Wandering Heart

My mom and youngest sister came to visit me in Chicago just over a week ago.  Being from Idaho, we don't typically walk to places there.  It's too far- people (apparently) like their wide open space.  While out and about, I tried to give them landmarks they could set their eyes on so they would know how far we had left to go. My sister and I set out to pick up our Thai take-out.  As we came to an intersection, I told her the place was just past Pizza Hut.  Confused, she searched around for the Pizza Hut.  I had to tell her it was the building literally across the intersection, right in front of us.  As we laughed about how obvious it was, she told me she had been looking for the sign and not the actual building.  And I made a comment about how that could be used for a good analogy... Sometimes we look for the signs all around when the landmark is right in front of us. or even Sometimes we're searching for the sign pointing to the sight show...

I recently returned from a journey around the Ireland island.  I gathered two friends and a vehicle and ventured to cities and cliffs and beaches and pubs.  And I loved it! And I got back home and wanted to plan my next adventure! But see that's the problem.  I'm ALWAYS wanting to plan my next traveling trip.  The current or previous traveling high fuels my desire for more.  It fuels my lust for travel. A lust that will never be fulfilled. Of course, there's nothing wrong with traveling.  Naturally, I'm a huge advocate for it.  Obviously!  It broadens perceptive, introduces you to new people and places and new ways of living and thinking (among many other reasons).  Some of my most treasured experiences took place while traveling.  But the constant longing and desire for it, well, that will never be fulfilled.  Even if I were able to go everywhere and do everything, it'd never be enough.  At least, not for me. Wander...

I love words.  Especially the written word.  In formulating a thought, I find joy in crafting a phrase or searching for the exact word to communicate my whole intended meaning.  Language is fascinating with infinite possibilities by way of constructing.  It can be exacting or vague.  Designing written words to build thought upon thought, to communicate concepts or ideas or emotions brings me delight.  Some of the objects I hold in highest worth are notes containing written words for me. Recently, I have seen the power of words.  (Although, I'm perhaps always taking note of this.)  However, these words have been supplied in a context I've not ever personally experienced before.  I've seen the confusion these words have caused, the misunderstanding, the distrust, the frustration, the sadness, the anger.   Something so delightful can bring such destruction.  As with anything, used for the wrong purposes or out of wrong moti...

They say that it's the little things in life.  Here are a few that I love and a few that bring me joy. Fancy soaps in public restrooms Shared laughter Coffee Being engrossed in a wonderful story- written or told or watched Sunlight Lavendar Burning candles Conversations in cars The morning Chicago skyline  Watching the clouds interact with the light during sunrise and sunset Succulents Apples Brunch- especially brunch with unlimited coffee refills Watching the dog that's out on its walk Free items Snacks Twinkle lights in apartments high above Orchids Red wine Writing Walks Long car rides Cheese Sand between my toes Sleeping in I could continue but you'd probably stop absorbing the information (if you haven't already).   When I feel less inspired it is often because I have stopped paying attention to the world around me.  When I miss the little things, when I don't notice the simple joys, I've overloo...

I watched a video on YouTube recently titled "He Spent 40 Years Alone in the Woods, and Now Scientists Love Him | Short Film Showcase" by National Geographic (click the title if you want to watch it yourself).  As the title suggests, a man has lived in the woods alone for 40 years, during which he records and catalogs information about the snow.  Because he lives out in the middle of nowhere Colorado, he skis into the nearest town to get supplies.  There is a line at the end referring to the process of learning to ski that struck me.  He says, "Actually, learning to fall is probably the most important thing.  If you're gonna fall, sit.  It's a lot easier falling on your butt than on your face." It's not hard to figure out where this is going tonight.  Here are few of my thoughts about falling.  (And just know, I'm using falling to mean failing too.) We have to be skiing to even be able to fall.  If we are not, we will not fall but we won...

"Our stained glass means nothing without light."   It's a lyric by Sleeping at Last from the song "Sight" that has been running through my mind over and over again for weeks now.   It is a powerful image.   I have always been mesmerized by stained glass windows.  I remember sitting in my grandparents' Lutheran church as a child contemplating the scenes they depicted of Christ.  But at night without the light, they lose their spell.   In darkness, they become nothing.    In this advent season, remember the Christ who came as light of the world.  Remember our lives are nothing without this Light.  Soak in the beauty of these stained glass windows  as the light beams through.  May our lives be just as beautiful as we allow the Light to shine within and through us.