a little longer.

so i'll be taking a break from this blog.

just to declutter my mind. my life. and allow Him to fill those places.

all of them.

i'm going to rummage through cardboard boxes, dressed in dusty robes. and those secrets i've kept. and lies i've believed. and questions that haunt. will be adressed. confronted.

and i will be loved into wholeness by my Father.

wholeness. gosh, what a great thought. and not just a thought, a reality that He wants for me.

and you.

and it doesn't require striving. or performance. or checking things off. it requires my silence. my submission to His gentle, transformative love.

my being washed and restored by buckets of His pure, authentic love.

my staying with Him, just a little longer.

so that He can do what He needs to do. what He longs to do. with me. in me.

i cannot map out.

looking through my twelvth grade musings i came across many that i was proud of.

but i found one i was very proud of. even if it is old. and isn't written as well as it should be.

reading through this is so strange. because i don't remember writing it. it came from some place i cannot map out. that i venture into each time i write. it is strange, indeed.

and we drive on.

it's been too long since i've seen you: three days and two hours and twenty-eight minutes.. and fourteen seconds. you must think i'm crazy that i remember that, but remember that i am in love and you have been gone.

you smell like your grandmother- old and stale, but only because you kept her company after papa's funeral. she never spent an ounce of money or time on you unless she needed something done. this time she needed her house cleaned out and a shoulder to cry on. lucky for her you are tenderhearted and don't hold onto bitterness like you hold onto me - tightly, with a firm grasp. with fiery eyes.

you kiss me gently on the cheek and i laugh quietly; you say i am beautiful. you take me by my hand and shout: you are beautiful! my face flushes with embarrassment and joy - not too loud, people will hear.

shifty uncertain eyes look into yours - but i'm glad you said it loud enough for that man in the black blazer to hear, he had been eyeing me, and i might have just gone over and..

i am silenced by your warm lips and closed eyes. i was joking, but now i'm just enjoying your embrace.

we walk to your car and you speak of veiled faces and a crowd dressed in black paying respect to papa. the sun was shining like suns shine in children's drawings, smiley face and all. there were no flowers at the funearl. he had written the only flowers he ever needed were the ones in his backyard, in his garden. he loved poppies, the cherry-colored kind, the kind that bewitched dorothy and her friends, had bewitched him. he carried a grace that your grandmother never possessed, never could possess. he kept her tantrums at bay. i'm afraid she'll have to be put away now, you say, in a home where she won't be lonely, where she'll be taken care of.

you open my door and ask me to shut my eyes as we drive away into the shoddy and vandalized city. you say it is a surprise.

i joke about our safety and you press your forehead against mine, breathe in my perfume, and say: trust me.

i do.

the door slams like the chiming of bells and we drive on.

this will be where we start a family and invite guests over to discuss fine literature and art. this will be where we kiss until the sun rises. this will be where we argue and make up. this will be where our children will plant poppies in remembrance of papa.

in two parts, really.

this blog is in two parts, really.

i hope that isn't distracting from the importance of either of them.

today was glorious. and silly.

sometimes i'm really excited to be in class. maybe overly excited. that's when i laugh and the whole class knows it's that girl who laughs loudly. indulgently. and without restraint. i do hope it's endearing. and not annoying. like that one girl who asks too many questions. please keep your hand down. and mouth closed. questions are good. but i'd much rather go on with the class.

sometimes i'm early. actually that is always the case. and my books are stacked neatly, one atop the other. my notebook is turned to a blank page. well, not blank - covered in doodles of trees and mythical creatures. (bahaha.) and my pen is uncapped, ready. painfully ready to write all that my professors says.

sometimes i serve myself three plates of food during one meal. there are just too many options. spring rolls. chicken picatta. mashed potatoes. mexican burrito. rice. beans. burgers. ice cream. nine drink choices. and they all look so appetizing. when i sit down, plates dripping with delicacies, i take a bite of each plate as to decide on which to eat first. and whichever one has the prevailing flavors will be eaten last. because i love to leave the table with a good taste in my mouth. with a heavy stomach. and laughter. light-hearted laughter.

sometimes i really love days like today.

...

school is great right now. and i'm learning. about a lot of things. language. and disciplines. and theory. but mostly about myself. and it's not always nice to learn about yourself. because there are ugly parts of us. parts we haven't dealt with. parts we ignore. parts that are hard. or secret. or just hurt. parts that seem impenetrable. unlovable. shameful. but it is good to know that my King can transform me. and all of those parts. out of love. deep, deep love. because He doesn't want me to live in the realm of shame or guilt. in the realm of hiding or pretending. He has brought me into His marvelous light. He has brought me into His realm of grace and forgiveness as i am now. not as i wish i could be. or know i ought to be. and that profound freedom is around me and in me. in abundance. showering down. and covering me. changing me into His likeness. but only if i invite Him to. only if i open the door, welcoming Him to have rule and reign. surrendering my rights. and ways. and thoughts. to the King. trusting that He knows what He is doing. knowing that He is gentle. trusting that He has nothing but love for me. knowing that His love goes deep.

know it to be true

procrastination: 1

stacey: 0

the battle was over before i blogged about it. and i knew it. it's reasoning was irresitable. as was my bed. and drew barrymore in "never been kissed." i finished the paper the next morning (what a hectic morning it was). and then my dear professor decided to post pone the due date until friday. well i turned it in. and i think i did it wrong. but that's okay because i'm not sick anymore. no coughing up mucus. no sinus headache. no overworked nose. (i swear it almost gave up on me). completely rested. because rest is so so important.

"turn to me and be saved, all you ends of the earth;

for I am God, and there is no other."

isaiah 45:22

today i am thankful that my God is big. and real. that He is not made of wood or bronze with eyes that do not see. and ears that do not hear. or hands that cannot deliver. set free. that He orchestrates the most awe inspiring sunsets. and knows how much i love clouds. that He is not sleeping or slumbering. but recognizes. acknowledges. sees me. and you. that He keeps His word. that He is faithful. that i can stand on His promises. and not be afraid. not be afraid at all. that there is no one like Him. that it is holiness that makes Him beautiful. His apartness. His otherness. His sacredness. His unlike-no-other-thing-or-man-ness. He is my beautiful God. my Eternal Lover. and i am His. and i know it to be true. truer than anything on this earth.

tomorrow morning

is it bad that i would rather [insert anything] than start this paper?

this paper that happens to be due at eleven am tomorrow morning.

it must be. i'm sure of it.

and there is this teeny voice whispering...

start it tomorrow morning.

do it.

wake up a few hours early. crank it out.

this is nothing.

double-spaced? easy.

three pages? easier.

and i really just might.

oh, procrastination just when i thought i've kicked you to the corner, ended this erratic relationship, stopped you in your tracks. you come with full force. and beg me to be your lover. and it is hard to say no when you sound so convincing. and rational. and when i have sneezed twenty-four times this hour alone. and my nose is runny and pink. the least you could do is give me something in return. softer tissues perhaps. but no. you want my time. and i am sniffly enough to give it to you. just now. this minute. but no longer, i hope.

so funny. so foreign

i find blogdom (the world of blogging?) completely amusing and powerful. and i find it so funny. so foreign that we can be nomiated for awards. it strikes me differently each time i think about it. right now i am thankful. thankful for the beautiful words i have read. and for the lives that people have, whether or not they intended to, shared with me. so as a very green blogger i want to extend my plentiful thanks to Jayne at The Little Passenger. never have i read such lengthy daily entries. but it is the length that i love. your ability to follow through with a thought. and to complete it. then think about it. and complete that next thought. thank you dear! :)

here are the rules:

one. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.

two. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.

three. Link the person who nominated you for this award.

four. Name seven things about yourself that people might not know.

five. Nominate seven Kreativ Bloggers.

six. Post links to the seven blogs you nominate.

seven. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.

and the seven things a small number of curious folk might be interested in, take a moment to inhale dramatically as you bubble with anticipation:

one.

when writing, i often spell out numbers (see above). it is just so much more pleasing to the eye than numerical characters, wouldn't you agree? i refuse to use those things. refuse! :)

two.

i can eat. not just the normal recommended amount of calories a day sort of eat. but the "oh... this is my third serving at this meal... and, you say, i shouldn't eat ice cream?" sort of eat. anything will do: ethic foods, desserts, celery...

three.

sometimes when i drive and look at the sky, especially by my church, i get lost in its hugeness. it is like some sort of never ending sheet. and it's like we are completely tucked into it. my goodness, it is a distraction when i drive. and one time i forgot the light turned green because the sky was so blue. and i got honked at. but it was completely worth it.

four.

i am entirely hispanic. mostly mexican. and do not speak spanish fluently at all. when i was younger my parents used to speak in spanish around me. but i always knew when they were talking about me. they said things like mijita. or preciosa. or sometimes burra. the last one isn't really that endearing. but that's alright. my siblings all have authentic names: humberto, aristeo, patricia, graciela... and i have stacey. but do not let their names fool you. they are often mistaken for gringos. i fit right in.

five.

i really, really despise high school dances. the nonsense that goes on there is blood boiling. i know the need for affection. the need for attention. and maybe that guy will dance with me. but grinding is not the same as dancing. he is using you to fulfill his insatiable desire to be aroused. and i'm sure you aren't fulfilled the next morning. it may have been fun. no strings attatched. living in the moment. but by no means was it fulfilling. and that attention he gave you was probably because he could see down your shirt. maybe even up your skirt. ::sigh:: please, don't give yourself away so freely. i suppose my feelings towards school dances has more to do with my awareness and heartbrokenness for girls who don't know their worth. more on this in another blog? maybe.

six.

i doodle. incessantly. i have them all saved. because some of them are masterpieces. and some of them are stories.

seven.

when i was in third grade, i fell asleep in class during a documentary on the grand canyon. and i woke up in a puddle of drool. a week later i laughed during story time. and blondie the soccer player had just been power hosed by the water in my mouth. true story. needless to say, it was a rough week. :)

time to nomiate.

emily of emilykatescribbles

athena of let's fly away now

sara of one long road

julia of synonyms for optimisn

angela of unfading hope

rayray of she just smiled

michelle of meesh's mouth

thanks again, jayne.

this is still so funny to me. and foreign.

happy today!

horribly honest

i ask the question of friendships once more. in lieu of recent happenings, or lack there of, i have realized that the relationships i desperately want are just not there right now. and it's okay. because i would rather wait than give myself, my story, my secrets to flighty friends, ones who display gross amounts of selfishness, ones who share, generously, the issues confided in them with others, ones who are immature and exclusive. such behavior sickens me. i will be there for these people. i will listen and encourage.

but give them myself, i will not.

i remember loneliness. loneliness was the blanket that covered me most mornings. most evenings. most in betweens. i used to hold it tightly not too long ago. for years i think. no, i know. sometimes it appears on the edge of my bed. in the backseat of my car. when things get frighteningly overwhelming. when i feel rejected. excluded. replaced. not good enough to laugh with. not good enough to share time with. not good enough. and in my teenage angst i grew bitter towards these people who showed me with their actions that i was not good enough to call up and make plans with. that i was not worth a twenty second phonecall. a five word text message. and they, the bane of my existence, knew nothing of this bitterness. because i hid it well. and smiled. and made jokes when they would let me. yes, i accepted this. and i hated them for it. and you can see the cycle. yes, this cycle that i sometimes surrender to even now. and everything in this cycle hinges on hiding everything.

let us face the truth here and now. let us be direct with each other. horribly honest. we were not made to hold in this junk. to hide all of this muck behind our eyes, glazed with false joy. life is beautiful. and equally ugly. and the friendships we commit ourselves in must consider this truth. they must take into account that we need to be candid with one another. and we need to leave room for others to be candid. uncontrived, unrehearsed friendship. that is what i want. and it's okay if it takes time. i've got time. time to spare. :)

and my stomach is aching with hunger.

i shall be merry and eat!

happy labor day. (is that what they say today? i do hope so.)

and i had no answer.

dear children-who-i-will-play-hide-and-seek-with,

if i am not a teacher when you are reading this i must explain why.

it was the twenty-seventh of august and a blistering afternoon as i walked into room 105 with haste. the class? intro to education. the teacher was poised and carried herself with grace. her eyes glowed - warm and welcoming, interested and engaged. she rattled off the requirements, pacing leisurely. eyes still glowing, but now stern. soft but stern. she asked: "why are you taking this course?" and was bombarded with answers such as: i've wanted to be a teacher since i was four, or my mother was a teacher, and before her, my grandmother, or i have helped out in sunday school, or i intern at the ymca. and i had no answer. no passionate, or even slightly enthusiastic response. of course i said something. but it was nothing of consequence or commitment. and with an approving glance, she moved to the next student. my answer had nothing to do with a profound longing in my soul to affect the lives of children in a classroom setting. because that desire is not in me. not now. maybe not ever. thus i dropped my liberal studies major. and i am now a worship and the arts major. worship leader emphasis. i am most complete when in His presence. and am honored to usher in His presence. and am amazed when people engage with Him. there is no thing like it.

that is the story. my story. and your grandfather is worried because he is unsure of the job opportunities i will find. he is concerned that i do not see the reality of my decision. he anticipates the dire situations i might find myself in if i do not declare a "useful" major. a "practical" major. one that will provide for my future. but i know my God. and He is real. and He is entirely more aware of the reality of my decision than even your grandfather is. than even i am. and that is a relief.

sincerely,
a girl who has made a life altering decision to trust that His plans are far better than mine