Talitha Koum

November 17. Na gode.

2009-11-17T20:35:00.000-08:00

1. string bass
2. bass guitar
3. piano
4. cello
5. violin
6. kettle drums
7. accordion
8. mandolin
9. trombone
10. trumpet

November 16. Σας ευχαριστώ.

2009-11-17T20:33:00.000-08:00

1. love
2. joy
3. peace
4. patience
5. kindness
6. goodness
7. gentleness
8. faithfulness
9. self-control
10. flannel graph Bible lessons

November 15. Vielen Dank

2009-11-15T10:51:00.000-08:00

1. Hallelujah! What a Savior
2. The Lord Bless You and Keep You
3. There is a Redeemer
4. It Is Well
5. Amazing Grace
6. Sing and Be Happy
7. Holy, Holy, Holy
8. Greatest Commands
9. My Jesus I Love Thee
10. The Lord is in His Holy Temple

November 14. Merci

2009-11-14T10:46:00.000-08:00

1. staplers
2. printers
3. hole punchers
4. paperclips
5. surge protectors
6. laptops
7. digital cameras
8. thumbdrives/usb drives/jump drives....whatever you call it
9. scanners
10. copiers

November 13. Kiitos.

2009-11-13T14:55:00.000-08:00

1. water
2. cocoa
3. pineapple-coconut juice
4. grape juice
5. chocolate milk
6. soy milk
7. horchata
8. ginger ale
9. raspberry-apple juice from Sainsbury's... we need that stuff in America
10. cream soda

November 12. Dank u

2009-11-12T22:48:00.000-08:00

1. calibri
2. times new roman
3. scribble
4. garamound
5. calisto
6. jester
7. comic sans
8. wingdings
9. apple casual
10. handwriting dakota

November 11. Tak dig

2009-11-11T18:45:00.000-08:00

1. chamomile and honey
2. rice and beans
3. chips and salsa
4. peanut butter and jelly
5. tofu and steam veggies
6. milk and sourdough toast
7. yogurt and granola
8. carrots and hummus
9. pears and goat cheese
10. pen and paper

November 10. Děkuji za pozornost

2009-11-10T17:11:00.000-08:00

in no particular order...
1. Dr. Rankin
2. Dr. Dickson
3. Dr. Gentry
4. Dr. Dillman
5. Dr. Coates
6. Dr. Hailey
7. Dr. Moore
8. Dr. Bennett
9. Dr's. Morgan
10. Dr's. Barnard

November 9. 谢谢

2009-11-09T19:15:00.000-08:00

1. Mrs. Free
2. Mrs. Lane
3. Mr. Putnam
4. Mr. Newberry
5. Ms. Lipp
6. Mrs. Sieper
7. Mrs. Crays
8. Mrs. LeBlanc
9. Ms. Stark
10. Mrs. Bobbitt

November 8. Благодарим ви

2009-11-08T19:48:00.000-08:00

1. Missouri
2. Washington
3. California
4. Texas
5. England
6. Wales
7. D.C.
8. Israel
9. Palestine
8. Massachusetts

November 7. شكرا

2009-11-07T19:36:00.000-08:00

1. green beans
2. asparagus
3. spinach
4. squash
5. onions
6. potatoes
7. zucchini
8. eggplants
9. sweet potatoes
10. carrots

November 6. Gracias.

2009-11-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

1. Eyes that see
2. Hands that work
3. a Mouth the speaks
4. Ears that listen and hear
5. a Brain that helps me understand
6. Feet that support me painlessly
7. Knees the bend
8. a Stomach the digests food
9. a Heart that pumps my blood
10. Lungs that let me breathe

November 5. Grazi.

2009-11-05T20:21:00.000-08:00

1. Katie Ritter - for being born, being my friend, and being amazing
2. 1st year RA staff - when Katie was an RA with me
3. 2nd year RA staff - when Katie was the AD
4. 3rd year RA staff - when Katie helped me be a good AD
5. nurses
6. Shel Silverstein's "The Missing Piece finds the Big O"
7. quinoa
8. pumpkin cookies
9. gmail's video chat
10. friends with which you can be entirely yourself (crying, craughing, snorting, silly)

November 4. Aww-Shucks.

2009-11-04T18:41:00.000-08:00

1. Those songs that get you through the sad times
2. Those songs that remind you of the funniest times
3. Those songs to which you have every lyric memorized
4. The first song you learn on the guitar
5. The song you wish you could play on the guitar
6. The song with the lyric that says it all
7. The song you can't help but dance to
8. Those songs you sing in 3 part harmony with your sisters
9. Those songs that everybody knows
10. Those songs that people make fun of you for knowing (but everybody knows)

November 3. You-Shouldn't-Haves

2009-11-03T21:00:00.000-08:00

1. Granny Smith's long, love-filled life
2. Skipper the poodle
3. A multigenerational family
4. They way my mom loves her grandmother
5. dumplins
6. lawn gnomes
7. homegrown tomatoes
8. small lawn animal figurines with silly names (given by yours truly)
9. catching my first toad in Granny's back yard
10. Blunt, bold honesty - just like Granny's

Granny Smith - may you rest in peace. Thanks for being a phenomenal Great Grandmother to me, and even more so - a terrific example and loving grandmother to my mother. I think she will be a great grandma to my kids because of the way you showed love to her, made dumplins for her, taught her how to sew, and always saw her off to the train. You're missed and loved.

Nov 2. Thankfuls

2009-11-02T18:11:00.000-08:00

1. clean water
2. Granny Smith
3. toilets
4. walking Charlie
5. Alisha and Darren getting a house
6. old friendships
7. Poppy practicing golf swings in the living room
8. cousins
9. Simon and Garfunkel
10. mothers (mine in particular, and all of them generally)

November 1. Gratitude

2009-10-31T22:05:00.000-07:00

If you know me and my inconsistent consistencies with this blog - you know what the month of November means. I challenge you to do your own 10 daily grateful things this whole month. It's always a great process for me, and I would love to read some other lists.

1. hot cocoa
2. yardwork with Poppy
3. the silly but true things kids say
4. finishing a long book
5. friends that dress up in ridiculous costumes
6. the perfect balance of busy and restfulness
7. digital cameras
8. interesting street names
9. Charlie the dog
10. daylight savings time

Edmund the West Texas Architect

2009-10-01T08:38:00.001-07:00

Building a dream on 6 concrete posts
and the determined idealism
of a deep, quiet somewhere,
he tucked his own integrity away into
the very joints and junctures of
a structure. It awoke from his sketches
And walked out onto a plot of land
A certain number of feet wide by
A certain number of feet long by
A certain number of feet high.
He stands pondering schematic incarnate as
the cloud layer dissipates from view and
the sun casts her left arm out,
half-embracing every juniper and mesquite in her path.
Is this less than what he expected,
Or is this little slice of something
Everything he waited for and more –
Dreams, work-calloused hands,
And the dust particles suspended in the suns affection –

There. Together. Quiet. And. Still.

Drinking up chamomile and honey
In the yet yawning moments of new-day.

A Word to the Everyday Gandhi, Che or King

2009-10-01T08:32:00.000-07:00

May your mind be a tool for greatness
As you stretch and strive and search
Never forgetting the time and patience it took
To get you here.
Remember that you too came from dust,
And someday, to dust you will return;
But,
In the meantime,
Future titans
Of clay and fire
Flesh, steel, passion and blood –
Wield your brilliance well,
And do not
Silence the stirrings
Of a great and glorious revolution
In the gray and amber dawning
Of this:
Your time,
Your generation.

Rocketmom

2009-10-01T08:30:00.000-07:00

She fusses over his cowlick,
Spit-wipes the syrupy smudge off his cheek,
And kisses him on the forehead
As he heads out the door to conquer the day ahead,
Swim with the sharks in dark blue waters
Send smoke signals to distant lands
…and count all the stars in the sky.

She passes the time with a few average, everyday tasks –
(Unfurling the evil plan of a super villain,
Negotiating world peace,
saving a few pets from a burning building)
His absence never out of mind or heart.

Then, he burst back through the doors with
Muddy footprints, messy hair,
a new rip in the knee of his blue jeans,
a bouquet of too-familiar flowers held together with a piece of string,
And a million-or-so stories
About how the little Rocketman caught a falling star,
Wrestled a sea monster (Sorry about the jeans…)
…and saved a maiden in distress with a cleverly-hatched plan.

Somehow managing to do it all
and make it home in time for dinner.

The Busboy

2009-10-01T08:27:00.000-07:00

The exceptionally attentive busboy
Wipes down the sticky tables
And clears plates from spots
Abandoned by their patrons
The café is full of mixed company
A little boy
- Still wearing his protective helmet –
Sits fumbling with something buried
Deep inside the pockets of his red shorts
Waiting [however impatiently]
For his mother to return with food
- And, he hopes, a cookie.
The busboy
Makes another round of the cleared tables
Re-washing and re-wiping over the same
Spotless spot he
Re-washed and re-wiped
Just a moment before.
Mom returns with lemonade
And an electronic buzzer
Programmed to notify a guest
[in gaudy-lit, vibrating fashion]
of their food’s consumption-appropriate status
- cold, hot, tepid, blended, whipped or tossed.
The buzzer enlivens, frightening the boy
Who drops his scooter to the ground.
He runs to get the food, as two women
With orange-fake tans sit down at an open – just washed - table.
…Busboy makes another round
Scraping some reddish and gummy-looking remnant off the adjacent table
With the nail
of his right index finger.

New Poetry

2009-10-01T08:26:00.001-07:00

Hey guys - I'm going to post up some of my newer poems from the past year or so. :) Hope you enjoy.

Resurrecting the blog... and whole lot of other things.

2009-09-28T11:40:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since (the rock and roll..ohh ohhh)...
I won't be able to sum up everything that's been going on in my life, and I don't promise regular updates, but I'm giving this here blog thing another go. Why, you ask? Well it seems as though the people I love are spread to the four corners of this corner-less, spherical earth and I want to do what I can to at least make some semblance of me accessible.

And, with how much math brain-ness I'm doing these days. I'm hungry for a writing outlet.

So here we go. Some of you might notice some stylistic changes as well. Bear with me... I'm trying to tidy up this webspace to something cozy, comfortable and consistent with my words.

Sorry for the forced alliteration.

Yours,

A

nov 8 - I am grateful for...

2008-11-09T06:14:00.000-08:00

1. the Boston Commons
2. writing letters
3. LOOOONG walks
4. hiking sandals
5. hot coffee/chocolate/cider
6. gloomy, rainy days
7. playing cards in groups
8. help with grading
9. VanMorrison
10. a good conversations with Dad

nov 7

2008-11-09T06:12:00.000-08:00

10. my family
9. the moral foundation they instilled in me
8. my university
7. the person of integrity it pressed me to be
6. playing a jazz gig at a swanky party
5. belting out Sinatra tunes
4. like-minded people
3. mini desserts
2. dancing
1. youtube.

nov 6

2008-11-06T20:26:00.000-08:00

1. good friends that will listen to me ramble on the phone for too long
2. dogs
3. froyo smoothies
4. fleece
5. rainy days
6. Abilene, TX
7. Boston, MA
8. having someone remind me to do what I do and to do it well
9. giant maps
10. wandering aimlessly down quaint residential streets

nov. 5

2008-11-06T15:15:00.000-08:00

1. V for Vendetta
2. the look on my kids' faces as they walked through the door
3. hearing "obama" shouted throughout the school all day
4. feeling the energy pumped into the place
5. getting all my grading done again!
6. lots of jazz music
7. amazing roommates
8. crunching through leaves
9. having 6 dollars left on my starbucks card when I thought it was empty
10. water bottles

Tomorrow Morning

2008-11-05T07:54:00.001-08:00

The air is thick with the change of seasons.
Cold and thick -
I carry around my jack and scarf
but spend half of my time in a t-shirt and jeans
something new will happen
tomorrow, or the next day
something will break
or something will be built
but regardless
it is new
it is a breath of fresh air
cold, perhaps,
refreshing, perhaps,
but
new.
(and I cannot wait to find out)
(and I am so grateful)
(and I am alive)

November 4 - Election Day

2008-11-05T07:22:00.001-08:00

1. Beautiful rhetoric
2. gracious winners and losers
3. the freedom to exercise my political efficacy
4. songs that work as life soundtracks
5. falling asleep to cheering and marching in the streets outside my window
6. having friends that will stay up all night to know who won
7. getting all my grading done
8. passion and purpose
9. feeling emotions
10. hope.

November returns. Grateful.

2008-11-03T20:53:00.000-08:00

Time to begin (a few days late)

November 3.
1. crispy, fallen, golden leaves
2. hot chocolate in a plethora of flavors
3. ramen noodles
4. HUGE smiles after receiving a good grade
5. knowing I am making a difference at the end of each day
6. being told I am making a difference when I can't see it
7. parents that love and check-in on me
8. friends that love and check-in on me
9. farmer's markets
10. long walks in the cold, fall air

November 2.
1. Friends taking the time to visit from Texas
2. Laura Smith and all her tremendously beautiful idiosyncracies
3. stalling on doing grading/homework for the weekend
4. hashbrowns
5. sweet potatoes
6. good philosophical conversations
7. Daylight Saving Time
8. walking through Boston Commons on Sunday Mornings
9. reading a good book
10. phone calls from my students

November 1.
1. hearing that my alma matter is kicking some serious football butt
2. spending quality time with my coworkers
3. watching the face of my freshman light up when she saw improvement
4. teaching Algebra 2 in Spanish
5. reconnecting to the peace and calm it took me so long to learn about
6. clean, warm sheets
7. random and spontaneous sing-along during the lunch hour
8. pesto
9. packages
10. tea

The current state of affairs

2008-02-24T22:11:00.000-08:00

We were made for a certain level of work. I've been too busy often in my life - and realized the importance of space and peace.... but not yet, till this semester, when things move and undulate between a few once weekly classes and sleeping in on Monday Wednesday and Friday mornings, did I realized how important it was for my sanity to be occupied or at least pressured to do something. Because of a lack of instigation, I find myself lazier than I've ever been in my life.

I'm a lazy, slobbish, noncommunicateur.

in other news:

I'm intrigued to speak to the current class of Political Science majors and see that almost all of us are completely burned out on Politics - what could this mean?

I'm moving to Boston next year.

I've started writing songs again.

My finger nails are longer than they've been in years because I'm not playing bass right now.

_____________________________

You don't
expect me to be anything more
than who you made me to become.
That should be comforting
but many days -
it's horrifying.
You don't
demand anything of me
other than love
that should make me feel free,
but I'd rather have specifics.
You freed me from an unkeepable law
and I live as if I'd rather have it back.
You live and breathe and know my deepest sorrow...
and yet I wallow in my loneliness.
You tell me to act like the child that I am
and promise me an inheritance -
in turn, I stuff my head full of fleeting knowledge
trivial facts, fetching phrases and for what?
in order to forget it all
and return to the dust.
You knit me together and gave me life
and sometimes -
I act like I don't know you.
So here I stand,
me, the strange bundle of conspiracy
and contradiction
knowing that you love me,
intuiting that you will take me back,
certain, from practice and bad habit that I'm forgiven
and yet - I want to hear you say
"I love you."
(with certainty and compassion)
why...
because
even though YOU fashioned me
(fearfully
wonderfully
personally)
I find an identity
a comfort
a consistency
in rejecting my own worth.

Brattles Books

2008-02-14T19:14:00.000-08:00

There is a quaint and unassuming bookshop
Down at number 9 West Street
[hidden in a nook]
Of that cramped and winding part of town
Where the people shuffle by on cold days
With red frozen noses and
Their hands
Stuffed into gloves as
Children pass by
With uncontrollable laughter shouting
…and
then
the
snow
begins
to
fall.
but the little bookshop
-and its outdoor shelves -
stay there.
OPEN for business.
weather-worn books
FOR SALE - $3
True, resolute, and unapologetic.
(Those are the best type anyway)
What a wonderful anomaly:
a bookstore in the snow.
No need for artificial lighting
Or salesmanship
-or fancy coffee
just getting a book
Because it happened to be there…
…on a day like this…
…at a time like this…
in a maze of red brick streets, snowfall,
and the persistent
-hum-
of everycity’s constant symphony
subway-tunnel jazz, taxi horns and barking dogs
everyone going one place or another
beating 2-4 time in clip-clonk shoes
eating and laughing
the cursed, the blessed, the living, and the broken…
yearning to stumble upon something
truly original, truly unexpected,
vulnerable, unalphabetized…undeterred

60 beats per minute

2007-11-13T22:42:00.001-08:00

dance with words little girl
and paint the town your favorite shade
of melancholy, joy or grief
in point-toed satin slippers
slide you songs in soulful
somber stanzas
or quickly cut through consonants
and counted couplets
hear the wear and tear of
old rumpled pages
between greasy fingers
slacked dirtied edges
worn by time
and spine bent and broken
let them read you
breathe you, take you in
and ruminate upon you
chew and spit out
or chew and swallow
digest
and defecate
to return to the place
out of which you rose
to return to a grave
danced over by angels
covered in a daisy or two
a well-smoothed rock
and worn by time
patience
and the ticking
of a grandfather clock
beating the
1..2..3...
of your eternal
waltz.

prayer 2

2007-11-13T22:33:00.000-08:00

Today, I offer myself - broken and incapable - to the service of a king indescribable. May I not seek to grasp His mystery as much to be a part of it. May I find myself complete in His perfection, but know peace in His love of me - despite my imperfection. May I love the broken, the frustrating, the challenging, and the seemingly unlovable. May I act as the hands and feet of my Lord, recognizing I've been entrusted with a great and glorious task and acting accordingly. May I hear His voice in the still moments of my soul, but know His peace and bring it to the exhausting, crowded world.

november 14, 2007

2007-11-13T22:19:00.000-08:00

one - finding yourself pulled out of the rut, or at least the moment when everyone else admits that there in there with you - and it doesn't feel so lonely

two - laughing wholeheartedly

three- not worrying about homework (not that I shouldn't.. just that I'm not..)

four - patience

five - comparing my questions today with my convictions of yesterday

six - seeing a friend grow up

seven - friends that know your awkward 8 year old self

eight - finding out that the thing you need today was something that was in your life 13 years ago...

nine - chocolate chip cookies

ten - reading "i miss you and love you" and knowing that it is meant fully and earnestly

A change of pace..(What i'm thinking these days)

2007-11-11T23:22:00.000-08:00

I want to be better for my Lord, because He's placed His name upon my heart and established my body as His temple. I want to practice fully what I preach and then some. To write in encouragement, boldness and truth.

But to be honest, my heart got weary, my mind distracted, and my soul beaten down and susceptible to Satan's lying entreaties somewhere along the way. The sad part is, I was convinced (though unspoken) that I myself could right the error, stop the train, turn around and get on the right track of my own volition.

I'm tired of this world and want to find a place and a people that seek not only a higher purpose but a deeper vulnerability, love and richness of life in community. I seek the simplicity of wealth sufficient, the abundance of a family steeped in love, the desperate vitality of poverty, the constant hunger of those that refuse to grow complacent, and the contentment of unfathomable peace through a King eternal.

I think I miss the mark and yet I praise God for my bumbling failure lest I become to eager to erect myself a little god among other little gods here on earth.

There are so many things to worship - self, pleasure, self-pity, justice, causes, celebrity, money, sex, romance, the Church, even the semi-god we've made our boxed-in pinioned version of the Lord. I'm tired and feel a sense of my own fruitlessness and the fruitlessness of a Religion and country that preaches fruitless messages and hocks empty sterile goods.

But the truth is - I'm tired of being on both sides of the matter. I'm running through my head at 500 mph these days, and most of the time its in tautological circles.

Doubt -> Guilt and back again.
Pride -> Guilt and back again.
Be what THEY want me to be ->Be what He wants me to be ->What if THEY know better waht He wants? -> Why isn't He saying anything....

In a world that preaches stuff yourself full, store up for tomorrow, try to be a big deal, make sure you save up for a rainy day, watch out for yourself, and don't do anything crazy; I am trying to live out a faith that trusts in manna every day, sings "jesus is coming soon," says the greatest will be the least, promises that it will rain and asks that you give away your umbrella to the homeless man when that happens, loves by laying down a life for a friend, and follows the footsteps of a crucified and abandoned prophet king.

I am hungry for real relationships and accountability. Intergenerational dialogue. Visions. Words of truth and conviction. Perseverence. A love your neighbor as yourself kind of neighborhood. I want our hearts to have the locks stripped from them and our porchlights to be on all the time.

I want to be fuel for a fire that catches the world up in its fury. A fire that consumes, but does not burn. A fire that heats and warms to draw in and challenge.

I want to be so uncomfortable that my skin crawls and I cannot help but live on the name and breath of the Lord.

I want my church words to be stripped from me, and yet for the aim of Christ and the goal of love to infiltrate the very core of my every word.

I am thinking about the fact that I cannot measure up, I will not measure up and I was never made to measure up to what the world desires of me. I am thinking that I don't know where I'm headed, but that I must depend on God - and yet, even when I fail to - he will be there making meals out of the trash heaps, treasures of my rubbish, skipping stones of my rough-edged rejected parts.

I'm ready for more, but I don't know what that looks like or how to get it. [only how to ask]

Nov. 8, 2007

2007-11-08T21:55:00.000-08:00

1 - house plants
2 - audio adrenaline
3 - van moshing with the faux cousins
4 - first loves
5 - car shows
6 - public transportation
7 - road trips
8 - post cards
9 - best friends
10 - inside jokes

Nov. 7, 2007 - thank you's

2007-11-07T21:01:00.000-08:00

1. my tonsilectomy - because it taught me that my mom loves being my mom
2. my septoplasty - because it taught me that God built our bodies in an amazing way
3. my mom's back surgery - because I learned how to make a pb&j sandwich
4. thoracic outlet syndrome - because it taught me how to slow down
5. alisha's accident - because it taught me about selflessness
6. angela's surgery - because it taught me how to pray
7. my back surgery - because it taught me how to depend
8. mrs. leblanc's death - because it taught me to ask the big questions
9. Mark's heart surgery - because it taught me what family means
10. the time i got a fence stuck in my thigh- because it taught me how to laugh

because the distance between my eyes
is the same length as one of them
because the space from my elbow to my wrist
is approximately the size of my foot
because my arm span is my height
and the space between the second and third knuckle
on each finger
correlates to the size of my toes (respectively)
I know that I am
fearfully
wonderfully
patiently
brilliantly
beautifully
and
lovingly
made.
That I was knit together
that i have a Father who has numbered the hairs on my head
and know me and all my scars, and all their stories
who placed a song in my soul
a rhythmn in my heart
made my feet for dancing
my hands for clapping
and a hole - shaped for Him alone.
a fearful
wonderful
brilliant
beautiful
love.

NOV. 6, 2007 - the return to blogosphere

2007-11-06T22:21:00.000-08:00

because I'm grateful - and ... need to write again: (and andy is helping me)
1. vanilla chai tea
2. exercise balls (andy says its flat, I say she's crazy)
3. hooded sweatshirts with extra long sleeves (cause andy thinks I'm a freak of nature, she might be right)
4. brown sugar (finally some affirmation from andy)
5. extra sticky post-it notes - made of recycled materials
6. changings leaves (andy had to give me that one.... meh)
7. clean rooms.... (andy insists.. i probably would not have chosen this myself)
8. capo - call me lazy, but i'll like playing really high on my guitar, and changing keys
9. br'andy's
10. interpretive dancers - you know you like it.
*11. andy would like to add my "teeny-tiny lamp" - the truth is i have it because a girl that was an RA my freshman year got rid of it, and I received it.

Dear God,

You are holy when I have no words at all
in the changing breeze
and in the tri-colored leaves
of early November.
You are present in my sorrow
and in my strength
You are righteous and mysterious
and I am sorry for my attempts
to place you in a box.
Thank you for knowing my broken pieces
and my completion in you.
Thank you for holding my arm
and supporting me
as I walk stumblingly.
You are holy when I fail to recognize it
in the emotions of the moment
in the "all stand as we sing..."
in the bowed heads and clasped hands
in the raised arms and closed eyes
you are there and reckless
even when I'm distant
and thoughtless.
Thank you for loving
my broken pieces
and helping me to love them too.

-Alaina

all I wanna do is praise...

2007-08-14T22:23:00.000-07:00

oh lord god.
great and glorious
highly enthroned up in the heavens
you are
and will always be
and for this I am grateful.

Oh Lord God -
powerful and mighty
you send your Spirit to guide our steps
give us peace
and fight for us
and for this I am grateful.

Oh Lord God -
compassionate and merciful
beat and bloodied on the christ
you died
and rose again
and for this I am grateful.

Oh Lord God -
intimate and wonderful
you mold me up out of the clay
you love
and love unending
and for this I am grateful.

______________________________

may tomorrow and the next and after
be unending days of knowing my worth
through knowing your love for me.
May I love others with your heart,
see others with your eyes,
and do work with your hands.
to you be all glory and honor
humble me, break me,
rebuild me as yours and only yours,
and bring your kingdom - here and now.
free us from depression, from suicide
from dependence on the clock, on time,
on money, on lust, on selfishness,
rid us of gossip, restore us, Oh Lord,
to the radiance you intended for us
as your creatures imprinted with
YOUR fingerprints.
Heal us, restore,
teach us to hunger and thirst for you,
erradicate cancer, slavery, AIDs, loneliness,
psychological illness, health issues,
low self esteem, thirst, contimination,
polution, idols, laziness,
complacency, apathy and favoritism.
Fill us until over flowing -
make us whole, healthy, compassionate,
loving, good stewards, zealous for your name,
passionate, and fully dependent upon you
and your glory.
Father may we live in the deep abundance of a real
true relationship with you.
This day - and always.
Thank you for you love and sacrifice, for you
patience, for your gifts and for listening.
In the name of your Son, who lives to intercede for us -
Amen.

A Treatise on the Dead and Wounded

2007-08-05T22:26:00.000-07:00

A close friend was talking to me not too long ago about his battle with a life threatening tumor during his youth. He had planned out his own suicide, the pills to take, the people to which he would bid farewell if his health were to reach the place where he was forced to have someone else "wipe his ass."

Tonight marks the 79th night that I have had someone else saline syringe, q-tip swab, hydrogen peroxide, gauze-stuff, cover and subsequently tape the surgical wound in my back. Perhaps I should more appropriately point out that the "back" is really "lower back," and by "lower back" I really mean the crack of my butt. (slightly extended, though at this point, the wound is small enough that it is below and within the normal, non-surgically extended crack)

Why am I writing about this on my blog? Because it has been a theme, an inescapable facet of the past 79 days. A part of me, or lack of part of me, that has dictated my waking up and going to bed for 11 weeks now.

I am dependent.

I know, you're thinking sarcastically, "oh, poor little perfect Alaina, never had problems and now this silly thing happens and she finds herself in a personal worldview crisis."

Dare I ask you to indulge in my train of thought, only temporarily.

I can't describe the helplessness and subsequent guilt of the whole endeavor aptly.

I was in Israel, and my back started to hurt, a week later I was in the hospital, only for moment in the ER when the doctor asked, in Hebrew, if I wanted general or local anesthesia.....

you mean???
surgery??
- strange, I thought I was fine. I would be out of here quickly and they'd give me some antibiotic or a shot...

I ate an apricot...I wasn't supposed to eat. The nurses scolded me in Russian and I waited until that night when they took me into surgery. I had a hard time understanding questions and signed my name away on a contract written in Hebrew.

The only thing I remember before surgery is excruciating pain. I was laying down directly on top of the cyst as they stuck the IV into me.... on of the attendings left my left breast uncovered and felt ashamed. The surgeon looked down and covered me I said "thank you," half-sobbing in pain.

"Are you alright?"

(I'm sure I was turning green)
"It's my... ani rotzah... yo necesito... I... I am on top of the... "
....

- "oh, Unstrap her legs!!"
I lift my self a little with my legs, relieved...

That was all -
then I woke up to the Arab-rap ring tone of my gurney's pusher.
I smiled; the smile of drug induced, post-surgery euphoria.
I forced myself to think thoughts, to run through square roots in my head, to list the Presidents of the United States in order....

Washington...
Adams...
Jefferson...
Madison...
Monroe...
(I'm in pain)
....
J.Q. Adams...
Jackson..
(someone help that poor man next to me)
Martin Van Buren...
Harrison..William... Henry - he died after giving a long speech..
pneumonia...

the man next to me yells out and strips himself of his breathing tube.
John Tyler. (Tippecanoe and Tyler too)
the nurses run over and
I sit watching them unable to help.
I wouldn't be able to help anyway.
He's yelling things I don't understand...

focus Alaina...
focus..

there's a woman on my right.
Her bodies in a full cast.
the blood is coming through her bandages.

(do I look like that)

focus..
James K. Polk... - Westward expansion... dark horse candidate...

Zachary Taylor -the last real Whig president.

My senses are coming back to me.
I watch the nurses languidly as they take my blood pressure; scribble notes on a chart and talk amongst themselves.

I'm in Israel. I had surgery. I'm on President 13..
you can do this. You WILL be awake fully soon.
Millard Fillmore - compromise of 1850
Franklin Pierce. I move my hands a little.
James Buchanan. (the man next to me starts to cough up blood)

...Don't stare Alaina... don't stare...

Abraham Lincoln,- he was assassinated, you're still alive
you're still alive...

Andrew Johnson
the machines connected to the man next to me set out in a horrible cacophony of beeps and blares. he starts to convulse as the nurses gather around him and the doctors run in.

... they pull the curtain to my left.
Don't listen. just focus.
Grant...Hayes...Garfield...{another one killed}....
[oh God, this is a hospital, save him for goodness sake! I can see the dancing of fearful blue-booted feet under the hem of the curtain]

Chester A. Arthur.
Cleveland.
Ben Harrison.
Cleveland, again.

[you will try not to notice, try to not remember the sound of the beeping bleeding into a monotonous buzzzzz...]
You are counting presidents, don't get distracted by the man no longer shouting things you do not understand.

McKinley. killed.

.dead.

Roosevelt. [my back hurts.]
Taft - got stuck in his bathtub, poor fellow.
Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, FDR....

they come and check my numbers again, like they're divining my fate.
its just a cut - just a small wound. I'll be fine.

Harry Truman. [Think about all those people with cancer, those losing limbs, those that became radioactive mush after Hiroshima and Nagasaki; think about all the Jews, the homosexuals, the Gypsies and Partisans rounded up and killed; the French starving; the American Japanese whisked away to camps, spat at and stereotyped - my plight is nothing like their hardship]

Dwight Eisenhower - the modern day whig. What a strange thing war is...
JFK - assassinated. ideals. social change. and mercy, those speeches...

Lyndon B. Johnson - Agent Orange and all those young men - drafted and shipped off to die. all the Vietnamese...killed. killed. all of them. for what?
to stop the domino effect?
to quench our thirst for blood, for "westward expansion?"

Nixon. - the day we fell out of the illusion. the shame, the sorrow, the subjectivity, the diplomacy, the scandal, the questions.
Gerald Ford -
"Father, pardon me for my sins, ...
father, pardon that man for his sins and accept him on his way into heaven..."

The woman to my right, with the bleeding bandages, is wheeled away.

Jimmy Carter. the peace he tried to bring to this very region.
Ronald Reagan. the hostage crisis...Bush, Sr. - desert storm and the Persian gulf war...
Clinton - my heart aches. Tanzania. impeachment. the question of moral liability.
Bush Jr. -my heart aches. Iraq. the question liability.

you are cognizant.
you are aware.
wake up.
wake up little girl.

"talita koum" - she wakes from the dead.

bleeding. changing of bandages. home to the dorm. still bleeding.
must go home.
pain.
bleeding.
bandage.
pain.
bleeding.
bandage.
bleeding..
pus.
bandage.

plane. plane. plane.
Home.
Mom. Dad.

"it's worse than I thought"
bandage. write papers about globalization and the Bedouin identity.
bandage. sit on the computer and accomplish not much of anything.
bandage. play with charlie.
bandage. write about the Holocaust and dehumanization.
bandage. write about the psychology of conflict.
bandage. Cyndi lauper and the fourth of July under the arch.
bandage. back to abilene.
bandage. live in one dorm.
bandage. live in another.
bandage. start classes.
bandage. read about rapes, ghosts, wars, death.
bandage. dream about rapes, ghosts, wars, death.
bandage. find your muse in your dependence.
bandage. end your 79th day and start your 80th thinking...
writing..
for the first time
since before surgery.
since before you went to Jordan..
since before you hiked in the Negev.
since before you found yourself talking in the dark of a star-lit night with another guard.
since before you cried, exhausted with questions in JFK.
since before you left mom and dad - with a kiss and a hug and a realization that you would not come back the same person.

you were right. you're not the same person.

but you're awake [dependent] now.
you're alive. now live.

live because they died.
live because you still have people in your life that will wipe your ass for you.

July 3rd

2007-07-03T21:43:00.001-07:00

I'm thankful for good surprises and good friends,
catching up over soup and salad and ice cream,
sisters that will face their fears for you,
beginning to heal,
feeling like i've accomplished something,
reading the perfect passage from the Bible,
hearing the words "I love you"
watching fireworks explode
watching little kids sitting up on their daddy's shoulders
seeing my mom and dad hold hands
being blessed beyond my understanding
a new set of guitar strings
pudding
joy
and special moments
when the world seems to stop for once
and everything i so real that
it breaks your heart
and fills it back again
in the same instant.
yes, moments like these.

exhibition/destruction of home

2007-06-30T20:44:00.000-07:00

I come to the edge of the road
- not a through street -
but no longer with an end
our driveway fades
the house we spent 8 years
and some odd months
building
filling
corners with smiles and tears
and crevices with memories
- and greasy little finger prints
of three small girls
in matching pink frocks
a basement
our basement
filled in with sand and dirt
the place where we played
doctor and house
where i got my first black eye
just a remnant of what might have been a lot
some time, but is now a wasted space
they said it was for the airport
they'd fill it in
flatten it out,
and cover it
they did - and then left it
to be emptied
to cover over our dreams
and childhood games
the thoughts we thought
and the seconds we shared (too short).
now we're old
spread thin
and age catches in the creases of our eyelids
do we still dream and play?
can we still live and make memories?
sometimes i sense of dark and -
mud and of fear filling in the places
where sunshine moments sat with us
playing hide and seek.

contrived.

2007-06-29T21:42:00.000-07:00

between blinks that fight tears
i envision something like a future
where choices made today form
through various derivations
functions and sum equations
a calculable risk of guilt or regret
when words fail to describe my fear
of what lies across the precipice
i do not know
do you? - could you,
would you mind,
telling me?
no, i'm afraid the lesson is in the search
the sweating, in the submission to "no"
so submit already.
"no thanks" i'd rather blink back tears
stomp my feet, and get frustrated at myself
for not knowing how I feel, or what I want to do.
you know what you're doing.
i don't.
sometimes it hurts to want to do everything and nothing
it always hurts, wanting to fix everything.
i'm wanting you to live my life for me
you continue to remind me I'm human
and that your glory is made known in my weakness.

You want an update -

2007-06-14T14:51:00.000-07:00

and I want to be able to update.
But the truth is I've already started 7 drafts and nothing's working.

To update in short: I'm in St. Louis, and working to finish papers. I had surgery on my back and I'm fine.

But the short is too short, the story is what's lost in the concise version.
In the unabridged text there are stories about
long walks down the mountain
meeting new people from all over he world
learning a language
romance
attempts at cooking in a foreign country
heartache
prayer
backache
more prayer
Russian gypsy roommates
subtitle movies
baptisms
closet christianity
learning about the value of smiling
learning about the importance of not smiling
covered shoulders
covered heads
uncovered character flaws
papers
books
sketches
letters
families and immigrants
ovens and olive oil
sandals and ravines
hiking, jumping and splashing through lakes and rivers
walking and praying
walking and singing
walking
loneliness
emptiness
kosher food
falafel
moments of awkward stupidity
language barriers
beaches and sea shells
sand and silence in the desert
amazing transcultural pick up lines
belly dancing
Josephus Flavius
unbelievable revolutions
incredible interractions
and a girl
who's a little different
from the one that set of on a journey
back in February.

my screen is written in russian - so i'm guessing when I hit the buttons

2007-05-14T13:28:00.000-07:00

I am praying for...

2007-04-25T23:33:00.000-07:00

a-America
b-banjo players
c-cat owners
d-Denmark
e-elephant poachers
f-Forty-Niner Fans
g-Gracious attitudes
h-Health Care reforms
i-Individualistic people to reconcile with dependence on God
j-Jello-pudding factory workers
k-kids in Burma
l-Lima, Peru
m-men with tempers and fists
n-Noble women of virtue
o-Ostrich farmers
p-pill poppers and pool sharks
q-Queen Elizabeth
r-Rosie O'Donnell
s-surrender and confidence in God's will for me
t-Thankfulness
u-Understanding and patience
v-Virginia Tech
w-Women raising their children alone
x-Xian, China
y-Yao Ming
Z-Zen meditators and yoga gurus

to surface for air

2007-04-25T09:51:00.000-07:00

to sum up life for the moment
because we all know I've been far too lax on updates
I just got back from Jordan
and I should be writing a paper
on a rhetorical analysis of psycho-analytic
and socio-collective group-think in conflict.
but instead i'm writing on my blog, because
i don't want to think about group-think
the regular students at the university
have been on strike since just after pesach break
meaning they haven't been in classes
for about four weeks,
the overseas students, however,
persist in daily classes,
midterms,
essays,
readings,
homework -
and i must admit I suffer from a bit of a
lack of motivation
when everyone around me is going to the beach
eating falafel
and going home for the week.
I should be writing a paper
for psychology of conflict...
but i am writing my blog.
for the first time in much more than a month
-almost two
alisha and darren are married
I'm going back to abilene in the fall
I will be a peer leader
life in israel is amazing
jordan felt like home - more than israel
I have a bruise on my left hand
from playing with the bedouine children of Petra
I have class until June 7th...
congratulations to all my graduating friends
I love you and I am proud of you.
thank you for your prayers, I am doing well
and every day is an adventure.
you remain in my prayers as well.

do not be afraid, do not give up - and Love abundantly in the Lord.

March 4, 2007

2007-03-04T09:35:00.000-08:00

Happy belated Dr. Seuss Day! (March 2)
Happy Purim!
and
Happy wedding in 27 days to my sister and her fiance.

As for me...

I've finished my first full week of classes and Israeli life.
I'm taking Hebrew and its a lot of fun so far - we do a lot of kindergarten exercises like connected the alef-bet and computer games. I feel like I'm 5 but it's so much fun!

I went to a Messianic Jewish congregation on Saturday evening and really enjoyed worshipping with such a hodge podge of believers - arabs, jews, united statesers, brits, ausies... it was really amazing to feel the body of the Lord coming together from all over.

My roommates are fantastic women and I am adjusting to life outside of the convent at ACU in which I have lived the past few years. I miss my guitars - a lot. I am enjoying getting to cook and learning how to do it sans oven.

This weekend I'm going hiking on a school sponsored trip in the South and it promises to be AMAZING! I love public transportation and the conversational opportunities that it affords.

Things are great - thanks for your prayers.
Alaina

quandry

2007-02-27T12:49:00.000-08:00

I'm tired of causes
because causes often lead to myopia.
So many bad things start of with such great intentions.
So many blunders start of as moves toward success.

Though I ask - does failure make trying worthless? - or simply less palatable...

When people move toward fighting, curing or defeating an issue or problem - they often lose perspective of all other things.
What is gray and maybe should remain so becomes black and white.
Dichotomy is a dangerous things.
When people go around claiming the existence of an "axis of evil" they alienate themselves from life at its deepest sincerety. life in its deepest vulnerability.

To be vulnerable - is worthwhile, though the truth is - it is not palatable.

"so how's week 1 in Israel?" - a friend asked today

2007-02-25T13:16:00.000-08:00

Great. I am here and safe - so stop worrying. I don't have frequent, nor consistent access to the internet, so if I don't update often - please don't freak out.

I go here - though it was a long process - in one piece. I've been learning about a new game called "Jewish Geography" - you know when Church of Christ people sit around and figure out that they know all the same people from way back when? Well its the same way for Jews. How I have it figured I am one of maybe 10 "Christians" of the 90 international students. - but i've only uncovered 3 of us as Christians so far... the search continues.

It's amazing being here - the differnet languages, the architecture... its like living on a cloud. Actually - literally living IN a cloud. Carmel is so high that we are inside of the cloud layer on a rainy day. Today it rained and you couldn't see the person 2 feet in front of you. The buildings are giant, beautiful and dominate the hillside.

I'm in love with this city already.

follow up

2007-02-17T18:45:00.000-08:00

Hey! i've received inquiries from a few of you about my chocolate blog - and honestly had to do some research.... here's what I found.. and i'll keep hunting. :)

Please take time to read the article at this link
"Here's a short (incomplete) list of companies known to sell slavery-free chocolate and cocoa products:

Clif Bar
Cloud Nine
Dagoba Organic Chocolate
Denman Island Chocolate
Gardners Candies
Green and Black's
Kailua Candy Company
Koppers Chocolate
L.A. Burdick Chocolates
La Siembre
Montezuma's Chocolates
Newman's Own Organics
Omanhene Cocoa Bean Company
Rapunzel Pure Organics
The Endangered Species Chocolate Company"

February 15.

2007-02-15T18:19:00.000-08:00

Happy 97th Birthday - Irena Sendler

Rest in Peace - Nat King Cole

Just Say NO: to chocolate?

2007-02-15T10:02:00.000-08:00

I'm not a big sweets eater, but I have my occassional failure - usually involving peanut-butter cups. Lately, my father has been scaling back on his desertish intake and a few days ago I made a sidebar comment to a close friend about cutting down on his chocolate consumption. In context it was more of a joke, but it has become an subject that comes up (in a jovial manner) rather frequently.

So I started thinking about why it is that I'm not big on sweets and what it is that I have to share - because, being a fairly deliberate person in action and deed, I want to know that my witholding from something is purposeful and productive.

1.Let's face it - that sugar stuff - isn't very good for your teeth.
2.Diabetes is rapidly becomming an epidemic in the U.S. and sugar intake causes spikes in encylin - years of the compounded rollercoaster effect can result in diabetes.
3.Chocolate - though perhaps beneficial in small quantities, and with a high quality product because of its antioxidant content - is not particularly healthy en masse. (nor is anything when you come down to it)
4.sweet treats are chock full of preservatives and chemicals that gunk up your body -wouldn't you rather fill your temple full of good, healthy, clean burning energy?
5. I submit before you this article from iabolish.com (you should visit sometime if you get a chance):

"From the Hands of Slaves: Chocolate (Ivory Coast)

Scarfing down chocolate does more than widen your waistline: it also supports the use of child slavery in the cocoa industry. In the Ivory Coast, the world's leading producers of cocoa, farmers have recently faced plummeting prices due to overproduction and market deregulation. In response, some farmers have chosen to cut costs by using forced, unpaid labor.

Young men and boys from Mali, who typically contract with farmers for the season, and suddenly denied their pay once the crop is sold. Others are lured to the plantations with promises of high pay, only to become trapped there as slaves. Owners use beatings and threats of folk spells to exercise control over their slaves.

Victor, a young boy who escaped from slavery on a cocoa plantation, had never tasted chocolate. When asked what he would say to those who buy the chocolate that he helped produce, he replied: "They buy something I suffer to make. They are eating my flesh.""

Not only does the consumption of sweets pose a threat to your system, depending on which chocolate you're eating, you might be supporting slavery. It's not just about abstaining from the chocolate yourself though - that won't help the oppressed people - whether speaking of those caught in slavery or those on the road to diabetes. I encourage you to eat more fruits and veggies - and to share what you now know about the bitter truth of sweets with others.

An uplifting, post Valentine's day post, no?
Apologies to the box of chocolates in the cardboard red heart sitting on your desk.

One Week.

2007-02-15T09:53:00.000-08:00

"How can I help it if I think youre funny when youre mad
Trying hard not to smile though I feel bad
Im the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral
Cant understand what I mean?
Well, you soon will
I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve
I have a history of taking off my shirt"
-Barenaked Ladies

Sorry, it's quite simply one of my favorite songs, and I keep thinking of it today. I'm a week away from heading off for "Abraham" as so aptly, incorrectly and endearingly named by one of the little boys I babysit back in Abilene.

My thoughts at this point are that I'm thankful for the time I've had with my parents, but definitely ready to be out on my own again. I am glad I dropped into Abilene a few weeks ago, but it made it a smidge harder to leave. I look forward to Alisha's wedding, but I admit I'll be tired from all the flying. I am working on a piece of satire for my Honors Class I took in my weekend down in Abilene - and I find myself thinking of everything else. I find my academic focus a little shot from 2 months of reading, researching and sleeping as I like. No doubt it has been healthy to have my first "summer" (though in winter) since I started college. It was a break much needed, but one to which I had to adjust.

It's sort of like grace.

It's free, it's freeing - and yet, we're so reluctant to take it for the break that it is. It's almost as if, as humans we're wired to constantly be attaining something, earning it for ourselves.

Things for which I am grateful today:
1. Charlie's tenacity
2. Alisha's overcomming spirit
3. My mom's hardworking nature
4. Angela's thirst for growth
5. Dad's authenticity

Adieu to you.

2007-02-13T21:59:00.000-08:00

may my life be an ongoing prayer
to the king of undying love
who sent his son and died for me.

snow and thoughts and poetry

2007-02-13T21:33:00.000-08:00

flurried thoughts and free fall
icicles from ends of the patio
i wear the scarf you gave me
and think about why i have it

_______________________

charlie doesn't fret
he never stops to think or
worry about life

________________________

I would like for sin
to be like footprints snow
in moments, covered up

_________________________

there's art on the back of my eyelids
and i see it when I close my eyes
I dream of dancing blue spirals
waves of emerald green
and an orange-reddish hue
I watch the lights and colors
blend and shape
and fade and build
I think its a private lightshow
and while I know the doctors
can tell me about phosphemes
I'm inclined to entertain
andy warhol, chagall and monet
in the gallery
on the back
of my eyelids
___________________________

snow's a sort of magic healer
bending and blending light.
I wake up feeling newness
on mornings full of snowy white.

____________________________

my father thought "mercy"
when he saw the red cardinal
I admire his thoughts
____________________________

Are you could out there?
and where is it that you are?
I went to find you by the bridge
but you, I couldn't find.
Are you could out there?
or did you find a place
to warm your hands and feet.
there so much winter
for a man without a home
nor shoes.
nor food.
is it love that warms you?
or anger from a wrong doing in the past?
bitterness, or guile?
or insanity, perhaps?
I wish you warmth, but of a kind so full
you'll not be cold again.
I wish you shelter, but of a kind that
lends you dignity.

_____________________

some friends give friends things
and walk away with negligence
some friends never give things
and remain an arm's length away.
love is not determined by loveability,
but by grace.
for love is not bound
by condition
or expectation
___________________________

I want you to know
that the way your eyes sparkle
as you get what your getting
and learning what your learning...
I want you to know
that the way you carry yourself
a little more confident
a little more sure...
I want you to know that
everytime you bring a report
of your growing how you grow
and your knowing what you know...
it makes me so proud
to be your friend.
__________________________

don't think for a second
that I can move on
and simply forget you.
because the truth is
when i'm off on my own
and the worlds gets dark
and i feel a bit cold
I pretend you're there too.
___________________________

You call me to dance
and I stumble around but
I still make you proud
____________________________

today, I am experiencing your depth of gratitude
the way it feels, hurts, and breathes...
just to be a friend of constancy
and seeking with all of me to build
with what you've given me
on the foundation that you are.
____________________________

thank you for owning up to me as your workmanship,
and for never being finished.
thank you for your smudges
and your fingerprints
for the way you know the contrast
and the pallette
the medium
and the potential within me.
you work
with the finished product in mind.
_____________________________

Dear Lord,
Teach me to pray by listening first, to love you more and to give freely all you've given me. Help me to want more of you and only you.

2007-02-10T21:35:00.000-08:00

ascribe
to the lord
all your gift and glory
all your talent
all the measure of your goodness
ascribe
to the most high king
your restlessness
your ambition
your heart's deepest desire
and the pain of living lonely
quiet lives
of desperation
ascribe to the mighty one
for his hand sustains
his love is unfathomable
and his grace overstretches
all of what we've done
and what we've yet to do
ascribe to him your gratitude
for what he's done
and what he is
for what he gives
and what he takes
for what he builds
for what is broken
ascribe
and bend
and bow
and pray
and give what you fear
the most to give away

and seven minutes to go and how much of life?

2007-02-08T21:48:00.000-08:00

if i spelled out all my thought filled words
dot my i's
and cross my t's
would you dare to notice me
and listen to my words
if i take the perfect steps
and pirrouette
and dance this dance
would you dare to let me stand
for something more than me
I don't want to be another heroine
or superstar
up here on a pedastal for everyone to see
I don't want to be another saving grace
or pretty face
to look at when the world is only showing pain.
watch me grimace, watch me cry
watch me smile a little too wide
and you'll see within my weakness
every facet of His glory
watch me fail and watch me fall
when I stumble, kneel and crawl
let me be more of a sign than what is signified
let me point you where you need to end
as the end's not mine.

return of the ...

2007-02-07T10:45:00.000-08:00

If I lived in a world where people wore there insides on their outsides things might be a little easier. I wouldn't have to wonder how things really were or worry about how I am perceived - I would just know.

If I lived in a world where hearts stayed on sleeves and minds dwelled within terrarium-like glass tanks, maybe I'd spend less time thinking, pondering, wondering - but would it be less fun?

On the one hand I love that in Jeremiah, God promises to reveal the deep and unfathomable things, but on the other there's comfort in the mystery.

I like searching, but I like knowing.
I like giving, but it's nice to be able to receive.
I love mystery - but sometimes - its good to know for sure.

I suppose - in the insides are outside moments and in the rollercoaster of ambiguous living - I have confidence and peace in the hand that holds me; in the hope that sustains me; in the recognition that God's not done refining me - nor will He be until he sweeps me up to live with Him.

Until we dance before His throne - I seek His face and take comfort that He knows me, when I know nothing at all.

retraction on previous post.

2007-01-23T20:16:00.000-08:00

My apologies to Ms. Angela D. Bearden, my eldest sister and the owner of the aforementioned dog to which I erroneously referred to in a possessive manner.

Charlie is not mine, no do I have intent to usurp Angela's role as his mother, nor my parents in their roles as primary caregivers. Mine is simply the bed in which he currently sleeps and I am only the person with whom he has been spending the majority of his days in the recent weeks. However, I will attest to my role as his favorite aunt, but perhaps out of cowardice, considering I know his other aunt never checks this site.

Again, my apologies go out to Angela and others confused by my previous post in regard to my relationship with Charlie. I thank you for your time and clemency.

Most doggedly apologetic,
Bow(wow)ing out,
With my tail between my legs,
Caught red pawed,

Alaina D. Bearden

phrases floating in my heart tonight. [as my dog snores, asleep on top of my feet]

2007-01-22T17:00:00.000-08:00

-There are too many books to ever really know the once I want to read.

-I like things raw and rough-edged.

-I am turning 21 in a few weeks - Jane Austen started writing Pride and Prejudice while she was still 20.

-I love traveling - perhaps too much?

-Schoolhouse Rock was right: 3 IS a magic number.

-There's something stilling and beautiful about the simplicity of a classical guitar.

-I like the way it feels and sounds - stepping on fresh snow as it packs in under your feet....crrunch...crrunch...

-Timing is the monkey on the back of this relationship.

-Who died the day I was born? - the moment I was born?

-God is big enough to handle my questioning Him, but I'm often too small to handle His answers.

- I like .5 let - Precise V5's to be precise - in all colors, particularly the black... i feel more artistic.

-I am disconcerted by the cult of the cool.

-It is so very easy to become elitist in this world of ours.

-There I go again, dishonoring the prophets.

-Brilliance is subjective.

-Photography is an artform stirring from our human fear of change. We hold in time a moment, a memory - in hopes that a piece of it.... things the way they look or feel... might freeze forever.

-It frightens me to see good causes - moral causes - often outstripping the Cause for morality.

-I find famous orators become idols all too quickly.

- And who will read my posthumously published volumes? My mother, my father? - my handwriting's atrocious. I fear someday an incoherent scribble of my disliking will become one revered and looked upon as divinely inspired genius...

-I want to live life deeply. To dream in abundance. To absorb the brightness of compassion and gain my strenghth from laughing. I want to get drunk on smiles and encouragment, to feel elation though moments shared.

-Poetry is subjective and beauty fades and changes throughout time. But love and hope give scope and depth to them both.

Henry David Thoreau. [Help. I've Lost my Beat!]

2007-01-17T19:06:00.000-08:00

It's been a challenging couple of weeks. Not for any specific reason, but perhaps a jumble of many reasons. I feel a bit like a nomad. My parents in a different place, my sisters returned to their normal lives - and I'm in the inbetween of starting a "life-changing" experience in a month, and trying to get used to a new church, new streets, new sleeping hours - and a lack of 300 some odd freshmen girls.

I miss my coworkers and pals down in Abilene - and I miss my pals down in California. I am enjoying my time with my parents, but I just keep thinking there's something more. I've never felt so very - dependent.

At church I am Mom and Dad's youngest daughter - the tallest, the one going to Israel in February. My attributes are there, and my gifts too, but I feel a little empty. Strange too, I'm spending more time in the word, writing, exercising, reading, playing with Charlie and preparing for stuff that's ahead. Perhaps I don't "take it easy" very well... of perhaps I'm onto something.

I'm struggling to get over me and get engaged with life and living here. Its like a twighlight zone episode - or one of those funky moods from which you struggle to stir.

I just feel disconnected.

Which is strange - I thought I was so good at being the rogue independent one. I guess it turns out we all need someone - or something - community. I think one of the hardest things is missing house church, missing the vulnerability and accountability of that group.

I love my Dad's new church and the people here - but they aren't family, and its not like Sunny Hills where I grew up in the place either. I have been given the reigns of a member, and my parents seek my help in engaging the others - but the truth is I still feel a little outside of the loop myself.

But if its the Body - can there be an outside? Is it a me thing or a them thing - or both? I find myself retreating, though I don't want to. I find my body stuck on RA time - to bed at 2, and then I sleep till I wake up cause I don't have classes. I feel stuck inside because it's so cold out there, but I still don't understand if this is a mood, or a time I'm supposed to be resting or what.

I just am - now what to do with that?
Because I don't live in a world where Walden Pond is something I can do - and perhaps it would be selfish of me to do so....

in search of ministry - or affirmation of a need to rest.

A song for Kara... I had so much fun writing this one!

2007-01-10T15:18:00.000-08:00

It seems I've been trying to dance all alone
on a dancefloor you've built for the two of us
I like to pretend like I'm self confident
but the truth is I'm feeling quite shy
you step in so gently and offer your hand
and you ask with the light of your love in your eyes

"will you dance with me?
I made the moon and the stars
to light up the floor.
will you dance with me?
I'll let you stand on my feet
if you think you need to.
Cause you are my beloved and
I want no other than
just to dance with you."

I've tride and I've tried to learn all the steps
but I've found out I'm lost without you.
I've asked other partners and tried different songs
but my searching has just led me back to this place
where you've stood and waited for I don't konw how long
and you ask, still enthralled with me,

"will you dance with me?
I've waited forever to dance with you
here in this place.
Will you dance with me?
this is the song of your heart
and I wrote it for you.
Cause you are my beloved and
I want no other than
just to dance with you."

I give you my hand and you fill me with awe
as you whisk me around on the floor
your eyes fill with joy as you look at my face
and tell me I'm beautiful.
Somehow between when you formed me and now
you never stopped loving me.

and I will dance with you
forever and always you'll lead me
stepping in time
and I will dance with you
my father my love
help me seek to be led just by you
for this is my greatest romance
and I want no other than
just to dance with you.

Love is-Rael: A reflection on Coldplay; Sometimes G-d gives you a Matan [gift]

2007-01-06T23:48:00.000-08:00

It was a movie, it had to be - no one lives life like that.

Why can't I love like G-d? Why is it that the deepest emotion I can ever manage to feel is related to a male? My heart breaks for the sufferings of the world, and yet along comes a guy and ten times harder he twists and wrings my heart.

I don't understand.
I don't understand why I can sing church hymns with cold and unaffected enunciation even lukewarm self-absorption; but that one song, that one that meant so much to both of us comes on and I'm jello. Seriously, jello, crying, overwhelmed and nigh incapable of expressing my emotions.

Why can I not be more consistent with the ONLY man that has EVER been consistent in my life?

I'm sick of my self. girliness. selfishness. superficiality.

I'm more Gomer than Hosea, did you hear that God? I finally admitted it, okay?
I am MORE GOMER than Hosea [and it makes me sick]

Why am I numb to feeling the spirit, deaf to hearing His voice, and dumb to God's will for me and yet twitter-pated with silliness, all hearing when it comes to witty flirty banter and constantly seeking to analyze and decipher the parameters of a "pseudo-relationship."

Sickening.

Right now, I'm thinking about a boy in Israel and listening to Coldplay and wondering if I did the right thing. Wondering if I could have guarded my heart any better and if I am ever going to see him again, and if I should ever see him again.

All I see in my head is his steely-blue eyes and my fingers falling on the right keys on the piano as he sang me the song.

"and the tears come streaming down your face
when you lose something you can't replace
when you love some one but it goes to waste
could it be worse?"

I remember how impossible the elevator ride up the 5 or 6 flights felt. How, I didn't think I could make it and how I looked at my feet the entire minute or so - how it felt like eternity.
I remember reaching for my key card and almost sprinting to the door, the frustration as I remembered he was in the room directly across from me, the pain as I admitted to myself that I did it again.
"Simplicity" he said. He said that I didn't belong in America. He said he didn't expect me. He said there is something beautiful about people that can write and reach in to the heart of their audience. I thought about his words...
(I didn't think much at the time about how God had used my words to minister to his heart, I didn't think much at the time about how he was like God and didn't even know it)

I slept like a rock - the song the dreams - everything mixing together.

"Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you"

Sharon was in the hospital, we were meeting the ambassador, people were smoking hookas (nargila), I was getting random phone calls, constant political debates, I slit my foot open in the dead sea, - but nothing seemed to matter...

there was a boy with steel-blue eyes and looking at him some how enlivened me and broke my heart at the same time.
If it wasn't for him - I'd have no compassion for Israel, especially not now.
He was the only one crazy enough to understand me.
crazy enough to challenge me to be more.
but I didn't realize it, or admit it to myself until it came time to get on the plane.

It was a movie ending gone the way of the wallflower. No courage for dramatics, and sensible for foolishness.
He hugged me, thanked me, hugged me again...
I gave him my bracelet...
he refused...
he accepted...
he hugged me again...

i fought back saying more and just eeked out "bye.."
turned around and picked up my bags

and then the whole way home...
next to the baby, in between the intermittent naps, orange juice from the cart, small blue scratchy airplane blanket and comming to the realization that I had ACTUALLY been in Israel - I heard something:

"well high up above or down below
When you were too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth."

and it kept going on in my head and in my dreams... then I would wake up and hear the baby or drink some juice... then back to sleep and more music... for 14 hours

"Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you"

it was not about him, it was about Him - God, I was broken and it took meeting another broken soul; crazy enough to make me stop; crazy enough to tell me that there was more to life

"Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I"

I'm sorry father, I ran away again

"Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I"

the band builds, my tears well up, I don't want to loose it in front of the baby and its mother... I ran to the bathroom and stood there - staring in the mirror....weeping

"Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you."

Thank you, for speaking and waiting when I'm not willing to listen...
thank you for always being the one trying
trying to connect
trying to break through my selfishness
trying to guide me home
trying to fix me
thanks for letting me know my worth
thanks for giving up everything for me
....
everything

thoughts for today.

2006-12-16T17:59:00.000-08:00

1. the older I get the more it seems like Christmas is simply a ploy of capitalism that aims to exploit our materialistic tendencies....

2.I think I dislike pack for everything a lot less than packing for specifics

3.I am yet again packing up everything i have and moving it across campus (i've stopped counting how many times this has happened)

4. I can't figure out if its that I love adventure or simply dislike consistency

5. I enjoy thoughtful gives over financially valuable ones - a mixed cd and a bag of granola spread a bigger smile over my face today than I can ever imagine a car, ring or television set doing

6.you're right, I don't like driving, don't wear jewelry and don't watch tv - but that's beside the point

7. you know you don't have a "home" when: you have your passport number memorized, but not your permanent address

8. I don't have to buy anymore scantrons or study for an exam for a delightfully long time

9. my favorite new friendship of this semester: Lisa, the woman who began cleaning the residence hall this Fall. She's tremendous, a loving mother and deeply intelligent - and deeply perceptive. I will miss her.

10. Religion is full of Icons. I'm not sure how I feel about that - but sometimes, I fear we tread near idolatry.

sparse.

2006-12-15T23:46:00.000-08:00

two words:
leisure reading

one concept:
no homework

dualistic mood:
bittersweet

fact to face:
I must pack

only thing left to say:
goodnight

may you be filled and overflowing with peace. may you know the beauty of silence and the joy of listening. may you embrace calm and rest. may you relearn the intrinsic beauty of sabbath.

in pursuit of ends.

2006-12-13T16:08:00.000-08:00

this is the burnout point.
where sentences read over once
and thrice, again
still make no since
this is the place I reach
when I care less about journeying
and more about endings
when home's in sight
and i can pack up and go
when closing time's so close
that it's temping to
wiping down the counter tops
organize the leftover tidbits
pull the plug on the neon sign that reads
"open for business"
this is the time I want a red light flashing
"closed"
or better yet
"no more room"
just there
on my forehead
cause I can't absorb anything else
not even by osmosis.
brilliant or not -
even I have my limits. <--- [here]

finals. stretching. stubborness.

2006-12-11T21:53:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd share what I've been doing today...

It's Sinking In...

2006-12-07T21:38:00.000-08:00

I am okay with packing my bags, pushing paperwork
and trouble shooting the minor snags that come my way.
I am okay with dreaming about the opportunities ahead
and looking forward to great adventures out in the unknown.
What I'm not okay with, but working on is being replaced,
leaving things behind, saying goodbye and all the pesky "what if's..."
What I am not okay with is the sudden realization
that I have to do the whole goodbye thing again,
that I'm walking out of my comfort zone,
that I'm not in control of everything.
That while I'm gone, people are going to grow
[and I will too]
that relationships and classes and new things will start
[as they will for me]
that God is going to work in other's hearts
[and mine as well]
and graduations, promotions, breakups, deaths and births
will keep coming and going
just as they have
and just as they will...

sometimes, it's hard, but good to remember:
I'm human, I'm imperfect, I'm weak, I'm only one.
sometimes, it's hard, but good to remember:
I AM human; I AM working toward the perfection of my heavenly father and made in His image; I AM made strong through the LORD; and a righteous, loving, merciful and holy ONE dwells in me.

Here's to adventure and learning/seeking one's place in the Kingdom.

Saturday at the Tilt.

2006-12-06T22:09:00.000-08:00

I couldn't have been more than four
I couldn't yet tie my shoes
I remember feet, my bright pink socks
and everything suddenly
silent in the noisiness.
I couldn't see where I was going
there were thighs and kneecaps in my way
I didn't have any idea where they had gone
mother, aunt, cousins, sisters -
all six just gone in a flash
I suppose it could have been my fault
I look down for a moment
to count the beige diamond shapes
on the aqua carpet
It couldn't have been more than a moment
what four-year-old has an attention span
long enough to lose a family while examining carpet.
still there were the beige specks
[maybe some pink and white once too...]
I don't remember being tempted to stay and play the games
win tickets or eat more ice cream and pizza -
it seems later in life, when I would read of Basil Frankweiler
and her adventures in museum exhibits
or stories about boys that would live in a zoo...
none of those adventures crossed my mind
i didn't want to be known as the girl that lives in the Tilt.
so I ran - I'm not sure why
up the stairs and into the main mall
out of the dark arcade
it seemed logical at the time, I was following
where they should have been
I think I got about five feet
before the shopkeeper at the jewelry store found me
I couldn't have been further the five feet from the tilt...
she had rough paper towels to wipe my face
and a popsicle, it was fruit flavored, perhaps grape or orange
I don't remember who it was that found me first,
but I remember the way my mom hugged me
like she never wanted to let me go again
but I remember climbing into the back of the station wagon
the rear-facing seat, my favorite,
watching the mall, and then the parking lot,
and then my tears,
and then the chalky throat-knot feeling of being lost
getting smaller...
seeing only where we had already been
as we drove
home.

On days of self-absorption...studyaholicism....and selling out

2006-12-06T17:16:00.000-08:00

I'm having a hard time focusing on much other than myself today, it makes me feel horrible.

But part of it is because I do not care to think anymore of women as soldiers of the Jihad, or of female suicide-bombers, I do not want to look more in-depth at the harrowing statistics on literacy rates and infant mortality rates in Africa or South America. I do not care to research into Sex Trafficking in SouthEast Asia. I do not want to open my eyes to see pictures of bombings, fires, storms, the homeless, the dispossesed, the injured, the ailing, the elderly abandoned and the downtrodden.
I don't care to acknowledge the fact that my country is at war and that thousands upon thousands have died. I do not care to acknowledge the double digit percentage poverty here in this great Christian town of Abilene. I do not want to deal with the fact that I am mired in my own apathy, indifference and sense of futility. I do not want to think about the fact that children all over the world are without parents, meals and warm clothing on a day so cold as this.

I'd rather sit and think about dinner, getting good grades, boys, friends, boyfriends, Church retreats, summer plans, Christmas gifts, what I'll wear to ....

you see its much easier. much more comfortable. to think about the things around me. I have some sense of control over them.

So sorry, ladies enslaved in Indonesian brothels; my apologies to brothers and and fathers and sisters and mothers to those dying and dead; my condolences to you, friend of those faithful enough to die for their believes; and I'm sorry little boy - I'd rather eat this too-much-on-wheat-with-chips-on-the-side alone, rather than share a meal and my time with you.

I'm sorry you're lonely, i'm sorry you hurt -
and I'm sorry I'm too blind and overwhelmed to want to do anything about it...

on a day just like this.

Broken Record Transitions: Nothing's yet where it is to be, nor where it has been

2006-12-04T22:12:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I like to think of life as a single lesson to be learned
a lesson that is learned and learned once more
the kind that plays like a broken skipping record
until I know its every word, its every nuanced breath

Sometimes I like to think of life as a single lesson to be learned
until I know its every word, its every nuanced breath
the way it takes the morning coming once again
to make me feel the end of the day and night before

the way it takes the morning. coming once again
the end of the the day to make me feel the night before
me. I would like to write the words down but I always
get too lost in the song and forget.

I would like to write the words down, but I always
forget. I get too lost in the song
the words go too fast or I haven't a pen
and somewhere in the melody I find a meaning.

The words go too fast and i haven't a pen
but somewhere in the melody I find a meaning
a haunting lasting kind that's gone at morning
the temporally eternal kind that resonates like fate

A haunting lasting morning that's gone at
the resonant fate of both the temporal and eternal
Sometimes I like to think of life as a single lesson to be learned
a lesson that is learned and learned once more.

It's Become Intriguingly More Complicated as This(we) Has(have) Progressed

2006-12-03T09:35:00.000-08:00

a
few more steps before I go
a long goodbye, [a sweet hello]
i never know quite what I have until it's gone

love lost on timing, but not at all; you are
unexpected and what I never knew I needed. I was
ready for my own adventure, ready to take the world by storm, ready for
everything...

anything... (but you.)[the you that comes with this]
then with sick-sweet curve ball, infinite humor, and a
love unfathomable - timing became the theme of something so
enjoyable, i could not bear to regret*.

(aside: I don't know what is going to happen) I have the chance to
vanish, you have the chance to grow
independent of my distractions.
I'm off to learn big things and discover
new treasures far away from here [you, we, home], but I'll miss you more than I want to admit I [n]ever thought I would

goodbye. peace. and love**. [such a thing like this]

*a thing so painfully (delightfully) inconvenient
** congratulations, you're an anomaly too...

50 Years from Now, When Those Pictures Resurface [Happy Birthday Becca]

2006-12-01T21:13:00.000-08:00

These moments are the things of legends
of purple mist and ethereal splendor.
These are the times, gorged on pizza and ice cream,
when we laugh ourselves to silly delirium
and drink soda till our hands shake and jitter,
when we flirt and bat our eyes
at all the boys that come our way,
when we laugh at things that perhaps are not too funny
and speak to each other in a manner perhaps too loud.
These are the times -
when our cheeks ache from beaming smiles,
when our bellies ache from laughter,
when our hearts feel something inexpressible:
the bittersweet joy
of early twenties,
birthday cake,
the ending of college,
the beginning of the real world,
the comfort of knowing each other's souls,
and the discomfort of having to leave such times
to take the step out of happy legends.
We are building tall tales with our seconds left together
and living in this moment of life,
using our memories
to fill in the place between myth and truth.
We are creating giants out of one another
and epics out of four short years,
long late nights,
pints of ice cream,
inside jokes,
and hot pink gaudy dresses.

A Cognizable Cold-Snap Contrast

2006-11-29T23:16:00.000-08:00

Our bodies don't seem to be wired to take sudden drastic changes well. The way Abilene weather shifted from summer-like warmth yesterday to the supposed (and looming) deep freeze of a few hours from now has left people sniffling, dry-throated and searching for clothing they had all but packed away.

From the roller coaster weather i got to thinking about Elijah - and the time on the mountain and the time in the valley. I thought about Job and his switch from richness of blessing to the poverty of the forsaken. I thought about Jesus going from his grand welcome into Jerusalem - and then his Crucifixion in the same city. Life seems full of closely coupled opposites - places of great joy followed by great pain and suffereing; times of food and feasting followed by times of famine.

There is something in the contrast that jars us, shakes us from our comfort zone and forces us to recognize God.

God the provider
God who takes away

Lest we become so accustomed to getting that we think it is our entitlement.
Lest I become so enfatuated with my own self-worth that I forget my humility within my failings.

Lest I allow myself to become content with expecting that which I do not deserve, and ungratefully taking that which I have not earned.

Thank you.
For giving
For taking
For building
For breaking
For reminding me that you are

and I am not.

foil such a tin as this

2006-11-28T23:53:00.000-08:00

she's got rough edges, a soft heart and one of those smiles that makes everyone around her a little bit melty. She's a bit of a rebel, a nonconformist, but all the while too much of a goody goody to just drop that dancing and walk a straight path out the door.

dance card full, time passed slowly,

he questions why it is that life happens in such a comic way-
she wonders why songs seem to capture so much emotion.
[and vice versa]

she likes hooded zipper sweatshirts and wears them even on hot days. There's something about layers that make her feel safe...
he likes hiding behind sunglasses, work, productivity. There's something about accomplishment that makes him feel strong, neat...

[protected.]

She spends time getting into bed, throwing things she's piled upon it back to the floor in a heap. A heap moved once and twice - back and forth

He rebels in a twisted way: by being more than anyone expects to be.
things in order, things just right - as if life was one big puzzle and he holds the last couple pieces in his back pocket
[in a ziploc bag, of course]
for safe-keeping.

he's unconciously crying for something out of the box.

she's unconciously seeking something to clarify the equivocated edges of things...

a heap of something, once moved and then twice

- back and forth

a place for everything, and everything in its place? [or not?]

I should be studying but i'm restless

2006-11-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

I should be learning, gleaning, scraping to understand monetary policy and fiscal lags for my macro test in the morning. I should be reading books and gaining insight about smart-person things: things that all good students know.

- but I'm sick of "learning."

or at least learning as college would have it be. part of this is because I've been classified a senior since my sophomore year; partly because I'm tired of reading about suicide bombers, post-colonialism and the futility of development efforts in some developing nations; and another part is because this week is focused on AIDs and justice and I'm realizing how great Christians are at talking, but not acting. [me included]

I'm realizing how simply comfortable it is to fall into the rhetoric of social justice, social prophethood even, in prayers, in presentations, in advocating without doing much of anything to help the issue at hand.

I confess I'm a cynic, I doubt our ability to cut through and blast away the corruption embedded within the framework of our society. I hear dreams and I scoff - I hear vision and I think, "great for you pal."

Why are we so willing to live lives short of the potential God holds out for us?

Why is it so hard to buy into what he guarantees us?

Why are we content to live in lives of discontent, social gaps, pain, disillusionment, injustice and selfishness?

When did we stop seeking joy and compassion and start numbing ourselves with possessions, the pursuit for longer "happier" lives, and solipsism.

I don't know where you stand, or what you do on a daily basis. I don't know how you feel about your effort at the end of the day, but I know for me - I can give a great spiel about trash-dwelling gangs in Nairobi, Kenya; I can tell you heart wrenching stories about homeless men and women in England; I can talk to you about the mentally handicapped in CA; make you cry with me about blinded, maimed and broken children in the Middle East - I can do all this but I lack the integrity of being a woman of action and truth.

The truth of the matter is: I am detached, but that's only half of the issue. I am both detached and hopeless.
I doubt my own ability to be used an instrument in situations that seem so big and daunting.
I doubt my own ability to let go of the things to which I can't confess I'm still clinging.

So, I'm leaving
Not because I am going to bring World Peace - that's not a single soul's responsibility, but ours collectively...
nor because I think it will look good on my resume.... (though it will)
I'm going because I want to understand people - I need to understand people.
I'm going because I sit in my classrooms, in my dorm room and in my car here and I get numb. I grow accustomed to seeing others in need, but more than that I get caught up and buying things, pouring over research, reading books and isolating myself from faith in action.
Its not so much running away as it is running back to where I should have been all along.
not because I'm smart
not because I play bass
not because I can write

but because I have two hands, two eyes, two feet and a really big heart....

and I'm tired of catching myself use my mouth more than my ears.

Disclaimer. why are you reading this?

2006-11-26T22:51:00.000-08:00

I am an author-poet-philosopher-theologian-mathematical-entrepreneur...
I don't want to be censored or censor myself for the sake of my audience, at least not on this blog. I'm tired or deleting good work from a fear of how the audience will receive it. So please, don't be too quick in your assumption when you read my rants - it's partly my thoughts, some part experimentation with form and function, and often a practice at my own skills and working knowledge of words as medium for expression.
I do not aim to dig or hurt with my words;
though it is possible that I might use them to address, correct, support, prune, promote, or advocate.

I write because I must write to live, to continue breathing, to continue to think coherent thoughts and function.
I write because I have to get things down somehow; things that dance around and bombard my quiet moments unless they find a home on paper or on webpage.
If it is posted -it is not a direct shot at family, friend or foe - it is something I find worthy of sharing.
So if you call or post to tell me you are disappointed, concerned or irked - I admit before you now that I can only be flattered by the fact that you were moved, and perhaps miffed that you moved in a way different than I desired.
This is not the journal of a ranting college female.
This is not the autobiographical spewing of a young woman with nothing better to do and no intent of literary artistry....

this is my living grown piece of art
my work in progress...

unfinished.
rough-edged.

and [though you might not like it] honest.

I'd like to ask for better memories

2006-11-26T22:07:00.000-08:00

Ten-ish years ago I threw a some sort of something from Mary Kay
down on the floor -
pink-capped white-tube,
something for appearances -
I remember it hitting the brown splotchy carpet in time
with my own heart
and my expectations for you as a role model
as my grandpa
- something for appearances -
so much has gone and passed since I let the screen door slam behind me
I remember being angry
and my hot tears
and those funny gasping noises that happen when I am overwhelmed
she shouldn't have had to come out to comfort me
it should have been you, not my aunt
- but you never came outside to find me
ten, and crying
ten, and crushed
- something for appearances -
I wiped my tears away
sucked it up
spent the rest of my Christmas playing n64
virtual jetskis
- things that normal kids do
kids with peaceable families
kids with sisters that aren't in wheelchairs
kids whose cousins don't have cystic fibrosis
kids with grandparents

I wish you could read this and know
who I am and what I am about
that I'm twice as old now
as I was then.
That I grew up - and up - literally,
I'm the tallest of us girls now...
that I'm a seasoned traveller
I wish I knew you well enough to buy you things
in other countries
to send you postcards
to know your favorite color
and for you to know mine.
I think you'd like me if you had the chance
- or desire -
to know more
like,
how much I love to play with words
(the way the long ones dance around on my tongue)
or -
that I play a couple instruments and sing (pretty well, too)
that I'm most proud of the green circle around the outer edge of my eyes
and perhaps my shoulders
and that -
somedays I get so busy I forget to shower or eat,
that I'm well-liked among my peers and teachers,
that I'm quite the scholar, but I don't like to be introduced as "smart"
that I like card games and movies where you have to think
and I'm not afraid of anything [most days]
and that I do my best never to cry in public
- something for appearances -

I'd like for you
to want to know
the things that fire me up -
and what I'd like to do in the future
that I'm a perpetual idealist
and I pray for the coming of the Kingdom and world peace
(every day)

I don't remember much
(after all, half my life has passed)
a red carriage of some sort
small fake people as decorations - they were still my size at the time
your house coat,
- I think it was brown
I remember your washing machine
your driveway
the thud of the pink-capped mary kay something on brown-splotched carpet
hot tears
and a cold december night

11/18 - Day Eighteen - Finnish - elevensies and a culture show

2006-11-18T21:57:00.000-08:00

1. yksi - laundry - doing it
2. kaksi - cereal - eating it (especially with soy milk)
3. kolme - a warm shower on a cold morning
4. nelja - feeling like super macguiver - or at least his accomplice when the ceiling starts leaking
5. viisi - spending time with my sister and her friends
6. kuusi - CatchPhrase - what a cool game
7. seitseman - the coalescing of brainwaves in unexpected CatchPhrase tourney play
8. kahdeksan - Ethnos = getting to see people actually bust a move ON CAMPUS
9. yhdeksan - Break Dancing - reminding me I miss CA
10. kymmenem - Cruncy Peanut Butter - my apologies to those among the reading audience with peanut related allergies

11/17 - Day Seventeen - like... the post-sweet birthday (Eastern Aleut)

2006-11-17T21:38:00.000-08:00

1. ataqa-n - waking up naturally at 8:40 for your 9 o'clock class and strolling in the door at 8:59 looking bright-eyed and bushy tailed (thank you God, my divine alarm clock)
2. aalax - Finding something over which I'm passionate enough to protest
3. qaanku-n - A good friend in Economics - I don't know what I'd do without him. [probably pay attention a little bit more easily]
4. sichi-n - A bright and clear and BEAUTIFUL day
5. chaang - sitting between two awesome dueling basses during Friday praise chapel
6. atuung - Bats in Chapel - they just make my day everytime!
7. uluung - Honey + tortilla = happy belly
8. qamchiing - doodling
9. sichiing - seeing God's gifts in others
10. hati-x - when something you've been thinking about/talking about with one person comes up in conversation with a different person

11/16 - Day 16 - Portuguese, macaroni and cheese

2006-11-16T21:59:00.000-08:00

um - Jazz Band getting to let rip on F minor blues
dois - the color Orange
tres - fallen leaves, amazing
quatro - looking up to see special friends in the audience
cinco - getting to be a special friend in the audience for someone else
seis - Psalm 37
sete - wordsmithing
oito - knowing tomorrow is Friday
nove - watching swing dancers
dez - bursts of motivation

11/15 - Day 15, Russian

2006-11-15T21:52:00.000-08:00

1 = raz - the sad but meaningful realization that I miss my friends from Home (CA)
2 = dva - peppermint
3 = tri - Christmassy things, including music
4 = chetyre -debating the morality of retail profit - Eat your heart out Kant
5 = pyat' - Cherry CreamSlush
6 = shest' - business-not-so-business dinners
7 = sem' - the affirmation of 36 smiling beautiful women of God
8 = vosem' - hearing joy in the words my Mother types, knowing we get to see eachother next week
9 = devyat' - listening
10 = desyat' - random "you're an English major, right? - so how do you spell...?" questions

11/14 - Day 14 - Transliterated Korean

2006-11-14T21:47:00.000-08:00

1 = hannah (ha-na) - voicemails from both of my sisters
2 = dou (do) - lunch in the sprout - pronounced "sproot" (thanks Jordy)
3 = seht (set) - Getting that silly Bass line right for the second time
4 = neht (net) - a good Bible study with a few girls from the hall
5 = daset(sounds like dA-sey) -seeing people get passionate about the kingdom
6 = yaset (ya-say) - microwave pizza
7 = egulp (A-go-p) - my Bicycle
8 = yedoh (ye-do) - God speaking in the wind
9 = ahope(sounds like a-ho-p) - running into an unexpected fan of my music
10 = yuo (yo) - French music :)

11/10-13 - plain ketchup

2006-11-13T21:54:00.000-08:00

My apologies I worked 9-1am shifts Friday and Saturday and was just too plain lazy to catch up last night, so here goes - no special numbers, and hopefully an account of all the graciousness throughout the aformentioned days...

1. Oplin
2. Mission Impossible
3. Praise Friday Chapel
4. Western Shirts from the Boys Section of Wal-Mart
5. Sadies Week - chuckling to self
6. inside jokes as a desk worker in the West Lobby
7. a good talk about cars and God
8. thinking about old friends and memories with them
9. Dancing with old men
10. dancing with the boy I dated when we were in diapers - and realizing how amazing God is
_______________________
11. my two blonde-haired blue-eyed cherubs and how well they behaved
12. knowing I've done a little bit to help out
13. a call from mom and dad just to say "I love you"
14. 3 am emails from Poppy
15. getting an extemporaneous peice of origami from a visitor in the lobby
16. Kentucky Derby Pie
17. Raisin Bread :) (thanks)
18. doodling time
19. making progress in a long hard-to-read book
20. crying, thinking and working my way through thoughts on suicide bombers and a few special friends from Israel
______________________
21. sleeping in and feeling okay about it
22. having some good worship time with me, my guitar and God
23. Finishing the lyrics to the perfect guitar part that had been floating around in my head for a while
24. Tomato Soup
25. making progress on school work and the work load on my shoulders
26. being okay when that progress isn't as grandiose as I would desire
27. bumping into a friend going down the aisle at the grocery store
28. House Church
29. being utterly and ridiculously vulnerable - like a family - at house church
30. chamomile tea, structural integrity and an anticipated chat with a good friend
_______________________
31. knowing you're missed, just the right amount
32. stopping to read the Bible at just the right time, in just the right place - and laughing when God laughs with you
33. seeing the options and amazing plans God has for me laid out before me
34. Sam going CRAZY at WaterBall - you really bit someone?!?!?
35. car rides on the loop with pals I haven't talked to since Freshman year
36. feeling like Macguiver when my roof started leaking
37. answering questions with questions
38. not having to worry
39. good, godly men that respect me as a friend and sister
40. Prophecy and wisdom

11/9 - Day Nine - Japanese

2006-11-09T21:43:00.000-08:00

Ichi - Peppermint Mocha Frappuccino
Ni - a good friend that lets you set in their room and study, cry when the book your rading upsets you
San - much needed 5 minute afternoon showers
Shi (Yon) or Chi - jam time with Kirk
Go - hearing the words "Oral Sex" for the first time EVER in chapel, and seeing Dean Barnard's reaction
Roku - hanging out with my residents from last year and seeing how much they're grown
Shichi (Nana) or Sichi - Water Ball
Hachi - letting go and letting God handle things for $9.50 and 4-6 shipping days
Kyu (Ku) - Nelson Mandela
Juu or ju - fantastic conversations with the WFF ladies

11/8 - Day Eight - Hindi - in international phonetic

2006-11-08T21:07:00.000-08:00

ek - seeing the loudest staff in the existence of Gardner reunited - minus one, miss you Becka!
do - hearing, "you're beautiful"
ti:n - spending time with my Church Family
ca:r - learning about people with hearts for mission work and the Lord
pã:c -making a child smile, really big
c^hai - awesome pictures in rock climbing magazines, and a decent conversation to accompany them
sa:t - coffee with good women of the Lord that hold me accountable
a:th - Johnson's softlotion - Extra Care Healing Lotion + my dry skin (particularly hands) = all better
nau - chapstick
das - Miles Davis

11/7 - Day Seven - Bijago

2006-11-07T21:56:00.000-08:00

modige - phone calls with old friends
mundsuwe - random.. RANDOM conversations with good friends
munyogho - prayer requests
wagene - flour tortillas
modewikogho - political efficacy
namudughe - hearing that other people are troubled by the state of our world like I am
namudsuwe - warm showers
namuyugho - falling leaves of autumn colors
namu-agan - Chai Tea
woruago - having the chance to encourage someone

11/6 - Day Six Thanksgivings

2006-11-06T21:51:00.000-08:00

一 (yi) - Putt Putt Golf
二 (er) - a good long talk with the oldest sister, even when it hurts
三 (san) - listening and following the Spirit - and seeing it bear fruit
四 (si) - prayer time and singing time with a sacred sister in the Lord
五 (wu) - God's timing, bumping into someone when you least expect it
六 (liu) - fresh fruit
七 (qi) - toilet paper
八 (ba) -translating a favorite verse of the Bible from Hebrew to English
九 (jiu) - learning to find yourself holy content in every situation
十 (shi) - a cancelled class

11/5 - Day Five

2006-11-05T21:58:00.000-08:00

one - sleeping in

two - finishing a book

three - some good time in the Bible

four - talking about teenage mutant ninja turtles at House Church

five - V for Vendetta

six - being around friends that I've travelled the world with - and our ever extending family

seven - 9 o'clock devo

eight - John Denver songs

nine - having someone tell me my name is beautiful

ten -rejoicing with a good friend on her birthday

I Do It Again. lyrics. sharing.

2006-11-05T13:47:00.000-08:00

I hear your the God of second chances
underdogs and all lost causes
yet it seems some times I'm too far gone for even you
I know when I call you hear me
but my heart just seems so defeaned to your voice
above the noise
I've buried myself in

Did you ever get lonely on the mountaintop
of in those city streets
cause i do
Did you ever seek for something more
tangible -
ephemeral

Cause I do and I do and I do it again
I turn from your love and run back to my sin
I do and I do and I do it again
you promise your love and I feel like I'm empty
I do, I do - feel alone

I'm tired and old and over confident
grown accustomed to your presence
restless seeking solace and uncomfortable right here
I'm weak willed and broken hearted
but the beauty is your pardon
and through all my weakness you have made your glory shine

did you ever get so desperate for your home
were you restless did you think to run away
cause I do
did you ever feel such weight about your head
that it took all that you had in your to heed the voice
and stay

cause I do and I do and I do it again
I dig my own grave and I heap up my sin
I do and I do and I do it again
I run from the place that you're placing me in
I do, I do - grow accostumed

I claim your the God of miracles
and all these creatures big and small
but in the morning weak and weary all that I can see
are dark cold and aimless shapes
apostate people, hypocrites
and suddenly your greatness isn't great enough for me

did you ever get fed up wiht the feeling
that you're fighting all alone, with a plastic sword
cause I do
did you ever get selfish in your day to day of ministry
and speaking truth -cause I

do and I do and I do it again
I become a pharisee and judge like its up to me
I do and I do and I do it again
I take up my cross to show off my sinful sinlessness
I do, I do - grown cynical

I do and I do and I do it again
I do and I do and I do it again
I do, I do - need you.

Questions. When Everything Starts to Fall.

2006-11-05T10:08:00.000-08:00

[Disclaimer - it's long. I had a lot of thought's. You by no means are required to read all of this, but I pray you would]

I was sitting on a coworkers bed - there were three of us in the room and one of the other RA's turned to me and said, "Alaina, do you even want to get married?"

I paused, a little shocked, and sat thinking for a minute.

"I don't know."

Inside my head I'm thinking, "do I really not know? I mean, that's a pretty big thing to not know."

There are a flurry of thoughts in my head today; about "discretion," patience, eleemosynary, timing, God's plans..... it just keeps accumulating.

I'm sick to death of people worrying about things. I'm tired of finding myself worrying along with them. One year ago, I took everything down off my walls. I was in a state of depression; things weren't right, my heart wasn't - and everything hurt and fell to the ground.

A year later: I'm so much better. With the weather change and the shifting of our temperature control system, the yellow dobs of sticky stuff behind the posters and pictures on my wall have all begun to roll-up - dropping pictures of England, maps of Israel, moments and memories behind my bookshelf, under my bed, slacking over my vanity mirror...

God strips things away. Life strips things away. Satan strips things away. People strip things away.

I watched X-Men III with some friends the other day. I was struck a little numb by Wolverine's march toward Jean/the Phoenix - his skin becomming particle matter and him rehealing with every step.

It must have hurt so bad (I mean, if it wasn't a movie) to have yourself ripped apart on the advance - knowing out of love, selflessness, compassion and desperation that you HAD to do what you were doing - you had to keep going.

"You would die for them?" she accuses and glares - veins popping out of face, eyes detached from the real.

"No," he says...gently, "for you."
(for the purposes of this entry, I will avoid continuing on with the fact that he then kills her)

I have been astonished lately by the concepts of selflessness and motivation.

With school, with relationships - with God - I seek to be a more selfless person, but that is hard given the nature of human beings.

"I just want to be someone's favorite," a friend told me the other day. We had gone for a walk and were chowing down on messy gooey burritos - you know the kind that squeeze out the bottom and end up all over your hands.

I thought for a minute. "You know, I struggle with that too, except a little different." I replied (but I can't remember if my reply was in my head or to her in person)

"I want to be everyone's favorite." The thought made me sad.

I want to be everyone's favorite because its a lot safer than being someone's favorite - or no one's favorite.

I'm categorically "avoidantly attached." I like and find interest in the broken people with rough edges, burdens to bear, and a chip on their shoulder. I like cold hearts, for the challenge to warm them. miffed timing. international separation. language barriers. and major issues to fix. I've always known it, but I'm a top-notch ace at evasively lying to myself.

"You like the people you can't have, because it's safe" another friend told me the other day.

You're right. And I'm a tom-boy because I'm afraid of admitting I have a heart.

But you know what I've been realizing lately? - in my messy room with my memories strewn around me...

I'm worth it. You're worth it. We're HOLY. That the eternal, the Godly, the sacred is within each of us - and we ARE made in his image.

I suppose it all resonated when I saw this:
__________________________________________

Private Voicemail Number
Not everyone is worthy of your cell. Let eVoice take your calls. www.eVoice.com
__________________________________________

It was an advertizement at the top of a friends Xanga.
I read it and thought "How sad."

Should I ever think of someone as not worthy?

I do the same thing - but inverted. I pretend I'm selfless - seeking to help others, but its for a selfish means -I want to protect ME and fix THEM.

But it's not supposed to be like that.
So I'm learning to regroup my thinking, and relearn lessons that I thought I had learned, but really only took shortcuts in learning.

And when I answer, "I don't know."

To questions like "Do you want to get married?" or "What do you want to do with your life?" or "How do you feel about ________?" (insert bombastic current hot topic of your liking)

I answer "I don't know." because I don't - I spent a while avoiding myself as to protect myself, and I think i'm finally ready to let go and really love people.

Not for their potential, whom they could be, or how I could fix them.

But for whom they are - right now, bloodied, broken, favorite, ostracized, interesting, boring - HOLY. IMAGO DEI. SACRED. PRECIOUS. BLESSED.

11/4 - Day Four of Thanks

2006-11-04T20:49:00.000-08:00

un - having confidence in your parents being safe and happy where they are
deux - catching the other half of a movie you had only seen half of before
trois - having a friend bring you dinner
quatre - General Tao with Tofu and steamed rice
cinq - running into friends in the Campus Center
six - having a comfortable lunch with my engaged friends - and not feeling like the third wheel {I love you two so much! Thank you for letting God put you two together!}
sept - God's words of quietness, graciousness and peace
huit - when people ask good questions and wait earnestly for the answer
neuf - a good long chat with mum
dix - brightly colored flowers that stick out like jewels on gloomy days

11/3 - Day 3

2006-11-03T21:07:00.000-08:00

uno) a jam session with a good friend

dos) breakfast for dinner

tres) worshipping in chapel with every ounce of me

cuatro) that favorite pair of jeans

cinco) encouraging words from unnexpected places

seis) carrot juice

siete) singing along to cheesy 80s music blasting in the car

ocho) walking with friends

nueve) Cat Stevens

diez) having the chance to look somone in the eyes and reaffirm them of their worth and value

11/2 - Day Two

2006-11-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

ehad) fuzzy hooded sweatshirts - warm enough and thick enough to block out wind that would whip through a mere mortal's sweater :)

shnaim) singing a good old favorite song in chapel

shalosh) having a random conversation with a friend that blesses you thoroughly

arba) knowing that a concept is sticking into your head

hamesh) having a really good prayer time with 11 of your favorite coworkers and friends

shesh) knowing that your sibling loves you

sheva) the questions that come up in college that you never think you'll ask yourself, like "who am i?" and "what the heck am I doing with my life?"

shemone) hearing someone call you by a nickname

tesha) walking into a warm building from a cold outside

eser) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles I. - and gleaning sagacity from an enormous rat (okay, I admit, an important rat)

11/1 - Day One

2006-11-01T20:26:00.000-08:00

In honor of Thanksgiving I have decided to use a slightly different format on my blog for the next month.
__________________________
I am thankful for....

1. the gift of intelligence and moments when I am affirmed and encouraged as a result of my efforts

2. hazelnut hot cocoa on really cold windy mornings

3. waking up fully refreshed and ready to get going

4. bumping into old friends on campus, you know, the ones you haven't seen in weeks

5. doors of friend's apartments that are always open to you

6. messages, emails, IMs - from friends that miss you and love you for who you are

7. someone to sit next to you in those classes to keep you company and laugh at your scribbles

8. an odd tendency to write in iambic pentameter, haiku, and villanelle when I am bored in class

9. eggs and salsa

10. seeing development and transformation in others

Tutu's and Snowflakes; the quest for the unboring

2006-10-31T22:44:00.000-08:00

I was probably in second grade and had been planning to be a ballerina for Halloween for 3-4 weeks when suddenly, 2 days before Halloween it started snowing - a lot.

I remember going through the neighborhood in a pink tutu, pink leotard, snow boots and a big poofy snow jacket that covered my whole costume.

I was so determined to display my amazing tutu that I pulled off my jacket to suffer the cold at every door. "Trick or treat!!!" through chattering teeth.

I wanted people to see my cute costume, see me for a second being something other than myself.
I'm intrigued by the desire we have to be made new, to change into something different, something other-worldy, even if just for a night.

We get stuck in ruts, become comfortable being Alaina, Bob, Joe, Jane....; so for a night we can be Fairy, Pumpkin, Princess or Witch; just as long as its different.

In the second grade I want to be different so thoroughly that I would freeze my pink fluffy covered bum off on the step of every neighbors house. Just to be different, from me - what's so wrong with Me anyway?

What are you willing to suffer to avoid fully accepting who you are?
What if there was someone that offered a chance to be made completely new, completely holy - but instead of bearing the cold, you had to bear a cross?

Are you hungry for a new you for an evening? Some candy, some funny pictures and then a return to your old life?

Are you hungry for something eternal? A family, a home and a return to your creator and Father?

Enigma

2006-10-31T22:26:00.000-08:00

"I'm just about ready to break," he said, "and I kinda wish I could go ahead and get it over with."

She didn't know what to say, so she shuffled her feet and repositioned her legs.
Knees up to chest, arms wrapped tightly around them.

It had become so cold from one day to the next; it seemed like winter was set in on the heels of summer, no time for autumn.

She sighed - her characteristic thoughtful sigh. shuffled again, legs straight out - left on top of right, crossing at the ankles.

"You can't fix me you know," he said.

Almost without thinking she retorted, "I know." (half out of defensiveness, the other half stubborness)

"I know, I guess I was saying it for both of us; I guess I was kinda saying it for me."(he knew she was stubborn, but that was only half of it)

"Yea..." she thought - followed by a long drawn out silence. (they both knew that they were both thinking too much)

It was cold. She shivered; he wanted to know what she thought he was thinking.

She didn't really care any longer, except that she cared a little too much.

There are things that time, space, learning, heartache, traveling and hours of conversation never seem to remove, explain away or bring about.
There are connections too deep to be denied away.
There are things that can't be thought through.
...they keep life interesting.

Thoughts on October 30

2006-10-30T22:45:00.000-08:00

to Ezra Pound upon his day of birth.
and me in a brown sweater and green shirt
the beginnings of the cable car.
and closed toed shoes for the first time all year
and the beginning of death for Anne Frank.
to noticing that my hair is getting longer with time
the end of James S. Sherman,
....no one ever did remember Vice Presidents anyway...
a feast for St. Herbert,
and a prayer for good friends at the end of the day
RIP Jam Master Jay,
and a wish that murder never had to happen
the beginning of the Madrid Conference - dreams of
peace - may they be realized.