The Eve of Christmas...

Okay, alright, I didn't finish The Torrents of Spring in two days like I anticipated I would. It got a little slow, so I took a day off. Then I finished it just now. 

Ernest, I do really love many and most of your works, and although I did enjoy reading The Torrents, I didn't fancy the ending. It was just kind of...blah. Oh well, you have a good record with me, so my view of you has not changed.

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It's Christmas Eve, and it's RAINING! For the first time in a week and a half, I can hear water actively flowing through the gutter. It's a joyous thing to see and hear, especially after being stuck in the house for so long, bound by freezing/snowy conditions and incapable, two-wheel drive cars. CRASH!!! (As I'm typing on my bed next to my window on the second floor, a huge sheet of snow just slid off of our roof). For a while, I dreamt of a white Christmas, but after this last week, I'm dreaming of a rainy one.

Although, I must say, I truly do not have anything to grumble about. In Portland, when it snows, the whole city kind of shuts down. Maybe all this weather is a good thing, holding people inside and stopping all the frantic craziness that often plagues the Christmas holiday which is supposed to celebrate peace. Instead of rushing out the door today for practice for our Christmas Eve service at church (which was cancelled), I've been able to just relax and enjoy my family. Instead of spending crazy amounts of money for entertainment purposes over the last week, my brother and I simply walked everywhere (friends' houses, the post office, church, the mall, Target). The snow is wearing me out a bit, but I am also thankful for the last week of rest I've had. 

...

Snow day and Hemingway...

Here I am. Housebound for the seventh day in a row. Well, I shouldn't say completely housebound because I managed to make it to the church Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday night, and on Wednesday Elliot and I, eager and desperate to do something other than watch the snow fall, walked four miles to a friend's house. But today, Sunday, church was cancelled again and the snow is still here. Quite beautiful, yes, but also confining. I was once sick in bed for a week and at the end of the week, my leg muscles felt a bit sore and stiff from not moving for so long. My legs feel the same today.

So, I am here. Snuggled up in bed, looking out on our neighbor's back yard blanketed in snow. Two days ago, after realizing that I had done nothing of great importance during the week inside my house besides making cookies and spending quality time with family, I decided I would commit to reading and finishing a book every two days (as long as I'm housebound, that is). So, I started Ernest Hemingway's The Torrents of Spring yesterday and will probably finish it today. It's a quick read, but, as usual, I just love Hemingway's witty nonsense that seems to weave its way into all of his books. I just love him. Although, I have found wise not to recommend his books to others whom I have not yet known well. Some people love him at first read, but others, often the people who I recommend him to, seem to find him quite dull and pointless. More for me, I guess.

Elliot just walked in and threw the idea out that we should walk to the mall, or a coffee shop, or any place outside of this house. Sounds glorious to me.

Scatterbrained 3

I woke up this morning to a lovely four inches of snow blanketing the ground outside. I am home for the holidays in Portland now, and it was such a pleasant surprise to wake up and see a kind of Winter wonderland out my window. I gazed out my window for quite a while before forcing myself out from under my warm covers and heading downstairs for some breakfast.

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I just love Portland. Being away for three months was tough--tougher than I ever expected it to be. I saw sides of my internal self that had never been exposed--those parts that only show their face when one is thrown into circumstantial extremes. Being in a place of comfort is easy. It's easy to grow spiritually. It's easy to feel that feeling of belonging. It's easy to feel that life is solidly moving along and is sure. Yet, through being away, I have grown, grown, grown, and grown some more in ways that being comfortable could not have done.

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I love being home. It's home. It's Portland. It's where my heart is. Yet, I'm realizing that I do miss my friends. My USEM class, as I've raved about before, was/is just so amazing. We were all stretched incredibly in ways that resulted in change for the better. Each person was/is so unique and only adds to the fun of the group. They are going to be missed in my heart.

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Listen to Joanna Newsom. She's amazing. She may take some getting used to, and her stuff is kind of an acquired taste. But, if your taste allows, she's great. Download "Peach, Plum, Pear" or "Sprout and the Bean."

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This summer I'm going to Avena's house. Okay, Avena? Okay. It's settled then. Oh, and I'm also going to Ukraine with Diana. Okay, Diana? Your dad said so. Okay. It's settled then.

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Oh, because of the snow, we didn't think it would be smart to drive, so my mom, two of my brothers, and I walked the two miles to church. It was great fun.

Three days in a row!!

Pitter patter. Pitter patter. Pitter patter. 

For the third day in a row, by some miraculous happening, I have timidly walked up to the third floor of the library, unsure of whether or not I would find what I was looking for, and have been stunned and delighted to find a "big table" unoccupied. I was unsure today especially because as I walked passed the first and second floor, it seemed that every seat in the house was taken by some intensely studying college student. But, being the conditioned Ashton resident that I am*, with a little faith and hope, I ventured to the top and received my reward with great satisfaction. 

Now, I am sitting comfortably (the chairs on the third floor have great back support), overlooking the campus as the rain coming down in sheets pitter patters on the tall windows. The shoot of deep green leaves springing from the tree next to the library (that I spoke of in my last entry) is still deep green, and the rest of the tree is still a brownish-yellow, and I still have to study for finals.

I'm going to study hard for the next few hours, then at 4:30, I am meeting with my USEM group to work on our Christmas medley that we will be presenting on Thursday as our final. Each group has been assigned to arrange a medley of holiday tunes, using our own musical skill, and notating the whole piece. Fortunately, their is a wide variety of instruments my group can play (saxaphone, flute, cello, guitar, piano, mandolin), so it has made working on this final project quite fun, and it really hasn't felt like work at all. AND, the people I was assigned to work with are simply amazing and the creative juices that flow when we're all together are wonderful.

Alright, watch out, Chemistry! I will conquer you!

Two days in a row!

In the midst of this over-populated, yet beautiful, campus, I have found that the one place I can study and be most focused for long periods of time is on the third floor of the library at the "big tables". I can spread all my papers and books across it, while overlooking the campus and still having room for my Starbucks--although if I was in Portland it would be Stumptown--coffee. Other people must feel the same way because it is not often that there are any tables open. Yet, today, among the myriads of cramming students, when the library is filled from morning to morning, I was blessed with a big table. And for the second day in a row! 

Fall is beautiful. But then there's that period where not all the leaves have fallen, but have turned brown, and are still clinging for dear life, or death, to the trees' branches. It's that "in between" stage for Fall and Winter, and it's quite gloomy. There's one tree outside of the window I'm sitting by that is covered in yellowy-brown leaves that are just yearning to fall off. Yet, at the very tippy-top of the tree, there's one shoot that has about ten deep green leaves attached to it. Either it didn't get the Autumn memo or it has past Winter and gone straight to Spring. Who knows...

I am quite thrilled for Christmas break. I've committed to myself to finish three books I have been "reading" for about two months (The Pursuit of God, The Saving Life of Christ, and Silas Marner). I have always loved reading, but doing it as a hobby seems to slow down while I'm in school. There's always that paper that could be touched up, that chapter for chemistry that could be read, that presentation that could be perfected, and reading for luxury seems to get in the way of academics. So, I will have about a month in December/January to finish these books--and they are worth finishing!

Okay. Back to Russian plurals...

Random Thoughts for Today...

The sky is black outside and it is only five o'clock in the evening. And until February twenty-first, it will only be getting darker earlier and earlier. I am sitting at a table on the third floor of the SPU library with my notebooks, textbooks, and Russian notecards scattered across the tabletop--finals week is here! 

Last night my University Seminar class went out to the Cheesecake Factory downtown, and it was lovely. Downtown Seattle is just ethereal during Christmas time. The trees are covered in lights, the street performers are delighting the ears of those who pass by with Christmas melodies, and it's just crisp and cold enough to produce rosy cheeks. I felt so delighted as my friend Avena and I walked, arm in arm, up and down the sidewalks just enjoying the night.

After the Cheesecake Factory, about eighteen of us all headed over to our mentor's house, packed like sardines in two (small) cars, which were each made to hold only five. We played a few games and just enjoyed being together. I felt/feel so blessed to be with people who I feel like I've known for a lot longer than two months. The ease I feel around them is the same ease I felt after spending five years with the same eighteen people in high school. Except I've only been with my USEM group for two months.

Being a college freshman, it can often be hard to truly connect with people and get a sense of family. Obviously, meaningful relationships take time, and being thrown into a place where no meaningful relationships have been built yet can be tough. Upon arrival, no one knows you, you know no one, and home becomes sort of a place of longing. Yet eventually, relationships begin to develop, and that feeling of having no true interpersonal relationships begins to die away. It is true that there is no place like home, but last night, I felt like I was around family. The pro's in me moving home greatly outweigh the cons, but leaving the people I am just getting to know is definitely one of the cons. It makes me sad to leave such a talented and diverse group of people, but I have a feeling that the friendships that have developed here will go beyond my stay here...

Now, I dive into the rules for making Russian nouns plural. Molitess o tom, chto ya dobitsya uspeka ve finale ne!

Contemplations...

Such an unfamiliar place. 

Yet, over time, that unfamiliarity is what becomes a place of familiarity in the heart.

So many great adventures.

And friendships that could have been.

And little undiscovered coffee houses and thrift stores.

And the Vintage mall.

But awaiting me is something I feel I am called to.

Peace that passes all understanding.

Easier? No.

More familiar? Yes.

Am I sad for leaving?

Yes.

Am I happy for leaving?

Yes.

Am I excited that this is part of His journey for me?

Ecstatic.

Ecstatic that oftentimes His voice rings louder than those who may be pressuring me to stay.

"Those" implying extended family and parts of my heart.

What an adventure life is.

Holding.

I am currently typing away with my phone volume on "HIGH" next to my computer. 

This last Friday, as I was driving home from Seattle in the rainy weather, I went to press on the breaks, my car slid, and I rammed the person in front of me. My car, besides its cracked battery and dented bumper, is fine. The car I hit, a red 2008 Jetta, hit the Ford F-150 in front of it, and its hood kind of crinkled like aluminum.

I have now been on hold with Allstate for about twenty minutes to file a claim. Every thirty seconds or so, a woman's voice interrupts the elevator-like music with, "Your call is important to us. A representative will be with you as soon as possible. Please do not hang up. Please remain on the line. Thank you." 

You're welcome.

Last night I got thirteen hours of sleep. Amen.

My thoughts today...

Ah, the end of the weekend. 

For some reason I thought I was superwoman last week and stayed up until 1 a.m. (at least) every night. Tuesday through Thursday my body was quite fine with it. But when Friday rolled around, so did that burnt out, sick feeling. Now it's Sunday evening, and although I just took a two-hour nap, my throat still has a lump stuck in it. I think in these next few days, I'll try and live off of fruits, veggies, and Odwalla Monster-C and Superfood drinks...

Seattle is ever so slowly growing on me. For me, there is really no place like home. Portland is just so great because it has a great downtown life, yet in a fifteen-minute drive, there are wide open country spaces. The beach is an hour away. The mountain is an hour away. It's clean. It's green. The coffee is amazing. It's familiar. So in moving up here, I have felt a little bitter against Seattle because there is just so much city. And gray. And car exhaust. And traffic. And unfamiliarity.

Yet, ever so slowly, I'm beginning to like this place for what it is. Last night I had dinner at my aunt and uncle's house, which is but ten minutes from campus. It was so consoling to be in a real house with real food and a real fireplace. I think I'll be heading over there more often then not.

Ooh! On Friday I bought the full Jon Foreman EP collection for five bucks at a cd resale store in Fremont. I am quite thrilled.

College.

It's been a bit of a stretch. No, it's been a LOT of a stretch. But most of the best lessons are not learned through easy sailing. Many of the best lessons are learned through tough trial, frustration, some confusion, and, often, tears. So far, all four have taken place, and I hope I'm better for it. 

There are many good things I have moved away from in coming here--a  dear church family who loves me and encourages me; a mom who seems to put to words in just the right way all of my confusing ponderings of the day; new, budding friendships that not only challenge my faith, but drive me to become a better person; a place--home--where I feel safe and unguarded; ongoing opportunities to use my gifts in ways that glorify God; and many others. And it would seem, looking back on the last two and a half weeks, that this place I've come to now has countered everything good left back at home--I'm here with what seems to be no connections to a corporate church family who is as precious to me as what I have at home; instead of outwardly processing my day with my mom who I feel quite safe with, my ponderings are left alone and somewhat burried inside my labyrinthine head, only to come bursting out at inopportune times like a pent up volcano; I am now left with, other than my car, no personal space to relax (I, being a naturally introverted person, thrive off of personal alone time); I now seem to be viewed as a simple and confused "high school graduate at a big university" by those around me, that being all that's expected of me, where before, I was held to a higher standard of living by my peers and mentors, which didn't make me think higher of myself or elevate myself (because really, I am nothing and am only useful as a tool in the hand of God), yet made me push forward to improve who I was. Like I said, it would SEEM that this place I've come to now has removed all of the "good" things that have been left back at home.

Yet, in the last few days, after a two or three days of frustrations and complaints to God about my uncomfortable state, I've realized how short-sighted my reasoning is. Not only is it a fine privilege for me to be cast into a melting pot of new and uncomfortable circumstances, but to be in a place where I am stripped of all familiar surroundings is a complete joy:

"Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."

"I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength."

That I would be chosen to go through such testing, and as a result, come out a better person, sharpened and trained in ways that familiarity cannot touch, is, to me, a blessing.

Of course, this positive attitude isn't by my own inward stirrings. It is only by the strength which comes from God, who is quite gracious.

Christmas time is coming...

Leave it up to America to start setting up Christmas decorations in September. I have always found it hilarious how the day after one big holiday, decorations for the next big holiday will line the racks of department stores. For instance, the day after Thanksgiving, it seems that red and green are the only colors that can be found in Macy's, or even Rite Aid. Or, the day after New Years, there are entire aisles dedicated to pink and red hearts and chocolate at Safeway. It's just madness, it is! 

Although, I must say, I am more excited for Christmas this year than I think I've ever been. Maybe it's because I'm moving up to Seattle. If you've ever been in downtown Seattle during the Christmas season, you'll understand the grounds for my excitement. It's a mess of ethereal and burly joy, with the huge Christmas trees, and the lights that line the windows of small restaurants off of Pike Place Market. There's just a busy glow about the city, and there's really nothing like it, except (maybe) Christmas in NYC. I have been to NYC a few times, but never in the Winter, so I can only speculate that it would be better simply because NYC always seems to be better than everywhere else during other seasons...

Oh Christmas, do come soon!

Watch this video. It's worth two minutes of your time:

http://www.adventconspiracy.org

Change is coming...

Well I am but two weeks away from relocating to Seattle, which will be my home for nine-month segments for the next four years. I'm feeling a great mix of emotions--excitement, for my brain to be challenged in ways that, I'm sure, it never dreamed of; sadness, for having to leave many quality people who I am just getting to know; anticipation, for this life of mine that is slowly unfolding, for the infinite possibilities, for what God has planned, for being on my own; reluctance, to leap off the edge of the cliff of dependence; fear, for the unknown; joy, that God has made it quite clear, as of now, as to where I should be; gratitude/appreciation, towards all the people who have been part of turning my life around in ways they will probably never understand.

There are so many changes that are about to take place. I feel as if I'm at a stop light, eagerly waiting for the light to turn green. It could be five seconds. It could be three minutes. But when that light turns green, I'll be off...

Oh, and I have recently been quite inspired to start using my camera more often. About once a month, I will hear the call of the clarion to go out and just take pictures, usually occurring on days when I head downtown. The other 29 days of the month, I just stare at it sitting on my desk. Yet, in these last few weeks of being home, I seem to be missing out on many shots which could have been candid. So, dear PowerShot, I vow now to use you more often than not.

Scatterbrained 2

Many things in life are quite bewildering.

Why do things of such delicacy and beauty have to die away so quickly?

There was so much excitement. So much that went into the plan.

Now disappointment. Sadness. Confusion.

No one could have predicted what was to come this afternoon.

Something I would never want to go through.

But what is happiness without sadness?

Awakening without falling asleep?

Finally destroying the ring without experiencing all the evils of what would have been had the ring not been destroyed?

Life is a hard thing. And a glorious one. And a painful one. And a lovely one.

Hmm.

But who am I to even comment on something of such anguish?

I'm sobered by the fact that she is probably in the worst pain of her life.

And what am I to do? Pray? Yes. 

Bewildering...

Some Quotes...

I have recently been reading through the book entitled The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, a sort of Catholic saint from the seventeenth century. The book is a compilation of Lawrence's conversations with and letters to other saints, as well as his ways of living and some spiritual principles. Besides the fact that I am greatly enjoying the many Old English phrases, the content of the book has proven to be quite beneficial to my every-day living. Here's a few quotes from the book so far:

"Thoughts spoil everything. All evil begins there. We must take care to set them aside as soon as we observe them not to be necessary for the task of the moment or for our salvation, so that we can begin again our converse with God, wherein is our only good." (p. 24)

"We should in all confidence ask for his grace without regard to what we think, relying only on the infinite merits of our Lord." (p.29)

"It" is "enormous self-deception to believe that the time of prayer must be different from any other." (p. 29)

"We are to be pitied for being satisfied with so little. God...has boundless treasures to give us, and" yet "a moment's sense of devotion is enough for us! We are blind who so bind the hands of God, and we stem the abundance of his grace. When he finds a soul imbued with living faith, into it he pours grace on grace, a flowing stream, as it were, which, checked in its proper course, and finding a new outlet spreads wide with force, abundantly." (p.36)

"At supper and in the midst of conversation, lift your heart at times towards him. The smallest remembrance will always please him. It is not needful at such times to cry aloud. He is nearer to us than we think." (p.41)

Impression.

Why can't I speak like a human being? I'm such an idiot. Replaying the words in my head dozens of times did no good when the moment finally came. Object-Verb-Preposition-Predicate-Indirect Object. Easy enough, right? Instead, I had to mess it all up into a "Preposition-Verb-Indirect Object-Predicate-Object" mess of jumbled and mispronounced  words, which made no sense to even me. I was supposed to say, "How are you?" not "You are woh?" 

Yes, that is the description of my ability to have a terrible first impression, and second impression, and third impression, and fourth impression, and fifth impression, and sixth impression, and, now today, a seventh impression. 

Fortunately, I have a family at home that loves me for who I am. 

Pedestals.

I have always found it intriguing how people put other people on pedestals. Sometimes the pedestals are pedestals of admiration, like a well-accomplished musician, a hero, a pastor, or a movie star. Other times, they are pedestals of intimidation or fear.

Through my high school years, there was one teacher in particular who always seemed to intimidate my fellow class mates. They would say things like, "I really don't agree with the way he graded my final, but I wouldn't dare confront this teacher about it." Even other teachers would instill this attitude in the students by saying things like, "Oh, you'll never be able to talk to him about it. He's a brick wall." And people believed and lived by this sort of fear for him.

I've always been taught to see people as people, whether they are a homeless person, a small child, or the president of the United States. So, with this particular teacher, I never saw how other people thought he was so intimidating. If I had a problem with him, I would schedule an appointment with him and work it out. If I didn't agree with his teaching style or something he said, I would voice my opinion in a respectful manner and be done with it. 

There have only been a few times when a person has made me intimidated enough to somewhat fear them and feel like I could just shrink in their presence. The first person was Chris Thile--only the most talented mandolin player my ears have ever had the opportunity to hear. I went to a Nickel Creek (the band he's in) concert, and afterwards, met him. I think I said something like, "Uh, you, uh, um, cool. I mean, I like, er, uh, your skills. Mandolin, I mean. Cool mandolin skill you have." He just chuckled and signed my cd. I probably replayed those stupid lines of mine in my head about a million times before I finally forgave myself for blowing my one chance to impress the mandolin god. I worshipped the ground he played [mandolin] on and for a few years, he was my hero. The songs he has written are just so dense and packed full of depth. They're like books that can be read over and over, while still bringing forth something new and undiscovered each time they're read through. 

As you can see, I loved Chris Thile. Than I found out that he became an alcoholic, divorced his wife, and abandoned his faith. WHAT?!?! He wasn't perfect?!?! Yes, he was a full-blown, all-around human. I still love his music, but I realized that my whole saga of seeing him as greater than I was pointless. Futile!

Since then, there are still some people that have the potential to intimidate me, but I just remind myself that each human is a creation of God and must be treated with equal respect and dignity. Admiration for someone is fine and healthy, but raising a person high on a pedestal is useless and accomplishes nothing. 

Nice to meet you.

I tend to just love people, whoever they may be, and, once I've met someone, I enjoy the process of getting to know them greatly. After the initial hand shake and "nice to meet you," I feel pretty comfortable. But what I don't like is when I'm in a group of people and have half conversations with people I haven't officially met yet. There's that big feeling of, I can't really enjoy talking to this person until I've shaken their hand. Generally, I wait a few minutes to see if the people I do know in the group will introduce me to the person I don't know, like any good friend would do. But if that doesn't happen, then I must find a way to extend my hand and say, "I'm Emily. Nice to meet you." After that happens, it's like a uptightness is released. But if that doesn't happen, usually do to the fact that I don't want to interrupt the existing conversation, I get agitated. I know, it's odd. But it's true. 

Knowing God Part 2

...And if we don't truly know God, how can we truly believe and take to heart what he says? In one of his recent teachings, Josh White, one of the teaching pastors at Solid Rock Fellowship, commented on a big question that often lingers in a Christian's mind--the question, Why does the world not believe what I believe? The answer? Because we don't fully believe what we believe. 

If we, Christians, followers of Christ, don't truly understand and know who we serve, than we send out a mixed testimony to the world, and they, in turn, don't believe what we believe because we don't even know!

I call myself a Christian and I don't even truly know God? I know about him, yes. I know much biblical theology, yes. I know who the Bible says he is. I can pray to him, yes. Like a child to a loving Father, the Bible says I am supposed to know God. George McDonald says that "at the center of the universe is divine Fatherhood." We were made to have a deep-rooted, intimate relationship with God. And yet, I seem to reduce a compassionate Father who has called me his daughter and given me the right of being his firstborn to a theological symbol, a being that I cannot know on an honest, personal level.

So again I ask, do you know God? 

Driving.

I recently attended a four-day family reunion in Kalaloch, Washington, a fresh, beautiful, Northwesty town on the coast in the middle of the Hoh Rainforest. It was a spectacular place, which added to all the joyful gestures that bursted out of the mouths of our reuniting family. I feel so blessed to have extended extended family that I've grown up with, and the four days I was there were just incredible. But besides the meaningful bonfires with second cousins, the horseshoe tournaments, the climbing huge cedar trees, running on the beach with my aunt, the sharing of old memories, and the making of new ones, one thing I loved about the reunion was that I got to drive to and from the destination alone.

I would have just driven along with my dad and his family, but I had to leave the reunion earlier than they did, so, I drove myself. Just me, my thoughts, a 12 oz. coffee with cream from Dutch Bros., my new Above the Golden State cd, and the open road for five hours (each way). I guess to some people that may be boring, but I enjoyed every minute of it. The location of our reunion was very beautiful, but driving there and getting to experience all the changes of the land was so much more fulfilling. The crystal clear lakes, the gigantic trees that towered over the highway, the little minimarts in the middle of nowhere, the endless foxglove that scattered the sides of the roads, the sun bursting its rays through the thick forests--an experience that I probably would have ignored if I were not driving alone.

My recent thoughts...

I have recently been reflecting on the last year. Much has happened, and much is changing. I am in a sort of in between stage with where my life is going. Here's a few of the main ideas that have been swirling around in my brain...

- There are only a few people from my high school class who I am really making an effort to keep in touch with. The people that were my friends in high school were kind of like default friends. I saw them every day for five years, and being that my class was small, we all just became close, whether we wanted to or not. They may not have been people I would have chosen to be around outside of school, but we all grew to appreciate and love each other nonetheless. Now that I am out of the boundaries of high school, I feel kind of liberated--not from them, but from the concept--that I can choose who I want my real close friends to be.

- I feel that one relationship, in particular, was kind of a waste of my time. Well, I say that carefully because that person is still a very good friend of mine, and it wasn't them who was the waste. It's not that the time I spent with them was a waste either, but more how I handled the situation that makes me look back in a little--and it is very little--regret. I have always found it intriguing how a little inkling of fancy towards the opposite sex can manipulate the judgment of the fancier. For three months, I felt weighted down--not by him, but by the commitment and importance I placed on the whole situation. In putting such importance on that person, I began to think that I should have the same beliefs and thought processes as that person, which was compromising to my own, personal standard of myself. I have always been a person who, no matter how people viewed or perceived me, was sure of myself and confident in who God was to me. But for three months, the girl who I thought was stable and sure got a little confused and perplexed--not ruined or abandoned, just perplexed.

- I think I am a little sad. There's something so awesome about having a home church that knows you, having a home church where you've had history and people care about you and can pray and encourage you. I had that for seven years at a certain church, but the time came for a switch, and it came fast. After a few months of looking, I finally found a church that I felt I could settle in. I've been there now for about 5 months, and being that it is a big church, I feel that I am just beginning to get that "home church" feel. I recognize people and am getting to know people on a deeper level that Sunday morning small talk, which is something that is very dear to me. Unfortunately, I will be leaving for nine months this September, and will have to go through the process of looking for another church again. The church I am now attending will be the church I attend when I'm at home, but I feel sad because I love the people I am just getting to know so much, and it's frustrating that I'll have to go. I know that God has a purpose for my every move in life, so I am looking forward to what he has in store for me in Seattle. Sometimes fully grasping that is just hard.

Knowing God

Knowing God. What an intense thought. Do you know him? I don't mean know about him, or know all the right answers to Biblical or moral questions, or know who the Bible says he is. I mean, literally, do you personally know him? I also don't mean do you pray to him. Praying  to and knowing someone are very different actions.

When first getting to know someone, it usually takes a little while for me to figure that person out, to understand their dynamic. Once I've figured them out, I can then understand and know why they do what they do or act the way they act. If at first I analyzed their actions without knowing who they were or where they came from, I'd be getting the order wrong and would be doing myself a disservice. I'd end up judging them wrongly or assuming things about them that were not wholly true.

I think sometimes people analyze God's actions and decipher why he does what he does without truly knowing him, myself included. This process usually ends with frustration and twisted conclusions, which is unfortunate. 

I then think of the passage in the Bible (the location of the passage is currently lost upon me) that talks about the people who stood before God and basically said, "Look at all the things we've done for you, Lord! We've prophesied in your name, have driven out demons..." Then God replies, "But I never knew you. Away from me..."

So, do you know God? Really? It's a question that has recently been weighing heavily on my thought life for a few weeks.

Today I had the opportunity to sit on our new front porch. It's not really a porch by definition, it's more like a walkway, but there is room to sit on the edge of the doorstep. As I sat there, I felt like I was in one of those movies where everything around the character is forced into slow motion--everything except the character herself. The sun was just so...cozy. Not hot, or overly bright, or annoying, just cozy. And the wind was blowing just so, making our neighbors wind chimes tink and twink in a disorganized, but beautiful, fashion. Our other neighbor was playing a classical serenade on her violin, and although she was playing indoors with the windows closed, the sound was like a far off bird. To add to it all, the gigantic oak tree near our house caught the wind and was making a beautiful swwwiiish sound...

 It was just one of those moments that was so beautiful and simple. Oh! I know. It was like the opening scene from the movie August Rush. The little boy just breathing and taking in the sounds around him in the tall, swaying grass. 

I'm on a roll...

Yes, I'm on a roll today. Three posts in one sitting. Although the first one didn't count because I just copy and pasted it from my computer, being that I didn't have internet when I wrote it.

Anyhow, the one thing I forgot to mention is that I made a musical discovery. Well, I didn't make the discovery. Someone introduced me to his music. 

His name is Josh White. He was a huge player of the blues back in the 20's and 30's. My favorite song of his right now is "Pure Religion." Simple, yet so deep. Download it off of itunes right now.

The Jonas Brothers

I first heard of them when a ten-year-old girl in my church squealed with giddiness as she unraveled the fact, in many fast and jumbled words, that she had front row seats to their concert the night before and Nick, on of the three brothers, had apparently looked at her and winked, which meant that they were meant to be together forever and for always.

The second time I heard them was on the Disney Channel when they did a special with Hannah Montana.

My first impressions of them instilled in me no degree of interest.

But slowly, after hearing "When You Look Me in the Eyes" and "Burnin' Up," my old love for the Backstreet Boys has been reignited in the form of the Jonas Brothers. Yes, it's true. But for the present time, I have only really enjoyed listening to the two songs I mentioned. The others that they've put out have, well, the typical teeny-bopper sound. Nevertheless, they're growing on me.

Fourth of July

(I actually wrote this post of the Fourth of July, but I had no internet on that day...)

So I guess it is time to write. Write about what? Something worth knowing, I guess. There are some times when writing, even if the content is insignificant, is a good thing to do. It keeps the brain working, keeps the consciousness of thought processes in motion, reminds me that I can still create and think up sentences on my own, pointless as they may seem. So today, a lazy, Fourth of July afternoon, I have felt the need to write. So write I will...

I've come to the conclusion that whatever it is I'm doing, if I am doing it in the presence of people who are better than me, and I am being depended on to come through, my game is upped. This may be an obvious fact to most people, but I didn't realize the whole truth of it until yesterday.

For the past six or seven months, I have been going to a great church. As I've felt the desire to become more involved, I decided to try out for the music team. Music is something in which I was greatly involved in my previous church, but I didn't want to rush into things too fast at this new church. I wanted to test the waters a little before I committed to a dive in. Anyways, so yesterday I brought in my mandolin, played a little for the worship leader, and went through the usual routine of him asking me questions, having me play this or that, etc. At this church, there are tons of great musicians, and the whole time I was in the interview/tryout, I noticed myself forcing my fingers to do what my mind wanted them to do. I have always had a fear of being forced to improvise on a song I was unfamiliar with. But during the interview, I did. And I did okay. ("Okay" for me is great, being that usually my improvisation skills can be described as a "Train wreck ending with tensed fingers and small beads of sweat forming at the corners of my forehead").

I'm not trying to sound arrogant or haughty in my recently improving mandolin skills. I was just so taken aback that in the circumstance where I was surrounded by those better at music playing than me, where I needed to be good, and it was expected of me to be good, I was better than I thought I ever could be.

This truth seems to be the same in every area of life. I tend to feel the same and get similar results when I surround myself with people who seems to know God better than I. My faith is naturally challenged due to the increased standard I am surrounded by.

Again, I think this is something that most people would view as plain logical living. It's not necessarily a profound thought. I just haven't fully grasped it until now...

On a different note, I just finished reading "The Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd, and it was simply fabulous. If you want a good read, no, if you want a GREAT read, go buy it now. Yet again, it was one of those books that left me wanting, almost hurting for, more information about the characters. What will Lily end up doing with her new found life? Will Zach be a part of it? And T.Ray. What will become of him? Oh bother.

Sue, it would do you well, I'm sure, to write a sequel.

The Chronicles of Narnia

I'm in mourning. Mourning over the fact that I am on the last book of The Chronicles of Narnia series. Mourning that there will be no more adventures with Aslan, or Mr. Tumnus, or Reepicheap, or the Pevensies, or Puddleglum, or Prince Caspian, or Scrubb, or Pole, or Bree, or sailing to the East, or searching for the lost prince, or defeating the White Witch. Often, with good books, there's a feeling of sadness when the last page has been turned. It's that feeling of wishing the story could go on, wishing that there could be just a little more information about what happens after. Fortunately, with The Chronicles of Narnia, that feeling of sadness is countered by the excitement for the next book in the series. But I am now at the last book and will no longer be able to feel so excited about the next book in the series. For one there is not. It's the end. 

 I'm having a Pity Party at my house tonight at about 11:45 (that's when I will mostly likely finish it), if anyone would like to come...

On a lighter note...Cannon Beach tomorrow! Woot woot! I've been to many beaches in Florida, Hawaii, Washington, the Caribbean, California, New York, Mexico, and New Jersey, but none of them have impressed me quite as much as Oregon beaches do, and especially Cannon Beach, for that matter. Palm trees, white sand, and warm water are pretty relaxing. But nothing compares to the fierce waves, the jagged rocks, the vibrant color, and the adventure that is provoked on Oregon beaches.

Irish Pub Waitress

As my mom and I walked down the city streets of New York, we were delighted to find a quaint, little Irish pub on 46th Street, a few blocks off of Times Square. Being that it was eleven in the morning and I am under 21, we stopped in to have coffee. Here's a quick video of our nice waitress. 

...

New York, you done me well.

New York City, you've done me well.

It's hard coming back from big, fabulous trips because no matter how eloquently you explain the details of the trip to those who did not go with you, the true feeling and depth of the experience doesn't seem to be communicated very well in words.

How is one to return to the normal after such an extravagant affair has taken place? How is someone to go back to Starbucks after a Stumptown coffee has been tasted? How was Bilbo supposed to return to his small, quaint hobbit hole after trekking through such great adventures? How were the four Pevensies to live a normal life back in England after ruling in Narnia for so long? I feel like the memories that have been made and the lessons that have been learned over the last week in New York will soon slip out of my grasp if I don't write them down or take them to heart or keep replaying them over and over in my mind. 

The Phantom of the Opera.

Aunt Re never went to college, came from basically nothing, yet she has worked hard and has rightfully earned a way of living that is one to be greatly admired.

The Christian and the Jew disputing over religious beliefs and theology on the side of the road.

The Irish pub experience.

Dean and Deluca's monstrous iced mochas.

The constant hum of horns honking, people talking, subway trains passing through the bowels of the city, steam billowing up from the sidewalk vents.

Turkey Sligos.

Delightfully finding out that I am Irish, not German.

Lulu and Charlie.

The almost hurricane storm.

Deep fried Oreos.

The Jersey Shore.

The realization that going to school in New York is a dream that is well within reach.

New clothes.

Inspiration to become better, and understanding that it is I, not anyone else, who needs to be the change I want to see in me.

A new, meaningful ring.

Maybe my heart was simply caught in one place and forgot that there was more to what the eye could see, more than life outside of Portland. Maybe my soul just needed something new and fresh to awaken the objective eyes that can look at myself and see what really needs to be changed in order for success to happen. 

I'm sure I will bring more thoughts from my recent trip to NYC up in later entries, but my eyelids are begging my voluntary muscle system to close them for the night (or morning)...

Scatterbrained 1

Something that was forced too early due to lack of patience.

Would waiting to jump into this have made things better or worse?

But if I had not jumped in, would I be writing now about how I wished I had?

Maybe this good thing would have been better if it were given a few good years to mature.

Maybe this good thing would have become the best.

But now it's been spoiled, to some degree, and there's not much that can be done.

Well, there maybe something that can be done.

But there's a whole lot of frustrations that would have to be dealt with.

And it takes two, not one.

Maybe I'm just mad because I let the leash I've always held tightly to, for good reasons, let out a little.

Maybe I'm just irked because those red glasses are never honest.

Convincing, yes. But never honest.

Maybe I'm just angry because there was that little God-given voice that kept whispering to me quietly, "Not now." 

No "yeses" or "noes." Simply, "Not now."

And I thought I was more wise!

Surprised that it worked out the way He predicted it would?

You shouldn't be. He warned you.

And now there's that confusing state of frustration that's grasping for resolve.

The other end speaks words, but acts on another way of doing things.

This doesn't help the musings of my heart, being that I'm deep and the other is a bit shallow.

But shallow only for 45% of the time.

The other 55% is quite nice because there's actual intellectual jargon.

Oh well. Time will tell.

New York...

In three days, I will be flying 35,000 feet above the ground headed towards New York City. The little coffee houses. The authentic pizza shops. The people. The elevators that make my stomach turn because they go so fast. The celebrities (every time I've gone, I've seen at least two). The night life. Broadway. Virgin Records music store. Serendipity (the restaurant, recommended by Oprah). The subway. The constant sound of horns honking. The endless line of yellow taxis. The street performers. The Naked Cowboy. Times Square. The Today Show. 

Ah, I can hear you calling me, New York, and soon I'll be there to console your longing for me.

Oh, Ernest.

Last year, I fell in love with a man named Ernest Hemingway. Well, his books are the real thing that stole my heart. Yes, he was a womanizer to some extent. Yes, he committed suicide. But my favorite work of his, A Moveable Feast, always seems to make me laugh inside and feel all the more intelligent, or more whitty, at least. Here's a few of my favorite quotes from A Moveable Feast:

"The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits." (page 49)

"It made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face...and I thought, you con man conning me with your con...Now you will con me. Con not, that thou be not conned." (page 127)

"Scott was a man then who looked like a boy with a face between handsome and pretty...the very wavy hair and the mouth. The mouth worried you until you knew him and then it worried you more." (page 149)

Oh, Ernest, you really are a gem. Too bad you had to hate life enough to take your own. We could have been good friends, you and I...

So I am now at coffee shop on a Sunday night, by myself. It's an odd feeling to be alone sometimes, after having been socially active for long periods of time. Especially after this last week of school, where my classmates and I tried to spend every minute with each other. It's like driving a car after having been unable to drive for a few months. Or reuniting with an old friend after a few years of being apart. The feeling is one of love, yet there is a bit of doubtful awkwardness that sort of lingers, than quickly flees after a few minutes of testing the breaks, or after remembering how you and the old friend connect so well. It's nice to be with you again, Old Self. We haven't been alone for a few weeks.

Graduation and -------

Well, high school is now in the past tense, left to dwell in memories and pictures. And what memories! I can't believe how fast it has flown by. Last night was graduation and throughout the night, I probably heard fifteen people repeat in some form of words, "Seems like yesterday that..." I walked in the LCS doors with my plaid skirt and white polo top. I went home crying in the 8th grade because CJ gave me a mean look. I actually ran three miles in 29 minutes, which for me, is a miracle. Ashley and I were making posters on the LCS girls' bathroom floor for the ice cream social. Mr. K would throw us our "flying journals" in 9th grade Bible class. Diana and I would lay on her bed, looking at pictures of and dreaming of trips to Ireland while drinking our green tea. Fortunately, I think I have enjoyed and appreciated high school to the best of my ability, and I have departed with contentment. You've treated me kindly, old friend.

After graduation, me and some other good friends thought we would venture to 23rd Avenue to scout out any charming restaurants. Our venture landed us at Papa Hydn's at about 10:45, and we left having quite our fill of divine, $11.50-a-plate cuisine. Chicken and avacado sandwiches always do me well...

Now to the subject of -------.

I have concluded that the ultimate thing for man, and me, to do is trust in God. There really is no other way that leads to a life of such blessing, especially in the area of -------. I can be impatient and say "gimme, gimme" or "I want it now," but my timing is not God's timing and would thus end up in heartache. Hence, trusting that God's plan is the best plan for me is quite soothing to the soul, taking away all worry or agitation concerning -------. 

Coffee Shop

I am currently at coffee shop (its real name is Ava Roastaria, but to me and a few others, it is known as "coffee shop") with a good friend enjoying my rainy holiday. Usually this place is about half empty, but it is quite packed today, I'm assuming because of the rain. This place has become quite overgrown on my heart in the last year. Number one, it's not Starbucks. Number two, it's become a regular place to go to do homework or hang out after The Way, usually with one of my good friends. And number three, not taking into account the $6.oo sandwiches, it's just plain charming. 

So my homework is done, and now we are just sitting, enjoying the buzz of conversations and our computer fans (well, his computer fan...mine's a mac and is thus VERY quiet).

Well, of course.

Well, of course. Now that everyone realizes we'll be done in a week and a half. Now that everyone is realizing that their frustrations and grumblings were, in fact, quite petty, and the real issue may not be those around them, but something a little closer to home. Now that everyone is realizing how blessed they really were to have such a great environment of encouragers and people who told them the truth about life. Now that they are realizing that they may never have something quite like this ever again. 

Of course everyone is finally enjoying and embracing each person for who they are. Of course there are genuine smiles given down the halls in passing period. Of course the teacher is finally gaining some humility, realizing that maybe he wasn't the ultimate source of success for his students, although he was a factor. Of course people are finally expressing how they really feel about others, understanding that there is now no room for dishonesty or hidden appreciation. Of course deep friendships are just now developing.

I am not saying that these feelings of appreciation and embracing others, which are just now happening, are superficial acts of love. They are real and meaningful and genuinely given. But why are they blossoming at the end of it all? Why not live that way all the time? Becuase "life happens"? Because today we are happy and tomorrow "screw the world because I didn't have my corn flakes"? I would beg to disagree with that argument. Yes, we are human and we all have bad days. But is that an excuse to forget that we are supposed to be a reflection of Christ in everything we do? I would argue that each person, whether happy or sad, mad or joyful, has the capability of being genuine all the time. I mean, as Christians, aren't we held to a standard of being real? Not judgmental or self-seeking, but real?

"I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the Stern fact, the Sad Self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from." 

-Emerson

What's the point of short-lived enjoyment when it's not really who we are as whole persons?

Good and Best...

I know that this is a good thing. But I also know that it is not the best thing. But as the best thing has not crossed my path yet, I am left with the good thing, and the good thing is quite good, really. In fact, the good thing is so good that I have never come across anything as good as this good thing. But I know that the good thing is still not the best thing, which makes me ponder whether my involvement in this good thing is worthwhile. Am I keeping myself from the best thing by distracting myself with the good thing? In that case, would it be a bad thing? Bad in the sense that it is holding me back from my ultimate destination, my "Jerusalem," in the words of Nehemiah, quoted by John Mark, young adults pastor at Solid Rock Church? But compared to everything else in my life right now, the good thing stands out like a red balloon in a gray city. The good thing, like I said, is quite good. Just not the best thing. So where is the line that turns the good into bad?

Trifling...

I am finding this season in my life to be quite trifling. 

The thoughts of leaving a place where I have been accepted as who I am, where I have been challenged to be better, where countless memories have been made has proven to be a little heavy. I have been with the same eighteen people for five years, and although there are things about them that sometimes drive me mad, I have grown to love them like family. And yet, there is also a part of me that just wants to get away from them all, like a child who, although he loves his family, is desperate to leave home and explore the world. What really lies beyond the borders of Life Christian School, which is all I have ever known? But then again, will the people out in the real world love and accept me like those at Life have? Like I said, it's trifling.

 ------- has been tormenting my thought life a lot recently. I tend to over-think many things in life (relationships, God, books, calculus, etc,), and instead of just trusting in God for his will to be done and believe in his grace on my life, I tend to dwell and stew and dissect every little thing I don't understand, hoping to find some understanding through my own thought-out conclusions. So with -------, I could just give it up to God and allow him to grant me his peace that passes all understanding, including mine, but ------- is someone I see every day and my frustrations won't seem to relent. I feel like an alcoholic who genuinely would like to stop drinking, yet they work at the Jack Daniels Brewing Co. Doesn't help the situation...

On a brighter note, I have recently given into something in which I vowed never to involve myself--fake tanning! Coming out of Winter, my skin was terribly white. And desperate to get some form of color on my face before Spring Formal, I (aka my mom) bought the "Prom Special" package, where I get to tan every day for a month. So far, I believe that my new love has finally come in the form of a tanning bed and bug-eyed goggles. With each 7-minute session of UV, cancer-causing light, the endorphines in my body are released, and I walk out of the tanning place feeling like a new person...

Oh, by the way, yesterday I received a graduation gift from my grandparents in the form of a MacNotebook, on which I am writing this blog. I feel very grateful currently and have thus spent most of my sick day (I have strep throat) figuring out how to use it.

Scatterbrained 1

First blog is up!

New thing.