Friday, November 2, 2012

Hi, I'm the one made in the image of God with awkward stains on her pants

This morning I went out garage saling and to the grocery store.  When I got home, I realized that I had streaks of dried waffle batter all around the crotch of my black yoga pants. 

Great.

Last night, we played Capture the Flag at Klub.  I get really competitive if I don't talk down my heart before hand (which I didn't last night), and I wrestled one of our college leaders to the ground and gave him a bloody scratch.

Whoops.  

I bought four cans of pumpkin and four jars of peanut butter and four pounds of coffee to take to Rachel and her American friends in Turkey without realizing that with those small items, I'd just eaten up a fourth of my suitcase's allotted weight.  People, the expats need their pumpkin!!!

Packing fail.

I'm running a marathon on Sunday and getting on a plane less than 48 hours later.  Do you think I'll still be sore by takeoff?  Please vote no.

Crazy.

In the last week, I have seen two of our male neighbors outside in their briefs.  Not even boxers.  Would I make this stuff up?  

Wrong place, wrong time.  

Last night, I threw chicken and potatoes in the crockpot and covered them with the first two things I thought of: barbecue sauce and ranch dressing.  It actually wasn't bad.  Oh, the mercies of the crockpot.  

Can we call this carbo loading?

All this to say, it is so funny to look at individual cross sections of our lives.  From those six things, you probably think I lead a very strange existence.  Let's be generous and say quirky, okay?  

But then I think of the Louie Giglio video I watched with my small group girls on Monday night.  The fabulous, unbelievable thing is that all of us, each living breathing set of 206 dry bones, bear a mark of the Divine.  We're walking around with this huge weight of glory all over us, and we still spill our coffee and smell our armpits when no one is looking and wear that holey flannel shirt because it's comfortable.

Isn't that amazing?  

In all the everyday muck and oddity of life on planet Earth, there is a deeper and truer story.  I wanna be alive to the mystery of it, open to the wildness of it.  Isaiah 40 calls us grasshoppers, yet the Star-Breathing, Ocean-Gathering, Enormous God of the Universe sees our hearts and says we are part of something bigger.  We're not just set loose here for eighty years to swim through the crazy.    He's writing a Story, and He invites every last one of us weird, precious people to be a part of it.  To join Him.  

That is amazing.  

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