one more stop

The breeze blew softly through the newly planted basil and thyme in the window boxes. The trees that lined the fence had been growing for only a few years and were still in their leggy stage. They were each wrapped in twinkling white christmas lights adding to the ambiance of the outdoor patio. The murmur of the highway that was two blocks away was slowed down and drowned out by the cooing music in the background. There were a handful of people in the bar having conversations ranging from the musical composition techniques of the masters, and the most recent royals game, to a new pair of high heels that matched an outfit perfectly. At first it was an entirely new experience. A bar that none of us had ever visited. One that was laid-back and tucked away so that only the devoted would find it. But then they brought out glasses of water. They were tall and cylindrical. The same type of glasses that were used all over Spain and Portugal.

And with a clink of the glass on the metal outdoor furniture I was off to the land of my dreams. The land that seems further and further away everyday. One I want to keep all my own, and yet share with everyone at the same time.

He pulled me back after letting me reminisce for a minute. He said, "I know that face. That is the face of remembering. What are you thinking about?" I smiled and let him know he was right, then dived back into the conversation on the importance of instant replay for the World Cup.

And like that I was back to the streets of Kansas City, sitting with friends, enjoying the cool of the night.

leave it for the birds

I've always been infatuated by birds. In fact I have one on me, but that's a secret.

Barn swallows, geese, red wings, sparrows, even pigeons, I'm a fan of them all. Something about them intrigues me. I could watch them for hours, they are almost as fascinating as watching people. One of the things I find most intoxicating about our flying companions is their freedom. All they need is a little flap of the wings and they are off to a new and better place. Watching them glide effortlessly through the sky lets my heart find the freedom it needs sometimes. I don't like being tied-down, but sometimes life calls for it. I'm still wildly protective of what little freedom I have left and will often turn the dogs out when I feel like someone or something is infringing on those freedoms.

I was told Monday that I probably won't be allowed to cross the border into Mexico. I held myself together, but after the meeting I threw some things and yelled some choice words and let my heart break. I don't know what it is but something is pulling me to that border. How can a program that is trying to tear down walls and bring people together give into this boundary thing? It just didn't make sense to me. In all reality is was probably because I don't like being told what to do. Regardless I convinced myself that they were just doing the business part of the church's job. They were trying to keep from being liable for any issues, but that is one part of the church that I hate.

I hate to say it (actually I don't) but I am so over the church. At least our human definition of the church. The building and everything that goes with it has lulled us into complacency. A lesson can be learned and applied so much easier when instead of just listening to a sermon, you are getting your hands dirty. Tithing is a lot easier to do when you know you are actually helping someone and not paying an electricity bill. And sharing the gospel is a lot more productive when someone sees Christ in you, rather than shoving him down their throat. Don't get me wrong, I know a lot of these things are crucial to keep the church functioning, but what happened to the church in Acts where everyone shared what they had? Opened their homes, shared meals, served together, actively waited for the second-coming? That's the kind of church I live for and I feel pretty strongly that that church wouldn't feel the need to stay on only one side of the border...

*as a disclaimer...yes I know the risks and dangers that are happening in Mexico right now. I know it isn't safe. I'm not dumb. I'm just also, like those birds, not willing to be tied down and told where to go, or not go for that matter.

Hey-oh looks who's still in Wichita...

Restless would be an understatement. Frustrated would be much too weak. Unsettled wouldn't quite do it justice. Throw them all together and you would be getting closer, but still no cigar.

If you haven't picked up by now, I'm still in Wichita. Something about paperwork and insurance and yadda yadda.... translation: Still here.

So in an angry rage at the world, and because my dog ate my new shorts, I went out on the town. Wichita has some great gems including...

A store that sells caskets and urns in the west mall.

Water-logged bike paths

A store for all your home brewing needs

Enough orange construction cones to wrap around the world 30 times, or at least seriously divert all the traffic between here and China

A restaurant that only sells hotdogs, but does them about 60 different ways

Quality drivers who stop on entrance ramps to the highway

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Gotta love your hometown, right? Right?

great big gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts....

One year ago today I was returning from my first experience with a Portuguese beach. The sun, the sand, the people, the food, everything was fabulous.

Today I am back in Wichita, be it only temporarily, where the closest thing to a beach is the puddle on the side of the street from the thunderstorms last night.

Sunday I leave for Texas. Not so much beach there either, but definitely another adventure.

Just gotta say it's about damn time.
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in other news... I was at the grocery store last night for a late night oreo's and milk run. I've spent the last week enjoying this delectable treat with a variety of folks. We have discussed the different dipping methods, and the optimal time for the perfect smooshy cookie. However through all of this I have always found someone to drink my dipping milk. When I was seven I ate some oreo's drank my milk, then threw it all up. My mom blames it on the fact that I had strep, but I know the real culprit is the gritty grimy milk full of the oreo's discards and leftovers. Well after receiving much teasing over my inability to drink the milk, I gave in and drank it. Yes, for all you skeptics out there I drank the oreo milk. I didn't like it but i drank it. And the whole time I just kept thinking about the song we used to sing when we were little...

Great green globs of greasy, grimy gopher guts
Mutilated monkey feet
Chopped up baby parakeet
Great green globs of greasy, grimy gopher guts
And me without my spoon

It made the milk go down a lot easier...