It's June.

Shut up.  No way.

It can not be June.

But it is, isn't it.

Tomorrow, my parents celebrate 30 years of marriage. WOW.  That is awesome.

And then the day after that, my wonderful g-ma turns 85.  WOW.  That is awesome, too.

And then the day after that is the last bear club for the semester.  WOW.  That is kinda sad except for that fact that it leaves more time for visitation! That is awesome.

And the day after that, my neighbors will be home and will maybe let me borrow their electric lawnmower. WOW. Electric lawnmowers are awesome.  So are neighbors.  Especially my neighbors.  Even if they didn't have an electric lawnmower AND cornhole.

And then the day after that, I am off work and Natalie is having a cook-out at her place followed by volleyball and Sabrina with Audrey Hepburn is showing at the Lucas.  WOW.  That is definitely awesome.

And then Sunday which is by definition AWESOME.  Wow.

Good week.

the dock

There is no denying it.

I am, by nature, an extrovert.  I derive energy from being around other people.  But sometimes, I need it to be just me and God and really really quiet. 

For an extended period of time. 

Now naturally, I avoid it.  Even if I set up a specific time to be alone and be still, I will usually find some way to distract myself.  Someone to talk to.  Something to make or watch.  Usually I avoid it the most when I need it the most.

This weekend, I housesat for the Coopers on Whitemarsh Island and replayed that old familiar struggle with silence and solitude.  All in all, it was a very eventful weekend and I spent relatively little of it being quiet and still, but I think that my life is so full and overflowing with fellowship that even the tiniest hint of emptiness feels like a vast chasm of time.  Miranda was out of town.  Stephanie was labor coaching.  I was alone.  Well, it was me and Puff, but she really only sought company when she sought food and the conversation left MUCH to be desired.  

I've never really isolated a physical place in life that I felt like I "met with God".  You know, like a prayer closet or a special chair.  Well, that green one of Miranda's is pretty special, and the front porch feels happy and familiar, but there is a dock that stretches from the Cooper's backyard all the way to the center of the marsh that trumps all.  When you first step on the bridge, your view is still obstructed by palms and brush, but as you move forward toward the center, you realize that you are surrounded by a vast expanse of wetland that croaks with life underneath those thin planks.  You could shout and not be heard, cry and not be embarrassed, dance and not be ridiculed.  I mean, you might lose your balance and fall in, but you would be muddy, not ridiculed.  To your left is the southwestern sky, to your right the northeast.  Sunrise, though brilliant, is second in beauty to the sunset that casts a satisfied orange glow on everything above the shadows of trees.  

As I sat there on the dock last night, waiting for my mind to slow down enough for me to listen, I began to imagine what it would be like if I really understood what it was to meet with God.  What if I looked toward the house and striding toward me on that long, thin pier was He.  Coming to meet with me! To hold me and talk to me and sing to me and listen to me.  What would I do? Say? Sing?  What would HE do?

I waited on that pier until the sky was navy and made my way back to shore.  

What did we talk about? Well, that's none of your business.

But once I reached land, I impulsively jogged back out for one last look.  I know that God is with me everywhere, that I dwell between His shoulders, that He hems me in behind and before, that He will never leave me or forsake me, but in that particular place, He reaffirmed to me what I knew in my head to be true: that He adores me outside of anything I could do or say and that He is going to work all things together for my good and that He knows better than anyone else what that good is.                

And that's the kind of thing a girl wants to remember.

month later--my bad!

Hey y'all. How's it goin'? Good? Awesome.

Notes on this week:

One of our residents who has been here quite a while is still trying to get me to stop sighing when I eat.  It evidently gets on her nerves.  But when I'm around the residents, eating is one of the only times I relax.  And I really like food.  So I think she's just going to have to deal.

Today, I went on a jog before work, and it was lovely.  I have decided that Savannah is pretty much the most beautiful city in America--nay, the world.  At least in the spring in the morning.  I love to just stare up at the sky and inhale the jasmine and marvel at the architecture and it makes me just love God so much.  And I wonder what our conversations would be like if I lived somewhere ugly.  Because it's possible.  I think I would just have to find other things in which to marvel.

I like it when people come over, but it always leaves me with a surplus of cookies, and that is dangerous.  But totally worth it.  It's not all that hard to get rid of cookies.

Yesterday, Mrs. Talley cut me a bunch of flowers from her garden and I put them in a jar at home and put them on my table and it made me feel like a grown-up.  It also made a big mess on the kitchen floor.  Which made me understand why Martha Stewart has a specific room for arranging flowers.  It's way messy, yo.  Thanks Mrs. Talley--they are so pretty!

Today at the store, I sorted through a bunch of toys and found a World Heavy Weight Championship Belt which I subsequently wore throughout the day.  It made me feel intimidating, and I think it was effective.  No one threatened me physically for the rest of the day.  I think I should wear it when I go jogging as an extra safety measure.  Hi-ya.

The same people pass in front of my house every morning at the same time.  I could set my watch by moped-girl.  It feels sometimes creepy like "The Truman Show".  Good afternoon, good evening, and good night.

Whistling is fun, but only really for the people doing it.  Everyone else just gets annoyed.

Hellen knows all the words to the "Bye, Bye Ms. American Pie" song.  That genuinely surprised me. 

The kid who slammed his hand in the van door last week at Bear Club came back this week.  What a trooper.

Little kids in a good mood will laugh at ANYTHING.

JoAnn's fabric store is really eerily quiet around 10:30 am, but the cashiers are more likely to make conversation and share crochet hints.

Wal-Mart does not carry embroidery floss.  What's that about? They do, however, carry dental floss which makes significantly LESS cool friendship bracelets.

I found a used car that has 10 miles on it, which makes me really nervous for some reason.  It's like when people donate things to the thrift store with tags on them.  Except way weirder.

I have 85 more cell phone minutes to use between Monday and Friday.  I feel like a cautionary tale from a cell phone commercial.  Like, "Look at this poor sap with not enough minutes." I've started talking really fast. 

I asked the Bear Kids if anyone had heard anything about the earthquake in China.  None had.

Tank tops are two for $10 at old navy right now.  Jump on it.

Also, you can buy a footlong at Subway for $5 and totally split it with a friend who has similar taste in veggies.

Don't forget the FunkMeister at Moes.  They raised the price by 20 cents, but it's still the best meal under $3 in the city of Savannah.

Well, that's all I know.

Night, y'all.

mel

damage control

I realize now that I used to function in the understanding that when bad things happen or I make mistakes, it is just plain bad.  Well, the more I see the character of God in everyday life, the more I realize that He really doesn't see as man sees.  Yesterday, I made two pretty big mistakes at work.  Now, on a normal day, I make alot of little mistakes and they just get covered by grace and all come out in the wash.  The big mistakes, however, can have lasting consequences.  Now around here, you can say something in a way that seems completely normal and understandable to you, and it can make someone absolutely nuts.  Lots of emotion.  Lots of drama.  Lots of confusion.  So when I make someone run out of the room crying, I have a choice.  I can throw my hands in the air in frustration and get all defensive and try to think of a way it's someone else's fault and completely alienate someone I am called to love for however long things go undiscussed.  Or, I can call on the God who made hormones and understands people better than I ever will to show me how to make it right.  It is humbling, it is draining, but it is kinda fun.  Because you get to watch God confuse your system.  Sometimes, bad morning=good relationship+amazing healing, but only when God is your wisdom and your mouth and works the miracle of reconciliation.

Yesterday was HARD.  It was intense and long and insecure.  But God is my RESCUER, her rescuer, and He can make good out of everything I mess up.

He makes all things beautiful in His time.

As soon as I "figure out" this group, another group will come in to confound me.  And I'm sure I'll do or say something incomprehensibly stupid.  And grace flows down to cover me.  He did indeed put His amazing treasure in simple jars of clay to show His surpassing greatness.  And we are bound to live stunned by what He is capable of.

mel

The masses want more

Or maybe just Jaclyn and Chris.

Today, I worked at B4 downtown again.  It was lovely.

I have taken to carrying around this book called, "If..."  It is a book full of "if" questions--some shadier than others--but they can really get you thinking.  If you could only smell one scent for the rest of your life, what would it be? Cinnamon.  If you could only keep one of your 5 senses, which would you keep? Sight. If you had to lose one of your 5 senses, which would you lose? Taste. If you had to die in one of history's famous disasters, which would you choose? Eruption of Mt. Vesuvius.

You get the idea--and each question inevitably leads to other questions and that inevitably leads to you knowing the other person better than when you started.

Now a really cool person would just memorize the questions and bust out with them randomly, but I am still learning to be cool, so I just carry the book around in my giant purse, and whenever the conversation lulls--BINGO! Out comes the book.

So maybe this can work on Xanga, too! 

Question of the week: IF you were to be known for one thing (presently or in the future), what would it be?

ooo...contemplation...

Today, I saw a familiar face peek in the window of the store.  It was an old resident!  I yelped and hopped out of my chair and flew around the counter, taking a few hangers and a rather unstable rug with me.  Poor woman told me two days after coming to the Vine that she didn't like hugs.  Somehow this slipped my mind.  I was so relieved to see her, to know she was doing alright--just to see her again, you know?  I wasn't even thinking, I was just hugging.  I think she made an exception for me and didn't run away, bless her heart. A few moments into my celebration, I regretted the drama of my reaction.  Would she be embarassed? Would the browsing customers notice or even care? Why did I have to be so crazy and hyper about it?  Why couldn't I just stand up and walk around the desk and politely, calmly, lovingly greet her? 

Then I thought of how it feels to walk that long hallway in the Houston Airport between the terminal and baggage claim, to see my Mom with arms folded to stay warm, bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation and my dad peeking around the fake trees like a little kid.  How my steps turn into skips those last couple yards until I am home in a hug that can last the whole week as far as I'm concerned.  I thought how it feels to be anticipated and welcomed and held, and I decided not to worry about what the other customers thought. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. 

I am beat.  Really beat.  I am going to go to sleep at like 8pm.  Or do my taxes.  I can't decide. 

Goodnight, fair readers.  Tell Ed and Kara and College Station that I say hello! 

mel