drones...

so yesterday i walked into the kitchen and my hubby was reading this article (http://www.wired.com/dangerroom/2009/08/drone-strike-apparently-kills-pakistan-taliban-chief/). i saw that it was an article from wired mag and when it comes to articles about gadgets and the like i am quick to shut down. big words and random new gizmos usually keep me from engaging when he is reading this magazine. i asked him (admittedly, not really caring), "hey, what are you reading?" and he replied, "oh, this article about UAV's and killing the taliban."

now, i have seen the movies. i guess i live in some strange world where i just think that most everything i see on tv isn't actually happening. up until this point that's what i thought about little machines running around, fighting our battles for us. we chatted a few minutes about the article and left it at that.

however, it has really got me thinking. there has been this nagging question in the back of my mind all day....shouldn't something that one believes is worth killing for be worth risking their own lives for as well? mind you this comes from my idealistic, pacifist, non-violent "can't we just all get along" heart. however, it is an important question to ask. i'm beginning to really think that there may be things that one should be willing to die for, but so little (if anything) that one should be willing to kill for. this whole drones, UAV, robot warfare thing seems to be the opposite. when it come down to it i guess i just wonder, if we are going to be fighting this war, shouldn't we fight it and not let r2d2 do our dirty work?

a brown necklace

it was nearly 20 months ago that i got this amazing necklace. a few days after judah was born my dear friend carolyn came over bearing christmas gifts. it snowed a lot the week of christmas that year, so snow covered the ground. a christmas tree with all the right"trimmings" and this new little baby boy accompanied our gift exchange. she brought a bright orange monkey and a book, "la estrella de navid," for the new one. for me, i got this cute red sweater vest and this amazing brown necklace.

i barely made it out of bed that day for the gift exchange. i was still in the same polka-dotted robe and red flannel pajama pants that i had worn for days (it would be the standard outfit for weeks to come). i was tired and still in some pain from the hardest and most beautiful thing i had done in my life to that point, giving birth to a son.

i snuck upstairs after our gift exchange to put away all the new treasures. i remember the moment so clearly. i went to put the necklace away in the bathroom. just before i did, i draped it around my neck and looked at my self in the mirror. i began to cry. i cried because i was pretty sure i would never be at a place in my life where i would wear the necklace again. all i could see in that moment was this new life that had been flipped on its head overnight. i cried because i wasn't sure when the 3 hour "naps" would be over. i cried because learning how to breast feed (something i thought would be far more "natural" than it really was), take care of and love this new little life was so much harder than i thought before. i wasn't sure that night if i would ever get out of my polka-dotted bathrobe. i was scared, tired and felt alone. the next weeks would be the hardest of my life. in no way were they the glamorous "motherhood" moments i had dreamed of just weeks before when this little life was just kicking inside me. i felt defeated. i put the necklace in my jewelry box and walked away. a feeling of despair welled up inside me.

yesterday, i wore the necklace. i didn't even think about it when i put it on. it was during the middle of our "morning routine" (getting juice, drinking coffee, making oatmeal and sitting around the kitchen table) when the memory of that moment in the bathroom came to me. i paused for a moment and smiled. i made it. we made it. there was a hilarious toddler in the background saying "thank you mommy" that proved it.

there have been moments this past month were i have had a similar feeling of despair. it was good to be reminded of god's faithfulness in that moment. it caused me to pause for the day and intentionally remember just where i have come from. god has been so faithful. "oh you of little faith, just believe," echos in my ear today and begs me to have a posture towards thankfulness.

...dancing shoes...

so the last few weeks have been a little rough. not going to lie. i have felt off and stressed out. my brain is always going. trying to solve the issue that surround my world. usually pertaining to work and my place in this world (yes casey, some things never change). this means i have been on a journey trying to find the "who in me." i have been meeting with a friend/mentor to talk through and dig deeper into ME. we've been thinking through what i am good at, what i may need to work on and how to move and be closer to the person that god made me to be. (of course if you have thoughts or insight into this you are welcome to share...)

all of this to attempt to allow the "who" in me to dictate the "what" i put my energy towards. it is a no brainer that i am passionate particularly around issues of injustice and seeing the people of god arise to bring hope, life, healing and peace into the center of those places. i know i am getting close to a few really key elements of the who and what i'll spend some time focusing in on (although i have finally realized that this is probably a life long journey...so that has to be forward progress for me)! but in this process there have been moments of what i would call despair and a longing to just pull away...

and tonight we went dancing!

a group from the church we've been going to (ECV, elm city vineyard) had a salsa lesson/dance party for their home group and invited us. it was strange dancing with a bunch of people that i don't really know yet, learning a few new moves in salsa (i've been begging kimbal to take salsa lessons for oh about 6 years now) and just having this moment of letting go.

the salsa dancing eventually turned into a tour through music and the classics of each era (including the key dances during those times) we laughed historically while doing the running man and roger rabbit to a myriad of 80's one-hit-wonders. i've never been a great dancer but i have always loved to bust a move. it was nice. i was reminded to stop in the midst of this world and just dance. hopefully that will be a good thing to remember in this process of discovering me. knowing i'm one who needs to stop, dance and let go...not to mention that it in so many ways it encompasses the world we are fighting, hoping, waiting for.

so in your kitchen, shower, or with baby in arm turn the radio up and in the words of young MC "bust a move."