FWF

It pours on me
sometimes.
The skies open...
on purpose, I'm convinced.
And I'm gasping for a single breath
without choking on it all.
And the drops pelt every inch of me.
Until I can not bear another sensation
On my skin.
I feel like clawing at my body with the very
maddening nature of it all.
Then with an almost audible snap,
it shuts.
I dry slowly with time,
Then just to be cruel--
am not given a single drop more--
till my dryness is slightly uncomfortable.
Then nearly unbearable.
Where all my skin feels chapped.
And I imagine that all of it will chip away.
And I'm completely stagnant
Not wanting to move for fear of drying out further.
It's then that I think of you.

First published 11/20/2010

The Feeling

The later in the day
The stronger the feeling gets.
And my thoughts are filled with dancing girls
With sexy silhouettes.

And all at once I'm in the scene,
No longer in year two thousand fourteen,
But transported to a time long unseen
In New Orleans the summer I turned nineteen.

I see the bar through the haze of smoke
A group of friends laughing at some joke
And there I am so young and free--
'Smart and pretty,' like my momma taught me.

The night is hot, and the air hardly moves,
But we dance anyway in the crowded room.
We hug and we kiss and we drink and we play--
Confident that it would always be this way.

We were young, and we were dumb.
We played hard; we had fun.
We loved deeply and gave freely.
We slept long and studied measly.

I see all the faces when I close my eyes
And hearing them all singing makes me wanna cry
Just remembering and feeling it all over again
Me not knowing so not caring that this was the end

Early Christianity--Letters of Paul; Done

So for the last month I have been consumed with the letters of Paul. I signed up for Early Christinity course through HarvardX for free! It was definitely a unique learning experience for me, as I was taught by watching videos and annotating texts on rap genius.com and participating in discussions as part of my assignments.  I learned so much about Paul and of the time in which he was writing, but the most unexpected part of this class was how many ancient/ historical and contemporary texts outside of the NT writings we had to read. It was incredible! (I even shared some excerpts of those texts here and here). It enabled me to gain an understanding of the new testament that I probably would not have gained on my own study.

I mean I read 1 Corinthians at least 5 times in a 10 day span. Talk about delving deep. I read it searching for meaning for freedom and slavery. I reread it searching for the role of women. I read it yet again to gain an understanding of the value for wisdom in the 1st and 2nd century. I read its prescript. I read to evaluate Paul's use of rhetoric. I'm telling ya, I have read it in NIV, NABRV, NAB, and NRSV translations.

I would devote 6-8 hours of reading for a single class. Knowing that in 2 days, another 8 hours of reading would be assigned to me. I read from the deuterocanon. I read from disputed texts. I read from heretical texts. I read from Jewish histories. I read from Aristotle, Polybius, MLK Jr., and Josephus. I read and read and read.

And what did I gain from all this endless reading?

A deeper understanding of life in the 1st and 2nd centuries CE.
A respect for Paul and at the same time a disillusionment, in his teachings and in his message.

But most of all, I developed a yearning for the Word.

I'm telling ya, when the course started, I was overwhelmed with reading of all these letters. I was pushing through them-- carelessly annotating them with generalities and obvious observations from the texts. But as the weeks went on, I became used to the reading of these difficult ancient and biblical texts. Then toward the end, I couldn't wait for my next assignment. It was as if I were left empty until the next wave of readings were announced.

Now that the class is done, I'm searching my shelves for what to read next, but nothing jumps out at me. I know I want to read something spiritual, but I miss the community, and the discussions, and the forums, and the debates. I miss gaining knowledge not just from the professor but from the teaching fellows, from my peers, and from the research i did outside the class.

I want more.

Real Strong Women

Real strong women,

Independent

Liberated

Smart

Bold

Empowered

and

Enlightened,

Value Life. 

Polybius Histories--Insight to the darkness within

Spendius and his men then led out from the camp Gesco and the other prisoners, in all about seven hundred. Taking them a short distance away, they first of all cut off their hands, 12 beginning with Gesco, that very Gesco whom a short time previously they had selected from all the Carthaginians, proclaiming him their benefactor and referring the points in dispute to him. 13 After cutting off the hands they cut off the wretched men's other extremities too, and after thus mutilating them and breaking their legs, threw them still alive into a trench.

81 1 The Carthaginians, when news came of this unhappy event, could take no action, but their indignation was extreme, and in the heat of it they sent messengers to Hamilcar and their other general Hanno imploring them to come and avenge the unfortunate victims. 2 To the assassins they sent heralds begging that the bodies might be given up to them. 3 Not only was this request refused but the messengers were told to send neither herald nor envoy again, as any who came would meet with the same punishment that had just befallen Gesco. 4 With regard to treatment of prisoners in the future, the mutineers passed a resolution and engaged each other to torture and kill every Carthaginian and send back to the capital with his hands cut off every ally of Carthage, and this practice they continued to observe carefully. 5 No one looking at this would have any hesitation in saying that not only do men's bodies and certain of the ulcers and tumours afflicting them become so to speak savage and brutalized and quite incurable, but that this is true in a much higher degree of their souls. 6 In the case of ulcers, if we treat them, they are sometimes inflamed by the treatment itself and spread more rapidly, while again if we neglect them they continue, in virtue of their own nature, to eat into the flesh and never rest until they have utterly destroyed the tissues beneath. 7 Similarly such malignant lividities and putrid ulcers often grow in the human soul, that no beast becomes at the end more wicked or cruel than man. 8 In the case of men in such a state, if we treat the disease by pardon and kindness, they think we are scheming to betray them or deceive them, and become more mistrustful and hostile to their would‑be benefactors, 9 but if, on the contrary, we attempt to cure the evil by retaliation they work up their passions to outrival ours, until there is nothing so abominable or so atrocious that they will not consent to do it, imagining all the while that they are displaying a fine courage.10 Thus at the end they are utterly brutalized and no longer can be called human beings. Of such a condition the origin and most potent cause lies in bad manners and customs and wrong training from childhood, but there are several contributory ones, the chief of which is habitual violence and unscrupulousness on the part of those in authority over them. 11 All these conditions were present in this mercenary force as a whole and especially in their chiefs.

Eucharist-- at the very heart of the Catholic Faith

"Many ecclesiastics want to make me known through sophisticated arguments and complex reasonings,  forgetting the Eucharist, which is my very substance, and the sublime simplicity of the Gospels, which I proclaim. This is like throwing mud at simple people." (Cf. Message to Julia Kim, September 22, 1995)

"My feets is tired, but my soul is at rest."

I've been reading the Martin Luther King's letter from Birmingham jail for the course on Early Christianity.

The exercise was to compare Paul's letters from the 1st century with that of MLK in the 20th.

But so many profound statements were made during MLK's letter that I found myself crying many times before I finished my reading, which took me two days to complete.

I have been feeling in my heart that God has more in store for me--that he made me capable of more than what I've done thus far. I have been so unsettled recently with just the need to make something happen.

So coming across this quote of an older black women during a very dark period of civil unrest in the south, "My feets is tired, but my soul is at rest." I was instantly inspired. 

My God!  I want to feel that. I want my soul to be at rest with the peace of knowing that I worked tirelessly for the Lord.

Get Motivated! 

St. Catherine of Sienna said, "We we become who were are called to be, we will set the world ABLAZE!"

I've written it before, but I write it again!

Be Motivated!

where am i

I've a few friends who have posted what they read in 2013.But for the life of me I can't figure out which books I read last year or didn't read last year. It's like every book I've read is so fresh in my mind it feels like just yesterday that I last laid it down. 

Anyway I feel inclined to at least mention what I'm doing now and why I'm doing it. 

I'm currently reading: 

David Copperfield 

Stiff--the curious life of human cadavers

The Peacemaker--a biblical guide to resolving personal conflict

I'm reading david Copperfield because it's a classic and every so often I like to sharpen my classic reading skills. It's slower and sadder than books today , and I love it for that. 

Stiff, because it's interesting and morbid. I find it irresistible. 

The peacemaker, I'm reading because I have to figure out what I want more--respect or peace. 

I'm also taking a course online. It's called Early Christianity: letters of Paul. I'm doing this because I want to get my master's degree or a graduate certificate and I feel like I need to start getting used to academia. This is a certificate course not one for credit, but it's only to get me going. 

I can't just keep reading for no reason and storing knowledge with no outlet and no respect. Who cares if you're smart? It's all about what your stupid linked in profile says you are. 

FWF

I've moved on.

Well, sort of...

It's just that your memory and your impact-- lingers.

It festers really.

Like old bones that hurt in the cold or

Like an old wound that shoots searing pain at random moments

Or like a ghost limb that itches regardless of its amputation.

I've written this a million times.

I've thought of it a billion times.

Why did you do it?

Was it a game to you?

Did I hurt you so badly that you wanted to make me pay?

Did I mean so little to you that you didn't even care how your actions would hurt me?

Destroy me?

Destroy my family?

How was it going to end?

I left because of you… did you know that?

And I'm glad I did--most of the time.

My friends.

It's the "I'm calling just to chat"
The "wanna go to Barnes with me?"
The "Oh My Goodness, let me tell you what happened..."
That makes a friend.

The back and forth,
You come to my place and I'll come to yours.
The "have you seen this movie?"
The "watchu doing after church?"

Thank God for friends who think you're funny
And who can crack you up.
Thank God for people who WANT to spend time with you.
Thank you Jesus for my friends.

I needed my mommy

I called my mom after church today. 

The events of this morning probably would have stayed with me all day. Maybe even all week, but what my mom had to say helped me break free of the insecurity and embarrassment that immediately follow a mess up on stage. Not even my husband can lift me up from the depths that I fall when something like that happens to me. 

I have to find a lesson in these types of situations. This will not be my last Sunday when I mess up on stage. I have to find a way to understand that it really is no big deal. 

It's just at the moment it doesn't feel that way. It feels mortifying. I feel compelled to flee. Just run away. Crawl under a rock. And cry. 

Reminiscences of the Exodus

Inhale deeply
The sweet smoke
mmMMm
The cinnamon and myrrh
The cassia, calamus, and oil--
Of the finest pressed olives.
Yes! I remember this.
It's been so long since I've smelled
An aroma pleasing to God.

FWF

"Little Girl," the old bear growled,
"Come quickly!
Tie your shoes!
Close your mouth when you chew!
What was that sound?!!?
Did you wipe!?
Hurry up!
You're acting like such a brat!
What did I SAY?!?!..."
On and on it went--
With the young girl and the bear.
Each day she heard the rumblings of the Old Bear
Each day she prepared herself for the attack
Each day she defended herself against the claws
Each day she waited patiently
And each day
The Little Girl grew an untraceable amount.
Then one day the Little Girl,
Now strong and smart and quick,
Left.
And the Old Bear cried.

Mommy Lesson #1: Do not trust your 1st grader to tell you the correct time

Today, Lia arrived at school 15 mins after the tardy bell sounded.

And it was all due to a grave error in judgment on my part.

Drowsily hearing Lia thumping around downstairs, I get up to ask her, "Lia baby!?!??"

"Yea" she replied

"What time is it?"

"Um let me check……it's 6:40"

"Ok baby thanks!"

I stayed in bed for a while after that, wondering why we were having such an early start to our day. Grabbed Maggie out of her crib when she cried and brought her to lay with me. We read books. Lia joined us. We chatted. Hung out. Then lazily I grab by phone from the charger and FINALLY notice the true time.

It was 9:15 in the morning!!!!!

NO way in the world did HOURS go by. It was more like 8:40 when she checked the time. Talk about 0 to 60! We were out of bed, dressed, packed and at school by 15 mins later. Did I mention that school is 10 mins away?

The Bhagavad-Gita (Ch. 2 v 47-49)

You have the right to work, but for the work’s sake only. You have no right to the fruits of work. Desire for the fruits of work must never be your motive in working. Never give way to laziness, either. Perform every action with your heart fixed on the Supreme Lord. Renounce attachment to the fruits. Be even-tempered in success and failure; for it is this evenness of temper which is meant by yoga. Work done with anxiety about results is far inferior to work done without such anxiety, in the calm of self-surrender. Seek refuge in the knowledge of Brahman. They who work selfishly for results are miserable.
-As quoted in Franny and Zooey

FWF--my first attempt

Death and Rebirth:

I was feeling dead. Or so close to dead that that awful, desperate struggle-phase was in full swing. Basically, I was desperate for rescue.

Funny how my death and rebirth all revolve around words. They are my center. It was words that tried (perhaps unwittingly) to slay me, and words that rejuvenated me.

What do you do when your muse has died?
Not an elegant, whimsical, fantastical death
Of a beautiful, fair, faerie-type creature
Gracefully limp upon her chaise--
Hair in bright auburn waves
Still vibrantly flowing upon her brow.
No.
I mean a dried and shriveled body
Laying stiffly upon a dusted floor
Neglected and almost obscenely deceased.
What do you do then?

Why am I posting so much rubbish?

I've been told that I read a lot, but I'm starting to think that I read a normal amount for a person who loves to read. I'm not particularly fast at reading. I just devote a lot of time toward it.

Franny and Zooey--one of the greatest things I've read.

"I'll tell you one thing, Franny. One thing I know. And don't get upset. It isn't anything bad. But if it's the religious life you want, you ought to know right now that you're missing out on every single goddam religious action that's going on around this house. You don't even have sense enough to drink when somebody brings you a cup of consecrated chicken soup- which is the only kind of chicken soup Bessie ever brings to anybody around this madhouse. So you just tell me, just tell me, buddy. Even if you went out and searched the whole world for a master- some guru, some holy man- to tell you how to say your Jesus Prayer properly, what good would it do you? How in hell are you going to recognize a legitimate holy man when you see one if you don't even know a cup of consecrated chicken soup when it's right in front of your nose? Can you tell me that?" --Zooey

I'm telling you this book is an English major's dream

Is it ever enough?

I once read  a quote somewhere that said "The devil is too smart to tell us not to pray. Oh no. Instead he tells us to pray later."

Isn't that the story of our lives?! (of MY life, I tells ya)
"I'll pray later. I'll give later. I'll care later. I'll improve later.
or better yet as Christians we sometimes feel that just by being a christian that I'm good enough. I've done enough. I've given enough.

Although, more often than not I have a very different feeling. I know with every fiber in my being that I'm never really giving him enough. So I keep striving, thirsting, yearning to do so.

Isn't that something?! I try desperately to be more like Christ, to understand God and his word, while knowing that I'll never achieve my goal. But does that mean I should just quit trying? Or just quit trying desperately.

I mean, God doesn't say "give enough to me;" he says, "Give your ALL to me."
He wants every breath--not just the ones we remember to give.

I've recently been told (very lovingly and with much concern) that I run a mile a minute. Asked whether I ever just stop and rest. Told I have too much guilt. Warned against being too legalistic, and it had me thinking, "Is it possible that I'm working too hard to be something I can never truly be?"

I've been thinking so long and so hard about it that I've not actually been able to sleep for the last 2 days--just turning that question over and over in my mind. (So I guess they were pretty astute in their characterization of me :D)

Then tonight as I was searching for new christmas song arrangements for worship in December, I came across a video depicting children who were impacted by war--missing limbs, bodies prostrated in the streets, rags and nakedness and famine and pain. And in my inbox I have the prayer requests of a pro-life ministry I support whose numbers are failing and is trying desperately to understand why. And in my life, I'm never silent enough to pray! So not only are my country and my world ravaged by sin, but my life is void of intentional prayer and peace.

Is it enough to say at the end of the day, "well, God today I didn't do much; didn't do much to advance your kingdom. Wasn't overly generous or kind. Didn't really think about praying or praising you. Kind of did the complete opposite all day, but that should be enough for you, right?!"

Is it TOO much to say, "Father God, give me strength and send your Spirit so that I can do MORE than I'm capable of doing on my own."

That's a pretty scary and intimidating prayer, and I'm debating whether I can pray that and genuinely mean it.

I've just bought Mother Theresa's book, "A Simple Path."
If you want to talk about a woman who was devoted to Christ. In love with Christ. Dedicated to Christ's work, then Mother Teresa is your subject.

If you've ever read one of her books or listened to her speak (just youtube her), I'm sure you'll be struck by her calmness. Blessed Mother Teresa had a peace and joyfulness about her that was astounding--even in the slums of Calcutta with an overwhelming amount of misery, suffering, and poverty surrounding her, she was able to rejoice in the goodness of God.

Mother Teresa reminds me that regardless of the sin and suffering of the world, there is still goodness. There is still reason to rejoice. There is still hope.

And it is this hope and peace that I wish to learn from her so that this desire to be the hands and feet of God can be done efficiently, even-temperedly, joyfully, submissively, un-egotistically...and silently.

This is the day that the LORD has made. We will REJOICE and BE GLAD in it!! (Ps 118:24)

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner. (The Jesus Prayer)

What is with me and this terrible restlessness?!

I'm exhausted, but I fight any and all sleep or rest or peace.

I just keep on the alert. Like a blanket of urgency has fallen upon every aspect of Me, and I'm thinking, feeling, searching, and seeing everything all at once.

well at least I'm reading a great book: