Adventures in the Land of Marriage, Work, and daily Life

On to New Things!

2011-01-09T15:55:00.000-08:00

Fresh starts are always encouraging!

I have left my job as a two-year old lead teacher, and am pursuing an endorsement and substitute teaching.

I am excited for this change!

In other news, I am looking to be more positive, because feel I have been weighed down the last year and a half by feeling I have not achieved my goal of a classroom teacher. This change will help me further pursue my goal with all my heart.

I am also seeking to again let Christ define me instead of others. You can never count on people to lift you up, or say good things to you, or even say good things about you. Yet, who I am in the eyes of God should be all the definition I need.

I hope your new year goes well and all your hopes for this year are set forth and attained! Happy 2011!

Holding On

2010-12-11T19:55:00.000-08:00

Some months or weeks I catch myself.

I suppose I would call it holding on and holding off.

If you've ever experienced losing someone close to you, perhaps you do this yourself, I don't really know.

It's like, I'm so afraid of losing someone close to me, that I hold them off, but yet attempt to hold onto them. I make sure I keep emotional distance from them, but keep them as close to me as possible, and, in the meantime, worry like heck about them.

There's really no balance possible. I've been thinking a lot about death lately and the meaning of life. The line of my thinking often goes, what's the point of living if we're all going to die anyways? I know it's morose and negative. There's a book in the Bible about how everything is meaningless. That's how I've been feeling lately in regards to most things.

I'm sure a lot of it is due to not having my mom around for yet another Christmas season. Maybe it's something to do with turning 25 and wondering if my life is about lived up. Maybe it's just worry that I WILL lose someone close to me....

because, sometimes that's how life turns out.

It's hard to find a place of peace and rest from all of these questions. I've tried church, but, that even sometimes feels meaningless too. Obviously you can go to church your whole life, but you still will die. Once recently I sat in church and just wrote all my questions leading to what is the meaning of life if only to die?

I guess sometimes I don't want to hear about miracles when sometimes a miracle is all you need and all you don't get. I don't want someone telling me how God got them through this season or that without admitting the amount of pain and suffering and weariness that comes with loss or heartache. That, the pain sometimes outshines the hope. Sometimes all I want is an answer to why? and it's all I never get.

The questions go and come with different waves of my life, they will never leave me until I leave this earth. It doesn't mean I'm sad or depressed. It just means that sometimes the questions roar back into my ears and I have a hard time figuring out what to do about it.

Sometimes I ignore it. Sometimes I fight it. Sometimes I get lost in it.

Perhaps it's the acknowledgment that I am not the only one to feel pain over my mom's death, but that others suffer greatly in regards to her absence. Perhaps it's this burden of pain which leads to hold off and hold on. I know.

I know I don't have to carry this burden. But it's hard to set it down. I almost feel like it's my job to always be stubborn about this. To always ask why. To always feel the waves of pain as thought they are fresh.

I mean, come on. So many people are going to go visit their moms this season. So many young mothers or wives can call up their moms for advice.

I must admit, I do get to call up my Dad. And he's been great.

But perhaps even he would admit, the hardness of missing someone held dear.

Sometimes it's a burden. Just the missing part. The I wish I could see you part. The memory of our last conversation part.

I suppose it's simply just another desert. And like most deserts, there is always hope, even in the darkness.

Need a pick-up?

2010-10-24T20:14:00.000-07:00

Sadly and Gladly tomorrow our Puma is losing his manhood and his front claws. All he knows is that I haven't let him have any food since five ) : Poor guy.

However, the Hubby is the one who will be taking him to the vet, I'm the one who will be picking him up! I have always thought that picking up in regards to most things is better than dropping off.

Like, we picked up a desk! Which was really exciting. We picked up some paintings. We picked up some donuts. See what I mean?!?!?!?!?! Picking up is GREAT!

Hubby did get a new job and is enjoying it. He has to work 5pm-5am three nights out of the week. But the work and pay are better so we can't complain too much! ( :

Slowly but surely we have been adding things to decorate our house and make it feel more our own. Paintings, curtains, and fall decorations still help with that.

I must admit my excitement to decorate for Christmas because this will be our first Christmas as married people. There's something so special about that. Building the beginnings of a life together sometimes seems completely overwhelming and other times it seems completely awesome. Just depends on the week or day. ( :

That's about all for now! Happy fall y'all!

After all this.

2010-10-03T19:36:00.000-07:00

My husband and I have, of late, been talking about life. Not life in general. But life. Being alive.

We were talking about how, millions of people have lived and died before us and millions of people will live and die after us. It's overwhelming to imagine this, to even begin to picture it.

Yet. As we have been talking about this, I can't help be excited. Excited about heaven. About the hope that comes after life. After an imperfect and sometimes painful existence.

My family fully without a doubt believes in heaven. In the afterlife that Christ promised and preached. I've heard Pastor Bill Yonker speak to this several times. He used to say to the people he preached too, "And when I get to heaven, you better be one of those people in line to hug me". Just a few weeks ago I sung "We Will Dance" a song about the celebration in heaven. A song we played at my mother's funeral. A song that can make you feel like you've touched a small piece of heaven.

It means many things to different people. This afterlife or heaven thing. Some people believe in Hell and Heaven. Some people believe in nothing. Some people choose to believe reincarnation. There are many different ideas about it all.

I believe because of my dad's testimony. I believe because of my mom. Because she knew it was OK to let go of life. I believe because of my own spiritual experiences. I believe because of the way my heart feels when I think about it. The way my soul stretches to reach something so deep and so far. Something where I don't have to doubt or be afraid. Where I don't have to wait for all the stars to line up because the stars are already there. I know life is so beautiful and this place and this world. But I hope, oh I so much hope, that everyone who knows me will know. They will know. I am content. With Christ. With my family. With Love. This life is but a step in the journey. A dot in the time of eternity. It is easy to Hope.

It is easy to Hope and look forward. To know. Life has much to offer and so does death. So does what comes next. I hope that at some point, everyone can feel that. That freedom.

Sing a song of Celebration. Lift up a Shout of joy.
We will dance on the streets that are golden.
We will dance.
The Glorious Bride and the Great Son of Man.
We will dance.

I hope you will be there. In my line. To give me a hug. To say. Hello. Welcome. Or if I get there first, expect me to be in that line.

Peace be with you.

Five.

2010-09-06T18:47:00.000-07:00

No. This number is not about five-dollar foot longs. Or the number of years since Hurricane Katrina (although technically it is).

It's been five years since my mother died.

That is a strange fact for me. It does seem like enough has happened to make it feel like five years. Yet it's odd to think I've been swinging by without her for that long.

Everyone has that person in their life, married or unmarried, who they can't imagine living without. A mother for many girls happens to be one of them.

I don't have much else to say on the topic. But it seems I should at least comment on the fact. I don't look back so much anymore and think, if only she'd been there. I don't look forward so much anymore and say, I wish she was here. These things don't change the fact that I will always miss her at different times in my life and I honestly almost every September have this overwhelming sinking feeling that I'm not enough. Until I remember, again, that nothing I could have done would have ever changed anything.

I've been living my life as normal. It's nice to recognize and acknowledge the feelings and set them apart and especially for her and this time. hm. Life is still a journey. And perhaps it's this experience of losing someone so important to me, which makes me fight all that much harder for myself. I don't feel as alone as I used to, others have filled the gaps.

"It's the circle of life and it moves us all"

Whether we like it or not. Life, death, birth, hurt, love, laughter, tears, joy, aches, pains, blessings, and everything happen. It's hard to grieve and know that I'm OK. It's strange to know I can grieve and it doesn't have to mean the world is ending. Grief used to be my whole world.

But now it's a piece of my world. A piece I can take out, look at, cry over, and put back in the box. It's part of my life picture, if you will. But my picture is also filled with amazing things. Beautiful things. So if one piece is a little dark and gloomy, I think I'll be alright.

Five. It's the number of years that have passed since I last talked to my Mom. Crazy.

I still remember everything. Down to the smallest details.

Five.

Updated

2010-08-21T08:32:00.001-07:00

It's been a while since I've last splashed words on this page like so many sprinkles on a cupcake.

On Tuesday I again start University classes, this time with a very clear goal in mind. I'm working on my Early Childhood endorsement so that according to the State of Iowa I can teach little ones and teach professionally!

It's hard to believe I've been married a little over 3 months now! And if you are wondering, yes I still love it and no, I'm not pregnant. Whew. There it's out. Sometimes the ladies at work joke about me being pregnant soon and then tell me stories of their pregnancies........ not very motivating to get me to start the process. As of now, I am avoiding the stork until my endorsement is completed. Should be within the next year.

Life marches on. Hoping and praying for new job opportunities for Hubby. This opportunity is the kind he had in mind when he went back to school and he's ready for something like this to keep him enjoying complicated things like programming and fixing machines.

Our puma kitty is growing and happy. It's fun to come home to something so cute and furry. If I had more time to write, I could perhaps sprinkle thousands of words on this page. But I am content. After a few hard years, I am content with my life. It's not easy, but it's the good kind of hard work. The kind of hard work that has a good and special feeling to it. A marriage may not be something big, but ours is. It's big. And together we are better. Cheesy. True and truly cheesy.

Almost Speechless

2010-07-11T10:22:00.000-07:00

It's hard to know where to begin to write this blog. Mostly because it's difficult to put everything into words. I have felt this way before, but then it was due to pain instead of happiness.

Everyone loves a good love story....including myself.

The richness of love and relationship touches something deep in each of us. Strikes a chord that somehow each of us have.

I suppose I'd like to just begin to put into words our love story. Yet, it doesn't have words.

It's a feeling and it's an action. It's laughter and sorrow. It's weariness and energy. It's taking care of someone else and being taken care of.

Now I watch romantic movies or read books with a romance in them and can only think of us together.

I was looking at pictures from our wedding the other day and in pictures where I was by myself, all I could see were some of my flaws. But then, there was a picture with both of us, and all I could feel was love. My flaws were no longer important because the picture was us together.

That's how it should be. Us together.

If you were to ask me if our relationship is perfect, I'd say, of course not, but, just like the picture, when we work through it together, those flaws and imperfections fade. Leaving the influence not on the imperfections, but on our togetherness and love.

I have some single friends and feel so blessed to have what I do. I do not write this to discourage or brag, but mostly to say God is good. To say, life is hard, sometimes it sucks, but perseverance, courage, and bravery can pull one out on the other side and perhaps land into the joys of love. It's not easy to get through the hard stuff in life and come out on the other side, but it's possible. And I feel so victorious having pulled through so much. I'd take one day of us together, even if that's all I got. And I think my understanding of love grows deeper every day.

Self-Expression

2010-06-11T14:52:00.000-07:00

I feel most people are the most emotionally open they ever will be around the age of two. Just think about it.

You see a child in a grocery store throwing a fit and it's pretty annoying. If you have kids maybe you're just glad it's not YOUR kid, and if you don't, your just glad you DON'T have kids. Yet, whatever anyone thinks about it, that kid is EXPRESSING themselves in a loud way! Everyone knows how they feel because it's written on their face, in their tears, and in their yells.

If a child around the age of two is happy to see you, their whole entire face lights up in a way that makes you feel like you're their best friend ever. Their whole body expresses their excitement as they run up to you, arms thrown open for a hug.

A lot of the kids I work with are like this, and sometimes the amount of emotion-expressing going on in a day wears me out. They cry enough for me to feel I have nothing to complain about!

Yet another part of me sees the value. They are so young their emotions come out unedited and completely honest. They haven't learned to mask their fears, hurts, or love for fear of others. They are so dependent that their deepest needs must be made known by this intense emotion-expression. The value is the honesty, the rawness, the "I need you" factor. They're not afraid to squat down and throw a royal fit if their shoe falls off!

As they get older, they'll be able to put their own shoe back on, buy their own groceries, hug their own children, and learn to more successfully express their emotions as older children and adults. This is my hope when dealing with a two-year old's intense fits. That they would not see my disapproval of their loud fits as a discouragement for self-expression, but that they would see instead a way to more successfully and maturely deal with their emotions. I do not want them to feel their tears, hurts, joys, and laughter aren't appropriate, but only that there a million ways to express emotions, and those don't all include rolling around on the floor and screaming.

In writing this, I am merely considering how sometimes we as adults cover over or forget to emotionally-express ourselves. To let our vulnerable, I need you selves be seen by someone else. I need people. I would hate to think I must conquer this life alone. I'm glad I have people that when I see them, my whole face can light up. I'm glad I have people, that are willing to pick me up off the floor once in a while on a bad day. When I think of how those kids view and depend on me, I am humbled to have earned not only their trust, but the trust of their families. It's just a job, but when I see their faces, it seems to turn into love and smiles, and hugs. And lots of high-fives!

Ode to Camp

2010-06-09T13:54:00.000-07:00

We were all so young back then,
I picture us in our shorts, our jeans, our ponytails and
Camp dreams.
Some of us so innocent
Yet some of us had already lived a lifetime
At birth.
Although I'm not that much older,
I look back on those times,
Feeling like an adult looking on childhood.
For that time was before I knew,
Before I sought,
And before I questioned.
It's not that I feel Old.
It's just that,
I'm older.
Aren't we all?
Joy, fear, sorrow, passion, and friendship,
All mixed up into fast, hot summers.
The tears mingled with the shouted songs,
The crazy dances and
even crazier skits.
It was a time of innocence for myself,
Mixed in a time of struggle.
In the meantime, up goes the bell tower.
And I remember,
I was there.
We all were.
And even if we will all soon be forgotten,
Our footsteps crossed,
Our lives touched,
And each smile and tear
I witnessed and was given,
Fills my heart.
Although sometimes now
I wonder about God.
I treasure and believe
God mixed our lives together.
Surely we all take different paths,
Some never leaving our God and our faith.
Some wondering miles and miles away.
And always some stuck somewhere in between.
Whatever the path,
I am so thankful.
For our jeans, our shorts, our ponytails,
And Camp Dreams.
I have met a patchwork of people,
Whose paths will always lead
The world to a better place,
Whether or not they've left
the path of faith,
That led us,
To get all mixed up.
It wasn't all a Dream.
Thank you,
For being who you are,
Former and current camp leaders
Counselors
Directors
JCs
Maintenance People
Kitchen Staff
Day Camp Staff
And
Everyone else.
May your lights and passion keep shining,
Whichever path you have chosen.

Can you do all of this?

2010-06-05T06:33:00.000-07:00

Wow. We've almost been married an entire month! And let me tell you, it has been a whirlwind, in the span of a month we have:

gotten married
closed and moved into a house
gone on a honeymoon
ruined a truck
lost a wedding ring
gone on a short road trip
had house guests for three days
and now
Hubby is gone off to Canada with my
Brother-in-law, niece and father-in-law

Whew. Just typing that list made me tired!

In any case, it has been a wonderful and very full month!

Shopping with Gift Cards is like Christmas!

2010-05-30T08:01:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the generosity of many, Paul and I have been able to purchase many items for, essentially free. Well free to us anyways.

And let me tell you, most times I go to a store and they start ringing stuff up, the anxiety level goes up as the final price tag goes up. It's stressful sometimes to spend money.

Yesterday I went to Kohls, gift cards in hand, and began to pick up some essentials Paul and I needed. Such as tablecloths.

My favorite thing was handing the lady gift card after gift card until the final price was 0. That's right. NO MONEY! It was like Christmas!

Thank you again to all friends and family whose gifts have made our newly married lives just a little bit easier! I promise, I'll get back to working on those thank you notes here soon! Moving and honey mooning threw kind of a wrench into the middle of everything!

Yes. I am Tearing up Again

2010-05-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

It seems being married has reduced me to tearing up every time I happen to see or hear about love.

Like. Paul and I were watching the old episode of "The Office" when Jim pops his head in and asks Pam out on a date. And.....we both teared up.

Yes. Did I mention we're married now?!?!?!

A camp friend commented on my blog, said some really great things about marriage, and I teared up.

Because. Well, I'm married and it feels really special to be married! Sometimes I think about being married, because I am married, and my eyes fill with tears! gees louise! Hopefully I'll get used to this whole married thing!

The journey feels like it's only just begun. Which is so great! It's so much better than being engaged or being a couple. It's like wrestling through life together. It's intimidating to take on the world by yourself, yet, it all seems that much more possible when there's two of you.

And. Paul and I had the "what if I got pregnant before planned" talk. haha.

Honestly, his answer was mine too....

"I'd probably freak out for a while, and then settle down and do what needs to be done"

haha. yup. me too hubby. me too.

I'm content to be cheesy and randomly tear up for now. With just the two of us.

Although, a little dog would be nice......

How Would you Like it?

2010-05-28T14:36:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed from my last post that marriage has increased the interest factor about my life greatly.

Let me just bring you up to date...

Wedding ring lost in backyard while mowing....

Water coming up from the drain in the basement while bathing...

And a whole lot of exhaustion while moving!

So far if you asked me how I like owning a home or being married, I would say so far it's a lot of work!

Sigh.

This Monday we are off to visit the House on the Rock. Check it out here:

http://www.thehouseontherock.com/HOTR_AttractionMain.htm

It's an odd collection of random things. Apparently it takes 3 hours to see it all! We will def. be taking the camera on this trip!

Hopefully this trip will be a good break in the tediousness moving has created.

My Life just got More Interesting

2010-05-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

I have discovered today that my life as of May 8th became suddenly more interesting. Suddenly I feel like my life has become a sitcom.

It could be me trying to drive my husband's old truck to move stuff to have Sears call to deliver the washer and dryer.

It could be that I had to turn right around and head back to the smaller town we've moved too. It could be the smoking engine on the truck as I drive into said town. It could perhaps be the fact that the said truck was still smoking as the sears truck pulled up to deliver said washer and dryer.

It could be the sears truck guy saying "looks like the truck overheated a little bit" Hm. Really? I didn't even notice the SMOKE POURING FROM THE ENGINE!

And now, I am absolutely convinced everyone in this town knows I overheated my husband's truck!

Good thing my husband loves me. Good thing he probably loves me more than his old truck!

Also in sitcom land...Last night I was trying to make homemade pizza for my dear husband. Lo and Behold, we have yet to move spatulas which are very useful for cooking sausage. I did what every wife would've done....I used the thingy for cooking spaghetti to cook sausage. You know that thing you use to stir the noodles around? Luckily, it seems sausage still cooks even without the useful spatula.

Welcome to my new life as "married person". I'm thinking the journey is going to be exciting, wearying, and pretty hilarious!

Fun Fun Fun in the Sun Sun Sun!

2010-05-06T21:22:00.001-07:00

Welp, pretty soon the countdown will be over.

Which is awesome!

I'm very much looking forward to the beach! Sand, warm, warm sun! All-inclusive travel plans! Everything!

It's funny, weddings are great, but I think traveling and vacation is better, especially with someone you just married! Woo-Hoo!

I'm excited! And so the life journey continues. With just as many bumps and bruises as before, but perhaps with a little more.....support. Someone to hold my hand or bring me chocolate or give me a back rub when I need it the most. Ah.

I know married life isn't amazing. I suppose I think of it more like getting through life together. Getting through ups and downs and all arounds, as a couple, as a team. I don't expect the fairy tale. I expect the deep truth that the person you marry will love you despite yourself, and you will love that person in the same way. Whether you feel that or not. It's easy to look at someone else and only see their flaws, the person who loves you sees your flaws but loves you anyways. Those flaws you always were labeled or labeled yourself with suddenly don't seem to be so important.

Ah. I'm getting cheesy. Well. the next step is shortly upon me and next time I write here I'll be married! Wow. I'll let you know how I feel about it after that! ( :

Fair

2010-04-24T16:06:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had the feeling that life's not fair?

Sometimes that overwhelming feeling makes me want to lie on the floor and pound my fists and kick my feet just like a good old two-year old tantrum.

Wedding events approaching, I couldn't be more excited. Yet only one thing makes my heart want to slow down. To say, wait. We're missing something. Wait, I can't do this.

If you know me, and most people who read this do, you perhaps know I'm talking about my mom. Every girl is supposed to have her mom at her wedding, right?

Ah. Just another season. Another season of grief. Another life event to stop and take note. Take note of her. Her impact and her absence.

Yet, the journey continues, and I have met great people along this journey. I have the family I have now. And couldn't be more thankful.

Bittersweet as always. She'll never see my kids, but perhaps I can show them pieces of her, She won't be at my wedding, but perhaps my smile, will remind others of hers. She won't ever see or stay in my house, but perhaps her picture will make it feel more full.

I am content to grieve. To know in my grief, I remember her, and to know, she wanted me to have the most fulfilling life possible, as any mother would. To know, she'd be so happy for me.

Failures in Relation to Success

2010-04-15T04:01:00.000-07:00

Well.

Life has really picked up from average to speedy.

Plans. Houses. Dreams.

Although I am very busy right now, I also feel my future is in the palm of my hand. Together we are going to achieve our goals.

It's funny how some seasons in life everything seems to go the opposite of your way, even if you cause some of that. And other times everything seems to fall into place like a five-piece puzzle. You can see where all the pieces fit before you even start.

We found a house! A perfect house for two people starting out together. We are in the process of working toward finalizing details to acquire the house.

In other news, working with the 2-3 year olds has been, well, a lot of work lately. I love those kids, but sometimes I wish I could pass up the diaper changes and tantrums for kids just a year or so older. Another goal I am working toward.

I feel a year makes such a difference. A year ago I had no confidence about my teaching skills or relationship skills. I had no firm ideas about what I wanted from life. I felt frustrated and powerless. Yet, I know if I hadn't gone through that, I wouldn't have the drive to finally get my goals achieved now. Relationship and career goals.

I am back in school to get my Early Childhood Certificate and with 2 classes down, I already feel the pull of knowing I am supposed to teach ages 3-7, because I have knack with those little guys.

I feel life tends to straighten itself out if we give it time. I can't help but also feel God provides maturity as we fail which leads to success. Well. This is all I have time for! ( :

Why I don't Carry a Purse:

2010-03-28T11:02:00.000-07:00

The Scene:

Target.

The players:

A friend and I.

The occurrence:

My friend mentions she wants to print off some of her pics at target so I say, OK go ahead.

She prints off the pictures asks the dude if she can pay later and on we shop.

Arrival:

At pizza hut. We have a jolly meal to fill our very empty stomachs. Pepperoni stuffed crust pizza (yum) side note- I've been eating a lot of homemade pizza which is really good but sometimes I still crave the greasy pizza from an establishment.

Toward the end of the meal we are getting ready to pay.

Friend inserts hand into purse. Looks at me with wide eyes. Pulls out the pictures and says "I stole these from target!" AKA she forgot to pay exactly a $1.50 for pictures from target!

Hence.

I don't carry a purse. ( :

Maybe she'll donate a dollar fifty to worthy causes to make up for stealing from target!

I don't usually.

2010-03-20T21:20:00.000-07:00

I don't usually comment on sports here.

But today is unique.

How about them Panthers!?!?!?!

Talk about awesome. My heart got flutters watching them hold off Kansas. Watching them sink shots and play some great defense. I don't even feel sorry for the Kansas players.

It's one of those things where you realize sometimes confidence and being "THE" team isn't enough when it comes to facing a tough, stubborn team from Cedar Falls, IA.

Today, I am proud to be a UNI alumni, because they played a great game.

Go Panthers!

New Music

2010-03-12T20:45:00.001-08:00

I haven't bought a lot of music lately. But today I used the Birthday money from my fellow staff (thanks much peeps!) and purchased the newest Toby Mac CD entitled "Tonight"

I went to his concert a couple of months ago and the people I worked with seemed to be surprised by just how many lyrics I knew. Yeah. I was pumped the whole time. His concerts and music are full of energy and passion. AKA Awesome! I think it's ironic how Christian music stations will only play a couple of his songs. I think it's even more entertaining when the people that listen to the Christian radio station come to his concerts and are overwhelmed by his true style.

A few people at work hear songs on the radio and think of me! ha. I think that's really great!

Music is a beautiful thing. It's profound and silly. It's deep and yet can be so fun. It can be sexual or it can be innocent and child-like. There is sultry, smooth, fast, slow, contemplative, hyperactive, bitter, love kind of music. It can be anything and other times can be nothing. We can say so much and so little through music. It's like a glance between lovers, so heavy and yet so simple. So well placed and well meaning that we need no further explanation to feel we can understand and relate to the music.

I used to always need an explanation behind art or music. I always thought that if there wasn't a reason or explanation the piece must be meaningless. Yet, humans have such similar general feelings and thoughts. It seems we are made to at least at surface value understand one another. The words and the art. I bring my own meaning to them. Just like I bring meaning to my own life. Although the artwork may not have been made with my own brushstrokes, the artwork becomes a part of my soul as soon as it means something to me. Then, I am a piece of it and it is a piece of me. There comes the meaning.

This is the impact of all art. All music. And all writing. And maybe even all speech.

In any case

2010-03-11T20:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think about the younger me and then I remember.

In some ways. I feel so old and yet in other ways I feel so young. So what am I?

Wisdom seems to be a dime a dozen and a lot of times I struggle with what I've been taught is Truth and what really is.

I remember when I read red letters. When I clung to those promises and those seemingly endless words. I don't ever read Scripture anymore except when I go to church and even there, the stories roar up in my mind like the back of my hand and I contemplate. I contemplate the fact that I know and understand these stories from the inside out. And yet, sometimes I am skeptical. I suppose you could say the doubting Thomas. But I'm not so sure if that's even the right explanation anymore.

I always wondered how the real world worked in regards to faith. Like, when you became an adult with a family, a marriage, full-time job, and other adult responsibilities, how does faith factor in? I guess I still am not so sure. Haven't quite figured out the equation or if there even is one. Sometimes those old Bible verses still come back to me, but they seem to me a fleeting memory. Though I still would call myself Christian, I don't so much identify with that same word in the ways I used too.

I know some people have the ability to see endless miracles and signs when tragedy strikes. Yet, I am not so much that person. I used to be really bitter, and let's face it, sometimes still am. I know some people are betrayed by people that were supposed to protect or love them. And I feel their anger is justified and rightly placed. Yet, who am I supposed to be angry at when there is no one to blame? Maybe when I'm old and start expecting people to die, I won't feel so confused about things anymore. Maybe I'll stop asking questions. Maybe it will just be one of those things. Sometimes I wish someone could tell me answers. I still research lung cancer. As though maybe someone can give me some hint. Yet I come up empty-handed.

Although I am older now and it is not so strange to not have someone around, I still sometimes wonder how things would have been different. Don't we all?

In any case this post is a result of some relaxing tai chi and a couple of margaritas with work friends. I can never say the void has been filled, but there are different ways to live, and love. Different things to seek than someone gone. Than answers that may never come. But isn't each new day an answer to my questions? Isn't the answer, life goes on?

I think my questions are only questions. I think the answer is satisfactory for tonight. The truth is that I am old, but also young. I have more to learn, but there are some things I have learned. The truth is, the answers will be in my children's eyes. The answer, has to be, love.

Where the love is found, or expressed, taken, or given, that is where I feel home and that is the answer. Perhaps for each of us.

I hope in my heart of hearts, that it is the answer for all of us.

I hope.

If we MUST. We will NOT.

2010-03-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

In today's world,

Sometimes it makes me frustrated feeling like I have to or should apologize for my religious beliefs. For the fact that I do NOT and will NOT accept that any and all behaviors are OK and acceptable.

Our lax culture. Our sex-infused culture. Our devil may care attitude culture. Is one in which I feel overwhelmed by and sometimes saddened by.

Do people really think Jesus will come back and say, wow, you promoted sex and an irresponsible lifestyle to children, but, I know you didn't know any better, it's OK.

I may be one of the few to believe that somehow, someway, we will have to pay for our sins. Unless Christ has redeemed your soul, your life, and your spirit.

Yes. All should be accepted into the church door.

But please. If you already know you disagree with the church's beliefs, stay out of the church's door. We believe what we believe as you do. You may feel good calling Christians hypocrites, but it's no different than attending a Christian church and being surprised when they tell you your lifestyle is sinful. That's the basic theology.

"For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" Romans 3:23

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus" Romans 6:23

"While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" Romans 5:8

The main thread through the Gospel, the Good News, is that though sinners, we have been given salvation, new life, and hope.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old has gone and the new has come" 2 Cor. 5:17

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - his good, pleasing and perfect will." Romans 12:2

In any case. The church tells everyone they are sinful. The Christian faith is based on our own failures to be perfect and on putting our trust and hope in a God who can make us new. Give us eternal souls. It is up to you what you want to believe. The church will always tell me I am sinful, that my lifestyle is sinful, that some of the choices I make are wrong, but the main factor is, I choose to accept this condemnation because I choose to believe I need grace and love. I need someone who loves me more than all the things I've done wrong and more than all the dark places I've been. I need a savior.

Whether you do or not, is up to you. But please don't judge me for this need and I won't judge you for your lack of need. Leave the Christians to their God for judgment and we'll do the same for you. I believe what I believe. If you fault me for that, it is no skin off my back.

The Plunge

2010-02-21T11:35:00.000-08:00

At time goes by I am sitting in the local library with many thoughts mingled in my head.

Earlier today the words were clear in my heart and came through loud and clear but I suppose at the morning waxed and waned they were lost in the mist of worries over my to-do list and plans for next week.

I wish that I could hold a press conference. A gathering of people who could spread the news so I would only have to explain my situation and choices once. I suppose in some ways Tiger Woods is lucky he can do that all at one time, instead of millions of times knowing often the words will come out wrong the more times he has to explain something so difficult.

In my very depth of my soul I have chosen to fully, whole-heartedly, and without a doubt commit to someone. And in the depth of my life, I am working to reflect that. I know the first question in everyone's mind will be, what's the difference between this year and the last? Sometimes I hear him asking me that himself, in those uncertain doubtful looks.

My answer would be timing, circumstances, maturity, and familiarity.

My answer would be, I had to stop seeing myself as a child that needed looked after, and start seeing myself as a capable adult who is meant to do the looking after. A capable adult who can share the weight of life-chores, love-chores, and family-chores. My answer would be, I needed time together, to let ourselves merge more gracefully into the one I wanted us to become instead of being smooshed together and desperately running to remember my own identity. My answer would be, I needed the circumstance of a full-time job to teach me what it means to persevere and work hard and to know I still have enough left over to share with another. My answer would be, I needed the maturity of a woman instead of a girl. I needed to learn that I am not the center of the world and some days I need to set myself aside and acknowledge my actions and words reflect my character and my ability to relate. My answer would be, I needed time to become familiar with who we are together and how we work. I needed to memorize his responses and his looks, I needed to become familiar with a love that won't punk out on me when I punk out on myself. I needed to take the time to know that I could always rely on him to be there for me, even when I wouldn't even bother to be there for myself.

I can't explain anything sometimes. I know I'm not meant too. Life is lived with and without regrets and I feel we all must make the best of things.

And if you were to ask, if I'm sure now,

I would say yes, yes, and yes. Because all of the things I needed, I have times ten. I will have all the things I need the moment I say "I do".

And together we will take the plunge. And day by day we will dive a little deeper into life, hand in hand.

Car Accident on the Avenue

2010-02-14T20:24:00.001-08:00

Car Accident on the Avenue

Posted using ShareThis

I've been thinking a lot lately along these lines, death is as close as our next breath. If you have the time to follow the link it's a picture of a totaled car in which some of my family members were traveling. Amazingly, they are both as OK as they can possibly be in the circumstances.

However, death could have come a calling in this situation. I also have been thinking death is probably most difficult for us left behind. We're left with the pain, the heartache, the hole, and without the person that was special to us and loved us. The person who died, well, I suppose maybe once you're dead, that's that.

Ironically or perhaps miraculously these two family members are the same ones who drove me to Des Moines when my mother was in the ICU. It seems somewhat unfair and it's difficult to think that now they are in the ICU. In case you have never visited anyone in the ICU, once you do, you will never forget how heart-breaking it is to see someone you love in such condition. All you want to do is pick them up, wrap them in your arms, and take them away from the machines and the cold sterile room and take them somewhere warm and safe. Take them home.

Dwelling on things such as these is heavy duty. Yet the death-rate is 100%. Eventually.

Sometimes I yearn so much that I could just have my time be up. I still believe in heaven. I still believe I will be held in the arms of God. I still believe I will see my Mom again. This is why I yearn to be there. Sometimes. Especially on days when I am reminded how close death is.

In any case. It's another contemplative day.

We Are the World

2010-02-13T08:30:00.000-08:00

I posted this video (ha. yeah still learning how to do that) because I watched it and enjoyed it.

This video also made me think of the fact that all these people are coming together and how much this is probably how they all started out. Singing in Choir or with friends or at church or school.

Their voices are lovely together. It's a meaningful project.

I thought it was cheesy at first. But after watching it, I felt differently. Hopefully if you haven't seen this video by now this is your prime opportunity.

2010-02-13T08:27:00.000-08:00

Whispers.

2010-01-25T20:59:00.000-08:00

This page seemed best left untouched.
Until music on a friend's blog left words itching at my fingertips.
There are treasured moments
When the times of sands meet and
The world rights itself for
Just a brief second.
Bringing Hope.
Renewal.
Passion.
And a sense that maybe,
Just maybe,
The scars that once brought us together
And then tore us apart,
Will finally fade into the distance.
And maybe then,
We can go back,
Crawl our way back,
To being a family.
Grief rains its pouring tears down.
Grief brings flood after flood of emotion and
Heartache.
Loss brings confusion, anger, hopelessness
Loneliness.
When four become three,
Three become
Alone.
And then more alone
Before time can bring
Us back.
Before the times of sands meet in a specific spot.
How do you reach healing and wholeness?
How do you recover after losing a part of
Your family Unit.
I would say,
One day at a time.
One painstaking tear after another.
One desperate grasp for understanding
And one ounce of acceptance at a
Time.
There is plenty to miss.
But there is more to live.
The steps continue.
Years out.
The times of sands run and run and run.
Once in a while,
They run into something,
Good.
Whole.
and
Healing.

Stars

2010-01-03T21:15:00.000-08:00

When I worked at camp, one of my favorite things to do at night was to stare at the stars. They are beautiful there. Absolutely beautiful. I'd look up at the summer sky to the dots and feel safe, comfort, and awe. There is something about looking up at the stars that is calming to me.

Tonight I felt the same feeling. I don't usually bother to look up too often these days. I live in a city and the stars aren't always bright enough for me to really notice. But as I was driving, the sudden memory of looking up at the stars at camp brought me great peace. And so I looked up. Although it is a crisp and very cold Northern Iowa night (the kind of cold where you walk outside and can hardly breath), the sky was lovely. Clouds and stars combined in a symphony of comfort. Like a warm hot chocolate.

Perhaps it is God's wink to me. A reminder that He's just waiting for me to figure some things out, but that He's around, just like those stars are. I forget to look up and sometimes refuse to look up because it can be scary to think that you are so small and Something can possibly be so big. Especially when that really big thing doesn't always make a lot of sense. Sounds kind of like life.

I like the idea of stars shining on a dark night. I like the idea that there is always some sort of light shining down on us, either the sun or the sun's reflection, or the stars. It makes me think that in the midst of my own life that there is always some sort of light shining down on me. Even on those days when I try very hard to dodge that light. I'd call that light God. But more so I'd call signs of God hope. And that's what I need. I need hope.

"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" Hebrews.

I do not write on here often but when I do, the words pour from the depths of my soul and from the chambers of my heart. This is an example. I hope that you take time to look up at the stars tonight. That in the vast darkness, those stars, that light, will remind you to hope.

Love Is ____________________?

2009-12-20T21:52:00.000-08:00

Is love tangible?
Is it the brush of a hand on yours?
Or perhaps a whisper in the dark.
Maybe it's a mother's smile.
A father's approval.
Or a brother's hug.
Maybe it's a friends tears.
Or a sister's home cooking.
A child's hand sliding into yours.
Is it something you can touch?
And feel
And embrace?
Perhaps love is spirit.
Not so much something you can touch.
But it IS something you know.
A fact.
Yet, it's nothing anyone can touch.
It's like the connection that
Occurs when you look into someone else's eyes.
Eye contact is an acknowledgment of the soul.
You exist. You hurt. You bleed.
By looking into my eyes
You tell me you see me.
Love is not sex.
Though sex is a part of it.
Love runs deeper than an orgasm
Or kiss.
It's a river that runs through one person
And overflows to another.
Spirit.
It's perhaps the purest motivator of human action.
We all seek it out in one form or another.
From one person or another.
It's not hearts and happiness.
It's not butterflies and rainbows.
Love runs deeper than
Momentary flutters
Initial head over heels flight.
Though.
Those are a part of it.
It ties us together
And it rips us apart.
Love opens our hearts and
Breaks them
In the same breath.
Our souls were made to love.
Yet.
We still can't touch love.
We can't grasp the depth of
Love.
It is a comfort.
That I can't find the boundaries.
The limits of love.
That with love
You can
Hope
Dream
Believe
Grow
Live
And be comforted.

It's not so much being held as holding someone else.
It's not so much being safe as saving someone else.
It's not so much being treasured as treasuring.

I try and grasp the wings of the bird called
Love
Try and trap it and ask it questions
Understand it.
But I always end up throwing it back
Up into the air.
And

Let my own spirit overflow.

Snowed In

2009-12-11T16:07:00.000-08:00

Well if you haven't heard about the snow in the Midwest yet, now you have!

Winter storms overtook us this week as the sky dumped a lot of snow on us. Schools were closed, the mall was closed, and cars were stuck.

In any case, this season I am happy to be in town for the Christmas time. There's something about Christmas songs and Christmas feelings and Christmas miracles that make me feel peace and awe.

It's even more relevant when there's snow on the ground and the air is sharp and cold. Scarves and hats and gloves and boots and snow forts abound. I missed all of those things last year. The feeling that winter was ushering in Christmas. Perhaps I should just admit to myself that I will always love the Midwest. The fields and the land and the sky and the snow. Looking out across it all and feeling a sense of belonging. Even though I grew up in the city, I find myself more and more enchanted with the opposite. Where I work is surrounded by fields and I can look out of the window in the morning, as I'm preparing for the children, and watch the sunrise across the flat fields. It may not sound very interesting, but to me it's beautiful.

My heart is content this Christmas season. I feel that footing I lost last year has been slowly regained inch by inch and in my life and my relationship that has been a good thing. It's funny to think about a year ago now, how unsettled, worried, anxious, and overwhelmed I felt. My future, my goals, my relationship, my plans, all seemed uncertain. It's been so nice to be a bit settled in a job I enjoy with kids that bring me smiles everyday. It's also been great to set new goals for myself and to really take steps to work toward career goals I didn't know I really had.

All in all, it's been a difficult year, but not one I regret.

I think I have a lot of hope. A lot of smiles. A lot of joy. Left in me to live out. I hope you do too.

Defining Moments er Thoughts

2009-11-23T20:44:00.000-08:00

So Sunday I was driving along, thinking and contemplating, when a thought came to me.

I don't know if anyone else understands or relates to this, but this thought was kind of a defining moment...or thought..if you will. I say this because it is a thought that changed my attitude and my lack of action. Note: Not my lack of CARE but my lack of ACTION.

See. Sometimes I am a loner, a hermit, a fly under the radar kind of person when trouble or weird or hard things come my way. And sometimes, like a deck chair, I fall over in the midst of the wind of anything I don't know right away how to deal with or solve. After falling, I find a good place to burrow and dig deep. Stop.

Lately my position has been burrowed down. With just my eyes poking out to see if it's safe yet.

OK so this would all be well and good, because in all ways I am safe.

BUT I'm also missing out on everything. Absolutely everything that I know I want or need in my life. I miss out on relationships, honest conversations, honest self-prying, and love. Because it's hard to accept love when you are trying to remain....well...safe. Hidden. A hermit.

NOW. I know myself well enough to know, I've done this before. I know this feeling. And yet, I refuse to feel I should have reached this thought, this point sooner. For, I think, often times these types of life defining thoughts come at the moment we are ready to accept them. (Believe me others have told me life defining thoughts they knew would be good for me....but it doesn't mean anything until..well more on that later).

It's time to grow up. It's time to get out of the burrow. It's time to face love. It's time to risk everything. It's time to grow up.

All of a sudden. Those winds which knocked me over seem like mere gentle summer breezes. Breezes that I can move through and within. Suddenly, my attitude is I CAN DO THIS. and I WILL DO THIS. not I just don't know how to do this. Suddenly I let myself own this thought instead of merely hearing it.

I CAN.

Because it's time to grow up.

Thank goodness.

For life defining moments......uh...

thoughts.

The Yuck Factor

2009-11-18T14:33:00.000-08:00

I am utterly convinced the room I work in is a

Vomit-Producing-Machine.

Germ-Invested-Work-Environment.

Because-Everyone-Is-Getting-Sick.

It's amazing how you can use all these anti-bacterial things and bleach solutions and sanitizer, and the next day another person who either works there, or is dropped off there, is vomiting.

HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?

I know the spreading of the flu virus is expected. I mean, I'm in a room where fingers tend to wander toward the nose and mouth. Yet, there is a dim, hopeful part of me thinking that maybe, at least one of us will escape. ( I haven't).

In any case. That's been my feeling. Like you could show me in a special camerea that would reveal all the bacteria I'm carrying around and my whole body would light up like a Christmas tree! OK

So maybe I'm paranoid. I wash my hands constantly. I shower. You know. I'm clean. But as another kid goes down with it, and I myself am exposed AGAIN to it, it's hard to believe there aren't at least some microscopic germy thingys on me.

Long Sigh. OK. That's it.

DON'T TOUCH ANYONE!

You may get sick! ha. Good luck this cold and flu season!

Compilation

2009-11-07T12:18:00.000-08:00

This week I held my friend's week-old baby girl.

She was very very small!

And then watched a sad movie about grief and death and suicide.

Which made me cry quite a bit.

Sometimes when I get like that, all teary, I feel I've gone back to that college sophomore. That way awkward girl who didn't really want to talk about anything she was going through but felt the gloom and burden of grief and loss daily. (OK, so I'm still pretty awkward). But I don't usually feel doom and gloom.

I suppose more than anything it's simply frustrating. How can a young woman possibly explain that a mother's death still touches the depths of her heart four years later? And how can I possibly explain that it will always touch the depths of my heart? Sometimes I have to remember there is no one to explain anything too.

In any case. These happen to be just random thoughts today. No passionate political happenings are on my mind and no injustices have stirred my attention. Perhaps it's more of a reflection.

As my hopes grow out of tender time and words and lengthy happenings. I am very aware some days that I have chosen my own rough road. A road of twists and turns that I am partially to blame for. It seems reflection is called for before continuing and taking steps. Perhaps there comes a moment in life when one realizes that certain aspects of who you are will always hold stock in how you handle situations, events, and other people. And perhaps this process frees you to become the best parts of you and to try to overcome the worst. Perhaps it takes diving deep into the worst parts of yourself to see a way to overcome your own self.

Yet who knows. For all these words, perhaps they remain unneeded. And ourselves are only left to choose to love or to run. All pieces of ourselves aside. And maybe those pieces are what will fall in place when we finally make that choice.

That's what I'm hoping. Like a puzzle, for all the pieces of myself to be at rest and to fall into place as more and more of my heart decides the shape and frame of the puzzle. The beauty is, that despite our mistakes and consistent errors, we still get the opportunity to shape our lives, our puzzles. Into something we never dared to hope for. Perhaps that's what's important.

Hope.

Public Option

2009-10-28T19:04:00.000-07:00

Do you know what these buzzwords refer to?

If you don't, let me inform you...

This phrase refers to the consideration of a public option in the health care bill. What does that even mean?

I myself have been digging around to find some answers to this question as I don't completely understand it myself.

Generally the words "public option" have been used by political sides who are both for health care reform. One group, mostly democrats, want to make a "taxpayer-based medical insurance plan" an option for everyone (Greenman). In essence, this plan would compete with private insurance companies for business. Check out this article:

(http://www.nydailynews.com/opinions/2009/06/19/2009-06-19_whos_afraid_of_a_public_option_health_care_debate_is_stuck_on_a_strawman.html)

Pitting government health care insurance against private insurance companies? What do you think?

According to my own understanding, private insurance has only gotten MORE expensive and tends to continually cover less and less. Perhaps they could use a little competition from the government?

Here's another entertaining reference to the public option:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMuZWSvlIMY

I suppose I wouldn't make so much to-do about these things if I didn't know how widespread their effect can be. So I'm choosing to fight in small ways and hope that others are inspired to do the same.

NewsWorthy

2009-10-25T07:40:00.000-07:00

I recently watched the new documentary by a certain Mr. Moore entitled "Capitalism".

There were many interesting facts and points in this movie, however, what I mainly gained from it was that for a while I have not had any clear ideas about what is really going on in our government and country.

For example, did you know that recently some "rogue" democrats attempted to commit voter fraud by falsely filling out absentee ballots for residents who never actually filled out any such ballot? (Fox News)

Or that President Obama attempted to essentially boycott Fox news from interviews with key people because of their viewpoints on certain issues? Lucky for Fox all the other news networks stood up for Fox essentially because they all felt that no matter Fox's viewpoints, the President had still crossed a line. (http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/10/23/eveningnews/main5415921.shtml?tag=stack)

Another plant is closing down in Iowa, in Webster City. Over 800 jobs are going to Mexico where workers are paid $2.50 an hour. Because of the unions, workers in Webster City were paid over $16.00 an hour. (http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20091024/NEWS/91024005/1001/)

Perhaps Mexicans would be better off going back to Mexico. At least they would have a job, only if it does only pay $2.50 an hour.

And you know the irony in all this, the workers in Webster City weren't even outraged or surprised, they knew it was coming. Although the news is disappointing, no one even thinks to bat an eye.

I recently watched another documentary on HBO about the clothing and fashion industry and with shows like "America's Next Top Model" and "Project Runway" one would gather the impression that the glimmer of fashion is lucrative and well off. Not so much. The documentary "Schmatta: Rags to Riches to Rags" documents the growth of the garment production in New York and the eventual failure of the factories as everything was outsourced. Now, about %5 of all clothes bought in the US are made in the United States. No big deal, though, right? ( http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/schmatta/synopsis.html )

Does anyone ever stop to think about the fact that America is setting itself up for failure? We have imposed many sanctions in the past on other countries whose policies or actions we didn't agree with. We had the power to do so because of our production. But what would happen if suddenly these countries producing all of our goods suddenly decided to impose sanctions on us? Who would remember how to make cars, clothes, toys, machinary?

In Miami many condos and homes are sitting empty as a result of foreclosers. You would think someone would be around to buy up the properties. Not so much. Instead these homes sit empty and people are starting to take back what the banks have taken from them. By squatting, by protesting, by remaining in their own homes despite the foreclosures and evictions. And how are local authorities reacting to people who enter and live in borded up homes? They aren't. ( http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=385x264995 )

There is a rally in Chicago I wish I could go to on Tuesday. Although I cannot attend, I will be following the events closely. Check out what's going on at http://www.showdowninchicago.org/

Whatever your viewpoints, it's important to at least try and sort through what's going on and take a stand for something. Because we, the American people, are the ones who are losing out. We are losing our jobs, our homes, and our sense of independence. Your job may be next. As may your home.

Take a stand.

For something anyways.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

2009-10-11T16:07:00.000-07:00

Babies.

As of this month I will have gone to three baby showers. Awe. One for my good friend. One for a coworker and one for a cousin. I went to target and got little booties and other gift registered baby things.

The irony of this all is that at my job early in the mornings I work with infants every day. And it turns out they are not so scary as I once thought. Granted, my current expertise are two-three year olds, but I do love the babies too. I have never thought so much about pregnancy, babies, and motherhood!

Although I know I'm def. NOT READY for the HUGE responsibility that comes with birthing and raising a child, it's def. something I'm able to picture more easily. Minus the birthing. Of course.

I am happy and excited for these new moms and I'm so very excited to babysit for my friend Sarah when her little one happens along. To hold brand new life in my hands reminds me not only of where I come from, but also of how fast it all goes. Even my two and threes grow bigger and change every single day.

Even I am getting older too.

Someday I'll have white hair and be all wrinkly and unable to do much for myself. We all return to where we started. My hope is that I will look back on my youth with humor and kindness toward myself and be able to see that somehow my mistakes were made into miracles. And that in turn, I can tell my grandchildren about the young me and all things past. And they will shake their heads and go "whatever grandma".

Circles

2009-09-30T20:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my thoughts chase in circles and I wonder
And wonder if everything is actually going to work out.
Because some part of me still doesn't know.
I think a lot about things.
About how things change
And how some things don't.
About old friends and how
They have changed
And haven't.
I don't know if the
Changes will mean good
Or bad things for any of them.
Yet it seems we've all lost our idealism somewhere
Between the here and there.
Youth passes us by in a flurry and
Even I don't feel young anymore.
Though some would call me so.
I look on with weariness at the paths
I've chosen and haven't chosen.
It is a hard thing sometimes
To try to look back and
Forward at the
Same time.
There's this part in the Bible
Where the main theme is
Everything is meaningless.
I feel overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed with the kids in my
Room
Who at two or three
Have more tragedy and hardship
Than I.
And they have no control or
WORDS to put to it.
Their sorrow and pain
Comes out in cries and screams.
In opposition to anyone
Who might care for them.
They've already learned to
Not trust.
Not speak.
Not hope.
I feel overwhelmed.
Because they are so little
And I can do so little.
My heart wants to
Protect them.
To shelter them.
And tell them
They will be OK.
But I don't know that.
I can't say that.
And as far as I can tell,
It won't be OK.
How can we just say
It's sad.
Why doesn't their suffering
Touch a corner
A mere corner of our hearts.
Although whose to say it doesn't.
They are just all depending on me it seems.
All those little ones.
Every day.
And every day I try the best I can
To love them and teach them.
Is that enough?
Is it ever enough?
I go to bed searching for answers
Searching for ideas.
Searching for explanations and
Getting up the next morning and worrying
About them all over again.
I know they aren't my burden to carry.
Yet when they look to me for everything,
I don't feel I'm enough.
So my thoughts go in circles.
As I realize yet again,
I can't save them.
I can only love them for the time
I see them.

Cargo Pants and Tears/Are there enough words?

2009-09-20T13:02:00.000-07:00

I have this friend who always used to wear these cargo pants with all these pockets. She wore them so much that it became part of what I associated her with. Pockets, baggy, cool, cargo pants. Her up-to-date phone would always be stored neatly away in one of the pockets and her wallet always in easy reach in a back pocket.

Don't ask me why I remember these particular things. I could say something about someone else who matches and is always cute looking. Another friend wears long skirts and shirts. Loves head scarves and comfy but interesting shoes. These are things I remember. I store away.

In any case. I have never owned a pair of cargo pants and have lately become interested in fashion. Mostly because I discovered I have a love of skirts. This discovery has led me to think that perhaps I like other things that would be considered "cute". or "fashionable". So once in a while, I find a shirt in a store considered fashionable that is my style. In such a store I discovered cargo pants on sale. Automatically I thought, cool! I picked out a color and tried them on and transformed myself into a cargo-wearing lady. They are just the right amount of baggy and tight. Just look good enough to make me feel "cool". But part of me thinks that the reason I really wanted them was perhaps as a tribute to my friend who lives in another state and who I think of often. I was never the cool girl, never really the one that got invited, and never really felt sad about that. But. When my mom died, this friend invited. And that to me. Is enough.

Tears came flowing down today because I watched a video about some parents whose son had gotten killed in a head-on crash. As I watched their raw emotion, my own tears came unflowing and I wept. My grief flowed over me and there was nothing to hold back. I cried. I can't believe it's been four years. Can anyone ever know how that is? To just cry. I've been holding back those tears since the date. Perhaps thinking, it's been this long, maybe I'm OK. But my heart still feels torn to pieces sometimes when I think about it. When I think about my family. My sobs and cries seem to go on through the years as a young girl's heart turning into a woman's mourns her mother's absence.

So I put on the old music. The music I listened to over and over and over again whenever I would feel sad about my mom. Music by Matt Kearney, a song by Superchick. Songs that brought about tears and songs that I could turn up loud and maybe drown out the overwhelming grief. To listen to them again is a reminder. A reminder of her. And a reminder of the impact she had on my life. A reminder to grieve when my spirit needs it. I have pain. I carry scars. And sometimes I feel so lost and sad. Without her. But I am still OK. My smile and my passion for the kids carry me through. Having someone whose been willing to walk a very difficult road relationally with me and loved me through it all reminds me to remember mom in a humble and move-forward kind of way. Nothing will ever change the pain of my mother's death. And

I still miss her.

How I wish she hadn't missed out on these last four years. How deeply I wish she could have seen me grow. I wish I could call her up and ask her about life. Though these are wishes, don't get down on me for wishing. These thoughts are fleeting and tomorrow is a new day.

Four

2009-09-09T20:39:00.000-07:00

My mother died 4 years ago today.
I can't believe it has been that long.

It's funny how life continues to push you forward.

In any case,

I miss the person that was so proud of me.
I miss the person I felt I could relate to the most in my family.

I remember the last time I talked with her.

I remember the worry head-aches I constantly had my sophomore year at college because I didn't know when the cancer would win.

I remember the daily phone calls from my dad updating me on the status of things.
I remember getting called on a Thursday with the news that she was in the ICU and could die anytime.

3 seems to be the magic number. It's the number of weeks we knew about the cancer before she died.

It was a crazy, mixed-up time.

My friends put up with my moody grief. With my daily depression. With my lack of care about anything. Despite the fact that I hated life at the time, they still invited me. Constantly invited me.

And as I dug my way through a myriad of emotions, they sought to sit with me, hug me, talk to me. When otherwise I would have been alone.

One of my good friends even wrote a song for me.

"Set me high upon this rock"

OK so it was about Hurricane Katrina as well, but you know, I inspired some of it.

I am at such a different place in my life. No longer in college. Full-time job with the cutest kids I know. In a relationship.

It's strange to think my mom has now missed four years of my life.

I know she wanted to be there for me.

I know she would so be here if it was possible. I know she'd say she was proud and tell me she loves me when I call her and send me postcards.

Sigh.

I'll never have anyone like that in my life again. No one could ever do her job or play her role in my life. That empty spot still sometimes feels like a gaping hole.

There will always be a piece of me that misses her.

Today I honor her by remember those pieces of her that are pieces of me.

voice in the desert. Hope.

2009-08-30T00:13:00.000-07:00

You once called him
"The voice of one calling out in the desert"
Where are You?
I feel and see a weariness in my spirit.
I want to save the world and be
That voice.
I see my friends going places unsafe
Tears run down for them
As I fear for them every night.
I know I'm not their Savior
But then again,
Who is?
I'm trying so hard to find You again.
In the midst of this desert and these questions.
To lose faith
Is to lose Hope.
I can't save everyone.
I can't convince anyone.
Yet my spirit and my soul grieves for them.
I want to let this be that and
Be content to let them
Live as they choose.
I pray daily
And yet they would turn
Their backs on those prayers.
For reasons I can't grasp.
Is it so easy?
To run from You?
I am mocked for my faith.
In the background and
Then again on endless pages.
Indirectly.
I am seen as a bigot.
A hypocrite.
Two-faced.
By pointing to Christ,
I am seen as the enemy.
I haven't seen anyone else volunteer to
Hang on a cross lately.
It might be,
Nothing against Christians...
Or.
As long as you don't state your views...
We're OK with you.
Perhaps I am simply perusing the other side of things
For the first time in my life.
And after repeated travels into that side,
I am dying for a taste of authenticity again.
For a small taste of the honey of hope on my lips.
A bit of living for something true and deep and rich.
A belief in a love
That transcends understanding.
Of words that jump off of a page
And cut to the heart.
Living for something more.
You may have your hopelessness.
Your reckless living.
I do not walk away because I am better than you.
I walk away because I admit
I need something to hope in besides myself.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13

Career Days

2009-08-21T15:26:00.000-07:00

In the midst of loving my job, I have taken so far successful steps to update my teaching license to include the little ones.

23 seems to be the magic number. 23 hours. A bit over a semester's worth of classes.

Although I couldn't have imagined wanting to go back to school after student teaching, I can't wait to go back to school for better ideas and more ideas for working with the wee ones.

Their smiles and eagerness to learn have won over my heart and I doubt I'll really desire to go back into anything higher than second grade.

I love my job. I love the people I work with and the parents of the kids are, for the most part, very understanding. It's fun to be considering making this love of mine into a long-term reality.

These kids are so worth it to me. I love when they run into my arms just to say "hi" or when they say "hug!" just to get a little extra love. I love hearing them talk and learn to communicate and watching their little smiles when they come over with a big smile and say, "I shared!". That's a big thing for a two-year old!

Even on a beaten-down Friday, their smiles and laughter bring me happy feelings!

Journey pish posh. where's the Destination.

2009-08-08T11:48:00.000-07:00

Do you ever breath a big sigh of relief once a long journey has concluded?

I mean, I know people say that the joy and life is in the journey and not the destination. But, seriously, who really believes that? Especially when the journey is painful?

I've been on a long journey of thoughts considering love and relationships and finally the pieces are beginning to come together. It's a very hard journey to describe as it happened mostly in my head.

Although the journey has been painful, we both have become better people because of it. As the steps in the journey continue, I feel the ending of this particular journey drawing near and the sighs of relief i'm breathing are so relaxing.

I know this journey is not over and I still have more steps to take, but it really helps having a sure direction. A goal to walk toward. Hand in hand.

In any case. So much for the journey!

The steps I'm taking will take me to the destination. It's always easier to do life when you have your goals in mind ( :

Jaded

2009-08-02T12:27:00.001-07:00

When I was younger, only five years ago, I saw only goodness in the world.

In people. In situations. In general.

Some people can go through so much and stay so positive. They're great at taking the things that come into their life with grace and nonchalance. They are honest about the world, but still insist on believing good. That it exists.

Then there are others who go through so much and retreat inside themselves. They learn to suspect everyone and become fearful of all possible outcomes.

Today I feel like the second person described. It seems wired into me that no matter what, I am going to have to do things on my own. And so sometimes I retreat inside myself, looking for the strength to get me through another day.

I can point to a lot of the sources of the fear. It's held me back from what I know I want. Because the fear that others spoke erased my belief in goodness and made me instead suspicious.

It's good to be aware of all sides of someone or a situation. But if you only suspect bad things, you will only see bad things.

Seeing this change in myself brings sadness. The fact that I can't look at anything or anyone without suspecting the worst of them. I never used to do that. I used to love different people and passions. And art. I used to trust the people close to me. That they would be there and support me no matter what I chose.

The impact fear has had over my life over the last year is shameful. Yet I can't take it back. Not a single piece. I feel like instead of my life being an amazing puzzle that is working out to a sweet picture, it's turning out to be a somehow dark, fuzzy, confusing blob of confusion.

Jaded.

Life is complicated.

This morning I was eating at the local waffle place and sitting next to this older guy at the counter. During the course of me being there, this man paid for the elderly woman's meal at another table. She was just eating by herself and he paid for her. One of the wait staff told him, you know you just made her day right? and he said "she made mine".

There is goodness. In me. In the people I meet. And in the people I love. We all have our bad sides and our bad days, but that simple gesture reminded me that I don't have to be fearful, jaded, or suspicious. By being my quirky self, my true self, and especially my honest self, I can make anyone's day.

The Job.

2009-07-28T14:13:00.000-07:00

Sigh.

Today was a good, full, happy day.

The day consisted of nine small ones. Books about music, including "The Seals On the Bus". CDs full of music from Asia and Africa.

A little bit of a dribble in piano playing so my children could hear what a piano sounds like. We made it a game by starting out with the lowest key and as I moved up the piano toward the highest sounds I would say, "should I go even higher?!" "Yes!" We talked about how hard you must practice to become skilled at an instrument. I am planning on taking my guitar in tomorrow and perhaps a trumpet on Thursday. They all got a chance to play a few notes on the piano. Cute.

At lunch we are just starting family style meals. The kids are learning to serve themselves and pass the bowl on. They did pretty well with the exception of one small child grabbing a sliced pear out of the bowl and eating it with her fingers. ( :

Now I'm listening to a CD full of kiddie songs that my director loaned me. Ha.

As of now, my kids can say good morning in Spanish, milk, count up to ten, and say good-bye. Pretty good for kids that don't even know all their native language words yet!

Sometimes I wish I had more dramatic stories or interesting happenings. But the fact of the matter is, I love my job and every day seems to be a good day. The kids are cute and love to learn. Their little smiles just bring me so much joy.

This job combines my love for little ones and my desire to be behind the scenes. I get direct communication with all the parents every morning and am responsible for knowing their schedules and special requests. Often the children talk about what they do at school with their parents. I am responsible for the organization and administration of my room.

I love this age in many ways. Hence, Loving my job. I am contemplating seriously adding an early childhood certificate to my degree so that I may remain with this age group.

A Thousand Years

2009-07-19T10:46:00.000-07:00

I wonder if everyone reaches a point of weariness.

A point where they see old friends and suddenly feel like they've lived a thousand years since that time. Their viewpoints, their lives, and their hearts have been put through the wringer and they realize that who they were then will never be who they are now. Perhaps it is not so much living a thousand years as much as a loss of innocence.

Some of us lose our innocence very early in life, while others live years and years in blissful ignorance.

Pain, grief, turbulence, and heartache have no favorites and rarely avoid us.

Every new day I start out seeing it as a chasm of endless possibilities and choices. I could go here, there, be with that person, eat this, see them, get offended, watch this show, go home, eat chocolate, eat grapes, not eat....... and everyday I think about the What Ifs of the choices I don't choose.

The last two years of my life have been full of large choices. Some every day little choices don't make that much difference, but it's the big choices that can throw your life off course and send you into a space you didn't know existed and leave you with a loss of innocence. A loss of yourself. A loss of your soul. It's wearisome to think about the big choices I made. If I could edit my book of life, I can name some things I'd change. But I'm already on the next chapter. The best thing to do is to work with where I am now. To make an effort to make the next chapters at least more focused than the last few. I'm finally thinking about my adult life goals.

In any case. When I see old friends in which time has erased knowledge of their hearts and lives and those friendships are composed of no more than old memories, the weight of a thousand lives and all the daily decisions weighs me down. I am growing away from who I was but who am I now?

Perhaps it is only a sadness that comes with that loss of innocence. With that feeling of having lived a thousand years. A simple grief that exists when you come into contact with people you once had so much in common with.

Maybe one day. One day my eternal soul will meet with theirs and all will be revealed and we will be able to look on each other with understanding. The weariness lifted from our hearts and joy in our eyes. I envy the joy they so easily expressed and I once was able to easily express. Sometimes I think I just worry too much.

To old camp friends. Our souls once touched in a beautiful dance and we all were one. I treasure that time for what it was and look back with fondness. My story has gone on without many of you but your faces I won't forget. May our eternal souls meet again and may we all be one.

The Awakening

2009-07-14T14:07:00.000-07:00

My very favorite part of my day at work happens a bit before I leave.

We put all the little ones down for a nap in the afternoons. No, this is not my favorite part of the day, although it makes for a good lunch break.

My very favorite part of the day is the awakening. It is when the little ones open their sleepy eyes and are refreshed and lovely. I don't know why, but seeing their little faces after a good nap and saying, awe, did you just wake up? "Yup" Can I have a good morning hug? "yup". After which little arms wrap around me and cute sleepy smiles are had.

There is so much joy in this simple time. I am in SUCH a GREAT mood when I leave because I got to see all their little faces come awake and alive. They are lovely little ones. Their little hugs and smiles bring peace and awe to my spirit. These are the untainted ones. The ones who still have to learn that this world can be a hard and unloving place. They trust others to hold their little hands. They trust nothing will happen to them as they lay on their little cots and sleep. I'm beginning to enjoy their little hugs, how they slide into your lap unnoticed, how they assume you have all the love in the world to give them, how they have all the love in the world to give.

I love the awakening! ( :

"Can I have a hug?"

"Yup"

"We Were Happy Here"

2009-07-09T15:36:00.000-07:00

This is a quote out of a book I recently read called The Shadow Catcher by Marianne Wiggins.

The theme focuses on the past. It is about a woman who looks at a picture of her parents when she likes to think their thoughts are "we were happy here". It is a picture of them together having a good time, before her father disappeared.

Sometimes I feel this is my theme. Deeper thoughts seem to be planting their roots in me and my more reflective side has finally been reawakened after a long sleep. Today I am thinking of the concept of home.

To some people my age and even older, they still call their parents' house "home". They feel safe there and they feel a comfy loving feel when they go. I think I stopped calling my childhood home "home" after my mother died. I can't explain the feeling in words ever. The only way to touch on this is to say home cannot feel like home when it feels like one-half of your roots are abruptly lost without too much time or explanation. Reading this book was interesting. My mom lived. Oh she lived. And I have pictures of me, my dad, my mom, and my brother standing and smiling and we all seem to say with our smiles "we are happy". I used to look back on these times with the highest devotion. Treating them as sacred times and memories that couldn't ever be topped.

Grief has no time or place. Taking in stock how even today my life has been affected by the absence of a mother as I morph into the adult world sometimes leaves me feeling really alone. We all desire some sort of guidance from someone who loves us unconditionally and treats us as their child. My grief today is different. I do not feel sorry for myself or think my world is over. I merely am observing the empty spaces she left and working to grow up the best I can.

The little ones have had me exhausted all this week. Sometimes chasing down two year olds is tiring.

Quick story:

I was putting them down for a nap earlier this week and this boy who NEVER has trouble falling asleep spent about an hour tossing and turning on his cot. I had sat by him and patted him and rubbed his back and was beginning to get really frustrated that he just wasn't sleeping yet. UGH.

So finally I asked him, What's wrong?!?! What do you need? He said ONE word

"juice"

Sigh. really? so i went and got him a cup of water and he chugged it down and three minutes later was sleeping.

Simple. So simple. Can you even picture all you have to worry about is a cup of water? When i toss and turn at night, it usually involves life worries, what ifs, and what do I do now? They remind me some days that life does not require too many complications. And that I should be grateful for a bed to sleep in, water to drink, food to eat, and people to hug. Because these are the redeeming qualities in a sometimes upside down world. A hug from a friend, a good meal, and a good night's sleep.

Oh dear little ones. Your sometimes innocence is precious.

(Un)Pregnancy and The Future

2009-07-05T14:27:00.000-07:00

In the place I've been working at, I work with three lovely ladies currently experiencing the excitement of carrying a little tiny life inside of them. Sometimes when I am with them, I feel like a little girl who just wants to ask her mommy millions of questions about the growing life. While at the same time, realizing the power I have within my own body and reproductive system to do the same. And I find myself looking down at my belly and marveling at the fact that someday there could be a baby in there. Weird.

I also watched the show 16 & pregnant on MTV yesterday. It was interesting to watch boys just growing into men trying to be men for their pregnant girlfriends. Often, the reality of the responsibility that comes with a child falls on the mother while the father skirts the burdens of the baby. It's weird to watch shows like that and picture who I know I want to be there being there with me, because, before, I couldn't picture that.

Thinking about child-bearing and child-rearing makes me think about my future and what I want. It makes me think about what it means not only to be a woman but also a man. What kind of man does it take to be a good father and husband? I think I know. And I think I know him.

Yet. Intuitively. I still feel a need to grow up just a little bit more first. To stand on my own. To support myself. Intuitively, I know I am still a girl just now learning what it means to be a woman. A woman who will make a good wife and mother. And ALTHOUGH that statement sounds so traditional, intuitively, I see those things being a part of my life.

I am learning and thinking about what it means to be an individual apart from the family of my childhood. I am learning and thinking about what it means to see myself as an adult ALONGSIDE my family instead of UNDER or IN my family. Some of the revelations that come with that are hard and some beautiful. It's like anything, I don't have to be defined by my family's perspective or personal beliefs or viewpoints.

I know I am not financially or relationally ready for a child, but I think these thoughts have forced me to take on a more adult attitude. An attitude of life goals and dreams beyond a career and degree. Getting my degree and graduating was my focus for four and a half years. I guess now it's time for me to grow up. Really grow up. And grow into my own. Into myself.

I can be who I want to be. And each step further into adulthood will encourage my adult identity. I guess what I want to be set free from is

childhood.

Welcome to the world. Welcome to responsibility. Welcome to hard work. We hope you enjoy your stay. Make the most of it. Children may be carefree, but they also are not free. Not free to really decide who they want to be and where they want to go.

I have the power to decide those things. As an adult. It's time I start seeing myself that way.

I know even now that the hardest part about becoming a woman is the lack of my mother. I have been resisting and resisting this transition because she isn't here to be a part of it. Because some days, I don't know who to talk to about what it means to grow up and be a woman. Yet, I can't keep resisting. The longer I see myself as an adolescent, the longer I will be seen as one. So here I go. I will do the best I can.

And an adult I shall be.

Little Ones

2009-06-30T04:34:00.000-07:00

I'm getting ready for the little ones again today.

It's officially my second week and I'm still loving the little ones.

Their cute little faces and their honesty get me every time.

It's hard to explain how two and three year olds are. Because they just are.

For the second time in my life (the first time being day camp) I love my job. I go to work every day to eight little smiling faces. Giggles and the ABCs. Nap time and the 123s. I get to pick out all the books, teach all my own lessons (NOT for a GRADE!), pick out art projects for little hands, and love love love.

They are cute and so teachable. So excited about absolutely everything. And I love it.

Second Chances.

2009-06-22T19:04:00.001-07:00

I suppose I gave in tonight. I watched as an entire family was placed under the microscope. A family containing eight children and one failed marriage.

Most everyone, unless you live under a rock, probably knows who I'm talking about.

I have many thoughts and feelings about this. Yet, who can even know what was going on in their intimate lives?

It's so easy to look in from the outside and think you know exactly what went wrong or why certain things didn't work out. These two people, this former husband and wife, are that. Two people. Two people who have hurt and frustrated each other. Who decided the best way to move forward was to find an exit strategy. Working through the bitterness, betrayal, and resentment that can foster if unaddressed is difficult. It brings out the best and worst in two people.

I suppose I wish we could have watched them work through those issues instead of watching those things tear them apart. Have Americans really become so bad at real-life communication? How have our examples become families who don't even know how to talk to each other?

In the same breath, I think to myself, who am I. Who am I to pass judgement on these people? I see the pain in each of their eyes and I'm reminded of how much I can relate. Wanting to be a team but feeling disconnected. Wanting to be together but not wanting to lose my independent spirit. Wanting desperately to honestly and openly communicate, but fearing the result. Fearing my vulnerability will lead me into danger.

They have taken a different route. The exit strategy instead of the exit ramp with a viewpoint. Viewpoints which include different perspectives and the grace of second chances. Viewpoints which can take time to take in, but offer all the beauty of any beautiful stop.

I don't know what will happen either. In their lives or mine. I want to be able to say that I gave it all that I had. That we took our second chance and made the absolute most of it. That the second chance, not the first one, is what saved our lives.

A friend use to say, Our God is the God of second chances.

We all need a second chance.

All of us.

In the Land of Twos and Threes: Brief Intro

2009-06-17T13:32:00.000-07:00

Naps are the best thing ever.

Dirty shoes constitute a worried scrunched up face and maybe some tears.

Laps are the best resting and reading location.

Smiles and laughter are commonplace.

Songs make everyone wiggle with delight.

Little hands wrap around my fingers.

Books and Words are items of much amazement.

Temper tantrums only last two minutes.

Mr. Potatoe Head can never decide what hat to wear.

It's fun to work with these little ones. To choose books and songs for them to sing. We are working on numbers and ABCs. Colors and Shapes.

Lots of Play. A sprinkle of Learning. And a bit of Love. Finally I can fall in love with a group of kids because I will see them again and again and again. For more than one day. Happy Sigh. It feels nice to have some consistency again.

Can I?

2009-06-12T22:42:00.000-07:00

life is funny.

things can change so fast. jobs. friends. locations. popular music. a home can burn down. a house can be built. friendships can be started and relationships can end. you can lose a job. a new job can reenergize. our looks can be covered up or spliced off. we can get nose jobs. boob jobs. piercings. tattoes. we can lose our family. we can lose our hairbrush.

the point is.

life changes. we change. our outsides and our insides. we change our thoughts, views, perspectives, and ideas. We change our passions.

Parts of this are beautiful. The changes that come grow us into better and more mature people.

Parts of this are ugly. Sometimes these things bring out the worst in us despite our best efforts.

It's like we go through times of deep growing pains. Everything seems uncomfortable and hurts and like we just don't quite fit. Seasons of these times come and go. And it hurts. It hurts so much sometimes to have to grow up. To realize more of the world is possibly cruel than good.

My scared little wings are finally getting the courage to stretch out. I don't want to hope that I can possibly fly, because I am so scared of falling. But I feel them stretching out all the same. I can only hide for so long. I miss flying. I miss being myself. And finding joy in simple things. I miss my smile. I miss feeling free.

I am the only one who has the power to clip my wings.

I am looking back at my wings, watching them stretch out on their own accord. Part of me is looking with fear and part of me is saying no to the fear every time they stretch out a little bit more. I don't know exactly what it all means. But it is how I feel.

"Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world.

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old." Snow Patrol Lyrics.

I hope as change comes, that it brings out the best in us. I hope finally we can see each other's wings instead of the fear in each other's eyes. It is not too much to hope that maybe, just maybe we can fly together.

Fly with us.

Gifts

2009-06-10T22:47:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went and watched another terrible movie with a friend. I will not name the movie unless so asked.

And upon arriving, my friend tells me she has bought something for me b/c she thought of me. Awe. That's kinda nice right?

Full of curiosity (especially since my last gift from a friend happened to be a recorded song) I asked her what it was.

Steak-flavored potatoe chips!!!!!!

Not even kidding. Totally taste like steak! And I. Love. Steak.

Amazingness.

Although, I do have to add that it's weird to eat something that tastes like steak and yet is crunchy instead of chewy gooey meatness. Odd.

Question of the Day Which Has No Good Response:

Can you give yourself fully to someone without losing yourself at the same time?

So far: No firm conclusions. Just a realization that this at least is my fear. I don't want to lose myself. My identity. My personality. I don't want to live my life for another, just with another. Is there a difference? When does wanting to live with another, turn into living for another? Would I lose my passions to gain a great love? Or, does my love simply become an additional passion? Talk about confusing. I wish I had thought about all of these things before. They are important.

Drops in the Bucket

2009-06-07T13:44:00.000-07:00

It's funny how some days are so pure
It seems they are sent from heaven.
They are the days you never want to end.
Days where love is exchanged
As well as laughter, stories, and pains.
Sitting by a river and talking.
Dangling feet.
Other days seem like drops in the
Just be over now bucket.
Painful. Hard.
Days when the past seems to rule over you and
You can't get out.
I'm thankful for the days that happened this week.
The pure ones and the discard ones.
It's hard to be reminded of a season and a time.
Questions seem to be a common factor in life.
I am left again with many questions.
Parts of me are still that girl.
The one that gets quiet and stubborn.
The one that wallows when
I could be joyful.
And so many more things.
In retrospect
I think I am realizing
That I really haven't had to
Come to terms with myself lately.
To take a good look inside and admit
The things, both good and bad,
That still lurk there.
Even though it's painful,
It's also healthy
To know those things.
I know that those close to me never have
And won't give up on me.
This is encouragement.
As I sift through the things
That I've left on the shelf for so long.
I must admit that even more than mistakes,
Are things I do intentionally
That are not the best for me
Or those I'm close too.
We all are this way to some extent.
But as the commercials say
I want to be one less person.
One less person to leave my crap on the shelf
And not deal with it.
I don't want to walk around stuck with all this stuff
That I haven't addressed.
Taking a good look at yourself
Is never easy.
Something gross is always bound to pop up.
But it doesn't mean
You are unloveable
Or unworthy.
I think once those things are off the shelf and in my journal,
I can get back to having consistent
Days.
Days that are pure.
Days that I won't want to end.
This process took a lot of work the first time around,
But in the end I came out stronger.
And almost every day,
Was a good day.

The Burning of the Iowa Sun.

2009-06-05T08:18:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here with random parts of my body feeling as though I am on fire. I wish I could say it's because of the passionate loving I'm experiencing, ha, but no, it's sunburn.

As my Colorado friend told me, the sun doesn't shine in Iowa. Hence both my other Iowa friend and I got fried because, yesterday, the sun chose to make an appearance.

This sunburn reminds me of another time I got myself a nice burn.

It was a few years ago and I went on this crazy road trip with a group of girls. I mean crazy. Long hours in a car with four girls I didn't know very well and one I did know well. It. Was. Awesome.

Anyways, one day on our trip we decided to visit the beach. I love the beach and sand and all things water. Thinking not much of it, I splashed a little lotion on myself and proceeded to enjoy my day. It was a lovely day.

Upon arriving back to the hotel, the girls and I discover my sunburn. It was flaming red intense. Red. The funniest and saddest part about this sunburn is that I managed to give myself handprints, white handprints in the midst of a sunburnt back. This was the one spot I'd managed to reach by myself with the lotion.

So this morning, as I lather my burnt skin with lotion, I write a tribute to my worst sunburn ever. I'll only say this in addition, it's funny how there are just some things we can't do by ourselves. My refusul to let someone slather my back with lotion the first time required me to allow someone to slather my back with lotion for the next three days. Funny how we sometimes resist help until we get burned. Oh wait, this story is about me ( :

Second Chances

2009-06-02T06:55:00.000-07:00

Hope.

With change can come hope.

For once,

i am hopeful.

We all get second chances.

Sometimes it takes a good shove to inspire us to move, change, or grow.

We can all change.

As long as it comes from inside ourselves, our own hearts.

We do not have to be defined by our childhoods or parents.

We can claim freedom.

I hope I inspire someone today.

I hope you inspire someone today.

I hope you are inspired today.

To hope, to love, to give a second chance, or to give yourself a second chance.

Especially to hope.

Where do we go from here?

2009-05-27T20:32:00.000-07:00

This is what I am thinking.

Sometimes walking away from something is

Healthy.

Other times,

It's the opposite.

I'm not one to throw it all out there.

On a prior blog of mine,

My emotions and life were splashed across the page.

A mess.

So I'll only say this,

That I don't know

Where to go from here.

I know there is a future

Beyond the one we planned and pictured.

But now instead of putting pieces into the puzzle

It seems we are slowly taking it apart.

I grow weary running it over

In my heart and in my head.

Where do we go from here?

I suppose we go forward.

As best we can.

The Cover of Darkness (Closet)

2009-05-21T23:02:00.001-07:00

Whoosh
Whoosh
The rythmic sounds sets my heart faster and faster
My arms cut through the thick
Night air.
I spin around only to
Spin again.
Backwards.
Forwards.
I am me
In this place.
When I can hide
Beneath the cover of darkness
And barely lit streetlights.
No one hears the hymns I sing
Or hears the sounds I make.
They are all inside.
Their T.V.s flashing.
Unknowing that I am
Looking in on
Their world.
I used to go into empty spaces
And cry out.
My pain.
My grief.
My sorrow.
Everything.
Dear God.
Why.
And I would seemingly
Perfectly
Move gracefully
Jumping and Flowing.
This is my outlet.
The one place I can go and pour myself
Completely into.
Where my worries are washed
Away into a basin of speed
And sound.
I like to think that out there I am nameless.
Only my grace, my spins, and my jumps
Define me.
I am God's creature.
Beautiful in motion.
When I am one with my skates
I feel I am who He made me to be.
FREE.
If only for an hour.
It is nice to feel total
Freedom.
No demons can catch me.
Lay me in my grave
With skates
So I may hope in heaven
They have rollerblades.

A little problem.

2009-05-17T20:24:00.000-07:00

Attitude.

A lesson I have to remember to learn over and over again.

A good friend and I had many tough conversations about attitude throughout a hard time in my life. I was pretty much really good at throwing pity-parties and exuding negativity and miserableness.

I recently saw a poster that said, "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference".

So true.

My attitude is something that I don't want to control me. I don't want to be defined by a self-pitying attitude. It's not attractive or productive. It covers up the best of who I am and turns me into my worst self.

Often when this type of attitude comes over me, I'll do anything I can to get the most out of it. I'll sit in it, throw it around in the air, spread it around to others, and make sure I don't have a good day.

Then there are brief moments when someone I love and respect will tell me how it is, in a gentle and honest way, and I'll realize how much I've been dragging myself down. I am reminded that I can CHOOSE to be who I want to be, just as much as the kids I work with can choose, so can I. I don't have to be this way or that way.

I can
Just
Be
Myself.

And that's OK.

No one has signed an order that I must be miserable.

It's easy to think and believe that just because a few hard things happen in your life, you are somehow required to live in misery, always expecting the worst.

That is not who I am. Nor how I want to live.

I want to expect the best out of every day rather than expecting it to be miserable.

I don't want to sit by and wait for miracles to happen in my life, I want to make my life miraculous. And in so many ways, it already is.

I forget sometimes.
I forget the beauty there is in each day.
I forget that I am blessed with people to love.
And people who love me.
I forget that though I don't have the best job in the world,
I am employed.
I forget that every day at Y-Care I see smiles
That I helped create.
I forget that every time I'm a stranger in yet another classroom,
I have the power to make or break a child's day.
I forget that making miracles,
Is only so difficult as a quick phone call
Or short text.

I don't want to sit around and mope.

This is my declaration. My declaration of freedom to be the person I KNOW is inside of me. The eternal soul that rests within these skin and bones. The part of me that has so much to offer but gets covered up by the daily grit and grime.

So I declare.

Freedom.

One Word Sums It All Up.

2009-05-14T19:28:00.000-07:00

Worried.

Worried. Worried.

I feel the future closing in one me as it draws closer and closer.

I hear all these stories....so and so didn't get a teaching job until school started....

They always come out with more jobs in June........

Keep looking, you'll find something........

I know others are trying to encourage me, yet it still is frustrating. I've sent out application after application after application. I feel like a little kid waiting for someone to pick me for their team and yet I'm still sitting on the sidelines. I'm the one who is not good enough, whose credentials aren't up to snuff.

I want to move on and grow up and work. In ONE place. with ONE group of kids. I am starting to get frazzled with every new group of kids that I have and every new group of teachers I meet. I'm honestly worn out of this whole subbing thing.

Where was I when the rules changed? I have everything I need to teach. Yet I still don't feel like it's enough. My fellow Y-Care staff tell me I'm going to be a good teacher, but no one else sees this and I'm beginning to wonder if I should have gone into some other sort of profession.

My favorite part of my day is going to Y-Care. I KNOW those kids and they know me. We have fun together and if one of them is having a problem, they come to me. If they're moody, I bother them until they can't resist joining in a game of UNO. I know how to keep kids engaged and interested. I know how to teach them. I know these things. I want to see a group of kids all through the school year. Watch them learn, grow, and become continually confident in their academic abilities.

To have the tools and the knowledge and yet still feel limited is just tough. This is what I have chosen to do with my life. Teaching is my passion. Perhaps I will find it. A job will come to me and it will all work out.

Yet, when times toughen up, I am always the pessimist. Dire predictions fill my head until I'm sure the world is going to end and it will be all my fault. I never give up on those around me, but even as an adult, sometimes I have to fight the temptation to give up on myself.

This is one of those times.

Wordless with words. And still without

2009-05-09T21:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I don't have any words
But still want to write.
It's not writer's block
Instead it's a simple case of
Feeling that the words I would normally type
Cannot hold the depth of what I'm feeling.
Yet some part of me wants shout out
My feelings in no safe or productive way.
Today it's OK to have no words.
Tomorrow perhaps will be
Tears instead of speech
As i again grieve.
It's as simple as missing
And as complex as losing.
No words.
Some days are hard for me.
Mother's day is one of them.
Perhaps this is why
Friday was full of
Emotional distress
And weary anticipation of the weekend.

Finally, Something decent to

2009-05-02T21:12:00.000-07:00

Write in!

Now, I have to confess, I am a journaler. And, trust me, it benefits me and everyone around me. It keeps me emotionally stable when I can write out my emotions and say WHATEVER I want and know it doesn't affect anyone. It helps me work through my feelings before spurting them all over the next person who walks in.

A good journal is one thing I need to remember to actually spend decent money on. I had this journal that I took to NC with me and it was OK but not awesome. just average. So. I ended up not really using it.

I've recently come to some personal conclusions concerning my faith after wrestling with quite a few questions and in reaching a point where I know I need grace, I find myself back to where I started. And back to where I started is with a good journal. One where I can pour out my soul and heart to a compassionate God. And I'm excited. I'm excited for this sweet new journal and I'm excited that my heart is again stirring with peace instead of unending skepticism and questions. I think it just came to the point of admitting that no matter the amount or scope of my questions, at the end of the day, I need to know I'm not shoving through this life and these challenges alone.

So, if I perhaps neglect this here blog for a while, it is because I am getting reacquainted with an old friend. A lovely journal.

The Search

2009-05-01T07:00:00.001-07:00

The search has been on for quite some time now. I have labeled myself "substitute teacher". That's right. I'm the kinda teacher you used to play tricks on in elementary school when your regular teacher wasn't there.

Sometimes I'm really nice to the kids just to see if it works. However, usually I have to show my mean side so they don't think I won't put my foot down.

Anyways.
I have been applying to many different districts around the area hoping that someone will give me a chance. Sometimes it's really frustrating and I get exasperated.

I know I can do it.

My fiance has also been job searching, otherwise he's stuck with a internship that would only pay half what his starting salary would usually be. So far he's had one interview and will be interviewing with someone else.

In my department my interviews total to...da da da....One screening interview!

Until today.

Today I have an interview in my hometown for my dream job. A Spanish Teaching Elementary job. At my former elementary school. Could it get anymore ironic? Yes. The principal was my fourth grade teacher.

I say dream job because Spanish has been something that I enjoy, that I hope to use, and hope to teach. With my degree I can teach Spanish in grades K-8. At this school I'd be like the music teacher in that I'd go around and teach a half-hour Spanish lesson and then move onto the next group.

Can you picture little kids running in place while I say, "correr"? Or saying "hola"

Ha. I can.

Hopefully my former fourth grade teacher can too!

Love & Sorrow

2009-04-27T17:48:00.000-07:00

It's in a mutual look
Arms around me
A brush of a kiss on my cheek
On my lips.
It's when
I'd rather eat in my car
With him
Than be comfy at home
On the couch.
It's when.
I am content
To be together.
After a whole weekend
Of togetherness.
Sometimes I wonder.
If I'm still actually really in love.
Or not.
But then there are moments
When without a doubt
I am in love.
And I wouldn't trade the world.
We're in this together.
I hope we change some corner of the world
Together.

In other news:

Mother's day is coming. And so what of it?
You know I would buy her
Flowers and chocolate.
Her favorite kind.
But her time ran out.
And I feel like one of those grains of sand
Left on the bottom.
Covered by a life that has ran out.
If only.
So many if onlys.
As though I could have done something
Anything
To slow it down.
Yet I only have the faintest memories
And even those have begun to fade.
You move through my dreams and memories
I strain to hear your voice in my ear
A mother's whispering
And unconditional love.
Would you say
You are proud of me?
Would you give
Me a hug?
Would you write me a postcard
From heaven?
Yet I know.
questions that will remain questions
And the storm rising inside of me
Will remain my entire life.
No one has ever measured up
To the role you played in
My life.
Sometimes I still look for you
In glimpses of other
Women.
But you are unfindable.
I must again
Grieve.
Lost.
Gone.
My tears have yet to run dry.

The Lovely Book

2009-04-23T17:22:00.000-07:00

I often wait to write until I am inspired or moved. Sometimes I feel inspired but it's just not something I want the whole world to know about, but today, I am inspired.

My new favorite author is Stephanie Kallos. I read her second book, Sing them Home, first. This book was also great. Her stories center on family. On how families drift and flow, how they come apart and back together and sometimes how losing something can also heal something.

Yet her first book I loved even more, especially the characters. They had a depth and came to life in such a way that I miss them already. The book is called "Broken for You"

A quote:

"The broken are not always gathered together, of course, and not all mysteries of the flesh are solved. We speak of "senseless tragedies," but really: Is there any other kind? Mothers and wives disappear without a trace. Children are killed. Madmen ravage the world, leaving wounds immeasurably deep, and endlessly mourned. Loved ones whose presence once filled us move into the distance; our eyes follow them as long as possible as they recede from view. Maybe we chase them - clumsily, across railroad tracks and trafficked streets; over roads new-printed with their footsteps, the dust still whirling in the wake of them; through impossibly big cities peopled with strangers whose faces and bodies carry fragments of their faces and bodies, whose laughter, steadiness, pluck, stubbornness remind us of the beloved we seek. Maybe we stay put, left behind, and look for them in our dreams. But we never stop looking, not even after those we love become part of the unreachable horizon. We can never stop carrying the heavy weight of love on this pilgriamage; we can only transfigure what we carry. We can only shatter it and send it whirling into the world so that it can take shape in some new way." (351)

And finally,

"Look then at the faces and bodies of people you love. The expicit beauty that comes not from the smoothness of skin or neutrality of expression, but from the web of experience that has left its mark. Each face, each body is its own living fossilized record. A record of cats. combatants, difficult births; of accidents, cruelties, blessings. Reminders of folly, greed, indiscretion, impatience. A moment of time, of memory, preserved, internalized, and enshrined within and upon the body. You need not be told that these records are what render your beloved beautiful. If God exists, He is there, in the small, cast-off peices, rough and random and no two alike." (367)

I would recommend this book highly.

It contains a women suffering a brain tumor, an old house, a strange boarder or two, and a collision of lives. It's a collage of suffering and hope. It is real, raw, and yet lovely. I could only hope to write like this, I could only wish to write in such a way. The words crashing like waves. Waves that are neither this nor that, but everything at once. Words that not only tell fictional stories, but seem to tell my own.

I will fall for you over again

2009-04-18T21:25:00.000-07:00

After a long week apart, sometimes it's hard to adjust back into each other's spheres. The weekends are sometimes hard on my fiance and I.

He's exhausted and I just want to see him. Yet so often the little things become big things and suddenly we're both moody about something completely irrelevant. It's usually because I've missed him all week and he's missed me all week and things that would have been talked about are pushed off for lack of quality time. Yet, I feel our maturity growing as we get moody, calm down, and then have fun an hour later doing something random. In this aspect I feel success. Because we have learned to get past moody phases. Moody phases and simply shutting down when moodiness occurs is one thing that gets us nowhere.

Yet. The weekends also are a time of renewal. And this weekend we just got to rest and relax today. Just spend the day in closeness to one another. I cannot wait. I cannot wait to have a home and a life with him. And fall more in love each day. Over again.

Jumping Cats

2009-04-16T21:21:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I find in my most weary of days there is something to bring me a smile.

For example.

Picture 2 cats walking into your room and looking supiciously at a computer cord, the same computer cord that has been present for many months, as though it is a wild snake or other dangerous thing.

They sneak up on it and sniff cautiously and somehow don't notice that when the "snake" moves the human foot is moving it. Because of this lack of brain power, as they sniff at the cord the slightest jerk of the cord will send them jumping a kind of straight up and back jump. Ha.

Not only do they jump once, but after calming down they come back to sniff the cord and again leap back with an exetreme amount of worry. I have to admit pretty entertaining.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGSvlk6u1-I

Just Check out this video. No way you can resist laughing!

Hope and a Quick note on Relationships

2009-04-12T20:22:00.001-07:00

A message of Hope.
Why do people run from it?
Do we really think,
Is it possible
That it's so hard to believe
Perhaps I am too much of a believer in grace
Yet I put my hope
In a rolled away stone
In the belief that my death,
Those who die of cancer, car accidents, heart attacks, old age, and others
Are dancing on streets that are golden.
Why is it too good to be true?
I admit that I've had my doubts and my struggles.
There have been times when I've wanted to run
From faith, from belief.
Yet still,
I tear up when people talk about heaven
No more death or tears.
It's enough for me to make me hold to the cross.
You see
It's not about religion, or exclusion, about being right about gay rights, or about abortion.
It's about a simple man
On a cross.
It's about an empty grave.
I'm not expecting everyone to believe what I believe
I'm only hoping that instead of seeing me as
A right-wing activist Christian,
To be considered
As a simple woman
Who makes mistakes
And admits she needs something to save herself from herself.
I choose for that to be Christ.
If you don't want Christians to judge you,
Hold back from judging them.
We are not so different.
Simple.
Not impossible.
Perhaps hope is something we all need.
Perhaps hope is something found in many different places.

Other notes:

One of the beautiful things about relationships is humility. It is being able to be upset and grouchy and tired at each other during the day and then to talk later, cut through all the crap, and say, "I love you. I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm not very good at this." Sometimes. Love, I think, is 80 percent humility. Because in loving someone it is pretty much a requirement that we be weak, vulnerable, that we let our defenses down, that we let someone tell us like it is, that we face up to telling them like it is with the risk of provoking anger or frustration. I'm learning how to do this with wisdom and grace. It's always easy to say something hard in a mean way, but it's difficult to find a way to think through the words that would invite intimacy as opposed to scarcasm or some other harsh response. I am thankful for the fruitfulness of humility in my relationship.

Play Time

2009-04-09T18:29:00.000-07:00

Afternoons I get to fall into a place
It's a place where I can run and play
And remind myself that I'm not quite
Too old to play like a child.
I hang out with second graders
And together we make jokes about
Pirates "AARRRGHHH"
Her face gets all scrunched up as she copies me and says,
"AARRRGGGHH"
Another boy asks me to count the number of times he does push-ups.
And I twirl a jump rope as child after child jumps through
Singing silly songs.
The youngest one yells,
"Watch me"
And I enjoyably watch her do amazing stunts
At least amazing for a young one.
Today we made a human knot and untied ourselves
Yesterday we played silent ball
And since my arrival this week
We've been lining up and marching outside like soldiers
"hut two three four".
I don't have to get out my teacher voice all the time
Nor do I have to yell.
It's just hanging out for two hours with kids being
Kids.
And sometimes after a long day of having to yell at kids
It's nice just to play and watch them
Play.

Flash that guitar Back to the Past!

2009-04-04T20:30:00.000-07:00

I watched a movie tonight which involved drumming and two unlikely characters coming together, one to learn music and one to teach it.

In some ways, I was reminded of many many lessons within a similar story. Two people, somewhat unlikely people, coming together. One to learn music and another to teach it.

My guitar lessons took place in days of grief and misery. Moping and sitting and staring were day to day activities, though I rarely told anyone about what I did in my spare time. Sometimes staring felt good because it meant I didn't have to think, I could just....be. And moping,

Well, I'm really good at self-pity sometimes. Especially when I feel like nothing is in my control.

Back to guitar. I remember desiring so very much to play. I loved how the acoustic sounded. So smooth and sharp at the same time. So many different sounds all at once. I had the lovely priviledge of knowing someone who wrote and played their own music on guitar. Her songs and passion inspired me and somehow we worked out that she would teach me guitar.

Some days were terrible. The lessons were painful for both of us. It's hard to enjoy music when you are wallowing and determined to be miserable. Yet she never gave up on me and I stubbornly refused to give up on myself.

You see, behind all the moping and self-pity, I was just a simple girl in love with guitar. It wouldn't matter if I wasn't awesome at it, nor did I really want to put in the time to perform with it, I just wanted to PLAY.

In some ways, my guitar skills feel like a miracle. Both my teacher and I had to go through the awkward road of figuring out my rhythm stunk because I was a leftie attempting to play righty.

I still remember the day she fixed up my guitar so I could play leftie. I was exetremely depressed. I had to relearn EVERYTHING. Terrible.

It's like learning to walk a certain way and then someone having to break your legs so you can walk the correct way. Painful.

To look back on those days is very strange sometimes. Though I still like to mope occasionally, I have found that there is usually some speck of joy to be found in living life. And I have learned that the longer one wallows the more one misses.

This is more of a reflection on my past. I think amongst all of it is a thankfulness to my past self for persevering and a thankfulness to my guitar teacher for taking so much time to teach me guitar and so many other things about life.

Two unlikely characters. Two guitars. And two different stories. Yet the beauty is in knowing that we didn't waste any of the time we had together. It is all very rich. Neither of us knew much about how to help each other. But I hope and believe it made life a little bit easier on both of us knowing that we had our guitars and our lessons and our passion.

Chords

2009-03-31T20:58:00.000-07:00

I just talked to one of the loveliest people in my life.

A dear friend since my freshmen year of college when we did crazy funny things together.

A woman who has faced a lot in life and in past relationships and very recently has been blessed with a man that matches her perfectly!

I can't get over it! And I can't get over my excitement for her. She's persevered through a lot and this blessing is spilling over.

It's always sweet to see close friends experiencing joy and happiness. Something good. It is possible that those moments of joy and perfection still exist. I love knowing their joy, anyone, whether it's following a lifelong dream or falling in love or making peace with something in their past. Tiny glimpses of hope which remind me to not let the darkness and dullness of day to day life ever erase my passion and joy.

Most of all, I love talking to my friends, the ones I've known for two or more years on the phone and laughing and talking together. I have always been odd about the friends I stay in touch with. They tend to be not drama-ish and real and honest. They tend to see me for what I am and love me in ways I couldn't ask or expect. It just works. They know my past and some of my struggles, but it doesn't get in the way of how they view me. Those friends I stay in contact with just get me.

And yet at the same time, each of them are so different than the other! No two of my good friends are anything at all alike and the variations and colors that their personalities offer bring me such interesting perspectives and joy. It's like, having children and loving each one because they all have something different and unique to offer. Except having way good friends.

In any case. It's refreshing to talk to old friends and I appreciate their effort to remain in contact with me especially when they're busy or tired or sad or don't like talking on the phone. Their voices remind me of winds of love. Love that washes across miles and phones and days and years. Love that strikes a deep chord of familiarity and a sort of being in tune with other people that helps you remember you aren't quite alone. That in itself is nothing short of amazing.

Reunited

2009-03-22T06:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a joyous day of being reunited with a pair of workable roller blades!

we took my worn out blades to a sports store and I got a new pack of wheels which the guys there put on the blades for me.

of course, they broke off one of the bearings in the wheel, they put all the wheels on one of the blades and then asked me if the wheels were too loose (they were missing the spacers, causing the wheels to move back and forth in ways which could have been dangerous. What would have taken about 20 minutes took an hour.

Included in this is the fact that my man decided he should buy some sweet blades so he could come skating with me (note: he hasn't skated in any form for a very long time, I've been skating in blade form for a very long time).

We got home and I was itching to try out these new wheels and he wanted to see what it was like to skate. I got on and zoomed around, he got on and well, did his best to zoom around. All in all, it was an interesting experience. It's always strange when you can do something really well and then someone else feels disappointed because they can't do it as well. Even though you've worked at that particular thing for a very long amount of time. That's what I tried to make sure he knew, I didn't pick up blading in a day, i am as good as I am because I've done it for years.

I always feel free when I skate. There's no limits and no one to tell me how to do it.
It's like eating green eggs and ham, I would skate with anyone or alone, anywhere or at home.
Where I live the flat land is at least good for something,
I missed the many trails and sidewalks when I was in NC
People there just didn't seem to bike or go trail walking as much.
To bike on the road seemed dangerous to me as the speed limits were 45 miles an hour near my neighborhood. I didn't feel comfortable having cars go around me at those speeds.
All this to say,

Welcome back closet rollerblader. Freedom to live is here.

In search of the Other Side: Green

2009-03-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about the grass greener on the other side idea.

I suppose it's quite easy to be tempted to think that a this instead of that would somehow make all the difference to your level of happiness.

I sometimes find myself guilty of this in my relationship. Not because I don't like this, but sometimes me taking this for granted tempts me to consider what that must be like.

For example,

We were driving back to my place from having run some errands and he had to work so I was thinking he'd prob. just want to go to my place and chill/relax. This thought bummed me out b/c it was a beautiful day. I mean lovely. It's funny, b/c in this state all the hibernating people suddenly turn out in droves on the sidewalks, on their bikes, and in their lawns once a semi-warm day hits. It's great. It was one of those days. And it kinda bummed me out to go back so I mentioned taking a walk. He mentioned he'd be walking around all night at work. But that he wouldn't mind sitting outside somewhere. Discouraged, I dropped the issue thinking we'd head back. In my grass greener mind I thought, man, wouldn't it be nice if I had a guy who would just pull over as soon as I mentioned the idea.

Well. I have officially decided I'm on the green grass b/c that's exactly what he did. We took an unexpected turn and I said, where we goin? and he said, I thought you wanted to go to a park? I said, I thought you didn't want to walk around. He said, I don't but we could walk to a bench and sit down and chat. Wow. Talk about me getting my eyes of that other side (which I suspect really has brown grass). And back onto my own sweet man.

Never mind that the bench he was thinking of was much further down the trail than suspected. And that most of the trail we walked was still covered in snow/slush.

It's in those little tiny things. Perhaps people would have less affairs or less relational problems if instead of turning a blind ear to each other, we listened to each other, and not only listened but acted swiftly on their words. Instead of giving and taking, what if we focused on the giving and left ourselves to feel surprised in the receiving?

I never expected or really asked for anyone to love me. And even when my eyes wander over to that other grass, it usually only takes a moment for me to realize I'm already on it.

In other words: I really like this side of things.

Weary

2009-03-03T16:40:00.000-08:00

Sigh.

Sometimes this job wears me down.

Some days I'm on top of my game and the kids and I have a really great day.

But there's other days when the weariness of what I'm doing causes to wake up with much hesitation. New classroom. New group of kids. Who knows what they will be like or what stuff they will try and pull with me.

I've had many classes that I've really enjoyed.

And also met many very responsible and respectful students. The unfortunate side of that coin is every teacher tends to remember the problem kids more than the good ones.

Perhaps today I am just worn out.

Anger Dream

2009-02-26T04:56:00.000-08:00

I had a really vivid dream last night:

I dreamed I was a student in this class and we were working on maps or something. I went to the bathroom to take a break and came back to find my class had moved. I went looking for my class and found them. I eyed my teacher out of the corner of my eye to see if he'd noticed how long I'd truly been gone. He was oblivious. I sat down in a chair at this table the rest of my class was at. I remember that we were supposed to draw arrows by California, one pointing North and the other South. I had a lot of trouble with these arrows.

I made some comment about something to which my brother replied, Jill you are so dumb.

At this I became extremely upset. I told him I didn't like that he would make fun of me in front of my friends, I was yelling at him at this point. And that it was one thing to make fun of me when no one else was around, but it's another thing to make fun of me in front of all these people and that I didn't appreciate it. I started sobbing. Right at this moment I dreamed my dad was looking into the room and walking toward my brother. I went to the bathroom to cry and calm down. And then I woke up. Still feeling a torment of emotions.

I've been thinking a lot about anger lately. Some of the kids at school only know how to deal with hurt and other problems by flashing immediately to anger. It's hard to believe, they are good kids, when all you see in them is flashing anger.

Perhaps this was me testing out what it would be like to express myself in a similar fashion those kids do, which I sometimes see as very childish. Also, perhaps I should feel that God should intervene and chastise those of His children who abuse the abilities and powers they have through putting others down. Just like when my dad came in the picture, even though most of me knew my dad wasn't going to fix it. Students often think that I as the teacher will fix their conflicts but when I am unable to do so, will turn their anger toward me. Or as I was thinking of a fellow sub who had experienced a great deal of anger from a class. It's interesting.

I talked to a friend yesterday about how anger can turn someone you treasure and love into a scary person. Perhaps I had this dream to better understand why someone I loved could get so angry.

All in all. I just hope this dream doesn't visit me again.

RoAd TrIp

2009-02-20T10:35:00.000-08:00

Friday!!!!

Woot!

I am loving on the Friday action!

I am especially excited for this Friday because my SO and I are taking a bit of a road trip down to Kansas City! Awesome!

We're going to hang out with his sister and brother-in-law, and their small child.

road trips= good quality time.

He hasn't had free time since Sunday. Finally finally we'll get some good time together.

All in all, it should be a good time. Just to be somewhere else and spend time with different people. I mean, cabin fever does tend to set in, job or no job.

Happy Weekend.

Love

2009-02-15T16:52:00.000-08:00

Are not we in constant change?
Indeed.
I find me changing
And you changing
And US changing.
I remember days would I would have been content to just...
Look at you.
Or hold your hand.
Now the moments of pure love
And beauty
Are fleeting.
As day to day
Hits each of us
Between the eyes.
Ours isn't the only baggage we have to deal with.
Of what love can I speak of that is
Free of burdens.
None.
I laugh with you.
We are in a game.
The love-game.
Some days I am drunk with it.
Other days it is a weary wheel
Spinning and spinning.
For I carry your burdens
Along with my own.
True.
Yet the joy
Is real.
Together we take life
And together we pull
our burdens.
I memorize your face again,
Every time
Just in case.
Just in case.
With its loving look.
Because we play the
Love-game.
Our laughter echoes to the heavens and we share.
Our ka-tet
Our secret club.
With those who would look fully and see.
May they rejoice.
To see hope
Is to live.

Dear Weekend.

2009-02-14T06:17:00.001-08:00

Hello Weekend,

I've been waiting patiently for you. The days when I wouldn't have to leave my phone on vibrate just in case some school calls me at 6:15 in the morning.

There's something about you, weekend, that relaxes my heart and soul.

I feel I've been rushing, rushing, rushing. Rushing to build up, rushing to tear down, rushing to mend, and rushing to make whole. Perhaps, weekend, you will give me some moments to slow down. Some moments to consider my burdens and lay them down.

Oh weekend, I've been so weary and my emotions a roller coaster. I am containing the high hopes that you will provide a hiding place for me where I can lay and rest my weary head.

I know that our brief relationship will end and Monday at midnight I'll have to kiss you goodbye. But for now, weekend, I shall relax in you for this brief time.

Driving in the Morning

2009-02-04T17:12:00.000-08:00

I love driving in the mornings.

this morning I drove to Wav. to experience some junior high science.

I had a great day today.

as I was driving this morning the sun was mostly up but still had a bit to go......

The kids were mostly good

and as I drove I took in the snow covered rolling hills....

They have a test tomorrow over mitosis.

the stark cold beauty captivated me

I wish I could grade their papers.

i found myself thinking....

Maybe this IS where I want to BE.

maybe this is where I want to be.

May you find yourself passionate about life no matter what your location or occupation. May the people around you, the old friends, and the new ones bring you enough laughter to spread over the miles. May you find yourself thinking that this IS where you want to be. And may you rejoice in the simple beauties of the day.

Squeeze

2009-02-02T19:34:00.000-08:00

Paul and I are learning to squeeze in time together around our schedules.

It's very interesting how easy it is to say we are busy when in reality,

We tend to have thousands of free moments dedicated to doing nothing that we just really never knew about.

My first fears about not being able to spend time with him have been waylaid by seeing how much a difference stopping by his work briefly can make in keeping us connected and updated. Or even how much talk and time can be magnified when used wisely together. Even him calling while he's at work every night makes a difference.

In other news: Today I taught high school Spanish. I must admit that I did enjoy certain parts of it. However, I'm growing weary of feeling like the stranger in the classroom. I keep reminding myself that the actual teaching thing is not anything like substitute teaching. Subbing is interesting. And I'm learning a lot. Yet chillin with different kids and a certain level of unpredictability to each day tends to become wearying. Yet push on I shall.

Letting Go of Monkeys.

2009-02-01T13:35:00.000-08:00

It's funny how another's words can inspire emotions in my own soul.
I never used to read things and cry.
This softness of my heart I believe started when I began to accept,
That God gives me grace.
It's so easy to be so hard on ourselves.
To go back and rethink and let our past haunt us.
It's strange and yet somewhat understandable how things
Cycle.
The one year anniversary of my mom's death,
I had to go through a whole battle of
Accepting that things weren't my fault.
That nothing I did or didn't do could have changed the
Outcome.
My refusal to deal with that shade of guilt and that sense of responsibility
Led to blame and bitterness.
When we feel guilty
I think the first thing we do is find someone else to blame.
In many moments and many whispers,
I had to hear "it's not your fault"
Some days I feel so burdened with
My family's loss and pain.
I'm sure others have felt the same for their families.
I didn't know that was the monkey on my back at that time
Yet, the monkey comes back to visit
Again the guilt shades my view
And I feel responsible for all their pain.
People always used to tell me
That the death of my mother,
Would always affect me.
Freedom that was once had,
Can be sought again.
Yet sometimes I still am afraid
of
Letting Go.

The 3rd, 5th, 7th, and 8th Grade Week song

2009-01-28T21:18:00.000-08:00

On the first day of school
My week gave to me,
Mitosis in the 7th grade.
The chromosomes were splitting,
The students were sort of working.
And one student said "how old are you?"
On the second day of school
My week gave to me,
Third grade.
Students were small
Their concerns were large,
And all the students said "that's not how we do it."
On that same day of school,
My week gave to me,
Fifth grade.
Independent clauses
The students all said, "you are mean!"
On the third day of school
My week gave to me,
Geography and history.
The students were large.
Some worked hard.
One said to me, "can I listen to this song by Pink"
I said no
With a partridge in a pear tree!

In case of cabin fever: do hip-hop

2009-01-24T14:30:00.000-08:00

I have discovered the best relief to cabin fever in the winter.

I have a problem. My problem is that I love to bike, roller blade, play frisbee, and just plain be outside and be active. I love doing things outside.

The problem comes when it's winter. It's minus two degrees outside and if I tried to throw a frisbee my fingers would freeze.

Yet! Have NO fear!

What, you may ask, is my salvation?

Hip-hop Dance Videos! Work-out hip-hop dance videos to be specific.

The moves include all the challenges of skating. I can jump, spin in circles, and do moves like putting my left foot over my right and then throwing my arms around! Pretty active!

My current roomie introduced me to dance and I think that I like it. Dance also includes working with a beat and with a rythm which I love but am not always skilled at (just ask my guitar teacher about the rythm thing). I love finding the beat and going along with it in my moves.

In case of cabin fever: Do hip-hop

The Seventh Grade English

2009-01-23T07:25:00.000-08:00

The beauty of being able to sub in America today is that you are allowed to sub K-12. Sweet.

Yesterday I worked in a junior high teaching an English lesson to mostly 7th grade students.

Loved it! I think junior high teachers have it easy. They can plan one lesson for like three classes for ONE day!

Elementary teachers have to plan five or six lesson plans per day per week.

Perhaps I shall in the future make is so that I am certified to teach k-12. Then if I get tired of the little kids I can just move on up to the high school. Yup. Life is good!

In other thoughts:

It's funny how many people want to help with wedding plans. It's a bit overwhelming too.

I'm thinking of it like a puzzle. Some people want me to put the middle pieces together first and some people want me to put the edge pieces together first. I'm still working on looking at the big picture and getting the pieces out of the box. What do I have to work with? Who is willing to help? What do I want the big picture to look like?

I'm approaching it with some nervousness as a wedding is much more public than a puzzle and sometimes the best puzzles take the longest to put together. But with determination and persistence, the pieces come together and before you know it, it's finished.

Substitute

2009-01-20T11:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I hung out with 18 four and five year olds. Talk about little people!

They needed so much help.

The first thing I was supposed to talk about with the kids was the calendar which was still a week off since the small children hadn't been in school. I started out by saying who I was. Then I asked them what day it was.

A small child raised their hand and I picked them and they said, "Sunday!" I said, "no". What day comes after Sunday?

"Sunday!" Sigh. OK Today is Monday if today is Monday what day will tomorrow be?

"Sunday" Sing. Uhm. Nope, it starts with a T

"Thursday!". Ha. No it's Tuesday.

They were cute for about the first 2 hours, Then when the associate and I were gearing up all 18 small children for recess and none of them could zip their coats and seemed to think they had all the time in the world to change into snow pants, coats, hats, boots, and gloves, I decided they weren't really that cute. Ha.

Maybe if there had been less then 18 small children.

Yet it was great.

Great to be in a classroom and getting PAID! Wow! I think the knowledge that I am working gives me a much better attitude than I even had last semester. Of course I will work hard in the classroom each day. Especially if I know I am working for money, to support myself and to support my lifestyle. It's nice to feel that I've earned this. I've earned the right to work in the classroom. I have a piece of paper that represents that right. Seems silly that all they give me after four and a half years is a piece of paper! Yet to the school system, it's exactly what I needed.

Seems Ironic.

As the characters in Stephen King's novel would say, "sounds Hawaiian doesn't it?"

Weight

2009-01-17T23:05:00.000-08:00

My thoughts are many this night.

I wish the world could be easier on all our souls.
That instead of hurting each other,
We would simply sacrifice.
Sacrifice our fears and hurts, our tears and wounds
Lay them down.
Instead of swinging them around
Letting them hit whoever happens to be in our way.
I wish I had more answers.
I wish that blame wasn't such an easy thing to throw
In other people's face.
There's a phrase I learned in North Carolina,
It is what it is.
I admire this. It is a phrase of acceptance.
That this is life. And it will be no different.
Yet let ME do the best I can.
No matter what the "it" in that phrase is.
Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.
Never have justified sin or wrong actions.
It's funny how sometimes we think the excuses do.
I wish I had the answers.
I remember being in that place where my burdens
Swung around and gave someone else a black eye.
I remember being stuck. Thinking I'd never be free.
But there was a way out.
Why do you persecute me were the exact words I heard.
And I love you
Came very next.

Whispers

2009-01-15T10:25:00.000-08:00

The freezing cold temps provide yet another day of closed schools. Another day without even a chance for work.

It's hard playing this waiting game. Waking up in the morning, hoping for a call, only to find no school yet again. I'm eager to get started. These delays make me feel that perhaps I'll never work and just be a bum, although that isn't really true. It's how I feel though.

Other thoughts for the day: I have found in myself many varying thoughts on relationships lately, mine in particular. I think I am realizing how sometimes, especially after being at long distances from each other, it's hard for me to accept love and the fact that someone else wants to be there for me. Some days I get this thought that I am out for myself, I must fight for myself and let none be too close. Paul has been holding doors for me and paying for us to go eat places and doing things like that. It's weird how I have to remind myself that it's OK to let him do those things. That he is showing love.

There's this stubborn streak in me that I feel to the core. It's the streak that says "I don't need anybody". Yet my heart is louder and says, trust this. Trust this love.

It's a whisper. A whisper I choose to trust.

The attraction of Sacrificial Love

2009-01-14T08:12:00.000-08:00

Last night we went to the movie Seven Pounds with Will Smith.

It was not at all the movie I expected it to be, I mean, I cried at the end, how often does that happen with Will Smith?

The main message of the movie is sacrificial love. It's about one man's sacrifices to let others live a richer, fuller life.

It's interesting how we are either really moved by this sort of love or we are disgusted by it.

I think at times we are moved because we realize that to some extent all love is sacrificial, and that we all need someone to sacrifice SOMETHING for us. Just think about mothers.

Yet at times, when we feel that spurt of independence and wanting to be all individual, we are disgusted that anyone would sacrifice so much for others. We would say, live your own life and forget about the rest.

I recently talked with a friend about balance. Extremes tend to get people in trouble. Even in my relationship I am thinking, how much do I do for Paul? Because saying no or disagreeing does not signify more or less love. Yet at the same time sacrifice DOES seem to signify love. BUT if you lay down everything and always do what they want - that other person will not respect you= balance. It's all about the balance.

In other news: I hope to start getting some calls for subbing.

Family plus Thoughts

2009-01-11T21:03:00.000-08:00

Today I got together with some of the Olson family.

It was quite fun. The kids that I remember running around with when I was younger were almost all there. Yet at the same time, I noticed both in how the adults treated me and in my own attitude that I have been accepted as more or less an adult.

Growing up and becoming part of the "real world" is all something we must do. It is all something they have all been through and it's nice to find myself be taken seriously. Whoa. I'm really going to do it.

Today I finalized my resume and printed off copies onto nice paper. This makes me feel really official. I also inserted my teaching certification into the professional padfolio I bought to be organized at interviews. I have completed about two and a half applications and will turn at least two of these applications in tomorrow.

It seems like I needed last week to let the whirlwind calm a bit before jumping into applying.

It's exciting. New Chapters, new doors, and what seems like a whole new life. Yes please!

UPDATE

2009-01-08T06:16:00.000-08:00

Whew.

I have finally landed!

After much moving about, a vacation with my family, and limited internet access, here I am.

I do not have too much to say except it's been crazy and I'm ready to be in one place for a bit.

One exciting bit of news is that I received my teaching license in the mail! Woo! I am official! It's very hard to believe because after going through four years my degree and my occupation has always seemed like a distant dream. Now I am filling out sub applications and getting my resume together and it's really awesome to be able to put my license information on those applications. Dear working world, I have entered!

I shall keep all informed.

Last + Reflections

2008-12-19T14:35:00.000-08:00

Today is my last full day here in NC.

Although I know i am leaving a place that has blessed me in ways I never suspected, I also feel much peace about going home.

I know I go back a different person. This does not scare me. It makes me proud. I feel a little bit more grown-up and ready to tackle a bigger piece of life. I want to go back to the church where I came from and see if I still fit there.

It's funny how many things can change in four years. I was reminiscing with a friend I met in college about how we've known each other through some tough times. I am glad I have someone like that in my life because when we talk about different topics there is a mutual understanding of where that other person has been. They will always be there for me. In the same way, I know I will always be there for them. Our kids will probably be friends! (ha. well, once can always hope).

Four years ago I was a scared college freshmen who didn't talk to anyone. I always ate alone in the dining center because I wasn't all that outgoing. I had a really fun neighbor who came into my room and asked me for homework advice. We still remain good friends. I also played and marched in the marching band.

The beginning of my sophomore year began in turmoil and tragedy with my mom's death. I lost myself to a world of grief and tried very hard to keep busy with all my classes. I didn't want to think about anything. I also began learning guitar that year and had the very painful experience of learning guitar right-handed only to have to switch to playing left-handed. Sigh. I think I cried the night my guitar teacher told me I would have to start over.

My junior year started out OK but got really emotional as I moved into my own apartment quite against my own wishes or desires. It was a very lonely yet beautiful semester. I wrestled with feeling unloved, unwanted, and unbeautiful. In this darkness I also found rescue. I learned to deal with some of the grief that had built up since my mom's death. I couldn't run from it anymore.

My senior year I was very happy. I came back to school after experiencing a truly amazing summer. I was feeling confident and ready for the world. Then that fall Paul came into my life. A blessing that I did not ask for, did not expect, and in some ways was overwhelmed by. It was a sweet beautiful time of learning what it was like to love and be loved in a more intimate way.

Now here I sit. Technically graduated I suppose. I feel just in the last four years I have lived a lifetime.

This semester has only added to the beauty and fullness of my life.

I find my life stream a river mixed with joy and sorrow, with pain and temptation, with love, and with life. I am all these things at once. As I continue to live, I can only hope that life has more in store for me. I look forward to this next stage even as I fear it.

It was Worth It

2008-12-14T12:26:00.000-08:00

I know sometimes I feel like ranting and raving about the church. About how sometimes they get things so wrong.

But in truth, I was reminded today of how much of a blessing it is to have a community of people with which to wrestle through life. As I attended my last church here, I felt so very blessed. These people have made a huge impact on me and I am so grateful for their acceptance of me.

I came here with a lot of questions and a lot of frustrations about the church in general. Here, I found a community focused on reaching out instead of judging. It was and is about love.

I know I have a family here.

Today I realized that these people. The people in my lifegroup, the coffee shop, the Friday night music....they made it all worth it. This semester was hard, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I met and got to know some beautiful souls. They made me laugh, they sometimes came so weary about life, but we were there together. It was beautiful.

Thank you Confluence and the River Church.

You will always be part of who I am and have written unforgettable lessons on my heart.

The church can be an easy thing to run from. This place made it hard to be determined to walk away.

Beginnings

2008-12-13T07:42:00.000-08:00

I was reading through my old text messages today (mostly because my inbox was 80% full) and the ones I found most interesting were the ones between Paul and I when we first started dating.

Ha. I mean, there are ALL levels of cheesiness in those first texts. We didn't have a care in the world. We just thought each other was the best thing ever since sliced bread!

Even since August when I came out here, our relationship has changed. It's not all fluff. It's hard to have fluff and sweetness when you don't see each other very often. I mean, you can't really be cute together when you aren't together.

Yet we have deepened and grown together, BECAUSE it's not all fluff. Paul and I have many many deep conversations on the phone that we would never have had six months ago. With the time that has passed, we have grown. I always tell paul different situations, like, what would you do if I did this or that, how would you react? And he does the same.

I can't really say if I yearn for those times when we just loved each other and didn't have any serious things between us. There are benefits to both.

However, I like that he knows me deeper and that he can see what's all behind the fluff and still love me. And I like that I can do the same for him.

In other news: I am done with my student teaching. Perhaps I will write more about this later but for now that's all I have to say about that.

Pieces

2008-12-08T15:28:00.001-08:00

We are all over the place
Our blood is spilling out
We see who we are
And we want to only walk away.
I've cried a thousand tears
And am destined to cry a thousand more
My heart is cut in two
As you are cut in two.
O God
Must you leave us like this?
In this empty painful place?
I am weary.
My heart grows heavier
With the pain of others.
I weep with the tears of the prophets
Who looked upon their people.
And experienced the sorrow of a thousand hearts.
Who am I that you have even looked my way?
Broken.
It's all broken.
Wholeness is a tale of heaven.
I am
Broken.
Who am I that you have even looked my way?

Our lives are just broken pieces.
And so we take the broom
As our tears wet the floor
We sweep up the pieces
And we stare at our lives in our hands.
The pieces slip through our fingers and into the past.
The cracks in the glass
Cause it to shatter
We are in the corner,
Cut and bleeding.
These are Your children.
Maybe we just weren't meant to be
This way
Broken.
Bleeding.
I cry out with the shouts of a thousand broken hearts.
Our tears run over as the pieces float away.
And again wholeness seems to be a tale of heaven.

Seeker

2008-12-07T16:25:00.000-08:00

She wonders down the road
Knocking on the doors she comes to
She is an endless seeker
Never content with what she finds
Each door brings more
Pain and wrinkles to her eyes
Who will take her in?
The doors she tries
Are either locked,
Or condemned.
She remembers
Once she went down a path
And she was loved.
Yet now she feels there is nowhere to call home
Nowhere safe.
If only she could find that path again.
Maybe she could find her way back
To those who love her.
Instead of seeing criticism and disregard,
She would see love.
She has been called beloved
But that voice gets harder and harder to hear
Those other things she hears about herself,
She may soon begin to believe.
And maybe the voice will be silenced.
Love will be behind one of the many locked doors
She can't get into.
She is running now.
Running past the houses and the doors
The rain begins and her own tears fall.
Soon she is out of breath
She sinks into a heap of sobs.
Love whispers.
It does not pick her up but sinks down with her.
Arms are wrapped around.
She isn't alone.
Love reminds her that though flawed
She is beautiful.
She may be stubborn, hard to live with sometimes,
And messy,
But Love says,
You are beautiful.

Let no one tell you no less. May lovers of all kinds remember to remind each other of their beauty. Despite differences and frustrations.

Thoughts on Professionalism.

2008-12-04T15:17:00.000-08:00

Why is it that when a teen wears all black clothes, black lipstick, mascara, or has many piercings it is sometimes called self-expression and when an adult does the same it might be called "unprofessional"?

Perhaps growing up is so hard because we let our young people slide by with "self-expression". How does this prepare them for a world in which conformity seems to be necessary, especially in the working world?

Of course, there are jobs where you can wear all-black and have a lot of piercings.

I suppose sometimes it seems we have certain expectations of different age-groups. This is acceptable and developmentally we need those expectations, but shouldn't our expectations of teenagers be more closely aligned with those of adults?

I can't wear whatever I want to my job, but I could wear whatever I wanted to my college classes. I could wear almost anything I wanted to wear in high school. Shouldn't we have higher expectations of our young people and people in general? Perhaps if we treated them like the young adults they are, they would act like young adults. They wouldn't feel the need to get everyone's attention by wearing "different clothes" or by being "goth" or anything. Maybe.

I guess sometimes I get frustrated by the gap between young adulthood and adulthood. People have all sorts of expectations for you once you are an "adult" and suddenly how you were or who you were is no longer good enough. Your jeans and t-shirts must be put away and only worn on Saturdays. (PS I'm mostly talking about the professional world). Suddenly I "should" (though I don't) blow-dry my hair every morning to look professional. Sometimes it irks me because no one told me these things in high school. We could be whoever we wanted to be and mostly everyone just called it "self-expression" or "identity". I don't mind looking professional, I just wish sometimes that I didn't feel like I was playing someone else's role in these clothes. I'm just not that kinda girly girl.

Sigh. Just my soapbox for the day.

Love

2008-12-03T16:29:00.001-08:00

I was watching the show called the "Secret Lives of Women" last night. It was very interesting.

It was about a man who was like 40 and was undergoing hormone shots and some major surgeries to change his sex to female. He said that he wanted his outside to match what he felt inside.

Paul and I sometimes joke around about gender and sexuality. I always find it interesting to think about gender, sexuality, and our society.

As I watched, I tried to understand where he soon to be she was coming from and I tried to think about what it would be like to feel like a man on the inside but be a woman on the inside. Would I also feel the need to undergo operations and shots? I don't know. The show was kind of like a mini-documentary about this man's journey. The most engaging parts to me were the reactions of his friends and family as he began the process. Some of them said, "I don't have to understand, but I love Chris and I'm here to support him."

In the final moments of the show, Chris now Christine was returning from overseas and his operations to introduce herself to family and friends as the woman he had become.

I have to admit, I cried. Because as soon as she walked in her mom hugged her and told her how precious she was. And this mom looked like the traditional no funny business type. But when I saw her mother's love overwhelm all other things, I couldn't help but be reminded of the power of love. Here her son had undergone all of these things and changed himself completely, and she welcomed him now her into her arms. I couldn't help but think. See. Love. It's about love. Not about gender or sexuality or who loves who.

Love.

The greatest of these is love.

Will you choose love?

questions

2008-11-30T10:25:00.000-08:00

It's funny how something you look forward to for so long comes and goes before you even remembered to pause and breath.

The longings in my heart speak against what I feel others would want for me and I' m caught in a battle between making sure others are satisfied and making sure I am following my own heart.

I know what I feel. I know what I want.

I have been duly warned.

I suppose there are many questions that come along with commitment. Lately I have been questioning everything but my relationship. This seems backwards or different than what I "should" be doing. By the way - I did see a counselor once and we talked a lot about the words "should" and "want". So often we feel we "should" do certain things, but those things aren't what we "want" to do. Perhaps it is wise to find a balance between the two. The shoulds and the wants.

Most of all, I have spent the last months questioning the church and at the base of that my faith. I questioned God a lot when my mom died. It was very frustrating sometimes. Lung cancer doesn't tend to have an explanation when someone has never smoked or anything.

My mom took the religious route in her life. She was a youth director for a while and had always been active with the church and her faith. I wonder what would have happened if one of her good friends had come out to her. I wonder if she wouldn't have questioned her faith or religion. I wish I could ask her about that. I sat in church today and listened to a sermon about the "word becoming flesh" similar to one of the Bible studies I taught each week at camp. Who is right?

I feel often a God-given peace. I feel a yearning to be "home" and away from the mess of this world. I feel a Presence. Spirit. Yet I haven't journaled or anything. I still pray sometimes. I am not keeping this God updated on my life or constantly interacting with him. I feel this is a wandering time. I think He understands.

In the meantime. I find myself questioning my faith but not my relationship. It's easy to trust someone who is there. Someone who will deal with your shortcomings by looking you in the eye and telling you how it is. Someone who loves you even as they see a full picture of your shortcomings. I don't question that love. Because it speaks to me. I feel it and it surrounds me. This love doesn't fix everything, it doesn't lessen our sinfulness, but it is there. God is supposed to love us with a perfect love. Unmatched by anything. I don't exactly doubt God's love. I doubt the Church's interpretation of this love. I think the church and God get all mixed up. I have interacted with God. I don't believe that it was just my imagination or something I ate. His peace and presence have spoken into my life to help me deal with my mom's death. Yet. He has to be so much more than all those words on the pages of that book. It's like if I tried to write a book about Paul. I could perhaps tell you how he is or what he is like. I can tell you how he makes me feel. Yet you could not "know" Paul until you interacted with him. With his spirit. God is the same.

If you ONLY read all those words but never ask God to BE there, you will only know words and never spirit. If you only go to church and hear what people say about God, and never seek out His spirit outside of that, you only know what they say. (Like you would only know what I said about Paul if you never bothered to meet him.)

I have so many questions.

Inside

2008-11-24T17:45:00.000-08:00

Paul is coming! Paul is coming!

I am really excited to see him.

It is a really great blessing to be able to see him. Being able to go home and see him was a really great blessing, but it made talking on the phone all that much harder. Instead of just hearing him laugh, I got to see him laugh. And I was reminded of all the reasons why I love him.

Paul was telling me about this documentary he watched during a film discussion (I LOVE watching strange movies and talking about them! I like thinking about things I normally wouldn't come into contact with). Anyways, in this documentary there was a couple who had been married a really long time when the woman up and died.

Her family went through all the journals she had kept during her married life only to discover she had had an affair! Bad news for all journalers! One downfall of being introverted and containing thoughts and feelings to paper is that sometimes things between two people aren't always expressed and dealt with. It's good for us introverts to have extroverts around us. AKA people who won't let those thoughts and feelings stay on the paper but who will ask and prod us about them. Don't worry extroverted people, we like when others press into our souls hard enough to care about our inner thoughts. Yet, if we retreat, don't feel you are entitled to our souls. Let us show you who we are. And never assume.

Because some of us are rockstar rollerbladers and have hidden talents that may quite surprise you. We show only as much of us as we feel comfortable with. And sometimes we only show as much of ourselves as we think you can handle.

I am glad that I feel Paul can handle seeing a lot of who I am. I often remain unhidden with him.

Anyways, case in point, I don't want to be the person who journals her life away only to have her family and closest friends discover she was living a life they knew nothing about. I am glad for those who also press in to be sure I remain unhidden. (AKA Paul and a few other close friends).

Sorrow

2008-11-16T11:37:00.000-08:00

The puddles of rainwater
Flow into the river
The water is made up of salt and sorrow
The river is a steady current.
Our tears fill it up.
Our broken hearts leaking
Out piece by piece.
Slowly we are left to stand
By the side of the river
And beg.
Beg for comfort.
The grief we carry leaks out.
I grieve with you.
Your pain reaches into mine and I am left to again
Add my tears to the never ceasing river.
My pain touches those I know.
And its ripples leave
Frustrated and sometimes angry hearts behind.
Sometimes it still hurts.
And I forget how to deal.
O brothers.
Be patient with us.
O sisters
Be patient with us.
Our pain still echoes in our souls.
We cry it out.
But the wound is never healed.
We are never healed.
Only comforted.
Only surrounded.
Some days the wound is leaking.
Some days it is salved.
We are sometimes not ourselves.
Don't leave us by the side of the river to simply leak out our tears.
Invite us into your arms.
Invite us into your homes.
If we refuse to come in
Stand beside us and cry with us.
Add your sorrow to the river.
We will feel comforted.
To know we are not the only ones to let our
Sorrow drip down one tear after the other.
We won't have to say,
If only you knew.
Our tears fill the river named
Sorrow.
Its flow is never stopped
Our tears will always flow.
We will always flow into the river of sorrow.
We are begging for comfort.
Invite.