I recently came across my first “boyfriend” on Facebook. I won’t add him as a friend. Not because I’m bitter or anything, but because we haven’t seen each other since we were 11 and the only thing I can think of saying to him is, “So, remember that Duck Tales movie? Neither do I.” I’m also scared that he’s still 4′9″.
Facebook stalking can be hard on the brain. But it can also be a source of endless entertainment. I’d rather read about your drama than endure my own. No offense.
I’d add Romeo and friends. Just to be privy to this sort of news feed:
Sometimes I confuse weariness with tiredness and vice versa. This weekend was one of weariness. Even as I type, I feel far too old for my age.
I missed the Super Bowl, exchanging it for a lengthy heart-to-heart instead. It was so painful. So honest. So beautiful. Apparently Skype makes me cry.
Thrice’s “Come All You Weary” speaks to my heart tonight. I’m so thankful for grace and respite. This is the sort of lullaby I’m choosing to cling to as I learn to navigate this thing called life.
Whenever I go to a Super Bowl party (not this year), it’s mostly for the halftime show and the endless supply of chips and dip. And to cheer for the least-loved team. I like being unpopular.
I would enjoy an afternoon of football more if it felt like a movie. With an epic soundtrack and heartbreaking characters. You know, like Rudy. Or Remember the Titans. Or….
The Super Bowl. As directed by Quentin Tarantino, David Lynch, Wes Anderson, Jean-Luc Godard and Werner Herzog.
C.S. Lewis is going to blog on my behalf today. This is just too beautiful and honest to not share.
In speaking of this desire for our own far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence; the secret also which pierces with such sweetness that when, in very intimate conversation, the mention of it becomes imminent, we grow awkward and affect to laugh at ourselves; the secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of a name. Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter.
….
The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.
I’ve decided that today is the worst day of the year. This dictates, by definition, that all subsequent days must be better.
Now excuse me while I figure out how to get water out of a chandelier….
I DID get a hug in the mail today. And another hug over the phone. And a few beautifully generous offers to help out.
THANK YOU.
P.S. There is a Joshua Radin song title for every life situation: I’d Rather Be With You, No Envy No Fear, Friend Like You, We Are Okay, Brand New Day…. When in doubt, hang out (or mop your floor) with Joshua.
If I’ve learned anything from Groundhog Day, it’s that I shouldn’t drive angry. And because I’m not sure if I can apply such wisdom, I don’t drive at all.
Groundhog Day also convinced me that Bill Murray is brilliant. Even his cameo in The Darjeeling Limited is gold.
(Please tell me you’ve seen Zombieland. Why wasn’t it nominated for Best Original Screenplay today? So fresh and fun.)
I know it’s not Tuesday, but I can make and break my own YouTube rules….
Of my many musical discoveries in the past year, one stands out as the most significant. And yet, until now, I’ve neglected to spotlight it here. I think it’s because I’m hesitant to type praise when there’s actual weight behind the words. I can say I love Rob Thomas or Bono without a second thought. But extend that to musicians I actually know and I’m suddenly extra careful with my phraseology. I don’t want to sound trite or gush in a way that reads as insincere.
In late 2008, my friend Jon sent me an email. He told me he had just finished directing a music video. I wasn’t familiar with Hello Kelly, but I was excited for his project. A few months later, my first introduction to the band looked like this:
Simple Love Song
Fastforward to summer 2009. Suddenly Francy (Hello Kelly’s front man) and I were good friends. And “Simple Love Song” remained one of the most played songs on my iPod. Sometimes first music-impressions loop in my head. Over and over.
I discovered “Paper Bag Princess (Hey Elizabeth)” when I first saw Hello Kelly play live. Total crowd favorite. Even non-Robert Munsch fans can get behind this insanely catchy pop-rock tune that blends awesomeness with optimism.
And the long-awaited video came out today! (Hence my not waiting for YouTube Tuesday. I like being timely.)
Hey Elizabeth
And it’s true, folks: As the song says, Francy can play a mean guitar and you can talk to him about almost anything.
Read his blog for a peek into his pretty cool brain. The man is a WRITER. For real.
And now he’s going for broke. It’s do-or-die time. He’s setting up shop in Nashville at this very moment, chasing a huge dream with his God-given talents. And I’m on board. ‘Cause, like Zac Efron tends to remind us, we’re all in this together. (Plus, it’s a very Donald Miller-approved thing to do, pursuing a story worth telling.)
Help the guy out. Give. Pray. Listen. Let’s band together (pun very much intended) and encourage and participate in one another’s adventures. The new album is going to be good. Trust me.
Sometimes I post videos here that have changed my little world. Well, here’s a video that challenges you to change someone else’s:
Help Hello Kelly
Stay tuned. The best is yet to come. As is a Christmas movie. And a sitcom. And The Supersonics. And….
Now get thee to iTunes and download the self-titled Hello Kelly album while you await the upcoming excellence. Do it. Even if I had zero personal connection to the band, I’d still love every single song. That’s my endorsement. All thumbs up.
Recently I’ve come to recognize the awesome privilege I have to pray for my friends. To extend my trust in God to include trusting Him with their lives.
Only last week I encountered a uncomfortable loneliness; a friend essentially told me she didn’t care about my life. That moment was important. It shocked me into a more concerted effort to listen to those around me. To intentionally love. To take the time to make sure that the details of your lives really matter to me. And they do.
Friends, I love you. And as many of you are at exciting crossroads and beginning new chapters of great adventures, know that I’m praying for you.
I will pray for you now, for you have been my faithful friends
While the road we walk is difficult indeed
I couldn’t not ask for more than what you’ve already been
Only that you would say these prayers for me
May your heart break enough that compassion enters in
May your strength all be spent upon the weak
All the castles and crowns you build and place upon your head
May they all fall, come crashing down around your feet
May you find every step to be harder than the last
So your character grows greater every stride
May your company be of human insignificance
May your weakness be your only source of pride
What you do unto others may it all be done to you
May you meet the One who made us
And see Him smile when life is through
May your blessings be many but not what you hoped they’d be
And when you look upon the broken
May mercy show you what you could not see
May you never be sure of any plans you desire
But you’d learn to trust the plan He has for you
May your passions be tried and tested in the holy fire
May you fight with all your life for what is true
I have prayed for you now all my dear and faithful friends
But what I wish is more than I could ever speak
As the way wanders on I’ll long to see you once again
Until then, would you pray these prayers for me?
Oh, that you would pray for me
What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.
Thanks for getting it, sir. And for inspiring words. Holden Caulfield will live forever.
Beginner’s Bible Coloring Book
