right now (june 2017 edition)

(format stolen from Mighty Girl, who in turn stole it from someone else, I don’t remember who)

Making: In the middle of a scarf and a blanket.

Cooking: Just made a giant thing of rice for community group (used this recipe). I have some pork chops in the fridge for dinners and lunches this week and will probably also work up a batch of these meatballs

Drinking: SO MUCH COFFEE. I’m also curious about the new mango-pineapple frappuccino, but they were out of the syrup at the Starbucks I went to today, so I’ll have to wait. (Have I confessed my frappuccino weakness here? I love them so much even though I know they’re terrible for you.)

Reading: Let’s see–still in the middle of Lectures on Revivals (it’s good, but that nineteenth-century prose is not fast reading). I just picked up The Lotterys Plus One by Emma Donoghue, who wrote a book you may have heard of called Room. I’m also reading An Extraordinary Union, a Civil War-era romance novel, which I wouldn’t have picked up except my Twitter friend @emilyjanehubb read it and recommended it and it’s really good. I’m reading Finding God In My Loneliness for an online book club and Still Life as part of wading my way further into mystery novels. I’m waiting for Lord Peter Views the Body to come in at work, too, and I have The Underground Railroad waiting for me to pick up as soon as I get done with one of these other ones.

Trawling: For a couch. I inherited my old roommate’s sleeper loveseat and it’s doing its job, but I would like something in a grey. Also still looking for a desk.

Wanting: This t-shirt.

Looking: At all the pictures of my friends’ new baby that they keep posting on Instagram. *all the heart-eye emojis*

Deciding: On where to go on a road trip, and whether or not I should go to the Canvas Conference in August.

Listening: Not so much listening as perpetually stuck in my head, but “Waving Through a Window” from Dear Evan Hansen. Also, the new Jason Isbell album, but especially the song “Anxiety”.

Buying: Not so much buying as window shopping, but I’m definitely looking at blouses and shirts for work.

Watching: The Bible Project’s series about how to read the Bible–the latest video is on the different literary genres and it’s just lovely. (Watch here.)

Marveling: Two things: The Tony performance from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. (There are so many people! Oh yeah, and Josh Groban.) Ben Folds writes a song in ten minutes with the National Symphony Orchestra.

Cringing: My nail polish is so chipped, you guys.

Needing: Probably to go to sleep soon so I don’t hate everything in the morning, but here I am writing this blog post anyway.

Questioning: Lots of things, most of them too weird to write about here.

Smelling: I have this basil mint candle that I got from Target that is pretty strong and so I can smell it all the way over here even though it’s not lit. It’s really nice, though–really summery and herbal.

Wearing: Shorts and a plaid shirt. As hot as it is already, and as hot as it’s probably going to get, I’m of a mind to just wear skirts and shorts for the rest of the summer, but then I also work in a building with very strong AC (books don’t like heat or humidity), so I dunno about that. 🙂

Noticing: I’ve been using this app called Headspace to help me fall asleep at night, and y’all, it works.

[i can’t think of a title for this one]

(based on Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and Romans 10:8-9)

Let all God’s people hear
The Lord, He is our God
Let all God’s people hear
The Lord our God is one

And may we love the Lord our God
With all our heart and all our soul
So may we love the Lord our God
With all our mind and all our strength

So bind Your Word upon our hearts
That we might walk in all Your ways
So form Your truth around our lives
That we might love You
That we might love You

Let all God’s people say
The Word is near to us
Let all God’s people say
He made His home with us

So we confess with our mouths
That Jesus Christ is Lord
And we believe in our hearts
That God raised Him from the dead

for you and for your children

I don’t remember the day of my baptism.

I don’t remember much of my childhood–
not in the usual way, that you just forget
as the years and days get scattered behind
you like breadcrumbs leading to the present.
No, I remember my childhood as a form full of blanks
that were never filled in–one day passed over
to lead to another.

So I don’t remember being dipped underneath the
water, white-robed, little girl, nose held,
immersed for half a second in the chaos of death
before being pulled back into light and life.

Somebody once told me that the correct answer
to the question “when did you get saved?”
is “2000 years ago in Jerusalem”
or “before the creation of the world happened.”

I don’t remember.

But I don’t really need to.