This and that

A few things have crossed my mind lately, so cheers to another muddled writing…

-This Michigan turnaround business is not the state’s forte. The effectiveness of this concept needs to be in writing fairly soon because with gas at $3.45, people speculating about global warming, and the time factor, driving past your destination and coming back around to make the right turn into the business district has me speculating. It really does not bother me all that much, but on several occasions my roommate and I discuss the irony of the Michigan turnaround and have a hard time appreciating it.

Also, the flashing red light in the left turn lane finds us asking natives, “Do we have to stop before turning or yield while turning?” No one has given us a sensible answer because they don’t know either. Maybe I’ll google it tomorrow.

-We had, hands down, the greatest neighborhood growing up. There were 11 of us in the cul-de-sac. 4-square became 6-square and then ultimate 4-square when we used the entire circle in the road. There were more amazing snow forts on our street piles than the Arctic would know what to do with.

Our games of hide ‘n seek were incredible. Of course I would run home crying complaining about how slow I was and then run back out for round two. There was always the anticipation of finding a frog or two in the Moffatt’s underground windows and then we’d move on to the Moffatt’s or Hardee’s back yard for an incredible water system beginning with the slide and forming rivers, dams, and creeks in the sand. We built cities and became frustrated when they would make us shut off the water because apparently it isn’t “free.”

How do you leave something like that? Well, as we grew older our lives became more hectic and then we had to do the college thing. However, I know we did not “grow up” because I guarantee any one of the 11 would do all the activities listed above in a heartbeat. Heck, when I would come home there were times I forced my nephews into their snowsuits and said, “We’re playing in the snow and you’re going to like it.”

Anyone reading this needs to experience our cul-de-sac if you have not done so. I fear the day one of the families moves away because I have this image in my mind that all our parents will be there so the 11 of us can bring our children to the neighborhood and they can play together and we can show them this incredible place.

-Finally, why my mother allowed me to paint my bedroom wall the way it is painted is unbeknownst to me. It is a bit…over the top, but I pray I am famous someday so whoever inhabits the room next does not paint over it because it is my room and many of the people who have been a part of my life (at least in high school). Actually, as long as someone on my wall becomes famous that would be fine because you just cannot paint over a celebrity.

Hmmmm...

This past Sunday I showed up (45 minutes) early to church. A man was warming up on the drums and as I sat there the room went dark. All the lights went out except those highlighting the center stage, giving the drummer a remarkable glow. I secretly came early hoping to have some silence before others congregated. Instead, I was in a very large and dark room with the drums beating and an image of Caren MacMurchy. She, ladies and gents, is the one woman I may ever witness (and you may ever hear about) to play the drums during her own husband’s funeral.

The room filled with intensity, this thundering anticipation of all the excitement and pain and joy and anger to come. Moving on, I then began thinking how one of the best services to date would be if Rob Bell gave the sermon and the David Crowder Band performed the music. Please note the ultimate of this dream would be if Rob Bell performed a Catholic service with Father Holtzman at the cathedral in Toledo, Spain and David Crowder was the cantor, but that's neither here nor there...

Soon the “56” band joined their drummer on stage and practiced their first song. Their leader strapped on his accordion and began playing none other than “Here is Our King,” a song which is safe to say was made well-known by the David Crowder Band. At that moment I then realized the instrumental intro to this song is very much reminiscent of that played during The Office opening credits. I couldn’t help but smile. Then, my mind jumped back to the first night I attended the church and the first woman I see is wearing a sweater my mother owns. Not just any sweater, but the sweater I chose to borrow from my mother for an ugly Christmas sweater party.

You know those nights when you lay in bed exhausted because of the countless ideas running through your mind ALL day? Tiring? Yes. Inspiring? You bet.

Next, a woman sitting behind me with her two children asked if I went to this church often and she then asked the question of the day: How did you end up at Mars Hill?

Instantly I pinpointed it to a conversation I had with a friend who introduced me to Rob Bell and his writings. I then took this conversation and wondered how we reached that topic and realized it lead to my sister and Grand Rapids, MI where I recently applied for an internship (the one I am currently at). This became a trail of the internship to my interest in baseball to a guy I dated who showed me baseball to Sonshine music festival to a few girlfriends convincing me to go to Sonshine…you get the idea.

Life becomes this intricate design. Some things we may believe coincidental, but this can definitely be outweighed by the “path” of tracing life back.

Right now take something that has happened in your life recently, big or small, and make a path. If you don’t find your path(s) fascinating then call me and we can work something out…