cute & something I've never seen before.
click here.
p.s. sorry for the bookmark delay. I've decided to print out the pics you all sent in and hand-collage them so they'll be a tad more personal :) you'll get one sooner or later, promise!
p.s.s. happy weekend, friends!
p.s.s.s. there was a phase in my life when I was really into the recorder.and when I really could play this song. and when I really would play it all the time. and when my parents regretted ever bringing me into the world. watch this video and you'll get a little taste of what 5th grade sounded like in the Thompson household. (also, I had a perm, so my hair looked kinda like that guys)
I'm in the market for a fresh pair of TOMS...
...but I'm a horrible decision maker.
should I go for a cool design & fun colors? (I'm leaning this way)
or stick with a traditional pair that's more practical?
should I go for a cool design & fun colors? (I'm leaning this way)
or stick with a traditional pair that's more practical?
please help me.
I can't think of a single thing
I'd rather be doing than making paper airplanes with Murphy right now.
together
I'm not sure if I can think of anything more precious, more biblical, or more a picture of what heaven's going to be like than community.
Funny, the way it sort of sneaks up on you. It doesn't always make itself known until you leave it for awhile, or you come back and are suddenly enveloped by it, or you have a rare slow moment in life when you become momentarily aware that you are loved by some really awesome people.
That's exactly how I would define it - community is a group of people commissioned by the Lord to love one another and to pursue something together. And you know what I adore most about that definition? The commissioned by the Lord part, the part that is supernatural, bigger than ourselves. We don't often get to choose the communities we end up in. Sure, you can pick one church over another, one city to live in over a different one, but even then - it seems you never quite know who is going to be placed in your life or what kind of purpose you'll chase after together.
The idea of community as a union of people living life together for a common purpose is not new by any means. In Genesis, God grants Noah and his family the responsibility of creating a fresh community on earth following the flood. In Ezra, God stirs the hearts of entire community groups to go to Jerusalem and rebuild His temple. In Acts, we see the development of an organized church, a community of people living lives of faith together. All throughout the New Testament, Jesus binds together a community of disciples as he heals people, gets to know them, breaks bread with them, loves them. In Revelation, we see a community of heavenly creatures, spending eternity together with the common purpose of praising God continuously.
What a treasure, that we are not meant to live alone, or even accomplish things alone, but that we are given these crazy, unexpected, wonderful things to do with our lives as we run forward together.
Perhaps one of the things that makes me ache the most for this world (or at least what I've seen in this country) is our idea that we don't need one another, that we should take care of ourselves. And yet, the more I get to know Christ, the more I am led to believe that this isn't how God intends for our lives to work. It seems to me that God desires to bless us by pushing us forward to unity, by working through our relationships, by stirring us to encourage one another and give up our things and our stubborn ideas and our lives even for the sake of loving. Sure, God could do whatever kind of work He wants in us all by Himself, but wouldn't we miss out on some awesome blessings if we refused community?
In his book, The Irresistible Revolution, Shane Claiborne talks about a new "spiritual economy" based on community. He says "the reality [of the divine] is realized only when we allow ourselves to be dependent on God and live in radical interdependence with one another." And it makes sense. Jesus depended on the hospitality of the communities he spent time with. He depended on his friends not only for fellowship, but for basic necessities. It makes me wonder...what implications does our world's inability to embrace a need for community have for the impoverished? Would life on earth look differently if we worked harder for unity? What needs would be met if we loved, genuinely, sacrificially loved the people in our communities because we knew and believed that God has commissioned us to do so?
I'm eager with an imagination that sees the world in a light of unity. What if we pray - pray big, enormous prayers, that communities would love one another well and care for one another, and that they would explode in size and in number? Maybe kids wouldn't starve to death so often. Maybe families wouldn't be broken so frequently. Maybe women would be reminded of their worth. Maybe people would have roofs over their heads. Maybe it starts with me and you, never giving up the chance to love or to be loved by the people we find ourselves running through life with.
I have a question:
do you smiley?
because I do. ALL the freaking time.
Here is a typical e-mail slash text message from me:
"hey :) (SMILEY) I hope you're doing great!!! :) (triple exclamation mark plus smiley) can't wait to see you soon! :) (that's THREE, count them- THREE smileys in one little tiny message)
Is this a problem? Are smileys making me seem silly and annoyingly cheerful? I'm trying to make sure people know that I'm being sincere....but it's possible that I'm just being obnoxious. I'm just not sure what is the proper etiquette with emoticons these days.
Because here's the thing- not only do I smiley...I also winky-face. You know, when I'm trying to be funny or sarcastic. I'll say "blah blah blah witty comment ;)". According to a conversation I recently had with my hometown small group, the winky-face is not only uncool, it's dangerous. Apparently sending the winky-face to boys is "flirting" with them. Not good. I winky-face boys all the time, I'm pretty sure. Now it seems that I have the reputation of being excessively perky AND a hussy. Great.
Here's another thing. Texting. Is it alright to use text-lingo, like "C U l8r"? I don't...I'm always pretty formal when I text for whatever reason, using appropriate punctuation and all. But what is the "cool" way to text? Is "LOL" officially nerdy now? (Side note- my friend Abby's mom would always write LOL after everything she sent to Abby. Like, "Hope you're having a nice day! LOL" or "Can you pick up milk on your way home? LOL." After confronting her mom about it, Abby's mother said, "Wait, doesn't that just mean "lots of love"? Parents + texting = hilarity) How many "haha"'s does one need to get the point across? Is it alright to use "Baha" if something is extraordinarily funny, or "tehehe" if something is only kinda funny, like enough for a giggle, or "mwahah" if you are doing an evil laugh, or is that just weird? How do you freaking make a joke WITHOUT the winky face and ensure that people know you're kidding but also that you aren't trying to pick them up???
Oh, what a complicated life...
because I do. ALL the freaking time.
Here is a typical e-mail slash text message from me:
"hey :) (SMILEY) I hope you're doing great!!! :) (triple exclamation mark plus smiley) can't wait to see you soon! :) (that's THREE, count them- THREE smileys in one little tiny message)
Is this a problem? Are smileys making me seem silly and annoyingly cheerful? I'm trying to make sure people know that I'm being sincere....but it's possible that I'm just being obnoxious. I'm just not sure what is the proper etiquette with emoticons these days.
Because here's the thing- not only do I smiley...I also winky-face. You know, when I'm trying to be funny or sarcastic. I'll say "blah blah blah witty comment ;)". According to a conversation I recently had with my hometown small group, the winky-face is not only uncool, it's dangerous. Apparently sending the winky-face to boys is "flirting" with them. Not good. I winky-face boys all the time, I'm pretty sure. Now it seems that I have the reputation of being excessively perky AND a hussy. Great.
Here's another thing. Texting. Is it alright to use text-lingo, like "C U l8r"? I don't...I'm always pretty formal when I text for whatever reason, using appropriate punctuation and all. But what is the "cool" way to text? Is "LOL" officially nerdy now? (Side note- my friend Abby's mom would always write LOL after everything she sent to Abby. Like, "Hope you're having a nice day! LOL" or "Can you pick up milk on your way home? LOL." After confronting her mom about it, Abby's mother said, "Wait, doesn't that just mean "lots of love"? Parents + texting = hilarity) How many "haha"'s does one need to get the point across? Is it alright to use "Baha" if something is extraordinarily funny, or "tehehe" if something is only kinda funny, like enough for a giggle, or "mwahah" if you are doing an evil laugh, or is that just weird? How do you freaking make a joke WITHOUT the winky face and ensure that people know you're kidding but also that you aren't trying to pick them up???
Oh, what a complicated life...
on the process of the thing
Here's how it works for me. First I have to fall in love with one line. Just a few words, just enough for me to sink down into. This line will come from God-knows-where when I am least expecting it. Maybe when I'm driving in my car and blasting that new Eminem song I'm ashamed to admit I like, or maybe when I'm foaming milk for an extra dry cappuccino, or maybe when I'm in a hurry to leave the house and have no time for an inconvenient little poem. But it will come, and then I'm stuck with it.
So then I have the line. The rest of the day is spent in it's company. I play it again and again and again in my mind like a record until I know it inside and out. I hold it up to myself like a dress and wonder what types of accessories go along with it. I hum it inside my brain like repeating a mantra. I imagine it swimming free in the ocean at sunset. I imagine it stuck in the house all day. I let it eat dinner with me. I take it for a walk around old town. I let it wear me like a costume so I can see the world from it's eyes.
Next come the late hours of night (or, more accurately, the wee hours of the morning). Being a borderline insomniac means that the best time to sort through love affairs is when the rest of the world is snuggled in bed and my mind is still up and buzzing with light. This part, where the poem actually forms, is traditionally romantic. If that one line is my soul mate, the verses and the format and the rhyme scheme and the beat are like the wedding day and the honeymoon and the house and the kids. When you love someone, it's the someone who matters, and everything else is just part of a sweet-package deal. It's the same with a poem. It's really that one line that holds the magic spark....all the details fall in place around it. It's kind of like building a home, really.
...and there you have it. That's how I write my poems. Funny- seems that I will either faithfully adore a poem forever, or dramatically scorn the day I ever met it and pretend we never had a fling; and I'll admit, it always seems rather unpredictable as to which route I'll adopt on any given day.
Below you'll find a short creation from the early hours of this morning. I wonder...can you find the line that pursued me all day?
Under covers of dim yellow and after
several minutes on the porch, I realized
that I was holding my breath
but letting it go hurt.
It's easy to imagine the pink-ness of my
lungs stretching fingers, aching for you
back in my life, you to make it easier
to live again in places
with microwaves and fast internet.
sun drips down with the rain
from the ferns as I feel myself
leaking out love. small puddles.
all night I watched the dark ceiling -
your eyes and their deep blackness
and because you are too young
and they should be shining.
So then I have the line. The rest of the day is spent in it's company. I play it again and again and again in my mind like a record until I know it inside and out. I hold it up to myself like a dress and wonder what types of accessories go along with it. I hum it inside my brain like repeating a mantra. I imagine it swimming free in the ocean at sunset. I imagine it stuck in the house all day. I let it eat dinner with me. I take it for a walk around old town. I let it wear me like a costume so I can see the world from it's eyes.
Next come the late hours of night (or, more accurately, the wee hours of the morning). Being a borderline insomniac means that the best time to sort through love affairs is when the rest of the world is snuggled in bed and my mind is still up and buzzing with light. This part, where the poem actually forms, is traditionally romantic. If that one line is my soul mate, the verses and the format and the rhyme scheme and the beat are like the wedding day and the honeymoon and the house and the kids. When you love someone, it's the someone who matters, and everything else is just part of a sweet-package deal. It's the same with a poem. It's really that one line that holds the magic spark....all the details fall in place around it. It's kind of like building a home, really.
...and there you have it. That's how I write my poems. Funny- seems that I will either faithfully adore a poem forever, or dramatically scorn the day I ever met it and pretend we never had a fling; and I'll admit, it always seems rather unpredictable as to which route I'll adopt on any given day.
Below you'll find a short creation from the early hours of this morning. I wonder...can you find the line that pursued me all day?
Under covers of dim yellow and after
several minutes on the porch, I realized
that I was holding my breath
but letting it go hurt.
It's easy to imagine the pink-ness of my
lungs stretching fingers, aching for you
back in my life, you to make it easier
to live again in places
with microwaves and fast internet.
sun drips down with the rain
from the ferns as I feel myself
leaking out love. small puddles.
all night I watched the dark ceiling -
your eyes and their deep blackness
and because you are too young
and they should be shining.
"I want you to know me"
The prophet Hosea delivers God's message of persistent love to an unfaithful Israel. The 14 chapters of this book of the bible are heartbreaking - not just because of Israel's rebellion against the Lord, not just because they do not know what they are missing, or what blessings they have already been given, or because they are seeking life elsewhere. What brought a sharp pain to my chest and tears to my eyes today was realizing the pain of a Father who aches for His people.
He is heartbroken for us.
The beginning of Hosea tells the story of Gomer, the prostitute God tells Hosea to marry (anyone who's read Redeeming Love should be well versed in this passage). It's an incredible look at the way the Father loves. He loves when we are sinful (which we are, always), when we refuse to acknowledge Him (which we do, daily), and when we don't deserve it (which we don't, ever). He loves us even though we hurt Him, again and again and again. His love is tender and persistent. Perhaps my favorite part of this story comes in 2:14, when God says "But then I will win her back once again, I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there."
Do you realize that the Lord is chasing you into the desert? Do you understand what that means? Do you know that in this instant, you are being pursued by the most intimate, incredible, VICTORIOUS, everlasting love? Can you fathom that? Can you soak that up and be alright with it? I can't. I can't get over that. I can't get my fill of that knowledge and I can't stop tears of gratitude when I recognize that truth. Even in my weakest, ugliest moments - no, especially in my weakest, ugliest moments, the Lord loves me and is winning me back.
There are no words to describe the joy of that.
And there are no words to describe how much I ache when I realize that I am Israel, every single day.
How often my life is characterized by a turning away. It's so easy - to look for love where the world says to find it, to put joy in what I own, to think about my appearance rather than my soul, to fill up on hate and anger and my warped ideas of justice.
It's so easy to break the heart of the one who loves me the most.
Later on in Hosea, God says "I want you to know me more than I want burnt offerings" (6:6)
Such a simple request, and yet, I struggle. I cannot even count the number of times I've gone to Him this summer in tearful prayer, asking "Lord, show me how to love these people in poverty, show me how to love my friends in high school, show me how to love my family, show me how to love other people." And do you know what the Lord's answer has been? -
"No. Let me first show you how to love me."
Like Israel, I'm in the learning process. I'm discovering what it means to faithfully and fully love the God who created me. In Hosea, God pleads with Israel to repent and turn to Him. He offers us the same thing - He asks us to stop loving the things of this world and to start loving Him. And this is not a selfish thing for Him to request. He is inviting us into the most intimate relationship through which we are filled with life given out of supreme love.
This isn't something that should become stale or old news or unremarkable. It is truly the most magnificent fact of truth in the universe - that you and I are adored beyond measure by God. I hope it brings me to my knees again and again and again. I hope I never stop asking how to accept it and how to love Him back. It's not easy....actually, I think the more accurate way to put it would be to say that it is easy, but in my human brokenness I expect it to be impossible and complex. Almost daily, I want to throw my hands up and say, "God, what do you want me to do here?"
And every time I do, my soul hears this simple reminder, this sweet, whispered reply-
"I want you to know me."
He is heartbroken for us.
The beginning of Hosea tells the story of Gomer, the prostitute God tells Hosea to marry (anyone who's read Redeeming Love should be well versed in this passage). It's an incredible look at the way the Father loves. He loves when we are sinful (which we are, always), when we refuse to acknowledge Him (which we do, daily), and when we don't deserve it (which we don't, ever). He loves us even though we hurt Him, again and again and again. His love is tender and persistent. Perhaps my favorite part of this story comes in 2:14, when God says "But then I will win her back once again, I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there."
Do you realize that the Lord is chasing you into the desert? Do you understand what that means? Do you know that in this instant, you are being pursued by the most intimate, incredible, VICTORIOUS, everlasting love? Can you fathom that? Can you soak that up and be alright with it? I can't. I can't get over that. I can't get my fill of that knowledge and I can't stop tears of gratitude when I recognize that truth. Even in my weakest, ugliest moments - no, especially in my weakest, ugliest moments, the Lord loves me and is winning me back.
There are no words to describe the joy of that.
And there are no words to describe how much I ache when I realize that I am Israel, every single day.
How often my life is characterized by a turning away. It's so easy - to look for love where the world says to find it, to put joy in what I own, to think about my appearance rather than my soul, to fill up on hate and anger and my warped ideas of justice.
It's so easy to break the heart of the one who loves me the most.
Later on in Hosea, God says "I want you to know me more than I want burnt offerings" (6:6)
Such a simple request, and yet, I struggle. I cannot even count the number of times I've gone to Him this summer in tearful prayer, asking "Lord, show me how to love these people in poverty, show me how to love my friends in high school, show me how to love my family, show me how to love other people." And do you know what the Lord's answer has been? -
"No. Let me first show you how to love me."
Like Israel, I'm in the learning process. I'm discovering what it means to faithfully and fully love the God who created me. In Hosea, God pleads with Israel to repent and turn to Him. He offers us the same thing - He asks us to stop loving the things of this world and to start loving Him. And this is not a selfish thing for Him to request. He is inviting us into the most intimate relationship through which we are filled with life given out of supreme love.
This isn't something that should become stale or old news or unremarkable. It is truly the most magnificent fact of truth in the universe - that you and I are adored beyond measure by God. I hope it brings me to my knees again and again and again. I hope I never stop asking how to accept it and how to love Him back. It's not easy....actually, I think the more accurate way to put it would be to say that it is easy, but in my human brokenness I expect it to be impossible and complex. Almost daily, I want to throw my hands up and say, "God, what do you want me to do here?"
And every time I do, my soul hears this simple reminder, this sweet, whispered reply-
"I want you to know me."
