Hope’s too crowded, and by crowded I mean flat.
There was some snow on the drive back down to Hope this morning. It was around Cadillac and Gaylord. Twenty minutes south, there was a torrential downpour…not exactly promising. I love driving in the morning though. I love getting a good hour and a half in when the sun isn’t up yet, but you get a little bit of the light from it below the horizon.
I’ve got a 15 page grant due Tuesday. Let’s be real, I’m not remotely interested in arthropods. This is going to take a long time. Or, it might just suck.
Nearly out of gas, I pulled off the highway into the town of Mount Shasta once. I stopped at the Shell gas station because it was the first one I came to. I remember looking at the sidewalk and seeing this couple walking their chocolate lab. In the middle of town, the lab didn’t have a leash on and it was just walking with them. I thought that was awesome. I get out of my car, head inside to prepay and come back outside to start filling up my tank for the last few hours of the drive. A station wagon pulls up next to me. This thing is a rolling rainbow and the woman that stepped out of it was the closest thing to walking sunshine I’d ever seen. With a flowy skirt and hair in haphazard braids, she asked me a question. I didn’t know the answer, but I told her (genuinely) that I loved her car. On the side, she’d hand painted “Re-falling in love with America.” It was mostly blue, but had hearts and rainbows and sunshine handpainted on it too. Corny, right? Maybe, yes, but at the same time, I loved it. This woman, in her late forties maybe, was free. Alone–well with her pooch–and just wandering around the country and Northern California in particular. And, she was friendly enough to talk to me. I dug it. So, I left Mount Shasta even more excited about the summer.
I can’t help but think that that will be me someday.
I want some time off. Better yet, maybe some time on…but something new. I’m over this whole college thing.. Transferring junior year second semester isn’t an option (or a financially legitimate one anyways), but I sure wish I would have known earlier. It’s amazing how this place went from “where I need to be” to completely wrong for me. People change though, right? It is what it is. I don’t want to rush it, but heck, the more I can get off this campus I will. That’s how I’ll put it …don’t want to rush time..last few weeks of 20, but I wish I could spend it in other places? Give me a beach and no responsibility. Or, how about 12 inches of pow in Colorado? February couldn’t come quick enough. I’m so excited for five days in the Rockies. What about the little spot on South Fork…little hike down, but when you get there you realize why you put up with it. Because nobody’s there. The water’s cool, the rocks are hot and the sun is just a’ shinin’. And it’s quiet. Add six friends though and you’ve got yourself a riot.
Holland’s just crampin’ my style. ;) Bad. And almost literally.
So, I say “Girl, ya gotta let it go.” Then, I say, don’t be stupid. I’ll be back. I’ll probably wander around the place for a while, but I’ll figure it out. I feel like down south needs a good try too. I’m not talking Florida resort towns. I’m thinking Louisiana, Mississippi, Georgia…the small towns. I feel like they’d have a good vibe too. And some great grub. :) Southern drawl? Please.
Driving back today, Wyatt and I talked about the insanity of Hope and how everyone feels the need to find a hubby (or woman), settle down, get a career (not just a job), and have kids. Wo. Appealing? That’s what we in the biz call a 10-4 negatory. A huge ya—hell no! Just another reason Hope drives me up a wall sometimes. It’s almost like this brainwashing effect the place has on you. Well, not me personally, but the general public. In the next few months, an insane amount of 21 and 22 year olds are going to get engaged…and like he said probably stay married for the rest of their lives even if they don’t want to. Nah thanks. Me clinging to that state of “youth” again? Maybe, but I’m not that ashamed. At all. Am I just cynical? For some reason, I don’t think so…not in the least. In fact, I’d say it’s completely opposite. If some quirky dude wants to take some trips, seek a few thrills, climb a couple mountains, teach me how to play my gee-tar, that sorta thing, well maybe we can work something out. But, probably not. :) “Gimme 10.” It’s not that I don’t want something like that, I just absolutely hate being restrained in what I want to do and how I’m going to do it…at least right now. I’m a little too spur of the moment for some boring bro. People keep telling me I’m going to run into to someone that “just fits…” I don’t even have anything to say. I just laugh. Doubtful. I’ve got plans. Big ones. And the funny thing about those plans is that I have no idea what they are, when I’ll do it, where I’ll be, or what exactly I’m going to do. That could freak some people out. But heck, maybe ! ;) Somebody that fits into that…all the better. General idea…love shouldn’t restrain. Love should encourage freedom and that vital life thing. Somebody who gets that, lives that…yes.
I hope you’re fine with wherever you’re at. No, not fine. I hope you’re an emphatic “goooood”…like good when you’re mom asks you how the coffee is and you can’t make it taste like that no matter how many times you try..so you nod your head and say “gooood” and take a sip.
…
…cuz people change.
Listen to: White Liar – Miranda Lambert (and laugh to yourself cuz you love and know her smirk.)
Do: My Papa BJ once told me you “gotta drink coffee like it’s your first kiss.” I miss ya buddy. I think we would be real tight.
Try: reeelax.
Think about this: “It ain’t that bad. Nobody died :)”
–Rub a little dirt in it.
<3 , chill time, and music.
The Monday before Thanksgiving is one of the best Monday’s ever. Given, I do have an Earth Systems exam at one o’clock. It’s alright… Mom, if you’re reading this I just said that in my head in that stupid little voice you do where your voice goes really high and you didn’t really say the “l”…and your eyes did the scrunch up thing. I don’t know if you know what I mean, but I do. Wow, doesn’t that make a ton of sense!
So, the other good Monday game plan?
-Vascular Plant Systematics – I’m not showering beforehand ;). Talking to Emily…probably on my computer and holding back laughter about some not-so-common mispronunciations.
-Health Dy – “Gym Class for College Kids” – jumping on that bike. If anything, it’ll give me a reason to shower :)
-EES – @ 1 pm. Exam # 3.
-Work @ 4.
- Caves @ 11 pm in BrumOne. Yes.
Have a good day.
I think the broken-hearted write the best love stories because they don’t take anything for granted.
RIP Khora Jean.
Pray for responsibility in the next few weeks.
Today, I’m thankful for:
… a good jam with that other-places sort of vibe.
… simple statements with profound implications.
… the fearless.
… a new league :)
… a sense of community.
… shared laughs.
… good friends, sisters, and family who support you, love you, and believe in you.
… that little chill in the air and the sleet last night. We’re closer.
… a chance to get back to right.
I stick loneliness, your lips and the two coins of your eyes into my pocket. Yaaa. ♫♥♪
She does this a lot. She’ll throw that dark coat on, pull a hat over that mess of hair and head for the park. It’s that type of cold out that if she were to walk back into her house and anyone were present enough to care, they’d smell the cold on her. Yeah, that type of cold. She cuts through the neighbor’s yard, across the parking lot and towards that little lit and friendly park. She likes it there. It’s easy to be alone there. There’s a bench off the diagonal extending from the center of the park that she’s cried and cried on before. But, she’s there for a different reason tonight. She just wanted to take a walk outside. So, she heads over to that loyal bench and pops a squat. She watches traffic along the main vein for a few minutes and then pulls her iPod out. While she doesn’t like being ignorant to the world, she likes a good jam.
So she’s sitting there, somewhat zoned out on the traffic and lights of greens and reds and blues and yellows. She jumps. She’s been staring at the traffic and now he’s sitting next to her and she didn’t realize it. She rips the headphones out of her ears. “Shnikeys. Hey, whatsup,” she asks, sort of out of breath. He’s laughing quietly and has the huge childish smile that goes all the way to his eyes. “Hey. Just thought I’d say hello.” Given, she’s glad it’s him, but she replies with a “Well, geez, thanks for the warning.” The two catch up a bit. Small talk…you know the boring stuff. Of course, they’re actually taking in each and every single word of the others. But, the conversations between these two, given the chance, could spark fire from nothing. But, she’s in a different world tonight. She’s turning on that cylinder when nobody else is. She asks herself if it could be awkward or if she’d regret saying it, but decides that that’d only be possible if she were afraid of the consequences or if she were looking for reciprocation. She’s not. “Hey, you’re beautiful, you know that right? In every single way.”
___
Go ahead and laugh ‘cuz it don’t cost much. -Dispatch
Alrighty, it’s Monday afternoon. I wrote this last night. In a word, it’s ugly. I wasn’t going to post it, but at the same time, I think it paints a pretty accurate picture of the mess that my little head is sometimes :). And I’m feeling a little better today.
______
Sometimes, the hardest part of writing for me is getting started. For some reason, I feel like I have to have a plan. It’s weird. Tonight, I decided (yet again) that I was just going to start writing.
Today has been the first time in years that I have felt so uncomfortable in my own skin. I’m not sure what it is. But, I’m clumsy and keep getting into awkward situations. I’m laughing it off, but to be honest, I’m not really enjoying the awkward as much as I usually do. It’s been like that all day. Let’s hope this ends soon. I thought that feeling was over a few years ago.
I’m kind of happy with what I did with myself today. At the end of the day, I’m not regretting not filling a perfectly good day. I woke up this morning on the couch ( I fell asleep watching TV last night…I couldn’t even tell you what it was. I wasn’t awake long enough.) . Anyhow, I drove over to Grandville by myself for church, talked to both parents and made my way back to Holland. I worked on cleaning up around the house and my stuff a little bit and then got a hold of Meg. Lately, we’ve been making an effort to get outside. So, I met up with her and we went to West Olive – Pigeon Creek Park. We ran the trails for a bit and then hiked until it got dark. I got back home, ran to Meijer to get something to make for dinner, and then went to the Gathering, which was absolutely packed, with Abby and Sam. Now, I’m sitting at Lemonjello’s drinking some coco tea. Full day? Check.
It’s been a weird day though. Kind of restful, but at the same time, I find myself a little bit anxious. Anxiety is an all too familiar feeling and I want to be completely over that stage in my life. I’ve learned so much today and listened to two different awesome speakers. I think I’ll save writing about that in its entirety for some other time. I say that though, and I may never write about it. I do know something though. The girl sitting next to me reading my journal over my shoulder at the Gathering is probably a little confused. That’s what you get. :) It just so happens the first paragraph you were reading was talking about me as a “killer and a whore.” Riddle yourself that. :) Nah, it’s kind of funny. At first I was just a little peeved. I’m not sure why. I share my thoughts on here a lot. But, she wasn’t even being that sneaky about reading what I consider to be pretty personal stuff. Then, I look at the top of the page that her eyes are burning a hole into and this is what it says:
- attend AA, SA, NA ? … Say I’m a killer and a whore.
- hang out with addicts
- what moves you into realms of darkness?
- darkness is where the light of God is meant to come through to us.
At least the last bullet was a bit inspirational, but as for the rest, she is probably concerned. That’s alright. Just check out Matthew 5 verses 21 through 30. Maybe you feel the same. Or, perhaps you were at Mars Hill this morning. Then, you may completely understand. I met a girl at Mars Hill today…seemed about my age. It was kind of nice to sit by someone else who was there by herself…to laugh with and learn with. Nice to meet you Jillian. Thanks for being friendly.
Facts:
- 70 percent of women in the Congo have been violently raped.
- The degradation of men, women, and children is a 12 Billion dollar industry, only 2 of that the “soft” kind. The other? Violence and children. Tell me you’re not disgusted. Tell me that’s not wrong.
- What do 87% of 25-35 year olds think of when they hear the term “Christian?” Answer: self-righteous. We need to change drastically.
What I need to say:
I am indeed a mess.
I need to work out my purpose or at least move towards it. It’s hard when you aren’t sure of your gifts. I’m hoping to have a little chat with Kate. She’s always helpful and clarifying.
I want to live radically. I don’t know how.
I have been mad at myself for too long. How can I expect anyone else to love me when I can’t come close?
I cried out of disgust today.
Everytime I get angry with someone it’s because of my own shortcomings or insecurities. That’s not right. Anger is me masking my own judgemental self: not right.
She said it’s alright
She said no don’t die alone
There’s no goodbyesLightning comes and lightning goes
And it’s all the same to me
Let it in
Cuz I want you so
I can hardly breathe or release
Into one thousand pieces
I have broke into
Over you
The chain will soon be gone,
I keep burning on and on and on…
Did you get what you wanted?
Did you get what you wanted?
Did you get what you wanted?-3eb – Bonfire (from Ursa Major)
__________________________
I’m stuck in a rutt and I’m stressed and today I am unhappy. And it’s frustrating, because attitude is everything and I still can’t pull myself out of it. Happiness is a choice in a way. Perhaps, that’s not true. Instead, I think it should be something along the lines of “the perspective you take on everything is a choice.” I’m trying, but everytime I do, I’m better for a while, then it comes full circle and I think “Maybe I just jumped the gun.” But, it’s been a while, that’s not a fair assumption anymore…which equates to me spinning out in a rutt just flinging mud up into my own eyes.
A few people have told me that they read this (anonymously and in the open). I really appreciate your feedback, comments, and encouragement. :) I’m not sure if I’m really a good writer, nor does it really matter, but I’m always so pleased when people comment because it means that somehow I’ve related to you, and I think that is really important. Writing, for me anyways, has always been a way to relate, to vent, to get ideas out, and most importantly for me: to paint a picture of the magic you envision…hopes, dreams, written paintings of the things you want to say in a way that does the feeling justice. Anyways, thanks for your sweet time. Sorry the past few chunks of blog haven’t been very encouraging or upbeat, but that’s life right? “It ain’t always beautiful.” ;) I also love reading, so if any of you do happen to write yourselves, I’d be more than happy to get in your head and hear what you have to say. Link me your thoughts. :) I love you all. Thanks.
She comes home absolutely frustrated. All day, it’s been coming at her from all angles. She’s flustered to the point that you can see the tension in her jaw. She whips that black F-150 into the driveway, gunning it down that quarter mile two-track. She comes to a halt, dust still rising under the tires and she’s already climbing the porch steps. Keys still dangling and swaying from the ignition. Throws the door open, kicks her hikers off, and throws her bag on the kitchen table. Then she’s in her room. She rips her hair out of that stupid pony tail, rips that ugly polo off and throws on a wifebeater and the dirty jeans from yesterday’s hike. Heading out the door she grabs her worn-looking Ariats (and they deserve it, she didn’t pay for them to look that old). She sits down on the top step…her dogs whining 20 yards away. She pulls on her boots, jumps up and takes off behind the house, mumbling something, almost on the verge of tears. Behind the house, she open ups the broad barn doors. The second stall on the right is where she’s heading. It’s Mae, her way-to-cooperative-for-an-Arab sidekick. She leads her out by the halter, makes a quick exchange between the black halter and the nearest bridle and she’s heading towards the back door. She doesn’t have time to deal with a saddle right now. She needs out. She opens it with one hand and then brings her horse out. Left hand grasping the reins and the withers and right hand on the opposite side of the horse’s back, she pulls herself up. “C’mon babe. Let’s go,” she whispers.
The pair return shortly after nine o’clock. Dusk is settling in and the dogs have went back to their respective straw piles. Sad puppy eyes, but that little wag in the tail when they see their girl. She locks Mae up and closes up the barn. Then let’s that huge breath out.
Sometimes, you have moments of utter inspiration, thoughts you can’t wait to spill, that sort of thing. Other times, like right about now, everything’s just this nondescript mess of thoughts, that may be nudging you, but aren’t necessarily driving you crazy, upsetting you, exciting you, or even just nagging at you that horribly. So, tonight (or early this morning, I guess) I’m just going to write. It’s not going to be good. It’s not going to be cohesive. It may not even make that much sense to you.
I just caught up on listening to Rob Bell. What stuck out to me?
- I ask that You please meet me in the very, very grey. And I know that You have before. With a ladder or a rope? Nope. A cross.
- Matt 5 v. 10
- The world gives us two options. I want more, because there are.
- Think about this: God sends the sun and rain to both sides. The right, the wrong, the good, the bad…labels we hand out willingly, and without authority.
- The Bible never uses the word “Christianity.” The term “Christian” is used only thrice.
- “Disciple” is used 263 times. Think about that and the implications of the idea of “religion.”
- Joshua 5v13 – Take off your sandals Joshua (insert: Dani) ! Have a bigger perspective.
- And last but definitely not least, Christ as my identity, not some job, occupation, value to society, man, friend, salary, poor habits, achievement…
Yesterday, I was sitting at work. Honestly, I’d been thinking about it and I decided I was going to make a concentrated effort to actually relate and connect to every person I said “hello” or “have a good night” to, all the time considering that these exchanges usually last all of three seconds. I kept telling myself that I was not going to be that person that asks “How are you?” and doesn’t listen to the answer. It was really bothering me. So I did. I’m sitting at the door. It’s Fall. I can see out the doors. I’ve got my left leg pulled up to my chest, kind of just looking outside, not staring at my computer or planner or book or notebook at the time and a girl walks downstairs. I use the term girl, but after I tell this story, maybe the term “woman” is more accurate. I look at her as she comes downstairs and tell her to have a good night and smile. It’s a lot easier to smile when someone else is smiling. It is one of the most contagious acts in the world. (That and yawning.) She’s a beautiful person…the type of girl with eyes that let you know she’s a “joyful spirit” and she’s in engaged in this whole thing. Eyes say a lot. She leaves, and it’s relatively quiet and slow in the Dow, so I go back to doing whatever it was that I was doing on my computer. The girl had left the Dow completely, but about a minute later (enough time to think a little bit), she comes back in. I smile and say “Did ya’ forget something?” And, this beautiful person holds out this book and asks if I’ve read it. I glance at the title (“Captivating”) and tell her “Nope, I haven’t.” She asked if I was a reader and I said yes. So, she asked if I wanted it. Not if I wanted to borrow it until next Tuesday, but if I wanted it. Me, though: “To borrow?” She says “Yeah.” She tells me how it is similar to “Wild at Heart,” which I’ve heard of… a book aimed towards the male species. It’s also written by the same couple. So I accept willingly and ask her if she’s usually there on Tuesday nights. She says “Yes, I’m usually here earlier.” I told her I’d try to bring it back on Tuesdays when I work now, but she could have cared less if she got that book back. I thanked her and read the back of the book and she left. It’s so funny how life works out. She could have so easily not had that book with her, not came out those doors at that time, not even really taken notice of me, but she did. I texted my roomie and my best friend and told her how something “really weird” had just happened. Please, take into consideration what the back is about. I tried to find the writing from the back of the book, but here is the editorial review. Same idea.
Every woman was once a little girl. And every little girl holds in her heart her most precious dreams. She longs to be swept up into a romance, to play an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, to be the Beauty of the story. Those desires are far more than child’s play. They are the secret to the feminine heart. And yet—how many women do you know who ever find that life? As the years pass by, the heart of a woman gets pushed aside, wounded, buried. She finds no romance except in novels, no adventure except on television, and she doubts very much that she will ever be the Beauty in any tale. Most women think they have to settle for a life of efficiency and duty, chores and errands, striving to be the women they “ought” to be but often feeling they have failed. Sadly, too many messages for Christian women add to the pressure. “Do these ten things, and you will be a godly woman.”The effect has not been good on the feminine soul. The message of Captivating is this: Your heart matters more than anything else in all creation. The desires you had as a little girl and the longings you still feel as a woman—they are telling you of the life God created you to live. He offers to come now as the Hero of your story, to rescue your heart and release you to live as a fully alive and feminine woman. A woman who is truly captivating.
Then, I think for the entire .001 seconds it takes to realize how relevant this is to so many of the thoughts I’ve had lately and the internal conflict that’s there, but that I may not bring to the forefront of my concerns. Thank you Maria, I consider this book a timely gift from a well-intentioned and beautiful woman not afraid to step outside the box and take a little chance. Who were you to know that I’d be a Christian or even remotely interested or open to a new idea? Thank you, thank you, thank you. I started reading it last night.
Related, but remotely: my small group had breakfast this morning at the Windmill at 7:15 in the morning. I loved it. I wasn’t feeling well, but at the same time the fellowship was great. The week before though, when we met in Graves, somebody brought something up. It was about angels. How often do you think about angels? I got so excited. Girls questioning whether you would know if you encountered an angel or if they’re among us. Loving the magic in life, I choose to hope for the latter. I want to live with the idea that these people that I approach (or better yet, approach me) could indeed be placed gifts. Think about it. Can you think of anyone in your life that you have this inkling could be something bigger than you know…and if there are, do they know it? It’s so fun and whimsical in a childhood way to think about this. I have a few in mind.
Okay, I haven’t been feeling very well physically at all. My throats been really sore, my body aches unbelievably for how little activity I’ve subjected myself to lately and I’ve had some intense headaches, so I’m going to go back home before I get a ticket for having my car on the road. I love all of you. Enjoy this Fall season. It’s getting cold so fast. Appreciate your friends. Appreciate little but thoughtful gifts. Love on your family. Okay? Hugs and love and health and happiness. Good night.
___
One last thing. Perhaps this should have gone first and foremost.
Brandon Steffey, You are a hero.
Thank you. I pray that those around us realize that your efforts will never be considered in vain. I pray for the family of Army Specialist Steffey. I thank God for men like you willing to put your life on the line for the liberties so many of us take for granted every day. I pray for healing and the passage of time for the family of Brandon. I thank God that you were able to live such a happy, yet short life. I’m appreciative for all of you overseas and still in the U.S. Thanks to you, thanks to your brothers and sisters and best friends and canine companions, all working for us. Thank you thank you thank you. I am so sorry for the loss of your husband, father, son, friend grandson…Steffey family. You’re in my prayers. Knowing that that flag outside of the Dewitt is only half-mast because of someone I attended high school withs death brings me to tears, and then knowing that there are many more. Pray for our troops. Please don’t forget that they are doing what they do for YOU. I don’t care what your thoughts are on the war. They are there for YOU and I alike. R.I.P. Brandon
Sitting on the roof, she hear’s the door next door open. Dang.
She tiptoes to the opposite edge, the other side of that upside-down V, sort of apprehensive.
The door slams.
Stop thinking about it, damnit.
She jumps off.
Lands in a slight squat and begins to creep around the corner.
“Holy, you think you’re bulletproof or what?”
Apparently there was a guy in his early twenties, smoking by the streetlight, unlike her he’s abiding by those stupid college rules…20 feet from the building.
Not really catching her off guard, but admittedly she didn’t realize he was there, she responds with a little laugh and a “No…” and continues to creep around the side of the house.
Walking away, she laughs to herself. I’m bombproof.
On the back of a motorbike
With your arms outstretched, trying to take flight
Leaving everything behind
But even at our swiftest speed
We couldn’t break from the concrete
And the city where we still reside-”Brothers On a Hotel Bed” by Death Cab for Cutie
________________________
She’s wearing those tattered jeans, paled and worn because they’re her favorite. They’re like this by choice, not necessity, but she couldn’t care less either way. She’s got those old brown shoes on that she never wanted to throw away. They’re those boy’s Reefs she bought on sale when she was in high school. The lining is ripped, but she digs them and isn’t afraid if they get a little dirty. She’s got her mom’s pullover on. It’s big on her, so no doubt her mother was absolutely swimming in it. Hair in that stupid three-second knot, go figure. A few wisps hanging around her face.
She’s got her husky with her. She knows that she’ll stay a good hundred yards away or so, but never further. Every once in a while she does a drive-by of sorts within twenty feet. Just checking on her girl. They’ve got no worries out here though. The closest people are a good three miles away. She jumped in the car with her dog about an hour ago and just drove. She’s never told anyone about this spot, and she’d like to keep it that way. That little white sibe lay in the back of the car the entire way, except to get up once and nudge her girl in the shoulder about half way and then once again when the car was slowing. The girl gets out first, her pup crawling out the driver’s side behind her. Although these visits aren’t necessarily a normal occurence, they both know the routine.
Dog in tow, the girl starts towards that sunset along that tractor path. The grains around her match the color of her hair, now that it’s lost that baby blonde she used to have. Golds and browns and blondes, just a mess. They walk for a half hour. Nothing but the sound of the crickets and the shuffling of grains when the pup goes off-trail.
Finally, they come to that row of hay bales. The pup leaps first, but the girl springs up beside her. Grabs her pup around the shoulders as they sit by one another, then lets her go and the dog leaps off again.
She’s left sitting there, staring at the low spot in the sky that the sun seems to dangle in. She shifts in her spot, sitting indian-style, hands in her lap. But, that’s not quite comfortable. She pulls her knees to her chest and hugs her legs. That’s it. Chin resting on her knees, she sits and waits.
