Thoughts while Traveling

I am looking out on the city and the biggest snowflakes I have ever seen falling and occasionally stopping to rest on my 7th floor window sill for a brief spell on the way to their demise below.

I opened up my email and found a humorous email.

DOG DIARY
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

I can learn something from my dog.

CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

This morning? I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the
guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.

For now...
Cat

I knew I hated cats..

Stay warm and dry, new York.
__________________________________________________

Although we missed our families terribly this Thanksgiving, we couldn't have been more blessed in the company we found ourselves in. A plethora of cultures, extended family, and walks of life. There were new friendships formed and strengthened, providential meetings that could only have been orchestrated by God, family relationships clearly being restored, sincere and tearful expressions of gratitude, and last but not least, the dueling turkeys.












Good times. Wish we had taken more pictures. We have much to be thankful for this November. I can't even put into words right now all that has happened this past week. I am overwhelmed with God's...interest and love for me. I almost cannot believe it, but I can see His hand so clearly. He doesn't give up on us, even when we start to give up on ourselves.

Overwhelmed by grace...again.

I sure wish we could send some of this rain down to Atlanta.

My faith is being tested. As much as I was prepared to fight unemployment and had "all my ducks in a row", life always throws curve balls. I know people have it a lot worse than me, I simply haven't worked in 2 and a half days and am panicking. The job that was in the bag is now floating again in the universe up for grabs. Although I want desperately to scream "I am the one for the job!" ....reality as a servant of Christ is.. maybe I am not. If I gave that situation to God and left it there, then who am I to go and pick up ownership again? I cannot.

The restlessness of waiting is hard for me. The last 2 days have been quiet. I can appreciate that as a gift. Thankfully, the agency came through and placed me in a menial receptionist job for the day at the last minute. So I threw on some mascara and dashed out to sit here all day, but at least get paid. Hence the blogging on the rainy day in Brooklyn while at work. The manager keeps telling me to read a book, as I will be bored. Right now bored is not the sentiment, I am thankful.

I found myself panicking this morning when there was no work. That lasted about 5 minutes. I allowed myself 5 minutes of self pity.I know where to go. I know who to turn to. Not my emotions, that are as fickle as the R train. Last night at Bible study we talked about our time communing with God, and stopping to pray when we have the inkling, instead of adding it to our daily "to-do" list. That discussion was fresh on my heart, thankfully. I spent some time with God and prayed. That led to listening to the worship music for this coming Sunday. {Explanation: Justin and I have joined the worship team at our church. I am having to learn some of the newer worship tunes out there, as we have been out of that arena for a few years.} That to say, I was lying on the floor with Theo singing my heart out, repeating these words:

Oh no, you never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, you never let go
Through every high and every low
oh no, you never let go,
Lord, you never let go of me...

And in the midst of surrendering, the phone rang. Enough said. Thanks.

I do have much to be thankful for.

The adventures of temping continue...as I wait on you, Father. Your grace is all I need.

I know. I keep changing the page. I think I have too much fun playing with it. As well as a tad too much time on my hands.

Ever fickle in blogger land.

There are times in life when I feel like the purpose of my existence is to defy symmetry, to color wildly outside the lines, and to remove boundaries. Now, I don't always operate this way, just ask my husband who lives with me and gets a huge *** sigh *** from my direction when his coat is not hanging up on the hook... where his coat GOES, I might add. In my personal space, I prefer "organized" madness. The madness still exist, but it has a home. It is when I am in the spaces of others, organized "others" in particular, that I desire to splash some color around all the white and take some sandpaper to the sharp 90 degree angles.

This week the aforementioned rebellious spirit is screaming to get out as I find myself trapped in a white box. I am assisting 4 architects. Architects, I am learning, are incredibly -beyond incredibly... meticulous. (My immediate observation is OCD overload, although that seemed a bit harsh and judgemental.) I am not here to diagnose, just assist. Never have I felt like such a minority. I long to run to exile island for lunch. Question for my only architect type friend, Matt: are you ALL like this? I suppose you have to be to some extent. I get it. I don't have to like it, but I get it.

What comes to mind is a little saying I learned in elementary school. I have a vague memory of my sister and I driving our mother insane repeating this over and over with different voice inflections and voices over and over and over in the back of a mini van. Booth in the middle, reciting the Christmas story.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a rubber room. I died in that rubber room. They buried me deep, deep down, with all the worms and bugs. Bugs? I hate bugs. They make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once... (and so on)

Different strokes, man. I need to get back quickly to the land of the crazies. The white box is making me see double.

Went and saw a new friend play on Friday night. Great guy, unique voice, quite a songwriter, as unashamed as they come. Check out Zach at www.zachwilliams.com

My co-workers just presented me with a lovely card saying goodbye. That was nice.
My last day in student loans. Can't say I am bummed about that. On to new things, as always! I had an interview last night that went swimmingly! Pending a background check, I believe I am in. That feels good. If I do get the job, I am told by the agency that found me the job that I will get every Jewish holiday off. That's just amazingly sweet. Anyone have any plans for Hannukah?

Update on the eye twitch. The bugger lasted for a good 31 hours straight, but was gone when I woke up this morning. It was unfortunately replaced with a headache, but hey, progress is progress.

I just ordered all of my groceries online and they will be delievered to my house between 3 and 5 tommorow. God, I love New York. My favorite part of the experience, (other than walking 10 blocks) was this exerpt of the confirmation email:

You'll know your order has arrived when a uniformed FreshDirect delivery person appears at your door bearing boxes of fresh food.

It's the little things.

I am beginning to feel a freedom in my soul that I haven't felt in a long time. When my circumstances are very unsettled I deal with some intense anxiety at times. This week has been one of those times. But as I am working on the discipline of "taking every thought captive to Jesus" my load lightens with each step. I am longing and desiring to do so when times are settled and easy, instead of only when my heart is in turmoil. Swelling in my heart since yesterday, is a song! Do you know how long it has been since I have had a song in my heart?? Not just in my mind, but seeping into me, penetrating my emptiness and my soul? These words contain my story. They comfort me, they convict me, they fill me with peace and with hope, they connect me to my Maker. Thank you, my Father.

When peace like a river attendeth my way.
When sorrow like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot Thou hast taught me to say,
"It is well, it is well, with my soul".

My sin oh the bliss of this glorious thought.
My sin not in part but the whole
Are nailed to that cross and I'll bear them no more!
Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, O my soul!!

It is well (It is well)
With my soul (with my soul).
It is well, it is well with my soul.

And Lord please haste the day
When my faith shall be sight.
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll.
The trump shall resound
And the Lord shall descend!
Even so, it is well with my soul.

There are little parades everywhere. In the East Village, on 7th Ave. in the Slope, etc., etc. Children and adults alike traipsing around in costumes and giggling. Why is it I have to keep reminding myself it is Halloween?

My eye will not stop twitching. The right one. It has been convulsing for 5 hours straight now, with only seconds here and there of relief. Google led me to an explanation of stress and anxiety. Now there is a revelation. Ha.

I wish I could make it stop, because it is making me so tired and irritated.

Two more days of my current job. Another promising interview tomorrow. I am sure that VICTORY is around the corner. My faith has been really tested this past week. I ask God to reveal the scary corners of my heart and he does it. Ever faithful He is.

It is quite an amazing thing, the discipline of storing His Word in my heart each morning before walking out the door. Everything looks different. People look at me different. Funny thing about that is I don't see myself. I only see them. So why do THEY look at ME different? I must look different. I must look kinder and gentler and more loving and accepting. Fruits of the spirit, you know? I was talking to Todd about that in the elevator today. How we have much more control of how people respond to us than we think we do. Why do we face the same issues from job to job, city to city, house to house? Perhaps because the common denominator is people. And ourselves. And the thick walls that we can build in an instant. We ask for it. Perhaps we should start giving more than receiving. (I sound "cryptic" I am sure, as my old buddy Phil says)

Just think about it. So many times I see pictures rather than words and have a hard time translating them.

I heard a sermon this morning that is sticking with me. A highlight for me? She said, "When you have the Spirit of the Lord living and breathing in you, God MAKES people like you!" I love that. Because it has nothing to do with me but everything to do with WHO is living in me.

This statement was in the context of coming to the Father BOLDLY with our requests, and when we do so only IN THE NAME OF JESUS and only FOR THE GLORY OF JESUS, things that we request (such as God's favor in job interviews, in my case) WILL be done. The secret is the motivation. In recent years I have struggled with this BOLDNESS in my faith. I think because I have a deep understanding of my flesh and my unworthiness. I carry around old sins and baggage I have already been forgiven for. So... I beg God for scraps. "Just" get me by. That is in direct contradiction to what the Word of God says. Don't get me wrong, I do not prescribe whatsoever to the "prosperity" theology and preaching we see so much of these days. However, God is ready to bless us with more. More opportunities, more spiritual insight, more responsibility...

Makes the battle way more intense. But I know for me, for whatever time I have left on this earth, I would rather be fighting an intense battle than chilling out and bored in the trenches.

The eye is still twitching. I need to close it for a while. Heading home to turn off the lights and pretend I am not there, because I don't have any candy to hand out.
Hey, no judgment...the rent had to be paid today and there is nothing left for candy. Dog food?

No, incognito is my costume for the evening.

Vincent Van Gogh has always been one of my favorite artists. I learned once that he was a "tempermental" artist and "tortured soul". I have never taken the time to find out why. More. I read something this morning that stirred not simply curiosity in me, but a deep longing to research and dig into the lives and faith of artists.

I believe God just whispered in my ear. After a while in the desert, I am thirsty.

A quick paraphrase of what I read on the train this morning that captured my heart: At the age of 25, he wanted to preach. He believed he was called to be an evangelist. He had a burning passion for people. He went to the coal mines of southern Belgium. Disaster insued in a mine, and out of that he found himself ministering to an overflowing church of hungry for a message of love. A superior in the church came to visit him and was appauled at his lifestyle and his appearance. He was clothed in rags, lived in a hut, and gave his salary to the people. He was dismissed from the ministry as pitiful and unfit to teach, as he looked worse than the people that he was called to love. He was devastated. He lingered for a while in the village and began to sketch a solitary face.

There is so much more I want to know. I read a few of his letters to his brother, Theo this morning when I got to my destination. This one brought tears to my eyes as I connected on a spritual level with his words. I think you can help me see more clearly, Vincent, through the whispering of the Holy Spirit. I have always been inspired by his colors, his insight, his gift. Now, his words. A traveller that has gone before.

Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh Amsterdam, 30 May 1877

Dear Theo,

Thanks for your letter that arrived today, I am very busy and write in a hurry. I gave your letter to Uncle Jan, he sends you his greetings and thanks for it. There was a sentence in your letter that struck me, “I wish I were far away from everything, I am the cause of all, and bring only sorrow to everybody, I alone have brought all this misery on myself and others.” These words struck me because that same feeling, just the same, not more nor less, is also on my conscience.

When I think of the past, - when I think of the future of almost invincible difficulties, of much and difficult work, which I do not like, which I, or rather my evil self, would like to shirk; when I think the eyes of so many are fixed on me, - who will know where the fault is, if I do not succeed, who will not make me trivial reproaches, but as they are well tried and trained in everything that is right and virtuous and fine gold, they will say, as it were by the expression of their faces: we have helped you and have been a light unto you, - we have done for you what we could, have you tried honestly? what is now our reward and the fruit of our labour?

See! when I think of all this, and of so many other things like it, too numerous to name them all, of all the difficulties and cares that do not grow less when we advance in life, of sorrow, of disappointment, of the fear of failure, of disgrace, - then I also have the longing - I wish I were far away from everything! And yet I go on, but prudently and hoping to have strength to resist those things, so that I shall know what to answer to those reproaches that threaten me, and believing that notwithstanding everything that seems against me, I yet shall reach the aim I am striving for, and if God wills it, shall find favour in the eyes of some I love and in the eyes of those that will come after me.

There is written: “Lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees,” and when the disciples had worked all night and had not caught any fish, they were told “go out into the deep and cast your nets again into the sea.” My head is sometimes heavy and often it burns and my thoughts are confused - I don't see how I shall ever get that difficult and extensive study into it - to get used to and persevere in simple regular study after all those emotional years is not always easy. And yet I go on; if we are tired isn't it then because we have already walked a long way, and if it is true that man has his battle to fight on earth, is not then the feeling of weariness and the burning of the head a sign that we have been struggling? When we are working at a difficult task and strive after a good thing we fight a righteous battle, the direct reward of which is that we are kept from much evil. And God sees the trouble and the sorrow and He can help in spite of all. The faith in God is firm in me - it is no imagination, no idle faith - but it is so, it is true, there is a God Who is alive and He is with our parents and His eye is also upon us, and I am sure He plans our life and we do not quite belong to ourselves as it were - and this God is no other than Christ of Whom we read in our Bible and Whose word and history is also deep in our heart.

If I had only given all my strength to it before, yes, I should have been further now, - but even now He will be a strong support, and it is in His power to make our lives bearable, to keep us from evil, to let all things contribute towards a good end, to make our end peaceful. There is much evil in the world and in ourselves, terrible things, and one does not need to be far advanced in life, to be in fear of much and to feel the need of a firm faith in life hereafter, and to know that without faith in God one cannot live, one cannot bear it. But with that faith one can go on for a long time. When I found myself in front of the corpse of Aerssen the calmness and dignity and solemn silence of death contrasted with us, who still live, to such an extent, that we all felt the truth Of what his daughter said with such simplicity: “he is freed from the burden of life, which we have to go on bearing.”

And yet we are so much attached to the old life, because next to our despondent moods we have our happy moments when heart and soul rejoice, like the lark that cannot keep from singing in the morning, even though the soul sometimes sinks within us and is fearful. And the memories of all we have loved stay and come back to us in the evening of our life. They are not dead but sleep, and it is well to gather a treasure of them. A handshake and write soon to Your loving brother, Vincent

Things I have learned of the Big Apple since my emergence:

NY is the most environmentally conscious place I have ever lived.

One can exist in a city of millions... and be lonely.

Beware of most "street meat" except for Rafiqui's on Park & 57th.

The big and scary "NYC" gets smaller the more days I walk the streets.

Everything is later. People get to work later, stay later, and eat dinner late. Not working for me. I am putting on weight like a sumo wrestler, regardless of the 2 miles walking every day.

Having your groceries delivered is not lazy. Its just smart.

Relying solely on public transportation is teaching me patience.

I need to join an online book club. I can't feed my reading habit fast enough with the hour commute to work.

Although I can hold my own on Madison Ave., the breath I take when getting off the train in Brooklyn at the end of the day is...deep.

My husband has never seemed more alive. I love that.

"When religion has said its last word, there is little we need other than God Himself. The evil habit of seeking 'God-and' effectively prevents us from finding God in full revelation. And in the 'and' lies our great woe. If we omit the 'and' we shall soon find God, and in Him we shall find that for which we have all our lives been secretly longing. We need not fear that in seeking God only we may narrow our lives or restrict the motions of our expanding hearts. The opposite is true. We can well afford to make God our All, to concentrate, to sacrifice the many for the one."

AW Tozer

I never thought I would reach the age when all my friends were having babies. For that matter, I STILL wonder if I will ever reach the age when I will have a baby myself. I suppose I thought that Jesus would come back before then or I would kick the bucket for sure! Who knows? It's sure not penciled into the plans as of yet.

To each his own.

I do love other people's babies!

Pro-creation sure is in the water lately among my peers.

Selena finally pushed out EVAN last Friday
Christie popped out JONAS last week as well
Joy will be introducing JUSTICE into the ATL any day
Katie is well on the way to producing the twins KEAGAN and ROWAN
By the end of the summer, Caroline will implant another girl in the house

Blessings galore for all my girls- Auntie Anna can't wait to spoil them all
and fingerpaint until we pass out!

Reflections on the arts and a horse named Seabiscuit
by Dick Ryan


My heart has been broken time and again by seeing the hurt and pain that many of my artistic friends have experienced!

The first time I saw the movie Seabiscuit, I wept so hard that I had to leave my seat and go to the back of the theater so I wouldn’t annoy the people around me.

For those who are not familiar with it, this commercial Hollywood release tells the true story of an undersized, abused, not-very-good-looking racehorse with a serious leg injury that became, many believe, the most famous horse of the twentieth Century. Tobey Maguire played Red Pollard, the half-blind jockey who was really too big to ride horses successfully. Jeff Bridges played the owner, and Chris Cooper played Seabiscuit’s trainer. The lives of all three men were as damaged and abused by the world as that of the horse.

But why did I weep? What was it about this movie that dug into my emotions so deeply? Part of my visceral reaction might be personal: There are times when I myself feel like a broken-down old horse, not fit to run races any more. More important: I’ve known so many talented people who have led lives full of defeat. I’ve known many fine artists who were designed by God to be racers but were turned into plow horses by our often hostile arts world. They were told that they didn’t “measure up” to the world’s expectations. As a result, their careers, their hearts and even their lives were often thrown into the trash. This is why I wept! Does life have to be this way?

I wept because God gives His children beautiful gifts with a plan attached—a good plan that shows each of us how God wants these gifts to be used. But many artists miss out on this plan of God. Jeremiah recorded the Lord as declaring, "For I know the plans I have for you . . . plans to give you hope and a future" (29:11). I believe with all my heart God’s promise is true. Why, then, do so few artists “walk” in these truths?

Several times in the movie, when a horse or a person was close to being thrown away because they didn’t measure up, first one character and then others repeated: “Why throw away a life because it’s a little banged up?” When an abused and confused and angry young Seabiscuit literally could not run in a straight line, the wise old trainer quietly said: “He’s forgotten how to be a horse. Let’s give‘m his head. Let him run through the country until he wants to stop—let him go. Let’s see what he’s got.”

Here is the deepest reason that I was so moved. Just as Seabiscuit was allowed to race, our artists need a new day: a day to run full out, to be all that God designed them to be! Seabiscuit is about hope, and we are entering a new day of hope for artists, newly enabled to race as God designed them to, each with the freedom to be the unique person our Lord had in mind when He gave us our gifts. I believe that the day has begun when artists will be free to have a second and a third and a hundredth chance to not have their dreams “thrown away” because they don’t measure up to the perfection of the world on their first try.

Hope is the most necessary of our artistic tools. Hope is what allows us to rewrite and experiment until our work and our lives are filled with real truth and real beauty. Hope is among the most essential gifts God gives us. It is a belief that God has a valuable purpose and meaning for our lives. Hope is about us, God’s people, being redeemed and transformed.

And my heart is filled with exquisite joy as I dream about God’s artistic gifts being used in new and wonderful ways, both inside and outside the Church. I see the beginning of the day when all the many forms of art are employed at the very highest quality levels to communicate God’s truth and beauty to this hurting world. Whether Christians are working at major network television headquarters in New York or playing in the top symphonies or teaching music in grade school or writing fiction and poetry or leading worship in Church—I see them doing it all for God’s glory, just as God designed each of us to do.

How will this amazing arts-world transformation happen? There can only be one answer: God himself has to do it! In His sovereign mercy, God is first restoring the hearts of artists. Once restored, He will show them how to walk in His power to accomplish His dream for each of their lives.

The bottom line of transformation is always belief. Is it really true that we can turn to Him and allow Him to confront and destroy the lie that the arts and our lives are of little importance? Yes, we can. We can have this centuries-old lie eliminated from our lives, and it is starting to happen already. Artists are beginning to again believe that God yearns to work in every corner of their lives—even their art—and are receiving new freedom as a result.

Isaiah 62:10 says, “Pass through, pass through the gates! Prepare the way for the people. Build up, build up the highway! Remove the stones. Raise a banner for the nations.” I believe that the time has come for God to show us how to “remove the stones” that have blocked so many artists from the life that God has planned for them. “Removing the stones”—the lies we have believed about God, the arts and ourselves—will result in our hearts being remade so that we can once again “run free.”

I can’t pretend that I know all the answers about how this transformation process occurs, but I know that one enormous factor is the creation of communities—real communities—open and witnessing communities that are safe places for Christian artists to be themselves. As the trainer said about Seabiscuit, “He needs to learn how to be a horse again.” Our artists need to learn to run and race and dance and sing and pray in a safe place, a place of healing and genuine encouragement and truth. We need to give them the time to learn what the world has tried to steal from them: to learn how to integrate their Christianity and their artistic lives. Each one needs to recover the true knowledge of God’s identity and who we are as His children and as His artists.

So, let’s return to the reasons why I was so deeply affected by a Hollywood movie about a racing horse named Seabiscuit. The personal part of my passionate reaction is very real. I can honestly admit to being a broken man who has lost much. But I can stand tall before you today and say: “God is good, and God is merciful!” This truth is what I want to be formed in the hearts of all artists!

The world said that Seabiscuit’s owner, jockey, trainer and the horse itself were losers—of no importance. The world has been saying that for hundreds of years about those of us who are artists, too. But I believe that a new day is dawning, a day when we will run very important races, when we will “press on” to the prize of showing the world through the arts something of God’s glory and mercy.

Pray that it may be so! Then some of us will weep with joy!


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Yesterday I heard the word "bamboozled" a total of four times.

That was peculiar, I thought. I don't even know if that is a real word.

Then, after a long day I slumbered and dreamt of very strange things. Like a herd of elephants walking through my workplace, led by my gregarious and loud mouth boss, who ironically was returning today from a business trip to Las Vegas. I am not a dream analyzer myself, however I would venture to say that this image is a telling one of my feelings toward her.

Life is looking different lately. I am grateful and humbled when I look and see before me a kicked open door. I look ahead and I hope. In a sermon I heard a few weeks ago, "Hope" was described as one of the three "sisters", sandwiched in between "Faith" and "Love." Words that incidentally are thrown around these days like a football in a half hearted pick-up game on a Saturday afternoon.

"Hope", like many middle children, is sometimes displaced and unsure of it's identity.
We treat it as such. I know I have. Hope, I realized, is something I don't cling to very often.

I want to learn how to do that more.

When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and I get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious, I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer.

To live bt grace means to acknowledge my whole life's story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side, I learn who I am and what God's grace means. As Thomas Merton put it, "A saint is not someone who is good but who experiences the goodness of God."

~ "For them I santify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified." John 17:19

Praying that Sarah-Bo gets home for Christmas...

It is almost Christmas. Time flies, man.

My sister is in the hospital and in pain. Prayers for her- I love you, Sarah bo.
My brother is in transition - prayers for him. Love to you, too.
My grandparents are in a final major transition of life- Prayers for them.

I don't know whats going on in the grand scheme of my own life, except that my Father still sits on the throne and IS LOVE. That means there is no reason to fear or worry- right?

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:29

One would think that the sting of rejection would gradually decrease time after time.

It doesn't.

Your Dominant Thinking Style: Visioning

You are very insightful and tend to make decisions based on your insights. You focus on how things should be - even if you haven't worked out the details. An idealist, thinking of the future helps you guide your path. You tend to give others long-term direction and momentum.

I work at a newspaper. Every December the newsroom has a massive book sale that makes me happy. They purge and those of us that dare, indulge. Today was the day. I walked down the hall with nostalgic thoughts of one my favorite days in elementary school known as the book fairs. These mentioned book fairs could have very well been the start to my shopping addiction, now that I think about it. Anyway, my purchases include a total of 4 hardback novels that sparked my interest, as well as 3 CD's that looked promising, a tiny Christmas book for a special kid in my life, and last but not least another cool and obscure book that is destined for a specific individual who will remain nameless due to the surprise element of the Christmas season. Justin has rubbed off on me, I suppose. Surprises aren't totally bad.

The grand total for all my treasures? A whopping $11. Love that. Sarah would be so proud.

I have been sitting here reading one of these books and had to stop. I have been struck and wanted to write it down so I don't forget. Written by Catherine Ryan Hyde, the novel is called Love in the Present Tense. It has a picture of a kid jumping off a cliff after some birds. It's a beautiful picture, and that is probably the reason it appealed to me in the first place. The visual learner in me can't be pursuaded to change. Good thing the writing is agreeable. I am engrossed already in the story and more, these characters that have stolen my heart. This story would make a great play or screenplay.

Anyhow, my stopping place that nudged me here was a description of Leonard, a motherless, fatherless kid who is so different he makes everyone around him ponder his existence.

"He just has this thing about transcendence. Doesn't want too many earthbound connections... That's Leonard's approach to life itself. He refuses to unpack."

Man, if that little piece of fiction doesn't make me stop and ponder not only Leonard's existence, but my own...

Please excuse me, I think I have a bit of packing to do.

Work is slow as molasses and believe it or not, I have run out of things to "google." It's funny to me as this word is a widely used verb.

Dear blogger, I feel numb these days. I wish I felt a little more passionate about, well, anything. I am not sure what I feel or where I am headed. Kathy's handwriting I have framed as saying, "Cling to what you know, and not what you feel." She wrote this to me during my summer in Zambia, while in the throws of grief and despair and searching for signs of my Creator (I found Him, by the way).

It is now years later, and I am reciting this to myself still.

As mentioned before, I am not exactly busy this day. Earlier, I took a curious look back at blogs past, not sure what I would find. All the way back to February, 2004 when tangosandflowers was birthed. Wow, has it been that long? Time flies, I say. Many twists and turns, victory's and defeats, growth galore... and friend's unmatched.

So I take this prime opportunity to evaluate. Rather than sitting on my arse waiting for the phone to ring and mindlessly surfing the web, I challenge myself to ponder.

What are the things that I know?

I am going to fight any urge to do this methodically, and just let it flow as it will- rhyme and reason set to the side.

1. I am still alive. There must be a reason for that.
2. I am blessed with a partner in this journey that ages like a fine wine, in every way. I still sometimes look at you in total wonder that you are mine.
3. I am still teachable.
4. I continue to be forgiven and redeemed. My God is one of second chances, and I can't fathom how much grace that actually takes.
5. Faith and strong values were instilled in me as a child when I was hardly paying attention. As an adult looking back, I appreciate this more than they will ever know.
6. It really is a rare thing to find true character and integrity in this world that we live in. I know this sad truth, but believe that one day...all will be revealed.
7. Hindsight really and truly is 20/20.
8. Family is THE most important thing. If we can't count on each other, even concerning the hard and "untouchable" things, what's the use? Really.
9. God really does care enough to weave in and out of our lives the hearts that are needed to move us forward. I am eternally thankful and grateful for this truth.
10. All things really do work together for good...(and the important part) for those who love God and are called according to His purpose.
11. Diversity begs to be embraced.
12. Vulnerability does not come as easy as it used to. Help.
13. No mountain is too steep.
14. Moments are so important.
15. Every day is an opportunity.

Thanks, Kathy. I miss you, you know. My life is still carrying on here, and I am remain clinging to the things that I know and walking with that knowledge at a steady pace. Perhaps too steady. Stepping on the gas a bit wouldn't hurt.

The clock is showing 4:37pm and I am almost free from what us girls affectionately call the "sweat shop" for the weekend. I am exhausted. My thoughts as I embark on 2 days of unscheduled time?

-My house is a wreck.
-My dog is attention deprived.
-My husband probably is, too.
-I need to get into the Christmas spirit.
-That's hard when it's 80 degrees outside on December 1st. Fine if you are in Florida.I moved north for a reason. Seasons are supposed to occur.
It's supposed to get cold again tomorrow.
-We need to get a Christmas tree.
-I hope Theo will not eat it
-Tomorrowwe should do that.
-After cleaning the house.
-We need to go on a date.
-tomorrow?

Various memories of the week:

-News of no babies. That's good for now.
-Monday evening I was working on a recording and got through the 2nd piece and puked all over the place about 10 seconds after the last note.
-Soon after the 1st bout, I ended up lying on the nasty bathroom floor of the academy of music in Justin's lap wishing I could die and come back to life when it was over.
-Finishing the grueling process on Thursday and sleeping well thereafter.
-Standing in the UPS store and asking the guy for the envelopes back, laying my hands on it and praying while he stared.I told him why.Maybe he will remember that?
Small opportunities.
-Hearing the fabulous news that more wedding planning is in the near future, which makes me very excited. Congrats to our dear firends Todd and Lindsey, I love love love you and am so excited for you.





My heart is full. My head and my body are ready to hibernate.

Psalm of the day: "Wait, I say, wait on the Lord." Psalm 27:14

I survived the ice capades. Made it around 3 times and only fell twice. However, I must confess that there was never a moment where I wasn't attached firmly to another human body, clInging for dear life. That's ok, you know- we all have our issues...Thanks to Justin & Thomas for being my bodyguards, and tripping the snotty kid that rolled by nonchalantly as I was sprawled out on the ice and screamed, " Have a nice Fall?"

Theo was barking his really big & scary bark non-stop this morning as I was drying my hair. I realized that it wasn't his usual random and short lived burst that happens when our neighbor pulls out his motorcycle. This was rediculous, he was barely letting up to breathe! I walked out into the hallway and saw him looking towards the kitchen stove. The hair on his back was raised and he was ready to take action.

Then I heard the whistle of the tea kettle. Since I had the hair dryer in my ear I hadn't heard it at all. I had a good giggle at him taking it so seriously and gave him a big hug and a treat for protecting the Street household. That kettle monster could have gotten me, man!

My hero... I love that kid.