confessions, part 7- the final one

I love to iron; accent on love.


If you've ever provided room and board for me, chances are I've asked you for an iron and ironing board for the next day's clothes. If you'll provide a room in the future, chances are I'll give the same request. I've had a fascination for ironing since middle school, where I would iron my T-shirts on the weekends. I am confident this had nothing to do with the fact that I had few friends during this time. I think.

I have ironed shirts for friends while rooming with them (a la Mike Holmes). I have ironed for Lindsay. I've tried to teach her the secrets of a wrinkle-free lifestyle. I iron denim jeans, on a regular basis. I have ironed shorts, also on a regular basis. T-shirts, dress shirts, and even some tablecloths for one of Lindsay's fab parties, it doesn't matter, I love it. It may just be my hatred for wrinkles, I've considered that as the source of all this. I have a problem, I know.

Who doesn't like to put their arms into a fresh pair of warm sleeves though? Ironing is like mowing the lawn for clothes. There's instant results. Wrinkle there on the collar, oh wait, a few quick iron swipes and its nothing more than a garment memory. Truly, a wrinkle is no match for the searing heat and steam. When you wield a hot iron, you wield unstoppable power over the effects of the hang-dry. Consider it.

It's all quite ridiculous though. There are countless people in the world with 1 or 2 articles of clothes to their name at most. I've reflected on this lately and it's left me with the question "Why do you value the things you value?" Hmmm. More to come on this.

Confession #7, the final one, for now- I love to iron; accent on love

from wilmore, with Love.

what's your guess?

Thanks to our dear friends Dave and Amanda for telling us this epic tale a few weeks ago.

Some friends of ours, the Kearns, set an old 14 inch television, rabbit ears included, out in front of their home in the notorious Nicholasville, KY. Nicholasville is just outside of our lil' village, Wilmore, about 6 miles. Alongside this commonwealth treasure sat a piece of cardboard with the letters F-R-E-E written on it. Before they were both set outside on the curb, bets were taken on how long the TV would be out there before someone drove or walked by and picked it up. The Kearns live in a busy area near downtown. Cars pass regularly. Dogs and dogwalkers frequent their area. No bad weather in sight. The "finders keepers" maxim was in good and full company there.
5 bucks.
Closest without going over.
Winner takes the pile of cash.
Four votes were cast: eight minutes, ten minutes, twelve minutes, and sixteen minutes. Brad, father and husband of the Kearns clan, walked out to place the near twenty year old television and sign on the grass near the curb. Katie, wife and mother Kearns, hit START on the stopwatch in her hand.

How long do you think it took for the TV to find a new owner?

...





Forty seconds. FOUR-DEE.
*Commence shock laughter now*

"Haaay maaan, does that TV weerrk?"
Brad, still on his way back to the front door, turns around in shock, "Yep, sure does."
By 1:03 it was loaded in the car. One minute and three seconds. Well under ninety seconds and all that remained was a lonely cardboard sign, only four letters and weeds to keep it company.
Wow.

from wilmore, with Love.

confessions, part 6

I've had the same alarm clock IN USE since 1990. And there she is. She's a byoot aint she?



This came to me on Christmas of 1990. Still rockin it, no lie. I was ten years old (do the math, go ahead) and when I opened this, I was officially a "big kid." I had hit the double digits and now could wake up to an alarm like old people do. There was cool neon pink and green designs on the face and I could even wake up to the sound of music on the FM, or AM radio. This clock has been in over a dozen of night stands since the Christmas arrival. Every time we moved when I was a kid and when I move now, I worry it wont make it. But after unpacking boxes, I plug in the aged powercord, and BOOM- the trusty Soundesign revives again. (On a very interesting note, this company is now extinct.)

As you might guess, Lindsay could part with it pretty easily. For me, notta chance. How can you let go of greatness, greatness with electronic longevity I might add? We have lived in three places since our blissful wedding day seven years ago, and every time she pleads for me to throw it out, donate it, or keep it in another room besides our bedroom. Her attempts are futile in the presence of greatness, in the presence of THAT alarm clock. Sad will the day be when it can no longer be placed on a night stand near my sleeping head. Very sad.

Confession #6- I've had the same alarm clock IN USE since 1990, unashamedly.

from wilmore, with Love.

sean is right

Take a peek at the comment on the previous post and you'll see why. Sean- I was thinking the same thing this week, but haven't acted on it.

HE IS *NOT WAS* ALIVE. JESUS IS HERE, SALVATION IS HERE, HEALING IS HERE, HOPE IS HERE. No need to search for the living among the dead!

What better way to reveal the other side of the story than by showing you one of my favorite images of a loving God and broken humanity? I originally saw this on the wall in the home of a dear friend- Josh. It has captured me ever since. I hope to own it someday- a copy, not the original. Unless...you feel compelled. It is a sketch by an amazing artist named Charlie Mackesy. I believe it depicts the anthem of heaven. This, friends, is the rest of the story- one where the once occupied tomb is vacant and the God of the universe makes a way for His beloved sons and daughters to be with Him again. A story where the King dies for his servants, one where the Righteous pursues the rebellious, one where the Champion falls into the grave so that we might rise from it. It's a good one. Have someone tell it to you soon, again. Here it is through the eyes of Charlie. The snapshot comes to us from a story I prefer to call "The Parable of the Unbelievable Father."



from wilmore, with Love.

yesterday, he died

On Wednesday's chapel I snapped this picture. I have never seen anything or been a part of anything like it- all of the Christ elements in Estes chapel were recessed out the back door and a black cloth was draped over a cross, perched on a naked, cold table. The starkest of stark contrasts of the light though the window cuts to highlight the body bag veiling the cross. Underneath the mystery is etched "This do in remembrance of me."
It has really cut me deep this year. He died. Dead. There was a funeral for him, a shoddy one that ended in somebody else's coffin, but still. Someone whom over the past year I have gotten to know so much better, Someone whom I am now beginning to make sense of how much He loves me, Someone who has walked with me and been with me every stride through a very tough 2008 is dead. Honestly, for the first time it hit me like this, my best friend, truest friend, most amazing companion has been gruesomely killed. Certainly, He's so much more, but for this year it felt like the One that loves me the most died yesterday. He's gone, only pictures, memories, and stories remain. It seems Fridays will never be the same. Maybe tomorrow will be different.

from wilmore, with Love.

you can never have too much love, right?

Just poppin in here to let you know I have started a new little sidekick blog called "for:the:love."


You may have already seen it sometime in the past couple weeks, but many of my quickhitter posts are being shipped over there now- pictures, quotes, videos, and the funsized youtube wafer cookies. Swing by there, subscribe, and enjoy some more love. Also, to throw in a quick plug- the new blog is from Tumblr. Check them out too- really smooth designs, super easy to use, and it work great with Twitter.

from wilmore, with Love.

great writers CREATE

...and not just describe. Massive difference there. I've heard this before from a friend. Because I truly want to become a better writer, I will be trying to take this advice. Perhaps it will serve as a great help to you too.

from wilmore, with Love.

sabbath prayer

Heard this jaw-dropping line this week from JD Walt as he told me a story about a friend of his. A monk told her to pray this one-lined prayer. May it unravel something in you today to better grasp the love God has for you, His beloved child.

"Lord, help me to believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is."

from wilmore, with Love.

guilty as charged

Read this today in our Community Reader. It made me stop and take a deep breath this morning. This needed to be passed along to others.
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"Lifted up from the earth"
We are tempted to find, in such language, a method or formula to "draw all people." We warp His words into something we can do- sing, dance, praise, and thus "lift Him high." But there is no mistake what He means; "He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die."
It is not in the safety of musical worship services that all will be drawn to Jesus, but in the agony of crucifixion. It's not in something we can do, some formula we can master; it's something HE did. Only by the cross will all be drawn to Him. And so He does not bid us, "Exalt me in song," but, "Deny yourselves, take up your cross, and follow Me."

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*raising my hand sheepishly for warping His words many times in the past*

Journey with me and the Asbury Community with our online reader- check it out here, and subscribe to the blog feed. Yet again, why aren't you with us on Twiturgy? Get on twitter (for a whole MULTITUDE OF REASONS), then search for "twiturgy", click to "follow." Hope to see ya around.

from wilmore, with Love.

your top 5?

These conversations has been going on with a few friends for a couple weeks now. Lindsay and I talked about it last night on our hot date too. Ironically, the team I get work with for chapel discussed it last week at their meeting, and I missed it! So, thought I would unleash these great topics in this space, could be pretty fun.

Your top 5, in no particular order, dinner guests, living?

Your top 5, in no particular order, dinner guests, dead?

Mine so far:
Living- Bill Cosby, Bono, Michael Jordan, Coach K, and Fred Beuchner
Dead- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "Pistol" Pete Maravich, John the Beloved, Thomas Merton, Abraham Lincoln

Your turn. Leave in the comments, let's get to talking.

from wilmore, with Love.