HOME

Home means something different to everyone. For me, home is four people I am blessed to live life with.

Home is a twenty year old, vegetarian, bride in tears, trying to be a good wife and make beef tacos for her new husband. She stopped crying and I was a vegetarian for the next 10 years.

Home is true tickle-tackles from a sister threesome ganging up on dad, and tumbling into a pile of 13 loads of clean laundry strewn on the bedroom floor. We wear clean clothes that find their place off the shelves and out of the dressers. What can I say, we all loath folding laundry.

Home is hours of chalk games drawn on the driveway, jimmy-rigged zip lines, blue hammock swings, and choice trees to be personal space. The endless thoughts and creative minds of my home transforms ordinary space into a world of endless adventures.

Home is bedtime prayers, made up songs about apple tree, worms, poop, and barf, lullabies, stories when I was young, and whispers from my oldest, "I really am sorry I told you not to sing when I was little. I really do like your voice. No seriously, I do." I am not sure who she is trying to convince, me or herself. Nonetheless, it is a sweet way to close the bedroom door behind me.

Home is balled up on each end of the couch, early morning conversations with my wife while sipping coffee, and looking out the living room window. It is not what we are talking about, it is that we are talking. Conversations are sweet in the early of a new day.

Home means something different to everyone. Whether I lived in the forest, city, suburb, country, or the moon, it would not matter where, because home is the people I am blessed to live life with.

Home is that tear filled eye lid brimming over, rolling salty water down my cheek, while I write. I get a rush of heart-racing warmth when I think of home.

Home is my family.

If I were a pelican...

Pelicans are mysterious birds of old. If I were a pelican I think I would catch airstreams off Westcliff Drive and watch humans walking, running, and moving about with all their various transport devices. I would find humans quite interesting, pointing their strange mechanical gimmicks at me, attempting to catch me soaring, flapping, diving, and emerging from the ocean with beak full. Some capture moments but most misjudge my agility and ability to change course in a blink. My day would be full of watching. I would watch humans like a hawk (except my eyes aren’t quite as keen). In the early afternoon I would soar high, and in the later day I would catch the warm airstreams that stream off the cliffs. I would enjoy an occasional dip in the deep green bay and sitting upon the Monterey rocks that sit as private islands for those of the sea and air to share. If I were a pelican I think I would enjoy my days off Westcliff Drive. 

something fun about playing...

there is something fun about playing,
a delightful feeling that brims over.
it sometimes takes a lot to get me,
once i am caught i am free to laugh.

today i trudged through the towers,
my beastly companion by my side.
spears dodged as we trekked through
briars and wound our way passed.
passing knobby trippers, and rolling
obstacles placed from wind blown nights.
we found our way back.
he panted. i laughed in a hammock.

the day continued to yell to me, "come away!"
the dimmest whisper became a roar
as the ocean came into full view.
the sun spun bright above as the blue encircled.
as my bare feet sunk into the sizzling sand,
i spread my toes and ran to the surf.
waves tumbling in song, while the ancients
of the sky soared in airstreams above.
into the deep i swam, contending with the seals,
the sharks, the dolphins, and the otters.
we played well together. giving space to be us
amongst the kelp and green deep.

as i walked content back to my life
i smiled a full grin. shirt off, barefoot,
sidewalk strolling, back to my life, i smiled.
i thought, "there is something fun about playing."
i laughed out loud.
a woman watering her plants looked up and stared.
i smiled at her and said, "nice dahlias."
she smiled.

imperfect

i think it is funny how people always tuck in the label of others if it is flipped up and showing. there are always little imperfections. things we want to change about ourselves and ways we want to help others, but there is a beauty found in our imperfections. the dimpled chin you wish you didn't have, the need to wear glasses, thin hair, too thick, gain a few, lose a few, the shirt you wish fit differently, the tag that just stays up. little imperfections are the little unique things that make us all different. i like that my striped v-neck has an imperfect collar. it makes me smile. it would be great if we could learn to smile at our imperfections and others and choose to let them fit into the perfect love we have been given.

fingers-crossed *FELLOWSHIP?*

i believe everyone should be able to enter the man-made place where people choose to gather to enter into the presence of god. the place we call church. i often find that i have trouble being in the presence of god with the masses who gather on sundays to be with him for 55 minutes (give or take). some sundays it is the chairs, pews, aisles, amps, instruments, power point images, vibrating speaker, swaying screen from air conditioning left on, and other sundays it is the people. i try. i try to be in check. i try to dress it up or down, simply stay off the radar of criticism, banter, and awkward humor (to make god only knows who feel more comfortable), but i seemingly fail. i find i fit best in the forest. truly god's creation is my safest sanctuary. i use the word safest because i know that i can be at rest in the forest without fear of flying arrows from careless tongues. i saw this man outside church and thought immediately, "FASHION ICON!" and then i wondered, why is he outside during the service? what is he waiting for? teal hoodie, aqua pants, black velcro sneakers, silver bearded man, waiting for what? i find at church, i am waiting every week for something. i am waiting to just belong. beyond endearment and token acceptance, i am waiting to just feel respected. i want to feel energized rather than exhausted. i remember how rich it was to gather barefoot in the presence of god with believers in another land. i remember pastor lolo challenging us to step freely into the sacred space of god's presence and worship him freely, together. together was the key component. accepting one another, together. i try. i will keep on trying. someday i know that i will be barefoot in the presence of god and i will know i belong. every sunday we really are just like a bunch of circus bears trying to balance on balls. i have learned to laugh at my attempts. i will always long for what i believe we can be as gathered believers in god's presence. maybe next sunday. fingers-crossed.

My Thoughts Are Spinning...

"Over here, the rains fail; they are starving. There, the caribou fail; they are starving. Corrupt leaders take the wealth. Not only there but here. Rust and smut spoil the rye. When pigs and cattle starve or freeze, people die soon after. Disease empties a sector, a billion sectors.

People look at the sky and at the other animals. They make beautiful objects, beautiful sounds, beautiful motions of their bodies beating drums in lines. They pray; they toss people in peat bogs; they help the sick and injured; they pierce their lips, their noses, ears; they make the same mistakes despite religion, written language, philosophy, and science; they build, they kill, they preserve, they count and figure, they boil the pot, they keep the embers alive; they tell their stories and gird themselves...

Say you have seen something. You have seen an ordinary bit of what is real, the infinite fabric of time that eternity shoots through, and time's soft-skinned people working and dying under slowly shifting stars. Then what?"

Excerpt from: THIS IS THE LIFE

By Annie Dillard from the Fall issue of Image

Dillard's most recent book is For the Time Being.

Then what? Annie poses a question that I find I wrestle with constantly. I live in a culture that finances religious scholars to help me think about God "correctly" or at all. I live in a culture that rules out objections with reason rather than simply extending love. I was exposed to a culture that struggled for freedom, food, health, shelter, limbs, the opportunity to be heard, to be seen. I was young. I have lived in this culture of American-Christiendom for a long time now. I have sought to understand the culture in which I was born, yet I continue to return to a different land where the sounds and soil hold close to the people and you always look each other in the eyes. You are human. I want dignity for all people. I know it is within the creator where love for all creation is found. Whenever I have a human exchange, I choose to leave dignity intact for us both. Shoes on or off.

NOT READY FOR...

my wife to take off on an amazing adventure for nearly a month. our couple days away was not enough to reconnect after a full summer of pouring out into others. upon return the pressure of preparations invades the peaceful presence of family simply sharing space. i know the travels will be sweet, and the memories will unfold in story upon return, but i will miss my wife's day to day care and friendship near.

my girls bring so much life into my everyday. they always help me remember to laugh, and play. each of them is at such a different place in growth. i am right in the mix of it with them and suddenly i will have to hear about the day through phone calls and following my wife's blog. i know they are going to have so much fun. i am just not ready for them to go and i hope the next 32 hours can be filled with some sweet moments. i need just a few more before they hit the road.

* m * e * r * m * a * i * d *

sometimes photos of my youngest daughter only have one word to describe them, "FIERCE!" that is right, fierce. she owns the experience and on rare occasion i capture a moment in her amazing imagination world. every mermaid has to come up for a breath now and then.

GOOD * LIFE *

i have found that life is not so much about about how we fill our days. life is much more about who we spend our days with. i enjoy the quiet mornings. the golden hue of natural light softly fills our living room. silence is broken by a whistling pot, beckoning me to the kitchen counter. i move slowly about the house in the early of day. as i sip my coffee while reading some choice of scripture, i glance across the couch at my wife. sipping her coffee, sitting in the same space with me. life really is about who we spend our days with. live well with others. live full.

“There is no shortage of good days. It is good lives that are hard to come by.” –Annie Dillard

"10% chance. Slim odds."

"I wrote you a letter the other day (actually it was little bits over the course of a couple weeks, but I finished the letter just the other day).  I stamped it with one of my mother teresa stamps and put the big basin address on it.  Then I put it in my back pocket, and forget I put it there, until I was riding on the bridge over the east river, and realized it was no longer in my back pocket.  I retraced my steps into brooklyn.  No letter.  I rode back over the bridge.  Still no letter.  I figure there is about a 10% chance that someone found it and decided to mail it.  Slim odds.  The second best scenario would be for it to be lost in the east river and travel to england.  I think the mother teresa stamp would like that."-Josh


I am enjoying coffee with a good letter and the mother teresa stamp. she did not have the chance to travel the east river out and across to england, but she is enjoying the redwoods. human kindness can change our view on low percentages, slim odds, and the likelihood's of life.

wind chime wishes

the wind chime sounds a baritone clang as the breeze pushes metal against wood, dangling from a string. the oak leaves  outside the living room window sit like green christmas lights aglow from the summer sun. the still pond of august rest reveals movement as the water slaps through the run off drain, splashing in rhythm to the creek below. traveling time approaches and the need to get stuff done presses against my desire to just be. the knowledge of a disorganized house, need to clean, packing looming overhead, are all very apparent. stress energy replaces my inner screaming, shouting "i want time!" i want time to be with my family in play, rest, reading, sleeping, laughing, exploring, simply living. the wind chime sounds. the day lingers on. my writing is interrupted by the songbird sisters chirping, "pool please?" and i relent and close with a wind chime wish come true. my desire to just be is now. the laundry will be here later, but my family will be gone for a month in less than a week. so we choose to just be together. time to splash in and be swept away in summer play.

summer drive

the end of summer camp came quickly. i was not ready to say good bye to noise. the quiet pond once raged with laughter. i heard a stellar for the first time since june.

as i drove my way back to camp. i found myself wishing for more weeks. it would be nice to have one more day. the weeks fly by and we change. in a day you can make more friends.

while i chugged up the winding road i slipped into an amazing daydream. all of the summer inhabitants of camp were having a dance party at the pond. as i pulled into the driveway i snapped to and realized the season of relishing had arrived. oh, how sweet it is to rest in the memories of laughter, play, and good friendships found in the forest.

* D * E * P * O * T *

take me to the river.

let me soak in the sun.

let me sink in the deep.

may my day be refreshed by play.

another * SUMMER * together

photo taken by: sarah jean s-d

every summer we face new adventures together. somethings are easier than others, regardless we stick together. this summer i was the guest speaker for the evening talks, one week for junior high and one for high school. i was stretched and grown through the exhaustion and exhilaration of sharing life story and truth. sj(my wife) shared her voice through song and worship, assisting others into God's presence. she helped me close off the week with high school campers by singing a solo about love at the fire circle. our life together is wrapped in the true meaning and commitment of unconditional love. another summer together and we can full-joy smile at the life we have been given to share.

lavished

How great is the love 

the Father has given us so freely! 

Now we can be called children of God. 

And that's what we really are! 

i am blown away by God's amazing love for me. there is nothing better in all the world than to be fully sunk in His brimming over sweet love. it can be so easy to walk through the day unrecognizing all the little ways God loves us. i encourage you to look for them. they are there. sink in and be swallowed up by His free love. you are a child of God. walk in that truth. live as a child. know love.

she changes my world

she was born on August 5, 1975 (36 years ago today).

Psalm 42:1

"As the deer pants
for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you,
O God."