the restaurant.6

Bandera Guest: Excuse me, is this the year of the ox?

Lexie: Excuse me?

Bandera Guest: Is this the year of the ox? You're asian, aren't you?

Lexie: Uh, yes.

Bandera Guest: (astonished) And you don't know if this is the year of the ox?

Lexie: (irritated)...No, but maybe I can find that out for you.

*     *     *     *     *

a few minutes later, at another table...Lexie is addressing a table of 8 people sitting in a booth designed for 6.

Lexie: Usually we split up a party this large between two tables so you will be more comfortable.

Bandera Guest #2: I don't want to hear this. I wouldn't be here if we had to sit at separate tables. 

Lexie: I was just extending the offer.

Bandera Guest #2: You're from the far east. We're from the middle east. We like it like this.

*     *     *     *     *

15 minutes later at the same table...

Bandera Guest #2: What is that small country south of China?

Lexie: (confused) I'm not sure. (Eyes Mark, who travels frequently. to him) Do you know of a small country south of China?

Mark: No.

Bandera Guest #2: No, you should know this, you're Chinese.

living with surprise

Yesterday I grumbled a bit, silently, because an event that I had been long anticipating was postponed and the night was left empty. Something I now realize about myself is that I don't much enjoy being plan-less. Oh, I enjoy spontaneity, but only if I have before hand blocked out a time to be spontaneous.

So what happened? A good, I-only-see-you-every-few-months-or-so-but-time-with-you-is-always-rad-friend came over and the night ended up being exceptionally fun.

Once again, God delivered to the disgruntled kid who didn't get her original plan a most delightful time of fellowship, music (guitar lesson included) and tea!

clumsy imaginings

We are two novice adventurers
Trekking through a fantastic country,
Slashing at brush with yellow,
Fisher-price swords.

As we go, I bid you friend,
Paint me a story with clever words
Make it unreasonable and grand.

Consider me, the disheveled girl in rags,
A princess of grace
Who dances, unharmed
Through millions of arrows
Pouring from a merciless sky.

Consider yourself, the soft-spoken boy
Of mysterious glances,
A bold and forthright guide,
With whom I dare to scale terrific walls and
Survey the land from extravagant heights.

I skip across lop-sided ground.
At me you wink knowingly,
While tossing my way some spontaneous, affable wit.
I catch it effortlessly,
And laugh - all the way to waking.

the line i can't shake

When M. preached this past Sunday, he made a statement that reminded me of the great moments in the theatre when you witness the long-awaited honesty from actors who have given up trying to impress the house- and then those untouchable actors turn into humans and everyone at last exhales.

This was the statement:

I've been a Christian almost my whole life… I just can't get over Jesus.

This was my layman's response:

How beautiful it is to see a man in love. In love, not with an idea, but with a person…
to the abandonment (at least for a series of moments) of all other pursuers vying for his attention; indeed they can wield the cleverest of seductions.

When this man speaks it is simple and profound, for his speech is not a mere declaration of right words hurled into the air, scattering where they may, but rather a testimony lived and breathed, taken in and exhaled from the seat of the soul and like an arrow from Legolas' bow is shot with great precision into resounding center of the listener’s heart.

work harder, rest less, make your dreams come true

The city's holiday is over and it is once again picking up a frantically urgent and quietly desperate pace, although the mouths of the Angeleno proud will scarcely admit to saying it like that. I’m ambitious, I'm driven, I'm striving to be a better me would be the audible vernacular I would expect. It seems that most people in this city (including myself when I forget all that Christ has said and done) are in hot pursuit of some sort of accomplishment that will proclaim to our hearts that we are okay; that we are indeed human beings and not merely pawns of less than favorable circumstances.

To this thought I respond:

Bow before and worship your work and in the end it will roar triumphantly as the years of its silent abuse finally culminate in a noisy and victorious slaughter. You will know then you have always been a slave.

Happy New Year!