Tuesday, December 29

knowing - matt 7

it's easy to toss around. "stop judging me!" "I like it when ppl don't judge me, when they just accept me for who i am."

blah blah blah

as a former co-worker said (loose paraphrase), "stop whining about ppl judging you. sometimes you're just wrong and that's that!"

so here i am at 1:30 tuesday afternoon. 3 months into a new job. i've done a LOAD of judging. for me it's really simple. "to form an opinion or conclusion about." nothing wrong with that stuff. what IS wrong is when i keep going beyond a basic opinion or conclusion, when i move from, "that was unkind" to "that was unkind, he should know better, he's clearly incompetent, he doesn't deserve xyz." oooo. now that's not cool. check out my plank!

now here's another side to the basic judgment issue, the issue of knowing.

when i discover that he or she is unkind, i'm not going to readily embrace. now my guard is up. i'm going to try to give the benefit of the doubt...perhaps there's something else the person was dealing with that caused them to be unkind to me. i'll try not to take it personally. but if it was really really bad and if it's consistent, my guard is definitely up.

i refuse to act blindly. i refuse to throw pearls to pigs. using my brain is quite biblical.

Monday, December 28

belief

i often begin thinking about work 5 minutes after i become fully conscious in the morning. it's a great reminder that i actually care about my job. on the other hand, it's often a reminder that i'm overwhelmed as my job's various realities crash into my personal need to simply adjust to my new life. this morning is a crash morning. and as my head becomes clouded by stress i tell myself to stop yet find some sort of terrible satisfaction in attempting to control the cloud.

and then i read Matthew 6:25-34--do not worry.

i could conclude that i'm just supposed to live in the moment. but no. i should still plan for tomorrow but not get caught up in the uncertainties of tomorrow. that's where the crash occurs. if i knew exactly what would happen i like to think i'd be okay. but i'd probably still experience this crazy worried state. so i've just got to get into the habit of asking God for direction, doing my part and leaving the rest alone.

leave the rest alone. stop trying to control the future. stop it. stop. God's got this. the consequences of unbelief will drive me mad.

Sunday, December 27

the day i stopped crying

i'll have to start getting all my facts straight then write them down...be intentional about healing. who knew you could feel so deeply at 11? at that age, you're supposed to be fighting the drab effects of puberty not vowing to never return to a country that had become your home, your family, your life. i've always been a bit of a drama queen on the inside, creating false realities with my penchant for romantic tales. there is nothing romantic about civil war in your back yard. yet leaving isn't easy.


19 years later and still unable to feel positively toward Liberia, i need to return. go home. because the day i vowed never to return is probably the day i stopped crying.


it's not a good way to live.

treasure

these days i read my Bible without the guilt of "thou shalt read your Bible" that i grew up nurturing and with the true desire to read b/c i know it's essential. i'm finally in Matthew, unable to complete a chapter each day b/c there's so much goodness in a section. take Matthew 6:19-24 for example. yeah, yeah, yeah. treasure. i shouldn't focus on money. money and evil go hand in hand. i should focus on heaven. yeah. yeah. yeah.


no.


i'm too old to take such a brash approach that's not even biblical but has become my interpretation of this passage and feeds guilt. why don't i enjoy focusing on heaven? why does this passage seem like an unattainable ideal? b/c my interpretation isn't biblical. if it were, it would be accessible and applicable.


so.


today i read it much differently. i've been spending a lot of money lately. start-up costs. and i'm basically tired now of spending but i still have basic things to buy. like a bed. and i've grown tired of thinking about quality, quantity, style, color, size, etc. i just want to finish setting up my apartment before i reach the 6th month mark.


so today, my head really got excited when i read that it's better to store up treasures in a place where there's no theft or decay. no renter's insurance needed. and everything there will be the best quality ever. but i'm not interested in the aesthetics of heaven, anyway. i'm interested in meeting God and asking many questions. i'm interested in experiencing corporate worship in heaven b/c i think it's such a vital part of our God-connection. and since heaven is a place of peace, it helps me realize that in all my shopping, earth can become even more chaotic than it already is. too many decisions. not enough time. plus i'd really like to be saving more.


conclusion? create a spreadsheet of all the things i still need to purchase. need to. not want to. price them. think about wear and tear and be sensible not cheap. think about being the minimalist i so desire to be (and currently am based on my apt's present holdings), then finish expending all this money energy. b/c what's really making the process a pain is that i'm unable to focus all my energy on the things i really treasure as the shopping list becomes a sort of treasure when i become tied to a particular item that i really don't need to purchase.


yes, this post may be a bit confusing. no worries. it's for me more than it is for you. =)


thank you God for the time to work through this and the amazing way your Word continues to be real to our lives. and the more often we read it, the more applicable it becomes. interesting. so true.

Thursday, November 12

together

there's something wonderful about orchestrating change on your own but something far more noble when the cause is driven by a collective...me and you and you and you and you... but how together can we really be?

Karen Armstrong seeks to use the Golden Rule as a connecting point at which all religions can unite and do the good they're meant to do. and as they seek the common good their differences will no longer divide them. my question is this: what if not only like my differences but believe my differences are worth not only holding on to but sharing? this summer my mum cooked a simple but amazingly scrumptious dinner. it was so good that i felt others would truly benefit in a holistic manner from eating it b/c it not only fed me physically but emotionally/mentally and yes, spiritually. good food is that powerful.

as is some of what makes me different from other Christians. i don't want to let the good stuff go but i do want to do unto others as i would have them do unto me. so please allow me to walk beside you and do good with you but don't ask me to let go of what i think is essential even if it ruffles your feathers.

Sunday, October 18

pain changes you, it's true

when something rocks your world, so to speak, you never forget. some parts of you heal properly. nevertheless, various parts of you seem forever unsettled and you forever view the world through those unsettled parts.

consequently, the pain you see in others is inevitably (though often unrelated) your pain on display...an interesting phenomenon.

and if you still feel it, you know you'll never say those unfortunate words: i understand. coz no one understands yours.

and it's okay after a while. you can't expect the world to feel you--that's unfair. and you know that not everything happens for some explicable reason though God can work it out for good.

pain offers a perspective that never existed before your world got rocked.

i'm okay with that.


http://topnews.in/health/files/pain-and-depression.jpg

Monday, September 28

more...

Last night I dreamed that I was at a beach with huge dunes that stood in stark contrast to a short beach area. Most people were at the shore, playing in the water. Two people I remember vividly were my younger brother and sister. Everything was fine and everyone was having a good time until I saw gigantic tsunami waves approaching. I remember being the only one to notice them, yelling at everyone to run up the dunes. As I yelled, I ran and others followed as quickly as they could. Everyone made it up the dunes before the waves hit--what a relief!

But I woke up really distressed. We were all okay but I hadn't actually helped anyone up the dunes. My brother helped my sister and others helped each other. But I was only focused on yelling and running...

I tried to go back to sleep and eventually drifted off, attempting to make sense of the dream. Why hadn't I grabbed a hand? Why was I so focused being a messenger but of no physical use though I was physically able? Was it enough that I'd warned everyone?

Was it enough?

Are you wondering if what you do for others or for God is enough? Are you concerned that you should be doing more but you're not sure what "more" looks like?

For now, I've concluded that: a) I shouldn't beat myself up just yet, and b) I should thank God for making me aware of my need to never lose sight of "more."

Thursday, September 17

wonder (as opposed to wander)

God.

some say the name out of frustration. i say the name out of wonder. i'm anxious for something to be resolved and long before it's resolved i've received the peace that passes all understanding. God-peace. and i'm transported to wonder.

how? why? and who am i? (psalm 8)

God. i just want to say i love you Lord. and thank you. you've got things under control. i'm confident in this. (isaiah 41:10)

Monday, August 31

the new way to take inches off your thighs

just ride 115 kilometers with minimal rest stops. trust me. i'm pretty sure i lost inches. the scale says i only lost a couple of pounds but the mirror says, "you weren't this skinny before!"

i'm just sayin...

Tuesday, August 25

why i ride

it's not for the wind through my hair or the unexpected gravel through my gears. it's for the time alone, the outdoor perspective...the knowledge that i can.

about 7 years ago i thought about buying a road bike. i was living in chicago and an add for the annual midnight ride caught my attention. a fellow city dweller encouraged my desire to ride and i kept on saying, "i'm going to get a bike." it became a promise. "i will get a bike." i even went to a bike store, but alas, i moved away bikeless.

my reasons for not committing were varied. money was often limited but then unexpected left eye blindness struck. it sort of sealed the no deal, voided the check, etc. after all, riding through a city with limited depth perception didn't seem like a bright idea. but the joy of riding remained in my psyche.

i've enjoyed riding ever since i was a little girl. in the early years my older sister and i would ride as our parents followed on foot, stroll-paced. then in jr high i got a purple mountain bike from Kmart or Meijer. it got me oriented to my new surroundings. i'd escape to the local cemetery or just cruise around the neighborhood. riding has been a source of peace.

so sight or no sight, my adult years couldn't escape the good memories of me, a bike, and the open road. once i recognized my fear i determined to get over it. and two years ago i bought "30."

yes, my bike's name is 30. s/he is a black trek 7.3fx (whatever that equation means). buying 30 didn't cancel my fear, it simply smacked it. cruising to and from work or school is no big deal. it's the actual cardio workout sort of ride that make me nervous, the stuff that involves car traffic and random bugs hitting the back of my throat without warning. i still fight my thoughts each morning, wanting to ride but hoping for torrential rain.

solution? well, in addition to positive self-talk, i've found it helpful to find a challenge or cause. by riding for United Way i get a challenging cause. fabulous!

wish me well. add some dollars to the fund if you can. and no matter what, don't worry...one-eyed riding is quite fashionable these days. but really though, don't wait too long to ride a bike or whatever your equivalent may be.

.m.

http://ride4unitedway.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=303905&lis=1&kntae303905=ADD6BC41F78A410A80BAEC9C78C731B7&supId=267573850

Saturday, August 22

Friday, August 21

the first line


during today's morning walk, my mind happened upon a line, a really good line, a line i wrote down once i got back home so that i can one day complete the story.

i often wonder what would happen if i intentionally wrote each morning...

Wednesday, August 19

of lowes and limits

so i'm truly a product of my mother--DIY makes me happy.

today we went to Lowes desiring to find a new kitchen faucet, among other things. a kind man from hardware took us to our plumbing destination where the expert helped us locate our faucet of choice. a major deciding factor was the degree of pot-collision.

pot-collision: when the faucet hangs so low that it collides with a pot placed in the sink.

we wanted pot-clearance and found it! (thank you Moen for your beautiful pewter displays and lifetime warranty.) professional Grant discussed the installation process with my very knowledgeable mother. he even showed her the vital tool used to unscrew all the bolts under the sink (sorry, no wrenches will help you there!) and discussed other fine points of the process. and then he said something that could have but a wrench in our beautiful encounter. he said that certain things shouldn't be done by any old willing heart. (that's my loose paraphrase.) circular drill use = professional labor. okay mum? ok.

and it truly is ok. she's fine with it. she knows her limits. i just hope the professional driller isn't offended when s/he finds that everything else has been taken care of by a DIY woman.

a portion sized thank you.

i live in what at first sight (my sight) seems like a small town...it just has that flavour. a lot of small businesses, little this, little that. yeah, there's a walmart and other major stores but it still has that small feel to it. when a friend and i decided to go out to eat, i started to research food options wondering if i'd really find something good. thankfully, i was happily surprised by Bistro 238.

this lovely little eatery is tucked behind other more visible businesses and doesn't even have a wonderful front-store graphic. sad but true. but once you walk in, you're encouraged by the good layout, the use of black boards advertising the daily special and thursday's jazz night, the real table cloths, the wood tables and chairs, the lack of a strong food smell (= good ventilation) and the food. it is good. ummm hmmm.

but there was an even bigger surprise. the portion size. it was small. i anticipated biting into a normal american-sized foccacia-and-grilled-veges-with-feta sandwich right after finishing a normal american-sized mixed greens salad. i pictured two separate dishes, two separate relatively big dishes. what did i get? one. and on that one came both items. a small salad and a small sandwich.

i quickly wrestled with the reality, the small reality, deciding to get over it and appreciate that this eatery was actually in line with my current desire to stop overeating. yes, i would be grateful for Bistro 238, i should be grateful. i am grateful.

honestly. i am. i ate well. the company was great. and i'm not now in the sleep-induced state that overeating provides.

thank you B. i will return.

ps. your prices are nice too...

Saturday, August 1

hair

it's funny. it's real. it's unfortunate. etc. watch the trailer. http://www.facebook.com/ChrisRock

i typically wear my hair in twists. i'm scared of weaves. i picture myself walking under a tree while a great gust of wind permanently connects my weave to a strong branch. but that melodrama aside, i just don't believe in the fake stuff. perhaps i'll change my mind one day but for now i'm pretty satisfied with my locks. and many will say, "well, you have good hair" to which i'll reply, "i take care of my hair."

and that, my friends, makes a world of difference.

i was a curious child when it came to my hair. at a young age, i began experimenting for hours in front of a mirror. my mum gave me the freedom i needed to gain hair doing independence. i haven't been to a salon in 5 years and i've probably only been to 5 in my entire 30 years. every blue moon, i'll ask a friend to temporarily straighten it for me. other than that, i'm my own stylist (for better and for worse).

and i've had my bad days. i had a really bad hair braiding day the summer of '98. by that afternoon, i had a short afro. snip snip snip. no one's perfect. but i'll never call your hair bad. perhaps mismanaged but not bad...

Tuesday, July 28

random unfinished writings

Proximity
8/20/07

There’s this phenomenon going on. It’s called Proximity. The idea is to be as close to your audience as possible without being hurt—vulnerability without full-fledged reciprocity. It happens when the pilot gets out of the cock pit to tell us that his co-pilot isn’t yet here. Mr. Pilot could have stayed in his pit but he’d rather be appreciated so he stepped out and spoke to us directly. He’s not about to walk the aisle and shoot the breeze—that would be too much and quite unrealistic. After all, he’s got a job to do. But we all appreciated actually seeing him, not just hearing him. I appreciate it. I can work with it. I can even do it. But I think we set each other up for disappointment in some scenarios. Like when we spend extra time in conversation face to face. That proximity is nice and intimate. So we expect it next time around and if we don’t get it, we wonder what went wrong.


Or maybe that’s just a female thing and I’m getting in over my head. So I’ll stop writing now. There’s no phenomenon. Nothing to see here folks. Nothing to stand in awe over. The pilot was just being nice.


***


light
6/3/07


it’s fascinating to see how light alters things, how the sun (for example) makes it hard to see the exact locale of the Frisbee in flight. so I knock it from the sky wishing I had more perception.


***


Answers
12/20/05


Answers are often hard to come by. Resting in a state of unknowns, I bury my head and cry. But hope comes in moments. I take hold of each and know one thing--I will be fine.

Bits of hope like paper passed through confetti shredders
Flies, fanned by discouragement

Thursday, July 16

about our Father's business

basic concept:
a quarterly, print-ready, pdf. file with 300-350 word interviews or 1st person narratives about the life of ministry

purpose:
to encourage Adventists that don't hold traditional ministry positions (pastor, chaplain, etc) to be about our Father's business...to be connected to God personally and communally in ways that intentionally seek to build God's kingdom

more...:
10 people each quarter
10 different fields (as different as possible)
different countries (to maintain a world-focus and become more aware of the work elsewhere)
diverse in color, culture and age (though mostly young professionals and younger)
gender balance

method:
gather interviews/narratives with current pics for each (streamline the pics)
create contemporary layout, design, etc
create pdf. file
create central web space (an existing cite, facebook...whatever works best)
develop readership
post and email quarterly

Tuesday, July 14

how about a christmas in july gift for moi?

The space saving bicycle

Posted using ShareThis

update on the philadelphia pool problem...




one really sad fact about all this is that even if the club leadership isn't racist, the members who said those racist things when the children got there have made it that much harder to even think about smoothing anything over. oh human nature. when will you end?

Monday, July 13

last w & t

in my parent's laundry room sits a grey metal filing cabinet. i'm quite sure it's the only "michaela possession" still taking up space in this house and i'm quite proud that with all my hording ways, my stuff isn't the bane of my parent's existence. yet, i've known for a while that all the paper in that metal probably isn't worth keeping. so last night, i began the sorting/shredding process. it was therapeutic to watch and hear paper ground into smithereens and to come across words i'd long forgotten. like my last will and testament.

not sure what got into me on august 6, 2001. it was a monday and i decided to print out a list of how i wanted my belongings distributed and funeral organized. my mum witnessed my signature and i sealed and signed the letter-sized envelope. below my signature are the words "to be opened immediately after death." granted, it would have taken my family a while to even find this so it probably wouldn't have been immediate....

with nothing much to my name in 2001, there is only 1 double-spaced page listing what to give to whom. the next 1.5 pages are much more interesting. i sort of want to scan and post them on fb. but then again, if i found out that a friend wanted me to sing or read a poem at her funeral, i'd probably feel a bit weird, a weird that would trump the feeling of honor.

i must say, however, that i was quite humorous 8 years ago. several of the funeral instructions have an asterisk by them which means that these lines are to be read at some point during the funeral "to lighten the atmosphere a bit". for example:

*The service should just flow from one thing to the next--no dead time (no pun intended).
*The program should have a poem by me on the front and a picture on the back. My words come first, not my face.
*Dress me in something happy and flattering
*If I look very bad, PLEASE CLOSE THE CASKET.

after reading through all of this and the more serious stuff, i got quite emotional for a bit...not to the point of tears but to the point of one serious question: if i don't wake up tomorrow, how should i have spent my time today? it felt like a near-death experience, one that thankfully didn't include guns, broken limbs or emergency room runs but still forced me to stop and think hard about what really matters...really.

and it's easy to say, well, i should make the most of the time i have with family and witness to everyone i meet. but in the midst of that "good" verbiage, i still question the SHOULD.

my window is open. the smell of the morning breeze enters my room, taking me back 10 years to 6 weeks spent in trois pistoles for a french immersion program. every morning was cool and unlucky me had left my fleece in one of via rail's train cars, never to be seen again. the only warm clothing i had was a hoodie. i was cold and shy. welcome to quebec! when i finally began dreaming in french, conversing in class, and hanging out with other students, it was week 5. instead of questioning my arrival, i wanted to start again, make friends quicker, delve into the culture sooner. life was good; i wanted to keep it that way. it wasn't filled with hugs and bible studies but with jokes, frappes and poetry readings. the cool morning air was now bearable and french was a great language.

the last two weeks were the best.

...pls don't put that on my gravestone...

Saturday, July 11

dix ans

i met a 10-year old girl...a beautiful p.k. with a lot to discuss. it was great. our initial interactions were distant. she was the youngest at the dinner table, separated by a minimum of 12 years to the next youngest. so i wasn't surprised by her quiet nature but i could tell she had a voice.

surprised by my perception yet confident in it, i hung around close by as we stood outside the house, about to depart post (an oh so fabulous) meal. and to be quite honest, i wanted to talk. i was once in her place, the young p.k. that doesn't get much attention as the adults schmooze, unintentionally excluding her from 98% of the conversation due to its subject matter. i wanted this p.k. to know that i wasn't one of those adults, that she could speak and should speak...and i would willingly listen and engage.

did you go to french immersion?

finally! her question picked up from an earlier brief exchange that had me stumbling through french phrases and eventually getting around to asking her age. i get so excited when i hear that someone else in the room knows french. i'm not sure why i get excited coz i don't speak it well. alas, there's a lingering desire to really know it...one day...

so we got to chatting about french lessons, immersion, school trips, meeting famous people, neighbors...like i said, she had a lot to discuss. and she spoke with such interest both in what she divulged and what she heard me say. we could have kept on for quite a while. being the stronger conversationalist, she would have carried the encounter and i wouldn't have minded one bit!

hopefully we'll meet again soon and i'm praying i remember her name. until then, j'espere que je me souviens...

Thursday, July 9

keep hope alive...?...

View more news videos at: http://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/video.

Wednesday, July 8

my bike's name is...

off and on, i've thought about naming my bike. it's a random thought that i finally decided to entertain for longer than a moment.

then other questions popped up. do bikes have a gender? does the fact that it was built for a woman mean it should have a woman's name? should i pick a few names and take a fb poll?

i quickly dismissed them all and thought of a generic option. "300." then i quickly vetoed that sucker due to pop culture references and moved on to "30" which has much deeper significance. after all, i've been on a challenge to ride 300 (hence the first choice) miles in 30 days and i turned 30 this year. so there we have it. my black trek beauty now has a name that encapsulates my current year of life and the current challenging month of exercise.

30. it now means you can do it.

can u dig it?

Wednesday, July 1

in just a few words

i'm determined to speak briefly, say enough and no more. i have a bad habit of rambling on and on and on... and it's not b/c i'm a woman. i think it's a matter of finding my voice late and finding authority in my voice even later. so i've got a lot to catch up on, a lot of blanks that need filling, and never enough time. if i write out my thoughts first, i can speak them more fluidly but there isn't always time for pen and paper/keyboard and fingers. alas, i must be quicker. i must. then maybe i'll be able to explain myself in just a few words.

Thursday, June 25

focus

it's so easy to lose.

there's so much going on in everyone else's life and keeping up with everyone else can help us forget to focus. need confirmation? just log onto* facebook or twitter or own a cell phone (or do all three). everyone's up to something. unfortunately, so much of the story we're telling each other isn't that important in the long run.

just brushed my teeth
i've decided that red is my fav color after all

or really obscure nonsense like:

i'm so over that!

and yet i go and read and read and read. 2 hours later, i wonder what happened to the time i'd set aside to revise some writing.

i think i'll begin a "no fb after 8pm" rule. i'll let you know how it goes. and btw, i'm fully aware that two icons died today, one certainly bigger than the other. yes, i've listend to his music, watched his videos, wished i had the opportunity to see him perform live. when i was little, i wanted to one day be as famous as him. i've got many good memories related to him. the best part of piano lessons at about age 7 was being able to watch his videos with my piano teacher's older son while my sister was having her lesson.

and what will i do with all this? i'll keep on remembering the good. i'll jam to the big tunes every now and then. but most of all, i'll remember that i've got 1 life and i must live it fully. and at the end of the day, if crowds flock to the hospital i die in, i hope it's because i've done a whole leap of God-business in this messy world.

peace.

* i wasn't sure whether to write "logon to" or "log onto" since "login" has become normative...man, language is a beast...

Friday, June 19

unforgettable.

hours after a ride, I’ve just about forgotten about it. I feel it, though. my shoulders struggle to stay properly postured and my thighs are experiencing that jello sensation while my knees wish I’d do some weight training and my back needs to lie down. so I guess I haven’t fully forgotten but ask me what I saw and it’s much harder to discuss.

the route begins on Ritson. I pass a golf course on my left and wonder who these golfers are. who has time for this sort of expensive leisure? the road soon gets quieter and a bit narrower. it’s me and the farmland on both sides. don’t know what’s growing, just that it’s not suburbia.

I’m heading north and then northeast and then northwest. the wind isn’t in my favor but thankfully it’s not harassing me. I finally get to the fork in the road. wish I remembered which way to turn. right or left? the signs aren’t as clear as I’d like them to be. it looks as if Ritson goes left but then again it looks as though it goes right. I go left, climb a hill only to realize that no, this is not Ritson; it’s Columbus. oh well. at least I still know where I am. so I continue west hoping to soon bump into a major road. a dog barks and runs toward me. I jump, but not enough to leave my bike behind. just enough to keep me focused. must get away from dog. s/he doesn’t go very far, obviously trained to stay at home base. amen.

voila! it’s Simcoe. I head north again but this time the traffic is heavy, highway heavy. oops. what looks like a bike lane is simply the shoulder minimally paved. I press on. I’ve got a helmet; I’m invincible. okay maybe not. a semi just whizzed by. pls ppl, pls don’t hit me! I’m just in town for a little while and I’m just trying to get fit. and I’m just trying to find the next major cross street. I’m surprised no one is honking or yelling at me. maybe it’s coz we’re not a huge city. these ppl are still nice ppl.

and now we’re east. a nice road beginning with an “h” has me breathing a little slower. thank you residential community. somehow I feel at home. Howden. that’s the street’s name. I cruise along and as I breeze down a hill I get a strong reminder to slow down and watch the road ahead. it just might be Ritson.

ahhhh. reunited and it feels so good! north bound once again, I’m grateful to be back on track. it’s pretty straightforward from here. no hills, just a steady minor incline from time to time and a lot of flat ground. again, farmland. now passing a farm where they’re selling stuff. probably seasonal fruits and veggies. no time to stop though. must stay focused.

hello Raglan! I crossed here a couple of days ago, hoping to get to the end of Ritson but figured I’d been out long enough and was tired enough. but today is brand new so here I go across Raglan. the route is certainly becoming more and more deserted. the paved road becomes semi paved and soon I see the caution sign, something about a gravel road and proceeding at your own risk. I know better than to continue. after all, I’ve got road wheels and that’s a much more convincing reason to turn around than the fear of bears. no sign about that…just my overactive imagination as I see a huge patch of trees ahead.

so back up Ritson I go and over Raglan. southbound. collectors are clear. express lanes clear. and the wind loves me now. the ride becomes effortless in this direction even though I can hear the wind as I move.

would ppl hide in the tall grass? would some attacker jump out to steel my metal? okay, enough idle mind time.

I finally get back to the road I missed and figure out my mistake. the right turn is later than I’d thought. I won’t forget this now. stay left then go right. then pass the property that has a “4h fair goers live here” sign on the left. a little while later I hear running water. it’s quite inviting. but single women really shouldn’t go solo under bridges to investigate creeks or rivers. ride on!

there’s a questionable banquet hall at the corner of the next major intersection. it’s questionable coz it’s small and so un-prettty. oh Alanis, you would agree. needless to say, I’ll never ask them about rates.

now I’m almost home. there go the wealthy khaki-ed men and their luxury clubs on my right. I’m surprised at how fast I’m going. I’ve stayed pretty consistent with my gear choices today in an attempt to better pace the ride. it’s good.

the light turns red. i only have to wait for 3 cars to pass and then I turn right down Conlin. I wish these drivers knew what I’ve just accomplished. yeah, I know I don’t look like a serious cyclist with my long sleeved white t wrapped around my waist, revealing my baby-blue nike dry fit shirt and my exercise legging-type pants rolled up to my knees. my straight bars probably have ya’ll thinking I’ve just been cruising around town and you probably wish I’d take the sidewalks and stay out of your way. but here I am on your road, turning left at Edenwood then left onto Sandalwood.

home. just wish I could remember more. it was a good ride, all 15.89 miles of it.

thank you Canada. thank you mapmyride.com. thank you trek 7.3 fx. I should name you. you deserve it.

here's why

the other night i had a wicked-good brainstorm but i was much too lazy-tired to write it down. it had to do with the whole garbage-in, garbage-out concept. here's what i'm sayin (i just wish it was half as brilliant as what raced through my mind that midnight):

most of us have somehow or another been taught to be careful little eyes/ears/mouth/feet what you see/hear/say/where you go, etc. after all, you can't erase what's done and everything affects you (just admit it). and as we've grown, we've been allowed to use our discretion. so we make our choices/beds and deal with them/lay in them. welcome to adulthood.

the problem is that even if we only watch g-rated movies and listen to ccm, gospel, hymns, and classical music we're still often missing a vital step: assessment.

so what if i've just spent the day helping somebody. have i taken (or even had the time) to think about the consequences, good and bad? probably not. i've just said, thank you God for the opportunity and carried on my merry way. and b/c i've missed this vital step, the next time i lend a helping hand won't be near as effective an experience as it could be had i paused and assessed.

all this talk of oh be careful should have progressed to now think about it. let it marinade. synthesize this bad boy. what are the implications? what should change and why? etc.....

i.e. more growth.

make sense?

Sunday, June 14

the better way...

forget writing.

i need a fancy voice recorder, the tiny kind that slips into your hand and is barely visible at your mouth. the kind that makes onlookers think you're FBI.

Friday, June 12

the road

gear: trek 7.3fx
acquired: 2007
miles travelled: 70miles (give or take 20)
enjoyment: priceless

okay, enough for corny....

so i've been riding these last 3 days and it is kicking my butt! not literally, of course but the figurative had me asleep for a good 2 hours this afternoon. nap, glorious nap! and while i'm not in pain (yet) my legs are quite jello-like so sitting is the operative position.

ever since the training wheels came off, i've seldom refused the opportunity to cruise around. when my family moved from liberia to michigan, i picked up a purple mountain bike (courtesy of KMart) and got to know the neighborhood. rosehill cemetery was a favourite locale; its stillness attracted me : )

high school upped the ante, giving me the chance to bike for PE. my classmate Scott loaned me his wheels and at the end of the term, i raced for our school's year-end track and field thing. i felt good about it overall but could have won if i wasn't so focused on everyone else's success. oh well.

while living in chicago, i really wanted to do the yearly night-ride through the city. i told Rubani i'd get a bike. i looked and then chickened out. i looked again and again convinced myself that it wasn't worth it after all...

now i've got my own road bike. it's got road wheels but mountain handle bars. the frame can accommodate mountain wheels if i care to switch and i'm sure i could switch the bars, too, if i preferred a true road feel. but for now the package is good and i'm told the bike is pretty sexy. i'll take the compliment! but that aside, i'm on a mission to do 300 miles in the next 30 days, working in rest days (happy Sabbath) and long rides. it'll be quite a challenge coz this area has so many hills. i feel as though i've ridden 30 miles by the time i've done 3. in its own little way, my body thanks me for the workout but i'm really wasted once the ride is over. in a month, i'll have great legs and arms and a trimmer middle and i'd better be happy too!

but how will i get there? i'm used to being consistent with exercise for about 2 weeks. then something will come along (school work usually) and knock me off track. i have none of that to contend with these days. so what'll the challenge be? will the mental drive hold up? will posting my route on mapmyride.com be enough? will the weekly emails of encouragement from fellow 300 milers keep my psyche stable? or perhaps my facebook family will save the day as they comment on my status updates... all in all, i want to make it through this challenge and i want to do it well.

as i flew down a hill this morning, i realized that the very act of riding is (for me) a slap in fear's stupid face. for several yards, all i could think of was all the self-talk i'd done when i first rode my trek. girl, you paid good money for this--you'd better ride it! you'll be fine...just focus on the road ahead. no one's gonna hit you. ride woman! and all because i now had only one good eye. what business did i have cruising with cars? seriously!

after riding with Nicole, my confidence increased. i did 10 miles on my own from time to time. then life/fear/etc got in the way again and my trek only joined me for limited jaunts to and from school. those days are over. it's time to put this sexy metal to good use. may my flesh survive...

Tuesday, June 9

kindness

i won't say names and i'll keep it short coz it's late and i can't afford to chance stupid sentences.

you see, unkind protest frustrates me. i realize that some things must be railed against but whatever happened to peaceful protest and fruits of the spirit? and whatever happened to getting word from the horse's mouth? in this age of connectedness, there's no excuse to do otherwise. unless you're a secret agent, a regular citizen can probably find you.

so for all those creating sites, adding rants to blogs, and writing indirect letters, please accept my apology. i can't seem to respect your approach which causes me to quickly question your authority.

you're not rude when you intentionally witness to a stranger. why should that change when disagreeing with a colleague?

Tuesday, March 31

letting go of God?

(caution: it's best to read ALL the way through, ponder, then comment. thank you.)


oh NPR... ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh NPR...

in the midst of it's fund drive and my personal desire to not sleep (even though i should) i listened to an encore presentation of Terry Gross interviewing Julia Sweeney. Sweeney talked about her journey from Catholicism to Atheism. in her words, she has "let go of God." she's even written a song about it. it plays on her website and really captures a sense of relief.

while listening to the interview, my skeptical mind immediately said "oh please, Julia! you can't let go of God coz believe it or not, you never had God..." or did she and what does it mean to "have God" anyway?

but before i got skeptical about Julia, i let out an "oh Terry" sigh for the renowned interviewer who seems to love talking about not being or no longer being Christian. i just don't get it. i know that we're all entitled to our opinions but Terry, what's your deal?

but i must stop myself from all this negative backlash...at least for a minute. because there's a bigger question to be asked. what causes people to move from yes God to no God? i'm no philosopher but i'll venture a guess and my guess is that you can only move from yes to no if your yes is based on something faulty. (and yes, i'm an idealist. bare with me.) i don't quite understand how anyone can not believe in God and not desire all that God has for them after years of belief. i don't easily get that. i understand doubt in and wrestling with God but a total peace out? the fact that you once believed in what you now think is nonsensical goes to show the amount of faith necessary for belief and somehow or another you had that faith. so what really happened? yeah, i think something was faulty. coz if God is really that nonsensical, your adult mind wouldn't have had enough faith in God to begin with, would it? or was that the time in your life when you were searching and unstable and needed to hold on to something that sounded good and God was that something, or that notion of God that you'd heard so much about, therefore the fact that your belief was momentary is okay....?

excuse my boldness but i dare to suppose that what you've let go of isn't God so you're not really an Atheist after all. whew! that was a close call Julia! you had me worried there. i was about to pray for you and everything. coz i know what's what. you see, i know God and God is the real deal and you obviously didn't experience the real deal or you would have never left. oh yeah! once you get all wrapped up in Eternity, you don't peace out. you just don't...i mean, that wouldn't make any sense. how could it?

or could it?

Julia, i'll admit it. i'm not comfortable with you being an Atheist. in fact, i'd rather spell it with a lowercase "a"...atheist...so as to diminish its significance against my uppercase "G"...God. i'm not comfortable with you being an atheist for 3 reasons (coz that's all that's come to mind, not coz 3 has some sort of intrinsic power):

1st...what i said before is completely true. i think God is the real deal, so real that i don't EVER want to live without God. i can give you one experience after another to explain my belief (though "explain" probably isn't even the right word). but i'll spare you coz i don't think you need my story. but if you're curious, please feel free to ask. i won't hold back. you may have to schedule five 1/2 hour sessions to prevent overload. it's not that i've rehearsed a monologue (no offense) but i'm so sure of God's presence in my life and in the lives of others. i'm so sure that God literally walks with me and talks with me. i believe...YES, i BELIEVE that God loves me with ALL God's heart. and i've questioned. a lot. and i'm still believing. (and i'm sorry that the "b" word trips you up. i wish it were a simple case of semantics but i know it's more.)

2nd...i'm afraid that somewhere down the line, you were given the wrong picture of God, one that forced you to decide between reason and faith. you chose the former, not realizing that God never divorces the two coz God made the two and works in both arenas all the time. i'm afraid that you were given the wrong picture of God because someone wasn't patient enough with your questions, and like me in their idealism, they wanted to fix the picture according to their "expert" knowledge and faith journey instead of giving you the time and space and encouragement to seek God and wait for God's reply.

3rd...i don't think you want to believe, afraid that you'll lose something if you do.

Dear Julia, i want to paint what i believe to be a more accurate picture of your disbelief in order to make me more comfortable with it. i'm sorry. please forgive my swift kicks. i'll try to believe you. yes, you've let go of God for some reason...a reason i may never properly qualify. a reason i may never properly understand. i promise not to write an essay/book or preach a sermon against you or others like you. i won't pretend to know. and i sincerely, sincerely hope that one day you take a few intentional moments to ask God for just one more glimpse of Eternity. and when you wait patiently for it and get it i pray you'll hold it close forever.

yes Julia. i'm praying for you. it feels weird to write, sort of like saying that i'll pray for President Obama or other world leaders. i know you're not on that level of worldly significance but there's always a weird feeling attached to saying that i'll pray for someone who's so far removed from me. there's always a little voice in my head saying, "really? you're really going to pray for that person? and you think your little prayer is going to do something?"

see, that's 90% of the problem. somehow i grew up with the notion that my prayers work like a magic trick. poof! snap! stuff happens just like that! but lately i've started thinking of prayer as simply me talking to God and then listening to what God has to say. God sometimes replies right away sort of like when i say hello to someone as i walk by and they respond in kind. but then there are other times when God answers through other people or through the Bible. i'll talk to God at 6:15am and i'll get a reply at 2:55pm. it's similar to a child asking, "mum, can i go out to play?" she often waits, not because she wants to torture her child but because she's hoping the child will think things through a bit more, weigh the pros and cons like she's taught the child to do, and do some research on the weather conditions...what are the ramifications of this desire and will you use your brain or just wait for the handwriting on the wall?

so i'll talk to God about you. and maybe God will direct me to some concrete answers and maybe God will help me figure out how to be even more useful to you. and just maybe these conversations will disrupt things in the spiritual realm and cause Gods enemies to retreat and give you the space you need to believe again, to hold on again. (and yes, i believe that happens but there's not enough time to discuss it now.)

whatever the case, i'll pray. and i'll hope. and i'll keep on asking bold questions and tossing around bold answers. and hey Julie...if you want to reply, i'm all eyes...

till then,
Michaela

Sunday, March 29

soggy cereal

i'm about to eat some soggy cereal. why? coz it's across the room and i haven't wanted to move to pick it up and bring it over here. so it's been sitting...flakes in soy...getting soggy.

i'm looking for the lesson, the deep truth bound up in my present lazy being...

suggestions anyone?

Tuesday, March 17

beauty

Reminder number one:
walk slowly. Steps matter
Smoke rises to greet the sky
afraid. Is it enough?

I sat on the floor today
Carpet circa 1995
Tough grey-brown, bland #11
Comfortless reliability stretched for meters around my exhausted frame
Lean brown-skinned girl, twisted locks set ponytail-like
Legs crossed. Elbows propping head in hands

What now?
Two words linger in the mulberry scented apartment air of unanswered questions
While the winter wind carries the tear-filled scream of an
ill-mannered child through my non-storm windows
Shut up dad!
Children these days. When did they get so…so…

Reminder number two:
quiet. This, a holy
sacrificial moment...
wait. Come one at a time.

The last yellow-orange teardrop quickly dies
Another offering accepted, grey haze hovering lightly above what once had
Breath in
Breath out
Now in sacred posture, hushed tones.

I’ve grown accustomed to this rhythm
Become familiar with this daily walk through what’s gone wrong
Never perfect except when perfectly not what He asked for…
again
A clear picture of blood disconnected from Life

Reminder number three:
apologize. Honest workers needed
apologize for unplugging yourself
for not dwelling in the present

I said sorry
Did He hear me?
I know…bible + prayer = growth
a kindergarten special that I stopped singing when I outgrew action songs
long legged stretch marks begat skepticism and skepticism begat an unconscious desire to shrink

but I’m different now
And I said I’m sorry
Did He hear me?
No thunder
No feeling
Everything sits still
Even time

Did he hear my confession?
The words “I don’t want to live like this anymore”
The prayer “Help me!”
I call but hear no response

Reminder number four:
no veil. no distance.
approach boldly…because you can.

I said, did You hear me?
Did you take my apology seriously, noting the head bowed and eyes closed, knees connecting with ground for what seemed like hours?
Did you feel my sincerity even though we’ve been through this before—me the altar call addict, You the Ever Patient?
Do you (really) accept me as I am, too broken to ever be
whole, too selfish to ever bring a complete sacrifice?

Reminder number five:
Assurance
You take this lifeless form
Breathe in
Breathe out
daily praying, interceding
Father forgive her…she just doesn’t know…yet

Then you press rewind
head back
daily revealing
Angels see…my grace has been sufficient

Reminder number six:
Great is Your faithfulness
God, You’re my Father
Mine

You’ve done all you can so that I’ll talk with You
and walk with You
so that I’ll never think to stop
Eden will be home forever

You’re always reminding me to listen, to really hear You
not just throw words at You
expecting white rabbits and plastic roses in return
imitators have been banished

Reminder number seven:
No need to be afraid
It is finished
I can be saved if I choose…
If I choose to stay your child
If I choose to worship
If I choose to believe

it’s 4% intellectual ascent. 104% faith…or thereabouts…so it seems
Just to believe that you want me, here, now
Dark glass and all
Cross-burnt hatred and all
Simmering rage and all
Perfection is a lost coin
I’ve just commenced the search

Meanwhile You’ve found me
Dusty at best
And You want to keep me
and I think You’re crazy
but if crazy saves
If crazy saves
I’ll take it…

Thursday, March 12

Chapel-Goers and Mongolian Grill

“Did you go to Chapel today?” one friend asked another.

“I didn’t have to—I’ve reached the max,” she replied, relieved at her success and the even more satisfying-sounding fact that she’s one worship moment away from the dorm requirement.

And she’s not alone. A slew of us can relate to the sigh of relief that escapes, uncontrolled, from our hearts as we check our attendance record and realize that our required presence is almost over. A…men. And it’s not that we don’t love God. We’re not necessarily fighting to be freed from Christianity, either. It’s just that we haven’t leaned to fully appreciate this 50-minute block that seems to invade our busy schedule. We may even like many of the experiences we have during that time but the knowledge that we must go or else reap unwanted consequences in the form of fines or reports just gets under our skin.

So those of us who really despise the consequences go ahead and do our time, so to speak. For those of us who are likely worship participants, we hope that people will ask us to participate early in the semester. That way, we’re possibly more likely to enjoy the whole experience and it’ll be harder to fall behind the attendance limit.

So what’s the solution? Don’t require Chapel? Whatever! Let’s be honest folks. I’m not going regularly if it’s not required and most of you aren’t either. Some of you will never go. It doesn’t mean our spiritual walk is a failure but what does it mean?

I’m afraid to throw out suggestions, afraid to point fingers. So I’ll stay away from giving the popular answer that the people in charge need to do a better job and I’ll say this: how about we, the students, be the change we want to see?

I compare it to Sabbath services. I typically don’t enjoy sitting down for a couple of hours on a regular basis—I fall asleep. (Yes, even in class. It’s terrible, I know!) The more involved I am in that service, the better for all of us. The pastor won’t think s/he is boring as they watch my head hit the pew in front of me and I’ll walk away remembering the depth of what I’ve experienced. So it’s really helpful if even if I’m not singing upfront, that I’m asked to be an active participant in an intentional, Christ-centered worship experience. And I challenge myself beforehand to go into worship expecting to give just as I expect to receive. Of course I want to hear good music and a good sermon. Of course I want smooth transitions and friendly ushers. I’ve been raised to believe that all of that is normal. But I can’t put all the pressure on the people in charge. Worship isn’t a TV show. It’s much more like going out to eat at Mongolian Grill. The food is there, the cooks are ready but you’ve got to gather the ingredients. And they’ve got helpful tips but if you just want to try your luck and the end product is a bit too crazy for your taste buds, you can’t sue the restaurant.

So what do you do?

It’s Thursday morning (or some other morning depending on your campus area). You enter with a great appetite coupled with an openness to direction. Whether or not people smile at you or sound “authentic,” and whether or not it’s just as your friend said it would be, you determine to be blessed and be a blessing. You grab that bowl or that Bible and you soak up all the yummy goodness that time will afford. And even though it’s a “forced” encounter, you remind yourself that God is present as has something to show you. It may be new, it may be old. Either way, it’s good stuff. And in the end, you’ll say A…men!

Monday, January 26

thank you Clarence Page

just in case you needed some clarity, THIS may help.

perhaps i'll add my two cents another time when i have time. right now i'm too busy being black...hehe...sorry, my tongue's in my cheek. i promise.

Wednesday, January 14

dollars

i'm trying to do better with money. save more intentionally. tithe regularly (instead of lump sums after forgetting). spend thriftily. do the cash-only thing for groceries. etc. and wouldn't you know it...as the days and weeks pass by i make silly money mistakes.

case in point: in december, i set up my january rent payment online. and then i forgot. i paid my january rent via paper check in person at the beginning of the month. i did a routine account check this evening and was unpleasantly surprised to see that a chunk of money had disappeared yesterday. to where?! to my landlords.

i'll take the optimistic road. at least february's rent is taken care of, right?

good intentions, good inshmenshions...

Tuesday, January 13

give

i'm not good at it. i've said it before (perhaps just to myself) and i'll say it again (now to the WORLD). but. i've resolved to be better at developing and maintaining relationships. i know how to walk away. it's one of the side effects of a childhood on 3 continents. but i can't keep on blaming my childhood--that's not the key to success.

a major componant of developing and maintaining is giving. *insert uncontrollable coughing mixed with cold shivers* it's not that i'm diametrically opposed to giving. it's just that i actually used to do a lot of it. i gave time--my most prized possession. and then i got tired coz i wasn't getting it back in the quanitity i needed. in recent years i've learned to accept and truly appreciate the way others give. it doesn't always suit me and my selfish (yet not always negatively selfish) desires.

and as i learn to accept and appreciate, i also learn to give in new ways. cornbread. people love to eat. i make it vegan. people like it. warm that sucker and slap some butter on it...umm umm good.

but giving goes far beyond time and food. it also includes "the benefit of the doubt" and other such mental/emotional transactions that often take more out of me than baking. like...forgiving and being forgiven.

they're a right pain, if you ask me. (but you didn't ask. sorry.) they're a pain because if you forgive and accept forgiveness then thoughts and actions should change somewhat. you don't open up yourself to more hurt or start breaking promises left, right, and center. but a big red X no longer shows up on your phone when they call and you think twice and thrice before you speak and/or act.

you know what, i wouldn't be 23 again if you paid me. however, where i am isn't gravy. nevertheless i'm trecking on even if there are 10 inches of snow on the sidewalk outside. (okay, maybe that's a slight exageration...maybe.

i will give
i will forgive
i will accept forgiveness

i should write that a thousand times...

and no, i'm not being sarcastic. sorry if my honesty isn't warm fuzzy. it's 14 deg F people! : )

Monday, January 12

yup

it's official. i have creative energy that needs to be used intentionally...just in case you were wondering...