May 17, 2013

wet paint.

toward the middle-end of last summer, i hit a weekend where i finally emerged from my post-boy depression and had the strongest desire to paint my entire apartment. i wanted to change everything about my life so he wouldn’t come back and get me again, and apparently that started with my walls. after a million back and forths of “please” and “no” from my landlord, she agreed to let me paint if i painted it back white at least eight weeks before my lease ended. 

okay, i said. i just like painting.

so the bathroom turned this cool blue and our kitchen became a slate gray and honestly it made a world of difference. our clinical rooms became a little cozier and i felt fantastically empowered. it gave me some creative release from the ugh. i bought a deep red for an accent wall. 

of course, we got back together shortly after that. and then it ended again. of course. i never painted the accent wall.

tonight i’m beginning to paint the walls back white. i spent a couple hours priming the kitchen, and i just kept thinking of last summer, versus now, and how much is the same and so much more is different.

we made it through the election. same job, different title. (okay, a slightly different job.) i’m still single but surprised by how much i’ve been pursued, and even more surprised about how often i go on dates. occasionally i even go on one where i may actually try, versus suffering through it. 

i’m still not over him. i’ve begun to believe that he may just be someone i’ll carry with me wherever i go. 

i’m infinitely stronger. i’m impossibly happier. i have learned so much about grace and joy and forgiveness. and about cyncism and isolation, but i already knew about those two. 

10 more weeks to learn from these old/new white walls. and then it’s onto the next adventure. because if you’ve ever tried to move in a city, you know it’s an adventure.

May 2, 2013 • 170 notes • youjustyou
May 1, 2013
I think my face encompasses everything I was feeling when I saw the time at the finish line, but mostly the look of being rained on for hours and hours. Also, the lady next to me demonstrates the popular glad trash bag look that many runners opted for. And that they somehow kept on for all of the miles. 🚮🏃☔

I think my face encompasses everything I was feeling when I saw the time at the finish line, but mostly the look of being rained on for hours and hours. Also, the lady next to me demonstrates the popular glad trash bag look that many runners opted for. And that they somehow kept on for all of the miles. 🚮🏃☔

April 21, 2013

smile. happy sunday. 

April 2, 2013 • 4 notes • fwriction
fwriction: I read the story of the wise men. The monk that wrote it called them ‘simple.’ It seemed odd, but the oldest said, ‘you would have to be simpleto run after a star.’ —Kathleen Roberts, “Compline” (photo credit)

fwriction:

I read the story of the wise men. 
The monk that wrote it

called them ‘simple.’ 
It seemed odd, but the oldest said,

‘you would have to be simple
to run after a star.’

—Kathleen Roberts, “Compline”

(photo credit)
February 24, 2013
(this isn’t mine, of course.)  all caught between our stories of how we got here & stayed. i guess i’m staying here. this surprises me most mornings. i do plan to move this summer, but to a new apartment in the city, closer to friends and work. i still don’t plan on staying here forever. just for now. my story of how i got here is one i tell often. i thought i was taking a step of faith. i was, i think, but i take a leap of faith each day in staying. it’s not so much that i’m waiting for God to show up or use me (he has and he is), it’s that the pain of being here is so great, and sitting through that … it’s both damaged my trust in christ and made it stronger. it fights my every instinct to run. run to somewhere safe. run to somewhere i am known and loved. run to somewhere with a church and christian community. a couple weeks ago, i (platonically) spent the night at a friend’s apartment, and i woke up much earlier than i would have otherwise because i wasn’t safe in my own bed, and because often in the last two years when i’ve woken up somewhere else, i had to leave as fast as possible, before anyone could find out. but i wanted to force myself to stay to practice staying (plus this was a friend). so i laid there, listening to his neighbors run up and down the stairs, waiting for his roommates to wake up so we could go get brunch. he woke up once and told me he needed just 5 more minutes of sleep. about 30 minutes later i got up and got some work from my bag and started editing one-pagers and working through some emails. when he woke back up two hours later, he made two comments. the first was that i have a complex around wasted time. second: “it must have taken you a lot of willpower not to leave.”   i think of how often i’ve run away from christ. maybe sometimes it was more like walking away, or just staying put — not really running toward him. i know he’ll chase after me sooner or later. i think he usually gives me the time to figure out how far i’ve strayed, first, so i can come back on my own. in a very active generation, and in a very transient city that prides itself on working so hard, we don’t think much about staying still. about what it means to abide. i’m working on that, and maybe you are, too.

(this isn’t mine, of course.) 

all caught between our stories of how we got here & stayed.

i guess i’m staying here. this surprises me most mornings. i do plan to move this summer, but to a new apartment in the city, closer to friends and work. i still don’t plan on staying here forever. just for now.

my story of how i got here is one i tell often. i thought i was taking a step of faith. i was, i think, but i take a leap of faith each day in staying. it’s not so much that i’m waiting for God to show up or use me (he has and he is), it’s that the pain of being here is so great, and sitting through that … it’s both damaged my trust in christ and made it stronger. it fights my every instinct to run. run to somewhere safe. run to somewhere i am known and loved. run to somewhere with a church and christian community.

a couple weeks ago, i (platonically) spent the night at a friend’s apartment, and i woke up much earlier than i would have otherwise because i wasn’t safe in my own bed, and because often in the last two years when i’ve woken up somewhere else, i had to leave as fast as possible, before anyone could find out. but i wanted to force myself to stay to practice staying (plus this was a friend). so i laid there, listening to his neighbors run up and down the stairs, waiting for his roommates to wake up so we could go get brunch. he woke up once and told me he needed just 5 more minutes of sleep. about 30 minutes later i got up and got some work from my bag and started editing one-pagers and working through some emails. when he woke back up two hours later, he made two comments. the first was that i have a complex around wasted time. second: “it must have taken you a lot of willpower not to leave.”  

i think of how often i’ve run away from christ. maybe sometimes it was more like walking away, or just staying put — not really running toward him. i know he’ll chase after me sooner or later. i think he usually gives me the time to figure out how far i’ve strayed, first, so i can come back on my own. in a very active generation, and in a very transient city that prides itself on working so hard, we don’t think much about staying still. about what it means to abide.

i’m working on that, and maybe you are, too.

February 18, 2013
Today @wallsohard & @keith_ferg & I escaped the city we love/hate (at Annapolis Harbor)

Today @wallsohard & @keith_ferg & I escaped the city we love/hate (at Annapolis Harbor)

February 1, 2013
Two and a half years later, I finally went to the new employees photo session

Two and a half years later, I finally went to the new employees photo session

January 29, 2013 • 3,352 notes • whatshouldwecallme

Trying to tackle my to-do list

whatshouldwecallme:

image

January 26, 2013

Obama’s Staff-Only Inaugural Ball Sounds Like the Best Inaugural Ball

http://www.theatlanticwire.com/politics/2013/01/obamas-staff-only-inaugural-ball-sounds-best-inaugural-ball/61301/

the inaugural ball the night before was pretty great, too, but spending time with the people in this room — knowing why all of us were in there (minus a few dates who clearly weren’t as psyched) — i can’t describe it. the people in that room have sacrificed *everything* because they so passionately believe in this country. everything! family, friends, relationships, wealth, comfort, security, jobs. because we share desire to erase inequality, help the poor, care for the sick, empower those who don’t have a voice, strengthen our communities. to invest in the future. to look out for each other. standing there with them, knowing what we did together, was a very cool moment.

our lord moves in the most mysterious of hearts, and i find it so funny sometimes how a group that is largely considered god-less can demonstrate his power and accomplish his vision better than i have ever seen from a group of christians. i have never ministered more than when i was canvassing, i have never felt more used by him than through my work. when i look at what he has accomplished through us, i am so moved. i am so grateful. i am so proud to be a democrat and a christian.

i know christ calls us to chase after him with this same zeal. i don’t know what that looks like, but i think of how much i’ve stretched myself in this past year or two, and i think it may be something like that. knocking on the doors of my neighbors and those in neighborhoods i would have never ventured into without a walk packet, sitting down to talk with the homeless, spending time with kids who don’t have many mentors in their life, giving so much time and money without thinking twice, accepting that my family and many friends will criticize what i do. i hadn’t really understood lukewarm faith until i got a small glimpse of what it looks like to live on fire. to reach out my hand not to help up not those who are like me — white, young, christian/familiar with christ, relatively well-off — but those no one is reaching out to. to just start knocking on doors.

this morning K and i were trying to decide our top inaugural moments. i think mine was the potus speech at the staff ball. thinking about making an impact that outlives me. thinking about the power of one voice. seeing the face of christ in those who may never know him. and getting to do a “fired up” chant with 15,000 friends one last time.  

January 21, 2013
my handsome date for the inaugural ball tonight #obamaisonfire #cheeseitsfordinner

my handsome date for the inaugural ball tonight #obamaisonfire #cheeseitsfordinner

January 21, 2013
In 2010, all three of us started working for ED. Three years later, I am thrilled about what we’ve done for our country and so proud of these two (the WH and central Florida both have their extreme challenges). Wouldn’t have wanted to spend today with anyone else, @keith_ferg and @wallsohard. Onto the balls! (at The United States of America)

In 2010, all three of us started working for ED. Three years later, I am thrilled about what we’ve done for our country and so proud of these two (the WH and central Florida both have their extreme challenges). Wouldn’t have wanted to spend today with anyone else, @keith_ferg and @wallsohard. Onto the balls! (at The United States of America)

January 20, 2013 • 1 note
ED ball success. #joeandtheladies

ED ball success. #joeandtheladies

December 31, 2012
Happy New Years with my favorite @allisonheiser

Happy New Years with my favorite @allisonheiser

December 30, 2012

i went to church tonight

and took communion. the last time both of those things happened? july. the first week. we fought on the sidewalk after the service and i left and sat on the bus bench and cried. it was the first time i had tried to come back after leaving, and i knew i would have to leave again. (later, sitting on the same bench, amanda told me i go into “survival mode” when i’m there, which is a good way to capture it.)

so, i did. i have been back twice for the service, and almost every week downstairs with the kids, but resto was close to ruined for me. and in a lot of ways, so was church as a whole. but i have patient pastors, and an even more patient therapist, so tonight, i made myself try a new church.

i didn’t love it, but i didn’t hate it. more importantly, for the first time in a very long time, i felt like the Spirit was there FOR ME. they began worship by talking about how they knew some of us are feeling alone right now and scared about taking next steps (fairly generic, even if it applies) and that we would be singing about Christ’s faithfulness. it was a sovereign grace church, which meant i didn’t know six of the seven songs we sang, which made me feel like i did six years ago when i first started this whole christian thing. i’m not sure what set me off — the opening, or the fact that i was getting to worship somewhere safe, or the theme, or some combination — but i choked up approx 30 seconds in to singing. no surprise.

i had tears running down my face during the last song (“walk alone,” which is an original so i need to email the music pastor for the lyrics) but there was another line from earlier that stuck with me. the song is actually not that great musically, or even lyrically overall, really, but this was touching to me. i want this to be my prayer because right now it’s not true, and i wish it was:

I will glory in my Redeemer
My life He bought, my love He owns
I have no longings for another
I’m satisfied in Him alone
I will glory in my Redeemer
His faithfulness my standing place
Though foes are mighty and rush upon me
My feet are firm, held by His grace