I like eating unbaked deserts.  Cookie dough.  Cake batter.  and Frosting.

I’m a slower runner and I run barefoot.  But I run.

If dairy products aren’t AE, I’m probably not eating them.

I have strong opinions.

I think ‘The Little Prince’ is one of the most truth-filled books I’ve ever read.

Talk to me.  Vent to me.  Tell me about your life.  I will always listen.  I rarely have a good answer.  But I can listen.  I strive to be like the little girl in the Phantom Tollbooth.  I think that is the book.

I love to spoon and I love to interdigitate.  But I’m picky about who I’ll do that with.

Carpe Diem has been my goal for the past few months.  And I’ll be honest, lately its been slipping away.  And I want it back.

I love everything about large bodies of water.  Even the disgusting fish smell.

I believe our society’s biggest problem is that we’ve made it easy to remove people’s faces.  If we make a person into a faceless number in a labeled group, we’ve removed the work it takes to get to know them and the risk of pain in connecting hearts and lives.  But we’ve also lost the beauty of connection and relationship.  I believe this affects every area of life.

My family hugs.


Want authentic?

I’ve been asked a lot lately to be broken.  To let God break me.  To be vulnerable and share the ways I am broken.  Well, honestly?  I’m tired of being broken.  Is it okay for me to want to feel whole?  I understand sharing our brokeness is a part of authentic community, but I feel as if you can always find brokenness if you look for it.  Brokenness will always be there.  In our world, there will always be hurt and there will always be emptiness and brokenness.  But I don’t want to look at that.  I want to focus on the ways God is making me whole.  On the joy that can be found in life.  Not on the ways I am weak but on the ways Christ is strong.  I know that I’m weak, but the Bible says Jesus’ power is made perfect in weakness.  I don’t desire to see my weakness, I desire to see his strength.  I know I’m nothing without him.  But I’m not without him.  Thats the thing.


i desire to be in a house.  a house that reminds me of something out of an eighties photograph.  very brown toned.  not quite shag carpet, but definitely longer.  lots of orange.  probably some tacky green wallpaper in the kitchen.  a blue plaid couch.

i’d sit on the floor, with my back against the couch and my feet curled up under my skirt, sketching the cardinal sitting outside on my windowsill in the fading light.  sipping a glass of red wine, i’d listen to Simon & Garfunkel and feel peaceful.

only on kcci

I’ve been at the women’s retreat at RLBC this weekend.  It was good; more about that to follow when I am not so tired.

I encountered a raccoon last Thursday.  It was climbing in a tree behind campus around 7:00 p.m.  For some reason, the people around me felt it would be a good idea to get really close to the raccoon instead of leaving it alone.  I asked why they felt a desire to take it out of the tree where it looked perfectly happy and their reason was, “its the wrong time of day for raccoons to be out, so it’s probably rabid.”  Oh, that makes perfect sense.  Let’s get close to the raccoon because it is rabid.  Harvard of the Midwest?  But it was a really cute animal.

I’ve been realizing lately, brown is firmly my favorite color, but purple is definitely rising as my favorite color to wear.  Along with burgundy and teal.  And I really enjoy skirts and the wearing of them.  I also bought a pair of bright green heels on Friday night.  I’m excited to wear them.  However, I have no idea where I would do so.  Put that on my list of things to consider.

Sleeping sounds so good.  I think this blog is pretty meaningless and it contains a lot of random, self-centered thoughts which is probably because it is the easiest thing for me to write when I am tired.  But I genuinely desire to share some of my legitimate thoughts sometime and will do so when I am more coherent.

On my drive down to Missouri tomorrow, I plan on listening to Steve’s Bohemian ska group and the Back to Titanic soundtrack.  I know I’m excited.

I played ‘Pretty Pretty Princess’ this weekend.  Definitely more about that to come.

I’ve never liked Mad Gab trivia.

My earrings (well, two of them) match my shirt right now.  I strongly approve of that.  I can’t change these earrings yet, so maybe I should just wear this shirt everyday so I can match this well.  No.

I don’t feel like forming cohesive sentences right now.  Which makes it difficult to write my paper for my Latin America and the Great Powers class.  I sat in the sun and did Chinese homework in the sunken gardens yesterday.  When I don’t like what I dream about, I tend to sleep in longer in the hopes that something better will enter my subconcious.  Hence why I didn’t wake up this morning until 10 am.

I’m going back to Iowa this weekend for the Women’s Retreat at Riverside.  It feels like the official turning point for fall.  I’m excited about fall.

My bookshelf is stacked with books.  98% of which I have read before.  I need to change that.  I think Truman is having a book sale soon.   This might be a winning combination.

I have women’s ministry tonight and I’m excited about it.  We’re going to be talking about trampolines.  And then probably hitting up Jazzmin’s for some coffee.  Jazzmin’s is the poor man’s version of a coffee shop at Truman, but you take what you can get.  They do have a pretty varied tea selection.  I appreciate that.  I drank Good Hope Vanilla Rooibos tea yesterday.  Yum.

In the past two days, between Te Deum and CCF, I have come to realize how much I’ve missed worshipping with the people in my life.  Let’s grab a guitar, go sit under the stars, and sing to our Jesus.

dread that boy scout

i dreaded my friend mikey’s hair tonight.  this gave me a good amount of time to think.  some of the things i thought:

i don’t like to volunteer information about myself.  i don’t mind telling you about me, but i feel a lot more comfortable answering a question than making a statement.  i love when people are authentic and vulnerable with each other and i love being able to be authentic and vulnerable with others, but i rarely desire to just throw things out there.  i’d rather wait until i know it’s something you desire or need to hear.

when it comes right down to it, all we have to offer is ourselves.  in relationships, in our interactions with the world, in service, in worship, in life.  what i can give you is me.  i have nothing else.  but thats no small thing.  when we offer that, we’re offering everything.  like the widow with only two coins to offer. it’s what we’re called to do.  often offering ourselves means offering something broken and messed up.  but there is beauty in that.

humility involves a lot of confidence.

jesus jumped in puddles…or at least walked on them.

I played some killer ‘extreme spoons’ tonight.  my toe still hurts.  nate and i cheated.  that really gives you an advantage.

then we went to red barn park to play capture the flag.  because its been raining for 75% of the past three weeks, it was significantly wet.  Essentially it ended up as a playing in the mud fest.  i discovered most games (reindeer wrestling, shake the bacon, and duck duck goose, for example)  are a whole lot more fun in a giant 8 inch deep puddle.

today was absolutely gorgeous.  it was warm and yet constantly raining.  not a huge downpour or a storm, just constant rain.  i spent a significant amount of time in it.  today, i’ve been soaked and muddy.  i’ve been a mess.  and its a beautiful thing.

life can be a beautiful mess.  a lot of the time it doesn’t make sense. sometimes, i think you just have to let yourself get drenched, get muddy, be a mess.  get covered.  dive in completely.  hold nothing back.  don’t be held back.  don’t worry, don’t think.  just be.  and glory in it.

the moments will come when you get cleaned up.  when you dry off.  when you sit in front of a fire, sipping brandy in a cocktail dress, and that will be great too.  but for now, if there is a mud puddle in your path, be muddy.

i’m not into trusses.


i bought hair products yesterday.  they aren’t vegan. i also take much longer showers post dreads.
i’m not so sure how i feel about this.  but real hair is nice.

there is a fossil found in the burgess shale that was named ‘hallucigenia’.  it looks like something someone would have drawn on a drug trip.  probably the reason behind its name.  i really hope so.

i recently read donald miller’s interpretation of romeo and juliet as a metaphor for the relationship of christ and the church.  this might be the first time in five years or so that i have appreciated anything about that play.

my lost and found sunglasses were lost today.  hopefully someone will find them.  and use them.  just like i did.  the circle of life. or something.

i haven’t worn much make-up for a while now.

i’ll take my calories in juice, please.

8 hours

“We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” -Mother Teresa

Sometimes I really wonder if the little things make a difference.  I want to see big changes.  I want to see mountains tumble, rivers change course, kingdoms fall, walls break down.  In Thursday’s Bible study this summer, we talked about the Grand Canyon* and about how it was created over millions of years through the erosion caused by the Colorado River.  About how transformation doesn’t happen overnight.  About how the small things add up.  True, sometimes things like rock slides, floods, earthquakes, and the like cause big changes quickly.  You wake up one morning, something happens, and BAM suddenly your world is changed.  But usually you just have to trust that the slow, lazy river really is having an impact on the rock.

Lately, I’ve been having trouble trusting that the little things will eventually make a difference.  In a lot of different areas in my life.  Some deeper things, some more superficial.  Often (and my mom can attest to this) I get really worked up about problems I see in the world around me.  I want to charge in and I want to fix everything.  Then just as often, I get frustrated and give up because I can’t make the change I wanted.  I don’t think about doing small things with great love.  I don’t want to make ripples in a pond, I want to redirect the river.  And there is merit in thinking big, in dreaming, in believing that nothing is impossible, that we can overcome anything, that we can change anything, but when I’m not willing to let God work in His ways when they are different from what I want, it gets to be a problem.  Selfish much?

I’ve been noticing this lately in several normal areas of my stereotypical college girl life.  Its no big, but I’ve been noticing the trend to get disheartened by my inability to make big changes quickly.  Trust seems to always be the key.  And letting the little things be big enough.

*fun fact:  Every time someone mentions the Grand Canyon, I think of the line in Mystery Science Theatre 3000, “Haven’t they filled that thing in yet?”.