a Dei... Love, faye

We Deserve it.

2011-11-28T07:54:00.000-08:00

   I used to think about all good things, "I don't deserve this," in this godly, grateful way, in awe of everything given by grace. But what I am realizing is that there is an even better truth: I DO deserve it, whatever it is. I deserve everything that perfect Jesus deserves.
   So when I am going after something I want, I can ask myself the question, "Does Jesus deserve this?" Because we have already established that our desires are good since we have the mind of Christ, the answer is probably yes. That means I deserve it, too!
   Humility is one of the most attractive qualities about that man, and yet, He knows how to say no to what is good to free Himself to say yes to the best. And I'm the daughter of my perfect Heavenly Father, so whatever my big brother Jesus deserves, I do, too.
   If I'm stuck in a job that I don't like, there is a reason I don't like it, and I'm not being selfish or ungrateful to believe there is something better and keep searching and interviewing until I get it. What glory does it give to God if I'm stuck in a bad relationship where I'm not being honored or cherished or appreciated for who He created me to be? In the same way, I can choose to allow my circumstances build my character, but not to the point of settling for less than I deserve. When I am not being utilized for my strengths and talents, and my brain is slowly shutting down from lack of stimulation, truthfully, I deserve better because Jesus deserves to get more out of me!
   If I complain because my heart is broken, it is only because I know there is a higher height to be attained. I could complain out of false humility, or my complaints could be derived from a sense of entitlement. Without swinging either way into these extremes, it is not prideful to determine that we deserve better, or more. How will we reach the fullness Christ paid for if we don't believe this about ourselves?
   If there is something I want but what I really believe about myself is that I don't deserve it, then I am going to go after it half-heartedly. Instead, I should be recognizing the opportunity to achieve God's best and go for the gold! Our achievements as the Body of Christ should raise the bar for the rest of the world. When someone is praying for my healing, and I test it out, let's be honest: I expect to still feel the pain. We need to let God re-wire our minds to expect to be given what we are asking for! If it were Jesus' body, (which it in fact is because He dwells in us) wouldn't we have the mentality that He deserves it? So get it!
   You are allowed to say, "That's mine, I'll take it!" We can sit in the midst of a field of dandelions and say, "Thanks, God, for making these weeds pretty," or we can walk ten steps into the unlocked fragrant rose garden next door, and sing and dance there. Which would actually delight our Father? There is a place for contentment in less-than-desirable circumstances and a gratitude for being stretched, being thankful for all things. But I think we are supposed to be thankful for all things because God brings good out of them, not because the things in and of themselves are necessarily good. We can rejoice because we have the cloud and the fire with us on our journey, but personally, I'm not going to start laying bricks on the other side of the river from my Promised Land. I'll make it a well while I'm on my way, and keep moving forward until I get there.

Heaven and Hail

2011-08-03T05:05:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up at 5am. It did not make me happy, but I was saturated in the Presence. So I asked what was up.

Interestingly, I was thinking of The Office after watching two episodes last night. The Office makes me think of LA. And screenwriting. A workshop I once attended brought up Jim and Pam and the way their relationship was built up throughout seasons. I thought about how long ago that was, and how much longer thereafter was the proposal. God told me to google the proposal, to figure out the airdate.

I took off my eyemask, which I rarely wear, to look it up on my phone (that way I don't have to get out of bed and maybe I have a chance at going back to sleep). There was a ton of lightening, like a strobe light, and no thunder. There have been a couple of times that God has woken me up at random times and said, "don't be afraid; pray" right before a mini-earthquake near LA. Once I saw the lightening I wondered if there was a tornado coming, (a legitimate concern after the tornadoes that have ripped through the midwest this summer) that may have woken me up itself if I hadn't woken up at 5am on my own, and maybe God was warning me to get out of bed.

I heard, "Exodus" and I knew the air date was to give me numbers to look up, like a little treasure hunt. It was September 25 (2008) that someone had written a review of that particular episode, so the air date must have been the 24th.

Exodus 9:25 (NLT) says, "It left all of Egypt in ruins. The hail struck down everything in the open field—people, animals, and plants alike. Even the trees were destroyed." I looked back at verse 24 (KJV) and it was worse: "So there was hail, and fire mingled with the hail, very grievous, such as there was none like it in all the land of Egypt since it became a nation."

I didn't really like that. If I ever get a word or a verse that is negative, I have to look for the "But God..." that comes next. There was devastating fire and hail like Egypt had never seen, that destroyed the land. BUT, "where the children of Israel were, there was no hail" (Exodus 9:26).

That obviously didn't connect for me, because it's August, and it doesn't hail in August anyway. Once in July when I was like 8, it did, suddenly, in the middle of the day, when I was standing alone on my porch. Basically, hail in the midwest in the summer is actually extremely rare.

This was important for me because yesterday I was uncovering this deep-seated belief of a lie that I don't hear from God well- that I am typically hard of hearing, and usually wrong. It's not that He doesn't speak to me, it's that I never quite get it. I listened to a message that ended up being about hearing from God, and the fact that He answers our prayers- that He IS Who He IS in spite of our doubt. That stupid lie- it's really hindered my prayers lately, and I wanted out of it. So I repeated all day, "I hear from You! You speak my language! You know just what to say, and just how to say it so I understand!"

I've also been talking to God lately about His timing, and the tension that dreams create when we're not ready to pursue them, or we do pursue them and fail. And how hard it is to trust that some things not seeming to work out were brought into our lives in the right timing- how timing is not necessarily the issue, because there's this thing God operates under called "leeway"- or rather, grace. And when we are having doubts, it is from a lack of trust, and lack of trust comes from not really understanding God's grace.

Getting a verse like that, completely irrelevant, or so vaguely connected it doesn't make sense, could have been really discouraging. But I chose in faith to see if maybe, just maybe that "storm" had anything to do with hail. It really seemed to just be heat lightening, because there wasn't even all that much rain. I checked the Weather ap on my phone, and in Indianapolis, there was no indication of rain, not a cloud on the doppler, and no severe weather warnings, either. And honestly, the flashes of light coming in my window were more likely to be coming from the air field next door. I figured I didn't need to go outside, because if there were hail, it would be reported.

However, I did not have my location services on. There was nothing going on in Indianapolis. In Fishers, the doppler showed green cloud- light rain, and little spots of orange-red. And there was a severe weather warning for a severe thunderstorm "capable of producing quarter-sized hail".

He protects. He always protects. In the midst of my doubt, He uses things like The Office (remember the proposal happened in the rain- I can't remember rain in any other episode) to remind me that even in the rain, He sees me, and quiets the thunder so I can hear His voice.

The Merry-Go-notalltheway-Around

2010-12-04T16:50:00.000-08:00

"Actually, this is a ferris wheel- that doesn't go all the way around. He has established some sort of a stop. In the past, you had anticipation: things look good, then they go low again... -It's not going down. It's still moving, to have variety, between up, and up. Up... way up... up. Back and forth, day and night; skip the low; glory to glory."

"China"

2010-12-03T12:13:00.000-08:00

"I have both The Oppressed and The Oppressor in me," my German, African-American, Native American, miscellaneously-blended friend told me. Because of the reconciliation he's walked out, he carries this ability to diffuse stereotypes and dismantle racism. At an American diner one night, we talked about how everyone in our country has had to learn to get along with those who are different. Some of us have grown up in certain cultures where everyone is very much the same. There are Americans who never noticed the differences in skin color and religion and custom. Others were taught to fear or even hate those who were different. We may have had ancestors who tried to blend in to the point of forgetting their native languages, or maybe we had parents who, in their native pride, pretended they didn't understand English.

It defies even the faint smackings of ignorance to choose to live and thrive in a Culture of Honor. Church, this must be our goal. I'm certainly not suggesting we've gotten here perfectly or don't still have a lot of growing up to do.

But what I see is that however buried, this Kingdom mindset is carried in the heartbeat of America. Somewhere within the fabric of our melting pot is the faith that we all belong here, and we will make it together if we try. We are patriotic because we've had to be; to defend this value, because we know it is right and good. Plus, we're programmed Invincible, so we know we can do anything with a little elbow grease.

"Wait. You’re forgetting something- this chat:

Two men; one white, one latino.

A boss and a money-cruncher.

I could fire you.
But here we are.
My point is that as long as people like you and me don’t stop talking, nobody can stop the USA. I am talking about freedom; about choice.
America, I don’t think you need to worry, because if you wanna beat China, you will; if you don’t, that’s fine. That, my friend, is your victory.
You know, a lot of people say that if you dig long enough and hard enough you will get to China, and that may be true. But what they don’t tell you is that if you dig long enough and hard enough in a conversation, you get to a friend."

-Michael Scott, The Office

The Next Three Days

2010-11-27T11:20:00.000-08:00

   Holy Spirit always talks to me about movies while I'm watching them. Within the first 10-20 minutes of The Next Three Days, I was reminded of a time in my life when everyone was criticizing me, telling me who to be, trying to fix me, as well as actually slandering me, treating me poorly, and spreading rumors about me, talking about me behind my back and tuning me out to my face. My previous significant other had been more willing to defame my character and steal my friends than come clean himself. It is such a contrast to the way the husband in the film sees and treats his wife. He knows her and believes in her integrity so strongly that he gives up everything for the truth.
   My first thought was about how I could be like him, because I value that. Holy Spirit reminded me about how strongly I backed up my ex while everything was falling apart, putting him above myself. But then it struck me that I was wrong about him, and more protective of him, the guilty, than he was of me, the innocent. We were out of order. A husband's true role and the heart of a man the way God created it to be is in risking everything, willing to lose nothing. For awhile, all it took for the wife to survive was her husband's faith in her. I wondered what it would have been like if right after The Incident, I had had one person to back me up like that.
    "I was there," Holy Spirit nudged me. And that He was, and defended me to the end. While all of the evidence pointed to her guilt and even after she told him she did it (even though she didn't), He never stopped believing in her and trusting her. He gave up His life to free her.

RAN

2010-11-11T11:41:00.000-08:00

When I was waking up from the anesthetic after surgery last year, I breathed in deeply. It felt great. Jesus was sitting next to me and talking my ear off. “You feel that?” He asked. Mmmm, yes. Aahhh. “I healed your asthma.”
He certainly had, but I wondered if it would wear off with the anesthetic. “If you don’t believe Me, it will go away. The enemy will try to tell you it didn’t happen. Remember that it did.”
So today, almost a year after my surgery, when I went for a walk, I decided to run. I’ve been wanting to so badly. For at least 2 months after the surgery, I had walked with a limp. So this morning, despite the high altitude, I ran. And ran and ran. And was out of breath, but breathing, like the air I was sucking in was actually making it into my bloodstream pumping through my veins. And laughed and laughed.

Mozambique

2010-09-23T17:44:00.000-07:00

   Heidi Baker tells the best stories. Not only does she have incredible experiences, but she has such an adorably engaging way of relating them. I have had tons and tons of people tell me I should meet her and I should work with her. After the first few times, I figured I should figure out who she is. Since then, I’ve had several dreams about her and read one of her books. When I was 18 I knew I would one day be building schools in Africa and sat with an atlas, hypothetically choosing Mozambique. Little did I know God wasn’t going to let that one go.
   After I heard her in person, I had a dream that I was doing face-painting while she was speaking somewhere, and she told everyone who had a heart for Africa to raise their hands. Then she told them she knew which specific country for each of them and they should come forward for release. I was still busy doing whatever when Bill Johnson found me, excited and asked, "Faye! Did Heidi tell you what country?" I told him no, because I hadn't gone up yet, and he said, "well go on up!" and I said, well, she's giving me a ride home later, so I'll ask her then.
   So then she's driving us on this crazy roller-coaster train track in a car and drunk as all get-out and I'm like, "I hear a train coming" and she's like, well duh, this is a train track! and I'm like, "Heidi, slow down," and she's like, we have to get home! and I'm like, "people are NOT supposed to drive drunk, you know. It's illegal here in the 'States." (hah that one is so funny to me, my legalism working itself out.) And THEN she just laughs at me! and tells me I have a question for her.
   So I'm like, oh yeah, so, what country-
   "...in Africa."
   Yeah, Heidi, in Africa... thanks for correcting me.
   "Which country in Africa?" she laughs and laughs and laughs.
   I don't find this funny. "Heidi, which country did God tell you for me?"
   Heidi laughs, "... in Africa!"
   I'm frustrated. "Heidi... which country?"
   "Africa."

Sometimes

2010-08-22T19:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes bad things happen to good people.
Sometimes you fight really hard for something good and sometimes you lose.
Sometimes what you lost was good and it doesn't come back.
Sometimes a loss is just a loss with no replacement.
Sometimes you lose something really good and there isn't something better.
Sometimes something better never comes.
Sometimes the reason that "everything always happens for-"
is a really bad reason.
Sometimes God's will doesn't happen.
Sometimes God doesn't swoop in and make things better.
Sometimes the bottom drops out.
Sometimes there is no net to catch you.
Sometimes some things break that can not be fixed.
Sometimes all you want is a hug, not a solution.
Sometimes you do not want a hug, but a solution.
Sometimes hope is deferred and clinging to that hope can make your heart sick.
Sometimes what you buried doesn't grow.
Sometimes completely new seeds must be sown.

No matter how much Peter loved her, what made the Pan refuse to grow, is that...

2010-07-09T19:26:00.000-07:00

Well, what?
What could Peter possibly find more appealing than Wendy?
What is the Hook that brings him- holds him, rather- back?

Wendy wants to steal him from adventure. Something in Peter knows this, and runs. She wants to tame him, give him manners, suit him up and sit him down in an office to make him bring home the bacon.

But that boy can fly.

Wendy is just a girl, trying to become a woman. Her fear of the unknown steers her toward control. At best, all she can hope to become to those boys is a smother.

When I was on the ship the other night, one of my boys hobbled by. Frustrated and angry, he tried to hide his tears as he hurried past me. He had just tried to unlock a door and given up. The pirates were coming, and we were running out of time. He went elsewhere to hide.

A marine came in and swept him up. Unlocking the door for him, he carried the boy outside to teach and train him. To usher him into safety and protect him. To make a man out of him.

I walked over to the door and locked it. I pulled out a rudimentary piece of chalk. Next to the small round knob to deadbolt the door, the one the boy could not open, I drew a heart and wrote his initials inside.

That boy had cerebral palsy.

The next time he went to the door, he would find it locked, and have to figure out a way to unlock it. But that time, he would not be discouraged. He would know I had been there, and locked it on purpose. And he would see that I was encouraging him, not there doing it for him, but making it so that he had to do it himself. I knew he could do it. He was capable.

My mother heart has been activated.

Beauty

2010-06-28T03:17:00.000-07:00

My dear darling daughter,
    Be well. I am requiring you to walk very close to me. Avoid busy-ness. Rest much. Learn to say no. You MUST learn these skills to survive the next season, when it will be hard to find Me, and your eyes give a bad report.

    When circumstances are not what we hoped for, we must seek Him. And literally, when our minds fail to develop perspective on what our eyes perceive, we struggle in search to get to Him. Little do we know in these moments that it is rest that dissipates the thickening fog.

    In particular, when we women are confused about a man, in romantic relationship, it tends to form a cloud around God. We walk around in our minds like a bride still searching for our Groom. He is there, and He comes to us in rest and quietness.

    Adam needs to learn to do the same. A lovely woman recently came to town, totally appalled by the gross amount of older singles. As a group of us was veering off in different directions, she stopped me and began a lecture on marriage. I did tell her she was preaching to the choir. All of us late 20's- early 30's singles to whom she was referring, all like, 100 of us, have the desire to marry. But we acknowledged there is a block, like everyone is waiting for their perfect 10. I believe it has to do with fear, guided by a spirit of divorce (concision) and abortion (genocide/racism) and self-sufficiency (independence/pride). All of these lies oppose covenant, which says, "I will love you for better or for worse," and enforce STANDARDs- which is just another way to say LAW.

    But first things first, Eve: you don't know your beauty or recognize the strength of it. You don't appreciate the physicality of the radiance from Jesus within you- you think it's all spirit- let alone the femininity and beauty with which your Father God first created you. It's really simple. And I think that if you did trust it, you wouldn't question why any man with interest has ever said he's not attracted to you. You would realize fully that it's something blocking him, and not something wrong with you. "Maybe it's because I'm _____" wouldn't be a thought in your mind.

    Picture God's creation of you and how He delighted in the way He specifically hand-picked your parts, your body and your looks, and then watch the Holy Spirit's active involvement in your life from the time the specific sperm and egg were chosen and joined and you were conceived in form and being and your body was given life, through the years of your childhood and recognizing Jesus in your life. Make the connections. And see His love for your physical being throughout every moment of it. He didn't stop loving the body He made and gave you at any point.

    If you don't love your body, how can you expect a man to sexually? This question keeps coming up lately when this lie seeps in that I have to go back down 15 pounds and be able to fit into my clothes and get back to myself and fully heal from my surgery before I am ready to start dating someone. Like I am somehow not enough, or deficient until then. Then I go the other way and believe that if a man were to be attracted to me NOW, it would prove his love for me, and then when I do get back to full health, it would be like a reward to him. Not a reward in and of itself, to me, but for someone else, mind you. Ridiculous. Here's my campaign: Your body is good! Today! Now! Ever since I arrived in LA and recognized such a strong spirit of body-hate, I have wanted to make a billboard that simply says, "Your body is good." When we women realize this, the valleys below will see it as light, and will veer away from such extreme sexual dysfunction in our land (ahem, world).

    I used to think that my nose was a consequence of the Fall. Not even joking. Punishment, even. I hated it, planned on having cosmetic surgery asap to "fix" it, like there was something bad and wrong about it. I would push on it to wear down the bone. I couldn't sit next to anyone in a way that allowed them to see my profile. I was completely self-conscious about it, all of the time. I cried about it a lot. A lot.

    One day I imagined that I was with God when He was creating me and picking out my parts, and He asked me to choose my nose, and I actually chose the one I have- as a martyr! My attitude about it was that I would take the ugly one so someone else didn't have to deal with it. It was soooo noble of me.

    Can we say poverty mentality!? And does God make anything WRONG!? Like there's this Baby Parts box in heaven that has good AND ugly in it. No, ugliness is all in our depraved minds.

    Another day, God took me back to that memory and was like, I want you to actually remember this, because this moment DID happen. I DID choose this nose, for you; recognize that it is good because I made you the way you are out of the riches of My goodness. I remembered the moment of my spirit seeing His delight in sending me to earth with it on purpose.

That purpose was beauty.

We ARE beautiful. Even in our flesh, we bear the image of a beautiful God. In spite of what we've done and do to cover and compensate, we still contain physical beauty.

I was told last week that “beauty is my orange juice” in this next season. I don't know if it so much refers to me going out to engorge myself on art and nature, but to keep looking in the mirror until my eyes give a good report.

Beauty is at rest- in that it is beautiful; in its beauty.

    I believe Adam needs Eve to recognize and fully gain confidence in her beauty to diffuse the lie of the world's STANDARD of beauty. Enemy does NOT want this, because in this is our power. Beauty at rest is our greatest strength as a woman.

    I think of it like holding a crying baby. If you hold the baby gingerly or insecurely, it senses anxiety and will continue to cry. But no matter what is wrong or how upset the baby is, the resolution to remain calm will override any storm.

     Remember my mom, the ridiculously stunning one... the whole time I was growing up, people would feel the need to comment on how gorgeous she is. And then after that, sometimes along with it or sometimes unattached, people would feel the need to point out how much I looked like my dad. Girls are NOT supposed to look like their fathers- their fathers are men!

    So as awful as that lie was, it was made worse by my mom herself perpetuating it. She one time flat-out called me ugly. Another time, a friend of mine had had this birthday party where they hired a professional makeup artist to come in and "do her colors" which meant giving us certain lines of cosmetics and telling us how to be most attractive, holding up differently colored cloths and showing how they brought out our best features and negated our worst ones. (Good LORD, why do women do this to each other!?) Shortly thereafter, my mom would not take me to get makeup, although the party had CONVINCED me that I needed it and was ashamed to be seen publicly without officially "having my colors done" at a makeup counter in the mall. Nothing else would do, because the makeup counter at the mall held all authority in whether or not I was to be found beautiful.

Then I got over it, resigning myself to always be ugly.

    Suddenly one day driving in the car, my mom asked me if I wanted to "go get my colors done." Because I didn't trust her, sensing it was a trap (she had already said I couldn't and wouldn't take me, so I didn't believe she wanted to), I said no. She must have felt rejected, although at the time, I didn't realize what a projection of her mother a daughter is. Her quick response was, "GAWD, Faye, don't you ever want to be pretty?" I was a tomboy, totally comfortable with the rest of my body from being a swimmer and running around all the time in a Speedo with a towel around my waist, skinned-up shins from climbing trees and playing soccer. No one had ever called me that. So, no, mom, at age 13, pretty has never yet actually occurred to me. All I know is that you're pretty and I don't look a thing like you.

    After that conversation, I knew I was in serious trouble for bringing ugly to the world. I was apparently at a serious deficit, and there was nothing I could do, because she would never take me to that makeup counter now. The truth is, she could have never called me beautiful, no matter how I looked, because she has never known that she herself is.

    This is a tragedy that leads to (both sexes) seeking completion in anything and everything else besides Jesus. I believe it has led to a full half of why we are all still single. Daughters of Eve, it’s on us. Be beauty. Rest in it. Cease from striving. The earth is groaning in eager expectation waiting for us to be revealed in our glory. And let’s not forget that woman is the glory of the man.

Isaiah 30:15, Matthew 25:1-10, Luke 12:22-23, 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, Proverbs 20:3, Romans 8:19, 1 Corinthians 11:7, 1 Corinthians 15:43, Colossians 3:4

The Question

2010-06-08T07:00:00.001-07:00

How will you answer the question buzzing around LA's spiritual space? Your identity depends on it.

Deep within every naked woman posing to incite lust is the question, "Am I beautiful?" Her answer has been no. That may seem off-base, because of the pride or the obscenity, but she does not know that she is beautiful, and is looking to you for the answer.

If a girl does not have this question answered by her father or a father figure who points her to the fearful and wonderful way she was made by her Heavenly Father, she will turn to Adam in a fearful way. She will look to him for love in the only way she seems to have power.

And this man, these men, do not know that they are enough, complete in Him, on their own. So they use her in the only way they seem to have power. She does not and can not satisfy their question: Does he have what it takes? She does not know.

Years ago I looked in the mirror, covered in Ugly, ashamed. I wanted to vomit. I greatly desire your beauty, the King whispered. He had seen me. I wanted to hide. My beauty? With a glimmer of hope, I looked back at myself. Then reasoned, What beauty? ...your beauty... You are beautiful. Then argued, Not so, Lord; how could You say that? With ferocity, he demanded, Who told you you weren't? His answer, implied: "It wasn't Me."

Jeremiah and Dark Chocolate

2010-05-11T07:16:00.000-07:00

My whole life, for as long as I can remember, I have been learning about what Jesus did when He was here, and waiting for Him to return. Growing up Catholic seems to have taught me that I had to go through a priest, who convenes with Jesus, to get to God the Father, and the Holy Spirit is hovering somewhere near me all the time. "Some day my prince will come," was the blessed hope instilled in me by the evangelical purity campaign. But with the promise of something THAT good, who wants to wait? Marrying a man in the meantime started to sound like settling; or something to tide me over at best.

I've struggled with Depression, the consistent state of grief that this world is not my home, we are so far from the way God created us to be, and all too often, His will doesn't happen here.

I've struggled with Death, the desire to hurry up and be with God in heaven. Because I'm ineffective here. A total burden. And this place sucks.

Then an experience completely changed my life.

I was in an environment designed for the Bride of Christ. There was a lot of cheesy wedding paraphernalia set up throughout the room: harps, gowns, mirrors, bouquets. But no Jesus. It was like the room where the bride goes to prepare herself for the wedding, where the groom is not allowed. Or a tacky bridal expo. As decked-out and gaudy and cluttered as it was, the space felt empty without Him.

The entire two hours was a struggle. It would have been worse if the walls had not been lined with intercessors, warring on my behalf. At the end, I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

Then God began to speak.

His mouthpiece told us He wanted to remarry us that day. How was that possible when I was only engaged- betrothed, really, to a man I had never really met but only heard of? I couldn't stand up, although the rest of the brides of all ages around me stood facing their groom. "Hold out your hand," His mouthpiece told us; "He wants to give you something." Only semi-expectantly, I cupped my hands and held them out in front of me on my lap. "No," she directed, "Hold out your hand. He wants to put a ring on your finger."

In all of my doubt, my feeling alone, and wanting the experience to be over soon, I turned over my left hand and held it up at the wrist with my left, leaning my right elbow on my thigh for support in my shuddering weakness. I chose to do it in faith, not feeling, because I still thought the whole thing was over-the-top. The moment I acted in obedience, Jesus came low to meet me where I was, kneeling in front of me on the floor. "I AM MARRIED TO YOU," He reminded me, and as I said yes, slid the most ostentatiously gorgeous ring on my finger.

How did I forget?

This is truth. In Jeremiah 3:14, God tells Israel, "I AM married to you." It doesn't get any clearer than that. Isaiah 54:5 concurs: "Your Maker is your Husband; the Lord of Hosts is His name, and your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel. The God of the whole earth will He be called."

I was so skeptical when He told me He wanted to remarry me, since I wasn't aware that we had been married in the first place. Where did these silly religious beliefs come from!? Why did I keep putting off those verses until Heaven?

Because the typical teaching is that we are the BRIDE of Christ, not His wife- yet. We are supposedly waiting for our Groom to return and marry us. Revelation 19:7-9 speaks of the marriage supper:

Let us be glad and rejoice and honor Him.

For the time has come
for the wedding feast of the Lamb,

and His bride has prepared herself.

Technically not here, and nowhere else does it speak of the marriage. The rest of the Bible does. Neither does it speak of an impending wedding. It speaks of a time when His entire bride will adorn herself and collect together (Revelation 21:2) to officially announce the marriage relationship she has already attained. The marriage supper is the reception, the celebration, the big huge dance party including all of heaven. According to Revelation 21:9, she is eternally His bride,

already His wife.

This mindset changes everything. We are already heirs, already given full authority, already have all things, and already complete in Him. Our position gives us the right and the power to call down heaven into earth, not putting up with things the disgusting way that they are, but acting as restorers of the breach and reconcilers of souls.

It has occurred to me that I have never read in scripture where it says Jesus' hands will be scarred for all eternity. Yet this is common belief. When He ascended, why don't we expect that He fully healed? This has taught me that my wounds should stay scars as reminders. But even God "forgets" and no longer calls our transgressions to mind. (Jeremiah 31:34 and Hebrews 8:12 and 10:17) Why should we?

When He brings up our faults, it is not to explain to us the reasons why He hates us. He chastens those He loves, like a goldsmith refines treasure in a fire. He doesn't just keep sticking it in the fire until He can see His reflection. He has to rub off the dross. That's painful! So when He brings up something in us that doesn't belong, it is not to point out that we're unlovely and leave it there. He actually says, "These are the reasons I'm going to LAVISH My love on you. Go sit and eat dark chocolate while you read in Jeremiah how I feel." Truely, He corrects us because He believes in us.

Beloved, we are called to fullness. We are invited to dive headfirst into the stream of life. He is not waiting for us to come into perfection before meeting us at the finish line. He is swimming alongside us, wearing His wedding ring.

I drew them with cords of a man,

with bands of love;

and I was to them as they who take the yoke off their jaws,

and I laid out dessert for them.

(Hosea 11:4)

Let Me Love You More

2010-04-28T09:51:00.000-07:00

You could give to me the gift of walking on water, and maybe I will raise the dead. I have one life to live and all I have to give to You is love.
But if I never walk on water, if I never see the miracles, if I never hear Your voice so loud, just knowing that You love me is enough to keep me here. Just hearing those words is enough to satisfy.

More miraculous than any sign or wonder anyone could ever produce, with or without the Holy Spirit, is my love for Him. The work that He has done in my heart, the fact that He would enter into the mess of it, to clean it up and live there, is worth far more to me than anything to show for it. The way He has turned my heart toward Him and given me the ability to love Him; that is the miracle. Jesus, won't You let me love you more?

When it's all been said, when it's all been done, when the race is won, it all comes down to love.

a sheep among WOLVES

2010-04-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

As I walked through the grocery store, a sense of danger overcame my body. Someone walking by me scowled at me. Over by the wall, two men stood as tall as the ceiling. They directed me to climb.
I pulled myself onto the pyramid of apples. In spite of the concern that my steps would cause the apples to roll, I worked my way up. The people encircling me like sharks growled. They began to pluck the apples, biting them, throwing them down. Dissatisfied, they leapt at me, trying to bite me. The more they acted like wolves, the more they seemed to appear as them. One jumped directly onto me and got his mouth around my right shoulder. I could feel his teeth sink in just before I pushed him off. I made my way higher, having to duck slightly when I reached the ceiling as well. The apple display that was my safety remained sturdy. There were square boards in between each row of apples that decreased in size as they approached the top.
While I was fending off the people as they were becoming wolves, the two men I realized were angels were coaching me, cheering me on. One of them reminded me that although I had a strong sensation of fear, these people-wolves were not my enemy. I caught one of the people-wolves' eyes and began speaking to his spirit. He softened, whimpered a little bit, and went about his shopping with no resemblance to a wolf any longer.
Success! I thought, and the angels clapped.
But an intensified fear shook my body as more people-wolves entered the building. They immediately resembled wolves although not in their fullness. I could tell they had eaten others for practice on their way to find me. The blood was still on their lips.
I told myself to control my fear. I knew what to do. If I could just speak to their spirits, it would soften them, regardless of how hard and dark they were.
Not so. I had sunk lower on the apple display and was only slightly higher than them. "LOOK INTO MY EYES," I commanded them. Only one of them turned his face toward me and there was such a spirit of shame overtaking his body and mind that he could not raise his eyes toward me.
They licked their lips. Their stomachs grumbled. One of them howled. They looked me up and down, tightening their circle around me.
My angels were there. They would tell me what to do. They were still on the wall, arm-wings out, the people shopping in the store cowering behind them.
"If you do not leave now, they will devour you."
The direction was not from the angels; it came with more authority from above.
I jumped down, away from the apples, and ran out of the store, grabbing people's wrists and arms and pulling them toward me to face the direction I was headed. No one followed me. A crowd gathered around the apple stand to discover the spectacle for themselves.

I woke up still racked with fear.

What, God!? Why no conclusion!? I didn't accomplish ANYTHING in that dream, and now my body is processing the fear. I HATE nightmares, that was so stupid! What in the world was the point of that!?

Papa K's voice from his message Why Owls, reminded me, "People want to eat you." I laughed. The fear coursing through my body and mind dissipated.

There were still several questions I wanted answered.
Why was I so afraid?
Why didn't they like the apples, and why couldn't I let them feed off of me?
Why did I have to leave?

I have treasure to guard, and will not cast my pearls to swine.
I fed them with the sincere meat of the word, to nourish them.
I had nothing to feed the ones who were hungry to steal my life.

I have been sent out as a sheep among wolves. If I am to be as a baby lamb, I can frolic in a meadow full of ravenous wolves, disarming their appetites and filling them with joy. But I can not satisfy their lusts and if expected to, will flee.

PRIDE

2010-04-02T07:19:00.000-07:00

There comes a point after people encounter Jesus, that not receiving love is out of active refusal. It is not that they can not, it is that they will not. Regardless of what led to the inability, once this shifts, the only reason is to push love away is Pride.

Pride says we are not worthy. Because no one is, that is not what sets us apart. We have been set apart to be loved and become holy through it. Love is not love that is deserved.

When you push away the love that Jesus and your family and friends have offered, it is Pride that says their love is not enough for you. It is Pride, and nothing else, that can not accept a Love so vast and grand. Selfishness sets up walls it believes can not be melted down by Love's power. You do not and can not deserve this Love, so may as well embrace it. Try as you might to earn it, that lie says Love is not what is inherent of it: Grace.

Christmas and Easter on My Birthday

2010-03-31T15:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I asked God what He thought about my birthday.
He showed me a Christmas tree.
The way a Christmas tree represents Christ's birth to me, the way I get excited at the thought of Jesus as a baby, is how He celebrates my birth every year: with a Christmas tree. He selects one from the forest that typifies the theme of the year He is going to give me. When He walks by and smells it, He thinks of me. He decorates it with ornaments that are momentos of moments when He's most enjoyed me. It even has my "baby's first Christmas" ornament on it, the actual one my parents got for me the year I was born.

It was really strange and funny to me that my birthday reminds God of Jesus' birthday, because my birthday reminds me of Easter. When I was 6, my birthday was on Easter, and it was REALLY special to me because Jesus' resurrection has always been my favorite holiday. I love the concept of spring and birth and it is no mistake I was born in spring of course.

I got my birthday presents in a basket that year. There were also plastic eggs inside with candy as usual. One larger egg contained a really special necklace, my birthday present from my dad. It was strung with silver beads and three hearts separated equi-distant from each other. The heart in the middle was bigger than the others. When I put it on, God told me it was from Him, through my dad. It not only represented the Trinity to me, but my parents told me I was in the middle and they were on either side of me.

I wore it every day- literally never taking it off. If anyone commented on it, I would tell them very proudly that my dad got it for my birthday and my birthday had been on Easter. It all made me feel so special.

One day, I started to notice some pink on it. It wasn't silver and expensive and precious like I had thought- and been treating it. It was plastic and painted. Because I swam every day, the chlorine was eating away at the paint and it was chipping off of the beads. It couldn't be fixed; it was ruined. And I didn't want a new one; it wouldn't be the one I got on my birthday. I was heartbroken.

The necklace that had meant so much to me suddenly became an embarrassment and I didn't want anyone to see that it was cheap, since I had been so proud of it before. I took it off as soon as I was told the truth about it. I screamed that it was a lie, and was called a spoiled brat. I was ashamed. My dad had been pretending to give me something wonderful but had really tricked me.

I believed that present from God my Father, to remind me of Him, was given just to mock me. I don't think I was able to receive any good gifts from Him- or anyone after that. I don't think I really trusted the quality of their intention. I immediately assumed upon receipt of a gift that it was given out of obligation. If I believed anything else, it came with fear of getting hurt. It made truely thoughtful gifts, regardless of their price, mean that much more to me, but not without that fear.

Yesterday while I was remembering all of this, God pointed out to me that it was actually my mom, on a tight budget, who chose the necklace to give me "from" my dad. Immediately, it broke the link between my dad's poor choice in gifting and my Father's. Even the truths that our heavenly Father gives good and perfect gifts, and gives to those in need- even better than our dads- had never made sense to me until I saw this situation in my history for what it was. And since I had never linked that gift to the Holy Spirit, I never held it against Him in the first place.

Last night, I watched a film that had a scene in a bar in Thailand. God pointed out the Christmas tree that was there, of all places. I couldn't understand why. Later, a friend of mine yelled, "feliz navidad" to me, and another friend began to sing it to me. Why did God keep highlighting Christmas to me? It is the day we honor Jesus as a gift from Him to us. So what did it have to do with me?

I asked God the significance of the Christmas tree. He told me I am His gift, and He delights in unwrapping me year after year, day by day. Moment by moment, He honors me with an ornament, selected to place on my tree like a photo album. He didn't want to teach me how to cherish Him with that necklace. He taught me that He cherishes me.

The Lamb

2010-03-16T09:20:00.000-07:00

Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain; Holy, Holy is He.

As I was leaving the conference, the song still running through my mind, there were still a few groups of kids gathered in the lobby. Some were goofing around, some were praying for others. Some were just talking and enjoying each others' company.

One group of two guys stood out to me, and I watched them as I walked by. A younger teenage kid stood with his hands clasped in front of him, held up at his chest. A college student-volunteer stood directly in front of him, one hand on the boy's forehead and the other gripping the boy's hands. Slowly, the guy lowered the boy to the floor, continuing to pray for him, and the boy started braying like a lamb.

I've heard stories of entire congregations or conferences barking like dogs or quacking like ducks when supposedly getting hit by the Holy Spirit- I won't judge either way because I wasn't there when it happened. But I'm not necessarily comfortable with it, don't understand it, and don't feel good about it. This time was different, because I wanted to consider it and not brush it off. There was something so strong, gentle and loving about the way the guy helped the boy lie down.

I saw two strong arms, the arms of God, gently holding a precious, delicate baby lamb. In spite of having been born for the slaying, the lamb now brayed sweetly, resting in complete peace with the One Who held Him. “That’s My son, and I love him,” Abba told me, simultaneously indicating the Lamb in His arms and the boy not altogether lying on the floor but being held in the arms of his protective Father. It was as though the braying were the only language that made sense for him to use to respond.

Sing a new song to Him Who sits on heaven's mercy seat.

Pressing In

2010-01-11T23:35:00.001-08:00

This past week has been rough, and I don't look too forward to what the next one will bring. Yeah, yeah; I entered 2010 ecstatic about what God was going to do and suddenly He seems still and silent. Boring, even. Frustrating, definitely. I don't trust Him very much right now. Even tonight, He told me to go talk to the bouncer, and I did, and he was really nice and I'm happy and all that God told me to do it and I did. But nothing happened, no pennies from heaven. This morning He led me up to this lake that I couldn't even get to. It was blocked off at every road leading down to it. Oh, I saw it, but didn't get to sit by it or dip my feet in its chilling water. I keep finding myself asking Him why He keeps building me up for the let-down.

It's certainly discouraging, and admittedly, I'm feeling a little depressed.

One of my uncles died Saturday and I don't feel joy about it like I usually do when there is a death in my family. I feel like he had a horrible last few days of his life and he died a horrible way (basically he starved to death because he couldn't handle solid food so they eventually took him off of liquids as well) and He served God his whole life as a priest and generally wonderful person, so wth, God. I feel angry, and that one really hurt.

But not as much as the news that another uncle was just sent home from the hospital because his cancer is inoperable. I don't know what God is doing about it and I feel really helpless. Sometimes I want to fly out there and lay hands on him and command the cancer to leave and his spirit to reject it and his body to heal, in Jesus' name.

When I question whether I do things out of love, lately I find I am way more selfish than I give myself credit for being.

DEFENSE

2009-12-31T09:11:00.000-08:00

This one's a little goofy.

It seems that in 2009 God did a lot of TAKING things from me that were out for my harm. He's ripped them away, and in spite of the painful methods used, I can honestly say I'm happy to be rid of them.

It's like a commercial. There's a guy walking towards me on the sidewalk, and he looks nice, and he's friendly, and maybe I even start to walk towards him. From the perspective of the camera, he's all I can see, and I'm pleased with it.

Then suddenly he's hit; knocked-over, falling out of view. From another angle the camera shows some guy on top of him. That guy is my God.

He keeps defending me before I even know I'm coming into harm. He TACKLES my enemy. Without even knowing why, because I trust Him, I stay on the sidewalk where I jump up and down and shout for joy.

He's like my quarterback, and I'm His cheerleader.

But let all those who put their trust in You rejoice. Let them ever shout for joy, because You defend them. Let them also who love Your name be joyful in You. -Psalm 5:11

Merry Easter on Christmas

2009-12-25T05:31:00.000-08:00

   It's Christmas morning, and I've been awake for a few hours, and the sun is just now rising. What's on my mind is not Jesus' birth, but His death. Is that emo of me?
   Yesterday was rough. I doubt I'll come here for Christmas next year. It's just that covering up grave issues is not an acceptable use of laughter.
   My usual response to the brutality of family situations is anxiety. It feels icky to sit in the reality of it. What can I do, though, when Jesus keeps accosting me with His gorgeousness? I can't help but allow Him to sweep my mind off my surroundings, whisking me away into...not fantasy... no, His reality. He is far more beautiful than my circumstances are ugly. Although where I'm sitting is very real, He is far more true and transcendental. He is alive, while this structure where I'm sitting decays.
   These pillars set in place to support me are in conflict as to how, or if they even want to. I doubt they ever will. They battle themselves and each other, and say nothing of the loving sort to me at all. Meanwhile, my wound heals on its own without their knowing of it.
   It will scar, and something in me wants to show it. I hid the cancer, but am proud of the long stripe across my back. Jesus' back was striped, too. But unlike the unused marker, thrown at me with the card that will forever remain unsigned, the switches used to mark His stripes were for my healing.

2009-12-21T13:47:00.001-08:00

He came to His own and His own received Him not.
To those who did receive Him...

These words haunt me and thrill me all at the same time.

"Blessed is the season that engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love." -Hamilton Wright Mabie (love146.org)

In the Hospital

2009-12-08T12:13:00.000-08:00

Well I have about a bajillion funny stories; however they are still being processed. In the meantime, Friendly Fires have just about summed it up for me:

In The Hospital

I had my post-operative consultation today. The swelling that I freaked out about and lost sleep over on Saturday night has been deemed normal. The combined pain and loss of feeling in my arms is expected as well. That should take at least 4 more weeks to get through and recover full functioning. I can also continue to take anti-inflammatories. Something I was really surprised to find out is that out of the 4 lymph incisions, there were at least 7 lymph nodes removed! Also I wouldn't have been expected or "cleared" to return to work for SIX weeks after an operation like the one I had.

Doo do do do do
Doo do do do doo do doo do dooo do do

We laughed about some of the things I didn't realize had happened until days after the surgery. I told my surgeon I was so excited when I woke up that all I wanted to do was see him and thank him! I was so upset that I hadn't seen him all day. He laughed and said, "You did see me! You were a little loopy..." Oh, great.

Nothing is lost
Only a memory
A glitch in my heart
'Till you come back to me

I can't cut out the ads, but I still like this:

2009-12-07T16:43:00.001-08:00

A Warm Blanket

2009-12-02T15:40:00.000-08:00

    "I like the idea of a warm blanket," I overheard the man respond in the room next to me. The nurse had come in and started to let him know about his imminent procedure. She introduced herself to his companion, and then asked him if he was cold. He didn't directly respond, even at first, and she explained that she could get him more blankets, and to entice him, told him about the blanket warmer. I marveled at his response, that he couldn't directly accept her offer. He didn't decline, either. He made a remark about how he felt: "I like the idea of a warm blanket."
    I liked the idea of it, too. But what does that mean? What about the reality of it? Did that mean that he wanted her to get it for him? That was her job, and it wouldn't be too much trouble. When we respond this way to people's offers, are we trying not to impose? Does it come from a place of believing our needs are not important?
    After what I've learned, I think the answer is yes. I think we usually find ourselves in a place of unhealth because we have not taken the best care of ourselves. And I think that the quality and amount of care and attention we give ourselves usually relates directly to the value we have of ourselves. I also think that if this value is low, it is probably because we have learned it in childhood or adolescence. So maybe sometimes a hand on each shoulder, shaking us, comes to us in the form of a wake-up call named cancer. This is admittedly true of me.
    My wake-up call encouraged me to press forward and receive healing: surgery. But it was scary. I had to tell myself a bajillion times, "you can do this. You can willingly take your clothes off and lie naked and unconscious in a cold room and let someone you just met cut your skin open and take things out of it. You can do this."
    All I could picture was myself lying on a cold, hard metal table, in the middle of a cold, overly-lit room. Cold. Naked. Exposed.
    Drooling. Maybe peeing a little bit. And what if I tooted, and it startled my surgeon or made him laugh, and he faltered with the scalpel and I ended up with a jagged scar on my back? What if I blurted out curse words when I started to wake up, in utter lack of self-control over my body because I had given it over to the anesthesia and doctors and nurses?
    I hate being naked because of what has happened to me when I've been naked. Or even not completely naked. My one valid concern was remaining covered while being moved during the surgery. How was THAT going to work?
    I decided to be bold and ask my nurse about it. Even though I hadn't been getting much in the way of answers all morning, once it was time for me to remove my underwear, I started to speak up a little more. My nurse at first gave me a short, sweet, simple answer. Then I think she stepped outside of her uniform for a moment and realized this nudity + unconsciousness thing was freaking.me.out. She then informed me that all of the doctors and nurses made fun of her for how much consideration she gave to the placement of blankets and positions of patients. They called her blanket-happy, for being overly cautious with them and using more than necessary. She even took care to get the ones that had been in the warmer the longest. How soooo like-God to assign her to me.
   Yes, I like the idea of a warm blanket, and a blanket-happy caregiver to lay it over me.

White House, Black Market

2009-11-27T18:38:00.000-08:00

   Getting a new computer has been a long time coming. So, too, has been getting a new lens for my camera. Last weekend I took my camera camping and realized/remembered the lens was dirty. The lens, not the sensor. The lens that was not even mine, but had been given back to me with my camera after the sensor had been cleaned, even though I took in the camera to ask for the lens to be cleaned.

   Last night I was trying to not fall asleep too early after taking 2 vicodin, and found a camera lens on eBay. I decided to get it because getting the new old one cleaned would be at least $50 and worth $40 more to buy a new one and not have to mess with driving (because it's uncomfortable!) and arrrrrghuing with the prideful little combed-over man to get it done when I'm in this condition (I'm fine, really).
   A friend of mine expressed dissatisfaction with their family portraits. It occurred to me that I could probably do them, not only for their family but for others to make some extra holiday money. So I NEEDED this lens right away. The dirty not-mine one so bummed me out that I hardly took any pictures all weekend (which was also excused by the fact that someone else was taking much better pictures than I would anyway). A new, clean, pretty, better lens would cheer me up and make me excited to take more pictures, and make me feel confident in taking them semi-professionally. Nevermind the fact that shipping was free and I haven't used eBay in 2 years and didn't really look into the seller. The lens was an immediate must.

    Today I had an appointment with the Mac people to talk me out of the 15-inch Pro because I really don't need it. I had waited until today to see if they would actually lower their prices; they did, $101 off all the MacBook Pros but the regular MacBook was the same. After dog-sitting, I came home to order it online so I could tweak it a little bit, and it too, was an immediate must. I'm sick of my binder-clipped screen and typing on key holes. I couldn't wait any longer to take my vicodin, either. Impatience is a toxin on Black Friday, but traffic wasn't too bad, and I had been to the anti-mall where there were significantly less shoppers than normal, anyway. The impatience was all just me. :)
   After parking my car on the street, I noticed two people sitting in the car parked directly in front of my house. I figured they were neighbors and just sitting and talking before going inside. But as I walked by, the man in the front seat asked if I was Faye, and I noticed he had an eBay invoice in his hand. Reluctant to answer for obvious reasons, I waited until he got out of the car and showed me a small shoebox with the lid taped on. My shoes fit in boxes way bigger than that. Inside, I found my small, perfect, clean, and beautiful lens and gasped in excitement. But I was still confused; I had JUST placed this order last night!
   As I looked up and started to question the man who was on the phone with the seller, trying to tell me about the "free bag", I noticed a police car parked in the middle of the street, doors open, and two men quietly tip-toeing forward with their pistols raised, pointing at us! My first instinct was that they thought we were dealing drugs (in broad daylight), and they probably noticed how docile the delivery man was and that I probably just looked amused. Then I wondered if they had followed the guy. Then I got worried that he was maybe under suspicion of stealing and reselling things, like the lens that had just been delivered in a street car, packaged inside of a shoe box. (I appreciate that he was reusing.) I clutched my new lens- my precious lens! afraid I might have to give it back because it had been stolen. I considered they might search me and maybe there was pot- why I didn't consider cocaine or herion, I don't know- inside the lens, and was greatly disturbed at the thought that they may have ruined my perfectly good lens by using it to stash drugs I must have accidentally ordered last night in my vicodin-induced state of not caring enough to read the fine print.
    All of these thoughts ran through my head and the drug deal assumption must have made the most sense because it was the one to which my mind, in desperate need of vicodin (I swear I'm not addicted), latched-on. They asked me what was going on and all I could do was defend my lens: "It's just a lens; I ordered it off of eBay and he delivered it to me." They asked if this was ##33 and I was like, noo... ohhh... "This is ##27; that's them, I think, next door, I don't know," hoping maybe they would leave me alone, then, since they had the wrong address, so I could go inside and put my lens on camera body where it belonged and take my medicine already.
    One officer explained that they had gotten a call about a black man (the delivery man in street clothes) entering a white house (where the Korean yelly old lady lives with her passive husband next door) while the other called off back-up (!?). When the helicopter swirling above my head responded by desisting, I realized all this was because of ME, and LOST IT. I shook the policemen's hands and thanked them. I apologized profusely to the poor "black" man just doing his job, unwittingly stepping onto forbidden territory when looking for my address at the neighbor's front door (despite how shady it was to make a delivery in an unmarked car). I finally understood when the seller on the phone told me to please remember to give "feedback": it's amazing what lengths people will go to for fear.

Wow. I look amazing.

2009-11-17T17:32:00.000-08:00

    Today was my consultation with my surgeon. I sat on a velvet cushion outside the waiting room for 30 minutes and tried to read Three Cups of Tea. The same sentence stumped me over and over, so I put the book away and waited.
    Three incredibly powerful pray-ers, people who have seen Him do it before, have asked God to take the cancer completely. I believe that if He wanted to deal with it that way, He would. I believe He never wanted me to have it in the first place, and He didn't so much allow it as I did. Maybe it's me, not allowing Him to heal me that way, but I also believe He would do it in spite of any lack of faith on my part. The incredible thing is having friends who believe in it for me. Maybe I haven't asked for it loudly enough or desperately enough myself, or my hand hasn't reached out quite far enough. But I know it is in this process that He is walking out my healing with me. He is leading me, with me every step I choose to take with Him, in active pursuit of my life. I wouldn't otherwise have the will or strength to fight this or push forward. Only because of Him am I more than a conqueror.
   Waiting for my surgeon, my blood pressure was higher than (my) normal again, but nowhere near last time after the 6 hours of gamma scanning. Frustrated, sitting alone in a room becoming too familiar, I told Jesus through tears that NOW would be a good time for His return. Or for my healing. Or frankly, for that matter, for Him to just show up. Instead, the good doctor came in, and shook my hand, and lifted up my shirt, and rubbed my skin, and pulled up the back of my bra, and unzipped my pants, and prodded around. I wanted him to exclaim that there was nothing there anymore, but before he came in, I had reached up the back of my shirt and felt the scabby grossness. Yep, still there. I wanted him to give me good news that the results of the lymphoscintigraphy showed no trace of cancer in my lymph nodes. But I knew better, because they had shown me the computer images of black dots in other places than the melanoma itself, indicating potentially cancerous lymph nodes.
    Today I learned that next Monday, they're ALL coming out. There are 3-4 under my right armpit, 1-2 under my left, and one near my left groin area. I also have these two cysts or something that will be excised as well. Which means in addition to the 6-inch-long elliptical incision (like a panel of "pig skin" for a football- double grossness), I will have 5 other smaller incisions. My call time is 6am next Monday. I get the radioactive isotope injection again and also a tracer which will turn my pee blue. If you see me, please remind me that I will urinate blue on Monday night. I'm not sure how many times it will take for me to hear it while I'm sober that it won't freak me out while I'm hyped up on vicodin, so please, by all means, feel free to inject me with reality.
   After the consultation, I went for a chest x-ray. I walked in disgusted with my body. All of my hatred was focused on the parts of my skin inhabiting the cancer. I had even asked for a copy of the lymphoscintigraphy images, thinking I could concentrate all my anger on the little black radioactive dots. I followed the nurse in and followed her quick directions well. I'm learning that I don't usually have to take off half the clothes I'm asked to (which is great when you also learn that the door doesn't close all the way either). As I opened it to leave, the images were displayed in front of me. Recognizing the inside of my body startled me and stopped me. I identified with those images, and found them incredibly beautiful. The hollow outline of my ribs, lungs, breasts, shoulders, neck, chin, and oh- that's my heart- captivated me. That's me, and wow, I look amazing. Good job, God; what a privilege to be created in Your image. I walked out a little bit taller. Get ready for next Monday, cancer, because after you're gone, you won't be welcomed back. I will be much better at honoring my body.

Good Times with the Gamma Cam

2009-11-06T20:51:00.000-08:00

    Today i was injected with radioactive fluid, laid out on a conveyor belt, and slid in and out of a gamma camera for 6 hours. Today i received love in the form of a babushka's words and kisses. Today i realized that this experience is not going to be so quick and painless as i had thought, and maybe there is a reason for that.
    I have a whole new appreciation for people being treated for cancer, and furthermore cancer survivors. My grandmother died of breast cancer, and I've always determined to survive it. It was assumed that i would get it, but then one day i decided i wouldn't, so since then i've determined that i would never have breast cancer. And I was so proud of not having back problems like my mom did when she was 24. But when i was 24, i went to the doctor i had at the time to ask about a new splotch on my back, and a bump on my side. She said they were nothing and a benign cyst, just a collection of fluid that happens sometimes, and that it would probably go away.
    Well, it hasn't, and guess what, that splotch is called skin cancer. It's pretty amazing that i've had it for so long and it doesn't appear to have spread. Except the tests run today indicate that the "cyst" and another spot just like it are exactly where the skin cancer is draining.
    Medical technology and science are so cool.
    I always figured i would never get through cancer if i got it. So much of the survival relies on the patient's attitude. It would make more sense for me to be despairing and fearful about all of this since i so often veer towards depression. It kept occurring to me today that i don't know how people get through this without Jesus, especially when the cancer is internal, there are more tests to run, and the machine is an MRI. I am horrified at the thought of what my grandmother must have gone through and how humiliating it would have been to expose her breasts to cold doctors in cold rooms. But i keep stepping back and realizing that aside from all of the periodic crying i've done about it, this is really altogether manageable. I can do this. Not only that; i'm excited for it.
    That means the spirit of despair and the spirit of fear have fled. God has taken my weakness and shown Himself strong. This is NOT normal behavior for an abuse victim. It would make more sense that on a day when i wake up and realize that i don't have to work but have to go through tests at my surgeon's office, i would be LESS willing to get up. Instead, i acknowledged all of the claims that today would actually be a really un-fun one, sat straight up and threw off my covers anyway. You know that email that goes around about what the enemy should say when a woman gets out of bed? This morning, i could just hear him: "oh, $#!+; THAT doesn't work anymore."
    Just because i got up doesn't mean i wasn't scared. I realized that my hope was triumphing over my despair, and my courage over fear. That's so not me. I was in awe of how i was feeling, but still recognized a little morsel of scared starting to swell. "I'm scared You won't be there with me the whole time!" i heard my heart say. That's okay. Ashamed to admit i would assume He might take a phone call or go see another patient while i was still under the knife, i burst into apologetic tears. I would be scared, too, and I'm faithful to remind you that I'm with you, as often as you need me to. So i shiver a bit and my heart rate goes up and i go and scream silently in the bathroom. I'm weak. Still i find the strength to actively pursue the scalpel that will be for my healing.

The List

2009-10-29T19:33:00.000-07:00

    While shopping for pumpkins for 9 kiddos, I bought O magazine for the first time in several years. "Let's see what New-Agey thing Oprah has to say about this," I thought as I picked it up, noticing the article, "Who Are You Meant to Be?"
    This is a strange state to be in; while the dust still settles from an abnormal time of transition, I am in preparation for an upcoming transition time (strange in and of itself because the unknown is so often an element of transition, and a cause for uneasiness) and remain nestled snugly in a prolonged season of healing. I have this thing in front of me, staring back at me while I eye it, more and more certain it is still. right. there.
    A friend demonstrated this same concept. There is an object in front of him, and every time he would move to grab it, this Thing came against him and for a long time, he struggled against that Thing. Now the Thing is behind him and what he wants is before him without Obstacle. And now he remains still.
    I have heard my calling, and responded in my heart, and when my feet move to run towards it, I find they are stuck. Once, I kicked and kicked. Eventually I set my back against it. During a time of "activation" for commissioning Tuesday night, I wondered, "Do I just not care anymore? What do I need to do to move towards this?"
    Faye. Just: rest, Faye, heal. Okay. I have been turned around to face it, and while my feet are now unfettered, they remain still.
    Another friend called out confirmation: "Don't worry about what you need to do, just BE." This is the best advice to take, to actively take, while you are in transition, when everything is unpredictable, and your only question is what to DO. Start getting good at just BEING. In the O I picked up, Anne Lamott says, "We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truely, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be," but I disagree. The act of being lies in who we are becoming.
    We were made in His image, and are growing in His likeness. We are given a new heart, fresh starts and many-more-than-second chances. Within us resides a Power- not wholly of ourselves- to call things into being that are not, and to pull down heaven onto earth. If we only ask.
    Her advice encourages people to feel empowered by looking to themselves. What an anxious place to be! to look within to find something I want or need. How self-sufficient and independent from God. I think we often ask out of our worry, out of our fears, and out of our lack. We want or need something, so we ask God to provide, and feel deficient until He does. And that makes sense, that we should look to Him to comfort us, to give us good gifts, to provide for us and guide us in wisdom and truth. Because apart from Him, we are, and can DO nothing.
    In Matthew 6, Jesus tells us many times not to worry and even why (what a good friend!). In Matthew 7, He invites us to ask anything of His Father. Church, we contain heaven on earth, but it doesn't come from ourselves. It is freely given by our loving Father who invites us to ask Him for it. He first offers us to live in the security that He does not withhold good from us (Psalm 84), that we have the mind of Christ and all things are ours (1 Cor 2-3), and the Holy Spirit will teach us in all things (John 14, 1 John 2). What would we ask for if we had NO worry?
    I'm not just sitting here stagnant while I heal. I'm resting in the assurance of Who He IS. While that renews my idea of what my life should look like, it frames my perspective of what I want and need to ask. My feet firmly planted, for now, I'm making a list.

The Unicorn

2009-08-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

   In a university classroom, I stood poised to speak, microphone in hand. My host, a little old Indian man, nodded in encouragement. The notes were in front of me: my research on the topic his class was studying. As I opened my mouth and breathed in, I exhaled in astonishment as a Unicorn flew from one side of the room to the other.
   It wasn't a vision; it wasn't in my imagination. It was there, and it was real. And it was for sure flying.
   "Look, everyone! A unicorn!" I shouted and pointed. Not even all of the students, who were all giving me their full attention, turned to look. Only some of those who did saw it. Even a fewer number of those who saw it exclaimed in excitement that they did, and kept looking for it.
   The professor stormed over to me and demanded I had better have an explanation for this. As he approached me, a chatter rose among the students, "There is no such thing as a unicorn!" The Knowledge in the room was thick as a cloud, but the Unicorn gallopped and jumped right through it. "There!" I indicated to the wrinkly brown man standing before me.
   He shook his head, "You did not see a unicorn." But I had, and I think he had too. Where did it go? His Fear was hiding it. "Close the doors!" I yelled, and two students did exactly as I directed.
   Once I had the classroom calmed down, I didn't see the Unicorn anymore. And now, each one of the students was convinced it hadn't been there. "Do not tell them what is only in your imagination," the professor warned me, "Or you will never speak here again." I began to believe I had been wrong all along.
   But Someone Else said, "Faye, you know what you saw. Don't be swayed by the fact that no one else saw it or will say they did." Then I saw it hiding beneath a chair: the Unicorn was still there.

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T19:14:00.000-08:00

Psalm 126:2~
The Lord has done great things for us...
(great things = gadal- to magnify)
Luke 1:46~
My soul doth magnify the Lord!

Jesus: The Great Thing He has done for us.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

2008-12-24T22:20:00.000-08:00

I was well aware for long enough that the joy in my life had been drained and the struggle for hope was more or less my keeping my head above water. Isolated moments brought me joy, like playing in the water. Happiness can come in waves like the sea, and we can splash each other in it. Still, it dripped off and i was left out in the cold.
It was time to leave the westside. "You're all done now," came the command, after i had held out for so long for things to be restored. In my obedience, i allowed God to do a new thing on a Sunday morning [11.23.08] and found myself in a new church.
Following my friend as she slid into a row, we noticed someone had claimed the seat next to me with his bag. Once he sat down, he pulled a fair trade chocolate bar out of his bag and offered me some. I had already indulged in chocolate for breakfast; this just validated my invitation to enjoy life. Was i allowed? Struggling through an angry phase, maybe i wasn't giving myself that permission.
In choosing to be there, i was missing a message entitled ENJOY. And i was leading a study on it the following night. The One i was made to enjoy asked me if i believed He would speak to me about it anyway. <You just did.>
We sang, "Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord... You are the everlasting God, the everlasting God. You do not faint; You won't grow weary. You're the Defender of the weak. You comfort those who weep. You lift us up on wings like eagles." At the last communion i had celebrated, [10.08.08] someone i love and trust, who protects me, had chosen the same song. I had forgotten about it because i had never heard it before. I had been sitting alone for the first time because none of my friends were there. It was the beginning of the end. And the second time i ever heard it, i was surrounded by friends.
A month later [11.7-11.08] disaster struck my Monday night study. The following Sunday, [11.16.08] my co-leader asked what those verses were about mounting up on wings like eagles. Isaiah 40-something? Someone found it before me: Isaiah 40:30. The next night she spoke about it during our study, encouraging us to allow God's strength to carry us through trials. The lyrics were being poured into my heart.
The week after, i led because she was gone. We had a leader's leader holding us accountable who sat for an hour and a half in traffic, leaving me time that Monday to look over the ENJOY lesson alone. The study was on Romans 12 and Ephesians 2. I remembered how only 2 months previously, i had started hearing, "her warfare is accomplished. Tell her. Say to Jerusalem that her warfare is accomplished. It is finished..." A friend of mine had told me Zephaniah 3:15: "you will not see evil any more." I couldn't even imagine what that would be like. But i was starting to.
Although i was struggling with being heartfelt in worship, and not feeling much like singing, something got to me. While i sat in a new church, a good friend on my right, missing the ENJOY message, someone better described as an acquaintance stood on my left. As i sang that very same song that came out of Isaiah 40:30 with an entirely new group of people, i heard something more. He laughed aloud. I told my study that night that i wanted that. It made me jealous and zealous, to just stand in God's presence and hear from him and laugh in enjoyment of Him.
Two weeks later, [12.06.08] the acquaintance started to become a friend. I wondered and asked why, after the year and a half that i've known him, did i not spend more time with him before? I kept remembering this one Leadership Advance. [09.15.07] All at once i had this vivid memory of him walking up the aisle during one of the talks. We had acknowledged each other, and the person i was sitting next to didn't understand why i wasn't being quiet. "Do you know him?" i asked. They said no. "Well, when i see him, i laugh." Aloud. Something about him reminds me to enjoy God more. I want that; i want to be someone like that and be around people like that.
At the beginning of Isaiah 40 is that verse i had been hearing, 2: "Speak comfortably to Jerusalem..." At the end of the ENJOY lesson, the writer used Psalm 126, "When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing..."
God was telling us the hard times were over, and He was turning our captivity. Furthermore He was showing me that this kind of joy IS possible. I told no one the name of the place i had been the morning before, or the name of the one whose mouth was filled with laughter. And still a month after that, [12.21] five of us showed up in the same place on the same morning to hear a message confirming that hard is not always separate from good, but that God is doing a new thing, and we should start to see much less hard than good.
"Therefore, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably to her... and she will sing there..." (Hosea 2:14-15).

Men. Friends. Brothers.

2008-10-19T08:23:00.000-07:00

Following suit in some ways of a friend's blog, who wrote about this amazing man in her life, i would like to make a list of what i am continually in awe of about two amazing men in mine. They both came along after the most heartbreaking break-up i could possibly imagine, when i really needed godly men in my life to be my friends and just my friends. Strangely, God has used the man from the heart-breaking break-up to teach me more about His love for me than i ever realized i didn't know. My two brothers (and all of my friends) confirm this continually, loving me like God loves me, and God continually fills the gap between that and the particular love He has for me as my Husband.

I love Dave. I hear this a lot: "I love Dave." Dave is loved, and Dave is loving. A friend of mine from home and i talked a lot about how we wished we had big brothers, spiritually, but even how different growing up would have been with a big brother protector in our lives. In considering going to Honduras, then being asked to go to Indonesia, Dave stepped in and encouraged me by giving me Salamat Jalan cds and talked it up like it was the best place in the world (for the record, it is not). When i found i was unable to go in June as originally expected, Dave didn't hold it against me. When i was asked to go again in September, he shared my excitement. When that fell through, he was sympathetic. When i finally found dates to go, he helped me get the best ticket, and then found a travel companion for me.
When i was confused about what God was doing in my life, Dave supported me and cheered me up. He checks in on me, and follows up on me. He listens and offers wisdom. He can even tell me when i'm wrong or point out faults and mistakes. And i listen to him, because i know he loves me, and seeing these things in me doesn't change that.
While i was in Indonesia, Dave wrote to me a few times. The first email i got was about his day and how he was doing. He asked about some specifics and offered some advice. I appreciated the simplicity of it, that he would offer it without being asked, and that i could feel connected to home (American life, ugh, yes i'm dependent on it) by hearing from him. He knew what i needed, and he offered it. He does this a lot in so many ways.
Dave, thank you for your patience and consistency, and for knowing when to make me laugh.

I love Ryan. I can't think of anyone besides Dave who has supported me more for my trip to Indonesia. We started out as friends who could just be goofy and stupid together- comic relief from the individual heartache we were each processing. We still have that, and we also have individual processing-together times too (about all kinds of things). I really love his entire family, especially Erin, and have been made to feel so much a part of it by Ryan.
Ryan has this one subject that he likes to talk about, and i don't grow tired of hearing it. Knowing about the persistence and consistency he has shown to someone he loves has indicated to me that this man knows God's love fully. I see Jesus in him, the way God loves His bride before she is able to recognize He does. It is real and good. And though it pains him, he is learning to give and receive love with friends while still insisting on patiently waiting for someone who is unable and unwilling to love him back. I can't help but hope that some day she would recognize this, that it is a love that is of God, and that Ryan's love would point her to God's love for her.
He led a Big Sunday event and Erin invited everyone in our Bible study to join them. Being homeless, i asked if i could spend the night that night and go with them in the morning. That night, the friend i was supposed to stay with let me know at the last minute that her roommate was not okay with letting someone she didn't know sleep on their couch. I didn't tell Ryan this, but when i went back to get my car and go to a hostel, i had to call him to get my saline out of his car. He insisted that i come up for dinner (knowing he had dropped me off at the Mayan and i had come straight there without having eaten all day). Then when Kim called me to let me know i could stay with her, he insisted that i tell her i was staying there for the week. That night before turned into a week, which turned into two, and even though someone else had offered to let me stay at their place since they work out of town all week, that fell through and Ryan insisted i stay until i went to Indonesia. I know it was a difficult situation for Erin, whose room i was sleeping in, but Ryan insisted she let it stretch her. It stretched all of us.
When Ryan wants to talk, he fully shares his heart. When i need to talk, he fully listens. When we pray together, it is in power and love. I'm positive i healed more in the three months i stayed there than in the entire three years leading up to it.
Ryan pushes himself, and insists i push myself. He took me to a skate park, where i've been dozens of times in my professional skates, and somehow i felt strong and safe enough to skate down a ramp for the first time. I've been held back by so much, and Ryan knows how to indirectly expose it to move me forward from it.
Like in order to dance. I really like dancing. But it wasn't good for me in college, in combination with drinking and the wrong audience. So even when i attended the free Mosaic dance classes, my body was still held back by an awkward self-consciousness. Ryan's break-dancing class was canceled one night, so he insisted Erin learn some moves while he practiced in his room with his hip-hop cranked up. Then he insisted i join them. When Erin started to get ready for work, we made up like 16 counts to "Forever". We had a moment of cutting loose and then both felt awkward about it, i think because we both have a strong value of dancing with only a significant other (and even then, within marriage), and there was a slight sadness in the recognition that this-isn't-that-person. It never stopped him from busting an early-morning-getting-ready-for-work move by the piano while i was doing Bible study and Erin was trying to fall asleep.
Ryan has recognized the difficulty of things i've had to deal with this year, prayed for me about them, and known exactly how and when to step in and support me and be there for me through them. He has come with me to things to show me i'm not alone, and never once bailed out on me. And last night, for the first time in a long time, i free-danced in front of people. We both found a freedom in dancing with each other ANYWAY.

strep ew

2008-09-24T10:07:00.000-07:00

This is the 7th day i've been back. I have worked 6 days, woken up with strep throat and have to skip Leadership Advance. My last post was a lie and should have read: will be in Indonesia for a month and suck at posting.
l, f

In Jesus' Name

2008-08-18T19:34:00.000-07:00

Before I went to Indonesia, it occurred to me I still did not understand this phrase, and that I could just ask. Would You tell me what this means, and why we use it? Of course I should have been prepared for the answer to come by experience.
Citra stood out to me for several reasons. She was a young girl who reminded me of a mother, or even more accurately, a father's heart. There was a remarkable meekness and gentleness about her.

Additionally, there was an obvious conflict within her, between self-consciousness and goofiness. It was as though she could let go for a moment, but there was a fear surrounding her that would look around to see if anyone was going to catch her having fun.

Each day to close their time together, the children are gathered and prayed-over. My first day there, I was invited to lead the prayer. The leader looked at me as the children were closing their eyes and said, "Just don't say the name of our God." There it was again; why did it matter if I said Jesus out loud? God still knew I was talking to Him. So I just prayed to God and she translated it to Allah. It didn't matter to me; God is God.

Citra approached me before walking home, took my hand, and pressed it to her cheek. She was the only child to look me in the eyes and say, "thank you." I prayed she would come back again.
She returned, but I found out from the program leader that her sister was sick and had been staying home. I was honored when asked to go on home visits. I hoped we could encourage her to get better and come back soon.

Indo trip August 8-September 5

2008-08-01T22:05:00.001-07:00

Leaving for Indo on the 8th. Will keep you posted.

How did my heart change?

2008-07-08T21:10:00.000-07:00

The Jews are like, 'this guy can give us bread!' and Jesus is like, 'I'm gonna change your HEART!' And the Jews are like, ''we can get bread from him, every day like the manna from heaven!?' and Jesus is like, 'no, your heart... your heart!' [Kim McManus]
How did i get locked up inside? What's this that renders me paralyzed? I lost myself in small pieces. It happened over time. [Nichole Nordeman]
Miracles happen over time. [Renee]
Even covered with sores and ashes, he looks oddly like a man who has asked for a crust and been given the whole loaf. [Frederick Buechner, about Job]

This morning i glanced at the bookshelf in the room where i'm staying. I noticed Captivating. I thought to take it off the shelf and read it again. Then i thought, what's the point. And immediately recognized the discouragement coming straight from the enemy. So i realized, if i am being discouraged in that way, there is a reason. I need to remind myself more consistently that it matters. My prayers matter. My heart matters. My desires matter!
When i first read Wild at Heart, i told my dad about it and he was uninterested. A few weeks ago, i sent it to him for Father's Day. Today i finally talked to him on the phone (he keeps calling me on Tuesdays and Thursdays when i am in my internship and can't talk!) and he asked me if i had sent a book to myself at his house. He forgot to send it to me with my sister when she came out. I told him there was a book for him, and a book for my brother's birthday. They each had gift messages. He hadn't opened it to see that b/c the package had my name on it to ship to me. When i left my internship today, i had a text message from him: "This book is outstanding. Thank you." Wow, God.
I don't feel like i wrote this as compellingly as it happened to me but i wanted to get it down objectively...

Today NL was fun, counting jewelry and listening to (country) music, eating dinner together. I shared my new fav Garth Brooks song, "You Move Me." It's pretty beautiful:

This is how it seems to me:
Life is only therapy; Real expensive and no guarantee
So I lie here on the couch with my heart hanging out, frozen solid with fear like a rock in the ground.
But You move me.
You give me courage I didn’t know I had.
You move me .
Now I can’t go with You and stay where I am.
So You move me.
This is how love was to me: I could look and not see, going through the emotions not knowin’ what they mean.
And it scared me so much that I just wouldn’t budge.
I might have stayed there forever if not for Your touch.
Oh but You move me out of myself and into the fire.
You move me.
Now I’m burning with love and with hope and desire.
How You move me.
You go whistling in the dark making light of it.
Making light of it!
And I follow with my heart, laughing all the way.
Oh ‘cause You move me.
You get me dancing and You make me sing.
You move me.
Now I’m taking delight in every little thing, how you move me.

And found a new song, Mercy, by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club:

Time stands too still
Left here there for the kill
But this hope that sorrow bleeds
Leaves a man with nothing
There's just no mercy in your eyes
There ain't no time to set things right
And I'm afraid I've lost the fight
I'm just a painful reminder
Another day you leave behind
Love grows a fear
Suites your taste of bitter ends
But this stake that holds you in
Leaves no place to begin
There's just no mercy in your eyes
There ain't no time for selling lies
And I'm afraid I've lost the fight
I'm just a painful reminder
Another day you leave behind
Words seem so blind
I've been pushed far aside
To my choice seems too small
Any move and I could fall
There's just no mercy in your eyes, child
There ain't no time to set things right
And I'm not preaching to the choir
I'm just a painful reminder
And you're a fool to satisfy.

Dear Cali,

2008-07-03T21:57:00.000-07:00

I don't know what it is, but i just re-listened to the talk on Sunday, and i more than ever believe in you and your future. I was reflecting on my previous relationship, and how i never believed in myself. I couldn't be supportive b/c i didn't think it mattered. I'm ashamed of this. It was defeatist. It made me think of yours: What if you let him in completely, what if you dig into him completely, and he still chooses not to be with you?
At the same time, i'm recognizing how far you've come and that God is not going to leave you here, but continue the good work He started. THEN i started realizing that God is at work in all of us, including whoever you marry. And Cali dear, your heart should leap at the thought, the recognition, that God is working in the heart of the man you are going to marry to FIGHT for YOU. Are you suddenly very excited to continue to fall deeper in love with Jesus, and feel Him pursuing you? Furthermore, i'm excited for you because i believe He is working in someone right now and will lead him to pursue you, and will continue to work in you to let him in. I'm going to watch it happen. Trust Him.
God! We trust You completely! With our LIVES, ministry, family current and future, and all of our relationships. This is NO small miracle. Cali dear WILL rise up, come out of the tomb, cast off the rags she's been wearing and take Your hand as You guide her into the abundant life You have for her, into the good works He has prepared!
And I WILL TOO...
love love love love love
p.s. get and listen to the new Coldplay

Jesus was a carpenter

2008-07-02T10:54:00.000-07:00

John 14:1-6, 23
2 Corinthians 5:17
Romans 6:6

I was talking to a friend the other night about how I saw Jesus in that guy Paul on Extreme Home Makeover. Remember how Paul was putting SO much care into his work? He had this expression on his face at this one point of such peace and dedication and his voice-over was about how they get to know the family and care about them and they put their love into what they make for them. Noj said he wondered why Jesus was a carpenter and not a potter. He said he'd have to think about that some more.

Jesus was a carpenter because he goes to prepare a place for us in Heaven. Even before that, He comes and makes His home in us. I see our Heavenly Father as more of the Potter because He molds us and shapes us more from the outside-in, providing for us, giving us our experiences and sustaining our lives. He holds us in His hands. But because of Jesus, the Carpenter, the Holy Spirit can reside within us. (Jesus builds Himself a home in our hearts.)
I was thinking about this and thought of a song I haven't heard in a long time, that I really really love. It has been my fervent prayer more than once! It's by Shaun Groves and it's called "Welcome Home". (I'm writing it from memory so I hope I have it all down):

" Welcome to this heart of mine, buried under rock and vine grown to hide
the mess I've made inside of me, come decorate, Lord.
Open up the creaky door, walk upon the dusty floor.
Scrape away the guilty stains until no sin or shame remains.
Spread your love upon the walls and occupy the empty halls
until the man I am has faded.
No more doors are barricaded.
Come inside this heart of mine, it's not my own. Make it home.
Come and take this heart and make it all Your Own. Welcome home.
Take a seat, pull up a chair. Forgive me for the disrepair
and the souvenirs from floor to ceiling, gathered on my search for meaning.
Every closet's filled with clutter: messes yet to be discovered.
I'm overwhelmed. I understand I can't make this place all that You can! "

He is Shelter in the rain

2008-03-07T21:52:00.000-08:00

Harsh words
Angry voices
Shouting and running
One out the door
The other slams it
The one outside wants back in.
He throws rocks at the window
The other one boils.
So he punches to tell him to stop.
His fist crashes the glass
And he turns away
Runs out the back door
Cold sand pats his feet
Now he’s the one running
The sky opens to downpour
The boy finds shelter
And huddles inside it
Cold, wet, and angry. Afraid.

A girl in despair
Doesn’t care that she’s soaking
Absorbing the rain
Dulls the pain that’s inside her

The lonely boy knows
Someone’s beside him
The girl walks alone,
Feels a Hand on her shoulder

The boy reaches out and then there’s another:
A hand from the lighthouse
Beckoning her in
To his side where it’s warm
And no one can touch them
Except for the Someone whose hand
Is now on the boy's shoulder

TO DO list

2008-02-28T09:44:00.000-08:00

1. “(Step one: You) say, ‘we need to talk.’” –The Fray
2. “Run away like a prodigal.” -OneRepublic
3. Come home. Stay (Deuteronomy 30:2-3).
4. Pour out your heart before Him (Psalm 62:8).
5. Weep (Philippians 3:10).
6. “Forgive me. You give me love.” –DMB
7. Aphiemi (1 John 1:9).
8. “Have patience with yourself for not being patient.” -lBl
9. Walk beside still waters (Psalm 23:2).
10. Shout (Joshua 6:20).
11. Rebuild (Isaiah 58:12).
12. Stand (Ephesians 6:13).
13. … (Ecclesiastes 5:7).
14. Oh praise Him (DCB) (Psalm 9:1).

ACCUSATIONS

2008-02-20T10:16:00.000-08:00

Things i was actually told:

I don’t have a purpose there.
I don’t have enough overseas experience.
It’s too expensive; I don’t have the resources.
I can’t start a new job and then go away for a month after only having worked for 3 months.
I won’t have a job or a place to live when I get back.
I am not called by God to go there.
I wasn’t wanted on the trips to Nicaragua; why would i be wanted to go along with this trip?
I didn’t think he was called there at all; I am actually against him and his purpose there.
It makes no sense that I would want to go now.
I want to go for the wrong reasons.
I only want to go because I want to be with him.
I’m deciding what God wants for me based on what I want for myself.
I’m deciding what God wants for him based on what I want.
I’m not actually hearing from God; I’m only being selfish.
I won’t be able to communicate because I don’t know the language.
There isn’t enough of a school system established for me to be effective there as a teacher.
I won’t have the support of schools here.
I don’t have enough experience as a teacher to have anything to offer.
I haven’t done enough research and don’t have enough time to do enough research before the trip to get to know the culture.
I don’t understand the importance of cultural relevance when it comes to writing children’s books.
Because I don’t understand the importance of cultural relevance, and do not know the culture there well enough, I will not be sensitive to the people there.
They don’t need me to write any children’s books there because there are already enough books for children.
Because I don’t really have overseas mission experience, this is too much for me.
This trip will be too intense for me to handle.
I am not stable enough in America to have anything to give there.

enough.

2008-02-19T09:54:00.000-08:00

i wasn’t good enough to go to Nicaragua, not Christian enough, not enough of a part of the church, i didn’t fit in enough, didn’t believe enough in miracles.
Not being allowed to go was punishment for not being good enough.

Consider that maybe you weren’t being punished.

i wasn’t supposed to go to Nicaragua. It’s not my territory. This couldn’t possibly be, either. i only want to go to make up for not getting to go to Nicaragua, to prove myself this time.

i am still not good enough.

…Consider that it wasn’t punishment… Was it protection?

Consider that I am trying to give you This as a blessing.

That it is maybe a free gift?
Like salvation.

Like, you can’t do anything to get Me to give it to you or keep Me from giving it to you.

It’s mine? Because i'm Yours?

I’m yours.

The Hope of an Acorn

2008-02-07T23:28:00.000-08:00

If God would bring beauty from ashes,
we must first let it burn...
...patience...
There is a hope of an acorn when it is planted
that it will become an oak tree.
...the fire we pass through must be refining...
...perseverance...
Lord, as You oxidate a forest by fire,
breathe new life into our dying places.
TEACH ME TO LOVE.
I will be long-suffering and yet kind.
I will not envy, but be content and even joyful with what i have been given.
I will not provoke in order to be seen and heard and appreciated; I will appreciate and not be provoked.
I will think no evil. I will not give way to fear. I will rejoice in the truth. I will believe in the best and TRUST You to bring it to pass. The truth is, my faith is evidence.
I will only do this by Your power, through Your strength in me, because You first loved me, as You bring about Your desire to make me a tree of life: an oak of righteousness.
Love,
Your Daughter

[Isaiah 61:3, Zechariah 13:9, Revelation 3:18, Genesis 2:7, Job 33:4, Acts 17:25, 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, 1 Peter 3:3-6, Psalm 37:3-6, Hebrews 11:1, Matthew 13:43, Psalm 21:1-7, 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, Ephesians 3:16, Colossians 1:11, Philippians 4:13, Proverbs 13:12, Psalm 92:13, 1 John 4:19, Isaiah 6:13, 40: 29-31, 41:10, 60:1&21]

my weakness is His strength

2008-01-28T02:24:00.000-08:00

I made a list of all of the accusations i've been hearing from the enemy throughout the past year.
I felt:
Destructive (in relationships).
Disconnected (from anything meaningful in my life), Purposeless, Meaningless.
Unimportant and Insignificant.
Faithless. Hopeless. Mistrusting.
Irresponsible (having a hard time paying bills, keeping jobs, finding living situations, remembering things...)

And i took the Clifton Strenghts-Finder finally.
I HAVE:
Restorative
Connectedness
Individualization
Belief
Responsibilty

Plans.

2008-01-14T09:35:00.000-08:00

Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie; though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.
[ Habakkuk 2: 2 (KJV) ]

"The Enemy allows this disappointment to occur on the threshold of every human endeavour... In every department of life it marks the transition from dreaming aspiration to laborious doing. The Enemy takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His 'free' lovers and servants- 'sons' is the word He uses, with His inveterate love of degrading the whole spiritual world by unnatural liasons with the two-legged animals. Desiring their freedom, He therefore refuses to carry them, by their mere affections and habits, to any of the goals which He sets before them: He leaves them to 'do it on their own'. And there lies our opportunity. But also, remember, there lies our danger."
(The Screwtape Letters)

Thanksgiving Renewal

2007-11-21T23:13:00.000-08:00

She wants the vow renewal. He doesn't. And maybe he does, but not badly enough right now. If he goes through with it, she may be getting what she wants, but she will eventually trust him less, knowing that he went through it because she wanted him to. She won't ever be able to rest secure in knowing that he wanted it because he wants her. She may be pushing for it right now, to get their marriage back on track, in the hopes that it will mean something to him. She wants to believe he means it. If she keeps asking for it when he doesn't want it, he will feel pressured. She will feel unloved. He already believes he's unloved, otherwise he would not have gotten to this point. Is she showing him love by her actions, or begging him to love her? In his brokenness, she is the spiritual head and is becoming the pursuer. This seems like a natural and to some extent reasonable accommodation. But only to the extent that it allows him to know he's loved and draws him back into the responsibility of pursuit. She must not run, she must not push, she must just stand and only move as he draws her in. If she runs, he will not follow because he does not believe she could possibly want him to. If she pushes, she will not ever believe that he wants her, and the foundation of their closeness will be insecure. She must, she MUST be patient. It is a good thing for her to want him close, but pushing in will push him away.

things to tell you

2007-09-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

God is telling me not to just do what I can and get over it, but that it’s okay that my heart is breaking, that I’m disappointed and sad. He just wants it to drive me to Him. I don’t do this because I always think that I must have done something wrong and He doesn’t like me very much.

i want to be holy

2007-08-24T21:59:00.000-07:00

you know the metaphor of the Refiner's Fire, right. how the Refiner keeps taking the gold out of the fire, polishing it, and putting it back in. He KEEPS PUTTING IT BACK IN until the time when He takes it out and can see His reflection in it. this is good of Him. He chastizes those He loves. except i think we get stuck inbetween. the fire is painful. and it has caused all of our impurities to rise to the surface and that's really uncomfortable. but then having them polished off is even more painful than the fire was. so we beg Him to stop. we're more comfortable with the stains just at the surface level. and we try to push them back down where we can't see them or feel them or have to think about them.

but let's get rubbed.

Exodus 20:1-5
And God spoke all these words, saying, I [am] the LORD your God, Who has brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You will have no other gods before me. You will not make to yourself any graven image, or any likeness [of any thing] that [is] in heaven above, or that [is] in the earth beneath, or that [is] in the water under the earth: You will not bow down your self to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD your God [am] a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth [generation] of them who hate Me; And showing mercy to thousands of them who love Me, and keep My commandments.

Hosea 14
O Israel, return to the LORD your God; for you have fallen by your iniquity. Take with you words, and turn to the LORD: say to Him, "Take away all iniquity, and receive [us] graciously: so will we render the calves of our lips. Asshur shall not save us; we will not ride upon horses: neither will we say any more to the work of our hands, '[you are] our gods:' for in You the fatherless find mercy."
"I WILL HEAL THEIR BACKSLIDING, I WILL LOVE THEM FREELY, FOR MY ANGER IS TURNED AWAY FROM HIM. I will be as the dew to Israel: he will grow as the lily, and cast forth his roots as Lebanon. His branches will spread, and his beauty will be as the olive tree, and his smell as Lebanon."
*They who dwell under His shadow will return*; they will revive [as] the corn, and grow as the vine: the scent of it [will be] as the wine of Lebanon. Ephraim [will say], "What have I to do any more with idols? I have heard [Him], and observed Him: I [am] like a green fir tree."
"From Me is your fruit found."
Who [is] wise, and he shall understand these [things]? prudent, and he will know them? for the ways of the LORD [are] right, and the just will walk in them: but the transgressors will fall therein.

Aunt Marie

2007-07-04T22:56:00.000-07:00

One of my great-aunts has influenced me because i have never questioned that she loves me. She is the most godly, beautiful woman i have ever met. She is humble, generous, modest, pure, caring, gentle, kind, servant-hearted, meek, wise, intelligent, active, strong, and dignified. She takes care of her siblings without complaining. She seeks me out to spend time with me. She makes me feel special and is always interested in my life. She nurtures and takes care of her family. She is wealthy but lives simply and thankfully. She has never had to tell me about Jesus because she is so Spirit-filled, His presence in her life is obvious.
I love you, Aunt Marie.

Mexico: Excuses, Excuses.

2007-05-14T06:44:00.000-07:00

I'm going to Mexico!

saw on the announcements at Mosaic LAST Sunday that there is an upcoming trip to Ensenada, Mexico. I was interested but didn't even pay attention to the dates of the trip since I figured it would be a one/two-week mission and there was no way i could go. Right now i'm really just trying to keep my head above water and can't miss work. If i do, it's going to be for the Bahrain or Morocco trips in the winter- trips i have plenty of time to raise support for. Plus i don't know Spanish so it's not like i feel automatically "called" to go there. But for some reason i DID feel called so i figured i would keep it in mind for next time since Mosaic takes 3 trips a year.
So then Chris sends me an email about it and i'm still like, whelp, can't go, thanks anyway, but i feel this pressing, this, "yes, you can." (That is about all i've heard from God lately- shamefully, b/c you can only imagine what i've been saying that would elicit that response.) I see that it's over Memorial Day Weekend, and there goes my excuse. Then i'm all, but this is a bad idea to spend an entire weekend on a mission trip: where i've never been b/c Williams Family Vacation at an all-inclusive resort in Cancun doesn't count; where i don't know the language; where the only other person i'll know is the one person i just dated for a month- unless our two other friends he invited were going which i was really hoping. They can't but i did meet Ellen yesterday who is going for the first time and doesn't know anyone else. In other words, i feel pretty vulnerable about this whole thing. And God is like, well Who are you going for? and there went that excuse.
The thing about this Mexico trip was that i registered way after the due date so i had to decide and register asap. I had to make my decision the day i found out about it and then send in my registration the next morning, including the full payment for the trip. There were all of these factors i had to figure out while i was at work so i could go home and fill out the application, write the check, and color-copy my passport.
So i really prayed about it and thought, but i need to spend this money on my car, and God was like, Who is paying for this again? And I still had more excuses! It's funny b/c i immediately wanted to go and thought it was a great idea but didn't trust my instincts. (Well they haven't always been entirely trustworthy, especially lately.)
Just the night before, i had found out the next After Hours outreach training workshop was that weekend. The conflict was that i KNOW God wants me to work with/like After Hours, and the Mexico just came up out of the blue. Really i want to go on any trip i hear about if i can, but i can't go on all of them unless i never work (which would be really really cool actually). It was my absolutely ONLY plan, but then i thought, well this is maybe just a test then to see if i will get distracted from a calling or not. Or not:
I wrote to Laurie through myspace and told her i had an opportunity to go to Mexico for the weekend but was committed to the training. Remember i had to make the decision that day so i decided that if i didn't hear from her and get a definite YES then i was going to have to take that as a NO on Mexico. I also decided that going to Mexico wouldn't be worth having to wait a few months for the next training. Laurie got back to me within a couple of hours and said they didn't realize the training was on Memorial Day Weekend and no one was probably going to come! That means there's a chance it may be cancelled. Even if it isn't, i can't work with them anyway until after the next training b/c i'll have friends here from out of town and will be focusing on them for 3 weeks. They're going to try to do one training a month, so even if i miss that one, it won't be too long before the next. She also seemed to be saying have a great time in Mexico and we'll see you at the next training. So i was down to two more excuses.
There are three teams leaving on Friday the 25th. I work on Fridays (if we want to call what i do work). I thought about this for awhile and remembered how my boss takes off or does half-days before holidays. On Good Friday, for example, she was going to work a half-day (i thought but maybe misunderstood) and then didn't go in at all (although she took a couple of calls). I was offered a half day that day or to stay later and go out to lunch with her and her mom and T. I wanted to spend time with her (i am telling you i love that family) and plus i had just started working and didn't feel like i needed to take time off already. So i opted for the half day plus errands and lunch. I thought she might let me go an hour or two early, but she actually met me back at the house later on like a half hour after i'm usually off. That's not a big deal, but if the latest i can leave for Mexico is 6pm from Pasadena, and i'm out in Encino at 5:30, i won't obviously make it.
I thought about asking to just leave an hour or two early that day, but realized any number of things could go wrong (and probably would; this is a mission trip we're talking about here) between Santa Monica and Encino (namely, the 405). So i could see her legitimately trying to get home early that day and having car problems or there being an accident and her getting there like, at 5 or something and my having to rush and get to Pasadena and being late and being stressed out about it all day like i was on my bday (which fiasco made me determine never to have children or drive on the 405 ever again). So then i thought, maybe she'll take a half day and i can take a half day and leave with the 3pm team and if not, then the 6. But like i said, i had to make this decision ON Tuesday, of what time i was going to leave Pasadena for Mexico, and i kindof felt like that was a factor that could be completely out of my control on the actual day of departure.
When Kelly got home i told her about the opportunity and she said she was going to work a half-day that day. So I asked for a half day and said that would be perfect. She told me i could have the whole day off. It amazes me how generous she is, like how i will ask for something like that and try to be reasonable about it, and she always goes above and beyond. She is the absolutely least-stressful person i have ever worked for or with! So i checked the 12 noon box for my desired departure time.
Lastly, my mom has been talking about coming out here for a long weekend for awhile. In fact, Mother's Day weekend was one she thought she might be able to do. I will be MIA next weekend, so she couldn't come then, and the next time she'd be able to come would be Memorial Day Weekend. So i had actually been talking to her on the phone that day, on and off, and during one conversation while i was considering the Mexico trip, i brought it up again, when do you think you'll be out here? What about Memorial Day Weekend?
"Oh, i can't make it that weekend," she said. For sure. She said, "I guess you're going to Mexico." Last excuse: negative. So i guess i am!

Night Light

2007-05-12T21:32:00.000-07:00

Annie Dieselberg, a missionary in Bangkok, Thailand, is in town and spoke with us last night at Mosaic about the business she recently started there. NightLight Design Company, Limited's mission is to "bring light to women and children through physical, emotional, and spiritual healing, and through economic development." It arose out of a need to offer women involved in prostitution a better job, a future, and hope.
Annie reaches out to these women in bars and nightclubs in the Red Light District of Bangkok by going in and forming relationships with them. When they indicate, as she said almost all of them feel the need to do, that they do not want to be doing what they're doing, Annie and her team invite them to make jewelry for Night Light.
This job has restored the dignity of many women by allowing them a way out of the sex-trade industry as well as providing a legitimate means of income. Through Charity Marquis, NightLight has now gained non-profit status in Los Angeles and is selling jewelry here. For ordering and more information, visit NightLightBangkok and Annie's Missionary Profile.

Some of you know why this stirs my heart, aside from the simple disturbing injustice of it all. I'm willing to tell my story but right now i'm too excited to tell you what is being done about this subject and how i intend to become involved. I keep hearing the statistic that 90% of women who are involved in the sex industry as adults were abused in some way as children. I would say that 100% of women who were sexually abused as children have at some point in their adult life been involved in some sort of addiction or abuse: self-mutilation, drug dependency, low self-esteem/learned helplessness/co-dependency, obesity, pornography...
But what about the men? I looked around last night and counted about 60 people at the event. I think 9 of them were men. I kept wondering, where are the men? As Annie shared some of the stories about the women, she eventually began to discuss the issues surrounding the men who are responsible for leading women and children into the sex-industry and keeping them there. And still, i wondered, where are the men???
I believe that God created us to, in turn, create in order to bring forth and sustain and nurture life. The most obvious way we do this is through family: marriage, sex, birth, and parenting. Art and invention are another. What a privilege to be invited to take part in God's work! Obviously though, we can do this without even consulting Him. To me, art and life are inseparable yet these means of abundant living that God made and declared good have been prostituted when outside His will. When art is prostituted, it becomes a means of death.
We can conquer this evil by attacking the bad or promoting the good. We can erect a university and outlaw dancing there. Yet it was never the dancing itself that was bad. Philip, an extremely gifted, talented, well-trained artist at Mosaic decided to promote good when he was in Bangkok by "dancing on injustice."
So he tapped. He walked right into the bars and night clubs and showed them real beauty. Godly beauty. Art. Life. He was of course opposed, but as those of you who have had the benefit of watching can imagine, he went right ahead and continued dancing with all his might before the Lord, just like David.
We who love God and therefore life WILL be opposed. But we MUST continue to praise Him. Living abundantly and purposefully is our best way of worship, and most effective way of conquering evil. When we find ourselves unwanted, let's do it anyway.
I can only imagine how many volumes this simple act spoke to the people there. The women in these bars and clubs are caught up in all kinds of idolatry: worshipping the phallic as well as the aborted fetus. They have sexual nightmares and are sexually spiritually attacked. (I will NOT go into as much detail as Annie did, but if you are interested in understanding more, please ask and i will tell you.) They degrade themselves and do not want to. They believe they are worthless. They drug themselves just to make it through a night. This is all they know.
Many, many of the men who go there on "sex tours" and use a prostitute are American or European. These are "good" men; "Christian" men. Men you may know. They go there to fulfill a fantasy, to feel wanted and powerful. This is a stronghold: the lie that sex is about power and submission, getting what you want and imagine, and being in control. But can you see how that would be so intricately connected with sex when someone has developed low self-esteem? Someone who has possibly been abused even if only verbally? Someone who never felt loved or understood by their parents, or whose parents were maybe addicted to alcohol, other drugs, or porn even?
One of the women on that Hugh Hefner reality show said that when she was four years old, she found one of her father's porn magazines. It was then that she knew she wanted to be a playmate, and wanted to be just as beautiful as the woman she saw in the magazine. The woman she knew her father found beautiful and desirable. Are you catching this? Wanting our fathers to find us beautiful and to feel WANTED and accepted and appreciated by them is a VALID need, and it directly relates to our same desire of God. It is prostituted so easily by experiences like this.
How have we gotten here? They live in a culture where sex has been completely devalued. But so do we. Where there is a devalue of sex, there is a devalue of life, and vice versa. It is a vicious cycle. So it points to the answer of how to get out.
Laurie and Deryl from After Hours were there and i spoke mostly with Laurie after Annie was finished. Laurie used to be a prostitute; Deryl used to be a pimp. Now they are calling their friends and others out of it.
Laurie and i talked about xxxchurch and its effectiveness, as well as love and self-mutilation. I was wearing my TWLOHA t-shirt and she asked about it, so i brought up xxxchurch. I told her about how To Write Love On Her Arms is a ministry dedicated to raising awareness about depression, self-mutilation and suicide as well as offering hope to those involved in it and those who love them. She hadn't heard of it, but i knew she had heard of xxxchurch. I explained that FireProof Ministries is the non-profit organization that runs both of them (among other stranger ones: www.fireproofministries.com). I told her i wasn't the biggest fan of xxxchurch because of some of the things they've said. I'm not totally certain that going INSIDE a porn convention is the best way to go about things but at least they're THERE (just maybe they should be outside). I also don't think we should show up necessarily on a porn film set to offer people an alternative lifestyle to the way they're living. My biggest problem with them, though, is their attitude and the way they attack the Christian church.
They are Christian! Maybe we've all been hurt by some point by the church. Shouldn't this make us more understanding of it? Christians can be judgmental, yes, but you're just being a completely obvious hypocrite (do they REALLY not see this?) by attacking your own brothers and sisters with sarcasm just to get others who have been hurt by the church to laugh and join your cause. It may be effective, but it isn't right. And you most certainly can't claim to be all about love when you act like you love some (porn stars) and not others (the church). Criticize, but do it in love. I really want to talk to Mike and Craig about this. I met Mike on Freedom Day, and eventually, prayerfully, i'll bring it up. Laurie and i agreed it's not okay; it's all about love.
We also talked about the difference in attitude among the women in Bangkok as compared to the women in LA. She said that the basic difference is that the women in LA HAVE "attitude". They flaunt and strut. They say they look good. They have pride. The women in Bangkok, Annie said, are coming mostly from rural areas where if they went swimming it was fully clothed. They are a burden on their parents because they were born women and not men, and then become a further burden on their parents when they are divorced or do not get married at all. The result is shame. It makes me consider how Captivating discusses Fallen Eve as either dominating/controlling or subservient.
A friend of mine (friend of friends i guess at this point) came up to talk to Laurie. She works at a coffee shop in a particular location where she gets to work at 5am to open on Sunday mornings and keeps seeing the same prostitutes and pimps come in. I'll be there tomorrow morning. (Pray for me?)
Lastly i just want to say, i know where most of you have been (even if you haven't told me yourselves ;) and most of you know where i have been. And we're all in the same condition, and we all have the offer of Life extended to us instead. How will we tell them life is better on the other side if we haven't been there ourselves to know the difference? No one wants to listen to someone they can't relate to. God allows us our experiences and draws us out of them so we can be a testimony to others and offer them hope by showing them the Way out. It's why we're here.

my brilliance

2007-04-12T22:30:00.000-07:00

Why do people ask me what my dreams are? it isn't some thing i can write an essay about. they can only be lived out. won't they just wait and watch?
my dream is to shine light in darkness. the only light i have in me is but a reflection. it is but a dim reflection off a dirty mirror, yet all the taintings thereof are no match for the brightness illuminated therein. it is my brilliance but it is only found in Him.

stand inside yourself

2007-03-20T11:42:00.000-07:00

"For an impenetrable shield, stand inside yourself" -Thoreau

I've been quoting this since we studied transcendentalism in sophomore year English class. In fact there was video taken of me saying it while walking around the Cathedral woods with my fellow wise fools. We had to each memorize a quote or two so that when our teacher called on us, no matter what we were doing, we would be able to recite it. I was standing on the steps out by the gazebo when she said my name. I turned slowly and leaned over the stone banister to face my teacher. Through thickly black-lined eyes i looked directly into the camera and with all of the teenage angst i could summon, let them know, whoever was listening or would ever see that film, that this was the secret to survival.

trafficking seminar tonight

2007-03-15T15:40:00.000-07:00

My church sponsored a family to come and talk about their missionary work with prostituted women in Thailand.
The family will be at FREEDOM DAY.
You can read "Moon"'s story in Christianity Today. She shared here ENTIRE story with us tonight. She has only told her story to a public audience once or twice before, and never as fully as she did tonight, so that was a huge blessing.

Other links to check out are:
Child Sex Tourism Prevention Project
Break The Traffic
Salvation Army's Initiative Against Sexual Trafficking
Business As Mission
Just Food, Inc. (their mission)
Hagar International
Freeset (handmade bags)
The Well

twloha tonight

2007-03-07T00:00:00.000-08:00

Normally after an experience like this, although it was minor, i would sit and chew on it for awhile, processing it, not ready to attempt to put it into words. This i just want to shout about right away. My dream, among many, is to see counseling centers spring up that are not simply focused on one problem, because, like Jamie said, it's all about pain.

This is a myspace blog i wrote the other day:
"For the past 4 months i've been trying to find a Crisis Pregnancy Center where i can volunteer counsel.
I have been having a hard time finding one IN Los Angeles, like downtown. I have found a few lists of them, but not their websites. That means i have no idea what they are like and what they stand for. Of course i don't have the time to call every single one and ask them to tell me more about their services, let alone the time to GO to a bunch of them to check them out and interview.
So i prayed about it. I asked God to show me one that is just like the CPC in Indianapolis. The CICPC (Central Indiana Crisis Pregnancy Center) is REALLY strong, organized, and good. It was an amazing thing to be a part of.
I was going to start asking around my church to see if anyone there actually counselled at one or knows of someone who does. But i found the Avenues website linked from the women's ministry webpage through Mosaic. So i called them on Tuesday and set up an appointment to meet with the director this am. She asked me about the training i went through with CICPC, etc., and who led it.
When i got there today, she told me that the President of the CICPC is actually commuting back and forth right now between Indianapolis and LA. They wanted to set up a partnership, but he ended up resigning from the CICPC and is now the Executive Director at the Avenues Clinic where i've signed up to volunteer!
The Avenues is a clinic with a nurse who can read the pregnancy tests and give free ultra-sounds right there. It is not a chain of centers like CICPC. But now that this guy is their Executive Director, it will be."

So i got to share this with a couple of the twloha people tonight after the Anberlin show. They were really encouraging. Hopefully i will be helping them with research about LA, and i would like to see some training books being authored, to train volunteer counselors on all kinds of addictions etc.- people in pain, the lost and confused. I guess what i want is to see people appreciating life. I can't wait to see what God does with this.

expect surprise

2007-03-01T18:17:00.000-08:00

Moving out here to LalA Land required agreeing to take everything as it comes. Taking everything as it comes has meant that everything that has happened has been completely unexpected. Unplanned. (By me.) How was i to know that it would prove to be a series of pleasant surprises?

Being adventurous and not at all worried about the future, ;) i ADORE surprises, ESPECIALLY the pleasant ones. Even the scary ones are exciting, okay, albeit annoying/frustrating, because i know that God works everything out for His purposes. Now if His purposes are good, why wouldn't i like surprises? Even things that happen that are bad, or a result of something bad, He will use for good, so bring it on!

I could go on forever about the amazing people i have met at my church. If you go to Mosaic there is only like a 1% chance that you are reading this, but i am most certainly talking about YOU. And then there are all of the opportunities i have to be involved in great good things because of Mosaic. Because of spectacular people who started these great good things. With spectacular people who do great good things.

Some things that happened were unexpected simply because they were so improbable, like my roommate deciding to move out just after i moved in. This situation has shown me that pleasant surprises arise out of hope. We find disappointment in surprises when we are too attached to our expectations. I definitely expected for the two of us to become great friends, even BEST friends, but we had such a rough start we almost became enemies! Her dedication to being my friend, our personal choices to trust someone we didn't understand, and our consequential friendship when either of us could have decided it wasn't worth it, especially since we had so little time left together, were completely unpredictable. I EXPECTED closeness. I didn't get it. I let it go and God brought about good from a potentially bad situation. As disappointed as i was to have the conflict, and then to see her go, God has led her to something good, and led the right person, a ray of sunshine if you will, to fill her place. As much as i wanted it to work, it wasn't, and God didn't just take her away, He provided an even better fit in her place.

Well then there is my job situation. You would not be wrong to ask yourself why i am gloatingly relating having NO job to pleasant surprises. So I will explain: i EXPECT a pleasant surprise.

Hebrews 11:1

I have been waiting for 6 weeks. In fact, i have been waiting longer, because i most certainly started my job hunt before that. MY plan was to have a job before i got out here. It just didn't work out that way, and even though i am at about the last penny of my savings, i'm okay with that. Why shouldn't i be?

Rent is due today. I definitely wrote a check knowing full well i have no access to the money in that account. I figured what i would do is let it bounce, let them call me, explain that i can't withdraw more than $100 for the first month of having that account (it's been about a week) and then give them the money after i got my first paycheck. Here is the trick to this actually working: they don't deposit rent checks until the middle of the month. So IF i get this job i interviewed for on Sunday, and IF i start next week (which i would) and IF they pay me for the first week, rent is COVERED.

Only i didn't really want to play that game, so guess what: i don't have to. My dad called me today and offered to loan me my rent money. I EXPECTED him to not give me any money, even to borrow. I refused to ask. He's wiring it to me tomorrow.

This is what it's like to struggle, not having any financial security. Forget stability! Even if you have "job security" you really don't know what tomorrow brings. I do know this: I am standing on the firmest rock i know.

This is how cool God is. I started writing this after finally getting an email from the family who interviewed me on Sunday. They will let me know TOMORROW! One more day to wait but still...

What if i DON'T get the job? I want it! A lot. But i know that if i don't get it, that doesn't mean i won't eat until i find something else. I haven't been irresponsible (okay, except for letting my roommate borrow money) with what i've been given. What will i do for the next few weeks while i continue to look, still without income?

I had just written that i EXPECT a pleasant surprise, when, lo and behold, i received an email from the dad who interviewed me last week. The dad whose position i regretfully had to decline. He asked me if i would be interested in nannying for them until we each find someone else. So if i DON'T get this job that i want, i will still be able to help out this family i like a lot, (their nanny quit SUDDENLY to take a position that paid a little more) and they'll of course be helping out ME while i find something else.

I've learned that God operates like this. Read the beginning of Daniel for evidence. He likes to wait until the last minute. Not because He's cooking something up, or isn't ready like the way we procrastinate, but because He knows what He's going to do. Because He wants us to trust that He knows. It's at the last minute when we could abandon all hope. When we don't know how we're going to survive, when we've gotten to the point that we don't know how we're going to make ends meet, it is then, after we have done all we can do, that we can STAND (Ephesians 6:13!) and EXPECT to be
pleasantly surprised.

LA Homeless

2007-02-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

Look how God has put this on my heart... I keep making connections between homelessness and trash, and beauty from ashes... I've only been here for a month...

1. Santa Monica- leftover calzone
2. old woman at dumpster
3. man at Blockbuster- chicken (diabetes)
4. prayed with John (faith)
5. pb & j after church
6. painting at URM
7. recycling to man at dumpster
8. blankets on Skid Row + leftovers to man with shopping cart

Philippians 4:19~ But my God will supply all your need according to His riches in glory, by Christ Jesus.
2 Corinthians 8:14~ But by an equality, [that] now at this time your abundance [may be a supply] for their want, that their abundance also may be [a supply] for your want: that there may be equality.

significant things that happened:
socks
prayer in car
filming at bridge
"that one hurt"
the joy in giving

Invisible Children

2007-02-08T18:38:00.000-08:00

I went to see Invisible Children at my new friend Jess' house last night. I brought my roommate, and Victoria was there, and so was Jess' boyfriend, Adrian. Here are my notes:

WE NEED:
your time.
your imagination.
your talent.
BEHOLD. I DO A NEW THING.
This started with only 3 people.

"but when they danced, they really danced."

gets people uncomfortable
stark contrast in emotion: the children here never cry.
spiritual world -> spiritual battle
children being brainwashed: "they live absolutely above fear"
either withdrawn or aggressive
WE DON'T WANT TO DIE
newspaper: "Peace Talks Flop"
"The question of life is for all:" pressure the Ugandan Govt to peace

resilience: "they bear it patiently"

the whole nation cry with one voice
fear, but freedom -> strength
"This would never happen in America"
"You can't compare"
WHY NOT?

REMEMBER US.

but not condemned

2006-11-25T21:52:00.000-08:00

I have been accused. I have been convicted. I have not been condemned.
I've gotten a few responses to my last headline, so i wanted to share with whoever wants to read it, what i wrote to a friend about it. It's really just a story about a question i was asked and my reaction to it. I have definitely been asked the question since, and was much better prepared to be able to answer without explanation. But i remain ambiguous on purpose. You'll figure it out.

Awhile ago i was asked a difficult question. My answer had to be disappointing to the querier. I felt trapped because i couldn't explain, or defend myself, or justify the wrong i had done. I wasn't given the chance. What i WANTED to also say was that i was SORRY. Mainly i just felt sorry to God, and my future husband. I'm going to have to go through this hard talk with whomever i marry. And it's going to be painful, and it's going to suck.
I fought the urge to hide under the covers of my bed and cry. The question had caught me completely off-guard. I had no idea it would make me feel that way!
Why DID it? I have completely forgiven myself. Hadn't i? Did i feel ashamed? Dirty? Stupid? No, it was something else.
I consulted my friend, the one who is a walking Bible. (she knows who she is : ) At the same time i realized i felt ACCUSED, we recognized it was satan, and she told me immediately of course, Romans 8:1. "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ."
Well what happened, then? I KNOW this, it's not like that's the first time i've ever read or heard that verse. But why did it make me feel so WRETCHED to have my sin brought up again?
It is how satan jabs at us, bringing back mistakes bad choices and ACCUSING us, saying, but you DID do it, and not only that, but you're RESPONSIBLE for others. You knew it was wrong and you didn't say no.
And yeah, he's right, i'm guilty as ever. So he brings me up in front of God and says, don't let her get married, she's unlovable.
And Jesus takes my hand.
And my Father, the One who told me not to do it in the first place, the One to decide my punishment, says, satan, I don't even KNOW what you're talking about. I see no fault in her; I see My child.
And Jesus says, she is my bride, she's dressed in white, in the robes I gave her.
Jesus paid satan for that dress the night he spent in hell.

What does it mean to you that He died once for all?

Romans 6:10, Hebrews 10:10, 1 Peter 3:18

Love,
Faye

ALL OF ME

2006-10-29T08:56:00.000-08:00

Take my life and let it be consecrated Lord, to thee.
Take my moments and my days, let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love.
Take my feet and let them be swift and beautiful for thee.

Take my voice and let me sing always, only for my king.
Take my lips and let them be filled with messages from thee.
Take my silver and my gold not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect and use every power as you choose.

::Chorus::
Here am I, all of me.
Take my life, it's all for thee.

Take my will and make it Thine it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart it is thine own; it shall be thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord I pour at your feet its treasure store
Take myself and I will be ever, only all for thee,
Take myself and I will be ever, only all for thee.

Here am I, All of me.
Take my life, It's all for thee.

Amazing Grace- Amazing Change

2006-10-20T06:57:00.000-07:00

John Newton and William Wilberforce

So i finally saw this last night. They had a guy lead us out to a reception playing "Amazing Grace" on bagpipes and then a woman sang "Amazing Grace" for us. She at one point stopped and looked at notes, and then smiled, to show a mistake that was of course forgiven by laughter from the crowd, indicating grace in a humorous, touching way. It was lovely. This film is lovely. They are releasing it (INTERNATIONALLY!) on the 200-year anniversary of Parlaiment's abolition of the slave trade.

The best part is the passion behind this film to promote a larger cause. The slave trade is still alive and thriving, only underground, which means it is better organized and more complex, the Director pointed out. "Amazing Grace" will be used as a platform to promote "Amazing Change" which, yes, begins with "me".

Check out http://www.theamazingchange.com and sign the petition. Check back often because by the time this movie is released, they will have updated the site. GO SEE THIS MOVIE February 23rd!!! And let the change begin with "me".

In Dreams

2006-09-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

Saturday night in Nashville, he was back in my dreams. It served as a warning, to find him there, to let him settle in for awhile, to pretend to trust him temporarily. He was trying to convince me i could. He was trying to convince me i could make a commitment to him.
I let him use me, and confronted him with the fact that i knew he had been with someone else in the meantime. I didn't care about myself. It was all for him.
When i woke up i wondered if we had in fact gotten back together, and if i had in fact believed him. In the safety of my sleep, i had been testing it out, because that day, God had asked me,
How far are you willing to go for Me?
How much of yourself are you going to give to Me?
How willing are you to let go of your pride?
How loving are you going to be?
As far and as much and as willing and as loving as you want me to be, Lord.
Then,
If I asked you to, would you give him your trust again?
My hesitant answer as it had been all along was,
Yes, Lord.
When i realized it had been a dream, and he was not there, i understood why. I was being reminded of the reality of the situation. In pouring myself out for others, i should never become so empty that He can only get to me through a drip.

Last week in Indy, the evil he exposed me to was back in my nightmares. It served as more than just a warning to find it there; i couldn't let it settle in even for awhile or pretend to trust it even temporarily. It couldn't convince me i could.
This one came as a confirmation of my calling, and as a result of my feelings when at Borders last week. Holding Carter in my arms to keep him away from Maxim etc. did nothing to keep his eyes safe from the end of the row, where JJ was featured on the cover of -?- , one unclothed breast reminiscent of Superbowl scandal, hand covering pretty much only her nipple. And he is going to see this everywhere, and this is going to be normal to him.
The TV program i was watching with a few others contained a graphic sex scene. As we watched, a third person was introduced into the act and more was exposed. A fellow viewer explained the new rating system in response to my disgust. The leniency of it only added to the dismay i felt. They were not free and enjoying it; i knew better. Another viewer reminded me he told me so: the media is just boiling the frog.
This is what it will be like in 10 years-
NO, Lord!
-if you don't do something about it.

How It Changed My Life

2006-09-11T20:16:00.000-07:00

Living in Chicago and being a college student, my experience on September 11th, 2001, was different than most who will be reading this. I was just talking to a friend about this, so i thought it'd be important to post.

I woke up early and didn't have to be on campus until a 10 am GAMMA meeting, so I went back to bed for 2 hours or something. When I woke back up at 9:30 or so, I had 5 messages on my cell phone from my parents. All I remember was they had panicked voices. I jotted down notes, like, taking messages, and they said something like, "2 planes" and "WTC" and I actually did not have cable so I could not turn on the news and see what was going on.

I remember just a week or so before that, walking around the streets in Chicago and thinking about World War II and how when I was younger and learned about it, I thought it would be so exciting and interesting to have to build bomb shelters and ration cans and panty hoes. I had just been thinking that I would never experience life like that.

When I called him, my dad explained more fully what had happened, b/c I was pretty clueless, obviously. I told my dad that I never wanted to have kids and I MEANT it. For those of you who really know me, that probably says it all.

I started calling friends and friends started calling me. Classes were completely cancelled and the Greek coordinator told me to come to campus anyway to be around people who could love on me. One of my sisters told me to come to campus, everyone was just getting together and grilling out.

I know that has to sound strange, that we all had a big cookout after hearing about the biggest tragedy to ever affect our lives. Making my way there, I noticed EVERYONE was walking around on their cell phones. I literally did not see one person not simply walking around outside talking on their cell phone, calling home, asking how everyone was, making sure to say, "I love you," slowly, meaningfully. And not only that but glancing up from their conversations to smile at people walking by.

Actually being on campus was an entirely different story.

The Muslims were being stoned.
My sister who had just finished an internship on the Chicago Board of Trade broke down crying- and I have never otherwise seen this girl cry except once during Recruitment- because some of her friends were working in the WTC and no one could get ahold of them.
My sister whose dad was supposed to be on a plane to New York City that morning could not get ahold of him.
My family could not get ahold of my cousin who lived a few blocks away (?) from the WTC at the time.
My best friend from high school was panicking b/c she'd just done an internship there for a semester and had a serious boyfriend still living there, in school a few blocks away from the WTC.
My best friend and previous room mate was in Italy and I MISSED her and could not stand not being able to get ahold of her, let alone hug her and cry with her.

Everyone was hugging each other.
Everyone was asking, "how are you?" looking into the person's eyes, and waiting for the answer.
Everyone was slow.
EVERYONE was THERE.

My cousin who lives in New York (of whom we obviously got ahold) said that everything slowed down. People didn't walk as fast. Cars didn't drive as fast. In fact, no one even honked, at all, for at least an entire week.

My sister who was doing her student teaching cried to me as she smoked her Marlboro Ultra Light on the steps of her townhouse that night. The superintendent of Chicago Public Schools had made a public announcement that not one teacher was to bring up the events of the day when school opened the next. They were also to immediately change the subject if it were brought up. And don't forget, you do NOT say the word "God."

When I was buying something at the Dominick's at Fullerton and Racine, my cashier was this guy who I'd seen working there a million times. We asked each other, "how are you?" and I remember looking into his eyes and knowing that he cared, and that he knew that I cared, and we genuinely wanted to know the answer. The rest of the line did not mind at all that we were talking; they wanted to know the answer, too.

I know I mentioned the Muslims were being stoned. I kindof kept writing about other stuff b/c I can't think about this too long or hard. The sweet, meek, gentle girls walking to campus to be with their friends, seeking support, wearing long skirts and veils, had to deal with people throwing rocks at them. They had to have security surround them in the Caf. They wouldn't even look me in the eye anymore.

This is a subject that is difficult for me to bring up because of what happened, or didn't happen, that night.
Because of Labor Day, and how the DePaul Autumn Quarter always starts the Wednesday after Labor Day and goes until the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the first night of my Arabic class was cancelled.
I remember talking long and hard with God about this, walking around the city streets. The week before September 11, I was like, God, SEND me over there, DO something with me, USE me, and then after I was like, just kidding, I had no idea what I was talking about. Scared. In shock. I am pretty sure that if what happened on September 11th had occurred BEFORE I registered for that class, I wouldn't have done it at all. But this was almost confirmation of a calling to me, and I am not proud to say I chickened out completely.

The events of September 11th, 2001 instilled a fear in me I can not describe. I absolutely can not handle crowds anymore. They make me extremely nervous. I also started feeling really needy and couldn't stand living alone. These two factors combined into the perfect concoction to prepare me for dating the biggest mistake of my life.

I pretty much immediately landed in a relationship with someone who was controlling, because I needed that. We basically lived together, which I have never believed in. On the night of Midnight Madness, I started getting really panicked because everyone was hanging out on the streets and drinking and yelling at each other. I felt like there was going to be a mob or fight or something. He actually yelled at me, saying, what do you think is going to happen? I am here, do you think I would let anything happen to you? and I was putty. I am not attracted to fighting, I hate violence. But this is how my mentality changed because of the attack. For some warped reason, being with a guy who was strong and ready to fight made me feel safe. I was primed to allow someone to control me; I wanted it, because I felt like everything was completely out of control. Ironically, the final reason I broke it off with him is that he was planning on getting into a fight to support a friend, and tried to justify it with the explanation that his dad was in the mafia and no one had ever come after his family, but I didn't wake up from that nightmare until a year and a half later.

I remember at the town house, watching the video of people jumping out of the building to their death, rather than stay inside and wait. You never had before, and never have since, seen people killing themselves on the news. I think I threw up.

I recognized right away that the September 11th attacks were part of a spiritual battle. I was immediately afraid that we were going to seek vengeance, and God definitely and clearly spoke to me about this subject. Vengeance is the Lord's.

I went to the Well for the first time on the night of Wednesday, September 12th. Everything I had prayed about and written about that day was coming straight through the mouth of the leader of the group. He looked straight into my eyes and the Holy Spirit spoke straight to my heart. I can not say I have experienced anything that direct otherwise. Every song the worship leader played that night had been running through my head all day. I can't say that I have ever felt God's Presence surround a group of people so strongly. There was a vigil that night and people from all different religions and backgrounds came, and verbally cried out to God, and cried, and prayed. We were all holding each other up. I felt so much love, and so close to my sisters. God was all over Chicago around September 11th. The Well and the Greek communities confirmed this.

The news was on constantly. I remember crying to my dad about this. I could not handle having absolutely ZERO other media except this, so concentrated, for such a long period of time. When I was depressed three years earlier, my counselor told me to establish a routine so that I wouldn't feel so much anxiety. So that became watching Friends at 6 and 10 every night, and eating dinner and getting homework done in between, going to bed after (being at school all day before). Well Friends wasn't on anymore. They had definitely taped the first few episodes, and they were definitely not airing them any time soon.

I don't want it to sound morbid to say that this made me ridiculously angry at Bin Laden. I was just overwhelmed at the way that ONE person, ONE event, ONE moment in time, could disrupt even that. That he could limit my choices of what to see, hear, and do.

I was doing clinical observations at the Northern Trust Bank's day care downtown. I had to drive by the Sears Tower to get to it. It was blocked off, so I had to drive a different way to get there, and there were days for the next few months when I was not allowed to physically be within a mile radius of it.

There were red days, do you remember those? Those were the days we weren't supposed to be near any major tourist attraction. Just try to navigate the city within those boundaries.

There was that threat that on Halloween, the Water Tower was going to be hit. I'm pretty sure this was an actual plan that was foiled by its mere publicity. It made perfect sense to me, that if you're going to attack capitalism, bomb the place where the most people in the Midwest thrive on materialism. The plan was that this guy, who had been working security there, was going to smuggle in bombs or something. His girlfriend found out and emailed everyone she knew, who in turn emailed everyone they knew. I can't say that this was a hoax, b/c it would have made a lot of sense.

It made me see things that way, that they were right, that America is ridiculous to be so competitive and bossy and arrogant. This mentality was blown out of proportion as the fear within me grew, that someone was going to say something really stupid and get us into a lot of trouble. What happened though is that some of the very ideals they attacked were ironically our survival.

Has any other event so bound a people together? Has any other event so united the world? A woman called in to a radio program, sharing how she and her husband had been in Greece that day. At dinner, when they told their waiter their order, their accent gave away their nationality. The people who heard were moved so much so that a woman at the next table simply burst into tears.

I had visited New York earlier that year in March, and returned in December. Having been in that Arabic class, I picked up an Arabic newspaper to see if I could at least sound out some words. It was something cool about being in a big city; Arabic newspapers aren't lying around all over America. It wasn't even an American newspaper written in Arabic, but a newspaper from somewhere in the Middle East. I sounded it out, deciding to figure out the consonant sounds and then determine the vowels (which are indicated by accents in Arabic). The first word I ever read on my own in Arabic? Bin Laden.

I hate that guy.

I definitely went to Ground Zero then and I have pretty much blocked most of that out of my memory. Think about all of the things people brought to set by the center. Now think of all of those things sitting through the elements for 3 months. The photographs of lost loved ones, the teddy bears, and the ribbons were no match for the letters. I can't express to you how people's pain leaped out of their mere words posted on those fences.

a song i couldn't get enough of: Bring It On by Steven Curtis Chapman

Delta Zetas
in thinking about September 11th, i am experiencing flashbacks of fragmented pictures held in my mind accompanied by deep-seated pangs of LOVE FOR YOU.

allegory, duh

2006-07-27T15:28:00.000-07:00

Grover just introduced us to his friend Asha. She lives somewhere in Africa and was watching all of the other children dance on stilts. She ran to her father and asked if he could teach her how to dance on stilts. He was happy to.

He left what he was doing and immediately got her some stilts, pulling them on tightly around her legs. Asha said she almost fell when she first tried to walk, but her dad caught her. The video showed her walking along a wall, facing it. Her dad was behind her, to the side. She lost her balance at one point and just fell straight back.

She did not look behind. She was not scared. Her dad caught her. She knew he would.

I am not like this at all with my Father.

Elsa, age 3, and me

2006-07-24T23:03:00.000-07:00

me: Elsa, do you talk about Jesus at your school?
Elsa: no
me: they don't tell you about Jesus?
Elsa: no... but me and Diana talk about Jesus
me: what do you talk about?
Elsa: um... Jesus. Jesus being born.
me: oh, like at Christmas?
Elsa: yeah, when Jesus was born.
me: do you know that Jesus grew up?
Elsa: yeah!
me: do you know that He loves you?
Elsa: yes! (she said something else, i forget, like, He loves everyone, or He loves Carter, too- her brother)
me: does Jesus live in your heart?
Elsa: yeah
me: that's awesome, Elsa! He lives in my heart, too!
Elsa: yeah, He makes me love
me: what?
Elsa: my heart makes me love; it tells me to love people
me: yeah, do you know that's Jesus in your heart?
Ella: mmhmm!

[what my sister said: that is the cutest thing i have ever heard!! it makes me really happy too that she is so young yet so smart!!]

His job

2006-07-14T08:55:00.000-07:00

Romans 8:26 Hebrews 7:25
He lives FOR us, to save us, to intercede for us

hear
forgive
heal

Walking Away

2006-06-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

(this is from myspace)
hey friends,
i know this isn't the work-related blog i intended to post (b/c there is so much going on this week i can't sit still long enough to write it out coherently)
but here is something more immediate:
it's a story of God at work, which i know you can never get enough of so you'll appreciate it i'm sure.
my lil sis in my sorority moved in with me during college and ended up kindof screwing me over in many ways and turned out to be not so much of a friend. she just joined our sorority's web group and i was like, ew. and then she requested to add me as a friend, and i was like, double ew- what is she thinking!? does she not remember that we hate each other? i really didn't want to be confronted with these feelings from my past. i hate hating people, so i write them off. it's bad. i'm a total bitch.
i had conflicting feelings about adding her. i almost sent her a message to say to her, i'm kindof confused and not quite sure as to why you would add me as a friend... and i finally hit "accept."
also yesterday that guy Josh wrote me a message. i assure you, he did not read my blog about how i didn't like his comment. but he wrote to say, "i'm sorry if you didn't like my comment >wanting to get to know you<." Again, i know, heinous bitch.
i'm having a laundry day so i'm back and forth at my computer, online, getting music, etc. and i just saw that she left me a comment. you can all read it of course. she wrote a blog. it was an apology. i am supposed to be the bigger person here, her big sis, someone she's supposed to look up to.
i spent way too long letting a root of bitterness grow. i don't like feeling like that, so i end up just writing people off. i am learning lately (it's going on a year now to be honest) that i am critical as an "offense" mechanism (i mean i know there are ppl who can relate but it's something i'm really struggling with). i write people off immediately when they hurt me. i let myself believe they're not my real friends so they're not worth it, so i just move on.
it goes beyond my feelings about it. i added her thinking, God i really wanted to keep this crap in my past. i had NO desire to forgive her. (see what i'm saying, heinous.) what courage and humility she has shown by taking that step out and asking for forgiveness and offering it.
God never ceases to amaze me in showing me how much growing up i have to do. thankfully He's tremendously faithful.
love it?
(let me know!)
being stretched,
love,
faye

***HER RESPONSE***

hey faye...I just read this. (sorry i'm a little late) Thanks for reaching out as well. You could have shut me out but believe it or not, I had faith that you would forgive me because I remember what kind of person you are. You are a nice, honest, and forgiving person. I'm also glad you are searching within (many people go throughout their lives not even caring to become self aware). I guess that's half the battle. I too amd questing into inner happiness but believe me it's been a struggle these past few years. If I told you, you'd probably think I was crazy or stupid or a combination of both. I could write a book but i'm pretty sure i'd be the only one buying it. Unless it was on Oprah's book club, then i'd be a millionaire. (totally off subject)

Anyway, I'm thankful for your forgiveness and I truly have missed you.

Love,
Jackie

i guess i just feel like crying

2006-05-25T22:33:00.000-07:00

i'm really not even sad i mean it isn't happy but i'm not upset

i don't even know how to explain. i can't even really think about all of it right now.

i am going to try to put this in order as best i can.

i'm still kindof in shock about my ex-sub and ex-assistant and how today my ex-boss (yay, ex!) gave me an unbelievable amount of praise and told me what a great teacher i am and even that he admires my work ethic and attitude. but he brought up the "conflict" that he didn't even hear both sides of. he did it "respectfully" but almost in a way that he wanted me to cry or to make me feel bad or something.

and i'm not going to let him or them. i almost laughed at him a couple of times and ended up having to just flare my nose while he was talking b/c he was flat-out lying to my face and i just didn't care.

i was at work for 10 1/2 hours today.

and i'm sick.

i mean i really don't feel good and would have been in bed all day.

everything took forever long to finish.

and no one there is all that happy about the way the dir is running the show. some ppl in fact feel very disrespected, and they have been. that's why i'm thankful that the outcome of my being disrespected was being let go or whatever (I really don't think I was fired, I just wasn't re-hired!) he's just so unfair it's good i don't have to be around him. but i guess it's that i care a lot about everyone he's treating the way he does. i think most of them don't realize how it SHOULD be and he gets away with it all.

and i almost walked in on something today. thankfully i heard it b4 i saw it. it really disturbed me. but i don't want to care about it. i criticize too much when i care. WHO it was disturbed me, WHERE it was disturbed me, ew, HOW it was disturbed me, and WHEN it was disturbed me. I mean, duh, WHAT it was and WHY disturbed me in general. I guess it's that it didn't surprise me, and i didn't even feel anything, disgust, disappointment, anger, annoyance, etc.

i'm really drained but i'm not tired. just out of it i guess. is that weird? can that even happen? i don't know how else to explain it.

oh man back to the order. this has only been erased and rewritten like 3-4 times.

so so so so so much good happened today. i can't not cry when i think about it. but that cry is sadder than for anything else i must have to cry about. i'm really really sad i guess that i don't get to get to know those people i work with better. I was writing them all letters today and then delivered them and then got to talk to everyone and I could've written at least 10 more. I am going to miss those PEOPLE. But I don't think I'll feel any DIFFERENT b/c I am still wanting to get to know them all better.

i guess it should be embarassing or frustrating that i can't tell anyone what i'm going to do next and everyone wonders why i'm leaving and doesn't understand and maybe thinks i was fired or something is wrong with me for wanting to leave. i mean, this place is as absolutely good as it gets besides the way it is run by the one person who doesn't really even do his own job.

I can't dwell on the one negative aspect of my job, when so much else good happened. God really allowed me so many opportunities.

I want to write about all of that stuff, what i'm learning and who i'm becoming and what i got out of this experience. it was just so much so fast i can't write about it. i have to cry about it until it's all processed. it's just like life to be such a beautiful mix of good and bad.

maybe that's why i'm not tired but i'm not thinking either.

and i AM sick, in fact, how or why i don't know, but i should have been in bed all day and i know i will be all day tomorrow. i didn't even turn something in. they can just get it themselves.

i guess it's the strangest, happiest thing in my life right now that i DON'T know what i'm doing next. i like it like that. i'm probably not ready for the next thing yet. and i really trust, like i said i am not worried about it (AT ALL which makes everyone else uneasy!) that God is going to show me when i am.

i guess it's weird to have had to say goodbye when i feel like i'm not done getting to know those people, or i haven't been able to offer all i can to those kids. or that i'm not ready to stop thinking about it.

i am really probably going to spend the whole day in bed tomorrow, and not because i'm sad. i am really excited that i am not sad. it's like the natural reaction i should be having to everything right now is depression but it's just not happening b/c i have too much joy. which is why i keep saying i FEEL like crying but how i feel doesn't matter at all.

there was a car wreck tonight. at the one point that i actually left work to go down the block to get food, there was a wrecked car. a wrecked van full of ppl was inbetween the trees. and everyone and their neighbor came out to look at it in person.

i thought about that last night when i looked out 465 and saw intense heavy traffic and then looked down the other way from the overpass to see a car turned the wrong direction smashed up into the concrete median. i never look at car accidents, but i couldn't get it into my mind. i was looking at it like i had to study it to understand it. i kept looking at it b/c i didn't get it. there was like, no evidence of a reason for it. it was the same with the wreck today, i really couldn't tell you how it could've happened that way. i am sure there were no survivors in either incident.

but last night i thought about how ppl stare, like, why would you stare? and i wasn't staring to see anything, i certainly didn't want to see any bodies. but i really was staring at a car wreck and it was a car wreck and none of it, why it happened or why everyone else was staring at it, was making any sense to me.

last night i went by it because i had to. today ppl were walking right up to the car on purpose just to see it and talk about it and tell their friends how much blood they saw. I know b/c i had my windows rolled down and the entire neighborhood, and their mothers, were all doing it. I thought there were like 10 cars involved at first b/c there were so many ppl standing around but it was all just spectators. and none of them seemed concerned, they seemed sickenly interested.

i think the way i feel is like that car wreck. i keep staring at everything going on and i can't grasp it. it's all happening in slow motion. it doesn't matter how i feel about it, it happened.

I woke up at like 3:30 am this morning and i was really upset about the violence that erupted in my classroom yesterday out of one little child, directly towards one innocent other little child. i was mad at my sub for it.

i can't get into this either, why it was so easy for me to be angry with her and why it was so wrong and how God convicted me of this and what has happened in me since.

i'm still just trying to let myself feel it piece by piece(?) i feel sick like there's a filter from all of this stuff that's going on so i won't feel it all at once b/c it's all happening all at once.

back to 3:30am, i read some Beth Moore on prayer. randomly, not on the topic at all of what i was reading about, i learned something else i needed to know. and it seriously changed my life. it's that there is no such thing as a late bloomer.

i can't write enough about that right now either.

could i ramble any more? when i do not have all the energy drained out of me i will attempt to put this into some kind of order, something that makes sense, with some kind of detail. for now i really can't explain how i feel except for like crying. and don't even think it's in a bad way. God is giving me too much good.

ROCK ON

2006-05-17T16:06:00.000-07:00

my "new assistant" today was great, she was really good with the kids, she actually barely did anything but at least she wasn't undoing everything i've done this year

and a funny thing happened

the OT (occupational therapist) had my autistic kid this morning then brought him back to the room later on. she noticed that he's talking a lot more now. i told her i'm FORCING him to use his words to get what he wants. she helped him transition into my room and then left for a conference.

when we were outside he threw a fit b/c he wanted to be pushed on the swings. he's a big baby, he refuses to listen to how to do it himself, he just wants to be pushed, so i told him no esp since he was just throwing a fit to get what he wanted.

later on as we were leaving, the dir was on the phone, i think with my autistic kid's mom. he asked me if that was better, TOTALLY expecting me to say yes. he was TOTALLY prompting me and putting words into my mouth. he seriously expected me to be like, YEAH YOU SAVED MY LIFE YOU ARE SO SMART THANK YOU SO MUCH WHAT A GREAT IDEA I WOULD BE LOST WITHOUT YOU!!! i told him the kid was fine until we got outside and then he threw a fit again. a minute later, i was walking by the office the other way (i had to drop off another kid's backpack and coat) and heard the OT say,

"you know, dir, Faye's not wrong to be doing what she's doing with him..."

totally sticking up for me. rock on
AND the psychologist is writing me a letter of recommendation! stupid buttface director!

ARGH!!!

2006-05-17T10:22:00.000-07:00

My boss is pretty much the biggest dumbass ever. my autistic kid has gotten really out of control due to the fact that we have no consistency in my room anymore and he got away with getting his way by screaming and throwing a tantrum two days in a row. Neither time was it my fault- my stupid boss intervened. you can't teach a kid that they aren't going to get their way when they scream and throw tantrums, and you can't force an autistic kid to talk, when you actually GIVE them their way when they scream and throw tantrums and refuse to use their words!

Monday sucked, my assistants have HORRIBLE attitudes. I was really nervous about sitting them down to go over the kids' needs and goals. It was really obvious to me they know very little about early childhood development. More and more I wonder why my boss hires the people he does. Actually I have it all figured out b/c I'm a spy and I can put things together that I overhear. It's the only good thing about having my room right by the office. And having a good memory.

So I went over each kid's special needs and their goals and it was nice b/c my sub was like, oh, I had no idea, and I didn't have to say, "WELL OBVIOUSLY". I explained how I expected each child to be treated based on their special needs and it worked REALLY WELL. UNTIL...

my assistant played with my autistic kid, who I told her to leave alone, up until it was clean-up time. so then it was MY job to get him to stop playing on the computer (which I had him do so he could be left completely alone) and come to circle. he's such a brat, he just throws a fit to get out of doing what he doesn't want to do. I had him sit in his chair and I stood behind him so he wouldn't throw it backwards.

He head-butted me right in my cheek.

I put him in a hold.

I got him to line up with us, knowing we were going to the gym. Then suddenly he started screaming.

I took him to the safe room and asked another assistant to get me an ice pack. My assistant & sub didn't even hear me when I said that really hurt. Seriously, I got dizzy for a minute.

So I think my jerkface boss saw/heard that I was at the safe room and someone was getting me an ice pack. I got my autistic kid to come out to go to the gym and then he threw another fit while we were walking down the hall. It's totally for attention, the little brat. Well he decided to lie down on the floor and I was giving him choices, which is in his behavior plan to do.

What do you know, the dir comes along and my autistic kid is scooting backwards on the floor and bangs his head on the column in the middle of the hallway (the kid SAW it, looked back over his head and SAW it and totally did it on purpose. the dir only saw him hit his head.) So of course my autistic kid got to go get an ice pack, which is exactly what he wanted. When he saw mine, he screamed, "MY ICE PACK" and I said, no, you hurt me (it was my cheekbone if I didn't already say that). he kept touching his forehead and saying, i hurt, my ice pack. I was like, kid, you didn't even get hurt there, you hit me w/ the back of your head! (and it didn't even leave a bump). so the kid starts punching his forehead so he can have his own ice pack, but of course I stopped him and got to put him in another hold. real fun

so my stupid ass boss basically rewarded my autistic kid for acting out. for the last 6 days of school (have I mentioned how excited i am for the alst day of school?) my autistic kid is going to be going around to diff classrooms. what an idiot, it's only going to make things worse! how unsupportive can he be

another hilarious idiotic thing my boss has decided to do is HIRE SOMEONE AT THE LAST MINUTE.

he seriously CAN NOT run the place. i haven't had a 3rd assistant since spring break. he at first said he was going to get me someone immediately, then i had random subs every other day (and i would rather not have a third person at all than have a diff sub every day) so then he put the building sub in my room. the first time I got head-butted by my autistic kid (i think it was my other cheekbone) i was like, we're having a problem with that girl and he was like, well it just doesn't make any sense for me to hire someone now at the end of the year, and I was like, well, then i need someone consistent in my room and he said she has been in my room for the past week and i again had to correct him and tell him she had not spent one full day in my room! so he said he wouldn't hire someone else unless it was someone he HAD to have, maybe year-round or something and then he promised me the sub would be in my room more consistently

that never happened, either! he suggested that i sit down with her and go over the kids' needs etc which i did Monday and then she wasn't even in my room yesterday and NOW stupid jerk dumbass idiot hired a new person for my room FOR TODAY AND TOMORROW ONLY so then the building sub is going to be back on Friday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday EXCEPT she will actually have to be in a room down the hall on those days b/c a teacher in that room is getting married and she's not actually coming back for the end of the year.

so i can't stand him b/c he doesn't even THINK about the kids when he makes decisions like this- he said this person was a "really interesting candidate" b/c she speaks 5 different languages, which, ie, means that she DOESN'T HAVE ANY EXPERIENCE WITH PRESCHOOL LET ALONE SPECIAL NEEDS PRESCHOOLERS!!!

every time i hear him laugh down the hall i'm like, LOL SHUT UP!!! (elea!)

I am counting down the days, yes. did i mention there's another teacher who is going on maternity leave for a full year, and that job was just posted, and I would technically be the one up for hire for it??? NOT IT!

it's awesome how God's timing works, how I had a nannying job and THEN the dir told me he wasn't going ask me back next year (which he never was going to do anyway) and then decided not to take that nannying job and then a job opened up where i am now but it's too late for me to be like, i would like that position! b/c even if i wanted it, i couldn't have it b/c the dir knows i'm onto him and how irresponsible and unorganized he is and that he isn't doing anything about it b/c he just doesn't care.

Happy Mother's Day? Happy Silly Day is more like it.

2006-05-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

half of church, my mom's, cleaning...

We're leaving for lunch and stuff and there's this guy walking around our neighborhood with a cordless phone. No, not a cell phone, a huge cordless phone with antenna. He's pretending to dial it and hold it up to his ear. He's carrying his coat. He's walking around like he's lost.
We get into the car and pull out to the end of the driveway and see him still pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of my mom's house. My brother goes to lock the front door (normally we leave it unlocked) and then asks the guy if he needs directions.

The man IMMEDIATELY snaps at him and is like, "I LIVE here." and my brother calmly responded, okay, can we help you? do you need any help? and the man snapped back at him about how he's trying to get ahold of someone for a ride but their phone cut out b4 he could give them the end of the directions so he's looking for them. My bro was about to offer his cell phone I think. But the man kept verbally harassing him, "it's MOTHER'S DAY. Do you know that?" and, "I'm a congressman, don't you know me? I live in this neighborhood." My mom knows most of her neighbors and has never seen him b4.

At any rate, it was weird and we called the police b/c the man was very simply and calmly OFFERED HELP and went into defense-attack mode. My mom made sure to correct my brother that the man was hispanic and not white. (I think he was Italian.)

Then Puccini's (good family times, we couldn't stop laughing, how old are we?) we talked about the guy (are we supposed know every congressman by face? I mean, I sure do, but...) then forgot it

THE MOVIE: ART SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL

We got the tickets from my mom who had been there waiting and as my sister and I went to the bathroom, I noticed it was rated R. We told my brother we couldn't go in to see an R-Rated movie (she's 15 and I usually don't like R movies so I would just as soon not pay to see one). In order to not rock the boat, since the movie had already started and my mom had already bought the tickets, we decided we would just leave if we had to.
ADVICE:
Don't go see Art School Confidential unless you want to see full-frontal male nudity.
(My sister and I got up and walked out right away. This kid goes to art school and walks into his first drawing class- it's supposed to be a nude portraiture. I really thought it would "tastefully"/"creatively" cover the nude model. It actually makes you think a woman is going to walk out in a robe and sit down, but what do you know, the art teacher does. John Malkovich already creeped me out. Now I'm traumatized for life.)
LESSON LEARNED:
Don't go in in the first place, don't wait for it to get bad, don't compromise your values, listen to your gut.
my mom left too and met us at home.

THE NEXT MOVIE

She'd seen my "Vote For Pedro" key chain and said, "who's Pedro? Vote for Pedro, who's Pedro?" I told her it was our congressman. (She didn't realize that we had gotten the crazy guy's name.)

So she got Napoleon Dynamite for Mother's Day. It had to be done. She always feels left out of our jokes. She'll ask Elea what she's up to and when Elea says, "Whatever I feel like I wanna do, GOSH," my mom tells her not to be a snot.

So she thoroughly enjoyed the movie, especially all of the parts when Napoleon or someone gets hurt. : ) (Like when Uncle Rico throws Kip's steak at his head, and when Napoleon goes over the fence and falls flat on his stomach, or when Napoleon is simply standing at his locker and someone runs up and pushes him, and when Napoleon tries out the time machine.)

Thanks, Napoleon, for bringing our family together. You're pretty much the best movie ever.

MY KIDDOS ARE CRAZY

2006-05-12T07:27:00.000-07:00

I have this one kid in my class who is autistic. At first I thought he was only CALLED autistic b/c he has behavior problems and seems to be in his own little world sometimes. I actually thought that might be due to his actual label, mild mental disability and communication disorder (CD is only labeled if the language skills are significantly below IQ so you can only imagine how well this kid communicates; in other words, he doesnt even try unless its the only way hell get what he wants).
He was acting kindof random and not getting interested which is the way he was at the beginning of the semester. He was climbing on stuff a lot and talking to himself. He went over to my kid with CP who is basically a 6-mo-old, who was in his stander (stretching his muscles to stand up, but strapped in so he doesnt fall). The kid had this little piece of a plastic flower, the part that holds the flower onto the stem. It looked like a tiny little brush. He was brushing the stander with it and looking at the CP kid and kindof singing to him.
Before that, he had refused to get up from his special chair (padded w/ a seat belt) for snack, which he also hasnt done since the beginning of the year. He kept falling over, still strapped in the chair, and laughing, or hed moan, but wasnt hurt. He went over to the CP kid who was in a foam chair w/ a seatbelt (that is like a babys car seat but you can adjust the way the kid sits in it, again to help his muscles for sitting up). The kid pulled on the back part of the straps, which made the CP kid sit up straighter. You shouldve seen his face, he didnt know what was going on behind him but he liked it. Then the kid started tapping his head and the CP kid gurgled and smiled!

OUTSIDE

So I already had my eye on him b/c he was being stranger than usual. When we got outside, I thought hed be okay. He actually left the gate, just walked right out, and when my assistant went to get him, he fought her so much that he gave her a nose bleed. Maybe you dont think thats funny; I was actually mad at him, but keep reading.
He took a tricycle over to a tree and parked it so it was leaning up against the tree and would not move. This is a small, fairly new maple tree. He stood on the tricycle like he was trying to climb the tree, but he didnt get a chance b/c I kept telling him to get down. My main concern is that the tricycle would start to roll and he would fall. Which isnt that big of a deal...
Like I said I thought he didnt really have autism. Most autistic kids wont make eye contact. He will. Most autistic kids flap their hands. He doesnt. But I looked at this autism screening chart (complete with pictures) and one of the indicators was body slamming ie the kid slams their body into people or inanimate objects. He would kindof pace around the room and fall onto the sofa seats, but I never saw him slam into another kid or the wall or anything. Right after I saw that though, we were outside and he repeatedly was climbing up a rock climbing wall onto the climber, standing up, and throwing himself onto the ground. (Dont worry, he would stand up and say, I alright. Plus the wall is only like 3 feet high and the kid is like 4 ½ feet tall; falling into the mulch isnt too bad.)

WHAT HAPPENED

So back to Monday, he kept trying to climb that tree and running away when Id catch him. But he goes right back to whatever he wants to do, always. The next time I caught him over there, he was picking bark off the tree and putting it in his mouth. Then hed chew it like cud and eventually get angry and try to spit it out.
The next time he went back to the tree, he stood up on the tricycle and pulled down a small branch really fast, and ran away with it, all b4 I could get to him. He couldnt get hurt with that so I just let him. He is oppositional-defiant so you just have to pick your battles.
Minutes later, another kid, my great verbal kid, ran over to me with the branch and told me, hes eating it. And sure enough, there were teeth marks in the leaves. We were like, well is he just hungry b/c he didnt eat snack?
So my old assistant who now has her own class brought her kids outside and I told her the story. My new assistant, when I was finished, told me I missed it, that the kid had just tried to bite the tree like an apple. I was sorry I missed that! And we werent laughing yet, just incredulous.
But surely enough, the next thing he did was walk straight over to the tree, stand right up next to it, cock his head to the left, open his mouth wide, and chomp down into it. Weirdo.
I hope this has done for you what it did for me. I wish I could give you a better visual, which you WOULD have if you met this kid. When my mom and sister called me to tell me happy Teacher Appreciation Day, I told them the story and they couldnt stop laughing. My mom said she would think of it whenever she saw a tree. I hope not, b/c that would mean she would pretty much never stop thinking about this poor strange kid.

Feel the rain on your skin...

2006-05-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

No one else can feel it for you...

Today my foster mom dropped off my foster girl late. She didn't want to come to school and then decided to. God I know You are in ultimate control over every situation and there are enough people praying about this that Your will should be done. But i find what i am about to report to be almost unbearable.

The mom told me she will be here the rest of the week, and then not Monday, then the rest of next week, and then she'll be gone again...

I said,
Gone...
Gone as in...
with another family?

And the foster mom started to cry.

I stayed so close to that little girl today. She is so full of life and love and wonder and excitement. She is truely a joyful girl. And there are few people i've ever been more protective of. But you can tell she has been through hell.

I want to keep my arms wrapped around her. I want to give her life and love. She was knocked over today by another (hyper) child twice her size and she came to me for comfort. You have no idea what a big step that is, how much her foster family had to have given her for her to have the emotional maturity to be able to do that after what shes been through, to ask someone else to meet her needs.

She is three and she can pull up the velcro on her shoes to make room to slide her foot in, and she can button and zip and these are things someone should have been doing for her and should just now be teaching her to do on her own. But she has had to learn herself. Her brother has been able to TIE his shoes for awhile now and he just turned 4.

When we left the room to catch the buses, she wanted me to carry her, which is also unusual. The most beautiful thing about this little girl is that she has this ability to be totally consumed in the moment. I think that being wrapped up in what is going on in her immediate environment has been healing her. We want to make sure she has every opportunity for safe and real and wholesome experiences, to come alive, waking up from her nightmare, and truely be herself. To know that she is loved.

The rain was light and cool and as it fell i worried it would make her grumpy, or cold, or even just uncomfortable. I thought she might still be shaken up from having been hurt only minutes before. I just kept hearing that lyric, feel the rain on your skin, and i let myself feel it. It was a gentle rain, the kind that is likened to Gods mercy. Maybe He was reminding me that as the rain covered me, so He covers me with His love. Maybe He was asking me to shower her with His love.

As the bus made its way closer, we stood waiting under the awning. I held my hand out into the rain and told her to feel it too. She reached her arm out and we both watched the drops hitting our hands. I actually thought she might draw back but instead she kept it out. I turned my hand over and she turned her hand over, watching mine. She said she felt it. When i looked at her face i knew it was a moment i would never forget. She was elated. There was nothing else on her mind except how that rain felt on her hand, how good God is. I couldnt feel it for her; she wanted to feel it for herself. She still needs your prayers, but i think she would also have you see that she is choosing to heal. Oh, what God is going to do with her life!

...the rest is still unwritten.

sunset

2006-05-04T21:39:00.000-07:00

He lures me to my perch with strokes of pink and brushes of purple.
What beauty!
Once He gets me out there, nestled in between the pear trees
the fountain whispers, the King is enthralled with your beauty.
What beauty?
The fountain is drowned out until
His voice settles inside me, louder than any other, saying,
the way you see that sunset
is just a speck of the way that I see you.

(Psalm 45:11 NIV)

current mood: in love

Don't Be A Borg!

2006-05-03T07:27:00.000-07:00

Resistance Is Futile
Ed Gungor
Author

Fitting in is killing me, Halley blurted. It was obvious she was frustrated.

Halley was a twenty-something, single, registered nurse who had given her life to Christ during her college years. She was smart, well spoken and stylish in her dress and hairstyle.

What do you mean by fitting in? I asked, suspicious that I knew exactly what she meant.

When I first came to church here, she began, I loved how people would talk with me and encourage me in my faith. I felt a gentle accountability that caused me to grow spiritually. But about a month ago I ran into this group that seemed more invasive than encouraging to me. They are very nice, but they have kind of interrogated me about everything I do, from what I wear to how I vote and what music I listen to. It isnt that they are judgmental, but it is obvious if I dont buy into their predetermined set of values, they think I am on dangerous ground that I am not being pleasing to God, or something.

Please dont misunderstand me, she continued. I want to be holy. I want Jesus Christ to be my Lord. But does that really mean I have to wear outdated styles of clothes and stop listening to Coldplay or other groups that dont have overtly Christian lyrics? Is it true I have to act just like that group prescribes or be unpleasing to God? I mean, the group all acts the same, dresses the same, responds the same they remind me of a clique from high school.

I knew exactly the kind of group Halley was talking about. They are in every church. She was talking about those wonderful believers who feel like it is their job to imitate God by trying to make others in their own likeness and image. They are Borg-ish.

The Borg

I know its no longer cool, but Im kind of a Trekky. The writers for the Star Trek television series created a scary race of beings known as the Borg. They called themselves the Collective because each of them had relinquished their individuality to function as ONE.

They were a pretty evangelistic group because everyone they bumped into along the way in the universe was assimilated into their Collective. You could try to resist their invitation but they simply replied, Resistance is futile, and assimilated you anyway. They assimilated races by infecting them with a self-duplicating, virus-like nanoprobe that changed them into Borg. They all wore the same kind of clothing and gear, walked and talked the same robotic way, and had all the trimmings one would expect to see in a horror show. Once you became Borg there was no turning back.

I have seen many groups inside Christian churches and ministries that were Borg-ish. These are not horrible people; in fact, they are often very kind and godly. But they are infected. They think they have everything figured out and everyone must externally look and act the same way.

In a Borg infected group you will not see much individual expression. Not on your life. There is a predetermined set of mannerisms that are considered holy and right. These mannerisms usually come from Bible verses taken out of context or from deductions the leaders have made deductions often based on biases against anything cool (or against women).

Its not unusual for these groups to wear out-of-style clothing (it takes about 5 to 8 years for clothing styles to become sanctified), to have the same walk (modes of behavior) and to talk the same robotic way (codified holy-language is held as a premium). And, if you value diversity and individuality, they are definitely a horror show.

We evangelicals are pretty susceptible to Borg disease because many believe the weightier part of being a Christian has to do with external mannerisms: what we wear, how we talk, what we like or dislike and what we dont do. Lets face it there is a Borg-ish, cookie-cutter, Christian culture that is touted in many Christian circles as Christ-like.

Many Christian educators and Christian leaders believe that sameness is godliness and they frown on variation. They are Borg.

Borg Free

We all want to be discipled into a pure form of Christianity, not someones brand of Christianity. And we want to be accountable to true godliness, not a human kind. But because most of us want to belong (to not belong brings terror), it is easy to just give in and try to meet the expectations of others. The problem is, we ultimately lose when we do that.

Paul wrote that we are all different, like the parts of the human body. Paul was challenging the church to dare to be different not to act and think the exact same way. Yes, we are all supposed to be holy. Yes, we are all supposed to be moral. Yes, we are all supposed to live ethically. But we are to live out holiness through the way we are wired: our different gifts, passions, and personalities.

That would mean some of us might be more fashionable than others, some more conservative than others, some more edgy than others, some quieter or more bombastic than others, some tattoo-friendly, others tattoo-phobic, et cetera. It was the apostle Paul who said, I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. Maybe as we all express ourselves in ways that are congruent with our gifts, passions, and personalities, we are best positioned to save some because those some can relate to us.

Christianity is not supposed to be a retread Eastern mysticism that forces people to forfeit their individuality and distinctiveness as they are absorbed into some great cosmic ONENESS or SAMENESS.

But sameness makes it easier for us to tell who the insiders are. Just like wearing black leather and driving a Harley-Davidson motorcycle are the marks of a biker, or wearing tight blue jeans, western boots and a huge silver belt buckle are the marks of a cowboy, Christians fancy certain external behaviors that we think are the marks of Christ-likeness. Actually, I think it would be easier to make Christianity about externals and manmade rules. But the downside of that is, unless you happen to fit the predetermined collection of personality traits set by the Christian culture you belong to, you will sense the pressure to be something other than yourself and Christianity will feel restrictive and have little joy for you. I think Satan loves that. I think he wants us all confused about what real Christianity is and wants us to live in some kind of manmade, synthetic, kiss-up belief system that is powerless.

I think real apprentices of Jesus celebrate individual expression thats the thing that best kills the Borg weirdness. Borg is about the Collective; about all being the same. Its about killing individuality and uniqueness; its about control. Thats why Christian leaders are so predisposed to catching this disease: it promises them control.

But control is not leadership. To keep leadership clean from this disease, we must be willing to lose control. We must dare to respect people and to trust God. That would allow the saints of God to break into freedom to dare to be different. Maybe thats the kind of freedom Malachi predicted would come to pass one day: And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall.

Maybe its time to go leaping.

The Hundred Languages of Children

2006-05-02T07:14:00.000-07:00

Invece il cento ce No way. The hundred is there.

Il bambino e The child
fatto di cento. is made of one hundred.
Il bambino ha The child has
cento lingue a hundred languages
cento mani a hundred hands
cento pensieri a hundred thoughts
cento modi di pensare a hundred ways of thinking
di giocare e di parlare of playing, of speaking
cento sempre cento a hundred, always a hundred
modi di ascoltare ways of listening
di stupire di amare of marveling, of loving
cento allegrie a hundred joys
per cantare e capire for singing and understanding
cento mondi a hundred worlds
da scoprire to discover
cento mondi a hundred worlds
da inventare to invent
cento mondi a hundred worlds
da sognare. to dream.
Il bambino ha The child has
cento lingue a hundred languages
(e poi cento cento cento) (and a hundred hundred hundred more)

ma gliene rubano novantanove. but they steal ninty-nine.

La scuola e la cultura The school and the culture
gli separano la testa dal corpo. separate the head from the body.
Gli dicono: They tell the child:
di pensare senza mani to think without hands
di fare senza testa to do without the head
di ascoltare e di non parlare to listen and not to speak
di capire senza allegrie to understand without joy
di amare e di stupirsi to love and to marvel
solo a Pasqua e a Natale. only at Easter and at Christmas.
Gli dicono: They tell the child
di scoprire il mondo che gi c to discover the world already there
e di cento and of the hundred
gliene rubano novantanove. they steal ninety-nine.
Gli dicono: They tell the child:
che il gioco e il lavoro that work and play
la realt e la fantasia reality and fantasy
la scienza e limmaginazione science and imagination
il cielo e la terra sky and earth
la ragione e il sogno reason and dream
sono cose are things
che non stanno insieme. that do not belong together.
Gli dicono insomma And thus they tell the child
che il cento non c. the hundred is not there.
Il bambino dice: The child says:
invece il cento c. No way. The hundred is there.

Loris Malaguzzi (translated by Lella Gandini)

ooooh so good

2006-04-23T21:27:00.000-07:00

"Give us, O Lord, steadfast hearts that cannot be dragged down by false loves; give us courageous hearts that cannot be worn down by trouble; give us righteous hearts that cannot be sidetracked by unholy or unworthy goals. Give to us also, our Lord and God, understanding to know You, diligence to look for You, wisdom to recognize You, and a faithfulness that will bring us to see You face to face." (Thomas a Kempis)

"As we do come in Jesus' name, it is the same as though Jesus prayed. It is the same as though- let me be saying it very softly so it may seem very reverent- as though Jesus put His arm in yours and took you up to the Father, and said, 'Father, here is a friend of Mine; we're on good terms. Please give him anything he asks, for My sake.' And the Father would quickly bend over and graciously say, 'What'll you have? You may have anything you ask when My Son asks for it.'" (S.D. Gordon)

stupid!

2006-04-22T15:14:00.000-07:00

I keep hearing that song lyric in my head,

"I'll stop this pretending that I can somehow deserve What I already have."

And I don't get it. Deserving something has nothing to do with having it or not. I know this concept. It's called grace. So what does deserving it have to do with already having it? I feel like they're unrelated.

Except that's the entire point. They are unrelated. So we try to deserve this Thing. Maybe because we think we don't have It. But we do indeed already have It.

How stupid are we to do anything to try to deserve Something we already have? Why do anything at all to try to get It? We already have It!

say what

2006-04-18T23:03:00.000-07:00

You want me to have faith? Keep praying? Hope?
My faith is the evidence of what I hope for?
If I ask in Your name You will bring it to pass?
You're actually GIVING me the faith?
You LOVE me?
You care?
You will never leave me...

Lovely

2006-04-18T11:09:00.000-07:00

"Let me tell you a story
of a little boy who had lost his way
in search for something to make it
a better day.
But all he seemed to find was a world of hurt and pain,
and a place that didn't seem to care that he'd lost his way.

So the boy began to cry.
Yes, the boy began to cry,
'Does anyone love me? Does anyone care?
Is anyone out there
that finds me lovely?

Just when the little boy had lost all hope, well,
along came a Man that ushered him in.
He held him to His chest, and He said,
'Little boy, it's time you rest.'

He opened up His arms and said,
'I've been searching for you for some time.
Now, little boy, you have found a home,
and no longer shall you roam.'

Then the Man began to cry.
Yes, the Man began to cry,
'Don't you know I love you?
Don't you know I care?
And I will always be here.

And I find you lovely.
Yes, I find you lovely.'"

( by Shawn McDonald)

on His silence

2006-04-08T14:42:00.000-07:00

I can't pray b/c He won't hear me. (And b/c I really don't know what to pray for anymore.) He won't hear me b/c He won't forgive me. He won't forgive me b/c I am struggling to forgive. I can't forgive b/c I'm so hurt and angry and so afraid of being hurt again. If I start to forgive, I find I can't forget b/c I can't trust. I don't even know HOW to forgive without His Holy Spirit. And because of this, I have gradually lost trust in Him.
It's been a year now. I'm lost without Him and I can't find a way back. I feel like the first thing I have to do is confess, so I start but find He's turned His face. I've lost Him and He doesn't want me back. I've let Him down completely and He's done with me.
I think this is where my discouragement stems from: that He is NOT being glorified through this. I have read/heard so many stories in the past year of people whose lives He has totally turned around but that isn't what's happening to me. I don't get that. I want His will to be done, but none of this can be what He wants b/c it's too ugly.

About the 30th and 31st

2006-03-31T17:12:00.000-08:00

1. I have (a) big: dreams
2. I wish I were: skating, in Paris, snuggling
3. I am so tired of: sin
4. I hate: hypocrites
5. I was: a hypocrite
6. My boss is: "a good guy, but a bit of a control freak"
7. This weather: is soooooo wonderful. March 30, 2006 goes down in Perfect-Weather history (you said it Tabby, too bad I didn't get to have my bday dinner outside!) BUT TODAY, the 31st, this weather: is making me a little upset b/c like I said, I want to go skating
8. My friends are: scattered. distant.
9. I like to: sing (when no one can hear me!) and read
10. This morning I woke up: with the Chicken Dance song in my head and ha ha remember at USA skates you'd clap, "I like to skate!!!" (thanks a lot, Joshua-Philip)
11. I am very: sensitive. disorganized right now
12. My bed is really: foam on the floor
13. My car: is like my traveling closet
14. My mom said that I should: be happy
16. When I get home: I write out assessments and goals! watch That 70's Show, or fall asleep
17. My phone is: pretty cool, and it was free
18. When I am in a bad mood: I cry
19. My room is: bare and messy
20. I want to get: married some day
21. I wish I had: self-esteem! for crying out loud, a keyboard
22. My Computer is: pretty old but trusty
23. This weekend: I thought I was going to have a party or two to bbq and get in the hot tub but it's windy and stormy! SNAP!
24. When I get drunk: I pants people. Sorry. I have no self-control.
25. I want people to: know and love and be loved by Jesus
26. The last time I watched a movie was: um, last weekend?
27. I wish It were: sunnier and not about to rain
28. I feel: serious. almost content. but a little stressed out (it's been one hell of a week)

PREGO!

2006-02-09T21:46:00.000-08:00

I know this is silly but I have to explain.

I have recently become pretty convicted about eating food as organic as possible. I've discovered it's really not much more expensive and after 2 weeks of a more organic diet, I feel really good.

There was one exception, however. I have had to try new things and if I really dislike it, it may go to waste. I'd already found my favorite spaghetti sauce and wouldn't even need to try anything new. Except it's not organic.

I bought my 3rd try of pasta sauce and actually LOVED it but then realized it wasn't even organic! I was frustrated. It cost as much for like a third of the amount of my favorite, too.

So here was my thought process:

WHY CAN'T MY FAVORITE SAUCE JUST BE ORGANIC!? Well, that would be asking too much. They'll never make an organic sauce. I should just keep buying the Prego. No, I'm going to stand firm. I'll keep trying other sauces and maybe I'll even find one I like MORE than Prego.

(Prego is really important to me seeing as how it is a staple food item in my semi-vegetarian diet and it's pretty cheap too. Spaghetti is also a very easy food to make and keep for someone living alone.)

But then my thought process continued, Yeah right, I doubt there are that many choices. What if Prego were organic? I wish Prego would just make an organic sauce. That'll never happen. I guess I should pray and ask God to have them make an organic sauce. That's just such a silly thing to pray about! Maybe if I write to them they'll think about it. It'll never happen. I'll just have to keep trying and end up settling.

I was frustrated and doubtful b/c I want everything to be perfect. And I let it go b/c it's not the end of the world. But every other organic selection has been yummy and SO much better for me. Then while was watching Beauty and the Geek (a GREAT social experiment!) tada, there was a commercial for Prego Organic. It was a silly little thing, but it made my day, and it made me cry. That God cares that much about me to show me He answers prayer and cares about even the SMALLEST detail of my life. And yours.

You can think I'm silly but a few years ago in Bible study, one of my sorority sisters was talking about how intimately involved God wants to be in our lives. She said something that I've used to remind myself of an important truth, time and time again, but of course forgot at the time: "He even wants to help you decide what spaghetti sauce to buy at the grocery store."

You'd better believe it.

Much Ado About Nothing

2006-02-06T19:53:00.000-08:00

Today I was cutting with TEACHER scissors and I sliced my finger open- I just got a little too close!

I had to go to the occupational health clinic for TWO hours and ended up with a SPLINT on my finger.

: P but it's comical

BITERS!

2006-02-01T18:30:00.000-08:00

I have two biting incidents to announce.

I was out in the hall yesterday with a kid in a hold (ask me if you don't understand what this means- maybe I'll have to provide a pic in order to decrease concern). Then the teacher I assist in the mornings came out with another child and put him in a hold! I looked at her and shook my head. And suddenly the kid bit her!

She said, so calmly, "he just bit me." I wrinkled my nose. Then I got my kid under control and took him in. She came in a minute later and let her kid go. She said, "I need to go to the nurse," and showed us that he did indeed bite her on the arm. I'm not saying he just nipped (b/c that's what he usually does) but he dug in and broke the skin and drew blood!

She had to go to the occupational health center and get a tetanus shot and have it checked out. (siiick...)

She was gone for 2 hours.

TODAY:

My assistant in the afternoons had our kid with CP out (if you do not understand this either, please ask me what it means!). She was really playing with him a lot, having him stand up (he can stand with assistance for 4 minutes) and took him over to the sink to play in the water. Then she sat him down to try to color (he can hold a crayon for like a minute).

He usually chews on his finger and we're trying really hard to break him of the habit. I've bought him stuff to chew on instead, gloves, and bibs. He mostly chews when he's nervous, which is a lot.

So she had her hand over his to keep pulling it out of his mouth. He bit off some crayon and chewed on it. Then he suddenly CHOMPED down on HER arm! We think he thought it was his hand, b/c it was covering his hand. He bit through her thick sweater and broke the skin!

So SHE had to go to the clinic. Our director came in and said she'd be there for a few minutes and they'd have someone come in to help. I said, yeah, 3:20! (b/c that's when we get the kids ready to go home and have to shove them on the buses) He said, it should only be a few minutes, implying she'd be back by then. I reminded him the teacher in my am class was there for 2 hours yesterday! and told her to take a book.

The nurse was joking and said our director said it'd be a few minutes, but more like 2 hours. We sent her on her way and did not see her again today. (No one came to my room to help at 3:20 either!)

Two biting incidents right in front of me- I'm sure to be next. We're all in our first year at this job, too. Can't wait to see what the next 30 years hold!

This is amazing.

2006-01-10T19:44:00.000-08:00

I feel definitely called to where I am, working with special needs preschoolers. It's challenging and exciting, but sadly it can also be extremely draining. Today was one of those draining days.

I'm in someone else's room in the afternoons. That means this teacher has been there (much) longer (in fact so much so that she is retiring at the end of the semester) than I have and she has her room entirely set up for her own class. That doesn't work for another teacher. Like, at all. Especially because she has not given me an INCH of her room. She even made a comment that "they" were going to have to get my computer in and where would they put it? Like we're not expected to share a computer. Sheesh.

The principal said I should put up curtains to hide a lot of the toys in the room at first so the kids aren't making huge messes they don't know how to clean up. Normally I would gradually introduce materials. She told me she had curtains she would bring in and finally did yesterday. Three of them. I needed 9. And I seriously NEED 9 to hide the clutter that has overtaken her room. I don't think she's ever taken anything OUT of it, just added to it. So I put up the 3 curtains. Then she took them down. Sheesh.

So today I was getting one of the kids in my morning class ready to go home and the principal came up to me and asked if he could borrow me. As he walked me down the hall, he explained I would be getting a new student. That's ..9 and today is my 2nd day. (I would have started with 3-4 and an assistant but we had this break and ended up waiting until the first day back. My assistant is great, by the way. I really really can't complain.) So he tells me that my 9th student is a little guy with CP. I racked my brian for 10 seconds and uncovered the code: cerebral palsy. My principal further explained that it was a SEVERE case of CP. We turned the corner and as I was taking in this difficult information, we faced the child himself, his mother sitting next to him.

Wow. This kid barely responded when I said hello to him. But he was smiley and talkative (please understand that means he babbled a lot). His mother seemed grateful and maybe a little bit nervous. I other hand, was flat-out extremely nervous. I tried to be friendly and act comfortable as I walked them down to "my" classroom.

Sadly, looking in the window is how I found out my curtains had been torn down. (there was also absolutely no wall space for any of MY kids' artwork but whatever, I'm not bitter.) But I really REALLY felt like crying when my principal later on told me that the solution to the problem of having to put up and take down stupid CURTAINS every day was to BUY MORE CURTAINS which actually posed ANOTHER problem that I couldn't bring myself to actually admit at the time: I have no money until Friday. And even then, I am only getting paid for the week before Christmas, of part-time work. SHEESH!

So I helped pick-up time for the am class and went back to the room. The other assistant in that class (sooo sweet) asked about the curtains. I almost started crying... and decided to go for a drive.

Well my second class went great, just like yesterday. I love my kids to death. And it's ridiculously easy. But I still felt nervous about this new kid #9.

I started to feel like I have bitten off more than I can chew. I'm a little overwhelmed that God trusts me THIS much. Did I sign on for too much?

I came home (woah I am home by 4:30 now and I used to get home at 6:30- what do I do with myself!?) and read the kid's papers. There are a lot of papers. I wanted to cry today when I read part of it, one column titled "gifts, talents and capacities" (including "says four words") and the other column entitled "greatest challeneges". But safe at home, I started skimming through some of it and happened upon this:

"He makes sounds and noises and he waves 'bye bye'. Mother stated that he says 'yeah', 'no', 'dada', 'halleluiah' and 'Jesus'."

THEN I cried.

He also likes church music. : )

The History of the 12 Days of Christmas

2005-12-21T20:00:00.000-08:00

From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.

The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.

Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.

Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.

The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.

The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.

The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.

Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit-Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.

The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.

Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit - Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.

The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments.

The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.

The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.

May God grant you peace and happiness throughout this Christmas Season.

Thanksgiving

2005-11-24T02:34:00.000-08:00

Washington, D.C.
October 3, 1863

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consiousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom.

No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People.

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

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the Unites States the Eighty-eighth.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

***
Washington, D.C.
March 30, 1863

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

Whereas, the Senate of the United States, devoutly recognizing the Supreme Authority and just Government of Almighty God, in all the affairs of men and of nations, has, by a resolution, requested the President to designate and set apart a day for National prayer and humiliation.

And whereas it is the duty of nations as well as of men, to own their dependence upon the overruling power of God, to confess their sins and transgressions, in humble sorrow, yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon; and to recognize the sublime truth, announced in the Holy Scriptures and proven by all history, that those nations only are blessed whose God is the Lord.

And, insomuch as we know that, by His divine law, nations like individuals are subjected to punishments and chastisements in this world, may we not justly fear that the awful calamity of civil war, which now desolates the land, may be but a punishment, inflicted upon us, for our presumptuous sins, to the needful end of our national reformation as a whole People? We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven. We have been preserved, these many years, in peace and prosperity. We have grown in numbers, wealth and power, as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace, and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us; and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us!

It behooves us then, to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins, and to pray for clemency and forgiveness.

Now, therefore, in compliance with the request, and fully concurring in the views of the Senate, I do, by this my proclamation, designate and set apart Thursday, the 30th. day of April, 1863, as a day of national humiliation, fasting and prayer. And I do hereby request all the People to abstain, on that day, from their ordinary secular pursuits, and to unite, at their several places of public worship and their respective homes, in keeping the day holy to the Lord, and devoted to the humble discharge of the religious duties proper to that solemn occasion.

All this being done, in sincerity and truth, let us then rest humbly in the hope authorized by the Divine teachings, that the united cry of the Nation will be heard on high, and answered with blessings, no less than the pardon of our national sins, and the restoration of our now divided and suffering Country, to its former happy condition of unity and peace.

In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this thirtieth day of March, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty seventh.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

i just wanna gloat!

2005-05-25T22:07:00.000-07:00

I picked up my brother from the airport at 5:45 am- and didn't go back to sleep!

I found a livable apartment in a good location and got a really good deal on it!

I was told I have a beautiful smile

I saw my first pt ("carrying") client- BY MYSELF! and it was awesome- seamless- I felt so responsible

I got to talk to a little girl about Jesus...

.... that one was the best

and gave out 3 "I can Meet Jesus" books

I watched a super-cute wedding video

I taught two kids the short /e/ sound

I got out of work an hour early- thank God! They just took me off the schedule and put someone else with my kids so I could go to my sister's graduation! (I couldn't find someone to work for me, but I didn't even have to ask them to help me out tonight- how nice was that!)

I took Communion with gum in my mouth (I guess it was a little irreverent)

my sister graduated from 8th grade

I got a job lead for two kids who go to Park Tudor- one of whom is a 15-y-o girl who wears a blazer to school and an "I Love Bush" pin- yikes!

what a day!!!

i say i am a Christian

2005-05-24T23:25:00.000-07:00

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin."
I'm whispering "I was lost,"
Now I'm found and forgiven.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need CHRIST to be my guide.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
and need HIS strength to carry on.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
and need God to clean my mess.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible but,
God believes I am worth it.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain,
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.

When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I was just a simple sinner
who received God's good grace, somehow.

- Maya Angelou

(thanks, Tabby!)

i am grateful for:

2005-05-23T16:08:00.000-07:00

freedom of speech & religion, being able to go to the church I want and own / read my Bible

my friends and family

my new job, the fact that this place exists

that God provides!

grace

forgiveness

peace, in my heart

all of the wonderful beautiful people God has brought into my life especially in the past two years

what about you?