Hiding Place

After I dropped Kathlean off this afternoon, I drove the short distance back to the apartments thinking how amazing it is that I am here. I drove past the front gates and remembered seeing them for the first time, a reluctant 17 year old, sure her visions of going away to school were selfish, impossible and, as some suspected, lacking substance. I finally felt like just about everyone I talked to before the week-long trip-- this was just something I needed to get out of my system. UMW was our last stop and I was counting the hours until we could be back in Williamsburg to go see Flags of Our Fathers.

Little did I know.

I called my Dad as I drove down College Ave. for a quick chat to thank him (and mom) for making me stick the trip out and not making me feel stupid for dreaming. He was at lunch with family and friends ordering water and sweet tea (jealous. Not really of them together but of the sweet tea), so I didn't really get around to the sentiment. We exchanged "I love yous" and I thought to myself how often I take that sentiment for granted.

I was in my parking space at this point.

When we hung up I had that usual feeling, just for a moment, of how it would be nice to be there. Truth is, there's just been a lot I've been carrying on my shoulders. So when the idea that being home sure would help came to mind, I was shocked to immediately counter myself. I thought, "no that's not it." I mean, home would be nice, but it is not what I need. And for the next week, wanting for home definitely isn't the answer. Home isn't it. Home isn't God.

Home is a hiding place for me. It's not for some. What do I tell them? "Well you're outta luck?" Home is a hiding place. God is a hiding place. But home is not God. And if home wasn't, I have to believe God still would be. If I'm going to teach it to my sunday school class of four year olds, I have to learn it for myself.

And I did teach it to them this morning. We talked about Mark 6 when Jesus walks on water. We did a game where they got to pick one thing in the room to stick in a bucket of water and everyone got to vote on if it would sink or float. We splashed around. We goofed off. Then I put the bucket on the floor and the kids took off their socks and shoes (except for the girls with their ridiculously cute tights on). We talked about boats and swimming lessons and storms. I shook the bucket to make waves and they laughed as it splashed over (in small amounts) on their pants and skirts. They made wind swooshing sounds and I explained that the disciples were helpless, scared. I asked them to imagine swimming lessons without an instructor or a wall to hold onto. Paddling a boat without getting anywhere. Defeat. I asked them if their parents would want to help them. It was, of course, a resounding "yes."

"But what if they couldn't?"

It's not a thought that much occurs to children. Or, really, to me. "Can your parents walk on water?" They had to think about it. I do too. One by one they shook their heads "no." "And can you walk on water?"

We tried to, just to get the point across. Each child (except for the precious tights-donners) stepped in and each time the reaction was "ope. You sink."

"Can James do it? ... no. Can Raelyn do it? ... no. Can Ethan do it? ... no." And so on and so forth. Can Sadie do it? ... No. "So you're out in the middle of a big lake, exhausted because you're trying so hard, scared because the boat might sink, and anxious because a storm is brewing. But your Mom can't get to you, your Dad can't get to you, and you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. Is there any hope?"

Of course, as the story goes, there is. Because Jesus did walk on the water and he can. The question of the lesson was "Is anything too hard for Jesus?" The "bottom line" of the lesson is that "Jesus can do anything." It's bolded on my instructors paper. I can't help but think that's not for the kids' sake. They aren't the ones reading the lesson.

So if what I long for (home just happens to be mine, you can fill in your own blank) isn't a hiding place, Jesus still is. Right? Because he can walk on water and I can't. 4 year old psychology, yes. 2,000 year old psychology, still. And I'm going to go with it.

I sat in my parking space and I just wasn't ready to let the moment go (I'm also going to be sad to let the spot go... VIP parking, baby). I needed my hiding place while I had the solitude to go there. I got my Bible from the back seat (ashamedly its residence more often than not) and mulled over it.

Jeremiah 32:17-- "Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you." Appropriate.

Hosea 14:1-2-- "Return, O Israel, to the Lord, your God. Your sins have been your downfall! Take words with you and return to the Lord. Say to him, 'forgive all our sins and receive us graciously, that we may offer the fruit of our lips.'" More appropriate.

Malachi 3:14-- "You have said, 'it is futile to serve God. What did we gain by carrying out his requirements and going about like mourners before the Lord almighty?' But now we call the arrogant blessed. Certainly evildoers prosper, and even those who challenge God escape." Even more appropriate. (after all, how often do I look for my own gain in going about what is required of me and then call my own gains "blessings?") (often is the answer) (arrogant is the word).

Romans 12:7-9-- "If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach... let him do it cheerfully... love must be sincere." (the emphasis is mine, because I feel like there is a "what's stopping you?!" tone there to be noted)

And then I wrote a letter. Really more a journal entry, but on the back of a note Kathlean left under Arkie's windshield wipers on Tuesday. I'm giving it raw here, because sometimes in wondering how to update this thing, I pick and choose what to reveal. It's mostly smart, I think, to show a little censorship. But sometimes it's like I end up writing everything but what's actually in here. I realize it makes me vulnerable. But sometimes you're just vulnerable. And you have to get there to recognize that the ghost approaching your boat is the one person who can mount the water. He's saying, "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." (Mark 6:50)

"God,

Thank you so much for this morning. That first introduction is over and I am so excited to actually meet the youth I'll be working with. I ask you, still, God, to go before me on this-- I still feel sucker-punched thinking about how I'll manage being a mentor the way I should along with being the student and friend I need to be. I feel like I was able to give my undivided attention even when I have so much coming up that is on my mind and my heart. That was you. To have a time when I didn't feel I was letting someone down was nice.

Thank you for those children and the way they just live. As they grow and learn to interact, I pray especially that they learn patience and consideration for each other-- it's hard to be four. But 20 doesn't feel much easier. Sometimes I feel so high school, with groups and clicks and cool kids and people feeling left out and me trying to be everyone's friend, though apparently (it feels) no one's friend all at once. I want to love others. Sincerely. I want people to feel loved and considered. Mostly I want them to know it from you and I crave that from you, too, because left to my own devices I fail miserably. I can't be everything all the time. But I was yours at the beginning of time-- please lead me to what is deserving of my attention. My own failures is not one of those things. Show me your strength. Fixate my mind on that.

Fixate the minds of the youth on that, too, Lord. I so badly want to be effective, if just because I want to see you at work. I want to take my lesson to heart-- with God all things are possible. I hear it from the mouth of those kids and everything seems like not a big deal, I can't walk on water. You can. Period. I need you. You keep me from drowning in a sea of school work and feelings of inadequacy. You give it a purpose when I see no point. Thank you for creating so intricate a world. For this shadow on the paper as I write. So much detail. It amazes me how you see to them all.

It is true I wasn't built for college life. It is true that I just wasn't built for this life. I was never supposed to be so desperate to have my heart heard or my intentions understood. I was never supposed to be so distant from you. It wasn't your plan. But you made a way to redeem it anyway. So when I get discouraged, remind me to enjoy this time even still and not put my hope and joy in the prospect of the future. It's not simply there. Whatever it is. Wealth, happiness, peace, equality, approachability. Breath may not even be there. What I have is right now and you. All I am promised in the future is you. I trust you know how to get there, and I ask your guidance in my approach. Thank you for college, for friends all around me. Show me to handle the small things that build resentment-- the things that build my confidence that this life is not the end game. I thank you for the blessings in my life-- I don't want to be arrogant in my assumption of them. So I don't assume. I thank you, but ask that you take them where they hinder me and my witness. Until "my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness." I don't want heartache, God, but I know it is coming my way because that's just life and this life was never how it was supposed to be. I can only ask in advance that you guide me through whatever is ahead. From hurt feelings to suppressed resentment to death of beloveds and injury-- I need your help as I face them all around me. Grant me a diligent and caring spirit this afternoon in my apartment and be all over my introduction to the youth tonight. I ask it all in Jesus' name and only if you will."

I'm off to write 4 papers, 2 article reviews, study for 2 tests.

But I'll do it from the comfort of my hiding place.

And then I'll go home.

An Essay

In sixteen hundred seven

They sailed the open sea

For glory, God, and gold

And The Virginia Company

For the New World was like heaven

And they'd all be rich and free

Or so they had been told

By The Virginia Company

For glory, God and gold

And The Virginia Company

On the beaches of Virginny

There were diamonds like debris

There were silver rivers flowing

And gold you'd pick right off a tree

With a nugget for his Winnie

And another one for thee

And all the rest would go

To The Virginia Company

It's glory, God and gold

And The Virginia Company

This should earn me an A on my test tomorrow, yes? Hope so because it's about all I've got right now. I think it's quite lyrical. Someone should make a song. And a video. And add in Mel Gibson's voice.

Oh, okay, I'll do it.

Or, rather, the inaccurate cartoonists at Disney will.

I mean, come on, John Smith had red hair.

I could use that in my essay.

-----------------------------------------

"If the savage one is me, how can there be so much that you don't know?"

Eat. It. John. Smith. Oh, wait, in actuality you don't have anything to eat.

Well then, go frolic with Pocahontas (who will eventually marry your friend, who saved the colony by planting tobacco). I mean, have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon or asked the grinning bobcat why he grins?

Smell the roses, man. And for once never wonder what they're worth.

Because you can own the earth and still all you'll own is earth until you can paint with all the colors of the wind.

A Good Fit

So I was thinking I should probably acknowledge last night's commencement of the olympics or possibly even get creative with some thoughts on Valentine's Day and how half the fun of it (for me and right now, at least) is being single.

I even thought of going crazy and finishing up my olympic preview-- but I think I'm just going to admit failure on that front. And, alas, there were college-y things to do, like going to the movies or doing laundry with a deficient dryer or hosting an olympic party or making heart shaped pizza, or, gasp, doing work.

There's a novel idea after 3 1/2 snow days.

So I did those things instead.

But, thankfully, Katie Jones created the perfect post for me, without even meaning to, when she sent me this comic (that she made herself!)

What you need to know is that I spend a good amount of time contorting myself in weird positions (I prefer to call it stretching) in order to bring relief to my hip and lower back. My friends, consequently, spend a good amount of time staring at me

a. confusedly

b. with pity

c. in disbelief

d. disapprovingly

That's a lie. Most of them ignore it at this point and have accepted it as a quirk. Or something.

And though Katie may not "get it," she helps me as I stretch. And not just literally.

And I thank God for such a good fit.

Snowed In

... with this lyric stuck in my head.

"You are beautiful beyond description

Too marvelous for words

Too wonderful for comprehension

Like nothing ever seen or heard

Who can grasp your infinite wisdom

Who can fathom the depths of you love

You are beautiful beyond description

Majesty enthroned above

And I stand, I stand

in awe of you

And I stand, I stand

in awe of you

Holy God, to whom all praise is due,

I stand

in awe

of you."

-Jeff Johnson "Stand in Awe."

As you can see, there are just a few reasons why the song has been on my mind. At least 18 inches worth of reasons.

A Taste Of Things To Come

It seems the more I put a new post off, the more I have to write. Thus, the more I don't want to do a new post. I call it blogger's quandry. You could call it lazy.

But.

I have good reasons for the absence. And, heaven help us, I have a lot of photographic evidence of said reasons. I also have a few excuses that are beyond what I can fit in a pretty photo-- the kind of stuff that comprises a much bigger picture. And, well, God's got that one captured already. So I'll let him reveal it (to me and to you) as he will.

I'll make specifics out of this very vague post when the sun again rises on the flurried grounds of the campus. Right now, there simply are not enough hours in the day morning night. In fact, the only reason I'm writing this much is because I promised dear Bess (who thinks terribly of me after an incident involving Tom Hanks and some show about animal bites and a gap "ad" for AIDS and a certain amount of inappropriate laughter...) and I'm working at becoming a better woman of my word.

So, since it was Jill's birthday on the 4th, and because snow seems to be a big part of the near future around here, I'll leave this with a picture, a taste of things to come...

...Don't Wear It Out

Tonight in my insomnia brought on by a premature nighttime nap that was brought on by staying up until 4:30 to write my paper last night, I give you what I believe to be my best nickname.

On my first day of work, Coco Lopez* got stuck onto my name badge right under "Sadie" and it just sort of stuck. At the time it was just such a relief to realize that I was going to love working with those people and get to know each of them. They have not disappointed.

Well, except for Jordan Bone Thug, my boss, who apparently can't keep records for the life of him and continuously (read: twice) be texting me trying to axe for my address again.

Good thing Coco's got the patience of a caribbean traveler with a few pina coladas down in them.

*It is, so you know, the coconut ingredient we use for any smoothie with coconut involved (Tropicolada, anyone?!)

Got Jack?

(another post I wrote for the consumerism blog... bear with me, school is in full swing!)



In life there are real nationwide tragedies-- and then there are tiny miniscule personal tragedies of no true consequence.

Similarly, there is real life and then there is television.

In addition to this, there are television shows that depict life in real time. When I say "shows" plural, I really mean one show and it is called 24. One small personal tragedy of mine (of no real consequence) occurred in the fall of 2007 when the Writers Guild of America went on strike, and the Screen Actors Guild followed suit, making it impossible for the cast and crew of 24 to work their magic. What resulted was a 20 month absence of Jack Bauer from broadcast television. Perhaps you, also, remember this time.

Again, for the record, I understand that there is a distinct difference between real life and just television. But this particular series had by this time become a part of my life, and its temporary cancellation was deeply (or shallow-ly... you decide) mourned. Until my dad said "Sadie, lift up your head and behold, 24 on DVD" (it was something along those lines). So while there's nothing like a new hour of the exhilarating series, re-watching episodes from seasons 1-6 held me over, and those box sets might be one of my best made purchases.

The show has since resumed regular broadcasting and added a seventh season to its repetoire. If you want to see the story from beginning to present, you can obtain all seven seasons from Amazon.com for $179.99. I understand that this is just not very economical, so you could buy individual seasons at your own pace from $8.95 to $20.48 used or new from $14.99 to $39.99 (depending on which season you buy). Season 7 was the first to be released on Blu-ray at $42.99 new or used from $34.18. If you prefer to buy in person as opposed to online (if only because you do not want to wait for it to ship following its release date), any of these seasons are regularly available at WalMart and Target, occasionally going on sale for $19.99 a piece.

There is no official retailer's warning, but I will have you know that it is highly addictive, so you are going to want to reserve a weekend before you begin watching. Even though I have this show to thank for many wasted hours in front of a television, I have chosen to recommend this item because, jokes of personal tragedy aside, this really is one of the best shows on television, unique in its concept and execution of plot. The real star of the show is not Kiefer Sutherland, who skillfully portrays Federal Agent Jack Bauer, but the real time format. Each hour long episode represents one hour of Bauer's hectic life ridding the world of evil. With 24 episodes, one season represents one full day of Bauer's adventures. If you are thinking it sounds boring, well, you don't know Jack.

Terrorist plots, the threat of nuclear weapons, kidnapping drama, assassination attempts, the struggle to maintain meaningful personal relationships, and more loom over not only Jack Bauer, but also his coworkers, family, and friends. The characters work together to protect civilians, keep the country safe and bring the day to an end by just about any means necessary. While it is not necessarily realistic in that Jack Bauer almost always gets stellar phone reception and can drive across Los Angeles in 10 minutes, the show does engage real issues such as the ethics involved in torture and the politics involved in waging war or maintaining defense.

Ultimately, if it's worth Jack's time, it's worth your time! Forget real life for a while and go get you some Jack...