Further documentation.

Let it always be known that I was who I am.

Sarah and Emily went on an adventure this evening. They dressed themselves in black and made masks out of paper bags from Trader Joe's (just being _____ conscious!). They wore pins in their hair and enjoyed each other's company. The tiny apple pie was never consumed, but apple cider proved a satisfactory choice.

Sarah and Emily are excited to learn and grow together.

Two months passed.

Junji Kurokawa/AP

A Japanese soldier walks through a flooded path in a port area in Kesennuma, May 11, 2011.

Thanks for the encouragement, dear.

"There's a difference between a failure and a fiasco. A failure is merely the absence of success. Any fool can achieve failure. But a fiasco, a fiasco is a disaster of epic proportions. A fiasco is a tale told to make other people feel more alive because it didn't happen to them."


-Elizabethtown

Today I read this poem.

Today was like sweet vacation nectar and, oh, every drop was savored. Cass and I rolled out of bed and went to the beach with her lovely mother. We ran a bit but mostly enjoyed the time before making a quick stop at the weight room and proceeding to the pool. I learned to do laps and sat in the jacuzzi and laid carelessly in the sun. I burned. I love it. We bought burritos and watched two and half episodes of Law and Order. We bought coffee and ate spaghetti and almost did Yoga. God has blessed me with a day of rest and I am working to remain fully in that rest. Rest in who He is and in who He created me to be.

And today I read this poem:

You Are Tired (I Think) by e.e. cummings

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

- e.e. cummings

Return, O my soul, to your rest

I really don't like the title to my last blog. I couldn't think of an appropriate title and I read that line in a book. Doesn't it seem like it is trying too hard? Who knows what I'll title this puppy - hopefully it'll be something a little less predictable.

This morning I went on a run near Sass' father's place. It was a path that overlooks a canyon and feels pretty desert-y. In fact, I only got a couple minutes into it before I stopped because I could hear a rattling over John Foreman's sweet singing in my ear bug. As in snakes. As in snakes that rattle and are called rattlesnakes. I mean, truly, it isn't a big deal. Rattle snakes exist in this part of the world, especially in a city protected habitat (think the "wetlands" in east Gresham surrounded by suburban homes) and are a part of everyday life. Of course, that doesn't mean that every time I heard a rattling I didn't whip my head in the direction of the soft and slithery din and pick up my pace. One wonderful part of my little adventure, however, was coming to a high point in the path where I could overlook the canyon. It was absolutely beautiful in a small and unexpected way.

And now, I am sitting on a back porch that overlooks said canyon from a different angle. It is welcoming from this lower, less threatening perspective and I am rather partial to the clear blue of the sky and the duller green of the canyon. It is a different beauty. Beauty changes, doesn't it? Finch is across the world experiencing the beauty that man created and appreciating the rolling of a river that is beautiful mostly because of the experiences it has had: how many have joined in its current in search of success, new life, love, fortune, war. We read about people in history books but they are not people unless we pluck them from our minds and from the prison of words on a page and deposit them in a certain place under a certain occupation with certain hopes and dreams and values. Oh, drink it in!

I looked in my journaling Bible for scripture pertaining to "rest". I was inspired by a hymn written in 1876. The words were written by Jean Pigott and they resonate clearly and loudly in my soul.

Jesus, I am resting, resting,

In the joy of what Thou art;

I am finding out the greatness

Of Thy loving heart.

Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,

And Thy beauty fills my soul,

For by Thy transforming power,

Thou hast made me whole.

I also read Hebrews 4:1-13. I felt understood for the first time in a long time this morning. I think it was the lack of "go, go, go, be, be, be, fix, fix, FIX!" that has echoed in my mind for weeks and weeks.

So, after an easy, unhurried morning of sleep, exercise, food, Jesus and (finally) a shower, I find it is afternoon and time for a jab at some homework. Cass will return soon and I will see more of her world this evening.

And bursting forth, a light so pure...

  In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ²He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. ⁴ In him was life, and the life was the light of men. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it


John 1:1-6