Last night I went to the Avalanche vs. Penguins hockey game and celebrated a Penguin victory (who names their team "Avalanche" and expects to be good? For real?).

Center ice.  

Blue line.  

Cold brews.  

Beards.  

Zamboni. 

 Organ music.  

More beards.  

Shouting.  

Queen.  

Accents.

Even more beards.

Everything about the night was, well, sexy.  Even the fist-fighting that lead to five minutes in the penalty box was exhilarating.  I can't believe it's been three years since I went to a game.

What can I say?  These are the moments I miss my roots.  And smile upon remembering my first, childhood love and kissing him in his hockey pads after he beat our neighboring town rivalry.  Or pretending to be a Mighty Duck with a tennis ball and broom in the driveway on humid, summer afternoons.  Pure nostalgia.

Beloved.

Whenever I read something that "changes my life," I feel responsible to share it with the world.  If you're in need of some revitalization and a reminder of how precious you are, pick up this book.  May these words from Henri J.M. Nouwen's book, Life of the Beloved, encourage your spirit:

"We are the Beloved.  We are intimately loved long before our parents, teachers, spouses, children, and friends loved or wounded us.  That's the truth of our lives.  That's the truth I want you to claim for yourself.  That's the truth spoken by the voice that says, 'You are my Beloved.'  

Listening to that voice with great inner attentiveness, I hear at my center words that say:  'I have called you by name, from the very beginning.  You are mine and I am yours.  You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests.  I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother's womb.  I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace.  I look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with a care more intimate than that of a mother for her child.  I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step.  Wherever you go, I go with you, and wherever you rest, I keep watch.  I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench all your thirst.  I will not hide my face from you.  You know me as your won as I know you as my own.  You belong to me.  I am your father, your mother, your brother, your sister, your lover, and your spouse... yes, even your child... wherever you are I will be.  Nothing will ever separate us.  We are one.'

Every time you listen with great attentiveness to the voice that calls you the Beloved, you will discover within yourself a desire to hear that voice longer and more deeply.  It is like discovering a well in the desert.  Once you have touched wet ground, you want to dig deeper... There may be quite a pile of dry sand in our lives, but the One who desires to quench our thirst will help us remove it." 

Just a Tuesday Morning Thought.

Silly boys.
Silly girls.
That's what we all are.

We spin and twirl as kids on merry-go-rounds,
Holding on for life,
clutching to a certainty slipping away with age.

But we let go bravely
for a few, short seconds,
whispering possibilities and promises.

Dusty Wonderland

Denver is a glowing wonderland.  We had several snowfalls this week, and the city looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

One of my favorite aspects of a Colorado winter is the temperature.  Being from the frozen Midwest, I appreciate the option of going outdoors December through March.  How refreshing even when windy! 

 

When it snows I drive slower and notice the sweetest things.  Check out the sign I saw on the way to church!  I loved it so much, I drove home, grabbed my camera, and returned to get a shot.  This art reminds me of the newer documentary, Exit Through the Gift Shop, although those pieces are more provocative...  Still, so cool!

Check out those mountains.  I picked a great city for relocation.

And a spectacular view of the city with the skyline.

It's Super Bowl Sunday:  I'm hopeful for a Packer victory and prepared with my cheese curds; don't you worry. 

Another new thing in 2011:  reading more poetry.  Especially the books I purchased for my college classes but never finished (waste not, want not?).  Reading poetry inspires poetry.  My final thoughts about the snowy week.

  

Dusting

 (Inspired by evenings like the one pictured above.)

Outside it's dusting.

White's falling around, 

wrapping the earth in soft light.

The streets grow quiet.

The busyness diminishes into a

sweet slowness.

Everything is dusted,

and the city glows.

Tonight's a night for falling in love.

I hear nothing.

Stillness grows in me,

and I feel strength.

You are near,

close and patient-

the change, everything surrounding me.