It had been a long day. The annoyances and uncomfortable moments of life had gotten the better of her most of the day. Moments of panic had set in, only to be resolved through the natural course of time rather than her efforts to put all the pieces in some place, any place. Too many loose ends were flying around, and they had whipped her and left her worn and frail. All she needed waited for her inside the safe walls of her new home.
With journal and iPod in hand, she contentedly sat down in the armchair nearest the open doors overlooking the valley below. Within the walls she was protected from the unpredictable world outside, or so she thought. She opened her journal to write out some of these haunting emotions--old memories that still hurt sometimes and made the dailyness of life all the more overwhelming. That's not exactly the relaxing activity she had in mind, but she knew it had to be done. In all actuality, thinking about such things seemed more daunting than the 2 awkward date refusals she'd handed out earlier, her potentially kidnapped roommate showing up late from work after taking the long way home on her bike, and returning home to the car alarm blaring into the quiet afternoon and the plastic clock in her borrowed car gone from the dashboard. None the less, the hurt was growing and she knew that confronting demons was the only way of casting them out.
She hadn't been writing 5 minutes when she simultaneously saw her roommate's head quickly turn and heard a deep voice calling out through her enjoyment of her favorite Postal Service song. As, I don't know, luck...or God...or nothing in particular, would have it, she had the only actual view of the visitors. Just outside the gate, clutching the iron rails, stood a small man and his even smaller wife.
Before she could expose herself as the sinful, judgemental jerk that she was, the gate-holders began yelling out words and requests with a confidence that comes from experience. She understood basic words like 'jacket' and 'cold' and 'hungry' and, somehow she got his specific request for 'baked beans'.
She looked at her roommates and they just sat staring at one another. I mean, there they were in their nice clean clothes, in their nice clean house, safe and content. After the various scares of the day, the last thing she wanted to do was hear these people. But she saw that the responsibility defaulted to her because she was the only visible person from their view.
She stood up and the others in the room followed. They found a brochure for a local homeless shelter, and stepped through the threshold of "safe" and into the afternoon breeze. Little did she know that she was about to gain the ghost of another child of God, a "jesus in disguise", a chance to really live out this gospel she waved around, another crack in the tile of her heart.
Mary Solomons stood next to her husband with her arms by her sides, looking into this white world with the same curiosity the resident had for that of her visitor. Mary's 5'3, 100 pound frame was loosely covered in raggedy black cotton pants, a red sweater with a teddy bear sewn on the front, a light, black windbreaker torn across the right shoulder, and a black beanie pulled down to her eyes. From underneath Mary's hat, wisps of grayish black hair blew in the wind and matched the thin mustache which had grown ever-so-slightly into the camouflage of her darkened and wrinkled skin.
She walked up and stood across the gate from Mary. "I smell", Mary said. And she did. Mary had not showered in a long time. As Mary spoke, she caught a glimpse into Mary's empty mouth and discovered one last tooth hiding inside. As she studied Mary Solomons, she tried also carrying on a semblance of a conversation with Mary's husband, the one with the voice. It was this voice that had introduced her to Mary when she was sitting with pen still in hand and music still in ear. "This is Mary", he had said across the once-distance that had separated their worlds moments earlier.
Now she stood, and Mary was very real. Mary's eyes pierced hers. It was as if they were nose to nose. They explained to the 2 visitors where the shelter was, that it was a place where they could receive food and clothes and showers and blankets, and that the girls would be there Monday to welcome them in. But their need, the visitors claimed, was more immediate, for "it is cold and these clothes are old. And we need some baked beans."
FREELY YOU HAVE RECEIVED, FREELY GIVE.
They handed the visitors a box of crackers and watched as they took it and began backing away thankfully. "Can I pray with you?" she asked. Mary Solomons eyes opened widely and she neared the gate and neared the girl for the first time. "Can I take your hand, Mary?" she asked. Hesitantly Mary lifted her weathered hand to the girl's and let it rest close to her heart.
AND WHERE TWO OR MORE ARE GATHERED IN MY NAME, I AM THERE.
She asked God to continue providing the clothing and food and love the visitors needed. And she asked Him to bring them to the shelter so that she might have the chance to know Mary Solomons and her husband more, and that they might find God there also. The prayer couldn't have lasted more than one minute. "Amen."
She looked up and Mary Solomon's once skeptical eyes were full of tears. One by one they began skating down Mary's hurting face. She immediately joined Mary and began wiping her tears away. Mary neared her even more and placed her head on the girl's chest and cried. She held Mary, and together they cried for the pain in their hearts, for the pain in their world.
CARRY EACH OTHER'S BURDENS, AND IN THIS WAY YOU WILL FULFILL THE LAW OF CHRIST.
She whispered to Mary that she was precious, and she was. That God never left her, and he doesn't. That he loved her and watched her. Mary looked up into the sky and stared around. Mary Solomons stood, looking for God.
FOR THE EYES OF THE LORD RANGE THROUGHOUT THE EARTH TO STRENGTHEN THOSE WHOSE HEARTS ARE FIXED ON HIM.
And then Mary grabbed the girl's hand and kissed it. As Mary walked away, tears still dripped down her face. Arm in arm with her husband, Mary waved goodbye, walking backwards away from the safety of the moment.
Mary Solomons didn't need a jacket or a blanket or baked beans. Mary Solomons needed to be loved without condition.
Ashley Lovell didn't need to be alone or to hide in her music or to pour her hurt into her journal. Ashley Lovell needed to be loved without condition.
AND NOW THESE 3 REMAIN: FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE. BUT THE GREATEST OF THESE IS LOVE.
Sunday, 26 February 2006
Saturday, 25 February 2006
After a long day of work, the three of us decided to visit the beach for the first time since our arrival. We went to a place called "boulders", named for all the large rocks along the shoreline. This picture is taken from atop one of the boulders I climbed. I spent about an hour exploring these rocks alone. It was such a therapeutic time for me to be alone with God in his beautiful creation. Through it I discovered that rocks are very random things. Think about it. What real purpose do they serve? There are big rocks, small rocks, pebbles. People use them to decorate gardens, to prop doors open, to weigh things down, and Jesus was hidden behind a rock until he exited the tomb after 3 days of death. For me, I think rocks are a reminder to play. I have so many memories as a child of climbing huge rocks with my dad. He was a big hiker and we'd always go out West to visit Wyoming and the Dakotas and Arizona. Each trip included climbing rocks, boulders, rock walls, and petrified wood. To me, rocks always remind me to play. Climbing the rocks of Cape Town, I remembered the innocent joy found in exploring God's creation. It was a really great afternoon for me.
This picture was taken at Pat's birthday dinner at the game reserve. Next to me is Melissa, my roommate from DC. Behind her is Pat, the birthday girl and our other roommate from Asheville. Next to Pat is Wendy from Trinidad, volunteering as Living Hope's journalist for the next 2 years. And behind me is Susie from Colorado Springs. She moves back to Colorado in a month. Susie is the one who settled us here in South Africa.
And now, my parting words to you:
Wednesday, 22 February 2006
you might remember me...
you might remember me.
i hacked into your blog. sorry.
i thought it the best way to find you.
and tell you i miss you.
and tell you i love you
and tell you im sorry for being gone
and for being this;
for being away when you were right next to me
and wishing you were right next to me when you really are away.
i want to tell you everything.
and cry to you
and laugh with you
and get lost in stories with you.
im so sorry, 5.
i really am.
"goei more". good morning in afrikaans.
This is the website for the The Fish Hoek Drug Crisis and Information Center, where I spend my days working here in South Africa. I am able to meet with various people from the Fish Hoek community and surrounding areas and counsel them. Some of the people we see are drug addicts, while others are the family and friends of drug users. We also have support groups for addicts on Thursday nights, and on Saturday mornings we have an Al-Anon meeting. How cool! I will now be helping facilitate an Al-Anon meeting! Experiential training at its finest!!
I have spent all day reading through material we have in our library. I was able to pray for one of our clients earlier today who is addicted to "tik" (street name for crystal meth because of the sound it makes when you flick the needle, or straw, with your finger before you use). You often hear people saying "tik. tik." as they walk around looking for their next high.
The problem here is quite severe. Statistics from my research this morning showed that 60% of high schoolers in the Ocean View aread where we work are addicted to tik. Children as young as 5 have recently been reported to our center for treatment of tik addiction. Girls are selling their bodies for the drug, creating a ring of prostitution/drug use. It's a totally different world to see this so up close.
Also, I'm starting to learn Afrikaans!! This is the language of the white and colored communities, but most everyone speaks it aside from English. My coworkers are giving me lessons!!!
I have spent all day reading through material we have in our library. I was able to pray for one of our clients earlier today who is addicted to "tik" (street name for crystal meth because of the sound it makes when you flick the needle, or straw, with your finger before you use). You often hear people saying "tik. tik." as they walk around looking for their next high.
The problem here is quite severe. Statistics from my research this morning showed that 60% of high schoolers in the Ocean View aread where we work are addicted to tik. Children as young as 5 have recently been reported to our center for treatment of tik addiction. Girls are selling their bodies for the drug, creating a ring of prostitution/drug use. It's a totally different world to see this so up close.
Also, I'm starting to learn Afrikaans!! This is the language of the white and colored communities, but most everyone speaks it aside from English. My coworkers are giving me lessons!!!
Tuesday, 21 February 2006
driving around.
around the corner from my house.
melissa and i with the penguins.
our power has been out for 3 days now in spurts. everytime we get to a place to send email, the power shuts off again. sorry for the delays. as my friend lesiba in joburg said the other day, "it may look first world, but under the pretty mountains and ocean and sky, south africa is still a 3rd world country. after starting my work and meeting people and seeing how things operate, i won't argue with his observation. if you could see into my world right this moment, you'd find me and melissa parked outside the church in the dark, near a big jehovah's witness party next door, bumming the wireless signal that's been down all weekend. we're still strapped in, lights on, typing away. pretty hilarious!
i'm sunburned. i fell asleep outside for like an hour and i woke up frying. also, i went running today and i won't point i think i was running through the eye of a tornado. cape town is an incredibly windy city.
melissa and i with the penguins.
our power has been out for 3 days now in spurts. everytime we get to a place to send email, the power shuts off again. sorry for the delays. as my friend lesiba in joburg said the other day, "it may look first world, but under the pretty mountains and ocean and sky, south africa is still a 3rd world country. after starting my work and meeting people and seeing how things operate, i won't argue with his observation. if you could see into my world right this moment, you'd find me and melissa parked outside the church in the dark, near a big jehovah's witness party next door, bumming the wireless signal that's been down all weekend. we're still strapped in, lights on, typing away. pretty hilarious!
i'm sunburned. i fell asleep outside for like an hour and i woke up frying. also, i went running today and i won't point i think i was running through the eye of a tornado. cape town is an incredibly windy city.
collum from dublin.
today we arrived at the church to drop off some Living Hope photo display boards for Avril to pick up later today. as we drove in the parking lot, a leathery-skinned white man with bony arms and fingers, a bright green tshirt, and a pair of dirty old khaki shorts hanging off his frail waist stood under the awning of the church. like a rickety old fence, he stammered from one leg to the other, as if the plastic bag in his hands was too much weight for his weakened body. his hair, the color of his skin, was messy and dirty.
as he approached our open window, something inside of me froze. i tried looking into the man's eyes but it was as if none existed in his face. for behind the surface of his eyes, nothing seemed to exist. and smothered on top of these empty eyes was a thick film of disillusionment, so thick it made his eyes appear transparently white in color. had he pricked his eyeball with a pin, it seemed that water would pour forth for ages, perhaps the tears of lost years that had never been let loose. for a man such as this, tears might be the only thing left he had to hold on to. shedding them would be to loose little of the nothing you have left.
i stuck my right hand out the driver's window (which is the right front window down here) to shake this man's hand. instead of a hand shake, he only stared at my hand, up at my face, and then down at his own scarred and cracked hand. "I have AIDS", he said. "I won't let you shake my hand."
His name is Collum. He's from Dublin, Ireland, & living in Cape Town for a reason I'm not sure of. He need 3 Rand (50 cents) to get home. He has just drawn the letter "J" in the ground to represent his belief in Jesus. He had no belongings with him. He claimed to have just come to the church to receive drug counseling and a bite to eat. He had been "wasted" the night before, which he translated to us to mean that his girlfriend had stolen all his money and ran off. He claimed to have nothing left.
Physically, the man looks like a cracked-out drug user who might or might not have AIDS. He hadn't showered in a long time. Mentally, he wasn't all there. He had fragmented sentence and thoughts. But his words were convincing.
What do you do?
as he approached our open window, something inside of me froze. i tried looking into the man's eyes but it was as if none existed in his face. for behind the surface of his eyes, nothing seemed to exist. and smothered on top of these empty eyes was a thick film of disillusionment, so thick it made his eyes appear transparently white in color. had he pricked his eyeball with a pin, it seemed that water would pour forth for ages, perhaps the tears of lost years that had never been let loose. for a man such as this, tears might be the only thing left he had to hold on to. shedding them would be to loose little of the nothing you have left.
i stuck my right hand out the driver's window (which is the right front window down here) to shake this man's hand. instead of a hand shake, he only stared at my hand, up at my face, and then down at his own scarred and cracked hand. "I have AIDS", he said. "I won't let you shake my hand."
His name is Collum. He's from Dublin, Ireland, & living in Cape Town for a reason I'm not sure of. He need 3 Rand (50 cents) to get home. He has just drawn the letter "J" in the ground to represent his belief in Jesus. He had no belongings with him. He claimed to have just come to the church to receive drug counseling and a bite to eat. He had been "wasted" the night before, which he translated to us to mean that his girlfriend had stolen all his money and ran off. He claimed to have nothing left.
Physically, the man looks like a cracked-out drug user who might or might not have AIDS. He hadn't showered in a long time. Mentally, he wasn't all there. He had fragmented sentence and thoughts. But his words were convincing.
What do you do?
Friday, 17 February 2006
ra-ra for ra-ra.
today is
birthday.
happy birthday robin. i miss you. you are R-ridiculously hilarious, O-oh my gosh I wish I were that funny, B-beginning a new journey of life, I-impossible not to love, N-not knowing it but coming to Africa for a visit.
enjoy your madeline and coffee and yellow wallpaper.
eat greek food for me.
birthday.
happy birthday robin. i miss you. you are R-ridiculously hilarious, O-oh my gosh I wish I were that funny, B-beginning a new journey of life, I-impossible not to love, N-not knowing it but coming to Africa for a visit.
enjoy your madeline and coffee and yellow wallpaper.
eat greek food for me.
look through my windows.
so, i found the cord for my camera, thankfully! i was about to be really sad that i couldn't show you pictures. i wish i had one of my driving! last night we were down at the church checking our email and my roommate melissa wanted to stay longer, so pat and i drove up the mountain to our home. our plan was to come back down and get melissa later. so, when she called and was ready to come home, i volunteered to go alone. i had not driven yet.
oh my gosh! first of all, our driveway is like a vertical wall, it's so steep. I handled it well but then once i got out on the streets, i kept forgetting that they drive on the left aand that all the blinkers and lights are on the right side of the steering wheel. but i remembered i was driving a stick shift, so that kept me out of total danger.
all in all, it was good. i drove again this morning and it was fine. it's a gorgeous day. the sun is shining and i woke up to the wind blowing into my bedroom through the open windows.
this is out the window of the homeless shelter office in muizenberg.
this is the area the shelter is in.
this is the hospice, across the street from masiphumelele, the black township we work in.
and this sign is just funny to me.
oh my gosh! first of all, our driveway is like a vertical wall, it's so steep. I handled it well but then once i got out on the streets, i kept forgetting that they drive on the left aand that all the blinkers and lights are on the right side of the steering wheel. but i remembered i was driving a stick shift, so that kept me out of total danger.
all in all, it was good. i drove again this morning and it was fine. it's a gorgeous day. the sun is shining and i woke up to the wind blowing into my bedroom through the open windows.
this is out the window of the homeless shelter office in muizenberg.
this is the area the shelter is in.
this is the hospice, across the street from masiphumelele, the black township we work in.
and this sign is just funny to me.
Thursday, 16 February 2006
ashley in africa after all.
Let me start this by saying that i'm having serious trouble getting to the blog webpage. I'm not sure what the deal is, and it's frustrating because I know there are lots of you wanting to read updates. Please just know I'm trying and I will give it a hearty attempt whenever I'm online, which is once a day if I'm lucky. This will change as I settle. I forget it's only my second day here! Feels like a lot longer than that.
Yesterday was quite a blessed day. I got a cell phone, some groceries, and a car was loaned to us by nightfall! We had been praying throughout the day for a car, and at dinner our boss called to say we could use his after all! And then this morning a woman emailed us to say she'd sell us her car for about $3,600. I'm really praying about what car to purchase. I know now that i need one, but I don't want to choose it out of impatience. And yet, by next week, we'll all need to be going our separate ways and it will be hard to figure out for everyone if we don't have our own method of transportation. John Thomas informed me that I'd need a car, aand I don't want to inconvenience anyone by not getting one. So please pray for this with me!
My trip over to Africa was fine. I slept at least half of the 18 hour flight from Atlanta to Joburg. Then the flight on to Cape Town was pure adrenaline. As we crossed over the mountains peaks and cirlced back to the airport over the joining of the Indian and Atlantic oceans, my heart soared with joy. i couldn't believe i was finally here. A place I've longed to see for 2 years now. It really did feel like a homecoming. It was surreal. And the peace has withstood all kinds of overwhelming moments and times when i was going into information overload. however, the move has completely murdered my anti-coffee campaign I left the states with. Today I am enjoying a nice big cup of brewed black coffee and foreseeing a return to my old habit. it's a comfort from home I feel entitled to!
Today the 2 roommates and I took a walk down to the church to check our email. it was a lovely walk, minus pat falling and nearly rolling down the mountain we were trekking across. It freaked me out, all I heard was a thud. She's fine, but learning to keep her eyes on her feet, not the passing traffic.
The land is gorgeous. The flowers are vibrant. The air is clean. The sky is blue. The people are delightful. And after a trip to the mall i was unaware of yesterday, I found that life here is much different from life in Asia. It warms my heart to see the diversity of our world. I long to know more about this place. I find myself drawn to being educated about it, and to being unafraid to look foolish as I experience it for myself.
I'm very blessed and I thank all of you for your contributions and emails. It's so comforting to feel this loved. It's a gift most of hte world doesn't have. Thank you for enabling me to pass your love along to those in need.
oh, and i apparently left my camera cord (along with lots of other things!) at home, so no pictures for a while. I'm so bummed about this. I'll do what i can.
love to you all!!!
Yesterday was quite a blessed day. I got a cell phone, some groceries, and a car was loaned to us by nightfall! We had been praying throughout the day for a car, and at dinner our boss called to say we could use his after all! And then this morning a woman emailed us to say she'd sell us her car for about $3,600. I'm really praying about what car to purchase. I know now that i need one, but I don't want to choose it out of impatience. And yet, by next week, we'll all need to be going our separate ways and it will be hard to figure out for everyone if we don't have our own method of transportation. John Thomas informed me that I'd need a car, aand I don't want to inconvenience anyone by not getting one. So please pray for this with me!
My trip over to Africa was fine. I slept at least half of the 18 hour flight from Atlanta to Joburg. Then the flight on to Cape Town was pure adrenaline. As we crossed over the mountains peaks and cirlced back to the airport over the joining of the Indian and Atlantic oceans, my heart soared with joy. i couldn't believe i was finally here. A place I've longed to see for 2 years now. It really did feel like a homecoming. It was surreal. And the peace has withstood all kinds of overwhelming moments and times when i was going into information overload. however, the move has completely murdered my anti-coffee campaign I left the states with. Today I am enjoying a nice big cup of brewed black coffee and foreseeing a return to my old habit. it's a comfort from home I feel entitled to!
Today the 2 roommates and I took a walk down to the church to check our email. it was a lovely walk, minus pat falling and nearly rolling down the mountain we were trekking across. It freaked me out, all I heard was a thud. She's fine, but learning to keep her eyes on her feet, not the passing traffic.
The land is gorgeous. The flowers are vibrant. The air is clean. The sky is blue. The people are delightful. And after a trip to the mall i was unaware of yesterday, I found that life here is much different from life in Asia. It warms my heart to see the diversity of our world. I long to know more about this place. I find myself drawn to being educated about it, and to being unafraid to look foolish as I experience it for myself.
I'm very blessed and I thank all of you for your contributions and emails. It's so comforting to feel this loved. It's a gift most of hte world doesn't have. Thank you for enabling me to pass your love along to those in need.
oh, and i apparently left my camera cord (along with lots of other things!) at home, so no pictures for a while. I'm so bummed about this. I'll do what i can.
love to you all!!!
Tuesday, 14 February 2006
Monday, 13 February 2006
hey white people.
so, here i am. sitting in atlanta. paying $8.00 to post this dern thing and to send some emails. I'm such a sucker for communication. I love being in touch with people. And i think there are lots of you out there who actually do care about these minor details of such a journey, and will appreciate the effort. Time will tell.
i've had a great morning. michelle helped me cut line at BNA and get to my plane b/c i was too busy talking to lynn and julie and when i looked at my watch it was 630 and the security line was out the door. so, thanks to mk i got on my plane. thanks, girl.
my dad and i had a wierd goodbye. sorry dad. if we weren't so alike, we might not find ourselves irritating each other so much. but i love you more than moths love ball park lights. and mom, thanks for walking me down the lobby. you'd have walked through that wall if you could.
blake swanson was on my flight to ATL. We had lunch (ok, he bought me lunch and then i hauled it to my terminal, where i am now...apparently i had that flight time wrong after all, blake. how do i travel alone and not end up in antartica?) I'm playing the passport game, just for your comfort. I think every one of you asked me where it was last night or this morning. So, i do the following:
"Ashley, where's your passport?" Then i give myself 3 tries. If i get it the first time, I nod my head lightly and smile like I'm listening to a really good rap song. If I get it the second time, I kinda pull my upper lip into my nose and fight off being critical that I didn't get it right the first time. If I get it the third time, I have a mini-panic attack. It should not take me 3 tries to learn my lesson.
Oh, here come the pilots. There they go. Off to prepare the something or other. They looked awake. They looked sober. That's all I need to know.
I'm going to go do a crossword puzzle or something. It seems like the right thing to do.
Listening to the Beatles. "HELP!" comes to mind. But that's not the song I'm stuck on!
Love to you all.
ps-- pamela just emailed me the blog for the children she basically raises in nepal. please check it out and support her. she's pretty much amazing.
i've had a great morning. michelle helped me cut line at BNA and get to my plane b/c i was too busy talking to lynn and julie and when i looked at my watch it was 630 and the security line was out the door. so, thanks to mk i got on my plane. thanks, girl.
my dad and i had a wierd goodbye. sorry dad. if we weren't so alike, we might not find ourselves irritating each other so much. but i love you more than moths love ball park lights. and mom, thanks for walking me down the lobby. you'd have walked through that wall if you could.
blake swanson was on my flight to ATL. We had lunch (ok, he bought me lunch and then i hauled it to my terminal, where i am now...apparently i had that flight time wrong after all, blake. how do i travel alone and not end up in antartica?) I'm playing the passport game, just for your comfort. I think every one of you asked me where it was last night or this morning. So, i do the following:
"Ashley, where's your passport?" Then i give myself 3 tries. If i get it the first time, I nod my head lightly and smile like I'm listening to a really good rap song. If I get it the second time, I kinda pull my upper lip into my nose and fight off being critical that I didn't get it right the first time. If I get it the third time, I have a mini-panic attack. It should not take me 3 tries to learn my lesson.
Oh, here come the pilots. There they go. Off to prepare the something or other. They looked awake. They looked sober. That's all I need to know.
I'm going to go do a crossword puzzle or something. It seems like the right thing to do.
Listening to the Beatles. "HELP!" comes to mind. But that's not the song I'm stuck on!
Love to you all.
ps-- pamela just emailed me the blog for the children she basically raises in nepal. please check it out and support her. she's pretty much amazing.
Saturday, 11 February 2006
motherland.
Natalie Merchant, one of the best lyricists (is that a word) in my opinion, sings a really poignant song for me today. Reading it on the surface, you might think I'm feeling nostalgic, hesitant to leave, judgemental but still unsure what I think.
In my defense, let me say that none of those are true. I'm so excited to leave I could get on a plane this second. I'm so looking forward that the past just annoys me when it tries to distract me. I'm so sound in my decision that I'd go through the awful difficulty of the past 7 months just to relive the beauty of the lessons learned.
I feel so alive today. So unified. I'm cutting the rope on the anchors of my past, the ones that won't let me sail on. I'm being unwound before the Lord, because I'm realizing that I'm allowed to beat those old knots out of me, finding greater flexibility and energy as the toxins leave my body.
I feel like I've been reworked into a whole new person. And this song is exactly where I am in my mind. I just translate it differently than I would have a few months back...
Motherland
Where in the hell can you go far from the things that you know
Far from the sprawl of concrete that keeps crawling its way about 1,000 miles a day?
Take one last look behind, commit this to memory and mind.
Don't miss this wasteland, this terrible place.
When you leave keep your heart off your sleeve.
Motherland cradle me, close my eyes, lullaby me to sleep.
Keep me safe, lie with me, stay beside me don't go.
Don't you go.
Oh, my five & dime queen tell me what have you seen?
The lust and the avarice, the bottomless, cavernous greed, is that what you see?
Motherland cradle me, close my eyes, lullaby me to sleep.
Keep me safe, lie with me, stay beside me don't go.
It's your happiness I want most of all and for that I'd do anything at all, oh mercy me!
If you want the best of it or the most of all, if there's anything I can do at all.
Now come on shot gun bride what makes me envy your life?
Faceless, nameless, innocent, blameless and free, what's that like to be?
Motherland cradle me, close my eyes, lullaby me to sleep.
Keep me safe, lie with me, stay beside me don't go.
Don't go.
In my defense, let me say that none of those are true. I'm so excited to leave I could get on a plane this second. I'm so looking forward that the past just annoys me when it tries to distract me. I'm so sound in my decision that I'd go through the awful difficulty of the past 7 months just to relive the beauty of the lessons learned.
I feel so alive today. So unified. I'm cutting the rope on the anchors of my past, the ones that won't let me sail on. I'm being unwound before the Lord, because I'm realizing that I'm allowed to beat those old knots out of me, finding greater flexibility and energy as the toxins leave my body.
I feel like I've been reworked into a whole new person. And this song is exactly where I am in my mind. I just translate it differently than I would have a few months back...
Motherland
Where in the hell can you go far from the things that you know
Far from the sprawl of concrete that keeps crawling its way about 1,000 miles a day?
Take one last look behind, commit this to memory and mind.
Don't miss this wasteland, this terrible place.
When you leave keep your heart off your sleeve.
Motherland cradle me, close my eyes, lullaby me to sleep.
Keep me safe, lie with me, stay beside me don't go.
Don't you go.
Oh, my five & dime queen tell me what have you seen?
The lust and the avarice, the bottomless, cavernous greed, is that what you see?
Motherland cradle me, close my eyes, lullaby me to sleep.
Keep me safe, lie with me, stay beside me don't go.
It's your happiness I want most of all and for that I'd do anything at all, oh mercy me!
If you want the best of it or the most of all, if there's anything I can do at all.
Now come on shot gun bride what makes me envy your life?
Faceless, nameless, innocent, blameless and free, what's that like to be?
Motherland cradle me, close my eyes, lullaby me to sleep.
Keep me safe, lie with me, stay beside me don't go.
Don't go.
Tuesday, 07 February 2006
the bulge.
this tree lives out by radnor lake. everytime stacey nebel and i hike there, we pass by and wonder what causes such a beautiful and tall tree to have a big bulge at the bottom. it really made me sad last time as a lady walking by told us that the tree has a bacteria which makes it bulge. the tree is old, so it's obvioulsy overcome the sickness, but it's still really sad. i thought about my own bulges, times when there was a sickness in my life and i stood alone in a forest, reaching up for a better place, naturally being drawn to the light.
i like this tree. i'm trying to memorize psalm 96. verse 12 says "let the fields be jubiliant, and everything in them. then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy;" this stuck in my head after seeing the bulging tree. trees are pretty loud megaphones shouting god's glory in this world, and just like me, we shout louder and clearer and with more passion when we stand tall with our bulges in clear view, showing god's power to overcome the most obvious mark of imperfection.
Monday, 06 February 2006
the politics of creativity.
"in our society, at the age of five, 90% of the population measures "high creativity."
by the age of seven, the figure has dropped to 10%.
and the percentage of adults with high creativity is only two percent!
our creativity is destroyed not through the use of outside force, but through criticism, innuendo..."
--finley eversole.
by the age of seven, the figure has dropped to 10%.
and the percentage of adults with high creativity is only two percent!
our creativity is destroyed not through the use of outside force, but through criticism, innuendo..."
--finley eversole.
Saturday, 04 February 2006
being childlike.
i wish every saturday morning could have started like this one. i had breakfast with a 9 year old and life felt right.
i'm really realizing how fortunate of a person i am. i have people all around me who are helping make my move to africa easier and more unified.
my last day of work was yesterday. that was a really great job and brought me so many new friends. it was just the place i needed to be. it's hard leaving it behind, but i know there are amazing days ahead.
but it's that time of preparing where everything shifts. i'm just trying to keep my feet steady. i see the high importance of god's word these days. i see the value of friendship and email. i see that when doors close, you don't try to force them open.
priorities are important to understand right now. because time doesn't rewind and in 8 days, i'll not be able to do certain things. i don't want to inhibit the grieving of others or myself by being afraid of the current pain. i don't want to judge others because that's the measure i'll be judged with in the end, and that's a scary thought.
i want to be poised and composed and i really am. i'm at peace with this decision. and i know that because i'm not trying to convince anyone of that. i'm just stating it because it's true, and then i'm letting my actions speak.
but being with children the past few days really helps. it simplifies things. coming at life with the innocence and hope and vitality of a child reminds me of better days. it's nice to be reminded today that it's ok to be childlike.
i'm really realizing how fortunate of a person i am. i have people all around me who are helping make my move to africa easier and more unified.
my last day of work was yesterday. that was a really great job and brought me so many new friends. it was just the place i needed to be. it's hard leaving it behind, but i know there are amazing days ahead.
but it's that time of preparing where everything shifts. i'm just trying to keep my feet steady. i see the high importance of god's word these days. i see the value of friendship and email. i see that when doors close, you don't try to force them open.
priorities are important to understand right now. because time doesn't rewind and in 8 days, i'll not be able to do certain things. i don't want to inhibit the grieving of others or myself by being afraid of the current pain. i don't want to judge others because that's the measure i'll be judged with in the end, and that's a scary thought.
i want to be poised and composed and i really am. i'm at peace with this decision. and i know that because i'm not trying to convince anyone of that. i'm just stating it because it's true, and then i'm letting my actions speak.
but being with children the past few days really helps. it simplifies things. coming at life with the innocence and hope and vitality of a child reminds me of better days. it's nice to be reminded today that it's ok to be childlike.
Thursday, 02 February 2006
amy-jo you need to know.
so this is amy-jo. she's really thoughtful and smart and fun and creative and wise and helpful and i like her because she always takes me to puffy muffin for hot spiced tea, and she always pays :)
and my parents ate thai food with her and her husband darrel (also very cool person) last sunday after church, and my dad (and mom) really likes them. i hope they will all be friends.
anyways, this was at the bottlerocket film festival. i like the mood this picture creates and the memory it represents.
i just wanted you to know this girl.
Wednesday, 01 February 2006
born for the struggle.
Yesterday, Coretta Scott King died at age 78. For the past 38 years she has been the widow of civil rights activist, Martin Luther King Jr. After his death, she founed the King Center in Atlanta, she convinced Ronald Reagan to claim MLK's birthday a national holiday, and what I notice today--she worked both here and in South Africa to fight against apartheid until its demise in 1994.
Last night in his state of the union address (in which he compared the Burmese people to those of the middle east in terms of human rights and freedom), Bush opened by saying "Today our nation lost a beloved, graceful, courageous woman who called America to its founding ideals and carried on a noble dream. Tonight we are comforted by the hope of a glad reunion with the husband who was taken so long ago, and we are grateful for the good life of Coretta Scott King. Minus his sorry use of adjectives such as "glad reunion" and "good life", I was moved to tears by the President's words of acknowledgement of such a woman. The idea that she "called America to its founding ideals" leaves me really thankful for her life. Whether or not that calling has transcended generations, political changes, and social issues of our day, she spoke truth into one part of injustice: racial segregation.
Racial issues baffle me from a moral stance, but I see their likelihood from a human stance. We all find something to make us feel more superior than others, whether we want to or not. For the deep South, for white South Africa, for the Burmese people and the chaos of the past: the holocaust in germany, the balkan conflicts, the palestinian/israeli terrors, the death of millions in rwanda, cambodia, and many other unnamed countries---for all of these places have suffered the unjust and baffling power struggle spawned from the adjectives such as "different", "unique", "poor", "dead offspring". Some people really are able to walk through the world killing everything around them just by their anger, and the manifestations that anger takes.
Andrew Young, a former UN ambassador, former mayor Atlanta, and friend of the King's said of Coretta: "She was born for the breadth and depth of responsiblity she incurred as the wife of MLK Jr. She was strong, if not stronger than he was. She was born for this struggle."
I wonder, are some people born for such struggles, such battles? Are some people born to die for a cause such as this? History seems to believe so.
I hope you can stop today and thank someone for their sacrifice to make your life a little better.