A Royal Day!

This morning, I got up before the sun at 4:30 to watch Kate Middleton marry Prince William. I drank coffee and ate toast and settled in with some friends to witness what they say I'll remember my whole life.

Um, WORTH IT. From the moment I saw Kate emerge with her delicate lace sleeves, shiny cascading chestnut hair, full pleats, and warm smile, I kept saying over and over, "Perfect, she just looks perfect." She really did. William was coy and charming as ever, with his bashful, kind expression and sweet joking throughout. I hope they're really as in love as they seem. Best friends, really.

In case you missed it, the music was transcendent, there were TREES in Westminster Abbey, Kate's sister Pippa was gorgeous, and the sermon was sober, sound and encouraging. The British did what they do, and they did it well--solemnity, tradition, ceremony--and they did it with freshness. I was proud of them, even if I sang "My Country Tis of Thee" instead of "God Save the Queen." (God, save her awful yellow hat, really.)

Another highlight was when the Bishop of London, after claiming today a day of joy and hope, declared, "Every wedding is a royal wedding because we are all children of the King of Creation." What a beautiful and touching sentiment.

Overall, it was a glorious event, though of course, the pageantry and pomp can only dimly anticipate the glory and celebration of the Wedding That is to Come. And, we dear people, will be the bride, truly perfect.

Cheerio!

I cannot stop listening...

To this song.

A beautiful cover of a beautiful song. Would be a great 'First Dance' song, if you ask me.

The Dangling Conversation

It has been persistently and soothingly raining for hours now and my house has that still, calm, slightly dark ambience that makes writing seem more leisurely and more profound than it usually is.

So write I will.

Sometimes when friends get together, the conversation settles on easy trivialities: schedules, updates, bills, restaurants, plans. The sweet comfort of lives intertwined on a daily basis allows for a steady quotidian commentary and permits the sharing in a common life, shallow as the topics may be. But on other occasions, something not necessarily more important, but exceedingly more rare, occurs. Instead of mere talking, the conversation becomes a sacred space in which to contemplate higher ideals and questions, to ponder and wonder about the profundities of our station in the world and the eternal questions of the human condition. Last night, Baja Burrito, with its pretty white Christmas lights lending a transcendent glow to the porch, (which pretty white Christmas lights almost always do) was transformed into such a sacred space.

A conversation that began with the relative merit of fish tacos miraculously meandered into the role of the government, the nature of education, the place of the university, the inequalities birth affords, the diversity in Christian denominations, the peace found in the phrase 'It is finished,' and the heartbreaking love found in families.

It is a sincere and humbling privilege to contemplate such weighty themes with the same people with whom I sweat in the garden, practice music, clean dishes, throw wedding showers, and interpretive dance. Life is full of both small details and great matters, and there is a subtle depth to the whole of it all. While there is intrinsic value in the shared commonalities of everyday experience, there is also an assuring and awesome communalism expressed in the hours where we can join together with the voices of the ages to opine about things we don't know. Those plastic chairs yesterday evening hosted not only friends from Atlanta and East Nashville, but from Ancient Greece, Washington D.C., Nazareth, the burned over distrinct, Cambridge, and the very unapproachable light of heaven.

And as all of us sat, lulled by the surprisingly warm breeze that would bring today's rains and the musical hum of familiar voices, we participated in something ageless--something utterly human and mysteriously divine.

Meghan Anderson

Some months ago, I prayed that the Lord would bring me some new friends.

Well, in His goodness and sweetness and perfect timing, he brought Megs.

I've known Meghan since the first weekend I moved to Nashville when we attempted to canoe in river that was almost completely waterless. I was quiet and nervous, still petrified at the thought of living in a new city as a grown up.

Since that first canoe extravaganza, Meghan and I would run into each other around town at various concerts, birthday parties, and gatherings. I thought she was adorable and so kind, but was honestly afraid to talk to someone so beautiful. To this day, I can hardly look her full in the face. But one magical day, Meghan, in her vulnerable generosity asked me, "can we be friends? like real friends? like, want to have lunch, say, tomorrow?" So we met up at Bread and Co. and that was that.

Every time I have the privilege of hanging out with Meghan, I leave encouraged and energized, sillier and more sanctified. She reminds me of God's truth, she asks hard questions, she reveals her heart for others, she listens to my ramblings, she grabs my hand for emphasis, she lets me sit on the curb when I get a little weak at the knees. Meghan has taught me about freedom and grace and what it means to wait on the Lord and treasure His word. She is a delight and her life is joy. Megs, I am so happy you were born and hope to know you for many, many birthdays to come!

So, Happy Birthday, Megs 'Face like an angel' Anderson! (She likes to be called that. Actually she has requested an official birth certificate change, I believe:)

Sometimes two weeks goes by fast...

...and sometimes it drags slowly on.

Not sure which one it's been yet, but I do know that it's been two weeks since I posted anything on here. April has come, with its rains and tornado warnings, gardens and chacos, blossoming of love and abundance of pollen. Life has been both busy and boring, that incredible mixture that seems to make productiveness impossible.

I hope to write something more substantial soon, since there are some errant thoughts that I'm trying to pluck from the winds of my mind. Forthcoming: Thoughts on Jimi Hendrix, on college friends, on Martin Luther King's Christology, on the centrality of Resurrection, on Owen McFadden's love for Elton John and the beauty of repetition, on loved ones in faraway lands, on eternal and temporal time. Hold me to it.

For now, hear these life-giving words: "In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth." (Ephesians 1: 7-10)