Finding yofi

I changed my blog's web address.
Finding Yofi.
Yofi, the Hebrew word for beauty.
Finding beauty.

Finding beauty in that which beauty is easy to see - the mountains and valleys, the oceans and sunsets, the kind people and warm smiles.
Finding beauty in the ugly, in the mundane, in the difficult, and in the trivial.
Finding beauty in whatever happens. No matter what happens.

<><><>

I sat in the Lamb & Flag tonight sipping my water with lemon, a bold contrast to the traditional Oxfordian Friday night.
We went through a mental list of the most controversial topics: abortion, gay marriage, euthanasia, capital punishment - everything you would not discuss at an American bar.

"Really, if you're a mom and you are going to put your kid into foster care, I think it would be better to not have been born at all. That's a terrible life." Despite our last few months together, he was completely unaware of my own past, the harsh words my mother had said of her second pregnancy and the reality of my last couple of years of childhood.

I was caught between my desire to crawl under the table and hide, and my urge to reach over it and slap him in the face.

So I spoke.
"I was fostered for two years. Now I'm at Oxford, so..."

Finding yofi.

<><><>

"Is Mexico pretty?"

My mind heart races back to the place I haven't been to in nearly a year. 

"Yes. Yes, it is" I tell him. I pause, unsure of how to transfer all that I am feeling and envisioning to him, a boy from DC. "But it's not the normal kind of pretty." He stares at me, as if there is some secret, special type of beauty.

And there is.

There's beauty in that red clay and broken glass and the little brown hand that knows nothing and everything about a guerra de narcos. 

There's beauty in the tired muscles and hot sun and sweaty skin and the hair that hasn't been washed since the other side of the border. 

There's beauty in the people of God who live waiting for the Kingdom more than I do, relying on Christ more than I need to, and finding faith in a barren land.

Finding yofi.

<><><>

Mat Kearney is standing on the stage, serenading my heart with a song that speaks right to my soul. 

It's simple and it's cool. There's no pretense; it just cuts deep, speaking what we all think but are afraid to say. 

I am completely glued to the words, the acoustics, the melody, and the gingerly placed allusions to the One I love.  My body, my heart, my mind, my soul - they're all dancing and swinging to the beat, falling in love with the sounds of delight and Truth.

Finding yofi.