A Blessing for Writers

In the last few months, I have been made aware of friends who are writing some really fabulous things. While the idea of writing a book or being published sounds wonderful, I am learning it might not be in the future for me. At least not now. So I was wondering how I might encourage them instead of succumbing to my jealousy (Yes, there is an ugly place in me that hates you writer-types because you're so damn good). So, I found another way. It's a different kind of writing but it draws me out of myself and creates a place to bless the amazing things others are doing, writing, and being. I can be me and be blessed with what shape that takes while also blessing and being blessed by you.

A blessing for writers:

May you always recall the joy of bedtime stories of dragons and fairies.   

May you always rejoice in the imagination and creation of other worlds, other people, and other stories.

May the words you have locked up in your mind find place on the page before you.

May your deadline help you choose your words wisely.

May the story worth telling inside you find a way to surface.


And as we pen new stories and bind old ones
, may you always enjoy the journey to find those perfectly imperfect words to tell it.

Your Faith isn't Always Enough

I've been reading a lot lately. Probably more than my average amount. I think this is in part because my return to graduate school peaked a slumbering curiosity within me and I am chasing ideas in the pages of books but also because there is a hard story happening in my life. Unfortunately, there is rarely a life that is spared sadness, loss, confusion, guilt, shame, and brokenness. When we feel these things, when we sit front and center living our hard story, we yearn for something or someone to hold us. We might face illness, loss of a job, moving, depression, loss of a parent or child, rape, or other abuse.  A well intentioned but deeply harming response offered too often is "Just keep the faith." Sure, for me, faith proves immensely helpful in my ability to wake up every day. But the really hard stories-the hardest stories- need more than faith. I think the greatest, most honest faith is probably one that would give up of itself.

But, faith does not make a shit of a difference if we don't have people willing to let us be faithless. I don't mean that we will most certainly be faithless; I mean that we need people who aren't going to turn to shallow evangelism and empty prayer if we find ourselves forgetting the good.  It means we are allowed to forget the often shallow optimism we employ in faith so we can feel and face pain and suffering. In doing so, we meet a God who doesn't receive our blame for suffering, but simply receives it-and holds it with us. This is the incarnate.

Someone else can hold faith while we let our shit hit the fan. It is a fiercely difficult task to hold such hurt and faith in tandem, one that I am far from perfecting. In the best of time, it can be easy to feel invincible and full of life. And in the worst of times, it can be easy to forget that once upon a time, your life was full of goodness. It's easy to let ourselves reek of death and give in to the voice of nothingness. But there are ebbs and flows at work even in are unawareness, even in our nothingness.

A part of me hates saying that faith is not enough but a newer, more raw part says I wish someone would have said this to me. I have tried so hard to be faithful (faithful in the sense of void of doubt and disbelief. I would argue that now, I define faith as full of doubt and questioning). And maybe for you, your faith is enough for the hardest stories and that is beautiful too but be weary of assuming we all can endure as hope-full as you. What I would suggest is that the hardest stories require a cocktail of sorts. They require some element of faith but also humility, openness, vulnerability, and a giving up for another. And this is not faith of the religious or spiritual sense, but maybe it is that too.  I simply mean more of faith in knowing stories keep going, that today is not the end but maybe for someone it is; it is faith that we are part of a much larger narrative-Christian or not.  This is faith that is okay with us not being okay. This faith sometimes draws out holy anger.  This faith let's us be bothered by things in our stories and the stories of others. This faith cries out during injustice, a loud bellow, that disarms the armed and lifts up the lowly.

We say "Everything will be okay" to a lot to people going through the hardest stories.  We push hope, faith, and peace.  Perhaps, it is not always appropriate. Perhaps Jesus wants us to sit with one another in our hopelessness, faithlessness, and unrest. Perhaps entering into the suffering and allowing it is more faith-full response.  Faith is not enough; we must be faith-full people living in light of the incarnation and in the midst of the hardest stories.

If you are a music fan, a great song that lends itself well to this idea of hard stories and happy endings is "Happy Endings" by MIKA. 

May the God of our hardest stories be with you, in flesh and in spirit, today and always.

2013: Hopes & Dreams

I don't like resolutions. I have never, ever been able to keep one.  So instead of a resolution, I just set up to have some hopes and dreams for 2013.  Some are vague, some specific; all valuable and with the potential to transform. And isn't that what life is about: being able to change, grow, and respond to the world around us out of hope, compassion, and grace.

 

For those that don't know, I'm in graduate school in Seattle. I currently flip flop between a Masters of Divinity and a Masters of Art in Theology and Culture. Maybe I will pick for reals sometime here soon. Or maybe I can do both (and be broke forever!).  Either way, it is finals week and I am attempting to condense what I have learned, unlearned, and where I find myself in my beliefs in 6-8 pages, double spaced. It's not an easy task but I am learning what is of utmost importance to me and that is helpful.

This post won't be comical or witty. Instead, I want to encourage us to think how, when, and to whom you can love better and more fully.  I struggle with this.  I want to react to people who see differently than I do and show them how they are wrong. Often, I want to convince them over to my side.  In the same manner though, I am shy. I do not like debate or to have to remain on a "side". I do not always like taking sides.   

While there may or may not be a right side, there is a different (or right?) way to love that looks more like listening than talking, more like hearing than saying, and more like humility than conviction. 

Here is a thought I had today about how I (and perhaps, we) can begin to see one another with different eyes and with a new imagination for what could be.  I want to imagine a response to exclusion that sounds like a welcome and while I do not know yet how to fully live that, it is important for me to try.

"We are always at fault of exclusion especially when it is done in resistance to a previous exclusion. Some denominations exclude women from church leadership positions and it would be understandable (perhaps even wise at times) to take a stance against them. However, if I do not make room for this voice in my conversations and posture, if I do not turn my stance towards rather than against, I am also cultivating exclusion. 

And I would suggest, perhaps I am at a greater fault than the original offender for I know the harm I cause."

 And This: My Finals Face. 

Pen Testing In Progress

I thought I was unique in my desire to have specific writing utensils. Turns out, graduate school brings all the geeks out.  In the last month, I have had more conversations around what types of pens we prefer and why than I have about Jesus...Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but you get my point.  I am currently in testing phase trying out some newly recommended pens from a trusted pen-aficionado professor at The Seattle School, Pat Loughery.  His blog is much more useful and thoughtful than mine so be sure to check it out.  He also has another called WayofLife::Online that helps shed light on our intentionality: be it in faith, relationships, and more.  You will actually learn something from him, unlike here where your best bet for learning is to just log off!

Anyways, back to the lesser story:

Historically, I prefer the moleskine brand fine point pen that writes beautifully; it doesn't blot or puddle, and clips on quite well to a journal (pen on far left in photo).  For homework and notes, my default pen of choice since 2001 is a Pilot G2 .07.  With heavier ink flow, it's great for bold writing and doodles alike (far right in photo).

Enter two new pens- Tul Retractable Gel Medium point pen (second from left) and the Tul Medium ballpoint (second from right).  I must say, the ballpoint one is surprisingly handy to journal with.  It doesn't blot or leak through the pages and glides smooth on the paper.  The retractable gel pen is heavier than I like to use in my moleskine but very comparable to the Pilot G2 .07.  I like them both.  Pat suggested a fine point as his moleskine pen of choice. I couldn't find it at the store yesterday so the quest continues.

Another nugget to ponder-does your penmanship change with your writing utensils? With your mood? At different times of the day? After caffeine? Before eating? Start to take notice. Is your penmanship always consistent regardless of these factors.  As I've been journaling more, I notice subtle and some not so subtle differences.  With technology and typeface becoming the norm for communication, penmanship is becoming a lost art. Little girls don't practice writing their future husbands last names and no one dares pass an archaic note in class either.

So today, break the rules. Write a note by hand. Hell, deliver it by hand. Even better!  And please, if you have a favorite pen, do share.  Good pens are too few and far between to keep to yourself, asshole. I would really love it if pens just started showing up in the mail for me to try! :)

Meet Sophers.

This is Sophie.  She is an almost 1 year old (She'll be 1 in 4 days. There may or may not be a party).  I named her Sophie knowing that the names means wisdom or wise one. This was my futile attempt in trying to have a smart dog. Now, Sophie is smart in the sense that she will do tricks, follow most commands, and unfortunately...is sneaky as hell.  But she just isn't very street smart. She'd never make it in Mexico. Her favorite activities include running around the church yard, going on walks in the harbor, eating the church pew in my living room, eating actual food, pooping (way too much), and sneaking lone socks out of my laundry baskets.  This last activity is my pet peeve...not because it does the most damage but because to have mismatched socks is a tragedy of great proportions for the modern day human.

Yet in her annoyance, she is also a wonderful dog.  She knows when you are sad.  She'll hop in your lap (all 70lbs of her) or snuggle up close and sniff your tears (probably because she wants to lick them more than anything).  She is never low on excitement, weird noises, and funny faces.  The photo here is when I woke her up from a mid-day nap and she looked drugged.  She is in the best mood in the morning when I first turn on the lights. She puts her chin on the edge of my bed until I get up to let her out. As a single person that is living in a new and different place, to have Sophie is a God-send.  Maybe that sounds sad or pathetic to you, but having someone or something to come home to feels nice, even if it is "just" a dog. :)

You're welcome to play with her anytime. She hasn't met a person (or dog) yet that she doesn't like!

Red Light Rear View

So funny thing here.  I think motorcycles are cool and pretty awesome looking (even though I've never actually been able to ride one) but I strongly urge those who ride to also be fans of clothing that fits properly and doesn't blow, sag, dip, or scoot. 

It's like iSpy. Find all the wardrobe malfunctions.

It's Friday, Friday.

Happy Birthday Taylor Reid!

You know it's going to be a good party when you wear four hats. Taylor is my bff. The bread to my butter; the tequila to my margarita, and G to my string. Always a blasty and joy to be around. He's rather awesome like that.  For his 24th birthday, we had an epic party at the always classy Tulalip Resort and Casino which included a ultra swank room, gambling our hearts out, and dance parties galore.  Friends like these are rare (for a good reason: too much of a good thing...well, you know how it goes!) ;) I'm glad I was able to spend the weekend celebrating the amazing person he is. I think this instagram definitely does him justice. It's the essence of Taylor!

White Chocolate Banana Goodness.

Okay...Check it out.

I made the recipe up myself and I must say...it the bomb.com. Better than your mama's banana bread. Or your gramma's for that matter. But probably not better than my mom's, because her's actually is the best. I can't betray that but I can say that thanks to genetics, I've got the banana bread gene.

 Pre-heat over to 350 degrees
Baking Time is 15-20 mins.


Mix Together:
3 Ripe Bananas
1 tsp Baking Powder
1 tsp Baking Soda
2 Eggs (beaten)
2 tsp Vanilla
2 tsp Milk
1 tsp Salt
1/2 stick of butter
1/2 Cup of Shortening
1 Cup of Sugar
2 Cups of Flour
12-16oz of white chocolate baking chips

Spoon into muffin tins (be sure to use baking cups too!) about 1/2 to 2/3 full. Bake then enjoy! 

Grams has the Munchies.

Do you ever sit by someone-be it at a coffee shop, theater, restaurant, bus,....or airplane...and they just completely captivate you?  You can't divert your eyes because every little movements and task they perform is done in such peculiar ways that you become transfixed?

This Grandma had me a boarding.  We hopped on the plane and before she even made it to her seat, I knew this would be a special one.  I knew it would be even better when I looked over 20 minutes after take off to find her slouched over out cold.  My traveling companions and I watched her for a few minutes to ensure she was in fact still breathing.

After she woke up about an hour into the flight, it was like she transformed into a slow, 15 year old boy with the munchies. I have never NEVER seen a grandma put down food like this lady did.

First it was her soggy, bruised half eaten banana she had carried on that was wrapped in an old subway sandwich bag. Then she pull out some crackers and spread that appeared to be homemade and disgustingly messy. She had grandma hands, which are cute, expect when covered in mayo spread being licked and sucked ever 2 minutes. I've never seen anyone find another meal under their nails like Gammy did.

Just when we thought she was done she ordered an entire snack pack from the stewardess. Keep in mind this was a Vegas to Seattle flight, not ever 3 hours long!  She munched her way through that and while she was order her coffee and soda, we decided she had to be baked because there was no way you could eat that much at that age and not be high.

Well, props Gammy. You managed to defy all odds and captivate row 30 like no other. See you in the air.

CVS x3

This is what happens when you go to 3 different CVS pharmacies in a 4 day vacation. The old man creeper glasses start to actually "look good" and you become all to equipped to morph into the persona required to wear them.

It was an eventful vacation and I'm sure as shit happy to not visit another CVS for a year or two.

Thursday: Dutch Lovers.

SO, there is this place in Las Vegas called the forum (you can guess which resort/casino it's connect to).  It has hundreds of shops, restaurants, art displays, etc. You feel like you're in another world entirely. 

I've also wanted a tattoo but could never figure out what exactly. Even now that I think I know what I would get, I'm still too chicken to committ to forever. Maybe that's why I'm still single.....I digress.  My family is Dutch and I remember growing up running around my grandma's house in clogs all the time. I thought they were so cool and fun. It was dress up for me. My sisters and I always had sets up dutch nesting dolls as well. I loved playing with them--setting them all out, stacking them all up. Okay, so maybe they weren't all that fun actually but I still loved them.

I decided a few months ago that my tattoo would be that-Dutch nesting dolls. It means more to me than something random and I don't really want Jesus tattooed on me just yet--I'm not ever NOT going to be Dutch so bring it, Holland.

This little Dutch couple was displayed in a window in the Forum while we were harassing Las Vegas. I could not help but love the ridiculousness of it. It's traditional with a flair.  I love the uniqueness of it.  I plan on a fairly traditional nesting doll, but this nonetheless, did push me to become a little more creative (and serious) about this tattoo. Hopefully one day I'll blog about it actually happening! HA!

Which is Uglier?

I've yet to decide which actually bothers me more: The hot pink dog snuggie or the ugly bug eyed dog in the pink snuggie.

It's technically called a "Pet Cuddlee". It comes in Small, Medium, Large and Extra Large and you can purchase 2 for just $10.00 at your local Las Vegas CVS Pharmacy.

We've had an eventful time in Vegas so far and it's just the first day. I fear this first trip to CVS won't be our last. At least there are "interesting" things to look at while waiting for prescriptions to get filled!

Friends, be kind. Don't make your dog look like a pink twinkie.

Scared Shitless

I hate flying with every bone in my body. All be it, I love to travel.  My love of travel always outweighs my fear of flying. It's manageable--I can still function and not have a melt down on the plane, although a few years ago I might not have been able to say that.

I think this photo I took out my plane window somewhere around 9 or 10 in the morning. For the briefest of moments, I think I actually enjoyed flying. How else would you ever get such an incredible view as this?

Now, there are still some negatives for me. I'm literally scared shitless. If you're a person who is weary off poo-talk, avert your eyes now. When I travel I simply can't poo. I've held it for almost a week before. What the crap?! No pun intended. Does anyone else experience this Traveler's Consitpation or is it just me? It is like the second I step onto a plane, go camping, etc. my bowels become like the Hoover Dam. Ain't nothing going anywhere!  You can imagine what happens once I get home....


Anyway, this view was nice and my intestines weren't. It was worth the panic and constipation to see something this cool however.

Loud and Uninteresting

Meet Megan. She's loud and uninteresting.

Well, so they say....or at least he says. "He" is right with the former. She is loud. Loud and proud.  If you have sensitive ears, consider purchasing earmuffs while you hit the town with this girl.  Her loudness isn't a problem though--most of us are quite fond of it. It makes for exciting moments, like trying to be sneaky. It's not her strong suit.  But she has many other strong suits she puts on, like eating blizzards for example.


"He" also called her uninteresting. This is where we must agree to disagree. Megan is probably one of the most interesting people I have met.  She's that person that gets mono more than once, will marry a rich black man named jamal, and get a bruise the size of Oprah's underarms on her ass from a mean encounter with the stairs. Girl has got stories for days. And photos. She's more than happy to text them to you or set them as your phone background.

So Jamal, if you're out there, "He" obviously didn't work out. Megan would like to share a blizzard with you someday aka TODAY. Wait no. She probably wouldn't share her's but she might suggest a good flavor.

Peace and Blessings.
Peace and Blessings.
Whaterrrr.

The Thrift Store Rage.

Well friends, here it is. The wave of thrift store futures. It's the wheelie basket.

While out thrifting today at our local Value Village, we discovered a new trend.  Thrift stores aren't just for our outdated, worn clothes anymore. They have made cutting edge advancements in shopping starting with the wheelie basket. Is it a cart? NO. Is it a basket? SORTA. Is it wheelie? DEFINITELY.

It functions much like those suitcases that have the wheels that can move and go in any direction. I'm sure there is a very proper, logical name for those wheels---but I don't know it.  While shopping I pretended I had children in it, imitated a janitor buffing floors, and had a lovely conversation with our clerk who mentioned that some people even put their dogs in it when they come in to shop.

Ummmmm. Ew. I don't think I'll be using one again any time soon. But ya, wave of the future. Thrift store rage.  Try it out. Take your children, or your dog. They will be sure to enjoy skirting along the floor of a second hand shop while you pick out their next embarrassing sequin jumpsuit.

Meet Muffy

I'd like you all to meet Muffy. He was adopted from an Issaquah Walgreens along with two of his siblings in 2007. Muffy is a pretty consistent pal...always happy and a little nuts.

Muffy sits on the counter in my bathroom. I find it hard to be grumpy in the morning when a ceramic squirrel/chipmunk thing is looking at you with buck teeth and an acorn at its side. We currently have 2 of the 3 siblings in our home-not really sure when the 3rd one ended up.

One of the coolest things Muffy can do is hide things in his butt...well, maybe tail is more appropriate. I like to stick a $20 in there for safe keeping.

Thanks for meeting Muffy.

What the Heck?

Welcome to Instablog Seattle! This is a place where randomness, tiny inklings, happen-chance, and seemingly insignificant thoughts come to fruition. Every day, I post something random from my day and extrapilate from it. It all starts with a photo. For those who know me well, I'm somewhat of a photo whore. I love them. I could make up a story for any photo...in fact, it's one of my favorite things to do.

My postings may be about things I over hear, my quirky beloved family, random conversations from the church I work at, or perhaps even a recipe or two of the food I like to cook. It's simply meant to be a crooked window into my life. There is nothing formal about this-which is much like me. I'll be posting and uploading the inspiration image via the instagram app on my iphone. My hope is to give some substance to all the random postings, photos, and crap I subject my friends to on facebook. At least here, there will be some type of productivity about them.

Enjoy and spread the instablog!