A volatile day.
Walking to the DTH this morning, crossing the street, my driving mocs soft on the pavement, I was thinking, “thy mercy my God is the theme of my song, the joy of my heart and the boast of my tongue.” As Rachel so perfectly says about this weather, “just breathing is worship.”
I love getting to that point in a friendship where you can be totally uninteresting, not supplying any conversation, and just sit and be content. Cat Klaw and I have reached that point. Catherine comes to our room and rolls around on our carpet as our three lamps provide some quiet light. Sometimes I play guitar. Sometimes we eat. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we don’t. Whatever happens is okay. I am especially grateful for this phenomenon of friendship in my life.
I talked to Paul on the phone for about half an hour today. I asked him how he was and he said, “I’m standing on my balcony and the sun is shining and the leaves are blowing and it’s heaven. I’m happy. I almost expect a seagull to fly by.” We talked about his recent job—juggling on a cruise ship (“The cruise line was mostly senior citizens,” he said, “and so by the time we returned to Vancouver, half of the ship had died of natural causes.”)—and his eagerness to succeed. “I’m a slave to the whims of celebrity,” he merrily confessed. We talked about the Alaskan landscape and love won and lost and the faithfulness of God. Paul can always draw some laughter out of me; it is always good to talk with him.
Sometimes self-sufficiency anchors you to despair. It’s a strange pairing, but today it seems true.
Really interesting article I read yesterday on Boundless: “Becoming a Godly Woman.” This is something that’s been a recent topic of conversation among myself and my girlfriends and so I was particularly curious when I found this. (I especially like the point about wisdom in Watters’s response.) I am relieved to know—and to convince myself from the portraits in scripture—that a godly woman is not a meek, pot-scrubbing doormat.
Listening to: “Ghost” by Indigo Girls; “Tables and Chairs” by Andrew Bird
Reading: To the Lighthouse (Woolf), Wuthering Heights (Bronte), and Reading Like a Writer (Prose).
"I write to you, dear children, because your sins have been forgiven on account of his name." 1 John 2:12