more bad times

nearly a year ago, the great laurie jayne presciently sent me a mixed cd.  the second she has made for me, it successfully holds its goal capturing sabi, the japanese philosophy of finding beauty in the sadness of things.


the last four songs especially are sublime, the first of that finale being a song called "more bad times" by the goofy "presidents of the united states of america."  it is a lovely song, almost unfortunately punctuated by lines of silliness, as the chorus tenderly laments, "i wish there were more bad times to see you through."

one can't help but ponder the delicate sabi quality of that....

at some point during my time as a missionary in japan or after, i remember thinking about the relationships and the closenesses that i had with different companions.  it was those with whom together we fought for something that i became the closest; those that together we worked hard for things, and more often than not it didn't work out, it didn't happen.  we jumped and fell, but we crashed together and could share in that.


those were the companions that i was closest to; they were the ones i was most excited to meet up with again at the next conference or sometime after.  perhaps it was because we were in it together, yet, as i write this, i wonder if it was also because we were willing to take the risk together of doing more, of trying more.  we went for it and we could meet up later and say, "dang, those were rough times but we made it!"


and years ago, when i was thinking about this, i followed the thought to prayer.  that just as i was most excited to see those with whom i had shared the bad times, i would probably much more excited to meet God at the end of my life if i had shared my life with Him.


if, when things were hard and discouraging and most non-triumphant, i prayed and trusted in Him, He would lead and guide me through, and so at that great and last day, it would not be meeting a distant and unknown God, but a Best Friend who was there with me through it all, and we could excitedly embrace in the joy of having made it through together.








during my time away from texas, i was able to see my dearest and bestest friends, those who have been with me for years, who know all about me and like me anyway.  it was seriously dang.

like, seriously.



and as i've been thinking about that and mulling over this post, i've realized that those who make me the happiest, or who bring out the happiest and best parts of me are those with whom i'm most comfortable and willing to share my saddest sides.
it's interesting.



on friday, as i was fighting the unorganized campus bus system in my latest attempt to move the administration along and allow me to register, i found myself again thinking what i have noticed several times over the years: that it is in the peaceful, calm, and happy moments of life that i most lament my singlehoodnesship.








that not having someone with whom to share the good moments of life, be they grand or insignificant, is perhaps the saddest part for me.

i had a mission companion who, in showing the joy of sharing the Gospel, would asking how the person felt when they had a good slice of pie.  "you want to share it with your friends," would be the usual response from the person at the door.  

lights will guide you home... 

i suppose it's the same.  life is a tasty [pecan] pie, but eating it by yourself isn't much fun.  (a better analogy for me would be watching a great movie; while it's fun and enjoyable by yourself, i'd rather have someone else to laugh with and get into it with and discuss it with afterward.)

here's to more bad times and the
accompanying awesomenesses  : )

mostly, i just wanted to write this post as an excuse to put up some pictures, since i'm not really one to post pictures on facebook.
(editor's note: but in this case, we did anyway)