The second round of school. Year number two, I suppose you could say, but there's always a complicated answer to that question. Thus, this is the second round of EMU. Almost a second start, I would say, because of the fact that there is a whole new major in mind, with beautiful opportunities and options. I can't wait! There are upsides and downsides to each new circumstance.
I have chosen Social Work as the major for me. There are so many opportunities and a variety of awesome options right out of college, and I'm so excited for them! The downside, of course, is that the extra science classes I took last fall are now electives, unless I pursue some sort of science minor. I was thinking about still doing a music minor, but I still want to graduate early (oh the competitive heart of mine). So at this point, I'm just focusing on social work, and I'm hoping to take some fun classes like Rock climbing, and drawing or painting at some point, because I deserve to let that art out of my soul. For this semester, I have my watercolor paints (and I FINALLY have a blue!!!) and my sketch pad, so I should be all set, when it comes to things that I need for art outage. Of course there is a piano here, and I'm hoping that living her longer term will produce some sweet inspiration from those keys.
it has been recommended that I recycle some of my songs. Or work them out, so that they aren't all rough drafts, which they are. Many times, the piano part changes with each round of playing, mostly because I improvise the chords and that's just what I do. Some of the songs, though deserve their own unique piano part. I think I can do that. And then I can record.
I just finished up two weeks of glorious loveliness with Zach. He got to come to my house a couple days earlier than planned last week, and then stayed with my family all the way through Thursday, when we left to go to his house, and now I am in Harrisonburg. We did so many things. We went walking and running with my mother, father, and Rocket. We made Engle cookie bars (made into bars by Zach. I was content with cookies), and pizza Hazlett style--on the big wooden cutting board, with a serve yourself attitude. We made bread together, and many smoothies. We spent hours cutting up green beans, blanching these and also tomatoes, which we peeled, and picante sauce. We improvised from my mother's original recipe of chili. And all that was just in the kitchen! Well, that was mostly what we did, besides going to Sarah's house and picking raspberries with her for a little while. We spent a lot of time watching movies that we hadn't seen before that were quite interesting-- The Hudsucker Proxy, Signs, The Sixth Sense, Donnie Darko, and also some that one of us had already seen--Dumber and Dumber. That was very important.
What I enjoyed most about our time together were the conversations that we were able to have. We talked about important things that haven't been able to be discussed for a year, and we started getting to know one another again. We had a few arguments, several ending with me screaming on the floor. . . because he grabbed my foot, pinned it in between his arm and side, and was tickling it without remorse. A couple times my knee popped out of place. . . and then right back in, because I was kicking frantically. We all learn our limits one way or another.
Zach started challenging me mentally with these logic puzzles (he calls them "red herrings") where he would say a sentence, which could be the last sentence of a story, and then I would have to figure out why it happened. These drove me up the wall, but for Zach, we wouldn't do anything else until I figured it out. He looked up Red Herring games on the internet, and found this one that was really challenging that we couldn't get past level eleven on. . .
Zach also went to the zoo with Mom and me, and then met Kristen and her family (she was moving into her apartment in Toledo while we were there).
We drove to his home in Millersburg after I had an epic eye appointment with Dr. Darnell. We went to the Dandelion Seed Company, what you could call a showing of the arts, when we got there. It was a lot of fun, though I was tired from driving, and needed to eat some protein. I enjoyed the music and readings that were shared by everyone there, and realized how nice it would be if there was something like that for me to be a part of here so that I could regularly get feedback for my music.
Now it's time to go to sleep, or move into my room, or something. My eyes are tired, and so is my body. Driving seven and a half hours in one day by yourself can do that to you.
Showing posts with label Zach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zach. Show all posts
Friday, August 27, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Summer Program Week #4
Things are starting to wrap here in Flushing, NY, even though it doesn't seem like it. The attitude of the program has become less stressed as the entire program has become a routine for all of us. Now we are doing it like it's something we've always done. Since week one, we've been averaging in the mid twenties for kids in the morning, and in the afternoon, we've had about ten to twelve kids.
The morning portion of the program includes breakfast and lunch, supplied for free by the city of New Yo. We have a short chapel following breakfast, and by the end of chapel, most of the kids have arrived at the program. As the weeks go on, we can easily tell which kids are going to come late, and which are going to be early, and also which kids will NEVER actually be coming. That is definitely obvious.
After the chapel, the younger kids start arts & crafts, and the older kids play dodgeball. Christa and I help with the arts & crafts, and Daniel leads the Dodgeball. I personally hate the game dodgeball, so this worked out in my favor. Craft wise, we've done origami, lanyard, coloring, drawing, tie-dye and then put fabric paint on a shirt, and next week we are planning to do paper mache, which I'm excited about. Its one of those things that I did a lot when I was younger. I had this spectacular book with all these cool things to do. I was really crafty when I was little, which has bled a little bit into my adulthood, because I love to knit, and not follow patterns, and I love to make collages. I'm not a bad drawer either. I just don't do it that often. Musically, I have been much more consistent with being artistic, because it's like my second language. With drawing, and other types of art, it's like I'm going in blind, like how I feel when I try to speak Spanish. There's this point where I'm blocked off and I can't see anymore. If I really practice, I get a chance to expand and see more, but I haven't really had that option here. I brought my sketch book, just like I planned to speak a lot more Spanish, and then didn't really get a chance to use it.
After Arts & Crafts, we switch over to playing board games until the lunch arrives (Dan and Milton have to go get it). Once lunch is over, most of the parents for the morning program pick up their children on time. Then we get started with the afternoon portion of the day--academics. More often than not, some of the kids have been desiring nap time, so we've given it to those who were interested. But the problem that I see with it is that unless we separate them all into their own individual places, they never sleep, so it's counter productive, because it makes them not listen to the volunteers in the room. After they "nap", we have them read for a little while, and write summaries about it. Then the packets of work appropriate to their age and level are given to them, and they do that until about four o'clock. Then we let them have special activities. We have done drama, music, and baking with them. This usually lasts somewhere between a half an hour to forty-five minutes, and the kids start going home around this time. We have computer on some days, some days we play board games, and on Friday, we watch a movie before they leave. During the special, or during the time that they are doing their work, if there are enough volunteers, some of us clean up, and make the place look nice, so that we don't have to do it after they leave. Some days we even leave before six o'clock, because the parents actually come on time.
For chapel for the last week, we have been teaching the kids a song with motions, and then talking about a fruit of the Spirit that is associated with the song. The Thursday and Friday before last, we did Love and Joy(and I played and sand "Amazing Love"), Then on Monday, we did Peace, Tuesday we did Patience (We did "Trading my Sorrows"), on Thursday we did Kindness (we taught the song about Peter and John healing the crippled man), and on Friday, we did a review.
When we have chapel, the hardest part is getting the kids to stand up when we sing. It never ends. Now that we have musical accompaniment, there's less of a focus issue, but it's still impossible to get them to stand. Sometimes it's the exact opposite, though.
There's this young guy, named Shaquille, who we are pretty sure has ADHD, because of his need to move, and focus so easily switched. He never listens and obviously cannot sit still. Every day we try sometime different. The best solution so far has been to have him sing with us when we teach the song. After we finish every song, he always says "More! More!" He's quite an armful. Sometimes we have to hold him down so that he won't run away, because he does run away. He drives me up the wall, but I see that there is some unfulfilled need for him to see and to learn. On Friday, he was playing dodgeball with the big kids, got hurt, hit someone, then ran away to the bathroom, and one of the volunteers yelled for me. Once we got him out of the bathroom, I took him for a walk around the building. He loved it, and had such a great time trying to and opening doors, and seeing what was behind them. When we got back down stairs, I had him draw me a map of where he'd just gone, and he drew a lot of doors, a staircase, and drew the roof, full of chimneys. (I think because he didn't get to go on the roof, that he was imagining all these chimneys) Then I asked him to draw me his favorite thing. He said music--and drew a guitar, a drum set, a "big piano", and a microphone. A kid after my own heart. When it comes down to it, Shaquille, though hard to understand, and to get to listen, he's quite exceptional. He reads rather well, and if he's focused on something, he will do it. I think when there is too much going on, he runs in circles (literally) because he can't decide what he wants to do.
It's been interesting being in charge of the volunteers. I've never been one to place degrees of separation between people because of the level that they are in comparison to where I am, and so working with the volunteers has been bringing them up to my level. However, at the same time, I know that most of them don't have the exact same experience with kids as I do, in a camp setting, and so I know that they are challenged by the amount of energy that these kids have and the amount of attention that they require.
One volunteer couldn't figure out why he was here. Spiritually, he felt like God was calling him to be here working with kids, but at the same time, he just felt worn out, tired, and like it wasn't going that well. So I challenged him to try and get to know some of the kids at a slightly deeper level. So he played Sorry with Yeong Seo, Phoebe, me, and Edward. Then I asked him later how it was for him, if he felt like he was making some progress with working with kids, and he said he felt better. Something I've noticed with the volunteers in general is that they can handle the kids when they are one to one, or one to two, but when they all come running with the desire of tickling or tackling, it's very easy for the volunteer to lose it.
My role as the observer in that case is to get the kids off of them, whether it be to direct them toward something else ("Look! Shiny!") or to point out that they are disrespecting the volunteer. My role as the volunteer supervisor is to teach the volunteer how to interact with them when they need to keep the child's attention, and how to hold their cool when they are overwhelmed with children. Interaction is key!
This week we learned that it's almost impossible to get enough kids to go to Camp Deerpark. We rented a huge air-conditioned bus with comfy seats and had eight kids, several parents, and a large group of volunteers. I had a great time. I went swimming, got to chat with Sylvia and Alicia, and get my hair trimmed, but I also know that there was a financial burden that was taken because we did not make the ends meet. We will continue these next two weeks to take trips on Wednesday, but they won't be to Camp Deerpark.
Prayer requests and praises:
With no correlation to my Flushing week, besides the fact that I'm here and they are my family there, my parents head to Japan today, and are on a flight to Salt Lake City as I write. I found out about my housing situation, that I am going to be able to stay with my grandparents off campus, to cut financial costs. With this decision, I still plan to stay connected to the hall that I was going to live on, because I love all of those girls, and I was looking forward to their companionship. Zach finished debreifing this week, and is at home now, and I might call him sometime. There's a reunion at HDC for all those people that were in training when he was, but because of some planned family things, he went home early and missed that. I get to see him in two weeks. Marie finished up her Music Academy today also, and is going home today, I think.
That's that.
The morning portion of the program includes breakfast and lunch, supplied for free by the city of New Yo. We have a short chapel following breakfast, and by the end of chapel, most of the kids have arrived at the program. As the weeks go on, we can easily tell which kids are going to come late, and which are going to be early, and also which kids will NEVER actually be coming. That is definitely obvious.
After the chapel, the younger kids start arts & crafts, and the older kids play dodgeball. Christa and I help with the arts & crafts, and Daniel leads the Dodgeball. I personally hate the game dodgeball, so this worked out in my favor. Craft wise, we've done origami, lanyard, coloring, drawing, tie-dye and then put fabric paint on a shirt, and next week we are planning to do paper mache, which I'm excited about. Its one of those things that I did a lot when I was younger. I had this spectacular book with all these cool things to do. I was really crafty when I was little, which has bled a little bit into my adulthood, because I love to knit, and not follow patterns, and I love to make collages. I'm not a bad drawer either. I just don't do it that often. Musically, I have been much more consistent with being artistic, because it's like my second language. With drawing, and other types of art, it's like I'm going in blind, like how I feel when I try to speak Spanish. There's this point where I'm blocked off and I can't see anymore. If I really practice, I get a chance to expand and see more, but I haven't really had that option here. I brought my sketch book, just like I planned to speak a lot more Spanish, and then didn't really get a chance to use it.
After Arts & Crafts, we switch over to playing board games until the lunch arrives (Dan and Milton have to go get it). Once lunch is over, most of the parents for the morning program pick up their children on time. Then we get started with the afternoon portion of the day--academics. More often than not, some of the kids have been desiring nap time, so we've given it to those who were interested. But the problem that I see with it is that unless we separate them all into their own individual places, they never sleep, so it's counter productive, because it makes them not listen to the volunteers in the room. After they "nap", we have them read for a little while, and write summaries about it. Then the packets of work appropriate to their age and level are given to them, and they do that until about four o'clock. Then we let them have special activities. We have done drama, music, and baking with them. This usually lasts somewhere between a half an hour to forty-five minutes, and the kids start going home around this time. We have computer on some days, some days we play board games, and on Friday, we watch a movie before they leave. During the special, or during the time that they are doing their work, if there are enough volunteers, some of us clean up, and make the place look nice, so that we don't have to do it after they leave. Some days we even leave before six o'clock, because the parents actually come on time.
For chapel for the last week, we have been teaching the kids a song with motions, and then talking about a fruit of the Spirit that is associated with the song. The Thursday and Friday before last, we did Love and Joy(and I played and sand "Amazing Love"), Then on Monday, we did Peace, Tuesday we did Patience (We did "Trading my Sorrows"), on Thursday we did Kindness (we taught the song about Peter and John healing the crippled man), and on Friday, we did a review.
When we have chapel, the hardest part is getting the kids to stand up when we sing. It never ends. Now that we have musical accompaniment, there's less of a focus issue, but it's still impossible to get them to stand. Sometimes it's the exact opposite, though.
There's this young guy, named Shaquille, who we are pretty sure has ADHD, because of his need to move, and focus so easily switched. He never listens and obviously cannot sit still. Every day we try sometime different. The best solution so far has been to have him sing with us when we teach the song. After we finish every song, he always says "More! More!" He's quite an armful. Sometimes we have to hold him down so that he won't run away, because he does run away. He drives me up the wall, but I see that there is some unfulfilled need for him to see and to learn. On Friday, he was playing dodgeball with the big kids, got hurt, hit someone, then ran away to the bathroom, and one of the volunteers yelled for me. Once we got him out of the bathroom, I took him for a walk around the building. He loved it, and had such a great time trying to and opening doors, and seeing what was behind them. When we got back down stairs, I had him draw me a map of where he'd just gone, and he drew a lot of doors, a staircase, and drew the roof, full of chimneys. (I think because he didn't get to go on the roof, that he was imagining all these chimneys) Then I asked him to draw me his favorite thing. He said music--and drew a guitar, a drum set, a "big piano", and a microphone. A kid after my own heart. When it comes down to it, Shaquille, though hard to understand, and to get to listen, he's quite exceptional. He reads rather well, and if he's focused on something, he will do it. I think when there is too much going on, he runs in circles (literally) because he can't decide what he wants to do.
It's been interesting being in charge of the volunteers. I've never been one to place degrees of separation between people because of the level that they are in comparison to where I am, and so working with the volunteers has been bringing them up to my level. However, at the same time, I know that most of them don't have the exact same experience with kids as I do, in a camp setting, and so I know that they are challenged by the amount of energy that these kids have and the amount of attention that they require.
One volunteer couldn't figure out why he was here. Spiritually, he felt like God was calling him to be here working with kids, but at the same time, he just felt worn out, tired, and like it wasn't going that well. So I challenged him to try and get to know some of the kids at a slightly deeper level. So he played Sorry with Yeong Seo, Phoebe, me, and Edward. Then I asked him later how it was for him, if he felt like he was making some progress with working with kids, and he said he felt better. Something I've noticed with the volunteers in general is that they can handle the kids when they are one to one, or one to two, but when they all come running with the desire of tickling or tackling, it's very easy for the volunteer to lose it.
My role as the observer in that case is to get the kids off of them, whether it be to direct them toward something else ("Look! Shiny!") or to point out that they are disrespecting the volunteer. My role as the volunteer supervisor is to teach the volunteer how to interact with them when they need to keep the child's attention, and how to hold their cool when they are overwhelmed with children. Interaction is key!
This week we learned that it's almost impossible to get enough kids to go to Camp Deerpark. We rented a huge air-conditioned bus with comfy seats and had eight kids, several parents, and a large group of volunteers. I had a great time. I went swimming, got to chat with Sylvia and Alicia, and get my hair trimmed, but I also know that there was a financial burden that was taken because we did not make the ends meet. We will continue these next two weeks to take trips on Wednesday, but they won't be to Camp Deerpark.
Prayer requests and praises:
With no correlation to my Flushing week, besides the fact that I'm here and they are my family there, my parents head to Japan today, and are on a flight to Salt Lake City as I write. I found out about my housing situation, that I am going to be able to stay with my grandparents off campus, to cut financial costs. With this decision, I still plan to stay connected to the hall that I was going to live on, because I love all of those girls, and I was looking forward to their companionship. Zach finished debreifing this week, and is at home now, and I might call him sometime. There's a reunion at HDC for all those people that were in training when he was, but because of some planned family things, he went home early and missed that. I get to see him in two weeks. Marie finished up her Music Academy today also, and is going home today, I think.
That's that.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Weekly Update #10
So this past week was a week of challenge; a week of exhaustion; a week of sickness; a week of celebration.
As the program continued, we had many ups and downs. There have been kids who started bleeding and started hurting or got hurt--the IcePacks we got for the coolers have gone to good use otherwise.
We've improvised through activities, and played Dodgeball one thousand times (although I have to say, I have not played Dodgeball once). Having such a spectrum of ages really changes the way the program is run--we have mostly kids going into third grade and under, but they all seem so much older. I think age stereotypes melts away when you learn names and faces.
This past week, I went temporarily insane, to match the lack of being prepared to tie dye, and feeling like there wasn't enough staff, and worrying about food, and tutoring work, and people.
Tuesday wasn't such a great day. I ate some green beans that were in the free lunches for the kids, and around five o'clock, I started feeling nauseous, eventually went home, and then later puked for the first time in seven and a half years. (and then again, and again, and again.) After that, I was sick of being sick, and I went to sleep. I felt better the next day, and have felt better for the rest of the week, but I don't think I've gotten my hydration back to where I wanted it to be, which sucks in the morning when I just need to get up and go, and I feel the need to be watered.
On Wednesday, we were going to go to Camp Deerpark, but then there were more staff that were going to go than kids, and it was going to rain, and so we cancelled the program, and got the day off. Which was absolutely perfect in going with the fact that I had been sick the day before--my mom told me I was contagious and shouldn't go to work. Unfortunately, there were people in my house all day, and I had to seem like I was completely healthy to match their output of energy.
My landlord, bless her heart, thinks that if you leave the fan on when you aren't in the house, that it will cause the house to burn down. But on the days when it was 100 degrees, and I would come home and the house was a sauna, there was no way I was going to leave the A/C and the fan off when I was gone. When you come home and the house is 92 degrees, there's something wrong.
Anyway, so she asked me if I had a learning disability, because I couldn't seem to "grasp" that I have to turn the fan off. My learning disability is that logic. I don't understand it. And, unfortunately, it is socially too late to ask her, because she will think I am starting a revolution in her house.
Thursday was survived, though the morning was stressful--we have been averaging twenty-five to thirty kids in the morning, and ten to twelve in the afternoon. We tie-dye shirts with them on Tuesday (I washed them all at my house on Wednesday), and on Thursday, we painted them with fabric paints.
Once Thursday evening came around, I had to skip Discipleship. I was leaving in the early morning for D.C., and had just gotten over being sick.
Friday morning --2:15AM, I woke up and Dan came over and picked me up and drove me to the Bus Depot. The most hilarious part of the morning was the fact that we were at a stand-still. At 3:00. On the high way. WE saw all the people who were still out, all the people who continued their day like it was light outside.
I barely made my bus. There was nowhere to check my bag, so I just put an ID on it, and then put it in the pile of bags that where checked, and I prayed that they would load it up like everyone's. I sat next to a middle-aged man named Jeff, who was going to Charlotte to start a better life for himself and the family he was leaving behind. He shared his Jolly Ranchers, grapes, and bought me a Fanta and a bag of chips (which I saved to give to Zach later). He was asking about the book I was reading, "Jesus for President", and said, "Oh, so you are into religion?" I said, "Yeah, Christianity." It was quiet for a little while, but later he started talking about what faith he'd grown up with, and how open his parents were, but how he wanted to start going back to church once he got to Charlotte. I'm praying that he does.
When I got to D.C., I was swept away with familiarity, and was so happy to be in a place where I felt like I could navigate myself.
I got off the Metro at Brookland, and then waited for Emily under the overpass. It's amazing what being in a city longer term does to you. I was completely comfortable doing that, whereas one year ago, I would have probably stuck as close to the station as I could. Emily got off the train and we walked and talked our way to the WCSC house. It was bizarre but wonderful to be back there! I felt at home (and played the piano for almost an hour), but felt no obligations. I had a great conversation with Kim, got to see my garden, ran into a couple current WCSCers (they were upstairs) and enjoyed half of an Everything Bagel with Emily before she left to bring a future student out for their interviews.
Around 12:30, the Hazletts arrived, picked me up, and we all headed to Dulles! It was a hot ride, there being no A/C in the car, but it was fine for me--I'd been in a cold building for the past three hours.
We arrived at Dulles a little earlier than the flight was supposed to come in, but then we waited around until an hour and a half after it landed for Zach to come out of customs. It was so awesome to surprise him. He didn't know that his family was coming, though he thought I might.
On my ride home from Harrisburg on the Amtrak, I took the time to reflect about my day with Zach, and here it is. Yes, I am long winded, I know.
What a whirlwind. I just spent a day with Zach. Just twenty-four hours. He’s home from Africa—Here to stay! Thank God for that. I don’t think I could take another year of him being gone. Props to those people who send their fiancées on mission trips, I couldn’t do it. He’s changed, but we can still pick up where we left off. I’m so thankful for that. I can handle this feeling of knowing he’s home now! Even if I can’t talk to him everyday, knowing that he’s just a few hours drive away, rather than a day/s flight away gives me so much peace. He seems to have adjusted well to America so far. Occasionally, he makes an observation of things—like the idea of a grocery store—with everything you need—like four TVs (in the store)—all being in the same place at the same time.
The Hazlett’s came and picked me up at WCSC, with all my stuff, and we headed off to Dulles. We got there early, and we remembered that Zach and his group had to go through customs to come back—so then the wait added to be more than an hour. Noraa had called me “Grace Hazlett”, saying that I was going to marry Zach, and I had accidently touched Taylor’s butt, so she said that it was because I wanted to touch Zach’s butt, and she was going to tell him that when he got there.
I was just starting to fall asleep while waiting for him (Waking up at 2:15 to get to Manhattan at 3:45am, and still getting stuck in traffic is quite annoying. But I slept pretty well, had a great seatmate, with whom I had a great conversation with about life, the universe and Everything (which is, God). He also shared his Jolly Ranchers, grapes, and bought me a bag of chips and a Fanta (didn’t know I was vegan. (But the guy sitting across the aisle from me did—he saw the PETA stickers on the back of my Macbook and asked me if I was in DC for the Animal Rights Convention.)), and Zach got off the airplane, out of customs, and all of a sudden he was there—same clothes, just more worn, and a little more covered in dirt! He was wearing the hat that he wore to Honduras, and looked like he had shaved his head again, and was bald. His face was plastered with a super smile and we could tell that we’d surprised him. Earlier in the day, I had texted Marie and told her what I was up to (because before, it was TOP SECRET), she reminded me that I should let his mom get the first hug. So I did. I let his entire family envelope him, before he smothered me with a wonderful losing-your-balance-hug. I was freaking out in my head—I was nervous and I had had too much caffeine earlier in the day—and was in complete shock, and I couldn’t stop looking at him! He’d changed so much—and looked the same at the same time. There was more hair on his face (and his chest, as I learned when everyone was swimming later). There was a lot less hair on his head (something I hope stays that way for a long time.)
His teammates were Africanized (which meant, for most of them—they lost weight). They looked relived and ready to be taken care of by someone else. (Which, for another tangent, is one thing that I loved the most about this trip.)
We swept him away from his team, and took him into the van (which, though un air-conditioned, was a wonderful trip because we’d all been frozen in airport for two hours), and then went to a grocery store, to pick up some stuff for dinner. Zach was in a bit of a shock. He kept looking around and because he could see everything that he needed it was so bizarre. He said that there was nothing like that store within a hundred miles of where he was. When he saw four monitors stacked together, he exclaimed—four TVs in the same place—so bizarre.
It was so wonderful to hear his motivation and energy. I have this feeling that he was ready to get going with what he wanted to do—either with school, or with work—he said he wanted to get a job. He wanted to get a motorcycle—and I think that is a great idea. I can’t wait until he does. I want to ride it with him!
After that, we headed to a National Park that was on the way to Harrisburg. Denice and Toby grilled food, I ate a lot of Dolma, and we all hung out around the park. There, Zach presented everyone with their gifts. When he started doing this, I could see how much he had thought through everything, as he gave everyone their gifts. He wanted each of us to experience a little bit of what he did in the past month. And the love that he expressed through that made me feel overwhelmed with the great beauty of the fact that Zach really does love me. More than I can expect. I was the last person that he gave the gifts to.
Zach had given everyone a little package that you make tea with, promising to make it with them, because it’s a two person thing, and because it makes about three shot cups per person. I received one of those. He gave each person three pieces of gum that they had in Guinea Bissau. There were two packages of crackers. One was a type that you were supposed to have with the tea, and one was a cookie with some Nutella in the middle. Both of these had some milk products in them, and Zach didn’t give them to me (which is why I assumed I didn’t get any. Later, he told me that he got hungry in customs and ate some, but when I told him I wouldn’t have been able to eat them anyway, he was relived.) Zach gave seashells (that were completely gorgeous) to Jaynie and Noraa, from the seashore that they went to in Guinea Bissau. He gave Aleks two iguana feet and two snake skins of snakes that he had killed. Both of them were poisonous.
Zach found some awesome sculptures to give as gifts to a couple people. My favorite was the tiger—it was more like a jaguar in shape, and had teeth that were probably from an iguana’s foot. He gave two pieces of artwork to Taylor and his mom. They were small paintings from a local artist in the area, but Zach picked them out because he felt like they represented Africa the best. He got Noraa a teenager sized wrap-around skirt, telling her that the girls in Africa are given the same ones, and roll them down to the right length, and then they keep them, and grow into them. He gave Jaynie a skirt also, with an additional hair scarf to just wrap around her head, like the women wrapped around their heads when they had to carry things like water on them. He got his father an entire outfit in a teal green—including a cute hat to go with the big shirt and short pants. It was so beautiful.
Then he gave me my gifts. He laid out the tea and the gum, and then reached in and handed me a necklace—not too fancy, with mostly black beads, with a design where the middle was—and a slight heart on the middle bead. It’s the first piece of jewelry I’ve ever received from a guy—and it means so much to me. And then he unfolded a wrap skirt for me—the same pattern as Noraa’s, and proceeded to help wrap me in it. There was a ruffle/ripple on the edge. Then he pulled out a shirt to go with it, which he helped me put on. It had three buttons and long sleeves. Zach said it was custom-made, and that he designed it. I was a bit incredulous—how did he know my size. “I’m the same size as you, Grace. “ Ah, I had forgotten. I had been so nervous that he was going to get something that he was going to get me something that I wouldn’t like, and would be disappointed with, but I knew that it was going to be alright when he started.
When we got back to HDC, Zach went in, and although there was a bit of a fiasco with Denice’s Ipod being dropped in the ice bucket, and a slippage of Apples to Apples cards all over the backseat (and Zach accidently yelling “Jeweli!” instead of “Grace!”), we brought him in, I said “Hello” to a couple of people—Kaitlyn, who was on Zach’s team in the beginning, but had to be resituated when health problems stopped her from going to Africa, was back for debriefing at the same time. Everyone was slightly surprised to see me there (especially the HDC staff, because they knew I was doing a GO assignment in Flushing), but understood at the same time. We drove to the Comfort Inn, and I got to sleep in the adult room (and fell right asleep, for that matter,) and was on the sofa bed—which was more comfortable than the bed in my house at Flushing. This is very sad.
We all woke up late—a little before ten o’clock, and ate breakfast at the hotel. Toby and I both had a couple spilling moments, but we learned that they offer coffee lids for a reason, and were thankful for the napkins that were also provided. Then Toby, Denice, and I all left for HDC to pick up Zach to come spend the day with us. We all changed into swimsuits and went in the itty-bitty pool that the hotel provided, and made the best of it, I should say. We played with the underwater camera, made as big of waves as you can in a square pool, and did handstands and somersaults to our delights.
We had lunch—I had the rest of the dolma, a salad of lettuce, tortilla chips, and salsa, and lots of fruit and some bread. And another cup of coffee. After we ate, we played a couple rounds of Uno, before we decided to look at some of Zach’s pictures with him. These were beautiful, and slowly the idea that Zach has been gone for a while, and this trip changed him, and the fact that he’s here now, and he’s not leaving soon, have started to seep in. And I feel a peace about me that soon we will get a chance to be in the same place and not have any obligations, and soon the degrees of separation will subside and we can be together for however long of a life God bids us.
When Zach came with me into the train station, and said goodbye to me in person, there beside me, with a kiss on the lips, I could tell you that it was perfect. It left me wanting more, excited for the future, motivated to finish strong, and ready to make things happen. I noticed many other changes in me while I was with the Hazlett’s. I felt like I was helping because I wanted to help, and because I could see the solution would make sense if I helped along with them, and because I love them. I could see that I wasn’t a third wheel when I was with them. I feel like part of the family.
Thanks for reading!
Prayer Requests and Praises
--I have four more weeks to go. This week is VBS, so we get a break in the mornings, but pray for all of us as we continue to work our butts off to make this program awesome for the kids.
--Praise that I got to see Zach! It was so awesome, which you probably read. Praise that I also got to go back to D.C.
--I am currently planning to apply to live off campus for the fall, and could use your prayers as I fill out the form. Anna already has an apartment in the perfect location that we are going to share with her roommate, and we just need to get me approved by the committee.
--Pray for Zach as he does reentry and debreifing
--My younger sister Marie is currently at Music Academy at Northwestern University. Because she talks so much with her chest voice, her vocal chords are really stressed and she has to rest them. Pray for her rest.
--My parents are going to Japan at the beginning of August. Pray for safe flights, a wonderful time with their friends, and a great celebration of 25 years of marriage.
As the program continued, we had many ups and downs. There have been kids who started bleeding and started hurting or got hurt--the IcePacks we got for the coolers have gone to good use otherwise.
We've improvised through activities, and played Dodgeball one thousand times (although I have to say, I have not played Dodgeball once). Having such a spectrum of ages really changes the way the program is run--we have mostly kids going into third grade and under, but they all seem so much older. I think age stereotypes melts away when you learn names and faces.
This past week, I went temporarily insane, to match the lack of being prepared to tie dye, and feeling like there wasn't enough staff, and worrying about food, and tutoring work, and people.
Tuesday wasn't such a great day. I ate some green beans that were in the free lunches for the kids, and around five o'clock, I started feeling nauseous, eventually went home, and then later puked for the first time in seven and a half years. (and then again, and again, and again.) After that, I was sick of being sick, and I went to sleep. I felt better the next day, and have felt better for the rest of the week, but I don't think I've gotten my hydration back to where I wanted it to be, which sucks in the morning when I just need to get up and go, and I feel the need to be watered.
On Wednesday, we were going to go to Camp Deerpark, but then there were more staff that were going to go than kids, and it was going to rain, and so we cancelled the program, and got the day off. Which was absolutely perfect in going with the fact that I had been sick the day before--my mom told me I was contagious and shouldn't go to work. Unfortunately, there were people in my house all day, and I had to seem like I was completely healthy to match their output of energy.
My landlord, bless her heart, thinks that if you leave the fan on when you aren't in the house, that it will cause the house to burn down. But on the days when it was 100 degrees, and I would come home and the house was a sauna, there was no way I was going to leave the A/C and the fan off when I was gone. When you come home and the house is 92 degrees, there's something wrong.
Anyway, so she asked me if I had a learning disability, because I couldn't seem to "grasp" that I have to turn the fan off. My learning disability is that logic. I don't understand it. And, unfortunately, it is socially too late to ask her, because she will think I am starting a revolution in her house.
Thursday was survived, though the morning was stressful--we have been averaging twenty-five to thirty kids in the morning, and ten to twelve in the afternoon. We tie-dye shirts with them on Tuesday (I washed them all at my house on Wednesday), and on Thursday, we painted them with fabric paints.
Once Thursday evening came around, I had to skip Discipleship. I was leaving in the early morning for D.C., and had just gotten over being sick.
Friday morning --2:15AM, I woke up and Dan came over and picked me up and drove me to the Bus Depot. The most hilarious part of the morning was the fact that we were at a stand-still. At 3:00. On the high way. WE saw all the people who were still out, all the people who continued their day like it was light outside.
I barely made my bus. There was nowhere to check my bag, so I just put an ID on it, and then put it in the pile of bags that where checked, and I prayed that they would load it up like everyone's. I sat next to a middle-aged man named Jeff, who was going to Charlotte to start a better life for himself and the family he was leaving behind. He shared his Jolly Ranchers, grapes, and bought me a Fanta and a bag of chips (which I saved to give to Zach later). He was asking about the book I was reading, "Jesus for President", and said, "Oh, so you are into religion?" I said, "Yeah, Christianity." It was quiet for a little while, but later he started talking about what faith he'd grown up with, and how open his parents were, but how he wanted to start going back to church once he got to Charlotte. I'm praying that he does.
When I got to D.C., I was swept away with familiarity, and was so happy to be in a place where I felt like I could navigate myself.
I got off the Metro at Brookland, and then waited for Emily under the overpass. It's amazing what being in a city longer term does to you. I was completely comfortable doing that, whereas one year ago, I would have probably stuck as close to the station as I could. Emily got off the train and we walked and talked our way to the WCSC house. It was bizarre but wonderful to be back there! I felt at home (and played the piano for almost an hour), but felt no obligations. I had a great conversation with Kim, got to see my garden, ran into a couple current WCSCers (they were upstairs) and enjoyed half of an Everything Bagel with Emily before she left to bring a future student out for their interviews.
Around 12:30, the Hazletts arrived, picked me up, and we all headed to Dulles! It was a hot ride, there being no A/C in the car, but it was fine for me--I'd been in a cold building for the past three hours.
We arrived at Dulles a little earlier than the flight was supposed to come in, but then we waited around until an hour and a half after it landed for Zach to come out of customs. It was so awesome to surprise him. He didn't know that his family was coming, though he thought I might.
On my ride home from Harrisburg on the Amtrak, I took the time to reflect about my day with Zach, and here it is. Yes, I am long winded, I know.
What a whirlwind. I just spent a day with Zach. Just twenty-four hours. He’s home from Africa—Here to stay! Thank God for that. I don’t think I could take another year of him being gone. Props to those people who send their fiancées on mission trips, I couldn’t do it. He’s changed, but we can still pick up where we left off. I’m so thankful for that. I can handle this feeling of knowing he’s home now! Even if I can’t talk to him everyday, knowing that he’s just a few hours drive away, rather than a day/s flight away gives me so much peace. He seems to have adjusted well to America so far. Occasionally, he makes an observation of things—like the idea of a grocery store—with everything you need—like four TVs (in the store)—all being in the same place at the same time.
The Hazlett’s came and picked me up at WCSC, with all my stuff, and we headed off to Dulles. We got there early, and we remembered that Zach and his group had to go through customs to come back—so then the wait added to be more than an hour. Noraa had called me “Grace Hazlett”, saying that I was going to marry Zach, and I had accidently touched Taylor’s butt, so she said that it was because I wanted to touch Zach’s butt, and she was going to tell him that when he got there.
I was just starting to fall asleep while waiting for him (Waking up at 2:15 to get to Manhattan at 3:45am, and still getting stuck in traffic is quite annoying. But I slept pretty well, had a great seatmate, with whom I had a great conversation with about life, the universe and Everything (which is, God). He also shared his Jolly Ranchers, grapes, and bought me a bag of chips and a Fanta (didn’t know I was vegan. (But the guy sitting across the aisle from me did—he saw the PETA stickers on the back of my Macbook and asked me if I was in DC for the Animal Rights Convention.)), and Zach got off the airplane, out of customs, and all of a sudden he was there—same clothes, just more worn, and a little more covered in dirt! He was wearing the hat that he wore to Honduras, and looked like he had shaved his head again, and was bald. His face was plastered with a super smile and we could tell that we’d surprised him. Earlier in the day, I had texted Marie and told her what I was up to (because before, it was TOP SECRET), she reminded me that I should let his mom get the first hug. So I did. I let his entire family envelope him, before he smothered me with a wonderful losing-your-balance-hug. I was freaking out in my head—I was nervous and I had had too much caffeine earlier in the day—and was in complete shock, and I couldn’t stop looking at him! He’d changed so much—and looked the same at the same time. There was more hair on his face (and his chest, as I learned when everyone was swimming later). There was a lot less hair on his head (something I hope stays that way for a long time.)
His teammates were Africanized (which meant, for most of them—they lost weight). They looked relived and ready to be taken care of by someone else. (Which, for another tangent, is one thing that I loved the most about this trip.)
We swept him away from his team, and took him into the van (which, though un air-conditioned, was a wonderful trip because we’d all been frozen in airport for two hours), and then went to a grocery store, to pick up some stuff for dinner. Zach was in a bit of a shock. He kept looking around and because he could see everything that he needed it was so bizarre. He said that there was nothing like that store within a hundred miles of where he was. When he saw four monitors stacked together, he exclaimed—four TVs in the same place—so bizarre.
It was so wonderful to hear his motivation and energy. I have this feeling that he was ready to get going with what he wanted to do—either with school, or with work—he said he wanted to get a job. He wanted to get a motorcycle—and I think that is a great idea. I can’t wait until he does. I want to ride it with him!
After that, we headed to a National Park that was on the way to Harrisburg. Denice and Toby grilled food, I ate a lot of Dolma, and we all hung out around the park. There, Zach presented everyone with their gifts. When he started doing this, I could see how much he had thought through everything, as he gave everyone their gifts. He wanted each of us to experience a little bit of what he did in the past month. And the love that he expressed through that made me feel overwhelmed with the great beauty of the fact that Zach really does love me. More than I can expect. I was the last person that he gave the gifts to.
Zach had given everyone a little package that you make tea with, promising to make it with them, because it’s a two person thing, and because it makes about three shot cups per person. I received one of those. He gave each person three pieces of gum that they had in Guinea Bissau. There were two packages of crackers. One was a type that you were supposed to have with the tea, and one was a cookie with some Nutella in the middle. Both of these had some milk products in them, and Zach didn’t give them to me (which is why I assumed I didn’t get any. Later, he told me that he got hungry in customs and ate some, but when I told him I wouldn’t have been able to eat them anyway, he was relived.) Zach gave seashells (that were completely gorgeous) to Jaynie and Noraa, from the seashore that they went to in Guinea Bissau. He gave Aleks two iguana feet and two snake skins of snakes that he had killed. Both of them were poisonous.
Zach found some awesome sculptures to give as gifts to a couple people. My favorite was the tiger—it was more like a jaguar in shape, and had teeth that were probably from an iguana’s foot. He gave two pieces of artwork to Taylor and his mom. They were small paintings from a local artist in the area, but Zach picked them out because he felt like they represented Africa the best. He got Noraa a teenager sized wrap-around skirt, telling her that the girls in Africa are given the same ones, and roll them down to the right length, and then they keep them, and grow into them. He gave Jaynie a skirt also, with an additional hair scarf to just wrap around her head, like the women wrapped around their heads when they had to carry things like water on them. He got his father an entire outfit in a teal green—including a cute hat to go with the big shirt and short pants. It was so beautiful.
Then he gave me my gifts. He laid out the tea and the gum, and then reached in and handed me a necklace—not too fancy, with mostly black beads, with a design where the middle was—and a slight heart on the middle bead. It’s the first piece of jewelry I’ve ever received from a guy—and it means so much to me. And then he unfolded a wrap skirt for me—the same pattern as Noraa’s, and proceeded to help wrap me in it. There was a ruffle/ripple on the edge. Then he pulled out a shirt to go with it, which he helped me put on. It had three buttons and long sleeves. Zach said it was custom-made, and that he designed it. I was a bit incredulous—how did he know my size. “I’m the same size as you, Grace. “ Ah, I had forgotten. I had been so nervous that he was going to get something that he was going to get me something that I wouldn’t like, and would be disappointed with, but I knew that it was going to be alright when he started.
When we got back to HDC, Zach went in, and although there was a bit of a fiasco with Denice’s Ipod being dropped in the ice bucket, and a slippage of Apples to Apples cards all over the backseat (and Zach accidently yelling “Jeweli!” instead of “Grace!”), we brought him in, I said “Hello” to a couple of people—Kaitlyn, who was on Zach’s team in the beginning, but had to be resituated when health problems stopped her from going to Africa, was back for debriefing at the same time. Everyone was slightly surprised to see me there (especially the HDC staff, because they knew I was doing a GO assignment in Flushing), but understood at the same time. We drove to the Comfort Inn, and I got to sleep in the adult room (and fell right asleep, for that matter,) and was on the sofa bed—which was more comfortable than the bed in my house at Flushing. This is very sad.
We all woke up late—a little before ten o’clock, and ate breakfast at the hotel. Toby and I both had a couple spilling moments, but we learned that they offer coffee lids for a reason, and were thankful for the napkins that were also provided. Then Toby, Denice, and I all left for HDC to pick up Zach to come spend the day with us. We all changed into swimsuits and went in the itty-bitty pool that the hotel provided, and made the best of it, I should say. We played with the underwater camera, made as big of waves as you can in a square pool, and did handstands and somersaults to our delights.
We had lunch—I had the rest of the dolma, a salad of lettuce, tortilla chips, and salsa, and lots of fruit and some bread. And another cup of coffee. After we ate, we played a couple rounds of Uno, before we decided to look at some of Zach’s pictures with him. These were beautiful, and slowly the idea that Zach has been gone for a while, and this trip changed him, and the fact that he’s here now, and he’s not leaving soon, have started to seep in. And I feel a peace about me that soon we will get a chance to be in the same place and not have any obligations, and soon the degrees of separation will subside and we can be together for however long of a life God bids us.
When Zach came with me into the train station, and said goodbye to me in person, there beside me, with a kiss on the lips, I could tell you that it was perfect. It left me wanting more, excited for the future, motivated to finish strong, and ready to make things happen. I noticed many other changes in me while I was with the Hazlett’s. I felt like I was helping because I wanted to help, and because I could see the solution would make sense if I helped along with them, and because I love them. I could see that I wasn’t a third wheel when I was with them. I feel like part of the family.
Thanks for reading!
Prayer Requests and Praises
--I have four more weeks to go. This week is VBS, so we get a break in the mornings, but pray for all of us as we continue to work our butts off to make this program awesome for the kids.
--Praise that I got to see Zach! It was so awesome, which you probably read. Praise that I also got to go back to D.C.
--I am currently planning to apply to live off campus for the fall, and could use your prayers as I fill out the form. Anna already has an apartment in the perfect location that we are going to share with her roommate, and we just need to get me approved by the committee.
--Pray for Zach as he does reentry and debreifing
--My younger sister Marie is currently at Music Academy at Northwestern University. Because she talks so much with her chest voice, her vocal chords are really stressed and she has to rest them. Pray for her rest.
--My parents are going to Japan at the beginning of August. Pray for safe flights, a wonderful time with their friends, and a great celebration of 25 years of marriage.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Time Flies?
Anna's been out of the U.S. for the entire semester with the Guatemala crosscultural. I feel like I haven't seen her in a long time, and I can't wait for her to return home. Yet, when I hear about the Middle East Cross Cultural, and that they are coming back in a week--the same thing, I barely think they have been gone at all. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I'm not emotionally close to anyone on that Cross Cultural, whereas I am close to Anna, Stacy, and somewhat to several others that are on the trip. So I guess that the time flies for those you don't think about.
I think what I'm referring to are the different things going on this summer, and where I'm going to be with all of these, and if they are going to work out. One thought--I'm going to New York, and I'm over halfway funded. I know when I'm going into training, and I know when I'm arriving in New York, but I only have a little of an idea of what I will be doing. Also, I'm signed up to earn service learning credit hours for the three months I will be there.
I've finally made a decision about my major, which makes life take a completely different path. I'm excited about this because suddenly there is a defined path with a street named "Grace --->" and I know which way to turn. I know that there is passion in this area. I know this because I could do these things for no money and be satisfied--I'm doing it now, paying for it. This is like music for me. People are my other music, they challenge me to do different things, to try harder keys and progressions, and write different words. This is why I want to train in the field of Social Work. And I know this time is going to fly as well. Soon all of these classes are going to be satisfied, and I'm going to be shipped back to Washington D.C. for my senior practicum, and then onward, to another city, to do what God has glistened my life with. Love others.
It's interesting to me how we can become so enveloped into things we are interested in. They take our minds--imaginations-- and run with them, skipping through ideas, and dreams. The shiny facade of movies do that exactly. They stimulate our brains--but only to what we can follow within the story.
I'm a commenter. I think of things in the storyline that I find interesting, or funny, or relevant to something that it reminds me of, and I make it known. And I'm more likely to do it with someone that I know well. I've been reminded of this by Zach, and before, I actually wasn't aware that I was a commenter. It's something Dad does too--whenever he and Mom attend a church service that they are not involved in, he sits next to her, and during the sermon, he whispers his comments into her ear. It drives my mom crazy. So it's completely insane that I didn't know that I did this--unless it doesn't annoy Zach. Which I probably will end up asking him.. But I became aware of this tonight, while we were watching the movie, because Jess was sitting next to me, and she said, "Grace, if you whisper in my ear one more time.." Oops. Didn't mean to annoy you. In relevance to what I've been talking about, this movie flew by, and before we knew it, it was ten to one, and I was still wide awake (probably due to the slight amount of mystery coffee that I added to my hot soy cocoa before I joined the movie clan).
Something to think about. I don't like wasting things, and of all of these, I hate wasting time. That being said, I hate the idea of missing out on things that are happening. For example, this summer, I'm not going to be able to work at Camp Luz. I'm not going to meet the new campers, whether Mini or Youth, or work with the new staff, and become a better facilitator. I'm going to miss it a lot, and miss the trusting deep friendships that occur only in that type of situation. But I also know that my time is not going to be wasted, and before I know it, I'm going to be leaving a new set of friends behind in NYC to come back to EMU, and stability and love. All of these things that I will also be leaving behind in NYC, and in D.C., and in Wauseon, and in Streetsboro. And eventually, EMU will be left behind. This too shall pass.
This time. And I don't want to waste it. Which brings me to my next point.
I see how some people are in need of a fix-a drug to make them open, or happy, or easy-to make their life worth living. But I don't--I can't stand the idea of being so wasted that you can't remember what happened. I can't stand the idea of spending so much money on drinks that you can't pay for the taxi home. I can't imagine being so drunk that you can't stand up straight or see where you are going. I've experienced fun with people--insane laughter, slap happy moments, and sleepless nights. And I remember them. Because I wanted to. And if these things are meant to happen, they will, and for me, I will try to make them remembered, because I don't want to have to worry that I'll ever do something I will regret.
I feel as if when I reach the age of twenty one, I will drink alcohol. But I will only do so if it is something I can enjoy. I hope that it will not become something social and something that I do to show how adventurous I am (this could be a weakness). I hope that I drink because I like the taste, and not for a buzz and a feeling. I hope that money I spend will be in moderation, as will the amount I consume.
I want to remember all that I've done and all that I've experienced. Time not remembered is time wasted, no matter what anyone tries to say.
I haven't stayed up this late, or this awake in a long time. I can finally say that I'm done with whatever illness ailed me, and that I am rather blessed to be filled with energy to do things with people. That time where I couldn't do anything because I was so tired was rather deteriorating to my mental state, and now I feel beautiful and happy, and I am really content. And now, I am going to church tomorrow. Thus I should sleep for a part of that, es verdad?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Just sad.
Sad that Zach isn't here.
And everything reminds me of him.
And I have this habit of finding pictures of him I haven't seen yet of him
And then I smile
And feel sad.
Sad I don't have a man to hug that will make me feel better.
Sad that I can't see him.
That I can't hear him.
That I feel sort of pointless at the moment.
But time can only go on, right?
So I'll let that time tick.
Tick away.
Im just going to go to bed.
And everything reminds me of him.
And I have this habit of finding pictures of him I haven't seen yet of him
And then I smile
And feel sad.
Sad I don't have a man to hug that will make me feel better.
Sad that I can't see him.
That I can't hear him.
That I feel sort of pointless at the moment.
But time can only go on, right?
So I'll let that time tick.
Tick away.
Im just going to go to bed.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Relations, Frustrations, and Communications
Thursday started early. I almost think too early. But it was a good morning. I met one of Colman's former students in one of his classes who said she had no more credits needed to graduate, and is only taking half a day at Bethesda for this semester. She may join me in my endeavors with Garrison Elementary School.
At Wilson, we talked about the death penalty. Colman is against the death penalty, and spoke about a slightly mentally retarded boy that was a minor and was spending time with a couple people who did some bad things and these people--a soldier and another man--killed two people after robbing them. He was judged to be one of those who had a main role, and was put on death row, still only a minor, and a low enough IQ to be considered slow. Colman got in contact with him while he was waiting for his execution. He learned that this boy, James Roach, had learned to read, and was teaching other inmates how to read. His skin was yellow because he didn't get to go outside enough. He asked Colman to attend his execution, but he didn't go, because he was against what was going on. Several years later, after Supreme Court Rulings made it illegal to sentence a minor or a retarded person to death, he met the governor of the state at a party, who was trying to promote his education program of the state. Colman told him that he sentenced a great teacher to death.
Two people in the class had family members that had been murdered. Jasmine, a girl that sat behind me, spoke of her uncle who was killed by a racist white man. The man plead insane, and escaped death row, she said. She said she was for the death penalty because it should be a life for a life.
Another student, I think his name was Andrew, said that his brother was murdered last February. He said the case was still open--they were still investigating, that thought the police had originally said he had committed suicide, they had found evidence that there was foul play. The difference was that Andrew didn't think his brother's murderer should die. He felt forgiveness was necessary and that we should not kill because it wouldn't bring someone back to life if we killed another person. It was hard, but really good to hear these perspectives. In my high school, I knew one person that had had a family member murdered. Here, there was two in a class of 25 students.
I met Tony at the bus stop on the way home from Wilson High on Thursday.
Tony is a worker at Safeway grocery stores, has a granddaughter at Wilson High School, and likes to wear the art of knitted scarves. He has done some sort of work with the people who put out those huge bins in the corners of parking lots, by helping the people receiving the items inside. He has compassion for the people who donate, those who volunteer to give it away, and those that receive it. He rides the H4 bus home at night, and knows which drivers will take a smoke and leave the people who want to get on the bus in the rain and which won't. He knows where to get new microwaves when the young workers at the grocery store accidently blow up the other one. He was very intelligent. When he said he worked at Safeway, I thought me meant like a program for schools, or for homeless people, judging on his knowledge of the programs going on around him.
Friday brought a different sort of schedule. I had spent Thursday afternoon hating bureaucracies because they require you to get your fingerprints done and TB tests to be taken to volunteer in a classroom. I emailed Colman about my frustrations, and he told me to show up at the school and just present myself to the point that I wanted to be there to help. So I did--I took the bus to Garrison Elementary and went in, but the man that I wanted to speak with wasn't available--he was working on report cards, so I left my contact information and told him I wanted to get in contact with him.
Then I rode a different bus home. The funny thing was that I didn't know how I was going to get home, so I decided to take the bus toward Fort Totten, to see if I could find to bus to Brookland from there.
On the way, I met Connie. She's a great grandmother, a retired lady with family all over the place. She has lived in DC all her life, and has a passion for children. Connie can always tell when someone moved to DC from some place south like Brazil, because she said one girl wore a thin jacket with a flowery dress in January. She said she'd always wanted to learn how to knit (I was working on Jasmine's scarf).
She was very kind, and I could tell that she cared about people in the community. She had an air of kindness, and concern. One young mana and his two children got on the bus, and she asked him how he was doing, she said that his mother had died recently and she was happy that he and all his siblings were staying together. I told her I lived in a suburb of Cleveland where there wasn't much diversity in the schools, then she told me that one of her sons lived in Wisconsin, and people always thought he was a football player because he was tall and black, and asked him for his autograph. She said she'd never seen a small town with so little diversity.
I got home and then putzed around for awhile. I contacted Emily to see if she was going contra dancing and then fanagled around trying to figure out how I was going to contra dance if I didn't have a ride, and ended up getting ahold of Ryan and going over to their house for supper and a ride.
I rode the Metro to Takoma Park and got there early. I had a lot of energy, and sat in the living room, knitting and talking to Fraya, who is Ryan's adopted daughter. She's sixteen and is mentally-disabled, likes shiny things and coffee pots. She really liked my circular knitting needles, and pulled my scarf off of them (which was fine) and then would suck on them and wiggle them it the air.
After awhile, dinner was ready, I got my needles back and continued to work on the scarf, and we had Tempheh (?), blueberries, brown rice, salad greens, peppers, and then later there was smoothies and muffins (from the dumpster). There were long discussions going on, because there was a prospective housemate, named Abi, looking at the home to see if she wanted to move into their intentional community. I met Adam, Jeff, Brett (who I had met last week), Rob, Mikyla, Noah, Megan (Mikyla and Noah are her children), and Mark, as well. It was great to know their names. People often mistake me for being part of the community when I am at the house--like last Sunday, and also yesterday, Abi thought I was part of the house. Brett is doing an internship in the White House, Mark is a reporter, Adam is going into Acupuncture, Ryan is a physicist (I already knew this), Megan is a nurse practitioner.
Contra dancing was a blast. I rode with Ryan, Brett, Mark, and Abi to the contra dance and then it was a blast. I get better every time. It seems shorter every time. I like dancing with the older men because they are intelligent and don't make weird eye contact. I danced with one guy, named David, who owns a music shop. It made me excited, and we waltzed and then talked about it. It was great. He's my facebook friend now! Dumpster diving was successful. We got bread, cheese, naan, mini pita breads, bananas (out the wazoo--an entire box full), organic apple slices. . It was great. Salsa... mmm.
I slept at their house. It was chilly, and I had a lot of blankets, but for some reason I didn't sleep very well. But either way, I got up the next morning, but was well-greeted, and offered coffee, which I accepted, and had a good cup of it, and then took the things that I wanted from the dumpster run in my bag and walked to the metro. It was snowing a lot, and I was in a really good mood. I kept saying "Good morning!" to everyone, and it was really funny how much snow heaped onto my head during the walk to the metro. When I put my sole dollar onto my card, there was a couple nearby that looked a little unsure about the machine, but they said everything was fine, and they were waiting on the platform when I got up there.
They asked me which Metro stop to get off of to go to the Portrait Gallery, which I went to with Andrew for the city scavenger hunt, so I told them, and even said where they should get out, and which way it was from there. Then we talked about everything--they were from South Africa and the U.K., which I could tell from their accents. They had toured through all the big sites in the cold frigid air. We talked about weather in London and Ohio, and DC. Their names were Allen and Marie. They were very sweet.
I walked home and cleared the steps, the back porch and sidewalk and the front sidewalk all the way to the bus stop off with snow. Too bad it kept snowing. and kept snowing.
The bus that we took to Target later in the day was twenty three minutes later than expected. I was afraid for getting back to the house late, because I was going to call Zach at three. We got back at 3:15, with everything we needed, and it was all good. I had a battle with the local access number, and eventually I just called the one through my phone, and it made sense. Then Zach and I got to talk. He originally said at the beginning of the conversation that he wanted to talk for twenty minutes. But we actually talked for fifty-four. Because my card had enough money.
And it was wonderful, and I miss him so much. There's really not words to describe how much it meant to be able to talk to him. The interesting part of all of it is that he got malaria this past week. It got really bad and he was sick to all get out, and went to the hospital and recovered, but I could still tell that his lungs were infected--he told me so, and he also was coughing a lot (which made me want to cry). And he lost twenty pounds. But he said that he spent the entire week thinking, and learning. He said that he's been studying 1 Corinthians, and related this passage to what he felt--"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put my childish ways behind me." (13:11). I could tell.
God's will for things always ends up better than what I imagined it to be. When Zach left for training, I thought that he would come back a little better, more mature, and then he'd go off to Africa and change a lot. He came back from training, changed, but in a really good way. Better than I expected. This is God's will for his life. I'm so excited for him. Now that he's in Africa, he's growing so much more, and I wish I was there to see it, to know what was going on, and I wish that I understood everything that he said, but I also know that when he gets back it will be better than what I expected, and God will keep working.
The last thing we talked about was communication. This was the hard part. What's cheap in America is expensive in Africa, and vice versa, so it's hard to send letters. But he told me to email. He also said that we can talk about all this for months and months when he gets back. The way he said it was hard. It made me really sad, but at the same time, it helped me prepare for the future. I can still write letters if I want. I will, I think. And send him some sour candies, and attempt to find something that resembles Mountain Dew so that he can enjoy it. It's just really hard to figure out what would be perfect to send.
But when we ended the conversation, even though I was sad, I could tell that he still knew me, and even though I was silent on my end of the line, he said, "Now I know this is the part you hate." Then we said Goodbye. And I was sad, but I trust god for our future, and I know that everything is going to be great.
Six months is not very much in the scheme of life. And I can't wait.
At Wilson, we talked about the death penalty. Colman is against the death penalty, and spoke about a slightly mentally retarded boy that was a minor and was spending time with a couple people who did some bad things and these people--a soldier and another man--killed two people after robbing them. He was judged to be one of those who had a main role, and was put on death row, still only a minor, and a low enough IQ to be considered slow. Colman got in contact with him while he was waiting for his execution. He learned that this boy, James Roach, had learned to read, and was teaching other inmates how to read. His skin was yellow because he didn't get to go outside enough. He asked Colman to attend his execution, but he didn't go, because he was against what was going on. Several years later, after Supreme Court Rulings made it illegal to sentence a minor or a retarded person to death, he met the governor of the state at a party, who was trying to promote his education program of the state. Colman told him that he sentenced a great teacher to death.
Two people in the class had family members that had been murdered. Jasmine, a girl that sat behind me, spoke of her uncle who was killed by a racist white man. The man plead insane, and escaped death row, she said. She said she was for the death penalty because it should be a life for a life.
Another student, I think his name was Andrew, said that his brother was murdered last February. He said the case was still open--they were still investigating, that thought the police had originally said he had committed suicide, they had found evidence that there was foul play. The difference was that Andrew didn't think his brother's murderer should die. He felt forgiveness was necessary and that we should not kill because it wouldn't bring someone back to life if we killed another person. It was hard, but really good to hear these perspectives. In my high school, I knew one person that had had a family member murdered. Here, there was two in a class of 25 students.
I met Tony at the bus stop on the way home from Wilson High on Thursday.
Tony is a worker at Safeway grocery stores, has a granddaughter at Wilson High School, and likes to wear the art of knitted scarves. He has done some sort of work with the people who put out those huge bins in the corners of parking lots, by helping the people receiving the items inside. He has compassion for the people who donate, those who volunteer to give it away, and those that receive it. He rides the H4 bus home at night, and knows which drivers will take a smoke and leave the people who want to get on the bus in the rain and which won't. He knows where to get new microwaves when the young workers at the grocery store accidently blow up the other one. He was very intelligent. When he said he worked at Safeway, I thought me meant like a program for schools, or for homeless people, judging on his knowledge of the programs going on around him.
Friday brought a different sort of schedule. I had spent Thursday afternoon hating bureaucracies because they require you to get your fingerprints done and TB tests to be taken to volunteer in a classroom. I emailed Colman about my frustrations, and he told me to show up at the school and just present myself to the point that I wanted to be there to help. So I did--I took the bus to Garrison Elementary and went in, but the man that I wanted to speak with wasn't available--he was working on report cards, so I left my contact information and told him I wanted to get in contact with him.
Then I rode a different bus home. The funny thing was that I didn't know how I was going to get home, so I decided to take the bus toward Fort Totten, to see if I could find to bus to Brookland from there.
On the way, I met Connie. She's a great grandmother, a retired lady with family all over the place. She has lived in DC all her life, and has a passion for children. Connie can always tell when someone moved to DC from some place south like Brazil, because she said one girl wore a thin jacket with a flowery dress in January. She said she'd always wanted to learn how to knit (I was working on Jasmine's scarf).
She was very kind, and I could tell that she cared about people in the community. She had an air of kindness, and concern. One young mana and his two children got on the bus, and she asked him how he was doing, she said that his mother had died recently and she was happy that he and all his siblings were staying together. I told her I lived in a suburb of Cleveland where there wasn't much diversity in the schools, then she told me that one of her sons lived in Wisconsin, and people always thought he was a football player because he was tall and black, and asked him for his autograph. She said she'd never seen a small town with so little diversity.
I got home and then putzed around for awhile. I contacted Emily to see if she was going contra dancing and then fanagled around trying to figure out how I was going to contra dance if I didn't have a ride, and ended up getting ahold of Ryan and going over to their house for supper and a ride.
I rode the Metro to Takoma Park and got there early. I had a lot of energy, and sat in the living room, knitting and talking to Fraya, who is Ryan's adopted daughter. She's sixteen and is mentally-disabled, likes shiny things and coffee pots. She really liked my circular knitting needles, and pulled my scarf off of them (which was fine) and then would suck on them and wiggle them it the air.
After awhile, dinner was ready, I got my needles back and continued to work on the scarf, and we had Tempheh (?), blueberries, brown rice, salad greens, peppers, and then later there was smoothies and muffins (from the dumpster). There were long discussions going on, because there was a prospective housemate, named Abi, looking at the home to see if she wanted to move into their intentional community. I met Adam, Jeff, Brett (who I had met last week), Rob, Mikyla, Noah, Megan (Mikyla and Noah are her children), and Mark, as well. It was great to know their names. People often mistake me for being part of the community when I am at the house--like last Sunday, and also yesterday, Abi thought I was part of the house. Brett is doing an internship in the White House, Mark is a reporter, Adam is going into Acupuncture, Ryan is a physicist (I already knew this), Megan is a nurse practitioner.
Contra dancing was a blast. I rode with Ryan, Brett, Mark, and Abi to the contra dance and then it was a blast. I get better every time. It seems shorter every time. I like dancing with the older men because they are intelligent and don't make weird eye contact. I danced with one guy, named David, who owns a music shop. It made me excited, and we waltzed and then talked about it. It was great. He's my facebook friend now! Dumpster diving was successful. We got bread, cheese, naan, mini pita breads, bananas (out the wazoo--an entire box full), organic apple slices. . It was great. Salsa... mmm.
I slept at their house. It was chilly, and I had a lot of blankets, but for some reason I didn't sleep very well. But either way, I got up the next morning, but was well-greeted, and offered coffee, which I accepted, and had a good cup of it, and then took the things that I wanted from the dumpster run in my bag and walked to the metro. It was snowing a lot, and I was in a really good mood. I kept saying "Good morning!" to everyone, and it was really funny how much snow heaped onto my head during the walk to the metro. When I put my sole dollar onto my card, there was a couple nearby that looked a little unsure about the machine, but they said everything was fine, and they were waiting on the platform when I got up there.
They asked me which Metro stop to get off of to go to the Portrait Gallery, which I went to with Andrew for the city scavenger hunt, so I told them, and even said where they should get out, and which way it was from there. Then we talked about everything--they were from South Africa and the U.K., which I could tell from their accents. They had toured through all the big sites in the cold frigid air. We talked about weather in London and Ohio, and DC. Their names were Allen and Marie. They were very sweet.
I walked home and cleared the steps, the back porch and sidewalk and the front sidewalk all the way to the bus stop off with snow. Too bad it kept snowing. and kept snowing.
The bus that we took to Target later in the day was twenty three minutes later than expected. I was afraid for getting back to the house late, because I was going to call Zach at three. We got back at 3:15, with everything we needed, and it was all good. I had a battle with the local access number, and eventually I just called the one through my phone, and it made sense. Then Zach and I got to talk. He originally said at the beginning of the conversation that he wanted to talk for twenty minutes. But we actually talked for fifty-four. Because my card had enough money.
And it was wonderful, and I miss him so much. There's really not words to describe how much it meant to be able to talk to him. The interesting part of all of it is that he got malaria this past week. It got really bad and he was sick to all get out, and went to the hospital and recovered, but I could still tell that his lungs were infected--he told me so, and he also was coughing a lot (which made me want to cry). And he lost twenty pounds. But he said that he spent the entire week thinking, and learning. He said that he's been studying 1 Corinthians, and related this passage to what he felt--"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put my childish ways behind me." (13:11). I could tell.
God's will for things always ends up better than what I imagined it to be. When Zach left for training, I thought that he would come back a little better, more mature, and then he'd go off to Africa and change a lot. He came back from training, changed, but in a really good way. Better than I expected. This is God's will for his life. I'm so excited for him. Now that he's in Africa, he's growing so much more, and I wish I was there to see it, to know what was going on, and I wish that I understood everything that he said, but I also know that when he gets back it will be better than what I expected, and God will keep working.
The last thing we talked about was communication. This was the hard part. What's cheap in America is expensive in Africa, and vice versa, so it's hard to send letters. But he told me to email. He also said that we can talk about all this for months and months when he gets back. The way he said it was hard. It made me really sad, but at the same time, it helped me prepare for the future. I can still write letters if I want. I will, I think. And send him some sour candies, and attempt to find something that resembles Mountain Dew so that he can enjoy it. It's just really hard to figure out what would be perfect to send.
But when we ended the conversation, even though I was sad, I could tell that he still knew me, and even though I was silent on my end of the line, he said, "Now I know this is the part you hate." Then we said Goodbye. And I was sad, but I trust god for our future, and I know that everything is going to be great.
Six months is not very much in the scheme of life. And I can't wait.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
The Rough Stuff: Predators and Boys who Mean Well (Online and Off)
I never thought I would have to write about this, because I tend to think that I have reliable boundaries and morals of which I follow unconsciously to avoid unwanted male contact. But it seems that it is unavoidable, with internet use being for so vastly for communicative purposes.
I had little knowledge of Skype, other than the option that it was a program that could be used for free phone calls to other countries, and it had video chat options. I'd used it for myself, between my parents and my friends for conversation and connections. A couple weekends ago, however, I was on Skype, and I noticed that you could change your "online status" to online, or away, or invisible, and also "Skype me!" I wasn't sure what that meant, so I switched it on, and then proceeded with my other internet communicative obligations (Facebook, Gmail, Blogger). Within minutes, I was being chatted with some random guy who I had never met or even heard of. Because I have learned to be careful about things like this--there are creepers alive and creeping out there, whether we like it or not--I bluntly asked this character "Who are you?"
You know it's a bad thing when they respond with their age and their gender, but don't give a name. I didn't continue the conversation after that, and when the character continued the conversations with, "can i see you?", I replied "no", and he responded "plz Im hard now", I exited the conversation, and blocked the character. Similar situations occured, each, now with an experienced eye, had little to no conversation, and several perverts were blocked.
By then, I realized that it was most likely the "skype me!" status. I discovered that it is synonymous with "Horny", and I reduced my online status back to just "online."
I was saddened by this, because suddenly all forms of communication have a dark side. Desperate people call for desperate measures. That or they are just too bored to realize how stupid they are being.
This has happened on Facebook as well, just not in such a heavy extent. It's usually a friend request or someone I've never heard of, and then, or course, I just ignore their friend request.
The difficult part is when it's someone who is actually a mutual friend of your friends, and so you assume they have some type of connection with you, and so you add them. But when they start sending vague messages, and start a Facebook chat with "How are you, sexy?", I took no dramatic pause to remove my friend connection with the character.
I refuse to be the butt of a group of people that try to get women to like them by telling them how beautiful they are, over the internet, nonetheless, to get them to give favors of some sort.
It makes me nauseous, essentially.
What disturbs me the most is when it's someone I have known before, as a friend. And as a friend, you have the free right to pass through their pictures, giggle at the funny pictures, and Like the beautiful ones. But it's disgusting when you come across PG-13 pictures, taken by themselves. I do not approve. Regardless of whatever seemingly righteous intentions said person had with their photography, it's still trashy, and rude to those of us who like a positive picture drawn when on the internet.
In real life, I hate it when guys whistle out of their cars at girls, or yell at them. I dislike it when it seems that a woman becomes a spectacle of choice that needs "serenading" (aka catcalls).
I hate that there are some upperclassmen that think that all freshman are naive, and that we would be interested in continuing a conversation with them, after their first intellectually deep thought-through statement: "Where you come from?" (when you are on the staircase, and it is obvious that you came from the floor above them).
And also the assumption that the girls dorms are all willing for partiers that aren't students to come into their dorms and have sex with them is a highly wrong assumption. Ugh. Some men never become men. It's really depressing.
This last paragraph is someone who has not offended me.
It is refreshing to be hit on by someone who just wants to watch a movie, Mamma Mia!, nonetheless, in the laundry room. There are no other sexual intentions, no obvious "I want you for your body, and how you can make me feel" moments, but rather, "I think you're smart, and I like your personality, and heck, you're kinda cute too" moments. Unfortunately for anyone who tries to pull this one with me, they will have no luck, because I'm busy. I have a prior (anything but!) obligation. This is one that I pray will make it through the African jungle, and make it all the way to the "I do" stage. But time is time, and God is God, so I'm gonna wait on him. and Him.
That's all I have to say about that.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Grateful Giver
It hit me hard yesterday.
The movie and music choices didn't help much either.
All the commercials for movies and it seems that every song in the entire world is about love. Missing love. Love being far away. Love happening. Getting married. It seems that our culture is consumed by this. It's an obsession.
"Why you do Obsessed with me? I just wanna know..." Even Mariah is feelin' it. But the fact is we take little situations and write overexaggerated songs about them.
It's not that I don't care about Love. It's just that my love and I don't have the average American relationship. Probably because he's going to Africa. I may get to talk to him once a week through Skype, but we aren't even sure about that. It takes a month for mail to be delivered to where he's going.
For me, it's this constant back and forth sway of emotions.
He needs to go. There's no other thing he can do. He's prepared for this. He's taken care of business at training. He's made a difference in Harrisburg, and now he'll go make a difference in Guinea Bissau.
I need him to go. I know that the spiritual growth that has happened in the past two months is part of what he needs to do. I know that this is what God's plan is for him.
But I don't want him to go. We've been apart for so long. It's so rough for me to go, day in and day out, and see the fortunate couples who get to spend time with those they love everyday. And I see them take that person for granted. I don't take him for granted. Every second he'll be here will be met with an equal amount of thankfulness that I'll be able to spend this second, this minute, this day with him, because there will be eight months of seconds, minutes, days, that I won't be able to see him.
I've been challenged by God to give of the things that matter to me. This is something that I need to be willing about. But I'm selfish. I'm bitter. I'm wishing and waiting, and seconds still tick by at the same speed as before.
What am I complaining about? I'm not his family. I'm not a member of the group of people that have known him his whole life. I'm the girlfriend. In love with him. And we haven't even spent that much time together, but we've made a point to communicate with each other, to give the other trust and love in ways no one else can receive from us. That's why I complain. And he hasn't left yet. I get to spend five WONDERFUL days with him before he drives back, before he leaves the country until we are both a year older, with the experiences and maturity that a nineteen-year-old normally gets when they go to DC or to Africa.
Can I handle it? No. With God's guidance. Yes, I can. Yes, I am.
That's the one thing that has struck me--that I will consistently be a mess around my friends every time one of them talks about their boyfriends, or listens to a love song, unless I hold tight to the One who will not let go.
This I learned this Sunday at church, and this Monday (today) as I listened to my mother's sermon.
From Pastor Ben's sermon,
* we are all built to be dissatisfied with what we have here on earth.
This I have learned to except in my human relationships. We all have faults. We make each other angry. We can't be together when we want to all the time.
*we put out trust in the things we can see. BUT THEY ALL FALL AWAY. Who do we trust? Who should we have trusted all along?
This is when I fall again and again. This statement makes me realize that I depend altogether too much upon the people around me to hold me up. I can do it.
*All is not lost, because God can fill us up. God :), who IS so wonderfully perfect that he didn't need to have humans. BUT GOD IS LOVE, and the purpose of humanity is to enjoy a relationship of love with our God. This is how we are satisfied.
*Turn your focus away from the things that destroy and look to God.
So I'm taking steps to make this about God. It was before, but in a more superficial sort of way.
Monday's sermon. "Grateful Giver"
Mom was talking about the feeding of the five thousand, and how he had the disciples participate in the miracle. We as humans participate in the miracle and then God does the rest.
Maybe I'm participating in the miracle and if I become the inhibitor, it won't be.
Zach, I love you. I love you as you go away from me. Go. Don't hesitate. I know you need to do it. I can and I will wait until you come back for what the future. holds. Don't let me hold you back.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Meaning Behind the Meaning
So random funny weird story. We were sitting at dinner tonight, ragged. Bodner had gotten ten hourse of sleep in the past 72, and we were nagging him to go sleepy sleep, but he kept trying to lasso the Vault I had taken away from him with his lanyard... Anyway, Deanna was being random.
This is normal, mind you.
Deanna: "My nose itches. What does that mean?"
Me: (rather short thought process involving no thought) "It means you are horny."
Grace: "Wait, What?"
Me: "No. Don't listen to what I just said."
Deanna: "Really?"
Grace: "I think it means someone's thinking about you. And when your ear itches, that means someone's talking about you."
Deanna: "(to me) Wow Grace. (referring to my answer) So what's it mean when your whole face is itchy?"
Grace: "It means you want to have sex."
Me: "I thought that's what 'horny' meant."
Sorry if this is a little too blunt for your thought process. I thought you might enjoy some of the ways that freshman college students destress during midterms.... Meaning Vault, lack of sleep, nonsense, and more nonsense.
Today was great though. I got a care package (my first one, hem hem) from West Clinton Mennonite. Hallelujah! Though I don't need more food. I also got ACCEPTED INTO WASHINGTON COMMUNITY SCHOLARS CENTER!! So I'm going to DC next semester! That's quite the blessing. I really needed to do something and so far, this has been great, along with the YES thing that I am applying for.
I went to Gift and Thrift with Ellie today and went a little crazy with the yarn and crafts supplies. I am determined to make a scarf that is better than the ones that you can buy at the store and for less money. I also bought some clay for making jewelry, which my sister and I are going to do over break! I'm stoked!
Stacey is thinking about doing YES with me and I am so excited about this idea. I don't know where God is leading her, but I do know that she and I have connected really well in the few months that we have known each other, and as she is my mentor, and lives in the same area as I do, we could very well connect even more awesomely if she came to YES with me.
Speaking of current YES participants, I received a much needed surprising phone call from a very wonderful person last night. Zach was super excited to hear that I was applying for YES for next year and also that I was listening to God. I could tell by what he spoke about and what his thought processes were that he's growing so much in God, and in everything around him. He's much deeper, more contemplative. But worried about gaining weight. Oh Zach. Go run.
Running. Has been wonderful. I feel like going now, but that would call for very much lack of sleep, so I will be satisfied with running tomorrow morning I hope.
God is amazing over all. That's the lesson for this week. I'm so thankful for each person I have met and connected with and each friendship made.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Seems Like a Dream, Really
Have you ever done something that was so out of routine with normality, and was so beautiful and perfect that, it truly seemed like it didn't happen? That it was a figment of your imagination and every second you continue imagining it seems like a pointless ritual that you should quit because it didn't really happen. ---but wait! it did.
And that thought makes life seem so much better. And how could one live live with moments like these and not feel God in the world? See in the motion of the minutes you have with the one you love are truly a gift. Don't take them for granted.
This Sunday was normal except for the fact that I was awakened by a phone call at 8:00 from my boyfriend. And then I went back to sleep until eleven and avoided the idea that I skipped church. I went to lunch with some of the girls and then hung around with the rest of them. At around 12:30, it was just me and Deanna sitting at the table and as the idea popped into my head, I found myself saying, "Do you want to go to Pennsylvania with me today?"
Deanna replied, "sure." and the fun began from there.
First, I called to find out when and where we would need to be. I meant to keep it a secret from Zach, but that didn't happen, considering he knows me too well.
Then we grabbed snacks, mouthwash, and homework, stopped to get gas and then got on 81.
Although few, there were some mistakes on the spontaneity of the trip-- we didn't get directions directly to the place we were headed. Luckily Deanna is from the area and called someone to give us directions. Unfortunately, Deanna also thought she knew the way. We got to Harrisburg at 3:45. We got to Mount Joy at 5:15. We took the long way. A way involving a detour through Hershey and a quick rinse of mouthwash somewhere in Manheim...
But we got to the church without getting lost. We discovered an atlas in the car three hours into the trip.
I greeted Zach's parents, and then I saw Zach. He gave me a huge hug and smile. I also saw several other people that I knew--Chris. We talked a little, but I look forward to when I can stay at their house when visiting during family weekend. It's coming up in a few weeks. I also saw Melody Tobin. She of course didn't remember me, but I remembered her because our parents constantly receive their family's newsletter. We also saw Aaron Yutzy's sister, but did not say anything to her. She might have been freaked out.
We had some funny conversation with Denice and Toby and then there was the commissioning service. I counted it as my church for the day and enjoyed the service, especially when the worship team sang "Mighty to Save" and when the message's message was that "we as Christians stink. Let the world know!" Priceless.
And I cannot forget the time that Zach noticed I was sitting just across the way from him. He glanced over because someone was coming back to their seat and saw me and didn't see me. When he glanced again, to make sure that it was really me, he gave me a smile I can't forget easily.
Then we had the prayer circles. This was the first time that I really felt like I could be who I am in our relationship (his girlfriend) and be with God and pray with Zach and be there with him. (Every other time we have prayed together has either been on the phone or at camp, where you cannot really have a relationship.) It was closure for me. I loved that we could have that moment. I had an arm around his waist and prayed for him and thanked God for him. It was wonderful.
We hugged goodbye for a long time. There were a lot of words that weren't said in those hugs. Just squeezed me tight. We'd only been away from each other a month and will see each other again in a couple weeks. But him leaving for a good long time is looming ahead. So I savor every breath I take in your arms. And every word you couldn't say that you swept around my body with your strong grasp.
I'm leaving soon
I'm leaving here soon
Please forgive me for the
Things I forgot to say to you
I'm leaving soon
I'm leaving here soon
Please forgive me for the
Memories I left behind.
What I meant to say was goodbye
But you held me so tight
All I said was a sigh
Because I love you and I don't like this word "goodbye"
So can we stay in this embrace forever
Can the sun come up and down and never find us?
Could we just swallow our words
Until tomorrow it's absurd to let go
But I'm letting go now
I'm missing you
I really miss you
I'm reminded of the
Things I wanted to say to you
I'm missing you
I really miss you
I'm surrounded by the
Memories left in my heart
What I remember are the times
That you held me so tight
And I remember those lines I meant to say
But no words could express what your love did
So can we stay in this embrace forever?
Can the sun come up and down and never find us?
Could we just swallow our words until tomorrow
It's absurd to let go
Please don't let go now.
Every second we drove away made it seem more and more like a beautiful dream that I could tell my friends of later. But it was true. It is true. Maybe all the good moments of life feel like they are dreams later on so that we realize that we need to savor them as we are in the moment. And so that we do not forget the beautiful things that happen.
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