20% left.

i feel myself sinking down...fading back. Everyday I can feel this force working against me and my family and friends. I can't put my finger on it, but depression is setting in.

The things of religion do not make sense to me. i know God has provided for me, and continues to, but must I beg for provision? is this the life He longed for His kingdom children to have? Where did i go wrong in this life of sacrifice? How did I back myself into this corner of starvation...my mind growing still with each day pressing in. I don't understand it. Why suffer through? Why drop thousands of tears? What are they for?

Life proves itself to me, mocking me, taunting me into believing these are the reasons I don't have a child. How could i handle it if I had a baby? My house is a wreck even with endless cleaning. My walls are full, and even with my vision of providing safe places for others to stay, nothing points towards goodness anymore.

i get lost.

Looking forward seems promising, but i just read last years Christmas letter telling me that 2005 was looking up! "We have a good feeling about this year..", I proclaimed. And then i realized...i say that every year. I did have a good feeling about 2006 until i read that letter. now....

what is there when certain things become uncertain? the promises we made mean nothing in the eyes of difficulty and they are easily brushed aside for OUR needs to be met. Yet, who wants to live a life of constant difficulty? Do we deserve more? Where is this freedom He promises?

unsure of my move, I look at the board. starring...wondering...how is this one going to work?

God does work. He knows His move before He looks and only moves it when the other is ready to crack. We think we know, but we don't. But why, why so many tears? What does that mean?

I would like to ease my mind of the complications of my heart. I try to make a list of needs in order for that to happen...it doesn't work like that. Seeing this list being fulfilled as i watch myself step away from His hand and into my own. I DO need Him. I don't know how to Need Him. I don't know what to need Him in.

My emotions are getting the best of me this week. So many memories, so many issues, pain, laughter, accusation, guilt, as a tear rolls down my grandmothers cheek showing her love for my mother...and for me. How do I take that??? where do i put it? please tell me how to compartmentalize these resurrected thoughts. seeing through the eyes once more of a 15 year old. Broken cars and nights with out a father. disrespect. tenderness looking deep. playing favorites and holding hands. I cant stand this past I live from. I can hardly even look into the future anymore. things i once saw seem to disappear, fizzling out slowly over time.

i don't want a normal job. i want to help people. i feel called to otb, but i don't feel called to this money struggle. My good friend just told me now that her husband is working, they are getting along great. is that what it takes??? money???? I am too stressed to give a loving glance. i get up every day starring at the time on my ceiling watching it pass, wondering if i have to get up again to face more disappointments. There are good things you know. smiles all around. eden. she is here, and her hugs are worth a thousand years in rent. food, given by family. hugs from a friend. laughter from the simpsons. my rice cooker. But as i was talking with a friend today...these things that fill my void, just seem so temporary. And the heaviness i feel is just waiting for me at the table. It is where i eat. hopelessness. I hate it.

Some one told me recently that hope lies in the redeeming love of Jesus. That he can take any situation and turn it around for the glory of God. I am still eating sand and waiting for my miracle, my turn around, my redemption.

Maybe i over estimated my strength the day the Lord asked me how far I would go for Him. Maybe i thought i was some sort of super hero ready to give up all for the sake of Christ. At times I feel i am...but how do i put that in my current situation. I am under slept, and over thought. Where and when would I get a second job? This 'happy holiday' season is impossible. Give up my life? sure. Give up Starbucks? do i have to?

I am spoiled in many ways. Living in this world that I have surrounded myself with where 50 percent of my friends own an ipod of some sort. Many have the newest technology in phones, computers, psp's, you name it. I am happy with the hand me downs. (seriously) and i enjoy my 4 dollar cup of coffee every once in awhile. But I am missing something. Something is not right. For some reason the gates are being held shut and I don't understand it.

i have to get out of here. this place is suffocating me. I can not think straight and my vision is blurred. I am shutting down.

it doesn't make any sense....it's too much for me...my heart is turning...yet somewhere in there is a spark of hope for tomorrow.

Princess

I sit here in the colored lit room staring at the Christmas tree while listening to the football game. But there is another noise begging for my attention. only two feet away from me is a gerbil named Princess. Princess is desperate to get out of her cage.

She lives in a glass fish tank and has only a wooden bridge like structure to climb on. But for the past few hours she has frantically been trying to get out of her cage. She hung from the top by her teeth, and even after receiving food and water she tries to climb her way out by using the glass. She gets nowhere and i wonder where her hope lies. Why does she continue? I wonder what makes her long for freedom so much that she will forever try to get out.

Personally, I am having a hard time not letting her out. Her hope should be fulfilled, and not disappointed. I just found out that all gerbils do this behavior. Which tells me two things, I will never have one, and they all should be free.

I watch Princess and feel her pain. Trying so hard to be free, longing to move on with your life and so badly wanting a family. She slows now...probably getting tired. And so am I.

we are many

Everyone has their own world they live in, it is just amazing to me at times how those worlds live so close to one another.

I was able to go out tonight with a good friend who talked to me about how she feels left out at times. That life sometimes gets her down because she doesn't feel included in things that someone should be included on. I even sat next to her as she listened to someone remind her that she and her family was, well, left out. I couldn't believe it, and I wanted to cry for her. That reminded me of the other girl I spent the evening with. She was telling me how she hated parties, and the reason was because she felt left out. My words, not hers, but she said she didn't really relate to people at parties. They were usually in a different place than she is.

We talked about how sometimes we just feel like not going out anywhere and staying at home, in hiding. Sometimes it is just easier than facing the things in our lives that we are constantly reminded of. Easier, but probably not better.

As i drove home I started thinking about this idea about the left outs, and how i was so preoccupied with listening to other people tell me they were having a hard time with those feelings, that I, for once, forgot that I too feel left out. There is a group I am not allowed into. And I thought how strange it is that we are really oblivious to those around us who are feeling like outcasts. Some one wrote me an email today and the last thing she told me was that most of the time she feels alone. That just made me wonder if we all sort of feel like that. We look at ourselves and feel like we don't belong into certain groups, whether it be family, or status, or stages of life. But really, we all belong to a group. The group of the unbelonged. We can never belong to everything, we will never be apart of every group. So maybe instead of always trying to get into the next group, we should instead try to push through our loneliness and love those we do have, remembering in a world full of loneliness, we are many.

closer

some things you hold so close to your heart that it is dangerous. I have conditioned myself to think of the things i hold dearest to my heart and hold them away at arms length. My mothers locket, given to me when I turned 16. My bible, falling apart, filled with years of struggle and triumph. My fathers leather jacket, never to be worn again because it isn't real leather and it has gotten hard, and torn. I used to have my fathers belt, but i was an idiot in college and lent it to someone who lost it. My diamond, given to me by my beloved, meant as a promise of faithfulness and love. The only card I have of my mothers, in her hand writing she tells me I am strong and she believes in me and is always with me. Post cards from around the world. These things, and many others I have seen go up in flames in a house fire. I have seen them get lost over the years, stolen by a burglar. Over and over I have thought about the fact that I might lose one of them sometime. It is a reality that could happen. But that doesn't stop me from reading them, from loving them. From wanting them to stay with me. They are so dear to me.

Then i thought about people. What happens when I let people get that close, or even closer to my heart than those items of the past? What if they are taken from me? It is strange that I feel I have had to endure time after time losing friendships, or family. I hate it. But there is something in my heart that longs for it even more. I can't stop loving. I can't stop wanting more. I love to give away my heart, even with the possibility of it getting a bit bruised. Because there is nothing worse than having a clean, spotless, un-tattered, protected heart. So even though it hurts, I give it out once more...

All things

As i sit here at the library and work on the new dvd book, while listening to the old gentleman across from me breath, I think, 'all things are coming to an end.'.

This was my thought earlier today as i looked back at the trees that once stood me in awe and now seem, sad. Death is coming. The leaves will fall and regenerate into the earth, while i sit and drink my newly attended decaf coffee. I know with life, all things change. there are seasons after seasons, but i have a feeling this one is different for me in some way. I feel more in touch with my emotions than a year ago when i wondered if God was still alive, and if He was, why was he punishing me. I am realizing I am a part of my surroundings, yes, but I am not the center. This sinful nature of mine that demands MY attention always clamoring for me to feed it, is hard to fight. But i get glimpses of hope. ugh, not that word that haunts my soul month after month, but it is true. Something is changing. Is it the world? this earth? the weather? my friends? or, could it just be me?

i don't mean for this to sound morbid really, although i am realizing it somewhat does. Things coming to an end, can sometimes be good. Turning that corner which we have been staring at for years can seem like a fresh breath of air. Finally on a different path, the same, yet different.

I have had a headache all day today. I think i am acquiring an allergy to red wine. i know, i know, i can't believe it either. But this is the third time i have tried it and have moments later gotten a migraine. The wine was good, but not worth it, i assure you. It has been pounding me all day. I have taken medication, drank O-J, took my vitamins. I even had drew use the massager on my back, but still I couldn't convince it to leave. But as I sit here at the library and work on the new dvd book, while listening to the old gentleman across from me breath, i think, 'all things are coming to an end.' and my head ache is almost gone.

the last hurrah

Fall Sight

I love the fall.

The trees have been at their prime color for over a week now. Which in a way makes me feel sad because i know their time is coming quickly and they will soon be bare; a harsh reminder that winter is at the door. Every time i get in the car to go anywhere, i see these bright colors on the trees and am just wowed by them. I tell anyone in the car, "do you see those colors? They are so beautiful!" But the response was always, "oh, yeah, they look nice". NICE? I understood they didn't see what I was seeing. What i saw was a burst of emotion, one last yearn for attention before sleep sets in. It reminds me of when Eden has to take a nap. She is put in her crib, and covered up. 'Night, night's' are said and we close the door. Ten seconds later we hear her jumping on her mattress. We start laughing, she is not sleeping, not even close. But after laura goes in to remind her this is nap time, and then a few more jumps for good measure, she lays down and sleeps. The last hurrah.

I was writing a friend the other day talking about the frustrations of being the only person who sees something. We can try to get others to see what we see, but our words always fall short of their ear, as their vision seems..covered. Then, when we least expect it, it happens.

"Wow! Look at the color of those trees!" was exclaimed by Drew as we drove past the most beautiful tree line covered with reds, yellows, greens, oranges, and browns. I thought, "yeah, it's been that way for a week. But I am glad you finally see it." There is something about that moment of ah hah! It feels so complete, so bright. And it makes me want to dance in a stream of "Yes!".

ew..ew..ew...AHHHHH!!!

it is official..i have found the thing that can destroy me. You know, Superman has the green kryptonite, the Samson had his hair, but mine...is the maggot. drew says it wasn't a maggot, but just a meal worm, one that is in corn or wheat. I still say it doesn't matter. both make me sick, like literally right now i have puke in my throat, and i feel worms on my head like they are falling on from the ceiling.

we found a million of them in our pantry tonight and i can't stand it. Drew is my hero. superhero even. except when he yelled out because he said while killing them they popped. I begged for no more info as i could hardly stand from discust. worms. in my kitchen. on my food. in the oatmeal. clinging to the lids of my plastic containers.

everything got thrown out. which sucks because we are entering the month of no money. I guess God really wanted to prove He is faithful. I just cant stop thinking about it... i can't imagine one little worm in my cereal, in my tortilla chips or crawling....ok thats all i can say for now. i am going to go puke.

lack of motivation

So i figured it out. It isn't that i don't have one moment, but it is that i don't have any motivation. I sit here looking at this blank page.....with not a word to speak, uh..write. but i can say that i have been playing the guitar these past few days. I was supposed to spend some time with my sister, whom i miss very much. but all of that fell through and i got depressed and cleaned my kitchen instead. Very exciting things happening in my life. But i am in Pheonix AZ and had to explain tonight why i don't have children when laura is on her second and everyone around me are either done, or working on number 3 or 4. Very frustrating trying to come up with an explaination when there is none. I mean seriously, how do you explain life? Explain why the hurricane hit. It is impossible, yet people spend hours and even years trying to make some sense of it. wasted time. There just isn't any reason. It is just life. and some times it just sucks.

and yes, i know it gets better. and worse. that is life.

one

just one minute to write.

one hour.

one day.

one to catch up.

one.

Peace Lake

Breathe in lungs--feel the air on that morning blood.

There is something magical about the morning. Really about any time before 8 am, however today it was 9. This lake is magical. 40 miles long, 1/2 mile down it lulls me to be mesmerized by it.

Peace. Deep morning breath bring me peace reminding me of when my mother would lay me in my tender bedside crib. Wrapped in a blanket made by hands, I closed my eyes in peace. Free to dream about Jesus or colors or my mothers milk. All things made me smile. There was someone else in control, taking care of me. And somehow out here on the lake found in the Empire State I sense the same Peace.

A Freedom to forgive. A freedom to be found, to love and be loved. Time to search, for lack of forgotten electronics. Praise God!

Time to Breathe.

I don't want to leave this Promise Land filled with perfect temperatures and smiling glances, but i know I must. My heart prays for a land much like this, one that leads to peace always.

questions

"Would God will me to be in a place where I don't believe in Him?" was the question posed to me by a friend of mine. This was one of many hard questions about God, life, death, purpose, creation, reality, religion and more, that he had for me.

Proof. How do I prove my faith to someone? And why do I believe what I believe?
The muslims believe something as strongly as I do, so what makes me right? i watched a program last night that was on a science channel and they were discussing the human mind. They discovered people can do unexplainable things because they believe they can. That is why some allow themselves to get bit by snakes, stick metal objects through their skin, knock people out with out touching them, and more. They said the mind is an amazing thing. So, am i just believing to make my life worth something?

What is the difference between my biblical stories, Noah- the earth filling up with water and only one family surviving and repopulating the entire human race, and someone like Tom Cruises stories of aliens? Is a burning bush or a staff turning into a snake a reasonable story? How do i convince someone that what I believe is the only way to God?
Where is my proof?

And when someone doesn't believe what i do, how do I remain close to them? What do i talk about? If there is no common ground, who is leading their decisions, and why should I take their advise? The Spirit isn't even guiding them, or at least they are not responding to Him. Frustration sets in. over and over. I can't stand to see friends change. Hearts that were once fertile, now dry, made hard by this answer-less thing called life.

God shouldn't be this hard. He tore the veil so that we could all be with Him. Just like Moses. Jesus healed and changed people's lives. So much we don't understand. So much we can't explain. I have been called nieve to believe in this unseen God. Yet, i still believe. I have no answers to the questions of life. But, then again, that is not my responsibility.

the mark of a sacred kiss

There He is. He has been spotted. Amazing how Christ shows up. He is in a lot of places, most places, if you wait long enough you might get a glimpse.

I was just coming in from packing . They had just given the invitation and brokenness was around the room. They had asked everyone to find their seats when through the crowd I noticed a hand stroking the hair of a young boy. One of the Core Officers had gone up to pray with a young boy who was in need of love. Stroke after stroke He said, "I love you. You are my boy. I love you." and the boys heart was being mended-becoming whole. It was tender. After getting up the boy hugged his friends and the same man with the hand of God kissed the boy on the head.

There is something sacred about a kiss, especially between two males. Intimacy was born there at one time only to be quickly perverted by Satan and sin. But the Lord, God, left His mark on His children. If you have ever been broken you know what I am talking about. The mark of a sacred kiss.

waiting in the baby room

I feel overwhelmed by the things in my life today. So much crap to think about and i have been sitting at home working all day. It is 7:38 pm and I got up around 10am. This is my first journal entry. Although I did read this morning and got into the scripture a bit. But even that all felt a bit empty. Some days, I am discovering, I just feel sad. Something sets me off, and for the next several days i feel overwhelmed, trying to stay above the muck.

This time it was my Aunt Nancy. I was at Ryan and Laura's new place helping them paint yesterday. As I was painting the tan walls of Eden's room , i thought about how another child will enter this household soon. I loved it. And wanted to cry. I couldn't imagine decorating a room...I had thoughts of this once, a long time ago.

My Aunt Nancy was down to help paint the apartment yesterday too, she had no idea I was praying in my heart for things of my future. And then she spoke. She asked me about a girl named Julie that I grew up with. She told me she was pregnant with her second and asked if I new that. I responded with no. But that wasn't the part that got to me. She proceeded to tell me that I then didn't know that she is due 2 days after Laura. I wanted to cry.

I guess as i sit and think about it, it isn't that Julie, or any other of my countless friends, get pregnant. It is hard to hear. Especially about the second..third..and even fourth kids being born. But the hard part is the lack of bond I feel with them. They are in another world from me. I know it isn't my aunts fault, I don't fault her for not understanding the pains of infertility. Most people don't understand. But for me, it is the constant reminder that most other couples live in this land filled with flowers and sunshine, happiness and love filled children, while we sit on the other side of the hill under the black cloud. I know these images are not true and just thoughts to separate us all. I am sure having children is trying and hard, and not what i always think it is going to be. I also know my time will come...or so they say.

I love my friend laura. There have been dreams about the two of us being pregnant at the same time etc. I sometimes wish i were never told these things I cling to. It almost feels like false hope as year after year passes. When I hear of family and friends all due around the same time, I want to rip out my heart in jealousy. It is hard to fight those feelings of left behind. I am confident the Lord has a plan though. Even through this desert i feel in my heart and soul. I am not just saying that because it is the 'right' things to say, i really believe it...I mean, somewhere deep inside this thought waits to be proven right. Until then, I love, and cry.

Dedication

I was just chatting as I always do. What i was talking about seems so insignificant now compared to what i have seen. I can't even remember the subject matter. Cars I think maybe. It seems to be the hot topic in our home lately. The death of them all. Oh, how i wish we could all live with public transportation. Doesn't it just seem better? cheaper?

So drive we were as the sun was setting. I hate putting up a tent in the dark. But packing up always goes slow and two hours late was better than previous camping trips, so driving down the road on the path that leads to campfires and smores was great.

I was in mid-sentence about the cars when we saw him. "Wow!", was the response of my friend the driver. The picture only lasted about 5 seconds as we passed.

A muslim truck driver was performing his prayers for the day. It was 6:00 pm.

I once was at the library looking for a christian book to read. it was the fiction section, and there on the floor next to the collection of Grace Livingston novels was a man, bowing north east, towards Mecca. Right there in the library! It was 6:00 pm.

My friend, the driver, had never seen anyone pray like that before. He was drawn in. Stunned. Silenced. Because on the side of the busy highway this older gentleman pulled his semi truck off the road and onto the shoulder, to pray. "He didn't even get off on an exit", my friend said before admitting he could never do that.

Everyday muslims around the world stop what they are doing to pray to Allah, their god. It doesn't matter where they are or what they are doing. Eating, walking, picking out a library book, going for a bike ride, working, etc. I felt faulty.

I know God doesn't require me to pray starting at 6:00am and take time out of my schedule for Him all day. I know I am free to talk, or not talk to Him all day long. But that freedom has led me to silence with Him. At least having a ritual gives you boundaries and opportunities to speak with God. That I like, that I need.

I need to have a schedule, someone telling me when to eat, where to go, how to speak, and giving me time to pray. I, like a child, need boundaries. I don't trust myself to meet with the Lord when He calls. Because He calls often, but I am busy, or tired, or ______. As a Christian, shouldn't I ALWAYS want to pray and be close to the master? I mean, I can talk to Him at any time.

I guess I was just thinking, i know I should, but does that mean I would?

hidden raspberries

I decided today that i feel far from the Lord and I am not sure what to do with it. I want to be closer to Him. I long to know His secrets. But i feel stale. So i wake up each day and thank Him for breath, and try to deal with what happens for that day.

Today I went to church. As i listened to the normal 'good news' I left wanting more. They were having a church picnic today and everything in me wanted to leave from that point on. I was afraid I might get invited to go, and then i would have to come up with some excuse for not wanting to go. I found myself spending most of the service thinking up what I would say if someone did invite me and how i would word "no" so it would not be a lie. I don't think this is how Christ wanted His time to be spent. So i went raspberry picking.

It was great to go, I've been wanting to go for some time now. I missed my opportunity to plant my garden this year and it is so upsetting me. I love to eat the fruits of my labor. So, raspberries I picked. It was great. The day was warm, but not too warm. I shared the field with about 100 bee's and dozens of spiders. I even saw a frog. He was so cute! Like a tree frog. He jumped on my leg. It startled me and he jumped off, but he was so cute. I always love to pick raspberries at this farm not to far from our house. Every time I have been there I see at least one country something. Snakes, frogs, spiders...it is always fun and i can breath there.

As i was picking there weren't very many raspberries. The woman told me there weren't very many raspberries left, but to my surprise I found plenty. I started picking but she was right, there weren't very many, until I sat down. As i sat down, I looked up and there...there were all the raspberries hiding underneath the leaves. They were just waiting to be picked. It was strange how taking a different perspective on things was so, fruitful. It was true the whole time I picked. If I crouched down, I found the fruit.

Sometimes I just have to look at things differently to get the fruit.

untitled

Untitled

that is what my page says every time i start to write. And that has never been more appropriate than today. Many times in my life i feel there are things that happen to me that i can't explain or can't set a word to, today it was the same. Now, you might read this and think i am crazy. Today alone could fill a notebook full of thoughts. But this was just one.

Ryan had taken Eden for a walk to the Ranger station to pay for another nights stay in this Georgia paradise. On the way there, they got caught in the rain. They made it to the station and got stranded for some time. The biggest thunderstorm i have ever heard rolled in. I have seen a lot of storms in my time, they seem to follow us on the road for some reason, but this one, was soul shaking. There was no missing the lightening, and one would stop talking when the thunder spoke. I was in awe. I remembered a previous blog I wrote about God giving things like this, and people not paying attention. I can't imagine not paying attention to this one, it was interruptive.

I decided to go for a walk and take an umbrella to Ryan so he could leave the Ranger station. So i headed out. I didn't get very far when i ran into Ryan and Eden. They had decided they had waited long enough and just walked back in the rain. They were soaked. But i gave them the extra umbrella and decided to keep walking. I made my way to the shelter because i must admit i was afraid of getting struck by lighting on my umbrella. (This really was stupid because it was plastic on top, but the thunder was LOUD and scary!) So as i was sitting in the little area outside the bathrooms, i noticed something. I looked closer and said out loud, "NO WAY!". It was struggling so hard to get out of the rain. A praying mantis. it was stuck up against the cement of the parking lot, and making its way towards a puddle. I kept thinking it was better off staying close to the cement, it was wet, but it wasn't a puddle. I watched it for awhile and then decided i needed to rescue it. So i walked out in the rain with my umbrella and gave it shelter..."no more rain today little guy". I offered him my shoe, hoping it was smart enough to climb aboard. By this time it had been trying to swim in the pool of water it put itself in. After 2 failed attempts, he was on my shoe. I walked back to the shelter and he climbed off my shoe. He sat there a minute making sure he wasn't in danger. I think he was stunned about being rescued. Finally he turned his head and looked at me.

I don't know if you have ever had a praying mantis look at you or not, but it was a surreal thing for me. He sat there awhile, just looking. I think he was smiling. I told him he was welcome and that he would live to see another day. I knew he was thinking this was it for him, drowning in a puddle of water. He sat there and dried himself off. His glances made me smile. His glances made me cry. There was something about him i loved. He was so unique, different than other insects. He was tall, and had big beautiful eyes. His arms were long and he used them to walk meticulously. He not only walked, but had long wings hidden on his back. He could at any moment of danger, fly. Yet he remained, looking at me, from time to time. He was delicate, gentle. I was in love.

He started walking towards the doorway and i thought, "No! Don't go out there! I just saved you from that." but i watched as he walked over to the door frame and then turned and started crawling up it. Awesome. He was moving to higher ground.

As he walked he would stop and then look at me. With every look, i wished he was closer to me. I liked seeing him inches from me. I could see clearly his eyes and little tiny hands. He was awesome. He didn't owe it to me though. I mean, i know I saved his life, but that doesn't mean I get to put him in a jar and keep him. I want him to live FREE in this lush forest. He didn't have to do anything, I just wanted to watch him. i was in awe of him, and longed for him to be closer to me. I wondered where he lived and what he ate when he got hungry. When does he sleep? Who does he hang out with? Does he have other praying mantis friends? As i pondered these questions, and watched him, he did something horrible. He left my sight.

He took one last look at me and turned to the outside of the wall. I wanted to cry. No longer could i see him from afar, now i couldn't see him at all. That is when it hit me. The creator sees me. All that love, and more. I am the praying mantis.

i love ajax

a dance with Grace

today.

waking up to early i made my way down to breakfast. I lingered in bed praying my head ache away, all the while thinking of the so called 'greatest cinnamon rolls in town' that were just steps from my door at the high class Holiday Inn Express. I decided i had to pee, and the thought of coffee going down my throat and waring against my headache pushed me towards the door until i was sitting in the little room with a few others eagerly waiting the start of the day.

It is strange these continental breakfasts. They are really not that good. I mean, if you love generic cereal, suffacated boiled eggs, english muffins, or stale coffee, then these meals are for you. But i think the people are hoping no one will notice how bare the taste is because it is so early. Either way, i am always there. Because it is, well, free.

I love to get free stuff. I have lingered in conference halls until no one is watching just to pick up a free pen. wow. there i said it. That makes me feel a bit embarrassed. I don't really need another pen advertising a college, or a t-shirt that doesn't fit me, but I am always trying to get them. There is some kind of satisfaction is receiving something that i didn't have to pay for. As far as i know, everyone likes to get something free. A free meal, a free car wash, a free t-shirt, a free pair of shoe laces that comes with your shoes. Just a little something that makes you feel like you did something good, deserving. Something that makes me say inside, "YES! I got this, it is MINE, and I didn't pay for it!". I think i saw this 'free passion' in the movie Lord of the Rings. Something about a precious ring that eventually makes people go crazed. Well, i don't usually go crazy over my free pen (unless it glows when you push a button, illuminating the name of Jesus), in fact, i usually lose them before i even get on the bus. But that is not the point.

I am reading a book tonight called "Blue Like Jazz". No, it is not about Jazz, or being blue. I am not sure when the title will come into play, but it is about the journey we all go on while we discover Christ. And i do mean DISCOVER. I think there is a danger in thinking i know Christ, even just a little. It is dangerous for me to believe that reading, fasting, praying all the time or any other spiritual discipline with bring me closer to him. I know that he did these things, and that they are important, but i feel by doing them 'religiously', i am setting myself up for some HUGE let down. He is perfect. I am not. The author writes about how we all have a sinful nature. and to try to get rid of this, outside of Christ, is impossible. That Christ himself must be the reason that we CAN overcome our shortcomings. That we must realize we are fallen and we need a saviour. We just can't do it ourselves. That sucks, but it is so true. I left off when he was talking about grace. The item that most don't understand and few take part of.

I remember the first time i had sex. i wish i could say it was with my husband, but it wasn't. it was with a guy that was almost a stranger. i tried to talk myself into believing it was ok because my sister dated his brother once. and they went to church too, so this guy was ok, and the fact that he was always high really didn't matter. it was a time in my life when i was angry at God. life got me. it put a gun to my head and someone pulled the trigger. there were times i wish that image were real, but God had a different punishment for me. Grace. I learned about this thing called grace and i wondered how someone could just look at me while i am covered and layered with sin and see me as pure again. my name, kathlene, means 'pure one'. i felt guilty. i couldn't accept his grace. it didn't make sense.

I've always liked free stuff. But it seemed strange to me that the one big free thing i was given, i didn't want and couldn't accept. It hasn't been easy accepting this grace. not just for my sex sin, but for every single one of my sins. i know i am saved. i know i am washed clean. and honestly i don't walk around filled with this rock in my soul called guilt. i love living a free life. and i throw my rock of guilt in the river as often as i can. I just find it interesting that tons of people struggle with guilt and shame and are unwilling to marry them with grace and mercy. And isn't that what it is, a perfect marriage, one reminding me of Christ and myself? This marriage is the only place that is right for guilt. But it is a marriage he resists. He does a perfect ballroom dance with grace, impressing her with turns and dips, all the while trying not to get to close. Guilt seems so acceptable, so sophisticated, so cunning, hidden. But much to his surprise, at the end of the dance Grace leans in and gives Guilt a kiss. Not just any kiss, but the kiss of death, shattering light into it's inner core.

then...peace.

time

Time has a way of robbing our experiences with God.

And i wonder if that is why we never hear of God doing things today. Jesus healed so many people, changing their lives forever. But as they walked away (some for the first time in their life), they left the wonderland of fulfillment and miracles to join the tangible world where the enemy waits. The same is true for the miracles of today. Is Jesus forgotten? I don't think that is possible, the healed legs, eyes, lives are proof that he was here. But as a moment turns to minutes turn to hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to years, the stories, they get confused, skewed, changed, and suddenly people are not even sure of what they experienced. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was a fairy tale. Our memory forgets him, and his miracles are squashed by the realities of life that set in. we need to pay rent. we need gas for our car, food for our table, clothes for our nakedness, books for school, litter for our bunny, someone needs to mow the grass........Time is the enemy of remembrance.

27

I was sitting here checking my email when i noticed one from a faithful friend of years ago. He always sends me a letter or note on the day my parents died, July 27th. I saw that he wrote me and actually wondered what he was writing about, and that is when the date hit me. You see, today is the 29th, and i forgot.

I feel a bit sick to my stomach right now remembering that I forgot about the day that changed my life. As i cry, it isn't because I am sad about the accident, or being left alone, but because I can't believe i really forgot. Most people when faced with crisis have this number of the day burned into thier minds. mine is 27. so whenever that number comes up anywhere, at any time i remember. i know my sister does, and probably my brothers and a lot of other family members. And me...for the most part.

As i look back on the 27th of this week, i was standing in my kitchen and cooking most of the day. I made quiche, wheat free cookies and carrot bread. I made two kinds of hummus, eggplant dip, and grape juice, not to mention coffee which was a given. I was listening to music and remembering how mom used to cook for us, making us goodies all day. I smiled, not realizing 14 years ago she took her last breath. She used to sing in the kitchen, and many of our talks took place there. i would sit on the counter and put my feet on the cupboard door beneath me until my dad would tell me to move my feet. He knew i would one day break it. A day spent in memories as i mixed the sugar with the eggs. I just remember feeling peace two days ago, and smiling a lot.

Ironically, i had dinner with my Uncle and Aunt the day before this. They were passing through and talked me into going to dinner with them. It was great BBQ, but the stories couldn't compare. I asked my uncle if he had ever punched anyone. He thought and then started laughing. He wasn't going to share, but Laura told him i would laugh and love the story. So he shared the story of a wedding night reception a long time ago. My parents were split up at the time, i might not have even been born. My mother was at a wedding reception with the rest of her family (brothers and sisters) and my dad came around drunk. He was making lude comments and so much so that my uncle punched him right in the face. My dad fell on the ground and one of my other uncles started beating him. This might not sound funny to you, but if you knew my uncle Gordon, or my uncle Stan, you would think this was hillarious. I did, and i still laugh thinking about it. My dad loved my mom, but he probably deserved that beating.

It is strange how so many memories pass on these days without even knowing the date. I was so concerned about missing my brothers 40th birthday, that i ...well....i guess i forgot. Is that ok? does that mean something? does that mean my love for my parents is fading or lost? I feel as though in some small way i have disrespected them, or the day of thier birth into the afterlife. I know i havent done any of that. I have not done anything wrong. But in one moment, my heart beats faster, my eyes swell up...is it hard to breath in here?

I do miss my parents. I was thinking the other day about how strange it would be to go to thier house and visit or have dinner. Or to take my friends or husband to meet them. To sit in my old room and crawl out onto the roof. watch the stars--wait for the falling ones. My mom was a bad cook and i never noticed. my dad smoked behind the barn and everyone pretended like we didn't know. my dad called my mom "legs" and kissed her while she pretended not to like it. She always had certs in her purse and lipstick on her coffee cups. ah yes...the faint smell of cheap avon perfume. dad drank iced tea and had potoes with every meal...everyday. Mom loved God way to much, and dad just wanted to be loved. Misdirected money, mowed yard, homemade clothes and comb over hair. My parents were the most interesting people i now know. None of this was known while they were alive.

It really isn't until something is gone that you notice the life that was in it. Until something is forgotten...and then remembered.

lost in chaos

i love the chaos, and hate the change. even when i know that things will get better, more peaceful possibly, it doesn't matter to me. At times i would rather sit in the middle of the chaotic road, with people passing by, and cars rushing at me, then go to a place of rest and watch others in the chaos.

What is it about me that doesn't like the change?

I feel like i have been in a dream these last few days. my mind is a cloud and i can't figure out what to do. I sit and watch people pass by me in the kitchen, in the living room, in the den, yet i just sit and watch. i don't feel like getting up. this dream state is my residence and i just don't feel like moving. i am stuck. at least for a few days.

My hands are tied, and i look down to see nothing holding them. huh, frustrating. that must mean it is about me. This is never good. My will is stronger than my desire to make the right decisions. I sit in a meeting and allow my words to cut like daggers for some reason. i don't feel like i am being rude, but my roommates, my colleagues tell me otherwise with their eyes. and words. But frozen i am. waiting for another moment to screw up with my silence, or not silence. Maybe he was right, maybe we are changing in ways i don't like. Values, things we never thought we would do...we walk into. But i trust them.

I don't like talking about a future i am uncertain of. or one that i don't feel like i have a say in. again i am lost in what God has for us, vs. what i would like to see.

i can not get out of the chaos. nor can i control it. i just pray that in the midst of it i don't get hit by the oncoming traffic.

one more for the road

The song that was sang to Johnny Carson on his last episode. It always reminds me of sadness, things ending. it is the song that comes for those who are closing a chapter in their book of life, to move onto the next chapter. I don't like ending these chapters, as they seem to be closing faster than i can keep up with. Yet, I know God has a great ending to this story if only i can hold on. Tony and Court, without even knowing it, you are one page away from ending this chapter. It has been a good chapter, not a perfect one, but one spent with goodness, with fondness. As i long for those days of closeness, i move on in my reality that people change, and i can't control life that goes on around me.

When i was younger, one of my favorite things to play was people. You know, the play school wooden (now they are plastic and bigger) little people that came with a castle or a boat or a barn or a house. (all of which i had thanks to my mom's garage sale expertise.) Despite having all of these buildings, i usually would set up camp on this bookshelf we had. It wasn't a bookshelf to me, it was an apartment building. Where 6 families could live. Some slept, some ate food, worked, and some fell in love. It was a beautiful world created by me. As i remember, no one ever died. No one ever left. There was a fight every now and then (everyone needs drama) but it was usually a jealousy thing that ended with hugs and new shoes. The world was perfect.

I guess there wasn't a forbidden tree in my land of little people. No freedom of choice. No real love or passion, just wooden people waiting for my every move.

It is hard to push through these deep feelings of abandonment and loss. Especially when it is chosen by others. Yet, a small, very small flicker is lighting something in me.

I think of my past and long for it. the good old days, but i think that is not where i need to be. my past is only created by the memories in my mind, not interpreted as truth to my heart. I only remember the happy, good things, which i think is a gift at times, but at other times, it makes it hard to enjoy the present and look forward to the future.

As my heart aches for those who have left, i cling to Christ's promises of the future. Where all things will be made new, and put together in perfection. I think the bible says, "made complete" which reminds me of restoration. All things restored. Things i long for.

Someone once said, "it is better to love and lost than to never love at all". I don't know who that was, but i think it is true. I would never want to change any of the time i have spent with tony, or any of those who have moved on, but the loss...it feels like freezing rain on my skin.

Jesus hates me.

ok, so i know he doesn't really hate me. but i wonder why he is always wanting me to do difficult things. I love him, but i think he keeps asking me to do things..like live, and forgive, and love. those things were a great idea a few years back when all i had to do was preach them. I wish i was one of those people that forgave asap, but lately, it is getting harder. we are of the same tree, yet...ugh. keep breathing i must. my confusing blog.

oh, and tonight i choked on my snot during our final song....twice.


the joys of working through forgiveness and loss.

birthday wishes..

I was greeted last night at 12:01 with a misunderstanding between myself and another friend and I thought, is this what my birthday holds for me? So I fall to sleep hoping it would get better. I had already known that Laura, Eden and Matt would not be traveling with us, and that my whole birthday would be spent traveling the 12 hours home in the bus. So, i wasn't really expecting much to be honest. It is no ones fault, there is just only so much people can do on the bus for that long.

I woke up at 7am as Laura gave me a kiss goodbye and wished me a happy day. Matt was also happy to be getting off the bus, and wished me happiness as he left. It made me smile back into dreaming. I woke up when the bus started moving again and went to the front of the bus to see Ryan driving. He was tired, and i thought it was Tony's turn, but he said no one was awake and so he just started driving. ugh. I tried to keep him awake, ha ha, and finally convinced him to pull over and wake up Tony. Back to sleep for me. Then i awoke from a disturbing dream. As i tried to shake it off I fell asleep again. Once more I woke with a not happy dream. And then a third time. By the time that one came, i decided I had better just stay awake. I walked out and Drew was awake smiling at me. the best present i could ask for.

Drew and I watched about 4 episodes of America's Top Model on VH1 and then it was his turn to drive. But as we were sitting there, I kept missing call after call from people wishing me Happy Birthday. I think i got at least 6 or 7 songs, and 10-15 messages, and I began to be amazed. Who in the world takes the time to call ME on my birthday?? I am loved.

It is amazing to me how I could feel like this birth-day wont be that fun, or mean that much because we are on the road, and then be proved wrong by all the people that love me. I also know that I started getting birthday blessings last week and they will continue throughout next week. As for today I was blessed by the songs, even just the thoughts of me. I joke around about my birthday letting everyone know it is coming, and telling them what i want etc. but truthfully, i am just happy to be alive. And the REAL truth is that i get spoiled all the time by my friends, my family, and especially drew and this makes my birthday not seem so special. I mean, it is, but I am constantly blessed. I minister to people for a living, I get to go to Colorado this month-and every year, I was on the east coast Atlantic for 2 weeks! I caught fire flies with drew the night before we left for this trip, which was SO much fun and something I will never forget, and the list goes on and on. I AM BLESSED.

So thank you for going through the pain mom. I am glad I am here, and I am glad that God has put so many people in my life who love me everyday. I have heard it said that Mary the mother of Christ was the most blessed among women, but I am not so sure...cuz I sure feel like it is me.

The Blank Page

There comes a time in ones life, where there is nothing to say.

Yesterday I decided to write a book on what NOT to say in times of crisis. But I also realize humans feel the need to fix things, and when we can not fix it, we MUST at the very least, say something, anything, just to feel like we are doing. But what we should do, or say is nothing.

I have met a woman whose outlook is always about God. His plan. His way. His peace. His, His, His. His name was on her lips, in her tone, felt on her breath. I sat in the room hearing the news no new mom wants to hear, and cried. Weeped is more like it. I think I was crying more than she, but I know that isn't true. There is no comparisons in sorrow. There is no time. There is nothing, but weeping, sorrow. And she says, "I know God is going to use this to help the church". His people. I wondered where that kind of strength comes from? I sat in awe.

I must admit I come around to those conclusions eventually. The key word there is EVENTUALLY. I first cry and wonder why God hates me. Then I just get sad and don't want to even think of God while hiding in my room for a day. (I always give myself a day of mourning, or selfishness. Not sure why just one day, but I guess I just decided that was the day I would be selfish. I deserved that, right?) After the hiding is over, I read, pray, cry more, and decide that God is still God and He is still in control (as if He ever wasn't).

I know everyone deals with things differently. I figured the morning after, that is when it will be bad for her. I will walk into her house and it will be horrible. But I was wrong. Yes, she looked tired, she should be, but she looked great too. She was out of bed, showered, make up on, hair done...she was living. Amazed I sat down and we decided to go see a movie, just to laugh a little.

Life just isn't fair. I have thought this so often in my life. I still think it is true, it isn't fair, and it never will be. It is a fallen world, Lord come quickly. And then He does, as a little bundle of joy comes in and says, "Mama!" and gives her a hug. And then says, "caca" which actually means cracker. Smiles. He sends his perfect timing into play, making all things come together for His glory...and for hers.

She had her first therapy session today. (We all have shrinks now, don't we? Lord knows we all need them) Not sure she wants the world to know that, but I was amazed she went. As she described it to me, I was speechless. It was one big bible encouragement session. She was blessed, and encouraged. Her therapist prayed for her that morning before she even met her. God. He is here. One thing she was told was that at conception a soul lives within her. And God doesn't see time, He doesn't live by that, so when we feel like we have a life time to live, that is true, but that is not equal to others. Lifetime could mean 5 weeks and 2 days. And that all things are created for purpose, and so the baby was created for PURPOSE. And if we didn't know what that was yet, God would surely reveal it in time. That all that was happening wasn't for waste. I wondered, was it an angel she was listening to? The words seemed so full of wisdom. she was blessed.

The worst part to me is thinking about the body rejecting (and I HATE that word) what is in her now. The pain, the evidence, the dreams. I have struggled for years with watching what could have been being flushed, but to know it was...it is too much. I hurt for her to go through it. I feel apart of her in some way. I keep picturing her having to go through the procedure tomorrow, and I want to run to her and steal her away. I know it has to be done, but it seems surreal. And I know it has happened to most mom's that I know. Some even several times. It is something I fear. Yet, I look at this woman filled with recent pain, and watch her strength..HIS strength, and I pray for that. To realize what is His, is His.

So I am thinking about how she will feel once she wakes up tomorrow after the anistesia wears off, and I pray God will fill that empty place in her womb with Himself. And it will be called Peace.

random thoughts, written on a blank page.

Debbie's Kids

As I read through my last blog on the sound of music kids, it reminded me of my friend Debbie Lukasiewicz and her 8 children. Danika, Tim, Taylor, Ty, Ronise, Chase, Travis, and Tori (I have always wanted 8, but that is a lot of names!) I remembered a time last summer when we visited with them in Denver. We all went to eat at this cool restaurant with cliff divers, mexican hat dances and much, much more! We had time to play in the game rooms, where Sators and I conquered the skee ball. And I wondered how Debbie could keep her eye on 8 kids! The older kids do help a lot, but sometimes, I think it would just be hard. And this day, it was. Debbie was playing Ms. Pac-man, when all of a sudden she realized Chase, one of her 4 year olds, was not around. She frantically looked for him, sending out several search parties of children. We couldn't find him anywhere. I could see in Debbie's eyes that she was worried and didn't know what to do next. We searched every place again, and then we saw him coming up the stairs with Tony. There was another game room in the lower part of the restaurant that we didn't know about. And the Earth breathed.

Debbie handled it wonderfully, and she still is super mom, letting her 16 year old son live for 3 months in Africa while going to a missions school. Who does this? But I am learning that those who have these large amounts of kids HAVE to trust God. And therefore they learn to trust Him more and it seems like they walk more peacefully. I wondered last summer as I watched Roni play with worms while the boys were running around their Colorado home, how does she do it? Isn't she concerned that the floor might get dirty? But as I heard story after story of how their kids help others and give up toys, and even bedrooms to kids who don't have them, I discovered, God is there. And it really doesn't matter if they eat with dirty hands when they know Jesus Christ. I think God will take care of the rest.



So I raise my glass to those families of 2 kids and up. As your family grows, so does God grow closer to you.

The Sound of Music...or is that Neo Pets?

I thought a lot today about that classic movie "Sound of Music". I wondered if that fairy tale could possibly have a shred of truth to it. A strange woman comes in and takes the beating of 6 children (or was it 9?) and eventually wins over their love and affection. Once straight suited, none playing children were turned into curtain wearing, free loving souls. So my day goes.

I had the honor of semi-watching the Funk kids today. Gracie-9, Gabby-7, Will-4, and Claire-3. And i can't forget little Eden, who is 18 months old, and belongs to Laura, but today, she too was a Funk kid. It wasn't the crazy moments that i remember, but those moments where my eyes met theirs and they, well, loved. We ventured out to the movie theatre today, all the kids and Tony, Laura and I. Before we got there we went over strict rules of not running away, staying with us, Tony would drop us off and then park, Laura would buy tickets, while I corralled all the kids from the drop off point to the movie theatre. All things were going as planned until Will saw the motorcycle ride inside the theatre and he was off. And Claire was close behind. Meanwhile, Laura catches up and I ask her to buy the popcorn while I go into the theatre with the kids.

The Theatre

As we enter I pray that we will be the only ones there, but God has a way of not listening to me. I turned the corner to see 40 or so people already seated. Gabby says, "Lets go to the top" and i agreed that we didn't want to watch the movie from the front, and that was a mistake. So we all tried to get settled in, Gabby loves to take care of Eden so she wanted to sit with her. Claire sat on my right, while Gracie sat to my left. Tony showed up and sat on the end next to Gabby and Eden and Laura took the other end next to Will. All was settled, the movie was about to start, and then it happened. "Can I have some popcorn? Where is my pop? I wanted sprite, I don't want water! Where is my popcorn? Can I have some candy? I don't want to drink water. Where are the gummy worms? Will, we are not supposed to say shut up. (laughter in the theatre. they wont be laughing soon) I have to go potty. I have to go poopy" and on and on it went. "whisper girls...watch your feet on the chairs...Will, you can't just come over here (he hits the persons head in front of us) go back to your seat...When can we go back to grandma's house?... Whisper Gracie!...is this movie over yet?" And then it finally was. Honestly I wondered if we would get kicked out, or at least yelled at, but i guess the people who work there are used to that sort of thing. So we wait until the theatre is about empty and slip out, leaving the mounds of refilled popcorn on the floor. Evidence that we are bad 'parents'. Breathe, we are out of the theatre...or are we?

The Lobby

We move out towards the lobby as Claire and Will run ahead and dash out to the video games (all too old for them to play or understand) and I pray no one runs by and snatches the babies. But as I followed Claire into the men's room so she could go poop, I decided, she has to live with some kind of consequences, right? Ok, I came to my senses and made her pee in the woman's, but not before I saw a man peeing at the yernal. I had to look 3 times because she wouldn't come right away like I asked. ugh. But none the less, he didn't seemed phased, which is kinda strange if you ask me. Gracie was begging us to go shopping, "I just want to buy a neo pet and it will only take me a min...PLEASE!". So Laura and I decided to let her go. We arranged for Laura to take the 2 older girls as Tony and I handled the young-ins. Oh wait, where is Will and Claire and Eden. Oh, that strange woman is talking to them. sigh. At least she thinks they are cute.

Is it me, or does Gracie kinda look like a neo pet?


The Mall

The mall had a carousel and a play area and we told Will and Claire they had to stay with us, or they would immediately have to go to the car. They agreed and even looked into my eyes, which the Nanny says means something. Believe it or not, they obeyed. It was great. Tony took Will and Eden to the play area and I took Claire on the carousel. All seemed well in the world. For a moment. Claire and I headed off the carousel to join the others in the play area. I successfully got her shoes off and Gabby and Gracie were back to join them. A moment to sit. So I took a few pics and watched as they released all the energy I was hoping wouldn't end up in the house later that night. And then Tony thought Claire and Will were fighting.
They were wrestling, I will say that, but when I was growing up (oh, I can't believe I just said that) Kelly and I would wrestle all the time. We loved it for some reason. He would jump on my head and I would pull his hair, and then we would laugh. I think Claire and Will are sort of like that. The smiles on their faces said so. I will admit that even with Kelly, play fight would sometimes lead to real fight. But not was the case in this event with Claire and Will. But Tony sent Gracie over to break them up. Not sure why he sent Gracie, she is the least likely one to handle this situation, but he thought she could handle it. So she tried. And they laughed. And she kept trying, until they started crying. It was time to leave.


The Shoes

Will has these moments where he decides something and then that is it. He has it set in his mind and will not sway from anything but what he has already decided. Tony told him to put his shoes on, but he didn't want to leave. So I took Will over to a table and told him to settle down and we talked about putting on his shoes. I told him he had to put his shoes on, and in tears he screamed, "NO!". I don't mind the scream, but I think others do. Tony walked over to him and said, "Let's compromise, I will carry you to the car and you can put your shoes on in there, ok?" Well, under normal circumstances, that would have been ok, but i had just told him he had to put his shoes on right there, so i really wanted to stick to what I said. I think it is important to stick to my word with kids, so they know what they can trust. (that is for another day) So we put the shoes on and then he was fine. sigh. All that work, just for him to smile at me and start walking, holding my hand. Why must it be so much work?

The Ride

We waited outside for Tony to pull up the van and all the kids sat patiently and waited. Once here, Claire ran in first going to the back seat. She sits in the middle seats. So then Gracie couldn't get in, and Will was blocking Gabby... we drove down the road and I was joking with them asking Claire if I could have one of her binky's (she has like 10 of them). She of course said no over and over. I decided to have them sing, well, I was joking and never expected them to started singing. I started the classic Kumbayah and started laughing because I find that song old, and funny. But to my surprise, all of the Funk children and Eden started singing. And they were all serious! Laura and Tony started laughing in the front seats, not too much to be heard by the kids because they didn't want them to stop. Then, we were home.

There were many more events that took place while we were at the grandparents house for 3 days. From 10 minute bike rides, meeting the deaf neighbors, watching Will eat 20 pieces of candy and drinking pop before bedtime, to bath times and bedtime prayers. I loved it. And I would do it again if I could...and I might even make them some play clothes out of curtains, just for fun.

The dove's twig

Have you ever had those moments when something happens, but it is so cool, it almost seems like a dream? I experienced that very thing this morning. Drew and i were on our way to the office to load up and leave for MO for the week. We were discussing things that are happening in our lives that are hard to deal with, and frustrating. It seems we have these on going conversations about life and we give them all to Jesus and then wait for him to fix them, but for some reason he doesn't . We were talking over why he doesn't fix things for us, in our time, and then i noticed something. It came and went so quickly i wasn't sure it had even happened. I looked up as we were passing a traffic light, and i saw a dove. Not just a regular bird, but a huge, white, dove flying over us. He had something in it's mouth as if he was taking it to his nest somewhere close by. He was carrying a branch with small blue berries on them. And then he was gone. I almost dismissed it like I do any other bird i see because it really isn't that unusual to see a bird fly over you. But there was something different about this one. It seemed to carry something other than just a branch, it seemed to carry purpose.

I was taken back to Noah and the ark and the people on the ark. I was thinking how frustrating it must have been to be on the ark for months at a time. The bible tells us it was at least 40 days without even seeing the sunlight. All stuck in a boat swaying back and forth on waves, filled with the smell of animals, and each other. I bet they were a bit frustrated by the end of it, or maybe even the middle. I am guessing they just wanted off that prison so they could run! But they were stuck. Being stuck, well, sucks. But we have all been there, in that waiting place. We have all been at a place in our lives where we are waiting and waiting, and waiting for God to do something. We pray daily for Him to make the floods go away, and raise up fresh land for us. I can't imagine stepping off the ark into a new world filled with lush grounds and adventure.

Yet, here I am waiting. "Give us a sign Lord!" I exclaim. And then, He did. "Hold on child, the flood is almost over".

wedding scramble

It was a busy morning as everyone hustled around getting ready for the wedding. BJ seemed untouched by the nerves that were in the house. He had dated Allison for years, been engaged for 23 months, and finally the day was here. His mother hurried about the house gathering her makeup to put on the faces of the bridesmaids once we got to the church. Her daughter Shannon could be heard trying to coral her 2 daughters, Grace 5 and Faith 2. Her husband Steve was trying to calm the crying baby, Noah, who desperately just wanted to be fed by his mother. Ah yes, the sounds of a wedding morning.

I could be found in the borrowed bedroom trying to catch a moment of silence. Everything seemed hurried, but then i heard little Faith in the hallway trying to ask her father something. "Daddy! Daddy!" Faith said. "Yes Faith?" Steve replied still thinking about Noah. "Why do you love me?". Faith had no idea what a profound question that was, nor was Steve ready for it. He replied staling, "Why do i love you?" "yeah" "well...because." Steve thought that answer would be good enough, but he was wrong, the silence stated so. So he continued to tell her, "Because, you are beautiful." Again, I was stealing a moment that was not meant for me. God allows me for some reason to do this at times. I was there, in the midst of them hearing intimate things. After that answer, everything started up again, the crying, hustling, the confusion. But for one moment, Faith was heard, Faith was restored.

"Because you are beautiful" wasn't really the answer I was looking for. At first I wasn't sure I liked it, I thought, couldn't he have said, "Because you are God's child, or because you are my daughter" I thought, what happens when her beauty fades? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that is the perfect answer. What other words could he have possibly used to answer the perfect creation of Faith?
Beauty is more than outside adornment. It runs deep. It shows the character of the Father.

Amazing to me how God can bring Himself so close to my face in the middle of a morning. I thought of the times i have felt so alone. Times when I believed no one loves me, feelings of not being accepted by anyone. I thought of little Faith and how one day someone is going to tell her she is not beautiful and she will believe them. God created each of us so uniquely. In the midst of the wedding, with beauty all around us, roses, white dresses, candles lit, there were dozens of children longing to ask that question of their maker. "Father, why do you love me?" I must admit I fear the question at times, because i fear the answer at times. I don't want to ask a question that will not be answered, or answered with 'I don't' , or with 'just because'. But I don't think that will be the answer. I think God sees us a bit differently than we see ourselves. And I praise Him for that.

When we commune with the Lord, he doesn't want us to just eat the bread, and drink the wine. Commune means talk to, relate with, remember, understand. So every time we commune with Him, the maker, I pray we will come boldly to Him and ask "why O Lord, do you love ME?" and we will sit and hear him say back to us, "I DO love you, because child, you are mine, you are chosen, you are...beautiful."

Why the fruit?

When i see something i want, i have to have it. what is it in me that makes me this way? I wonder if God designed us to feel the NEED for things that we really don't even need. I sit here 'needing' a new white shirt to go with my pants i just bought a few weeks ago. I have a shirt, but it is long sleeve and wont do for the summer. honestly i have been wearing the same dress clothes for probably 7 years. I don't dress up that much, so why buy new clothes? but as i walked out of the Gap (just dropping in there to see what was on sale) with 3 new shirts because they were only $5 each, i wondered, "what am i doing?". I didn't NEED them. I don't NEED much. Yet I sat at the table today and filled in the blanks of my never ending checkbook and watched my money be organized away. Over things, i don't need.

My pastor talked about giving this Sunday. I usually don't like to hear those lessons, but than i guess, who does. Typically i think i am a good giver. I don't usually fee like i need to give more than i already do. They are doing a campaign to raise money for a few new buildings. The title for it is, "Possessing the Land", and the sermon was on "Equal Sacrifice-Not Equal Gifts". I don't think i equally sacrifice with people. I don't believe i wait for much of anything. Yes yes, i can't go buy a car, or an i-pod, but if i want a soda, i buy one. If i want a new shirt and it is under $15, i buy it. That is not sacrifice. And then i was thinking about the Garden of Eden. Eve saw something she couldn't have, and she wanted it. And she knew God said, "trust me, that is not good for you, so don't touch it", but she still wanted it. I wonder how long she stood and stared at that tree allowing the enemy to taunt her thoughts. She must have weighed out the good and the bad, thinking that it couldn't hurt that much. It seems the things we think will only affect us, soon take root and affect everyone around us, changing things forever. Things we might never see. So she gives in, and eats. I wonder if her face was still sticky with fruit as she hid from her Creator. He still loves. And I still stare at the things i must have.

My Shrink

Yup, i know, don't fall over, but today i went to meet my 'counselor'. I have been debating for years now my need to talk to a stranger about my life. I would think I needed it, and then i would have a good day and think, naw..i will wait. And to be honest, a part of me thinks that because i am married to drew and he has a counseling degree that he could help me. And when we first got married, he did. and honestly, he still helps a lot, but I just decided i needed to go. In a way, I want to experience what i tell so many people to do.

I have been fearful because my first experience was not so good. I decided a month after my parents died that i should talk to someone. so i went to the counseling center at CMU and they gave me a man to talk to. He asked me why i was there and i told him and he started crying because a few days earlier he had lost his father. So he was crying and i was like, "ok..uh..now what do i do?" so i left and never went back again.

So, here I am. Her name is Marcia Lama, and she reminds me of Mrs. Doubtfire, well, actually, she reminds me of my friend's therapist. She is older, with the soothing office, werthers on the coffee table, pictures of soft flowers, and the couch. She met me at the window where I signed in and handed me 10 pages of things to fill out. so i began to write my lifes story and didn't finish until i was sitting in her office and she was helping me. I answered questions like what are the names of my parents, do I or have i ever done drugs, how often, what kind, am i addicted, is anyone in my family addicted, abused, etc. What are my health issues, headaches, and what are my hobbies. After filling out the forms, she went through and asked me why i answered things the way i answered them. Basically, i was just telling her about my life. I explained why my life is stressful, or why i feel sad at times, or feel anxious etc.

I liked her. It was really a get to know you session, and i go back to meet again on Monday. I am excited about it actually. I am anxious to hear what she has to say to me. I am hoping she will give me things to work on, homework, and she will teach me to be a better person. I am just so thankful for God directing me to the right person. I hope it continues to feel that way. But mostly i just think it is cool that i can now say, "Well, my therapist says..."

The Weeping Woman

Yesterday onetimeblind spent the whole day in New York City. We had so much fun and our day was filled with laughter on every corner. We started out by walking to Times Square and catching the subway to Grand Central Station. We then took the subway to the bottom of Manhattan to visit the Statue of Liberty. When we finished there, we took a train to the Village, Washington Square Park, Little Italy, Central Park, St. Patrick's Cathedral, Rockefeller Center and finally ending up in Times Square again that night. We were told it would rain, but it only came when we were eating lunch and a little sprinkle at the park.

We all agreed that yesterday was a day where time seemed strange to us. By the time we got to Central Park, we had thought we had seen the Statue of Liberty the day before. And with every moment came a million drops of laughter and memories. Except one moment. The moment where everything stopped.

I had never taken the boat to the island before, so it was a new and exciting thing for me. I had been told it wasn't a big deal, but I thought it was one of the best parts of the trip. We walked to the pier to get our tickets and us girls needed to take a restroom break. When I washed my hands I noticed an older woman, probably in her sixties, air drying her hands and walking out. She looked Italian and was just as disturbed by the dirty bathroom as I was. But this was New York, and in Battery Park, so I didn't expect much more. As she walked away, I thought about how many different cultures are in New York. It is so amazing. Earlier in the day, we saw a school bus full of Jewish men. Ryan and Laura were crossing the street and they almost got hit by the bus. One would think God's chosen would be a bit kinder, but, I guess everyone has a schedule to keep.

We boarded the boat that crossed the waters to see the Statue of Liberty up close. I took pictures the whole way so I could get a good feel for how far away we really were on land. The boat was filled with people of every nation it seemed, and all of us seemed to have questions. "Are we stopping at the Statue first, or Ellis Island?" ,a man next to us asked. My friend replied, "I think they are the same island.". He was wrong, and the kind gentleman shortly told him so. Laura got sea sick on the trip, but I loved it. I liked getting closer the the lady who represents freedom to us all.

We stepped onto the island, and much to my surprise, it was filled with buildings. Gift shops, refreshments, workers buildings, etc. We walked to a tent that was filled with souvenirs and as I approached it, I noticed the Italian woman from earlier walking past me quickly, her face looked strange. I followed her back to a small sitting area. I was just wanting to make sure she was ok. It looked like she was going to cry, but I wasn't sure. I took a picture. I know I shouldn't have, I broke into her private moment and stole from it, but I didn't want to forget, and I knew I was learning something. I started walking towards her to ask if I could help somehow. Her husband past me and reached her first at which time I decided this moment wasn't really to include me. He talked to her. Stood above her. Sat next to her. And she cried.

As I walked away, I started crying. I knew the group would wonder where I was and what I was doing, so I tried to catch up. But I couldn't stop wondering why this woman was crying. It made me wonder if this moment, seeing the Statue of Liberty, to her, was worth more than the $3 magnet at the gift shop. I wondered if for her, it meant freedom. Maybe she came to America to have a free life and to start over. Maybe she misses her family that she left behind, and her husband can do nothing but tell her they made the right move. Maybe she is being ridiculed for leaving her country, and her family wont speak to her or her children any more. She cried.

I know the tears could have meant anything that day. But for some reason, I just felt they meant something dear, something precious. She knows something I could not possibly understand. She worked for something I inherited. She understands the cost of freedom. I walked on and stood in line to watch 100 lbs of pressure form an image of the Statue of Liberty on my penny. God bless the USA.

bunk time

April 30, 2005 Conyers GA

It is raining, and i am sneezing. It is the first thunderstorm of the season and I love it. I saw the lighting a bit this morning and heard the thunder roll. It was great except for the fact that i didn't want to get out of bed. So i took my shower and crawled back in for 5 to 10 minute increments until I had to get ready.

I feel tired. The past week has not been very fun for me. I don't usually like to talk about my 'hard times' because i don't feel like they are as hard as other people's. I know that sounds stupid, but I guess i just look around and think, i know i feel sad or upset, but compared to other people's lives, my 'troubles' seem...I don't know the word.

Yesterday i wondered if Mother Theresa ever felt sad, or frustrated. I heard one time that her feet were deformed because she would give up her shoes for others. And when she would finally get a pair, they would be too small, which eventually, deformed her feet. I wonder if she regretted that ever. Or just felt like giving up. But then again, she was always surrounded with people dying, and she had life. So maybe she had a constant reminder of her blessing of life. She would spend day after day serving, without complaint. Very remarkable. But it is in these times that i wish I could know her. i mean not like the Mother Theresa saint that everyone 'knows', but the real her. To hear how she dealt with days of frustration and sadness. I know she must have had them.

As i sat in my bunk all day on Thursday, i just wanted a place to be alone and cry, and think. One of the bad things about travel, ministry, and living constantly with 6 other people. Everyone wanted me to know they loved me, and i did know that. But i still just need time. I just needed to sit with Jesus awhile. We were silent for a long time. I thought about how people have had experiences with the Lord in times of silence and 'trouble'. So i waited. But nothing happened. No revelation, no words, no hand holding, no peace. The only thing i felt like i was left with was my determination to continue this journey.

spin, spin, spin

Spinning out of control:

I sat in the church as i watched Eden spin. She has been spinning a lot lately, just for fun. She turns her body and flies her arms round and round until she finally falls over in laughter. And i tried to spin with her, to quickly find out she spins longer than i do. I get dizzy before she does and wonder if it is because she is closer to the ground? And my spinning doesn't end with giggles, but with this feeling of nausea. So as i sat and tried to not puke I watched her spin more. More spinning. More giggling. And that is when i began to wonder, at what age did i stop liking the feeling of being out of control?

I remember being a child and flipping on this bar thing that was in our back yard. It was really a large pipe from an old well, but to me, it was a playground. I would spin and spin on that thing as the old paint chipped off into my palms. I didn't mind, i was out of control. I would eventually let go and land on the ground watching the clouds spiral around me. And i smiled. Why did I smile? Why did i like that? I am still not sure.

But my real question is, when did i STOP liking it? At what point in my life did i decide feeling out of control wasn't fun? It could have been when i wanted more independence. I got a 'real' job working at Ponderosa Steakhouse when i was a sophomore in high school. Yes, i was the buffet queen, honestly, I was one of the best, and i took pride in always having the potatoes full and the bread hot. And every friday, i would get paid. A real paycheck that i could spend how ever I wanted. I remember buying my first 'stereo' and my first c.d. (they had just come out you know!), The Little Mermaid soundtrack. Embarrassing i know, but true. I thought i was the coolest. I then 'stepped up' to working at JC Penny's in the jewelry department and I bought a few gaudy pieces, because, why not? It was the 80's and I was starting to be cool. I was working, and it was MY money, right? And then...i was off, Independence. I was in control.

At some point several years later i recognized that I wasn't supposed to be in control. That was sort of foreign to me, and liberating. I was supposed to be making my decisions based on God? hmmmm. I had to think about that, but began i slow process of actually trying it. I gave Him a few decisions to see if He could handle it, and i couldn't believe it when He could. Now it seems i struggle to allow the Lord to take back the control that i stole from Him. I lost my focus thinking i could make the rules and the decisions. ugh. backtracking is not fun. Relearning, rethinking, retraining, is not fun.

And what is up with the falling? Who laughs when they fall? Yet giggles galour is what i heard coming from Eden. What was she trying to tell me, that falling is fun? I don't think that was it. Maybe it is more than the fall. I have watched Eden get hit in the head from lack of feet control probably 100 times, i mean, give her a break, she is one. But she keeps going, keeps giggling. Strange. So it has to be more than just the temporary pain of the fall. Yes, yes, she has a diaper to cushion her, but I don't think she cares. I think she just likes to feel, well, out of control.
But if only I could somehow get back those feelings of spinning round and round. If there was a way to reach out and say, "My arms are out, i am going around AND it will be ok when i fall!". But instead, I avoid falling as much as possible. I avoid the point where i sit still because i have to, I can't walk; too dizzy.

Where is my giggle i long for? I believe it is lost in the spin I am fearful of.

it has been awhile..

Yes, it has been awhile. I have been so preoccupied with the project we are working on for otb that i haven't taken any time to blog. ugh. but such is life. we are having a great time out here on the road with our friend Johanna. She rocks, and it has been great to have her spirit with us. I am not sure we have all laughed this hard in some time. but God is so good in bringing things together. We are trying to get her to stay longer. we are secretly stealing her away forever....well, that is the plan anyway.

but now it is 2:32 and i am super tired. I am in Minnesota staying at a Salvation Army Camp. It is more like a resort. we are staying on the second floor and have a view of the awesome lake. we also have a fire place and drew started the fire earlier. I closed the door because it was getting cold in here, but that was a mistake because now our room is filled with smoke. But it still smells of camp fire, which is one of my favorite smells.

i would love to write more..but sleep i must. we are going to matt's tomorrow for a cookout. yummy. but that means i have to get up early.

the fire is slowly dying, as is my computer battery.

Too Much Coffee & I Must Pee

I have been crazy busy with no time to write. this often makes me feel a bit tense but I am trying to not stress out ...ooo that stupid kitchen is calling me. I need dish soap to do my dishes, and i need juice to health my insides. But i am sad that i missed the visit with my friends the armstrongs. i love them so much, and miss them. But as i was sitting on the couch yesterday still feeling sick, i was thankful for time alone. So i hope to see them again soon.

it seems there is always lots going on, but i can't really put my finger on what it is. except that drew is still sleeping, kelly works too many mornings, jason is leaving soon, eden had her first ice cream cone yesterday, i almost had my laundry done when i found more dirty clothes, my computer is super loud, God is ALWAYS amazing me, I still have an easter basket to deliver, i should shower, finish emails from January-ugh, when am I going to work out?, I have 2 movies from family.org but can't watch them because they are 2 parters and i only have the second part..i DON"T recommend renting there, but it was free, oh, and i have to pee. I made quiche (sp?) this morning, and forgot to put the ham in it, so now it is veggie. But this is my life. and to be honest, i kinda like it. ok, really...i have to pee

Ajax intro

We have a bunny. His name is Ajax. Ajax is a new bunny to us, drew got him for Christmas, which actually turned into Valentines because Ajax wasn't born yet. He is so cute and it is strange how God allows us to learn so much from him. I was watching Ajax the other day, and he is getting to the stage where I think he is teething. He is ALWAYS chewing on things. He will hop around the house and chew on the base boards, videos, cords, boxes, paper, even metal (although that doesn't work very well for him). We have been told that Ajax can be trained, which is a great thing. So we have taught him to use the litter box, just like a cat, and he is learning that "NO" means don't do something. Ajax's favorite things to chew on are my rugs and carpet. He will sneak over to my rugs and when I am not looking he will chew them. I don't really mind that much, but the problem is, if he ingests the threads off of the rug, he will get the equivalent of a hair ball. This for a cat is not a problem because they can hack it up, which is fun to watch. But for bunnies, the hair ball just sits there in the belly and eventually it has to be surgically removed. So to avoid the vet bill, and to help Ajax, we are teaching him not to eat carpet and rugs.

One day I was sitting on the couch and Ajax walked, well hopped, up and started biting at the carpet. I told him, "No, no Ajax!" and then clapped my hands in a loud way. This is how we were told to discipline him because you are never supposed to hit a bunny.
Bunny experts say they turn violent or something. I continued to discipline the only way I could, clap, whistle, yell loudly etc at Ajax, but he didn't respond to me. I did see him stop, then look up at me, but then continue to bite at the carpet. So I came towards him thinking this would scare him away from it. Nope. Then I got down on the floor and put my nose to his and said, "No, no bunny." but still, nothing. So I put my hand under his mouth so he couldn't chew anymore. It wasn't until then that he looked up at me and I had his attention. He finally hopped away. And I was thinking, "man, what is your deal bunny. This is not good for you, just trust me!" and there it was. Me and God.

I felt the frustration He feels with me when He is trying to get my attention, or telling me not to do something. I am so focused on what I want, that I am not willing to even look up at Him. Or maybe I do look up and decide not to do what He says. So He has to come to me, get in my face, and sometimes take away the thing that I am 'loving'. And only then will I look to Him and really SEE Him. And sigh in my frustration for wandering once more. Or like Ajax, just hop away to find something else, instead of staying with my master.

It is strange how God loves us anyway and just like with Ajax, two minutes after I was done telling him "no", he was making me laugh. Jumping, sniffing, playing with paper, and I sit and smile at him. And then turn my face up and smile again, just to say thanks.

me in Montana

This was taken a few years ago, but i wanted to try make sure i knew how to upload pics. Otb was in Montana and it was FREEZING! So we thought it was a great day for a photo op. and yes, my butt was cold.

dreams and such

So i have wasted all of my time that i wanted to write by trying to get to this page so i CAN write. Even with drew's great directions i was for some reason trying to create a new blog. Maybe this blogging thing is not for me.

But i will keep on because when i get frustrated about things and feel stupid inside, i remember Edison and how i have been told he tried hundreds of time before he discovered electricity. That is a lot of failing, but i am thankful he didn't give up. i like my hot water and my coffee maker. yes, i know, there would be other ways, but hey, i wouldn't be on the computer now would i?

i am realizing some of you might read my blogs and get to know the 'real' me. So, i guess that is the way it goes. you just might walk away going, wow, she is weird or better yet, mental. but i have decided i am ok with that.

I just remembered how i dreamed last night that i flipped off ryan during a show. it is strange though because the crowd was like a festival or something, but we don't do festivals. and i was mad at ryan about something and so i flipped him off. The crowd saw it, but i didn't care. i always dream. every night i dream of something. sometimes they are just silly, but my brother kelly tells me no dreams are silly. some are just harder to figure out. i think he is the smartest person i know. i have been tempted so often to send him all of my dreams and tell him to figure them out for me. or give me the deep meaning behind me running down my high school hallway with no pants on, or in this case flipping off ryan during a show. But i am afraid of bombarding him with meaningless dreams. and when i really do get one i want to know about, i don't want to use up all of my 'dream meaning' time with high school days, ya know?

Have you ever had a dream that was so real you thought for sure it really happened? i have had a few of them. and honestly, i am still not sure it didn't happen. i still expect to see some of the items that were in my dream. someone gave me a book in the dream and it was the most beautiful book i have ever seen. filled with events in my life, and things that mean the most to me. when i woke up from the dream i cried. i felt it was SO real. I was at an otb show and i had to (after waking up from this dream) some how shake off this dream and get in the van and go to eat dinner with the sponsor. it messed me up for the rest of the night. Maybe dreams are why i like the matrix so much. there is a difference between the dream world and reality, but we just are not sure which is which. we can think we are living in reality (my dad used to tell me, 'wait till you are in the real world!'. I should have told him I could hardly wait, and i couldn't wait till he got there either! dang, 15 years and now i think of what to say to that comment. figures.) yet i don't really believe this is the REAL life, but just something we are in for only 100 years. that is not a very long time. i know it seems like a long time--like when i sit in the doctors office waiting...waiting...waiting... but soon enough the doctor comes. I am trying to live a life in the 'dream' i can not see yet. i feel it in my bones, and i know that it is there, calling me back..home. but i am stuck here for a time.

This is NOT the adventure. this is like the painful sucky time where we have to get ready for the adventure. you know, like when i go camping. packing the truck, getting the food ready, what will i wear, where should we go, do you have the map?, don't forget the hiking shoes, and the extra cash, and the good music. then finally, we are in the truck. only to turn around and go back in, because we forgot our coffee. (can't tell you how often we do that) when i go camping. Drew HATES the getting ready. he looks at me and shakes his head. he doesn't like all the stuff I do to get ready to go. But i keep working, planning for one reason. Campfire. there are lots of things i love about camping, but the one thing i love the most, is the campfire. as i pack up, i can see myself sitting there smelling the wood burn and tasting my smore melt as i savor it in my mouth. I can hear the owls, and the wolves. I glare at the moon and watch it as it goes behind the clouds. moments of stars and then starless, then stars again. thousands of them. Moving my boots away from the fire because i didn't notice they were starting to smoke and melt. and smiling, because i am not alone in this world. I have those who will go with me and live life along side of me. seeing them through campfire lighting, my favorite way to see.

but without thinking about that, seeing it, almost smelling it, i might not ever make it through the packing, and planning. i think most people loose sight of the unseen. and the danger of that is they begin to believe this is it for them. Like creating teh ending to the story of Cinderella that wasn't meant to be, they change the way they were made to live. And because of that, they aren't truly living.

ok, enough babblings for now.