Does that make you CRAZY?

On the rare occasion that I am not writing my thesis, can jot down a few personal thoughts... First, I litterally think that thinking will lead to my ultimate demise. I have started thinking myself into a small crisis every once in a while. You know Russel Crowe in A Beautiful Mind? Yeah, that will be me in about 5 years if I keep thinking... Brilliant woman... caught in the prison of her own mind. The headlines will be tragic.

Also, I need to get out of libraries. LHS, CCU, my bedroom... I'm in a library everywhere I go. Oh well, in a month and a half I'll be free for 6 months! Love it. Thats it for now.

Keep Your Commitments.

So the other day something very annoying happened. So in typical fashion, I decided to put it into a blog. Go figure. I was supposed meet with someone to talk about a school that I am considering going to... It could have just been a simple email, in fact that is all that I wanted. But no, this person decided to see if we could get together, then after we set a time, they never showed up. Not only did I not see them, but they never even emailed me to say what was up. NOT COOL. What I have to say is... Keep your commitments. If you say youre going to do something: Do it.

If you don't do it because you care about your friends and people you know, then do it because you follow a God who is continually faithful and continually shows up. Our God is one who always initiates relationships and is always present. God shows up. If you truly follow God, then your life should mirror this. Its hard and sometimes sucks, but tough. Be like the One who loves us even when we don't show.

Deep Mourning.

Hmm. So lately I have been in this weird emotional phase. It began on Thursday, in a Johannine Literature class. Normally this might be a very boring class, except reexamining this book has been a transformative experience in such a delightful way. It has helped me to experience how criticism and intellectual thought about God's word is not a damaging thing. It has helped me build up my faith by doing critical thinking... something I have very much needed lately.

The thing is that not everything read in class has been easy to read. There are some things that have been extremely challenging. For example, we have been discussing when exactly judgement is made and when human choice is final in regards to accepting Christ. Here is a particular passage:

^"For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment:the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light,lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God." (Jn 3:17-21)

There is such love that God would be in the world, yet there are some who will reject God. In the 4th Gospel there is a sense that there have been some within the Johannine community who were once true believers and now have walked away. It would appear that John needed to provide an explanation for this (So says DK). These apostates have made their choice and there is a sense that they are condemned already. This is so scary and pressurizing. It is by no action of God that they stand condemned. The penalty is of our own choosing.

I fell into such a deep mourning for those who have not chosen the Light. I couldn't stop feeling pain at the idea of people I love and care about in this position. I know that it is nothing I can change, but I feel such a heavy burden for the lost. Part of me was feeling this hopelessness. For a brief moment, I was so wrapped up in the idea of condemnation that I forgot the preceding verse (Jn. 3:16). That God so surely loved the cosmos... the heavens, earth and everything in between. That God so surely loved the one who rejects in spite of their sin, that he entered the world to restore us as children of God (1 Jn. 3:1).

I forgot that condemnation is not the heart of God, rather love and reconciliation. That is something not to be forgotten, no matter how deep our color of mourning is.

A Good Companion

I'm currently sitting in a room full of incoming freshman at school. No I did not draw the short straw... yes I am earning a few extra dollars. To explain myself I should tell you that I am proctoring a pre-test that all freshman take before they really get into their degree program. They are really very cute. Almost everyone got to the classroom 20 minutes early, looking frazzled and a little concerned. They are unsure of themselves, not just their actions but who they are and why they are here. This takes me back to when I was there.

No, not the nostalgic fond memories... I'm thinking more like: I cant believe how much has changed. When you study history, you are lucky to have the vantage point of time. From a distance you can decide influencing factors and results. Possibly you can piece together an accurate version of what happened. This is what I am experiencing right now. I am seeing the factors in my choices to come to school and to pick the friends I had, then also why I walked away from certain friends. I can see the road that I traveled to where I am now as if I have reached a peak and can turn around and trace the path through the trees. From below, when you are in the valley it is more difficult to see the next turn because of the underbrush. It feels good seeing how far I have come.

It also gives me hope for how far I have yet to go. Soon I will descend into the next valley, like Christ. But I know that I will be raised again. A friend and I were talking about this the other day as well. She was encouraging me that each choice sets up lots of possibilities. And that no matter where we are, we usually have to start over with relationships, projects, new neighborhoods, children, every time something ends. That change is always going to happen. The risk sometimes is difficult and we can be obstinate and sit down on the trail we are climbing, refusing to move on. Or we can accept that there is another switchback or two before we get to the top again.

It was said to me yesterday, "If we are following Christ today, then where we are 5 years from now is none of our business." And I don't think this means "don't plan", I think we are to interpret it to mean that our journey is much more important now. If you are so worried about the trail a mile ahead, you might miss the root that will entrap your boots a foot away. So take heart, know that you have a good traveling companion, and that many more are traveling the same path. Don't despair where you are now for soon you will reach the zenith and will be able to turn and say, "Look how far I've come."

Respect Your Elders

Today, there was a showdown. I think I may have mentioned something about this before... Occasionally in a Kim class there will be a student (usually male but not limited to) who thinks they can get away with "multi-tasking". Think about right before a sumo match when the wrestlers step into the ring and kneel down. They stare at each other with glints in their eyes. Their manner seems to imply, "I will eat you in one bite." and "You are like a small bug that I will crush".

Now you see, I have a really strong negative reaction to these fights as I do not like to see anyone get hurt or embarrassed. I think partly it is a healthy respect for all and partly a small amount of cowardice. Either way, I have a physical reaction to the... uh... situation. This incident today involved a smart remark or two from the student and a piercing silence from Dr. Kim. I was sitting 2 seats away from the girl in question and I was literally cowering. I had wanted to run, I wanted to scream stop it (at the girl) I wanted to cry a little.

Not one student knew how to react. All of a sudden all students were desperately trying to take down a note or re-read the passage that we had been talking about only moments prior. I have never noticed such a studious class, as that moment. It was terrifying.

The moral of this story: Don't be an idiot. Respect your elders.

Last Night

Last night was a magical night... After two trips to Chipotle and a night walk around Belmar Pond

( and seeing this guy by the pond)

Gracie, Ronna and I went to the library. As it had been closed for a while, we went to a back study room and turned off the lights and shut the locked door behind us. We were sitting there about halfway through a movie when we see a security officer in the window of the study room door. Then the door handle started to shake. "He has spotted us! We're f'ed!" We thought as we froze, expecting the worst.

To our AMAZEMENT, he continued on through the library, not even noticing that there were people in the room. Wow. Fail for him, great success for us!

Here are a few things on my mind:

1. There is a wasps nest in my front door. Not kidding. I kept wondering where the little buggers were coming from... I had to literally sprint from my front door every morning. Now, we ahve put tape over the access holes, yet they are still everywhere. Its a nightmare.

2. I might want to be a Christian councilor.

3. The words of this Sufjan Stevens song have touched my soul. Below are the lyrics. I suggest that you go and listen to the tune. Its absolutely beautiful.

I know you won’t get very far
With the back seat driver in the carpetbagger
With the dagger heart grabber stuck in your car

And the yard is grown to a hilt
And the money spent money spent where it went
Embarrassment, embarrassment to pay for the car

And the man who left you for dead
He’s the heart grabber back stabber double cheater wife beater
You don’t need that man in your life

And you worked yourself to the bone
While the people say what they say
It’s the neighbors anyway
They don’t know what’s good for your life

And I see your head hangs low
In the black shadow, half shadow
Living room is fitting is sitting room is fit for your crying

Don’t be ashamed—don’t hide in your room
For the woman is, woman is the glorious victorious
The mother of the heart of the world

Djohariah Djohariah, etc.

And the time you held to the light
When water ran water ran with the strange attic
And when the walls were wet with your life

And you pushed yourself to the floor
And the spirit went where it went
Hovering discovering uncovering your life, on the floor

And the walls were wet with your love

For the mother is, the mother is the glorious victorious
The mother of the heart of the world

Don’t be ashamed, don’t hide from me now
For the woman is the woman is the glorious victorious
The mother of the heart of the world

Djohariah Djohariah, etc.

Don’t be ashamed, don’t cry in the bath
For it’s the story of, story of, morning glory story
It’s the gloriole that comes to your path

There is a time when the lights will arise
For the mother is, the mother is the glorious victorious
The mother of the heart of the world

Go on! Little sister! Go on!
For your world is yours, world is yours
All the wilderness of world is yours to enjoy

Go on! Little sister! Go on! Little sister!
For your world is yours, world is yours
All the wilderness of world is yours

Go on! Little sister! Go on! Little sister!
For your world is yours, world is yours
All the wilderness of world is yours

Go on! Little sister! Go on!
For you’re beautiful, beautiful
All the fullness of the world is yours

On Being Introverted

I've learned something about myself these past few months. I am extremely introverted. It came to a point last weekend where I was invited to go out. The prospect of having to meet a lot of people and be in a large crowd, made me so wary that I just couldn't entertain the thought of going. Why I had to ask myself?

Was it simply that the large crowds remind me of where I came from, the things that I grew up out of? For I used to enjoy large parties and noise and chaos. I think that this is partially why. But I think a deeper reason for it is the way I come into relationships. I was talking to a good friend about being introverted and whatnot, and I realized, that I put all of my heart into making new relationships. This means after I meet you and decide to be friends, I throw myself into it. This means that I get hurt a lot, and is probably not very healthy. It becomes so uncomfortable for me to meet new people because I don't want to risk all to have a new relationship.

This also explains why I get so emotionally damaged when my expectations of what is reciprocated in relationships doesn't match reality. I expect care and love, and hope from the onset. Even though it is not always possible to receive those things in return.

This also makes me think about the church. It is really uncomfortable for me to go to new churches where everyone knows each other. Or even in a church that I go to for a while, its awful having to meet someone new at the greeting time. There seems to be so little care in these interactions. I have heard many accounts of very introverted people walking away from the church because their needs are not met by such an extroverted family. What would it look like to have an introverted church? What would it look like to try to include introversion into our church ceremonies? How could we the body, acknowledge and meet the needs of the introverted Christian populus?

I've learned something.

Recently, I have had the opportunity to go busking. If you are unsure what that is... thats fine. Look below for a definition:

The funny thing is, that I am actually petrified of being listened to or watched while I play. I am truly and introverted being. I've gone twice, with great success both times. Its hard though becuase I know some very beautiful musicians (boys) who are more skilled than I, who make substantially less money.

I know that women have an unfair advantage in this arena. I simply have to look pretty and catch some drunken man's eye to get a few dollars in the hopes that I'll find him attractive, or think that he is wealthy, or x,y,z. I sit and stare on the street corner late at night when I go and it sucks because to see so many women throw themselves at men (much like how I go out and offer myself through music) with their bodies. It feels sometimes like we prostitute ourselves. I do it with my guitar and they wear their kitten heels. We both hope to get validation and acceptance for who we are made to be, albeit from the wrong audience. It just seemed so lost and hopeless down there. Neither me, or the girl with the killer heels or the girl who literally sells her body is much different. It makes me sad thats is how it is.

That is not to say that it is actually hopeless. As cheesy as this was, my friend Kyle (yes the one who made me so mad) was there, and openly sang about faith. That really helped me I think right at that point where I was brokenhearted for the people down on Market.

Some fun pictures of busking:

This is just weird...

This is glorified busking...

Actually... I am not sure why Mr. Rod Steward showed up when I googled "Busking"... But look how classy he is!

Good. Day.

Today was a good. day. The day started off with an encouraging not from a friend... but then got better. The traffic lights seemed to change as I approached the intersection, my spedometer worked, I even got to take the Gator for a spin today. (The Gator is the large green tractor/cart that Facilities drives around... It goes around 35mph which is awesome.) My friend Melanie was able to get a hold of the RTD Lost and Found... and they found her stuff! Today was a good. day.

Even in the middle of the day, when I shelled out some hard earned money for a guitar, it was a good. day. You see there is a lot attached to owning my own guitar. Its not just a thing that I bought. I taught myself guitar about 3years ago. I learned even though this boy named Ian said I couldn't. I learned in-spite of the fact that I didn't know anything about strumming patterns or chords. It took me 2 years to figure out how to move my hands so I didn't make a wonky sound. It took me another to learn to alter strumming within a song. I am not just starting to learn how to pick out a song. Its been really challenging, and something that I am very proud that I know how to do.

I have been borrowing a guitar from a good friend of mine... A really nice, pretty guitar. Something that looks like this:

As you can see, its beautiful. I have been very blessed. And so, when buying my own guitar, thats a big deal, because I don't usually own nice things. Buying something like a guitar is something that really means to me: "I can play guitar. I can be proud that I have this skill and have worked hard enough to validate buying my own. I am worth this purchase."

So when I bought the exact same guitar, for a lot cheaper than buying it new, I was floored. It is the exact thing that I want. I don't think that even a Taylor would make me happier.

It wasn't until this stupid boy who I work with said one, little sentence (twice) that I was sunk. He must have played my guitar, or looked at it but the moment I walked in from lunch this was our conversation.

Him: "How much did you pay for it?"

(Never a good question I've learned)

Me: "Does it matter?"

(I don't like placing monetary value on things that I'm emotionally attached to.)

Him: "YOU WERE RIPPED OFF."

Me: "No its exactly what I wanted."

Him: "YOU WERE RIPPED OFF."

Wow. It took 3 tiny words to drag this holy grail though the dirt and spit on it. That hurt so bad. It didn't even register to him, that maybe I didn't get ripped off. It didn't register that there might be more to this whole thing than he realized. Man, I don't even think that he cared when it was obvious that what he said was hurtful. This beautiful, validating event was now made low by the thing that was said. Not only did I make a wrong choice, I was stupid and wasteful for that choice. Wow. I just felt so raw.

When I got home about an hour ago, I was still feeling pretty awful about the whole purchase so I decided to play a little so I could figure out why it was such a rip off. So I tuned my guitar and sat down on my floor. The moment I started playing, the sound of the gently strummed strings lit up my heart. The sound I was producing became the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Not only had I learned to persevere in something, I had come so far as to get my own instrument. That was a mountain I finally summited. And I'm smiling as I realize that today, is still a good. day. Its not about the guitar. Thats just something to buy. Its the pride of knowing that God has given me the strength and will to keep doing something hard and impossible. It is the glory of the One to teach me and to humble me. It is the love of the One who redeems all, and encourages me in spite of being brought down low. It wasn't just a thing. It is a small triumph.

the Meal

So, as a continuation on my discourse of freedom... I need to give an up date of sorts. I have a friend that I had commented on, who was in chains. Recently she has experienced freedom. Not a little glance, but full on, over the top, head to toe liberation. We talked a little about it and she emanated joy.

As she spoke, I noticed that the language she used was not that of a conquerer, but that of a slave. It made me think of Romans 6:18 when Paul writes, "You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness". Freedom became not something to be afraid of, or to deny, but it became something completely necessary and unavoidable. This brings me to my thought, that those who have been called to be free, those who are offered freedom and whispered to by the Spirit of freedom, are drawn irresistibly to drink that Wine and eat that Bread.

If we don't stuff cotton in our ears and can hear the sound, I believe that we can all partake of grace. We can truly digest Christ as he offers himself to us. A deeply impactful metaphor, if we have been denying ourselves sustenance. He offers us life, as food. Commands us not to refrain, but to tear into the Meal. For he gives the meal freely and fully. That is the freedom that we experience.

Christ calls us to a life of freedom. Albeit, freedom in a yoke.

A Short Story

Once upon a time there was a little girl who thought she was very strong. She worked very hard to convince everyone she knew, that this was true. She would climb trees and pick up heavy rocks. She would try to have the best arguments and the friendliest smile. She tried so hard to make everyone think she was strong, that she forgot she had any weakness.

One day a boy came along. This boy knew she was strong. He didn't try to compete, and just left the girl alone. The girl was astonished that someone would let her be who she was. And she grew to like the boy. The boy, however, didn't understand the power he had in choosing this path. Soon, he said and did things to make the girl sad, without even trying to. And the girl was reminded of her weakness.

The girl did not die. That would be silly. She stood up straight and told herself that there would someday be someone who saw how strong she was, and also how weak she could be. And there was hope for tomorrow.

Snail Mail

So recently I've found this website, where you find people online and send them mail. Hopefully they send something back. Its quite the idea really. I havent gotten anything yet... Although the website portrays itself as wanting others to do acts of kindness for others through the mail, so far the profiles look really selfish. Its all, "I like this", "send me this", &etc.Even yours truly is mostly hoping to receive and not give. I just sent out 5 pieces of mail, I'll have to see what happens.

Hopefully no one sends Anthrax.

Fellowship

I am continually being surprised by the people who surround me. This past weekend was a very challenging day as a Conference Staffer... A football camp checked in who did not have anything very organized. Really, they didn't know which way was up, and they also were incredibly demanding and ordered us around with an air of entitlement. This was so frustrating to me and after being ordered around all day I just about snapped. The old man leader of the group brought up a communication error (not on our end) very publicly and blamed us for it. This was the last straw for me... They can steal our things, demand golf carts and order us to fix television but to be set up as a ill-prepared team when that was not true, was truly over the line.

I am very fortunate to have such wonderful co-workers. I feel like we have a very honest and caring group this summer to work with. I was talking to Chris about how I really need to work on pride and reacting to other people, like the man from the football camp. He very plainly said that he has the same issue that he struggles with. It was then, very humbly that he brought up CS Lewis. I thought I would share the wise though here:

"I now come to that part of Christian morals where they differ most sharply from all other morals. There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine that they are guilty themselves. I have heard people admit that they are bad-tempered, or that they cannot keep their heads about girls or drink, or even that they are cowards. I do not think I have ever heard anyone who was not a Christian accuse himself of this vice. And at the same time I have very seldom met anyone, who was not a Christian, who showed the slightest mercy to it in others. There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others...In God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself. Unless you know God as that - and, therefore, know yourself as nothing in comparison - you do not know God at all. As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you." - CS Lewis, Mere Christianity

So thank you Chris for your wisdom and friendship.

Sparrows.

I have been thinking a lot on the topic of freedom. In America we have reduced freedom to a childish "gimme" and a patriotic song. In Christianity we also have reduced freedom to this idea of "believe it in your heart" type of thing. Well, what if you are under the freedom that Christ has gained for us, but you live like you aren't. Stay with me for a moment while I dive into a few examples that have brought this whole thing on...

1. SPARROWS. I was sitting in Whole Foods (Wild Oats for those of us who have an elephant's memory) with a delicious breakfast of yogurt, whole grain roll, oj, and a golden delicious apple. What I ate is really not important, but I thought I would set the stage. I have been having trouble sleeping and feeling a little stir crazy. There were deep charcoal clouds rolling in and a sharp breeze drifting in, that stood in sharp contrast to the previous days climate.

The patio windows were open and a sparrow swooped into dining area. After seeing that no crumbs would be dropped, the tiny bird decided once again she wanted to be free of her surroundings. This is when she swiftly flew strait into a pane in the garage door style windows. You see the sparrow swooped under a half open window and in the process lost sight of that fact. When she was tempted with being lifted in the spirals of cooled air, in haste and passion she made a move.

After watching the sparrow hit the pane several more times, I decided that I did not want this bird to hurt herself any longer. In stead of flying back down, out of the way of the glass she could have left. But her sight was so set on the prize (which was a splendid thing she was built for) that she was repeatedly flying headlong into danger. Long story short, I asked the nice cashier to open the window further, hoping to remove the horrid obstacle which had impeded the little bird.

2. I know a girl, struggling with a thorn in her flesh. I know she desires freedom and yet she will not act upon that. I shall call her Jane for the story's sake. Jane has made this confession (not in a negative sense) of this invisible set of shackles that she wears and yet, she says that she does not want help, or accountability. In fact, I believe she would even ask us to help her in her slavery by ignoring the lengths of chain she wears. I has shackled me to her, by burdening my heart. How do you love someone but ignore their bonds? You can't... The love and knowledge that God has imparted to us impels us to act. So if I am impelled, how do I act?

Freedom, as you can see, is not so black and white. Sometimes we give up our freedom only to decide to return to it but hit a pane of clear glass. Sometimes we acquire a false freedom, not ever realizing the difference. Other times, we long for freedom but simply lack the will to fight for that. I am coming to realize that here in this life, we are never free. The bondage of others chains my heart. I must not act in complete freedom so that others will stumble. This is life, it is a constant flow of freedom and slavery. And so, we work, constantly towards the freedom we find in Christ.

An Interesting Dream

The dream, began at least what I can remember of the dream, in a mountain town. (It was a town that I had been in another dream before). I was walking, alone trying to get back to my group. I remember thinking that we were in Scotland. I kept walking to a pier where I had to walk on floating pieces of wood, much like a tightrope. I got out to the floating island and was talking to some women and a Russian man and my mother. I had an idea that we could stay an extra day so I could visit Edinburgh. The ladies on the island remarked that it would be closer and faster to go to Holland. So we began walking on the water tightropes and I took a shortcut, but realized as I looked back that my mother was sinking and fully submerged. I went in to rescue her (and amazingly she could talk underwater). I asked, “Are you all right?”, and she replied, “I can’t breathe!” So I pulled her up until we surfaced for air.

We surfaced in a school (which I had previously dreamed about) and I left my mother behind. In this part of the dream, I was carrying something like a backpack, and trying to hide. I needed to get to a bathroom and I needed to be alone, but there were people everywhere. So I never got to one. At one part of the dream, I was in part of the school that there was a lot of bullying going on, I was asked who are you and I said, “I’m a blood!” (See CS Lewis’s Surprised By Joy). So I was able to leave. The school was then mixed with a private log home, where I was still looking for a private bathroom. After I found one, I found a friend and she drove us out of the school in a big black SUV.

I am not sure when I was not in the SUV or how I got to where I was next but I had been to this place too. It was a big, gothic basilica type building and I needed to save the world from this ferocious beast (very dragon-like). I had done this in a dream before because it was like playing a video game for the 3^rd time. I knew what to do so I did it super fast. I climbed up the tower, always moving around on a different side (because the dragon was pursuing me). The dragon had razor sharp claws and a hideous face with flaring nostrils. I took this triangle thing out of the tower and stored it in my hoodie pocket. I needed to put it somewhere else in the structure so the dragon would be able to be destroyed. So I did, but it broke as I put it in my pocket. I am not sure if this affected the final outcome….

I called out for someone to bring a sword (much like in the 2^nd Harry Potter) and Christine came out and threw it up to me, but I couldn’t land a fatal blow on the dragon, only 2 blows to the leg. This seemed to do the trick however. A few minutes later, I had come down to the throne room of the building and saw someone evil getting coronated after the dragon lost power, so I killed him but not without getting stabbed in the gut first. And as I lay there dying, becoming weak with every breath, I saw a man transform into a dragon and begin to gloat that I did not win this time because I didn’t finish the job I started to do.

A Metaphor

I haven't written in a while, probably because I have had lots of things to do in the great outdoors. I have decided that I learn more about God from simple things like gardening than many other ways. But more on that in a bit. Right now I want to describe my Saturday night. I am sitting a a coffee shop downtown called Leela's and watching this group of highschool students. There are so many of them. Its interesting to look at their faces and see the hope or discouragement. The desire to hook up with the boy theyre sitting next to or the look on the boy's face when he doesnt understand why the girl is acting like she is. Its hard to look at this group too. I wish I could be part of it and be talking to them and telling them all these wonderful things they should know... that they really need and want to hear but just dont. But I can't. Its really conflicting feeling.

I was thinking today about weeds, mostly because I spent a good two hours pulling them (and trying to get a tan). These weeds live, unwatered, planted in the most unlikely soil. They are growing where, a good seed could fall and get swept away. To reverse the analogy, we should be like those weeds. Even they can grow in the most adverse conditions. Christians need to be planted with our tap root deep in this barren seemingly desecrated wasteland who is Christ. Trusting that we will not be uprooted and those seeds that flower into seductive blooms get swept away. Sometimes it seems as though Christians have now become those easily blown seeds, and I don't believe that is the way its supposed to be. Further we should multiply like those weeds.

Now the metaphor only goes so far, as all language can only go to a point. Weeds, by design, multiply and steal the needed water, sunlight, and nutrients that good plants, the ones that are supposed to be there need. Weeds by design are not in the design of the gardener. It is necessary to prune good plants so there is growth, and also to pull weeds completely to give the new growth more room. SO you can see my original metaphor can only say a certain thing, but can say another in a whole other way.

We can even ask, why would God design weeds in the first place. Maybe this is a discussion to be saved for a quieter time. I'll get back to you...

In the Dream World.

I've been having these weird violent dreams lately. They haven't been scary but they are quite out of the norm... Let me relate a few of them for you.

1. In the dream I was hanging out with some friends in a mall type place. There was someone who wanted to lead me to a place so we began walking though all of these tunnels that were destroyed or falling apart. I did not know the guide, however I could tell that she was someone not to be trusted. I could feel something evil about her. As we moved through these dark and shifty passages we came across a large room and I found a small boy who was hiding. I instantly knew that the Guide was looking for this child and he needed to stay away from view, but at the same time, he would not be left behind.

As the Guide was leading me back towards the place from which we came, we came across Nathan W. and I was starting to be a little fearful so we walked closely together as if we were one person. All the while we would distract the Guide from the boy's movement or else we would point out places for the boy to hide. The entire feeling of the dream was this pressure filled, thrill and a fear of discovery.

2. In this second dream, I was in a place that felt like a movie set of a town. I could tell that it was not real yet that did not stop everything from feigning true qualities of a true location. I was in a target when all of a sudden I realized that there were these strange space people who were coming to destroy the city. I was yelling and announcing to everyone what was about to happen and so everyone was running around trying to find some place to hide. I grabbed my friend Ronna's hand and we booked it into the break room. I just remember a lot of shouting and seeing Lindsay and covering all three of us with a bean bag chair from the giant monster that was smashing the building in over us.

If you were to combine these two classic monsters... that's what the monster in my dream would have looked like:



When the monster was finished destroying things (for that was his only purpose) and left the city we came out of hiding and decided to go eat dinner. We went to a steakhouse and met a bunch of friends there. This was weird, I thought the waiter was flirting with me so I decided to go and talk to him. He said to me, "Its your birthday! you get to throw a knife and an axe at this sign and if you hit it and it sticks then your meal is free." I did not want to throw it because there were people surrounding the sign. There was so much pressure and I realized that it was something that I had to do so I threw the knife and it bounced off and didn't hit anything. Then I threw the axe and it didn't even make it to the sign but straight into a waitress's foot and cut off her toe.

There was a whole commotion after that and I ended up missing my bus, only to have to walk home. The feeling in this dream was semi-chaotic and pressure filled (again) and confining.

3. In this dream a friend named Phylis lived in a giant house and I didn't know where it was. Then she texted me and asked how Sadie was and that she'd be home in a day or two and I texted Phylis back asking where her house was because I didn't realize I was supposed to be dog sitting. I made it to her house and was there about an hour and a half, when Phylis came bursting in, mad that I wasn't at the house. She were telling me that she was only going to pay me 5$ and I said "I don't even want your money but if I did I would expect 8$"

So that's that.

Another Letter

Here is another letter I found written about 10 months after I wrote the first letter I posted. Its a little juvenile but I have found that everything you write is that way once you've outgrown it.

Dear you,

I know you want me to trust you. You should know that I want to very badly to. Let me tell you a story that might help you understand why it takes so long for me to give my entire heart to you. It’s not an excuse but a plea that you will be patient with my scarred heart.

It started almost 9 months ago when I met someone who I loved very deeply. Unfortunately for me, he chose to break my heart into a million pieces. I am not going to get into the messiness of the whole thing because I don’t think you want to hear that all. From that I began guarding my heart, well not really guarding, but saving my heart. I, unconsciously learned that the more I trusted, the more I loved, the bigger the pain was when I was crushed and left alone. It’s a lot like the whole having a dog thing. I have learned to carefully analyze the cost and benefits of a relationship. This is not fair, and it’s a habit that I am learning and really trying to break.

God is really been the person putting me back together. For the first time, possibly in my entire existence, I am ok with being “alone”. I am not saying I want to be, but if that’s what it takes I am willing to follow that path. I know that God has big plans for both of our lives. While that is not necessarily holding me back, it does come into account. It’s one of those things that I question and that bring me doubts. I am sorry and I know that it is really hard for you to get to know me because often times, I am a fortress. It really will take time because that is the only way I will be able to tell if you’re for real. But we do have a long time to figure this out.

I can tell you that I really like you. You are a really good person and the more I get to know you, the more I can see you being in my life. I think at first I was really careful about you because I cared so much about the kids that I wanted to make sure you were legit. But now that I have seen you, I know your heart is good. I am sorry I have such high standards. But you haven’t failed at any of them so far. I know that I already said that I didn’t like you, but I hope you’ll ignore that. I will also never let you read this because it’s silly, and the way I piece together my thoughts in a concrete way. I have never communicated in a better way. But I am chicken to give people these because then they will never forget the things I’ve said. But I’ve decided to start letting you in.

Yours Truly,

Me.

A Little Thought

Where we are, is not where we have always been. The tricky thing about living in history is blindness to one’s own situation. It is like living with a hand in front of one’s face. The hand is culture and family ties, and personal interpretation of all that passes over the senses. The hand is dreams, desires, hopes, failures and pain. We are so set in our way of thinking that all we can see is what is right before us. In different lights and moods our hand looks different (especially as we grow older and start to see lines and wrinkles) however we can only see as if in a tunnel. If we begin to put into context that our hand is connected to a wrist we must move our hand away to keep seeing more. Suddenly there is an elbow, and then we look down and see our feet, a strong foundation. Our perspective shifts when we realize that we not only have a hand but that it works with so many different parts to allow movement, or stasis.

Where we are is not where we have always been. As we study history there is cause for rejoicing. Our particular vein of Christianity, a stream of Protestant, Evangelical, pop-culture-informed, Christianity is not the only way to follow Christ. We must remove this hand to discover what lies just after the wrist. If we were to take a survey of the Christian past we could see our rich faith more clearly. I like to think that as Paul writes, “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (1 Cor. 13:12) We can apply this even to our study of history. That by finding our fathers and mothers we draw closer to the kind of faith that sees completely

Although there has been much advancing in our understanding of Biblical interpretation and theological conversation, we cannot simply address the good without a healthy balance of bad. The modern criticism and confluence of philosophy, world cultures and globalization in combination with almost a century of war left our parent’s generation in a dangerous situation. The possible outcomes were a state of apostasy or the therapeutic moralistic Christianity that is prevalent today. In one stream we have the destruction of faith an in the other, a distortion of it. In either case, we are at a loss when it comes to figuring out our own identity. Greta Scacchi said, “I have done everything I can to make sure my daughter knows her father because you form your own identity by rebelling against your parents - but first you have to know them. “ The past 5o years or so have disconnected us from our fathers, and we are having a troubling time forming our own identity.

This potentially impacts the way that we function in roles. We discussed in class the need for mentors as well as rites of passage. Without the passage into adulthood (whatever that looks like) we do not feel quite as enabled or allowed to grow up into the great things that are set out before us. This is to our downfall. The church has in the past been a leader and a full family for the fatherless. We are left with such a sense of loss and disparity. We are left to the freedom of creating our own traditions and standards. This is not to say that we have lost all hope. This is why diligent study is necessary. Our fellow humans are at a loss. They have such differing ideas of truth, and many are lost in the sway and tide of popular norms. Some of our fellow Christians believe but are on a state of tottering faith, not knowing why they believe what they believe.

This is why we must study historical theology. Not only do we discover a rich history of influences that have lay under the radar that need a closer examination, like a foreign spider to the naturalist, but we find reasons for drawing into the way things which have unfolded. We must study history, like a child to see our parents and form our identity in comparison or contrast to what we see. Our praxis and doxa must be informed by our history.

In American post modern culture I would argue that we have too much freedom. We have our practices set so varied among structures that have no form. A stanza in a poem by AR Ammons reads,

if the web were
perfectly adaptable,
if freedom and possibility were without limit,
the web would
lose its special identity:

Like the spider with the perfectly adaptable web, there are simply too many different webs that we are weaving to really identify what species (identity in relation to community) we are. No longer can we look at the things the church does to identify it with the greater whole. We have lost historical witness. There should be a greater emphasis, not on correct liturgy and practice but on catholic liturgy and pillar-ed tenets of faith (such as baptism, communion, and confession). In the canon we see such beautiful diversity and rich unity. Our church should be the same way. We should turn, with historical example to a church that has the diversity that we have, but also unified in our familial and communal history as a part of God’s continually unfolding story.

When we understand the value of our historical faith, not only do we look past our hand to see a wrist, but when we realize that we are standing we look beyond ourselves to the horizon. There lays a brilliant sunrise, milky and vibrant, we have no choice but to take a deep breath and wonder what part we play in this grand scheme. We are put into humble context as the followers of a beautiful Creator-God. It is not our story, rather we reflect the chronicle of God.

The Shift

The day I saw

you were talking

to some younger boys.

In bold contrast

it was you

who were wise.

There was a shift

and in perspective

the veil lifted.

I knew you

as someone to know

the deep and shallow.

I desired you

to know my

self.

Say What You Need To Say

Recently, and I am unsure as to why, I have had this surge of emotion, triggered by people or issues Theology. Usually these emotions are like a surge of anger, or frustration or just this desire to be contradictory. I don't think, however, I am just trying to argue or be contradictory for no reason. I feel like I must be wrestling with something really powerful. Here is my attempt to hammer this out. I must apologize because I feel like I must not suppress this.

I believe a large part of what I have been feeling had stemmed from a conference I went to with a bunch of boys. I call them boys because I just see so much growth that needs to happen. I was accosted by pride and testosterone and this wall. By wall I simply think of something that you talk at, yell at, push around but it never moves. I don't think I was listened to the entire weekend. I would ask a question, not looking for a sermon, but that is what I got and they wouldn't listen to objections or the things I had to say. Then when I got home it just seemed like the same thing but with different friends. I wanted to talk about how great some of the conference was and how frustrating other parts were, but there was no one to listen. This made me especially notice when on Monday night last week I tried to tell a friend, who asked what was wrong, and after I told him he switched the subject to some stupid thing about Complementarianism, completely without a point. Sometimes, I just need someone to listen. I have things I need to say and just a friend to listen and not chime in right away.

Then, in a lot of my classes this past week, I'll need to say something, but I just don't, I am not sure why I don't just say what I need to say. Then I was very rudely asked, "Why are you talking?" in a very heated discussion. This hit so closely to this silencing that I have either done to myself, or unknowingly, people have done to me.

When I do attempt to speak what is on my mind it comes out just so horrible. I am angry or mean and un-compassionate. I hate that. But its just this surge of feelings because I will not be silenced, and I fight against a lot of things to be heard. But I also like to listen because I know that I don't know best. I know that there are many things to learn and if I am always talking then I cant ever see that. There is a humility in remaining silent, but there is also humility in understanding when its time to speak. And that is something that I must learn to distinguish better. A time for everything the writer of Ecclesiastes says.

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven--
A time to give birth and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.

~ Ecclesiates 3:1-8

Safer

Safer

It is safer in the knowing.

Here is unsafe.

It is not the know but the unknow.

Where I am upside down

Beside myself with fear

The unknow is not dark but light.

A different kind of confusion.

The safer place may be found

But the key to the dark is lost.

Organic Bits

Organic Bits (9/1/09)

Insects floating and organic bits illuminated
as moving lace, bolted across the brilliant close of day
A gentle breeze playing the summer melody,
making the lace dance in spiraled reels
And my heart finds peace with the timeless flow of life.

DOMINATION.

A catch phrase this past semester as I delve into the waters of feminist theology is domination. I have experienced this word over and over again in readings and have begun to understand the implications of a Christianity that has domination of some in a hierarchical scheme. While I understand that our entire system is built on a method of leadership and social constructs that rely on one person being the "head" and the other person (or people) being the body, I simply do not think that the dominating of any part of humanity is Biblical.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear. When there is leadership that requires another group of people to be submissive, either unwillingly or willingly because of innocence, that incites fear and the possibility for our tendency to exploit good things. Domination stems from this idea or concept of "better". "I am better than x,y,z." or "You are better than me because x, y, z." These things lead to this degrading of ourselves, or of others. Which must come first. Well I think Jesus was the first to upend the idea of first and last within the Kingdom. I think that it would be along the same vein to now discuss the idea of not first and last or better and lesser, but equals. Equality demands that there be no domination by mutual and complete submission to one another. I think as we move back toward the wholeness of the Kingdom, we will need to see this equality, with only Christ for Master. He is the only one deserving.

I think if we look back to the Israelites we can see the same thing. This idea that the people group wants a leader, a king instead of the Almighty God. It was humanities need and desire to be a nation like every other that established a king, that could not live up to the way that a true monarch, Like the Godhead, could rule. I don't think that any part of humanity was made for dominion.

I see this infiltrate even my relationships. I had a friend recently take something of mine, that I had in fact given freely when he had asked. He decided that he needed and wanted more of this thing that was mine, and so he took it, establishing his control based on the necessity of the object. I returned to where he was and saw what he had done. What I did not understand was why someone would want to put themselves above a fellow Christian. If we truely were all equal, both among the classes, races and genders, would we still have this want? Is it simply so ingrained in our human nature to grasp at what is not ours and try to control that which does not belong to us? I cannot but hope that there is room for redemption in the human (both male or female.) WE must continue to strive for this perfect love to drive out all the fear that sin insinuates within our experience. If my friend was not afraid that I would not give him more than he would never have taken without asking. This of course is just a minor illustration in the grand scheme of things to bring it to earth.

Another thing to think about is something a friend of mine, Nathan, said in a class. It is so tragic when the dominant hierarchy on which we base our lives on falls apart. A lot of time we associate this with the problem of pain, and evil. I am thinking that it is more than that. I think that this is an indication of how our assertion of that hierarchy being correct is untrue. Maybe the failing of our systems of power fail because they are not true and real structures that God would have in Her kingdom.

These are just my thoughts as I experience the word.

The Silence

Ok, right now, I am experiencing a great amount of silence. Not a literal silence, but a great internal silence. Usually my thoughts are running around a mile a minute inside of my head but right now its as if they've hung up their track shoes and have their bunny slippers. I'll be trying to have an intellectual conversation, or just think deeply about things and its as if I zoom out to the big picture and everything blurs as if I just took off my glasses. And then there is stillness. Its been a beautiful thing: a gift in itself. In my stillness I am allowed by whoever it is directing my narrowed focus to dwell on things in a different light.

It is a peace that can look on tempests and not be shaken, to quote a little Shakespeare. I think that this gift has given so that I can look back on the relational pain that I have experienced this past year and understand why there are those things in life, and how I shouldn't be afraid of them. I am reading this book right now called Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale. In the part that I am reading, it is talking about how truth is silent. It is the great awkward pause before we can frame truth with words. The expecting of ourselves for the answer, then the receiving and digesting of that framing of that silence.

This Gospel must be tragedy before it can be redeemed. On the cross, Christ experienced this absence, this tragedy of knowing how far apart God is from us. "[He] shares with us the darkness of what it is to be without God as well as shoing forth the glory of what it is to be with God." I think that darkness has been what I have been going through. I see how far from God that I am but how Gods-self is continually finding me. This is why I am given the gift of silence. To understand through the absence the tragedy in the Gospel, even if it is only a fraction of what others experience.

And for that I am truly thankful.

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, the truth;
Where there is doubt, the faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled, as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
- St. Francis of Assisi

Just An Old Letter.

This was written several years ago. In the effort of allowing myself to be heard, I decided that I would publish it, even if you aren't my intended reader. You might not understand it.

Dear You,

I do not understand you. I can barely write the words to describe what I think about you. You are complex and smart, too smart for your own good. I think that you have found that putting your heart into another person’s hands is hard and it takes a lot of trust. I think that you must have had your heart broken very badly for you to be like this. I can’t tell if you are afraid of being loved or afraid of the risk. I think that you also fear things falling apart and crashing down around you. That hurt is terrible too. I think that is why you sabotage the good things in your life. I think this is why you mess up. It’s not because you can’t do well, it’s because you are afraid of people knowing that you messed up and letting them down. You can’t let people down when they don’t have high expectations, right?

I think I scare you. I like you very much and you know that. I think you also know that I have high expectations. There is nothing safe about me to you. I have seen the way you look at me. I hate you for that because now you are saying different things then what I think you really mean. Your silence, when I question you, is a betrayal that stings. You asked me for a chance and it’s not the first chance I have given you. And it’s not the last. I know that because I also know that you are so much more worth being loved than you think you are.

I don’t understand why you would pick me to do this to. I didn’t ask you to want me. I didn’t ask for your attention. I have found that I can get by without you. But that’s not what I want and I don’t think it’s what you want either. When I tried to get over you, the way you acted betrayed your feelings. I asked you why you didn’t call and you asked, “What happened to the dude?” I don’t think that would have been your response had you not wanted me too. Before that you distanced yourself. Why? You acted like you wanted to be just friends, but I don’t want to be just friends! And that’s why you sabotage everything. I don’t think that you’re going to fail. I don’t think that would be possible. I gave you me, why can’t you do the same? I trusted you, why can’t you trust me? As long as things remain unspoken and confined to your house when your roommates aren’t home you are fine.

I am really mad at you but I know that every time I see you or talk to you or am completely honest with myself when I think about you I know that my heart is invested in you. I keep trying to get over you. I wish I didn’t have to try. You see the thing is, I’d rather be heartbroken than to not have known you. But I’d also rather not be heartbroken. Why would you ask for me to give you a chance? Why wouldn’t you take it? I can’t wait for you to find someone you trust enough to give yourself to. You’ll finally learn that all the pain and expectation and fear and trust and hope is completely worth it. You’ll understand what I was offering you and I hope you regret the way you abandoned me. By then it won’t matter because you’ll have forgotten all about me.

I want this to be a goodbye letter but I know I won’t send it. I know you’ll never read it unless, that is, if you find a way to trust me. Then I might let you in a little more. The door is cracked because you knocked once upon a time. I’m not sure you remember doing that. All you need to do come in and start taking off your coat. That might be a lame metaphor but it’s kind of how it is. I think you’re better than how you act and so you should know that I give second chances, and third chances. Actually I’ve never denied anyone any sort of chance. I like you and that is why this is so hard. But I need to protect my heart right now. If I let you have your way with it right now, I won’t have anything left. I wish it was different. When you weren’t sabotaging me, you never let me down. I wish you weren’t afraid. I hope someone finds a way to heal you.

Love, me

It’s not everything because there are a lot of good things about you but I think this is what I needed you to hear.

Hokay. I have decided that this blog thing is hard to keep up with! I don't know if it is just because I have a hard time finishing something I start or if I just don't have a desire to put all my cards on the table all the time. So the things that will be written about today will be. 1.) My winter commute. 2.) "Lets grab a Beer" 3.) Disappointment.

Incipe! (Begin! in Latin)

1. So I live about 30 minutes from where I go to school. This is fine in the spring and in the early fall when there is no snow on the ground. Occasionally, during the winter here in Denver we will go for a week with temperatures in the 60's. This is a great week of driving for me... Here's why: If I'm really good, I can time it so I hit every green light and avoid all traffic. Really, its wonderful. 2 weeks ago I got to my 8AM in 15 minutes... Ok, I was speeding too, don't tell anyone. The problem with the rest of the time (when its not sunny) is that apparently, even though it snows here ALL the time, people in Colorado actually forget how to drive. This past week, a drive that on a mediocre day takes 30 minutes took me an hour and a half. The last 10 minutes of the drive were the worst. There are about 3 stoplights several hundred yards apart from eachother... it took 40 minutes to get through all three.

Really people. You live in Colorado. Wake up, get a car that is not front wheel drive and get out of the way! Maybe I am being unfair. But I don't think so.

2. So I had a fight with a friend. And its really awkward now... Like one of the pictures I posted earlier. So we finally decided to fix things. This is what I am picturing:

I am not really sure why... Other than the fact that we are having a beer tonight. Neither of us are black, or a world leader, or old. But thats what its going to look like, mark my words. I think that I am really learning what it looks like to not just give up or dismiss people who aren't easy to deal with. I think that really by seeking peace and restoration and trust, I am seeking a small part of the Kingdom. I hope that people will take this risk for me too because its a little scary, although I am not sure why. Maybe I'll tell you how it goes.

3.) Why do girls get so disappointed and hurt from hope? I recently had friend, lets call her Shakira (she would enjoy that.) So Shakira and I have had very similar experiences in the dating realm. For both of us it takes a lot to open up and trust someone enough to have hope for something to work out in that relationship. She recently had begun to have this hope for a boy. The boy openly encouraged it and there was promise. Boys why is it that you play with our hearts. Do you mean to? All it takes sometime is that little bit of attention... the bringing of a muffin, the glance, a soft touch. Its not all your fault though. We realize it. That is not the topic of this part of my thoughts however.

What I really want to know comes out of us, women. Shakira said to me, "The worst part of this is the hope that I allowed myself to have." Since when is having hope ever been a bad thing? We have attached this idea of hope for deep love, friendship and "knowing" with relationships. I think that truly, at least for myself and possibly for Shakira as well, that we don't try to protect ourselves from hurt, but from hope. If we never hope we can never hurt. We see hope as the enemy. WOMEN. I sit here in front of my computer today saying, hope is not the enemy.

What it we attached hope to how we even have any of it? I think if we realized that hope is the result of the reconciliation in our relationship with Christ. The only reason we can have relationships with others. We must attach our hope to him instead of this faulty thing that is still in the process of being redeemed. To have hope is to be resilient and resistant to all things that seek to hurt us. Sometimes we may be touched by them, but to give up on hoping is a clear denial of our faith. To lose hope is the breaking of our souls and the ignoring of all things that are good from the Redeemer. If we listen to what we tell ourselves about relationships, that HOPE is our enemy then we will never see that HOPE is actually the remedy.

Thats all I have to say for now. I was just thinking about this stuff because it feels so common to our experience.

Pax.

A Hidden Door

Carl Jung said once, "The dream is a little hidden door in the innermost and most secret recesses of the soul, opening into that cosmic night..." and this is what I have to say today: last night I walked through a hidden door. This was my dream... and I will perhaps tell you a little bit about it.

In my dream, I experienced a desire to go for a drive. So i got in my car and had a bunch of friends in it, way more than I could actually fit in my Honda Accord. We decided to go up to Clear Creek and jump in the river. I was beginning to want to be alone while I was driving, without all of the extra people in the car so I dropped them all off at the river. As I was driving, it was a sunny day and the windows were down. I began to realize as I was coasting down the beautiful hills and valleys of the mountains in the summer time, my breaks were worn down. This was not a scary feeling. I knew that I could slow down, however, I could not fully stop.

I wasn't really alarmed but I realized that I really needed to get the brakes fixed so that, just in case, I could stop. I pulled into the next town and somehow coasted to a stop. As I walked through a municipal building I passed court rooms and weddings, nurseries and the the motor vehicle department. I didn't exactly know who I was looking for but it became clearer and clearer to me that I was looking for someone. I knew that whoever it was could help me fix the breaks so I could come full stop. I looked and looked and couldn't find him so I left the building and got back into my Honda. We started driving around again, and again, I had a strong desire to put on the breaks and make the ride stop. Not because I was afraid but because I though it was something that I should do. I got out again and was looking for the boy once more. I had this feeling that even if I found him, he wouldn't want me to fix the breaks. So I got back in the car and started driving once more to pick up my friends. That is the end of the dream.

What I think I need is in many ways, is someone steps up and rescues me sometimes, whether its listening to me complain about a girl I work with or filling my tires with air when they are low. I think I need someone who I can trust not to let up on the breaks and coast through the valleys and the peaks with, and trust that everything is going to be ok.

The Beloved

Ok, so, usually I don't admit to watching silly television shows, in fact, I only watch 2 of them. Both, (and I can admit to you only because I already told you some dark secrets) are really girly and neither require thought of any sort. One of them is the Bachelor. Now see I am watching the show right now, on rerun and thinking... This is what our dating standards have come down to. Not that every girl is dating 5 guys or vice versa, but this has become acceptable and applauded by a large female audience.

If you don't watch the show, right now, the bachelor, the pinnacle of the average man, is visiting 4 families this week. What is funny, is that one of them has made the comment, " I don't want him to love me right now, I just want him to think I'm unique and special." The mom of the said (gorgeous) woman had also said, "I just hope he is the one to heal her heart and whisk her away." This got me thinking of course.

Along the same lines, I was having a somewhat satirical conversation with some men in the Caf, which simply means we were being extremely sarcastic. The conversation in question was centered on why men are all such jerks and women are so crazy. While bantering, I said, we (women) run into the arms of the male chauvinist simply because we are looking for attention and they are clearly the only ones who are willing to give it to us. Why!?

I think these correlate into one and the same thing. There is something broken in us, ladies, that needs healing. And the more we try to be healed by someone who is not the healer... the more the symptoms of the wound are treated, and not the wound itself. A speaker I heard said something similar: "Its like putting a Bandaid on a gunshot wound to the chest." Its not just going to be alright if we let people like "The Bachelor" keep trying to heal us. What we need is living water, and unconditional love. There is none that can give these things to us but Christ. Instead of turning to the Giver, we turn to mediocre ass-holes, and maybe all of them aren't that bad. But we turn to them anyway, not for love, we have come to regard that as unattainable, but for the feeling of being unique?

There are 20 women who make it onto the first round of the Bachelor. All of these women are gorgeous and special and have huge holes in their hearts. Whether these holes are from fathers, mothers, or past boys, they have them and it is tragic. And the rest of us watch their pain and struggle as they strive, not for love, but for being special. That is the saddest thing I have ever seen.

If someone reads this, and you're a woman with a scar or an open wound, you are beautiful and you are the beloved. Thats it for now.

When We're Friends

So what happens when you are completely honest about everything that is troubling you. What happens when you are honest even if it is in confronting someone? If I was to consider how I deal with conflict, I would say my fighting style looks more like running away sometimes. Often, however, I am left hurt or mad for a long time. Its not good to let the sun go down on your anger. So I stepped up. I had courage and I confronted someone last night. Now what I thought would come out nice and calm, really came out in a spastic and harsh manner. If words could be a picture, I would have sounded like this:Honest. This is how I sound when I don't a. think about them b. plan on saying them. At confrontation time last night, I both, didn't think about what I was saying, and didn't plan on saying what I did. Which brings me to the other part of this complex thought I am having...

Now that I have made a huge fool of myself while trying to call someone else out, I feel the time had come for an apology. So thats what I did. Now imagine this painfully awkward drive home. I in the driver seat, him in the passenger side, and complete silence spanning the distance between us. Yeah, it might have looked a bit like this:

Or... this:

So, in short, thats what confrontation looks like when you become friends with me.