Apologies for the hiatus, to whoever uses this blog to access my xanga.

The semester is almost over, and I have one week left in Spokane until next September, coincidentally, just a few days before my 21st birthday. I had a really light semester which allowed me to do more things that are more fulfilling than school. I’ve been tutoring refugee high school students in math. Its been glorious, and has made me want to be a teacher in a refugee camp. I’ll take my CBEST and CSET this summer and hopefully be able to substitute teach. and then I’ll graduate, and figure out what I want to do with my life. Maybe do Peace Corps. Maybe Teach for America. Maybe go somewhere in CA and work/get credential. Maybe work at FIRM. That would be sweet actually, if I could work at FIRM and also go to school for a credential.  I don’t think I could do school without outside work with real people to get me through.

There is more about me I’m sure. I’ve been having good conversations with Iveth all year, but especially in the last few weeks. I’m gonna miss her like no other when I’m gone.  Its also hitting me how many people are graduating/leaving this year, who quite possibly, I’ll never see again. Eesh.

To all boys who may or may not be reading this:
if you say you’re gonna call, you best call.
if you think you can drop in and out of someone else’s life, you best get some good apologies to precede whatever it is that is so important.
if you start reminiscing, keep it to yourself.
if you want to start recommunicating, do something a little less public than a facebook wall
if you have a girlfriend, stay the hell away from me and all other exes. it just makes life easier for all involved.
if you’re gonna sign your name at the end of a note, don’t even think the word love.

thanks buddy.
you’re always there for me….

this year HAS to be different

I feel like its gonna be the same as last year

same kaitie

same kaitie tyler drama

same lack of sun   (already… its supposed to still be summer here)

same fake relationship with ballardia… and kaitie… and probably everyone

i want to go home to stuart. i want to go home to Fresno. I want to go home to FIRM. I don’t want to be here right now.

how do I change all those so that I am present in the here and now, not living in memories, or dread of the now. How do I look forward to the future. look forward to SA, to a career, to serving people, to meeting new people? how do i change either my present situation or my relationship to the present situation so that I can be happy?

I’m not going through another semester like last spring.

i like jesus. he makes me smile

I am in love.

I am loved.

I feel it in the pit of my stomach, the disbelieving smile spread across my face as I roll my eyes and shake my head. The antsy leg movements. The dancing and singing as I play music so loudly while no one else is home.

This I know is true.

I am a beloved daughter of God. And his grace is more than enough for all that I do (and forget to do, too). And I am freed by Him, to not depend on all you people here on earth for approval and satisfaction. But I need you, to practice Love with. So we can support each other and grow up into His Kingdom.

Theres this boy that I know. and once Loved/enjoyed/liked ….. loved. and he still makes me happy. and we still click really well.

its funny though. because i go crazy if i get obsessive about a boy. and i start needing boy around at all times for reassurance and help and love and emotional stability. but when i have my Jesus with me. and my Jesus as “number 1″ or whatever cheesy saying you want to insert there, then i enjoy people a whole lot more (and boy too). I don’t know if that’s how its supposed to work. i thought i was supposed to be better with Jesus when i didn’t have boy around to distract me? so then i wonder if i’m projecting my love and being loved onto Jesus when I really am just dependent on someone here loving me. (not that theres love in the equation with boy right now) so i dunno. thoughts?

in other news. these are quotes from sojourners that make me happy.

God cares for the poor, so should I. God cares for the stranger, so should I. God cares for creation, so should I. God cares for the orphan, so should I. God cares for people who don’t vote like me, so should I. God cares…so should I.

It sounds so simple to seek first the Kingdom of God. I make it very complicated.

and

The world is looking for saints to pray with who have known the depths of weakness, because that’s where this world is. It doesn’t want light, fluffy spirituality. It wants to kneel next to the Jobs who have seen the face of God. And that’s what we as a Christian community can be for the hurting. Out pain and suffering are not some kind of spiritual liability. They’re how God positions us to bless others.”

This speaks to me in that I don’t have to be ashamed of my weakness–that God can use it to help others that are hurting. …  We can be so much more effective when we can pull from the depths of our souls the pains and trials we have suffered, and at the same time extend the hope that everyone deserves. We have a Savior to back us up.

and one more

I am trying to work on my own struggle to overcome my culturally acceptable addiction to wealth (often glossed over as “practicality” or “security”) with a theology of enough.

eesh. That is what i need to get better at doing. I’m not making any money this summer, except for Keola. And I’m not quite sure how that is going to work out for me. I feel really at peace about it, but i don’t know if that is laziness or just the way it is. I have a job in Spokane, itll bring me like 500 over the semester. i think i need another job, but i want to do World Relief too. I dunno. Money would be good for that. but i dunno. money. so gross. i want it not to be necessary. thatd be bomb. i don’t mind working.

LOVE is the answer. even when i’m not quite sure what the answer is. I feel like I have been out of the way of Love for a while now. And I don’t know why I’ve been so bitter and angry and notLove. but I want to be different. I want to Love these kids that come running into firm every day. i want to love my family. i want to love my friends (i praycried for a few of them today. i haven’t done that for a while). i want to grow up to be a Truth speaker in Love. I have disengaged from that, and a lot of other possible aspects of what i think my calling is. I need to press in. onward and upward!!

Love. love love love.

and not get distracted and caught up in whatever else there might be.

LOVE

Dear Daddy,

I know you used to read this, and that really kinda freaked me out for a while, but its surprisingly late for me, and today has been a teary sort of day, so forgive me if and when i probably offend you and make you go defensive.

Daddy, I stumbled upon Jamie’s blog today. I read like the past 5 or six months. Probably more. Daddy, I know you love her. Just like Dr. Bernstein said, I really have grown to a place of acceptance without needing approval. Its the way it is.

Daddy, I still want you to be My daddy though. I saw the pictures from the cabin. When you went with all the fucking people in her family. And I wasn’t there. And Kyle wasn’t there. I saw the pictures from Thanksgiving and God knows when else. And Nates there, and Kims there. and Everyone is happy and smiling in your pictures.

There is one picture of me Daddy. There is one picture.

And I look chubby in it.

I hate how much weight I’ve gained over the past year.

I don’t know if normal 19 year olds talk to their fathers about that sort of thing. I wouldn’t have any opportunity of knowing. And yes, I guess I am still hurt that you left. and yes, I still feel like you just replaced your real family with some pseudo-ready made smile for the camera family. I know moms no fun. I live with her still, remember. I know shes stubborn and bitchy and not very consistant. Guess what? She’s worse by herself.

The stress of Kyle and raising Kyle is too much for one person to do. Its just the two of them there. i’m doing the normal thing of going off to college. but I’m also the other parent. I get to raise Kyle too. I get to talk to him. (I love him, but its my job to be a sister not super-Parent). I get to listen to him cry. i get to hear him rant. and I get to encourage him on his homework. And I get to try and pull him out of his bad days. and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I imitate mom more than I would probably like. Dad, do you see him on his bad days? They scare me so much, and all i want is to save him. But I CAN’T. and it hurts so bad.

After I talk to Kyle, and usually before. I talk to Mom. She tells me her side. She tells me how hard shes trying. Sometimes I think she runs her parenting decisions by me for validation. I don’t want to be a mother to my mother, dad. You wanna know the one thing I hate more than anything else on this planet? Hearing my momma cry.
How do you manage to do it so consistently to your mother? doesn’t that make you want to die inside?

I don’t understand what alls happened to me Daddy. I know that there are a lot of people in this world who have gone through a lot worse. With that in mind, I still don’t understand how it is humanly possible to cry this much. Have you seen me cry? did that make you cringe and hurt inside? maybe it only hurts you when Jamie cries.

Dear Daddy. I don’t believe God’s promises for the future. He loves me enough to let me see him and feel him in the now enough that I can look back and see him in my past. I am alive Daddy. Your son is alive. You can only thank your God for that, because if we had had our own individual ways, i can tell you our blood would be long stained on that hardwood floor upstairs.

Daddy. I tried really hard to make it home tonight for the movie. I drove safe. I drove in control. I even checked my oil. All the stuff I thought I was supposed to do. I woke Kyle up out of a stupor. He was pretty depressed. I tried everything I could to make him better, if just for the next 12 hours, so he can pass his SATs and do well tomorrow morning. I got him up and talking and changing his clothes. We were in the car, we were studying. He backed out at the last minute, but instead of seeing if anything was wrong, or how my trip was or if the car had been fine, you told me maybe some other time.

I know you can’t read minds, but I really wish that you could have invited me over to eat. Or called me later. Or checked on Kyle. I know you’re probably sore because we spoiled the event you tried so hard to plan. But we’re sorry.

Maybe some other time itll work out better.

i’m sure time with your family was fun.

fuck you dad. Daddy. daddy. daddy. why am i still crying over something you’re so clearly over?

Home without purpose

Going to Whitworth makes it really easy for me to know theology. or debate theology.

Coming home to Fresno makes it really easy to not think

My Jesus doesn’t want either of those options for me, I don’t think.

When I was in Seattle I went to a seminar on Rhythms of Grace, taught by a truly graceful woman by the name of Christine Sine. She quoted the Message, in Matthew 11,

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly

That light and free living, sounds like cs lewis’ dance from Perelandra. The dance we were created to be a part of. When I am dancing well, I feel like I am glowing. I am filled with joy and understanding and wisdom and can bear grief so much better. I don’t know that I’ve glowed recently.

I talked to my mom recently about depression. My beloved KyKy is on medication for his depression now. she thinks i might be better off and happier at Whitworth if I maybe tried them too. She said I could try it for as short of a year. My immediate response was No. NO no no. I had a visceral response. The only reason I could come up with was that Kissel told me not to. Kissel says thats part of life, learning to deal with what comes your way. Kissel says that if you turn to medication to make bad stuff go away, the next time something bad comes, itll just take more and more to make it disappear. we build up tolerance, and then we crash. just like caffeine or any other drug.

Why is it okay for Kyle, supported for Kyle, even encouraged for Kyle, but I don’t want to think about the possibility for it for myself? Kelly and I would talk about depression. I’m so hierarchical. I looked down on her for being a year younger than me, but was it only because I didn’t want to think of her as an equal in this relationship so she couldn’t conceivably be equal and therefore rival in any other?

I’ve hung out with Stuart 3 times since being home. I get desperate to get out. Logans busy doing Logan things. I wonder if he’s happy. He seems pretty carefree whenever I talk to him. or maybe touchy if I criticize. I’ve climbed down a lot of high horses since high school, and now i’m so much more conscious of being insecure. I don’t know that I love him like Jesus loves. I don’t know who in my life I love with the love of Christ. I don’t really feel the love of Christ in me much. except for small nanoseconds like when I started this blog.

I miss the security of Christs love. for that matter I miss the security of Stuarts love, not gonna lie. He doesn’t love me any more. It intrigues and astounds me how that boy moves on and shuts off. Not that he should be madly in love still. but its the whole distance even from any memories. i’m perplexedly impressed and almost jealous of those skills. except when he hugs me goodbye. I can’t quite figure out how calculated he is being, or if our hugs are just naturally doubling every time. it still feels really good in his arms. resting my head on his chest. he’s a good height for hugs.

Its also kind of ridiculous that I can’t even talk about Jesus for one whole blog without getting distracted. I don’t know what the relationship is between my depression and my Jesus. I know that he used to make it better, but there are two halves of me fighting a completely different fight, to which Jesus has somehow become irrelevant. whether to believe that science and psychology and brain chemistry can change me (not heal me, but help me yes) or to believe that its all in my head and I’ll get through it just fine, and I’ll learn to cope and deal and grow stronger. And I’ll keep blogging and thinking and analyzing and figuring stuff out. And somehow that will make me happier. Because I guess I’ve come to the conclusion that happiness does matter. and I do want to be happy. and i’m not happy at whitworth, most of the time.

At Whitworth second semester: My highlights were CiC every Tues night. That hour was always well spent. And getting offcampus whenever possible (not the dinner dates tho or roomie times or group events…) but gardening. and that time at the coffeeshop while josh walked around and talked to jesus and bums and i feverishly wrote my essays for the scholarships. and I loved time with the refugee family. and I loved babysitting. and of course my Family time. and generally Church. well. I always love Church, but sometimes at Vintage it was just church. not because of Steve or the sermon but the company time after. we kinda suck at being a loving community with each other. GAH! not gonna get into that.

its time for me to go. my brother needs my computer so he can work on his english paper so he doesn’t get a D. maybe more later.

pray for me? if you’re reading this.

Though you know not whither you are bound, may you know whence you come

Feb 25, Origins, African wisdom for every day.

i want a boy damnit.

i want a boy thats gonna love me as much as stuart did.

i want a boy thats not gonna give a shit about the unimportant stuff like stuart did

i want a boy thats gonna do what he wants

and what he wants is gonna include me

i want to be wanted.

i want to be happy for kelly finally having a boy who’ll treat her right. i just wish it wasn’t stuart.

i want to be done with this already. i want to stop continually going back and remembering. i want to have different fresno memories. different airport memories. different cooking memories. different window memories. different driving memories. different fingers on my right hand. different ice cream memories. different funny stories to tell.

and i really don’t want kelly to go on that cruise to ensenada. probably nothing i can do about that one tho.

whelp. the truth is out. i guess i’m not quite as okay as i thought. and i told her.

next step. get over all these emotions, so i don’t pull a becca on kelly. 1) don’t get involved in her relationship with him. 2) don’t be friends with him outside of her. 3) don’t make her feel bad about her relationship with stuart. 4) don’t talk dirty with her about my relationship with him. 5) don’t require innocent late night hanging out from him as a antidote to a stupid decision 6)don’t enter in abusive relationship to escape jealousy issues. 7)don’t be there for him after they break up. don’t …

i think i can handle it.

forgiveness is a funny thing

so i have this friend beka. and i need to forgive her. for doing something i shouldn’t know she did. but i kinda stopped being friends with her. i want to actually want to do it though. like, i feel like i need to love her. but where. how. why. how. do you protect yourself from people who might hurt you again? wheres the real and the true friendship if theres no trust. is there any way to love beka not as her friend?

do the saints and martyrs have a heart/soul that is open for attack? that is broken and wounded? did they ever learn? or did they learn not to feel it? or did they learn that somehow it would be better to be broken and wounded for the possibility of the betterment of the wound-er.

this whole love your enemy thing doesn’t make as much sense as i would like. i mean, you can’t get much more enemy-like than a betrayal. then you start thinking of famous betrayals (not that this ranks quite as high as slaughtering the only begotten son of God, but part of me wants to say “but still!”)

then theres the whole “what would (did) jesus do?” what does jesus do. what does jesus do for me.

its like i know that the only way for me to forgive her is through Jesus. and the only way for it not to hurt is to be so close to jesus that his opinion of me IS what defines me. the only problem with that is that its so easy to say the words. and its even kinda easy to live it for a while. (the older i get, the more i like paul. when i was little, i hated his guts. like really. i loved jesus, and i was a relatively good kid, and i did random stuff to love on people without realizing most people didn’t do that with out some form of intentionality. but i hated pauls stuffiness when i read him. i still don’t really like the peters. or james. just so intense in an occasionally self-righteous tone. the reason i like paul more now is his whole “i want to do one thing but end up doing something opposite” spiel [romans 7:14-21, thank you jesus for biblegateway])

that was a long parenthetical comment.

amber asked me today what my goals were. for this week. month. year. whatever. i told her i wanted to thrive. i want to be planted at whitworth fully this year, and i want to thrive.

upon deeper thought tho. i think i need to get better at discernment. i think i need to stop analyzing and repackaging my life experience to regurgitate in conversation with some (conscious or not) selfish intention. will i be sending my kid to an inner-city ghetto school? hell yes. do i need to glorify myself in the meantime and be just as elitist as the worst stereotype of a bullard girl? no. not really necessary. i’m going to try to stop thinking about myself so much (as awful as that sounds, its really true). i’m going to attempt to just Be this year. Be myself, for sure. but also do stuff that may or may not be Me. and maybe at some later point in time, i’ll stop for some self-reflection, but i think i need to trust the Holy Spirit inside of me a little more. i want to just GO. you know? like live in the moment, every moment, and still be becoming more full of gracetruthlovejoypeace. and the only way i’m gonna do that unselfishly, is to be able to listen more. to hear more. or trust my emotional decisions a little more.

this may or may not be retiring…. just a warning.

Might vs. Right

I just finished reading The Once and Future King, one thing i can positively attribute to the break-up is that i have a whole lot more free time, and can read lots and lots of books.

I cannot choose to hate. I cannot choose to play the bitch. I have to choose the highest road. I have to love.

Theres something about nobility, and theres something about goodness, and theres something about what is True, that has to win out in the end. And we’re all looking for it. As long as we’re brave enough to, I guess. I really wish Unitarianism didn’t feel so anti-Christian to me, because I feel like theres a lot of nobility and honesty in their aims.

And in the midst of all my dreams and hopes and attempts at Love, still life goes on, and still America goes on. That Seventies Show just came on, “we’re all alright, we’re all alright”, so much culture, so much numbness. So many opportunities not to care. I do it all the time.

I think one of my biggest self-lessons is that I’m just as bad as anyone else. I don’t really care about the environment, because I’d still much prefer driving adventures to sitting at home not killing the air. I’d much prefer buying mindless crap for peoples birthdays because I love them, even if Target has horrible working conditions. I’m all for greater governmental powers imposing limits, and changing laws, but when it comes down to individual choices, I don’t really care all that much. I do the easy stuff. Doesn’t everyone?

I’m a jealous bitch. Just the same as basically every girl on the planet, i’m pretty sure. I don’t have the patience. I’m full on envy and pride and i boasted every chance I got about how wonderful i thought my boy was. I’m not pure. My love isn’t pure. This is love towards anyone, not just a someone. I’m scared of being hurt, I put up walls, I don’t generally tell the whole truth, and I always change my story based on who I’m speaking to. and i think everyone does too. I’m scared and I’m jealous. Mostly, I’m scared of being left alone.

something about TH White though, he seems to believe, that if you work hard enough, and try long enough, if you lead the way, by intentionally trying, in Goodness, it will come. and Life will be better. But in the end Arthur is sacrificed. Chivelry is sacrificed. The Round Table destroyed by baseless humanity. Humanity thats just so damn scared of being hurt again that it takes everything it can down with it.

Today I wrote, in as many places as possible, “boys are dumb, then they leave” i chanted it in my head over and over again. and part of me is so so so convinced that its true. that no matter what happens, I’ll never be enough. or i’ll be just enough for sometimes. That Jesse, my dad, Logan, and Stu will be continually coming close enough to raise my hope, and then theyll leave again. So i won’t ever be able to let go, just continue a list, and cry when they hurt me again. this whole paragraph was unfair. I want to keep writing, so i’m just going to leave it, and hope that it doesn’t kill my thought process.

I hope, someday, that we get it. That we stop have multiple intentions, that we stop using each other, that we come truly into our own, and that we shine in it. That we would find ourselves. That humanity would realize itself, and its potential. That it would stop having boundaries, that it wouldn’t want what wasn’t its own (i know thats a contradiction, but like think about it in context of theres more than enough to go around. You don’t have to share whats your own if theres enough for everyone to have their own)

Sometimes, I’m really good at being full of love. and full of grace, and still speaking Truth. Sometimes I’m really good at seeing it, holding it, knowing things for what they are, the good and the bad, and still being ok with them.

Sometimes though, those wounds get to me. And I hurt so bad. And sometimes I deal with them the more right way, but most of the time, I just lash out. and I try to make people understand how bad this hurts, in the context of me, in the context of the world, even in the context of what is Right, and what Should be done. Sometimes I don’t use words though. Sometimes I just talk to their friends, and share my side of the story. Sometimes I just do cruel things, just to make them hurt half as much as I hurt inside.

Because somewhere along the way, no matter how hard I tried, my heart didn’t harden. And somewhere along the way, I was chosen, and my heart was redeemed, and I’m not nearly as bitter as I want to be. Maybe everyone does this, but I hope not, because if they have, and the world is this screwed up, theres really no hope.

People are human, and they screw up, and they hurt each other.