Excerpt from Life of Pi, Yann Martel

"This Son, on the other hand, who goes hungry, who suffers from thirst, who gets tired, who is sad, who is anxious, who is heckled and harassed, who has to put up with followers who don't get it and opponents who don't respect Him-what kind of god is that? It's a god on too human a scale, that's what. There are miracles, yes, mostly of a medical nature, a few to satisfy hungry stomachs; at best a storm is tempered, water is briefly walked upon. If that is magic, it is minor magic, on the order of card tricks. Any Hindu god can do a hundred times better. This Son is a god who spent most of His time telling stories, talking. This Son is a god who walked, a pedestrian god-and in a hot place, at that-with a stride like any human stride, the sandal reaching just above the rocks along the way; and when He splurged on transportation, it was a regular donkey. This Son is a god who died in three hours, with moans, gasps, laments. What kind of god is that? What is there to inspire in this Son?

'Love,' said Father Martin."

I Am Second

One of the most amazing, powerful, and passionate things I have ever been a part of.

The faith of this little girl rivals any I've seen.

Mertonian Prayer

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following Your will, does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore, I will trust You always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Sometimes I feel like life-changing experiences are not something to be ready for.

Because then, if you were, they couldn't really be that life-changing, now could they?
That's like getting ready during a flash flood warning.
You can pack your things, lock the doors, and adorn yourself with rainboots. But, will you ever realllllly be ready for a flood to come?
After the fact, its traces are everywhere. You can see the change.
But before and during,
all you can really do is float along.

i want to write about Harding
i want to write about this year
i want to write something profound
i want to talk about how much i have been shaped
so much so that it amazes me sometimes
how everything has been preparing me for
this
very
moment
in my life.
how i am looking forward to this summer
how much things have changed
how much things will change
how sad i am about some of that
how so very happy i am about some of that

but i cant.

its not enough; words fail

"kiss me on my shoulder, tell me it's not over. i promise to always come home to you. remind me that i'm older; to be brave, smart, sweet, and bolder."

My Heart

burnout

BURNT-OUT (adj): exhausted as a result of longtime stress.

It has been a hard year.
Situations like this are difficult. Because no matter how good one may be with words, no word can envelop the pain, joy, hurt, or expression of any kind that a word attempts to describe.
But that doesn't keep me from trying. Usually.
More times than not, I am silent. Silent through the frustration of knowing that words can't describe. Frustration at knowing that even if they could, people don't understand. People don't want to understand. I'm not supposed to write. Certainly not about what's going on.

But right now, I am showing all the symptoms of burn out.
I am tired of people taking from me.
I am tired of giving, receiving nothing in return.
I am tired of suffering.
I am tired of others suffering.
I am tired of physical pain.
I am tired of being tired.
And these things shut me down. They cause me to coil up. It is out of self-defense. Not letting people in by default doesn't allow them to take from me.

And as I sit at a small table in the corner of Midnight Oil, I know all these things to be true. I feel them more intensely than I ever have. But I also know that these feelings do nothing. They are not profitable for me, for others, for God. And right now, they wont go away. And I know that people can't possibly understand, completely. And that's ok.

Because I sit and reacquaint myself with the overwhelming blood of Jesus. That even though I sometimes get irritable at the madness around me, the hurt around me, JESUS HAS OVERCOME. And tears fill my chocolate eyes, rimming my eyelashes. Sometimes, I run from Him. Sometimes I forget to believe Him. But He doesn't run from me. He doesn't forget to believe in me. And He never will.

So thankful for Jesus who seeps into the deepest, darkest, crustiest crevices of my heart and soul and redeems this child from the depths. So thankful for His promises. For His death. For His life.

My Gemtoe. Whom I will miss terribly.