Let Love In

2007-04-03T16:18:00.000-07:00

Every morning I stand in front of it and see what I know in the mirror, framed by strips of photographs and keepsakes wedged into the wood of the mirror; dusty. My current odds and ends are spread over the white surface, something like my subconscious, and all the drawers are broken and lolling open with shirts and socks hanging out of them like loose tongues. The hairbrush that I never use is a faithful occupant, beside the jewelry box that never moves. A small gang of hair pins are loitering for months, two or three straying from the group but otherwise barely ever touched. I shun the china dolls perched on top of the bookshelf, the ones I never trusted for fear their glass eyes would one day move – they make me nervous. For the most part, I choose to curl up on my bed, close my eyes and imagine; imagine, the dresser dusted, drawers calm and shut. Perhaps the dolls change to pictures of sunny afternoons with friends. Maybe I find a use for the hair brush, or take an interest in the jewelry box. And finally I can wake up to pure sunlight pouring through my window panes, streaming over my sleep-drenched face – eyes open. But not one of the hair pins have moved; not one. I was just imagining… as if I want them to.

-----

Well you're in your little room
and you're working on something good
but if it's really good
you're gonna need a bigger room
and when you're in the bigger room
you might not know what to do
you might have to think of
how you got started in your little room

- Little Room, White Stripes

2006-09-03T20:23:00.000-07:00

I won't know until You tell me
I won't move until you breathe,
I'll stay wrapped up in this mistake
unless you start to seethe,

inside my veins and lungs,
unbearable and holy.
I will deny everything
until I can't deny you.

oh please, come nearer still
oh you are all there is.
to be found is to be lost in you
I'll never, never love again
the same way I have loved in you.
this is the first, this is the last
that damned ghost from christmas past,
a fiery rupture and icy blast.
don't let me go, don't leave my side
stretch all my fingers, open my eyes
and touch me, somewhere, deep inside.

and faithless as it may be,
suffer me to put my fingers in your side
if that is what it takes to be sure,
o baby Jesus in a manger.

oh there is nothing besides you
but i am such a void.
oh fill this gaping grave,
fill my soul, fill my soul...

please come inside, I'm sorry,
there's nothing to make you stay.
you're all i want,
and i'm nothing more
than a corpse rocked against a dauntless shore
a clonking ore, an apple core,
and oh, it is sore.
please make me nothing more or less
than a child who's reached by your tender kiss.

Amen

2006-08-19T18:13:00.000-07:00

if, you feel sick, just...

swish, swish...I was crossing an expanse of blue. my legs seemed to make holes in the surface, being completely sealed in by water. swish, swish...the water curled and gurgled and spat as i forced one leg ahead of the other. yards and yards of knee-high water, just blue enough; like the blue in some peoples' eyes, or the blue when you're very very happy. anyway, it was easier to read out here. it looked unnatural, walking through water and reading, as if i were on land - i was, but so was the water. above, the freshest sleepy breeze ran its fingers through my hair, and a gull or two were trying to read over my shoulder high above, circling like white-and-gold bobbles we hang on the tree at christmas. underneath, my feet pressed into hundreds of perfectly carved little ridges in the white sand, sculpted by the washy tide. every now and then the waves were playful and pushed me to the side, as if trying to wake me from my reverie.
they watched me from the shore - they like to watch me you see, something about being old people they say, even though they aren't old. but it's easier to act like it sometimes, isn't it? because they just watch everything that goes by. they must have been very young when they made that decision...i don't try to understand those things anymore.

-----------------------------

her laughing head looked like a sun, mouth wide open with joy, and eyes tightening up. it made an arch in the sky and then landed on the picnic cloth beside mine, still laughing; but everything else was bright that day too - too bright. hordes of sun-burned people with chlorine-streaked hair littered the shoreline, their arms full of flimsy plastic chairs so their neon spandex swim suits wouldn't get grass stains. a chaos of cherry-red coolers, volley balls, gaudy inflatible beach toys, cheap umbrellas that didn't always work, hats and shiny bikes, pink flip flops, and stinky sun screen surrounded us and blended into a blur of lights and colour; and we curled up in the safety of it.
maybe, when spirit is about to go up and pass the sun on its way, the sun gets excited and burns brighter, like it did that day.
it had begun; confused calls and jerky running, frantic scanning over the water's morbid surface. there was a young slim lady in a lose black dress with white polka dots on it, with a ginger complexion and a tuft of black strands caught up at the back of her slender neck. it was hers of course, the one missing; you could tell by the panic screaming on her face, it belonged to her, and she couldnt find it.
first the young man in the white t-shirt; he ran in, unsure and nervous, then he plunged head first under the murky water. another, with thick black hair, ran in; moments of sick suspense lasted only a little while. then, slowly, the truth eased through the crowds; it got cold. he hit the water with his arm and the water splashed; he cried out in anger like a wounded bear and ran his hands desperately through his black hair. an older women with the same ginger complexion slapped her hands together and yelled at the young slim one, "he's dead! ah? okay? dead!!" - the polka dot dress lady wasn't listening to any of them.
but he was found. he was more a communal link of humanity than a person, as no one could see him. he was dragged on shore, the hordes surrounded the ones who knew him.
the sun burned brilliantly, garish and unaware that even it could not warm the cold face it fell upon, lying there on the beach. the young lady in the polka dot dress never let her thin brown hand fall from her trembling mouth; even she did not know how terrible it was yet. the beach inhabitants seemed a separate species for an hour; they stood around dumbly, mute and expressionless, but no understanding spoke in their faces. it was almost as if they felt that this Dark Stranger had intruded on their sunny excursion, rather than it being them who had intruded into one of It's visits. perhaps some of them had not already met this Stranger, and did not then notice It's unfailing presence under their skin, something like being shown how to clean floors; before taught, one never knew about the dirt on the floor, but once put into contact with it, one is in constant awareness of its omnipresence. one sees it everywhere, and cannot get away from it; there is no respite from enlightenment.
after a while, sirens and men in red suits surrounded him and eventually wrapped the polka dot dress in a blanket and took her away, frantic eyes poking out of a vacant face.
i suppose, her little girl will be told stories about how good her papa was. how brave, and kind, and lovely he was; how his friends loved him, and his wife loved him. she will likely be reminded of how he loved her because she can't remember. perhaps the little girl will understand one day, perhaps she never will. perhaps the polka dot dress lady would think she was the only one who still saw him, in her room, you know, when no body else was around; that he still spoke to her, and caressed her cheek, and smiled lovingly into her face - perhaps she will never let go. perhaps she will become a living shrine to the one she loved, with no room for any other gods in her cracked and leaky bosom. perhaps her Hail Mary's will be said with more ardour when she clutches the gold crucifix that hung around her gaunt neck.
perhaps it was all a dream.

if, you feel sick, just...

2006-07-28T20:19:00.000-07:00

I'm gone. For a week, at a cottage, on an island, with my family.
I'm going to drink lots of tea, and write a lot, and do everything with my family.
I probably won't write that much actually; depends, if it turns out how I expect it to or not. I will read a lot though. And tan, and swim, and play scrabble, and pick flowers, and visit the tiny church there, and go on long walks, and try climbing trees, and squish the sand between my toes, and dance alone, and be cozy, and sleep, and wash dishes.
dreamy...cozy and overcast, i want everything in wool. wooden bedposts and brass knockers, the day and night lapse into each other and spin my days into gold...exhale, like you need to.

2006-07-24T18:24:00.000-07:00

so it comes down to wanting what you can't have. oh tripping over simple truth...but what's wrong with wanting some things? that's when God appears to be a big meany, holding good things back from me - but that's a lie, from the Father of Lies, trying to discredit God's goodness, His goodness which is evident in His Word, "I will satisfy your heart with the desires of your youth". I just don't understand it all.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear you,

You are un vaniteux. So why do I like you so much? It's not even liking you...I just have an insatiable appetite for you. You're challenging, and while you're as ordinary as all the people I reject, yet the fact that you are happy that way gives you a superiority over your peers; and it's addictive. You're not too far from the rest of them, and I'm dissastisfied with them - but you seem to have a secret, as if this normality of you isn't true, and I am obsessed with finding out if I'm right. Or maybe that's just it - it's all about me; I need to know, I need to be right, I need to win - as always. Perhaps this one singular feature about you that has me mesmerized has one singular purpose - to break my vanity. "I could more easily have forgiven his vanity had he not wounded mine." ugh. It doesn't help that I romanticise it all; and lie about it to myself as well - you're probably not AS vain as I make you out to be, but your continual indifference towards me makes me think you must be the most proud and conceited person alive - which, ironically, would make me the proud and conceited one. And this logic that bounces off of you and back at me makes me dislike you even more. Which only increases my infatuation.
I WISH YOU DIDN'T EXIST
I would sleep better at night.

Sincerely,
Me

2006-07-06T19:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when I get tired of crawling on all fours and I feel like the city is gonna swallow me up I come out here, and...I feel like, anything can happen up here. I can, be president, I can lick the stars, suck the moon? Oh man, I'm weird right?...what do you wish?
...I wish, my mother were still alive.
...Oh..I know...
...When I was little, I told my mother I wanted to be a doctor, a veterinarian. She smiled at me, and she said, darling, you're gonna be, the best veterinarian in the world...
You are, I know you are, I feel it.
No, because she's gone now.

Antonio and Nina, Sueno

It's amazing, what pain can do. How it can paralyze us, and lock us up. How we let it do that to us...how we throw away the future because of things that have already happened. How hard it is to move on, to trust again, to love again, to feel again. Fear tells us, don't risk it, you're better off in the dark not knowing what you might lose. But, "it's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."

2006-07-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

There is no such obligation.

- Virginia, The Hours.

but i spend so much time trying to figure out what i should be.

and i want to talk to Mozart and ask him what he thought
when he knew all about love but could love nothing but art.

2006-07-06T19:18:00.000-07:00

mm i wrote this a while ago...

there is no "solution". there is only you. the way you are. with no frills or ornamentation.

when i was little i was terrified of swimming.

i fell in a pool once. i was too little to remember it but there were times when i was older that i thought i knew the feeling. water completely alien to my walking feet; the feeling of immediate threat needing some kind of counteraction; the only reaction possible is floundering; and slowly, slowly, losing to the inescapable pull...

now i want to be brave. i get in the pool and i'm completely willing to do what i need to do to stay afloat. and i'm trying everything i know.

but i don't know enough. so i'm flailing, and i know i'm sinking.
and i'm failing it all.

"the only one holding you back is yourself," teacher said to the little dripping girl in the swimsuit.

her eyes stung but it wasn't the chlorine...the little girl thrashed through a salty flood. she never could swim very well...

2006-06-23T22:06:00.000-07:00

jewel jewel i love jewel
jewel is cool
jewel jewel jewel
good good
mm...pinkk..
and all these shiny pens for exams..
DONE !
almost
laallalala...
skeh. he's at his SECOND prom.
"big shoes to fill huh? BAHAHAHA"
...
sooo gingerale. yarm.
definately a guitar sitting in that chair. okay...
"remember the time you drove all night just to meet me in the morning?.."
ooohhh bright eyes...thank you for being on file share.
and i'm not blowing you off if i say i'm busy.
unless i am blowing you off.
FUSCHIA GO AWAY
so, butterfly on me.
annnd supposedly modest, suspiciously awkward...
shorts.
i.
me.
you.
sleep. sleep sleep time to sleep.
lightbulb yellow light
glimpse
good night <3

2006-06-22T15:13:00.000-07:00

I kind of like you.

you end reality for me just like i've always wanted. i don't always understand how your smile seems to contain the world; i'm jealous of your smiles you know, just like God is jealous of us, i don't want anyone else to have them but me. i don't need music anymore - listen to you, i've never heard anything so beautiful. sometimes i stop thinking about it all and am just quiet in you. and summer..or fall...it doesn't really matter or even exist anymore, not near you.

i am happy in our black and white world. everything is calmer here, i don't hide terrors in me anymore. my nightmares don't flourish in marvelous artwork as much now. but there is the matter of time - a thing that doesn't really exist. i don't like things i can't control, you know that about me; you were the only exception for that. but it's just at the moment when we are where we want to be, and all enveloped i find a tender pain in it. i'm wrapped in the drapes by the moody lampshade and you're still asleep; oh you are beautiful, more so when you're very near me and very far from me and all the places inbetween. the dawn is almost breaking and my burning happiness is touched with something very cold - the passing of it; it is being blown away and i can do nothing about it. i can only have you as long as you are here. i am indignant as i forget i am human. knuckles clenched to white...shut your eyes tightly and try very very hard, like when you were little and wanted to wake from a dream...there must be a way out of the world, out of time.

i am drawn up, dried up and pressed; the gold spills onto my grey matter.
the end of what we know is the beginning of its permanence, its fixedness. but that doesn't fit in my head yet. hot tears of fury streak my face as you sleep, so peaceful, my beautiful one...it hurts, because it won't last - everything is fleeting. just when i feel the human flesh against mine, i turn my watery eyes to their graves and see the impossibility of it. because we're greedy creatures and now is not enough - we want forever.

i want you forever.

forever has already begun, so maybe there is no end to this...

click.

2006-06-21T12:47:00.000-07:00

I'm locked inside this stone tower of song, and I
I'm trying to write messages on the window baby, God I just want to belong

Choose me
Choose me
Pick me, take me, oh I need to believe
Oh, no one else exists for you now, and
No one else exists for me
Oh, you are my home, and I have
Finally found my way
To where you are.

- Where You Are, Jewel

2006-06-13T16:27:00.000-07:00

I’m lying face down in dirt but there’s no scent of defeat. I always thought failure would look something like this but that seems to have been a misunderstanding of success; this soil is nothing short of rich, and I don’t mind it underneath my fingernails.I should be distressed – and I was sure I would be; but I can’t fight this feeling of anticipation, and oddly enough a seemingly inappropriate feeling for the moment – carefree; taken care of. Like a small child in a car seat gazing out the window with wide starry eyes, plump with fulfillment, wet pink lips parted, unquestioning and ignorant of the breakneck speed of the vehicle he’s in; but I’m not ignorant of the danger, so I thought I’d never feel like this.

It feels somewhat out of place, like when you’re waking up and you think its yesterday. Things look a lot different up here. But the sound of my name being scratched off of so many lists can’t seem to drown out the cascading symphony of deliverance. And I can’t find a place for my foot to stand but I won’t think of what’s not underneath my steps, I just can’t wait; can’t wait to know where You’ll take me next, what You know that I don’t and never could. My hope builds with every crumbling skyscraper from my old world. Either I’ve acquired a taste for danger, or I’m trusting.

People say I just need to hold Your hands, but I think I just need to look at them; when I look at mine hope sputters and dies, but Yours awaken inclinations intended at creation and hold unknown possibilities.

it was familiar to me
the smoke too thick to breathe
the tile floors glistened
i slowly stirred my drink
and when you started to sing
you spoke with broken speech
that i could not understand
and then you grabbed me tightly

i wont let go
i wont let go
even if you say so
oh no
i've tried and tried with no results
i wont let go
i wont let go

he then played every song from 1993
the crowd applauded as he curtsied bashfully
your eyelashes tickled my neck
with every nervous blink
and it was perfect
until the telephone started
ringing ringing ringing ringing ringing off

- The Dreams of Evan and Chan, by The Postal Service

2006-06-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

leave me down here, bleeding slow; oozing thoughts and murmuring low. breathing like it's all i know. my jaw hard against tile floor and hands cold from the loud encore; i know i've thought of you before. encircling the kitchen lights with memories from moments past that immediately flicker but brightly last and cast the shadow behind my eyes, wherein you will find the lullabies that keep my heart still and me alive. leave me down here, it is familiar, the dim reflection in the hallway mirror; it is familiar to me, this mobile of softly coloured hues that turn and sing me, sing me to sleep...

"Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?" - Isaiah 55:1-2a

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a woman - a mother - in a kitchen, at a cutting board, asking in her heart for grace for the day from a Holy One, omnipotent but humanly distant. a teenage girl crying on her mother's shoulder because she can't yet understand this Love she's been brought up hearing about. an old man cradling his head in his palms, catching tears of remorse for the things he has not been to his children. an elderly woman in a nightgown with frills, holding up her fingers to Heaven, her heart beating as passionately as when she was young, smiling with a holy countenance at this friendly Reaper, sent to fly her home; her family members the next day gazing blindly with their watery vision into her grave in the soil. a heart surging with joy and comfort in a pew in the morning but returning home feeling dull and restless again. a young man lying in a hospital bed, the immensity of what his heart is being flooded with bringing tears to his eyes, his eyes that might have seen the world a little longer in the naivety and blithe ignorance of a boy his age.

these glimpses of heaven here on earth. the spiritual world used to feel like pins in a pin cushion, stuck in, protruding, and just not adhering to reality. now life feels like a small complex tapestry with tears revealing the magnificent and enormous wall on which it is hung.

tears - the times when you realize what's permanent. what will fade away and what will last. when death and eternity seem no further than the period at the end of a sentence or the end of a song, inevitable and resolute. when life here is realized for what it is, only half of the story and much less indomitable than we see it. when suddenly you feel like you are on your toes teetering on the cliff of all things known.

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for some people, I think growing old is no more than losing the romantic padding of physical beauty that softens the impact of the person him/herself .

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"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;" - Isaiah 49:15-16

2006-05-26T11:16:00.000-07:00

to lysha

<3 happy sixeenth love <3

sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen sixteen ahhh lysh. where to begin? has it been four years? it makes me smile to think things this amazing last like that. yes yep. well i guess i should start off by saying what a great friend you are, since, that's just what you are. you're always there to talk to and help me with my problems, and pray. and it's funny, i used to think being really close with someone meant never fighting; but our friendship (and most others) proved me wrong. it also proved wrong my idea of misunderstandings being unrepairable.

man, i want...to see you. k, you'll probably think i forgot about your bday cause this wasnt here yesterday lol but i didn't!! i thought about you all day yesterday. yessiree, i did. and i missed you. sixteen always sounded old but now it doesn't; but it sounds a lot more beautiful than i ever hoped it would. speaking of beautiful....
stop getting prettier. golly, the nerve of you. you just don't know when to stop!

so i thought of mailing you a gift. it tickled me to death. i'd fedex it (cause that's what people with urgent packages do. the regular post just won't suffice, everyone who's anyone knows that) and i'd put lots of stamps on it even if i didn't need them. and wrap it in too many layers of something pretty. and i would probably say "i need postage! pronto!" like that. because that's also something urgent people do when mailing things.

know you are loved. i love you. i want you to know how much you mean to me and what a part you have and are playing in my life. how you've helped me and spurred me on. how i cherish you. how i've learned from you. how i'm so glad you're in my life. how you've just been there and how you've grown and how you've...mm..there's not really a word for it, just, when you know someone, and that changes you. love.

i love you.

2006-05-25T17:04:00.000-07:00

sweet Jesus,

take me
take all of me
leave nothing behind.
undo me
break me
halt all my designs.
because i want to be Yours
to be given to You
wholly
unreservedly
and by now, i at least know what not to do.
defeat me
end me as i am without You
and take me
take all of me
leave no part untouched.
because after all my unbelief, You've still taken the time
to show me You're still here
and that I'm still on Your mind.
here,
to show me You don't need me to be ready
to show me in my helplessness I am ready for You.
show me my weakness
until i start to faint in despair
bring me to a point
where i can lean on nothing but You
and see nothing but You there.
and take me
take all of me
let me hold nothing back
O do I ever even wonder
why Holy Ghost should descend to me?
the only thing i can do - it is the very smallest -
is to wonder at Your presence;
do i even wonder?

*

glory - that is an extravagant word. it sounds like it has all the trimmings. almost gaudy but not, because it's also pure - the height of harmony. i wish words walked around all day. right when we say them; that they'd be birthed right then and there. that we'd actually see them rumble out of our mouths and dust themselves off as they prance down our breath, with the air of a ghost from a black and white film or a fancy dressed toy person from a dream, all our sentences forming this ornate parade of thought. they would be so riotous and discordant in their resigned meanings and formality. they'd strut or stroll about, and speak into the ear of the person you are talking to. and that horrible feeling of regretting something you've said would finally be comprehensible when you see that word still blundering about your tabletop where you uttered it into being; just not disappearing as it should.

i think it's better the way it is though. words are powerful enough when just heard.

*

i am the worst blogger who ever had the impudence to keep a blog (ahaha). but i'm just too busy to keep it up. i get all the urges but not the time.

*

"As we grow up I think we will learn to talk less but to talk at all the right times more often."

*

you could think of this as a blog warm-up for the summer because i'll likely blog more then. but i don't feel like running through the past few months. i'd rather just tell you what's on my mind...

my mum is an excellent shopper. she buys me nice things when i least expect it. i think i underestimate her knowledge of my taste, because she almost always brings me back things that i like. i like them so much i must go up to her and say, "mommy, thank you, you are good."

"A shark bit off my left arm and my left leg."
"Yikes! How are you doing?"
"I'm all right,"
"..."
"HAHA! GET IT?"
"..."
"I used a saw. I just wanted to make that pun."

i'm making a music video.

i have a new keyboard!

i'm making book marks out of candy boxes because they're so colourful and pleasing to the eye.

i have a long string of fat, bright yellow beads. i want to do something with them but i'm not sure what yet.

2006-03-25T16:57:00.000-08:00

after learning how to trust, I find there's so little to trust. least of all myself. but wait...

I'm so good at leaving. I'm so good at blaming those who could help me, and at chasing those who hurt me. I'm so good at going the wrong way and making the wrong decision; when I make any at all. I'm so good at putting myself before you but only when I shouldn't. I'm so good at leaving you.

all this time, thinking you're knowing where you're going; after you veer off the road more than once though, you begin to forget which turn was a mistake.

I can't take back yesterday. But I don't want to spend all tomorrow wishing I could either.

and all the jealousy or lies cannot justify my imitating response.

Its funny, how people can't lie with their eyes. we lie with our mouths but our eyes can only tell truth. I see it in my pictures. I see it in your face.

a memory is a very present thing.

gone up.

2006-03-14T15:57:00.000-08:00

when all that's before my eyes is a sparkling darkness, cruel and stimulating, the silence - then I know I've come to my own crossroad.

......................................

I wonder how you know about me anymore, beyond space as you are. do you? are you watching over us? or are you right here with us? or are you in our hearts living in each of us? or can we only remember you as you appear, penned in by four silver lines of a picture frame? why can't I understand it? why is it, that as much as love is in my heart for you I am caught up in understanding this. what is it that made people squeeze me tightly while my eyes watered and my nose dribbled on that dark sunny day? what was that occasion? what was it for?

unhappy people think life stretches on. happy people say it is the wink of an eye. so I won't struggle to debate whether it was the right time for you or not, I just hope you were happy.

and miracles say you were. like the things you said and did the week before you left that you would never had said or done before; that was God's hand reaching down from heaven to take you Home.

the communion of saints is more than a monumental decree in ink on the pages of a very old Book. you leaving is like a tear in the fabric of us, our comfortable knowledge pulled out from under our feet - but it has led us a little farther, a little deeper into that stark unknown. heaven; a thing, a place, more real than what we consider to be the most permanent, powerful, and relevant things in our lives. the doorway; an unnatural rip that lets the presence of heaven seep out in sharp golden sand. somehow its easier to believe angels surround my bed at night now. and to believe that you never really left, because you are now with Him who is always with me.

....................................

2006-03-11T15:59:00.000-08:00

they say life is a breath.
so breathe...

"what?"
"yes, there will always be people who are too nice and will accomodate those with low self-esteem, and people who are too lazy and will not hold you to higher moral standards than they have for themselves. there will always be someone for you to fall in love with, however shallow, selfish, or dim you are. cheer up."

ugly is beautiful, and shy is bold; the cold silence is an invitation and the shrieking laughter is a call for help. we conquer a world when we use our own eyes.

those moments of lucidity when you're brushing your teeth or staring down a red light at an intersection.

you can't acquire it, and therefore you had it all along. but no frost-bitten adage can coax the life out of a single soul. risk your rationality or die a slave to it.

the repeated assurance that its already in you - or that you already are it - stale, comfortless, perpetually applied by your mother while you wince and turn away and feel no divine presence - new or of previous residence -, instead just a grossly swelled feeling inside your chest.

I waited.
wait.

an unfair revival that leaves you turning.

yes, I look forward to a feeling that far surpasses that of a handsome somebody's number written on my palm - or my number on his. no one will be able to barter it to or from me.

if you've given up fighting by the right rules then you've lost already. go away.

I am so ill-disposed to pride that I fear I'll never be capable of having the right kind of it.

"You think I'm like my dad,"
"You are not your dad,"
"Maybe I will be, maybe I'll be just like him."
"Maybe you'll be better."
- Proof

this is your silver lining. help me make it and stitch the numbered days together.

forgive me when I break my promise and do leave you because I think that will help me change; I only do that because its all I know to do - I do it to myself. I don't know how to fix, I've never tried for fear it won't work - so I leave things.

a year ago I would have given you up because of the pain; but I know now, how foolish that would be; how precious you are even when you don't look it.
the same goes for me.

come up.

2006-03-09T10:19:00.000-08:00

Janelle - "God is gracious"

!!!!!Happy 14th Birthday!!!!!!

Now that you're fourteen you may make up new priviledges to go with it, since, there are no actual ones. But that doesn't matter, there's so much to look forward to anyway. :)

I've known you for, 3 years now? 2 1/2? Something like that, but it seems so much longer. I guess it helped that we had mutual friends, but I think we also kinda got along too ;) So much has happened in these 2 1/2-ish years. I've got to know you so well and trust you, I can tell you everything. I've seen you grow and change so much, and find things in yourself and your life that are just amazing. :) I've laughed with you, stayed up to undecent hours talking with you, snorted and giggled with you, drawn on you (lol), mutilated pepper canisters with you (aheeh), had bad hair days with you, and because of you am guilty of long phone bills. I've seen you bubble over the Cottars cds, brush your teeth (with a LIVE tooth brush), wear lovely black dresses like no one else, and sing beautifully at lots of concerts. You're sweet and caring and always there for me. You're beautiful and not just because of your pretty cat eyes or barley-gold wavy hair, but because of Who lives in your heart; and I pray that you will always cling to Him and never doubt His love, presence, or abundance for you. And you've helped me; you've helped me cry and laugh and see things as they are. So babydoll, I hope for all things colourful, sweet, and enchanting for you in this new year. Love.

p.s March Break means big emails.

2006-03-03T19:19:00.000-08:00

It's not so much...

Obsessed...

No more blogging for a while.

2006-03-02T09:05:00.000-08:00

"Last week I had the strangest dream where everything was exactly how it seemed"

If someone could just rip the knife and pen out of my two hands I'd be much obliged.

There is something counter-conventionally beautiful in this confusion, in this fantastic disaster, that makes me think it should always be this way - always wanting to get out but really wanting to stay and belonging here. But I think I've just gotten used to it.

I do remember everything that happened. But I forget that I've been living for fifteen years. Why does that seem bizarre? Why does it seem like the only tangible thing is the present? Because it feels constant? Because when I look around its the only thing I'm really feeling?

I remember...
I remember lots of things. Listening to rock with my brother and classical at symphonies and thinking music was the gateway to...everything. I remember how everything sparkled and that bubbling simmering sensation that was always just beneath my skin...the glory of living, the glory of Love, the glory of mismatched shoe laces, the glory of wearing pyjama pants out of the house. That was mine.

Now things are different. I'm fifteen, not twelve anymore. I don't play outside - or guitar - or listen to punk rock. My world is no longer in a box of pencil crayons as much as I'd like it to be. I started thinking womanhood was in a skirt or a canister of mascara. I've lost two people I loved and how was I supposed to know what that would be like? Or when. I quit piano. I use an alarm clock to wake up. And I can never go back and it makes me laugh strangely.

"And as I sit here with the blinds shut,
my breath sliding in and out of me,
the static takes over,
the tv screen stretches and fuses
with reality outside that metal frame, but its almost exactly the same."

Its not so much wishing for the past but remembering a time when I had something important.
Obsessed, with the past, because its my strongest concept of time. And death too, a close-up encounter of...something. Or something that's not there anymore. Or...
I thought it would be a dark patch in my life forever more, like a tear-bursting scene in a sad movie that will replay in my head and heart forever. But somehow I've come to peace with it; except when I think of the person him/herself...then I get confused at the memory of their eyes.

And I don't want to talk about how I feel anymore because it all sounds the same.

And stress is the only feeling I can't make into something...presentable.

When I talk about what I want, am I talking about heaven?

Maybe
Maybe
Maybe

2006-03-01T10:09:00.000-08:00

The Lady of Shallot
Tennyson

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott."

This is just 8 verses of the original 20. There was a later version written by Tennyson with 19 verses.

2006-02-28T12:41:00.000-08:00

Are you ever blown away when you realize you've been doing something but you were denying that you were actually doing it?
...
And then sometimes I think that if I say it, I'll mean it.
I'm very good at lying to myself.

2006-02-19T10:38:00.000-08:00

Don't let me go, even when I tell you to, don't let me go.

Things I dream about at night and call fairy tales by day. Running back to that laundry basket to see if I can find the candy you found in the treasure hunt. Plunging under water for a second time to see if I can catch a glimpse of the pretty rocks in the mud between my toes. Lifting the kite into the air one more time to see if it will fly like you said it would. You convince me so well. You make me want to believe in things I've cast away as naive and even dangerous. You have things because you weren't afraid to see their potential before they were in bloom. "Your faith has saved you."
***

I'm tripping, stumbling over misconceptions and embarassment, over predispositions and preconceptions, over unreal expectations and tantalizing self-pity.
I am afraid of what I will see if I look at You. I turn around and hide my face in my hands and cry out for you to show yourself. I stubbornly insist for my own idea of you to appear and, consequently, my own idea of me.
Don't let me keep myself from you. Don't let me go. These water wings won't do, these stoppers don't stop the water from flooding in and swallowing me whole. Only your arm under my round immature belly can hold me up. And left to myself I know I would choose anything over you. "Ashamed I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers."
But don't let me go.

2006-02-08T15:08:00.000-08:00

Brand New Colony
by The Postal Service

I'll be the grapes fermented, bottled and
served with the table set in my finest suit
like a perfect gentleman.
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the
ancient brick where you will sit
and contemplate your day.

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you
start drowning in an open tab when your
judgement's on the brink.
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
albums back as you're lying there, drifting off
to sleep... drifting off to sleep...

I'll be your platform shoes; undo what heredity's done to you:
you won't have to strain to look into my eyes.
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped
straight to the throat with the collar up so
you won't catch a cold.

I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
and kiss you on the mouth.
We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of
this scene, start a brand new colony.
Where everything will change, we'll give
ourselves new names. Identities erased.
The sun will heat the grounds, under our bare
feet in this brand new colony.
Brand new colony...

Everything will change, Ooo ooo...
Everything will change, Ooo ooo...
Everything will change, Ooo ooo...

2006-02-02T15:49:00.000-08:00

Noah, my adorable little nephew! all mine! you can't have him!!

2006-02-01T10:19:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday Noah John Saliba, for the first time ever.

He was born on Tuesday, January 31, 2006. The newborn son of Jad and Sandra.

We've been talking about him for nine months and he made us wait an extra ten days. Even with that extra anticipation, we're all kind of empty-mouthed. All we can do is wait for our turn to hold him!

We weren't there the night he came because Sam was in labour all through the night and there was nothing we could do if we had gone, the hospital wouldn't let us in at all, so what birth was like is a mystery to me. But when we came to visit them yesterday through the tooth-paste-green hallways that perpetually smell like cleaning chemicals, Sam and Jad had a baby boy who was theirs.

He's tiny, seven pounds, an average baby weight I think. When I hold him I have to gather my arms closely because he's so small; my arm supports his entire body length, and his precious head rests in my palm. He is a soft bundle of velvety pyjamas with little pink hands and feet. His light brown hair sticks up at the back of his head and his brow is drawn together in a focused expression, as if he has something on his mind; as if he has anything on his mind. I haven't seen his eyes yet because he was sleeping both times I saw him, but they're blue.

He is the essence of calm, so content and limp as he's passed from one pair of hands to another pair to another pair, very much asleep.

He doesn't know who we are, or what he is, or what those tiny arms he flings around are yet, but one day he will. He hasn't decided yet if he likes those yellow pyjamas with bears that he wears. But one day he will see pictures of himself as a baby in those pyjamas. He'll go to school, and one day he'll do something he loves, maybe a sport or an instrument? Who knows! He'll learn to ride a bike and he'll find out if he can cook or not. He'll buy a car, and pay insurance, he'll fall in love with a girl...right now its difficult to imagine Noah as anything else but a baby. And I don't want to think of him as anything else but a baby! Stay a baby Noah! (*wishful auntie thought*)

We've been waiting for him for what seems like a long time, but now that he's here we're wondering, who is this? This new life, this clean, pure, creature, a picture of God's goodness. I think I will always wonder at how children are born, still when I'm near the end of life and sex is no longer the hot topic it is to teenagers, because birth is so much more than something physical (although after I've been in labour I might be more focused on that part...:P no, actually). Noah has a soul, and he's not just a product of a biological equation that nature has by chance formulated - he is a work of art, every detail planned and made purposefully by His heavenly Father. Although I am bias towards God's love as a Christian, I know it is still wonderful to people who don't know God - this creation of new life. It's beautiful; Noah is beautiful. He is a gift of God, and a child of God. And God already knows him, "I knew you before you were born, I knit you together when you were in your mother's womb." There is a reason for everything about him already, even though he's just a day old. There's a reason he is Sam and Jad's first child, and a reason he was born ten days late, and a reason his tiny nose curves down then up (sometimes it looks up-then-down) the way it does. He is so new, so fresh, so untouched, and I want to keep him that way forever.

O Lie Still

O sweet baby, o lie still,
The sun is under the window sill.
You wake today for the first time,
So natural, common, but oh sublime.

O sweet baby, as you lie
So still and fragile, but magnified
Is the light of life in your pink cheeks,
Pronounced so clear before you speak.

O lie still, your fingers stretch,
Your lungs expand under caress
Of mother's touch and father's care,
And wrapped in tender trusting prayer.

O lie still, o baby sweet,
Just as you are, so mild and meek.
One day you'll learn, and know, and smile,
So just lay down a little while.

O lie still, and close your eyes,
Ride dreams of foamy unknown tides,
Don't think, just sleep, sweet baby cry,
But love will be your lullaby.

It is SO hard to find good poetry on babies on the internet. I searched for a while but gave up hope, its all pathetic, cliche, unoriginal junk, "you're so cute and chubby like a cherub!"..."obey mother and always be sweet, eat your food, not just the meat!"...mmhm. So this one is mine, for Noah, with love from your auntie!

2006-01-28T11:05:00.000-08:00

I keep thinking that salvation comes all at once, thats its one big change and then you're ready to live perfectly. And I would never say it like that but thats what I think, expect, desire, deep down inside. And it'll never happen like that. Salvation, God's love, is so much more than a change of mind. And it will come slowly, quietly, seeping into us, throughout our whole lives...every day, a little bit...every week, a little further...every year, a little older...

But I'm so impatient!

But this is my place. This is where I belong. At the foot of the cross - for all my life. Crying out, confessing, asking for forgiveness, breaking...and being upheld by Him. "A cup to hold God's grace". I will always be asking, learning, wondering, questioning, growing, needing. And God will always be there. Being saved will not turn me into a super hero who can do everything and anything and be everything to everyone - as much as I'd like it to.

I think many people, including myself, have thought of salvation as a repair, something to fix us, get us back on our feet, so we can get back to being greater in ourselves. But its so far from that...in fact, being a child of God means I will always have to be humble, lowered, selfless, serving. It is entirely non-self-glorifying; it is completely humbling. I keep jumping up off of my knees and saying "Thanks God! Same time next week when I sin again!"...but I should always be on my knees.

My pastor said that salvation is a constant outcrying for mercy. I thought that was the most depressing definition he could think up for it. But when we see ourselves as we really are, we can only really picture ourselves living like that, constantly crying out for mercy...Aut I think that because I don't fully understand God's mercy and goodness and love I'm not certain that its all I'll ever need. In my head I do, and in my heart I believe, but I slip. I have experienced so much of His love, but He is so unimagineably...big, so beyond me, bigger than life, that what I have had seems so tiny in comparison. And I find myself asking for more of Him, and then sinning against Him.

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." - 1 Corinthians 13: 12

Even as I am fully known? He knows me more than any other person could.

His love is overwhelming, flooding, overflowing, inexpressible, and my chief delight. We make our God so small to think He isnt enough..."My grace is sufficient for you" So why do I keep searching for more?

O inconsistent me, crying out for consistency.

2006-01-18T11:28:00.000-08:00

***

I love watching lobsters in grocery stores. whenever I go to one I'm sure to find the lobsters and watch them until I'm satisfied with their clonky rubber-band-bound claws and their slithering whiskers. I like them, in all their absurdity. One is always trying to escape. the rest are hanging out in one corner. "you're gonna die," I say to the one scaling the glass wall, "but you can't think..." his bobble-beady eyes float suspended above his head on more whiskers.

***

Line ups for rides at theme parks are always interesting. Joking and laughing so hard you crumble to the cement, wiping the sweat off the back of your neck, elbowing, stretching. The hot August sun beats down on us through the dark-net awning, we're passing one solitary water bottle around, the sound of people groaning and whirring like a hive of hot bees, blaring rides, screaming riders, a disgruntled worker an odd sight in the picture. The wide screen tv suspended above the crowd repeats about five music videos the whole day; after two hours of being here, no one likes them anymore.
He grins at me, his wide white teeth dazzling, his dark Middle-eastern stubble peppering his broad friendly face; my cousin and I can just barely speak together in English, but he laughs and glances at the screen. "And the reason is yooooooooooou!" He sings terribly along with Hoobastank, and then grins at me again. I grin back. He didn't know he'd be wailing something else in a week at a grave site.

***

She didn't try to keep her crying quiet; her red nose crowded with crinkled tissues held there by two trembling hands. I knelt in front of her awkwardly and rest my hands anxiously on her lap, my tongue nearly jumping out of my mouth, eagerly trying to find words of comfort. But I didn't want to say anything. I was frozen, as if teetering on a cliff, and somehow could only think perfectly practically. She needed to stop crying...it made me uncomfortable...I didn't know why...and then an acidic taste rose in my throat and a burning fear surged in my stomach. Suddenly I was afraid to believe what she was crying about; I was angry that she was going along with it. I opened my mouth which felt a hundred times smaller than it usually did and spoke. "Alex," I said just above a whisper, "stop crying." she shuddered with a sob. "stop it!" I yelled.
Just then she gave way to a great wail and threw her arms around my neck, and I put my arms around her. Hot tears of unwelcome grief and embarassement started to prick my eyes and drop on her shoulder. She was the one howling, but I felt so undignified. And for the next few minutes I wasn't sure if I was holding her or if she was holding me.

***

I am fifteen now. I turned fifteen on January14...I was so happy, and the day was so perfect that it almost felt unrealistic. But thats having family and friends celebrating with you and taking time to set this day apart for you and remind you how much they love you. Being fifteen is something else, also good.
12, I was the happiest, a wild tumbling knot of curls and crooked grins, a half-tame golden cub. 13, my little suspended red heart stopped bouncing and carried seething, burning, freezing questions, and my breath got caught in my throat. 14, a pale rainbow, throbbing, growing, knowing, not knowing, mostly wishing and remembering. 15...and I'm a blundering ballerina, with silk ribbon slippers on unworthy feet, I'm trembling and...hopeful.

I have people to take care of, and to take care of me. People to nuture, and give to, to put before myself and sacrifice for. People to fold myself into and learn what they need and how I can give to them. And I'm selfish.
I have a family to honour and dishonour. To be thankful for and share love and memories with; and one day, when I go to university and then get married - maybe years after - to say good bye to.
I have friends; to give to and share life with and love and gain...and lose.
Some day, I'll have someone who will never get over me and will ask me to marry him.
I have God, and I don't know why. A love from Him that will never leave, mercy that will never cease, grace that will never lift, forgiveness that will never dry up. A love that will never treat me rationally.
And one day, I'll be old, and my heart will stop beating. My life will feel like a dream, just a fleeting moment, and I'll wonder as my lungs stretch in finality if I'll remember any of it in eternity; more than a vague discoloured dream?
This life is short, and there will never be another place like it. Encompassed in the murk and depravity of this world now, it seems endless and all-consuming. But one day, just one moment, one flutter of eyelids, one final heart beat, lungs will stop swelling with decisiveness, and that will change it all, and we will never be in darkness again.

"Our God is an all-consuming fire."
Consume me, Lord.

***

2006-01-16T20:00:00.000-08:00

just a thought before bed.

I'm stopping things. I'm stopping waiting for someone to come along who'll make me feel like I don't need to be someone else. I'm stopping looking over my shoulder at my mistakes. I'm stopping trying to escape myself. I'm stopping altering myself. I'm stopping swallowing the key everytime I'm about to be myself. I'm stopping searching for what I already have.

"Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken," Evanescence, Hello

and there was some beautiful thought this night when I drove to dance that I just can't remember.

2006-01-15T11:26:00.000-08:00

A Call to Love

***

I would never have noticed him in a crowd. He's just a person. Walking, breathing, thinking.

But if you knew him, there would be something different about him.

"Different", that word is thread-bare by now - "Be different! Stand out!" "You were made different, you're unique" "Don't rock the boat, unity is important" "Oh them...they're different"

He's different. He's gay. He knows how that word makes people shrink away. And he knows how everyone thinks they know all there is to know about it.

"He's gay" "She's a lesbian" - that's like a death sentence in the Christian circles. but its supposed to be an invitation for Christian love.

God is love. Thats what we (Christians) believe. We all nod sagely at this. We applaud Jesus in those chapters in the New Testament about the Pharisees and Sadducees who despised Jesus because he ate and spoke with sinners - prostitutes, tax collectors, diseased and poverty-stricken people. It seemed so stupid to them, so undignified, so improper. Jesus wants us to love people the way He did. But so often we love those who are like us, and judge those who aren't.

***

I would never have noticed him in a crowd.
He's just a person. Like everyone else.
He walks a little differently
a sort of delicate swagger,
and his tongue carries a lisp that makes the corners of peoples' mouths twitch.
He compliments girls on their clothes, without any eagerness in his eyes,
and they love it; and they hate it.
I try not to stare. He knows what that word does to people,
and the way they think they know all about it.
He sees me looking,
and with self-convinced pride, raises his nose a little higher.
Inside, I snort
with arrogance.
He walks past
and I get a wave of a tangy cologne.
My nose wrinkles; I assume
everything.
And he's gone and I'll never see him again.

***

I'll pretend I didn't stop and talk to him. and that I didn't see him trying to be manly because he didnt know me. but I did. in my head. and he told me some things I'll never forget.

2006-01-05T19:35:00.000-08:00

There are some things that feel very permanent right now that I hope won't stay much longer.

I was so little. My head, a shock of dark silky curls, my little hands waving everywhere with eager little fingers, my eyes alight and sparkling with such young innocence, my round belly pronouncing my childhood, and four little white teeth stood neatly in a row at the front of my bottom jaw like the gate of a white picket fence. I couldnt stick out my tongue without spitting, and laughed like a drunk person.

I'm leaning over my gifts, caressing them like cats, that Teema hands to me from under the tree, hugging them in pure joy. I run and throw my little arms around Jad's neck thanking him through giggles. He grins over my shoulder. Somehow he loves me so much even though I give him nothing.

In my ballet class I'm a fire cracker let go inside. I prance, gallop, leap, twirl, endlessly and you can see on my face its exactly what I want to be doing. But I did the dances, with precision. I was one of the best in my class...I always have been. And I'm grateful to God for it. I crash stop into my teacher's lap and my pink tutu suddenly becomes a half moon.

Then I was 5. I'm quieter now but you can see the bright activity still pulsating behind my eyes, something jumping under my skin. I dance everywhere.
6 years old, everything was an ecstatic explosion, everything an uncontainable delight. I look like a wriggling star fish as I eat my birthday cake.

Even back then James and I were best friends in an unspoken but immovable way.

8 years old. Didn't I ever think of anyone but myself? I'm not old enough to think about the way I look yet but I'm old enough to know how to get attention.

I've been watching home videos....some of them are treasure troves of happiness. Others...just because I'm the youngest do I have to be this way?

I found a paper today, lying on my desk. I dont know what it was for but it had all these virtues on it, and definitions of them along with Bible verse references for each. Truthfulness, self-control, sensitivity, compassion, dependability, forgiveness...so many more. I was put to such shame. I couldn't say that I was one of them. And I call myself a Christian?

I'm overwhelmed by it. I'm all-consumed. I'm biting my nails. It says,

LOVE vs. Selfishness - giving to others' basic needs without having personal reward as my motive.
LOYALTY vs. Unfaithfulness - Using difficult times to demonstrate my commitment to God and to those whom He has called me to serve.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails" - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

What do I do to call myself a Christian?

I was reading Summer's blog today. She quoted this man, and I'm going to requote it here:

"I've taken some heat over the years for the commentary on living the Christian life that I often weave into my seminars on youth culture. I get that "you're nuts!" look from many in the audience when I complain about the false notions of what it means to live under the Lordship of Christ that we so easily pass on to our young people. "Come to Jesus and your life will be so much better – even perfect" is a message I remember hearing when I was younger. Sadly, we still preach this imbalanced notion. As I've gotten older, I realize it really hasn't worked out that way at all. Yes, I have peace and hope. I find great joy in the assurance that my life has been bought and secured at a great price. But I often feel helpless, miserable, and anything but happy. The way I sometimes state it is this: "I came to faith years ago. But when I look in the mirror I think I'm a more miserable person now than I ever was. There's something about the connection between growing in faith and seeing more and more of my spiritual darkness exposed by the Light that leaves me feeling miserable." I'm not sure how to explain it any other way. Perhaps the more I ponder Christ, the less likely I am able to think of myself more highly than I ought. Grace becomes amazingly real. I find I'm in good company when I read the Psalms and see my mood reflected in the psalmist's words of lament. I'm forced to remember that Jesus invites his followers to "take up your cross and follow" rather than "put on your happy dancing shoes and let's go dancing." In the March 2005 edition of Christianity Today, interviewer Mark Galli asked Eugene Peterson – one of my favorite writers – for his thoughts on Christian spirituality. Galli said to Peterson, "Many people assume that spirituality is about becoming emotionally intimate with God." I think Galli's statement hit on a hugely erroneous notion that's at the root of our misconceptions about what life will be like when we "come to Jesus." I love Peterson's response: "The promise of intimacy is both right and wrong. There is an intimacy with God, but it's like any other intimacy; it's part of the fabric of your life. In marriage you don't feel intimate most of the time. Nor with a friend. Intimacy isn't primarily a mystical emotion. It's a way of life, a life of openness, honesty, transparency." Peterson goes on. "If you read the saints, they're pretty ordinary people. There are moments of rapture and ecstasy, but once every 10 years. And even then it's a surprise to them. They didn't do anything. We've got to disabuse people of these illusions of what the Christian life is. It's a wonderful life, but it's not wonderful in the way a lot of people want it to be." Perhaps that's a message we need to trumpet quite a bit more."

Its so true. Knowing God is not a feel-good solution, its not a fuzzy peachy feeling that makes us giggle and blush. The more we know Christ, the more we see how we pale in comparison, how short we fall of God's glory, how justly we deserve what Jesus endured for us. I find myself tearing at this old flesh of mine, wanting to crucify my sin. I'm running with my arms full of regrets and guilt, where do we put these? I know where, but I cant believe it. What does He want with me?

I think I'll struggle with this all my life. When I first felt it, I thought there was something wrong with me. Like I was bound for hell because I didnt always felt breath-taken-away in love with God. And I'll have to keep reminding myself what He's taught me these past two years. I keep coming back to this feeling though, of sinfulness. Of unworthiness before God. And I think I always should know it. But the more I get to know Him, the more at peace I am with the hope He gives.

I was a sinner before I even knew it. While I watched those movies a subtle sense of dread started seeping over me...I am who I was. That soul-thing, it is me. My family chuckled at me parading a new hair clip around the living room on christmas eve, but I was noticing Jad in the background putting a book down that he had just unwrapped and wanted to read from to us.
Why hadn't I noticed then?

The home videos are just a tidbit of the feeling. But my whole self...I see more clearly now. What just seemed habits...my unkind words suddenly have a frightening link to the toy I grabbed out of another child's hands when I was little. And I start to realize I cant just grow out of sin.

"I'm a terrible person and there's no way out of it" A friend and I shared that feeling a bit ago. This may make our God sound heartless, but I think its what He wants me to realize. That there is no way out of my sinfulness and no solution to my depravity except His Son. My bridegroom. A heartless God wouldnt have provided that salvation. Not for a wretch like me. Not with His blameless Son.

What do I do to call myself a Christian? I fall on my knees and repent. And Jesus does the rest.

2006-01-03T15:01:00.000-08:00

Which is worse? To regret doing something or regret not doing something? I think, one isn't worse than the other. Except, sometimes I think not doing is worse...depends. But neither is avoidable.

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She looked up at him and frowned.
"And? So? What am I gonna do about it?" There was something so unconvincing in her eyes. Like she was actually asking him what she would do about it.
His honest blue eyes shook; he was earnest and nervous, and he had an answer.
"Just carry on. Because nothing happened."
She huffed and rolled her eyes but didn't argue. He sat down beside her and she wouldnt look at him. She muttered "nothing" under her breath, somewhat hopefully. He took the chance.
"Nothing thats that big a deal," He paused. "He's not mad at you, you know," he said cautiously.
She flinched. Her anger was such a thin defense. He relaxed.
"You're doing this to yourself."
Her eyes flared up and her lips pinched together.
"Oh, yeah, thanks for blaming it on me! Of course its all my fault!" she yelled, and stalked off.
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I dunno. I do know that its not worth freezing yourself in one moment for the rest of your life, or locking something up inside you, or shutting off a part of you so that you won't make mistakes or do things you'll regret. There is no personality that doesn't make mistakes. There's no big solution. In fact the only compensation for mistakes is the good you also live despite mistakes. Thats why its so important to move on after things happen and get over the regret, not get locked up in your pain. And all the painful memories of the stupid things you've done, they come back to haunt you, but thats the devil trying to discourage you. "But the giant's calling out my name and he laughs at me, reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed, the giant keeps on telling me time and time again, girl you'll never win, never win" ...giant...devil...devil...giant :P btw, that song is Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns.

so...thats done :D so simple...so...important though. and its not simple! I'll struggle with it all my life...now thats somewhat discouraging...*goes and locks self up in pain* :P

I dont REALLY feel like posting this but I will. here I go *click*

p.s isnt it adorable...that the person you're going to fall in love with, you're going to fall in love with their faults in a way too? like, not only will your good characteristics coincide with his good characteristics, but so will both your bad characteristics. I think God plans our faults to click too, so you'll be compatible in every way. if that makes any sense. I think thats romantic..cause its like, theres no badside to him that way :D:D:D:D:D cause his bad side will compliment your bad side, and vice versa. taaaah...*melts in her fairytale* I hope I'm right.

2005-12-26T20:29:00.000-08:00

and then theres times when I'm just happy. I'm sitting here kind of funnily in my office chair, and the extent of my concentration is chewing a piece of cheese. I'm not worried particularly about anything at the moment. Just, eating cheese...
"Dont worry, there will be a time when I'll want to go to parties just because you'll be there."--"You're in my dreams, even if just walking in the backdrop, you're there; you never leave. maybe that will make you blush one day."
"You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love...I love you" - Darcy, Pride and Prejudice
"She's second nature to me now...I've grown accustomed to her face" - 'enry 'iggins, My Fair Lady
"I find I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind" Collide, by Howie Day
no deep thoughts, no profound discoveries tonight..jusssst, float float floooating...

2005-12-22T12:59:00.000-08:00

What am I afraid of?

I'm afraid of a world without seatbelts or railings. I'm afraid of grabbing that big red balloon and it lifting me into the air, carrying me above the fair grounds and everything else I've thought of. Afraid of what will happen if I stop fighting the water in the swimming pool.
Imagine that.

Somehow, all I want is all I fear. I'm afraid of reaching out for the misty yellow birds in case they turn into ferocious bats. Of feeling things, in case they'll turn on me. I'm afraid of looking a dream in the eye and finding its overrated. Of being scolded for being so naive as to still believe in commonplace things. I have to be armed with pessimism so I dont get caught off guard. Smarter than that.

When you grow up you're given a box. And everything you see has to fit in that box. This box is called sense. And if you lose the box you've gone stark raving bonkers.

I'm afraid of losing the box that, even if imprisoning, at least connects me with others. Of letting go of these clutches for fear that me, this person I dont know, is disgraceful. Is that discrediting my Maker? Or realizing my depravity? Or completely forgetting Jesus?

And if I dont think before I talk or write, who knows what would come out of my mouth? I dont. Thats what I'm afraid of - of what I want to do and say; think.

I wince at the thought of needing to be fed with a babyspoon and someone having to wipe the dribble off my chin. Of fighting over a toy just because its important to me.

Here I go, slip-sliding down a dark interior slope, taking inventory and feeling left with a long shopping list.

I'd like to outrun everything thats chasing me.

I'd like to wake up, lace up brand new running shoes, step out of the front door and run somewhere but not think of where and not care where I end up.

Afraid to be an emptyheaded fool who believes in fairytales like innocence, and selflessness, miracles, impossible things, trust, and love.

I need to spend my life covering up this weird creature inside my body that tells me to do the strangest things. I love this creature but its a threat. And if I trust it, I wont be like anyone else. Good or bad?

I'm afraid of myself.

2005-12-20T18:48:00.000-08:00

It was exactly what I needed. A walk alone in the library.
I looked on all the levels, in all the sections, finding a few groves of books here and there with topics that really interested me. I especially liked the main floor; it was the largest with rows and rows of shelves crammed with books that smelled funny and had ripped plastic coverings. You could make yourself feel lost in those rows, as if everything you knew was miles away. I liked that feeling. There were books on EVERYTHING. Books on phsycology, history, understanding your teenager, cooking, interpretting your dreams, biographies, medieval music, and Islam. My brain was bubbling - it sounds dorky but I found it thrilling that there was so much information at my finger tips. For an hour I could teach myself about anything - anything that I wanted to know about.
No one knew me. It was great! No one was wondering what I was doing there for an hour by myself. There was no one screaming "YOU'RE TWO MODULES BEHIND IN EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF LAST WEEK!", well, there was one in my head, but I could ignore that. No one else heard it. And no one else could hear the little voice of insecurity in my head either. For all they knew I could have been studying for some big important project. Or from out of town. Or...all sorts of other interesting things you imagine about strangers you see.
In the end I settled down in a corner with a book about mythology of the British Isles. the cover is ugly and stained but everything inside it is bright. I checked it out of the library.

2005-12-19T14:50:00.000-08:00

Physcology Joke

Hello, and welcome to the mental health hotline.....

If you're obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.

If you're codependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, press 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6....

If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on the line so we can trace your call.

If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be transferred to the mother ship.

If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a small voice will tell you which number to press.

If you are a manic-depressive, it doesn't matter which number you press, no one will answer.

If you have amnesia, press 8 and state your name, address, telephone number, date of birth, social security number, and your mother's maiden name.

If you have post traumatic stress disorder, s-l-o-w-l-y and c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y press 0 0 0.

If you have bipolar disorder, please leave a message after the beep or before the beep or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have low self-esteem, please hang up. All operators are too busy to talk to you.

If you are menopausal, hang up, turn on the fan, lie down and cry. You won't be crazy forever.

If you are blonde don't press any buttons, you'll just mess it up.

2005-12-17T13:09:00.000-08:00

wow! blog throw up! but I just cant stop...:P

Your Eyes Should Be Gray

Your eyes reflect: Intensity and drive

What's hidden behind your eyes: A sensitive soul

What Color Should Your Eyes Be?

Your Observation Skills Get A B

Your senses are pretty sharp (okay, most of the time)

And it takes something big to distract you!

How Observant Are You?

You Have a Choleric Temperament

You are a person of great enthusiasm - easily excited by many things.

Unsatisfied by the ordinary, you are reaching for an epic, extraordinary life.

You want the best. The best life. The best love. The best reputation.

You posses a sharp and keen intellect. Your mind is your primary weapon.

Strong willed, nothing can keep you down. Your energy can break down any wall.

You're an instantly passionate person - and this passion gives you an intoxicating power over others.

At your worst, you are a narcissist. Full of yourself and even proud of your faults.

Stubborn and opinionated, you know what you think is right. End of discussion.

A bit of a misanthrope, you often see others as weak, ignorant, and inferior.

What Temperment Are You?

I went a little nuts on the test site too, as you can see...
I was going to post the Which One Of Santa's Reindeer Are You? but it was very untrue - said I was Comet.

2005-12-16T20:28:00.000-08:00

laaa I'm so tired tonight. *smacks tongue twice* yeugh. i dislike being tired. sleepy is a whole other thing though...

I was going to post that test going around about what colour your blog should be (lol for a second there I started repeating myself, I was typing "what colour your blog should your blog should your blog should" haha!!) but then it lost its appeal. so...I didnt.

you know, I love chocolate and cheese, but I go through moods where I want rich foods like them and then I dont. right now, I'm in one of those rich food moods. yumo.

I love lists. but this is already long so I dont think I'll post any lists tonight. wow, I never blog so my posts are so jumbled and full of everything. not very organized emotionally. ha. that sounds funny. like a disorder - UES: Unorganized Emotional Syndrome lol oh my, thats triggering all sorts of funny senarios in my head now..."so tell me...are you unorganized emotionally?" "NO YES MAYBE" lol, that was a waste of time that I enjoyed.

um, so I think I'll be blogging more from now on. somehow, I have an inkling. but tonight everything is a complete jumble. like a pile of laundry that needs to be folded. mmm, warm laundry fresh from the dryer!...ok I have to make a list of some things I really like before I go.

- fresh laundry warm from the dryer
- good books
- emails I'm excited to open
- hot showers
- tissues infused with lotion...you know what I mean
- french
- cashmere and twead
- old out-dated things that no one wants to buy but are ugly in a beautiful way (like the print in the pic)
- candles

good night <3

2005-12-16T17:48:00.000-08:00

Goodbye

I wish I could say goodbye to these things. I wish I could bury them in the Moon, or tie them to a millstone in the ocean, or just forget them in a dusty attic. I wish I could, but I can't.

1. Goodbye to selfishness.
2. Goodbye to using my sarcasm to be mean to obnoxious, rude people (I cant even feel bad about it writing it down here as a confession...ITS THEM ITS THEM ITS THEIR FAULT NARRRR yep, thats what I'm thinking...)
3. Goodbye to holding grudges.
4. Goodbye to discontentment.
5. Goodbye to dry colourless math (ha-ha-ha)
6. Goodbye to bad memories.
7. Goodbye to procrastinating.
8. Goodbye to fear and distrust.
9. Goodbye to saying goodbye to the wrong people.
10. Goodbye to thinking that there's a dead boogy man under my bed. yes, dead.
11. Goodbye to thinking that people don't need my help.

There's nothing glorious about these confessions. Nothing heroic in admitting to the dirty corners of your heart. They (among other sin) are what make me a sinful person, a fallen creature. Apart from God, unholy. Its amazing when we get those momentary glimpses at what we really are - its disheartening. I wish I could forget them. Discard them, lose them. Its discouraging, but at the same time..it makes you a perfect candidate for God's grace.

"Take all my iniquities upon You. Have mercy on me, have mercy on me." Fall Slow Tears (a choral piece)

Sometimes its hard to think of sin in you. You think you can count your sins on one hand. But sometimes there's this huge eye-opener into your person and you see all this dirt and you're kind of blown away by how human you are. I was reading Joel and Adam's blog the other day and they were saying "Believer, quit diminishing the power of the cross and the love of your Father by deceiving yourself into thinking that you are somehow good! Dare to make God the almighty God that he is, and the love of Christ the compelling love that it is! Your sin is too much for you to bear!! That's why He died for you!"

I think thats sending the same messgae as 2 Cor. 12: 9 "But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient, for my power is made perfect in weakness". Its hard, to abandon your own pride and sufficiency (or lack there of) and live through God, surviving solely on His power and mercy and grace. wow, its so hard! you go through spiritual mood swings where you think you're ok and then the opposite where you feel like you're beyond all help (teeenaaage hooormoneess..but not entirely). Its so hard to have faith that He will provide, to believe that He is my portion, to know that the Lord is my shepherd - and I'll not want.

That is the gospel - God's undying love for you, Jesus' sacrifice and sufficiency and redemption for you, the Holy Spirit's presence and work and transformation in you. That is the good news. And it is good news, literally, in a very basic, simple sense.

It makes a beautiful and somehow...fragile, paradox, doesnt it? Ugly but beautiful, filthy but made pure, unholy but made holy, estranged from God but reconciled, a fallen creature made a new creation, depraved but redeemed...it goes on. and its hard to live with, for me at least, in my head - to be perfect in imperfection. "Glory in disglory" like Summer says. mm. its mind-boggling. and hard to swallow, even though its so wonderful. our nature as humans is to resist extravagant grace, our natural instincts tell us we need to do something to gain something. but thats not how God's grace is. His love is endless, immeasurable, priceless, unfathomable, inconceivable to humans. which is why faith is so important. and so slippery.

so we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. because He is how it all makes sense. He is the bridge between us and God. the propitiation for our sin. the glorious and life-saving irrationality. He is our newfound logic, which defies all other earthly logic. "How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure, that He should give His only Son, to make a wretch His treasure" who does that? who gives Jesus, the spotless pure beloved Son for wretches? thats us, the wretches. and we're His. all His.
it is truly how we know what love is.

2005-12-10T19:16:00.000-08:00

Yvonne Kandalaft
Beloved wife, mother, grandmother

How can you begin to describe a person? Do you start with their name? Or how they look? Or what they like to do? None of it really seems to paint the person herself. But maybe what they did to the people around them says something, since if nothing else thats what you remember. My teita (Arabic for grandma) was a mother in every way. She always gave an extra kiss, four instead of the customary three. She brought us chocolate which smelled like her strong perfume every time she saw us and only stopped recently because my mom and aunt made her. She fussed over us in little things you would think didnt matter but made you feel loved and cared for. She was always rubbing your arm or holding your hand. She was a worrier and called us every day, she knew our weekly schedule and what we all did and where we went. She couldnt drive or do things like that but she always brought the best mashed potatoes to Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners. She would buy us stuff and spoil us and treat you like little kids no matter how old you were but not in a condescending way at all. It was her way of telling us she loved us. She was quiet and shy but when she talked she was very witty. She had something girlish about her, something youthful and delightfully frivolous under her wrinkled skin and dyed-black hair. She loved to tease and laugh and have fun, she loved fun girly things like new clothes and pretty jewellery and nice hair. I guess that shows how your soul is something totally different from your body. But the two are curiously entwined. Why should the person leave when their earthly confines are broken?

It happened on Saturday. I was happy. I'd just come home from my friend's birthday party, all bright-eyed and cheerful even if sleepy. We were having an AWM (Arab World Ministries) Christmas dinner party at our place. And in the middle of it we got the phone call.

My grandma and grandpa were visiting in Michigan when it happened. They were visiting family there and staying at a relative's house. She got up in the morning, got dressed, probably put on a lot of strong perfume like she always does. Did.
She came out and said good morning and just missed the kitchen door. Beside it were the stairs to the basement.

They said they could operate to stop the hemriging and severe internal bleeding in her brain, but there would be only 40% of her making it through, and even if she did she would be paralysed from the neck down and couldn't speak. She also couldnt see already; and grandpa was so old, he already took care of her in every possible way; she would be in a prison in her body. They gave her two hours on the oxygen. They had to make the decision in fifteen minutes, to operate or not. We decided not to, to let her go, for her sake.

She couldnt feel any pain the doctors said, becuase she was in a coma, but they said she could hear everything they were saying. My aunt who was there talked to her. She said she had to let go. She talked about every single one of us. My grandpa, my parents, my other aunts, all our cousins...she told her about how happy we all were and what good lives we were going to have and how much we loved her. My grandma heard it all. My aunt told her to let go, for her sake, it would be better, and she had to stop fighting. Once she said that, her heartbeat dropped. And just as my grandpa walked in and said hello she said goodbye.

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things." - The Reptile Room, A Series of Unfortunate Events, by Lemony Snicket

That night Pastor John came over. Sam and Jad came over. We talked about all these strange things like burial services, and transferring her body from the States to Canada for burial. As if she were a package.

On Sunday I kept crying through the morning service. We sat with friends. Mom and dad were in Michigan. Teema didn't know yet, she was in Ottawa with Josh. James and I had to tell her that night when she got back. I almost thought it was harder than being told.

Monday. I didn't want to go to our choir concert. I was afraid of crying in front of everyone and somehow thought it would make the pain hurt more. But we were too involved not to go. So we went. I couldnt cry all day. I prayed all the way there. I started crying with my friends. Then I went up with the choir to sing and couldnt stop crying. Mrs Schuurman hugged me just then and gave her condolences and I really couldnt stop it then, I tried to get out of Mrs Vandenhaak's hug quick so I could get to the washroom.

In the middle of it all an amazing sense of love came through. I didn't know how many girls followed me into the washroom - and stayed with me. Until I stopped crying and they made me laugh about something. I was so thankful for all my friends. Am thankful. And it helped so much to cry with everyone. It did make it more real but it also made healing more real.

I didnt want to do the concert that night, I was afraid I'd start crying and not be able to stop - in front of everyone. But Mrs Schuurman and Mrs Vandenhaak talked to me about it and encouraged me to do it. Everyone was hugging us and saying sorry. Everyone was so gentle and sympathetic. It was probably one of my best concerts as far as performing went, because it wasnt me singing or smiling.

Tuesday was the funeral. I was afraid again, this time of seeing my grandma in the casket; it just sounded kind of disturbing. It was very hard for my grandpa. My aunt was trying to be strong and support everyone but when she came out of the room alone with my older cousin she was crying as hard as all of us. My mom...my dad helped my grandpa. Teema and Josh stood holding each other. James, my two cousins and me sat on a couch and didnt say anything to each other. We just passed each other tissues.

Death Be Not Proud

John Donne

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

I hated the ceremony at the Coptic church. Something about the haunting minor tune the priests chanted, or maybe the smelly incense, or maybe how they mentioned the Virgin Mary as if she could do anything, or maybe just the way it was so dry and traditional. I used up a very thick napkin that I found in my pocket.

When they roll out the casket in funerals is the part that moves me most. At the burial ground I couldnt cry. Until people started hugging me again. Its very embarassing to get snot on someone's coat. I knew they didnt care though. All the drives inbetween were very silent. I don't think any of us appreciated the luxurious limo at all.

Again, I couldnt cry at the reception afterwards.

This morning I woke up. The day felt quiet. I slept in. Just as I got out of bed my mom came rushing upstairs. Sam, my brother's wife, slipped on the stairs. She was fine, but she's 8 months pregnant and her pants were wet. They rushed her to the hospital with my mom and my aunt. The half hour between when my mom left and when my mom called saying the baby was ok (thank God) was the worst of the whole week. It felt like a bad joke, the way it was right after my grandma's death and ironically had to do with stairs too. I was mad at God. But at the same time He was the only one with me there, kind of holding out His arms saying "This is my will, and here I am to carry you through it". Everything we stand in need of...
I didnt know what to do, I wanted to call someone, to help, to do something but there was nothing to do but wait. But I had to do something to keep my head straight. So I pulled out the hymnal and found this song.

Be Still, My Soul

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side;
bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
leave to your God to order and provide;
in every change he faithful will remain.
Be still my soul: your best, you're heavenly Friend through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
to guide the future as he has the past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still my soul: the waves and winds still know his voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
and all is darkened in the vale of tears,
then shall you better know his love, his heart,
who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears.
Be still, my soul: your Jesus can repay from his own fullness all he takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on,
when we shall be forever with the Lord,
when disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past, all safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Katharina von Schlegel, 1752

"The ransomed of the Lord will return. Everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away." Isaiah 35: 10

Praise the Lord.

2005-11-24T09:43:00.000-08:00

From the top of the hill, I pointed out Pike Forest, but beyond that there was nothing but grey gloom, rising from the ground and falling from the sky. We couldn't see the violet hills or the shadowy shapes of the Black Mountains.
"Wales isn't there," I said, "but it is there."
"There's a word for that," said Grace, frowning.
"Paradox," I replied. "Something that seems to contradict itself."
Grace smiled. "You're a paradox," she said, and for a moment she took my arm. "Isn't there, but is there," she slowly repeated. "In that case, Wales is a matter of faith."

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On our way down to church for Terce this morning, Grace nudged me and said under her breath: "Try to find out."
"What?"
"Betrothal."
"I will," I said, "but my father never tells me anything."
Lights were dancing in Grace's eyes. "We can't often see each other," she said, "but we can still be like Wales to each other."
"What do you mean?"
"A matter of faith," said Grace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I love that book. Those are two excerpts from one of my favourite series about Arthur - you know, King Arthur? Well...not exactly. Its about a boy named after King Arthur but he lives many years later than King Arthur did. Late enough so that King Arthur was a tale. This boy lives in the year 1199 on the Welsh Marches and knows Merlin (I guess Merlin is impervious to time). Merlin gives this boy-named-Arthur a stone which Arthur soon finds out is a seeing stone. In it he sees the life of King Arthur unfold as a story over a number of years. Although most movies and books you see about King Arthur are set in the Middle Ages - 1200-1400? - King Arthur is actually originally set even farther back, in like...800 AD (I think the new movie they just made about King Arthur is set in the original time period). The English were still bushmen so I dont think Queen Guinevere possessed much divine beauty. Actually...back then, I guess if you were beautiful you must have been divinely beautiful because it was all natural, they didn't have a fraction of the kinds of beauty products we have now and certainly not half as advanced...

Lol, anyway, straying here. That was Arthur talking to his cousin Grace (its written in first person perspective, the perspective being Arthur's). They're only 13! Arthur is 13, and Grace is 12, they're cousins, and they want to be married (betrothed)....glad I don't live back then...no time to be children.

You should all read these books! They're amazingly written, his style is really...I dont know, it really grabs you and is very distinct. His description is short but expressive and effective, and his characters are realisitc and vivid. Also, it doesn't portray the Middle Ages as a time of prancing unicorns and pixies and princesses. Arthur finds out that his father is actually not his father but his uncle, and that his biological father killed his biological mother's husband so as to have her (complicated, yes). Consequently Arthur's hopes of marrying his cousin Grace are dashed because she is now...his sister (whoa!!). During his time as a squire at Lord Stephen's manor he hears of the dispiccable priest who has been abusing his powers. Later he goes on the crusades with Lord Stephen, and becomes terribly aware of the horrors of warfare and all the gruesome acts involved. Forget times of war! Usually life in the Middle Ages was hardly safe let alone peaceful. And cruelly, when Arthur comes back home from the crusades, his betrothed, a wilful girl named Winnie, is in love with Arthur's brother Tom.

yep, its incredible. read it!! they're written by Kevin Crossley-Holland. i need to find more of his work...this Arthur trilogy just whetted my appetite.

2005-11-21T18:41:00.000-08:00

Shakespeare
Sonnet 116
The Picture of True Love

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come,
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

"Greater love has no one than this, that He lay down his life for His friends." John 15:13

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." Galatians 2:20

"Love is not the world, neither the things that are in the world." 1 John 2:15

"Husbands, love your wives just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her." Ephesians 5:25

"Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love...This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins." 1 John 4:8,10

"The Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son." Hebrews 12:6

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us." 1 John 4:18-19

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35, 37-39

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us." 1 John:3:16

Shakespeare knew what he was talking about - true love is everlasting and selfless.

2005-10-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

Here's another post on how we're not kids anymore...

My stuffed animals. Scary things coming into my window because it was so close to the roof ledge. When my friends across the street would come play. Sunday school. If mom found out I took that cookie...twirl, dancing in front of the mirror in my white tutu.

Those were the things in my head when I was little. Everything about life seemed so impossibly far away. Being a big person seemed so liberating, so wonderful; like some kind of secret that would make you happy forever. I used to think that growing up would get rid of all those fears...bad dreams, mom leaving me at a birthday party, swimming lessons. But bigger fears are introduced. And the most basic things we built off of are removed. We find out our parents are people too with flaws and shortcomings. They're not that perfect, generic lifespring of protection and answers; they are people, they have souls, fears, doubts, dreams, needs, hopes...faults; and that we still will when we're their age. That life isn't an hourglass tipped over on a perfection half. That your soul doesn't just refine itself. That we will always know how to cry the way we did when we were children. We find out that money is important. That no one will protect you the way they did when you were little and going shopping with mummy and daddy. That you become solitary. In a way, alone.

And yet, a blossoming island if you stand in the Sun.

2005-10-24T19:47:00.001-07:00

Blah blah blah....

"So Judas kissed his master and cried, 'All hail!' when as he meant all harm." - Henry VI, Shakespeare

Why do people talk so much bull?
Blah blah blah
Hello, goodbye. I love you, I hate you. Be with me, get away. Are people ever genuine? When did honesty become a nice old-fashioned "virtue"? People spew poetry as soon as they would fire, and often the two are intertwined until your enemy is your friend and the other way around...or the other way around...
But who's to judge when we take face-value so seriously?
And whose face has any value?
What are friends if they come and go? How can you take refuge in a shared moment with a friend if they wont be who they are to you in that moment a little bit later?
What should we say to the fearfully niave and open people who truly seek friendship and honesty? Unselfish love...
Can you not be like them and not be affected by them?

"One sees more devils than vast hell can hold." - A Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare

People say love is the only good thing in life, but where is it?
And truth and love, being so evasive then, how can we love like we've nothing to lose?
Get what you want. Be found out. Cover it up. Do it again.
Seek what you want. Be used. Do it again because its better than nothing.
Is there nothing better?
Will we ever know if we're always in haste to put on our masks and conceal the truth that is behind all our faces? To keep up the charade? Desperate to keep the fake love intact, if only to have the illusion of it.
Who will say bravo at the end of that show?

2005-10-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

Prayer
Louis Untermeyer

God, althouguh this life is but a wraith,
Althouguh we know not what we use,
Althouguh we grope with little faith,
Give me the heart to fight - and lose.

Ever insurgent let me be,
Make me more daring than devout;
From sleek contentment keep me free,
And fill me with a buoyant doubt.

Open my eyes to visions girt,
With beauty, and with wonder lit -
But let me always see the dirt,
And all that spawn and die in it.

Open my ears to music; let
Me thrill with Spring's first flutes and drums -
But never let me dare forget
The bitter ballads of the slums.

From compromise and things half-done,
Keep me, with stern and stubborn pride.
And when, at last, the fight is won,
God keep me still unsatisfied.

2005-10-17T10:49:00.000-07:00

The Look
Sara Teasdale

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

2005-10-13T09:02:00.000-07:00

A feeling
A feeling took us over
No matter when it began
Its almost like we're not ourselves anymore
After what happened.
We used to be kids
Now what are we?
We're other people. Who don't even know each other anymore.

Somewhere, when we thought it was time to become big people - we became giants.

We don't remember what it was to be quiet. Or what a true smile was.
Everything has an angle.
Someone is out to get us.

Jealousy, envy, hatred and lust, mutiny, despair, cruelty, pride. Where did these come from?
We were just kids.
This can't be what big people are.
We're cutthroat. Survivors. Prey. Hunters too. And love?

Where did love go?
Have we forgotten how to love each other?
It just takes one wrong word now, one false pretence - and it is no more.

We throw each other away.

Have we become too strong to need each other?

Or too weak for our wounds to heal and move on?
We were supposed to become stronger.
Wiser.
Kinder.
Better.
But now we just know how to kill.

We got older, but now we faint from a slight cut. We fall from a small blow.

Everything is too much. One hurt, and we can't forget.

Bigger. Shouldn't we be bigger?

The older we get, the weaker. We are broken and can't be fixed.

We have no friends. Because there are none.
We are not friends, because none of us are willing.

We are afraid. Giants, afraid of pain.

All of us are bruised from each other person.
With downcast eyes, hoping no one will say it out loud.

Without humility.

What are we?

2005-10-11T15:58:00.000-07:00

The Glove and the Lions
Leigh Hunt

King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;
The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,
And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge with one for whom he sighed:
And truly t'was a gallant thing to see that crowning show, -
Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,
Till all the pit with sand and mane, was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air:
Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there!"

De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, - a beateous, lively dame,
With smiling lips and sharp, bright eyes, which always seemed the same:
She thought, "The Count, my lover, is brave as brave can be,-
He surely would do wonderous things to show his love of me.
Kings, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;
I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be mine."

She dropped her glove to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:
The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.
"In faith," cried Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat;
"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that."

2005-10-06T18:56:00.000-07:00

I have sidebangs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yes, its finally happened ^_^ I've wanted them for a long time but a lot of people thought they wouldn't look good. but they do!!!!!!!! and they suit my face and everything!!! i love them!! aaagh i love bangs so much. thats probably why i love emo guy hair, its ALL bangs lol. yes, thats right, emo guys are cute. i dont think any guys come to my blog so its pretty safe to talk about this lol. but I'll stop :P
so yeah, I put it off because I was like errr...k...so many people are like no it wont suit your face so I was really afraid to do it. but today i was like darn it all to heck! and i did it :D and my mom did actually. i was like whimpering the whole time, i was so worried! lol but i love them! AAH! they've become part of me...i cannot do without them...and i dont want the day to come when they grow out. but i'll just cut them again then. AH they've given me the spice and change that I've wanted in my hair for so long. and then the streaks...and then perming it. I'll look quite different.

2005-09-26T09:24:00.000-07:00

wow, look I'm posting, its actually happening...lol and its just this. I'm doing school ok? :P
Put an X through anything you've done and leave it blank if you
haven't done it all. BE TRUTHFUL!! You may learn a little more about your
friends than you thought...
Then SEND IT TO ME AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS!
( ) smoked a cigarette
( ) smoked a cigar
( ) crashed a friend's car
( ) stolen a car
( ) been in love
( ) been dumped
(x) shoplifted - i was small and thought that i could taste test at the bulk barn :P
( ) been fired
( ) been in a fist fight
( ) snuck out of my parent's house
(x) had feelings for someone who didnt have them for you
( ) been arrested
( ) gone on a blind date
(x) had a crush on a teacher - he was 16!!!! shut up lysha!! ;)
(x) skipped school
( ) seen someone die
(x) uhm i live in canada
(x) been to Canada
( ) been to Mexico
(x) Been to the U.S.
(x) been on a plane
( ) eaten shushi
(x) been snowboarding
(x) been moshing at a concert
( ) been in an abusive relationship(friend or lover)
(x) Taken pain killer
(x) love someone or miss someone right now
(x) laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
(x) made a snow angel
(x) had a tea party
(x) flown a kite
(x) built a sand castle
(x) gone puddle jumping - i love doing this :D
(x) played dress up
(x) jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) gone sledding
(x) cheated while playing a game - i was playing cheat...
(x) been lonely
(x) fallen asleep at work/school
( ) used a fake id
(x) watched the sun set
(x) felt an earthquake
(x) touched a snake
(x) slept beneath the stars
(x) been tickled
( ) been robbed
(x) been misunderstood
(x) won a contest
(x) run a red light - well not ME...the driver...a couple times lol
( ) been suspended from school
(x) been in a car accident - does ditching the car count as an accident?
(x) had braces - have
(x) felt like an outcast
(x) had deja vu - i love this feeling! its so strange!
(x) danced in the moonlight
(x) hated the way you look
( ) witnessed a crime
(x) questioned your heart
( ) been obsessed with post-it notes - no, have some people?..
(x) squished barefoot through the mud
(x) been lost
( ) been to the opposite side of the country
( ) swam in the ocean - agh i want to!
(x) felt like dying
(x) cried yourself to sleep
(x) played cops and robbers
(x) recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers
( ) sung karaoke - must must must!
(x) paid for a meal with only coins - probably
(x) done something you told yourself you wouldn't do
(x) made prank phone calls
(x) laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose/mouth - so fun :D
(x) caught a snowflake on your tongue
(x) danced in the rain
(x) written a letter to Santa Claus
( ) been kissed under the mistletoe
(x) watched the sun set with someone you care about
(x) blown bubbles
(x) made a bonfire
( ) crashed a party
(x) gone rollerskating/blading
(x) had a wish come true
(x) worn pearls
( ) told a complete stranger you loved them
(x) sang in the shower
(x) had a dream that you married someone - doesnt everyone?
( ) glued your hand to something
( ) got your tongue stuck to a flag pole
(x) worn the opposite sex's clothes - er, a hoodie here and there when i'm cold lol
( ) been a cheerleader
( ) sat on a roof top
(x) screamed at the top of your lungs
( ) done a one-handed cartwheel - lol i cant even do that with two hands!
( ) talked on the phone for more than 6 hours
(x) stayed up all night
( ) didn't take a shower for a week
( ) pick and ate an apple right off the tree
(x) climbed a tree
( ) had a tree house - well, it wasnt actually in a tree...
(x) are scared to watch scary movies alone
( ) believe in ghosts
( ) worn a really ugly outfit to school just to see what others say
( ) gone streaking
( ) played ding-dong-ditch(nicky nicky nine doors)
( ) played chicken
( ) jumped into a pool with all your clothes on
(x) been told you're hot by a complete stranger
( ) broken a bone
(x) been easily amused
( ) caught a fish then ate it
(x) caught a butterfly
(x) laughed so hard you cried
(x) cried so hard you laughed
( ) cheated on a test
( ) had a Britney Spears CD
(x) forgotten someone's name
(x) French braided someones hair

2005-09-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

Hanging By A Moment
Lifehouse

Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you

I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you

Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
I'll take your invitation
You take all of me

Now I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Just hanging by a moment here with you

There's nothing else to lose
There's nothing else to find
There's nothing in the world
That can change my mind
There is nothing else
There is nothing else
There is nothing else

Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you....

I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Just hanging by a moment here with you

Just hanging by a moment (here with you)
Hanging by a moment (here with you)
Hanging by a moment here with you

i love that song, so much. its my favourite song right now.

2005-08-28T18:51:00.000-07:00

I just got back from campfire yesterday. wow.
everything was awesome and amazing. now that i'm back everything is just sleep, read, sleep, shower sleep. wow, the campfires and chapels and cpds were awesome, the games and swimming were sooo fun! even when the guys were trying to throw us in, lol that was mildly hilarious. lol katie you're a big fat laugh, i love you so much. haha wasnt it like this wednesday? GAG!!!! rofl!! its the cow!! go find it!! haha the watergun...FEET ON THE CEILING!! lmao, i can do guy push ups!!!! k i'll stop it now. i'm still laughing!!! cheeeeee.
hey btw, guys do good wolf impersonations. or i guess, wolfinations. er, yeah. that stuff. lol that made our night outside way more amusing. thanks guys. and we didnt mean to scare you all on your way back from showers in the morning. aheh. i was probably still sleeping under the toilet paper we were teepeed with anyway :P
lol oh and i had one shower during the week, that was AWESOME!
i love our cabin. mwah!!! and the campfire at the end was amazing and so deep. wow. all the shoulders to rub and cry on. everyone sharing what was going on inside. it was amazing.
and the skits were awesome!!! mostly the counsellor ones but the guy cabin skits were frickin hilarious too!! girls...e for effort, some were funny ;) lol ours was so dumb, but it was a lot of fun. i'm a mere cat. rar. i mean, scurry! sniff! FLINCH!!! lmao.
the campfire game was awesome, and wasaga beach was soo much fun. w00p! lol i like our indian dance. btw, some people can really bust a cartwheel...yes. they can. believe it.
i miss camp. i'm going to go read, eat, and sleep some more. tomorrow i will shower again and repeat daily. yaay!
k, good night. peace out. wooow. I MISS EVERYONE!!!! i miss kate, katie, rachel, osmo, astro, kendra, cat, roslyn, brittni, kira, raquelle, marise, ashley, all the counsellors (strum, captain loddz, napoleon, smore, twix, muchacha, cheeka, duke, hugo, expresso, crocket, big d), and nikki, pete, bryan, dan, dj, nicole, roz, riley, and miriam!!! AAH! i miss you all SO frickin much!!! and i'm probably forgetting more people and i'm really sorry i love you anyway!! here's hugs and kisses for you all xoxoxoxo

2005-08-19T19:23:00.000-07:00

LOBSTER WORSHIP - DONT DO IT

2005-08-15T17:48:00.000-07:00

pink!
i'm happy that i'm blogging again! now that i have this blog here. and i'm so happy with it ^_^ i mean, not entirely yet, i still wanna change almost everything about it. i need someone to help me link it and learn how to write things on the sides and i would looooove it if i could find someone to make me a wicked template....*angel face*...;) yep, and i'll probably blog a lot more on this one. i feel like i've moved into a cute little house and i just wanna do everything to cozy it up and make me-ified. ~_~ blog sweet blog. probably the only thing about this blog that i dont want to change is the colour. its pink.
i like pink.
a lot.
obviously.
pink pink pink.
this blog is pink. and so am i. i am in essence pink...like, inSIDE. also red, brown, white, orange, green, and blue. but not purple. never purple. icky icky blah.
lol, what colour are YOU?
i'm also hyper!!!!!! and pretty happy right now.
wow this is stupid. my second post on my new beautiful blog is dumb ramblings about rainbows racists and ... ... ........ .. and....??......!!..! ...
and llamas! dont you love llamas?? i love all the dorky animals of the animal kingdom - ducks, llamas...other dorky animals too. but llamas the most. they look like sheep and giraff put together. lol i love them...their long funny necks...their funky noses...pointy ears...stick-legs...LOL its funny just thinking about them!!
CAMP IS NEXT WEEK!!!!
k, i'm done. im gonna go eat ice cream. now. and watch harry potter 3 CHACHA!

2005-08-14T13:04:00.000-07:00

I'm back!! I guess most of you know who I am and were at my old blog. yeah pretty much all of you, lol. well, I miss you all too much, and myspace was a nicer site yes, but I wanted to be here again. so, cherry bomb pie {remade} is my home now. not myspace. I just finished the first Harry Potter book and I'm already addicted! w00t! here's a shout out to my lovely sister for having a friend who lent us the rest of the series!
k, I'm on my way to church now, I'll post later! <3

1990-11-21T09:04:00.000-08:00

Shakespeare
Sonnet 116
The Picture of True Love

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come,
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

"Greater love has no one than this, that He lay down his life for His friends." John 15:13

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." Galatians 2:20

"Love is not the world, neither the things that are in the world." 1 John 2:15

"Husbands, love your wives just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her." Ephesians 5:25

"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:7-8

"Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love...This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins." 1 John 4:8,10

"The Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son." Hebrews 12:6

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us." 1 John 4:18-19

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35, 37-39

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us." 1 John:3:16

Shakespeare was right - true love is everlasting and selfless.