Burst

My heart is going to explode

in the sight of this.

Beauty, true beauty.

And love beyond means.

It may be the gallons of sunlight,

it may be family and pictures.

Pictures, smiles, hearts, but no.

I refuse to think it is only these.

It is not only the light, but

my God, the light!

It is not only soft kisses and

windows sweating with steam.

It is the truth in knowing, the

inarguable faith that these

are real. The messengers of

light, they are real, outside of

their perceived presence.

My blood remembers and knows,

beauty is real and it is here.

Or, I may implode.

A plea

Is it odd to enjoy waking up on Fridays to the sound of our building being vacuumed by our building-vacuuming man? Just think of how lush a well-vacuumed hallway looks...

Anyway, please allow me to set the mood:

How do you get to know God?

You personally... I really, really want to know!

One of my goals for 2010 is to know God more.

Jake is Catholic. I am not.

We are both all for Jesus and we worship the same.

And differing doctrines are always a great discussion-starter, they lead us both to learn more about what the church (as in all Christians) believes and why... we go to the Bible for answers, and we ask our friends and pastors.

Still, sometimes this search becomes more of an endeavor to be smart... not to know our Lord.

It becomes clearer and clearer,

as I pridefully and humbly search for

answers and apologetics,

that not all of these answers exist,

at least not here on earth,

and I don't think they should.

As of late, I have been praying fervently for our women's group that will soon start again. This semester, I have been asked to be the leader. I am thrilled because I love these women, we are a great group. But how in the world am I to lead? What a fitting challenge for a woman with a slight fear of failure.

I am certain in the glory of His ways.

The less I talk, the more God will.

The less I answer, the more God will.

But in those moments when I am called, wherever I am called, to speak or act, I pray what comes out of me will be purely of God.

This is important for me as a leader and me simply as a person who claims to follow Jesus.

So, a plea,

would you please honor me by letting me know how you spend time with God,

how you seek to be more like Jesus,

what inspires you,

where you see Him?

I'd love to know.

Home. Food. Safe. Warm.

Home. Safe. Warm. Food.

These are not God. But they are undoubtedly from Him.

His face is all over them, His embrace in them.

I walked on the sidewalk with poverty, took a long train ride, was disheartened about religious history and reformation, moved through the bitter cold dark, climbed three flights to the studio and sighed.

Safe. Home. Food. Warmth.

It was impossible not to meditate on these things.

May we never forget how truly blessed we are to simply arrive to our warm homes (however tiny) safely.

Jesus said

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life,

what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.

Is not life more important than food,

and the body more important than clothes?"

Matthew 6:25

Truly

Nothing is as inspiring as looking back on who you were. After seriously almost a day of dreaming vicariously through other people's blogs, I remembered my very first online journal. I traversed back to 7 years ago and read the thoughts of my 13-year-old self.

I was blown away

by how much I remember about being 13, 14, 15...

and by how sassy I was.

Sure, there's plenty to blush about. (bad words, weird phrases)

But I love who I was.

Truly.

And I desperately needed to feel that.

Whenever I heard people "admit" that they were having trouble loving their selves, honestly, I rolled my eyes and thought to myself "yeah, who doesn't." I thought it was a selfish and prideful "struggle."

Then, of course, it happened to me.

I don't know when, but I think it snuck in a while ago, and just now it is rearing its ugly head into absolutely everything.

I am horribly compulsive.

I don't focus well when I pray.

I feel guilty relaxing and activity feels empty, too.

I start too many projects at once because I am obsessed with being efficient and not wasting time.

This is ugly, it spreads me too thin and it distracts me from those who deserve my love and attention... like an adorable husband sitting at the breakfast table alone while I cook two meals and clean the windows simultaneously. (Because I was there and I noticed it needed to be done and I am weak against my compulsions.)

I know, for one thing, it's a lack of God.

But it's also a lack of self-love. There I said it.

I struggle with loving myself.

And this makes it really hard to believe that God loves me.

One thing I observed is that my love for Jake, and his for me, forces us to be together whenever possible. It is light and heavy at once. It is finely sweet, deep and tumultuous... it is different.

I still function on the energy of alone time. We've only been married two months but I've noticed that I need to find, no, I need to make alone time if I want to continue to be the woman Jake loves. The woman I recognize.

I do not believe self-sufficiency, or complete independence, is all good. But we'll work on that next. For now, I need to work on making the most use of my alone time.

Today, for example, I sang praise at the top of my lungs, pretended I was Nancy Drew, prayed and even tried to play the guitar.

Today, God excited me!

Like a living creature stuffed into a sack, something in my heart started to kick and stretch. I am digging around me for resources to feed this creature and, more importantly, I am looking for the drawstring to untie the sack and let the creature out!

I'm writing this today, because I want more transparency. I started blogging to remember things. Read this, my hello, to get an idea.

I'm writing this today, because 13-year-old Taylor inspired me--more than anyone else ever has--and maybe someday 20-year-old Taylor will inspire the future me.

If I want it, I have to start it.

Day 4-Last day... last pictures of my white scarf in Mexico

This was New Year's Eve! All of the other gringos (white folk) came out of hiding on Day 4. The streets were buzzing, tents were going up, and we did little but walk around for 10 hours.

Actually, before getting to el centro we made a quick visit to the college where some of our friends studied abroad. (Holler to Dave and Erin!)

Then of course, another church. These aged churches are so fascinating... all of the art and those annexed chapels! This sign says:

"This is a place of prayer, God listens to you, you should listen to Him, too."

This is truly my favorite kind of prayer. The kind where I don't say a thing.

(Side note: I really wonder how these old churches put electricity in their walls!)

The photos above and below are so "Mexico" to me. The banners, the bug and the church.

Our participation in the "Where is Vincent" photo project. St. Vincent DePaul, the namesake for Jake's school and work, was all about social justice and so we thought this was the perfect place to take Vince's portrait.

We stumbled upon a cafe named Toulouse Lautrec. Named after the same artist as Jake's band! Obviously we had to buy something and support the cause.

And we're back to where I started us, the night service for New Year's Eve at church. It was mythical, so many people and so many candles!

Thanks for following the recap of our honeymoon journey. I write this as much for myself as for you. I hope to share some of the magic with you. I want to remember vividly for myself the heat, the light, the colors, the stimulation to my ears and fingertips.

I do believe that too many pictures are a crutch to the memory.

May the words here help to root what we experienced deep into our beings and spur potent memories when they are read again in a few years.

"What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love becomes a part of us." - Helen Keller -