the monthly

no, this isn't about my menstrual cycle.
i guess i've been a consistent once-a-month-blogger.
how much does that suck? it's a lot like getting home to check your blank calendar, only to discover that you left it at work and then to remember that it's empty, and sitting on your ass, not doing a thing for hours. only to remember that you haven't written in a month...
as much as it sucks, i'm better at this than calling my family [even the new, biological one that i am slowly becoming acquainted with]. though i love them, truly, [madly?], deeply. . . i find it difficult to communicate with humans quite often.
i hope this will get better.
i will leave it up to time to tell.
without further adeue,
goodnight.

the last year

The last year has been full of surprises and well planned moments.
Highlights:

1. I met my mother. The woman who gave birth to me, whom I never thought I would come in contact with.
It came as a surprise, though I was completely prepared and absolutely ready. It was perfect. It has been one year since it started with a surprise meeting in a natural food store.

2. I got a job and have been insane. BUT I am learning more than I had ever expected, and am grateful for the opportunity to be with the amazing people who inhabit Central City East.

3. I have been the subject of many confusions: a. I am not 17, or younger, I am 24 years old, I don't care how old you think I look, I have in fact lived for 24 years. b. I am Jewish, but I do not know Hebrew, I do not have a dradle, I don't want to be a lawyer, I don't think, and I do not know much about what it really means to carry this heritage, thank you for the reminder, I am learing. c. No, I will not sleep with you, nor will I do this, that, or the other thing. For some reason, some men find it fitting to whistle and blow kisses and holler crude and suggestive comments at me.

4. Dating is a strange game. I have this thing called a boyfriend now, and people think my life is suppsed to be drastically different. All I know, is that it is nice to have a friend who thinks I'm beautiful and cares more about consistency than some people I have known for years. I am grateful for the people who are consistent in my life. I often find myself wondering how they do it, and why they would want to commit to me, but I am grateful, and I am glad that they chose to 'date' me and commit in various ways. I pray I might be a friend like boyfriends apparently are. I hope to have been purposeful this last year. And consistent. If not, I have this year to make up for it.

5. I ate meat only a few times, and I found that it is not as appealing as I once thought. The occasions were as follows: one - in Kansas City, the occasion called for compliance and consideration of a gracious host offering me barbeque. two - at Ivy's house. She made a chicken pot pie and invited me over for dinner. I hate chicken, but this was pretty good. three - on Hannukah at the schleimers, the had lamb, I ate lamb. it was kosher, and i think feel okay about that. it tasted delicious. four - my grandmother made a pot roast and turkey on the same holiday and said, 'You love potroast, you must eat it!' and scowled. In spite I had three bites of the roast and two of the turkey. All I could think of was the farm that the beef came from and shit. fumes from corn fed bovine produced fecal matter floating in the air, moving throughout the atmosphere and into my nostrils as i consumed the lovely and salty meat prepared by the beautiful woman i call 'gram cracker.' and I still think Turkey tastes like chemicals.

6. Cody at church was one of the most beautiful moments I could have ever imagined. he looks like me, he plays the ukelele, and he loves peace and loves love more than most human beings i have ever met. I hope to be like him someday.

7. realising that it doesn't take a degree in anything to love people like Jesus. this has been an ongoing process, but getting down on myself for not having my transcripts because of a second semeste language course, has bothered me a lot. i have felt in adequate. this is obsurd. i am going to take this dumb test again soon and try to pass it. if i do not, i will take the class and hopefully be done with it.

8. today, you are enough. you are beautiful, and you are loved by the Creator of the universe. let that be okay and let it be enough.
this has been a phrase that has gone through my head often and if not daily, certainly weekly. it may have changed my life in many positive ways.

9. i blogged more consistently this last year than i think i ever have in my life.
i hardly wrote anything down. i am excited for the hope of writing in the future.

10. there is a blue jay in the back patio of the condo i live in with heidi. she has been one of the most significant blessings in my life in the last year, and I don't think she knows. it. but i am grateful.

richmond, va. haves and have nots... and a few big BUTS

a short, and fairly poorly communicated reflection, for the sake of doing something in this moment...

whats that i have
1. a lot to think about since our return from sojourners mobilisation to end poverty
2. many thoughts on what poverty looks like to the wealthy
3. lots of things (like clothing, books - on poverty and slavery and history, accessories, 'necessary' items, etc...)
4. things i don't need (clothing, books, accessories)
5. things i do need (food? water? clothing?)
6. things that carry meaning (my owl necklace, the one i never wear)
7. questions about meaning (thank you to the philosophers)
8. access to resources
9. an education
10. an ethnic history of oppression, that i do not immediately identify with
11. too much?
12. enough?
13. more which i am currently forgetting...

whats that i have not
1. answers to every question 'why'
2. my bachelors degree
3. a master's degree
4. dark skin or a sub-standard way of living
5. pure understanding (from experience) of the issues that i am so passionate about
6. written enough in the last few months
7. as many tattoos as i think one should have at this point in their life
8. read as much as my friends
9. a strong notion of purpose driven effective behavior
10. cast my vote for a presidential candidate
11. shared my story, God's story, enough
12. lost sight, though i have been close
13. apple sauce (it sounded good)
14. finished as much as i would like

in all of these things i feel a failure, or accomplished, and they are often things that, of my own volition, it is likely might happen, or may not ... BUT in all of it ...
1. i am hopeful because of the sacrifice of Christ and in the God who is and was and is to come
2. i will always be aware of the time that we all have been given in each breath to praise and glorify God
3. i know that answers will come
4. though there is much to accomplish, i remember that much has been accomplished
5. Christ has conquered, that I might move forward in hope, amidst my own selfishness and pride
6. there is hope in waiting and embracing the gift of time
7. there is enough, always enough, for the Kingdom

Praise be to God for all that we have, be it a little or a lot, for our lives, and for the ability that we have to join with the saints and sing, Hallelujah.

more to come. better things. someday.

To Do List

1. Learn more about, and write a midrash
2. Write more about people you've never met, like the giant man on the metro
3. Post something you've written
4. Be a better friend
5. Learn who your friends are - I often wonder if this task will last for my entire life - will you be my friend?
6. Make more 'to do' lists and check things off
7. figure out how to make boxes in the blogging text, check this one off

story for work

this is a story i had to write for my americorps job... i had to write it pretty fast, so it hasn't been edited, but i've been busy lately, and haven't posted much, so here's this...

In the corner of the park on San Julian and 5th St. on Skid Row in Los Angeles, California, is an angel. As the morning sun shone on the old brick building that was parallel to the street, the ivy shone a deep shade of green, the leaves holding the light like a child holding a precious gift. The westerly wall, a faded cream color, probably ‘Swiss White Mocha’ or another factory option with an equally appealing name to it, created a casual corner for empty benches and dead shrubberies which lined it. By the gate, the proverbial scent of marijuana and grape bubble gum infuses the air. It took me five months to notice this angel, but when I finally did, it changed my life.
Just outside the park, on the bus stop sign a woman hangs and dangles. She is one of many women who often keep themselves up by holding on to this not-so-sturdy post. When I stop to wonder and really think about who these women are and what they might need, I am often baffled at the seemingly impossible means through which they are forced to survive. My heart aches for a moment in the beauty of the day and the sorrow before me; then she stops, and smiles at me, so I smile back, because it is all that I have to give, and I am reminded of the angel in the corner, and remember that angels don’t always show their wings.
Turning the next corner onto San Pedro, walking towards Union Rescue Mission, and the building where our after-school program meets, watching my feet, being sure not to step on the cracks, because, Aaliyah, one of the Kindergarteners in our program says that one should not step on them, I watch as a stray drop of spit from the man yelling obscenities hits my shoe. It could be worse, I think as I continue walking, wondering if I’m late. The man went on and on about the injustices in Los Angeles, the United States, the world. He stopped for a moment when he got to Africa, and then shouted, “But there is hope! There is hope!” I smiled as Pete Seeger sang, “We shall overcome” in my headphones. There he stood, yet another angel on the corner, shouting for justice, and proclaiming hope where it is so desperately needed.
As I walked into the building thinking of all the mess that is this world we live in, I got excited to see Bam Bam, Aaliyah’s older brother who is autistic and has ADHD. Bam Bam is unable to participate daily in our program, but he stops by at the end of every day with his mother to pick up his younger sister. I have known him for about 5 months now. He used to run in, wreaking havoc however he could, slamming doors, turning lights off or on, hitting people, throwing things, etc… Knowing that there was little I personally could do to keep him from doing these things, I decided to try talking to him, asking him silly questions, knowing full well that he might never verbalise his answers to me. That day, walking into our building, it was so exciting to walk into our building and remember Bam Bam playing with his favorite game, “Let’s Go Fishin,” and yelling, “Bishy!” (his version of my name, Misty) when I walked in. The smile on his face sincere and mischievous, I wondered what he might do. Expecting him to run around and throw a fish at someone, or to turn the lights off, I was so pleasantly surprised when he ran up and hugged me, and then returned to his game in the corner by himself. With the hood of his oversized sweatshirt hanging on his crouched back, for a moment, it almost looked as if Bam Bam had a wing, and was preparing to take flight towards the heavens.
These angels remind me each day of the beauty that exists in this world. That, though sometimes a situations may appear dire or intimidating, with patience and a smile, and the willingness to notice and pay attention to what often seems unimportant, we might be reminded that there is in fact hope, a great deal of it in fact.

repose

hildegard von bingen is a woman who i have a great deal of respect for. having lived from (roughly around) 1098-1179, she was one of the earliest feminists on record. she wrote about womens lives in unique ways and empowered creation to move towards God. in an effort to train myself in the art of research, i may consume more of my 'blog real estate' on her.

until then, i think i'll rest a bit from writing, unelss something particularly good flows from the tips of these cold and dry hands.

felicity

On a telephone pole sat a dripping seagull. It had been a quiet, peaceful day, but the night in her little suburban town turned stormy. When a gust of wind uprooted her from her perch, she went soaring, straight down into the water below. While falling, she adjusted her feathers and wings to take flight, but with a broken wing, things like this are quite difficult. Upon contact with the water, frustrated yet unwilling to consign herself to a fate of drowning in 3 feet of water in a blow-up kiddy pool, in a strangers backyard. . . she thrust herself up with every bit of strength that she could muster, and floated -as awkwardly as any soaking bird with a broken wing would- to the top of the lowest pole and assumed her position; waiting and watching. 

At least her eyes were still good.

trial one

so much for deadlines... i'm 23 minutes late... but somehow, that seems slightly appropriate.

in looking through old journals, hoping that i might find some gem to throw up here, and not taking as much time as would seem necessary, i found beautiful stories and great memories that i'd written down, and kept through pictures, etc...

though i'm not posting any of them now, i think tomorrow i'll start a series of notes from old books, perhaps looking back will inspire something new.

remembering has always been a useful tool for me. perhaps looking backwards will help me move forwards.

until next time,

peace & love,
the mist

22 january 2009

writing deadline #1:

23:23
23 january 2009.

because 23 was my favorite number when i was 6.

because 2 times 3 was 6.

and 6 was my golden birthday, and that was supposed to mean something.

and because it is 24 hours from when i started writing this post.

the one

so, i think i'm ready.
it's time.
i have been coming into myself lately and i feel really good about this.
i have even been shopping at, you know, less usual places than the mall and church.
though i wish i could find 'the one' at bake sales or consignment stores, i'm not quite sure that those would be the best places.
rummage sales maybe?... coffee shops can be good, but they are usually only good for the eclectic, "i won't last as long as you'd like you would like me to," type.
i am looking for strong, and soft, the right amount of delicate - yet sturdy, and long lasting. this is one of those "love at first sight" and way beyond "just like" situations...
when i find the right one, the one...
the whole world, i think, will stop and say, "yeah, that bag looks real good."

the winds words

[from 17 december 2008]

The wind, blowing through the
alleys, streets, buildings, windows, screens, cracks above, under and on the sides of doors
speaks to us.
Her language is foreign even to the birds she carries. She speaks of distant things - far off evils and the good that wards them off.
She speaks of a Creator, of Love; telling stories through the leaves, grasses and mountain passes.
She careens and bends to pour out the stories of old. She holds the past and rushes forward the future in present movements.
In her absence we find both comfort and fear.
In her gusts we experience surprise. She tears down. She builds up.
Her medium is sand, leaves, earth, water, and foam.
She thrusts snow from mountaintops and rivers are made.
In her movement, years are destroyed.
Memories overthrown.
In her is power.
In her is gentleness; the fresh breath of life give to each creature.
She caresses the faces of children in the sun and lifts their bodies and spirits on rainy days.
She dances in the fields and inspires flowers on their way.
She moves light.
In her many desires are birthed.
In her, fear and joy meet, elated.
She carries tears and drops them where life may be found.

Listen to her words; patiently.


[also, happy new year! if you read this, thanks - i hope you enjoy; if you don't and just stumbled upon it, cool... peace to y'all]

the end of water

watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFJP1MArY74

legos-and stopping the streams of consciousness

where do we belong?

is it here, in this place? 

or is there in that?

does each piece have a mate or do some float on their own?

are we encompassed in the mess of it all, surrounded on each side?

where is the room to breathe? what is the shape we make?

are we in the right place?

am i in the right place?

am i with the right set, or did i come in the wrong box?

fitting together. nestled. yellow, black, white, red, green, orange and blue. 

what do we see? what do they see?

where do i belong? red, black, green, yellow, white, orange, and blue.

i suppose someone will place me sooner or later.

i wonder what i am, and where i'll go.

missing peter pan

i feel like there's something between us, and i don't mean the buildings.

it feels like i have hit a wall, and there's no getting past it. 

when did it happen? was it you? is it something i did? is it simply nature taking her course?

i felt so good about letting go, and still do, to be honest. but i sometimes wonder what you think when we're together... 

does she still like me? should i distance myself so that she doesn't? 

it's really none of my business what you think. we're friends though, right?... or were anyway. what happened?

did your wondering carry you too far into the realm of make-believe? 

i know mine did. i allowed myself to think that maybe someday, if you were willing, something could be good. 

something could even be safe. 

but did i hurt you there? in the wondering? i'm sorry if i did. and i am sorry if it's that which keeps us from the friendship we once had. i miss it. 

i miss you.

after the wondering, i find life outside of the daydream i enjoyed for so long to be mundane. simple. 

i can like it, if i choose.

i feel like i am growing up. leaving all those un-reciprocated feelings in the past. 

i guess we all have to leave neverland sometime. 

maybe you are peter pan, and i am wendy. 

you, the boy who in his curiosity and playfulness, forgot his friend, who had to return home. 

away from the fairy tale, and from love. 

or maybe it's the other way around, and this fairy tale is carrying me away.

i have a thimble if ever you decide to come and get it. you left your shadow here too, but that too will soon pass.

the sun will shine anew on the things that once held the memory of you.

conversations and dead insects

i killed a bug today. it was by accident. i was walking and stepped on it. i was watching the little creature walk along, thinking to myself, hey, you should be careful so as to not step on that little thing... and then i stepped on it because the velocity at which my foot was falling to the ground and the time it took for my brain to send the message to my foot were off... and a life was lost.

i also got to talk to a dear friend of mine, one i haven't talked to in quite some time,  over the phone. i kind of suck on the phone. but talking to aaron reminded me of the beauty of technology, and how grateful i am to be able to talk to my friends who are so far away.

if you're reading this, and we're friends, i apologise for my lack of communication. i suck over the phone, and often in person. i'm not very good at taking time to email people, or facebook them, or even do the skype thing.

i'm working on it, but let's be honest, i get lost in other worlds, and sometimes forget how to live in this one. (by this one, i mean the one outside of blog world and the one that my hands and feet and lungs are existing in, while this blog version of me is simply a franchised version of myself...)

on that note, i'm off to the world of dreams and sleep.

dreamer, where are you off to? 

i'm off to life! where else would i go.

nowhere, you would stay here with me and be content, exclaimed the muse.

i have to leave, but i'm sure we'll meet each other again, sometime soon.

over and out good buddy.

i got published once...

things that happen;

i am awake and so unaware

fans blowing from computers, stovetops,

bathrooms, ceilings, 

& engines.

lights blinking from off, to on, then off, on, and then back to off again.

lights in houses, garages, grocery stores, hallways,

bedrooms, closets, caves, refrigerators, under lampshades,

over mirrors and garage doors

above the front door, back door, & side door of my house.

Christmas lights, hanging lanterns and all the other lights...

metal against metal:

buzzing, scraping, ringing, and resonating

on earrings, in the dishwasher, change in your pocket.

clinking chains on a bicycle as the tires rotate, 

bells in a clock tower, on a harp, guitar strings & bass strings,

cello & violin.

people clapping their hands

when they're excited

and gasping

out of anger.

snapping their fingers cracking their knuckles

biting

their nails

kneading dough, picking their noses, picking their pimples

feeling newspaper, rubbing their clothing.

stirring

wafting incense, smoking cigarettes, folding laundry.

brushing their hair, petting animals, petting people, 

petting themselves

love and fear...

'there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love...'

i john 4.18

that's the verse of the day according to the sojourners email i got today at 1.09 pm

it reminds me that i'm not ready... i'm a little scared and am not sure if i really know how to love.

i still need to sit at the door before i can truly participate in this story of love, hope, and life.

--

it reminds me of when i was in the 7th grade and my friend brian was too scared to ride the batman ride at magic mountain. since he didn't think he could handle it, we went on 'goldrusher,' a much milder ride with absolutely no line (for pretty good reason), about 21 times-maybe more... we just kept getting off and jumping in 'line' and riding it over and over again. we sat in different seats so that we could get a different perspective each time... and because the alternative was too scary. when i tried to push him to move on, because i thought he was ready; he pushed back and i still have a scar on my shoulder to prove it.

--

thank you for your patience as i keep riding this roller coaster. i'd really like to go on the next one, but i don't think i've quite got this one figured out yet. i know if i try to move on too soon, i'll get a scar, or i might give you one, and i'm not sure if i can handle that right now.

thanks for your patience. 

over and out.

for another day

at the end of a day

filled with utmost joy and deep

dreadful sorrow

i remember

i am so young

it has been quite some time since i truly considered all that i have left to experience

those dreams undone

faces unseen

hands unheld

voices unheard

words unsaid

lovers unknown

as i lie in my bed

thinking on these things

i remember to save those thoughts and desires

keep waiting i tell myself

for another day

the commitment

i'm going to blog. often. i need to write. please read, and comment, and let me know your thoughts when you have them.

1. when they first met. quandries on being vulnerable

I know all too well the struggle with feelings, motives, whether or not to feel pain... yadda yadda yadda...

here's a story... there was a helicopter that was flying overhead. it was really low and really loud. I was leaning on the wall and could feel myself vibrating. the helicopter was so close that I could feel the vibrations intensely as it flew close overhead. this whole feeling thing is like trying to convince myself that although i could hear the helicopter, it wasn't actually there and i wasn't really feeling anything at all. it would be like denying the fact that my body was forced into movement. Regardless of whether we acknowledge them or not, things are happening all around us that cause us to feel.

Sometimes it's a simple vibration of the wall from the flight of a helicopter. sometimes, it's the intense and uncontrollable shaking of our beings because of the movement of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Other times its the soft pitter patter of our hearts when a man whom we are attracted to walks into the room. it's in the shaking of our fists because we don't know where to go in life, or what to do, or who to turn to. it's the involuntary shaking of our bodies because its cold and we have no clothes and are malnourished because we live on the streets and have nothing...
Feeling is personal, hard, wonderful, confusing, painful at times, awkward and uncomfortable, strange, alarming, but also joyful, beautiful and most importantly, very real.

On Walkabout during my solo time I spent a lot of time reading "the word." I was immersed in Ezekiel and read all about the pain and the suffering and judgement that Israel went through. But... there are always "buts". . . someday I'd love to give a sermon on God's BIG "But(t)" (in hindsight, perhaps I'd call it something along the lines of, "What happens when God's big ass gets in the way"). So, Ezekiel: in chapter 36 vs 22-37 (focusing on 24-27) God gives this beautiful promise of new, clean, life. V. 26 says "...I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh."
Now, I LOVE this! God forgives, cleanses and makes new our lives! He, or She, removes these hearts of stone that don't feel, and once broken, cannot be fixed. These weigh our flesh down; stone is heavy and a burden that flesh can only bear so long. God gives us a heart of flesh-meaning a few things: 1) our hearts and bodies are complete, no longer opposed to one another; 2) we get a new chance to feel - something that doesn't really work with stone; and 3) as a part of this feeling, we are given the opportunity for vulnerability! Flesh allows us to feel. Sometimes that involves pain. Sometimes it does not. But the AMAZING thing about flesh is that it heals. In fact, it is self healing! God allows our hearts to feel, be broken yes, but also to be healed from that brokenness. This allows us to feel immense pleasure, and grave pain. And through it all, there is healing and peace. Yes-flesh bleeds, it is scratched, can be cut deeply, and unlike stone, these happen rather easily, BUT also unlike stone, it heals!

[And now more about boys] After my last relationship, for a time I felt worthless. pitiful. idiotic. unfaithful. bitter. dirty... need I say more? And then, at the RA retreat, I got that letter I had written to myself that last day of walkabout. (I'll mention, that usually I hate these things). It didn't say much, which isn't like me (as you can see from this lovely lengthy email). All it said was: "pray for your brother Tommy-and love him, he needs love. remember that you have been created for a beautiful purpose. examine your life and all that God is teaching you- what is God teaching you? stop and think about it. If you still have feelings for [him], pray about it, consider why God has put this amazing friend in your life (is stuff still going on with [her]? if it is, be patient, if it isn't, be patient-basically BE PATIENT). And lastly, if you've forgotten it: you're forgiven, but go back and read Ezekiel 36:22-37. Do whatever you need to feel and make YHWH's name known! and read psalm 103-remember how it made you cry?"

After reading my strangely simple letter to myself I was overwhelmed with feelings! Lots of them! I read the scriptures and couldn't believe how much God had prepared that letter, just a silly piece of paper with words, that I knew would be meaningless, for that time in my life. It's pretty amazing the things we tell ourselves to do then forget. I couldn't believe how prophetic it was. It was ridiculous! Everything about my brother, stopping and thinking about what God was teaching me, stuff with boys and friends, the scripture - everything! It all helped me feel more in my heart than I had truly felt in a long time. Not only was it ok to be vulnerable, it was this little gift that God had given me. Yeah, it would be hard, yeah I might get hurt - in fact, I would get hurt, but it was good, or okay. and now I can say that it IS good.

Back to your email about feelings, I totally understand the fear of closeness - but it takes vulnerability to be close. I am completely afraid to take risks. Because I'm selfish. Full of pride! When I like someone, I find myself longing to tell him how i feel. Talk about vulnerable! But I have to ask myself "mist, what are your motives? do you want him to know because you want him to be madly in love with you?" - yes - "do you think he likes you? why would he like you?" ... and then I start thinking about other things "why should he like you?" and then... "why is this about you? What about him??" That's the hard question. I then realize that my motives, where they should be giving my friend freedom, and helping him see the Living God in our friendship, and having freedom in the Life that God gives, but instead, I am making it about me. Risks are good. Risk is important in the life of faith, and when I hear God telling me that I need to tell him, if that ever happens, I will. Until then, like I told myself to do on walkabout, I will be patient. I have to realize that so much of these thoughts and wishes that I have about/for him, have been centered on me. I need to ask myself, is he ready for a relationship? I know him well enough to know that he really isn't. At least not at this point in his life. Maybe when he gets back from Romania he will be. But if he is, does that mean he should be in a relationship with me? And then the infamous answer: wait. He hasn't even left for Romania yet, and here I am trying to figure out how he'll be when he gets back. I am beginning to think that waiting is a risk too. I don't know what will happen to him in Romania, I don't know what will happen to me in Thailand. Maybe I'll get back and have no feelings for him, which I kind of doubt, but that isn't entirely possible. And what if I were to tell him how I felt before we both left (respectively) and he didn't like me then, but then when he returned he did, only to find out that I felt nothing for him anymore. This scenario could play itself out in my mind over and over and get completely out of control -or- I can wait. Which I am doing. When I get back from Thailand, I know that I'm going to see him. He might actually give me a ride home from the airport, and if I don't see him then, it's likely he'll be at church on Sunday. If not then, eventually, I know we'll see each other, I know we'll hang out. It's inevitable. So, I'll wait for the inevitable. We'll see how I feel then, if I feel the same way, I know I need to take a new kind of risk and share my feelings, and if I don't feel the same way, then there will be new hurdles to jump and when they come I'll be as prepared as I can be. Until then, I know that I can do nothing but feel in each moment. Embrace each feeling and find out how God is calling me to live more abundantly through each feeling. Trying to figure out how I can live a life for the One who gave His Life for the Life of the world.

"This is us trudging our way through experiences heading toward this urge inside of is looking for companionship"

Rebekah, that is a beautiful thought. In it I need to challenge myself that sometimes "companionship" doesn't mean with a man. It is companionship with Christ, with the church, with the world, that I desire. In my humanity, as a woman, yes, I do desire companionship with a man. But until that comes, if it comes, how is my desire for my companionship fulfilled through my relationship with Christ. How can I use my gifts and life to be in companionship with Creation? What is loneliness? A simple feeling? Is it good? I don't think that God calls any to be lonely. He might call some to be alone, and others to be in a partnership, but I think that of all the feelings, hurt, pain, love, loss, excitement... loneliness is the worst. So, I guess, if anything, this vulnerability allows me to feel, and to be aware of my loneliness, teaching me how to get out of that, and it teaches me of my deep need for Christ.

Allow yourself to be shaken by the wind, tossed by the waves, and broken and healed by relationships. I think only then can we truly understand (or even begin to understand) the boldness and beauty of Christ's own vulnerable nature and His sacrifice for us. Maybe then we can enter into companionship with Him and through that He will guide into more relationships that will likely involve risks and feelings, but they will also produce fruit and with that deep and wise love.

**this has been edited for readability. he came back from romania in love with a girl; and he and i don't really talk anymore. i miss my friend, but am still moving. rebekah's now enganged to a wonderful man, whom i love and respect, named ted.**

***since i wrote that last comment and typed this note, without publishing it, he has since gotten out of said relationship. we talk often. we're not together. i think i'm still waiting, for what, i do not know. it's been two and a half years since i sent this email to rebekah. rebekah's getting married in a month.***