Moving on...

I have a new blog!

Lauren's thoughts have moved to: "from the perspective"

All my old posts will stay here, some of the goodies will move over but I wanted to give my thoughts a new perspective.

I hope you enjoy!

An Order for Compline

There is something about sleeping bags on a cathedral floor that makes me uneasy. Do I think it is disrespectful to be prostrate with a cushy comfort between you and a church floor? Or is the uncomfortable feeling due to the fact that strangers are more comfortable in this house than me? No matter the source of discomfort, we all come and place ourselves on a cold cement floor, opening our ears to the potential homecoming anthem. I wonder how many hours I have spent on this floor, in this spot. How much time has been spent opening and then closing my desire to listen. I try to be still- to stop and be present. I work on letting myself rest in the same unorthodox way as everyone else, prostrate on this floor.

Comfort collides with my traditional thought that there is an order to the maturity of my soul. The 14 year old that sat on this same floor is in many ways the same as this 25 year old that sits today. Always looking up at the beautiful glass walls, doors and cross- always praying in an awestruck tone. Always wishing I was on my knees rather than sitting on my ass.

landscapes

I wonder if life is just one long road trip. You can take in the landscape, let it go by in one continuous motion and hope the light, beauty and essence soaks into the deep pores of your being. But there is something in me that requires me to capture life- either through words, pictures or conversations. It is the act of capturing that breaks up the panoramic landscape and requires context for the picture before and after. An event is remembered by knowing who you were before and after. What happens in the middle frame simply becomes the transition point, anchoring the context of life.

There are moments where I allow myself to roll down the window, stick my feet out into the breeze and let the world fly by. But I have never regretted taking out my camera, my soul or desire to know and be known in order to freeze the moments that make everything before and after coherent.

recently

joy in the kitchen

recently I have been cooking more. I call these blissful moments in the kitchen "my Martha days". I am not the biggest fan of Martha Stewart but it has a good ring to it; plus it gives me the versatility of doing crafts, gardening or cooking because we all know that Martha can do anything.

Martha Days usually begin with a cup of coffee and a cookbook. I sit down and thumb through the pages, looking for a recipe that is doable but challenging. Then I grab my backpack and walk to the store- buy all the necessary ingredients and focus on enjoying the urban pleasure of walking to the store. Once I return, the music gets turned up, the chef's apron goes on and pure joy comes into my heart. It is almost as if God meets me in the kitchen. That might sound odd but I know God to be a creator, a lover of the deliciousness of life and patient beyond patient.

Recently these days have been a form of Sabbath, a resting into myself, my food and the ways around me. I feel very thankful for these moments and for the times when edible creations feed more than my hunger.

lessons from the road

I finally have started to run post marathon- that is right, 7 months after the marathon, my knee/hip is strong enough to endure 2-3 miles. Time on the road has reminded me of the sweet lessons that I learned through training.

Mile Markers-
I try not to pay attention to the mile markers. I know how far I need to run, I just want to get there. In my life there seems to be a mile marker I passed- I am in a new place, a mile or so away from where I was months ago. But I could not tell you when I passed that marker. My gaze has not been focused on the mile posts but on the long road ahead.

Hills-
My favorite runs have hills, lots and lots of hills. I am slow but I love that I instantly feel it and there is no backing down- only going up. At the base of every hill, whether it is steep and fast or rolling for miles, I say "Get it". Sounds funny but it really works. There is no hill that is too steep or long.

Pain-
Although running is a joy, it causes me pain. If I haven't been running in awhile, my lungs will hurt, if I run for more than 3 miles my knee will hurt. I usually want to push through the pain, just keep going and prove to myself that I am more powerful than my pain. But if I were to do that, I would prolong existing injuries- I would make my body weaker than stronger. So pain has become my friend. A great indicator to slow down, to listen to my body and to possibly walk.

Run often and run happy.

cpg

I am in a familiar cafe, it is not that I have regularly frequented it, but that the cook and barista treat every patron as a regular. You gain a sense of community sitting in a place like this. I have learned how important it is to sit in a place you can walk to, a place you pass by on the bus everyday. It is important to wake up early on a Saturday and read - to be among others who also find the value of closely chancing the sun. We sit at our own tables, aware of each other and what we are reading but not what we are thinking. It is the simple practice of transperency and boundaries.

It is these moments that I crave creativity that springs from a deep sense of rest. The rest that comes from a sleepy Saturday morning seems more healing than doses of medicine or herbal remedies. This is the rest we were made for. When we find this rest in our souls does it change us? Or is it just a matter of letting what is in us be exposed?

How do I feed this creativity that eats at me? How do I make a living from the fragance that is inside? For some reason I have an idea that I am not allowed to use this fragance the way it was intended. It is not how the world works yet it is how we are intended to work.

But it is this familiar cafe that allows me to be creative. It allows me to rest - as if it is a part from the world but connected to the community that pushes me along.

Where you see Grace

The "seeing Grace" really pertains to my life in the last 6 days. Seeing- sight is often a gift that is taken for granted. We function so effortlessly because we can see where we are going, the expression on someone's face and the beauty around us. These past few days I have been trying, hoping deep within, constantly second guessing that what I see has a third dimension. That there is something more there than what really is. I want to see what I do not yet understand, what is not yet intended for me to grasp.

It seems so similar to seeing Grace in my life. I have embarked on a 10 year goal to better understand Grace and practice it in my daily life. The journey had started out with a doubtful yet hopeful wonder if actualization of Grace is possible. Maybe the intent of the journey is the steps I am taking, not the final destination. Similar to my eyes and trying to gain depth perception, maybe the point is not about seeing a third dimension but about trying, about learning more than I thought possible about perception. But I continue to search for both Grace and depth in my world. I search with an innocent eagerness, like a child searching for the four leaf clover in the distant fields.

Fly High

It is a sad thing when you loose your kite on its very first flight.

To loose something you have so much hope for and so much joy is yet to be had- then it goes, off to its own beat, off to its own wind. The kites that fly higher than the rest have the greatest chance of being lost, the winds are stronger and the sky is closer. The endlessness is within reach. When I fly my kites, when I put my hopes up into the air I want them to fly higher than they could have ever imagined. I want them to have the freedom of height, to be able to dive deep and soar high. And if one day my all gets caught in the wind and leaves, at least I know it was the open sky that took them.

So what do I do when the string has snapped and my hopes and joys have gone? It used to be with tears and anger that I would go on my way, but I have begun to string up new hopes and joys- let them fly once again. Each time with a honest determination to be braver than before, to let out a little more string. There is a desire in me that for one time when I let out the string that kite will dance and soar, dive and glide with amazing grace and courage. Eventually it will fall, not out of necessity but out of desire that one day it will be let out again. The kite will come home with me, my hopes and joys will rest, not leaving my side, not breaking their string but realizing we are made for one another, made so each of us can fly.

to be known

I am learning the value of being known

Through laughter

Through tears and hugs

Through fun and sweat

Through great conversation and questions

It is good to have moments like these (I am especially thankful these moments happen in the snow and sun). It is good to be known.

Downtown Grace

I used to feel like downtown Seattle was this magical far away place. It was complicated to get to, it was expensive and you had to look nice. Now I know these are crazy things to think but it has taken me awhile to shed these thoughts and embrace what downtown really is.

I am there most hours of my week and some of my weekend. The bus is full- people checking their email, facebook or skills at a game. The flute player sometimes welcomes me with Amazing Grace. There is a cup of coffee that is $1.09 and keeps me company for 2 blocks. Truth sits with a sign and a empty hand as I pass by. The hussel and weaving in and out gives me joy instead of frustration. I have become familiar with this place, I feel a sense of place through the routine.

Last week my dad came downtown for lunch, we met at the Deli across the street and touched base. As the converstation went on and the topic became more developed and understood, I asked my dad a question that was hard to speak and I imagine harder to answer coming from his daughter: "where are you leaving room for God's grace in all of this?"

He wasn't ashamed or hurt, he simply caught his breath and said "that is something I need to think about much more"

Admist the constant honking, yelling and brushing up against passer-bys; both of us were forced to stop. We were forced to make space to breath and think where there were not wide open spaces. These types of conversations usually happen at Vashon, where we can digest the thoughts over an extended meal. but I was thankful that we had this time together, to feel this place in a new way. God is allowing me to call downtown home by showing me this is a place that I can breathe, think and love.

Destiny

It is almost inevitable that two marriage and family counselors would raise off-spring that would have a focused perspective on relationships and life. I have realized that it is not destiny for those offspring to become marriage and family counselors and marry marriage and family counselors (although my brother will become a psychologist in June and married someone who later got her Masters in Marriage and Family- so it is looking possible).

The awaken of my misunderstanding into a reality has lead to a bump in the road, a shock to my system, a career path game of bingo. It might be obvious to everyone out there that I do not have to become a marriage and family counselor. But that was not obvious to me. My parents never said "you have to do this" but my relational knowledge has continually be reinforced throughout my life. It is a career I am familiar with and think I would be good at but I don't know if my heart is in it. I was supposed to be applying to grad schools right now but instead I am doing some serious soul searching to determine what I want to study, what I want my career to look like.

I would love your thoughts and prayers. I know I don't have to decide today what the next 40 years are going to be like but prayers and thoughts never hurt!