when unprayed prayers are answered

Somewhere along the line, I think I became a writer.

I went for a walk this morning because it was so pretty outside and I realized that we don't have many mornings like that left. As I walked, I felt like everything was a story. I know that sounds impossibly cheesy - I can't actually believe I wrote it - but it's kind of true. I found myself at each turn writing what was going on around me - putting it into words over and over until I finally found a way I liked. It was a nearly unconscious process; but then suddenly, I realized what I was doing, and I realized that this has become a part of the way I think. I've been writing on airplanes, and in airport terminals; while driving, walking, riding, talking, listening, observing, sitting, standing. On the elliptical and at family gatherings. I want to describe Christmas lights, and the bells of the church across the street from my house. People are stories to be told; words are like those tiny pieces of glass that people who are crazy talented use to make those incredibly intricate mosaics.

I've never really felt like a writer until this morning. And it was there, on Gaylord Street, Annie Lennox on my iPod, that the smells of Christmas candles and omelets and coffee and dog poo made me suddenly want to write a story about what it was like to walk down Gaylord St., listening to Annie Lennox, smelling candles and omelets and coffee and yes, even dog poo. It's poetry, people, I'm telling you...

Part of me wonders why now; but then another part of me tells that part of me to shut it and just enjoy it. Now don't get me wrong - I have a LONG way to go and a lot more to learn about writing and living and loving and the like. I'm nowhere near finished. But I'm starting to feel awake, and I don't think I've always been. I wouldn't call it happy - although it makes me that way, sometimes - because that's not what it is. Openness to feeling runs the whole gamut; which has to include pain and grief and suffering. No, it's not happiness - it's freedom to live authentically, I think. I will be vulnerable because it is far less scary than it is not to be. I care what you people think - I don't know that I can get rid of that entirely. I am, however, less worried about the inevitable catastrophe that is rejection, because really, it's ok. I'll be ok. And the truth is I'm better when I'm not worrying than when I am. Some people like me and (GASP) some people won't. I don't think I've ever been ok with that before in my whole tiny life. I may never craft a poem as eloquently as e.e. cummings, and maybe the only people who will ever read what I write will be my 15ish followers (most of whom are in my immediate family). But it doesn't matter, because I am a writer, and I will write because I love it and I am free to do so. TAKE THAT!

Why now? I don't know. I didn't ask for it. But I do know this: "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." [Romans 8:26-27]

I didn't know what I needed. I hadn't a clue that this was what I longed for.

[thank You]

An open letter to individuals who utilize air travel

Don't get me wrong, I like people. I do. But there is something about planes that make adults lose all of their social skills and all of the things they learned about manners in kindergarten and makes babies & small children immediately behave crazily. Must be something about being up at however many thousand feet, I guess. I don't know what it is, but I feel like everyone on planes is ridiculous.

On my flight from TX a few weeks ago, I sat next to a person whom I'm 99% sure was certifiably, probably qualified for some kind of institution situation crazy. (I'm a mental health professional so I can say stuff like this.) She continually, throughout the flight, swore (the worst words on the spectrum, too) under her breath. Several times she placed her leather jacket on my lap so she could do something or other - and she repeatedly made a noise that sounded like a combo of some kind of animal mating call and hocking a loogie. [That is a gross phrase to write out. I don't think I'll do it again.] At one point I had a tiny arm spasm and touched her arm - she elbowed me back. Hard. She also clipped her fingernails mid flight - that's not a joke - the lady on the other side of her ended up leaving at this point. Don't know where she went, but I wish she had taken me with her. On the way off the plane I saw a team of security people who I'm pretty sure were coming for her. Several people on the way off the plane gave me empathetic glances or said something to the effect of, "well that must have been fun for you." If by fun you mean terrifying, then yes. I literally pretended to be asleep the entire 2 hour flight because I was so scared of Sybil. (That's what I named her.) I practically ran off the plane, and even after it was over, I was jumpy for the next 48 hours or so.

Here are my thoughts from tonight:

To the insanely tall college women's basketball player sitting next to me: please stop angling your body in such a way that our hips and practically our butts are touching. I don't even know you. You're making me uncomfortable.

To the mother of the child sitting behind me: I have to be honest, I'm not terribly concerned with the fact that snapping her seatbelt buckle might pinch her fingers, like you keep reminding her. I'm more interested in the fact that the repeated noise of metal on metal is making my ears bleed.

To the chorus of babies all directly behind me: was that a new harmony you guys were working on? Was this some kind of baby-screaming rehearsal you planned for during our flight? I mean really, well done. I especially liked how when one of you stopped the other one started so it was never ever not for one second silent. That was a pretty sweet technique.

To the girl sitting on my left: please, I beg you, stop talking. This guy who is apparently interested in the inane things you are saying is probably just being polite. Stop flipping your hair and waving your arms and saying weird things. Oh, and when you talk about "cocaine," maybe consider lowering your voice a little. Just a little constructive criticism.

To the guys in front of me: yes, I know I went to high school with one of you and that I know you, other guy, from somewhere in Denver, but I can't remember either of your names, so I am not planning on meeting the eye contact you are attempting so we can have the awkward "oh hey weird meeting you here how do we know each other when did I see you last and what is your name again?" conversation. I'm sorry. I just don't have it in me. The chorus of babies and the metal on metal in addition to psycho girl over here have taken every bit of energy I previously possessed for stupid airplane small talk.

Ok, ok, I'm half kidding. The other half, though, not so much.

Kindest & Most Sincere Regards,

Dreaming in Denver... of a peaceful flight & maybe a nice little nap, that is.

today, I am free

to wear what I want
----- & not wonder if you don't think my purple cords & boots are as kick-a as I do
to sing like a rockstar
----- & to like how I sound

---------- (in my car, anyway)

to say no

to write what I think

to say what I feel

to ask for what I need

to voice my desire

to not worry about the reactions I'll get

----- to my feelings, needs, desires

to recover

to do something different

to be fine

to not be fine

to paint my nails blue, if it feels right

----- (it does)

to be funny, if I want

to not be funny, if I don't

to say yes

to be heard

to be a little bit crazy

to listen to christmas music

----- even though it's not yet thanksgiving

to love who I love

to like what I like

to laugh like a dork

----- (and snort if its funny enough)

to be who I am

to like who I am

to love who I am

to desire freedom

-- & to be free

to look at this list & realize these things have not always been true
but also to realize that that's ok

because today, they are
today, I am free

and I like that

& I'm free to like that to my tiny heart's content

eatdrinkread.wordpress.com

OFFICIAL PLUG for the BOOK CLUB BLOG:

eatdrinkread.wordpress.com

It was my month to host and post... so my blogging genius went into the November report. I'm not posting it here so as to encourage you to visit the Book Club blog! Also you can see our upcoming book selections and steal them as ideas for you to read yourself. I'd suggest doing so. We have excellent taste.

peace, love, & literature: Megan

love is a battlefield

As you may or may not have heard, I am very smart and/or intellectual. So I've been thinking about C.S. Lewis lately:

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."

Well... shoot. The decision to be vulnerable. I think about my life and all the things/people I love, have loved, will love, and I have recently come to the startling realization that loving is hard. You love, and you risk. I love, and I get hurt sometimes. It's just what happens. But I mean, Pat Benetar warned us, did she not? Love is a battlefield. (How much do you love that I quoted C.S. Lewis and Pat Benetar all at once? Epic.)

Risky business though it is, it seems to me that it is far scarier to not love than it is to risk, love, and maybe occasionally be hurt. And losing love and being hurt is really freaking hard. In loving we risk loss, we risk disappointment, we risk rejection, we risk the heart-wrenching feeling of watching another person suffer and being helpless to assist. It is occasionally an appealing thought that I could just, if I wanted, say no. I could choose not to invest, not to care, not to do any of it. I could say, "You are scary. I will not love you even though it's what my heart wants, because you terrify me. You could hurt me, but I won't let you. HA! Suckaaaa!" If I don't do it, I'm safe. I'm unhurtable. I'm 100% unvulnerable. Unwringable and unbreakable. And since vulnerability scares the hey-ho out of me, that sounds kind of awesome 85% of the time.

But I don't want that, really. So I try on love. And to love means to risk the awfulness when something bad happens. It means to risk the hurt that comes with my not being able to protect another person from hurt. It means to hurt and be hurt and forgive and be forgiven because I love them too much not to. It means to sometimes cry in a counseling session with a kid even thought it's maybe not the most professional option. It means to cry sometimes just because I know what you're all going through. It means to hurt and grieve right alongside people and hold their hands even when I might need someone to hold mine, too. It sometimes means to let someone do these things for and with me, even when it seems like letting them is the actual scariest thing in the world.

I talked to a friend the other night whose heart is broken and wrenched right now. I have felt the same way, all too recently, and I had very little to offer my friend in the way of comfort or good advice. And in spite of the fact that I hardly know what to say when the people I love get to this place, I love them. They love, I love, and we are wrenched, and I have to believe at the end of the day, it's worth it. That loving each other is a great, wonderful privilege - something we just cannot let ourselves give up no matter how appealing the option looks in the thick of despair.

It's kind of exciting, if you think about it. I mean, exciting in an I-might-pee-my-pants-at-any-given-moment kind of way, but exciting, nonetheless.

"heartache to heartache, we stand..." Preach it, Pat.

ALERT THE MEDIA I'M HAVING AN AWESOME DAY

I don't like extremes, I think. I'm self-conscious about being overly negative, but today, I'm self-conscious about being overly positive. Maybe I should stop being self-conscious? Or learn to live in some kind of middle ground. But that sounds kind of boring. And so not my style. So, here we are.

I do not know why I woke up this way this morning, I really don't. I mean, today hasn't even been that great. I'm having a terrible hair day, for one thing (it's in a side braid. why? I couldn't begin to tell you), and for another, I messed up the coffee-to-water ratio AGAIN this morning so I was uncomfortably jittery until about noon. But it's kind of like the Negative Nancy who lives in my brain was murdered in the night and replaced by someone awesome and sickly positive who tells me only good things. Either that or someone has medicated me against my knowledge. Those are the only logical options, I think.

There is a part of me, I have to confess, that wants to feel guilty for having a good day - like my grief and my sadness isn't serious enough if I could still have such a good day. But the fact is, I thought about Audrie today just like I always do. I missed her, just like I always do. It still wasn't right that she isn't here. None of that changed because I had a good day. Being happy today didn't mean that I wasn't honoring my sister.

And I'm not going to say much more about it, because sometimes, things are so nice and so simple that they do not need a bunch of words to explain just how nice and simple they are.

I have been quoting ee cummings lately like its my j-o-b, I know, but ending with this just seems apropos.* Interesting that this particular poem is coming up again, by the way...

i thank you God for this most amazing day:

for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth

day of life and love and wings:and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any-lifted from the no

of all nothing-human merely being

doubt unimaginably you?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

and even if tomorrow sucks, it will be fine. I think baby steps, for now, are enough.

*I can't begin to tell you how pleased I am with myself for using this word. Just throwing that out there.

today

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

I think I'm going to like November

who are you,little i

(five or six years old)
peering from some high

window;at the gold

of November sunset

(and feeling:that if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

[ee cummings]

there were so many people in my house last night.

I have two new favorite things. Fake eyelashes & Sparkle Spray.among those in attendance at 1403 HP 2k9 were:

+ 3 Rainbow Brites. I know. Like my worst nightmare come true. But don't worry - mine was the best.

- Allison Wonderland (see what I did there? It was Allison... as AliceIN wonderland)

! Danny, Sandy, & Frenchie from Grease... Chelsea did a bang-up job with Sandy and Troy was a great Danny, he even had some lines down which Chelsea forbade him to continue sharing because she was embarrassed. I thought he was pretty good. And Frenchie, Chelsea's little sister Hannah, was way cute too, that beauty school drop out...

# So many CELEBS! Lindsay Lohan, her lesbie lovaaaah Samantha Ronson, Hannah Montana, Kanye West...

$ a car wash

^ Mister Rogers in a women's sweater...

* Romy & Michelle! "if you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting... time after time" so beautiful.

() the Blockheads from Gumby - their costume was ridiculously good. Also ridiculously large.

% Goldilocks & the 3 Bears - Goldilocks was played by an insanely tall man with a beard, which made it funnier I think.

AND SO MANY MORE GOOD COSTUMES!!!! I mean, people really went all out... I was impressed. I loved it. also in attendance was my sort of creepy but also endearing old man neighbor, the guy I lived next door to 2 years ago and haven't seen or spoken to since moving out, two of my favorite Sigmas from Trinity, Carla and Whitney, & a bunch of my JCrew friends (below)!!

My sweet friends Susan and Chris came (as Dairy Queen and Burger King) and they are ENGAGED!!!!!! I just think they are the cutest... couldn't be happier for those two! That makes all 3 of my former roommates with big fat diamonds on their fingers. This house must be magical! Either that or I am. I'm hoping it's the house.

It was an all-star cast. And even though my house was trizzashed (that's ghetto for trashed) this morning, it was worth it to have all of our friends in our house and see everyone have so much fun dancing and singing and being hilariously funny and creative and wonderful. I heard there was a friend of a friend who attended who said something to the effect of, "wow, you guys have GREAT friends!" It's kind of fun in situations like last night where I realize how freaking awesome the people I get to hang out with are.

KCi & Jo Jo "all my life" came on - and I got asked to dance - which was pretty sweet. We later went on to bring the night home with a lot of karaoke duets. They included "my favorite things" from sound of music, "linger" by the cranberries, "you're the one that I want" from Grease, as well as "summer nights." We're real good.

Around 2 am, the karaoke got really hoppin. We pretty much did that until 4. Well, 3 because it was daylight savings... but still. This part was maybe the most fun.

It's always kind of sad when really fun things are over. We've been excited about this party since... well... November 1st of last year. It's the best when ridiculously high expectations are absolutely surpassed. I have such fun friends, such a lovely house, and roomies who support throwing massive parties.

Spent the day lying in bed, looking at everyone's pictures, reminiscing the night with different people... typical day-after-party stuff. Tomorrow... back to real life. No more snow days or parties! But on Friday I am finally, after much anticipation, SAN ANTONIO BOUND!!!!! Trinity Alumni Weekend... here I come...

peace, love, & sparkle spray,

Rainbow Brite

I'm dreaming of a whiiiiiite... Halloween?

I plagiarized that from my friend Erin because I think it's hilarious. I mean... really?

When I was little, I remember when the first snow flurry fell, there was only one thing on my mind. SNOW DAY. We would watch the slow-moving ticker on the bottom of the news, praying, hoping, to see our school's name with "CLOSED" next to it. Oh the joy, the glee, as we, bleary eyed from sitting so close to the TV for 3 hours, finally saw "Wichita Collegiate: CLOSED" roll by on the ticker. It was so good. My friends, I am here to tell you - it is just as good when you're a grownup.

The view from my bed:

out the back door:
and in the backyard:

Are you confused? Me too. I woke up yesterday and I thought, "I mean, I know I stayed up until 3:30 writing a paper on the Orthodox Church and that I had WAY too much coffee that I accidentally made WAY too strong because I don't really understand the coffee-->water ratio situation, but did I actually sleep until December? Because it certainly does not look like October 28 outside." What is happening?

So it's STILL snowing. We are on, I believe, 18 inches and it's STILL snowing. I am on snow day #2, so I'm not so much complaining, but still. Really? Everything is cancelled! Internship, Denver Seminary, the world has veritably shut down. At least for those of us who are in school situations. Sorry, real worlders. No such luck.

Yesterday we attended a "snugglefest" at a friend's nearby - watched "When Harry Met Sally" and drank hot chocolate. Today might be slightly harder to get around only because of the sheer volume of the snow... but everything in my life is cancelled, so I may have to leave the house at some point. I'm even wearing my Sigma sweatshirt, which I only do in extreme comfort situations, because even though I love it, the world (my friends) is (are) not so accepting of my sororital roots.

So since I've got nothing but time & Allison is making pumpkin pancakes, here are some other things that have been going on... but first of all: YUM

Went to Wichita and bribed Timmy & Shelbs with SUGAR!! Ice cream sundaes. They were big fans of us (me & Allison). I'm pretty sure Allison and Beckie are in a silent feud to see who can make the kids like them best. What can I say? I got lucky in the nieces & nephews department. Actually, I think I kind of got lucky in the whole family department. (I know I know, dry your eyes... & now, back to the hilarity that is my life.)
I think Shelbie gets cuter by the minute. It's a little bit ridiculous.

Oh, and the other reason we made the pilgrimage to Wichita: to see Becca & Colin get married. I mean, does this picture just not warm your heart? This is pretty much what they looked like the entire night. Their faces MUST have hurt.

A few weeks ago, we went to Traildust Steakhouse to visit our friend Chris (middle) who works there. His stage name is Maverick. When we got there, I told the 16 yr old hostess, "it's really important that we're in Maverick's section." She looked at me, knowingly; "So you think he's really cute, huh?" Yes. Yes we do.

This is Dusty. Dusty, I'm 99% sure, instills nightmares in children. And Christy (left).

This is one of the many reasons it is fun to live in my house (other than that my roommate makes pumpkin pancakes on snow days). We have this sign up in the kitchen when we have small group or people over & we make food... people add to the list... (admittedly, some (most) of it was me...)

Allison just posted on her facebook that she made pumpkin pancakes, and now, 10 minutes later, a bunch of boys (ok, 2) are coming over. This, we have decided, will be our new man-catching tactic. I'll let you know how that works out.

OK, with all this time on my hands, I could do some serious blogging damage, so I will stop myself while I am still at an acceptable length. Enjoy your day. I'm currently trying to convince people to risk their lives to come over to my house so I don't get bored but also don't have to leave. It's a win-win. For me, anyway.

Still snowing, by the by.

ladies and gentlemen -- Bigger Timmy

well, ladies and gents, today is a very special day...

BIGGER TIMMY's BIRTHDAY!

You see, in our family there is big Timmy (little Timmy) and bigger Timmy (this Timmy) because little Timmy (don't tell him I said that or I'll be in biggest trouble) "is not little." Clearly.

here is Tim (Papa,) swimming with Joel...

Here is Tim doing what he does best, busting a move on the dance floor.
And here is the other thing Tim does best. Whatever Mom tells him. Haha I KID I KID... dressing up for Halloween as Woody and Bo Peep.
I am continually thankful to have this Timmy in my life & in my corner! Whether it's because I got a speeding ticket or because I need a partner to sing "Grundy County Auction," he's always there for me.

You are the best Timmy Jimmy!! I love you!! Happy Birthday!!!!

Bold in the Broken Places

she held her grief behind her eyes like an ocean & when she leaned forward into the day it spilled onto the floor & she wiped at it quickly with her foot & pretended no one had seen [storypeople]

I like writing a lot, which is why I have a blog, because it's an excuse to write things and use words & exercise my piercing wit & use ampersands (&) to my heart's content & imagine that people care to read it. I haven't written anything in a while. I figured out why. It's because I have nothing positive to say.

me: and I can't even blog! I have nothing positive to say.

smart person: so what you're saying is that life is hard & you can't think of a way to write about it & then tie a nice little bow on it at the end... so you can't write anything at all?

hmm. I'm in a very tricky position, you see, because there are two things I don't want to be, ever: 1, Debbie Downer. 2, inauthentic. It is the ultimate in blogging catch-22's. I don't want to just put all my crap out there without saying something hopeful and seminaryish at the end... but a hopeful, seminarian bow at this time would not be genuine. Herein lies my problem. I get twitchy when I enter DD territory. My internal alarms enter panic mode when I don't offer some inspiring wisdom alongside whatever difficulty I choose to share. I'm going to try, though, to tell it like it is, at least this once. Maybe it will help me, maybe it will help you, or maybe I will press "publish" and immediately have a panic attack. We shall see, we shall see...

Much to my dismay, I find myself kind of really pretty considerably pissed. I keep thinking it will just go away, but there is just horribleness everywhere. I'm mad in a very big way about the state of things, about the utter brokenness of the world; ranging from the basic struggles of my basic life - to the loss of my young & beautiful sister - to the horrific lives of the kids I work with & then send back each night to horrible homes and situations - to the millions of other nightmarish things that are happening in the world. Tragedy is everywhere & it's hard to stomach.

Rationally, I know there are a lot of counter arguments to all of the items I just listed, but as some of you may know, I am not always rational. Let me say once (to ease my own discomfort, mostly) that I am not without hope that at some point I will return to a state of relative peace with all of this, and be able to manage life better. And every moment is not terrible - I laugh, & my laughter is genuine, I enjoy my friends & family & I like what I'm doing with my life. There are good things. But at the end of the day, I'm left with all of this, & I'm overwhelmed.

That said, here it is. I'm angry & sad that Audrie is gone. I'm angry & sad because the holidays are coming and my sister, our sister, won't be there. The loss of her laugh & presence in our family is almost tangible; whether spoken or unspoken, her absence is everywhere. I'm sad because my family, whom I adore, is hurting just like me, feels that absence just like me. I'm hurt & angry because people I care about have let me down, but mostly I'm so sad because I miss them & the way they made me laugh, think, feel, love. I'm so so angry that the kids I'm working with have seen more pain at fifteen than I might ever have to see in my whole life, & I'm sad every day because I can't protect them. I'm mad & frustrated that after years of struggling with the same crap, after countless prayers for God to heal that part of my life, I wake up every morning and that crap is STILL my crap.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't pray very much right now because it's hard. And as odd as it may sound, I miss the certainty of relying fully on God, & I miss the comfort that it brought me to put a bow on the crap even if it was, at times, haphazardly tied. I'm sad & angry & hurt & disappointed & I don't know where to put it all. I'm overwhelmed & when it comes down to it, I just can't understand it. Right now, I need to admit that. I don't understand.

I want to be able to say that because I'm about to graduate from seminary that I'm a pillar of strength & faith & trust, but it would be a lie. Mostly, I don't want to go through my life wiping my accidentally spilled tears away with my foot, just like I don't want that for any of my kids at school or for any member of my family & just like I wouldn't want that for any friend who had an ocean of tears held behind her eyes. Despite my current difficulty, I do feel confident that that is not how our Creator intended us to go through this life. My heart is hurting. Maybe yours is too. I need to be able to share my heart even when it's messy and broken. I need to practice being bold in the broken places.

story of the day [www.storypeople.com]

stable as long as nothing else in the whole world shifts

(so don't get your hopes up)*

*more soon, I promise**

**well, at least at some point in the next 2 weeks before I see my therapist again...

because she told me to and I dare not disobey her.

hadn't thought of it this way

"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it." - Flannery O'Connor

I kind of wish it did, though.

"story of the day" [www.storypeople.com]

coasting on her reputation today because she's a little fragile, so it's hard to be fierce