labor pains (2nd attempt)

OK, I'm gonna fly through the boring 24 hrs of playful labor. from 2AM Saturday November 14th to about noon I had little cramps like you get when you're on your cycle, but a little more "purposeful". They stopped after a walk (much to my consternation) and I was sure my body had given up on the whole thought of labor; much better to keep the baby inside : ) Thankfully though, I was wrong and later that evening they started up again. They kept at about a 40 second long, 5 minute apart pace for about 3 hours then seemed to get farther apart but far more intense. Around 2AM I got frustrated that things were taking so long and decided to take a bath and try to sleep. By 3AM I'd turned a corner which was marked by the need to vomit (thanks a lot) and the whole bloody show thing which is unsettling at best. By now, I've been up 24 hrs minus a brief nap, and my mom and dad have been up about 20 hrs. My mom decided to sit with me as I napped (thankfully) and saw my body language change as soon as I lay down to sleep; needless to say, sleep never happened. I had to start thinking about relaxing and had to breath with the intention of release...

I remember as they kept growing and growing in intensity, praying with each contraction's beginning that God would be glorified by this work. It's such a strange awareness when you're in labor. It's not unlike how I feel when I'm performing oddly enough. It's like watching yourself from outside of your body, even though you feel everything your body feels, you almost can't control it. It took a lot of effort to move and even more effort to keep myself from fighting the contractions trying to escape.

My mom talked me through each contraction. Our bodies and personalities are so much alike that she could tell from my breathing and muscular tension exactly where I was in labor. The most encouraging thing was when she told me that I was at the height of my work... that it wouldn't get any worse only better when I could push. A few contractions later I was there. It was 5AM when I felt the urge to push and the midwife was asked to come (she would have come sooner, but I didn't want her there until I needed her; I wanted to work in peace). By the time she arrived at 5:30 Olivia's head was starting to show. Because of my positioning laying on my side, I could see her head shortly after. I was able to watch for the next 30 minutes as she worked her way into this world. By 6:02AM she was laying on my belly with all her fingers and toes and other important pieces... It was a truly transforming experience.

She had some mucus in her throat when she was born, so even though she could breath fine on her own, it definitely got in her way. She had a hard time warming up and while she pinked up right away, she turned dusky off and on. They tried to suck it out of her nose and mouth with a nasal aspirator, it was apparently in her throat. They then had to syphon it out which was traumatic for me to watch but good for them to do. After that she was fine. The midwife asked that because of her mucusie condition that she be watched for a full 24 hours just to be safe. My mum and dad and brother all took turns with her all through the night so I could sleep, only waking me when she was hungry... It was so nice to be in my home and know exactly who was holding my baby and where she was.

Now, amazingly, she's 3 weeks and 5 days old; almost a whole month! She's had her first bath, her first smile, her first virus : ( her first Thanksgiving! She's hung her first ornaments on our tree, heard her first few sermons and more than a few first songs. She likes Jazz and Classical Adagios with violins and cello's. She knows voices and follows people's voices and sometimes their movement too... She's truly amazing and a work of praise to the One who formed her.

playing it fast and close

God is sure enjoying the whole yanking-my-chain thing... it's a roller coaster these days. Pray for employment and a boss who has a use for my giftings. OR for a change of heart and a new career. Not looking hopeful today.

thankful for

This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for:
wearing jeans : ) (with no elastic either); sleeping for 5 hrs. at a time! A Nani who's willing to change diapers and take a night shift. Sleeping on my stomach. Eating a full meal with no heartburn afterwards. A Papi, Nani, Aunt Hannah and Uncle Nick who all love to hold and rock and play with baby.

Here with us

So if you haven't heard it, listen to Joy William's "Here with us". I know it's a little early for Christmas, but if you're going to perform a Christmas dance you choreograph it early, so I've been listening to it a LOT. To me, dances to lyrical music (or music with lyrics rather) should be a painting or physical demonstration of the lyrics. I usually listen to the music purely instrumentally a few times first to see if any sort of movement quality stands out to me or if I feel like moving a certain way; if I do, I know it will be easy to choreograph to. This one moved me, but I didn't feel any specific movement coming out of the instruments... too many swells and such, hard to emulate with the human body since we can't artificially suspend ourselves : ) Next comes the words. The words to this song are really good. The theology is sound and the thoughts for me are awe inspiring, especially being pregnant and anticipating this little person coming into the world and relying so heavily on me. How crazy for Mary! I wonder how much she knew... did she know how her baby would die? Did she know, when she ran to him at night answering his cry that he was here to answer the cry of the souls of man? Did she anticipate how helpless she would be to prevent his suffering and dying for sins and wrongs not his own? Could she know as she rocked him and nursed him, that he was there to die for her? I almost hope for her sake she didn't... I can't imagine what that pain of knowledge would feel like. You know a song is good when it moves you more the more you listen to it. I'm not sick of it yet; hopefully Alyssa isn't either. I hope God will use my skill (what little I have) and move through it and through Alyssa's young body and convey these thoughts to the women who see the dance.

mommy brain

I was laying in bed last night (I don't remember which hour, take your pick. I don't actually sleep much these days, just dose) when I realized and finally appreciated why new moms can only talk about their kids. It's cute at first, 'cause everyone loves a baby, but it gets old fast and suddenly becomes apparent that they're out of touch with reality. I have officially entered this zone. My existence is no longer valid as an individual. It is irrelevant what my hair looks like, weather I wear makeup or not, if my outfit even matches, how deep the bags under my eyes are (unless it means i'm getting sick which could be trouble for baby). The reason I'm here is to support this person squishing me to death from the inside out. My life is on pause, and it has been since September. When people ask if I'm a student (I hate that question btw... as if there's nothing else valuable in life a 20-something could do) I can no longer respond, "no i'm a teacher" that Heather doesn't exist; I can't respond, "no, I'm a dancer" she's paused in some alternate reality too. I have to say, "no, I've never gone to school. I went straight into teaching, and now I'm just waiting to have a baby"... really? In America especially I think, we attach our identity to what we do. It's lame.

So, I sit here with my alternate identity on pause realizing I may never be able to push the "resume" button. I knew all along that when I did resume it would look a lot different. That things would be sacrificed and freedom would be a joke from a past life. But still, I thought I'd again be able to say, "no, i'm not a student, I'm a teacher and dancer and mum". I'm not so sure these days. The longer my life is paused the farther away it seems. The soil and ground that is life is continuing to pile up in front of me as I watch, paused, frozen, unable to climb the hill as it's built. Is this re-direction? Is this yet another great surrender that God is asking of me? If it is I'll willingly (well, as willing as a selfish child can) submit, but if this is just a challenge, then give me strength.

The Bebo Norman song "The Hammer Holds" says it so well.
"this flame it melts my dreams... So dream a little dream for me In hopes that I'll remain. And cry a little cry for me So I can bear the flames. Hurt a little hurt for me My future is untold. My dreams are not the issue here for Thee the hammer holds"

"The hammer pounds again, the flames i do not feel, this force that drives me helplessly through the flesh and would reveal, a burn that burns much deeper, it's more than i can stand, the reason for my life was to take the life of a Guiltless Man...so dream a little dream.. but my dreams are not the issue here for Thee the hammer holds."

A Wedding

I went to a wedding yesterday. Two of my long-time, home schooled friends. It was beautiful; I was awkward. It's a strange feeling to watch peoples faces as they see you and then your 8+ month pregnant self after a 5 year absence. You can see the list of questions, the curiosity, the shock, and sometimes even a twinge of guilt for the judgement they so quickly passed and wished they could take back...

My mom had seen an old friend of mine a few days back and he'd asked with innocent curiosity why they hadn't seen me around. Her response was that she wasn't sure if I wanted to hang out with old friends... this is somewhat misleading, but it led me down a path of thought and analysis. Mostly, I just don't run in any circles where we would bump into each other anymore; I'm obviously not still in h.s. and I don't go to their church, so those two primary bumping spots are out. Another more painfully obvious reason is probably the most true though, and this reason chased me around the whole wedding and reception.

Imagine your most private sin. Now, sin in general is addictive, especially when hidden; there's something desperate and compulsive about something you don't want to BE but somehow end up doing. Like many closet drunks or early junkies, mine was an embarrassing enslavement; one that I'd tried to elude for some time but somehow always fell back into.

Now, imagine that sin having a physical manifestation. It can be whatever you like... C.S. Lewis described it as a shoulder puppet in one of his books...one that did all the owner's talking for it and grew till you could only see the puppet and no longer the man to whom it "belonged". You could see it as a cancer growing for everyone to see. My manifestation is a huge belly. Now, don't get me wrong; Olive is not my punishment, or my judgement, but is a great gift from the Father of Heavenly Lights; she is an example of redemption...still, everyone who saw me knew. I'm here, living with my parents, because I got myself knocked up by someone who is first: not my husband, and second: not in the picture. I'm not starting my family, I'm not taking the next step... I don't even know what comes next!

Imagine that this manifestation will only grow. Even if somehow by God's grace you can be released and be who you want to be rather than the trapped person you've been trying to free, you will still have this "scarlet letter" hanging on your neck or, in my case, holding my hand.

It's humiliating. I find myself in need of humility more than I ever realized. It's strange too. I have felt for the longest time that keeping my struggles private is better, safer. I'm realizing now that that's part of the entrapment. I avoid talking about Olive's father as much as possible, or am as vague as possible, but I realized over the last few days that being honest and blunt is way easier, and much more liberating! It of course is an awkward thing to breach. You can see people's curiosity and hesitancy. It's not my place to talk about it with everyone; that would be inappropriate. But I'm more open to being honest and real when people do ask.

I will not be foolish enough to resist the process of letting my past shape who I am becoming. I will embrace with fear and trembling the marks and adjustments the Potter is making. I will chose to trust with all my being that He is gracious and compassionate and release myself to His justice and mercy. I pray that my experiences will teach me humility and compassion. Here's to weddings and reunions!

biodegradable

Life is slowly chipping me away. It finally got to a point today that felt good. I woke up, ate breakfast, read. By then the house was mine so I played around on the piano. Took the dogs for a walk (probably the shortest walk of their life). Sat listening to music, watching my animals, and remembering me up to 3 years ago. Seeing my mistakes, my selfishness; missing people and things I'd thrown aside for my inability to bear the pain of keeping them. The funny part is while it was a breaking down, and a sorrow in a sense, it didn't hurt at all. It's kind of like the feeling after a run, or a good cry when everything feels a little cleaner. I don't think I regret the choices I've made, but I certainly wonder if life will circle me around to familiar places again. Of course there are mistakes I would appologize for. Hypocrisy, judgement, selfishness, keeping myself from people (one especially) for fear of being lost in the giving, of coming up with the short end of the stick.

I'm so good at keeping busy so that I don't have to feel or think. I was doing it consciously at first, but then it kept doing me when I should have stopped. Life has brought me to a stand still so that the last few years worth of erosion has time to drop from my facade, leaving me bare and naked with who I am today.

I think being home puts a funny spin on it all too. The simplicity of childhood mingled with the experience of adulthood. It would be hard to grow into adulthood living at home. Life sort of stops externally and cascades internally... strange.

I'm going to take a nap. : )

Attonement Child

just read this book, "Attonement Child". It was sweet, moving, and an easy read. The problem is? It's not true... the harsh realty it addresses about abortion and the pain of loss and all of that are true, but things don't just fall into your lap. Just because you make the "right choice" God doesn't reward you with a magic doctor who's willing to do it all for free, or a great guy who wants to marry you and support you, or even a ready answer to all your fears. I have two months and I need answers and results... how am I supposed to do all of this???

sigh

are you joking me!?!

so, I know LA has a lot of poor people. I am now one of them. I cannot for the life of me find resource centers for us poor people. Portland is amazing! There's sliding scale accupuncture..good stuff too! And crisis pregnancy centers that have lists of health care options for us poor folk. I can't even find a crisis pregnancy center within 20 miles of my paretns' home! Rich people's kids need help sometimes too LA! And that's the joke here, my parents aren't even rich; our great-grandma made the down-payment on this house for us before she died, so we just live in a rich demographic. I'm kind of freaking out! Olive is gonna be here in 10 wks and I don't have insurance for her, nor do I have any feasible options for healthcare without insurance... I REFUSE to work at Starbucks again just for benefits... ugh!

I am so frustrated by my inability to do anything for myself anymore. I tried to help wash my uncle's truck yesterday and got overheated and had to take a nap instead... realy? for 10 more weeks i'm going to be useless? LAME! I couldn't even carry the cat food bag to the checkout counter 'cause 25 lbs is too heavy for a pregnant lady. arg. For someone who's been taking care of herself for about 5 years, this sucks! I'm not good at sitting around. Pray that God will give me patience. Or shut off my brain for the next few months or something.

LA

well, we made it. I'll have to tell the full story when I have more time, it's got a lot of wrong turns... The truck is unpacked, we ditched my bed so we have to buy a new one tonight, gonna go clean my uncle's truck. Thanks Uncle David!

imagine

Imagine a boundless field. Grassy hill upon grassy hill. So much space it would be hard to guess the surface area, much less the number of blades of grass. Now imagine knowing each blade of grass as an individual. Even that much knowledge is overwhelming! NOW imagine Loving each blade of grass!!! not like, "I love grass!" but like "I love you mr. blade-of-grass" and not love like it makes you feel good warm and cushy, or like you just drank a gallon of wine and love everyone...but love like "I would die for you" love, for each blade of grass. Now read Psalm 103. especially vs 14-18. Considering that I find it hard to truely love anyone selflessly, this thought and image blew my mind. why would an infinite being waste himself on us like that? it's illogical, it's unfair! There's no way that the grass could ever reciprocate or even comprehend. It kind of puts a funny spin on life if you think about it. I mean, no one cries and complains that it's not fair when a blade of grass dies young, or is killed in a car crash lol. Ok, I guess that went a bit to far, but think of how silly it all is when you realize our frailty. Like moving is a big deal...i'm just grass, I should be thankful I'm not getting mowed!

precedence

I wonder with all the changes going on in the US if they've thought of hiring a historian to resurch the common side effects of these cultural changes. For instance... i wonder if there is a recorded society where men married men and adopted babies. What does that look like as it continues? Or our healthcare issues. I mean, isn't Canada almost bank rupt because of all of the things its government has taken over? And that's not even history! Who is keeping track of the ramifications of the alterations we're making? History does repeat. Sodom and Gomorrah... is there an extensive history on these places? I wonder how they got so perverted? It ususally goes in steps..what were the first ones? how did blindness start? Look down the road before you pick which fork to take people!

Just thoughts

Got my test back about the glucose levels. I'm good. Wich is good 'cause I just had like 3 cup cakes at my baby shower last night : )

The shower was FABULOUS! It was so amazing to have so many wonderful people in one house together. I've often marveled at how amazing it is to dance with a company full of sincere, concerned individuals. Polaris is amazing. But to have my other worlds of friends there too? How many people are lucky enough to have work friends that are fabulous, old school friends who are fabulous, and adopted family that are fabulous too? And to see everyone laughing and "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing with each new cute baby item. I just love my friends!

Which takes me to my next thought. I'm still in denial about moving. I don't think it will really hit me 'till I've been in LA for a while. I ususally visit home this time of year, so I imagine I can pretend it's just a long visit at first... There are so many people I want to spend like every second with before I leave but there's so much I'm supposed to be doing. (like posting my couch and table on Craigslist...anyone want a table or couch?) I'm so glad I teach at Fired Up till the end. A week away from those guys feels like months! sigh. Back to living I guess. I love you all!

good friends

are awesome!

too much time

So I'd like to preface this blog by saying I have too much free time these days which means self-pitty's breeding ground for those of you who don't know me that well yet.

I'm now at week 26. I have 10 more weeks before i'm "full term" and 14 more 'till I'm likely to give birth. For the last 6 months I've expanded, swollen, leaked, stretched, cried, and eaten a strange mixture of foods alone. Supposedly this week, my partner could hear Olive's heart beat by simply puting his ear to my belly. But I go to sleep each night alone and wake up each morning the same way. There's no one to kiss my belly or listen to Ollie's heart beat. No one to help me pick which song should be "her" song, putting the headphones over my bump so she can dance to it's beat (which she now has the brain capacity to recognize by the way). There's no one to talk to my belly, no voice for her to become familiar with besides my own.

So far, Olive has danced most to Divertimento no. 15 and to Muse's Ruled By Secrecy. I think though "The Hill" will be her song. More because I'm obsessed with it than any other reason.

On a side note, I'll be cooking alot these days to keep myself busy if anyone wants to swing by my place for dinner feel free!

entitlement

It's insane how we hold on to some things. It's insane how we stop holding on to anything to keep ourselves from getting hurt. Walls are built with each failed encouter and walls are chipped away at with each resonant conversation. With all this construction, it's a wonder we ever see into one another's eyes. Thank God for good timing.

All of you I have rights to
Is what of you I've had.
The only things I can claim from you
Are those you've given me yet.

Promisses and future plans,
wishes hopes or dreams
All of these are offered easily
and few are ever seen.

Soon I'll learn to indwell this moment
Soon I'll be contented.
Finally holding open handed
The future unafected.

scarry dreams again

I dreamt about visiting the Dr.s last night. I don't know if I'm anxious about my next visit or if it's just a strange heat induced dream, but it was freaky! The two nurses who have helped me in the past, one large and Danish the other small and asian told me there was this test they had to run before the Dr. could see me. The asian proceded to come at my hands with a scalpel... she'd slice my hand deep enough for blood and then the Dane would smear some stinging cream on each one and cover it with tape. Over and over and over till I couldn't see my hands any more and I finally screamed that they needed to stop and I needed to talk to my doctor because she hadn't told me about this test and it's bull sh__. That seemed to end the dream. grose and freaky! The worst cuts were the ones where the first attempt wouldn't go deep enough so she'd re-cut the same spot. Where does my brain pick this stuff up from? Maybe it was those seasons of Dexter I watched last year... hmm.

stupid maternity clothes

so, i'm down to my last/largest pair of non-maternity shorts that fit. I have gone shoping twice, and the pickings are not good. First of all, they assume that if you're pregnant, you must be the size of a small house. I have to find XS in the maternity department which seems kind of silly to me. Then, if I do find something that fits, it's hiddeous!! The one nice thing is they are the most comfortable clothes ever made. i want some pants I can wear to be dressed better than casual, but when they have a HUGE elastic circle in the front how nice can you look? SIGH 3 months left to looking horrible.

romance; Disney vs. romantic era

As I was coming up the stairs following dance history today, I overheard a conversation between two students about the depressing nature of today's material. i don't know if it came out of disgust from last week's My Prince Will Come theme or if it was simply because I like the ballet, but I chose Giselle as the first classical peice we'd study this week. i don't know how many of you are familiar with the story of Giselle, but it's sadly dramatic and ironically realistic (as far as character development). There's this girl Giselle, she's pretty and frail and betrothed to this lame hunter guy who cares about her but whom she doesn't love. Then there's this prince who's handsome and strong and betrothed to this princess lady, but he is tired of the royal life and iikes to sneak out in disguise among the peasants and experience "real life". Predictably on one such trip, Giselle meets her prince and they fall i love ( if disney did this story, it would end here and they would live happily ever after, never mind poor booring hunter guy and princess lady; "true love" trumps all). Well, it comes out that he's the prince, actually, Giselle finds the princess and the prince together and it causes her to go insane which puts some strain on her already weak heart, and she literally dances herself to death.

Here's the part I like, they're both rediculously selfish... Giselle has this great man (boring, sure, but great) who goes hunting for she and her mom, wants to love her and take care of her and she seemed to like him just fine until another better looking offer came up (so typical). Then there's the prince, he pretended he wanted to be with her, even said he loved her and wanted to marry her when he knew all the time that he was promised to this princess chick and even if he wasn't, he couldn't marry a commoner (again, typical, say the line to get what you want). Sigh.

The story gets even a little more depressing. There are the willies ( i won't go into that here, if you really want to know, google it) and Giselle lets them kill her poor hunter dude. He loved her and made a cross for her grave and is probably still taking care of her mother, and she just lets him die! But the selfish prince she saves. What a stupid girl will do for a pretty face! Lesson learned? Love will kill you ladies, guys, pick a sweet girl and she'll save your ass even when you don't deserve it (oh, and have a pretty face).

Love is a magnet, everyone's at it, everyone's had it
love is a madness, love is a sadness, we are the addicts
what are we if we're not in love
what are we if we're not in love
these are the cages, a kiss is contageous, it will betray us all
a kiss will betray us all.

Dog sitting while 23 weeks pregnant.

Imagine with me, wrestling your own small but strong beagle mix along with it's friend a lab-bull mix on a nice walk to the park. You arive all limbs still in socket, and most nerves still intact. You get into the "unleashing area" with a little confusion, but make it ok; unleash; and realease dogs. Marley goes dashing off to meet other dogs as usual, penny turns immediately and wants me to throw the ball... After wading through the sand (why do they have sand at a dog park?) avoiding the wet sand and any poos, we pick a spot to be "home base". I throw the ball a few times. Penny is amazingly good at this, and surprisingly specific. I'm not sure if it's because mom and dad are gone, but she must have HER ball, none other will do and she will sniff and rule out EVERY other ball at the park till she finds hers. Penny doesn't have a mean bone in her body which is what makes this next part even more frightening... She can't find her ball. Some little Boston Terrier got confused and picked it up by mistake and now Penny is frantic and half insane looking for HER BALL. Some dog goes up to her to investigate what is causing this frienzy and out of nowhere, Deamon Dog jumps out possesing Penny and she is in a fight.

I grew up with dogs. Goldens, Beagles, Poodles, Boxers, all kinds. You learn to tell real quickly when they are play fighting and when they mean business. It's a different more stomachy growel, and the way they show their teeth is wolf-like. Now imagine me, 23 wks prego, stepping in-between these two dogs who way almost as much as me and pulling them appart. I swear it was instinct. I put Penny in a submission hold and straddeled her so the other dog couldn't get her... I knew she would submit because she's a sweet heart and just really freaked out about her ball. The other dog just walked away (thank God!).

Adrenaline is now pumping and I help Penny find her ball after she lays there for a while to calm down. I'm not sure if it's because of my energy or what, but a few minutes later, Marely, who is usually totally social and a really good wrester gets gang banged by like 4 dogs 3 X her size. I watch for a while knowing she can take care of herself, but finally, realizing her body language has changed (hackels up, tail tucked, going for the throat) I step in and again, force submission, let a dog or two smell her as I "claim" her with my body language, and let them walk away. The worst part? Not a single other owner was getting involved! Long story short, Penny and Marley will be playing in the yard for the next few days. lol.

Ah, the excitment of life!

ode to Gramps

I was riding in my miata with the top down and the wind in my hair on my way to fun in the sun for the fourth of July. What could be better than this? I turned on the radio to the oldies....memories flooded my mind bringing a fresh smile with each memory. i was back in Grandpa's garage. So clean and smooth the cement under my feet, relief from the hot sun. That unique smell of old Marlboro, gasoline, grease, and wood.... Then the hot dogs, the corn on the cob...the year we picked our own straight from the corn stalk and there were worms in my cob... slip and slide, jacuzzi, bad mitten, croquett, hoola-hoop... the year grandpa proved cats could walk on water by throwing Josie into the jacuzzi. Cousins, Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents.. Every year the same. Then suddenly, without anyone asking us if it was ok with us, we were all grown up. Thank you Grandpa and Grandma for all the good memories. I love you! Happy 4th of July!

out of this world

i cannot describe how strange it is to have another person inside of you. I could spend hours just staring at my own belly waiting for the next kick, or punch, or somersault... i want to see it happen, and feel it, and tell Olive she's doing a good job. i wonder so often exactly what it's like for her. She knows my voice now and knows my ballet music CD (she dances when i teach); the books say she can feel and taste and hear and maybe through some strange "through my mom's senses" osmosis smell too. Strange! Yet all of this is happening underwater so to speak. Her kidneys have taken over flitering and refreshing the amniotic fluid, though most waste still goes through my blood and kidneys. She's already doing all of this and she won't even be full term for another 15 weeks! Sucking her thumb, feeling her face, playing with her umbilical cord...and all of it hidden from me exept for occasional bumps and pushes out to my world from hers. I can't wait to meet her. I can't wait to watch her explore the outside world. : ) Here's to the joys of pregnancy. Thank God for 2nd trimesters!!!

realizations

I know I'm geting closer to actual parenthood because of a shift of late. For a first trimester and a half I was so overwhelmed with my plan and the changes that had been forced on it. Of course I was worried about what would be best for this baby, but more commonly my thoughts tended toward myself. For me abortion was never an option. This is life hidden inside me, and I asked it not to be but it was and is. I now understand why so many people make the hard choice to kill. The other day (at a bar embarassingly enough) I mourned for Olive. I mourned over the kind of world I'm bringing her into. I mourned for her the lack of a family unit. I mourned for her a daddy to watch her enter the world; I mourned for her the ability to watch her daddy and mommy love each other and her teaching her what love looks and feels like. I mean, even if baby daddy is involved it won't be pretty... dual custody never is. Each parent thinks they're the ones doing it right and wants to be the favorite and baby usually hates mom because she has primary custody.

I was a daddy's girl growing up (until Hannah that is). I used to wake up early while my daddy was in the shower and go curl up by the shower door just so i could be near him. I have camping memories, singing the Christopher Robin song, I remember him carrying me on his shoulders, I remember watching him kiss my mommy and knowing we were all happy together... Olive will not know this. I will fight to keep her safe, I will fight to hide from her any arguing that her father and I may do (if he's involved), I will do all I can to be honest but hopeful for her...but the reality isn't very pretty. I mourn for her loss and she's not even born yet. I trust that a chance to experience life and the goodness of God in this life is worth any disfuction you may grow up in, but I feel so guilty for the kind of life I have to offer Olive. It's not one I would force on anyone, yet in a way, I guess I'm forcing it on her. Maybe it is a selfish choice to not concider adoption, but my heart wouldn't let me go there. So now I start to view the world through her eyes.. I have to trust that God's soverign grace in deciding to overide my b.c. to make this little person flourish inside of me will put grace around her to shield her from the reality I own.

May God bless her and keep her. May he make His face to shine upon her. May she walk in His grace.

Time Flies

I was shocked today when I looked at a facebook profile of a kid I used to babysitt. True, I wasn't too much more than a baby when I watched them the first time, maybe 11? Still, I watched them for some time. His baby sister took her first steps into my arms, and I played baseball and ghost in the graveyard, and dress-up (thought the boys won't own up to that one i bet) with them for years. I used to have visions of myself growing up near them, our lives intertwined; My wedding, thier graduations, first girl-friends.... then I moved 1,000 miles away. Somehow time kept flying by. He has a girlfriend, not sure if it's his first, but he says he loves her. I'm not married, and he probably won't even know about it if it ever happens. I remember him showing me his hockey gear the first year he played. He was so excited, and very awaire of his cup and how odd it was to have a hard crotch. lol, if only his girlfriend could watch that interaction...hahah.
Ryan Lutu told me once to never loose track of little Heather. How would big Heather look in the eyes of little Heather. Would she be respected or worshiped the way little kids do? Or would big H be someone little H resented, knew somehow to despise and avoid? My life didn't turn out as I'd planned. I thought I was moving away to dance and I was really moving away to kill myself; kill who I had been for 18 years, who I thought I'd be... Through the small choices into the huge choices, around the choices that seemed small and inconsequential enough to where and who I am today. 23, single, pregnant, dancer/teacher, some peoples' friend, my mother's daughter...
I remember when it happened, when I stoped dreaming about the future. I lost all hope of beauty and joy and just clung to survival. It took 3 years of emotional recovery from that point before I "planned" again. Those plans failed too. I don't know what hope looks like without dreams, I guess that's the flaw here. Plans and dreams are ALWAYS dissapointed, how do you find hope that doesn't let down ?
I just found it... Romans 5: 1-5 "Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whome he has given us. "
So by suffering basically.. ugh! I guess I find myself lacking in character. I'll put that on my to-do list. Sorry to anyone who actually reads this, this is more of a rant than a blog; sometimes I need to write to process... the true conflict takes a while to make itself known to me and writing often acts as a catayst to that process. I need Hope. I need it badly. I don't like who big Heather is shaping up to be...

miserable

I can't tell you how miserable i've been over the last 3 days. My nose has been running like a leaky faucet; it just doesn't stop. I will die of dehydration soon I'm sure... I mean, how can a human body produce this much snot? I can't take allergy medication except for Benadryl which my Dr. also perscribes as a sleeping aid durring pregnancy. So i can look like a crack-head with a raw, red, runny nose, or I can look like a pot-head with eyes half mast unable to keep my head up... great! I've had allergy attacks before. Once I went hoarse from sneezing so much then had to baby sit quintuplets and thier 3 friends (with no voice). Oh, I was 15. : ) Another time my asthma flaired up and I had to sit over a cup of steaming black tea just to breath. Normally though, it's one bad day and then reprieve. I'm going on day 3 here with no signs of it letting up....will someone please cut my head off? Or cottarize my nostrils or something! I can't take it any more! So much for a nice vacation... pthth

Holy Spirit Movin'

So, I'm scared shitless of moving to LA. I will be alone there. I will be stuck there. I will be isolated and out of context. I still know it's the right choice. I was on the phone last night with my mum and daddy. I "listen" for Olive all the time now, somewhat subconsciously and somewhat intentionally. She had been quiet all day except for little flutters here and there practicing for 4 months from now. When Daddy got on the phone she started dancing, and kept it up the whole time I was on the phone with both Mum and Dad. She quieted down as soon as I was off the phone and when Mum called me back to tell a couple of stories she'd forgotten, Olive started right back up again. Now, I know this seems like silly re-assurance but here's the thing; remember the story of Mother Mary visiting her cousin Elizabeth? Elizabeth was carrying John (St. John the Baptist) at the time and he lept inside of her, this caused Elizabeth to prophesy and Mary to write a song of Praise recorded in Luke 1:46-56. I believe that the Holy Spirit enters our being early in the whole conseption process. King David wrote of this a few times in the Psalms (139:13-15 for instance) as does Jeremiah (Jeremiah 1:4-5). I think that deep cries out to deep, and the innocence of my Olive responds more clearly to the Holy Spirit in others than my muddled soul could hope to. In life I've learned to trust God for many things; money, living arrangements, food, a job. Those things have become easy to trust about for the mere realization that I have no controle no matter how much I worry about. Happiness, friendship, community, these things are still in the "not so sure" catergory. Mostly because in live I've been alone, depressed, and isolated before for long periods of time. I'm trying now to surrender this too. Pray for me.

rush hour traffic

so, i get that none of us wants to loose a child or lover or friend to a flu, but I'm pretty sure H1M1 was supposed to take out a few thousand people in the US alone. I mean, have any of you sat on the 5 in rush hour traffic lately? There are just too many people on this earth!! It took me an hour to get to the theatre on Friday; there was an average of 5 mph speed on BOTH sides of the freeway. I left LA because I hated being surrounded by that many unhappy people and now Portland is in a hot second to LA traffic. We need another killer flu or war or something horrible like that.
on a happier note, both my school's shows are done and they each did a great job! Yay girls and guys! On to Nutcracker :(

an anomaly

For all of my life I've been an anomaly. I was the only Christian Homeschooled ballet student at my studio...or maybe in existence, I haven't figured out yet. I've always been one of the only (non-musician) artist in a given church; Christians don't understand good art unfortunately even though it's reflecting God's own beauty and excellence. I'm too liberal for my theology and to religeous for my liberal friends. I can't find a good Christian man who's not bland and luke warm like the church has taught us to be... I can't find a good secualr man who knows the value and beauty of pursuing God with his whole self. My bizarre qualities have ended friendships, relationships, and made countless situations awkward. Now, my life is continuing its patern. I'm pregnant. and single. ugh!
I've always hated the dividing of single and coupled people, but it happens. No one wants to be a third wheel, so of course, couples hang out with couples so that no one is "odd man out". Then there's the singles. We rarely invite the coupled out because we know they'll say no. I mean really, all of them would rather be cuddeling on a couch watching TV or eating an intimate dinner than out hearing good beats and dance and drink and socialize. Most people (especially once they're coupled) see the "going out" scene as a means to an end; meet someone, be happy, leave the scene. I was the one friend who goes out when coupled, often without my other half. I guess it's because I don't use the scene as a way to pick my meat.
Then there's the parent squad. You see it all the time. I felt it when I babysat. People assumed Hadessa and Landon were mine, and they became nicer, softer, and almost treated me with pitty. These moms bind together like a MOPS team with such importance. I just can't see myself there. I understand the comradery of having the same job, like when I meet another dance instructor. But when it comes down to it, there are such differences in styles and situations I can't imagine blending in.
Well, oh well. Here comes anther wedge to sepparate me farther from the world, to make me more unique : ) I hope i survive!

The dreams continue...

so last night I had a strange dream (big surprise right?). I was still not looking pregnant but knew I was in labor. I wasn't really worried because for some reason even though I had only a small pooch, I knew I wasn't overly pre-mature. Labor was painless and fast. The baby was a boy ( I guess)... it was a cross between Curby and this little toy pig my cousin had back when I baby sat her. It was about 2 inches (smaller than my actual baby is now). Life went on and I named him Judah though some of my friends and family seemed surprised that I'd name this oddity what I'd planned to name my baby. My mom and dad were having an argument about something, some issue between the two of them, and off-handedly (sort of to get rid of me) told me it's normal, all babys look like that at first. When I nursed him or when he first woke up he would swell up like Curby right before he flys. Where does this shit come from? Someone please explain why pregnant women dream such odd things?

paterns

AS I was listening to Pandora.com doing my AM workout routine, perfectly content as sunlight streamed in my appartment window I realized... I'm always content this time of year. I'm usually in a relationship, and always happy. In November it's been my patern of late to have a breakup or if the relationship does survive to the following summer then there's at least severe upheaval.. Jan/Feb brings new romance.. Summer contentment, winter upheaval. This November I'll be having the most painful "upheaval" and "breakup" i've ever experienced; my baby will be divorcing my body and discovering its own. This Spring I'll fall in love with baby more and more as it recognizes faces and voices and places and colors a little more each day. Summer will bring bliss as baby and i will (hopefully) be a bit more mobile.
Maybe baby will end my tumultuous relationship cycles and bring stability. I'm tired of November break-ups.

The future

Up until this weekend I was so consumed with what my future is becoming that I hadn't put a second thought into what I used to think my future would look like. Until this weekend. Shit!
I mean really! I'm a planner. I'd been waiting for YEARS to turn 24 so that the government would stop looking at my parents' money (which wouldn't help me) so that I could get sufficient financial aid to go to college without dying of debt. I guess the upside is that a 24 year old single mom gets even more financial aid (right?). Saving for some space of my own (pah! that's funny!). Gaining a few more years of Director's experience : lighting, tech, etc so that by 2012 I could be my own director or at least know for sure that I never want to be one : ) Then, somehow, with perfect timing, while all of this was falling neatly into place, I would meet Prince Charming : ) my family would love him, my friends would adore him. by the time I was done with school we'd be ready to have babys...bah!! i'm actually laughing right now. (i hope you are too)
My only hope is that my Father knows better than I do what my best possible future is; that since I was as little as my baby is today (4.5 inches btw) that He had a plan for me. A plan to prosper me, and that He's not checked out now. *sigh* realizing that you have no controle over your life is a crazy feeling.

prego stories...

This story is not for the easily disgusted...in fact, Maco, stop reading now : )
The second trimester is God's gift to pregnancy I'm sure. I no longer need a 2 hr nap in the middle of each day, I can eat a little less cautiously, since nausia is lessening.. It's amazing! I have loved not vomiting once or twice a day... which brings me to my story.
Some things still trigger the stomach; strong smells are one, not eating with enough frequency is another. I had had a great day and came home about 12:30 (which would have been impossible two weeks ago) to find a gift from Marley to greet me... It wasn't that bad, just the normal vomiting except...i had to pee!!! well, that didn't last long. The pregnant woman's bladder is such a fickle thing. Some days I can pee every 30 minutes and never be good to go while days like today I can be out on Sauvies miles from a restroom and just fine for 5 hrs. Oh well. I'm gonna do my best to not vomit or pee myself again any time soon... : (

Growing up in the 21st century

I was pondering the other day the advice our parents give us. When i was as young as 12 my mom always told me, "I went from being the daughter of my mother to the mother of my daughter. Take time to be just you". Sage advice it seemed. So for the last 7 years I've been just me (more or less). Now I find that with myself as with many other single 20-somethings we are aboundingly selfish and self-consumed. It's not our fault really, it was the advice we were given more or less. I wonder for those of us who followed this path if we will suddenly learn to be selfless and die to our desires and preferences once we meet "the one", or once we have kids for that matter. I regularly see mothers in Starbucks who still haven't learned to shut up and listen yet.. their toddler is interupting their cell-phone conversation asking insatiably for affection, attention, and love meanwhile mum keeps ignoring while sipping ther perfect non-fat foam off her sugar-free vanilla late. Is it worth it? For the selfish one i'm sure it is, if someone else is somehow able to cleave to them dispite their (our) selfish tendencies. But what about for her child? I guess that's why we have public schools now where the teachers are the nurturers and true child raisers... if only the selfish knew what we were missing out on!
The other generational myth I'm analizing is the whole date around syndrome. It starts as young as Jr. High for some students though I didn't get my first kiss 'till I was 18. As a kid, you know you're not going to be with this person forever, in fact it often lasts only as long as the first fight. Then we move on...and on... and we bind a little more strongly each time trying to reassure ourselves that this is love... that this time I am in love, that I even am acapable of being in love. but still, we move on again. So, again in this situation, how often do we suddenly change when we meet "the one"? is there even a ONE? for each of us? My parents married when my mom was 20 and pregnant... they are the most in love people I know even though it's no the Disney story we all hope for. My Grandma was fresh out of highschool....she had to get written consent from my great-grandma. My grandparents are more in love now than ever before. So maybe we have it wrong. Maybe it's easier or better or more noble to discover who you can be with this other person or in this situation rather than discovering who you are on your own two feet. My Daddy always said my problem was that I wanted autonomy not independance... I realize now that I want freedom to be spontaneous, but I want someone by my side who wants to do it with me.
I think my advice to my little one will be more along these lines. You can be great in many situations. Single, coupled, married, as a parent or teacher or wanderer. Don't think that any one of these situations defines you, or that you need one specifically to be truely you. Find yourself in Him in all situations. Even if you're alone, be selfless. If there's someone to edify then be edified by the mutual edificaion you can achieve together. Always love.

Romantic Thoughts

I had Sarah McLaughlan's song "Do What You Have To Do" stuck in my head today and decided to listen to it to get it out of my head... I liked her alot when I was 18, but now... anyhoo, It was a total flashback:
Walking downtown Portland, with my big parka (I still have it btw) and my ipod with one ear phone in (I was rather wary of being jumped) blasting sad love songs. Of course, it was about Evan Jones. I was sure when my family disowned me that love would make everything right again...little did I know the kind of love that it would take to fix my situation then. He'd come back from basic changing his tune from "I love you, I want to marry you, I can't wait to kiss you on our wedding day" etc. to "I just can't be with you right now" (I love the right now clause...it keeps the booty open for future booty calls just in case either of you gets desparate). I didn't get it. It was my first time around this marry-go-round that I now know so well. I thought he'd meant what he said before, and I thought maybe after Afghanistan he would be ready to be with me for real...Sad, sad little Heather.
The next time I dove that far head-over-heals it was for my best friend's cousin. Since then I've become jaded and resentful of other's true love. I wonder, fearfully, if that giddy feeling should be avoided due to the stupid things it can inspire, or if it should be embraced as a rare and priceless gift? not that my heals are over my head at just this moment, just prepairing myself for the hopeful eventuality. Or maybe that's a thing of youth and ignorance and I won't ever encounter it again...
Another thing: could someone please convert a beautiful, socially fluent, motivated, supportive person, I'm pretty sure the church has either married them all off or outlawed them...not sure why but either way. Oh, and could they be ok with someone who's had a baby with a fling? Great! Thanks!

ugh

I'm having a day... you know those days that you just won't be satisfied? I feel like a total alien, and there's nothing I can do about it. The church I've been attending for 5 years still isn't home to me, not one person there besides Erin and Brent know my name and no one cares. There was a family visiting for a few weeks who had a trauma and the church is now totally involved (don't get me wrong, the church is doing what they should always do in this case) . The think that gets selfish me is that not a soul there cares about my trauma. It's as though I am not a valuable member of that society because I don't have a husband or child (yet). 5 years! I took communion and shouldn't have... I was having second thoughts anyways because I feel like communion should be enjoyed with "family". The blessing I was given was, "this is the body of Christ broken for you"... I wanted to say duh! Could you give me something more? Something I haven't had memorized since I was 6? Could you truly bless me with a truth like, This is Christs body broken for you, his blood covers your sins of promiscuity, and adultery, you are clean child.... but no, no one there knows me...
I didn't go to Polaris because I knew that in that mood, I'd feel like an alien from Mars there. I'm out of so many loops these days...
I drove to Vancouver to buy myself consolatory "cheesy bread" and they were closed. Closed! Come on! what's the point of living in a pagan society if you can't have stores open on Sundays?!? We have no holy days people, we're America, the land of self-worship! I was peeved.
Either way, my day is over early. I thought I had #3 rehearsal, but it was canceled since the OBT school show is today. I have to do laundry for Utah, and go shopping, and pancake my shoes, and sew an extra pair in case...ugh! All I want to do is eat cheesy bread and sleep. : (

Stuff

Time has come to a slow crawl... kept track of only by weekends (dreaded weekends). I love the sun, but every time it comes out there's a small bit of resentment in me knowing it's just a tease and will be gone again soon for longer than it was here. I'm ready for summer. I sold my motorcycle, but at least I can still take my hard top off and feel the wind in my hair. I want summer!!

Love

Lately i can't wait to be in love. Not that stupid, infatuated, giddy, sweaty, walking-on-air feeling; the I know every grubby, ugly, offensive reality about you and I love you! I can't wait to look someone in the eye and know for a fact that we're going to share the rest of our lives. The love I grew up watching resonate between my parents. The love I saw, well aged, well worn, between my grandparents. I can't wait for that. I don't know who he is, or where he is, or how old he is, but I'm gonna stop looking; as counter-intuitive as that is, I'm gonna trust that he'll find me. I'm done with test drives, trial runs, playing house and all the like. I'm holding out for the real thing. Wish me luck! Call me insane. It's like that Postal Service song... "I've got it covered in cans of food, filtered water and pictures of you, and I'm not coming out until this is all over"

meaninglessness

It's amazing to me the things we hold on to as people... My routine, my freedom, my friends, my motorcycle (which is running again!!), my singleness... My mom visited this last weekend and I was so happy to see her, but I had to deal with holding on to some of those things. The few days before it was a frenzy of cleaning, scrubbing, laundering, making sure that everything mum saw made her proud. Not that I'm normally a dirty person, just an organized messy type. The first night she was here as we were falling asleep, I had a little panic moment; I'm not used to sharing my bed or my space or my time frames, and I was overly worried about not encroaching onto her side of the bed. I had to remind myself that it's only a few days. I was shocked by the silliness of this because for two solid months I'd been looking forward to her visit. I love my mom and she gets me like no one else (but maybe a friend or two). The days, of course, passed by too quickly; she was my teaching companion, she watched 6.5 hrs. of teaching/rehearsing on Saturday and was actually interested :) we went grocery shopping and made dinners, and saw a movie... we broke a blender making humus and bought a new one. It was all the fun and good I knew it would be, then she left.
I love waiting at airports. The hellos are the best part of life; excitement, anticipation, so much highly wound energy. The goodbyes are much worse. I meet my mom inside for the hello, I drop her off for the goodbye... we both always cry and there are those looks that say way more than "I love you" or "I'll miss you" says. So last night, and this morning, I have to let go of that routine... of waking up and mum being here. Of having her to talk to through the morning routine or decide what to do with, or read a book with. I am so bad a letting go...
The irony of all this adjusting is that in the long run, it's meaningless. I love my mom and will love her no matter how many miles between us. We can talk or e-mail or facebook :) And my schedule ans space and bed and all of those things I shared are meaningless too because as anxious as I was about them being "disturbed" they were way better once they were... our ideas of good and normal and happy and so on and so forth are meaningless! So I guess I just keep enjoying what it looks like now no matter how much that may change in the next instant.

sick storries

Ok, so I'm on this medication that has to be taken every 6 hours. If you think about it, there's no convenient way to do that at night since we're supposed to sleep 8 and the doctors said "get as much rest as possible"... well, I take mine at 1 and 7. So last night at 1 am my alarm goes off for me to take my pill...half awake I stumble to the kitchen, down a pill and a gulp of water. Done!
For the next 1.5 hrs I have creepy dreams about pills: doctors gave me moldy pills, or they're exploding inside of me etc. I wake up with a horrible pain in my lower esophagus. I remember the doctor explaining to me that this particular drug kills bacteria..which is good BUT, it kills a wide range of bacteria, even the ones in your digestive tract so it could cause problems... I immediately imagine this is it..there are no more working bacteria in my stomach so it's all backing up into my throat, like a bad toilet.. then I wake up a little more and realize that that stupid pill probably got lodged and is now dissolving in my throat. So I eat some tortilla, drink some water, and down some tums and go back to sleep... end of story

Sick

Being sick is boring.. after Oprah is done there's nothing on but news..and that's depressing. They're all talking about the woman who just had 8 kids and the 13 year old who was murdered by the sex offender who never should have gotten out of prison.
I can't imagine having 15 kids.... I can't even afford to take myself to the doctors much less 15 kids in for regular checkups and immunizations and such.. just wow.
I think I'm going to re-read Romans so that when Maco contests my previous blog I can have a good response :)

homework

so, i'm sitting here watching Sleeping Beauty by the Royal Ballet, and it so re-assures me that I'm glad I didn't chase after a career in ballet for longer... can you imagine? After years of hard work and determination, you get to wear a big poofy dress on stage and walk around in a pattern... or, if you're really lucky, you get to be one of 10 on stage in a tutu, doing balance and arabesque. That just wouldn't do it for me... and on top of it, you still have to starve yourself for the privalege of doing that arabesque... ugh!
I don't like classical ballet. I like teaching it, I like doing classes, and using classical ballet in Contemporary or neo-classical dances.. But the full length classical bellts just bore me.
On a totally different note, maternal instincts are funny! I'm suddenly in nesting mode again. Is it 'cause it's spring time again? Sigh, I haven't felt this way for a while.... I guess Marely has stopped satiating my baby need. : {
Also, a student of mine peed in the middle of class yesterday. I remember being about 10 and a girl peeing in a class I was taking, and thinking, "how did she not leave the room sooner?" I guess there's a level of intimidation in asking the teacher to leave weather it comes from being shy or out of fear that you didn't fufull your responsibility to take care of business before class...I don't know, but I do know poor little sofia was EMBARRASED!

St. Valentines

It's funny to me that we have a whole day nationally celebrated that is based off of a rumor. St. Valentine (or a plural group of saints perhaps) aren't even recognized by the Catholic Church because you can't find out anything about them. The rumor is that said St. Valentine was caught marrying Christian couples. At the time helping Christians was illegal, so he was martyred.
I like saints. I'm not sure theologically how I feel about them, but ideologically, I love them. Someone who's feet have trodden where ours have not, both on this earth and in the next life... someone who, like an elder, can pray for us (though, if Jesus Himself is interceding, do we really need more help?). I think the idea of certain patrons helps me focus on my specific issues. It's way too easy to blow through life without self-examination. Saints help me think about specific weaknesses in my personal character.
St. Valentine does not. I would marry Christians any day. Duh!
So Happy V-Day

natural ryhthm

I used to run. When I quit dance and gained 15 lbs. I decided now was a good time in life to be ok with bulkey quads (better than bulky fat). I loved it. It was empowering, exhausting, aggressive, and gave me a sense of accomplishment. I loved driving the rout I'd run to find out how far I'd made it. I think my record was 17 miles...which for me is alot. It's funny that I only ran for myself after my knee surgury which eventually made it too painful for me to run consistently. I probably would have liked it alot durring those years when my dad was unemployed, my oldest brother was had dissapeared somewhere in Biola, Nick and Mum were depressed, and Daddy (besides being unemployed) had been diagnosed with Diabetes. I'm pretty sure Hannah was just being Hannah durring that period, obstinant and difficult as ever. I would have liked to run then too I think.
I got a dog that was half beagle. I didn't really think about the implications of this until I had her and she was healed from her bowel issues and ready to RUN!! And let me tell you she can run. She makes dogs at the dog park do laps with her...it's soo cute! Her head bobs and her legs reach for the next bound. She loves it. We usually walk daily, but lately I've realized it's not quite enough exertion for her, we come home and she still has enough energy to play with Fitz and ask me to throw the ball. Today we ran. Went down to water front, put on the headphones, found a pace and just went with it. (Marley is now taking a nap on the couch next to me = ) I thought it was funny watching the other runners. I can't run for any length of time without an outside tempo set for me (such as music). There were these two guys who were in front of me for a while who were in perfect sinc...perfect! Arms sway, shoulders rocking, exactly identical. I laughed thinking how long I work with my dancers to make them do even one combination in perfect sinc. (p.s. i don't know how to spell sinc, synk, sink) lol.
I started noticing that all around me there were people running to the same inaudible melody...the song playing on my ipod matched with everyone's natural rhythm...now, i know that's because a 2/4 is the rhythm of the heart (four chambers, 2 sounds) but still, it's pretty awesome. It makes me sad to think that people with so much in common (humanity) have such a hard time relating sometimes. Agreeing is not as important to me as understanding...we need to listen more to the other person's beat, and then maybe we'd realize what we have in common.
I like running

Romans 9

It's ironic because I was just talking about this issue with my friend Evan last weekend, but I'm reading through Romans with reformed commentary, and bumped into Romans 9 today. So, basically, Paul says, God chooses before you're born whom He will Love and whom he will hate (using Jacob and Esau as examples). This means God's favor is not dependent on our actions.... which is good for most of us as we are all hopelessly sinful (duh!). But here's the clincher.. if it's only by grace that any of us find favor, and God punishes the sins of those he chooses to hate, why is it those peoples' fault?? I mean, take Pharaoh for example. Was so close to letting the Israelites go quite a few times, but then God hardens his heart and now he's gonna be held accountable for that. Now Paul also uses clay as an example. The potter gets to decide if it's gonna be an favored ash tray, or a piss pot, or a goblet used by a king. O.K. I get that, it works, but then, isn't the piss pot just being virtuous by being used for "low" tasks? Aren't they just doing what God decided ahead of time they would do? So who's fault is it really?
Now, don't get me wrong, I know that my sin is my sin! I know that I can (at least as far as I know) choose to do right. But it's more the idea of Salvation that seems "unfair". I guess it's like the Newsboys said it "when we don't get what we deserve, it's a real good thing, a real good thing, when we get what we don't deserve, it's a real good thing..."

Entitlement

Isn't it funny how people bond? Watching dogs at a dog park it makes sense. One dog is dominant, another follows.. some wrestle for the title, but in general, certain dogs play together well, others are outsiders, or simply oblivious... I like the herding dogs best because they've always got a job to do : )
I wish people could be more like that. Find their place so easily and contentedly. Instead we feel entitled to certain things. Especially in the romantic sense. Maybe it's just me but I have to fight myself from feeling like ex's are still my territory. I get jealous! Now, I know a lot of people would tell me that's because we're only designed to share ourselves that intimately with one person, so jealousy is a correct and natural reaction... still, I have the dilemma. It doesn't even mater if I'm happy to not be with them, I want them to be mine. I guess that's going back to original sin...wanting to be my own demi-god. Sigh
"that good which I want to do I don't do.. and that evil which I don't want to do I do"
St. Paul

God save me from myself!