har·ry:

transitive verb
1 : to make a pillaging or destructive raid on
2 : to force to move along by harassing
3 : to torment by or as if by constant attack

I have been feeling a bit this way. Just so we're clear, I have not been doing the harrying, well, not that I know of, but feeling a bit harried, perhaps. Ok, I wouldn't maybe go so far as to say I have been tormented, or imposed upon by a destructive raid...well, maybe I would. I am a bit of a romantic, after all.

Someone was just telling me about this idea of a "holy discontent:" that there is sometimes this feeling of anxiousness that you can't really explain, and you think that you are doing everything right and everything you are supposed to, yet things just feel a little off. And that maybe it is God stepping in and making you a little uncomfortable so that you will be forced to move in some way. To change some things, to adapt.

To be honest, I have been feeling overwhelmingly like this lately. I have been praying for God to change me, to make me content again with my situation, and not only content, but excited and even passionate, but He hasn't.

The realization that God has been causing these feelings to move me is very freeing. Well, I should say, I feel free now after going through the stages of feeling angry, hurt, abandoned and, of course, guilty. It is as though an incredible burden has been lifted. I feel I am being moved in a different direction, and although, or maybe because it is quite ambiguous at present, and isn't void of pain or tears, there is so much hope in it. And it has been an awfully long time since I have felt so much of it.

And...I think I just remembered how to exhale.

"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."
Hebrews 4:16

in·vei·gle \in-VAY-gul\

1 : to win over by wiles : entice
2 : to acquire by ingenuity or flattery : wangle

I feel like this word doesn't really fit its sound. It bothers me. The definition suggests it is an endeavor of charm...but I can't give it so much credit.

Maybe it is just my attitude lately. I refuse to be wangled by the common seductions of recent: the sparkle and ever jolly atmosphere of the upcoming season, the relaxing nature of a brainless but entertaining read, and, sadly, the always loyal and lovable golden retriever. (Gasp!)

Ok, before you hate me for not being a dog-lover, please know that I gave it my best effort. I house sat/dog sat for some friends this weekend, and was determined to appreciate the companionship of what we call man's best friend. And there couldn't have been a better specimen with which to test my canine-friendliness than Micah. I would even call him pretty. I actually went into the weekend half expecting to eat all of my previous anti-dog sentiments and even imagining myself falling into the classic single-girl (soon-to-be) in the city cliche of dog ownership.

Rest assured, there will be no humble word-eating today. At least not about dogs. Unless they come up with a dog who doesn't need smelly food, has no hair (or at least doesn't require you to ever touch it), makes no lip-licking sounds (actually, it might be good if there was no tongue at all), and doesn't wake you up in the middle of the night with his face in your face because he is freaked out by the windstorm, I have some suspicion that my feelings will not be changing any time soon. Go ahead and call me high maintenance or shallow. I'm over it.

Don't worry, I am not becoming completely inhuman. I am actually starting to give in to the fun of Christmas, be it reluctant. It is only, after all, November 27. We have almost a month to go. But since I have just discovered a Christmas song out by the Smashing Pumpkins, (Christmastime - not even kidding - why did no one tell me!) as ridiculous as it may seem, it is hard not to get a little caught up.

palinode \PAL-uh-nohd\

1 : an ode or song recanting or retracting something in an earlier poem
2 : a formal retraction

"Not that I agree with everything that I have said in this essay. There is much with which I entirely disagree." - Oscar Wilde

I love this word. Just the fact that it exists gives the freedom to say the wrong thing, not that you would ever want to say the wrong thing, but that sometimes you are afraid of saying something fearing that it might be wrong, so you never do. But it gives the option to put things out there, to process them, and to not necessarily have the right answers right away. (Granted, it is in reference to verse, not really conversation, but the idea is encouraging). And it is humble. I have always loved humility on other people. I am starting to love it on myself. Or, I think I will at least, if I ever really learn it.

I think I am realizing the incredible gift of friendships in which I can be completely honest. And not just honest in words, but honest in the way I respond to them, in my mannerisms, in my countenance. It is a lot harder, a lot more rare than I imagined. I am realizing that there is so much more to me than my word. I can talk all day about who I am and what I believe in and what I am passionate about, but really, it could be a whole lot of bunk.

I was told in seventh grade by my English teacher that I was demonstrative. I had to look it up. Basically, it means whatever I am feeling is written all over my face. Ok, to be completely honest, it's usually written all over my entire body. I think that, pretty much since that day, I have tried to lock up that part of my nature. I had always admired my dad for being quite the opposite. I had always imagined I was just like him. I thought that I, too, should be the casual, easy-going person that he is.

In middle school I babysat for one of my dad's coworkers, and she told me once that everyone at their office didn't get along with someone...except my dad. Everyone liked him. Who wouldn't want to be that person?! Well, turns out I am maybe a bit more like my mom. Who I have come to adore...but sometimes she can be a bit embarrassing. She definitely isn't afraid to say what she is thinking, or to show how she feels about something. She isn't even afraid to get up in front of a room full of well educated adults and lead them in a rousing game of What would you do with a drunken sailor, complete with singing and dancing.

I don't think I am quite to that point yet, in fact I might never be, but I am becoming more comfortable with the idea that I might not always be the easiest person to be around. Because, to be honest, sometimes I am pretty great to be around. (Still working on the humility, obviously). I am going to make it my endeavor to be honest, both in word and otherwise. I may need to employ a palinode a time or two, and I may even make more enemies than friends, but at least it'll be real.

"May the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14

tattoo \ta-TOO\

: a rapid rhythmic rapping

Whoa - who knew? You might be a little confused. The word you are thinking of has its roots in Tahitian. But this one comes to us from the great and powerful Dutch. From the Dutch word taptoe we get tattoo - pertaining to percussion, often associated with the military, and also the word taps - the final bugle call at night.

Mom, rest assured that my reasons for putting up this word today are purely to pay homage to our incredible heritage. I don't have any desire at the moment to get any ink done.

That's all. Just a fun fact to break from all the heavy soul-cleansing of late.

Goede dag, vrienden!

bunk

:nonsense

I am frustrated. Restless. I feel like I'm stuck. Which is ridiculous given the ways God has been pruning me with a vengeance lately. But, in some ways, it is because of all this pruning that I feel this way. Because of everything He's showing me, I am painfully aware of my inadequacy, my immaturity. I have felt incredibly juvenile lately. I'm sick of it. I want to be an adult already.

I realize that part of this has to do with certain comparisons I have made to my life lately: I stayed with a friend and her husband last night in their new house. Yes, that's right. I have friends who are mature enough to actually own a house. And they even have furniture to put in it! Unbelieveable. It's amazing how shocking it was to look at it all and wonder when, if ever, that might be me. Especially given my bank account balance at present. Yikes.

And then I get really frustrated with the fact that I am jealous. It's a whole lot of bunk really, my jealousy. Don't you like that phrase, though? I feel like it sounds very English...

I was talking with my very mature, married, home-owning friend about this thing our culture does to us: giving us points of "arrival" to shoot for. It seems no matter what situation we may find ourselves in, we are always looking toward what is next. But she talked about how now, after being married all of a few months, she is already thinking, hmm...I wonder how long we have to wait to have a baby...which is crazy to me, who looks at her life and thinks - what more could you want right now? She told me she really wishes she could have cherished the seasons of her life so far better. (And that she is trying to do that now, too). And all I can think in response is, of course. I know that I am supposed to cherish this time in my life. I know that someday I am supposed to look back and long to go back to this place, when everything was possible and I had nothing to lose...but how do you actually do that? Is it even possible? It doesn't feel possible right now.

Someone asked me a while ago if I thought I could be married to the same person forever. We were talking about how much I like change and tend to get restless when things get static. The truth is, I think anyone is going to come to a point in any relationship that they think, man, this is getting a little old. It's like the same thing everyday. I think it is inevitable. I just hope it comes in waves, and is countered by those moments when things are made fresh, new again even when you think you know everything and have experienced everything with each other.

I love watching this couple who are close friends of mine and have been married for about 50 years. You would think they just got back from their honeymoon the way they talk to each other. I wonder about all the things it took to get them there. I wonder if they learned how to be content during each step along the way. I wonder if they are still waiting for anything.

ame·na·ble

1 : liable to be brought to account
2 a : capable of submission

My eyes are being opened.

I have been hoping for a "divine appointment," a moment to feel pursued by God, to know that He is speaking to me.

I should have been careful of what I was wishing for.

I was talking to a friend last night, and we both shared moments recently that have awakened something in us, a need to answer a call. And it isn't as if, for either of us, this was a new thing we were being called to, but that these were things we had been drawn to, hoping for, for a long time. But there is a great fear in realizing that you are actually being called to something, being pursued to use what you have been given. The verse from Luke 12, here in the King James, has been attacking my mind: "For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required." It is a frightening reality to face: that not only do I have gifts, but I am also amenable to those gifts. It is a hard place to be in: to be both sure of my ability, and yet to be humble. To know that I must do what I am called, and know that even as I am called, I am not immune to failure. To know that even though I am young and inexperienced, I may have a voice, and I may need to use it. And that I might be rejected. But I still have to try.

So, just to be sure I got the message, God gave me that verse one more time - in black and white. Today I picked up the book I have been reading, Girl Meets God, by Lauren F. Winner. And what verse do you think she used in the very first paragraph I read? That's right. She talked about weeping after coming to terms with what was going to be required of her. I think I can understand how that might happen. I think I am learning what it means to fear God. I am afraid of what He will ask me to do.

of·fi·cious: adjective

: volunteering one's services where they are neither asked nor needed : MEDDLESOME

So, this weekend at my church here in Pasco, we had a missions conference. I was super excited about it because last year I was so impressed with the weekend. For being such a small church in such a small town, they (actually, we) as a church, are incredibly missions-focused, and are very involved in various types of mission work throughout the world. Pretty cool. So, this year, I had high expectations. I was sorely disappointed. And not for anything the people of my church did, but for the way the guest speaker spoke to the people of my church. He talked about the kinds of things that his church over in Tacoma are doing - and how they are so far ahead of the game in this "second reformation" of the church that is happening. (I'm pretty sure if you ask him, that he is pretty much the founder of this new "reformation" - so be on the lookout!). And then he completely tore apart the way we, as a church, worship on Sunday mornings. He kept giving examples of his amazing "warehouse" church and how there aren't any pews, and they tell people not to come on Sunday mornings, and they don't have any spotlights or the "resident expert" up in front telling everyone else what to think.

So, let me just say that, while I do not believe these elements of the service or the sanctuary are necessary, it isn't as though they are evil and are leading people astray! AND, it isn't the only thing my church does! Yes, I agree that church needs to be more than just sitting in a pew on Sunday and soaking up whatever wisdom your pastor has to offer you, and then going about your week without once considering what God is calling you to do, but it doesn't mean there is no value in those things.

I just have no patience for people who do not know their audience, but still believe they have the right to tell them they are doing everything wrong, while they have all the answers as to how to do it right (since they are obviously philosophically light-years ahead of the rest of us). Good old Young Life and their "earning the right to be heard" could teach this guy a few things.

Just so you know, I did attempt to give mister "saving the future of the church in a Tacoma warehouse" some things to think about after two of his four talks, but he was really hard to communicate with. At least for me. He kept turning all of my arguments around into something completely different. I wish I could have punched him in the face.