There is something radically wrong

I've been re-reading The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning. 

If you've never read it, I highly suggest doing so. 

In the first chapter, Manning describes a generation marked

by an inability to grasp the gospel of grace. He describes a pattern

of behavior that is common to believers in which we first attempt

to work our way toward closeness with God, & then upon failing to 

succeed, confront the painful truth of our inadequacy before a perfect creator.

Once the zeal of attempting to add to our spiritual stature passes, weakness &  

failure appear. Manning describes a "winter of discontent that eventually

flowers into gloom, pessimism, & a subtle despair: subtle because it goes 

unrecognized, unnoticed, & therefore unchallenged."

[Did I mention that Brennan Manning

has a way with words that is captivating? 

Because he does]

All of this talk about works-based spirituality has really got me thinking. 

I am a being driven by performance. Just about everything in my life has

happened as a result of the effort put into whatever outcome was desired. 

I am often enslaved by good intentions, over-commitment, &

an obsession with success. Ultimately, I've watched it ruin me at times & more

recently, I have watched it steal from people I love. 

It's a difficult thing, finding the balance between practicing discipline & disregarding grace.

I worry sometimes that people I truly care about or myself will fall victim

to a life characterized by a "performace addiction:" always seeking the next bigger & better 

thing to come our way. When the result is unfullfilling, which it chronically will be, 

the result, or "winter of discontent" which Manning describes is even more frightening, 

in my opinion, than the symptoms which get us there. I think I'm finally 

understanding the warning that many college grads gave me over & over while 

I was in college. Life really does change once you finish. It is so easily

to fall into a subtle pattern of apathy which grows slowly but

persistently into who we become. 

It really is true that you will become what you are becoming. 

source

The death of a vision.

I've been struggling to write this post for a while now, so I appologize if it lacks direction or substance; it just won't seem to come easily to me, but the idea behind it won't leave me alone.

There have been a handful of times when I've

heard the voice of God. I'm not talking about feeling like
something might have been Him, but rather taking part in a sensory experience in which
I was unwaveringly convinced he was speaking to me.

There is a particular vision I have had twice: Once about a year-
and-a-half ago, and again this past April.

[I hesistate to call it a  vision

because that sounds so

descriptive & controversial in my mind,

but I don't know 

what else to call it.]

The reason I bring this up is not so much about the vision itself,

but more so that under my current circumstances, 

this vision will not come to fruition. In fact, several significant changes

would have to occur in my life for what I "saw" to become true.

I understand that anything is possible, but all signs point to "no" on this one.

Despite knowing that many things separate me from this vision, I have clung

to it until very recently.

No harm in that, right?

Then I read this.
Give it a quick read; this guy is much smarter & more articulate than I am.

Honestly, this idea terrifies me. Why on earth would God 

create something & then let it dissolve? Everything in me wants to say that he wouldn't, 

but it does happen and has happened since the beginning of time.

Sometimes our visions succeed. Sometimes our visions are restored, albeit differently than we originally experienced them. & sometimes visions simply die.
Don't believe me? Here's an example. I guess this all confuses me about God.

The same God who can allow something to perish also solely holds

the power of resurrection; death & life are both in his hands. 

source

Instagram

I've finally gotten a new phone.

[New to me, at least.]

One of the first things I did with my new

phone was download Instagram. 

I just sky-rocketed into the 21st century. 

Here's some shots from my week so far, 

while trying to fit the world inside a picture frame:

This is Mickey. He's the cutest. 

Put a bird on it.

Sebastian: the cutest cat.

Stevie: CUTEST baby.

home-brewed beer: delicious!

On nightmares & lucid dreaming.

There are many things that I am fascinated by.
Lately I've been putting a lot of thought into the dream world;
particularly lucid dreams & nightmares.
One of the things I keep thinking about is how hard it is
in a dream to become consciously aware you're dreaming. This idea,
called "lucid dreaming" is something that many never experience. There is
an entire subculture of people who practice lucid dreaming &
an even larger group of people who seek to discern the meaning
behind what they experience while they're asleep.
[If you're a super nerd, check this out.]

Along with thinking about lucid dreaming,
I've been thinking a lot about nightmares. While it's
difficult to become aware in a dream of your state of consciousness,
I've found that after a nightmare, there are times for me when it
is nearly impossible to become convinced that what had 
just happened wasn't, in fact, real. I absolutely hate the feeling
of waking up and spending hours emotionally exhausted
by something that happened while I was asleep.

I think I've been thinking so much about dreams
because I have no ability to bridle what goes on in my mind sometimes.
I've been working on controlling my thought life 
in the waking world & while I can "practice" lucid dreaming,
[nerd alert]
I can't always know what, if any, bigger picture lies behind them.

Try as I might to make sense of them all, I'm starting to understand
that sometimes it takes work to let dreams remain just that:
dreams.

source

Life wins.

All things new. 

Drive.

The past 2 weeks since the fire happened 

have made me feel a little bit trapped. I feel like

I can't escape the news coverage, the conversations, or

the campfire smell that still lingers, especially after the rain.

Saturday I was able to drive to Canon City to help a friend

look for housing for the coming year. It was just an hour

outside of town, but it was the first time since the fire that

I've really been able to leave. 

It's amazing what a little drive to a new place will do for you.

It felt good to breathe in fresh mountain air & feel completely

separate from everything I knew. It made me excited for the future.

It might not be the prettiest thing that you'll ever see

...but it's a new day.

It's been raining for hours. Where this rain was 2 weeks ago when 

the entire state was on fire, I'll never know. However, there is rain 

& the earth is starting to look happy again around here. 

I can't help but feel like the rain is symbolic for so much more than

watering the ground. It is the beginning of life for what was just burned

very badly. It is nourishment for what survived, & it is a softening agent

for what has solidified under the heat of the fire. 

I won't lie. This season of life has been more painful

than I could have ever imagined. Some times I just

want to say "enough is enough," & become angry because it 

doesn't seem fair that so much could be lost in such a short period of time.

But all I can hear now & have been hearing for the past 2 months is this:

"Be patient." 

There are so many things
that these 2 words could mean, but at this moment in time,

that's all I'm getting. & I refuse to try to decode what I'm not yet 

ready to understand. So until these 2 words start to make more sense,

I'll take them for face value & wait. 

New Normal.

Yesterday was the closest I've gotten to a normal day in a while.

We officially began getting things at the house worked 

on since our street opened up. 

[we're some of the lucky ones].

I even had a chance to take a run around what was open in our

neighborhood. I couldn't stay long, because it's just too hard to look at. 

I feel like a spectator in my own home- stopping & staring like everyone 

else in awe of the destruction. For a moment I felt like I could look at things & then leave,

but I quickly remembered that this is my reality. There is a rebuilding process that must begin.

 But something about yesterday started to feel almost normal-like it's all
going to be ok.
The things I was distracted from this past week are quickly returning to my mind, some more welcome than others.
We're slowly defining a new normal.

For day-by-day summary of my last week, 

check out Beth's blog. She lives up the street

from me & our stories are very similar. 

Numb.

One week ago, I wrote about the wild fire that was quickly approaching

dangerously close to my family home. In that moment, I did not know of the 

horrifying events I would experience just 2 days later. I did not know that 

I would never return to my neighborhood the way it was when I left it.
I did not know that I would never return to my neighborhood the way I was when I left it.

I did not know that I would live through the scariest night of my 23-year-old life,

& begin to experience a cycle of fear & sadness that would consume me at first,

and then leave me numb after. I did not know that I would spend the next

168 hours in a daze, glued to the television, unable to function on a normal level,

but feeling guilty when I tried. & I certainly did not know that in the midst of such

chaos, I would begin to catch glimpses of the first signs of 

redemption & rebirth while the fire was still burning.

But as I sit down to write this, I am tired.
I am exhausted. All I want to do is process what has happened in the past week,
but I can't yet. & I'm letting that be okay. 

Thoughts on fire.

I remember being younger & answering the question

"If you had to save any items as your house

was burning down, what would you save?" 

Yesterday, I faced this question with alarming reality.
Within hours of hearing of a small fire somewhat near our home,
2 police officers knocked on our door & told us to take what
we could not lose & find a safer place to stay. Within hours,
high schools became shelters, ash was falling from the sky,
& thousands of people left their homes, wondering when
they'd return & what will have changed by then.

It's a terrifyingly beautiful thing, watching the smoke billow

over the hills that I have hiked so many times, &

seeing the embers glow in the nighttime. I have this

strange feeling of helplessness, yet am in complete

awe of the power that is displayed in a wild fire. 

Being thankful & prayerful today is all that can be done.

My family is safe, my friends are safe, & that's all I can ask for.

Our house hasn't been touched yet, & we're hoping for the best.

For more information on the fire, this website

constantly updates the fire spread & evacuation.