two out of three ain't bad

I made it through Christmas. Didn't set myself on fire, didn't get sick, everything went off without a hitch.

So of course two days later I get sick. I'm staying away from any candles. Not going to push my luck.

goodbye Mrs. Mills

I found out last night at my parents house that my best friend from elementary school's mom, who was also one of my favorite middle school teachers, died this weekend.


Donna Mills spent most of her adult life confined to a wheelchair, but that didn't stop her from becoming an active and caring teacher at *** Middle School. Mills, an English and history teacher at the school for more than 20 years, died Sunday at her home following a four-year battle with ovarian cancer. She was 59.

"She always put everyone else's comfort and happiness above her own," said fellow teacher Bruce Robb. "She really was an incredible inspiration to all of us."

"Whether it was accompanying students to an outdoor education camp or joining in a school relay race, Mills became personally involved in her students' education. She was a ready listener and made a point of praising students for a job well done."

She just loved helping her students, and she just loved being a teacher," said her daughter, Amy Brasil of Penngrove.

Born in Reading, Pa., Mills was a young woman when she lost the use of her legs in an automobile accident southeast of Visalia near the Sierra Nevada foothills community of Springville.A few years later, she met her future husband, Paul Mills, and they were married 24 years.

She graduated from the teacher preparation program at Sonoma State University in 1985. The next year she took a job at ***. She developed close friends among the school's staff and became widely known to the city's students and parents.

"We couldn't go anywhere without getting stopped," Brasil recalled.

Mills, who was diagnosed with cancer four years ago, was able to keep teaching until this school year.

Along with her husband and daughter, Mills is survived by another daughter, Katy Mills of Freestone; a sister, Joyce Ney of Reading, Pa.; and her mother-in-law and father-in-law, Mary and George Van Loon of Riverbank.

this is why I hate the media

Beware, Krystle is pissed.

Yesterday morning at our staff meeting I learned of the two shootings that happened in Colorado over the weekend, the first at a YWAM base in Arvada, the second at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. Four people were killed (five including the gunman) and several were injured. I don't have TV so it didn't seem too incredibly weird to me that I hadn't heard about these shootings until then. Though I was, of course, shocked to hear of them. Yesterday after I got home from work my roommate was reading the paper and I asked her if she'd heard about the shootings. She said she had, and I asked her if it was in the paper. Where did we finally find it? Page A6! A6!!!! A guy opens fire in a Minnesota mall and it's on the front page two days straight, but someone walks into a church with a semi automatic weapon and proceeds to fire rounds until he is shot and killed by an armed security guard (!!!) and it winds up on page A6?! Seriously?! Now, I haven't seen today's paper and since there is more information available about the shooter there might be another article closer to the front page. But still, the Monday after two related shootings have occurred at religious institutions you'd think it would get a little better press.

So what was on the front page, you ask. Let me tell you. The headline was "At Christmas, It's All in the Cards." An article about Christmas cards. Not even joking. "I love getting holiday cards in the mail. That's why I send them out." I'm so glad that we could be informed of Stacey Dougherty's love of Christmas cards a whole six pages before we got to the real news. Good grief.

For more information about the shootings you can visit here for fox news or here for CNN. It's a tragic story from every angle.

"one last hurrah", or, "sleeping in shorts in november"

If my chronicles of this past weekend were part of a book, the chapter would be called one of the above titles, if not both. Actually, I think they're both quite reflective of the style of my current read, Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's no secret that I tend to take on the writing (or even thinking) style of whoever I happen to be reading. During times when I was joyously engrossed in the Harry Potter books I found myself narrating my own happenings like a great adventure. I stopped just short of having a British accent, namely because whenever I try to do an accent it just turns into Australian.

I had a fantastic weekend in Phoenix. Got to enjoy some warm weather, lots of great food, even better company, and best of all I got to relax. The trip started out pretty turbulently as my flight on Wednesday was cancelled...after they held us in limbo for a few hours. Honestly, it was pretty ridiculous. Everything was going according to schedule until *scary music* the door wouldn't shut properly. From there things kind of steamrolled. They kept us on the plane for two hours as mechanics got called out, looked at the door, went back to their workshop to look at schematics of the door, and then said nothing was wrong with the door. So you'd think we would have been able to go then, right? Wrong. Our captain vaguely referred to "another problem [he] didn't care to elaborate on" and after two hours of waiting they let us deplane. About 20 minutes later I started hearing rumors about cancellation. Then began the mad cell phone dash to try to get on the phone with a ticketing agent so we could avoid the hideously long line at the ticket counter and get transferred onto the next flight. They announced that our flight was cancelled AFTER a bunch of us had already switched our tickets and had known about the cancellation. So lame. Seriously, never fly U.S. Air if you can help it.

But, for as hellish as it sounds I wasn't really bothered by any of this. I was able to roll with things pretty well and found myself content to just sit and wait. I also got to make a few phone calls which can sometimes be hard to find time to do. So, 12 hours after leaving my house I finally arrived in Phoenix, exhausted but okay.

Once I got there I had a really great time. One of the best things was when I realized late Friday afternoon that I hadn't been wearing my watch most of the day and I'd spent most of the day in absolute ignorance about what time it was yet I didn't care at all! That's something that's very unusual for me, so I was so happy when I realized how much I'd been able to let go of any agenda.

Now it's 9:50 pm on Sunday night and I've been trying not to think about all that lies ahead of me this next week. It's going to be nuts, absolutely nuts. I am so glad I had this weekend to recoup before all the madness starts. God's grace was so evident to me this weekend in so many little ways - the ability to stay calm and patient, gorgeous weather, the beauty and fun of friendship, time to stop and pray, amazing food, church with no responsibilities this morning...the list goes on. And I think the biggest grace was the ability to see the grace itself. I feel like one of two things happens whenever I go away: I either totally lose my grip and fall apart because I lack my daily routine, or I totally thrive and am open to God in new ways because I lack my daily routine. Before I left I was so afraid of the former occurring because it's happened so many times before. Thankfully, this was a weekend of the second option, and I'm hoping that the refreshing and lessons of the weekend overflow into the upcoming days and weeks.

overflow

It's been a good week. A very full week, but a very good week.

[don't] entertain us

I'm not totally sure how this is going to come out, but I'm just going to try. This is one of those times I really wish I knew more people in my profession because I would love to bounce these ideas off someone who is facing similar dilemmas.

Anyway, here's the run-down:

This afternoon I visited (with several people from my church) another church in town. In fact, it may very well be the largest church in town, at least one of the largest. Anyway, this church is pretty well known in the area and is definitely the only church doing what they're doing. What do I mean exactly? The church that doesn't look or feel like a church. Multiple venues, professional lighting, staging and sound equipment, two coffee shops, ultra high tech. I was talking to their tech guy and he said that on their last staging set up they had something like 12 projectors in the worship center. Most people in the world aren't aware of how much a projector costs so let me just tell you, ballpark is around $2000. So there's obviously a lot of money and manpower going into the ambiance of this place.

When I'm surrounded by technology like that I feel several things. First, I'm a little jealous because there are obviously a lot of very creative and very technology savvy people at that church that I wish I had at my disposal. That's not to say we don't have those kinds of people, but we don't have them in that kind of abundance. However, my second feeling is one of discomfort. Honestly, I'm really turned off to that kind of environment. I've tried it. It just leaves me tired. Here's the thing, I know we're in a changing culture and that you've got to speak a language that people understand. However, what if the values that culture is espousing aren't worthy of being emulated? What if a technology driven, fast paced culture runs in contradiction to the values of orthodox Christianity? What if I'm tired of clean-cut, have-it-your-way, flashy, picture perfect, and just want something real....something genuine? I'm not saying these people aren't genuine and I know this church is doing a lot of good and a lot of people who wouldn't normally attend church are going there, but I'm just left with a lot of questions after seeing their facility and hearing a bit about their church this afternoon.

I wrestle with this stuff. This is really hard for me. This physically burdens me. I am so afraid of what the American church could be turning into. I don't want the American church to be a Christianized version of American pop culture. Things have got to go deeper than that. I'm just so weary of it. I guess I had my fill while I lived in LA, I don't know. What I do know is that I don't find that attractive at all. I don't want to be an audience member, I'm already one of those often enough. I don't want to be entertained, I have access to entertainment 24 hours a day. I want something different. Something I can relate to, but different nonetheless.

Does anyone hear what I'm saying in this incoherent babbling?

mia

I can't believe I'm saying this, but, is it really that hard to meet a guy who is mature, has good character and isn't socially awkward? It doesn't seem like many requirements. I'm a little frustrated.

oxy moron

If you've been following the news at all you know that the Supreme Court has asked the states to suspend the death penalty until they figure out how procedures can be changed to ensure that it is administered in a way that does not constitute cruel and unusual punishment. Here's what I want to know:

How is killing someone not cruel?

It seems a little oxy moronic to me to say that there can be a humane way to kill someone. The death penalty does not make sense to me on so many levels (ethical most of all).

you are the sun

When I first bought Sara Groves' album Add to the Beauty one of my least favorite tracks was no. 3 "You are the Sun." Well, a couple months ago my roommate and I went and saw Sara Groves perform live in San Francisco. The first song she played was "You are the Sun," and my feelings about the song have been different ever since. Needless to say it's now one of my favorites.

In light of that (no pun intended) it was a privilege to perform that song this weekend with a woman from church at our women's retreat. It was a small group, just 20 of us, but it was deep with meaning. The theme of our retreat was darkness and light, and we spent a lot of time meditating on Scripture and sharing our experiences of darkness and light. It was a great time of honesty and many people opened up and shared deep struggles and profound moments of God's intervention in their lives. Though it was really weird to be the youngest person (by far) there, once I got over the initial discomfort I was really able to enjoy the wealth of wisdom these incredible women had to offer. For me the weekend was really so much about 'sitting at the feet' of these wise women and learning of them.

We did lectio divina three times throughout the weekend and our pastor's wife had such an awesome reminder for us before each time we did it. She was saying how sometimes with lectio you can have these really profound moments and really feel like God has spoken something, but other times you don't feel any thing at all. She wanted to reassure us that if you have one of those times where you really don't sense anything going on that that doesn't mean that nothing has happened. Prayer is transformative, so even in the times that seem mundane and unfruitful we have to trust in faith that somehow God has mysteriously done work on us in that time. And in that way there's really no pressure, because regardless of whether you 'get' something definitive from the time it was still time well spent. Any time open to God is time well spent. And that's so much of what I've been learning lately with my mantra of "anything is better than nothing." Reading Scripture at all is better than not reading. Praying anything at all is better than not praying, even if it's just a sentence. And it has made a difference. I really do believe that somehow in the midst of our opening ourselves - even just a little -God is pleased. And even though I don't feel His presence that doesn't mean He isn't there.

wake up

Tam tect. There is a test...tonight...in my Russian class. We're supposed to have one every week, but up until now they've been cancelled each time. It'll be fine. I'm actually more worried about staying awake in class tonight. I feel like I could keel over right now. I hope the allergy medication I just took was non-drowsy. My nose has been running like a faucet today.

anywhere

The last month or two I've tried to be more aware of the different times and places I see God on any given Sunday morning. I started thinking about this a little harder because I realized that it just might be the case that I can never really fully engage in what's going on during the service because I have too much to think about logistically. I'm too wrapped up in my responsibilities and what's coming next to really live in the moment. While that's unfortunate, I had this great realization (with some help) that there are other places and other ways to encounter God. That's really helped change my mindset on Sunday mornings, especially when I start to evaluate and become critical of my own ability or inability to connect.

The last few weeks I've found myself more engaged during rehearsal with the band, especially during its very beginnings when we are running through our first song or two. The song is more fresh at that point. It's the beginning of my day and these are the words and notes I pour out. This Sunday however, that was not the case. There were a couple extra things that I had on my mind that really distracted me and I spent most of the morning feeling like I was having an out of body experience because I was so disconnected from everything that was going on in the service. It's okay. Sometimes that happens. Sometimes we've just got to obey and trust that God meets us there too.

After the service I was cleaning up as per usual and my mom was waiting for me because we were going to go to lunch together. As she waited she got into a conversation with our pastor's wife. They were still talking when I finished and I joined in the conversation, though most of it was information I'd already heard from her or her husband during the past week. I didn't have anything to contribute, but I was content to listen. At the end of the conversation we were about to walk out the door and I reached over and gave her a big hug. It was one of those great mutual it's-going-to-be-okay-even-though-we're-not-sure-how sort of hugs. And that was the highlight of my morning right there. God met me in the embrace of my pastor's wife.

It can be anything, anywhere - in the smile of a friend, a handshake, a baby's laugh, a verse of Scripture, a line of a song, a piece of the sermon. This week was a hug. Who knows what it will be next time.

waiting

I thought I wasn't mad anymore. Turns out, I still kinda am. Mad and depressed. Thanks a lot, jerk.

thank you Annie

"The opposite of hope is not doubt, it is certainty."

These words have been ringing in my ears the last couple days. It is good to know I don't have to be certain. I don't have to know everything. There is something holy in grabbing hold, though I'm not entirely sure of what I'm holding on to. Not knowing everything doesn't make me a failure; on the contrary, it's an attitude I'm commanded to have (thus making me a success in a strange, backwards way). That's the gospel, isn't it? The poor are rich, the weak are strong, the broken are healed, the blind receive sight, love your enemies, when you lose everything you gain it all.

Christianity does not deny the brokenness of the world. Christianity acknowledges all the pain, darkness, and messed up-ness of this place and offers, in Christ, a way to see the light. Some say they can't believe in God because of how messed up the world is. I say I have to believe in God because of how messed up the world is. He/She is my hope.

peace

Despite tumultuous circumstances I am feeling good. I am not worried. I've got my equilibrium. I feel like I'm on the cusp of some good things. Mainly I feel I've got some peace. I don't have answers, but I've got peace.

thursday morning

I am very unmotivated this morning. In fact, I am typing this from my bed. I justified my staying here by sending one important work email. I've been awake for a while, I'm just having a hard time getting going. It will happen eventually.

It's been a strange week. A long week. On Tuesday I thought it was Thursday or Friday. Surprises, turmoil, birthday party for the recently deceased, listening, hour long conversation with a beloved friend, tacos, company picnic, an overwhelming 3 hours of Russian. Today - work, clean, baby shower.

Right now I've got seven books sitting on my dresser. Somehow in the course of a few days I went from looking for something to read to having seven. Anne Lammot, Lois Lowry, Brennan Manning, Tony Campolo, Robert Kaplan and a couple more.

This post sucks. I'm just not able to relate what's really been going on in me lately.

theotokos

Tonight I was reminded of the meaning of theotokos. God-bearer - the Virgin Mary. At least I had the theo=God part right. I haven't forgotten all of my education.

Went to an orthodox service tonight. It's a feast day - Transfiguration. At first I didn't know what the heck I was doing. No. The whole time I pretty much didn't know what I was doing. But I started to get the hang of a few things as we went on. The marking on the paper signaling when to sustain a note or to go up or down. How the Orthodox make the sign of the cross - up, down, right, left, feet. The orthodox can sing. They can read music, they have great ears, and they are not ashamed or self-conscious...at least these people weren't. The singing was by far my favorite part and there was a lot of it. I stayed for about 90 minutes and the service was still going. i tried to leave about five minutes earlier, but a very friendly woman who had been helping me keep track of where we were in the music and chants told me outside that in a couple of minutes they would be anointing people with oil and I was welcome to partake in that if I wished.

So, I went back inside. A little while later there was a line forming up to the alter. We went in pairs. It took me for or five times to figure out all the motions everyone was making and to memorize them. Two signs of the cross. The person on the right kisses the image of Christ, then receives the blessing of the oil. As they do, the person on the left (me) kisses the icon, and then receives the blessing. We kiss the hang of the priest because he has been set apart and blessed by God to give this blessing to us. Then we do another sign of the cross, bow to the priest, and then to each other. It was really beautiful.

I'm excited to go again. I really want to hang out with some of them some time outside of church. I'm curious about their faith - what it means to them, how they encounter God, what their journey of faith to orthodoxy looked like (many of them are converts). There were several teenagers and young 20s there. It would be very interesting to talk to them about their experiences.

Many people introduced themselves and asked me, "Are you from the bookshop?" Daniel told them I was coming.

back to school

Russ 50A Conversation for Beginners - Part 1
Beginning oral communication course designed to improve listening and speaking skills needed for survival at school, on the job and in the community. Participate in a variety of pronunciation, listening and conversational activities to improve their oral/aural competency.

It's going to be strange to have homework again. Strange but fun. I am, however, worried about my attention span. I haven't had a three hour class for a couple of years.

degrees of coordination

This morning I decided to go a little bit more on the dressy side and wore some new clothes to church. My new brown pants necessitated a little bit more than the usual flip flops so I had to wear my new heels. Now, the heels are only one inch, but they're fairly skinny, and for me, any heel might as well be four inches.

Just in case you're thinking this is a story that ends in my humiliation, it isn't. I didn't fall or make a fool of myself in any way (though a worship team member did take the opportunity to remind me of the time I set myself on fire). I did, however, by the second song kick the darn heels off because I couldn't move at all for fear of falling over. Guitar and heels do not mix.

the quest

This afternoon I decided to finally begin the long process of getting my various pictures from overseas developed. I decided to start with Russia. So I loaded about 100 pictures from Russia '05 on my flash drive and headed to Long's. Alas, the machine could not find my files. I thought this was because I'd put them in a sub-folder. So I dropped my grandma's for a bit and reorganized the files. I went back to Long's, and once again it would not work. At this point I was pretty pissed. But I decided to move on. I headed downtown to drop off my Russia vocab cds at the library, then headed to Barnes and Noble, one of my favorite places in the world. I've been thinking the past few days (thought it's been a passing thought for longer than that) of getting a Book of Common Prayer. Well, B&N actually delivered, and I found one.

BoCP in hand, I decided to take a little walk down to the Episcopal church and see if I could actually have someone show me how to use the darn thing. This was really an unusually brave mood on my part. So, I made the 1.5 mile or so walk down to the church, and talked to the nice lady in the front office about the book's layout and how it can be used. Just down the street from that church there is an orthodox store. I decided to stop in since I'd never been there before. There were icons everywhere. Several shelves of books, and the mixed smells of incense and candles. Small and very full. I looked at icons for a while, then got into a small conversation with the shop keeper. He told me that they had a little chapel, "the most beautiful part of the store." I stepped through the doorway into a small back room and was amazed at what I saw. The walls and backdrop were all draped in black so the icons could stand out. There was a small table in back with some different prayer books and a bible. Toward the front there was a kind of alter with a few more icons. Candles were burning on either side of the front of the room.

My first inclination was to kneel or to make the sign of the cross...two things I have seldom done. I'm protestant. We don't really do those things...especially the latter. I didn't though because I was too self conscious about the shop keeper coming back in. I wish I had though. At least I silenced my cell phone. It was a holy moment. I have not felt that way in a long time. I walked over to the table and opened a book of prayers. I prayed the first morning prayer. Theotokos. A word I remember hearing out of Okholm's mouth in theology on a number of occasions. I remember it is something about Christ being God (theo). Lord, have mercy on us. Twelve. Twelve times asking for God's mercy.

I am wondering if I should set up a chapel in our basement. Not really, but it is an interesting thought. The studio could work. Incense, candles, icons, prayer books, Bible. Space. I love how three dimensional it is. Each permeates your being in a different way. And the routine of it, the devotion appeals to me. Doing it even when you don't feel it. When I am left to my own devices I seldom make the choice to keep trying; to trust that God is in it, even when I don't feel Him; to believe that something formative is going on.

I am trying to trust that this season will not last forever. And I am trying to understand my role...what I must participate in and what I must be patient with. Trust.

it's still the best

Tonight I am happy. I am happy because I had a nice, relaxing evening at home. I actually made it to the gym (first time in about a month), I got to hang out with my roommates, and the kicker - we watched The Sound of Music. Nothing can brighten my day like Julie Andrews as a would be nun turned nanny turned wife. I still say I would be Maria Von Trap, minus the Nazis.

starting fresh after 11 months?

The blog I am typing at this moment is an example of why my life and work situation can sometimes drive me crazy. Without an office, a time card, any general kind of structure, it is so hard to keep things separated. I've been doing some brainstorming the past week or so, trying to think of ways I can restructure my job so that I don't go crazy and quit. I still love my job, I just need to change the way I'm doing it otherwise I'm not going to survive.

The solution? Internet at church. Office hours. Possibly scrunching my work week into four days, rather than spreading out my 32 hours over 5. The thought of it is wonderful and also a little sad. I'll miss the freedom. But the freedom is also causing chaos and stress in my personal and professional life. I play too many head games with myself. I need more separation. I need to feel like I've accomplished something at the end of the day. I may or may not feel that way at the end of today.

mary poppins and the right to vote

Okay, so maybe I'm just a freak for having a deep moment with Mary Poppins, but hear me out. In one of the opening scenes when Mrs. Banks returns home she's just been at a women's suffrage rally or meeting of some kind. She does this great song and dance about all the hard work they're doing to give women in England the right to vote. At one cadence she sings quite dramatically, "Our daughter's daughter's will adore us as they sing in grateful chorus, 'Well done!'" Which made me first think who would her daughter's daughter be? That would be my parent's generation or thereabouts. Beyond that it made me remember that I have many rights that I take for granted that people have fought for. I count my right to vote as a given. Well, it wasn't. There were women in America who fought a hard fight for that right, and I shouldn't betray my sisters of the past by not voting or taking it seriously. Thank you Frances Wright, Susan B. Anthony, Virginia Minor, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Paulina Kellogg Wright Davis and others.

family

I have had a strange mix of feelings tonight. Joy and sadness and longing all mixed together. Home group was wonderful. I always enjoy every one's company so much, and the baby girls are absolutely adorable. Adelaide was going super crazy during the end of the evening since it was way past her bed time. She kept bouncing between her dad and me, never staying with one of us for more than a few seconds. That kid is the cutest thing I've seen - ever. No exaggerations. This group is breaking down my baby inhibitions. Then it was ultimate frisbee. When we took a break at the end I stood there and watched another married couple playing soccer with their two year old boy. It was dark, but I could see their shadow. Husband and wife, mom and dad and son all playing together. Mom is quite pregnant, but still totally gorgeous. Full of life and beauty. There was so much beauty that I saw today. Families (loving ones) are little miracles. It was so much fun to be around. But at the same time it was so hard. So hard because it can feel so isolating. That is something I intensely desire but do not have right now. And when I'm honest with myself I know I'm so young and I definitely don't want to be married with kids right now. But it is something I want, badly. It's hard to be patient. I think it's even harder to believe that it will actually happen. It can be so hard to trust. Sometimes I feel like I'm already so far behind. I know it's not true. There's so many other things I want to do first. But will I miss my chance? I've just got that longing right now.

sitar, cookies and harry potter

Today was...long. Today scared me. I had so little to do, I didn't know what to do with myself. I fear that the next three weeks are going to be this way. What will I find to work on? Will I do okay with all this solitude? What can I do when I find myself going crazy to help myself? I'm not sure I have the answers to those questions, but my day did end well. Had a great rehearsal involving some sweet Indian music, made myself a batch of cookie dough to dispense over the next several days, and am now watching Harry Potter on and off. Nothing like self-medicating with sitar, cookies, and harry.

shameless

I did something really impulsively this weekend. There is a mixture of shame and excitement - mainly excitement. I want to meet new people. I want to step out of my shell. I feel like this is one way to do it, even if it is a little lame. In the meantime I'm already on my way and meeting new people. What else could a girl ask for?

room to breathe

Today is day #1 of my house sitting adventure. Not that it's going to be that adventurous - quite the opposite really. I've got my parents' house to myself for the next two weeks and I'm really looking forward to it. Today has already been glorious. I took them to the airport this morning, ran some errands on my way home, then got back here mid afternoon. I've spent most of that time fighting off a headache, but now it's gone, there's food in my belly, and I have space to do whatever I want whenever I want. And best of all it's clean. So very very clean.

It's been an interesting week. A long week. The beginning of it brought a continuation of my streak of days in a row crying. I'm not sure what I got up to, maybe 5 or 6. Things finally started to turn around on Tuesday and have gotten better from there. Therapy always helps. It seems that nearly every time I go I need to hear "you're doing okay, give yourself a break." I still need someone to tell me that in order for me to cut myself some slack. I've improved in that area, but I still have a ways to go.

Open windows are interesting things. It's cooled off again this week, so it's been nice to keep some windows open and not be blazing hot and get a nice breeze coming through. But open windows means sound from outside gets to come in. And when my roommate's windows are open and my windows are open I can hear her if she's loud in her room. This means I can hear her and her friends when they are talking loudly and laughing. It also means I can hear her when she is bawling her eyes out. This happened earlier this week. I'd just gotten into a rhythm doing some work things. It'd been a very unproductive day. I could hear her. I didn't know what to do. I felt like a complete ass. I kept working and finished what I was doing. Then I told myself to stop being an idiot and go knock on her door. I am glad I did. I know she was glad I did. Sometimes it's just hard to know what to do. Sometimes it's hard to do the right thing. I was able to do the right thing, it just took me a while.

what's wrong with me

Today I want to run away, but I'm not sure where. At the same time I have a strong desire to not be alone. Still, I'm dreading social interaction tonight. I want nothing more then to head to coffee with a close friend. To sit there, to talk, to laugh, to be. I want to be okay being. I don't feel okay being at all lately. I know I'm needing something that I'm not getting because I'm starting to drive myself crazy. I'm just not sure what it is or how to get it. Or, if I do know, I'm just too lazy or scared to try.

A long way to go

Editor,
I am writing in response to the July 1 article about --- winning the Miss --- competition. Don't misunderstand; I have no beef with pageant winners. I congratulate Miss --- for her hard work and perseverance. The part of the article which caught my attention was the fact that the Miss America scholarship program is the largest scholarship program for women in the U.S.

According to the Miss America website the scoring of the finals is as follows: Composite Score - 30%; Lifestyle and Fitness in Swimsuit - 20%; Evening Wear - 20%; Talent - 30%.

Based on these percentages, well over half of a contestant's score is based on their physical appearance. I understand that this is a pageant and the scoring is much better-rounded than it used to be. My issue is not with the pageant itself, which has given away millions of dollars to deserving women throughout the country, but with American scholarships for women in general. Does anyone else think something is wrong when the largest scholarship program for women in the U.S. is based largely on physical appearance? I hope that puts things into perspective. We've still got a long ways to go.

maternal clock

My mom informed my sister and I today that she is ready to be a grandma. This came after playing with my cousins baby boy and watching the other three little ones run around at my grandma's house. I told her to find me a man that wasn't an idiot and that would be a good start. Then my cousin said "They're all that way. Mine's an idiot. He's off playing dungeons and dragons right now, the nerd."

I'm only 23. I'm going to hold out a while longer.

long days

It's been a long day. Yesterday was even longer. It's funny how the whole world can stop in an instant; how everything you thought was important suddenly really isn't anymore. We've been living in a fog at our house. I know it's going to slowly clear, but for now it's still a bit thick. Day by day. It's going to be a long road.

Death is so permanent. I can't even imagine being in her shoes.

Today at my parents' house it was like junior high all over again...for the third week in a row. I fought this sudden urge to get up from the dinner table. It was like deja vu. Seems to all fit with the "just grow up" theme.

hello bay...again

It's been an interesting weekend. A good one on many accounts. A frustrating one by others. The good - beautiful weather, great fun at the cousin's wedding, a beautiful service at church today. The bad - well...let's just say I've recently been given very good opportunities to learn patience, something I know I've been severely lacking in for some time.

Bad choices are one thing. I can even handle irresponsibility, if you'd just take ownership of your actions. Don't blame it on someone else. Others might be involved, but they are mere additions, consequences of the choices you've already made.

Just grow up. When will you start acting like the oldest?

But when I close my eyes,

And feel you rushing by

I know that time brings change

And change takes time

banana bread

Today was a busy day. I haven't had a day where I had to move from activity to activity to activity for quite a while. I don't mind having one every now and then. In college that was the normal pace of life; now it's something I only encounter sporadically. I think I'm pretty fortunate that way. There is nothing wrong with resting, not to mention that I think we tend to run our lives at much too frantic of a pace anyway. Good ol' America.

Tonight I had a meeting at work for which we didn't really have an agenda. We hung out and talked, shared some highlights from this past season (since September) and read a large portion of a chapter from Marva Dawn's A Royal 'Waste' of Time. The chapter I chose was about how evangelism and worship are two different things. Dawn sets out to define both worship and evangelism and the purpose of each. Then she shows how when we make a worship service into an evangelistic event we do so to the detriment of all parties involved - God is not worshipped as He deserves, worshippers are not taught and transformed (which would enable us to be better at "being church" - our primary witness), and unbelievers are not shown the depths of the faith. Basically, worship as evangelism undercuts both worship and evangelism...the very opposite of what many churches are attempting by combining the two.

It is subjects like these that I am passionate about. It's all about analyzing, philosophizing, making sure we are staying consistent with our values. I want to do things well. Everything we do in worship has implications. Neil Postman says, "The medium is the message." That is just the tip of the iceberg. How can we be faithful in worship? I will spend my whole life trying to figure that out.

It is so easy for me to talk about God, to talk theology and Scripture, but right now it is so hard for me to talk to Him. The past couple days I've been throwing up a number of one sentence prayers. That's better than my general trend of late...and by that I mean the past 9 months or so. All my life I have faced this struggle of knowing about vs. knowing. How can I worship a God I don't know? How can I continue to lead people in worship when I'm not sure if I'm even capable of worshipping? I have experienced God's grace a number of times (an infinite number of times) as He has used me even as I've been unprepared and unworthy. I guess I'm always unworthy, except by Christ. But still, how long will this go on? Something must change, but it cannot be me 'sucking it up.' It never lasts. I feel there is something fundamental I'm yet to grasp. I think it all has to do with grace and my sinfulness. I don't think I really get my need.

Would you rather be valued or loved? I'm still thinking about that. If I want to be valued, I want to be counted worthy - it's about what I do. I cannot come to God because of what I have done. I know that. I don't think I live that.

valued or loved?

Yesterday my pastor asked us, "Would you rather be valued or loved?" I had to think about it to even realize that love was the obvious answer. I know it's the right one, but I don't live that way. I think if I took one of those word association type tests where you have to answer with your gut reaction really fast the word "valued!" might pop out of my mouth. Yeah, there's a pretty good chance of that.

I don't get it. Even though I know it, I don't know it. There is no way I'm ever going to reach the top of the ladder. I'm never going to earn it...and I never had to. I don't think I will get it until I really understand how incapable I am. How far must I fall? Where's the bottom of the well? Will I ever get there?

booze and bowling

Bowling and drinks makes for good times had by all. We had those things and more last night for a little roommate bonding. By the end I think things started to get a little too...well...bonded. Let's just say inappropriate nicknames were involved.

All in all it was a good night for us. Great for the four of us to be together hanging out and having fun. It's not something that happens with all of us very often so it's really great whenever we can all be there.

from the mouths of babes

Today at the children's home a little boy was playing with a playskool castle. He had one of the men decked out with bow and arrows. I asked if he was a knight, and he said no, he's the king. And the king he was! He had a throne for him to sit on. I asked him, "Is he protecting the castle?" and he replied, "No, he's protecting his wife!"

This, out of the mouth of a troubled seven-year-old whose family is probably in shambles. Amazing.

A couple kids were back today - kids that had gotten placements and obviously have blown out of them. Breaks my heart.

opening up

This has been the longest week ever. Add in the fact that it's bloody hotter than hell in our house still at 11pm and I got no sleep last night because it was the same way, and that makes for one cranky girl. Hot weather is not my thing.

Tomorrow is Friday and I'm going to do an hour or two of work and then I'm free for the weekend. I didn't do so great on hours this week. I didn't have much to do and the heat made me super unmotivated as the week went on. From here on out I should have rehearsals and meetings to go to at least for a while, so that will help out a lot.

My roommate had a friend (and former roommate of hers) over for a couple days. She's been out here before and I always enjoy her company. She's studying for her MFT license at Fuller. I think she left today (or maybe yesterday) and I didn't get to say goodbye to her. That makes me kinda sad. Two nights ago I was talking to her quite a bit and found myself more comfortable with certain subjects than I ever have been. My level of openness has increased a lot in the past few months, and that conversation was proof. However, I am not prepared to express these topics to the vast expanse of cyberspace. I know because I just tried and I deleted it all.

I might die

It is so damn hot right now. I need to live further north.

kak dela volga?

Today I want nothing more than to be playing with beautiful children on the banks of the Volga river. Mother Russia, I miss you. But more importantly, I miss your people and your beauty...and the way you make me feel (not going to be pretend I don't have selfish motives when that isn't totally true).

powerless

More people doing things I cannot control. Why are we so blinded? Why can't we so what everyone else can so readily see? We are not purely rational creatures, as much as part of me would like to pretend we are. I'm learning that about myself too. Integration - that's key for me right now. Still, I wish people wouldn't be so dumb and do things that hurt themselves and others.

celebrate

I am changing for the better (in some areas anyway). Today I am celebrating that fact.

I love my therapist. She cusses and she doesn't like George W.

sting and kites

Today I spent a considerable percentage of my work hours charting and practicing Sting's "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You" on keyboard. In my PJs. This is when my job is awesome.

I flew a kite today because there were gale force winds. (I'm not kidding, the power was down at my parents' house for a couple hours.) It was very calming. Exactly what I needed. I'm so glad I have therapy tomorrow.

the space between

I have learned this lesson a thousand times: you never know what someone else might be going through. It could be the stranger in the check out line, it could be your roommate, it could be your best friend. But chances are they have tough stuff going on, because we all have tough stuff going on. We've all been hurt, we've all got our wounds and our defense mechanisms.

This concept bit me in the butt tonight. I found out something that I was totally unprepared for and had to use a lot of energy to hold myself together. Sometimes we just need to mourn. For me, having received somewhat old information for the first time tonight, I still need to mourn. To me, the loss is new. And obviously the loss is still very present for her too. It's just the shock value right now. I don't know what else to say.