(xaris and shalom)

It was pouring . (photo credit to Ben Rumeau) Such that by the time I crossed the three (small) parking lots between Panera and Aldi, my shoes were soggy and squeaking and my pants were drenched well above my knees.  I went past all of the people who were watching the rain pound down from the shelter of the overhang and zipped through the aisles to grab my two bags of oranges and two bags of carrots and hamburger buns.  (See?  I did buy something that wasn't orange!) I checked out, loaded up my trusty backpack, and still had about twenty minutes before my bus was due.  I may be willing to wade through a embryonic flood zone to get groceries, but I'm not quite so masochistic to want to stand in chilly rain for twenty minutes waiting for a bus.  Particularly when it's the type of rain that seems to be determined to ignore my umbrella and soak me anyway.  So I took a seat on the bagging counter.  (Don't judge me too harshly.  Several other people were doing the same thing.

What comes to mind when you think of ministry? To give you fair warning, I considered titling this post "I do not think that word means what I think it means." August 2012 I sat in a large room in a hotel in Beijing with my fellow students/teachers-in-training, listening to Amy warn us about ministry. shenanigans while waiting for class to start Whoever you think you're here to minister to, whatever you think your ministry will look like -- you're wrong!  she told us.  And because she's Amy, she told us stories that illustrated her point. She had come to China to minister to students -- and ended up with bacterial meningitis, being ministered to  by these same students. Another year, a team of younger teachers came to visit her team every weekend .  She hadn't gone to China to mentor them!  But they kept showing up.  She laughed as she told this story, because one of those "younger teachers" had gone on to become director of the program that all of

It was early morning and I was setting up the food line at Panera, listening to a few last songs on my mp3 player as I woke up, before we opened the doors to customers.  Scraps of thoughts floated through my head. Did I see music in here by a group called Everyone You Love Will Be Happy in the End?  (It's actually "Soon" not "in the End," and an album, not a group.  Oh well.) That's kind of creepy. What if it was true though?  What if I really was sure that everyone who I loved would  be happy in the end?  Would know and love God? That would be awesome. But maybe then I'd just be lazy and be like, cool, well, everything will work out fine. Or. Or maybe.... I'd try to love everyone. To really love them. And that thought has been haunting me a bit ever since.  Because I love many people, but there are many who I don't really love. And they are all image-bearers. And I long to love better. The end of all things is at hand; therefore  be self-control

I take a lot more pictures since I got an ipod touch.  It's easy to pull it out of my pocket and snap a shot. They aren't the best quality, but I like the assortment that accumulates over time; little pieces of my days that give a feel of how they go and what's important to me. So here are a few. Spices.  I love how the colors and textures blend even before we get to the taste and smells! This.  Cracked me up.  I had to send it to some friends, reminiscing about the time we found opium  scented candles in China.   Wedding cake after David and Alexandra said their vows! So.... mayyyyybe my sister Abbie knows me pretty well.  She brought this lovely glass clock back for me from Italy.  Please note: colorful.  Deciduous tree.  WIN. Living somewhere flatter than PA leads to getting to see a lot of awesome skyscapes.   Like mayyyyybe it's actually worth getting up before 5 to go to work so I get to see this sort of thing. Also, I have awesome friends.  I asked for a quiz boo