eclectic by association

I am sorry to be so infrequent with you.

I spent time with faithful bloggers tonight and I want to join their world. I know much of what is awake in them is still sleeping in me. But being with them tonight made parts of me toss and turn. I felt eclectic by proximity, creative by association. Just listening to the languid, easy conversation, I want to write and write and write. Muse on interesting observations. I want to paint my thoughts. "It feels good having you here" was in my head all night.

What's been going on? I don't have all the energy I need to make it happen for you.

But tonight, oh, tonight, I felt less sleepy, more awake then ever. Just from start to finish, the moment I got to the office till I pulled away from it, was perfect in all its neat imperfection. I love our little community, with all its quirks, every bit of beauty and pain, always ever ongoing. Just how we all fit together, every faithful hand and face in all the right places. People so committed, so easily part of things. So much was right tonight in our big expansive room, recrafted and rebuilt week after week, people pouring out so much just to make it just right.

Watching the big M, tears welled up on my eyes, every one of her perfectly, messily placed words. Like watching someone paint a masterpiece without even blinking, every word was just right. I long to be so easy and rich in my words as she is. She is so much of how I am eclectic by association. Could I ever be part of that world?

I had spent much of last week in the hot/frozen midwest. My family, broken, in pain, removed, emptied from all of the harshness of life, ate up my insides. I wanted so much to just fix every problem, soothe every fear, make every pain easier with my wisdom and advice. But I was in stunned silence. Even full of contempt at times. I so easily judge them, but I neglect my own big issues.

The drama climaxed Friday morning, when I innocently asked why there was infant baptism. I should have sensed that my question would scratch the surface of a giant, boiling cauldron of hot magma waiting to explode at first touch (i hate my metaphors, where is justin when I need him? :) ). The room instantly turned into a giant theological debate about salvation, hell, mortal sin, and more and raged for a solid hour. Every one of my aunts took turns making points against me and my mothers "saved by grace" stand point and it all ended without resolution. The worst part was that about 8 of my young cousins, all attending religious schools, were listening to the argument, which offered little hope of an answer or of hope or much of anything at all. I tried to raise the point that over everything we should all try to be more like Jesus, but it was met with more argument and point proving. I still feel in a cloud about it all.

I know that heated debates are inevitable and that I may leave them with more questions than answers, but I guess somehow with family, its harder.

All I know is that I am hopeful and greatful for another year in Santa Cruz.