Because I can:

Thinking about Reformed Theology, the Emergent or Emerging Church(es), Abortion/Poverty/War/and other issues, International House of Prayer, multi-site churches, friendship evangelism, The Shack, New Age Parenting, and a smattering of other things. I typically give my opinions on things freely--if I'm wrong (and I usually am in some respect), I'll figured it out, someone will point it out, or God will weed it out in some way. I'm not afraid of being wrong. I am, however, afraid of other people saying I'm wrong and disregarding me completely because of it.

I think about this this morning because I'm reading The Message translation, the book of Job. And I realized that I read a positive review by Eugene Peterson on a book that I didn't think was so positive--and that this was coloring my reading of his translation. Fair in some respects, what we believe about one thing affects what we believe about many things. But unfair in other respects, what we believe about one thing may not have been thought completely through to many things. It doesn't disqualify any specific thought or belief, it only cautions us to be wise with our opinions--processing them more fully. We can't know all, but we can know some, as long as we remember that our Some is still only Some.

Thinking about how nice it feels to be surrounded by things I love and things that are mine. A green mug, picked up by a dear friend six or seven years ago, holds my coffee this morning. Favorite books, forgotten books, bracketting my slipcovered sofa. A down comforter, keeping me too warm at night. Dishes, artwork, lined baskets, things lovingly kept, refinished, rescued and packed away for so long--they are my surroundings now. I am loving this new apartment. It isn't home yet, but it will be soon. I know.

Thinking about how much I already miss being a part of life at home. Warming my feet by the woodstove, beating and being beat at Scrabble, coming home to her saying "there's no beef at dinner tonight because you're here!", being a part of something that's bigger than me and my things. I have plans for this apartment on Elm Street, plans for hospitality and ministry, for rest and fellowship, but I'm glad that I was a part of a brick house in seven miles away for a season. While I lived there my things were packed away, but I learned so much. While I live here, my things are unpacked and so too, I hope, will be the lessons.

Thinking more clearly than I have in a long time. Part of the strain of the past few weeks has been the unclear thinking. I say to my coworker on Monday, "I can't even type, a combination of weakness, and inabilty to focus on simple things like spelling!" It's amazing what rest does to our bodies. I've never hated rest, I like it. But there is built inside of me this reckless and wrong belief that I can never do enough, must do more. And when I feel like I'm failing at the More part, I want to fail. I want to crawl in a hole and just Be A Failure.

A friend said to me on Tuesday, "You can't sleep too much at this point. Your body is repairing itself, recalibrating. Just let it repair. Sleep."

And I find, it isn't just my body that's been rest-less, it's been my soul, too. So my body is catching up on sleep, it is, I promise, though it still aches and needs time, but I feel my soul repairing too. I feel it thinking again.

Thinking that I like to think.