What this university senior needs now is her mother.
That's meant to surprise you a little bit, culturally speaking. As an above-21, apartment-dwelling, independence-attempting young woman, most of the week I don't talk to Mom. I occasionally, heinously, view it as an inconvenience to answer her texts. Forgive me, Mama.
My need for Mom is true and real, though, especially on a Sunday (like today). What I need most throughout this whole academic year are the words Mom said to my friends and I many or most Sundays throughout our childhood. The words of that children's worship curriculum she loves. Children in Worship, by Sonja Stewart and Jerome Berryman. (Fun fact: I pulled those names out of my memory just now, I've seen the book cover so many times. Only googled them to spell-check and do them justice.) I don't want to study anymore: it's miserable, it's endless (well, until May), it's not the way I want to ask these questions or write my ideas or work anymore. And I don't want to be subject to a reading schedule anymore, because reading is ruined. You see, I am in need of a metaphor to carry me through this last year of study.
Looking back at Children in Worship days, I remember the time we took to settle ourselves into the space of worship. I recall the sense of time as different in the place and time of worship. I recall the wonder that was encouraged after we had listened--the wondering questions, our turn to interact and speak with the story and its teller. I remember the quietude in which we heard the stories. I remember the creativity inspired by the story and my own wonder during response time. I remember the feast (usually, though, I found that name for it deceiving. 11 Goldfish, really? :) ). Most of all, as I look back now with my 22-year-old desire, I remember the blessing, and that it was often my mother who gave it to us, each one individually with hands held.
What if I read the books this semester with an eye already to the wondering questions I will be invited to ask at their conclusion? What if I allow for myself a response time after university, complete with my own space and natural light and art supplies and Play Doh? What if I believed again the words "we have all the time that we need" and "this is your time to talk to God and listen to God"? What if I took part in the feast again, cross-legged on the floor, with all my new friends? And what would it mean for me to hold out my hands to my professors and classmates to receive the blessing they are giving me in the end?
In remembering the Children in Worship lens today, I think I've found my metaphor.
Thanks, Mama.
xox Anna Shalom
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
mid-june
Crop share: first of the beets with greens, last of the turnips, unidentified but yummy greens, two pickling cucumbers.
Tasks: trellis beans, empty turnip beds for a new crop, weed, mow a clover carpet between blackberries, mow around raised beds, trellis more beans and the eggplants too.
Learning this week:
1. In the office, I sorted out who had paid on the evening of our recent event (Hoedown!) as opposed to registering beforehand. This involved navigating through the database, paying attention to spelling and pronouns. Along with this, I wished there were a gender neutral pronoun to address people on envelopes when their names don't indicate whether they'd prefer Ms. or Mr.
2. It seems as though time passes more quickly, urgently, on the office days than farm days. Not that the work on the farm is less important--not at all. Maybe it comes from
3. These urban farmers talk about a lot of important things. This week particularly charter schools vs. public schools in Philadelphia. What a learning zone for me! Points that surfaced: if we funnel money (private and still some state) into charter schools for some students we still don't fix the public-only kids' education--but public schools have so little room, across the board, for teachers to be innovative, isn't this a good "meantime" idea?--do charter schools allow similar opportunities for students to learn in diverse environments? not as much as public schools--if the parents are engaged in their students' educations wherever they are, why don't they stick it out in the public districts and supplement at home? Among other ideas.
4. You can trellis beans with a net and stakes and some zip ties, instead of string.
5. I don't mind eating a cold or room-temp lunch anymore. This time it was a stir fry (thank you, Aaron), before it was curry, then leftover fish and rice and salsa.
6. Sunshine comes to feel more delicious and impressive after I spend a day among the leaves that truly use it better than I ever have. They're snatching their meals out of the sunbeams and humidity. Holy poo, that's still cool. Never not going to be cool.
7. "To farm" is like the verb of food. I know cooking kind of works for this, too, but hear me out. You're germinating, planting, fertilising, bug-squashing, shading/sunning, irrigating, weeding, weeding again, still weeding, and then you're harvesting and eating. I came home with unexpected goods: broccoli and some lettuce, as well as Cole Robbie. He's my pet kohlrabi, for the time being. He had dinner with us.
Tasks: trellis beans, empty turnip beds for a new crop, weed, mow a clover carpet between blackberries, mow around raised beds, trellis more beans and the eggplants too.
Learning this week:
1. In the office, I sorted out who had paid on the evening of our recent event (Hoedown!) as opposed to registering beforehand. This involved navigating through the database, paying attention to spelling and pronouns. Along with this, I wished there were a gender neutral pronoun to address people on envelopes when their names don't indicate whether they'd prefer Ms. or Mr.
2. It seems as though time passes more quickly, urgently, on the office days than farm days. Not that the work on the farm is less important--not at all. Maybe it comes from
3. These urban farmers talk about a lot of important things. This week particularly charter schools vs. public schools in Philadelphia. What a learning zone for me! Points that surfaced: if we funnel money (private and still some state) into charter schools for some students we still don't fix the public-only kids' education--but public schools have so little room, across the board, for teachers to be innovative, isn't this a good "meantime" idea?--do charter schools allow similar opportunities for students to learn in diverse environments? not as much as public schools--if the parents are engaged in their students' educations wherever they are, why don't they stick it out in the public districts and supplement at home? Among other ideas.
4. You can trellis beans with a net and stakes and some zip ties, instead of string.
5. I don't mind eating a cold or room-temp lunch anymore. This time it was a stir fry (thank you, Aaron), before it was curry, then leftover fish and rice and salsa.
6. Sunshine comes to feel more delicious and impressive after I spend a day among the leaves that truly use it better than I ever have. They're snatching their meals out of the sunbeams and humidity. Holy poo, that's still cool. Never not going to be cool.
7. "To farm" is like the verb of food. I know cooking kind of works for this, too, but hear me out. You're germinating, planting, fertilising, bug-squashing, shading/sunning, irrigating, weeding, weeding again, still weeding, and then you're harvesting and eating. I came home with unexpected goods: broccoli and some lettuce, as well as Cole Robbie. He's my pet kohlrabi, for the time being. He had dinner with us.
- shalom -
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
work and rest aren't opposites; we are meant for both
Today marks just over two weeks that I’ve been getting to
know the needs of the Philadelphia community a bit more by learning and
teaching about farming. Not just any farming—urban farming. Learning from those
growing green things that bring fruit and vege to our tables where more
[un]naturally, rubbish and skyscrapers pile up. It is a great team to be part
of, Weavers Way Community Programs.
WWCP aims for nutritional education and urban agricultural
understanding for kids and their grown-ups in certain areas of Philly. And I
get to help in that work this summer, maybe longer. My heart is pretty full!
Some of the things I have started learning so far:
1.
how to transplant watermelon and cantaloupe
seedlings
 |
| Look! "there are seeds here and they are trying"** |
2.
how to keep a database running to keep a network
connecting people who give money to people who grow things and minds with it
3.
the importance of assessing and brainstorming
and communicating well in a nonprofit
4. how tough beets are to grow through weeds 5. how to make organic fertilizers & pesticide
(like the top half, here; the bottom I weeded)
(like the top half, here; the bottom I weeded)
 |
| One ingredient. |
6. seasonality and its beauty
7.
the colors of Swiss chard (or, as Kiwis say,
Silverbeet) as it grows
8.
the difference of Philly soil from Wheaton soil
from Kaikoura soil
9.
how social or antisocial farming can be; it just depends what you do it for
10. the
joy of receiving a share of vegetables weekly, knowing that I may have weeded
for them and watered them
11. what
good thinking and praying can happen when I garden
12. more
about the garden/farm/sower/seed/fruiting imagery in the Bible
13. how
silly it would be to call any space growing a food-bearing plant insignificant
14. how
hard it is to miss a group like my Creation Care Study Program whanau*
while I garden as we did in NZ
 |
| Joanna's work at the Old Convent - Kaikoura, NZ |
15. that
proximate justice—that is, getting things to be as wholesome and as right and
as peaceful as we are able—is not a cop
out, it might actually be God's grace to us
16. that
God was very wise, of course, to show us how we could live out his image by gardening.
Some of these lessons have photographs to accompany them,
and some just want to meet your imagination. Do you know how to sucker
tomatoes? Look it up, or ask your grandparents, or ask me the next time you see
me. I’d love to teach you. Do you know the alternatives to conventional
production-farm pesticides and genetic modifications? I know a few and I bet
I’ll learn lots more soon. Read up. Do you know where your recycling goes? I’m
trying to find out. Do you know where the nearest Community Supported
Agriculture farm is to you? or how much a share costs? or what a CSA is? That is worth googling. Seriously. Good
for the farmers, good for the food, good for the families.
My hope this summer is to retain 7 lessons from each day of
the internship and share them, along with some photos and anecdotes and other
blogs interspersed. Will you journey with me? It’s going to be dirty, clean, tasty, bitter, sweaty, refreshing, overwhelming, beautiful, stressful, relaxing, glorious, and boring all
at once.
There's room for all of us to learn and love to grow things.
There is room at the table.
There will always be room at the table when we make the room for each other.
There is room at the table.
There will always be room at the table when we make the room for each other.
shalom
* whanau: this
word [fah.noe] is te reo Maori for “family”
** quote from the children's book and then it's spring, a gift to the reading world from Julie Fogliano and Erin E. Stead.
** quote from the children's book and then it's spring, a gift to the reading world from Julie Fogliano and Erin E. Stead.
nota bene: look to this link for more
info about WWCP and what we’re up to.
Friday, April 10, 2015
We
The day was
cool now. Earlier it had been warm and sunny. Also the waves were stronger here
than in North Bay, my adrenaline registered. I made for the Dolphin Encounter
boat, knowing they had seen someone or some pod.
I cut across
South Bay, and not long after, I was among them. Their backs arced all around
me, swimming alongside me always from stern to bow, dipping under my paddles so
close that I feared skimming their backs. But they are far too clever for that.
Sometimes as they passed they’d be completely submerged, but other times
I’d see their backs and elegant, personal dorsal fins crest the surface of the
waves. Still other times, they seemed to let their wonder overtake them, and as
they swam past me their eyes peeked above the water’s surface, in our shared
air. An invitation, an example.
I think this was about the moment that I felt the urge to jump in among
them. When I saw them share their faces with me. Already hearing the sounds of
their spouts, imagining the very-live water with their bodies filling it,
knowing the desire in my outstretched hands, paddle forgotten—I wanted to join
their watery, wondering glee.
The kayaks were soon close to a pod, floating among the grey, zipping
neighbors while I tucked the paddle and untucked my legs. And then, I got wet—I
plunged. At that point our moment-sharing began. We were starting to join one
another in heart and body. It wasn’t until some seconds of human “eep” noises
and very human splashing that we began to breathe in the same place.
A spout-blow erupts behind me, and soon we are alongside one another,
both looking. Both our hearts whirring, as the feelings in the water tell us.
Here we are! Here we are in the same ocean, breathing the same air at the same
time in the same place.
As each dolphin streams by, we feel the untempered, unmediated immersion
taking place. I forget the expansive cold of ocean on my unsheltered,
unaccustomed skin, and we all seem to forget that there is anywhere else to be.
We are two kinds of persons sharing a moment of mutual wonder, peering at each
other, each exploring the sounds the other makes, attracted to one another’s movements.
One blows a spoutful alongside me, and then we begin to circle together. We
circle—one of us only spinning, the other of us encircling. We are together,
incredulously so. Inhalation is less of a focus than exhalation in noises of
exquisite bliss, human sounds incoherent to any verbal language. I cannot speak for the dolphins, but as for my
voice I express to my hosts my joy and gratitude for these moments. Their eyes
invite, my eyes watch from above the water, albeit closer.
But a jilting realization: the experience together was incomplete. I was
still trying to be other, observing the crowd around me from a head above them,
breathing and calling and seeing in my home medium. I had to breach the gap.
They had shown me to dive, to put my face in their water, just as they had dived
their face into the air for me. We had to meet on their terms in order for this
to be a moment of true mutual self-giving.
I breathed in. Tihei mauriora. And I dived down with eyes closed. With
closed eyes, it seemed that my ears were also shut. This rendered my diving
pointless, as I was closed to them. I was still thinking of “me” and “them.”
They had been showing me from the start, that it was in the eyes, faces, to
share a moment. No screens, no inorganic lenses, no filters, no plastic, no
wires. In order to become “we” with them, I had to open my eyes.
On the next dive, all eyes are open. There is someone there! Someone else
is coming, too! And so quickly, how incredible. Look, this one is showing the
bright white of smooth tummy. We both have those—those white, vulnerable
tummies with belly buttons. Expressions of beauty and gratitude journey from
heart to heart through the waves. Amazing how quickly we pass and are far from
one another. Humbling how soon one of us needs air. Astounding how deftly one
of us brings tail over face in a backflip. Grounding how slow and impotent one
of us is in this ocean. Breath. Back under again, and resurges the joy. One of
us thinks perhaps that it is selfish to keep our heart calling for more as we
encircle, as we dance. What right, what grounds, has this one to ask for this
wonder-love dance to continue? But—tihei mauriora. We share the breath of life,
and we invited each other to this moment. We each are asking for the joy our
hearts now share to keep traversing the waves. After all, our skill is not
equal here. Some of us could leave one behind as soon as we wished.
The moment is ending. Once again I was in the kayak. As one of us sent
out waves of thankfulness, and I realized it was me, my heart recognized what
emotionally capable and social creatures they are. I sensed that our sharing was
over. I then sent out love along with joy, focusing my core on expressing aroha…
From now on,
I was I and they were they again. I’ll only be adding between us more barriers:
jacket, plastic of the kayak, van, roads, house. I must be on land, they must
be in the water. But for that moment, we were we, together, on dolphins’ terms.
For that one moment, I felt their closeness and strength. And I left changed,
bettered, enriched; I left with clarity on what beauty is. I left less confused
by or strange to these creatures. And that is a gift, a good gift, given by
receivers and givers, persons with agency and sociality, imaging God in our
interactions. What a dance, what a song—together.
**nota bene: tihei mauriora - behold the breath of life**
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Kia Ora, Aotearoa!
Greetings, blessings, and sunshine to you from down under.
About a week ago, a rather bedraggled assembly of students with varying energy levels and jetlag arrived in the Land of the Long White Cloud (Aotearoa in te reo Maori). Since then we have ventured into the sea and up the mountains, into the kitchen and out onto the lawn, on bicycle and in nine-passenger vans, and generally around in each other's company. The intentional community that CCSP has taken the time to form here looks to be an environment in which I will very well thrive, process, and grow this semester.
Just having finished up lunch here, I hear the sounds of dishes and silverware pinging as one group takes on the lunch clean-up chore this week. They are also cranking music that we are all sharing throughout the house. From where I sit, I can see a species of tree fern called a Rough Tree Fern, and can nearly see the amazing Puhutakawa Tree and maybe a Cabbage Tree as well. What I can't quite see from this vista are the vegetable gardens kept here. We have eaten so many vegetables from our own excellently kept gardens on campus. Speaking of which, campus is actually an old convent--called The Old Convent, funnily enough--and I live in one of the rooms in the old schoolhouse connected by a breezeway. We have compost and recycling processes and containers, and our goal is only to produce one typical black plastic bag of rubbish as a community of 30 each week. A worthy goal.
We bike whenever we want to go somewhere on our own time. We hike lots. We learn a considerable amount from the Maori culture and language. We eat together, laugh together, make our community norms together, and strive towards shalom together. We had academic orientation together today, and start classes on Monday, I think. After, of course, a weekend trip some students have planned backpacking through Abel Tasman national park. Look for more, periodic, blog updates in the future.
Kia ora, and I send much aroha back home.
About a week ago, a rather bedraggled assembly of students with varying energy levels and jetlag arrived in the Land of the Long White Cloud (Aotearoa in te reo Maori). Since then we have ventured into the sea and up the mountains, into the kitchen and out onto the lawn, on bicycle and in nine-passenger vans, and generally around in each other's company. The intentional community that CCSP has taken the time to form here looks to be an environment in which I will very well thrive, process, and grow this semester.
Just having finished up lunch here, I hear the sounds of dishes and silverware pinging as one group takes on the lunch clean-up chore this week. They are also cranking music that we are all sharing throughout the house. From where I sit, I can see a species of tree fern called a Rough Tree Fern, and can nearly see the amazing Puhutakawa Tree and maybe a Cabbage Tree as well. What I can't quite see from this vista are the vegetable gardens kept here. We have eaten so many vegetables from our own excellently kept gardens on campus. Speaking of which, campus is actually an old convent--called The Old Convent, funnily enough--and I live in one of the rooms in the old schoolhouse connected by a breezeway. We have compost and recycling processes and containers, and our goal is only to produce one typical black plastic bag of rubbish as a community of 30 each week. A worthy goal.
We bike whenever we want to go somewhere on our own time. We hike lots. We learn a considerable amount from the Maori culture and language. We eat together, laugh together, make our community norms together, and strive towards shalom together. We had academic orientation together today, and start classes on Monday, I think. After, of course, a weekend trip some students have planned backpacking through Abel Tasman national park. Look for more, periodic, blog updates in the future.
Kia ora, and I send much aroha back home.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
"Requisite and necessary, as well for the body as the soul"
Note: Tomorrow I leave for New Zealand--incredibly, amazingly, unimaginably, but truly! I will be aiming for a blog a week, so be looking forward to that, if you think of it. :)
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
On the eve of another adventure, I am in a familiar swarm of emotions. There's the nagging feeling that I forgot to pack something pivotal, or that the checked bag will weigh two ounces over 50 pounds. There is always the joy of venturing forth into the beauty of creation, and the things it teaches me about the Creator of it all. There's also something to be said for the emotional difficulty of each and every goodbye (although I did get over fifty hugs last weekend, which was amazing).
This time, though, I sense much more longevity to the excitement with which I'm starting this trip. Feeling this way throughout the weeks leading up to the last-minute packing day, I have noticed much more hope for growth regarding this adventure. Not just hope that growth will take place, mind; I have more specific ideas in which areas I most desire strengthening and peace. That's something the pre-college Anna couldn't have said, I believe.
I had some general clues of the woman I want to be, but they were nebulous at best. Now, I am starting to tell the difference between the cumulus, the stratus, the nimbus, and the cirrus clouds of my personality, as well as the permutations of each kind with the others. I know, thanks be to God, more about the traits of patience--also of prayer, of gentleness, wisdom--I want to embody, and how they blend together.
As I enter prayerfully into this good night, the last in my own bed for a while, I aim to fall asleep praying for those on this dear continent I leave behind. I want to leave and return being a blessing here--and there. Those are my dad's words of advice: "Be a blessing." I think he's got that right.
May shalom be an ever-nearer, ever-realer truth for each of us this night. Christ is at his restoring work, even as we sleep.
Thanks be to the Triune God. xox
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
On the eve of another adventure, I am in a familiar swarm of emotions. There's the nagging feeling that I forgot to pack something pivotal, or that the checked bag will weigh two ounces over 50 pounds. There is always the joy of venturing forth into the beauty of creation, and the things it teaches me about the Creator of it all. There's also something to be said for the emotional difficulty of each and every goodbye (although I did get over fifty hugs last weekend, which was amazing).
This time, though, I sense much more longevity to the excitement with which I'm starting this trip. Feeling this way throughout the weeks leading up to the last-minute packing day, I have noticed much more hope for growth regarding this adventure. Not just hope that growth will take place, mind; I have more specific ideas in which areas I most desire strengthening and peace. That's something the pre-college Anna couldn't have said, I believe.
I had some general clues of the woman I want to be, but they were nebulous at best. Now, I am starting to tell the difference between the cumulus, the stratus, the nimbus, and the cirrus clouds of my personality, as well as the permutations of each kind with the others. I know, thanks be to God, more about the traits of patience--also of prayer, of gentleness, wisdom--I want to embody, and how they blend together.
As I enter prayerfully into this good night, the last in my own bed for a while, I aim to fall asleep praying for those on this dear continent I leave behind. I want to leave and return being a blessing here--and there. Those are my dad's words of advice: "Be a blessing." I think he's got that right.
May shalom be an ever-nearer, ever-realer truth for each of us this night. Christ is at his restoring work, even as we sleep.
Thanks be to the Triune God. xox
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
De vuelta en la tierra que tiene mi corazón
As I have been so thoroughly enjoying this summertime lack of writing, I have been absent from the blog a while. But I do want to resume the habit for this fall at school, so I thought I'd better summarize the end of the school year and my summer adventures up to this point.
Due to a tough bout of homesickness in March and April, the year's end in May was quite welcome. Finals not so much, nor all the goodbyes, but both of those things are only temporary and I survived. I am very content at Templeton/Eastern, and already look forward to the coming school year. Not so much that I'd be willing to shorten my summer. No, not at all!
Speaking of summer, it's not been going as I had planned it would all last semester. That is only because God saw right through my plans and decided to give me something much better, as he is wont to do. I had originally arranged for an internship in Argentina, shipping out from Chicago on 30 May, to return in August. This sounded wonderful and exciting, being back in what I presume to be my field of study, with my boyfriend and good friends, and eating and drinking wonderful Argentine delicacies, for several months. But God, of course more familiar than I with my horrible homesickness, decided to grant me more time at home to tare my emotional scales back to balance. So my internship was cancelled and I just went home for the summer.
The Lord still, in his infinite grace, arranged some wonderful things for me. He found me, after some broad searching, a position in an assisted living center for people with Alzheimer's/dementia. And he let me love it. I love the personal interaction, the tenderness of their vulnerable trust, the stories I get to hear, and how many hugs and "You're so cute. Isn't she adorable?" comments I get a day. I also work on loving the opportunity to wash and dress residents, tidy their rooms, do their laundry, and smile at everyone--coworker and resident alike.
So that was settled--a constructive, money-making, time-occupying activity. Next, God helped me settle the matter of an intense desire for international travel and Gabi's kisses. I can't guarantee that the desire was evenly distributed between those two... :)
When I asked for a Buenos Aires visit, God provided not only that but also a trip to Guatemala. How, you may ask? Well, because of another previously received blessing: Central Presbyterian Church in Norristown. In other words, my friend P (the pastor's daughter) and her family invited me to tag along on their family vacation. They'd invited some of the youth group along, and were happy to add to the party. I have added another country to my list of travels! And I've fallen in love with Latin America all over again.
My goodness, there aren't really words to describe the joy of being back here. (I am writing from Buenos Aires, and remembering back to Guatemala. Either way, it's the Latin world I'm talking about.) When we were descending in the plane from the clouds to a closer proximity to the Guatemalan landscape, my grin started. It hasn't stopped since.
I got a tour of the town the pastor and his family are from, met some extended family, took a road trip with everyone to see Mayan temples (increíble!), spent an afternoon in Antigua, and drove around the capital. Also, as per usual, I ate and slept well. Most of all, I made new friends. My friend's uncle is the mayor of their town, and so we got an insider's glance of Guatemalan municipal politics. His family (wife, daughter, and son) all welcomed us gringos wonderfully. His son I quickly wooed, and he remains a bit smitten with me regardless of the distance, I hear. His skin is of a darker tint, and so when we got to the stage of holding hands, I told him, "Look, together we make an Oreo with our fingers intertwined!" He's the cookie, I'm the creme. I miss him already!
Since leaving Guatemala (SADLY), I have been in Buenos Aires (HAPPILY). I am living with my good, best, loveliest Argentine friend V and her fantastic boys. I love daily life with them and treasure the chance I have had to re-immerse in this friendship. She is such a solid, hopeful, strong, perseverant, caring, crazy, hilarious, beautiful woman and I cannot imagine how sad I would be if she were not my friend. We barely sleep for talking. Also we run around, play, and wrestle with the boys. We cook and eat well, watch movies, organize the apartment, go on walks, visit other friends, and celebrate birthdays. It's been a wonderful time this past week. I lament only having one more...
Also, I've been with Gabi, my colombianovio. What a blissful time. In the first few days, the exhaustion of the overnight flight and switch to new food and water and cultural body clock prevented me from fully enjoying being back together. But, as God knew, being here with Vero makes everything easier. For one thing, it was easy and speedy to get here from the airport and get settled. And the two of them are good friends, so conversation was easy and plentiful. We've been cooking, playing with the boys, walking to the park, and planning. I feel fully treasured and blessed to have him as my boyfriend, and he's done a jolly good job of spoiling me. We went to a fair on Sunday, Feria de Mataderos, and spent a lovely afternoon looking at all the artisan crafts and jewelry and food, listening to the typical music and dance of one town, Catamarca, featured that week. And we ate. Thank heavens I found someone who enjoys eating as much as I do, and enjoys that I enjoy good food. :)
Anywho, that's the gist of it. In short, I'm completely content. Let's wait and see, maybe God has other marvels prepared for me even today.
I don't doubt it in the least. xox
Due to a tough bout of homesickness in March and April, the year's end in May was quite welcome. Finals not so much, nor all the goodbyes, but both of those things are only temporary and I survived. I am very content at Templeton/Eastern, and already look forward to the coming school year. Not so much that I'd be willing to shorten my summer. No, not at all!
Speaking of summer, it's not been going as I had planned it would all last semester. That is only because God saw right through my plans and decided to give me something much better, as he is wont to do. I had originally arranged for an internship in Argentina, shipping out from Chicago on 30 May, to return in August. This sounded wonderful and exciting, being back in what I presume to be my field of study, with my boyfriend and good friends, and eating and drinking wonderful Argentine delicacies, for several months. But God, of course more familiar than I with my horrible homesickness, decided to grant me more time at home to tare my emotional scales back to balance. So my internship was cancelled and I just went home for the summer.
The Lord still, in his infinite grace, arranged some wonderful things for me. He found me, after some broad searching, a position in an assisted living center for people with Alzheimer's/dementia. And he let me love it. I love the personal interaction, the tenderness of their vulnerable trust, the stories I get to hear, and how many hugs and "You're so cute. Isn't she adorable?" comments I get a day. I also work on loving the opportunity to wash and dress residents, tidy their rooms, do their laundry, and smile at everyone--coworker and resident alike.
So that was settled--a constructive, money-making, time-occupying activity. Next, God helped me settle the matter of an intense desire for international travel and Gabi's kisses. I can't guarantee that the desire was evenly distributed between those two... :)
When I asked for a Buenos Aires visit, God provided not only that but also a trip to Guatemala. How, you may ask? Well, because of another previously received blessing: Central Presbyterian Church in Norristown. In other words, my friend P (the pastor's daughter) and her family invited me to tag along on their family vacation. They'd invited some of the youth group along, and were happy to add to the party. I have added another country to my list of travels! And I've fallen in love with Latin America all over again.
My goodness, there aren't really words to describe the joy of being back here. (I am writing from Buenos Aires, and remembering back to Guatemala. Either way, it's the Latin world I'm talking about.) When we were descending in the plane from the clouds to a closer proximity to the Guatemalan landscape, my grin started. It hasn't stopped since.
I got a tour of the town the pastor and his family are from, met some extended family, took a road trip with everyone to see Mayan temples (increíble!), spent an afternoon in Antigua, and drove around the capital. Also, as per usual, I ate and slept well. Most of all, I made new friends. My friend's uncle is the mayor of their town, and so we got an insider's glance of Guatemalan municipal politics. His family (wife, daughter, and son) all welcomed us gringos wonderfully. His son I quickly wooed, and he remains a bit smitten with me regardless of the distance, I hear. His skin is of a darker tint, and so when we got to the stage of holding hands, I told him, "Look, together we make an Oreo with our fingers intertwined!" He's the cookie, I'm the creme. I miss him already!
Since leaving Guatemala (SADLY), I have been in Buenos Aires (HAPPILY). I am living with my good, best, loveliest Argentine friend V and her fantastic boys. I love daily life with them and treasure the chance I have had to re-immerse in this friendship. She is such a solid, hopeful, strong, perseverant, caring, crazy, hilarious, beautiful woman and I cannot imagine how sad I would be if she were not my friend. We barely sleep for talking. Also we run around, play, and wrestle with the boys. We cook and eat well, watch movies, organize the apartment, go on walks, visit other friends, and celebrate birthdays. It's been a wonderful time this past week. I lament only having one more...
Also, I've been with Gabi, my colombianovio. What a blissful time. In the first few days, the exhaustion of the overnight flight and switch to new food and water and cultural body clock prevented me from fully enjoying being back together. But, as God knew, being here with Vero makes everything easier. For one thing, it was easy and speedy to get here from the airport and get settled. And the two of them are good friends, so conversation was easy and plentiful. We've been cooking, playing with the boys, walking to the park, and planning. I feel fully treasured and blessed to have him as my boyfriend, and he's done a jolly good job of spoiling me. We went to a fair on Sunday, Feria de Mataderos, and spent a lovely afternoon looking at all the artisan crafts and jewelry and food, listening to the typical music and dance of one town, Catamarca, featured that week. And we ate. Thank heavens I found someone who enjoys eating as much as I do, and enjoys that I enjoy good food. :)
Anywho, that's the gist of it. In short, I'm completely content. Let's wait and see, maybe God has other marvels prepared for me even today.
I don't doubt it in the least. xox
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Pyjamas and pearls
Pyjamas and pearls at the end of the night means it has been a good night. Perhaps even a good day. Depends.
Today I went to a wedding. To be exact, I attended a double wedding. The brother and his bride were as beautiful together as the sister and her husband. All were surrounded by their closest friends, who witnessed and joined in the celebration.
And it was all done in Spanish.
Their modest and beautiful home was carefully decorated with flowers on the banister, flowers on the coffee table, and flowers on the cake. There was a bounty of food in the kitchen. A few families from the church were there, along with several of the couples' North American coworkers. I went with my friend and her parents. Her dad is the pastor.
Over the past couple of weeks, I have been attending their church. My friend, whom I met in Spanish class this semester, invited me about three weeks ago. I figured I'd give it a try, because, really, the "church search" isn't ever finished. Boy, am I glad I kept looking a little bit longer.
What a wonderful place to be, amidst this congregation. From the toddler girl near to whom I sit each week (love at first sight) to the first grader I got to know better tonight (we're fast and best friends); the Hondurans to the Guatemalans; the Colombians to the Mexicans; the birthday parties to the worship times; the foosball to the after-service meal; I feel right at home.
I often marvel at how open-hearted and welcoming Latinos are. And how well they know how to celebrate. There are things in life that are so very worth celebrating--and they go all out. What better way to do so than with the church, which in many of their cases is the thing most resembling family that they have nearby. By going all out, I do not mean that they overspend on the cake, the decorations, or the venue. I mean they make elegance and beauty and joy burst from every tortilla, piñata, and cake there is. They share. They share in every joyful moment: eighth birthday, first birthday, wedding. Within my two weeks in the congregation I have already been invited to join in those three celebrations.
Each night I come back to the dorm from an evening spent with the church--as my ever-patient roommate can attest--I'm positively glowing. It's thrilling to be invited so whole-heartedly into a community that loves me and loves each other and, most importantly, loves God so fully and visibly. To be this inclusive really is not a very common North American trait, in the context of church or bigger group settings. I have tried out many, many churches this school year, and none have opened their arms so fully or so unabashedly or so personally as this one. It's the gente that make the difference: the people. I found my gente, my latinoamericanos, last year on gap year, and I have graciously been given a chance to keep loving them by this new church community.
That is why I can revel tonight in my pyjamas and pearls, savoring the delicious memories and wonderful food and beautiful new friends. God is good, and he doesn't lose track of us. He meets us where we are with blessings unforeseen and, often, unimaginable. They're just too good for us to have fabricated ourselves.
I am so glad the Lord has guided me from spotlight to spotlight over the years; illuminating just enough of a path to help me make decisions that drew me closer to where I am now. I am loving the chance to watch my life be unfolded and tethered together so very neatly by the hands of a God who loves me so obviously cariñosamente--caringly, delicately, lovingly. God is good all the time. All the time, God is good.
shalom xox
Today I went to a wedding. To be exact, I attended a double wedding. The brother and his bride were as beautiful together as the sister and her husband. All were surrounded by their closest friends, who witnessed and joined in the celebration.
And it was all done in Spanish.
Their modest and beautiful home was carefully decorated with flowers on the banister, flowers on the coffee table, and flowers on the cake. There was a bounty of food in the kitchen. A few families from the church were there, along with several of the couples' North American coworkers. I went with my friend and her parents. Her dad is the pastor.
Over the past couple of weeks, I have been attending their church. My friend, whom I met in Spanish class this semester, invited me about three weeks ago. I figured I'd give it a try, because, really, the "church search" isn't ever finished. Boy, am I glad I kept looking a little bit longer.
What a wonderful place to be, amidst this congregation. From the toddler girl near to whom I sit each week (love at first sight) to the first grader I got to know better tonight (we're fast and best friends); the Hondurans to the Guatemalans; the Colombians to the Mexicans; the birthday parties to the worship times; the foosball to the after-service meal; I feel right at home.
I often marvel at how open-hearted and welcoming Latinos are. And how well they know how to celebrate. There are things in life that are so very worth celebrating--and they go all out. What better way to do so than with the church, which in many of their cases is the thing most resembling family that they have nearby. By going all out, I do not mean that they overspend on the cake, the decorations, or the venue. I mean they make elegance and beauty and joy burst from every tortilla, piñata, and cake there is. They share. They share in every joyful moment: eighth birthday, first birthday, wedding. Within my two weeks in the congregation I have already been invited to join in those three celebrations.
Each night I come back to the dorm from an evening spent with the church--as my ever-patient roommate can attest--I'm positively glowing. It's thrilling to be invited so whole-heartedly into a community that loves me and loves each other and, most importantly, loves God so fully and visibly. To be this inclusive really is not a very common North American trait, in the context of church or bigger group settings. I have tried out many, many churches this school year, and none have opened their arms so fully or so unabashedly or so personally as this one. It's the gente that make the difference: the people. I found my gente, my latinoamericanos, last year on gap year, and I have graciously been given a chance to keep loving them by this new church community.
That is why I can revel tonight in my pyjamas and pearls, savoring the delicious memories and wonderful food and beautiful new friends. God is good, and he doesn't lose track of us. He meets us where we are with blessings unforeseen and, often, unimaginable. They're just too good for us to have fabricated ourselves.
I am so glad the Lord has guided me from spotlight to spotlight over the years; illuminating just enough of a path to help me make decisions that drew me closer to where I am now. I am loving the chance to watch my life be unfolded and tethered together so very neatly by the hands of a God who loves me so obviously cariñosamente--caringly, delicately, lovingly. God is good all the time. All the time, God is good.
shalom xox
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Two weeks
Roommate: Emily
Favorite shared moment with her: quiet moments on study nights, after the pyjamas are on and the tea's in hand. We take turns picking the music, we share things that make us giggle or think. It's so peaceful and so conducive to good studying.
Busiest day of the week so far: looks to be Mondays from here on out, but so far it's been Tuesdays. I have classes back-to-back from 8:30 till 1, then from 2:30 to 4. Luckily part of that time's yoga and part is choir. :)
Favorite meal served: tonight's wasn't bad. Black bean quesadilla and lentils and rice.
Least favorite meal served: last night's stringy meat and worse-than-Velveeta mac n cheese. I went for the sandwich option!
Favorite non-honors class: Spanish! It's a conversation and composition course, heavy on the composition. I will be writing a research paper in Spanish this semester. Which sounds awesome to me. In addition, it's fabulous because it is basically like any English lit class in high school (that I loved so much) but with Spanish texts and discussed in Spanish. Ecstasy. :)
Best reading for any class: the Gospel of Matthew.
Hardest reading for any class: St. Anselm's Proslogium--rhetorical, dense and logic-speech. But interesting discussion ensued, so that's a plus.
Best advice so far: have and take care of young kids before you have to take care of your parents. Keep a sabbath. Go to sleep. ;)
Favorite day of weather: well, night, actually; Friday night when the snow came, fast and fluffy. Beautiful!
Newest pop culture thing experienced: Pitch Perfect. What a blend of hilarity and despair at humanity. Aca-awkward.
Number of coincidental connections between classes: we're up to like four or five. Reading the New Testament makes that easy, but it's wonderful to trace threads.
Last thing I lost: a glove.
Last thing I found: two completely different gloves.
Dregs of the tea most recently in my mug: Jasmine dragon loose leaf. A gift from a friend whose roommate worked at Teavana.
Best music for study/reading/writing yet this semester: Sense and Sensibility soundtrack. Hands down.
Laundry loads: just one, actually.
Latest I have stayed awake any night so far: up until 2:30ish on Friday, just for the halibut.
Best laptop sticker I've seen: "mischief managed"
My most recent laptop sticker: it's one I took from a bulletin board at a local coffeeshop: "life is good <3 especially when we are good to others"
Best sound I've heard: the worship team at the center city site of the church I go to, Liberti. They were fantastic! Very Mumford-esque, with a sax, trumpet, oboe, violin, acoustic guitar, and piano. And great harmonies.
Best choir song so far: Water Night by Eric Whitacre. Some stunning chords in that, and the lyrics were originally a Spanish poem!
Best hymn sung in church: Be Thou My Vision. Always gets me.
Best package received: a care package from Hannah! It included a teddy bear. 'Nuff said.
Best thing I'm learning, allbeit painfully: to trust in God in all things, and actually accept his peace as he offers it to me.
Favorite shared moment with her: quiet moments on study nights, after the pyjamas are on and the tea's in hand. We take turns picking the music, we share things that make us giggle or think. It's so peaceful and so conducive to good studying.
Busiest day of the week so far: looks to be Mondays from here on out, but so far it's been Tuesdays. I have classes back-to-back from 8:30 till 1, then from 2:30 to 4. Luckily part of that time's yoga and part is choir. :)
Favorite meal served: tonight's wasn't bad. Black bean quesadilla and lentils and rice.
Least favorite meal served: last night's stringy meat and worse-than-Velveeta mac n cheese. I went for the sandwich option!
Favorite non-honors class: Spanish! It's a conversation and composition course, heavy on the composition. I will be writing a research paper in Spanish this semester. Which sounds awesome to me. In addition, it's fabulous because it is basically like any English lit class in high school (that I loved so much) but with Spanish texts and discussed in Spanish. Ecstasy. :)
Best reading for any class: the Gospel of Matthew.
Hardest reading for any class: St. Anselm's Proslogium--rhetorical, dense and logic-speech. But interesting discussion ensued, so that's a plus.
Best advice so far: have and take care of young kids before you have to take care of your parents. Keep a sabbath. Go to sleep. ;)
Favorite day of weather: well, night, actually; Friday night when the snow came, fast and fluffy. Beautiful!
Newest pop culture thing experienced: Pitch Perfect. What a blend of hilarity and despair at humanity. Aca-awkward.
Number of coincidental connections between classes: we're up to like four or five. Reading the New Testament makes that easy, but it's wonderful to trace threads.
Last thing I lost: a glove.
Last thing I found: two completely different gloves.
Dregs of the tea most recently in my mug: Jasmine dragon loose leaf. A gift from a friend whose roommate worked at Teavana.
Best music for study/reading/writing yet this semester: Sense and Sensibility soundtrack. Hands down.
Laundry loads: just one, actually.
Latest I have stayed awake any night so far: up until 2:30ish on Friday, just for the halibut.
Best laptop sticker I've seen: "mischief managed"
My most recent laptop sticker: it's one I took from a bulletin board at a local coffeeshop: "life is good <3 especially when we are good to others"
Best sound I've heard: the worship team at the center city site of the church I go to, Liberti. They were fantastic! Very Mumford-esque, with a sax, trumpet, oboe, violin, acoustic guitar, and piano. And great harmonies.
Best choir song so far: Water Night by Eric Whitacre. Some stunning chords in that, and the lyrics were originally a Spanish poem!
Best hymn sung in church: Be Thou My Vision. Always gets me.
Best package received: a care package from Hannah! It included a teddy bear. 'Nuff said.
Best thing I'm learning, allbeit painfully: to trust in God in all things, and actually accept his peace as he offers it to me.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Advent ponderings
I am beginning to truly understand what Advent is. It's marvelous how God is showing me.
It is lovely to be home. I am content to be a full-time sister and daughter again, living at home and taking full advantage of a well-stocked and fully-equipped kitchen to make delicious meals and baked goods. My dog I had unexpectedly missed very much, and I have loved the opportunities to walk him every day for some quality time thinking, exercising, and sometimes talking with an accompanying family member in the frigid fresh air. And of course, in this season, it is a pleasure simply to be where it looks like home and smells like Christmas.
Of course, I didn't feel all these joyful, cozy, comfy, warm, Christmas-y feelings a week and a half ago; I was finishing up final exams, and laboring under the expectations I had for myself. I dreamt of the ability to sleep in my own bed, pined for the sight of my backyard and all its winter-bared trees, and yearned for the hot cocoa by the fire sort of moments with my little sisters. A countdown to the day I flew home conveyed so much hope, so many happy and energizing thoughts, that I was propelled through finals with a diligence and effort that carried me to the degree of success I needed. It made me thankful that I have such a home to which I am able to return. It made me praise God for his faithfulness in providing the means for my education, and my flying and driving halfway across the country to get to it. It made me reflect on all that I had learned in those quick four months that compose a semester.
All that, to me, sounds a little bit like the Advent season, albeit on a less universally important level. What I felt in the present, and then how it would be, and how the switch would be made by one day, one change (in my example, the day of my flight; in the best Example, Christmas Day). Then, I felt anticipation of rest, now, in rest, I remember how God pulled me through a tough transitional semester. Then I felt a seeming hopelessness brought on by finals, where now I have renewed hope. Along with this change or renewal has come a greater desire to reflect in my work the glorious God I am coming to know better through my studies. I appreciate Advent, His coming, much better this year than I ever have, I think due to the double amount of waiting, and looking-forward-to, I experienced between Advent itself and my homecoming.
The most beautiful reentry to life at home was being at church with my family for Lessons & Carols Sunday. On this day every year, there is no sermon; instead the choir and scripture readers lead us through the story of Christ's birth in song and reading. It was beautiful(--shout out to the church choir and its director!). I felt like I had arrived, after making a long spiritual journey mirroring the journey of the magi, one full of anticipation and hope. A journey to realize that I wasn't the one who made the journey at all, but that I was the one Christ passionately journeyed to--here, to where I am, to the fallen, broken, hurting world full of starvation, grief, loneliness, grudges, hatred, and final exams. Suffering immense humility and humiliation (two words that I have now learned originally meant the same thing), God through his Son has shown me in a new way his great love all over again. I don't know if any of this is sensible or comprehensible to anyone else, or if the connection only works for the one who's lived it herself, as sometimes is true. But I believe God continues his loving, caring, fond, affectionate manner of guiding me, just as he always has. Praise God for his faithfulness to his loved ones, his little ones, his sheep.
O come, O come, Emmanuel.
It is lovely to be home. I am content to be a full-time sister and daughter again, living at home and taking full advantage of a well-stocked and fully-equipped kitchen to make delicious meals and baked goods. My dog I had unexpectedly missed very much, and I have loved the opportunities to walk him every day for some quality time thinking, exercising, and sometimes talking with an accompanying family member in the frigid fresh air. And of course, in this season, it is a pleasure simply to be where it looks like home and smells like Christmas.
Of course, I didn't feel all these joyful, cozy, comfy, warm, Christmas-y feelings a week and a half ago; I was finishing up final exams, and laboring under the expectations I had for myself. I dreamt of the ability to sleep in my own bed, pined for the sight of my backyard and all its winter-bared trees, and yearned for the hot cocoa by the fire sort of moments with my little sisters. A countdown to the day I flew home conveyed so much hope, so many happy and energizing thoughts, that I was propelled through finals with a diligence and effort that carried me to the degree of success I needed. It made me thankful that I have such a home to which I am able to return. It made me praise God for his faithfulness in providing the means for my education, and my flying and driving halfway across the country to get to it. It made me reflect on all that I had learned in those quick four months that compose a semester.
All that, to me, sounds a little bit like the Advent season, albeit on a less universally important level. What I felt in the present, and then how it would be, and how the switch would be made by one day, one change (in my example, the day of my flight; in the best Example, Christmas Day). Then, I felt anticipation of rest, now, in rest, I remember how God pulled me through a tough transitional semester. Then I felt a seeming hopelessness brought on by finals, where now I have renewed hope. Along with this change or renewal has come a greater desire to reflect in my work the glorious God I am coming to know better through my studies. I appreciate Advent, His coming, much better this year than I ever have, I think due to the double amount of waiting, and looking-forward-to, I experienced between Advent itself and my homecoming.
The most beautiful reentry to life at home was being at church with my family for Lessons & Carols Sunday. On this day every year, there is no sermon; instead the choir and scripture readers lead us through the story of Christ's birth in song and reading. It was beautiful(--shout out to the church choir and its director!). I felt like I had arrived, after making a long spiritual journey mirroring the journey of the magi, one full of anticipation and hope. A journey to realize that I wasn't the one who made the journey at all, but that I was the one Christ passionately journeyed to--here, to where I am, to the fallen, broken, hurting world full of starvation, grief, loneliness, grudges, hatred, and final exams. Suffering immense humility and humiliation (two words that I have now learned originally meant the same thing), God through his Son has shown me in a new way his great love all over again. I don't know if any of this is sensible or comprehensible to anyone else, or if the connection only works for the one who's lived it herself, as sometimes is true. But I believe God continues his loving, caring, fond, affectionate manner of guiding me, just as he always has. Praise God for his faithfulness to his loved ones, his little ones, his sheep.
O come, O come, Emmanuel.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A dog, some pearls, and a scarf
Never should one underestimate the encouraging power of a scarf or a dog. The presence of either on a particularly cold and sleepy day is as comforting as knowing one is almost done with one's first freshman semester.
This past week was a busy one, full of choir rehearsals and skipping some classes and going to others. Besides the inevitable beloved reading and homework. I am enjoying the winding down that is taking place in my classes, except in the ones where I have a final paper instead of exam. I am hopeful that I'll get the ideas that need to come so I can write the papers well, and finish the classes as I've started them.
The choir rehearsals are for a concert today, where the University choir will blend with several other choirs (church and otherwise) to perform a Christmas concert in the Kimmel Center in downtown Philly. I am so excited--it has been such an unanticipated blessing having choir in my schedule this year. The director is wonderful, and really talented at leading our 60-something choir. We will sing some breathtakingly beautiful melodies this afternoon, and a number of my best friends on campus are either singing with me or have bought tickets to see it. That's because they're lovely.
Any choir performance is my favorite chance to wear pearls. Really, I think everyday is a great day to wear pearls. My dad gave them to me, from Japan. Some of the ladies in the other choirs were making sure we college student girls had pearls, and I could say that, yes, I do have some. I love how they hang heavily around my neck, how they warm up after fifteen minutes, how they always remind me of Dad, family, and home.
Speaking of home, I should tell you about the scarf. I was sitting in my seat at rehearsal and greeting the people who walked past in my section, and one lady had the same scarf on as I've seen my sister wear a thousand times. A beautiful, sky blue and cream, cashmere scarf. I commented on it and told her my sister had the same one, and it was lovely to think of her when I saw this lady's scarf. Then during our break an hour later, she plopped herself down next to me and asked me about family, home, and my sister. When break was over, she took off her scarf and wrapped it about my neck unquestioningly and said, "Well, I'd like you to have this, so you can be reminded of her for right now, and so you two can be samesies when you get home." It made my heart and I quite warm.
The dog in the intro is named Maggie. She and I took a marvelous nap yesterday on my roommate Emily's couch. It was so nice to spend a night at Em's house, seeing her world and enjoying her neighbors and parents and home-cooked food. I was very content.
So I've written of the possibility of getting any real work done today, what with the concert and rehearsals taking up all day. And that is fine, because I'm set for Monday. But I must get to the bus now, making sure I have everything. There's a great fog out there today, so I will enjoy the cross-campus walk very much.
I wish you all a happy December, and I'm glad I finally sat down and wrote an entry. It's nice to spill thoughts and goodness into the blogosphere. Peace in this busy time of year, and God bless.
xox
This past week was a busy one, full of choir rehearsals and skipping some classes and going to others. Besides the inevitable beloved reading and homework. I am enjoying the winding down that is taking place in my classes, except in the ones where I have a final paper instead of exam. I am hopeful that I'll get the ideas that need to come so I can write the papers well, and finish the classes as I've started them.
The choir rehearsals are for a concert today, where the University choir will blend with several other choirs (church and otherwise) to perform a Christmas concert in the Kimmel Center in downtown Philly. I am so excited--it has been such an unanticipated blessing having choir in my schedule this year. The director is wonderful, and really talented at leading our 60-something choir. We will sing some breathtakingly beautiful melodies this afternoon, and a number of my best friends on campus are either singing with me or have bought tickets to see it. That's because they're lovely.
Any choir performance is my favorite chance to wear pearls. Really, I think everyday is a great day to wear pearls. My dad gave them to me, from Japan. Some of the ladies in the other choirs were making sure we college student girls had pearls, and I could say that, yes, I do have some. I love how they hang heavily around my neck, how they warm up after fifteen minutes, how they always remind me of Dad, family, and home.
Speaking of home, I should tell you about the scarf. I was sitting in my seat at rehearsal and greeting the people who walked past in my section, and one lady had the same scarf on as I've seen my sister wear a thousand times. A beautiful, sky blue and cream, cashmere scarf. I commented on it and told her my sister had the same one, and it was lovely to think of her when I saw this lady's scarf. Then during our break an hour later, she plopped herself down next to me and asked me about family, home, and my sister. When break was over, she took off her scarf and wrapped it about my neck unquestioningly and said, "Well, I'd like you to have this, so you can be reminded of her for right now, and so you two can be samesies when you get home." It made my heart and I quite warm.
The dog in the intro is named Maggie. She and I took a marvelous nap yesterday on my roommate Emily's couch. It was so nice to spend a night at Em's house, seeing her world and enjoying her neighbors and parents and home-cooked food. I was very content.
So I've written of the possibility of getting any real work done today, what with the concert and rehearsals taking up all day. And that is fine, because I'm set for Monday. But I must get to the bus now, making sure I have everything. There's a great fog out there today, so I will enjoy the cross-campus walk very much.
I wish you all a happy December, and I'm glad I finally sat down and wrote an entry. It's nice to spill thoughts and goodness into the blogosphere. Peace in this busy time of year, and God bless.
xox
Monday, September 24, 2012
college blog numero uno
Hi, I'm still Anna. :)
I'm over a month in, and the blogging's been nonexistent! oopsie. But otherwise I seem to be keeping afloat pretty well, considering the all-out inundation of social, spiritual, mental and gustatorial (if you include late night snacking) delights.
Here's a summary of the past four weeks:
Somewhat awkward first meeting of my cohort mates. Camping trip--canoeing, jumping in cold water, discussing wisdom, sharing fears, laughing, stars reflecting in the lake, cold dewy tenty mornings, day-long hike, nicknames, inside jokes. Orientation: more new freshmen buddies, fun/silly activities, better-than-usual dining hall food. Start to classes, and the irony of my first class being one in math--Accounting 107--after all the loathing I've heaped on it for years. Homework and social life--these two can be balanced? Beginning the flow of philosophical thought in my brain. Feel the burn. Growing accustomed to hills. Growing accustomed to my wonderful dorm room. Decorating, piece by piece. Sharing it with the hall girls. Loving my hall mates. Finding study spots. Keeping tabs on the great blue heron that likes to hang out in the pond. Lectures and debates and discussions. Swing dance club, Latinos Unidos club, Italy club--wishing I had the time. Enjoying fall's approach. Reading aloud. Rejoicing in the beauty of campus. Practising (ooh, good reminder) my guitar chords. Speaking with Russian accent. Meeting people, liking them. Weekend with Hannah at her home in central PA--going to the fair, sitting on a tractor for the first time, viewing tractor pulls, eating fried food, not fried food, sleeping, enjoying mountainous countryside. Being blessed by time with her family. Late night walks, by light of full moons and waxing crescent moons. Looking forward to time with cousins soon. More homework. Adventures. Shenanigans.
I have not nearly covered it, but that is a sampling. And it's a delectable one. Another blog habit I'll start is listing the diverse forms of study breaks friends and I take in a week.
Today, I'll list all that I've done so far: moonlit walks, dancing, dancing, dancing, youtube videos, working out, massage chains, Wendell Berry poetry. :)
Have a lovely week, y'all!
xox
I'm over a month in, and the blogging's been nonexistent! oopsie. But otherwise I seem to be keeping afloat pretty well, considering the all-out inundation of social, spiritual, mental and gustatorial (if you include late night snacking) delights.
Here's a summary of the past four weeks:
Somewhat awkward first meeting of my cohort mates. Camping trip--canoeing, jumping in cold water, discussing wisdom, sharing fears, laughing, stars reflecting in the lake, cold dewy tenty mornings, day-long hike, nicknames, inside jokes. Orientation: more new freshmen buddies, fun/silly activities, better-than-usual dining hall food. Start to classes, and the irony of my first class being one in math--Accounting 107--after all the loathing I've heaped on it for years. Homework and social life--these two can be balanced? Beginning the flow of philosophical thought in my brain. Feel the burn. Growing accustomed to hills. Growing accustomed to my wonderful dorm room. Decorating, piece by piece. Sharing it with the hall girls. Loving my hall mates. Finding study spots. Keeping tabs on the great blue heron that likes to hang out in the pond. Lectures and debates and discussions. Swing dance club, Latinos Unidos club, Italy club--wishing I had the time. Enjoying fall's approach. Reading aloud. Rejoicing in the beauty of campus. Practising (ooh, good reminder) my guitar chords. Speaking with Russian accent. Meeting people, liking them. Weekend with Hannah at her home in central PA--going to the fair, sitting on a tractor for the first time, viewing tractor pulls, eating fried food, not fried food, sleeping, enjoying mountainous countryside. Being blessed by time with her family. Late night walks, by light of full moons and waxing crescent moons. Looking forward to time with cousins soon. More homework. Adventures. Shenanigans.
I have not nearly covered it, but that is a sampling. And it's a delectable one. Another blog habit I'll start is listing the diverse forms of study breaks friends and I take in a week.
Today, I'll list all that I've done so far: moonlit walks, dancing, dancing, dancing, youtube videos, working out, massage chains, Wendell Berry poetry. :)
Have a lovely week, y'all!
xox
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
semi-final destination :)
Did you know that the
geographical coordinates of Bogotá and Philadelphia line up longitudinally,
almost exactly? I did, because I googled it. That is so much fun. And with the
help of Skype, all those latitudinal lines separating me from a beloved continent seem to fade.
Here I am, headed out
to my home for the next four years: the Templeton Honors College at Eastern
University. I’m glad for many things at this time—not the least of them being
excellent goodbyes from many diverse groups of friends. Glad for the van that
can contain all my crap from here to there. Glad for the hand of protection
over our vehicle. Glad for
the changes, glad for the old. Glad for the prospect of meeting lots of
neat new people this year. Glad for the friends I leave behind. Glad for the new Mumford T-shirt. Glad for the
PA hills on all sides right now and for four more years.
But,
more to the point, I guess I’m thankful. It’s been a while since I had such a
cool way to spend my time as digging in deep to academia. I welcome the daily
challenge of returning to schoolwork. I even welcome the tests and quizzes that
will inevitably come (but just ask me in two months). And this time, it’s not
just school; I get to have the fun of dorm life added on! If we’re being
honest, I have awaited this time of life since the first day I set foot in high
school. I recognize, now as ever, that none of these blessings are earned by my
Wheaton-North-worthy GPA, my list of extracurriculars, or the work experience I
have gained this past year. Nope. All are God-given gifts to spur me on my
journey in the path he hasn’t hesitated in forming for me.
If the next decade could play out exactly as I am
dreaming it would (which it won’t, and I am okay with that), it would look a
lot like this:
Four excellent years of undergrad at THC, gleaning
knowledge in all topics that interest me and learning from truly great minds.
Grad school—either in Costa Rica (there's a particularly good program there) or here in
USA—to add to the palatability of my resume. Then, off to Bogotá or Buenos Aires
to work for Globant. That’s the sueño.
Other than that, the plan is to enjoy the heck out of the next four years at college. What a bummer
there are only four, and they’re going to fly. I’ll not waste a day.
With regards to the blog, I think I’ll keep going. Why
stop a ball that’s already rolling? Plus, there are some people in the world
that read it. Thanks, guys. :)
Blessings on you readers, wherever, whoever, however. May
your autumn bring you such excitement and novelty and joy as I am almost sure
to have. And thank you for sojourning with me through this most marvelous Gap
Year.
HERE’s where Bunny’s got to.
Shalom. xox
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