Final Things

These days fly by faster than I can hold on to. It seems everyone is graduating or getting married or engaged or having babies. Me no less than anyone else. Finals week of my senior year is only a day away. A week after that and two of my best friends, Ryan Martin and Kristen Powell are marrying each other in Cottonwood, Texas. Two weeks after that Phil and I are moving into our second house just down the street. A month and half after that the precious baby in my womb is due to arrive in this world.

School still looms in the future, as I still have one year left. (Going the five year plan) It seems nearly insane that I've made it this far. Summer of 2012 is looming ahead of us. Anxious, expectant and full of a lot of growth. The excitement of having friends to walk besides and live life with us this summer is an amazing blessing. I don't know where the Lord is going to take the three of us couples, but the fruit we are already seeing over the past few weeks speaks expectancy into the the things to come.

Its been a painful void of writing during this last season or last year really. I hardly ever write unless its an assignment for school. I can feel the weight of this bearing me down. There is much to be done...How in the world do I start. I feel it would take a year to catch up and that realization is overwhelming. I secretly want to do photography, but am afraid to invest the time and money for fear I would give up or lose interest. Yet, the desire to capture memories and life to illustrate my written words is very attractive and alluring.

In many ways these next few weeks are a tying up and completing of former things and moving on to the next stage in life. Goodbyes to graduating friends and hellos to those moving into our lives are a constant reminder of this reality. I feel like every week a separating between what was and what is becoming. I like it, most of the time. Sometimes I feel confused and lost. I am not exactly the one always moving, but it seems the world swirls around me with change. Yet I am changing too. Everything seems bigger than it used to be, in the best possible way. The world is full of choices and opportunity, of sweet friendships, both old and new that flow in and out of our lives.

It seems the one thing that remains is family. I am realizing this more and more. And find this discovery very fulfilling and comforting.

A normal day in the week

Well, it's that time of year again for a new look and feel. The cool air from our first autumn cold front of 2011 has me all inspired and giddy. Today is the second day of the second week of school. I love Tuesday/ Thursdays because I have no work or class until 9:30am. It is a beautiful change from the last three years of all 8:00ams. My living room windows are open, the sun is up, my kitten is purring and coffee is brewing in the kitchen. Hazelnut brew...mmmhhh...my favorite.

I'm looking forward to my Nonfiction class with Bill Carrol this morning. We are reading our first text "The Sacredness of Questioning Everything" by David Dark. It was quite a wild and strange read. I've never read anything by an agnostic before and he had my head quite spinning with all of his ambiguity. It prefaces itself for an exciting discussion in class today, which I am actually pumped about. That is what happens when you hit your senior year as an English major, you start waking up and actually want to talk in class.

After my morning class I have chapel, which is only 30 minutes, always a good time too see my community in Section C. Then work for an hour and half...and then Business and Professional writing with Haley at 3:00pm. See as all my homework is done for that class and the one this morning I feel ready to seize the day. Being prepared just makes life so much more relaxing, don't you think?

I might even get Phil to put the hammock up in the yard this evening so I can do my homework out there before the sun goes down. He's leading Fire in the Night with Ashley at 9:30pm (which I also need to be at) so hopefully he won't be to busy preparing for it.

Two more weeks and maybe, just the weather will be cool enough to wear my boots all day. I love pulling out all the fall clothing. Makes me want to eat apple pie and take pictures in the leaves.

Hold on.

A thousand little pictures, they flash, in between blinking lights, faded memories of sorrows and joys. It's like a heartbeat, pulsing under the flesh of a human body. Slow and steady. The rhythm of another world, the unseen life source behind the veil.It grips you and then releases. One minute your free and the next your are enslaved. The force of the wave you leave behind in your wake can cause the driest tree to bloom and yet leave a trail of causalities with the deepest wounds.

You would die if asked, for a taste, a glimpse, a simple kiss of the one you ached to know. And yet to know is surrounded with heartache, with loss and with thwarted desire. You bend to not break and break to be healed. It's not easy, when a gun is pointed at your head and the trigger decides your next breath, your next embrace and your next life.

You fingers grasp and yearn and the pictures keep dancing, reminding you of what you do not have and yet what you long for. You would scream if you had enough air to breathe and you would cry if indeed your tears would be enough.

But none of it is...so you keep searching.

...Lucy

We adopted a kitten this summer. Since I've been in college, these have been the only three years I've not had a pet. I've been begging my husband, since before we were even married to get a cat. On August 1, 2011 we did it.

Her name is Lucy.

Film

Its not hard to see why so many people find life in front of a TV so easy. It makes you forget real life for a while, with all its pain, struggle and heartache. Instead you watch other people's pain, struggle and heartache and then rejoice that it isn't you. I've found myself watching too many movies and TV shows this summer. So I keep asking myself. Why this fascination with a story? This addiction to drama? This obsession with the lives of other people, both their joys and their sorrows, their adventures and their losses?

What is the secret to a story as its plays itself out on the flat screen TV in your living room? (I personally don't own one, I just use my laptop) I wonder this question over and over again as we watch millions of people flood the theater's on opening nights; as we watch billions of dollars being poured into the film-making industry. I'm not against it, but neither can say that I am for it. You can't just say that those stories that flicker across your television screen are all entertainment and nothing else. If it was simply that I'm not sure that it would be such a big deal. No it's something much deeper, even as it numbs you to reality, it also awakens you to something you can't quite put your finger on and every time you the credits scroll you feel it drop away just out of reach and you are left with that burning desire to see the next sequel or the next episode, anything to feel it again.

And so it happens over and over again. More movies are filmed, by tickets bought and more shelves built for their showcase DVDS. Why?

Memories

I was in Hawaii less than a month ago. Sitting on a beach with a book in my hands, sun tanning my skin and sand creeping its way inside my bathing suit. I was staring out into rolling blue waves, watching my husband of only a few days riding the wakes with his surf board. Kauai's impressive mountain range pushed its way to the clouds behind me, where four-hundred foot waterfalls tumbled down to the island's valley floor.

I'm pretty sure every thing is several tones brighter in Hawaii. Also the rain is clearer and fruit is three times as big. When I took  my first step off the plane in Honolulu I swear the air tasted like sugar. Maybe not the most accurate description, but it was what I felt, plus the breeze blowing in from the ocean was like heaven.

People can say I was on my honeymoon and perhaps every thing was romanticized, but I'm pretty darn sure that was the way it was. In any case, now that I'm back in Texas, and the weather is sizzling hot and the air dry and your sweat tastes like vinegar salt I can't help remembering Hawaii. The only way of enjoying a good book here is in the cool, air conditioned atmosphere of your own home or sitting on your computer near an electrical outlet.

Like today I'm inside, with the curtains drawn and cool cup of sweet tea in my hands. A cool, deep, blue ocean of water would be real nice right now.

You can feeling the yearning.
You can taste.
Hear it.
Almost touch it.
It follows you around, on the hem of your jeans, hanging there silent and heavy. It pulls with uninhibited inconsideration at what you are doing, jerks at you with dogmatic precision and whispers with gentle caresses. It never leaves, but neither does stay close enough for you to hold and real enough for you see. It dances just out of reach, teasing, laughing and winking and then falls back in step just behind, dust in its wake and fire in its eyes.

If you look back it will slide to the left and if you look to the left it will slide to the right, but it always pushes you forward, pleading for a chance to show you it's dreams. One by one they flash in before your eyes, leaving you breathless and aching. And when it touches your belly with that finger of desire you flail and writhe, begging for mercy and but asking for more. You cover your ears, but your heart is unguarded, then you close your eyes, but your feet keep moving. There is no power to stop it on earth or in heaven.

And so you walk and then you run, but the yearning remains, holding your hands and kissing your feet. The strength of its will and the fury of its devotion sweep you off your feet and you fall panting in the dirt.

It really does not have a name, but the only one I can come up with today is this: Heaven is out there, reminding me I belong there and not here and it will never let up until I am home.

Poems

I wrote several poems in poetry workshop class last semester. Here are a few samples. Mostly about Israel...

Masada

The air over the Dead Sea
shimmers and pulsates
like a force wall
from a sci-fi movie
I squint outwards
into the heat
It bounces off the
canyon walls of En Gedi
and distant shores of Jordan

I am standing on an ancient
fortress rising from
the baking dust of the 
arid desert gently sloping
above the acidic waters

Moans of the dying
and screams of the anguished
echo up from the
valleys of history
I can see the vultures
as they circle in lazy
lurid loops above a dying
sunset

Blood lies in pools
and runs in rivulets
from every abode
They had no other choice
we are told
Women and children first
Slain by the men's swords
then these slew each other
until only one remained
taking the curse upon himself
He fell on his own blade
The Romans were defeated
before they even breached the gates

I stand on the edge
staring at the crumbling walls
and fallen bricks
letting the sun
beat on my
bare head
I wonder if I would
have done the same
to escape slavery
and living death

The hot air rises
from the Dead Sea
fans my dripping face
and I taste
salt

On the Shores of Galilee

I walk down the shore

on a dirt path

away from my hotel

as cars belch fumes

on nearby roads

and bikini clad

swimmers soak themselves

in the nearby swimming pool 

surrounded by perfectly

manicured green lawns

He walked here

his bare toes upon

the pebble strewn shore

so small

this three mile

half moon of land

around the Galilean Sea

Bethany, Capernaum, Tiberius

All within my naked eye

He sweated

on wooden boats

as he fished

and under the midday sun

he burned

My own feet stand on a dock staring out

onto the water he quieted

and the cities he lived in

They feel so gritty, so dirty and so loud

as techno-pop music ripples

across the water

where gaudy lights glow

Over the concert’s steady beat

a starry-eyed couple is kissing

in the dark

I can hear their quickened breath

I am standing where he walked

dirt in his fingernails

where a woman washed his feet

with her hair

Only a few minutes’ walk

from here

He danced at weddings

drank wine

and laughed with the men

I feel the weight of the night sky

he once gazed at

pressing in with the reality

of his humanity

and the unity of this

with my own desperate

longings

I think of how

I sailed in a wooden boat

a few hours ago

on this sea

no storm

and no oily fishermen

just jet skis

following our waves

and the hum of our modern engines

as droplets of water

sprayed my sunburn cheeks

He walked on this water

he was here

just as I am now

I close my eyes

and breathe

wondering what

he would have smelled like

and I hear the water

lap against the rocky

shores

Mountains, Cali shores and Jerusalem lights...

My summer has been magical. How about yours? I need to pinch myself sometimes to really believe that what has happened to me this summer is real. It all seems like it should have happened to another girl, in another place, in another time.  I've travelled from the east to west coasts of American and spent to weeks in the middle east. I've stood on the peaks of mountains, swam in the oceans and walked the streets of ancient cities.

What is happening to me? Why is God so good, so gracious and so loving. This summer has screamed His generous heart over me more than another moment of time in my 22 years of existence.

So here is the best of California...

Grand Canyon Love

Sisters Forever

Look to horizon!

Long Beach Day

Walking on the sand

Blustery evening

 Summer?

 Santa Barbara...pier

West Coast Sunset!

My Beloved

Redwood

Golden Gate

 Pacific Ocean, San Francisco Bay

John and Mindy's Wedding

Jerusalem joy

 YES!

 Jaffa Gate!

And it has only begun. In 9 months I will be Mrs. Dosa!

Israel Entry One

We've been at camp since Sunday now. Three days. It is crazy how fast time is already flying. We are in Israel! The homeland of Jesus. Here at the camp though it feels like we are in Texas. Hot and dry. The camp is circled around a baseball field. Supposedly one of only three in all of Israel.

But when you know you are not in Texas when everyone around you is speaking a different language, when palm trees and vibrant bushes are in every patch of foliage and when the distant skyline of Tel Aviv is to the west. Electric trains go by ever hour. They are silent and short.

Today is our first full day of camp. It is going to be a long hot day of silly games, baseball, Popsicles and swimming. The children are the most beautiful little people I have ever seen. Most don't know english, but will talk to you anyway in their own beautiful Hebrew. Ever time I hear the language I can feel almost power in it. This is the language of God's chosen people!

We have a meeting right now to prepare for the day. So I should go. No one is ever on time here. They don't seem to need it, yet everything gets done. Incredible.

Later...

Almost there...

Three more days and I will be in the air for Israel! The summer has flown by much faster than I anticipated. All of my packing is nearly finished. I've been to Cape Hatteras and California and back, the Israel trip is paid for, travel insurance is paid for, my bags packed, (nearly) all last minute things have been bought or borrowed, and now I am finishing up my last few days of work.

I'm excited but nervous, I've never been out of the United States until now. I'm praying for the Lord to continue revealing his heart for me about his chosen people. I look forward to meeting the children the first wee and all the traveling we will be doing the second week. Jerusalem will be amazing!

It's almost here...

Homesick

“If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy,

the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world” - C.S. Lewis

It is the lonely sinking in your gut that gets you first. Like a deep aching hole that falls straight to your toes. Nothing you feel, taste, see, hear or touch can make it full. The emptiness reverberates within your soul like a time bomb, threatening you, mocking you, pushing you...to the limits of your control. Your longings erupt, but their valiant efforts always fall just short of satisfaction. Then you begin the searching again, hoping against hope to take away the hole, only to find it is always growing bigger.

Your questions scream for help, and the answers your find are never complete. What is it you long for?

The confessions of my heart are false to the desires that truly lie within. It is not just the brilliant sunrises, a lover's sweet kisses, music's passionate release or the thrill of accomplishment. These open up the doors to a place I have not even set a toenail upon. Yet I feel it in these moments and the anguish is less than bearable.

Then the fantasies come. The foolish fantasies that the mind and reason condemn, while yet the heart grabs hold of with tenacious hope. Fantasies of another world. A place where nothing is impossible. Am I a fool to even speak these childish words? Some would say yes, without a moment's hesitation.

I watched the sunset tonight and knew. I knew the how and I knew why. I knew where it all came from...I knew where I came from. This is the big secret.

I am, we all are, from another world. We are displaced aliens, wondering a foreign land. Our memories are erased, our hearts have forgotten, only our spirits yearn and remember what once was. Our dreams struggle to touch our minds with the truth.

Like a virulent disease it begins to spread through our consciousness, one cell at a time. Until we are utterly shaking in the throes of its violence. We are people sick because of something that is far to good than we can imagine. We are homesick. Longing to go to the place from where we were created, from where we were born.

Home. Heaven. Jesus.

It makes perfect sense that I am groaning in anguish, that I'm consistently heart broken, that I am weary, tired and growing older every day.

Creation is waiting in the darkness of night, writhing as though in labor, waiting for the morning to come with it's fulfillment and hope.

When will we go home? When will all this madness end? The way has been made, how much longer before the door opens? How much more before life is as it should be?

Will not those who have forgotten, remember? Will we not ALL long for the same thing and hasten it's return? We must all groan in anguish before the end for our joy to be complete. Hasten, hasten, the awaking of grief and desire and what we seek will be restored!

And yet, today I slowly burn with longing. I feel, but cannot touch, taste, but cannot eat, hear but cannot sing, see but cannot move. I must wage war until it is time, I must endure until the end. I must walk in faith and in peace.

The Sword

The cliff walls rose steep and severe towards a bleak and colorless sky. A narrow, lifeless path curved a jagged opening between the cliffs. The rocks jutting from the cliffs pointed like threatening knives towards the earth. Dust swirled upward as gusts of wind blew through the path. It was a cold, clean wind blowing from the opening at the far end of the cliffs.

A thin trembling figure appeared at this opening. It was a young woman who was slowly placing one foot in front of another. Her clothing was new and washed. Her hair long and clean. Her sword bright and sharp. She was untouched by battle, yet deep, desperate knowledge glowed in her bright eyes. The questions in her mind were spinning.

Why was she here? What could she possibly do? Was this really her fight? Who had fallen to this trap? Not her. Surely there were bigger more vital battles to fight?

The voice of her father, however, rang in her ears, louder and clearer, the more her doubts assailed her. GO AND BRING MY PEOPLE BACK TO ME.

She could not turn around and leave now. Her fist clenched around the hilt of her sword. The leather dug into her palm. She closed her eyes. The dangers were real, the fear however was not true. There could be no fear when she held her sword. She was one against a hundred, but she had been given more strength than a thousand.

Her feet began moving forward, firm and defiant. Her enemies would not keep their victory today. Their temporary glory would fall to shame at their feet. She steeled her countenance, preparing herself for the sight she would see. Death was waiting on the path ahead.

The path turned as the cold wind propelled her feet forward. With it came a new smell. A stench, overwhelming and strong. The stench of a hundred dead bodies heaped against the sides of the path. Their mangled, bloody limbs were bent and twisted at odd angles. Faces blank and lifeless. Deep and gaping wounds glared angrily towards the sky.

The young woman caught her breath and one hand involuntarily covered her mouth. She had seen death before, but not to this magnitude. Doubt reared its ugly claws and clutched her heart in an iron grip. She knew what she had to do, but what if it didn't work? They were all already dead.

There was no but her enemies to see. They were invisible but she knew they were in the rocks hiding, waiting with baited, poisenous breath. What if she looked like a weak and powerless fool in their eyes?

Her sword began vibrating and then heat shot from its hilt to its tip. The physical reminder of the power she held brought tears to her eyes. This was going to be painful.

Sobbing, she began walking and reached the first pile of dead. Realization hit her chest like an avalanche. It nearly knocked her to her knees with its weight. These dead would never know freedom unless she moved in the power given to her. They would never know real life, real truth and unshakable faith unless she reached out to touch them.

She slowly raised her sword over the first body. Flames of heat began flickering off its shiny surface. How her hands could hold the sword without being burned she did not know.

Crying out the name of her father she brought the sword down into the center of the corpse's heart. Her gut lurched in agony as the dead one's anguish swept through her body. Her sword began trembling violently as the body broke into convulsions.

She withdrew the sword and the body, a man's, let out a shuddering gasp. Skin, bones, blood and sinews rippled back into place across his body. Both eyes popped open and he sat up with a deep gasp,

The young woman backed up, speechless. It worked! He smiled, reached for his sword and jumped to his feet," What are you waiting for?"

Still unable to speak she stared. She wasn't a fool!

" The others..." he turned, plunging his sword into the body that had been lying next to him, motioning her forward.

Strengthened and empowered the young woman leaped forward, sword still hot.

The truth had brought life. She murmured her father's name in gratitude and thankfulness. She was no longer alone. An army was rising at her feet.

Easter. Life. Sunsets

Returning home after weeks and weeks of back to back school, work and church activities, makes you appreciate the boredom and slowness of home. I was home for only two days, and I felt as if I stepped into paradise.

The weather was perfect, my mom's remodeled house was beautiful, and my boyfriend surprising me on saturday morning with his appearance was perfect. All eight of my cousins and siblings were there, and my uncle, two aunts and grandparents. It was a beautiful day.

And me and Phil went for a walk...

Maybe it's true...

I remember what you wore on the first day
You came into my life
And I thought hey
You know this could be something
'Cause everything you do and words you say
You know that it all takes my breath away
And now I'm left with nothing

'Cause maybe it's true, that I can't live without you
Well maybe two is better than one
There's so much time, to figure out the rest of my life
And you've already got me coming undone
And I'm thinking two, is better than one

I remember every look upon your face,
The way you roll your eyes, the way you taste
You make it hard for breathing
'Cause when I close my eyes and drift away
I think of you and everythings okay
And finally now, we're leaving

And maybe it's true, that I can't live without you
Well maybe two is better than one
There's so much time, to figure out the rest of my life
And you've already got me coming undone
And I'm thinking two, is better than one

Yeah, yeah

I remember what you wore on the first day
You came into my life
And I thought hey

Maybe it's true, that I can't live without you
Maybe two is better than one
There's so much time, to figure out the rest of my life
And you've already got me coming undone
And I'm thinking

Oooh I can't live without you
'Cause baby two is better than one
There's so much time, to figure out the rest of my life
And I've figured out with all that's said and done
Two, is better than one

Two is better than one

Copyright@boyslikegirls/taylorswift

4 months...

...my 22 birthday, Dec 11, 2009!

...camping at Kristen's.

...visiting Phil's family!

U2 Concert!

Nick and Kendra's wedding!

...state fair!