So it's inevitable that from time to time one will lose their mind, their bearings, their oh so deliberate grasp on life. Sometimes this is evidenced through a scattered brain, unable to get one's mind wrapped around any aspect of the various inputs that are streaming towards oneself while other times it is brought to light when one realizes there has been a whole lapse of time that has disappeared and can not be accounted for. This has been the very narrow slippery slope I have found myself upon-- an indication that I've got a lot of stuff going on.

So after a long week of planning and getting off the ground artSPEAK I had a day off on Saturday. Things couldn't have been more off or strange for me that day. I got together with some good friends, took a walk around Greenlake, ate gelato... all good things. I got in my car to leave to discover that my purse (or so I thought) had been stolen. Frantically I ran in the house calling my bank, canceling all my debit cards, credit cards and anything else I could remember that was in my purse. I decided to give my friend a call and just see if my purse might have been in her house. She wasn't home. A few hours later she called to report that my purse was in the middle of her living room-- I have zero recollection of even carrying it in her house. Moments before I lost my keys to both offices. My interactions with my family were difficult and misunderstandings easily ensued. I felt edgy (in not the cool way) and resistant to a spirit of rest, enjoyment, peace... It was a weird day.

After a day like this its pretty typical of me to linger in my memories of all my previous failings and short comings. I tend to obsess and play over and over in my head the ways in which I did not succeed in connecting with others and it normally puts me in a vicious cycle which is unproductive and not 'other' or God honoring. But Sunday morning when I woke up there was a gift waiting for me. The gift was a fresh perspective and the invitation to release the previous day and to start fresh this new day, given to me by God. I heard God's still, small voice prodding me to receive this new day with delight, anticipation and hope and somehow I felt the freedom to walk through that door and approach the day with the knowledge that I was forgiven.

Sunday was our prayer and worship service at Quest. It couldn't have come at a better time for me. I desperately was in need of a space to breathe in God's freshness, his Spirit, as we observed Pentecost Sunday. I needed the time to be renewed in my faith, knowing that God would sustain my broken foundation and tear down all the pillars I had been putting so much of my trust in. A new day-- a gift-- every day is new. Praise be to God, that when we fail we are not banished but we find the invitation still extended. And even today I still have these words ringing in my ears, "Be still, be still and know that I am God".