I am SO excited, people! God is going to do amazing things!!
You've all done so much for me already; now comes the most important part.
Pray, Pray, Pray without ceasing!!!! :-)
Thank you!!
Here's me explaining the trip and rambling for a bit. Thanks for listening, helping, and praying!! Love you all!
12.26.2008
12.20.2008
Peru!
Who can believe it!
On December 27th, which is exactly a week from today, I'll be getting on a plane with ten other people, only two of whom I've met before, to fly to Lima, Peru. From Lima, we'll travel two days to get to a village in the jungle where we will teach Bible stories to the natives so that they can in turn pass them down in their own language to their children and families, as there is not a translation of the Bible in their language.
Because I won't have any kind of internet or phone access, I can't keep you all updated in real time like I did in Ireland. However, I will take plenty of pictures and keep a journal, and when I come back, I'll post both. Please pray for our trip, for safety, and for good health, and most of all, for the people to whom we'll be giving God's Word.
I want to give you all flight information and our schedule so you can pray for specific needs of the day. :-)
Flight Info
Schedule
On December 27th, which is exactly a week from today, I'll be getting on a plane with ten other people, only two of whom I've met before, to fly to Lima, Peru. From Lima, we'll travel two days to get to a village in the jungle where we will teach Bible stories to the natives so that they can in turn pass them down in their own language to their children and families, as there is not a translation of the Bible in their language.
Because I won't have any kind of internet or phone access, I can't keep you all updated in real time like I did in Ireland. However, I will take plenty of pictures and keep a journal, and when I come back, I'll post both. Please pray for our trip, for safety, and for good health, and most of all, for the people to whom we'll be giving God's Word.
I want to give you all flight information and our schedule so you can pray for specific needs of the day. :-)
Flight Info
Date | From | To | Depart | Arrive | Flight # |
| 12/27 | Charlotte | Houston | 12:20pm | 2:20pm | Continental #2459 |
| 12/27 | Houston | Lima | 3:55pm | 11:26pm | Continental #590 |
| 1/8 | Lima | Houston | 12:40am | 6:12am | Continental #591 |
| 1/8 | Houston | Charlotte | 12:25pm | 3:50pm | Continental #1027 |
Schedule
Dec. 27 Arrive in Lima, stay at Hotel Santa Cruz
Dec. 28 Leave at 5 am to drive to Masamari, spend the night in Masamari (Note: this is my 21st Birthday!)
Dec. 29 Leave Masamari by taxi at six am to drive 2 hours to port, travel by boat 7 hours to Shevoja/Anapati
Dec. 30- Jan. 4 Teach storying in local villages in the jungle
Jan. 5 Travel by boat and taxi back to Masamari
Jan. 6 Drive back to Lima, spend the night at Hotel Santa Cruz
Jan. 7 Day in Lima, evening travel back to the US
_________________
Thanks in advance for your prayers, everyone!! :-) I will write extensively of the trip (with pictures included) when I get back!
Hill
12.07.2008
So Fortunate
At this moment, it is 12:05 AM. I'm sitting at a table in the library at my college, with books spread in front of me and an essay slowly forming. Said essay is due Monday at 4pm, and many pages remain to write, not to mention I have four exams to study for and a presentation for which to prepare. But because I stood in the road with a dear friend talking about the future, the pressure I felt lessened comfortably, and I can take a moment, surrounded with books and knowledge and a few tired and diligent students around me, to appreciate.
I am so fortunate that there are moments when I just want to cry from shame. What have I done to deserve such blessings? I look on my life, my conduct, my relationships, and often see what I should have done, what I did not do, where I failed. Yet my life is filled with love.
After a few hours of working and inevitably chatting at Starbucks, angling our laptops so we could easily share the small table, and occasionally sharing bemused laughs at Starbucks' choice for Christmas music, my friend and I walked slowly back to her car, laughing and telling stories. We reached her car--she was headed back to her house to do more studying, and I back to mine to pick up some notes on my way back to the library. Of course, we never just hug and say goodbye; instead, we find ourselves launched into a conversation about school, life, ourselves, our futures.
Somehow we ended up crafting this fantasy: one day, after she has been an artist and art scholar for a few years, and after I have taught high school English and (probably slowly) plodded away at a novel or two, the two of us will just call each other up, pack up, move, and open a coffee shop together. We'll make coffee, show art and host poetry readings, and go on pursuing the artistic dreams that seemed so impractical.
Whether or not that ever happens in the future is irrevelant, though I must say I love the idea. I found my throat closing slightly as we talked, knowing that the moment we were sharing, chatting and laughing on a street in Charleston, would be one I'd remember, not for what was said, but what was felt. I knew in that moment, that she was a friend I never wanted to lose, that God had planned for our paths for cross, that there were more important things than essays or exams.
And I thought to myself, God! Thank you! My cup overflows. I have had parents that encouraged my dreams, a brother who trusts me and would protect me, teachers that inspired me, friends that are as imperfect as I, struggling as I to be like Christ, teaching, encouraging, loving me as I never deserved. I have been blessed with peace that surpasses understanding, though sometimes I let it slip through my fingers, it inevitably comes back when I am utterly overwhelmed to reassure me that there is more to life than obligations or worries.
There are many nights when sleep eludes, when I wish for more than what I currently have. Namely, a companion; a man to challenge and affirm my faith, to comfort me, to pull from me the confessions I've offered no one but God and all the emotions I carefully guard, to hold me on rainy Sunday mornings, to encourage me, to need me in return.
But tonight will not be one of those nights, for tonight I stood on a street in Charleston under the stars, laughing and hugging a friend I love dearly, talking of God and art and friendship years down the road. It is because of moments like these that I know God has given me all I need and more.
I am so fortunate that there are moments when I just want to cry from shame. What have I done to deserve such blessings? I look on my life, my conduct, my relationships, and often see what I should have done, what I did not do, where I failed. Yet my life is filled with love.
After a few hours of working and inevitably chatting at Starbucks, angling our laptops so we could easily share the small table, and occasionally sharing bemused laughs at Starbucks' choice for Christmas music, my friend and I walked slowly back to her car, laughing and telling stories. We reached her car--she was headed back to her house to do more studying, and I back to mine to pick up some notes on my way back to the library. Of course, we never just hug and say goodbye; instead, we find ourselves launched into a conversation about school, life, ourselves, our futures.
Somehow we ended up crafting this fantasy: one day, after she has been an artist and art scholar for a few years, and after I have taught high school English and (probably slowly) plodded away at a novel or two, the two of us will just call each other up, pack up, move, and open a coffee shop together. We'll make coffee, show art and host poetry readings, and go on pursuing the artistic dreams that seemed so impractical.
Whether or not that ever happens in the future is irrevelant, though I must say I love the idea. I found my throat closing slightly as we talked, knowing that the moment we were sharing, chatting and laughing on a street in Charleston, would be one I'd remember, not for what was said, but what was felt. I knew in that moment, that she was a friend I never wanted to lose, that God had planned for our paths for cross, that there were more important things than essays or exams.
And I thought to myself, God! Thank you! My cup overflows. I have had parents that encouraged my dreams, a brother who trusts me and would protect me, teachers that inspired me, friends that are as imperfect as I, struggling as I to be like Christ, teaching, encouraging, loving me as I never deserved. I have been blessed with peace that surpasses understanding, though sometimes I let it slip through my fingers, it inevitably comes back when I am utterly overwhelmed to reassure me that there is more to life than obligations or worries.
There are many nights when sleep eludes, when I wish for more than what I currently have. Namely, a companion; a man to challenge and affirm my faith, to comfort me, to pull from me the confessions I've offered no one but God and all the emotions I carefully guard, to hold me on rainy Sunday mornings, to encourage me, to need me in return.
But tonight will not be one of those nights, for tonight I stood on a street in Charleston under the stars, laughing and hugging a friend I love dearly, talking of God and art and friendship years down the road. It is because of moments like these that I know God has given me all I need and more.
11.12.2008
No, There Wasn't Time
I'm decompressing a bit.
Last Friday, my truck's engine threw a rod, and I nearly lost control of the car. There was a moment, just a string of seconds basically, where when I looked into the rear view mirror, saw cars swerving to avoid me, saw smoke billowing from under the hood, pressed the gas pedal and tried to steer to no avail, gripping the wheel and seeing no exit ahead of me, that I thought--this is it. There was no time to think about it, no time for my life to flash before my eyes, no time for regrets or wishes, no rational string of words in my thought process, like "someone could hit me or the truck could catch fire"--none of that. There was just a guttural reaction--this could be it.
Seconds later, I saw an exit, pulled over, turned the car off, and jumped out. The smoke stopped. I felt the ground under my feet, and breathed. Then, I was swept up into the business of solving the problem--calling my parents, call a tow truck, trying to get to TGT (a girl's retreat I was supposed to work) on time.
I can't say I was afraid for my life, afraid to die. I didn't feel fear--there wasn't time. I was utterly involved in trying to steer, trying to get out of the way. I didn't feel any regrets, even though there are plenty of things left unsaid, even though I've never been in love, even though I've made mistakes and never apologized. I didn't wish for life, for more time with friends or family, because there was only the road, the cars, the gas pedal.
It wasn't until after we drove away, after I said goodbye to trusted friends at CLR, after I got back to school and swept up into the business of dealing with life--what car do I drive, where do I park, what was my homework, that those few seconds on the road caught up with me, that I had time to think.
I can't say I've radically changed how I live, or had life-altering conversations with people, or been transformed by the event. My life was never really in danger; I'm not hurt. But for the past few days, I have lived, even in my busy hectic life that keeps going whether I keep up with it or noI have lived-- and thought about it.
Last Friday, my truck's engine threw a rod, and I nearly lost control of the car. There was a moment, just a string of seconds basically, where when I looked into the rear view mirror, saw cars swerving to avoid me, saw smoke billowing from under the hood, pressed the gas pedal and tried to steer to no avail, gripping the wheel and seeing no exit ahead of me, that I thought--this is it. There was no time to think about it, no time for my life to flash before my eyes, no time for regrets or wishes, no rational string of words in my thought process, like "someone could hit me or the truck could catch fire"--none of that. There was just a guttural reaction--this could be it.
Seconds later, I saw an exit, pulled over, turned the car off, and jumped out. The smoke stopped. I felt the ground under my feet, and breathed. Then, I was swept up into the business of solving the problem--calling my parents, call a tow truck, trying to get to TGT (a girl's retreat I was supposed to work) on time.
I can't say I was afraid for my life, afraid to die. I didn't feel fear--there wasn't time. I was utterly involved in trying to steer, trying to get out of the way. I didn't feel any regrets, even though there are plenty of things left unsaid, even though I've never been in love, even though I've made mistakes and never apologized. I didn't wish for life, for more time with friends or family, because there was only the road, the cars, the gas pedal.
It wasn't until after we drove away, after I said goodbye to trusted friends at CLR, after I got back to school and swept up into the business of dealing with life--what car do I drive, where do I park, what was my homework, that those few seconds on the road caught up with me, that I had time to think.
I can't say I've radically changed how I live, or had life-altering conversations with people, or been transformed by the event. My life was never really in danger; I'm not hurt. But for the past few days, I have lived, even in my busy hectic life that keeps going whether I keep up with it or noI have lived-- and thought about it.
10.29.2008
Hillary of Troy
Once again, I find myself eager to share words from The Sacred Romance with you. In a chapter called "The Beloved," the authors Brent Curtis and John Eldredge elaborate on our role as the beloved of God, as matchless individuals whom God through the person of Jesus Christ has pursued no matter the cost.
These words, like many in the book, shook me to the core.
The gospel says that we, who are God's beloved, created a cosmic crisis. It says we, too, were stolen from our True Love and that he launched the greatest campaign in the history of the world to get it back. God created us for intimacy with him. When we turned our back on him he promised to come for us. He sent personal messengers; he used beauty and affliction to recapture our hearts. AFter all else failed, he conceived the most daring of plans. Under the cover of night, he stole into the enemy's camp incognito, the Ancient of Days disguised as a newborn. The Incarnation, as Phil Yancy reminds us, was a daring raid into enemy territory. The whole world lay under the power of the evil one and we were held in the dungeons of darkness. God risked it all to rescue us."
The authors use Helen of Troy as an example: "But whatever else she felt, as the center of an international crisis, Helen must have know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she mattered."
All of us, men and women of Earth, have been God's Helen, the beloved of Christ for whom he risked and gave everything to rescue. We matter.
These words, like many in the book, shook me to the core.
The gospel says that we, who are God's beloved, created a cosmic crisis. It says we, too, were stolen from our True Love and that he launched the greatest campaign in the history of the world to get it back. God created us for intimacy with him. When we turned our back on him he promised to come for us. He sent personal messengers; he used beauty and affliction to recapture our hearts. AFter all else failed, he conceived the most daring of plans. Under the cover of night, he stole into the enemy's camp incognito, the Ancient of Days disguised as a newborn. The Incarnation, as Phil Yancy reminds us, was a daring raid into enemy territory. The whole world lay under the power of the evil one and we were held in the dungeons of darkness. God risked it all to rescue us."
The authors use Helen of Troy as an example: "But whatever else she felt, as the center of an international crisis, Helen must have know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she mattered."
All of us, men and women of Earth, have been God's Helen, the beloved of Christ for whom he risked and gave everything to rescue. We matter.
10.21.2008
Peru
If you're reading these words, then you could be a vital part of a mission effort in Peru this Christmas. :-)
I am part of a 10ish member team who will be going to Peru after Christmas. The trip dates are from December 27th to January 7th. We're going (to quote the website I will give you below.)
to Peru after Christmas and work with the Ashaninka people group of central Peru! Short-term student volunteers are needed to teach Bible stories to the people group. Students will travel by bus and boat to the Ashaninka villages on the Tambo River. Six days will be spent on-site, sharing Bible stories. The Tambo River area is a beautiful jungle zone in Central Peru. Conditions will be primitive and you will sleep in tents.
My first request of you is to pray for the Ashaninka people. Next, for you to pray for the team, which so far consists of our leader, 5 guys, and 3 girls. We have one more spot open--pray for the person meant to fill this space--(and of course, contact me or go to the website if you think this is you.) Pray for us as a team to be stewards of our money and for God to provide funds--airfare to Lima is staggering at the moment. Pray for safety on the trip, and for the team to be unified and purposeful. And joyful! :-)
Also, I'd ask that you pray for my family and myself--they are a little miffed that I decided to go on this trip since the 28th of December is my birthday. ;-) Haha! I'm teasing, they are all very supportive. I am going to have to start fundraising because there is no way I can afford the plane ticket at the moment, but if I am a careful steward, I will not need much. :-) Obstacles--such as my debit card being cancelled due to fraudulent purchases--have arisen, but I find myself not nearly worried about the money as I might ought to be--I know this is where I am meant to go and that God will provide. :-)
You're prayers are invaluable from this point on! :-)
Hillary
PS: For more information, visit this page: http://www.scbcm.org/article152481.htm
I am part of a 10ish member team who will be going to Peru after Christmas. The trip dates are from December 27th to January 7th. We're going (to quote the website I will give you below.)
to Peru after Christmas and work with the Ashaninka people group of central Peru! Short-term student volunteers are needed to teach Bible stories to the people group. Students will travel by bus and boat to the Ashaninka villages on the Tambo River. Six days will be spent on-site, sharing Bible stories. The Tambo River area is a beautiful jungle zone in Central Peru. Conditions will be primitive and you will sleep in tents.
My first request of you is to pray for the Ashaninka people. Next, for you to pray for the team, which so far consists of our leader, 5 guys, and 3 girls. We have one more spot open--pray for the person meant to fill this space--(and of course, contact me or go to the website if you think this is you.) Pray for us as a team to be stewards of our money and for God to provide funds--airfare to Lima is staggering at the moment. Pray for safety on the trip, and for the team to be unified and purposeful. And joyful! :-)
Also, I'd ask that you pray for my family and myself--they are a little miffed that I decided to go on this trip since the 28th of December is my birthday. ;-) Haha! I'm teasing, they are all very supportive. I am going to have to start fundraising because there is no way I can afford the plane ticket at the moment, but if I am a careful steward, I will not need much. :-) Obstacles--such as my debit card being cancelled due to fraudulent purchases--have arisen, but I find myself not nearly worried about the money as I might ought to be--I know this is where I am meant to go and that God will provide. :-)
You're prayers are invaluable from this point on! :-)
Hillary
PS: For more information, visit this page: http://www.scbcm.org/article152481.htm
10.01.2008
Self-Realization
Can I recommend The Sacred Romance in every post? This book is working wonders on my life.
In this past chapter, the writers explain that difficult experiences in our childhood sometimes cause us to make vows. Sometimes this still occurs when trials come even in adolescence or adulthood--something happens that hurts us, and we make a vow that does much more harm than good.
In the process of reading TSR and preparing for BCM small group, I realized that I had made one of these impulsive vows after being hurt. And though my experience was not traumatic in the traditional sense (death, sickness, injury, break-up), it still rocked my world and incited a vow that I renounced Monday night.
Long story short (this story is familiar to many of my friends and family)-- I applied to an Arts high school to study writing. I was sure I would get in, I planned my entire life around it, and invested my heart in this dream for most of a year. I based all my plans for the future (and I am a notorious planner) on graduating from this school. I felt my one talent in the world was being able to put words together in a nice order, and I was fine with that. It defined me, and this dream was my life.
As you could guess, I didn't get in. And when I found out, I basically lost it. I think that is the only time in my life where I could say that I "wept." I was inconsolable. Not just because I didn't get into a school, but because my entire plan for the future, my confidence, my dream, and even as far as my identity as a writer, were shattered.
On top of this, so many people close to me saw me in this state of hysterical crying that I was completely humiliated afterwards. Irrational, certainly, but true. I felt like I had completely over-reacted; despite how much I hurt, I was embarrassed.
Only in retrospect--four years later--can I make sense of it. I made a vow, at 16, never to want something with all my heart ever again. I also vowed never to let people see me cry. I trained myself to always contain my emotions, and I trained myself to keep my ambitions and desires to moderation.
Due to that experience, I find it very hard to be vulnerable with people; even those closest to me. But I'm not a bottler--I just wait until I'm alone. And I'll talk intimately with people--it just takes time for me to trust. And I don't cry. Something has to very wrong for me to cry openly. Keep that in mind. ;-)
However, the consequences of that vow aren't necessarily all bad-- I'm a calm person, and I'm always laid-back. That's not forced or fake--it's who I've become. :-) I did learn that things aren't as big as they seem to be, and that is a wonderful lesson that I've taken from that experience.
And it's not necessarily bad that I decided never to want something that much ever again. I put my dream to go to that school above my desire for God. The rejection gave me perspective that has served me well in the past four years. I am grateful to have realized at that age that I shouldn't desire anything as much as I desire to know Jesus and to follow Him. I don't think I ever asked God if it was His will back in the day. I wanted it so much, that I figured He'd give it to me.
Even if some of the better parts of my personality grew out of this experience, I prayed that Christ would help me let go of that vow. This doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to turn on the waterworks-- I am working on letting my heart desire freely and working on being vulnerable to people sooner, especially as a small group leader. I can't expect my friends to open up to me when I am holding back. :-) I've definitely made some killer progress. ;-)
God is so good. In moments when joy threatens to burst and my face is sore from smiling, God is good, and in moments with despair crushes and brings me to my knees and my face hits the floor, God is still good. He loves.
In this past chapter, the writers explain that difficult experiences in our childhood sometimes cause us to make vows. Sometimes this still occurs when trials come even in adolescence or adulthood--something happens that hurts us, and we make a vow that does much more harm than good.
In the process of reading TSR and preparing for BCM small group, I realized that I had made one of these impulsive vows after being hurt. And though my experience was not traumatic in the traditional sense (death, sickness, injury, break-up), it still rocked my world and incited a vow that I renounced Monday night.
Long story short (this story is familiar to many of my friends and family)-- I applied to an Arts high school to study writing. I was sure I would get in, I planned my entire life around it, and invested my heart in this dream for most of a year. I based all my plans for the future (and I am a notorious planner) on graduating from this school. I felt my one talent in the world was being able to put words together in a nice order, and I was fine with that. It defined me, and this dream was my life.
As you could guess, I didn't get in. And when I found out, I basically lost it. I think that is the only time in my life where I could say that I "wept." I was inconsolable. Not just because I didn't get into a school, but because my entire plan for the future, my confidence, my dream, and even as far as my identity as a writer, were shattered.
On top of this, so many people close to me saw me in this state of hysterical crying that I was completely humiliated afterwards. Irrational, certainly, but true. I felt like I had completely over-reacted; despite how much I hurt, I was embarrassed.
Only in retrospect--four years later--can I make sense of it. I made a vow, at 16, never to want something with all my heart ever again. I also vowed never to let people see me cry. I trained myself to always contain my emotions, and I trained myself to keep my ambitions and desires to moderation.
Due to that experience, I find it very hard to be vulnerable with people; even those closest to me. But I'm not a bottler--I just wait until I'm alone. And I'll talk intimately with people--it just takes time for me to trust. And I don't cry. Something has to very wrong for me to cry openly. Keep that in mind. ;-)
However, the consequences of that vow aren't necessarily all bad-- I'm a calm person, and I'm always laid-back. That's not forced or fake--it's who I've become. :-) I did learn that things aren't as big as they seem to be, and that is a wonderful lesson that I've taken from that experience.
And it's not necessarily bad that I decided never to want something that much ever again. I put my dream to go to that school above my desire for God. The rejection gave me perspective that has served me well in the past four years. I am grateful to have realized at that age that I shouldn't desire anything as much as I desire to know Jesus and to follow Him. I don't think I ever asked God if it was His will back in the day. I wanted it so much, that I figured He'd give it to me.
Even if some of the better parts of my personality grew out of this experience, I prayed that Christ would help me let go of that vow. This doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to turn on the waterworks-- I am working on letting my heart desire freely and working on being vulnerable to people sooner, especially as a small group leader. I can't expect my friends to open up to me when I am holding back. :-) I've definitely made some killer progress. ;-)
God is so good. In moments when joy threatens to burst and my face is sore from smiling, God is good, and in moments with despair crushes and brings me to my knees and my face hits the floor, God is still good. He loves.
9.26.2008
Under the Stars
I remember one night, years ago, when my best friend Amy invited me over to her house to watch a meteor shower. We were kids, then--maybe early middle school or younger. We got blankets--not because it was cold, though. We stretched the blankets out on the driveway and reclined on our backs, hands behind our heads to watch the sky.
I remember it wasn't too cold to be lying on a driveway, but the breeze was cool enough that my friend and I huddled tight. Falling stars, one after the other, spilled over the sky. Crickets chirped, and wishes were made. Each star we saw shoot across the sky got its own wish, and we talked about our wishes. Sometimes in vague terms, since wishes are supposed to be secret, but other times, we figured that we were like sisters and close enough not to worry about that superstition.
I remember feeling small, but not suffocated or lost--no, small and amazed with the wonder of the vast creation surrounding me, my best friend, and her driveway.
Even if I don't recall how many falling stars I counted, or how old I was, or which wishes I made, or what Amy and I talked about, the emotional impressions of this memory is one of the strongest of my childhood, and it was one of my favorite moments.
Why? What was it about lying on my friend's driveway watching a meteor shower that affected me so deeply?
In The Sacred Romance, a book I'm using in a Bible study, the authors asked us to recall a favorite memory, like the one I outlined above, and really think about why we value it so much.
For me, I know that many of my favorite memories involve Amy--we are sisters in every sense of the word except blood, and she's one of the most important people in my life. In that moment, staring up at falling stars next to her on the ground, I felt connected to her. This memory is one of intimacy, which I tend to value. These moments--with anyone--are rare. We all have somewhere to be, our own troubles, but on scare moments--we connect.
Also, this was a moment where I saw beauty--falling stars on a cloudless night. Singing crickets, moonlight, cool wind. I saw beauty, and I caught a glimpse of the immensity of creation. I felt, even at such a young age, that God was speaking to me through the beauty of nature.
I hadn't planned to tell that story in Bible study, nor had I planned to offer the analogy that escaped my lips--and those are the best moments as a Bible study leader--moments when you know that your words are not your own.
God uses moments like this, watching the stars on the driveway with your best friend, to call to us. To pull on our hearts to an unknown romancing, to quote the book.
Jesus is the God of falling stars, but He also wants to be next to us on the driveway, listening to our wishes.
I remember it wasn't too cold to be lying on a driveway, but the breeze was cool enough that my friend and I huddled tight. Falling stars, one after the other, spilled over the sky. Crickets chirped, and wishes were made. Each star we saw shoot across the sky got its own wish, and we talked about our wishes. Sometimes in vague terms, since wishes are supposed to be secret, but other times, we figured that we were like sisters and close enough not to worry about that superstition.
I remember feeling small, but not suffocated or lost--no, small and amazed with the wonder of the vast creation surrounding me, my best friend, and her driveway.
Even if I don't recall how many falling stars I counted, or how old I was, or which wishes I made, or what Amy and I talked about, the emotional impressions of this memory is one of the strongest of my childhood, and it was one of my favorite moments.
Why? What was it about lying on my friend's driveway watching a meteor shower that affected me so deeply?
In The Sacred Romance, a book I'm using in a Bible study, the authors asked us to recall a favorite memory, like the one I outlined above, and really think about why we value it so much.
For me, I know that many of my favorite memories involve Amy--we are sisters in every sense of the word except blood, and she's one of the most important people in my life. In that moment, staring up at falling stars next to her on the ground, I felt connected to her. This memory is one of intimacy, which I tend to value. These moments--with anyone--are rare. We all have somewhere to be, our own troubles, but on scare moments--we connect.
Also, this was a moment where I saw beauty--falling stars on a cloudless night. Singing crickets, moonlight, cool wind. I saw beauty, and I caught a glimpse of the immensity of creation. I felt, even at such a young age, that God was speaking to me through the beauty of nature.
I hadn't planned to tell that story in Bible study, nor had I planned to offer the analogy that escaped my lips--and those are the best moments as a Bible study leader--moments when you know that your words are not your own.
God uses moments like this, watching the stars on the driveway with your best friend, to call to us. To pull on our hearts to an unknown romancing, to quote the book.
Jesus is the God of falling stars, but He also wants to be next to us on the driveway, listening to our wishes.
9.24.2008
prayer psalm
Psalm 69
For the director of music. To the tune of "Lilies." Of David.
1 Save me, O God,for the waters have come up to my neck.
2 I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods engulf me.
3 I am worn out calling for help;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
looking for my God.
4 Those who hate me without reason
outnumber the hairs of my head;
many are my enemies without cause,
those who seek to destroy me.
I am forced to restore
what I did not steal.
5 You know my folly, O God;
my guilt is not hidden from you.
6 May those who hope in you
not be disgraced because of me,
O Lord, the LORD Almighty;
may those who seek you
not be put to shame because of me,
O God of Israel.
7 For I endure scorn for your sake,
and shame covers my face.
8 I am a stranger to my brothers,
an alien to my own mother's sons;
9 for zeal for your house consumes me,
and the insults of those who insult you fall on me.
10 When I weep and fast,
I must endure scorn;
11 when I put on sackcloth,
people make sport of me.
12 Those who sit at the gate mock me,
and I am the song of the drunkards.
13 But I pray to you, O LORD,
in the time of your favor;
in your great love, O God,
answer me with your sure salvation.
14 Rescue me from the mire,
do not let me sink;
deliver me from those who hate me,
from the deep waters.
15 Do not let the floodwaters engulf me
or the depths swallow me up
or the pit close its mouth over me.
16 Answer me, O LORD, out of the goodness of your love;
in your great mercy turn to me.
17 Do not hide your face from your servant;
answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.
18 Come near and rescue me;
redeem me because of my foes.
19 You know how I am scorned, disgraced and shamed;
all my enemies are before you.
20 Scorn has broken my heart
and has left me helpless;
I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
for comforters, but I found none.
21 They put gall in my food
and gave me vinegar for my thirst.
22 May the table set before them become a snare;
may it become retribution and [a] a trap.
23 May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see,
and their backs be bent forever.
24 Pour out your wrath on them;
let your fierce anger overtake them.
25 May their place be deserted;
let there be no one to dwell in their tents.
26 For they persecute those you wound
and talk about the pain of those you hurt.
27 Charge them with crime upon crime;
do not let them share in your salvation.
28 May they be blotted out of the book of life
and not be listed with the righteous.
29 I am in pain and distress;
may your salvation, O God, protect me.
30 I will praise God's name in song
and glorify him with thanksgiving.
31 This will please the LORD more than an ox,
more than a bull with its horns and hoofs.
32 The poor will see and be glad—
you who seek God, may your hearts live!
33 The LORD hears the needy
and does not despise his captive people.
34 Let heaven and earth praise him,
the seas and all that move in them,
35 for God will save Zion
and rebuild the cities of Judah.
Then people will settle there and possess it;
36 the children of his servants will inherit it,
and those who love his name will dwell there.
9.11.2008
seven years
I.
seven years, and I'm still 13
suffocating and bearing the guilt
of paralyzing grief, stolen from real victims
on the planes, on their phones,
praying and crying and fighting
in their offices, working and running
and jumping
in their uniforms, serving and
pulling and digging
and dying
What trauma can I claim
on the opposite end of the coast
with my family around me
with a TV screen and many miles
separating me
from the fire and the smoke
my tears are insult to theirs.
my trembling lip, just a muscle spasm
for I and mine live.
II.
seven years, I'm 13 again.
mourning for strangers and strangers' lovers
throat closing at half-raised flags
and the sound of prayer. feeling
smaller hands clutching the foot
of the cross again, children
tears falling on trembling arms
again, crushed on all sides
by realism and other church
members, clinging, singing,
eyes still stinging with
the grief that shames.
III.
7 years ago, I used to be 13,
aged and ideals deflowered,
eyes following the plane, the two crumbling walls,
hypnotized by flame,
flooding, shutting.
before my cousin was a fireman
they pulled him out of the rubble.
before my brother was a soldier,
he watched and no one gave him orders.
before I was ever on a plane,
I saw the ground coming at my face.
hands reach across the aisle in Washington,
hymns echo.
IV.
seven years, but I'll be thirteen somedays,
at least once a year.
grief real, not caught or imagined,
not wrong but rightly, mourning--
the assaulted skyline morning, mourning--
lost and lonely lives, mourning--
declaration of war, mourning--
ideals buried at Ground Zero, mourning--
fake patriotism and decorative flags, mourning--
fear, conspiracy, blame-throwing, mourning--
accusing God, lost faith, mourning
the way it used to be
before I was thirteen.
seven years, and I'm still 13
suffocating and bearing the guilt
of paralyzing grief, stolen from real victims
on the planes, on their phones,
praying and crying and fighting
in their offices, working and running
and jumping
in their uniforms, serving and
pulling and digging
and dying
What trauma can I claim
on the opposite end of the coast
with my family around me
with a TV screen and many miles
separating me
from the fire and the smoke
my tears are insult to theirs.
my trembling lip, just a muscle spasm
for I and mine live.
II.
seven years, I'm 13 again.
mourning for strangers and strangers' lovers
throat closing at half-raised flags
and the sound of prayer. feeling
smaller hands clutching the foot
of the cross again, children
tears falling on trembling arms
again, crushed on all sides
by realism and other church
members, clinging, singing,
eyes still stinging with
the grief that shames.
III.
7 years ago, I used to be 13,
aged and ideals deflowered,
eyes following the plane, the two crumbling walls,
hypnotized by flame,
flooding, shutting.
before my cousin was a fireman
they pulled him out of the rubble.
before my brother was a soldier,
he watched and no one gave him orders.
before I was ever on a plane,
I saw the ground coming at my face.
hands reach across the aisle in Washington,
hymns echo.
IV.
seven years, but I'll be thirteen somedays,
at least once a year.
grief real, not caught or imagined,
not wrong but rightly, mourning--
the assaulted skyline morning, mourning--
lost and lonely lives, mourning--
declaration of war, mourning--
ideals buried at Ground Zero, mourning--
fake patriotism and decorative flags, mourning--
fear, conspiracy, blame-throwing, mourning--
accusing God, lost faith, mourning
the way it used to be
before I was thirteen.
9.08.2008
A New Favorite Song
We sang this in church yesterday, and each word shook me to the core. I feel like the lyrics echo every aspect of my life.
Yet thought I knew the way
The sin that promised joy and life
Had led me to the grave
I had no hope that You would own
A rebel to Your will
And if You had not loved me first
I would refuse You still
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
But as I ran my hell-bound race
Indifferent to the cost
You looked upon my helpless state
And led me to the cross
And I beheld God’s love displayed
You suffered in my place
You bore the wrath reserved for me
Now all I know is grace
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone
And live so all might see
The strength to follow Your commands
Could never come from me
Oh Father, use my ransomed life
In any way You choose
And let my song forever be
My only boast is You
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
All I Have Is Christ
I once was lost in darkest nightYet thought I knew the way
The sin that promised joy and life
Had led me to the grave
I had no hope that You would own
A rebel to Your will
And if You had not loved me first
I would refuse You still
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
But as I ran my hell-bound race
Indifferent to the cost
You looked upon my helpless state
And led me to the cross
And I beheld God’s love displayed
You suffered in my place
You bore the wrath reserved for me
Now all I know is grace
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone
And live so all might see
The strength to follow Your commands
Could never come from me
Oh Father, use my ransomed life
In any way You choose
And let my song forever be
My only boast is You
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
9.01.2008
Morning
8 Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul. (Psalm 143:8)
______________________________________
I'm reading The Sacred Romance and preparing to teach it in the coming weeks. It's a right-brained sort of book--somewhat abstract, tuned into emotions. The writers want us to get back in touch with our own hearts so that we can in turn draw closer to the heart of God.
The writers, John Eldredge and Brent Curtis, suggest that our hearts are most accessible in the early morning or late at night. Not to say our innermost feelings are not reachable during the day, but there are times when we wake up in the middle of the night with racing thoughts, or times in the morning when we are particularly thoughtful.
David, in the above verse, seems to agree. He asks, "Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love."
I've always resisted spending time in the Word in the early morning. I forget so often when I try to do it in the morning--the to-do list of the day is already writing itself in my mind. At night, I'm usually still trying to finish said list.
But as I sit in the dark in my room here at school, hymns and praise in my headphones, and a keyboard under my fingertips, I can't think of a better way to start the day.
I want David's prayer to be mine. "Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul."
_______
Be near, O God, be near, O God of us,
your nearness is to us our good... (Shane and Shane)
Good morning.
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul. (Psalm 143:8)
______________________________________
I'm reading The Sacred Romance and preparing to teach it in the coming weeks. It's a right-brained sort of book--somewhat abstract, tuned into emotions. The writers want us to get back in touch with our own hearts so that we can in turn draw closer to the heart of God.
The writers, John Eldredge and Brent Curtis, suggest that our hearts are most accessible in the early morning or late at night. Not to say our innermost feelings are not reachable during the day, but there are times when we wake up in the middle of the night with racing thoughts, or times in the morning when we are particularly thoughtful.
David, in the above verse, seems to agree. He asks, "Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love."
I've always resisted spending time in the Word in the early morning. I forget so often when I try to do it in the morning--the to-do list of the day is already writing itself in my mind. At night, I'm usually still trying to finish said list.
But as I sit in the dark in my room here at school, hymns and praise in my headphones, and a keyboard under my fingertips, I can't think of a better way to start the day.
I want David's prayer to be mine. "Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul."
_______
Be near, O God, be near, O God of us,
your nearness is to us our good... (Shane and Shane)
Good morning.
7.27.2008
The Sacred Romance
I've been on the look out all summer for a book to share with my BCM community group--the group will be all girls, primarily freshman. I looked at several "just for women" studies but they tended to be either aimed at married women or younger girls. And even then, the primary object in many of these books seemed to be marriage--dealing with it if you are married or finding the right man and being content in the meantime if you aren't. For obvious reasons, books of this kind did not appeal to me. A) I'm not married, and B) I don't want to sit around every Wednesday with these girls and mope about being single or listen to them mope about being single, should they be so.
So many books for Christian women, young and old alike, seem to be focused on marriage. How to love God while single or how to be a godly wife, etc etc. Sure, many of us have "Get married" pretty darn near the top of our list of life goals, but my relationship with Christ shouldn't have to depend upon my marital status. I found myself getting frustrated with so many of the books, because there is more to growing as a young Christian woman than getting married. It takes the focus off God and puts it on Mr. Right or becoming Miss Right, and I'm not cool with that. And at this point in my life, I'm neither ready nor interested in getting married, so all of those studies, however acclaimed some may be, were difficult for me to relate to. I imagine the same could be said for the college freshmen girls taking on the study with me.
Yesterday, I found myself with an open Saturday with little to do but write a paper for my summer course. Needlessly to say, that option was less than appealing, so I found myself going to the one place I go most often when alone and bored: Barnes and Noble. :-)
Finding a book for my community group was still high on my to-do list, so I found myself in the Christian section of the store.
(Can I digress for a moment? Why is it that every single book labeled Christian Fiction has a faded woman on the cover, looking wistfully off into the distance? Or a faded, unsmiling man staring hard at the reader? What are they all looking at? Despite the fact that a handful of books labeled Religious Fiction are superb, the corny titles and melodramatic cover art are not doing this genre any favors. And I can say this because I have read a good deal of religious fiction. Some of it is not to be taken seriously--some are just Mary Higgins Clark with clean language, less blood, no sex, and a conversion at the end. I know, I've read plenty of them. ;-) However, hidden among these such books are a few true gems: three of the best books I have ever read, in fact. France Rivers' Mark of the Lion Trilogy. Absolutely breathtaking. I highly recommend those.)
Well, as in real life, this blog entry finds me distracted by fiction in search of inspiration. ;-)
After a brief stroll through various aisles of fiction, I found myself in the Christian Inspiration section--Barnes and Noble's name for theological books, devotional journals, Bible study guides, etc. After picking up dozens of books, I stumbled upon one labeled The Sacred Romance.
The title itself was enough to catch my subdued interest; I snagged it, and carried it over to a table at the cafe to scan while I munched on a pastry and sipped iced black tea.
The first sentence was relentless, and my attention was secured:
Some years into our spiritual journey, after the waves of anticipation that mark the beginning of any pilgrimage have begun to ebb into life's middle years of service and busyness, a voice speaks to us in the midst of all we are doing.
(Now, I may not be in my middle years yet, but I know all about anticipation fading into service and busyness.)
There is something missing in all of this, it suggests. There is something more.
After reading these words, I felt a stab of guilt. Despite the way I unconsciously nodded my head in agreement, I felt like I'd been punched. Here it is, in black and white, the struggle of my entire Christian life. Ten years, I've been a Christian, and I've been telling myself to stop whining and be content for most of it. But here, in black and white, someone had verbalized my struggle.
Later on the first page, the authors basically slap me in the face.
We listen and we are aware of... a sigh. And under the sigh is something dangerous, something that feels adulterous and disloyal to the religion we are serving. We sense a passion deep within that threatens a total disregard for the program we are living; it feels reckless, wild.
By now, my heart is pounding against my ribcage and all the blurred chatter and general noise of the coffee shop has faded away; all of my senses are focused on the words on the pages. The first chapter flew by, and I found myself back in the aisle, searching for the companion journal and workbook to The Sacred Romance, finding myself reading through it, and I stumbled across a prayer that nearly brought tears to my eyes.
O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. O God, the triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made thirsty still. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. (A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God.)
This book is not written only for men or only for women. It isn't written for those who still haven't found earthly romance, or as quick, surface level study to fill up an obligation to a quiet time or weekly Bible study. And this appealed to me. The first chapter of the book had my heart pounding and my knuckles white, and the companion pages of the journal were raw and meaningful. This is is, this is what I want for myself and for my girls, most of whom will have come from Christian homes and established walks with Christ. I want to "draw closer to the heart of God" as the subtitle of the book says. I want to pull them together for a journey that we take both together and individually. Page ten says this:
It is possible to recover the lost life of our heart and with it the intimacy, beauty, and adventure of life with God. To do so, we must leave what is familiar and comfortable--perhaps even parts of the religion which we have come to trust--and take a journey."
Bring it on, book. Me and my girls are ready.
So many books for Christian women, young and old alike, seem to be focused on marriage. How to love God while single or how to be a godly wife, etc etc. Sure, many of us have "Get married" pretty darn near the top of our list of life goals, but my relationship with Christ shouldn't have to depend upon my marital status. I found myself getting frustrated with so many of the books, because there is more to growing as a young Christian woman than getting married. It takes the focus off God and puts it on Mr. Right or becoming Miss Right, and I'm not cool with that. And at this point in my life, I'm neither ready nor interested in getting married, so all of those studies, however acclaimed some may be, were difficult for me to relate to. I imagine the same could be said for the college freshmen girls taking on the study with me.
Yesterday, I found myself with an open Saturday with little to do but write a paper for my summer course. Needlessly to say, that option was less than appealing, so I found myself going to the one place I go most often when alone and bored: Barnes and Noble. :-)
Finding a book for my community group was still high on my to-do list, so I found myself in the Christian section of the store.
(Can I digress for a moment? Why is it that every single book labeled Christian Fiction has a faded woman on the cover, looking wistfully off into the distance? Or a faded, unsmiling man staring hard at the reader? What are they all looking at? Despite the fact that a handful of books labeled Religious Fiction are superb, the corny titles and melodramatic cover art are not doing this genre any favors. And I can say this because I have read a good deal of religious fiction. Some of it is not to be taken seriously--some are just Mary Higgins Clark with clean language, less blood, no sex, and a conversion at the end. I know, I've read plenty of them. ;-) However, hidden among these such books are a few true gems: three of the best books I have ever read, in fact. France Rivers' Mark of the Lion Trilogy. Absolutely breathtaking. I highly recommend those.)
Well, as in real life, this blog entry finds me distracted by fiction in search of inspiration. ;-)
After a brief stroll through various aisles of fiction, I found myself in the Christian Inspiration section--Barnes and Noble's name for theological books, devotional journals, Bible study guides, etc. After picking up dozens of books, I stumbled upon one labeled The Sacred Romance.
The title itself was enough to catch my subdued interest; I snagged it, and carried it over to a table at the cafe to scan while I munched on a pastry and sipped iced black tea.The first sentence was relentless, and my attention was secured:
Some years into our spiritual journey, after the waves of anticipation that mark the beginning of any pilgrimage have begun to ebb into life's middle years of service and busyness, a voice speaks to us in the midst of all we are doing.
(Now, I may not be in my middle years yet, but I know all about anticipation fading into service and busyness.)
There is something missing in all of this, it suggests. There is something more.
After reading these words, I felt a stab of guilt. Despite the way I unconsciously nodded my head in agreement, I felt like I'd been punched. Here it is, in black and white, the struggle of my entire Christian life. Ten years, I've been a Christian, and I've been telling myself to stop whining and be content for most of it. But here, in black and white, someone had verbalized my struggle.
Later on the first page, the authors basically slap me in the face.
We listen and we are aware of... a sigh. And under the sigh is something dangerous, something that feels adulterous and disloyal to the religion we are serving. We sense a passion deep within that threatens a total disregard for the program we are living; it feels reckless, wild.
By now, my heart is pounding against my ribcage and all the blurred chatter and general noise of the coffee shop has faded away; all of my senses are focused on the words on the pages. The first chapter flew by, and I found myself back in the aisle, searching for the companion journal and workbook to The Sacred Romance, finding myself reading through it, and I stumbled across a prayer that nearly brought tears to my eyes.
O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. O God, the triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made thirsty still. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. (A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God.)
This book is not written only for men or only for women. It isn't written for those who still haven't found earthly romance, or as quick, surface level study to fill up an obligation to a quiet time or weekly Bible study. And this appealed to me. The first chapter of the book had my heart pounding and my knuckles white, and the companion pages of the journal were raw and meaningful. This is is, this is what I want for myself and for my girls, most of whom will have come from Christian homes and established walks with Christ. I want to "draw closer to the heart of God" as the subtitle of the book says. I want to pull them together for a journey that we take both together and individually. Page ten says this:
It is possible to recover the lost life of our heart and with it the intimacy, beauty, and adventure of life with God. To do so, we must leave what is familiar and comfortable--perhaps even parts of the religion which we have come to trust--and take a journey."
Bring it on, book. Me and my girls are ready.
7.18.2008
Confessions
Sometimes I sit down at my computer and stare at this empty text box, so full of words but with so little to say. I want to take the pieces of poetry or narrative or reflection and place them together to form a stunning picture,
to take your breath away
make you laugh,
or cry,
or imagine.
Or pray.
But like a jigsaw puzzle, that picture can never be rid of the lines that mark its division. Always imperfect, never whole, even after the last patterns are matched and the final hole is filled.
I want to write about my life as a young woman who is confident and mature and aware. But the truth is that sometimes, my doubt stifles me. Even an optimist can have nails worn down to the quick, or nights when sleep can never quite catch up with concern. The truth is that sometimes, I am immature in the worst of ways. I can pout, I can whine, I can think only of myself. The truth is that sometimes I am horrifically unobservant, insensitive to the pain of others; sometimes God escapes my notice.
In Galations, Paul writes this message: "Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not "mine," but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that." Galations 2:20, The Message.
What a relief! I feel like Paul took those words right out my head; and seeing it in the Message translation rather than the NIV I've read most of my life really made the words click with me. I don't have to worry about trying so hard to impress God or the church; the truth of my life is simple: faith in the Son of God. My daily struggle isn't about me, but about Him, who loved me and gave himself for me.
I wrote the beginning of this entry last week, but couldn't finish it. I had so much I wanted to say, but I didn't know how to put it into words. And when I write, I always push myself to be eloquent, like what I have to say isn't worthwhile if I say it simply. But like Paul, I don't have to be driven to impress God with fancy words (which He gave me the ability to put together!) . And believe me, it is such a relief.
to take your breath away
make you laugh,
or cry,
or imagine.
Or pray.
But like a jigsaw puzzle, that picture can never be rid of the lines that mark its division. Always imperfect, never whole, even after the last patterns are matched and the final hole is filled.
I want to write about my life as a young woman who is confident and mature and aware. But the truth is that sometimes, my doubt stifles me. Even an optimist can have nails worn down to the quick, or nights when sleep can never quite catch up with concern. The truth is that sometimes, I am immature in the worst of ways. I can pout, I can whine, I can think only of myself. The truth is that sometimes I am horrifically unobservant, insensitive to the pain of others; sometimes God escapes my notice.
In Galations, Paul writes this message: "Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not "mine," but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that." Galations 2:20, The Message.
What a relief! I feel like Paul took those words right out my head; and seeing it in the Message translation rather than the NIV I've read most of my life really made the words click with me. I don't have to worry about trying so hard to impress God or the church; the truth of my life is simple: faith in the Son of God. My daily struggle isn't about me, but about Him, who loved me and gave himself for me.
I wrote the beginning of this entry last week, but couldn't finish it. I had so much I wanted to say, but I didn't know how to put it into words. And when I write, I always push myself to be eloquent, like what I have to say isn't worthwhile if I say it simply. But like Paul, I don't have to be driven to impress God with fancy words (which He gave me the ability to put together!) . And believe me, it is such a relief.
7.09.2008
Changing a Cliche
You know the old saying, "You don't know what you have until it's gone?" and all its variants in song and poetry, etc? I'm not so sure that I believe that entirely. My experience lately has been you don't know what you have until you lose it THEN get it back again!
I can think of so many examples. Just a few moments ago, I was having a video chat with a bunch of staffers from camp, and it just hit me in that moment how much I loved them and missed them and longed to work at camp again. I don't go through my days thinking of how much I miss everyone-- I work, I study, I keep living. But when I see them again on my screen, hear their voices, visit them and feel the excitement of life on a Christian camp, I really realize what I have, not because I've lost it, but because I've found it again.
The same with a good friend of mine who studied in France for a semester. I went months and months without seeing or hearing from her. Of course I missed her, but I wasn't crippled by it and it didn't consume me, but the past two days of being with her, I've realized just how much I value her friendship and how much I was really missing when she was gone.
The same goes, I think, for the joy of our salvation in Christ. We can stray from the straight and narrow, or grow apathetic and distant from God, and while it's happening, sure we realize what's going on, we absently miss what we had with Jesus, but it isn't until we collapse at the foot of the Cross, utterly convicted and despairing and feel His always loving presence embrace us again that we truly realize what we've been missing yet had along.
I can think of so many examples. Just a few moments ago, I was having a video chat with a bunch of staffers from camp, and it just hit me in that moment how much I loved them and missed them and longed to work at camp again. I don't go through my days thinking of how much I miss everyone-- I work, I study, I keep living. But when I see them again on my screen, hear their voices, visit them and feel the excitement of life on a Christian camp, I really realize what I have, not because I've lost it, but because I've found it again.
The same with a good friend of mine who studied in France for a semester. I went months and months without seeing or hearing from her. Of course I missed her, but I wasn't crippled by it and it didn't consume me, but the past two days of being with her, I've realized just how much I value her friendship and how much I was really missing when she was gone.
The same goes, I think, for the joy of our salvation in Christ. We can stray from the straight and narrow, or grow apathetic and distant from God, and while it's happening, sure we realize what's going on, we absently miss what we had with Jesus, but it isn't until we collapse at the foot of the Cross, utterly convicted and despairing and feel His always loving presence embrace us again that we truly realize what we've been missing yet had along.
6.19.2008
Summer of Lewis
The night I was on a plane over the Atlantic, Prince Caspian premiered in America. For four weeks, I probably didn't go more than a day or two without mentioning how much I wanted to see it. Every now and then I would check surfthechannel.com or tv-links.cc to see if it was available--it was each time--but I knew I would never watch it bootleg on a scratchy internet connection.
Though I didn't even take myself seriously half the times I said that Prince Caspian was number 1 on my to-do list for when I got back to the States, I did go see it the day after I got back. Not even a full 24 hours had passed since I landed in Columbia to when I bought my ticket! There were a few major changes, one subplot in particular, from the book to the film. I vaguely expected to be annoyed, even angered by the changes from the book I loved so much, but I was utterly swept away by the movie. I knew the new subplot (nope, I won't be writing any spoilers) and other changes had not been taken lightly by the actors or the crew, and they were changes I understood. I am intrigued to see how the changes Disney and Walden made to Prince Caspian will affect the next movie they plan: Voyage of the Dawn-Treader.
I just finished the Dawn-Treader today-- I loved it, of course. I read the Narnia books as a child in a haphazard order with little attention to more than the plot, and certainly without the critical eye (in the literary sense) that I have today, nor an appreciation for the religious symbolism and allegory. So I have been rereading the series from beginning to end this summer. I even reread the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which is the one I've read so many times since childhood. In Ireland, I read The Horse and His Boy, and reread Prince Caspian.
Next is the Silver Chair, of which I remember very little from my childhood reading. Though Eustace isn't my favorite character, I did grow fond of him after finishing Dawn-Treader. I'm excited to revisit his story and meet Jill again.
I'm wary to approach The Last Battle again. I remember it broke my heart as child, because I was too distracted by Peter's words about Susan to see the beauty in the ending. But I read a remark from C.S. Lewis himself on her:
"The books don't tell us what happened to Susan. She is left alive in this world at the end, having by then turned into a rather silly, conceited young woman. But there's plenty of time for her to mend and perhaps she will get to Aslan's country in the end... in her own way."
Lewis wrote this in his Letters to Children. Lewis's remark makes it unmistakably clear that she either survived or was not involved in the train crash, but is the lone Pevensie left in the world after it. I tend imagine the process of grieving would have been harsh and long, but that when she was lonely and old enough to be a child again, she would, like Lewis said, mend, and get to Aslan and the others. Her story is not a tragedy because it is not finished, and that is the greatest hope for Susan.
***
The Narnia series will always be dear to me, but this summer, I'm not just revisiting Narnia but studying Lewis' other works as well, such as Mere Christianity and others. These are more difficult, but I take joy in reading these works as well. Leaving the glitter of fantasy for gritty reality is much like leaving Narnia for England, I suppose.
On that note, one of my favorite moments in all of Narnia-verse came at the end of The Dawn-Treader. Aslan tells Edmund and Lucy that they will not be returning to Narnia.
"You are too old, children," said Aslan, "and you must begin to come close to your own world now."
"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are-- are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."
Though I didn't even take myself seriously half the times I said that Prince Caspian was number 1 on my to-do list for when I got back to the States, I did go see it the day after I got back. Not even a full 24 hours had passed since I landed in Columbia to when I bought my ticket! There were a few major changes, one subplot in particular, from the book to the film. I vaguely expected to be annoyed, even angered by the changes from the book I loved so much, but I was utterly swept away by the movie. I knew the new subplot (nope, I won't be writing any spoilers) and other changes had not been taken lightly by the actors or the crew, and they were changes I understood. I am intrigued to see how the changes Disney and Walden made to Prince Caspian will affect the next movie they plan: Voyage of the Dawn-Treader.
I just finished the Dawn-Treader today-- I loved it, of course. I read the Narnia books as a child in a haphazard order with little attention to more than the plot, and certainly without the critical eye (in the literary sense) that I have today, nor an appreciation for the religious symbolism and allegory. So I have been rereading the series from beginning to end this summer. I even reread the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which is the one I've read so many times since childhood. In Ireland, I read The Horse and His Boy, and reread Prince Caspian.
Next is the Silver Chair, of which I remember very little from my childhood reading. Though Eustace isn't my favorite character, I did grow fond of him after finishing Dawn-Treader. I'm excited to revisit his story and meet Jill again.
I'm wary to approach The Last Battle again. I remember it broke my heart as child, because I was too distracted by Peter's words about Susan to see the beauty in the ending. But I read a remark from C.S. Lewis himself on her:
"The books don't tell us what happened to Susan. She is left alive in this world at the end, having by then turned into a rather silly, conceited young woman. But there's plenty of time for her to mend and perhaps she will get to Aslan's country in the end... in her own way."
Lewis wrote this in his Letters to Children. Lewis's remark makes it unmistakably clear that she either survived or was not involved in the train crash, but is the lone Pevensie left in the world after it. I tend imagine the process of grieving would have been harsh and long, but that when she was lonely and old enough to be a child again, she would, like Lewis said, mend, and get to Aslan and the others. Her story is not a tragedy because it is not finished, and that is the greatest hope for Susan.
***
The Narnia series will always be dear to me, but this summer, I'm not just revisiting Narnia but studying Lewis' other works as well, such as Mere Christianity and others. These are more difficult, but I take joy in reading these works as well. Leaving the glitter of fantasy for gritty reality is much like leaving Narnia for England, I suppose.
On that note, one of my favorite moments in all of Narnia-verse came at the end of The Dawn-Treader. Aslan tells Edmund and Lucy that they will not be returning to Narnia.
"You are too old, children," said Aslan, "and you must begin to come close to your own world now."
"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are-- are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."
6.14.2008
"Already I'm So Lonesome..."
"My bags are packed, I'm ready to go.
I'm standing here outside your door,
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye...
The dawn is breaking, its early morn,
the taxi's waiting, blowing his horn,
already I'm so lonesome I could die...
So kiss me and smile for me,
tell me that you'll wait for me,
hold me like you'll never let me go.
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane...
________________
I'm continually surprised by the people stong enough to break through the walls I've so carefully erected around my heart. Four weeks ago, I didn't know a single one of these people, but only 28 days later, I have struggled to maintain my precious composure as I say goodbye after goodbye. Four girls in particular, I can't imagine not seeing every day.
I've seen them at their worst and their best; we laughed often, complained often, stuck to each other like glue from the minutes we met in the airport four weeks ago. And now we've all tried to hold the tears back as we hug goodbye, uncertain of the next time we should meet. I've watched taxi's drive away, and later today, I will have to watch Kasey walk away to her gate as I part with her for mine. It's harder than I thought it would be to say goodbye to these new friends whom I've known for so short a time.
I've never doubted that God wanted me here this summer, though I've often wondered why, when there were so many other things I could be doing, so many events I missed in the States for this trip. But right now, sitting on my bed in Dublin, a city that was feeling like home, my housemate Kasey asleep on the "Conversation Bed", at 6 am with the birds singing and the sun struggling to break it through the blinds we closed... I know. It was not only for the experience of Dublin and the culture, but to meet these people, make these friends and learn a lesson in endurance and farewells. Also, to teach me even more how much I have back home in America to miss and love and cherish.
I think I will make it through the day without crying. I can only hope to fall asleep on my trans-Atlantic so my mind doesn't have the chance to run wild like it is now! And I know that I'll be okay, that I can say goodbye with a smile, knowing that we will be in contact and knowing that we will be working on a reunion. And, I can be okay, ready, even excited to go, knowing that my parents and brother, friends and family, will be waiting with open arms.
Thank God for new friends, lessons learned, and home on the horizon.
I'm standing here outside your door,
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye...
The dawn is breaking, its early morn,
the taxi's waiting, blowing his horn,
already I'm so lonesome I could die...
So kiss me and smile for me,
tell me that you'll wait for me,
hold me like you'll never let me go.
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane...
________________
I'm continually surprised by the people stong enough to break through the walls I've so carefully erected around my heart. Four weeks ago, I didn't know a single one of these people, but only 28 days later, I have struggled to maintain my precious composure as I say goodbye after goodbye. Four girls in particular, I can't imagine not seeing every day.
I've seen them at their worst and their best; we laughed often, complained often, stuck to each other like glue from the minutes we met in the airport four weeks ago. And now we've all tried to hold the tears back as we hug goodbye, uncertain of the next time we should meet. I've watched taxi's drive away, and later today, I will have to watch Kasey walk away to her gate as I part with her for mine. It's harder than I thought it would be to say goodbye to these new friends whom I've known for so short a time.
I've never doubted that God wanted me here this summer, though I've often wondered why, when there were so many other things I could be doing, so many events I missed in the States for this trip. But right now, sitting on my bed in Dublin, a city that was feeling like home, my housemate Kasey asleep on the "Conversation Bed", at 6 am with the birds singing and the sun struggling to break it through the blinds we closed... I know. It was not only for the experience of Dublin and the culture, but to meet these people, make these friends and learn a lesson in endurance and farewells. Also, to teach me even more how much I have back home in America to miss and love and cherish.
I think I will make it through the day without crying. I can only hope to fall asleep on my trans-Atlantic so my mind doesn't have the chance to run wild like it is now! And I know that I'll be okay, that I can say goodbye with a smile, knowing that we will be in contact and knowing that we will be working on a reunion. And, I can be okay, ready, even excited to go, knowing that my parents and brother, friends and family, will be waiting with open arms.
Thank God for new friends, lessons learned, and home on the horizon.
6.12.2008
Return Flight Info
Hey, everyone! Tomorrow is my last day in Ireland, and Saturday, I'll be in the airport by 10:30 or 11, so for all intents and purposes, tomorrow is my last day period. I'm sad to leave everyone, but ready to be home.
Here is my flight info.
US Airways
Flight 723: Depart Dublin at 2:35 pm, arrive in Philadelphia at 5:10 pm (Eastern Standard Time)
Flight 939: Depart Philadelhpia at 7:05 pm, arrive in Charlotte, NC at 9:00pm
Flight 4365: Depart Charlotte, NC at 10:25 pm, arrive in Columbia at 11:15 pm.
I am annoyed to have a layover in Charlotte that is twice as long as the flight itself. How stupid. But whatever, it was the cheapest way to go, and these layovers were the shortest.
So, I know it is a late arrival (and in my head, it will feel like 4 in the morning, AND I probably won't have slept the night before, AND I probably won't sleep well on the plane, so don't expect sympathy from me, LOL) but I would love to see people there. Clearly, my mom and dad and brother (especially brother) are required to come or else (yes, even you, Dad!) but if anyone else is in town and doesn't mind a late night, I would love to see some familiar faces when I get off the plane in Columbia!
Here is my flight info.
US Airways
Flight 723: Depart Dublin at 2:35 pm, arrive in Philadelphia at 5:10 pm (Eastern Standard Time)
Flight 939: Depart Philadelhpia at 7:05 pm, arrive in Charlotte, NC at 9:00pm
Flight 4365: Depart Charlotte, NC at 10:25 pm, arrive in Columbia at 11:15 pm.
I am annoyed to have a layover in Charlotte that is twice as long as the flight itself. How stupid. But whatever, it was the cheapest way to go, and these layovers were the shortest.
So, I know it is a late arrival (and in my head, it will feel like 4 in the morning, AND I probably won't have slept the night before, AND I probably won't sleep well on the plane, so don't expect sympathy from me, LOL) but I would love to see people there. Clearly, my mom and dad and brother (especially brother) are required to come or else (yes, even you, Dad!) but if anyone else is in town and doesn't mind a late night, I would love to see some familiar faces when I get off the plane in Columbia!
6.11.2008
Just Pictures
Kilkenny Castle
Rothe House and Gardens
Cool sign!
Tower... Climbed this!
Mellefont Abbey Chapterhouse Window
Cross from Monasterboice
View from top of the Tower in Kilkenny
Climbing down these crazy stairs in the tower!
St. Canice Cathedral--lovely!
________
So these pictures are in no logical order and come from a variety of places, though the majority are from today, when our class took a day trip to Kilkenny, and then went to a pub for a send off dinner! :-)
Some Trips, and our Last Hurrah!
It's only Wednesday night, but tonight, our Student Director took almost all of us out to dinner at a really cool pub, where we got three courses plus live music and dancing! It was such a great time. And this was a great way to end the day we spent in Kilkenny with our class! As soon as we got back from that trip, we're dropped off at the pub for a great night.
The pub from tonight was called Merry Ploughboy's-- google it. It was such a great time. When they asked for volunteers to sing, my friends pointed and tried to get me go, but lucky for me, I was on the inside corner of a booth, so I simply couldn't get out. ;-)
In a seperate entry (I'm on a roll, three in one night) I'll post just the pictures and video footage I took tonight and the past few days.
Here's a brief recap of what's gone on-- Sunday was a lazy day. I don't believe we left the house at all. Each Sunday I've considered trying to get to church, but as I am the lone Protestant (not to mention my very lacking sense of direction), I've chosen to celebrate privately these Sundays. :-) And since this coming Sunday is Father's day, and despite the fact that I will be most likely be super-messed up due to jet lag and lack of sleep, I am going to attempt to be at my home church! :-)
Monday-- Our class went to visit a few sights in area--we were going to go to the National Gallery of Modern Art, but sadly, the exhibits were closed on Mondays! So we wondered the grounds aimlessly waiting for our bus to return. After that we visited Kilamein Jail (I have no idea how to spell that). It was a solemn but very interesting site! Also, I finished my paper on Monasterboice that night. Did I post pics of Monasterboice? I think I did on Facebook.
Tuesday-- Class, where we had a guest lecturer, who was a retired EU official and diplomat. He gave an interesting perspective on the upcoming (and very big deal!) vote on the Lisbon Treaty. Google it--the vote is tomorrow!
Today, Kilkenny and the pub! Today was a good day, for sure.
Tomorrow-- Last day of class-- turning our essays and taking a test. Also, we might be going out for a last hurrah that night. I suppose I will go, though it is always awkward being the only one who doesn't drink. It will be my last real night with everyone, as we'll be staying in the house and packing, etc, on Friday night. We'll see how it goes. :-)
I have loved my time here, but home is sounding sweeter and sweeter.
The pub from tonight was called Merry Ploughboy's-- google it. It was such a great time. When they asked for volunteers to sing, my friends pointed and tried to get me go, but lucky for me, I was on the inside corner of a booth, so I simply couldn't get out. ;-)
In a seperate entry (I'm on a roll, three in one night) I'll post just the pictures and video footage I took tonight and the past few days.
Here's a brief recap of what's gone on-- Sunday was a lazy day. I don't believe we left the house at all. Each Sunday I've considered trying to get to church, but as I am the lone Protestant (not to mention my very lacking sense of direction), I've chosen to celebrate privately these Sundays. :-) And since this coming Sunday is Father's day, and despite the fact that I will be most likely be super-messed up due to jet lag and lack of sleep, I am going to attempt to be at my home church! :-)
Monday-- Our class went to visit a few sights in area--we were going to go to the National Gallery of Modern Art, but sadly, the exhibits were closed on Mondays! So we wondered the grounds aimlessly waiting for our bus to return. After that we visited Kilamein Jail (I have no idea how to spell that). It was a solemn but very interesting site! Also, I finished my paper on Monasterboice that night. Did I post pics of Monasterboice? I think I did on Facebook.
Tuesday-- Class, where we had a guest lecturer, who was a retired EU official and diplomat. He gave an interesting perspective on the upcoming (and very big deal!) vote on the Lisbon Treaty. Google it--the vote is tomorrow!
Today, Kilkenny and the pub! Today was a good day, for sure.
Tomorrow-- Last day of class-- turning our essays and taking a test. Also, we might be going out for a last hurrah that night. I suppose I will go, though it is always awkward being the only one who doesn't drink. It will be my last real night with everyone, as we'll be staying in the house and packing, etc, on Friday night. We'll see how it goes. :-)
I have loved my time here, but home is sounding sweeter and sweeter.
Belfast (Its Own Entry!)
View from the bridge in Belfast (I'm telling you, I could sell these to Postcard companies!)
Nifty view of a red street!
Nifty Statue!
The Black Taxi we took on our Black Cab tour-- this is a tour that takes you to both sides, Catholic and Protestant, of the Troubles. The guide gave us a history of the conflict, and showed us murals painted on residences of both sides.
Kasey and I in the Black Taxi.
This a mural painted on a Protestant house. It reads, "Can it change? We believe."
This is the fence that leads into the wall, known as the Belfast Berlin Wall that divides Protestant and Catholic Communities. To this day, it is still locked at nightfall.
The tour guide stopped the Cab so we could get out and write a peace message on the Belfast Berlin Wall.
Me, posing in front of the Paddywagon bus!
St. Patrick's Cathedral--beautiful! And inside, they have some relics, including the preserved head of a saint, St. Oliver Plunkett, but I will not post that picture for any sensitive readers.
This is just a view from the bus. The picture amuses me. ;-)
The Belfast Wheel and City Hall. As you can see, it was a gorgeous day in Belfast!
This is the view from the Belfast Wheel.
_______________________
I think I gave a brief description of my day in Belfast with Kasey in the last entry. So, this go round, I added some pictures with some captions to help it along. I definitely want to return to Belfast one day later in life--it was a beautiful city with a fascinating, if sombering history.
I hope the pictures add to what I wrote before! :-D
6.09.2008
Last Week!
So, the title can be taken two ways: a) a recap of the previous week, or b) the fact that today marks that start of my final week here! I love the ambiguity of the English language. ;-)
Kasey and I went to Belfast on Saturday! It was much too short of a day trip for my liking, simply because I wanted to see so much! We didn't get a lot of free time in the city, but we did get to see the political and religious tension in Belfast, a heavy contrast to the beauty and elegance of the city itself. I know I want to come back sometime in my life to Belfast for a longer trip. And I will post pictures up and write a more detailed entry on that trip later.
I finally finished the paper for my previous class; that was one thing that kept stopping me from uploading pictures or writing here. Now that that one is finished, I have another one to turn in by the end of this week, but it should be much more straightforward and shorter. My themes in Irish history class is going very well-- the prof kind of looks like a caricature of Mr. Scrooge, but he is the kindest, pleasantest man you ever met. And we take field trips every day, which takes the pressure off of me and my friends to do our own touring!
This last week is bound to be interesting--some people have started to pair off, we're starting to become more aware of how far away we all are from each other in the States, and people who were homesick are more reluctant to leave. We've formed a tight knit group over the past four weeks, and a reunion at some point in the future is as inevitable as it is desirable.
I, for one, will be intrigued to see if any of you new blog readers are going to stick with me after I get back. Generally my entries are much more contemplative than they are a recap of my day, so you may be bored with the change. ;-)
For anyone who is in or around Columbia and doesn't mind staying up a bit late, my plane will land in the Columbia Metro Airport at about 11:30pm on Saturday June 14th. Mark the date! I will post all the details for the flights and layovers at the end of the week. And I promise, more pictures will show up here and on Facebook very soon! I need to make room on my camera!
Ciao!
Kasey and I went to Belfast on Saturday! It was much too short of a day trip for my liking, simply because I wanted to see so much! We didn't get a lot of free time in the city, but we did get to see the political and religious tension in Belfast, a heavy contrast to the beauty and elegance of the city itself. I know I want to come back sometime in my life to Belfast for a longer trip. And I will post pictures up and write a more detailed entry on that trip later.
I finally finished the paper for my previous class; that was one thing that kept stopping me from uploading pictures or writing here. Now that that one is finished, I have another one to turn in by the end of this week, but it should be much more straightforward and shorter. My themes in Irish history class is going very well-- the prof kind of looks like a caricature of Mr. Scrooge, but he is the kindest, pleasantest man you ever met. And we take field trips every day, which takes the pressure off of me and my friends to do our own touring!
This last week is bound to be interesting--some people have started to pair off, we're starting to become more aware of how far away we all are from each other in the States, and people who were homesick are more reluctant to leave. We've formed a tight knit group over the past four weeks, and a reunion at some point in the future is as inevitable as it is desirable.
I, for one, will be intrigued to see if any of you new blog readers are going to stick with me after I get back. Generally my entries are much more contemplative than they are a recap of my day, so you may be bored with the change. ;-)
For anyone who is in or around Columbia and doesn't mind staying up a bit late, my plane will land in the Columbia Metro Airport at about 11:30pm on Saturday June 14th. Mark the date! I will post all the details for the flights and layovers at the end of the week. And I promise, more pictures will show up here and on Facebook very soon! I need to make room on my camera!
Ciao!
6.06.2008
Handwriting Analysis
So, this is totally random and not about a tourist spot or school or anything! But the lady that works in our student union here at ACD came over to inspect the house to check up on repairs, and she analyzed our handwriting! She studied psychology, and told us what our handwriting told us about our personality. It was odd, but very interesting. She was actually oddly on the money with us.
I seemed to fascinate her particularly. When the other girls immediatly left to go get samples of her handwriting, and I didn't, she looked at me, and said, "You, go get me a sample!" Haha!
I passed her my binder with my class notes on it, and she looked at it and immediately said, "You're an extrovert, you're definitely an extrovert."
I just laughed and nodded. But she looked at me again, and said, "But you can be shy sometimes, I think." Sure, right?
She kept looking at my notes, and here are the other things she said.
"You're very territorial--you don't like people coming in and out of your circle all the time. You don't mind people coming in, but if they try to leave..." She just kind of trailed off here. ;-) I wasn't sure how I felt about this conclusion--it didn't make much sense.
Then she said, "You wouldn't take the spotlight all the time, you'd push someone else into it in some occassions." This amused me, because I (shamefully) enjoy being in the spotlight.
Then she said, "You're a home-body, I think. You like having connections to home." True enough. I laughed a lot, out of amusement, I think, and out of the slight awkwardness of the situation--being psychoanalyzed in front of my housemates, lol!
She moved on to the other girls, and we changed the subject, but in the middle of a conversation, where I was making a comment, she turned her attention back to me, and said, "You're very shy inside, I think. Despite your rough exterior. You're not all you're putting on, and you don't trust as easily as you should. Because you're very likable, you know."
I was a little stunned by this sudden intimate and oddly accurate conclusion. I'd like to hope that I am not putting up a facade. And I wasn't exactly sure how to take her comment about "rough exterior" but she immediately said that it wasn't a bad thing. Maybe she means diamond in the rough, type deal. ;-) lol!
I'm not a very shy person, I don't think. But there is a definite line. There are some parts of myself I give to everyone, and some parts that I give to no one, or very few. I'm not going to confide in people until I really get to know them.
And as far as trust goes, I think she is right on the money here. I'm a very trusting person in that I make friends pretty easily, and I always give people the benefit of the doubt, but when it comes to more intimate, emotional feelings or issues, I trust very few. I am slow to trust, but once I do, I trust fully, I think. The number of people to get to this level with me are fairly few.
If you can't tell, I was slightly rattled by Kathie's visit! The things she said were very intriguing. Some things I think were out there, but with others she was spot on. I remember being pretty interesting in handwriting analysis as a kid-- I once bought a book on it at a Scholastic book fair! ;-)
I don't take what she said too seriously, but it was definitely interesting and fun to hear what she had to say! Thanks Kathie! ;)
I seemed to fascinate her particularly. When the other girls immediatly left to go get samples of her handwriting, and I didn't, she looked at me, and said, "You, go get me a sample!" Haha!
I passed her my binder with my class notes on it, and she looked at it and immediately said, "You're an extrovert, you're definitely an extrovert."
I just laughed and nodded. But she looked at me again, and said, "But you can be shy sometimes, I think." Sure, right?
She kept looking at my notes, and here are the other things she said.
"You're very territorial--you don't like people coming in and out of your circle all the time. You don't mind people coming in, but if they try to leave..." She just kind of trailed off here. ;-) I wasn't sure how I felt about this conclusion--it didn't make much sense.
Then she said, "You wouldn't take the spotlight all the time, you'd push someone else into it in some occassions." This amused me, because I (shamefully) enjoy being in the spotlight.
Then she said, "You're a home-body, I think. You like having connections to home." True enough. I laughed a lot, out of amusement, I think, and out of the slight awkwardness of the situation--being psychoanalyzed in front of my housemates, lol!
She moved on to the other girls, and we changed the subject, but in the middle of a conversation, where I was making a comment, she turned her attention back to me, and said, "You're very shy inside, I think. Despite your rough exterior. You're not all you're putting on, and you don't trust as easily as you should. Because you're very likable, you know."
I was a little stunned by this sudden intimate and oddly accurate conclusion. I'd like to hope that I am not putting up a facade. And I wasn't exactly sure how to take her comment about "rough exterior" but she immediately said that it wasn't a bad thing. Maybe she means diamond in the rough, type deal. ;-) lol!
I'm not a very shy person, I don't think. But there is a definite line. There are some parts of myself I give to everyone, and some parts that I give to no one, or very few. I'm not going to confide in people until I really get to know them.
And as far as trust goes, I think she is right on the money here. I'm a very trusting person in that I make friends pretty easily, and I always give people the benefit of the doubt, but when it comes to more intimate, emotional feelings or issues, I trust very few. I am slow to trust, but once I do, I trust fully, I think. The number of people to get to this level with me are fairly few.
If you can't tell, I was slightly rattled by Kathie's visit! The things she said were very intriguing. Some things I think were out there, but with others she was spot on. I remember being pretty interesting in handwriting analysis as a kid-- I once bought a book on it at a Scholastic book fair! ;-)
I don't take what she said too seriously, but it was definitely interesting and fun to hear what she had to say! Thanks Kathie! ;)
6.04.2008
Farm and Other Happenings
Hello, all!
PS: My camera doesn't record with sound! Sorry! I may invest in a new one some time in the future.
It's been pretty busy this week! Sorry for not updating for a couple of days. I forget I have an audience now. ;-)
So here is the Cliff's Notes version of the past few days.
Sunday: Visit to Jameson Whisky Distillery. Nifty place for souveniers and touring, but otherwise not of much interest to me. ;-) I did taste my friend's complimentary drink, Jameson and cranberry juice, though. I knew by the smell I wouldn't like it, and the one sip sealed the deal. Whiskey = not my thing. ;-)
This weekend was the first for another batch of students that arrived, so it was their "orientation" weekend. I am amused that their first activity was the Jameson Distillery and ours was the Guiness Storehouse. Pattern? ;-)
Monday: One of the coolest days ever! We took a trip to an Irish Farm! Sadly, I lost some of my pictures from that day, but one of my housemates backed them up, luckily. I will get them from her later and post a few of the ones I didn't lose.
So at the farm, we made bread, and while it was baking, we learned to play the traditional Irish drum, called the Bodhran. We learned an Irish dance to a reel. (Lots of fun. It should be said that there was a loose board in the dance floor, and someone knocked it to the side, and yes, I stepped in the hole, and fell. This shouldn't be news to anyone, as I am a klutz.) Haha! I try to entertain when I can.
After the most delicious meal ever, plus the bread that I made with the other Hillary (we refer to ourselves as Hillary squared, BTW) We did a bunch of other things together. We herded some cows (for real!), walked around in an Irish bog (barefoot! and some of the boys jumped in to their waste), built some fuel stacks out of turf, herded ponies, wandered around a barn, went on a hayride, and had some freshly baked scones before we headed out. Also, we tried our hand at hurling, a big Irish sport and the fastest ball/stick sport in the world. And I am proud to say that I could whack the ball farther than all the girls and all but three of the boys. ;-) Thank you softball!
It was a great day!
Tuesday: New class started: Themes in Irish History, Study Tour Seminar. So, in this class, we have a lecture for the first part of the day and then take field trips around Dublin and the surrounding area. It is sweet. Tuesday we went to the National Museum and there were cool artifacts and bog bodies! That was very strange!
Wednesday: (Today) Caught up now! Today, our field trip was to Trinity College, Dublin City Hall, and Dublin Castle. Cool stuff. So my paper for my previous class is loosely due on Monday, and I am not done. Therefore, I am getting off the blog to get to work!
Enjoy some pics and vids from the farm!
PS: My camera doesn't record with sound! Sorry! I may invest in a new one some time in the future.
6.01.2008
Day Trip to Galway
On the train!
Ruins of a castle with a impossible to pronounce name.
"Best preserved" remains of an old fort.
View from the bus--don't know who's reflection that is though!
The tour bus. Yay!
Sheep!
The wall around the fort.
An ancient Celtic tomb.
Pub for lunch! Delicious for most (Sorry Kasey and Mike, but pricey)
Gazing over at the cliffs. Beautiful!
Many photos were taken.
Cliff edge.
Yes, I took a lot of pictures of these cliffs. They were majestic, okay?! ;-)
The Visitor Center! Carved into the hill like a Hobbit house in the Shire.
There were actually signs that said do not jump or had stick figures pantomiming the consequences. I would think that this would be obvious, but maybe not!
There were actually signs that said do not jump or had stick figures pantomiming the consequences. I would think that this would be obvious, but maybe not!
Haha! This is my PO'd face, but I promise, I wasn't angry at all. On the train ride back, we were all a little crazy, and I was just making faces. ;-)
For example--here is Kasey getting very into a song on her iPod. ;-)
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And just to change things up, I will have a guest blogger tonight! Here's the woman herself--Kasey! ;-)
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hi all of you readers out there in blogville , kasey here , i am one of hillary's flatmates. i have had the privledge of living with hillary for the past two weeks and am happy to report to report that she is completley normal. we have been traveling all over ireland and the irish countryside. she deals with my weirdness greatly as i do with hers. i have to admit when i met her i thought she would have more of a southern accent, but surprisingly she talks with just a little one. so this weekend we went to galway and the cliffs of moher and as hillary may soon tell you i was OBSESSED with the cows and sheep. they are just so cute!!!!! :)
we saw the cliffs, and thankfully i talked her out of jumping off for a quick swim in the atlantic. simply reminding her that the water would be very cold lol. the train ride home was quite entertaining , we were all very over tired. as you will see in the video posted , i decided to give a concert on the train. i apologize that i am a bad singer, but i had a blast doing it.
anywhoo i will now transfer the blogging back to its truthful owner the one and only Hillary Beasley ......
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That was Kasey, everyone! And she really took a lot of pictures of cows, and every time we passed some on the train or bus, she was kind enough to alert the rest of the passengers by squealing. ;-) Also, she and the other Hillary tried to call the sheep by cooing, "Here, sheep-sheep-sheep!" It didn't work, sadly.
Our trip to the Cliffs and all the stops made for a great Saturday!!
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