Serve God. Save the planet.

Whenever I am tempted to buy something, I ask myself, "Will it bring me closer to God?" The average person is exposed to three thousand advertisements a day through radio, TV, newspapers, bus signs, billboards, Internet, magazines, and store windows. Many of us have access to cash or credit. What will we buy? Our culture shouts and screams just one thing: consume. How do we resist the world's cornucopia of goods, services, and merchandise when we are told by every input, both conscious and subconscious, that there is some thing that will make our lives just a little bit better, fuller, or more convenient? How do we resist the temptation of a laptop that is 5/8 of an inch thinner than the one we curretnly own and were thrilled to own twelve months ago? Haven't we denied ourselves a giant-screen TV... or a flat-screen LCD... or a plasma-screen TV long enough? What's the harm of one more pair of shoes to go with the new dress bought last week? And what about a purse?
Where is God in all of this consumer rumination? If you haven't found God at home, will he be more likely to inhabit a vacation home?...
The Christian is not at liberty to do whatever he likes. Christians are constrained by conviction to think about their lives, their actions, and their responsibilities. One of the litmus tests for a decision is: Does this action, saying, movie, etc., bring me closer to God? The more this question is entertain, pondered, and posed, the closer to God a Christian will find himself. ...
We exist in a living, created world in which the Bible tells us that God knows every scale on a fish, every hair on our head, and the flight of every sparrow. We are to aspire to all things godly; therefore, it would be wrong to go through life in an unthinking or uncaring way. Similarly, we are are not to ruminate or worry excessively. Try to keep a balance and harmony, seeking in all things to grow closer to the joyous bounty that God has provided in his natural world.
Now lets talk about food.

Food for Thought
  Two thousand years ago, Christ was born in a barn and laid in a feed box. This was a humble beginning, but not a cruel or unsafe one. In contrast, no one on the planet would want to give birth to a child in a modern factory barn. There are many industrial farms in our land in which animals never see a star, feel the warmth of the sun, or enjoy the rain. They live unable to lie down, suckle from their mothers, or mate. Animals that God created as vegetarians, such as cows, are fed other cows that have been industrially processed. In order to survive, they are given antibiotics and supplements. Dairy cows are injected with hormones that cause their udders to swell and produce more milk.
Surely if the God in heaven is the author of our Bible, he is dispelased with the treatment of animals in industrial farms. To excuse this sort of mistreatment, some quote the "dominion" phrase out of context. They ignore the Bible's hundreds of guidelines about the ethical treatment of animals....
Our current food supply is largely a product of the consumer movement that grew in the 1960s and 1970s. It started for good reasons, and with the best of intentions. But when consumerism becomes the driving ethic, it has only one commandment: Get the most by paying the least. In this system, dignity, ethics, beauty, fairness, and families that live on small farms do not figure. The only line is the bottom line...
To obtain billions of hamburger patties for a few  ents each, America's fast-food restaurants buy much of their meat from Central and South American farmers. These farmers clear-cut forests, often starting a cattle-raising process that can be sustained for only a few short years. The loss of rain forestes in South America means that the clouds they once made no longer blow across the Atlantic to drop their water on Africa. As a result, the Sahara grows by thousands of acres a year. What is the bottom line for Africans? More starvation. And the bottom line for Americans? Cheap burgers and growing waistlines. ...
To fight world hunger we need to do more than spend money to relief organizations, although that is a vital part., We need to change the manner in which we eat.

-These are a couple of experts from J. Matthew Sleeth's book Serve God Save the Planet.
There are some really great things to think about in this book. It's not just about fighting world hunger. it's about fighting for our planet. About being more in tune with God and the things he created to nourish and sustain us. And it helps you think about what you can do in your own life to live a little more intentionally. 

Alright... Off my soapbox. Preachy preachy. Sorry. But really. Burgers- cows- South America- clear cutting- no rainclouds- bigger African dessert- starvation. The butterfly effect, man. It happens. 

I hug fat trees.

Right now, in these recent days, I have been met with a serious urgency to be an activist for God's creation and caring for the planet. I am also met with a delicacy of this new passion He has put before me. There are so many political and religious things intertwined with talk of environmentalism. There are so many facest and tangets you could go off on.
I remember learning how to use a recycling bin and why we recycled in grade school. I remember learning to look on a package or bottle to know if it is recyclable or not. I remember learning in detail how composting works when I started working at Whole Foods in Seattle just a few short years ago. I am afraid to say, though, that none of this really struck a chord in me. My larger ignorance kept me from caring very much. Trash, recycling, yadda yadda. Got it. If my plastic bottle ends up in the recycling bin that's good. If it doesn't, then oh well. I'm sure tens of thousands end up in the trash, and my one bottle wont make a difference. I'm sure tens of thousands also end up in the recycling bin, and that WILL make a difference. It doesn't really have a whole lot to do with me.
How many years have people been calling me a "hippie"? For whatever reason that subculture stereotype gets pinned on me, being pro-environmentalism should be one of them, right? Not exactly.
Until recently.
To tell you the truth, the more I have been diving into my bible over the past few months the more I am seeing Gods hand in our planet... and, the more I am met with an urgency to save it and preserve it in whatever way is possible at this point. This is a sacred, and spiritual place.
In Genesis He called us to steward the Earth. He told Adam and Eve to work and take care of it. He has asked us to give the Earth rest ever seventh year, and judged Israel for not following his commands.
"The land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants. Throughout the country that you hold as a possession, you must provide for the redemption of the land" (Lev. 25:23-24)
"The earth is the LORD'S, and everything in it." (Ps. 24:1). 

That whole Genesis part in the bible is where it seems so many Christians have gotten it wrong. Dominion over the Earth doesn't mean to rape and deplete it for our own resources. To steward and rule over this planet means to care for it in every way that we can. God mad this place to provide for us, and we must provide in return.
And while we're at it, lets talk about the "end times". I don't think, folks, that we're going to end up playing harps in the clouds.  Know I know this has been said before, it's certainly not news... but seriously. Can you imagine how boring that'd be? I'd rather stare at mountains than clouds all day.

Rev. 21:3-5 says "And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” ⁵ He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 

God is going to make everything NEW! He's going to restore this Earth. We're not going to a new place. He's bring the Kingdom of Heaven here to Earth. "God's dwelling place is among the people". How great is that? If that's happening, then this planet must be a pretty spectacular place. 

To be honest with you I can't imagine being a Christian and not a hyped up environmentalist, too. I also can't imagine someone who doesn't believe in the God of Christ and being quite as passionate for environmentalism than a Christian could be. I don't mean any disrespect in that way. But if there is nothing to look forward to for ourselves or our families, than really what IS the point? We'll all die anyway. But God gives us a reason to live and a reason to be passionate about our lives and the future lives of our families, and the life of this great planet we live on. 
Pearly gates? Shoot. Heaven is coming to Earth. Screw the pearly gates. I'm going hiking. And with my Grandpa Bob. We'll talk about all sorts of things we didn't get a chance to since I was, you know, one year old when he passed.

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven."

But how do I get my brothers and sisters on this planet to understand the weight of how important it is to care for creation? I struggle with some thoughts along side Anna Clark as I read in an essay she wrote about the environment.

"When I first started sharing my convictions about the environment, I thought, If I can just make people understand that saving the planet is the most critical issue of our time, we might all be okay, not understanding how sheltered and lopsided that point of view appears to many people. Try telling a mother whose child is terminally ill that melting glaciers should matter to her. Try telling a breadwinner who fears losing his job about the plight of the polar bear. Try telling a fundamentalist Christian who sees the end times as imminent that she should care about preserving the planet."

So much passion for this planet is stirred inside me. I want to be able to tell everyone that this is an important issue, and I want them to BELIEVE ME! But if they don't I sort of get it. I was once there too. I didn't care too much and I don't think anyone could have convinced me to care except for God himself. That has humbled me. I will not stand on the street corners and try to get strangers to sign up for GreenPeace. I will not glare at any persons for their ignorance towards environmentalism. I am humbled by my own ignorance and I now find myself searching for a delicate balance. I will NOT be an in-your-face environmentalist. And you know what, I will not be a perfect one either. I might throw something that could have been recycled in the trash accidentally. I might forget to turn off the light before I leave. I might do a lot of things, but I sure as hell am going to try not to. And I'm going to do my darnest to care for creation and pray for the awakening of unseen passions in the people around me. 


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And may I remind you that care for creation doen't begin or end with recycling and shutting of lights. It's got to do with coal mining (gosh, that's doing so much to water and HUMANS that is horribly devastating. Irreversible things. People are dying). It has to do with Monsanto and their sick way of realigning and adding things to the genes of food and modifying them to fit their own sick ways of business. It has to taking the untouched places of the planet that have a chance to remain as they are intended to be, and then tying to pollute that place with dams and structures all in the name of progression. It has to do with over-fishing and throwing off the entire ecosystem of the ocean. It has to do with the fact that millions and millions of forest trees are cut down per YEAR. It has to do with a lot of things. And I think there is something more specifically that strikes a chord in each of us. It's just a matter of finding it.

The woes of a cyclist

If you are a motorist who frequently, or hell, even infrequently, encounters a bicyclist whilst driving, pretty please let me give you a few tips on how to go about this encounter.

First of all, if they're on the road and not the sidewalk be thankful. Yes, be thankful. Sidewalks are for walking and it's actually significantly more dangerous to be riding your bike on a sidewalk. Between other pedestrians and how fast one approaches the cross street on the bicycle (cars won't see the bicyclist as easily as they would see a slow-approaching pedestrian) it's just a recipe for hazard. I'm tellin' ya.

Now, a cyclist on the road should be following the rules of the road. They should be going the correct way down one-way streets, they should be stopping at stop signs and waiting their turn, and they should NOT be riding towards traffic, they should be riding with the flow of traffic on the right side of the road. If a cyclist on the road is not doing these things, then shake your head and your finger at them. Shame, shame to the non-law-abiding cyclists. They're creating more danger for themselves.

If you DO, however, encounter someone on a bike who is following the rules of the road here are a few things you should NOT do. Let's come up with a few scenarios here:

You come to a stop at a stop sign, and then the cyclist comes to the stop sign at the cross-street, STOP waiting for the cyclist to go first. Especially in the dark. I... ehhem, I mean, the cyclist, cannot see what you're trying doing in the dark. You could be waving for him to go, or you could be texting on your phone soon to hit that gas pedal and smash someones head into a bloody pulp. Sorry to be so graphic, but this is what we're dealing with here folks. Rules of the road: You get to the sign first, you go first.
Doing this makes the cyclist have to stop for an extended period of time at the sign to wait for the driver to go. The cyclist loses momentum and it's a pain in the butt to get back to it sometimes when there is, say, a hill right ahead of them.

If you see a cyclist on the right shoulder of the road... DONT PANIC! Driving slowly behind the biker because you have no clue what to do is not actually safer. Just turn your wheels slightly to the left as you gently pass by the person on the bike. It makes everyone happier, trust me. You get to go, and the biker doesn't have someone tailing them for two miles. The cyclist knows that you're an unsafe car to be around by the mere fact that you're terrified to pass him. Just pass him already.

Stop waiting for the cyclist to go first at the stop sign!

There is actually plenty of room on most roads these days for a bike on the shoulder. You may pass a cyclist and wonder why they aren't squeezed over to the side farthest away from the cars. I used to wonder that as a kid. There's PLENTY of room by the curb, right? Actually, there debris, potholes, sticks, puddles, cracks, and all sorts of other unfriendly things nearest the curb of the road. A ride near the curb of the road could mean a blown tire, and right as your passing by the biker loses control because of the blown tire and crashes into a bloody mess right under your car. No fun. Not for anyone. That is why we keep a relatively safe distance from the very edge of the road.

You see, a cyclist should follow the rules of the road. Therefore, if you come to a stop sign first and see a cyclist coming down the opposite street to where there is also a stop sign, GO. Do not go to jail, do not honk your horn, do not collect $200. Do not wait for the cyclist to just keep going. Be aware of them, but just follow the rules of the road.

There are some commonly-known hand signals that cyclist should use. If they're turning left they will put out their left arm straight to signal their left turn. If they are turning right they will put out their left arm at a right angle to signal their right turn. Pay attention.

If you see a cyclist at a stop sign, go when it is your turn. Stop looking at them as if they're just going to glide right in the middle of a four-way stop sign. It's a death-wish. They know it. And generally most cyclists I know don't wish to find themselves under your car. So, if you encounter a cyclist at a stop sign... go when it's your turn.
You have full rights to be just as road rage-y at them if they go when it's not their turn as you do at the common motorist who goes at a stop-sign when it's not their turn.

Oh, and one more. If you encounter a cyclist at a stop sign, go when it's your turn. I don't know if I mentioned that one yet.

Most people who bike on the road are not idiots. They want to keep their life, and they'd rather not be the consistency of stew by the end of their ride. Full human form is best. They are paying attention to every car on the road more than you realize. They are looking at your eyes when you leave your driveway to make sure they see you, they are trying to make eye-contact with you at stop-signs. They listen for you behind them, and they watch you in front of them. They are prepared to stop fast, doge a corner, and get out of the way. They look for your headlights and tail-lights at night. They probably more keenly aware of whats going on on the road than you are in your car. This is good to know so that you can stop treating the cyclist like they are a four-year old who just got their training wheeled taken off.

This may or may not have just come from a slightly frustrating bike ride home from work.
Good night, and good morning.
And try hoping on a bike now and then. It's good for ya'.

Creation sees You, and starts composing

"Holy, holy, holy, holy Lord, the Earth is Yours
and singing."

I am weeping. I am sitting in my bedroom and I am weeping because this song has brought such an overwhelming emotion to my heart. Gungor has created such a simple song, simply repetitive, and outstandingly moving in it's truth. The Earth is the Lord's, and it's singing. Literally the Earth sings at every moment. The birds sing, the wind blows, and trees clap their leaves and it is all a melody. This place we live in and are surrounded by is one of the GREATEST works of art of the God. He has woven together the branches of the trees and packed the dirt in it's place. He molded rocks and carved out canyons. He raised mountains and made them beautiful. He made them so beautiful, in fact, that we go to the great lengths to see the beauty of the world because it takes our breath away. That melody that the earth sings to the Lord strikes a chord in our own hearts.
I am weeping, though, not just because of this beauty and greatness, but because of the utter destruction that is happening to such a delicate work of art. I close my eyes and see mountain tops blown to smithereens for coal. Trees cut down to make way for miles of concrete whether it be a city foundation or more roads. I cry for these things. I cry for God's creation.
Yes, there is an environmentalist in me raging because of these things, but this is not why I'm writing about it. I am not writing to go on a tangent and try to get you all to sign a petition to stop mountain top removal mining (although that would give me great joy). That is not totally why this emotion takes me over. Simply put, I weep for all the things that have covered over His creation.
I sat here and cried sorrowfully to God for raping the Earth when actually we are supposed to steward the Earth.
And yet, the Earth is still singing. THAT is how big He is.
The canyons being blocked and filled with dams, and the mountains being blown to bits. The plains being covered with concrete, and the shores lined with skyscrapers. Yet, and YET!
Holy holy holy Lord. The Earth is Yours.... and singing. Still.

This is the song with lyrics. I really encourage you to listen. Click me.

Stankin' dirty

I was thinking recently about how I kept telling everyone, "I'm going on vacation", but it didn't really feel like vacation. When I was in the thick of it, when I was sleeping in my car, waking up sweating in my tent, cleaning my utensils in grass (which I like to call nature's napkin), and driving for hours on end I feel like that is my life. I feel like the life I live in now where I clock in and go mostly to and from home and a job is sort of vacating from my real life. I thrive in my real life. I thrive in nature and on the road.
After I cleaned the last week off of me in the shower today I stepped out and looked in the mirror. It was weird seeing myself all clean. In Kentucky I peered into the mirror and saw a nappy, knoted head of hair sitting atop a face with faintly fresh freckles from the sun. Dewey sweat sat atop my nose, and everywhere was dirty. I feel most beautiful in those moments. I feel most natural and in my element. Comparatively I feel at my least when I am done up. If I end up putting on makeup it lasts for only a few hours before I rub it off. It feels uncomfortable when I am so clean because I don't feel ready for much. I feel like I have to protect my cleanness. Biking or running is only going to mess it up. I hate thinking like that! When you're dirty, you're already dirty, so just keep on getting dirty. It feels good to sweat when you just don't care about what shirt your pitting out, or how you're going to smell to the customers at work. When you're dirty because you're outside in nature, it's just the way it is. It's natural. And I think I probably speak for mostly just myself when I say this, but I'll say it again... I feel most beautiful when I am dirty, camping, sweating, and just being plain old stanky.
I cannot wait for the day that comes again where I can be in a community of people who stink. Who walk up to me and tell me, "You're too clean", because that actually did happen my first day in Kentucky. I cannot wait to sweat again in places I never knew I could sweat.
Gosh. I love what nature does to me. I could do without the freakishly evenly scattered chigger bites ALL OVER my legs, but the rest I want to do with. I want to do with for a long, long time.

Group. Blind. Date.

Timing is a funny thing. It can be everything. It can be nothing at all. It can be excruciatingly long and it can just fly by us. It ages us. It's a thing... but it's kind of not. It's also just an idea. Time.
Today timing was a key element in making a hilariously enjoyable end to my day.

A couple of my house mates and I were sitting around talking this evening. Annie was cutting up vegetables, Ginny was preparing for her day, and I was sitting on the floor drinking wine (this is what my days have come to). Somehow our talking evolves into these elaborate ideas of... ready?... Group Blind Dates. We were coming up with the most grandiose ideas here. The main idea was that we would each set one another up with blind dates. We talked about prospects of different men for awhile. Who would go with who? Of course we couldn't go into too much detail here. It's supposed to be a blind date. Then, what are the rules? Can we say who we'd like to be set up with in hopes that our fellow room mates would choose that person for us? Can we say who we absolutely don't want to be set up on a blind date with? We agreed upon not being able to give out hints of who we hope for, but certainly we would be allowed to avoid being paired along with someone we are certain we would not go well with. Boundaries, guys. Boundaries.
Then it went on to how the dates would go. The idea of just going out to dinner somewhere is not all so exciting. Would the setter-uppers plan the date as well? Would it be a group date where we all go out together? Would we do a group date first, and then single dates afterward if all went well with the particular date?
Finally the consensus was a date in the city. It starts out with everyone separate (couples together, of course) and we end up in a place to dine together at the end of our day via a scavenger hunt. That way these blind dates get to go through some problem solving together, thus deepening the relationship and finding out if compatibility exists earlier than, say, after the 4th boring dinner date. Wins all over the place.
Now we run into the problem of how to find these men. Do we choose them from our churches? Surely we would then know these guys at least a little bit already if we chose them from a community we already had. Do we choose them from other churches? We'd need a little outside help with that. We've got to choose someone who's at least knowingly compatible in some way or another with the roomie we're setting him up with. We would need a networker. Someone who knows everyone else. Yes. Yes, that would be ideal. Where do we find that?
My mind wandered to all the people I meet at my job. I shared this with Ginny and Annie. "There are a lot of good looking, nice men who come in there that could be prospects, guys." It's true. Then I remembered someone particularly memorable from the night before while I was working. I was working the register and a man walked up to my empty line. I asked if he was ready yet and he told me, almost. He needed to find the applesauce and I could probably help him. Well he was right. I pointed him towards the right aisle and I told him which side it would be down. He repeated me to make sure he knew, to which I threw my hands up in the air and said, "You know, I'm not supposed to leave here but why I don't just take you." A rebel I am, and he pointed that out. To the applesauce we went.
Later on after I rung up a few more customers this man came to my line. Another cashier offered to ring him up but he declined the offer to stay in my line. I thought that was awfully nice of him. It's always nice to finish something you started, even if it's just a small interaction with that girl who helped you at the grocery store.
Once his turn came around we chatted a bit about applesauce and almond meal and what sorts of things you can make with almond meal. It was a relaxing and pleasant interaction.
I told Ginny and Annie that I could set them up with someone like that when I meet people in my line at Trader Joe's. I gave Annie the eye thinking about setting the two of them up, realizing how far-fetched it was, "He was really handsome, with nice blue eyes [wink]. I could tell he was a great guy. Now the only problem with finding guys that way s is it's hard to know about the whole Jesus thing." They both agreed, and we continued conspiring and giggling at ourselves about our Group Blind Date. It would go global! It would catch on and other people would get involved to meet others this way. Man, we're good. We knew it.
About twenty minutes passed by. I poured myself another glass of wine and repositioned myself on the floor in the doorway of my bedroom. Lauren was then home sitting around the dining room with us and, hark! What is that? A knock on the front door. Lauren looked out the window, waved, and let her friend in.
Drinking my wine, Lauren introduced me to her friend who is also friends with Annie, who also knows Ginny. We looked up to meet each others acquaintance and found that... well, we already have met each others acquaintance.
"Waaaait a second," He said, "You helped me find apple sauce yesterday!"

What happens in the snack aisle don't really stay in the snack aisle

Every other day is a hard day.
I can't quite put into words the thoughts I have. It feels like a sort of depression I'm in. People at work keep telling me how chipper I am, and joyful I seem all the time. How I look at the good things. That's is truly all of the Lord shining out through me. The feeling of much of my spirit is losing juice.
Why am I here? I ask again as I stock chips in the snack aisle. I pray, "Lord, I can't be here. Please help me. Send me someone, something, help me, please." I ride my bike down the same roads daily, and I know it's going to be that way for months. I only see the same time of day every day. I don't get to see the sun come up, or the sun go down. I miss seasons of the day.
I feel consumed by my surroundings, even though I try so hard not to be.
I don't feel challenged... let me explain. I feel challenged in the way that I am speaking of, being here. But that challenge makes me want to lay limp like a dead fish. If I do get challenged in any other way, I won't have the life in me to take it on. That's a depressing thought.
All I have to do when I am stocking those shelves is get lost inside my own head. I help customers, and then I stock cereal and my mind reels. Perhaps my mind would have more to write about than this if it had time to reel elsewhere; Somewhere challenging and adventurous.

Today after finishing one customers groceries I was met with a white-haired older woman. She put her basket down on the shelf and stood there as if to observe me and for me to observe here. It was a little strange, but so endearing as she stood there dressed in all white, hands clasped in front of her, and smiling huge.
She walked over to the other side of the counter and watched me.Then she spoke so softly. She had a quiviling voice, very quiet and old. She sounded like she had almost lost her voice completely... except for that one fact that I could faintly hear here. Somehow still, she spoke strongly. Her spirit was strong.
"Are you an artist?"
I looked up delightly suprised, "I am, actually!"
She looked back at me with knowing in her eyes, "I am too. I taught at the art institute for twenty years."
I enjoyed her. I ask what kind of artist she is.
Softly, she responded with such joy and confidence, "I am a writer".
"Me too!" I said this, surprised at myself. If she would have asked me that question first I would have had to think about it. I would have said something like.... I like to make mosaics? So certain I am an artist, yet so unsure of my medium. How silly. But there I was, just as certain as she was. Just as certain as she is. And she was ecstatic that I was a writer as well. She asked what I liked to write. Non-fiction, creative non-fiction, I told here. She did too. Her enjoyment of this conversation grew bubbly. I followed. There was a bond there that is hard to explain.
"We are so blessed," she said, "Never quite. Write every day. Don't ever forget."
She said it over and over again emotionally, as if it were the scene in the end of Titanic where Rose promises she'll "never let go", only less cheesy and freakishly real.
"Don't ever for get. How blessed we are. Write, and write every day."
I looked at her, "It's really good to be reminded of that."
She looked back at me still smiling, with her soft voice, "May God bless you very much."
She walked away with her white hair, dressed in all white, smiling brightly looking back at me over her shoulder, "Don't ever forget". I had to snap back into reality when the next customer walked up.

I have pretty neat interactions with people. Things that I love to write about and talk about. Things that give me hope in the world. Not often have I had an experience with a person that made that moment in time I had with them feel like a bubble outside of worldly reality. There was a spirituality in that which almost freaked me out. I wanted to hug her. I still do. I can't quite explain it. I so wish I could.

Then I went to stock the chip aisle....
Here we go again...

Piece of dirt? Why yes, I am.

I was looking down at the metal grade beneath my feet which I walked on. A hundred feet or so below the sight of my pink toenails and dirty feet was the Illinois River. I walked over it, not looking for too long or I'd lose my balance and topple towards the bicycle I supported with my right hand. A pick-up truck with a boat following zoomed past me and I jolted a bit, stopped, and smiled as I re-gained my balance. There was but a few feet between me and cars, and inches between the bike I was walking and the shoulder of the bridge we crossed together. It arched up a bit in that way bridges do. I encountered all sorts of little goodies along my walk across it: tattered clothing, fishing lines, old shoes, plastic something-or-others. When I reached the end of the bridge the decline in elevation had still a bit further to go. Looming over the end of that downhill was a massive incline. Fast cars whipped around a curve and I couldn't exactly tell how long that up-hill went for, but I looked at it straight on and said aloud to myself, "here I go", as I saddled up on my bike and headed straight for it along the road's shoulder.
Exhilarating was launch. I peddled hard to keep my speed while grinning a giggly grin. You know that kind you just can't wipe off? I know it all too well from any sort of downhill cycling exploration.
Once I started to reach the beginning of the incline I switched gears, and soon I switched again. I got into my lowest gear and put all my muscle into this bad boy. Pumping hard, the grin was replaced with a very serious game-face. I focused on one pedal at a time synchronizing it with steady breathing. I focused not on how difficult the hill was making my life, but on how amazing it was that I had just climbed that hill on two wheels, how God made our bodies beautiful, how I. am. awesome. Conceit, there was none of. You have to tell yourself you're awesome when you're doing something tough. Your body listens to your mind. I've been on some difficult runs through the Rockies that I wouldn't have finished if I didn't tell myself how amazing my body was through the entirety of the run. Truly. All of the sudden I was at the top of this looming hill faster than I had anticipated. It was amazing that I had climbed that hill so thoughtfully, reaching the top, then as soon as I put my mind to rest rolling along flat road my body started to weaken. I felt shaky and light-headed. I could hear my body, "alright Mind, I heard ya', I listened to ya', we got up the hill. Now listen to your Body and make a little pit stop, woodgya?" You got it.
I pulled over and lay flat on my back in the grass staring up at the opaque Midwestern sky. It was white with deepening pale-blue waves throughout. There is no more a satisfying moment than accomplishing something with your mind and your body in cahoots with each other, and then stopping to nurture them both. I drank my water, I ate my Cliff bar, and I reveled in the beauty I was surrounded by as my body slowly repaired enough to bike my way back to my campsite.
Each time I do something like that I remember why I love riding my bike, running, hiking mountains that peak in the sky. There is a deep connection with body, soul, mind, nature, that these things force you to have if you want to succeed.
With each of these things I am brought close to my Lord.

"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret,
intricatly woven in the depths of the earth."

PS. We are God-breathed dirt. We are formed from this earth. We are intricately a part of this earth. This is no metaphor, God-breathed dirt. This is what we come from. And if you want to know any of the amazingness of dirt I recommend "Dirt! The Movie" (Netflix, man), but more so than this incredible substance that covers the earth from which we were made, we are also made in His image and God-breathed. No wonder we have such a connection with nature.
Take care of your God-breathed body. It's sacred. Even more sacred than the earth we live in. Don't litter the earth, don't litter your body. For you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

The Christians who are dooming the world. Need I say more? Yes, actually

Napverville.... come ON now. I don't even know what to say.
Already I don't really like Naperville, and I feel the liberty to truly say that since I lived there. I realize not EVERYONE has their nose stuck up in the air in that city, but a lot of them do.
Since I've moved back to the suburbs from the mountains I have done my darn best to stay away from that city. The drivers get meaner there, the skin gets more cancerous there (tanning beds), the makeup gets thicker, the douche bags get douchier. You get the picture. It just is. I don't like even merely walking the sidewalks. But that is not the point of this.
The point is the closest Barnes N Noble to me is in Naperville, and I was doomed to drive into the depths of this city to go browse the books. This time around my experience wasn't turning out so bad. I went in, I browsed, (the guy at the checkout line had some serious anger issues, but nobody's perfect) and I walked out holding the door for a couple of folks walking in. Just about to turn the corner for my escape those couple of folks came charging around after me introducing themselves as So-and-so Blah-Blah from the Theological Yadda-Yadda there in downtown Naperville. Okay, I thought, this aught'a be interesting. And, on she goes. And on and on and on and on, "Yadda yadda blah blah, over and over and some more blah blah, and the bible says that God represents both male and female, so he has a feminine side as well. So what are your thoughts on that?"
Let's get a clearer picture of not only what I'm hearing, but what I'm looking at. I'm looking at a trendy girl with point to make. She's standing with one foot closer to me and the other foot back, and from the waist up she is leaning at me, talking at me (not to me, there's a big difference), uncomfortably close to my face, looking me straight in the eye. If she's actually a friendly person, she didn't show it. It seemed like she was ready for a fight.
Back to the "conversation". I respond to her inquiry, "Well that's a really broad thing to just give my thoughts on all of the sudden. Can you narrow down what you're looking for a little bit?" That's a pretty direct question, right? You'd think a direct answer would be simple. But on she goes, "Well, the bible says that yadda yadda blah blah blah blah blah, and blah blah, and Jesus is coming a second time, and he already came once, so when he comes again that will be the second coming of Christ, so blah blah blah blah blah. Are you a Christian?"
"Well, yeah, actually," I responded.
"Would you be interested in getting together to talk about this more?"
"Not really. I have my own church and community that I'm a part of. I'm actually not really interested in talking about this right now, either."
That was a shocker. She was ready for defense at this point.
What would be the proper response to someone who you bothered on the street corner minding their own business who said that they didn't want to continue the conversation? Say, "thank you for your time", and be on your way. What's the very, very wrong way to respond to this? Look to the woman in my face...
"Well the bible says that Jesus is coming a second time, yadda yadda yadda yadda yadda yadda yadda, and on and on and on and on............................" I kid you not, she talked so much I really just stopped listening.
I interrupted getting a bit angry at this point, "Okay, so what is your point here? Are you trying to 'save' me? I told you that I am already a Christan and I'm still not interested in talking about this with  you. So can you tell me what the point of all of this is right now? I came in to get my book and go home. Now I want to go home. I'm not interested in this conversation." How many times do I have to say it?
It became clear that everything I say to her went in one ear and out the other, and her voice got louder and more dominant, "Jesus is coming a second time................... blah blah..................... blah blah...............[more loud talking at me]"
I interrupted again, "Listen, I told you I have a church and a community who I can talk to this stuff about if I want to, and right now I don't."
There was a man who was standing off to the left of her and a little bit behind her, her back-up. Finally she gave up on my salvation and looked back at him. He chimed in saying the exact things that this girl kept repeating over, and over, and over, and over again to me about Jesus' second coming, and ends with, "We really need you to just consider this".
Did I NOT just tell you that I wasn't interested in talking about this? Did I not just say that I had a church and community of other Christian folk? Because it sure as hell sounds to me like you're still trying to save my soul? Have you no ears or eyes?
What really gets to me is that these people are walking the street so of Naperville doing whatever they're trying to do, in people's faces, and refusing to listen to the other person. They are so ready for a fight, for someone to disagree, and they can't even tell when someone is NOT disagreeing, they just simply don't wish to engage when someone pulls them away from their day and refuses to let them go.
These people are representing Christians. It really makes my blood boil. That was far from a Christ-like encounter, and in the name of Christianity.
I'm having horrible flashbacks to prayer and witnessing nights in high school going on the streets with other youth group members and talking to people in Naperville about Jesus. Let's see how impersonal we can make Christianity. Let's see how annoying we can be. I actually ache for the people that get encountered on those sorts of things. What a travesty.
I do commend the courage it takes to walk up to someone and just start doing that. I do commend the passion one must have to do this in such a way. But really don't agree with it. Maybe in another time, another place, or another culture. Not here, guys, not here.
Not only is it pissing off those who are not Christians, but it's pissing off those who are.
I still have no idea what the student's point was. They were very defensive and kind of offended by the end of the "conversation", which is a shocker. They're offended? Who pulled me away and talked at me in my face with disregard to anything I had to say?
After the man told me to "consider this" I stared at him with my eyebrows raised and said, "Okay" in an angry tone, and walked away. My grace was gone. I had none for them. Not entirely Christ-like on my end either, but it seemed as though there was no other way to escape.
Who is raising up Christians like this? I'd like to write a letter and let them know what's on my mind.

Looking through these windows

There are many things Facebook is not good for. Two weeks ago I took a week off from the F-book and barely want to go back on for some of these good-for-nothing reasons. What, might you ask, are some of these things? Well, there is the obvious, of course. There is the fact that it starts to slowly suck up more time than you had ever planned it would, that it is an easy thing to jump onto when you're bored.
Things that I wasn't expecting to feel when I finally signed back into Facebook after that 7th day, though, have become more reason than the rest for me to want to stay away: Envy, nostalgia, longing, sadness. It mostly has to do with where I am at in my life right now. I'm sure not everyone signs onto Facebook and has a rush of these feelings being sent through every vein in their body. My news feed is packed with those Colorado friends of mine doing awesome things, going awesome places. Photographs of big rocks, and mountain landscapes, wild animals. Then I look out my window which sits behind my computer screen and see a lattice fence, a big house, but just a sliver of sky. My front door? More houses, fancy cars. Out my windows at work? A Starbucks drive-thru, stoplights, more fancy cars, giant grocery stores.
When I looked out my windows in Colorado I saw herds of elk, Mt. Ypsylon towering over the surrounding snow-caps, bathing in the sun. I saw trees and trees and trees. My heart is aching in pain thinking about it all.
The excitement and freshness of being in a new place (I use "new" loosely) has now officially worn off. No longer do I feel like I'm on another adventure in life. I feel like I live in the Chicago Suburbs. I feel horribly different from the people around me. I feel like I don't really fit in anywhere here. I can't get out to anywhere that gives me life until I jump in my car and drive at least two hours away, but the mind of the culture here in the suburbs is to keep you close by making these gas prices ungodly high. That way you don't go too far. You keep close to the shopping malls, salons, fancy restaurants and expensive coffee shops. A day off here is going to get ice cream, going out to eat, or some other form of spending money.
What was a day off in Colorado? Mountains. Nature, activity.
I know God is everywhere. He is omnipresent. He meets you where you need to be met. But I am having trouble finding him here. My most glorious experiences of God is in the nature of the world around us. I see His bigness in those Mountains and rock formations, and his delicacy in wild flowers and small wild animals. His strength in the elk and mountain lion, and the rushing rivers. God surrounds me while I'm traveling in adventure whether I like it or not, whether I ask for him to or not. He's there.
Now I'm in a culture that doesn't really celebrate that part of the world. God's artwork has been striped and replaced with four, five, six-lane highways, big buildings, and car dealerships. I'm sitting in a cafe now, and looking out this particular window I see the neighboring store: Autumn Woods. Nice, right? Actually it's a home furnishing store. "Kitchens, Bathrooms, Bars, Entertainment, Counter-tops, Home office". Everything you need to stay couped up in your air conditioned house and never leave.
It feels like a part of me is dying inside. I listened to God when he asked me to move here for community, for whatever the hell it is that he want's me here for. It was exciting not to know. But now I'm here. I'm living day to day, hour to hour. I had a dream last night that I moved back to Colorado. I was SO excited to be going back so soon. As soon as I had unpacked all my things, I plopped down in my bed and realized that I had made a HUGE mistake. I had to get back to Illinois and I had no idea what for.
What's going on here? I don't want to just wait around for some big awesome thing to be happening. I want to live my life, but I don't know what that looks like here, now. I know that part of me is just waiting for whatever to happen so that I can leave and get on with my life. That's not right either. But I'm afraid my soul might die here before I can ever start to find life in this place.
Holding back my tears in this public place, I pray God, please meet me here. I have so much more to pray for, but have lost the ability to express it.