Coming to the realization that my life has been pretty dappled and full lately, I've been ignoring that equally potent realization that it is high time to blog. Well, I cannot ignore it any longer; here we stand.
Claire, Ashley, Genny, Nina, Sarah, Hannah. I love you all very dearly, and I miss your presences. I miss running into you all in Gillies at lunchtime, unexpectedly but somehow expectedly. I miss the palpable care you all take in listening and coming alongside both friends and strangers. Your lives have borne, are bearing, a lot of fruit. May the Lord allow you to fix your eyes ever more singlemindedly on Him!
Something that has really blessed me this summer is the song 'Kingfisher' by Joanna Newsom. One night, a few weeks ago, I listened very closely to these lyrics with two friends of mine, Jon and Claire. They just got married last month, and when I spent the weekend with them as their household's very first guest, I felt inordinately giddy and blessed. We had tea and coffee, and, sprawled on the floor, looked closely at the small-fonted lyrics of this 9-minute song, and analyzed them afterwards. Whenever we talk about Joanna Newsom, we come to the fresh conclusion that she is either a Christian, or just tangibly and unabashedly affected by Biblical images and ideas. This time, we were convinced that she's a believer. It's a beautiful long haul to listen to the song here, if you want to see what I mean. I've appreciated this line because it's the sort that teaches:
He was a kind unhurried man
With a heavy lip and a steady hand
But he loved me just like a little chid
Like a little child loves a little lamb
If Christ loves me, you, as sweetly and innocently and fully as a little child loves his pet lamb, then I can understand Him that much better. Thanks, Joanna!
The other day I had a very fun day with the kids I babysit. These kids are fun. They read in the dryer, run across "don't walk" streets trustingly with their impulsive babysitter, love popsicles & water balloons, aren't afraid of hot stoves (or anything, really), and have intense dance parties with their parents in the kitchen. They love adventures. Inspired by Ashley, last week I took them on the bus to Long's Park, a humongous farm that was gifted to the people of Lancaster city as a park about a hundred years ago. (I read the plaque.) There seem to be more playgrounds every time I go, so between those and the families of geese and ducks who were hungry for all the food we tossed at them, we had a good time. We must have played hard, because the boy (who is six) fell asleep on the return bus. His older sister took our picnic blanket, covered him up, and said, "He needs that more than we do right now."
Since I last wrote, I have gone, returned and been long home from vacation. It was a very rich and good time, friends. I wish I could tell you everything about it. Most of my family and two friends went out to Illinois (yay, birthplace of our own Claire M.!) for a Christian music festival called Cornerstone. This year was so wonderful. Cornerstone is one of the biggest festivals of its kind, (though only a fourth the size of Creation Festival, if you've heard of it) and is unique in its embracement of all kinds of art and culture: the fringe, the across-the-tracks, the "alternative." Going every year since I was 11, I've only slowly pieced this together over the last few years. It's my favorite place, and holds as many memories as Lancaster. In my mind, Cornerstone is: dust, families, nomads, midwesterners, hard rock/metal, guitars, guitars, guitars, a harp, big tents, small tents, sweat, lake, coffee, memories, friends, Christ, people both lovely in familiarity and fresh in newness. Three years ago, a dear friend of mine accepted Christ there. Last year, Jon and Claire got engaged there. When I was much younger, Cornerstone was a fun (albeit hot, sweaty and tiring) vacation that I, surprised, always found myself excited for. As I got older, my focus in life turned towards me, and things got less fun. Friends started to come, and instead of enjoying life together I would sulk that I wasn't the center of attention.
This year was good because I found myself enjoying things. God was awesome. He let me just be, without trying to impress or force or pretend. My sister Maggie's friend, also named Maggie, came along. Also along was our good friend Ross- he and I and all our siblings grew up together in Lancaster and are all still very close. A normal day at Cornerstone went thus: wake up in the tent. Scrounge for a bagel. Go get [excellent] coffee with Ross at the exorbitantly lovely coffee tent. Read. Go to the lake and swim with the Maggies. Hang around and languish in the heat with any and all fellow campsite members. Make dinner and eat at the campsite. See music at big striped tents. Go to bed. For these and many reasons, this week away was a huge blessing.
The other night my sister and brother-in-law, Eliza and Caleb, had a housewarming dinner at their 3rd floor apartment in Baltimore. Many friends were together. It was delightful.
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