Love is in the air...

Sorry, friends and family, I've been a little uninspired and a lot busy the last week or so and haven't had the juice to post. But for the sake of keeping you coming back for more, here's a question:

What are some of your favorite cheesy love songs?

You know, the ones that make you go, "Awwwww..." and remind you of that one girl/guy and HOW in love you were/could have been...or the ones that make the tears fall when you're lying in your bed at night listening to Delilah (you know who you are, and I am NOT one of you...any more).

And no embarrassment allowed. This is a safe place. :)

I can't get no satisfaction...

Okay, once again I'm posting something totally un-original. But this made me think of a friend of mine, not to mention my own present sense of identity/purpose-crisis. So, here you go. This is from the latest online issue of Relevant magazine (see my previous post on this fab mag for a link):

PEACE IN RESTLESSNESS
by Stephen Simpson

I had arrived. I was married to a wonderful woman, I had a decent place to live, and I was making a living doing exactly what I wanted to do. My wife and I had found a church that we both liked, and I was going to church regularly for the first time in years. I even taught Sunday school. I should have been at peace. I wasn't.

After that opening, you might expect me to reveal some dark secret, like I was addicted to sniffing glue. Or maybe you thought I'd deferred some lifelong dream, like becoming a circus clown or a Jedi Knight. Nope. I liked my life just fine, but something still eluded me. I never felt finished, never felt like I'd arrived. It was impossible to achieve a worry-free homeostasis. Just when I'd save some money, my car would break down. If my career was humming along, my wife's would go off the rails, or vice versa. But it wasn't just the slings and arrows of fortune that disquieted me. I was restless. I ached for something new to explore, some new challenge. My wife called it my "obsession of the month." I wanted to write a novel, record an album, right some social wrong or run for political office. When that didn't work, I turned to diversion, be it running marathons, playing video games or hanging out at the local bar drinking beer and playing trivia games.

Don't get me wrong—I wasn't miserable, just impatient. I expected all the studying and working crappy jobs I did in my 20s to pay off in a feeling of quiet vindication once I was a married professional thirtysomething. Where was my peace? Where was the well-dressed guru I'd hoped to become?

A friend of mine struggled with a similar problem. He retreated to a Benedictine monastery to try to get his head around it. One of the monks spent some time in spiritual direction with him. When my friend told the monk about his restlessness, his response surprised him.

"Good," he said. "We live in a fallen world. You should be restless." Huh? What the heck kind of answer is that? I thought Christians were supposed to achieve perpetual inner peace. I thought I'd end up with a glowing countenance and a wise smile as I dispensed wisdom and good vibes from a comfortable chair. Now some monk says I should be restless. I told my friend he should ask for his money back.

Then I remembered something or, rather, someone: Jesus. I tried to think of a time when Jesus felt finished, like He'd arrived. I thought of one, but it didn't help: Jesus arrived when He died. After His resurrection, He had that Zen quality I'd been looking for, but before that, He was restless. He traversed Judea looking for the poor, infirm and brokenhearted. He turned over temple tables and pissed off the Pharisees. He sweat blood and died on a cross, all because the fallen state of the world made Him restless.

Sooner or later, the dream of a perfect, peaceful life has to die. Thoreau said, "Most men live lives of quiet desperation." Bono sang, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for." I think I know now what they mean. I'm called to a life of silent striving, because the world's imperfect and so am I. As long as I have breath, something will be incomplete.

As a psychologist, I've seen a lot of people suffer because they can't accept this. They want their lives to be perfect and experience a lot of disappointment and rage as a result. I've seen couples despair when marriage isn't the fantasy they imagined in their youth. I've seen businessmen who can't understand why money doesn't make them happy. I've worked with ministers who pull their hair out because their congregation continues to behave like sinners. But these folks come to a place of healing once they understand that striving with such imperfection is part of who we are. Until Christ redeems the world, we'll always have work to do.

But there's good news. Our restlessness can give us peace. Once we realize that we can't force perfection and that we depend on God to sustain us, we can reach a place of quiet determination. We can learn to relish restlessness as a sacred purpose, sustained by the Holy Spirit. It also makes us take heaven more seriously. If you're like me, you sometimes think of heaven as a retirement home, a place you'll go after you've gotten what you want out of life. But if we realize that the peace our hearts desire comes only in eternity, enduring the restlessness of life in a fallen world becomes easier. In Philippians 3:12-14, Paul writes, "Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal ... but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus." Or, as Pete Townshend says in "The Seeker," "I'm not gonna get what I'm after til the day I die."

But we aren't dead yet. We have work to do. Doing that work can be thrilling and fulfilling if we rely on God and accept that we live in an imperfect world. In the movie Gladiator, Maximus wants to be with his wife and son in the afterlife. One of his fellow gladiators tells him, "You will see them again, but not yet." First, Maximus has to kick some butts and straighten out the Roman Empire. When he dies at the end of the movie and joins his family, he gets what he really wanted all along. Our time of peace is coming. One day, there will be an end to the striving against evil in the world, sin in our lives and restlessness in our hearts. But not yet.

[Stephen Simpson lives in Pasadena, Calif., where he and his wife are expecting quadruplets.]

Meet the man

Ethan and Aunt Lolo 

Like the good little boy he will all too soon grow to be, Ethan Edward waited on his Aunt Lorie to get to the hospital before he made his entrance into the world at 7:42pm on Friday, April 8th, with his 6-pound (and 1/2 oz.), 18.5 inch-long self.

And I mean that literally---I got there (to the hospital) right after they'd said they were going to have to close off the birthing room, so I only got to go in and say "hi" and give Emily a hug before they shooed us all out and let her get down to business. About an hour and fifteen minutes later the little guy was here! And HE is perfect. See for yourself...


Ethan and mommy 


Ethan and daddy (two worn-out King boys!) 


So peaceful! 


The Thinker 


It's a hard-knock life...a man deserves his rest. 


(He's getting ready to sneeze!) 

The winds of change...

Well, there's been a new development in my life. While it's been nice being a single woman and enjoying my freedom while it's lasted...the time for change has come. Who knew I'd be thirty before this guy came into my life? But it's never too late. And God's timing is perfect... I'm going to be an aunt! Today or tomorrow! A nephew of my very own!

My brother (Dan) and sister-in-law (Emily) are at the hospital right now. They text messaged me around 6:00 this morning, and when I talked to them at 7:30, things were progressing but slowly. There's no telling how long the little critter (Tyler Henry? Cody Edward? Ethan Edward?) will wait to make his appearance. But I'm excited. It's very surreal in a way. I almost got choked up when I talked to Emily on the phone...

New life is an amazing thing. And the fact that babies come out of women is totally gross but extremely awe-inspiring. The creativity of God and the intricacy of his designs never cease to amaze me!

Trust me, people, there WILL be pictures of the little one for all to see on this very blog.

The Curse of the Ohio Valley

Otherwise known as The Crud. Or, simply, allergies.

A person can have lived an allergy-free life for many years and in many places, but once they relocate to the Ohio Valley---namely, Louisville---they will inevitably be inflicted by flora-inspired allergy problems. It took me two years to fall under the curse. I thought it was just a cold...but, alas, it was only the beginning of my new life. Whereas I used to look disdainfully on the wusses and wimps who claimed allergen-induced puniness, I now fully understand and am ashamed of my former attitude towards those who are now my fellow sufferers.

There was a guy I dated shortly after moving here who suffered tremendously for months during the spring---swollen eyes, cough, sinus infections, couldn't ride around with his windows rolled down, etc. His wimpiness was a major hang-up for me. How could I think of marrying a guy who was so sickly?! Bless his heart. Forgive me, Colby. If I'd only known then what I know now... I'd cry for you, if my eyes weren't swollen shut. Achoo!

Just one more thing...

So I heard this Sara Groves song for the first time today, on a cd that a friend gave me. It struck me as so poignant, given my current rate of living and what I've observed around me. It made me think of all the relationships in my life---God, family, church community, friends, acquaintances, coworkers. How important is that apparently oh-so-important next thing when, in the end, relationships will be all I have to show for?

Just One More Thing

There's always just one more thing
There's always another task
There's always 'I just have one more small favor to ask'
And everything is urgent and everything is now
I wonder what would really happen if I stopped somehow

I'll be there in a minute
Just a few places to go
You wake up a few years later and your kids are grown
And everything is important
But everything is not
At the end of your life your relationships are all you've got

And love to me is when you put down that one more thing and say
I've got something better to do
And love to me is when you walk out on that one more thing and say
Nothing will come between me and you
Not even one more thing

There will never be an end to
The request upon your time
It's your place to stand up and tell the world
You've got to rest awhile
And everything is important
But everything is not
At the end of your life your relationships are all you've got

And love to me is when you put down that one more thing and say
I've got something better to do
And love to me is when you walk out on that one more thing and say
Nothing will come between me and you
Not even one more thing