my blog is neither entertaining, light, or saucy. and it's not intended to be.

this water runs to a river.
the river, it runs to an ocean.
and the ocean, it blankets the earth like a carpet the fiercest shade of blue.
the water runs down, closer and closer to the center of the earth.
where the water runs deepest, so does its color.
the fiercest shade of blue.


i turn away from the river, and i turn for home.
i try to navigate my way back, without the river as my guide.
for it is gone.
i see where it used to run.
how the strength of rushing water, after many years of rushing, left its mark on the earth.
i see it dug out a path among the boulders and the trees.
it ran strong and blue and constant,
but now i see no water.






think about the best thing that could possibly ever happen to you.
the best thing.
don't be shy, don't be humble.
go all out.
the best thing.

well imagining that thing happening-- whoa! --except not being happy about it.
being, unintentionally maybe, ungrateful. and looking forward instead to the next best thing.
in other words, imagining completely missing that moment you'd waited for. missing the significance of the best moment your dreams could ever conjure.

that is my worst fear.

i'm reminded time and time again the importance of captivating the moment. being present. living intentionally. and i find peace. and it's beautiful.


peace i leave with you, MY peace i give you. i do not give to you as the world gives. do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. --john 14.27


peace is right here waiting the whole time, because it's what jesus left to me and you. my family, my friends, my greatest musings or dreams or memories-- they cannot sustain me. i am strong and resolved, only through living in christ.

alan paton + noah and the whale? glory.

i am beginning to read Cry, the Beloved Country.
and i've only gotten through the foreward, notes, and introduction so far. but i already know it's going to be one of those books i can't put down. one of those books that alters my life and changes the way i talk, the way i think, the way i see--- if only a little.


"it is a story of the beauty and the terror of human life, and it cannot be written again because it cannot be felt again."
-alan paton, writer of Cry, the Beloved Country

south africa, hurr eye cum.

untitled, and appropriately so

the smallest, lamest moments make me laugh. i don't know if that's simply one of my idiosyncrasies, or if maybe every human is like that. although there are those don't laugh at all, for fear of truly living or exposing raw character. 


doesn't laughing at a moment sound nonsensical? wouldn't it make more sense to laugh at a joke?
but moments-- they are so undefined. nonlinear. unpredictable. and perhaps this volatility is what makes them so great.
moments can be good or bad or genuinely hilarious or planned or spontaneous or illuminating or completely earth-shattering.
all this simply screams beauty.


mountains in the rearview mirror, laced with fog
a sunglasses swap
chap stick or food? roommate choses the former
one moment, hugs over cumbersome water glasses
the next, hugs that should never break off... but do
and broken elevator buttons
downtown buildings and unconventional hobbies
cats on grocery store walls
and squiggly clowns
poker and pecans
slow loris, wine, eyeballs


these moments inundate my mind, my stream of consciousness.
and in no particular order and no particular time,
they make me laugh.


















from the cowardice that dares not face new truth,
from the laziness that is contented with half-truth,
from the arrogance that thinks it knows all truth,
Lord, deliver us we pray. amen. 
--prayer from kenya

woody woodpecker and alice in wonderland are ballers.

i sprawl out on the floor and drink hot tea, listening to old throwbacks on pandora.
songs from my childhood.
songs i remember fondly.
they streamed steadily, endlessly, always. streamed from the speakers in the suburban my mom drove.
streamed from the radio in the family room.
well, "the den,"rather.
we never called it a family room.
(actually, the first time i heard the term "family room" it confused me. i wondered why the family unit would denominate a room after itself in the family's own home.)

i remember the den.
it was all wooden: wooden floors, wooden bookshelves, wooden panels of wormwood.
the wormwood panels had lots of little holes everywhere...holes about the size of a wormhole you'd find in a red shiny apple.
i convinced myself as a little girl that a woodpecker must've gotten loose in our house,
flown wildly on a rampage,
ruined our walls.

and that made me mad.
so i didn't like woodpeckers much.
not only because of the walls, but also because they would wake me up early in the morning.
a lot.
i remember opening my window and yelling at the noisy birds pecking vehemently on the nearby tree.
i remember watching them fly off when i yelled; they were bewildered.
ah, the sweet nectar of victory! euphoria.

but then............. i couldn't go back to sleep.
thus,
i would go downstairs
to the den
and watch cartoons.

..although i must confess i avoided woody woodpecker. usually.

it's funny the things i remember, if i try. i remember i felt
safe,
secure,
snug as a bug in a rug.


i was snug alright. and i liked it that way.






until one day-- i don't exactly know when --things changed.
yes, things changed.
suddenly, the snugness overwhelmed me.
it constrained me.
i couldn't breathe.

i began to outgrow my surroundings.
the process? painful.
i outgrew the wormwood.
i outgrew my bed, and the many pillows with it.
i outgrew my window, the serendipitous urge to open it and scare the birds away.
i outgrew my mother's music.
i even outgrew my mother.

i outgrew it all, and FAST. it happened just like that, like when alice drank the DRINK ME bottle.

i outgrew it.
all of it.

i outgrew my home.
so i left.
i came to a place where i knew no one.
it was hard.

at first, i failed.

failure.

in failure, i got to know our god: he at his strongest, me at my weakest. ..from a place of complete and utter dependence.
i had a thirst and a need for him. for the first time, he was real.
i was humbled, i grew strong.
i am strong.
i don't know how i missed him all that time; he was there all along.
i guess i just finally heard him; not just listened. there's a difference between hearing and listening.
i felt him there, i think.
i sought him, leveled with him and wrestled with hard thoughts and shortcomings and failures and the need to control and hide and live insatiably, restlessly.
he embraced me and lifted me up: prized, full of joy and love. forgiven.

victory.

i am the reverse alice. she grew small first, then returned to her normal size at the end of it all.
i grew big, too big for my own good.
but i've taken a sip of DRINK ME potion, and i'm back to normal size.
things are not the same as they were; this is good. life is different. different in a good way.
and now, looking back, i remember.
i remember my home, and i smile.

i remember.




philippians 33- everything i've gained is worthless compared to the value of knowing christ. simply knowing him, living him.
i'm trading my life.

i am no savior.

i've decided to revive my blog.
this is the first entry.
there were earlier ones, but i took them off.
i want a fresh beginning.

so this is me, in the here and now.
read at your own risk. 

i don't know what this blog will look like... the dynamics will probably change from time to time.

but i like to swish it up every now and then.

nothing stays the same forever, right?

as i write this i'm sitting under the stars on my campus.

well, i can't see them.

i can really only see jupiter.

but i know they're there.

well, here's the final product:

i am no savior
i wear no belt of righteousness
no sash of prestige across my bosom
i care for no one
i am a danger to the world

in constant flux
combustible and raw
confused and bewildered
i aim to save myself
from myself

from my pride, from my ignorance
from knowing nothing, from knowing all.
being seen as a fool.
like an artist's painting i am an illusion
visible only by sight
tangible to no one

especially not the blind

i have no texture
no super powers
no depth of field or range of motion
i think in black and white.
there are rights, and there are wrongs
morals are simply something to be abided by.
i refuse to compromise
but compromise all the same

i compromise my identity
i mold to the world around me
i adapt
go through seasons, fall summer winter spring
i am day
i am night
i am hungry and i am full
but i am no savior

i used to think i could save myself.
that was my dream
i dreamt it sleeping,
i dreamt it waking,
i dreamt it all the time

i was an illusion.
nothing beyond ink on a piece of paper
flammable
rippable
cutable
waddable
...destroyable

no dimension.

i was my own savior

i cared for no one
the sun and the moon and the stars were my companions,
and constantly so.
they revolved around me
although i did not see them
probably because they were so far away
and i am only human.
they were unseeable by the naked eye,
aided only by telescopes and technology.
i, by my own limitations, did not see



but i caught a glimpse of the sun in the day.
just today it was.
and i see the moon and the stars now at night
they hang suspended in the sky
choked by light pollution from the District and its dwellers

they amaze me still.

and i wonder what they look like in a pure land
one without distraction

i wonder what they look like to the one who made them
he made them perfect
they revolve around him
and reflect his glory
his identity
his purpose
his creation

he is the savior
the savior of all
the savior of me.

i am no savior.

i am no savior!
i rejoice, i am no savior!
he saved me he saves me he will forevermore save me.
save me from myself.
from my black and white thoughts, dreams, aspirations


you give your law as a gift
it liberates
it restores
it protects
it enables
it revolutionizes

it is your love.


...but only when i surrender.

i thought i could save myself.
i thought my studies were about what i'd become
and i became afraid.
because i wasn't becoming what i wanted fast enough
or well enough.
i was in control of my own direction
traveling nowhere worth my while
it was somewhere, but it wasn't the best you had for me
before, i was a hotwheels car, the ones i collected as a little kid.
i ran them on those plastic narrow pieced-together tracks
they did lots of cool loops and went really fast
but they ran out of momentum.

i want to be propelled by someone greater than me.
by a greater engineer than me
by a greater architect than me

god, i desire for so much more!
and i know you won't stand there watching me fail
i know that the second the words
"i surrender"
cross my heart and my mind and my tongue,
you'll take over
you'll take control
and i'll be whole once again.

i'm not going to sit passively by, though
i am going to be an active participator in my life.
what do you want me to do?
who do you want me to see? to speak to? to love on?
i might try to grab the reins,
just warning you.
do you know what you're getting yourself into?
do you know how easily distracted i am?
how wishy-washy, unpredictable, emotional, narrowly focused, and potentially unstable i am?
how much of an unreliable, imperfect, uncaring, cold-hearted, self-focused pain in the ass i am? and will be?

of course you do.
sorry, i forgot.
i forgot you made me.
i forgot you made me in your image.
i forgot your image is real. and perfect. and holy. and complete.
and that mine isn't.
and that that's how it's supposed to be.

you are my savior.
i forgot you created me to glorify you.
so let me do that.
allow me to live another day full of your grace and your love.
allow me to be the moon
simply reflecting your light
..because i'll have no light of my own.
you are the sun.
and i am the moon.

i am no savior.

and i am happy.

the sky in santa fe, new mexico. (if you look really hard, you can see jupiter above the antlers. ...trust me.)