My family can no longer be considered middle class.
I remember my dad saying years ago: Everybody's got their problems. If it's not money, it's something else. Death, illness, prodigal children.
It's hard watching my parents. I've heard finances is the number one cause of divorce. Although they are committed to their marriage, it is always strained with the rise and fall of the economy. It's hard seeing their faces as they explain the situation to us year after year. "With our income down, we can't really afford to buy many gifts for Christmas this year..." It's always the same. We never care! We love the traditions, the family time, the games, the tree. Nobody cares what we get or don't get for the holidays.
Yet, I realized something coming home for Christmas this year: We have a LOT.
We have a whole heck of a lot! We may not be able to buy things much anymore, and we may be struggling with having to live in a cold, dark house in the wintertime, but overall we have an amazing home. My mother does such a fine job of decorating for each holiday, making it cozy. We have a nice TV, even if it isn't huge and modern. We have a computer, allbeit soon obsolete. We have way more than enough. And I realized, if we really do get terribly desparate, there is a lot we can give away and still have plenty. We'll be just fine.
I've also realized this Christmas that we are surrounded by people who love and help. We were given money to make ends meet in the last month of the year by a loving Grandparent. And when my dad was laid off from IBM when I was in eighth grade, now years ago, our church walked along side us, raising some support for us until we figured out another plan.
Even if we had nothing, people would not let us live on the streets. We will be cared for. And year after year, somehow, God provides for our ends to be met.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Jesus, Immanuel, Savior, God With Us
I was brought to tears in church today.
It's her last Christmas with us.
I've never seen such beautiful worship.
She closes her eyes, barely able to mouth the words, in deep adoration.
He opens his mouth to sing and a yawn finds its way out.
She raises her hands the highest of all in the congregation this day, fisting the air with strength.
He sinks into his seat, slouching, kicking his feet up onto the top of the seat infront.
It hurts her to stand up so long, pain begins to show itself in her face. Eventually, she must sit down.
His mother pulls on his shirt, forcing him to his feet.
He doesn't know.
The craziest thing is that she was smiling. She's joyful. Excited! She can hear the angels, taste the Savior. She's ready.
Maybe Jesus comes for us when we're ready. Like Andy. Like this bald, weak little lady.
Her husband, knowing her days are numbered, is singing "God with us." God with us.
How do you say goodbye to someone you love?
Lord, bless us who are broken this holiday season.
It's her last Christmas with us.
I've never seen such beautiful worship.
She closes her eyes, barely able to mouth the words, in deep adoration.
He opens his mouth to sing and a yawn finds its way out.
She raises her hands the highest of all in the congregation this day, fisting the air with strength.
He sinks into his seat, slouching, kicking his feet up onto the top of the seat infront.
It hurts her to stand up so long, pain begins to show itself in her face. Eventually, she must sit down.
His mother pulls on his shirt, forcing him to his feet.
He doesn't know.
The craziest thing is that she was smiling. She's joyful. Excited! She can hear the angels, taste the Savior. She's ready.
Maybe Jesus comes for us when we're ready. Like Andy. Like this bald, weak little lady.
Her husband, knowing her days are numbered, is singing "God with us." God with us.
How do you say goodbye to someone you love?
Lord, bless us who are broken this holiday season.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
"You Would"
Cops.
October 26th - 2am:
"Turn on 8th or 9th?"
"8th...right here! right here!"
*Whizzes the corner*
Few minutes pass.
"What the heck is that stupid guy doing behind me?! Get off my butt!"
*Lights Flash*
"O.m.g. What did I do??!! O.m.g."
"I was going to make a joke about it being a cop, but then I thought, 'oh wait...'"
*Pulls over slightly, but is inexperienced with pulling over for cops since I drive like a FREAKING GRANDMA. I may not know right and left, but I don't rush speeds!*
*Realizes that I'm still slightly blocking the road and decides to pull up even further and off to the side more*
*Cop walking up to the car freaks out that I moved. Says: "Why don't you put the car in park, there."
"It is!"
"Oh? Ok."
"Where you headed?"
"I was just dropping her off at her house a block or so down. We were at my house." (Normal people are out partying, drinking, having fun on a Saturday night. Us? No. Studying. Studying till 2am and being the ones pulled over by cops. Injustice.)
"What'd I do wrong...?" (asks innocently in the sweetest voice muster-up-able)
"Well...we'll talk about that after I get down some information."
Name.
Birthday.
Place of Residence.
The whole routine.
"I'm sorry I didn't grab my license...I was just driving a minute to go a couple blocks to take her home."
Vehicle registration?
*Digs through car cubby. "Uummm....is this it??" "Nope..." "Hmm...oh, here!"
*Pulls up an expired in 2002 vehicle registration card. (I never before understood what the heck those stupid cards were for anyway that my dad would always hand me every couple of months. I probably have a stash of them somewhere. But I never bothered to take note of them. Maybe they are all in vehicle registraton trash heaven.
He says, "Ok. I'm going to go look this up. The reason I pulled you over tonight is because you didn't signal your turns." "I didn't??" "You for sure didn't signal onto 8th street, and I just saw out of the corner of my eye that it didn't look like you signaled to turn onto ____" (some street, I'll never know. I still don't know any of the street names in Rochester and I've lived there all my life). "Oooh! You know what? I bet that was because we were debating whether to turn onto 8th or 9th street..." "Ok."
*Leaves for car.
*Comes back. Verbal warning. Next time bring my license. Get my vehicle registration card updated in the cubby. Got it. Thank-you sir.
Tears in eyes, first cop experience story on record.
October 27 - 5pm:
Tells dad cop story. Dad decides he will now wait until daughter comes home on breaks to put the updated vehicle reg. card in her cubby for her.
Daughter is definitely a daddy's girl.
October 30 - 12pm:
Heading to the U for Halloween glories.
Tells male friend cop story from the other day.
Says, "Don't worry, if we get pulled over, I'll ward them away with my charm."
Friend speeds.
Friend is pulled over.
Friend gets ticket.
"I guess the batting of eyes doesn't work if you look like my boyfriend..."
December 10th - 10pm:
"Is he following me??"
"Uhh...I don't know. Pull to the side a little. (pause) ...Yep."
"What the heck! I was going 18 in a 30!!! I ran no stop signs or stop lights. I drive like a freaking grandma and this time I know I didn't do anything wrong!"
(Third time in only a few months...I no longer fear cop lights. I may drive like a girl, but a slow one. I don't do much wrong. I'm a good conservative church girl. And most of all, I know they always let me off the hook ;) By now, its all too familiar to even freak out in the slightest. heh. heh.)
Rolls down window.
"I'm pulling you over because you don't have your lights on."
A surprised, "Oh! Whoops" * click. click. *
(In WI they actually tell you what you did wrong right away. Stupid Winonian cops making me fear for my life and taking all my records before he tells me I simply didn't blinker...LAME).
"Do you have your license with you?"
Makes really sad pity-me-I'm-cute face: "I dooon't... I didn't grab my puuurse..." (holding out vocal tones for sad, dramatic pity effect. I used that same excuse last time, but really, i never have my liscence. I don't even know where it is. I don't even know how to spell it -- one of those dumb words that I'll never know how to spell -- everyone has their own dumb anti-spell word. we should remove them from the dictionary. name them something cool. like Ted.) Also, it bugs me that periods go on the outside of parentasis ). Because when you want to be a woman and make a strong point with a strong ending period like fine. jerk. It doesn't work if it gets interrupted by a soft, warm, parenthasis. jerk facee). WAY not as cool.
As I was saying.
The excuse didn't work as well this time. He asked my address. I was like "uhhhh. crap. different state. what do I say? do I lie?" I was hoping Marsha would pick up on it and cover for me with "our" address, buuuuut she explained she was the one who lived in this city, state. I had to explain I was from Winona, MN. A road trip away without a license. And of course I don't actually know my house address here. Why would I? People don't send mail...there's facebook!! Cops should work via facebook too. Bumper Sticker: You're being charged $200 for speeding! Testify in Court on Monday if you'd like to! Have a great day! *Poke!*"
I finally gave Sheehan Hall's address from last year because it was the only one I remembered. (So I lied about my address anyway and didn't get any benefit from it! lame. ). <--p.s. that's my new solution to the parenthasis problem. I also can't spell parenthasis. I was going to go look it up on dictionary.com so the blog post would seem smarter, as I am an ENGLISH TEACHER in a few more months...BUT! Nope. I got lazy. Hey, I just finished 19 credits of finals in three days. Give me a break. I shouldn't be able to spell 'is' after this week. Since I can't spell parenthasis, I will use it incorrectly a few more times. Just for fun.
Parenthasis.
By now, if I would have looked it up and typed it all these times...I would have memorized it already.
As I was saying.
He takes all my information, including my address, which I didn't remember, my name, which I remembered and could spell correctly, and my birthdate.
I thought of a semi-decent excuse...that I didn't have my 21-license yet and only had the yellow folded and crumpled piece of "its coming in the mail soon!" documentation. But! He didn't need the excuse. Because, once again, I was cute. Battering eyelashes work every time....(unless you're with a man in the car, then they don't care. Word of advice to the ladies).
In Wisconsin they have to give you a piece of written notice, according to Dustin. So I got my "warning" slip and he started walking away and I said..."Do I have to do anything with this?" "Nope. You can throw it away if you want to."
Throw it away!? This priceless moment, lost forever in the trash!? No way, Jose! I'ma framin' it! Then maybe I'll remember to signal at stop signs, turn my lights on at night, and take my license.......................................................................eh, but probably not.
Now I'm more convinced than ever that one doesn't actually ever need a license or vehicle registration...they just look it up on their little cop-radar-screen, see you're fine and you're cute, and you're off again!
Lesson (un)learned.
December 10th - 10:30pm:
Tells dad cop story. Dad says, "Good thing I just put the vehicle registration card in there for you so this time you had a current one." Daughter says, "Well, actually! He didn't ask for that this time. But I would have had it, you're right. Thank-you, daddy!"
Dad warns that in an old fashioned southern state, daughter could be thrown in jail for a week by a county sherrif for not having a license on hand and driving. Maybe it's safer for women. Daughter agrees to try harder in future and maybe take bff's advice to just leave it in the car permanently.
Daughter is definitely a youngest child.
October 26th - 2am:
"Turn on 8th or 9th?"
"8th...right here! right here!"
*Whizzes the corner*
Few minutes pass.
"What the heck is that stupid guy doing behind me?! Get off my butt!"
*Lights Flash*
"O.m.g. What did I do??!! O.m.g."
"I was going to make a joke about it being a cop, but then I thought, 'oh wait...'"
*Pulls over slightly, but is inexperienced with pulling over for cops since I drive like a FREAKING GRANDMA. I may not know right and left, but I don't rush speeds!*
*Realizes that I'm still slightly blocking the road and decides to pull up even further and off to the side more*
*Cop walking up to the car freaks out that I moved. Says: "Why don't you put the car in park, there."
"It is!"
"Oh? Ok."
"Where you headed?"
"I was just dropping her off at her house a block or so down. We were at my house." (Normal people are out partying, drinking, having fun on a Saturday night. Us? No. Studying. Studying till 2am and being the ones pulled over by cops. Injustice.)
"What'd I do wrong...?" (asks innocently in the sweetest voice muster-up-able)
"Well...we'll talk about that after I get down some information."
Name.
Birthday.
Place of Residence.
The whole routine.
"I'm sorry I didn't grab my license...I was just driving a minute to go a couple blocks to take her home."
Vehicle registration?
*Digs through car cubby. "Uummm....is this it??" "Nope..." "Hmm...oh, here!"
*Pulls up an expired in 2002 vehicle registration card. (I never before understood what the heck those stupid cards were for anyway that my dad would always hand me every couple of months. I probably have a stash of them somewhere. But I never bothered to take note of them. Maybe they are all in vehicle registraton trash heaven.
He says, "Ok. I'm going to go look this up. The reason I pulled you over tonight is because you didn't signal your turns." "I didn't??" "You for sure didn't signal onto 8th street, and I just saw out of the corner of my eye that it didn't look like you signaled to turn onto ____" (some street, I'll never know. I still don't know any of the street names in Rochester and I've lived there all my life). "Oooh! You know what? I bet that was because we were debating whether to turn onto 8th or 9th street..." "Ok."
*Leaves for car.
*Comes back. Verbal warning. Next time bring my license. Get my vehicle registration card updated in the cubby. Got it. Thank-you sir.
Tears in eyes, first cop experience story on record.
October 27 - 5pm:
Tells dad cop story. Dad decides he will now wait until daughter comes home on breaks to put the updated vehicle reg. card in her cubby for her.
Daughter is definitely a daddy's girl.
October 30 - 12pm:
Heading to the U for Halloween glories.
Tells male friend cop story from the other day.
Says, "Don't worry, if we get pulled over, I'll ward them away with my charm."
Friend speeds.
Friend is pulled over.
Friend gets ticket.
"I guess the batting of eyes doesn't work if you look like my boyfriend..."
December 10th - 10pm:
"Is he following me??"
"Uhh...I don't know. Pull to the side a little. (pause) ...Yep."
"What the heck! I was going 18 in a 30!!! I ran no stop signs or stop lights. I drive like a freaking grandma and this time I know I didn't do anything wrong!"
(Third time in only a few months...I no longer fear cop lights. I may drive like a girl, but a slow one. I don't do much wrong. I'm a good conservative church girl. And most of all, I know they always let me off the hook ;) By now, its all too familiar to even freak out in the slightest. heh. heh.)
Rolls down window.
"I'm pulling you over because you don't have your lights on."
A surprised, "Oh! Whoops" * click. click. *
(In WI they actually tell you what you did wrong right away. Stupid Winonian cops making me fear for my life and taking all my records before he tells me I simply didn't blinker...LAME).
"Do you have your license with you?"
Makes really sad pity-me-I'm-cute face: "I dooon't... I didn't grab my puuurse..." (holding out vocal tones for sad, dramatic pity effect. I used that same excuse last time, but really, i never have my liscence. I don't even know where it is. I don't even know how to spell it -- one of those dumb words that I'll never know how to spell -- everyone has their own dumb anti-spell word. we should remove them from the dictionary. name them something cool. like Ted.) Also, it bugs me that periods go on the outside of parentasis ). Because when you want to be a woman and make a strong point with a strong ending period like fine. jerk. It doesn't work if it gets interrupted by a soft, warm, parenthasis. jerk facee). WAY not as cool.
As I was saying.
The excuse didn't work as well this time. He asked my address. I was like "uhhhh. crap. different state. what do I say? do I lie?" I was hoping Marsha would pick up on it and cover for me with "our" address, buuuuut she explained she was the one who lived in this city, state. I had to explain I was from Winona, MN. A road trip away without a license. And of course I don't actually know my house address here. Why would I? People don't send mail...there's facebook!! Cops should work via facebook too. Bumper Sticker: You're being charged $200 for speeding! Testify in Court on Monday if you'd like to! Have a great day! *Poke!*"
I finally gave Sheehan Hall's address from last year because it was the only one I remembered. (So I lied about my address anyway and didn't get any benefit from it! lame. ). <--p.s. that's my new solution to the parenthasis problem. I also can't spell parenthasis. I was going to go look it up on dictionary.com so the blog post would seem smarter, as I am an ENGLISH TEACHER in a few more months...BUT! Nope. I got lazy. Hey, I just finished 19 credits of finals in three days. Give me a break. I shouldn't be able to spell 'is' after this week. Since I can't spell parenthasis, I will use it incorrectly a few more times. Just for fun.
Parenthasis.
By now, if I would have looked it up and typed it all these times...I would have memorized it already.
As I was saying.
He takes all my information, including my address, which I didn't remember, my name, which I remembered and could spell correctly, and my birthdate.
I thought of a semi-decent excuse...that I didn't have my 21-license yet and only had the yellow folded and crumpled piece of "its coming in the mail soon!" documentation. But! He didn't need the excuse. Because, once again, I was cute. Battering eyelashes work every time....(unless you're with a man in the car, then they don't care. Word of advice to the ladies).
In Wisconsin they have to give you a piece of written notice, according to Dustin. So I got my "warning" slip and he started walking away and I said..."Do I have to do anything with this?" "Nope. You can throw it away if you want to."
Throw it away!? This priceless moment, lost forever in the trash!? No way, Jose! I'ma framin' it! Then maybe I'll remember to signal at stop signs, turn my lights on at night, and take my license.......................................................................eh, but probably not.
Now I'm more convinced than ever that one doesn't actually ever need a license or vehicle registration...they just look it up on their little cop-radar-screen, see you're fine and you're cute, and you're off again!
Lesson (un)learned.
December 10th - 10:30pm:
Tells dad cop story. Dad says, "Good thing I just put the vehicle registration card in there for you so this time you had a current one." Daughter says, "Well, actually! He didn't ask for that this time. But I would have had it, you're right. Thank-you, daddy!"
Dad warns that in an old fashioned southern state, daughter could be thrown in jail for a week by a county sherrif for not having a license on hand and driving. Maybe it's safer for women. Daughter agrees to try harder in future and maybe take bff's advice to just leave it in the car permanently.
Daughter is definitely a youngest child.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
John 15:13 changed my life
This story is not my own. But I can no longer carry it as a secret.
I don't understand.
My brother's voice ringing through the speakers, "We may be worlds apart, but that can't stop my heart from wishing I was there. The Earth is not my home, only a place to roam until my soul is free."
Tears streaming down my face.
Amanda's status reading, "John 15:13 changed my life."
I'm heaven bound, my glory's found inside of you.
We can't ask why. You're God and we established that a long time ago.
Come meet me here.
I don't understand.
My brother's voice ringing through the speakers, "We may be worlds apart, but that can't stop my heart from wishing I was there. The Earth is not my home, only a place to roam until my soul is free."
Tears streaming down my face.
Amanda's status reading, "John 15:13 changed my life."
I'm heaven bound, my glory's found inside of you.
We can't ask why. You're God and we established that a long time ago.
Come meet me here.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Despair
I’ve grown up living to the sound of sirens. I have grown to hate them, fear them. I stop whatever I am doing and in a moment of pause, cringe and close my eyes. I hear them when I am falling off into sleep. I hear them when I am doing homework, making dinner, watching TV…I hate that sound. And the eerie silence that comes after.
That’s somebody’s child. Somebody’s lover.
Lord, don’t leave us.
That’s somebody’s child. Somebody’s lover.
Lord, don’t leave us.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Future glories for English majors?
I hope my ability to write solid papers does not totally die out in the next semester when we are done with college. (I say this on behalf of everyone, not pridefully endorsing my exceptional writing talent and aptitude—no. We’re English majors. We write fifteen page papers weekly. You guys know what I’m talking about, and I say this for all of you. What if we get too busy sucked into writing lesson plans in the future that we forget how to write in a variety of forms?) I set aside all of this weekend to crank out my final Comparative Literature paper, and it took me like…a couple hours. Solid transitions, solid intro and conclusion, good flow. It’s just because we’re so well practiced. We know what we want to say and we know how to go about it. I remember freshmen year of college how long it took me to write final papers. I would outline them, sit and stare at the wall, skip transitions and go back later to add in the connection points, struggle, struggle, struggle! Or in high school, when you work for an entire month on nothing but a single end-of-the-term research paper. How did it take us that long?!? I’ll probably take a break from education for a while (as a student, that is…) and then head back for a Masters in a couple of years. What if I have forgotten how to write at that point and can’t put together solid work for the masters? This is our first time not being in school for a bajillion years ... most of our lifetime! I hope that we can still be at the peak of where we are at now. I hope this isn’t the finest we have in us and it is all downhill from here. I hope I have time to blog, journal, or write for fun. I hope I pursue publishing a book, doing public speaking, or organizing a drama ministry. I hope this goes beyond getting a paper with our name on it, enabling us a larger job market and more funding.
Let there be more.
Let there be more.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Ramblings of a Lost Soul
I struggle with concepts. The concept of love. The concept of God. The concept of life.
I know just as much about them as anybody else (so if you start trying to explain them to me, I'll just think you're a "know-it-all" and hate you for it) :) ...Hey! Honesty is the best policy.
But I do find it strange that it seems to bug me more than it does anyone else. Why don't I know more. I don't know enough. I don't get it.
I know just as much about them as anybody else (so if you start trying to explain them to me, I'll just think you're a "know-it-all" and hate you for it) :) ...Hey! Honesty is the best policy.
But I do find it strange that it seems to bug me more than it does anyone else. Why don't I know more. I don't know enough. I don't get it.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Chaos, Confusion, and Trust
This is one of those un-artsy moments where I simply want to write something. To reflect. More journal-ist-ic. (Yes, I always choose to do this on the nights when I already planned on needing an allnighter for school-work purposes)...
This past week or so has been one of: "Holy crap. Andy's dead." It starts to fade after a while. Nathan is doing well - has friends, has music, and has the Lord (which is the sole reason one can even make it this far). As we get back into our lives and routines, you forget a lot. You forget how life would be if the accident hadn't happened. You forget the way things were supposed to be. Then there are days, moments, that stop you dead in your tracks. "Andy's not here. He's somewhere...but I can't see him." It's such a surreal feeling - I can't describe it.
I was looking at the moon last night while stopped at the light waiting to get on to the highway from Huff street. So beautiful. So bright. Everytime moments like that happen, I just smile and realize...it's OK. We live, we die. Some just pass quicker than others. I don't think he's really 'gone,' either. We can't see him...but that's because we're still veiled. He knows. Soon.
Over Thanksgiving I went to my aunt's house and got to spend the day with the extended family, but mostly with Natie. We have an annual tradition of breaking out her dusty four-wheeler for a strole through the fields. For the first year in my entire life, I was not afraid. It was so weird! I've done nothing different this year. Usually I bury my head into Nathan's coat and say, "Go slow! Slow down, Natie! Please don't go so fast!" I want to spend those special moments with him, but I'm t.e.r.r.i.f.i.e.d. and can only handle it for a few loops. I have to bite my lip and hold my breath so that I don't make it entirely miserable for him. (But he still wants to take me for a ride every year...so apparently I don't irritate him too bad) ;) This year, it was different. Maybe it's that I've accepted death. The worst that could happen? I'm in pain for a while or cut life on Earth short. That's really not that bad. So I held on tight, only screamed for the first few jumps, and then just let it go. Let go of fear. Let go of control.
(((IT WAS SO FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ...and we ran over a small, newly planted evergreen tree...whoops))).
Control. That's mostly it. I need to control everything. My future. My life. My time. My grades. My self. My faith. Everything.
Last year in my Education sequence, I was told by my cooperating teacher that kids often learn best through chaos. Out of control.
That's true for our faith as well. If everything is neat and tidy, predictable, routine, what do we have? Nothing. Nothing real. I need to be out of control. I need to let go.
I need to not fear anymore.
Lord, take control.
This past week or so has been one of: "Holy crap. Andy's dead." It starts to fade after a while. Nathan is doing well - has friends, has music, and has the Lord (which is the sole reason one can even make it this far). As we get back into our lives and routines, you forget a lot. You forget how life would be if the accident hadn't happened. You forget the way things were supposed to be. Then there are days, moments, that stop you dead in your tracks. "Andy's not here. He's somewhere...but I can't see him." It's such a surreal feeling - I can't describe it.
I was looking at the moon last night while stopped at the light waiting to get on to the highway from Huff street. So beautiful. So bright. Everytime moments like that happen, I just smile and realize...it's OK. We live, we die. Some just pass quicker than others. I don't think he's really 'gone,' either. We can't see him...but that's because we're still veiled. He knows. Soon.
Over Thanksgiving I went to my aunt's house and got to spend the day with the extended family, but mostly with Natie. We have an annual tradition of breaking out her dusty four-wheeler for a strole through the fields. For the first year in my entire life, I was not afraid. It was so weird! I've done nothing different this year. Usually I bury my head into Nathan's coat and say, "Go slow! Slow down, Natie! Please don't go so fast!" I want to spend those special moments with him, but I'm t.e.r.r.i.f.i.e.d. and can only handle it for a few loops. I have to bite my lip and hold my breath so that I don't make it entirely miserable for him. (But he still wants to take me for a ride every year...so apparently I don't irritate him too bad) ;) This year, it was different. Maybe it's that I've accepted death. The worst that could happen? I'm in pain for a while or cut life on Earth short. That's really not that bad. So I held on tight, only screamed for the first few jumps, and then just let it go. Let go of fear. Let go of control.
(((IT WAS SO FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ...and we ran over a small, newly planted evergreen tree...whoops))).
Control. That's mostly it. I need to control everything. My future. My life. My time. My grades. My self. My faith. Everything.
Last year in my Education sequence, I was told by my cooperating teacher that kids often learn best through chaos. Out of control.
That's true for our faith as well. If everything is neat and tidy, predictable, routine, what do we have? Nothing. Nothing real. I need to be out of control. I need to let go.
I need to not fear anymore.
Lord, take control.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Independence
Today I killed a spider that crept along the window above while I was washing dishes. My method? Take a dirty cup full of steaming hot water and drown the sucker. I decided I've finally reached the pinnacle of independence when I can kill my own creepy crawlers. (Although it is nicer when Chadley's home to do it for me...) ;)
Saturday, November 22, 2008
I Am
November 21st:
Crazy the changes we make in one year. I look back to where I was at last year: extatic, but not yet whole. Though much is taken, much abides. Thank-you for taking him away. I never imagined I'd actully reach a point of thanking God for this. I'm grateful. I love you. I trust you. You are good.
Crazy the changes we make in one year. I look back to where I was at last year: extatic, but not yet whole. Though much is taken, much abides. Thank-you for taking him away. I never imagined I'd actully reach a point of thanking God for this. I'm grateful. I love you. I trust you. You are good.
Friday, October 31, 2008
what are we living for
This week I skipped classes. This week I laughed out loud during a quiz consisting of literature I had not read. This week I slept long and hard.
A fellow student asks, “What’s happening to you?”
The sound of settling.
A fellow student asks, “What’s happening to you?”
The sound of settling.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Dreaming
Small town
Sun on the face, the arms
Fiesty
Influencer
Surrounded
Purposed
Traveler
Well
Beauty
Rest
Sun on the face, the arms
Fiesty
Influencer
Surrounded
Purposed
Traveler
Well
Beauty
Rest
Monday, October 20, 2008
Ideas for my Future are Unending...
Someday I want to start a small group where every week members bring in a song and talk about what it means to them. Music is so powerful. I always want to post lyrics here (practically to every song...) but it doesn't mean the same thing without hearing it for yourself. Music inspires me, challenges me, and affects my spirits. And I always want to share it with everyone around me.
Yes.
Yes.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Mating.
So. Your grandma sends you the most beautiful letter on how having high standards for your future mate makes it easier to know who is "the one" when he comes around. You think, "What the heck. I'll just raise 'em up then." You decide your future mate must be a musician. You decide your future mate must play in the band Reel Big Fish. Your future mate's dang hot. You definitely know when your future mate comes around.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Broken Up Stream of Consciousness
Why is it so easy to find beauty in every single other woman but yourself?
I was analyzing this the other day, looking around the room full of ladies (not in the comparison-type way of looking, although I do have days where that is a reality). I paused for a moment on each and every individual, and in each girl I found genuine beauty. Now, there were girls who obviously had their hair done that day and it looked super cute, or someone did their make-up job extremely well that morning…things such as that (more societally beautiful)…but in every girl, make-upped or not, there was something…a glow, perhaps.
Glow connotes happiness and charm, not the diction I’m searching for…because even the broken ones, the ones who haven’t felt ‘glowing’ for years…the guarded and hidden ones…it was something in their spirit (a divine touch?).
This type of beauty you could not compare. I could not say one girl had it more than another. Everybody had it all the same, although in each girl it was completely unique and altogether different.
(I wish I could take you into my head and into that moment so you could see for yourself what I mean without me having to attempt to describe it for you).
I looked at one girl. “She’s beautiful,” I thought. I looked at the next girl, “She’s beautiful,” I thought. And so continued around the room.
It occurred to me that maybe if I was able to step outside of my body and see myself across the room or from afar, to observe myself like I had done the others, I’d find it in myself too. Maybe we can’t see it when we stand two feet in front of a mirror nit-picking every little detail! But maybe if we took a step back we’d look at ourselves and think, “She’s beautiful,” too.
It’s such a burden to be a woman. Every day is different – a different emotion towards your body, your beauty, and what you have to offer the world. Some days you just rock it. Other days you hope you survive the entire day dodging every other person alive. Most of the time it’s probably somewhere in the middle. There’s pressure coming at us from all sides—to be enough, to look enough, to feel enough.
I think the problem is both that we let Satan get at us all the time, and that we simply care too much. There is so much freedom in accepting that God gave women beauty, and that you have it. No hiding. No pressure. No doubt. No cover-ups. Just be.
I guess I write such things for two reasons.
One. Know that you are beautiful. You are absolutely beautiful, and everyone around you does see it (even when you don’t…even if you never seem to). This is not the surface, “Oh, everyone’s beautiful in their own way, (even the plain ones)!” type of cliché. I genuinely saw, felt even, a powerful beauty.
Two. What an honor it is to be ‘woman.’ What a label! We get to demonstrate the beauty of God, the beauty of the creator of the universe, every day! It’s actually quite the responsibility, which is probably why it often feels like a burden. But all we have to do…is be!
I haven’t read the book Captivating for a good number of years now, but I always remember the chapter that talks about how Eve (woman) was the crown of creation. In taking the Bible’s creation passage literally (suppress the hot topic debate with me for a moment), God continues to create and create, and it grows and grows into this beautiful creation, and we, ladies, are the climax!
Beauty is the essence of a woman. Beauty is the essence of God.
Oh, P.S. I feel really sorry for all the boys in this world for whom it is not socially acceptable to wear skirts every nice warm day. Poor fella’s are all missing out.
I was analyzing this the other day, looking around the room full of ladies (not in the comparison-type way of looking, although I do have days where that is a reality). I paused for a moment on each and every individual, and in each girl I found genuine beauty. Now, there were girls who obviously had their hair done that day and it looked super cute, or someone did their make-up job extremely well that morning…things such as that (more societally beautiful)…but in every girl, make-upped or not, there was something…a glow, perhaps.
Glow connotes happiness and charm, not the diction I’m searching for…because even the broken ones, the ones who haven’t felt ‘glowing’ for years…the guarded and hidden ones…it was something in their spirit (a divine touch?).
This type of beauty you could not compare. I could not say one girl had it more than another. Everybody had it all the same, although in each girl it was completely unique and altogether different.
(I wish I could take you into my head and into that moment so you could see for yourself what I mean without me having to attempt to describe it for you).
I looked at one girl. “She’s beautiful,” I thought. I looked at the next girl, “She’s beautiful,” I thought. And so continued around the room.
It occurred to me that maybe if I was able to step outside of my body and see myself across the room or from afar, to observe myself like I had done the others, I’d find it in myself too. Maybe we can’t see it when we stand two feet in front of a mirror nit-picking every little detail! But maybe if we took a step back we’d look at ourselves and think, “She’s beautiful,” too.
It’s such a burden to be a woman. Every day is different – a different emotion towards your body, your beauty, and what you have to offer the world. Some days you just rock it. Other days you hope you survive the entire day dodging every other person alive. Most of the time it’s probably somewhere in the middle. There’s pressure coming at us from all sides—to be enough, to look enough, to feel enough.
I think the problem is both that we let Satan get at us all the time, and that we simply care too much. There is so much freedom in accepting that God gave women beauty, and that you have it. No hiding. No pressure. No doubt. No cover-ups. Just be.
I guess I write such things for two reasons.
One. Know that you are beautiful. You are absolutely beautiful, and everyone around you does see it (even when you don’t…even if you never seem to). This is not the surface, “Oh, everyone’s beautiful in their own way, (even the plain ones)!” type of cliché. I genuinely saw, felt even, a powerful beauty.
Two. What an honor it is to be ‘woman.’ What a label! We get to demonstrate the beauty of God, the beauty of the creator of the universe, every day! It’s actually quite the responsibility, which is probably why it often feels like a burden. But all we have to do…is be!
I haven’t read the book Captivating for a good number of years now, but I always remember the chapter that talks about how Eve (woman) was the crown of creation. In taking the Bible’s creation passage literally (suppress the hot topic debate with me for a moment), God continues to create and create, and it grows and grows into this beautiful creation, and we, ladies, are the climax!
Beauty is the essence of a woman. Beauty is the essence of God.
Oh, P.S. I feel really sorry for all the boys in this world for whom it is not socially acceptable to wear skirts every nice warm day. Poor fella’s are all missing out.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
James 1:2
Oh my dear goodness. will I ever be learning patience this year.
(The hindsight will be glorious. Right now it makes my heart ache.)
(The hindsight will be glorious. Right now it makes my heart ache.)
Monday, September 15, 2008
Victory
Death is such a ridiculous concept.
I thought Andy's death would make me able to comfort and encourage those who also experience loss, yet this week when another gal lost someone beloved, I had no words. None at all. I never want to forget Andy. It's a weird thing because you need to heal and move on, yet move on with it always in the back of your head. Because as soon as we forget, then his life and purpose and witness are lost. And people should know. People should know how awesome he was. Andy was an example of Acts 2. Andy loved people, helped people, fed people, tutored people, prayed over people, drove disabled people to sporting events, everything for people. His funeral filled up an entire court at SMSU. The entire basketball team was there, the entire Crusade group was there, the entire church of Marshall was there, it was insane. How did he know so many people? How did he possibly touch that many lives in the short time he had. And most remarkably, why wouldn't God keep him on Earth to touch that amount of lives tenfold?
It makes me wonder if God takes us right when we're ready. Maybe Andy was so ready to be with God, another day on Earth would have been ineffective. There are so many weird, freaky things that happened leading up to it. The way he said, "Now is the perfect time to go." How he looked for the seatbelt but couldn't find it too far tucked into the seats and so gave up the search. The fact that he learned the song "One Day" just in time to sing it for God, unveiled. Just in time for us to sing it, a gym full of hundreds and hundreds of people, trying to grasp the meaning of each word. The fact that in his final seconds, he thought fast enough to take the full extent of the blow and weigh Amanda down in order to save her life.
There hasn't been a Sunday in passing that I've not prayed over and over again, "Take care of him, Lord. Just take care of him for us." We all will strive the rest of our lives to be such a man. Andy got it down just a bit faster than the rest of us. Why waste any more time on Earth, right?
"When this happens--when our perishable earthly bodies have been transformed into heavenly bodies that will never die--then at last the Scriptures will come true: Death is swallowed up in victory." - 1 Corinthians 15:54
I thought Andy's death would make me able to comfort and encourage those who also experience loss, yet this week when another gal lost someone beloved, I had no words. None at all. I never want to forget Andy. It's a weird thing because you need to heal and move on, yet move on with it always in the back of your head. Because as soon as we forget, then his life and purpose and witness are lost. And people should know. People should know how awesome he was. Andy was an example of Acts 2. Andy loved people, helped people, fed people, tutored people, prayed over people, drove disabled people to sporting events, everything for people. His funeral filled up an entire court at SMSU. The entire basketball team was there, the entire Crusade group was there, the entire church of Marshall was there, it was insane. How did he know so many people? How did he possibly touch that many lives in the short time he had. And most remarkably, why wouldn't God keep him on Earth to touch that amount of lives tenfold?
It makes me wonder if God takes us right when we're ready. Maybe Andy was so ready to be with God, another day on Earth would have been ineffective. There are so many weird, freaky things that happened leading up to it. The way he said, "Now is the perfect time to go." How he looked for the seatbelt but couldn't find it too far tucked into the seats and so gave up the search. The fact that he learned the song "One Day" just in time to sing it for God, unveiled. Just in time for us to sing it, a gym full of hundreds and hundreds of people, trying to grasp the meaning of each word. The fact that in his final seconds, he thought fast enough to take the full extent of the blow and weigh Amanda down in order to save her life.
There hasn't been a Sunday in passing that I've not prayed over and over again, "Take care of him, Lord. Just take care of him for us." We all will strive the rest of our lives to be such a man. Andy got it down just a bit faster than the rest of us. Why waste any more time on Earth, right?
"When this happens--when our perishable earthly bodies have been transformed into heavenly bodies that will never die--then at last the Scriptures will come true: Death is swallowed up in victory." - 1 Corinthians 15:54
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Bare
Today I woke up, saw that I was nearly out of milk, and drove to Walmart. I jammed out with window's wide open, "Country boys and girls getting down on the farm!" I parked at Wal-Mart. I opened up my door and began to step outside. *Thud* First foot hits the ground. The ground is cold. The ground is rough and scratchy. The ground is touching my foot. How could I drive all this way and only now realize I forgot to bring shoes! I grumbled the whole way back to retrieve my flip-flops.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Wellspring of Life
So I was thinking today about the verse Proverbs 4:23. “Guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.” Wellspring of life. What does that mean? It’s interesting to me that after a break up one often feels 'like death.' I have heard that times before and felt it myself. I want to die. It hurts. Wellspring of life. Your heart is the wellspring of life. What exactly is the wellspring of life? And what exactly is the heart? When I’m in love or feel feelings of love (not necessarily romantic), I feel alive. I am alive because I have purpose. I matter. I don’t know what’s worse when you get out of a relationship: needing someone, or not having someone to need you.
I was trying to figure out what else makes one feel alive. I feel alive when I’m swinging on the swingset and staring in awe at the glories of God’s creation. The stars. The bluffs. Perfection, mixed with decay and disaster and disorder and uncertainty. Perfection. I feel alive when I’m singing and dancing and worshipping God. And I feel alive when I’m in love. Nay, I should not use the term ‘in love.’ I feel alive when I love.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)