How I Spent My Summer Vacation, Part I

As some of you may know, I r-a-n-o-f-t, or rather flew-o-f-t, on Saturday for my hometown of San Diego for a very special birthday surprise! In spite of my missing my initial flight, I managed to make it in plenty of time to shock my mother who screamed beyond all reckoning to see me in my room O:-) That was very fun. Dad and I had her hook, line, and sinker!
This is my first vacation in years, literally, because for once I’m not doing DRW, reading anything school related, or looking for a job 2,000 miles away. I am actually here to relax and spend time with my family. It’s a little late at night (even on west coast time!) to give too many details, but wanted to give y’all an update on how I am spending my summer vacation.
Saturday – first stop: fish taco with Dad. Surprised Mom at home, enjoyed barbequed steak dinner on back porch with family. Remembered what eucalyptus smells like. Overjoyed to find that my cat remembered me.
Sunday – church, and they didn’t even bash Calvinism for a change! Lunch at favorite salad buffet restaurant. Leisurely evening, watched Hitch with family until I got a VERY special call from my VERY special big sister who is now planning a VERY special occasion *huge grin* - CONGRATS, BETH!!!!
Monday – errands, sent off the Hanna’s baby blanket, accomplished some shopping for Kelly *wry grin*, and resigned to the fact that I can’t get away from political involvement. Mom and I went to a City Council meeting to protest something that ended up being taken off the docket. It was the first time I’d ever been to San Diego City Hall, and I’m not even a resident anymore. Go figure. San Diego is on its third or fourth mayor in like two weeks. The primary election for that position was held Tuesday.
Tuesday – Mom’s birthday. Broke 72-hour Starbucks fast, a little bit of shopping in the morning, another fish taco. Purchased three movies I’ve been meaning to get for a while (The Village, Phantom of the Opera and National Treasure… how’s that for variety?). Went to Pacific Beach for dinner at fun new place. The ocean looks very pretty. Lots of Mom’s favorite dessert – Baskin Robbins’ Chocolate Chip ice cream with fudge – for dessert.
Wednesday – washed both cars and did yard work, resulting in serious lobster back from the early morning sunshine. Here’s hoping it tans. Worked on Kelly’s shower invitations and finished addressing the envelopes. Saw boss on CSPAN (I finally broke down and watched CSPAN), but we lost the CAFTA vote. Visited David and Mike, two brothers and dear friends from high school, for three hours this evening to catch up and talk about printers (they’re both computer engineers now) and politics (duh!). The two went to Israel with their family last month and I received a very special present from Mike: a rock from the Mount of Olives that he picked up just for me! He said he thought of me and how much I’d like to be there and thought he’d bring back a piece of history for me. Quite special.
That’s all for now… but will definitely be enjoying the rest of my time in paradise!!

It's Friday......

And I have two words for you:

Almost perfect.

See you on the other side.

A savored moment

Have you ever woken up and just had this feeling that today was one of those days that had the potential to change your life forever?

Today was one of those days. I woke up refreshed and the first thing I did was reach for my Bible, curl up with the Word and read myself to full awakeness in the morning light. I went downstairs and made smoothies. I got ready in a fun outfit that was almost completely borrowed – Allis’ brick red shirt and a fun, flared black skirt from Ashley’s collection. I put my hair up and was actually ready for my day before getting in the car. That was very unusual.

Even though it is middle-late July and it is humid and hot, the morning was particularly bright and clear, almost like spring again. Instead of the usual gray-brown haze over everything, the sky was perfect blue, the flowers in the House gardens were blazing red and yellow. The tall, dark, purple plants seemed as if they had exploded in size overnight and seemed at least half my height. It is warm with the slightest breath of breeze, and everything growing around seems wild, untamed, and clear. Breathtaking.

It was another one of those days where everything seemed to go right. I hesitate to say it, but by God’s grace I’ve been having a lot of those lately. Though I believe that probably has more to do with my perspective than my circumstances. But the Metros I need seem to be there always right when I need them. The elevator comes to the 4^th floor right when I need it – which NEVER happens – that’s usually a battle in and of itself. And again a clear blessing of God, even though I should have lost a week of writing with all the correction debacle earlier this month, I seem to be a week… ahead. I’ve averaged 35 letters a day this week, and if I keep it up, by Friday there will be no stack. Which is very bizarre. I remember when I first took this job, JP told me about how there were times he’d be waiting on the boss to get him the mail and he’d start preempting and then boss would get mad. I could not conceive of a circumstance under which I could possibly not have a stack. When I first got to the job, I did alright; then I hit a good pace when I was making quotas for myself, I made progress, but just couldn’t get ahead. I kept thinking about coming in on the weekends, but never ended up doing it because I felt like I needed rest so badly. And God has blessed me every time. It’s amazing to think that I am within striking distance. I feel like God is enabling me to do my job well. It’s not explainable any other way.

I wrote 40 letters today, actually, along with taking a meeting and running in between committee rooms. Boss had two simultaneous mark-ups. It was insanity, but I was able to get my stuff done and help others, too. Dare I say that at this moment, vocationally, I feel like I belong?

Then it was Bible study, which was wonderful. It was a charming evening, just nice enough to walk around comfortably, with an almost-fall cool in the air. Still warm, but not overbearing. The sky had turned a bluish-purple. A single bright planet hung over the Capitol skyline as we wandered the brick sidewalks at twilight. I felt like I was floating.

Though it may last only a moment, doesn’t God give us this for a reason? A small taste of what Heaven might possibly be like? The peace, the hope, the expectation of what God will do? It’s so rich and free and perfect and real, you can almost taste it. But one cannot feast on the moment; you have to savor it, to remember, for it may well be your Ebenezer for the dry times that will come.

There will be good times, too. And it just makes me wonder if, someday, I will be able to look back on a day like this and see it at a pivotal moment. Not that I know that today changed my life.

But you never know.

Life is not the amount of breaths you take.
It’s the moments that take your breath away.

Senate side

There are a lot of things I could say about the Senate side. I’m not over there very much, but I went today. It was actually nice because it was the first time I went directly there and directly back, no wrong turns, thanks to Loddy’s good directions. The Senate side is very pretty; their first floor is all nicely tiled. Apparently when your terms are four years longer and you don’t have to campaign as much, you have a lot more time to worry about the ambiance. But anyway, in general, I noticed today that the people over there are older and more stuffy-looking. Everything seems so insulated. On the whole, it’s rather boring and I like the House side better.

All that notwithstanding, I have to give a special shoutout to a friend and savior of my palm pilot on the Senate side, whose tireless efforts manning the… uh… phones of the Senate Select Committee on Aging is truly changing America, one Medicare patient at a time. Seriously, the poor guy is so bored that he actually keeps up on my blog. It is fun to know I have a reading devotee over on the other side of the Hill. And he’s good with technology… but not so good with the matchmaking, I must say ;) But that’s okay. So here’s to all the cool Senate side people – Paul, Carley, and I guess we’ll say Tucker’s cool for my purposes here.

So glad it's the weekend. More later.

Christmas in July

Before you read this, just take a moment. Sit back, relax, and take a deep breath and just think of one word.
Noel.
Silly, you say? Try it again, seriously. Just breathe, close your eyes, forget whatever is troubling you for just a moment.
Noel.
How can you think of that word and not feel at peace?
~~~

It had been a long week, too long, and it wasn’t even over yet. Staring at a computer screen seemed to lull her entire being into a state of constant acceptance: no matter what happens, just live, just function, that’s all that matters. Get the job done. It wasn’t a bad mantra; it was a downright good thing to use one’s talents in such a way.
But does there come a time when even that is not enough? She thought glumly, fidgeting with the apple core that was the only surviving remnant of her lunch. This is almost like Groundhog Day or something. Every morning, wake up. Get in the car. Get on the Metro. Write letters. I’m not complaining, but can I still be doing this when I’m 30?
She allowed herself to be carried away a while by the soft music she played over her computer. It was some synthesized Celtic music, a cheap CD from some mass-marketed store, but if she couldn’t be on a moor of heather or surveying verdant hills in Scotland at the moment, this would have to do. Then a sound interrupted her short mental vacation, a near-pleasant ring of two notes that let her know an email had just arrived. She opened her eyes into the giant, all-encompassing eye of the computer once more.
Expecting something work related – “NASPER briefing tomorrow,” “Fix the lower margin of the following 10 letters” – she was surprised to read a single statement from a friend.
“Thursday is the day before Friday and God is watching over you.”
All self-evident truths. It was Thursday. Tomorrow was Friday. And whether her attitude reflected it or not, the Almighty Creator of the universe was watching over her. So why did the statement seem so refleshingly out of place?
Because it’s simple, she thought to herself. It’s not complex, it’s not a formula. It just is.
What did it mean for God to be watching over her? God watched over everything, but even that seemed a little distant and cold. But then a light air of the music that played over her computer’s small speakers caught her ear and heart. They reminded her of a song that was usual to think of in the middle of July, when it was over 90 degrees and over 90 percent humidity.
Noel, noel, noel, noel, born is the King of Israel!
Slightly annoyed at the idea that she’d have a Christmas song stuck in her head for the rest of the day, she shifted uncomfortably and resolved not to him the tune aloud. She paused then, thoughtfully, and wondered.
Why is it that we think of Christmas as a time of peace? Why can’t we have that the whole year, like we always say we will?
Then the words flowed from a wellspring she did not understand.

The first Noel the angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay,
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep
On a cold winter’s night that was so deep…

So there the shepherds were, minding their own business, tending to their job – or however many hundred there were of them. You can almost see them settling in after a long day of walking, seeking, finding, bearing loads, shearing, perhaps. They’re reclining on a hillside and trying to find a comfortable place to lay. And then, suddenly, their ordinary life is turned upside down. And why?
Because God wanted it to.

They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the east beyond them far,
And to the earth it gave great light,
And so it continued both day and night…

How many hundreds of thousands of people saw that star? Did they marvel at its brightness in the midnight sky? How phenomenal to think that they would be there, for such a time as this, to witness such an extraordinary event!
… or were they so busy with their own lives that they didn’t bother to look Heavenward, and completely missed it as a consequence?
She finally smiled. Maybe that’s what it was for God to be watching over her. She just had to look up to realize that’s what He was doing… and realize the stars would come in due time.
So in her heart, she sang.

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord;
That hath made heaven and earth of naught,
And with his blood mankind hath bought!

Noel, noel, noel, noel; born is the King of Israel!

A few moments more

I had to leave off part of yesterday in my blog, because I hadn’t lived it yet. But it’s worth telling – at least telling what I can. We had a wonderful service at church, actually discussing some of the things the girls and I had been talking about earlier in the day. It was cool for that to be reinforced, and just to sing. We had a great set of hymns, all about God’s love – “O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus” being one. It was terrific. Post-church was interesting. After a bit of socializing at church, we wandered off to Starbucks and must have been sounding like the girls we are as we meandered through the townhouses in southeast, between church and our coffee place. As we passed a gentleman pruning his bushes – bright green and standing out against the bright red brick house with red shutters – he smiled a knowing smile and simply offered a word of advice.

“Let him know how you feel,” he said. “Give him a chance.”

We all giggled. If you ask me in five years, I might tell you why.

The dimming light cast shades of pastel pink and blue over the Capitol dome. The coming night air was perfect, San Diego in quality – that being, of course, the highest. We eventually returned to the car.

As we drove over the bridge, across the Potomac, the sky turned a hundred shades of purple. The Rosslyn skyline was framed by a colorful sky above and a reflective river of light below. It was perfect. The wind tossed my hair about, plucking it slowly out of the barrette that held it up and back. Whether my eyes were open or closed, the world seemed the same.

Maybe that is what rest is.

I had a good, long talk with my Mom before bed. It didn’t take me long to slip into sleep. I don’t remember many details, but I do have a distinct recollection of dancing in my dreams. I don’t know if it was with someone, or who that someone was if that’s indeed what I was doing, but I remember it felt like freedom. I wanted to stay.

But instead, I woke up refreshed, and three minutes before my alarm clock to boot. I curled up with the Word and really prayed for the first time in ages. It was wonderful. God blessed me with a wonderful weekend – and even a wonderful Monday. I could do this thing for a while…

Wishing

A perfect one-thirty-first of July

Today was what I had in mind when I first moved with my girls to Alexandria. Of course, I’d pictured us hosting parties and having people over all the time, too, but it seems we’ve been going non-stop for months now. Between weddings and holidays and plans made, we’ve had little time to stop, explore, exist for a while. Usually it’s just the three of us on weeknights, but by the time we get home, we’re all so exhausted the agenda is generally relegated to food, movie/reading, and bed. We got a sabbatical this weekend and enjoyed it immensely.

The day was bright and clear, not the usual mid-July Virginia heat. It was around 90, but with little humidity and a light breeze, it was perfect for walking. We actually got up and ready in time for core seminars this morning. It was great because we all got ready and then looked at each other. Our color scheme matched perfectly. I had found an Ann Taylor dress Ash left in my closet, a light summery number that I fit into; Sarah wore a white top and blue skirt, the same hue of which I had in my dress; and Allis happened to borrow one of Sarah’s summer dresses that had the same blue-green theme. So not only were we up and at’em, we were cute too J And since we got to church at 9:30, we had a full morning of teaching, which was very refreshing. There was also a baptism, which is always fun and a cause of reflection and rejoicing.

After church we changed shoes, put on hats and sunglasses, and meandered over to Starbucks, as usual. Coffee and sandwiches all around. But we didn’t linger there as long as we usually do. Instead, we went over to Bartholdi Park, right next to my office actually, which is part of the National Botanical Gardens. It’s in perfect bloom right now, but unfortunately, the 130 year old fountain featured therein is out of commission, much to Allis’ chagrin. But we were there a good while; I tried to get some color on my legs, Allis took off with her camera and Sarah vegged. We all reunited eventually and talked about God’s sovereignty and how it relates to our lives, and the difficulty between knowing something in theory versus the living of it practically. We then decided to try out the parks behind the House office buildings to see if their fountains were on so we could cool off our feet. Sadly, our journey was in vain, for both fountains were also out of commission. But we observed other people there, and all the police in the vicinity, as that part of town is mostly staffers and police, and most of the staffers had enough sense to not be working on a day such as this.

I talked my girls into going to a park I knew on the Senate side, one I went to a lot when I lived at Heritage two years ago. We walked past the Library of Congress, the Supreme Court. Came to the park and found that for some reason, it was also participating in the “say no to actually using the fountains” day that is apparently going on in D.C. By that time it was very warm and we walked a few extra blocks to Union Station. It was blessed cool and offered smoothies, which were much needed and appreciated by our weary trio. We took our drinks up to the main hall, that majestic marble-rich floor bustling with activity. We people-watched and relished being in a part of town where we, as adopted “natives,” obviously stuck out. The place was packed with tourists and it felt good for once to stick out like a sore thumb.

Next we stopped by a park we used to go to after church to study – I forget its name, but there is a statue – big surprise, I know, it is D.C. after all – of a Revolutionary War commander whose name was Nathanael something and he’s riding his horse in his tripoint. Sarah went to one bench to talk to Peter on the phone and Allis and I stated under the shade of a huge oak tree and talked about all manner of random things.

We decided it would be good to go home to relax a bit and change before evening church, so we headed toward the car. We made a nearly perfect circle around the northeast corner of the city over the course of our afternoon. It was lovely to come back to a nicely air conditioned house and wash our feet, rest a while. I crashed on my bed and listened to a piano instrumental CD and lay in that happy state between consciousness and rest, where you are alert enough to know you’re resting but far gone enough to be rousted if an unexpected noise is heard.

So now we’re about to head out to evening church. After that, I’m not really sure what we’ll do. We need to go grocery shopping, but part of me wants to meet up with the group from church that goes to IHOP after the service. We’ll see.

At any rate this has been a perfect one-thirty-first of July, with two of my best friends, talking about God and relationships and walking around under a Virginia blue sky with verdant trees striking up against the white wisps of cloud that raced every now and then. I know I won’t have this forever, but I get to right now. And that is a pretty amazing thing. God has richly blessed me beyond what I ever could have asked or imagined, and I’m crazy when I let myself think He won’t be faithful.

Expectancy

More than anything else, my living room feels more like a hospital waiting room right now. Don’t know if it’s more like a maternity ward or a geriatric wing. By God’s grace I’ve not been in either in my lifetime, not yet. But I’m very fretful for my dear roommate, whom I’ve not heard from in over two hours, even though she’s just upstairs in her room. She’s having a conversation she’s not been looking forward to and I know it will be hard on her. It seems unfair that such a good person should have to suffer so. Just for being in love.

But fairness isn’t the promise, is it? Perseverance is.

Much harder to measure that.

What else do we wait for? Acceptance letters to college. Job offers. Even more excruciating, calls for job interviews. Airplanes. Security clearances. (Ask Sarah about that one some time if you have an hour to spare… kidding…) We wait for a lot of things. But how much time do I spend waiting on the Lord? Or is it not about a beginning and end, set times and seasons, but an ongoing process of waiting for eternity?

There is the school that says eternity has already begun. Which is true. If Christ doesn’t return in our lifetime, we will experience death, albeit for a moment, but our eternal life is already secure. Yet it’s going to be so completely different and outside our realm of ability to ask or imagine or think, how can we even count these days as credit toward eternity? It seems to bolster the credit of these days, or diminish those of Heaven. Neither option seems wise. So do we wait for eternity – is that what it means to wait on the Lord?

It’s raining tonight. We’ve got a classic hurricane-remnants-and-Virginia-summer-humidity thing going on at the moment. All in all, it’s quiet. Allis is resting on the plaid chair. (For those of you who haven’t seen it and are taking mental pictures, don’t worry, it’s a tasteful plaid.) Enya is playing on our sound system. The fridge is humming. And if you listen closely you can hear big rain drops – I think it’s between fronts at the moment, so it’s only the drops that have collected on the trees and slowly gathered, tricking down branches and leaves, to finally make a final flight to rest on the earth a while. Till God in His providence causes them to rise again.

If raindrops could think, I wonder if they, too, would anticipate the time they will return to the heavens.

See You Forever

Six years ago today – it’s hard to believe it was that long ago – I was at a camp in the Sierra Nevadas, nestled behind a hillside and in the midst of giant granite boulders, towering trees, the scent of pine and dust heavy on the hot summer air. I was there with eleven of my peers and a handful of adults, taking a month to figure out more of who I was, but most importantly, who God is. We talked a lot about Heaven at the Caleb Project. I am still excited about the fact that someday, we’ll all be together again forever, especially since we’ve lost touch with each other, for the most part. I know April is married; I hear Daniel and Ali are, too. (But not to each other, for the record!) I know where Jason and Erin are simply based on the fact that they predate Caleb in my life. Alicia is probably leading worship somewhere, but I’ve not heard from her in ages. And the rest… I have no idea. But somehow I know we’re all thinking about each other today.
Why? Because on this day six years ago, God called Home one of our counselors, one of His saints. He was a mountain biker and loved Hume Lake, but not nearly as much as he loved his fiancée, Jenny. And he was fond of the phrase “see you forever,” which we adopted as our Caleb group’s phrase after his death. So when I heard this Vertical Horizon song this week, it truly struck me, as I’d never really listened to the words before. It was as if it was written for the mourners of this tragedy. I thought I would post part of the lyrics for all my fellow Calebites, especially for Jenny, in memory of TJ, and above all, in celebration of God’s sovereignty in this world.
SYF.

Call me close once again,
Call me teacher, call me friend;
Just like the first time…
I don't know if you hear me there,
But it's dark, so no one cares;

But I will hear you forever, forever,
I will hear you forever, forever…

I wanted you to be everything to me,
Now I've got to learn to carry on
I know I cannot hide this emptiness inside
But nothing is the same since you've gone…

Send me letters from above
Send me strength, send me love;
Sing me songs that echo in my head and in my heart
That's where you are…

I don't know if you see me,
But I can tell you your face is clear

And I will see you forever, forever,
I will see you forever, forever…

July 4

Last July 4, I celebrated independence in a whole new way. I dropped by Dad off at Portland airport for his flight home and sobbed as I drove back to the hotel where I was staying. That was the start of my four month exile in Oregon. It was the first time I moved to a whole new place without any sort of a stable context. No family. No school. I was sort of propelled into a new world with only my God and my Acura. I learned so much, I lost so much and gained so much. I’m so glad I took that risk, I needed to break away for that time. I had to leave if I was to ever come back, and the task is now complete.

The year before that, part of my Independence Day celebration was going to Antietam with Christy. Her last name was Ross back then, and we had a very fun (but overwhelmingly HOT) day overlooking the battlefield, listening to a marvelous concert and seeing wonderful fireworks. That seems like forever ago. Both Christy and I bought awesome hats; she got a floppy hat and I got a straw hat. We took some very blackmail-caliber pictures. And Christy had this cool little hand-held battery-powered fan, like the ones we used to use in elementary school in San Diego when we didn’t have air conditioning in the summer. It was a very happy day, a sweet memory, particularly special because Tee’s now two thousand miles away.

That was also the year I first saw the fireworks in Washington. I was living at the apartments next to Heritage, and we got to watch the festivities from the newly refurbished Heritage roof. That was incredibly fun. And I surprised all my intern friends because they’d been under the impression that I was this withdrawn conservative person that never did anything fun. That night, I showed them I could dance. That was cool.

The year before that was the first year I went to Antietam. It was the summer I worked camps at school, serving with Faith and Cami in the kitchen. We had the week of the 4^th off, which was a welcome respite in the middle of eight weeks of screaming teenage homeschoolers. Which is downright terrifying, for the record. So a group trekked to Antietam. We also went up to the Wolshlegel’s to swim, look at Pennsylvania cornfields, and see some fireworks in College Park. The only thing we brought to eat was hot dogs. And I cannot stand hot dogs. Never have, and never will. I only had one bite and couldn’t eat anything else and subsequently starved. So that was memorable too, along with shucking corn. Lots and lots of corn. That was The Summer, and will always be capitalized as such to denote its importance. It was a transformation, one of many.

The year before that… wow… was the summer I graduated high school. I’m fairly certain I spent that July 4 with my parents at the Del Mar Fair. Well, now it’s the San Diego County Fair – so politically correct and boring if you ask me. Then again, it’s still Jack Murphy Stadium and the Padres just went to the World Series. I’m out of the San Diego loop and have been for some time.

It’s amazing to think what can happen in a year. In 2004, I didn’t know exactly what to expect of this 4^th of July. This year, I know not to expect anything of next year. There’s a joy in learning to expect the unexpected, a release and resolve to it. And I am glad.

Enjoy your freedom? Thank a Frenchman.

It’s almost July 4, the celebration of America’s declaration of independence from the British Empire, when we honor our forebears who had a vision of a more perfect union and were willing to lay down their lives for that cause. It’s a day of fireworks, ribs, corn on the cob, and red, white, and blue. And I’m not just talking about the Star Spangled Banner, but of another flag that shares our national colors: the barred banner of France.
Now, France and America haven’t been on the best terms lately, and for good reason. French leadership hasn’t been on Bush’s wavelength on just about anything, so there’s been some conflict involved. Not to mention the Bill O’Reilly-led boycott of French cheese, French wine, French fries (but not freedom fries!), basically everything French. And that is all well and good. The modern French had it coming.
But some 230 years ago, there was a Frenchman with a much different feeling toward America. By the time he was 20, he had organized a contingent of his countrymen to come to the New World to fight the British and help the colonists secure independence. He contributed hundreds of thousands of dollars (in 1776 money, so adjust that to inflation…) to the cause of the revolution that was not repaid. He knew George Washington personally and served under his command in several pivotal battles. As a Major General, he commanded both French and American troops. Posthumously – and only within the last three years – he became the sixth person in history to become an honorary citizen of the United States. He was an aristocrat, but a warrior; a visionary, but was able to translate his philosophy into practicality; he was a Frenchman, but was more loyal to the overall cause of liberty than anything else. So this July 4, raise a toast of your beverage of choice, from Schmirnoff to sweet tea, to the Marquis de Lafayette. Merci beaucoup, monsieur.

Someone out there still thinks like this...

... and someday, when he finds me, we will be very happy. It may sound silly, but oh well. It's me after all.

“‘When a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future government.’”

“People don’t talk like that anymore, you know.”

“I know. But they should.”

From National Treasure

Seasons of...

Sarah made a funny comment on the way to church tonight. We were listening to one of the mix stations on the way to church, and Sarah noted that one of the songs was reminiscent of “last semester” – meaning a couple months ago. She paused and said, “Wow… I still measure in semesters.” I nodded. “What else is there to measure by? That’s what I’ve measured my life in for years.” And it’s true. The only other thing to measure by is campaigns… and we’ve not even seen a second Congressional cycle. This is one oddity with life after school. How do you measure it?

I do think we started a new season recently. Firefly season. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen them; even when I’ve gone inland, where the fireflies usually come first, I didn’t see them. But now they’re in our complex on these hot summer nights, out playing in the bushes and with the neighborhood kids and they’re utilizing the play set in the last reaches of twilight. They’re even in the laundry room. They tell me its summer, and so long as they are around, the days will be warm and sometimes humid, there will be slightly more leeway at work for early days and adventure. Like Antietam this weekend. (*grin* y’all should come on that note!) So this is a firefly season. But what will I look back on this time as in a year? Five years? Fifty years? Will this semester have a name? How will I mark it?

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes,
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights,
In sunsets,
In midnights,
In cups of coffee?
In inches, in miles
In laughter, in strife?
In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes,
How do you measure
A year in the life?

Reflections on a busy day of a busy week

It’s been quite the week.
We’ve been blessed with San Diego-like weather: hot and dry with “abundant sunshine,” as the Post calls it from time to time. Earlier this week, the morning sky was that crystal blue that you always see in the movies when they film D.C. It defines the creamy white of the memorials, the sharp point of the Washington Monument cutting against the sky.
Wednesday was a very full day, one that made me feel very immersed in D.C. society. Whether that is a good thing or not remains to be seen. The start was good; I made my 8 a.m. book discussion group. We’re really getting into the meat of it and I enjoy talking about all the fun worldviews stuff. I’m going to need to reread the book, though. I’m going through it too fast.
Then it was to work, and after a few hours I stole down one floor to say hello to Ashley before her organization’s lecture and to steal some food. But on account of my guilt and her petitions, I decided to say. Os Guinness, the speaker, was very good. He talked about freedom, and I thought he had a good, needed perspective on the matter. I’ll have to think more about it when I have time. Good lecture, though, and hopefully a challenge to all of us with the propensity to throw ourselves behind something (e.g. a party) and cry “full speed ahead” while the ship is sinking.
Worked more, had a stack of mail come in (almost always depressing) but at least the majority could go out as forms this time. So my stack is still manageable *content smile* Still want to actually catch up 100 percent – or at least something like it – one of these days. It’s about ¼ of what it used to be, so that is happy and a testament to God’s faithfulness. I keep thinking about coming in on the weekends to catch up and I may yet do that on a Saturday, but I know the times I’ve wanted to come in on Sundays I’ve felt very convicted to consecrate that as the Lord’s day. I’m not Sabbatarian in the strict sense of the word, but I believe it is important to remember why God called us to rest. And I think He quickens us to do better during the workweek sometimes when we obey that command in particular. It’s cool how He works like that.
We were scuttled out of the office early to go to boss’ fundraiser. It was the first time I’ve been to one of these things as a staffer. That was sort of cool. It was in the Capitol Hill Club, and this visit marked only the second time I’d entered that tenured building. I received quite a few compliments on my suit (the crème one), which was fun. I had the chance to speak with Gloria, my boss’ wife, and she is a wonderful lady. You can tell that in spite of all the sacrifices she’s had to make being a politician’s wife, she does it for no other reason than because she loves her husband, and that is enough. That is pretty inspirational.
I skipped out of the fundraiser a tad early to find the restroom and change into my new black dress. *wry grin* This was the dress that Sarah and my conscience wondered “when are you ever going to have a chance to wear something like that?” when I bought it three months ago, but it wasn’t that expensive and I just loved the fit, so I got it anyway. Well, when I ran into Steve (friend from the campaign) at church and to make a long story short asked if I was going to a reception for a mutual friend this week, he asked if I wanted to accompany him. The occasion is that the lady in the family I lived with most of the time I was in Oregon was just appointed by President Bush to be Ambassador to Malta. Now if THAT isn’t weird, I don’t know what is. But I’m getting ahead of myself. So precisely at quarter to seven I walk out of the Capitol Hill Club in a different outfit than I was wearing when I walked in, which made me feel, well, very D.C.
So Steve picked me up and we headed over to the steakhouse at which the reception was held. It’s on the Senate side, that place with the big glass windows I used to walk by when I was at Heritage and think, wow, it’d be really cool to eat there someday. And while I didn’t exactly have a sit down dinner, I did eat there, so there is proof positive that some D.C. pipedreams and offhand comments do, in fact, come true.
It was very fun to see Molly – ur that is, Misses Ambassador – and a handful of folks from the campaign. *grin* One in particular seemed scandalized by my dress, bearing that sort of “church coordinator wearing spaghetti strap dress this does not compute” look. Met some cool people from the State Department who will be working with her. They were very interested to talk to; one is a linguist and was telling me how Maltese is a hybrid language between Italian and Arabic. Go figure that one. Another huge highlight was talking to Matt, Mister Ambassador (or whatever he’d be called). He’s been a stay at home dad since their family started to free Molly up to do her political thing. He is just one cool guy. He loves his kids and they’re important enough to him that having a career simply doesn’t matter to him anymore. And that is such a cool thing to see. They had two little ones when I lived with them and another baby girl arrived in March. So this young family is taking off to help change Malta for the better. They’re really excited and up to the task, and to them I wish Godspeed in the tasks ahead.
I shouldn’t drone further, but Wednesday was a particular busy day. I feel duly immersed in all things D.C. I hesitate to make a value judgment on whether that is good news of progressing the social ladder or a mark of slowly selling my soul to the city that has already claimed so many. But by God’s grace, I think I’m doing alright.

For anyone interested...

This is the link to the newest journalistic endeavor concerning PHC, from a writer who I understand actually lived on campus for a few months. It's... interesting. Response forthcoming, once I have time and decide I want to violate the sanctity of my evenings. *wry grin* I've decided that NOT being on my computer at night is one of the most relaxing and liberating things in the world... but that's a complete aside. Enjoy.

http://www.newyorker.com/fact/content/articles/050627fa_fact

One thought in the meantime, courtesy of an old 4Him song…

This world can analyze and size you up and throw you on the scales,
They can IQ you and run you through their rigorous details
They can do their best to rate you and they'll place you on the charts
And then back it up with scientific smarts;
But there's more to what you're worth than what their human eyes can see --

Oh, I say the measure of a man
Is not how tall you stand,
How wealthy or intelligent you are;
‘Cause I’ve found out the measure of a man
God knows and understands
For He looks inside to the bottom of your heart,
And what's in the heart defines
The measure of a man.

Remember When It Rained

Good Josh Groban song we were listening to going out to Leesburg last night. I liked it so I'm posting it.

Wash away the thoughts inside
That keep my mind away from You
No more love and no more pride
The thoughts are all I have to do

Oh, remember when it rained
Felt the ground and looked up high and called Your name?
O, remember when it rained
In the darkness I remain…

Tears of hope run down my skin
Tears for You that will not dry
They magnify the One within
Let the outside slowly die

O, remember when it rained
Felt the ground and looked up high and called Your name?
O, remember when it rained
In the darkness I remain…

Assurance

I am loved with an everlasting love,
Clothed in eternal righteousness,
My peace flowing like a river,
My comforts many and large,
My joy and triumph unutterable,
My soul lively with a knowledge of salvation,
My sense of justification unclouded.

Jesus smiles upon my soul as a ray of Heaven
And my supplications are swallowed up in praise.
How sweet is the glorious doctrine of election
When based upon thy Word
And wrought inwardly within the soul!
I bless Thee that Thou wilt keep the sinner Thou hast loved,
And hast engaged that he will not forsake thee,
Else I would never get to Heaven.

I wrong the work of Grace in my heart
If I deny my new nature and my eternal life.
If Jesus were not my righteousness and redemption,
I would sink into nethermost hell
By my misdoings, shortcomings, unbelief, unlove;
If Jesus were not by the power of His Spirit my sanctification,
There is no sin I should not commit.

O when shall I have His mind!
When shall I be conformed to His image?
All the good things of life and less than nothing
When compared with His love,
And with one glimpse of Thy electing favour.
All the treasures of a million worlds could not
Make me richer, happier, more contented,
For His unsearchable riches are mine.

One moment of communion with Him,
One view of His grace,
Is ineffable, inestimable.
But O, God, I could not long after Thy presence
If I did not know the sweetness of it;
And such I could not know except by Thy Spirit
In my heart, nor love Thee at all unless Thou didst
Elect me, call me, adopt me, save me.
I bless thee for the covenant of Grace.

~ The Valley of Vision

Martha, Martha, you are troubled and worried about many things...

Where is the line between being honest with God and choosing to not be content with your circumstances?

We had an interesting but very good Bible study the other night. The guest speaker was a missionary from southeast Asia. He led us through a brief overview study of Jacob’s life. While I think we tended to be pretty critical of Jacob – perhaps seeing in him the very things we should be purging from ourselves – and I appreciated this passage in particular, from Genesis 32:

⁹Then Jacob said, "O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac, the LORD who said to me, "Return to your country and to your family, and I will deal well with you': ¹⁰I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and of all the truth which You have shown Your servant; for I crossed over this Jordan with my staff, and now I have become two companies. ¹¹Deliver me, I pray, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau; for I fear him, lest he come and attack me and the mother with the children. ¹²But You said, "I will surely treat you well, and make your descendants as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude."'

I appreciate the fact that he’s honest about his fears, but responds to them himself with the truth of God’s preexisting and preeminent promise. I think that sets a good model for us. Too often we tend to be one way or the other, either listing a plethora of human faults and fears or simply repeating wheat we’re supposed to be thinking without acknowledging that God may be trying to teach me something in particular. So there is a balance. Jacob wants this something more, he wants to believe the promise. Can you hear the echoes – “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!” But he is also aware of his circumstances. And sometimes, isn’t acknowledging the impossibility of it all a part of how God gets more glory when He does pull through, as He always does?

And the funny thing is, too, as exemplified in Jacob’s life, so many times the blessing is right there before our eyes, but we’re so busy trying to make it happen or assist God if we think His timing is off that we are missing the exceedingly abundant blessing that is already there. We also have to remember that the patriarchs all died in faith, not having seen all the promises fulfilled… but they still believed. But weren’t there times they longed, too?

I had a really fun evening tonight. After work, my girls and Aaron hit Old Town Alexandria. We found a nice Thai bistro with outdoor seating – it was perfect weatherwise, for the record. Just spectacular. We enjoyed our respective dishes (yay for Thai style fried rice, still one of my favorite things in life!) and then walked down King Street all the way to the waterfront. I’d never been down there before and was just dazzled. It was much like San Diego’s Seaport Village, but with East Coast flair. There’s a whole bunch of nice restaurants, each with a distinct personality and style, and specialty stores lining the streets. A few tour guides in colonial era costume were getting ready to lead a ghost tour. Lanterns were lit outside the stone buildings, and we came to the water, where the boats flowed gently back and forth and street musicians played their tunes. A gentle breeze, twilight, company of friends – it was wonderful. So why did I have to fight to keep my mind from going back to, “this is so romantic… if only there was someone I could be sharing this with!” Obviously, I’m sharing it with three people right now, so what have I to complain about? God’s not left me alone. I have the love and companionship of amazing people. So why can’t I focus on and be grateful for that?

As we were walking back, I put my arm around Sarah. We both acknowledged that she wished I was someone else, and had a good laugh about that. At least she knows who she’s missing.

I was very convicted reading Jesus’ admonition to Martha the other day. “You are troubled and worried about many things.” I can almost hear the disappointment, the pleading in His voice. "Martha, don’t you see the most important thing is right here in front of you? Do you want to miss the blessing?"

Leeann, Leeann, you are worried and troubled about many things. So tell Me about them, leave them here, I will take care of them – and I will give you rest, if you’ll only let Me.

Tonight

Not much going on tonight. A lot of thoughts, but not many coherent. It was a pretty night, humid but pretty. We had a storm around twilight, and it turned the sky yellow. The bright green of the trees and the gray skies were all mixed in an off-gold hue. I made basil spaghetti; the fresh herbs, onions and garlic filled the house. It smelled so good. I scurried around the kitchen as my roomies recovered from romping around with the neighbor kids. It was nice to just be home and have some time to cook, but they’d already eaten. I was bummed I didn’t have anyone to cook for but oh well. I curled up with my dinner and a fun story (thanks, Peter!) and just existed a while. It was nice, and I could certainly get more used to that. Maybe for another lifetime.