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

Simple things...

Note to self: Never forget that just because the day starts out atrocious does not implicitly require the end thereof to be a disastor. In fact, it could be outright fun.


Work

Well, who wants to talk about work?
Not me. And not today.
Suffice it to say that it's FRIDAY.

"I never knew I had this many cuts! I should squeeze lemmons more often..."

Making dinner with friends is always something I've loved doing. I don't know what it is about two mostly grown up women in the kitchen making an appetizing dish themselves. I guess men play football, women go and make dinner.



-Was it a man? or a woman? -Well what else could the murderer have been? A kitten?


Pink Panther is a really cute movie. There was one scene in the entire movie that made me cringe. Just a little. The scene was funny...but got old in a hurry. This movie includes the best blends of corny humor, random stereotypes, and some fantastic surpriseds.
So 3 stars out of 5.




Eureka!

Classics are timeless. And that should be the understatement of the year. For I have brilliantly stumbled across my new favorite drink at Starbuck's. Goodbye Mint Mocha. So long Brownie Frapaccino! Arreverderci Cinammon Dolce Latte!












The Steamed Caramel Apple Cider with whip cream is my new favorite.

I will drink it in a house, with a mouse. In a box, with a fox. On a train in the rain! I will drink it here or there, I will drink it ANYWHERE!
















See? It's the simple things. Stuff I don't even normally give a second thought to that really make life worthwhile and memorable.

My Greatest Struggle: His Greatest Triumph

The wind howls around the windows outside my room. Windy nights always make for the most contemplative. (And of course, days of eighty degrees followed by days of ice and snow are always odd ones too...)

And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. - Luke9:23

This was the basis for the message on Wednesday night. I can remember only one other time within the last year that I made some decisions that were this major.

As with most sermons, I listened with the expectation of hearing from God. It's never difficult to find application to my life even if I don't particularly want to. (Yes, I can be quite contrary at times.) When Preacher started talking about this verse, though, I knew I was going to hear something important. He started out talking about the hymn "Wherever He Leads, I'll Go."

Oh the story behind it is neat, but the funny thing? I really can't remember much of the introductory portion of the message. When he introduced this verse, though, it was time.

Preacher reminded us that a cross didn't just mean an undesirable task, or an uncomfortable position. No. A cross meant death.

Re-examining the verse with that in mind...wow.

God's nudged me slowly, but surely in the direction He wants me to go in. As the years have gone by, God has asked me for more and more territory in my heart. Sometimes, that territory is given without a thought. Some things, like debate, college, love...those were progressively more difficult. Even now, I have to continuously remind myself that each of those areas are firmly in God's hands and that I wouldn't have it any other way.

Last night, though, He asked me for a bit more than the extras in life (debate, college or love).

It will take some work, but I think I'm finally ready. I'm not entirely sure what all it's going to entail, so this, like many of my other adventures, will be a hike into the great unknown with my Abba Father.

I'm doomed to fail in my own strength; in fact, I admit that I've already failed many times today. But if I confess my sins, He is faithful and just...

So the point of it all? I've never actually conscientiously tried to live each and every day unto the Lord. To die to self so completely that all that is left to see, is Him. It's something I've always wished for, or would see in others and think "Wow, that's so neat. One day, I'll be like that."

I know that's a goal even the Apostle Paul only tried to accomplish. But I think my largest struggle, will not be over things like money or education or even an earthly relationship. My biggest struggle will be to voluntarily lie on a cross daily.

Even now, I'm half-wishing I hadn't said I'd try. But I've got as much time as He gives me and my God is so faithful!

I am confident that even though I fail a thousand times, He will yet lift me up a thousand and one times more if only to show Himself strong.

Because in my weakness, He is strong.

In my death, He lives.

The Discarded Image

Disclaimer: Lest you should think this is to be a discourse on CS Lewis, you are free to lay those fears (or anticipations!) to rest.

Someone once said that "we don't see things as they are, we see them as we are."

In church right now, our primary object of study in Sunday school over the next few weeks is the attributes of God. It's been an interesting study, but something struck me the other day that really tied in with a lot of different changes in my life.

Last Sunday's lesson was over change. God, is as a matter of course, unchangeable. Immutable. He has to be, right? Of course, and at that point, I immediately reached back into childhood and pulled out the verse "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever."

So where's the big deal?

I think my mind must have wandered during the lesson just a wee bit. Even so, it felt as though God brought several little things to mind that all culminated into one solid thought: I am only as solid as my God is.

Anyone who dares say that God is not logical has another thing coming.

The process He took me through, though, was intriguing.

First, He reminded me of how active I am; both on the job and at home and everywhere in between. I never really know what to expect from day to day and things go so fast...in fact, if anyone can tell me what happened to last fall, I'd be greatly appreciative.

In a world that involves constant change as part of its very nature, it's easy to get caught up and behind in the day-to-day whirlwind that envelopes so much of what I do. But my train of thought was picking up speed and moving on. I'm not sure why the next verse came to mind, but Romans 12:2 was apparently the next scheduled stop:

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.

Skeptically, I remember thinking that this has got to be one of the most impractical commands in Scripture. Sure, it's acceptable when referring to things like retaining modesty and purity, but I'm just as busy as the rest of the world. There's a way to get around that? Right.

Well, physically busy, but who says you can't be at rest and busy at the same time? Whoops... here comes Scripture again:

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee. Trust ye in the Lord for ever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength...

-Isaiah 26: 3-4

When my mind is on God, or when I am focused, wait...geometry... focused = centered! So when I am centered on God, I have perfect peace.

What I realized was that it's the very fact that God does not change that gives me the capability to remain rested, alert, and focused in a world full of chaos and constant change.

The key, though, is the word focused.

On Valentine's Day, all the world loves a lover. But for me, this Valentine's is a bit different.

Rather than being so focused on who I am and who is not with me on a day where a dozen roses are to be had at any gas station and chocolates come in all shapes and sizes, I realize that in His infinite loving-kindness, God has provided me with yet another day to say with a smile that life is beautiful.
To be focused on God is to be unchanged and unrattled by the changes that take place around you.

A discarded image? Oh definitely.

My image of Valentine's Day, I think, has been completely discarded.

You see, when I view the world through the eyes of God, my whole perception changes.

So rather than seeing life as a continuous stream of tasks to be completed, projects to be started, or emotions to be ignored, I see that God is always on time, all things are done unto the Lord, and that God "works all things for the good of them that love Him and are called according to his purpose."

And now, the voices of court cases to be summarized are becoming insistent, so I shall return to my small little bubble known as "Con-Law."

Happy Valentine's Day!

Pressing On

As I sit in front of a blazing fireplace (but not too close!) with my pineapple-upside-down cake, milk, and con-law materials, I'm struck with how simply complicated life can be.

The scene around me is perfectly simplistic and I am quite contented.
In fact, life in general has me completely happy. I guess what becomes complicated is maintaining the status quo. The next day is never something to fear, but there are always the insignificant details that somehow make me wish I could always just live in the moment that has me the most contented.

As I was running today, though, I realized that if you don't keep moving, (especially when you're as out of shape as I am), you loose your nerve to press on. A stationary position is ok for a minute or two, but after a while, well, there's nothing that frustrates me more than an unchanging atmosphere.

In short?

I like the way Paul said it:

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

Time is an illusion...

I'm afraid that life is simply too time-consuming. Lately, it's gotten to feel as though busy-ness is about the only real quality I can truly call my own.

I haven't had a free weekend in who knows when, and in the five-six hours between the time I get home from work and the time I go to bed, there's always SOMETHING of a high priority nature that demands my attention for an altogether too lengthy period of time. Everything blurs together in such a way that when you look back, the only clear recollection you have is of being "on the way" to the next thing for which you are already a few minutes late.

All in all, it's just plain tiring.

About every two weeks or so (sometimes less frequently, depending on when I pause briefly for a breath) I wind up asking myself what has to be the world's most popular question: "Why?"

With everything in the world to spend time on (heh, even idiots have no excuse!), how does one keep from going absolutely crazy? Or at least have time to pause for something like a nap? sun-set?


Honestly though, I think our time is spent where our priorities lie.

For what other reason would you want to be exhuasted? Knowing that your time is spent doing what you have decided is something you enjoy doing or need to do, what could be more satisfactory?

And with that, I'll conclude this rather time-consuming post and look for something else to consume my time.

Random treasured thoughts...

The air is always so full of life just after a rain. Especially when you get the musky tree smell coupled with a nearby body of water.

That combination always reminds me of the smell of wet pine trees in the morning, which in turn reminds me of my grandparents house of yore in Northern LA.

Wherever it is that I eventually settle down at, I want to have pine trees so my children can grow up with that smell and know what it's like to fight with pine cones and make beds out of pine needles.

Short, sweet and to the point

My attempts at making coffee this morning went off without a hitch and for that, I was extremely grateful.


For some reason or another, I was completely unable to sleep until about 3:30 in the morning.

*insert appropriate grimaces coupled with expressions of shock and sympathy*



Thus you will all understand my reason for keeping this like my attempt at coffee:

Small in quantity, large on feeling, and oh so mediocre on sweetness.



I just wanted the world to know that I can make coffee.

Not-so-awake-but-close-enough thoughts

I realize it's been a while since I've posted at my really old blog. A long while, actually.

I started that one to have a place to vent thoughts on, well, politics. But since I took off from school in late May of last year, well, see for yourself. There's simply not a lot there.

I should be crawling out of the woodwork soon, though, as I become more politically knowledgable. Lately, I've been blissfully non-opinonated in my thoughts as only a very small portion of them are ever dedicated to politics or current events in general. I guess I should clarify that by putting "current events" in bold or something.

I recently shocked someone by telling them the history of church services in our nation's capitol. Yes, that's right. I meant to say "in."

And I, just as recently, shocked someone else by thinking that Ariel Sharon was dead.


At any rate, the thoughts labeled "current events" have been lately growing in number and increasing in frequency of appearance.

Why the change? I'm starting school again.

That's right. Rachel's back in PHC DL courses...look out world.

At any rate, until my political consciouness is fully aroused, know that coffee is fully functional at whatever temperature.

That's right.

- When coffee is piping hot, it keeps you awake.

- When it's just right, it still keeps you awake

- When it feels like you've just downed an brownish iceberg, it will still keep you awake.

Hence, coffee is one of the few things I can think of in this thought-repressed moment that fulfills its function no matter its temperature.

Finally, French Vanilla Creamer will cover a multitude of sins. And lack of sugar.

That is all.

I'm leaving on a jet plane...

Well, today is the day.

Am I nervous? Sure. But strangely enough, I don’t feel as much trepidation as I did a week ago.


Peace? Oh Definitely.


I think, however, I should be a good deal more nervous.

After all, I’m teaching kids I’ve never met before, in a home I’ve never been to before, with surroundings I know absolutely nothing about, for a speech teacher I’ve only talked to twice.

Of course, I’m sure it will all hit me at exactly 11:15 AM tomorrow morning and I will likely get the feeling that I just broke to finals with no case, no evidence, and no make-up.
(and who hasn’t heard the latter half of that story before?)

All in all, though, I’m really excited. When I first started debating in ’03, I remember hitting the end of my rope in mid-September in my mad search for a debate club and placing a desperate call to the ever-patient Heather. When she got back with me, she said that she’d been in touch with everyone she could think of who would know, and all she could say was that while I lived in the heart of one of the most home-school populous states in the US, debate clubs were a rarity. In fact, Arkansas and New Mexico were the only states in our region that had a state contact.

(Of course, debate has absolutely blossomed in Texas over the past three years. Between the amazing Butlers of Corpus Christi, the awesome Watsons of North Ft. Worth, the quite factual Larimers of Houston, the enthusiastic Umstadtts of Austin, the ever-constitutional Millers of Decatur, and myself in West Ft. Worth/Weatherford, we’ve managed to pull together 40 some odd teams for the last state tournament in 2005; quite a jump from the brave 16 teams at my first state tournament.)

So when I got into my second year of coaching and my first year of debate involvement without competing, my vision has been to see debate expand to those states that don’t currently have it.

While I don’t see debate as “perfect” or an activity that is for everyone, I think it’s a fantastic adventure for anyone who has a love of politics, law, and/or public speaking. I found out about debate for the first time at the beginning of my official senior year and decided to be a “super senior” just so I could debate one more year. Over the years, I have found that my story is a common one. My desire is to see that story become a rarity.

In other words, if you’re not a debater, it’s not because you haven’t heard about it. ;-)

So this is why I think it’s so neat that I get to go to OK. I hope that by this time next year, we’ll see OK teams at the regional tournaments and maybe OK will have a regional tournament of their own.

But at the same time, I remember that I’m only planting a seed and that the seed is extremely small. The primary thing, then, I want the students to walk away with is a new perspective of communication.

Debate, to me, was a continuous exercise in I Corinthians 13:1. It’s one thing to give a speech in public. It’s quite another to debate an issue in public without that issue causing tension between the two. (or four ;-) ) They may have already had this experience, but I hope this will stick with the ones who haven’t.

Aim small, miss small; right?

All's Well that Ends Well

So as I sat in the store-front window of Starbuck's, tonight, and watched people as they passed by, I realized that somehow, somewhere, I had to have missed something crucial.

I looked down at my then luke-warm chow mein, slowly poked at it with my chop-sticks, and muttered something slightly unintelligible. The boys behind me continued talking about the wimpishness of the Vanilla Creme whatever and were oblivious to the truth that was slowly breaking its way through the iciness of my heart. The occasional sound of the blender in the back-ground only added a certain flavor of irony to my current state of mind.

There must be something amazing about the combination of Chick-Fil-A lemonade and Suki Hana chow mein, fried rice, and some kind of "cheekeen" that just makes everything click when mixed with the soothing atmosphere of Starbuck's.

See, everyone else, as they walked in and out, had car keys hanging out of their purse, out of their pockets, off of belt-loops, or simply held lovingly and securely in their hand.

With a sigh of frustration, I gave up with the chopsticks and borrowed a fork from the always understanding staff at Starbuck's. Close to tears now, I mentally retraced my steps for the hundreth time, from the point in eternity that I entered Dillard's, to the current moment.

How I managed to leave my beloved keys behind when everyone else was so attached to theirs is simply beyond me.

Adorned with the bright orange rectangular sign attached to a chain proclaiming boldly to the world "KEYS I HAVEN'T LOST YET" and the Navy Duck, "Harry", with the mocking smile across his bill, their absense made an immense hole in my consciousness.

I felt betrayed, alone, and forgotten.

I don't know how long I sat there, wallowing in self-pity, wondering if I would ever see my keys again. But it seemed an eternity. Then he was there. Dad bravely came to my rescue and sat with me in Starbuck's with only a mere ghost of a smile on his face. I was so happy to see him, though, and I didn't say too much of anything important.

After taking a call from a debate student, we eventually got up and left. Physically, this time, we retraced my steps back to Dillard's and took one last look at the socks. I had given up completely on ever seeing them again.

Dad carefully examined the socks, picking through each one with laser-beam vision. He walked around the stand and carefully picked up two socks as I turned to walk away.

Then, I stopped. I heard the familar clatter of plastic and steele.

I turned, with a wide grin on my face and a slight tremor of voice: "YOU FOUND THEM!!"


All's well that ends well.