the good, the bad, the ugly

the good: listening to ray lamontagne and thinking about looking at the cobblestone old town alexandria streets and pier through the eyes of my niece and nephew. It was magic to see their trusting eyes look through crowds of strangers, searching for pirate ships and distracted by every sensation of color strewn in our path. There were the balloons, the two chinese sketch artists, the parot man, the planes flying overhead and the lazy old anchor leaning in the park. All that yellow, orange, white, blue against the warm canvas of the night. I know that Jeff thinks I will feel different when I have my own kids, but I couldn't help wondering if it were possible to love and be fascinated more by little people as I was by my little sarah, william wallace and zoe.

the bad: okay I'm just going to get to the ugly

the ugly: knowing that I am going to have the face a judge with the other criminals because this weekend I got a ticket for reckless driving. I was speeding, but somehow this feels so much worse and not unlike that long walk I had to make to see the Drama teacher after a paint fight with Brian where we pretty much coated the whole set with yellow paint during the high school play.

"Being and Nothingness"

A few more hours until I'm supposed to wake up and unfortunately I can't sleep. The night, the house, and even the crickets aren't breathing or it could very well be that I'm losing my hearing. I'm reminded for some strange reason of John Burnside and this haunting poem I used to love a long time ago:

"...the trees fill with heat,
the stations arrive at light
by a process of logic;
goat willow, birchwoods,
a cluster of dusty leaves,

then brickwork
and a street that aches for snow.
I never sleep on trains, I'd soon be lost
and how would I know myself
if not for the way you listen in your sleep
and find me,
turning,
waking,
drifting off; ..."

Si j'avais les ailes de la colombe

"Je dis: Oh! si j'avais les ailes de la colombe, Je m'envolerais, et je trouverais le repos; Voici, je fuirais bien loin, J'irais séjourner au désert; Je m'échapperais en toute hâte, Plus rapide que le vent impétueux, que la tempête....

Ce n'est pas un ennemi qui m'outrage, je le supporterais; Ce n'est pas mon adversaire qui s'élève contre moi, Je me cacherais devant lui.

C'est toi, que j'estimais mon égal, Toi, mon confident et mon ami! Ensemble nous vivions dans une douce intimité, Nous allions avec la foule à la maison de Dieu!

--Psaume de David

Never too late to start a revolution

This was a weekend of movies. Friday we watched a great showing of "North by Northwest" (which was totally scandalous and turned my tan skin all sorts of shades of red as Eve Marie Saint and Cary Grant got a little too steamy for my taste in the train comparment). But overall it was a great time of being outside with great friends as we enjoyed some witty cary grant and a little reprieve from the heat.

Saturday night we also ended up watching a wonderful little german movie called "Schultze Gets the Blues" about this accordion player who has just retired from being a minor, receives a rock shaped lamp for his retirement and then ends up dabbling in somes blues from the South. Although I didn't really know what to expect, almost from the very beginning I was quite endeared by the long lanquid montages, the eerie silences instead of a hugh music score and an exalting of the ordinary. It was a film that gave you a lump in your throat just waiting for what would happen to Schultze. But what happens are quiet silent notes that makes up the moments of the life of a very lonely accordian player. It wasn't all sentimentality though, it was a picture of lonliness with moments of hilarity. I think one of my favorites scenes was Schultze and two of his old friends are sitting around and one of them says "let's start a revolution." Then one of his other retired friends slams down his beer and says, "it's never too late to start a revolution."

Au revoir, Arrivederci, Bye, Bye-bye

Two years after we met him, tonight my small group at church said goodbye to our friend Noble. What a bittersweet departure as I thought about all the small things he did so selflessly in church and how I was always the grateful recipient of his brotherly care as he always made it a point to walk me out to the car, help us move, and to always find me at the biggest gathering to say hello. It was so good to tell him all the ways we were so grateful for him, the least of which was that he is such a snazzy dresser.

As I left and walked into the night, where a slice of the buttery moon was melting into the sky, I felt a slight tug as I thought about how difficult seasons of change can be when I take my eyes off of God. Noble leaving seems like the beginning but how good to be reminded tonight that God did take me from my little dark corner where I stood aimless and stilled the troubled waters. That all along He had a plan. That while I never knew His plan, I can't say that I've ever regretted that moment that I gave Him the wheel of my rickety car.

"I took you from the ends of the earth,
from its farthest corners I called you.
I said, 'You are my servant';
I have chosen you and have not rejected you.

So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:9