Thanksgiving

This year has been one of the best ever. I know I've said that before, but I mean it. I think it's a combination of my feeling good coupled with true seasons that have played out so wonderfully, this year. Every season has lived to its fullest and I cannot remember a year when that happened all the way through, from winter, to spring, to summer, to fall. Let's hope this winter rings true as well.

I am thankful for so many things in this life. Things I cannot express in words and things that make my heart tingle, with just a sheer thought. Many things we take for granted are a few that come to mind: health, vision, mobility, warmth, food. We are a blessed nation, a blessed state, a blessed region, a blessed city, indeed. And we could survive without most things we have.

As we head in to Christmas, and as I come to the reality that yet another year has gone by, and I will be another number older, I want less things and more relationships. I want more relationships with my family, with my friends, and with people who don't know Jesus. I want more memories and less toys, more talks and less gifts. More love and less bickering. All these, I dream.

Coffee Warms the Heart

A good friend of mine and I gathered around a small Starbucks table lasnight and talked for several hours. "You look good!" she said. "No, you look good!" I echoed back. It was one of "those" types of precursors to our conversation that signified a long absence prior to our reconnection lastnight. She's an old friend from high school and I don't really see her or talk to her all that much. I cheerlead-ed with her way back in middle school and we went to church on several occasions together. She's probably one of the most pure and honest people I know in the way of their walk as a Christian in this life, and we haven't kept in touch as much as I'd like to. She loves-loves-loves to chat too, and is really just a big ball of energy.

A large part of our talk was focused on the topic of friends, for no apparent reason other than that's where the conversation led--what made a friend, who our friends really were, and how to be a good friend. It seemed that we both have had a lot of, not necessarily trouble, but struggles, in that area. The common identifier, though, was that we realized we both wanted to be a good friend to others, and that we also desired good friends in our lives. It was a pretty good conversation and one that I would love to have with anyone - any, "friend."

As we talked, I wondered how many secrets the walls of Starbucks knew. Millions upon trillions I'm sure. And it has probably heard more shocking one-liners than we could ever imagine, like "Oh, by the way, I'm a transvestite, and I just thought you should know...[in STARBUCKS!]." Or, I'm getting my third nipple removed. I would like you to be there when it happens." I can only imagine. Those are the funny ones (or perhaps sadly comedic). But then I'm sure there are also those "real" talks like telling someone your son is gay or that you are getting divorced or telling someone that you are really worried about their safety and well-being. Those are the ones that tend to require a double espresso instead of a regular coffee.

Why do we always think we need to take someone to Starbucks, or any coffee joint, to discuss our inmost thoughts? Could it be any more public of a place to discuss them? I guess there is something about the smell of coffee that just brings familiarity, comfort, and ease to our pain in the midst of suffering--and on the flip side, joy and gladness amongst our laughs. Drinking coffee at a coffee shop makes it all the more bearable to deal with our problems in the tough times and all the more enjoyable in the good times.

And to that end I say, bring on the extra dollup!

Twilight and a Fire Pit

It's about that time of year again--when it's cold outside and we are wearing sweatpants and hoodies to bed and our wardrobe has flipped from tanks to turtlenecks. When we can't feel our toes and our wood floors are making more creaky noises than usual. When piles of leaves begin forming on our front yard hill and the oven wafts of home baked goods, nestling hearts with warmth.

We've been having a great fall, so far, and great weather to accompany it, of course. I don't know about you, but we've have some some serious frost on our car windows, too, this season. A good scraper comes in handy on those mornings. Our condo windows have been open the majority of autumn as well, and time has only gone by fast because we've been having fun.

Carrie bought a fire pit today. Needless to say, neither of us knew how to start a fire. You really don't even want to know all the things we tried to do to ignite one, but gathering sticks and crumpling up old magazines were two of them. It seemed to work for a minute, but would dwindle out time and time again and we had to rekindle every few seconds. Phillip ended up coming over after a while and got it going how a fire is supposed to look because ours was a pitiful sight. He broke sticks to keep it going while our three-way conversation spiraled into a topic on frolicking in the meadows. Don't ask.

It really was the perfect night for our Twilight rendezvous. The other day, Carrie randomly said she wanted to see the saga, which to my suprise, I never would have guessed in a million years. Oh, how she does suprise me from time to time.

When I got home tonight I was actually thinking how Edward and Bella's relationship somewhat resemebles the relationship between us and our Father. I know what you're thinking: "a vampire and a lover? Uh, yeah Melissa." But, hear me out. Edward wants to keep Bella safe, always, no matter what. He loves her more than he has ever loved anything. The love goes so deep, so far, that it has no boundaries. He would do anything for her.

There are, of course, some obvious things that do NOT make this comparison reliable, like the fact that Edward cannot read Bella's mind, and God can of course read ours. But, in a general sort of sense, the former is true. God would give anything for us to love Him half as much as He loves us. And what's more, His love has no boundaries. In His arms, we find safety. Consistent safety.

We always text eachother with a sad smiley face when a good night ends, Carrie and me. So tonight I say, :(, until another good night like this comes again soon.

Work.

Today is another day, another dollar, where we Americans go to work and paper-push and finger-type until our heads fall off and nearly expolode after we cannot take the drama any longer.

All around America people are checking their email and prepping for meetings and watching the clock tick wondering why it is going SO slow, especially now that the time change has ocurred and it starts to get dark beginning at 3:30. The mundane Monday has begun in the working world where we sink back into the reality of the 7AM rise.

Bloggers, writers, designers, and editors, sink their teeth into new feed from weekend media blasts and tackle story after photo after Tweet. They devour the chance to lay their hand on another fresh piece of news and make it public, in a fancy schmancy twist.

Presenters travel to new cities giving speeches at conferences while coveting new pin-striped suits in bustling markets with window shops. Their job is to teach, persuade, convince, instill, and inspire. And they perhaps may just do that by their sheer looks and swagger alone.

Consultants are giving advice on various topics to clients about strategies and how to obtain results. And in a hurry, messages become fabricated at the last minute and old data is used to recreate new information.

Fashionistas are designing new clothes for runway models in the hopes of catching the eye of prestigous magazine owners as they shop for new patterns for their patchworks.

Teachers are executing tiresome lesson plans and grading quizzes, while university professors are dealing with absentee students. Buses are en route to various neighborhoods picking up children while others are passing by their normal avenues without a stop for those running late. Little do these kids know, they'll be walking to school on this brisk Monday morning. "Uphill, both ways, with no shoes."

Bakers are preparing cakes and treats for parties and weddings, while local restaurants are firing up their grills for afternoon visits from business executives.

Project Managers are creating and changing timelines and dealing with unhappy and angry clients. Conference calls are being scheduled and scoping meetings are identifying pertinent deliverables for clients to further manipulate and alter, and then change back and reschedule again. Resources are being exhausted and client service people are being stretched scarecely thin.

Today is another day in the working world in cities that never sleep. And tonight, we will go home, try to relax, prop our feet up on the couch, watch our favorite TV show, and repeat the process again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.

Eternally, we are bound to work. It makes the world go-round and gives us that green stuff we need to pay our bills. Or rather, the plastic stuff. We must learn ever so eagerly how to not consume our minds with the evil nature consumption brings. For too much of anything can be bad.

God is love.

How gently He whispers and calls us back to Him by name even when we have failed.

A little girl at Target nearly ran out into the street, away from her mother, trying to venture out on her own. Her mother, irritated, pulled her back into her realm of safety by tugging on her shirt. And the little girl moved back into her mother's grasp where she was back, safe and sound.

God loves us. So much. And I believe He treats us just like that little girl was treated by her mother. The only difference is that He does not get irritated. Even when we fail a million times and disobey Him one countless moment after the next, He never stops desiring to pull us back in to His reigns to protect us, and shield us from the many further bad mistakes we would otherwise make on our own.

His love never fails. It is righteous, uplifiting, unending, relentless. It is fail-proof. Yet we resist it, we resist Him, over and over and over again. Why? Often when we pull loose from the grip of His touch, He lets us go so that we can realize through our own mistakes and failures, that we cannot survive it alone. And then there He is, pulling us right back in to where we belong again, time after time after time again. He loves doing that. He takes pride and joy in it.

His love is powerful. It can consume us and overwhelm us, if we let it.

His love is not dependent on our actions, it is dependent on His grace. It is not given, or received, because of something good we did or a certain way we felt. It is endless, timeless, and available for the taking whenever we need it.

As Margaret Feinberg said in church today, love does not travel alone, either. It has friends: joy, grace, peace, etc. And when we begin to let love in, it's friends follow it and replace things like fear, anger, and control.

His love is free. And it is far better than the love we can find and receive anywhere else. Celebrate His love today - be redeemed, renewed, and revived knowing that He loves you. And He will always love you.

Let us all live through His love by knowing how great it is. How vast it is. How wide it is. And that it is not dependent on what we do, but by how we chose to let it in.

Friday Night Fever

 

Ahhh…blessed Friday.

It wasn't a long week, nor was it a really busy one. We had the usual stuff going on – nothing too outlandish. I never can wait until Fridays because they’re so indulgent for me. Depending on if Isaac is working or not it usually consists of a glass of wine and a good movie.

This weekend, though, I went to the Gallery Walk with Pop. Isaac was working, and while I could have enjoyed a nice, peaceful night at home trying to find movies on HBO that we don’t have, I ventured out. I didn’t realize how many people I actually knew in Old Town!

We had a ball, Dad and I.

We keep thinking, “What can we do? How can we showcase our skills (photography)?” Not that we really have any…well Pop does, not me. I try to think I do, but in actuality they’re mediocre, at best. We are two peas in a pod.

I have always loved Old Town. And while I try to tell myself I hate Manassas, I really don’t think I do. Manassas does have its ups and downs – I’m not a big fan of the 234 area or places like Georgetown South of course, but I love-love-love Old Town and the surrounding neighborhoods. Wouldn’t mind raising a family there. Doubt if that’ll ever happen. Condo mortgage STINKS! I can always dream…

Things have been good. We got new wood floors (don’t have any pics on my PC). So nice to have no more pee stains. The floors look so regal – all shiny and cherry and whatnot. Our house is a comin’ together too.

Below are some pics I snapped of the other night when Pop and I took shots of the “Doors of Old Town” --- our latest project. A few more pics from tonight are included as well as some shots of the OHS Homecoming football game, where Isaac and I went two weeks ago with Sonny and his daughter Muriel.