i am. thirty.

i was born.
a girl.
a daughter.
a granddaughter.
a niece.
a sister.

i started becoming.
a reader.
a rememberer.
an immigrant.
an advocate.
a friend.

some things you made me.
a sister-in-law.
an auntie-to-be.
a girlfriend.
a forgiver.
a better friend.

some things i made myself.
a researcher.
a writer.
a leader.
a follower.
my own friend.

some things i am still becoming.
a law student.
a cook and baker.
a discerner.
a jogger.
a listener.

some things i dream of yet becoming.
a defender.
a treeclimber.
a runner.
a mother.
a whole.

i am thirty.
and i'm becoming more.

"we will have these moments to remember..."

the choosy warrior

i recently abandoned an on-line forum that i'd been a part of, on-and-off, for about four years. it wasn't easy to walk away, but it's been a long time coming, mostly because the atmosphere was very divisive and toxic. the political landscape in the united states is such that some americans seem to be willing to consider any tactic that might undermine their opponents. they're also quite reluctant to concede any ground to said opponents.

that's not the kind of "discussion" i'm interested in. i'm also not into being bulldozed over and interrupted whenever i try to make a point. and, finally, i've been tapping into some newfound maturity on the matter: recognizing that in some cases my contribution is either redundant or unlikely to be fruitful... and then choosing not to make that contribution.

i've also become more aware that, when it comes to real debate, i'm often most critical of people with whom i generally agree, but who are making particularly awful arguments at the moment. this is because i think they're making my fight harder by misrepresenting me and my cause. when a feminist is anti-science or a skeptic offers a facile critique of religion or a liberal calls conservatives "the reich wing," i want to puke and rebuke. i hate misogyny and blind religion and conservative rhetoric, but it doesn't burn the way bad feminism or bad skepticism or bad liberalism can.

anyway, all that to say, i'm working on being better at picking my battles. as always, thanks for listening.

p.s. here's a snippet from a recent discussion about progressive enlightenment: if a misogynistic, racist, homophobic, classist idiot stops being classist, that's a step in the right direction.

picture this

2009...

it was to be a year of weddings, renewed friendships, goodbyes, and hellos...

cori got married and we danced.

i finished my course work and carried an orange balloon.

i turned 28 and made an awesome cake.

i went to the bahamas and studied for the lsat.

i went to collingwood and played on the swings with nancy and pat.

i said goodbye to cori and made her a cake.

mon got married and we danced.

i got my lsat score and nearly wept with joy.

i went all out for hallowe'en but no one else did!

while on a research trip, i commemorated the 20th anniversary of the fall of the berlin wall.

i celebrated the holidays with more "family" than ever before - friends so close they're family, my little sister's in-laws, distant cousins in london, my little sister, her husband, and my parents. and i missed my older sister and her fiance.

there was a lot more in there... new ideas, new areas of research, major life decisions (like applying to law school), terrible disappointments (the detainee allegations and the recent proroguing of parliament rank high, but there were personal ones, too). but there was growth. and there were good tears.

not bad for a year's work. on to the next!

w is for wedding!

corina and james are married! and dov knows how to look like a very creepy passer-by:)

but, seriously: though there were some delays and surprises - broken furnace, broken necklace, iron barfed rusty water on dov's shirt, spa morning took an hour longer than anticipated and involved a minor scolding from the hairdresser - the bride's side eventually made it to the u of t campus to take photos on the west side of university college.

the groom's family were patiently waiting with smiles and corina's bouquet, having already completed the requisite combinatorics exercise and taken all of their photos.



james' dad held coats while we tried out all the possible combos:

- cori & james
- cori & james & cori's parents, cori & james & james' parents
- cori & james & cori's family, cori & james & james' family
- cori & parents, corina & siblings, corina & siblings & dov
- cori's family, cori's family & dov
- all the siblings, siblings & significant others
- both families, both families & significant others, both families & significant others & james' friends

despite the sunshine, it was pretty cold out there and whenever we weren't on-camera we huddled for warmth!

right, so off to city hall!

there was a bit of a wait there, but soon it was our turn to fill up the little wedding chamber. cori and james glowed, the tissues ran out, the justice of the peace spoke beautifully, we got ink on our fingers, and ioana and dov passed around truffles once the pronouncement of husband and wife was made.

i really appreciated that there was no hint that this was simply one of a thousand weddings the justice had performed in his career. he made their moment significant, and it really felt like he valued the role he played.

but enough reflection... dinner time! off to the courtyard restaurant in yorkville!

the food was yummy, but i have no pictures of it! gulash, spinach crespelle, and apple strudel were my choices, while others enjoyed combinations of spinach salad, salmon, chicken snitzel, and some chocolate crepe dessert. not all on one plate.

soon after the moldovian musicians showed up, my mom and ana grabbed the mic and sang. while unplanned (by the rest of us), this definitely broke the ice! in fact, it wasn't long before the wait staff pulled the carpets away to make room for dancing! (pictured here) romanian, italian, cuban, and other sweet tunes led the feet of bride, groom, family, and friends. oh, and yes: i did request "hava nagila."



there had been sufficient wine served to ensure touching speechs (i cried through the end of mine), and we topped it all of with champagne, chocolate-hazelnut cake, and a little more dancing.

one of the things i mentioned in my speech was that, standing beside cori as she recited her vows, it occured to me how many of those promises she and james have already been keeping for three and a half years. the wedding shouldn't really be a beginning... it should be a celebration of what already is, and what is to come.

f is for fear less

when i sit down to write a position paper, i want to produce something airtight. but when it comes to situating my discipline (history) within the broader context of theological interpretation, the answers aren't entirely clear to me yet. what is emerging from the haze, as my eyes struggle to focus, is the fact that what i really love doing is comparing conviction with action. i love studying political philosophies/theologies and then finding out how - if? - they were practiced, on the ground. even though i'm pretty tied up in ideas, history is a good place to ask those kinds of questions. and it keeps me rooted in the real world, rather than the abstract.

the anthropocentrism implicit in (my approach to) historical interpretation would probably bother some of my colleagues. (as would several of my other views.) but i like it because to me it feels hopeful, rather than arrogant. if the goal of the historian is to further human understanding of history (a phrase i adapted from william p. thurston's brilliant piece about mathematics), then this isn't about finding a corner office in the ivory tower. (dude, like, the oooonly good ivory tower ever is the one in neverending story.) and my academic pursuits anticipate the future, rather than being wedded to the past.

this assignment forced me to take a step back and consider what i'm doing. thinking big picture is wonderful, even if (because?) it's terrifying. throughout my life, i've been so lucky to have people in my life who demanded that i do something i was too afraid to do on my own. they've invited me into crazy adventures - and not just stupid drama - often without even knowing it. they asked more of me than i knew how to give, and in so doing helped me to live, rather than merely daydream or, to put it a better way - the way bastian did, as a matter of fact: "i will! i will do it! i will do what i dream!"

i know i'll never be fearless. but, big picture: i can fear less.

together

"... most mathematicians don't like to be lonely, and they have trouble staying excited about a subject, even if they are personally making progress, unless they have colleagues who share their excitement."

~william p. thurston

no play-by-play

but here are some highlights from my recent trip to italy and romania:
- spent three five-hour chunks walking around rome
- lived with a l'arche community in nearby ciampino: ate, danced, and played
- sampled good eats (see this album)
- finished reading "how proust can change your life"
- pondered religious art, tourism, beauty, and democracy
- thought a lot about expectations and disappointment, particularly with reference to caravaggio
- stood in the same room as a two works by caravaggio and didn't pass out
- reignited friendships with jann arden, miranda stone, and great big sea... all canadian artists!
- was so very grateful i'd taken french in school
- discussed mysticism on the spanish steps (and made a guy nearly swoon by vaguely knowing who urs von balthazar is... thanks, steve!)
- tried buffallo mozzarella which - it had never occurred to me before! - comes from buffallo milk
- benefitted from the kindness of strangers on countless occasions
- discovered just how lacy the italian coast is - it's a mess of curves!
- got sunburned
- got caked with sea salt, straight out of the sea
- pilgrimaged back to bucharest
- reunited with old friends
- danced with dad... and contemplated dance lessons
- laughed so, so, so much
- renewed my appreciation for a room with four walls and a door!
- started reading just war theory stuff
- travelled by plane, train, metro, busses of different lengths and heights, cars and vans, motor boat, skybridge, funicular, teleferique, airport shuttle, teeny elevator, and foot... sadly, no scooters this time
- can't wait to go back

see also this, this, this, and that.

travelling tips:
- have a plan
- be ready to abandon it
- consider wearing a wedding ring
- don't try too hard to understand popular tourism... it makes no sense.
- cobblestone is slippery when wet
- talk to strangers
- watch out for little dogs or you might kick them by mistake
- don't let cab drivers treat you like crap
- take the time to sit and listen
- sunrise/sunset are wonderful times of day. make a point of noticing.
- having a dog escort home at midnight is more amusing than confidence-inspiring, but it's still way better than nothing
- know enough of the language to be able to tell people you can't speak it
- spend more time experiencing than you do recording experiences

joy!

"it's not a party if it happens every night"
beg your pardon, postal service, but recent experience suggests the reverse.

things i'm celebrating:

a) getting a degree. because it's cool, but also because i finally really finished something. aces.
b) getting into grad school. because i can start making decisions and new mistakes.
c) spring. because it's warm(er). and rain, green, and flowers are good. and sun, too. sun is good.
d) going for walks with nancy, pat, kevin, and mike... going to tim hortons and listening to music and swinging and greeting strangers with them. 'cause wow.
e) staying in touch. it rocks my little world.
f) sushi and cake. four days in a row!!! (pretty sure the streak ends tomorrow)
g) getting through a mother's day without bad tears!!!! potentially the first time ever.
h) vegetables. i like them. i always have. which brings me to...
i) my parents, for better and for worse.
j) matcha. 'cause yum.
k) closure. because freedom is sweet.
l) is for the way you look at me... i mean... no that works, too. i'm celebrating unspoken things.
m) purple (toe)nail polish. do i even have to explain?
n) mangos and avocadoes. see above.
o) is for the only one i see... finding God in the midst of bewilderment and hurt and beauty.
p) touch. (angie! i miss you!!!)
q) poetry. in motion or standing still.
r) time set aside for people i care about.
s) the chance to go back to romania in two months. and to hit italy on the way.
t) rivers, oceans, lakes, and water in general.
u) nostalgia-inducing music. particularly oasis, rick astley, cranberries, and counting crows.
v) the human body, which is among the most beautiful things i've ever seen.
w) growth. my hair and my heart and my to-read list.
x) new things i'm going to see and hear and learn tomorrow.
y) because we like you.
z) sleep :-)

this one is dedicated to them heartbroken lovers...

blue lagoon supplies one of my favourite workout songs: "break my stride." its steady and energetic beat encourages me to, um, maintain my stride.

aside from that, the song is your basic "you done me wrong and now i'm pretending my bitterness is resolve" schpiel. there was a time when it made quite a bit of sense to me. that is, i was quickly able to list the number of goals i hadn't met because i let other concerns sap my energy and focus. and i'd listen to this song, not in anger against those things - no one but me has control over what i pour myself into - but in hope that i'd love my goal enough to maintain my stride.

but before i make this my new take on life, i look at Jesus. you know, just to check. and there's lots of support in his example and teaching. luke 9, for example: "Jesus resolutely set out for jerusalem" and then told potential followers that "no one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God." no turning back, no turning back. eyes on the prize and all that.

so what did Jesus' straight-as-an-arrow path look like?
- teaching about sharing His message, neighbourly love, contemplation, prayer, shining, woe to the religious leaders, hardship and persecution, worry, wealth, repentance, radical generosity, heaven, celebration, forgiveness, reunion, the cost of following, reversal of poverty, and His impending death
- performing exorcisms, healings (four events, two of which were on the day of rest)
- crying over Jerusalem
- counselling humility, persistence, childlikeness, and poverty before God
- making friends with tax collectors
- visiting his friends
- praying alone and in groups

and then He entered jerusalem on a donkey and the passion plays take over. you probably skipped that list but here's the point:

there are so many times that He's on His way from point a to point b and someone interrupts: a woman touches Him, a blind man calls out. you know how Jesus responds? "ain't nothing gonna break my stride?" iiiiiiii don't think so! no, He lets the needs of others determine His agenda, trusting that genuine love cannot interfere with the ultimate goal.

my stride can be resolute while still being open to others. or, anyway, Jesus' was. and i'm of the mind that God's got the same thing in mind for me.

and another thing... do you think Jesus really cared if people "walked all over" Him? do you think He worried about boundaries and enabling? i wonder...


ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
nobody's gonna slow me down
oh no, i've got to keep on movin'

ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
i'm running and i won't touch ground
oh no, i've got to keep on movin'

watch the music video!

in love

when you love, say not that God is in your heart
say rather that you are in the heart of God

part i: odd

ross' gift: the trophy, the note, and the necklace.
finishing my paper.
scrabulating with dave.
a pig and a phone call from michelle.
listening to "did galileo pray?"
finding words to pray.
laughing at myself.
making a card with pat.

i started this day feeling so weird. once the tired faded, i still couldn't place the strangeness within. i went about my business, administering meds, drinking my shake, looking at the paper... and then it suddenly occurred to me: i think i'm happy.

it's happened again since. and jiminy finally synchronized himself to me and hummed vivaldi's spring (allegro) in my ears. and it was just right.

part ii: i don't know what kind of girl i am

lying on the couch, so tired that my eyes hurt. bringing my sore lids together... and in the darkness hearing pat butter her toast. what a lovely sound: a knife scraping against crisp bread. somehow beautiful.

parting from cori and james with "juno" in my mind, damp cheeks, and a full heart. knowing the blanket i'm making will keep them warm.

part iii: awed

watching the candidates' debates and realizing that the things people care about are simple: making ends meet, taking care of their children, good roads, good food, and the freedom to choose their path. in the course of looking out for all that, our government has to think about the implications of bhutto's assassination, the development of alternative fuels, and the fate of every worker in china.

and God's like that, too: the things i care about are small and important. it is for Him to reflect on the enormous and important. the two are not as discreet as all that, though. they're deeply connected, which is why God invites to me to gaze beyond my own needs, into eternity. giving someone a cup of water has something to do with scores of angels reciting the triagion in united worship.

all that I promise is strength for this day,
rest for my worker
light on your way
I give you truth when you need it,
My help from above
undying friendship, My unfailing love

picking out which prayers to use tonight, i quickly chose the ones to be prayed before reading scripture and before sleep, but hesitated over the one to be prayed after work. "did i work today?" i asked myself. somehow that question feels like a very good sign.

like, somehow, rest and contentment can be found in the midst of much responsibility. wait, not just "can be found"; are found, even by me! seriously!

pick a road, decide
[are you] a plane or a train or a bride?
decide, decide...
Your love makes me move at the speed of trees...

i'm so in love.

when you love, say not that God is in your heart
say rather that you are in the heart of God

eleven minutes with antonio

my ipod can usually figure out what i need to hear. i hit shuffle and it takes over. this morning we had to work together... neither of us knew what fit. finally, the second movement of vivaldi's spring (largo) accompanied the lyrics playing out around and inside me as i sat in queen's park. 11:33 of beauty.

the green paint of the picnic table peels away to let me read the carved initials. there's a spray-painted stenciled prayer: "love and wisdom to you." i echo the request and take my seat. joggers and busses and traffic and a man sitting on a bench 50 meters away, rocking. the dark tree trunks speak of a depth and richness i long for. so real, so concrete. their limbs spread overhead, a symphony of green. peaking through, a sky that glows with blue and white. so good. so very, very good.

vivaldi didn't include wind rushing through drying leaves in his orchestration, to say nothing of the rumble of the subway underfoot. i'm not sure he'd object, though. do the vibrations of the subway affect the trees here, i wonder? every three minutes or so, the roots dance, for better or for worse. are they stronger for it? or do they long for stability and stillness?

strange how a piece about spring fits so well with fall... especially on a university campus. fresh starts: new friends, new lessons, potential that just makes you ache. i think about how i love the smell of autumn, but realize it's the smell of decay. "but," i reflect, "it's death that paves the way for new life." maybe Christian spirituality is about choosing that death over the other kind - the kind that sticks.

do i use the word "beauty" too often? should i guard it so it becomes more sacred, more meaningful? thing is, i don't want to fail to recognize that which *is* truly beautiful... what if God is in the ordinary and life is beautiful and i love being soaked by rain and having the wind play with my skirt and imagining that i am not alone, after all? what if "sacred" doesn't mean "rare"?

i think about what i'm thinking about. how i'd write it. are we really who we are when we write? why am i not like this when i order my london fog or shop for shoes or run for the bus?

sigh.

i let my hair fall on my shoulders and watch and listen and rumble with the subway. i wrestle with impatience. i wonder if there will be a time in my life when this is a priority: when sitting and being (except without thinking so much about it) will come naturally and frequently. when i'll have someone to sit beside. but no talking. just being.

i've only ever shared a moment like that with one person. under a full, smokey moon, we stood, humbled and silent. maybe sharing wonder is the height of intimacy. not talking about it later, like i do here, but living it, together.

wonder six

i couldn't figure out what we were reading. the more i tried to grasp at details, the more they slipped away. all i remember clearly is that i raised my hand and reflected: "wisdom seems to be about unity, more than anything else. that's counterintuitive, because my view of a sage isn't that far from my view of a hermit. more than that, i feel like wisdom alienates you from society: you end up weeping in a dark corner by yourself. but this text suggests that wisdom draws us into community and communion with others."

wisdom is an enigma to me. maybe that's why i dream about it. i took a course on psalms & wisdom once, and we talked about hokmah and its definition... but that seems to fall short now. in "blue like jazz" don miller describes a moment when it felt like something true and beautiful had hit the table with a thud. that's what wisdom feels like to me. and, even though i have no clue where this idea came from, i'm beginning to see that my thirst for wisdom should lead me into community, into conversation with the world around me. here's some of what i'm hearing:

i went down to frwy to have a hummus sandwich, drink tea, and work on my senior paper. a few hours later, a vocal coach and four of her students had a concert on the little platform of the coffee house. one of the vocalists was retired; she'd dreamed of being a singer for years and years, and was finally in a position to follow her dream. she was a charming lady - forgetting the lyrics here and there - and she sang a song that has always brought tears to my eyes.

"what good is sitting alone in your room? come hear the music play..."

i watched this woman who had deferred her dream for so long... she was glowing. and it was like one day she had finally found the courage to be who she had always wanted to be.

when brian melo was reflecting on being in the final two in this year's canadian idol competition, he said, "this is something i've been dreaming about since i was a kid. the fact that it's happening makes me think that my heart wasn't lying to me."

my heart wasn't lying to me.

some things just feel right. and it's like your whole self is on board: you aren't constantly plagued by doubts, there are no dead butterflies in your tummy. it's born of a real desire for goodness and beauty and celebration and self-sacrifice. you know your conscience is clear, your motives are pure. it's not about selfish ambition or shallow achievement. the difficulties that come your way are real, and painful, but they pale in comparison with the prize. it feels like if you don't pursue this vocation, this skill, this virtue, this relationship, this work of art, this mountain, this truth, with all you have, you'll just dissolve into nothingness. it feels like this is what you're meant for.

may we all discover that, in those times, our hearts aren't lying to us.

there are endless stories about finding your voice... and with it the courage to let your voice ring out in joy, in mourning, in doubt, in trust, in truth. let's search together.

it's never too late to become what you might have been.
~ tag-line for "away from her"

o me! o life!... of the questions of these recurring;
of the endless trains of the faithless - of cities fill'd with the foolish;
of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than i, and who more faithless?)
of eyes that vainly crave the light - of the objects mean - of the struggle ever renew'd;
of the poor results of all - of the plodding and sordid crowds i see around me;
of the empty and useless years of the rest - with the rest me intertwined;
the question, o me! so sad, recurring - what good amid these, o me, o life?

answer.
that you are here - that life exists, and identity;
that the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
~ walt whitman

what good is sittin' alone in your room?
oh, come hear the music play,
life is a cabaret, old chum,
come to the cabaret!
put down that knittin',
the book,
and the broom,
it's time for a holiday!
life is a cabaret, old chum,
so come to the cabaret!
~ "cabaret"

it's not a burden

i don't know what you need to do to get ready for this, but brace yourself and then watch bono accept his award from the naacp. the last two minutes are particularly powerful.

then, maybe, do something.

nouwen speaks

the inner voice of love: a journey through anguish to freedom is a collection of spiritual imperatives that came to henri nouwen during a time of profound darkness. a taste:

"never allow yourself to become public property, where anyone can walk in and out at will."

idolatrous me

moses must have been furious when he saw his brother leading israel in worshipping the golden calf. all the people had heard Yahweh demand that they worship no idols; neither they, nor aaron, had any excuse, yet no one accepted responsibility. moses would have been justified in accepting God's offer: he could replace abraham, start anew, and lead a people who were serious about being faithful to Yahweh. maybe it's our western individualism that compels us to strike out on our own each time we discover sin or diversity or blemishes. the source of the attitude does not matter so much to me; what does matter is moses' response to that offer: he politely declined. moreover, moses chose to passionately intercede for his people. he fought for the foolish, sinful, murmuring, chosen people.

this is not about ignoring real concerns. after all, moses rebuked the israelites harshly. yet his anger over their sin was not founded in self-righteousness. rather, it reflected a profound understanding of what sin accomplished: it divided israel from God, who was deeply offended by their false worship. moses' anger sprang out of his own love for Yahweh, and for the chosen people. when i am angry at a church or a pastor or a Christian because there has been a violation of a principle, i am loving neither God nor His people. i am clinging to a mere ideology, and that is nothing short of idolatry. ironic, isn't it?

i want to be like the moses of that moment. i want to be fully cognizant of the wrongness of what is happening, to know the sorrow of the growing rift between God and those He loves, to wholeheartedly agree that judgement would be just, and to still love them enough to intercede for them. to get down on my knees for those who refuse to do so. to stand in the gap when i speak to God and to His children. to weep when i could whine. to long for reconciliation and healing in the lives of others, and not only my own. to be clean of all unrighteousness and still stand by those who fall.

say say say

if you haven't done so already, please read the post below first.

excellent. so, peter copied my post on his blog, and it's been getting comments over there. here are a few thoughts of mine.

this one time, i made a promise that included the line, "i will be faithful to the purposes for which God raised up the salvation army, sharing the good news of Jesus Christ, endeavouring to win others to Him, and in His name caring for the needy and the disadvantaged."

i think that means my hands are supposed to get dirty, too. it's individualistic to think division of labour applies to the church the way it does to a factory. there are some basic functions every cell performs. (btw, i think this applies to all Christians, and not just us. but it especially applies to us because we sign pieces of paper that talk about how it SO applies to us.)

this other time, i realized that worship must always be on God's terms, not mine. i doubt a lot of israelites were begging to be sprinkled with blood as part of worship . . . God still asked it. few non-Christians have begged me to tell them about Jesus . . . i still think i'm probably supposed to.

even if you don't think it's an imperative, God is certainly inviting us all into communion and baptism. why we would refuse - as individuals, let alone as a community! - is beyond me. every other denomination of Christians has sought Christ in the mysteries. why are we resisting?

p.s. i think there is something uniquely powerful about parish-based ministry because it's a real concerted effort to effect spiritual growth and change in a given community. and i think the church is more like family than like friends: you don't get to pick them.

a sunday afternoon

so, we left youth councils at 2:30ish on sunday and got to tuscany around 4. we dumped our stuff off and i threw janna in the air and she grabbed my glasses. good stuff.

we got to the place where we do the kids club at around 4:45. everyone's nerves were shot. marren and sean were frustrated with each other. blargh.

so the group of us working on the kids club split up the kids and jumped into three vehicles and hit the streets. we were just dropping by to meet parents, say hi to the kids and remind them to come back this week. stuff like that. second house my car went to wasn't one of my kids, but the woman who leads the group wanted me to come with her. jessica (the girl we were visiting) looks like she might have down's or something like it, but there's no noticeable mental disability when you talk to her. anyway, her leader (jessi) wanted me to go with her just in case. jessica's sister opens the door, we tell her who we are and jessica comes to the door in her hallowe'en costume. as soon as she sees jessi, she just grabs her.

jessi goes over the info with jessica hugging her. then jessica lets go and moves on to me. jessica starts listing games we should play this week at kids club. her older sister (14ish, i think) interrupts not to take attention away from jessica, but to get some for herself. by the time we finish, jessi and i walk away going, "there needs to be something for teenagers in forest lawn"

so many interesting things happened. parents who were surprised to see us and couldn't believe we'd dropped by just to remind the kids to come back. kids calling their friends and inviting them to come to kids club - while angie was standing at the door! really neat stuff.

we finally finished up and headed over to forest lawn for dinner. their last bbq. when our carload got there, marren and angie had already been there for a while and marren said she'd arranged a ride home for us. angie added that she'd had to give her testimony as compensation. so she had already spoken about her experience this weekend.

i grab my dinner and go sit with one of the youth leaders who had been at yc . . . we chatted a bit and, when i got up to get watermelon or something i got caught. by mrs. b - the corps officer.

so, ten minutes later i gave my testimony . . . i didn't really want to, 'cause some of them had already hear it and i don't like giving the same "sermon" more than once. so God changed it a little.

i spoke about God's eagerness to engage with us; about how easy it is to find Him when we seek Him with all we have. and how He's just *waiting* to bless us. and He only has to wait because we choose to wait for "worship time" . . . . and then i gave a bit of my testimony.

the gist of it what this: God is screaming "I love you!!!!" through nature, through His word, through everything. live a life that's all about saying 'i love you, too!'