Send Me a Girl who Reads

I think I have a slight crush on Donald Miller. Regardless of what he looks like or how old he is. I love the way he writes, his voice. It's full of description and poetry and everyday genuineness, and I love reading his books. I just finished Through Painted Deserts. It's amazing how much time I have to read now that I no longer have homework to do.

In two weeks, that will change. But for now, I'm enjoying the down time. Except for the fact that everyone in Sioux Center is realizing that I am going away to British Columbia in two weeks, and they are suddenly all inviting me to do things. Let's not kid ourselves, though; I love the busyness too.

Back to Donald Miller: I have often found that he expresses things that I have been thinking, but don't know how to say. Or his reflections let me know that I am not the only one in the world who thinks about things a certain way. When I read Don Miller's stuff, I am reminded of wonder. Wonder at God's presence, at his creation. Wonder at my own insignificance. Wonder at how a Being so big and incomprehensible limits itself to know and care about me. Don Miller reminds me why I think that having a relationship with Jesus is important.

Another author who reminds me of the beauty and excitement is Ann Kiemel (now Anderson). My mom gave me two of Ann's books at Christmas. Apparently, this lady was popular back in the 80s. She writes in a reflective, poetry/prose way, and I love it! Her reflections on life and faith and what God is doing also remind me why I want to follow Jesus. Like Ann says, I serve a BIG GOD, and he can do awesome things through me.

I have decided that reading is good for me. I easily become bogged down in the details of my life, and I can get tired and frustrated and discouraged. I feel anxious about the future, or I just fret a lot because I have a lot of questions and only time will provide the answers. When I read, I have something else to focus on. More than that, I have something that draws me into a bigger picture of life. Reading is like sharing someone else's story, and seeing how it fits with my own. When I read, I'm reminded of the kind of person I want to be, the kinds of things I want to focus on, the kinds of things I want to learn about.

In short, my advice is this: find a good book, a good author, sit down in the silence, and be inspired.

All Will Be Well

One of my friends winked at me this week. No, it was not suggestive (he's quite committed to his girlfriend), and no, I did not feel creeped out. Actually, it made me feel quite good. We were sitting in a seminar, eating pizza and presenting what we learned this semester, and when our eyes met, he winked. Perhaps he didn't even mean to, but I caught it. Then I was thinking about what other people might think if they had been winked at, and why I immediately like it so much when someone winks at me.

I decided I like winks (and usually it doesn't matter who it comes from or how - I always like them) because of my childhood. My earliest encounters with winks were sitting in church with my parents. My mom and dad were not the type to be touchy-feely with us in public. They did not reach over and rub our backs during the sermon or put their arms around us very often. However, they winked. I used to tuck my arm through one of theirs, and - I remember this best from Mom - they would look at me and wink. That non-verbal communication told me it was all right. It was a look of approval, of love, of assurance. When someone winks at me, it makes me think they approve of me, with a "fun" connotation.

Today I was sitting in church again, but not next to my parents this time. We were having communion, and I was thinking about the many ways I have messed up again this week. How many times I've said the wrong thing, ignored or embarrassed people, focused too much on myself and not enough on others... I didn't feel very good about myself today, and I wondered how God felt about me. But then we heard and sang about the forgiveness that Jesus has given us. He covered all my mistakes completely.

The pastor talked about how Jesus showed the disciples his wounds. He was not completely healed after the resurrection, as if nothing had happened. No. He had the scars, and he showed them readily to his followers. I hadn't thought of that before. I think of Isaiah's words: He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquity... And by his wounds, we are healed.

God forgives me. And knowing that, I shared the Lord's Supper with the rest of the broken people there. It was like a wink from God. Yes, we should take Communion seriously, I realize. But it's something tangible that reminds us that God approves of us - through Christ. It's like me coming before him, knowing he might reject me, and receiving the wink, the look that tells me I'm loved and accepted - in a "fun" way.

The peace of the Lord be with you. Amen.