siblingness

into every meal a little silliness must fall...

little hole-punch confetti things

we are obsessive recyclers at our house. it's been this way for most of my life. nothing gets thrown away that could potentially be ground up and washed by somebody to be turned into a shower curtain or box of tissues. there have been times i've thrown little slips of paper away, and my father (who has the reclamation radar) will come roaring downstairs to fish it out of the trash. he usually follows these diggings by saying: "hey, this can be recycled!" he then proceeds to tell us how they are now able to turn things like plastic yogurt containers into roads or donald trump skyscrapers or playground equipment--you know, simple things like that. we even recycle those little confetti things that remain after you use the hole punch--let's just say, those are a challenge to get to the recycling center!

which brings me to the piece de resistance of our lives as recyclers. yesterday we were at my dad's work for the tailings of a Christmas party. right outside the shop there is a Christmas tree recycling center where you drop off your tree after the holidays (very appropriate for my father, don't you think?). someone had already wrapped up their christmasing, and recycled their tree. little did they imagine what recycling that tree *actually* meant. i'm sure they thought it would be put in the wood chipper to be ground into a zillion pieces and become the mulch under somebody's bush. we had other plans for it's recycling....it is now sitting in our entryway with presents underneath to welcome with holiday cheer. and it smells lovely. once a recycler, now a recyclee.

what happened?

i apologize for the blog becoming "walkin-in-a-winter-wonderland" world. some cosmic something or other happened today that made me lose my look. (she looks down and notices she's actually become a different person in the last 24 hours as a result of the cosmic something or other....where the heck did that third arm come from! ahhhhh!)

ok, all of that was very weird i confess....

support your local atheist

(i guess you're reading this. so i keep my word.)

i met some fresh souls last evening (do you mind being called souls, or does this compromise the whole atheist/agnostic paradigm?). old and new friends of a sort: former Christian school peers turned atheists/agnostics. first i must thank you with all the candor in my heart for the lovely time--i enjoy chat, and you were just the right kinds of "boys" with which to have a lovely chat. (you must know i call you "boys" with all the kindest intentions.)

first i must say i appreciate your abstaining from trying to "convert" me. as i said, i'm learning everyday of my LORD's love for me. it is stunning. it is consuming. it is breath taking. (you may call it my opiate if you'd like) you may also call me an idealist as well. that i wouldn't even begin to argue with: "pseudo-science" tells me that.

second, i did enjoy the camaraderie in knowing that others are as strangely obsessed with the whole "revelation-of-self-by-figuring-out-if-i'm-a-T-or-an-F" thing. it's always mind-altering when i meet others of strong personality. (i abhor self-ignorance) it's all part of the path. it all makes me appreciate them and me more. i am amazed daily. yes, another very "idealist" thing to do. (meanwhile she reality checks what she just said....so many dragons, so little time.)

finally (and oddly enough most refreshing), i was reminded of how much GOD doesn't make sense. how i can't possibly fathom what He has done, what He is doing, or why--and in this very singular thing i find the most JOY. i can't figure GOD out rationally. i can't say He is "orderly" (in an academic post-enlightenment sort of way). i can't count Him, or fashion a box big enough for Him to dwell in. i can't only talk of one experience in my own "meta-narrative." i can't give you a linear timeline of how i came to have faith in such a GOD as this (linear is over rated anyway in my opinion). this all may seem weak-minded and slow-witted, but these are the pressures in my soul that you inflicted last night for which i am most indebted. the small deaths that brought the phoenix from the ashes once again to "godfather" watching, christmas shopping, hanukkah celebrating, and a thousand other tiny magical moments.

(if you doubted the idealist before: doubt not.)

when nothing seems to be happening....

we were baking bread tonite and i ran across this article in the recent world magazine. i am stunned at how there are answers when there are no questions: just an ache in the soul.

well, i never...

i have, as of yet, avoided most contact with anyone from my high school graduating class since i graduated in 1993. it's not that i particularly dislike anyone that i graduated with, but frankly i saw no need to go back and relive any of the unpleasant moments of my high school career with people i have no connection to and no particular interest in (yes, this does make me sound terribly hateful and uncaring). high school is one of those times when you don't know who you are, and so you try to be so many different things that you end up confusing yourself and others. it is also a time when you aren't mature enough to know that these people's opinions of you don't matter, and will have no bearing on the rest of your life. tonite, for the first time in twelve years, i will be attending my high school's homecoming game (read cries of agony and a smidge of smugness). my sister is now in highschool, and so these things are *much* more important than they've been in the last twelve years. i am anticipating a smudged vision of 1992.

true tragedy

"the great TRAGEDY of life is not unanswered prayer, but unoffered
prayer."

f. b. meyer

solitary

we have had some interesting weather the last few days here, and so i haven't been able to stay at my house (little cabin in the icy-limb-fallen-no electricity-no water woods). this all during the final days of the semester. i must admit i'm a little selfish with my solitary time now that i am flying solo at home, and i haven't had a whole lot of this all important-mind calming-soul soothing alone time. i was looking forward to my final days in (i still haven't christened it with an official name) my happy barn, but the weather pushed me towards dear friends who were willing to house and help me for a few nights (for this i am eternally grateful). now i'm off to home where i will joy with family and friends, but without the quiet calm before the mild holiday storm. hopefully my umbrella will still work...

sans stairs

“the Old Man of the Earth stooped over the floor of the cave, raised a huge stone, and left it leaning. it disclosed a great hole that went plumb-down. ‘that is the way,’ he said. ‘but there are no stairs. you must throw yourself in. there is no other way.’”

george macdonald

“i shall be telling you all the time”

after a week that i decided i was mad at the LORD, and told Him so; after i told Him i wouldn’t be speaking to Him for a while because i was a little irritated; after i decided i would go ahead and read my Bible, but *still* not speak to Him; after all this, i decided to break the silence. sounds very unspiritual of me, but in the silence i was struck with how much the LORD loves me. it’s not about my love for Him at all! it’s not about what i can do to earn His love and favor. Christ already earned that for me. i am overwhelmed by the thought! He died so i can be saved. He died so i can carefreely live this life. He died so He can show His power and glory and great compassion through daily provision of needs and desires. so why do i think GOD won’t give me great things? when we talk of our expectations of the LORD we think too small. we don’t think of great expectations. we think of the possible not the impossible. GOD wants to give me abundantly above the possible! He wants to give me magic....yes, magic! when i’m praying i find myself asking for what is “best,” rather i should be asking for what is “unfathomable.” i’ve limited my view of what the LORD wants to do for me. it’s not that my expectations of GOD are too great. it’s that my view of GOD is too small. it’s not that i’ve gone too far. i haven’t gone far enough. GOD is not a bubble gum machine where if i put my 10 cent faith in i’ll get a blue one (even if i wanted a green one). GOD is willie wonka trying to create the perfect candy (because maybe i don’t want bubble gum!) after an exhilarating ride on a river of the finest chocolate. tailor made. handcrafted. commissioned. magic! this is what Christ was asking when He prayed: “Father take this cup from me....not my will, but your will be done.” He abandoned Himself in the unfathomable of His Father: in one act to save the entire world from the power of sin to lives brimming with the unfathomable. so i’m demanding the fulfillment of this promise. He wants me to. it makes the mundane, magical. meanwhile i find myself chewing on the sick-sweet blue bubble gum of small, man-minded contentment.

anti-faith

not how i feel.
not what i over think.
not what i’m worried about.
not waiting for something clearer.

what's been revealed.

fearful symetry

1. one of my male students walked into the girls bathroom while i was chatting with him, and neither he nor i noticed. i let him go in (without thinking) and a few moments later he came out with a shamed look on his face as if i had forced him into it. i was laughing so hard i fell to the floor.

2. a friend's new boyfriend told me he always thot i was a "joneser" (some of you know what i mean) until he met me. no one has ever told me that before. usually it's quite the opposite.....

3. i made up a poem for the empty spinach container in the dining common. this man i've never seen in my life smiled and told me he "just considered the source." what do you know about me that my friend's boyfriend doesn't?

4. my friend sarah and i decided we would wish those at the departmental Christmas party last nite "happy hanukkah" just to see the look on their faces....i don't think they bought it. what they didn't notice was the dreidel spinning and money exchanging later...

5. departmental Christmas parties are not very much fun unless someone says something wildly inappropriate. it gives you something to talk about later. unfortunately, there is nothing to talk about later...

6. yes, i have walked into the men's bathroom before, and when i noticed the strange looking water fountains on the walls i knew i was in the wrong place.

desperate

"give your entire attention to what GOD is doing right now, and don'’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. GOD will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes."

matthew 6

tomorrow et al

well, it went...

all of the PhD canidates are grandmothers.
they were quite nice.

i have much to think on.
i have much to do.
i have to get a 1000 on my GRE.

ug.

tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow

going to check out university of georgia tomorrow. i am abso-smurfin-lutely terrified! pray, pray, pray...

i think a lot of prayers will be answered tomorrow.

right now i have no desire to go forward with this whole thing...hopefully something will click.

into the wardrobe

after a few years of preparation, i finally did it! i put a christmas tree in my wardrobe and decorated it with my meager narnian ornaments (snow, father christmas, aslan, lucy's horn, white stag, and little fur coats--my collection needs a little help). i've been dreaming of doing it for a long time, and this is the year! i'm a little embarrassed to admit that i bought the wardrobe with the christmas tree in mind. i made the excuse that i "needed" it for my clothes, (which would *never* work!) all the while deviously concocting my plan for the tree in the wardrobe event. and now the event has come, and will continue growing every year. this is no ploy because of the upcoming movie--trust me (if you know me, i abhor the idea of copying some movie just because "everyone is doing it." pearls before swine i tell you!).

i think lucy would be truly pleased.....

delighting

i've been taking it back all day today. i just realized i'm not delighting in the LORD, and hence my desires aren't right. when i was delighting, my desires were His desires.

back to delighting.

holidaying

my parental units and sibling unit are coming for a holiday reverie. we will spend the week together at "underhill" enjoying the taste of thanksgiving and the woods. my father is bringing a television because i have yet to purchase one. don't misread this and think i have a dislike for the pulsating light in the box--oh, no...i have an undying passion for the thing! i do, however, think a vaccuum cleaner should be my first purchase. i get the sense that cleanliness is more important than an increased number of entertainment options. so, the televison will be arriving tomorrow evening along with my family (sans my brother--he's spending the holiday in indonesia doing dental work). chaos will likely ensue in my little one person abode, but what's more fun than chaos with family?

swimming

last nite instead of telling the LORD i wanted back in the boat, i begged the LORD to not force me back in the boat. faith rather than fear.

what not to wear

i have an appointment to meet with the head of the theater and film department and other phd faculty at georgia state university on december 2. this is a step i need to take. it's another "wet feet" moment for me.

but the real question is: what do i wear?

speechless

you know the sign i asked for?
i got it.

there is nothing else to say.

glory, glory, glory....

scraps

monday morning in chapel was mind blowing. i asked for something specific, and has been the pattern, here it is:

isaiah 7 was my crumb. GOD’s children and their king ahaz are afraid. they are afraid because they have been told their enemy is coming to attack them. “and his heart was moved, and the heart of his people, as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind.” they are terrorized to the core. GOD tells them: “take heed, and be quiet; fear not, neither be fainthearted...it shall not stand, neither shall it come to pass.” so He gives them hope. when He’s finished, He reminds them: “if you will not believe, surely ye shall not be established.” or in another translation: “if you don’t take your stand in faith, you won’t have a leg to stand on!” ok, so faith is the most important thing again. but this is not where it ends. GOD then tells ahaz to “ask for a sign from your GOD. ask anything. be extravagant. ask for the moon!” so what does he do when given his chance? “i’d never do that, i’d never make demands like that on GOD!” sounds spiritual right? like a guy who is willing to “give in” to the LORD? but how does GOD respond? “it’s bad enough that you make people tired with your pious, timid hypocrisies, but now you’re making GOD tired!" GOD is *not* happy. He told ahaz to ask for anything, and ahaz flaked! he flaked by trying to be spiritual. what GOD really wanted from him was unashamed, unfettered, abandoned faith....so, i asked GOD for a sign. was this crazy, or the abandoned faith GOD desires for me? i don’t know, but i did it. and now i have to wait...

today's promise

look among the nations! observe!
be astonished! wonder!
because I am doing something in your days--
you would not believe if you were told.

habakkuk 1:5

i done been tagged

A Time To Laugh tagged me!! The rules are:

1. Search your blog archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (this is meant to say something about you).
4. Post that sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five people to do the same.

and the answer is...

"no one came in."

(he, he...i think i like this)

well, i don't know five people, so here are my token two:

christy
cheryl

answers

so, i got some answers, and i feel like i'm being scraped up off the floor:
the first is that satan definitely attacked me on friday nite. he is a deceiver and a liar. and i believed his tricks. all i could think on friday was: "do you honestly think GOD is going to answer your prayers? He is only going to make a fool of you. you are going to look and feel so stupid when all of this comes crashing down on you. you've jumped in the water erin, and it's teeming with sharks." i even told the LORD that i wanted to take it all back. that i didn't want Him to answer my prayers, and i'd just like to get back in the boat where it was safe thank you very much...at the time i didn't even think that it was an attack. i questioned everything GOD had shown me the last few days. i doubted.

so i'm a bit beaten up and bruised, but i am rejoicing in my Father's mercy.

the LORD doesn't want to destroy me. He isn't trying to make a fool of me. He wants me out of that stinky, fish smelling boat. He wants me in the water. He wants me to walk. He wants me to stop looking at the boat of safety. He wants me to stop looking at the crashing waves of despair. He wants me to look at Him. He wants me to expect great things.

"my soul, wait thou only upon GOD, for my expectation is from Him."

unruly waters

i asked the LORD if i could step out of the boat. He said "come." i walked on the roaring waters just a few minutes, and now i'm transfixed by the waves. have i done the wrong thing by asking? have i asked the LORD too much?

i sank on friday evening. i am still sinking.

i am afraid.

"o thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"

on my way to church right now, and i am begging the LORD to show me some clear answer.

christy dear.

here is the message of hope for you.

beg dearest. beg.

“who said anything about safe? ‘course he isn’t safe. but he’s good.”

“sometimes to one praying will come the feeling...’were it not better to abstain? if this thing be good, will He not give it me? would He not be better pleased if i left it altogether to Him?’ it comes, i think, of a lack of faith and childlikeness...it may even come of ambition after spiritual distinction.” george macdonald

this is exactly where i wallow! i don’t want to be “unspiritual” so i don’t pray specifically for my desires (my newest, favoritest word!), but rather i pray: “LORD, whatever you want.” (that is, after all, so much more spiritual a prayer!) am i saying it’s wrong to pray “Thy will be done?” not at all! i think we’re supposed to do that as well, but we miss out on so many presents by thinking if only we pray generally we won’t “get our feelings hurt.” praying specifically is so incredibly unsafe! frightening. frightening because i have to give up--abandon myself to GOD. i have to trust my Father implicitly. i have to stop trying to fill in the blanks where i foolishly think GOD has forgotten something.

if this is unsafe, may i live dangerously on the edge of prayer!

breadcrumbs

something really big just happened in my brain:

“what things you desire (crave), when you pray, believe that you receive them, and you shall have them.”

ok, this is really tough for me. i worry that my desires are not of GOD: that i will ask amiss. ok, so....psalms 37:4:

“delight thyself in the LORD, and he shall give you the desires of your heart.”

right, we all know this verse....so, if i delight in the LORD, He will fulfill *my* desires. He will give me what i want? right? WRONG! if i delight in the LORD, *He* will fill me with the right desires. then He will prompt me to pray for them. ok, the next verse ties it all up so beautifully:

“commit thy way unto the LORD, trust also in Him, and He will bring it to pass.”

WOO HOO! He will bring it to pass. He will answer my prayers. He will give me what *He* wants. He will give me my desires because they are of Him. i *cannot* ask amiss.

i am not afraid anymore.

nor am i safe anymore.

that is a delight!

(read erin jumping up and down in her soul gathering the breadcrumbs off the floor!)

my purple bicycle

i remember when i was maybe 12 (mom, correct me if i'm wrong) i wanted a bicycle for my birthday. now, i was afraid of everything, and riding a bike did not come to me as early and easily as it comes to most, so i was old enough to really want a bicycle. i remember when i found the one i wanted: it was white with purple handles, purple sticker things on the bars, a purple seat, and a great zipper bag on the front (to hold your lip gloss and transformers of course!). the whole thing had a geometric motif--very 80's of me. this was the bike i wanted! so, like any good girl, this was the bike i asked for. i have to admit, i really didn't believe i'd get that bike. we're talking no hope here--i *knew* i wasn't getting it. it was kind of pricey, and a bit frivolous for our family at the time. i'll never forget the moment my father rolled *that* bike around the side of the house. never. i don't think i've ever been given any gift that moved me like this one. i remember the hot tears in my eyes being held back only by the shame i felt for crying over a bicycle. the tears weren't really about the bicycle, but about the act of the gift. my parents were elated at givng me *exactly* what i asked for, and elated at seeing my response. the bicycle is long gone, but a picture of me still remains taken a few moments after the gift was revealed. if you look close enough, you can see the lingering tears. you can also see the look of shy joy mingled with the tears. it's still one of my favorite childhood photographs.

ok, you're thinking: "great story erin!" the LORD brought this incident to my mind a few days ago for very specific reason: i have a real problem with asking the LORD for things. we're talking anything here: needs, wants and wishes. but like a good Dad, He's not letting this one go. i am afraid to ask because i am afraid to get my hopes up. then maybe the LORD won't answer, and then i'll just be disappointed. i've trained myself with the LORD, like i have with my friends not to have any expectations. "people will just disappoint you right? and so, i guess, will the LORD." i don't think i'd realized how destructive this attitude has become! i've let the few "bad" experiences i've had with people who call themselves "friends" (none of you included--trust me!) ruin my perception of my Heavenly Father to the point where i'm afraid to ask for anything that seems remotely frivolous. i only pray: "LORD, whatever you want!" one night at church danny brooks said, "we get nothing great from GOD because we ask for nothing great." well, i'm asking for some great things! things i'm almost ashamed to say i want. i've never stepped out in faith like this before, and i know this is only the beginning. it's almost scarry to think what the LORD will do. the answers probably won't be what i expect, but will be exactly what i need.

so, back to the bicycle:
i'm asking for my FAITH to be increased.
i'm asking for *a* bicycle.
i'm asking for *that* purple bicycle.

and i am begging.

i believe there will be much to come.

doubting thomas

desires are cravings

thinking in process.

i've been working through something the past couple of days in my head. the kind of thing that sends me into spirals of darkness and unrest at the shortest of notice. this is not uncommon for me, so no alarm please. my mother tells me i think in spirals and webs. she even claims i do this funny thing with my eyes and mouth (this is how she proports to know this information). i think she's right. there are not many moments where i'm not connecting *this* particular moment and its events to some moment from my irretrievable past (the mere thought that the past is irretrievable gives my life a sense of traditional tragedy in some weird academic way--ahh! i'm doing it again: connecting everything! i lectured on tragic irretrievability today). note: i think most people do this in some form or another.

so this thing i've been working through in my head (i keep accidently typing "heart" instead of "head"--hmmmm...) comes upon me at 5:00 in the morning when i'm trying to sleep. hence the intake of breath and groan as i awaken to see my moon and star nightlight mocking me to get up. but here is the truly providential thing that happened in one of my classes yesterday:

my students are teaching lessons, and i had a girl yesterday teach a ladies Bible study lesson (the only women's ministries major in a sea of elementary education majors). she passed out these little slips of paper that said: "i __ because i don't believe GOD ___." we had to fill in the blanks with something we struggle with. so i put: "i FEAR because i don't believe GOD is big enough to have a plan for my life (let alone consult me, tell me, or warn me in advance when it's coming)." ok, WOW! she made me put into words the little fox thoughts that are spoiling my vine.

this little thing really got me. i know it seems obvious to the rest of you, but writing it down was powerful let me tell you. not to say that i didn't wake up this morning to the cheshire grin of the moon and star on the night light (which i will not be angry at by the way) with a sharp intake of breath at the mere thought of what's ahead....

but i am still working on this in my head.

state of the erin

i've moved.
vespers is over.
i don't have wireless anymore.
(hence, my blog will be neglected more often)
my house is a mess.
i am living in a "storybook" (as one dear called it).
i need a broom (to sweep with, not to fly on--i know what you were thinking!).

i am so terribly content.
much praise.

there is nothing worth more than this day
gothe

for those who care

vespers went loverly this evening: i can wipe the rivulets of sweat off my brow.

as soon as the program was over, i turned around to dr. lawson (the dean of fine arts) and whooped my "woo hoo!"

he just laughed.

underhill...

upon the hearth the fire is red,
beneath the roof there is a bed,
but not yet weary are our feet,
still round the corner we may meet:
a sudden tree or standing stone
that none have seen but we alone.

still round the corner there may wait
a new road or a secret gate
and though we pass them by today
tomorrow we may come this way
and take the hidden paths that run
towards the moon or to the sun.

home is behind, the world ahead
and there are many paths to tread
through shadows to the edge of night
until the stars are all alight.
then world behind and home ahead
we'll wander back to home and bed.

tolkien

the move is on...

wicked little labels

one of my students told me the other day that i am cool. i thot i'd already made it abundantly clear that i am not cool. i told him to trust me on this one: had he seen me willy-nilly kicking in bathroom stalls in a skirt prentending to be in the FBI with my two handed gun screaching "i caught you with your pants down" the other evening, he would have believed me. or had he known that i spelled "star trek"--"star treck"--he *really* would have known. these are not the activities of "the cool."

but quite liberating they are.

yes.

infinite small

despair is a very small place.
as is hope.

mantra

the LORD is nigh unto all them that call upon Him,
to all that call upon Him in truth.

He will fulfill the desires of them that fear Him:
He also will hear their cry, and will save them.

psalm 145:18-19

oracle of delphi

be wary of fresh faced admirerers.
green rain shoes make your feet hurt.
rain in greenville is fat.
the band is loud--very loud.
chicken salad is much better with bacon.
everything is much better with bacon.
just cuz you tell them *not* to put cheese on it, means they will.
running out of minutes before the month is up makes things difficult.
*always* have the serial number on hand or you will get no help.
some fridays feel like wednesdays.
unlikely narnians do exist.
when you kick a door open, don't wear a skirt.

wake

chicken broccoli casserole
cheese
brownies and pound cake
chocolate peanut butter energy bars

salt...

is this what grief tastes like?

flight 3537

you meet many interesting souls when you talk to people as you travel. i hate to admit i usually just get on the plane and mind my own business. this time i decided to go about this a little differently: i decided to participate....

as i neared my seat on the flight to dallas, i noticed the young man who would be next to me. he looked interesting, and i had an intense desire to chat with him even before i sat down. he was soft spoken and intelligent: you can see that in someone’s eyes if you look close enough. graciously he was extroverted enough to engage me in conversation first. (my introverted self is in a constant battle with my extroverted self to figure out how to begin a conversation. some people i know are good at it: they just begin. i cannot “just begin." that probably seems unnecessarily complicated to you e’s.) he is a student at oxford getting a degree in politics. we talked about education, lighting, morroco, sushi and “our town.” his parents are from nigeria, and he’s trying to figure out what to do with his life after oxford. he says it’s just a stepping stone to bigger things. i made him laugh. i think that suprised him.

in dallas on my way back my flight was delayed, and i had to sit in the airport for 4 hours. janice had been there as long as i, and she wanted to tell me about the house she and her son built in dallas. yes, there were even pictures. she was in a wheelchair, and needed a little assistance with her stuff, a trip to the bathroom, and a venti caramel macchiato. we laughed and raced up and down the terminal.

you know it’s funny--the LORD created such varried souls. each is needy in a different way. my oxford cowboy seemed anything but needy: his legs worked, he was young, strong of body and of mind, and yet there was a struggle in his soul to figure out if he should go to class, where he fit in his family, his culture, the universe. janice was clearly needy: she was forced to rely on her metal and vinyl home, she was cold with no way to get herself a blanket or cup of coffee, she just wanted to get home where it was easier for her to get about. the beauty is that GOD desiged each detail of their walk. nothing went unchecked, unplanned, or unaided. i hope i helped them take the next step.....with joy.

moment interrupted

my gran died yesterday. i don't really know what to say about it. i keep acting like everything is fine...i doesn't feel fine.
gran lived with us for a few years, and it wasn't easy. i know i loved my grandmother, but i can't really say that i liked her all that much. i don't think i ever really understood her. she had a hard life: her father was imprisoned, she had to work from a young age, she never finished school, she and her family were the pariahs in their little texas town, her husband died when her children were quite young, she had to wash other people's clothes for years. their dirt became pennies in her pocket. her life was all about dirt: her's and everyone else's. all of this stuff is so foreign to my simple, charmed life. i've never known the heartache of the loss she experienced.

about a month ago on my 30th birthday she sent me a card with a note and some money. she always sent money. never forgot even one of my birthdays. in her note, she apologized to me for things she had done to hurt me while she had lived with us, and before. it was touching. it was genuine. it was unexpected. so, i wrote her a note to let her know how much i loved her, that i forgave her, and that i wanted to see her in heaven someday. we tried so many times to give her the gospel, and we just didn't know if she ever understood it...

i never sent it.
it's still sitting on my dresser with a stupid little smiley face on it to mock me.
i never sent it.
she doesn't even know i forgave her. i couldn't even give her that one last pleasure. she had such an awful life, and she never even knew i forgave her. i wanted to give her the gospel one last time, and tell her i forgave her.
i never sent it.

you know in the play "our town" how emily realizes all the things she didn't notice while she was alive? how she missed out living every moment? "do humans ever realize life while they live it? every, every minute?" i love this play. i yell it from the rooftops. i shout it everywhere i go. you know what: i failed. i failed when it mattered most! i couldn't even do the big thing. the easy thing.

this is where i am:
i will go to her funeral.
i will mourn with everyone there.
i will grieve.
i will grieve my loss.
i will grieve her's.

but right now i have to do my laundry (this is hope).

of a monday eve

i did my favorite thing ever last nite...

i came home at 6:30, and crawled into bed in my school clothes. yes, i was completely clothed under my covers--a truly lovely sensation let me tell you. it feels utterly lazy and frivolous-like your mother is going to come into your room (when you're 7) and say "erin, what are you doing! get up and change your clothes!" no one came in. no one told me to change my clothes. no one noticed. i vacationed for two hours.

lovely, lovely laziness.

a bit more on the box of bubbly bars

“This may be the grand task of our life: to be the unique person you were meant to be.” —Albert Rossi

autumnal reveries

today is the first day of autumn: oh what soul bliss in the air!
thought i'd include a list of my favorite autumnal items:

● the smell of pumpkin scented candles from target
● the color orange can be bought with money
● the satisfying sound of popping acorns underfoot
● i can finally see the wind
● shivering mornings
● warm afternoons
● stuffed baked apples
● apple cider
● the rush of sleeping leaves
● the crinkley sound of folks wearing jackets
● getting to use the word "autumn" rather than "fall" when wishing one good will

joy, joy to autumn...

swab the deck me mateys...argh!

today is international talk like a pirate day:

watch for scurvy all ye land lubbing bilge rats...

lookin for the lasses

this goes out to all my single friends (sounds like i'm going to request a song for you all). i know we are all interested in finding that perfect man, so i would like to present you with an option. no, eharmony it is not, but i think it's a close second. we've all dreamed of living in europe with some exotic man (i have to say a uk man would probably be *my* first choice if he was to be european), and i'm almost positive this is our best means of getting him. the "lads" featured on this website live in the small town of alston-moor, and their village is in crisis. yes, ladies you heard it: a genuine homegrown crisis. they are in need of women. apparently, the ratio of men to women is 10:1. does this not sound like a paradise for attractive, intelligent women such as we? here are a few tidbits about the lads in the lovely alston-moor:

1. jonny edgar: "looking for a lass that likes fast cars, fast bikes and fast men like me."
2. butch: "now then, i'm butch and i'm a trucker in fact i'm not just A trucker I am THE trucker. "
3. ben: "i'm a plumber so i have good prospects as well. "
4. patch: "i'm training to be a hairdresser so can offer all you ladies free hair styling and beauty advice."
5. martin: " i have my own car!"

and my favorite...

6. george: "i'm looking for a woman who's a good cook and who doesn't mind a bit of hard work round the house like cutting logs and gardening."

now everybody don't try to go at once. there are plenty of men to go around...

(one word of caution: if you look at the pictures of the town, you could very genuinely be tempted.)

vanity, vanity

i would rather get a typhoid shot than shop for a new swim suit. yesterday i started swimming again with a friend after a 4 month hiatus. my "pool" suit had been sleeping in the bottom of the laundry basket for the duration of that time waiting to be pulled out for use. so, yesterday i packed it up with my towel and other swimming ephemera (with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head) so that i wouldn't have to come home after work to retrieve it (gas prices being what they are). when i went to put the suit on, it felt a little loose. i know i haven't lost that much weight during my summer hours of inactivity! (ah, how beautiful they were) when i got into the pool, i realized it wasn't my shrinking body that was causing the problem, but my ever expanding suit. whatever spandex that was in the suit is now swimming with the fishes. miraculously it made it through one swim, and was quickly tossed into the trash. hence, the desire for a typhoid shot. i've decided only 6ft 9in sports illustrated girls look good in a swim suit. they are terribly unflattering, and the "athletic" suits are even less so. heaven forbid you look well porportioned when you swim laps! (my vanity speaks) they are either too short in the torso, or too wide across, so i get to choose between being drawn and quartered or over exposed. neither is a good look for me.
so, i paid way too much for a swimming suit that will only be worn when swimming laps, and will lose its ability to "spandex" in a matter of a few short months.
ah, the high price of beauty...

clara barton

my mother says i'm running the red cross.
she tells me i have to stop trying to fix everyone.
she's right, but i don't know how to stop...

"You must never so much as think whether you like it or not, whether it is bearable or not; you must never think of anything except the need, and how to meet it."

ladies who lunch

lunched with some student/friends the other day, and i was tangibly reminded again why i do this. why i get up at the crack of dawn for a pay check that is hardly legal in any state, and still am amazed that someone pays me to do this everyday. there are so many wonderful souls that you get to touch when you teach. students whose brains are filled with ideas and questions: some i'm still asking.

they keep me sharp. they keep me digging in the dirt. they keep me inspired. they keep me from taking my life too seriously. i revel in the mental challenge of academia. i love the search for new ideas and interpretations. i relish the wide open spaces of creativity.

but it's the individual souls that wake me up every morning.

sunday salve

a little water for my weary soul this evening at church...

Some times I feel discouraged,
And think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit
Revives my soul again.

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin sick soul.

curiouser and curiouser

yes. he may *look* innocent...




that is his charm.

zaza tigress princess of the underworld

"are you kidding?
talk to the tail stupid..."

kat

chalk bored

someone gave me a box of chalk today. this *cannot* be resisted...so, i went about with my piece of alabaster joy to write secret greetings on the sidewalk. it was to be covert. i wrote a few greetings here and about. i was *not* caught. i passed out a few pieces to other hack journalistic souls. they were told to write something memorable, and to keep the secret....

i will venture forth tomorrow with deeds of great daring.

"be well"

....

you know what i love?

punctuation...

they've even numbered lunch

today my sister said: "now lunch has a number. lunch has never had a number!" all of this was in the context of a conversation about the way her school day is divided. i find it very strange that she begins the school day at 7:30. mind you, she is not a college student! no, she is simply a sophomore in high school, and her day starts out with drama at the ungodly hour of 7:30 am! when these shenanigans first began this alleged 7:30 class was called "zero hour." ok, what is zero hour? it exists right? you have to show up to class? this is *not* optional. so, why do they call it "zero hour"? so they've started numbering every single little bite of the day, including lunch (it's number 8 according to her schizo schedule), but the piece de resistance is this: they've even numbered *after* school. yes, they now have quantified that time after school that's supposed to belong only to you...

it's number 12.

i still can't believe they numbered lunch...

have a beautiful first day frey joy....

A Crawling Time (ACT)

as one of my "extra-beginning-of-the-year-we-want-to-make-you-terribly-miserable" duties i had to proctor the ACT test today. if you must know, i'm not particularly good at following detailed rules, so the idea of spending four and a half hours making sure a group of 18 year old college freshman have the TI-83 plus calculator rather than the TI-83 super-super plus calculator does not sound like the stuff of a relaxing saturday afternoon. had i been able to do something other than watch number 2 pencils fill in little mind numbing ovals, the time would not have been entirely wasted, but as it was the time was *nearly* wasted. my only entertainment was in deciphering which one of these students i was when i was a frightened 18 year old newbie. there is no way i was one of the numerous box blondes in their cutesy little pink sweatshirts. nor was i the spike-bracelet social misfit in the second row with the migrane and beautiful smile (she was my favorite in the room however). how about the honest faced girl in the back row with the hoop earrings and flipped up brown hair--no, too cute-cute. i was definitely not cute-cute. more like laura ingalls wilder meets joan of arc.

so after all the searching--no luck. hate to be anti-climactic, but i wasn't there.

my musings of a crawling time at the ACT.

like a weaned child rests

in the service tonite i couldn't breathe. i think i was on the verge of a panic attack. i looked down to my Bible, and saw this passage:

psalm 131
1. O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; nor do i involve myself in great matters, or things too difficult for me.
2. surely i have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me.
3. O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forever.

i rested....

first foolishness

today was the first day. the first day they walked into my classroom. i've already made a fool of myself. instead of saying "lady audley's secret" (or some such nonsense) i said "lady chatterly's lover." once it came out, i couldn't stop myself. that was followed by: "oh dear, i think that is some wildly inappropriate french novel!" (it's not even french-i should know that right?) some looked shocked, others blank, some tittered nervously, i blushed. i still couldn't stop: "i can't believe i just referenced a wildly inappropriate french novel." yes, i used the words "wildly inappropriate french novel" once again. then just to make it clearer in all their fresh minds (notice i said FRESH, not FRENCH) i said: "that's almost as bad as referencing madame bovary." (that really is a wildly inappropriate french novel) a few more faces lit up. if they hadn't known what i was talking about before, i had just made it perfectly clear. i blushed once again (just to make sure it matched the exact shade of red in my hair). i then said the inane: "i think i'd better stop now." "yes," they were all thinking, "yes you really should..."

the bell rang.

i was elated.

later i was told that one of my students said my class was "lively."

i hope it goes better tomorrow...

anyday moon

for the dreamers:

you can put in a date and see what the moon looked like that day

happy happy moon.

turned...

i'm officially 30--as of about 8:30 something central standard time....

a few sublime birthday facts:

1. martin luther king, jr., tells more than 200,000 people he has a dream in 1963
2. in 1996 after four years of separation, charles and his wife, princess diana, formally divorce
3. johann wolfgang von goethe, germany's greatest poet and dramatist, was born (1749-1832)
4. in 1988 actor jason robards is awarded an emmy for his performance in the miniseries inherit the wind
5. most importantly, my aunt awoke out of an almost 2 month long coma in 1975 on the same day i arrived

another o'er

standing on a box of bubbly bars

recently been chatting with friends about those that feel the need to let everyone know how "different" they are, and how much they like you because they think you are "cool." let it be known: i am not cool, i have never been cool, i do not want to be cool. the same people who think you are this wonderful thing are the same people who are striving intensely to be "different." many times to the detriment of their own identity.

this makes me sick. here is why:

i hold the firm belief that *everyone* is different/unique. simple right? no! so many people think they are alone in the world being unique. i always want to ask: "what makes you so special?" but instead i *should* ask: "what makes you the only one who is special?" where do we get this notion that everyone (but me and my few closest friends--of course) is walking in lock step?

i embrace the fact that i am unique. it is the biggest banner i wave. frankly though, sometime this uniqueness is pretty mundane: i like hot dogs, the color green, getting birthday cards in the mail, and driving my honda civic. there are millions of other people in the world that like and do these same things! but herein lies my uniqueness: there are *not* millions of other people who like these things in this exact same sequence, combination and level of intensity. i like the smell of dirt--ok, no i love the smell of dirt--ok, no again, i love things that smell and taste like dirt. yes, i know this is strange, but this is not just something i think i kind of like, this is bound up in the woof and weave of my very soul! it is something that defines me. it is my God given gift. yes, i really do see it this way!

i am stunned every day at the menagerie of souls i encounter. each individually created by a God who revels in uniqueness--a God that created this beautiful universe full of things as different as my armpit and a black hot star (if those things aren't unique i don't know what is!). the beauty of my armpit (i wanted to say that:) is that it's just being an armpit. it's not trying to be the sun (and for this i am grateful). this is a weird analogy i know, but bear with me here. the people i admire most are not those people that think i'm "cool." the ones who are putting all their energy into being "different." i admire those that are going about being armpits--they're genuine. they are putting all their passion into being just what they are. they aren't fretting about the search for themselves--they may be on the scavenger hunt (like so many are), but they're taking it one moment's experience at a time. they're being unique without trying...

this is the most unusual thing you can do.

turning....

i just discovered i share a birthday with jason priestly

visions of 90210 danced in her head...

turning....

"thirty was so strange for me. i've really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult."

c. s. lewis

ok, so

ok, so there is something really surreal about the beginning of a new semester. i always feel like everyone else knows what's going on except me. like i'm the sound reel on a movie that is just one tiny second behind the picture. possibly the dubbed in english on a bruce lee film. remember those? all this trying to catch up mentally might be fruitless. usually nothing changes in a bruce lee film.

ok, so usually i do catch up....eventually.

ok, so have you ever had a conversation with someone you know has a problem with drinking. you've been told things are this way, so you're not just guessing about this here. so, you're talking to this person on the phone or in person, and you're trying to figure out if they're having one of their "not so good moments." you're reacting like normal (you are after all givng it your best), but you're trying to figure out if they've figured out that you're trying to figure out if they're ok.

ok, so i think i'm obsessed with the radio. not music, but the spoken word. that crackly, tin can, AM sounding voice. the one that reminds you of being 7 and a half in the dewey green grass on a early fall evening with the late summer lightning bug lights of the park on the hill glowing the way.

ok, so when you have no tv, you revert to 7 and a half, feeling one tiny second behind, and you miss bruce lee...