Collapsible Lung Revisited

As many Relient K fan friends of mine may know, I wrote a review in September depicting my distaste for the lyrical content of their newest album, Collapsible Lung.

I am mistaken in my opinion.

Jon tried to tell me the whole point of the album, but it was too soon for me to hear. I wasn't ready to listen. My idea of what Relient K is supposed to be was not being filled. My expectations weren't being met and how dare they deviate from my scheme of what a "secretly Christian" band should be.

Hmmm. Let me expand on that. In my mind, there are two kinds of Christian bands: openly Christian and secretly Christian. Openly Christian bands are supposed to produce nice worship music for all the Christian radio stations to blare like they actually mean it. Words like "glory," "fire," and "reign" are supposed to be thrown around frequently in the lyrics.

Secretly Christian bands (like Relient K) have a special place in my heart. They are supposed to write about whatever they want, as long as the undertones are always Christian. They're supposed to trick non-Christians into listening to their stuff because it's "cool" so that listeners somehow magically discover Jesus through the subtlety. You know, for example, This may sound like a love song to you, but really it's about our love for Jesus. Gotcha!

In fact, when Jon told me what he had read in a positive review, I said, "That's not how people get reached." I'm an idiot.

To make myself look really hypocritical, I'll have you know that when many RK fans were critiquing the album for its pop sound (the band having been historically more of a rock band), I thought they were just being so dumb for their closed-minded opinion. The musicality of the album is fantastic. The sound is great.

It's been years and several albums since Relient K has stuck to that old school rock sound they once had. People in their early- to mid-twenties love RK because they listened to them in middle school and going to concerts is like reliving the good ol' days. But when they hear newer (much improved) music by them, they say it's just not the same.

I totally judge(d) people for this. Relient K's sound gets better and more refined with each album. And they know how to mix things up. So people who think they need to stay forever the same are dumb, obviously.

But, like I said in my post in September, the lyrics were shallow and empty and stupid and didn't sound Christian to me, so of course I highly disapproved. Pardon me while I throw up.

Then I finally accidentally found Stephen Shutter's review (which had Jon semi-quoted to me) and I saw the Collapsible Lung in a new light. I highly recommend you read review this for the full effect of what I am about to say.

Here's why I was wrong:

First of all, the shallowness was not an accident or a sign that Matt Thiessen had reached moral ruin and was no longer worthy of my listening ears. They did it on purpose. To actually make a point. Realizing this was the difference between me disgustedly hearing, Look at me! I'm sinning! Wheeeee! and compassionately hearing, I'm a sinner. Look at my sin. I'm pathetic.

As Mr. Shutters says in his review, the album tells a continuation of the story of Matt Thiessen's fiancé leaving him and how he dealt with the heartbreak and the inability to find as much meaning in his life. As depicted in Collapsible Lung, he turned to things other than God and finally realized that those things got him nowhere; it was ultimately God who was his only source of joy and meaning.

Yeah, I failed to pick up on that. I have never been one to listen to an album as a whole. I never cared to try and nail down the story laced through the songs. And I certainly never cared too much about the lives or even the names of the artists themselves. But does that mean they're not living their lives? That they're just supposed to be little worship machines (because that's glorifying to God)? And does that mean that they aren't struggling with things on a daily basis that compulsively end up reflected in the lyrics?

Relient K did something artful. Read Mr. Shutter's review to know what that was. I fully support his analysis. Just because I was too dense to pick up on it doesn't mean it wasn't beautiful, creative, or glorifying to God.

Besides, who am I to put Relient K, of all bands, into a box? Shame on me.

They've gotten a lot of crap for their album from many of their fans. But I need to finally acknowledge that as artists, they had every right to write and produce what they did, whether I like it or not. They did it for a reason.

The day this finally hit me felt like a few weeks ago when I finally reconciled my friendship with Max. Basically, our friendship had been put on hold for a time while I sorted through things, but my need for that withholding passed long before I dared to say "time in." When I finally did, I felt slightly ashamed, but mostly relieved that we could be friends again. After we finally had an "it's all okay now" conversation, we hugged.

Re-listening to Collapsible Lung with fresh ears felt like that hard conversation. Listening to the album again felt like the long-awaited hug.

Relient K... will you be my friend again?

Me and Matt Thiessen, May 2013

God bless.

Locks of Love

I have donated hair four times in my life, and all four times my ponytails were sent to Locks of Love.

Over a period of six years, I underwent a cycle of growing my hair out and cutting it short, growing it out, cutting it short. In fact, the biggest thing holding me back from getting dreadlocks when I was 19 was the fact that it would halt my giving.

And now that my dreads are gone and my hair is growing out again, I have every intention of going back to my cycle of growing and cutting.

Except this time, I won't be giving to Locks of Love.

Many people are aware of the sketchiness of Locks of Love. But not enough. A lot of my friends donate their hair, and half of them say, "No, I would never donate to Locks of Love. I know better than that," while the other half are still saying, "Yeah, I gave to Locks of Love, why?"

I don't need to copy and paste statistics for you. The data is already out there:
http://newsfeed.time.com/2013/05/17/report-locks-of-love-lost-6-6-million-worth-of-donated-hair/
http://badhairday.typepad.com/bad_hair_day/2006/07/locks_of_love_i.html
http://www.lovelyish.com/2013/05/17/locks-of-love-tangled-in-scandal/

However, just to sum up:
Locks of Love sells many of their hair donations.
They allegedly do not keep track of donations.
Although much hair they receive is unusable, there are still way too many hair donations unaccounted for.
They do not give charitably to children who need wigs, but rather sell wigs to children with diseases such as alopecia areata. They also may or may not sell donated hair to other organizations for a profit.
In other words, their intake of hair and monetary donations is high, but their output of wigs to needy children is low.

I don't know how much of this is true. In fact, Locks of Love says on their website, "In no way is Locks of Love associated with or an affiliate of any for-profit hair replacement business." They also began listing documents of their finances on their website.

But I still don't trust Locks of Love. Although I learned of this "scandal" not long after my last hair donation, I have seen many women give to them since. The news isn't getting out there fast enough, so I just wanted people to hear it from me.

Remember that hair donation is good, and there are several great, trustworthy organizations out there, such as Pantene Beautiful Lengths and Wigs for Kids (among others) that will accept hair donations and that we know will responsibly do with them what they promise.

For funsies, before and after donation pictures at age 16:

God bless.

Tired Introverts

I was going to make a graph depicting what I am about to explain (like I did a couple posts ago), but the process of creating and explaining the graph itself may be more trouble than it's worth. I am a words person, not a graph person, anyway, right?

Look, I'm an introvert. A lot of my close friends know this; a lot of acquaintances do not.

There's a whole movement of introverts quietly taking a stand for who they are and how they ought to be treated, yada, yada, yada.

I am going to unoriginally add to that movement.

I just finished a personality psychology course in which I discovered that almost every major personality test includes an introversion/extraversion spectrum and on almost every spectrum, introversion is described or viewed negatively. I'd give you some examples, but my brain rejected them so much that I can't recall any. I think being an introvert is wonderful.

MYTH: Introverts hate people.
FACT: People make introverts tired.

We are not a bunch of lethargics because of this, of course. We just manage our time spent with people differently than most extraverts.

There are two basic factors that determine how tired I am at the end of a social interaction: number of people and how well I know the people I am interacting with. The dependent variable, so to speak, is how quickly I tire.

Here are a few samples:

 I am able to spend long hours (the whole day, in fact) with a close friend and not tire or wish to escape and be alone. Why? Because she is only one person at a time, and because I know her quite well. The same applies to my future husband or close family members. Even still, there is some relief when I am left alone after spending time with people like this.

A large group of people where I hardly know anyone is, of course, the opposite. I tire very quickly and it doesn't take long in those situations for me to have the desire to run away and have some peace. If I can't escape, I zone out and get the alone time in my own head; I become a wallflower. I'm not against new people. I'm not against making friends. I just don't have the stamina to take all that in all at once. I can maybe go an hour before I start shutting down.

Then there are the happy mediums. The smallish groups of people where I know everyone moderately well, the one person whom I've just met, and the large group of people where I know everyone very well, all tire me eventually: much sooner than a close friend and much more slowly than a roomful of unfamiliar faces.

And that's basically it. I probably haven't told you anything you didn't already know about introverts, so you're welcome for wasting your time.

Also, I don't hate you, and I do get tired of being alone sometimes, so please be my friend. My primary "love language" is quality time, so time spent with people I care about, even if I get tired, is valuable to me.


God bless.

The Right Way to Date

Dating is an art, a dance, okay, we all know that. Women and men alike should have high standards; that's okay.

But I see young women (girls, really) posting things like this all the time:

Yeah, because there is a formula for true love, don't you know?

Is that so?

Because if a guy can't read your mind, he's basically as worthless as your communication skills.

Frankly, these girls will probably get over their weird expectations as they mature (hopefully). But my problem with this is more that they profess there is one right way to date.

In my experience, many Christian men and women alike, have this problem. They think they've "figured it out" (even though God's will can't/shouldn't be boxed like that).

There are two main mindsets that Christians have on dating: The first is the anti-dating mindset. Now, these people aren't entirely anti-dating, but if you're going to date somebody, you better darn-well know they're your future spouse before you do. Why? Because God has someone picked out for you, is in control, and cares about this area of your life and we would be remiss if we submitted to our cultural norms instead of insisting on being "set apart" in this way. I see this, for example, in the book I just read, Sacred Singleness, and in music lyrics that proclaim, "No more dating, I'm just waiting. Like Sleeping Beauty, my prince will come for me."

The other mindset is the pro-dating mindset. There's a book out there (which I admittedly have not read, but have read many online articles about dating by the same author) called True Love Dates. The idea here is that the "anti-dating" dating world is a minefield and therefore we should reject it and not make it such a bizarre jeopardy. They say, "Why can't we just date?"and encourage young singles to get out there and get coffee with each other and ask each other on dates with no strings attached. Just getting to know each other and see where it leads. Why? Because there is no such thing as soul-mates and God allows us to make our own decisions as mature, adult Christians.

I disagree with both mindsets, not because I believe either side is inherently wrong, but because I just don't think there's one strict cookie-cutter way for people to do things like this. 

There are some (like me) that date around, make mistakes, and learn lessons. I made a decision this summer to stop pursuing men, as I have sinned in this way in the past.

There are others that are overly cautious and have never dated and refuse to date because they simply haven't found "the one." These people will hopefully come to the conclusion that they need to loosen up a little and realize that it's okay for relationships to come and go. If you think you have found "the one," it's also really not the end of the world if you and that person eventually break up (which I also have experienced).

The thing is, not only does every relationship look different, but every healthy relationship looks different.

Another thing that I've noticed women talking about is the standard that guys should always be clear with where they're at in the relationship and not leave women wondering. This pops up a lot in both Christian and "secular" dating literature. I've heard things said like, "If you have to DTR (define the relationship), then there's a problem because there should never be any question about where either of you stand." But to claim that the need for a DTR is a sign of poor communication is to deny that the essence of a DTR is communication!

I hear people say that a guy should be upfront and ask women on dates instead of having a misty "hanging out" period that leaves girls wondering. He should bring her flowers and she should not think it's creepy or too forward. 

There is a ton of criticism for the "steps" people have in this culture's dating world. First you're "hanging out." Then you're "talking." Then you profess that you like each other (maybe). Then you're "dating but not really." Then you're "officially dating." Then you're "getting serious." Then you're "talking about marriage." Then you're "waiting for him to pop the question." Then you're engaged. Then you're married. Phew!

Then again... so what? Why does that need to be criticized? It's a lot to keep track of, maybe, but is there really a problem here? On the other hand, does it really matter if a couple decides to deviate from this standard progression? My grandparents met on a blind date and were engaged six weeks later. Why does there have to be a "right way"?

Here is what I am currently learning: Transitional periods are okay. Gray area is okay. Dating is okay, and refraining from dating is okay. Lack of communication is not okay. Being overly communicative is not okay (if anyone wants to know what I mean by that, ask me and I will write you a whole 'nother blog post about it...). There are many wrong ways to date, but there are also many right ways to date.

God bless.

Facebook > Pinterest

This websites are not novel. Everyone has known about them for a while now. It's not super-trendy anymore to say, "Like our company/band/nonprofit on Facebook!" It's just standard. The concept of social media is old news, normal life. But I feel the need to talk about these two: Facebook and Pinterest again.

I've been addicted to Facebook for the last five years.
My profile picture has gone from looking like this:

To this:

To this:

There's been times when it's been terrible for me, this addiction, but most of the time I don't think it's even really a problem. There have been times when Facebook has been such a blessing, in fact.

1) Facebook people share all kinds of articles that I can read. Sometimes they're just stupid time-wasting buzzfeeds, but other times they shine a bit of wisdom or insight into my life, which I love to just soak up. I also learn a little bit about the person who posted it.

2) Connections with old friends, relatives, whatever, are priceless. Nobody has the time to talk on the phone or write letters anymore (quite unfortunately, although the latter I still make an effort to do sometimes), and even texting isn't something you normally do with people you aren't already in contact with on a daily basis. However, when that person you haven't heard from in a while but still care about posts something on Facebook, you get a glimpse into their life. You can leave a comment. You can simply "like" it. Boom, done. Connection made. Maybe it's a cheap connection, but it's still a connection that wouldn't have been made at all if not for Facebook, and that's worth something to me.

3) Following that up, conversations--yes, actual (albeit digital) conversations--pop up all the time if you're trying to make it happen. If my friend posts a status about how they're not having a good day, it doesn't take much for me to message them and ask them about it. I've made friends this way. Friends I've never met in real life but have an invaluable relationship with over Facebook. (Don't worry; I'm wary of creepers.) Maybe this isn't really all that different from texting, but sometimes it's easier.

Facebook is, I believe, good for me overall. I have thought about getting off before, because I truly believe it's an addiction sometimes. I'm not really afraid of "radical" life change, remember? But I legitimately think the pros outweigh the cons.


Pinterest, on the other hand. Wow. How can any modern lady not love Pinterest, right? DIYs, ideas for snacks and our hair and our future wedding and entertainment for our future kiddos. It's seriously the best thing ever. At first glance.

But then, for me, the longing starts. I start hating my life and everything in it because it's not as picture-perfect as Pinterest tells me it can be.

I don't have gorgeous long hair that I can braid and try all these adorable fancy up-dos on. My hair is short and straight and looks the same almost every day.

I'm not actually planning a wedding, and even if I were, a day is only 24 hours and a party's just a party. In fact, marriage is not even a first priority for me right now (until I see all those pretty wedding dresses on Pinterest, am I right?).

I can't just make an sweet potato avocado burger, even if I want to. I just can't. I don't even have my own kitchen yet.

I can't just pack it all up and go on a month-long backpacking trip in the mountains of Ireland like the pictures tell me I can. I have real-life duties, even if those duties are still just going to class.

I can't actually have a house with a backyard patio that somehow magically turns into a swimming pool or have a huge entertainment center with a rustic fireplace and ombré pink walls for the baby's room.

And I really just can't make 90% of the adorable DIYs that they say are easy-peasy and cheap. I literally lack the creative capacity, finances, and time to do them.

When I look at all these pictures, I get jealous. A lot of people experience Facebook envy, but not me; for me it's Pinterest. I don't even have a one person to be jealous of. I'm just jealous of an ideal. I become dissatisfied. It's disgusting. Not only is it one of the biggest time-wasters ever, it's one of the biggest breeders of discontent. Awesome.

Then again, when I go home (and have a kitchen at my disposal) and think, "Hmm, what should I make for breakfast?", I will know exactly where to find a recipe for homemade strawberry nutella poptarts. And...is that really so wrong??

Be cognizant of your use of social media.


God bless.

The Emotions (or Categories) of Music

I apologize for my alarming lack of blog posts in November. It seems I have been overrun with school work and have not had the time to write. I have come up with many ideas for posts this month, but simply had no time to actually write them. This post is a product of this brainstorming period. I anticipate posting a lot this month, as I will have more time to do so, and have so many posts stewing in my head already.


I have always been baffled by the way people say they can derive emotion from music, or even write emotion into music. Call me a bad musician, but when I listen to music, although I may hear anger, heart-brokenness, light-heartedness, etc., I rarely ever feel those things as a result of hearing the music (unless the words themselves drive me to such an emotional state).

I thought about this as I listened to a concert several weeks ago. I thought, well, what do I experience when I listen to music?

I decided that for me, there are two main categories that music can be under, and three subcategories.

The two main categories are: meaningful and non-meaningful. Meaningful music means that there are probably words, and that those words hold a certain weight to them that I can connect with and that may induce further emotions in me. Non-meaningful music may or may not have words, but if it does, those words hold no significant emotional weight to them to me. It is rare that a wordless song is meaningful to me. (One that is, for example, is The Crisis by Ennio Morricone. Don't ask.) All music falls under one of these two categories.

The three subcategories, each which can and must fall under either meaningful or non-meaningful music, are: cool, beautiful, and boring. Any given piece of music must fit into one or some combination of two of these three categories, but it cannot fit into all three.

Here are two almost identical charts which should help illustrate what I am trying to say. All music falls into one of these two charts for me. (Please disregard the 33.3333s. Those are just there because I wanted the three subcategories to be of the same size.)

Although these graphs show the three subcategories as three distinct categories, think of the categories as more like a spectrum that wraps around into a circle-shape. Any given song can fall anywhere in or between these three categories. Placing a piece of music more toward the center or more toward the edge has no significant meaning to me as of yet. That is to say that degrees of each trait creates too complicated of a system for me to really assess music that way.

To help you understand, I'll give you a few examples of what songs might fall where. The song Babies by The 1900s just came onto my iTunes. I barely know this song and I don't know any of the words, so I would put it into the non-meaningful category, but it sounds pretty cool. It is not boring and it is not beautiful. It's kind of dead-center cool.

The song Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) by Hillsong United would be meaningful to me, and is beautiful but not cool. It is slightly boring because it is long and repetitive, but it is mostly beautiful.

In case you were wondering if there's such a thing as a meaningful, boring-sounding song, I Could Sing of Your Love Forever by Delirious? is a good example. Meaningful and little beautiful, but mostly boring.

My ideal song is, not surprisingly, a meaningful song with some combination of cool and beautiful. A good example of that is Dry Bones by Gungor or House of the Rising Sun by The Animals.

This is, I guess, how I experience music. Now you know.


God bless.

25 Words (Another Post About My Alaskan Adventure)

This post is in fulfillment of a challenge my cousin, Chris, gave me: to write a blog post using every word on this list.

Since many of these words are not actually in the English language, I suggest you keep this list open in another tab to refer to as you read this post. Don't worry, you'll know one of these unusual words when you run into one. I am going to write about experiences that I very well may have already described on my blog, but when I was reading through the list of words, my mind kept going back to Alaska, so I knew that's what I had to write about. Here's to hoping I am grammatically correct with my usage...


When I was considering what I would do with my 2013 summer, I was initially planning on just working at camp again, except this time as a program leader instead of a camp counselor. Big step up, you know. That fall, though, I experienced some major fernweh, especially, for some reason, for Jamaica. I really wanted to embark on a dérive, but peacing out is easier said than done; I needed to plan something. It also started occurring to me that going back to camp would be an area of koyaanisqatsi for me, and that I really needed to make a change and step outside of my comfort zone. Going back to camp would be allowing my faith to become or remain stagnant when it needed very much to grow. This prodding of my heart that God was giving to me led to my trips to both Kingston, Jamaica in the spring and Juneau, Alaska in the summer.

The first women's campout this summer was certainly an experience I'll never forget. I made multiple efforts to integrate myself into friendships with these strangers and was mildly successful. They all saw me as the quiet one, but I wasn't satisfied with that. I knew that was who I naturally was, but I valued depth in relationships with these Godly women more than my own reserve. When I scrambled up to a perch to join three of them that were watching the sunset over the mountains and ocean bay, with whales coming up for air and bald eagles soaring into and out of the tall evergreen forest, we all felt incredibly overwhelmed by this numinous blessing from God. We had found a smultronställe; we were even considering pinching ourselves to assure that what we were experiencing was, in fact, real. When we left the campsite the next morning, I'm sure we all wished we had left our sillage there, when in reality, that place and that experience left sillage in all of us. Aside from the incredibly beautiful flight into Juneau, the moments from that camping trip were my first Erlebnisse of the summer.

Our third camping trip was on a smallish island not far from "the valley" where we lived. The weather was lovely and I longed to explore. There were a few paths that led to the top of a hill right above where we camped, so I went up there, but I wasn't done. Realizing that I had the power to tramp anywhere I pleased, I was filled with vorfreude. I felt transformed into a nemophilist, just like Chris McCandless! Well, not quite, but that's how I felt. I roamed all over that island, way beyond where any trails were blazed, along the rocky beach on the other side and up and over the big hill that I pretended was a small mountain.

I worked at Juneau's Walmart for the summer. It wasn't the best job in the world, and I really experienced Weltanschauung there because of being surrounded by materialism, excess, and love of money and wealth. There was one moment I distinctly remember when I and my colleagues were working in trailers in the parking lot. Since there are literally mountains in every direction in Juneau, I remember looking from the paved ground to the grand and green mountain in front of me and feeling that the parking lot on which I was standing was extremely unreal and unnatural. I told my friend Elizabeth about this, asking if she ever felt like she wasn't on Planet Earth. She didn't understand my question at first, but I prodded her, giving her an ostranenie (really unsure about the grammar for that one).

My sister is self-diagnosed with tsundoku. (I don't know how to truly incorporate that word into this post, sorry.)

I also can't recall a time from this summer, or any time worth really noting, that I experienced or participated in mamihlapinatapai.

The best friend I made this summer was Lauren. Together, we enjoyed long talks about Jesus and boys, the occasional cry, acting like goofs, and hand cuddling. We also loved to cafuné, which got even funner when I let her trim my hair after everyone took turns at cutting my dreads. Recently, after the school year started, she and her boyfriend got engaged and I called her up, sharing in firgun with her (also unsure about the grammar here). It was because of her Godly wisdom, in part, that I drew nearer to a state of sophrosyne about multiple issues in my life.

I also remember a moment of near rasasvada toward the end of the summer when I looked into the sky around midnight and for the first time since I arrived there, saw stars. (Because of the long hours of daylight in the summertime, it previously never got dark enough for any to appear, at least in any quantity.) I was too tired to think very hard about it except to be in awe and excitement over what I was seeing. At the same time, I felt humbled, and a sense of acatalepsy came over me in the face of the bigness of God.

In some ways, this summer turned me into a nefelibata. I have always sort of longed to march to the beat of a different drum, and several lifestyle changes have allowed for that. I experienced a real metanoia that I am still watching unfold. Because of the power of the Lord, I saw orenda ripple-effect because of me into the people around me. While I may not believe in meliorism, I do believe that God can change lives drastically. He changed mine, and he's changed others' through and around me.

Since returning to our home states, I and many other people that were on Project with me have felt strong hiraeth for Alaska. However, I feel sehnsucht much more strongly for a place where Jesus, my Project friends, all believers I know and love, and all believers that have ever lived, and I will all finally live together, in our gezellig Heavenly home.


God bless.

Why Halloween is Not My Friend

Never in my life have I gone trick-or-treating. The only time I ever resented that was when I was in 8th grade and all my friends were going and I wasn't allowed to join. (So unfair.)

That's because, my entire life, my family didn't celebrate Halloween.

Now, before you go feeling sorry for me and my deprived childhood, please know that my parents took care to not be the "grinches of Halloween." My sister and I weren't allowed to attend class Halloween parties at school, so instead, my mom, who was actually a teacher at my elementary school I attended, would get a substitute teacher and take my sister and I out someplace fun that was not related to Halloween. We would see a movie or go to the local indoor playground, and I never felt like I was missing out on anything. Also, we still passed out candy on Beggar's Night, and it was fun seeing all the other kids' costumes.

We also usually had an abundance of candy year-round.

I feel like I had to ask my mom every year why our family didn't celebrate Halloween. Even though I started disliking this time of year by the time I high school, I couldn't fully explain why I was personally against Halloween until now. Here is my argument about why I don't like Halloween, based solely on my own thoughts, the Bible, and unbiased sources.

1. Theme of death

All around there are skeletons, ghosts, mummies, zombies, and blood. Frankly, I don't see how all these dead things glorify the God of Life in any way.

Genesis 2:7 "Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being."

John 11:43-44 "When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, 'Lazarus, come out!' The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, 'Take off the grave clothes and let him go.'"

John 1:4 "In [Jesus] was life, and that life was the light of all mankind."

John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

Revelation 1:18 "I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever!"

2. Theme of fear

Many decorations, costumes, and traditions surrounding Halloween attempt to instill a sense of fear. Haunted houses, decorations of spiders in faux cobwebs, monsters, horror movies, and all the death-related items listed above, to name a few. I truly believe that fear is completely of the devil.

2 Timothy 1:7 "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline."

1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

Deuteronomy 31:6 "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

Also, the Bible uses the phrase "Do not fear" or "Do not be afraid" almost 150 times. (http://pastormark.tv/2012/05/09/4-reasons-why-we-fear)

3. Pagan roots

History shows that Halloween started as an ancient Celtic tradition where a bonfire and animal skin costumes warded off roaming ghosts. Sure, Pope Gregory III made a lame attempt to "Christianize" the day, but it clearly didn't stick. There is nothing "Christian" about Halloween today. (Feel free to call me intolerant of other religions.) (http://www.history.com/topics/halloween, http://www.halloweenhistory.org/)

4. Virtue of greed

While adults are greedy for money, children are greedy for candy. (I see a similar problem here in Easter and Christmas, but that's a topic for another day.) Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with giving children candy, but as they age, they start to understand that if they come up with a clever costume, if they visit more houses, etc., they can get more candy. More, more, more, gimme, gimme, gimme. This is obviously sinful and does not in any way foster generosity. (However, my 7th grade boyfriend very sweetly gave me an entire gallon-bag full of his Halloween candy, since I hadn't acquired any myself.)

Proverbs 15:27 "The greedy bring ruin to their households, but the one who hates bribes will live."

Luke 12:15 "Then [Jesus] said to them, 'Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.'"

Sure there are some "harmless" aspects to Halloween. Like I said, giving children candy is not inherently wrong, nor is dressing up your two-year-old as a pumpkin. But I personally am glad that I do not (and never have) celebrate a holiday that is so closely associated with many kinds of evil, and I am happy that my parents prayerfully considered their decision to keep me away from it as a child.

God bless.

Letting Go of Marriage

I have to be honest: marriage is something I've always looked forward to. Literally my whole life. I was roughly preschool-aged when I got my first crush. Even as a little girl (before I had a clue about the birds and the bees), I lied in bed and wondered what it must be like to have someone lying in bed beside me, looking into my eyes as we fell asleep.

In pursuit of my dream of marriage, I have made some rough mistakes:

-I got my first "boyfriend" at age 11 (mostly because my friend pressured me into it. Evidently, she found it preposterous that I had never had one before!)
-I had other boyfriends after that, throughout middle school and into high school. Nothing too long, no relationships that were too close together, but still. Nothing worthwhile either.
-When I finally landed a really great guy, I nagged and pressured him to be perfect. I'm aware that certain wives do this, and I'm blessed to have learned my lesson early on, even though he eventually pushed me away because of it.
-I settled for another "Christian" guy with little passion for Christ and with very little backbone. Meanwhile I selfishly pressured him to do things he wasn't ready for.


This is far from a laundry list of errors. I'd rather not share all my sins with the general public. Not today, anyway.

But there was something I had wrong the whole time: marriage is not the answer, the ending, or the cure.

Marriage is not something for a woman to pursue. Marriage is not going to fix loneliness. Marriage is not found easily. Marriage should not be manipulated (and neither should men). Marriage will not replace my relationship with Christ.

I don't know what messed me up. I don't know what went wrong growing up to make me this way. I've said to friends before, "I don't know, I'm just wired to be boy-crazy!"

I suppose that's what makes me feminine. It's normal for me to be attracted to men! But it's not okay for me to look at every nice, attractive young man I see and search their face for any sign that they like me, any sign that "this one might work." In fact, that's totally selfish. But it's what I do. It's the sin I still face daily.

So anyway, here's what God has been working on me recently:

-Not noticing guys (this one is taking a long time to get the hang of)
-Reading the book "Sacred Singleness" by Leslie Ludy and starting to come to terms with my singleness; even begin to enjoy and thrive in it
-Diving into a more intimate relationship with him. This takes on many forms: I try to go on weekly dates with Jesus, converse with him daily, sing to him. Tonight on a long drive, I played CDs full of love songs and sang along to him.
-Letting go of my dreams of marriage. It's slowly working! Honestly, romance is one of the last things I want in my life right now. The whole idea of "romance" kind of makes me gag. Well, that's an exaggeration, but what I really want in relationships (with Jesus, friends, a husband, etc.) is intimacy, companionship, honesty, service, and quality time. If a man wants to woo me, he's not going to succeed if he offers me "I love you"'s and rose petals and red hearts and kisses and a big shiny rock. No, he's going to have to do it the same way Jesus is doing it, because Jesus' way is working.

I am falling more and more in love with him. It's a battle, because the devil is always pulling me back, but I will keep pushing toward Christ as he pushes toward me until the day when we can finally be united in each others' arms, literally married for eternity. (By the way, did it ever occur to you that our relationship with God is not a metaphor for marriage, but marriage is a metaphor of our relationship with God? That is the real deal. An earthly marriage is only temporary.)

It's a work in progress. You may see more about these heart changes in me later. To see how this all kind of got rolling, please read this excellent post from a few months ago: Femininity. If you read it and are wondering: Yes, I do wear skirts every day now, and I love it! I do think it subtly reminds me of who I am: a beloved woman of Christ.

By the way, a huge thank you to women in my life like my Aunt Amy and Debbie Douglass who show me what it's like to be Godly, content, thriving single women. If I never get married, I would be overjoyed to be like them.


God bless.

How Dreads Saved My Hair

When I first got dreadlocks back in August 2011, someone made the comment that I had destroyed my hair--didn't I know that?!

Of course I knew that my hairs were broken, that if I tried to undo my dreadlocks, I would have an irreparable bird's nest on my head. But why did it matter? My dreads would never come undone. To this day, they are still as tightly knotted as ever, even if not on my head.

But didn't I know that I had to cut them off to get rid of them??

Yes. I mean, not to be rude, but duh. I'm not the kind of person to neglect to think ahead like that. The dreads were meant to be long-term, but not permanent, and even before I got them I intended to someday cut them off. And yes I knew that that would mean my hair would be short.

But dreads did not ruin my hair. They saved it. And, to some small degree, they saved my wallet.

I used to wash and condition my hair every day. If I went more than 24 hours without washing, my air looked greasy and nasty, so I never considered washing it less often until dreads required me to.

Suddenly, I was only washing my hair twice a week. Eventually, it became once a week. My hair had a rough time at first, but it slowly adjusted. My scalp finally started producing much less oil.

Now that my dreads are gone, my hair is quite healthy, and I still only wash it with soap about once a week. I still haven't touched "real" shampoo or conditioner in over two years.

I'm finishing up my dread shampoo now, which takes a while because of how little I need with short hair and how infrequently I use it. When it's gone, I'm switching to a baking soda homemade shampoo with an apple cider vinegar rinse. Obviously baking soda mixed with water and apple cider vinegar mixed with water is much cheaper than "real" shampoo and conditioner.

I am proud of this. I actually brag that I only wash my hair once a week. That's all I need to. I wash it a few times a week with just water (scrubbing/massaging my scalp in the shower), which helps keep it nice between real washings.

My hair produces a very small amount of oil. This is actually really good. No shampoo is stripping my hair and scalp of moisture and nutrients, so my scalp doesn't have to overcompensate by producing masses of oil like it used to. I don't need head-and-shoulders anymore because I don't get dandruff because I don't have a dryness problem, either.

I'm not crazy enough (yet) to use even weirder things to wash my hair like beer, mayonnaise, bananas, or eggs (although I hear they all do wonders).

My hair is thick, shiny, soft, and moisturized. It's super healthy, perhaps healthier than it's ever been. I never would have gotten to this point if getting dreads hadn't forced me to cut down drastically on my shampoo use.

Not endorsing Dr Pepper or anything, this was just the only recent photo of me where you could see my short hair up-close.

Dreads. Saved. My hair.


God bless.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close: A book review

About an hour ago, perhaps, I finished reading Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. Apparently it is also a movie, but I have not seen it and probably will not make a strong effort to, because the book works so well as a book and I don't see how a movie could do it justice at all. People that I've talked to who have read the book and seen the movie actually do say that the movie does not do the book justice, although they say it is still a good movie.

Anyway.

I strongly recommend this book. Even though it will make you sad, or very sad, it will probably actually be worth it. It was for me.

Halfway through, I was reading it in my friend Travis's room when I looked up and told him that he would like the book because of the way it's written and the way it makes you think a lot and the way it uses interesting, unexpected words, which Travis is in the habit of doing. So he told me that he would consider reading it when I finish.

So, even though I left a few notes in the pages for Travis (which I will not describe to you on the off-chance he reads this post), I'm not going to lend it to him right away because, believe it or not, I had to read the book for a class, and we haven't been tested on it yet.

It was for Social/Personality Psychology, which is taught by a professor whom I very much disliked last time I had a class with him, on account of his conceit and because he offended and embarrassed me once. I'm warming up to him a little now though. A little.

I don't know what the book has to do with Social/Personality Psychology. I'm a psychology major. I should be able to pick up on this sort of thing. But I can't think of things like this academically, which is why I want to go into counseling, not research, and why I've never taken a class on the Bible.

Of course the boy in the book has a strong and extremely interesting personality, but how can I describe it? I love the way he thinks, but I have no idea how he thinks.

Anyway, what should I say about the book? What can I say about the book?

It made me think a lot about war. It made me spend a solid 45 minutes watching 9/11/2001 TV coverage on youtube, and many more minutes replaying that coverage in my mind, as well as thinking back to my experiences that day and how clueless I was to the significance of it. I was nine years old. The main character in the book was seven.

It made me think about safety and how much of an illusion it is. How any moment, a terrorist attack could become a reality for me, or a shooting, or a car accident, or some bizarre freak thing like me or someone I love falling out of bed and breaking my/their neck.

It made me think about safety and how much of a reality it is for me. How death could happen at any moment, and when that moment comes, I will, without question, become more alive than ever before. How I am absolutely assured of eternal life in paradise, no matter what happens to me here on this alien planet. Most of the people in the book, including the main character, do not believe in God, but the book still caused me to think about these things.

I certainly don't look forward to dying, but I certainly look forward to death because of what it means for me. Don't worry, I'll wait, of course.

The book made me think about children and how fragile they are. It made me think about the importance of friendship and family.

The book made me think about language: the way people talk, the words they use, and how people convey meaning.

I suppose the book made me think about love, but not in a way that I've never thought about love before. I think the book was about love in many ways, but isn't that normal? Isn't life about love in many ways?

The book made me think of more things, but those were the big things, and I've just about had enough metacognition for one night.

I highly recommend this book. I hope that it does not make you too sad. It's a fine piece of literature, and even, sometimes, fun to read. I couldn't put it down. The ending was not sad.


God bless.

How to Snoop: A book review

For Social/personality Psychology, I read a book called SNOOP: What your stuff says about you by Dr. Sam Gosling. I have a group presentation on it on Monday, but that is muchly beside the point.

Here's what I learned: snooping is hard. That is, creeping on people's stuff and living spaces and making inferences about their personality based on your findings is easier read than done.

The most obvious person to snoop on is my fabulous roommate, Jessi. But even that has left me stumped. Maybe it would be easier with someone I don't know, to go into their room and say, "This person is probably like this" before I ever meet them. Theoretically (although it was not written at all to be a self-help book), SNOOP can help me make judgments about people: prospective boyfriends, friends, coworkers, whatever. But I can't even figure out myself that well based on what I read.

I'm supposed to, specifically, use my findings to determine the personality traits included in the OCEAN Big Five: Openness, Conscientiousness, Extraverted, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism.

Here's how I rank (roughly) based on my snooping on myself:
I rank just a little above-average on openness.
I rank pretty highly on conscientiousness.
No evidence based on my belongings whether or not I rank highly in extraversion (although I already know that I rank pretty low).
Also no evidence on whether or not I rank highly in agreeableness (although I think I am a little below-average).
I am above average on neuroticism.

Here's why:

Openness is determined by weirdness of stuff (my words, not Dr. Gosling's.), as well as craft supplies and variety of books. I think decorations also might have something to do with it.

I have a few weird things, like a glass bottle of bassoon reeds and a rug made out of cut-up t-shirts. I would also have a vase with my dreads sticking out of it if it didn't gross/weird out my roommate. I don't have a huge variety of books, though. I have craft supplies (mostly paper) that I don't use a whole lot, because although I'm not crafty, sometimes I like to pretend I am. And I always like to have my space decorated, of course.

Conscientiousness is determined by maintained organization and a sense of everything having "its place."

I may not be a minimalist by any means, but everything certainly has a place, of course. I am very particular about the way I fold my underwear (and was practically flabbergasted last year when I found out that my roommate, Amy, doesn't fold hers at all!). Dirty clothes go in the basket on the right side of my closet, and worn-but-not-dirty-enough-to-be-washed-yet go in a pile in front of my closet. (Like I said, not obviously organized, but if someone messed with this system, I would be pretty upset.) I maintain an alphabetized system of organizing my DVDs. In fact, the only thing in my room that I can think of that doesn't have a system or rightful place is my desk drawer, which is more or less "miscellaneous" junk anyway.

Neuroticism is only determined (in living spaces) by motivational posters. Which I have a few of, in the form of Bible verses. That's just great.

Well, anyway. I feel like I've talked about myself too much, but isn't that what people with blogs are supposed to do on their blogs?

Basically, the book was very interesting, and very unhelpful. I recommend it.

UPDATE: So I was a little off on some of my personality traits according to the online test I took at outofservice.com/bigfive. I'm in the 2nd percentile for openness ("You prefer traditional and familiar experiences"), the 58th percentile for conscientiousness ("You are neither organized nor disorganized"), the 9th percentile for extraversion (nailed it on that one) ("You probably enjoy spending quiet time alone"), the 32nd percentile for agreeableness ("You find it easy to express irritation with others"--ha! True.), and the 22nd percentile for neuroticism ("You are generally relaxed").


God bless.

My Favorite Band

On Tuesday, May 14th, 2013, I saw my all-time favorite band, Relient K, in concert for the second time. It was a total blast and my shameless love and devotion for them was at an all-time high. I was beyond thrilled to meet the lead singer, Matt Thiessen, and I awaited with great anticipation the release of their new album later in the summer.

When people ask me why I love Relient K so much, I have many (in my opinion) solid answers to give them:
1. They are Christian, but are not all into corny contemporary stuff. They usually keep their message subtle.
2. Brilliant/funny/clever/poetic lyrics
3. Matt Thiessen's voice is right in my range, making it easy for me to sing along to every single song.
4. Their style has grown and developed right alongside my taste in music. When I was in middle and high school and all into rock, that's what they played. When I got a bit older and got an appreciation for a more folksy, acoustic style, they started leaning that way too.
5. They have a large output of music, so it's hard to get tired of them.

Here's the kickoff

Hope you're not sick of

Relient K

Or all the songs we play

'Cause then you'll wanna throw our CD away

Then the story got grim.

The upbeat, pop-y leaning of their newest album, Collapsible Lung, was fun and well-crafted, I believed, but eventually I had to listen to the lyrics.

It has been argued, I have heard, that the foul topics they covered (such as one-night stands and controlling relationships) were actually a form of satire; that somehow they were saying something deeper. A commentary on a broken world, perhaps? I'm not so sure.

I heard a rumor (but have not looked into it) that Relient K allowed outside sources to assist with the writing for this album. Whether or not the lyrics are of the band itself, I still see no reason why this should have happened. 

What happened to their innocence (My Seventeen Magazine tells me that you're in love)? 

Their humility and heart-wrenching honesty toward God (Life could you be a little softer to me? Life could you be more gentle to me? Yeah, I know. This is a selfish plea, because Christ has sacrificed himself on the cross for me. But this world is hard, it's cruel and I wish it would be softer, softer, softer, softer to me.)? 

What happened to their humor and story-telling (The quarterback asked me if I'd like a beating. I said that's one thing I won't be needing.)? 

Their positive views of women (She's like an ancient artifact, something you're lucky to have found. She'll pinch the nerves in all the necks when she turns those heads around.)?

Now, instead, I'm seeing bad poetry that seems to say nothing of substance (at least to me) (To take a breath and then take it in, to think of places I’ll go, I haven’t been, to pour my heart into everything I've found. Time won’t slow down.)

I hear once-high moral standards being lowered (If I could take you home, I'll be all that you need.),

...less respect for women (Baby, you look so sexy, so what do I do when we get home from church and the baby is in her room sleeping? or watching a movie... you get closer to me. Oh this has disaster written all over it),

...and eight songs about bad or broken relationships. Eight. (Boomerang, Lost Boy (debatable), If I Could Take You Home, Gloria, PTL, Disaster, When You Were My Baby, and Sweeter.) This, by the way, leaves only four songs on other topics.


Well, anyway. I don't need to bash the entire album, I guess. I mean, it sounds pretty good. But I have come to an almost devastating conclusion:

Relient K may not be my favorite band anymore.

I should have seen it coming. I knew I was pulling away from the rock scene, and have been for a while. I have been growing desensitized to the wonderfulness of their music because I have listened to all of it for years. I was looking forward to the new album so very much because I was thirsty for something new from them, only to found that it fell very short of my expectations.

I understand that you are probably disappointed in me and I accept your criticism. I deserve it; I am unfaithful. But this change needs to happen.


Of course, this leaves a void in my life: who will be my new favorite music artist? (For those of you reading this who are still in shock that my undying devotion to RK is probably coming to an end, you may want to stop reading. I don't want to rub salt in any wounds.)

I have given it a lot of thought, and I tentatively want to say Josh Garrels. This is, of course, subject to change. But I find myself wanting to listen to him all the time. Although upholding a pretty folksy sound most of the time, he is clearly not afraid to experiment with other techniques. He doesn't just stick to acoustics, but ventures into electronic sounds. He doesn't just sing with that beautifully strong, raw voice he has; sometimes he raps. It's fun. He's also a Christian who lets his beliefs permeate his music, but doesn't actually let the music suffer because of it. That is to say, he doesn't write his music to fit into someone's contemporary church service singalong. I still have to listen to more of this guy's music and familiarize myself with it before I say anything definitively. After all, it's embarrassing to say someone is your favorite artist and then not know their lyrics.


Please forgive me, Relient K fans. I still love them. I will certainly still listen to their music. But I will probably wait to read the reviews before I buy their next album.


UPDATE: I got a lot of positive feedback from this post, a word of advice that I don't really need to have a favorite band, and a quote (via facebook) from my friend, Jon, of a review he read of Collapsible Lung. The quote is worth sharing: "All the other songs on the new album were actually MEANT to sound empty and shallow. They're 'the miles of open road,' when Matt Theissan's fiance left him and he 'lost sight of what might matter the most' and 'stumbled into the great unknown.' The first ten tracks display where he began to look for comfort rather than to God. The last song, Collapsible Lung, is Matt's plea to the Holy Ghost, from whom he 'hopes he hasn't heard the last words.'" My response to Jon's defense was this: "Interesting. Like I said in the [blog post], I have heard a similar argument in favor of the album. If that is indeed the case, however, I still must argue that I disagree with their manifestation of such a message because it would be/has been lost on so many people. Very few people are going to get out of it what it was meant to convey. Their message is buried too deeply, in my opinion. Subtly is great and all, but not to the point where it can't be interpreted by the average listener, or even someone like me. That's not how people get reached." Just thought that was worth sharing.

UPDATE: Finally found the blog that Jon quoted. Definitely worth the read. http://stephenshutters.com/post/54525347408/collapsiblelungreview


God bless.

Fourth Post

I would write my fourth blog post for the month (as that is generally the quota I hold myself to), but I am fresh out of ideas, so here is just a photo of me and twelve of the most amazing women I have ever met on a beach in Alaska. With knives.

Chelsea, Elizabeth, Lexi, Lauren, me, Courtney, Janae, Sara, Kelly, Kiley, Molly, Anna, Jordan. Did anyone notice that we are all wearing black pants?

[Click on the photo to enlarge]

I love and miss you all! Did this summer really happen? Did I dream that?

God bless.

Getting busy

One week into my senior year of college, and I have plenty of things to keep me busy already:
18 credit hours
looking for a job (or two)
planning my life beyond graduation
getting more involved with Cru
trying to get enough sleep
trying to have some semblance of a social life
working out regularly
having daily Jesus time
attending to my personal need for daily "introvert time" (the allotted time for vegetation on my couch with extremely limited human interaction)

But, just to drive myself a little crazy, I decided to sign up for another extracurricular activity this year. I thought it would be important to be involved with a group of people that wasn't Cru, which is comprised almost entirely of Christians. I felt that I needed to make more friends with non-Christians and be a little more ministry-focused with them, rather than just investing in my Christian friends.

[For those of you reading this who are not Christians, I am sorry if it seems like I'm putting you in a box. I really do want to get to know you for you!]

At first, I had the intention of joining the Ultimate Frisbee team at my school since I already knew several people on the team and I got to finally learn how to play this summer. But I decided that may not be the best choice for me since the team is made up almost entirely of men and I have recently been convicted to minister more (if not entirely) to women. (For more on this, please read: Femininity)

So, on Thursday my school had their organization fair. I spent most of my time at the Cru table, but walked around for a little bit picking up flyers from other tables. I felt a little late to the party, seeing as how I'm a senior and the organization fair is focused mostly on getting freshmen involved.

Although I got invited to join a few things I was not interested in, I did narrow my search down to a few things I am considering:
The Yarn Club (for knitters and crocheters-- I know the basics of knitting and would like to improve)
The Writing Club
The Ballroom Society (Also including, but not limited to, waltz, salsa, and swing dancing)
Our school's newspaper

I wish I could get involved in all these things, but for obvious reasons I cannot. I am still deciding. And that's all I have to say about that.


God bless.

Who Am I?

There is a question I have been pondering for a while, and will probably be fussing over for the rest of my life: Who am I?

Like I have a clue!
But I think I have a better idea than I did a few months ago.

I got quite upset during a conversation with Anthony one afternoon when he harassed me with this same question. I think he cared more about whether or not I had a good answer than whether or not he knew the answer for himself. I remember laughing nervously in my befuddlement, then apologizing for laughing. He must have been pretty amused by my emotional outburst spawned from such a simple question.

Finally, Anthony changed the wording enough that I managed to sputter, "I'm a woman of God." But then I got one of his classic lectures: "I would challenge you to explore this more."
 "Why? Why is it important? I spend so much time thinking about myself that I avoid knowing myself well so that I don't obsess over my own personality, which I struggle with enough as is!"
Then he proceeded to tell me that not knowing myself well would hurt my witness. He made some sort of sense when he said it. Something about evangelizing to people with compatible personalities.
"Well," I said, "how can I even know myself well? There are too many inconsistencies with me. What might be true about me sometimes will not be true all the time. How can I be even one character trait 100% of the time?"
"You can't, but you can have things that are mostly true about you."

This conversation came toward the end of a long summer when I had been undergoing a lot of personal change anyway. I was still becoming somebody. In fact, when will that ever not be true? I will never be the same person even from day to day. Literally the only thing I can think of that will remain static is my identity in Christ: I will always be his daughter. Everything else will change. Even my body will age and change. Some of the most defining characters of me have changed already; I'm not even sure I'm a total introvert anymore.

Still, I felt challenged by Anthony's demands for me to tell him who I was. In my head, I came up with the perfect opening to a follow-up conversation that never happened. "Anthony, have you ever heard the phrase, 'anyone driving slower than me is an idiot and anyone driving faster than me is a maniac'? No? Well, it's a thing. I think it really helps describe why it is so hard for me to know myself. I am my own standard of normal. I think almost everyone is like that, actually. If someone is braver than me, even a little, I think of them as being brave. Conversely, if anyone is just a little more timid than I am, I think of them as timid. Because I am my own standard of normal. I am the zero on any geometrical plane that I put other people on. Therefore I have no way of comparing myself to what is truly 'normal.'"

Despite all this, I began to legitimately consider phrases that might describe me. I quickly realized that I had to rely heavily on what other people said about me to know, which may be a good thing or may be a very, very bad thing.

I have two basic and very definitive sides: thoughtful...

and goofy...

I am not afraid to do what I want. I am confident...

I am bold, straightforward, honest, and blunt. I don't sugar-coat or water-down...

I am encouraging to others...

I am beautiful...

I am funny...

I am unique...

So okay. That's a good enough description for me. Now if some people who hate me are able to shed some light on what they think of me too, maybe I can get a more well-rounded picture instead of all the kind input my friends have. Not that I surveyed them or anything.

Now that I have put "Maryann" into words a little better, the real question becomes, How much does any of that even matter? How do I measure up to Christ? Isn't that where all comparisons should lie anyway? I don't want to make a list for that (me with Christ as the standard of normal), because I can't expose my sin and shame to the internet like that, the way I can with the good things about me...

When you put me next to Christ, I suck. Sorry to put it so foully. It's absolutely true.

But I am his daughter and he loves me.
I am a woman of God.

Isn't that a good enough answer for you, Anthony?
“How is it possible to spend all these years with myself and yet understand so little of who I am? This is just another answer that I don’t have.” -Josh Riebock

P.S. With all due respect to Anthony, he is a great, Godly, thoughtful man, and despite the difficult soul-searching he has caused me to do, I am grateful for it.


God bless.

God's Creation

I was talking to William on the phone today about his upcoming STINT project and the Summer Project I just got home from. I started telling him about how one of the many things I learned this summer was the way I can connect with God through nature in a way I never realized I could before. When he asked for some examples, I gave a few but couldn't stop thinking of more in my head. Here are a few that I want to share with you in words (rather than photos, which I lack anyway).

- Hiking to the glacier was probably my favorite day in all of project. The three or four miles out to the glacier was literally the best hike I've ever been on. We scaled some rock faces, walked through the woods, hiked on rock carved by the glacier itself long ago, saw some unbelievably fantastic views, and were physically challenged along the way. When we got there, we hiked on the flat part of the glacier for a bit. The flat part was huge, but not compared to the entire glacier, which turned from a crusty flatness into huge teal and white spikes of frozen water. We hiked down to the ice cave then, where a stream was running along the bottom of it. The cave looked dark in the brightness of the daylight, but when we went inside, a blue light illuminated the magical world around us from through the ice above us. The smooth walls of the cold glass was dripping water in certain spots. I got close to one bit of the wall and looked into the ice. It was dotted on the inside with tiny round air pockets; frozen bubbles. It looked like a lacy spiderweb. Then, just to say I did it (and to conform with all the other ladies), I licked the glacier. It tasted like nothing. It was wonderful.

- Although for most of Project, the summer night sky never got dark enough for stars to appear, toward the end, there was a clear night and it had gotten late enough in the summer that I walked outside around midnight and there they were: a skyful of stars. And there was the big dipper, bigger than I had ever seen it before. I always tell people that stars are my favorite part of nature, so when I saw them that night, and felt so close to Heaven, I just let my head back and gaped. In my delight, I also showed anyone that walked by (mainly Ben).

- The women spent a day climbing Mount Jumbo on Douglas Island. It was a very cloudy day and you couldn't see the mountain at all from the road (where normally it could be seen clearly) because of the low clouds. We climbed it anyway and it wasn't long before we were decidedly in a cloud. It was a real shame not to have a view at any point that day, but the mystery of the atmosphere was so tranquil. We saw many beautiful things on that hike. So many flowers, rocks, patches of snow, a small clear stream with beautiful rocks sitting at the bottom, and of course, countless monstrous evergreens. We made it to the very peak and took lots of photos, but they don't look like much because of the fog. But we saw the beauty and lived in the unknown. And oh, how God plans and knows what we don't!

- For the last Women's Development that involved the staff being on Project, we went to Nugget Falls. I loved it. I scrambled up the rocks next to the falls by myself and admired the majesty and power of so much water coming seemingly from nowhere other than the side of a mountain. Beyond the falls in the near distance was Mendenhall Glacier, a gorgeous backdrop. Icebergs floated around unassumingly. Mountains rose in every direction. Small, vibrant flowers grew out of the huge rocks near me, which were themselves quite lovely, almost painted-looking. So God and I had a moment. I don't remember what we said to each other; probably very little. It was like we were wordlessly holding hands, squeezing with a ferocious and passionate love.

- For the women's closing ceremony with staff (I don't know what it was technically called), as well as our last-of-all Women's Development, we sat on a shore by Mendenhall lake. On the opposite side of the lake one could see the powerful, roaring Nugget Falls. From the distance it looked quite small, smaller than my thumb at arm's length. Beside it was several mountains, towering above and diminishing the falls. Remember the realistic hugeness of the falls brought me to the realization of the actual hugeness of the mountains that surrounded it. It was breathtaking to realize (again) how big everything around me was. And not only that, but stunningly beautiful. The second time we came to this location, the sunset turned the mountains pink. Can my words even do justice the breathtaking view that God gifted the thirteen of us ladies with that night? Oh, how he allures and pursues us!

- Just kidding, there is another time I was at this location; the day seven us joined Debbie, who took us kayaking for several hours across Mendenhall lake; first to the glacier, then to Nugget falls, around several icebergs, and back again. Just a different view and perspective of the same place, and as beautiful as ever from middle of the tranquil, silty lake.

- This (fishing day): http://juneausummerproject.com/?p=624

- We went camping at a sandy place called boy scout beach one night. Oh, how the sun was setting over the ocean channel that ran alongside the path that we took on the way out! How the flowers before and the mountains behind that channel dazzled! The tide was so low when we got there that we could go quite far out on the wet beach, where gulls mingled on rotting logs. The sun set late in orange streams, leaving the sky a dim blue even at midnight. Later, a golden moon set slowly but measurably over the nearby(-ish) range of snow-capped mountains.

- I'm not even going to mentions the other sunsets I saw at Blue Mussel Cabin, the island on the night of the summer solstice, or at The Shrine.

- Speaking of the night on that island (the name of which I don't even know, but it was in Auke Bay), there was something I experienced more than saw; exploring almost the whole island on my own. I went up and over, walked along the rocky beach on the other side, then scrambled all the way up the trail-less "mountain," where I hollered a few times into the trees. Climbing down was an adventure as I may or may not have gotten stuck in a patch of devil's club, and also had to slide on the mud on my butt a few times. I loved it. Having my own private adventure was the "Chris McCandless" of the summer that I needed. Just me, God, and the trees.

- On the flight out of Seattle on the way home (technically not in Juneau but still part of my summer experience), the plane was so high up that the mountains below us looked small, and the crevices between them had clouds sitting, settled. Then we passed, very nearly at the same level, the most ginormous, rugged, powerful, majestic mountain I have ever seen. It diminished the mountains below it to nothing. The patches of snow on it must have been miles wide. Its jagged peaks boasted its grandeur. Later that day, I couldn't believe the beauty and magnitude of a particular cloud. In between our plane and the cloud, I saw two other planes fly in the opposite direction, zooming past looking smaller than a grain of rice. And how miniscule they were next to the monstrous, white, wispy cloud in the distance, which took us half an hour at least to pass!

UPDATE: The mountain I saw was, I'm pretty sure, Mount Rainier. Look it up. Please.

- Daily views are hard to mention specifically. Many times I walked out of my job at Walmart and stood on the bus stop amazed at the mountains that surrounded us. Many times on a cloudy day, I watched clouds sift and mingle amongst the towering trees on mountainsides. Many times I saw blazing patches of the appropriately-named fireweed. Many times I looked out the car window (in fact, every time I was in a car, I was looking out the window), and my jaw dropped as I tried not to press my nose against the glass, even though we drove on the same road every day. Many times I was hiking and couldn't believe the plants, the trees, the streams, waterfalls, and rocks. Simply couldn't believe it. Many times I marveled that in the heat of summer there was still snow on mountaintops.


I promise I did more in Juneau than look at pretty things, but can you blame me for letting these experiences and sights burn in my memory like a branding? Surely God has branded my mind with his beauty, yet I thirst for more.

I don't intend to make anyone jealous, and I'm sorry if that's the result of you reading this, but I plead with you to share in my joy. Frankly, I will probably keep thinking of more things I want to record (like the cross at the top of Mount Roberts), but many of them would be lame to describe, something like "I was walking to UAS rec center in my sock feet and the trees were so beautiful and I marveled at the mountains and trees and I prayed." Sounds just like many of my other experiences, but truly profound for me in the moment and another treasured piece of my summer. Please, just... go to Juneau. Or some other Cru Summer Project or mission trip. Or somewhere in the world. Please, get out of your living room and go see and experience something. Why? Because God made it for you.

See other posts for photos.


God bless.