In this time of introspection, on the eve of my election...

I haven't exactly been quiet and dignified throughout this process. HEY GUYS, HEY GUYS LOOK AT ME, MY MISSIONARY IS COMING HOME TOMORROW exclamation point

And you better like it. I know I do.

It's windy outside. Somebody left beach balls of varying sizes floating in the pool, and they're spinning on the surface of the water in a precise model of the solar system. Also, the window is whistling huskily, like a Native American flute. It's a refreshing combo.

Speaking of spinning, Matthew 6:28 has been stuck in my head for a week. I am a spinner and a toiler. And a combination of all things - observing my four oldest siblings raise their twelve cumulative children for the past eight years, observing my mother age with grace, slowly learning what love is, and general growing up - has led me to the conclusion that so much junk that I fret and pace about just doesn't matter. I bought a book from the bargain shelves this week that I might be ashamed of were it not for this newfound realization - it's called Baby Love: A Tradition of Calm Parenting. That title had me sold. And the back cover reports that the contents are the consolidated wisdom of three generations of Dutch midwives - the author's mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. The mental image I got from that description - something like a black-and-white Vermeer painting with a baby and a sink - just made me breath easier. Calm parenting! What a concept. What an obvious concept. I expect life to be a movie sometimes. Sometimes I need to realize the less glamorous, the less edited, the un-sound-effected, the unromantic is still valid.

There are a few engaged couples in my life, and if they got in a fight, it's clear who would come out on top. I have examples of toiling and spinning - of constant tension and excuse-making. And then I have an example of two kids in love just having a wonderful time. I like their way.

Perhaps this is too personally relevant to make any sense to the reader. I've got some self issues I've got to clear up, and a great deal of that involves just letting go. Letting go of both the catalyst and the vice in myself, clearing the space so the Lord has room to build good things inside of me. I'm a pack-rat through and through - I don't let go of anything, be that a stuffed lion I found in a road cone or a personality flaw.

Yes, consider those lilies. I keep learning over and over that I can't rely on the arm of flesh (and my own arm is pretty fleshy) - I've got to rely on the Lord.

Chillness is the overlooked virtue, is it not?

So back to the matter at hand - there's a tall, bespectacled boy with messy hair and a perfect nose who's going to phone me tomorrow. As I told a friend this evening - it's going to be awkward, it's going to be uncomfortable, we're going to have nothing to say ...

and it's going to be wonderful.