This October

Two Thursday nights ago I helped Emily Carlson lead music for "9 o'clock"—Union's new all-music worship. Just guitars and vocals, no mics, no lights, very low-key. Emily and I lingered in the Rees Hall chapel afterward, and she taught me Starfield's "Cry in My Heart."

As we made our way out I noticed in my peripheral some students gathered around a table in the lobby playing a very loud game of cards. My heart ached.

Years ago I would've been at that table. Those would've been my friends, and if they saw me walk by, they would've called me to join them. But everything passes, and time goes away. I turned and continued walking out of the lobby.

"Ben!"

Kenny and Taleah called after me, waving from the table for me to come join them. Surprised and glad, I turned and walked back, pulled up a chair, and we played "Ghetto UNO" for the next hour. Everyone agreed it was the best game night ever, and we made plans to do it again.

The next night I got to vespers ten minutes late, walked all the way up to the second row from the front, and stood awkwardly in the aisle while Pastor Rich talked about the Sabbath candle and the already full row of friends shifted to make room for me in the middle between Taleah and Emily. "I wanted to sit by you for your iPhone," said Taleah.

And as I sat there in vespers happily squeezed into that row with my friends, it occurred to me that five years ago I didn't know any of them. Five years ago I didn't think I would ever make any new dear friends again.

But I have.

It's like my life at Union has been a TV show, and I'm the lead character, but all the regulars from season one have left the show. These newbies are all a bit younger. They're my support now. I'm invested in them. Still part of me hopes the writers will bring back an old character for a special guest appearance, or maybe have a flashback or some kind of reunion so we can pretend, just for one night, that things are the way they used to be and nothing's changed.

For a few months now Ben Barber and I have been getting together once a week for Music Night. We sit in the Barber's living room till late, playing guitar, singing old songs, learning new ones. Sometimes other friends and family join in; sometimes it's just us. It feels like finding something I forgot I lost.

Last Tuesday my college roommate Justin and I talked on the phone for over an hour. I hadn't heard his voice since May. We're not very good at keeping in touch. There's so much distance, we're both busy, but we still care. So we scheduled a time to connect. It's good to schedule the time.

Friendships evolve; they are not static. We either adapt, or we're left behind. Five years ago I didn't know what that meant. Now I've made and lost enough to understand.

Your Love Is Strong

Genuosity

As far as I'm concerned, if when I'm washing my hands I linger under the water a few extra moments just because it feels so good, that means winter has come. I have a feeling it's going to be a long one.

Shawn Boonstra from It Is Written spoke for vespers and church last week. If I hadn't been playing piano for song service Friday night, I probably wouldn't have even gone. And I was in a foul mood when he started speaking, completely distracted, sending texts, not at all focusing on what he was saying, but somehow he pulled me out of it and won me over with his stories and his genuosity. He asked some serious questions that were hard to take in, questions I needed to honestly ask myself.

Which left me all moody and alone-feeling and effectively ruined my weekend. Bleh.

I spent most of yesterday evening practicing my cello. I'm meeting with a professor from UNL on Wednesday, and I'm supposed to have something prepared to play for her. I might start taking private lessons again. For real. We'll see how things progress from there.

In other news, this morning Leslie sent me this text message:

Today, my boss passed me in the hall at work and asked me "Do you have a sec?" I was trying to be flippant and replied "I have tons of secs." We both pretended I didn't say that. MLIA.

At first I thought this had actually happened to her, and I was ready to call Ashley and share the hilarity of it all, but then Leslie told me it was from the site MyLifeIsAverage.com

It's my new favorite thing. Taleah had previously shown us FMyLife.com. But I find MLIA much less crass and therefore funnier. Here are a couple other favorites:

Today, I was in a store pretending to be a mannequin. I saw a little girl running around as her mom tried to leave, yelling, "I haven't said goodbye to everyone!" She proceeded to run down the line of mannequins, hugging them all. When she got to me, I hugged her back. I've never heard anyone scream so hard. MLIA

Today I entered the grocery store, only stepping on the grey tiles. I turned down the cereal aisle and a small child told his mother, "Look mom, He doesn't step on the hot lava either." I high-fived the kid as I walked by. Sadly, I accidentally stepped in the lava. Not wanting to upset the child, I pretended to melt. MLIA

Refusery

The blazer I'm wearing today has a butt flap. I'm unsure how I feel about this. It seems pretentious. I was going to take a picture with my iPhone to show you, but my phone just died. Stupid iPhone.

Stupid AT&T. It's not like I make a lot of phone calls, so the few calls I do make should be quality and not dropped every 30 seconds. That's all I ask.

I've decided not to buy any more paper clips until I absolutely have to. I've been nearly out of them for at least three weeks now, and yet I haven't actually run out yet. It seems that whenever I absolutely need one, there's one available. As there should be. I mean, really, where do they all go? Compelling thoughts, I know...

I have a slightly sore throat, and I sneezed a few times this morning, and I have very little energy. I refuse to believe this is H1N1. I choose to believe it's because I haven't been sleeping well.

Did you know Pandora only lets you listen to 40 hours of free music per month? I found that out in August. So I'm glad it's September now. If for no other reason than that.

I'm traveling to Maryland this weekend to visit my brother and his family. Hopefully I will update you soon with fun stories, pictures, and such.

Back in the Saddle

Leslie woke me up this morning and made me cream of wheat with blueberries. This might be what it's like to have a wife. Like a mother, but less nagging.

Now she's standing outside my door describing her gas. "It's like a blanket that wraps around you," she says. She checks her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall, adjusts her collar, and smiles. "God made me special," she says.

I've decided to wear my Peter Pan shorts today. Peter Pan because that's who Leslie likened me to when I came out of the changing room at the Gap. "They make you look like a little boy," she said. But I like them anyway. They're dark green, a greenish grey-brown color, and fall just below my knees. I love the cut of them, and the fabric. Plus they were on clearance. So I bought them, despite Leslie. (Also of note, they're size 28. I wear 30, but these fit perfectly. Curious.)

"I'll see you at work," says Leslie as she heads for the door. I'm still sitting on my bed in my bathrobe in no real rush. "You know, we're living together and working together now," she adds.

"Yes," I reply. "We might be pushing our luck."

Nashville / Reunited

I recently spent an extended weekend in Nashville, Tennessee. The occasion: Christa Schafer and Wes Campbell's wedding. It was an intimate and beautiful ceremony held in the Japanese Garden at Cheekwood. I played "The Swan" as Christa walked through the bamboo. My friend Michael gave the homily. The air was warm and bright, family was gathered in the secluded garden, and it was perfect.

While I was in Nashville I stayed with my friend Leslie. She's been in Thailand for the last eight months, and it was wonderful to see her. (Thank you Leslie for feeding me and giving me a bed to sleep in and a car to drive.) I also got to spend time with Michael and Angela and Rahel and Kirk, friends I don't see often enough.

The goodbyes were easier this time around. Not because I don't care anymore. Not because I wanted to leave. But because I know I will see these friends again. Even though we're bad at keeping in touch between visits, we visit each other often. These are lifelong friendships. We are so blessed.

(Hover over the pictures for a description; I was too lazy to make captions using CSS.)

Why We Hold On

The heart holds onto what it wants to hold on to. It's like anything. You do what you're able to do at the time. And I guess, depending on what it is that you're holding on to, if it's something that's keeping you from living your life, then chances are you need to not hold on so tight, and if it's something that adds meaning and value to your life in the present, then I think it's worth holding on to. 'Cause someday we're all gonna have our head on a death bed, someday, and chances are the things that mean the most to us are not gonna be within sight or within reach, but all those things are what made our life valuable. And so why let go of it? Unless it's a real deterrent from embracing what's happening in the moment, my feeling is, what we remember is all we've got. That is what your life is.

Amy Grant, on her song "Missing You"