Your Hands

This week was a recovery from the very fun and busy one before, and from the events of last weekend.

Tuesday night I hosted a Noonday party.  It was small but meaningful.

Wednesday was Veterans' Day, and we made a lot of things happen, including a visit to the zoo.

Friday, Scott and I both had some free time, so we cooked up some Thanksgiving food and took it to an early Thanksgiving event at my brother's house 2 hours away.  I don't have a great family pic of that, but here is one of my mom, my daughter, and my niece.

That day on the way to dinner I saw a few odd Facebook posts of condolences for Paris.  I didn't understand it until we got to the family visit, when my sister-in-law explained it more fully.  Then as the hours wore on, it became more grievously clear.  Echoes of 9/11.

The weekend after 9/11, Scott and I went to a concert, as we'd planned, for a long time.  It was Lifehouse and Jars of Clay at the OK state fair.  Last weekend, we also attended a conert; this time it was JJ Heller.

The first song they performed was "Your Hands."  I realized later it was probably because it was her big radio single, but still, it was appropriate for the moment.  

When my world is shaking, heaven stands

When my heart is breaking

I never leave your hands

It was a good moment.  I don't understand and can't speak to what is going on, but as the world shakes, it is what I remember.

I do feel so much more could be said, but will leave it here as I can always catch up later.

Ebeneezer

I've put off writing for a few weeks, because stuff happened that wasn't pretty.  I was and am not sure what pose to strike.  I'm sorry for wanting to be fake just so my life could seem pretty.  Of course, I want to hit the highlights, but how is it beneficial to only write when all the stars align so my moments appear as grand as my glossy, full-color imagination has wanted them to be?  It's just not.

So, anyways, the last few weeks have featured can't-pretend-they-don't-exist challenges.  Can I just move on now, and feel like I've broken the fourth wall without opening the floodgates of self-pity?  Is it okay for now to just leave it like that?  I'm gonna go with my gut and say it's sufficient.

Last weekend marked our 3rd year of living in our neighborhood.  I love it here this time of year, partly, I think, because it reminds me of when we first came, and had a fresh start.  At the same time, everything is coming up Christmas, which is a can't-miss-big-deal, water-for-my-weary-soul season.

We took some family pics with my cellphone on a timer - we happened to all be outside on this gorgeous day and had extra time, so we snapped, and there we have some memories forever.  So many of these are stored on the hardrive of my computer - I just flipped through a few and another tidal wave of wonder washes over me.  So much life - real, meaningful stuff happens, and we try to capture and share it so we don't miss it.

Real stuff.  So, so much good real stuff has happened these past few years, and there have been challenges; we can share a cup of real, right?  I guess I just want to make sure that's okay.  I guess it's my loss if it's not your cup of tea.  I personally, though, don't want to be held captive to the lie that real life, even good life, is without its challenges, heartbreaks, trials, and puzzles.

My favorite CCM artist Sara Groves released her new album today, and there's a song called "This Cup" that is so fitting to end with.  Go download the album or the single.  It goes:

This cup, this cup

I wanna drink it up

To be right here in the middle of it

Right here, right here

This challenging reality

Is better than fear or fantasy.