A week into March and I’m finally getting around to writing my What I’m Into post for the month of February. February was just that kind of a month — there wasn’t enough of it.
Even so, lots of people in the blogosphere wrote lots of really great posts that are resonating with me on deep levels, wise sentences and turns-of-phrases working their way into my bones, and I’m excited to share that with you.
So, off we go…
Sarah Bessey wrote about how she will not be silenced, which for her meant she drove into the country and “wrestled my life into a Jesus-shape all over again.” (This would be one of the those phrases finding its way into my bones.)
Emily Maynard, who I found because she writes for Prodigal Magazine, started her own blog. And in its first month, she wrote about listening to young women as they wrestle through issues of sex and purity (and as a former youth leader, this one speaks to me on a d.e.e.p. level). And she wrote about being an angry feminist, which she realized when she kicked a boy in youth group in the shin. (I have been there. Actually, I decked my youth minister in the jaw, but that’s another story. This convinces me that Emily Maynard and I could be friends in real life.)
Ally Vesterfelt wrote a really great piece for Prodical this month about how becoming a good Christian made her a bad person. “God never asked me to be a good Christian. He asked me to be more like him.”
Alise Wright came back from a trip to Moldova, and wrote a piece for Deeper Story about who her family actually is.
And I was totally taken in by Megan Phelps-Roeper’s story of leaving Westboro Baptist Church. Like, I read this from Christianity Today and then proceeded to blog and Twitter stalk her like it was my job, because she and her story are just that fascinating.
Jesse, Amy, and I are late to the party, but we’ve jumped on the Downton Abbey bandwagon. We demolished the first season on Netflix, and then I stole without her knowledge borrowed the DVDs for seasons 2 and 3 from my mom. (And because I’m on Twitter, I already know what happens at the end of 3. And I’m already traumatized by it.)
My friend Beth and I had a good ol’ fashioned, stayed-up-too-late-talking kind of a sleepover one weekend, and in the midst of she got me totally hooked on Psych. I seriously should have been watching this one years ago, because hello! It’s hilarious with the bad puns and we know how I love bad puns. But, it also centers on a best friend crime-solving duo, and I could not love the interplay between Gus and Shawn more.
Beth has just moved Stateside again after living in Scotland for the last five years, and one of the things she brought back with her is a love for rugby. And after spending most of my Saturdays in February watching the Six Nations tournament with my friend, I now mostly understand the rules and am a die-hard fan of Leigh Halfpenny the Welsh team.
JJ Heller and Chris Tomlin, live and in person, in one weekend.
There was a Friday this month where I joined 9,000 people at the Baltimore arena and sang hymns and worship songs, and truly was ushered to the feet of Jesus in that space. Because singing “Crown Him with Many Crowns” with that many people who live into those words is a profound experience.
The Monday after that Friday, the BFF and I headed to see one of our faves, JJ Heller. She played a split set of familiar and new, since her and her guitar-playing husband, Dave, have a new record coming out in March. (Although, I have to confess that JJ played in the middle of the concert set, and the BFF and I bailed before the headliner finished their first song. It was, after all, 9 PM and we were tired. But, I figure we win our cool points back by the lengthy discussion we had at intermission about Rachel Held Evans’ Year of Biblical Womanhood, and dating and marriage, and Jesus. Or at least, we win them back in our eyes.)
Because watching rugby and finding new TV and going to concerts wasn’t enough, I’ve also been continuing to work out, getting very excited about the marks-toward-getting healthy that I’ve been seeing. Mostly, none of my pants fit anymore and I have to buy a new little black dress for my friend’s birthday in a few days. And I’m running a twelve minute mile, which means I’m on target to run a 5k in less than 45 mins, which I know is nothing to brag about. Except I was a fat kid who crapped out on a hike in Haiti last July, and now I’m running 5ks. It’s not much, but it’s something.