Adventures

On January 17th, I will be flying to Costa Rica to be part of YWAM Heredia's Environment and Resource Stewardship program (entertainingly called "EARS"). During a ten week class I'll apparently be learning everything from foundational missionary practices (how to help without being pationizing) to basic veterinary care to how to construct and take care of an aquaphonic system. Basically EARS combines two of my deepest passions: caring for the environment and helping others.

I just got accepted into the program a couple days ago, so I'm a bit in shock. Bah! Less than a month. There's barely even enough time to start a countdown. Think I need to go spin in circles for a bit - coherency will return shortly.

Anyway, I am excited to learn how to gracefully integrate my (occasionally unorthodox) views within a stricter Christian community as well as discover hands on techniques to promote sustainable development. I've been searching high and low for an opportunity like this! How often does one get the chance to combine two of their loves AND go to an amazingly beautiful place (ALL THE BIRDS)?

Oh, more logicistics, just for reference. I will be in Heredia, Costa Rica from January 17th through the end of March. After that, I'll go on an outreach to an unknown location until the beginning of July. Finally, I fly back to Seattle on July 7th. It'll be a long trip - especially since I don't know Spanish. "No entiendo" will become my new favourite words.

One more thing, for more information on the program or the YWAM base, here's a link: http://ywamheredia.com/training/ears/

They also have a fb page that is updated moderately regularly.

Please think of me and post travel tips! Either here or on facebook, whichever works. Hopefully, this blog will stay current, but I know myself well enough not to promise anything :)

Picture from the first time I was in Heredia - Youth Mission Trip 2010. I barely remember the base. Somehow, I think this experience will be a bit different...

Small Things

I'm starting to get restless. After so many adventures and new experiences in the past two years, staying in a single place with a fulltime job is rather... uninspiring. So I've put a lot of thought into a variety of plans and ideas - thinking about traveling, moving, and big changes. A lot of my thinking was spurred on by the idea that I care deeply about living compassionately and bravely, not simply sitting on a couch blogging my ideas into the air. If I care so much about the environment, I ought to do something about it. If I care that there are children who are unloved or starving, why not go love them? Idealistic and silly when I put it like that, but in the end, I think that putting effort towards my beliefs could help me move my live from idealism to realism.

Anyway, I realized today that I had forgotten about the small things in my life. My job wouldn't be able to just pick up and find a new person. I have responsibilities towards my family and my friends. There are small ways here that I can start making my life meet some of my ideals. Little things, which can be just as important, and hard, as more drastic measures.

All that to say, I just it's just not time to move on yet. Not that this means I can be complacent and comfortable, but there are people here who might need me, if just in little ways.

Hospitals

Though I've never spent much time in one, I've always hated hospitals. Yes, lots of healing happens, but so does so much hurting and death. Also, with the cost of medical care, it feels like a place of hopelessness. Passing by an office for a financial counselor right near the front desk is never an encouraging sign. No one should need to worry about the costs of their treatment. Yes, it's a reality here, but still, health is not something we have complete control over and no one should be punished for what their body and/or environment has done to them.

Mini (and very simplified) rant aside, this week my grandfather was hospitalized for the first time since my mom's parents mover up here about two years ago. This is a miracle, in my opinion, considering the state of his health, but this first stay is still stressful on everyone. Meeting new doctors, a new facility, and a new building is taking it's toll on all of us, though mostly Mom.

As they settle in though, I get this feeling of safety and security. Part of it is that my grandparents have money and insurance. Not an endless supply of course, but enough to not need to worry about a short stay. More importantly, while he's there nurses and doctors are on call to deal with any medical issues. My grandmother doesn't have to worry about new symptoms or about his weakness. If he fell, there is someone there to help him. If he starts having a coughing fit, a nurse will be in to give him oxygen.

As Grandpa gets ready to go home, there's a part of me that's worried about him leaving. He will be so much happier outside of the hospital, but still, what if something goes wrong? Will he be ok? I don't know. I can't know.

So, there isn't much of a point to this - just something I've been thinking about. I guess I just wanted to remind myself (and anyone who reads this) that all places and people seem to have two sides to them. Hospitals are a particularly stark example, but even then I was oblivious to that. Maybe I should look harder in the future.

In Christ Alone

Christianity isn't the Bible.

It's not the church.

Or the saints.

The stories, songs, missions, creeds, traditions, buildings. They are a part, but not the whole.

Funny thing is, that's all I ever learned about. When in reality, Christianity is about being like Christ. Not determining set rules for how everyone should be like him. Not focusing on not sinning. Not arguing with each other.

Christ loved others. If I could do anything in my life, that's what I would want to do. I hate to admit it, since so much harm has been done while attempting to be Christlike.

Still, a religion that tries to be just as loving and kind and strong as he was, that I can get behind.

A religion that emphasizes sin above all else. A religion that loves it's book more than it's God. Not so much.

Maybe I can learn to be a Christian my own way, preserving traditions while understanding them in the spirit they were meant instead of the literal words I see in front of me.

I hope so.

Because the world needs Christlike people. I'm not sure it needs more Christians.

"All You Need is Jesus"

Robin Williams died today. He committed suicide. So many people laughed at his movies, but in the end, I guess it wasn't enough. Makes me want to cry.

In reaction to this, some Christians look at Williams' life, shake their heads, and say "all he needed was Jesus, then he wouldn't have been depressed." To them, it's a non-issue with a single solution: know God and you will have all of the joy you need. Because no Christian would ever lose the hope Jesus gave them, after all, depression is simply an emotion, right?

But depression is not only an emotional reaction to our surroundings, it's also a biological issue, treatable with drugs and therapy. It is a problem, not an easily dismissed figment of some disturbed mind. People suffering from depression need support and help, just as any of us would if we contracted a disease. As Williams just proved, depression can kill. It is not a non-issue.

I admit, I've never been diagnosed with chronic depression, but I do have anxiety and take medication for it. Since I started taking it, my life has improved drastically. Yes, in my case medication was not the sole factor in helping me overcome anxiety, but it helps a lot more than I had hoped. Is it a placebo effect? Maybe, who knows. I personally don't care. The fact that it helps tells me that I needed a boost to get out of the hole my anxiety created and start looking at the world around me.

As far as I can tell, depression is like this as well. Yes, praying and having a relationship with God is theoretically the best medicine, but would you treat a disease solely with prayer? No. Would you tell a friend going those the loss of a loved one simply to know Jesus more? No. So don't treat depression like a simple little issue that can be wiped away by "knowing Jesus." Life is so much more complex, as much as Christians would like God to fix everything.

That might not have sounded like a rant to you, but guys, I'm pissed off by anyone who insults depression by shoving it off. People are hurting and we are the church - love others, don't demean their problems. Listen. Help. Leave judgment to God. Just because you personally have not experienced a sadness so deep that you can't walk away does not mean to dismiss the problem.

I've had extroverts do the same thing to my anxiety. It affects my faith to this day. Sometimes we need to listen instead of fixing problems.

Memories

Today I sat with my mom in a beautiful tea shop, just talking and enjoying each other's company.

There are so many favourite memories.

The Nosebag watching my dad take his first bite of clotted cream.

Tea and biscuits in an attic room as my roommate and I watched North & South.

Tea and scones on the floor of another room gushing over David Tennant's pretty face.

Countless conversations in the Rendezvous as we recovered from a long day at the library.

The day the stress of Oxford made me break into tears and my roommate was there to drag my off to a comforting cup, despite her own busy day.

Snow piled high around a Finnish house as a friend's mom lays out an amazing tea.

Another roommate walking in to find me curled up on her bed in tears after a recent breakup and promptly asking if I needed tea, which she proceeded to make and then watch anime with me.

Mint tea made with loving hands and much complaining.

Deciding on iced tea flavours with Mom.

Carefully cleaning and polishing her old oak recipe box in order to fill it with our bags. Seeing many memories and stories hidden in its hinges.

Handing a 5 year-old his first cup, and watching him spill it all over himself.

Memories. No wonder the British are so obsessed with tea. It's like drinking a bit of home, all the different homes, even when I feel so far away.

Control

I'm a tiny little bit dyslexic. Not much, just enough to make spelling difficult and to switch around numbers more than some. Usually it doesn't bother me - just pay attention to reading numbers out loud and be constantly aware of double checking spelling.

Today though, I switched numbers and letters around constantly while completely paperwork with my boss. She would read a number to me and I would have it backwards. A customer or two had to spell their names twice. Apparently I was told to type "bry" and spelled "byr" several times before getting it right. I am completely convinced that I was spelling it right the entire time, but that's another story.

Anyway, it's weird to have your brain mess with inputs to spit out a different result. Not my favourite experience and shows that I probably can't stay up until midnight reading all that often.

Mostly though, I realize how much I hate being out of control. That's my safety zone. As my perceived control over my actions and environment grows, I feel more confident to explore and adventure. But take that control away, well, I'm not happy. Probably something I should work on.

Tradition

One of my good friends just wrote a piece on tradition and its value vs. technology (http://savannahcordry.wordpress.com/2014/07/26/tradition/). It's one of my favourite paradoxes to consider, so I thought I'd continue the conversation here, but with a more limited scope: the church. This is one of the places that is both helped the most by tradition, and yet so hindered by it.

First, I should note that I hate parts of tradition. Women should be allowed to speak, dress, and act as they please. Men should be allowed to express their emotions, give hugs, and dislike sports without judgment. Christians have fervently upheld many of the traditions that trap both men and women in little boxes based on sex, refusing to allow their unique talents flourish.

However, my favourite place to worship is in the grand cathedrals of Europe or Central America. Here you can feel the contradictions of Christians - servants and slaves built these beautiful buildings because their masters believed they were truly loving God. But then, there are the parts made by the master craftsmen. The places with such detail and beauty, you glimpse a bit of heaven. In these traditions, in these holy places, you can glimpse the wider world of Christianity and all it has encompassed over the centuries. Whatever your thoughts on Christians, our history is not something to be dismissed lightly.

Similarly, tradition brings us closer together, while tearing us apart. Belief in the cross holds us together, until some break with tradition as others cling tight. Tradition cannot be the end or the beginning of our faith, but in many ways it feels like the glue that holds us together. I want to weave the central part of tradition into my life, but reject the parts that disrespect and hate others. Not only do I want to learn from tradition, I want to actively use it to shape my life and use the wisdom (or mistakes) of others before me.

Why?

Today I spent the morning and afternoon running around with two great chatterbo kids, an 8 year old girl and a five year old boy. This resulted in several rather awkward conversations, but this was the true gem of the day:

Boy: "How old are you?"
Me: "22"
Boy: "Are you a mama?"
Me: "No..."
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "I'm not married, so I don't have kids" (keep it simple - he can learn about single parents later, and not from me)
*silence*
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "Um, I haven't met the right person yet" (Seriously, is there a worse question for a single, Christian, twenty-something watching her friends get married off?)
Girl: "Well how do you know who the right person is?"
Me: "Um, well, um, uh, everyone has different ideas..."
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "..."

And the conversation ended shortly after that, probably with the two kids having no greater understanding of romance.

This just barely won out over the brief discussion of armpit hair and why girls shave it and guys don't.

Average

I've never viewed myself as particularly average. In school, I've always been one of the smart kids. In social situations, I've been the really shy ones. In places I'm comfortable, I'm an odd duck. Other people have noted that I'm very nice and kind. For good or bad, I've always had some defining characteristic that no one really shares with me.

For fun, I just took a fairly long online personality test. The format was a bit different than what I've encountered, so I was able to answer more truthfully than normal. Pretty much, it told me I was just like anyone else my age. Is the test right? Who knows, who cares. What got me thinking was how disappointed I was in being average.

Now that I'm graduated, I'm not special. I'm not different. I'm just one in a billion people wandering around doing stuff. The fact is that I can be ok with that. If I want, I could strive to do something that would hold me out of the average camp or I could do something more "normal," but just as meaningful. It doesn't matter.

I have the choice to base my worth on my own judgments. Meaning is what I make of it. I can choose to believe I am worthwhile because God loves me. Or because my parents love me. Or because I love stacking birdseed. Average is not an expression of worth, but simply an interesting factoid. Think about it this way, would you rather be known as unique or kind? Is it important to be known at all? Probably depends on the person.

Anyway, growing up is hard, just fyi.

Yay!

Things I'm not scared of any more:

- Strangers
- Large groups of strangers
- Garages, dark streets, my car at night, or any where a monster/criminal could be living out of sight
- Attracting attention through my appearance
- Breaking rules, within limits
- Coffee dates with people I don't know so well. An hour long conversation used to leave me exhausted, now it doesn't
- Lakes/oceans
- Randomly ending up on stage in front of a bunch of people, say to help the speak display a toy Thomas the Tank Engine as a visual aid
- My relatives. Used to freak me out that there was this bunch of practical strangers I had to converse with once-twice a year. Now I can love them and enjoy family gatherings.
- Airports
- Driving
- Eating with people I don't know very well
- Using public restrooms

Basically, having social anxiety sucks. It made my world very small and very scary for a long time. Now I'm getting a handle on it and I'm happy. Most of you will not understand this at all or think many of the things on this list are silly, but trust me, the silliest things can be very frightening indeed. In a world run by extroverts, my introverted anxiety driven brain can get a little squashed. I am thankful that my particular anxiety is controllable and I pray for those who don't have options.

Anime Review

I wrote a review of a anime for a friend's blog. Not gonna post it here because the majority of you don't watch anime, so no point spamming my blog. But if you want to read it, head over here:

http://spoilingeverythingdesu.tumblr.com/

Oh, and for anyone who wants to start watching anime (or get a better idea of what it is that I'm so obsessed with) I would very much recommend a visit! She does an excellent job of reviewing and has excellent taste.

Mergh

People are silly.

If I walked onto the beach with just a bra and underpants on, it would be completely unacceptable.

If I enter the same beach with a string bikini, it would be appropriate and possibly attractive.

Why society? Why so many inconsistencies?

And why does your inconsistencies make swimsuit shopping into such a challenge?

I protest. Mergh.

Rabbit Food

Today, someone walked into my work and asked for rabbit food to feed the squirrels. Literally, food you feed to rabbits. Why, one might ask herself, did this man walk into a Wild Birds store when there is a perfectly good pet store about 5 minutes away? And why does he want rabbit food instead of peanuts or hazelnuts or corn or sunflower seeds or even suet? Who knows.

People are weird.

House Sitting

Meet Mushroom (aka Mushy), my new buddy. I'm house sitting while her family is in England for two months. Which means I will be covered with a permanent layer of cat hair for the near future, as I have won her temporary alliance with a cunning combination of chin-scratches and canned cat food.

World Cup

"Ohmygoodness! I get to do this every four years!"

My mom on the phone as she freaks out about the World Cup.

Now this is kinda making my day.

Many kids my age don't want to move back in with their families. They love having their own lives, their own places, their own piece of independence. Me? I am savouring every moment at home. Not because I never want to leave - the lure of having my own place is quite strong in this one - but because these people and this time are precious. All four of us living at home as adults is fun and interesting. Soon, hopefully, this part of life will end, but until then, it's nice to have my family making my day.

Disney

Listening to my brother singing Disney at the top of his lungs.

It's kinda making my day.

The Dilemma of Pots

I love a good pot of tea, but I always find myself faced with a dilemma. Will I drink the whole pot? What if I waste good tea? Did I put enuogh leaves in? Should I put the milk in the pot or in each individual mug? Do I want to go downstairs to reheat it everytime or did I just want the taste? And if I make this pot of tea, will I ever convince myself it is worth leaving the house before it's gone?

All these and more come with making a pot of tea. Still, my love affair continues and I am forever devoted to my lovely teapot (currently filled with Whittard's Darjeeling loose leaf).

Father's Day

Tomorrow I get to celebrate my dad. Except, I forgot a present. And a card. And everything father's-day-ish.

So, I'm not winning an A for best daughter right now. I'm not failing - I could have gotten him smelly socks - but I have nothing interesting going for me either.

My dad's reaction to all of this "It's enough to have you as my daughter, I don't need a present."

Now, every good dad knows to say something like this in reaction to his children, but how many children truely believe it? I am able to 100% tell you that my dad is perfectly happy getting a hug tomorrow morning instead of a gift. He loves me and my brother enough that he doesn't need presents or cards to celebrate it.

While I'm disapointed that no inspiration for that one perfect gift struck and I haven't given the time to write a meaningful card, it's special to understand that Dad loves me and not the things I do.

Thanks Dad! Happy Father's Day! (Also, it's not fair that you gave me a gift instead of giving you one :P Maybe I make you cookies so we're even?)

Bird Shop Tales

My friend requested that I write up little stories from my work, since I randomly stop and start my blog. So here's one:

There's a little 92-year old lady who comes into our shop about once a week and buys SO MUCH SEED. But only in the 5 lb bags, because she is so tiny she can't lift the 10 lb or 20 lb bags. By tiny I mean under 5 feet and thin - in many ways this lady resembles the sparrows she feeds.

Last week, she wandered into the store, bought seed, and then asked for my help out with all the bags. As we went to her car, I learned about her husband and the hole his death had left in her life about 15 years ago. The birds were her hobby and her company these days, apparently, giving her something to watch and nurture and enjoy. It made me think about all the things we fill our lives with and how little we appreciate the people that take up so much of our time. When they're gone, what do we end up having left? Is it good or bad to use something as "simple" as birdfeeding to bridge some of the gap absences create?

It's different for everyone, I'm sure, but it challenges me to live my life in a way that will allow me to find contentment in every stage. Even if my life centers on feeding birds.

Update

No profound thoughts for today! Instead I'd like to give an update on my goings on, as I seem to have settled down at least until Christmas.

I'm living at home with my parents and brother, thoroughly enjoying some more time with the four of us. There's a part of me that's still wanting to be out the door, but time spent watching tv, eating meals, and chatting about our days is much more important. Also, I have no money. Ha.

But I do have a job! I'm working fulltime at a birdseed shop in the bellevue area. It's fun to listen to people's stories and give practical advice about how to attract any type of bird in any situation. The hours are good, the pay is ok, and I like my coworker (yes, I have exactly one coworker + one boss).

Grad school is definitely on hold, but I'm looking at possibly going for an environmental policy masters in a couple years. Not for a while, but it's nice to have a goal again.

Most importantly, there is a male Anna's hummingbird frequenting our backyard :3 Mom seems to have adopted him as her new friend. It's cute. I'm happy. Yay.

So there you have it. My life in a few short paragraphs. Not as interesting as it could be, I guess. Still, it's a fun sort of life, with the potential for flexibility and to meet new people and new experiences. Could be worse!

Faces

I used to think that wearing makeup was a form of lying. Not particularly wrong, just hiding the truth and concealing who I am behind a mask. Well, that and I was too lazy, cheap, and insecure to actually learn how to apply it. Beyond that, I wanted people to accept me for myself, not for my appearance. Putting honesty above social norms was a source of pride for me in many ways, of which makeup was only one.

Now I see the value in putting on my "face" in the morning. Of having a personality for interacting with people and for work. There are boxes in my life instead of striving for simple honesty. Lying doesn't bother me nearly as much since I learned to see the grey in truth-telling.

This knowledge allows me to fit in and makes me happier. Some days I wonder if it should.

Random

Life ought to have a soundtrack. 

Wouldn't that be cool?

End of thought.

Salvation

Salvation is the goal of Christianity. But should it be?

I guess to write this post properly, salvation ought to be defined properly. Except that there is no single definition used by the church, as shown by differing approaches to evangelicalism. If everyone saw salvation as that single moment that a person accepted Christ, we might all be living a bit differently. On the other hand, if salvation is a process started by that acceptance, well, the church would be transformed.

Imagine if salvation was not the goal, but the beginning of a relationship with both the church and God. If mentorship was a central goal of the church, rather than teaching and evangelicalism. What if we invited people to Easter service not to be "saved" but to become part of a community? Yes, salvation is an introduction to the church and the larger body of believers, but can one truly be a part of the group without getting to know anyone? Where is the support and the help and the hope and the healing? Much of it comes from God, but shouldn't some of it come from us?

As we invite family and friends to be a part of Easter service, remember that it is not about a moment, it's about relationships. Communion with God and with others was a central part of the church in Acts, and as different as we are today, I believe that it ought to be at the very heart of what Christians do today.

Confidence

My mom never takes good photos - it's one of my dad's complaints in life. But recently we went on a hike and took some pictures, which capture my mom beautifully.

So what changed? That's easy, about 60 lbs. Now my mom doesn't have to believe my dad and I when we say she's pretty, she actually thinks it. Also, she has accomplished something that might have seemed impossible a few years ago and has lost the pain she had in her knee. Giving up many of her favourite foods has totally been a success and granted her so much in return.

Mom, thank you for this life lesson: it is worth doing the hard things. Taking the time and the effort to gain confidence, to know who I am, and to build relationships is worth it. Losing weight was a journey for you and I will use the memories to inspire me.

"I'll be here"

People and faith. The two central questions of my life.

As I settle down into a more permanent home, it's becoming rapidly clear that I can't run from either anymore. New friends need to be found, old friendships preserved, and family loved. In this I have to face the person I am and how I have changed in the past two years. Not always a nice process, but hey, could be worse.

So finally, I am able to admit that I lost my faith somewhere. Not completely, not permanently, just wandered away. There's so much pain and fear in this world that I have trouble trusting his promises. And even if I do chose to believe his promises for my life, how do I communicate that to my friends without being dismissive or compassionless? That question must have an answer, but I'm not sure what it is yet. Revisiting all my beliefs and understandings of God is certainly a good first step in my mind. Yes, all of my childhood teachings might be true, but my application certainly was not up to snuff.

I haven't wanted to admit this though. I don't want to have my Christian friends preach at me or non-Christians feel a sense of triumph as I travel to their side of the fence. Asking questions and seeking God through doubt is well established thank you very much, and I am hardly the last in this tradition.

So I told God. After all, if you're taking a break in the relationship, it helps to admit it to the other party. His answer, as far as I could tell, was "I'll be here, whenever you need me." I might not have much faith. I might not know how real God is today, but I have hope that he will be there waiting for me and guiding me back.

Holes

It’s hard to write on this blog when I’m hurting, which tends to be anytime when I leave a group of people behind. They are scattered around the world now – Japan, Finland/England, Georgia, Portland, Korea (soon). As they settle in new places, I rejoice with their adventures and, frankly, I admire their courage. But that doesn’t make it any easier. Coming “home” to find that all of my friends are everywhere else is never a simple task for me. Then again, traveling to my friends away from my family is also hard, but that’s another story.

Anyway, the main thought I have right now is that these holes in my heart are the greatest gift I’ll ever have. It’s sloppy and sentimental and silly, but hey, it’s true. 13 year old me never thought I’d have a best friend, much less 6 of them floating about. That means I will always miss them. It will always hurt. But then again, how many people have that many friends who are worth keeping in contact with? Who they can turn to if anything goes wrong? Who they can love unashamedly without worrying about hiding?

Every day, I need to be giving thanks for the holes in my heart.

Montana Adventures

As I'm sure most of you know, I am not accident prone. Sure, I trip on things, I lose things for brief periods of time, and can be very scatter-brained, but in the long run I tend to be cautious and safe. No getting hurt or taking risks and keeping pretty good track of my necessities (glasses, wallet, coat, etc.).

So, here's what happened in the past four weeks:

Week 1: I put my glasses down next to me on my bed as I read, and managed to kneel on them when I got up. They broke exactly in half, as you can see in the picture. And now, since my prescription is outdated, I need to go to an eye doctor before I can order new ones online. Yes, I can see and function without them, but then again, it's pretty annoying.

Week 2: We go skiing, which was a lot of fun, and I didn't even fall. Until walking down the icey steps outside the lodge area as we got ready to go home. My bruise from that fall was nice and round, about 2 inches across. Ouch.

Week 3: Finally given an opportunity to get my glasses fixed, one of the staff members took the big 12-seater van out on a Costco run to Missoula (about an hour and a half away, just for reference). I tagged along and made an eye appointment and everything. Unfortunately, didn't end up at that eye appointment because the we spun out on the freeway while trying to avoid a jack-knifed semi. I went through the window and had to go to the ER because I hit my head a little. One CAT scan and lots of slightly amazed nurses later, we were off to Costco, but not early enough to get my eyes checked. Seatbelts kids! We love them.

Week 4: This weekend has thus far been relatively boring. Well, all of the staff who live in town had to spend the night on the ranch because they couldn't leave, meaning we missed the Marti Gras party. Even in all of this boringness, I managed to slam my finger between two pieces of wood, giving me a slightly black fingernail and a very sore fingertip. That'll make typing on Monday great good fun.

So, those are my adventures. There have been lots of good ones too - trivia nights in town, discovering the first type of beer that I actually like, getting more tipsy than I've ever been, feeding horses, relearning to ski, playing Risk, and watching all of the Olympics. I've made good friends and learned a lot from my work (my supervisor is amazing!). Still, interesting all of the random things that can happen, isn't it?

Rag Dolls

My freshman year of college I went through a poetry phase. I haven't written a verse since, but the ideas I came up with then, though clumsily written, manage to reflect my current thoughts. As I'm graduating and thinking about my "dream" job (and life), identity keeps coming up. It feels as if I just keep adding pieces and dropping others as I find what works and what doesn't. It's an interesting process and this little poem kinda says how I think about it.

Who am I?

The never-ending question,

So we watch,

We learn,

We see things we like,

Pick them up,

Use them,

Make them a part of us.

Perhaps a mannerism here,

A favorite song there.

All of us,

Little rag dolls,

Made from memories,

Observations,

A collection of pieces

Picked up from others

Weaving us together,

Our identities,

Inseparable.

VoteSmart

Ten weeks in Montana on a ranch 12 miles down a mostly unused road with no cell reception and a room door that doesn't enjoy the idea of closing. It's going to be an adventure, but it already has potential to include both working hard and a lot of laughing. Here's an idea of my new home:

Turkey tracks. The guy in charge of the property has decided to feed a local flock of wild turkeys, so now they know to head down to the barn every morning for breakfast. I view them as "mildly domesticated." Other critters include the lodge cat and the four ranch horses. 

Here's the barn. My roommate and I fed the horses today, which was a lot of fun. All of them are adorably fuzzy, as is appropriate for this much snow. All the snow. I want snow shoes.  

Moose Lake. Haven't seen a moose yet, but apparently they pop up occasionally.

Basically it is gorgeous and peaceful here. I'm excited to do some more exploring after I get used to the altitude a bit more. Definitely an altitude wimp here.

Musings on Javert

All of us have presuppositions about the moral foundations of the world. Some have articulated these ideas clearly, but most simply work off of cloudy ideas that we learned in childhood or from knowledge accumulated in our lives. School, work, religion, friends, family - these all influence how we define morality. Anyone who crashes into a situation that contradicts these presuppositions suddenly finds themselves on shaky ground.

I find myself thinking a lot about Javert recently. An honest man, but fatally flawed. He could not adjust his foundational ideas when confronted with more profound truth. Grace could not coexist with justice. Love could not be a law. Black and white had to rule, with no room for grey.

All of us have Javert moments when it feels as if the world has been turned inside out. I'm sure it is rare for reality to mirror the clarity of Les Mis, but still, every day holds the possibility of a challenge to our beliefs.

My hope and prayer is to never act like Javert. To accept grace instead of giving up. Our presuppositions can only take over our lives if we allow them.