Stealing Hearts and Breaking Bones

2011-11-08T03:27:00.001-08:00

Let me tell you a story from a distant land

The girl beloved, the girl self damned

Surrounded by people, infinitely alone

Behold the Ice Queen on her throne

It’s made of glass and grains of sand

And memories she never had

The sharpest edges cut her down

She bleeds but damn it makes her proud

Standing, blood drips to her toes

Barefoot and bloody, but no one knows

Because her magic tells them otherwise

Because instead of truth they’d rather be blind

To escape it better pluck out your eyes

Offer your hands and let them be tied

They pulled out her heart as a sacrifice

Because she prayed to make it through the night

So now a vision, now a dream

She haunts the castle and she can’t leave

A wisp of a specter with a story to tell

An angel who forgot that from heaven she fell

Now with sad, white eyes and a naked frown

She wears on her head the broken crown

She tried to cast away so many times

But it keeps coming back night after night

And she doesn’t know why, she doesn’t know how

Either how to be lost or how to be found

So she wanders the snow, cold and barefoot

And watches the mountains, pale and distant

She doesn’t move just stares and stares

And starts to cry like she can’t bear

The sight of the distant rocky cliffs

Night after night she repeats this

Because someone told her once that he would move the mountains for her

But he lied because still those mountains tower over her

So even as a ghost, even in death

Her utter loneliness she can’t forget

First week of school it's very important to look adorable

2011-09-23T03:10:00.001-07:00

Make Me Remember

2011-09-10T00:12:00.000-07:00

Wrote this a couple days ago. It's not finished yet, but I like where it seems to be going :)

Please make me feel tonight

Make me remember feelings that I forgot that I had

When I’m next to you I feel half human

I can do the love with the pain so find me a Cupid’s

bow to shoot me through the heart

I can take the pain if it’s a new start

I like that you’re more than meets my I

love that you’ll text me late at night

and ask me to tell you about my life

Because you know I need to spill who I am

But no one asks the questions so I feel I can’t

Tell me, tell me, tell me somethins

Is this the ball or is it just a pumpkin?

Is it just a ploy? Is it just a trick?

Are you faking or are you interested?

Fall asleep with me over the phone

Describe the world that you come from

Type out the worlds that you have built

and I’ll sing to you this page you’ve filled

Makes Me Think - MMT #14890

2011-09-06T00:37:00.000-07:00

Makes Me Think - MMT #14890

Today, my fiancé returned home from his final tour of duty in Afghanistan. Yesterday he was just my boyfriend, or so I thought. Almost a year ago, he mailed me a package. He told me I wasn’t allowed to open it until he got home, which was only supposed to be two weeks away. But then his tour got extended for another 11 months. Today, when he got home, he told me to open the package, and just as I pulled the ring out of the box, he got down on one knee. MMT

This site is amazing.

2011-09-05T23:45:00.000-07:00

Makes Me Think - MMT #15253

Today, it has been five years since I last cut myself. Five years ago my dog, Benny, saw me cutting myself in my basement and barked hysterically until I stopped. Every time I took out a razor to cut from that point forward, before I even began, he did the same thing. Benny is my best friend and the reason I gave-up cutting. MMT

2011-08-30T23:56:00.000-07:00

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-30T01:28:00.001-07:00

Three things you are proud of about your personality

I will never give up on you.

I believe in the goodness of people, and I look for the best in you, no matter what your reputation, or other people, or your t-shir

I love understanding how things work. So that includes the mechanism by which food is digested in the stomach with cells that produce hydrochloric acid. It also includes you. Tell me what makes you tick, and why you are the way you are, because if you think you’re awesome, or you think you’re an ass, I genuinely want to know what made you that way.

2011-08-29T23:55:00.000-07:00

2011-08-29T00:14:00.000-07:00

2011-08-28T23:54:00.000-07:00

2011-08-27T23:53:00.000-07:00

2011-08-27T00:13:00.000-07:00

2011-08-26T23:51:00.000-07:00

2011-08-26T00:10:00.000-07:00

2011-08-25T23:49:00.000-07:00

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-25T23:06:00.000-07:00

The best thing to happen to you this week?

This week has been absolutely amazing. My cousin, my sis, and I learned this song and sang it in three part harmony for his birthday, and then the bonfire at the beach under the stars, and the band playing our favorite songs for us, and staying up late talking about everything, and watching Sherlock Holmes. This week has been the best summer of my life.

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-25T01:31:00.000-07:00

Name the family member you're closest to and describe your relationship with them

I’m closest with my sister Mary. I’ve been told that sisters usually despise one another, don’t get along, and never talk. My sister and I aren’t like that. We live together, eat together, go to school together, sometimes say the same sentence together, it’s crazy. My sister says we have a psychic link because of how we talk at the same time and finish each other’s sentences. Sometimes she’ll look at me and I’ll know what she’s asking. Or sometimes I’ll say, “What song am I thinking of that sounds like that one song you showed me yesterday?” and she’ll know. Sometimes my knee will hurt and usually it’s ‘cause Mary’s been too hard on hers, and somehow I know. We can be crazy together, and we can just sit and not hardly say anything for hours and it’s not weird or anything. Our voices may sound virtually identical over the phone, but we’re both really different people with different histories; how I think and process is so opposite of how Mar does. I’m logical, she’s emotional. I’m cautious and she jumps right in. I analyze and she goes with her gut. I do things when I feel like it, and she’s super disciplined. I’m a nightowl and she goes to bed at nine.

To sum it up, let me just tell you what Mar told me about two days ago. We were talking about how some of our friends are starting to get married, and she said “When you get pregnant, I’m moving in. I don’t know where your husband is going to go, but I’m going to live with you. And for those nine months when you’re fat and bitchy and no one likes you, I’ll love you anyway and buy weird groceries for all your cravings…but when the baby is born I’m leaving, that thing is your problem, not mine.”

2011-08-25T00:16:00.001-07:00

2011-08-24T23:48:00.000-07:00

I stink of wood burning and cigarette smoke, and saltwater, and good music, and I wouldn't have it any other way :)

2011-08-24T01:00:00.000-07:00

You are

2011-08-23T02:54:00.001-07:00

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-23T02:46:00.000-07:00

Your views on drugs and alcohol

Besides aspirin, I don't use em, don't need em. I'm a little...crazy...as it is, so I don't need anything to make me more so. I have enough trouble with my self control as it is, so there's no need to make that worse. And considering my family's history, I'd say my genetics are begging me to stay away from the stuff. Or maybe they're begging me to try it.

Either way, I don't care if other people indulge, so long as they do so responsibly. Marijuana should be legal, kids old enough to sign up for the military are old enough to drink, and alcohol doesn't make you a better driver.

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-19T04:11:00.001-07:00

Weird things you do when you're alone

I change out of my pajamas...into pajamas.
I sing in the shower
I sing in the kitchen
I watch and rewatch fan videos of everything I'm into
I sing all of the songs I've written out loud
I pop an entire bowl of popcorn just for myself
Sometimes I sleep all day instead of getting up
I clean the kitchen
Oh man even the weird things I do are boring boring boring.

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-19T04:03:00.001-07:00

Ten of your wildest dreams

One a scale of one to wildest, here we go. Once in a dream…

…I lost my dog
…I woke up, lived a whole day, went back to sleep, and woke up to find it all a dream
…the Redwood Forest collapsed around me as I drove through it
…there was a car accident and I stopped to help
…there was an alligator in the golf course pond and it attacked someone
…planes dropped bombs on my neighborhood, and we literally headed for the hills to escape
…my friend was kidnapped, and I had to rescue her by myself because no one would help
…there were these huge swimming pools like at an amusement park, but then there was a flood, and I had to rescue a kid from drowning
…someone broke into my house, and I had to fight him off, and when I knocked him out he turned into a balloon and I tied him to a chair, and then my neighbor, Oprah came over and was being nosy and I had to pretend like nothing was wrong.
…My mom was pregnant.

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-19T04:02:00.003-07:00

First ten songs when I put my music on shuffle

Before He Cheats, Carrie Underwood
Body Language, Queen
Battle of One, 30 Seconds to Mars
Won’t Back Down, Eminem
Slow Down, The Beatles
Jump, Glee Cast
Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Queen
Cooties, Aimee Allen
Neutron Star Collision, Muse
I Wish I Felt Nothing, The Wallflowers

Advice from one of my best friends...

2011-08-19T04:00:00.001-07:00

Q&A with Katy

2011-08-17T00:53:00.001-07:00

Top 10 things you look for in a friend.

I love being everyone's friend, but letting people close enough to hurt me and actually letting people be friends with me is a lot harder for me. So if you're my friend, then you probably

Care. Are honest with me. Treat others with respect. Tell me what's up with you. Listen to what's up with me. Smile and laugh with (or sometimes at) me. Forgive me when I mess up. Lean on me when you need it. Call me instead of me always calling you. Love me back.

2011-08-15T12:59:00.000-07:00

2011-08-15T02:53:00.001-07:00

Don't Give Up

2011-08-15T02:25:00.000-07:00

I'll be the force that holds you to the earth
and the wind beneath your wings to carry you so far from hurt
Just let me in and I promise you
That I will be the best thing for you
No stop, don't turn around and quit listenin'
We need each other like a secret needs whisperin'
Don't give up before anything has started at all
Don't give up when I've already started to fall
what if I could be strong for the both of us?
What if I could be the girl who really is the one?
Don't give up before you really even know me at all

I could be the ship and sails to take you home
And the light of a rescue boat of your very own
Just take me in and make me yours
And I swear to change your whole world
Just please don't leave and make me keep followin'
I need you like a pinky promise needs promisin'
Don't give up before anything has happened at all
Oh don't give up when I've seen the future and I fall
What if I could be strong enough to hold you up?
What if love could bring the best out of both of us?
Don't walk away before you even really know me at all
Don't stand down when i know that you can stand tall

Baby I'll the wind beneath your wings
I'll rescue you and I'll set you free
Don't hold shut the door
when I can see you're on the floor
And you're bleeding out that blood so red,
and I'm shouting out to let me in
because I love you
and I know my arms around you
and I know my hands all on you

can bring you back to life

So don't give up before you really even know me at all
You're standing down when I know that you can stand tall
What if you could be the one to flick the switch?
Turn on the light and feel the heat of the brightness
I'm watching you give up and just give in to the dark
But please turn around because you're walking out with my heart

I may be a liar but at least I tell the truth about that

2011-07-01T03:23:00.000-07:00

Today was not better than yesterday...

2011-07-01T03:22:00.001-07:00

When I Run Through Fountains

2011-06-09T12:17:00.000-07:00

I say that I can't feel my heart beat
but I can feel its ghost beat
drums that make my feet
dance again

I sometimes think the wind blows
just to tell me it's cold
enough to warm up my old
smile again

I'm feeling this ice cold
river of a rainbow
falling over my own
shadow of myself

And when I stand in the sun
I see my shadow fall down
and through it shines bright sun
in in a heart on the ground

Is Broken Really Beautiful?

2011-06-03T01:13:00.000-07:00

I feel my fear of what I think you are

like my irrational phobia of the dark

Wildly backing out from the start

Like an emotional reaction pre-broken heart

I tried...I tried to warn you
that I would only let you down
And I know...I know I told you
That baby, I don't got no heart sounds
If you feel for me, if you ask for more
I will shut you down, I will close the door
There's so much of me that sleeps within
And you aren't shouting so I can't listen
I feel deaf and I want to hear
if my heart still beats or if it's left me here
I think I'm blind but I want to see
if I'm as ugly as I seem
I can't move I'm paralyzed
to watch my life become a lie
Is this all I am, this hopeless fraud,
promising I can see, hear, and I can walk?

This is Your Line of My Song

2011-06-03T01:09:00.000-07:00

05.10.11

When your home is far away
we have to listen to the stars that say
to look up
I say look up
You won't lose who you are
and you won't lose where you were
if you just look up
I said look up
if the stars are over head or over home
You are never alone.

Silence Sits on Me

2011-06-03T01:05:00.000-07:00

Ask and I'll give you my heart to break it
But you won't ask, so you can't take it
Something's happening inside of me
Stones are where my heart is s'posed to be
No one's coming to save me from it
Eventually I'll die of it
Before me stretches an empty path
I'll reap the future I know I have
I trekked into the desert blindly
And I may have lost myself to winding roads
Watch the walls crumble away
I keep thinking there's something to say
But the more I look for answers the more I lose my faith
The more I search for words the less I wanna say

Untitled

2011-06-03T01:02:00.000-07:00

You don't stop to listen
and I'm watching myself choke on fears and inhibitions

I’m watching history as it falls of my old bookshelf
and repeats itself again that tale I wish weren’t part of myself

So I'll just say it

I'm worried because I don't think you listened when I told you not to care
I know I told you this would happen and you too it like a dare
Like yeah we'll just see, let's just try it and see

I'm worried because you talked me into doing something I definitely knew I shouldn't
I said no so many times- I said it would lead you on, and you said it couldn't
Well now I'm seeing you seeing me and I don't like the way you're staring
I told you not get attached to me because you can't change the skin I'm wearing
Do you remember this skin as being warm that night?
Let me tell you, sir, it's cold as ice tonight

And I think there's someone warm enough to bring me back to life and thaw me out
I think a kiss could give me breath again and someone will be able to draw me out
But I know now it's not you, and I knew before that it wasn't you
I told you I'd seen what happens when I lead someone on and you
Just laughed it off, claiming the tables would be turned and I'd be chasing you
A little voice in my head wished I hadn't already seen me facing you
And leaving you behind like the ghosts of nightmares I keep killing off
Did you think I didn't have the experience to did your killing job?

Here's what I think
You don't realize how easy it is to be cold when I have no heartbeat
Feel my icy hand slap you across the face and remind you not to leap for me
Don't take a step of faith for this because there's no invisible stairs
You're just being stupid and you'll fall, because that's just invisible thin air
And I can hear it in your voice and I'm seeing it in your eyes
That my hands on him are connecting the dots of that lie
I think you've been constructing about how there's some kind of we now
And these observations of you are pushing me to consider how
I can get someone else to wrap his arms more tightly around me
to reinforce walls hiding my inside self screaming
"I need you to back off" because you're greatly mistaken
About who you are to be because I wasn't faking
When I said I wasn't going to care about you at all
I know that sounds fucked up but you have to admit I didn't lie at all
I was totally honest about how I would treat you
Like nothing happened and I've done just that but you
Seem like you were expecting more and it's making me grab onto something strong
to hold onto while your waves crash and I let my body say you're wrong
So I lean into him and feel your eyes are blazing into me
But I ignore you because he's just as cold as I am, and I hope you'll simply read
What my body language says and I turn away from you
and face someone else so you'll get more than just a clue
That you need to let me go, and I was right all along
That you let yourself think too far ahead, and you were wrong

Because I want him...her...anyone else
I want what you aren't and I want you to forget what you felt
Because that night as I was hesitant you explained I wasn't just anyone so it was okay
and I froze. Because I was thinking 'You could be anyone and this would be the same'
There's a good time, having fun, and then there's just usin you
I'm not sure I've crossed the line and don't I already know if I have to argue?

watch me turn my back and walk away so I can help you visualize

If my words don't reach you I don't know how to make you realize

That I'm not Wonder Woman, Amazonian strong
I'm just broken...and it's nobody's fault
But you won't be able to fix what you didn't break
Believe me, I've been watching myself carve out my heart and serve it up on a plate
To my demons who drink the blood my heart struggles to beat
This heart's so completely fucked up that it can't compete
With the demons and ghosts packing snow in my veins
With the memories and stench of everything about yesterday

Write down that I'm wrong and I'll fold it up real small
I'll jam it in my heart and pretend it makes me strong
But all the crumpled notes and all that bloody history
turns into the blood that's running through my arteries

What you're feeling for isn't a whole woman at all
I've been told I'm part ghost and that explains nearly all
Of what you've seen and what I am
and how I act and why I dance
Away from questions long overdue
toward any and all conviction to hide from you

Performed at Spring Quarter Scratch, May 2011

There is a Triangle...

2011-05-10T00:48:00.001-07:00

And it is impossible to complete.

She Left You Here to Burn

2011-05-01T19:43:00.000-07:00

She called last Saturday night, and said she didn't call to fight
but she needed out
And as your knees hit the concrete floor she said she couldn't tell you more
there's nothing to tell

I'm watchin her take you down to the Valley of the Shadow

I'm watchin her take you down a road you don't wanna follow

She's a-twistin you up inside, and I think she's so full of lies

that she left you here to burn, I think she left you here to burn

And she's a-cryin on your shoulder, because she told you not to hold her

I think she's so full of lies, I think she's so full of lies

She called you yesterday just to talk about her day
and you remember
She starts goin on and on about the crap that's goin wrong
but all you can see is that she's gone

I'm watchin her take you down to the Valley of the Shadow

I'm watchin her take you down a road you don't wanna follow

She's a-twistin you up inside, and I think she's so full of lies

that she left you here to burn, I think she left you here to burn

And she's a-cryin on your shoulder, because she told you not to hold her

I think she's so full of lies, I think she's so full of lies

When she calls you hang up the phone; gotta cut that rope that ties that stone
around your neck to pull you down
but she's got you in her grip, and you can't let it start to slip
or she'll be gone

I'm watchin her take you down to the Valley of the Shadow
I'm watchin her take you down a road you don't wanna follow
She's a-twistin you up inside, and I think she's so full of lies
that she left you here to burn, I think she left you here to burn
And she's a-cryin on your shoulder, because she told you not to hold her
I think she's so full of lies, I think she's so full of lies

You Don't Stop to Listen

2011-05-01T19:36:00.000-07:00

Still you don't stop to listen

and I'm watching myself choke on fears and inhibitions

I'm watching history as it falls off my old bookshelf

and repeats itself again that tale I wish weren't part of myself

So you're making me feel bad because you don't like a critic

but I have to change this time around and I think the truth is worth it

And you wouldn't know 'cause you've worked hard to not know me

But I've been here before and watched my world fall down around me

So go ahead, be mad at me, make me feel like shit

Beating me makes you feel better, but unlike you I'll take it.

Write down that I'm wrong and I'll fold it up real small

I'll jam it in my heart and pretend it makes me strong

But all the crumpled notes and all that bloody history

turns into the blood that's running through my arteries

Eventually all that pain teaches a lesson

The Girl Who Gave a Damn becomes a woman to be reckoned with

Loneliness Heartbreak

2011-05-01T19:31:00.000-07:00

She cries herself to sleep thinkin' about it

wonderin if she'll ever find herself without

and it's eating her at night, infecting her insides

it's made her heart its meal, so there's nothing she can feel

except that loneliness heartbreak

I said that loneliness heartache

There must be something wrong with her outsides

betraying ugly emptiness inside

She said "I wish I didn't think this is all there is for me

But isn't twenty years enough to find someone to love?"

There's only loneliness heartbreak

call her Miss Lonely and Heartache'd

There hasn't been a day she's not reminded

how alone she is and how bad the night is

She wraps her arms around herself

and repeats the lie that they all tell

"Alone today but not someday

keep your chin up there's still someday"

But she's been saying it now for years

and she thinks someday has disappeared

so she turns her face to the wall

and lets the tears silently fall

She'll be alone tomorrow like tonight

Time to blow out her candle lights.

Sometimes You Cross My Mind

2011-01-24T23:21:00.000-08:00

012411

Have you ever seen that photograph of you and I
holding close on graduation night?
Do you ever wonder what it woulda been like
if it had been a different time?
You never told me, and I never guessed
You never asked me, and I never said
And sometimes it crosses my mind
That we coulda had a story, you and I

A thousand miles away I'm movin' on
From a thousand lies we told under the sun
You always were that one who got away
But now I know I'm better off today
Without you here, without you there
As a regret I made into a nightmare
From the past there's no escape
so I think I'm lucky I got away

but Have you ever seen that photograph of you and I
holding close on graduation night?
Do you ever wonder what it woulda been like
if it had been a different time?
You never told me, and I never guessed
You never asked me, and I never said
And sometimes it crosses my mind
That we coulda had a story, you and I

A thousand times I've seen our story, Trey
and a thousand times I've died in different ways
Maybe I dodged your bullet years ago
But it's your memory I can't let go of
So I might be here, but sometimes I'm there
In your arms and I'd think of where
I'd be without you in my life
if there were no story of you and I

Well have you ever seen that photograph of you and I
Holding close on graduation night?
Do you ever wonder what it woulda been like
If it had been a different time?
You never told me, and I never guessed
You never asked me, and I never said
And sometimes it crosses my mind
That we could had a story, you and I

Christina Taylor

2011-01-24T23:07:00.000-08:00

I'm sick of this churning and all of this yearning
and why are you hiding so I take the firing?
Bullets from the sky
rain down on her life
Tell me how to find, tell me what to look for
Shield her from the rain, say it's only danger
hunting us to death, counting every breath
Save her from the blood, the rivers they are running
Off with her address, gone to tell the press
The world is rolling off the edge

These papers are piling and someone is dialing
But my phone is broken like my heart was stolen
Bullets from the sky
rain down on her life
Tell me not to run, tell me to find him
Shield her from the rain, say it's only danger
Hunting us to death, counting every breath
save her from the blood
the rivers they are running
Off with her address, gone to tell the press
the world has tumbled off the edge

The world has tumbled off the edge...

She's Something of a Legend...

2010-12-07T02:10:00.000-08:00

Dear Mom,

I just thought I'd write to you and tell you what your influence has meant to me over the twenty years I've been alive. We could start with the fact that you decided to homeschool me (and the rest of your kids), which has been a source of my passion for learning, my academic achievements, and my desire to succeed in high school and now college. Or we could begin with your commitment to supporting me in all my endeavors; from coming to my softball games, to seeing my art shows, to flying to Washington with me as I competed for a scholarship, you've always been right there, encouraging me. I could talk about your teaching me practical skills like baking and sewing that I'm constantly using these days to patch my jeans, repair my sheets, and make my own dinners. Or I could mention that you encouraged me to follow a healthy lifestyle by holding me to higher standards, and teaching me to enjoy the outdoors. Perhaps I should start with your fantastic teaching abilities and patience, or maybe I'd better begin with your smile and how I love to hear you tell stories of when you were young. Oh! Maybe I could start with you reading Anne of Green Gables to Mary and I, and how I still love to hear you read. There are so many starting points, so many amazing things you've done for me. But I think I should start on a Sunday when I was six or seven.

I don't remember a whole lot about this particular Sunday. I'm only thinking it was a Sunday because I was in Sunday school. I remember you were teaching my Sunday school class and you gave some kind of invitation. I think I raised my hand and said I wanted to do that. You told me we should talk later, and we did. We were having some kind of family dinner that night with our relatives, but you and I sat in the car before going in and you talked with me about this important decision I wanted to make. Eventually you and I prayed together and I had the most inexpressible feeling of joy, because I'd just prayed for Jesus to be a part of my life.

The joy that I felt in that moment is something I search for every day. It's something I strive for. Even though my faith has been put through quite a battle, that joy is something I still cling to.

Mom, you brought me to that realization that I needed Jesus, and always, always you've spoken Truth into my life (even when I didn't want to hear it). You are the kind of mom I can boast about. You taught me how to bake cookies, pies, and how to make fudge. You showed me our secret recipes for Swedish meatballs. You make me guidebooks if I'm taking a roadtrip. You send me home with molasses cookies and fudge to share with my friends at college; you send me care packages. You have the most amazing hospitality and skill as a hostess, that I hope to aspire to. You've always welcomed my friends into your home, fed them, given them a place to spend the night. Just the other day you made homemade tomato soup just because Kole and Chase were coming over. You throw a great party, and make sure everyone has a good time.

I hope you know you're something of a legend. Your homeschooling, your cooking, your dedication, your humor, your love. You're a mom to everyone, but I'm lucky enough to be able to say you're my mom. It's something I truly appreciate every day.

I love you, Mom.

-Katy

Twilight and The Vampire Diaries

2010-12-06T23:10:00.000-08:00

Stefan: broody brood brood
Edward: broody brood broody brood

Hmm. This is suspicious. Both Twilight and The Vampire Diaries feature a brunette girl in high school being romanced by a vamp. Coincidence?

There is no defense for the blonde, vegetarian vamp hero who is constantly trying to save his brown-haired girlfriend from the dangers of evil vamps and werewolves. The only defense I have to offer is that the author of the books TVD is based on wrote her series years before Stephenie Meyer started writing her poorly constructed novels. One might even argue that she read the TVD series and decided to copy it, and it was unrecognizable because Meyer’s creative writing skills are so unbelievably terrible. (Example: "My mechanic is busy these days, busy running around as a giant wolf,” says Bella of Jacob.)

Current plan for avoiding being compared to Twilight: lots of oil, and naked legs; also a girl in a corset sitting in a guy's crotch with another guy's head in her crotch.

"If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed." -C.S. Lewis

2010-10-29T11:17:00.000-07:00

I was reading C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity this morning, which by the way is a masterpiece. I highly recommend it. But don't read it if you can't take an honest look at yourself. Today I was reading the few pages on pride, and what do you know, Lewis has some challenging things to say about it.

According to Lewis, Pride "is the complete anti-God state of mind."

Wow, that seems pretty strong right? Yeah, that's what I thought too, but he makes a strong case. Lewis lays out that Pride is essentially competition. Pride isn't about having the best car, it's about having a better car than the other guys out there. Pride isn't about getting good grades, it's about having better grades than other students. Pride isn't about feeling good about a job well done, Pride is actually putting yourself above everyone else and thinking that's natural and you're better than other people. Lewis argues that it is Pride, more than any other vice, that causes trouble in this world of ours. "Greed may drive men into competition if there is not enough to go round; but the proud man, even when he has got more than he can possibly want, will try to get still more just to assert his power."

Not only does Pride exacerbate other vices we have, but this competitiveness is the most awful thing. "Other vices may sometimes bring people together: you may find good fellowship and jokes and friendliness among drunken people or unchaste people. But Pride always means enmity- it is enmity." Lewis is saying that Pride is essentially making yourself an enemy to your fellow man, and it even makes you an enemy to God. "As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: an of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something above you."

So here is where it starts to get interesting. You can hear all of this stuff and go, "Ugh, jeez all these proud people are ruining the world!" Wait for it...wait for it... it's you. You're the proud person. And in Lewis' view, the people who are so proud they can't see anything but themselves, let alone God, even though they claim Christianity, these people are "worshiping an imaginary God." These people say they love God, but really all they care about is the approval they think they're getting for being not such a great Christian, but being a better Christian than someone else.

When we think so much of ourselves, especially as Christians, it influences every area of our lives. Soon we're becoming "better" people in all kinds of virtues. We're more kind, more self-controlled, more generous, just because it makes us better than others, not because we really care. It infects everything. "Pride is a spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense."

So, from what I can tell right now, we're all pretty much doomed. This Pride issue seems to run deep, and already I can see these qualities in myself if I'm honest. I mean, I take pride in my academic achievements, and give no credit where it's truly due- to God. This Pride that we have doesn't even hide itself away because our culture tells us we should be proud of ourselves, and think much of ourselves. As Lewis puts it, we tell ourselves that "All I have done has been done to satisfy my own ideals-or my artistic conscience- or the traditions of my family- or, in a word, because I'm That Kind of Chap."

Now it's clear. How often do you think of yourself as That Kind of Chap? I'll admit I do. I'm a much better person than that Hitler guy, and that dude over there doesn't do community service like I do. We think of ourselves in comparison to others, and we need to realize this type of comparison is unhealthy, and makes all of humankind our enemies to be competed with, and Pride turns God into this pat-on-the-back machine that's really there to congratulate us. It makes everything about us. So we're doomed, right?

Well maybe there's hope. "To love and admire anything outside yourself is to take one step away from utter spiritual ruin," Lewis says. God wants to know us, and our constant looking down is keeping us from looking up towards God. We need to realize that God is bigger, greater, perfecter, than us, and we'll never compare. We can't compete with that. Humility isn't about being poor or sad about yourself. Humility is about putting other people first. It means taking your eyes off yourself for two seconds and taking an interest in someone else. Lewis points out these people are easy to recognize because they're interested in what you have to say. "If you do dislike [a humble man] it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily."

I don't know about you, but all this pride stuff really made me recognize in myself a lot of what Lewis was talking about. It's time we put others first, and not because we want to put others first better than anyone else. It's because God loves us all. He really doesn't love you more than He loves me, and He doesn't love me more than He loves anyone else. We should stop pretending He does.

They Call You the Heartbreak Thief

2010-10-04T23:20:00.000-07:00

07.08.10

I'm bored of you, I'm sick of you
I can't believe I listened to you
Filled up my head with pretty trash
Though you were beggin' me back
Thought you'd turned a corner, turned a leaf
But you're nothin' but a heartbreak thief

I see what you really are
I see through your costume make up
I see through this sick facade
You can take off the White Knight get up
You never lied to me, but you cried to me
Told me you need me
You're a liar.

I'm bored with this, I'm sick of you
And no I can't, won't believe you
Filled up my head with beautiful lies
Somehow I didn't think of what you had to hide
Thought you'd changed for real, but no change at all
You're what we call a heartbreak thief

I see what you really are
I see through your costume make up
I see through this sick facade
You can take off the White Knight get up
You never lied to me, but you cried to me
Told me you needed me
You're a liar.

And I'm still here alone, still searching for someone to love
But ain't nobody gonna take me, I'm all broken down
With my broken heart
You heartbreak thief

Anything For You

2010-09-08T00:36:00.000-07:00

I'm a glutton for punishment, but I know I can take it
Give me your pain - I need you to make it
I've got this box for you
and a lock for it too
Knock me down, gimme your best shot
I'm tellin' you, I'm more than what you're not
I can handle it, whatever you've got
Give it to me, baby, it's what I want

If it hurts you, send it my way
I'll put it in my heart and at the end of the day
It'll chew up my insides like a disease
But better me, 'cause for you baby, anything.
Hurt me, hate me, I can really take it
Burn me, break me, I'll do it for your sake
Not you, take me, it'll never break me
Guilt me, shame me, go ahead and hang me
Cut me, stake me, but you can't ever slay me
Eat me, drain me, Just so long as I'll be saving
you

It's masochistic, but at least it works, right?
It might take you down, but give it to me and I'll put up a fight
I've got a cell for it
It'll give me hell for this
It might kill me, but baby I can save you
Give me monsters, you know that I'll come through
Beat me down, and spill my blood
As I go down I'll pull you up

If it hurts you, send it my way
I'll put it in my heart and at the end of the day
It'll chew up my insides like a disease
But better me, 'cause for you baby, anything.
Hurt me, hate me, I can really take it
Burn me, break me, I'll do it for your sake
Not you, take me, it'll never break me
Guilt me, shame me, Go ahead and hang me
Cut me, stake me, you can't ever slay me
Eat me, drain me, Just so long as I'll be saving
you.

Closer

2010-09-07T00:00:00.000-07:00

Closer than a brother, you understand
You know the real me and still love who I am
I can lean on you and you'll hold me up,
I can close my eyes and fall 'cause you have my trust
I cry when I'm with you, I cry 'cause I miss you
You're not a dream I dreamed, or I thought I'd seen
You're the friend I need, yeah you're the real thing
So stand by me when there's no one to run to
Fall into my arms when you think nobody loves you
Give me all your hurt, and hand over your pain
Tell me when you're lonely and when you're afraid
Hold my hand and we'll walk this way
When everyone is leaving know that I'll stay
Through the storms, through the wind and rain
We'll hold on to love, we'll hold on to faith
You can lean on me when you can't be brave
If it were me I know you'd do the same
Tell me the story, tell me your mess
It's not gonna make me love you any less
When you smile at me I know the world's alright
You make me believe that I can still try
I laugh when I'm with you, I cry when I miss you
This is too good to be a dream I dreamed
I love you and that's the real thing
So stand by me when the world is screaming
and I'll fall into your arms when I think nobody loves me
Tell me 'bout your day and I'll tell you 'bout my nightmares
I'll wear this ring and you'll know I'll always be there
Hold my hand and we'll walk this way
Holding on to love, keeping the faith
I trust you, I believe in your best
Don't let anybody say you're any less
Sometimes my world is so dark that I get scared
So tell me it's okay and that God hears our prayers
If I have a day when I hurt so bad
Wrap me in a hug and tell me that
"I smile when I'm with you, I cry when I miss you
Don't worry now, girl, 'cause you'll make it through
This darkness here is just a dream you dreamed,
I love you and that's the real thing
Oh take my hand and we'll walk this way
We might be broken but together we're brave."
Tell me when your wings won't fly
and I promise to carry you through the night

I'm Feeling Optimistic at This Very Moment

2010-08-19T05:50:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's the large quantities of caffeine I've recently imbibed, but I'm feeling quite optimistic about this next school year. I start in September and I'm pretty excited about my classes, about having a change of scenery, about meeting new people, keeping in touch with old friends, and keeping up with the school work. Strangely enough I'm looking forward to typing notes on lectures so fast my spelling is all off. And I'm eagerly anticipating my first paper. Ah, it must be too long since my traumatic experience with Spring finals. The emotional trauma of being trapped in a basement for two days and an all nighter whilst finishing several papers seems to have faded, and I'm ready to jump back into the rush of a busy day, and the crunch of homework.

There are so many uncertainties that I have right now. Like, am I in the right major? Am I supposed to be a nurse? Maybe I shouldn't have switched and I should go back to pre-med. What if my classes are too hard? What if I get an awfully hard teacher? Is first quarter going to be as bad as last year's first quarter? How will I squeeze all my jackets and my shoes into the tiny closets they give us? But I don't seem to care. At this very moment I feel optimistic that it'll all work out. I have a planner, and colored pens, and a positive attitude. I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna pass with flying colors. I'm going to smile. I'm going to do well in school, and have a social life. I'm going to make that impossibility happen.

Or maybe that's just the several energy drinks talking.

But I hope this optimism lasts. I kinda like it.

Nothing Left Unsaid

2010-08-17T20:15:00.000-07:00

If you died tomorrow, would you be happy with today?
If I'd be gone tomorrow is there something else you'd say?
If the world were ending would you finally change?
If destiny existed, would you look my way?

There's so many "ifs" in a life like this
So many "maybes" in a world gone crazy
While it's all goin' down and you're all runnin' round
It's easy to forget that this is life and you're livin' it
Don't take it for granted, don't say you'll do it later
Don't coast by when you could be doin' greater things
Scream at the rain, and laugh at the lightning
Never give up and find a fight worth fighting
Say "I love you" to the ones you love
You don't want to wonder if you said it enough
Kiss like you mean it, and cry all the harder
Whatever you do know that once you're dead
There's no one to say the things you left unsaid

It's easy to say you'll do it on some other day
Easy to run instead of trying to be brave
But if you had to tell the truth, what would you say?
If you had the chance, would you show your face?

Chorus

What if you could know the day you'd die?
Would you confess everything to Jesus Christ?
Do you think you won't be crying at the end of your life
over regrets you can't forget even though you tried?

Chorus

Well there was ice on the road of my last dark night
and last I remember there were bright headlights
I head the crunch of the metal and a piercing cry
I saw the blood and knew it was mine
I took my last breath under a starry night
And the life shuddered out of me as I died
As I got cold, I saw my life
And all I could think was that I wouldn't have another try

There were so many "ifs" in the life I missed
So many "maybes" in a world gone crazy
While it was all goin' down and I was all runnin' 'round
It was easy to forget that that was life and I was missin' it
I took it for granted, I said I'd do it later
I coasted by when I coulda been doin' greater things
So scream at the rain and laugh at the lightning
Never give up and find a fight worth fighting
I didn't say "I love you" to the ones I loved
And now I wonder if I said it enough
Oh kiss like you mean it, and cry all the harder
Search the stars when your heart starts to wander
But listen to me because now I'm dead
and there's no one to say the things I left unsaid

Regrets

2010-08-12T00:13:00.000-07:00

Like an ocean wave, like slap to the face
like too many people in a too-small space
I can't sort 'em out and I can't kick 'em out
There's too many things to be thinkin' about
Remembering the many - too many- mistakes
Dustin' off the memories of long-gone days
Pacin' up and down to the beat of my worry
Runnin' round in circles to the tune of my hurry
I wanna look forward, I keep lookin' back
I wanna lose the ghosts but I can't do that

This is What Alone Feels Like

2010-08-11T23:54:00.000-07:00

I don't think you know what it's like to be alone
As the world just goes on spinning, you stand alone and just get dizzy
Ice skates fly across the ice,
tracing lines into the night

...and I just stand here watching time go by
Waiting to go home,
waiting to not be alone
waiting for your arms around me
a warm embrace to hold me tightly
give me your hand, tell me you love me
hold me here, tell me you need me

I don't think you know how I feel when I'm alone
As the world catches fire and ignites, you stand aside and die a bit inside
The trumpet man plays the blues so softly
And I think I feel your touch caress me

Chorus

No I don't think you know the chill of being alone
Everybody else so lovely, you drift along just feeling lonely
There's no stars the night is dark
Empty, silent, like your heart

Chorus
Say that you're mine, say that you love me
Touch your cheek to mine and say that you can't breathe
Oh just say to me, say that you love me

Pirates Aren't Cool in Elementary School

2010-06-11T15:38:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Back to working with word sort. Today there were about three different kids at once all working on different word sorts. Actually Nick continued to tell me he was sorting words, when all the while he was plainly cutting up paper squares into smaller squares. He eventually got around to sorting, but then kept sticking his nose into Chrystal’s word sort, which Chrystal was none too happy about. She would say a word before explaining it to me, and Nick would start telling me what it meant before she could get a word in edgewise.

Two of the words that stuck out today were “bandit” and “pirate”. Chrystal didn’t know what either word meant, so I told her a bandit was a robber, and a pirate was a robber who did his robbing at sea. I said bandits would hold up carriages and banks in the Wild West, and pirates would do the same thing with ships on the ocean. Nick butted in that Blackbeard was a pirate and started to tell a story about him, but Chrystal looked so furious I told him not to. After I’d explained what a pirate was, Chrystal did not look happy.

“I’m scared,” She said quietly, and that made me feel pretty bad. I hadn’t said anything scary or terrible about pirates, except that they were robbers, but maybe that was enough. I grew up reading stories of a romanticized Wild West and hero bandits who would hold up rich carriages, and stories of Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest, but I then didn't grow up in the city where muggings were a daily occurrence. Needless to say, we moved on.

2nd Graders and Mr. Incredible

2010-06-11T15:22:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

I continued working with the kids on their Word Sorts today, and although most of the day was mundane, there were a few amusing instances worth recounting. The kids cycle through sorting their words pretty quickly, but one boy stayed with me sorting words for quite some time. His name is Nick, and if you imagine a miniature version of Mr. Incredible minus the costume from the Disney Pixar animated film, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what Nick looks like. He’s taller than half the kids in class, and has a heavy build and rudy cheeks. His brow is often furrowed in concentration, when other kids are ignoring their work, and he dutifully follows all of Ms. Visala’s instructions.

Nick sorted the words quickly enough, and then began to read each word to me and grant me a long, drawn-out explanation of what each word meant. In between words he told me little tidbits about his life- he used to live in Texas, he loves watching the old Scooby Doo cartoons with his dad. His stories were amusing, and his astonishment that I had never seen the cartoon where Scooby Doo meets Batman was a laugh-out-loud occasion. He told jokes, and spoke in such a grown-up manner that just about everything he said was funny. If you put him in a suit you could pass him off as a little person and no one would know the difference.

Two of the words today were “dead” and “death”, and I was interested to hear his explanations of them. He passed over “dead” pretty quickly, but when we hit “death” he rubbed his chin like he had a beard to rub for a few seconds. Then he looked straight into my eyes and said, “Well who do you think puts you up there?” He pointed at the ceiling. “Or down there?” He pointed at the floor.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I asked him just that, and repeated what he’d said, still pointing, and looked at me expectantly. “Well who do you think?” He asked again? It dawned on me that he was talking about Death, as in the Grim Reaper.

“You mean the Grim Reaper?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but he always wears a long coat, and he either puts you up there (points up) or down there (points down).”

He seemed so serious, but the matter-of-fact way he said “Well who do you think” just cracked me up. He smiled too.

“I try to be funny,” he said, “for the adults.” He was completely serious. “We kids have too much fun, you know, but you adults don’t. You know, it’s-“ and he mimed stacking papers and looking serious. “That’s it.”

This kid was just too much. I tried to contain my laughter, and thanked him for being so funny, because it certainly was working, and I certainly was having fun.

The Beautiful Things that Heaven Bears

2010-06-07T20:53:00.000-07:00

America. It is a land of opportunity, a country where streets are paved with gold. Those with the highest aspirations know they can only be reached here in this place. It is the kind of place where dreams come true, and money grows on trees, and all live together pursuing freedom, and truth, and justice. It is the Promised Land purported to be flowing with the milk of hope and the honey of dreams. But for immigrants the milk and honey may have a bitterness natives don’t understand.

Author Dinaw Mengestu describes the isolation of immigrants exquisitely in his book, The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears. Three lines of poetry from Dante’s Inferno represent the whole of the book in their poignancy,

“Through a round aperture I saw appear,
Some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears,
Where we came forth, and once more saw the stars.”

Mengestu’s book has five main characters, three of whom are foreign immigrants. Sepha is from Nigeria, his friend Joseph from the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Kenneth is from Kenya. Judith, a white woman, and her biracial daughter, Naomi, are wealthy newcomers to a predominantly poor area of town, immigrants of a different kind. The lines from Inferno summarize the four isolating types of hell Sepha, Joseph, Kenneth, and Judith experience as immigrants, and the agony that’s all too common among foreign immigrants to the United States.

Joseph represents the understandable reluctance of immigrants to assimilate to a new culture. Mengestu describes Joseph as someone who cannot let go of Africa. He is a man who walks forward, but with his back to the future, forever walking backward, so that he can watch his home country disappearing. In one scene Joseph comments on the lines from the Inferno above saying, “… No one can understand that line like an African because that is what we lived through. Hell every day with only glimpses of heaven in between (Mengestu, 2007, 100).” He, like many immigrants, still longs for his homeland with an undiminished love that spans time and distance. “There was hardly a single thing in Joseph’s life…that hadn’t become a metaphor for Africa. From great lines of poetry to the angle of falling light on a spring afternoon, he saw flashes of the continent wherever he went (Mengestu, 2007, 100).” The pursuit of “flashes of the continent” manifests itself in the formation of ethnic ghettos, which provide a community for immigrants, but also perpetuate their segregation from the rest of society.The hell that Joseph and the immigrants living in ghettos are experiencing is the Hell of Homelessness. Although these immigrants have come to a new country to enjoy its benefits, it is not their home, and their true home is the unreachable star in the heavens, untouchable, except by its cheap imitation in ghettos, the Africa metaphors Joseph sees everywhere.

Kenneth is another type of immigrant. He represents an immigrant caught between two worlds who reaches unceasingly for the carrot of a new country dangling in front of his nose. While Joseph misses Africa and sees its image in everything, “Kenneth hates him for this (Mengestu, 2007, 100).” Kenneth is hyper-conscious of his status as a foreign immigrant. Like Fanon, he sees how he is being seen by the natives, and he hates it. He always appears respectable by wearing a pressed shirt and an impeccably tied tie. “He believes in the power of a well-tailored suit to command the attention and respect of those who might not otherwise give him a second thought (Mengestu, 2).” His teeth, which are neither straight, nor white, stay hidden behind his hand when he talks to natives; he is self-conscious about who he is, and yet he gives a big grin to his friends when they ask him about his teeth, saying “’You can never forget where you came from if you have teeth as ugly as these’ (Mengestu, 3,” in self-deprecation.

He lives in imitation of the wealthy, successful men he wants to be, repeating the same phrases over and over because that’s what successful Americans do, and hanging up the phone abruptly because the powerful “can dismiss with a wave of the hand and never think twice about it (Mengestu, 2007, 35).” Yet, despite all of his charades he is no closer to being a successful, wealthy American, and he is trapped his hell. He hates seeing how he is seen, and tries to make himself someone different in response, but can’t, and must continuing the cycle of loathing. He hates his hell, sees the stars outside, and cannot help but wish he were out there, and cannot help but hate the place he must remain.

Perhaps the strangest of Mengestu’s characters is not alcoholic Joseph, or Ken the engineer, but the mysterious Judith. She is a white woman, a single mother of a biracial daughter, a former professor of American political history, and she’s moved into a new neighborhood that’s so unfamiliar it’s practically a foreign country. Judith is the unwelcome immigrant, the foreigner who wants nothing more than to live her life, but finds herself the object of the neighborhood’s animosity toward strangers, the butt of nativism’s humorless joke.

Mengestu has turned nativism on its head in his portrayal of Judith as its victim. Normally when we picture over-zealous patriots uniting against foreigners, we see white Arizonans turning on the immigrants of color from Mexico, or the citizens of Boston or New York confining immigrants from all over the world to ghettos in the 1900s, but here the natives are poor, predominantly Black, and they turn on a wealthy white newcomer. The irony is striking.

When Judith first moves in Mrs. Davis, a native, sums up the neighborhood attitude towards her. “’Why do you think a woman like that would wanna live here? Doesn’t seem right, does it?’ (Mengestu, 2007, 23)” Judith is the character who represents the immigrants who come to the United States and find discrimination in the place of the welcome they expected. A 2008 article in Ebony describes the hatred Somali immigrants are facing in Columbus, Ohio. The city is home to the nation’s second-largest population of Somalis, 45,000, but nativism is a tragic problem that has fueled shootings, deaths, vandalism, and prejudice. In an irony that almost matches that of Mengestu, the native Black community is often at odds with African newcomers. A mosque where nearly 1,500 Somalis worship has been repeatedly vandalized, and the words “Go back to Africa” have been spray-painted on it. The congregation was even the target of a paintball gun attack. This type of degrading discrimination is seen all over the United States and is symptomatic of the Hell of Discrimination experienced by many new immigrants.

At last we come to the last of Mengestu’s representations of immigrants, the last of the characters he places in a hell, Sepha. He is the immigrant who hates himself, who can’t let go of Africa, but Sepha does not have the same hatred as Kenneth, or the same nostalgia as Joseph. His enemy is not the way others see him; his enemy is not the unfamiliarity of the New World. No, Sepha’s enemy is his own mind, and the trauma that tortures him. Sepha has isolated himself in a hell because his silent betrayal caused his father’s death, and neither he, nor his father, can forgive him now. Like Judas, who killed himself after he betrayed his Lord, Sepha considers his sin to be so great that he cannot allow himself to move on.

Sepha is less of a true immigrant, and more of an exile, pushed out of his home by his mother, plagued with survivor’s guilt. Although Sepha talks about going home throughout the novel, he can’t bring himself to actually do it, because he can’t go home, because he must remain in exile in penance of the sins he believes he has committed. This character represents a small community of immigrants whose very existence is painful to them. They feel that they could have done something to avert the catastrophe that caused them to flee their home country, or that the event was their fault. These survivors reside in a hell of their own making, constantly reminding themselves of the trauma they experienced. Sepha is fairly disinterested with his life in the present because to him his past makes a future to look forward to unattainable.

Sepha is so traumatized, is so entrenched in his hell, that he cannot have ambitions, cannot wish anything good for himself. He quits his job, runs away from his problems, but most of his major decisions haven’t actually been his own. His mother pushes him to leave Africa, his uncle drags him to a job interview and does all the talking, even his store is Kenneth’s idea. He sees the beautiful things heaven bears in a possible relationship with Judith, and when talking about expanding the store, but he never reaches for them because he knows he just doesn’t deserve them. This Hell of Guilt is the hell where inhabitants see the stars and do not weep to know they will never be theirs, but accept passively that they are unworthy even of the light of the stars.

Each of these characters is living in a hell. Joseph because he is homeless, constantly looking backward, Kenneth because he hates being seen as a foreigner, Judith because she is unwelcome, and Sepha because he is guilt-ridden. These four represent four types of immigrants in the United States, the ghetto inhabitant, the stereotyped, the persecuted, and the survivors. Every one of them, even the survivor, is isolated in his new “home”. We think of America as this utopia, this paradise of freedom, and truth, and justice, but we can be as unwelcoming as a nightmare of a mother-in-law, as misunderstanding as a deaf man, and as discriminatory as a slave owner. Today we rarely turn our heads to discuss the plight of immigrants in the US today, unless we’re complaining about the rising numbers of illegal immigrants. The legal immigrants are too often overlooked. But as illegal immigration increases nativist sentiments, and these issues go un-discussed and swept under the rug, we are isolating those whom years ago founded the idea of American freedom- immigrants. Too many immigrants come to America out of a hell, because they see the beautiful things our heaven bears, and too often they are instead isolated in a new hell where they can see the stars but never touch them.

The New Missionary Movement of Today

2010-06-07T20:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Dr. Táíwò,

I am writing to you about your book, How Colonialism Preempted Modernity in Africa. It was a challenging read. I found it to be dense, packed with all the details I wanted to know; it was thorough, every facet of your subject was covered; it was fair, you presented both sides of an topic and clearly demonstrated with level-headed argument your point. As ripe with controversial issues as your book is, I would like to discuss with you what I found to be the most personally challenging aspect of your book, and I’d like to open with an anecdote.

The year is 1999. I’m nine years old. I have been on my feet for most of the day and I’m sweating through my cotton dress; the small cinderblock church keeps most of the heat at bay so the afternoon sun isn’t too oppressive. I’m watching a young girl about my age named Julita have her hand wrapped in bandages by a nurse. She had made to flip the light switch on in her home, and a current of electricity had shot through her, burning her fingers. There was nothing her family could do for her injury, so she had gone on with her day. It was now a few weeks later and one of the nurses had spotted her playing with the other children and, horrified, told her to fetch her parents and come back to the clinic. I watch as the tiny, yellowed bones that protrude from her fingertips where she’d touched the switch disappear under gauze. Gangrene gnaws at her hand and she has no idea. It will kill her if left untreated. An untreated electrocution wound infected with gangrene is unheard of in the United States. But Julita lives in the Dominican Republic, and my family was there with the Christian and Missionary Alliance to run temporary medical clinics in slums and rural areas.

In your book you discuss the role of missionaries in the spread of the philosophy of colonialism in Africa. You separate these missionaries into two groups: those who participate in the autonomy model, and those who support the aid model. This is the topic I found myself wrestling with. As a missionary myself, your words not only put me immediately on the defensive, but I began to question if I had done more harm than good on my missionary ventures. In 2008 my dad and I took a trip with the Christian Medical Society to Nicaragua to administer medical aid to a poor area. While my year in the Dominican Republic was formative – it hugely shaped my character, my outlook on the world, and my hopes and dreams – the Nicaragua trip was a result of this formation. I have an urgent desire to help those in need, but I have never deeply considered the concept of agency or the themes in your book when dreaming about a future as a missionary doctor. I don’t think as a nine-year-old I had any concept of treating Dominicans as any less than human. Humans were humans to me at that age, color didn’t matter. But today I found myself faced with the image of Schweitzer from Le Gran Blanc and, though I dreaded it, I had to ask myself if I was looking at a reflection of myself, or if I was only imagining I saw myself in him.

After all, Schweitzer ran a medical hospital in a rural area of Africa that had no other access to healthcare. He spent his life in service treating many people who probably would have died without his attention. Since the Dominican Republic I have been chasing a dream to become a medical doctor in order to serve those who need it most. I have often thought about moving to the third world full-time after becoming a doctor. The film on Schweitzer, the subsequent discussions of it, then your book, reminded me that it’s easy for missionaries today to export more than just their faith. They might also transmit sociocryonics, be guilty of Schweitzer’s paternalism, or adhere unconsciously to the aid model, all whilst ministering to their flock with the best of intentions. If I join a missionary organization will I just be a pawn in a larger movement to discount, discourage, and destroy native agency?

You thoroughly explore the consequences of the missionary aid model in your book, so I don’t feel it’s necessary to repeat your arguments as my own, but I would like to examine the state of missions in the world today to determine whether or not the aid model still dominates the mission field. Although “…the aid model has so inured itself in the African imagination that even so-called progressives cannot wean themselves from it (Taiwo, 2010),” I believe the age of aid missionaries is coming to an end as missions that follow the autonomy model become more prevalent. Today, the most ambitious projects, the missions and aid organizations that are truly changing the world, are the ones that encourage native agency. I argue that a third wave of missionaries is sweeping the globe in a new movement that is empowering native missionaries, and spreading a renewed philosophy that’s cracking the tough exterior of sociocryonics left and right.

Recently the numbers of native missionaries have been climbing. Europeans and Americans once had the market cornered on sending missionaries from a home country to a foreign one, but no longer. Forty years ago the some 3,500 cross-cultural native missionaries were a small group compared to the massive export of missionaries by the United States, but that number has shot up to an estimated 103,000 native missionaries today (Moll, 2006).This means that Christian converts are not only leading their own churches, but are sending members of their own congregations to plant churches and inspire other native missionaries in foreign countries; the students are becoming leaders to teach other students to lead. There may be no better example of a missionary autonomy model than this recent explosion of native missions.

Native missions have been particularly strong in recent years. In fact, “South Korea alone sends out as many new missionaries each year as all of the countries of the West combined (Moll, 2006).” This Korean movement that’s now disseminating native agency philosophy worldwide is exceptional. In 1980 the church there had 80 missionaries in other countries; ten years later there were 1,200 missionaries abroad, and today nearly 13,000 missionaries from South Korea are serving in other countries (Moll, 2006). These South Korean missionaries are running their own churches, and deploying missionaries to teach other native Christians to do the same. The autonomy model is alive and well in South Korea, and they’re spreading it around the world.

Advancing Native Missions (ANM) is an organization that partners with native missionaries. Its mission statement proposes that natives are in a unique position to minister because they already know the culture, the language, the geography, the political scene, etc. This particular example of the autonomy model is extraordinary in that it elevates native missions above Western missions. It doesn’t discount or discredit Western missions, but ANM recognizes that an Indian reaching out to India, and Iranians reaching out to Iran can be more effective than a white missionary in an area foreign to him. According to ANM 80% of world evangelization today is now done by native missionaries, a flabbergasting statistic (ANM, 2002). In your book you mention that around the turn of the twentieth century African native agency was being overthrown by missionaries and administrators who had “convinced themselves that Africans could not be trusted to run their own affairs (Taiwo, 2010),” and while I agree that this second wave of missionaries helped rob Africans of their subjectivity, I also think that it was soon supplanted by a third wave that was interested in restoring agency.

In 1953, a missionary doctor named Helen Roseveare traveled to Congo to spread the gospel and administer medical care to the area. She was a single white woman, a graduate of Cambridge, and she was a rare gem, who fought for an autonomy model, despite the opposition of other missionaries in Congo. She began to build a hospital by hand, making and firing the bricks herself to construct the buildings, and “within eleven years, a 14-acre plot of land had been turned into a 100 bed hospital and maternity complex with all the necessary buildings and services (Voelkel, 2010).” Roseveare didn’t run an entire hospital on her own; she trained natives as medical assistants and midwives, and they established 48 clinics in the area (Voelkel, 2010). When civil war broke out in 1964, rebel forces took her captive, destroyed her hospital, and beat and raped her. She was released and she went home to England, but returned a year later to build an even larger hospital and medical school for the newly independent country. No missionary is perfect, but Roseveare’s commitment to the autonomy model is noteworthy, especially as she was serving in a field primarily dominated by men who adhered to the aid model, and her work inspired many others to do the same.

Today perhaps the greatest example of the autonomy model in modern medical care is Paul Farmer’s Partners in Health (PIH). While PIH is not a Christian organization, it eviscerates the aid model while building on the autonomy model. Farmer has a love for Haiti, and that’s where he chose to start PIH. Angered by the quality of care usually afforded to the sick by “aid” organizations, Farmer set a new standard. He not only focused on treating disease, he tackled disease prevention with education programs and community partnerships. PIH declares that “by whatever means necessary” any person who comes to a PIH clinic will receive the best care available at the facility (PIH, 2010). Indeed, “by whatever means necessary” includes Farmer stealing a microscope from Harvard to stock his Haitian hospital’s lab (Kidder, 2003). Farmer’s concept of treating the poor with the best medical care available was not just unheard of, it turned out to be revolutionary. The World Health Organization was put to shame when tiny PIH proved drug-resistant tuberculosis could be cured affordably and effectively in poor and rural areas. PIH has shown the world that the lives of everyone, no matter how poor, are of equal worth and should be treated accordingly.

Today I stand on the brink of graduating from my first year of college, and my life choices seem immensely pivotal. My dream of being a doctor, and possibly a missionary doctor, remain intact not despite, but because of, your book. The world needs more Paul Farmers, it needs more native missionaries, it needs the philosophy of native subjectivity to spread like wildfire, and I intend to drop matches everywhere possible in hopes the forest of hate, and prejudice, and stolen agency will go up in an orange blaze and be swept away. Thank you for writing a call to action.

Sincerely,

Katy Granath

Letters to the Battlefield

2010-06-07T20:47:00.000-07:00

I hear your voice over the telephone,
and you won't say what's goin' on
You sound so sad, I wanna hold you tight,
and tell you everything is gonna be alright
And I believe...that you'll come back to me
Oh I believe...that someday we will see
that we are where we're s'posed to be,
and you'll be standing next to me

So when there's fire and they're dropping bombs
the world's exploding and everything is wrong
When there's so much pain that you can't talk
and you're so afraid the night's too long
When you's so tired you can't be strong
and you need someone to be your rock
and you wanna hold a hand to help you walk
close your eyes and play this song

I hear your voice over the telephone,
and you won't say what's goin' on.
You sound so sad I wanna hold you tight,
and tell you everything is gonna be alright
And I believe...that you'll come back to me
oh I believe...that someday we will see
that we are where we're s'posed to be,
and you'll be standing next to me

If there's so much noise that you can't hear
or you think the end is drawing near
If you can't move there's too much fear
or you don't want anyone to see your tears
If the blood becomes too much to bear
or you wake up in the night with the nightmares
When you're holding onto nothing but a broken prayer
Listen to my voice and I'll protect you there

I hear your voice over the telephone
and you won't say what's goin' on
You sound so sad, I wanna hold you tight
and tell you everything is gonna be alright
'Cause I believe...that you'll come back to me
Oh I believe...that someday we will see
That we were where we're s'posed to be
and you'll be standing next to me

If you think the wrath of God is pouring down
and you're so lost you can't be found
When the screaming is so effing loud
It's in your head, you can't keep it out
if your heart is silent and it cannot pound
If you're sinking in the sand and you're gonna drown
I want you to put your gun down
and focus on me, and on this sound

I hear your voice over the telephone
and you won't say what's goin' on
You sound so sad, I wanna hold you tight
and tell you everything is gonna be alright
And I believe...that you'll come back to me
Oh I believe...that someday we will see
That we were where we're s'posed to be
And you'll be standing next to me

Looking at me now with a great big grin
As the rain beats down to wash away our sins
The clouds will break and the sun will shine
So you tell them that you can't lie
'cause you promised me you'd come home fine

I hear your voice over the telephone
and you won't say what's goin' on
You sound so sad, I wanna hold you tight
and tell you everything is gonna be alright
And I believe...that you'll come back to me
Oh I believe...that someday we will see
That we were where we're s'posed to be
And you'll be standing next to me

Waiting

2010-05-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

I don't think you know, what it's like to be alone.
As the world just goes on spinning, you stand alone and just get dizzy
Ice skates fly across the ice, tracing lines into the night
and I just stand here watching time go by...

Waiting to go home
Waiting to not be alone
Waiting for your arms around me
A warm embrace to hold me tightly
Give me your hand, tell me you love me
Kiss me hard, tell me you need me

'Cause I don't think you know, how I feel when I'm alone
As the world catches fire and ignites, you stand aside and die a bit inside
The trumpet man plays his blues so softly, and I think I feel your touch caress me
And I just stand here watching time go by...

Waiting to go home
Waiting to not be alone
Waiting for your arms around me
A warm embrace to hold me tightly
Give me your hand, tell me you love me
Kiss me hard, tell me you need me

No, I don't think you know, the chill of being alone
Everybody else so lovely, you drift along just feeling lonely
There's no stars the night is dark, empty, silent, like your heart
And I still stand here watching time go by...

Waiting to go home,
Waiting to not feel alone
Waiting for your arms around me
A warm embrace to hold me tightly
Give me your hand, tell me you love me
Kiss me hard, tell me you need me
Say that you're mine, say that you love me
Touch your cheek to mine and say that you can't breathe
Oh just say to me, just say to me, just say that you love me.

Boys and Girls

2010-05-11T22:16:00.000-07:00

We live in a time that tells us we should have a boy/girlfriend, a companion at all times. It's in every movie, every television show, every popular novel, every magazine. It's everywhere. There's this rumor someone started awhile back that you're really only half a person and your other half is out there somewhere and you'll be incomplete until you can find them. Honestly, what a stupid idea.

But boys and girls everywhere buy it!

Realize that you don't need to believe the rumor. You don't need someone else to complete you. You are an individual, a person already, you just refuse to realize it. Know who you are as an individual. That might sound silly, because how could you not know? But do you truly know you, or just who someone else wants you to be? If you're viewing yourself as incomplete, your perception is skewed and you don't know yourself.

You can't have a successful relationship with someone if you don't even know yourself. So hold off looking for love for awhile and focus on yourself. It sounds selfish, but you can't spend your life searching for someone to complete you when you're not even sure of your own identity.

Be the hero of your own life who doesn't need a love interest to complete you.

If You're Paranoid and Think Danger Might Find You, Read These Tips.

2010-05-11T21:54:00.000-07:00

1. If your friends suggest that you all go check out a very dark, or very scary looking building, say no. Or at least turn on the lights when you explore.

2. If you enter a dark room and the light switch doesn’t work, leave immediately. Someone is trying to kill you.

3. If you absolutely must explore a dark creepy building, and your friend suggests splitting up, you should leave right away because a monster is about to start picking you off one by one

4. Everyone always drops their keys when trying to get in their car to run away from the villain. Just attach them to your wrist or neck with a lanyard and your death could be averted.

5. Just shell out the extra cash for bulletproof glass windows for your car and house and a nuclear bunker/panic room under your house. You’ll be much safer in times of danger when someone is trying to kill you.

6. When you pass through a deserted town on your road trip, keep going and do not stop. It’s deserted for a reason because someone/thing wants to kill anyone there.

7. When the power mysteriously goes out in your house, shut yourself in your nuclear bunker, someone is trying to kill you.

8. If you find that your house is built upon or near a cemetery, had previous inhabitants who went mad or committed suicide or died in some horrible fashion, move away immediately. This is one of the only situations in which your nuclear bunker will not keep you safe.

9. There might be someone lurking in the backseat of your car, so just check it out before you even get in the car. Use a flashlight to look through the windows, and keep your car clean, so you don’t mistake a scary person trying to kill you for a rumpled up blanket.

10. If your window mysteriously bangs open, be immediately on guard. It’s not just the wind, someone is trying to kill you.

11. If you find out you’re a descendent of someone who killed lots of people, rounded up vampires, burned witches at the stake, etc, lock yourself in your nuclear bunker and plan to live there the rest of your life because someone might try to kill you.

12. If your friend is bitten by a zombie, or hiding something during a zombie attack that might be a bite, don’t hold out hope for your friend. They’re already becoming a zombie and they will try to eat you just when you’ve barricaded yourself in a semi-safe spot.

13. If anyone suggests you split up, tell them to shut up. Splitting up will definitely get you killed. Faster than staying together anyways.

14. Be nice to everyone. Being mean to someone may incur wrath and vengeance, and they will try to kill you.

15. The danger is definitely not over if the sun hasn’t risen yet. If it’s night time, the bad guy is still around. And trying to kill you.

16. If you must explore deserted, creepy buildings do so in the day time. Horror strikes at night.

17. If you think the villain/monster chasing you will not give up after one night of terrorizing you, move to Alaska, there’s more daytime there.

18. If someone is chasing you, do not run up the stairs, and do not head for the top of the building. There is no escape from someone trying to kill you. Duh.

19. Remember that even though it looks like you’ve killed the monster, you probably haven’t. Don’t make sure by going up to it and poking it, or sticking your face into its face. This often leads to death. Instead, stand back and kill it several more times in various ways.

20. Standing on a grave, will make a hand come out of the ground that will grab your ankle.

21. If you’re seeing dead people, do not approach anyone’s bed. A hand will shoot out and grab your ankle.

22. If you see a stranger with a chainsaw, an ax, a knife, or any other weapon, do not let him anywhere near you. Even if he has Bud Light. He’s trying to kill you.

23. If it feels like you’re in a horror movie, think of yourself as the audience. Did you lock the front door? What would the audience be telling you right now? That you didn’t lock the windows or the back door and someone’s trying to kill you, that’s right. So go do that.

24. In fact, if you feel like you’re in a horror movie, skip locking the doors or windows and head straight for your nuclear bunker because someone’s trying to kill you.

25. If you’re not sure something’s dead, you’re not sure how to kill something/one, or you’re fighting zombies/vampires, behead them. It usually works.

26. If you’re in a situation where you’re not sure something’s dead, you’re not sure how to kill something/one, or you’re fighting zombies/vampires, don’t bother with fighting them, just hide in your nuclear bunker.

27. If you yell “hello” or “who’s there” into the darkness, something will answer you. By grabbing you and leaving your flashlight behind to fall on the ground.

28. Taking a shower at home, alone, in the dark, is always always a bad idea. This isn't a difficult concept. Unless you're in a nuclear bunker. Then it's fine.

29. If you really want to be safe, lock yourself in your nuclear bunker and live there. It’s not practical, and it’s anti-social, but so long as you have cable you’ll probably be mentally stable. Besides, someone could try to kill you, so it's safer to just stay there.Think about it. You'll survive zombie attacks, alien invasions, mysterious viruses that kill the entire population, rabid dogs, rabid people, monsters, a resurgence of the Black Death, the Happening, nuclear fallout, lepers, killer meteors, swine flue, and robots gone rogue, along with almost everything else.

PS. A friend just reviewed this list and reminded me that a normal nuclear bunker is not sufficient, as the earth's core could blow up, or you might have earthquake trouble. Keep in mind that this nuclear bunker should not be your average run of the mill nuclear bunker. It probably needs to be a buried spaceship with a drill attached to the nose so you can escape the earth's core blowing up. For the best protection bury it under the ocean floor. The pressure down there will hopefully crush anyone coming to kill you, and you'll have the added bonus of being very safe from just about everything. Except possibly Decepticons. And don't forget that you really do need cable so you'll know if scientists declare that the earth's core is going to blow up or if Decepticons are roaming the planet.

What's an Angel?

2010-05-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

I've been working at an elementary school in Seattle with the Children's Literacy Project (CLP), which sends tutors to schools to work with kids. I'm a tutor, and I'll be posting exerpts from my CLP journal.

After lunch the kids came back and I worked on lists of vocabulary with them. Most of them could read the words pretty well, although I had to remind them to sound out a word here or there. I drilled a few kids on these lists before discovering that some of them didn’t know what the words they were reading actually meant. After that I had them read the list and then define each word. I explained words to every kid save one. She was a tiny thing with beautiful brown eyes and a haircut that reminded me of Ramona, a character in a book by Beverly Cleary I’d read over and over when I was this girl’s age. Her dark bangs looked to have been recently cut jaggedly across her forehead. She sat down and read each of the words precisely, and then gave me a series of detailed definitions and examples for each word on the list. She told me the word "moist" meant "a type of of weather, like precipitation" and pronounced each syllable of precipitation so matter-of-factly that I had to grin.The list had both “angle” and “angel” in it, which every child thus far had confused. She breezed right through it. When we reached “angel” again for definitions, she had to think for a moment.

“An angel is… it’s…” she faltered, then continued. “An angel is someone with spirit.”

Just before a correction jumped out of my mouth I stopped myself, unable to say anything. Finally I said,

“Right, that’s right. Next one?” and we continued on. Her words stuck with me for the rest of the day. I don't know about you, but I can't think of anyone I know whom I would describe as an Angel without saying that they have spirit as well.

Justin Bieber isn't for Second Graders

2010-05-05T20:29:00.000-07:00

I've been working at an elementary school in Seattle with the Children's Literacy Project (CLP), which sends tutors to schools to work with kids. I'm a tutor, and I'll be posting exerpts from my CLP journal.

One girl I worked with couldn't have cared less about the vocabulary words we were reviewing. The second-grader had a larger-than-life crush on teen sensation Justin Bieber, a YouTube star turned musical protégé. I’m not sure how it came up, but she said something about one of the words and related it to Justin Bieber in some obscure way. As she said his name she leapt out of her chair, clutching her heart and wailed “Oh Justin Bieber, I’m going to marry you!” I was so surprised I wasn’t sure what to do. I tried to convince her to move on to the next word, but she would have none of it. She continued carrying on about Justin Bieber for some time before she settled down. I fought to keep a straight face all the while. The next word was “cattle”. I asked her what it meant, but she ignored me.

“You don’t know what it means, do you?” I asked, in an effort to get her to speak. She crossed her arms and looked at me.

“Sure I do. Like Justin Bieber is a cattle.” I tried to contain myself, but failed. I laughed and said,

“I think the only thing they have in common is brown eyes”. Then I explained that cattle meant a bunch of cows, and she laughed too. When we got to the word “single” she again jumped out of her chair and pointed her finger high to the sky and began to sway back and forth singing Beyonce’s hit song, “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)”. She’d even memorized the choreography from the music video. I was really beginning to like this girl until one of her classmates sat down at the table next to her. She immediately made a face and said,

“Jenna is so fat, I don’t want her sitting next to me.” My mouth dropped open, and I was once again struck dumb by a second-grader. While the other little girl isn’t skinny, she certainly isn’t morbidly obese.

“We don’t talk like that to other people,” I said to her, but she ignored me and continued to mutter under her breath about Jenna. Jenna was distracting her, she couldn’t concentrate with Jenna there, and Jenna was dumb. All the while little Jenna said nothing, just concentrated on her work. When she said Jenna was dumb, I was done listening.

“Knock it off, quit being so nasty,” I snapped. “That’s rude.” She looked me right in the eyes with a condescending sneer. I hadn’t expected this previously bubbly girl to display such nastiness. “What did she do to you?” I asked.

“We were best friends,” she said, and indeed I’d seen them playing together inseparably just last week, “until she said I was cuckoo, and so now I’m going to be mean to her.”

The bell rang and every kid leapt to the door. The bell always seems to intercede at important moments. I walked home with a furrowed brow, thinking about what she said. It made me think about the influence media has on kids. She listened religiously to Justin Bieber songs, which are rife with messages to girls about having boyfriends. Beyonce’s music is lovely, but she doesn’t perform in 2nd grade classrooms for a reason. She’d hadn’t mentioned the TV shows she watched, but I was reminded of the statistic I’d read recently that ABC’s show Desperate Housewives is the most popular broadcast-network television show for kids ages 9-12. I wondered if this girl’s animosity toward Jenna could be due in part to negative media influencing her behavior.

The topic for my Psych term paper was born. I will be exploring the negative effects of media on children for my big final Psych paper.

Our Culture Calls Screaming Men Dancing Bears

2010-05-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

I sit at my desk and contemplate the Great Matters of Life. I have not yet typed a word. It is not that I have no words to write, it is that they are all piling up in my fingers, and I do not know which to type first. In my mind a jumble of words and ideas and angry tirades threatens to spill out onto the page. I picture Frantz Fanon writing in Black Skin, White Masks, “…there are too many idiots on this earth (177).” and I think he must have felt much as I do now; he is unsure of exactly how to begin his dissection, so he slices the entire carcass open. He didn’t write because he was asked, he wrote because someone must cast down the idiocies, and “someone” should not be anyone but yourself.

In Black Skin, White Masks, Fanon quotes Aimé Césaire’s Notebook of a Return to My Native Land: “And above all, beware, my body and my soul too, beware of crossing your arms in the sterile attitude of the spectator, because life is not a spectacle, because a sea of sorrows is not a proscenium, because a man who screams is not a dancing bear (164).” There is an idiocy that our society adheres to today, one I cannot escape the shame of knowing personally, one which it is difficult to exempt any one of us from it is so pervasive. Césaire’s warning has not reached our ears; we have crossed our arms, and we no longer see screaming men all around us, because we confuse them for the dancing bears. We use pain, and blood, and violence as entertainment, and consequently the sterile attitude of the spectator is too easy to assume, inevitable even. I will explore here the taste for violence we have cultivated and the effects of such a culture on society.

We have made life into a spectacle. The accusation is incontrovertible. Cameras follow “real families” around, record their drama, and broadcast it on television; we have an entire city in southern Nevada dedicated to providing spectacular shows to tourists; tabloids jump off the shelves if they include juicy details of someone’s life. The list goes on, but perhaps the best indicator of our addiction to spectacles is the level of violence our culture devours. We have a film industry that thrives on bringing spectacles to every major city in the world. Industries do not exist unless they sell a product the market wants to consume, and this one is feeding a ravenous crowd- it made a record-breaking 10.6 billion dollars last year in ticket sales alone (Briggs, 2010). The film industry exists to make a proscenium out of a sea of sorrows, but Hollywood’s obsession with carnage is particularly ghastly. Action films ablaze with gunfire baptize us in gore; horror films portray our worst nightmares, turn pain into a form of entertainment, and are incomplete without some form of human dismemberment.

Take the Saw series for example. The Saw movies exhibit some of the most gruesome scenes to ever grace a theater screen. Its horror may not be unprecedented, but its market appeal is. Audience infatuation has prompted not one, not two, but five sequels of what one critic reviewed as an exhibition of endless creative evil. In one scene, “Spread-eagled on a rack of sorts, Jeff's primary ‘opponent’ in his game screams and writhes as his arms and legs and finally his head are slowly twisted off his body (Isaac, 2006).” The camera doesn’t politely turn away, but shoots forward to let the audience have a better look. Our lack of protestation to horror of this kind is nothing short of disturbing. We not only neglect to object to the spectacle nature of the violence we have just watched, but it is our patronage that clamors for more with an unquenchable appetite. The intensity and the quantity of vicious brutality currently available for public consumption is mind-boggling.

We have become so used to bloodshed that we have difficulty recognizing our own passive acceptance of it as part of our culture. If the twisted bodies and bloodied limbs of Hollywood films have not yet moved you, compare this form of entertainment to that of the Romans’ Colosseum. Picture the spectators of Ancient Rome; they sit on the edge of their seats as the gladiators circle and jab at each other. The warriors cross blades, one trips the other, he draws blood, and the crowd gives a deafening roar as it takes to its feet in excitement. Blood sprays, a head rolls, and the show is over. Today we look at the Colosseum and say to each other, “Ah, it was a different time. They killed people for entertainment, can you imagine? How savage!” and pat each other on the back for having greatly advanced society. Yet even the Romans cannot match our unique affection for violence. The spectators of the Colosseum, who paid nothing for their show, could be seated almost an entire football field from the action (Hopkins, 2009). We sit in a theater seat we have paid to sit in and stare at a larger-than-life screen as the camera rushes closer to a man whose head is being crushed by a slab of concrete as he screams. The entire audience is staring into his eyes as brain matter and skull fragments spurt toward the camera and the life fades from him. In the real world this experience might cause post-traumatic stress disorder, but not in the dark safety of the cinema. We leave satisfied and we buy a ticket to the exhibition next month. What’s that you say? “It’s just a movie with actors, it’s not real”? Actors do not diminish the problem, they exacerbate it. How could we possibly belittle death any more, make it any more of a spectacle, than by saying it’s not real?

Our society has not advanced compared to the Ancient Romans when it comes to our bloodlust. In fact if anything, our demand for gore has been recognized on a level possibly never seen before in recorded history. Although classic literature is sopping with violence, and wars and executions and bloody deaths have been a way of life for thousands of years, no society has ever made murder an up-close-and-personal event before. Our society has so long been immersed in violence, we have forgotten it was once unnatural to be so blood-soaked, and so we raise our children in this culture without thought to the consequences. In our society the average child will have witnessed at least 16,000 murders and 200,000 violent acts on television by age 18 (American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 2009). We teach them death is actors on a screen, not reality. Death is a silly Wile E. Coyote dropping dynamite on a Road Runner. The violence of 200,000 murders, hate crimes, gory brawls, dismemberments, and shootings isn’t traumatizing for our children; after all, we have taught them to view death with the sterile attitude of the spectator.

The massive quantities of blood in 300 should make us nauseous; the war crimes depicted in Tears of the Sun should make us close our eyes and leave the theater; the body count of Kill Bill should have us protesting. Instead we call for more. Instead we sit bewitched, begging for more dancing bears. Now that we have examined the culture of violence we have fostered, let us explore the consequences of such a society. What is the disease that infects a society which pays to be made to cry, made to fear, made to laugh, made to feel? A society that inundates its members with carnage creates a society of spectators. Our spectator status relegates us to a life on the sidelines, so anesthetized to the plight of a world of screaming men that we pay an industry to inject us with the catharsis we have difficulty achieving on our own.

Our culture puts humans in a spectator state, it creates emotionally ambivalent people desensitized to the pain and suffering of other human beings. We have trouble seeing hatred in violence, or fear in war crimes, or horror in the body count of an earthquake that drowns thousands dead in rubble. To us the news is just movement on a screen, it’s not real. Not only are we emotionally unattached, but we see life from the perspective of spectators, unable to join the activity of the world at large. We can cheer from the sidelines for our favorite team, and we can boo at an umpire who makes a poor judgment call, but we see ourselves as entirely inactive members of global society. We are virtually powerless in this cycle that makes us spectators; we must consume violence to make us feel less numb, while it further desensitizes us to the true violence of the world around us.

It may seem as though there is no escape from our dismal destiny of desensitization, but there may yet be hope. Although we seem trapped in a vicious cycle, we are not yet beyond saving. We must throw off the guise of the spectator and take up the mantle of the man of action. My father once told me that a man cannot steer a parked car, and I wondered what he meant. In light of our spectatorship it becomes clear. All too often we are content to park our cars at the drive-in movie theater and remain complacent with our status as immobile spectators, but it is crucial that we put the key in the ignition and choose action over stationary passivity. Will we allow our humanity to be pulled from our own hands without a fight, or will we cling to its last shred, and can we still reclaim it as our own? We must claim our emotionality, our humanity, in our reality instead of searching for catharsis in film. We must be men and women of action instead of inaction. We must fight with tooth and nail the tremendous power society holds over us, and break free of the indoctrination we receive from it.

I sit at my desk and examine the final prayer of Fanon, “O my body, always make me a man who questions!” and I frown. I know there is a spectator in us all, and “a man who questions” sounds like a spectator. A spectator can question a referee’s call, he can inquire as to why genocide happens, he can ask how he can help the victims of the earthquake in Haiti, but he cannot actually involve himself- it’s not his place, he’s a spectator. Fanon suggests we should question, but I say we must take action. Go ahead and ask your questions politely, “Excuse me, pardon me, but why have you chained up that dancing bear?” I shall stride into the arena and cut the chains of the screaming man.

What's With the Vampires, You Ask?

2010-04-28T11:57:00.000-07:00

Vampires are the big thing right now. We put them in film, books, and tv shows; they're one of the biggest topics of debate since the presidential election; actors who play vamps are some of the most talked-about, followed-by-paparazzi, sighed-over-by-young-girls people since Brad Pitt was 30. The world goes gaga for vampires, and when people ask why, what's so special about them, I'm usually surprised. People think blood and biting and sucking blood is gross, okay I get that, but that's not the appeal of vampires.

These creatures of darkness will never lose their appeal because they are us. We see ourselves in vamps. They represent the human struggle in many ways, at other times they symbolize the uninhibited animals we sometimes wish we could be.

Take, for example, the "good" vampire. Whether it's Edward from the Twilight Saga, Stefan from the Vampire Diaries, or Bill from True Blood, or Louis de Pointe du Lac of Interview with a Vampire, these characters struggle with who they are. They despise themselves and their nature as dealers of death. They try to overcome their darkness and live for good. Tell me that is not the most human struggle of all. Tell me that is not the true meaning of humanity. We fight our inner demons every day, fighting off darkness, trying to be upright and good. Hasn't there been a day when you were tempted to do something you knew was wrong, but you wanted it so bad? Did you have the self-control to resist? Often when a vampire is hungry or angry, they are depicted as having actual physical changes to look more demon-like. What if our own ugly natures manifested themselves so? My god, perhaps we might hate ourselves too.

In opposition to this "good" vampire is the "bad" vampire. Think Eric of True Blood, Damon of Vampire Diaries, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Spike. This character knows his ugliness, and accepts it, embraces it, even displays it for all to see. He is beautiful to us because he does not hide who he is. He is most often the character who will be sexualized, because the audience can live vicariously through him. There is a dark side to everyone, but we deny it to ourselves. This character doesn't. He breaks all the rules we are constrained to obey. We choose to conform to the fabric of society, but there's a part of us that admires the person who doesn't, or doesn't have to.

This analysis could be expanded in a hundred ways: we like the promise of undying love (pun intended), absolute trust, sexualizing restraint, glorifying self-control, hoping for redemption, respecting life, wielding power. It's all of our human nature rolled up and put into a creature who may exemplify the human condition better than the human can himself. You can complain all you want that vampires are stupid and your girlfriend likes Twilight too much- even I admit there's should be a limit to an obsession. But don't pretend you don't find yourself strangely attracted in some secret corner of your heart to the vampire, because he is you, and isn't it human to love yourself?

Journaling

2010-04-25T19:55:00.000-07:00

Well maybe no one's reading this, but no matter. It's a journal so I'm going to keep writing in it. I was just thinking today about how intermittent my posts are. I also keep a written journal, that gets only very sporadic attention. I also draw, ad my sketchbooks look a lot like a diary, as do the books that I write my lyrics in. Then I thought about how amazing it would be if someday I synthesized all the journals and diaries I have into one big sketch/song/journaling thing. It would be pretty cool. It would also be huge. With 7 sketchbooks, 4 books of lyrics, this blog, and at least 4 separate notebooks that keep the story of my life, it would be a quite large, and quite complete view of my life. Maybe my writing isn't so intermittent after all, it just makes appearances in different formats. Someday I'll put it all together.

Strip Off His Feathers

2010-01-15T17:58:00.000-08:00

A long time ago there once was a time
a girl dreamed a dream, an impossible lie
There was a young prince who looked in her eyes
Who told her together they would fly high
But strip off his colors and what is he now?
Just the court jester playing around

A long time ago there once was a child
A girl dreamed a dream, an impossible lie
And eagle would fly her into the sky
They would fly to the stars, at least they would try
But strip off his feathers and what does she find?
A pig in the pen squealing his lie

There once was a woman who looked back in time
Remembering dreams, the impossible lies
She is alone now but never cries
happiness isn't found in a lie
So strip off her armor and what do you find?
Just the same woman, naked and white.

Taylor

2009-12-03T22:59:00.000-08:00

In a moment of clarity in a post-Twilight world one Taylor Lautner fan realizes it's a little disgusting...

All these girls craving unreal love
Drooling in lust that will never be enough
And I don't know why we buy it
But like a drug if you just try it
You'll suddenly become compliant
You'll realize you can't deny it

Have you seen Taylor? Have you seen Twilight?
Have you seen the girls wasting their lives?
Pining away for a love unreal
Wishing for the drama of One Tree Hill
Slavering for Chuck on Gossip Girl
Spread your legs and let the lust unfurl

I don't know why we buy
but like a drug if you just try it
you'll suddenly become compliant
You'll realize you can't deny it

Lick your lips and eat it up
Seventeen tells you how to fall in love
see New Moon and moan for more
of eight-pack abs and Teen Wolf taylor
Don't close your eyes you haven't seen it all
There's more to see and further to fall

I don't know why we buy it
but like a drug if you just try it
you'll suddenly become compliant
You'll realize you can't deny it

Coming Soon to a Bookstore Near You

2009-10-19T19:21:00.000-07:00

Samuel Burn is a lonely, bitter creature who believes he has lost touch with his last shred of humanity. But when he discovers an unimaginably dangerous enemy, Burn must make the choice between good and evil once and for all. A line has been drawn; will Burn fight for the men who have made his life hell, or choose to defend his immortal kin?

Kendra and Andy's Song

2009-09-22T20:05:00.000-07:00

Here you can see all this past history
Song after song tryin' to say what you've meant to me
But there's just so much to say
and my words came out faster as tears anyway
So I have to write this down so the words will flow
If I tried to say it out loud you know I'd choke
For the pas month and a half I've had this lump in my throat
How can I leave the two anchors who kept me afloat?
Throughout storm after storm, through the treacherous waves
You've never wavered, never stumbled, never caved
I was on this ship, Titanic, and it was going down
You pulled me up and outta the water before I drowned.
You wrapped a friendship blanket around me and said "You can survive"
And the warmth started to thaw my blind frozen eyes
This was no black hole I was fallin' in
It was just a dark tunnel and there was light at the end
I had literally though I might be better off dead
When you shook me awake and whispered "Try living again"
I was so terrified of going to sleep
I saw dark shadows and dreamed horrible dreams
Of terrors and monsters and nightmare things
Of fear and loneliness and birds without wings
The demons saw I was weak and they clawed at me
Chaining me up telling me I'd never be free
You shined the light of Christ into a dark dark life
And freed a scared lost girl who'd given up the fight
I just want you to know, I just want you to know
That before you took my hand I'd thought I was entirely, no joke, alone.
You set me on my feet and said it would be okay
You helped me learn to walk again and quit being afraid
I don't think you knew what you were doing in my life at the time
But know now you did more than talk to me for hours at a time
You never EVER told me you didn't have time for me
And you helped me remember the person I could be
I think I've cried a lot, but you made me laugh more
Made me realize I don't have to be sad anymore
You two have made me laugh longer and harder than ever before
Remember the time you said that thing about that movie that you mighta lost your pants for?
Or when we laughed for days over a remark Jayme had made
Or the time SOMEbody's gum ended up in the bottom of my lemonade?
If I've ever been in love, I fell in love with your boys
and running around in your backyard throwing dripping tennis balls Ginger destroys
You guys have played so many roles in my life
Teacher, mentor, sister, brother, friend, and guiding light
I don't know how to thank you or even put into words
The difference you made in the once scared lost little girl
I'll admit as I write this a tear or two is staining the page
But it's okay 'cause I know I'm not lost or afraid

Sticks and Stones Will Bruise My Bones, But Words Will Surely Destroy Me

2009-09-22T19:53:00.000-07:00

"I hate you", "you're fat" and "you disgust me"
The words are just words but they still hurt me
We had a fight and I walked away
and now it's over is what you say
But your abuse keeps coming from left and right
Brutal gladiator wounds to make me cry
You say I mean nothing, what we had was a joke
You say I was easy and your eyes are cold
I thought we were stronger
But I was wrong, I'm not strong enough for this
I'm trying to move on, but you won't let me
every time I take a step you drag me back ten feet

With these words like bricks smashing into my skull
with these words like fists crushing into my soul
Like I can't take a breath I'm suffocating
These verbal weapons are exterminating
All I can do is hit the floor
and think about everything and cry some more

My Mom calls me a bitch and says I'm a whore
She's told me I'm worthless since I was four
They say not to believe her, but how can I not?
I am weak and stupid, and it's all my fault
I know I'm not worth much so I let them use me
for sex, for fun, I let them abuse me
People have tried to tell me I'm so much more
But I think they're wrong, I know I'm a whore
I moved out of my house and my mother's dead,
Still her words are all I think about trapped in my head
It didn't matter what anyone said
I sat down in the bathtub, cut my wrists, and bled.

It was those words like bricks smashing into my skull
With those words like fists crushing into my soul
like I couldn't breath I suffocated
By verbal weapons I was exterminated
All I could do was hit the floor
and think about everything 'til I couldn't cry no more

Well my parents tell me that I should try harder
That I should be better, be a lot smarter
When I brought home a "B" - the best I could do
My dad said "Are you gonna be a failure all your life too?"
Nothing I did could be good enough
My passions were nothing, they were just stuff
An "A" was a should-been A-plus
And better SAT scores were a major must
A compliment was a coulda-done-better
A friend? Sit down, do schoolwork, forget her
So I studied hard in how to be a better version of me
Knowing me as myself is a not good enough me

And their words like bricks smash into my skull
with their words like fists crushing into my soul
Like I can't breath I'm suffocating
With verbal weapons They're exterminating
All I can do is hit the flood
And think about everything and cry some more

But We Keep Coming Back For More

2009-09-22T19:48:00.000-07:00

Waves of the ocean tumble over me like waves of the ocean
Crushing 20-foot breakers leaving holes, leaving 20-foot craters
The dangerous surf of emotional games
is a dangerous turf that should never be played
But tell that to any girl in the whole world and she'll laugh in your face through emotional pain
'Cause deny it or not you're like an addict who's just been caught
With a bag of white pills and a razor blade,
a white line on the table and guilt on your face
Like a fat kid caught red handed,
like an anorexic defending when it's demanded
Like a bulimic girl with her finger down her throat
looks up to see her little brother pointing her out to the folks
Like Barry Bonds on steroids claims he doesn't know
Which is like swallow Britney's virginity at 18 years old
Like the fans who think MJ faked his death
Turn reality to fantasy it's for the best
So while waves of emotion tumble over me like waves of the ocean
Crushing 20-foot breakers leaving holes, leaving 20-foot craters

The Flimsy Newfangled Flying Machine That is Me

2009-09-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

So this Friday I'm headed off to college, and like an early pilot testing his flimsy newfangled flying machine at the turn of the 20th century, I guess I'm a little scared I might crash and burn. But on the other hand, do you think the Wright brothers at Kitty Hawk on December 17th, 1903 were more scared, or more excited that they were about to change the world and take flight? I guess that's how I feel. Maybe I should be more scared, everyone expects me to be, they won't stop asking about it. But I'm just a jumble of scared and excited, fight and flight, adrenaline and lead feet.

There's a part of me that doesn't want to leave where I am. I'm comfortable here, I'm fed, clothed, taken care of, and maybe I'm not particularly excited to leave that comfort zone. There's a part of me that says "I can do it by myself". Like the 3-year-old who says, "Don't help me, i can do it by myself", I'm thinking I don't need anyone anymore, I can get along just fine with what I, and only I, have got.

Another side of me is telling me that since I clearly depend so much on my friends, I can't possibly survive alone. And maybe that's true, but even though I'm physically leaving my friends, I'm not forgetting about them, or not talking to them, or something. I can always write, I can always call, I can always depend on them and they on me. Right?

I don't want to leave my sister. I care about her so much. There's this protective side of me that's saying that leaving is a terrible idea. I don't want to be separated from her. When we were younger people used to ask all the time if we were twins. "No," we'd reply, rolling our eyes, "we're just sisters." But sometimes, as close as we are, and when I see myself reflected in her eyes and vice versa, I'm not so sure. I do not know who I am if I don't have Mary.

But there comes a time when sisters, even those as close as we, have to forge their own identities I guess. I guess that time is now.

So excited, scared, sad, unsure, nervous, joyful, confident, I am all of these things. At once. Tell me that's not confusing.

Okay So You Don't Have To Save Humanity, Maybe a Little Love Will Do?

2009-09-15T00:21:00.001-07:00

God asks us to be like Christ, a guy who died to give people like Hitler and Osama bin Laden and me and you a chance to be saved. He put His head on the chopping block in place of everyone and anyone else's.

Even if you don't sacrifice yourself for the sake of a murderer, or a child molester, do you think you could even look at those people with love, as God does?

Do you think you could see two guys walking down the street holding hands and NOT immediately turn your nose up and think "fags"

Do you think you could look the girl in the eyes sitting in the abortion clinic and not curl your lip thinking "baby killer"? Maybe you could look at her and she would see love in your eyes.

Maybe you could look at that kid with the baggy pants and exposed boxers and NOT think "good for nothin' teenager."

In Matthew 18 Jesus tells a parable about lost sheep. He says in verse 10, "See that you do not look down on one of these little ones...what do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the others and go to look for that one? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he is happier about that one sheep than abut the 99 that did not wander off. In the same way you Father in heaven is not willing that any of of these little ones should be lost."

Maybe we could add "because you do not desire to bring them back" at the end of that. Jesus came to seek and save the lost. We're supposed to do the same, remember?

A Forklift Can't Turn Transformer By Itself, But a Mechanic Could Make it Into One.

2009-09-15T00:12:00.000-07:00

Following up on the idea of being for Christlike, I think it's important to look at the impossible task of conquering human nature and realize you're not supposed to do it by yourself.

I was assigned a summer reading book for college. It's called "The Open Road: The Global Journey of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama". It's an interesting documentary-style piece that talks about the Dalai lama and who he is, both in public and in private. As a Buddhist the Dalai Lama believes that humans have a problem: it isn't war or famine or poverty- those are just symptoms. The source of these symptoms is the disease of human nature. We are our own enemy.

"[A Buddhist] brings all responsibility inward," writes the author, "so as not to waste time blaming people outside himself, but to see how he can understand (and therefore solve) the problem within."

Later he writes, "...in truth the source of all your power, your answers, lies right here, inside yourself."

Self-betterment is a worthy goal, perhaps even an achievable one. People quit smoking, learn new things, become activists, change for the better all the time. But trying to overcome human nature with human nature is futile. God doesn't ask us as Christians to lay down our lives for people we don't like, or for sinners. He's done that Himself already. He does ask us to have the desire to change, to become more like the men and women we should be. And then He promises to be with us every step of the way, guiding, supporting, and transforming us.

The desire to change is pretty important. If you don't want God messing in your life, He won't, I promise. But if you trust Him, He's gonna give you opportunity after opportunity to change and be transformed.

Being Christlike is Like Asking a Forklift to Turn into a Transformer and Save Mankind

2009-09-15T00:04:00.000-07:00

In Philippians chapter 2 verse 5 Paul asks the congregation in Philippi to be like Christ. our lives as Christians are hugely about becoming more Christlike. I don't think very many Christians really understand what that means, let alone take it seriously. It means sacrificing YOUR life and YOUR dreams and living according to someone else's rules and someone else's goals.

Verse 5 says, "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus." That is huge. We're supposed to belike Christ?! God incarnate?! It ought to be impossible. This is a guy who stepped into a courtroom full of murderers, rapists, and evil people and said, "I will take the death penalty for all these people. All of them"

How crazy is that? He died a death in place of really bad people, people he had no reason to even like, peope he should be repulsed by. You know that girl your ex cheated with? You wanna die for her? You know that guy who sexually harassed you in PE? You wanna die for him? How about the guy who broke your leg during a game and ruined your sports scholarship> You feel like dying for that guy? What about that ex best friend who told you she was just using you to get to your boyfriend? The guy who used you for sex and then dropped; the girl who told you you were fat in 7th grade?

If any on of these people were kneeling at the guillotine, would you interrup the execution, run up to the condemned and say "Step away, I'll take your place" ?

What about the Virginia Tech shooter? The pedophile who kidnaps and abuses children? The young parents who, because they couldn't stand their son's crying, abused the two-year-old until he died of internal injuries? What about the terrorists who hijacked four planes on September 11 in 2001?

Would you die for them?

Because the person we're supposed to be like, Jesus, he would. The question isn't really if you think you CAN do that. That part comes later. The question is do you WANT to do that?

Being happy in the Right Now

2009-08-20T22:09:00.000-07:00

Philippians 4:11-12

American society discourages contentment. Instead ads tell you that you won't be happy without a certain hair product, and magazines tell you you'll be beautiful...once you buy a certain make up, and commercials say that your life could be so much better if you shopped at this-and-such a place.

Our society drives us to be "successful". We're told to climb the ladder of success, to make more money, to enjoy a higher and higher standard of living. We're expected to want more and want more and want more after that. The vicious cycle is meant to create an environment of discontent.

Admit it, you've thought that something, material or otherwise, will cause you to finally be happy, or that if some desire, if only fulfilled, would allow you to be content. "I'll be happy once I get that shirt" or "I'll be happy once I get those grades". "I'll be happy when my parents let me get texting" or "I'll be happy once I know where I'm accepted to college" I'm sure some of this sounds familiar.

Contentment isn't something I spend a lot of time thinking about or trying to achieve. A lot (And I mean a LOT) of my high school experience was about getting in and going off to college, not about enjoying the moment. It was always about getting the 'A', and adding to my resume, and improving my test scores.

During my senior year I finally slowed down enough to realize I mas missing the moments I ought to be savoring. I was always on to the next thing and accomplishing the next goal without taking time to be happy with where I was right then. I never said it out loud, but looking back I know I thought I'd be happy as a year older, happier as a senior, happier graduated, happier moved out, happier in college, happier...later.

Paul in Philippians 4 talks a little bit about being content in every situation. He says that he knows what it's like to want for things and he knows what it's like to have everything he wants, but no matter the situation he is content. He's saying that it doesn't matter where you are in your life there's things to be thankful for, reasons to be happy, moments in which to be content. It's not about being happy someday, it's about learning to be content in the right now.

Hebrews 13:5 says "Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have." If Hebrews had been written today the author may have said "Live your life free from the desire for more and be happy with your life right now."

It's not soething to think twice about. Think once, agree, and enjoy. God's given you permission, practically commanded you to be happy, so... remind me why we shouldn't?

You're Using a Power Drill to Mix Red Velvet Cake Batter?

2009-08-16T23:55:00.000-07:00

1 Corinthians 6:12-20

Paul talks about the importance of keeping your body pure. Not for the sake of smelling awesome of having a cavity-free smile, or having good hygiene. He says in verse 13, "The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord." So sinning sexually means you're actually misusing your body, like you read the manual wrong and you look like an idiot when you use your power drill to mix cake batter. It means when you think lustfully or desire someone's body, you are misusing that power drill.

In fact, this power drill belongs to someone else and the red velvet cake you just mixed with it ruined the bit, the mechanishm, and it's splattered with cake batter. Okay, maybe I wore out this metaphor?

Look. The point is that if you're borrowing someone else's property, you better be sure you're using it properly, you'd better treat it with respect and handle it carefully. And you'd better return it in the same condition that you received it in.

In verse 15 Paul says, "Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ himself? Shall I then take the members of Christ and unite them with a prostitute?" Don't think of your body as your own, first of all. Second of all, don't give your borrowed body over to sin. Imagine you're borrowing a man's wife for the weekend. would you have her sleep with another man? No!

God is timeless, he is everywhere at once. That means he's outside of time and he sees us at children, as teens, and as adults at the same time. Instead of a timeline he sees one dot and inside that dot is the entire history of the universe. That means that to God, you're already married. When you kiss or give your body to another person who's not your spouse, you're doing that while married. That's how God sees it. You're married sometime down the road, so don't go giving your body to some other dude, or five other dudes for that matter.

I'm not saying that dating is necessarily bad, or that you're going to hell for kissing someone, or even for having a steamy makeout session. All I'm saying is that you might think twice about doing any of that with some who you don't think you'll be marrying any time soon. It's just something to keep in mind that your body is God's first, and that you might want to read the manual and take care of it with respect.

How you treat yourself sets the standard for others.

Take a Break!

2009-08-11T15:11:00.000-07:00

It certainly would have been nice to take a break, but the counselors were busy. The kitchen staff kids on the other hand were not. I'm not sure I ever actually saw them doing dishes. Strange...anyway. The CITs who moved up this year gave the kitchen kids a hard time because they didn't work as hard this year.

At the end of the week the kitchen staff did their skit and it was a parody of Lonely Island's Like a Boss, with Seth Rogen and Andy Samburg. They replaced "like a boss" with "take a break" and performed it with much hilarity ensuing.

The song included lines like this: "chase some deer (take a break!) go canoeing (take a break!) take a nap (take a break!) hide from John (take a break) it's 3 o'clock (take a break) Dan wakes up (take a break!) eat some gushers (take a break!)

Very funny

Bee Attack at Camp

2009-08-11T14:59:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately for us girls, the sand bees had moved into new holes. Right under the clothes line outside the girl's bathroom. It was hot that day, so naturally everyone had been swimming in the lake. After that, they laid out their towels on and beside the clothesline. Sooo...when they went to pick up their towels later in the evening, the girls discovered in a not so pleasant way that they'd placed their towels over the entrances to a giant bee hive underground. And all the bees inside the beehive were angry that they were trapped inside. Very angry.

Talk about mass chaos.

Kids were running and screaming, bees were everywhere, campers were crying. Tikes. One of my campers was stung and bitten. (Notice the giant biting jaws on that bee above and think about those jaws ripping out chunks of skin. Ow? uh, yeah.) From then on my entire cabin was terrified of bees. I never told them we had a wasps nest directly above our door.

Well, some of the upper staff joined together to create a Bee Eradication Force, and sprayed the entire are for bees, and filled in all the holes, and ran in a panic from any buzzing noises they heard. After an entire day of the BEF eradicating all the bees, the problem was taken care of.

Or so we thought.

A couple days later the power went out. The camp is supplied electricity by an underground power cable. The rangers may not have believed us, but we know it was the bees. Those angry angry bees trapped underground got back at us for spraying them.

Notes from Sam's Messages

2009-08-11T02:12:00.000-07:00

It's really easy to sit back and think you're a Christian, when you're not.

A lot of times, especially in America, kids are raised in the church, or raised to believe in God, and they think they're set. They call themselves born again Christians, and they've heard Bible stories, and they understand "Christian-ese", but that doesn't make you a Christian. You believe in God, that's great, but even the demons believe in God. There's more to it than that.

God doesn't want you to be a person that's just half-hearted. Don't walk the line. At all. Either pick the world or pick God, but pick a side.

Even worse than unbelief is lukewarm-ness, and people who pass themselves off as Christians, but don't truly want to change, or disturb their lifestyle. If your relationship with Christ hasn't changed you, then do you really have a relationship with Jesus Christ, or are you just lukewarm? Because it's one thing to conform to the ways of the world, but quite another to claim Christianity, but appear no different than everyone else. Christians are set apart by God, they're "new creations". So be hot or cold, not lukewarm.

Read in Ephesians 6 about the Armor of God. Now think about it: do we have any of these things ourselves? No, all of this armor, these weapons are from God! We can't save ourselves.

A lot of times it's easy to depend on ourselves, to trust our own judgment, to make our own plans, when really we should be seeking the will of God and asking for his armor, rather than attempting to defend ourselves without it.

Being Salty

2009-08-11T02:07:00.000-07:00

"If you just look like salt, but you're not affecting anyone, you're not salt, you just look like it."

Sam, our missionary at camp this year, talked a little bit about being salt and light on Monday and the part above really stood out to me. I'd never head it put that way before and that's really stuck in my mind.

A lot of the things Sam said made me re-evaluate my walk with God and made me realize that thinking I'm a Christian doesn't make me a Christian.

I was talking about this with Peter too, that you can't just believe parts of the Bible, like the peart where you go to heaven, and ignore the part where it tells you to love your neighbor.

It made me think that a lot of times I just look like salt. I go to church, I'm involved in ministry, I go to youth, but I'm not affecting anyone. I'm not changing lives, I'm not even planting seeds. Most of the time I blend right in with everyone else. And I don't think that's ok anymore.

Sam sort of opened my eyes and shot an arrow right through my heart saying "You just look like salt."

I don't want to settle for just looking like salt anymore.

I'll Say I'll See You Soon

2009-08-09T23:51:00.000-07:00

I think God must've sent you to me
To hold me close and to be what I need
'cause when you look into my eyes I know you understand
and when you put your arms around me it's to hold me up when I can't
When we sat around the fire on the very last night
I put my head against your shoulder and all I could do was to cry
Because you and this camp are my source of light
and I have to leave it all for a land of black night
I spend the rest of the year waiting to come back
and when I see what I'm missing I can't stand to leave all that
So all I can do is cry silently
against the shoulder of the friend who's holding me tightly
and the more you say it's okay the more I think it's not.
Because friends like you aren't the ones I've got
So then Madi comes over and wipes the tears from my face
she has a Bible in her hand and tells me not to be afrai
This girl is 12 years old and she prays over me
Speaking the Word of the Lord like an angel to me
She brushes the hair from my face and you wipe a tear from my nose
and my heart breaks it's so full of more love than you know
So when I say I think God must've sent you to me
I'm serious it's because my prayers have been answered for me
And I'm crying from happiness, I'm crying from love
I'm crying because you're angels sent to me from the God above.
I'm crying because it'll be a year before I see you smile again
and because I only have a few more hours to hug my friends
and I miss you so much, I miss you so much
and I love you so much, I love you so much
So I'll say I'll see you soon, I can't say goodbye
Make me laugh soon or I'll never stop crying.

I'll Be Your Sunshine

2009-07-31T23:11:00.000-07:00

Everyone deserves a little happiness in their life
Everyone needs a ray of sunshine to shine so bright
and you deserve to be happy
deserve to have sunshine
I wanna be that happiness for you
I wanna be that happiness for you

I wanna make you smile
I wanna make you laugh
I wanna give you hope
I'll chase away your sad
I wanna hug you tight
I wanna shine so bright
And when you feel bad in your life
Look at me, look at me, I'll shine so bright
Look at me, look at me, I'll hold you tight
Look at me, look at me, I'll love you right

Everyone deserves a little happiness in their life
needs someone to say "keep battlin' in this fight"
It's too easy to get low
too easy to let go
You need a little sunshine, need a little light
I wanna be that happiness so bright
I wanna be that happiness for you
I wanna be that happiness for you

I wanna make you smile
I wanna make you laugh
I wanna give you hope
I'll chase away your sad
I wanna hug you tight
I wanna shine so bright
And when you feel bad in your life
Look at me, look at me, I'll shine so bright
Look at me, look at me, I'll hold you tight
Look at me, look at me, I'll love you right

I Never Expected This

2009-07-31T23:04:00.000-07:00

I never expected this, I never expected you
I was never s'posed to be scared of losing anyone like you
There was never supposed to be someone that I would have to leave
and how can I take back my heart when you've taken over me?
So I'll say I'm fearless but I do have one fear
and it's the day we'll say the words we're both scared to hear

So we'll make our time last forever
Freeze our oments spent together
We've got three more weeks and a graduation
and three months of a summer vacation
We'll fly far, and we'll fly free
I'll hold you and you'll hold me

Well your dad yells and mine growls constant threats
Your mom smiles and mine cries that I'll have regrets
You werent in their picture of my perfection
You weren't in their plan for my direction
And I'm fearless to the world but I have one fear
and that's the day I can't hold you near

So we'll make our time last forever
We'll freeze our moments spent together
We've got three more weeks and a graduation
and three months of a summer vacation
so we'll fly far, and we'll fly free
and I'll hold you, and you'll hold me

There was never s'posed to be someone that I would have to leave
I would never have had to miss someone who was never close to me
Sometimes when you hold me and you look at me you say
"I just wanna be with you" and I can't tell you to leave me someday
So I can't say I'm fearless 'cause sometimes I'm scared
of that day we'll both find out just how much I care

We have to make our time last forever
And freeze our moments spent together
We've got three more weeks and a graduation
and three months of a summer vacation
and we'll fly far, and we'll fly free
Oh I'll hold you, and you'll hold me...

Until You Can Quit It

2009-07-31T22:57:00.000-07:00

17 May 2009

You say you wanted me to be your everything
That it was more than just a one night fligh
and when I told you no you thought you'd be fine
and then it hit you hard one more time
That it was not, not anybody else you wanted,
You called me up to say you thought it could work

But I say
Lose the bottle and lose the booze
'cause it's a game you always lose
Don't tell me that I'm all you want
When every weekend you're out downing shots

You let that drink control you
And I'm not about to hold you
When you've got one hand in mine
and the other on the drink that's one your mind
So until you can quit it
you can just forget it

I break my heart saying it was just a one night fling
You don't want me to be your everything
And I can't see your eyes but I can hear it in your voice
That I've hurt you a lot and you don't wanna make this choice
So I let you off the hook and I say we could never work
and the pain of breaking won't add up to the reward it's worth

So I just say
You couldn't lose the bottle or lose the booze
"cause that's a game you'll always lose
Don't tell me I'm all you want
When every weekend you're out downing shots
You'll let that drink control you
and I'm not about to hold you
When you've got one hand in mine
and the other on the drink that's on your mind
So because you can't quit it
You can just forget it

"You're Supposed to Feel Alone"

2009-07-31T22:44:00.000-07:00

I tried to tell you once, I tried to tell you twice
I cried to you all flipping night
I said "hey mom and dad, I feel like a stranger
and I hate you a lot with all of this anger
but it makes me sad to feel so alone
I don't wanna hate you anymore, I just wanna come home"

I was cryin out to you with arms outstretched
"Won't you love me again?" and my tears confessed
that for the first time I wasn't tellin' you a lie
But you just looked at me so cold
And told me I was s'posed to feel alone
I just don't understand
I said "love me!" but you can't?

I said I didn't trust you so I'd kept to myself
every secret I had, every feeling I'd felt
I said "hey mom and dad I feel like a stranger
but I don't wanna hate you anymore with all of this anger"
But you looked in my eyes and you raised your hands
and you yelled in my face "I don't give a damn"

I was cryin' out to you with arms outstretched
"Won't you love me again?" and my tears confessed
that for the first time I wasn't tellin' you a lie
But you just looked at me so cold
And told me I was s'posed to feel alone
I just don't understand
I said "love me!" but you can't?

I told you you were emotionally unavailable
but your hard hearts made you totally unassailable
and there I was, snigging and crying and pouring out my hear
and you took the opportunity to tear me apart.
So in my own family I'll keep feelin' like a stranger
And I'll pretend I'm fine and keep hidin' my anger

I was cryin' out to you with arms outstretched
"Won't you love me again?" and my tears confessed
that for the first time I wasn't tellin' you a lie
But you just looked at me so cold
And told me I was s'posed to feel alone
I just don't understand
I said "love me!" but you can't?

I told you how I felt really sad and alone
and you took the opportunity to have me Biblically stoned?
So screw you, you don't wanna be my parents? Then don't.
But don't look to me when you're old and alone.
You'll say to me "we gave you everything, how could we know?"
But you knew you were holding back what I needed most
And when I came to you in honesty looking for love
You said I didn't need it, what I had was enough.
I was confused and you made me feel ashamed
But I shouldn't have hoped you could possibly change.
So please please please now that I know where you stand
Stay away from me until you give a damn.

I wrote this after a fight I had with my parents. I was so, so upset by what they had said to me. I was so hurt, and whether they'd meant to make me feel this way or not, the message I got was that they didn't want to parent me and that I didn't need their love. Try swallowing that after you sob to them for an hour and a half about how you feel alone without them.

I Think That You Should Know

2009-03-12T18:13:00.000-07:00

03.08.29

So I have trust issues, so I'm afraid of being close
There are reasons for these walls and I think that you should know
That I'm worth having, but you don't get me for free
and I'm beggin' you to chase me, but I won't be cheap
'Cause I'm not afraid of sayin' that you scare me shitless
So prove to me I won't regret this
I might get scared and try to run
i might be hesitant but don't give up
If I get scared try to understand
that all you need to do is hold my hand
I need someone who's gonna hold me tight
who won't let go of me through the night
'Cause I put up all these walls to protect my heart
and it won't be easy to take 'em apart
I've become so scared of bein' hurt
that reaching out is hard, you'll have to do it first
But please do do it before my feet start to run
and a heart attack kills me and I have to be done
I have trust issues and I'm afraid of bein' close
There're reasons for those walls, butt I think that you should know
that I couldn't want somethin more
Than somethin' I can't hope for

You Know I'm Scared, Right?

2009-03-12T18:11:00.002-07:00

Once upon a time I thought I'd be okay
Thought the dreams about him would go away
Once upon a time I thought my heart was whole
But there are pieces missing and I'm alone
Months pass by and I watch them go
I finally give up 'cause you can't kill ghosts

It's been a long time since I felt this way
It's been a long time since caring made me feel afraid
And I'm so scared of you
'Cause when I care
My heart goes with you when you walk away
(and they always walk away)

Tired of feelin' sorry and of feelin' sayd
Gotta move on and quit feelin' this bad
tired of bein' lonely and waitin' around
I'm tired of bein lost, I wanna be found
So I'll open up a little and tear down some walls
It's like jumpin' off a cliff hopin' someone'll catch your fall

It's been a long time since I felt this way

It's been a long time since caring made me feel afraid

And I'm so scared of you

'Cause when I care

My heart goes with you when you walk away

(and they always walk away)

That's why I'm scared, that's why I'm afraid
I'm not sure if I could bear to lose what I'd gain
The hard part isn't givin' my heart away
It's puttin' it back into my chest when you give it back someday

It's been a long time since I felt this way

It's been a long time since caring made me feel afraid

And I'm so scared of you

'Cause when I care

My heart goes with you when you walk away

(and they always walk away)

Just Go Away

2009-03-12T18:11:00.001-07:00

I tried to wait, I really did
I waited all last year through chem
I though I'd learned, I really did
But I just felt disappointed
Over once, over again
Finally gave up and now I just pretend
I just don't know how you can't see
And I've say around enough waiting
You know I wish I could just walk away
But I can't seem to change my ways
And I can't think how to save
The heart you hold that I once gave
So I guess we'll play the game
Where i pretend that nothing's changed
So we'll just see how far it goes
I'm putting on quite a show
Ad faking that I don't care
Is not as hard as knowing you really don't care
And what's even worse is that it went so far
and now i just feel stupid

It Was You Who Helped Me Go

2009-03-12T18:10:00.001-07:00

I've been sittin' here so long
Tryin' to write you a song
That could maybe explain
The difference you've made

You were the hands to pull me up
The arms to hug me close
You let me learn to trust
When my heart had turned so cold
When I had nowhere to turn
You were there to catch my fall
When there were lessons to be learned
You were there through it all
If I didn't know what to do
I would come to you
And you would remind me of the road
That I was s'posed to be on

You really changed my life
and I think that you should know
That when I spread my wings to fly
It was you who helped me go

There is No Happily Ever After

2009-03-12T18:09:00.001-07:00

When Aaron was younger,
he's always been smaller,
He was just like you or me
what his parents told him to be
People sometimes said he didn't smile much
Sometimes they said he didn't laugh enough
When it came time to go, nobody knew why,
Little Aaron might suddenly have a tear in his eye
But he took his daddy's hand and he went away
With that awful look on his face every single day

We didn't know that when we let him go
Aaron's daddy would take him home
And beat his little body with his bare fists
And shout into his face with his flying spit
We didn't know that Aaron had broken bones
had a broken spirit and felt all alone
Sometimes he didn't want to sit in his chair
because his mommy had spanked him 'til it was purple back there

One day Aaron told my mom and dad everything
He didn't cry when he showed the ugly blue-black rings
Left by his daddy's heavy fists
Left by his mommy's anger fits
I took Aaron's hand and I held it tight
I told him I thought everything would be alright
But Aaron didn't move, he just sat like a stone
For and hour and a half he stayed so cold
And just as he began to lift
One corner of his frowning granite lips

Aaron's daddy stepped right through the front door
As me and limp Aaron sank to the floor
I told him that I wouldn't let go
But Aaron's eyes stayed dead, his mouth in an "O"
His daddy took his shirt and dragged him and me
'Cause I couldn't let go after promising
My head hit the door frame, I didn't mean to lose my grip
The last thing I saw were Aaron's reaching fingertips
His daddy put him in the car and and they drove away
And I haven't seen Aaron since that day

Now Aaron spends his days in an empty cell
It used to be his bedroom, now an echoing shell
Sometime his mommy brings him food and he eats off the floor
I don't know how much they let him outdoors
Sometimes I sit outside his window and let myself cry
All the tears Aaron doesn't and wonder why
Who would want to hurt such a beautiful boy?
Who would dare to abuse him like some cheap toy?
And I cry for Aaron, I cry 'cause he won't
As he sits in the dark, hurt and alone

Why Don't I Hate it Here?

2009-03-12T18:07:00.000-07:00

I don't wanna go, but I wanna move on
I don't wanna cry but these tears still come
And I hate it here, so just tell me why
I can't stand to leave so I stand and cry
This place, it took me so far away
From everything I knew in just one day
With all I've been through how can I say
I don't hate it here, when did that change?

Well it's you, you've made this place my home
It's you, you told me I could own
My future and my life, through God and Jesus Christ
So thank you, thank you for my life
Just thank you, thank you for these eyes
So I can see the light of this brand new sun rise
It's you, who had the love to say
That everything would work out okay
So from me to you, just thank you

When I had to leave I though my life was over
from everything I knew to trying to start over
When you're hurt that bad it's hard to stay
To just hang on to each new lifeless day
This place, it took me so far away
From everything I knew in just one day
With all I've been through how can I say
I don't hate it here, when did that change?

Well it's you, you've made this place my home
It's you, you told me I could own
My future and my life, through God and Jesus Christ
So thank you, thank you for my life
Just thank you, thank you for these eyes
So I can see the light of this brand new sun rise
It's you, who had the love to say
That everything would work out okay
So from me to you, just thank you

When you're in the dark, there is nothing else
You feel so alone and all by yourself
There's no one to turn to, there's nowhere to run
You hurt so much you just wanna be done
This place it took me so far away
From everything I knew in just one day
With all I've been through how can I say
I don't hate it here, When did that change?

Well it's you, you've made this place my home
It's you, you told me I could own
My future and my life, through God and Jesus Christ
So thank you, thank you for my life
Just thank you, thank you for these eyes
So I can see the light of this brand new sun rise
It's you, who had the love to say
That everything would work out okay
So from me to you, just thank you

I don't want to leave, but I know I'll survive
Moving out, moving forward, to a new life
Now as I look back never thought I'd regret
Leaving the place of so much regret
And this place it took me so far away
From everything I knew in just one day
With all I've been through how can I say
I don't hate it here, when did that change?

Well it's you, you've made this place my home
It's you, you told me I could own
My future and my life, through God and Jesus Christ
So thank you, thank you for my life
Just thank you, thank you for these eyes
So I can see the light of this brand new sun rise
It's you, who had the love to say
That everything would work out okay
So from me to you, just thank you

I'm Eighteen and I'm Not a Legal Adult?

2009-01-12T18:47:00.000-08:00

From the December issue of The Brand

Having just celebrated my eighteenth birthday, I am enjoying my status as a legal adult. I no

longer have to worry about Winnemucca’s curfew, I’ve received several calls from military recruiters, and I had the privilege of voting in the presidential election as well; I even emporarily considered moving out just because I could, but concluded a few minutes later that I enjoy the bed and the free food far too much to move out. However, going over my new rights as a legal adult, I realized that I still must wait to receive the full extent of my rights as an American citizen; for some reason I will be denied the right to drink an alcoholic beverage for another three years.

Honestly, I have been unable to uncover a legitimate argument against 18- year-olds drinking alcohol that cannot be easily dismissed. Some have told me that they think it’s a health risk or a safety hazard to 18-year-olds or those around them. But come on, 18-yearolds are permitted to buy and smoke cigarettes, which is not only dangerous to one’s own health, but endangers others as well. Smoking and the second- hand smoke it produces have been linked to such killers as cancer, heart disease, and emphysema. On the other hand, numerous studies have suggested that drinking alcohol in moderation can actually benefit your health. In fact, the Mayo Clinic advises that a moderate alcohol intake of two drinks a day can reduce your risk of heart attack and heart disease, diabetes, and stroke.

What safety hazards does drinking alcohol present specifically to my 18- year-old self that don’t equally apply to my 21-year-old brother? Yes, drinking a bottle of Russian vodka and then driving home, poses a significant health risk both to the drunk driver and others on the road, but is a drunk driver any less drunk on his 21st birthday than his 18th?

Drinking a piña colada doesn’t pose nearly the health risk signing up for the Army might. It’s an honor to have the right to fight and die for our country; it’s a heavy responsibility to be able to influence the future of the world by voting; but for some reason 18-yearolds aren’t equipped with the ability to drink safely or responsibly. If I’m mature enough to be handed an automatic weapon and shipped off to a foreign country to kill the enemies of America, how can I not be mature or responsible enough to drink?

Quantum of Solace

2009-01-12T17:41:00.000-08:00

I wrote this review for The Brand, my school's newspaper.

Tuxedos, martinis, and golden guns belong to the world of the dashing James Bond we know and love.

This is not classic Bond.

Connery, Moore, and Brosnan were suave and gentlemanly, and notoriously womanizing; Daniel Craig’s Bond is a rough and rugged representation of the MI6 agent before he became charming or conceived of his infamous “Bond, James Bond” line. A gritty backdrop and a bitter, brooding Bond allow the audience to glimpse the darker side of the British secret agent we once thought we knew. Although I once had misgivings about Craig’s being cast, his performance in “Casino Royale” last year and now “Quantum” have proven him worthy of this newly renovated Bond.

“Quantum of Solace” opens mere moments after “Casino” leaves off. Bond had been enamored with lover Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), who then betrayed her agent boyfriend and committed suicide in front of him by drowning herself. Filled with searing rage at Vesper’s betrayal, but also deeply troubled by his true love’s death, Bond is now smitten with sweet Revenge. Driven by his anger, Bond sets out to get even with the crooks responsible for Vesper’s betrayal and death, and he’ll kill anyone stupid enough to get in his way. Judi Dench plays “M”, Bond’s sensible boss, who finds it increasingly difficult to control an agent who has suddenly and violently turned rogue.

Naturally, Bond’s vengeance is served quite nobly in the end, and naturally his wrath is appeased after shooting, throttling, and killing as many thugs as he can. Just as naturally Bond meets mysterious and angst-filled Russian beauty, Camille (Olga Kurylenko), whom he can’t fall in love with because of Vesper- baggage, but must aid anyway because she’s a damsel in distress out for the same revenge Bond is looking for.

Although “Quantum” has been critically acclaimed for being action packed and “gritty” and “raw”, I find myself missing the old Bond a bit, with his “Bond, James Bond” and his famous martini, shaken not stirred, which have been noticeably absent from the new films. “Quantum” does provide a second look at the womanizing James Bond of previous films, allowing a more real, more human James Bond to emerge. Craig’s performances have truly been top-notch, as he exhibits his expansive range of talent. Whether he’s being angry and smoldering, or seductively chivalrous, or killing someone in cold blood, Craig can pull it off.

In fact, Craig’s emotional Bond proves the most interesting aspect of “Quantum” as the story, which centers around a political message, never gets better than boring. But seriously, it has a boat chase, a car chase, evil villains, sultry women, fancy cars, big explosions, and a good-lookin’ hero- what more could you want from James Bond?

2008-11-23T20:21:00.000-08:00

Nicaragua

2008-11-23T20:05:00.000-08:00

For all of you wondering about my trip to Nicaragua:

My trip to Nicaragua was incredible. My dad and I drove five hours from Winnemucca to Salt Lake City and then flew out the following morning to Atlanta. We were supposed to fly out from Houston, but because of Hurricane Ike, all flights from Houston were on permanent hold. We met up with a few other team members in Atlanta and then we all flew out together to Managua, the capital of Nicaragua. We stayed in a Best Western there with our whole team and commuted on our bus each day to the little village of Los Brasiles.

We saw about 1,400 people at our clinic over about four or five days. We had a team of around 20 people and then each person had a translator. We were set up in a school so each "clinic" was inside a room of the school. Patients went first to a pastor's station where each and every one of them heard the gospel. Then they went to the nurse's station where they were sorted to whichever clinic they wanted to go to. We had an eyeglasses clinic, a gynocology clinic, a pediatrics/kids clinic, a general med clinic, a dental clinic with cleanings, fillings, and extractions, and even a mobile surgery unit, which was basically a top-rate RV revamped with an OR inside, for minor surgeries. After patients visited with a doctor they were given a "prescription" which they could take to the pharmacy. We had a ton of medications, but of course we were mostly distributing things like tylenol, antiparasitics, antibiotics, cough medicine, vitamins, and other basic medications. In addition to the clinic, our team also held a vacation Bible school for kids and a week-long workshop for about fifteen local pastors and their wives.

I worked mostly in the dental clinic, holding flashlights as lights for fillings and prepping syringes and trays for the dentists. Let me just tell you that extractions are not at all fun to watch. I also got to observe a minor surgery, which was pretty interesting. I worked with the kids quite a bit, in and out of the VBS. They really liked having their picture taken and then seeing themselves on the camera's screen. Our team also split up sometimes to do "house calls" to bring medical attention to the few people who were too sick or too handicapped to make it to the clinic. Unfortunately, if they were too sick come a short ways to the clinic, they were usually too sick for us to help them in any substantial way. My dad and I went on a couple of house calls, but we weren't able to really provide any medical aid so much as spiritual support.

At one particular home, where a family of eleven lived, we saw several patients. The grandmother had had hip surgery a few years ago, but her hip hadn't healed correctly and as a result she could no longer walk without excruciating pain. We provided the woman with some painkillers, but could do nothing for her legs, even though she pleaded with us to give a medication that would let her walk again. Her son had been an alcoholic for most of his life and had probably been sick for a long time. By examining him we discovered that his liver and kidney failure was pretty advanced; we gave him some medication for pain, but his condition is fatal. The last family member we saw was the sixteen-year-old granddaughter who was pregnant out of wedlock. The girl had a minor rash, so my dad gave her a cream that would take care of it. Just by chance (or maybe it was a God thing?) my dad had happened to bring his fetal Doppler heart tone monitor. When that girl heard her baby's heartbeat for the first time...it was so amazing. Our translator was just as moved as he said "There is life!"

By Saturday we had packed up the temporary clinic, but we planned to make a quick stop at the dump, which is pretty much acres and acres of trash. For as far as you can see, it's just mountains of trash in all directions. The worst part isn't the garbage, it's the thousands of people who live inside the dump, collecting and selling recyclables because they have no other way to survive. We had thought Los Brasiles was poor, but the dump community was the definition of abject poverty. These people had made their homes out of trash and scraps from the dump. It was especially sad to see barefoot kids, clothed in rags, collecting trash for their families.

We left on Sunday, from Managua to Atlanta to Salt Lake again. Unfortunately, our luggage was lost because we switched flights, but it was delivered to our home Monday morning. The five hour drive back from Salt Lake Sunday night was a time for reflection and digestion of all that we'd seen and experienced. I went to school the next day and my dad returned to work and even though it seems like our routines haven't changed, I know neither one of us will ever be the same.

Coming back to the States after a trip like this is difficult. To see the opportunities and freedoms and luxuries we as Americans are afforded is astounding. In a few days you'll sit down to a huge thanksgiving meal, and as you do that remember what God has given you and really really thank Him for that. And please say a prayer for the Nicaraguans in Los Brasiles and in the dump, that God would bless them and take care of them and that they would come to know him. This account has taken me numerous sit-downs to write, so I apologize that it's taken me so long. And this isn't even the whole story. It's so hard to put into words the sights and sounds and tastes of Nicaragua, the poverty, the pollution, the people. But this is the best I can do.

Thanks so much for your prayers and support,

Katy

Niceragua

2008-08-17T17:02:00.000-07:00

My dad and I leave for Nicaragua September 13. Keep us in prayer...

Forever is a Long, Long Time

2008-08-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

And I haven't written in forever. But here I am, writing again. When life gets busy and full, it's hard to try to justify putting my thoughts into cyberspace. Anyway, I just got back from CAMA Camp and it was amazing as usual. But Camp this year was more than "usual". I met a lot of new people and I'm beginning to realize that even though I only see these people once a year at this camp, I think they're going to be my life-long friends. I mean, I think it's these people who are going to be the ones I can turn to in times of trouble.

So Camp is physically exhausting, you know, but more than that, it's like standing under the Niagra Falls of God and Jesus and faith and Christianity and spiritual warfare and worship and yeah. It's an incredible sensation to be totally immersed in God and in the Word for an entire week. And I feel my faith being built and I feel God tugging on my heart and I can hear His voice again and what a joy that is. To have gone so long without thinking about what God wanted for me- that was just wrong. But I'm back on the path now. I'm picking my way along the straight and narrow and I'm setting out, I'm resolving, I'm vowing to use this next year to become more like the woman God wants me to be. I'm going to be growing a lot this year. I think God is really going to be stretching me and I'm going to try to really read my Bible everyday and dig in to the Word and I'm going to relinquish control. I don't know if you know how hard that will be for me, so let me explain. I'm a little OCD, I guess, and I'm a very controlling person. I like to have control of my life. I need to have control of my life, but I can't do it anymore, it's just too much weight, too much for me to carry on my own, so God is gonna have to help me from now on, because I have to give it up. There's this Hillsong song that the speaker at camp played one night and it goes "Bring me to my knees, Lord I lay me down, rid me of myself, I belong to you" And that's so true for me.

Here's a shout-out to John and Keshia, Dan and Mel, Damaris and Hannah, Connor and Lace. Love you guys.

THAT girl

2008-04-03T19:50:00.000-07:00

I don't really know why, but for some reason I'm not "That" girl. I'm not the girl guys seem to ask to lunch or dinner or dances. And for a while I struggled with that, wondering "what's wrong with me? why am I so undesirable?" But the thing is, as far as I can figure, I wouldn't really want to be That girl anyway. Being That girl means I have to be someone I'm not, and I know that there are certain, great qualities about me that prevent me from being Her. And I think that's a good thing. I don't want to be someone else; I don't want to be That girl; I just want to be me.