Wanting Love

He just wants love.

Of course, he won't tell you this, not in so many words, but the truth of it lurks just beneath the tough "I don't care" attitude he wears like a cloak. It has its influence in every decision he makes, every word he says, every look he gives. Though it can be difficult to detect beneath the cigarette smoke and profanity, though the half-closed eyes and drawled speech and uncut hair are all designed to exude apathy, he just wants love.

She just wants love.

She masks her desire with her busy life--with taking kids to soccer, to music lessons, to dance. With cooking meals and cleaning the house and being a member of the PTA, the homeowners' association, the local evangelical church. Underneath her perfectly ordered life is the desire for something more, for something real, for a solid relationship and a deep connection. Though she hides it well, she just wants love.

He just wants love.

From the outside, he has no need of it. He wears a three-piece, pinstripe suit and sits in a corner office with a view. Slowly but surely, he's climbed that corporate ladder, doing what it takes to make it to the top. Nobody has more authority in the company that has become his world, but it is not enough. Though he smiles with confidence, though his car and home and wardrobe exude wealth and privilege, he just wants love.

She just wants love.

She's looked for it--looked for it in all the wrong places. From people at school who rejected her, from modern-day Pharisees like me who ignored her, from the boyfriend who abused her. In her desperate attempts to find it, hold it, keep it, she's given herself away piece by piece and has only received emptiness in return. Though she has hidden what's left of her heart safely behind impenetrable walls, she just wants love.

They just want love. The outcasts, the losers, the broken and the hurt and the lonely. The soccer moms and the hard-working dads and the wearers of masks. The loud coworkers and the grumpy grocery clerks and the moody teenagers. They just want love.

But then, don't we all? At the end of the day, when we strip away all pretenses, isn't that what drives each of us? That desire for love, for significance, for acceptance? We have need of real connection, meaningful interaction. Though we try to hide it or ignore it or fill it with other things, we just want Love.

And Love? Love whispers our names, calls to us, woos us and hopes we will respond. Love weeps when we choose other things, for Love's desire for us is as great as our need for Love.

We just want Love. And the beauty, the wonder, the awe of it is that Love wants us in return.

Inspiration

I'm breaking my (unintentional!) silence today to point you to another blog.

I discovered Stuff Christians Like by Jon Acuff a few months back, and, like the other 75,000-90,000 people who read that blog, I've found it witty and challenging all at once. Of his recent posts, I especially appreciated this one--because it addresses something I do ALL the time.

Yesterday, Jon wrote of his desire to use his blog (and his enormous number of readers) to do something good, something worthwhile. His goal was to raise $30,000 (no small sum) by December 31, 2009, and, through Samaritan's Purse, build a school for kindergarteners in Vietnam. He asked his blog community to step up to the plate and be a part of it. He admitted it seemed a big task--his exact words were "I've never done this before and raising $30,000 feels like $19 million right now."

Be that as it may, we serve a God who desires to do big things, and when somebody with a vision cast it out to the readers of his blog, they responded in a big way. The $30,000 goal was reached in just 18 hours, with only about a 10th of the normal traffic he sees in a month visiting his site. So, he's expanded his goal to $60,000 so that a second school can be built and so that those who didn't visit his site yesterday would still have the opportunity to give.

This story has caused me to consider two things:

First, are my dreams too small and my fears too big? There are days that I pass up an opportunity, that I don't take the first step toward realizing a goal because I think it's too impossible, too big for me to accomplish. Am I limiting my God to my puny hopes and dreams because they seem so large to me, when in reality He wants to do so much more?

And second--if one guy with a dream, in a down economy, can inspire that kind of giving among the readers of his blog, what is the unrealized potential in the Church? What is God just waiting to do, if only we would rise up and answer His call? What kind of difference could we make, given the right leadership, if only we turned our words and our sermons and our songs into loving action? It would turn the world upside-down--kinda like when 12 guys who had seen the Truth latched on to that vision and started a movement that would change everything.

I want to be a part of something like that.

The Agony Ride

Every July, as the month draws to a close, people gather in the beautiful Sierra Valley in the high mountains of California. They come from various parts of the country and different walks of life, each with his or her own memories and stories and reasons for being there. Together they paint a picture of the larger body of Christ.

They are ordinary people, these folks who gather once a year, this small handful of a few hundred souls. They are tall and short, plump and thin, old and young. They embody a wide range of fitness--from the guy in his 20s who rides in 24-hour mountain bike races to the septuagenarian with diabetes. Ordinary people--nurses and engineers and construction workers, students and teachers and cooks, receptionists and retirees and mechanics--but together, by the grace of God, they accomplish something extraordinary.

This is the Agony Ride, an annual benefit in which people choose (voluntarily!) to commit to riding a bicycle as far as they can manage in one 24 hour time period. For some, their goal is met when they reach 50 miles. For others, the aim is well over 300, even as many as 400 miles. Whatever that number happens to be, they give it their best effort: one pedal stroke following another, through the cold of the night and the heat of the day, braving wind and dark and pot-holed pavement, pushing their tired bodies past the point of exhaustion, ignoring their aching muscles and throbbing joints to go one more mile. Many might call this drive to keep riding, this willing subjection of oneself to agony (for the ride is aptly named) a sign of insanity, but for those who witness it, it is a gift, an expression of love, a testimony to the Giver of all good gifts.

Others, who choose not to ride or who are unable to ride, support them along the way, offering food and water and back rubs and smiles and encouragement. And all of these people working together--those who ride and those who support them--demonstrate in a very real and tangible way the love of Christ for those who have never seen such love in action before this day. More than love, however, they demonstrate the functioning of the body with each person adding to the value of the whole, the importance of fellowship, the wonder of humble service.

They are together for a mere 30 hours, up in those tiny towns hidden in a high valley in the mountains. A blip in the vast stretches of time, but one that seems oh-so-long as it happens. They begin to gather on Friday morning, but the extraordinary nature of this event begins much earlier than that--weeks, even months before this fruit is seen. Before the first pulse rate is taken, the first pedal stroke executed, the first water bottle filled, this story began with prayer and hope and preparation. There were the training rides, the search for sponsors, the hours spent telling the Father of the dreams and needs for this year's ride. And now those things come to fruition and the mighty things that can be done by God through His people can be seen clearly.

There's a country song making its way through the airwaves with a chorus that says "God is great, beer is good, and people are crazy." Visit this beautiful valley high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains the last weekend in July and you'll see two of these statements demonstrated right before your eyes. And maybe, just maybe you'll learn, as I have, that crazy people can do incredible things in the service of a great God.

P.S. This year's ride is over, but that doesn't mean it's too late to donate to Christian Encounter. We hope to see you there next year!

On Writing

I sit at the computer, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Staring off into space, I let my mind wander, thoughts and feelings and ideas jumbling together into a heap of confusion. I have no idea how to express what I want to say. Hesitantly, I peck out a few words, think better of it, and press the delete key until my screen is blank again.

This is my writing process--sifting through thoughts, letting them tumble about in my brain for hours, days, weeks, then painstakingly massaging them into words and sentences and paragraphs. And while this process is what works for me, I realize that sometimes it is good to break out of that routine, to let myself write without quite so much time spent in thought. This need to have each word be just right, to have each sentence be so carefully crafted, exhibits an inner perfectionism and desire to be in control--things that are part of who I am, but are good to challenge every now and then.

It's freeing to just write, to let the thoughts flow onto the screen, and I'm realizing that my normal approach can actually hinder my creativity. There are evenings when I want to write, when I have the time to do so, but choose to do something else instead because I cannot get the words just right. Excellence is good and it is certainly worthwhile to strive for it, but I should not let my lack of ability to make everything perfect prevent me from doing anything at all.

I wonder what other endeavors I've abandoned because I could not perform as well as I felt I ought on every attempt. Am I closing doors on opportunities and friendships and activities because of this push for excellence? And what, exactly, is this perfectionism anyway? Do I feel this drive because I truly want to do my best to bring glory to God? Or is it pride, ever worming its way into my mind and heart, telling me I don't want to show any weakness?

This writing, this blog, is my attempt to work through the thoughts and issues that have been on my heart, to help me form them into some sort of cohesive whole so that I can make sense of them. How can it serve such a purpose if I don't allow myself to write until my thoughts are fully formed?

Wonder

I want to be passionate about this life I'm living, to grab it by both horns and go for it with everything I'm worth. I don't ever want it to be a habit, a go-to-work-then-go-to-bed-then-do-it-all-over-again kind of thing that is routine. I want to approach each day with wonder, amazed by the universe, its God, and the people He created, living my life in a constant state of gratitude and awe.

We're just beginning a vacation to celebrate 2 years of wedded bliss, and this is a chance to regain some of that wonder. First stop? The Monterey Bay Aquarium--an incredible place to marvel at the creativity of the Master of the universe. :)

Missing Creativity

The last few months have been filled with teaching and learning and working, with graduations and memorials and family visits, with weekend trips and outdoor adventures and time with friends--in short, with the moments and events that shape a life. And so, because the number of minutes in a day is finite, other things, important things, have gone undone. My creative outlets have been neglected: my camera sits, dusty, on the shelf; my journal's pages remain blank, untouched for several weeks; the sewing machine is tucked back into a corner of the closet, its needle dull and unused; and my own corner of the web gathers cobwebs and loses readers as each day passes. And though the endeavors on which I have spent my time are worthy and valuable and necessary, I find I miss these other things too.

I miss looking through the lens of my camera, miss the time spent framing and capturing the beauty of the world around me, the satisfaction of freezing a moment of time, the mesh of light and color and subject that make a great photograph.

I miss the feel of fabric as I gently slide it through the machine, miss the feeling of making something both beautiful and useful, the quiet moments lost in thought, the slow molding of scattered scraps into a coherent whole.

I miss writing, miss the flow of words, the dance of fingers on a keyboard, the stroke of a pen on a page. I miss the clarity that comes as I allow half-formed thoughts to shape themselves into sentences, the sense of accomplishment felt as each word falls into place like a pearl on a string.

During this week's sermon, Mike spoke for a few moments about how our creativity is part of what distinguishes us, part of what "makes us a little less than God (Ps 8:5)*", and it is time I begin to explore this part of myself again. Out come the journal, the camera, the sewing machine. And with a soft whoosh of breath, I carefully begin to clear the dust from this lonely site. Thoughts have been brewing, and I am ready to make the time for them once again.

Hello, old friend. I've missed you.

*The other, more important part of what makes us little less than God is our capacity for building eternal relationships. This is NOT something that has fallen by the wayside for the past few months, and, for this reason, I do not regret the break from creativity.

Twenty-Five

When I was a kid, Sesame Street was one of my favorites. They always had a part of the show that was "brought to you by" a particular letter. Well, today's blog post just happens to be brought to you by the number 25! Are you excited?

In honor of 25, here are 25 random facts:

1)25 is the smallest square that is the sum of 2 squares (3^2 + 4^2)

2)The atomic number of manganese is 25.

3)Twenty-five is the national card game of Ireland (who knew there were such things as national card games?).

4)Twenty-five is the minimum age specified in the US Constitution for members of the House of Representatives.

5)Most rental car agencies and insurance companies consider one an adult when he (or she) reaches the age of 25, and adjust rates accordingly.

6)The 25th amendment to the Constitution was ratified in 1967. It specifies presidential succession.

7)The 25th book of the bible is Lamentations.

8)The 25th book of the New Testament is 3rd John.

9)Psalm 25 is an acrostic poem and is the basis for many songs, including Third Day's "My Hope is You".

10)Amaziah, Jotham, Hezekiah and Jehoiakim were all 25 years old when they became king of Judah.

11)A few months back, the "25 random facts" meme swept through Facebook (among other social networking sites) like wildfire. I did not participate.

12)Arkansas was the 25th state admitted to the Union.

13)Studies show that about 25% of humans will sneeze when they move into bright light.

14)United States mints have been producing quarters (twenty-five cent pieces) since 1796.

15)At its equator, the sun makes one full rotation every 25 days. At the poles, it takes about 36 days.

16)William F. McKinley was the 25th president of the United States.

17)25 is a 1-automorphic number, meaning that the square (625) ends in the number itself.

18)25 is also a centered octagonal number, meaning that you can form an octagon with a dot in the center using 25 dots (visit the link for a more precise explanation :-D).

19)There are 25 frames of video every second in the PAL format, which is the standard definition format typically used in Europe. (Since I'm an engineer at a company that produces equipment for the broadcast industry, this seems important to include in my list).

20)A silver anniversary is celebrated after 25 years of marriage.

21)In 2000, during the very close presidential election, Florida had 25 (key) electoral votes.

22)By week 25 of pregnancy, the baby weighs about 1.5 pounds, is about 8.8 inches long, and has a heartbeat that can be heard with a stethoscope.

23)Current life expectancy in the US is 77.8 years. This means that, by the time you've reached the age of 25, chances are you've lived at least one-third of your life.

24)According to a 2006 Gallup poll, the average American believes 25 is the "ideal age" for women to get married. In 1946, the ideal age was 21.

25)If 24 is such a great TV show, imagine how great 25 would be . . .

. . . so that last "fact" is maybe reaching a bit, but you'd be surprised how difficult it is to find 25 random facts :).

In all seriousness, though, 25 seems a big number, an adult number, a significant number worthy of some thought and reflection. I realize that our holidays and birthdays and anniversaries are somewhat arbitrary days that we humans note in this thing we call time, but it is by such days that we track our lives. The calendar and its special days add rhythm and order and structure to our time on Earth. And so, perhaps it is good for me to take some time today to think on the past twenty-five years and to dream and hope and plan for the next twenty-five.

... and, after typing all of this out, I realize that in making a fuss about how big and significant a number 25 is, I perhaps instead am demonstrating how young it is :).