the eucharisteo notes {2}

I am so grateful for the way this life simultaneously takes my breath away and breathes new life in my lungs. It is the only wild life I will live and I intend to do so gratefully.

That said…I am grateful for the way a new city creates new experiences. It isn’t always good, but it is always an adventure.

I am grateful for late night deep talks with members of my tribe. Sometimes these are the only honest moments I find with people in a day and I drink them in like cool water on a hot afternoon.

I am grateful for returning from trips and feeling, for perhaps the first time in my life, that I am coming home. Texas has handled my heart so gently, so carefully, and I am glad, especially after this week, to be home.

I am grateful for the way dear friends listen to my overly detailed stories and smile and nod along with me, even when I know they’re quite possibly bored. Those who know me well know I process more thoroughly in the details, and indulge me in the rare moments I have much to speak aloud.

I am grateful for pastors who speak truth, live truth, love truth, and encourage us to see the imago Dei in all, especially when all are different from ourselves. My eyes have been opened to a different kind of leadership and stewardship. I will not be the same.

I am grateful for the way memories rush unbidden to the forefront of my thoughts. Memories, painful though they may be, remind me of what I have come from. This is a good gift.

I am grateful for the separation of chaff from wheat when it comes to friends. My tribe is in perpetual shift these days and love flows out of unexpected places.

I am grateful for the five months I have held in my current position. I want to go to work every day and to do good work and make a difference. And the opportunity to make a difference is ever-present. This is so much more than a job to me.

I am grateful for the privilege of sharing my life’s two missions with others. I long to empower girls to stop apologizing for the uniqueness of their lives and I want to teach well-intentioned but largely untested Christian university students that every life is sacred and that those different from ourselves are worthy of respect and dignity and completely undeserving of mockery. I have had the chance to discuss this with others twice in this past month and it blows my heart to bits every time. These are my missions and I will not be silent.

I am grateful for the softness with which I greet the day. I used to be up at 5 and on the go and never stopped to catch my breath. I sleep in until 6 sometimes these days. I languish in crisp white sheets and let the sun rise quietly and I do not chase after it. This is letting go and this is grace.

the eucharisteo notes {1}

A few years ago, a darling friend gave me a memory box in which I was supposed to stuff an entire year’s worth of memories. The gift in that was that at the end of the year, I could look back on a year of  joys and sorrows, wanted and unwanted, good and bad, and reminisce and cry and be grateful. That was the year that left me ragged and raw and clutching my bleeding heart in one hand and my broken dreams in the other.

Here I am, three years later, in a very different place personally and professionally and spiritually, and I still remember all those notes. Life has been so delicious of late that I want to write down each and every thing as it happens. I won’t be quite that prolific, as real life beckons to be lived and not just recorded, but I hope to capture some bits here. Welcome to the first edition of eucharisteo notes.

I am grateful for…

  • the way things happen. I began 2016 resigned to the life I was living. In the first 6 months of the year, I have accepted a student affairs position, moved to Texas, began working at a state university, and  with that, saw three dreams fulfilled at once. I have long been praying for each of these things, but I never thought I would see them all restored at the same time.
  • colleagues who are passionate about what they do. It’s a gamechanger for sure.
  • old friends who love me the same, no matter where I am or how long it’s been since I have seen them.
  • goodbye towns. And the country songs that give me words to describe them.
  • wrong first impressions. I surprise them, or they surprise me. Either way, we all learn something about books and covers.
  • a mum who loves ice cream and queso.
  • Texas speed limits. Some rules are meant to be broken.
  • a university that dwells in and respects diversity and the imago Dei in us all.
  • restoration with friends.
  • a God who speaks.
  • friends who allow me the privilege of hearing their jagged life stories.
  • a pastor and a church unafraid and unashamed of truth.
  • people who return text messages in complete sentences.
  • new babies and the mamas who let me hold them.
  • safe and clean housing just when I need it most.
  • a new mama for my boy and the best adventure partner I ever had, Ruger. I have no doubt she loves him as much as I do and she keeps me informed about his life.
  • losing myself in my work.
  • the pursuit of higher education.
  • being under the leadership of someone who spurs me on to good work.
  • the space to grieve.
  • real tortillas. Real cheese. Real butter. Real people.
  • letting go.