Shoreline Park Prayer Meeting

Tonight we took a field trip during prayer meeting down to a park near to the Berkeley Boys' house. At said park, we separated for about thirty minutes for our own personal reflection and prayer time to lift up the needs of the church body. I always love Shoreline prayer meetings because they allow me time to spend in prayer while providing the most fabulous fellowship time, like, ever. This evening, of course, was no exception. Though we didn't spend as much time discussing our prayer requests with each other, I really enjoyed getting some alone time with God. Life gets hectic, and I'll admit that I'm not so fabulous when it comes to setting aside generous chunks of time with the Lord.

Despite my shortcomings, God really showed up tonight to teach me a few things. Even though I had been no where near faithful about coming before the Lord this week, I'm convinced that He has a few words to whisper into my ear. Here's how it all went down.

I definately love nature. So I really enjoyed getting to lean on the trees and play with the flowers and listen to the creek flowing in this little park. It was also a really interesting juxtaposition to the city street, accompanying noise and slightly scary homeless. Lots of creation to observe there on Wilshire.

In light of recent unmentionable life issues, I started thinking about love languages. This dude named Gary Chapman wrote a book about love languages that I recently read, even though I've known about the concept for years now. Basically, he suggests that people understand and show love in different ways, which he categorizes as the five major love languages: quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. He suggests that many relationships struggle because the partners, in a sense, speak different languages to each other. What may communicate love to one party, may not reach the other, which in turn causes that person to feel unloved since no one speaks to him in his own language. I think that serves as a decent explanation of the concept, but it's kind of late, so if this section makes no sense, I'm sorry. I will spell check this post at least...

Anyways, I am a total physical touch person. I love to be hugged (not awkward side or static-pat-on-the-back hugs). I bite. I pounce. I wrestle. This says love to me. If you are one of the privileged few whose appendage contains a dental imprint clear enough to identify me on CSI, know that you are sincerely loved.

All my life, being fluent in physical-love has made certain situations difficult. Think Junior High when the Youth Group thing to do was to avoid touching or looking at boys. Hugs matter a lot to me, so being taught that they are somehow wrong made it difficult for me to feel loved by guy friends. It's also a huge bummer that I can't just curl up with God when I'm sad. I started thinking about this tonight....and with every other love language, God seems able to speak clearly to people. But He never touches me. Think about this...if you are most loved by affirmations, reading what God says about you in the Bible can be a really encouraging reminder that He definately loves you. If you feel most loved when someone spends quality time with you, it's easy to set aside quality time with God. Gifts? Just count your blessings. Service? Think of all the things God has arranged in your life--those "coincidences" that have allowed you wonderful opportunities. But who has gotten to tackle God? Who gets to sit in His lap? I started to wonder...This totally can't be fair! God loves all the other language groups--why doesn't he love me in the way that I was created to feel most loved?

I moved on from this topic and tried again to focus on praying for the church and the specific needs of our members. As we wrapped up, I off-handedly commented that I had spent the entire time touching everything I saw: the tree bark and branches, the rocks, and the flowers. what can I say? I'm tactile.

It hit me mid-group-prayer. God let me touch everything in His creation. I was inadvertantly touching Him.

How amazing is it that God can and will speak to each of us in a language we understand. If we are willing to keep our eyes open, we will begin to notice God's overwhelming love in all sorts of weird places. He's around whether we see Him or not, and He longs to love us in a unique and special way. He knows our slang, our inside jokes...everything that makes our speech patterns our own.

Subconscious Conclusion

Verdict: Aforementioned boy belongs in the same category as the other vomit-inducers. Thank you Subconscious for the early warning.

Done and Done.

My subconscious is making me crazy!!

What does it mean if you have dreams about a boy you currently like where the two of you are together, but then somewhere along the line he morphs into some guy from your past?

There are a couple more key details:
* These past guys are the kinds of um..."experiences" that you would like to forget ever happened. Like...when someone brings up the names of these guys, it tends to induce vomiting..
* Said "boy" in question (who shall remain nameless) is one of those extremely confusing types that you kind of want to like but you won't let yourself because you don't want to get too excited just in case he's a total tool and never calls. You know the ones.

Input and analysis are much appreciated.

Yup...still awake...but more profound this time and angry for an actually legitimate reason...

Everyone needs to arrange 35 minutes of time to check out Colmery's Water and Wine sermon at www.shorelinewest.org (from June 5) He discusses how Jesus' first miracle was at a party. When the alcohol ran out and the party started to suck, Jesus saved the day with barrels of awesome merlot. Imagine what that would have looked like on the Row today...

Awesome perspective on how Jesus was a fun guy--not some lame-o stereotype like so many Christians are today. People wanted to be around this guy. Why do we whitewash Christ? He wasn't a cheesy Ned Flanders type, but a true, authentic, cool guy. True, He did not sin. I'm not saying He was shady by any stretch of the imagination...progressive, but not shady. He got invited to parties. He hung around with some crazy ghetto thugs and doped-up prostitutes. I just wish that more Christians today could chill out a bit. Instead of working so hard at self-purification (though good) we should just enjoy the abundant life God has blessed us with. Share. Love. When our concern shifts from do-gooding to loving God and others, the holiness thing will fall into place. If we are all supposed to ask what Jesus would do and then live accordingly, we ought to take a realistic look at what Jesus did. He had fun.

Alas, a soapbox for me... Lest I continue in pointless ranting, I shall sum up with this:

Christians, pull that stick out of where you know it doesn't belong. Enjoy the party.

Late Night Nothings

It's 4:55 AM.

I may have slept for a total of 30 minutes at one time. This has been happening for the last three nights. I wish I could say that I'm up thinking about insightful things or something, but really I'm just awake checking the clock, groaning, and angrily changing positions. I suppose there are a lot of things going on in my life right now. I'm here in LA working for the summer--first summer away from home (Mere avoids a cheesy comment about being a "big girl" now), planning and leading a mission trip to Germany, and trying to keep up with friends. Honestly, it's been absolutely amazing. I really enjoy having a work schedule instead of a bunch of classes to attend, books to read, and essays to write. I'm even working on an art project currently, and I've got several other little projects in line once this one is done. Really, I have no room for complaints.

Except I can't sleep. And this is irritating. Really that's all I have to post. Apparently I'm pretty boring late at night. No insight. Time to check the clock again and be pissed off.

5:02

...rolling over...

I guess I could get up in a couple of hours. Thank goodness my computer is back home or this really would be unbearable.

Ok. I'm done.

Freak Yoga Accident and Computerless Adventures

So all of my faithful followers who are going through separation anxiety because I haven't written in so long--be of good cheer! Sadly, I have been out of commission lately due to a quite unfortunate set of events which I shall henceforth relate...

I would like to blame fashion magazines. Alas, giving pre-teens eating disorders is not their only sin. These unfortunate bits of destroyed forest are infamous for relating the latest workout advice. "Six Steps to Sexy Abs" or "Get Angelina's Lips with Three Moves You Can Do in Your Car!" You get my drift. So being the avid workout fiend I am, I opted to try some new yoga poses that guaranteed to give me Jen's arms (you can check them out next time you see me ;) Like any ol' yoga session, I put on some chill music in my room and began all the breathing and centering, third eye whatnot. I wish I could really describe the complications of this pose with adequate detail...I suppose I could take some step-by-step photos but I'm wearing a dress and I don't want to change. Anyways...just trust me when I say it was difficult. So mid Downward Dog Flip Over Action, I managed, despite my excellent sense of balance and grace, to fall over...into my desk...and kick over my water bottle...onto the keyboard.

This all happened at the beginning of June. Gateway told me on the phone that they would return my baby in 7-10 days. 20 days later, she comes home.

Finally.

I thought I was going to cry this morning when I walked in to find the box on my table. Ahh...welcome home Athena :)