My ramblings on respect.

I need you to start saying "Go get 'em, Tiger" instead of treating me like I'm incompetent.

Ladies (Gentlemen, if there is error in my thinking, I need to know),


Did your mama teach you how to show confidence in your men (dad, bothers, brothers-in-law, cousins, uncles, grandfathers, future husband, etc)? If your growing up experience was like mine, the answer is yes..and no. And really not enough.

I try to say, "Do you want this _(insert unnecessary, though potentially handy item)_ just in case...?" and "Would you rather _(again, insert likely unnecessary item or idea, and very possibly something he can't actually do because of outside restrictions)_ ...?" and the like. I hardly ever say outright that I believe the best of them.

Ladies, your men don't want to be namby-pambied. It's not helpful. Do they want your love? Sure. But, believe it or not, they may just well prefer your respect. They don't want you to baby them by trying to take care of every little detail. They want to be men, strong, capable, the supporters and providers. Let them. Build them up for that, but don't think you're making them that on your own. They want to know you trust them to handle things, to be intelligent and think things through, to do the best they can, and to take care of you and others.

Historically and traditionally, the men fought the wars and battles. This is not discrimination against women nor should it be offensive. Ladies, face it, we are physically (and mentally) formed differently than men. This is actually something to be happy about as it is a reflection of God's creativity, diversity, and desire to display different aspects of His glory with prominence. Men have the bigger and stronger muscles. They have more testosterone! They enjoy being strong more than they enjoy being pretty. Adam was formed with a purpose in mind. So was Eve, but her purpose was different than Adam's even though they shared as equal partners in life as a married couple and as God's children.

So, ladies, let your men keep their man roles. And let them know you know they have what it takes.

And think about this, too. Confidence in your men, if thought appropriately, is really confidence in God. Read Ephesians 5:21-33. Did you see it? Did you notice specifically verse 22? What did it say again? "Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord" (New International Version). That's more like what I'm used to seeing, and I think it is often taken as "you must always do exactly what he says." But The Message translation put the same verse in a way that I thought was pretty helpful: "Wives, understand and support your husbands in ways that show your support for Christ."

God is in control. Do you agree? And He raises up His children in His image for His purposes and His glory. And He has promised to take care of His children. Now, that doesn't always mean what we think it should, but God never promised us that we would make it through life without suffering (really, why do we even think that? do we not know the stories of Joseph, Job, David was persecuted by his own son, the apostles were persecuted and martyred for Christ, and, oh yeah, Christ hung on the cross and suffered hell).

But if we trust God, really trust Him, we will trust Him with our men. We may not always like what happens, but we have to remember that God wants His name to be glorified throughout the earth, and He is not inactive. He is at work to accomplish His goal, and He uses the entire world (which, He created; He has every right to do so) to bring it about. Our men are a part of God's plan, and we, ladies, can not control it (nor should we want to, but that is a heart matter that can be worked through only by His grace).

Do you have respect for and confidence in your men? Better yet, do you have respect for and confidence in the Father?

Cheer Up... It could be worse.

Is "it can always be worse than it is" a positive way to approach a friend (or yourself) in a hard time? Is it helpful and good? Is it discouraging and convicting to others when they just can't feel happy but think they should be more grateful because they know in their heads that the statement is true?

How does it fall with this?

How should such a thing be approached? And how can it differ depending on the person?

Unexpected. But then, what hasn't been?

Did you know I was thinking about going to Mexico? That, for a little while, I had planned to be in Mexico right now?

Not that I was going to live there indefinitely.

But, so many things just ... didn't allow for it. Let me share a taste of this part of my recent journey.


This past spring semester I took the Perspectives course. I learned a lot; it changed my outlook, my perspective (I know it's confusing before you actually attend, but it is aptly named), and I wanted to do things I'd never wanted to do before. Missions, my friend. I wanted to see God's Good News spread to the nations. I wanted to see it firsthand, because I wanted Him to use me and send me somewhere to spread it.

Somewhere like Mexico.

After all, I was learning Spanish. And, in the summer, I continued learning Spanish. And in the fall semester, I was going to finish my language requirement for my degree (though I thought I might continue learning the language after that anyway).

Well, a friend of mine was moving back to her home state, and she remembered the annual trip between the fall and spring semesters to, ahem, Mexico, that she headed up in her home state for years. So we both thought, huh, maybe I should go, too?

I looked into what I would need, passport, travel costs, and maybe (I don't recall what they were, but they were probably in the back of my planning mind) other miscellaneous things that weren't all that important because the truth was, I didn't have enough money. And I didn't see how I would earn the rest of the money that I would need in time.

I thought about it, and I prayed about it. And then, in the fall semester, I was having a hard time in one of my classes that was beyond my abilities.

At this point, I'm pretty sure I was already teetering on the 'I'm not going to Mexico' edge. I didn't want to give up on the dream, but I just didn't see how it was possible. Still, I'm a die hard (sort of), and I hang onto dreams sometimes far longer than I ever should.

But, I was facing the immediate concern of what to do for this class that was giving me so much trouble. So when I heard about a seminar for learning to read faster and more effectively, I figured I should stick around for it and go. In this brief seminar, I actually noticed an improvement in my reading and retaining. So, since there was a deep pile of reading for my class, I thought this is what I needed, and I signed up for the four week class, spending my money on that.

At this point, with no passport, not enough time to get it, not enough money to get it, and not enough money for the trip, and with no feasible way to get the rest (no, I wasn't going to rob a bank), Mexico was out.

And as much as I still didn't want to give it up, I couldn't see a way around it, and I thought I needed this class to help me keep from failing the course I was in. (Yes, I said failing.)

Fast forward a month or so, Mexico was long gone from my agenda, I finished the reading course, and I was concentrating on my courses at OU. Wow that was full. I tried, and I used what I had learned from the reading course (I probably could have been more effective with it, had I not been working on so many other things), but either it didn't help me enough, or I didn't use it to it's best advantage. Likely some of both.

I was still failing.

And I was frustrated.

Yes, the reading course helped me some, and no, I didn't want to say it was a waste of time, effort, or money. But really. I wondered why on earth I had taken the course, when it wasn't doing what I'd hoped and thought I'd needed it to do for me.

So, money gone, time for getting a passport long gone, I still wished there had been some way to join the missionary effort in Mexico. Even still yet.

And I wasn't doing all that much better in my really hard class.

As it turned out, I talked with my professor, who was very understanding, and, in effect, I became something of an audit student. I had already paid for the class, and I wasn't going to get my money back, but my professor let me switch to taking the class as incomplete. I still was allowed to show up and learn; I still had the books. But I no longer had a grade and a GPA riding on my level of success in this class.

So, class load remarkably lightened, money spent on a reading class, Mexico not realistically in the picture anymore (except for unrealistically still wishing in the back of my head), I was confused as to why I had gone through that when it turned out as it had, and still a bit frustrated that I didn't have even enough money for a passport.

Now, some of the pieces start to fall into place a little more clearly for my mind if we fast forward again, yet still in the same fall semester. (It was one full semester.)

My mother has had problems with her health, but she always did the cooking and laundry and cleaning and shopping and the like. But, in this semester, her health continued it's slow deterioration, and that even sped up a bit.

She could no longer do the cooking or the laundry or the cleaning. And there was no one else to step up and take care of those things. Except for me.

So that's exactly what I started doing. And I finally realized how much Mama did to keep the house together (and I still couldn't keep up with it all, so, Wow, Mom!). I started pitching in. I actually turned the oven on. Laundry I was fairly used to, but now I had to make sure more of it got done. So I was fairly busy. Any time that my hard class would have taken up, and no longer had to, was filled with helping with the housework and helping Mom. And I had my other classes to keep me busy, like finishing my required Spanish course (which was, itself, a headache of a class at times), and writing 50,000 words of first draft for my first novel.

So, once again, money gone, time gone, Mexico not even in my mind anymore, learning Spanish, writing a novel (in English), cooking, and laundry, and life's little fillers, I was busy. Quite possibly the busiest I have ever been.

I knew things weren't getting better when I had to go shopping for groceries by myself. It might seem childish, but this semester was the first time that had ever happened. And that's when I realized that I didn't know where everything was kept in the store very well. An adventurous outing.

So, the pieces started to make sense. I believe that a large part of why I never had what I needed in order to go to Mexico, where I would have been on this day, is because God knew I would be needed here.

Once again, He knew far better than I did. And even though I thought I wanted to go for Him, He wanted me to stay for Him.

And willing and wanting to go, I stayed.

Milestone

Well, I reached my assigned goal for the semester for my novel writing class.

Yes, a class on writing a novel. You read that correctly.

So I learned about writing, and I had to write...50,000 words. Yep. Fifty-thousand. Words. (No, I did not write them all choppy like this.)

So, I thought that deserved a post.

It was a journey. If anyone wonders what there is to learn about writing novels or how hard it can be to write a novel or how long 50,000 words is (generally short for novel length, actually), send them my way. I'll educate them.

That said, I must point out this: I'm not done.

I have written over 50,000 words, and my first draft isn't complete. I have a large gap somewhere in the middle of my story where I jump toward the ending, and I haven't even finished the ending.

Now, I jumped to the ending because my novel instructor (remember what I said before about novel people?) wanted to make sure I knew how to write the ending (again, if people think there's nothing to it...). And, for class, I think this is a good idea. The ending is neither like the beginning nor the middle, though a reader should be fairly blissfully ignorant of this. Unless the reader is also a writer, trying to improve on the craft. That aside, I started too far back from the end. So I still have to write it.

But this doesn't bother me. After all, isn't writing what I signed up to do?

It is.

And I find I like it.

So, while I won't have weekly deadlines of 4,000 word "milestone" lumps, and no one else will be pushing me to write for a grade, I have plans and goals. And I have proven to myself that I can write 50,000 words. What's 20,000 or 30,000 more? And really, I can't leave my characters hanging where they are. Not in either of the two spots where I have left off.

I know my characters aren't alive and breathing. I've been over that before. But after writing, and following, their adventure, their dreams, their wants, their needs, I am rather attached. Which I count as a good thing. If I wasn't attached, how could I expect my future readers to be drawn into the story? Admit it, your favorite stories, you empathize with the characters; when you open the covers of the book and turn the pages, you are there with them.

That's how I am when I read. That's normal. That's the goal. That's when the writer has done his job. And that's what I want to do. So far, it's working, at least on myself.

And one of the reasons it's worked on myself is because I have either experienced what my characters have gone through, or I have experienced the emotions. Throughout my life, but more specifically, this semester.

Friends, it is not always a happy book. Once, my teacher, who may be a novel person, told the entire class that I was doing a good job of not giving my characters a break. His reaction was one of frustration and depression, even though he delivered it with comedy.

Maybe I am doing my job.

Have I been depressed? Sure. Maybe to the extreme of my characters, maybe not. But the thing is, all writing reveals something about the writer. It can't be avoided. And the saying, "Write what you know," doesn't have to mean factual information. Far from it. Facts can be researched. It is the emotions that you know. It is the emotions that I know. This story just so happens to be full of certain sad emotions. My main characters are in their teens, of course that's what it's full of.

The journey for me has been in living. Living through the past semester. Celebrating the ups, working through the obstacles, and dealing with the downs. The journey has been in my relationships and the increase and variations of my tasks.

And I have shared my journey with Makani and Tip. In some ways, they have helped me through the journey, because I could give them portions of it, helping me to work through things, particularly the things I didn't understand.

It wasn't a mistake that I had that outlet. God knew what I would need before I knew there would be any changes in my life.

I am grateful that I had this story to write. I am grateful that I still have it to finish. And I will carry it with me, unseen, even after I no longer work on improving it.

This is my first milestone of many.

Fifteen Media

Something I've been wanting to put together for awhile. Ever since I read it here first.

Here are fifteen or so media which have profoundly changed me or had some major impact on who I am today.


1. Perspectives on the World Christian Movement (college level course): Opened my eyes to what missions is meant to be and can be. This course challenged me to my core and changed the way I see so many different parts of life.

2. Captivating (book): After years of self-bashing (mentally and emotionally; I didn't take a baseball bat to my head) this book helped me to stop murdering myself and to realize that in God's eyes, He has made me beautiful and that I do have true worth.

3. Pride and Prejudice (2005 movie) (book): I watched the movie and understood the language, which I had before seen as impossible to interpret, and therefore, boring. The story was funny and very sweet. Shortly after, I read the book and likewise loved it. Thus the world of Jane Austen was opened to me for the rest of my life.

4. Disney movies: It may be a bit of a cheat to list a lump of movies by the same company, but...it’s my list. I have been rediscovering these movies lately, and I have found that the themes of longing for good things, trust, betrayal, misunderstandings, good and evil, and committed love are just as profound and meaningful for women as they are for little girls dreaming of their princes. Perhaps even more so now than before. Here are a few that come to mind as being particularly important to me: Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty, Anastasia (okay, this one is Fox, not Disney)

5. Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (play): another step along the path of allowing myself to be the girl I have been all along, relishing in the story and characters as they came alive right before me.

6. YouTube (collection of videos online): searching through clips of various movies set to good songs is also another step along the path to allowing myself to immensely enjoy the things which set my heart aflutter through good songs and good stories. It turns out I'm far more girlie than I had let myself be for years.

7. Creative Writing (college level course): this class along with some other factors helped me to see not only that I wanted to write and edit stories, but that I could. It helped give me direction for choosing a college major that I like (before I even knew it existed) and what I might enjoy for a paying job (dare I use the word, career).

8. Hip Hop dance class, Irish dance class, Ballroom dance class (classes of various levels and of various durations), and Musicals (such as Disney movies, Fiddler on the Roof, and, of course Seven Brides for Seven Brothers): I am a dancer. Even though I can be as clumsy as all get out, when music plays, I feel a joy well up inside me that must come out in some fashion, often through dance. Learning different ways to dance has definitely affected my daily life. I have been exposed to the sounds, rhythms, and moods of different kinds of music, and what can be done with them. I dance wherever I am.

9. What To Do When Your Mom or Dad Says ... Clean Your Room! (book): when I received this, I was granted insight into what others thought of my maturity. A truly haunting two weeks.

10. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (book): before I read the book, I had thought the story was an awful tale about a wicked boy who used magic. When discussing it with my brother, I was forced to rethink my prejudice that was based on little more than other peoples’ bad assumptions. Since then I have tried to be less judgmental before I see what things (in particular, stories) are for myself.

11. Any time I go through an arts festival or museum with my best friends (events and art): we always meander through, taking in all the arts displays and examining some things for sale that suit our fancy. We often have differing tastes in what really sparks our imaginations or plays with our emotions, but we usually each find at least one thing (usually a painting or a print of a painting) that is special to us specifically. Two that struck my fancy were “Two Blackbirds” in the OKC Museum of Art and “West of the City” by Carolyn Mock at the 2007(?) OKC Arts Festival hosted by OCCC. These two particular paintings/prints whisper of stories to me that I hope to someday write.

12. “Desert Song” (song): Music is hard for me to choose. I love so much music, that it’s sometimes hard to tell what has had major impact on my life and what is just really good. “Desert Song” is an encouraging battle song in my mind. When I feel wrung out and dry, I call to God. With His mighty hand protecting me, no weapon on earth shall remain, because He is The Victory and He is here.

13. “You Said (Ask and You Will Receive)” (song): Another song that has great impact on me, largely due to the Perspectives course. This song is a focus on the call to reach all God’s people (the nations) with His Word, and a reminder of His promise that is connected to the mission mandate.

14. Petals (book - not yet available in stores): Showed me that I truly can edit, and love it along the way.

15. Julie & Julia (2009 movie): Yes, this is a movie about cooking and two women who cooked. No, I do not cook (except for the taquitos recently). But now I actually want to. I am not quite so scared of the prospect of cooking (or burning things), and I even think of it as a challenge that could be fun...and tasty. (And, yes, the taquitos were very tasty.)

An Unsettled Heart

One night, I was getting ready for bed, and I was nervous. I had no reason to be nervous, but I could not calm myself down. I was almost excited, but it wasn't exactly what I normally feel when I'm really happy about something and can't contain myself. It was an unsettled feeling near my heart, that persisted no matter what I thought about or did. I paced, bouncing from one thing to the next, thinking that I was simply restless at an inopportune time (as it was bedtime). Nothing satisfied that nervousness. I was in bed, lights out, trying to go to sleep. The feeling was still there and refused to leave me alone.

Finally, unable to think of anything else to set my mind to, I prayed. I prayed for one thing and one person after another, going through a list of people who came to mind. I prayed for my best friends, my family, friends in Stillwater, I prayed for things that were coming up. I prayed and prayed, asking for things such as God's peace and help for these people.

At last, one particular friend came to mind, and I prayed for him. Then the nervous feeling started ebbing away. I prayed for him for a long time, until well after the fear inside me had passed.

I checked up on this friend later and found out he was perfectly fine. All the concerns I had prayed about seemed to be for nothing. He hadn't been in danger (yes, that had come to my mind when I was praying), and things were going well for him.

Huh. Odd.

But until I had started focusing my prayer on him to the God of the universe, my heart was unsettled. After I had concentrated on lifting him up to the Lord, the worry, fear, and restlessness went away.

Friends, that had never happened to me before.

Then it happened again. Another day, this time I think it was the afternoon, that same persistent anxious feeling settled in next to my heart. I'm not exaggerating this, that's exactly what it felt like. It was completely a physical feeling. I was not actually worried about anything when the feeling came.

I remembered what had happened before, so I sat myself down, and started praying for everyone I thought of, specifically and regarding specific things. I kept going, searching for the one thing or person I needed to lift up to God. I prayed for person after person, and the unease didn't go away. After a little while, I thought of the Perspectives class I took last Spring. So I prayed...for the nations. Peace slipped in, overtaking the nervousness. I prayed that the nations would come to know God. I prayed that God's name would be declared, that He would send His children out, to spread the Good News of Christ. This time it took the whole world to calm me down. But I did.

I don't know why this happened either time. I find it a little odd. I don't know why I had to pray specifically for that one person, and I'm not sure why I needed to pray for the nations at that particular moment.

The first time I thought was scary. I genuinely thought my friend was in some major danger or had a big problem right then, late at night.

The second time, I wondered if someone might be having trouble, and I was surprised to find that it was praying for the nations instead of an individual that I knew that settled me down.

It wasn't what I was expecting either time.

Both happened since this past spring season. I forget exactly when. I don't remember how much time passed between the first time and the second, but it seemed like a long time. It has not happened again.

Now I'm just waiting to see if I may ever learn the purpose of those moments.
And I'm wondering if it will ever happen again.

Why I Write

I just finished my character sketches and sent them to my novel professor (he teaches novel, but you might say he is a novel person, too). He might send them back and say, "Work on this," or "What does this mean?" or perhaps, "This doesn't make sense," and then I'd have to edit, modify, and make them even better. But overall, I'm done. And that makes me really happy and excited.

There's just something about creating characters, people on paper, that is terribly exciting. Especially when the task is complete. I thought I knew these people before I filled in tiny and insignificant details (along with the overriding, really important ones), and now that I have put them together as much as I can think, I feel like they are real (well, as real as fiction can be; I'm not a total loon). They are real, and they are important. They have hopes and dreams just like me and fears and shortcomings just like me.

I have also started on my novel. After my last Writer's Block meeting, I was so pumped from reading the first chapter to my friends and getting feedback that I wrote the entire second chapter in one night. I wanted to tell this story.

I now have three chapters, and today I hope to work on more. The more I know about my characters and their setting, the more excited I get to not only tell others what happens, but also to find out myself. I want to know more about these people. I think a novel writer (someone who writes novels, but may also be a novel person) has to care about the characters and want to know them better if he is to finish telling their story. If the writer doesn't find the people interesting, readers aren't likely to, either.

Something I like so much about writing fictional characters and breathing life into them, is just that. As God made man and breathed life into his body, I reflect that ability for creation and love of life. Now, I don't actually breathe on the pages and people pop out where I can touch them, but I can make them seem like real, relatable people to myself and to my readers. I can orchestrate their lives so that they are prepared for the trials they face, similar to the way God directs the universe and grants people the skills and tools they need to handle the dificulties in their real lives. (One big difference for which I am very grateful: God doesn't need a second draft!) Thinking like a writer has actually helped me see how God has been active in my own life.

When I write, I worship. I see what I can do to get the feel and idea of people and lives, and it's okay. But it points me to what God has done and what He is doing and what He will do, and that is perfect, just as He is perfect.

For Joel and Jon

For Joel and Jon.
I'm finally answering the question, why do I like Hawai`i! Ye-Ah!

Okay, I like Hawai`i. I have for years. I like Oklahoma, too. For longer than I've like Hawai`i (a place I've never been). But there's something about Hawai`i that draws me to it, and someday, I hope to at least visit for a while.

Climate is a big deal. The weather is relatively stable (unless a monsoon or something is coming), and at right about the ideal temperature for me. I like to be warm, I don't like to be cold. I like to be comfortable in shorts indoors, but often am not thanks to overworked air conditioners. I also like sleeveless shirts because they're so comfortable, but again, often need a jacket indoors due to air conditioners. So, I think I'd really like the weather.

Location is handy because it's still one of the 50 states, so I wouldn't exactly need a passport.

And because it's one of the 50 states (my home country), yet so different from the rest of them, I'm interested in it. The peoples who have come through and settled there, the mixture of cultures, the mix of languages. These are things I think would be fun and worthwhile to learn about. Plus I love the way Hawaiian sounds and repeats, and yes, I like hula.

The ocean is alluring, and Hawai`i is there. It is special to me because it is a grand assortment of things I like. Many times people have told me that I wouldn't really enjoy certain things that I thought I would like. When I got the chance to find out, more often than not, they were wrong.

I like Hawai`i and I haven't even stepped foot on an ocean beach. I like Hawai`i and I've never smelled gulf water. I like Hawai`i and I've never even been on an airborne plane.
I like Hawai`i, and someday I'd like to visit.

The Way Sin Works

Everything I despise, I am.

Thank God that I despise it instead of love it. He is holy and demands justice, but that justice, the price, has been paid, and it is credited to me when all I did was add to the debt.

I could not possibly have a god bigger or more gracious than The Most High! He is big beyond this world, solar system, galaxy, universe!

Is there no place like home?

Tell me, what is home? Just take a minute to settle in your mind what you think of when you define home. I'll wait.
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I've been thinking about what home means a lot lately. My brother and sister-in-law just moved from one home to another, I recently went on a trip where I stayed in a place that I considered my home, and other things have brought it forward in my thoughts.

For my trip, I visited some very good friends of mine. It was a good trip and a good visit. While I was there, I called their house home and I thought of it as home. It was my very comfortable home for a few days. I tend to think of it as my second home.

Yet on the trip back, as I got closer to familiar territory, I got more and more excited. I was headed home. And I wondered.

I had enjoyed where I stayed and with whom I was staying enough to comfortably call it home, yet I was happy to be going back to my home, because my home was simply that. My home. Why is that?

One of my initial thoughts was I was glad to be getting back to all my things. Sure I had brought what I needed with me, but I had all my stuff at my home. And I wondered, was it really my stuff that made it my home? I didn't think so.

It's nice to have a closet with enough clothes rather than living out of a suitcase. It's nice to have a bigger, softer toothbrush that works better than the dinky, hard one for my travel kit. And there are other things that I couldn't bring with me that are nice to have around. My things. But they're still things.

Is it the routine? While I was on my visit, I was on a vacation of sorts. I didn't really have tasks or a to do list to satisfy. I didn't have much of a time table for the days. I basically had no plans for a day until sometime in that day. Did that make it seem less like home? I've had times like that here...just not during the school year. But then, I still would have been on my mini vacation if I had stayed here, so perhaps that isn't really the difference.

Is it the people? I love the people I live with. I love my friends and family here. But I love the people I stayed with on my vacation, too. Of course the relationships are different, but not in bad ways. As far as people go, the biggest difference between the two homes is probably that I know more people, friends I can call up and perhaps get together with on short notice, close to my home than I do at my second home.

Is it the location? Honestly, there's not a whole lot of difference between the two places to me. Yeah the layout of the town is different, and the location of the houses are different, and the style of houses are different, but both are still cities/towns with shops, stores, streets, cars, people, and parking lots. They both have residential areas of varying quality and fanciness. But really, Wal-Mart seems pretty much the same wherever you go.

So, what is home? What was the answer for you?

Your things? The routine? The people? The location?
A place to crash at night? A comfortable place where you can snuggle in a secure blanket away from the dangers and troubles of the world? An idea of ownership? A place of service you open to others?
A refuge? Your castle?

My question is, If home is where the heart is, why is the heart there instead of elsewhere? What makes home so identifiable that you cling to it rather than to something else in a different town, city, state, country, continent?



I like to think that I'm transplantable, that I can live in some other place--either similar or foreign to where I am now--and call it and claim it as my home. But am I really? I've never truly been tested in this manner; I've only ever gone on short trips away from home, both short in distance and duration of time.

I think my idea of my home is being shaped, formed, and crafted into something perhaps it never was before. Something that I probably never would have thought it could become. God is at work, transforming where my heart is, so that my home may be what He wants.


...

I am so excited!

Happy valentine's day!

This is how I roll.

The things I give to others and notice in others are the things I need the most and need noticed in me.

Adam's Rib

This semester I've been thinking a lot about marriage. I've been working through what it means to be married. Sure, I was a typical teenage girl, thinking I wanted a boyfriend and wanted to be married since I hit the dreaded thirteen years old, but I only thought that's what I wanted. I never thought--really thought--about what marriage would mean, be like, or require. Now, I'm trying to.

As I was thinking about it several nights ago, I was pondering Adam's rib. I don't really know why this particular aspect entered my mind, but I decided to pursue it some. I wondered why God chose Adam’s rib to form Eve. It’s often mentioned in weddings that God chose Adam’s rib because it was close to his heart, so Eve, his wife, should be close to his heart as well.

I think that’s very sweet, and I agree with it. God is tender, and He enjoys symbolism such as that.

Which made me wonder if there was more to it. There are other things close to the heart, using a physical description, not a spiritual one(for now). The lung is the main body part that comes to my mind. Let’s examine this a little.

The lung does a lot of work, it keeps the body alive, but the rib does just as much work, yet it isn’t as necessary for survival. Having a wife does not keep a man alive. It is a blessed thing to be married, but there are many who do not wed ever and there are several who don't get married until they're older. If marriage were required for the survival of an individual, living for any length of time would be tricky. I think the lung would probably have given the wrong symbolism.

The rib is a dexterous piece of bone. It has a flexible joint to allow for the expanding and contracting of the lungs. It is strong and provides some protection to the heart and the lungs. In this, it protects the core of the body as well as one of the most important organs for life. If the rib is damaged or broken, it is harmful to the body and needs to be healed. Otherwise it could puncture that ever necessary lung. It is enclosed in the body, not exposed to the elements, and in that way, even the rib is protected.

So, let’s take this symbolism and translate it.


The rib is close to the heart.
A wife should be close to her husband’s heart. She is precious to him, and his job is to love her.

The rib has flexibility.
A wife is flexible and willing to adjust to her husband’s needs, and she is always by him.

The rib protects the heart and lung.
A wife defends her husband. It’s not all chauvinism; yes, the husband is supposed to protect his wife, but it goes both ways. Because she is precious to him, he needs her on his side. He needs her to be able to block and deflect the knife of doubt and fear that he may fall prey to as well as attacks to his manhood that others may try to piece him with. I can imagine one of the things a man most wants from his wife is to know she will stand up for him and defend him from verbal attacks that others may purposefully or accidentally harass him with. She also cares for that which is important and necessary to him. Traditionally, the wife prepares the meals for her husband. He needs food to survive. She cooks it for him, not only to provide the sustanance he needs, but also in the hopes that it will taste good and he will enjoy it.

A damaged rib injures the body.
If a wife is hurt, physically or emotionally, she needs her husband to care for her and provide the right balm to her injuries. If she is like a broken or loose rib, she needs support to heal. Her injuries can injure her husband; he should have every motivation to care for her.

The rib is protected by the body.
A wife should be protected by her husband. She should not be smothered or kept from doing things, but as the body wraps the rib, the husband’s protection should not be far. She defends him from slander and gossip and attacks to his worthiness and skill. He defends her from physical and emotional and spiritual attacks. He protects her from the rough elements in the world, away from the things which injure her the most. He knows her weaknesses and saves her from being exposed to what triggers them.


The rib and body are entwined, helpful and, by design, necessary for each other. Not to say that people must get married, but these two parts are a beautiful fit for each other. God could have chosen anything to create Eve with. He could have used a lung, a toe, or a fresh patch of dirt. But He didn't. I think the imagery He chose is a beautiful representation of marriage. Just in a simple little bone, God shows us how husbands are to think of their own wives and vice versa.

In thinking of marriage, I remember the instructions God gave through Paul in Ephesians 5:22-33. Yet at the end of this section, Paul writes, "This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church." (Ephesians 5:32) Which, in turn, reminds me of the picture of the Gospel in the reality of Christ as the Bridegroom and the Church as His Bride.

So, thinking about that one little rib all the way back in Genisis led me to the Gospel of Christ. Beautiful!

God's thoughts are complex, and He sees more, far more than we do, in the symbolism He chooses, and He chooses perfectly.

Church Joy

I recently realized that going to church brings me joy once again.

I look forward to attending worship. I long for it all week.

But it wasn’t long ago that I wasn’t this way.

I dreaded what I might find when I attended. My worship was greatly distracted by my fears. I didn’t want to go, but I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. As a Christian I should worship with my brothers and sisters in Christ.

But I felt the distance between my family and myself increasing. I no longer felt like I was home when I arrived for worship. Instead I felt that I had to be on my guard. I wasn’t safe there; I wasn’t protected there; I wasn’t encouraged and revived by the Truth of the Word. I was so afraid of what issues might come up, what discomfort I might experience.

I hated leaving. I did not want to. But I could no longer stay. It just wasn’t an option.

Church isn’t perfect, but it’s supposed to refresh the weary with the Word and with the fellowship of the saints.

I didn’t hear the Word.

I didn’t experience fellowship.

I was alone among the body.

Slowly I was being smothered in my fear and uncertainty and sadness.

Staying was no longer an option. I had to get away. I had to breathe again. I had to focus on God. I needed to be encouraged and to be strengthened and to be comforted.

I simply could not remain.

It broke my heart to leave. I was in agony over the situation and my decision for months. How could this happen? How could I leave? I loved these people. They loved me. But it wasn’t right anymore. It hurt too much to attend. How could I have become so distanced from my family? How could they have left me?

I struggled with my decision. Believe me, I felt cut apart. Where else would I go? I didn’t want to go anywhere else. I wanted to go back home.

But it wasn’t to be.

I visited elsewhere, and I ached. I was desperate to find a new home. I couldn’t float forever; I couldn’t even float for long. I couldn’t take the separation. It was too precious to me to have tight friendships with fellow Christians whom I saw regularly—too precious to be without.

But nothing seemed quite right. A couple times I was nearly ready to just pick a church and say it is my new church. I will park here and get involved. I will make it work. I took it upon myself to not just find a fit but to make one. Well, that didn’t work. It never happened. I did not make a fit. I don’t think I could. God had to place me where He wanted me.

Wow.

I visited my best friend’s church, sort of on a whim. I had nothing better to do. My parents were attending a budding church that met in the evening. But Sunday morning, what was I supposed to do with myself? I was too used to going somewhere; it didn’t seem right to stay home. So I went.

I enjoyed it. I didn’t go to the worship service. I arrived too late for that. Oops. But I went to a Sunday school/Bible study with my twin. The people were friendly, and I liked the preaching that I heard.

So the next week I got up on time and went to the worship service. It was amazing. It was like my dimmer light-switch, which had been getting dark, was suddenly raised to full blast. It was heavenly. I worshiped. I wasn’t afraid. I was refreshed. I was encouraged. I was revived. I was strengthened.

I have gotten myself up early every Sunday since and attended there. Sometimes it’s a little hard. I still don’t know many people well, but I’m building anew. I still have trust issues, and I haven’t thrown myself into the church, like I thought I would. But I look forward to morning worship. And Sunday school after. And seeing friends. And hearing the Word.

I no longer dread attending church. I yearn to be in God’s house. I look forward to worship. I look forward to talking to people. I look forward hearing God’s Word.

Thank you, God! This is your doing. You placed me. It’s still not easy to transition, and I still miss my old home, but I am learning to trust You. You are my Strength. You are my Shield. You are my Protector, Director, Counselor, Comforter. You are my God and always will be. You provide.

Refresher

I want to start using my blog again. I had been thiiis close to convinced to get rid of it after I saved all I'd written, but, being a procrastinator with lots to do, I never did get around to saving all my writings. So I never got around to deleting the blog.

Now I've decided I don't want to. I like the blog format, I'm more likely to use it than to post something meaningful on fb, and I like my blog address. :) Can't help it, that's a factor.

So, here's my refresher. I'm going to start writing and posting again. It's good practice, and it's good for my heart.

I have some ideas of what to put in this blog. Sort of a fresh start with a direction. I imagine I'll put tidbits and quirks and everyday life things in here, but I think I'd like to start a thought of the month. I'll write about the major things that are affecting my life and how they bring me back to God (or how I'm fighting myself and He's asking me to come to Him when I'm running away). Hopefully, if you ever read this, it'll help you and show that you are not alone in doubts, struggles, hopes, dreams, desires, and desperate needs. If you never read this, hopefully God will still be pleased by my efforts to think through what He's orchestrating in my life and in thinking of Him.

God is good. He gives refreshers. May this be one for me and for you.

<>< Christ reigns!

Never Mind the Funk. Go Swing!

What I said about bein' down in the dumps early this semester.. well, it was true, but no longer!

This is my favorite semester so far (um.. out of, like 4..counting this one)! I get to take some fun classes (Writing! and guitar!) and some classes that aren't alltogether too bad. ;-)

And, I'm thiiiiiiss close to deciding both my four year college and major! Yeeehaw!
Anywhos, God is great and He is giving me direction. At first, I really balked at the idea, but it's looking like His way is, after all, the best way. Shocker.

Don't just hang in there; Turn to HIM!!

@~,~~~

Depressed Already???

Or just moody?

I don't know, but even though it's only the second week of school, I just seem to be in a funk. Again. Like the funk I reach after 10-12 weeks of school.

Can I blame it on the weather? (I don't think so.) My school load? Maybe it's a contributor, but the main reason? Ehh. Could it be a cumulative effect hanging around from last semester? That this semester seems more like a continuation from the previous one, and the break in between wasn't enough (or I didn't use it properly)? Possibly. It could also be that I just have a lot to do and a lot that's going on right now; even more than I'm used to from lately. Maybe. I think a large part of it is, as always, a lack of connection. The weird part is I actually have more connection to people from church, both on Sundays and on other days, than I had before.

Do I just have a bad attitude about going to school? Is it really that depressing that I don't have friends in my classes? That I don't see the friends I have when I'm on campus?

I have more questions than I do answers. It just seems that things aren't right, whatever the problem really is, or I'm just way too picky.

Life isn't that bad. I know it's not. Every morning, I wake up, the sky is beautiful, God is on His throne, and the day's work awaits me. I have family, I have friends, I have tasks, and I have breaks. That's not bad. So, maybe this is just an artificial, temporary sadness that has no basis.


I don't know. I just wanted to write this out, my thoughts, my feelings, my worries. Here is where I chose to write it (don't ask me why). But it still amazes me how I can start to feel better, even before this is posted, just by putting my thoughts into the written word instead of only bouncing around inside my head. Maybe it relieves the pressure from inside my brain. After all, I'm filling it up at school, right? It might just get to the point that it has too much inside it at a given time.

I need the Gospel. I need to hear it. I need to read it. I need to proclaim it. It's not a magical chant that makes me feel better, but it is the Good News of life. A written testimony that Christ loves His church, enough not only to die for her, but to raise again and conquer death and sin. And to think that He chose me to be a part of the church, His bride. You think about that. I hope it amazes you and comforts you as it does me. Brothers and sisters, we need to hear the gospel each and every day! We need to tell ourselves the good news! We need to uplift our Christian family by reminding them of the love of Christ! When I think of this, I am humbled, my worries and depression melt away because they can not hold up to the majesty of God. He takes hold of my thoughts.. and changes them.
So, read this, and really read it. Don't just say, "Oh, yeah, a Bible verse. Uh huh, moving on." Stop. Breathe. Read this verse. Think on it.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
-Philippians 4:8

I hope this small clip from God's Word, the Bible, helps you, reminds you of Him. Especially if you recognize yourself in the same funk I was in. This is God's Word.
Is He not marvelous?!!

Mele Kalikimaka!

Well, I just had to put a little post up here before Christmas.

I never would have thought this year would nearly be over so fast. Some things drag on while others zip by.
It's been a great, and a hard, year...
... But you already know that. So I'll just leave a simple wish for you, my few and special readers: May your days be merry and bright, and may your Christmas this year be peaceful.


O come all ye faithful
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him,
Born the King of Angels;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

Sing, choirs of angels,
Sing in exultation,
O sing all ye citizens of heaven above
Glory to God, glory in the Highest
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

Yea, Lord, we greet Thee,
Born this happy morning,
O Jesus! to Thee all glory given.
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O Come, Let Us Adore HIM,
CHRIST THE LORD!


Mele kalikimaka!

1 year and 7 days ago...

I was just looking at a post I wrote 1 year (and seven days) ago. "What do you want to learn?"
Now, at the turn of yet another semester and enrollment for the spring semester, I think it's time to update that list. Here goes:

My old list entailed -- clay pottery, guitar, photography, some form of self defense, how to play the Bodhrán drum, ballroom dancing with flair, story writing skills, Irish language, Hawaiian (Polynesian) language, the hula, and the care, keeping, and training of homing pidgeons.

I think, for my new list I shall start with -- Guitar! (it is my therapy for any time); Spanish (I'm being challenged and having fun in my language class this semester and I'm enrolled in more for next semester); photography, sure; um, and writing, yup; dancing, dancing, dancing, pretty much always valid; yes, Irish and Hawaiian languages (but I'll stick to tackling Spanish for now); um, okay, I'll just say the same old list and see what I can add to it :-P
. . .
Hmm.. maybe this is why I'm having a hard time finding a class(es) to fill that last 3 credit hours I need for next semester... I can't think of what I want to learn, and what I can think of isn't all offered as college classes...
Persisting in my quest for things I want to learn . . .

Better Comedy? How to come up with my own material and line delivery and timing... Improved Juggling Skills. I never did get as far as juggling pins...
Um, I'll have to continue this later. I'm being really stupid right now being up at this time.. I have a test in the morning! How did the time get away from me?!!! oi

learn better time management???

What do you want to learn?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Update on December 3rd, 2007

I should add rock climbing and repelling (off of cliffs, not people) to my list of things I want to learn.

I think I came up with one or two other things, but I can't remember them right now, so.. until then or my next post!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What Is My Swing of Things? What's Yours?

I don't mean to be distant. I don't mean to seperate myself from others.
Or do I?

Sometimes all I want to do is get away from people asking me questions. But at the same time, I want my friends, acting normally, to talk with me and spend time with me.
But I'm always busy. Get up, get going, school, home, lunch, homework with housework, helping work (odds and ends tidbits that occur all the time and take an amazingly long amount of time when they shouldn't), more homework, and housework, a too-long nap (I need it), dinner and unwinding with the TV, get ready for bed, go to bed, day's over, repeat cycle.

I realize that's actually pretty close to what it is for a lot of people, but it seems I can't handle it as well as others. What's your secret? I find myself drifting away from people and I'm not sure what to do. How to better manage my time? Is that possible at this point in life? Do I just need to keep going to find the "swing of things" and find the pattern of this part of life?