what i love about today

it snowed.
it's mom and dad's birthday.
i did laundry.
i talked to mom about debating and the class i'm teaching.
i talked to dad about the state of federal liberal politics and tax exemptions.
i talked to corina about food and happiness and how much i have sucked over the years.
i talked to james about long hours and augustine and not wanting to talk to him.
postsecret was updated.
my busdriver teased me.
i went to church.
we sang a round.
caleb and rochelle showed up.
i called someone darling by mistake. (*gotta* watch that!)
God lives in me.
i went home and stayed there.
jen had an important conversation.
i stopped counting.
i ate avocadoes.
i napped.
i finished my exodus readings.
ross ranked me first.
i smiled.
i wrote.
i loved.
today.

do they give awards for this?

i just used logarithms to try to determine how many israelites escaped during the exodus/how many kids people had back then. the problem is, you need to know one of those for sure to figure out the other.

anyway, math and bible do mix.

and mara is a geek.

to turn that into an update: mara is still a geek.

read my homework

I walked out of morning Eucharist once last semester. It was simply impossible to stay, feeling the way I was. Perhaps that was why there was something familiar about this last round of lectio divina: I really wanted to leave.

Just before I came into the prayer room to join my team, I had run to the Pygmy on a quick errand. There, I was confronted with someone's dissatisfaction about some work I had done. As I returned to that supposed sanctuary of silence and peace, the last thing I wanted to do was this assignment.

We chose Zephaniah 3:14-20, and Sarah read aloud. As I heard the call to worship, my thoughts were focused on giving up: "My best efforts at serving people fall short. What I give is never enough. I am tired of being taken for granted." Then I really heard the words being read: "Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands hang limp." The image may have had a number of different meanings to Zephaniah's audience, but to me it was a posture of resignation and defeat. And God was calling me away from it.

Because this passage had been used for Spiritual Emphasis Week earlier in the year, I had taken some time to read the whole chapter. I knew that Zephaniah was speaking about "one fine day" when God would set all things right. I wondered aloud, "Is that something that's only achieved in Heaven . . . or should we be looking for it now?" Is it reasonable to expect that I will be protected and loved and joy-filled in this lifetime? Because sometimes that intimacy with God eludes me and I stand, hands limp, and wonder what is next.

There is something so beautiful about a Father singing a lullaby over His baby daughter. It speaks of safety and belonging and cherishing. For me, it evoked yearning. I caught a glimpse, if only for a moment, of what it would be like to live out of confidence in God's love - undaunted by fear or worry, certain of His guidance, comforted by His presence. Sometimes, though, it feels like I am on my own - which, to continue with the infant imagery, leaves me wailing in my toothless, defenseless loneliness.

It is quite rare that I see myself as an abandoned child. Last Wednesday, though, Zephaniah's description of God's promises for the future spoke directly to the resignation and frustration I was feeling. What I still wonder is when those promises were intended to come to fruition and - because I avoid assuming the role of Israel in every verse I read - if they were even meant for us.

this time of year . . .

. . . means i don't have to wake up ridiculously early to see the most beautiful sunrises ever.
. . . means i'm actually earning grades instead of stressing out about deadlines.
. . . means i'm back at the gym.
. . . means it's a relief when i only have to wear a sweater.
. . . means blogging real stuff may be rare.

the hideous new girl

for longer than i can remember
i've been looking for someone like you
someone with a head like yours
and a torso, too
birds sing and you're going to pay
the end.
~tak's valentine for zim

thank you, tak, that was horrible
~ms. bitters' response

my tallest, a new child attacked me with meat. my conclusion: she's in love with me! this may prove valuable as i could use the child to learn more about human affffffection . . . which, from what i have been able to determine, is pain-based.
~zim reports in

dib: you're just jealous -
zim: this has nothing to do with jelly!

----

tak: the great thing about your people, dib, is that most of them don't notice. all they see is another faceless corporate venture, not a plan for world conquest.
dib: wait, is there really a difference?

----

good and . . .

gettin' better. if you can imagine!

BUT! i have that "i'm hungry and i've had too much caffeine today" feeling, which i have always imagined is what a hangover might be like.

but what do i know?

apart from that, perhaps you should know that i'm growing. i mean, because i'm telling you now. and, also, emily valentine was way over the line in the way she stalked brandon walsh. what was she thinking? and, also, the hangover isn't going away. four diet cokes, one london fog (soy, sugar-free), sushi, beef and green beans, and way too many almonds . . . quelle beast! (identify that reference and i'll give you a kiss. i promise!)

" 'i can do anything i damn well please.'
well, yes, i *can* do that . . . but then i have to call it sin."
~professor darlene hyatt (who has grown on me substantially since the first day of class and is so funny. i'm not yet sure if it's on purpose. the funny part, i mean.)

ache 2

less than necessary

what if i went to bed instead of blogging? would the world miss my words? no, you'd live on. i have faith in you. you don't need this post to make this moment new and beautiful. so, stop reading and go love someone.