Indulging

I do not have discipleship class tonight and so I am indulging. Indulging in enjoyment of the day. It's been a while now since I've had an ENTIRE day free from some kind of obligation. I am not saying obligations are bad and I myself made the choice to obligate myself to take a discipleship class at my church here. But, I have to admit, today just feels luscious. It feels luscious even with a headache, which usually ruins my day, but my soul is so relaxed, I don't even mind it so much. Plus, last night God told me I'd have a headache and that I'd need to drink lots of water today. Last night, I indulged, too.
I have a good friend here who I love and it has been a long time since I've spent time with her and her boyfriend, who I also love. We made plans to hang out and watch the World Series at her house (since I have no cable at my house), but plans changed and so we went out for pizza and I asked the boyfriend to tell me his side of the 'how I fell in love with her' story. The beauty is that he was eager and willing to tell even though there was a boxing match on and his mouth was filled with pizza. Claro esta, we had to take breaks every now and then as his eyes wandered to watch some guys throw some punches, but that was to be expected. After dinner we actually ended up back at her house where there was wine and chocolate. I don't drink wine all that often and especially not living here because we need to be careful witnesses in an alcoholic culture, but when I do get to have a glass, I savor it. And with dark chocolate. Why is God so good? Anyway, then my friend put on some rich tunes to go along with the rich evening and THEN... pulled out the art supplies. Talk about indulgence. I grabbed some conte crayons and just started drawing what was right in front of me. It happened to be my glass of wine. As I was drawing, I thought about Jesus sharing his last meal on earth with his disciples before he was crucified. I felt his tension as he was reclining at the table, a glass of wine before him, thinking about what he was about to go through. Would his closest and dearest friends understand the symbology if he tried sharing with them? Would they understand the connection between his blood and the wine they were drinking-- a common thing? I saw his fingers lightly touch the stem of the cup, his eyes gazing into the deep dark. "I will not drink of the vine again until I come..." Catching the sound of his voice, his fellows turn their heads to look at him. What was he saying?
I can't imagine how Jesus felt on that night. How he must feel now, waiting in anticipation for the day when he will again drink of the vine with his companions at the wedding banquet. What seemed like a simple indulgence to me last night, turned into a deep longing to be intimate with Christ, the lover I am waiting to see, with whom I will share a cup of the vine-- the best wine which he saved for last. I am my beloved's and he is mine; his banner over me is love.
Today feels luscious as I indulge in the love of the one who is, who was and who is to come...

Hop, Skip, Jump

I had the most wonderful birthday (it was on October 2nd for those who are wondering). Just kidding. The day of I was actually really sick and slept through most of it, but the following night, some friends came over and we watched Amelie, one of my favorite movies. And Katie made this decadent chocolate dessert from scratch that was the best thing I've ever put in my mouth.
And, because we only get mail once every two weeks here, I finally got my birthday packages yesterday!!! I already thanked my mom, who sent cool stuff, but especially great was a framed photo of my bro and best-nephew-in-the-whole-world Gabriel. I love him. Them, I mean. And THEN I got to open a package from a woman who was here on a team back in the Spring. Marilyn. She's from Connecticut and so encouraged me when she was here. She sent me a book from 1947 from a wise saint that I cannot wait to start reading. As well, she sent me...A BRAND NEW PAIR OF CONVERSE!!!! I still can't get over it. For those of you who know me well, I live in Chuck Taylors. Lo-tops, not high tops because hi-tops are too hot and you can't wear them with shorts and dresses well. Anyway, the ones I brought down here with me, my beloved burgundys, have gotten completely thrashed from being worn in El Callejon all summer (if you don't know where El Callejon is, you need to be reading these blogs more, really...). They are still so very comfy, but are caked in mud and paint, etc and so are no longer church-worthy. Many of you may be thinking that wearing Converse to church is a little bit, um, not pretty, but whatever. I sometimes wear girly shoes to church, too. I actually just got a pair of coppery-metalic sandals that are really cute and...
But, I have a new pair of Converse and I love them so much I almost slept in them last night. I used to always sleep in my new shoes when I was a little girl. In fact, 'shoe' was my first word. I was four months old. My dad says that I was laying on my stomach on the carpet right in front of his size 11 Clarks and very clearly said, 'shoe!'. I didn't speak again until 7 months later. I always say I was prophesying over my own life: "Go into all the World..." "How beautiful on the mountain are the feet of those who bring the good news". Hey, if God can use a donkey, surely he can use a four month old.
I still like shoes a whole lot, but since they are not as easily accessible down here and I live on a healthy budget, receiving a brand new pair of my favorite kind of shoes is an incredible blessing.
Thank you Marilyn for the love.