A crepe day

What a weekend. I was busy enjoying a beautiful day in Charleston, SC on Saturday and then busy all day Sunday paying for the fact that I had blown off things I needed to do on Saturday.

So, here is what I have to say regarding this weekend. I live in the MOST beautiful area of the country. I know that is a big statement and is largely subjective, but I will put it to the challenge against pretty much anywhere. Saturday was fantastic with blue skies, strong wind, warm sun, and no humidity. And not only is it beautiful, but there is something for anybody to do! Sailboats filled the harbor as Charleston Race Week was in full swing. We had the East Coast Canoe & Kayak Festival creating rainbows on the water over on James Island. Serena Williams and Maria Sharapova were duking it out at the Family Circle Cup semi-finals. And where was I? Leisurely strolling through Marion Square downtown taking in the sites and sounds of the first Charleston Farmer's Market . I stood in a shockingly long line to get a crepe filled with fresh tomato, basil, mozzarella, and mushrooms. You wouldn't believe how many people are willing to wait for a ridiculous amount of time for the perfect sweet or savory french creation (supposedly the banana and nutella crepe is off the chain...that is according to the very nice girl with multiple body piercings that I bonded with as we invested some serious time together). It is fun to watch the uninformed looking around trying to figure out why ALL these people seem to be standing for some unknown reason in this long line that seems to go nowhere. It is so long you don't really see the crepe-stand at all. And all those "in the know" KNOW that it is worth every minute. So, after enjoying every heavenly bite, I picked up some local fresh tomatoes grown on Johns Island, avoided the swarming bees that had made their nest in the tree beside my parked car (maybe that is why the space was open?) and headed to Daniel Island with the intention of gussying up (yes, that is what we do here) the toes to make their first "dressed" appearance of the season. But the beautiful weather lured me to the Wando River and before I knew it I was on a long walk. I love the smell of pluff mud in the marsh and all the Spanish moss waving in the trees. And don't worry, I did finally make it to my manicure and pedicure time. I have to say, it was a good day.

The dumb duck day

While preparing dinner last night, my husband and I were listening to a CD that a friend made for me a few years ago. This friend is gifted when it comes to making what we affectionately called back in the 80's a "mixed tape." First of all, she has great taste in music! Second, she takes painstaking time selecting the right songs with the right message and placing it all in the right order. It is honestly an art form. Like a painting or a sculpture, it takes the everyday and puts it together in a way that evokes some connection with the epic. I kid you not. She is that good! This little CD is like a soundtrack for the movie of my life, roughly Chapter 34 and 35 and it is a treasure. To have someone interpret your rantings and longings and give it back to you in this form? What a gift. The first song on the CD is a tune by one of Ben's longtime friends from his Columbus, GA days, Allen Levi. The song is about the choice we have regarding how we are going to live this life. Do we settle for mediocrity or do we fight for God's best? A properly placed song, as my friend is well aware of how God has drilled me on this particular topic over the years. Long before this song was even written, we sat in rockers on a porch in North GA sharing our hearts with one another. I was so frustrated with a stagnant faith and the best picture I could come up with was this sense that I was confining myself in the shallow end of a chlorine-filled pool when I had the choice of all the adventure and mystery (and wonderful danger) of the ocean before me. Why was I settling for this compromise? This friend has watched me mourn my innate tendency to choose the lesser of the two. But how God keeps at us! And what more, I am quite confident that He is going to keep hammering on this topic even if it kills him (and it did). One of the many occasions that God chose to speak on this topic occurred with this same friend. We were heading down to Piedmont Park in downtown Atlanta, GA to enjoy a beautiful day. Piedmont Park is an oasis in the middle of concrete. As we walked down the sidewalk flanked by skyscrapers and construction, we could see the green trees and water in the not too far distance. That is when I noticed the ducks. Off to the side of us was a big muddy hole that looked a lot like my leg when I take out a divot of flesh with a cheap razor...Georgia red clay is something to see--quite dramatic. In the middle of the hole was a small island formed by pooled red water and in the middle of that small island, barley big enough for the two of them, sat the ducks. Seemingly right at home in the midst of the mud, construction, concrete, and chaos of downtown Atlanta. Are you kidding me? Within view is a proper pond...shimmering water with Weeping Willows dipping their fingers like little kids, fields of green dotted with blankets, benches with couples offering who knows what delicacies to the ducks who had figured this thing out. And here the pair of them sat, red stained on white feathers. And in that moment it was clear what God was saying yet again, "why do you insist on making your home on this island of red clay? I have come that you might have life and have it the full." I love the fact that God will just sneak up on us like that. I love the fact that He uses any means necessary to keep truth in front of us, even a couple of disillusioned ducks. "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made..." In the midst of observing this little nature scene, I was deeply convicted. How often have I exchanged God's glory for some man-made, synthetic version of that glory? How often do I worship and serve created things rather than the Creator? I know some of my reasons and God is helping me work on them. All of them are sin, even the ones that are packaged so pretty and seem so innocuous. Thankfully, my Abba Daddy wants His best for me and I am eternally grateful that He works to bring that to fruition in spite of me. We belong to an awesome God! And I am praying that I will be unmade every day as I rediscover the child in me that intrinsically recognizes and chooses God's best. "I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." (Mark 10:15 or Luke 18:17--take your pick)

Who Wants a Pool by Allen Levi

His mother said, “Let’s leave the beach,
we’re going to the swimming pool,”
It seems that she was tired of the seashore
But quick her little toddler kid
He pulled away and ran, he did
It seems there’s so much more for him to explore

He wanted sand as white as snow
He wanted thunder on his toes
He wants the waves with never ending motion
He wanted salt and foam and breeze
He ran as if to say "Mom, please... "
Who wants a pool when you can have an ocean?
Who wants a pool when you can have an ocean?

It’s oh so easy to begin
Just strip right down and dive right in
Who wants a pool, when you can have the ocean?
Who wants a pool, when you can have an ocean?

For further reflections, some great quotes, and to listen to the song, check out Songs and Stories on Allen's website.

What is that smell?

This whole blog thing is a very new concept to me. Of course I have heard about all the variations of the blogging world and read a few here and there, but I haven't really jumped into it. So, here I am at a place where my husband's urging intersects with an inner resonation and I am blogging. I just spent the better part of an hour checking out other blogs. Classic move for me--checking out how it is "supposed" to be done. And several of them leave me with blog envy. Blog envy is a first cousin to a host of other envies. Pretty much the whole family leaves you thinking that you should pack up the bags and go home. Get out of the game. How many games have I sidelined myself as a result. This reeks of Satan's handiwork. The quote "comparisons are odious" comes to mind. I have that quote linked to Madeline L'Engle in my mind, but like many things in my mind, there is no telling why the link is there. So, a bit of research and it is obvious that the phrase has been around much longer than Madeline. (Side note: I love how we do this in so many arenas--ascribe origin according to our frame of reference when it has been around for a very long time. I had NO idea that "I Will Always Love You," which I have firmly tied to Whitney Houston, was originally written and performed by Dolly Parton.) So, here is what I found on "comparisons are odious":

The earliest recorded use of this phrase appears to be by John Lydgate in his Debate between the horse, goose, and sheep, circa 1440:
"Odyous of olde been comparisonis, And of comparisonis engendyrd is haterede."
It was used by several authors later, notably Cervantes, Christopher Marlowe and John Donne.
In Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare gives Dogberry the line 'comparisons are odorous'. It seems he was using this ironically, knowing it to be a misuse of what would have been a well known phrase by 1598/99 when the play was written."

I think that about sums it up.

And so it begins...

I love to write. I love to reflect on things. I have been told, and I quite agree, that my "inner" world can sometimes be more real to me than the physical world in which I live. This works for me and against me. This is my attempted truce with my own hesitancy to invite others into this space. As I see it, the power to choose to move along with anonimity frees me from my insecurities, at least a bit. When I am honest, I want my heart to be known. And more slimply, I love the idea of a place to generally wax philosophical.