recent stories

i went to a journaling workshop of sorts last week. this is always good for my soul.
i knew i needed to plan enough time to get dinner and get back downtown, but somehow i thought i had enough time to grocery shop with my sister, return books to the library and get dinner.....i was 20 minutes late to the workshop after speeding like a crazy woman to get there. this was NOT how i wanted to come to my intentional time for myself. but, alas, i calmed down and enjoyed myself. i am painfully aware how busy i am between work and school. It is not uncommon for me to leave the house around 6am and not return again 9 or 10pm. my commitment to myself for the next month is to be home one night a week. journal, study, laundry, read, dinner, whatever can happen, but some time at home needs to be happening for me. i haven't even been watering my plants well recently. sigh.
to even say it out loud scares me a little. cause trying to be home one night a week feels like its going to be hard. but i want to try. i need to try.
and, i'm home tonight. blanket, tea, cuddly dog on my lap, laundry is going and i got some studying done. got my plants watered too. sigh.
this is an excellent start! =)
i think i'll be home tomorrow night too....though a friend just had a baby, i think. and I'd like to go see the new fam!
if you are in the Denver area and are ever interested in a cool place to hang, or more info on the journaling stuff, check out Pomegranate Place!
that place is good for my soul.

i took lucky on a walk the other night. i haven't walked a dog in quite awhile and was almost immediately transported back to the pedro walking days. same route. holding a leash on a cold clear night. loving my brothers by loving their dogs. similar enough.
the stars are quite fabulous from my view close to standley lake. all i have to do is look up.

i'm settling in at school these days. giving up some of my hopes for the place and finding spots that are life giving. i'm not convinced that chapel is going to consistently be refreshing to my parched soul. but we recently read a book about trinitarian theology and reciprocating relationships. i have missed this so much from my old school. so much. though it felt like being exposed from behind a curtain, i miss professors that call students out on their shit. we reveal so much about ourselves in the questions or comments we make in class. my patience wears thin with some of my classmates. but i'm learning a lot. enjoying my research. trying to get something out of each book that i just don't have time to read completely. trying to focus on the good. trying to make friends.

i was just reading something about grief, and the book mentioned that when someone has lost someone important to them, they often still find that they continue to expect to see that person around. the lost person remains present, and their presence is expected. i have found this to be true recently of mhgs. i am in denver. i am at a new school. basically no one is the same. and yet, i keep double taking-is that so-and-so? or expecting that a mhgs friend will walk into the library and tell me a fun story, distract me from paper editing or start crying because sometimes being a counseling student is just hard. sigh. so far, none of my expected sightings have been real. hoped for. desired, but none of classmates from last year wander around on my new campus.

breath prayers. though i hated my prayer class last year, i developed my own sense of a breath prayer, which is sorta similar to the jesus prayer. i have learned more about breath prayers this year and have been practicing a new one recently. From him, thru him and to him. simple. a reminder for me that every moment of my days is from him, done thru him and going back to him. my studying is meant to be for him. my research is thru him. my job/work (though this definitely needs much adjustment) should be for him. breath it in, breath it out. from him, thru him and to him. i usually get the order all mixed up. but, it's been serving as way to keep me focused on the point.

J and I were talking yesterday about martyrs and missionaries. What is the craziness about missionaries that sends them to crazy places believing, perhaps honestly and perhaps foolishly that they will be safe? Baltimore can be just as dangerous as Guinea-Bissau. This conversation leads to a discussion on people willing to die for the cause that they believe in. Che was a recent one we have been talking about. passionate enough that it cost him his life. Martyrs too, believing enough that they are willing to lay down their life. it is a kind of craziness. i dealt with this when i left for GB. what if i died? and i was willing. some days I've thought that the dying is often much easier than the living. not quite really true. but sortof. last year a professor asked if everything we were doing was worth dying for? to consider life in those terms, because it could happen. i'm sure there was some other point too, but i considered what i was doing. i guess for me, if i am willing to die for something, i want that passion to translate into living for that same thing. to invest my time, my energy, my love. my sweat and tears. i'm finding that the things i have been willing to die for are changing, shifting, moving, rearranging. i don't know how it will all settle, but the winds of change are blowing.

i'm living in the middle of tension these days. last night, one point in the sermon was about growth, desire and frustration. the place we desire to be is at one high point, the place we see ourselves to be at is lower than perhaps we'd hoped. the space in the middle=tension and frustration. and rather than giving up because of the tension and frustration, hang in there. cause the growth can happen; it is happening. so, i'm in the middle of it all.