Invitation

Progress

This




became THIS!





(...from Vogue Knitting Winter 2006-07)

Give Me A Boost, Jesus

Shane Claiborne talks a bit about fire and brimstone. This might be the first word on hell you'd love to hear.

Unhinged

It seems to take a lot of time to live life. I think I live a writer's life without the agent and publisher with which to hang my shingle. I enter the room, with all the prayer and the best starts to begin my tasks. And what usually happens is a series of distractions and impulses that set my imagination spinning. One thing leads to something other.

I must get things done, somehow, because I'm not unproductive, but I'm not at all sure where I'm going. I try to place that into Faith and Spirit, this insecure spinning that I play. I try to be my own advacate and I tell myself supportive things, trying to keep away from perfectionism. It's hard.

What I really want to do is write down all the thoughts that seem to slip away. The desire to write feels like a storm that builds up clouds in my horizon. The atmospheric pressure mounts, I rain down a poem or a prayer and then I try to get back to my field of housekeeping or crafting. Sometimes I think I have too much time on my hands for being an unshingled author. But I have no real handle on how creative bodies of work finally come together, so I work though all of my impulses a high degree of patience.

I just keep putting it down and cutting it out and knitting it together. And then I write another poem because I can't write endings.

Check out Mark Scandrette's Soul Graffiti.

Knit Together

I have the word "rest" highlighted on my calendar. Repeated each Sunday, it seems agreeable with me.

Last weekend, I let everything go and slept on and on as the virus swept over me. I agreed with my body that I needed to rest. Sometimes it seems hokey and simplistic to go to church. My church isn't cool. It's not emerging out of anything. We mildly attempt slick and polished, the kind that's attempted by anyone with a laptop and suitable software. Our topic is usually the "Old, Old Story".

Even though I woke with a headache, leftovers of the virus, I gathered myself out of habit. It's been weirdly cold even by O.C.'s standards. Everything started out hard. I didn't get ready fast enough to eat breakfast. I arrived itchy, and cranky and impatient. I didn't feel contemplative about anything but the coffee I knew I would find in the small cloistered classroom underground.

I got my cup, ignoring how the smile I faked was not a good start, and engaged my friend Carol. Blessed Carole, one of many kind people there, who just like me, ignored every mild irratation to get to church. Her eyes got me off of thinking about my own. Her conversation, joined with others, got me off my preoccupation of me. Last week I retired. This week, I rested.

We are a strange group, I'll admit. Church people are weird. We give each other symbols like dirt. (I really got dirt from Shane - you're strangely cool, brother). We dunk each other in little indoor spas and eat dollhouse crackers to remember cosmic occurances. We suspend our disbelief in an effort to believe so much. And each week, we attempt to rest from all other normal activity. We try to knit in all we teach each other. We return to normal life, but a little weirder, a little more effected to effect change for the better.

One rest ended my illness. The other infected me with faith, hope and love.

Five Things You Don't Know About Me

Because Roy tagged me, I get to play:

1. I make the best guacamole of any anglo-saxon I know.

2. I speak Russian (badly).

3. My (favorite?) activity is knitting at the movies.

4. Madeline L'Engle is my favorite author and when I wrote her, she wrote me back. Her letter is one of my treasures. I send her a Christmas Card every year.

5. When I was little, after I woke up every morning, I would always look beside my bed for a gift received during the night. Sometimes it would happen. I think it was my mother, but since I never really knew "for sure", I always believed "today would be the day". I like waking up to a gift.

Now I tag:
Michel
Kris
Jeremy
Jeff
Robin
(my other bloggie friends have played already)

6. I don't have a lot of readers who blog...so start one, would ya!

For you

Joel, Happy Birthday!

Next

We're all interested in "what comes next" at the beginning of the year. I was able to go to the Rose Bowl with some family and we had a wonderful time. Being on the winning side helps. At my suggestion, we closed off the day with a Guiness at the Beckham Pub. Can't help having one without thinking of friends far away. I am thinking of all my friends today and really trying to take it all in. I heard news of the death of a dear lady, which has effected me deeply. It all feels so fleeting and precious. The times that I think are so "every-day" may end up meaning so much more than I ever suspected. I don't understand the heart and I don't understand love. But I need both.

I'm cleaning out the sewing room and arranging priorites. This song is going through my head and I want you to hear it. Everyone prays Wartime Prayers.

Be brave and say the prayer your heart can't quite believe. It will all add up to the greatness that we need.