Pensive Procrastination

Ever just have one of those days? And nights? And days? Well, I've had one of those weeks but I've decided to share a wonderful story with you about why my husband is so fantastic instead. Last night I wandered into our bedroom feeling pretty out of it (due to said days, and nights) and began getting ready for bed. Rob had headed in to get ready a little while before me and I saw a lump under the covers and assumed it was him. A few weeks ago he climbed into bed upside down so that when I pulled back the covers his feet were there instead of his head. I kind of ruined this by going somewhere else and he decided to climb out instead of suffocate under the blankets. He told me later and I had a good laugh. The lump under the covers looked a little funny so I figured that he had done the same thing as a few weeks ago, but as I turned around to go back to the bathroom a huge grinning face popped up from the side of the bed yelling "Rawwrr!" The grin on Rob's fa...

I've been reading this book called "The Happiness Project" (the link takes you to the blog) and I've found it interesting for many different reasons. I find it interesting reading it from the perspective of a Christian, and looking at how to achieve happiness for oneself seems to be a strange concept. This is something that the author, Gretchen Rubin, deals with throughout the book; is it selfish to try to figure out how to make oneself happier. As she goes about things she discovers that often people around her benefit from her attempts at finding happiness. There's something else that I've been finding fascinating about reading the book but I can't quite put my finger on it, maybe it's just more of the strange feeling about trying to discover happiness so systematically. Maybe it's because it seems so futile since it's somewhat short term, and what does increasing your happiness have to do with eternal life? But I guess we could say that ...

I took a short story course this past term with an absolutely passionate and fabulous Professor. One time before a test she winked at me as if to say "Chin up! It'll be great." She encouraged us and challenged us. It was beautiful, like a Dead Poets Society, except we did not stand up on our desks saying "Oh Captain, my captain." Nor did anyone die, nor did she remind me at all of Robin Williams. Alas, let me continue. As our final paper we were given the option of either writing a 8-10 page research paper (ugh! please no, not another one!) or writing a short story of our own, explaining our process and the different devices used. It is no secret that most of the class, including myself, picked to write a short story. I would like to share mine with you. It's based off of my trip to the DR Congo...different than the Congo. Hopefully you like it, I know it needs work so I'm open to suggestions. “Hope in the Heart of Darkness” The taxi bounced up a...

About two weekends ago my best friend and I embarked on an adventure to go on a canoe trip all on our own. We were going to take on the wilderness, ferocious chipmunks and all! We only got lost once, it only took us one try to start a roaring fire- out of a desire for s'mores and spider dogs, not out of necessity, we never flipped our canoe, only got burnt a little bit and were shown and given many amazing things on our long weekend adventure. Let me start off by mentioning a small blessing that we received. If you have ever been on a long canoe trip you will join with me in celebrating this blessing! First, a little context. We launched out at about 11 in the morning, paddling strong towards our destination in the hot summer sun... or so we thought. Turns out a map reader I am not and we headed to the wrong end of the lake, don't ask me how this happened but it did. After portaging into the wrong lake, being told from some nice men that we were in fact at the wrong end of ...

As I sit here in the basement of our library on campus I'm always struck by the silence (except for the group of people in the corner quietly talking). In fact, I think that I may come here sometimes in the month that I have "free" before the wedding to just sit in the silence with God and find peace. It's just that beautifully silent. I've been thinking a lot lately about what my faith personally means to me, why I do what I do, say what I say and think what I think. I've realized that my relationship with God has really become a part of who I am. Sometimes I find things popping out of my mouth so naturally that I'm surprised. While talking to a friend last week on campus I realized that there are so many things about God that I have come to accept without question. Now I'm not sure if this is good or bad, but I see it in the sense of childlike faith. At one time or another I have questioned aspects of God, at times I still do. But through all that ...

We spent a wonderful time at a retreat this weekend and I think that the general agreement was that it was possibly one of the best yet. We started to think about why this was, why did we feel that this retreat felt different than all the others we had been on as a college and careers group? We realized one thing, it was the sense of community, the sense that we were all there worshiping the same God and that brought us all together. We were able to share and interact with each other in a way that we hadn't really before. It was revolutionary in a very quiet way. But the impact was felt. I've been thinking a lot about worship lately, especially as Rob and I have been reading a one year devotional called Worship the King by Chris Tiegreen. I've begun to think about what worship really is, what it means, what it looks like, and the impact that it can really have on our lives. I came across this quote today by C.S. Lewis "The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is ...

Rebecca sits on the carpeted floor, her legs crossed and her eyes closed. A book is open sitting on her legs, the pages well loved, wrinkled, scribbled on and underlined. As she sits expectantly, her fingers softly smooth out the page of the book that rests in her lap. There’s a soft smile that lights up her face as she tilts her head up into the sunbeam that is streaming in through the large open window in front of her. A soft breeze touches her hair and caresses her face. A journal lies beside her on the floor, the last words scribbled on it are, “ I wait, expectantly, for You Father and only You.” As her eyes are closed a man walks barefoot softly into the room, more softly than would be expected for a man of His size. He silently sits across from her and beams at her as she tilts her face to the sun. He sits waiting, patiently, lovingly staring at her face. He reaches out to brush a flyway strand of hair away from her eyes and she opens them to see him reaching towards her. A l...