I love that a young man was completely and instantly healed from a cold at UMKC yesterday. I love that a young woman on the track team was completely healed from an ankle injury, and back to running moments after prayer. I love that another young woman’s whole countenance changed when I interrupted her jaunt down the sidewalk to pray for her.
I love that Jesus spoke to my new 16-year-old friend Josh at Collective last night while we were sitting in the living room, reading the Easter story. He told me in kitchen as we washed dishes later that he felt God say he didn’t have to be like Judas, but that he could be like the man on the cross next to Jesus that wanted to enter the Kingdom.
I love that God lives in my house. No, really… He does.
I love telling people who have been Kansas City born and bred that I live two blocks east of Troost on 39th Street. I love confusing the heck out of people as I try to describe my life.
I love running. Fast. Faster and harder than I have since high school. I love that running with someone faster than me has made me faster without even knowing it.
I love my kitchen. I love the million and a half life-changing conversations that happen in the kitchen over dish-washing. I love making medicinal herbal tea for a teen mom’s tummy ache. I love the contrast of TV dinners in the microwave and raw food being chopped or blended simultaneously. I love that there is joking and tears. Laughing and hard words too. I love the water fights. I love the spontaneous hugs. I love that I have two roommates who sit at the kitchen table at seven in the morning with coffee and their Bibles. And two other roommates who sit at the same table at 2am with tea and Hawaiian punch – all encountering some form of righteousness.
I love cleaning big, fancy houses. I love praying for the upper-middle class mid-towners while I scrub their floors. Then traipsing back over to the “other” side of town, home to my beloved ghetto people.
I love green grass. And green leaves. Especially edible green leaves. That turn into green smoothies.
I love teamwork. I love praying for strangers with my friends. Planning summer adventures with my friends. Strategizing about interventions with my friends. Processing and venting with my friends. Grocery shopping with my friends. Washing dishes with friends. Cleaning houses with friends. Sharing the gospel, sharing smoothies, sharing everything. The word “co-laborer” is like music to my ears these days.
I love communion. I love that Jesus couldn’t wait to share the practice of communion with His dearest friends on the night before He endured the most epic tragedy of all time and successfully interrupted history. I love that I get to partake in communion with friends at least once or twice a week.
I love Angel. She is the shiny spot in my days. I can’t imagine how a child could be created more beautifully or more dearly. She is absolutely delightful in every way. I love Bubba. I have yet to meet such a handsome little man. He constantly surprises me with the incredible amounts of strength, courage, and sense of adventure that are packed into his buff little 18-month old body. I love the way their little arms wrap around my neck, I love to hear their newfound words, I love kissing all their boo-boos away. I have never enjoyed any children in the world as much as I thoroughly enjoy these two. I never even knew it was possible to like kids as much as I like these ones.
I love BBM. So much grander than texting. Blackberry Messenger tells me when my message has been delivered, when its been read, and when you are in the middle of writing me back.
I love salad. So much salad. Gobs and heaps and massive bowls full of greens and sprouts and red peppers and green onions and seeds or nuts and citrus dressings or salt & pepper.
I love that He leads us in paths of right-relating for His name’s sake. Truly.
I love the young people in our home. I love the teenage guys and girls that come through our doors each day. I love meeting them, making them feel like they’ve come to a real home, hearing their stories, and speaking courage into their vulnerable lives. Every last one is a treasure. I feel so honored each time a new one comes, especially when I get to see a glimpse into their pasts and their destinies. Who gets to see the wealth of humanity in the urban core like this?
I love feeling good. Thank you, raw food. I love having energy and stamina to own every minute of my days.
I love my dates with the Lord. Of late, we’ve been rendezvousing for an hour or two a day at various places in the city. I am finally remembering what it is to just enjoy being with Him. I am finally remembering what it means to be in love with His Presence. The days that seemed so long-lost are finally being revived. These are the moments I live for.
I love that my hairdresser thinks I live in a commune.
I love that when I get into my car, some kind of gospel rap is blaring on the radio. It reminds me where I live, and who I’ve embraced… (like I could really forget, ha.)
I love my Dyson vacuum cleaner. Except when it sucks up a whole sock and stops working. Like today. Oops.
I love that I have people who love me enough to be direct with me. Who will voice what I need to hear, whether or not they think I will like it. I love that I have friends dear enough to let me cry, let me be angry, hold me, and make space for my messiness. I love that I have friends who think I’m funny and will just willingly laugh at my silliness.
I love that the Holy Spirit loves trippy. I love that He enjoys freaking me out with the random and the bizzare-o.
Oh these days…. There is just so much life just spilling out everywhere. He is invading our every space, our every last nook and cranny. Look! Look, there is more room now and all the new spaces have been filled with Him. Look… He is here. And He is coming. But He is here already. And He is coming more and more and more. The boundary lines HAVE fallen in pleasant places. And yes, I do have a good inheritance. He HAS brought me into a broad place, a wide open space. He has rescued me because He has sheer delight over me and my life. I am much loved.
I AM MUCH LOVED.
And bounty is accessible to me. Here I live, in the midst of a dark night in a barren wasteland… and yet I sit in the middle of a fire that burns more brightly by the minute. I am a Friend of Jesus. I am a Friend of the One who willingly put Himself into a hell-hole and stayed in perfect, continual conversation and heart engagement with His super-loving Dad the whole entire time. I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, but I fear nothing. I am having way too much fun walking through this valley of horrid oppression, because I am tucked into the arm of the OH-So-Good Shepherd.
Its a story that feels too good to be true, but is absolutely my present reality.