Just a quick note.

Things have improved here dramatically, and I'm sure it's because of everyone's prayers and support. I feel as though I've really connected with the kids here, and I'm getting used to the adults. I've also made friends with some of my housemates, so it isn't quite as awkward to be staying here. In fact, I went and played ultimate frisbee tonight, which I mentioned last week, and it was incredibly fun, not to mention everyone there was great.
Well, keep praying for us. God is really using us here, and we need your continued support.
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Just a heads up...

I put a new song on my myspace page. It's not anything spectacular and it's definitely not well recorded, but it's there so enjoy.

Sunday and Monday

First, before I get to Monday, let me start with Sunday.

I didn't realize that I had gotten used to going to church at least once (or twice or three times...) every weekend until I unquestioningly got up for church on Sunday morning. I think that's a good sign.
I have to say that Spirit & Truth Fellowship is a church after my own heart. They're technically CRC, but sort of seem NL-ish, in that they're a very diverse crowd. The thing that stood out most dramatically to me, however, was their worship. They sang several songs that I knew, one of them being Days of Elijah. But they sang those songs like they were the only songs in the world. At one point, I could swear that they'd stopped singing and were just screaming. I LOVED it. Plus, as a bonus, we sang several songs in Spanish.

Molly, Joe and I walked down to Dunkin' Donuts, the Hunting Park version of Starbucks, and got horrible coffee - that they sweetened despite our appeals against it - argh. I'm guessing their regular coffee is alright but whatever...the stuff I had was barely drinkable. Once I had my coffee, I managed to get in 4 very important phone conversations with people back in Lincoln, and also with my sister and brother-in-law. Thus, my Sunday passed by with no real issues.

Now...it's Monday.
The first problem? The fact that I slept in until 10:30. Thankfully, the teachers and Cynthia were very forgiving. Then add 3 more kids to my class, and you have my MONDAY.
We have one new kid, who is the cutest little boy in the world, but he really has a temper. His name is Quadir (spelling?). The biggest thing you all could do, if you're reading this, is send up a prayer on his behalf. The moment I got to class, I was bombarded with kids tattling on him, telling me they didn't like him, etc. Then, he was sort of stubborn about a variety of minor things, and ended up getting so upset that he threw a few things and was hurried out of the classroom by one of the teachers. I can understand how frustrating it would be to be a new kid in a class where no one likes you, and I tried to help him as much as possible. Please pray that God will give me wisdom on how to deal with him and how to LOVE him. He really needs love - that I can see really clearly.
For the most part, I had a pretty good day, though. The kids are fun, and I've been preparing some "lessons" for them to do tomorrow (body bingo anyone?). This afternoon, I got the chance to talk to Ryan more and get to know him a little better. He's also said that he'd take me to meet Shane Claiborne (which would be cool, but whatever). Apparently, he and Shane are friends...yeah. Anyway, I can't say how good it is that I got the chance to spend some time with Ryan, talking etc. God's really doing some cool stuff in my life and around me while I'm here, and this is one of the things He's done (as small as it may seem).
Well, I need to sleep, but I'm pretty excited about this week. On Wednesday, we're going swimming all day, and then on Friday we're going bowling. Yeah!
Keep praying for us and the kids in our classes, as well as the adults we work with (that are incredibly burned out and definitely need some prayer).

Saturday adventure

In honor of having Saturday completely free, Molly, Joe, Chris, and I took the train to center city and wandered around on South Street. South Street is a pretty famous part of Philly, being a street lined with shops and restaurants for every punk, hippie, emo, and weekend adventurer that happens to find themselves there. Here's a cool picture of some of the mosaics that we saw:

The mosaics were at the western end of South street, several blocks away from some of the cooler shops. I took a picture of one in particular that I thought looked cool (from the outside):

Chris, who knows exactly where everything is in this part of town, eventually took us to St. Peter's Episcopal Church (the place he likes to go to do his devotions), and we got a quick tour of the inside, and let me just say...very cool. George Washington went to church there occassionally, and we ended up sitting in the box he would occupy while an incredibly friendly historian told us all about the church and its history. This is my favorite part:

Well, if you know anything about me at all, you probably know that I really like history, so we split up at the church. Molly and Joe went back to South Street, and Chris directed me to the historic district (about four blocks north of this church), where he and I split up. I wandered down to Penn's Landing (which is unfortunately unremarkable), and then over to the street where Ben Franklin's house used to stand, then to Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell:

The alley to the site of Ben Franklin's house (which is no longer there)

Independence Hall

The Liberty Bell

Molly and Joe decided to stay downtown for some show, but Chris and I headed back. It was a long day of walking. I'm pretty exhausted from walking somewhere around 4 miles...? I'm definitely going back down there sometime before we leave. I feel like I only saw a tiny fraction of what I could see, and I'm pretty fortunate to have a few good guides in the house. Anyway, I'll talk to you soon.

Pictures!

These are some of the awesome kids I've been working with:

Red Group
Sisters
Bored on the bus ride to the parkTaking a break

Camp begins.

As you can imagine, my day started with Molly and Joe trying desperately to wake me up. But, fortunately, I managed to get up by 7:40, and we headed over to the camp just in time to see the kids arriving. We went over some basic stuff with Kate, the director, and we each picked a group that we would be with for the rest of the month. Molly is with the 2nd and 3rd graders, Joe is with the 4th and 5th graders, and I am with K-1st graders. I can't speak for Molly and Joe, but my group is totally awesome. I'm a novelty to them – a new person – so they were all hanging on me, talking to me, and whatever else. I have to say that my first day with them went really well. I was kind of worried that I had forgotten how to be patient with little kids – and it was only day one, so we'll see if that lasts. Fortunately, I handled the fighting, crying, shouting, etc. that goes along with a day with a bunch of 4-6 year olds, and I'm excited for tomorrow.
Tonight, after dinner, I joined one of the housemates, Chris on a journey to Temple University, where a group of his friends were meeting to play ultimate Frisbee. I wasn't really interested in playing so much as watching, so I sat around and watched them all run around throwing a neon yellow Frisbee. I think I should have joined in the fun, but I stuck to the sidelines, a little too shy to participate. I did tell some of them that I'd be back with Chris next week (if he goes…) and this time I would play. I want to test out my healing lungs.
I think the biggest thing I've learned today is to let words slide off your back. I had to tell a little boy in my group, after a couple of other boys said that he was a bad basketball player and that they didn't like him, that it didn't matter what those other boys thought. The only thing that matters is what God thinks. I don't usually think that way in regards to my own life; in fact, for the last few hours, I've been struggling pretty hard with some things that have been said about us and to us (Molly, Joe, and I). If I could ask everyone to pray one thing on my behalf it would be that God will draw near to me while I'm feeling nervous about all that's happening. And, on top of that, anything that you can think of. I remember Anna saying something Sunday morning about God putting a hedge around my mind – so that I wouldn't ruminate over things that were being said to or about me –and that is a prayer that I need to be said continually. Satan is trying to inch his way in over here, and it has been discouraging – but also means that something huge is going to happen. Either way, remember us when you pray.
We're going hiking tomorrow, and I can't wait. Keep us in your prayers, and keep your eyes open for some awesome pictures of our new friends.
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Here at last...

We have finally reached Philadelphia, or as everyone here says "Philly". It was a long trip, taking us 2 ½ days to finally reach the city of brotherly love, and once we finally got here, none of us were really patient enough to wait for the heavy traffic to get to the community center. One of the first things we noticed was that someone had opened a fire hydrant on the corner of 8th and Cayuga. We had to drive right under the spraying water to reach the community center, which we did with a lot of shrieking and laughing – partly because it seemed so absurd, but also because it was kind of fun to use the windshield wipers for a reason other than heavy rain.
I parked our car a little ways down from the Ayuda Community Center, across from the Hunting Park Christian Academy. Molly and Joe wanted to get out and explore, but I was more concerned with getting in touch with Kate Perez, the director of the Ayuda Community Center, and Ryan Kellermeyer, the person we'd be staying with (a new development as of today). I found them talking with Cynthia, one of the employees at Ayuda, and after a bit of a chat, and her enthusiastic promises to show us everything (Philly Cheese Steak, Water Ice (?), and Penns Landing…), we jumped back into the car and headed to Ryan's house, only a few blocks away on 9th Street.
He's got a really nice house here right across from Hunting Park. From the outside, it looks exactly like all the other houses on every block around it, but the inside is nice and cozy, clean, and comfortable. He has me and Molly up in his room, and Joe is down the hall. It'll be interesting to see how this house of 4 guys adapts to an additional 2 girls and 1 guy (I'm not sure how many girls these guys have seen lately as it is…just kidding…kind of).
We headed off to the grocery store, and Ryan beat Cynthia to the punch and bought us all Water Ices. I had Key Lime, which I believe was awesome. Don't ask me to explain what "water ice" is supposed to be. Imagine a snow cone. It's pretty close to the same…and yet, so different. Then we bummed around the grocery store, and I got to know Ryan's roommate Tim. He's a pretty interesting guy, working with an organization in Philadelphia that organizes trips for missions groups. They have internships open, if anyone is interested…
We rounded off the evening with home grilled hamburgers and then karaoke. I have to say that I've never really enjoyed karaoke, but when you do it at 4441 9th St. it's a whole new kind of karaoke. Ryan is a part time DJ, and he'll frequently don the headphones and cordless mic to sing along on "Don't Speak" or "Sweet Home Alabama". And, yes, there is video.
So far, the trip has been kind of fun. We'll see what happens tomorrow. I guess it's kick boxing with the kids…? Whatever. Talk to you soon.

What do you think of this?

I'm so sick of...

Myself. It's probably pretty believable that when it's this hot, I turn into a complete jerk. And I've been feeling irritable for the last few days.
I have a tendency to get annoyed really easily when I'm hot and tired, so I've been complaining my butt off. Those of you that have been the unfortunate listeners know this, so I'd like to apologize. Hopefully by recognizing this terrible habit, I'll give it a rest.
For the record, everything in my life has been spiraling again so it's not completely my fault. I do miss the days when I kept everything in, though.
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New Designs! Whoo Hoo!

These are some new designs I made for Ember Schrag, a local muscian here in Lincoln. The windmill is a t-shirt design, and the other three are sticker designs. I personally like the green sticker (and the t-shirt design). They took me a while, for the record.

Re-Identification

How do you let go of a person you were and become the person you want to be? Why am I even asking a question like that? I have decided, for the hundredth time, to quit smoking. I wanted to quit before I headed off to Philadelphia, but what I'm finding is that quitting isn't so much "quitting" as it is "reidentifying". I have been smoking since I was 16. And as some people already know, I considered it, at the time, the lesser of two evils. There's no point in rehashing that whole process. The thing that bothers me is that I cannot seem to overcome this first step: Just getting rid of my cigarettes. I think that a part of me thinks I will fail, and that I will be miserable without them. The other strange thing about this time is that I actually believe I can quit. Why do I believe that? I'm really asking.
I'm hoping to document my journey through smoking cessation here on this blog (that no one is reading, but who cares), not only for someone else's benefit, but also as a kind of "accountability". It helps that no one is reading this blog, because it will be easier for me to be honest. Tomorrow is my official "quit" date. And I will keep you updated.

The reason I called this post "Re-Identification" is because that is really the process my life is going through right now. First, I had to manipulate my perception of myself as a healthy person into that of a semi-unhealthy person. You can't consider yourself "healthy" when doctors tell you that your Vitamin D is toxically low, that you have something akin to Narcolepsy, and that you are bipolar (and have borderline personality disorder (I took that with a grain of salt)). I will never qualify for health insurance...and I've come to grips with that... Second, I had to change my perception of myself from a student to, well, a worker. I am no longer a student, because I am no longer in school. That, particularly, was difficult. It might have been easier if I had finished a degree, but I didn't - and it has been incredibly hard. Third, I went from completely independent to almost totally dependent. I no longer pay bills or cook my own food. I own almost nothing, and I cannot see a time in the near future when I that trend will reverse itself. So, now, this identity of rebellious, smoking, drinking rock chick is the last one standing. I don't consider myself "rebellious" anymore; I call it "alternative" now (with a smile). But the smoking thing, which used to be a socializing mechanism, has become a way of isolating myself. No one would believe how much I like isolating myself. And that identity has replaced some of my old ones...
I'm not sure how much my life should change. I only know that I can barely handle one thing changing at a time. But cigarettes are expensive, and I'll die someday if I don't quit. I know it, even if I don't really think about it. So, I'm going to quit. Tomorrow. June 1st.

Why Is This So Significant?

What I mean by "this" is change.  Why is change such a big deal?  Why have I never been able to deal with it?

I opened the file called "writersblock", which is a compilation of all of my blog posts from 2002-2006.  I deleted them a couple years ago and put them all on that document, because, let's be honest, it was about time to let go of some of those old ones.  But it's strange, reading those old posts from 2002 and 2003 - six years old, man.  And, I'll just say it, I was definitely a better writer when I was younger - probably because I read more.  Who knows...?

But it's so sad to me.  I don't like thinking about those years, because I can't help wondering who I would be if some of that shit hadn't happened?  There was so much more that went on in Sweden than what I wrote on my blog, and the person I was when I came back was so completely different than the person I was before I went, or really the person I would have been if I hadn't gone.  And that sounds like no big deal, because that's what happens.  But it still makes me feel angry that I did it.  

I'm rambling.  I blame Scrubs.  I just watched the series finale, and it made me sad, like when I watched the series finale of Six Feet Under (fantastic show, by the way).  And probably the way I felt when I watched the last Gilmore Girls episode.  Whatever.  I hate change, and I'm terrified of what's coming next.  I keep looking to Philadelphia as this monumental, life changing thing, and I know I'm going to be disappointed if I see it that way.  But what can I do?  I'm barely holding on here.  Sort of like how I felt the summer before I went to Sweden (I won't pretend that I don't see a pattern).  All I can look forward to is one thing, and nothing past that seems even remotely clear because I know how big of a life changing thing it is.  That's how I feel right now:  like I'm looking at my future and seeing nothing past July.

And I feel like I'm going crazy.

Beautiful

I heard this beautiful song on Bones the other night, and, well, it got me.  

Here are the lyrics:

Maria Taylor - Time Lapse Lifeline

I'm keeping up, keeping up with the time lapse lifeline / And they can run they can run from the font to the last rites / And we can hear we can hear the first beat to the flat line / I'm keeping up, keeping up with the time lapse lifeline / And once it's done

Oh we dream a life / It was just like that, was like that / And just like that, and just like that it's done / Oh we dream a life / It was just like that, was like that / And just like that, and just like that it's done

Back it up, back it up / Stop, fast-forward, rewind / And watch the sun watch the moon taking turns in the same sky /And you were dead as the leaves now you're new like the spring-time / Back it up, back it up / Stop, fast-forward, rewind / And once it's done

Oh we dream a life / It was just like that, was like that / And just like that, and just like that it's done / Oh we dream a life / It was just like that, was like that / And just like that, and just like that it's done

Still we stand with the help of a steady hand / Capture images of boy and man / Till it's done
And 7 years combined is just a flicker of neon sign / Little negative of hopes replayed / Till they're done, oh they're done

Oh we dream a life / It was just like, was like that / And just like that, and just like that it's done
Oh we dream a life / It was just like, was like that / And just like that, and just like that it's done

Time Lapse Lifeline - Maria Taylor

Morning

A couple days ago I volunteered to drive my pastor's wife to the airport in Omaha at 3:30 in the morning.  It's not a long drive, and the round trip usually ends up being somewhere around 2 hours.  But this morning there was an ungodly amount of fog everywhere.  Driving there was worse because it was dark, and there wasn't much traffic.  But as I explained to Karen, I love driving early in the morning - I don't care where I am or what it's like (as long as it's not blizzarding, hailing, or pouring rain), I love driving in the early morning.  I love being awake early in the morning.  

On my way back to Lincoln, it began to get brighter, and something magnificent happened to the fog.  It became the same color as the sky (which, I suppose, isn't really that amazing).  The reason it looked so cool was because I was suddenly surrounded by blue everywhere - in every direction.  It was like driving through the ocean - with slight traffic and some construction.  Seriously.  It was really cool.

I think the most tragic part of my sleeping difficulties is that I am never waking up in the morning.  If I see the sunrise, it's usually because someone has dragged me out of bed or because I haven't gone to sleep.  This morning it was because I hadn't slept.  It wasn't a huge sacrifice to drive Karen to the airport in the middle of the night/early morning.  The real problem was an appointment I spaced at 10 AM, so there was little chance I'd make it if I slept.  So, here I am, blogging (and probably not doing a very good job of it) at 6:30 in the morning.  But, I'm not really complaining, because this is probably the only morning I'll see for a while...

Sleeping is a curse

I can only feel so bad about missing everything. Missing church, though tragic, is not as bad in my mind as missing a test. But I wish anyway that I hadn't missed anything. I hate that sinking feeling that I get when I wake up and the clock tells me that I've been sleeping a lot longer than I should have. And no one can tell me why my alarm can go off for hours and I don't hear it. The longer this goes on, the less I believe anyone cares.

Who would have ever guessed...

that when I walked into the Keyzer male establishment I would be greeted in such a way. First, I was nervous because a guy was there that, when I had last seen him, told me he hated me, because I hadn't returned any of his phone calls. That was during a time when the only people I talked to on the phone were Gunter, Beca, and Ember. But, he was incredibly friendly, and even suggested we "catch up". Finally, the opportunity to apologize, right? Then, Matt, who let me just say was beyond drunk, told me, "Becca, you're a good person. I hope you know that I mean that." If you know my history with Matt, this is probably the last thing I would ever expect him to say to me, but, hey, he totally did. And then there was the cuddling with David (who, I think, was also kind of drunk, but whatever). It was kind of like the old days, before all that other crap.
One thing I know about those two boys, whom I love like brothers (though I'm not really sure what it would be like to have a brother since I don't have any), is that they are both collapsing deep down. I feel like a cliche saying this, but they both want Jesus so badly, and I think they both know it deep down but won't accept it. And that kills me.
They both called me a recluse tonight. I take some satisfaction in that, since it was their fault I kind of hid out in my apartment. I don't mind it now, being alone I mean, but they don't know me like that. The Becca they know is super dependent and outgoing. So I can see how it would be hard for them to fathom a "reclusive" Becca. That's alright with me.
I would love to say that I'm "over" what happened last year - losing them in such a dramatic and let me just say stupid way - but I know that I'm not really. I mean, I don't hold it against them anymore. I really don't. But I don't trust anyone in that family now. I know that's sad, but I think that's fair too. I put so much trust in them (I never knew people like them), only to feel totally betrayed. When I look at those months now, I know that it was completely a blessing in disguise, but it was one of the most difficult trials I have ever faced - I could barely get of bed - and I don't want to suffer like that ever again.
How do you learn to trust people? I've never been very good at it. I think most of the time I chose to trust them on a surface level but never trusted them on that deeper more spiritual end. If I can't learn to trust them or even my own family, how will I ever learn to trust a man enough to marry him? That's not my "goal" in life, but I want that kind of relationship someday, you know? I want that "forever" kind of thing. But I'm not sure that I am the kind of person that gets the "forever". Luckily, Rob Bell points out, God can fill that hole too. Whatever. I felt that those last few hours of my evening were worth documenting. They were super drunk and won't remember what they said to me, and they'll also never know how important it was for me to hear them speaking the truth finally - and find out, on top of that - that I actually still matter to them, and they feel the loss of me. It's always nice to know you're missed, you know? Especially by people who betrayed you.

Songwriter Power Ranger

This is the flier I made for Ember's new deal at the Box Awesome.

More New Designs

Bethany and I worked on some designs tonight.  The top one is a t-shirt design, middle one is a "logo" of sorts, and the bottom one is a business card I designed for Andrea, one of the people I'm living with.  She designs purses, by the way, and they're awesome. Anyway, I'm pretty proud of these.

Daylight

Anyone who knows me may have guessed that it has been...probably close to months since I saw a sunrise.  Today is the first time in a really, really long time, and I'll be honest, it made me feel kind of sad.  As of now, there are no new discoveries regarding my sleeping problems, and my future feels kind of dark.  Not dark like I have no future.  No, I mean dark in regards to the lack of daylight I seem to see.  I remember a month when I was going to Dordt back...four years ago when I saw sunsets and sunrises but nothing inbetween.  That was a difficult time.  I need the sun.

I just spent several hours with Spanky discussing some of the problems associated with our worship team.  The problems are too long to list, so I won't even try.  What is so difficult about all of that mess is that I am no longer a functioning member of the worship team.  I substitute here and there, but I do not consider myself part of the team (my choice, not theirs), so some of this stuff has nothing to do with me.  On the other hand, I still feel a strong link to the team, and I can feel the tension growing and feel completely helpless as far as stopping it.  It isn't my job or my place to tell anyone what to do, but I think I can say, at least, that the team needs to be communicating.  And they aren't.

That seems to be an incredibly huge problem.  No one can communicate effectively with other people (me included, thus the blog).  I see it with the couple I live with; I see it in the worship team; I see it in my friendships; I can even see it in the classroom.  Why did this happen?  What happened to the human ability to communicate with one another? 

I can't help recalling a message I heard (yes, Mars Hill) a couple years ago, that I have listened to a few hundred times since, called "When You Can't Go On".  The speaker was a man named Brad Gray, and he began talking about the pain of suffering through trials and losses, and also about how incapable people are with communicating during difficult circumstances.  Rob Bell also talked about this during one of his Lamentations messages (about two months ago).  The idea is this:  If we haven't learned to deal with our own pain, how can we sympathize with someone else's pain?  Brad Gray mentioned a statistic in his message.  The average person asks two meaningful questions per conversation.  That's how things are.  All of us are holding something in, especially me.  And it's tearing everything up.

Sunrises are supposed to be symbols of new beginnings.  That's what I'm told.  But what I feel even more is that my future, dark or whatever, isn't going to be hopeless.  I still get to see the sunrise every so often.  And those times are worth the wait sometimes.

My best design yet.

The next step is to get this on a t-shirt.  Wouldn't it look awesome?

Starla Dear Graphic

This is one of a few designs I made when I was doing a lot of SD stuff awhile back.

My future decided...

How nice would it be if I could plan a life for myself?  I crave that.  It might sound silly, but I really wish that I could look at my future and say, "This is what I am going to do when I'm 25, 30, 50, 100." I realize that the day I decided to let Jesus be in charge I gave up my rights to planning my life.  At the time, I was glad to hand over that responsibility.  If I hadn't, I'm sure I wouldn't have made it this far.  Still...it is nice to have a plan, especially when you have thousands of dollars worth of debt under your belt and no prospects for a job paying more than $10 per hour. 

I'm leading a small group at my church, and right now we're working our way through a bible study I did with my cousin last year, To Walk and Not Grow Weary.  I found it to be a really, really good study for people going through really difficult circumstances.  Since I've started the group, it has grown to about 13 people.  We don't fit in the center room anymore (and I've told Jeff, but he just grins and says that I have to deal with it, so I end up standing off in a corner talking over everyone's heads).  What is really unique about my group is that I am one of the youngest people there, and I'm leading it.  That in itself has been important to me.  The people in my group have offered me a lot of unique experience.  The reason I mention them is because this last Sunday we were talking about Solomon and Ecclesiastes, "Life is meaningless."  Someone said, "I don't think my life had any meaning before Christ."  And that's my whole point.

Later that night, I was listening to John Mayer as I tried to fall asleep, and one of his songs New Deep has the lyrics, "Ever since I tried, trying not to find every little meaning in my life, it's been fine, I've been cool with my new golden rule."  And I realized that my life has no meaning without Jesus.  Why should I care about anyone else?  I can't find a reason to be the kind of person I dream of becoming if Jesus wasn't fueling some kind of fire in me.  

All of this coupled with a few Hillsong United songs, My Future Decided and All I Need Is You in particular, I feel like I could do just about anything.

I'm terrified that all of the good things that have happened with Philadelphia are going to just disappear.  Really, really terrified.  I mean, every time something cool has happened in the last few years, I feel like it has just been crushed by life.  I've kind of come to grips with the fact that, since I can be kind of persistent, that is God's only way of getting my attention.  Still...

My Future Decided - Hillsong United

All I Need Is You - Hillsong United

What an amazing song

All I Need Is You - Hillsong United

Left my fear by the side of the road / Hear You speak / Won't let go / Fall to my knees as I lift my hands to pray / Got every reason to be here again / Father's love that draws me in / And all my eyes wanna see is a glimpse of You

All I need is You / All I need is You Lord / Is You Lord

One more day and it's not the same / Your Spirit calls my heart to sing / Drawn to the voice of my Saviour once again / Where would my soul be without Your Son / Gave His life to save the earth / Rest in the thought that You're watching over me

All I need is You / All I need is You Lord / Is You Lord

You hold the universe / You hold everyone on earth / You hold the universe

* I've listened to a lot of their songs before, because I have the With Hearts As One I & II albums, but I was kind of selective. Tonight I heard this one, and it really got to me. Thought I would share that.

The Power of the Lament

The power of the lament is to speak those words that your culture, your family system, your environment would naturally suppress, repress, and shove to the edges... We must reclaim how to grieve, the power of the lament, because if we don't, whatever that pain is, it will go somewhere and it will express itself somehow… Your ability to listen to the pain of another and to be able to sit with the incoherent ramblings of another is directly proportional to how thoroughly you have faced your own pain… Your ability to join them in that and to simply listen…is directly proportional to how well you have dealt with your own pain… Until we as a country listen to some of the most painful elements of the founding of our country…until we face that pain and what our father’s father’s mother’s mother’s father’s father’s were a part of, no wonder we have a hard time listening to what I would argue is just a modern lament with really, really loud bass.
- Rob Bell, Learning to Lament in a Culture of Denial March 1, 2009

(To obtain this particular message, visit Mars Hill's website and go to teachings)

So, what does this mean for someone like me? I lived in "lament" for years, and everyone kept telling me that I needed to learn to let it go. But, in those years of recovery and grief, I felt that I had a clearer idea of what it means to cling to Jesus. Now, as I find myself becoming unhealthily reclusive, I've become a pro at repressing my own pain, because even in the midst of "the lament" I never got through the grief; instead I seemed to dwell in it. There has to be a resolution to lamenting the past and the trauma. So why have I never reached it?

For the record...

I've had this blog for...7 years. And I took off all the old super depressing posts from high school. So, it looks like I don't blog ever, but I used to all the time. That was all pre-myspace and pre-facebook. Maybe I should put the old blogs up, though, so people can get to know me. Eh. Whatever.

My Lament

There's a Motion City Soundtrack song called "Even If It Kills Me", and it has been my anthem for about a month. "I'm not saying that I'm giving up, I'm just trying not to think as much as I used to, cause 'never' is a lonely little messed up word. Maybe I'll get it right someday. For the first time in a long time, I can say that I want to try. I feel helpless for the most part, but I'm ready to open my eyes. And the sad truth of the matter is I'll never get over it but I'm going to try to get better and overcome each moment in my own way. I sure want to get back on track, and I'll do whatever it takes even if it kills me."
Since the moment I clicked on that button that says "Drop" on enRoll, and watched my classes just melt away, I have felt uncomfortably free. The only things that weigh me down are student loans. But that's it. Student loans to a college drop out are like getting kicked while you're down. Just thinking about how much I have in debt makes me feel like I'm being crushed. I've already decided not to go back next semester, because I don't care how many pills they give me, I don't believe they're going to fix the fact that I'm a terrible student (I love school, but I really am a less than ideal college student).
What has been so awful, though, is this jarring realization that tends to interrupt my "planning" moments. I'll be thinking about something, then realize I can't do that thing because I can't afford it, or I'll be thinking about a job that I would love, and then I realize, "They won't hire me...I don't have a degree." Then add in the whole narcolepsy thing, and I'm basically looking at being a comments operator for the rest of my life.
Here is where the hope is, because there has always been hope in that tiny fraction of my heart that Jesus lives in. The life I've dreamed of having, the one where I have nothing and live everywhere, is going to happen.
I told Ben that I wanted to become an apostle. His response, of course, was that I can't be an apostle because I'm a woman, followed by his funny snicker. My response, "Screw that. I love Jesus." But if I didn't tell you, grab you and shake you with my excitement, I am doing it. I'm leaving (temporarily). This is the beginning of my life, and the life I'm starting looks completely awesome. Brilliant, really.
So, you may be reading this thinking, "You're young. You have plenty of time to do school and all of that stuff." And you're right. I forget how "young" I actually am, and I think part of that is because the last...oh, I don't know...7 years have been really difficult. They have aged me in so many ways that sometimes I can't help thinking that reaching 30 will really be an accomplishment, and if I do live to be 30, then I'm sure I'll be nuts. Whatever. We'll see, I guess.
I'm going to start giving my stuff away (except the computer and the PS2...and maybe some of my books). Take it. That's my new anthem.

Throwing My Life Away

I don't remember where I heard someone say that they were throwing their lives away to follow Jesus.  Maybe it was a Misty Edwards song...probably.  Whatever.  Today has been one of those days when I re-evaluated my priorities.  

I have to blame a stranger in Pennsylvania (you don't get to say stuff like that EVER).  And I'm blaming him because he said, "Hey, you should just move here."  Contextually, that makes a ton more sense, but I'm not going to get into it.  What it made me do, though, was think, "What really matters to me?"  This is what I've discovered: Nothing is more important to me than doing something I feel God is calling me to do.  Now, don't misunderstand me.  I realize that my comment sounds kind of like I'm SUPER connected to God's will or something, but that's not what I mean.  What I mean is that I'm miserable when I'm outside of God's will, and so, not out of fear but respect, I don't want to stray too far from that.  I want to do what he wants, because I want to have a full life.  Whatever that means.

I think I'm going to Pennsylvania - Philadelphia to be more precise.  And I was so excited I could barely keep it in.  Molly thought I was nuts when I called her - since I didn't want to tell her over the phone.  But like I told her, everything has been so BAD for the last few months that finally something great is happening - something that gives my life a direction, even if it's only for a couple of months.

Jeff H. is opposed to me moving away - he wants me to stay and work at the NL, but dude...Philadelphia.

It all came together so easily.  There's got to be a reason behind it.