I have read two stories this week about pink socks. The first was on a relatively new blog, My True Self, where the anonymous author chronicles her healing journey as she recovers from sexual abuse. Check out her pink sock story here and then scroll through her blog and catch up. I’ve found it to be inspiring and helpful.

The second story was from a book I’m reading with my long-distance friend Wendy, Reading Lolita in Tehran. It chronicles the journey of a group of woman in Iran who illegally form a book group to read things like The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, and the more inflamatory Lolita. Azar Nafisi tells this tale of a pink sock:

Manna had … {read more…}

I find myself flat on my back a lot lately. This morning, after my walk, I lay on top of my bed and tried to focus on centering prayer. When Eden came to cuddle next to me I felt like God had pulled a big fleece blanket over us both. In an uncustomary pique of placidness, Eden just curled up next to me, silent, and closed her eyes.

Later I went to walk the labyrinth for the first time in a long time. In spite of the tent city in the parking lot, St. Mark’s is very still, very muffled. Somehow the noise of the city does not penetrate her tall cold walls. Usually I walk the lab … {read more…}

I don’t know what happened, but today, at least for today, I so do not care about the emerging church. I mean, I do care. I care that my friends are trying to figure out how to live their religious lives in a way that makes sense in their post modern culture. I’m glad they are expanding their ideas about worship and prayer and learning. I’m happy to throw in my two cents about how they might do that — offer up somethings we have done at ThPM, in the church and in the home, that have helped us get somewhere on that front. But when it comes to debating church structure; figuring out if team leadership is do-able; discussing … {read more…}

All the random stuff I can think of in ten minutes:

-I think ThPM has been decompressing from “church life.” We’re decompressed now. Time for something different.

-Living a post-modern incarnational life means shedding a lot of old stuff. Like Eustace in Voyage of the Dawn Treader. You’ve got to take off a lot of layer of dragon skins. The final one only Aslan can tear off, and it hurts, and afterwards when you jump in the water, it stings. I keep thinking I’ve got the last layer off and I’m out from under things that restricted me and didn’t reflect who I really am meant to be (with Christ incarnate in my chest.) But then I see there is another layer … {read more…}

What we search for in fiction is not so much reality, but the epiphany of truth.
-Azar Nafisi

This morning I cuddled with my kids and watched Jim Henson’s version of Jack and the Beanstalk. In this version, generations of “Jack Robinsons” have gone from rich to richer because of the loot the original 16th century Jack stole from the giant. (Goose with the golden eggs, golden harp…remember?) Of course, the current 20th century Jack is unaware of this magical source material for wealth. He is however, very aware of the “Robinson Family Curse” which explains why no J.R. has managed to live past 40 – and age he is fast approaching. The thing that struck me was how, in this … {read more…}

I just spent the better part of two hours cleaning the big “P” with a “o-r-n” off my website. I have to do this everyday — though not for two hours. Today there were the grossest titles I’ve ever heard of. I felt truly slimed.

To keep these jerks from posting on my site, I had to close all my comments up to today. Hopefully I’ve got all the IP’s blocked now.

Just FYI.

I feel like I must hold myself very still and small–like the core of me must be carefully compacted and held in the very center of my body, somewhere between my chest and my abdominal cavity, and that it should not be allowed to bump into anything. Everything seems very loud and intrusive – the happy hubbub of the cousins, the dull hum of the downtown library, the occasional swoosh of traffic outside my balcony doors. It all seems too loud, too grating.

I do not like this feeling.

I did not get up to run this morning with Heather. I’ve been having bad dreams and I cannot sleep, so I needed the extra hour and half between when I pull … {read more…}