My life wouldn't be the same

without my parents. Actually it wouldn't be at all.

Today was my parent's twenty-second anniversary. Their love has been one of the few constants in my life, one of the few things I could ever cling to. They are absolutely amazing. Never have I seen them argue with each other (with my brother and I, definitely). Truly a model, truly inspiring--flaws and all.

I want to tell you a story, but I've no idea where to begin, or even what it should be about. I could tell you of how I miss my dog, of family traditions, or even quote passages of essays I once wrote. I suppose I could pick any topic and pour myself into is, reaching into the very corners of thought in search of some revelation, clarification, inspiration. I would much rather write with no purpose, no structure, no goal; just put pen to paper, fingers to keys, and see what happens to emerge. Even seeing words before me I can feel ideas coming into focus, thoughts settling in on their perch--intellectual Ritalin.

Surprising, really, what a little order can accomplish. I'm amazed how mush time I've found now that I have so much to do. Adding tasks to my schedule has refocused my priorities. I find I have even more time for things like this. Refocus. This weekend I was on the verge of breakdown, I put things off until they are actually worth stressing over, and then it hits me in waves--and I start to shut down in defense. So this weekend found me fighting the shutdown. I nearly buckled when I realized I would be losing an entire hour.

Refocus. Worship Sunday morning and reading scripture. I was asked to read Psalm 22, which led me to read Psalm 24. Who is this King of glory? Even after the morning of worship and prayer, my hands still weren't lifted. It took focus, me focusing on the data I had to collect, forcing myself into observation mode for this project I've been working on. And the sky was an incredible blue, the clouds perfectly placed. In the midst of the headstrong winds, a voice asking "Do you remember who I AM?"

Right. Lord of hosts, wonderful counselor, my strong tower. I just have to be reminded sometimes.

I'd like to retire there and do nothing,
or nothing much, forever, in two bare rooms:
look through binoculars, read boring books,
old, long books, and write down useless notes,
talk to myself, and, foggy days,
watch the droplets slipping, heavy with light.

-Excerpt: Elizabeth Bishop's "The End of March"-

Busy Busy Busy

This week is going to be crazy. I refuse to declare a hiatus, that would be giving in to the fact that I'll be doing very little outside study this week....Of course, it's not like I update that often anyway; we'll see what I can manage.

This sums things up nicely:

I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.
--Mother Theresa--

There is nothing wrong with dreary...

It's overcast, dripping rain, windy, and forty degrees outside. I absolutely love it.

This is perfect beach weather: rocky shore; stormy skies; wind cutting in off of the breakers, past your layers, past your flesh, into your very core...

National Poetry Month

Yep, April is National Poetry Month. In light of that, I hope to get some poetry up here periodically. I wanted to start with some Elizabeth Bishop but, as all my favorites of hers go for pages and I'm having the hardest time choosing an excerpt, she'll have to wait.

Since I need something we'll go with an excerpt from "Olive" from one of my own favorites:

The only thing he saw when he walked in,
was Olive.
She had her back to him,
standing at the sink,
washing the dishes.
The shelves around her were empty,
except for the pots.

And everything was color,
except for Olive.
A brown skirt.
Brown,
bland,
and Olive.

The dishes clinked,
stacked one at a time.
They would have to be dried,
by those hands.
Arthritic now
but then, past, so vary able.
Now they washed dishes,
slowly.

A Merry Un-Birthday to me.

I thought I had great friends before...
I need to revise that to say I have the greatest friends in the world.

Tonight, after bible study, I got another surprise party (this one included swing dancing and scrumptious cake).

{Pause, reflect, beam.}

So I had planned on coming back and writing an actual post (on something out of Hebrews) and then get to studying for the test I have bright and early tomorrow this morning. After the slight detour of the evening, I'm going to have to jump right into studying (as I haven't even started) for this test that is quite literally for the birds (feather structure, bones, etc.).

You know, since Wildlife is my major, I think I should get credit for some of my extracurriculars, especially if I can offer sufficient proof of wildness.

Going to get bird-brained now...

I have this fortune (from the last time I was off campus for Chinese) that says:
The secret to good friends is no secret to you.

I don't know if there is a secret to having good friends, it's not like there is some interview process or special formula. I do find that I have the most amazing friends.

Today was a perfect example. I didn't really tell many people about my birthday (Ok, I did put it in my away message). I didn't have big plans: dinner with Laura and a call from home. The day was just one surprise after another.

It was supposed to be drizzly today, but not a drop of rain all day. It was absolutely beautiful.

I came home from class to find cards, birthday messages and a balloon (I love balloons). I thought this was awesome. No, make that aweXome. (Yeah, I don't think I'll ever be using that again, it just doesn't feel right.)

Anyway, so I headed off to study for Calculus absolutely elated.

When I got back to my room, my roommate had decorated the room (more balloons!!).
Dinner was wonderful, Laura and I had some quality girl time.

I headed back to my room to find some more review problems for Calc., got a Happy Birthday call from my parents. I felt like I would burst.

And then I got shanghaied. Instead of the study session I thought was coming, my friends showed up and hauled me off to Joe's for milkshakes.

I feel so blessed. Never before have I had friends that would do that sort of thing for me. Today has been one of the greatest birthdays.

{Enter Stork}

Happy Birthday to me! That's right, twenty years ago this very day, your's truly came into this world.
I'm officially out of the 'teens now, something I've been looking forward to.

What? I told you March was full of cool birthdays.

Springtime and the livin' is lazy.

A sunny Sunday, cool spring breeze coming through a window that looks out over a gloriously green quad, roommate has classic country quietly playing, here and there the scratch of pen on paper and the clicks of the keyboard...

And I'm actually being productive.

So far, today is a very good day.

Post on..um..Post

So I had this whole post written on how much I love letter writing, how it's become a dying art, how it's such an intimate form of communication and how we should preserve the practice...and then tried to mail my application. While I still prefer letter writing to most other forms of communication (save face-to-face dialogue), I can definitely see how we (and, sadly, I am included) turn from manual to electronic correspondence in an attempt to simplify our daily lives.

I went to the mail room in my dorm, but the lady that was working was just a substitute and really didn't know much about sending anything. So I went to the Post Office downtown today, only to find that the window in the downtown branch is closed on Saturdays. I wound up having to get a manila envelope from the bookstore on campus. Now I would try to send it myself, but I have no idea what the postage is supposed to be on this thing. I tried looking it up on the USPS website, but the only price lists I found were for Priority and Express (plus, I don't know how much this weighs, so I can't really calculate).

Right. Fun stuff. No wonder people revert to click-and-send so much.

I still love good old-fashioned letters, nothing is going to change that. I still use an inkwell and quill for crying out loud. Which reminds me, I have some catching up to do...

It's Spring!!!

Actually, I took this picture of the Mabry Mill in October, but it's still a good representation of how wonderfully green everything is around here...

On another note, that I've finally figured out how to add pictures is dangerous indeed.

It takes all kinds...

"Why!" she cried, "good country people are the salt of the earth! Besides, we all have different ways of doing, it takes all kinds to make the world go 'round. That's life!"

"You said a mouthful," he said.

"Why, I think there aren't enough good country people in the world!" she said, stirred. "I think that's what's wrong with it!"

His face had brightened. "I didn't intraduce myself," he said. "I'm Manley Pointer from out in the country around Willohobie, not even from a place, just from near a place."

"You wait a minute," she said. "I have to see about my dinner." She went out to the kitchen and found Joy standing near the door where she had been listening.

"Get rid of the salt of the earth," she said, "and let's eat."

From Good Country People by Flannery O'Connor. Born this day, 1925.
Thanks to my 11th grade AP Lit & Comp teacher, Mr. Reynolds, for the introduction.

What's that word again?

Right, one last post before I head to bed. I was reading through some journal entries of mine from a few years ago and they are wonderfully rich. Part of the problem was I used to use writing as a type of therapy, so a lot of my journal writing was done when I was depressed and looking back on them all now is downright entertaining. I particularly like this excerpt:

Clarity of thought hinges on precision in diction. To think of the confusion that would disappear if only people would learn and utilize the full potential of language. But most people don't care to know that bears don't hibernate or that butterflies do not come out of cocoons. [Best part:] Yet I refuse to dwell on "most people" for the actions, the irrationalities, and the ignorancies of the mass public frustrate me to no end.

Boy-howdy was I pompous (and yes, I just used "boy-howdy," get over it). Part of the problem was the academic program I was in at the time encouraged elitist attitudes. Most of it was just me. Yikes.

I will say that I still think we don't exploit language nearly enough. I have this annoying habit of wanting to make sure I express myself clearly; using the exact words to embody precisely what I want to convey. I can't stand it when I feel like I haven't expressed exactly what I wanted to how I wanted to. This is why it takes me so long to write things (or say things for that matter). I want to make sure I have the right words, the right phrases. Eventually, however, after grappling with something for a while, I will most often just give up, go with the best I can think of at the time, and then restrain myself from editing everything over and over again.

Right. I definitely babble incoherently when I am this tired. I'm not even sure what I've just written. I'm really going to go to bed now. Really...

Who am I?

I know, it's been a week since my last post. I am such a slacker. Time to remedy that.

One of the reasons I've neglected things is I've been working on my application to work at FDCS this summer. I'm done now. (Well, just about. I'm still waiting on one of my potential references to get back to me, but my part is done.) I can't quite figure out why it's taken me a week and a half to finish. I mean, it's not like the questions were incredibly complicated, or there is some theological masterpiece that must accompany it. I think I had just been avoiding it because I don't like doing self-evaluations.

I hate reviewing myself, I really do. Yes, I'm an INFP and yes, I "internalize and reflect" a lot...but when it comes to defining or evaluating myself, forget it. I learn far more about myself indirectly (through random revelations or comments from others) than by pondering the what and why of who I am. So I avoid it. It also doesn't help that it is class registration time again. So not only have I been having to think of where I've been and where I am, but where I am headed.

You know, I thought I was done with the whole identity crisis thing. Evidently not.

Perhaps one of the reasons I'm not too fond of having to evaluate myself is I am afraid I'll go to the extreme that I have visited before. I definitely went through a stage where I was obsessed with defining myself. This was also about the time when I had been reading Chekov, Ibsen, Shakespeare (King Lear and Hamlet), James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, and other wonderfully depressing, where-is-the-meaning-in-life works. (It's tempting to post some of my journal entries from this era just for kicks; the melodrama is hilarious.) For a long time I questioned everything about my character, everything about my purpose, everything about my "journey" (warning teen angst). I stopped myself when I realized that learning who I am wasn't going to be something I could just sit down and do some afternoon I was feeling particularly poetic and that I should just learn as I go.

I've learned a lot about myself in the past couple of years. For example, God has definitely given me a heart for worship and a heart for service. My desire is to use the things that He has given me for His glory. I long for nothing more than to see His will done in my life.

Now trying to explain this to my advisor is going to be a challenge. She expects me to have some idea of where I am headed with my degree. I have to figure out a way to tell her "with grace, as though seasoned with salt" that I haven't the slightest idea what I am going to do with my degree, that I'm going to strive to do whatever it is God wants me to do and that I wouldn't be surprised in the least if what I wind up doing has little or nothing to do with Wildlife Science at all.

I've been listening to the cds from the fall Southern Regional Navigator Conference. The speaker was Fran Sciacca and, though I'm far from finished, he has been talking about identity. In fact, one of the foundational statements for his talks is "Identity leads to purpose. Purpose leads to function."

I love this. I am a bond-servant of Christ which means my purpose is, in all things, to bring glory to His name. This I can do by using the gifts I've been given (again: service and worship).

I think I've mentioned before that I love to serve, I am most fulfilled when I am filling a need, I long to be a laborer. Recently, I feel I've become more focused in that desire. I feel more drawn to ministries where I would be equipping others for works of service. Still vague, I know, and I'm not sure how this fits with my desire to get back up to Chester this summer, but I'm definitely cool with God knowing far more about what is going on in (and with) my life than me.

Again, now I get to explain to my advisor why I still have no plans for career, no desire to continue on to grad school (at least not in this major), and why I'm planning on spending my summer serving rather than working at something halfway related to my major.

My advising appointment is tomorrow. This should be fun...

The song that's been on "repeat" in my mind all day:

Make me a servant, humble and meek.
Lord, let me lift up those who are weak.
And may the prayer of my heart always be:
Make me a servant, make me a servant,
Make me a servant today.

Pictures.

I finally got all my pictures back from the trip. I really wanted to get them all put onto a really cool site and impress everybody with my growing html skills. Apparently, I have way too many pictures for a VT filebox site (unless I go through and shrink them all one by one) so I had to break down and use Yahoo. My apologies. Still, enjoy.

Re: Break

Still no pictures to post as Melissa has all of mine (including the CDs). Hopefully those will get up by this weekend sometime.

Meanwhile, let me catch up on what all happened this past week. I think the best way is going to be just hitting the highlights, so here goes:

The Drive: Eight-plus hours each way with Robbie, Melissa, and Yik (on the way back) means fun times. It's extended confined periods that lead to quotes like: "Severed puppy heads," "killer cemetery," and "In the end, I survived." We also learned the difference between sneaked and snuck, the importance of a clean palette, the status of Swedish Fish as the greatest candy, and that Robbie is easily distracted when driving (this caused some missed exits, speed limits, etc.). I also got to play with a cell phone. Buttons and I are not such a great combination.

Philly: Yes, we ran up the steps of the art museum. Yes, we had steaks (except for the sole person who ordered a "steak, no steak" which was quite entertaining). I really enjoyed the art museum, especially the early European stuff. Although once you hit the 1500s or so, it's not quite the same. I could have spent days in the European exhibits alone, another day or so in the Asian section. I ran out of time and I didn't even make it to the modern exhibits (although I'm not sure I missed much there).

Sunday:For the sole reason that we had to climb a barbed wire fence to get to church. Long story. Hilarious, but long. All I'm going to say for now is that I am still infinitely proud of us.

People: The staff, teachers, and missionaries are all really amazing people. I worked with Ms. Judy and Ms. Graham all week. They run a tight ship, let me tell you, but you can tell how much they love the kids.

The Kids: So many kids, so much love. I couldn't believe quickly they attached themselves. I wasn't expecting to get as involved as I did with the kids, but there was no way to avoid it even if I had wanted to. Needless to say, I miss my babies...

Tap: Melissa and I taught tap in the afterschool program. Considering I took two weeks of tap six years ago, I was expecting to be no more than a metronome. We actually got quite a bit done. The kids now have nearly perfect shuffles. Three hours a day, every day, plus outside practice hours. I was exhausted and loving every bit of it. The kids really enjoyed it as well, or so it seemed. Now the prayer is that we can find someone to go into the school to continue with lessons.

I absolutely fell in love with the school and can't wait to get back up there. I learned so much just from a week of serving. Going up, my prayer was mainly to be a blessing to the teachers. I wanted to serve them in any way I could which I did and I loved. It definitely reiterated what I knew of my longing to serve and made me even more determined to strive to be God's hands. I also surprised myself, teaching isn't so bad after all.

For as long as I can remember, my mom has been studying/preparing to be the teacher she is now (she only started teaching a couple of years ago). She would tease me that I would wind up teaching as well. Yeah, right...My Kindergarten, 6th and many of my high school teachers also encouraged me to look into teaching. My response was always "Nope, not gonna happen." My main reason being I didn't think I would ever be able to clearly explain concepts to others when I just barely get away without confusing myself. And I had seen what teaching was and didn't want a part of it. Yeah, that's a bit different now. Not only did I learn that I kind of enjoyed teaching the kids, I wasn't that bad at it after all. Who knew? Not that my new passion is teaching or that I am dead set on being a teacher...but the idea has gone from "No way on Earth" to "You know, I could do this" and it is no longer ruled out as an option. Hmm...

Back Again

After a week of spending every day playing with Kindergarteners and then teaching tap from 3-6 every afternoon, I wonder how long it is going to take me to get back into "big school" mode. I mean, no more recess? What's up with that? And exactly why do I need to know how to count past 8?

I had an amazing time this week. The kids at FDCS are awesome. More coherent posts and pictures are coming soon...