March In My Heart.

It is March in my heart right now.  Like March in the soil, March in the sky, March in the season.  I feel the brightness awaken of the tips of summer -- noons of nice weather, daffodils brought to raise, and trees blossomed with white rounds.  I feel the cold luster of winter -- the dreary clouds, the deaded bushes, and the early dark of night.  I feel the sway of days, undetermined by any sense of normal, flowing up to warmth and beauty as quickly as the dash down to chilled and dragging.

It is March in my heart right now.  No sense of norm, little equilibrium to keep balance.  Each day is new and present, but changing always, from sloshy to sunny.  Promises lay among the ground, like hydrangeas darkened black yet showing growth of green, like deaded tree springs finding blooms in bundles, like tulip leafs stretching through.  They are yet to be full alive, fully awakened, but are yet discerned, noticed, promising.

With each day, I am taught to abide in my heart right now, to trust his promises and remain faithful.  Whether the morning brings birds singing, the March sign that May will come, or misty rain, the foretelling of April showers, renewal is here and promises are present.  The rain feels like saddness or loneliness or barren spaces of time, at times.  But I know its making a fresh the soil in my heart and in my life, preparing it as fertile for new growth to come.

It's March in my heart right now.  A mixture of staying quiet against the harsh of winters season, or preparing for joy in bulbs reaching for growth, or feeling sunshine color my skin like dreams in brushstrokes begun painted.  It's March in my heart right now.

... And Carry On.

A phrase has become popular on T-shirts, bumper stickers, posters, and general lingo:

I think a Biblical context, a human context, a life context needs to be discussed on this phrase.  It is interesting, as my friend and I discussed, at the world's opinion of this phrase.  It has been elevated, highlighted, posted, and pursued. Keeping calm seems the ultra goal.

But, did God create us to keep calm?

Did God, Jesus, aspire to keep calm?

We were discussing life and dating and us and our personalities.  Her insight was so interesting that I had to marvel and rethink it, and then compare the worldly view with what we know to be True.  She talked about guys and the way they talk about girls they are interested in or dating, and the ultimate phrase, the way they seem to be proud of the girl, the style they want from her is, "Yeah, she's really chill... She's easy to be with... She's laid back..."

But, if God wanted us all to be only a subset of emotions, only peaceful or "whatever" all the time, would he have then created our diversity in emotion, our inflection in responses, our capacity to feel and react so differently?  This does not mean to give full rights to our emotions, or be ruled by them, or say that all are good.  I do think there is importance and call to guide ourselves by the fruits of the spirit, including self-control.  However, I think heed needs to be given to the "all-sufficient calm" we are told to strive for.

Most posters, T-shirts, and signs with this phrase include a crown at the top.  The princess mark.  The alter-ego we are told we should wish to wear since we are children, little girls.  So then, does the phrase insinuated that to earn royalty and esteem and princess-ship, than we are to always be laid back, give little thought, and have a sense of "whatever" about life?

I beg to differ.

I see, I know, a God who takes everything personally.  Who wages war against his people when injustice was wrought.  Who lead kings and armies with strength and stamina.  Who quiets his people with his love but also rejoices over them with singing.  He is a God with strength like a mighty fortress, with wrath that burned against entire cities (Sodom and Gomorra), who's love is as fiercely jealous as it is beautifully devoted.  Jesus threw tables over in conviction, devoted intention to disciples, and stood up to Sadducees.  He divides the sheep from the goats daily, and has promised his love as much as a day of judgement. My God spoke in whispers as well as whales, pursued the barren as intensely as the prostitute.

This is my God.

He is not calm.  He is everything on the spectrum.  He is invigorating, he is life-giving.  He is joyful, he is just.  He is angry, he is saddened.  He is pursuing, he is purposeful.  He is silent, he is roaring.

To "keep calm and carry on" contradicts who my Savior is, and in some instances, who I am called to be.  To "keep calm and carry on" is to ignore the orphan, to by-pass the widow.  To "keep calm and carry on" is to shrug through life without dancing or crying or screaming or laughing.  To "keep calm and carry on" is to have a life without conviction, to have a day without a vision, to have a heart without calling.

God doesn't ask us all to be even-keeled, or all to be dramatic.  But he does ask us to live a life worthy of His calling.  In this, he leads us with conviction of his Truth, the chaos of community, and the mission of his gospel that to carry on.

Cooking Club.

It started as "Soup Sisters"  then turned "Casserole Night" and tonight was "Spanish Food."  In my mind, now its become this little club that weaves all good things together -- conversation, Christ, and cooking.  It's four of us women, all pursuing Jesus and life.  Around the table, that is beautiful.

I met Blair at a park Judy invited me to, and she happened to know Trish from a small group at church. I met Trish on a couch and we swapped life and hearts and eventually spaces in each other's weddings. Trish met Judy at a dinner table on a women's retreat.  Judy met Blair, with talks of missions and their daughters.  I taught with Judy, heard her prayers with my roommate, nannied with her, and lived in the same building. And all three of the ladies husbands go to the same seminary.  Each of the four had intertwined stories but separate relationships, and I figured, hoped, prayed as a four we would blend. So in January, we sat down to supper.

This first meeting was Soup.  Judy's "nanny mom" Sara had a soup exchange with friends and Judy relayed the idea.  I pondered the concept and built upon it.  Each of us made a pot:  Trish with her famous chicken noodle, Judy with an Indian soup, Blair with sweet potato chili, and me with white chicken chili.  Our pots were mammoth, but so were our hearts.  So we came with left over containers, and left with those full as well as our hearts.  We sipped soup and shared conversation and talked about life and missions and children and parenting and godliness and schools.  Mark walked in at 9:33 and we were still bantering away, tasting fresh bread and talking like school girls.

February brought Trish's.  Casserole night spread through her kitchen.  Blair's chicken dumplings, Judy's enchiladas, my Smokie Link Casserole, and Trish's chicken 'n rice.  We sat at her cozy round table and smelled candles and forked salad and told stories.  Blair posed the question:  how you knew you wanted to marry your husband, and the chatter began!  Each said ours would be short, but once we shared the length grew, as did our excitement and renewed love for our men.  The stories made us laugh, prod questions, and poke for more.  When Andrew walked in amidst our giggles, silence was quick and we laughed with smirk!  At lunch the next day sat Andrew with leftovers, and Micah with his.  I sent Mark with his in a lunch packed, and ate mine too, and Trish called the next day to laugh over the whole joy of lefties!

Tonight was Spanish night, in honor of Judy.  Her table was set with perfectly made placements by her hand, and lemon spiked the water.  We filled our plates, and talked of Spain.  I savored her raisien-carrot-cinnamon-pear-chicken dish, and was proud of my Viva Madrid Spanish Chicken served on Blair's Spanish rice.  Judy's guest Natalyia platted eggs with tuna filling and eggplant smattered with garlic mayo and tomato.  Judy's gazpacho chilled in my side bowl, and Trish's churros dipped in chocolate finished it off.  We ate with thoughts and dreams and callings in mind, sharing in the plans of Judy and Natalyia's mission in Spain, and our connected stories of being there.  I questioned all the ladies about their "what I don't do" list and read from Shauna Niequist about the "home team".  We talked about friendships and life and seasons and love.  And I didn't want to leave.

I'm sitting here now wishing so much from these friends, for these friends.  These cooking club, conversation, Christ-followers who share in my life once a month at dinner night, and still often too throughout the week.  I know very soon, all three ladies will spread and fly, and I will find myself here wishing for them.  But right now I am thankful to bloom where we're planted, and grow roots with them and dig deep and make life real and full and tasty, whether spicy, salty, or sweet.  They meet with me once a month, and in that, we create space at the table, which honors the table of the King.