of red strings and man bikinis

If the guy who followed me around the local beach for two hours on Saturday had not been wearing an ill-fitted black patent leather Speedo and was not also copiously drunk-out-of-his-George Hamilton-tanned-mind, his rantings about Kaballah being the only true way to spiritual enlightenment may have fallen on slightly less deaf ears.

Note to guy: Love your perseverance, man. But lose the Speedo, drink less Jack, rethink the whole scary "stalker" approach to your oceanside conversion attempts (lest your next intended target be inspired to break out the mace and aim it in the general direction of your red string bracelet), and let's regroup. Under slightly less unnerving circumstances, I may have been able to actually engage with and hear you. Instead, I spent the majority of my time taking mental notes of exit strategies and attempting to see if there was a weapon hidden in that Speedo anywhere without actually making eye contact with said Speedo (since looking directly at a man~bikini, much like the sun, must be avoided entirely lest it cause blindness). The dude kind of scared the bewhoozies out of me.

Same beach, more clothes, less wine, far less of the scary hovering~following~cornering~stalking thing, and you've got a much more productive dynamic for an ensuing discussion of man's existential dilemma and God's role in healing humanity's "universal fracture from spirit".

At least I think that's what he said.

Graffiti Guilting/ Random Acts Checkpoint

Ok, all you 842 people who have visited my blog over the last week and didn't leave a comment, you are starting to give me a complex. I am thus inspired to actively solicit graffiti from my visitors to this post. The COMMENTS section has been utterly slacking and I am feeling lonely. So this post exists simply to invite each of you who treads here over the next ltitle while to just offer me a friendly greeting. A jaunty wave in the blosphere to lift me from my forlorn state of lack-of-comment-ness.

So, won't you please post a "hello, Malcom was here" (esque) acknowledgement of your visit? It doesn't even have to be spelled correctly, though brownie points and stickers may be handed out. ESPECIALLY if you also include your latest attempts and happenings in the blog challenge I issued for July: To Commit Random Acts of Beauty and Kindness. Please share your amazing stories grace-filled actions here for the world (well, my teensy corner of it) to be able to celebrate with you.

this one time, at band camp...

...my little 5 year old daughter became exposed to a lovely little dangerous virus.

And it's not band camp, it is a two week summer day camp. A divine place of summer frolicking, music, dancing, games, sports, and lots of time in the sparkling swimming pool. She has been looking forward to this for eons and it finally arrived, greeted with jumping-up-down-in-giggly-unrestrained-glee fanfare, at our house this Monday morning.

And by Friday afternoon, we are HIB exposed. When I arrived to pick up Miss Sauce (the child formerly know as La La is now "Miss Sauce". No, you didn't miss a voting session concerning her new blog nickname. I made an executive decision and am feeling a bit drunk with power) at the pool today, I am handed a lengthy letter from the camp director. The first line in particulay is comfortingly non-alarming, especially since we know the child who came down ill. She was the one playing hand in hand with my daughter all week long:

"Your child may have been exposed to Hemophilius Influenza or HIB disease while at camp. A member of her OWLS class has become ill with HIB and may have exposed your child. Children who have not been immunized have a higher chance of contracting this disease.

What are the symptoms of Hib disease?
Symptoms may include fever, lethargy, vomiting, and a stiff neck. Other symptoms depend upon the part of the body affected.

How soon after infection do symptoms appear?
Symptoms often appear less than 10 days after exposure, usually within 2 to 4 days.

When and for how long is a person able to spread Hib disease?
The contagious period varies and, unless treated, may persist for as long as the organism is present in the nose and throat, even after symptoms have disappeared.

How is Hib disease diagnosed?
Hib disease is diagnosed by isolating the bacteria from blood, spinal fluid, or other tissue.

What is the treatment for Hib disease?
Antibiotics such as ampicillin or chloramphenicol are generally used to treat serious infections. Rifampin is used to treat people who may be carrying the germ."

Does anyone know if COSTCO sells large, sterile, child-sized plastic bubbles?

Oh yeah, and also SPF 450 sunblock? That would be super helpful about now. (I know. I am complaining about the heat. Again. But maybe that's because I am becoming convinced that the sun has, perhaps, gotten lost and ventured a ltitle too close to our general neck of the woods. When the digits of the temperatures outside eclipse my tping speed w.p.m., we are in BIG trouble).

Sheesh.

Amplify The Light

I have hesitated to post about the current war between Israel and Lebanon, which has permeated much of my prayer and thoughtful moments this past few weeks, as I imagine it has for many. The human beings are dying on streets much like ours, in towns and houses and seaside villages like our own, with children just like ours, and hopes to live in peace just like we do. Those are children, men, women, entire communities losing their lives for a war they do not support, understand, or want. People are dying and being pumelled with rockets even as I write this. It makes my stomach want to turn inside out and just SCREAM with beastial ferocity.

My heart is mournful for this wanton death, for war, destruction, and the overzealoius pursuit of conquering egos and ideologies at play in these two nations whose borders contain innocent people caught in the crossfire.

I have not hesitated because I have no opinion, no thought, nothing to add, no prayer, no meaningful gesture of hope. I have hesitated because I am weary. I have hesitated because I am not sure I am willing to engage in a discussion of this present war from my decidely un-bullet-riddled vantage. I have hesitated because I want to offer something of value to those in harms' way - something of peace and love and God, who has not abandoned either Lebanon or Israel, even as they singe one another and cause such deep pain to their nations, to their people, to their future.

I have hesitated because I believe that we should speak only as it improves the silence. And because I believe that we should be circumspect in choosing to voice our positions about a war when that war is wracking up casualities hourly. Since I have no brilliant, magical solution to this current crisis, I have felt myself slipping into uneasy and conflicted silence. I find myself wanting to loudly exclaim my love for the Lebanese and Israeli people. I wish I could just lift out the heart of Lebanon and Israel and carry it to a safe, peaceful land, one where the precious children of those nations not live in fear of the reality of war in their own backyards. I want to love BOTH sides of this conflict. I reject becoming mired in the "well, Israel over-reacted", or, "Lebanon gave Hezbollah legitimacy" discourse. Though I am sure those are worthy discussions, they don't get to the heart of it, and accomplish little more than to solidfy the Us Vs. Them mentality that permeates much of the historical Middle Esatern conflict since the days Jesus walked the sands of Galilee.

On the left: Isreali children inscribing bombs to be dropped in Lebanon **** On the right: Hezbollah trainees in Labanon, some as young as 8

Instead, I've been reading and I've been calling, emailing, writing, and praying.

Reading: writings from the countries and regions in conflict - from people who are neck-deep in this particular war and those with God-inspired commentary to offer. Whoa. Talk about a revolution in thought. I want to know these people, to understand their hearts, their souls, their anguish, their need, their hope. I want to make their struggle, MY struggle. I do not want to delude myself into thinking that because we do not have bomb fragments imbedded in our homes and the peace of my family is not under seige at this very moment, that this is somehow not my war - not my concern. What is happening in Israel and Lebanon calls out to all human beings who seek after the Lord Jesus Christ to love one another. To respond in that love.

Calling, writing, and emailing: the State Department (48 minute hold time), my Congresswoman, the White House, the Red Cross, World Vision, among others - asking how I can help the people of this war. My heart is convicted and I am done being quiet. But I seek to end the silence not with words, but with actions. We can all do something. A raging waterfall begins with one tiny dewdrop of water that is joined by others. That powerful force has been known to carve rivers over solid granite. Certainly we can colletively find a way to compassionately carve rivers in the granite in Israel and Lebanon right now.

Praying: to the Lord my God who is not the only solution, but the salvation.

May God bless and keep the beloved people of both Israel and of Lebanon. May the only way to peace be CLEARLY and undeiably a God-given miracle and acknowledged as such. May His name be glorified and His will be sowed as the lasting solution to this crisis. May Christians get off our collective butts and HELP the people upon whom war is being made. May we deomstrate love, compassion, and mercy. May we focus not on the punch and punitiveness of our words, but the power of love, compassion, and meekness. May we use our spiritual gifts to their utmost and change the shape of the planet. I am convinced God is here, in the midst of this awful fighting, working to set out candles in the darkness.

Let's amplify the light.

Please join me in prayer that whose wills are not submitted to Him and who have declared open war upon one another, with the price paid by the blood and suffering of innocents, be vanquished. And that peace that passes all understanding is embraced by all people, regardless of our geographical or cultural lines. May we seek to end this war by the power of God, manifest in the hearts of his people. MAY WE BE INSPIRED TO DO SOMETHING TO TANGIBLY HELP OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS IN ISRAEL AND LEBANON.

Let's amplify the light.

Prayer for peace inscribed on the Isreal-Lebanon border

blazing hot

Does anyone know how hot the temperature has to be outside before the human body is actually in danger of melting?

No, no reason.

heat induced frivolity

It's hot outside. Again. I have been wasting ample indoors time inside rambling through all kinds of blogospheric desserts. Usually, I am not game for the "what kind of condiment are you?" internet surveys. But the heat is apparently frying my brain, because I liked this one. It managed to hit the gist of my basic personality in each of its sections. Which is kind of disconcertning in a fun sort of way.

I especially liked this part, "You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party." Yup. And usually end up on the cleaning crew afterwards.

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion: You have medium extroversion.You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party.Sometimes you are full of energy and open to new social experiences.But you also need to hibernate and enjoy your "down time." Conscientiousness: You have high conscientiousness.Intelligent and reliable, you tend to succeed in life.Most things in your life are organized and planned well.But you borderline on being a total perfectionist. Agreeableness: You have medium agreeableness.You're generally a friendly and trusting person.But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.You get along well with others, as long as they play fair. Neuroticism: You have low neuroticism.You are very emotionally stable and mentally together.Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly.Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is medium.You are generally broad minded when it come to new things.But if something crosses a moral line, there's no way you'll approve of it.You are suspicious of anything too wacky, though you do still consider creativity a virtue.

The Five Factor Personality Test

pipe down, mr. evil weatherman

Pssssst... Al Gore is secretly an evil weatherman. Pass it on.

I am kidding, of course. He is not evil. Especially now that he has forgone the facial hair.

But given that he's earned his place amidst the more hysterical frontmen of the global warming alarm and makes scary movies about the earth becoming perilously hotter by the nanosecond, I am hereby blaming the ghastly and record~setting 112 degree weather we were blessed with this weekend squarely on our Mr. Gore.

Yes, I understand that it is ridiculous to lay blame for a naturally occuring cyclical weather pattern on someone who is not plausibly culpable. But it is also ridiculous to be coping with 85 degrees of muggy humidity at midnight when one is not located on a subtropical island, or to have to peel your clothes from you simply to get up from a chair, or to awaken at 5:30 a.m. in order to water your plants at the only time of day when you don't risk a heat stroke. Given that I could fry an egg on my sunglasses as I left church this morning, it feels good to have a ready-made scapegoat for all this blazing hot suffering, doesn't it? And since the unrelenting sun started chanting Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na while cranking up the heat to the highest decibels on record, I have found myself just the slightest bit grouchy. Blame tends to compliment grouchy, especially when served with an extra large side order of perspiration. So come, let's embrace the scapegoating. Since old Al's been yacking about global warming publicly, the thermometer has skyrocketed around here. Coincidence?? Or shades of 'Field of Dreams': "If Al says it is getting hotter.... it will get hotter"?

If the latter is the case, I have a suggestion for our former Vice President: you might wanna quit making doomsday movies about the worsening wicked hot climate, dude. Because the weather seems to be listening. Or - even better - why not use your apparent powers for good and not evil? Make a film about the sudden rampant proliferation of world peace and see what happens.

As for me, I am sticking to my story (however tongue-in-cheek) that this unrepentant blast of hot air that seems to have stranded itself over us lately is

big.
fat.
his.
fault.

All 112 smoking degrees of it.

Doggone that Al Gore.

lonely open house book club

One of my occupational hazards as a Real Estate broker, especially in the current Buyer's market, is that Open Houses have disintegrated into ghost towns. Despite my best marketing efforts, there are some properties that just struggle to attract even a single prospective buyer on any given Saturday or Sunday afternoon.

Today was such a day.

There were lots of reasons - the 106 degree temperature (yikes!) among them - for the utter lack of turnout at the little townhouse in the Eucaplytus trees. Instead of despairing, my beloved clients (who, in this case, also happen to be longtime friends) set out a great assortement of reading material for me to enjoy while I waited for elusive visitors to make an appearance.

My clients know me well. They know I read voraciously, at an extremely fast pace, and that I love books with my own brand of ridiculous giddy passion. These clients have left new books for me to read each time I have held an Open House at their home. The first few weeks, I was not able to take advantage of their generously offered reading material. The last two Open Houses, though, have been so vacant and lonely that I have been able to read two complete volumes during my 2-3 hour stays.

At the last open house, the book I chose was "Let's Roll". I am not sure that it was the best idea to engage in such an emotionally saturated book while conducting an Open House at which potential buyers may appear at any moment. I was reduced to tears more than once during my reading, and had to put the book down and walk outside to get myself together a few times. The book paints the poignant and passionate life story of Flight 93 passenger Todd Beamer as told by his wife Lisa, who lost her husband and the father to her two boys on September 11, 2001 when she was 4 months pregnant with their third child, when the airplane he was riding on was hijacked and crashed into a Pennsylvania field. It was a remarkable read. Compelling and moving, it had me glued to its pages and I finished it in less than 90 minutes, including the breaks I took from the texts to wipe my eyes and clear my thoughts. Our Lord created in me an almost painfully tender heart, and reading about such a personal tradgedy by a grace-filled woman of God just broke me. And not once, but many times, I had to set the book down and walk outside to get myself together. It was a struggle for me to get through in that respect, but worth the effort entirely. I am better for reading that book.

But today's book utterly changed me. As in: the person I was when I arrived at the door of my clients' home is not the same as the person I was when I left my client's home. This book powerfully contributed to moving some mountains within me. And I am now standing on the other side in disbelief and joy that this overdue, yet personally epic journey took only one day.

Today, the Open House prospects were so gloomy that I was able to start and finish a book I have wanted to read for about a year, "Grace Based Parenting". I say "wanted to read" because I have meant to read it, been told it is a great book, and planned to read it, but for some reason - just hadn't until today. I believe that the delay in reading this book was 100% in the hands of God, who has been preparing my heart to receive the message of the text. Though I expected to receive this book warmly, I found myself unwilling to stop reading even to go to the bathroom! I actually sat in one place for 2 hours, without moving, and read it from cover to cover. I powered through the text as one who was stranded on a desert island for a week with no food or water and was just thrown a Freebirds burrito and a chilled Dr. Pepper. I devoured this book in big thirsty gulps. It fed my heart in places I did not realize I was hungry. The 2 hours I took to finish reading the book (including 4 seperate crying breaks. You'll just have to read the book to understand why it so genuinely pulls at my heartstrings: there is a story in it about a little boy at a restaurant buffet that reduced me to open weeping. And praying.) is not unusual for me-who-reads-at-lightening-speed. But what is unusual - what is amazing, actually, is that I am not satiated, not satisfied, not done with the book at all. While I took the messages to heart and invested myself wholly in understanding and embracing the concepts the author imparted, it was not just a cerebral exercise for me. It transformed my heart. Even though I read it word for word, understood it and loved it, I can't to read it over and over. In my life, it is rare that a book find deep resonance within me and compel me to read it repeatedly, immediately.

This book moved me. Reached out and shook me and ministered to me. The message of this book registered at about a 8.9 on the Richter scale in the heart of Lachen. That kind of earthquake will alter your reality fairly effectively. At the very least, even if your heart is not in the most raw, tender, and God appointed willing place that mine is to receive this information right now, the TRUTH of the teaching will rattle most of us enough to at least knock a few picures off the walls.

I got home this evening, and after everyone was settled into their beds, I paced inside my own mind. Finally I prayed and then got online to try to locate a cheap (sorry, honey - INEXPENSIVE) used copy of the book. I just want to drink from it again, be challenged as I find myself both identifying with and repulsed by some of the core elements of ineffective pseudo~Christian parenting the author attacks. I find myself yearning not to inflict my humanity onto my children but to impart Godliness INTO my children. Best to do that by teaching and emulating and offering and living GRACE, which I altogether fail to do far too often.

It is one thing to say something with your lips that is meant to come from your heart. And quite another to live something with your life that gives breath to your being and is the genesis of who you are in the Lord.

It's transforming to have a book echo back to you your own self-condemnation in some areas while championing your hearts' cry in others, and all the while intricately carving the message of redemptive grace deeper into the core of your being. Where it belongs anyway and without which... well, who are we kidding?

Reading this book and the reflective, contemplative prayer and study that followed this evening has led me closest to a peaceful resting place about LaLa's school path for next year, our friendships with other couples and families, and the persistent grapples with church and work we face (conceptually and specifically) than I have been in the whole of my life. Nothing like a failed, lonely open house to bring about an unexpected earthquake of the soul.

I can't help but meet tomorrow with a palate of thankfulness and a winged spirit. I am always most content when my insides are being sandblasted by their Creator ~ when I am aware that within me is work in progress. I am is thrilled beyond measure to be deemed worthy of God's efforts.

ode to Mulder and Scully

Tonight, for no compelling reason whatsoever, I miss the days when the X-Files was the bees knees. We were newlyweds as the show dawned. Each Thursday night meant big bowls of buttery salted popcorn, iced tumblers of Dr. Pepper and Diet Coke, and thrillingly bizarre new voyages into finding the elusive truth that IS OUT THERE.

Hawaiian lessons

Our Hawaiian vacation has produced some life lessons in my heart. Some profound, some just... found:

1.) I am small. I am really, really, teensy small. Not only in existential terms, but in actual terms. There is such big-ness to the universe. Close contact with 30-foot wingspan Manta Rays while sitting on the ocean floor, 60 feet under the surface of the water, under pitch black skies in a vast Hawaiian sea found me newly appreciating my very teensy presence in a very, very big world.

2.) When you commit to listen to people, the byproduct of that investment is that you do actually HEAR what they say. And the message they deliver does seep in to your subconscious, whether or not it is a valuable, positive, or meaningful one. Listening should have warning labels attached.

3.) Nourishing love does require some degree of action on our parts, if love is a verb we are invested in cultivating.

4.) The failure of mankind comes down to an utter failure to communicate truth through administration of love and pursuit of peace. It is a failure of ego and lack of submission. It is an endemic failure of massive proportions. But it can be stopped, wounds healed, and battle won. There is a way. One way.

5.) The people of Lebanon are my heart's prayer right now.

6.) That these islands are formed of the hottest, explosive, destructive, incredible lava formation process imaginable and then become these beautiful fonts of extraordinary abundant life is a testament to God's creative process. Fire destroys, refines, and burns - but paves the way for restorative life once its process is complete. When we are the ones under the sharpening fire, we seem to focus on the pain of the process, not the purpose for it. We rebel at refinement because it hurts. But in doing so, we miss the glory that comes after.

7.) "Burrito" does not have the same meaning at different places on the planet. In concept or execution.

8.) I become much more healthy and whole as I cease looking at the reflections of myself in the eyes of others. Rather, when I look past the reflective surface altogether and into the souls of the PEOPLE surrounding me, I find a much more fulfillment and am usually blessed by the exercise of interacting with, sharing with, and coming to cherish others I share the planet with. I already know who I am. It's not up for debate. My value is not dependent upon the opinions or whims of others, no matter how beloved they may be to my soul. People should not be valued for their reflections of who we are, but be loved for who they are. And for who God made them to be.

9.) I think one of the potential reasons vacations are so restorative is because they begin and end with such a humble experience: a long, cramped, smelly, uncomfortable, cattle car airplane ride, from which the end is cause for rejoicing.

10.) We are home. Hawaii is where God intends our family to be, in His time. This is our promised land.

Organic Faith

This book and the general trending of thought it represents is a blessing to me. Praise God I am not alone. Scuba diving with the manta rays last night in the depths of the endless Hawaiian sea brought me closer to the Lord than anything has other than being in the presence of my children. Of late, church has been, for me, a bit of seeking the organic relationship, experience, and revelation in the fast food lanes of religion. I seek to suck out the marrow. Not chew on the bone.

I am still listening and utterly ensconced in Romans. God is working. Even in the midst of the darkness, shining. My faith in Jesus Christ and is His power and purpose is, satisfyingly unwavered, even strengthened. I feel, amidst tears and rough waters, grateful to be drawing close to Him, even though there are others I love who waste no time in voicing opinions of my unconventional approach of late.

Blast it. Jesus was unconventional. He came to set us free. Well, then - let's be free.

In pursuit of that freedom...

coping without a compass

I'm grouchy.

We are sitting in our room on the glorious Hawaiian island of... well, Hawaii. And I am a grouchy. Grouchy because I am feeling suffocated, buried, incapable of meeting the demands of life, and overwhelmed. Grouchy because my heart hurts. I am sadly marinating in my own secular failures to the point where the outward poisons of the world have seeped into my soul and threaten to strangle it.

Which is really just me finally paying attention to the stress level of my life that I am Olympian-good at managing most of my days.

But not today.

And really, who are we kidding? "Managing" is just another word for coping. I cope. I cope very, very, very well. I could be the poster child for COPING. But coping does not heal or solve anything. Coping is like treading water - it delays the inevitable payment to the piper for another day. Another day when we think we might, somehow, be more capable. When we might be able to finally stop running and have gathered enough strength to finally stand up against the tides that crash over us and thrash around us, intent to drown us altogether. Coping is a stay-of-execution which is unavoidable. Mine, in some meaningful ways, caught up with me today.

Today, on vacation with my blessed husband in this glorious place, I cannot hide from the truth. It finds me even here, as business people and work related "needs" jockey for my attention and aggressively pursue their agenda and demands for my time. I am, again, made aware of and overtly burdened by the unyielding stress that presses in on me from all sides. I find myself angry at my weakness as a human being. Angry at my lack of protection and investment into what I love most. Angry that I have allowed the needs, concerns, problems, and demands of other human beings to eat away at my own life, family, health, and identity until I

just.
can't.
breathe.

I feel quite suddenly lost in a tangly dark forest. The birds have eaten the breadcrumbs marking my way back. The glittering eyes and bared fangs of the worldly wolves in the leafy darkness are closing in. I am praying for a Godly airlift, though I know His timing may not be my own. I may be meant to stay a bit longer - to slay a few longstanding dragons on the way back home. To earn some battlescars in hopes that I will not venture this far into the forest alone again.

The American Birthday & Challenge Check~In

Happy 230th birthday America! May God continue to bless the people and promise of this nation and guide our footsteps forward in His shadow.

And happy 30th birthday to my dear sister who was born on our bicentennial 4th of July ~ thirty short years ago. And whose three~year~and~counting military deployment (her husband is a Navy helicopter pilot in such exotic places as Fallujah and Kuwait) abroad is gratefully coming to a rapid end! She and her husband are coming home! And, God willing, will be gracing the shores of Texas by September 1!

Soooo..... how are you all coming with your RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS? I am giggly joyful to share my own so far:

We live in an ocean-adjacent agricutural valley where winery vineyards, strawberries, and other edible delights that thrive in our Meditteranean climate, are grown. Often throughout the day, farm workers can be seen toiling in the fields, bent over plants, dressed from head to toe in fabric and hats, to protect them from the sun. It has always seemed to me a thankless, difficult labor, and I have often driven by the endless fields on my way to the church, market, or office, and thought:

This is such a warm day.
Those people are dressed so warmly to protect themselves and working outside ALL day.
I imagine they are working for low wages.
I bet they are super thirsty.

So, on Saturday, I did something small about it.

At 11:30 a.m., 5 assorted pizzas and 10 2-liter bottles of soda from the local pizza place were delivered anonymously to the vineyard I so frequently drive past, to be given to their field laboring crew that day. I even paid in cash, so no one could ever know who the pizza pixie was.

There is a little light that shines from within me when I drive by that vineyard now. This is SO much fun!

Anyone else wish to share their stories of shining the light of random kindness into the world? The challenge continues...

creepy at costco

Costco is now selling caskets.

Located near the exit, this is their apparent but rather eerie take on the concept of an "impulse item".

I am sufficiently disturbed.