Christmas Lights

The Christmas lights twinkle in the background; behind all the noise they stay.

The air is filled with holiday aroma; but there is pain in its full array

Cinnamon, pine and turkey waft through the rooms behind the cold war.

The war that rages like a death sentence on those that were drafted in before.

Time has passed leaving all the memories;

Leaving a reality that is non-existent but very real within their hearts.

Candy canes and chocolate tingle their taste buds,

but time has stolen the sweetness in their broken hearts.

Yes their hearts are rather bruised and bleeding from within.

The cold war sent many unsaid words to their grave without a chance to live.

Many times the bombs should have pierced the sky with fury and with rage.

The silence in the cold of winter created an even deeper rift as it was laid.

Cookies, laughter, and family all warm words in a once warm time.

It was the chill of the cold held at bay by the walls that love had built.

And by the fire cold hands were warmed; bringing life back to the numb;

standing tall and full of pride the sturdy nations had lost their love.

Yet the cold war . . .

The cold war in their hearts raged on.

On and on it raged in silence and the numb.

Christmas lights, they twinkle. In the background they stay true.

the candy canes one by one went missing and chocolate candy bowls felt abused.

The warm fire died down and the silence dreadfully ensued.

Yet in the moment all hope felt lost, an infants cry pierced the air and life began anew. 

Me & You

Me & You
Here is the truth
I will confess it to you
Me & You we can be all that we can be together
And when the weather turns grey, we'll stick it out and stay

Me & You
here is the truth
I will sing it to you
that our dreams can come to fruit when we plant our seeds in truth
That all we ever imagined is for a time and a season

Me & You
Here is the melody
to a beautiful nursery rhyme
singing a simple tune but when we sing it together its melody weathers anything
Because we did it together and I hope it lasts forever

Me & You
Here is our reality
One that you have given me
Freely you have loved and in my heart I feel the tug
Inside I am free to dream of the endless possibilities and I see

Me & You
together we stand
Holding hands till the end
I believe in Happy endings once again
You helped me believe and though it won't be perfect it will be everything

You & Me
Me & You
Baby its a tune that I hum in the morning
Your the reason I am seeing life through a different light
this light that is so bright and I want to be brighter to share it with you

Me & You
Yes it is true
I want Me & You
Yes Baby its You

The Edge of the Northern Star

If my fingers could draw

I would play connect the dots on his skin

his freckles tease me by the day

and I am amazed at his beauty in every way

If his smile was poison

I would gladly drink it because with one look

I am warmed and all the feelings

Inside my heart begin to swarm

If his hands were Christmas

I would become the present wrapped inside him

warm and safe I would wait

to be unwrapped and loved in every way

If his eyes were drops of taffy

I would gladly taste of its sweetness

taking into my senses every sheen and shine it made 

breathing in its scent with gladness 

If in him I found that my ship would not sink

the edge of the earth I would not find

In his heart and mind all the endless possibilities would be a sign

that the north  star pointed toward what is right 

the moment I knew I would grasp the opportunity

I would lay hold to his soul and claim it as my own

two hearts bound in the same direction

beating to the rhythm of an off kilter drum

and the sun would rise with the knowledge

of what we had just realized

humming a tune of, "I already knew" 

and the birds singing to the morning dew

goodbye to a lonely morning 

and good morning to you 

Jealousy

Black muck . . . oh it spills. 

It is tainted and marred as it spews forth venom,

and the tears flow. they flow from within;

like a festering disease the black muck bubbles.

the scar, fresh and raw;

pink and feverish it stands atop clean skin.

Itching, it is scratched but the pain is real;

leaving marks that can't be removed.

A stain in the soul, dark and hidden.

A memory, a thing of the past but it clings.

I look at the images and see her face,

tears, more tears and i feel it again.

Black, black, black muck.

It moves, its washes over me and I want to rip the page!

Rip it in half to hide her face!

But nothing can replace time that has already taken place. 

Nothing can replace all the mistakes made.

In the black mud, in the murky water.

In all the feelings that i feel, i see something worth holding.

I see you and know that i have it all. Yet,

there was a thief in the night; creeping in the dark.

safety lost, light a dim glimmer

stolen. It was stolen. Something so precious

It's value, it's value untold.

The black muck resurfaces; moving, moving. 

A small child wanting, desiring what is off limits

Her face runs through my mind and,

the muck in all it darkness gets warm and gooey.

tears, tears.

there aren't enough to cover this

there aren't enough to reclaim this precious stone

it's luster, its beauty was priceless

I wish, I wish. 

Through the Window

I am waiting in the chapel.

I look at the stain glass windows;

reds, blues and greens.

I watch as the sunlight shines through.

Paul rests on his knees while looking up

the Cross lays between the frame;

Empty & complete.

I sit and watch the light shine through.

I am waiting for the sunset;

watching for the shift and angle.

I am waiting for his hands to find me.

Yes, I am watching the light shine through.

Must I say goodbye for the time?

Must I stay content with where I am?

Red's, red's and cloth in glass.

I sit and watch the sun shine through.

He found me in the chapel;

My hands folded in surrender.

The sun set beyond the window.

I sat in wait as the light shined through.

He grasped my hands and kissed my lips.

Warmth filled my heart; the perfect wait.

The glass dove was free to shine above;

as the sun slid down and left me full of love.

Written: October 23, 2012

His Galaxy

The music beat, its beat, beating in my ear.

I heard its rhythm as it moved within me.

My star so bright but hidden behind the veil and,

I rested on his shoulder as the beat thumped in me.

The music beat, its beat, inside my soul.

breathing in each breath with soft ecstasy.

My star is shy but it shines bright in the distance;

but, you look at the sky and see me in the galaxy.

The music beat, its Latin beat in a foreign tongue.

The rhythm had a pace that quickened with times love.

It rests in the same place we always go to gaze; 

As time passes, the consistent song we sing, has sung. 

Yes, this beat, that beats within me, feverishly.

As your radar on earth, picks up my rhythm.

your warm hand holds me and keeps me; because,

I realize that my star isn't as quiet as I once reasoned.

You feel my star in your soul that burns;

And in your eyes I see the galaxy turn, I see you. 

The Red Brick Courtyard

(By: Janet Leadbeater)

The courtyard was red;

the bricks, the tree in the middle, it's leaves

The walls all about me, the way, everything.

It was all red.

I stood in the middle;

holding a red leaf in my hand 

and watched the wind slip it from my grasp.

I watched it fly on the wind.

I mourned its passing;

and all together my hands felt empty.

I watched as the wind stirred up the leaves.

then I moved one foot in front of the other

I watched as the red blew beyond me

The striking color touched my senses. 

The wind blew up my brown curls,

and the red brick remained

Red leaves, Red brick, Red life

It all surrounded, but refused to touch me.

alone, alone in the courtyard

There I stood in awe of its beauty.

Warm Soup and Love

Her chubby hands held the pencil with strength and precision. She looked down on her piece of artwork with such concentration as would be a grown adult. The flower was long stemmed and stout in its petals that it seemed too tall for the bloom but it still looked beautiful.There is something so innocent in the drawings of a child. the clouds, the sun, the uneven grass all portray an ideal world through the eyes of innocence. The butterfly with its unrealistically round wings flew in the air of the parchment and made me smile. She created a beautiful and childlike world that gave me peace and I stared in wonder as she created it before me

Once she was done she folded the sheet of paper in half and handed it to me, "It's for you!" she said. She was so proud. I gleamed with excitement, "Really?! It's beautiful! thank you Winni." Her chubby cheeks produced two little dimples as her bright eyes smiled up at me. She turned to her sister and said something in Mandarin. Her sister came and they began to play games with the crayons. This is a small world in which I can find peace and solace from the world. In this place I felt safe from all the hurts the world created. It is in the innocence of her drawings, the laughing and foreign language in the background and the delicious food to fill my stomach that I feel a surrogate sense of a family. Sometimes it is in the small warm touch of a child's fingers clinging to my own that give me peace. It's the love behind the act. It is the intent of the heart. I love the warmth of this families heart.

My day was pretty bad. I went to my favorite restaurant to escape and I was graced with the presence of a Chinese family that I visit entirely TO much! But they don't mind :) The kids sat around me coloring, laughing and cutting bats out preparing for Halloween as I ate dinner. Their mom came to the table with their snack which was a red bean soup that tasted sweet with a fungus in it called tremella fuciformis that lent the sweet flavor. She asked me if I wanted some and of course I said yes! It definitely is not a dish that would be on the menu. haha! She brought it to me and it was 2 things.

1. It was delicious!
2. It was definitely different

I knew in that moment as I sat with the children as their parents worked back in the kitchen and we ate the soup that I was home. It doesn't make sense, and I suppose it isn't meant to be. However, as I sat there reflecting on my life and the incidents there of I knew that God had sent me a gift. He sent me a family that I could cuddle up next to and laugh with, play games with and eat a foreign food with. I was comforted and after a long hard day, I felt warmer and willing to leave the restaurant to face life again head on.

The Fall

Have you ever just watched the world of grass in the fall? It is a wonderful and rather exquisite thing to behold. Warmth soaks into the damp earth, the green contrast teases the scarf of orange leaves that daintily cover the green. Green and Orange winged insects playfully dance from blade to blade. They, camouflaged seem unreal and hidden until like a ghost, glide to one spot from another. How beautiful it is to see

The leaves whisper from the canopy, preparing and sharing secrets of their age old traditions. The time would soon come where silence would fill the nakedness of winter and their whispers would cease. But for now they were content to shed themselves of the past year and transition into sleep, the deepest of sleeps. How comforting it must be to be wrapped in layers of life that only man can cut down. What a comfort indeed.

But for now the grass is alive and well. Living on the bed of life it lets life itself flourish. The squirrel nervously twitches as its instincts give it the clear to run across the green. It's poofy tail sways with life flirtatiously as it hops towards its goal. Brown and boisterous, its curiosity leads it. Yes, the green is alive indeed.

But it is fall and like all falls it must come to an end. The dark sets in and the chill of winter presses against your skin. The only hope that gives you strength to endure is the promise of spring. And so, I pull my scarf closer around my shoulders. I sway from one foot to the other. My reverie comes to an end when I remember that we met in the fall and we loved through the winter but in the spring comes the final and most beautiful ending. With a warm heart I realized that it was the fall I never expected. Gathering myself I smile, take in a deep and cool breath and head inside to the hustle and bustle of life.

Clipped Wings

The garden was an oasis

She sat in silence like a statue

breathing in the essence

like perfume to the senses

the bird bath full of life

water flying all around

birds wings flapping 

It was exquisite in its sounds

She sat in the grass

green, lush and cool

droplets from the bird bath

like aloe soothed her soul

but one bird on the grass

hopping up and down

wings spread open

could not fly around

She watched confused

while pity gripped her heart

she arose and gently picked up the bird

and there she saw the absurd

clipped wings

the bird could not fly

as good as dead

this bird was sentenced to die

his voice rang through the garden

like a thunder storm it shook her reverie

gripping the bird protectively
she turned and instantly perceived

clipped wings

what a painful place to be

wishing to fly

but only touching the cement

never to be free

His Bluff

His red playing cards in hand

My own in position

they stood in stark contrast

the many options i thought I had

His shades hid his brown eyes

I didn't care to conceal mine

it was a one sided mirror

his eyes, mine ready to fight

we sat in silence 

me in tense anticipation

the moment would come

when we would both know 

unspoken words but emotions high

I let it all slide

I was confident with chance

the red cards they never lie

defiant till the end 

I wanted to call his bluff

i took a deep breath

his voice filled the air

he called it

my nerves stretched taut 

I felt unprepared and bare

I wanted the control

i tapped my fingers against the cold cards

staring at his hidden eyes i glared

nervous and warm i laid them down

and silence filled the quiet room

he didn't twitch 

he laid his cards down

the cold wooden table 

what a long fall 

and there they were

his losing cards

I felt triumphant

but I knew inside that he let me win

The Beautiful

It was warm on the bank of the river as the grain of the sand itched between my toes
but it was worth the feeling as I heard the soft tide come in and then move back out on the mini shore
The sun was a faithful companion as it loyally rested above me in the cobalt blue sky
my mind traveled in and out of memories from the past
into the present and back into the past I would sway back and forth
like the soft breeze that carried tendrils of my hair onto my shoulder and then off into the air
my mind danced and danced
I wished I could quiet the thoughts in my mind but they continued
violence, darkness, blackness and then light and softness danced back and forth in my soul
my stomach twisted and in turn loosened with each polar memory that washed over me
but I sat there under the sun with my toes lightly dipped in the banks of the riverfront
I sat there in quiet lands as the winds within raged
memories so many memories
I felt so many regrets and wishing it could all be erased took over my delicate heart
I could feel the warm trickle of a tear anoint my cheek in surrender
ashamed, dark, and black my soul felt as I sat in subjection to the beauty around
I breathed in the heavy scent of the woods behind me
This is a peaceful place where pine and dirt mixed with rain to create a salve of comfort
for my black heart
A deep staggering breath filled my lungs as another memory assaulted my mind
and another tear.
would it ever end? would this torment always be?
My body ached from the battle and in surrender I prayed to the God above the blue sky begging to die
but the shore still sang its rhythmic tune and the warm sun stayed true
It was the beautiful that brought me back to this place
It was the pureness of it all, like a shawl it covered my head with comfort and peace
another memory
I like a small child on her knees begged to see clearly
repentant and desperate I opened my black heart
and then the peaceful shore quieted its tune and I felt a warmth like words on the soul
like a hand on my shoulder I could feel His hand resting on me
and I knew, I truly knew the purest beauty was with me
My dark soul lightened through the bright light that ministered to me
and the tears sprang forth as the tide washed over my vulnerable feet
like ointment it washed me clean
His beauty washed through me and for the first time in a long time my mind stopped dancing
and I could rest in peace

"What can we say about all this? If God is on our side, can anyone be against us? God did not keep back his own Son, but he gave him for us. If God did this, won't he freely give us everything else? 

-Romans 8:31-32

(Photo by Keith Levit)

A House and A Home

The sunlight was warm and chilled on the wind this day that I stared out the window of the ghetto red car I rode in. I felt the cool airy breeze through my fingers as I lazily kept my hand out the window. I had my head resting against the head rest of the chair as I looked up into the blue sky that so deeply contrasted the deep green canopy of the neighborhood trees. It's a beautiful and precious thing to behold these car moments. I thought back on the house that I had just come from and a sadness swelled deep within my heart.

It's the simple pleasures in life that send a yearning within me. For me its the scent of the cut grass on the lawn, the smell of a well used garage with tools hanging on the walls. It is the lovely and well visited kitchen with its pots and pans that have to be at least ten years old. It's the couch in the basement, that is otherwise known as the family room. It's these rare gifts that for many is taken for granted that cause me the deepest of sadness and leave me wanting.

The laughter of a family is a precious gift, and those that have that precious gift don't realize how beautiful it really is. This car ride down the neighborhood road, with all its houses and homes. It with it's mail man, joggers, and trampolines is a place that holds warmth and security. It's a fond memory of what once was, before it all came crashing down. I lost a house and a home on that day. It was a home that may not have been the warmest, it may not have been the most functional, or even the grandest of places, but it was where the reality of my parents and siblings existed. It was before the separation, and before the ripping of those sacred threads. If it is anything, it is now just a fond memory.

Even if it wasn't the warmest of homes, when there is no home at all it is just as heartbreaking. My mother says a home is where the family is. I agree with her, but there is something so warm about walking onto the porch of a house you grew up in. There is something so lovely about sharing dinner on holidays not with half the family but as a whole unit. . . It is the way it should be. Do I have these car moments often? Do I cry every time I see a neighborhood? No, but its the unexpected moments, when I am just living life that I find myself mourning for something that can never be again. It seems like a cruel injustice, but an injustice that must continually be dealt with each breath that I breath.

The little girl on her bike is riding on her driveway, the man is jogging with his wife on the sidewalk as we pass, the elderly lady is watering her roses. Then there is me. There is me, an impostor that is riding in this neighborhood. I came to visit a friend. Exiting from this world that is no longer my own. Into another world where apartments, unpaid bills, sadness and torn families wait. Where words lose their luster and life seems dimmer. It's dramatic and over emphasized in my heart I realize but it doesn't change the fact that it is there.

The street has come to an end and the moment has passed. We turn right onto the main road and are back on Linderburgh with it's busy traffic and stop lights lining the long stretch. I pull my hand in from outside and feel the warm temperature on my chilled hand. It feels like such a strong contrast. I grab my shades from my purse and put them on and turn from the window. This is the reality that I live, the memories I will just have to bury them again.

The Ugly

I can see the ugly within
I have unveiled my own denial
This denial that painted my heart a refreshing facade
but as time passed the paint began to chip away and I saw hints of what truly laid beneath
My own denial deceived my insecure mind into believing my beauty could have no flaw
What a lie.
But the black beneath began to move like a wave eager to come forth
It began to ooze under the surface
It like a fungus began to decay the structure of my home
The place I felt safest
But never trusted
My heart began to reveal what I had so desperately tried to hide
The ugly within had awakened
The blackness of my soul was heartbreakingly sharp in its darkness
The contrast intensely shown through like a bride who was caught in the rain
The pure white of the paint had like a dandruff on the skin turned flaky and foul as it slowly began to peal away from the surface
This dark reality was to much to bear
I was fearful for the moment I met a person more good than me
He would see into the gates of my soul and identify the fraud within
A fake that pawns herself off as rare and expensive gold
but in my purest form I have been bent and dented
I have been folded down and weathered by the elements of life
I am the darkest and blackest of silt
I rest at the bottom of the deepest most chaotic river bed
though soft and smooth to the touch
no life can be birthed from my earth
I am barren and alone and have contented myself with frivolity
The deepest of my ugliness is the lifelessness of my niche
This place that can no longer bring forth life
Like the dead weight of limbs that no longer function
this I carry as my shame
this soul is irredeemable
I am remarkably human and lacking in unique nature
This soul that is suffocating by its true nature grasps for some air
Where is beauty?
Where can I find love?
I know not a place
and just as I feared the moment came in which my crimes have been revealed
my evil mind and desires betray me
The silt of my soil is rich with forbidden acts
It spewed forth itself from the deep crevices of its hiding place
I lay awake and naked to the one person I feared the most
I lay there with the black muck all about me
I can't cover it!
Judgement is sure to come
He stands there in all his pure glory
like the sun he is captivating and bright
I close my eyes and cringe away from the light that pierced my heart
the pain is so great, I am sure to melt away
and in that instant I feel warm
Is this where I find grace?
beauty in the moment I lay most vulnerable?
Could there truly be such a thing?
He found me... Can I be saved?
Truth, Reason, Goodness . . . These things could not save me
But love. His love.
Is that the greatest beauty of all?

"For the life of a creature is in the blood, and I have given it to you to make atonement for yourselves on the altar; it is the blood that makes atonement for one’s life." -Leviticus 17:11

He is my delight

I remember a day that I had gotten off work early, and on this particular day I was extremely excited about going home and making cookies. This type of cookie is a personal favorite and delight of mine. I always enjoy making these cookies because of the texture, taste and unique nature of them. They are called chocolate delights, for they surely are a delight to make and eat! :) The ingredients include dark chocolate with nuts topped with chocolate and white chocolate dripped stripes on top. Oh it truly is a beautiful experience all around! Needless to say, i hurried to the grocery store to buy the ingredients; however, payday was a week away and I was low on cash. I knew that with baking you cannot buy cheap ingredients, but because of the lack of funds, I bought cheap ingredients regardless. I did not think long term of the consequences, and without reservation I headed home with the goods to begin what I thought would be a successful baking experience. I was so happy and peaceful. My soul was singing as the dough came out with its dark brown sheen. But then I paused, looked down on the dough and noticed a different sheen than I was used to. I mixed it around some more but still felt that the sheen and texture was off. However, I just shrugged it off, thinking that I had mixed it to much. I joyfully rolled out the lovely balls onto the cookie sheet and gently pressed them down a tad. As I put them in the oven I expected a matured cookie genius to emerge from its time in the oven. Time passed, and I waited patiently. As eleven minutes came to quickly I opened the oven door and to my horror I saw cookies that were dull, that had not risen and dead in personality! I was heartbroken! The beauty I had expected was stolen by the presence of mutated monsters!

I pulled them out and in sadness stared down onto the cookie sheet with a puzzled look on my face. I went over the directions a couple times. Step by step, I wondered where I had gone wrong, but I had followed the recipe to the T. I was mystified, and then it came to me like a gentle breeze on my mind. Did you invest and give your time to the highest quality ingredients or did you trust in the mediocre to create a masterpiece? I knew in that instant that it wasn't my abilities that had created these cookie zombies but rather the mediocre ingredients I had invested in to make them. regardless it was I who was at fault. I stood back from the oven, threw the cookies away in complete disappointment and wondered how I could correct this horrible circumstance. For I yearned to eat these cookies that I had waited all week to have, and I would not be disappointed! I knew that I would have to spend double to get the cookies I wanted, but I didn't care. I wanted these delicious delights and I would do anything to get them. And so I went back to the grocery story, bought the best ingredients possible and tried the recipe over again. 

It is the same with your spiritual walk with God. You are wondering why your life after so much time is turning into a cookie disaster. But the question I must ask is, are you investing in the best quality things in your life to make it a personal success? Or are you only investing in the mediocre, thinking that the end result will be amazing! Lately, God has been asking me to trust Him (again...) and when He asks me to do this I know He is referring to my future. Are you trusting God? Are you on the spiritual offense rather than constantly fighting on the defense? Do you have a consistent prayer life? Do you seek God, in every aspect of your personal life? When you plan the future do you put God into the whole equation, rather than just a side effect or byproduct of your plans and dreams? When you don't do these things, then you are only buying the off-brands of life expecting a master piece. The truth is that you will only look like every other grocery store bought chocolate chip cookie in Walmart. Your life will be flavorless and lack unique zest and personality. But if you invest all that you have in Christ, he will be your delight, you will be the most beautiful creation that the world has seen! Your truest and greatest investment would be when your life is in God's hands. It can be no safer, no more beautiful, no more potentially capable of greatness than when it is in His hands!  

I got back from the grocery store, after buying the new ingredients and began the journey once more. Instantly as I mixed the new ingredients with just as much love and care as before I noticed an immediate difference. The sheen of the dough was shinier, the gloss was beautiful, it was dark, and the aroma of the dough was deeper and richer. I felt like the cookies would be amazing this time! But the truth is that this time I invested in the best of the best, but I would not know its success until eleven minutes later when it came out of the oven. Many times we don't know what will happen, we don't understand why certain things do happen and we are anxious to try to understand what we can do. That is how I feel this senior year. My future seems so unclear and I feel so completely up in the air. But don't let that anxiety push you further from Christ but rather draw you closer to Him. 

I rolled out the balls of dough and yet again lovingly laid them on the cookie sheet. I was happy and nervous. I could feel the ultimate disappointment touch my soul again if these did not come out as they were meant to. I imagine, that is how God feels when He puts so much into us. The best quality ingredients, all His love and care, and best dreams and intentions He has for us and we decide to turn from Him anyway. That is how I felt about these cookies. I placed them in the oven trusting that because I had invested the best in them they would come out beautiful! I waited as eleven minutes slowly passed by. The seconds seemed like an eternity. But as the clock clinked and the alarm went off I rushed to the oven opened it with anticipation and saw the most beautiful and unique cookies I had ever seen! I was overjoyed! 

I learned the hard lesson that day. What you invest in is what you get. It is a concept that is rather simple, yet not easily understood by many. You want to be amazing in life then invest in the very best. Let me give you a hint, the very best just so happens to be Christ! ;) Your hard work will pay off, I PROMISE! Just because its not in your timing doesn't mean that the process of the change isn't happening. Just keep working to the best of your ability and it will all work out! 

Memories and an Egg Roll

I walked back into my comfort restaurant after months of being absent. It felt like walking back into the warmth of  a family and yet they only know me as a customer. However, their presence always gave me peace. The red sign of the restaurant remains the same, the building stands unchanged. But once I walked into the front door, change had surely touched this place. the tables were moved and the children of the owners had clearly grown. I sat with tears in my eyes as I watched the infant giddily walking all about the restaurant. The last time I saw her, she was in a bouncy chair. Her cute cheeks were as pink and chunky as ever. these little Chinese children were surely the most beautiful kids I had ever seen. the oldest daughter had surely grown two to three inches over the summer. Her back bent down lower as she gently held the infant up as they walked in circles about the room.

The parents as usual stood behind the counter. The father was the cook tonight, and busily readied the ingredients for my sesame chicken and rice, while the mother (after taking my money) continued to stack bags on the counter and clean up the front area. She yelled over her shoulder, "A side Egg Roll!" They were the type of family that continued to move and busy themselves no matter what time of the day it was. I believe that is the reason, I continue to eat at this restaurant. I am continually impressed by the fact that this young family came to a country across the sea to open a restaurant and raise their kids in a different culture than the one that they know. The strength and courage it takes to do something like that has to be so great! I am impressed greatly by their gumption and I see it everyday by the look in their eyes, their hard work behind the counter and the set of their jaws as they continue on, even when they are tired.

My thought process then evolves into what it would be like for me when I move out of the country to make a life for my own. Will my children appreciate my gumption just as much as I appreciate these restaurant owners? this thought sweeps across my mind as I listen to their lovely foreign language echo in the kitchen area, as their children giggle and run in circles. It is such a warm and foreign environment and I swallow every moment greedily, because I know that once my food is ready it will be time to go home.

My food is ready. She asks me if I would like soy sauce and duck sauce for the egg roll. I say yes, and ask for chopsticks. She sticks them in my paper bag with the food, nods her head slightly and says goodnight. I sadly turn with happiness in my heart as I exit. I know that the semester is starting and many visits to this rare treasure are to come in the future. May God continue to bless me with little blessings and precious moments like this for the rest of my life. They truly teach me the value of love and family, and I never want to forget.

The Wedding

It was windy outside, and the trees blew gently back and forth. Like the sway that two dancers make to a ballad, the leaves danced to the same steps. As the sun set at twilight, my red dress began to cool. The pavilion rested between the two walls of trees. There were benches with birds nest resting above in the trees and bird baths below delicately positioned in the lush green lawn. The carefully positioned white Christmas lights lined the pavilion vaulting in a lovely and poised manner. It lent the over all effect and mood for a beautiful and quaint wedding.

The bride and groom had just spoken their vows. They tearfully and joyfully traded rings while lovingly gazing into each others eyes. As the maid of honor and best friend of the bride I was exceptionally moved by the experience. As tears fell from her smiling eyes, tears also fell from mine.

While holding hands, they headed toward the unity candles on the table. As they lit the candle the deep tenor of the pastors voice filled the humid air. He conveyed that the first act that they wanted to do as a married couple was take communion. Pastor prayed over the couple and thanked the Lord for such a beautiful union and for His blessings. As the bride and groom placed the bread on their tongues a bird flew from his resting place above the rafters, and like the Holy Spirit spread its wings and disappeared into the setting sky. We all watched in wonder as the bride and groom drank of the cup. They then headed back to the cross at the front of the pavilion to face the pastor. We all knew that that moment was blessed by the wings of that bird.

The sun began to set behind the curve of the earth. It painted a pink hue in the bluish sky. They were pronounced husband and wife, and as their lips met, peoples hands joined together in a chorus of excitement and triumph. Many faces were lightened with joy. For weddings truly are a happy and joyous occasion. It was in that loud moment that time began to tick to a different beat. It was a new beginning for two lives joined on a new path in life. The seconds began to tick away, with clapping and celebrations in the background. They began a new life in that moment, not as single entities but as a duo facing this race called life. They now faced it together.

She is my little Baby Birdy

(Photographer: Tara Moore)

Her little dainty foot rested on my knee as she proudly proclaimed that she indeed had learned to tie her little pink converse. I watched with mixed emotions as she took the strings from me and proceeded to do them herself. At first I had every intention of doing them myself, because I did not know she knew how. But once the strings were out of my hands, I released control and allowed her to show me. I wanted to guide her and I watched as my hands on multiple occasions moved forward towards the strings to correct something. It felt and looked like an involuntary twitch or spasm as they would randomly move forward and then back against my chest in purposeful restraint against my own person. I watched in wonder as she showed me her expertise in the matter at hand. Her fingers moved slow with each measure but as she made the loop and tied them in a knot i was amazed and moved by her growth.  After she was done, she lifted herself and threw her hands in the air proclaiming, "See! I told you I learned how! Now I don't need mommy or daddy to help me do it!" Oh what wonderful words fell from her lips as my heart listened and heard.

I can't explain the pride I felt as she leaned down over my knee and showed me she was a big girl. There was this undeniable glow about her. Knowledge, it is the food of growth and maturity. I watched her over night become bigger in person and it was beautiful. She isn't even my daughter, for I am sure that I would have cried like a baby had it been. But I also noticed and learned a valuable lesson from that moment. I wanted to help her, I wanted to show her my way, I wanted to guide her. I wanted to do all those things for such a thing that was no longer necessary. Sometimes you have to learn to let those you love spread their wings and grow. We are more than happy for them to learn but when it comes time to take your hand off the seat of the bicycle, it is in that moment that you learn of what quality you are made of. I learned in that moment how hard it will be for me to let my daughter tie her own shoes. Teaching her would bring me much joy but ultimately allowing her the honor of tying her own shoes had been the final test of my own control.

The truth is that the control we contain stems from a beautiful and endless fountain of love. furthermore, the control we continue to exude upon our children is furthered by our need for them to be safe. That is what I felt in that moment. A need for her to be safe and right. I want to be an amazing mother. I want my daughter to respect me and to love me with her whole heart. But I also want her to know that I very much desire her to grow into what she is meant to be. Even if it means that she is ready to tie her shoes all by herself without my help, then I would try to do it. Even if that moment came before I thought I was ready to let her. Sometimes, the hardest part is knowing they are ready to fly but we aren't ready to let them step off the branch. Its the deep dip, and the immense distance and height that makes us wish that they were dependant on us always. But a deeper pride comes when you realize that they fly so expertly and so beautiful AND OF COURSE even more beautiful than all the other children. :)
 

Kristen Stewart and Rupert Sanders Love affair

Well I wouldn't normally write anything of this nature. But for one reason, I have the itch to write and two this topic hit yahoo's news page. lol Now I would just like to clarify that I am not gonna cry, feel betrayed or possibly end up getting mad over this (like many fans.) I am sad but who would.'t (Under conditions) :)

Kristen Stewart  . . . .
I am one of the Twifans even before they were movies, way back in the day when I was in high school (long time ago). What amazes me about fictional characters is once you invest your emotions in them, they can seem just as real as anyone else. I think for many people because celebrities are people that live far from their world, they are in a sense on the same level of existence in their mind as a fictional character. Their emotions are invested in people that they have only seen from a distance or through the pages of books, or tv screens.

For the Twilight saga phenomenon, this would be very much true. Because not only have the books created a world of passionate love and triangle relationships for fantastical characters, it also created a movie that visually stimulated what was already provided for them through the books. this is a double wammy for fans because they associate real life people with the passionate life and relationship of fictional characters. As a result, fans would naturally desire for the "fictional" characters to end up together and live happily ever after who just happen to be real people named Kristen and Robert. I can't imagine the heavy burden and natural pull that Stewart and Pattinson must have felt for each other at first by their fans.

Clearly, if a person is cheating something is either missing or not being met in the relationship that they are in. If the relationship was healthy and all needs (at both ends) were being met, then a person would not feel the need to cheat. Of course there are always extenuating circumstances to that assumption. But my premise can easily be upheld.

I don't know their relationship, I only know their characters. The limited access that they have allowed the public to see of their relationship is enough for an individual to assume that it is private. I realize that there are certain fans that are easily effected by this, because of their attachment. For instance a Youtube person otherwise known as NuttyMadam made a video of her heartbreak concerning this news of Kristen's infidelity. My response to her heartbreak is, it isn't her relationship. She says to leave them alone but then post her heartbreak and gives an accusatory title to her video? seems like a double standard to me.


Yes, leave them alone. People make mistakes and the only person that can truly fix this problem would be Kristen. Love truly is a delicate thing that must constantly be fostered. I will make no assumptions of the relationship of Kristen and Robert. It's ultimately up to them to decide what must happen now.

I give extreme kudos to Kristen for not only admitting her mistake but also admitting that her love for Pattinson is in existance and still very real to her. "I'm deeply sorry for the hurt and embarrassment I've caused to those close to me and everyone this has affected. This momentary indiscretion has jeopardized the most important thing in my life, the person I love and respect the most, Rob. I love him, I love him, I'm so sorry," -Kristen Stewart (people.com-quote)
What humbling and brave thing for her to admit and say. Good Luck Lovey's.

Almost Thirty. . .

Her name is San Dara from the girl group called 2NE1. I absolutely adore her. She is about to turn thirty and she is still unmarried. For certain companies in South Korea, bands have dating bans. During those times, the members are not allowed to get romantically involved with anyone. For Dara that ban was lifted in May. Hopefully she will find someone handsome and kind, and worth her time. :)

But I know, here in the United States, dating can be a difficult thing when you are a full time student and working. I am single and in my senior year in college, and I have a job and heavily involved in my church. My goal is to be fluent in korean before I go to South Korea to teach English as a second language. To be honest, I get so busy with the life that I have created for myself that I forget to date. The older I get, I get more comfortable with being single, and though I get lonely, the energy it takes to get romantically involved seems like so much!

You have to learn to care and love that person :) listen to him, spend time with him, cook for him, and all these other things, and I know it would take away from my job, or my church, or my school.... I'm not saying I don't want to get married or I don't want to be in a relationship, but when I look at it from that perspective it seems like a HUGE responsibility. I am SO proud of San Dara for making a great career for herself and putting a legacy in her life, so that now she can relax, look back on her successful life and now create a family. I want the same thing for me!

I want a degree, and a career! I want to say that I did something with my life and that I was successful! I want to go to South Korea, fluently speaking the language and making a beautiful career that I did the best of my ability. I want to look back on my life and see a life that was fully lived, not a life that was wasted. I don't want to regret the moments of my past, but see a clear life that I can be fond of. After I have done that, I would be proud to settle down, give the man of my dreams my long awaited heart and have children. It would be in that time, I would be proud to call myself a mother, because I know that when they are grown, they would be proud to calls themselves my children.

I am only turning 24 in about twenty days. Six years away from thirty. So right now I don't have anything to worry about. I think the only reason I feel pressure to be married so often is because my twin Anja is married and on her third child. Seeing it from that perspective, I can see why people want me to be "happy." They want me to be happy like my twin has found happiness, but what people don't realize is that where I am at right now is where I am happy the most. When they realize that, I don't think I will feel as much pressure to be married and have a din of kids yet. 

The link below is a clip from a popular South Korean show called, "Strong Heart" and it was a YG special for two episodes. Episode 123 and 124 where the original MC had his last night. It is a beautiful episode and certainly full of laughs but this is a breakout song and dance that San Dara wrote to the world! Both funny and Cute!!!! <3 Please Enjoy!


I have never Actually voiced these thoughts so clearly before but I hope that these thoughts can be appreciated for what they are :)

Those Silly Early Risers

My ENTIRE immediate family are night people. The average hours my family stays up during the night is 1:30 to 3:30 in the morning and that is during the work week. Let's not even recap on weekends. However, I have always found it easier (once i am up for the day) to be in a better mood in the morning, sociable, cook and clean than the rest of my family. I always thought it strange, but never considered myself a morning person because I am not fully "awake" until noon if I don't have my coffee. Because it is not normal for my family to be up before 9 in the morning, my body has found it more convenient to sleep when the rest of my family gets up. My twin could sleep until two sometimes, when we were growing up. Anja was a COMPLETE night person, sometimes not even sleeping a wink during the night. Now as a mother, her children have gotten her genes... well she is regretting it now. :)

With the new hours pressed upon me at work, I have discovered that my body since childhood has been conditioned to survive as a night person. When truly and naturally I am a morning person and just never knew. Lately my alarm goes off at 7:00 am and during my two hour break from work around 10 am, I go home and clean and cook. I just have all this energy reserved for those hours. Energy I NEVER knew existed before. This just goes to show that me and Anja truly are mirror twins. She the night and complete opposite from me who is the day! In every way this has always been true! it is really interesting the more I study me and Anja's twinnie relationship.

"Lazy hands make a man poor,
but diligent hands bring wealth. He who gathers crops in summer is a wise son,
but he who sleeps during harvest is a disgraceful son." 

-Proverbs 10: 4-5

The Lord knew what he was doing when he created the morning. What I find most beautiful is that I get most things done in the morning but my family and twin gets most of their things done at night. Even as a Mom, my twin still does her cleaning at night. She gets most of her energy when her body is used to giving it. The problem is that I never had energy because my body was never awake to get it. I wasn't a "sluggard" but I can't imagine how much more I would have gotten done if I had discovered this awesome thing earlier in my life. 

As a result, I am convinced that I the early bird can one day get the worm. This is just as true for Anja who can one day catch the fish from the top of the moon. I recommend that each person figure out for themselves what kind of person they are. Are you a morning person, or a night person, and designate necessities for the day according to what type you are. Now that I know that I am a morning person, i need to retrain my body to go to bed early and rise earlier in the day. It will be hard because this is a lifetime of training that I am going up against but for some of you, it may be easier :) give it a try! 

Here are some funny pics I got off Google search and thought you may enjoy! :) 

Enjoy your day!

In the Land of Cowboys

I looked down to my phone screen, and with slight dismay sat and pondered the question on my screen. should I accept or decline roaming? with quiet inner compliance I declined and turned my phone onto airplane mode.  There was absolutely no reception up in the middle of nowhere (called Peyton Colorado). For the past ten minutes I had been driving on dirt road that painted my van (named Lou) a ghetto sheen of tan dust. We had finally arrived on the property, snuggled comfortably next to a gigantic plateau. The Coniferous trees wonderfully camouflaged the little red house with a long wooden porch. and the air was clean and crisp as my lungs greedily took each breath in. This place truly was a oasis away from the city. . . If you considered Colorado Springs a city. :) Up against the immense silence in Peyton Colorado, Colorado Springs' noise would seem like an intrusion upon the senses.

I took in the beauty of nature in its organic form! the uninterrupted beauty away from civilization. Though people have made this place their home for many years, it was nature itself that hold the reigns in this terrain. I could feel it in the dirt that went between the toes of my sandaled feet, I could smell it in the odorous smell of pine and weed.The air was fresh and clear from the lack of pollution or manufactured life. The trees were wild and free, not just two to the front yard and three to the back. The wild grass grew, and had no limit on how tall it wished to be. the weeds had no fear of being plucked from the ground by their roots and dying while vulnerable to the red hot sun. The mountain lions came and went as they pleased. Life all together was wild in its purest form and unabandonly free!

I knew I was no longer in the city when the cars on the dirt road slowed to a crawl because a baby calf got free from the fencing and was now running parallel with the traffic. I knew I was in the middle of nowhere when all the land was vast and housing was spotted in the distance as minute specks on the horizon. I knew I was in the middle of nowhere when I had no service on my cell phone, and all hope for outside contact felt lost. This was a land of cowboys not of business men. A land of wranglers and hats rather than suits and berets. This was a land that had an appeal for the introvert, and i was just introverted enough to be seduced.

We went into the red house to make dinner with plans to work in the green house in a couple hours. As Linda grilled the marinated steaks, I sat on the couch reading magazines her friend had told her would help with the mourning process. It felt as though Scott was still there. His clothes still hung in the closet, the wood piles still beckoned him to come split them for the winter, His truck still held his cologne, and his presence still lingered in the walls of the home and greenhouse he built with his own hands. Linda alone in the middle of nowhere, mourned for the life of her husband who passed but two weeks ago. I caught myself just standing and silently loving her as the tears randomly came. Many times its not even words they wish to have but someone there to know they aren't alone.

As life continued to turn, and time didn't even slow with his passing, I learned that death is not mourned by life. Time does not flinch for the past, it just continues to turn. Because nature itself has needs that cannot be ignored. The seasons have demands and the worlds cycle has its rounds to make around the sun. It cannot slow down for heartache. It is only those that have lost their loved one that feel the ever aching pain of loss and it is in those moments that you wish time would stop and let you have a breath, a rest, or an eternity to sleep. It felt so unfair to mourn life without the comfort of life itself.

But the mountains remain still and the trees continue to tower, the clouds still pour out the rain and the sun still shines. It was a comfort that weekend as Linda stood by the back door looking out to the ranch land while the sun set. With the orange glow as the clouds sat clustered.The imminent blue of the night sky slowly crept across the horizon to convert to night. We talked of heaven and the hope for tomorrow. Though Scott is gone, her tears were not in vain because tomorrow brings another day of passing and one second closer to an eternity above.

Rain & Ash

 (Photo by: Cassidy Dejong)

The smoke is thick as it fills the lungs

my vulnerable lungs ache from the discomfort
my eyes sting and my head throbs like a beat of the drum

yet I continue to walk down the street

Ash falls from the sky, flying through the air

light as feathers they dance white with anger

they land where they please coming from the place where they were burned

the sky is orange and red with anger

as the smoke blots out the sun mutating it into a bloody red omen

and the rain is barred from pouring down

it was a time of chaos and confusion

it was a time of pain and loss

land and homes burned and lay desolate in the flames wake

the Waldo Canyon Wildfire proved itself to be a force to be reckoned with

the mountain side often called majestic was engulfed by red hot towering flames

they moved down its tips into the valleys taking everything in its path hostage

a thousand firemen working day and night face the fire bravely

helocoptars soar through the air and smoke pouring water over the beast

yet it continues to feast

this wildfire on June 26, 2012 was hungry and as it entered the city limits it struck fear into the hearts of coloradians

yet as the fire continues to move and swallow our beautiful forested land

you see people gathering to feed the homeless

shelter and shower the evacuees

there is strength within our ranks

and as pride soars for the firemen

love and pride soars for the people of Colorado Springs who have given much to bless others

we are indeed in a time of mourning for our land, our people and our homes

but as big drops of rain hit the ground with a thud, renewed hope filled our souls

and we sing a new song

that though we have lost much we will recover, we will rebuild and we will be stronger!
 

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Switchblades and Water guns

Picture by: Robert Yager

Back in the day . . . about seven years ago. I used to fight. I know, I know. NOT little miss Ashley! but yes, I had a serious problem with anger, and my fists in the barrio. Well there were worse barrios than the South side of San Antonio, but that was our barrio. The rage would just take over me, the adrenaline would course through my veins like a boiling heat under my skin, my hands would shake and then I would black out. I would wake up with a girl on the ground. It scared me. However, all we knew was to use our fists. Its a cycle of poverty intermingled with extremely dysfunctional communication, and as a result you wind up repeating the cycle over and over. Unless you are willing to change and work hard enough to make a change happen. When I came to Christ and found a relationship with him, things changed. Now i just get angry, and then get over it :) But let me tell you, finding Christ didn't solve my problems, it took painful years preceding salvation to fix the dysfunctional kinks in my life.


When someone purposely does something to belittle me (like today), my first reaction is shock. I go through a couple seconds of, "I cannot believe he did that!" and then after the shock has subsided, the anger within starts to boil over. I can't imagine what I look like from the outside, but from within, lets just say it gets black and red! I can feel the steam start to rise above my soul as I try to keep composed. and then after the waves of different emotions pass through me, I smile a sweet and mocking smile that could make a warm pond in the summer turn to ice.

After they have left, then the anger really hits, because now I have the leisure to rile and complain. I also have the ability to possibly punch something, or scream into a pillow (If available). I think of all the things I could have said, all the low blows I could have caused him pain with, and then i mentally run through all the weapons I have in my arsenal. However, after about twenty minutes of ranting and raving, I begin to slow down. I am most likely sitting or laying down on my bed at this point, and have successfully reached the point of pity. I pity the person that is hurting, or broken so much that they felt the need to humiliate me. It is the oldest trick in the book. If they can get the attention on them, then they feel more powerful, and their perception of their significance seems a little better.

However, the truth is that tomorrow morning the sun will rise, and the birds will be chirping, It will be a beautiful morning and he will wake up, back in the bed he made in life. Most likely in a melancholy disposition, he will take a deep sorrowful and lonely breath. He will get up and cross the room to the mirror, look at himself and realize that he hasn't changed and that nothing in life has changed. He isn't powerful, and the glory from the attention that he had yesterday, by hurting someone only lasted in the moment. He really was powerless.

Yes, I pity that person.

Then with conviction, I ask myself why I wasn't mature enough to pray for him in the first place? I am just as immature as he is. I was imagining different ways (for about twenty minutes) of how I could get back at him with weapons like a switchblade or a bazooka. Man is my mind violent! But the truth is that I don't even have a water gun! What was the motivation behind this? Probably because I wanted the power to get back at him. And so the cycle of offense and hurt goes full circle through his actions, and my reaction. Yes I pity him, but most of all in the end I must learn to love him. No matter how humiliating, painful, or unjust it was, in the end Christ's love is more powerful than my pity.

But loving someone after they hurt you is pretty hard! yes it is!!
BUT, I have to realize that learning to love someone overnight is near to impossible. It really takes time. However, after prayer, personal reminders, a scripture, and a quote about the betterment of mankind, maybe after all that hard work. and possibly talking to yourself in the mirror every morning for the next couple weeks, you will come to a place, where you will be able to love him as Christ loves him.

and that is the conclusion i came to after an incident today :) whew! I came full circle!

Finger Paints and Philosophy

The daycare was slow, and the students were less in number than usual. As a result of such a warm lazy day in the summer, the teacher decided today would be a great day to finger paint. With the bottles of rainbow assorted colors they set out for the classroom. The girls were giggly with excitement as they trudged down the hall. They felt important as they each helped the teacher carry the bottles. ponytails and braids swayed from side to side as they moved down the hall, as excitement filled the air.

Once they reached the class, construction paper of many colors were pulled out, t-shirts to get messy in were put on, and paints were poured on paper plates. The teacher said, in the most game show host tone like voice possible, "let the painting begin!" Loud giggles, screeching, talking and playing began as the shirts darkened with use and hands became slaves to the thick paints. Butterflies, hand prints, bugs, and plants were painted out on the paper! imaginations were set free, as what was in the children's heads were set free through their imaginations! It truly was a beautiful time!

"You can go to extremes with impossible schemes

 You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams

 and life gets more exciting with each passing day

 and love is either in your heart, or on its way."

-Frank Sinatra

That is when I entered the classroom! I saw all the fun and excitement, the girlish giggles from the three five year old girls and my best friend (the teacher) painting her mom. I laughed as I watched her try to make brown out of the glittery paints (that looked like a shade of poo) and laughed even more as the girls told me to sit at the child size table and make butterflies. As i tried to position myself in a sturdy kids chair at the table, I grabbed a white piece of paper and began my masterpiece. With hot pink, blue, orange, and purples i created butterflies, and with green made a flower and grass! 

However, as I was sitting there with the children, enjoying the moment, I realized a profound truth. When you are young, life seems so much simpler. Many things that are deemed as important outside the four walls of the intensely decorated classroom are no longer prevalent. Because, when you are sitting in a miniature chair, next to little girls asking you to draw butterflies, and your fingers are messy from the grit of the paints, you realize that life is so much more beautiful and fun when you are young at heart!

"Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on earth

to be young at heart

For as rich as you are, it's much better by far

to be young at heart."

-Frank Sinatra

I Natasha, and a White Donkey

Because I, this poor one,
love beautiful Natasha,
snow falls thickly tonight.
As for loving Natasha, I do,
and as for the snow, it falls thickly as
I sit sadly alone drinking soju.
As I drink, I think-
Natasha and I,
in the evening as snow piles up deeply, we will ride on a
white donkey.
into the mountain. Let’s live in a grass hut deep in the
mountain village where
the echoes murmur.
Snow falls thickly, and
I think of Natasha-
no way she won’t be coming.
She has already come quietly and talks to me inside.
Going to the mountain is not surrendering to the world,
but
leaving it and all its filth.
Snow falls thickly,
the beautiful Natasha loves me,
and somewhere a white donkey may cry for joy of this
night.

-Baek Seok (North Korean Poet)

This poem is so beautifully melancholy yet equally balanced with committed love and devotion. the longing for his lover is so apparent. I can feel the desire and pull through his words! how beautiful! 

At the Park

With a chilled green iced tea from Starbucks, black wayfarer shades, pen and paper, my handy dandy computer, my rainbow polka dotted backpack and my homework spread out about me. With all those things I successfully feel like a college student as I sit at a little round table outside Starbucks. K-pop music plays in my earbuds as i read my online homework about "Ethics in Leadership"
I catch myself lifting my head every few minutes pondering the little things in life. I ponder things such as laughter,  happiness, life, time, purpose. I wonder why I think of these things at such a young age. Is it ok to think of these things before my retirement? I don't know, but I do. I wonder what destiny holds, or what life holds concerning purpose. I wonder why certain things happen to people, why there is pain in the world. Why tears exist and how unfair life can be.

These are strange thoughts that pass through my mind. This goes to show how distracted I can get when reading case studies on organizational leadership. :) blech.
I have been pretty grumpy these days. I get grumpy when I am disturbed in my soul. That's when I know something deep within me is stirring and in pain. And there is most definitely a stirring.
Here is the truth of the matter. My motivation for actions in my life (no matter what it is) is driven by convenience, the path with least resistance and confrontation. Because, the thought of feeling anything that hurts many times is to much for me to bear. An example for the present would be my iced tea. My fingers are chilled at the tips from my iced tea and I am uncomfortable, but the slight discomfort in the end is worth the sweet taste of the tea.

I remember the most intense pain I have ever felt, it was when I was young and I was swinging in the park. I used to love to swing as fast and hard as I could. I would swing with all my might until it felt that the swing would flip me over the bar. It was exciting and exhilarating to feel as though I was flying. But as I began to grow overly ambitious I felt  confident enough to lift my feet straight up in the air when I swung forward. I did this over and over! it was so fun to see the sand on the ground as i lifted my feet as straight and as high into the air as I could. My brown hair would sweep the sandy ground as I flew by, with each swing, and the warm breeze ministered to my young heart. I was carefree. but I began to get to confident and as a result I cared less about safety. With each swing I grew more careless and before I knew it i had landed roughly and firmly on my back and all the air was knocked out of my lungs. I had hit the ground so hard, that for seconds, if not a couple minutes I could not move. Breathing seemed impossible, and my chest seemed to have lost the ability to capture anything worth saving me and my very bones screamed out in protest from the impact. I laid on the ground immobile and writhing within. The most heartbreaking truth of this story was that no one was there to save me. I was in pain alone. The pain was so intense. I remember thinking, "Oh the pain! Stop the pain." and later (at such a young age) I pondered the measures it would take to never feel that pain ever again. The few moments of pain for me wasn't worth the endless hours of fun I gained on that carefree day at the park. I learned through the years to be careful, and in some ways to never take chances, because if I did, I could end up hurt.

Now I am perfectly content with swinging ever so slightly on the swing. I enjoy watching my feet sway back and forth across the dirt as the creak of the chains sing a song to me. I especially enjoy those quite swings at night when I can look up to the sky and see the innumerable amount of  stars twinkle down on me. That is when I feel lovely peace. But how much of that enjoyment comes from precaution. Have I just conditioned myself over the years to enjoy a few moments of swaying my feet, when I could enjoy the full potential of flying into the sky? Am I holding myself back simply because I fear feeling pain again? I ask myself this question in true wonderment.

yes my iced tea has watered down, and the sky has darkened. The breeze has picked up and my homework still lies unfinished. But this question still troubles me. With recent death all around me, I have revisited this question out of concern for myself. Ashley maybe it is time to swing with all your might. Maybe, it's time for you to take a chance and throw your feet straight into the air. Don't fear the consequences because the swing can only take you so high, just as the fall can only take you so low. there is a limit to both. It's time to swing with free abandon. It's time to set yourself free.

An Apology to The Cliche

How do you begin an apology? How do they all sound to the ear? empty? half truths? White lies? Or sometimes can they really be deemed as sincere and full of remorse? I have been pondering life lately, and i believe i need to apologize to myself. I believed when i had written "Goodbye to the Cliche" that it was in all unbiased sincerity the only way to survive the past by forgetting it. but i learned that just because the cliche could not be real in the past doesn't mean the future doesn't have the potential for it.

Many times i catch myself looking at my life from a mirrored lens that has already aged and withered. But if that were the case, my skin would be wasted away already, and years of disappointments would have left its mark on me much deeper than it does now. I forget many times that in the now, in the present i hold the power to make the beautiful cliche a reality.

I can have the porch swing. I can have a husband that kisses me before work, and have a ranch home that looks out across half an acre of land :) I can make as much iced tea i want and sit with my children and listen to them laugh. I can buy the baby clothes and do my daughter's hair. I can have the cliche! It's up to me to believe that all that can come true. If i don't want a husband that yells at me and doesn't respect me then i won't marry a loser. i will marry a wonderful man of God that serves him with all his heart and has a heart to hear me and respect me enough. I can have reading hour, and cook him dinner (not around a tv, but at the table) I can have all that. I don't have to give up the cliche simply because I have never had it before!

and so i apologize to myself for believing that those beautiful things can't come true. I apologize for setting limits on myself. I apologize for being the pessimistic me :)

I FEEL BETTER! :)

The Grey Door Called Death

Sometimes when I think of death, I think of a grey door that is cracked open. One side of the door is dark and shadowed while inside streaming from the crack is light that is radiant and bright. But i stand at such a distance that I cannot see the mystery of where that light comes from. Many times I have wondered what it would be like to finally turn the door knob and open the door wider. I wonder what it would be like to have that white radiant light warming my cheeks as it touches my face. But there is a mystery of death that no living soul can fully understand. There are certain aspects we can grasp but as a whole we cannot touch the door, nor enter it because we are living.
Tonight I lost my Papaw and last week my dear friend lost her husband. But i didn't find out about his death until tonight. And as a result it turned into a double blow. I know they are both in better places but my heart aches and i wonder about that door.
I wonder why when I think of death I see a door. something that is so final yet full of potential. It is simply a door. A way of passage from one side to another but in passing through, you experience two different and completely unique settings. I miss my Papaw, but most of all I wish my mommy wasn't crying. I wish, she didn't have to experience the pain of 'losing someone.' Just as I wish I could heal the pain of Linda losing her precious soulmate. Through their pain and loss i ache just as deeply and I find myself once again contemplating the grey door called death.
The problem with this special door is that for the most part, once you step through you cannot come back. And a person's soul that once inhabited flesh now just becomes flesh. Empty, soulless, and quiet. I think that is the most perplexing aspect to me. Not death itself but rather the emptiness of the person once they are gone. That i think is the most painful part. Knowing that though that body may look like your loved one, may still feel or smell like him or her, it isn't them anymore. Yes I think that is the most painful part of all.
And I wish many times humanity didn't have to experience that kind of disconnect. And so i resolve to continue to see the grey door, cracked open, and I still wonder what lies on the other side. But as usual I sit here broken and mystified.