Barefoot in the Grass

The close of yesterday left me thinking that if I stay here, in Omaha, in fellowship with these people, for the rest of my days, that would be okay with me. That usually means something is up ahead that's going to trip me up, but for now I am reveling in the feeling of... what is it?... home. Wow. I never thought I'd write those words about this city.

But it's true. It was a weekend full of pictures of community in action. On Saturday morning, I joined some people from the college group at the Bemis, where we helped Annie clean the second floor studios. It was cool to see so many people out on Saturday morning, serving those artists. Saturday night, after church, a girl got baptized. At Standing Bear Lake. At 9:30 at night. In the rain. In April. I thought she was very brave. It was cool to see so many out there as witnesses, huddled under umbrellas and hoodies, praying and singing together in the rain.

After the baptism, our group went to Old Chicago for a late dinner. Randy, Aleeta and I sampled all of the "beer flights" the place has to offer. It wasn't actually a lot of beer (one pint per person), but it looked like it. As you can see, it took up the whole table. It was a good time with good friends.



Yesterday after church, Tom hosted a cook-out at his house, and a whole herd of us gathered in the backyard and played ball. I was wearing boots, so had to go barefoot in order to play. I know it's a bit of a cliche, but there is nothing like the feeling of barefeet in the grass! And I actually hit the ball once. It was exciting. I would've made it home, too, if David hadn't conveniently fallen down in my path. Cheater.

In the afternoon, Tabitha and I (and eventually Charlotte) went on a walk in Tabitha's neighborhood. There are some beautiful homes around there, so it provided a welcome change in scenery. I talked with Tabitha about how I've been feeling distant from God lately, how my prayer life has been dry. She encouraged me to switch things up- to find new times and places to get together with Him. This morning, the verse I read was exactly what I needed to light the fire again:

O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.
-Psalm 63:1

I prayed when I drove to work. I have a 20-25 minute commute, and it never before occurred to me to pray. But today I did and it made for a great, refreshing start for a Monday. That in itself was an answer to prayer: that I'd find time each day to connect.

It was a good day. I even got to have lunch with Michaela, who is back in town from London. I always love catching up with her. She's becoming quite the Brit, referring to guys as blokes and such. It was great seeing her.

Right now I am watching the Indians-Yankees game on ESPN. Cleveland is winning. Oh, crap. They just tied. At the Y tonight I was a little too excited that this game was on TV. I don't know what's happening to me. I'm watching baseball, and in a few minutes I'm going to watch my newest obsession, a show about high school football. It's very odd.

The Yankees just scored again. I better turn this off. Uncle Joe says that I'm throwing off the baseball universe by caring about this team this year. I don't want their loss to be my fault, so I best go hop in the shower and let the game go...

Walking in the Rain

Tauna called me tonight with the terribly tempting suggestion that I skip work tomorrow so I can go to the Twins vs. Indians game in Minneapolis with her tomorrow night. Trust me, it was a very appealing proposition. Today I've just felt this overwhelming desire to run away, and if I didn't have two huge deadlines facing me at work, that game would've been my ticket out of here. I've just been feeling crummy. Traces of some of the things that I was so depressed about last summer have started to resurface. The worst part of it is that I simply can't cry anymore.

It's true. These past few months I have been, as Aroea so eloquently put it, emotionally constipated. Remember my post about how I was in need of a good cry? That was in early February, and not a lot has happened for me there since then, over two months later. I finally did break down the day I returned from my last trip to Iowa, but I have to admit that it was pretty forced.

I know this post probably sounds pretty weird to a lot of you. After all, crying usually is equated with sadness, and who wants to be sad? Why would I want to cry? A few months back, Charlotte and I tried to explain it to Matt on our drive back from a concert. As a guy, he said he just doesn't understand our desire to cry. We explained that it's simply about needing to let it all out. It's not that I want to be sad; it's more that I already am sad about some stuff, and I just need to deal with it by letting it all out. It's a cleansing process. There's this Sara Groves song that I love that goes:

oh, to take off your skin and start over again
oh, to lay on your back and cry
the kind that leaves you puffy-eyed,
bleated with strange peace inside...

the kind that comes to wash your soul,
scrub you clean and leave you whole...

That's the kind of cry that I want, the puffy-eyed, soul-cleansing kind.

On the phone tonight, I told Tauna about my frustration, about how I just want to cry and be done with it already. She suggested I take a walk. I laughed at the idea. It's cold and dreary and rainy and I was already in my PJs. "What do you mean 'rainy'?" she asked. "Is it above 40 degrees? If it is, go. The rain will be good for you. It should remind you of your baptism, and how God is still cleansing you."

And so I went. I put on a sweatshirt, a stocking cap, and my tennis shoes and walked around the neighborhood and prayed. I didn't cry (ha!), but it was still unbelievably refreshing. I prayed through a lot of the issues I've been struggling with, prayed for the people that have been on my heart lately, and as I approached our house, I threw my arms up in the air and essentially prayed, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."

He's not done breaking me yet, and I know He never will be. There's a lot of junk inside of me to break down, a lot of places that need to be washed clean. Who knows- maybe one of these days I'll even be able to cry about it.

some reasons to smile

To my loyal fans: I have returned to the blogosphere.

On one of the blogs I read, the author recently posted a simple list of things he's been smiling about recently, so I thought I would steal his format as a way to summarize the past few weeks:

• Babies are cute. I went to Iowa a few weeks back and got to visit Leslie, Matt, Nolan and the newest Anderson, Reese. Nolan is talking some now, and it was fun reading books with him and being able to sit and hold his baby sister. I also got to spend a few hours with my dear Aroea and her boys. Cainen is so big when you compare him to his little brother, whom he calls Jo-Jo. I simply adore that whole family.
• I have great friends. While in Iowa, I also got to spend time with Ann and Ben at Paul Nichols' wedding reception. They are just so good to me. And then I got to see Staci and Greg in Cedar Rapids. I don't know Greg all that well, so when we sat down at Olive Garden, I said, "Greg, please tell me your story. You're marrying my Staci Mae here, and I don't know much about you. So start talking." And he did. He's a good guy.
  
• Kathi Pudzuvelis is still delightfully crazy. I was able to have an impromptu dinner with her when in Cedar Rapids. Once a year or so, I find I need a good dose of Kathi to recharge my dramatic side. She's just so eccentric. She wanted me to tell "everyone" hello, and a promise is a promise: Everyone, Kathi Pudzuvelis says hello.
  
• I'm a girl who values a good tradition. Charlotte, Beth and I hosted our group's second annual Easter party the Saturday night before and then went over to the Whitneys' on Sunday for Easter dinner. We sat at the "intermediate" table with Melissa and Randy, who made a lot of jokes about mine and Charlotte's "hooker boots". Very spiritual and edifying Easter conversation, that's for sure.
• I love Tauna. Enough said.
• Baseball season has begun. I may not share the same level of excitement about it all as Tauna, Wendy, and Natalee Chromy do, but I'm taking baby steps in that direction. I've actually been following Cleveland's scores so far. The other night I found out that Cleveland beat the White Sox before Dad did. That's not normal.
• I broke 100 bowling last Sunday. Twice. For me, that's really good.
  
• Margaret Becker and Cindy Morgan have returned. Years and years before Sara Groves or Andrew Peterson, I was a tad bit obsessed with the music of Cindy Morgan and Margaret Becker. I mean, this goes back to middle school. And now they both have new music either out or in the works, and I'm excited about it. I like music. It makes me happy.
• I also like sleep. A lot.
  

I'm dog-sitting for Jonelle and Tim this week while they are off on another one of their Caribbean cruises. Izzy's a cute little thing, but I've been abnormally nervous about the whole thing all week. I've never been much of an animal person, nor am I the best when it comes to being responsible for other life forms (just ask my dad how many of the plants that he's given me died before their time). Why Jonelle asked me is beyond me. But I'm thankful for the opportunity. So far, so good. Charlotte put it so well: "Nicole, someday you may have children, and they will expect you not to kill them. So it's good that you are practicing not killing things with this dog. Plus, you get to stay at Jonelle's and Tim's all week and watch their big TV." And, just like that, Beth decided it was time to buy a "Big Ass TV" of her very own. But that's another story for another time....