And yes I have lied to you

Today I am missing Sallay and Satu incredibly deeply.  Time goes by so quickly in their lives and I’m missing it.  Satu has grown so tall and how tall will she be before I see her again?

Today I am overwhelmed by all the bad things that are happening to people I know and all the violence that seems to persist despite our best efforts.

Today I don’t want to hide behind a veil of positivity.  But I also don’t want to share this with someone who doesn’t understand the pain.

Today I am fine, but I am weary.

That time

It’s that time in the semester when I blog a lot because somehow writing anything but my final projects seems like a great idea.  A clue…it’s not.

I have a big decision ahead of me.  I have a lot of big decisions ahead of me but they are preceded by, begun in, and represented with one.  And I don’t know what to do.

Do I wait, do I cover my heart in patience and gentle existence?  See if living this way can make me happy.  Do I act decisively, daring and dreaming and trusting?  Do I love or do I dream?  I don’t know.

And I’ve been thinking about God.  About the refining fire, melting away impurities, creating something stronger, something truer, something brighter.  I’ve been thinking about stillness and gentle silence.  I’ve been thinking about the rush of parting waters, the roar of fevered battles, the quiet angel that stole the breath of Egyptian sons.

I’ve been wondering what it means when God has plans to give you a hope and a future and you watch your children waste away.  My youth pastor used to talk about being Christ’s hands and feet, being Jesus with skin on (I always hated that analogy).  And I wonder if he knew what those words meant.  In some ways, its a call to be Christ incarnate.  It’s a weighty glory and a heavy cross.

And I wonder what it costs to bear it.

FAK

I’m nobody’s baby.  I’m everybody’s girl.  I’m the queen of nothing.  I’m the king of the world.

 

This is what I’m listening to today.  And this is how I feel today.  I’m not your baby.  I’m not yours at all.

Second fiddle is a position I just won’t play.

I don’t have to be a queen, playing behind the throne, controlling the puppet strings.  I don’t have to give anyone else the illusion of power or sharing or cooperation.

I may choose to sometimes.

But not today.

Today I’m the king of the world.

And I reject the gendered associations of that language.

Dreams

I had a dream last night. I dreamt that I was swimmin with the stars up above, directionless and driftin’.

I had a dream last night.  Or maybe a nightmare.  I hate waking up from a night like that.  It makes me want to sleep forever in the hopes of a better subconscious experience.

I dreamt I had signed up for a trip with my high school band.  As I arrived at our trip location, it turned out to not be a clarinet workshop, but rather an experiment on the part of the United States government.  They were using us as test subjects.  We were each taken into a different holding pen and subjected to different forms of trauma and stress to see how much our bodies could handle.  Some people were given less physical space to see how they would physically and psychologically respond to claustrophobia.  Others were given less food.  I was given less heat.  They kept adjusting the temperature of my cage to see how cold  of an environment my body could handle.

I hate being cold.

Then I was finally able to escape.  I, along with a few other people, were leaving, but stopped to get some food before we started the trip home.  As we were waiting for our soup, a couple from my church growing up came and asked me to move my car because they would like my parking space.  As I moved it, I lost control.  My car was spinning out of control around and around and around.  I didn’t know what to do.  I decided to hit the nearest building (a university building) in the hope that it would be the best way to stop my car without hurting anyone.  I figured the building was the biggest thing around that would best be able to absorb the force.

Then I got in trouble with the dean and just as I was about to go explain to him why I hit his building (there was no damage…come on), I woke up.  No closure.

But holy metaphor batman…my car is spinning out of control and I’m looking for how to stop with the least amount of damage.  I’m looking for what can best absorb the pain of the mess that is life.

Aren’t we all?

That point

I’m at that point in the semester where my nails are breaking off from stress. My nails need lots of TLC and maybe fish oil to grow.  …my nails grow really fast and strong in Sierra Leone, hence the fish thoughts.

I’m not yet to that point in the semester where I am turning off my internet, but I’d better be soon.  I’ve still got a lot of online research to do.  But I’ve also got a lot of papers to write and gifs don’t really help me study.

I’ve got to write:

  • a paper about the prospects for administrative reform in Sierra Leone
  • a paper about the organizational structure and centralizing/decentralizing forces in the Peace Corps
  • two more papers about the budget of Wauwatosa, WI
  • and a paper about DDR in Sierra Leone and Participatory Development

Woof.  Here we go.

 

corpus christi

my Jesus was crucified on a tree of slut shaming and double standards

his arms were held to the beams with nails of sexual abuse and gendered oppression.

his feet were nailed with catcalls and derogatory slang

and the hammer was an untested rape kit

this androcentric tomb has kept me in my burial clothes

but i have to believe that Christ will rise

and shatter this glass ceiling

One Direction

Well…I know now what I want to do with my life.  And it’s different than what I thought and it could go in so many different directions and I’m not exactly sure how to even get to the starting point.  But I know now.

And I think that’s a start.

So now I’m on to the easier part of figuring out how to do this stuff.  And praying it all works out.

Also…can someone please find the title of this post funny?  I laughed for a good five minutes about that.
I’m being extremely clever up here and there is no one to stand around looking impressed.  What is the point of having you all?

Kingdom Come

There is so much we are waiting for.  There is so much that is so wrong.  There is so much brokeness, so many places I wonder why God turned His back.

Why do children die from hunger?  Why do children die at all?

How can I live my life so concerned with my grades, with my clothes, with my salary.  Why do I worry about these things instead of the sweet face of Yennie, a malnourished little baby who died this week?

Yennie, Bear with Love, the countless others who have been born screaming and crying into a beautiful world that has no place for them.  Those who have survived, because of love: Alice, Sallay.

How do we live a life not seeing these faces?  How many go through life invisible?

And when will I learn to open my eyes and open my life to them?

Tonight, I mourn for a little girl and for the way I know the world should be.
And I pray that my heart stays wrapped in sackcloth until your Kingdom Comes.