Wishing I Were A Photographer

But I'm not. And perhaps it's better because there are some things I want to show you that can't be photographed. The woman on the subway would have considered it an imposition if I had drawn close to her and snapped the lines on her face, the vacant, fixed look on her eyes, the way her shoulders pulled forward though she was carrying nothing material. I would have stolen something from her, and she would have glared, and stepped away. So I memorized her for you. I memorized her as she saw past and through me, and never knew I existed. Her eyes were clearish green.

I want to show you the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. If Christen were here, she'd take pictures, and maybe you'd see it. You'd walk with her camera into the biggest cathedral in the world and feel for the first time the weight of Job's words, "Do you have an arm like God's,
and can your voice thunder like his?"
You'd feel irreverent for not falling to your knees, or you'd fall to your knees, as you realized how small you are, and how massive God is, and how you are at His mercy.

I wish I could show you the sideways rain in NYC, and how hard we laughed, soaked and freezing with umbrellas bent backwards, when the city tried to blow us back to Texas (We stood our ground).

I've been in New York City for five days. I've been walking miles a day, sipping coffee and interviewing pastors and ministers who profess love for God and love for their city. Men and women who eat, breathe, and live New York. Who strive to understand and serve their neighbors, who long to be faithful with what they've been given. I've met Presbyterians, Anglicans, Baptists, Atheists, Pluralists, Feminine Theologians, Counselors, Academics. To say I'm overwhelmed is an understatement. We've sat with some very experienced church planters, writers, theologians, hippies... and my head is swimming with words, ideas, and dreams. I got pretty worked up about it earlier but I've decided for the night to not take myself altogether too seriously.

What I mean by that is these men and women are exhorting us to serve God in their context. My context tonight is my roommate Chelsea and our lovely hosts. So tonight I'll serve them, and the people praying for me by updating my blog. And I'll listen to some beautiful music and worship my gracious Lord who cares for me and helps me to care for others.

And I'll think about the city and my future, but not now. Tonight I'm going horizontal, and praying for sweet dreams. Love to you, my friends.

First Impressions

Today was a day like any other. I rocked, I boomed, I carried the world forward. I moved and swayed and towered and held within me bustling cold business. It rained, and they went out anyway. They hid beneath my awnings, yelled when cabs drove by and muddied their boots. But I stood like a rock, foundations deep, not minding at all about the aching, moaning, screeching, singing, of a few. There were millions. I had to think of the mass, not the parts.

Two Texans came, feeling pretty big. Didn’t take them long to be cut down to size. Standing in Time Square, soaking and lost, wide eyed. I took note, boomed, they shook and scurried.

-New York (as interpreted by frenzied Abby)

a day in the life

Today has been so shimmery I think I should write it. At the same time I fear that writing now, 17 minutes before midnight, may somehow take away from it. I'm not sure I've enough skill to write shimmer, and I'm so tired and filled up that my bed wants to wrap me up and pull me underneath at once. Still, I'll try.

My roommate and I woke up, emptied our desks and hauled them to a West Dallas garage sale. We are not moving anytime soon, but they were having a sale and we realized we don't ever use our desks. They serve mostly as what my dad poetically termed, "crap-stackers." So we emptied them and whisked off to a garage sale. Along the way we had confession, tears, good conversation and some earl gray tea. When we got back, I had to laugh at the stacks of stuff piled up in my room. I whined, "Chels, I don't know what to do with this stuff," to which she replied, "look! more room for piles!" I thought this was great, and now I think I like my pile room better than my room with a pretend desk where work was never done. I prefer to work at the kitchen table or my couch or the coffee shop or any place but that desk. Now, I have piles.

I felt cleansed from getting rid of something I don't need, and from good honest hard conversation with my roommate who loves me without judgment.

Next I caught up with my baby sister on the phone and we laughed and exhorted one another and watched for truth in our conversation, and I organized my piles. Shortly after, I went to a local nursery to browse their flowers and spices. I decided I wanted to grow things, but that now I can't. So I will someday. Someday, I will have a garden.

Then a friend called with a direct answer to prayer. We went to White Rock Coffee and he poured truth into me and we prayed and I understood things more. And that is ambiguous and unclear but he was a good friend to me and I needed one.

Then I went for a walk at my lake. (White Rock Lake is my lake. It is also a lot of other people's, and we get along quite well). White Rock Lake hosts the most eccletic group of people a lake has ever hosted, and I couldn't help smiling watching the old men who take care of the ducks, the spandex people, the hippie hula hoopers (I was secretly jealous of them), the girl walking in silver stilettos, and the couples wrapped around each other around a bench around the lake, soaking up the sun's reflection on the water. I wished I were a photo-journalist, and I would have done an essay on love at white rock lake. A brother pushing his sister on her training wheels bike and the girl in the stiletto's with her boyfriend would have had the central focus.

I came back, got super cute, and my picked up my friend for a completely unbelievable evening. She had two free tickets to Savor Dallas, and she gave them to us! This event hosts sixty of Dallas' finest chefs offering samples of their best dishes over 400 wines. For $175 you can eat/drink as much as you desire. I had NEVER had food like this. Steak tartar, lobster bisque and the winner of the World's Best Chocolate award four years running... We walked around for hours, tasting, talking and listening to a band whose lead singer had one of those smooth-twenties voices and the big silver stand microphone to go with it. He sang and between the people watching, the fancy food tasting, and the laughter and live music, I was well filled up, and pinching myself to see if it was real.

So I started the day at a garage sale and ended the day with Dallas socialites. In between I had flowers at a nursery and beautiful conversation. I am... tickled, and so grateful.