"Blogging is like taking an emotional crap and flushing it into the sewers of cyberspace."

Yes, that's mine. Came up with it all on my own.

The Torn Soul Hides in Dark Corners

"Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one."
- The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

I just had a relationship end. It didn't end with laughter. Or at all well. Rather unhappy words were exchanged and we said goodbye. Probably for good.

As I becry the loss of this short but fun-filled adventure, I can't help but sigh in detrition at the tally marks adding up. Yet another screwed-up attempt at romance. Yet another hurt heart.

When my emotions well up, I experience physical pain. My heart literally aches. And now, I feel the pressure building up in my chest, the sting behind the eyes. It feels as though my body mourns the loss as much as my soul does.

I know it's for the best that this is over. The timing wasn't right, the support wasn't there. Being female, I can't help but confide in my friends and compare stories, talk about relationships and what's going on. He didn't want me to talk to anyone about him.

Ever.

And I just can't commit myself to that. It's not a matter of taking him seriously, or of respect. It's a matter of how women are wired. They need to talk to each other. I need to talk. It's not gossip. It's sharing your life. It's how we connect- through relationships with other humans in the same plight.

"The things one feels absolutely certain about are never true. That is the fatality of Faith, and the lesson of Romance." - Dorian Gray

Just yesterday, I was thinking about the counseling that I went through at the beginning of the year. It did me a world of good. I thought about going back to see my counselor and telling her, "What wonderful progress I've made! I'm in a great relationship, and I'm acting like an adult and everything's going perfect!"

What is God trying to teach me here? It seems these lessons all end in me feeling more cynical than ever. If God is teaching me to guard my heart, He may as well just tell me to lock it away from everyone. People hurt you. Why bother with friendships, with conversation, with community? Inevitably, a piece of your heart will be given away, and when it's flung back at you with all the force of a decent fastball, you can only pick up the pieces and lock it away again.

Daddy, I'm tired of all this disappointment. What happened to abundant joy? What happened to a life of victory? I try to focus on You alone, but You also want me to love people. How can I do that without being hurt?

This is where it feels like Scripture fails me. In all the books written by men, it feels so logical. But I'm not a man. I can't function on logic all the time, and when God portrays Himself as a man through the Bible, I can't connect on that level. God made me female for a reason. But what, I wonder. It would be so much easier to shut off the fountains of emotion.

That's why I envy men.

Gaps In Her Smile

Dear Pauline,

I haven't known you for all that long. In fact, I've seen you only a handful of times. But it feels like you've been in my life forever.

The first time I met you, I noticed the two long white hairs poking out of your chin, the glasses that were too big for your face, the hat that didn't quite match your jacket, and your missing teeth. I didn't want you to touch me. I'm sorry for all that now.

I'm sad that I never knew you before your mind started to fade. They say you were beautiful. You are beautiful. You have thought I was many things. You thought I was Lizzy. You thought I was a mother. You thought I was a visitor. But then, near the end, something clicked in your head. You remembered me.

Maybe it was because you see my picture on your refrigerator every day. And Richard says, "That's Kathy. She's going to Africa, so we need to keep her in our prayers."

You asked me questions. Thoughtful questions referencing previous conversations. No one else noticed this improvement. I did.

Pauline, forty-nine years ago today you married Richard. He's still as much in love with you today as he was that day. I can see it in his eyes. You bore his children. You took care of him. Now he's returning the favor. He wipes the spittle from your lips. He fed you applesauce even though you wouldn't take it. He put pictures up around you in case you woke up.

You didn't wake up. You won't wake up until you're in the arms of Jesus. You're already halfway there. Your soul is leaving its shell and rising to union with your Savior! How exciting that must be!

I sang you a song today. You didn't hear it. But it was for you. Carolyn says you love music. She says you used to dance like an angel. Soon you'll dance with the angels.

I'm going to miss you, Pauline. You were a puzzle piece in my life that makes it that much more interesting. You're a beautiful example of redemption and grace.

With deepest love,
Kathy.

One of those people.

Ever had one of "those" People in your life? You know, the People that just tend to blurt out mean things. You think it's funny. As long as it's not pointed at you.

And then it kicks in.

You get a mean comment fired in your direction and it hits you dead on where it hurts. You feel immasculated. You feel impotent. You feel very small. And that time it's not so funny.

So here's where it get's fun.

You get hurt, That Person gives you some sort of noncommittal apology like, "I'm sorry you got offended," and then moves on. You're still hurt. But Those People have that crazy gift of being able to make you feel guilty for being angry with Them. So, They hurt you. You feel like a total jerk. Then you feel even more angry because you don't think you should feel like a jerk and it's not fair for That Person to guilt trip you when They hurt you.

So you then apologize to Them for acting like a jerk. And They apologize for what they actually said, or how it hurt you. Which is to say, why can't They just apologize sincerely to begin with and avoid the whole fiasco?

Are They really that codependent?

Snapshots of Life

The sparks flew high, leaping over the flames, climbing with the noxious fumes. Each one a tiny speck, glowing brightly from the heat of the fire, rose in sync with the blessed melody of praises, up to the nostrils of God, a sweet fragrance to Him. We sang from deep within our hearts. We laughed. God was there.
---------------

"This Page Left Intentionally Blank."

Why is it?
---------------

"Sing, my angel!" I whispered.
We erupted into laughter as the practice track's organ solo belted out riffs that sounded a little TOO much like The Phantom of the Opera. Choir is fun.
---------------

"Kathy, do you think you will run into Jeff Corwin when you're in Kenya? Because he's there pretty often."

"Yes, Peter. I'm sure I'll run into him on a stakeout looking for albino lions or something. In the middle of the city."

"Well, he is in Nairobi fairly often. You know, I was watching Shark Week. It was quite fascinating. But I wish they wouldn't shovel all this ridiculous evolution garbage into it all the time."

(Peter is 10.)
---------------

At church, sporting my new short haircut.
"You know, I'm just a long hair kind of guy," he said.
"Well, if you like it so much, you can grow it out," I patted him on the shoulder.
"It looks amazing," his younger brother said.
I blushed.
---------------

"Mom, what's lapidary mean?"
"Lapis. Latin for Stone. Why?"
"Just curious. Saw it on a sign."
"Okay. I'm going to sleep now."
"Have fun."
"Yep."
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Things I say a million times a day:
Calm your body down.
That's not okay.
Use your words.
No tattling, please.
Yes, please or No, thank you.
You need to let the bug go.
I'm sad that you [insert offense here].
Do you need to go potty?
No, I won't be your mommy.
You're fine.
Do you think you'll live?
Come sit down by me.
You can get up now.
Go up the steps and down the slide.
---------------

New insight.
Read Philippians 4:8.

Then read Psalm 19: 7-9.

Notice anything?

She looks to the sky

as if he is coming down through the clouds up above.
Though no one can see him, you cannot deny
She is drenched with his love.
She often walks alone.
Never is she lonely
You can offer her anything
Her affections are all for him only.

I'm pretty frustrated lately. With life. Remember the song, "Everything's coming up roses?" Yeah, well, it's not. Everything's coming up skunk cabbage and thistles and poison ivy.

All the day long she sings sweetly
She says he speaks to her mind
She's only rich with affliction
Yet a bitter word you won't find
-Sherri Youngward

I'm not the girl in the song. I cried last night. Hard. It think I needed it. I feel so stoic at the moment, but my fingers are itching to whine. I wrote three emails this morning, and they all felt like complaining.

Started reading a different book, not a novel. An academic book. It's keeping my mind occupied. Not the same song:

Where is the peace I used to know
A quiet feeling that all is well
I knew where to reach, to reach for your hand
Without you my world is my hell

Each day's the same as the one before
Escaping down stairwells collaged with the world
Each step seems to make the pain worse
Each passing sin I lose hold of you

I long to be home where your love lifts me up
I'm tired
Give me strength to carry on

Looking for love makes my heart want
You say seek and ye shall find
Will love be found if I open the door
How can I make this love mine
-Rivulet and Violets

Words for life

In one of the preschool classrooms there hangs a poster entitled, "Let's Get Along". This poster should be displayed in every office, on every billboard, and in every room of every house. Here's what it says:

Use kind words.
Be quick to forgive.
Listen.
Share.
Encourage others.
Take turns.
Think before acting.
Talk it over.

For David

I am so changing my name!

By From the First To Last
hope it's something worth the waiting
It’s the only time that I ever feel
Real Thunderstorms could never stop me.
'Cause there's no one in the world like Emily.

By Bowling for Soup
Emily, you saved the day
Emily, when you threw me away
She was always such a pretty girl
Nobody like her in the world
A little piece of heavenly
That no one else could stand
I see her in my dreams at night
I see you when I close my eyes
I just can't seem to shake you, Emily

By Nine Days
Now Emily hides in a way
She is waiting for a
Knight in shining armor
And I know that nothing I'd say
Could make her see me as a man of honor
But I am

By Beth Nielsen Chapman
Best friends are made through smiles and tears
And sometimes that fades over miles and years
But i knew right away when i saw you again
Emily, we'll always be friends

By Manic Street Preachers
Emily, Emily your gift to me
Emily, a modern sense of beauty
Emily, as precious as your memory:
A simple word called liberty

By Michael W. Smith
On the wire
Balancing your dreams
Hoping ends will meet their means
But you feel alone
Uninspired
Well does it help you to
Know that I believe in you
You're an angel waiting for wings...Emily

For Deanne

At the beginning of Lamentations Chapter 3, Jeremiah is talking about how the wrath of God is being poured down on him.

"I am the man who has seen affliction under the rod of [God's] fury," he says.
"Against me alone he turns his hand again and again, all day.
He has worn away my skin and flesh, he has broken my bones.
He has besieged and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship...
He has walled me in, so I can't escape; he has weighed me down with chains.
Even when I cry out, pleading for help, he shuts out my prayer...
I'm a laughingstock to all my people, the butt of their taunts all day long...

I have been so deprived of peace, I have so forgotten what happiness is, that I think, "My strength is gone, and so is my hope in the Lord..."
They are always on my mind; this is why I am so depressed."

The man is just plain whining. It's poetic, but it's whining. It's okay to whine sometimes. We need it. This world is just plain miserable; it's cursed, and so sometimes we feel like, damn THIS SUCKS.

But check it out. That's not the end. Verse 21-23.

But in my mind I keep returning to something, something that gives me hope -
that the grace of the Lord is not exhausted, that His compassion has not ended.
[On the contrary,] they are new every morning! How great your faithfulness!
"The Lord is all I have," I say; "therefore I will put my hope in Him."

Whine away. We need friends for ears and sometimes for buckets to dump on. But in the end, God's there.

You won't realize that God is all you need, until God is all you have.

I love you, beautiful. You're a princess.

When God Provides.

I've been really tight on cash. I mean, really tight. And rent was due Today.

Not tomorrow. Not, eh, in a couple days. Today.

So I prayed rather severely, knowing that God would provide and then I went to church. My paycheck which I was supposed to get on Friday wasn't ready because the person who was supposed to sign them didn't come in on time. So I talked to my boss (who goes to my church) and asked her if there was any way I could get the paycheck because my rent was due Today.

Suzie said, "Let me see what I can do. We're having one of those months, too, where it's like 'I need it now!' and it's just not there." She ran and cut me a new check, canceled the unsigned one, and got the new one signed. It was more than I expected. While I was waiting for the check to be made out, a lady in the church came to me and handed me an envelope. "Here," she said. "I want to give this to you. Not to your missions fund. To you personally." I thanked her several times and stuffed the envelope in my Bible.

My check in my hand, I headed to the bank to deposit the money. I knew it wasn't all going to show up in my account balance, so I just prayed that it would be enough to go buy a money order. "God, I need $350. Please just make it be there!"

The receipt from my deposit spit out of the ATM. $317.26. My heart beating hard, I took it back to my car and stared at the envelope the lady had given me. Sighing, I opened it and noticed $10 bills folded up. Four of them. $40.

"God, you're good."

I need help.

A couple of months ago and in one of those all-too-frequent moments of temporary insanity, I agreed to revamp my church's website. Recreate, in fact.

You see, the website appeared about a year ago. One of the ladies in the church created it and though her effort is laudable, the result is sad. So when someone at the church found out that I made a website for my previous employer, they asked me to fix the church's. I had no job at the time, and I agreed.

Now, having spent countless hours on it, I can't help being fairly disgusted by the outcome, which I don't even have the guts to upload.

You see, I used Frontpage to create it. I like the program; it's easy to use. I like easy. But when I went on the Microsoft website to check on updates, I was vexed to find that Frontpage is being discontinued to clear the way for Expressions. To quote a fellow blogger, "mother puss bucket bastards."

So now I've been scouring the web for a simple and cheap web design program that I can use to quickly recreate the already recreated website, and that is simple enough for the rather technophobic staff at my church to update themselves when I am in Africa.

So, if you know anyone or any program that can help me, please let me know! I'm ready to shave my head, dress in sackcloth, and cover myself in ashes.

Hope springs eternal

At least once every two years, the sky turns grey, then orange, then brown. A hot haze creeps across the ground like a weed let loose. Warm flaky grey snow falls on us as we exit our businesses and sniff the dark air.

It's always very hot on those days. The air is thick with carbon; our lungs, unaccustomed to it even after several years, rebel against the influx. Sounds fill the atmosphere: fire engines rushing toward the catastrophe, helicopter rotors slicing viciously across the sky, angry drivers cursing each other, each as helpless as the next in the situation.

Fires are part of our culture in Southern California. We're not surprised by their arrival nor are we deterred from continuing our lives. But every time it happens, we get just that little bit concerned. We discuss our escape routes. We plan what to take and what to leave, in case we need to flee the indiscriminate flames.

Rich and poor they displace, violent and ruthless in their fury. The feed on life, on memories, on structure. They consume and destroy; with each piece of fuel the fire grows, but doesn't realize that it's killing itself. The more it destroys, the less there is to destroy. Utter annihilation is left in its path, and it can't retreat across its wasted battlefield.

But when the fires have died out, when the flames become cannibals and vanish, the charred, smoking refuse of their slaughter remains.

Somewhere amidst the destruction, green erupts from the blackened earth. It births a tiny white and yellow sun that begins to sing. The lifesong shakes the earth, sends ripples across the ground, and jolts the great mother back into her life-giving cycle, spilling forth her very being into the grasses, the flowers, the trees that despite the heat have come through and will rise again.

They all join in the song until the sound is deafening. It rocks our hearts and stirs our souls, melts the stars in the sky, pointing us to the Creator.

For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.

Beautiful Words

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.