kaylibean

Beautiful Song

2012-02-02T18:47:00.000-08:00

Falling Down by Bebo Norman

Angel's on a subway
She's buried in a magazine
Stuck inside a replay
Of someone else's dream

Prophets made of paper
Don't tell her anything
She wants someone to save her
So she lifts her head and screams,
lifts her head and screams,
lifts her head and screams

"I don't know you
But I love you anyway
I can't see you
But I hope you're here to stay
I don't know you
But I need you here with me
Cuz I'm falling,
Falling...... down"

Now angels on a runway
Looking for a jet plane
To take her to a new day
She won't be back,
won't be back again
And she says,

You're on my side
You're just in time
I'm on my way
knowing you won't mind
But I want you back again

When I'm falling, falling.... down
Cuz I'm falling, falling..... down

:)

Great Expectations

2012-01-23T17:23:00.000-08:00

Dear 2012,

You mark most of my 27th year, one God told me as a children would be kind of a big deal. I fully expect you to deliver. I have the end of my teaching tenure creeping near and many children to whip/scoop/love on til June, take your time and hurry up, if you dont mind ;) Please leave room for much dancing, and please, go easy on me for pete's sake concerning pain (your closest predecessors really threw me a coupla doozies). Carry my brothers on to college and better parenting, and bless my mom as she loses her little one to the Red Stick. Heal my grandma and strengthen my granddad. Bless the other set, too. Get me out west to see my daddy. Maybe just maybe Nepal will work out :) You can hold on to my husband, Im not ready for all that, but do bring that amazing group of friends youve given me even closer. Get me outside for more barefoot sunsets, more levees, more runnin, and road trips, too. Get me back to myself--Id love to show her all the things Ive learned. Find me a willow tree and a full moon; endless breezes and stretches of highway.

And maybe if you can find a warm summer night free, id like to catch some fireflies.

January is almost over so you might wanna get started on that list ;)

Love,

kay

intentional

2011-11-11T22:50:00.001-08:00

who needs a campfire
when we're walking flames?
licking life in a blaze of glory

passions burn adjacent
writhing desire for change
broken people all we see

naked, raw, unarmed
that first time you saw me
I know you saw my soul

deep called unto deep
spirits shook hands, stood staring
avoiding each other since, in fear

I saw your windows were shattered
your brows the remaining panes
I always ended up falling past

the songs in our hearts are much the same
i dance it out
and you play

the strings of my heart,
hum louder than that banjo
i wait in the wings for my count

failure to see past my bubbles...
remember just past the foam of the shore
lie the depths of sea

I'll dance, you can sing
uproot the earth, sow new seed
mending lives with dirty fingernails

three willows planted
joined, braided, unshakable
and the leaves of the Tree are for healing of the nations

Katydid

2011-11-06T15:32:00.000-08:00

I walked out of the apartment and into the rain...all I had on was flip flops, a denim sundress, shorts in place of drawers, and 2 bobby pins. And keys and an umbrella. I really just wanted to dance in the rain. But alas I was 25 and without an accomplice to divide the due share of scrutiny from inevitable passers-by.

I walked and the grit from the sidewalk was eating my feet (twas tag-teaming with my flip flops). So, I took them off. Got plenty of looks for that one. I didn't care.

It was pouring. I was so anxious, missing the Lord and squirming in my cesspool of disobedience and sin (a beautiful man who was off limits, cest la vivre). Lots of rain. Lots and lots of rain.

I kept walking. All the way past the brooklyn museum and into the park. It dawned on me: the park would be mine. I started to cry but realized I hadn't the right, I walked into my mess, so, I walked into the park. Wet from rain and not tears.

My feet squished in the soggy grass and I was harkened back to my high school track days; barefoot X's on the football field to strengthen our feet post practice. I like my feet. I missed being strong.

I walked all the way to the back of the park to a favorite tree, I had to be miles from home. I sat under the tree and desired so strongly to dance in the deluge but insecurity wouldn't let me. Why was I so damned insecure?! There was myself and 3 other people in the mile radius from my perch on mangled tree roots. But I just sat there seized with discomfort.

Disgusting.

I tried to sing worship songs but I couldn't, my shame and insecurity barely let a sound from my mouth. Even through the impenetrable rain shield that kept all my noise between me and God in that wee small space under my leafy umbrella. I'm terrified of my voice. New shame stopped me. "Lord I cannot even declare my love for You alone in a field," I thought. "And I won't dance for You...and You've put me exactly where I can do the one thing I desire."

I scooted off my roots and stepped to the dripping, water wall edge of the canopy. Awkwardly I clasped my hands behind my back and stepped heel toe rock, swing, heel toe rock, swing...out towards the center of the field.

A man walking by watched as I walked. Feeling his eyes I squatted to write 'Jesus' in the mud with a good stick I found. It's hard to find good sticks these days. It's hard to write Jesus when you know you've dug nails through the very Hands that have your name tattooed upon them.

I'm sure He appreciated the effort. I guess.

The rain hadn't stop from the moments the sky turned green before I left the house. Sheets fell. I could feel it on my scalp and in my belly button.

All I've ever wanted to do was dance but I never do it--Martha Graham aptly deemed the body a sacred garment and mine was starched and pressed on a hanger--never could the Spirit use me without it terrifying me. So, I stood there. The water didn't bug me, I bugged me.

I opened my arms low, and looked up...and started to sing ever so quietly under my breath. My chest was tight from the lengths of proverbial rope I'd tied over and around me in the past years; arbitrary constraints and limitations to fit into the society I'm pretty sure I wasn't made for anyway. "My arms are open Lord...I'm going to dance even if I don't feel it."

So I did.

My hair was plastered to my head at this point and I marveled that the rain and the bobby pins were working in such harmony to keep my bun in place whilst I danced. As I went I didn't let my limited movement vocabulary keep me from dancing...I'm sure I did the same leap over and over again 50 times, changing it up slightly each time. Baby steps, grand jetes. I opened up, both body and spirit, and me and God, we wrestled. Well, we danced, but like an abstract Jacob situation. I wasn't going to leave until He gave me joy.

I danced and jumped and leaped and twirled and swayed and worshiped and sang for two hours. Water in my eyes and up my nose, down my neck and the back of my knees. Not an inch of me was unwashed. Neither inside nor out.

I stood on the edge of the field for another half hour. I'd start to leave and realize I wasn't finished so I'd dance some more. Get ready to leave then get a little more out. The rain never let up, which I loved, and I started the long trek home.

Since I was a child my momma has always called me katydid. I hadn't ever thought of that being prophetic, but that day I certainly left a me-shaped shell in the middle of that field. Humans were never meant for the grips of an exoskeleton, and I found my freedom in the pouring rain.

It Must Be Bought

2011-09-12T15:39:00.000-07:00

It must Be Bought
L.B. Cowman

"Great truths are dearly bought, the common truths,
Such as men give and take front day to day,
Come in the common walk of easy life,
Blown by the careless wind across our way.

"Great truths are greatly won, not found by chance,
Nor wafted on the breath of summer dream;
But grasped in the great struggle of the soul,
Hard buffeting with adverse wind and stream.

"But in the day of conflict, fear and grief,
When the strong hand of God, put forth in might,
Plows up the subsoil of the stagnant heart,
And brings the imprisoned truth seed to the light.

"Wrung from the troubled spirit, in hard hours
Of weakness, solitude, perchance of pain,
Truth springs like harvest from the well-plowed field,
And the soul feels it has not wept in vain."

"On all bare heights shall be their pasture" (Isa. 49:9, RV).

Toys and trinkets are easily won, but the greatest things are greatly bought. The top-most place of power is always bought with blood. You may have the pinnacles if you have enough blood to pay. That is the conquest condition of the holy heights everywhere. The story of real heroisms is the story of sacrificial blood. The chiefest values in life and character are not blown across our way by vagrant winds. Great souls have great sorrows.

The capacity for knowing God enlarges as we are brought by Him into circumstances which oblige us to exercise faith; so, when difficulties beset our path let us thank God that He is taking trouble with us, and lean hard upon Him.

http://www.crosswalk.com/devotionals/desert/

NY Times: Criticized Philippine Art Exhibit Is Closed

2011-08-10T07:41:00.000-07:00

Dang, read this: Thank you to the Philippines for doing what Americans would never do. Minus the hate garbage. I'm in a hurry to leave so I'll do commentary later.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/10/world/asia/10philippines.html?_r=1&ref=world

By CARLOS H. CONDE
Published: August 9, 2011

MANILA — Officials shut down a controversial art exhibition on Tuesday after a storm of public protest that included criticism from President Benigno S. Aquino III, who called the artwork offensive to the country’s Christian majority.

One of the artists whose work was on display at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, Mideo Cruz, criticized the action, saying in an interview that it would “become a freedom of expression issue” with far-reaching implications for artists and government-financed venues like the cultural center.

The exhibit, which opened in June, had been scheduled to close Aug. 21. Critics called it an affront to Christianity in a country whose population of 94 million is predominantly Roman Catholic. Among the works on display was a wooden cross with a protruding penis.

Although the cultural center’s board cited vandalism and threats as the reasons for the closing, Mr. Aquino said on Tuesday that he had told board members that the exhibition was inappropriate for a center that relies on public financing.

While he respected freedom of expression, the president said, that freedom is not absolute.

The center’s board said in a statement on Tuesday that it would “continue to act as catalyst for free expression of Filipino artists” but that it had “reviewed its policies” and that it was “taking steps to enable its officers and staff to make more informed decisions in the future.”

The board did not give details about the threats, apart from pointing out that Mr. Cruz’s installation was vandalized on Aug. 4 and that a couple tried to set it on fire. “Subsequent hate mails and threats to members of the board intensified following this incident,” it said.

Karen Flores, head of the center’s visual arts department, which organized the exhibit, said in a text message to artists and colleagues that the threats had come via text messages and e-mails. She warned Mr. Cruz “to be extra careful.”

On Monday, Imelda Marcos, the country’s former first lady, visited the exhibition and expressed her disgust at Mr. Cruz’s work, which featured religious images and icons mixed with images of pop culture figures. In one part of the installation, a used condom was draped on a cross.

Mrs. Marcos, who oversaw construction of the center during the rule of her husband, Ferdinand Marcos, said she had persuaded the board to close the exhibit.

“It was a shameful exhibit, especially since it was placed in the Cultural Center of the Philippines,” Mrs. Marcos told reporters on Monday. “We built that to be the sanctuary of the Filipino soul and a monument to the Filipino spirit.”

Mr. Cruz is known for his irreverent installations, which he says are meant to raise questions about the “culture of idolatry” in the Philippines. He began work on the installation, “Poleteismo,” in 2002, and it has been exhibited in various venues, including a Jesuit university.

The controversy erupted several days ago when a television network broadcast a report that focused on the male genitals protruding out of the cross and on the condom.

Powerful

2011-08-10T07:04:00.000-07:00

YES! HE IS! HALLELUJAH!

Brother Lawrence

2011-08-09T10:40:00.000-07:00

"What I wanted simply was to belong to God, so I decided to give everything I could give in order to obtain the greatest blessing in return--knowing Him. I gave myself completely to God, accepting His forgiveness for my sins, after which I renounced everything that might offend him. I began to live as if there were no one else but God and myself in the world."

Hard words, but the only way to even attempt to honor the grace that has been given us. Thank You, Jesus.

He loves me :)

2011-08-09T08:36:00.000-07:00

Every now and then I get to see myself outside of myself--I see for a second how God sees me--gosh how neat that He loves us so much. Today as I left my apartment I watched this sunburnt, wheat-headed woman bounce gracefully down the steps, denim sundress, flip flops, a tattered purse and messy pony tail. I saw innocence and God's grace. I saw blue eyes meet the sun and a smile stretched up to heaven. I saw His daughter. What a blessed thing to have Someone who loves me as I am, who sees me as a sweet little thing, who truly longs for me. My God, He is the only one I will ever let break me. So often I have encountered men who didn't take the time to learn the intricacies of this child--instead they sought to break me to build me up to their liking. My dad met a man I wanted to marry once and he told me, "Kayli, you are my free spirited little air head and I see him crushing your spirit." Coming from my dad who isn't the emotional, complimentary type, this is astounding. Run along side me, encourage me in the Lord, build me--but note the ME, I'm me. Don't tamper with God's handiwork. I am not a blank canvas, but a painting; I am a sculpture, not a lovely set of scrap metal to create what you want. Complete me, don't rearrange me. One of my closest guy friends told me a tidbit that was so sweet, the guy himself is a self-proclaimed jerk, lover of women and all that stuff, but over the last 8 years he has softened so much particularly in his dealings with me. I called him recently devastated over losing a new friendship with a young lady I was convinced was divinely placed in my life and he calmly explained me to me as accurately as I've ever heard. And it is funny, his description was very much that same glimmer I got this morning. He was painfully honest, which is why I value his friendship, but he has taken the time to observe me, listen to me, and understand me. He appreciates the me as I was created, rebuking me lovingly when I am being "dumb" to put it in short. He doesn't try to fix me, he understands that God is the one who fixes that which is broken. We must put effort into seeing our brothers and sisters as God sees them. As they were created. To be loved is to be fully known and fully accepted--all the bad stuff, but also the good. If you can't appreciate all the good stuff why are you around? It means you probably aren't putting in enough effort. People are A-MA-ZING, but just because they don't fit some particular mold doesn't mean they don't have something to offer. If you don't see amazing, it means you haven't looked hard enough.

Iron sharpens iron, not recycles iron to build something new.

Incredible Day

2011-08-09T08:03:00.001-07:00

So this was the day the Lord had made--and I loved it so much :) I woke up anticipating a meeting with a friend, though we hadn't agreed to a time or date, and within a half an hour of me waking and about ten minutes of me realizing he would call, he called. Right on cue. We walked to and through the park and I had such a fun time being outside--I never go outside anymore. Lately I've been trapped in some pretty ridiculous depression, so I have been hiding under a rock more or less. My friends are clueless, but hey, I'm a ninja with this sort of stuff (they also don't read my blog, lol). Anyhoo, the day was BRILLIANT, with a breeze that rocked the trees, shaking the leaves in that subtle applause for the Creator and blowing through me so thoroughly it lifted my hurt right up and out...so much so I had to spread my arms and thank the Lord in my head. Lord You get me. On my adventure I managed to step in dog poop barefoot (TERRIBLE), but otherwise spent my time getting a terrible sunburn and talking with a friend. We found a great bug who was dying--he and I always manage to find great bugs together, perhaps this is why we are such good friends. He likes bugs and all of God's stuff, too. We even found a bunch of good sticks, folks always laugh at me for finding good sticks. Such a shame. While we were out we noticed a group of Jewish gentlemen throwing out pieces of yarn across the field in the park. We talked to them a bit and they told us about a game in which about 200 little children would come and collect the strings, tie them together, and whoever has the longest string wins. Omigoodness these children were stinking cute...masses released over a hill, flooding the lawn and scooping up strings. On the way home we played in the water fountains outside of the Brooklyn Museum and ate Italian Ices.

I came home and changed, chatted with a wonderful woman who is renting out one of our rooms, and left late for my west african dance class. I. Love. This. Class. Afterwards a few of us gathered at a lovely couple's home and cooked dinner together. I love fellowship so much; it scares the crap out of me because I am kind of way shy at times, but I loved it so much. The couple actually met in the peacecorps in Africa, so we had lots of conversation about Guinea and such. Dinner was great, they made soup, corncobs, and a special order omlette for me. Before we started got home the wife of this sweet couple mentioned to me that her husband would probably make me a smoothie because he has been on a smoothie kick; 5 minutes through the door he offered up--so excitedly I might add--fresh made smoothies. I loved this for a couple reasons: 1) I love people who get excited about sharing parts of their life/studies/interests/gifts/joys with other people and 2) I love how much she knew her husband. I would love someone to know me that much and be able to call out the stuff I'd probably do~not point out the areas I'd fall or the bad stuff~but know my joys so intimately that they could call stemming behaviors from a mile away. She wouldn't have had that if she didn't listen to him, observe him, and love him just like he is. She listens. All the way--and embraces her husband. Her friend. She appreciates the whole person God made for her. Lovely.

I danced in my head on the train all the way home and came home to my wonderful temp roomie. We watched her daughter's dance videos and talked about family, marriage, and God. She is a pastor's wife so she's seen QUITE a bit. Such a blessing to have her in the house. My mother called to tell me that she wants me to marry Josh Groban. Mom = nerd.

Here are some pictures of our great bug! I really should do a bug post, I find so many great ones :) I should post my crazy sunburn! It's bad... Anyway, enjoy!

Such a regal little creature! He was dying but somehow managed to to it majestically and with grace. Twas so sad.

Lily nose! My friend's sweet girl :)

Lily girl :)

His wings were beautiful--all of him was exquisite. God is the most inspiring artist ever :)

The end!

Not Judgement, but some Truth

2011-08-09T05:53:00.000-07:00

This article is so insightful and quite powerful:

http://www.crosswalk.com/family/marriage/relationships/pornography-s-pull-michael-o-brien-s-journey-toward-healing.html

I wish most men knew how devastating sexual deviance is to a woman; like had an opportunity to feel the deep, deep rift in her soul when she is part of something perverse. I know all sin goes both ways, but a woman feels so deeply, a man who values his [future] wife cannot take this problem lightly. When you are upset, don't walk to your sin like a bag of oreos that you can work off later (aka receive grace for later); it is not that light. It is very different to the heart of a woman. It is not a thorn in your flesh to smile about (oh darn, right, I suffer with being a chick magnet); it is a very deeply wounding act for all the women involved. I know of a couple back home who were married young and the husband had issues with having sex with women coupled with a pornography addiction; he discovered how deeply it would affect his future wife and how much it hurt the Lord so he took the embarrassing step of seeking help and getting accountability partners. Even with all these steps, a beautiful wife who shows abundant grace, and the power of the Lord in their marriage, it is a very real thing that they must manage daily. He has to lay down the desire and she has to lay down the hurt and cover all of it in grace. It doesn't go away when there is a ring on the finger. Another story I heard that broke my heart was this amazing pastor who would bring people to the Lord all the time, truly had the hand of God on him, had a beautiful wife who was a meek wonderful believer, strong strong Christian, but he had an issue he never stepped out and got a handle on that wrecked his marriage. He would constantly chastise his wife for her behavior that seemed even remotely unBiblical (mind you this was a woman to served the Lord with deep awe and reverence), she never felt good enough for him, never felt like she measured up to his standard of perfection. Later it was revealed that he was buying prostitutes and performing dark sexual acts with people. His believing followers aside, his wife was wrecked and shaken so deeply. She trusted him fully, just as God commanded, but he went on willingly abusing her obedience and deceiving her with no halt in his behavior. Once many moons ago I dated a man who was also my best friend. He was quite a ladies man undercover, respected them deeply in his mind but would have sex with lots of women. He knew my standards so he played the part when we were together. We were young when we dated and I VERY MUCH HATED strip clubs; once at a family gathering I found out that the ONE that he informed me he went to was actually several and that he had lied to me. First the lie hurt, but now that it was out in the open, he just began openly going. I told him that I'd rather him be honest with me so he was, but he never once changed his behavior to honor me or keep from breaking my heart. I called him once on a weekend, we lived in difference cities, and he answered from a strip club. He was so flippant in informing me he was about to get a lap dance, that he was having a great time, and that I really shouldn't think it was a big deal. "Another woman's breasts are in your face, how am I not supposed to think this is a big deal? It's okay because you can't touch her? What?" I thought. I shouldn't think it is a big deal because he wants to do it and is going to do it anyway. Ouch. My throat closed and my heart pounded, I was so crushed it nearly made me vomit. My neck went hot and I shook violently. Quite obviously my heart was broken and, to his credit, after a year and a half of crushing me, he saw how much it broke me and truly gave up his behaviors. I BEGGED God for years that my husband never have this issue, "Lord it is the one thing I can't handle, it hurts me so much" I'd pray. Please let my husband be careful with me and love me and honor women out of reverence for Your heart, their souls and mine. It is sincerely spirit crushing when a man takes this part of my/his wife's heart so lightly--I am not perfect, or sexually pure for that matter, but I do know that I would never brush aside part of my husband's heart in this way. One thing I do know is that I am completely open to the Will of God; sometimes I fight it tooth and nail, but ultimately I know He gives grace to the humble and would help me through if the man He has for me has this issue, but just like I would work incessantly to give grace, he would have to be sincerely repentant--not comfortable in it or reveling in his adoring women--and as humbled before God or I know it would kill me. I'm not making a statement of judgement, just that it IS a big deal and that it is a true travesty that many of the men with these issues cannot or choose not to see/feel/fathom the profound pain it inflicts on the women God created as their helpmate, other half, friend--who God enlisted them to protect.

Listen, love, and step out in faith and find help. You may not mind your "thorn" but you will when you see how it will melt across your bride's heart like acid--even when she gives grace and forgiveness and is strong, her heart WILL be broken until You both go to the Lord for REAL MENDING. How shameful to wait and change, to wait for her to hurt then condemn her if she struggles with giving grace. Work towards it now. The women aside: you need healing from the Lord. Calling it a thorn is a cop out. Ice cream is not a thorn, neither is sex. Why start broken? You may ask God to take the thorn, but He might ask you to pull it out yourself and hand it to Him. It's not calories, it's people... it's you and the second half God will bless you with. Many prayers and encouragement.

God bless.

Something About Joy and Noise

2011-08-05T23:01:00.000-07:00

So music.

It IS bottled emotion. Pour it on and you are impacted, quite in spite of yourself you might find at times, but it is the only art that will move you in some way shape or form guaranteed. There is something utterly divine and precious about a musician because they manage to take a sentiment, a feeling, a story, LIFE, and squeeze it down onto a grid of molecule manipulating genius. They paint with sound waves. In my life there have been some pretty profound seasons of numbness that were only survivable because Coldplay(santana, whomever) pulled out what I SHOULD have been feeling...I felt vicariously through my music...piggybacked off someone else's ability to pinpoint what was in and pull it out. Their hurt ran in my ears, took my sorrow by the hand and led it out through gut-clenching pain and bowls of tears. I couldn't eat. But I felt.

So to all the musicians who feel so deeply and fish so deeply and adhere so diligently to bearing the fruit of that nagging inspiration I thank you from the bottom of my deep deep well of a heart that I myself cannot see the bottom of. Thanks for the rope and the pail.

Deep calls unto deep.

What am I listening to presently, you ask?

The Winner is by Devotchka

Isolate

2011-08-05T22:39:00.000-07:00

apart

set apart

set aside

aside:

Maybe I am running...but my heart beats for this...quickened in time with my step

so is it to or from?

don't care, it is time

please, Lord

today?

Laughter of a broken man

2011-08-05T19:31:00.000-07:00

8/5/11

rocking on the edge of his rocking chair
hanes and an afghan
just rocking

the glow of the television paling his face
he rocks in an orb of soft whiteness
isolated in a dark room

his face is hard, his rock is harder
shuddering and wasting
frail, determined for us

Others jump or pull the trigger
he was never that 40%
so he rocked for us

Shots and medication
pain, pain. Pain
overcame the needle for us

he claims no god
he read 5 pages "proving" He isn't real
so it was us

disease it claimed him
had a party, invited friends
he crashed it, but they remembered the venue

but he had us
so he worked
and he rocked

and he lived

that living room is gone
that chair is gone
there is nothing to rock him

where has he gone?

those happy blue eyes
that infectious laughter
it got pitched with everything in our garage

so I just see him in my head
intent on rocking, focused on the television
dying to live

Don't Worry, Be Happy

2011-08-05T18:12:00.001-07:00

But don't worry be happy
Cause when you worry
Your face will frown
And that will bring everybody down
So don't worry, be happy (now).....

http://youtu.be/5bNE-5TVAmg

Patience Works Perfection, Completion

2011-08-05T18:02:00.000-07:00

Lovely exerpt:

One evening, just as the sun set amid radiant clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen any like them before. They were swans, and they curved their graceful necks, while their soft plumage shone with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a singular cry, as they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions to warmer countries across the sea. As they mounted higher and higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange sensation as he watched them. He whirled himself in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry so strange that it frightened himself. Could he ever forget those beautiful, happy birds? And when at last they were out of his sight, he dived under the water, and rose again almost beside himself with excitement. He knew not the names of these birds, nor where they had flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other bird in the world. He was not envious of these beautiful creatures, but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature, how gladly he would have lived even with the ducks had they only given him encouragement.

The Ugly Duckling, Hans Christian Andersen

I'm Such a Country Girl...Minus Milking Cows at Dawn Before School...

2011-07-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

Something in me gets all riled up when I hear a good country song...maybe you just have to be Southern...but whatever it is I love it and would never change it. I've never been an "in your face" kind of person, but if you don't "get" this quality about me, well, I can't help you. I'm a pasty white bag of bubbles and sunshine--smiley, happy, and in love with Jesus. Some folks get a little off put by my jovial nature, but I can't care anymore. Deal with it, lol. Anyway, I hope my husband loves me this much! I don't think I'll get a husband, God stuff, but if I do, I'll only marry him if he loves me this much and maybe a little bit more :) I LOVE LOVE

Lady Antebellum
There's Somthin' 'Bout a Woman

Well there's somethin bout a woman with my t-shirt on
and no make up on
standin there smiling with my coffee cup
There's somethin bout a woman that's easy to love

Yeah, there's somethin bout a woman that's a clear blue sky
Can't find nothin better that'll get you high
You're all the colors of the sun at the end of the day
Yeah there's somethin bout a woman that'll make you feel that way

She's like fire on a mountian
Like some kinda heaven that's pourin down on me
she's a child, she's a lady
She's got everything that I could ever need
Yeah there's somethin bout a woman and me

Yeah there's somethin bout a woman when she gets dressed up
Slips her red dress on and her eyes light up
I love to watch her walkin from across the room
Yeah there's somethin bout a woman and the way she moves me
She moves me, oh she moves me

she's like fire on a mountian
like some kinda heaven that's pourin down on me
she's a child, she's a lady
she's got everything that i could ever need
yeah, there's somethin bout a woman and me

She moves me, she moves me, oh she moves me
she's like fire on a mountain
like some kinda heaven that's pourin down on me
she's a child, she's a lady
she's got everything that i could ever need
yeah, there's somethin bout a woman and me

yeah, there's somethin bout a woman that makes me still
there's somethin bout a woman that always wil

THIS Is What I Call ADVENTURE

2011-07-29T21:51:00.000-07:00

Hoping to work on a farm here in a few weeks...these are the directions from the airport:

Directions to Finca Bona Fide:

Take a bus to the city of Rivas. From Mercado Huembes in Managua from the Market in Granada. From the Taxi corner in San Juan Del Sur. From the CR border direct to Rivas and so forth.

From Rivas: Take a Taxi to San Jorge (El Muelle=the Port) Cost should be no more than $1.00. Group of 3 $2.50

Travel on the ‘Lancha’ or the ‘Ferry’ the 2:30pm ferry meets up with a 3:45pm bus that waits for the ferry and goes to the town where we work, Balgüe. There are many buses to Balgüe, some direct some indirect, you may have to get off at ‘El Quino’ and take another bus to Balgüe you will figure it out.

Once you arrive in Balgüe:

Most buses go to the last stop which is the stop that many backpackers get off at to walk 1km uphill to Finca Magdalena, a popular tourist site. Get off there OR ride the bus farther if it goes towards the river on the road. Whether riding or walking walk to the river, cross the river on a concrete footbridge on the right hand side. Continue walking about 350m/yds look for a road on the right hand side (look for our sign as well red and white) the road leads up hill and has concrete tracks leading uphill.

Walk uphill on the concrete tracks, when you reach the top where they finish out go sharp right and continue walking, first across country for about 150m/yds and then up hill again always following the main dirt road track up hill for about 450m/yds until the road peters out/finishes. Here you will find gravel piles and bricks from there walk 100m/yds uphill on a path, at the top of the path you will run into a workshop with a Spanish tile roof. Give a yell from there your 40m/yds from the main kitchen. The dogs are friendly.

...AAAGGGHHH! I friggin' love it :) My poor mother is having a cow, i wanna go so bad though!! It's looking like I might. So exciting!

You Can't Teach a Frog to Fly

2011-07-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

I found this on crosswalk.com...LOVE IT!

Guest Post by Steve Brown (read more about Steve here). Few people make me laugh more than Steve. Enjoy…

I’ve had a lousy job for most of my life.

As you know, I’m a preacher/pastor and my job description is to keep people from doing what they obviously want to do. I’ve often felt like an overwhelmed police officer at a rock concert charged with keeping the concert goers from using drugs.

With a job description like mine, you hardly ever get invited to parties, people are not very honest, and sometimes you feel like a wet shaggy dog shaking himself at a wedding. I tell them that I’m trying to help and that God anointed me to reach out to them, but they simply don’t care.

Preachers are supposed to keep people from sinning.

I haven’t been very successful so far.

There are times when I feel like I’m standing by a cliff where people come to dance. “Be careful,” I tell them. “It’s a long way down and the stop will be quite unpleasant.” They look at me. They sometimes even thank me.

Then they jump.

But I keep at it. “Hey,” I say to the next group who approach the cliff, “not too long ago, I saw people go off that cliff and if you’ll bend over and look, you can see the bloody mess they made.” Like everybody else, since I’ve been standing beside the cliff, they seem grateful for my concern. They maybe even say something about my compassion and wisdom.

Then they jump.

Frankly, I’m tired of it. In fact, I’ve given up standing by this stupid cliff. I’m tired of being people’s mother. I’m tired of trying to prevent the unpreventable. I’m tired of talking to people who don’t want to listen. And I’m tired of pointing out the obvious.

Just when I determine to leave my position by the cliff, to my horror and surprise…

I jump!

What’s with that?

Let me tell you. There is a very human and undeniable proclivity of human beings to sin-to jump off the cliff. We’re drawn to it. We love it (at least for awhile). No matter who tries to keep us from doing it or how much pain it will cause, we are irresistibly drawn to that cliff. Maybe we want to fly. Could be that we have a masochistic streak in our DNA. Could be that our default position is jumping off cliffs. I don’t know. But for whatever reason, we do jump, we do get hurt, and if we survive, we then climb back up the cliff and jump again.

There is a parable (author unknown) about Felix, the flying frog. Even if I mix the metaphor a bit, let me tell you the parable.

Once upon a time, there lived a man named Clarence who had a pet frog named Felix. Clarence lived a modestly comfortable existence on what he earned working at the Wal-Mart, but he always dreamed of being rich. “Felix!” he said one day, hit by sudden inspiration, “We’re going to be rich! I’m going to teach you to fly!”

Felix, of course, was terrified at the prospect. “I can’t fly, you twit! I’m a frog, not a canary!”

Clarence, disappointed at the initial response, told Felix: “That negative attitude of yours could be a real problem. We’re going to remain poor, and it will be your fault.”

So Felix and Clarence began their work on flying.

On the first day of the “flying lessons,” Clarence could barely control his excitement (and Felix could barely control his bladder). Clarence explained that their apartment building had 15 floors, and each day Felix would jump out of a window, starting with the first floor and eventually getting to the top floor. After each jump, they would analyze how well he flew, isolate the most effective flying techniques, and implement the improved process for the next flight. By the time they reached the top floor, Felix would surely be able to fly.

Felix pleaded for his life, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. “He just doesn’t understand how important this is,” thought Clarence. “He can’t see the big picture.”

So, with that, Clarence opened the window and threw Felix out. He landed with a thud.

The next day, poised for his second flying lesson, Felix again begged not to be thrown out of the window. Clarence told Felix about how one must always expect resistance when introducing new, innovative plans.

With that, he threw Felix out the window. THUD!

Now this is not to say that Felix wasn’t trying his best. On the fifth day, he flapped his legs madly in a vain attempt at flying. On the sixth day, he tied a small red cape around his neck and tried to think “Superman” thoughts. It didn’t help.

By the seventh day, Felix, accepting his fate, no longer begged for mercy. He simply looked at Clarence and said, “You know you’re killing me, don’t you?”

Clarence pointed out that Felix’s performance so far had been less than exemplary, failing to meet any of the milestone goals he had set for him.

With that, Felix said quietly, “Shut up and open the window,” and he leaped out, taking careful aim at the large jagged rock by the corner of the building.

Felix went to that great lily pad in the sky.

Clarence was extremely upset, as his project had failed to meet a single objective that he had set out to accomplish. Felix had not only failed to fly, he hadn’t even learned to steer his fall as he dropped like a sack of cement, nor had he heeded Clarence’s advice to “Fall smarter, not harder.”

The only thing left for Clarence to do was to analyze the process and try to determine where it had gone wrong. After much thought, Clarence smiled and said…

“Next time, I’m getting a smarter frog!”

A number of years ago, I realized that I was, as it were, trying to teach frogs to fly. Frogs can’t fly. Not only that, they get angry when you try to teach them. The gullible ones will try, but they eventually get hurt so badly they quit trying. And the really sad thing about being a “frog flying teacher” is that I can’t fly either.

Let me tell you a secret. If one is a teacher trying to teach frogs to fly, nobody ever bothers to ask if you can fly. In fact, if you pretend that you’re an expert and tell a lot of stories about flying; if you can throw in a bit of aeronautical jargon about stalls, spins and flight maneuvers; and if you carry around a “Flight Manual” and know your way around it, nobody will question your ability to fly. You just pretend you’re an expert and tell stories, and the students will think you can fly.

The problem is that you become so phony you can’t stand yourself.

So I’ve repented.

Now I just send them to Jesus and try to get out of the way.

Come to think of it, if you’re struggling with sin and aren’t getting better, don’t come to me. I like you okay, but that kind of depends on how my day is going. Instead of coming to me, run to Jesus. He’ll love you and maybe even make you better.

http://www.crosswalk.com/blogs/tchividjian/you-cant-teach-a-frog-to-fly-so-stop-trying.html

no

2011-07-27T22:58:00.000-07:00

http://www.theatlantic.com/infocus/2011/07/famine-in-east-africa/100115/

Poem I Found in a Book in Boston

2011-07-27T13:00:00.000-07:00

Love
Author Unknown

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.

I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song...

So THIS Is Bashing My Face Into A Wall...

2011-06-16T14:15:00.000-07:00

So I had my students begin cleaning my classroom today--which they love, don't hang me for child labor--and for the most part it was a fun experience. For the most part. I did, however, have a group of students that are habitually disrespectful, habitually stealing, and habitually breaking every class rule possible/whining/yelling/eating/leaving/hitting/throwing/talking/lying/littering/sleeping/playing...that isn't the whole list, but you get the picture. I have talked to them one on one, I know their parents raise them better than this, and I know that they are, most of them, provided for (mostly)at home. One student in particular today was sorting through lab materials and clay used for a modeling activity needed to be put away. Much of the clay was mixed up so the student (and a couple others) spent much of the period separating the clay. I loosely supervised 5 different projects and mainly helped another student while she worked. Each time I checked on them they were working just fine so I didn't bother scrutinizing their work. At the end of class they were dismissed, given the last of the Hershey chocolate I am going to try to not use any more, and the entire middle school went outside to play. Outside I found a MASSIVE wad of clay that the particular student in mind (we'll call her "Daisy") had been putting away. I must rewind back to the end of class, however, and describe a situation that occurred before we dismissed. I do not allow eating in my classroom, especially when handling lab equipment, because of the fact that it is a lab and because we have a major mouse infestation. This child is CONSTANTLY eating in my classroom (and is often made fun of because of her weight) and very much a whiner. I sent her into the hallway because she was still chewing a gigantic wad of food when I came by. The part of teaching that I struggle with is the disgust I feel when dealing with these kids; I struggle with shame for feeling this way about children but it is a very real part of teaching other humans. The part that disgusted me wasn't how much she had shoved in her mouth, or the freaking horribly obnoxious whining she did on the way out--it was that she had the audacity to walk back in when I wasn't looking, stuff more food into her mouth (to the point that she couldn't speak) and take a large portion of clay and shove into her pockets. She stole from the lab. And her behavior is just representative of at least half of the student populations' daily actions. I have been struggling with depression for the last weeks because I feel that the last year has been in vain. I have POUNDED character into their daily routine, talked to them one-on-one, demonstrated appropriateness, loved on them, yelled at them, disciplined them, and prayed like crazy for them...but they worsen daily. I KNOW the time of year has an influence; I KNOW it isn't just me...but I don't care. I didn't become a teacher because I wanted to talk about particles and kinetic energy all day...I became a teacher 1) because God said so and 2) to love on kids who need it. The painfully nauseating truth is that most of them actually dislike coming into my classroom. I yell too much. 65% of the time I am actually quite calm and miraculously patient (praise be to God, I have no clue how) but I am quite human and can only handle so much repeated infractions, incessant disrespect, and actual hatred towards one another so much before I have to start yelling (and 90% of the time it is out of necessity, they literally CAN'T hear me). When I asked her about it on the playground (the gargantuan wad of lab material that is) she, and her usual partner in crime lied with the straightest faces imaginable. She is 13 and he is 12.

***The current conversation I am hearing right now is right outside the building, literally outside the principal's window:

I'm not playing wit chu befu I deck tha sh** outta you. He can't f***in touch my stuff. I'm not f***in playin wit chu...I'ma f***in deck you if you touch my sh**.

"It's a hard-knock life" is LITERALLY blaring out of some one's vehicle and the sound of car alarms, buses, kids yelling, basketballs bouncing, and awkwardly misused english language and profanity are sprinkled in here there.***

I freaking LOVE my kids. I adore my students. Hence this monstrous knot in my stomach. Hence this profound sense of failure. The student who was just provoking the altercation outside the building was one I actually intended to write about in this post. She and I have talked many a time, fought many a time, and have come to a mutual understanding. She is trying to change as she says, and is fully aware that I love her, so her class has gotten a million times better in the last months. We had a "moment" in the hall about 4 months into the year, a good one, where a blessed alliance was formed. She knew I wasn't against her, and that I actually liked her, and even though she is still no angel, we work at something positive...whatever it is.

I assign these essays called, "Teach Me Something Essays" that were initially and repeatedly since assigned to allow the students to explore science topics they are interested in and teach me about it. It never fails that I get a slew of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with science. Nothing. They know the point of the assignment, but they intentionally write about whatever it is they want to write about. I love free-writes, they are great, but I won't accept it in the place of the actual assignment. Criticize me as you will (God knows how critical people are of teachers~especially having no clue what the helm of a classroom looks like) but I'm not a doormat, my student's aren't idiots, and I have rules. Shoot me.

Anyway, this young lady in particular (the fighter not the eater) intentionally wrote an essay about a non-science topic. She wrote about herself. with her long history of doing almost nothing--literally about 15 incomplete assignments total--something this long landed a spot on the board. I didn't give her a passing grade, but I also didn't post the grade on it(I'm not into the humiliation tactics many of the teachers in NYC use--they make me sick). I'll only give part of the paper, but this was how that part went, true to punctuation and prose:

"I going to teach you about me Ms Capshaw well I'm a very nice person if you look inside me its so hard to live in harlem and not be ghetto well I don't hang around my family I hang around people that get me when you said I was smart I didn't believe it because its a lot of smart people in the school but one day I was doing work and I saw that I could what I set my to do its so hard to be around your friends and not talk but I try so hard to get on your good side but I can't do everyday I can't change over night nobody can Im going to be better if you would just dig deep into [me] and I would like you to call my by middle name because I love my middle name and you also told me that I pretty I love to thank you for build me up I need that a lot and I'm also a bully but don't take it personal everybody knows this but I could tell you this your one of the best teachers I ever had I've never told that except mr dowdy."

I have more to add to this--thoughts on why they steal and the difficulties in the classroom. I'm fascinated and exasperated and tired and done and just getting started.

I'm not fully dead, nor am I fully alive.

I'm here.

BOSTON!!! Summer 2010

2011-05-28T21:16:00.000-07:00

So this is from LAST summer, Cathy and I drove to BOSTON to have a dandy time. Her bf got us a slammin' hotel and ROOM SERVICE and we just lived it up while we were there :)

These pictures are a few from us trying to perfect a shot that seemed impossible to get...but totally fun trying!!

I love my adventures!!!!! Might be looking to Boston again for other stuff, too :)

Wiles of a Woman

2011-05-22T16:23:00.001-07:00

5/22/11

You seek mystery;
An enigma wrapped in flesh
She'll lose your heart yet.

Go ahead and wait.
You'll find her surely, but know
She is smoke in hand.

You seek Mystery.
That veil that calls you hither
let's no real love in.

A coy turn and then
a quip, a lean, and a look;
batting eyelashes.

Guard your heart, my friend,
her wiles wage war on your soul
blinding you from truth.

Wait for her; the one
who is honest and godly.
Her quirks are worth it.

Be uber careful.
That is all. This stanza is
just to say THE END.

THESIS SUBMITTED!!

2011-05-21T21:14:00.000-07:00

The video and sound is out of sync, but who cares...I'M FINISHED!!

Coffee and Mozart...Neurochemical Divinity

2011-05-14T14:27:00.001-07:00

I'm tearing through this paper and going crazy in the back of my mind all the while. I keep having to take breaks because the weight of my restlessness would crush me if I didn't move from beneath it once in a while. I'm so ready to travel. I know I'm jumping the gun, that it's not my time, and that I don't even really have a purpose in it just yet, but I need to get out. June 3? Graduation. June 5? Planning my summer. I'm getting the heck out of dodge because I might just EXPLODE. The source of all this is #7 combo off the menu of life: a triple stacked schedule with cheese (high school, undergrad, grad school with jobs), a large fry (no breaks in between), a large coke (bubbles and sweet joy in the mix, all with a bit of a bite), a vanilla shake (surplus 20 lbs. to complement my waning sanity)...and then all my friends being young while I freak out about responsibility. That is exactly all I've really focused on since middle school: responsibility. I am proud to say that I have kept my crap mostly together (to put it eloquently), but, when being honest with myself, I have no clue how to unwind and have fun. I've become a date keeper/box checker offer/fulfiller of duties...how did I manage to miss the point? In striving towards a purpose I've run right past it and myself and am stuck in the very awkward position time and again of having to introduce a myself I don't actually know. I have well rehearsed, meaningful explanations of all that I do in my life that is good, but I don't even really feel them any more. I'm too busy. I'm so jealous of the friends I all but judged, the ones who moved home, the ones who quit life to "see the world" the ones who shirked responsibility to pursue a dream... I couldn't do any because my home is foreclosed, I don't have money to see the world, and I lost my dream somewhere in my 15 plus moves over the years. Or I sterilized it so much it just blends in with all the little boxes I can stare at and say I've accomplished.

*blink*

I really do want some time to myself, but the guilt of spending that time on me and doing so at the cost of looking reckless to particular loved ones is all too much. Then there is the feeling that I am running--running from the beginnings of my calling because I'm not ready. Am I called to be a teacher? Get back, Satan! But am I called to love on people and build them (amongst other things)? Yeah. So why would I run from a stable job in a crappy economy wherein I can do exactly that in a creative manner, with kids I love dearly, and in a city that rivals none? Because I'm spent. It is hard to appreciate anything good when you are this burnt out. Here I am, overcoming my last hurdle and all I can think about is freedom. I'm so preoccupied with wanting out I am about to smack my forehead on this paper instead of leaping over it. I need to get back to writing, but with all the writing I'm doing I think I've opened a flood gate. My fingers are like ninjas right now--I can't believe how quickly I am typing. I need to get my nose back to the grindstone, but alas my mind's eye is in the mountains of Nepal or in some field in Thailand. Africa? Always there, especially lately. Gonna go scrape my face on this rock and see if I can make this deadline and get my combo #7 behind across this finish line.

Freedom thou dost call my name.

Such Great Heights

2011-05-14T14:00:00.000-07:00

Lyrics:

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay
True, it may seem like a stretch, but
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when you're away when I am missing you to death
When you are out there on the road for
Several weeks of shows and when you scan
The radio, I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,
'come down now,' but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded
Thin upon listening
That frankly will not fly. you will hear
The shrillest highs and lowest lows with
The windows down when this is guiding you home

Renditions:

The Postal Service (original artist I think)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXEq7WiINa4

The String Quartet (I actually like this one better--I love instrumental stuff SO much)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIQskg-zOCs&feature=related

Wait...I Am Not a Child of God?

2011-05-14T07:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was overcast but otherwise perfect weather; perfect for baseball in the park with my kids. We were there all day--gosh those kids are fun--covered in dirt, myself barefoot, and playing the most poorly executed game of ball you could ever imagine; bad/missed catches, terrible pitches, 3 people trying to make the same play, kids pegging the runners with the ball to get them out--or even chasing them around the field laughing maniacally--sheesh. It was hysterical. We even had to tell about 5 people to please not take pictures or video of the kids. Tourists.

It was exhausting in the best kind of way and the stillness of the train home was perfect for a siesta. I was OUT for a good 20 minutes then heard two men arguing loudly; though I was nestled in the corner (best head rest, of course) one of them was right next to me. I was so tired I managed to stay mostly asleep, but I heard my Savior's name being argued and couldn't stay asleep. The man next to me was one of the ones that hands out the "Judgement Day: May 21, 2011" flyers and carries a huge sign. The sign was so huge that I couldn't see the rest of the car, only the highly irritated woman across from me who was also trying to sleep. She actually got onto the other party in the argument for crowding her and stressing her out, he was a very tall man with a big, cheap cross on his neck and an adamant disapproval of the message my seat-mate was sharing. I was a little miffed at their public argument--being brothers in Christ in all their disrespectful tones (of course the conversation was filled with God bless you BUT's) sent an even bigger message of 'those Christians are a bunch of posers.' Nice. I was still half asleep, a state I never really came out of until the next morning (went to sleep at 8:45 later that night), so my spectatorship was hardly noticed. The plastic cross-bearer left the train soon after with a farewell of "I should give you my phone number so I can tell you I told you so on May 21, God bless you."

And scene.

The man sat there for a bit and I couldn't help but ask him where they got the date from. I wasn't at all in any point of the conversation aggressive, half from fatigue, half from wanting to coerce him into calmness so he could speak his mind un-agitated, and half because I know I myself am no scholar, so I hardly have room for offense at such matters. Too many halves, but you get me. He said it was from "careful study of the Bible," so I pulled out mine and asked him where. He didn't have an easy answer and handed me his pamphlet. His accent was thick, so I found myself perusing the booklet as if to find a transcript of his explanation (but also to hide that I didn't know quite what he was saying at times). I'd just thumb through with a guise of thoughtfulness and nod. Though I didn't get all of what he said, I got enough to have a conversation with him about his stance. In no particular order, the nutshell version is that:

1) God has an elect, that He chooses, and the acceptance of Christ cannot happen unless God Himself chooses you
2) all non-elect will be eternally damned in the flames of hell
3) that Christ died as recompense for the elect only (the wage of sin is death)
4) that many will not believe until the last second and by then it will be too late--Noah referenced here
5) despite a willful and devout denial of self and faithful following of the Lord Jesus Christ and sacrifice of all one's self to the King of Kings--you're crap out of luck on May 21 if you aren't on His list (note that I don't mean to sound cynical or judgmental there)
6) even the "unsaved" as in those who have not heard or have not accepted Christ will be "taken up" to be in the Kingdom of God because they are the 'elect' and that they cannot refuse the Will of God

Another young man joined the conversation and I just thumbed through my Bible looking for who knows what exactly, disappointed God didn't have a word for me to share with this guy. By now I had a million questions, okay more like seven, but I still wasn't irritated, just inquisitive. I asked him why he bothers to carry the sign if he can't lead anyone into salvation with it; I didn't ask this part but it seems more like a cruel dig if that is the case because there is ultimately nothing we can do according to his doctrine, so he is basically just telling the world, "you're going to rot in hell and burn forever. FYI." He said he carried the sign because we are supposed to tell the world about Christ Jesus and that Salvation alone lies in Him...but we have to be on God's list. He said no one knows, no one can tell you who this elect is. He said that no one can tell me I am a child of God and if they did it is a lie. The second man got off after a long argument about doomsday versus judgment day and whether the Bible contradicts itself or not. I asked him why he continues to create people he doesn't want, was told they serve God's Purpose; this made me ask that if God created all things and all good is of God, why He would give goodness to someone He is just going to dispose of anyway and how can He inhabit the non-elect? He said they are just here basically to serve God's Purpose and, ultimately, His Elect. Or something like that.

I finally asked him if he was nervous about the 21st, as it is rapidly approaching, and he replied, "No." I prodded him to explain why, being that he serves faithfully but still may not be included in the Kingdom of God, and he said, "I will be happy that the Will of God has been done, even if God does not choose me." I wondered how a man who loves the Lord would be happy to burn in hell for all eternity but I didn't ask. At this my stop came and I blessed him and hopped off.

Two thoughts came of this whole dialogue. One being that I, nor anyone else knows the whole truth of what is to come. The second was that I myself do not have that kind of faith to claim that last part of what he said. This hurt me. The short walk from the train to my apartment I found myself being kind of snotty to God, "well I know I'M not one of your elect, how could I be, and honestly God if this man is right, which I don't believe he is, but if he is right, You CAN'T be merciful because you are kind of treating the rest of us like a bunch of suckers." It was here that I noted my fleshliness and was a little disgusted at my humanity--God is God, He owes THIS wretched sinner nothing--but how could it be merciful to flex His Godness even upon those who recklessly abandoned EVERYTHING for His glory? It didn't make sense, but I'm still no Bible scholar, so I just put it in the back of my mind and moseyed on up the stairs to my apartment.

I tried to get some work done but was still glazed with sleepiness--I cooked dinner, napped, awoke to more fruitless toiling, and ended up asleep for good by 8:45. When I awoke this morning I found myself agitated still--but with no real reason. My boss has been up my behind lately (I've become her whipping girl, so THAT has been a real lesson in dying to my flesh), this husband stuff has shown me what a prick I can be so my faith in my faith has been a little shaky, but other than that, I have little in the way of immediate irritants. I went about my morning to prepare for a long day of writing and couldn't shake the negative; I tried praying and couldn't focus, couldn't humble myself, or stop being cynical. Finally I pulled out my journal and just started being honest. Recently I found how liberating it is to be honest with God. Not that I'd ever lied to Him, I just didn't really know the precise way to tell the truth. Anyway, I quickly found that my pain was sourced from this man's words and I felt abandoned and rejected. By my own Father, my own Creator. The unfairness of it was more than I could handle and it brought me to tears.

I told God about my conversation with this man, "he said that You have an 'elect' --and that Jesus died for THEM. Not for all of us. He called you Merciful right in the same conversation that he said You would send those who love you to hell--even if they had dedicated their lived to You. That is nonsensical--am I wrong? He even said that the unsaved whom You have selected will get to come anyway. He told me I am not Your child. How hurt I am at all of this God!"

I sounded like a distraught child I know, but I was. In the midst of my outpour and tears I heard that blessed interruption, the voice of the Lord, "Kayli, Kayli, I love you..." I was on such a roll in my rant that it took me a second to acknowledge Him. God's voice is sometimes exactly as I said it, a blessed interruption in our thoughts. I used to question it, as though they were my own thoughts, but how can you interrupt yourself and truly be interrupted? This romance thing keeps getting better and better. God scooped me up and consoled me, reassured me of His love--free from irritation at my indignation, free from judgment--and just loved on me. Can I tell you how deeply I desired this exact, though simple, act? In my last relationship, the gentleman I was dating and I thought we were going to get married; yet every time I cried he would stare at me coldly as if to say, "you are weak, you wretched mess." It scarred my soul and shattered my heart each time. He wouldn't budge, wouldn't touch me, wouldn't even verbally soothe me. I tried to train him to hold me--to point out this hurtfulness--I even painted a picture of him scooping me (though he never got it because he left me for another woman). He did not love me and I fought admitting it so much God had to take him from me. And here that same God is here to scoop me up. The words of the Lord are always so simple, yet so beautiful...

Kayli, Kayli, I love you...

Thank You, Lord. I love You, too. A whole bunch. And even though I am a brat and argue with You about stuff I have no business arguing with You about (I am the stubborn child), I love You with all that is within me. I don't know the whole truth, but I am holding to the one I had before yesterday, that You sent Jesus to die for all of us as atonement for our sins. Thank You for Your Word, so that I may learn. Love you <3

John 12:32 "As for Me, if I am lifted up from the earth I will draw all [people] to Myself."
John 14:18 "I will not leave you as orphans; I am coming to you."

Matthew 7:15 (Whole Chapter)
Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

Matthew 24:11 (Whole Chapter)
And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many.

Mark 13:22 (Whole Chapter)
For false Christs and false prophets shall rise, and shall shew signs and wonders, to seduce, if it were possible, even the elect.

Luke 6:26 (Whole Chapter)
Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets.

2 Peter 2:1 (Whole Chapter)
But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction.

1 John 4:1 (Whole Chapter)
Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.

p.s. Teach me the truth of this 'elect' so that I may know what on earth this man mixed up. Hay-men.

"You Will Reach Nations"

2011-05-11T17:32:00.000-07:00

"...and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations." ~Revelations something and something

Lord, I'm ready to make like a tree and LEAF!

All in Your timing.

Yup.

On Teaching and Human Behavior

2011-05-11T17:04:00.000-07:00

I heart my students :) I proctored the NYS Math Exam today for a small group of my students today, most former ELL students. I made them name tags with random lets-ace-this-test type titles (ie: math ninja, the fraction in lowest terminator, the human calculator, mathosaurus, and one that said, "I eat math for breakfast"). I was "The Procta." It is always fun to see what kids do with the things you give them--humans are great! One student--labeled "mathtose intolerant" -- wore his name tag across his forehead. Another, the "cool kid," didn't want to be the mathosaurus or wear a dorky nametag, so he put his spare pencil on the sticky side to keep it from rolling off his desk. Genius.

Stretch breaks are a fun part of testing; I tend to try to fake them out a bit to get their brain switched on :)

To indicate time and help them pace, every 30 minutes I would distribute a chocolate kiss to each of them. Some wait to eat their candy until they are done, others pounce on it like they haven't eaten. They build stuff out of their kiss wrappers :) Some kids use their name tags to affix thier rulers to their desks. Some kids are very methodical with the maerials on tehir desks--line them up "just so"--while others make designs with the materials. They can't draw or read after they finish, so they use whatever is on their desk to entertain themselves. Some fidget, some stare, some chew on stuff, others diddle with their protractors. I love people watching, and even more so love to watch these kids of mine. I love think about the people they will become one day and to see the promise each one of them has. I just really want to somehow show them...I want them to recognize it.

A young man I go to grad school with was 99% sure he wasn't going to teach last week, then last night on the train he said he suddenly realized that he shouldn't be so disgruntled with the flawed and fractured system we work for, and that the day to day stuff shouldn't be so bad, but that "it's kind of about the kids." ...KIND OF? I'm not quite sure what draws people to teaching, since the whole focus is, um, people and educating PEOPLE, but hey, at least he had the epiphany...better late than never. He is hoping to coach basketball next year, which I think will be great for both him and his students. These kids are like that lost jewelry in the sand on the beach, and us crazy teachers are supposed to be the ones with the metal detectors seeking to find and resurrect each and every one. Then polish and send out in all their glorious splendor. I really hate teaching, but I love these kids. Maybe I'll do one more year :)

Sometimes it is no wonder God loves us people so much. We're kinda neat. But then again He made us this way :)

Snobbishness: Denied

2011-05-11T16:48:00.000-07:00

I met an individual fairly recently who, through conversation and acute observation, appears to be cut from identical piece of fabric as myself--and even sewn into a similar something-or-other. Singularly uninteresting if you aren't me, I understand, but this individual has a remarkable sense of superiority that has baffled me since our earliest meetings. My initial behavior was entirely embarrassing so first impression was not so hot, I get that, but since, there has been a lingering snobbishness and condescension in most of our conversations. There is no grace, just judgement. For EVERYTHING it feels like. It's really not important, I just found myself thinking about today. We don't see each other often, thankfully, but it is a little intriguing to have someone who is CLEARLY no "better" than me, simply more confident, act in such a way. I kind of want to wave my hand sometimes and declare that we are so identical it's ridiculous and that this behavior is even more so, but it'd be a waste. It'd just fuel the ego, methinks.

Some people just refuse to recognize that the same two hands carefully fashioned all of us. I, of course, get that air of superiority sometimes, but it still is so weird to be so blatantly the brunt of it--and when the two of us are so alike. I'm baffled that we have never been friends, merely living somewhat parallel, but thankful because who wants a punk like that to call compadre? We have a couple or three mutual friends, and they have actually remarked on our similarities, but I just shake my head and shrug my shoulders. Initially it played on my insecurities, but praise the Lord it doesn't anymore. I still have a paper to write, just had to note the oddity. Perplexing.

HOT MESS!!

2011-05-09T12:21:00.000-07:00

Update from the cave. I am working hard on my thesis--trying to get it finished today (in 4 hours to be exact)--so my ADD has kicked in like whoa. Caffeine? Been there. Nap? Done that. Just gotta keep working at it and not let myself get mad for straying elsewhere...Like here, for example:

Loveliness for Sale

2011-05-06T20:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not a big spender: I love bargains, thrift shopping, and clearance racks. Second hand? Yes, please! I haven't ever needed shiny new or had that moment where I walked by a store window and was halted by what I saw--until today--Atempo, upper west side, 70's in weather and blocks, and a dress. It struck me in a way that is almost shameful for a material thing to strike someone but it was the most beautiful dress; delicate, almost a flower, wispy, and elegant. And pale pink :) Not like baby girl room pale pink, but the kind with a little mauve in it, too. I had to walk back by and take a picture so I could post it. I don't have to have it I guess(I'm sure it's expensive), but I sure would like to try it on :) I can't wait to design jewelry for stuff like this...

I wish you could see it right side up, but I'm too lazy to figure out how to rotate it without having to turn off my computer (it's complicated and frivolous to explain...). Love it, love it, love it!

This Just In

2011-05-02T19:41:00.001-07:00

Holy crap I'm afraid of criticism...I walk in defeat (of sorts) because I care too much what others think. Who cares? I do...wow.

I was reading an article and it referred to Moses being called to lead his people out of Egypt and Moses actually argued with God at his appointment:

Moses said to God, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt ... O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue … O Lord, please send someone else to do it" (Ex. 3:11, 4:10, 13).

Um, I'm sorry, God picked you, obviously you are capable! But he was afraid of criticism--I'm assuming, that's what it looks like to me--he let what other people thought override what God not thought, but knew! Dork. I do the same thing though. I was thinking about how often I beg God to "send me," so much so that I even practice responding with, "here I am" just in case He calls my name (who's the dork now, ay?), and I realized that if He said to up and go RIGHT NOW I wouldn't do it. I'd cling to my near complete degree, I'd cling to my students and stable job(my paycheck)...because I wouldn't want to be criticized.

Wow.

God I'm sorry! Help me shift my perspective and my values from my own understanding to YOUR understanding. Help me realize daily that this life, my whole existence, is for YOUR works and not for my own machinations. You order my steps Lord, not me.

Hay-men.

:)

Master's Project: Research? DISCOVERY!

2011-05-02T19:38:00.000-07:00

Chocolate covered coffee beans? Christian crack.

Must...stay...awake...can't stop dancing...and pacing and jumping and typing really fast...

*tweak*

lol

Lord...

Oh, Royalty!

2011-04-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

Oh I just watched the "Royal Wedding" on youtube and I am so giddy--like literally giggling. How neat it must be to be a PRINCESS!! I NEVER thought I'd want that, not ever, but omigoodness it must be instilled in us from God Himself for us women to want that. I am in shock at my reaction. Picture this: me curled up on my bed, staring at my laptop with hands clasped and breathless... RIDICULOUS! Lol...I love it...

A friend and I were discussing self worth the other day and the theme of self-worth have been heavily on my heart lately. One young lady discussed having a "friend" try to sleep with her because he knew, and audaciously STATED, that they might as well because he knew she was heart broken over another guy...douche, er I mean, *cough*... The thing I found so beautiful in her story was not that she told him no, but that she a) declared her value and b) the look across her face that emanated from her soul... it was new to see herself this way and it was Jesus. Sometimes beauty is utterly intensified by merely valuing something...how much more so when it is a person...and one's self.

As I watched that wedding, it resonated clearly because I, too, am a princess...already born of a King...no wedding necessary! This precious, tiny Princess Kate...we are sisters in Christ, Daughters of God. I am not being a creeper, I don't necessarily care to ever know this young lady whom I am sure is lovely... I just mean that I am a princess, too :) The humbling power in that statement is profound. I am a direct reflection of my Father...I am responsible for that which He has entrusted to me...and I am called to do it with honor, integrity, and grace. What a motivator! Today our English teacher and I took my students on a field trip and we discussed the word 'ambition;' my lot in life is what I will pursue recklessly and in faith--that is my ambition. What freedom there is in knowing that in all situations, you are protected by the Hand of God, by the bloodline of the Creator. On any quest a prince could be sent upon, he could go in confidence because he knew what support he had waiting at home and the safety net he had beneath him. He trusted that all would be okay; no risk was too great. He had want for nothing. What freedom. As I've been awkwardly and indirectly honing my understanding of my life's focus...I've discovered, I think, that freedom is the undertone of all I will do. I could be wrong, and if I'm not I don't think it will be necessarily so straight forward; but yes, freedom. I'll have to elaborate on that after I graduate. If I graduate. I'll graduate.

I'm a princess and I love it. Talk about a perspective on your worth and purpose.

The Most Lackadaisical Panic Attack You'll Ever Read

2011-04-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

If you've ever read my blog, talked to me, or seen my facebook pictures, you know that I love my dog more than is probably healthy. A LOT. I got her from a pound when she was a day shy of 7 weeks and have loved her ever since. She is utterly precious to me. Unbeknownst to me, God had lots of moves in the cards for me, none of which I felt were fair for her, so I moved her in with family frequently to take care of her when I felt I couldn't due to school or work. Africa, Baton Rouge, New York and none of them ended up being a perfect fit for her, so when her comfort/best interest was compromised, I'd pass her along. When she came to the city she HATED it. She is very skittish so NYC was sensory overload--she loathed going to the bathroom(ran straight there and straight back), stopped playing with other dogs, and would wait days before I could get her to go outside to actually use the bathroom (literally). My mother offered to take her so I drove her all the way from New York to Louisiana. That invitation frustratingly and unexpectedly ran out so I drove and met her in South Carolina to get her to adjust to my aunt, uncle, and cousins. Well, she is skittish as I mentioned and never adjusted to my baby cousin. He is rambunctious and she never adjusted, so ended up biting him. Her birthday is next month and she'll be six. Never in her whole life had she bitten anyone before. Breaks my heart. I need a miracle in this because the thought of her getting put down makes me want to die a little bit. You know that look of a frantic mother whose child is in some precarious situation, say stuck on railroad tracks, and the sound of her shrieks and cries when she just totally flips out--that is how I feel inside. With my step dad in the ER, my brother's mother incessantly texting and calling, moving, this semester and all the final assignments due soon (including my Master's Project), and, oh yeah, my job all sitting on me at once, I am just kind of numb. My sanity is hanging on by a thread, but you know what they say: when you get to the edge of your rope, tie a knot, hang on, and swing! I feel like I've spent the last two years swinging... but God is good and teaching me so much about myself. He's strengthening me and preparing me for something huge, I just have to be faithful and obedient in the midst of all this. This is all the enemy trying to distract me, from it, and I'll admit he was, for a while, successful, but I have to finish strong. The little girl in me is half dying for my prince charming to come in and rescue me; save me from having to finish and whisk me away to some exotic place for mission work and thus give me an excuse to mosey on. But alas, that will not happen. That same little girl secretly hopes said prince charming will discover I have a blog, read this post, look up the shelter that has my princess locked up, and secretly adopt her so we can have her when we're married.

Ha.

Said prince charming has no clue this blog exists and most probably doesn't have any machinations to make me his bride. But little girl knows this and kind of doesn't care; we just want my dog back. I cried like a baby when I left her; I feel like I am a failure and my heart is set for euthanasia. God is faithful, though. She will get a family or I will go get her. Sometime. Maybe after May 16 when my paper is due. But she only has two weeks. God is faithful. God is faithful. God is faithful. He gave me the dog and I don't believe this is how He'll take her. I admit I suck as a mother, quite on accident, but she's not going to get put down. Call me melodramatic for being so adamant about a dog, but I don't care. I freaking love my dog.

My dog. What an understatement.

Faces of New York

2011-04-23T21:47:00.000-07:00

I want to start writing blogs to profile the wonderful people I meet here in the city and in my many adventures :) It never ceases to brighten my day when I get to talk with a stranger. I've met musicians, businessmen, and people from all over the world. Once on a train I met a man whose name I forgot who was in his 80's and still working, though basically just for fun. He told me about his travels, his broken marriage, ex wife and best friend and how time works everything out. There is the night shift custodian from Barbados who works at night because he just can't sleep. He said since he was a boy he never slept at night and in Barbados growing up he'd fashion a ladder and sneak out at night. His parents never knew, but he'd sneak out and roam through the forests near his house. He said there were legends of ghosts and spirits that came out at night, but he still went any way. He told me he loved cleaning my room because it was always so nice and nice smelling. He said, "You keep control of your kids because when I come in here the floors are so clean! I never have to mop!" I love people. There is Sheri, who is a musician (amazing) who shared my perspective on the unifying power of music. We are about a year overdue for coffee :) Uvi from down the hall is from Israel but a random encounter in the elevator led to a walk to the park and the discovery that he lived in a town in Louisiana near me for a while. The world really is quite small. The more people I meet, the more I see how amazingly diverse and beautiful God is. Each and every person has good that manifests itself in a unique way, and each manifestation is yet another facet of God because He is all things good. The artistry in every face and heart that passes by...spectacular...just as Omar, a former professor I met in Central Park recently (who is presently homeless but writing a book none the less), would say, "you never know who you pass by." By this he meant, don't judge a man until you know what he's been through. Excellent moral. But these people, I love their stories, I love their singularity, I love how they reflect our Maker. So I'll keep talking to people but I'll work a little harder to show the REAL New York, the population, in blurbs here. God is good, Mungu ni MWEMA!

Kwaheri kwa sasa :)

Beloved

2011-04-23T17:38:00.001-07:00

As the day progressed and I got less and less done, as plans changed and bad news squatted on me like a dog in the park, I cracked. I was so angry, flustered, volatile. "God what is next?" I demanded, "I'm not getting married, I get that, but that isn't the end of the story, where the heck and I going and what am I doing?" I took my rings off. Not to deny my promises or recant faith, but to show Him, remind HIm, what I'd said. Because He needs that, right? Chuh. I put them back on quickly and just laid there and cried. I couldn't even read my Bible. Somewhere in between my silent tirade and having a cow I managed to wake up my roommate, so I got up to shower before I interfered too much more with her nap (that poor girl has witnessed so much of my failure, she is a saint). In the shower I continued my griping--none of it was AT God but it kind of was; I fully acknowledged that I was irritated with ME, but somehow He was catching the flack. I turned the water on hot. I fumed at the ceiling tiles, gestured wildly as I ranted, and am utterly grateful I was hidden from all eyes but God's. "God I see my flaws, but where is that ladle You use to scoop them out with? You are purifying me, fabulous, I feel the heat, but why can't I feel anything else? I want to surrender my everything to You, but I can't unclench my hands to give it away. I'm so dead rigor mortis has stiffened my fingers." I curled up in a fetal position in the tub and let the water rain down on me. "God wash it all away. I repent." I didn't intend for the overlap in literal and figurative, but was too disgruntled to appreciate the irony. I laid there and plugged my ears so they wouldn't fill with water and just listened to the sounds of the water and my breath; thankfully, a semblance of peace. "God, I'm sorry, I just want to do better." I couldn't shake the cynicism, it was so painfully not my nature; God is good, a fact I've always embraced, so it was beyond me why He was suddenly the target of my angst. It wasn't Him and I knew it.

I got out and realized I was extremely dehydrated. I resolved to walk 7 blocks to the duane reade and get a bottle of water. I don't mind tap, but I had to get out of the house. Hotdog, the rudely awakened roomie, didn't want to go, but it worked out because I needed to get her a card anyway. I walked slowly, I know I looked lost, but I kind of was. I knew where the store was, I knew what the street was, but I didn't know where I was. Right as I got there I realized it was closed. Fabulous. Still thirsty, I pressed on. I look like a bum, hair in a raggedy, soppy bun, no make up, sweats, and a glistening flush from the hot of my overcoat. So sexy. I didn't care. I kept walking and hurting, but began to soften. I resolved to make my Hotdog an Easter basket and get my other roommate a Starbucks card for moving everybody. I wandered into a flower shop and slowly past every flower stand on the way down Madison. Those things are my favorite. Hands down. Sidewalk heaven. I began to soften, thankfully, as I wandered in and out of the stores to complete my mission. I passed boutiques and fancy restaurants...I don't need to make lots of money to be happy; I don't want to even; I want to live to do as much as I can for others. I'm lost without it. Some very refined looking people walked out of Paola right as I had these thoughts and I didn't envy them. I don't want money, I want fruit. I'm okay with rice and beans. As I passed the boutiques with the beautiful fashions in the windows I realized that I want to is create beautiful things. I don't have to buy them, but maybe one day I will have my own art for sale. It would be lovely to hone my skills. It isn't time, I suppose. I want to create beautiful things... I want to see beautiful things...

...I want to become a beautiful thing.

Once I found enough to fill my non-existent basket, I waited to catch the bus. It never ceases to amaze me how confounded people look in this city when you smile politely and say hello. It made me feel better to see an older gentleman's look of consternation soften when we made eye contact and I greeted him. A group of ladies who had boarded the bus with me were talking about a young lady, apparently a daughter of their friend Joyce. "She is one of the most generous people you will ever meet," they said, "but you never want to cross her, she has the sharpest tongue, even sharper than Joyce." How beautiful to be described as one of the most generous people. I always wonder what people say about me when I'm not around. Then again maybe I don't want to know.

The bus inched along and I felt so still, thank You, Lord, maybe I just needed to throw my little tantrum to get it out. I wonder if I'd do that with a husband if I were to get married? Would he understand? And it hit me. I am in relationship...the ring, the promise, that phrase period, it all came together so beautifully and abruptly that my eyes welled with tears. I'd struggled with figuring out what that meant "to be in relationship with Jesus" for the longest time and here it was. Lord, I love you...I am utterly and totally in love with You. I had longed for His arms for so long, and here finally I felt them. I felt my forehead fall to His chest and felt that blessed release as I passed myself fully into His embrace. He understood. I fought, He forgave. He knows me fully and completely, has seen my rear end and weakness, and loves me in my entirety anyway. Jesus I will be Yours forever. For as long as You hold me I am Yours. I just want to be Yours. I surrender my heart and my desires to Your Will. It is still hard to let go of all I pictured in my head, but I trust You to paint it all better than I ever could. I fear being alone, always remind me You are right here. Please don't let me go ever...scoop me forever and ever, Lord. Adventures? Yes. Let's. Forever? Yes. Let's.

"Blessed is she who believes that what he Lord has told her will be accomplished." Luke 1:45
"I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley." Song of Songs 2:1
"For your Maker is your husband--the LORD Almighty is his name--the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth." Isaiah 54:5
"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."" Isaiah 30:21

I believe. K, now I have to go make an Easter basket.

Eff

2011-04-23T13:32:00.000-07:00

My mom just informed me that my step dad is in the ER and is being admitted to rehab. Last night I got the call I dreaded from my uncle that my dog bit my little cousin (she is terrified of him) and that that they can't keep her. So, after a long trek there, and a huge amount of money, we have to ship her again. This time hopefully to Colorado for good, but if that doesn't work, then she is just gonna go to another family there. Talk about distraction. I just spent a whole week doing nothing, and not the good kind of nothing, the kind of nothing where you are running around TRYING to get stuff done and none of it manages to work out. Awesome. So I'm still stressed, fruitless, and tired. I hate being at the mercy of other people. I really do. I have been doing this fast to figure out what to do next and just realized today how hard I am running from God. Fleeing from that which you seek; If that isn't a wee bit paradoxical I don't know what is. I think He might make me teach again next year...I really don't want to, but I also don't want to do anything. I am so tired I don't know how to think. Hence, my wasted week. I am ashamed to say as much as I love my life, I somehow simultaneously hate it...it's not what I want to do but I don't know what is. I'm not dead, I'm not hungry, I have more money than I need, to survive, I have housing, I am employed in a field where I can plant seeds(great pun), I am not in a dangerous situation, and I have my health. Why am I so damned whiney? Because I'm a spoiled pain in the ass, that's why.

I quit.

Again.

There is some piece to me that is missing and I can't figure out what it is or where to find it. Lord knows I don't have time to look.

As my old roomie Bosch used to sing, Jesus take the wheel.

Fasting in Slow Motion

2011-04-21T12:03:00.000-07:00

I believe it is quite oxymoronic that fasting is called what it is...it might just be the slowest process ever...

I want a cup of coffee but I can't have any until sunday. I feel like all I've done is fasted this year. All I want is what God has for me, and I believe it will be great, but I am so weak as a person I feel. I can't even make myself run anymore. Not just because my body is out of shape, we are genetically predisposed to run regardless of training I've found, I just don't want to. I walk, but I hate walking because it is so slow. I can't get my inside my head voice to shut the hell up. Haven't heard God in a long time. His voice is the only one I want to hear. All I can think about is me. Its like I have tunnel vision but I can turn my head--sometimes I'm obsessed with a man (gag me, temporary insanity), other times my body, other times myself, other times....I DON'T CARE I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT I AM SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY LIFE AND WHAT MY NEXT STEPS ARE! I DONT WANT TO CARE ABOUT MYSELF IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS I JUST WANT TO DO GOD'S WILL--I HAVE TO LOVE ME TO LOVE ANYBODY ELSE AND I HAVE TO LOSE ME IN ORDER TO GET THERE. I CAN'T LET MYSELF GO AND IT'S DISGUSTING. I just want to get lost in service to others and my Jesus...just when I think I've hidden my trail I round a corner and there I am, standing in my way.

I quit me.

When I went for a walk, while praying I got this big lump inside. I feel like all my imperfections and sins and ickiness within me coagulate behind that center dip in my clavicle... somewhere there under my neck. When I'm in worship, when I pray, when I sit in a service...I feel it, something I'm not letting go of, but can't figure out what the crap it is...Lord take it, I don't want it, surgically remove it, I'll get your scalpel--or hacksaw--whatever it is you want to use, just rid me of it. I want my passion and drive back, or You can replace it with something bigger and better, just do something with this big mess that I am. Restore focus, motivate me, give me VISION, give me grace, and last but most importantly, scoop me up. I can't live like this without Your voice. I love You more than anything here on earth and I'd really rather die than not have You. This is me on my face.

I'm done.

Potsherds

2011-04-19T05:07:00.001-07:00

Present state of affairs, that may or may not be more information than I need to share, but nobody reads this anyway (lol). I’m sitting on our couch by the window in the closest thing to silence you can find in New York. Our lease is up here on the 30th and I’m a little sad, to be honest. Kinda way sad. Half the roomies are gone, half are in bed, and here I am with the rare special treat of getting the whole living room to myself. I’d love to dance or do yoga, but I like the stillness. I just want to be still.

This morning I spent hours on accident researching next steps and life plans, but I really just want to know what God has for me. I’m tired, so tired in fact I don’t really even have the mental stamina to dream, so the morning ended up more daunting than I expected. This, too, shall pass. After all that I went for a jog with Hotdog, one of my favorite people ever. What an encouraging friend I have in that girl. She deserves her own blog post.

I arrived an hour late to a library date with a friend then had to leave early due to a tax dilemma. Hated that, but I couldn’t make myself move any faster (which she understood). As I sat in the tax office my step dad called. We just talked yesterday, too, so I was surprised. I love this man, a lot, and I have cried and prayed and prayed and wept over his soul less than none other but one (Charlie, years ago). He doesn’t know the Lord, and according to him, doesn’t want to. He respects “my faith,” the faith I share with my brother, his son, but stands firm in there being no God. He’ll tell you he read five pages of why He’s not real. Despite this, my step dad really is one of the nicest people ever. He loves his kids more than anything on earth and does his best. He and I were at odds as I grew up. He had strict, arbitrary rules and I had a mom who recognized I didn’t need them because I’m me; needless to say, he resented me. Oh well. We talked about it once on the porch years after I moved out and he told me how much and why and for what and all that, and the beauty of my fractured family began to emerge.

My third year of college mom called me with news that he had a girlfriend. He and mom were still married. Fast forward 2 years and they are recently divorced, both seeing people they were seeing and/or friends with while they married. Classy. Makes me sick, but I don’t judge, just cringe. Fast forward to my graduation day. After the ceremony I had dinner with my brother and him. My mom had come to the ceremony, too and they all sat together, my little family, because they are amazing like that. No grudges, just love and acceptance of circumstances. [side note: I’m amazed at how much I’m crying as I write this, I love these crazy people so much, my Lord I’m blessed] At dinner my brother went to the bathroom and my step dad informed me that his girlfriend, who is my age plus a couple years, was pregnant, crazy and no longer talking to him. And it was his. Amazing. He was beside himself. Fifty, divorced, kid in high school, and no money to afford a second kid and a jobless chick half his age. We didn’t hear from her again for 10 months.

I’ve posted before about this precious blessing of a child, whom I love and claim as my brother (he will always be my brother), so I won’t tell the story again. Since the divorce, my step dad recently lost our house. He tried, but had to let it go (cost more than he could pay single). He moved in with his gf, who is bipolar and unstable, so it wasn’t long before he moved out. And became homeless. The gf smokes pot around my brother (he’s a year old…), has fits where she breaks glass stuff on the floor, and has a history of violence with her family (she has injured both her parents and grandparents). Despite this, the state of Texas requires that a mother must be witnessed injuring her child before he can be taken away. Brilliant.

My step dad is alcoholic. He is not perfect, nor does he claim to be, but when it came to my brother, he was great; especially for my brother—he’d die for that kid. This all being said, he went to rehab, cleaned up, and got his act together for my new brother. He was in and out of her place until it got too bad to stay and he left. Sometimes he stays at work I think, other times he stays at our old house even though it doesn’t have any water or electricity, and the rest of the time he stays at my mom’s. Ma stays with her fiancé, who, praise God, has a heart for my brother’s plight.

Fast forward to yesterday and I hear more on the girlfriend, who began rehab for her drug problem, but was bailed out by her mom. Awesome. Because that’s what she needs, an enabler. Enabling her to what? Be a better mother, right? I shouldn’t be cynical, but I’m severely struggling with giving grace. I tend to err in the opposite direction, forgiving to the point of getting walked on and dismissed constantly, but this girl irks my soul. I pray for her tons and KNOW God can work through this stuff, but I find myself disgusted with her. She tells me he’s “too old” and that she is going to “kill him” for this that and the other; she insults my mother and brother relentlessly; she abuses my step dad; she endangers my baby brother. She is utterly and totally broken. She needs love and an exorcism. I am so distraught that I cannot bring myself to supply the former. It literally breaks my heart and has proven to be severely distracting.

I can’t even sit still to write this.

Today’s call was heart wrenching, though, as per usual, I didn’t notice ‘til later. He went to our old house to lay in the back yard in the sun (we have a great little backyard), something he has done my whole life. He called to tell me about our cat Ginger Ale, who has lived all alone in the house in the year he has been gone; he said she is still the big, fat, sweet kitty she has always been. She’ll be 11 on Easter Sunday. He said the back door won’t stay shut (Louisiana has issues with foundations and settling, once things shift the house goes crooked) so he regularly has to take out dead birds that come in and get stuck. Or caught by the cat.

As a child I had the weirdest fear, but I was terrified that one day I would wake up and my family would be dead. I’d cry at the thought of losing them, and I must admit, remnants of the fear linger when I think of him in that empty house. I don’t know why, maybe it’s his health, maybe it’s the 10 year old in me, but it hurts so much to think of him in such a state of poverty. The ironic thing about all of this is that these aren’t “trashy” folk who you’d scrounge up under a rock; girlfriend included, they are college educated, beautiful, intelligent and funny.

Before I moved to New York I went home to help him clean out the garage. He’d already sold a lot of my stuff in garage sales I found, and let her pick through what she wanted. It’s just stuff. After I moved to the city I came home separately for two different funerals and managed to help out as much as I could then, too. One day, I won’t forget this, he had his hands on our open garage door and he stopped and looked at me and said, “thank you. I really mean it.” I asked him why he was thanking me and he told me, “for being you.”

It amazes me how things are so uncertain. How drastically things change in life. My family, once a cracked pot, now ceramic shards littering the ground. A snapshot of that house a decade ago, say around 5:30 on a Monday, his day off:

I am walking up to the house from track practice, my knees are taped up with ice that is half melted and soaking my shoes. I stink. Step dad is in the backyard laying out and my little brother is watching tv. Mom pulls up from work and gets her stuff to go to the gym. Honestly I don’t really remember much from living there. I don’t have a single memory of coming home and seeing my brother. I don’t know what he did. He might have been at the neighbor’s house. But never did I ever expect it to be the site of such suburban tragedy. It was a proverbial mess when I lived there, but in a subtle, silent kind of way. Filled with love and, as Chopin penned it, 2500 square feet of quiet desperation. Mom wanted out, so did I, and poor little brother was angry and literally balding from stress.

I could go on and on, about step dad’s sickness (he was very rarely drunk when I grew up—he only smoked and drank on the weekends) that required medicine that people often commit suicide while taking (the statistics are ridiculous); he slept on the couch for years and we’d often find him, a skeletal shadow of the man my mother married, in his underwear, wrapped in a blanket, rocking back in forth on the edge of his chair watching tv. I could talk for days on all this crap, but it is pointless. God is bigger than all of it. He, this man who overcame aforementioned illness twice and worked all the while to support us, this man who loves his sons more than himself, is subject to sleeping wherever he can. He has no permanent place to lay his head. He is alone. He is broken. He is a child of God.

And there is nothing I can do but pray. I pray that he is scooped up by God the Father, I have prayed for it for so long, but I know God is faithful. He saved my brother, who is a stellar young man who attends church and serves the Lord, and I know He is faithful to do the same with my step dad. I am desperate for this man to know the love and peace of Christ. I hear him say he is nothing, that he is disgusting, and it crushes my heart—he can laugh as he says it, he is wonderfully funny and has a good heart, he is jolly, complete with twinkling blue eyes. Lord I pray You give him your arms…God I pray he falls into them. Move him, encounter him, protect him, give him new beginnings, God. Let him come to know you, Jesus.
You are the Almighty Healer, God, Heal him, Lord. Scoop him. Amen

ADELE! I LOVE THIS SONG!

2011-04-18T09:38:00.000-07:00

"Melt My Heart To Stone"

Right under my feet there's air made of bricks
Pulls me down turns me weak for you
I find myself repeating like a broken tune
And I'm forever excusing your intentions
And I give in to my pretendings
Which forgive you each time
Without me knowing
They melt my heart to stone

And I hear your words that I made up
You say my name like there could be an us
I best tidy up my head I'm the only one in love
I'm the only one in love

Each and every time I turn around to leave
I feel my heart begin to burst and bleed
So desperately I try to link it with my head
But instead I fall back to my knees
As you tear your way right through me
I forgive you once again
Without me knowing
You've burnt my heart to stone

And I hear your words that I made up
You say my name like there could be an us
I best tidy up my head I'm the only one in love
I'm the only one in love

Why do you steal my hand
Whenever I'm standing my own ground
You build me up, then leave me dead

Well I hear your words you made up
I say your name like there should be an us
I best tidy up my head I'm the only one in love
I'm the only one in love

Introspectacle

2011-04-11T08:47:00.000-07:00

I love life!!! A few things I have discovered in my recent existence:

There is no true complete freedom (except in Jesus Christ).
-Nutshell/example: Financial freedom often means one is bound by a job; one free from a job is bound by financial freedom. In literal bondage circumstances where there is no freedom, Jesus is the only way to be elevated from the circumstance, a point which I'll elaborate upon at a later date.

-I have failed to value people lately and have consequently become very insecure with 99.999% of them. (I've forgotten how to be human)

-I have had an obnoxiously, irritatingly unshakable crush on a man (well, he's getting there) who I know at this moment doesn't really even like me. Part of me sees every day that he doesn't desire to be a part of my life or to be part of mine. Part of me knows that he wouldn't value me if he had me (boy does he have an ego right now). Part of me knows he won't ever be interested. Part of me also knows there doesn't seem to be anyone else on earth that is more perfect for him than me; this isn't arrogance, just observation. Part of me knows God has lots to do on the both of us before it could ever happen. Part of me knows unless executed in just the right way it wouldn't last. Part of me knows this whole paragraph is ridiculous and a ploy to avoid my paper some more (heh) so I'll tally up all parts for a conclusion: I have no idea what will happen with all of it, and frankly, I don't care and I'm embarrassed I ever noticed I like him. What a waste of time! He is amazing, but i'm pretty neat, too, so if he doesn't see it, well, that doesn't devalue me(that'd be kind of like saying a sapphire should cost less because someone prefers rubies). Ha, God is so much bigger than this...I'm gonna move on to my thesis...

-I want to live life BIG. And then, even BIGGER. What impact can I --have I--make/made in my life span? Did I love on enough people? Was my focus on me or other people? I'm hoping the latter largely outweighs the former...

-I will find a way to grow food and improve sanitation in poor urban communities in Africa. I will spread the love of Jesus. I will be off this flippin' continent by next summer.

-I will love. Every day. Pride on the altar. With every ounce of me that I can squeeze out.

I am quite joyfully not my own. HALLELUJAH!! < 3

Afrikids Or Something Like That

2011-03-30T17:00:00.000-07:00

I love my students. More than I ever thought was humanly possible, actually. As they leave at the end of the day I find myself wanting to scoop up the whole group and hug them all all once. My heart swells with pride and joy as they beat on my door window and wave wildly on their way out. To be honest, they drive me nuts, don't turn in their homework 80% of the time, and harldy pay attention in class...I really do sometimes wonder why they make me so proud if I look at it from an outsider's perspective, but when I ponder these people, these little people that God has put me in charge of, I can't help but see glimmers of what He is up to in them. They are His. This is why I love them so much. The streaks of beauty in their souls, the innocent joy in their laughter, the adorable awkwardness of adolescence...they are creative, intelligent, capable, precious little wads of canvas that I am determined to stretch and paint upon. I was selfishly lamenting the sparse to non-existent amount of time I have for myself recently and found myself missing dance and painting and clay..."I have no creative outlet" I griped...but God pointed out something that kinda makes me want to cry as I type this. My canvas is my students. I get to help build them and paint aspirations of greatness on their hearts. God I just want to expose them to the world, and You, and inspire them to pursue life relentlessly...and to show them how wonderful they are. I get so angry at them when they are lazy because I see what they are squelching, but afterward I get mad at me for not making them realize their own greatness beforehand. I really have no idea how to do what I am doing and lately I have been so agitated that I've lost focus. I've been mean, aggressive, contradictory, selfish, short, egotistical, and negative. Yuck. The cause? No clue, but all the nastiness in my soul is coming to the surface--Lord get it OUT of me because I don't like it. Thank You for showing me Lord because all you are doing is making me more real and better able to give and receive grace. God I repent of my mean and lift up my students to You...You know how much I love them, God. Help me do right by these kids, Your precious pieces of art.

Lately I've been staying really late trying to get my work done--the more I do the more I see I haven't done...this job is so massive! But I love it and I see where I can improve for next year. Next year. Eee. I have found an amazing internship opportunity for which I am going to apply...in Kenya. Part of me wants to go so desperately that I literally ache to pack my bags (okay so I might already be stockpiling and mentally preparing what to take), but it literally made me cry walking to work thinking about telling them I had to go.

They'd feel abandoned. And I know they wouldn't believe that I actually cared about them.

I am torn. Despite my love for my kids and my strong desire improve my performance, I still get daunted at the prospect of another year of day to day to day to day to day times 180...this is a slow, hard job. Africa has been my heart for decades now (omigosh...) and here is a chance. But I love New York so much... Oi vei...

God knows...

Lord I give this whole situation to You. Honestly, it's a win-win for me but You know what is best. A year is a blip in the scheme of things but an eternity in the midst; guide my steps according to Your Will and speak LOUD AND CLEAR. Close doors I shouldn't walk through and throw me through the ones meant for me. I love You. Thank you for my chitlins and all this butt-kicking You have dished out, as well. In Your beautiful Son's name I pray, Amen <3

The Peach Yogurt Dance

2011-03-07T11:10:00.000-08:00

Omigaw this is freaking ridiculously, utterly, and totally cute. In video are my Mom, Karl, and sweet baby Elliot. Camera work by brudder Anthony.

Lady Antebellum When You Gotta Good Thing

2011-03-05T10:20:00.001-08:00

Everybody keeps telling me I'm such a lucky man,
Looking at you standing there I know I am.
Barefooted beauty with eyes that blue, sunshine sure looks good on you, I swear.

Oh I can't believe I finally found ya baby,
Happy ever after after all this time.
Oh there's gonna be some ups and downs,
But with you to wrap my arms around, I'm fine.

Chorus:
So baby hold on tight, and don't let go.
Hold on to the love we're making,
Cause baby when the ground starts shaking you gotta know,
When you got a good thing.

Verse 2:
You know you keep on bringing out the best in me,
And I need you now even more than the air I breathe.

You can make me laugh when I wanna cry,
This will last forever I just know. I know.

Chorus:
So baby hold on tight, and don't let go.
Hold on to the love we're making,
Cause baby when the ground starts shaking you gotta know,
When you got a good thing.

Bridge:
We got a good thing baby, woah.

So hold on tight, baby don't let go.
Hold on to the love we're making,
Cause baby when the ground starts shaking you gotta know,
Oh you gotta know, oh you gotta know, you gotta know,
When you got a good thing.

Created: Tudesday, July 20, 2010 8:57:48 PM ET

2011-02-12T18:45:00.000-08:00

Stickie on my desktop I discovered today :)

I want my kids to understand how live life on purpose and equip them to do so. How did I survive my first year and still come out sounding so idealistic? Lol...

I Had a Thought

2011-02-09T04:12:00.000-08:00

You can only know someone so far as they'll let you in. Simple and a wee bit profound, but I've been in circumstances where I was in an extremely close situation only to find after I never really knew the individual at all.

Hm.

Hymn

2011-02-08T19:06:00.000-08:00

Okay, Ms. Supreme Geek here has a song for her funeral...and every other amazing occasion one could have in life. This song embodies exactly what I want my life to be by the end--it moves my spirit in a way that my body just can't do justice. I'll be good enough one day, though, to dance it... I know it...either way, this song says everything, fully and completely, that I hope my life says by the time I complete all these lovely, God-given adventures....

And it hasn't any words.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U5NQZod5C0

Perdy, huh?

:)

I Can Relate...But You Didn't Ask Me

2011-02-08T18:38:00.000-08:00

Last night was such a weird night, I came home from class entirely wired, ate chocolate which didn't help, and watched part of the bachelor (which added to the nausea from the chocolate)...me? Really? Up that late on a school night? I am SUCH grandma, and I love my bed, but last night I couldn't get to sleep until about 3. I was half worried about a friend, whom i prayed for and harped on mentally for much longer than I thought possible, then went on to dream about him. I haven't written poetry in months, gosh I miss it, but ended up with a few fragments about it all...nothing spectacular but I'm thankful for anything to come out of my pen these days. A friend and I were talking about him and both settled into our conclusions that he is running hard from something, though we could only speculate as to what. His character SEEMS amiss, though I hesitate to say that--I think he is still him(heart and all)--just missing part of his soul and running from what he knows he's meant for. Hence the wandering. Hence the searching. Hence the running. And he knows is.

I wasn't surprised to hear my brain forming all my thoughts into a series of haikus--surprise, ay? I love those things :) Anyway, here are a few bits of the unfinished piece:

Running like hell, you're
caged in concrete, runnin'
from the chase you say. Indeed.

Your destiny is chasing
you down, you can't say yes
so you just leave town.

You shape your name and
build your songs, yet never sing
in one place too long.

As I toss sleepless
I pray for your soul to rest,
still in Jesus's arms.

Oh you wanderer
How you lust for country roads
and highways long, hard.

He waits for you and
wants you back on His path.
Destiny awaits.

You'll find no friction
on roads of flight, or time gained:
it just slips away.

Write that music, boy,
sing your songs, too; but know she,
your Destiny awaits you.

And Baby Makes 3

2011-02-08T18:27:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine just had his first child, a little boy, and it is beyond awesome how interested he is in the kid. At first it made me sad how apathetic he seemed about becoming a father (he's not one to emote, however, so I most probably read too much into his coolness), but, in class it was so neat to see his dedication to parenting.

Awesome Dad Point Winner #1: Remarks to a classmate that he had a baby boy, Tristan, who "just turned one month exactly an hour ago." Excellent.

Awesome Dad Point Winner #2: Cracks open a book about the first months of a child's existence (approximately 5 inches thick) and begins to read on breast pumps and so on and so forth. Homework. Lovely.

Awesome Dad Point Winner #3: Remarks while reading, and distractedly avoiding our assignment, "I wanna go home and play with my baybeh!" Tee hee.

I wasn't necessarily gushing over it, it is very much within his nature to research any and everything he does, but man, I hope my husband is as excited about our chitlins as he was about his new one. Very cool.

Way down the road, of course.

Fin.

Oh Santana, how I love thee...let me count the ways!

2011-02-07T20:59:00.000-08:00

Carlos Santana featuring Dave Matthews, Love of My Life

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VRQbN94mhQ

Copy. Paste. Enjoy.

You're welcome.

;)

Disclaimer: Blogger not responsible for uncontrollably shaking hips or resulting babies.

scarlet ribbon

2011-02-05T18:27:00.000-08:00

I'm posting this so I'll remember to write about the scarlet ribbon and my whole christmas experience

life is hard, God is good

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvw94I22nsg

Wanderlust

2011-02-05T18:02:00.000-08:00

I want to go to the mountains... where your soul leaves you for a chance to dance with the wind--like a child whirling and twirling--freely, uninhibited--where your spirit races, climbs the clouds, and smells like the earth, the flowers, and the sun.

Well SINCE I'm on the subject...

2011-02-05T16:10:00.000-08:00

Tee hee! I am being such a girl today, but i figured I'd tell about the cutest proposal idea ever while I'm at it :) (*note wedding post below). If you know me you know how much I love my students and school--lots and lots and lots, right? Jes. If my husband is around here, I want him to love my kids as much as I do--most of them need a godly, good man in their lives even if just to play basketball with or do homework (tis a stretch, but if he is what I think he is, he'd love it on his own). ANYWAY, I would LOVE if he got in cahoots with my administration and students and proposed at my school, how amazing would that be if the kids got to be a part of that whole thing! Ugh, so sweet, they would be so excited--they were stoked just to sing happy birthday to my roommate, I can only imagine how funny and cute they would be holding a secret in like that :)

All this being said, I kind of wonder if I am supposed to get married at all, actually. I know my life will be, well, highly unconventional, so my husband would have to have the EXACT desires as me for us to function fully in the Will of God. While fasting I prayed for husband information from teh Lord and I found I was supposed to "sacrifice my desire for a husband." At first it broke my heart because I thought it meant that I am definitely not supposed to get married, but I later realized that He just wants all of me. Maybe I will get married, maybe I won't, either way, God wants me to know and show that HE is enough. If I do have someone out there he'll have to ask God for me (because I'm His). One thing that is definitely clear to me is how little I feel--and how much I grossly underestimate His love for me, my worth to Him, and my worth in general. He constantly reminds me through the Word and throughout the day that He loves me, yet my own insecurities cause me to doubt it. I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley, and He--He loves me more than anyone else. I can't help but get excited about my future--I look at where I am now, knowing it is merely a season of preparation, and get giddy at the possibilities for what lies ahead. Lately as I've been reading God keeps bringing me to scriptures where Jesus says to ask--that when we ask nothing will be withheld from us...but I don't want to ask, at least not for specifics. I ask for wisdom, discernment, patience, and faith...anything else I could ask for would be what I want...but I just want what He wants; I'd hate to ask for the wrong thing, ju know? :) I did ask for New York, though...so glad I got it! I asked for lots of things I thought i wanted, got them, and ended up with hard learned lessons instead. Lord I want what YOU have for me--I trust You (and definitely more than I trust me!).

Looking at where I am now--in an amazing community (roommates, work, and church), working with kids I love so much I can't begin to describe, living in the greatest city ever, going to school for a master's, and meeting/seeing/doing/loving/living so much...God Your Provision is all but spoiling me! I want to learn all I can--Lord thank You for all the challenges I met here and for stretching me...thank You for the season of exponential growth and for nurturing and encouraging me all the while. Lord I love You with all my heart and soul. I rest in You, I run to You, I'll sit in Your lap forever < 3

Wedding Stuff

2011-02-05T15:18:00.000-08:00

NEVER did I ever dream about my wedding as a little kid...like ever...I was dreaming about the Serengeti and my camera...National Geographic and living ingeniously on as little as possible helping as many as possible...husbands never occurred to me (I always knew what he'd be like so it wasn't a thought, more of an understanding... why ponder something you already know, you know?). Now that all my friends are getting hitched, one of whom I'm helping with all the planning, I keep getting ideas for my own. Part of me feels a little embarrassed/awkward about being the center of attention for that long--another part is in love with the idea of just being on some adventure and deciding extemporaneously to grab a preacher, pick some flowers real quick, and knot ourselves together forever...

*sigh*

But alas, that'd tick the mom off IMMENSELY, so if I ever get married, the following is what I think would be the best stuff :) Antique dress and ring and all :) If we had a wedding registry I'd want folks to give to a travel fund or get us travel stuff...AND instead of buying us new stuff for a home, donating neat items that are useful that they want to get rid of. How much more character would our house have, right? Just a thought that obviously needs more refining.

Here is my list :)

Teapots
Burlap
Lace
Antique blue hydrangeas
Antique roses
Pearls
Mason jars
Sunflowers
Twigs, branches
Potted plants
Recycled material
Bohemian
Whimsical
Natural
Classy
Elegant
Farm
Ranch
Outside
Barefoot
Wood
Sunshiney
Sunset
Horses
Cowboy boots
Orchard
Old fence for pictures (I actually found a picture of the type of fence I had in mind--picture it a little less perfectly round though)
And the dress'd be a halter-ish top :)

Hair: http://www.projectwedding.com/blog/tag/eco-friendly-wedding-dress/

Not Mine

2011-01-30T12:30:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last months pounding reality into what I hoped it would be--seeing things that may or may not be there, listening for little bits of anything, and begging God for some answers. Of course all this mess is about a boy, go figure; I never want one but manage to always waste my time on them. I do the thing I don't want to do and never get to the things I want to do. I have known this man for years and managed him as a science experiment more or less, making startling observations and waiting, both patiently and impatiently, to put all my data into an understandable conclusion. Well my observations make way too much sense, look too much like what I thought God would give me, but the timing is off if it is. I can't help but think, "This HAS to be it" but at the same time I see things staring me in the face that attest to it not being mine. God doesn't use what we see as "making sense" just about ever. So that is a killjoy. So is the level of friendship we have. I feel like this man can TELL I see something, though I take every pain to ignore it all and hide it all. Rarely do we see each other so it can't be that obvious, but I try to be careful none-the-less. It steals my thoughts all too often. Insecurities set in and I feel as though I'm not good enough, I compare myself to other people I see and think, 'he'd want them over me'...I'm not artistic enough, I'm not a good enough dancer, I don't know enough about the Bible, I am too inconsistent with working out and/so my body isn't good enough, I have a history with boys so I'm too "unclean," I don't sing, I talk too much, I'm not sophisticated enough, I'm not athletic enough, I don't dress up, I don't have a major social life so I'm not cool enough, I don't have the perfect family life so he wouldn't want me, people don't flock to be in my presence or gush over me so he'd never notice...UGH on and on and on...gross...

I am enough.

I surrender this man to you, Lord, over and over again until You tell me his purpose in this season. Or until he walks out of it. I surrender the desires of my heart, Lord, because you deserve nothing less than all of me. Take the whole thing, actually. I'd rather walk into Your Kingdom with no heart than sacrifice You for hopes of a man that doesn't even value me. Jesus I want to look into Your eyes and be forever locked in your gaze. God your arms are the only ones I want around me~until You give me away or call me home. Give me peace in Your presence, remove this man from my mind. Forgive me for being so weak, Lord I need You to be my strength. Forgive me for second-guessing my worth, forgive me for putting a human in Your place. Lord, remind me daily that I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley, that Your love for me is beyond comprehension. Jesus YOU are my love story, YOU are my best friend, You are my Husband and Savior and King. Jesus give my soul the rest You promised and carry me through each day.

Lord, I love you. Hay-men.

Cute Student Quotes

2011-01-24T16:55:00.000-08:00

In Art class, "Ms. Capshaw, do you have a circle of roundness I can borrow?"

Upon learning the the brain gets wrinkles as we learn, disgusted she grabbed her head and said, "Gross your brain gets wrinkles when you learn?! I don't wanna think!"

A student inquired about my eating habits and I told her about the fast we are doing. She had no clue what a daniel fast is so I mentioned the "book in the Bible" and she said, "you eat it?!" Lol...she thought I meant we eat the Bible...

Lady on the Train

2011-01-22T07:20:00.001-08:00

We've been fasting at our church so there is a generally slower pace among all of us as our bodies adjust to the new diets. I've been blessed and haven't felt terrible, but I've definitely cut out extraneous movements from my daily habits. On the train last night Angela and I were talking and there was a old Indian woman who was bundled and bag laden- I couldn't tell if she was homeless but she looked tired, too. Usually I smile and nod at most everyone with whom I make eye contact, I always have and probably always will, but for some reason my smile reflex was not on (much to my dismay). As Hotdog and I conversed, the train took off. Mid-sentence I turned to face Angela and the best laughing smile had lit this little woman's face. For some stupid reason my face didn't cooperate, I actually looked snyde, and as we made eye-contact, the smile wiped right off the woman's face. No one acknowledged the humor of the moment, no one reciprocated her gaiety, and she sank back into her seat. I know the feeling she felt, kind of alone, awkwardly, subtly, and softly rejected by those around her (though only in part perceived). I was heart broken I'd been, quite on accident, the main contributing party to the replacement expression of resigned hurt. The rest of the ride I couldn't make eye-contact with her again, I wanted so bad to show her kindness and try to rebuff her discomfort, but she wouldn't look at me or anyone else again. God forgive me for the moments that I squander because I'm not paying attention. I'm not here for me, help me be vigilant and steadfast in giving You out through myself.

Ugh, that was awful. God love on her, please.

God is Cute

2011-01-22T07:00:00.000-08:00

A while back I had this image in my head of a man with tattooed palms. It was kind of a blob of an image/chunk of a story that my imagination elaborated upon: a girl had written something sweet on his palm and either he did the same for her or it was just him (I've totally forgotten details). Anyway, man hands has sweetness in his palm for sure. So, because he loves her so much, he never washes it off his hand and (I could be making this part up but who cares) even fills it in each day. Ultimately he gets the sweet little message heart thing TATTOOED onto his palm. For some reason this is the sweetest thing to me, random I know, girls are weird sometimes. The thought comes in and out of my brain from time to time, kind of like the sushi guys on bikes, ride in out of nowhere and forgotten as quickly as they passed. Yesterday was a sushi guy day and this morning I had a weird urge to open this journal thing my mom had given me. It has lots of scriptures in it so I was thumbing through some of them and came across this one from Isaiah(49:15-16):

"I will not forget you. I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."

Neat! God loves us so much. All inspiration is from something He planted I'm sure. I've been realizing the remnants of my insecurities, I thought I'd kicked them pretty well over the last year and a half, but there is a residue or roots He'll have to handle. I love His reminders, however, that He loves me more than I, or anybody else, ever could--chubby cheeks, zits, tired eyes and all.

"The Lord sees not as man sees;
man looks on the outward appearance,
but the Lord looks on the heart."
1 Samuel 16:7

He made that, too.

I don't like ugly...

2011-01-21T19:58:00.002-08:00

I don't particularly stomach mean well.

Can't stand it.

Tis all.

2011-01-21T19:58:00.001-08:00

Favorite

2011-01-20T17:44:00.000-08:00

I think this one is one of my very favorite songs ever :)

"Hosanna"
Brook Fraser

I see the king of glory
Coming down the clouds with fire
The whole earth shakes, the whole earth shakes
I see his love and mercy
Washing over all our sin
The people sing, the people sing

Hosanna, Hosanna
Hosanna in the highest

I see a generation
Rising up to take the place
With selfless faith, with selfless faith
I see a new revival
Staring as we pray and seek
We're on our knees, we're on our knees

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart for what is yours
Everything I am for your kingdom's cause
As I walk from earth into eternity

New Song :)

2011-01-20T17:36:00.000-08:00

"Deciphering Me"
Brook Fraser

Friend, it's getting late
We should be going
We've been sat here beneath
These flickering neons for hours

While I am cracking their code
You are deciphering me
For I am a mystery
I am a locked room in a tall tower

[Chorus]
Oh can you feel the gravity falling
Calling us home
Oh did you see the stars colliding
Shining just to show
We belong
We belong

[Music]

Your telescope eyes
See everything clearly
My vision is blurred
But I know what I heard
Echoing all around

While I am tuning you in
You are deciphering me
I'm not such a mystery
Not such a faint and far away sound

Oh can you feel the gravity falling
Calling us home
Oh did you see the stars colliding
Shining just to show
We belong
We belong...

It's love, it's love that holds us
We will be alright
It's truth, it's truth that shows us
If we all walk in His light
It's love, it's love that holds us
We will be alright
It's truth, it's truth that shows us
If we all walk in His light

Oh can you feel the gravity falling
Calling us home
Oh did you see the stars colliding
Shining just to show
We belong

Oh can you feel the gravity falling
Calling us home
Oh did you see the stars colliding
Shining just to show
We belong...

Oh can you feel the gravity falling
Calling us home
(We belong...)
Oh did you see the stars colliding
Shining just to show
We belong

Christmas Day 2010

2011-01-08T09:50:00.000-08:00

FOOD!

Grandma

So Sweet!

Grandpa

Grandma

Grandpa

Grandma

Daddy-O

My Daddy The Cheflet!

To Know People

2011-01-08T08:37:00.001-08:00

To know, truly know, people, one must invest much mental energy into seeking-finding-asking and then retaining all the little nuances of each human being learned. It struck me hard in the gut one morning to realize how badly I suck at doing this (I can work with someone for years and 6 months away I forget their names) when I realized I didn't know my granddad's favorite color. It was 6:57 a.m. and I was walking towards my school for work but I wanted so much to know I resolved to call him; problem was, it was 5:57 his time. I walked slower and waited 'til my phone said 7 then pushed 'call'. He sounded a little surprised to hear my voice, then sarcastically commended my self control when I told him of my considerate 3 minute wait. He hadn't been sleeping but was still laying in bed. Part of me was a little bashful of asking this staunch former Air Force Lieutenant Colonel what his favorite color was at dawn, but I couldn't shake the shame I had at never inquiring. 'I don't know my own family," I thought. Ouch. He wasn't as taken aback as I thought he'd be, usually he is pretty clear in highlighting when I am being ridiculous for lack of a better word. At this point I was leaning outside a Starbucks a few blocks from my school and the sun had risen just enough to forge its way over the Harlem building tops and gild most everything around me. Stunning. He told me "it depends" and I immediately perked up, I have a favorite color situation TOO I told him, perhaps it's hereditary, but the conversation was about him so I kept my explanation to a minimum. After a genuine thought on the matter he decided it was mainly blue, no shade in particular (well maybe a royal blue) but blue was nice. My grandma's eyes are blue. Nearly royal. I actually look just like his wife and I wonder if he ever sees it when he looks at me. Does he put up with my silliness because he misses hers so much? For a man who had never known daughters he has sure adjusted pretty well to me. It took a long time, but he has adjusted. Until his mother died when I was a sophomore I'd actually feared this man, but I just really needed to know his favorite color that day. I realize how pithy a color preference might seem, but for me it indicated something much more than that, it represented a wee tiny detail of someone I love more dearly than he knows. A detail that, despite this great love, had managed to be missed along with a slew of others. I will learn them.

We talked about his move to an "apartment" that is otherwise called a retirement home and where life is headed for me. He informed me that there are poor, hungry kids in Louisiana, too, but accepted my global ambition. I hated getting off the phone but the conversation petered out and it was time to go to work. I love my granddad.

Upon mulling the subject over, it has occurred to me that if I just relax and let my heart feel people out, what needs to stick will and I don't have to think so much on it--if I just care like I'd like to(and naturally do) and stop trying to love from mind I'd get a lot farther with more people.

Oh, and my daddy's favorite color is forest green. Just like his towels he's had forever.

Such Seven Days

2011-01-01T00:04:00.000-08:00

So much happened on my trip home--I'll write about it all later (I'm so tired). I just wanted to post this picture real quick:

Thing 1 and Thing 2

My beautiful brudders. The big one has the biggest heart I've seen--he has a mouth like a sailor but major heart none-the-less. The little one is a gentle, sweet lil guy :)

Struck

2010-12-11T14:43:00.001-08:00

My all time favorite sculpture ever is this one, Nike. It was found, if I'm not mis-remembering my art history, at the bottom of some sea, so the creator is unknown, and is thought to be from Samothrace, or is housed there now...whatever, I should look it up but I really just felt like posting the image. I like the art that jolts me when I see it, it feels like it is so impacting because it is reflecting some aspect of myself I probably didn't notice...blah, blah, blah, here she is :)

If I had a wee tiny metal cast replica I'd wear her around my neck. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!

Cherokee

2010-12-10T19:39:00.000-08:00

Cherokee
By Walela
Sweet eyes of my father
In my own eyes I can see
The vision of the ancient Cherokee
Sweet sacred inspiration
He passes on to me
Heartbeat of the gentle Cherokee

And I heard him say
That's just the way love is
When love is bliss

And we will walk the mighty circle
Double cross the hands of time
Laugh and we'll cry as egos die
Until we get to the other side
Put on our wings and fly

The soul of sweet foregiveness
Walks his path with dignity
With the wisdom of the ancient living Cherokee
I come from his deep water
As much like him as I can be
And I carry to my own children
The promise of the Cherokee

And I heard him pray
That everywhere God is
Let freedom live

And we will walk the mighty circle
Double cross the hands of time
As nations die and hearts unite
When we'll get to the other side
Put on our wings and fly

Song of Monolah Sing of Mother Earth
Let everyman live free
Let every voice be heard
Let every child be born
Knowing the way

And we will walk the sacred circle
Join our hands across all time
Living in peace when we believe
We're gonna get to the other side
Join our voices across the sky
When we get to the other side
We're gonna leave this world behind
Til we get to the other side
We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride

~I've never heard it performed but I love these words.

Song By a Group Of Cherokee Women

2010-12-10T19:27:00.000-08:00

Wash Your Spirit Clean
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To
Ha Da Hv Si Ni Ja Du Li Sgai
Di Ja Yo Hi Ki La Hi Go Wa Ta
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To
hos da hi ta da na de ja du
hi es go hi ge ja de le hi
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To

Wash your spirit clean
Give away the things you don't need
Let it all go and you'll soon see
And you'll wash your spirit clean
Wash your spirit clean

and you'll wash you spirit clean
Give away the things you don't need
Let it all go and you'll soon see
And you'll wash your spirit clean

Wash your spirit clean
Go and pray upon a mountain
Go and pray beside the ocean
And you'll wash your spirit clean

Wash Your spirit clean
Be grateful for the struggle
Be thankful for the lessons
And you'll wash your spirit clean

Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To
Ha Da Hv Si Ni Ja Du Li Sgai
Di Ja Yo Hi Ki La Hi Go Wa Ta
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To
hos da hi ta da na de ja du
hi es go hi ge ja de le hi
Hi Nv Ga La Ja Da Nv To

Wash your spirit clean
Give away the things you don't need
Let it all go and you'll soon see
And you'll wash your spirit clean
Wash your spirit clean

and you'll wash your spirit clean.

ELLIOT IS A YEAR OLD!!!!!

2010-12-10T15:42:00.000-08:00

My beautiful new brudderlet < 3

I love my brothers. A lot. I never thought I'd get a new sibling but this little guy made his debut a little under a year ago and has brought my heart so much joy ever since. He is a new little person I get to learn and see grow.

That Cross Gets Me

2010-12-05T14:34:00.000-08:00

I get criticism for EVERYTHING, it seems, constantly and for a while I would take it on, as in believe what people thought of me; recently I've been discovering the danger in that, especially since the individuals who judge me the most knew me the least. Much of what they see is some weird set of characteristics they lazily tied into a persona and impose onto me whenever I am around. They have never tried earnestly (much less in love) to befriend me and learn me. Yet they try to speak into my life or correct my flaws? I seriously get treated like dirt kinda regularly, but really, I'm not here for them to approve of me, I'm just here to love them and strive to prepare and fulfill my purposes with the other 99.9% of my time. God has a huge list for me and I love it. Someone told me recently that they see that I "want people to like me" and that I basically act silly and "ditzy" around people, overcompensating for insecurities and trying really hard to make them approve of me.

Absolutely not.

I am bubbly, I am silly. I am not an idiot. There isn't a single person I would bend or break myself to get approval from. Period. I spent a long time doing that to an extreme extent for someone and lost a part of my soul for a while. God amazingly tore me away from it and sent me to New York instead...what? I disobey and get lovingly rewarded? His Grace and Mercy is astounding. Lord You gave me ice cream for not cleaning my room...but honestly He showed me that no man/person/group is worth more in my life than my purpose. I have a great purpose, and I am quite a peach(spoken humbly), whether anyone else but God Himself believes. He even believes it when I don't. Thank You, Jesus. Wee tangent. Oh well.

I've been praying over this for a long time and found the following article encouraging:

Friday, December 03, 2010
Critiqued By The Cross
In Bob Kauflin's book Worship Matters , he has a section on how to handle criticism. He's writing specifically with church leaders in mind (pastors, preachers, music directors, etc.) but his insight proves to be super beneficial for all Christians.

He shows that criticism provides Christians with an opportunity to glory in the cross of Christ. He makes the point that the main reason Christians resent criticism is because we fail to believe what God has said about us at the cross.

He explains what he means by quoting Alfred Poirier: "In light of God's judgment and justification of the sinner in the cross of Christ, we can begin to discover how to deal with any and all criticism. I can face any criticism man may lay against me. In other words, no one can criticize me more than the cross already has."

Reflecting on these words, Bob writes:

What a thought. The cross is a loud statement of our sin, unworthiness, and need. And in light of the cross, we can receive criticism graciously because God, who knows our wickedness better than anyone else, has fully forgiven and justified us. We will never be brought into condemnation (Romans 8:1)! So we can confidently pray with David, "Let a righteous man strike me - it is a kindness; let him rebuke me - it is oil for me head; let my head not refuse it" (Psalm 141:5).

Once again I was reminded that because I am in Christ, all that I need I already have-even the capacity to endure criticism with great gospel joy and thanksgiving.

This brought my mind back to something I read a few months ago from Carl Trueman on how Christian's should respond if they are criticized or defamed (specifically on the web). His gospel-drenched insights are right on the money:

The answer is simple: for myself, I do not believe that it is appropriate that I spend my time defending my name. My name is nothing—who really cares about it? And I am not called to waste precious hours and energy in fighting off every person with a laptop who wants to have a pop at me. As a Christian, I am not meant to engage in self-justification any more than self-promotion; I am called rather to defend the name of Christ; and, to be honest, I have yet to see a criticism of me, true or untrue, to which I could justifiably respond on the grounds that it was Christ's honour, and not simply my ego, which was being damaged. I am called to spend my time in being a husband, a father, a minister in my denomination, a member of my church, a good friend to those around me, and a conscientious employee. These things, these people, these locations and contexts, are to shape my priorities and my allocation of time. Hitting back in anger at those who, justly or unjustly, do not like me and for some reason think the world needs to know what they think of me is no part of my God-given vocation. God will look after my reputation if needs be; He has given me other work to do.

http://www.crosswalk.com/blogs/Tchividjian/11642235/

Daddy I Want a Pony

2010-12-05T12:13:00.001-08:00

Sometimes when I walk down the street I have an intense desire to be tearing through a canyon on a horse. If I had a bucket list, which I intend to write eventually, that would be on it. I'd like to be quite deft on a horse. I actually think my spirit is a horse. Make fun if you wish, but there is something about them that resonates with my insides. Once in a hobby lobby I came across a picture that filled my ribcage with a palpable yearning--I was in a season of pretty crummy depression and I instantly had tears in my eyes when I saw it. It was a black and white gelatin print of a white horse looking back at the camera. Gray day, wind blowing, deep intense eyes, and powerful neck and shoulders. The shot was amazing and I instantly thought, that is me. Not the horse, I am not a horse, but the emotion in the picture, it was how I felt. 'Can't put a word to it, you'd just have to see it. Something passionate but quiet, like the strength was a secret, highly and easily underestimated, in wait. Fierce. Grace. Whispered.

The Orange

2010-12-05T11:35:00.000-08:00

The other day I was sitting in my living room and had the strangest desire I think I've ever had. I really, really, really felt like I needed to draw an orange with oil pastels. Isn't that odd? I don't think I saw an orange. I didn't even want to eat one.

But I really wanted to draw one.

Anyway, I never did because I discovered that I don't actually have oil pastels, only oil paints and charcoal pencils. Not the same.

I just got home from church and read an article online about a lady who adopted her daughter from Russia. She said the most moving thing she saw on her trip was...an orange. The children at the orphanage received an orange for Christmas and that was all, but they loved it and clung to it like they'd been given a gold brick.

Thought it was a little random and neat.

Picturesque

2010-12-03T19:33:00.000-08:00

I am sitting in our little Harlem home, staring at the cityscape framed by Christmas lights, buried deep in pillows of a giant papas an chair. Aside from hacking my lungs out and being exhausted, I haven’t had peace like this in a while. Thank You, Jesus. Kari Jobe, Healer, I’m believin’, lol…but really. As I peek past my own toes I’m intermittently (attempting) reading a book I can tell will burn my heart in half and drive me to beg for June more than I have in a while….I keep drifting off into my own dreams as I read descriptions of cultures I love. Africa, duh, Addis Abba, Ethiopia in particular. I’ve only been to Tanzania, but we ate at an amazing Ethiopian restaurant called Addis in Dar near the end of our trip. The night was exquisite—lots of fire, friends, getting lost in the depths of Dar Es Salaam in terribly lit streets. We had just celebrated the Fourth of July on the fifth (a safety precaution, terrorism) at the US Embassy and were dressed in our best pashmina, half of us wore mascara (!!). We were quite conspicuously white and quite alone, despite our proximity to the Embassy…and quite conspicuously lost. Anyway we made it and the food was amazing. It looks literally like vomit in a bowl. Ethiopian honey wine is my favorite. Ever. Hands down. While we waited for our food on the balcony, we reveled in, well, everything. There were lanterns and maps and pictures and great books. Really it’s a book that is the cause of this whole post, it was about a nomadic tribe indigenous to Ethiopia. They were goat herders and children started small in caring for the herds. The image in my mind is so incredible I hate attempting to describe it. It was a little girl in beaded leather garments caring for a lamb. Both creatures small. She carried it and it was so starkly white in contrast to her dark brown flesh and the dusty tan rocks and sand (that was visibly blowing around them). She was adorned in metal jewelry, but still simply clad. Innocence. Strength. Time. Timelessness. Earth. Creation. Culture. Tradition. Realness. Beauty. So much of that is lost here, we are a mass, we buy in mass, shop from mass choices, look alike…we seek convenience over the satisfaction of seeing the fruits of our own labor and are satisfied with a cotton paper blend to give in the place of our own blood, sweat, and tears. This child was totally impoverished yet oblivious…I could talk about all that for days but it is that image that my mind rolls over. A photograph I wanted to both tear out and crawl into…I wanted to follow this little girl and let her teach me all about her lamb. I think I’m done reading for the night. Ruminating upon my own books and stories and tales.

Neat Thoughts Methinks

2010-12-03T19:30:00.001-08:00

Sometimes when God carves our hearts, he has a piece big enough to make two. Something in them always fits together; they beat in time.

The relevance of roots is astounding. And in every possible context.

I see no stain on you, My child.

Maps.

2010-12-03T18:10:00.000-08:00

I love antique maps.

Traveling is such a part of my make up I am convinced I have a genetic predisposition for wanderlust...Air Force Granddaddy and so on...parents in separate states as a child. Weekend drives to see my daddy. Several hundred miles a week. Then we moved closer and still I had late Friday night rides to Norman to stare at the stars through the car window. What a comfort that stellar cookware became; I can still see my own little face reflected in the moonlight peering through my countenance at the Big Dipper and marveling at how it shifted. All my wonderings and revelations have since been stolen by time, but they're still floating somewhere alongside the highway between Dad's and Sooner Road.

But yeah, those maps, I love them.

Homeworkish

2010-12-01T15:26:00.001-08:00

I'm reading about the food industry and how badly we are obliterating the delicate ecosystems of, well, our whole freaking planet. Even small villages in Thailand are having their lands raped by industrial companies to mass produce hot items. People are becoming privy, though slowly, to their impact on nature and thus its impact on humanity, but at a rate that is little more than a proverbial head nod as acknowledgement. One of the issues is our need(need?) to mass produce quantities of food/product/resource large enough to get a very cheap price or feed a massive population. I'm inferring a lot of science from these articles, so it may not be 100% accurate, but the gist is that by overwhelming an environment with a single type of organism and for a prolonged period of time, the environment is basically thrown out of its homeostatic cooperative. We exhaust the system by taking more than we give back. I should give examples, but I'm presently doing homework, too, so I need to get off this thing..

We need to actively seek a homeostatic cooperative. This is basically sustainability, I just agree with an article I just read however that we are bastardizing the word and losing its meaning so opted not to use it. The first thing that came to mind was smaller individual sourcing, but overall sourcing from a collective. What if there were small farms that used environmentally sensical practices, at several locations, then pooled their productions to obtain the original desired output. It seems that the quality of the food would be worth the cost, right?

I'd like to say I agree with that question but I know I like cheaper food. I'm on a budget and I don't even have mouths to feed. Well, none that I HAVE to feed, but several that I love to. If we have a paradigm shift in practice, it seems there would be a proportional shift (over time) in acceptance. Standards would be higher. We have begun to mistake expectations for standards, though the two are not synonymous.

Hmm, I gotta write some more stuff for school, but my wheels are turning on solutions for both our society and for models overseas--instead of developing them incorrectly there and then making corrections, what if we do it right to begin with there and fix our own mess separately. Westernization is so ridiculous. I'll amend that later, but for now, yes, it is.

I Heart Words

2010-11-23T05:21:00.000-08:00

Word of the Day for Tuesday, November 23, 2010

mithridate \MITH-ri-deyt\, noun:

A confection believed to contain an antidote to every poison.

The mithridate he believed to be made of the same drugs as the treacle, though they ought to be very different compositions, especially in regard to opium; one seventy-fifth part of the treacle should be opium, but not a two hundred and fortieth part in mithridate.
-- Dr. B.R. Squibb, "Hydrocyanic Acid," Proceedings of the American Pharmaceutical Association, Volume 16, 1868.

Elizabeth had listened with half an ear while she tried to spoon the mithridate between Margaret's flaccid lips.
-- Anya Seton, The Winthrop Woman

Mithridate originates from the name of Mithridates VI, a legendary king who had an immunity to poisons.

Oh Boy...

2010-11-18T09:56:00.000-08:00

I went to Staples to get a bunch of prizes for my students (hence the huge pile of stuff in the background) and noticed that my prize pencils that say "You're a star!" are actually spelled incorrectly. Wow.

Now I know why they were only $1.

Lol.

The Way I See It

2010-11-14T20:44:00.000-08:00

He will ask the Lord for me and will not be hindered by the opinions of others. I will be his and he will be mine and we will pursue the Lord and the work of the Lord together as one all the days of our lives. He will challenge me, and teach me, adore me, and show me grace. And I him. We will grow together and never grow old. He will be my best friend and we will talk for hours. Even when we are too old to hear each other. Our whole lives we will still discover new things about each other and discover new things with each other. Together we will serve a purpose and encourage one another. We will seek adventure and rest. We will be ninjas. Our home will be safe and inviting, and we will welcome weary travelers and lost souls. Always. We will raise up children, God willing, to love and serve Him, and take on children that are not our own to love and cherish. We will be goofy and warm and loving--we will build each other and honor each other and stretch each other. We will complete the love triangle God destined for a man and a woman, with Him at the pinnacle. Til one of us enters into the loving arms of the Lord. Our life will be for Him who made us for one another, as thanks and praise for Christ who died for us.

Mungu akipenda.

And he'll know the secret password :)

tee hee

< 3

"Blessed is she who believes
that what the Lord has told her
will be accomplished."
Luke 1:45

"Waiting" ...found this on my computer...

2010-10-31T15:18:00.000-07:00

7-22-10
waiting
for a new day
loving mine
so blessed

but passion burns
from different fuel
lesser coals
in its stead

embers fading
seeking solace
in scripture and time
edified by grace

a waiting game
with leaps of faith
within four squares
boxed, enclosed

practice for the future
training for the race
building my strength
for tomorrow

callous these hands Lord
ready my heart
filter its contents
purify this child

then send me whole
complete in You
to serve and stand
as your army and hands

til then I'll wait
still and patient
awaiting Your Word
that blessed green go

im eager im itching
to be sent on my way
but im sent on my way
here already

i'll embrace my charge
with a fervency for You
and rejoice in these hurdles
as they lengthen my stride

Freedom

2010-10-27T15:53:00.000-07:00

As I walked home in the drizzle after work today, with my students hollering all sorts of cute farewells behind me, I came nearly alongside a cute little person, probably 5 or 6, with his father. He had on a batman backpack and the hood of his jacket was swallowing his little head. As he somewhat bounced along I laughed in my head when I noticed my inclination to grab his head with both hands and tell him how adorable he was. Not the best idea in Harlem, lol. He was elated to be out of school and was gaily noshing on a ring pop. I love ring pops. Anyway, as he flitted down the street he started skipping. His skip was just barely beyond that wild, awkward jump of one who is still proud of his newfound talent. He'd bound into the air and continue walking; I marveled at how quickly he recovered. Oh to be that mobile, I suppose I am, but not any where near as effortlessly. The shape he made was magnificent, all of him was torqued, twisted, and lifted...and light :) There was such freedom in this shape. It is amazing how much of your soul is awakened by such simple movement--your spirit mimics the movement--fills you with bubbles like a soda drink, your heart afloat like the sudsy scoop of ice cream on top.

Lovely

Light

Life

:)

Technology and Kids

2010-10-27T13:13:00.001-07:00

I can't talk about it now, but the breakdown in our society is definitely caused in part by kids' access and dependence upon technology. [Huge train of thought pretty much imperative to support the title omitted here].Thinking is becoming obsolete, social skills are waning, and "duh" moments (as I call them in my classroom) are ever increasing. The inappropriate questions some of my students are bold enough to make me take a step back in utter disbelief...questions I would have CRAPPED over had I heard a classmate ask, much less asked myself. Where do they get the gall? The correct question is "where DON'T they get the proper social training?" I am hard pressed to believe that it is just the batch I deal with, and to see the issue en masse isn't enough to support the inkling that some sneaky gene has inserted itself into this generations' DNA... We are the culprits, we are raising up kids who range from snotty to clueless to down right ridiculous across the board. It is only fair to have a solution in exchange for the rant time, but I have none in this here blurb-let.

Philosophy on Stuff

2010-10-23T16:47:00.001-07:00

I want to be able (mentally and otherwise) to sell/give away all I own when God tells me. Recently my move to New York required such paring down, but unfortunately it was really hard. After working with this lady ( a "hoarder" to prepare her apartment for inspection so she won't get evicted) I realized how much we had in common and it was terrifying. I went home for a funeral soon after and cleaned my childhood out of my parents' old garage, then purged a ton from my aunt and uncles' place. I have crap here, and it feels like a lot of crap, but considering the space I have and the fact that it is all I own aside from a few mementos from life, it isn't that much. I never want to be tied to stuff. I just don't see myself in ordinary...and it just seems so temporary...I want to be mobile in an instant...that sounds strange for others to hear I'm sure, but it makes sense in my noggin.

Anyway.

Future stuff (a roomie recommended I write all this down):

grow my own food
get a doctorate
compost
have my art in a gallery
learn how to get all my daily nutrients in 1200 calories
fall in love, Mungu akipenda
get married barefoot
write a book
climb kilimanjaro
spread the gospel
work in Africa/across the pond
stay married
lots more
LIVE ALLTHE TIME! EVERY DAY! LIFE = ADVENTURE!

Woopwoop!

The Sabbath that I Stole...

2010-10-23T12:29:00.001-07:00

I'm covered in paint and listening to my roommates chatter and sing and live in the background of a Pink song I've been listening to in repeat for hours...I'm so happy. Today I knew my ex got married--I felt it--so I checked facebook to see and he is on his honeymoon right now :) Makes me happy. I'm finishing a painting I started for his birthday but am reclaiming for myself. Love it. I love painting finally. It took years to embrace the challenge, and suddenly I crave the thick slick glide of the brush across a canvas. The piano in this song is amazing and makes me want to dance; makes me want to be more delicate than I am, be more limber and nimble and graceful.

It's only half past the point of no return...the tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn...

Have you ever felt this way?

The red streak on the back of my hand has a bruise-y, bloody type look to it. And Angela told me I have purple on my forehead :) The morning was brilliant and clear and cool, and I painted right through to the afternoon. I spent a good deal of time staring out of the window enjoying the colors of the sky. Right after sunrise, the bridge (about a quarter of the way from the right of the window) has the most amazing orange-pink lining. At night the windows glitter like sequins on the buildings. As I stared out the window the smell of a pumpkin loaf had a cinammon-y lick in my nostrils; cold air snuck in the window to dance with it. Hot tea and big pillows. I love my apartment. Presently I'm waiting for a friend to come so we can walk through the park.

Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone? Your whole life waiting on the ring to tell you you're not alone. Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?

Have you ever felt this way?

I took a break at noon-ish to get some turpentine (got mineral spirits instead 'cause it stinks less for the roomies) and expanded to fill the streets. You know that feeling you get on a clear, chilly day when you can kind of dissipate into your surroundings? Rustle of tree leaves, cool fingers of the breeze tousling my hair into knots...clouds and blue sky laying across the building tops...me floating to the hardware store. I mostly floated, but my mind wandered along with me every now and then. I thought of the weird cyclical nature of my desires, the husband stuff in particular, and it occurred to me that if I get married I won't be me and God anymore. Okay, I had that thought the other day, but it lead to me realizing that I want a husband who won't be a wedge to that relationship...and that that does exist....how divine...but I still fear it. Am I firm enough in myself to still grow as an individual, still grow in the Lord, and grow as a new person with a man? *Brain explodes here* I retire the desire...I'll just cross that bridge when I come to it. Yep. My husband exists somewhere...half the time I wonder if I've met him (lol, ugh)...but mostly I'm tired of it all now.

...the breath before the kiss...and the fear before the flames...have you ever felt this way( e-ay-e-aaaaaay)...

My favorite sweatshirt is the gnarliest one I own. It was a $1.34 at an Old Navy Outlet and is holey and covered in paint. Inspiration...is color smudged cotton reminding me what I've done before when I think I can't now. I was going to dance today but I decided I would sit this performance out; in part because of time, in part miscommunication. And nearly all because I wanted to pick up my brushes :) I think loving painting finally came when I got over being good or not. 99% of my work is not so hot--nearly all of it got thrown out recently on accident by a family member--so I get to make NEW not-so-great stuff---and love every messy second of it.

There you are, sitting in the garden, clutching my coffee, calling me sugar...you called me sugar.

Have you ever wished for an endless night? Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight. Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself will it ever get more better than tonight?

Nachesca was telling me the other night as we discussed the busyness of our lives that God commanded us to take a sabbath. Oops. I wish there was something I could move, but most of what I do is pretty mandatory...the lady I help clean is out of town for the weekend so I stole today :) All mine! My friend just got here so I'm gonna go wander through the park and let the wind play with my hair some more :)

Dance Parties...8-Effers...

2010-10-13T19:30:00.000-07:00

Yeah we do it big in 8F. We just had impromptu dance party #4 for me and I am so in love with all the people in my house. How fun! How creative/loving/encouraging/silly/outgoing/[awesome adjective]/[awesome adjective]/[awesome adjective]!!!! I can't get over how amazing my life is right now. I am not bragging, I'm just so in awe of God's grace and love---I'm frickin' spoiled. The moment I first laid/lay/lay down (crap, Dan, I can't remember) in my bed God said, "this is the New York I had for you." Every morning I wake up to a brilliant sunrise, beautiful souls, and genuine hearts. I've never been this happy ever in my life. Maybe it's rose colored glasses, but I like my shades and I do believe I'll even wear them at night ;)

Relationships in Nature

2010-10-12T20:32:00.001-07:00

Competition

Carnivorous plants and spiders: both the spiders and the plants (venus fly trap, etc.) feed on small insects. Because they share a food supply they are in competition with one another.

Neutralism

Monkey and an aphid: a monkey and an aphid are examples of neutralism because they neither interact nor affect one another in any way. The aphid is in the picture but is wee tiny so cannot be seen.

Parasitism

Tape worms and humans: tape worms are a parasite that reside in the intestines of their host (which include humans). They feed on whatever their host eats, thus causing the host to become weak and malnourished; prolonged infection can lead to starvation of the host.

Predation

Ladybird beetles and aphids: The lady bugs (as I prefer to call them) prey on the aphids whose only role in the relationship is to live in fear and provide food for the lady bug.

Commensalism

Crustaceans and sea slugs: sea slugs are not affected by the presence of the shrimp. The shrimp use the nudibranch (sea slug) as a home.

Mutualism

Crematogaster ants and Acacia trees in Tanzania: The ants protect the tree by attacking insects that eat leaves of the tree, but leave insects that pollinate the tree’s flowers. In return for their services, the ants are provided with a place to live. Both species thrive because of the existence and cooperation of the other.

30 Days of Ab-a-licious Butt Kicking...or Something

2010-10-12T19:08:00.000-07:00

I've challenged my little brother to a 30 day competition to see who can get the best abs in 30 days...I think I can kill him if I try...he'll slack I know it (hahaha) so we will be much like the tortoise and the hare :) I be the tortoise...pole pole ndiyo mwendo!!

These are the before pictures...this is gonna be fun/horrible :) Love this kid!!

Somuchpun.com

2010-10-11T12:32:00.000-07:00

I love this website :)

More Cute Elliot!!

2010-10-11T12:09:00.000-07:00

I cannot wait to squeeze this child! He is such a little gift from God.

Mr. Green, New York Times Published Poet

2010-10-11T10:49:00.000-07:00

I wrote a while back about Mr. Green and said I'd post this poem he wrote me. He wrote it a couple days before Charlie died...it was amazing how pertinent it was to my life at the time. It was like God filled his pen. This man has pretty much disappeared, and I regret not making it a point to visit him more after I moved. Here is his poem :)

A young woman
comes, I am sitting in
the tunnel on 14th street,
signs indicating I am a
New York Times published
poet, parts of a book
I sell, to turn and love,
nearing flower, but she
asks of poems written,
in this time
here in the hall,
I tell her I do this also,
and when asked what it is
you want me to
write about?
It's love,
"God's love"
she tells me to write
about,
what a sensitive
subject for this
poet,
God's love, where is
thy God?
The suffering that is
in this
world... the trial
that life can be--
God's love,
where is God? Yet some
maker for all of this
spirit that gives moon and
sun, and spirit that provides rain
and air...spirit that allows
for she to be, and me to be.
Surely somewhere, someone,
something
greater than you and I...
Perhaps the belief in God.
A gift from the soul...
Surely a belief in
one greater
that You,
something within someone...
for there are those much tested
by life, but always this
Maker, to look to...though
wrath of storm, there
is reason...and those
who celebrate, are with
smiles for the blessings or their journey...
God is great...
"God's Love" a young woman asks me to reach within
and find a poem...
The love of yourself
the acceptance of yourself,
the investigation of yourself,
the work you give to further dream,
and goals,
the Love you bring to others,
in a time where Love
is not prized,
but wherein time
have
people cherished
Love?
Put on the altar,
above that which is
material?
Or selfish...
where in time,
has Love been seen as
the
Salvation it
Truly Is?
So Kayli, You give to God,
You love you,
You accept you,
you continue to learn of you,
Be Kayli, that spirit of
Love in the
world, you push forth,
ou and this mysterious ONE,
in generosity,
in prosperity,
a protection,
on this journey.

~To Kayli, thank you for giving me this thought, inspiring this poem. From New York Times Published Poet, Donald Green.

He gave me a couple others that I'll post sometime later :) I love this. I hope I get to see him again :)

My Schedule. Whoa Buddy.

2010-10-10T18:18:00.000-07:00

Monday-Run, Teach!
Tuesday-Run, Teach! Grad School, Church
Wednesday-Run, Teach! Grad School
Thursday-Run, Teach! Grad School, Church
Friday-Run, Teach! Staff, Outreach
Saturday-AAB
Sunday-Outreach, Church, Homework/lesson plan/laundry/catch up on life...

I'm really not sure where I fit myself into all that, or God, aside from my time to run in the mornings. Despite it I'm right where I'm supposed to be so God will bless it I suppose :) I love that He knows what He's doing 'cause sometimes I sure don't! Thank You, Lord for every day You've given me :)

Where I'm Headed? HA...right...

2010-10-10T16:49:00.000-07:00

I haven't been quite sure of where I'm headed ever, I always just try to say 'YES' to wherever God wants to send me. Yes to Baton Rouge, Yes to NYC, and now, Yes to...yeah still waiting on that. I don't really mind though...this waiting. I've never been happier with my life, but it has taken me a lot of growth and time and disappointment to realize that I am the issue there. If you look at any of my life's seasons, those of unhappiness stemmed from not recognizing I had to choose to be happy. Sounds so very simple, but I realize that it's not the situation that gives you joy, it is God allowing you to be in it that should warrant satisfaction. Never be so entrenched in life that you lose yourself in the day to day. If you draw near to God your vantage point is a little higher up considering your journey to Him, thus you are less apt to stumble on that which is minor. Example: have you ever walked down the street and your dad was holding your hand (way back in the day when you were wee) and you came across a puddle or a curb (or whatever) and he simply lifted you over it? Or if you fell He yanked you up before you got hurt? Or he simply carried you up that flight of stairs because you were simply too weary or small? Similar kind of deal, at least this is how I process it. You kind of float above the minor and can glide along to the meat of life...

BUT...

You have to be in God's hand--walking with Him. Comprende?

Anyway, that was a really long tangent that I kind of enjoyed...but where am I going? Recently (well a coupla months ago) a friend of mine referred me to a website from an email the church received (it turned out to be fraudulent but oh well) asking for volunteers willing to go to a refugee camp to work. When I read through it I got that same feeling I got when I researched New York and LSU...maybe I am supposed to work in refugee camps? It makes complete sense actually considering my shelf-stored desire to work in rescue relief/disaster management and the five finger approach I'm following (education, medicine, nutrition, construction, and agriculture/permaculture). Where else would there be a need for health and sanitation education, medical attention, nutritional rehabilitation, things built, and learn how to grow stuff(completely grammatically wrong but you get it). In many cases, generations are born into this environment; they lack land, jobs, clothing, and often food. They are COMPLETELY dependent upon whomever supports the camp. This is degrading and unsustainable. I want to learn the teach these people how to be humans again. How to work the land for themselves, how to provide for their families, and how to thrive with what they have available to them. I don't want to "poo poo," so to speak, the institutions or governments that maintain these camps--I just feel that there has to be a better way of doing things. I want to figure that out. And then I want to do it. Is my next degree in Public Health? Or nutrition? How far must I take my institutional education before I can go get some hands on stuff under my belt? As I write all these desires, I acknowledge that I have ZERO experience to draw from (sans education degree) and am quite ignorant of the world beyond my day to day, but it can be done, and God can/will orchestrate all of it, Mungu akipenda... :) I'm just putting it down so I can remember, I have a long way to go I know. So much to grow. So much to learn.

Life is amazing :)

Haiku for You

2010-10-05T19:58:00.000-07:00

I am in love with haiku poems, I think because I am lazy and they are like 100-calorie pack art, and one day on the subway trip home from Chesca's I had a billion fall out of my pen. Here they be, in all their glorious splendor :)

8-25-10

Purple polished nails
leather flats and bf jeans
blonde hair, blue eyes closed

The door was open
cracked ajar, daring me to
throw it wide

Teacups, chocolate
laughter, secrets, womanhood.
Season for sisters.

Chesca:
dainty delicate and
smiling eyes, blue with wonder
arms outstretched for hugs

Courtney:
Disciplined Beauty
curved woman of strength and smiles
examples of love

Marisa:
meekest firecracker
adventurous. my best friend
loveliest princess

My [future] husband:
tall, dark, and handsome
ten fingers I wish I were mine
blue print manifest

scoops me, loves me and
sees me, wants me, loves me and
asks the Lord for me

Miadog
big brown eyes, paw pats
my heart with fur on the top
my four legged friend

God
I love you so much
I sent My Son to love you
then die upon that hill.

Hands I Adore:
Erected with hands
which built mountains, painted skies
that cradle my heart.

Stevie:
Rainy day red boots
dearest heart, comfy, colorful
bright splash of sunshine.

child cheeks for smooching
pucker plant smack and giggle
chubby love bundles

tiny tots she loves
she holds them close to her heart
pours love in their ears

He sews together
our fleshy exterior
belly button knot.

With a shovel He
dug holes for each hair upon
thy pretty noggin.

Toes: chubby painted
pink bones pointing to half moons
framed chip enamel.

haiku
five then seven then
five more. period. only.
syllable countdown

Estudiantes
Dark. Eyes, hair, skin. Them.
Watching, seeking solid ground
faces. eyes. souls. mine

wanting acceptance
I smile more to show my teeth
and bat my lashes

maybe he'll see me
and see ME, despite the guise
jovial slash smug

Beautiful Child

2010-10-05T18:07:00.000-07:00

I am so excited about this little boy! While my step-dad was separated from his girlfriend, he came to the realize that he wanted to work with children, or at least do something with kids. He wanted to be around them because he realized that it brought him joy to be around the little ones. God heard him, even though he doesn't believe in Him, and within 60 days BAM! his ex-gf calls and says, "wanna meet your son?" We knew she was prego, but for some stupid reason hoped it wasn't his, but it was and what a wonderful answer to a prayer. He is giggly, beautiful, and sooo sweet. Karl went through the ringer adjusting and accepting, but has been, from the moment he knew his new baby, utterly and totally in love with that little boy.

One thing this whole "ordeal" (if that really is what you can call a child) has brought about is the confirmation of how loving my family is. My mother has a picture of Elliot in her living room, and has wanted to steal him for months now. Her and my step-dad still talk even though they are divorced, and are civil to one another. It's been a magnificent revelation of myself by means of origin--that all the years I was ill-treated for the way I engaged people was simply me loving deeply just about everyone and being quite obliviously open about it. It got me stomped on quite regularly, but hey, I did as I was told, ay? (loved) My family has such an incredible capacity for love--and loving all--one that is deeper than anything else I have ever seen replicated. They are all so real, so raw, so down-to-earth, you'd have to be keen to notice how wonderful and amazing they are. It's subtle. Very, very subtle. Humble. I LOVE THEM.

Thank You, Jesus. < 3

I'll guard it and tuck it away...

2010-10-05T15:57:00.001-07:00

And it starts again.

I waited for difference to arise, and we are still alike in a million ways. I want to run from this all, and I will, I will run and I will run until He grabs my elbow and stops me, 'til He turns me right around and assures me and reassures me and signs sure truth on my heart. 'Til He seals that truth in my heart. It hurts to see it not matter, it hurts to see my desire before me in such striking form but be hidden by one way glass. I'm not to be seen, and I wish I couldn't see. I'll wait. I'll wait. I am waiting.

No, I am running.

I'll not wait, I'll run in the direction of my own destiny and will have to be caught...

He'll have to run right alongside me.

I surrender all to You, Lord. Give me blinders until I am to see. Open my eyes, protect my heart, keep me safe from myself and heal my wounds of old.

Thank you for all you have given me.

I love you Lord.

Amen.

Cherokee

2010-09-26T17:51:00.002-07:00

I want to learn so much about my Native American heritage!!! From what I've realized over the past years, much of my spirit stems from my roots. That sounds SO dorky, but it's true. I've done some light research on the tribe and I love it :) The women actually ran everything, which is interesting. All I want to do is drive to a reservation and talk to someone; I want to travel west and sit outside and just be. Cool new mission: research the Cherokee people. I love the music too :) I can't wait to know and learn and be able to share. More to come soon I hope!

Earring Recovery Miracle

2010-09-26T17:15:00.001-07:00

I was on my way home from Union Square the other night and my roomies and I were walking home from the 6 train. To most of you that doesn't matter, but oh well, I was on a NYC street in Harlem. As we walked in a clump down the sidewalk, we parted to pass a cute little boy. I was straggling a bit and right as he turned around I was walking up. He looked at me, grinned, and threw his arms wide before latching onto my legs for a hug. YAY! I love hugs, especially from cute little kids :) I picked him up and we pointed at various objects around us and hugged and hugged and hugged. His mom was nearby so we chatted for a bit, but the roomies called me home as a gang (no, quite literally) passed hootin' and hollerin'. I tried to pry my little buddy off without upsetting him but it didn't quite work. As I pulled I heard my earring crunch but didn't think anything of it. I went home and showered only to find as I dried that my earring was missing. I looked all in the tub and on the floor and in the apt and my stomach sank as I realized it wasn't there. My earrings are from my grandmother, hand-made by an American Indian, and entirely unique. My eyes pondered tearing as I tried to think of how to replace it--then I remembered that crunch with my buddy on the sidewalk. I didn't really let myself think of the probability of finding it on a city street here, I just started praying and put on some flip-flops. I went outside as fast as I could and headed back towards the subway. As I neared the place where I'd played with Zion I slowed and started scouring the concrete; I wasn't there for 10 seconds before I saw some shininess--first a shard of glass then, you guessed it, MY EARRING! God thank You, I know it is just an earring, but it is uber sentimental and amazing. I basically walked straight up to it. I am wearing them now :) And I rarely take them off.

The End.