For the cynics, you may be wondering how I define love. I believe that it is a combination of tenderness and fidelity (to borrow a definition from Jean Vanier). One, without the other, is clearly off balance.

The phones are ringing like crazy. My friend Matt has an analogy (he loves analogies) in which he compares certain circumstances to a hand squeezing a sponge. (You may have heard this before, not all his material is original). Anyhow, the sponge is rinsed, and then you squeeze it, and more junk comes out. Having to answer the phones all day at work definitely squeezes my sponge.

Speaking of work, I have an interview next week for my dream job. Not to put any pressure on myself or anything. If you could pray for me...

I had a very intimate night last night. I came home from work, after what had been a hard day. I layed down for a while, got up, talked to Jordana, and made stir-fried vegetables with tofu. I left the apartment, and was going to my car on my way to small group. I got in the car. I closed the door. And I just started crying and crying. I called Sarah H.

I went to her house.

I love the people in our lives who can know our deepest deeps and our darkest darks and not balk, cower, fear, or fix. They are rare, I know, but I really love that. Not many people can take the feelings that, if oozing welts and gashes was the name of a color, they would be colored that color.

After connecting with Sarah, I went home, took a bath filled with lavendar essential oils, and returned to my room. My room with the red sheets, red lamp, and red silk tapestry on the wall. I love red. I read the Psalm which I have been reading through for the last 2 years (not perpetually silly, just repeatedly). I wrote in my red journal.

In You O Lord I have taken refuge,

let me never be put to shame;

deliver me in Your righteousness...

I will be glad and rejoice in Your love, for You saw my affliction

and knew the anguish of my soul.

You have not handed me over to the enemy,

but have set my feet in a spacious place...

(excerpts from Psalm 31; read the whole thing, it's a goodie).

I will leave you with the phone call of the day:

"MD Imaging Scheduling, this is Tracey." (Lord, how I have grown to cringe at those words)

"Hi." Flat, even tone. "We have a problem." Slight irritation.

wonderful

"I just got back and had the paper from Dr. Peltz to order my exams so I could call you and get that scheduled and figure out what I needed." I need you to read this with a very exasperated sound in your voice; slightly edgy, with a touch of demanding manipulation.

I listened.

"Well I had to run out of the house and I left it sitting on the ottoman and I got back and my little pomeranian had torn it to shreds."

"OK. All you need to do is call your doctor's office and ask them to re-fax it to us." (Still with the perfected 'professional' voice).

"Is there any chance you could do that for me?"

"No." (Flat, even and definite) "We don't do that." But, if you bring in your little dog, we could put her in a scanner, and maybe they could make out the order that way.

And the hang up.

I love that you're reading this.

Kept, Trace

P.S. I have to work until 9:00 tonight. Gasp. Horror. Overtime.

P.P.S. David, if you read this, I want your sister's email address.