the society of the sea

"If the coast guard did stop by, it was for a cup of coffee. We were part of a society: the society of the sea."

-Latts & Atts

from the first week i breathed life on this planet i became a member of the society of the sea. i have the seas in my veins. and i will promise you this friends, there is no better life than the one spent on the water.

"Haul the sheet in as we ride on the wind
That our forefathers harnessed before us
Hear the bells ring as the tight rigging sings
Its a son of a gun of a chorus"

these friends of mine

friends. i see Jesus in these people.

alexandria.

the God loving, earth caring, food cooking, beautiful soul that i call my best friend. a lover of God and of people. so full of adventure and life. when i'm around her, i'm more compassionate, more honest, more of the me that God is calling me to be.

jaime.

lays down her life for the best and worst of friends. holds tightly to God's promises and is a friend who truly understands what it takes to stand in the will of God. she keeps me sane when i'm tip-toeing the edge of insanity.

marcus.

the kindest man i know. loves those who don't deserve love. cares more deeply for the people around him than anyone i have ever known. chases after God with such fervor. and never, never, never gives up on anyone.

nathan.

the thinker. the professor. the contemplator. he wrestles with every idea, relationship, aspect of life. when he cares, he cares deeply. he is one-hundred percent in or one-hundred percent out. he is deep and good and full of wisdom. he is my brother, the first person i call. his wisdom is a strong, steady keel in an ocean of waves.

behr.

makes everyday new. everyday bright. everyday beautiful. she's a rock in a crashing sea of unsteady friendships. beautiful, free, and young. she grows boldly and pulls others up off the ground as she grows upward. she's full of forgiveness and mercy. she's my neighbor, my friend, my late-night-confidant. i laugh harder and breathe deeper when we are together.

andrew.

sacrifices sleep, food, homework, sanity for his friends. gives so much of himself. lives abundantly, beautifully, and true. lays down his life for his friends daily. honest and true, and his friendship makes me more so. our first conversation was 10 hours long. (not exaggerating)

paul.

his smile, laughter, humor are contagious, but not ignorantly so. his kindness shows the wisdom of a life that has seen less happy times. he soaks up each day so fully, sometimes, i swear i can see each ray of sunlight sink into his skin. he is so sincere, and i learn what sincerity is every time he hugs me.

arin.

wonderful. wonderful. wonderful. one of the most intelligent minds and souls that i know.  a lover of words and thoughts. he has taught me the value of every-single-word.  every word is carefully chosen. every thought, thought out. he is bluntly honest and wonderfully bold. his life humbles and encourages me.

allison.

humble and beautiful. steady and bright. her laughter lights up rooms. her compassion topples buildings. she has a voice that the most talented lark would envy. a beautiful woman, down to the deepest part of her soul. i am humbled to call her friend.

you bless me more than you know.

the pedestrian life

i made my first dinner in the new house!

i cooked for trena, gabe, mike, and ben. i made stir-fry with lime-cilantro chicken and peppers and onions. i also made home-made guac. everyone seemed to enjoy it!

pictures to come of food and house soon!

(also: going on a bike ride tomorrow on sophia[my schwinn breezer])

"This is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that move-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets – this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of use will ever experience."

-shauna niequist

oh my gosh i'm human.

i cannot tell you the last time i felt this alive:

it's a brand new day

this song came on pandora 2 minutes ago.

It’s a brand new day
The sun is shining 
It’s a brand new day
For the first time in such a long long time
I know I’ll be ok

Most kind of stories
Save the best part for last
And most stories have a hero who finds
You make your past your past
Yeah you make your past your past

It’s a brand new day
The sun is shining 
It’s a brand new day
For the first time in such a long long time
I know I’ll be ok

This cycle never ends
You gotta fall in order to mend

It’s a brand new day
It’s a brand new day
For the first time in such a long long time
I know I’ll be ok

familiar, distinct, and strong.

today i was walking to class through downtown holland when i smelled the scent of smoked salmon. and all of a sudden, i am 9 years old again chasing my brother through the docks on the dam. the indian fishing boats are coming in. the sun is just short of noon. the stores are opening. and we are running up the hill to town. 

in the grocery store, we buy fresh cherries and jones soda. then we stop at the shanty for fresh cheese and bread. i always get a sourdough roll, i like the bitterness of the thick bread against the sweetness of the deep red cherries. my brother likes the sharpness of the Wisconsin cheese.

then, to Carlson's for the fish. 1/2 pound of smoked salmon. i don't like the taste, but the smell is familiar, distinct, and strong. and finally, down to sit on the docks, watching the fish eat our bread crumbs and nibble at the pits of the cherries that we spit into the clear, crisp, northern water. 

and then, taking the boat, my brother and i escape to the beach. we're not really old enough to drive, but we push quietly off the back of the sailboat and head out of the rocky pier that protects all the boats, out of the safe harbor. and we spend the afternoon collecting treasures. petoskey stones, coral, sea glass, and sand. i'm best at spotting the stones, even when they're dry on the shore. but dad will yell at us later for getting sand in the boat and weighing the sailboat down with our treasures. apparently you don't really need 200 petoskey stones.  "you should really  leave some for other people to find." 

ending the day on a picnic table that rocks back and forth on a track. the warm summer air filtering through the streets of the quiet little town. eating ice cream. and the stars begin to shine through the deep indigo sky and the sun sinks into the lake, illuminating the islands in front of it before it drops beneath the surface. 

and sixteen sweet summers full of life, adventure, and unadulterated innocence come rushing back.

simple fanaticism

i think the most fanatical way to live a christian life is not loud or prominent or crazy. but a day-by-day, semi-boring, not too exciting sort of way. 

i don't need to live in an exclusive christian community.

i don't need to go to every bible study. every worship service. every church camp. every chapel. 

and when i drop something on my foot, i say shit. it hurts.

real, fanatical christianity is 

breathing because i can.

feeling the warmth of the sun in the depth of winter.

savoring a grapefruit.

loving my God.

loving my friends.

loving my neighbor.

loving my enemy.

true christianity is being fanatical enough to decide that every day counts. that serving dinner to friends is ministry. that a coffee house can be as holy as a church sanctuary. that your body is a temple and should be treated as such. fanatical enough to know that some days are hard. some days are boring. some days we just get by. some days we just have grace enough for today. 

the fragility of life.

"get a life. get a real life. a life in which you stop and wonder and are full of awe."
-Professor Diane Portfleet

"it is better to die than to live and not breathe."
-johnny y. and sam p.

these are my vital signs

i stole this idea from amelia.

these are the things in my life that remind me i'm alive. these are things that make life worth living. these are my vital signs.

longboarding on a windy, beautiful fall day with incredible friends.

playing guitar by myself on a rainy day.

watching dead poets society with good friends.

driving in my car with the windows down and trees changing colors and a warm breeze and good music.

running in the rain.

having real conversations. about life. about the joy and the suffering. and about the God who makes all things new.


worshipping in chapel.

heart-to-hearts.


the first snow.

good coffee with good friends.
books. good ones. books worth reading.

hot apple cider.

best friends. one in particular who reminds me to breath.

"our wildest dreams aren't half wild enough..."

“Notice how many places in the accounts of Jesus’ life he gets frustrated with his disciples. Because they are incapable?” No, because of how capable they are. He sees what they could be and could do, and when they fall short, it provokes him to no end. It isn’t their failure that’s the problem; it’s their greatness. They don’t realize what they are capable of.”
-Rob Bell, “Velvet Elvis”-

it’s true, you know?

It really is. How frustrating it must be to be the creator, the sole designer of a species that has barely even scraped away the surface of their potential?

we are a people designed for great things.
We were not designed to live small, insignificant lives.
But rather,
We were designed to live lives that matter.

Lives well lived.
Lives lived big.
Lives lived in the acknowledgement of the crazy, beautiful, mad scientist that created them.

It’s not that we live our lives too loud, but rather that we tiptoe around them.

Dream wilder.
Live louder.
Pray crazier.

My friend Amanda said this in her blog, Zecer:

“Our wildest dreams aren’t half wild enough"

"i want to get home every night and be exhausted..."

i truly love living.

is that so strange?

i really do.

i love it. i love it. i love it.

i like waking up in the morning and breathing deeply.
i like stretching and yawning loudly.
i like working outside in the harsh summer sun.
i like arizona tea.
i like good friends.
i like the community table at LJ's.
i like sketching and painting.
i like the water. the waves. the lake.
i like hookah on the beach.
i like rebellious drives in my little red station wagon.
i like to ride my bicycle.
i like running until i cannot go any farther, then turning around and running home.
i like the way my skin turns bronze.
i like dinners on tuesday nights.
i like silly music.
i like writing music.
i like playing music.
i like music.
i like my camera.
i like that circuit city has good warranty protection plans so i can fix my camera.
i like indecisive frattes.
i like mind, body and soul coffee.
i like lovecake.
i like miss ally jester.
i like my dress, that may actually be a shirt, but i don't care.
i like friday dinners with my parents.
i like call my brother and talking with him.
i like dreaming big.
i like good talks.
i like deep conversations.
i like sarcasm.
i like surprises. (especially ones that look like little red station wagons)
i like silly dancing with house mates.
i like living on my own.
i like thinking about serious decisions.
i like making big changes.
i like knowing who i am.
i like knowing that i am enough.
i like friends who aren't afraid to tell me to stop being a jerk.
i like puppies.
i really like puppies.
i want a puppy.
i like the pitbull puppies that are all over our neighborhood.
i like my grandparents.
i like teasing my g-pa on the phone.
i like my aunt marjie. she's the best.
i like teaching sailing.
i like nannying.
i like middle schoolers.
i like my new hat.
i like jesus sandals.
i like misty edwards.
i like mate tea.
i like life.

i really do.
i really. really. really. really. like life.

it's so. so, good,

and i want to live it out. i want to run and dance and skip and jump. i want to run and roll down hills like trees. i want to see the world and meet people and talk to them and soak up everything i possibly can. i want to get home every night and be exhausted, because i truly lived out every moment i could.

let's live friend.
let's breathe deep.


let's set this world on fire.

"hello goodbye?"

tonight on my way to the coffee shop, "lemonjellos", where I am sitting right now, i passed a lady on the stairs of my apartment. she said, "hello" and asked how i was. i replied, "good."

now here's the strange part.

after i said, "good", she said, "good thanks."

the unusual part of this conversation wasn't that she was good, but that i had never asked her how she was. i never said, "and how are you?" she just assumed that i would ask. interesting isn't it? and i don't that she even realized what she had said. i think she was just on auto pilot.

isn't it strange? how easily we walk through life without even noticing things or truly interacting? our questions and responses are simply dictated by the norms of society. we don't think about our words until they are flying, hurdling, tumbling out of our mouths with no chance of ever catching them again. our tongues have been set loose without restraint. we speak. we scream. we declare. we proclaim. we whisper. but we never think. how strange. we have lost the ability to think. or maybe not so much the ability to think, but rather to prioritize. we have placed speaking in front of intelligent thought.

i hope i'm not just hurdling through this life on autopilot. i hope i'm looking around. i hope i'm making real friendships and real relationships with real conversations. i hope i'm living my life in a way that acknowledges that i'm alive. i hope that i'm living in a way that shows real love. real faith. real christianity. a real God.

oh i hope and pray so.

taste the night air.

"Listen; there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go."
-E.E. Cummings

life is meant to be lived friend.

you don't have to be dead to be un-alive.

wake up. breathe. this day was put into motion by a God who loves every moment.

the weight of a moment

this moment has substance. if you opened this moment up, life would explode out of it like an old aerosol paint can. a little rusty and well used on the outside, but life itself comes rushing out upon contact.

i think that life is that way sometimes. we sit around willing life to pass us by, to get to the next moment, the next semester, the next season, the next relationship, the next best thing. meanwhile we miss the beautiful thing we've had all along. like an old rusty can we set deep into the shelf and forgot about.

i wonder...how many beautiful moments have i hidden away deep in the darkness, dusty and forgotten? maybe, just maybe there are hundreds of them, maybe even thousands...

and what if? what if? what if i went home and scrounged in my cupboard and found all the old moments and gathered them up. and what if you went home and did the same. what if you went home and opened the creaky door, and reached far into the back, until your hand hit the wall? what if you gathered all your moments too? what if we gathered them in our hands, and ran outside. what if we ran into the front yard and threw them into a pile on the green, green grass?
and then...
..
..
..
what if we lit a match? what if we lit them all on fire?

and what if the heat caused them all to explode and life came rushing out?








what if instead of existing, we remembered what it was like to live?

friend.

sometimes its enough to just be a friend.

i greatly enjoy being a friend. but not just any friend. i enjoy being a friend who has a servant's heart. now, this isn't to say that i like to be used by my friends, that's not what i'm getting at here. but i truly enjoy caring and doing what i can to make my friends happy. its something that just makes me feel good.

like...
driving around holland.
and making pancakes at 2am.
and loving on them.

its not something we think about often, you know. Jesus as a friend. we think of him as Lord, Prince, and Savior. and its not that he isn't all of these things, because he is fully. but he was also a friend. a friend to his disciples, to poor, to the unloved.

i'm not sure that i truly understand what friendship is. honestly. i fall pretty short. but man, to love my friends and serve them like Jesus did??!? i want to kneel down. i want to wash your sore, tired feet my friend. come here. let me show you love.

"Speak- say the words that no one else will ever say
Love- love like the world we know is over in a day

I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before"
-Jars of Clay (Show you Love)

"Some part of that island grew in us, like our hearts, still wild, untamed, and still clinging desperately to an unapologetic innocence."

be warned, i usually mull these entries over more before i publish them, but here goes....

today, like many days, i find myself longing for something a little strange, and perhaps a little silly.

there is this part of my heart, buried way deep down inside, that is just burning with love. a love for the past. its a silly cycle that i fall into on occasion. i enjoy reeling through the thousands of memories. of days that were just right. of places that were more beautiful than i could ever imagine. of people, of friendships, that i held so dear. call me reminiscent, and you'd probably be right, but its almost more than that. its a longing for a season of life that was so, so good.

like the time my friend matt and i sat at the top of a mountain, completely stunned by it's power and beauty. i can't tell you another time i've felt God in quite that way. or the weekends of my childhood, when all the marina kids would gather in the parking lot for massive games of kick-the-can and street hockey until we could no longer see in the dim parking-lot lights. or the time cara and i went running in colorado. we ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. and when we were done, collapsed in complete exhaustion on the early morning dew. or the time when ali and i took the horses to the back pasture, and let them truly run, and gunner ran so fast i could feel my heartbeat line up with the pounding of his hooves against the soft earth. or the time rachael and i ran through an icy parking lot laughing so hard that i truly though we would never stop. and the perfect summers, all eighteen of them. waking up late, and sailing out to the beach. laying on the warm sand, and letting the sun turn my skin to bronze. or the times last summer when we played ultimate frisbee in the field with glow bracelets to see each other in the dark. and when we were done, the coolness of the summer night set in, like a cool breath of relief from God. or the times in ludington, when we didn't have a care in the world, but how early we could get to the beach. when we basked in the glow of one another's company, just pleased to be in the presence of friends we cared so dearly for. or how about the summers when we walked for hours across the manitous. and how during those walks, dad bestowed his wisdom on us through the telling of stories we had heard a thousand times. but we listened anyway. and we loved it. and we grew to know that island like the back of our hands. and perhaps we loved it so much because some part of that island grew in us, like our hearts, still wild, untamed, and still clinging desperately to an unapologetic innocence.

those people. those places. those feelings. i carry them with me, and perhaps that is why i continually find it so hard to move past them. to understand in my heart, that i can never live them again. that although they were good and were precious moments in the expanse of time. i will never regain them. i get so frustrated. sometimes i feel as though i will never be that happy, that in awe, in wonder, at peace, passionate, in love ever again. and the truth is, i won't. i will never feel that way again because i cannot regain or recreate a moment so destined by God. so perfect in every format possible. those moments were for then. they were perfect because of who i was and who i was becoming. and now. they might not fit so perfect, like trying to make two puzzle pieces fit in my desperation, that i know, simply will not fit.

and its a cruel reality to wake up to. that things won't be the same. they won't ever be the same. but that doesn't mean i'm settling. i'm not settling for a half-life, but one different than i imagined. and its not filled with the places, people, and things that i once thought it ought to. its a life overflowing with brilliant, vivacious color. its a life filled with friendships more deep and meaningful than i ever thought possible. its a life filled with the beauty of a sleepy mid-west coastal town. a town i tried so desperately to run from. its a life more full of questions, affirmation, and possibilities than i ever thought possible.

and it terrifies me to step into it. to step into this life, this day, this moment, knowing full well that it will be very unlike anything i have ever experienced before. it will be scary and daunting. and i will often feel as though i'm teetering on the edge of a very high cliff. it will be full of people unlike any i have ever known. and they will challenge me. they will force me to grow. we will share memories and feelings and times and places. we will chase after God together. and some of them will let me down. and i will let them down. i will fail them when they need me most. i will fall so desperately short of the friendship they give in return. but. oh, there will be the rare occasion when i will rise. i will in God's strength be there. i will say the right thing, at the right time. and somehow fulfill that small part of God's calling for my life.

and when i visit those places i won't feel the same things because they've changed, and in many ways, so have i. that doesn't mean the the things i feel, the places i go, or the people i share them with will be less real, less important, or less meaningful. no, if anything, they will mean different things. i will cherish the late night talks more. i will be at peace in the strangest places. i will breathe deeper. i will rest harder. and i will love with more compassion.

the future is not better, but its not worse either. its different. different in a way so unmistakably beautiful it catches the breath in my lungs. and for a second, i put those times back into their small place in my heart, and i get on with life. i get busy stepping into this life i'm called to live. i step into the brilliant, vibrant life set before me, knowing it's the only one i've been given. it's the only one i've been called to, its all my own, designed just for me. so i throw it over my shoulders, like a coat, worn by time and good use. i carry it, because it fits. it reminds me of where i went. where i am. and where i'm going. and its comforting to carry with me. to know that those memories, unrecoverable, are still with me, guiding me towards a tomorrow filled even more so with love, passion, and beauty.

ordinary moments become extraordinary lives

as i woke up this morning, and the sun kissed my face for the first time in ages, i drew in a breath of warm air.

it's the kind of day when the breeze is warmer than the air. where the breeze is so soft, so gentle, and brings with it the promise of spring, even when the ice still crunches like glass beneath my feet. today is the kind of day when the sidewalks are cleared not by shovels, but by the strength of the sun, and the warming of the earth. today is the kind of day, that when the sun hits my skin, it drives deeper, and the rays touch my heart, and my soul absorbs them like a hungry child. today is the kind of day when the splash of water from roof tops does not bother me when it hits my hair and rolls down my face. today, the drops of water are promises. the promise of life. the promise of rebirth, of renewal. today is the kind of day that i walk the two and a half blocks to the doors of a building where the people of God meet. today is the kind of day that when i walk, i arch my neck out, and i reach toward the sun. today is the kind of day when i see God's covenant with Noah. when i know that my God is a God of truth, that he holds firm to his promise. today is the kind of day when i know that spring will come. that this time of waiting, of slow, painful growth will soon come to an end. and i will burst forth from the ground, renewed, re-birthed.

today is the kind of day when God reveals to me the spiritual nature of his physical creation. that when the sun is out, my soul is deeply moved. or that when i am near water i feel so terribly close to the heart of God that it frightens me. or that when i stand on a mountain in colorado, the rocks cry out his name. all of creation longs for renewal, for rebirth, for the spring-time green of new life.

i am terrified. not so much of dieing, but of never having truly lived.

this life, this one small life we have been given is so throughly filled with abundance. we have only to experience the promise of spring or the power of creation. this life. this one small life is worth living. but not half-heartedly. if this life is a life of abundance, then this life is worth living out every small moment. this life is worth living out the insignificant moments, that become significant lives. this life, this one small life is worth every breath we are given.

the hebrew word for "breath" is "ruah". but the english translation loses it's depth. ruah means air-in-motion, life, spirit.

every breath we take is filled with motion. the motion of a God who is among us. who dwells is every small moment of our lives. every breath is filled with the motion of a God who drives our roots deeper, our arms wider, our hearts larger. every breath, every moment.... our lungs are filled with the living God.

every breath we take is filled with life. not a half-life. not a life meant to trudge through. not a clean orderly life. not a life that is merely an ends to a means. no. our breath is filled with abundant life. a life so worth living that we are designed for it. a life so worth living that God put his son on a cross for it. we are given this life for a purpose, to live it. to live it abundantly. to live in a way that we dare to collect the ordinary, well-lived moments, and gather them into an extraordinary life.

every breath we take is filled with the spirit. the very spirit of God. the spirit that empowers us to live a bold, full life. the spirit of a God who wants more for his people. the Spirit of the sovereign Lord who anoints us to preach good news to the poor. to bind up the broken hearted. to proclaim freedom for captives and release prisoners from darkness. this is the spirit that calls us to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. this is the spirit that gives us a call. to rebuild the ruins of a broken people. to restore hearts long devastated. to renew the everyday moments that have been devastated for generations.

so this day. this breath. every day. every breath is worth living. you child. you are an oak of righteousness. you. you are a planting of the Lord, for the display of his splendor. spring is upon us, and the year of the Lord is urgent. so i challenge you. not to live a loud life. a crazy untamed life. or a life that glitters and gleans. but a life that is average in the eyes of the world, and beautiful in the eyes of God. God wants to work in you. in today. in this breath. in this moment. in every day. every breath. every moment. these moments are becoming an extraordinary life. live it abundantly.

Isaiah 61

1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, [a]
2 to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,

3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.

4 They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations.

5 Aliens will shepherd your flocks;
foreigners will work your fields and vineyards.

6 And you will be called priests of the LORD,
you will be named ministers of our God.
You will feed on the wealth of nations,
and in their riches you will boast.

7 Instead of their shame
my people will receive a double portion,
and instead of disgrace
they will rejoice in their inheritance;
and so they will inherit a double portion in their land,
and everlasting joy will be theirs.

8 "For I, the LORD, love justice;
I hate robbery and iniquity.
In my faithfulness I will reward them
and make an everlasting covenant with them.

9 Their descendants will be known among the nations
and their offspring among the peoples.
All who see them will acknowledge
that they are a people the LORD has blessed."

10 I delight greatly in the LORD;
my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

11 For as the soil makes the sprout come up
and a garden causes seeds to grow,
so the Sovereign LORD will make righteousness and praise
spring up before all nations.