I might actually be funny.

I've been reading Hyperbole and a Half for so long now that I have actually deluded myself into believing that I am as sarcastically funny as she is.  Seriously.  Delusion.

I guess it's a thin line between recognizing that I am, in fact, delusional, and still thinking/reading my stuff and finding it absolutely hilarious.  Perhaps deranged or retarded are more appropriate.

Regardless, all of my thoughts are now running through my head in a random mix of short, full-of-descriptive words text and stick-figure pictures of bears and stuff.  Life just got a whole lot more entertaining.

At least I think I'm funny.  (And amazingly funny at that).

You're probably just going to need to deal with it.

And then you should read all the stories on that website.  Then you can be as funny as me.  Fact.

photo credit: Hyperbole and a Half

The Simple Dog Goes for a Joyride

Seriously, read THIS.  I literally could not stop laughing, and I was at work, so it was an issue.

From Hyperbole and a Half

Beware: This blog is *legitimately* hilarious.

A new era

I hugged them both a second time.  I desperately held back tears.  And then I watched them walk towards security, towards their airplane, towards their trip to South America.

It's the beginning of a new era.  Brad and Katie started their adventure yesterday.  They'll be back.  In nine weeks.  But only for a short time--then they'll leave for grad school, and the Peace Corp. 

It's just hard not having my brother here.  Easily accessible when I need him.  I really miss him already.

Community

I've been thinking a lot about community lately.

Every month I get together with a good friend over lunch.  We try out different restaurants every time, but we always end up talking about community.  Without fail.

They're great conversations that force me to think through community.  To figure out why it still feels elusive.  And why other people claim they feel "community" in groups that I do not.  Each month we seem to dig a little deeper.

I think everyone needs community.  Whether they admit it to themselves or not.  But I think that the "need" that they have for community varies widely depending on the person.

A person who lives far from their family needs a different kind of community than a person who still lives at home.  A single person is looking for something different in community than a married couple. Et cetera...

This is hardly groundbreaking, but being able to see this made "community" a whole lot more understandable for me.

Communities seem to form around a common need.  For a long time I just assumed that "all communities were created equally", but I'm quickly learning that it doesn't work that way.  When I visit the "community" that one of my good friends is a part of, I don't get that feeling of "community".  And I think that it's because what that community offers is not what I'm looking for.  They operate around a collective need--and it works for them!  I just have a different need.

I'm still searching.  I'll find my community eventually.

Today.

After almost eight years I have returned to a now unfamiliar place in life.

I've done everything solo for so long.  I'd accepted that fate.  Almost.

I bought a house.  And a dog.  I learned how to mow my lawn & fix things when they broke.

I made plans as I wished.  Based purely on my own schedule or wishes.  Or the dog's eating schedule.

I'm not even going to pretend I know how this works.  What should be discussed.  Or joint schedules.

In fact, the newness of the word "boyfriend" caught me completely off guard.  I accidentally used "friend" instead.  And then felt like a terrible person.

I feel a little disoriented.  Is there a guidebook for this??

I think I'm mostly afraid to mess it up.  A nervous fear assuaged only by the equally high level of excitement of "new" and "fun".

Guess I'll figure it out.  Like everyone else.

Spring

It's finally spring.  Literally and and metaphorically.  I feel like I've ventured into a new season--one full of color and life.  But it's still very early in the season, and if you've ever lived in Oregon then you understand the trepidation you take the beginning of spring with.  It may be 70° and miraculously sunny outside right now, but it could be 40° and rainy tomorrow morning.  I'm hopefully optimistic that tomorrow will be sunny too, but I'm realistic at the same time.

Regardless, once the spring days start showing their face, all I pray for is more sunshine.  More warm days.  More opportunities to fix my serious "I live in Oregon" vitamin D deficiency.  I don't pray for rain.  I don't even pray for rain in the winter.

Perhaps that is why this verse stood out to me Sunday.  The title for this chapter in Zechariah is "The Lord Will Restore His People."  

Zechariah 10:1
"Ask the Lord for rain in the spring, for he makes the storm clouds.  And he will send showers of rain so every field becomes a lush pasture."

I thought this page by Ron Daniel describes it well. 

"Ask For Rain
He says, "Ask the Lord for rain." Why would someone pray for rain? Here in Wyoming, that's a silly question, isn't it? As a matter of fact, unless you've got a giant fresh water river running through town that never runs dry, we all need rain.

Rain is a need, not a want. A necessity of life, not a frivolous extra. Jesus taught us,
Matt. 6:8-11 "Therefore do not be like them; for your Father knows what you need, before you ask Him.

Of course the instruction continues, but here we see that our example for asking in prayer is for our daily bread. Asking for rain is like asking for daily bread. It's not asking for riches and power. Not even asking for our weekly bread. But just enough for today, just what we need for life right now."

But I have a feeling that this "rain" is a little more specific.  Or maybe just for me.  I think this is specific instructions for us/me to ask for challenges.  To ask for life situations that I don't necessarily want, but that will stretch me into the person God has created me to be.  And not a "Lord, keep my life easy" kind of prayer, but a "Lord, challenge me this week so I can shine for you."

We're supposed to ask for these thing.  Not just wait for them to come to us.  Despite how counter-culture that seems to me, that's what I think it's saying.  Not that we can't ask for good things too--and we should, but those challenging situations are where real growth happens.

I also love the symbolism of crying out for rain, rain falling, and then having the showers make everything into lush pastures.  I think these life challenges bring healing rain with them.  Rain that washes away the drought and brings bright, vibrant colors to everything it touches.

A spring full with sunshine and showers.