Apologies for not posting til now... but I will say it's nice to know that many of you share my love of Mr. Williams.
I came home last night exhausted and headachey, and had to wake up at 5 am for a missional community training with Emmaus. I must love this church or something, because nothing gets me out of bed that early. And it didn't, technically; I hit snooze for 20 minutes, and then sat on the edge of my bed utterly motionless for another ten. That's my typical morning routine, but it's so much more painful when it's still dark out.
As sleepy as I was, and as much as I yawned, I enjoyed the time, as I always do. One of the things I love about it was evidenced at one point when two members of the group, one of whom is the pastor, had a disagreement. The details aren't reallly important, but here's what I loved about it. It was allowed. It was discussed and not ignored, it was promised that it would be discussed more soon between the two people who disagreed, and then it was put aside for the moment. No arguing, no disrespect, no deciding that the person who was not the pastor should just shut up and take the pastor's word as the only view. This is so rare in so many churches and faith communities, and it made my heart for Emmaus grow that much more.
The only other thing of note to happen since I was here last is I got to hang out with Eric for the first time in what felt like forever. When he got back from his vacation, I texted him and said, "I am inviting myself over to hang out Wednesday or Thursday, you pick."
As soon as I sent it, I regretted it. I have this complex that I have been fighting against for the last few years... I don't tend to be the inviter, organizer, etc. of any social events, be they parties or general coffee hellos, because my stupid brain tells me that people will come hang out more out of guilt and duty than real desire. So, says Heather's stupid brain, if you wait to be invited, they obviously really want to see you.
Stupid, right? But if inviting people out doesn't happen, you can imagine the impact inviting myself into somebody else's house, even a good friend's, would have on my neuroses. So then I got this text from Eric yesterday: "You should invite yourself over tonight around seven. We can have a little wine and order a pizza and watch Arrested Development."
And my whole life was better. Friends are great.
Before I left his house, I grabbed a couple of his books (Love in the Time of Cholera and Franny and Zooey, if you feel like keeping track), complained that he hadn't given me mine back, and got a lesson in How to Hold a Book when I flipped through Franny...
We're readers, and we're dorks. This is what we do. The conversation went like this:
E: You're holding it wrong.
H: (pause) What?
E: You're bending it.
H: (looks at book, then the weirdo on the couch) It's a book.
E: Yeah, but you're gonna bend the spine.
H: It's a book. (My power in debate is unmatched, clearly.)
E: Yeah, but it's old. and the pages will fall out.
H: Eric, it's a book. (You're in awe, I know.)
E: Here, gimme it.
H: Yeah, please, show me what I am doing so horribly wrong. How else do you hold a book?
E: (holds the book open, like a 'v') Like this.
H: That is TOTALLY what I did.
E: Nuh-uh, you went like this: (he bends the book back dramatically, making it look like an 'm')
H: Fine, keep it then, if you're so sure I'm gonna ruin it. (Maturity is my best feature.)
E: You can read it--just don't kill it.
H: (rolls her eyes)
For the record, I have now gotten the book home, and have decided it is, in fact, very old, and the pages may, in fact, fall out. So I'm going to go read it very, very carefully. I promise.