LIFE lessons//2012

my mantra of “with all my heart” faded in and out of my year.  I struggled to remember it at times, I struggled to live it a lot.  but I always longed for it.  i wanted it.  i wanted to do life with my whole heart, no matter what I was doing.  even when it was making a latte for a rude customer, or cleaning up another puppy accident, fulfilling another bridesmaid duty, being a patient teacher, loving when it seemed impossible, trying to meet that writing deadline, or waiting….enduring this seemingly forever waiting, i wanted to do it with the best of me, all of me.  i remember countless mornings sitting with my prayer partner at school, saying “pray for me to find balance. I want to do all of it with my whole heart. that was my prayer and the cry of my heart this year. though i was tired a lot and grumpy a lot.  i was worried much of the time and often felt sad.  in the same vein, I was happy a lot and I was beyond blessed to find what I had been praying, hoping for, and dreaming of for so long, well, to finally be doing it.  this year I became a teacher and from that experience i've learned that...

becoming a teacher does not look the way I though it would. that does not negate any gratitude and joy that i feel in doing it though. No matter what, I am thankful to be doing what I'm doing.  

a lot of this year was spent learning time and time again, through a multitude of situations, and a culmination of chaos and calm, that i cannot, no matter how hard i try, scheme, attempt, hope, pray, practice, or whatever, i can never ever be perfect.  it'll probably take a lifetime before i finally truly accept that.  the beauty in that battle of perfectionism, is that i find when i falter, or mess up, there is always a fresh start right around the corner. i can always begin again.

"adventures" and "experiences" are the best parts of life...a road trip, those endless drives to l.a. for this thing or another, going on another first date, seeing the band you madly love, sharing the truest parts of yourself with someone else, enjoying laughter, being in the moment, letting go, waiting, praying, sitting on the beach, walking alone, all of it, all of these things hold their own special joy and sorrow.  joy and sorrow can be held together.  and there is something special in that.  there is something special in my experiences, and i wouldn't trade any of my experiences for anyone else's or anything else.

somewhere along this year i lost the joy of reading.  reading became this chore that i didn't ever want to start.  my shelves sagged with these unopened journeys waiting to be taken, constantly calling my name, but never did i begin one in a real heartfelt way.  and finally i can say i miss it. i miss those places and people i haven't even met yet.  i miss those words i haven't yet chewed on.  i miss them, terribly.  and now i'm ready to take many journeys, and make new friends, and fall in love, with those people and places that have just been sitting there, patiently waiting for me.

about mid-june a friend of mine asked me, "how's husband search 2012 going?"  i couldn't remember what i told him to make him think that was my goal for this year.  i smiled, and shared with him the guy i was currently seeing, the guy i was trying to force myself to like, and just couldn't.  i still don't know why.  he was so very nice.  so very sweet, and yet so very dull.  nothing about him really excited me, inspired me, challenged me, or interested me.  i realized that this search for "the one" couldn't be calculated or contrived.  i can't force it.  i can't make it happen in my timing.  but i am open to it, i'm surrendered to it, i'm filled with faith about it, and i'm not trying to make it happen, i am just living my life...come what may.

creating.  this is what stirs my soul, moves my body, ignites passion, uplifts my spirit, and drives me to press on.  i love creating stories in my head, and putting pen to paper.  i see an image in my mind and putting paintbrush to canvas is just so life giving.  this urge to create connects me to the loved ones i've lost.  this nurturing spirit inside of me for the art of words and the beauty of art satisfies my soul in a way that perhaps, a person never could.  creating words that flow together, creating a mash of color that evokes a particular emotion, it satisfies me.  i worship in these outpourings of creativity.  i pray in the words.  i sing in the colors. i feel every part of it.  the movements, the honesty, the authenticity of it all gives me purpose.  thank you God, Creator, for giving us the creativity and the ability to create.

as this year comes to a close, these lessons could read like a list of gratitude.  truly it is all something i am so thankful for...a realization, a renewal, a new beginning, a refresher, and a reminder.
and all of this, every bit of it, causes me to look toward 2013 with great hope.  there's only room for growth here.

Jesus & Christmas//A Red & Green Glow

I’m one of those people that loves Christmas, like really loves Christmas.  Before Thanksgiving I am listening to Christmas songs.  By Black Friday I’ve planned what Christmas show/movie I will watch when, the decorations are already down, and I am crafting my Christmas gift list.  And just a few days before Christmas, I am my truest self. Frantically trying to get all my last minute shopping. baking, and decorating done, all the while listening to Christmas music, watching Christmas specials, and obsessively checking my bank account to make sure I am still on track.

What happens to change every year is the part of Christmas that hits home for me.  Sometimes it’s a different song, or a portion of Scripture, or maybe a theme, a new recipe, or even a new movie.

Last year was special because I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” for the first time with my mom on Christmas Eve.  I had my first taste of rum and eggnog, and I had my last Christmas with my beloved kitty.  Yesterday I found a picture of us together on Christmas morning, and I wept, thankful that it was a moment captured.

The year before, I loved the song, “This Christmas.”  My dad did too.  We were on a mission to find every version possible, determined to find the best one.  We’re still looking.  

In 2009, I started the tradition of reading “Little Women” every Christmas.  And I began awaking early before the rest of the family, curling up on the couch with a kitty, and watching Little Women, with hot coffee in hand, and the Christmas tree lit up.

The year before that, my mom and I began attending Christmas Eve services at  Journey.  I love the effort, and the unique way that church presents Christmas.  The first year this group of ladies performed a dance to “Timeless” by Kate Havnevik.  It was so beautiful.  I just remember being in awe, and to this day, I still remember each graceful move.  So much a demonstration of the grace of God shown in sending His Son to earth as a babe.

Pastor Ed always explores a different aspect of the story of the birth of Christ.  It is so non traditional, and I love it.  It opens my eyes to see the depth and the true feeling in this story.  It feels so real in the present, rather than just being a piece of history to be reviewed.

This year I am exploring new parts of Christmas.  I have been infatuated with “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”  For some reason, this song, this year, has affected a different part of me.  As I researched the history of the song, I had no idea it was introduced by Judy Garland in the musical Meet Me in St. Louis.  I love how important the song was for the soldiers serving in WWII.  I love that this is a Christmas Song that has special meaning, amongst many Christmas Carols with an even more special meaning.

This year I am also looking at the story of the birth of Christ differently.  I am ashamed to say, that as I was teaching my International students about the story of the birth of Christ, I failed to realize an important difference between the gospel of Luke’s telling, and the gospel of Matthew’s telling, in specific regard to the difference between the shepherd's story and the magi's story.  Perhaps I had realized it at one point or another, but I found myself lumping their two stories together when truly there are vast differences.  What I found to be so amazing in this story was the faith of the magi.  The shepherds, like Mary encountered an angel, well they even encountered a multitude of angels telling them of the birth of Christ.  While the magi, trusted the guidance of a star, and traveled thousands of miles to come and meet their Savior.  Their faith moved them in a significant way.  So amazing!

Today Christmas will be simple, as it almost always is.  A day spent at home, doing simple things, enjoying simple things.  Perhaps what marks this Christmas of 2012 is a little bit of sadness.  One can't help but think of the many precious lives lost recently.  Those far away in tragedy, and the ones nearest, while less tragic, still hold their own sadness.  But in sadness we can find comfort in who we still have around us, and in the One we celebrate.  His coming to earth, incomprehensibly as man.  His coming to earth to feed the hungry and satisfy the thirsty.  He came to bring us Words and Life.  That is something joyful to celebrate today and cherish.

A MUSICal History//MY CALIFORNIA

Life is often defined by music.  If I think back on the last 15 or so years of my life, each year I can remember definitively by the music I was listening to.  It has had such a profound influence on my life.  Thankfully, my tastes have changed over the years.  But that is not said to negate any goodness from the music I once loved.  If it wasn’t for Keith Sweat’s “Twisted” I would never have been able to endure my middle school crush on Maurice.  If it wasn’t for Hanson, who else would have adorned my walls in jr. high thanks to the centerfolds and pin ups from BOP magazine.  N’Sync was the topic of most of our sleepover discussions freshman year of high school.  And how else would I have endured boring Chemistry if I didn’t have which Backstreet boy would make a more suitable boyfriend to ponder.  It was always argued that Nick Carter was definitely the kind of guy you could bring home to Mom, while A.J’s piercings and tattoos might freak Dad out a little too much.

But then I grew up & so did my musical tastes.

I went through my country phase.  In a moment of devout abandon to my Christian faith I felt the need to purge my music collection entirely of any non-Christian music.  For a year I only listened to worship or Christian themed songs, intermixed with some classical pieces.  I thought God would be proud of my musical tastes.  I only wanted to listen to songs about Him.  But the truth was I missed the other stuff.  I missed the melodies of folk tunes.  I missed the instrumentality of bluegrass, I missed the poetic lyrics of love gone wrong, overcoming hardship, having a crush, dreaming about another life and land, or just a simple love song.  I began to realize that if music wasn’t polluting my mind, why couldn’t I listen to it?  So slowly but surely I began to integrate the artists that connected to my heart and soul back into my collection, and yes, even some Britney and N’Sync remain there.  I think God cares about what we think about.  It’s not so much what we listen to, as what we listen to causes us to think about.  I want to think on things that are lovely. (Philippians 4)  And that’s what I believe my music collection contributes to.

I’d like to say my music taste has become more refined over the years.  I suppose maturing does that to you.  The last four years specifically have been very defined by music.  Since 2008 I have become an avid concertgoer.  I fell in love with live music when I began going to Nickel Creek shows.  Something about the instruments, and the voices, the emotion and meaning behind the songs, really come alive when they are played live. 

And I have seen some amazing live shows.  Coldplay, Dave Matthews Band, Mumford and Sons,  The Shins, Punch Brothers, She and Him, The Swell Season, Mates of State, Joshua Radin, Greg Laswell, Ingrid Michaelson, Sara Bareilles, Lucy Schwartz, The Weepies, Mat Kearney and Bon Iver to name a few.  I feel so blessed to be able to attend shows, some of which have honestly changed my life.  I can’t help but be amazingly inspired by the creative, intense, emotion and feeling that is brought out in song.

And when I fall for a band, I fall hard.  I mean, head over heels, crazy love.  There are few bands I would include, in what I call my heart home of music.  That is a musician that somehow always seems to create music that touches the deepest parts of my heart and soul, and carries me through the good and bad.  The Beatles are probably the foundation of my heart home.  They are the first band I ever remember listening to.  They have steadily remained the music that is the most meaningful to me.

I officially met the Dave Matthews Band in college and it became a serious relationship real fast. And I've lived my dream of seeing them thrice.

When I discovered Mumford and Sons in early 2011 I knew it was going to be true love.  And it still is.  I never tire of those voices, those lyrics carrying me through deep pain, and oh my goodness, that passion.  I saw them live a month ago, and it changed me. I wept through “The Cave” and smiled through every cheeky remark, every heartfelt lyric sung, made the biting cold, the four hour drive, and sitting in the nose bleed section worth it.
and hearing these lyrics sung before my very eyes, well, it was just perfect.

The best part of music for me is defined by the place I live, the great state of California.  I haven’t always loved living here.  In fact, for such a long time I was so determined to leave.  I wanted something a little less sunny, a little less warm, a little less, well, California.  But somewhere in the last two years or so, I’ve found myself loving this place more and more.  Sunny days, ocean, mountains, forest, trees, dreams, long stretches of highway, bustling city life, to small town quaint life, famous people, to the secret homes of writers.  So soooo much culture.  Everywhere.  L.A. being just a two-hour drive away.  San Francisco, a short flight, or a long day drive…it’s all here, at my fingertips.  Sports, entertainment, literally everything, and all of it themed around song.  All of it has some sort of musical memory attached to it.

Joey Ryan’s “California” takes you on a beautiful drive through the coastal parts of Central California.  Sarah McLachlan’s “Silence” accompanies my drives across the long stretch of the Interstate 8 on gray days.  Rainy Saturday mornings, with my bedroom window cracked, and the shudders open just enough to let a little dim light in is set best to Dido’s anthems.  I find Radiohead’s “All I need” dominating my iPod on my evening walks in January.  On Valentine’s we visit Balboa Park,  peruse museums and listen toJosh Kelley’s “Special Company”.  When I am reading on my bedroom floor, Nirvana’s “Come as You Are” just feels right.  On my frequent drives to L.A. nothing is better than Coldplay’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head” & "X and Y"  A hike up cowles mountain, or a walk around the lake requires some Iron and Wine or The Beatles.  On that early morning drive to Starbucks, nothing can calm my soul more than some Vivaldi, or Chopin. And when I’m headed to the beach, driving up the I-5, the most suitable tunes are by that San Diego surfing band, Switchfoot.

Music holds such deep meaning for me.  I hope everyone can have a special connection with it or like it with something. As I am driving the long stretch of Friars to Genesse to work on comes this tune, and i think to myself:

This. Is. ABSOLUTELY. beautiful.

Overcoming Perfection

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One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott wrote, “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.”  I can attest to this.  Perfectionism is oppressive.  I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to be perfect…and of course, failing miserably.

I met Jesus on my bedroom floor in 1988.  I was reading a book called “My Best Friend Jesus.”  In this book was a picture of Jesus, literally holding the world in His hands. He had a tear on His cheek.  The message on the page read something to the effect of our sin makes Jesus sad, but because He loves us, He forgives us.  This message taught me two things. Jesus loved me a whole lot.  After all He died for me because He loved me so much.  And I also learned that I didn’t want to sin, because sin hurt Jesus.

Thus began my mission in life, instilled in me at a young age, to be perfect.  Perfection has taken on many different forms, from being neat and organized, to getting straight A’s, to being the peacekeeper among my family and friends, a people pleaser to the core, always trying to be the perfect…whatever role I was playing.  If I could control it, it or I had to be perfect.   

I thought I was doing my best to follow Jesus in my perfectionist aims.   The self-talk that came out of my failures to attain my perfectionist standards was pretty horrible.  Things I never would imagine saying to my worst enemy, I was telling myself constantly.  And worst of all, this soon became how I felt God saw me.  Never consciously aware of what I was putting on God, his identity in relation to me was angry, disappointed, or displeased.

I went through my teenage years perfecting my perfectionist ways.  When I graduated from high school I wanted to continue on with a Christian education, and I decided to go to a Christian college.  I began my freshman year undecided about my major, but my path quickly shifted during my first semester as I was taking Intro to Psychology.  I soon declared my major studying psychology and Biblical studies.  I was hungry to know God more and I wanted to combine these two subjects and become a marriage and family therapist that brought Biblical truth and values into relationships and families.  My college years were filled with interesting classes, great friends, weekly chapels, church, counseling ministries, leading the women’s ministry on our campus, and a special boy.  Life felt perfect, for a while anyway.

Towards the end of my senior year of college, I found myself, like any other college senior stressing and fretting about my next step.  What would I do out there in that big girl world?  I impulsively decided to apply to a masters program in counseling psychology.  To be the perfect student, a grad school education had to be my next step.  I graduated college and one month later started my master's program. 

And soon everything that felt perfect in my life came crashing down.  Two of my  grandparents, that been the heart of my prayers for years to come to know Jesus, both received cancer diagnoses, facing their last days unsure if they truly knew Jesus.  A dear friend struggling with drug addiction took his own life, I found myself forced to let go of a man I thought I would some day marry, and $25,000 and a year and a half into my grad school education, plagued with the feeling of my own imperfections, and not being good enough to become a counselor to others, I decided to drop out.   Everything that I was trying to be perfect at, I failed at, and every imperfect part of my life that I was trying to suppress imploded on me.  Life was suddenly so messy and imperfect.

My perfect dreams and my perfect plans; every perfect ambition faced their disintegration which ultimately unearthed in me such deep self-doubt and feelings of unworthiness.  It took awhile before I was finally able to admit the worst to myself and to God.  I don’t feel worthy of Your love, to be loved by myself or anyone else, I feel lost and depressed, I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.  These were big bleak issues I never thought I’d deal with.  I had no other choice but to walk in this pain.  I couldn’t force perfection on anything anymore.  But in this pain, I really began to see and know who God really was to me. He was compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love and faithfulness.

I began to develop an intimacy with the Lord, a companionship that was consistent.  As this relationship developed and deepened between me and my Lord, I began to learn to take my eyes off of myself and what I thought I should be, who I thought I should be with, and what I should be doing, and fix my eyes on Him more and more.  I felt as though God was leading me to remove my life of shoulds, and simply embrace Him and trust Him wholly that He would lead me in His way, free of my shoulds.  I began to ponder and pray over what my next step was.  What did I have a true affinity for?  What held the possibility of bringing purpose to my life?  I remember telling God that I wanted to be a teacher and I wanted to be a writer.  That prayer felt like an unopened bud.  For once it wasn’t about rushing into something to be relieved of feeling imperfect.  I sat with those two desires.  I held them in my hands and then I gave them over to God.

Perfectionism still steps in from time to time.  I have these certain inclinations and impulses, but more often now under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I can catch myself.  This deep life-altering struggle with perfectionism was like a catalyst for good things, for God things in my life.  Nothing happens in my perfect way, nor my perfect timing.  But everything happens in His.

Instead of living for the goal of my own perfection, I live my life focused on the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 3:12-15 states, "I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.  So let’s keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you’ll see it yet! Now that we’re on the right track, let’s stay on it."

remembering john lennon.

taken in NYC Central Park

the night john lennon died i wasn't even born yet.  in fact, my parents probably hadn't even considered my conception. on december 8, 1980 john lennon was murdered.  i've probably noticed this day since i was about eight years old.  something about john lennon captivated me at a young age.  he was by far the most interesting beatle.  i always wanted to listen to the songs he had lead vocals on, much to my mother's chagrin. (she's only ever been a mccartney fan!) 

despite all the controversy he stirred up, and even though i may not agree with everything he ever said and did, his amazing contribution to music history is by far one of the greatest.

i think that this article sums up the lennon memory best, as we remember him 32 years after he died.

creative inspiration.

i just think he is amazing. creatively inspiring, indeed.

someday//part I

i was having lunch with a friend the other day.  we were both picking at our salads, quietly enduring a lull in the conversation, when my eyes fixated on his.  i quickly alerted my friend to this dreamboat sitting a few tables over from us.  with a soft kick to her leg, she too looked in the direction of my gaze.

"wow."
"mmmhmmm."

her face was flushed.  we tend to have the same taste in men.  dark hair, dark eyes, that manly kind of beard that it looks as though he could grow over night.  a red plaid shirt that perfectly complements his medium skin tone and gives him that mountain man appeal. and those hands, those really good sized hands, the kind my own "unsmall" hands could get lost in. sigh.

he catches us looking, and we both quickly look away in our all too obvious fashion.
we look at each other and giggle.  for my friend, the moment has passed.  she has already brought a new topic to our lunch time chat.
but i am still smitten with mountain man a few tables away.
i push the grilled chicken and romaine around in my bowl, keeping my eyes lowered.
i'm counting the seconds before i steal another look.
damn, too soon.
he catches my next glance and smiles.

oh gosh.
i set my fork down in shame.  he will not see me take another bite.  my friend has already resumed picking at every last vegetable in her assorted salad while i have reverted back to my jr. high self, in which the rule was, "never let a boy see you eat."

my friend looks at me exasperated.
she has already picked up on what is going on.
"you're not done." she declares softly.
"i'm not hungry anymore."
"oh jenn, he's not that cute."
i look at her with one of those c'mon seriously faces.  the kind, after years of friendship, she understands the meaning behind.
"actually...he is. he is definitely the kind of "i can't eat in front of him" cute.  i know i am being ridiculous, but honestly, i can't help it."  i say this all in a whisper as i inconspicuously observe where his gaze falls.  i turned my eyes back to her and gave her my most innocent puppy dog face, silently pleading with her to entertain my immature plea in this moment.

she drops her napkin onto the floor to turn and catch another look at this god sitting only two tables away.
i cringe with embarrassment.  my friend has a very unafraid flirtatious quality that has always drawn men in.  even though she's the married one, i find myself praying to God he sees the ring on her finger and that it automatically nullifies any interest he may have had in her instead of me. stupid girl stuff. ugh, i feel despicable. we're always plotting away at how we can get our own way, and constantly in a comparison frenzy. who's prettier, who's thinner???

"okay he is that cute." she clarifies this new observation way too loudly for the quiet non busy setting of our lunch date.
he smiles at us again.
oh god i have to get out of here. 
the only feeling now i can grab onto is that all too familiar mortification in jr. high when my frenemy chelsea p. told bobby g. i had a crush on him.  the next time he saw me in the hall after this piece of information had been revealed, he looked at me like i was the most pitiful creature on the planet and stated, during a busy passing period, in front of a large group of guys that had crowded around him, that he would never like a girl like me.  i never quite figured out what that meant, though i've given it way more thought than it deserves.  bobby g.'s rejection still haunts me, all these years later, whenever i find myself attracted to someone.

"go say hi."my friend interrupts my sad memory lane train of thought.
"oh yeah, because that is so my style."
"oh geez. when are you gonna grow some and talk to a guy you think is hot."
i ponder this.  i have a real sense that i never will muster that courage.  unless of course i was intoxicated.  and generally i believe intoxication is probably my most unappealing state. though i wouldn't really know, as it hardly ever happens.
"uh huh."
"c'mon, just do it. i'll give you...a dollar."
"tempting offer."
"maybe he'll come over here."
"i don't think so."
"you never know. he keeps looking over here."
"you don't know where he's looking."
"well, if he knows what's good for him, he would be."

i resume forking at my expensive chicken and greens, as his red plaid fills my peripheral vision.
why can't i be that confident woman who just walks up to an attractive man and says hello? i am such a timid creature when it comes to men.

"do you suppose we've ever had this kind of affect on a man?"
"probably."
"yeah?"
"well, probably not in the exact way your thinking it.  guys aren't as spazzy as us."
 "spazzy, indeed."
"i'm sure it has happened more times than you know."
"well, if that's true then that would mean they lack as much courage as i do."
"men."
we share an agreeing laugh.
but i can't help but wonder if it really is true.  has a man ever been attracted to me in the way in which i am attracted to this lunch time stranger.  attraction is most definitely a strange and wild thing. it can't be helped really.  it just seems to happen.  you can't plan it, or expect it, or force it.  it can be so completely overwhelming and so very forgettable.  but what does attraction ultimately lead to? a conversation, a date, a relationship, a marriage, or nothing more than a few glances across the tables.  i have been attracted to so many men in my lifetime.  most of whom i have long forgotten.  i've gotten to know men and have become attracted to them, when initially i wasn't.  but i've never experienced a lasting attraction.  the kind that remains through the course of a relationship, or a crush that never dies out.  eventually attraction fades.  what do you have then? i always wonder how married couples maintain that attraction to one another.  it must be possible.  but i can't help but wonder if it is possible for me. someday, maybe, attraction will lead to something more.  someday maybe, some man will find me as alluring as i found this plaid wearing bearded stranger to be.  someday, maybe me and some wonderful man will build on an attraction something that lasts for life. someday.

future husband, know that i am a shy and timid creature.  if i seem terribly uninterested, know that i very much am.

a forest of forgotten tears.

sometimes it comes from the words of a song, or a walk under an autumn night sky.  it can come from a hug, an "i love you," or a sermon. somehow it comes.  that moment when you feel reconnected to life.  maybe you never even realized you were so disconnected.  i surely didn't.  i just keep going, and don't even realize, i'm not really feeling anything.  i'm just shut off, because all I am doing, is doing.  i miss being.  i miss feeling.  i miss connecting.

this song has awakened my heart.  i feel as though i am reconnecting to myself.  my feelings are beginning to come to life again.  i want to be awake and aware to the movement of God in my life.  i can't stand numbness, and busyness.  i never purpose to find myself here, and yet, somehow i always end up being in this disconnected state of being.

i suppose busyness gets the best of us at one time or another, and it feels like the perfect excuse to shut off.  i stop feeling.  i stop being me.  it is almost as if i become no one.  it is as if my heart and soul is absent from my being.  thank you God for using a song to wake me up.  thank you for these words causing me to stop and listen.

all the shadows

all the shields

all the voices

they stir the field

we gotta lift our eyes to the dawn

through the forest of forgotten tears

let it all out

let your guard down

let it fall down

and rearrange again

it's a reconnection.

thanksgiving//what i now know.

"I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union." ~Abraham Lincoln (October 3, 1863)

there are many things i tell myself are true about me.  but the truth is, most of those things, just aren't true.  they tend to be things i tell myself to excuse myself from doing things i don't want to do, they are things i tell myself to comfort me in poor choices, and then there are those things i tell myself that are just plain hurtful.  things i would never say to another.  but i believe these hurtful things as if they are truth.  i am learning (painfully slowly) to focus only on the things that are unchangeably true about me.  for example, i am a female.  i am an adult.  i am tall.  i have dark hair and dark eyes.  i am an introvert.  i am a citizen of the united states of america.  i am a christian.  and with that last truth comes a myriad of truths about myself that are not from me, but from God.  God who made me female, with dark eyes, and dark hair.  God who gave me great height and an introverted personality.  God who designed me to be born a citizen of the US.  God tells me I am His child.  In Him I have all these things: He chose us(me and you) in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love, having predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the Beloved.  In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace which He made to abound toward us in all wisdom and prudence, having made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His good pleasure which He purposed in Himself, that in the dispensation of the fullness of the times He might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth—in Him. In Him also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestined according to the purpose of Him who works all things according to the counsel of His will, that we who first trusted in Christ should be to the praise of His glory.  In Him you also trusted, after you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation; in whom also, having believed, you were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, to the praise of His glory. (Ephesians 1)

when i consider what i now know, i cannot help but be thankful, truly thankful for so many things.  thankful for who God is, and His Son Jesus, and His precious Holy Spirit.  i am thankful, i am known by Him.  i am thankful that i can live my life to know Him more.  i am thankful for His truth in His Word.  year after year, even day after day, these truths seep into a deeper place in my soul and heart.  i am thankful that i am a citizen of the united states of america.  even though our country seems to be headed into an immoral and wayward direction, i am thankful for the history of our nation, the role our country has played globally, the leaders who have led us, the military who fights for and protects us, the flag and what it means for us, the freedom, the fact that we still have some value in our nation that says, "in God we trust."  i am thankful for who i am and how God has made me.  i am thankful for maturity and getting older. i am thankful for learning and understanding.  i am thankful for new knowledge.  i am thankful for a pensive nature and a calm spirit.

i am thankful for what my life contains: healthy family, good friends, a sweet and adorable puppy, a teaching job(doing something i love), opportunity, hope and a future, peace, faith, love, joy, creativity, inspiration, and determination.  i am not wavering on that line of hopelessness and hope anymore.  i live in hope, and hope produces so much in one's life.  for that i am truly thankful.

what i now know (at 28) i am sure is so small in comparison to what i will know at 29, then 30, to 50, to eternity.  i will know more than i now know.  that is inevitable.  and i am thankful for that opportunity: to grow in knowledge.

sometimes i feel so small, and even my gratitude feels so limited by my knowledge and the limitations of how much my brain can remember or think about at any given moment.  there is so much i am sure that i have not even considered that i owe God my gratitude for.  so my eyes and heart turn to what i do not know.  those who are hurting that i do not know, those that are hurting that i do know(but don't really know), those who are fighting, those who are mourning, those who are hopeless, those who are faithless, i can only ponder them and pray.  God knows.  on a day of gratitude, we all have something to truly be grateful for.  however, for some it is much harder to focus on those things when a huge loss can't be ignored, or a heavy fear weighs down so oppressively. i can still do something in my limited nature.  i can pray.  i can pray for eyes to see and hands and a heart to help when i can.  and for that desire, and that reminder, and that ability, i am thankful.

an attachment of sorts.

i've been away from this blog now for a couple of months...yet somehow i always find myself coming back.  in need of inspiration, or a form of expression, this blog and i have an attachment to one another.  i find other blogs through it that encourage my heart and inspire my soul and bring an understanding from and towards strangers i will most likely never meet. and yet, these random bloggers out there have impacted my life in unique ways.  maybe i've impacted someone else's life who has stumbled upon this blog and read some random words that maybe meant something to them.  i will never know, but whether it is that, or the form of the therapy this blog offers me, i still return.

and here i am at a new place in life.  i can finally call myself teacher, and it feels real.  i can call myself writer, and it too in some ways feels real. i'm still a barista, and while that holds its sorrow, i cannot truly express anything but gratitude for the roles i play in my life currently.  i'm learning and growing, which for me, is the best part of all of this life stuff.  if i didn't feel as though every day i were learning, and every week or month or so, i experienced some marked growth, i would wonder what i was really doing with my life.

i'm single and i'm loved.  there have been seasons of my life where i've questioned whether i was loved, by anyone, and that included myself.  but through my journey this year, my life through 2012, i have in fact learned what it is to be loved, more so now than i have in most of my life.  i think that this year i've really been able to see and gain a glimpse of understanding of motherly love.  i see this in how my mother loves and cares for me, and i've learned this through caring for an adorable monster of a puppy.  i too am learning that real authentic love, true love comes from God.  i am learning that who i am and what matters most about me is solely the fact that i am loved by a graceful God.  i am loved by Jesus who willingly gave Himself for me. and no other love will i ever experience that compares to that.

my attachment to words and all that they can convey draws me back to this place.  the allure of autumn stirs in me the desire to eat up words in all their forms, and as a result they pour out of me with a new fire.  a fire that only seems to burn through these latter months of the year.  the fall weather, the early nightfall, the holidays on the horizon, alight my soul, and inspire me in so many creative ways.  and i will let it.  my vow to myself this year, for this autumn season is to create the space for the fire to burn deep.  i want to allow it the room to touch all facets of my heart and spirit.  i want to see what it will birth in and around me.  this attachment will not waver, it will only grow.

heavenward.

there is something heavenly about days like these.  the air weighs heavy on our shoulders. the heat's oppression is broken by cool breeze.  after a morning enveloped in grey, small blue pieces of sky begin to break their way through thick clusters of clouds.  everything feels at peace.  there is a quiet calm that exists and it feels like heaven.  i look up at this masterpiece of sky and breathe in the faint smell of rain, and i just feel the closeness of the Creator.  He is here.  i see, hear, feel, taste, and smell his love and grace in these beautiful moments.

aspiring (to be nora).

the web has been inundated with beautiful tributes and eloquent eulogies to miss nora ephron over the past two days.  it seems every sort of writer girl feels the same special connection with miss ephron that i do.

but im still going to throw my two cents out to the world wide web, simply to put out there how wonderful, wise, and whimsical ms. ephron is, and why i want to be like her.

they say that imitation is the highest form of flattery.  i have met and watched many admirable men and women in my lifetime i found i wanted to be like. ms. ephron has affected me on a deeper level than many others.  i have admired her body of work that i have watched/read thus far.  i generally aspire to be like writers who creatively, confidently, and with grand uniqueness offer the world a gift in the form of words that conveys such beauty, wonder, and humor tied into real raw emotions.

i sort of loathe the way our society glorifies the mourning of celebrites, as if they are some kind of extraordinary human whose death deserves a grand amount of attention.  but on the other hand i do understand feeling some sort of connection to a person you might have never met.  when you do have that unique connection you do get that sinking sad feeling that the world has lost someone quite special.

nora ephron was unique among a profession mainly dominated by men. in all reality i think she made the stories and characters in her filmmaking relevant and relatable to both sexes.

it's hard to escape the chick flick/rom com genre when you name the movies she has created, but there's more heart and humor in her films and stories than many other titles who share that same genre.  in fact, i would say in her lifetime, she saw some of her own films become classics.

meg ryan is the face of most of these female protagonists that have been so influential on us females.  but it was ephron's words that made her so captivating to us.  and what is it that miss ephron taught us?  she didn't really teach us about falling in love.  if anything she taught us what it was to have good girlfriends. (how much do i adore the rosie o'donnell/meg ryan friendship in sleepless!)  she showed us that everything sloppy and terrible in life doesn't need to get fixed for things to be better.  in you've got mail, kathleen kelly doesn't get to keep her little bookshop, and her online love doesn't unfold into her romantic ideals, despite her somewhat cliche love for pride and prejudice and heroine elizabeth bennett.  sleepless and seattle reminds us too that sad things happen, and it takes time to heal.

nora ephron is definitely a main component in my writing influences, and just a role model in my navigating this life as a female.  she will be sorely missed.  she will not contribute any new stories for my thrity something self and beyond.  but i will treasure her influence and wisdom that she shed on my teenage years, and now has on my twenty something self.

miss ephron, thank you.  you will be missed.  prayers of comfort and grace for her family.

prayer.

i think most people pray.  at some time or another we all find ourselves whispering pleas, little thank you's, and big help me's to God whether we realize it or not.  i heard a lady say "God, help us" on a flight that got a little bumpy, i watched a homeless man weep on a street corner saying "Jesus" repeatedly under his breath, and i've seen many people approach the prayer room after a sunday church service.  we do it, we pray, whether we recognize it or not.

but sometimes i get stuck on and stumble over the point of such a thing as praying.  i wonder if God really listens to my prayers.  i question whether my prayers rank of any importance compared to the big heavy prayers of people dying, enduring war, terrible sicknesses, or great loss.  i look at my life and think my problems and longings don't really matter in comparison.  i get bogged down by the thought, why would God care about my stuff?  i look at how the past has unfolded and wonder if He is even capable of doing something miraculous or extraordinary with my life.

it is then that i realize that i've missed the point of this whole praying thing. i often pray and think about prayer with the intent of getting things. i think a lot of us do that. we look at God and the act of prayer and see it as a means to an end. God is a genie waiting to grant us our many wishes. what i've learned about prayer, and how i interact with God has been revolutionary. henri nouwen offers up incredible insight into what our prayer life with God can look like. no shoulds here. instead we are invited into this incredible intimacy with a big and capable God who looks at the things we call impossibilities and speaks possibility over them.
what i've learned about prayer from reading nouwen's book is so crucial, because everything he talks about takes me back to God's very own words.
i've learned that:

• prayer is about spending a few moments a day in the presence of God when we can listen to His voice precisely in the midst of our many concerns. it calls for a persistent endeavor on our end.
• prayer can be silence. that silence is filled with the caring presence of God.
• prayer involves reading the Bible. God's word speaks into our lives and allows us to look at the lives of others who encountered the same God we are.
• there is no need to force lengthy meaningless prayer time. God is not impressed by our words or time.
• true prayer: being all ear for God. (again is not so much about my words.)
• prayer is the essence of our spiritual life, without which all ministry (and life doings for that matter) lose their meaning.
• prayer involves putting our brokenness away from the shadow of the curse and under the light of the blessing.

sometimes i hold back from prayer because i feel like God is disappointed in me, or He is ashamed of me. maybe i am unwilling to repent because i feel like i have done the unforgivable. but these aren't feelings or truth from God. this is my own stuff, that i know i need to lay before Him. God does not require a pure heart before embracing us. even if we return only because following our desires has failed to bring happiness, God will take us back. God will receive us. God's love does not require any explanations about why we are returning. God is glad to see us.

becoming. part two.

i trust that there will come a day when i can look at my life and finally realize, and reflect upon, how things really began to come together.  it's hard to see right now.  it is a struggle of faith and trust.  i feel the despair swell inside of me, the worry can be all consuming at times.  but i know that happens when my eyes are fixed inwardly.  i feel as though i am starting from scratch again.  every "sure thing" has now been taken away, or i let slip away; all for a reason, i keep telling myself.  really, i don't know.  i don't know what will happen or the exacts of what i am looking for.  all i see right now is a general vague picture of what it all can be.  what i can be.

recently i was struck by a comment i heard on a new show i love, called "the conversation."  first of all, the show is amazing.  i love the style of two women, in a stripped down sort of setting, having a genuine dialogue on what its like to be a woman.  diane von furstenberg was interviewed for an episode and she said the most eloquent thing on the topic of becoming.  she talked about how she maintained the constant of being a friend to herself. i thought that was beautiful. in particular, to the question posed to her about anything she had to teach on business and finance, she basically admitted that she fell into the direction her life took, simply following the fact that she "did not know what i wanted to do, but i knew the woman i wanted to be."  that is such an encouraging thought to me.  especially when i find myself back wavering on the edge of the pit of despair.  i haven't any solid idea of where my future will take me, but i love that there is comfort and joy to take in the woman i am, the woman i am becoming, the woman God made me.

i know the woman i want to become.  today this is what guides me, and keeps me pressing on.

to whom it may concern,

in my undying love for great music, i finally discovered the civil wars and i think they are amazing. the combination of joy william's and john paul white's voices are just soothing to the soul, as smooth as silk. the soft melodies and the gentle heartfelt lyrics have made me a fan.

as i listened to this song today, i realized the lyrics so eloquently expressed every feeling and echoed every thought i have about my future someone. to the man who will one day only hold my hand, whose laugh and smile i will love, to the man who will someday walk through this beautiful life with me,
i am still waiting patiently.

becoming.

setbacks can disappoint and deter us. however, they can also reignite determination, if we let it. and that's what i have choose to do with the setbacks that have befallen me. i can feel the disappointment deep in my veins, resonating in my heart of hearts. the letdown, the being left alone, the not being chosen hurts and discourages me, but it does not destroy me. it does not determine what my future will look like, or how i must feel. my past mistakes and circumstances are no indicator for what will happen, though i have often let them be. today that changes. we must not only expect and settle for history to repeat itself. we can hope for more, strive for something greater, and have the courage to make new things happen. the gift of the present is always with us. each new moment offers the birth of something new. and i am determined to graciously accept the new moments as a gift of possibility offered to me with love. can i take a revolutionary stance on my life and say i what i want? i want to be a writer. i want to not just say that i write and barely do it. i really want to invest my heart and soul in it. i want a life partner. someone to love, and to be loved. i want to know what it is when everyone talks about their greatest accomplishments in life, and looks to the family that they've made. can i finally say that i want these things even though the fear that i may never have them pervades every part of myself? can i stop believing that these are things i don't deserve? i look at the lives of other people and get overwhelmed with what i may be lacking. but what if i looked at my purpose in life as one in which i bless others? what if my daily do's were about how i can serve and love on others instead of how can i find my own happiness apart from other people and really going after my greatest dream? something needs to change. i am not sure exactly what, or how, or when...but today i am beginning to see things differently. i begin today, to go about how i do life, my perspective on things, a little differently. my journey begins, again. i will become who i am meant to be. i may not know exactly what i want to do, but i know the kind of woman i want to be.

certainty.

this month i quietly turned a year older. that is one thing i am certain of. everything else feels quite uncertain. i tried to think of the things i felt sure about and begin to make a list. instead i sat and stared at a blank page for a seemingly endless amount of time. a lot of this month, coinciding with turning a year older, has been encased in sadness. there are so many unknowns that lie before me, and so much heavy weight that has been heaved upon me. sometimes i wish i could take a simple dream like talking a walk in paris, in the rain, under the night sky, with someone i love, a reality. but it only ever seems to remain a dream.

renaissance.

at first i found it hard to understand. what did renaissance have to do with me or my life? i used to think art was veiled. i felt that it required some superior intelligence to make sense of it. i saw art and i could formulate an objective opinion of what it looked like, but beyond that i was at a loss. i create art, or what i like to call art, but would anyone else call it that? i would hear what other people thought, their objective observations, and subjective insights, of art, and i would sink further down, keeping my lack of understanding all to myself. the one thing i always did know, and fully trust, is what art made me feel. i am always in close connection to my emotional response to things such as art, music, and other creatively inspired and nurtured things. But sometimes I don't always know what i think. and the most startling thing about thinking that is realizing that it is our thoughts that further us, that make us. how have i stunted myself? i keep looking at everyone else. i keep admiring these people who invent things, these people whose hands create beauty, these people who fall in love, and have careers, and make families. i watch people who sew, paint, garden, and do work beyond my understanding, and i am in awe. i feel alone, on the outside, as if there is nothing more i can contribute. there are already people out there who write the best words in the best ways. there is already someone who has thought up and painted beautifully, what i've yet to have the courage to put pencil to paper. there are people right now creatively imparting knowledge and cultivating the spiritual development of others in ways i could never even think of doing. there were days i aspired to be more than this. i had this fanciful idea that somehow these things would just come to me, in some sort of magical way. i've allowed hope and expectations to slip away from my grasp. the more i think about what i've let myself lose, the more sad i get. there were days, i thought i'd be an artist. there were days when i thought i was a writer. i call myself a teacher. but what am i really? that is such a paralyzing thought. what am i? i can make myself something. that is such an unbinding thought. i can make my own life. still, even now. there is a renaissance to happen here. this day. today is my renaissance. my renaissance is personal, internal, and deep. It is deliberate, beautiful, and worthy. my renaissance follows my desire to impact the world. this poem is my renaissance-

I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there — I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler — I turned my Being round and round And paused at every pound To ask the Owner's name — For doubt, that I should know the Sound — I judged my features — jarred my hair — I pushed my dimples by, and waited — If they — twinkled back — Conviction might, of me — I told myself, "Take Courage, Friend — That — was a former time — But we might learn to like the Heaven, As well as our Old Home!"

the burden of judgment.

"I have had a few moments in my life during which I felt free from all judgments about others. I felt as if a heavy burden had been taken away from me. At those moments I experienced immense love for everyone I met, heard about, or read about. A deep solidarity with all people and a deep desire to love them broke down my inner walls and made my heart as wide as the universe. Can we free ourselves from the need to judge others? Yes...by claiming for ourselves the truth that we are the beloved sons and daughters of God. (The danger lies in) thinking of ourselves as the sum total of our successes, popularity, and power we become dependent on the ways we judge and are being judged and end up as victims manipulated by the world." ~Henri Nouwen

All I know and fear is the end of relationships when someone truly messes up. We so quickly turn our backs on each other after one screw up. We make it hard to know each other. We create walls, we tell lies, we withhold truth, and we foster distance to avoid real intimacy. We don't want intimacy because we will get hurt. We are constantly looking, assessing, and judging. We change our minds and shift our opinions when actions are unpleasing. We deem others unworthy of grace, salvation, forgiveness, and love because they do not do what we think is right. We equate God to our humanness and we forget the truth of His character. Is it possible to let go of judgment? Is it really a burden God intended us to bear? We create standards that have no association with the creator of our hearts and world. It seems simplistic, but prayer is our answer. Freedom from judgment cannot coexist with fear. Becoming freed from the burden of judgment doesn't happen because of a logical connection. It is not the result of thinking through something. But rather, I believe, the freedom is a result of a connection the heart made in prayer. Change of heart and mind is the result of thoughtful fervent prayer. God, let us be freed from the burden of judgment and embrace your grace and love.

the hero of this tale...

"The hero of my tale, whom I love with all the power of my soul, whom I have tried to portray in all his beauty, who has been, is, and will be beautiful, is Truth." ~Leo Tolstoy

i don't like making decisions. my friends might refer to me as indecisive. however, i like to fancy myself a great decider when it comes right down to it. however, deciding where to eat, or which belt goes best with my navy blue dress, or the best movie time for a date with my nana is a heck of a lot different from decisions such as: should i take that job??? move across the country???? end this relationship????? pursue an unknown, unsure path??????? everyone from the outside looking in says, "yes". a whole hearted, "yes." no hesitations, no second guessing, just, "yes". it's funny how free wheeling we are with advice when it is not our problem. how often do we really consider what the other is going through? i know i fail frequently. but these are my decisions. i think about them, i make them, and more than anyone else they affect me. i know what i want, and then i don't. i change my mind. then i change it back. i make a decision, and then i wonder if i did the right thing. God knows what I want to do. i know i want to, at least a big part of me does...i think. and i do mean God knows in the most sincere sense, because He does. He knows me. He knows my future. one of the many mantras i hold dear and remind myself of from time to time is i don't know what the future holds but i know who holds my future. and i take great comfort in that. truly, i do. but sometimes the way i act, the way i think, doesn't reflect that that i am truly entrusting my unknown future, and my somewhat shaky present to an omniscient, always loving God. today, my heart is broken. i've walked through this past week breaking down at the slightest of things. a differing opinion, an encouraging word, a misunderstanding, a desperate plea, guilt, and fierce love. i am heartbroken over my relationships, over the state of my job situation, over dear friends lost, and dear friends close, over my always ever changing deep flowing desires, over my work defined past, upon my future unknown, and the indecision that plagues my soul. tears threaten to race down my cheeks as i type these words. however, as i finally put some sort of voice to all these hysterical thoughts, fears, feelings, and worries pent up so tightly inside of me it begins to feel as though i am stepping into some sort of freedom. and though i continue to sit in confusion and brokenness, i find hope in the longing to finally lay it all down, and let it go. i'm letting go. i'm letting go. these thoughts, fears, and worries are not mine to carry on my own. there is a hero to this tale. there is a patient and loving voice that informs my great distress. i contemplate him in his hours of great distress, sweating drops of blood, as he agonized before his Father over his fate. His fate that he accepted because of love. love for me. love for you. and suddenly, my decision doesn't seem to be the all encompassing, life or death, kind of thing i've made it out to be. my fears and worries don't seem suffocating anymore. they're still there, but they don't hold the same power. they are His too.

phenomenal woman.

from my own observations, good writers are the ones who write words that cause hearts to smile, and minds to ponder well beyond the stated truth of the words written. those writers are ones who scrutinize with great intimacy the process of life, the world, and the people who live in it. those writers not only produce words that have an enduring quality to them, they somehow too make sense of those words in way that can relate to everyone in some form or fashion. great writers are gifted to discover and communicate.

maya angelou's words do more than that. my explanation of what makes a great writer would never do her justice. her words are like milk and honey. they are rich, like chocolate cake, you can only handle so many bites in one sitting.

i ache to teach this book to young people.

so much beauty and sorrow held hand in hand in her story and her voice:

"the coat was a friend that I hugged to me in the strange and unfriendly place."

"i don't think she ever knew that a deep-brooding love hung over everything she touched. In later years I asked if she loved me and she rushed me off with: 'God is love. Just worry about whether you're being a good girl, then He will love you."

"she was one of the few gentlewomen I have ever known, and has remained throughout my life the measure of what a human being can be."

"i was liked, and what a difference it made. i was respected not as Mrs. Henderson's grandchild or Bailey's sister but for just being Marguerite Johnson."

"I had read A Tale of Two Cities and found it up to my standards as a romantic novel. She opened the first page and I heard poetry for the firs time in my life."

and her poems offer grace and depth of soul:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise...

i read her words, and i hear a story.
i listen to her words, and i feel the passion.
phenomenal.

the walrus.

i fell in love with this man when i was eight years old.  i still love him today.

the "in between".

i love how on days like this, where everything feels so hard, and i have no energy, and their is no passion fueling my veins, and all i feel is overwhelmed at the stack of papers beside me, and the impossibilities pushing at my brain, and the low number that perpetually defines my bank account, and wholly afraid to step outside and pursue anything that remotely reflects taking a chance...inspiration creeps its way in.

inspiration is so stealth. you just pick up that book you haven't looked at in months and find the bookmark on a page that explodes with extraordinary encouragement. you look at your cell phone and find that your dear friend has sent you the most ridiculously random and hilarious text, you walk out to the mailbox and find a card handmade just for you, you read a blog and find that stranger living three states away is going through the same things you are and it just gives you such comfort. you finally paint that blank canvas and out comes the most beautiful painting your fingers have ever birthed. and it's just like that...it all pours out in one fell swoop, and you just stand back for a second, savoring the present moment, and whisper thank you's to God for pulling you out when the waters got to deep. He brings you back to safety. He doesn't let you drift out to sea, or sink into the deep. He does not leave you nor forsake you.

He inspires you. He uses His dear children, and He brings you back..to life...to the present moment, and suddenly that triple digit number isn't so worrisome. suddenly that stack of papers doesn't seem so tiresome. suddenly, you feel unafraid to step out the front door, and filled with faith as you take that blind step. suddenly, in spite of every reason to feel bad, you just feel good, capable and strong.

this in between isn't so scary. it is a season of life, and it too shall pass.

hold on to what you believe...

little girl, sad and alone, lift up your eyes to the blue blue sky and count the clouds as they roll over your head. little girl, what do you see? a dragon and a dog, a friend and a foe, a heavenly hope? sweet young lady, why do you hide? ignore the words of ignorant critics. they want to hurt you to make themselves feel better. remember they feel worse than you do. pick yourself up and smile at the world around you, it's a gift, precious to your young eyes. don't feel as if there is something wrong with you because you are not ready. one day you will be, and it will be beyond what you could have imagined for yourself.

today you are still a young lady. today you still have the world in front of you. today you have the chance to change it all, to live it all, to enter into the romance of it all. spare me your insecurities. spare me the woe of being alone. spare me the doubt of your beauty and wonder. embrace what is amazing about you, everything He has made in you, and made you to be.

grasp tightly what you know, hold it up to the light. don't let the darkness take what you have in your sight. death whispers words of defeat in your ear, don't give into that fear, instead draw near to the one who holds your heart, your dreams, hopes, and disappointments, in His safe hands. our hearts will always stumble over doubts, and hurts, over the things we don't know, or we are unsure of. we have to be unafraid of showing our weakness. we all have them, no matter who you meet, we are all weak in some way, that is undeniable. don't ever tell another that you are a disappointment, let them decide for themselves what to make of you, but don't let their decision define who you are. it's hard to admit that no one, no matter who they are, really knows the truth of you or i. but one does. and we must trust Him.

we must continue to press forward in spite of the obstacles and hindrances that have greeted you before and will bombard your path again. remember what you said, what you wrote, what you shared with other dear hearts, what you want for life now and life to come. with all your heart. keep going in that way. don't care for the things that have no eternal matter. what you do in your day to day, what people say, when you feel mistreated...let it go...and love. let it go and love. you can, you have, and you will. keep going, take a chance, take a leap of faith, and believe that the outcome you will find, you will be carried through, and it will, it does make sense...you will see it, sometimes. hold someone's hand, and remember He is always holding yours.

i will hold on, i will hold on, i will hold on, i can move the mountains with you.

a discontented juror.

this week has gone quite unexpectedly. beginning monday morning i, with about 2,000 other people filed into the juror's room of the downtown courthouse and quietly awaited our fate. i came prepared for a day of sitting and waiting, well equipped with books, magazines, snacks, and a giant coffee. however, all of that proved to be unnecessary as i was called up in the first pool of jurors. we filed into one single line and followed one another up four flights of escalators, crossed a bridge to the main courthouse, and got called in one by one to a courtroom. as i entered and took my seat as juror #9, little did i know that would be my seat for the remainder of the week, and was greeted by the judge, who was warm and welcoming to us uncertain jurors.

after weening down a group of forty to a group of twelve, the trial began. a trial with one defendant versus the state of california. without getting into the details of the case, or the outcome, i must say i found myself wholly dismayed with the realities of this world and the people who reside in it. i always joke that i see the worst of the worst at my job, but the truth is, this sort of corruption is everywhere. it was such a strange thing, sitting in a room listening to all of these witnesses take the stand and solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and sit there and seemingly tell nothing but lies. it was even stranger listening to the appeals of attorneys who try to sway us by whatever means necessary to believe their side, and neither doing a very good or honest job.

to aid in my disillusionment i have been reading the winter of our discontent. steinbeck's last novel chronicling how money comes first and foremost for everyone over compassion and kindness. everyone is greedy and everyone is selfish. if it is financially beneficial for you, than you do it, no matter who it may hurt or alienate.

funny thing is...that's what everything in the courtroom boiled down to this week. money. who has it, who's losing it? even if you have a million dollars and you lost a thousand, you have to go after the person who cost you the thousand? it's heartbreaking to see. but in the same vein it inspired me. i don't ever want to be someone who lives for money. i never want to consider my money my own, that cannot be shared with others. i never want to raise my kids to think of money as a means of power or importance. i want to model for my students the good one can do with the money they are blessed with. kindness and compassion must come first. even for me, with the little money i have, i can still do something meaningful with it. if kindness and compassione wholly define my being and actions, my money would be put to good use i would imagine.

though its discouraging to see, i want to believe i can rise above this unkind, selfish, money focused society. i want to believe i can lead others toward a revolution of kindness, compassion, and helping one another...especially the younger generation that is being indoctrinated with this society of selfishness.

i have considered this passage of scripture to be my life verses for awhile now. i always find myself coming back to it, as such a solid reminder of how i want to live my life day in and day out. "Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." Colossians 3:12-17

this year,

This year, thus far...has been marked by sickness, my dad, then me...my aunt facing possibly her final weeks as she bravely continues her battle with cancer. this morning i read a story today about a precious young girl from southern California who lost her battle with brain tumors on Thursday. and then today my mother celebrates her 54th birthday. we are now seven days into a brand new year, and yet the celebration seems far behind us now. as I grow older and graciously gain small amounts of wisdom here and there, i learn that sickness and health, sadness and joy, sorrow and hope, can coexist.

our health is one of the scariest things to lose, for a day, for a week, or for the rest of our lives. yet ironically we celebrate every year, the day we turn older, as we are nearer to our dying day. life's funny that way. some things we do obliviously. others we carefully consider, calculate, plan, and reflect upon. why do we choose what we choose and when? i cannot explain it, not today. i cannot control it, not ever. but after this week colored with discouragement I look to the next fifty one weeks ahead, encouraged. i am reminded I can count on and control very little to nothing. perhaps the best I can do, is do whatever I do, live my life, in its entirety, with all my heart. with all my heart. that is my theme for 2012, my mantra of sorts, "with all my heart." though most everything remains outside my real control, I can control how I respond to my circumstances, how i awake each day, in what attitude, how i go about my chores, my dreams, my relationships, my job, my year. i commit this year, 2012, to living with all my heart, in all things. That being said, this year:

i will stop saying yes, when i really mean no, and i won't say no, when i am too afraid to say yes.
i will visit the beach at least once a week to feel the sand between my toes and hear the ocean roar.
i will eat naturally as i possibly can, trying to do most of my shopping locally purchasing things organic and fresh.
i will run a marathon.
i will take a lot of pictures.
i will watch the top 100 AFI films.
i will write (my always talked about, never setting my mind to sitting and finishing) collection of short stories.
i will teach in a classroom.
i will read the books that cause my book shelves to sag rather than buying more books to break them.
i will make a point to hang out with my girlfriends at least once a week.
i will conquer my fear of relationships.
i will create art and not be afraid or ashamed to share it with others.

that is twelve things for 2012 that i will do, with all of my heart.