The Times critics have mastered

The Times critics have mastered the art of slowly transforming a compliment into a brutal blast.

fearing success

Today has unearthed a fear that I suspect has long been a part of the make up of my heart. I am afraid of success. I fear getting my way because somehow (in my ego that has an unbalanced inflation) I am afraid that I manipulated the situation to 'get my way' at the expense of the overall good.

I don't really have this fear with failure. For some reason I have a pretty comfortable grasp on God's sovereignty over my failures and that if he thwarts my will it is for the good of his purposes both in my life and the kingdom in general. Somewhere along the way I got a strange disconnect that doesn't acknowledge God's equal sovereignty over any 'success' I find. His sovereignty isn't just a comfort in the junky times, his purposes WILL stand.

I am neither good NOR bad enough to thwart his will, just like I am not bad enough to be beneath his saving power or good enough not to need it. That sort of power does not exist in human grasp.

I can't say for sure what this silly disconnect reveals about me, other than again highlighting that my view of God can be too little, my understanding of his love to juvenile and my perception of my ability to out maneuver him completely inflated.

Interestingly enough a reggae talked how "he's got the whole world in his hands" at work today. And this afternoon I am reading Psalm 4 which reminds the reader to "Offer right sacrifices and put your trust in the Lord" and ends with a picture of peace in the midst of hardship (even perhaps the hardship of having what you wanted).

Even When Monet is playing

Even When Monet is playing with her blocks she is making stories. Proof of the innate relationalism of girls I guess

The moments when a summer

The moments when a summer thunder storm is brewing are my favorites.

process joy

I have a confession for you – buried deep within me there lurks a closet perfectionist. Even if you are fairly close to me – you may have never noticed her. She often hides behind my laziness so that she can’t be seen, but from the shadows she often whispers like thunder about all of the things I am not precisely good enough at. She tries to paralyze me with her mummers.

Since I am very human she has a large arsenal of things to chose from, because like everyone around me I never get anything perfect (which is something you have surely noticed even if you only know me through the interweb). What I have learned though is that as I find joy in the process it is harder to care about her observations – no matter may be.

As I am working on this quilt, learning all sorts of things about what I should do differently next time I am finding this process joy. I can see the ways in which my layout is weak and needed more finesse – more forethought. I can see how I really should have taken a lot more time in the very fist step of cutting and early piecing. I can see how irregular and unshapely my quilting stitches are. But this is how we learn, how we grow. We push past our early attempts laced with ignorance so that if flashes of brilliance break through we are in a position to embrace them.

But I can not live my life waiting for those flashes of brilliance that may never come. I can embrace the joys of the process. When you look at life as a whole, process is really all you can do to much with. God is still in the business of managing the final product of our life – and even if you don’t want to deal with God you can’t deny the fact that our lives end in death and our life was the processes of getting there.

Grilled cheese with pickles and

Grilled cheese with pickles and honey mustard YUM!

calling and permission

I love going to weddings, especially for the people in my life who I know have spent more time planning for their marriage than for the wedding day.

All of the excitement. The unique expressions of their love and commitment to one another. The beauty and the fellowship with friends.

I also really love hearing what the pastor has to say during the commissioning. Usually I can't remember all the good nuggets of stuff (I always feel a little uncomfortable whipping out a handy dandy notebook to jot stuff down) but one thing that was said at the wedding I went to on Friday (congrats to Sarah and Micheal - hope you are having many happy honeymoon moments) really struck me.


The pastor told Sarah that her calling came from God but her permission to pursue it comes from her husband. Any feminist reading this is probably disgusted, heck if I had been in a slightly grouchy mood I wouldn't have liked it either but since I wasn't in such a mood I was able to appreciate the freedom in what was said. Yes we are accountable first and foremost to God but since God's word makes it pretty clear that spouses are meant to be one flesh it is illogical to think that he would lead the members of this one flesh in a way that tore them apart so in submitting the details of how we pursue our calling to each other we can help avoid doing good things that are destructive to our lives together.

Lest anyone think too much of my angst - you should know I am better now. I made the deadline, I don't have high hopes but at least I put myself out there (and really that is half the battle). The dishes remain untouched but the promise of free chick-fil-A lurks in my future.

If you want to see the pieces I chose - go take a look.

What Endures


Touching Autumn

Spring Break

melancholy procrastination (the things I hear when I am alone)

I am sitting here.

I should be doing dishes. Or getting a photo ready. I want to forget that the deadline is in 3 hours. I don’t want to actually enter. I just want to be able to extend the myth that I am somehow an artist.

But even with the pieces in mind I would rather let doubt paralyze me. Am I lazy or just afraid of the effort?

I have no rational thing to fear, I seldom do (unless it is window shattering ninjas) that is perfectly normal. I just don’t want to do what I should. Every fiber of my being screams against it.

I don’t want to post this, to type, or even admit it. I know that if I do it creates license for those that love me to try and push me toward doing the things I fear.

Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn’t.

I would like to use the dishes as an excuse. I would like to use a swimming date as an excuse. Instead I sit here, a little emotional, accomplishing nothing. Resolving nothing. Making mental lists of what I should do. The order I need to complete things in. These lists are always my out because making lists keeps me from accomplishing them.

I will start with aloe. Seems as good a place as any.

Better than contemplating how I have again crafted a situation where each choice makes me a failure to someone, or something.


I guess my title is only half accurate - since alone is not truly possible even when it may feel that way. And I guess my failures aren't as important in the grand scheme as I would like to think they are.

But again I need to stop. Do.

Contra dancing is on for

Contra dancing is on for July 31. Do whatever you need to do to be able to come. Believe me it is AMAZING.

I love RH and it

I love RH and it is good to be home but I miss Nyc so much I can taste it