Sunset Bike Hustle

When I say Help, it's not just skin deep.
Pull out the jack hammers and dig deeper.
Asphalt cracking as the fault line widens.
But I've got my hardhat on and I'm ready to work.

When I cry out, it's from the bottom of my heart.
Looking down into the abyss from above.
But there are no sink holes left to be found.
No cracks in the foundation to be found.

I could be sinking down.
But I'm not.
I could be falling away.
But I'm not.

Flying by with the pace of the City.
The give and take of the Metropolis
Time stands still when I look up
and breathe.

Coming apart at the seams
Is the new together
Absence of effort
Is the new victory.

The Dusty Rocking Chair

Tired of the ebb and flow
Give me some constance here
Where is the north start
Upon which I can hang my hat?
Where is the dusty road
Upon which I can lay my head?
Where is the companionship
To chase away this loneliness?
Where does the river flow
To bring me peace again?
This oasis shifts and sways
With desert tumbleweeds abloom
This is my story that none will read
This is my heart that just won't heal
This is my promise freed
From childish fancy far and free

A dialtone is all I hear
In this symphony indescribable
A swansong of the universe
Rises and ebbs with my heart's cry

I have not forgotten where the goodness leads
The path is not hidden from my reach
But weary hands are open wide
Accepting, resigned, receiving in abandon
With every passing breath of time
As if to say the finish line is near
Wrinkled soul, the price of wisdom paid in full.

Practicing Radical Honesty

This depression comes and goes, and I question my wellbeing.
Swinging from high to low, but this goes beyond clinical.
The walls go from transparent sheers to concrete walls.
Finding it impossible to embrace the reality of the moment.

Self help glorified through faith, but maybe things aren't getting better.
Looking down on my life from above, I see the disorder.
I embrace the clutter of my soul.
I resent the beauty of the reality of discovery.

Balancing resentment with prayerful pleas.
Listening to the lies of emotions long lost.
Impatience becoming the soundtrack of my life.
Losing heartfelt dedications, having lost a part of myself therein.

Taking inspiration from comparison, and dying just a little bit in the same.
Letting my mind wander free in the what ifs
Rejoicing in the chaos that results.

Give me another reality to shield my eyes with.
I prefer the fairytale of teenage romance.
I prefer the confusion of the wanderer.

I'm letting myself roam free
Following instinct, justifying desire, soaking in this colorful grey.
Let's go deeper than before.

Twilight Saga

So I have to admit it: I am a Fan of Stephenie Meyer's writing. Fan with a capital F. I didn't really get hooked at the beginning of the craze; I was a bit ambivalent of the whole overdone vampire story. And being in France, I don't really enjoy watching dubbed movies. But I finally broke down in the spring and found the movie on a Chinese you tube. And that was the beginning.

I loved the movie, not to mention the beautiful actors and actresses and convincing romance. But then, a few months ago, I decided to search for the books online. And I found a very illegal website, which has since been taken down, with the full books online. I cleverly copied and pasted into a word document as I read, and finished the series in about a week. Since then, I have read through the books at least three times each. And I had them shipped to me from the States, so that now I'm not in front of my screen like a total nerd 24/7.

Which brings me to this interesting experience: am I living vicariously through fiction? What is it about this story line that captivates me? Is it the simple desire to be loved like Edward and Bella, is it the discovery of the unknown, the knowledge that there is a struggle between good and evil?

I can't place my finger on it, and it frustrates me. Of course I can relate to the thrill of discovering a new love, but also something about knowing the limits to one's capacity. Like Edward's conflict with their relationship. But then again, perhaps this is adding a fear that shouldn't shroud my perception of a perfect match. And Lord knows, it's not the best thing to moralize giving up your life only to find that life is better as an immortal, that you have gifts that specifically belong to you and that aren't really enough in real life. It's the idea that life could be better only without humanity.

And yet I can think of contradicting arguments already: the humanity displayed in choosing to abstain from killing humans, the capacity to love and receive love, the desire to give of oneself for the betterment of family and humanity.

But regardless of the 'morality' of this love story I still must know: why the heck am I addicted to these books? It reminds me of when I would daydream of meeting Gwen Stefani or Billy Corgan. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be friends with Kristen Stewart or Rob Pattinson. I'm sure we would be kindred spirits. But how can I even say that? It's not like I'm a teenage girl who would scream and faint at the sight of the actors and actresses. It's just the feeling that perhaps, in another life, I could have been like them...

Regardless, maybe I should try to channel these thoughts. I'm so happy to be who I am, where I am, with the influence I have. And I know there is One who sees me, and I'm his superstar actress that he can't wait to hang out with, the one who's captured his eye and heart. And to say that's pretty darn cool would be an understatement.

Donnez-moi de la grace!

My semester is officially half over after Friday. It's been a crazy ride, and I am starting to feel the pace of everything catch up to me. I work three hours on Monday (Junior high 11:30-3:30), four hours on Tuesday (university 10-11, junior high 1-4:30), two hours on Wednesday (2-4), four hours on Thursday (university 9-10, junior high 11:30-4:30), and six hours on Friday (university 9-3). Add to that my 2 hour Spanish class on Wednesday from 4-6, the drama club I am advising during my lunch break on Fridays, the two hour SEO class I teach every two weeks, and the hour and a half commute I do to go to Guebwiller and drop kids off after school on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday... oh my gosh, I can't believe what I've gotten myself into!

No wonder I am physically exhausted. I ride my bike to the university, and then have to go pick up a car some days to drive to Guebwiller. Normally I have finished my 'paper/child' route by 5:30, if I'm lucky, and sometimes I can make it home by a quarter til 6. I pedal around like a mad woman, weaving in and out of traffic with my meager hand signals and bike bell. I could really use a horn sometimes. I try to remind myself that I'm not a car, especially when I'm merging into round-abouts. Those can be pretty tricky. After my time in Amsterdam, I came back to France with an image of how cars and bikes could co-exist; needless to say, I'm now quite disillusioned. So, I ride it like I stole it, switching songs on my Ipod as I try to follow one of the many bike lanes in town. I hate to say it, but I do take quite a bit of joy in ringing my bell at pedestrians. You get the best effect when you wait until you're just behind them.

I've tried to keep a bit of normalcy in my schedule this year. I've continued on with my modern jazz class from last year. If only I could stop munching on chocolate...

But the weather has changed now, so I need the padding to keep warm. It's been a joy to see the colors change this autumn, but for me some of the magic is gone. Maybe that's a reflection on an internal issue, but I just realize that I'm driving up and down the same roads, and the colors have less appeal for me. However, on Monday, I was driving to Guebwiller and there was fog that covered up the entire horizon and road. For a minute, I felt like I had been swallowed up by a pillow of peace. There was no need to keep driving, just roll down the window and watch my fingers stir up the fog. Last week there was a rainbow over the mountains, but it was floating midair. I could see the colors so vibrantly, and it was positioned over the trees in the forest, so that you had to really look to see it. I wonder if I was the only one to notice it.

My colleague Samuel says that the mountains always look different when you're driving into Guebwiller. It's so true: either there are deer grazing in the fields, or the hay has been baled, or the sun is shining differently from the day before. I really enjoy that part of my commute the most.

No talk about school or church now: my two burdens for the moment. But in my 4e History class today, I made a comment about something, and although I am used to the giggle here and there, I was shocked by the loud laughs of the students. Usually I say at least one thing wrong in class, or my accent is wrong, and so a few specific students try to hold in their giggles while sharing the moment with each other, all the while I glare at them and ask them what's so funny. I asked them for patience and grace in French, or "Donnez-moi de la grace." And of course, my students heard "Donnez-moi de la glace," or Give me ice cream. I laughed so hard on the way home. But those stinkers better bring me some 'glace', or else!

Devotional

Today I was reading a devotional online, and it really spoke to me. God has made it clear to me that there are two things in my life that are vital to my spiritual well being: abstinence and sexual purity before marriage, and avoiding illegal drug use. I remember clearly the moment when God revealed this to me. It was in 2003, and I was in my first semester of university at UNC. I was laying on my bed, when God showed me what the limits were to my freedom. It was about this time that I had started using marijuana because of some old friends from NM, and at the same time I was struggling with masturbation. I had just spent a year in a discipleship school, going through a rebuilding period after an unhealthy relationship with a drug addict and heavy psychedelic drug use.

So I had been freed from the bondage of seeking identity through these things, but I was starting to slip back into old patterns. I remember reading about Paul, and the verse where he talks about having 'a thorn in his flesh.' Well, for me these two issues have been my thorns, things that I've struggled with for many years now.

For me it's clear what the right thing to do is. But I also have such srtong desires in me for these things. Ca you imagine being in Amsterdam and just wanting so much to go to a coffee shop? Walking down the street and breathing in the herby smell as deeply as possible, hoping to get some kind of contact high?

But after years of guilt and shame, and so many broken promises to myself and God, I have a new determination to overcome. I know that this struggle is about more than me, and I feel like victory in this area will open up another realm of God's promises for me. So I have made a vow, on a stickie on my Mac, that all heaven would hear my resolve. And I'm holding on to the assuredness that this is what God wants and he will give me the strength to overcome.

So here's to the thorns in our flesh that will bloom into beautiful gardens in their seasons!

Here's the text:

The Greater the Affliction, the Greater the Reward
Wednesday, 23 September 2009 12:00 AM EDT

See what large letters I use as I write to you with my own hand! —Galatians 6:11

Some scholars have suggested that Paul's thorn in the flesh was that his eyesight was deteriorating. Whether it was partial blindness or not, we do not know. Perhaps it was a disability.

Whatever our thorn in the flesh is, and regardless of whether we have asked for it to be removed (as we surely have), I urge all of us to realize that it is there because God says it is still right for it to be there. It is true that God will use you all the more and all the better because that disability is still there.

I once asked Joni Eareckson Tada, "Would you like to be healed?" I thought she would have a quick answer, because I thought everyone asked her that. But it was as though she had never even thought about it! Finally she said, "Yes, but," she continued, "the most precious time of my day is when they put me to bed, and I am alone with the Lord. I am so afraid that if I didn't have this paralysis, I wouldn't have that intimacy."

The reward for being patient and not complaining is worth the wait. It is what helps ensure a great reward when you get to heaven. In my opinion, because of this kind of affliction, when one doesn't complain, the reward will be far, far greater.

The greater the affliction, the greater the reward. The greater the suffering, the greater the anointing. All this is guaranteed if you and I don't give in to self-pity or complaining.

The thorn in the flesh gives us the possibility of a greater reward than we would have had. The greater the handicap, the greater the impairment, the greater the disability, the greater the reward if we don't murmur. Here below you may have felt it was a deprivation. In heaven you will say (if I dare use this word), "How lucky I was to have it." I guarantee that this is the case.

Excerpted from The Thorn in the Flesh (Charisma House, 2004).

Seasons Change

What a joy to have made it through this week! My first week of classes at CD and at the fac went by fairly smoothly. I do however realize how tired I'm going to be after a hard week's work.

It's not just the preparation that gets you: it's also the daily battles that are fought, like refusing to give up on a kid, or trying to enforce rules and regulations with a group of "wild savages." But I am reassured that I have found my place.

My 6th grade class is cute, they're so little and new. There is one autistic kid in this class that is 15, 4 years older than the other students. I also have one boy with an earring: at 11! But there is a light in each one of their hearts. What is the plan for each of them? How will they overcome circumstances to become forged and transformed by the Father?

The 5eme, 7th grade equivalent: this is the class I am warring for. I will not accept that they be rejected or put away and cast off. There are so many things holding them back: discipline problems, inter-relational problems, lack of self confidence, lack of stabilility in the home life. I had a nightmare about this class. It is a struggle to teach them. But I know there is so much promise here. And I know that by the end of the year, the victory will appear. I bless every one of these students.

And 8th grade: I'm finally teaching history! I enjoy it so much! And they understand me! They are hopefully learning as well :). Still, two new guys that came from the public school environment are being enveloped by grace and discipline. What a joy to give love, to not reject students in their errors, but to teach patiently, connecting with the heart of the problem and building confidence with the student. God never rejects us.

So much to write about: Beth and Makeela, the univ., No regrets, taking time for me this year, a life of faith revealed. The image of the REd sea parted: finding the treasures in the sand from generations past, these things left behind that will serve their purpose now. The sam struggle for purity, a new definition of femininity. RECEIVING from the masculine God, becoming like the feminine in God.

This is a beautiful season. Now I must sleep... while I can!!