stuff is simpler now

that's all i wanted to say.

thanks for listening. :)

i feel like or as if

i got a piece of "knowing" -- the kind that is relational, involves two people, real conversation and simple knowledge. i know, i'm being a bit vague but i know what i'm talking about and it's good times :)

no list
just knowledge
and happy memories

the wedding was wonderful. the bride is a close friend, the first of a circle from high school. i felt as if "we" were getting married, and as if the circle just got a brother. and he's lovely and it's simple. just love.

woo hoo!

i danced like it was going out of style -- clean dancing -- group dancing -- increase the metabolism dancing...

before i nap

i thought it'd be more than appropriate to discuss my morning.

i got to sing. it passed so quickly. all of a sudden we were sitting in the pews.

why do good moments pass like that?

i was part of a praise and worship team at a contemporary church, you know, the kind of church many traditionals take issue with because, oh my, people are standing with their hands in the air as they sing. and, oh no, there's a drum beat.

but foowee (or however you spell it) it was a blessing and i'd do it every Sabbath if i could.

there are a few things i'll give up in order to sing. they are, in no particular order:

sleep
money
breakfast (if i reeeaaaally have to)

but only for good music and for good causes with good people with me.

yup. that's my profound thought for the day.

should we stay?

sda education has its + and its -

so we stay?

should we stay?

i'm torn when it comes to my younger siblings. their first year of university will be sda. after that...i want to encourage them to go somewhere else, somewhere non-sda. allow them to taste the outside, the place we're supposed to go but not be like, the place we're often afraid of because all we know is sda ghettos.

things left unspoken

build up

then explode

fear

ties tongues

then breaks hearts

but like some money says

in God i trust

peace comes in dying...to self, not from the task

when you know that what you say to someone will absolutely crush them, and when you know that you must say it anyway, but you don't want to because even though you hate the actions, you love the person, but you have to say it because God told you to let Him use you to ensure that person's salvation, there's just no easy way...

and it's not about you. you remember clearly when you crushed someone and it was all about you. you remember when you spoke your mind just to save yourself. but this time it's different. you're not saving (because you don't have those powers) but you're a God-vessel, you're a messenger of truth. you're drinking of the endless river you say others should try. the water's bitter. you gag at the smell. and your mum's not around to ease anything.

aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this sucks!

but you've been prepared to deal with it. you've been strengthened even though you feel weaker than you did yesterday. and tomorrow may not bring may flowers (since it's june) but time will heal if you let it because you were created to love and God is...

and love makes things alright somehow in time.

i'm reconsidering

sleep...once again.

i'd rather be tired. and yes, i've fully diagnosed my problem but i won't take the time to detail it here. i'll just say that this song i'm listening to right now helps me realize my problem even more.

a mi manera...i did it my way

doing things my way has never sounded better than when il divo sings about it. and if i could do things my way right now, i'd pack my book bag with my pencil case (which holds a couple of pens, a couple of pencils--mechanical and regular--a pencil sharpener, an eraser), 2 journals, blank sheets of paper, index cards, my tape recorder, a couple of blank cassettes, my laptop, 2 usb mass storage devices, headphones, my nikon manual camera, my point and shoot, 10 rolls of 400 iso film (a few b&w), my black slimline bible, pocket dictionary, driver's license, credit card, passport, a nice handful of cash, a few pieces of fancy paper to use as "thank you" cards...i think that might be all.

next i'd put on my uic sweatshirt, leave on my grey sweat pants, grab a fleece, put on my socks and sneakers, grab my umbrella, jump in a car, any car, and start driving. no music. the windows cracked just a little so that i stay awake. i'd drive until i see something i've never seen before. i'd stop there and take a nap or explore it through words (depending on the time of day).

i'd keep doing this until i want nothing more than a "regular" routine.

right now nothing's hazy but nothing's 100%. can you feel me on that? i'm not sinking in the fear that uncertainty brings but i sort of feel as if i'm floating. i don't mind it.

that's why i avoid sleep. but that's not the full reason. that i won't detail here.

my younger siblings just graduated from high school. i should be happy. but instead i'm just tired...

what if a break is good?

i'm in charge of a young adult ministry. nothing's happened since march-ish. i take the blame but it's not as if people are knocking down my door or tying up my phone line asking what the deal is.

i was just visited by this thought: what if nothing happens until august? what if we take a break for the summer?

hmm....i've never thought of that before. what a concept. a break...for the summer...

but since we started in january and didn't do anything until february and then march, a break seems a bit lame, you know what i mean?

but since it's a new ministry and things like this take a while to really get up and running, perhaps a break is a good thing(?)

i've been asking God for guidance and i believe He's answered. i'm simply impatient and though i'd rather be a good follower than a leader, i know this is what He wants me to do. so i'm trying.

and yes, friend, i'm waiting on Him...thanks for the reminder.

classical music

lulled us, but not to sleep.

we sat, we three black siblings, eating our tomato soup with crackers in it and biscuits on the side. we sat in silence because classical sounds have that affect on we three black siblings. it doesn't excite us to converse.

i broke the silence.

did you guys know that folks in the south eat rice with sugar?

what? really? why?

i dunno. that's what i found out from a southerner.

who eats rice with sugar? do they sprinkle it on top?

i dunno how it's done but they do it.

weird

yup

and then we talked about other things...above the classical lull...

i'm reconsidering...

the way i relate to sleep.

i've always wanted to be in the know. but i never want to have to ask. just want to be told. so when i sleep, unless there's something in particular i want to ponder ASAP, i think of sleep as an inconvenience. why must i lie there, close my eyes, drift off into la la land? why can't i stay awake and watch the world?

lately i've been getting to bed by midnight. most nights i have no good excuse. but there hasn't been anything i'm escaping from, no reality i desire nothing more than to dismiss even if for only 7 hours. everything i want to ponder, i want to write down on paper. if i could write in my sleep, i'd sleep all day!

so i need to rethink sleep. which means rethinking how i care for my body.

my health demands my sleep. do i care to be healthy? do i care to add years to my life?

my productivity demands my sleep. how much work in one day is enough work for that day?

my vertical connection demands my sleep. i'm tired of waking up, checking the clock, then running to the shower. can we get a few moments together first?

i'm reconsidering sleep
i'm reconsidering life

i'm reconsidering...

the way i relate to my hair.

yes, perhaps it's not the most profound thing in your book but in mine, it's serious stuff.

my hair is so important that i've written poems about it, devoted words and hours to explore its nature and what that means for me. i've even cried over it and prayed over it. yes, God cares about my curls, my twists, my braids, my fro, my unique combinations...

and now i want a change. nothing drastic. nothing that will possibly harm it like chemicals of one lye or another. just something different that looks good but doesn't consume my time -- i don't have time -- i don't want to make time -- not for my hair -- not anymore.

and i'd rather not devote time to brainstorming my options. i'd like to wake up tomorrow morning and know. no doubts. no potential possibilities to pick from. just one way.

and what would be really nice is if when i wake up, it's already done.

yes, i'm looking for a miracle ;)

mysterious ways

i don't know why a lot of things are the way they are. like how people are blessed by what i allow God to do through me. like how i'm blessed even though i'm clearly human.

i don't know the why...but i'm thankful for the now and for the when. i'm content in the how and in the then.

i sit here amazed and all i can say is

yipee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

time away

breeds discontent

breeds unnecessary attitude

breeds a truckload of regret

breeds this wish:

that i never had to wake up to the knowledge that i keep on messing up

time away is not time well spent

time away

encourages me to bad mouth

encourages me to spit figuratively on someone else's lawn

encourages me to hold a grudge

encourages this wish:

that i never have to wake up to the knowledge that i keep on being human

that i never use that as an excuse again

that i get back to time well spent

colour this

did i hear you correctly? did you say "coloured"? did you refer to people of my colour as "coloured"? did you really do that? are you really that ignorant? i mean, yes, there are things we all don't know. there are things some of us may never know. but come on! really? coloured?

perhaps it was her uncoloured attempt to be kind

"black" is too harsh

well you can take your kindness and place it gently into the ocean

but if that's too long a drive, write it down and burn it

please

do something

to destroy it

just don't share it

not with me

not with anyone

we've all got colour -- haven't you seen the crayola giant pack?

there's a crayon just for you!

take it

and colour this

liberia -- it's in my blood

i've been doing research on liberia for an encyclopedia entry (yeah, i'm taking this writing thing seriously -- it's almost overwhelming me).

as i read, i find out things that confirm my memories and other things that make my head spin. i lived in such corruption, under its nose. i was sheltered just enough to know that stuff was going down but i didn't get the full story. nevertheless, it's in my head, in my blood.

now i read about what we really lived under, the leadership that could have killed us, the rebellion that could have ripped apart our family like it did to others.

i write an encyclopedia entry with all the caution in the world. don't say native, say indigenous. don't say tribe, say ethnic group.

it's a load of you know what! i want to tell it like it is. i want to tell it like i'm from there. i want to talk about the people as if i can still touch the soil. they're real and yes, they call their tribe a tribe!

and then there's this whole thing about united states involvement. i wrote down that it didn't get too involved during the civil war due to the corrupt state of the liberian government. what i really wanted to say was that it didn't get involved because it's corrupt too and it couldn't afford to take on too much more corruption unless there was oil involved. all liberia had was iron ore -- not as much $$ as oil.

sorry guys. we'll aid you in 2005, now that stuff has died down. now that 200,000 (and counting) are dead, here's 5 million for ya. now get your act together. build up your country. fix those roads. get those schools in tact. remember, no child should be left behind. all those rifle carrying 8-yr-olds need to be in school. educate them so they can run the country. and in the meantime, we'll supply you with humanitarian aid, just enough to keep you alive, not enough to fix you. that's your job. you can do it. pull up those bootstraps. remember what we taught your ancestors on the plantations? where there's a will there's a way!

and there's also a bit more drama coming your way, oh most powerful country of the world. it's the end of time folks. we ain't seen nothin yet.

but those who live by the sword shall die by the sword...and the bomb, and the outbreak, and the problem we all have...stupidity...

time well spent

i've been missing my time spent with God so i hoped i'd wake early so i could talk to Him and read the bible and talk some more.

so after my crazy nightmare was documented, we spent time in Acts 27.

courage -- my pastor always asks me how my courage is.

hope -- the only way to have courage.

what's the difference between hope and optimism? after all, both could be seen as "an inclination to put the most favorable construction upon actions and events or to anticipate the best possible outcome" when in reality, that's the definition for only one.

well, for starters, optimism is a noun and hope is a verb that can also be a noun. secondly, with hope comes all sorts of biblical references and christian ideology.

i used to pride myself in my optimism. now i'm content to have hope -- one of three christian virtues that keeps me alive.

pastor, my courage is good! but my subconscious is crazy and may disagree from time to time...

i'm so hungry

i was in my 2nd year of the MA program in english literature, the one thing i'd loved since birth it seemed. i transferred back to AU b/c my first year had been so hard at the public university -- i needed something familiar.

during that first semester, i took a lit class that somehow resembled a history class with all the facts and dates. it must have been co-taught. the male teacher was a middle-aged white scholar whose laid back style i enjoyed. he made it all seem so simple. his hair line receded and he wore a lot of bland colour combos like khaki and black or a washed out navy blue. we discussed some author's politics.

at the end of the first less, i think, we had an in-class essay test. i was by no means thrilled at the thought -- i don't recall having time to study. the man proctored the test. it was then graded by a french lady whose overall look resembled celine dion.

i sat in the classroom as she graded my essay. for some reason, i was the only student who'd stayed behind to learn my fate.

i watched her face as she read my ideology. for the test, we were given key passages to read after which we were presented with a question. she looked frustrated by my answer. at one point during her grading, she got up and went into another room where the male prof was and continued grading. when she returned, she had a look of disgust on her face and her tone was nasty.

how could i have written such an awful essay, she wanted to know. i got 6.5 out of 20. "i was so annoyed i slammed your paper down, you know. what were you thinking?" she pointed out the weaknesses in my logic, her utter disgust at my argument. "you don't know how to write a paper. you must learn how to write a paper!"

she was visibly distressed by what i'd produced. "how did you draw this conclusion from this information? look at this page. where did you get that idea?"

i sat there peacefully as she squashed any confidence i had in my ability to compose complete thoughts. she didn't know that i didn't care about this author nor did i care for his politics or the opportunity to discuss them but for all i knew, I'd done my best. there must have been a change made somehow between when i wrote the essay and when she read it.

she continued to give me a look of shame as she discussed how much grading my essay affected her physically. "perhaps you would do better if we had a closer connection."

just then, c.s. lewis and his wife appeared, their bodies laying on tables that came out of their shared tomb. they were like morgue tables that slide into the wall.

c.s. opened his eyes and gave me a knowing look.

"i'm so hungry," i said.

he knew exactly what i meant.

then i woke up. the birds were chirping. it wasn't that bright outside. i knew it was early. i knew i had to write this all down.

lesson 1 for today is this: eat a good supper so that even if you go to bed 5 hours after supper, you won't wake up starved.

lesson 2 for today is this: read "a grief observed" by c.s. lewis

lesson 3 for today is this: don't let fear give you scholastic nightmares

lesson 4 for today is this: don't believe everything you read :)

oh yeah!

i've got good news and i'm so used to being formal with my speech that i can't even share it without sounding stuffed. i just deleted a sentence that i thought clearly expressed my happiness but please, who was i kidding.

what i really want to say is:

i'm getting published!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay, it's not my book yet but it's an article for the Adventist Review. it's an unsolicited piece (which in my world makes a whole lot of difference, good difference) and they're not sure when they'll publish it but they want first rights, etc. so i have to fill out an agreement form, send in a picture, etc. and they'll give me money, a byline, etc.

YES!

now when i send out my book i can say a little more in my cover letter or proposal. yes, i have other things published but not much in the current article department.

anyway, thanks for sharing my joy. thank you God for making this possible!

sweet doggy!

why

am i still working on this proposal?

because i didn't work enough in the past.

and as much as i'd like to postpone tomorrow, the day when post offices reopen, the day when i can send a fax, the day when i have to tutor, to plan song service, to write an article...

tomorrow is the one word i got wrong on a spelling test over 15 years ago. i still remember because it has such funky spelling. why two r's and only one m? i didn't feel dumb getting it wrong but i wanted 100% on my test...you know what i mean? so close but no cigar.

that's me right now. so close but no proposal yet complete.

i love words but only when i control when they come out.

use your words carefully

this record is broken
broken is this record
is this record broken?
this broken is record
record, this is broken
broken, this record is
this broken record is
is this broken record?
is broken record this?
is record this broken?

if 95% of what we say is foolish does that mean the other 5% is wise? or is the 95% simply inconsequential? and if we divided our foolish talk by our wisdom, would we find any hope?