*sploosh* goes the sun

It didn't fall into the ocean tonight like it used to when I was spreading my wings. Tonight it fell on a hill, past the science building, and through the leaf-bare and brittle maples outside my window. I'm glad I have a window to the west.

First, picture a furry orange tabby cat exploding onto a bed of picked-apart cotton balls (and I hope you picked the name 'Samantha' for her, because it is only fitting).

Now erase that image because it is disturbing (but for some it sounds lovely).

Now imagine the first seeping of color from the painbrush into a glass water cup after painting a picture of Samantha, the orange tabby. Or, picture the tea escaping from an Orange Chai tea bag into an already-warmed cup of milk. Oh! Look! Miss Pastel Pink has entered the scene from the top of the stage. She's just dancing there on top of the fur and orange chai, but she'll twirl right into the mix of action anytime now. And Llilac? I didn't know Lilac was envited this evening. Lovely to meet you, Lilac. Welcome.

Only a minute has passed now but the streaming white has separated into bigger chunks. I have a feeling that the sun has just exhaled. The screaming orange and flamboyant red were the point of no return, like when you think the tunnel will never end and your eyes are about to pop out of your head if you don't take a breath. Now the sun can breathe again...in China.

The ironic part of it all: I watched the sunset through my window hanging of a stained glass cross. I had to look through it to see the vibrancy of the sky. Why? Because something on the other side seemed better than the cross. But, the sun is gone now. The sky is black. The brittle trees even blend into the night sky. And my cross still hangs.

carnage

Well, here he is, Melvin the Incredible. Was it his name that doomed him? I'm not sure if this is the result of foul play or sheer sunshine. I've never disliked the sun so much. The sun killed Melvin. Let us all take a moment of silence.....Ok. Thank you, fellow advocates for a colder environment. 

Melvin

There he sits...alone on the bench, just outside my dorm room window. I would have sat down beside by him, but he was leaking. The next couple of days are going to be quite depressing as I watch Melvin cycle back into the atmoshpere. Circle of life, I guess.

 

flawless routine

"It's not only how he presents her, it's also how she responds to that presentation."

I heard this from the announcer last night as I was watching olympic ice dancing. He was talking about the couple on the ice, obviously. But...his comment got me thinking. That same line of thinking can easily be applied to the Church. How does she respond to the movement of God? What is her technical score? What does her routine look like? Is it tight, in-line, flawless?

The best part of this analogy is this: it's not just about her, the Bride, the Church. Ice dancing takes two people. The lady alone looks lost, incomplete, and just plain silly without her partner. So does the Church. She would just be dancing out there, swinging her arms and legs around, holding on to nothing. She would probably fall. The guy and gal are judged together and scored together on the rink. The Church partners with God and responds to Him. He presents her, but how will she respond?

Did you know that the ice dancing couple loses points for every second they are not touching? I know nobody is keeping a tally, but what would the Church's score look like if we counted the seconds she is disconnected from movement of God?

I hope we see roses on the rink after our ice dance.

if an if was a skiff

What if orange Tic Tacs tasted like carrots?

They look like carrots, but would they taste good with ranch dip?

Probably not...

recently...

I just ate 5-8 Double Stuf Oreo Cookies. (I deliberately did not count them, for obvious reasons.) I've never wanted to go to the dentist more in my life.

This weekend I discovered that I have a deep intrest in Chinese poetry, especially from the "Middle Period," and especially T'ao Ch'ien and Tu Fu. If China had cowboys, these guys would be the Pecos Bills and John Waynes.

My dad painted the floor of the garage with khaki paint, whereupon he used an eggshell and black speckle to add dimension and durability-- Because everybody knows that the "garage is just another room of the house where you park you car." I love my dad.

I also discovered that the words "disposable income" raise my blood pressure and cause my stomach to churn.

The "average propensity to consume" in the USA is 105%. That is disgusting. (I'm actually learning something in Basic Economics... who knew?)

God is calling a lot these days. I shouldn't screen my calls so often. I like hearing from Him.

Flora and I have a new message on our answering machine that goes a little something like this: "Hello, KLRC, you're on the air..." BEEP.

signage

This sign was posted on the podium in my Masterpieces of Literature class:

To All Would-Be

Commode- Cloggers

Four-Flushers

Throne-Blockers

&

Toilet Vandals:

Remember,

GOD

IS

WATCHING!!!

_______________________________________________________

Aren't our lit profs just so great? I mean, who posts something like that? Apparently over-flow is a big problem in the Lit department.

afternoon snack

"Would you like a taste of this?"
"Well, what flavor do you have there, Mr. Herb?"
"Oh, there really isn't a flavor to it," he said as he observed the carton of his apparently vanilla protein shake, a perfect combination with his afternoon snack of cottage cheese.
"You know what, I think I'm fine just as I am," I said, respectfully declining the straw-sip of powder-to-water magic of a shake.
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, though."

Forty-five seconds pass.

"Would you like a sip of this?"
"Well, I think I'll have to pass this time. I had rice krispie treats for lunch. I'm trying to watch my figure, you know," respectfully declining, again.
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir. Thanks so much, though."

Thirty seconds pass.

"Would you like my shake here? It's vanilla they tell me."
"You know what, I'm really just fine. I've got my water bottle here, and it is filling me up just nicely."
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir. Very kind of you to offer, though. Maybe next week when I stop in it will be chocolate. You can bet I'll have a sip of that!"

Thirty seconds pass.

Mr. Herb sucks the protein shake carton dry.
"Oh, I've hit the bottom."
"Sounds like it," I noticed.
"Oh no. What have I done," Mr. Herb horrifically gasped. "I just drank this whole shake and didn't even offer you one sip."
"Oh, Mr. Herb, no bother really. You know, I've been drinking my water here, and I'm doing just fine. Don't worry about that at all. Sounds like you enjoyed it, down to the last drop!"
"I didn't. But you don't understand. Don't you see? You would have found more satisfaction in this than I did. You should have had it. I can't believe myself...not offering you even a sip. You would have loved it...."

Again I comforted Mr. Herb, reassuring him that I'd take him up on the chocolate shake next week.

Mr. Herb won't remember me next week when I bounce in his barren room in the Siloam Springs Nursing Home, and take him for a whirl in his wheel chair. He won't remember that my name is Jennifer and that he offers me his protein shake upwards of 10 times a visit. This is the heart-wrenching dialogue that occurs over and over again with Alzheimer's patients. But I will remember his generosity. Mr. Herb and his "vanilla" protein shake taught me that if I see that another person will find more satisfaction in my wealth, no matter if it is in a carton, on a hanger, or in my wallet, I should offer it. I should offer whatever I have, again and again and again. Mr. Herb is the most giving person I know, even if he doesn't realize it anymore.

foggy jurisprudence

ewwwwww. It's foggy today. The only thing that I like about fog is that it reminds me of one of my favorite "chapter books" from my wonder years. I think the book even came with a locket. Or, maybe that was a princess book. Ah... the glory days. Now, I'm stuck with Law and Jurisprudence in American History. ewwwwwwwww.

VS.


(I don't think Law and Jurisprudence ever won any Newburry Honors...)

Book Description

Greta had always loved the fog—the soft gray mist that rolled in from the sea and drifted over the village. The fog seemed to have a secret to tell her. Then one day when Greta was walking in the woods and the mist was closing in, she saw the dark outline of a stone house against the spruce trees—a house where only an old cellar hole should have been. Then she saw a surrey come by, carrying a lady dressed in plum- colored silk. The woman beckoned for Greta to join her, and soon Greta found herself launched on an adventure that would take her back to a past that existed only through the magic of the fog.

VS.

Book Description

Originally published in 1980, this text was the first casebook in the field of American legal history. It encouraged the formation of the modern discipline of American legal history, sought to create a canon for the field, and is now regarded as a classic compilation. There are two main alterations or additions to this edition. The first is a reworking of the slavery materials in Chapter Four, substituting the testimony of the slaves themselves. The second major change in the book is the addition of materials regarding the impeachment and trial of President Clinton.

...you decide...
I've cast my vote.

smile-wrinkles

I heard the most beautiful laugh today. I was walking down the stairwell in my dorm. A hearty gaffaw billowed through the staircase. It was more than gutteral, it was thick and full of energy. I didn't want it to end. I looked to see who was sending out sounds of such joy, and it was just a girl. Tall girl, I've seen her around. But her laugh...oh my...her laugh. It made me think of beauty. As I continued on my way, my destination became fuzzy and all I could think about was Jesus. I know, strange twist. Why would a laugh send me pondering my Savior? I wondered what his laugh sounded like. I know he laughed...he must have. He hung out with Peter. I even laugh at Peter. But, what did it sound like when Jesus was joyful? Was his a belly laugh? A wheeze? The laugh that never ends? A hissy, leaky-baloon laugh? The silent laugh? What did his eyes look like when he laughed? Did he ever have that 'I'm crying because I'm laughing so hard' feeling? Now I can only think of seeing His face. I want to see the face of purest joy, and feel the purest joy, together with the Creator of the universe. Come, Lord Jesus. Let's laugh together, forever.

whoosh...here I come again.

What's up with the wind? It's like this crazy stong force, but I can't see it. I'm just walking along and it decides to blow my feet right out from under me. I pick up a foot to step and *whoosh* there it goes, whirling off toward the right or left, off the path of my sauntering. You know the feeling.

It happens to my spirit, just like my feet. I'm just cruising along, on fire for the Word of God, every morning, noon, and night. The only thing that satisfies me is the Word. Then, here it comes, without notice or sound. *whoosh* I'm depleated, disinterested, unfocused, lazy. The devil sneaks in like the wind and tries to knock me off course, and just when I feel like my steps are in line. Sneak attack.

But, there's victory in Jesus. He won't let some sneaky, earthly, slithering, scoundrel-of-a-creature have the best of his friend. He's mightier. He will fight for me. He sets my feet on solid ground and says *whoosh* to the devil himself.

That old tune seeps back in....There's pow'r, pow'r, wonder workin' pow'r. There's pow'r in the blood of the Lamb.

It might take all I have to stay focused, alert, attentive, desiring, thirsty. But I wouldn't imagine giving any less. Take my life. Consecrate it. Plant my feet, Lord Jesus....and come quickly. I want to see your face.

phew...

Have no fear, Barbie still makes phones. This phone happened after my previous phone was bit by my car door. Luckily, the color pink has not, nor will ever go out of style. But, living on a budget (new year's resolution), has provided me this gem of a phone. It was seriously the cheapest, oldest, used phone Sprint could afford to sell for an outrageous price.
PS: Please call me. All of my phone numbers were lost in the "incident."

stitches

A piece of the Turkish tapestry now gracefully hanging above my bed. 

excellency

So, here it is...the New Year's Post (just 1.5 weeks late)
I resolve to do things better. 'Intentionality' is the buzz word for me this year. I shant procrastinate....never ever again. I really do want to stick to the to-do list in my head, rather than put it off, put it off, put it off, until I'm crazy. I was challenged by Louie G. at the Passion 06 conference to do things with excellency, all for the glory of God. The end result of my new-found productivity will be more glory for God through my life, I hope. Its not about me. It never was.

In an effort to approach all things with excellency in mind, here are some things I've learned during my first few days of classes. Keep in mind, "Basic Economics" would have gone in one ear and out the other in my old frame of mind, along with anything said in my legal history class.

Toyota has more market shares than GM in the United States.

Jurisprudence can be defined as the 'love of the knowledge of law.'

2001: A Space Odyssey was filmed in 1968.

I think my lit. class should be quite interesting. We're reading Gilgamesh for the first few weeks. Talk about old...It is the oldest recorded literature....ever. Plus, the teacher reminds me of my P.E. coach from elementary school-- redhead with freckles. "I recommend copious amounts of caffeine," he said, when giving tips for staying alert in class.

Other ramblings:
Check out Charlie Hall's new CD...when it is released (1.24.06)

If you have an extra hour on your hands, do the "Kneel" prayer journey. This was offered at the Passion 06 conference, but I didn't get a chance to experience it while I was there.

And, while you're in the praying mood, please consider joining the "21 Days of Prayer and Fasting" with others from our generation, praying for more message bearers, zealous for the Lord's renown. Read about it here

Pleasure doing business with you...

the christmas post

I don't really want to make a long "what's been happening since I finished my fall semester and have been home being a couch potato" post. So, this is a

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESUS!

post. Well-said, jennifer. My family and I are ringing in Christmas in Bernice, Louisiana. The nursing home across the street from my grandma's house is shooting off fireworks as I type this. We are watching the 24-hour Christmas Story marathon. And it is only 9:15pm. Whooo-wah. I heart the holidays.

In other short, abbreviated news: Why do I not feel ready for Christmas? Why on earth would I want to delay this celebration? This feeling comes over me every Christmas. I feel like I want to postpone the celebrations, like I want to get "more in the mood." Shouldn't I be living each day "in the mood" for the return of the Savior? Get in the mood. It is all we should be living for. The Comforter HAS come. We celebrate because we're so thankful God stretched on skin, and because we're so darn excited for his return.

sugarplums

I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep a wink that night, waiting in great anticipation....for new stone-washed-splatter-paint jeans.

Merry Christmas, all. May these merry faces remind you of the source of all giddy smiles, and may you anticipate that great Return of the one that came by way of virgin womb and spent his first night in an oxen's stall.

double take

I walked through a Mad-Lib scene tonight. I shall share:

As I was walking through Barnes & Noble, where I stopped in to by a White Chocolate Mocha to tide me over during the time I arrived in Fayetteville and the time I actually needed to be in Fayetteville to watch my cousin sing in her first Madrigal Feast, I saw my French professor from my freshman year of college, who is originally from Algeria, picking his nose in the Philosophy section; the section where I found my newest tool for procrastination, a book entitled On Bullshit, by Harry G. Frankfurt (a name almost as ironic as the title of his book).

In other untimely and unsettling news, this week I found out that my 3.5(ish) year boyfriend-of-past is engaged to one of my best friends from my past life in California.

Praise God anyhow, and just for that exactly.

Father in heaven, thank you for refusing to be understood only through grand events like powdered-sugar-snow in the early hours of the morning. And, thank you for coming to a stinky stable to stretch on skin and save the world.

clinically speaking

Once upon a time....I was not tired. I'm always tired. I can't even fathom exerting energy, on anything. Dr. Drew calls this clinical exhaustion. Thanks, Doc. Now I have a fancy term that I can throw around to evoke needed pity for my pathetic drudgery. I claim to have Mono. However, this could not be the case for several reasons: 1) Mono is "The Kissing Disease." Ha. no such luck. 2) You usually have fever with Mono. I do not, as far as my inner-thermometer can tell. 3) Wouldn't I be dead by now? Whatever the case, my roomie has respectfully removed her toothbrush from our shared toothbrush holder, and relocated it to the other side of the sink.

So, here's the prognosis: sleep more.

I tried that, unintentionally, actually. Last Wednesday, I fell asleep at 7pm. I awoke at 8am...the next morning. Ooops. Those were 13 hours in which I fell even more behind. Needless to say, my body needs sleep, but isn't so lucky to find it (except that fateful night).

On another note, I just looked across the street (from my dad's house) and saw a Christmas tree, glistening in the bay window of our neighbor's house. I threw up a little in my mouth. What are they thinking? We still have a week before Thanksgiving, c'mon! According to all the sources I've ever read, one is NOT permitted to decorate for Christmas until AFTER Thanksgiving. Ugh. Yes, I'm being Grinchy, with due cause. Then again, a pastor and his wife live in the Christmas tree house. Maybe they know more about that stuff than I do....

Hip-hip-hooray (3x) for warm, clean, towels! My 5th load of laundry is rumbling its way to a static-clingy-ness of perfection. I haven't done laundry in almost a month. My wardrobe was beyond pathetic. One day this week, I resorted to a t-shirt from Jr.High, dirty socks, and the jeans which were going on their 20th day of wear, sans soap. Gross. That smell I kept blaming on the stinky kid behind me might actually have been me.

I don't know a clever way to end this post.

blahhhhhh-blahhhh-blahhhhhhhhhh.

today is normal?

I feel like a cowgirl today. This could have stemmed from a number of sources:
1. I am wearing a brown belt.
2. I recently saw the play Oklahoma! at the Walton Arts Center.
3. I live in Siloam Springs, AR.
4. I participated full-heartedly in a bluegrass sing-along at a nursing home last night.
(There's pow'r, pow'r, wonder-workin pow'r. There's pow'r in the blood of the Lamb.)

Speaking of which, 'What a friend we do have in Jesus.' He is the 'Rock of Ages.' I am today, just as every day, 'Amaz[ed] by Grace.'

I've made the library on campus my home-away-from-home. I like the smell of old periodicles. I suffer from an unstoppable urge to check out as many books as are allowed. (that's 15, by the way). Did you know that Teddy Roosevelt and his brother Kermit went on an expedition through Tibet? I didn't either, until I checked out East of the Sun and West of the Moon. It was in the row of books right by the bathroom. I also checked out a couple others simply because I like their covers. I ended up liking their guts, too. Longfellow, Ruskin, Milton. Interesting collection. Maybe the only thing they have in common istheir last check-out date, before me: the 1960's.

I had a dream that I inherited a mission agency. Is that even possible? In my dream I arrived on the scene where a family had just learned of the death of the founders of the agency. I guess you'd call it good timing, but they decided I was who they had prayed would come and take over. I thought this would leave a pleasant aftertaste when I awoke, but today I've felt even more overwhelmed....about choosing the right agency, about my where to serve, about time committments, about the "real world."

I read about the martyr Nicholas Ridley in preparation for a paper and presentation in a ministry class. He was burned at the stake under Queen Mary, but his body would not burn. He literally had to lean into the fire to finally die.

Bring then, Lord, the fire.
I promise to lean into the flame.

ps: my hair is dark chestnut now. I went to the store for cough drops and came out with a box of #62, Herbal Essence hair dye. Much thanks to Flora. She was right, it did make me feel better than Hall's Mentho-lyptus, cherry flavored. Now, I'm more chestnut flavored.

Partly Cloudy with a Change of Rain

 

SCHWASHBUCKLED!

The invitation read, "An Aristocratic Night on the Town." We got all dolled up, ready to rub elbows with the classy folk. An opera, perhaps? Our only hint was to dress "18th Century and formal." This left me wondering, but I decided on a little 1950's number. We could hardly wait to see what our "high society gentlemen" had planned for the evening!

Little did we know, our plans were thwarted by an unruly gang of pirates! Your eyes are not deceiving you. That is actually a pirate ship. What we thought would be an evening on the town among the classiest of the classy turned into a schwashbuckling of all schwabuckles! The "gentlemen" pulled up in a caravan of cars, with the pirate ship paramount. They threw us into the cars and wisked us away to the mecca of all pirate eateries-- Long John Silver's.

Aye, a rough bunch they were.

The gruff nature of the pirate life was starting wear off on me, even before the meal arrived on deck. I quite liked it...

But they sure knew how to treat a lady. We were served Long John Silver's finest...off of the coupon menu, of course. After a fish dinner, we were shipped off to New Life Ranch. We danced and sang around the campfire, like any good gathering of pirates and piratesses.

We were even treated to some pirate tales of the lost loves and lost limbs. The pirates never broke character! Amazing!

In the end, roasting marshmallows (pirates/college boys don't have money for chocolate and grahams...silly) with pirates isn't all that bad. An amazing time was had by all, aristocrat and pirate alike.

So, Dad acutally does work. Hmph. Interesting....

A day at the office with Dad.

justified napping

glasses are fun

Me, Matt, Henry, and Flora--staying classy...er...glassy...whichever.

breathing felt good today

An old friend came to visit today. I haven't seen this friend in at least a year or more.

He reminded me to bring a sweater. He smells good.

I enjoyed his company today.

His name is Autumn.

I hope Autumn stays.

lagnaippe

In honor of my loyal readership (my twin sister and best friend) and fan club (the afore mentioned), I felt an update was high-due. Thus, the following:

School is hard and time-consuming and everything in between. The kicker: I like it that way. As my dad says, "that's what you're there for." He would be the first to encourage me to make sure all of it is "fun," though. My dad was also a hippie. Hmph...

I'm leading a Bible study with gals from my church. Attendance is shifty, but I feel confident God has me in this position for good reason. I'm learning just as much from the Word as I am from the dynamics and members. "Trust me," He says each day.

Our house plants are thriving. "Lucy" and "Croton" seem to like the window seal and the afternoon sun. I'm careful to watch their rotations and hydration. My late plant, Johnny, is no longer with us. I left him in the care of a friend this summer and he did not return to me, much like his namesake, Johnny Knox, the rugger of my dreams. Alas, I am pouring love and water into my new green friends. They have given me the opportunity to teach my little Latina roommate phrases such as "green thumb." She tried to use the phrase in a non-plant related way. Something to the effect of "we have green thumb crushes." I tried to re-explain, to no avail. I love her.

Speaking of "thriving": I just found a growing mold population on my toothbrush holder. Ugh. I should probably burn my toothbrush. But, its new and soft and un-mushed. I can't throw away $2.47 so easily. I'll continue to brush with mold.

I have perfected the art of procrastination. My pictures from Turkey are not in their album. I have not written thank-yous to my supporters. I am amassing heavy loads of reading for some miracle read-a-thon in the never-near-future weekend. I've put off joining the Frisbee team until an indefinite time because I'm waiting somehow stumble upon "in shape." My car is now brown. It used to be black. Sleep even falls into the "I'll get around to it" category.

Since "participating" in a flag football game on Monday ("play" is too strong of a word), my jammed/dislocated/spranged/broken/shattered index finger has doubled in size. It hurts to type and to flush the toilet. I need a pinch-flusher.

My car is as speratic as my sleeping patterns. It sometimes works in reverse, sometimes not. The A/C works when I go over 3000 rpms. Cruise control is shot. But, it smells like Jamaica on the inside. Or, what I would imagine Jamaica to smell like.

I've been having moments of intense creativity. Sometimes I just want to leave class and go sculpt something out of Play-Dough. Sometimes I doodle out masterpieces. Sometimes I just want to sing an out-of-this-world high A. Most of these moments are spurred on through my Philosophy of the Christian Faith class. Dr. Johnson (through the writings of St. Augustine) is implanting nuggets of pure gold in my mind. "Being free is scary. Luckily, God's willingness to free us is far greater than our resistance to being free." I'm reminded daily to keep my soul listening.

My family and I have dealt with a huge loss. Heaven gained an incredibly wise man. I'm jelous of Dandu. He's seen the revealed Glory, the greatest Physician, I AM, the Bread of Life face-to-face. I'm still waiting...in hope and memory.

Fall break is rapidly approaching. I'm going to visit my dear friend in St. Louis. I anticipate lots of dessert and finishing her sentences. Splendid. We share a brain. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm picky with who I lend my brain out to. You never know, with all the crazies roaming around these days.

Goals for the next week: Find someone to give me piano lessons. Take more pictures. Drop off my resume at the City Library for the "shelver" position. Give more I-love-yous, especially to my Lord. Become an archaeologist.

pity into action

“The police told me to take the water, ‘cause we were thirsty, but the man behind us got shot for taking the same water…”

“There were dead babies all around me, but mamma told me just not to look…”

“My daddy stayed down there because he didn’t want anybody taking our stuff. He said the government forgot about us…”

“Just come and see about us…”

Children echoed these phrases through the evacuee camp, just a few miles from my university. I listened and cried. ‘They have seen more horror in one week than will see in my entire life,’ I thought to myself.

Barely two weeks ago, Hurricane Katrina slashed through the gulf coast, shredding homes, businesses, churches, and identities. Over a million people woke up homeless and hopeless. The Big Easy is underwater, her inhabitants scattered. The same story is horrifically repeated in numbers of coastal towns in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. As of this weekend, people are still being fished out of houses in New Orleans.

My family is from southern Louisiana. While most of America watched the news unfold through CNN, I was forced to watch it unfold at my fingertips. The weekend after the hurricane hit I traveled to Louisiana to see for myself the devastation, and to offer any help I could to ailing friends and family members. I had been numb to the misery until I stepped into fellowship-hall-turned-evacuee camp at the local Methodist church. Only a minute into a three-hour conversation with a 16-year-old girl named Christal, and misery had injected itself straight into my heart.

“I just made the cheerleading squad,” she half-heartedly reminisced. “I don’t think we have anything to cheer for now.”

Her father, Tracy, a pastor in New Orleans, shared a similar observation, “We just finished laying the carpet in the church. My congregation has been saving for eight years to finally have a building to meet in. Now, we don’t have a congregation.”

As I interacted with more children and youth at the evacuee camp, I learned to read the trauma on their faces. Some are still confused, most are angry, and all are wondering where the life they knew has gone.

Effects of the hurricane are far-reaching. Arkansas is seeing an enormous amount of evacuees, even in tiny Siloam Springs, the location of John Brown University. We have over 500 evacuees in my town of 8,000. That’s over 500 people, clinging to all they do not have and desperate for even a pair of shoes that fit. But, I’m noticing a trend. Hope is prevailing. Prayers are being answered and tattered lives are being patched together. Make-shaft support communities are developing among the hundreds of displaced people as older kids looked out for younger kids and mothers wipe away tears from all crying eyes. Communities throughout the south have taken in thousands upon thousands of displaced families, such as Korah and Deac and their two children. They hitched a ride with a group of students from JBU traveling back to school after delivering supplies and food to Gulfport, Mississippi. “Adopted” by a local church, Deac’s family will begin to adjust to life in Northwest Arkansas. Tracy, the pastor, told me he hopes to return to New Orleans one day, but for now will try to start a new life for him and his family in Ruston, Louisiana, building from the ground up…again.

Most of America sits on the unaffected side of the TV screen thinking, “how could this happen in our country?” It did, it’s still happening, and it won’t get any better by changing the channel. As the Body of Christ, we are called to give our extra coat and walk the second mile. An encouraging note, the five pairs of jeans you never wear, your home, your money, your physical aid, prayer—anything is more than they have. Our brothers and sisters need more than our pity. Don’t wait for the next hurricane. Pray fervently and act now.

compañeras

"just come and see about us..."

You must do something.

Don't just watch it on the news. Its real, and the people are in your backyard.

Go and help.

Pray harder than you've ever prayed before.

Prayers are being answered here. I am in Louisiana this weekend. I have family and friends in the area of the hurricane. I came to see what help I could offer. All I had wasn't enough. People are absolutely hopeless here. We are so fortunate to have what we have.

Give your other cloak. Walk the second mile.

When I get back to Arkansas I will be organizing a group of people to come back down within the next weekend or so. Please consider joining me. I think it would be important to attend the disaster relief training provided through the Red Cross. The meeting in on Thursday (8 Sept) in Tontitown. Contact me if you want more information.

In the meantime, pray.

finding myself in "required reading"

"She had never philosophized about the causes of human misery, she was not old enough, she had not the temperment that philosophizes. But she felt intensely, and this was not the first time she had felt the contrast thrust into her feeling between the upper and and the lower conditions of human life. It had been growing upon her until it had made her what Rose called 'queer,' and other people in her circle of wealthy acquaintances called very unusual. It was simply the human problem in its estreme of riches and poverty, its refinement and its vileness, that was, in spite of her unconscious attempts to struggle against the facts, burning into her life the impression that would in the end either transform her into a woman of rare love and self-sacrifice for the world, or a miserable enigma to herself and all who knew her..."

Sheldon, In His Steps

pictures!!!

(drum roll please...)

TURKEY PICTURES ARE UP!

I've finally figured out how to get my photos online. Okay, this has taken a girl like me, who claims to be technologically sound waaaaaayyyy too long to get it together. Sorry.

Please, check them out. I will be adding more tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next day...and...then I'll probably stop.

Now, I would really like to figure out how to link the picture site on the right sidebar of this here blog...Help? For now, click here.

night sky bling

Any star-gazers out there? You should check out the meteor shower tonight and tomorrow night. I won't pretend to know anything about astronomy, but this shower seems to be a good one, from what I've read. God is so great! He even accessorizes the sky with diamond jewelry. Give glory to God as you watch the shower tonight:

"The heavens delcare the gloryof God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands."

Psalm 19:1

florescent blessings

Most of you reading this are probably here looking for updates and reflections of my time in Turkey. Well, you'll have to keep waiting. I'm still processing. I am actually putting together a presentation/talk to give to, well, you if you want to hear it, but mainly to my home church (1st Presbyterian Bentonville) and to the youth group. Soon enough, my friends, you will experience what all Turkey has done in me, soon enough. For now, please enjoy this installment of

"Aldi for One, and One for Aldi" (from yesterday's journal entry):

'Life sits happily in my heart and soul tonight. Something was just "right" about today. I don't really know exactly what it was...Can't put my finger on exactly the moment that all was clicking...but something what "there."

My day was probably this good because I began it by studying the Word (indeed, God whispers to me, that is was so). It was a bit of a haphazard study, but isn't life? It would be nice to have some kind of guide...Maybe I'll just write my own. I had lunch with the Rakes', Mama Thistle, Kayla, Chandra, and Dylan Kayla, my new favorite baby in the whole entire world. We ate at some kind of Celtic restaurant and pub in Bentonville (could be a soft "c," could be a hard "c," nobody will ever truly know). Nice place, I suppose. I opted for the $2.99 salad and soup bar. Not too authentic, but Corned Beef and Hash and the "Shamrock Pizza" just seemed too authentic.

The highlight (I seem to be narrowing it down now) was my stop at The Grove offices. I learned the ropes for my new cleaning job. Dave H., whom I affectionately call "the hairy-legged secretary," showed me the ins and outs of the office and gave me free reign over any dust bunnies, cob webs, mold, dirt, mud, and/or smudge. And, I am allowed to organize! Throw in a White Chocolate Magmum and the offices might just resemble heaven in my mind. What an awesome partnership, serving and doing what I love to do.

I went shopping for cleaning supplies and had a beautiful moment at Aldi. Yes, the Aldi store. I've never been in one before, but plan definitely to go back. Something that I've never seen happen at a market/store happened today. As I shopped among the pallets of off-brand foods and generic merchandise I felt a huge sense of community among the shoppers. I'm not even sure how to describe it. It was like everyone just "knew." Most were there with more coupons than dollar bills. Families, couples, a few elderly. They all seemed to sense eachother's hardships and accepted that each must be carrying just as many burdens as the next. As I stood in line between a tiny Asian woman and an elderly Hispanic man in his Tyson uniform, I observed a man buying snacks for his son's Boyscout troop, undoubtedly. I knew this because the woman behind him in line had started a conversation with him, and I listened in:

"I remember those days...boy, those boyscouts sure can eat a lot....Oh, they'll gobble that down," she commented. "You think that'll be enough!?" she questioned, as the clerk counted 24 small cups of yogurt and 6 or so cans of beenie-weenies.

The lady was obviously a smoker, but how she fed the habit, I have no idea. Her purchases were some pre-wrapped peppers, a box of cereal, and toilet paper. I was allowed my entry into the check-out line graciously by the Hispanic man who insisted I get in front of him because I did not have a basket and was balancing 4 or 5 cleaning supplies on my person. He couldn't believe the price of the fruit juice as he remarked to me, "Only $1! It so good!" as he chugged some more in our wait.

I don't know what it was, but we all connected. I felt the dad's hope that his son's troop would appreciate and like his choice of snacks, even though they were the off-brand; and, I felt how much he hoped his son would not be ashamed that his dad coudn't afford the fruit roll-ups and real Coca-Cola. I was with the woman as she unfolded the coupons to pay for the toilet paper. I was proud, too, with the Hispanic man for his great juice find, and enjoyed that cool, refreshing zing the kiwi coctail provided after a long day at the plant. But, I've never been in the position and place in life as any of my fellow shoppers...and probably never will be.

God made my blessings florescent to me. He allowed me to step into the lives of his children who are not as "stable" as I, and I only wish I could have stayed longer. Our family of shoppers could never have formed so quickly at a Wal-Mart or Target. Excess is too available there. At the Aldi, we were buying the bare minimum, but thankful for even that.'

dern raisins...

I'm home safely. I arrived in beautiful Bentonville at 4:30 this afternoon (that's 12:30am in Antalya). I had quite an interesting time in all of my flights, but it was "uneventful" in regards to missing planes and the such. I'll be posting more about my journey home later. Now, I'm going to enjoy a steak and potato with my Dad, Sis, and bro-in-law. Ahhh...its so nice to be home. Thanks to everyone for your prayers. Get ready for more stories and debriefing episodes as I work through all I've learned this summer throughout the coming days!

Oh, great story about the raisins. Unfortunately, my green bean caserole cannot wait. Let me just say...don't bother claiming them if you ever bring them to the US. Its not worth your wait in customs.

can it be?

How has this summer passed so quickly? No, its not technically "over," but I am finishing a huge chapter of my summer tomorrow. I will be flying to Istanbul tomorrow evening, then continuing on home on the next day (due mainly to a horrible mis-hap with my tickets...ugh.) Turkey will be a thing of the past. I cannot believe it. I have invested two months of my life here, but it only feels like 2 weeks. Tomorrow must last. So many goodbyes to say and double-cheek-air kisses to give...

I have learned so much from this country and these people--things I never expected to learn. Debriefing my brain is going to take some time. Luckily, I've got a good 15 hours of flying ahead of me. The stories will be limitless. Memories of my time here will feed my heart for a good while. I am anxious to share with all of my supporters, but much of me wishes to stay here and continue on in the memory-making. American soil does sound sweet-tasting, though. See y'all soon!

Ephesian for a day

A few days ago Christina, Ryan, Sam and I decided on a whim to head over to Ephesus ("Efes" in Turkish--also the name of the famous Turkish beer). This trip is about a 6-7 hour bus ride from Antalya. We caught the overnight bus, leaving at 11:30pm, arriving at 7:00am...we thought.

Over the hills and through the woods we went, traveling up the western coast of Turkey. I was lucky enough to see most of the countryside because of an unfortunate seating arrangement in which I was placed in front of a 6'5" football player who needed every bit of knee space available. Needless to say, I was in no position to recline, less I wished to shatter his kneecaps.

We arrived in Selçuk, the city closest to the ruins of Ephesus, at 5:30 am. Guess what is open in Selçuk at 5:30am? Anybody? Anybody? That's correct, absolutely nothing. We sat in a sleepy stupor on park benches of the bus lot for about 30 minutes until one of us said, "hey, lets just walk around." We started walking the sleeping city when we realized that Ephesus was only about 3 km away...an easy jaunt at sunrise. So, we headed to Ephesus with the sun rising over the Temple of Artemis behind us (more on the Temple later).

Forty-five minutes and 3km later we had wound our way up the hillside to the ancient city, only to find out that the Ephesians sleep in as well. Or, they must have back in the day, because the park of the ancient ruins did not open until 8:30am. Decision time: do we wait on more park benches, 3km closer than we were before, or, do we meander back to the city and try to find something to eat/do/sleep on.

Then, like the "Icee" sign at a gas station after a long, hot car trip with the fam, we see a half-cracked-open gate with something like "no tresspassing" written on it. Er...I mean, it might have said that...my English skills are slipping the longer I am here... We weaseled through the gate, snuck down some unpaved terrain, and ba-da-bing...we were in the middle of the ancient city of Ephesus...an hour and a half before the city would wake and allow in the rest of the world.

We roamed around, unguided and unabashedly, discovering the city of old. We sat in the empty Great Theater, where Paul tried to persuade the angry mob that yelled "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" for 2 hours (Acts19). We wandered the streets, reading the book of Ephesians, just imagining... It was unbelievable and quite surreal to think that Christianity spread, from the very city we were in, to all of Asia. I carried my Bible in one hand and camera in the other. My finger marked the book of Ephesians, and I would stop every 100 yards or so to read on, like I was reading the letter for the first time. Paul was writing to me, encouraging me, teaching me how to relate with my brothers and sister in Christ, how to live in unity, how to obey and serve, and how to dress myself with the armor of God. I discovered this book again, but for the first time.

Well, an important lesson I am learning in Turkey is that if its too good to be true, it probably is. Security found us. Luckily, we played the "ummm...I'm a tourist...I don't understand what you are saying..." card, and got away uncuffed. We had decided before entering that we would exit when the park opened, buy a ticket, then go back in. We headed for the ticket sales, walked up with our tails between our legs, bought the entrance ticket, and headed right back in! I think that Christina even got a picture of us "locked in," on the other side of the gates, with tourists waiting to enter.

After the park opened, movement was extremely limited. People flooded in like moms into ToysRUs on the day after Thanksgiving. It was hard to find room to breathe. We spent about an hour or so longer in the park, then realized that we had seen the most and best in those twilight hours earlier in the morning. We decided to head out about 11:30, each of us feeling a little more adventerous and a little more Ephesian than when we stumbled off the bus that morning.

The rest of the day we spent as any other tourist group. We got ripped off at "The Virgin Mary's House," where we paid close to 20 lira to see "where Mary retreated after Jesus died," we went to the museum, mainly because it was airconditioned, and we visited the Temple of Artemis. I was told that this was one of the 7 wonders of the world. Could have fooled me. It was a big swamp with one big column in the middle. Aparently, at one point in history, it was the sight of an amazing temple to Artemis, the God of the Ephesians. Now, its a nice home for bullfrogs, watersnakes, and cute little turtles. But hey, 1 down, 6 to go on the wonders of the world list...

Finding a bus home was a whole adventure in itself. I lost it at the bus terminal, as at least 10 agents tried to sell me "best price ticket, lady." I just screamed and they all fled. Seriously. I should try it more often when being mobbed by sweaty men trying to sell me something (it happens more than you want in this culture). Well, we wouldn't be boarding a bus home until 11:30, so this gave us more time than we knew what to do with. We decided to take another bus out to the coast, about 9km away. This was the Agean coast, something else I would be able to cross off the list. We stayed there for a couple hours, wishing we had brought our swimsuits, but getting as wet as one can without one. Then, we went back to the town for dinner in a cat-infested restaurant. Christina hates cats like I hate things that flutter...so she almost couldn't eat her meal. I just threw water on them.

11:30pm came, we loaded the bus, and were off...back to Antalya. Guess who got the seat in front of the giant again...??? Yes, yours truly. But, by this time my feet were throbbing so badly that I could really care less if his kneecaps were shattered by a reclining blow. I popped the "night time sleep aid" shot the seat back, and thanked God for allowing me another day to discover His Truth.

God is alive here. Ephesus wasn't filled with believers that day, like back in the 1st and 2nd Century. Possibly the four of us were the only practicing Christians in the whole city, but God was still there. He is still anxiously waiting for His people to cling to Him, like they once did in that city. Artemis is dead, she never was alive. Her statue is in a museum, with big "NO Flash" sign hanging over her. Her temple is a swamp. She has no power in that place. God has never left Ephesus, but the knowledge of Him has been swept away. I learned from a Spanish tour guide that the harbor actually ran right up to the city at one point, but now had retreated, as I mentioned before, to almost 9km away from the city walls. Polluted rivers had corrupted the land, somehow forcing the Agean coastline away from the city. The harbor was the lifeline to the rest of the world for the Ephesians. Now, her people had pushed this resource so far away that it meant little, if anything, to the life of the city. 'How ironic...' I thought to myself.

:-)

I'm not sure what was so funny, but this shot captured my state of joy and laughter, which I was more often than not relishing in, while my team from Arkansas was here with me. Man, I miss those guys. Can't wait for the picture party!!! This was taken at Zeynip's Kitchen, a favorite spot of ours for home-cooked Turkish goodness. Note: I've joined James in the "steal awesome pics from Brett's blog" conspiracy.

love at first bite

There's no other way to put it...I've fallen in love. It's a beautiful thing. I met him at the Algida stand and my life has not been the same since. We met at the beginning of the summer. Recently, we have been seen around town together at least once a day--twice when its hot out. Er...I mean... Well, things are going great for us, but the end is in sight. I can't imagine us keeping up a long distance relationship. I don't think he will ever come to America....unless I can make a deal with the Schwann's man for a special order.

safety update

For those of you keeping tabs on all the bombing incidents, you are probably wondering if I have been effected (affected? I never know...Ms. Sisemore would be ashamed...). Though Turkey is quite a bit closer to Iraq than the United States, a realization I had a few weeks ago that, quite honestly, gave me chill bumps, I am not close to any of the recent bombings. However, there have been 3 or 4 bombings in Turkey. Antalya is not close to any of the unfortunate cities. İzmir is the closest city where a bomb exploded and it is at least 6-8 hours away from me. I actually have not even heard, through Turkish news sources, any detail of the events. But, I don't speak Turkish, so that's not saying much... Please do not worry about my safety too much. Yes, I'm in what we would classify as "not the safest place on earth," but I am comfortable with the security of this city. Being in God's will is not the safest place one can be, but it is the most secure. I covet your prayers, so pray like crazy!

Oh, and this is a random shot of myself during a sleepless night where I just got too inventive with my digital... I look super sleepy, but its actually just a combination of my lazy eye and my aversion to the flash.

life at the Med

This is the beach where I can be found toiling away, day after day. Ha! We take the Tramvay ("tram" in English) to the end of the railway and we are dropped at this beautiful place. Just a little twist and turn down this hill takes us straight to the Konyaltı Beach Park. The kicker is getting back up the hill in time to catch the tram home!
This is just one of the many uber-schwanky lounging areas at the beach park. I totally don't fit in. I believe I might be the only one strolling through with Chacos on and a hemp necklace. Alas, I stroll on by.
A little taste of the sea... This shot is from the park that I walk through each day en route to the Cultural Center. I take the long way, but it keeps me away from İşiklar, the westernized and European infested street.

out to sea

Squinty eyes and all, here I am on the boat trip we took with our Turkish friends and newly-arrived New Englanders. There is a castle in the background, which if you squint (like I am demonstrating so eloquently in the picture) you can see.
Here we are still in the harbor. The back row, from left to right is Birsen, Ahmet, and Sam. The front row is Lindsey, Pelin, Özkan, Elle, Ryan, and Christina. I am, of course, taking the picture. We sailed for about an hour right at sunset. It was beautiful!

check the shades

This is Pelin and me on a trip back from Side. The bus trip was about an hour and a half from Antalya. Pelin is a really great Turkish girl that I have become close with through my time here. She is in high school, with one year remaining. I stayed with Pelin's family for about two weeks this summer (remember the anti-fan family?). Her parents allow her to hang out with us quite a bit, which is huge. In Turkey, children under 18 are not allowed to be "preached at," in simple terms. It is against the law without parental consent. Please pray for her.