I am very much alive and still a functioning human being.
I have not been blogging, preferring to use commenting on other people's blogs as a method of expressing myself.
However, I did recently submit and article for Homeschoolers Anonymous for one of their series.
I have joined their cause whole-heartedly, having been homechooled through high school in many states and a different country. They are the voice of awareness and reason. For FAR too many years only the positives (which have not all been true) have been allowed to be expressed about homeschooling. The fear of being taken away by CPS and the idea that homeschooling was not a viable educational alternative made people circle the wagons and aim all guns outward.
However, this isolation and "us vs. them" ideology that was drilled into many homeschooled children (now adults) sometimes did more harm than good. Even if it was only a small amount of harm and a large amount of good, there was harm done. In pursuit of "do no evil," homeschooled adults are now speaking up about their experiences in hopes that people will listen and think before making any of the mistakes that happened to them. If pain, suffering, educational neglect, and abuse can be prevented: we wish with all our heart to prevent it.
H.A. is not all negativity and readers are welcome to share positives in their upcoming series "A Week of Joy."
I will attempt to contribute, although writing out my thoughts has been more of a toll than I expected. I am spending more time playing free Cell than writing. It is like a mind trip to find positives and then not immediately jump into the "but anyway" that is dismissive and excuses all the pain and hurt. (learned that from therapy! Sharing a hurt and changing topics with "...but ANYWAY...." you are dismissing what you said previously and negating it. Fun fact)
AKA, even though there was bad, mentioning positives does not dismiss the good and does not outweigh the good making the bad inadmissible.
But there was a lot good. And I know that this good is what made me the good person that I am and cause my former co-workers to tell my mother repeatedly "You raised a wonderful girl" when I brought her around to work last year.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Thursday, August 08, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
A Work of Artifice
The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he
whittles back the branches
the gardener croons,
It is your nature
to be small and cozy,
domestic and weak;
how lucky, little tree,
to have a pot to grow in.
With living creatures
one must begin very early
to dwarf their growth:
the bound feet,
the crippled brain,
the hair in curlers,
the hands you
love to touch.
Marge Piercy
I have been silent for a long time.
I am thinking of posting occasionally on this blog as I feel able.
I write one article recently for Homeschoolers Anonymous.
Its not something I have EVER talked about, and most people in my life have no idea.
WE shall see what the future holds.
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he
whittles back the branches
the gardener croons,
It is your nature
to be small and cozy,
domestic and weak;
how lucky, little tree,
to have a pot to grow in.
With living creatures
one must begin very early
to dwarf their growth:
the bound feet,
the crippled brain,
the hair in curlers,
the hands you
love to touch.
Marge Piercy
I have been silent for a long time.
I am thinking of posting occasionally on this blog as I feel able.
I write one article recently for Homeschoolers Anonymous.
Its not something I have EVER talked about, and most people in my life have no idea.
WE shall see what the future holds.
Friday, September 10, 2010
6 years
This time of the year is always really, really hard for me.
Last year, I really got it out in this post.
I got a lot of flack for it, by people who think I should "move on" or "get over it."
I have a bit of a news flash for you. When something serious changes in your life, especially as a young child, it takes a lot of time and effort to process and work through.
Basically, for me at 14, it was like a death.
You don't just "bounce" back (yes, that is a movie quote). You CAN'T pretend like it didn't seriously wound your heart or change who you are as a person.
At this point, this year, I think I can claim to be much better. I spent my anniversary driving around old familiar places. My grandmother does not like the word, but I have my own personal definition.
I found closure.
Yes, I was deeply wounded.
They have changed me, made me who I am today.
And, I have accepted myself for who I am.
The wounds have scarred over, for the most part, and I have found a reason to keep my heart alive still. I have finally reached the point of accepting that I live here. That I will be in the United States for the rest of my life, except for occasional itching-feet-vacations.
Yeah, for those who did not know I have hated being here for years.
I am also moving on as far as blaming. I blamed a lot of people for what happened, and mostly myself. I was young and I felt that I could have changed things if only I was better, or done more, or tried harder....or something.
But it had nothing to do with me. Like a pawn in a chess game, I was at the mercy of everything else and could not do much.
I have stopped blaming myself.
When something happens that deeply affects you, it is part of your history. Part of your unique story. Part of your fingerprint. Hiding these things is like hiding an elephant with pink toenails in a cherry tree. People can tell it is there, but they do not have an explanation. Especially, with the people who care about you, hiding things or pretending is a bad idea, and could damage or completely ruin your relationship.
I have begun to talk about what I have been through.
Talking is a healthy thing. Most people are not mind readers.
Lastly, I have been allowing the possibility of forgiveness. Yes, very bad decisions lead to years of pain, dysfunction, and stupid crap. It caused way too much chaos in the lives of hundreds of people. Yes, hundreds!! Every person affects other people, who in turn affect others. No one can repair the damage without humility and sincere honesty. I cannot repent of anything that I have not done. But I can free the other person from the place of anger, resentment, and fear in which I have imprisoned them. They have been pushed far enough away that they cannot cause me pain. I free them to work before God with all their serious problems.
I let go.
And now I wait with open hands.
Last year, I really got it out in this post.
I got a lot of flack for it, by people who think I should "move on" or "get over it."
I have a bit of a news flash for you. When something serious changes in your life, especially as a young child, it takes a lot of time and effort to process and work through.
Basically, for me at 14, it was like a death.
You don't just "bounce" back (yes, that is a movie quote). You CAN'T pretend like it didn't seriously wound your heart or change who you are as a person.
At this point, this year, I think I can claim to be much better. I spent my anniversary driving around old familiar places. My grandmother does not like the word, but I have my own personal definition.
I found closure.
Yes, I was deeply wounded.
They have changed me, made me who I am today.
And, I have accepted myself for who I am.
The wounds have scarred over, for the most part, and I have found a reason to keep my heart alive still. I have finally reached the point of accepting that I live here. That I will be in the United States for the rest of my life, except for occasional itching-feet-vacations.
Yeah, for those who did not know I have hated being here for years.
I am also moving on as far as blaming. I blamed a lot of people for what happened, and mostly myself. I was young and I felt that I could have changed things if only I was better, or done more, or tried harder....or something.
But it had nothing to do with me. Like a pawn in a chess game, I was at the mercy of everything else and could not do much.
I have stopped blaming myself.
When something happens that deeply affects you, it is part of your history. Part of your unique story. Part of your fingerprint. Hiding these things is like hiding an elephant with pink toenails in a cherry tree. People can tell it is there, but they do not have an explanation. Especially, with the people who care about you, hiding things or pretending is a bad idea, and could damage or completely ruin your relationship.
I have begun to talk about what I have been through.
Talking is a healthy thing. Most people are not mind readers.
Lastly, I have been allowing the possibility of forgiveness. Yes, very bad decisions lead to years of pain, dysfunction, and stupid crap. It caused way too much chaos in the lives of hundreds of people. Yes, hundreds!! Every person affects other people, who in turn affect others. No one can repair the damage without humility and sincere honesty. I cannot repent of anything that I have not done. But I can free the other person from the place of anger, resentment, and fear in which I have imprisoned them. They have been pushed far enough away that they cannot cause me pain. I free them to work before God with all their serious problems.
I let go.
And now I wait with open hands.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
YES, this blog is dying
I have moved on in the real world as well as in the blogging world.
I have left home and am now making my way in the big, scary world outside of home.
I may get on here and post updates. It depends.
I am enjoying new opportunities and learning things that I never knew before. Learning what NOT to say and do (at least they forgive me when I said something really bad, but they won't tell me what I just said because they are laughing so hard)
The worst part about not knowing these things is that everyone assumes you do. Like being an MK all over again. You look like you "fit in" but inside you don't, and people are shocked when you don't. I have to repeat my story to people about once a day because they forget. I am an independent 20 year old, why wouldn't I know what x-type of drink was....
Live and learn, they say. I guess I have not lived yet, because I am woefully short on the knowledge....
I have left home and am now making my way in the big, scary world outside of home.
I may get on here and post updates. It depends.
I am enjoying new opportunities and learning things that I never knew before. Learning what NOT to say and do (at least they forgive me when I said something really bad, but they won't tell me what I just said because they are laughing so hard)
The worst part about not knowing these things is that everyone assumes you do. Like being an MK all over again. You look like you "fit in" but inside you don't, and people are shocked when you don't. I have to repeat my story to people about once a day because they forget. I am an independent 20 year old, why wouldn't I know what x-type of drink was....
Live and learn, they say. I guess I have not lived yet, because I am woefully short on the knowledge....
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Packing
Packing boxes is one of the things missionary's do best!!
We are packing up our belongings again.
It is amazing how many things you aquire in life that fill up space yet never produce or result in anything positive. I have thrown out a lot of things in the past week which my pack-rat self has stored and miser-like hoarded for years.
I also threw out those "projects" which I have the tendency to begin, yet never finish because the inspiration fades. You probably would not believe the things I once planned on doing.
One hard thing for me right now is throwing away books.
I love books, but like my projects, I gather them and fail to read them. I have books on cheese. Does that make any sense? It is an old, falling apart book which has little value except for the information it contains. I guess I once wanted to make cheese!
Packing is an exercise of the will, because it drastically cuts into your comfort zone. How easy is it to put everything you own into brown packages and not use it for another 6 months or forever? It reduces the value of the material things and puts you back to the basics.
...there fore with food and raiment....let us be content!
We are packing up our belongings again.
It is amazing how many things you aquire in life that fill up space yet never produce or result in anything positive. I have thrown out a lot of things in the past week which my pack-rat self has stored and miser-like hoarded for years.
I also threw out those "projects" which I have the tendency to begin, yet never finish because the inspiration fades. You probably would not believe the things I once planned on doing.
One hard thing for me right now is throwing away books.
I love books, but like my projects, I gather them and fail to read them. I have books on cheese. Does that make any sense? It is an old, falling apart book which has little value except for the information it contains. I guess I once wanted to make cheese!
Packing is an exercise of the will, because it drastically cuts into your comfort zone. How easy is it to put everything you own into brown packages and not use it for another 6 months or forever? It reduces the value of the material things and puts you back to the basics.
...there fore with food and raiment....let us be content!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Snowtires
You might have heard.....but this area of the country is getting a mite of snow...
Ok....a good deal of snow....
OOOOKKKKK!!
About 10 times more snow than normal!!
In fact, so much snow that schools and churches were cancelling all activities, PenDot trucks were working full-blast, and roads were closed!
Tuseday, we were caught in the beginnings of a 24hour blizzard about 20 miles from home. (In fact, it was only 17, but rounding up is smoother) The snow was scheduled to begin at 2, but it didn't start till about 3:30. By 4 pm roads were clogged and we were stuck on a two-lane road trying to get to the library. We got there (well, not ME, but I will get to that later!) 3 minutes after closing time, and just as they were locking up.
However, we did make the post office. Well, we made the post office at 4. But the line was so long I went in to take my brother's place. Then my little sister came in to tell me that the rest of them were going to try to get the 1 or so mile to the library before it closed at 5. This was at about 4:15, and as I was finally 2nd in line. In three minutes the business was done, and so we sat down on the side to wait for the return of mother, siblings and car. Then, I get a phone call.
"Come meet us" she says. "We are only about 50 feet down the road."
I can't help but groan. The conditions are nearing whiteout in the deepening darkness. And I am wearing stockings and flats...
I set out quickly....watching to not slip, and trying to traverse the snow drifts from the previous 3ft of snow and the 1 inch already on the sidewalks.
"Should we pull into Dairy Queen and let you catch up?" she asks
"No, get to the library before it closes!! We'll catch up!!"
"But I have a green light!"
She goes through the light, and we come to a place where the sidewalk disappears and 3 feet of snow stretch for 10 feet to the roadway packed with cars.
I hesitated too long...there was no catching up now!
Sister and I finally reach and sit down in Dairy Queen.
After about 15 minutes we get a call....the library was closed (see above)
After another 10 or so minutes we run across to the other side of the street and get in the car.
2 plus hours later we finally pull into our driveway.
We need better snow tires!!
Ok....a good deal of snow....
OOOOKKKKK!!
About 10 times more snow than normal!!
In fact, so much snow that schools and churches were cancelling all activities, PenDot trucks were working full-blast, and roads were closed!
Tuseday, we were caught in the beginnings of a 24hour blizzard about 20 miles from home. (In fact, it was only 17, but rounding up is smoother) The snow was scheduled to begin at 2, but it didn't start till about 3:30. By 4 pm roads were clogged and we were stuck on a two-lane road trying to get to the library. We got there (well, not ME, but I will get to that later!) 3 minutes after closing time, and just as they were locking up.
However, we did make the post office. Well, we made the post office at 4. But the line was so long I went in to take my brother's place. Then my little sister came in to tell me that the rest of them were going to try to get the 1 or so mile to the library before it closed at 5. This was at about 4:15, and as I was finally 2nd in line. In three minutes the business was done, and so we sat down on the side to wait for the return of mother, siblings and car. Then, I get a phone call.
"Come meet us" she says. "We are only about 50 feet down the road."
I can't help but groan. The conditions are nearing whiteout in the deepening darkness. And I am wearing stockings and flats...
I set out quickly....watching to not slip, and trying to traverse the snow drifts from the previous 3ft of snow and the 1 inch already on the sidewalks.
"Should we pull into Dairy Queen and let you catch up?" she asks
"No, get to the library before it closes!! We'll catch up!!"
"But I have a green light!"
She goes through the light, and we come to a place where the sidewalk disappears and 3 feet of snow stretch for 10 feet to the roadway packed with cars.
I hesitated too long...there was no catching up now!
Sister and I finally reach and sit down in Dairy Queen.
After about 15 minutes we get a call....the library was closed (see above)
After another 10 or so minutes we run across to the other side of the street and get in the car.
2 plus hours later we finally pull into our driveway.
We need better snow tires!!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Of viruses and scissors
I have become very adept with scissors lately. I think I should hire myself out!
When our dogs had puppies, we began to have a huge need for newspapers for them to learn on and to clean up other newspapers with. Along with newspapers come ads, and with many ads come coupons.
My mother had been thinking about coupon-ing for "a while now" (as she put it) and so this sudden source of something more to do (like we didn't have anything else to do in the first place) has swamped us....especially lately.
At first I would take the hundred pages of adds and cut out everything. Mother would come along later and sort and categorize them into little envelope holders. This quickly became an obvious waste of both our time, and the little envelope things were hard to find things in and much to cramped for easy separating of the coupons we DID want.
Then came the Coupon Binder (basically a zippered folder with hundreds of pages of baseball-card-holder clear plastic sheets). With most of the coupons in full view, our only problem was to find enough space for everything (that binder can hardly close).
HOWEVER:
With a new method came changes to the cutting came changes in the filing. We now stay up until 3 or even 6 am (and sometimes even 2 nights in a row) laying out the pages and putting all the same ones on top of eachother. We then pick which ones we keep (yes, we have become very picky!) and cut them out, and lay them on a 12" by 4' (yes: 12 inches by 4 feet) line of paper with an average coupon space and a category title. Then, my job is done, but Mother then spends (approx.) another 3-5 hours taking each category and filing it into little baseball card slots in the binder.
Which way is more arranged? Which is quicker?
Who knows.
But, in case you thought that was it...think again!
After this, Mother goes through all the store adds or online sites with adds already categorized (or both, definitely both more often) and matches coupons up with sales, or rebates/register rewards (or both).
Then comes the process of going to these stores (often taking along "Oh, no, mommy is going to spend hours here again" kids), finding the items, getting the right (and enough) coupons from the binder, and then making sure that the prices ring up right. (you would not believe how many times "sale" items do not ring up as on sale)
Then comes the wonderful times when the stores have sold out of the certain item you were hoping to get. Then you have to get rain checks, or ask to substitute....
In all it is a time-consuming menace to sleep and sanity, but you either spend a lot of money and a short amount of time, or a lot of time and little to no money.
We have a list of at least 10 "everyday" items (makeup, soap, floss, etc.) that we will never buy unless it is free. Yes, completely free. I won't even pay 50cents for $8-$10 makeup, because I would rather wait and get it free! :P
Overall the time invested has great dividends, and while it feels like we are getting a TON of stuff, we have not exceeded our "normal" monthly grocery bill.
And I am very picky about what scissors I use. Only the ones that fit my hand nicely! :P
SO
On to the first part of the title of this post:
I hate viruses. My computer was recently stricken by some sort of virus that masqueraded as a "security" device and virus scan. As I kept exiting the annoying pop-up windows (I was not aware that it was a virus at the time), it began opening windows on Internet Explorer for online sites. (I am a Firefox user, even though IE has caught up with the tabs, etc.)
I finally realized it was a virus when the computer would suddenly shut off, and when it would sit on a boot-up page for an hour before finally turning on.
*insert me rolling my eyes
My dear, amazing, (sometimes?) gentlemanly, debonair, and kind older brother promptly took (my/his) computer to wherever he was going where he gutted it, and began to try to fix the hard drive. When that did not work (I cannot remember all the things he tried to do, it was as much as I could do to try not to laugh when he said he tried to install windows XP onto his tumbdrive) he then replaced the harddrive (ie. got a whole new one) and rebooted all the necessities and handed me a brand spanking clean laptop. :D
SO, hopefully from now on I shall have more consistent and faster blogposts!
When our dogs had puppies, we began to have a huge need for newspapers for them to learn on and to clean up other newspapers with. Along with newspapers come ads, and with many ads come coupons.
My mother had been thinking about coupon-ing for "a while now" (as she put it) and so this sudden source of something more to do (like we didn't have anything else to do in the first place) has swamped us....especially lately.
At first I would take the hundred pages of adds and cut out everything. Mother would come along later and sort and categorize them into little envelope holders. This quickly became an obvious waste of both our time, and the little envelope things were hard to find things in and much to cramped for easy separating of the coupons we DID want.
Then came the Coupon Binder (basically a zippered folder with hundreds of pages of baseball-card-holder clear plastic sheets). With most of the coupons in full view, our only problem was to find enough space for everything (that binder can hardly close).
HOWEVER:
With a new method came changes to the cutting came changes in the filing. We now stay up until 3 or even 6 am (and sometimes even 2 nights in a row) laying out the pages and putting all the same ones on top of eachother. We then pick which ones we keep (yes, we have become very picky!) and cut them out, and lay them on a 12" by 4' (yes: 12 inches by 4 feet) line of paper with an average coupon space and a category title. Then, my job is done, but Mother then spends (approx.) another 3-5 hours taking each category and filing it into little baseball card slots in the binder.
Which way is more arranged? Which is quicker?
Who knows.
But, in case you thought that was it...think again!
After this, Mother goes through all the store adds or online sites with adds already categorized (or both, definitely both more often) and matches coupons up with sales, or rebates/register rewards (or both).
Then comes the process of going to these stores (often taking along "Oh, no, mommy is going to spend hours here again" kids), finding the items, getting the right (and enough) coupons from the binder, and then making sure that the prices ring up right. (you would not believe how many times "sale" items do not ring up as on sale)
Then comes the wonderful times when the stores have sold out of the certain item you were hoping to get. Then you have to get rain checks, or ask to substitute....
In all it is a time-consuming menace to sleep and sanity, but you either spend a lot of money and a short amount of time, or a lot of time and little to no money.
We have a list of at least 10 "everyday" items (makeup, soap, floss, etc.) that we will never buy unless it is free. Yes, completely free. I won't even pay 50cents for $8-$10 makeup, because I would rather wait and get it free! :P
Overall the time invested has great dividends, and while it feels like we are getting a TON of stuff, we have not exceeded our "normal" monthly grocery bill.
And I am very picky about what scissors I use. Only the ones that fit my hand nicely! :P
SO
On to the first part of the title of this post:
I hate viruses. My computer was recently stricken by some sort of virus that masqueraded as a "security" device and virus scan. As I kept exiting the annoying pop-up windows (I was not aware that it was a virus at the time), it began opening windows on Internet Explorer for online sites. (I am a Firefox user, even though IE has caught up with the tabs, etc.)
I finally realized it was a virus when the computer would suddenly shut off, and when it would sit on a boot-up page for an hour before finally turning on.
*insert me rolling my eyes
My dear, amazing, (sometimes?) gentlemanly, debonair, and kind older brother promptly took (my/his) computer to wherever he was going where he gutted it, and began to try to fix the hard drive. When that did not work (I cannot remember all the things he tried to do, it was as much as I could do to try not to laugh when he said he tried to install windows XP onto his tumbdrive) he then replaced the harddrive (ie. got a whole new one) and rebooted all the necessities and handed me a brand spanking clean laptop. :D
SO, hopefully from now on I shall have more consistent and faster blogposts!
Friday, January 08, 2010
Verse for the day:
Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees....(Heb. 12)
Yeah...so I forgot to take medicine again today!I went to bed after 3 am (I don't know exactly) and woke up again to visit an elderly widowed neighbor lady who enjoys talking to someone (Anyone, really...I am just more available). I set my phone alarm for 12 noon, because I figured 2 hours was all I could spare.
When the alarm rang, she decided it was lunch time, and enjoyed detailing her fiasco with a dumb cop and PenDot, and how she was going to have her license taken away unless she took a repeat physical, and tests, etc. Before I knew it it was 1pm.
I basically drove home as fast as I could, and then I had to get ready for Square Dance (last practice before Dress Rehersal) in less than 20 minutes. Of course I forgot to take my meds!
SO....I was doing mostly ok, until the 5th dance (which I won't be dancing, but Mr. Prosser wants us to be fluent in all the dances and calls, and to help set and example for the younger kids.
There I was, the dance was almost over....and as I am twirling around to promenade I step on the edge of the guy's foot (with my left foot) and land on it the wrong way. As a quick stab of pain shoots up my knee, I am propelled around the circle back to home. As the dance goes into the final bars, I flatly refuse to dance. I sat down for as long as I could, but as every person is entirely necessary.....I HAD to dance!!!!
Can anyone spell: PAIN?!?!
I was completely preoccupied for the next 7 rounds (we repeated that song 3 more times, the next song 3 times, and the last song 2 or 3 times...). I moved as little as possible and sat down and elevated it as much as modestly possible.
By the last two dances I was no longer feeling as much (probbably due to a brain overload!) and I was able to jaoke and make fun of everyone.
Back at home I laid down for about 10 minutes and was limping for the rest of the night (pain sensors tunred back on!). I finally took pain medication so that I would be abe to sleep.
Oh, these feeble knees!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Mishmash
The moon is full for the next few days.
"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" is my top song
It is that time of year again.
I am glad to say that (probably due to not-thinking-about-it, or complete exhaustion (my mom keeps complaining about the dark circles under my eyes), or other-more-emotionally-draining issues) I am not as depressed as I was last year.
I even smiled at the moon tonight.
"Well it's a marvelous night for a moon-dance, with the stars up above in your eyes..."
Oh, and I like that movie.
Yet, for all the pretending and rutting-out-of-mind, deep in the pit of my stomach I know how hard it will be....
"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" is my top song
It is that time of year again.
I am glad to say that (probably due to not-thinking-about-it, or complete exhaustion (my mom keeps complaining about the dark circles under my eyes), or other-more-emotionally-draining issues) I am not as depressed as I was last year.
I even smiled at the moon tonight.
"Well it's a marvelous night for a moon-dance, with the stars up above in your eyes..."
Oh, and I like that movie.
Yet, for all the pretending and rutting-out-of-mind, deep in the pit of my stomach I know how hard it will be....
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Update on...
Update on the hip, and elbow, and... well, just watch out for ice, okay? I am hurting just about all over my right side. My praise is that it was not my left side. If my left leg had been the one to slide out I would probably be incapacitated still instead of bruised and aching.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Life so far: Update on the knee and hair
I have been absent again, but I had an enforced computer absence for other reasons. *grimace*
The turkey "holy-days" were grueling as far as constant movement and standing. My knee was in pretty fragile condition after them. The food was plentiful, but I found that I could not eat as much as I might have. Baking takes away my appetite. BUT, I did snack on cookies for the next 3 weeks!
Life these days is all-or-nothing. One day will be a complete drag, with nothing going on and nothing significant to do, and the next is full-throttle all day. Then comes weeks like this week, where Monday was blah, and then from Tuesday afternoon until Thursday night I had enough time to breate, but not to shower. (I curled and hair-sprayed my hair on Tue, and then had to make it do until Th. night. I couldn't brush out the spray, and I didn't have time for a shower! The curls had melted by 11pm anyway, so I was left with a "beach"shag that melted and frizzed anytime I tried to "do" something with it. Maybe this is what "afro" hair feels like?) I but on a self-made-crocheted beret on Wed, which may or may not have helped anything, and on Th, I put it in a ponytail and tired a western hat to hide the grease.
Moving on--------
My knee has also been in high demand for our weekply Square Dance sessions in preparation for the PA Farm Show competition being held Jan. 11th. For the first time in 3 years (as long as I have been with this group) and for the first time in....well....as long as anyone else can remember--there have been more guys than girls. Even some of the girls who dance (or prefer to dance) in the "boy" position (it does not really matter, as long as they use thier hands right) have had to switch over. Therefore, I have to dance all the time, every dance, whereas I had been able to sit out when not needed previously (I am a good 2 years older than most of the kids, so I come in as a "helper" when necessary). Last week I took medecine and danced without consequences (so I thought). Then, as I lay down to sleep, the medecine had had time to wear off, and my knee began to inform me of the drastic things I required of it...
Lets just say I slept fitfully that night.
This week.....I forgot to take anything. And I was a suddenly a very akward dancer. Besides being careful about what moves to make on dances that I was woefully unfamiliar with. Not only are there a whole bunch of new people (which can be good), but most of the new people are very young children who did not learn calls, or missed beginning weeks, or mixed up the calls, or forgot them since. This makes for some really messy squares. AND most of all, it makes for super slow weeks. Up until this week we had not done all the dances in a row...and this week was filled with mistakes and re-teaching easy stuff (a slide-through? OK, so I admit I was the one getting this wrong, but I had never danced slide-though boy, before!!) , and finally giving up on the break square (where everyone whi is NOT dancing this time dances to keep up on what is going on).
Today there is a big snow, which cancels the party I was supposed to be going to.
It is now scheduled for the 9th. Which speaking of boring-and-then-full-throttle...I have something going on then. And on the 10th is a final practice, and the 11th is the Farm Show....
Pass the Ibuprofen!
The turkey "holy-days" were grueling as far as constant movement and standing. My knee was in pretty fragile condition after them. The food was plentiful, but I found that I could not eat as much as I might have. Baking takes away my appetite. BUT, I did snack on cookies for the next 3 weeks!
Life these days is all-or-nothing. One day will be a complete drag, with nothing going on and nothing significant to do, and the next is full-throttle all day. Then comes weeks like this week, where Monday was blah, and then from Tuesday afternoon until Thursday night I had enough time to breate, but not to shower. (I curled and hair-sprayed my hair on Tue, and then had to make it do until Th. night. I couldn't brush out the spray, and I didn't have time for a shower! The curls had melted by 11pm anyway, so I was left with a "beach"shag that melted and frizzed anytime I tried to "do" something with it. Maybe this is what "afro" hair feels like?) I but on a self-made-crocheted beret on Wed, which may or may not have helped anything, and on Th, I put it in a ponytail and tired a western hat to hide the grease.
Moving on--------
My knee has also been in high demand for our weekply Square Dance sessions in preparation for the PA Farm Show competition being held Jan. 11th. For the first time in 3 years (as long as I have been with this group) and for the first time in....well....as long as anyone else can remember--there have been more guys than girls. Even some of the girls who dance (or prefer to dance) in the "boy" position (it does not really matter, as long as they use thier hands right) have had to switch over. Therefore, I have to dance all the time, every dance, whereas I had been able to sit out when not needed previously (I am a good 2 years older than most of the kids, so I come in as a "helper" when necessary). Last week I took medecine and danced without consequences (so I thought). Then, as I lay down to sleep, the medecine had had time to wear off, and my knee began to inform me of the drastic things I required of it...
Lets just say I slept fitfully that night.
This week.....I forgot to take anything. And I was a suddenly a very akward dancer. Besides being careful about what moves to make on dances that I was woefully unfamiliar with. Not only are there a whole bunch of new people (which can be good), but most of the new people are very young children who did not learn calls, or missed beginning weeks, or mixed up the calls, or forgot them since. This makes for some really messy squares. AND most of all, it makes for super slow weeks. Up until this week we had not done all the dances in a row...and this week was filled with mistakes and re-teaching easy stuff (a slide-through? OK, so I admit I was the one getting this wrong, but I had never danced slide-though boy, before!!) , and finally giving up on the break square (where everyone whi is NOT dancing this time dances to keep up on what is going on).
Today there is a big snow, which cancels the party I was supposed to be going to.
It is now scheduled for the 9th. Which speaking of boring-and-then-full-throttle...I have something going on then. And on the 10th is a final practice, and the 11th is the Farm Show....
Pass the Ibuprofen!
Monday, December 07, 2009
Monologue
It is late.
I have been up late for a couple nights now... just burning time.
Sometimes I wonder to myself why I am so careless with the only irreplaceable commodity. But then I realize that I have grown callused. In the midst of my search for life, in the day-to-day-ness of completing the tasks set before me-my calling-I have allowed depression to have some parts of my life. It can so easily numb you to things that you don't really want to have to think about right now, or to things you might want to forget.
I don't want this. I don't want to be sitting alone staring at a computer screen looking for some flash of interesting light, a message from a friend, or some random detail of fact or science.
With New Years staring me in the face, I made a vow to go back....the day that changes 2011 into 2012 I will be there. (this has nothing to do with any current trend, or the movie)
Right now that seems like a big goal....and a nearly impossible one, but I know it will be the next step. God's process of changing me has really taught me a lot about me, and about him.
Me:
I really don't like change. I also don't like where I am. I am a stubborn and ungrateful wretch. I am also a reluctant student. But when I finally see I can't wait to learn more. I have never had such a mix of joy and peace in my entire life.
I can know His will. I know it sounds presumptuous, but I am come to realize that when I need to know what to do, He shows me. It is as simple as that. Ever since NC I have been assured of His voice.
Him:
He really had things under control. (Seriously, if I did not have complete confidence that GOD is completely 100% sovereign and in control of EVERYTHING I would probably not be alive today. Without this there is no reason to live. No surety. No rest. And most of all--no peace.)
He loves me sooooooo much. I know it sounds cheesy. I know it sounds cliche. Have you ever allowed yourself to see that it is true? What is love? I still have VERY little idea. I throw the word love around a lot lately. I have decided to not use it any more unless in moments of utter seriousness and commitment. What is love? It is bleeding on that cross.
I matter. Why is this under God? Because I matter to Him. A lot of self-acceptance issues and worries really melt away when you have value to someone. His care for little things so many times has completely floored me. Almost like roses or poems, He reminds me that I matter. That He has special things for me (and only me) to accomplish for Him. Everything I have gone through is validated. It mattered. It affected me. It shaped me (yes, it cut and bruised me). It caused me to look to Him, to look for Him, to cling to Him.
I can trust.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-nJ3GYw11w
I have been up late for a couple nights now... just burning time.
Sometimes I wonder to myself why I am so careless with the only irreplaceable commodity. But then I realize that I have grown callused. In the midst of my search for life, in the day-to-day-ness of completing the tasks set before me-my calling-I have allowed depression to have some parts of my life. It can so easily numb you to things that you don't really want to have to think about right now, or to things you might want to forget.
I don't want this. I don't want to be sitting alone staring at a computer screen looking for some flash of interesting light, a message from a friend, or some random detail of fact or science.
With New Years staring me in the face, I made a vow to go back....the day that changes 2011 into 2012 I will be there. (this has nothing to do with any current trend, or the movie)
Right now that seems like a big goal....and a nearly impossible one, but I know it will be the next step. God's process of changing me has really taught me a lot about me, and about him.
Me:
I really don't like change. I also don't like where I am. I am a stubborn and ungrateful wretch. I am also a reluctant student. But when I finally see I can't wait to learn more. I have never had such a mix of joy and peace in my entire life.
I can know His will. I know it sounds presumptuous, but I am come to realize that when I need to know what to do, He shows me. It is as simple as that. Ever since NC I have been assured of His voice.
Him:
He really had things under control. (Seriously, if I did not have complete confidence that GOD is completely 100% sovereign and in control of EVERYTHING I would probably not be alive today. Without this there is no reason to live. No surety. No rest. And most of all--no peace.)
He loves me sooooooo much. I know it sounds cheesy. I know it sounds cliche. Have you ever allowed yourself to see that it is true? What is love? I still have VERY little idea. I throw the word love around a lot lately. I have decided to not use it any more unless in moments of utter seriousness and commitment. What is love? It is bleeding on that cross.
I matter. Why is this under God? Because I matter to Him. A lot of self-acceptance issues and worries really melt away when you have value to someone. His care for little things so many times has completely floored me. Almost like roses or poems, He reminds me that I matter. That He has special things for me (and only me) to accomplish for Him. Everything I have gone through is validated. It mattered. It affected me. It shaped me (yes, it cut and bruised me). It caused me to look to Him, to look for Him, to cling to Him.
“I cannot endure that the soul should fall back upon aught else but myself with joy and pleasure, so I block up all roads with thorns; I stop up all gaps with hardships, and, lest it should escape me, I strew its way with suffering.”
Hosea 2:14 "Therefore I ....will bring her into the wilderness,It is late. I have been up late for a couple night now....sometimes I am learning, sometimes I am defeated by self-pity and depression. Other nights, like tonight, I know that people are praying for me. I know that there is reason in what is going on and beauty unfolding.
And speak comfort to her...."
I can trust.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-nJ3GYw11w
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Expectations:
But perhaps I should call this post: Standards.
Different ages and societies have different expectations or standards that they impose upon their members. Those who care, but do not conform, live a lifetime of guilt-ridden emotion. “If only I tried harder”. “Maybe if I did this...” “I heard that someone tried this and it worked for them...”
These expectations/standards are not necessarily negative, but they give a culture its unique addition to the diversity that abounds in the world.
The problems come when this diversity is looked down upon within a society. One of the most difficult expectations that I think young women come up against in modern American society is the expectation of size. I am not even referring to the modeling or movie industry (although it is quite plausible that they have added to the stigma of being large).
Throughout my life, I have been larger than most of those who surround me. When I was 9 I began growing to about the height I am now (save two or so inches) and by 11 an older boy from the youth group was calling me a “Mighty Meaty Hotdog” after a TV commercial advertising a larger brand of said foodstuff than had every been on the market. I was a rather naive 11 year old, and I would respond by calling him “Mr. Juicy Fruit” (as in the chewing gum). In being naive, I was spared so much of what could have hurt me deeply in his words.
However, one cannot stay a child forever. I soon became conscious of my proportions as compared to those who surrounded me. I was unsure of how (or what) to change, though. The fact is that I could not change. It was healthy for me to be that size according to how my bone structure and build had been created by God. I was not overeating, and I was eating healthy, wholesome foods.
When I was 14, our family moved o America, and I gained 40lbs in two months just from the diet changes. I was suddenly even more conscious of skinny American girls with make-uped complexions and slim legs. I spent my own money to try to “fix” and “help” myself. I regulated as much as I could think of. I tried my hardest to “be beautiful”.
Then came a day I will remember for the rest of my life. My grandmother, who is similar to me in height, structure and much else was visiting when I explained to her my most recent endeavors to change myself to fit the expectations of my age. She, who had struggled similarly her whole entire life, looked me straight in the eye and said: “Stop it! Stop!!! You will never look like them!! You will never be able to be like them!”. She was weeping as she spoke. She knew what her words would do to me, and she said them out of a pure love for me, and a concern for my future life and well being.
I was not able to assimilate her wisdom, though, and for a couple years still attempted to fit into the standards set by our society. I was not unhealthy, and I did not gain more weight, but I could not loose what I had.
What kind of a society sets numbers as a precedent for beauty? BMI can be ******, and so can scales. How reasonable is it to say “...up to this number you are appealing, and no further?”
It has not been until recently that I have been able to raise my hands to God and say in full surrender: “You are to be praised for creating me how I am”. I am truly grateful for His grace in allowing me to live and use this body that He has given me for His glory. I am fully persuaded that the size I am now is His will. If it were better for me to glorify him weighing 10 or 50 pounds less: then I would not be the size that I am.
“Exercise” does not create a better person. Eating less does not create a more holy person. Weighing only 120 lbs does not make a more beautiful person. It only makes you anorexic.
My grandmother is probbably the wisest woman I know. She has had to suffer much from the expectations of society as a whole and the people who surround her who think they know better than God how large her proportions or how heavy her tread..
And to those people in my life: Go talk to God. Tell him what weight you think He should make me and see if He agrees with you. I am only His bondservant.
soli Deo gloria
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Jouney Part I
I am posting these in backwards order so that those who are reading have only to scroll down. I think always of ease of reading and understanding for my readers. ;)
Part I—
I am sure some of you know, but for those of you who don’t, I was away from home the last two-ish weeks visiting friends across the nation and attending a “camp” type program called Journey to the Heart. I hesitate to call it a “camp” because it is far more serious and deals with deeper issues than any other summer camp program I have heard of. It’s whole purpose is to help you seek God “with all your heart, soul, and mind.” It is through IBLP (if any of you have heard of Bill Gothard, or the ATI homeschooling program).
We (all attendees) arrived Saturday around noon, and before dinner attended a staff meeting where we listened to testimonies and began our Journey. (Mr. Gothard loves testimonies) A group of VIP ladies from Romania (the head of all the public schools, and another lady who was in the upper circle) spoke shortly (through a translator) about how they had been implementing things from the Basic Seminar and how they were going to work on translating and producing Mr. Gothard’s new “Lies We Believe” booklet for use in the public schools.
Sunday we went to a church service, and then we fasted over lunch (fasting from breakfast was optional, and we were informed ahead that fasting was planned) and listened to Mr. Gothard speak about things we were going to learn, or need, or find helpful.
Sunday night we watched an episode of the Duggar family’s Discovery TV program (they are an ATI family, and 4 of their oldest girls were in one team), and listened to further testimonies.
Monday we all dressed in our green shirts (or pink or white, depending on what team you were on) and had a final meeting with all the staff. A man who was translating the Basic Seminar into Arabic (yes, and working through all the different language groups/dialects involved) gave a testimony about his life as an oil worker. He was a pretty dynamic guy. Oil worker, bible college student, etc.
We then spent about 45 minutes out in the wind (it was not only cold, but overcast and windy) while chairs and sheets were set up, and while we were arranges, re-arranged, and arranged again for a group picture. I am not with my team, because my knee could not maneuver into the highly akward kneeling/sitting/twisted position necessary to be on the front row. Three of my group were eventually moved to the back row, and two of the other green team moved to the front row.
We then piled into vans and headed out on an 8 hour excursion up past Chicago, through Wisconsin, and finally to Watersmeet, MI. The Northwoods Conference Center is a lovely piece of ground owned by IBLP, which was redeemed from a past of Indian ritual and spiritism. Also, many of the Journey retreats find that cleansing from sin and finding freedom is something Satan fights against. It later became known that one of the girls had a family history of (and she herself used to dabble in) witchcraft. I became speedily inducted into a life of extreme spiritual warfare which I had not exactly believed existed. Many girls were sick, or felt like they were about to get sick. Much of the leaders times together was praying for their teams and binding the powers of iniquity (so we were told). I was pretty scared for a while. One of the girls on my team had a dark shape visit her every night for years. She could point to a spot in her room where it stood. Once, when I was writing out questions I had and issues I was working through, I began shaking. This had happened to me previously this year, and it usually became debilitating to the extent that I could no longer write. I asked Libby if it was because of bitterness in me, or anger, or some fear, and she figured it was an attack. When I write out things it helps me be able to process them more thoroughly, and it also gets them off of the slow-burner in the back of my mind. Libby said that it must be an attack to try to keep me stewing over them, or to keep my mind busy. That really got me scared, but I prayed (out loud) that Satan be bound, and the shaking slowly stopped. I am still scared by that. It did happen again twice, but when I prayed—it would stop.
Oh, and the part about being busy in your mind: The day that happened was Thursday; The Day of Delighting in the Lord. It was a day of fasting and searching out the scriptures. There was a big emphasis on quieting of the mind and being silent. Waiting for God. Really waiting. I have been working on that on the train and since I came home. It really is an exercise!! It is absurd how many things you remember when you try to be still. Peace, my soul, be still.
Part I—
I am sure some of you know, but for those of you who don’t, I was away from home the last two-ish weeks visiting friends across the nation and attending a “camp” type program called Journey to the Heart. I hesitate to call it a “camp” because it is far more serious and deals with deeper issues than any other summer camp program I have heard of. It’s whole purpose is to help you seek God “with all your heart, soul, and mind.” It is through IBLP (if any of you have heard of Bill Gothard, or the ATI homeschooling program).
We (all attendees) arrived Saturday around noon, and before dinner attended a staff meeting where we listened to testimonies and began our Journey. (Mr. Gothard loves testimonies) A group of VIP ladies from Romania (the head of all the public schools, and another lady who was in the upper circle) spoke shortly (through a translator) about how they had been implementing things from the Basic Seminar and how they were going to work on translating and producing Mr. Gothard’s new “Lies We Believe” booklet for use in the public schools.
Sunday we went to a church service, and then we fasted over lunch (fasting from breakfast was optional, and we were informed ahead that fasting was planned) and listened to Mr. Gothard speak about things we were going to learn, or need, or find helpful.
Sunday night we watched an episode of the Duggar family’s Discovery TV program (they are an ATI family, and 4 of their oldest girls were in one team), and listened to further testimonies.
Monday we all dressed in our green shirts (or pink or white, depending on what team you were on) and had a final meeting with all the staff. A man who was translating the Basic Seminar into Arabic (yes, and working through all the different language groups/dialects involved) gave a testimony about his life as an oil worker. He was a pretty dynamic guy. Oil worker, bible college student, etc.
We then spent about 45 minutes out in the wind (it was not only cold, but overcast and windy) while chairs and sheets were set up, and while we were arranges, re-arranged, and arranged again for a group picture. I am not with my team, because my knee could not maneuver into the highly akward kneeling/sitting/twisted position necessary to be on the front row. Three of my group were eventually moved to the back row, and two of the other green team moved to the front row.
We then piled into vans and headed out on an 8 hour excursion up past Chicago, through Wisconsin, and finally to Watersmeet, MI. The Northwoods Conference Center is a lovely piece of ground owned by IBLP, which was redeemed from a past of Indian ritual and spiritism. Also, many of the Journey retreats find that cleansing from sin and finding freedom is something Satan fights against. It later became known that one of the girls had a family history of (and she herself used to dabble in) witchcraft. I became speedily inducted into a life of extreme spiritual warfare which I had not exactly believed existed. Many girls were sick, or felt like they were about to get sick. Much of the leaders times together was praying for their teams and binding the powers of iniquity (so we were told). I was pretty scared for a while. One of the girls on my team had a dark shape visit her every night for years. She could point to a spot in her room where it stood. Once, when I was writing out questions I had and issues I was working through, I began shaking. This had happened to me previously this year, and it usually became debilitating to the extent that I could no longer write. I asked Libby if it was because of bitterness in me, or anger, or some fear, and she figured it was an attack. When I write out things it helps me be able to process them more thoroughly, and it also gets them off of the slow-burner in the back of my mind. Libby said that it must be an attack to try to keep me stewing over them, or to keep my mind busy. That really got me scared, but I prayed (out loud) that Satan be bound, and the shaking slowly stopped. I am still scared by that. It did happen again twice, but when I prayed—it would stop.
Oh, and the part about being busy in your mind: The day that happened was Thursday; The Day of Delighting in the Lord. It was a day of fasting and searching out the scriptures. There was a big emphasis on quieting of the mind and being silent. Waiting for God. Really waiting. I have been working on that on the train and since I came home. It really is an exercise!! It is absurd how many things you remember when you try to be still. Peace, my soul, be still.
Journey Part III
Part III—
Saturday was our “sleep in” day. I was sick. I finally found the strength to get up at about 9 in the morning. I was ready, however, when the breakfast van came by, which some of us hadn’t taken showers yet, or were in the middle of one. (yikes)
I find it amazing. Almost all of us girls came with some measure of trepidation about “perfect ATI girls” or just “girls” in particular. I was not looking forward to having to explain being an MK to a bunch of “wow, I care SOOO much” homeschoolers....who would all have wonderful Gothard families and look like all-American-girl dolls.
Yet, each of us eventually let down our barriers, and we realized that we all had the same fear of eachother....and IT WASN’T TRUE!!
Good is just amazing!!
Well, Saturday we finished up a “personality test” DVD that we had begun watching during the week, and did some tests to determine “love language” and then we went to Bond Falls. Bond Falls is not as amazing as some waterfalls I have been to, but it is lovely to be sure. However, it has some nasty terrain!! My knee worked through it slowly, and by the grace of God I did not die from drinking stream water (thank you Dearest for the pain pills) or from falling/slipping/etc which was a dire possibility.
Got some lovely pictures!
That night we asked if any of the other teams had experienced the same as we did, and we were told some of the info I wrote above, and other things. We all felt very burdened for the other teams, and decided to wake up early to pray for them.
Sunday we woke up around 4:30 in the morning. Yes, 4 AM. We cleaned the gatehouse from cellar to dome (neither of which it had, but the thought counts), and prayed for the other teams, and spent some last moments in our lovely home before rushing to eat and rushing to leave. We drove back to Hinsdale, and I slept most of the time...at least that is how it felt. I honestly don’t remember...so I must have been asleep. Most of the time I was awake I was ruminating over what to share as a testimony (Mr. Gothard loves testimonies) and praying for the other teams. Our visionary sister was given a dream/vision (burden) for (a) girl or girls who had still not confessed or dealt with things. She saw them halfway between the platform (to give their testimony) and the door (to leave without changing) and it really weighed on her. We all prayed right outside the door to the Staff Meeting room, and Libby asked Mr. Gothard if we could recite I Cor which we had memorized. We had planned on being the first ones to give testimonies, but two other girls stood up almost right away and said a few short words. We arranged ourselves in verse order and gave testimonies in reverse-verse order because we got mixed up. It was interesting how we were (I think) the only group to all give testimonies. I had written out a slew of ideas and things to say, and had written out 5 pages of thoughts. I ended up sharing very little of any of that. What I did say I felt (afterwards) could have been better, or more of this-or-that, or more moving, or more about specific things that helped me....but everyone said that I said what was “me” and that it had been really good. In fact, most of the girls felt that they did not say what they had planned, or felt that their testimonies were lacking....but we all agreed that they had been very good, very helpful and right on the mark. That is when amazing visionary said “Hey, girls, remember we were praying that the Spirit would speak through us...His words and not our own? That is what happened....” We did not give or say what we had wanted/thought with our feeble intellects was the best, or most holy or most hard-hitting thing, but we were His vessels, and we spoke His words. When we all finished, and we recited our 3 verses, the line for testimonies had tripled, and four girls had come up to our visionary and said “Was it me? Because I felt you were talking to me.” She said that she did not know who it was, but that God was the one working and God had given her the burden. She prayed with each of them, and she said that once she had given her testimony, she felt the burden lifted. Not that there was no need for those 4 girls, but that it was not her burden anymore, but God’s. God had given it to her, and she had used it, and now it was up to Him again.
Testimonies continued until lunch break on Monday. Mr. Gothard said (at least a half-dozen times) that he had never heard a Journey with such powerful testimonies. Libby told us a couple times that he was being truthful about it too. She said some Journeys came and went with only a couple testimonies, or testimonies about water-tubing instead of sin-confessing. Nearly every team had two or three girls speak, and about 3 teams had most (or all?) of their girls say something.
Monday was a mixture of speakers and sessions about different things. It was definitely a trying day for me as I struggled with dashed hopes in an area, and disappointment, and my expectations of certain people (I thought they promised something, but they never fulfilled what they said) made me hold a grudge. Tuesday I was hit by such an attack that I could not move from the couch. I said some rather angry and depressing and hurt things. In fact, I was powerless until two girls finally got down beside me and prayed. Then I suddenly realized what I was doing (holding a grudge of expectations, being depressed). I was able (after they prayed) to see what was going on. I rebuked Satan for poisoning my mind, and I prayed and forgave the people for not following through, and I gave God my expectations. Afterwards I was my cheerful self again, and I was definitely scared again by what was going on. This spiritual-warfare stuff is freaky, guys!!
Tuesday right after lunch I was driven to the train station, where after a few hugs and a prayer, I boarded the Metra and headed away to Chicago. Once there, I got my tickets paid for (staying an extra day was a blessing, although an expensive one), I was able to check in my big bag, and I headed out into the Windy City to see some sights before 6pm.
As I was meandering outside Union Station, I was once again accosted (not in a bad sense) by a “black angel” as I had begun calling them. Seriously. Random black guys with a degree of ragged clothing who know directions to everywhere and are more than willing to help you. Anyway, this one was selling newspapers and I didn’t have any spare change, so we just traded information. (Note: in Chicago, people who are used to walking tend to underestimate distances) He told me that Pacific Garden Mission (home of “Unshackled” Radio programs) was about 4 blocks down from the station. I had wanted to go there/visit/have a tour, so I headed off and walked four blocks. I had to ask a lady in a store then, because I was told “you can’t miss it”. She said it was down four MORE blocks....which was more like 6 and a half. BUT ANYWAY, I got there and a very active and cheerful lady (I believe the only white lady in the entire building) gave me a personal and interesting tour. She loved the fact that I used to listen to “Unshackled” in the Philippines, and even walked me to the bus stop two and a half blocks away. Then, a very trendily dressed white lady helped me get directions to Chicago and LaSalle street by the subway, and I then (with directions from another black angel) headed down about 4 blocks to Moody Bible Institute Campus, where I spent about an hour with a friend. Yes, my knee was not very happy, but I was able to sit down for a part of that time. Interesting thing, though, was that my shoulder actually hurt a LOT more than my knee. Lugging around books and all the extra weight over 50lbs from your big suitcase is NOT something I would suggest to any compadres on a walking tour.
SO, I got back to Union Station right around 6pm when the sun was setting, and I wandered around the food court for some time trying to find a cheap, yet tasteful sustenance besides the water and chips that I had stashed in my bag. The Pitts station sure doesn’t have any available food, and I would need something before my 19 hour trip was over. I finally picked up some bread sticks from the little Pizza Hut, and boarded the train just as it was announced for boarding. While the train from Pitts to Chicago was mostly empty, the train from Chicago to Pitts (to Washington DC, actually) was reserved seating only. I had a seatmate, but I was so tired that I fell asleep almost right away. It was a little less cold with a packed train, and I had on extra layers, but sleeping in a small seat is always uncomfortable. My neck was all cramped up when we got to Pitts at 5 in the morning. I then wrote in my Journey Journal until 7am when the train to Harrisburg came ready. I was able to get a row of seats, but my things also cramped me...and I slept there again (Note: Dear readers—never set good intentions when you travel). I woke up about 30 minutes away and my shoulder finally stopped being numb from carrying my huge bag and sleeping in a twisted up position....ouch.
It was good to get pushed and pulled in every direction my silly siblings when I got out to the car, and to hear their chatter and find out about all the new scrapes and bumps and bruises they had received since I was gone. I had intended to sleep and unpack, but as life in this family would go—my grandparents on my mothers side were driving up from Virginia the next day and food and a room had to be prepared for them...as well as all the chores that had fallen by the wayside when I was not there to do them....
That night I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning trying to figure out whether I wanted to be involved in a drama camp in the area, and figuring out details to a TeenPact alumni event.
Thursday we all went out (missing the first Square Dance Practice of the season) to audition, chess class and a Constitution Class. We got home about 10 minutes before the Grandparents walked in the door. I was then up until about 12:30 typing out the beginnings of this whole thingymabobber.
Saturday was our “sleep in” day. I was sick. I finally found the strength to get up at about 9 in the morning. I was ready, however, when the breakfast van came by, which some of us hadn’t taken showers yet, or were in the middle of one. (yikes)
I find it amazing. Almost all of us girls came with some measure of trepidation about “perfect ATI girls” or just “girls” in particular. I was not looking forward to having to explain being an MK to a bunch of “wow, I care SOOO much” homeschoolers....who would all have wonderful Gothard families and look like all-American-girl dolls.
Yet, each of us eventually let down our barriers, and we realized that we all had the same fear of eachother....and IT WASN’T TRUE!!
Good is just amazing!!
Well, Saturday we finished up a “personality test” DVD that we had begun watching during the week, and did some tests to determine “love language” and then we went to Bond Falls. Bond Falls is not as amazing as some waterfalls I have been to, but it is lovely to be sure. However, it has some nasty terrain!! My knee worked through it slowly, and by the grace of God I did not die from drinking stream water (thank you Dearest for the pain pills) or from falling/slipping/etc which was a dire possibility.
Got some lovely pictures!
That night we asked if any of the other teams had experienced the same as we did, and we were told some of the info I wrote above, and other things. We all felt very burdened for the other teams, and decided to wake up early to pray for them.
Sunday we woke up around 4:30 in the morning. Yes, 4 AM. We cleaned the gatehouse from cellar to dome (neither of which it had, but the thought counts), and prayed for the other teams, and spent some last moments in our lovely home before rushing to eat and rushing to leave. We drove back to Hinsdale, and I slept most of the time...at least that is how it felt. I honestly don’t remember...so I must have been asleep. Most of the time I was awake I was ruminating over what to share as a testimony (Mr. Gothard loves testimonies) and praying for the other teams. Our visionary sister was given a dream/vision (burden) for (a) girl or girls who had still not confessed or dealt with things. She saw them halfway between the platform (to give their testimony) and the door (to leave without changing) and it really weighed on her. We all prayed right outside the door to the Staff Meeting room, and Libby asked Mr. Gothard if we could recite I Cor which we had memorized. We had planned on being the first ones to give testimonies, but two other girls stood up almost right away and said a few short words. We arranged ourselves in verse order and gave testimonies in reverse-verse order because we got mixed up. It was interesting how we were (I think) the only group to all give testimonies. I had written out a slew of ideas and things to say, and had written out 5 pages of thoughts. I ended up sharing very little of any of that. What I did say I felt (afterwards) could have been better, or more of this-or-that, or more moving, or more about specific things that helped me....but everyone said that I said what was “me” and that it had been really good. In fact, most of the girls felt that they did not say what they had planned, or felt that their testimonies were lacking....but we all agreed that they had been very good, very helpful and right on the mark. That is when amazing visionary said “Hey, girls, remember we were praying that the Spirit would speak through us...His words and not our own? That is what happened....” We did not give or say what we had wanted/thought with our feeble intellects was the best, or most holy or most hard-hitting thing, but we were His vessels, and we spoke His words. When we all finished, and we recited our 3 verses, the line for testimonies had tripled, and four girls had come up to our visionary and said “Was it me? Because I felt you were talking to me.” She said that she did not know who it was, but that God was the one working and God had given her the burden. She prayed with each of them, and she said that once she had given her testimony, she felt the burden lifted. Not that there was no need for those 4 girls, but that it was not her burden anymore, but God’s. God had given it to her, and she had used it, and now it was up to Him again.
Testimonies continued until lunch break on Monday. Mr. Gothard said (at least a half-dozen times) that he had never heard a Journey with such powerful testimonies. Libby told us a couple times that he was being truthful about it too. She said some Journeys came and went with only a couple testimonies, or testimonies about water-tubing instead of sin-confessing. Nearly every team had two or three girls speak, and about 3 teams had most (or all?) of their girls say something.
Monday was a mixture of speakers and sessions about different things. It was definitely a trying day for me as I struggled with dashed hopes in an area, and disappointment, and my expectations of certain people (I thought they promised something, but they never fulfilled what they said) made me hold a grudge. Tuesday I was hit by such an attack that I could not move from the couch. I said some rather angry and depressing and hurt things. In fact, I was powerless until two girls finally got down beside me and prayed. Then I suddenly realized what I was doing (holding a grudge of expectations, being depressed). I was able (after they prayed) to see what was going on. I rebuked Satan for poisoning my mind, and I prayed and forgave the people for not following through, and I gave God my expectations. Afterwards I was my cheerful self again, and I was definitely scared again by what was going on. This spiritual-warfare stuff is freaky, guys!!
Tuesday right after lunch I was driven to the train station, where after a few hugs and a prayer, I boarded the Metra and headed away to Chicago. Once there, I got my tickets paid for (staying an extra day was a blessing, although an expensive one), I was able to check in my big bag, and I headed out into the Windy City to see some sights before 6pm.
As I was meandering outside Union Station, I was once again accosted (not in a bad sense) by a “black angel” as I had begun calling them. Seriously. Random black guys with a degree of ragged clothing who know directions to everywhere and are more than willing to help you. Anyway, this one was selling newspapers and I didn’t have any spare change, so we just traded information. (Note: in Chicago, people who are used to walking tend to underestimate distances) He told me that Pacific Garden Mission (home of “Unshackled” Radio programs) was about 4 blocks down from the station. I had wanted to go there/visit/have a tour, so I headed off and walked four blocks. I had to ask a lady in a store then, because I was told “you can’t miss it”. She said it was down four MORE blocks....which was more like 6 and a half. BUT ANYWAY, I got there and a very active and cheerful lady (I believe the only white lady in the entire building) gave me a personal and interesting tour. She loved the fact that I used to listen to “Unshackled” in the Philippines, and even walked me to the bus stop two and a half blocks away. Then, a very trendily dressed white lady helped me get directions to Chicago and LaSalle street by the subway, and I then (with directions from another black angel) headed down about 4 blocks to Moody Bible Institute Campus, where I spent about an hour with a friend. Yes, my knee was not very happy, but I was able to sit down for a part of that time. Interesting thing, though, was that my shoulder actually hurt a LOT more than my knee. Lugging around books and all the extra weight over 50lbs from your big suitcase is NOT something I would suggest to any compadres on a walking tour.
SO, I got back to Union Station right around 6pm when the sun was setting, and I wandered around the food court for some time trying to find a cheap, yet tasteful sustenance besides the water and chips that I had stashed in my bag. The Pitts station sure doesn’t have any available food, and I would need something before my 19 hour trip was over. I finally picked up some bread sticks from the little Pizza Hut, and boarded the train just as it was announced for boarding. While the train from Pitts to Chicago was mostly empty, the train from Chicago to Pitts (to Washington DC, actually) was reserved seating only. I had a seatmate, but I was so tired that I fell asleep almost right away. It was a little less cold with a packed train, and I had on extra layers, but sleeping in a small seat is always uncomfortable. My neck was all cramped up when we got to Pitts at 5 in the morning. I then wrote in my Journey Journal until 7am when the train to Harrisburg came ready. I was able to get a row of seats, but my things also cramped me...and I slept there again (Note: Dear readers—never set good intentions when you travel). I woke up about 30 minutes away and my shoulder finally stopped being numb from carrying my huge bag and sleeping in a twisted up position....ouch.
It was good to get pushed and pulled in every direction my silly siblings when I got out to the car, and to hear their chatter and find out about all the new scrapes and bumps and bruises they had received since I was gone. I had intended to sleep and unpack, but as life in this family would go—my grandparents on my mothers side were driving up from Virginia the next day and food and a room had to be prepared for them...as well as all the chores that had fallen by the wayside when I was not there to do them....
That night I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning trying to figure out whether I wanted to be involved in a drama camp in the area, and figuring out details to a TeenPact alumni event.
Thursday we all went out (missing the first Square Dance Practice of the season) to audition, chess class and a Constitution Class. We got home about 10 minutes before the Grandparents walked in the door. I was then up until about 12:30 typing out the beginnings of this whole thingymabobber.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
The Complete Opposite
I would really like to know why young (particularly unmarried) females always get told that their worst nightmare will surely happen to them?
I am sure you know what I mean.
I have often noted (out loud) things that I dislike and/or abhor in people or things.
Without fail (try it sometime!!!) some person in my family or surrounding will point out to me (in the most serious tone of voice) how I should not say/think such things.
Why?
Because (so they say) "Just watch! You are going to marry someone who is a _______ or who does ______ (that thing which you abhor or dislike)
Yes, dear friends: I am most definitely doomed to marry a math-loving, semi-truck-driving, chemistry-and-physics whiz husband.
I am sorry, but I have forgotten the other sure traits that I have been bound to.
Anyone with the said qualifications, please feel free to call me!
Seriously, now! Why is it that when a person dislikes or does not appreciate certain things, she is told that she must marry/be eternally bound to that exact thing? Would it not make more sense for her to choose someone who would not annoy/scare her? (yes, semi-trucks are scary!!! VERY scary!!!!)
While I do have a list of "Things-I-Want-In-A-Future-Husband", they do NOT include math, semi-trucks, or the deeper realms of physics, chemistry, or complicated formulas and x-y-m equations. If you would like to marry me and have an overwhelming love for those areas.....well.....I can't promise anything, but I would like to warn you in the beginning you have a handicap to overcome!
I am sure you know what I mean.
I have often noted (out loud) things that I dislike and/or abhor in people or things.
Without fail (try it sometime!!!) some person in my family or surrounding will point out to me (in the most serious tone of voice) how I should not say/think such things.
Why?
Because (so they say) "Just watch! You are going to marry someone who is a _______ or who does ______ (that thing which you abhor or dislike)
Yes, dear friends: I am most definitely doomed to marry a math-loving, semi-truck-driving, chemistry-and-physics whiz husband.
I am sorry, but I have forgotten the other sure traits that I have been bound to.
Anyone with the said qualifications, please feel free to call me!
Seriously, now! Why is it that when a person dislikes or does not appreciate certain things, she is told that she must marry/be eternally bound to that exact thing? Would it not make more sense for her to choose someone who would not annoy/scare her? (yes, semi-trucks are scary!!! VERY scary!!!!)
While I do have a list of "Things-I-Want-In-A-Future-Husband", they do NOT include math, semi-trucks, or the deeper realms of physics, chemistry, or complicated formulas and x-y-m equations. If you would like to marry me and have an overwhelming love for those areas.....well.....I can't promise anything, but I would like to warn you in the beginning you have a handicap to overcome!
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Today
The title is actually misleading. because it was today, 5 years ago, that I am thinking of.
5 years ago, I took one last look at everything I had ever called "home."
5 years ago, I left everything I loved that did not fit in my allotted portion of the 70lb boxes we could take on the airplane.
5 years ago, I gave my cats one last hug, and never saw them again.
5 years ago, I turned away, and stepped into the waiting van.
5 years ago, I stepped into an airplane.
5 years ago, that airplane lifted me high up and 11 thousand miles away from all of that.
5 years ago, I lost my heart somewhere in that green-and-white-and-blue ocean and island.
5 years ago, I buried it deep, where no one could find it. Maybe it is not dead, though. Maybe someone found it and kept it safe for me.
5 years ago, I wanted to die.
5 years ago, today, was the hardest day of my life.
Are these wounds healed? Have I found a new life and meaning here in this country? Has God been working in me?
To answer the last question: Yes
To answer the first question: No, otherwise I would not be weeping my heart out as I type.
As for the middle question: I don't know. I have tried to understand and reach out and be acceptable. I still feel like an outsider, a loner, and a foreigner. I have formed some deep friendships. But my roots are still volatile. In shock. Fearful. Distrusting.
Life is never easy. But today, as it was 5 years ago, life is intolerable.
5 years ago, I took one last look at everything I had ever called "home."
5 years ago, I left everything I loved that did not fit in my allotted portion of the 70lb boxes we could take on the airplane.
5 years ago, I gave my cats one last hug, and never saw them again.
5 years ago, I turned away, and stepped into the waiting van.
5 years ago, I stepped into an airplane.
5 years ago, that airplane lifted me high up and 11 thousand miles away from all of that.
5 years ago, I lost my heart somewhere in that green-and-white-and-blue ocean and island.
5 years ago, I buried it deep, where no one could find it. Maybe it is not dead, though. Maybe someone found it and kept it safe for me.
5 years ago, I wanted to die.
5 years ago, today, was the hardest day of my life.
Are these wounds healed? Have I found a new life and meaning here in this country? Has God been working in me?
To answer the last question: Yes
To answer the first question: No, otherwise I would not be weeping my heart out as I type.
As for the middle question: I don't know. I have tried to understand and reach out and be acceptable. I still feel like an outsider, a loner, and a foreigner. I have formed some deep friendships. But my roots are still volatile. In shock. Fearful. Distrusting.
Life is never easy. But today, as it was 5 years ago, life is intolerable.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
An Example in Prudence:
When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the...bonds which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation...
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.....
Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends....
We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.....
Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends....
We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Defend the Schools!!!
Interesting thoughts from Dr. Voddie Baucham
He then links to this post from ethicsdaily.com which ends by saying:
As many as eighty-five to ninety percent of professing Christians send their children to the government for their education. That is simply an astonishing figure considering the fact that the Christian community fought mandatory government education tooth-and-nail for it’s first fifty years of existence. Since then we have gone from fighting against government schools to fighting for them and implying that those who fight against them are fundamentalists, anti-intellectuals, and racists.
He then links to this post from ethicsdaily.com which ends by saying:
We believe public schools advance the common good and deserve the intense support of people of faith. We think the demonizing of public school employees is morally wrong. We contend that hate speech against public education bears false witness.....
Rather than retreat from public education, goodwill Baptists must be known as the ones who speak up for public schools and refuse to give up on one of our nation's most important institutions.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Switch Gears:
Having received word that my blog is "depressing" I shall endeavor to post something that often helps me out of my "depression".
I had heard this song before from the VCD it was originally on. Then, to my utmost heartbeak, the VCD malfunctioned, and now is merely a relic. I had wanted to hear it again....and then I found it on youtube!!!
Blessed Are You-- Paul Wilbur
Blessed are You O Lord our God,
Eternity's holy King;
Blessed are You O Lord our God,
Whose Word brings on the evening.
Bar'chu et Adonai ham'vorach l'olam vaed
Bar'chu et Adonai ham'vorach l'olam vaed
By wisdom O Lord
Heaven's gates open up
With understanding You order the seasons;
Creating day and night
Turning darkness into light
Arranging the stars to Your pleasing.
O blessed be the King
To the Holy One we sing
Lord of Hosts is Your name;
O everliving God rule over us
Now and forever the same.
I had heard this song before from the VCD it was originally on. Then, to my utmost heartbeak, the VCD malfunctioned, and now is merely a relic. I had wanted to hear it again....and then I found it on youtube!!!
Blessed Are You-- Paul Wilbur
Blessed are You O Lord our God,
Eternity's holy King;
Blessed are You O Lord our God,
Whose Word brings on the evening.
Bar'chu et Adonai ham'vorach l'olam vaed
Bar'chu et Adonai ham'vorach l'olam vaed
By wisdom O Lord
Heaven's gates open up
With understanding You order the seasons;
Creating day and night
Turning darkness into light
Arranging the stars to Your pleasing.
O blessed be the King
To the Holy One we sing
Lord of Hosts is Your name;
O everliving God rule over us
Now and forever the same.
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