Saturday, September 25, 2010

secret heart

this afternoon was spent in solitude.
in my time of resting i discovered the strangest thing once again.
the desire to create. this time, not with words or paper or colors, but with flour and vegetables and milk and eggs and all those wonderful things that you can mix together to make something delicious.
as a budding young girl, the kitchen never was my forte. everything i tried almost always failed, and everything i wanted to do my mom could still do better. she was (and still is) my food idol. she can make anything and it always tastes good. but it wasn't even just about the food, it was about what she created for us. for her family. she was nourishing us with her love, her care, her gifts. i want to do that. i feel like i attach the same kind of significance to my own culinary creations. when i make something, it is to nourish.
it's amazing (and you'd be surprised) how one person can pour a lot of their soul into one pot of soup or one batch of cinnamon buns.
it's funny too, when i get an idea in my head i just have to create that very thing. and i'll be mighty distracted with it until it comes to life. today it was cream of potato soup and buns (my mom's recipe).
when i was baking the buns, i realized i forgot to put the eggs in. i hurriedly folded them into my dough, cringing. fahlman, you have to pay attention more. typical.
but, not losing heart after my bun disaster, i decided to try the soup. with no recipe but a lot of ideas whirling around in my little brain, i set to work.
now, a couple hours and a few setbacks later, i am savoring my creations. fresh buns (not as fluffy as i would have liked) and warm, creamy, chunky potato bacon soup. i created these things. and there really is no feeling like it.
i must admit that i wish there was someone here. this great moment needs to be shared. i want to feed someone. but i suppose it's just as sweet knowing that i CAN do this. it has moved from the realm of great possibilities to a satisfying reality. perhaps one day, like my mama, i can nourish and love people through this creating.

strong love

i look out the window
the birds are composing
not a note is out of tune or out of place
i walk to the window and stare at the flowers
better dressed than any girl on her wedding day
why do i worry?
why do i freak out?
god knows what i need
you know what i need

[jon foreman]

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

transit

today i saw so many souls.
people lost in their thoughts; people lost.
give me your eyes for just one second. can i see what you see?
what would they look like if they knew you?
do i look any different?

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

outside-in

jesus, you're here aren't you?
something big is happening.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

senior

so. thoughts.
even though the school of education has a 5 year program, i have begun cutting my ties with this university as I begin my fourth and senior year.
but believe-you-me, it is not an easy thing. i love being here. i love the people here, i love praise chapel on fridays, i love mass at the cottage, and mom hugs from diane. i like the dorms and apartments and even the cafeteria. i love the profs and the pond and the smell of the library. i love the banana challenge, rob rhea, and those banner things that tell us what the theme for the year is. i love the classes, the discussions, and even the papers because they help me grow. i know stuff not just in my brain but in my soul. i love this school.
it's weird walking to class and thinking "this may be the last time i will see this prof" or "this is the last time i will buy textbooks in september". it is crazy going to mattson and thinking "there are a limited number of months left in which you can take my money", or walking through campus on o-day, wondering to myself "was it just four years ago that i was shaking in my boots, clutching on to my RA, trying to figure out where i was supposed to be"?
there are a few things i'll be grateful to be done with, of course; packing for one. do you know how difficult it is to put everything into a minuscule amount of boxes, shove them into a small storage area, and then leave all of your belongings whilst you fly to another province? i nearly have anxiety attacks all summer wondering if some eager student is going to get to the storage room before me in the fall, see all my great stuff, and decide that although it is profusely labelled with my name, various items from my boxes would be much better in their possession than mine?? i'm sure that's happened...at some point...most likely.
anyway, i'm just sitting here reminiscing and dreaming and thinking and wondering. and i know school has barely started and i've had a grand total of one class as a senior student, but good heavens people. this is my last year of college (almost) and i'm 23 years old (almost) and there are so many wonderful and terrifying things around each and every corner of this year and the next year and the next year and the next year. there will be a lot of sad goodbyes but probably some really joyful hellos too. oh fourth year, you came sooner than i was anticipating.
anyway. it's past my bedtime and sheesh i'm a senior.
goodnight.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

luck

a great deal of things have led up to this moment. some may call it fate i suppose. i'm not sure what it is, but i'm going to tell you about it.
recently, b-rad and i have been talking about living in the moment, being grateful for the present time, and not always wishing that something else were happening at some other time. we've also been discussing the freedom of detatchment from material things. it's all a part of not worrying about tomorrow, kind of like the sparrows that luke talks about in his gospel. now is the time. and so, this is the beginning of my story, but strangely also the ending.
but not yet. there's more. i recently had the pleasure of spending time with a delightful irishman. this led my roommate and i to explore our skills of using the irish dialect in our own home. last night we talked irish and played cribbage and laughed in irish, told irish jokes, and that night i dreamed in irish and in the morning my thoughts were irish too.
today, as i was reclining on our new furniture, my cellphone fell into my cup of tea. in spite of my quick hands and frantic prayers, it had refused to show a spark of life.
what does this all have to do with anything?
i was hoping you'd ask.
first of all, though i no longer have as immediate of a connection with the outside world through my telephone, i am not nearly as worried about it as i imagined myself to be. see paragraph 1: detachment and living in the moment.
second, our irish friend has a penchant for reminding us that the birds of the air neither reap nor sow, but God is taking care of them. point taken. see paragraph 1 again.
third, everything does seem a bit brighter and more cheerful when it is done in irish. give it a whirl and you'll see what I mean.
all this to say, if your cellphone dies, it's not the end of the world.
and, remember the birds and that worrying doesn't add a second to your life span. and then say it over again in an irish accent and see if it doesn't make you feel better.