lights and shadows

My life is a kaleidoscope of shifting colors and patterns, lights and shadows. I rather enjoy it.

The past weekend, the pattern shifted. I'm still gazing in rapt wonder at the new hues and the complexity of it. I can barely grasp what God is doing in my heart, but it's shifting. Exciting, frightening, invigorating. A wind of refreshing change finds its way, almost unnoticed, through the halls and into chambers. No, I can't articulate (least of all, in public) what is being wrought, but a few snapshots from the weekend might offer an abstract collage:

Sitting at Tim Horton's with Bekah, her dad, and her sister, laughing so hard it's a wonder our food digested.

Reading Tolkien in the artistically stimulating environment of Artist's Cup Cafe while in the wonderful company of Lisa, Lynell, and Joanne. Ah. Friends, books, art, pottery... iced coffee for the soul.

Discussing life, art, and burdens for friends who don't know the King of Love with Tim Kirk, the dear man who hosted my first art show. His heart for people, art, life, and God makes me name him one of my heroes, right up there with Da Vinci, MLK Jr., and Bob Marley. I had been contemplating buying "Alone Again", which would bring the number of the Kirk works in my possession to three. I was speechless when Tim handed "Alone Again" to me. "A gift", he said. The symbolism of that piece, being given as a gift...

Having a catch-up-on-each-other's-lives marathon talk with my former mentoring group. Laughter, tears, celebration, grief, prayers, teasing, and dark chocolate cheesecake make for holy ground. You girls are truly my sisters. I'm humbled and blessed to be part of the Body. Where else is kind of love and loyalty found?

Just BEING with my Faith Builders friends. If you're from FB, and you're reading this, please polish your halo.

Listening to music while driving barefoot for 5.5 hours. It really is a miracle I arrived back in Lancaster City; I kept getting lost in the stars. Orion, my patron constellation, told me to remember things I had almost forgotten. A falling star directly in my line of vision nearly resulted in my driving into the Susquehanna River, which reflected the sedentary ones.

Back in Lancaster City, waiting for the light to change where King Street crosses Duke, I noticed a lump on a bench near the corner. A small person, with their head on a bundle. The only identifiable shape in the coat that hopefully protected them from the cold was a dangling hand that twitched once in sleep.

Lights and shadows call me.