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.