Friday, October 29, 2004
I love this picture. It was taken on the beach at the Mumbles this summer in Wales. Jude and I love to use the phrase, "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them." Well, here you have boys throwing rocks.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Perhaps I shouldn't go on to mention that I have plans to listen to the BBC radio drama of the Lord of the Rings on my drive to LA this weekend.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
I ran across this blog recently. And I was procrastinating there just now, avoiding queries about ISBN requests, and I found this quote from Thomas Merton’s Dialogues with Silence, which I haven't read, but am now putting on my list. In the last couple of years, God's been teaching me a lot about trusting Him with the unknown. And this prayer seemed especially appropriate today.
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does actually please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I never do anything apart from this desire. And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may not know anything about it. Therefore, I will trust you always, even though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are always with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
The past year has been full of beginnings--new people, new places, new experiences. I settled into a new job in a new place. I found a church. I made some awesome friends, both at work and at church. I even got promoted! It's been quite a year. And I appreciate it all the more now, looking back, because of the unexpected blessing it's been.
A year ago, I wasn't sitting around thinking about what the next year would hold. I had no idea what this year would hold, so I tried not to think about it. I'm not overly fond of the unknown. So many people commented how they admired me for doing this, said how brave I was, how exciting to see me stepping out in faith in such a way. And none of that made much sense to me. I honestly don't think I thought this all through before I did it. The job opportunity came, it was in the industry I wanted, it was on the West coast, so I took the job and moved. I'd always said I wanted to leave SoCal, after all.
I got here and tackled one thing at a time, like a checklist: Find an apartment. Learn the new job. Find my way around. Find a church. Meet people. Make friends. I got through each day, one at a time, and tried hard not to look back. I didn't realize before I did this how hard it would be to make a new place home, to find a community here. But here I was, so that's what I did.
And now it's been a year. Looking back, even at Saturday's party, I'm blown away by who came, and by how many really great people have become my friends. And by what this past year has held for me. It hasn't come easily. I do miss my friends and family in SoCal. And I'm still building friendships and a community here. It takes time. But as I look back, and as I look around me, I feel so thankful to be where I am.
Here's to next year.
Monday, October 25, 2004
A little story (not for the very squeamish)
I cleaned off my finger and applied a Band-Aid, then cleaned off the blow dryer and the bathroom sink. I changed my shirt, got out the stain remover, and got rid of the blood smears. After having accomplished all of the above, I looked down and discovered more blood smears all over one leg of my jeans. ARGH! I changed again, tackled more blood smears with stain remover, and headed back into the kitchen, where I found an amused and slightly grossed-out roommate who pointed out the blood that was smeared onto both kitchen towels. Sigh. At least I noticed the gaping wound before I made my vacuum cleaner cookie bars. (All of our housewarming guests are now breathing a collective sigh of relief.) I replaced the towels, cleaned a couple of blood spots off the kitchen floor and stove, and thought I was done for the day. We had a nice housewarming party in our nice clean house, and I was happy.
Then yesterday I discovered two little bloody fingerprints on the side of my soup container in the fridge. Sigh.
And you thought I was done, didn't you? Alas, no. I went to bed last night, and tossed back the top quilt to find three more little bloody fingerprints. What is my problem?!?! How can a person bleed all over the freaking house and NOT NOTICE IT?!?!
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
The rain is here!
Saturday, October 09, 2004
I remember the way I felt when I heard about the beheading of Nick Berg. Shock. Horror. Disbelief. Fear.
And the news was everywhere I turned. On the radio, the TV, all over the internet. But tonight, it was just another story. A big story, yes--but just one among others.
I know there have been other beheadings since then.
With each victim, the news becomes less shocking. Add another victim to the list, and it becomes more commonplace. Another beheading in Iraq. Presidential debate tonight.
But I also know that my reaction remains the same. I can't hear those words without the same sense of dread. It's a tight, sick feeling in my throat that doesn't diminish no matter how many times I hear: Hostage. Beheading. Iraq.
It's a feeling that's there even as I write these words.
And this isn't something I can get used to. It isn't something anyone should have to get used to.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
How not to begin your preface
A NOTE TO STUDENTS
We're sorry the book costs so much, but the
publisher can't give it away for free.
Sigh. What am I going to do with this author?