Lost and Found

Recently, I started reading the blog Stuff Christians Like regularly... as someone who's spent a lot of time in the weird and wonderful world of "Christian Culture," I find the commentary to funny and true, a little gentle fun-poking without being too mean.

And then I read one of today's posts and it turned out to be very insightful... something I needed to hear, if only to confirm what I already know to be true:

"I don’t care if you're Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Mormon, Atheist or Agnostic. I think deep down inside, we all want to be found. We all want someone to come looking for us. We want to be missed. We want people to be glad when they are with us, as if they have arrived. As Radiohead once said, 'I want you to notice when I’m not around.'"

I've been thinking about this quite a bit lately, and someone else summed it up so well. "We all want to be found." We want -- need -- to feel chased and missed and wanted and needed.

As Don Miller, one of my favorite writers, put it, like some corner of the world would fall apart without us. (I paraphrase, because I can't remember the quote, but it was from To Own a Dragon.) And the desire is part of who we are, part of the human condition.

I have a sticky note that says "Everything Matters" tucked in the bottom of my increasingly messy desk drawer. Every now and then, I move the box of unused business cards and post-it pads aside in search of something, and I catch a glimpse of it. So easy to forget, but I know it's real and true, and I find it more and more each day.

Everything matters. Everyone matters. Every moment, every life is precious to God, and it's so easy to forget when you get lost in the shuffle and the crowd and the pressure of day to day living.

I'd say more, but it's already been summed up so nicely, that I leave it here, and encourage you to read the full post at SCL instead.

"I think that is something we Christians forget that we need to be found. We think it's already happened. We ascribe events to our faith and say things like, "I became a Christian in the fourth grade" or "I gave my life to Christ last year." I like the present tense better. I like how words like becoming and being and giving, capture that faith isn't so much an event as it is an experience. It isn't so much something you do once, but rather something you do. We need to be found. Not once in a single moment of salvation but daily. Hourly even, we need the God of the universe to come running. To find us. To know us and love us."

I don't know about you... but sometimes I just need to be reminded of that.

I was going to write something emo...

... but you don't want to read that crap. :P
So, here's something superficial instead. (I'm just thinking of you, dear reader...)


I found this hoodie on RelevantStore.com today. Oh my. Awesome. I love that verse because it's poetic and true.

But not for 50 bucks. I'm too cheap for that. And after looking at the photo of the front... meh...

I think I'll steal that random line from Song of Solomon and make my own. Yeah.

Ha! I can dance without arrows!

So after a month of classes and braving the rain to go to a dance event, does this mean I'm officially a member of the Orlando swing scene? Hard to say. I'm pretty sure once I've traded in my cheap-yet-wonderfully-slippery Target flats for some real suede-bottom dance shoes, I'll know I've arrived.

But regardless, I've been taking a basic swing class with Flyin' Footwork Productions for the past four weeks and enjoying it, and I really did go to my first dance last night. About four people in last week's class managed to talk me into going out to the dance, and they were right: it was worth it.

It was a good night, with a live big band playing 20's/30's era jazz. Honestly, it is about getting out there and dancing and practicing, but just being there watching can be just as much fun. The atmosphere, the great music, the fun vintage costumes, and some insanely talented dancers were pretty much worth the admission. Once things really got going, it felt a bit like stepping back in time, really just so darn cool.

But here's the thing I've learned in the middle of this little swing dancing experiment: the people who love it, really love it. And the love is kind of contagious. Everyone I've met so far has been super-nice and supportive, and really... it's hard to feel bad when you're dancing the Charleston, even in a corner by yourself. I thought it would be intimidating, and sometimes it kind of is, but I'm enjoying the learning way more than I thought I would.

I didn't dance a whole lot, but when I did, it was so much fun and so freeing, it just made me want to learn more and get better. Just a few months ago, I couldn't even picture myself attempting something like this. But you get out there on the floor, you suck, you laugh about it, you get better, and you have fun. That's all there is to it, really.

As I was leaving, someone from my class was questioning me to make sure I actually did some dancing and didn't just sit around and watch. And another commented, "Hey, you've gotta come to these things. We're your family now." And it made me smile, because I thought maybe I really could belong to this.

Wallflowers can dance too.

***

On a side note: my sister was asked to dance a bit more than I was. I'm still giving her grief about it. Because that's what big sisters do, y'know.

But it's okay, I'm not bitter. Really. ;)

***

YouTube bonus! In an effort to find a good Charleston video example for this post, I stumbled across this little gem again. Haven't seen it in a while, but it's pretty rad... gotta love Daft Punk + retro dance moves!

Frailty.

Lindsay told me I needed to update my blog. Well, I aim to please, so here's an update. Unfortunately, it is late, and I am not in a good frame of mind for cheery "whassup-here's-what-I've-been-up-to" posting, so solemn, rambling, really long introspection will have to do. It's just that kind of day. Emotionally draining... though I didn't realize fully how much until it was over.

I honestly don't know how much coverage there was outside the world of Christian music and radio, but on Wednesday afternoon, singer/songwriter Steven Curtis Chapman lost his youngest daughter Maria in a tragic accident. You don't have to be a parent, and you don't have to be a fan or an acquaintance of this family to realize how horrible this is... there is no explanation, and there are no words in the face of a loss like this. (More information is at Steven's website.)

I suppose it hits especially hard because he was the headlining performer for the big Memorial Day event being hosted by the radio station I work at. With only 3 days until the show, things were definitely buzzing around my office all day... alternate plans being worked out and such. And overall, just a heavy, solemn feeling.

It wasn't until the day was over that I was finally able to process it all and hurt and cry for this family. I don't know them, and honestly, I haven't truly known the intense, real pain of loss yet. I can't begin to imagine the immense heartbreak in losing a child.

But I know this. That life is a mysterious, beautiful, fragile gift, and sometimes we forget that far too easily. I know I do.

I've thought about frailty all day... life is just one big paradox really. It is strong. But it also so very weak, so fragile to the touch. We do everything we can to stay alive, and sometimes we even live like we're invincible and immortal... and yet it can be over so fast. (I guess that also explains the mild freak-out I had braking in the rain today... yes, almost a year later, and the sight of random brake lights from a very large vehicle in front of me still gets my blood pressure up a bit.) You just can't tell with these things.

But it makes me so glad that I have something to hold onto... that I believe that there is a God that actually loves and cares about us enough to be with us when things get so hard, that gives us one shot at this gift of life, and that is constantly working things out, making something beautiful out of messy people in the tragic world we live in.

And sometimes... that's just enough to get by. Hope makes life okay.

Tonight I slipped Jon Foreman's Fall EP in the CD player and drove home under an overcast, drizzly sky. I confess, sometimes the commute can get a little lonely, and you really just need the appropriate melancholy folk soundtrack to make a gray day beautiful. I love this music because he sounds so weary sometimes, but he sings like he means it, and as I listened to these songs, I thought about how very precious and short these days are, and how they make me want to laugh more often, love a little stronger, and hope a lot more than despair.

And it's enough. Thank God, sometimes it's more than enough.

The Ballad of the Creaky Car

Last post, bullet point #3: "Family vacations of any length or distance are always an epic, slightly stress-inducing adventure."

Well, the saga continues...

After the final details were checked, the bags packed, and the last small, possible-fire-causing kitchen appliance unplugged, the Roses set off on their family adventure. Finally! The open road ahead, the ocean beckoning, and ETA in a few short hours.

Somewhere in Wildwood, with I-75 in sight, two things happened. My iPod refused to start. And a nice metal-scraping-metal creaky sound begins erupting from somewhere underneath the car.

After a couple checks for visible damage (there was none) and the noises continuing to persist, we limped, crestfallen, back to town and the auto repair guy to check it out.

So, turns out there's a small loose part underneath that's making all the big noise, a minor repair, and we are back at home, waiting to hear the go-ahead from him. Best-case, he gets the part in, fixes the car, and we're on our way around 5 or so. Worst-case, we head out early tomorrow morning, possibly taking Godspeed on her first road trip (which would be awesome, except her trunk is reeaaaalllly tiny for four people's luggage.)

I'd be really frustrated if it weren't so funny. I think we will all truly need a vacation from our vacation in the end.

But on a positive note... at least I fixed my iPod!

This 'n That

Because it's been a while. A quick succession of stream-of-consciousness highlights in no particular order...

• I'm on vacation this week. No matter when I take time off, it always feels a bit strange looking at the clock in the morning and thinking, "I should be on my way to work right now." Kind of like playing hooky or something. Still, sleeping in on a Tuesday is pretty amazing...
• And speaking of which, my bags are packed for a sunny few days down in Port Charlotte, Florida. Oh yes, the ocean is calling. Can't wait. Here's to beaches and salt water and sunny weather. (without the sunburn. I hope.)
• Family vacations of any length or distance are always an epic, slightly stress-inducing adventure. At least, the planning and prep can be. I'd like to think that this is pretty normal for every family.
• Today I re-discovered the library. You know, that magical place that lets you take books and music for free? We have a shiny new library in town, and I think I could have spent hours making a mental list of what I want to check out at some point... for now, I got some Anne Lamott and Regina Spektor to keep me company on the trip.
• Remind me to write about my swing dance class sometime. Going on three weeks soon. In a few more, this "can't-dance-without-arrows" gal should have sweet dancing skills. (In theory, at least. Maybe more like semi-okay-at-least-I-don't-look-stupid dancing skills, but I'm on my way!) This also might explain my suddenly revived fondness for Frank Sinatra.
  
• As if I didn't have enough Internet in my life, I'm twittering now. Why? I don't know. Morbid curiosity about why it's so popular and something new to play with, I guess. (Basically, the same reason I joined MySpace and Facebook.) But hey, what better way to announce to whoever's listening that there was a frog in the kitchen, right?
• The mocha Java Chiller things at Sonic are amazing. Espresso + chocolate + ice cream... does it get any better?
  
• I should be at Cornerstone Florida this weekend. But alas, no such thing this year. That makes me sad. RIP C-stone FL. You are missed.
  
• And finally... today marks the one year anniversary of buying my first car. Happy Birthday Godspeed! <3

That's quite enough steam-of-consciousness for one night, I'd say.