If being broken is the price of remaining reliant on God, it's more than worth the price.
I watched The Village the other evening and I forgot how much I love that movie. The imagery, the music, and the beautiful truths that it shares. So many possibilities for object lessons. But the idea that is sticking out to me is the idea of seeing light when others can only see darkness. It's not easy to see hope all the time and in every situation, but I am trying to do so and I think recently I've been doing a pretty decent job of it.
And of course, because I think too much that reminds me of something else, and I'm probably leaving a few steps out (or maybe this is more evident), but it also reminds me of those Good Friday services Grace Point has each year. As the story of Christ's cruxifiction and death unfold, candles are extinguished one after another. Until that darkest of all moments, when Christ breathed his last and the final candle is snuffed leaving the room void of all light; the situation seemingly hopeless.
But then, that last candle is re-lit, because while it seemed all was lost, hope still remained.
The whole light representing hope is a common theme that is often woven into story lines. I think of the light Frodo is given in The Lord of the Rings. Harvey Dent's speech about how it's always darkest before the dawn in The Dark Knight.
The idea of hope is woven into the fabric of humanity.
But it's not always easy to see. Sometimes it seems diminished, even faded away all together. But it's not. There's always. Or at least there's always hope where it truly matters and it is needed the most.
I may not know how, or why, or when something will work out, but I see the hope. It's there. And I trust that God will bring it about in His timing, to His glory.
He is close to the brokenhearted. He'll restore hope. He'll shed light.
My heart's about to break;
I'm a burned-out case...
What I do, God, is wait for you,
wait for my Lord, my God—you will answer!
Psalm 38:10, 14 (The Message)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Who I Am Hates Who I've Been
The key to writing is to simply do it. Though I suppose to the key to just about anything is to do it. If you are a firefighter it because you fight fires. If you are a chef is because you prepare meals. So if you are a writer, you should be writing.
I call myself a writer, yet I find myself shrugging off the actual responsibility of writing.
That is changing. I'm going to find my voice and tell the stories that have been building up. Stories of love, and adventure, and daring, and good fighting evil, because these are the stories I cherish and want others to come to love as well.
They are my stories in that they declare what is true of my heart, the core of what I am.
I just need to the courage to tell them. I want the courage, I want to share, but I still find myself intimidated by the prospect, the vulnerability of putting those stories out there for others to form opinions of. Those stories are an extension of my heart; so a story ill-received is a heart ill-received.
The stories easiest to tell are the ones that I have lived for myself. Not exactly event for event, or word for word, but the emotions that are conveyed; the struggles that are conquered or yielded to.
I'm still looking for all the right words to tell the story of betrayal...the story where she feels betrayed only to discover that in actuality it was she that did the deceiving. The stories of paradox. Those stories speak to me, that just fall in on themselves, because there is seldom ever a straight line. Things are folded over, here and there, and several times over.
It all fits together and I want to help put things as they should, I just need to figure out how.
And there is also something to be said for being both clear and concise, and habit I am still in need of developing...
I call myself a writer, yet I find myself shrugging off the actual responsibility of writing.
That is changing. I'm going to find my voice and tell the stories that have been building up. Stories of love, and adventure, and daring, and good fighting evil, because these are the stories I cherish and want others to come to love as well.
They are my stories in that they declare what is true of my heart, the core of what I am.
I just need to the courage to tell them. I want the courage, I want to share, but I still find myself intimidated by the prospect, the vulnerability of putting those stories out there for others to form opinions of. Those stories are an extension of my heart; so a story ill-received is a heart ill-received.
The stories easiest to tell are the ones that I have lived for myself. Not exactly event for event, or word for word, but the emotions that are conveyed; the struggles that are conquered or yielded to.
I'm still looking for all the right words to tell the story of betrayal...the story where she feels betrayed only to discover that in actuality it was she that did the deceiving. The stories of paradox. Those stories speak to me, that just fall in on themselves, because there is seldom ever a straight line. Things are folded over, here and there, and several times over.
It all fits together and I want to help put things as they should, I just need to figure out how.
And there is also something to be said for being both clear and concise, and habit I am still in need of developing...
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
change the world
So there's a saying these days about how one should be the change they want to see happen and I think I'm going to try it.
I'm not going to first play by the rules Ithink know aren't the best.
I'm not going to comply with a flawed system simply so I can state that it's flawed.
I'm not going to do what is typical, because the typical for most people isn't what I'm after.
I'm God is going to change the world, and the change has already started within me.
I'm not going to first play by the rules I
I'm not going to comply with a flawed system simply so I can state that it's flawed.
I'm not going to do what is typical, because the typical for most people isn't what I'm after.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Living My Strengths
A week or so ago, Steve gave me a book entitled "Living Your Strengths" which is deigned to help pinpoint what one's strengths are and how they can better utilize them. It's in reaction to the mind set that rather than trying to make up for weaknesses, it's better to embrace what you're already naturally gifted at and use that to it's fullest. I'd like to say that I've read it and have a very good handle on all of it, but alas, I have not read through all of it yet, but I did however take the quiz to identify what my five most prevalent strengths are. And they are as follows:
Input
You are inquisitive. You collect things. You might collect information—words, facts, books, and quotations—or you might collect tangible objects such as butterflies, baseball cards, porcelain dolls, or sepia photographs. Whatever you collect, you collect it because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting. The world is exciting precisely because of its infinite variety and complexity. If you read a great deal, it is not necessarily to refine your theories but, rather, to add more information to your archives. If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing it is often hard to say exactly when or why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful? With all those possible uses in mind, you really don’t feel comfortable throwing anything away. So you keep acquiring and compiling and filing stuff away. It’s interesting. It keeps your mind fresh. And perhaps one day some of it will prove valuable.
Adaptability
You live in the moment. You don’t see the future as a fixed destination. Instead, you see it as a place that you create out of the choices that you make right now. And so you discover your future one choice at a time. This doesn’t mean that you don’t have plans. You probably do. But this theme of Adaptability does enable you to respond willingly to the demands of the moment even if they pull you away from your plans. Unlike some, you don’t resent sudden requests or unforeseen detours. You expect them. They are inevitable. Indeed, on some level you actually look forward to them. You are, at heart, a very flexible person who can stay productive when the demands of work are pulling you in many different directions at once.
Intellection
You like to think. You like mental activity. You like exercising the “muscles” of your brain, stretching them in multiple directions. This need for mental activity may be focused; for example, you may be trying to solve a problem or develop an idea or understand another person’s feelings. The exact focus will depend on your other strengths. On the other hand, this mental activity may very well lack focus. The theme of Intellection does not dictate what you are thinking about; it simply describes that you like to think. You are the kind of person who enjoys your time alone because it is your time for musing and reflection. You are introspective. In a sense you are your own best companion, as you pose yourself questions and try out answers on yourself to see how they sound. This introspection may lead you to a slight sense of discontent as you compare what you are actually doing with all the thoughts and ideas that your mind conceives. Or this introspection may tend toward more pragmatic matters such as the events of the day or a conversation that you plan to have later. Wherever it leads you, this mental hum is one of the constants of your life.
Connectedness
Things happen for a reason. You are sure of it. You are sure of it because in your soul you know that we are all connected. Yes, we are individuals, responsible for our own judgments and in possession of our own free will, but nonetheless we are part of something larger. Some may call it the collective unconscious. Others may label it spirit or life force. But whatever your word of choice, you gain confidence from knowing that we are not isolated from one another or from the earth and the life on it. This feeling of Connectedness implies certain responsibilities. If we are all part of a larger picture, then we must not harm others because we will be harming ourselves. We must not exploit because we will be exploiting ourselves. Your awareness of these responsibilities creates your value system. You are considerate, caring, and accepting. Certain of the unity of humankind, you are a bridge builder for people of different cultures. Sensitive to the invisible hand, you can give others comfort that there is a purpose beyond our humdrum lives. The exact articles of your faith will depend on your upbringing and your culture, but your faith is strong. It sustains you and your close friends in the face of life’s mysteries.
Developer
You see the potential in others. Very often, in fact, potential is all you see. In your view no individual is fully formed. On the contrary, each individual is a work in progress, alive with possibilities. And you are drawn toward people for this very reason. When you interact with others, your goal is to help them experience success. You look for ways to challenge them. You devise interesting experiences that can stretch them and help them grow. And all the while you are on the lookout for the signs of growth—a new behavior learned or modified, a slight improvement in a skill, a glimpse of excellence or of “flow” where previously there were only halting steps. For you these small increments—invisible to some—are clear signs of potential being realized. These signs of growth in others are your fuel. They bring you strength and satisfaction. Over time many will seek you out for help and encouragement because on some level they know that your helpfulness is both genuine and fulfilling to you.
Hopefully I'll get some time soon to read more of the book and garner a better idea of how exactly I can use these talents to their fullest.
Input
You are inquisitive. You collect things. You might collect information—words, facts, books, and quotations—or you might collect tangible objects such as butterflies, baseball cards, porcelain dolls, or sepia photographs. Whatever you collect, you collect it because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting. The world is exciting precisely because of its infinite variety and complexity. If you read a great deal, it is not necessarily to refine your theories but, rather, to add more information to your archives. If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing it is often hard to say exactly when or why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful? With all those possible uses in mind, you really don’t feel comfortable throwing anything away. So you keep acquiring and compiling and filing stuff away. It’s interesting. It keeps your mind fresh. And perhaps one day some of it will prove valuable.
Adaptability
You live in the moment. You don’t see the future as a fixed destination. Instead, you see it as a place that you create out of the choices that you make right now. And so you discover your future one choice at a time. This doesn’t mean that you don’t have plans. You probably do. But this theme of Adaptability does enable you to respond willingly to the demands of the moment even if they pull you away from your plans. Unlike some, you don’t resent sudden requests or unforeseen detours. You expect them. They are inevitable. Indeed, on some level you actually look forward to them. You are, at heart, a very flexible person who can stay productive when the demands of work are pulling you in many different directions at once.
Intellection
You like to think. You like mental activity. You like exercising the “muscles” of your brain, stretching them in multiple directions. This need for mental activity may be focused; for example, you may be trying to solve a problem or develop an idea or understand another person’s feelings. The exact focus will depend on your other strengths. On the other hand, this mental activity may very well lack focus. The theme of Intellection does not dictate what you are thinking about; it simply describes that you like to think. You are the kind of person who enjoys your time alone because it is your time for musing and reflection. You are introspective. In a sense you are your own best companion, as you pose yourself questions and try out answers on yourself to see how they sound. This introspection may lead you to a slight sense of discontent as you compare what you are actually doing with all the thoughts and ideas that your mind conceives. Or this introspection may tend toward more pragmatic matters such as the events of the day or a conversation that you plan to have later. Wherever it leads you, this mental hum is one of the constants of your life.
Connectedness
Things happen for a reason. You are sure of it. You are sure of it because in your soul you know that we are all connected. Yes, we are individuals, responsible for our own judgments and in possession of our own free will, but nonetheless we are part of something larger. Some may call it the collective unconscious. Others may label it spirit or life force. But whatever your word of choice, you gain confidence from knowing that we are not isolated from one another or from the earth and the life on it. This feeling of Connectedness implies certain responsibilities. If we are all part of a larger picture, then we must not harm others because we will be harming ourselves. We must not exploit because we will be exploiting ourselves. Your awareness of these responsibilities creates your value system. You are considerate, caring, and accepting. Certain of the unity of humankind, you are a bridge builder for people of different cultures. Sensitive to the invisible hand, you can give others comfort that there is a purpose beyond our humdrum lives. The exact articles of your faith will depend on your upbringing and your culture, but your faith is strong. It sustains you and your close friends in the face of life’s mysteries.
Developer
You see the potential in others. Very often, in fact, potential is all you see. In your view no individual is fully formed. On the contrary, each individual is a work in progress, alive with possibilities. And you are drawn toward people for this very reason. When you interact with others, your goal is to help them experience success. You look for ways to challenge them. You devise interesting experiences that can stretch them and help them grow. And all the while you are on the lookout for the signs of growth—a new behavior learned or modified, a slight improvement in a skill, a glimpse of excellence or of “flow” where previously there were only halting steps. For you these small increments—invisible to some—are clear signs of potential being realized. These signs of growth in others are your fuel. They bring you strength and satisfaction. Over time many will seek you out for help and encouragement because on some level they know that your helpfulness is both genuine and fulfilling to you.
Hopefully I'll get some time soon to read more of the book and garner a better idea of how exactly I can use these talents to their fullest.
Friday, July 11, 2008
there was no thief
For a time I thought there was a thief among us
I thought I'd track him down but prior to my pursuit
The smoke it cleared into my disbelief
There was no thief
Cause it was me that lost you
There was no thief
Cause it was me that lost you
I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back
And I understand why you wouldn't want to
I guess it's up to me to find a way to get to you
And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me
I can't see you
Getting used to
Living in the midst of your perfection
And I'm so lost
How can you trust
Somewhere the sun is always shining
And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me
I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back
I thought I'd track him down but prior to my pursuit
The smoke it cleared into my disbelief
There was no thief
Cause it was me that lost you
There was no thief
Cause it was me that lost you
I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back
And I understand why you wouldn't want to
I guess it's up to me to find a way to get to you
And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me
I can't see you
Getting used to
Living in the midst of your perfection
And I'm so lost
How can you trust
Somewhere the sun is always shining
And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me
I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back
There Was No Thief
Relient K
When I saw the title of this song on the album, my heart gave a little skip. Could this really be a follow up to The Thief from the Apathetic EP?
Yes, it is a follow-up.
And it's amazing. And wonderful. And perfect.
Though my brain switched from words to storyboards, so I'm not sure what that's going to mean.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Independence Day
I'm greatly looking forward to a very relaxing day with the Johnson's and just generally chilling.
I'm very grateful for how they've seemed to adopt me in a sense. That they let me hang out their house and just generally let me a small part of their lives by sharing with me.
They're modeling the type of home I would someday love to have. A place where people are welcome to come over and just enjoy life. It's such an easy way to love people and to honor God.
I was reading John the other day and I was thinking about how God perceives humans, and I wonder if we ever surprise him. Now I know that this raises all sorts of possible debates about sovereignty, free will, God's omniscient nature, and the such, but I'm curious as to where humanity's ability to be surprised came from.
I think surprise can be broken into two types of surprise - delight and shock. Delight will be that surprise that gives you joy, maybe it fulfills a hope in a way you were expecting. Shock is when you are beside yourself (it could be positive or negative), and something really just hits you from out of the blue. Maybe there are other types of surprise, but those have been the ones I've been thinking about this week.
Maybe sometimes surprise is the result of having no pre-established expectations. If you expect something and then it comes to pass, are you surprised that it happened (maybe though you could still be surprised at how it happened)?
I'm not sure what in John triggered this (maybe that John paints Jesus as experiencing all these emotions, and as Jesus was the perfect man he would have felt all the human emotions, and as Jesus the son, maybe he felt surprised sometimes, which then it made me think if God the father ever experienced surprise).
It's funny though because for all the possible debate it could stir up, whether or not God is surprised or not isn't something to get hung up on. It's just something I wondered, and either way, it doesn't stop God from being God.
I'm very grateful for how they've seemed to adopt me in a sense. That they let me hang out their house and just generally let me a small part of their lives by sharing with me.
They're modeling the type of home I would someday love to have. A place where people are welcome to come over and just enjoy life. It's such an easy way to love people and to honor God.
I was reading John the other day and I was thinking about how God perceives humans, and I wonder if we ever surprise him. Now I know that this raises all sorts of possible debates about sovereignty, free will, God's omniscient nature, and the such, but I'm curious as to where humanity's ability to be surprised came from.
I think surprise can be broken into two types of surprise - delight and shock. Delight will be that surprise that gives you joy, maybe it fulfills a hope in a way you were expecting. Shock is when you are beside yourself (it could be positive or negative), and something really just hits you from out of the blue. Maybe there are other types of surprise, but those have been the ones I've been thinking about this week.
Maybe sometimes surprise is the result of having no pre-established expectations. If you expect something and then it comes to pass, are you surprised that it happened (maybe though you could still be surprised at how it happened)?
I'm not sure what in John triggered this (maybe that John paints Jesus as experiencing all these emotions, and as Jesus was the perfect man he would have felt all the human emotions, and as Jesus the son, maybe he felt surprised sometimes, which then it made me think if God the father ever experienced surprise).
It's funny though because for all the possible debate it could stir up, whether or not God is surprised or not isn't something to get hung up on. It's just something I wondered, and either way, it doesn't stop God from being God.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
the broken record
So willfully I subject myself to these hopes.
Why can't I let my brain take control?
Why does my heart do this?
Doesn't it learn?
Doesn't it remember?
I need Psalms.
Why can't I let my brain take control?
Why does my heart do this?
Doesn't it learn?
Doesn't it remember?
I need Psalms.
Friday, June 20, 2008
resolute
Tomorrow (though I guess technically given the hour, later today) I am going to get my tattoo.
More so, I will be going by myself, which is probably fitting anyway.
It would be nice and beyond wonderful to have a hand to hold, and as for much as I would like there to be a hand to hold, I don't need a hand to hold.
This acknowledgment is an acknowledgment of truth. Truth that makes me a little bit sad, because I feel like I will be sealing a fate tomorrow.
Oh, how I like those symbolic gestures and rituals of hidden meaning.
And ample vagueness.
More so, I will be going by myself, which is probably fitting anyway.
It would be nice and beyond wonderful to have a hand to hold, and as for much as I would like there to be a hand to hold, I don't need a hand to hold.
This acknowledgment is an acknowledgment of truth. Truth that makes me a little bit sad, because I feel like I will be sealing a fate tomorrow.
Oh, how I like those symbolic gestures and rituals of hidden meaning.
And ample vagueness.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
the night I ripped the teal bracelet off
I just ripped the teal bracelet off. It was harder than I thought and it even hurt a little.
Me and my symbolic gestures. Even if they only hold meaning to me, at least it's absence will remind me.
Why don't I learn? I should be a cynic ten times over, but no, I keep going.
Is there a point where hope in a hopeless situation becomes a liability?
It stings a little, but I know that I'll be right back in this same place again and again, even if I try to avoid it, it won't let me. It's the same course I've followed time and time again.
Me and my symbolic gestures. Even if they only hold meaning to me, at least it's absence will remind me.
Why don't I learn? I should be a cynic ten times over, but no, I keep going.
Is there a point where hope in a hopeless situation becomes a liability?
It stings a little, but I know that I'll be right back in this same place again and again, even if I try to avoid it, it won't let me. It's the same course I've followed time and time again.
Friday, May 30, 2008
set fire to the third bar
Confession: Whenever "Set Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright comes across my playlist, I have to listen to it at least three times. I'm not sure why.
Perhaps it's linked to why I would listen Brand New's "You Won't Know" repeatedly.
Or that day I left The Decemberist's "Mariner's Revenge Song" on repeat for about an hour.
Maybe I suffer from some sort of musical OCD.
Perhaps it's linked to why I would listen Brand New's "You Won't Know" repeatedly.
Or that day I left The Decemberist's "Mariner's Revenge Song" on repeat for about an hour.
Maybe I suffer from some sort of musical OCD.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
eponine's lament
This past weekend was Mar's bachelorette party, which was basically a night out in New Hope accompanied by a scavenger hunt.
I've really got to let go of my need to win, as when it was determined that I was no longer in the lead with points, I went after a high scoring item: five hand written philosophies (from guys) regarding marriage. I had secured one earlier in the evening as a way to pass the time waiting for dinner to be served, and I saw opportunity present itself when in came a group of three girls and four guys, all of which were pretty approachable looking (no small feat in New Hope).
So I grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins from the bar and broke into their circle of conversation, readily making myself entertainment fodder for the gaggle of girls at the next table over.
Three of them got to work at once on their napkins, but the fourth was hesitant, and even distanced himself from the rest of the group as he thought his answer out. I started up conversation with one of the girls who happened to be sitting next me, asking general questions about how everyone in the group was connected, etc, and she mentioned that she was curious as to how they were responding to my request.
I offered her the three napkins I already had gotten back, and mentioned how I was still waiting for one more. Her response was that the one I was waiting for was the one she was most interested in. I asked if he was her boyfriend. She unapologetically answered, "No, but I'm hoping."
Mr. Hesitation ended up stirring up lots of interest the rest of the night.
After receiving such a blunt, honest response from this girl, I wanted to remove myself from the group, so I went over to him to see if I could just get a quick sentence scribbled down and be on my way. It was his hook.
The next three hours we ended up having a few more conversations.
His name is Greg.
Abbey, in a very un-Abbey manner point blank asks for his number.
Lisa keeps threatening me that I need to go over and talk to him more.
But I felt guilty.
The nameless, hopeful girl reminded me too much of me, and I didn't want to do that to her.
I've always identified with Eponine, the girl in the wings, hoping that one day, Marius would take notice and realize how much he loves her in return. And I think that eventually Marius would have taken notice of Eponine and loved her, but Cosette entered the picture ending all hope Eponine had and essentially dooming her.
Just one more day on her own.
I've really got to let go of my need to win, as when it was determined that I was no longer in the lead with points, I went after a high scoring item: five hand written philosophies (from guys) regarding marriage. I had secured one earlier in the evening as a way to pass the time waiting for dinner to be served, and I saw opportunity present itself when in came a group of three girls and four guys, all of which were pretty approachable looking (no small feat in New Hope).
So I grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins from the bar and broke into their circle of conversation, readily making myself entertainment fodder for the gaggle of girls at the next table over.
Three of them got to work at once on their napkins, but the fourth was hesitant, and even distanced himself from the rest of the group as he thought his answer out. I started up conversation with one of the girls who happened to be sitting next me, asking general questions about how everyone in the group was connected, etc, and she mentioned that she was curious as to how they were responding to my request.
I offered her the three napkins I already had gotten back, and mentioned how I was still waiting for one more. Her response was that the one I was waiting for was the one she was most interested in. I asked if he was her boyfriend. She unapologetically answered, "No, but I'm hoping."
Mr. Hesitation ended up stirring up lots of interest the rest of the night.
After receiving such a blunt, honest response from this girl, I wanted to remove myself from the group, so I went over to him to see if I could just get a quick sentence scribbled down and be on my way. It was his hook.
The next three hours we ended up having a few more conversations.
His name is Greg.
Abbey, in a very un-Abbey manner point blank asks for his number.
Lisa keeps threatening me that I need to go over and talk to him more.
But I felt guilty.
The nameless, hopeful girl reminded me too much of me, and I didn't want to do that to her.
I've always identified with Eponine, the girl in the wings, hoping that one day, Marius would take notice and realize how much he loves her in return. And I think that eventually Marius would have taken notice of Eponine and loved her, but Cosette entered the picture ending all hope Eponine had and essentially dooming her.
Just one more day on her own.
Friday, May 23, 2008
on holiday
This afternoon at work there was a delightful change of pace when Abbey and I had to covertly build three new chairs (which we did in under an hour, because we generally rock). There's a long explaination as to why the Customer Service Manager and the Analyst had to quickly (and secretly) build these chairs, but that's whole other chapter of crazy.
Though honestly I think everyone was in a fine form, what with half the office out and the rest of us giddy with the promise of an extended weekend. I especially appreciated the e-mail thread debating whether it would be better to spend "stimulate-the-economy" money on going to the UK and following the The Rocket Summer tour or going to New Zealand and somehow ending up getting involved with the production of Voyage of The Dawn Treader.
I ended up voting for New Zealand, deciding that once production wrapped, I could become a shepherdess, a profession I think I have grossly romanticized.
Though honestly I think everyone was in a fine form, what with half the office out and the rest of us giddy with the promise of an extended weekend. I especially appreciated the e-mail thread debating whether it would be better to spend "stimulate-the-economy" money on going to the UK and following the The Rocket Summer tour or going to New Zealand and somehow ending up getting involved with the production of Voyage of The Dawn Treader.
I ended up voting for New Zealand, deciding that once production wrapped, I could become a shepherdess, a profession I think I have grossly romanticized.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
oh the possibilities
My brain is reeling, no where close to winding down for the night and allowing me to sleep.
Three (four if counting students' thoughts) people have suggested that I apply for the youth pastor/director position that has opened up. I thought about it fleetingly before it came apparent that I wasn't qualified as A) I'm a college drop out and B) I'm a woman.
But it keeps popping up, and I am not a believer in coincidence. I think that I need to seriously reassess my stance to youth ministry, because even I'm not trying to think about it, God doesn't seem to want not to think about it.
First and foremost, I want to serve God above all else. Whatever it is I do to earn a living, I want to do for God's glory and glorifying God is not limited to full-time ministry. But of all the possibilities for what I could be doing with my life, with my time, youth ministry has been a constant. It's been one of the few constants in my life for the past six years....I've moved several times, changed schools, dropped out of school and have tried my hand from tour guide to barista to now analyst, and done all this with the thought of "How will this affect my involvement with Cornerstone?" as a highly weighted question in the decision making process.
I love God. I love these students I grown to know more and more over the years.
But, me? Even during my time at PBU I never thought of myself in the position...my idea was that maybe in a few years down the road, some sort of associate youth position at a church that already has an established youth pastor might open up and that would be a very cool thing if that second person for the job would be a female...aka me. But then I'd not be apart of Grace Point, it would be a another church.
It's strange that all these things seem to be colliding together at the same time.
When I moved into town last year, I convinced myself that this would be my last year here. That I would spend the time building my portfolio, doing the research and come the summer of 2008 hit the open road and write.
That year is coming to a close in three weeks...
My notions and fears of unfaithfulness seem to be a hitting a pinnacle.
Tonight, when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a girl; I saw a woman.
So many thoughts, so many ideas, and dreams, and hopes (and always their counterparts of doubts, anxieties, and fears) are muddling my not too long ago clarity in thinking.
Lord, let me have the ears to hear, the eyes to see, and the courage to follow.
Three (four if counting students' thoughts) people have suggested that I apply for the youth pastor/director position that has opened up. I thought about it fleetingly before it came apparent that I wasn't qualified as A) I'm a college drop out and B) I'm a woman.
But it keeps popping up, and I am not a believer in coincidence. I think that I need to seriously reassess my stance to youth ministry, because even I'm not trying to think about it, God doesn't seem to want not to think about it.
First and foremost, I want to serve God above all else. Whatever it is I do to earn a living, I want to do for God's glory and glorifying God is not limited to full-time ministry. But of all the possibilities for what I could be doing with my life, with my time, youth ministry has been a constant. It's been one of the few constants in my life for the past six years....I've moved several times, changed schools, dropped out of school and have tried my hand from tour guide to barista to now analyst, and done all this with the thought of "How will this affect my involvement with Cornerstone?" as a highly weighted question in the decision making process.
I love God. I love these students I grown to know more and more over the years.
But, me? Even during my time at PBU I never thought of myself in the position...my idea was that maybe in a few years down the road, some sort of associate youth position at a church that already has an established youth pastor might open up and that would be a very cool thing if that second person for the job would be a female...aka me. But then I'd not be apart of Grace Point, it would be a another church.
It's strange that all these things seem to be colliding together at the same time.
When I moved into town last year, I convinced myself that this would be my last year here. That I would spend the time building my portfolio, doing the research and come the summer of 2008 hit the open road and write.
That year is coming to a close in three weeks...
My notions and fears of unfaithfulness seem to be a hitting a pinnacle.
Tonight, when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a girl; I saw a woman.
So many thoughts, so many ideas, and dreams, and hopes (and always their counterparts of doubts, anxieties, and fears) are muddling my not too long ago clarity in thinking.
Lord, let me have the ears to hear, the eyes to see, and the courage to follow.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
of minor prophets...
I borrowed my title from a Pedro the Lion song, because it's been running thtough my head all day. Along with The Rocket's Summer "Run To You" as they both have similiar themes. Which oddly enough seems to just be a general running theme in my brain in general.
The idea of being unfaithful haunts me and apparently keeps me up at night.
And now it's late o'clock and I'm still not ready to sleep despite being very tired.
Does haivng faith mean that you'll never stray or that if you do wander away you'll end back where or strayed from, or is it some sort of melding of those two ideas?
The idea of being unfaithful haunts me and apparently keeps me up at night.
And now it's late o'clock and I'm still not ready to sleep despite being very tired.
Does haivng faith mean that you'll never stray or that if you do wander away you'll end back where or strayed from, or is it some sort of melding of those two ideas?
Sunday, April 27, 2008
epilogue
"Who is she?"
"I'm sorry."
"Who is she?" I repeated weakly. I couldn't stand to look at him, but I needed to see for myself. I needed to know for sure that it was over.
He didn't open his mouth again, but his eyes told me. They showed the depths of his soul, and I could always read them. They were what drew me to him in the first place. And now all I could see in them was regret.
I stood in disbelief, lips parted, pieces of my hair falling down like the pieces of my marriage.
Uncertainty seemed to be all we had left.
I broke away from his pleading gaze, unwilling to subject myself to any more of this torment. I had to get out. I couldn’t look up. I blindly grabbed a bag and starting grabbing whatever clothing my hands landed on, my eyes fixed downward, afraid to take in any of the reminders that surrounded me. The air stopped short in my chest, and I chanced a glance at my reflection, as I grasped the top of the bureau.
Six years had just been ripped from my soul, and their absence showed.
His figure came into focus just over my shoulder and the stare I had broken off earlier was restored.
“I…I…” My anger had ebbed into pain, the words caught in the back of my throat. “I didn’t think it would end like this. I didn’t think that we’d end. This isn’t what you promised me.”
I turned to face him. I knew that he was unsure of what to do, of what he could possibly offer to me other than the name I demanded. The regret was now edged with sorrow.
“I have to go.”
I clutched the bag, buffering myself from him as I hurried by and out of the house.
"I'm sorry."
"Who is she?" I repeated weakly. I couldn't stand to look at him, but I needed to see for myself. I needed to know for sure that it was over.
He didn't open his mouth again, but his eyes told me. They showed the depths of his soul, and I could always read them. They were what drew me to him in the first place. And now all I could see in them was regret.
I stood in disbelief, lips parted, pieces of my hair falling down like the pieces of my marriage.
Uncertainty seemed to be all we had left.
I broke away from his pleading gaze, unwilling to subject myself to any more of this torment. I had to get out. I couldn’t look up. I blindly grabbed a bag and starting grabbing whatever clothing my hands landed on, my eyes fixed downward, afraid to take in any of the reminders that surrounded me. The air stopped short in my chest, and I chanced a glance at my reflection, as I grasped the top of the bureau.
Six years had just been ripped from my soul, and their absence showed.
His figure came into focus just over my shoulder and the stare I had broken off earlier was restored.
“I…I…” My anger had ebbed into pain, the words caught in the back of my throat. “I didn’t think it would end like this. I didn’t think that we’d end. This isn’t what you promised me.”
I turned to face him. I knew that he was unsure of what to do, of what he could possibly offer to me other than the name I demanded. The regret was now edged with sorrow.
“I have to go.”
I clutched the bag, buffering myself from him as I hurried by and out of the house.
Having small group at Starbucks is dangerous and I of course broke my no caffeine after 2 PM rule...I didn't just cross the line, I made a running start towards it and took a humongous leap. Since Starbucks offers the steady brew of Pike's Place roast now everyday it's become more conventional (read: affordable and less snooty) to order a pressed pot's worth of coffee. Since it was meant for sharing, I ordered two, which resulted in me drinking about 3 and half cups' worth, so now I'm slightly wired.
I need to start forcing myself to write...it's not enough to scribble done ideas and snippets of scenes and plot out (very loose) outlines. I need to just buckle down and write, let the story flow, let my character's speak their mind and have the story progress, but I keep getting hung up on this idea of perfection. I think it honestly comes down to the fact that I hate editing, mainly because I know that a good edit needs to come from someone who is not mean which means that I would have to let another person actually read something I write. That is a terrifying thought. I'm not sure why that is.
I've been toying with the idea of not being right all the time. That it is okay, and actually acceptable (rather human) to not be perfect at everything...or at least not be perfect the first time through something. There's something horrifying at taking something on and not being able to accomplish it. That's a weird thought, because I look back at stuff in my life and there's defiantly been a mixture of success with failure; and I know that I got through the failure.
But people like it more when you succeed, when you show them, "hey, I'm pretty good at this and with little prep; I'm sort of prodigy." There's something to be said about that.
That's my pride shining through in a way, I suppose. The ability to take on something I really don't have a right to take on, but somehow am naturally gifted at it and throwing off the curve for my peers. Oh how I would relish in throwing off learning curves. Not only can I grasp this concept better than you, I'll do it three times faster too! School was like when I was kid. And then something happened. That something is still debatable, but the point was, that information could be thrown at me and it would make sense and stick to my brain.
I need to look at the things that I didn't instantly succeed at though, like school the latter years. Not a whole lot of impressiveness going on there. My graduating was a Herculean task; and not for lack of intelligence, but apparently whatever it was that used to motivate me to achieve above exception grades just wasn't there anymore. And it carried onto college. I wonder now, if I were to go back if I would take it more seriously that I would strive to get good grades, that I would be willing to work towards being adequate instead of extraordinary.
Why do I struggle with being adequate? It's a perfectly respectable goal that many people are OK with achieving and not daring beyond. What is my drive to be extraordinary and why would I rather something not at all if it cannot be awesome?
I sound like my whiny 19 year old self again. Does everything in life need to be dissected as much as I like to take apart and over-analyze things? Maybe that's why I'm so good at my job. The surface level is never enough. I have to keep picking and digging until I find the imperfections and eradicate them.
Good for managing databases; bad for living life.
I need to just get over myself and start doing the things all the things I want to do.
But I need to start yesterday.
I need to start forcing myself to write...it's not enough to scribble done ideas and snippets of scenes and plot out (very loose) outlines. I need to just buckle down and write, let the story flow, let my character's speak their mind and have the story progress, but I keep getting hung up on this idea of perfection. I think it honestly comes down to the fact that I hate editing, mainly because I know that a good edit needs to come from someone who is not mean which means that I would have to let another person actually read something I write. That is a terrifying thought. I'm not sure why that is.
I've been toying with the idea of not being right all the time. That it is okay, and actually acceptable (rather human) to not be perfect at everything...or at least not be perfect the first time through something. There's something horrifying at taking something on and not being able to accomplish it. That's a weird thought, because I look back at stuff in my life and there's defiantly been a mixture of success with failure; and I know that I got through the failure.
But people like it more when you succeed, when you show them, "hey, I'm pretty good at this and with little prep; I'm sort of prodigy." There's something to be said about that.
That's my pride shining through in a way, I suppose. The ability to take on something I really don't have a right to take on, but somehow am naturally gifted at it and throwing off the curve for my peers. Oh how I would relish in throwing off learning curves. Not only can I grasp this concept better than you, I'll do it three times faster too! School was like when I was kid. And then something happened. That something is still debatable, but the point was, that information could be thrown at me and it would make sense and stick to my brain.
I need to look at the things that I didn't instantly succeed at though, like school the latter years. Not a whole lot of impressiveness going on there. My graduating was a Herculean task; and not for lack of intelligence, but apparently whatever it was that used to motivate me to achieve above exception grades just wasn't there anymore. And it carried onto college. I wonder now, if I were to go back if I would take it more seriously that I would strive to get good grades, that I would be willing to work towards being adequate instead of extraordinary.
Why do I struggle with being adequate? It's a perfectly respectable goal that many people are OK with achieving and not daring beyond. What is my drive to be extraordinary and why would I rather something not at all if it cannot be awesome?
I sound like my whiny 19 year old self again. Does everything in life need to be dissected as much as I like to take apart and over-analyze things? Maybe that's why I'm so good at my job. The surface level is never enough. I have to keep picking and digging until I find the imperfections and eradicate them.
Good for managing databases; bad for living life.
I need to just get over myself and start doing the things all the things I want to do.
But I need to start yesterday.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
testimony
I'm giving my testimony Wednesday and it's been interesting planning it so far. The thing about a person's testimony, is that as long as that person keeps existing, their testimony keeps going.
It's not like there was this one moment in my life where God intervened and that was it. He intervened and he keeps changing things, revealing things, and so my story of what he's doing in life keeps going. There really isn't going to be an end, till there is an end, so it's always ongoing.
And I like it. I like that my relationship with God isn't fully "set", that I'll keep learning, keep discovering, and pursuing deeper intimaticy with him.
And I think that's what I'll talk about on Wednesday, that it's a continuing process, it's not just a one-time thing. Not a siply before-and-after, but more like a before-and-after-then after that-then after that-then after that, and so on.
It's not like there was this one moment in my life where God intervened and that was it. He intervened and he keeps changing things, revealing things, and so my story of what he's doing in life keeps going. There really isn't going to be an end, till there is an end, so it's always ongoing.
And I like it. I like that my relationship with God isn't fully "set", that I'll keep learning, keep discovering, and pursuing deeper intimaticy with him.
And I think that's what I'll talk about on Wednesday, that it's a continuing process, it's not just a one-time thing. Not a siply before-and-after, but more like a before-and-after-then after that-then after that-then after that, and so on.
Monday, March 10, 2008
handmaiden
I attended A Pampered Chef party at Talia's a few weeks ago, and whilst poking around her apartment I found a box of Hebrew flashcards. I promptly broke them out, found handmaiden and copied it into my moleskine.
Though I'd still like to see what the word looks like in Greeak and Aramaic before deciding which to have tatooed.
Or when I'll have money for such a thing...
Though I'd still like to see what the word looks like in Greeak and Aramaic before deciding which to have tatooed.
Or when I'll have money for such a thing...
Sunday, January 20, 2008
merriam wbester's words of the year
m-w.com polled it's users to determine the top ten words of 2007 which are as follows:
1. w00t - (interjection) expressing joy (it could be after a triumph, or for no reason at all); similar in use to the word "yay". This word is considered a "l33t" (elite) term, not officially in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, but included in their online Open Dictionary.
So the word of the year isn't technically a word, it's a sequence of letters and digits. Are the gaming geeks of the world rejoicing at this? Though this is coming form the girl that instead of saying "just kidding" opts for J-K... in my defence, at least I don't verbalize L-O-L...when that day comes I will have to fling myself in front of the grammar train.
2. facebook (verb) : To get on a facebook website. Did you facebook today? Another Open Dictionary entry.
Again, another word that in reality isn't a word, but thanks to our culture's shift in self promotion through technology has become a phase as ubiquitous as posting a letter (for those of you who still actually hand write notes and let the government deliver it for you).
3. conundrum (noun ) 1: a riddle whose answer is or involves a pun 2 a: a question or problem having only a conjectural answer b: an intricate and difficult problem
This is a cool sounding word. Don't even think about it's meaning, just say it aloud. Fun, eh? I remember the first time I actually put effort forth to learn this word, it was after watching The Ring and it was a word that the kid has learned while the babysitter was over. That 9 year old kid spurred me on since it seemed like an interesting word to add to my repertoire, however most of the things that I find baffling in my life usually end up in the paradoxical category.
4. quixotic (adjective) 1: foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of ideals; especially marked by rash lofty romantic ideas or extravagantly chivalrous action 2: capricious, unpredictable
Kudos for Don Quixote's adjective to make it to the list. Yes, he is a fictional character, and no I can't remember the name of the author who penned his tale at this time, but I like the idea of have an adjective fashioned after a person (fictional or otherwise). I've always been captivated by the idea of living such a passionate life in that I could be summed in a short phase or single word. Don Quixote has actualized my dream, so he's my role-model in that sense...though there are a few windmills that need addressing...
5. blamestorming (verb): Gathering around in a group to discuss why a deadline was missed or a project failed and who is to blame or responsible. All the managers were locked up in a meeting for the all day blamestorming about the lost contract.
1. w00t - (interjection) expressing joy (it could be after a triumph, or for no reason at all); similar in use to the word "yay". This word is considered a "l33t" (elite) term, not officially in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, but included in their online Open Dictionary.
So the word of the year isn't technically a word, it's a sequence of letters and digits. Are the gaming geeks of the world rejoicing at this? Though this is coming form the girl that instead of saying "just kidding" opts for J-K... in my defence, at least I don't verbalize L-O-L...when that day comes I will have to fling myself in front of the grammar train.
2. facebook (verb) : To get on a facebook website. Did you facebook today? Another Open Dictionary entry.
Again, another word that in reality isn't a word, but thanks to our culture's shift in self promotion through technology has become a phase as ubiquitous as posting a letter (for those of you who still actually hand write notes and let the government deliver it for you).
3. conundrum (noun ) 1: a riddle whose answer is or involves a pun 2 a: a question or problem having only a conjectural answer b: an intricate and difficult problem
This is a cool sounding word. Don't even think about it's meaning, just say it aloud. Fun, eh? I remember the first time I actually put effort forth to learn this word, it was after watching The Ring and it was a word that the kid has learned while the babysitter was over. That 9 year old kid spurred me on since it seemed like an interesting word to add to my repertoire, however most of the things that I find baffling in my life usually end up in the paradoxical category.
4. quixotic (adjective) 1: foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of ideals; especially marked by rash lofty romantic ideas or extravagantly chivalrous action 2: capricious, unpredictable
Kudos for Don Quixote's adjective to make it to the list. Yes, he is a fictional character, and no I can't remember the name of the author who penned his tale at this time, but I like the idea of have an adjective fashioned after a person (fictional or otherwise). I've always been captivated by the idea of living such a passionate life in that I could be summed in a short phase or single word. Don Quixote has actualized my dream, so he's my role-model in that sense...though there are a few windmills that need addressing...
5. blamestorming (verb): Gathering around in a group to discuss why a deadline was missed or a project failed and who is to blame or responsible. All the managers were locked up in a meeting for the all day blamestorming about the lost contract.
This isn't a "real" word as of yet, but apparently is one that is frequently used in corporate America. This bothers me in that apparently so much time and energy and spent on placing blame on a person that it has warranted it's own verb for it. Why can't people just own up to their actions, believe it or not, it's part of what makes you a responsible person. People mess up, because they're people, but there's a point in life where you kind of just have to accept the fact that you're going to screw up and you need to deal with it, not blame it something or someone else. As my husband says, "the truth is excuses are lame, accept consequences, accept the blame", you'll have more respect for yourself and I will as well.
6. sardoodledom (noun) etymology: sardoodle- (blend of Victorien Sardou [died 1908] French playwright criticized by G. B. Shaw [died 1950] English playwright for the supposed staginess of his plays and English doodle) + -dom 1: mechanically contrived plot structure and stereotyped or unrealistic characterization in drama : staginess, melodrama
Another example of my dream being actualized, though this really isn't a flattering instance of it in action. But it does also have that is that really a word or a child's gibberish vibe to it, which is funny because I would be most inclined to use this word when discussing the drama of teenagers...it's simply sardoodledom.
7. apathetic (adjective) 1 : having or showing little or no feeling or emotion; spiritless 2 : having little or no interest or concern; indifferent
Generally this has been my spiritual life as of late, which is worst than my blaise stage, because I don't even care that I don't care...it is a bit worrisome...maybe I am starting to care again!
8. pecksniffian (adjective) etymology: Seth Pecksniff, character in Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens 1 : unctuously hypocritical; Pharisaical
Third example of my dream coming true, maybe those voting also have a similar dream to mine. Again, not a flattering adjective, but heck, it's a word named for a person.
9. hypocrite (noun) 1 : a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion 2 : a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings
Oh look, the more common synonym for a pecksniffian...though Christ's use of brood of vipers was a good one as well...and the fact that kind of helped make hypocrite a word in the first place. Yey, Greek class!
10. charlatan (noun) 1 : quack 2 : one making usually showy pretenses to knowledge or ability; fraud; faker
I would accuse myself of being this for the commentary I've added under each of these words. Honestly, I could probably do lengthy posts on each word, but for now we'll just stick with this abridged edition.
PS - I think that these words greatly reflect the culture that surrounds you and me and that most days I'm sorely not aware of, but none the less annoyed at.
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