I ran down to the dock; snow blowing into my face and stinging the skin on my neck. Who needs scarves?! Liberated. Braving the weather, stepping carefully to avoid slipping on the slush. The geese were still in the water- how can they stand it? I could see straight down to the greenish rocks walking out to the dock. I'm so in love with that place; funny how we fall in love with places so much easier than we fall in love with people sometimes. Or how much easier they are to love. Probably because they don't move, can't run from you or judge you and places don't care much what you think of them either. It was extra cold, but I laid back on the grates and put my feet over the edge; the white took up all my vision. I remembered what I'd read in The Help: "Cause that's the way prayer do. It's like electricity, it keeps things going." And I thought of all of us that need a little shock to the heart to keep us running this race, and sent a couple words of joy filled thanks waaaaay out into the whiteness, like they'd make the water ripple from bouncing around so happily.

the way you are.

Stephanie in the pottery studio

Embrace what you do best. You are talented in your own way! Sometimes I feel embarrassed when people say things like "You are a wonderful artist!" because it feels funny rolling off people's tongues on to the top of my head. Weird right? 

But then I remembered my best friend from 8th grade at public school. Her name was Sam and she had a beautiful voice. One day, we were waiting for the bus and I was feeling so blue! She sat criss-cross on the grass and told me to come sit in the space on top of her feet so she could wrap her arms around me. And she sang to me!! She did what she she did best for me, what service. 

Do not be embarrassed of what you do best, share it willingly and it will help others to embrace their best as well. I think I really do believe that. Paint and sing and create and give of yourself; it will inspire others to share and open up. 

ditches

When I was learning how to ride a bike, I kept falling in the ditch. I was adamant about riding without training wheels, so my father (such a patient saint) took them off before I was ready. He would drive the truck next to me as my five-year-old legs wobbled and jerked around and inevitably-- I always fell in the ditch. It was so gross, too. Scummy old water, filled with tad poles and blackberry vines dipping down, digging into my scrawny arms as I crawled onto the road. My dad would pull the bike out and we'd go home; I would sob uncontrollably. 

And we did that again and again and again. The same routine. Riding, falling, crying. This happens to all little kids, this routine. But I was falling into a DITCH. Filled with nasty dank water. 

But as expected, one day we made it around the whole block totally unscathed and it was the greatest day of my tiny life.

My dad and I are still doing that same routine, again and again. I'll send him texts saying, "Dad, I keep falling in the ditch!" and he pulls the bike out-- which is usually my negative/scared/arrogant/angry/confused/anxious/bitter attitude-- & says that he is praying for me.

Sometimes, I remind my parents to pray for me. And their response is the same: “how could you think that we are not praying for you, honey??” And I know there is a connection to be made here about letting someone you love free before they’re ready and watching with gritted teeth as they repeatedly drive themselves into a ditch and still sticking with them until they succeed; that there is a connection to be made about how this is the story we are all living and the story God has been telling to us since the beginning of forever, and will keep telling until the end of forever. And that we can take a little bit of comfort in that and be reassured that this is a block we will get around one day.

@$("R("EG@#"9aejfewiaof!

Solution: lighting stuff on fire.

I'm really trying to have a spirit of optimism about this whole Principles of Accounting thing...
It's been increasingly difficult. Time consuming. Draining. 

Why am I in this class again!? And WHY are there FOUR assignments + a project due during TEST week!?

There is a crack in the coffee table where I have been repeatedly smacking my forehead trying to answer those questions. 

56 Things

There's so much you can do with your time! You should never be bored! (Not that its not okay to be bored sometimes, maybe it's unavoidable). I found this great list and I'm going to start doing these things more often:

1. Read the archives of your favorite blogs. 
2. Build a fort.
3. Make some of your Pinterest pins
4. Get creative with your meals. 
5. Mend those clothes that need mending.
6. Watch the movies of your favorite actor/actress (Russell Crowe!!!)
7. Use those gift certificates!
8. Get organized
9. Cut your own hair
10. Test new hairstyles
11. Spa day at home
12. Take a picture an hour (doing this!)
13. Write letters by hand
14. Make gifts!
15. Tackle a nagging task
16. De-clutter
17. Clean your house from top to bottom
18. Clean your car
19. Come up with new outfit combinations
20. POTLUCKS!
21. Rearrange your house
22. Volunteer
23. Free library and community events
24. Sleep-in
25. Nap
26. Catch up on your reading
27. Go for a run
28. Go to the book store and peruse the magazines
29. Go Dumpster Diving!
30. Call your long-distance relatives
31. Organize your photos
32. Make cards
33. Make cookies
34. Update your to-do list
35. Write
36. Start a happy book
37. Go on a bike ride
38. Hike
39. See if your can return anything you've bought
40. Wash all your linens (Lord knows you need to!)
41. Look over your finances. 
42. Figure out your goals
43. Write a gratitude list
44. Have a sleepover
45. Make meaningful contact
46. Have your friend over
47. Bus it
48. Open Mic Night!
49. Free week at a new gym
50. Put things on Craigslist
51. Sell to a pawn shop
52. Do a clothing swap!
53. Hold a yard sale
54. Donate to the thrift shop
55. Connect with an old friend
56. Be anonymously nice

It doesn't work this way.

David and I backpacked across Europe a couple winters ago. I was searching for the perfect scarf- it needed to be soft and whipped and warm. After searching in Paris for 3 days with no luck, I came across a craft shop deep down an alleyway. 

The shelves were high with every single color of yarn you could imagine. Color coordinated and stacked with exact symmetry, each in it's own cubby-type box with a French label and a price in Euros. The shelves were high, wall-to-wall, and some boxes couldn't be reached without help.

I picked a thick red yarn. I sat in the icy train station and made my own scarf, knowing the only way to get what I wanted was to create it myself. 

I'm thinking so much of those shelves today. How nice it would be to put every project, every pain, every memory, every joy, every choice in a box. Organized, labeled. That I could pull off the shelf and create something out of whatever is inside whenever I want. 

But mostly, it would be so nice to be able to stand in front of the shelves with their boxes and not have to make a single decision. Just be able to look up at them, let them stay where I put them; knowing that I could stand there forever...not deciding anything. 

you know the place

The sun set was a quick killer; 
she scrambled hard and fast and accurate
up the shards of a boulder field 
To the base of a granite face- 
Birds could not have reached her.
She spread those lonely arms out like butter on bread- 
They were all giants and she was a pebble.
She pressed chapped lips up against all that rock;
against the things that would not change.
they were the exact weight of forever; unlike so many things
that change like paper into coins. 

wedding day!

Victoria & Charles got hitched last night- look at her! The prettiest girl in the world!

except You-

holy sonnet xiv.



Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me. 
-john donne.

where the heat is.

Janae (space heater not pictured)

We have these friends who live in a pretty big house. It is a good home. These friends are men and there must be at least 20 of them living in this one house. And even though it is winter, they refuse to turn the heat on until January...

Because look at all the money they're saving! When I visit them, I take my wool socks. Most of the news I hear from my friend Nick, who lives in the house, is that he's cold. Just cold. All the time. I get texts like "I live in the Arctic" or "I'm wearing three coats" to which I respond "I live in a crock pot! Come to our home!"

We definitely don't skimp on turning on the heat. Janae has a tiny space heater and we place it in one room or another and we huddle in front of it doing homework, drinking coffee, napping, making dinner...

Which I love,  because it makes me feel like heat is where the heart is. All of us drawn to it like the porch light of a home I am so sick for sometimes. 

The rain in Spain! El Parque Guell, Barcelona. 

This week, I am a sponge. Soaking up so much water, so many things to do-- weddings (Victoria's getting married! It's so surreal), visits from friends (IsraelC gets here tomorrow!), group projects, research papers (does anyone really care about Social Judgment Theory?), dirty dishes, and some ugly shadows rearing their ugly heads at me. I am just glaring into all of it, yelling 'come at me, brah!' like my friend Courtney always says, as she does a little boxer's dance like Ali, picking her fights and taking names. 
And time is squeezing all the water out, forcefully. Now there is no choice but to do. 

familia.

What I'm scared of most about graduating is finding a job where I fit in as well as I do at the radio station. About finding work with people who care about a cause, who care about me, who I can care about, and who care about people. 

Fun with Don's iPhone

Because here- they care so much about people. There is no mistake where their hearts lie. They spend precious work time on the phone with listeners, talking them through hard things, taking prayer requests, praying over the phone, standing at the booths at events, talking talking talking, listening listening listening. It's not just the music that creates this ministry; it is the people keeping it up and running.

Over the years, they've come to know my family and close friends as they've passed through bringing me lunch or coffee. One day, Walter (the station engineer) texted me saying my good friend was crying in her car in the Andy's parking lot. He had recognized her face and thought she could use a friend. When I drove over and crawled in her passenger seat, she asked how I had known she was there- "Walter told me." She was shocked at how much he cared when most people would have just walked by.

Sali, the office manager, has given my hand-me-downs and furniture, listened to my rants, given me time off work to do homework, knitted me Christmas presents and brought me coffee. Don, the morning show host, is my father figure and smothers me with bear hugs, encouragement, and good advice. He even has a picture of me on his shelf, among pictures of his own kids. Even my "hardhearted" boss Ernest jokes around with the student workers during our meetings and keeps miniature Angry Bird plush toys in his office to battle us with. We celebrate everyone's birthday, and decorate for the holidays, and have moments of extreme laughter where we roll on the ground from the hilarity. They all make time for people.

I'm worried about not being able to find a place where we can all gather together in a tiny office and pray. At one point last year, I came in before going to speak to my boyfriend about breaking up. They all dropped what they were doing, came into Sali's office and put their arms around me, praying for God's will and strength and hope. What beautiful people. They are such Christians- and I know by their love.

I feel so very at home here, at the front desk. Among my to-do list and post it notes. I'm worried about having to clean out my desk at the end of the year and move on. I'm worried about finding another family. Perhaps my expectations are too high, being blessed with such a positive work environment. But I hope that I can carry their influence in my heart enough that perhaps I will be the one to start this same kind of thing somewhere else.

some dreams

For years now, I've made it a priority to get my boss Ernest at the station to play songs on the radio that I, personally, think people would appreciate.

It doesn't go over well usually :). He's a hard one to convince. While I was in Spain two years ago, I was listening to Gungor a lot, and found the song "Beautiful Things" and thought it was beautiful. I asked him over and over and over for a year and half to play it. And he finally did.

Honestly, it hasn't been as accepted by our target audience as I hoped. But it doesn't make it any less meaningful to ME!

Here's another song that he won't add to our playlist, but means something to me. Because my mom and I listen to it on road trips and sing as loud as we can and stomp our feet. And it's appropriate for this time of year (Holidayzzzz!) when people are coming home or leaving home. And that is meaningful, too.

winter.

Winter has a way of showing you where the leaks are
The heat has been escaping through the cracks in our front door
And through the walls even--
The builders left them paper thin with no insulation.

The faucet has been dripping,
the drain not draining
and I've been skipping work.

And here we think we build such strong houses-
sealed in plastic and metals and gooey stuff,
but the air escapes & the water takes it's time
running away to the pipes.

And here I think I build such strong walls--
sealed water-tight.
But still you come-
a faint breeze seeping through, unexpectedly in winter
Like the broken window seals
that leak
so much
water.

friends who don't change.

and then you beg me to come find you
and pull you back to the ground
and tether you to something that won't change
when you get out of range.
-chris velan

there is a light.

A couple weeks ago, a 15 year old girl named Malala Yousufzai was shot in the head and neck on a school bus in Pakistan by the Taliban. She was targeted because she spoke out about her right to receive an education-- for all girls to receive an education. And this terrorist group shot her for it.

I bet they were even more upset when they found out that she lived.
And will keep speaking out.
She received a nomination for the International Children's Peace Prize.
And that people are rallying behind her.
Cheering for her and her friends.
For mankind.
And the goodness in all of us.

Being involved in Amnesty International has opened my eyes to...almost too much, and I'm a little scared. Because the violations of human rights globally is overwhelming. Like aperture in photography, long exposure lets in more light than short exposure. And this is going to be a life-long venture, I feel.

The other night, I came across a poem I wrote in Spain. It was long and boring and didn't rhyme, but the last line I remember and wonder what I was thinking when I wrote it. But now I feel that it is what Malala is saying to all of us.

"There is a light!!!
can you see it?
-- are your eyes open?"

the hawk-

David rescued a hawk yesterday--
it was hit by a car, it's little leg all mashed
like potatoes.
Wouldn't fly, couldn't walk.
He wrapped it in a jacket
Let it rest in the passenger seat and drove it to the vet
Asking if he could save it
Could something be done?!
Some things are just so badly
damaged and can't be
salvaged--

not in the driver's seat

"Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for?" -Matthew 16

fresh air.

The rain hasn't stopped for even a minute today. And its one of those days where I wish I could drag my twin mattress down to the back of my truck, haul all the blankets out of the house and drive out to Valley Chapel to sleep under the stars. Teresa Reich, whose field I usually park in, always tells me, "come sleep on the couch when you get cold, crazy girl!"

All summer at Leoni, I slept in my hammock, hung up under the deck of the lodge or on top of the 40 foot climbing tower. For the first few weeks, I woke up with my heart pounding from coyotes howling. I was terrified the first time I heard them; the echo created by the building made them sound like they were directly underneath me. I moved my bed into the lobby.  But by the end of the summer, I was running out into the meadow to yell at them to stop yipping!

The reason sleeping outside works is because it makes my brain stop worrying about the things that worry me and start to worry more about staying warm (or getting eaten by the wildlife).

It's just me out there. What a grand adventure, finding out I made it through the night when I wake up covered in all the leaves that couldn't hold on any longer, and let go in the middle of the night.

let me communicate this thought to you.

My friend Mark McMillan is more wild than dirt. Mark also has wild ideas. And he told me about one the other night when we crossed paths on College Avenue and sat down on the cold grass. 

He and his best friend (also named Mark, for novelty purposes I'm sure) had just gone on a backpacking trip that weekend where they did not speak to each other, by choice. They purposefully walked into the wild and planned on not saying a word to each other. 

As a student who has studied communication for the last five years, this made my heart rate speed up.  

Because I've always been taught that you can never be void of communication; communication is unavoidable. Even if you are silent, you are communicating a message. Even if you are holding still, you are communicating a signal. 

And tears began to well up in my eyes and I was wringing my hands saying, "That is so scary! I could never do that!" It was the end of a long couple weeks that had been filled with choppy communication with my family, my best friends, my God, and no communication at all with others; the final being the worst and most apparent. 

"Maybe that means you should try it!" is what he says, laughing that I'm so distraught. I could just imagine myself on top of a mountain with Mark, bawling my eyes out because I just want to know if he wants me to help him set up the tent! The uncertainty of the situation would kill me.

How many times have you just wanted someone to tell you what to do? Tell you how they are feeling, what they are thinking, planning, creating, wanting, hating, loving...

Imagine if you suddenly couldn't speak someone you're in a relationship with? What if they never communicated to you what irritates them, what they expect? What if you were the one that couldn't communicate a thought to them, a desire or a dream? Oh man, I can't believe I'm writing this, watch me start to panic again! The uncertainty would kill you. 

Uncertainty is the reason I walk away from relationships, friendships, job opportunities, new flavors of potato chips and alpine skiing. Because we just don't. know. the. outcome. 

It's why I have walked away from God in the past. Communication fell through the cracks in the floor and it felt so over. That's what walking into a vast wilderness and being silent the whole time means to me. But Mark and Mark didn't come to the end of their friendship out there on the trail. 

"It was such an incredible peace that came over us." Simply dwelling in the proximity of a friend brought peace, and not the kind that comes from communicating problems, questions, statements and thoughts out loud. But the kind that makes you feel comfortably safe in the presence of another being. Communicating your true self, how you are right then.

God communicates with us by "not" communicating sometimes. And hikes the mountains with me and you in silence when we can't talk about it, don't know what to say, or need to process everything in order to make our decision. He simply walks with us, carrying the packs and listening to the sounds of our heartbeats.

stop this train.

Midnight ride to Bristol. 2010.

I am SO AT A LOSS as to what to put down in words! Everything is a'jumbled and out of order. Like a tangled ball of yarn. Or the current state of my dirty hair. Turned my phone off. Heated up my cold coffee. Told someone to stop before they started. Blew out the bathroom light bulb. Arrived to the day, fresh at 5:30. Scraped ice from the windows. Spray painted a table. Ran through Home Depot...again. Hand washed sweaters in the tub. Prayed so helplessly for help. For others. For me. For generosity and broken hearts. Need a boat, need a plane. Need to be off this train.

be still.

It's early and I'm sitting at my desk at work. Everything is really quiet- the space heater is humming by my feet. Outside, it's frigid. There's lots of apple slices and peanut butter and coffee within my reach. And I'm feeling calm- like everything is under control. But not my control. Exodus 14:14 says, "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." In reality, there's still a lot of things on my to-do list, and I've been scrambling hard and staying up too late, waking up too early (ooooh that sounds like a Jack Johnson song!) trying to fit everything in. Trying to get it under control! It perpetually feels like the last leg of a long race, where my lungs are deflating quick with the finish line always just out of my reach & there's an army of insecurities, activities, obligations, fears, and dreams chasing me down. But Jesus says to be still. Stop in the middle of the road and let those things come at you, don't be afraid; He's fighting.
So I'm just gonna sit here. Real quiet. And let Him do what He can, while I do what I can.

mountains.

"Take advantage of the opportunity to turn the page and start out fresh. You can do it, I believe in you. So move forward and don't be sad about the past. We're done back there. Its not worth your attention or your regret. You should go mountain climbing. Stop talking about how you want to go do these things and just go do them! Follow through! You are a STRONG CHRISTIAN WOMAN and you need to just wrap your head around that fact. Seriously. Okay. Now." - A letter from Victoria. 

experiencing salt.

Lacey, Daniel, Courtney, Kevin, Spencer, Kjohn, J-Hards, Greg, Nick, Mark, and Carly. Just a few salty people :).

Matthew 5 says that we are the salt of the earth. We are flavorful and should bring that out in others, too!

And the people in my life are so salty! They are SO GOOD. They are gold. My family is encouraging and always anxious to listen to me. My schedule is water-tight, no spaces. Yesssss okay, this is reality! but people are SO GOOD, and that  is reality too and they spread sunshine on my life like butter on bread in the summer heat. --it melts, and drips and soaks in. Oh, it's good. So good.

I've found that if I just sit near Sean while I do accounting, I do better! Sometimes all you need is someone that supports you and tells you that you can do it. And Sean, who is an accounting major, obviously knows I can do it because I've been blazing through assignments, asking intermittent questions and getting them RIGHT. Holy cow- who knew I could do math! And his words of encouragement, "Becka, I will help you WHENEVER you need it. You'll do great!"

John Lubke was visiting last week and simply his presence made day-to-day living a little richer. He is an amazing human being. It was a blessing to have so much time to talk with him.

Janae, my roommate, crawled into bed with me at 5:30am Thursday morning, whining and mumbling, "MMMMmmmy feet are cooooollddd." And we wrapped up in all my quilts and slept in warm contentment before she took off for class. My other roommate KD always checks on me throughout the day, with texts like "Hey giiiiiirl! How's your day?! Tell me if you want coffee! You hungry?? I love you, giiiiiiirl!"

People are feeding me. Let me tell you! Short story: Last school year, I was dirt poor. Church mice made more than I did. My prayers through the times I had no money went something like, "Abba, please send me my next meal. And if you can't do that, send me money and I'll make it myself. You da best. Amen." Usually something would show up. The University campus is a fantastic place to be to get free food. Because it is full of fantastic people and fantastic events.

Trevor brought me a haystack for lunch on Monday, Nick made me lunch yesterday (and fixed my bike tire! without me asking him to. What love!). Yesterday, Savonna (my co-assistant for the Spiritual Department) in the middle of a long 8-hour haul, gave me homemade bread, vegan enchiladas and frozen yogurt. Dean and David made brownies in my house last week and gave us most of them. Janae is always cookin' up noodles, and shares without hesitation. Becky gave me a honey crisp apple. KTW brought me ICE CREAM while I was whirling away at accounting balance sheets. Wednesday, Sean gave me his waffle stacked high with peanut butter and applesauce. It was the first thing I'd eaten all day and it was worth the wait!

People make me laugh. Laughing is important. My favorite thing is when I walk into family dinner and everyone is happy to see me. It changes my entire universe. It makes laugh a fully-happy laugh. Their little faces! I can't get enough of them! Family Dinner is one night a week where all us friends get together and eat at one of our houses- every community of friends and family should do this. Our friend Chad is here from Alaska, and when I saw him, my heart laughed for joy and so did everyone else's.

God is good. People are good. And right now, they are reinforcing my faith in humanity. Perhaps it's Jesus, since He is intuitive and knows I become hopeless easily. He is hot on my trail, coming to find me out here in the middle of wherever I am.

Risha's Law

If there is one person I want to be more like, it would be Risha. She lives in a beautiful yurt with her puppy, works at a hospital and taught me how to swing dance. Risha was my counselor at Camp MiVoden in Idaho about 9 years ago now. But as life so happens, she's become one of my closest friends during the past 6 years I've lived in Walla Walla. Her spirit of love for the outdoors, animals, adventure, creativity, independence and God; they all inspire me. She allowed me to come to her when I was young and dump all my insecurities out on the kitchen table so we could sort through them together. I'm not sure if she wrote these little life rules, but she exemplifies them all. 

1. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.
2. Memorize your favorite poem.
3. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.
4. When you say, "I love you", mean it.
5. When you say, "I'm sorry", look the person in the eye.
6. Be engaged at least six months before you get married.
7. Believe in love at first sight.
8. Never laugh at anyone's dreams.
9. Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt, but it's the only way
to live life completely.
10. In disagreements, fight fairly. No name calling.
11. Don't judge people by their relatives.
12. Talk slow, but think quick.
13. When someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and
ask, "Why do you want to know?"
14. Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
15. Call your mom.
16. Say "bless you" when you hear someone sneeze.
17. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.
18. Take one day at a time.
19. Remember the three R's: Respect for self; respect for others;
responsibility for all your actions.
20. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
21. Get organized so everything has its place.
22. When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to
correct it.
23. Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your
voice.
24. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, his/her
conversational skills will be as important as any other.
25. Spend some time alone.
26. Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.
27. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
28. Read more books and watch less TV.
29. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back,
you'll get to enjoy it a second time.
30. Trust in God, but lock your car.
31. A loving atmosphere in your home is so important. Do all you can to
create a tranquil harmonious home.
32. In disagreements with loved ones, deal with the current situation. Don't bring up the past.
33. Read between the lines.
34. Talk less; listen more.
35. Share your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality.
36. Be gentle with the earth.
37. Pray. There's immeasurable power in it.

worth it.

<<<<----------

Death isn't ideal. But isn't this always how you feel when you are not doing something you love? It's how I feel in Accounting class. Every. Day.

You start to question whether what you're doing is actually worth it.  Is sitting in this classroom ever going to translate to doing something worthwhile in the real world? Will you be able to create something that will stick around after you're gone. Shoot son, don't we all just want to live full, happy lives? We so, so do!

I'm not happy in Accounting class. When I'm feeling disconnected from God (which is often). When I'm stuck at work when people are out climbing rocks and mountains. When I'm not with the people I love. When I'm poor. When I'm feeling inadequate. When I can't have what I want. When I'm not enjoying the life I've been so graciously given and making the most of it.

But the things that we don't like to do, those things are important, too, I think. How would we learn to really appreciate and cherish the things we love otherwise? Living a life you did not expect to live, one you didn't plan, is important to live! They build tenacity. They build trust in God. I don't know where I'm going with this. But it's been on my mind like the weight of a big rock. My schedule is crazy. My classes are hard. My jobs are demanding. And I'm wondering if it's actually worth it.

sometimes crazy.

Pickwick kicks it up a notch at Doe Bay, 2011

One of my good friend, Shay Reynolds, wrote this poem a long time ago and it's so how I'm feeling right now...

I feel like drawing on my face
then flirt-- with anybody
I want to run off my body until only I am left
I would like to surf on a field of smiling daisies
Anywhere but here with another paper to write
My life is as boring as flies
I wish I was crazy sometimes
because at least then
I could rationalize
climbing every
tree I
see

who made it all.

When people talk about near-death experiences, I’m always like “wow, that’s really crazy” and I don’t really think about it afterwards. I don’t really take them seriously when they say “God saved me.” It’s probably cause I didn’t have a near-death experience until this past week, when I was surfing at Pacific City in Oregon. I’m not the best surfer in the world. I do not “shred”. It’s a big deal if I stand up and stay standing for more than 8 seconds. But I love surfing, the pull of the ocean is wild and magical. And I want to be a part of it. So I never ever pass up an opportunity to go.

Matt Randall (my boss and friend) and I woke up at 4am on Saturday to drive the 6 hours to the coastline where our friends were already waiting. We struggled into our wetsuits, grabbed boards and made a break for the water. I paddled out by myself, caught a couple, STOOD UP!!, and fell down a few times. It was so perfect.  

Then came a lull in the surf, and Lorren Libby, Matt Randall, Jordan Harder and Shawn Wilkens plus little tiny me paddled out. Then came the waves- HUGE ONES. And we went up & over them like a slow roller coaster. The water was freezing and I was glove-less. I watched the guys disappear over the hills of water and I thought “How am I supposed to get back to shore??” because I knew I was way too inexperienced to actually surf back in. I thought maybe I could get myself placed perfectly enough to slide into the white water of a wave break.

But it took me out, hard, before I could catch my breath. The water was ripping me to shreds like I was tumbling in a clothes dryer. All I could think about was my board coming back to smack me in the head and knock me out or a fin slicing my face. It’s hard to figure out how much time you’re under water, because it feels like an eternity. I popped up and couldn't feel the sandy bottom with my feet- I’d swallowed so much salt water I could hardly breathe.

I had just enough time to scream “Maaaattt!!!!” knowing he couldn't hear me before another wave crashed over the top of my head. In the middle of it, I thought “I can’t hold my breath anymore, I'm exhausted…oh my goodness, am I going to drown out here?” Millions of seconds seemed to race by me, while I tried to fight against the water. But again, I came to the surface with another wave coming at me.

I looked at it hopelessly, with the wind knocked out of my lungs, and whispered “Jesus, please do something.”

It took me out just as hard as the last two and pushed me far enough up the shore that I could stand, but it was difficult to walk. My feet stuck in the sand and my eyes were cloudy from the salt. My lungs could not get enough air and my head was pounding. I dragged my board up and lay down on the beach.

What if I hadn’t been able to hold my breath any longer? How could anyone have known I was out there? Or could have swam in and pulled in me out in those monster waves? I don't want to think about it!

So yeah, it is pretty crazy. God and His life-saving business.

accounting is hard.

I drove home today so I could sit in my own kitchen and work on my accounting homework, which I have to take for my last-minute Business Minor & which is also about as fun as hitting your head repeatedly against a brick wall. My parents have been cleaning out our garage and finding all kinds of good stuff- like old journals, pictures and letters from their college days. And while flipping through her poetry journal (how beautiful is she! A poetry journal!) from years gone past, my mom found these appropriate lines:

Never ask of money spent

Where the spender thinks it went

Nobody was ever meant

To remember or invent

What he did with every cent.

-The Hardship of Accounting
 by Robert Frost

The time capsule in our living room

Mom standing on the top of the wall around the girl's dorm at WWU

Baby Bernie!

solid ground.

You were cold as the blood through your bones
And the light which led us from our chosen homes
Well I was lost

And now I sleep
Sleep the hours that I can't weep
When all I knew was steeped in blackened holes
I was lost

Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn

And I was still
I was under your spell
When I was told by Jesus all was well
So all must be well

Just give me time
You know your desires and mine
Wrap my flesh in ivy and in twine
For I must be well

Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Well keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn


-Mumford. Below My Feet.