Story from the Sidewalks

Walks to work prove to teach me the most about my neighbors and my own heart. More then ever, I see the detail that went into building our historical neighborhood. I see the people with fancy things living next to those who hope for basic things.  I see the smiles from passing buses, kids taking selfies in back seats, and Moms singing loud. Then I see the fast and careless cars, rushed spirits, and tired hearts.

Denver has been given ~13 inches of snow this week, paired with sub-15 degree mornings.

A mother with three mobile kiddos and one in a stroller, pushed through drifts of un-shoveled snow in wet sneakers, capris, and white cotton socks. She kept ushering her kiddos, reminding them that breakfast awaited at school.

Genuine Jerry also walks to work daily. Brown paper bag and coffee mug in hand. He nods, I wave. Both of us processing what awaits or what we just left behind at our careers. He too is also saving for a vehicle, and prefers the walk because "driving is for wimps."

Three teens stand at the bus stop in light weight jackets. I pray they were just being teenagers with opinions about their sense of style, but my heavy heart fears jackets might not be in the budget.

A gentleman who just had serious neck surgery was shuffling from the health clinic to the corner 7-11 to use the restroom. He started riding the bus at 4 AM only to arrive at the clinic to find that it didn't open until later. With his walker, on these icy sidewalks and serious lack of mobility - he slowly made his way to 7-11. He kept stopping In pain. Asking how I could help, and he said - "keep smiling."

Sweet Sandy, who has to be in her 80's, has greeted me each morning this week.  She's shovels the bottom of her drive because she prefers "to skate on a lake" and not on her driveway.

Part of me cannot wait to get a car; the heated bubble of plastic and medal that lets me be the bigger thing on the road, the faster one to work, and the muscle behind my grocery shopping.

A bigger part of me hopes that I never lose sight of what exists on the sidewalks. The detail, the stories, the eye contact, the emotions. These past two months have given me eyes that see - and I don't want my tinted windows to tint my heart.

It is my walking hope that whenever I can - I hope I GIVE freely, joyfully, and with intent. In this world that tells me to spend more, do more, be more - there is one who knows all, is all, and serves all.  Thank you sweet Jesus for this season to remember that you are the ultimate gift. That you loved so we may love, serve, grow, go, live, lead, forgive, encourage, share, and give.

Love,
Lauren

Birthday Side Effects

I've been alive for 29 years and almost 8 days and I'm suffering from "new age syndrome." Is that a real thing?

With New Belgium's Snow-Day winter beer in hand, Annie F. Downs book opened, and the tub running - I prepared to soak up and rest in the start to this new age of life.

A mini - what I think might be a sliver of a panic attack - later, the water was too hot, the book was annoying me me, and a beer that was downed before it was enjoyed. Nothing was right, everything was wrong, and here I am about to be another day into year 29 and I can't find peace with it. 

It's not that I feel old.

It's not that I regret what has already been.

It's that I have too many stinkin' things I want to do, and too many ideas of where I should start.
It's that my passion is so wide, so tall, so deep - that I get lost in the love, joy, and gratitude I have for all things.

You have to wrestle before you can win.

And that's where I stand, in the arena, time to fight some rounds and get some answers.

Luckily, Denver had 13 inches of snow and I was given the gift of time to listen to James Granger's "God With Us In Rest" sermon.

Take away: "Stopping long enough and consistently enough - to remember who God is, who we are, and who we are not." [James Granger]

I'll pray for that.
I'll cheers to that.
I'll rest in that.