True voices... Can you hear them?

So many unbelievable things happen to us while we journey down this road called life, that I wonder why we don't just intrepret ourselves right off of the beaten path and into a ditch more often. Everyone, no matter who they are in relation to you seems to have their own thoughts on those events, ...I guess that's why the old saying only values those words as being worth "two cents." Ironically, in a way my comments are not worth any more than all the others I am refering to, but alas I continue to write this commentary...

I meet with a dear friend of mine this morning, (with whom I co-lead a time of singing, fellowship, eating, bible study, and prayer) due to timing constraints and our schedules we have not been able to meet with each other for the past eight or nine months. Yet, sitting and talking with him was like we had just been together the day before. He and I have developed a relationship that has spanned nearly 8 years, meeting weekly for the last 5 of those (give or take a week or two). I am very excited to be able to strike up the band once again with him.

The reason I bring him up is because he went through one of those difficult life experiences that my heart is especially tender towards right now, a ripped apart engagement that nearly tore his world and soul apart. Even this morning, nearly 20 years later, he still had a look of shock and horror on his face when he began to recall the things he did during the time right after his heart was shredded inside of him by his so called fiancée. To make the long story short Hope, is what saved him, capital 'H' (his wife's name) as well as little 'h' hope the virtue, the same idea that ancient world couldn't understand.

These things are hard for me to write about, not because I don't like talking about them, but more so because I care for someone who is in the thick of it all, and will be for quite some time. That closeness for me, makes her pain personal. Hence my timid attempt to cautiously explore the issue here in this semi-public venue. I would never say that I feel her pain, but to be gifted with the ability to bear that burden in what ever capacity is somthing that I cherish and treasure. She has had something torn away from her that I can't even begin to claim to understand. If that person is able to read these words, know that you are being bathed in prayer and cared for, and most of it is not merely from my heart, but from many more people who she may not be able see in her daily comings and goings of this journey called life.

My New Office

Garrett and I packed our lunches this morning. I enjoy sharing these simple tasks with a friend, they both make them easier to do more often, and they are another way to connect so early in the morning. After we finished however, I took mine and went to my office, and he with his to his work. When I decided to consume my pre-made meal, I wondered where I would sit and relax. I longed to share my lunch hour with another person, but alas I felt as though none were available at that time.

I first started upstairs in our 3rd floor office in the new breakroom, but I felt exiled and without company in the back room. I should have brought a book with me and got to know an author a little better, oh well, maybe next time. Then I took my food down to my office on the 2nd floor, and sat at my desk, I turned on a little bit of KCRW and played some scenario poker on my laptop while I ate. It was nicer, well I occupied myself, but still not what I was hoping for.

Maybe I will enjoy it more once my office is finished being put together, and all of my decorations and paraphernalia is put on the walls and shelves. I did take some time to look at my clock and vase, and I dwelt on an absent picture frame that all three pieces were part of a handsome dark brown animal skin desk set. I thought to myself, I wonder what adventure that frame is participating in right now, much less the adventure it has witnessed these last 6 weeks.

All in all, my lunch hour is nothing special, but the invitation is always open for company. I'd much rather have the problem of managing and prioritizing my company and schedule than just sitting and waiting. But I'm content to wait, especially when it's important.

Trash Cans, Planter Beds, and Wall Paper...

So I went to a Doger game today, that's right the Los Angeles Dogers, not to Brooklyn Dogers and certainly not the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. (even though I am more so an angels fan right now, I'm still bitter at the lame name choice)

Dogers beat the Astros 1-0, the game was interesting, and full of excitement. Not as much as an Angel game I went two almost two and a half months ago, but none the less this game was highly enjoyed by all in attendance. I thank my Dad for purchasing tickets from a season ticket holder and allowing me it invite 2 additional friends along for the ride. He has tried to keep this practice with me growing up as long as I was able to remember going to the baseball game. I hope to someday be able to pass on the tradition, generosity, and delight. We all greatly enjoyed the game, the heat, and the crowds.

I started my day with a little bit of bedside Baptist, and about 2 hours of yard work. I do understand why someone would want to make sure that there home was in order (physically speaking) as a priority in how they life their life. (this is not a total concession to my mom's way of living her life, but none the less when you are gone for 5 weeks, and no one cultivates your home there does come a line the needs to be crossed, then battled, then slowly but surely put back in order)

When we returned from the Doger game, my Dad helped me "dumpster dive" and dump our already full trash cans due to my excessive cleaning these last few days. Once room was created, my roommate Garrett and myself went to work cleaning and organizing our Fridges and Freezers as well as our pantry closet. This included, but is not limited to shopping, cleaning, moving, organizing, scrubbing, dismantling, breaking, vacuuming, throwing away, snacking, stripping wallpaper, and setting-up policies for the house we live in!

There was more that happened this weekend, but I thought that this glimpse would be enough for starters...

Making all things new...

Back again...

Since flying into John Wayne late Tuesday evening:

I've slept in my own bed with my own pillows for two nights so far.

I spent hours upon hours cleaning up messes, others as well as my own.

I am forming strategies to reclaim my home, and at least mend the neglected garden.

I have been given the job of serving beauty, in more ways than one.

I was able to give one of many gifts to the most beautiful lady I know, on a date that was more wonderful than any fantasy I could have dreamt up.

This is the life I long for. I am glad for the ability to return.

Cromwell's Ely

Cathedral's are some of the most magnificent structures in our physical world, the are just big enough to be beyond our natural comprehension of size and stature, and so we are left breathless and overtaken. Yet, on the inside they are adorned with images and designs of the highest calling that dare to tell the entire romance between God and Man in every single stroke and cast a vision into His kingdom through every pane of colored glass.

This trip to Cromwell's Ely I found something new. I was having the first hints of a hard week sent my direction and so my mind, in an attempt to reconcile my own structural integrity, imagined how disappointed I would be if we got there and the entire structure were covered with scaffolding revealing the deficient endurance and insufficient determination of such an edifice. While I stood there and fixed my gaze upon the stones, I realized that many different parts had been replaced by new stone and while I cognitively assented to the philosophical issues of material composition and the problem of Theses' ship, I delighted in the thought of new stone being able to bare the burden of the greater whole. Not just a stone for stone replacement, but a strategic and precise placement of support, exactly where it is needed most. Then I imagined how the masons, in their service to this place, must have felt at some point when they found themselves contributing to the betterment of something magnificent. What a gift to be able to participate in the life of some thing so beautiful, for both King and country. Yet, the old stone communicates something profound to the new stone. (I'll have to think about that some more, but I bet it is all in Plato, or at least Lewis' Till We Have Faces

While I prepared for the service to begin...

I found a little book with a sticker on it, and this book was in the most unlikely of places. It was a guest book. Not just any guest book, but a very elite log of those who have been held captive in the Tower by the evil one eyed monster that controls the current trajectory of our culture. So I signed my name in it...

How's that for an analogy, metaphor, allegory or whatever else it should actually be classified. Can you guess what I signed? How about who the monster was? Maybe what the tower was?

I'll give you a hint...

The bridge over the river cam

My heart and soul are truly blessed in this place.

Despite the difficulties of Monday and Tuesday, technically speaking, the week is shaping up and turning out well. It is Wednesday afternoon, and I am about to do some much needed laundry. I purchased a regional bottle of scotch that I am looking forward to sampling, not to mention a few bottles of red wine for our evening.

The venue where we are meeting is the most sound facility here in the city, acoustically speaking... ha ha! It is the Faculty of Music concert hall, get it? sound... music... Actually the venue is quite new and recently built, and Robinson college, where Don and I are staying was built the year I was born, so it is quite new by English standards to say the least.

Stay tuned for more pictures and my comments about Ely Cathedral, but now I am off to clean my "pants."