Madison: Reflections on the Effect of Being

Hi everyone,

I can't remember the last time I had so much fun at a wedding.

I suppose the fun time had something to do with getting the chance to celebrate the marriage of a great friend to his bride.

Perhaps it was the opportunity to reconnect with college friends, some whom I count as lifelong friends.

And I suppose I had so much fun because I was feeling great: Not only did I have enough energy to withstand the multiple gatherings that weekend, including the wedding itself, but I also had the energy to travel, stay up way past my old-lady bedtime making pillow talk, and complete several hours' worth of schoolwork.

But I think the real reason I had so much fun was determined by, in the words of one of my professors, "the effect of being."

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Six months ago, I'm not sure I would have even tried on the dress I wore at the wedding. For one, it's quite form-fitting and short. And two, it's quite colorful. But things are different now.

After seeing it on the rack, I couldn't help but try the dress on. It's hard to miss, really, but in a good way. Once I put it on in the dressing room, I swayed side to side. I smiled big.

"The dress is named 'Bounce,'" the sales lady told me.

"Even better," I said. "I'll take it."

At the wedding, I felt radiant: sexy, lovely, feminine. I smiled a lot.

I know the magic of being isn't in the dress, nonetheless, it's staying with me for the long haul.

******

While all my friends fled town, I spent an extra day in Madison. Though I would like to say that the "effect of being" was the reason for the extra time spent there, it was really because it was cheaper to fly the day after Labor Day. Fortunately, some friends of the bride and groom's offered to let me stay with them for the night. I was most grateful for the shelter, but more delighted by the home's location being one block from Lake Mendota, Madison's largest lake.

The sun was gentle, as was the lake breeze, so I went. I walked to the nearest park, which I found to be nearly empty. I sat down on a bench a few feet from the muddy bank and watched boats speed by, water skiiers jump waves, and a few people frolic in the shallow waters.

I sat there allowing myself nothing - yet everything - to do. I didn't crack open my Bible. I didn't purge my thoughts onto paper. I wasn't even decompressing - for me a normal response to a long weekend of time spent with people. The only thing I was doing was enjoying the view. I carried no clock with me.

At some point, I moved to a gentle, grassy slope to get a better view and stretch my legs. I sat there gazing upon the beautiful waters, thinking thoughts like how I have always lived near large bodies of water and that I considered moving to this city once. I thought about how I got to be here, right there, next to this Madison lake, sitting on a slope, with no expectation, and nowhere to be - except here.

God must have an incredible imagination, I thought, to do what He has done, in the way He has done it, when He has done it. And He is still doing it.

I began to weep. The thought was overwhelming.

Because He is the One who provides the space for my recovery, who is patient, and who gives me the freedom to say 'yes' or 'no' and isn't even threatened when I dissent. He is the One who creates a beautiful story, a story worth sharing with my grandchildren. He is the One who knows, understands, comforts, loves. He is peace. There is no one else who could possibly create the story in me, through me, what He has already done, what He is doing, and what He will do.

It's worth it to keep turning the page.

A.

A short description of the pictures:
Top: An honest attempt to get the bride and groom, and 19 Northwestern folks, their spouses, and spawn in one photo booth.
Middle top: Marisa, Danielle, Anna, Clarissa
Middle bottom: Another honest attempt except without the bride and groom this time.
Bottom: Just me.