yeah, like the fish

the proposal - an entry from my journal

2011-12-05T11:21:00.001-06:00

i know many of you have been waiting to hear the proposal story. i apologize for the delay; the last several weeks have been dizzily busy. the words i post today are actually my journal entry from the night steve proposed.

november 20, 2011

it was hard to see through the tears; happy ones of course, but i could tell the ring was indeed shiny. or maybe it was the tears that made it sparkle. today was the day i got asked the question that i dreamed of for years...hoping for someone who would hold my hand through this crazy life. someone who would laugh in the midst of chaos with me - for i picture a little bit of just that with a house full of kiddos. speaking of kiddos, i've been searching for someone who will partner with me to redeem the idea of family and love for kids who otherwise would never know these. you dream and search and cry and beg God for these things for years. you hit the verge of giving up many times, but somehow find the strength to press on instead. and in a small moment, it all can change. at least it did for me.

we went for a walk in our favorite park today....rainy and 38 degrees. we stopped along the path to enjoy new-to-us sculptures and animals that we thought we heard. the path dumped us out into clearing which held a big grassy mound. there was a steepness to this pile that prevented people from scurrying up its side. the sculptor had planned it this way as there were also steps to take you to its top. we climbed and i got ahead after feeling sure-footed at the top. he told me not to get too far ahead so i turned around. and just as he did the night we first held hands, he seized the moment, pulling me close. he's always been really great about saying sweet, encouraging things and he did so just then. he finished by saying "i'm going to make you my wife." he has said this before, of course to reassure my own heart so i simply responded with "i know." "no, really. i'm going to make you my wife. can i see your hand?" and in another blip of a moment, he was on his knee, on the wet, muddy grass. on the top of that small mountain, he offered to be my partner; to walk through this crazy life, to laugh in chaos, to love on kids, to change the world with me and asking me to love him for life. then came the tears....

and somewhere in there, a pretty ring.

oh, and michael shelley was out in the woods...taking pictures.

the end of the beginning of the story

2011-11-17T20:29:00.001-06:00

i left the concert a year ago tonight with a bit of a new perspective on steve. you see, sometimes it takes being forced into a new situation with a person to change your perspective, to wipe away your initial judgements.

the evening had started with a group of people at a restaurant very near my home. let me tell you, there's nothing quite as awkward as going on a non-date in the presence of a group of people who know that the boy is interested in you and are analyzing your every move in attempt to figure out what's going on inside of your head in regards to the boy. after dinner, steve and i walked from one end of the loop to the other. it was raining and i had mistakenly chosen to wear heels which meant it was extra slippery. when he offered his arm to keep me from falling, i was begrudgingly impressed. I worried about what using his arm communicated to him, but knew that i needed it to get down the street safely.

let me just pause here for a moment and point out what a great example this is of our need for community. we need others more than we are ever really aware of or even willing to admit. i have most definitely been a victim of my own stubbornness in the past; trying to do things on my own sometimes to my detriment. we were created to do life in community. ever since i acknowledged that and allowed people to be my community on a much deeper level, my life has not only been easier, but filled with deep contentment. i was already working on this before i met steve, but having him in my life has made me grow so much more in this area.

back to the story. with his arm, i did make it to the pageant safely. we found a place to stand near the back with our friends, the rowton's, for the opening act, but then moved to the front with our friends, the burke's (they were not yet my friends at this point), for the main act. in between the two bands, steve and i talked a little. it was mostly just friendly get-to-know-you-chat, but he said two things during the course of this that made me go, "hmm." what he said shall remain between the two of us, but i will tell you that it showed his tender side and gave me a glimpse of the fact that he probably understood me more than i ever thought he would. by the time he dropped me off at my house that evening, i thought that we could be friends. but only friends as i was still convinced that i would never date him.

that was a year ago tonight.

the rest of the significant part of the beginning of steve and my love story really happens in december. the brief overview is that we started texting and then g-chatting while at work. there was an occasional email and we started including each other in group activities. my birthday happened in early december. i had invited him but then spent the entire evening a little disappointed that he had strategically sat next me through most of the night. for reasons i will not detail, it turned out to be a good thing that he was with me. after this, i started to look forward to talking to him. one friday (december 17), when thinking about my plans for the evening, i found myself really wanting to hang out with him. so we made plans for a late movie. i spent most of the evening wondering if he was going to try to hold my hand and contemplating what my reaction would be. at one point, i caught him staring at me. and then again later. about the third time i noticed him staring, i expressed my uncomfortability with this in a sarcastic statement and put my hand up to block my face for minute. he seized the moment, and in one swift move, i was holding his hand. i liked it, until the movie was over and then remembered that i only wanted to be friends with him and that friends don't hold hands like that. that very sentence was what i used in my freak out over the phone with him the following day. his response? i think we aren't just friends any more and you need to accept that. those were not his exact words, but that was his point.

the following week, we met for a walk in the park which then turned into a long conversation in his car in the parking lot. (and by conversation, i really do mean conversation). the following night, we were both to be at a rehearsal at church. i still did not want people to know that we were holding hands, but i wanted to hold his hand. he had gotten to church before me so i called him and asked if he would come out to my car. he did and we held hands in secret before going in to rehearsal. i know how ridiculous this sounds, but it really was nice to just have him and whatever was going on between us all to ourselves for a little bit. over an intense weekend of christmas services at church, we would steal glances, sneak texts, and talk with our eyes. and then people started to notice...

so that's the story...at least the very very beginning of it. we decided to call the movie our first date. so our anniversary really isn't until december 17, but i can't help recalling the events of this week. i mean, they have significantly changed my life. and this time, this change, is good.

when first he called

2011-11-15T23:10:00.000-06:00

if you are just joining us, you will probably want to read the last two posts.

even though nothing significant happened a year ago yesterday, you should know that our dear friend nate cybertron was prepping me for whatt would happen a year ago today. the first text from him seemed so innocent: "what are you doing wednesday night?" my response, "nothing, you want to hang out?" was returned with, "you'll have to see and wait." (yes, he really wrote see and wait, not wait and see)

more confused, i bombarded him with texts that really got me no more answers which then prompted me to bug him more over the course of the next couple of days. it wasn't until two days later that i had a clue; this time the message read "you will be receiving a call this evening. make sure you answer."

he was right. at 7:09 pm, the phone rang, and of course, i screened it.

in what i now affectionately call his radio voice, steve said he had an extra ticket to a concert that a bunch of people were going to and that he thought i might like to use it. after hearing the message, i had no idea what to do. at this point, i still wanted very little to do with him. i most definitely did not want him to think this was a date nor did i want him to think that it would lead to more hanging out. i did what any woman in my situation would do: i called another woman. only the woman i called upon was my wise older friend lauri. after a long discussion, she recommended that i go with steve. she help me to see that i could make it clear that it wasn't a date, i wouldn't owe him anything after the fact, and that i'd get a free concert out of it.

so i called the boy back and we made plans for our non-date. and i went...thinking that i would probably never hand out with him again.

obviously, i was wrong.

oh yeah, the extra ticket steve happened to have? i found out months later that he didn't have an extra ticket, but had purchased it when he decided to ask me...hoping that i would go...

the story behind the story

2011-11-14T21:18:00.001-06:00

so the story continues.....slowly.

although this is the anniversary of the beginning of our story, nothing significant happened on this day. in light of this, i thought it would be appropriate to share the back story as it makes the whole thing even better. therefore, i give you...

the prequel, in two parts

the part that involves steve

nearly three years ago, i started attending a new church. i met a friendly guy there named matt who helped me to connect to a bigger network of people my age. one evening matt had invited me over to his house for a birthday party for some guy i had never met (yes, it's steve). when i arrived there, matt informed that the plan had changed and that we were going bowling instead. that night is somewhat foggy, but i do remember it being somewhat strange. i had crashed a stranger's birthday party. i also remember not being particularly fond of the birthday boy nor his best friend. and as i sometimes have a tendency to do, i stuck with my first impression, basically avoiding interactions with steve and his bff when i could.

the part that doesn't involve steve

i had spent the summer in california. as i prepared to return home, i couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something big coming my way. before i left california one of my friends told me that she felt like God had something new....new life...new fruit just ahead for me. i ended up getting a full time job that i was really excited about and was surprised when the feeling didn't go away. i had put my online dating adventures on hold for the summer and decided to start back up again a couple of months after my return. as usual, i had a few one time dates that turned into nothing typically followed by a small crush on some random boy at church. when november began, i was in deep in conversation with an online boy. conversation turned into good date. good date turned into great second date. great second date turned into big disaster. i laid in bed after big disaster, crying, and literally talking out loud to God. why can't i just meet someone from the same church, with the same core beliefs. that just wants to love on children who may not even be our own. who will love me exactly as i am, but never let me live in complacency. i think i'm done. i'm just done.

i was not only done looking for the various desired characteristics in a man. i was done looking for the sheer basics. and really, i was just done looking.

and then one week later...

the lie you've all been waiting for

2011-11-13T09:59:00.001-06:00

kids, it is never good to tell a lie. (imagine that in a ted mosby voice. okay, okay, i admit, i've been watching too much of "how i met your mother".) seriously though, lies, more often than not end in hurt, mistrust, and trouble. but today, i'm not talking about those kind of lies. i'm talking about the one lie that actually ended with one of the best things that ever happened to me.

i've mentioned this lie before: here. it was not my lie, but my friend nate's, er...uh...i mean cybertron (nate's has always wanted to have a robotic pseudo name to "protect the identity of the innocent".)

anyway back to the lie....

it was a year ago today. i was photographer extraordinaire in the kids area at our church for two services. during a lull in my photo taking, i found myself hanging out in the boardroom with several of the musicians; three of them noteworthy: alex (who was fairly distracted. he ended up proposing to his girlfriend later that evening. happy one year of your engagement alex and megan!), steve (some random guy that i never really paid attention to), and nate/cybertron (my friend who i talked to and hung out with regularly). this was just an innocent time wasting session of no significance, but it was how the evening started nonetheless.

it was the very end of the evening that is of note. i was in conversation with a church intern when random guy steve, on his way out of the building, did the awkward hand in the middle of the back rub goodbye. what made it awkward was that we were not friends; we weren't really even friendly. and when one person does the awkward touch thing when two people of the opposite sex aren't even friendly, the other's mind starts to wonder. and what does one do when the mind starts to wonder? of course, revert back to the ways of junior high and ask friends to give you the scoop. and so, i called upon nate/cybertron.

my intentions really were to find out if steve was indeed exhibiting an interest in me, and if he were, to figure out how to squelch it as i did not reciprocate. nate/cybertron answered my questions in what i believe to be an honest way: but little did i know, he was feeding steve total lies.

"she thinks you're cute." "you should ask her out." and other assorted statements that i never even alluded to saying let alone actually said.

did i think he was cute? no.
did i want him to ask me out? absolutely not.
do i now want to spend the rest of my life with him?
i couldn't imagine spending it with anyone else.

but i how i got there is whole other story. and it starts with a phone call, involves a couple of people, a walk in the park, a movie, and of all things, ends (or begins) with another phone call.

stay tuned.....

"cybertron" (hey just trying to protect the innocent)

nearly finished

2011-10-06T20:21:00.003-05:00

1 paper, 1 presentation, 1 class session, 1 week. after two plus years, it's hard to believe that i am down to my final days of my graduate program. as most students find themselves doing, i have put much of my life on hold in order to write papers, have scheduled intellectual conversations, and pretend to read way more than one can read in a matter of seven days. in anticipation of my impending freedom, i've been making a list of what i am hoping to accomplish in the next couple of months. just for fun, i'll share :)

take up regular blogging once again (yes, uncle vern dean, i'm going to try to provide you with some entertainment).
play my guitar more than once a month and work to improve
finish the dragon tattoo series and read more books of my choosing
ride my bike (i know, i know...just in time for winter)
spend more time with friends (two specifically)
get back into my workout routine
spend more time intentionally listening to jesus
cooking! and meal planning and enjoy grocery shopping again
shake the dust off of my camera and shoot again
who knows what other fun surprises may come along...

about a boy

2011-06-17T20:48:00.003-05:00

ever notice how surreal time feels? it's moving fast and slow all at once. the days feel long, but the months zoom by. for me, the last six months have been just that sort of contradiction: at times so fast that i feel i cannot keep up, but the beginning of those six months feels like forever ago. but alas, this post isn't really about time.

it's about a boy....or to be correct, a man.

as many women do, i've spent my fair share of time dreaming up what the perfect-for-me man would be like. i can even recall conversations with other women where we declared these things and then affirmed or corrected each other. my list always contained things like Jesus follower, a little less serious than i am but the ability to quickly be serious when needed, musical, enjoys sports of some sort, handy in some way, and some deeper, value specific things. Oh, and facial hair. (yes i have a thing for dark, man scruffs).

while i desired these things, i don't think i ever really believed that i would find all of these things in one man. date after date caused me to reevaluate and drop certain things off the list. pretty soon, i was struggling just to find someone that was a Jesus follower.

but God gives good gifts.

and this time, my gift was in the form of a man. i remember laying in bed one evening just a few weeks before this man appeared in my life, crying after a rather frustrating date (once again). in the midst of my tears, i asked God why i couldn't just meet someone at my church who really loved Him and that wanted to live life in a way that changed lives.

i prayed mostly certain that it was a prayer that would never be answered. boy, was i wrong. exactly one week later, after an odd touch and a lie told by a friend, a man entered my life. the touch and the lie are a story for another time. seven months have passed since that moment, six of which have been in an "official" (but not facebook official) relationship. a relationship that is proving to me over and over that God listens and He cares; that it really is about timing and authentic readiness.

so this man? i met him at church. he's not just a musician, but has quite a gift for the technical side. he's not just handy, but could do the kind of things it would require to build a room in an empty basement. he enjoys sports, although he cheers for the wrong team. he loves to cook and cuddle and will watch movies that i choose. he treats me in ways i dreamed of being treated, but never actually imagined would happen. we laugh and we cry together. we share an uncommon vision for life. a vision, by the way, that i've yet to find in any other man i've ever dated. most of all, he loves Jesus deeply and is consistently in pursuit of growth and change. it seems that i am regularly amazed at the way God has been listening to my hopes and dreams in this area over the years. it's almost like steve was custom-made just for me.

there are times when i honestly can't wait to change the world with him.

in the grand scheme of life, six months doesn't seem like all that long, but there is something about the last six months with steve that feels so right. it's like we've never not known each other. hmmm, yet another small detail seen by our Maker?

i am a mother lover

2011-05-08T11:51:00.000-05:00

my friend nate asked me last night if i am a mother lover. (yeah, he's witty like that) although it has an odd ring to it, i won't deny being a lover of mothers. in fact, there are many mothers in my life right now that i have great love and respect for. mothers that inspire me and that i aspire to be like. here are just a few of my favorites:

Katy: 6 years ago she adopted me as her sister-like friend and aunt of her six children. she has unreal amounts of patience, grace, and flexibility which are an asset when raising six kids.

Pam: talk about a mother! she has four biological, some step (i'm unsure how many), two adopted, and five foster plus all sorts of unofficially adopted people. oh, and grandchildren. i love how Pam loves very deeply, but calls out the nonsense and other unwise things in people's lives because she loves them. she isn't afraid to push people in ways that will make them grow!

Lisa: much like the two women above she welcomes almost anyone into her home, me being the recipient of this many years ago. she's raised four incredibly wonderfully boys (men now) and is taking on a whole new family of five. her house could be packed to the brim and she'd still welcome you in if you needed a place for the night. she has a wonderful sense of humor and somehow always manages to get me hooked on new tv shows.

Emily: this is one mother that i don't know very, but admire from afar. she is a single mother who has devoted her life to kids in the system. she's not much older than i am, but has fostered numerous children and of those, has adopted four. the strength it takes to be a single mother, especially to kids who come with a greater need for a sense of security and love and sometimes with special needs, blows my mind.

my own mother, Denise. from her i learned about self-sacrifice, perseverance, and inner strength.

what i did today

2011-05-06T23:32:00.000-05:00

2011-05-01T15:03:00.000-05:00

my friend, emily, has a recent post on her blog that goes very well with the quotes from my last entry.

Read it here: http://littletons.blogs.com/theboys/2011/03/poser.html

the art of everything

2011-04-30T14:09:00.000-05:00

i'm taking my "for fun" class (for my master's program) this term. it's called "artists are alive and well", but it should be called "art appreciation for dummies (or those who have never had memorable basic instruction in art)". i consider myself a creative, but did not have those memorable moments of art instruction (sorry, mr. collingham) so i feel like i am learning quite a bit in this class. i have moved from looking at a piece of art and saying, "it's pretty" or "i'm really drawn to it" to actually explaining, using basic art principles, why it's pretty or grips at a certain emotion. but i digress....

as we went further into the class, i found myself thinking more and more about Jesus and about the city. it all started with an article by roger rosenblatt centered on 'what is art.' while mr. rosenblatt was really talking about art and artists, i couldn't help but think about the way of Jesus. read these quotes first, and then i'll explain:

"the art of everything is to make one see what is present and real rather than what one wishes to be monumental and ideal."

"it is not simply a matter of catching the small stuff. it's about being alert to the non-ideal, the imperfect, the accidental gesture, the distracted gaze, to the pose that is not a pose. to be alert to the emotion of the continuum, rather than to search out a single lofty moment-one needs to look in the wrong direction to find the right direction."

"again and again to remind the artist to look for the eternal in the evanescence and not to wish life be better than it is because it's better as it is."

these quotes (and the article) are very much about not setting up a moment, but rather catching a moment. to catch a moment in process we often have to look in the places that are the least likely or that may feel wrong.

ten years ago at the end of this month, i was exposed to the city. not just the city, but the most visibly broken, struggling, rough parts of it. this is when i met the real Jesus (as opposed to the Jesus in my head). see, Jesus was very much in tune with the non-ideal and the imperfect. He went the "wrong direction" and in doing so, led people the right direction. He still does so today by leading people to humbly and faithfully cross cultural and economic barriers in order to build lasting relationships that change lives. my dealings with the city have taught me about community (as it takes a village not just to raise a child but to live life), authentic relationships (my life became much less stressful when i realized the value of practicing authenticity with all people), and most definitely humility (when i first came, i thought i would be helping people, but really they have helped me, or rather changed my life). i have learned to stop trying to create my moments and see my moments as they are happening. i never imagined that i would sit on the porch of an 88 year old african american and have him say to me that he never imagined he would sit and the hold the hand of a young white woman. i never thought i would get to walk alongside families who not only foster children, but try to connect with the birth family in a way that might bring them to know Jesus. it never occurred to me that i would get to be a part of what Jesus is doing in my city and even briefly in a city on the west coast. but here i am. just like mr. rosenblatt says, i'm learning to pay attention for the accidental, the forgotten, the thrown away. it's the "art of everything."

just as that third quote says life, even in the hard moments, is better as it is.

the whole dang thing

2011-04-25T11:17:00.000-05:00

on april 10th, my roommate was proposed to by a seemingly wonderful man, ben. i am not known to do this on my blog, but today, i'm going to promote his blog.

ben has a strong love of scripture (as does andrea) and is taking it to new levels. he is manuscripting the entire Bible from front to back. for those of you that are unfamiliar with the term manuscript or inductive Bible study, it is a way of studying scripture that strips back a lot of what the world says about the Bible and just uses the Bible and your brain (and a few resources) to see what is being said. the passage is printed on paper that often gets marked up as the reader makes observations and poses questions. here is an example.

as you can imagine, this inductive study of the Bible is quite a process. ben is hoping to finish in four years (if i remember what he told me correctly) doing at least 4 chapters a week. the coolest part of this whole adventure, in my opinion, is that he is letting the world benefit from it as well. he is blogging about each and every chapter; hence the reason for my promotion of this blog. ben has some great insight, allows the Lord to speak to him through his studies, and then writes about it in a way that often infuses pop culture and daily life with that from the days of the old testament, not at all an easy feat. his writings are relevant, funny, and challenging. each time i read them, i not only learn something new, but find myself contemplating the concepts throughout the day.

so, check it out.....the whole dang thing

2011-03-25T17:02:00.004-05:00

i've been trying to figure out how to write about this for days now; twenty-three to be exact. but for once i am truly struggling. i don't really know what will come out as i write this one, (and it will probably not be a well written piece) but i just need to let it flow. i'm one of those people that tends to hold onto hope, but there may be a fine line between hope and naivete or even hope and pure denial. i got to visit my grandpa in the hospital on february 12th. he had been there (unexpectedly) for several weeks. when i left that room, i honestly believed that he would get better. i knew it would be a long road of recovery, but i really thought i would see him again. hope or denial?

grandpa passed away a week and a half later, and i found myself at my first funeral. i know, almost thirty and never been to funeral? i sat in the pew with my sisters and watched as person after person hugged my grandma. it quickly became clear that grandpa was a well-liked man as the room was packed. we had been hearing stories of some of these people for years. a handful of them read my blog and have followed my past adventures. in some ways, we felt like we knew each other, but we had never actually met. by the time i left for home, i had a deep admiration for my grandparents' friends.

it's been almost a month since his death and i'm finding it interesting the things we remember about him; my sister keeps talking about the clicking of his dentures when he chews his gum. i sometimes hear his voice, "well, ya know amanda...". and that darn pink frosting; at its mention during the funeral, i could no longer hold back my tears.

i don't know what else to say. it's not profound. it's far from funny. but it is therapeutic. and that's about all i can ask for right now.

revisiting an old post

2011-02-02T15:10:00.003-06:00

i'm perched at a table by the big picture window, watching the big fluffy flakes swirling against the backdrop of brick buildings and moving cars. the focus of today was supposed to be grad school work. while i've been mildly successful, i've had to fight through the wanderings of my own mind. today, my thoughts are in two places.

last year, i attempted to write about 50 people who had left imprints on my soul. while there are definitely 50 people, i only wrote about half of them. as of today, one of them has been in the icu for three and a half weeks. i try not to think about it because it breaks my heart. i can't stand the thought of not having him in my life, despite the pink frosting he puts on my birthday cakes and the fact that he always firmly believes that mizzou will beat nebraska. i pray constantly that god will heal him, but he has a very long ways to go. just for fun, here's what i wrote about him in my footprints on the soul series:

i call him grandpa

we share not one drop of the same blood, yet he calls me his. when i was little girl, he'd make the process of washing my hair memorable and remind me to be a "good egg". now, he only reminds me to wear a life jacket.

he's an interesting fellow; confident but not showy in his uniqueness. once a successful business man; now retired, but retirement has not slowed him down. he has a great house on a big lake where he fishes from the dock and from the boat. every once in a while, he can be spotted cruising down the channel on a jet ski. he's put in over a thousand hours at the local fish hatchery which has involved days of untangling little kids' fishing poles.

he does things you would never expect, like collecting marbles. i can't even tell you how many he has, but he knows the story of each one; each artist. this knowledge almost makes the marble come alive; like looking at a glass painting. he took up quilting not too many years ago and likes to finish the unfinished he comes across. i'm convinced he can fix almost anything. if he doesn't have the right tool, he does research and figures out how to get or make the tool to fit the project.

he's traveled the world; china, the amazon, alaska, the middle east, europe, australia, northeast iowa, adding diversity to his stockpile of wisdom.

what i love about him? the fact that he makes my birthday cake every year intentionally with the wrong kind of frosting because its funny; that he'll shoot squirrels and geese and snakes for trespassing, yet he intentionally builds things to welcome hummingbirds and bluejays; that he's known for cheating while playing cards, although i don't think i've ever actually seen him cheat; that he never tires of my questions.

we share not one drop of the same blood, yet he calls me his. and me? i call him grandpa.

named

2011-01-28T19:57:00.003-06:00

it isn't ironic. it's not even coincidental or fate or by chance. in the old testament, names were given based on personalities or characteristics of the individual. in many cases, God actually renamed people to fit who He had intended for them to be instead of the person the world defined them as. jacob became israel because he wrestled with God; abram, abraham as he would one day be the father of many. God told the newly renamed abraham to name his son, isaac because he was about to bring much laughter to the older, barren couple. later God renames saul to be paul.

my name is amanda, and god named me. my parents had been expecting a boy. they were so caught off guard by my femaleness that their lack of choosing a name caused a delay in my release from the hospital. out of desperation my parents agreed to pray as they parted ways one day. they reunited at the end of the day, each carrying a slip of paper. i like to imagine my dad walking down the hospital hallways with sweaty palms and a nervous heart, wondering if what he carried in his hand would match anything my mom had heard from God. when at last their papers exchanged hands, i picture shock and awe and gratefulness as they read "amanda" written by the hands of their beloved. just like God told abraham to name his son isaac, He told ron and denise to name their daughter amanda.

now, as a twenty-nine-year-old woman, i am finally understanding the depth of just why God chose that name for me. i have spent most of my life feeling broken down, tired, sometimes ugly, and often unloved (although many people have loved me very well). God knew that this would be a lifelong battle for me; that there would be days of extreme loneliness even in the midst of people; that i would be my worst enemy in finding a fulfilling kind of love; that even when i felt loved, i would be uncomfortable. He knew that there would be a need for a daily reminder, a sort of stamp on my soul. God gave me something i could never get rid of, even in spite of myself. He branded me with a meaning, a characteristic that the world could never reshape no matter the circumstances. God named me amanda, "worthy of love". in that, there is no irony.

the words of a 10 year old

2010-10-14T20:49:00.003-05:00

i had a pretty rough day today. the kind of rough that leaves you in tears for a couple of hours when you finally get home and let your hair down. the truth is, there are parts of my life that have been hard for a while now. as i last wrote, there are days when i struggle to find words; a tension that spills over into my relationship with God. today as i cried, i wrestled with this and just as i was about to give up, my fancy phone lit up. as she sometimes does, my 10 year old friend had nabbed her mother's phone to text me. she told me about her day and asked about mine. while i may spare the details, i'm not okay with lying to children. when she heard about the generalities of my day, she said the age old christian cliche 'i will pray for you'. but nothing about her words fit "cliche" as the next thing she said was 'dear god, i pray for..." after the 'amen', she said she loved me. it's a profound moment that i will probably never quite be able to grasp. in the very second that my internal pain paralyzed my lips, my 10 year old friend stood in the gap.

when i can't speak, i sing

2010-09-25T22:52:00.003-05:00

sometimes i go through phases where there is so much going on, that i can't find the words to write. my blog silence started as busyness while in the midst of papers for grad school, work, and prep for oakland. now, i just can't find the words. my soul spends days both aching and rejoicing which makes verbal expression quite difficult. when i can't speak, i sing. like any artist or a spiritual person, there is an indescribable something that happens when i connect to the part of my soul that unleashes the music. i have both art and god, and this is what i have been singing lately:

violet eyes, white cloud skies
she was plainly ordinary
no silver wings, no big dreams
she never bothered anybody

no gamble, no risk
no clenching fist
when you close your eyes
it won't help you forget

one day more or less
one more longing envy
for greener grass
anything to please
fill this hole in me

wounded soul
with no home to go to
but really nothing so unusual
she learns to deal
and maybe not to feel
and leaves the light on
while she's sleeping

no gamble, no risk
no clenching fist
when you close your eyes
it won't help you forget

one day more or less
one more longing envy
for greener grass
anything to please
fill this hole in me

is there more than breathing
or motionless hoping for
kindred ties, orphan lies
easier to run than reconcile
mountains high, cursed nights
when you run, you drag it all behind

no gamble, no risk
no clenching fist
when you close your eyes
it won't help you forget

one day more or less
one more longing envy
for greener grass
anything to please
fill this hole in me

--sandra mccracken

2010-01-15T11:21:00.002-06:00

big and unexpected. those were the words i used in my prayer just days after i realized that i didn't pray with real belief and expectancy. there has been a restless feeling in the pit of my stomach for months now; like something great is around the corner or just out of my reach. so i prayed, literally for something big and unexpected, and made a firm decision to believe god was going to make it happen.

two weeks later i found myself saying "are you serious?" to the face of a man who was very unexpectedly inviting me into something bigger than i could have imagined. in the moment, i didn't recognize it as god's answering that prayer. perhaps i don't dream big enough for myself so i'm easily caught off guard.

this man was serious and just seven days later, i found myself committing to the big and unexpected; to moving westward for a season; to stepping into something i never viewed myself as having the ability to do. there are a lot of lessons i could pull from this; there are a lot of lessons i'm going to pull from this before this whole thing is over, but the one thing i do know is that praying with great confidence in my god is something i will continue to do.

and i'll try not to be so surprised when he answers in the truly unexpected ways.

for those of you who are dying to hear the specifics:
i'm going to be spending the summer in oakland, california, directing intervarsity's bay area urban project. those of you that have been "traveling" with me over the years would be familiar with citylights in st. louis and the chicago urban project, both of which i was a part of as a college student. bayup (bay area urban project) is the same. while each project has it's own specific vision and structure, all projects have the same underlying mission: for students to be exposed to/wrestle with, have a rich understand of, and cultivate a desire to live out the biblical view of justice--for the urban poor, the orphan, the immigrant, the refugee--, reconciling races and nations, all the while seeing the gospel interwoven into the bigger picture.

what does this look like practically? most projects include an element of study, both of scripture and experienced authors. students live in community with each other and the neighborhood in which they are placed (most often an inner city). the largest component is similar to an internship where students spend each day or portion of with some sort of non-profit/church/organization that is doing work among the neighborhoods in which they live. in st. louis, students are sent to places such as a summer tutoring program, a spanish speaking medical clinic, and among burundian refugees. in all cases, the idea behind this is that the students will dive into these sub-communities and find that is is through relationship that the gospel can begin to breed justice.

what will i be doing? because every project is structured differently, and because i'm just stepping into what is normally a year round position for only a summer, i don't fully know yet. it will involve some pastoral care for students and staff, some administration/logistics of the day to day stuff that comes up, maintaining networks and checking in with placement sites for students, a couple of talks, and really helping students and staff put the various pieces of what they are learning together.

how can you be praying?
1. for my upcoming trip to mexico city (jan. 27-31) to join other urban project directors and global project directors for the annual training.
2. for a leadership team to come together.
3. for preparation--josh (the former bayup director and now national coordinator for urban projects) will be doing a lot of the initial planning and passing things off to me.
4. for the ability to learn and retain quickly. this particular project has a structure that i've not been a part of before. oakland is a new city. all of the agencies, partners, networks will be very new to me.
5. for the students and staff that will be calling bayup home for the summer.

my one year anniversary

2010-01-03T23:33:00.002-06:00

it's often the things and people that i judge the harshest that end up most radically changing my life; a book that i'll never read, a place i'll never go, even a person i'll never be friends with. god finds ways of changing my heart toward the "judged", then allowing the "judged" to trample all over my life, ruining it (for the better).

it was a year ago today that i walked into just such a place. i had begun the search for a new church to call home, and was certain (in my self-righteous heart) that the building i walked into on january 3, 2009 would not be the place for me. but because i was invited by someone i trusted, i entered anyway. the first words spoken from the stage (by the worship leader), put a hole in the wall of things i believed to be true about this church. each time i came back with a "yeah god, but what about________?", another hole was punched into my wall until eventually it could no longer stand. it was then that my heart heard the invitation to call the building "home", the "herd" "family", and delve with honesty into an authentic community with an open mind about where i might be pushed.

authentic community is the first thing i found. from a pastor that actually wanted to know me by name and story when there are thousands in the church to the two ladies who decided that i was worth it to complete the triangle of friendship to the lady who recently took a gamble and is investing some time in guiding me through life to the incredibly unexpected and transparent friendship formed with another in the last eight weeks; there is really nothing i feel that i could tell these people that would make them stop going deeper with me. for the first time in my life, i never feel the need to wear a mask at any moment. authenticity lends itself well to growth, for when people can see the real you, they will call out your stuff and push you to become even more like christ. and i've definitely done my fair share of growing this year.

the theme of this year has really been one of discovering my "true self". when god invited me into this new church, he greeted me at the door with just the right people to continue the unveiling process. it started with the simple act of commenting on a man's blog and then accidentally meeting his parents and finally him. his kind and simple words made me squirm and then wrestle, and then one day it all released from my head to become a part of how i lived. this same man, in his natural pastoral way, gave me one of the greatest christmas gifts ever when he pointed out change that he had seen in me over my year at this new church. what he didn't know as he spoke, what no one knows, is that i had first asked god for that part of me to change ten years ago; prayers fulfilled in unexpected ways years after the hope of fulfillment subsided.

then there came this woman who, in her quiet beauty, found a way to encourage the insecure artist in me. whether she really believes that my art is good enough doesn't matter because in her choosing to validate my show design (co-design), my photos, my poetry, she opened a door that allows me to write freely, to sing with abandon, and have confidence in what comes when i choose to create.

i lack the eloquence to paint just what i'm really feeling in this moment, just one year after i was certain that this would not be a place for me. i'm humbled that god chose to bring me into such a great place where i'm free to fail and to succeed and to love and to create and to cry and to boisterously laugh. the gratitude i have for the people who have chosen to walk with me in this community replaces words with tears. god is overwhelmingly good, perfectly sovereign, and answers prayers that sometimes don't even get spoken.

(to julie, adrianne, monty, tim b., viv, jamie, ced, lauri, nancy and bill, and to the leadership and community that graciously opens their arms to all becoming the hands and feet of jesus in the moments that often seem so insignificant. moments that are most significant in the kingdom.)

snow covered and pulling a heavy wagon

2009-12-08T09:56:00.004-06:00

this is a photograph. a photograph that i snapped one thanksgiving when the snow, a rarity in my city, showed it's face at my parents' house. this photograph was chosen for a 2010 calendar that circulates locally, and most recently, it was chosen as part of a little art show too. it was truly a picture that i took in a quick moment as my mom was yelling through the kitchen for me to shut the door, and my bare feet refused to step out into the snow. i didn't realize in that rushed minute, i captured something much deeper.

the red wagon is a child's toy. little boys fill them with dirt. little girls fill them with dolls. parents fill them with their children in an attempt to avoid carrying their sleeping bodies ten blocks home after late night fireworks.

this particular red wagon never got to be a child's toy. it didn't hold dirt or dolls or sleeping children. instead, it held gallons of milk, boxes of cereal, and other meal supplies as the nine-year-old hands gripped the handle and tugged it up the hill toward home. the wagon never got to be a child's toy, in truth, because the nine-year-old had to stop being a child.

the red wagon, rust-covered and missing a wheel, sits semi-forgotten in the corner of the porch. it has become a symbol of sadness, and this photo a bittersweet reminder of a life once lived. despite it's blemishes, someone deemed the wagon good enough to hold overflowing pots of fire red mums. someone decided that it was worthy enough to be placed next to the orange roundness of new pumpkins. someone decided that it still had life and was worthy of beauty.

nineteen years later, the once nine-year-old has realized that she is not much different than the wagon, full of rust and missing parts. nineteen years later, the once nine-year-old has realized that even though she isn't deserving, she has been offered a grace that covers the rust in a new layer of beautiful red paint. she realizes that there is a power in the death of one man, and that in that death, she was given an incredibly beautiful life. a life worthy of fire red mums and perfectly shaped pumpkins.

when i took this picture, it didn't occur to me that there was no logical reason that the mums should still be fire red beneath the snow. there was no great explanation for why the pumpkins had yet to rot in the winter air. both retained their color, their life despite the frigid temperatures and precipitation that beat down upon them.

there is this really cool thing about following jesus called life that comes through walking in the gospel of grace. it's a life that can survive the pounding snow and ice. it's a life that manifests itself in the beauty of smiles and kind eyes. a life that prevails when death is present.

nineteen years later, the once nine-year-old is realizing that this life has made her beautiful. she's seeing that without this man named jesus she may not have survived being a nine-year-old. she's understanding that being a nine-year-old with a wagon not used as a toy has paved a life of truly relating, to knowing the souls, of those less known. nineteen years later, the once nine-year-old only hopes that this life given to her brings life to others in moments when they are covered in snow and pulling a heavy wagon up the hill.

nineteen years later, the once nine-year-old wouldn't trade one moment for another.

"for it is by grace you have been saved, through faith-and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of god-not by works, so that no one can boast. for we are god's handiwork, created in christ jesus to do good works, which god prepared in advance for us to do." ephesians 2: 8-10

tucking the covers around the broken-hearted children

2009-12-03T19:00:00.006-06:00

a mother is supposed to be a safe place. her arms are supposed to be protective; nuturing. her voice and words soothing in times filled with fear; her presence bringing confidence in times of doubt. every mother fails at some point, at multiple points even, but there is the mother that chooses not to feed or clothe her child. the mother whose hand becomes something that makes a child flinch. the mother whose words are the cause of fear and doubt. becoming a mother is one of the things i most look forward to in this life. honestly, it is the restoration, the redeeming, of the concept of mother to the neglected "little ones" that makes my heart beat wildly.

as i approach the day that officially makes me a year older, i find myself in the midst of a lot of contemplation of life; where i've been; where i thought i would be; where i might be headed. year after year i ask "when, lord?" the answer is often silence to be followed or surrounded by instances the prove he's not saying "no", but rather "not yet."

about a month ago i started asking the question again, and the silence prevailed. initially discouragement began to find it's way into my heart, but then i made an unexpected new friend. i don't know all of his stories, but i know enough to know that he probably quite desperately needed the concept of mother redeemed as a child. his stories are not mine to tell, but i can say that i stand amazed at what he has come through and how it is evident that god was protecting him in every moment, even when the adults in his life were not. every now and then he tells a little story from his past, usually to make a point about the power of the gospel in our lives. the stories are often short, but in the few minutes it takes to tell them, i feel the urgent need to be a source of hope and love.

i love to sing; especially when i am alone and can sing from that place deep within that holds secret desires and tears and words yet to come. in the brief moments my sister graciously lets me have with my nephew before his bedtime, he often asks me to sing to him. there's something about singing a lullaby to a child that feels protective, soothing, loving, hopeful.

last week, i spent a five hour car ride listening to the same album over and over. it was an album new to me, and immediately i was drawn in by a desire to know the words and the melodies. last night, after hearing another of my new friend's childhood stories, i was sorting through the mixture of sadness, marvel at god's goodness and grace, and a little frustration when one of the songs from this album came over my speakers.

the artist is singing from the perspective of god to us (i think), but it really feels like something a mother might sing to a young child as she tenderly tucks the quilt under the child's chin. i'm pretty certain that my new friend, much like the kids i will one day bring into my home, did not have a mother that sang this kind of life and hope over him. yet somehow he became a man truly seeking to be like jesus. what we forget, what i forget, is that god is really the one singing life over these children. god sang life over my new friend as a child, even though my new friend didn't hear, couldn't hear.

he's singing over the child right now that is being neglected by the mother in his life; as she is being lost in a system defined by numbers; as he is trading bicycles for jackets and eating food off the ground out of fear it will be his only nourishment for the day. i am honored that god has seen me fit enough to place the desire in my heart to bring life back to these children. someday i will get to sing his song over them too, as i tuck the covers around the broken-hearted little one.

here's the song on youtube. ignore the video. just listen to the words.
jj heller. keep you safe.

so i didn't do it in fifty days....

2009-11-24T09:49:00.001-06:00

but i'm not a complete failure. here's the next installment of "fifty people." more to come soon!

it only took six (20-25)

2009-11-24T09:46:00.001-06:00

he called me "fish product." it was one of the worst nicknames i've ever had, but as a lowly freshman (in college), i felt i had to take it from the senior. in the end, it didn't really matter because he left a mark so great on me, i probably would have let him call me whatever he wanted to.

nick had this way about him that caused people to willingly join the efforts of whatever "crazy" plan he was concocting. call it charisma, but really it was just nick loving people well. i didn’t realize how important this was until i was loved well by him.

the truth is that he really represents a whole group of people that made god’s love very personal for me.

trish was co-captain of the track team and accidentally became my friend while welcoming my next door neighbor (anna) to the track team. she was ornery. actually they all were. but she was the one we most loved to play tricks on. trish was also quick to hug, quick to say “bosa”, and quick to sit with you when you needed a friend. i never imagined that almost nine years later, god would have taken each of us on a separate, but simliar journey and landed us five miles from each other.

bucky, whose real name is dorice, was another track co-captain that i met through anna. she, along with the basketball player, steph, laughed a lot. bucky easily empathized with others; steph used her sarcasm and humor to get people through the rough spots.

and, of course, there was mark and jen. mark actually graduated and headed off to hawaii a few months before i arrived on campus. i got to know him mostly through stories, brief minutes on the phone, and co-conspiriting a surprise visit for jen’s graduation. mark was just kind of crazy. big ideas, big gestures, big voice. jen was the smile, the funny you sometimes just needed to see. except, of course, when she and nick were having a disagreement.

it’s been almost ten years since i met these six crazy people. everyday, every corner turned, was a new adventure with them. and with every adventure, a little more of jesus embedded itself in my soul. an embedding that became the foundation on which the rest of my life would be built.

interlude

2009-06-24T12:05:00.004-05:00

a note to my readers: i know i'm a little behind. i started grad school three weeks ago and have been spending all of my writing time on two longer papers for my class. i have been making notes as i think of them and promise to catch up soon!

Queen Helga (19)

2009-06-20T13:10:00.000-05:00

i've not had many nicknames in my life, but during my first year of college i had two very random ones that stuck despite my protests. one of these came very late one night during freshman year when my friend anna slipped and called me a name that our senior friends will never ever let me forget. anna had a great laugh at my expense which became the theme of our friendship.

anna lived on junk food: mountain dew, twizzlers, doritos, yet she was pencil thin and ran track. an english major, she would write her papers at 2am on the day they were due and manage to snag an A. she was great at being friends with people and spent all of her non-class time, non-track time visiting one dorm room or another (which is why she had to write her papers at 2am). in our upperclassmen days, anna became a favorite among the younger folk, and she did a fabulous job of loving even the most awkward of them.

my memories with anna are not limited to mountain dew, twizzlers, and horrible nicknames. there was also the time when she pushed me in the snow-filled bushes and left me for dead. and the time we drove four hours to see third day. and the time we hung the "trash" sign on our friend trish's dorm room door. mischeiveousness is one of the characteristics i loved about her. the other was the fact that i had sheer fun when i was around her. and memories that include these two things are ones that last a lifetime.

random, but not coincidental (18)

2009-06-19T23:44:00.002-05:00

i'm a fairly emotional person. i understand things based on how they make me feel or how they relate to my life and experiences. because of this, i have never considered myself to have the ability to think deeply about more heady issues. i've found myself many times backing away from anything theoretical, political, theological, or that might end in a debate in which i would have no idea how to defend what i think.

my eighteenth person happens to be a relatively new person in my life; we have not known each other even a year yet. our meeting was random yet not coincidental. i know that god wanted us to be friends because four months after our random meeting, i looked across the auditorium of my new church to see his face. unbeknownst to the other, we had each decided to make it our new church home.

i remember well the first time he asked me one of those questions that i like to avoid. i thought the fear would eat me alive, but there was no way to escape answering. when he responded, he did not make me feel stupid, but affirmed my ideas although he didn't completely agree with my thoughts. he engaged me in further conversation as if what i had to say actually mattered; as if it was important in some way. he gave me new ideas to ponder and fed me ways to continue the conversation. in many ways, he taught me how to think separate from my emotions.

i wonder how sometimes it only takes one tiny moment to overcome a lifetime of built up fear and insecurity. how something so great can be destroyed in mere seconds or minutes or hours. many times i think it involves another pushing you over the edge or doing something that causes a change so subtle or so fast that you have no chance to protest. this is what happened within me. unknowingly, russ had reached in and brought forth a new confidence for me before i could retreat.

a couple of days ago i found myself in a passionate conversation over a debatable topic and enjoying it; russ's greatest contribution to my life, but we're only ten months in to being friends. in many ways, he feels like the older brother i always wanted to have, and i'm certain there's more learning to be had; thinking to be done.

beyond the requirements--mister lister (number seventeen)

2009-06-18T23:43:00.006-05:00

the situation of my life as a younger person often required the aid of other people for certain things. the seventeenth person i write about is one of those people that stepped into my life, unsuspectingly leaving his mark upon me. i was a student in a program he directed. he was required to choose to like me enough to care about how i was doing in school, with college applications, study skills, and the like. he was not, however, required to accompany me on a weekend trip to compete for college scholarships as a high school senior, sit with me while i cried over my first B in a college class, invite me to his wedding, or help me with my grad school loans ten years after his required period of knowing me was over. but he did all of these things, leaving the word "requirement" out of all of his actions. he became one of my biggest supporters and eventually (when it was appropriate) became the kind of friend that i could have inside jokes with. (if you are reading this, i'm monkey waving at you right now)

he's one of those people that life's journeys caused to go a separate direction, only to communicate every once in a while. sometimes i can still hear his voice quite vividly reminding me that school wasn't about the A and that life isn't about perfection. his words return to me in just the right moments like when one accounting mistake messed up an entire financial report at work or when i wrote my first paper as a grad student. in these moments i find his words over rule my fear and my desire to hide my face.

he was a teacher by training. my presence never graced his classroom, but in many ways i still feel like his student. when i think about returning to the field; about guiding young minds through the world of science, there's something in me that desires to be like him: energetic, fun, wise, and going beyond the requirements.

i call him grandpa (the sixteenth)

2009-06-17T23:40:00.002-05:00

we share not one drop of the same blood, yet he calls me his. when i was little girl, he'd make the process of washing my hair memorable and remind me to be a "good egg". now, he only reminds me to wear a life jacket.

he's an interesting fellow; confident but not showy in his uniqueness. once a successful business man; now retired, but retirement has not slowed him down. he has a great house on a big lake where he fishes from the dock and from the boat. every once in a while, he can be spotted cruising down the channel on a jet ski. he's put in over a thousand hours at the local fish hatchery which has involved days of untangling little kids' fishing poles.

he does things you would never expect, like collecting marbles. i can't even tell you how many he has, but he knows the story of each one; each artist. this knowledge almost makes the marble come alive; like looking at a glass painting. he took up quilting not too many years ago and likes to finish the unfinished he comes across. i'm convinced he can fix almost anything. if he doesn't have the right tool, he does research and figures out how to get or make the tool to fit the project.

he's traveled the world; china, the amazon, alaska, the middle east, europe, australia, northeast iowa, adding diversity to his stockpile of wisdom.

what i love about him? the fact that he makes my birthday cake every year intentionally with the wrong kind of frosting because its funny; that he'll shoot squirrels and geese and snakes for tresspassing, yet he intentionally builds things to welcome hummingbirds and bluejays; that he's known for cheating while playing cards, although i don't think i've ever actually seen him cheat; that he never tires of my questions.

we share not one drop of the same blood, yet he calls me his. and me? i call him grandpa.

memories - the fifteenth

2009-06-16T16:47:00.002-05:00

i remember when he used to pick up hitchhikers as we were driving down the highway. his heart too compassionate, too generous to just drive on by. i remember ice cream on warm days and overnight fishing trips. his way of bonding. i remember my little hands trying to help with "handy man" type projects and then my grown up hands using what i had learned. his way of passing on something at which he was good.

i remember sitting in the same room and splitting an entire watermelon between the two of us, his portion slightly salted. i remember the day i was so excited that he was coming to watch my softball practice and the disappointment that followed when a grounder busted up my face while he was watching. i remember jean claude van dam movies and hours of learning to play penny poker, of course with his money. i remember (illegal) afternoon drives in the country, before i could even reach the pedals.

i could continue with the things that i remember as we have spent countless hours together, and to detail just how he's affected my life is difficult. he's compassionate yet brave. he's ornery yet wise. he's peaceful yet somehow he managed to fight for our nation. he's a hero, unsung; unknown to most. but a hero nonetheless.

i hope that as i grow older, i can reek of the same compassion, generosity, and patience that i have seen come out of him. i hope that in the rough times i can cling to faith in the ways that he has. i hope for his bravery, and his ability to sit peacefully in silence with the god he loves.

happy birthday, dad.

when god overrides jealousy: the fourteenth

2009-06-15T16:09:00.001-05:00

there's yet another birthday of someone on my list today (maybe i'm drawn to people born in june), but these birthdays and occasions make it easier for me to chose who to write about.

this particular friend is one of the ones that i didn't like upon our first meeting. my dislike was unusual because most people couldn't help but love her and everyone wanted to be around her. in reality, it was my sinful jealousy that really kept me from liking her, but i would make up all sorts of reasons to convince myself that she couldn't be my friend. by my junior year, i found that she was actually quite a refreshing individual, but it wasn't until i found myself as her RA our last semester of college that i actually grew to love her.

sherami has continued to be a part of my life since then. every couple of months we find ourselves in a long conversation usually consisting of pain and boys. while our situations have not been the same, the feelings that they have produced in each other have been mirrors of each other. it has been comforting to have someone who understands the tears and can take to heart the life revelations as they come. she's rooted in jesus and isn't afraid to grow in the midst of struggle. in many ways, i greatly admire her beauty. yes, she's a handsome person, but it's her inside beauty that makes her outwardly glow. i'm certain that's why people are so drawn to her.

the counselor. number thirteen.

2009-06-14T15:26:00.001-05:00

i'm convinced that everyone needs a counselor in their life at some point, but i didn't always believe this. during my high school days, i got to be part of this cool title nine program called upward bound which really has a lot to do with college readiness. there was an employee of the program whose title was "counselor", and when they plopped me in her office as a freshman, i refused to speak as i was sure she was just going to try to figure out all the junk in my soul. in truth she just wanted to help guide my teenage self in decision making processes and if the emotional came along, she was trained to do that too.

the good thing about michelle is that she refused to let my stubbornness affect the way she treated me, and because of that, our relationship has gone from that of a professional nature to one of friendship as i have become an adult. by mid-high school, i stopped looking at her as the enemy although i still didn't share with her, and started to listen to what she had to say. just when my heart had begun to change toward her, she announced she was leaving. but she never really left my life because she ended up working on the very college campus that chose to move to just one year later.

i didn't have daily interactions with her, but it was comforting to know that someone who knew me pre-college was just a building away. despite michelle being a counselor, i came to appreciate her insight and advice on the situation at hand. she never pushed me to talk yet embraced what i had to say. i really felt like her friend, and it's a friendship that i'm grateful for.

eleven and twelve

2009-06-13T12:27:00.006-05:00

this year of all of my working years, i found myself incredibly blessed by the two bosses that god put into my working life. both share similar qualities at the core of which is their deep care for the person rather than the job.

tom is a visionary leader with a natural ability for carrying out the details, a very uncommon combination. there is something about him that exudes a humble greatness, and you can't help but wonder if you are standing in the presence of someone that is going to make drastic changes on this earth. he and his wife already did so in mongolia (click here to read more), and he's doing it again among college students in the midwest (more on this). god is using him to renew a dying region, and it's an incredibly powerful thing to watch. tom leads by example and with great regard for those under his leadership. often i conversation the first thing he wants to know is how the other person is doing. many of our conversations preceeding work have revolved around the personal going-ons of my life. tom has become one of those people that i look forward to seeking wisdom from as he has the ability to look at all sides of the issue. he is someone that i would follow in a heartbeat.

ironically, i'm leaving him....

john is very similar to tom in that he is very pastoral. although, he should be as he is a pastor by training. (can you really be trained to be a pastor?) john impresses me because he is so multigifted. one minute you find him meeting with donors and potential parents (of the school of which he is a principal) and the next he's installing the new basketball hoop or painting the new classroom. i love the way he is with children. he's patient and slow to anger, yet firm enough to be shown respect. he gets the gospel (believe it or not, not all pastors do), and he exudes grace. he encourages creativity among both teachers and students, and has had a great hand in facilitating a unique learning and working community.

ironically, i'm leaving him too...

tanya makes ten

2009-06-12T11:39:00.001-05:00

i've written about tanya before, but usually it is full of jokes. while she is a fun and light-hearted person to be around, she deserves more than sarcasm this time around. tanya and i met eight yeas ago during an intense summer experience in an urban environment. for various reasons we didn't really like each other, but we survived the summer and went our separate ways.

three years later, we moved back to the city at about the same time, and the lack of knowing people forced us to spend time together. for some reason we liked each other this time, and a year of hanging out turned into two years as roommates.

as much as we liked each other, we really weren't great roommates. tanya was (is) a very laid back, go with the flow, last minute, whatever floats your boat kind of person. i, on the other hand, was fairly uptight, scheduled, planned, need to know everything that's going on kind of person. in a living situation those two extremes don't mix well without some compromising, and we were both still a little immature in that area.

unfortunately i didn't see the effects of our relationship until we decided to part ways, but in hindsight i see that living with her was the first step toward the freedom from myself that i'm experiencing these days. tanya was living proof to me that sometimes you just have throw your schedule out the window and forget what time it is. she taught me that sometimes it's better to silence your cellphone and pay attention to the one who is sitting beside you. she challenged the core of my personality just by being herself. i hated it, and i allowed it to create unnecessary conflict. thus began the unavoidable change. because of tanya, i started to let go, and because of the letting go, i'm a new person. i still like a schedule, but it's okay if 5 minutes late. i still need consistancy, but it's not a big deal if a pot gets put in the wrong spot.

and tanya, well, she now owns a planner. :)

california dreamin': number nine

2009-06-11T10:11:00.001-05:00

during my freshman year of college, one of the first people i became friends with was a guy named russell. several months into our friendship, two of his high school buddies (that also happened to be brothers) came to visit campus. in order to show the guys a good time, russell got a bunch of people together for some game action one evening which is where i first met jake and joel. sitting in that laughter-filled room that evening, i had no idea that my future held good friendships with these guys. over the years to follow, i came to love their musical abilities, joel's humor, and jake's advice. but this post isn't actually about them.

it's about their parents, mark and lisa. i know i've written about them before (maybe even more than once), but these are people that have really effected my life simply by being themselves. joel ended up attending my college and we became fast friends. we went on the same spring break trip which was to return to campus before the end of the break so joel invited me to spend the weekend at his parents' house. as is the case with most people outside of this family, i came to love them within a short amount of time. mark and lisa consistently throw open their arms in welcome and with love. they have been known to put on events for their massive numbers of friends. you can read more about my adventures with the rohde's here:

chillin' with the rohde's
the rohde rave

the adventures i've had with them range from backyard camping to watching the super bowl to boogie boarding off the californian coast. they have certainly created life-long memories, but these are not the biggest reasons why mark and lisa are on my list of fifty. when i think about my future, the things i value, and what i want my life to be about, i realize that mark and lisa are living it. they raised four incredible boys. when the youngest one was just old enough, they downsized their lives, packed up what was left, and moved 1, 987 miles away. most people do this to retire. mark and lisa did it in order to create a welcoming home in another state, only this time it wasn't for their kids' friends. it was for children who didn't have a home; who lacked safety and reliability. in a matter of days, mark and lisa doubled the size of their family, and it now consists of "children" age 26 to 3, seven boys and one girl, and of multiple races.

i want to be like them. i want to be able to take risks that land me in the unknown. i want to do something right when raising children. i want to create a home where more than my own family can be. i want children from a wide range of backgrounds to be a part of my family. mark and lisa are not only inspiration, but a model to follow. if i can be half as great as they are, i'll consider my life a success.

the professor: the eighth

2009-06-10T00:07:00.002-05:00

sometimes when i look back on the academic side of my college experience, i wonder what i really learned: how to complete an assignment pleasing to a professor; how to retain information just long enough to spit it back out onto a paper full of questions; how to write a lesson plan that shined on paper even though i couldn't make it work in a real classroom. really all useful things when working towards a diploma, but not so helpful in the real world.

there is one class that i remember doing this thing called learning in. it wasn't of my own accord, but because the professor made everything so intriguing, one couldn't help but absorb the information. you could argue that i was predisposed to liking the content, but it wasn't so. this professor's name was spoken all over campus by many a student, and his class was outside of my major. he made the text come alive and found ways of tapping into all learning styles that some of the education professors could have learned from. he was patient and wise and took time to meet with his students outside of the classroom. he was a natural teacher. he was well respected by both students and faculty, and his classes filled up quickly.

i had very few interactions with him outside of class as i had waited until my last semester to take it. the handful of times i was in his office, it was to discuss our group project (as a group). i don't even remember having any one-on-one meetings with him. i wasn't one of those students on the campus that stood out. i knew about 600 people, but i'm not certain that 600 people knew me. i was a pretty average (for our campus) student and was not an athlete (unlike 80% of the student body). unless you knew me well, there was really no reason for anyone to remember me. i spent one semester in this man's class. three hours a week for about sixteen weeks.

at baccalaureate, i was in between greeting friends and family, when this man found me. he congratulated me and told me he enjoyed having me in his class. then he said (and i quote), "i can say this to you because you have graduated and because i don't think you will take this the wrong way. if were twenty years younger, you'd be my girlfriend."

while some might take this in the wrong creepy way, i actually saw it as a huge compliment. this highly known, respected, gifted man saw something in me that, had he been in a completely different place in life, would have led him to pursue me. it helped me to realize that i'm really worth the wait.

ice cream and dancing: number seven

2009-06-09T20:40:00.000-05:00

the thing i liked most about chelsey is that she brought pure fun to a room; or more specifically to our room on the third floor of gaass hall. she was innocently devious, creative, and curious. she loved to eat pizza and mac n' cheese with me, and i'm pretty certain she is the only roommate i've ever had that actually enjoyed watching lifetime movies with me. chelsey was a cross country runner which she put to good use...running to the grocery store...to get ice cream...for us...to eat. there were times when my stomach would ache from laughing with her.

besides helping me to relax and have fun, she taught me practical things like wrapping presents and dancing. although the present wrapping session usually ended in her just doing it for me, and the dancing resulted in her laughing at me as i was no where near the graceful ballerina that she was.

that she really was. a graceful ballerina, a runner, an ice cream lover, and one of the best roommates ever.

a friend from the cornfields: number six

2009-06-08T17:06:00.000-05:00

a new baby was born today (of course). i'm specifically thinking of a little girl whose parents named her calla.

it's been a long time since i've talked to this man who suddenly found himself in a new role, but there was time when he was the one i talked to with as much frequency as possible. it's been said that my dad prayed him into my life as i had been pretty lonely and in need someone to call a real friend. others might say that we just drifted into each other's life, but regardless of how it came to be, it's a friendship that changed my life.

for various reasons, i spent much of high school feeling unvalued and unloved by my peers (i'm not going to argue that my feelings were totally valid, but they were my feelings nonetheless). i had joined this county-wide bible study consisting of teens from about five tiny towns. it was in this study that i met robert. he would tell you that he didn't want to be friends with some random girl from another town, and i would tell you that i thought he was cute (i was pretty boy crazy back in the day). despite his internal resistance, some kind of bond formed between us and we found ourselves together; "cruising" on friday nights, watching snl on saturday nights, star gazing and profoundly discussing life in the summers. we kept each other company at our respective school functions, and became advocates for each other's accomplishments in life. honestly, robert was my best friend.

through his friendship, i learned that i was lovable. i learned that my family was lovable. i felt validity. i found encouragement. i experienced a deep joy and a deep love. i think i can say that there is something mutually influential about our friendship as is caused robert to begin discovering just where he might be passionate; helped him to question the purpose for his immediate future.

as we got older life happened. college took us down different paths. he became a pastor, married an incredibly wonderful woman, and today, they became parents. i'm excited for this new life which hopefully means a new passion for this man.

when thank you isn't enough: persons number five

2009-06-07T15:36:00.008-05:00

sometimes influence happens indirectly; like these commercials. thinking about these fifty people combined with processing information about "good start" and "bad start" in early life development has brought me to my number five.

they've been around my whole life (and longer), and while i have been effected by spending time with them, it's the investment they made before i was even conceived that has profoundly shaped the cornerstone of who i am.

they were a young couple answering god's call to plant a church in a small city in nebraska. church planting can be difficult so they took jobs to help financially. or at least i assume that's the reason brad found himself working at valmont.

another young couple moved to the same small city for his job. eventually, ron also found himself working at valmont alongside brad. i can't pretend to know the details of how their friendship formed, but i do know that there was something about the way brad loved ron that ron found intriguing. at some point ron and his wife, denise, found friends in brad and his wife, judy. and at some point, brad and judy brought jesus into ron and denise's life.

ron and denise became part of the church plant and found themselves being discipled by their young friends. eventually, the foursome became practically inseparable. they found in each other refuge, strength, and a friendship that nothing could destroy. i've heard stories about how brad and ron would do the things that ornery guys do and would get hurt in the process. about how judy and denise would scrape pennies together so that they could split a good housekeeping and a chunky bar. sometimes if they hit a gold mine, they would tell stories over chips and salsa at the local mexican joint.

thirty years later, a letter from one couple to the other read, "God looks down and pairs us up with soul mates, we believe, and you are ours; our spirits continue conversations whether we are in one another’s presence or not."

what a poetically beautiful statement.

i deeply admire the bond between these couples, and hope that i will have that in my life, but the effect it's had on my life goes beyond deep admiration. every once in a while, i try to imagine my life without jesus; without a savior to hope in; without grace to walk in. i can't conceive a picture because jesus has always been around, thanks to brad and judy. ron and denise: they are my parents. something about the way that brad and judy intentionally poured into them didn't just effect their lives, but made drastic changes at the core of who they each were, their life as a couple, and as parents.

there's so much more i would like to say, but the deep emotion of gratitude and love i have for this couple is impossible to express.

what do you do when thank you doesn't feel like enough.....

servant heartedness and a wedding: person number four

2009-06-06T22:05:00.002-05:00

looking back on the summer i spent with the next person on the list, i realize that he gave me a glimpse of the person i was to become. he loved jane austen and classical music and could chop an onion better than most people i know. i know this little fact about the onion because he consistently gave up what little free time he had during an intense summer program in order to help me prepare dinner for a hundred people. he quietly served people in this way--taking out the trash, picking up a middle schooler at the end of a school day, working late into the night on woodworking projects for urban elementary kids to finish the next day, waking up early on a sleep-in day to bake for friends. the list could just go on and on. i think daniel was one of the most naturally servant hearted people i have ever met.

becoming friends with daniel taught me to let go and live with the playfulness of child every now and then. he silently pushed his way into my life in ways that showed me i don't always have to be strong; that it's okay to let others do things for me; and to depend on community every now and then. when he wasn't excersizing his servanthoodedness, he could be found running around with the kids, playing games, and using his boyish charm to put grins on the faces of everyone around him.

daniel got married today to an equally as wonderful woman named kimberly. i'm certain that together they are going to unintentionally wreck people's lives by caring for them in ways they never imagined possible.

a shared day: person number three

2009-06-05T21:55:00.000-05:00

today is my half birthday. it’s a special day, not because it is my half birthday, but rather because I share it with the real birthday of one of my fifty people. i met justin practically the minute he stepped his freshman feet onto campus. i never imagined that this jolly boy would grow into the passionate man he has become. justin has more than touched my life; he’s made an imprint so deep that nothing could possibly fill it.

why? because justin is:

a bold follower of jesus. with reckless abandon, he consistently says yes when god calls him to the scariest of neighborhoods and to love the hardest of people.

a goof. justin has a way of making people laugh; sometimes at his own expense. whether he's cracking a joke intentionally or making light of the moment, his humor often puts a room at ease.

a compassionate and wise friend. when i first met him, he was a friendly guy, but as god changed his heart and his passions, he became filled with compassion. he's been given a gift to see people through the eyes of jesus in a much more natural way than most of the rest of us. through his compassion, he exercises wisdom and is often sought after for advice.

an inspirer. justin is a world changer simply through intentional relationships. what's more inspiring than that?

unspeakable change: number two of fifty

2009-06-04T22:08:00.001-05:00

sometimes it's as simple as witnessing change that occurs in a person. their growth leaves something unspeakable attached to you which remains forever. and this is how the second on my list will be remembered.

she was a crier. everyday. as if it would really get her out of running laps in my class. her tears came because "she couldn't do it" or because she didn't like the game or because she didn't understand my directions. in reality, the cause was her slight immaturity combined with low self-confidence. despite the fact that i'm also a crier, i would pat her on the back and send her on her way: running laps, playing the game, and generally doing whatever it was i had instructed the rest of the class to do. i would take time out of the game to explain rules in her terminology which often involved the use of cats or hamsters. i spent the whole first year trying to convince her that she should ask questions, use her words, rather than break down sobbing. she was the student that i was certain would never enjoy any sort of physical activity and would probably always dread coming to my class.

during the second year, something changed in her. i found that she had a glorious smile that complimented her wildly curly red hair. she ran her laps slower than most, but without tears. she participated, but still hung back at times. every now and then, she would even ask for an explanation. one day in the middle of a soccer game, i watched as the ball flew through the air aimed at her. i expected her normal action: running away, but instead was greeted with surprise as i watched her intentially meet the ball with her head, bump it with her chest, and send it reeling to the ground. later she beamed at me with confidence as she explained to me that another more adept classmate had told her doing a header doesn't actually hurt.

later in the year i met her in the hallway. i greeted her with a hello. she paused, grinned from ear to ear, and started to bob up and down as she skipped the hello to declare "i love hockey!" i don't know what changed her, but it was obvious that something had gotten to her core. my last day of school, i pulled her aside to encourage the change i had seen. before i could even get the words out, she hugged me hard and said she was going to miss me. at the end of our little conversation, she gave me her version of high five called a "migh nive" and bounced her curly head all the way back to her mother. there was something powerful in the newfound confidence of this little girl, and this time as she ran, it was my tears that fell.

the first of fifty

2009-06-03T10:54:00.000-05:00

i realize that the first of fifty life influencers was due yesterday, but it was a daunting task to pick who would be first. in no way does the order i choose to write about these people reflect an order in which i value them. that sort of order just cannot be done.

my friend jessica gets to be the first, partly because we've being playing phone tag a lot lately and partly because she has the kind of personality that would just jump and go first when asked. not that i asked, but her name did kind of jump off the paper. when i first met jessica, i was fresh out of college and in the "big city" to teach at a school in which she had already invested several years. her passion for the mission of the school and her desire to be a great teacher made her intimidating as she spoke her mind quite freely. because of my newness, i didn't see what drove jessica. in my blindness, she became one of those people that i saw in shapes and colors.

i don't really remember how that changed. it may have been the day i saw her dawn a top hat and cane to sing the winston grammar song to her students. regardless, i'm so thankful that god challenged my perspective as jessica became one of the greatest influences on several aspects of my life. perhaps the most obvious way is my appearance. superficial, i know, but important nonetheless. she brought me out of my tomboyish mismatched funky ways, and into the world of womanhood. through her i came to enjoy my clothes instead of fighting with them every morning. she gave me essential shopping skills and instilled a confidence in me that i had not known before.

beyond the clothing, jessica inspires me. she is bold and spunky; confident in a humble way; spontaneous. she's the life of the party; she stands up for what she believes in; and she'll let you know when you might be making a bad decision. her honesty is what spurs me to seek big decision advice from her. her contagious personality always sends me into fits of laughter, and somehow, when i'm around her, i can forget the everyday stresses.

jessica's been a part of my life for almost six years. there are days when i long for the states between us to disappear so that i can tell her my latest boy story over coffee or model every black pair of shoes i own to see what fits best with my new summer skirt. but until that day comes, i'll just have to put on the outfit, look at myself in the mirror, and imagine her saying, "sammy, those pleated pants have got to go."

in celebration...

2009-06-02T22:12:00.005-05:00

today is kind of a significant anniversary for me. it's not one that i've ever celebrated, as it may not be the celebrating kind. sometimes i even forget about it until it is here and almost over. for some reason, as i greeted the new summer urban project interns today, it was very prevalent in my mind. eight years ago, i was in their shoes; stepping into the city for the first time, wide eyed and a little afraid. i had no clue when i stepped out of dave's little red truck and into the circle drive of my new temporary home that my life would not just change, but would take on a whole new meaning.

today's anniversary combined with last night's post has gotten me to thinking a lot about how drastically different i am. sometimes i think about the person that rode in that little red truck eight years ago and wonder if that was really me. i'm not even sure i recognize the girl i was just a year ago.

my life change didn't just happen. i was inspired. i was encouraged. i was prayed for. i was counseled. i was invested in. i was loved. in reality, i am a product of the effects that relationships have had on me. in honor of the anniversary; in honor of the woman i have become, am becoming; in honor of the people who saw beyond my colors and shapes...

fifty days. the number of days the summer interns spend in the city; the number of days that i first spent in the city where god would wreck my life. fifty is not high enough to represent the number of people who have forever left their marks in me. but in fifty days, i'm going to bring you fifty people. fifty people that pushed me from my state of being...

may you be inspired by who they are and through that inspiration find the courage and words to express your gratitude to those who have evoked change in your life.

and if you happen to be one of the fifty...thank you...

2009-06-01T21:38:00.005-05:00

there are people in this life that no matter how hard you try, you will just never forget even if years go by without words spoken. forever etched in my memory are things like my early childhood bff. i haven't seen tami since i was seven, but i will never forget her obsession with jon bon jovi. there was a janitor at my first elementary school that called me the skunk when i would show up in my yellow sweater with the black stripes down the arms. i can still see the little round glasses that sat just below the gray hair atop his tall, thin, almost elderly body. later in life there is a girl named anna who drank mountain dew and constantly got a's on the papers she would at 1am on the day they were due or chelsey who would go for a run with her backpack on, only to stop and fill it with ice cream for us to indulge in upon her return. there's no way to erase daniel or joe, a homeless man that became our travel companion as we ventured across the state early one sunday morning. there are a few people in my life currently that, despite what the future holds, i know will hold their place in me; the guy who taught me my first guitar chords which unlocked a whole part of me that i had put away; russ who inadvertently made me get through my fear of inability to think intellectually and gave me a confidence that was never before mine; the new friend i had coffee with tonight.

i haven't known him long, but just long enough to want to know him longer. he's a quiet, rather peaceful man, but not without presence. he's an artist, a musician, a cook, an intellect, a computer geek, an outdoorsman, and an athlete all wrapped into one person.

my first contact with him was through his art. admittedly, upon first look, i didn't understand his painting. i found it beautiful and sensed the emotion, but it wasn't until our accidental/coincidental/god-ordained meeting (choose your own adventure on that one) that i saw things differently. the painting was no longer just this pretty thing with some sort of meaning behind it, but an extension of a part of a man's struggle within his soul. the figure was no longer standing; he was desparately reaching. he wasn't decorated by a ribbon, but bound by the unwanted. the emotion took shape as stubbornness and fear beginning to yield to longing and desparation. when i looked beyond the color and shapes, i found something soul stirring. like his paintings, there is a richness to this man that i never would have guessed at first glance.

as we talked over intentionally cold coffee tonight, it came to light that a lot of treasures are blown off after a quick glance at their pretty colors or well drawn lines; like heavy metal music or susan boyle.

just what i have missed out on...what life change have i passed by...what impact have i denied just because i couldn't "understand the words" or "wasn't attracted to the color" or because i simply didn't have the time to explore the depth?

i can't imagine just what i would be like nor what faces would flood my mind if i walked around looking only at shapes and color and hearing things in heavy metal-like screams. i'm grateful for the times that god has forced me to see beyond my blind contentedness and into rich depths of the treasures around me for without those moments or without those people, i would just be. and being is not enough.

but that's a story for another post...

confessions of a suicidal squirrel

2009-04-23T19:38:00.003-05:00

dear lady who hates me,

i did it. it was me. not the other guys. i just couldn't resist the juiciness of the pumpkins, and your flowers were the perfect place to bury my nuts. i will miss running on your window ledge early in the morning and making the choking noises outside your living room.

please don't forget me.
-the squirrelly one

squirrel attack!

2009-04-11T22:13:00.001-05:00

it's a known fact that i have issues with squirrels. they eat my pumpkins, dig holes in my garden, knock over the plants on my porch, and run up the sides of my house. my life would be less stressful if it were squirrel-less.

there is another type of squirrel in my life; a particular class that i teach. like the animals, the kids dart all over the place, not paying attention, and knocking things (usually each other) over. they also cause stress, but it's only over such things as: potentially loosing one in the frenzy of outdoor pe, major injuries due to their lack of listening to directions, and their lack of listening to directions resulting in my having to repeat myself about twenty times. this particular class, mostly due to their age, is also pretty clueless so i was flabbergasted when they decided to think for themselves the other day.

we were trying to play kickball with nine students in the sprinkly rain. not only was it not enough players, but these specific kids were not enjoying it. (i know, how can you NOT love kickball!) one little fella decided he would try to knock the ball out of my hands in between pitches. when another of the more athletically inclined squirrels joined in, I had a much harder time keeping the ball away from them. before i knew it, most of the class was on me...most of them trying to get the ball, but a few of them attempting to defend me. the shock of their rebellion was paralyzing as they mauled me for the ball.

eventually order overtook the chaos, and i somehow managed to keep the ball in my hands. but in the meantime, my heart grew just a little bit for the squirrels. it's taken almost the entire school year, but i think i really like them.

this event, however, has no effect on my feelings toward the animal.

not the best i've ever created, but it was still fun

2009-04-11T13:02:00.001-05:00

loving the sex offender: justin tiarks, guest blogger

2009-03-29T23:03:00.003-05:00

justin has been a fun yet serious, awkward but comfortable, sanely insane part of my life for 7 years now. he is learning to walk where jesus walked and as jesus walked, to enter into the messiest of lives, and to love scandalously. breakthrough, which he talks about below, is a ministry that provides neighborhood-based holistic services for a variety of people. justin specifically writes about the ministry to homeless men, many of them addicts. (names in this story have been changed)

Melvin is one of my favorite guests at Breakthrough. He has a huge personality and can most effectively be described as jolly. I have known Melvin since the first day I arrived at Breakthrough. We have sat and discussed the Faith many times and I count Melvin to be my brother in Christ. My roommates and I have invited Melvin to our apartment for supper and I even introduced Brigitte to him when she came for a visit last fall. Melvin and I joke around all of the time and I experience great joy in our interactions. He is my friend.

I sat with the case managers and other program assistants at lunch last week and the mood was somber. Melvin’s case manager Judy had randomly come across a shocking and wildly unexpected piece of information as she was working on-line: Melvin is a registered sex-offender. Breakthrough has a contract with DHS and, because we have a kids program, we are not allowed to serve sex-offenders. My stomach knotted up and my air left me as I realized at that lunch table that Melvin had to leave and couldn’t come back ever again.

I spent the next hour wondering what to feel. Part of me was terribly angry, part of me was deeply saddened, and part of me was so confused. I was angry because Melvin deceived us. I was angry because he sexually assaulted someone 13 years ago. I was angry that he was sexually assaulted as a child and just perpetuated this cycle of abuse onto another innocent person. And yet I was so deeply saddened, as well. My brother in Christ was homeless and living on the streets once again. There are painfully few programs willing to help registered sex offenders and Melvin was completely and utterly alone. He would be left to wander from emergency shelter to emergency shelter once again, alone in his shame and fear. The thought of this is heartbreaking. I’m left wondering how this tragic situation fits in with the idea of Jesus’ grace that I have come to know so well.

I despise sexual abuse because I know that it steals something so precious. I do not condone or excuse Melvin’s actions, even a little bit. Now that I am friends with a registered sex-offender, however, I am forced to re-examine my views on such people. As a teacher, nothing angers me like the thought of sexual abuse. In conversation, I have referred to abusers as perverts and sycophants and scum. I am realizing that I never referred to this particular branch of “least of these” as children of God. Never did I consider that Christ’s mercy is big enough to cover even this most wretched of sin. Never did I ponder that Jesus still – STILL – loves these offenders with the tenderest of heart. Is he pleased with the actions and sin? Never. Will his love and mercy ever quit pursuing? Never.

Living among the broken is not always easy. In fact, it is often quite painful and heart-wrenching. I’m starting to catch a glimpse of what Jesus must have seen and felt as he came to live among the broken when he took on flesh and became man. He spent his days surrounded by friends with deep struggles. He must have watched sadly as his tax collector friends swindled and cheated for the sake of greed as addiction to money consumed them. His heart must have broken as the prostitute fell and washed his feet with her tears and hair. Her value and dignity had been raped out of her and Jesus must have seen her emptiness and wept. Can you imagine the deep sorrow he felt for those that crucified him as they whipped him harshly with all kinds of torture devices and words? To observe the pleasure they took in inflicting pain on One that loved them so thoroughly must have crushed his heart with sadness.

Why did Jesus do it, then? If it meant pain and sorrow, why did he take on flesh and live among the broken? He did it because of his relentless, perfect love. He chose to jump into the pit of brokenness and pain and carry people out into abundant life. In the midst of this pursuit, he taught others what it meant to find joy in the love of things greater than self. How do we follow this example and live selflessly no matter what? How do we love in spite of terror? How do we forgive when life’s most precious things (security, innocence, life itself) are violently snatched from us? How do we swim against the overpowering current of judgment and demonization and love even the sycophant and the rapist?

I don’t have a good answer to these questions. I don’t know how to love everyone with the love of Jesus. My selfishness and anger and pride get in the way and I don’t end up loving very completely at all. All I know is that when I stumble and offer nothing more than a morsel of the love Jesus has offered to me, he still picks me up and nudges me to keep on hurting for the broken and helping to carry the load of the over-burdened. I also know that even when my friend Melvin is no longer able to come to Breakthrough and he no longer has any earthly place to call home, the hands and the heart of our gentle Savior will house him until at last he enters into his eternal home and is able to live free from the chains that held them all the years of their lives. Thank you Jesus for the comfort of your grace.

Brothers and sisters, it is easy to see life as black or white, right or wrong (don’t get me wrong, there are definitely rights and wrongs in this world). When Jesus calls us to see the faces of his beloved and broken people, the realization of life’s gray areas is made evident. My encouragement to you all is to love everyone individually in their unique gray areas. Not every single mother with 4 kids is a slut. Not every dad that can’t pay child support is a “dead-beat.” Not every person on the sex-offender list is a hopeless pervert. These categories don’t define a person. God’s love defines them. Don’t judge and pigeonhole but get to know people and love them how they need to be loved, as God does. Meet them in their struggles without judgment and it is there that you will find Jesus.

death of a favorite

2009-03-26T19:59:00.003-05:00

(just for the record, that's my pocket peeking out, not unmentionables)

spring in my yard (the result of hard work in the fall)

2009-03-26T18:42:00.002-05:00

2009-03-11T23:24:00.002-05:00

sometimes i feel like i'm on such a huge learning curve, yet i'm grateful that i am still teachable. i'm often amazed that god isn't more frustrated with me, and continuously thankful for the grace i don't deserve. like most people, i'm scared of what would make me uncomfortable; that is often the very place where god decides to call me. i'm not in a place to elaborate on these two statements in a way specific to my life...just yet. but i will say that i'm having a good laugh (or maybe a good cry) at the fact that i still haven't picked up on the fact that god calls me away from my comfort. after a bit of resistance i'll step into the uncomfortable, be challenged, encouraged, see a whole new side of god's character, and eventually will begin to feel like i belong in whatever situation that may be. of course at the same time there is usually this "i don't think he would ever ask me to do _______" in the back of my mind. and of course, that "i don't think...." becomes the next uncomfortable thing he's asking me to do.

the discernment and transition stage is the worst. trying to figure out if god is really saying what i think he's saying, and then actually stepping into it. everything so new it's like stepping into a foreign land when it may only be across the street...or sitting right next to you.

while i college, i was assigned to work one year in the security department. for the first several months, i was assigned a student partner. we got to wear security ball caps and roam campus in the golf cart from 8pm to midnight one night a week. we would lock all of the academic buildings and just be certain that everything appeared safe. when the iowa winter began to hit, i was moved inside due to a circulatory disease which doesn't do so well in the cold. if you know iowa winters, you would think that was a blessing, but if you knew the reputation of the head of security you would think differently. john was an infamous name on campus. he was known for being quietly gruff, although many students would have chosen different adjectives for him. he showed little mercy when it came to parking tickets and had very little tolerance for the dumb things that college kids would do. ever the rule follower, i was a bit fearful of him and what would happen if i ever accidentally broke the rules (because i would never intentionally break the rules :) ) so when the winter chill came, i found myself sitting (scared) less than five feet away from him three afternoons a week.

one day while venturing across campus to the security office, i heard this voice say "ask john how you can pray for him". what? yes, i did what every normal person would do and quickly dismissed it. as i got closer to the building where the office was housed, "ask him." no way. there is no way i am going to ask him that. i entered the office and greeted john in the usual friendly, but cool way. "ask him." i shot to my desk and began to widdle away at the stack of parking tickets from the weekend. the further i got into the stack, the more i heard the words, and the more i heard the words, the more fearful i grew. "what if he's not a christian and he jumps down my throat? how will i ever be able to come back to this office?" eventually the room started to spin and my productivity decreased drastically. i kept praying that he would get called out of the office so that i could just be comfortable. but when that didn't happen, i closed my eyes and told the voice that i would open my mouth but that's as far as i could go alone.

i slowly turned in my chair to face john. he saw this which was my cue that there was no going back. i opened my mouth, and from what seemed like someone removed from me, came tender and calm words "i was wondering if i could being praying about something for you?" my heart was pounding in my ears. i watched the expression on john's face go from the gruff security man to a very tender, broken, vulnerable human, and he proceeded to tell me about how he was once a pastor. he shared with me the intimate story of why he was no longer a pastor and continued with the fact that he was trying to discern if he should return. and he just wanted prayer to really hear from god!

it was a highly uncomfortable situation, sitting next to him everyday. this man that was rumored as mr. tough on campus when really he was just doing his job. i prayed for john that day, and i prayed for john every day after that for a month. our greetings were no longer chilly, but covered in smiles and authenticity. i began to look forward to going to work, and when my time as a security worker was over, i found myself stopping by often just to say hi. then one day, several months later, the office wasn't the venue any longer. one sunday morning, i found myself, along with a couple of friends, leading worship for a little congregation that god had brought john to pastor.

even though the process isn't always so fun, i love that god pushes us into tiny little offices to sit next to uncomfortable so that we can get even the smallest glimpse of grace and redemption and relationship and his character. pieces of him that i'm certain i would miss out on if i only lived unyielding to the call from comfort.

in a funny mood

2009-03-05T18:04:00.003-06:00

i'm feeling both lighthearted and lightheaded today. i'm not sure of the cause of either, but the following are some effects:

1. realizing two hours after putting pants on that the reason they are so uncomfortable is that they are on backwards! (in my defense...they were sweatpants)

2. allowing my students to bend the rules a little more than normal while playing floor hockey (btw - i think one of my students cracked the knuckle on her thumb today..she took it like a champ!)

3. taking time to laugh at videos like this: (i love these guys by the way...i highly recommend taking the time to watch ALL of their videos...i've been following them for about 3 years now)

blogging failure

2009-03-01T20:06:00.003-06:00

do you ever find yourself in the middle of speaking, but unable to recall just what the point was you had so eloquently planned to make? the words are there just circling through the back of your head, dipping down towards your tongue in hopes of making a connection, but you just can't seem grab them as they come along.

this seems to be happening to me a lot over the last few days. the first signs manifested during a conversation with a new friend. i was internally embarrassed as i was unsure about what impression my stuttering and inability to form coherent sentences would leave on the one sitting across the table from me. last night, it continued in conversation during a fundraiser for my school. good thing donors don't give based on my ability to process quickly enough for conversation.

earlier today, i had a blog post all established in my mind. perfectly formed sentences arranged in a manner to make a point; all lost in the cycle of my brain. somewhere between forming the piece in my mind and actually sitting down to write, it just left. no stuttering. no incoherent sentences. just gone.

i sat looking at the blank screen for about an hour in hopes that it would dip close enough to my tongue so i could snatch it up. obviously it didn't. so instead, i blog about the failure to blog. hmm.

they will renew the ruined cities

2009-02-22T22:20:00.005-06:00

in my last post when i said "more thoughts of the serious variety tomorrow", i really meant "more thoughts of the serious variety in the near future when i can slow down enough to turn the jumbled mess in my brain into understandable, organized statements on paper." that time, as it turns out, is now.

last weekend, i boarded a plane that took me from one dangerous, dying city to another in an attempt for a bit of vacation. rather ironic, i know, but the abandoned houses, barred windows, drug house across the street felt more like home than other "vacations" i've taken. i even slept better than i normally do when away from the comfort of my own bed.

even though it felt like home, it didn't look like home. i've been in enough "inner cities" to know what one stereotypically looks like, but this city was different. this city didn't seem to have hope. in "my" city, you can drive through the worst neighborhood and come across a street of people who have intentionally moved in to be neighbors, to do life. they shop at the local stores, walk to church, and choose not to use air conditioning so that they sit on their front porches. with that comes hope for restoration; for peace. in detroit, very little of that exists. the people that afford to, are moving out of there quickly, leaving houses and buildings boarded up and falling down; causing the local economy to fall apart; making the poor become even poorer. the hopelessness was like a foggy polution.

my friend chris is one of those people that i never imagined living in barred house across the street from both a pimp and a drug dealer. chris was a small town preacher's kid, and the counselor who worked his way up to supervisor at the mostly white, christian, suburban kid's camp where we met. he went to a mostly white, very conservative reformed college. during his senior year (shortly after we became friends), he showed up in the exhibit hall of a conference called urbana where i happened to be working, and he said to me, "i think god might be calling me to teach in a city." i spent some time showing him around my city (which had just topped the most dangerous city chart a few months earlier) and processing what a decision like that would look like. i wasn't surprised when a few months later he chose to teach english in japan instead. chris needed that year in japan (although it was very hard), but god brought him back, set him right in the middle of a decrepit neighborhood, and said "enter into this mess. love the kids. bring some hope." chris has done just that. he's been there all of six months and has done what many experienced teachers in mainstream classes cannot do: he brought his students up to grade level in math and reading. urban children that live in small houses with eight-ten other people; in single parent homes where drugs and alcohol and a number of boyfriends and girlfriends keep children up at all hours; where good nutrition is not affordable; in a school with very little money and fewer resources; in a city where the graduation rate is 27%. chris brings hope.

a part of me really wants to rejoice that i live in the city where hope exists in little pockets; to be proud that i live in the city that is no longer dying. but then faces of the students in chris's little school give life, give a name, to the hopelessness. they didn't choose to live there, but they unknowningly depend upon the people who do choose to live there for a chance to "get out" or even just a chance to survive.

there's a promise in the bible that i have loved for years which takes on an even greater meaning after my visit. it's a promise i'm choosing to believe in and pray over the city of detroit. it's a promise that i hope will bring encouragement to chris and jessi and jessica and eric and dana and the few others that believe god has not yet forsaken the city. it goes a little something like this:

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
(this is the best part)
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations.

bedtime story

2009-02-17T22:03:00.012-06:00

i just spent a re-energizing weekend in detroit with an old friend

and a new friend.

we went to this little place where it is christmas all year.

we could partake of gingerbread houses,

speak many languages,

and spy on santa.

we also visited the silent night chapel (a replica of the real silent night chapel in austria) because christmas is really all about jesus.

then we visited a quaint german town

where i got to introduce my old friend to food from my ethnic heritage

the deliciousness made me happy.

the next day, we went over the bridge to canada.

we did not eat at a canadian mcdonalds,

but we did gaze at the detroit skyline

before taking the tunnel under the river back to the states.

i saw funny things while in michigan.

i saw impactful things while in michigan. (the bus rosa parks rode. ironically, i sat in the back.)

i had a great time while in michigan.

the end.

more thoughts of the serious variety tomorrow.

these pictures are way too fun not to share

2009-02-11T11:41:00.002-06:00

there's creativity oozing from my closet

2009-02-09T23:41:00.002-06:00

i'm taking this class at my new church that deals with aspects of how we live life together as the church (not just that church, but the church). tonight dealt with spiritual gifts. i have been thinking a lot lately about giftings, specifically mine. it's pretty obvious that i've got the administrative stuff. (hey don't judge me by my freezer.) over the last four years, god has been deconstructing and rebuilding me, along the way revealing things about me that i didn't know or that i didn't recognize. one of those things being what i think might be some artist personality tendancies. something about that feels very awkward - a creative "type a". the pastor who taught the class tonight was talking about different personality types and he said, "there are those who have their closets all neat and tidy and organized by color. and there are those whose closets you can't even see, but those are the people that ooze creativity." i know that god is the creator and he can create whatever the heck he wants, but it's hard to wrap my mind around creativity oozing out of my organized closet. it causes me to wonder if i'm really just one posing as the other. so which would i be? (note: i do know that a person can have more than one gifting, but seriously, how often do these two go together?)

i can't escape the administrator in me. i don't love the administrator in me, but i love the order and effciency the administrator in me produces.

as for the creative side (which by the way my new church calls the creative communicator spiritual gift). i've got that whole singing thing...for like 22 years now, worship teams and worship leading, saxophone for 9 years, guitar now for 3 months, some photography (which has been affirmed in the sense that a couple of my photos have won very local awards), and i've been hearing more and more lately that i'm a good story teller. i also love to create with food by deviating from a recipe or figuring out how to mesh random things from my fridge into one dish. i feel incredibly close to god in nature and through music, and often hope that when people look at my photos or listen to me sing or allow me to lead them in worship, that will find some sort of connection to their creator. can those things justify my being a creative communicator? is it okay that i'm just mediocre at all of these things, instead of a master of one? how do explain the feeling i get when i touch my guitar or take photographs that move me to closer to the center of god's character?

this post is a lot of processing aloud. i'm interested in what you have to say, not to affirm who i am, but more just to gather some opinions on what feels to be two naturally conflicting giftings, if the one is really my gift. so please, leave your thoughts. start a discussion.

2009-02-09T16:42:00.004-06:00

front porches. rainy days. hot tea. good book.

two songs

2009-02-05T10:28:00.003-06:00

two songs I'm diggin' right now (both of which I can actually play on guitar!)

i will rise by chris tomlin

there's a peace i've come to know
though my heart and flesh may fail
there's an anchor for my soul
i can say, it is well

jesus has overcome and the grave is overwhelmed
the victory is won, he is risen from the dead

i will rise when he calls my name
no more sorrrow, no more pain
i will rise on eagle's wings
before my god, fall on my knees
and i rise, i will rise

(v2) there's a day that's drawing near when this darkness breaks to light
and the shadows disappear and my faith shall be my eyes

(bridge) i hear the voice of many angels sing, worthy is the lamb
i hear the cry of every longing heart, worthy is the lamb

giving up by ingrid michaelson (i happen to think that ingrid is a very clever songwriter)

what if we stop having a ball?
what if the paint chips from the wall?
what if there's always cups in the sink?
what if i'm not what you think, think that i am?

what if i fall further than you?
what if you dream of somebody new?
what if i never let you win, chase you rolling pin?
well, what if i do?

cause i am giving up on making passes
i am giving up on half empty glasses
i am giving up on greener grasses
i am giving up

what if our baby comes in after nine?
what if your eyes close before mine?
what if you lose yourself sometimes,
then i'll be the one to find you, safe in my heart.

i don't think this is the "official" video, but it's really ingrid singing

2009-02-04T17:05:00.002-06:00

one of the things i've been doing in my quest to do new, ambitious things is to watch all of the Academy Award Best Picture winners. by the end of this weekend, i will be one-fourth of the way through the list. in celebration of this, i thought i would share what i have seen.

1929 - The Broadway Melody
1932 - Grand Hotel - i really liked this one!
1939 - Gone with the Wind - i actually had never seen this one. i had always been under the impression that Scarlett O'Hara was some wonderful heroine so you can imagine my distaste at discovering what a self-center, devious women she was!
1941 - How Green Was My Valley - the ups and downs of a mining town told from the perspective of a boy
1964 - My Fair Lady - of course, i love it!
1965 - The Sound of Music - and this one too
1968 - Oliver!
1976 - Rocky
1980 -Ordinary People - i actually watched this for my communications class in undergrad...it's odd, but interesting
1984 - Amadeus
1990 - Dances with Wolves
1993 - Schindler's List
1994 - Forrest Gump - is this movie really 15 years old already?!
1997 - Titanic
1998 - Shakespeare in Love
1999 - American Beauty
2001 - A Beautiful Mind
2003 - Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King - it's the only one of the trilogy to win
2005 - Crash
2006 - The Departed

next two to watch: 1937 - The Life of Emile Zola and 1985 - Out of Africa

randomness captured on film

2009-02-03T20:22:00.002-06:00

i call this one "death among beauty"

a closer look at the death

raina and i were driving down I-70 one sunday morning when this trailer bed full of big ceramic things came up beside us....we laughed for a long time.

the americana boot had a spur on it!

this, folks, is a chicken. a 15 foot chicken.

"The Referral Game" by Bob Lupton

2009-02-02T10:34:00.010-06:00

while watching football during what has become an undeclared american holiday, i found myself in a conversation with a new friend from my new church about just what it takes to effect change in a community. it got me thinking about two men that have influenced some of the social justice oriented decisions i have made for my life. one them, randy white, has actually become my friend in recent months. his stories turned into reality as he drove me around his neighborhood this summer. he and his wife are incredible jesus-like models for incarnational ministry in the roughest, poorest neighborhoods should like. randy will be the first to tell you how many times he's messed up, and he'll repeatedly tell you that they don't have it all figured out. the other guy, bob lupton, lives in atlanta where he gave up a career in business to move into a neighborhood that seemingly redefined his life, his assumptions about christianity, people, and the hood. both bob and randy along with another guy, scott bessenecker, are the kind of writers that i would like to be - story tellers really, with a knack for making you feel as if you are an unnamed character in the story. the key is that their stories have purpose, they aren't just time fillers. below is a small section from bob's book "Theirs is the Kingdom." get the book. it's good. but brace yourself as his stories (as well as randy's and scott's) will wreck what you believe to be the truth about christianity and "social justice." but we all need a little punch to the gut every now and then.

The Referral Game

He was a bearded man. He was probably in his late thirties, although it was difficult to tell from his disheveled appearance. With the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped the sweat from his face and readied himself to make a proper reception desk presentation.

He was hungry, he told Trisha. Needed some food real bad. Trisha dutifully responded that our lunch was on Wednesday, but if he would go down the street to St. Anthony's...

The bearded man cut Trisha short. He was no longer able to maintain a meek countenance. His anger flared as he recounted his last two days of trudging through the city, following one empty lead after another. He was now very hungry and desperate. He couldn't tolerate any more of this kind of help. He had come to the end of the Referral Game.

"Referral" is a game devised by people helpers to assist the needy in finding help somewhere else. It appears kind and is laced with compassionate words. It can be played by all kinds of churches and agencies. The only requirement is the purchase of a social service directory and a volunteer to dispense the appropriate information.

"Referral" is an attractive game for churches. Christians can discharge their responsibility to the hungry, naked, and homeless with efficiency and cost effectiveness. Referral requires little personal contact with the poor. It can be done by phone. Serious players, of course, schedule five to fifteen minute personal interviews, fill out data forms, and even make phone calls on behalf of the interviewee. Some Referral fanatics have computerized the game, dramatically reducing the processing time and adding a cross-check dimension that keeps the poor playing by the rules

Referral, like Monopoly or Risk, involves true-to-life situations. It is often played with great emotion and intensity. We can learn a great deal about poverty, the system, and even ourselves by playing it. But for us Referral is different from real life. We can close the manual and go home whenever we decide

Referral is a serious game. The pawns are human beings. They know what the players do not. They know there is not enough food in the game to feed everyone. They know the allocation of beds and jobs is half enough to go around. Yet the pawns continue to allow themselves to be moved from place to place. Perhaps they are hoping to find a Referral player who will remove his or her helper mask and become a real-life neighbor. More than anyone else, pawns understand that in real life there is an abundance of food and shelter. There is enough for everyone. And they know that real neighbors share. Therein lies their hope

Referral is serious, too, because it deludes the resourced people of God into believing they have fed, clothed, and housed "the least of these." In fact they have neither shared their bread, nor given their second coat, nor invited a stranger into their home. Referral allows us to process poverty with rubber-gloved safety rather than enter the contaminating world of redemptive relationships

"Damn racists!" the bearded man exclaimed with a glare. He turned and without looking back limped out the church door, slamming it behind him. A real person. Alone.

never in a million years

2009-02-01T12:03:00.006-06:00

another exciting milestone occured this weekend. not only did i break my all time high of 72 by 43 points, but i won the game! the game just after this brought me a score of 90 and a second place finish. talk about an on night! i'm listed as "a town" in the picture below. no, i didn't come up with this. i was with a group of people from my new church and considering i'm still the new girl, i just went along with it.

ornamental tradition

2009-01-25T16:32:00.006-06:00

i awoke this morning to find the ground blissfully white. it made me want to drag all of the boxes from the basement labelled "christmas" and tinsel the room in merriment. considering we have yet to take our current decorations down, adding more would turn our house into the "christmasland" i recently saw on a lifetime movie, and the neighbors might think us a little insane. so i pulled out the boxes and began to take my share of christmas down in a surprisingly joyful manner.

when i was a young tyke, my grandma started what has become one of my most favorite aspects of christmas. each year since 1985, she gives each of us a wooden ornament. most of them are hand carved and hand painted and were discovered in some little store on one of my grandparent's many world adventures. i love the smell that wafts from the tin when the lid is peeled back. each ornament gets carefully unwrapped and turned over in my hands so that i can appreciate the corners of intricacies. when we were younger, my sisters and i would all put our ornaments on the tree in the living room, but since "growing up" i've yet to do so. i've always found an alternative spot such as door frames. this year, they hung from the fire place where, instead of being tucked into branches, they were on display for the whole world (all ten of them that came into our living room) to see.

the picture below contains my favorites. the bell on the far right is the very first ornament grandma gave me in 1985. the music note next to it is the 2008 ornament. the manger carving in the middle is actually from jerusalem! the angel on the far right is the one non-wood ornament amongst them. i love it's simplicity.

traditions are not something my family seems to do very well. other than grandpa always using pink frosting on cake and mom making lep cookies every year, we don't really seem to repeat anything for more than a couple of years. but grandma has been very sucessful in this tradition, and i love it so much that i one day plan to do the same for all fifty of my grandchildren.

grandma - thanks for making us a part of tradition. and go big red!

everyone else - yes, my grandma is tech savvy enough to read my blog. she even emails me sometimes!

men of the romantic variety and other various ramblings

2009-01-23T13:00:00.001-06:00

work is really slow today. that NEVER happens. ever. so i thought i'd fill a few moments with some really random thoughts.

exactly one week ago, i changed my facebook status to read "reason #237 why it would be beneficial to have a man of the romantic variety in my life: i have a flat tire and the lug nuts are too tight." if i were to write that today, it would say "reason #238 why it would be beneficial to have a man of the romantic variety in my life: the dryer isn't working effciently and i really want my sheets to smell like they have been line dried anyway. " aka - i think there is something wrong with the dryer and i really want a laundry line.

i had coffee last night with some really fun women. two of them are from my new church. the other was someone to hopefully call a new friend. we met at this little corner coffee shop near the history museum. it's unique in that it has a bike shop attached to it. bikes and coffee.

one rant i've had for a while, but keep forgetting to get out in the open: those darn plastic coffee stir sticks. they don't work. the minute they hit the liquid heat, they bend thus not fulfilling their intended purpose on this earth. i don't even know why coffee shops by them. the wood ones, however, are great! at locations that choose to use these, i can actually taste the sugar in my coffee on the first sip as opposed to the mountain i get at the bottom of the cup when using the plastic stirrers. local locations that use the wood stirrer: kayak's and kaldi's (at least two locations). the place we went to last night goes a step higher - they use a good old fashioned spoon!

my grandpa came home yesterday from his third stint since thanksgiving in the hospital. what started as pneunomia ended up as half a lung removed for cancer. in an odd way, i'm grateful that his pneunomia landed him in the hospital as they then caught his cancer fairly early. my grandpa is an ornery old man (who is really very young). he doesn't like doctors, and he tried to get me to take his potassium pills for him when no one was looking. don't worry, i didn't do it. although i probably could have gotten some money out of the deal...

randomness and rants make me think of my friend jake. he and his wife are seminary students in denver. jake is one of my most favorite people so there are a lot of things i will always remember about him, but one thing that i was remembering recently was how he and his brother liked to play with words. they would often put the emphasis on the wrong syllable or say words backwards. quirky, i know. check out his blog.

tonight is the annual covenant presbyterian church trivia night. last year the covenant christian school teachers table took a very close second (like 3 points close). as the pe teacher, i feel it is my job to not only encourage, but to evoke a competitiveness that will drive us beyond the close second to a victory! i can see it now: just as players dump icy gatorade over the heads of coaches, my trivia players will dump bowls of popcorn over my head in triumph. just kidding. the reality is that i'm really dead weight when it comes to trivia. i'm still hoping for a win.

another first

2009-01-22T16:24:00.003-06:00

first of all, let it go on the record that i blog to you today from the comfort of my front porch!

i had another first today. i went to court. not for me, but to attempt to seek some justice on behalf of a child, or rather, three children. i can't write about the case, but i can tell you that court was a very interesting place to be.

i arrived to find the sterile waiting room fairly empty, and made my way to a chair by the wall. thirty minutes later, i looked up from my book to find the room buzzing with lawyers, social workers, children, and parents of all sorts --biological, foster, etc. it was easy to put the book aside and just watch the happenings of the room. that is what i did, for the next three hours. not too long into my people watching, i figured out that there is a magical and powerful clipboard that hangs on the door to the court room. once your case name gets written on the that board, you know that you will get to enter the clipboard once the big bailiff guy calls your name. he called a lot of names, but never the one i waited for. why? because our name had yet to make it on the board. my supervisor came and briefed me on what would happen once we were inside. all i needed to remember was to say "no, your honor." i was pretty nervous about remembering the "your honor" part. two hours into this adventure our name finally made it to the clipboard, but it was dead last.

many of the people that had occupied the waiting area had been in and out of the court and were out frolicking in the beautiful afternoon. (well, maybe not frolicking. they did just leave court.) so i settled back into my chair with my book. the social worker on my case joined me and somewhat interruptedly began telling me useless stories. i gave her my book to read.

after three hours of sitting, the big bailiff guy called our case. i followed my supervisor into the room and kept saying to myself "no, your honor. no, your honor. no, your honor." we were all introduced and the three attorney's got to say their piece. i sat quietly and listened taking in the new pieces of information. i was listening intently until i realize there was a rather quiet, but yet distracting noise coming from the back corner of the room. not wanting to do anything that might get me arrested, i made a slow small move to get a glance at mr guy bailiff guy, asleep and snoring at his desk, in court! stuffing the giggles inside i turned my focus back to the person speaking and reminded myself of the words i would speak.

the "no, your honor" came out just fine, and we exited the room within fifteen minutes of entering. yes, three hours of waiting for fifteen minutes, a "no, your honor", and a snoring bailiff guy.

however, i must say that my court report was actually mentioned by the juvenile officer, and an attorney stopped me afterward and told me it was a great report. it's good to know the report is really worth something!

yet another "first" to cross off my list....as if court was on my list of things to experience....

2009-01-21T20:24:00.002-06:00

i think what this guy says is important. don't read my blog today, read his. (but come back tomorrow)

change - monty hobson

top ten albums of 2008 according to me

2009-01-20T17:53:00.005-06:00

thanks to kale and my guitar playing adventures, i've been thinking a lot lately about music that moves me. being the emotionally oriented person that i am, i connect with music that really speaks something to me; that reaches down and "strikes a chord".

the following are my faves from 2008. these albums weren't necessarily released in 2008, but rather, I purchased them or discovered them and listened to them a lot. below the album, i listed my favorite songs.

1. The Builder and the Architect -Sandra McCracken
Thy Mercy, My God
Rock of Ages

2. Ampersand - Derek Webb and Sandra McCracken
If Not for You
When the Summer's Gone

3. Vive la Vida - Coldplay
Strawberry Swing
Lovers in Japan

4. We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things - Jason Mraz
Lucky
Details in the Fabric

5. Ingrid Michaelson - songs from a myriad of her albums
Album - Be Ok, Song - Be Ok
Album - Girls and Boys - Breakable
Single - Giving Up

6. Once - Soundtrack - Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova
The Hill
When Your Mind's Made Up
Falling Slowly

7. Twentysomething - Jamie Cullum
Twentysomething

8. 19 - Adele
Daydreamer
Hometown Glory

9. a random mix my roommate made for me for my trip to california

10. Sandra McCracken - Red Balloon
The Tie that Binds
The High Countries

i also "rediscovered" a couple of oldies in my stash during my move this summer that have become permanents in the rotation: Chicago: The Heart of Chicago 1967-1998 Vol II, and Hanson: Middle of Nowhere. yes, kale already informed me that listening to Hanson is "totally normal."

finally finished

2009-01-18T21:30:00.004-06:00

i finally finished my grad school essay...one month after i started it. i know, i'm going to have to get a little faster at writing these things when i actually start classes. since it took me a month, i thought i'd make it worth the time and post it on here in addition to submitting it.

"What motivated you to become an educator and how do you think your participation in Webster's MAT program will help you to accomplish your personal and professional goals?"

I cannot remember what initially motivated me to become a teacher. The desire has just always been there, like a childhood memory. Saturdays in elementary school were often spent playing “teacher and student” in my friend’s basement. In high school, I was a “cadet teacher” which meant I spent a lot of time grading papers and designing bulletin boards. I loved the mark of a red pen, the crinkling of fresh butcher paper, and the bit of extra attention from the teacher. During those same years, I had a conversation with an elementary teacher about the overwhelming numbers of students that needed individual academic help. As a result of this conversation, I started a program that paired high school students with elementary students in an academic after school program. Working with the students in this program opened my eyes to the idea that becoming a teacher was about more than red check marks and pretty bulletin boards. It wasn’t until a few years later that I realized its true depth.

It was the summer of 2000 and I had just finished my first year of college. I found myself in the heart of one of the most dangerous cities in the nation attempting to provide some relief in a local school and writing curriculum for a summer program. I entered the school to find an atrocity; too many students in one classroom, third graders that couldn’t write their own names, and very limited resources for teachers. These teachers didn’t have access to a copy machine and many were forced to provide supplies for their students. Stresses like these often led to apathy among the staff and situations where teachers would take to calling their students inappropriate names. I stood outside one day after one such incident, tears gushing, and vowed to become the teacher that would make a positive impact on students. I would not be apathetic, but contagiously passionate. I would empower my students to think, to explore, and to become lifelong learners.

Almost ten years later, I’m living in that dangerous city in the middle of a neighborhood that often evokes raised eyebrows. Living here has stirred up a passion within me for children from poverty, abusive homes, and neglectful parents. Teaching these children is not enough. I want to have a home with beds and clothes for them. I want to leave little surprises in their lunches every day. I desire to be the one that finds solutions for the third grader who can’t read because his school and biological parents have failed him. I want to be a justice seeker, a family, and a source of love.

A degree from Webster University will allow me to professionally serve the students in opening doors to the love of learning, specifically in the science field. Engaging this career that I love on a deeper level will enable me to open my home to children who will need it. I realize that what I would gain at Webster University would not only change my life, but be the beginning of life change in many children’s lives. I seek to include Webster University in this great adventure.

satisfactorily hungry

2009-01-18T14:09:00.002-06:00

it's been one of those "phew" weekends, the feeling coming just after a week of doctor's visits, big deadlines, playing airport taxi, and being assistant mom to my friend's six kids while their dad is in peru. (i also had a flat tire due to the darn cold which i managed to change all by myself). it was one of those weeks where there were not enough hours in the day and the end of the day brought a tiredness so strong that sleep could not be avoided.

at first not having anything to do was driving me crazy as it's not often in life that i have just been able to relax, to rest, to just breathe. but then i realized i could pick up my guitar and just play without restriction of time. i discovered time for sitting on my porch, for reading the stack of books by my bed, for making random walks to the loop with my roommate (of course for fro yo). there's time for writing and for photos. time to reflect.

is it possible to be hungry for something and not know it until you start to feel some satisfaction or a little relief? i'm starting to think it is. it turns out this new church is hitting me in spots i had forgotten about. in places dry and withering. i thought i felt discontentment, but deeper than that, i was hungry for something. getting little pieces of it each week has only made me recognize that hunger. am i being satisfied? yes. but i still want more. and i hope that doesn't change. "satisfy me in the morning with your unfailing love" (Psalm 90:14). i want to be satisfied in way that leaves me wanting more so that the first thing i think of each day is to ask for more of His unfailing love.

i'm learning to love sundays again...

a new kind of clown

2009-01-10T13:19:00.007-06:00

last night, on a whim, my former roommate and i snagged tickets for "to kill a mockingbird" at the edison theater on wash u's campus. "to kill a mockingbird" is one of the great classics that i have never read. after seeing last night, i'm not sure why, and am somewhat saddened that no teacher or professor ever required it of me. atticus (the lawyer and father) tells his children to walk in the shoes of others, and i found myself transported from my seat in a theater to the little town of macom in 1935. i felt the fear and hatred that swelled in the heat of the summer. i wanted to hug atticus; to express how proud i was of him. tears of defeat rolled down my face, and my fists were sometimes clenched in anger.

i think there's just one kind of folks. folks. - Scout

the one pair of shoes i struggle to put on, even for a moment , are those of the angry mob. of the people that hated just because of skin color. quite honestly, of those that hated in general. i don't really know how to hate or maybe i just get all of my hatred out on fish and mushrooms. in all honesty, i've probably just never been provoked enough to hate. i can't pretend to understand the slave traders or hitler or the hatred behind the civil wars in africa or the guy down on etzel that shoots the other guy for being friends with the wrong people. in my mind and in my heart, people are people. folks are folks. they are affected greatly by what comes with their skin color, gender, religion, language, etc. it's important to include those characteristics when considering a person, but in a wholistic way without judgement and certainly without seething contempt.

They're certainly entitled to think that, and they're entitled to full respect for their opinions... but before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience. -Atticus

sometimes i wonder if we can really affect change large enough to make a true difference. at some point enough countries got together and stopped the massacre of WWII, men of courage stepped up and said "folks are folks" and slavery is wrong, and people who believed in the power of hope and something greater than themselves moved to etzel.

I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. -Atticus

as i write there is a group from the jewish community down the street protesting the upheavel in israel. a group of about fifty on a very public strip in a city in the middle of the midwest. will their voices really be heard? about one block from them is another group of people, masked and carrying signs against the church of scientology. will their presence saturday after saturday have any effect?

sometimes i just don't think it's enough and i want to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head, and forget about war, a crashing economy, the drug deals down the street, the neighbors that got robbed.

"I think I'll be a clown when I get grown," said Dill. "Yes, sir, a clown.... There ain't one thing in this world I can do about folks except laugh, so I'm gonna join the circus and laugh my head off." "You got it backwards, Dill," said Jem. "Clowns are sad, it's folks that laugh at them." "Well, I'm gonna be a new kind of clown. I'm gonna stand in the middle of the ring and laugh at the folks."

my soul longs to be an atticus, and maybe i will be on a small scale. an atticus to one person. but i guarantee that there will be days where hope will seem just slightly out of reach, and i'll picture myself, just briefly, as a new kind of clown standing in the middle the ring, laughing. laughing.

in the spirit of the new year

2009-01-05T22:42:00.002-06:00

the blog has now had a makeover. its fun to use some of my own photos to garnish the blogger plate. i thought the new look would be a great intro to my previously promised reflections of 2008. as i've spent the last week or so (really more like a month because i do most of my pondering around my birthday and today i am exactly 27 years and one month old) pondering this past year, the phrase that continues to run through my mind is "the best year of my life." really, it has been among the top if not THE top. the year really became about God revealing to me who i really am at the core which has been blinded for many years by the person i thought i was or was trying to be. the results of the revelation? all kinds of new stuff i would never do...and a nose ring as a reminder of a promise from the one who grants ridiculously gracious freedom. Some of the highlights from the year:

- 20 days in california
- a house
- not just one, but three photos recognized with one honor or another in a local show
- seeing my favorite artist (singer/songwriter) live--twice
-8 mile bike ride through oakland (even though i almost got left in the dirt, thanks josh)
-disneyland
-losing 32 pounds
-running not one, but two 5ks!
-backyardigans live with my little friends
-moving in with my really fun friend
-spending time with ma rohde
-dating again (don't worry friends, you would know if it were anything serious)
-spending new years eve out
-watching one of my highly uncoordinated, scared of the ball, cries at the drop of a hat students perform a pretty rockin' header during a game of soccer and then beam as she told me she learned that it didn't hurt from one of our more physically adept students
- a week long visit from the cutest nephew in the world
-giving my first iv talk
-staying at randy white's house...he and tina are just super awesome
-holding my friends' first baby
-being present for the wedding of a woman i admire greatly (j-lo)
-a ten mile hike with lady who knows how to have a good time on a ten mile hike (she really just has a good time anywhere)
-two words - fro yo

in place of a resolution (which i don't do), i'll just mention what i'm looking forward to in 2009:
-leading worship at catalyst with kale
-going to detroit (and canada) to see a friend unseen for two years
-starting grad school
-a new church (98% sure it will be windsor crossing - www.wcrossing.org)
- a broadway show (either annie or wizard of oz) with my two other little friends that didn't get to go to backyardigans
-kissing a few more pounds good-bye (or at least fat molecules...muscle weighs more than fat)
-two words - fro yo

2009-01-04T23:57:00.004-06:00

it looks like i'm having yet another sleepless night. the house is dark and quiet. the other inhabitants will awake in about five hours, about that time i will probably finally fall asleep. there's a lot to think about, and shutting my brain off is not something that comes naturally or easily. i just attended four church services in less than twenty-four hours. i guess i should go ahead and make the official announcement that i'm currently church shopping. this was not an easy decision considering i've been at my current church for almost five years and have not just been an attender, but have been initmately connected with several of the ministries. i've even been on the payroll. i noticed some discontentment about six months ago, but chose to sit on it for a while. then after being in the presence of an old spiritual leader of mine in october, i realized that i was aching for something i could not get at my current church. still, this church has a lot to offer. i value its mission and the way it is seen very tangibly among both the leaders and members. so i continued to pray for three more months. just before christmas, as i headed out to the parking lot after a sunday morning service, i felt this overwhelming sense that it was just time to move on. whether or not God was giving me permission or actually calling me away, i'm not completely sure, but i do feel a sense of peace. not wanting to spend a lot of time in the initial searching process led to strategically taking advantage of odd service times. i hit a 6:30 last night, and a 9am, 11am, and 5pm today. crazy, i know.

one of the churches i visited, i was very nervous about visiting as i know no one that goes there (except for one pastor of another church that attends this church on occasion so that he can get his fix of "rock out worship"). my marital status nor my dating status have changed which means i'm doing this church shopping thing alone. you would think that it wouldn't be an issue seeing as how i've done a lot of pretty major things in life "alone." (i put that in quotes because i always have supporters). for some reason, checking out this church, being the girl walking in looking like a freshman on the first day of school, finding a seat for one, and trying to connect to God in a place unfamiliar sent the butterflies soaring. a couple of songs in to worship i found myself overcome with peace and an ability to worship freely despite my initial feelings. this church is not the type of church that two years ago i would have thought i would be attending much less considering it as my church home. i will admit that even though God had worked on quite a bit of my heart in the last couple of years, i still entered this church building with doubts, and maybe even looking for things to be a little judgemental about (i'm so glad for God's grace!) amazingly, by the end of the service, many of the questions had been answered and the negative judgemental side had been warded off.

i thought i wouldn't know any of the music. thanks to my recent ventures in worship leading for work and my wonderful friend/guitar teacher/co-worship leader, i actually knew some of the songs. in fact, one of them was blaring from my mp3 player in the car on the drive to the church.

i thought this might be a church where people find it hard to be real. i've come to a point in my life where i cannot hide the truth, even when it is a crappy reality (although i'm usually pretty good about finding the positive). the guy who was leading worship was pretty transparent. he couldn't think of the next song they were going to sing, and he said so. he made some sarcastically funny comment about their transitions from song to song . it wasn't polished. he wasn't ashamed. and worship was really great. if being real, who you are in the moment (in an appropriate way, that is) is portrayed on the stage, it has to exist somewhere in the body, if not throughout the body as a whole.

as if the candidness of the worship leader and subduing of doubts weren't enough, God hit me with a sermon that i quite honestly hadn't been expecting. it wasn't anything profound or anything new really, but it perfectly paralleled the book i've been using for my devotions. in the hours before this service, i had read a portion of the book and felt so compeled to worship my creator that i actually got out my guitar and played all five chords i know in a pattern that somewhat (hopefully) resembled a chris tomlin song. i really didn't think i would have that feeling again the whole week, not to mention the same day. really, God, the same thing again? you're good.

part of what the speaker had to say revolved around silence and listening to God. while these were not the themes i found currently familiar, they still resonated; caused me to think. i actually went back to that church for their evening service tonight. same songs. same speaker. same sermon. i returned because i wanted to hear it again...to pick up anything i had left when i walked out the door.

this is the third sleepless night i've had this week. one night was so sleepless that i was still awake when my roommate left for work at 6am. last night was fairly sleepless...as i think tonight will be. my mind is spinning...thinking, no analyzing, all of my church visits today. in the midst of all this thinking there is a part of me that really questions: am i really thinking that much? is there really much to think about? is this really a sleepless night or is it really the Lord trying to get me to shush and listen?

shush. listen.

new year's resolutions

2009-01-03T13:49:00.004-06:00

it's probably rather cliche to blog about resolutions, but since i've been asked about fifty times i thought i'd just tell the whole world (or at least all five of you who read this blog). the truth is, i don't make resolutions. when there is something in my life that needs changing or more discipline or there are new experiences to be had, i just do it. i don't wait for the new year, new month, or sometimes even the new week. (don't get me wrong, i can procrastinate with the best of them.)

in the spirit of tradition, i do like to reflect on the year gone by. it's a process i'm still in the middle of for 2008, but i will post my findings soon.

thought pattern

2008-12-21T20:25:00.006-06:00

i hate when i'm absent from blogging, yet for some reason, i struggle to log in and put the ideas from head onto "paper." tonight, i created my own coffee shop in my kitchen in order to escape the frigid temperatures outside. with the oven on and open for extra warmth, my favorite candle lit (cranberry mandarin), a hot drink at my side, and loud christmas music in the background, one would think that i was prepared for an evening of writing; for the blog; for grad school. i've been sitting here for about an hour; thinking. about my day. about my year. about what next year is about to hold--endings in site; new beginnings, new challenges ahead. thinking about friends: one going through a rough time (Lord, please heal her heart), one stepping bravely into her past (Lord, please protect her from lies), one still mysterious in many ways (Lord, what the heck?). thinking about churches and foster children; lifetime movies and work to be done tomorrow. i should be thinking about what motivated me to be a teacher and why grad school would help me accomplish my personal and professional goals. but grandpa comes to mind, and then grandma which of course leads to thinking of the holiday this week. my grandma and i share a love for the same christmas carol. i love to sing...to worship from my inner most being. i love when i allow myself to write freely. i love to tell stories. to paint detailed pictures in the listener's mind. can i write freely in an essay for entrance to grad school? wish i could just sing for them. alas, singing has very little to do with teaching. motivation for teaching? i think i'll go play the guitar.

the reason why i sometimes find it appropriate to use mild explicatives in the same sentence as the word squirrel

2008-11-20T20:57:00.005-06:00

2008-11-16T22:58:00.003-06:00

i finally met the neighbors today. you know, the ones across the street that i see coming and going quite often. yhis was not a Bree Vandekamp welcome to the neighborhood. there were no muffins involved; not even one piece of fruit. even my smile was unreturned, but at least she sort of shook my hand. she told me her name and gestured at her husband who was loading something into their car. then she pointed out their house (as if I didn't know which house it was) and proceeded to explain that they were held-up, at gunpoint, in their garage on friday.

"we're just trying to let everyone know," she said in a somewhat shell-shocked tone.

the semi-mothering side of me kicked in with "are you okay" and "do you need anything", but she just continued to say, "we just want people to know."

i'm not oblivious to the kind of neighborhood that i've chosen to live in. Iive seen a drug deal go down on the corner. i wonder if this couple knew or if they were deceived by the beauty of it's tree-lined streets. i am both saddened and scared, mostly with them. but what has haunted me since the conversation this afternoon: it took a horrible situation for neighbors to finally meet. when neighbors can't be neighbors or choose not to be neighbors: that's when evil sneaks into the garage.

like a stab to the heart...

when "pick" really means "choose"

2008-11-11T00:08:00.000-06:00

I have never been pumpkin picking. My roommate, her sister, and I made the trek out to a semi-local farm that advertises "pick your own pumpkin" in order to partake in one of their family's traditions: pumpkin carving. As we drove down the field-lined highway, the excitement swelled in me; probably from the small town side of my soul. Thanks to the jedi-light-sabered-air traffic controlling-men, we found a parking spot with hitting any small children or oversized pumpkins that were being carted around the parking lot. We found our way to the giant stack of giant pumpkins...yes both the pumpkins and the stack were giant (sorry no photos)...and then to the pumpkins that were much easier to carry to the car. My companions immediately started walking up and down the aisles, looking for pumpkins with the perfect shape and the right stem. I tried to focus on the hints and tips they were giving me, but the country girl in me wanted to walk out into the field and pick a pumpkin, which the farm had advertised that you could do. It didn't take much convincing to get the ladies to saunter to the field with me; all the while envisioning myself pulling a pumpkin off the vine. Imagine my dismay when, at the field's edge, the pumpkins were already picked. More than at the field's edge, they were picked in the field's center and all the way to where the field faded into dirt. This farm did not mean that you pick, as in take directly from the vine. They meant that you could walk out into the field and pick, as in choose, your pumpkin. So I bought into the methods of my friends. I scrutinized the size and shape and stem. Instead of the from the field, my pumpkin came from the $9 row just beneath the giant tower of giant pumpkins

girls on the run 5k

2008-11-09T21:25:00.013-06:00

Molly and I nearing the end - 35.07 was our time!

Katy and Rebekah

After the race, freezing and hungry, but we made it!

raina's birthday cake

2008-11-02T21:13:00.001-06:00

moldy pumpkins and dead mums...

2008-11-02T21:09:00.000-06:00

a sign of winter?

top fifteen things i like to do with my super cute friends

2008-11-01T20:55:00.006-05:00

15. Associating cuss words with squirrels
14. Your mom or Your mom's?
13. In my mind, I'm already there
12. Sleepovers
11. Playing Loaded Questions
10. Being super cute
9. Filling bedrooms with random, small, really hard to clean up items, like tinsel or oversized inflatable pumpkins.
8. Lighting, or rather, putting out, accidental fires
7. "Demons, come out!"
6. Ringing the butler
5. "We" ness
4. What Lawanda would engrave on her bowling ball
3. Hyperventilating while listening to stories of hyperventilation
2. Discussing taxation without representation
1. Eating pancakes with Aunt Jamima

*Note: This blog is based solely on the inside jokes relevant to 7 individuals. My apologies to those of you who are not those 7 individuals, but it was necessary.

**Double note: This is the 200th post on yeah, like the fish!

and the award goes to...

2008-10-21T16:35:00.002-05:00

The picture below entitled "lost" won second place in the photo show. Thanks to a stellar model, Mr. Jaron Rohde, for being himself (aka driving his mother crazy by being a dare devil marine that climbed in all kinds of really dangerous places on the cliff overlooking the ocean, but at one point taking a break to stare deeply at the ocean providing the perfect photo opportunity for the less couragous.)

this year's photo show entries

2008-10-15T22:48:00.002-05:00

results on sunday...see below for pictures

lost

2008-10-15T22:47:00.002-05:00

tree of life

2008-10-15T22:46:00.001-05:00

morning rain

2008-10-15T22:41:00.004-05:00

when winter kisses fall

2008-10-15T22:40:00.002-05:00

glimpses of a month on hiatus

2008-10-12T22:36:00.003-05:00

assigning rooming lists
updating registrations
late late nights
extra early mornings
a new roommate
getting settled
a sisterly visit
becoming a Charbroil "expert"
grilling pineapple, chicken, and bread
270 students gathering to meet God
the comfort of an old staff worker's voice
the wisdom in another's words
praying with students
counting money
stuffing nametags
58 new emails in one day
a photo show
class
recovery
Backyardigans Live

and somewhere in there, a personal life...

2008-09-09T22:43:00.003-05:00

If you will take a moment to remember: when I first blogged about california, I mentioned that it was to be a time of taking risks; doing things that I wouldn't normally do. Well, I did something that, according to me, was highly uncharacteristic. I had decided before leaving St. Louis that I was going to do it, but waited until my trip was about to end before following through with it. Throughout the days just prior, my stomach would turn with butterflies as I would think about what I was about to do. And just before, I thought I was going to pass out...thank goodness for Christin.

Just after I did it, I was on a natural high..."oh my gosh, look what I just did!" About 6 hours later, I went through a guilty "oh crap what did I just do?" My friends in Denver assured me it was cute and shipped me home with thoughts of shocking people...ya know, showing my fiesty kind of rebellious side (if that side even exists within me).

The surprise never came. My closest friends didn't even notice. I had a conversation with my good friend Jen for almost 20 minutes and then had to say something to her before she did the "oh my gosh". Apparently it looks completely normal; as if I've always had it.

It's been a month now...I like it a lot...and a couple people have noticed and said so...props to Neil, Angela, Amy Schoepf and Steve...Look at the picture. Do you see it?

Turns out my perception of self doesn't really match others' perception of me. Hmmmm...

it's not just a couch

2008-09-07T17:30:00.002-05:00

it’s not just a couch
it’s a hug on a bad day
it’s safety during sleep
it’s a hot cup of tea

it’s not just a couch
it’s a place where friends meet
it’s where tears fall
it’s where laughter abides

it’s not just a couch
it’s change
it’s giving up and giving in
it’s a journey to a new self

it’s not just a couch
it’s a life
it’s letting go of pieces of the soul
it’s saying goodbye
in order to say hello

I think it has been established that I am a nostalgic person. My heart attaches quickly to memories and things that provoke emotion. I'm am driven by what moves me. I choose art based on what I can relate to; what means something to me. Scripture speaks to me when it posesses the same characteristics.

In the most recent case, the object was a couch. Ironically, I had only had this couch a year, but I had fallen in love with its long brown lines and the way it would embrace me at the end of the day. I bonded with it over Lifetime movies and ice cream and cuddled with my nephew on it.

I bought it at a rather large benefit yard sale shortly after my last roommate moved out. Maybe I was nesting, maybe I was growing up. Regardless, I was on a tirade to make my home feel like a home and that couch fit perfectly against my wall. The part of me that thrives on being independent, that doesn't think to ask for help, that takes on the world attached to that couch.

For various reasons, there isn't room in my house for that couch anymore. It would fit in one space, but would not fit in path to get it there. Unexpectedly, the couch went to the curb yesterday. I'm trying to shirk this independence thing. Trying to ask for help; to delve into community. It's much harder than I imagined. Slowly, it's being widdled away, and yesterday, a part of it left with the couch. Through the tears (and the pain), I can't help but see there's more room in my living room (and in my heart) for what is to come.

it's just a couch, but it's not just a couch....

betty crocker strikes again!

2008-09-05T10:43:00.003-05:00

My grandma was once upon a time Miss Betty Crocker, meaning she won an award. I think it runs in the genes...look what I made last night for a bridal shower!

2008-08-10T21:15:00.002-05:00

Research complete. The REAL reason for my writing tonight is somewhat of a rant. Let me preface this by saying that none of my statements are meant to hurt or offend anyone; they merely observations and questions made in my own little world.

Facebook.

While Elizabeth was slaving over dinner, Jake and I entered into the world of The New Facebook. The new wall, the new tabs, and dislocation of it all left us, or rather me, feeling like a new computer user. It will get better, I know, with time. What won't change though is the fact that I have 445 friends. Did you hear that? FOUR HUNDRED FOURTY-FIVE. Now, I realize that many many people have more friends that I do, but as I look through the list of "friends" I'm shocked by what I actually find:

Of my 445 friends:
25 of them are actually my current friends (meaning I have regular conversations with them)
80 of them are people I loved in college, but just don't have enough time to keep up with them regularly
90 of them are people I haven't talked to in 2 or more years
45 of them are people that I have spent 1 or less weeks with in my life
30 of them are people I went to high school with
7 of them are people I've never even held a conversation with!!!!
55 of them are from my church
41 of them are my coworkers
62 of them are random....meaning they didn't really fit into any of the other categories

I would be completely silent about the fact that all of these people have friended me (or visa versa) if avenues of communication were actually be opened in the process....but they're not. I talk to those 25 friends regularly. I e-mail with my coworkers. I see the church people at church. I rarely facebook with these people.

As for the people that I've spent very little time with, never held a conversation with, or not talked to in years...if facebook isn't helping us communicate, nothing will.

In reality, it's really only the 80 people in college that I loved, but don't have time to keep up with regularly that make facebook worth it...

2008-08-10T20:53:00.002-05:00

I'm currently in Denver in the last 24 hours of my trip. Jake, Elizabeth, and I are watching Olympics, and I'm doing a bit of research for my next blog entry. Jake is being impatient and nagging about when I'm going to get it finished so that he can read it. I think he's nervous that I might say something that will make his mother think he is giving the family a name opposite that of which I normally give them.....

Be patient Jake..it's coming...

finding myself after years of wandering

2008-08-07T23:14:00.005-05:00

author's note post-blog: I have never blogged in a way that reveals such detailed depth into my soul. this is a long, personal, reflective piece. something I would normally only write in a journal. as I have invited you into this post, I invite you to continue in prayer with me over the matters of which I have written....

I've spent months gearing up; weeks saying " at this time in three weeks, I'll be in...(the appropriate CA location)" This trip to California has been a long-awaited dream; even the work portion an escape from the reality of the busy-ness that left me in pieces this past year. The vacation clock is now winding down, and in between fun explorations, I find myself whispering, "Next week at this time, I will be pushing through financial reports, making conference plans, writing PE lessons, etc., etc., etc." It sounds sad, and while it may be a bit sad that I have to leave the vacation stage of life, I'm welcoming the return. But I return looking at my life from a different perspective.

Up until a few years ago, I had always had this plan...I had a passion...I had a goal...and I was going to make a difference, dang it! God had other plans and in the midst of those, I found myself feeling like one of those stereotypical twenty-somethings with no direction and no spoken purpose. Ashamed to speak to people about my so called job...or myriad of jobs, I pulled back from places where I would have to explain myself. Much like Habbakuk reflecting on God carrying Israel, I find God all over those few years of my life, and I can see how I've grown in tremendous ways. One thing that continues to nag at me is where my passion really lies. In the process of losing and refinding myself, I somehow started to believe that my passions had to be found completely in my giftings; and that if I wasn't doing something I was passionate about, then I must not actually really have that at-the-core-have-to-do-something-to-fix-the-ache-passion. Without passion, I feel, not useless, but purposeless...and without purpose life becomes this mundane, although very hectic, thing that I do. Like I'm existing, not living.

I DON'T WANT TO JUST EXIST! As I boarded that plane two weeks ago, I asked God to show me specifically where that desire is within me...to guide me toward what tugs at my heart. Not what I'm good at....not what I CAN be good at, but what Papa has placed within me.

Instead of soul-searching; instead of turning to myself in desperation for the answers, I found my answers in the streets of Oakland where God reminded me of the injustice that once broke my heart and spurred me to think beyond my own bubble. I found more answers sitting in the White House in Fresno as Randy described moving into a life away from his degree and praying that the Lord would use it someday. Many years later, God not only used it, but aligned it perfectly with the path Randy was on. God knew...God knows...I just need to keeping asking and waiting patiently. (Side Note: Although Randy and I have really only known each other about a year, this is not the first time God has spoken to me through him..it's fun to see these things play out.)

Justice. Prayer. Patience. "Less general, more specific, Lord?" God responded by showing me this couple, who with open hands, left everything behind, and moved to California to care for the "orphan" only to have their reality stripped and rebuilt by God in a matter of days. I've been around people who foster and adopt and "adopt" neighborhood kids as their own for several years. It's not new to me, and it certainly is something I've been interested in for many years now. Somehow while playing Sorry with a six year old boy caught in the midst of the foster care system, I realized what really breaks the chords of my heart. Maybe it was the way he referred to his foster mom as "mom" and talked about her favorite color. Maybe it was the poem, framed and hanging in plan sight, that his 11 year old brother had written her for mother's day. Maybe it was his super cute little brother who would stumble backwards and fall to the ground in an attempt to play dead. These boys and the stories of my little friends back home break my heart and bring me great joy all in one.

"God, what will you do with this?"

Couple these things with a conversation and a new friendship that has been forcing me to think out of my normal thought pattern. Unexpected questions that have made me question myself in areas I was already questioning myself, but looking at them through the lenses of an outsider. "Why do I love the city?" Diversity? Amenities? Seeing God at work in something so broken? Witnessing visible justice? Yet, I find my greatest connection to God in nature. Why wouldn't I want to put myself in the place where I am most consistently and obviously in His presence? Because I love the city....I can do what God has called me to here...this is what He called me to...this IS what he called me to...this is what He called me to? What DID He call me to? And what did I call MYSELF to? (ouch)

The answer: He did call me to St. Louis, but I buried God's agenda underneath of my own. I came to heal when in reality, I needed healing. God knew.

The quest for passion: my heart breaks for the child that comes from extreme brokenness; from extreme poverty; from families that either don't care or don't have the means to take care of them. I burned out very quickly when I first moved to St. Louis because A) I was trying to do it all of my own accord and B) it wasn't taking the form that God wants it to take. The burnout disguised itself as lack of passion.

The reality: These children are everywhere...I can go anywhere..I can be rural...I can be urban...I can even be (wince ever so slightly) suburban?

God is giving me pictures...a passion reignited?

The quest for purpose: I'm not in a place at this moment where I can see God directly using this passion, but I hear Him reminding me that I am where He wants me to be for now. And in this place, I have purpose. In Him, I have purpose. It is not driven by passion, but by love and trust.

As if all of this wasn't enough, God met me one more time. Two days ago, my good friend and her husband left me alone in their condo while they visited a close relative recovering from surgery. After they left, I rummaged through my backpack, emerged with a stack of receipts, and set out to finish a major portion of a financial report for work. As I sorted the receipts into shorter stacks, my eye caught the guitar in the corner of the room. The thick dust it's voice just begging to be touched. I approached it as a child sneaking to the cookie jar. Within minutes, it was sitting with it in my lap, the computer blaring guitar for beginners next to us, and my fingers fumbling for Am7, Em7, and Bm7.

Yet another passion reignited? There is music within me that more than longs to come out.

I still have four days and one more stop on this westward journey. These reflections have come early, but really they feel four years in the making. Now, I pray and wait. Pray and wait.

Lord, what will you have with what you have shown?

can you guess what I did for 15 hours today?

2008-08-04T23:35:00.001-05:00

This is Mickey's phone found on Mickey's desk in Mickey's house in Toontown. Incidentally, 5677 is also the last four digits of my parent's phone number, the number I grew up with....

yes...i'm STILL in california...

2008-08-02T23:10:00.000-05:00

The posts have been few since the boogie boarding as I've mostly just continued to boogie board and love the beach. Ma and Pa Rohde got a baby-sitter one evening and I "took" them to one of the most beautiful places I have ever been (it was my only request for my stop on the Central Coast), Montana de Oro.

The last time I was there, a friend and I sat with our feet dangling over the cliff and arms resting on the fence who has the precarious job of keeping the curious from falling into the ocean. The sun, low on the horizon, swirled its pinks and purples around the sky and danced them on the ocean like a thousand little fairies. The incoming tide sent waves crashing high against the rocky shoreline at the foot of the cliff. Beautiful and menacing all at once. The whales in the distance perfected the picture as we sat in awe of the creation before us.

The sunset wasn't quite the same. The whales were replaced by otters and lizards, but Montana de Oro once again shown in the beauty of the sunset. It held it's place in my heart as one of the most awe-some places I have ever been.

look what I did today!!

2008-07-31T23:00:00.003-05:00

I'm the top one with the boogie board.

Above: That's me! Ridin' a wave!!

Below: Instructor Jaron and me after an afternoon of waves.

Chillin' with the Rohdes

2008-07-31T12:24:00.005-05:00

Back in the college days, I had this friend named Joel. One weekend, Joel took me to his family's home in the metropolis of Wilton, IA. I had heard stories of this lively family, but even those couldn't have prepared me for what I was to enter into. Mark and Lisa, whom I occasionally affectionately refer to as Ma and Pa Rohde, greeted me with open arms, offered to do my laundry, and fed me extravagantly all weekend. In addition to Ma and Pa and Joel, there was Jake (a humorous, baseball-loving, high school senior), Jaron (a pig-collecting freshman), and Jase (honestly, your typical 8th grade boy that sat in the back of a van and poked me incessently). All of the boys were active in many sports which warranted the "Don't mind the nut cups, we use them as candy dishes around here" comment Lisa made within the first five minutes I was in her house. Within days I discovered this quirky family loves Jeopardy, Mario Kart, baseball, and trampolines. That weekend was only a small taste of their hospitality. Two years later, they converted their backyard into a campsite for about 20 college students!

That weekend forged a realtionship much unexpected. I've gotten to hang out around through weddings and babies and transitions. Seven years later, Mark and Lisa live in California where God has called them as advocates and caregivers for foster children. Joel married his college sweetheart, incidently so did Jake. Jaron is a committed marine, and Jase is still a somewhat annoying, but highly loveable college coed.

I can't imagine a trip to California that didn't include a trip to their house, and just as I thought, Ma Rohde has fed me extravagently, offered to do my laundry, and ordered me to relax. It's always great to spend time with family on the other side of the "world."

the fresno leg of the journey

2008-07-30T01:28:00.003-05:00

Both yesterday and today have been spent with the folk of Frenso Institute for Urban Leadership (www.fiful.org). Fiful is the parent "organization" for all of IV's urban stuff going on in Fresno...the summer internship, the week long plunges, the weekend dips, and the 10 month Pink House (as well as a few other things). Fresno has the highest number of concentrated poverty in the nation, and ya know what? God is at work here! There is no way of denying it. I've not yet seen an inner city so full of non-profits, churches, and relocators that are committed to their neighbors. Committed to revitalization. Committed to the shalom of the city.

My stop here in Fresno has mostly been about listening and learning. I have a lot more processing to do which means I'm not really in a great state to write.

I will say, however, that I can't believe how much humidity really effects the way weather feels. It's been in the mid to upper 90s here (same as St. Louis). We've done a fair amount of walking, and I've yet to actually sweat. In St. Louis, I would be drenched! And they have these really cool things called "swamp coolers." Apparently they put humidity into the air and help cool down the house/building. They don't work in humid environment hence the reason I had never heard of them.

That's the short update for tonight. More to come as I process and travel on...