.My Black Hat.

2011-11-19T16:52:00.000-08:00

I have this oddness...I'm deathly scared of cheesy romantic cliche anything. I just steer clear of it altogether...a little too much. More like alot too much. Which results in in me failing at ever saying nice things about people because I'm far too afraid that it's going to sound lame and just cliche. 

Which is why I haven't blogged about Cody. (See...I'm already weirding myself out.) But per request of a best friend who hasn't met him yet, it's about time. 

The awkward thing right now is that he's sitting right across from me. We're in this coffee shop...the one I always blog at because it's got yellow walls...and I'm writing and reading, and he's drawing. He's pretty darn talented that way. Like...art and music mostly. He plays bass. It's kinda hot. And ukelele. Once he even learned a cheesy love song and sang it to me. It made me laugh and he was embarrassed but I liked it alot. 

He does alot of things like that. Things that girls always kind of dream of their man doing for them but actually never expect to find a guy that will. He's written me poems. Sung songs for me. Taken my little sisters for ice cream. Sent me letters by post. Left coffee on my doorstep in the morning. And I have always had at least one vase of flowers in my room. It's a rule for me to tell him before they die so he can buy me more before I toss um. 

I can't ever keep a secret from him. Not cuz I'm a good enough person not to try, but because he knows something's wrong without even looking at me. 

He's probly...ya...even when I think about all the humble people I know...he's probly the most humble. I've seen it alot of times. And it really impresses me. Because I'm not. 

He wants to go to seminary and do foreign missions and be a pastor and adopt kids. And he's gonna be really good at it. Like...really good. He's got strong convictions, but he's humble enough to listen to someone else's and change what he believes if he's wrong. And he loves people and always wishes he had more time to invest in everyone. And he is in love with Jesus and the gospel and always comes back to them in the end. 

Anyways...he's pretty much dumping amazingness all over the place...and I'm stinking lucky to be his girlfriend. And now you all know...which is good...cuz you should. But I'm embarrassing myself out and I think he wants to go now. Plus I'm hungry.

2011-11-07T22:39:00.000-08:00

My heart really used to stop whenever I got a new picture of her. It's almost two years later and it still does. I gave up going through facebook albums or hoping for anybody to post old pictures of her. But I got one more today...

2011-09-16T11:36:00.000-07:00

I adjusted the stool three times, and sat back down, determined to write. I didn't know what. Maybe something about the ratio of cars to bicycles rolling by the window. The quality of foam on my long gone chai. The color of the bright teal wall. The two old men playing backgammon on an iphone. The handlelessness of my cup. The difficulties in deciding which trash or recycle bin your cup goes into. Whether it will rain or not...

I  still don't know what to write about. I notice things, but don't ask  questions. I take them how they are and don't ask why or how or want to  change it. It makes me a boring writer. Or maybe...it's not what I write  that's boring. I know better than to write boring things. Which turns  me from a boring writer to an infrequent writer. Because my unboring  thoughts are few and far between.  

2011-09-05T10:02:00.000-07:00

Meet: Matilda. She is the predecessor to the late Lucinda. Lucinda's beautiful, but rather short life was tragically cut short for unknown reasons. Matilda, however, is doing quite spiffing.

2011-09-03T14:43:00.000-07:00

Today... I'm wearing cut-off jean shorts.

My favorite scarves are hanging on the wall and I'm realizing that I really missed them during the summer. Yay for fall!

Cody took me shopping for under water plants for my beta fish's tank. Her name is Lucinda.

I'm confused because my Enter button works only half the time.

I made dinner to take to work. I'm so prepared. It's amazing.

There was this super ugly amazing vintage clock/radio at Value Village last night. It's making me happy even though it says it's 10:50. Which it's not.

And that's all. Pretty much the story of my life right now...besides all the other stuff I guess.

Like...besides being three weeks away from starting school...and besides finding out that I get full financial aid...and besides my dad getting a job...and besides moving...and besides a best friend getting married...and besides working an amazing new job...and besides Cody because he's just always that amazing...and besides God doing all this stuff for me and loving me always.........ya. That's about all. Not quite as exciting as ugly second hand clocks...but you know...

2011-09-01T15:07:00.000-07:00

Hey guess what...

I moved. So now I've got internet. So maybe I'll blog more. 

But don't get too excited. No promises. 

Oh. And...I'm moving into the above little sister's room... I'm not sure whether that's frightening or exciting. I'll find out soon enough I spose.

2011-07-29T14:40:00.000-07:00

C. S. Lewis pretty much talks about everything I ever thought about. There's nothing like having half a thought that I don't know where it came from or if it's true...and then finding it totally explained in a Lewis book. It makes me feel smart. Or at least keeps me from feeling like a total nutcase for having weird philosophical ideas. 

But there's always this part of me that thinks...well...this weird thought has been thought by others. Smart others like Lewis. And in my experience of life it makes a whole lotta sense and seems pretty darn reasonable and true. But where would this idea be in the Bible? Or is it? And then I go...hmmm. And move on with life. 

Anyways. I was reading in Lewis' memoirs from after his wife died, (A Grief Observed) and came to this part:

"...suppose you are up against a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless...

...What do people mean when they say, 'I am not afraid of God because I know He is good'? Have they never been to a dentist?"

I got the part about God finishing what He starts in you. But the last part about being afraid because God is good, was new. New in that I'd not heard it said like that before. But I totally knew the feeling. The terror that whatever God is doing in me isn't done and that bad hard unknown things could keep happening until He's satisfied with where my heart is. It's majorly scary. 

It all made sense when I read that. I knew that God finishes what he starts. And that it might not be super pleasant. And that facing more unpleasant things is frightening. But...I mean...this is just me and Lewis brainstorming here. We could be wrong or just full of bologna. 

Then the other day I was reading Job. Mostly because Job had a hard life too and it's kind of nice to know that you're not the only one. And I found a spot at the end of chapter 23 where Job says this: 

 "But he knows the way that I take;
 when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold.
  My foot has held fast to his steps;
 I have kept his way and have not turned aside.
  I have not departed from the commandment of his lips;
 I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my portion of food.
  But he is unchangeable, and who can turn him back?
 What he desires, that he does.
  For he will complete what he appoints for me,
 and many such things are in his mind.
  Therefore I am terrified at his presence;
 when I consider, I am in dread of him.
  God has made my heart faint;
 the Almighty has terrified me;
  yet I am not silenced because of the darkness,
 nor because thick darkness covers my face."

See how it's the same ideas? 

 You've got the part about God being good and using ick to turn you into something beautiful. And the part about how He finishes what He starts. He doesn't give up, He's immovable in His purpose for you. 

But Job doesn't respond all like, "and so, I'm not afraid because God's good and knows what's best for me." Instead he's terrified. 

I sort of dropped dead. Job was terrified of God's goodness too. It's not just me and Lewis. 

This is a true normal thing...to be afraid of God's goodness. It doesn't mean I stop trusting Him or loving Him or something just because I'm afraid of what He will do. I can still know that His will is best and that in the end it will be good. But that doesn't mean I can't be scared of the process. 

Just like I know that if I don't get that cavity filled, it's gonna cause alot of pain and my mouth could eventually become infected and nasty. So I go to the dentist, knowing that he will fix it and change it and make it good in the end. But I'm still scared of the process. Of the drill and the shots and all the discomfort that comes with getting a filling. 

Actually, if I'm not scared of the process then I'm just naive and haven't really considered what it takes to allow Christ to come in and change you. When I give Him my heart I have to give it all to Him to do whatever He wants with it. If I'm not prepared to endure a lot of pain in order to become what He wants, I really haven't considered the cost of being His.

If you are His...you should be scared. Cuz He loves you more than you can ever imagine. And there is no way that His love will allow you to dwadle your way through life just by yourself and never be challenged or changed. He knows that the greatest good for you is to become like Him. He will take you and rip you and your life apart for as long or as often as it takes until He is satisfied with what He has made you. It's a scary life being His. But Job knew...when He's finished with us...we will come out like gold.

2011-07-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

I'm so done. So done.

I thought I'd gotten whatever it was He wanted me to learn.

I mean - He's brought me so far and taught me so much.

Isn't it enough? I'm sure there's something more to learn...but I can't keep up with this.

How bout a break? Please?

There's plenty more time in my life to teach me whatever it is, God!

It has to stop sometime right?

I'm not so much worried. There's ways to make it, ways to find money, ways to save money. My family won't die of starvation.

I'm just tired. I've been tired before. But this-I can't do it anymore. We've been doing it for years. It won't stop. It just gets worse. One thing leads to another thing and it never lets up.

Sometimes I think...'well at least no one's dying.' But that's happened too. Twice for me.

I just sit there...not quite crying...and yell at Him in my head. 'Why? Why? Aren't you done yet? I can't. I'm done. I can't. I can't. No. I can't.'

I don't even know what I can't. I just can't.

It's just simply not a possibility anymore.

I'm tired. I'm done.

Just done. Done not being able to cry. Done being the cheerful person when my insides are dying. Done smiling and shrugging when people comment on my latest hard. Done trying to explain and either getting lectured or misunderstood or given a blank look. If you haven't been betrayed and broken you just can't know. Done putting my heart into trying to plan and having it shattered. Done with this oldest sister syndrome that has to fix it for them or die. Done with this war of choosing to find joy somewhere and turn it into happiness. Done feeling like the only person left heartless.

I really don't want to think happy thoughts right now. They are trying to come and I push them out.

I don't want to believe that God is good. I want to hurt. And hide. If anyone finds me I will have to smile and say something positive and believing and face God's goodness. And then smile and love and keep walking. And I don't want too.

I'll fall. I'll get stuck. I'll get stolen and hurt and abandoned and left bleeding with no heart all over again. And then I'll have to get up and keep walking again. And loving and smiling and believing.

I can't. I've been doing it over and over again and I don't want to get up this time.

I've been asking and asking Him to be done. I've been asking so long it's become mechanical. I could't cry. I couldn't hurt. I just asked.

Then he lost his job. And my family doesn't have income. Or a daddy. And he's off in rehab again. And I don't think I get to go to school. And they are all so messed up.

And it's caught up to me. And there's nothing I can do. I can usually think it out and figure it out and be ok. I can't. I'm done. I can't figure it out this time. I can't figure it out for myself so I can't figure it out for them either. I can't see the good in this one. I don't understand.

One too many God, one too many. I would have thought that losing my dad and grandpa would have been enough.

And then You come in and remind me again that You love me and that You're good and that it'll be ok and that You have a plan. You've reminded me twenty thousand times...please can you prove it? Please?

But I have to wait. I have no choice.

"...suppose you are up against a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless...

...What do people mean when they say, 'I am not afraid of God because I know He is good'? Have they never been to a dentist?"

(A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis)

...
How long must I pray, must I pray to you?
How long must I wait, must I wait for you?
How long til I see your face, see you shining through?
I'm on my knees, begging you to notice me.
I'm on my knees, Father will you turn to me?

One tear in the dropping rain.
One voice in a sea of pain
Could the maker of the stars
Hear the sound of my breaking heart?
One life: that's all I am.
Right now I can barely stand.
If you're everything you say you are
Could you come close and hold my heart?

I've been so afraid, afraid to close my eyes.
So much can slip away before I say goodbye.
But if there's no other way I'm done asking why.
Cuz I'm on y knees, begging you to turn to me.
I'm on my knees, Father will you run to me?

One tear in the dropping rain.
One voice in a sea of pain
Could the maker of the stars
Hear the sound of my breaking heart?
One life: that's all I am.
Right now I can barely stand.
If you're everything you say you are
Could you come close and hold my heart?

So many questions without answers.
Your promises remain.
I can't see, but I'll take my chances
To hear you call my name.
To hear you call my name.

One tear in the dropping rain.
One voice in a sea of pain
Could the maker of the stars
Hear the sound of my breaking heart?
One life: that's all I am.
Right now I can barely stand.
If you're everything you say you are
Could you come close and hold my heart?

(Hold My Heart, Tenth Avenue North)

2011-06-14T13:19:00.000-07:00

I just can't handle it anymore. I'm in love with this coffee shop. It's like all yellow and orange and they always latte art my foam all up in the mug. And cool people always come in here. And the happy music. And I always get this awesome creative thing happening in me that doesn't normally happen at other places. I just can't let it take over because homework is sort of more important...however attractive that sharpie and blank lined paper are to my random thoughts. 

My hair is dumb today. Don't tell Cody I said that...he'll give me that 'what's-your-issue-you're gorgeous' look and tell me I'm wrong. 

School is almost over. I'm supposed to be taking this test for an online HIV healthcare provider class thingy. But I'm in this coffee shop for the third time this week and it's becoming impossible to squish the need to blabber randomness...this place makes me do that.

We went on a hike the other day. Cody and me and our friends Rudy and Janel. We saw a bear and ate marmalade sandwiches and then a stick stabbed me. Adventures aren't complete without blood.

See the bear? It's there...really.

I'm going to stop now and repost my craigslist ads and look for a job and do that test.

Cheerio. (We really need to start genuinely saying charming stuff like that in America.)

He picked me daisies...go ahead...be jealous.

2011-05-09T14:14:00.000-07:00

I just realized that every time I come to this coffee shop...I blog. Apparently orange and yellow walls and coffee is good for whichever piece of my brain is the piece that writes. 

This is a good day. Partly because I bought conditioner...which I was out of. Partly because I'm wearing three different colors for no reason except I felt like it and because my hair is having a good attitude. And partly because a guy walked by a few minutes ago with multi-colored clown type pants on. It must be a good day for him too. Also I was making a list with one of those fine-tipped Sharpies. Fine-tipped Sharpies always inspire me to good handwriting and excellent list-making. (So do sharp pencils.)

Oh...and also I get to see Nicole tonight. You'd think since she's my roommate and one of my bests I would actually see her all the time. But not. I come home at night...she's in bed. She gets up in the morning...I'm in bed. I will be home almost all day, and then leave for something in the evening. She'll stop by home after I leave to pick something up. So pretty much we only see each other for passing moments as we sleep. Which in my book, doesn't really count.

Yesterday I had a violin lesson from Cody's sister, Carissa. She's an expert teacher. I can play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It sounds horrible, but considering I can only play piano...I was pretty proud of myself. I could probly play better if I didn't laugh at myself the entire time. It makes the violin screech when you laugh. 

Tomorrow is Mia's birthday. She's gonna be nine. I'm pretty sure I was nine for like five years. Maybe she'll stay nine for five years too. That would be nice. I don't think growing up should be allowed.  

Alissa had a photography class so these are from a day we went to parks and took pictures together...

2011-05-05T17:39:00.000-07:00

I feel like life for the last two or threeish years hasn't given me time to catch my breath. You know...like something happens and life turns slowly back into a new normal, and you breath in this great big breath thinking you've got it covered now... then blam! You don't have time to breath out because somethin else came along and smacked you across the face.

Then you kind of gasp and tears come cuz it hurts. But you've done this before so you recover quick and shake the fuzziness out of your head as best you can and focus on the next thing. Like reading the next chapter in homework. Or watching a movie with your little sister. Or doing yard work for your grandma. And you look at your wrist where you wrote "belonging to God" in blue pen ink. And you smile and head out to face the next thing because life is great anyways...how can it not be if you belong to God?

And by the way, my little sisters are all becoming old. Ania's 6, Alissa's 15 today, and Mia's turning 9. Not ok. Not ok at all actually.

Look at her...she's still my baby sister except not...

2011-05-05T17:16:00.000-07:00

Yep...I know...I know. I didn't blog yesterday. Failure extraordinaire. But I had good reason...my mind was full of this: 

Super cool. So much fun memorizing all that on the day of a test. You have no idea...

I was also definitely NOT thinking about this:

...or this:

...or all this:

Yep I was there. And I knew all those people. And loved them a whole stinking lot. That's Ridge Burns...one of our lecturers at Capernwray. He was the only American lecturer we had...and he wears Vans shoes. Only ever red Vans. He even has a deal with the company and orders a dozen at a time.

(And this counts for yesterday's post...by the Way...have to keep these things straight.)

2011-05-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

You have to understand...I will do anything. ANYTHING. to avoid being tickled. It gives any enemies, siblings, friends, peoples-in-general, extreme and complete power. I will become your humble submissive slave in half a second if I'm threatened.

And...it didn't take Cody long to figure that out. Darn.

So yesterday, when he offered me an entire week tickle-free if I did something for him, I took the deal. No questions asked. The requirement...blog. Everyday this week. The issue is I generally only blog when monumental thoughts enter my miniature brain and happen to morph into explainable ideas which I then find time to write in words that someone other than my dear mother will understand. It's a long and complicated process...and generally doesn't happen every day. Tough life.

So...with that, I present you with Tuesday's amazing brain light bulb: uuum. hm. ok. well. It's sunny...and yesterday was rainy. Which probly means that a cow with antlers will land in a banana space ship and take over the world using optical illusions and peanut butter...

Just kidding. No need to avoid peanut butter today.

Actually...I was kind of thinking about my little sister. The biggest little one. Alissa. She's six years younger than me and alot different...than me.

And growing up I honestly didn't really like her that much. Partly cuz she was very much the annoying little sister. And partly because I was the too-mature-for-all-that-immaturity big sister.

But lately...I don't really know what happened. Every time I hang out with her I turn into this spastic weirdo. I think she has powers that make people that come in contact with her act 15 years younger than they are. ...which would explain my recent relapses into six year old behavior.

It's frightening, really, the random things that come out of my mouth and the contortions my face can perform under her spell. And then she'll laugh and point at me as if I'm a moron and need to get control of myself. Which I probably am and probably do. But it's way easier to blame it on her.

Pretty much she's become a best friend. I think, because life has thrown alot of nasty at us lately and we've both had to go through it, it's made a friendship that wasn't ever really there before.

And I'm glad. Because she's amazing. Yep...she casts her spell of immaturity over people, but she's deeper than that. I know she loves people...alot. She's a been a brick and babysat a whole stinking lot in the last year. (And I know from experience that babysitting your own little sisters is not exactly cake.) And she's still sane; except for the part of her that never was.

So...thanks Mr. NastyLife for giving me a sister...even though you took a whole lot of other stuff away. I sort of really appreciate that.

2011-05-02T15:23:00.000-07:00

I drank my coffee. And did a freaking lot of math. Then i went on facebook and saw a picture of a guy with boots and a stick herding his cows down a lane in the middle of a field. I suddenly need to get chased by thirty cows in an English field again.

Ania is turning six today. I think it should be against the rules for baby sisters to turn six.

There's a VW van out there in the rain. VW vans are always charming. But this one is definitely the most uncharmingest one out there.

What's weird is that at Ania's little birthday party tonight Papa-Do won't be there. It'll be weird to not go ask him if he wants ice cream with his cake. It's weird to see his truck in Gramma's garage and think that it doesn't mean he's home.

It's frustrating not to get to say good-bye. And it's frustrating not to have anything to process. I have this feeling that there's something I need to think about and figure out and get straight in my little mind and then it'll all be good again. But not really. He had a heart attack and didn't make it and that's that.

It's one of those things that you really don't get, but at the end of the day you come to the conclusion that God's still a whole lot bigger than the yuck of life.

So life is happy anyways, and the good hings are more than the nasties and I smile and eat ice cream and roll the car windows down and vaccumn my house.

2011-03-23T14:06:00.000-07:00

How does this work...I really am not getting it.

I don't get the falling in love with a little girl halfwayaround the world that i've never even met part.

I don't get the part where the most beautiful precious four year old in China can be so sick.

I don't understand how it was better for her to die.

And I mostly can't figure out how it still hurts me.

It's been almost 2 years since i met her.

I looked at pictures. I sent her clothes and toys. I held her on my lap and let her play with my camera. I couldn't speak her language. I prayed my heart out for her. And wanted more than anything to hear her breath normal and walk easily. I wanted her to know the love of a family...and what it's like to run. I wanted her for mine forever.

I thought I would kind of get over it. But I'm not...and every day I see the striped sweater I
never got to send her for Christmas. And her face is still in my phone.

I want to go back and double check that she's really not there...eating cucumbers and watermelon outside...watching the other kids play around her...yelling at them once in a while when they take her toy...then unsuccessfully trying to catch her breath. And then she'll look and see me and put her arms up to be held like she did before.

But...no...that's not the plan.

The plan was for her to die. Now she knows love. Now she can run and dance and breath. Her skin isn't purple anymore. She's perfect. And when she puts her arms up to be held...Jesus will be there. And she'll be His...forever.

2011-03-08T12:18:00.000-08:00

Yesterday it was sunny and I found out I actually had most of the day off work. (*happy dance in the kitchen*) So I put on two sweaters and a hat and a coat and a scarf. And road my creaky ancient bike down to the beach and sat there eating lunch and reading C.S. Lewis. It made me feel pretty charming. 

2011-03-07T09:14:00.000-08:00

I know it's long...but it's my favorite. And since I've read it about ten times you can take the time to read it just once right?

It's chapter fourteen from The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. The book is a collection of letters from a 'senior' devil to his nephew, a 'junior' devil. So the 'Enemy' is God, and the 'patient' is Wormwood's current project--or human whom he is trying to damn.

My Dear Wormwood,

The most alarming thing in your last account of the patient is that he is making none of those confident resolutions which marked his original conversion. No more lavish promises of perpetual virtue, I gather; not even the expectation of an endowment of ‘grace’ for life, but only a hope for the daily and hourly pittance to meet the daily and hourly temptation! This is very bad.

I see only one thing to do at the moment. Your patient has become humble; have you drawn his attention to the fact? All virtues are less formidable to us once the man is aware that he has them, but this is specially true of humility. Catch him at the moment when he is really poor in spirit and smuggle into his mind the gratifying reflection, ‘By jove! I’m being humble’, and almost immediately pride—pride at his own humility—will appear. If he awakes to the danger and tries to smother this new form of pride, make him proud of his attempt—and so on, through as many stages as you please. But don’t try this too long, for fear you awake his sense of humour and proportion, in which case he will merely laugh at you and go to bed. 

But there are other profitable ways of fixing his attention on the virtue of Humility. By this virtue, as by all the others, our Enemy wants to turn the man’s attention away from self to Him, and to the man’s neighbors. All the abjection and self-hatred are designed, in the long run, solely for this end; unless they attain this end they do us little harm; and they may even do us good if they keep the man concerned with himself, and above all, if self-contempt can be made the  starting-point for contempt of other selves, and thus for gloom, cynicism, and cruelty. 

You must therefore conceal from the patient the true end of Humility. Let him think of it not as self0forgetfulness but as a certain kind of opinion (namely, a low opinion) of his own talents and character. Some talents, I gather, he really has. Fix in his mind the idea that humility consists in trying to believe those talents to be less valuable than he believes them to be. No doubt they are in fact less valuable than he believes, but that is not the point. The great thing is to make him value an opinion for some quality other than truth, thus introducing an element of dishonesty and make-believe into the heart of what otherwise threatens to become a virtue. By this method thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means pretty women trying to believe they are ugly and clever men trying to believe they are fools. And since what they are trying to believe may, in some cases, be manifest nonsense, they cannot succeed in believing it and we have the chance of keeping their minds endlessly revolving on themselves in an effort to achieve the impossible. To anticipate the Enemy’s strategy, we must consider His aims. The Enemy wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. The Enemy wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbor’s talents—or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognize all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things. He wants to kill their animal self-love as soon as possible; but it is His long-term policy, I fear, to restore to them a new kind of self0love—acharity and gratitude for all selves, including their own; when they have really learned to love their neighbors as themselves, they will be allowed to love themselves as their neighbors. For we must never forget what is the most repellent and inexplicable trait in our Enemy; He really loves the hairless bipeds He has created and always gives back to them with His right hand what He has taken away with His left. 

His whole effort, therefore, will be to get the man’s mind off the subject of his own value altogether. He would rather the man thought himself a great architect or a great poet and then forgot about it, than that he should spend much time and pains trying to think himself a bad one. Your efforts to instill either vainglory or false modesty into the patient will therefore be met from the Enemy’s side with the obvious reminder that a man is not usually called upon to have an opinion of his own talents at all, since he can very well go on improving them to the best of his ability without deciding on his own precise niche in the temple of Fame. You must try to exclude this reminder from the patient’s consciousness at all costs. The Enemy will also try to render real in the patient’s mind a doctrine which they all profess but find it difficult to bring home to their feelings—the doctrine that they did not create themselves, that their talents were given them, and that they might as well be proud of the colour of their hair. But always and by all methods the Enemy’s aim will be to get the patient’s mind off such questions, and yours will be to fix it on them. Even of his sins the Enemy does not want him to think too much: once they are repented, the sooner the man turns his attention outward, the better the Enemy is pleased.

Your affectionate uncle,

SCREWTAPE

2011-03-01T20:24:00.000-08:00

How cute is this? I missed his birthday though. I mean...I though of him...but I didn't send him anything. Fail. But I keep Mei Mei's last unsent Christmas present by my bed. I thought I would get over it and fall in love with another China baby. But I haven't. Yet.

2011-02-16T13:30:00.000-08:00

To write. Without bounds. *sigh* This feels good. To put whatever I feel like on paper.

There's a friend talking with a guy about Haiti and orphans a couple tables over. He'll probably save the world some day. There's a guy I see everywhere sitting two tables a across. I know some of his story but he doesn't know me. Two girls talk...in an unannoying way, thankfully. Cuz girls can be so annoying. A girl with cute bangs and a chunky blue eyed baby talks to her date. I hope he goes for her. She seems sweet and with a baby she'll probably have a harder time finding a man. And who wouldn't want to be this baby's daddy? There's a bookshelf with old books and a yellow daisy on it. A barista works in the other room.

My chai is gone. It was good. Obviously.

Me. I'm here too. I'm trying to write a story without getting distracted by facebook and e-mail and blogs and such. It's hard. Especially because I'm stuck with the story. It's a good story. With a good end. And I'm at the end but I can't figure out how to give it the bang impact that I want it to have. It kind of ends with a bla instead of a kaboom. I feel like I've worked this thing to death.

And I'm hungry. Should I go buy something? I think I should. Maybe an americano too. That's kind of alot of money to spend on writing a story that's not getting written.

I had an interview today. With a coffee stand. They're not open
yet. All the better. There won't be a snippy group of girls that won't accept me into their elite coffee makers clique. I'm sick of coming into a new job only to find that. And the boss wants to hire happy people. It sounds weird. But I get it. It's all the way out far in the county, but if they offer I'll take it. *fingers crossed*

There's weird pictures on the wall in here. They have eyeballs and mouths and teeth but no real shape at all. It's kind of creepy.

The girl across from me is making a great laughing face. It's cute. I kind of wish she was my friend.

Now I'm going to write this story. I can do this. Right? Right.

Um.....ya. I'm not convinced.

But I have to try. It was due on the second. Oops.

2011-02-10T10:14:00.000-08:00

This week I had a three year old laugh at me when I told her that God is my friend. Right. She laughed.

Her name's Margaret, she's three, and I'm her nanny. We color with the fairy dog, build forts, run from monsters, discuss what it means to be a big girl, have chicken parties, pretend to be mermaids, eat noodles, and do pretty much everything else together. The one thing we haven't talked about is God. I don't know if her parents would be very happy with me if I tried to indoctrinate the child. But I did bring it up the other day on our way home from preschool.

We were commenting on the wind and rain. And I asked her if she thought someone made it windy and rainy or if it just did that by itself.

"I think...someone makes it that way."

"Well whoever makes it this windy must be pretty big because this is a pretty big wind."

"It's probly blowing the wind really strongly with big breaths" (Here we have a demonstration on how to make wind by blowing.)

"Do you think God makes it windy and rainy?"

"What?"

"God. Do you think God does it?"

"What did you say? Did you say God?"

"Ya."

"How do you know Him?" (She sounded completely unbelieving that I could know God.)

"Uh...He's kind of like my friend."

*giggles* "God's not your friend!"

"Ya He is! He's like my friend and my daddy..." (How do you explain it in short to a three year old?)

"Well He lives way up in the sky."

"Ya but he also lives in my heart."

"I have a song about that...."

And here she started singing some song about family being in your heart or something.

So ya. I got laughed at by a three year old for saying that God is my friend. And she probably won't ever remember that conversation. But I will...And maybe somehow it'll put something in her heart that will bring her to Jesus later.

Here I was going to post a cell phone picture of Margaret and I, but my phone has lost itself.

So instead you get this extremely attractive picture of Me, Allie, and Wiebke on a late night in the castle. Actually...I'm leaving Starbucks in like two minutes to go to Canada to visit Allie. Oh happy days!

2011-02-02T18:43:00.000-08:00

And so what do you write when you need to write something, but nothing in particular comes to mind. But it's not because you're brain or heart is empty. Just the opposite.

So...life goes on. I write some. I work some. I babysit some. I drive around. And sing to the radio. I hug my little sisters and research dental assisting. I wonder if I have enough money for that road trip and a quarter of school. Probly not. But we'll see if I can make it happen. I talk to friends. There would be no surviving the world without them. I knit sometimes. I wear my TOMS even though they're pretty gross by now.

And that's pretty much all.

2011-01-20T21:05:00.000-08:00

There came a point where I thought I had it together. I had figured it out. I could move on with life. I had conquered the hurt. I wouldn't need to choose to be happy every day. I just would be. I could focus on others and their hurt. I was over my own problems.

And yes. I have to move on. I have to focus on others. I have to keep it together.

But no. I haven't conquered the hurt. I haven't figured it out. I have to choose to be happy every day.

Because it still hurts. I still get certain sensations in my gut that make me want to puke. They won't leave if I ask them, or if I focus on good things all day, or if I read my Bible, or if I pray, or if I make myself useful, or if I give my compassion to others. They're always there. And they'll be there for a long time.

But at the end of the day, if I can remember that the hurt is not the biggest thing out there, then I will have conquered it. It'll still be there, but a big hurt looks less intimidating when you bring in a bigger God and bigger love.

2011-01-11T14:37:00.000-08:00

"The deepest truth about you is not that you are a fallen human being. That's true, but it's not the deepest truth. The deepest truth about you is that you are made in the image of God and that image has not been exploded and blown up, or vaporized. The image is still there, but it is fractured and fragmented." -Rob Whittaker

2011-01-08T19:32:00.000-08:00

The other day I was sitting there thinking and sort of absently i realized that it'd been quite the year. I could barely remember last Christmas.

Lots of brain squishing and I remembered that I was still working at that small town coffee shop with Bailey and Steph. I still thought about nothing but China. I was pointlessly taking a couple classes. My family still lived on Starry Road. The church plant was a new thing. And...my world was pretty small.

I think 2010 started more in December for me. December 17 actually. The day Jesus took Mei Mei to heaven.

From there things went...uuuh...not downhill so much. Maybe you could say from there I started growing up. Or my world started broadening. Or I started learning things. Figuring out who I was. Falling in love with Jesus. One of those options, but I definitely wouldn't choose 'downhill.'

It looks like downhill though. Apart from the England bit.

I managed a cafe for a couple months. Never doing that again, it sucked.

Took a train in England. Lifelong dream of mine fulfilled right there.

Made friends I'll always love and may never see again.

I learned that contentment isn't so much being happy with whatcha got, but making happiness out of whatcha got.

Ania. (Ania learned to spell her name and just asked me to type it.)

I got addicted to Lost, the Office, 24, and Psych. Not all at the same time.

Figured out that where I am is where God wants me and there's only so much I can do to grow myself by myself. And the same goes for other people. Where God has them is where He wants them and I'm just supposed be the loyal friend and love them.

I moved out. And yes all the books came with me. I have a feeling that until I have a house house that's like...permanent...with a husband to go with it and everything...that the books might have to migrate back to the Family's place.

Shopping and cooking are so not my thing. I'd like to change that.

I got lost in Amsterdam at midnight with two friends. It was quite the experience. I probably would have liked it if I hadn't been tired and crabby.

Pretended I was a MK in france for 10 days. I'd like to go back and pretend it again someday. I miss that family.

Held my 30 rose bouquet and the bride's even bigger bouquet during an hour long ceremony. I was sore afterwards. Next time I'm maid of honor I'm lifting weights beforehand. It was worth it though.

The father moved out. And I learned that I can say honestly hard crap to someone in a nice way if I need too. Didn't know I even had that ability.

Enter best friend Amanda. My life would be a mess without her.

The redbox has seen the face of Nicole, Dustin, and I far too much. Mostly because we aren't good at decisions.

Got fired. (unjustly in my opinion...and pretty much everyone else's), unemployment, job searching...and now...nannying and cafeing.

Maui. Oh joy. It looked like the post cards.

There's more but at the moment I can't think of it. And reading any more would get boring for all you folks inside the computer.

In the end...it was the worst year of my life. But considering that I'm still alive and a totally different person (in good ways i think) because of it, I really wouldn't trade it for anything. Picturing who I would be if life had simply continued in a straight forward boring way is not exactly pretty.

2011-01-05T16:04:00.000-08:00

Avery has a family now...

So now Shane (Zhang Chunhai) holds the title of "my China baby"

he lives in Samaratin's House, will turn two on February 17, and has complex heart problems including pulmonary arterial hypertension and ventricular vectal defect

21

2010-12-24T13:20:00.000-08:00

It's past noon and I'm still not sure what the big deal about 21 is.

Maybe having a beer in Germany takes away the excitement of being officially old enough to drink in the US or something. Or maybe not wanting to go out and get drunk so that I can puke it up on Christmas morning (or any other morning for that matter) does it. Not sure.

Whatever it is...It's another birthday. Another Christmas. Another day. Another rain shower in the northwest. Another opportunity to wear my purple dress and black TOMS. Another 5 minutes to check facebook. Another hug from my little sister. Another reflection of Christmas lights in the window. Another prayer for snow. Another headache. Another smile. Another latte. Another story to write. Another complication to figure out. Another book to read.

life goes on.

2010-12-22T23:42:00.000-08:00

this old friend of mine...

married.

got to stand next to her and watch.

these bests to laugh and keep the hurt from taking over.

family vacation...minus the little girls. maui. sun. bikini tan. sand in your shorts. tangled hair. bubba gumps. new yellow toms shoes.

chris n kat to hang with, live with, play wii with, snorkel with

larabee with capernwray friends...Jess, Bailey, & Dave from Scotland...and Jess's friend Katie

her first heaven birthday. i still miss her.

2010-11-30T20:46:00.001-08:00

there comes a time...
...when you have nothing left to give or feel.

except a silly face.

2010-11-29T16:41:00.000-08:00

A girl at work last week told me that Ania and I look alike. It confused me. I was like...'but she's Korean.' And she said, 'yeah I know. But she's still just like a little miniature Kaisha."

And that made my small world.

Ania is...um...just very Ania. She's extreme. She's SUPER happy when she's happy and SUPER sad when she's sad. And any opinions she has are EXTREMELY strong opinions. Her hair is kind of representative of her personality...it's big and thick and boofy and doesn't ever do anything calmly.

Anytime I see her she screams 'Teesha' so that the whole world can hear and comes running to give me a hug. And her hugs only get better.

She can be difficult...a handful...frustrating. To say the least.

But I think she's gonna turn into a best friend...even if there is a 15 year age difference.

2010-11-10T18:04:00.001-08:00

life hurts. 

alot of times i'm seriously genuinely happy. 

but other times i just get tired. 

tired of not seeing my daddy when i go over to my people's house. 

tired of watching what i say to dad and wondering if he'll ever come back to us...wanting to show him jesus love and being tongue tied at the same time. 

tired of telling guy friends that i don't want to date them. i love um too much to be fine with breaking their hearts. 

tired of wishing for a full gas tank and an air ticket to england. 

tired of wondering what people are thinking about me. 

tired of missing people i'll never see again. 

tired of being on the verge of tears and never having them actually spill out. 

tired of watching my little sisters cry when dad's car drives away again. 

tired of explaining my life to people but at the same time feeling like i need to talk it out of me. 

tired of being tired and just wanting to fall asleep as soon as i go to bed. 

tired of wishing jesus would materialize in front of me and hug me. i could use a hug from him. 

usually i'm ok. i'm really happy. i wake up. go to work. drink coffee. watch the office. talk with my roomie. stay up too late. listen to 'light up the sky' by the afters over and over and over again. love jesus. and remind myself every 30 seconds that he loves me. 

and sometimes he reminds me that he loves me in these funky ways. he uses other people and it's always when i need it most. 

he loves me...and he will stop at nothing to show me that. he died because of that love. and he won't let me forget. 

and it's just enough to keep me moving. 

enough to face my dad with love when he wants to have a relationship...even though he's never wanted it before and now he's abandoned my family. 

enough to know that my life has a point. 

enough to hug my little sister and look beyond her stubbornness at her hurting confused little heart. 

enough to explain one more time to someone how my family is doing. 

enough to have hope for my friends that don't know his love. 

enough to talk over 'issues' with mom and rehash them over in my own brain everyday. 

it's this constant thing...it never goes away. this knowledge in the back of my heart that says 'you are beautiful and i love you.' it almost hurts because i don't know what to do about it. i just keep going with life. facing crappy circumstances everyday with a grin is about all i know how to do right now. 

i've learned that it doesn't matter so much how big the hurt is in my heart at the end of a day. no matter how much i try to trust or give it to god or remind myself truth...the hurt will still be there. 

and it kills. and you cry and lay in bed forever without falling asleep and wish you could fix it or someone would fix it or anything. 

but at the end of the day...no matter how big the hurt is...there's this little thingy somewhere way back that knows for sure without doubt that God is bigger. the hurt feels bigger. but i know it's not. and knowing that gives me enough guts to stare down life everyday.

***

when i'm feeling all alone
with so far to go
the signs are nowhere on this road
guiding me home
when the night is closing in
it's falling on my skin
oh god will you come close

and light light light up the sky
you light up the sky to show me you are with me
and i i i can't deny
no i can't deny that you are right here with me

you've opened my eyes
so i can see you all around me

you light light light up the sky
to show me you are with me

the stars are hiding in the clouds
i don't feel them shining
when i can't see beyond my doubt
the silver lining
when i've almost reached the end
like a flood you're rushing in
your love is rushing in

light light light up the sky
you light up the sky to show me you are with me
and i i i can't deny
no i can't deny that you are right here with me
you've opened my eyes
so i can see you all around me

light light light up the sky
you light up the sky to show me
that you are with me

so i run straight into your arms
you're the bright and morning sun
to show your love there's nothing you won't do

light light light up the sky
you light up the sky to show me you are with me
and i i i can't deny
no i can't deny that you are right here with me

you've opened my eyes
so i can see you all around me

light light light up the sky
you light up the sky to show me
that you are with me

light up the sky . the afters

Dear Miss Etta-Lee

2010-10-04T17:00:00.000-07:00

just looking through old things I've tried writing and found this. thought it was kinda cute. but you never really know for sure with your own writing.

Dear Miss Loretta Moattly, 

     I have been told that I am, of sorts, your cousin. To be precise, I am your half-brother’s uncle’s granddaughter’s daughter. I can’t say if that makes me a second, third, forth, twenty-third, or removed cousin. Family trees are not my talent.

     However, I am undoubtedly certain that our relation gives me the right to send you letters. I have been pining away for someone to write to. Mailing notes to your own self becomes dismal very quickly. 

Do not bother writing me back if you’d rather not. But please do read my letters. It is much more satisfactorial to write when you know it will be read.

I know you are an old woman. I hope you don’t mind me saying it for it’s just a fact. Most old women I have met seem to think I am a young and foolish child. I am not. Fifteen is a mature age for the most part, and I am a firsthand witness of it. 

What strikes me as decidedly odd though, is that many people my age treat you old people as if you were the young and foolish children. It’s not like you know everything, but you sure do know more than me. Particularly stories. Old folks generally tell first rate stories. I can tell good stories, but none from decades ago, and not nearly as many. My story repertoire is quite limited compared to yours. 

So, I make it quite clear that I am not writing you because I think you are old and stupid. And I hope you will not read my letters thinking I am young and stupid. 

     Quite contrary to that, I am writing you because you are another person. A person who reads. A person who will read my letters. And so that makes you as good as any other person to write to. And a person to write to is what I want most at the moment. 

      Because I find it excruciatingly annoying when people run out of paper and write up the sides of their letters, I will end here. You will hear from me again soon.

                Most Definitely Yours Truly, 

                                Florence Jo 

P.S. I am afraid I had forgotten that “satisfactorial” is not a word. But it is already in ink and cannot be helped. My apologies.

my house...

2010-09-28T09:41:00.000-07:00

The Boy Problems of an 8 Year Old

2010-09-27T14:12:00.000-07:00

Kaisha, guess what. 

There's this boy in my class that LIKES me. 

But it's so gross cuz he picks his nose. 

Joy and Happiness and Stuff

2010-09-15T21:02:00.000-07:00

This joy thing is almost starting to freak me out.

I'm a pessimist.

Hi. I'm Kaisha the pessimistic depressed grump.

But I'm not that way anymore. I know that because life really really sucks lately. And just when it seems like it's becoming maybe ok...something (or nothing) happens and it all goes downhill and blah.

The thing is that when it all goes blah, and i start to question why, and wonder what i really do want out of life, and what life is about, where God went and all that...I dig deep and always at the bottom is this joy. This really broad, deep thing that is firm and immovable and solid and simultaneously super bouncy, excited, and just bursting.

For the first time in my life I am truly Joyful and content.

I was talking to a friend today and dearly wished I could offer her some kind of advise about how she could make it happen in her own heart. But I couldn't. Because I did absolutely nothing to be like this.

For years I thought that I should be happy. Find my happiness and joy in Jesus. And be content.

But I couldn't. It just was not happening.

I think it was when I sort of unconsciously gave up on trying that it happened. He gave me a joy that is so deep that...um...that I don't even know what.

I think I had happiness and joy mixed up. I thought joy was happiness. Like...if I wasn't emotionally in a place where I could smile happily at the big stinking world on a bad day then I wasn't being joyful.

That's so not true. Just because the end of the story is always joy, doesn't mean I'm happy. Life is still crap. (sorry. but it is.) And I don't have to be happy about it to have Joy.

Joy isn't an emotion. It can spill over into emotion and happiness, but at it's core that's not what it is. For me it's more of a knowledge.

Knowledge that God is always there. That it's all in His hands. That no matter how I mess up or am hurt He still loves me. Knowing that He's proven Himself faithful and will keep proving Himself. That He can change and keep safe the people I love. And that He loves them too. That He'll do what's best for them.

I knew all that stuff before...but not the way I do now.

And maybe all that is just a load of rot...but it's how I see it...and if I'm wrong someday He'll show me. It's life. Figuring stuff out. Getting it wrong. Learning it over again. And every step of it brings you to fall in love more with Him.

And why is it freaking me out? Well it's not really actually freaking me out...I just don't get it. It's so big and amazing and out of character for me. I never imagined that life could be like this.

And I wanted to end this by saying that I have an awesome God or something like that. But it sounds way too cheesy and not climactic enough. Problem is I can't think of any other words. So you're just going to have to catch the spirit of the thing:

I must really have an awesome God.

2010-08-26T23:36:00.000-07:00

feeling the need to blog...hm. maybe best day of my entire stay in England? day trip to Windermere in the Lake District to see the home of Beatrix Potter...

. Jill . South africa (aka Katherine) . Andrea . Jess . Me .

. Bailey . South Africa . Jill . Andrea . Me . Jess .

oh that's only me...standing on Beatrix Potter's doorstep...

where to find the best fish n chips?

england...the lake district...windermere...the Little Chippy

best place to eat Little Chippy's fish n chips...a random rock wall next to a small parking lot

2010-08-21T00:34:00.000-07:00

Back from Capernwray. 

Life is hard. 

You'd think it'd be like..."oh yay! I just got back from Europe and I learned so much and God is awesome and blah blah blah." And all happy and full of stories and stuff. 

Sort of. Yes to all the "God is awesome, and I learned so much" part. 

But I would give a whole freakin lot to go back in time about two months and keep everyone from getting on that coach and leaving on the last night. Just to have Capernwray life continue as it had been. I don't want to go relive it. Because there was hard stuff that I learned and had to go through when I was there. 

But to have it continue. To be with my friends again. Sleep in my own bed with the lumpy pillow. Look out my window and see everyone meander out of the dining hall. Pass a note in lectures. Walk the loop. Go out after lock up. Sit in the corridor til 3 in the morning talking about anything and everything with my roomie. Balance on that gate and cry my heart out. Watery hot chocolate. Alphabetizing library books. All of it...the good and bad.

What's hard is to explain why I miss it, and in conjunction explain what I learned.  

God had taught me that it was never just me. It was always us. Me and Him together. 

I learned that where he has me is where he wants me. 

That any labels or views I have of myself are way overridden by the fact that I'm his daughter. First. Always. 

And I could feel change and progress with big battles I'd been having. He was tearing me down a little at a time. And I thought that if only I could stay at Capernwray for a few more months my life would be radically changed forever. 

But God brought me home instead. And my life is still changed forever. 

It's just harder to feel the change. 

Still, he's been so...there. Or here I guess. Here for me. 

Every once in a while something will happen. Something big or something small. And I'll realize that that was God. He's still faithful. He's still here. Right beside me. Feeling my pain. Convincing me to fall in love with him little by little. 

I can see him working. Not feel him so much. But I can see it. 

Exactly one week after I got back I had a job offer. Within the next week he dropped a little house and a roommate right in my lap. He's given me eyes to see this town in a new light and to appreciate it more. He's brought me a wonderful new friend that I don't know how I ever lived without. 

And then...to top it off. 

I was in the library one day. A little blonde haired boy in a tye dyed shirt came around the corner: "Hello."

"Hi."

"You look pretty today."

"What?"

"You look pretty." 

"Thank you."

Then his huge brown eyes looked straight into mine and I swear I saw Jesus in them.

"You're welcome."

He gave me a hug and walked away.

And...as weird as it may sound...I think somehow God meant that compliment and hug to be from him. 

*france*

this is the life...

2010-08-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

both on skype . both in the dark being quiet because peoples are sleeping . both giggling . neither talking . both on facebook . both commenting on this picture on facebook . both are dorks . both know it . both appreciate the other one because of it

2010-08-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

Avery...almost 2 <3

Epic

2010-08-05T19:50:00.000-07:00

I use the word "epic" alot. Actually, I overuse it. It's kind of lame and cheesy of me really.

But...I have looked it up. Yep. Dictionary.com. 

Epic: adjective, noting or pertaining to a long poetic composition, usually centered upon a hero, in which a series of great achievements or events is narrated in elevated style

Come on, really. How cool is that! If I say something is "epic," I'm alluding to the fact that whatever it is is part of an abnormally awesome story with an exciting plot and a hero who performs great achievements. 

And I have most definitely come to the conclusion that I have an epic life. 

I am a heroine in the midst of a series of events, great adventures, achievements, and challenges. And of course it's all written in elevated style cuz God's writing it.  

2010-07-29T22:59:00.000-07:00

my eyes are wet and my pillow has mascara on it. homesick.

Falling in Love...Jason Gray

2010-07-29T19:38:00.000-07:00

important questions

2010-07-22T15:52:00.001-07:00

Is whipped cream a side dish?

This is an important question often discussed and considered by a dear friend of mine. Even though I had never actually asked it pondered it myself previously, I think it's something everyone should seriously consider and take a strong stance on.

Of course, you can argue that whipped cream is often called whipped topping. This proves it is a topping or garnish. Something extra. It is never on it's own a side dish.

Your second argument might be that whipped cream tastes much better when licked directly off your finger and usually in a deceptive stealing type situation, and not in an actual "this is a food you may eat at dinner" type situation. This is true.

You could say that in all your experience you have never encountered whipped cream as a side dish. So, it is impossible to imagine it as such. Such assumptions are wrong however, and you should never limit things by your own small personal experience within your measly exsistance. You are not the expert so stop acting like it.

And, who is to say that even if, in all its history, whipped cream has never been a side dish, it can't beome one. A side dish is a food right? And even better, it's a food people like. Love actually. (Never use the word like. It's mediocre.) In fact, any personage that doesn't like whipped cream is insane and can't tell their own wants and needs.

From my personal experience with whipped cream, I know that it is always delightful. Nothing can diminish it's delightfulness except a clogged whipped cream can nozzle. And as I am a near expert on the subject, I do believe that whipped cream would make a delicious side dish.

Because what is more happy that a bowl of white fluffy fat and sugar?

Answer that one for me huh?

a coffee and tea market stand in Ely, England

2010-06-21T11:18:00.000-07:00

seth. breanna . hannah . becca . lisa . me . elizabeth . rebecca . kristin . austin

i told my mom earlier that i would blog. so...i thought i'd share my desktop background with ya'll. these peoples are my interactive group. i mean they were. while school was happening. and you know...who says they can't still be my interactive group?

interactive groups are made up of the people that live in your area. so some are basically my neighbors. we had to get together once a week on mondays. we each had to have a turn "leading" the conversation. we had an awesome time playing games...apples to apples, two truths n a lie... and talking about ourselves, our lives, our struggles, and nothing in particular. we were really good at getting off topic. everyone was open and we had alot of laughs.

the last day we all brought food. piled it on two desks and ate. haha! it was epic.

so...three cheers for some of my favorite people!

2010-06-03T06:45:00.000-07:00

Our bed n breakfast room

my first city bus ride...how ironic is that?

Edinurgh

haggis...the brown stuff

First thing we do in Edinburgh? McDonalds...cuz it's the "taste of America." Am I the only one that finds that sad?

Alli . Jess . Amy . Bailey

On the North Bridge trying to figure out the bus

Helena . Bailey . Amy

Our Bed n Breakfast

this one's for Hans <3

2010-06-03T06:22:00.000-07:00

My friend Alli...she's on staff here and everyone thinks we are sisters...????

2010-05-31T07:41:00.000-07:00

Edinburgh Scotland!

(And side note: I worked hard to learn how to say it. It's not 'Edinberg.' It's 'Edin-burra.' It's kind of a mix

between 'Edin-burrow' and 'Edin-burra.' Ya. It's way complicated. We all went around saying "Edinburgh. Edinburgh. Edinburgh." ...practicing.) (and sorry my pictures aren't lined up right in this post. it's driving me insano)

So about...i dunno...a few weeks ago now...Capernwray has a travel weekend. You can stay at the school if you want, but you have three days to go do whatever. You have to plan it yourself. Seven of us girls decided to go to Edinburgh. (Actually a whole lot of other students went to Edinburgh too, but we didn't travel with them...we just ran into them all over the place and had dinner with um once.)

We stayed at a bed and breakfast called St. Conans. Jimmy made these awesomeness delicious Scottish potato scones for breakfast. So to die for.

We walked around, shopped, wandered the Royal Mile, walked, went to Edinburgh Castle, stopped in countless tourist shops that all had woolen scarves and plaid stuff and kilts, walked, had a nice chat with William Wallace, and...walked.

I rode a city bus for the fist time in my life...a bus pass was 3 pounds for a day.

Haggis is a Scottish delicacy. It's sheep stomach. Jess and I were the only souls brave enough to try it. And...ha! it wasn't bad! It was kind of just like a rice or kuskus texture, and tasted like sausage.We had also heard that another Scottish thing was hot chocolate with whiskey in it. So we tried that too...(don't judge me...it was yummy :P )

Bailey...being a model for Andrea, Helena, and Jess...

this one's for daddy :)

2010-05-31T06:55:00.000-07:00

Capernwray in the sunset...

apparently the farmers have this unspoken contest to see who can catch the most moles...so they hang them on their barbed wire fences

we decided to walk to a big hill behind Capernwray one night to watch the sunset. it was about a 35-40 minute walk through fields of cows, over barbed wire and gates, and through people's yards, and up hills that are ten times steeper than they look. it was so amazingly worth it. you could see the sea on one side, Capernwray Hall behind us, Carnforth, and lots of layers of hills. the cows were seriously considering stampeding us which made Bailey scream which made the boys have to go scare the cows away which looked really funny which made us all laugh.

a couple of my bestest friends here: Bailey, Jess, and Brooke

me . brooke . jess . helena . bailey . johnathan . johnathan

jess n me...

2010-05-23T08:51:00.000-07:00

above: Bailey, Brooke, Amy, and Jess...all of us are "Bible reading" ha! (not)

below: Brooke, Amy and Jess...still Bible reading...

above: Sam showing Hannah and I card tricks...

below: Bailey, Jess, and Brooke playing "chicken goggles" kinda like the hand game or zip bong

above: Becca about to throw water balloons at us

below: Seth, Bailey, Amy, Weston, and half of Jess's face...

(these people are strange at best, and no, I do not hang out with them)

2010-05-21T06:31:00.000-07:00

Just more Chatsworth House...cuz I have alot of pictures from it. :)

2010-05-19T08:32:00.000-07:00

Background for you people that don't know anything: Chatsworth House was where they filmed the new version of Pride and Prejudice. We went to see it on a weekend Saturday trip.

Only sad thing about Chatsworth was that some stupid girl had kissed the bust of Mr. Darcy that is in the movie, and gotten lipstick on it. It had to be taken away for washing.

Crazy girl. We were mad.

Right now the Duke and Duchess live at the house. Imagine having a few hundred people come and walk around your house and backyard every day? We were allowed to walk through a third of the house, but it was about a half mile walk. And the grounds and gardens went on and on forever. There was even a maze. And plenty of statues and fountains and old famous artwork. They even had this springtime flower exhibit with the most funky imaginative flower arrangements scattered all around the house.

The funny thing is that mixed in with all the old cool stuff is modern art. The current duke and duchess like it...for some reason that none of us could figure out. It wasn't even worthy of photography. Except for this one piece. It was a picture...not a painting or a photograph...more like an outline of a woman's face. And it changed color. It was really creepy. We stood and stared at it with really confused faces and were pretty much grossed out.

I have about five million more pictures I could put up here but it would take forever. So...Chatsworth House for ya'll!

2010-05-11T06:49:00.000-07:00

Breanna . Bailey . Me . Kristin Me & Elizabeth

Brooke . Zoe . Kristin . Bailey . Andrea . Kaitlyn . Avery . Elizabeth . ? . Me . Breanna

Breanna . Elizabeth . Andrea . ? . Kristin . Me

Caz n Me

Just random Chatsworth House pictures of me and my friends :)

2010-05-10T07:04:00.000-07:00

On our way to Chatsworth House...Bailey and me in the first picture. Victoria and Elizabeth in the second.

One day Victoria and I were chatting in my room. I showed her my cute black hat and told her it was one of those things I liked but could never quite bring myself to wear it. She said she believed that if we like it we should just wear it.

So I did.

And later she told me I looked pretty in it...I love her.

Elizabeth is a funny story. She's actually Bailey's neighbor. I used to work at a coffee shop in her town. And I'd never met her until now. Fancy that! Neighbors meet in England!

And you have to notice that they're driving on the wrong side of the road on the motorway. (It's a motorway not a freeway.) It's way harder to get used to that than you'd think. I sat in the front seat of a little car on the way to Carnforth one day and seeing the cars coming from the wrong side of the road gives your brain a weirdness and you think you're going to get hit. Doesn't help that the roads are teeny either.

Electric fences and wooden post fences are something of a novelty here. Haven't seen one. Ever. It's all stone walls and hedges. And there's seriously sheep everywhere. Some of the students here can't believe that we don't have sheep all over at home. They wonder what we do have...cows...I guess.

At home it's always..."oh hey look! a sheep!" But over here it's..."oh my gosh it's a cow!"

2010-05-09T07:31:00.000-07:00

Bailey, Jess, and I were out one day taking a walk right before lectures...we cut it too close and had to run the last little bit to be on time. We had our cameras with us, and my friend Helena was looking at mine, and then started snapping pictures. Something I'm kinda shy about.

1. Lecure Hall
2. Me. :) At my desk right in front of Helena
3. Anna Maria (who's coming back from a missions trip in Kenya today), and Victoria (who's awesome and has been so encouraging to me...from Germany)
4. Jenna! I don't know her super well, but she's alot of fun.

Oh oh...and in the fist picture at the very front of the stage there's that guy in blue...that's Eis. And at this point you can bow down to your computer screen...cuz Eis is awesome. :P

2010-05-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

...1, 2 and 3 are my room. To get to my room...you go up all the stairs in picture 4. Through a door, down the stairs in the 5th picture, and my door is the first on the right.

And the last one is a fail of a self portrait of me and my roomies...we'll get a better one someday. It goes...Doro, Me, Hannah, Deborah.

Hannah and I discovered we are kindred spirits of a sort. We have formed a literary society in the hallway after lock up. And you don't even want to know what we found ourselves doing last night at 1:30 am. Let's just say we found ourselves rolling on the floor speechless with giggles...and seriously wondering what had gone wrong with ourselves.

Sorry I haven't blogged or done anything internetish for a super long time. The internet really was down for a few days. :p blah.

But I am alive...

And have only about three million and two pictures. I've been on short excersions to Lancaster and Carnforth. Heard about 21 lectures this week. Seen the "marriage board" stolen. Walked to the ruins after evening lectures. Cut my "fringe"...aka bangs. Manned a table tennis station during police day. Run up and down many circular castle steps. Sat in the hallway after lockup and chatted with my roomies. Slept over in my adopted roomies' bedroom. Hugged a radiator cuz it's freezing here. Climbed over alot of fences. Scared alot of sheep. Am learning to say "one john" and not "first john." It's not dinner, it's tea...except I always drink coffee instead.

And now I better publish this because the internet is gonna turn off at 10.

2010-04-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

My roomie...Dorothee from Germany. Me. Bailey. On a walk around the Capernwray property. I think I'm going to go read by that big tree in the background right now...I think.

Eis van Dijk. One of the guest lectureres this week. Amazing. Really. I love him. He's so fun to listen too, and he's so clear, and has described and explained perfectly, things that I've only recently learned. I almost cried after his first lecture. He's been lecturing on Galations. Here's some stuff he's talked about:

Walking by faith works like this:

TRUTH (what God says) produces BELIEF in us, which becomes BEHAVIOR, which then produces EMOTIONS.

Walking by sight is backwards. Like this:

TRUTH produces EMOTIONS, which produce BEHAVIOR, which we then analyze to decide what it is we BELIEVE.

Here's some more stuff from my notes:

"Do I think of myself as a sinner? If I'm walking by sight then I do. God doesn't see me as a sinner. If I see myself as a sinner, I will believe as a sinner. I am saved though...If I believe truth about what God says about me, then I will behave according to the truth. I'm saved."

The gospel isn't..."Jesus died for my sins and saved me." That's just the first part.

It's... Jesus died for my sins and cleansed me. Then he filled me with himself. Then he sealed me with the Holy Spirit. That's the gospel.

Hm. That's random. And I don't know if it makes sense. But whatever. It's a blog post so it will make you all happy. :)

2010-04-26T13:41:00.000-07:00

Today...we adventured to Carnforth. The closest town to school. We stopped at Tesco...the grocery store. It's kind of like a Red Apple. But someone compared it to Walmart. They haven't been to Wal-mart.

Then we went to the three story book store. I'm going to spend a whole saturday there sometime.

I really don't think you've been to a real cafe until you've visited the Edelweiss. I'll take pictures for ya sometime. The friendliest little man served us. He made me tea in a teapot and gave me a little cream pitcher to go with it, and a white mug on a saucer. And the three of us shared an deliciousness scone. When he asked how it was we told him good...of course. And he acted all surprised.

"Nooooo...no....really?"

"Well did you make it?"

"Yes, of course I did!"

"Oh. It wasn't any good. Nope."

"Oh well good then!"

The red head in the picture is Kristin. She's from the US and has an big gorgeous smile. I didn't get any pictures of Carnforth yet, but will next time!

2010-04-25T07:12:00.000-07:00

1...the door to the castle
2...the castle!
3...the conference hall. where church, lectures, and crazy running around games happen
4...a thingy in the fence that you can climb over to get to another pasture
5...the ceiling above the castle lobby area
6...the castle from the pasture
7...this picture doesn't give the view any justice at all. there's sheep and cows all over that far hill. it's amazing. really. even though it doesn't look amazing. :)

To get to room 15, you go up the main big staircase, through a door, down a few steps, and my room is to the right. I'm not kidding when I say you can get lost in the castle.

I have a French roommate, a German roommate, and a British Roommate. Hannah, Doro, and Deborah...respecitively.

It's funny how I keep finding little things that I've read about in lots of British books, but never really thought about or hoped to experience.

I finally know what Digory's house was like in The Magician's Nephew...all connected to the other houses. It really is like 3 or 4 double story brick houses squished together side by side.

I tried ginger beer. No...not ginger ale, or beer. It's a soft drink that's ginger flavored. It was deliciousness actually.

And today for dessert at dinner (lunch) we had cake with custard. And not cake as in chocolate frosted sugar. But more like cobbler topping with some berries in it type cake. And custard is amazing.

There's sheep all all all over the place here. I went on a walk with my family group on Friday night and we walked through field after field with sheep, rolling green hills, oak trees, hedges and stone fences.

And apparently I have an accent.

2010-04-24T08:53:00.000-07:00

Our ever so beautiful faces after about 15 hours of traveling, with 2 more left to go. Everything went smoothly until we got on the train to Carnforth. No one was on the train, so we didn't know what all the reserved signs were for on the seats. Whatever. We sat in them anyway. Put our small (30 pound carry ons) above us on the storage shelf, held onto our backpacks, and stuck or 50 pound suitcases on the seats in front of us to make the aisle clear.

Next stop, a madly giggling, crazy bachelorate party got on. And...guess what...we were in their seats! Problem was, by then we didn't have a way to move because the train was so full we couldn't get our luggage moved out of the way. Eventually we moved over and had to ride out the rest of the train ride hanging on to the bags and trying to keep balance.

Being squished against the train doors, two bags over your shoulder, sitting on one, and holding onto the other one because it always falls over...isn't too bad. Until the door opens and people crowd on and you have to try desperately not to fall out and get left behind.

We survived all everything that came our way and arrived at the school after a perilous drive on the wrong side of the road.

Now if you could please pray that i don't get lost in the castle again. It's a maze. Literally.

sorry...they're not the greatest pictures but they work. no pics of the school yet...but soon. :)

2010-04-21T23:21:00.000-07:00

Farewell! I'm off to Amsterdam tomorrow morning! Amsterdam...then Manchester...then Carnforth...then Capernwray Bible School.

2010-04-19T23:25:00.000-07:00

I already told you about my lovely last couple months. And...I could elaborate, add more details, other big crazy life things that happened, and even give you the story of the last couple years. But I think you get the picture. Life sometimes sucks.

But I lived through it. It's not like everything was ok and fine. But I could see enough of God's hand to know that it was under control and for the better. But still...it was the hardest couple months of my long lifespan of 20 years.

Through it I would tell myself: "Oh it's just life I guess. I'll survive."

But even though it was "fine," and there were alot of good parts to it, it still was pretty much misery. And I couldn't wait to leave my little life behind.

What did leaving life behind look like? It looked like a long plane ride to a castle in England. It looked like sitting in Bible class lectures. Reading...alot. Tea. A train ride in England just like all the ones I've read about in my favorite books. Getting a British accent. Finding a friend from a different country.

It basically has nothing to do with work, accounting class, work, pneumonia, work, keeping up with friends, family, daily life, and work.

The day finally came. Two suitcases and my messenger bag were stuffed with a million shirts, my favorite skirts, 2 pairs of converse, my black hat, green bag, camera, and books. Passport. Itinerary. Boarding pass. School acceptance letter. Everything perfect and ready.

Then. In Iceland. A wicked little bird told the angry volcano gods that a certain excited girl in a pear skirt and black hat was planning to fly to England. And the angry volcano gods laughed loudly and made plans to bring the excited girl's life to ruins by spewing ash all over Europe so that any plane destined for England would never be able to take off because of engine failure, crashing, and...death.

Ok...sure...that might be a little over the top. But. It felt like that.

You'd think it's be like..."Oh, big deal. No problem. We'll catch a different plane in a few days. Miss a couple days of school. What the heck. Who cares?"

Um...ya...no. It wasn't like that.

I could get through 60 hour work weeks while getting over a fever and dealing with a...difficult...boss.

I could cry about lost friends, hard family life, moving from my childhood home, and failing a class.

I could miss Mei Mei just as much as I did 5 months ago when she died, or 10 months ago when I last saw her.

But it was fine. It was all good. He somehow kept my trust and let me see enough of the amazingness that He was doing in my life that I could get through it without going on depression medication or anything.

Then the stupid volcano blew.

And I fell apart.

I thought I was leaving my hard little world. Taking a break. From the moment I got on that plane I thought my life would be all grand with no worries.

Not.

I sat on the slab outside my bedroom door and bawled. I was frustrated that one more stupid thing had to mess up my life. I was mad that He would let it happen. I'd had enough. Hadn't I learned enough already? I thought life would be done happening. But apparently it wasn't. And I couldn't get over it.

All that stuff I had thought of as just "life," wasn't life. It was Him. He'd been teaching me the whole time. I was going to escape "life" and leave. But I can't escape Him. And He wasn't finished with me.

I was mad at myself. I was immature, I was selfish, I was letting a little setback completely get me down. I thought I trusted Him. And now I was a failure. In front of Him.

I'd been excited to spend hours in Bible lectures, reading God books and my Bible. I was going to learn from studying. But instead of teaching me through all that, He chose to teach me through the absence of all that.

Weird. Not what I would have expected. Obviously.

A friend told me this: You should be looking back - not going "Wow, I've been through so much." But more like, "Wow, look what God has gotten me through."

And she's right. I'm still sad. And have kind of given up on hoping to hard for anything really nice to happen to me in the near future.

The same Him that got me through everything before, will get me through a long, boring, sad week. I failed miserably, but He's ok with failure. He's not gonna look at it and think, "Pft...forget her. She can't deal with a little trial and get past her stupid problems." I might think that...but He won't.

He gives you problems and expects you to fail. Otherwise what would be the point of the problems?

at this moment...

2010-04-18T21:45:00.000-07:00

...my 17 year old brother is wearing my black hat.

"I like this hat. It makes me look...special."

Undeniable truths from the mouth of my little brother.

Bobby and our amazingness cousin Amanda

A Happy Thought

2010-03-26T09:27:00.000-07:00

So…I am now going to shut up about depressing life and stuff like that…and find a happy thought.

First…I bought a snazzy cute skirt with apples and pears on it. I know it sounds hideous, but it makes me happy so get over it and don’t laugh when you see me wearing it.

And…I’ve been texting my cousin lately. Cousins are pretty much happiness personified. And my cousins rock my socks. (No idea where that came from or what it means so don’t ask.)

Stupid thing is that they live out of town. Three hours out of town. But that’s depressing and I was going to write happy.

Amanda is…um…uh…I think I need my thesaurus. Because the normal “fun, amazing, and incredible” words aren’t quite working out right now. She’s like a best friend and sister all at the same time. I can’t get away with anything without teasing, but she’s good for real life seriousness kinda talks too.

The best thing about cousins are the most retarded inside jokes and lame memories that no one else understands. To demonstrate…any of these make you laugh Amanda?

… singing Christmas songs really loud at ACK Fort (when it wasn’t Christmas)

… that, um, wonderfully memorable night sleeping in the cabin

… dwarf. :)

… the time we were running around your front yard like doks playing that awesomely lame game someone got for Christoberfest, and then the boy scouts came up selling whatever they sell and looking at us like we were morons

… I can only eat margarine

… Collin’s terrorist lady voice at 3:00 in the morning

… you and Collin IMing at the same table in my coffee shop and laughing at poor Herman trying to get out of his wheel chair

… Alissa! Belch! No...not for reals…like another word for it!

… no you’re not dating or hitting on my brother. That would be…really beyond weird.

… mini cupcakes and converse

… an entire season of 24 in less than three days

So...moral of the story:

.1. Amanda is beyond amazing...I love her, and you're really a poor and deprived human being if you haven't met her.

.2. Pink apple skirts can save the day.

. Week Three of Life .

2010-03-23T16:05:00.000-07:00

No work on Sunday! Leaves time to take a quiz, work on a lab, and try to figure out what the heck the next chapter is even about…and take another evil four hour test. The last two tests didn’t exactly…turn out. I get all ready and open the test up only to find out that I know nothing. Can’t find any help in my book, online, or anywhere. And I have absolutely no idea where to even begin looking because I don’t know what I’m looking for.

Which brings me to a dilemma. Spend the next two weeks trying to find time that I don’t have to study, be constantly frazzled out of my wee little brain, and fail. Or quit now, have a little extra time, be less stressed, and fail. I chose to fail…the easy way.

Doctor appointment. I have pneumonia. No wonder I can’t breath when during lunch rush.

Trying to learn how things work at my café, and make sure everyone else knows how it works too. My café is my home. I should just sleep on the table in the back. It’d save on gas money. Cash and Carry is my second home…a place will become home when you visit four days in a row and can recognize all the employees.

So… Life happens. It happened to me. It’s beginning to stop happening. I think...

{Never mind. I take it back. Week four. Sunday night. Food poisoning.}

2010-03-21T21:06:00.000-07:00

. Week Two of Life .

Barely over the flu.

Still failing class. No time for studying. I fall asleep in my car trying to study, and wake up only to find that in all my brilliance I left my headlights on and...now my battery's out.

We are supposed to open the cafe on Wednesday. But things get messed up and we open on Thursday.

Before opening, I have to finish the March schedule, hire one more person, try to get all my girls on the same page before things start up, go shopping with my boss, and remember 1,873,765 little things that almost don’t matter but really do matter.

Thursday comes around. Work begins. Unlock the door at 5:30 in the morning, still coughing a leftover flu cough.

Big glitch...no money in the til. No bread. We can’t open. Later in the morning we’re finally open and trying to figure out how things work. It’s not easy to give customers what they want, when you don’t know how to make it, and you have to say “excuse me” to your hovering boss every time you turn around. Craziness and insanity…to say the very least.

By Saturday night I have worked 60 hours. Coughed a lot. And slept...like...none. Thank heaven for a best friend that kept me from jumping off any bridges. :)

{life happening...week three of to follow}

. when life happens . chapter 1 .

2010-03-20T22:29:00.000-07:00

When we say life happens…we usually mean the bad stuff. I don’t know why. But...life. It happens. And when it happens, it isn’t exactly happy.

Life happened to me.

. Week One of Life .

The flu. Three days in bed with a fever, blasting headache, the aches, and a beautiful cough.

My café is supposed to open in a week. I have an endless to do list which keeps getting bigger. Being manager isn't always as cool as it's made out to be.

My bad accounting class grades hover over my head like a cartoon storm cloud that only rains on me.

I also live in a family. Which gets more than emotionally draining sometimes…and that’s all I’ll say.

{part two to follow: week two of life happening}

The Pit of Death

2010-02-09T22:54:00.000-08:00

...an IM conversation between Mia and I...

Mia: Yo Kaisha

This is Mia

Speak to me

babe

this is Mia

me: geez...

i'm not a babe

Mia: sorry

me: lol

just kidding...

Mia: I was being kinda weird lol

haha

I was right <3

me: you are weird

you were right?

about what?

Mia: ya

that I was weird

lol

me: oh ya. you were weird

but that's normal for you

so whatever

Mia: ok

fine

lollollololololol

So there

Mia: oh man

Kaisha It is time for me to go to the bottom of the pit. SCHOOL!!!! I don't like school. So can you say just one word before I go to the bottom of the pit. Because there vowing that I will die.

please talk to me

me: i died

sorry

Mia: oh thats okay

me: oh good

Mia: ya I Know i'm all nice and stuff

its okay but now I need to go to the pit of school and Ania is begging me to get her on to a computer program so bye and maybe talk to you later

me: bye

ttyl

Mia: bye so sad so bad

if i die in the school pit will you forgive everything I ever did to you

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

me: of course i will

haha

Mia: Oh thank you

Thankfully Mia is still alive and well and did not die in the pit of death...

2010-02-01T11:58:00.000-08:00

a double dozen plus one things about me…

(not because you really care but because someone tagged me on facebook and it makes an easy blog post)

How many people can say they've climbed the great wall with their mom and their grandma?

.1. I believe that nuts in ice cream is wrong

.2. I have a red and black plaid coat that I saved from my dad’s coats-to-get-rid-of pile. It’s my favorite thing. I even wear it to bed. I would wear it downtown but looking like a hillbilly isn’t my thing.

.3. A hood can make anything cute

.4. Peanut butter is gross. Celery is gross. Peanut butter and celery is good.

.5. I’d choose pie over cake every time

.6. I don’t know how to wear jewelry

.7. Peppermint is strictly a Christmas flavor (but sometimes I’m bad and put it in my coffee anyways)

.8. You can fit anything and everything into my messenger bag

.9. I don’t own any dresses. It makes me sad.

.10. I cried when Edgar died in 24

.11. Subway is my best friend

.12. I want to write just one really good story

.13. Fairhaven is the best place in the world to read a book…besides my branch in the crow’s nest tree at

our old house.

.14. I wish eggnog didn’t make me sick

.15. I’ve been known as the “bow girl”…cuz apparently I tie good bows

.16. I wanted my parents to name my little sister “Rosehill.” Don’t even ask. I don’t know.

.17. Someday I’m going to have a daughter and I’m going to name her MeiMei

.18. I almost never wear anything but converse

.19. Orange is a good color

.20. I’ve never been able to figure out eye-liner

.21. I love my work apron

.22. I really don’t mind when people can’t figure my name out

.23. I’ve always wanted a nickname and never really had a real one

.24. I always come back…please tell Ania that because she doesn’t seem to believe me

.25. I miss Chinese donuts

2010-01-28T14:46:00.000-08:00

THE GOOD STUFF IN LIFE...

Whipped cream. That stuff just makes my day.

For some people it's chocolate. They hold the firm conviction that anything dipped in chocolate must be good.

But for me...it's whip...you can squirt it on top of anything and life just takes on a whole new look.

Even just hearing an empty bottle getting squished and blowing air in a garbage bag is happy.

What's even better is asking a customer if they want whip on their nonfat drink...and then getting an embarrassed smile and a "sure." The ones that ones that look shocked and shake their head as if nonfat with whip would be a sin, just don't know anything about life.

Ever see a little kid's eyes when you hand um a hot chocolate with whip on top of the lid? ...and then their parents can't resist and lick half of it off.

After a while doing the whip becomes an art. You shake the bottle, twirl into the nozzle down position, make fast little circles with your wrist, and swing it upright again with a flourish. If you're really good you can even throw it over your shoulder and make it look like a cool trick you practiced.

2010-01-22T21:20:00.000-08:00

You ever watch a movie and think…I wish life could be just like that? You see the little charming things in the character’s lives and wonder why you and your life aren’t that way.

Well it is. Just look around.

I could be in a movie right now.

I’m sitting at the counter on a high bar stool. I’m wearing jeans, gray converse, and a plaid red jacket that used to be my dad’s. My hair is down and wavy in some spots from the braid it was in. Typing on my computer. Eating an unpeeled carrot. Homework book opened in front of me. Daffodils stand in a bowl to the right. They’re not looking as hot as they were a couple days ago. Backpack, keys, apron, and cell are spread out on the counter. Music plays from my laptop. It’s like a soundtrack to my life. I can see out the dining room window. It’s dark except for the city lights. I’m supposed to be doing homework. But my mind wanders.

See? I could be in a movie. I’d make an interesting character with my oversized coat and weird snack. Who knows what has been happening in the plot to make this moment interesting. There’s a bigger story. I can’t help wonder what it is.

Because Having a Brain Isn't Fun

2010-01-21T11:51:00.000-08:00

Really...what fun would having a brain really be? All that would result in is loneliness from being the only reasonable person around, which would make it tempting to forget your brain and do something stupid. But...your brain is there, and it tells you that it's just not a good idea to be stupid. So. Loneliness would still prevail, which would make stuck-upness a necessity to keep from becoming insane from boredom.

It's ok...I know none of you followed that...

There's no way anyone can go through life and not do something completely stupid and miserable just for the heck of it.

Two years in a row...i have done it. The first year was just jumping off the dock and climbing back out. Not so bad.

This year the tradition continued.

New Years Day. A friend's neighbor's pond. Covered in ice. We all watched for ten minutes while the ice was broken. A whole fat inch of it. Then...we swam across...one at a time.

Have you ever really thought you were going to die? I have.

About half way across (by the way, you can't touch the bottom) my body started slowing way down. My legs weren't really moving. My breathing almost stopped. And my brain started fuzzing.

Not good. I ran up against a big chunk of ice in my way and was completely lost on how to get around it. My brain was that out of it.

But it was fun. Now that it's all over, it was fun. And I'll probably do it again next year.

Why? No idea.

But why stand on the edge and watch everyone else?

Just Because I Can't Help It...

2010-01-14T14:36:00.000-08:00

2010-01-13T11:49:00.000-08:00

Avery . 8/31/2008 . Congential Aedea Malformation

Avery...my new sponsor baby...

2010-01-09T22:39:00.000-08:00

Do you ever just have a complete loss of understanding...something happens and you respond with tears or smiles or whatever the moment calls for. But even as you react, you realize that you simply don't get it. Your brain goes blank. Your emotions are suctioned out, and you're left trying to just...get a hold of something that will make it real.

Middle of December. Don't even remember what day it was. Maybe Thursday. I was working and the phone rang. My mom. She's crying. At first I thought it had just been a bad day...normal life stuff that just gets to be too much right? But no. Not this time.

"Kaish, MeiMei died."

"What?"

I want to say it felt like my heart was ripped out...but that would hurt. This didn't hurt. It's more like my heart dissolved...melted...was just gone.

Most people don't understand how I can love a little girl that lived on the other side of the planet, spoke a different language, was sick beyond help, and didn't even know I exist. They can understand showing compassion and wanting to help...but truly loving her that much? Before I even met her? She wasn't even my own kid...or sibling, or anything.

Honestly...I don't know how it works.

I sponsored Ava Hope because I wanted to. I thought I was sacrificing something...some money once a month. It was something I wanted to do kind of for fun, but also kind of because I wanted to help someone else out. Neither of those are bad reasons either.

God's funny...he takes our reasoning and logic and good intentions and turns them completely backwards on us. Even if I hadn't sponsored, that little bit of money would have come from somewhere else. Ava Hope still would have lived at Shepherd*s F*eld until she was adopted, and MeiMei's life wouldn't have been much different either.

Compared to what I gave, what I've gotten is way way way bigger. I don't totally know what all of that is yet, and how it will influence the rest of my life, but what I've learned, what I've seen, where I've gone, how I think, what I hold most important, and who I am have changed because of Ava Hope, China, and mostly MeiMei.

I know that contrary to what I thought before, I didn't choose to help MeiMei out in my own little way, God chose MeiMei to change my life.

I still don't get it. I've had to change things to past tense that I first wrote in present tense in this post. I look at pictures and cry...all the time. How could she just be gone? If anyone deserved to live, it was her. She was fragile and always breathed heavily, but she was so strong. There was a look in her eyes that showed endurance and fight. She had a silly sense of humor, and fought for her place among the other kids.

I asked Jesus to let her stay, to hold her heart and keep it working...but he took her home. Now she has a Daddy. Sometimes I ask him to hug her for me, and hold my heart...her's is perfect now.

2010-01-07T15:24:00.000-08:00

there's posts coming...really...promise...a whole lot of them...

Mei Mei

2009-11-02T09:36:00.000-08:00

I found these pictures and an update on Mei Mei on a site of someone who is in China right now. It said that she's more lethargic and obviously she's not doing so well. She didn't use oxygen when I visited this summer. Please pray for her.

Samaratan's House

2009-09-23T09:43:00.000-07:00

Mei Mei (Tiffany, my sponsor baby) and Nui Nui (Margaret, Annie's sponsor baby) live together in Samaritan's House. Since we spent alot of time in that home, we naturally got to know (and get attached) to some of the precious kids there. Alot of these kids have particularly complicated or worse medical conditions.

Mr. Tristan ... He's constantly going and would be an adorable photography subject except it's impossible to get him to hold still!

On one afternoon visit to Samaratin's House we found all the kids in chairs scarfing huge pieces of cake ... the only way to pay due honor to your little friends with July birthdays right?

Annie and Luke...another heart baby.

Adrian is all silliness and funny faces, and Nui Nui the perfect princess.

Left to Right: Sharon, Luke, Tristan, Grace

Nui Nui and Adrian

Kaisha's amazing stuffies on head entertainment during potty time!
That's me with Grace on my lap, Mei Mei in the back and Luke.

Sweet Emily. I fell in love with her. She needs blood transfusions every couple weeks. She's a quiet girl that's content to sit on your lap and watch the action. Thankfully she is going home to her very own family very soon!

Ginger. A real China doll...with a little attitude. She clings to her Ayi (Nannie) and screams if you try to pick her up. She has had several surgeries on her heart.

The kids, ayis and visitors outside of the office playing in the morning sunshine.

Shepherd*s Field...A Grand Tour

2009-09-19T15:38:00.001-07:00

the office...the first thing you see as you come in the gate

the gorgeous grounds...there's always people working on lawns and hedges

everyone rides their bikes, scooters, and motorcycles to work

the five children's homes...all lined up

one of the bedrooms

a bathroom in one of the homes

a living room...cozy and full of kids

getting ready for lunch...we had to head back to the inn about this time

the nannies would hang baby clothes out on these racks to dry

the new school...finished except for furnishings

The First Day

2009-09-09T17:33:00.000-07:00

Annie...my China traveling friend.

The first moments with our girls. Margaret (NuiNui) and Tiffany (MeiMei)

That morning we caught wind that our girls were playing outside of the office. We sort of bounced around for a while, waiting til we could go outside, took our temperatures (required before you play with the kids each day), and ran out there. Margaret came right out to us and wanted to be held. MeiMei was in a stroller. Somehow she caught my eye across the crowd of playing kids and ayis (nannies) and lifted her arms to be held. For some reason that moment really did seem like a miracle. *sigh*

Annie and Margaret

MeiMei and Me

Grandma and Clay...Clay and his wife Jewel run the inn and help guests find their way around.

China Post....here by popular demand

2009-09-09T16:39:00.000-07:00

So...We were finally off to China! I didn't really believe that I was actually there until I was there. We left the house at 7 in the morning, and took off from the airport at noon.

Starbucks is a magnet for hungry girls like us just hanging out in the airport

I slept on the plane a little...if you can call that sleep. I was very aware sort of sleep, where you're never really comfortable. So when you doze off, your head kinda slips down into a completely uncomfortable dorky position. Then you wake up enough to realize that that looks dumb and really isn't comfortable so you jerk it back up again. And that repeats itself over and over til you give up on the sleeping thing.

We traveled for 10 hours during the day...we left on the 16th, and got there on the 17th. Time changes are something that I'll never really be able to wrap my wee brain around.

The road outside of Shepherd's Field

The Office...the first building you see when you enter. The inn where we stayed is to the right.

The door of the inn.

The door to our room.

They had these little chalkboards on the front of every door. Way cute!

Inside our room. I had the top bunk on the right. It was so muggy and hot up there at night...even with air conditioning.

I love the sinks!

The front door from inside the inn.

For the Kids

2009-07-14T13:11:00.000-07:00

The other day I took a jaunt to the mall and shopped baby clothes for the kids at PHF. Found a great sale and bought a bunch of adorable little summer tops for girls and a few t-shirts for the boys. My mom also bought some much needed formula. Thanks to everyone who donated baby shampoo, formula, clothes, and other supplies for the kiddos! They will be appreciated!

2 Days! ...and a fun writing assignment

2009-07-14T10:23:00.000-07:00

A blog post just isn't complete without pictures so here's one of Mia from a couple years ago. Eating homemade ice cream. Yummo! :)

Assignment 3 in my writing course was a 500 word description of a place from your childhood. I had alot of fun with it. One of the most interesting places from my childhood was my Great Grandma's house. It was huge. Four stories, basement to attic, were filled with ancient trinkets, cobwebs, and alot of mystery and scariness for a little girl. What made the old house even more interesting was the fact that my grandma had lived there when she was little. And to top all that off, we lived with Great Grandma for a few months between homes. So I thought I'd share this one with you...it was too fun not to! :)

Grandma Jane's Front Room

Book tucked under my arm, I snuck through the front door of the vast living room. Pavarotti’s voice blared from the boom box. The mood of the droll opera seemed to match Great Grandma Jane’s antiquated front living room.

My steps scuffled up a familiar musty smell. How much dust could hide in that pumpkin orange carpet? Flopping on the lumpy green couch I swung my feet up, curling my toes around the chipped edge of the lime green table before me. Its round surface was worn by years of grandkids kneeling at it, munching stale cookies or candy, and staring at the TV. Encased in a carved wooden box, that television set was fascinating. Dials and knobs lined one side; perfect for pushing, turning, and screwing around with.

Behind me, Great Grandpa’s overstuffed chair still sat, even though the man was long gone. The couch with the curved semi-circle back stood to my right. I had once hurled myself into it and banged my head against the once polished wooden trim on top. The unused fireplace had always struck me as crude. In front of it stood a metal grate, and the side shelves and mantel were spooky with the wide-eyed owl collection staring at me.

My eyes meandered over the scene, trying to imagine the original inhabitants, our town’s first doctor and his family, reclining nearby, sipping tea, and enjoying pastimes. To the left of the fireplace a servant would be working the firewood elevator. A wooden box rigged with ropes could be lowered through the floor to the basement, loaded with wood, and hauled back up. An old fashioned wonder now covered in cobwebs.

Giving up my book, I sighed, and tipped my head back. The silky roughness of the textured material on the couch itched on my neck. I’d never really noticed the ceiling before. Dark wooden beams crisscrossed a pattern on a background of cream.

Something shuffled behind me and I turned to see Great Grandma. Pavarotti finished one everlasting note, and then she switched the CD player off. Turning, she saw me. It was hard to tell whether she honestly didn’t care, or was a little annoyed at me for being there.

“I thought you were all upstairs. You should turn off Pavarotti if you don’t like it.” She always seemed to think that her opera irritated us.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I just came down here to read,” I answered.

She shrugged a little, and shuffled back to her chair around the corner.

Taking advantage of the silence, I perched myself on the worn piano bench. The instrument was defiantly a grand piano in its day, and I strained to make it feel so again. I pounded on the smooth yellow ivories, crinkling my nose in the effort. The song drifted out, completely out of tune but recognizable.

Suddenly my stomach gurgled. The kitchen called. Tiptoeing, I collected my book and with one last look at the quaint front room, snuck back past the staircase with 17 orange stairs; through the study, containing a moldy collection of the Waverly Novels; through the old servants’ quarters; and into the kitchen.

Three!

2009-07-13T14:59:00.000-07:00

Five Days!

2009-07-11T15:18:00.000-07:00

Gone...forever

2009-07-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

Ok...so it's not gone forever, but watching a lady with scissors take the first snip at your hair, only leaving about two inches at the bottom of your neck is pretty frightening. In the end though...I like it!