Ain't That Simple

It just ain’t that simple.  Life.  It’s complex.  Seriously, and I’m sorry about this, I know I often find some comfort in this effort, but - there really is no way to break life down into a few easy steps.  It’s not something we can wrap our brains around.  If I’m paying attention, really aware of all the different pieces of any experience, I can’t even wrap my head around one event.  In the end, even in the beginning, this is better.  Infinitely better.  Imagine if we really could understand – boredom would overwhelm us.

To illustrate complexity in a simple event, let’s take pounding a nail. 

What I'm doing

To friends, family, neighbors & people wondering why I spend so much time in coffee shops but still have calluses on my hands,

I recently accepted the role of Partnership Developer with Go Connect.  I am more excited about this opportunity than any other for many years.  It seems like much of my life has led me to and prepared me for this assignment. 

I am working with another local missionary, David Bilby, on a project called Neighbor LinkUp.  It is an interactive, Internet database that connects volunteers with the people and projects that need them.  Our mission is to fight against all forms of isolation, illness and poverty by connecting generations relationally to meet practical needs. 

Not So Little Details

I am so thankful every once in a while.

It should be more often, but when I am, I do not worry about that.

Because I am busy being thankful.

I am lost in the ideas before

And after the thankful comes.

Details are generous interrupters,

Reminders and awakers of my imagination.

I trip over their slow toes

As they dance in measured steps

In time with a loud heartbeat.

The smell of an old car that has served well and been appreciated.

Kisses softly on my wife’s throat while she waits.

Giggling children who are old too fast reminding.

The neighborhood hawk watching still on the wire for breakfast.

Last few beans bumping through the grinder by my hand.

That Brandon and Lulu at Golden Tusk know my 35a with six stars.

Heat finally under the dash and up my pant legs on a cold morning.

Freshly cleaned spectacles, warm and clear on my crooked nose.

That’s eight.