hullo 2010

I think I'm ready for 2010.

It's kind of weird, being a child of the 80's, that I'm a full decade into the 21st century. Yeah, it's a whole lot different from my childhood imaginations, but in a relatively pleasant, realistic manner.

For example, it would be highly impractical for me to be an astronaut, detective, and rancher all at the same time.

I like where I'm at in life,
Which brings us to the plot, plot we've got, quite a lot
As it unfolds you'll see what starts like a scary tale ends like a fairy tale
And life couldn't possibly better be.

revelations

new love.
somewhere along the way, i've uncovered/discovered a subconscious love affair with hippos.
between songs like "i want a hippopotamus for christmas" and "the hiphopopotamus and the rhymnocerous," i've come to wonder what it'd be like to have a large, yawning water horse in my backyard. trying to keep it at school would be truly amusing. perhaps it could live on the sport court? there's a wonderful indoor swimming pool: this might be a better locale.

expansion.
i need to join a team. sports. basketball/soccer. either one would be great. i simply go through annoying little stages where for four weeks out of the year, my metabolism takes a vacation and i start wondering what i'll look like at fifty. slender and gorgeous like my mother is the goal. we'll see? in the meantime, the Y has no idea how awesome they are. i'll be shooting hoops at 8am if you'd like to join me.

connections.
i had my first shrimp taco today, courtesy of a very bored and amazingly awesome fuzzy's manager by the name of pedro. beware! he claims he can't cook, but he lies! as always, fuzzy's rocks my planet.

letters of the day

Dear Fuzzy's.

Thank you for inventing chips and queso. Also, your salads are ridiculous.

Quite full,
Rachel

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Dear human race,

Combining mustard yellow, bright purple, and neon orange is a mistake. Sunsets can get away with it. A tie-died XXXL t-shirt cannot. Somewhere, a sunset is weeping. Please do not ever commit such an atrocity again.

Horrified,
Rachel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Stella Russell Hall,

Hot water is a wonderful invention. We know for sure that the Romans, in the very early years of civilization, piped it into their cities using ingenious mazes of aqueducts and indoor plumbing. It was significantly before Wal Mart's time, and I'm quite certain that even the ancient Egyptians may have also managed to generate hot water.
In addition, singing in the shower is not as much fun in cold water.
Please get with the times.

Shivering,
Rachel

glorious life

the explanation.
It's been a long, eventful, yet boring semester. Same-o, same-o.
Living on campus has solved old problems and created new ones. We solved the problem of gas, traffic, and leaving campus at 11pm to drive home. The temptation to remain in bed until the last possible second and the ability to pull all-nighters have put a serious cramp or two in my style. Discipline was something I realized I needed about halfway through, and by then, I was already in something of a rut.

Classes were actually pretty decent considering my considerable, if atypical, over-commitments. I still have a professor chat to attend, then deliver Christmas gifts to various friends - including the one in Taiwan.

sidenote. because every note needs one.
Speaking of...What's the zip code for Taiwan supposed to look like anyway? Does UPS consider it to be part of China? And why does it look like "Taipei City" and "Taiwan" are the same thing? Oh I know it's not. Taipei City is the name of the city and Taiwan is the province within the ROC (Republic of China), but that still doesn't explain what I'm supposed to do with the zip code or why UPS won't accept either specification as valid.

no. no. no. please? well ok.
Sometimes, I think I must have "I don't say no" tattooed on my forehead where everyone else can see it. Or it could just be that I'm a pushover and know that if I say no the first time, all someone has to do is give me pleading looks and possibly a hug and I'll do just about anything. I just save everyone the time and trouble and say yes. It's alright, usually. I'm slightly addicted to the feeling that someone wants me around, even if it is for purely practical reasons. And I'm fairly decent with schedule juggling. Outside of August 17-19 where I was literally bouncing between 3 different places for 3 different training sessions, I haven't actually run into any kind of crises involving my physical location.

It has felt a bit odd at times, though. Kind of like a golden retriever with too many sticks to chase. You eventually just want to lay down and simply look at them all, trying to decide which one to tackle first.


hating wordpress.
Yeah. That's pretty much it.
I'm really disliking wordpress at the moment. Not because they're horrid or whatever, but because I've been staring at it for the last two hours. This rambler graduation salute is becoming more of a pain and less of a salute by the moment.

baby, it's cold outside
Anyway, Christmas break is kind of exciting. I haven't actually been this excited about Christmas, decorating, cooking, presents, etc, in a long time. But spending time with friends, shopping for gifts [and sending said gifts], and decorating like Martha Stewart on steroids has been so wonderful! I've missed it. I'm still very much a summer child. I miss my tan, my golden hair, and the ability to run around in flip flops with no make up and wet hair. But if we must have winter, I'm glad Christmas is a big part of the package.

chestnuts roasting on an open fire
There is a fire in the fireplace that's keeping me warm and toasty. I love sitting less than four feet from it - of course, you have to turn every so often like a rotisserie chicken to keep from getting too well done on one side or the other. I think that's my favorite part about winter at home. We make good use of our fireplace.


After feeling nothing short of awful most of yesterday, I think I'm now back to %100...perhaps a bit more. I love laughing with my family and we laughed for a long time last night. We're probably all a bit strange, but then again, who isn't? Heh, discourse communities! we communicate differently based upon where we're at and who we're with - why wouldn't it be the same with family?

So today - hang with family, deliver presents, work, hang with friends, finish salute. I like this schedule.

To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
-Walter Scott

fear and faith

Not really sure what it is about being sick that drives me to blog. I think it's just that being sick forces me to stop my constant movement in every direction long enough to think. In this particular instance, I've had the chance to sleep and think. What a happy combination!
So between spoonfuls of echinaccea/goldenseal, pieces of apple, cups of tea, and bowls of chicken noodle soup, I've had time, lots of time, to really think about life, my purpose in it, and some of my fears.

Faith is to believe what we do not see, and the reward of this faith is to see what we believe. -- Augustine

Fear, by its nature is an emotion caused by a lack of security. It's the dark mutterings that tell you that you're too weak, too small, too insignificant for things to work out. Sometimes, it's disguised by practicality and whispers that your actions are insignificant in the long run.

True faith goes into operation when there are not answers. -- Elisabeth Elliot

I was sharing this with my mother the other day; that there are a handful of things that I feel very strongly about, but I'm afraid that when I try them, they're going to flip, flop, and fail. Fear is a powerful paralytic.

She let me talk; voicing my fears drained me of most of my energy. Being sick and fearful all at once made me want to crawl back in bed and hide. Yet God gave us mothers for a multitude of wonderful, amazing, and fascinating reasons. [Besides the ones about washing or wearing enough clothes in cold weather.]

"Maybe," she said, "instead of worrying about it, you should give it to God." They were simple words, but somehow, I felt loads lifted and suddenly, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The thought had simply not occurred to me. God knows my future, and He's the one that's put me in the position I am in. As long as I do my dead level best, there's no reason I cannot simply leave the results in God's hands. She went on to say that I should take it a step further. This is where it's going to get a bit tricky, but I think it could work. I once heard a devotional on Proverbs 3:5-6.

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding; in all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths.

Essentially, he noted that when we acknowledge Christ in all that we do, we maintain a Christ-centered focus. When that happens, our paths are directed and "all these things shall be added unto you." In short, God is able to both use and bless you.

So my mother's point was that should I ensure that my professors, those I interact with know that the source of my strength, my creativity, and even my ability to communicate well is God-given.

I don't know how the future is going to play out, but I see that my mother is right. Perfect love casts out fear, and God is love. The closer I stay to Christ, the less I have to fear.

Christ demands of the man who trusts Him the same reckless spirit... that is daring enough to step out of the crowd and bank his faith on the character of God. --Oswald Chambers

survival with value...

So last semester was definitely a study in many things. Juggling a tight schedule, learning to deal with classes I didn't want or like, trying to build a GPA, survival of the fittest both the mental and physical senses...[what little "good stuff" in the cafeteria was gone if you didn't get there fast!]
If I were to identify a theme, though for last semester, it would definitely be learning to read people.

It's true. I've never been the most intuitive people-person. Some people are just naturally and obviously readable, others look as though they're readable, but aren't in reality. Still others are impossible to read at all. As of last semester, I was definitely still on level one.



I had always been in situations where, even if I couldn't read the person, I would know their back-ground. Homeschooled, conservative, public schooled, church member...they all had titles that I knew and could build a profile for. After my first few weeks of school, however, I suddenly realized that I no longer had that safety net. I was on my own and would have to learn to either read people as individuals, or figure out the context in which they fit.

As the semester wore on, though, I realized that reading people wasn't as difficult as I thought it'd be. After a while, it comes naturally. Knowing when a new acquaintance is ready to talk, would make a good study partner, or would be a great person to grab a cup of coffee with goes a long ways towards the beginning of a friendship.

I doubt that I'll have any truly close friends at Wesleyan, simply because we're all so different. But maybe, just maybe, there'll be a few this semester.

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival."
- C. S. Lewis

jack's on his way...

i used the heater in my car tonight and it kind of shocked me into realizing that wow. it really is cold outside.

so i guess winter's almost here when:

i'm planning a camp-out

shopping for long-sleeved items

4 more weeks til school's out

i regularly wear a light jacket when walking outside

i have a stash of hot chocolate mix

i can no longer comfortably wear flip-flops

I think there's still a few more weeks' wear left in my shoe of choice, but there's no denying that it's getting closer. I'd actually like to see the global cooling people proven right...lots of snow would be cool.

Rains made mirrors of the earth...

It's a rainy fall day in the small but grand city of Fort Worth, Texas.

After completing my errands, attending my classes, and running through sheets of rain, the best place on earth to be at the moment is in Panera Bread. They serve their food in brightly colored, but very simplistic dishes.

Their food is always very homey and soups are even better, and best of all, there are cookies, coffee and free Wi-Fi; which means I can do all things in the most wonderful spot on earth whilst looking out over the rainy University St. traffic and feeling satisfied that I am not among them.


The sun was just yellow energy
It is a living promise land
Even over fields of sand
....

Really, this little piece of heaven is just what I could have wished for. With two papers due, an interview, two mid-terms, a quiz, and my first Moot Court tournament all this week, having a few moments to slow down a bit before launching myself full-time into the maelstrom, is an absolutely must.


Of course, I can't say that I'm definitely not doing anything. I caught up on my New York Times readings, am reviewing some of my old Con-Law lectures on commerce clause issues, and am making sure that my outlines line up with my thoughts for this weekend.

In listening to the lectures, I am reminded of some of the more interesting nuances of my education in general. Patrick Henry College, is by its essence, is one of my heroes. It stands for professionalism, morality, wisdom, and in an ultimate sense, Christ. The faculty and administration are a constant reinforcement of these values and its influence can be felt even a thousand miles away. While not everyone always agrees on smaller issues, [did you choose Christ or did Christ choose you? was the civil war about slavery or states rights? is it possible to have too much emphasis on reason?] the beauty is that the values behind the institution are constant and to this point, unchanging.

In sharp contrast, it is difficult to nail down exactly what Texas Wesleyan University stands for. Oh it educates individuals, certainly and places most of its graduates in fairly decent job positions. But as was so eloquently pointed out in Economics this morning, we do not live to work. At TWU, National Coming Out Day is celebrated campus-wide, obscene displays may subtly grace the inside of the library, dry campus policies are quite wet, and despite stellar credentials, it is rare to find true professionalism among the faculty. Oh there are the exceptions. My Economics and Business professors are definitely among them. In other classes, however, the professor is not the servant of education or a steward of wisdom, he or she normally has their own personal message to convey and they will do so in whatever manner they see fit; even if it is offensive to other students.

Once I graduate, none shall say that I have not had a well-rounded education.

in and not of...

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

~Romans 12:2

You know, I don't think I've ever truly understood the concept of being in, but not of the world. I sincerely doubt that I'm alone on this topic, but still, when God shows me something new, I always feel as though I am the first to discover it.

:smile:

Perhaps this is natural, since my relationship is always between just myself and my Savior.

So I knew that going to a college like Texas Wesleyan was going to be a challenge; but certainly not in the academic sense. They're bottom-rung in the liberal arts section in the US News & World Report of top colleges in America. They accept primarily the kids who either can't afford to go anywhere else for a liberal arts education, or those who'd just rather party their way through school. Still, they do have qualified professors, classes are small and personal, and while the classes are academically unchallenging, for someone accustomed to academic achievement, your education is what you make of it.

I knew all of this.

But somehow, I didn't count on a complete lack of, well, hmm...perhaps I can say it this way.

I certainly didn't count on going to a school that was primarily heathen, as my mother would say. Ah, godlessness is the word. Even though I've only been through about the first two weeks or so of school, I feel as though I've lost so many of the assumptions I've made about the world in general and about actually functioning on my own as a part of that world.

I have been described as "an eternal optimist," and I do try to first view things as sunny-side up. I try not to ignore reality, but at the same time, who said the glass had to be half-empty? I faced my first challenge after moving in on Monday when classes hadn't yet started.

I was hanging with what I thought were surely a nice group of girls...when some of their language suddenly started to slip into PG-13 ratings. I inwardly shook my head and thought: "they're trying out new things since they're just out of highschool...they'll level out again after the jitters are gone." But then, the language got a bit rougher; I started to feel a bit uncomfortable. After all, this was the first time I'd actually heard people my age using language like this, and I was quite sure how to respond to it. One thing led to another, and pretty soon, they all started playfully calling each other names, and not things like "dork," "weirdo," or "flirt." Try the R-rated versions.

Well, that about did it for me.

I graciously bowed out [ie made some excuse about having to make a phone call], and made my getaway to ponder what had just happened.

As a Christian, how do you respond? What should you say? Leave? Quietly melt into a corner? Laugh and ignore the unsavory words spoken while still participating in the conversation? Stop being such a prude and adopt the lingo of the natives? [When in Rome?]

If that had been it, I think it would have quickly faded as an unresolved question into distant memory.

But bright and early Wednesday morning, in my very first class of the day, I was suddenly accosted with the thought that a few professors on campus do not value professionalism above individual expression.

[Lest someone take this other than intended, let me back up for a second. Professionalism, as defined by experience, is something that when all else fails, should be a standard of conduct in any situation. One does not wear distracting clothing, for this is unprofessional and distracts from the message you seek to communicate. One does not say offensive things, because this also detracts from the message you seek to communicate. It does not mean you lose your sense of style or originality, but it does mean that you are more considerate of your audience than you are your own personal comfort. Ultimately, professionalism is the neutral platform upon which anyone can stand and successfully communicate with anyone.]

My first prof told me that only he and one other prof were "permitted" to curse excessively. He's also the one announced that should we need to find an STD's testing facility, he would be the one to help us out. Also, if any of us should be addicted to cocaine, crystal meth, or speed, he has had a high success rate in eliminating addiction in those particular areas.

The next day, my first prof of the day proceeded to rant for a full 1.5 hours on how the American economic system only caused crime and war, there isn't enough money in Social Security because taxes aren't high enough, and we need socialized healthcare. My second prof explained to us that the Indians were systematically eliminated by the white settlers, and that the Indians weren't heathens. They were "earth people." But my last prof took the cake. She let us know up front, that this class would not be for the faint of heart. She would cuss if she wanted to, she would talk about things that would make us uncomfortable, and before anyone tried to convert her, she let us know that it had been tried and she knew she was going to hell. She goes to church, but is an atheist. :sigh:

The wicked, through the pride of his countenance, will not seek after God: God is not in all his thoughts.

~Psalm 10:4

After four/five days of classes, I still wasn't certain of how I was supposed to fit into all of this, though. I mean, I kept thinking "renew your mind...don't conform, renew..." It became something of a mantra.

Finally, after many mother conferences and some reading, I remembered one of the very first passages I'd memorized as a child.

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

~Psalm 1:1

Certainly a thought to ponder. So how, exactly to translate? I think Paul provides further clarification:

Be not deceived: evil communications corrupt good manners. ~I Corinthians 15:33

Evil communications has often been translated as wicked or ungodly company. But in my particular situation, I think it applies w/o interpretation.

Even though it often doesn't quite feel right, natural, or Christian to speak of people as evil, wicked, ungodly, or unrighteous, God clearly defines them, what they say, and what they do.

An integral part of not being of the world is learning to see things from God's perspective, and God says:

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

~Philippians 4:8

I've already dropped a class from my schedule, and am planning to drop another. Lord-willing, however, I'll be able to maintain my hours and then some through CLEP tests. I plan to CLEP American Govt, American Hist I & II, Intro to Psychology, and College Algebra. If I can land a 60 on each test, they will count for 15 hours and will bring my hours to a total of 27 by January. I view that as the major highlight of Texas Wesleyan; they will accept the CLEP instead of spending two-three hours a week under the influence and power of those who hold the knowledge of God and the principles of Christianity in contempt.


In short, classes have been interesting. My high-lights have been the Baptist Student Ministries meetings, Moot Court prep, Intro to Business class, and my Macro-Econ class. So it hasn't been all crazy, random, and offensive, but it's definitely enough to keep things interesting.


I certainly can't say that I've learned everything I need to know in the last two weeks, and now I'll be perfectly prepared and will know what to do in every circumstance and will always shine as a light no matter what is said and who is standing in front of me.

Still, I rest assured that as long as my vertical relationship with God remains priority, worries about what I will say, how I will respond, or what to do in various situations have definitely been mitigated. After all, life is all about whose perspective, whose glasses you use when evaluating life.

"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
"What's for breakfast? said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"
"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
"It's the same thing," he said.

...for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart.

~I Samuel 16:7

how sweet it is?

I was just reading some comments left by people on another website, and it suddenly struck me that words like "husband" and "wife" are generally left out of the majority of public discourse. They were replaced with words like "partner" "lover" "mate" "boyfriend" and "special friend."

Disappointed? yes. Saddened? most definitely.

There's an astonishing lack of commitment present in today's society. We're so accustomed to microwaves, shortened semesters, cell phones that are mini-laptops, and planes that can fly us from Texas to Tokyo in eight hours that there's just no real need to commit to normal things. Unfortunately, we've pulled this attitude into our relationships and attitudes as well. Someone who stays a second or two too long at a green-light will get a terse honk to move things alone.

Churches rarely retain most members for longer than 3 years at a time. Friendships come and go based on convenience of communication and interaction. A married couple who's stayed together longer than five years is becoming hard to come by.


Marriage. I don't wonder why it's such a discarded relic of the past. It simply saddens me to see people substitute a similar relationship to suck the "good stuff" from a marriage, then leave when there's nothing left. Civil union couples have a fight with the knowledge that one or both can walk away at any point without breaking any commitment to stay; frequently, that's exactly what happens. Even some marriages are like that.

Without the commitment of "for better or worse," there's no incentive to dig deeper, to invest, to get to know the individual you've decided to move in with.


What have we lost?

gods can neither see, hear, nor speak...

I am reading Til We Have Faces again for the first time in a little over two or three years. Usually, I read and re-read a book to the point that I have every line memorized and have analyzed it down to nothing. But at the time I read it, I had little time for anything outside of school or work for it. So while I found it to be one of my better reads yet, I didn't remember much of it when I came across it before church this morning in our bookshelf.

Now that I read it again, though, I cry because I know what's coming, and have to watch my eye make-up. [o for a world w/out makeup!]

It makes me grateful that Christ has shown us true love, and it is not at all blind. It is the kind of love that does not look at the sacrifices of self, does not remember the things you've done to deserve less, and does not require standards to be achieved before love can be given. It reminds me a great deal of the love Istra/Psyche has.

Anyway, I was struck with a note of sadness watching Orual struggle with the concept of a wooden/stone/iron god. The Fox has told her that this god can neither see nor hear...and at that moment, we needed to get out of the car for church.

In Sunday School, we're studying prayer...one of the main points in this morning's lesson, though, was that we don't simply talk at God, or make requests...only a four year old does that.
God made us in His image so that man would be able to have that fellowship...a relationship with God. Relationships don't happen without two people communicating with one another. Really, the word stressed was dialogue.

To dialogue with God...beyond the simple "how are you doing today?" It stretches much further than that into a realm I often have trouble expressing. Yet even David mentions in here:

Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah.
-Psalm 62:8

The first thing I noticed was that trust was the precursor to "pour out your heart before him."

There can be no relationship without trust. Of course, if you're not trusting someone else, you're self-reliant; and if you take away trust, all you're left with is what you provide yourself with. Without trust, we merely pray to the gods of our own making, and hope that somehow, we'll get the job done on our own.

I can think of no greater sadness than this.

My day in a sentence:

Time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life.

Facing my giant

I took my power in my hand
And went against the world;
’T was not so much as David had,
But I was twice as bold.

I aimed my pebble, but myself
Was all the one that fell.
Was it Goliath was too large,
Or only I too small?

~Emily Dickinson

Pride is such a sneaky little evil. It usually doesn’t take me long to recognize my failures, but it always takes me forever to dig myself out of the holes I manage to fall into head-first. I usually adopt a thoroughly disgusted attitude towards myself and my most common thoughts run along these lines:

- God? He’s likely shaking His head: “There she goes again.”
- Way to go Rachel. You never tried counting the repetition on this mistake before…don’t think about starting now. You’ve done this one as many times as there are sons of Israel.
- God hears the prayers of the righteous… Nope. Not me.
- Confession…biblical characters actually tried to establish a relationship with God. What have you done Rachel?? nilo...nada.

I think my favorite biblical character is a close draw between David and Paul. To me, out of all the other characters, these were simultaneously the most human, yet effective saints for God in Scripture. Not only that, but I love the way David’s writings speak right to my heart, and Paul is always there for the mind.

Anyway, so as those lovely little thoughts were running their normal course in my mind this morning, it suddenly occurred to me that, well, I messed up again. David goofed up royally with Bathsheba. He wasn’t supposed to even be at the palace, much less ogling another man’s wife, and HE KNEW IT! But he didn’t sit around and mope when Nathan confronted him; he went straight to God.

Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me.

- Psalm 51:1-3

David’s offense meant death if anyone ever dared say anything under normal circumstances. Even worse, his sin was always fresh. [not like I haven't been there before!] Yet David didn’t ponder the significance of his wrong action and leave it at that. Like a small child, David appealed to God as a loving father; something that I’m simply not accustomed to.

In church last Wednesday, one of our elderly gentlemen made the statement that because of Christ, we no longer stand behind a curtain, unable to enter into the presence of God. I can come as a child, wrap my arms around His neck, call Him “Abba” (Daddy) and make my requests in His ear. I still must remain responsible for my actions, but knowing that my heavenly Daddy cares for me so much more than my earthly daddy is a knowledge that floors me (and often makes me cry) anytime I try to wrap my mind around it.

As a child of God, I am surrounded with his lovingkindness, His tender mercies are constantly available to me. Only my pride can keep me from Him.

See, it’s not my job to judge my sins, nor is it my responsibility to decide what God can handle, who He listens to, and whether or not He will answer me. It's like a child punshing himself for what he's done and often, without even realizing it, I am harder on myself than God even is.

Rather than taking on a giant that I can’t beat anyway, I will rest in my humility, as David did, and beseech my Father for not only His forgiveness, but for His favor.

My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world. And hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his commandments.

- John 2: 1-3

Killing Time...

Dear Finals,

In a word: I'm terrified.

You possess the qualities of a tyrant without even trying, and trying to defeat you is a daunting chore. (I think you must have taken lessons from Machiavelli.)

You are omniscient because you often know the answers when I do not. You are omnipotent because you manage to consume at least two weeks of my life without even trying. You are omnipresent because you exist as a looming and impending occurence from August to December, from January to May, and in some cases, from June to August. Always, always always...

You invade my subconscious mind much like the barbarians invaded Rome (which was sacked in 410 BC); slowly but surely deconstructing my cognitive powers and making certain that I will retain absolutely nothing of value or relevance on the day you arrive.

Like the division of Europe during the Religious Wars (from 1562 to 1648) you divide my mind into several pieces and leave me to reconnect them. Once I've sketchily reconnected the thoughts you've scattered here and abroad, I seem to be predestined, elected, and chosen by you to a degree of everlasting tormet determined by the amount of studying I've completed by the time you requre an account of myself.

Finals, I. will. not. give. up.

My efforts for success will not be as futile as those of Guy Faulkes in the Gunpowder Revolution! I shall, like Augustus in 31 BC, piece together my scattered pockets of knowledge and connect them with thoughtful roads of wisdom and insight that will so astound my professors, that my finals will turn tail and run in the face of so formidable a Reformation!

I shall emerge triumphant, and on Tuesday, at 11:59 pm, I shall shout: IT IS FINISHED!!!!!

Sincerely,

- Rachel

The Lord is "all that?"

The New Book of Common Prayer
As I was lazily perusing the web on this delightful Sunday afternoon, this caught my eye. Apparently, the book of Common Prayers are no longer so very common, so the Anglican Church has decided to go with a much more "hip" version; specifically, the Hip Hop Prayer Book. To me, the title sounds a bit like something out of Dr. Seuss, but I'm certain no one minds that.





In late 2002, Reverend Holder identified the problem in his South Bronx Parish:
Since men in the South Bronx have a close to an 80 percent chance of being incarcerated at least once before they're 40, it's crucial to train the youngsters. But in the South Bronx, he encountered a bit of a relevancy barrier. It wasn't long before he proposed offering the first hip hop mass to his bishop, who promptly agreed.
According to a Beliefnet article, this movement isn't limited to the Episcopal.

He worked with Episcopal, Lutheran, and Roman Catholic clergy and lay people to create seven Friday masses in the summer of 2004, with the theme, "The word was made flesh and dwelt in the hood," adapted from the Gospel of John.

Dwelt in the Hood?
The Gospel is the Gospel whether it be hip-hop, the New Living Translation, or the King James Version, according to the philosophy of Reverend Holder. Yet I wonder...while I think there's some merit to making the Gospel easily understood, I'm not sure that I believe scriptural doctrine or continuity is going to remain the same when the words used now create drastically different connotations. Take for example, Psalm 23:

Psalm 23 as adapted by Ryan Kearse
The Lord is all that, I need for nothing.
He allows me to chill.
He keeps me from being heated
and allows me to breathe easy.
He guides my life so that
I can represent and give
shout outs in his Name.
And even though I walk through
the Hood of death,
I don't back down
for you have my back.
The fact that you have me covered
allows me to chill.
He provides me with back-up
in front of my player-haters
and I know that I am a baller
and life will be phat.
I fall back in the Lord's crib
for the rest of my life.

Saying that the Lord is "all that," connotates a different meaning than saying the Lord is "my Shepherd." The use of shepherd analogies, parables, and symbols are heavily utilized in Scripture and describe a picture of Christ. The Lord truly is "all that," but the phrase doesn't give you the same image and certainly doesn't tie key portions of Scripture together in the same manner the word "shepherd" does. There's more value in Scriptural diction than mere poetics.

Familiarity Breeds Contempt?
The Reverend's desire to communicate to his audience through all this is admirable, and it doesn't have changed concept of the passage. But before we go chillin in God's hood, let's remember to not accept things at face value without first checking our facts. Sometimes, the common is much more extraordinary than we think.


Ya dig it ma homies? :-)

You can call me Christopher Columbus

Or Copernicus, Einstein, Archimedes, or Marie Curie.

While some discoveries make the news, change world history, or make a poor
student's life more difficult, I don't necessarily think those are always the more important ones.

A discovery is a reaction to opportunity seized and observed, in general. There are some we take note of, and others we miss. For example: what would have happened if a true Christian had seized the opportunity to get to know young Adolf, observed his need for Christ, and acted upon it?

Enough broad and general speculation. I have made discoveries recently, and while the rest of the world may not rank them among Einstein and Spielberg, I think they're quite significant.

Ever notice how when things are tight, you're under a lot of pressure, and you're simply trying to stay out of the way that you tend to have a burning desire for a glimpse of the big picture. You want to know why you're going through this particular situation. What gain is there going to be? Who else meets this desire, but Christ?

Yet when things are ok, and life is going great, you really live more for the moment, because the moment is good.

What if we treated the bad times as good too? The big picture should never be ignored, but I wonder sometimes, if we don't shut "the moment" out too much when we land in difficulty. It's so much easier to outsource a focus to something more positive than it is to stay and live in it. But I think God definitely called us to be thankful in all things; not "once you have the big picture, be thankful for it."

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

1 Thessalonians 5:18

Finally, I have discovered that I have a tibialis anterior...and I know how to use it.

Of Change and constancy

I took a walk down memory lane yesterday.

After working with Jonathan and Adam, Jonathan and I drove through Saginaw.

It's only been two and a half years since the move, but at first glance, it felt as if I'd never lived 16 years of my life there at all.

The local grocery store has been converted into a school "Development Center," there's a Recreational Facility in what used to be a field, the lone evergreen tree that anonymous personas would decorate for Christmas and Easter is no longer standing in that field, there's a large church in the pasture I used to do "trail rides" in, and there's a school, apartments, and housing developments along the road that used to be over-shadowed by tall, majestic, and beautiful trees.



First house on the right....

We drove by our house, and realized that much hadn't changed. Our trees were a bit bigger, but it looked as though we could still be living there.



Turn left by the green caboose...

The green caboose in the park is still the same, looking a bit older, perhaps, but still serving as a landmark to those who give directions the same way I do.

And the library. Because it was Easter weekend, they were closed, so I couldn't go in and look around...but judging from the limited view through the front doors, there had been some minor changes, but overall, nothing that would make me wonder if I were in the right place.

Heh. I even tried to pull out of the parking lot through the entrance in the face of the "DO NOT ENTER" signs. *sheepish grin*

Much like seeing old and dear friends after a long absence.

You never step in the same river twice

As we turned to go home, though, I was struck with the feeling that well, you never step in the same river twice, basically.

Things like that often seem the same, but there were definitely signs of age painted all over the old caboose, our old house was beginning to blend in with the houses that were thirty years old, and the new "development center", despite a new facing, used the old rock exterior on the store, and it gave it a strange old, yet new look.

I guess the idea is that the river might be in the same bed, but trying to find that same niche you once fit in is impossible.

And I just realized this sounds very sad and depressive, almost. Melancholic, at the very least.

Yet, I find a kind of comfort in knowing that there's no going back. It forces me to look ahead to the future.

My first pastor used to say that a farmer can't plow straight while looking back over his shoulder, and a driver can't stay on the road by looking in the rearview mirror. There's nothing to be done about the past; tis best to find the good, learn from the mistakes, and always press on.

I take heart from Paul. You know, it must have been a dizzying switch for him to at one moment be the most ardent persecutor of the church, and then in the next, to be standing in front of the Pharisees, condemned for the same crimes he had persecuted others for.

Yet, his attitude is one that I admire...he kept a forward focus, and never let his circumstances, or his past pull him down.

I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

My love

So while you're thinking, why don't you think me up a cup of coffe and one of those chocolate doughnuts with the little sprinkles on top!

That guy did a Peter Pan right here offa this dam!

-Are you oughta your mind? He's DEAD!
That ought to make him easier to catch.

-The guy is FISH FOOD...
Then you get a K-pole and catch me the fish that ate 'im!

I do love Tommy Lee Jones.

Story Time

Spring Break is way more exciting than I would have given it credit for. At least, the first day has been.

Now comes the time in which I must share the two really interesting stories that really have God stamped all over them.

(Because I like stories like that.)

Story 1

So last week, I decided that I really wanted some Converse All Stars. I'm the world's slowest when it comes to conforming to fashion trends. I'm partially cautious, and sometimes just simply unaware. At any rate, after three years of Converse being "in", I'd finally decided that not only did I think they were adorable, but that I'd like to have some. The local Rack Room Shoe store had them on sale, and there really wasn't much else to worry about. Ok, so there were a few things...

Stewardship and Converse?

When I buy clothes and such, I try to make sure that I spend my money wisely. This usually means establishing that there is a "need" for clothes/shoes/hats/scarves/etc, that it's a "deal", and that God will be glorified in through me wearing whatever.

Well, there really wasn't much of a need , for them...Except I didn't have any casually cute tennis shoes...I just had running shoes. Ok, I told myself quickly, that'll work.

Next? Oh yes, a "deal." Well, I try not to spend $30 on just one pair of shoes (yes, I shop at Wal-Mart and Payless *smile*) and when I do, they'd better be genuine leather, super comfortable, and professional. Converse are far from genuine leather and not necessarily comfortable. I was feeling guilty. Next criteria?

Hmm...that really gave me something to think about. Converse and God? Well, I'd wait til after church to decide since the store was on the way home.

Sort of. *insert sheepish grin*

Blessed is he that considereth the poor...

On Wednesday nights at church, now, we're starting to take up an offering for the poor fund. I usually try to contribute at least a dollar because I like to know that God can take my dollar, and someone else's dollar, and use the church to bless a family that needs it. I only had $32 in my purse, and w/out any form of ID (that's the next story), I couldn't write a check.

-Oh well. If I'm not meant to have the shoes, then I just won't worry about it.

After church, I went by Rack Room and found the Converse section with zero difficulty. About the time I walked into the store, a friend I hadn't talked to in a while gave me a call...we stayed on the phone while I walked up to the shoes, barely glanced at the price, tried some on, and decided that yes, I'd get them.

...the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble.

I said goodbye, and walked up to the register. The nice older man behind the counter smiled and rang up my purchase.

-Ma'am that'll be $32.64.

-Oh. I think I'm a dollar short. Let me get my change from the car.

-Oh no. Look, I've got a dollar right here.

He displayed six shiny quarters and a nickel.

Long and short...I got my shoes for $31...but I think it's neat that God put that man behind the counter who was willing to help out...more than that...to go the extra mile. That inspired me for the rest of the week, and now, when I look at those shoes that now sit proudly in my room, I remember how God pays attention to the details even when I don't.

Story 2

The second story is a tale of...well. Just wait til I tell you. mk?

We (we being myself, Paige, Bekah, Jonathan, and my mother), took a road trip up to the TN national open tournament in Jefferson City at Carson Newman College. It was a fabulous trip and awesome experience. But that's not what this story is about.

See, I didn't want to cary a purse around...but I was going to need my billfold for my DL and other such necessities. So, I took the BF, and left the purse.

I kept up with it (miraculously) throughout the trip up and the tournament. On the way home, we stopped at a rest stop off I40 to stretch our legs. I saw vending machines and thought "hmmm", grabbed my BF and headed out for an adventure. Without finding anything, though, we went back to the car pressed on.

Shortly after arriving home, I discovered my BF was missing. Thinking it was probably just in the car, I didn't panic.

The car left for OKC less than a day later. I didn't have a chance to look through it, but it did mean that I was without ID for the rest of the week. Frustrating, scary, and amusing.

When the car (and the fam) got back from OKC, we tore the van apart. Nothing.

Today, about thirty minutes before five, my cell phone rang. I looked at the number and was mystified...CA...but not Rachel. I answered and a male's voice began speaking:

-Hi Rachel? This is Kyle Green calling from PHC? I don't know if you remember me, but we did debate camp together I guess two years ago and debated in the same league for a little bit...

-Oh hey Kyle! Wow! Yes, I remember you...what's up?

-Well, have you travelled down I40 in TN recently?

I am thoroughly taken aback. First this guy I haven't talked to in two years calls my cell phone... now he's asking if I'd been down I40????

-Why, yes, I was there just last week.

To make a long story short, the only phone number in my billfold was the number on my PHC ID card. The lady in charge of the rest area called PHC and Kyle was working as the receptionist at the time...he recognized my name and you know? I still don't know how he got my cell number...

God is good, yes?



In the meantime

I am discovering the fun of html editing...

Now my only dilemma is in determining how on earth to insert an image into the background...hmmm...

I miss you

Mid-terms are over.

Ok, so all one of them. But who says that even one doesn't bring stress? Especially a PHC test. Any way you slice it, I'm happy it's over. Even happier that it means spring break. But alas. I'm also a working woman. So no real break for me.

Am I asking for sympathy? Not at all.

This will be my chance to leap ahead in con-law...to summarize cases to my heart's content with no worries for a solid week. Will I do it? Maybe.

All this, however, isn't really what I wanted to talk about.

This week has been interesting, as a whole. See, the last two weekends have been tournament weekends. We ran down to Houston two weeks ago for the state tournament, and then ran up to TN for the TN Open. Then the entire family jumped in the car again on Teusday for the National Homeschool Basketball touranment, leaving me to fend for myself.

Lessons learned?


-Don't forget to feed the fish.
-Listen to old sermons, music, movies, anything, to keep the quietness from being, well, haunting.
-Don't think too hard.
-Being by yourself for an extended period of time isn't so bad. In all honesty, I think it's all about the mind-set. If I'm totally focused on being all by myself, then it's downright depressing. But really, if you consider the things you can do (laundry, clean room, clean house, clean kitchen, gracious! just CLEAN) then it's not so bad.

-Also, don't leave your DL in the car that goes out of state.

Yes, it's true. I left my driver's license in the van. I hope. ^_^ I can't rent movies without it, can't write checks (unless you're in Aledo), your purse feels strangely pointless, and you wind up extremely uncomfortable while driving for obvious reasons.

Really, being alone isn't that bad. But I miss my family. Home is where the heart is, right?

Another winter's day has come and gone away,
In Paris and Rome... and I want to go home
and I’m surrounded by a million people
I still feel alone... I wanna go home
I miss you, you know