Two Roads

There are two roads from which i get to choose to go down. one to the right, and one to the left. I believe each will get me to my destination, they look a lot alike really, trees, green, the paths are similar. does it matter which one i take? they both seem to be bending the same, but i am not sure which one to go pick.

On this hike, we looked for a min, and started walking in one direction. I think it was the rigth, or was it the left? It didn't matter because eventually they came together. But that initial step, that choice, i just made it with no fear. I just realized if it sent me a wrong way, i could turn around and take the other road. it would be more work, but it wouldn't be the end of the world.


choices. Sometimes we put so much weight on which way to go, that we never move. We remain and there we die. or at least grow tired. I have watched many of my friends burrow into that place of non-decision. Over where to work, where to live, what car to buy. Months, even years pass without a decision being made.

It is a risk to choose one over the other because we have no idea where it leads. Or what is waiting for us on the other side. But one thing is for sure, it can't be any worse then just standing here wondering which way is best. I guess i just want peace about my decisions in life. i don't want to walk in the way of confusion or wonder. God brings peace. He offers it, gives it. May He bless my choice no matter which way i choose to go.

And maybe I am to choose one path for now, and later be moved to another. Maybe what i am feeling is a journey of places. In that one place doesn't feel any more right than the other. They both feel equally strange. Maybe we are to go to the right, but to later meet up with the left. So knowing that, in my spirit, I feel a bit more settled. Transitions. They are temporary. If we don't like a place, we move again. Maybe we need to just move and then we will understand more of where we are supposed to be? If we take the initial step, the doors might open, and leading will come forth.

I guess moving towards one path doesn't mean that is the last path. Maybe it just means I am moving again. Someone just told me,"any movement is forward movement.". Maybe that is the case.

ah the russians..

"..and that is how we solved Russian Communism."

i wake up to my radio alarm. It was on npr this morning and this is what i heard before pushing the button, smiling and drifting back to sleep for 10 more winks. someone else is at work on that communism issue...i knew it was going to be a good day.

my stick shift

I have recently learned (again) how to drive a stick shift. My husband and I were blessed to be given a 2001 Subaru. It is in great shape, and we were so excited about getting it. It came in perfect time as our other two vehicles were dying. My husband told me all of the fancy features from a cd player to butt warmers. I was so excited to start driving this blessing. It is the first nice car we will own. I pictured myself driving to our local Target in style, with my warm bottom cheeks. And then he told me the bad news, it is a stick shift. This is the worst news ever. Rust I could handle, no radio would be hard, but I would deal with that, but a stick shift! My spirits and dreams started to sink down. My trips to Target were now filled with my husband in the drivers seat. This isn't bad, but now I am on his schedule, and alone time will be harder. I had a decision to make, spend every day, all day at home, or learn to drive the trecherous stick shift.

We were meeting friends and my husband was riding with others, the only way I could get to the restaurant was if I drove our car. I looked at it in the parking lot mocking me. I wondered what the car would look like after it's first trip with me. And then I wondered what the other car would look like, you know, the one I will hit. But I pulled myself out of these thoughts and I decided it was time, and got in to start it. Much to my suprise, it started the first time! Now reverse, then first gear..stop sign...first gear...stop sign..speed bump (took that a bit to fast!) and out of the drive way! I was so excited to be on the road without any stallings. First gear, second gear, fifth gear, uh, wait, what's that noise?! I went from second gear to fifth and somehow stalled the car. I pulled over on the side of the road, cars racing by, my adrenaline pumping and my nerves out of control. "I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THIS!" I yelled through my tears and fear. I stared the car up again, and drove it to my destination. I made it fine. It was rush hour, and i was very nervous. When i got out of the car, I hoped I never had to drive it again.

But i knew if I ever wanted to go anywhere, I would have to get in that seat once more. The next time I did, was the week before Christmas. Traffic was super bad, and I stalled it a million times. I cried. I stopped, took a breather, ate some chicken wings, and got back in the drivers seat. The thing is, I had no choice. I had to get back in if I wanted to get home. My life is much like this 2001 Subaru.

Everyday I wake up wondering how I am going to make it one more day. I look at the big picture of the ministry I am in, and my bills piling up, and my friendships and family, and I wonder how it is going to work out. How is it going to be ok? I suddenly get that feeling in my stomach. The one that is much like butterflies, but evil ones. It hurts and eventually eats away at the lining in your stomach. I stop, cry and take a breather. "One day at a time, one hour, one minute", is the phrase I tell myself. That is how I live. That is how I get rid of those evil butterflies in my stomach. Trusting that God will kill every one of them with His promise to take care of me. And I DO love Him, but it is in all of this jerking and gear shifting and even stalling that I get confused and want to stop driving all together. But I can't really. Because I have to keep going, if I want to get home.

kaleidoscope

i love kaleidoscopes. My mother used to collect them before she pasted away. I have her collection now. She only had a few, but i love looking at them. Each one is so unique and makes its own pattern. When you turn the dial, shapes and colors collide and create new creations of beauty and my eyes never grow tired of these changes.

When i look at my own life, I wonder why it is that I hate change. Change was happening so much in my life this past year, it seemed I couldn't keep up, and I hated it. But now that changing has slowed down, I don't like where it has stopped. I am at the place in the ferris wheel where you are almost done, getting off the ride, but not quite. So you suspend in air and the view isn't that good, and you can't touch the ground yet, so you just dangle and wait. I am dangling and waiting. Holding my breath for the next change. And understanding that there are more colorful patterns to see.

random thoughts while waiting

There is something about this area. Have I convinced myself of it? Do I feel, really feel different when I am here? As we step off the bus I get stepped on, weighted down. Oppression. I need to feel free. I need to feel awake and alive. The longer I stay, the worse it gets. How do i step past these happenings in my life? Where do I go to get the magic pill of freedom? Will I be different in a different city? Could life be better? I don't even know how I would get there. This is how people get stuck. I need to be unstuck. What can we do to be alive again? Is this all there was? I know once I am in sight of the stage, the people...I soar.

I wouldn't see myself as an encourager, yet I encourage. There is something about truth that draws people out of our present state and leaves us begging for more. We were created for righteousness. So when we see it, without understanding or knowing what is happening, we long to be corrected. We want to be right. As much as our selves fight to be right alwyas, (even if we are wrong) we long, need, want to be right in the most right way. In the most pure form of right-ness. Righteousness. So, we live our lives as best we can whle looking for ways to become or improve our righteousness. When we find these pieces of treasure (sometimes they look like a whole chocolate cake, sometimes like a small piece of baklava-both delicious!) we savour it, make it a part of ourselves and then look for more.

I have found these people, prophets, these righteous words are in such things as sermons, magazines, art, people, books, nature. Because God can speak anywhere, and at any time. We don't know where we will find these random treasures, so we must always be looking for these treasures of correction. Ready to receive.

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?