Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you
as yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
that I may rise, and stand; overthrow me, bend
your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
--John Donne
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
stuff that's changed since the last time i was in college: part 1
1. my name is the first called (last name starts with a 'B' now) 2. I have to remember to turn off my cell phone 3. the lecture is interrupted by gunshots outside our window 4. I am the oldest person in the class. Possibly including the professors. 5. I can't go to a concert, get to bed at 3 a.m., get up at 6 a.m., and still function. 6. there is something called The Chicago Manual Style term paper. 7. the Henry Madden Library is kaput. 8. one book costs $72.00. 9.my professoremailed my syllabus to me. 10. I have (thanks to Brad) really cool baskets on my bike.
Today I became very angry at one of my board members. I got so angry that even as I knew I should pray about it--and for her--I just couldn't muster up the motivation to do so.
About an hour later--iPod plugged into my head--I resumed my mad obsessive cleaning and organizing of my house. I believe this relentless drive is attributed to an attempt to get efficiently prepared for being busy in school starting next week.
I'm also thinking God is using it as an opportunity to tell me stuff via podcasts, sermons, and stories.
As I pulled archaic, long-lost, and dust-smothered items from behind beds and under dressers, I listened to a story about a young Indian girl who was a friend of the man who was speaking. His series is entitled Uncommon Love. At age 14 this young friend of his was raped by four men. This assault was ultimately the cause of her death.
As the last man finished with her, she looked up at him and saw that he had sores covering one side of his face. She reached out, touched him, and prayed for him.
He was instantly healed.
This young girl's attacker is now a believer, living for Jesus.
I sat down on the side of my bed, assorted items clutched in my hands, and realized in a deep place that I have a lot to learn about love.
Yesterday Emily and I drove down to Long Beach to pick up Sarah, who had flown in from New York.
Due to random crashes, fires, and late night tar-laying, we were on the road for 15 hours (minus a long walk on the beach and a pit-stop at In-N-Out).
Which meant we had a lot of time together. We talked, laughed, argued, cried....on the sand with the surf pulling at our legs, and in the car with the sun burning through the windows on the grapevine, where we were going exactly 7 mph for a very long time. (Mel-- I thought of you and felt your pain.)
Due to an unfortunate--or perhaps divinely orchestrated --series of events Sarah ended up staying the night here (she had intended to stay at her dad's house, where she will be living for the next 6 months).
And so this morning before I drove her to her first day of school (note the picture) Emily, Sarah, and I sat on the porch together, all snuggled up on the little flowered sofa, and prayed. It was a lovely and most unexpected gift.
Aimee joined us for lunch at JavaWava (highly recommended), and it was wonderful. Live music, veggie wraps, all three of my girls together.....Yesssss.
I see God answering prayers and moving in hearts. Thank you to all of you who have been praying.
Emily (a.k.a. Puddin) is at camp this week. She gets to be a kid. No heavy responsibilites or burdens from Dakota House kids. Just a happy camper. Yessssss.........
Here is the list of things that have broken at our house in the last month:
toaster oven microwave not 1 but 2 DVD players brakes on my car house air-conditioning (in the heat spell, naturally) lawn mower coffee maker (yes...THAT one) flat tires on BOTH vehicles (in the same day) my eyes the blender
All four of my kids talk in their sleep. Apparently I do too. Nate actually goes through motions while talking in his sleep, which provides for much entertainment in the evenings. Especially when you consider he often falls asleep on the couch hours before we all head off to bed. He's been known to pull out some excellent Ninja moves, paint the wall in the hallway, and walk around in a circle speaking nonsense before settling back in the same spot he just left.
In my opinion, all of this pales, however, beside the memory I have of Aimee.
One night when Aimee was about 8 years old, while in a deep sleep, she bolted to a sitting position, opened her eyes wide, looked straight at me, and said, "Don't kill George Jetson!!"
