squished
if you're looking for an explanation... there isn't one, really.
it's a stuffed lion squished into a jar.
only one of many poses.
i love it.
only one of many poses.
i love it.
[i blame the sleep deprivation].
silent
it's 7am. i'm back on site for our self-imposed 36-hour movie filming. it's quiet. everyone who stayed must still be asleep. i should go make coffee but i never quite get the ratios right with the drip coffeemakers anymore. i'm used to the quiet, but it's a little odd when you know there are people around. i hear a car pulling into the drive. the house is beginning to stir. i'm off.
punny
i'm surprised i've never used the phrase "midwife crisis" any earlier than three hours ago.
obligation
tiff: i need to call chris.
me: okay, i'll be on the computer.
tiff: [excitedly] oh! are you going to blog?
me: um... no?
tiff: [sadly] ...oh.
me: uh. did you want me to blog?
tiff: [excitedly] yes! i want you to blog something while i'm here!
me: oh. well... okay.
almost
tiff should be arriving... soon.
waitingwaitingwaiting
bwahaha
an internet search that recently brought someone to unleashed:
mdog has taken over my phone
be afraid.
be very afraid.
entoptic phenomena
i think these are wonderful.
honesty
i was only sort of half aware that the small group i signed up for was on prayer. mostly i was just down with the leaders, the schedule, and the location. the actual topic was merely an afterthought. if i'd thought it through, i likely wouldn't have put my name down for anything at all, and would have considered my creative team meeting as a small group [which certainly would not have been a bad option].
judging by the obligatory pregame email, the "small" group wasn't looking so small. talking with a friend over lunch last wednesday, i speculated that "only 25% will end up coming tonight." she disagreed, or, at least, was surprised. imagine my surprise when almost EVERYONE on the list showed up. one woman arrived who was not on the list, and much to my dismay, one boy who WAS on the list did not arrive. [confession: the possibility of meeting this mystery man was actually a substantial portion of my motivation to drag myself out of my apartment to this small group].
at this point, i considered the obvious likelihood that God does not want me to meet any new men, ever, during the course of my daily existence and normal routine. i felt somewhat tempted to head for donkey and wallow in a cup of coffee. of course, i made the rational decision to munch on a chocolate chip cookie bar and head upstairs for a study i expected to hate.
much like the 20/30 group of yore, this was more of a crowd than a small group... twenty people by the time the dust settled. with the exception of one couple, i "knew" everyone in the room. we started off by going around the room for introductions, and one of the questions to answer was, "why did you join this group?" when this was announced, i inwardly rolled my eyes and began hating life, expecting lots of flowery answers of people just gushing about how much they looooove prayer and want to do it aaaaall the time.
as it turned out, the first person to speak offered the answer, "i am here because i can't pray anymore." hmmmmm. this could be different than i expected. the next answer given was along the lines of, "my prayer life is nowhere near where i want it to be." ahhh, candor. i was near the tail end of the introductions, which of course gave me plenty of time to come up with a smartass answer.
"well, i'm here because my prayer life is just amazing, and i wanted to, you know, impart my knowledge upon all of you, because something this good, it just... it has to be shared..." thankfully, everyone laughed, and i admitted, "yeah, that's a big load of crap." more laughter. i paused, staring at the floor, gathering my thoughts and contemplating just how candid i actually wanted to be. i looked up and glanced around. "if you want the honest answer..." i trailed off.
"the honest answer is, i don't like prayer."
silence.
i continued. "i mean, i like prayer. in theory. i believe it works. i believe we are called to pray. but i don't like it. i'm not good at it. and praying out loud? don't even get me started. i really hate that.
so, yeah. i don't like prayer. but i want to. there's my honest answer."
later, we split into two groups for, well... prayer. duh. and instead of falling into the "usual" unspoken routine, we discussed options -- um, lots and lots of options -- for prayer request time. i was annoyed at first with how overly analytical we were all getting, but i quickly began to appreciate this little group and our collective willingness to shake things up somewhat. and i realized by the end of the evening that i was possibly looking forward to coming back next week. omg.
over the course of the evening i shared some things that i'd always sort of felt, but never [or rarely] ever said out loud. like, i hate when people say things like, "well, i guess no one wants to talk to God" in a guilt-inducing tone after a particularly long pause in prayer or something... seriously, wtf. half the time i don't even have words inside my head for what i'm praying, much less the ability to come up with something audible that is actually coherent enough for other people to understand. we talk about how prayer is listening to God as much as it is speaking to Him, but apparently that only applies when the silence isn't freaking people out collectively.
i think i had a lot more to say but it's late and i can't think straight and this post is already about six days overdue. feel free to add any other candid thoughts and conversation.