The One with Wayfare

“Come ye sinners, poor and needy

Weak and wounded, sick and sore

Jesus ready stands to save you
Full of pity, love, and power"

Eight years and many moons ago, I, along with a handful of other weak and wounded spirits, decided to start a journey together. That journey has come to be known as Wayfare. Warfare is a non-typical community that is intentional about getting back to the basics of "church". That is done through practicing the rhythms of simplicity, authenticity, restoration, sharing, and being organic. Forgive me, Abuelo, as I am sure to have misworded that explanation. 

“Come ye thirsty, come and welcome

God's free bounty glorify

True belief and true repentance
Every grace that brings you nigh"

It is with a thirst and hunger in our hearts that we gather and partake in the Eucharist and welcome others to join us at the table. Yesterday, that gathering was drinking a glass of red wine from a plastic cup while listening to a bluegrass jam session of old hymns in a barn.

“I will arise and go to Jesus

He will embrace me in His arms

In the arms of my dear Savior
Oh, there are then thousand charms"

The nostalgia hits hard when I return to my Wayfare family and I am embraced with open arms. That is the love of God in the flesh.

“Come ye weary, heavy-laden

Lost and ruined by the fall

If you tarry until you're better
You will never come at all"

Take the time to be present and commune with others. Come just as you are. Weary. Heavy-laden. Lost. Ruined. Come just as you are.

“I will arise and go to Jesus

He will embrace me in His arms

In the arms of my dear Savior
Oh, there are ten thousand charms"

"Come Ye Sinners" was the first song that Wayfarers sang together and has become something of an anthem. I sing the words and am reminded of the state my spirit was in eight years ago and rejoice in the freedom that I have now when I commune with those on this journey with me.

Peace be with you. 

The One with Recognizing Happiness

Birthdays are a celebration of life and the celebrations have lately been plentiful. I just finished reading an article about Hospice and life reflections. There was a reminder at the end about what a joy it is when you are able to recognize, in the moment, how much good and happiness is happening in your life. I believe that you become even happier when you recognize happiness. Birthdays are the perfect time to reflect and recognize happiness.

For as long as I can remember I have loved celebrating birthdays and not just my own. Maybe it’s because my parents always did big birthdays or because we extend the celebration to a month versus one day, but I always look forward to birthday celebrations. It is a time to be grateful for being given another year and a time to revel at what is to come. It is time dedicated to feeling special and loved and a time to remember past celebrations. I understand that some people do not like birthdays because it makes them feel old and they do not like to be reminded of just how old they are, however, it should be a joy and accomplishment to say that you’ve reached another year.  

An older gentleman at work is celebrating his birthday today and he is one who treats his birthday like any other day. When prompted to at least have a birthday dinner he says that I will understand when I reach his age. “I hope not,” was my response. I hope that I never get so intimidated by my age that I fail to use my birthday as an extra reason to recognize good and happiness. That said, I do think that my workmate is now entertaining the thought of the All-You-Can-Eat shrimp at Red Lobster for later today.

Cheers to recognizing happiness and celebrating the good!

The One with Fireflies

As a small kid I remember running through the pasture next to my grandparent’s house to catch fireflies, probably in Mason jars. Alone, or with my cousins, this was a preferred activity in the summer. The existence of fireflies, I have recently discovered, is something that I have taken for granted most of my life. 

A few months ago my boyfriend moved from the mountains of Colorado to the hills of Missouri and I have been seeing my home state through his eyes which brings everything I have ever known or thought about life here to a new perspective. 

Seeing the firefly’s light reflect in his excited eyes made me realize for the first time since I was a kid just how magical those bugs are. I realized this even more when friends and family visited from Colorado and they all experienced the magic of the firefly for the first time. There is a certain peace in being able to sit around a fire in my suburban backyard yet feel like I am in the country as the fireflies flit around and glow like embers from the fire. 

I was once invited to a middle school choir concert by a youth I worked with as an Autism Specialist. I remember sitting on the hard bleachers in the tiny school gym and smiling as his group sang the song “Fireflies” by Owl City. In that moment I knew I was experiencing something I would hold on to for a long time to come. The position I held at that time, the people I worked for and with, and the memories I frequently recall were part of the absolute best time in my professional career. That is why when I heard the song “Fireflies” on the radio en route to my first day at a new job recently I felt confident that good things were to come. Although I still have much to learn in my new position, I can feel that my suspicions may be correct; good things are to come. 

It has been the summer of the firefly and that means magic and the confidence of good things to come.

The One with Band of Brothers

Not much could have made for a quicker change in attitude after feeling sad and lonely in my job search than watching a scene in Band of Brothers when a concentration camp is liberated. Not much says desperation and loneliness quite like the sunken in faces and bony bodies that narrate a story of true denial. Denial of basic human rights. Denial of religious heritage and beliefs.  Denial of life.

I may be facing a season of career hardships and job denials, but at least what matters most is not in question. At least I know I am safe and loved. And at this given moment, with thoughts of war and struggle swirling about in my head, I cannot help but be proud to be the granddaughter of such a brave warrior. One who fought so hard during the war to free those who experienced denial of basic human rights, religious heritage and beliefs, and life. And one who fought to keep our country a place where those things are safe. 

My current battlefield may be the job front, but at least I can echo Capt. Lewis Nixon from Band of Brothers and say, "I'm alright! I'm alright... Am I alright?"

The One with the 29th Birthday at The Stanley

People always say it is difficult to make friends as an adult. Well, I think I've found the secret- participate in ghost hauntings together.

The night before my twenty-ninth birthday was spent on a ghost tour of The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado. The Stanley Hotel is the most (positively) haunted hotel in the United States and the Music Hall that sits on the property is the fourth most haunted place in the country. The hotel is famously known for its association with the the film The Shining, which is played on repeat in the guest rooms. 

Having previously been on haunted hotel tours and experiencing some paranormal activity, I was very hesitant in my excitement to get to know The Stanley. The level to which I experienced any paranormal activity, whether intelligent or residual, was certainly less than others on the tour. I did, however, still witness the door in Lucy's room independently close itself and felt resistance on the same door when I tried to later open it. The sucker I held out in the palm of my hand also twirled around when the lights were off in Lucy's room. Others I was with had their shoes untied, felt resistance while playing a hymn on the piano in the Music Hall (the same piano also played by Bob Dylan by the way), saw apperitions in windows, and caught varying facial expressions in the same one photo during a photoburst capture. 

The stories continued at the bar after the tour. Guests and staff alike shared their experiences at the hotel while I ate a plate of Brie cheese that was served with a birthday candle in one of the slices. Birthday Brie is now a thing. The stories did not end at the bar. Once on the fourth floor, where I wondered if I would actually get any shuteye throughout the night, there was a gathering of guests. We got out our suckers and held them in our hands while others got out their phones to turn on their ghost hunting apps. 

This gathering of people sat and shared and experienced together in the hallway for so long that it started to feel like my freshman year of college, which was an easy and eager time to make friends. Having similar shared experiences on the tours and around the hotel made for obvious conversation starters and made for a memorable stay at The Stanley. 

As unbelievable as it is to me, I excitedly await another chance to stay at The Stanley. 

Happy birthday to me. 

The One where Shit Happens

Sometimes friends call just to say hi and sometimes friends call because shit has happened. Shit comes in many forms and sometimes it is the literal kind. A poopy pants emergency provided me a great escape from grading papers for an afternoon last weekend.

As I listened through the phone to a defeated sounding friend regale me the poopy pants tale from an echoing bathroom stall, I starting making a mental note of what items I needed to prepare for a cleanup intervention. I gathered towels of various sizes and an array of scented soaps and waited for the arrival of poopy pants. 

My friend stripped her son and gingerly placed him in the bathtub. I will never be more thankful for a recent bathroom remodel that included a handheld nozzle in the shower. Finally clean, fresh underpants were donned and clothes were rinsed and thrown into the washing machine. As we waited for the clothes to dry the company in the living room grew. 

Although an actual shitty situation, I was glad to be of help to friends in need. Community is such a necessity in this life and I hope that all involved that day found as much joy in the conversations and laughs as I did while working through a shitty situation. After poopy pants comes fresh new Star Wars underwears. 

May your hearts be full and not your drawers. 

The One with the Full Belly and Soul

Whether it is indulging in a boat of sushi after stacking cell phones in the middle of the table so as to avoid tecnological temptations or laughing and sharing beers with new work mates as a welcome to their world, there is definite power in sharing table with others. 

There is a certain vulnerability when face to face with another human being. Stranger or not, it is a special thing to know that those sharing table with you have given of their precious time to engage in the experience. When sharing table, food is usually involved and that means a shared experience, at minimum, the length of a meal. As the food fills the belly so the company fills the soul. 

I was recently out dining with a good friend and her tiny miracle of a newborn babe. We felt very welcomed by the service our waiter provided. Through ongoing, although interrupted, conversation with him about the newborn babe and his recently born babe we felt a small connection to him. The positivity expressed about how surprisingly nice people can still be in our world and how quickly life changes made for a very unique and memorable experience of sharing table. The experience became even more special when we leaned our bill had been taken care of. Thanks Red Robin for the kind service. 

Over tables connections are linked and bonds are formed. The amount of time those bonds last matters not, because there is always a table waiting somewhere.