there is a richness about time stayed in one place. it seems that it is a richness being lost as our world continues to learn how to move forward, faster and faster so it seems.
still there are pockets of these rich places. you know them when you find them i think. it’s almost as if times stands still, or beauty is more evident because there is space to see it, and people and things almost jump out at you asking you to see and enjoy them.

the house i grew up in was built in the early 1920s. it’s had just a few owners in its 90 plus years of existence. my family has been in the house almost 30 years. the neighbors next door boast of over 40 years in their house.
the houses on this street are full of people who have stayed in one place for a lengthy bit of time. it might not seem that great to some who haven’t experienced it’s richness but let me give you a brief and unjust glimpse of my reminder of richness tonight.
it was a certain set of neighbors that caught my attention tonight. they often do as they are outside and visible they continue to work the land and look after what is theirs with the greatest of care. Often we share dinner time across backyards on back porches on cool late summer nights.

they teach me so much just by the way they live. he is 87, and has spent the last days re-painting his chain link fence that runs between our yard and theirs. he seems to gain life as he fingers the dirt and leaves and iris and roses. He treats each created thing as if it is a precious gem. His tender care reminds me of the care the Creator would give that which He created.
she has been a steady presence by his side. her physical body isn’t well, but tonight she asked for another ear of corn to be cooked on the grill because the first one tasted so good. they watch the life around them and get excited about what new bloom has appeared, or the bird that sits at the bird feeder. she asked him to ‘make it stop’ when a hawk flew into the yard to try to get a smaller bird just this very evening.

we watch from our deck as they ready their table and sit down, hold each others hands and bow their heads to stop and thank God for his provision, say amen and then blow each other a kiss. we watch as our dog makes his way from our yard to theirs, runs to their sides and begins to beg for their dinner. he then proudly returns with a corn cob to show off as his prize.
there is the exchange of excess summer muss melon, or too many blue berry muffins, in knowing your neighbors not much goes to waste.

all these things are richer, because not only our these dear ones our neighbors, but because of time and relationship and life shared alongside each other they have become family. it’s part of the richness of staying in one place, and others around you staying in one place too. it allows time to develop life together, if you’re willing for it to happen. i think that this home is home not just because of the house structure itself, but because of the adopted grandparents next door, and aunts and uncles across the street, who have added a deep richness to my life.

i am a better person because of them.

i had to spice up the game of ‘pirates of the Caribbean’ life. what else to do but dress up like pirates…oh AND talk in an english accent.

it’s an extra hot Indiana July this year.  the humidity seems to begin to drip off your skin as soon as you step from air conditioning outside.  there also is an instant fog on your sunglasses – reminding you in case you had forgotten that it’s a humid summer day.  i find that there are probably only 2 places i’d like to be on days like this…either in the pool or in someplace with air conditioning.

currently i am in a place full of nice cool air admiring the sunshine from through the window just to my south.  i have told more than one person lately that i am hoping to begin to blog once a week.  this heat might be a key in keeping me still enough to make that goal begin to happen.  so here i am, writing for this week, hoping to write again next week.

have you ever had a hard time believing things that are said to you or about you?  if i were to just guess i would say that most of us could remember a time or two when words were said about us – you’re caring, genuine, beautiful, one of the best people i know/ you’re a failure, fat, ugly, slow, you have a lot to work on.   obviously there are some words that we would rather hear than others, but i have found that sometimes it seems to be easier to believe the undesirable things more than the lovely ones.

i have wondered why it’s easier to believe some things said about me more than others, i know some people who really know truth about themselves and they walk in it humbly and beautifully – recognizing that these qualities – the good, true, right ones – are a mark of God evident in our living.  i have also known many people who have an easier time believing that they aren’t worth much, that beauty is not a part of them, that truth in their minds about themselves is hard to come by – and i wonder what makes the difference between the two believers – between what they believe about themselves.

i have had some recent encounters with kind words said to me or about me.  in the moment it’s good to hear them, wherever they are coming from – but it’s in the moments after that i have a hard time believing in their truth.  i have gotten notes from friends and words from a certain boy, text messages and conversations laced with words that these people see beauty, care, genuineness, goodness and the like within me.  i don’t know how to respond.  i remember when i was an RA (resident assistant) in college girls struggled with believing in their worth, and one girl in particular always had an excuse or in some way tried to discount what good was being said of her.   i told her that one thing she should work towards was to say thank you when something good was said of her person in hopes that she would begin to believe.  it’s easier said than done.

it’s in the moments after words are spoken that i believe are crucial, because it’s those moments that begins to mold what you believe.  as i was talking about this struggle in my own life i was reminded that to take all the credit for what is said is not right, however to deny what is said is also not right.  the words are in some ways a means to an end.  they are an exhibit.  you are an exhibit of someone greater.  these good things in me, in you, being noticed i believe are testimonies of God’s working.  testimonies of our creator, testimonies of His great grace over us, over me.  in the moments i find truth hard to believe i feel unworthy. i continue to remain imperfect, to fail and to forget the truth and yet people still see goodness in me – and that’s just it-it’s not me.-it’s the Spirit in me and i’m amazed because i continue to be used by God -thanks be to him!

i hope that you and i both become more aware.  that we become people who take notice of the things being said to us or about us – to be conscious of the moments after we hear the words.   if they are untrue things about us – lies that we are worthless or useless  - may we deny those things and replace them with truths about our worth in a good God – and if they are true things being said that we grasp them and humbly come before the one who continues to use people like imperfect me – and praise him for what he has done.

do you know what her answer to my question was?

God is faithful.

As this hardship lingers on he continues to show himself true to his faithfulness.

It’s true and I know it’s true, but I was amazed how she was able to see it and know it in the midst of what is upon her shoulders each day. i can’t believe in any way it is easy – but she’s believing and seeing His faithfulness.  I found myself challenged through her words.  I found myself admiring the ways in which she choose to believe.

Throughout the conversation I had been driving through rain.  As our conversation ended the rain slowed down and the weather just seemed to turn strange.  There was evening sunlight blinding me in my rearview mirror, and yet I was driving into the darkest gray skies.  I seemed to be in that eerie in-between light, the kind that sometimes shows itself before a greater storm.  I was alert to the changes around me and then caught off guard by what I saw.  I saw a small piece of a rainbow, and I smiled and thought how lovely.  That patch was just the beginning of the release of a perfect rainbow that stretched in a giant archway across me.  I can’t tell you the feelings that were exposed in me as I continued to stare at this masterpiece in awe.  I am unsure if I have ever seen a rainbow such as this one, and the word that came to me was faithful.  Rainbows are a promise of God’s faithfulness.

I thought it was interesting time to see a rainbow in light of the conversation I had just had with my friend.  I found myself thinking about things in my own life and areas in which I have seen God’s faithfulness.  Ways in which I am amazed at how He continues after me even in times when I find myself lacking over and over again.  Ways in which he gives and gives and gives.

I sent a picture of the rainbow to my friend.  Her response was true and a further etching of a reminder.

He who promised is faithful.

it’s made me think a lot – about how much we need each part of our bodies.  how each part plays such a significant roll in day to day life. i am so grateful for my left hand.

i was talking with my aunt the other day and she reminded me of the comparison between the church as the body of Christ – that each part has a specific purpose and without all of the parts working together we really are at a great loss. i am finding a greater understanding of that as i sit without the use of my left hand – there really is a beauty in the body if all parts are working together -

more often than not in the midst of cleaning out my room i find myself periodically sitting on the floor amidst piles of things and reading.  reading pages of a book i’ve wanted to finish for a while, or a letter from a friend that i have kept, or even pages of an old journal. Although they slow down the cleaning out process there is something really wonderful for me in those moments.

i haven’t blogged in almost a year.  it’s been a season of non writing for me in more ways than one…and i’ve missed it.  as i was reading through a journal found, i resonated again with these words written and i thought i would share them here. and begin again writing.

i wonder – what does God see with each person He has created – which is all of them, all of us, all of me.  what does he see as trash piles high and becomes a place where some live and move and hope for surrvival?  what does He see when these people – created in His own image – are mistreated or are the ones mis-treating?  what does he see in the woman who struggles with depression, with fear, with brokenness, who seems to be a child in an adult body.

what does he do when children disobey for attention, when they use their words as weapons, when they know far more than they should at their age – the’ve lost their innocense.  O Jesus when women struggle in believing and seeing their beauty their value their worth. when i struggle in seeing my beauty, value and worth, what do you see?

what do you see when there are people who meet a need, when their are tears of joy, when there is life amidst the struggle.  when worth is found and held onto, when a person finds your love, when friends are reunited, when the old has gone and the new has come – what do you see as you look at this world?

i believe you see the hope of redemption.  i believe that you desire a rescue of your people your world, a rescue towards rightness.  help me to help you in the rescue. help me to desire to see it more.  give me your eyes to see – your love to share – and a hope that is steadfast.

it’s been an endless reminder to be grateful – grateful for the experiences i have been given – grateful for the ways in which i have been ‘kept.’  and it also has stirred within me – stirred the need to know more about how this Jesus who lives in me is relevant to these people who on the surface level seem to be okay – and to be ‘normal’ in this day and age.  how do i offer this Jesus to them.  how do i respond when their life stories and sagas and sadnesses come out  and i am the one standing in front of them listening.

i find myself coming home tired and sad a lot of days -

it’s a combination of things probably.  it’s the loss of sight.  it’s the loss of expectation. it’s the loss of what was.  it’s the loss of not knowing what is to come.  it’s the loss of not believing that i’m seen.  it’s the loss of realizing who is keeping me.  it’s the loss of wanting to run through this season i am in to get to the next one.

there have been glimpses of things that remind me to remain present.  and there have been people who have entered into my simple daily living – people who have joined me in the day to day and reminded me of the life and joy and beauty in its midst.

wheel barrow racing – yes i did it this past week – because when all i saw was a wheel barrow in the backyard grace saw it as something to enjoy.  lack of air conditioning on hot days. summer birthday parties. ice cream stops. late night conversations. eating dinner on the front porch. a favorite neighbor watering flowers in knee highs and green shorts.

i find that i wait to see.  and i find that i was waiting to see something beyond today.  but i want to see today.  and i want to expand my expectation of it – because in my expectation of life and direction and beauty today – i think it will be easier to expect it for the days beyond today.

and it’s an interesting season to be in – a season of change – because every change brings about loss even if the change occurring is a good one – there is still this sense of grieving for what was.

and so i have been feeling that these past days.  feeling the grief. the loss of what was.

today i was given a gift of something that has yet to change – a reminder of something that has been a constant in my life – and it might be surprising to you – because it’s my neighborhood.

The avenue that runs in front of the house i grew up in – has been the street on which i have always lived.  a large part of me i believe has been shaped by this street and the people that fill/filled its houses.  there were houses next to mine, two houses down, across the street, even across the alley – in which we had adopted family, adopted grandparents who would give us a treat (marsh mellows off the high shelf in their pantry), or friends with whom we would have lunch with in a tree, even an extra set of parents who might have something we liked more for dinner.  there were friends to play house on the front porch, or ride bikes with until the street lights came on, there were extra keys to the neighbors houses so not only could we take in the mail while they were gone but we could also grab the extra egg we needed for our muffins that morning.   the people around me were my family.

and they still are.  as i walked outside today to take the trash out – what was going to be a take the trash out trip became a talk to the man next door (who will be 83 this month) trip, to a talk with the mom next door while my dog plays with her kids, to a talk to the neighbor across the street trip because the dog ran to see him, which took me all the way to time to make dinner – which i made too much of so fed the neighbors across the street.  i can’t really describe it – but it felt good to be reminded of this gift that has been given and up until this point in my life preserved – and as the things around me change – and i am grateful for the movement – i am grateful for the neighborhood i find myself and the beauty that i consistently find here.