Seasons

I would like to give you a picture of my life last year: Desert like. Not much water...enough to live, but not enough to ever feel quenched. Also, I was alone in the desert. If there was a bobcat or rattle snake to attack me in the middle of the night, there would have been no one around to notice or chop off the rattle snakes head. And it was fittingly hot all of the time...Seasons? No siree. There were poeple flying overhead dropping aid (packaged food, bandaids, matches, etc.) in the form of movies, books, and co-workers, but they mostly just flew overhead, rarely stopping to share one of those packaged meals with me.

The funny thing is that now that I am where I am, the idea of seasons has taken on an entirely new meaning. Not only am I experiencing the freaking hottest saoson the great state of Oklahoma has, my life is also singing loudly the cliche that I have always heard that there are seasons of life, and that when you are in the midst of them, good or bad, you tend to think that's how things will be. But then something happens, and a new season is upon you, and you realize the world is not out to get you and things change, and get better. You still remember that the desert was hard to endure, but had a purpose, and you don't feel any animosity for the desert, rather, you're just thankful to have stumbled back into civilization, where there is grass and trees and streams that flow, and fall leaves just around the corner. And you try to remind yourself to be really thankful, because there will probably be another desert-like season somewhere in your future, and you want to have saved up enough water to help get you through it...

So civilization? It's great. I was driving to a friends house last night to watch Last King of Scotland. I have seen it twice already, but the ladies I was watching it with hadn't, and their company was well worth the drive. I was remembering the desert on my way there, and I was feeling thankful, while listening to Interpol, a band turned on to me by Michael, my saxophone playing philosophy majoring friend who just left to go back to school in Chicago. I wish I could explain in words on the screen how great Michael is, but it would be a useless effort, and hopefully that says enough.

On my way home, I stopped by Starbucks to get a hot tea and because I knew Chris was working and I hadn't seen her in too many days. She is not just a friend, but a kindred spirit and we feel like we have known eachother much longer than we have. She had a bad day, to put it mildly. She is getting married in October. They have been planning on having their wedding at a friend's ranch (in approximately a month) and the friends are turning out to be snakes walking around with human bodies. Now the day that's supposed to be her happiest has a dark cloud hovering over, and is engulfed in stress, disappointment, a little more stress, and anger. And so I was glad I stopped by, to listen, and give her a hug. Tomorrow evening I am going to have birthday picnic with Amy...her birthday was on Sunday, and so we are going to have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the park to celebrate.

Speaking of Sunday, that was the evening of my life group. I meet at Matt and Amy's house every other Sunday night with a lovely mix of people. There is Matt, the man of the house (ha) who has some kind of great design job. He facilitates. Amy is his wife, and she is creative, and a great decorator, and a kind, giving soul. Then there is Tonya, the artist, who is dating Ken, the big kid with a great laugh and a great heart. Mary is the one who brought me to the group. We work together at Starbucks, and will hopefully be roommates soon. She is great. Giving. Caring. Thoughtful. Fun. Then there is John, and his roommate Nick. Equally great and equally different. John values critical thought, Nick isn't sure what critical thought amounts to, but knows that whatever it was, it was fun. George is in a category of his own. He owns a kayak and likes to fish and likes beer and The Big Lebowski. And every other Sunday, I get to spend a few hours with these people, discussing Christianity, movies, and life, and laughing until my cheeks hurt.

I am not writing this just to give out my weekly schedule or so that the world knows whether or not my calender is full...but to say that right now, I have definitely stepped out of the desert, and here in the valley, life is rich.