carbonated joy

Believe it or not, I often get accused of being shallow.
I frequently have people (even teenage people) tell me that I’m just not “deep” enough for them.
Shocking, huh?
I think it’s because I’m frequently…well…silly.
Apparently, silly is shallow.
Deep takes itself quite seriously.
Deep is somber and dignified all the time.
Deep speaks in a deep voice.
Deep requires big, confusing words (preferably in Greek or Hebrew).
Deep confounds and contains at the same time.
Deep discusses, debates, and destroys dissension .
Deep is usually really just asking for you to agree with preconceived notions.
Deep sticks to the script.
Deep makes everything controllable.
Deep fully explains everything.

But, how do you really explain the unexplainable?
How can you really fathom the deep?

Maybe…just maybe, deep isn’t what we think it is…

I don’t think deep is complicated.
I think that sometimes the deepest thing we can do is remind each other of what we already know.
We know the love of God, but there is always more to plunge into.
It is an ocean.
We can spend time in the kiddie pool of certainty and call it deep. We can try to figure everything out and only feel safe and comfortable if we can see the bottom of the pool.
That’s pretty shallow.
I have learned that If you can see the bottom, you probably aren’t where you are supposed to be.
Deep happens when our authentic self, whether it’s serious or silly or whatever, finds itself in a constant pursuit to know the love of God more and more.
Deep is an invitation to lean into what is already known, to plunge into the somber, the sacred AND the silly.
Deep is going to a place where you can’t touch the bottom and hanging out there.
Deep isn’t having or giving all the answers.
It’s knowing that there is a love that is immeasurable.
It doesn’t require perfection or big, impressive words, it just requires honesty and hunger.
Deep calls to deep.
Deep calls to us…
Get lost in the love.
Now, THAT is deep!!

It was a dark and stormy night, I parked my Prius in front of the Hi-View Mini-Mart. I got out of the car and stumbled into the chilly convenience store. It seemed to be abandoned. There, beside the cash register was beef jerky and sunflower seeds. I walked past the candy bars and 87 different varieties of potato chips. The colorful slushee machine sat over in the corner making a foreboding humming noise. There was a Hall and Oates song quietly playing over the intercom.
It was all very surreal.
But, then, suddenly, i saw it, the holy grail of convenience store grub, it sat in a dusty display case…a cellophane wrapped burrito that I swear was glowing. It almost looked otherworldly.
It was a full 12 inches of curious bean and cheese wonder. Despite the strange green glow, it looked delicious and I was hungry.
I opened one end of the package and threw it into the scruffy looking microwave. I set the timer for the suggested two minutes and waited, for my dinner bell to ring.
It was interesting…while cooking, the flour tortilla shell became the consistency of crunchy leather.
Part of the burrito was still frozen and part was mouth blistering hot. I grabbed a plastic spork and dug into the nuked nutritiousness.
I ate it.
I ate it all, even the frozen and crunchy parts.
I ate it all and I thought that was all…
But…I was wrong…
So very wrong…
dreadfully, stomach churningly wrong…
2 hours and 37 minutes later, the burrito returned!
It was ALIVE…in the deepest part of me.
It was back in all its greasy glory.
It seemed to be fighting it’s way out of my tummy like a over caffeinated jungle cat trying to escape out of a cardboard box.
I thought I was going to die.
I thought I was going to explode…literally.
I wished I would explode…literally.
There was a strange fire within me.
Strange guttural noises were coming out of my…well…gut.
Toxic fumes were escaping my body.
I…just…couldn’t…help…myself…
UUURRRRPPPPPPP!!

But then, I…woke up! It had all been a really disturbing dream caused by a bad chimichanga.

Toxic

I’m working on my trust muscles.
It’s pretty much a nonstop workout.
It’s more about leaning than lifting.
Although there IS some squatting, it’s NOT about picking weight up.
It’s actually about letting go of the weight, it requires handing everything over to your spotter.
I’m working on my trust muscles.

A little pirate poetry…

AVAST matey, your little boat is really shaken now, everything is all a skelter.
You are caught red faced in an imperfect storm, looking for some shelter.
Don’t lose hope!
Grab hold of the rope.
Dig in, stay the course and hold fast,
Storms hit hard, but they don’t last
The cold winds howl and the crashing thunder has roared.
Something is fishy, your dreams have gone overboard.
You feel yourself thrown around like helpless plankton,
Wondering out loud where is a little bit of sanctum?
Dig in, stay the course and hold fast,
Storms hit hard, but they don’t last.
Holy mackerel!! You feel queasy, your face is turning green.
These have to be the hardest times you have ever seen.
Though the raging surf stings your face and visibility is zero.
Drop anchor and keep your eyes on true North, hold out for a hero.
Dig in, stay the course and hold fast,
Storms hit hard, but they don’t last.

The last few months we have had a construction site directly across from our house. There have been countless large trucks and men with tool belts. They are building a big new house. It’s been pretty crazy! There’s lots of dust and debris. We look out our front window and we have a beautiful scenic view of a lovely, green, industrial porta potty. There is also a wonderful dumpster. It’s pretty magical.
I really should see the big picture, newness is coming to the cul-de-sac. That’s good, but it’s bugging me. I get impatient with all the mess that comes with progress. I’m not giving them much grace because they are invading my space.
I’m ready for it to be done!
I was grumbling under my breath about this the other day when I got grace slapped.
I was reminded of how far I am from done. The thought came to me that I am a construction sight. I am my own complete mess.
I AM UNFINISHED.
I’m a completely original DIY project for God, and I will be until the day I see His face.
You are in the same cul-de-sac.

We are an unfinished people.

Until the day that we draw our last breath, we are unfinished.
We are constantly in process.
This actually should be good news. It should set you free. If we think there is a possibility of us being finished and perfect, we beat ourselves up if we aren’t. We act like we are finished and we have it figured out. We need to realize it’s totally, completely ok to not be ok.
We are an unfinished people.
Unfinished people GET grace and space.
Unfinished people GIVE grace and space.
WHAAA?! You aren’t perfect? SHOCKER! Welcome to the human race my friend!
Excellence is overrated(and usually unobtainable). Instead of moving from good to great, we need to hurl ourselves from great to grace. Then we will see how much more fun life can be.
GET grace!
GIVE grace!
Give yourself the space to be perfectly imperfect. Give YOURSELF the room to be unfinished. THEN, give the unfinished others the same grace and space. You are meant to be different in a year than today. Make room for construction.
Ruth Bell Graham’s headstone reads: “End of Construction – Thank You for Your Patience”.
I love that!!! She got it!!
We are all at different stages of construction.
We all have our dust and debris.
We are all also farther along than we were this time yesterday.
We are an unfinished people.
That should give you a dumpster load of hope and patience.
We are all walking, talking construction sites. God is crafting a habitation for Himself in YOU. The crazy thing is that He moves in the moment we invite Him, because He is all about inside jobs.
YOU are a completely original DDIY (Divine Do It Yourself) project, and you WILL be until the day that you see your builder face to face.
We are an unfinished people, that should mak

Love…

Love doesn’t boycott, bully, belittle or brag.
Love builds, brings and beckons.

Love doesn’t shutout or slander.
Love is a welcome mat.

Love doesn’t throw you under the bus,
Love buys you a ticket to ride.

Love doesn’t look with desire.
Love listens with delight.

Love doesn’t grab, love gives and gives and gives.

Love won’t stay in a box,
It’s way too LARGE for that.
It can’t be contained, but it can be cultivated.

Love is strong, it’s stronger than death.
Yet, at the very same time, love is tender.
Love never forces, love frees.
Love doesn’t intrude, love invites.

Love trusts, hopes, and doesn’t give up.
Love celebrates. Love likes to party.
Love proves itself to be BIG in the smallest ways.

Love!