August 30, 2007

stairwell accompaniment:Grace Potter and the Nocturnals

i dreamed i made myself a halo out of cardboard
i wrote you a letter on an old typewriter
i asked you not to save me this time

I need a rest. I need to hold my weaknesses and get to know them. I need to tell you what they are. To learn to speak the things I am not proud of.

I need forgiveness.
I need to ask.

I’m sick of these halfways. Getting away with things without even trying. Using idealism as an excuse for not trying at all, if it cant be perfect. I dont want to be remembered as the friend who always had something funny or clever to say. In the end that is trash. I want quietness to be meaningful. Words consume me too much already. I want to be a person who helps people be the way they should be, or the way they are late at night when no one is looking. I want to be that person. I dont want to be a meaningless parody or a halfhearted paraphrase. Please, please know me. and let me know you.

I want to find ways to show christ through things that look to be plain or useless. painful and true. He is here, too.

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August 27, 2007

stairwell accompaniment:The Shins

The newest collection of photos come from inside our apartment. The place we’ve been spending more time the past few weeks. Catching up from travels and hosting. I’ve resumed my lofty summer reading list and recently finished a book by Anita Diamant called The Red Tent. This excerpt caught my eye by hinting to the mood here recently:
“I found great joy in keeping my own house. There was such sweetness in deciding where to place a chair, and in choosing what to plant in the garden. I relished creating my own order and hummed whenever I swept the floor and folded the blankets… My house was a world of my own possessions, a country in which I was ruler and citizen, where I chose and I served.”
No, we do not own a house. For this season, a modest apartment. We have never been ones to prize our possessions but I am recently slow to realize the comfort of having a place of refuge and rest. Josh and I both love to travel and neither of us can honestly admit to periods of homesickness. Marriage has taught me the beauty of having home despite location. So our possessions may be few, our ties to location loose but the value of having a small place in the world to welcome friends and strangers has become valuable to us.

By principle we do not own a television. During our engagement we agreed to go tv-free our first year of marraige. I recommend this highly as a way to set a solid foundation of communication, prioritization and simplification. And never having regretted this decision, we are extending the benefits for years to come. I’m not so proud as to say that we will never own a television. Television itself is not the problem, common use of it is. And, we do not have children. But I would like to continue this habit because of the effect is has had on our marriage and collectively, our time spend in more fruitful activities such as reading, quiet time and inviting people into our home. Try it.

Josh and I both read with unsatiable thirst. I am an absurdly fast reader, Josh–not so much. But I am learning from the way he spends time really considering what he has read and perhaps allowing the words to go a bit deeper than I am accustomed to. When we first came to see this apartment, our first apartment, we both knew instantly that this needed to be the one. The entryway is a small room with bookshelves from floor to ceiling. These were quickly filled and now we are at a loss for what we will do when we move to a place that isn’t so fittingly equipped.

Our home is covered in phototraphs. I am passionate when behind the camera and Josh humors me. Josh and I often play the game of asking the other what they would like to be better at (possibly with the hope of attaching action to desire). Yesterday we were running along the river together (I want to be a better runner)and I asked Josh what physical activity he would like to be better at. He said frisbee. I, kyacking. But when it comes to skill I would say that I want to be a better photographer. Having photographs around reminds me not to overlook this desire.

To my sweet and similar-souled friends who have taken quiet moments to remind me that the time for chilled air, fiery leaves and warm drinks is on the horizon, thank you. This is a cool drink on these humid late-summer days.
This weekend Josh and I will venture once again from our abode to camp in wilderness with our dear friends Ham and Carli and their babies. Isabella, who was literally born on my knees, is now 8 months old and walking! Although this terrain will not permit the practice of kyacking, frisbee and camera-usage will abound.

August 18, 2007

We are in Alabama living a little slower.

Sharing with you from our day in Chattanooga, Tennessee:

Sam and Amanda’s Wedding

August 12, 2007

August 7, 2007

stairwell accompaniment:Damien Rice

and for you, Joy:

“That is why the real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.” _CS Lewis

summer drains me. i long for autumn. the season of coming in out of the wild.