a chapel in the woods.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as chapel, cute boys, Don, florescent lights, friend, God, place, right, strip malls, time, whispers of hope, Wilmington, yellow flowers
Today I went on a hike with a friend.
And it was startling, actually, where we ended up. Because we were in Wilmington, driving by strip malls and underneath electric lights, when suddenly we turned off a highway and found ourselves right by a river that was doing something right because the land all around it was verdant and seemed to be saying an awful lot about springtime and life and the color green in general.
We parked the car and started walking and I felt like I could look at my surroundings forever. And if not forever, than at least for an hour or two before I wondered if anyone had texted me and shoot! I left my phone back at my friend’s house, anyway.
Don’t worry, I did that on purpose.
Part of the whole proving a certain friend of mine that I am not obsessed with my iphone, after all.
But the grass, it wasn’t just your every day green. It was like when you take a photograph and put it into iphoto and, when editing it, click on enhance and suddenly you blink because everything just got so much brighter. And then this grass was dotted with little yellow flowers and my goodness, but you know me: they had me at yellow.
But that would have been enough, you know? All that vibrant color carpeting the ground, acting all modest, like it was just its job anyway. Except then my friend took me to a very special place. A place, that for her, is a sanctuary. A place where it’s possible to hear the whispers of hope and grace that seemed to have been drowned out by the world clamoring for our attention for a long time now–probably even before you started noticing how cute boys are, but man, that sure didn’t help with trying to hear that whisper, did it?
Because there, on top of this hill and hidden by trees that, as it turns out, are some of the oldest and best secret keepers around, stands this small and rustic chapel. It’s rugged and it’s lovely and nobody has ever thought about installing anything so offensive as florescent lights in it. There’s a large wooden door and the floor is made of red bricks and wide grey stones. Oh! And I love this part, because there are tall archways on either side of the chapel, but they are devoid of any glass at all. Rather, they let the air come in and out as it pleases, and today the most perfectly warm breeze kept moving around inside the chapel. It was moving my hair too, which I figured was its right since it has been coming in and out of the place for a long time, while I had only just arrived.
And at the back of the chapel was a little unassuming plaque, one that tells a nice little story every minute of every day. Something about how the chapel was built in gratitude to God for a beautiful life–one filled with family, unique friends, joy, and laughter.
And tonight when I was telling a friend about this magical place, I told him that I’d like to be that, too: A temple of gratitude. One who’s hair might change an awful lot, who gets lost if she’s going anywhere that doesn’t happen to be home or the gas station down the street from home, and who falls for a fishy phone call enough to get her heart beating harder than normal when a silly friend disguises his voice at 2 am in the morning, telling her to come down to the police station or be arrested, but it’s your choice, ma’am…
But I agree with that little plaque. The one about this life being beautiful and, for this, being grateful.
And I hope to be able to find that perfect chapel again. Maybe with my guitar in tow next time.
whelmed.
in Thoughts and Feelings
as change, florescent lights, God, good, guard your heart, nothing, sheer effort, something, sorry buddy, sunlight streams, way
There are some things that are just plain good.
Like when my three year old nephew reminisces, saying things like, When I was young…Sorry buddy, but you’re not even four yet. Um, still young.
And when you take a nighttime walk and get past the florescent lights in the parking lot. Way past them, actually. And how the darkness, when it’s finally allowed to be, makes the stars show up that much brighter.
And how you feel bad and then you cry. And yes, I’m listing this with the things that are just plain good. Because crying is God’s way of saying that sadness does change things in the sense that all the sudden your face is all screwed up tight and wet with tears, but then your forehead smooths again, you wipe away your tears and find that it’s still you under there.
And then there are some things that are just plain bad.
Like when you visit some friends in their home and recognize their dishes as being the same as yours. Only then you remember: they’re not yours, not anymore. And so instead of remarking upon their good taste and saying something like great minds think alike, you say absolutely nothing at all. A sad, sad nothing that you try to rush past by suddenly looking at the way the sunlight streams through the windows and reaches you, and there’s something reassuring about being reached, I guess.
Or the way that you can try so hard to be positive that sometimes, by the end of the day, you’re exhausted from the sheer effort of it all. And it’s not that the effort isn’t worth it, it’s just you hear so much and the homework, it piles up. Make sure you process everything. Guard your heart. But don’t become impenetrable . Use this time as a sabbath. What are you gonna do to make money? And yes, it’s all different ways of saying we care! but it can feel like different ways of saying we want you to do this!
And hey, I’d want someone I love to do all that too, so it’s not even that I’m blaming anyone for it. It’s just that, I can feel overwhelmed by it. But I suppose there’s the danger of nobody saying anything ever and then leaving me to feel underwhelmed.
How bout just good old whelmed? I think I’d like that; I think I could deal with being whelmed, for a change.
