The Wind in my Headscarf

I do weird things. Just ask my husband. One of the fairly odd things that I do is drive sometimes as much as an hour away to different coffee shops to get my homework done (the library of course is far too quiet and boring). One of my chief reasons for going to a coffee shop to begin with is that if I stay home I can't ignore the distractions of things that need done. I do things like paint my entry door instead of writing a paper because that is the length I will go to avoid displeasure (if you follow the enneagram- I'm a very true 7). Why not paint something that has needed to be painted for years on a whim instead of putting laundry away or hey, writing that paper?! Makes total sense. I would tell you that the reason my local coffee shop (which I love) just won't do is because I see too many people I know there and thus spend my time "yackin" instead of writing which defeats my purpose. That is true. But the bigger truth is I am a creatively wired dog (I hate cats). To get myself to put words on a page about the topics that are the most mundane and painful for me (ahem...church history) I have to go somewhere that stimulates me. I travel to places where I feel different because I am most assuredly an outside observer. I write a few lines and then I drift and dream.

Considering that I live in the land of delft and dutch fronts where my community of 10,000 generally paints in 2 colors and hides behind the same cut-out's, it's not hard to find places that differ. There is a community just 15 minutes away with a coffee shop by the exact same name as one that we have. It provides the needed change of regular patronage. I go there for basic assignments and when I don't have time to travel. However, I have two favorite places to go. One is about an hour south of us and is home to the Maharishi school of the Age of Enlightenment. It is very colorful. There is a coffee shop that I enjoy, but even more so I love a little Turkish hole in the wall diner. I could spend hours there. The owners are friendly, the food is good, the wifi is free, and the customers are dynamic to say the least. I'd have an easy cast of characters if I could be working on a novel instead of my homework.

My second favorite place is a coffee shop in our nearest big city of Des Moines. It's in an area that I feel like most of my friends don't even know exists. Instead of climbing up onto the bypass to the shopping extravagance of the West side you just stay the course and roll right into the heart of the city. Most people think Des Moines is like the rest of Iowa and like my small town- flat and monochromatic. It is far more beautiful then that. I'm not sure why I always drive the distance to this particular cafe because it's always busy and I never land a corner booth with my back to the wall which is optimal for hiding and watching. Today I had to sit up at the bar (with other people!) that faces out to the street. At first I was annoyed because I don't like having my screen face into the room (someone might know I'm doing religiously related homework, or blogging, or both). But today it's given me an entirely different vista for which I'm grateful. There are all kinds of signs of spring outside. There is nothing green yet, but all kinds of people on the move. There are university students out doing a video project, tall thin white people in their mid 40's who've moved in to "elevate the neighborhood", poor people who live in the apartments down the block, unattended children playing ball, and other oddballs like me sitting in the coffee shop.

Then it happened. First a young man walked by with what looked to be a friend. They were followed by two small boys which makes me think he was actually some sort of aid worker instead of simply a friend. Then following them was a woman, a teenager, and preteen girl all with their heads covered in different but brilliant colors. They all passed like everyone else and ignored me and every other person in their path, but the girl looked up. She kept walking with her people but looked over her shoulder to smile at me. She waved. I smiled and waved back. This encounter doesn't necessarily make me focus on my homework or write any better. It does hearten me to the world and my fleeting place in it. It connects me to people and helps me to know beauty as I think God intended it to look. I am but a fleck in the world, but my connection to other humans matters. My assignment today is to write about the work of the holy spirit as it relates to the trinity and I do believe that her smile has helped me to remember the invocation that must be a part of this work.

Systematic theology is a “task that ventures a faithful, coherent, timely, and responsible articulation of the Christian faith” ( Migliore, Daniel L. Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology). For me, a responsible articulation of the Christian faith is not one that is painted only in blue and white. It is not born of privilege and articulated in a bubble. It does not encourage fear based understanding and it does not perpetuate strength for the strong. This young girls face has seared itself into my mind and will remain for a time. I pray for her. I pray for her family. If she is in fact a "new Iowan" as I suspect, I pray that she will not know the experience of depravity at the hands of Christians. I hope for her future and wish her joy and freedom. May her path be guided by the holy spirit and may the world return her greeting.

Save Part of Yourself for Me

I have this friend who is incredibly helpful, empathic, and intuitive. She's teaching a class at church about self-control with regard to food and how that can be linked to our spiritual journey. Last week in our group we were asked to set a goal. I hemmed and hawed, I looked around at my friends who were willingly setting small, solid, tangible, goals. It came back around to me again and I sort of froze. I said "I don't have one and I don't know what to say". It was the truth. In that moment, I didn't have anything to offer and I couldn't even tell you what was blocking my heart from spitting out some fumbled for meager response. I went with honest hoping she wouldn't push me too much in the space of that moment. She didn't of course. She handled me graciously and said "Kristin's goal then is to set a good goal next week". I shrugged it off thinking that whatever the silliness of that mood was would blow over, but still lacking a clear sense of why I couldn't set a goal and with still very little willingness to try.

I've been cleaning out my closet this week and I literally have clothes that range in size from 6 to 18. No joke. I've worn them all on this very body (that has never carried a baby mind you). I have no excuse. It's hard to believe that one body can stretch and shrink as much as it can. But it can! I've come to terms with the fact that I'll probably never wear a 6 again even with hard work enough to move a mountain. I've also made my own personal vow that I will never, ever shop for size 18 again. When you hold these sizes together it's incredibly hard to believe that one person could wear them. I try to envision a young emaciated Kate Moss wearing a size 12 and chuckle that it is in fact possible. (Side note, there is nothing wrong with these specific sizes for any body. Each person is differently created. I'm lamenting about what's right for my body and my battle with consistency in this area of my life). All this to say, when you lose a bunch of weight, continue the journey of working hard, and feel "ok" about how you look it's easy to just feel great about holding steady. My size 12's are awesome. Eat clean, work hard, what more goal do I need?

I went to the gym tonight after having not gone at all last week and just a couple of times the week before. My wonderful friend said- "yay you, way to go, I'm glad you're here"(Isn't she wonderful? I promise she's real and not even imaginary). I said "my goal is to always make Monday's because if I skip Monday the rest of the week falls apart, but if I make it in on Mondays then I don't want to undo all of the work I start". She followed with the question "what changed". Ooh, life question. What had changed? I hadn't done anything remarkable that I could remember. But suddenly there I was telling my gym to watch out because I was coming for it with my "fierce face" back on and my "fat pants" gathered proudly round my "I belong here" hard working booty. All I could muster up in response was "I have a job interview this week" (Woot!)... "I guess I've been a little depressed lately". Wow- that actually came out of my mouth. I'm the strong one, the one that helps others. Depressed? Really? Me? She asked if I'd share some of what's really been going on in my personal life with our group and I shrugged and actually said "I only share my good stories, not when I'm the one that's the loser". (Yup- I said that awful thing and I meant it).

I then proceeded to my car. I'm a big believer that God speaks to us in whispers in moments that we sometimes barely grasp. On the radio was a song by an artist that I adore named Brandi Carlile. She's amazing (she sang the national anthem at the Seahawks playoff game this year if that helps you to know her). The beautiful, secular little ditty on the Coffeehouse acoustic station was called "Save Part of yourself for me". I read that on the screen, perked up at the amazingness of how even just the title was hitting me right between the eyes and proceeded to sit in the parking lot and cry. The song is about two lovers, but if you amend small phrases here and there it was in that moment about my loneliness, my journey, my relationship with God, and my longing to be myself again.

Given the current circumstances of what's been going on with me with my education, my career, and our dreams to adopt (all at once... why do our learning moments always have to be so colossal) I'd say I've done a good job of "hanging onto me". I've been understandably sad, but I've kept a beat on personal growth inspired by all the changes and redirection. My gym (said in a loud and proud tone) was the first place I went when bits started coming untethered. My gym people (much like my church community who were also very present with me) helped to anchor me and remind me of who I am. I still belonged at my gym. I still enjoyed my gym. My gym and the community within wasn't going to turn on me, only cheer me on. Yet, slowly as I learned to fill time that I never had the luxury of before with bouts of idleness I also became complacent. It's easier to just "keep going" when your in motion, but there is something much more difficult about "getting going". So like a slow leak in a tire I drifted away from my goals. I didn't gain tons of weight (a little), but I did lose my focus. So, the question came "what are you doing" and I fritzed out. But now this path has lead me back. My friends have called me home. I remember truths that are bigger than lies and I can't wait to achieve and accomplish life once again.

Just. like. that.

"life goes on, yeah life goes on"...

I will save part of myself for you.



Lyrics: "Save Part Of Yourself"

The sun came up and five years gone
Life goes on, yeah, life goes on
I wonder how you're gettin' by
The sun goes down and I feel blue
Now I toss 'cause my mind's on you
And I kind of miss your broken smile

Save part of yourself for me
Won't you save part of yourself for me?

I remember you and me
Lost and young and dumb and free
And unaware of years to come
Just a whisper in the dark
On the pavement in the park
You taught me how to love someone

So save part of yourself for me
Won't you save part of yourself for me?

When we walk into the sun
Or burn below for what we've done
Will you still call out for me?
Turn to light or fade to black
You don't look back, no, you don't look back
At what you might not wanna see

But save part of yourself for me
Won't you save part of yourself for me?

The sun goes down and five years gone
Life goes on, yes, life goes on
I hope you caught up with your dreams
I hope you saved part of yourself for me

Won't you save part of yourself for me?
Save part of yourself for me