parentals.

joy.

They gave me life...and then they gave me life.

Words do not exist to explain how much I love them.

(I'm the luckiest kid in the whole world).

happiness.

squinty eyes and a happy heart.

i feel full and loved.

thank You for this most beautiful (soul) sister.

solitude.

With a candle, a cup of tea, and a book to keep me company, I find myself imagining this as a cold winter's night instead of the balmy summer that it truly is.  Perhaps my self-imposed solitude is a subconscious preparation for the inevitable chaos of the next three weeks.  Or perhaps it is a way of easing myself into the certain relative solitude of the next few months of my life.  Or perhaps it is just...solitude.

I'm not usually a fan of solitude.  I like people and activity.  But tonight's solitude is peaceful.  It feels like a gift, not a burden.

Exactly a year ago today, I was at Ashley's house, ending my summer in the most perfect way imaginable.  Today, Ashley is at my house, ending this summer in a most wonderful way.  Ashley's friendship is a gift of the most precious nature.  Someday I will devote a post just to her, although all the words in the world couldn't capture the wonder of who she is.

My book is beckoning.  But it had to be said - somehow, somewhere - that right now, the world feels just right.

newness.

The light that filters through my curtains is blue.  Sometimes it feels like living inside of an aquarium.

It's been a long week, and a fast one.  Time is sneaking up on me.  My eyes are tired, but my brain won't turn off.  Banks and bills and furniture and where am I going to live? and how am I going to do this job? and phone calls and changing addresses and where is my favorite sweater? and packing and - and - and...it's a little bit overwhelming.

(but not completely overwhelming).

Because it's right.  Because it's life.  And life isn't neat and scheduled and very rarely turns out the way it's planned.  Life is an adventure.

As alluded to in my last post, this has been a year of learning.  And it has been a year marked with fire.  I wouldn't have chosen for the passing of time to be marked by disaster, but it has been.  And from it...I have learned what it means to be refined by fire.  I walked around the campus of my alma mater yesterday, and it's different.  New buildings, new roads, construction, fewer trees, a lot more people.  But peeking through all of the changes is the place I knew.  The place where I first learned what it meant to be on my own, where I learned how to ask for help, where I learned that God really actually does love me.  That place is there.  It's just....different.  And despite the ash falling from the sky as yet another fire rages on, I smile to see the spark of new life pushing through the barren, fire-scarred earth.  There isn't a better picture of what Jesus is in my life...what He would love to be in every life.

He is the fresh newness of life where before was only death.

again.

I remember the first time.  Driving through ash and fear towards something that might resemble safety.  Mourning the loss of buildings and innocence.  Celebrating the persistence of life.

The second time.  Raining ash and clouds of smoke.  Accomplishment and celebration drowned in a chorus of fear and smoke and ominous orange glow.

This time the ash mixes with the fog, settling down over a sleeping city as that familiar orange glow burns in the distance.  Safety is guaranteed, but fear seeps in through the cracks and settles into the neglected corners.

I'm learning what it means to be refined by fire.

To be cleansed by the flame.

less.

i'm tired.  

of self-doubt 

and selfishness 

and self-esteem 

and self, 

self, 

self.

i want less of me.

why do i keep (fruitlessly) striving for more?

kellie.

Today we watched the sun shimmer and shine across the water from the butterfly refuge.  We basked in the warmth and giggled like schoolgirls and remembered what it is like to live carefree.

I looked at the woman next to me and was proud of the person she has become.  I felt the warmth and joy that radiates from her being and was thankful for the sister I have found in her.  

To have a friend who lasts despite lapses in time and conversation, whose spirit is connected with yours in a way that isn't dependent on proximity or common moments...that is a gift.  Kellie is a gift.  

She is one of a kind.  Cut from her own cloth (the pattern of which strongly resembles my own) - she lives life in a way that is uniquely hers.  And while this extended visit of hers was unplanned, I have to believe that God had it in the works all along.  He knew that I needed a little bit of time to learn and love and live with this special woman who dances through life to a beat unlike any other.

(she understands that even the clouds need time for a nap.  

and birds have a language all their own).

living.

Things I am really liking today:

- Gilmore Girls

- french fries

- Greg Laswell channel on Pandora.com

- the fact that Emmy Su will be here in only two short days

- having Kellie in town

- sunshine, 70 degrees, and breezy

- peaceful contentment

Today is one of many days that make me stop and say thank you for sunshine, for friendships, for peace.  

(for this gift of life).

This is a time of big changes, long drives, miracle baby Macoy, happy hours, lazy mornings, busy evenings, old friends, new events, junk food, more driving, hard decisions, cooking, movies, hello following goodbye, laughing until tears fall and crying until laughs take over.  This is a time of living heart first, head later. 

This is a time of living.

And I love it.