Longhorn Steak House has this awesome salad on the menu called a Grilled Chicken Winter Brie.  It’s made of “winter field greens tossed in a blackberry vinaigrette with warm brie bites, dried cherries, red onion and mandarin oranges.”  Oh Baby.

It’s March, everybody I know is eating salads, and I am obsessed with this one.  I’ve had it three times at three different lunches in the past two weeks.

The catch is, there is no way this is a light salad…it just can’t be.  And some lunches, rich like drizzled blackberry vinaigrette, are pretty heavy, too.  Thank God for warm brie bites…little nuggets of comfort food that they are.

We dive in, and sometimes when you dive in you dive in deep and you realize that life isn’t a bowl of brie bites at all.  In fact, sometimes life just bites.   There are not always quick and easy answers.  My friends around the table do not have it figured out any better than I do, and  sometimes we find ourselves at a pretty messy table.

The good news is…the best, most nourishing meals happen at the messy tables.

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Matt 9:10-13)

There are days when simply finding a parking spot is an adventure.  Navigating traffic and spring snow to pick up a pizza feels like an accomplishment.  Showing up with something to say feels like a miracle.

There are days.

I am participating in something called The Ultimate Adventure – a 50-Day experience of scripture, serving and celebration.  The Ultimate Adventure days are those kind of days. Days when you drive down the same streets but find they look different.  Days when your internal navigation system recalculates, when a meal is more than the food on the table, and dinner conversation can actually change the world.  It really really can.

Tonight we gathered for our City Group from many different directions, and as we shared our stories it became abundantly clear how we are each shaped by our history, our culture, our context.  We are as different from each other as different can be.  Raised in the city, raised in the country, raised on the streets, raised by a pastor, raised a lot of H#%*!  We each have a story to tell.  What brings it all together?  Warm Venice on Vine cheese and pepperoni,  and a plateful of longing and hope and love.

Today I celebrate relationships.  Because you have allowed me a glimpse into your world, mine is forever changed.

Join the adventure – theultimateadventure.org

“Here was neither peace, nor rest, nor a moment’s safety. All was confusion and action, and every moment life and limb were in peril. There was imperative need to be constantly alert, for these dogs and men were not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no law but the law of club and fang.” -Jack London, The Call of the Wild.

I picked up this quote the other day from my son, and then I picked up the book.  What better read during this winter of record snows than The Call of the Wild?  I thought I could escape into the land of sled dogs and Alaskan wilderness.  Instead, I found the wilderness in which I live.

It’s everywhere, isn’t it?  The violence in our nature that turns us against each other.  We posture and position for power, sex, politics, territory, money, recognition, respect…we are…driven.  The dogs step into the harness with pride, and toil against bitter cold in treacherous conditions to haul the load for miles.

Yep.  I’ve had those days.

The wilderness calls.  It’s a call that echoes through the routine of work, and family, and play.  It’s a call that echoes through time.  It may be a cautious sound, like footsteps in the snow, or it may sound like a brutal wind, or a long, lone howl.

Today is Ash Wednesday, and today comes the invitation to be led by the spirit into the wilderness.  Will you follow?

There is something about a cardboard box that just screams potential.  It doesn’t matter if it’s empty or full, taped up or open, coming or going.  A cardboard box is a sign of change.

All around me lately, people are either packing or unpacking.  Sometimes it’s right, a natural and correct progression of things, and sometimes the reasons are a little… well…dented.  But either way, there are boxes everywhere.  And if you look just beyond the boxes, what you might see is potential…a wide open future just waiting to begin.

The trouble with all those cardboard boxes is they can very quickly become cardboard fences.  There is something in our nature that doesn’t handle unlimited potential very well.  When change brings a glimpse of the vast universe, something makes us count the stars rather than simply look in awe.

Next thing you know, all those boxes lying around obscure the view.  And the unlimted potential of an unbroken horizon becomes instead a mess of plastic baggies filled with extra screws, unfinished plans in foreign languages, and used up packing tape.

If you are reading this and you are packing, think carefully about what you bring with you.  Some things are better left behind.

If you are reading this and you are unpacking, bring it! Break out and run wildly into the unlimited potential of  your next adventure.

If you are reading this and you are my husband, please know that all that stuff stacked up around the living room is temporary, and it’s creativity.  What you are witnessing is a potential masterpiece in the making.

Beyond the boxes, the future is waiting.