Grass.

Grass is compelling. It springs up in cities and countrysides. It clutters the space between sidewalk slats. It's a bit like wild, sustainable, outdoor carpet.

I have this body spray from the GAP called "Grass." I wanted it because of its calm green color and also because anything grass-related lifts my spirits. But before today, I didn't realize that grass really does have a remarkable fragrance. GAP did a good job imitating its scent. It is tart and fresh and sweet and joyful. Beneath our trudging feet, it grows in understated complexity. It is beautiful. A forest that shelters tiny insect cities.

Two Thursdays ago, yoga and discussion time made me painfully aware that for a long, stressful period I had chosen to remain unaware of small blessings. That day I finally smelled the pink flowering trees in the Rogers parking lot I had before then only glanced at in passing. Since then, I wonder at the moon, revel in the first blue sky we've seen in weeks, and today I smelled grass.

It's been worth it.

Time for a Joke.

A man is walking in a graveyard when he hears the Third Symphony played backward. When it's over, the Second Symphony starts playing, also backward, and then the First. "What's going on?" he asks the cemetery worker. "It's Beethoven," says the worker. "He's decomposing."

“The work of Jesus was not a new set of ideals or principles for reforming or even revolutionizing society, but the establishment of a new community, a people that embodied forgiveness, sharing and self-sacrificing love in its rituals and discipline. In that sense, the visible church is not to be the bearer of Christ’s message, but to be the message.” - Stanley Hauerwas

Change is active.

I'm not exactly sure what this post will turn into because there are a lot of thoughts in my head that may or may not form coherent phrases.

It seems to me that there are two types of people: those who experience joy because they open themselves up to it and those who catch only glimpses of happiness because they have already concluded that there life doesn't measure up, that nothing is good enough. But really, even those people who see reasons for joy must have times where they'd rather sit life out for awhile. So really, there is one type of person on this earth. We're all discontented with what we have and disenchanted with experiences, people, and even our dreams. For me, this year has been a rude awakening. I was happy and care free so long as I managed to ignore the depth of physical and emotional suffering people experience daily. People are literally trudging along. I feel like so many people are on the edge of suicidal desperation. The thing that keeps them alive is a healthy fear of death.

So what we end up with is lots of people afraid to live and afraid to die. The fear becomes so debilitating that they choose apathy over any other feeling. Easier to dull the pain than learn how to feel more effectively.

We're all psychotic. How did we get this way? Why have we determined that if we're not happy with ourselves, with our lives, we must sit in self pity, shaking our fists at the world's cruelty, instead of doing something?

I am tired of feeling sorry for myself. I am tired of everyone else feeling sorry for themselves. It's hard to grow up, but who convinced us that growing up means sacrificing ourselves to the gods of apathy, bitterness, monotonous living, giving up? I want to travel, but my parents won't help fund the trip. I want to help people. I want to give to charity. I want to have a strong, Christian community again. I want to be happy with my skin, and in my skin. These things aren't inevitable failures. They fuel the goals that make my life purposeful.

I found FSU exchange programs that cost much less than study abroad. If I work hard, I can pay for it myself. I'm becoming friends with lonely elders at Westminster Oaks; so what if I feel ineffective. If I can get over myself I will realize that what I do is enriching to young and old alike whether or not my generation cherishes the elderly. I'm working this summer. I can put money aside for charitable giving. I can focus myself and get involved in a church and determine to work at building relationships. I can take care of myself as well as I know how and, in the meantime, see the joys in my life that matter far more than my appearance.

I do the things I do not wish to do. I do not do the things I wish to do. But God (please restore me to you God), has provided a purpose, a hope, a message of selfless love. Its hard, but maybe I'll start to live this life with joy again. We can't hope for change to come. Change is active, which means we actually have to DO something.

I want so badly for people to get up off their couches, to rise out of whatever self-induced funk they're in at the moment, and determine to change their lives by being changed by God and in turn, changing others.