a girl needs a dad

when a girl is moving, she might need a truck. dads tend to have that sort of thing. dads are kind enough to let them put 33 hours of driving time on the truck for free, which is very convenient when the girl is already spending money on other moving expenses. her dad even gives the truck a quick wash before she leaves so that it's all spankin' shiny for her to drive.

when she's pulling off crazy driving hours to make appointments on both ends of the state, she needs a dad to remind her to have fun on the trip and, most importantly, stay awake. he can call her and tell her cool things he's discovered at truck stops and tell her he'll call back in a few hours to make sure she's still doing ok.

when he calls back, she can tell him something rather big she's been thinking, and ask him for advice. he can take the time to listen to the whole thing (even though it's 1 a.m.). he tells her she's going to have to decide what she really wants, because it's going to take a lot of courage, grit, and (quite possibly) battle scars to make the scenario happen. if she really wants it, he's going to support her, but he doesn't want her to regret a decision she'll have to live with for the rest of her life. meanwhile, he tells her she's doing the right thing now... reaching for and accomplishing today's dream.

give a girl a great dad, and she can do anything.

the funny thing about growing up is that dads and girls have to figure out how to both be adults and still be dad and daughter. it takes work. i'm glad that my dad and i both keep learning how.

because i might be grown up, but i'm still a girl. i need a dad.

he's taught me how to work hard. to respect people. to live life with dignity. to not be afraid to break the status quo.

a girl needs a hero.

a girl needs a dad.

ch-ch-changes

...time may change me
but I can't trace time...

Lovely oldies song, that. I heard a contemporary rendition at a gas station, but it lacked the... passion... or maybe grit... and definitely the struggle... of David Bowie's delivery.

Disclaimer: I don't necessarily endorse the lives or complete works of many artists, Christian or non. If you listen to music as you would mine a canyon, you'll find some sweet jewels.

But yeah...

ch-ch-changes
(turn and face the strain)

They're happening.

For the benefit of those of you who were not lambasted with the news via facebook or email, I received a call from the agency yesterday. They are "very interested in hiring" me! If I pass the physical exam and drug screening, that is.

Dave told me he doesn't think I'll pass the physical. "Anyone who shrieks like that when they get off the phone must have something wrong with them," he said.

Lauren asked me if this means I'm putting in my 6-months' notice at Kauffman's.

Julie K. gave me a pouty smile.

I'm going to miss my co-workers and being a part of the best corporation EVER, even though I will miss very little about e-commerce management. It's interesting work, but does not coincide with any goals or dreams of mine.

But yeah... did I mention I'll miss all my peoples here in Lancaster?

Despite the negative aspects of this change, I've been wearing my smile out since 4:00 yesterday afternoon. This opportunity is the chance of a lifetime for me. A tangible dream-come-true. To say I'm excited would be a minor understatement. ;)

Roughly eight weeks since starting this process, I am leaving this evening with my last truck-load of stuff. One more bon voyage on asphalt, and then I'm done. My wonderful dad has let me borrow his truck three times, and I've eliminated the need for renting a moving truck. :) After taking the physical tomorrow, I'll head back here to Lancaster, then await the call to begin training.

ch-ch-changes
pretty soon now, you're gonna get a little older
time may change me
but i can't trace time

A monumental "THANK YOU!" to the many of you who have encouraged me to chase this dream, to hang onto faith when the jump felt like a free-fall. You're the best, I tell you. The best.

Trying to Follow

A misty rain veiled the city this evening. A spring rain. A running rain.

I couldn't resist.

All the tension of waiting all day for the call that hasn't come. All the questions I've been asking that haven't seemed answered. All the frustration of waiting and silence drained through the soles of my running shoes.

"Howdy, mum! Off for your run?"

"Yessir! It's beautiful!"

He laughed from his porch. Laugh as big as his white smile in stunning contrast to his skin.

"Sorry." He returned to his phone conversation. "Dat was my neighbor. I tol' you about my neighbors, Clair and Anna? She's their sister."

I smiled as I ran on. Because I am proud to be his neighbor. Because I've never been able to convince the whole block I'm not related to Clairs'... and because I love belonging to the "family" that does make me their "sister".

Reverently through the paths of bejeweled trees and flowers of the park, stopping to kiss a dogwood bloom. The cross-shaped white blooms with rusty edges and rough-crowned centers. The azalea bush an unspeakable hue, rain-dropped and lit by a watery sun. The persimmon tree's new baby leaves.

On down to the river, with its river-otter mudslides and my favorite tree, all newly green.

Back to the road, for the pure joy of running. Of feeling more alive than I had all day, hunched over a computer.

Running.

All the hopes, frustrations, dreams, and fears of late solidified into a question a friend asked me once. "What do you want to be the sum of your life?"

My answer came back to me: "I want a lot of people to know they are loved."

I want to run with that news, to follow the trail left by the greatest Lover... to glory in the immensity of His wake. I want to teach others to run... for the sheer joy of it.

It's too big for me. I can't master the pace. About the time I think I do, I take my eyes off my feet and see I'm far behind. I don't have this loving this down pat. I am less and less confident in my ability to do it myself, much less teach others.

At the end of my street, I waved to a lady I often see as I drive by but never have talked to. She yelled something about diabetes, and I crossed the street to talk to her. How lonely does one have to be to tell one's complete medical history to a complete stranger? When I made my leave, she said, "Thanks for talking to me!" I thanked her as well, and felt my face as lit as hers. In her lined and toothless face, her waist-length iron and white hair, her wide, faded blue eyes, I saw Jesus.

I've been asking Him to teach me to follow, to teach me to love. Begging Him to show His face. He did. In the beauty of people, in the beauty of nature. I saw Him.

And now I'm wondering if making disciples is as much about being taught as it is about teaching... receiving as much as giving.

A quote by Shane Hipps in "Flickering Pixels" has been niggling the interior of my cranium since I read it. "We are called to make disciples, not believers."

Good thing, too. Because the I've found the whole "making believers" thing to be a fine line between ethnocentric bigotry and total irrelevancy.

In the left-brained, logical, sequential thinking formed by the written culture following the printing press, Christianity became a set of doctrines to be embraced mentally. Hence, fundamental evangelical churches. Fulfilling the Great Commission involved dispersing written words.

Now? Who cares what you think in your head? With the advent of technology, our thinking patterns are reverting back to the visual, right-brained mode. Somewhat similar to the culture in which the stories of Scripture were told both verbally and through stained-glass windows and paintings, it's less important to us (culturally speaking) if someone believes in predestination or believes in hell. It's irrelevant to now, to today's triumph and tragedy. Trying to argue someone into the Kingdom is like "trying to nail jello to a wall" (S.H.). It seems as though the only way we, as followers of Jesus, are able to tell the Good News is by getting involved and getting dirty. Loving.

I'm glad. Because, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that's what Jesus was trying to show us how to live the whole time He was here.

So before this post evolves into a full-fledged book review (which would hardly be coherent due to the hour), I'd like to thank all of you for reading the mosaic that is my blog. I keep meeting people I barely know who tell me they read this site. Your telling me that my writing encourages you humbles and blesses me. I'd like to hear from some of you, either by commenting on this page, emailing, or, better yet, telling me in person (if possible)... where have you seen Jesus? How is He teaching you to love? I'd love to hear it because I have an astonishing amount to learn.

Peace always...

Lisa [i]

Oh, lovely! Yes, her... 

...and the afternoon we spent shooting her FBEP grad pictures and sitting at Square One.

There is nothing quite so revitalizing as a good talk and many laughs with a friend who knows you well enough to know what you're saying even when you're not actually saying it. 

You're a lucky man, Art! But I suppose you know that already. :) Seeing Lisa blossom since she's dating you makes me think she's a pretty lucky girl, too. 

More of Lisa to come later...

earth day

so i was going to do something really cool to celebrate earth day.

i smiled at all my little tomato, zinnia, daisy, poppy, oregano, basil, and parsley babies growing at my window. and poked at the pepper seeds which have germinated but have yet to show their faces. wait, i do that every day.

i stopped at goodwill and brought home a huge wooden serving tray (for $1.97, i might add), two picture frames, and a small mirror. see? instead of buying things new, i upcycle them. oh. true dat. i do that a lot, too. the spray paint i used on everything couldn't have been just super for air quality, either. (but it was fun spreading newspapers on the dark, quiet sidewalk and spraying the last coats in my bare feet under the street light. even though my neighbor three houses down stood at his door and regarded me strangely.)

idea!

TODAY will be my earth day. i finally found one of these on craigslist: [!]

no fossil fuels or air (or noise) pollution required to mow my little lawn. i won't mention the fact that not having to worry about the engine having obscure problems is somewhat of a relief. there. won't even have to talk about it. driving half an hour to pick up something you bought for $20 that retails at $75 is permissible in observing earth day. 

weehah!

mystery of sacrifice

no words left
thoughts spent
You've heard it all
and still we sit here

until

all i offer is silence
myself

which

in reality
is all i have

and even that

isn't mine

except

for the facets
You bequeath me

simply... Saturday

Despite the vast amount of staggering truths I'm absorbing from Flickering Pixels; How Technology Shapes Your Faith, by Shane Hipps, I'm expressing myself through media twice in one day. Shocking. Excellent book, that. A review is in rumination. 


Meanwhile, here are some things that made my Saturday sunny:

Zinnia sprouts

"I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."

-Agatha Christie

Ita & Tama

"Until one has loved an animal,  a part of one's soul remains unawakened." ~ Anatole France