funny.every.time

This poor girl. I just keep watching it, and laughing harder every time. It's pretty boring to begin with, but trust me, stick with it or skip through the first minute. Either way, it's worth it in the end!

thorns

She is only six years old, and the term "tough cookie" doesn't even begin to described her.

She carries her burdens alone.

After just a glimmer of venerability, her walls come up. Impenetrable. She is a prisoner of her own fortress. I have no doubt she wants to escape, but she's too scared.

"Have you ever had a splinter?" I ask, and she nods yes. "When I was a little boy," I tell her, "there were thorn trees all around my house and in the yard where I'd play."

She leans forward a listens with the interest most children have when adults speak of their own childhood.

"Every now and then, I'd fall onto a thorn. Huge thorns. Sometimes I'd even step on them." Her eyes grow big, as though surprised I survived such an ordeal. "Well," I continue, "one day I fell onto a thorn this big," as I gesture a sightly exaggerrated length, "and it poked right into my knee!"

Her eyes widen even more. "Ouch!" she says.

"Yes! Ouch, indeed!" I reply, "And do you know what? I was so frightened to show my parents. I just knew it would hurt if they removed the thorn from my knee. So I kept it hidden, and it became more and more sore."

"What happened?" she asks, fully engrossed into the tale.

"Finally I just had to show parents the thorn because it hurt so badly. They needed to remove it, and I was so scared it was going to hurt. And guess what... it did hurt. It hurt a lot. But after the thorn was out, it began to heal and eventually it didn't hurt as much. I still have a scar on my knee from the thorn, but it doesn't even hurt at all now."

"Oh," she says, "I had a splinter in my finger once and my mom had to squeeze it out and I cried a lot." "Wow! Does it still hurt?" I ask. "Nope, it was a long time ago and it got better! I doesn't hurt anymore."

And now, unsure of her ability to comprehend, I tell her that emotions are similar. Getting them out is painful. And the pain doesn't go away right afterwards, either. But the wound does begin to heal, and eventually the pain fades. There might be a scar left behind that reminds us about when we got the splinter, and that's normal, but it doesn't hurt like it used to.

"Do you understand?" I ask. She nods her head and says, "Uh huh." "Good!" I encourage her, "Now let's make sure your momma understands it, okay? I'll help you out."

Excited to teach her mother something, she says, "Feelings are like when I got that splinter that one time. It really hurt when you took it out, but then it started getting better."

"And how else is that like feelings?" I ask.

"Um..." she smiles shyly, "maybe if I talk about stuff to my mom I could feel better and not be sad?"

Her walls are still impenetrable. But with some time, a little encouragement, and a lot of prayer, I think she may begin to understand she doesn't have to be a prisoner in her own fortress. One day, she'll allow that thorn to be removed from her knee.

And it's going to hurt, but healing will follow.

"What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Snapshot: 021813 1534 PST

Finally, after three years.

Ruby's. 

Oceanside Pier.

Upper balcony seating.

Incredible view of the coast.

And the food was pretty good, too.

what (not) to wear

what NOT to wear

- the old self and it's early ways

"Put to death therefore what is earthly in you... put off the old self with its practices..." Col 3:5-9

what TO wear

- the new self in the image of God

"... put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator..." Col 3:10

you've GOT to share

- do everything for God's glory

"... do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus..." Col 3:17

"The best way out is always through." -Robert Frost

Snapshot: 021113 1900 PST

Sunset at Oceanside.
With my wife.

Peaceful. Lovely.

"The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge."

Psalm 19:1-2

rest

Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him.
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.

-Psalm 62:1, 5

busted

Not exactly having the best week... 

I haven't slept in over 36 hours, and to top things off, I accidentally busted our bedroom window this morning. 

But the good news is, our rental management is going to replace the glass at no-charge. 

The bad news is, they're coming to fix it when I get home from work in the morning, prolonging, yet again, my much needed sleep. 

Lots of work to do for school, but I'm feeling too loopy from being tired to really focus. 

And I haven't just blown my diet healthy lifestyle, I've totally busted that, too. Obliterated by bingeing on brown sugar rolled up into warm tortillas and peanut butter pretzels. Random, I know.

My left eye has been twitching, an annoying symptom of when I'm overstressed, and those pity-poor-me thoughts of worthlessness have been trying to creep up on me. 

I think a lot of these emotions have been triggered by the abundance of schoolwork I have ahead of me... and behind me, as I've fallen a bit behind and can't seem to catch up. I spend more time and energy stressing about assignments than actually completing them. My 4.0 GPA? Pretty sure that's going to get busted this semester.

So far, I've had two practicum interviews and both went well. There is one site in particular I'm hoping to get, and I'm feeling pretty confident that the spot is mine, but all the waiting and unknown is killing me. Whatever site I get will greatly influence my life over the next year (schedule, etc.), and I can't start preparing myself for those changes until I know what they're going to be.

My window is busted. My weight loss. My GPA. Me. My patience. My heart. My mind. Busted. 

Just a little busted, I know. I know it's all repairable and it's going to get better soon. Except for the window. That needs replaced. But everything else is temporarily. God is good and mends all things. 

But right now I'm looking through a busted window. And it's hard to see past the cracks.

MOG 020113

Overwhelmed.
Maybe a twinge depressed.

But definitely overwhelmed.