Avenue C

A Life in Lists

2010-08-02T12:13:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I spent some time with this book that I bought on a whim at Barnes & Noble a few months back. This turns out to be the perfect book for me because 1) I'm obsessed with lists and 2) I'm constantly giving blank stares when asked, "What's your favorite blahdy blah?" Now that I have a book which requires me to put some thought into those questions maybe I will actually be able to come up with my favorite actor, childhood memory or personality trait on the spot.

Artsy Fartsy

2010-02-19T00:48:00.004-05:00

I've always been really interested in poetry as a form of expression. I go to poetry slams and listen to others' works and talk about how I'd like to give it a go myself one day. My friend Ray is a poet and took me to a few readings. Every time we g chat I tell him I want to write or go to a workshop and he says, "do it" and then I don't.

I get afraid to try things that I don't know a lot about or don't know if I'll be good at. I was whining about this to Ray over g chat the other day...how I don't even know what poetry really is or what form it should be in or...here's how the conversation went:

me: i want to try writing poetry but have a hard time starting because i don't know the form or anything

i'm a perfectionist like that

allsense: don't worry about form

desire is everything

don't censor your voice

if i could offer any advice

to someone who wanted to write

it would be to write

first and foremost

the rest comes

when it's ready

me: cool. thanks for the tip. i just need to start putting pen to paper instead of thinking about it so much.

allsense: exactly!

there's a saying in architecture

critics build nothing.

Thank you, Ray. I needed that. Here's to buliding:

Puppet
You want to live your life on a stage
To act and sound off and do your dance
And that is fine
But only for a while.

For what happens, good man, when the crowds are gone
And the lights are off
And one, just one, remains?
The one man show has no finite end
And your dance is for survival
Then it is just me and you and
You and Me

Suddenly you've forgotten the words to all your songs
But I remember and sing along
Your hands and feet and head and heart
Seem all in the wrong places
No matter how you move them

.....(work in progress)

Right
The anticipation
Subtle glances and touches
Wondering if their meaning is mutual
Or merely a polite face

And with one touch--prolonged--
All is answered
And all is right
For that fleeting moment

Hands meet, then eyes, then lips
Faces close, breath in your ear
Hearing a smile with your eyes closed
Time and history do not interfere

In this moment there are two--
People with racing hearts
Admiring each other's beauty
And tasting each other's lips, so sweet
In this moment there are just two, no more

And you freeze this moment
And carry it with you
Into a complicated life
And a complicated world

And this moment offers hope
Enough to to stretch across a wide span of valleys
A hope that knows sometimes things can be right

That sometimes two is just enough.

Thinking
Anticipation is weighty
And a dream deferred even moreso
There is never rest from the "what if"

When is it ok to trust?
And will there be someone to hold that trust
And consider it their honor?
What is that delicate balance between God and human?

Is there always one who cares more--
Who is destined to be on the receiving end of hurt?

Perhaps it is a calling
That beats you up in time
But somehow makes you stronger too.

Reality Check

2010-02-12T00:59:00.003-05:00

Tonight I went to go see "Up in the Air" with Kari and another friend. I was expecting a love story that left my heart feeling fluttery and hopeful. What I got was not that. What I got was (spoiler alert) George Clooney showing up on her doorstep only to find out she's married with kids. Married with kids, people. I am now replaying the entire movie in my head in light of this bomb that was dropped at the end.

After, I was naturally complaining about how the movie was depressing and sad. Kari said, "I liked it. It was real life." I then said something very mature along the lines of, "But I want the fairy tale, dammit!" followed by lots of internal grumbling about real life and how movies are supposed to be an escape from that....blah blah blah.

She's right (won't be the first time). It's real life. In real life, every guy you'd like to date usually finds a reason to flake. In real life, people marry (or don't marry) for the wrong reasons and fall out of love and feel stressed out by kids. In real life, the timing is usually all jacked up. One's staying, one's leaving. There are families involved and in-laws and personal baggage. In real life, sometimes people cheat.

I came home to pack for a fun weekend in San Diego and found a billion e-mails from my boss about an event I'm planning, all just sitting there in my inbox waiting for when I get back. That is real life. Not San Diego, not the happy ending.

Sometimes I'm not good at real life. I don't want to deal. Or I don't know how to deal, so I run away mentally, physically, whatever. Apparently this is the fatal flaw of my Pisces brand. I'm really good at larger than life, which I think is why people generally like me.

I'm trying to get better at this real life thing: acknowledging it, stepping into it, messy-ing myself with it. And maybe, just maybe, one day actually liking it.

Dogtown

2010-01-08T01:00:00.002-05:00

I watched Lords of Dogtown tonight and it was bitchin'. These skater boys didn't care much about anything else, and that's why they revolutionized the sport.

I'm back to the grind after my lovely and lazy stay in Texas. NYC welcomed me back with a nasty cold (I think I'm on tissue box number 7). I'm trying to get all my personal business in order and do fun things before it's back to the school work grind in a few weeks. I feel like I should start writing about other stuff besides myself on this thing. More on that to come.

So far, my new year's resolutions are to pray more and to complete some type of athletic event (i.e. half marathon). I feel like those are reasonable. Probably the first reasonable resolutions I've ever had. New York Road Runners e-mailed me today to politely explain that I had been denied entry to their half marathon. Only in New York City is there a lottery system to wake up on an early morning in March and run 13 miles. Gosh I love this city.

I'm loving this schedule of only working 3 days a week. I could totally get into this lifestyle on a full time basis. It feel so much more peaceful and grounding. Surely stay at home roommate is a legit occupation...right?

Re-Connecting

2009-12-20T01:30:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I act and feel like a robot. My life becomes one long list of papers to write and appointments to make and e-mails to respond to and people to call and bills to pay. I worship the god called Productivity, and it gets me no farther than the Joneses. What it gets me is anxiety and joylessness and a lack of connection to the parts of me that are creative and funny and personal and life-giving.

Today I remembered that I like pop culture and funny people and writing. I've always loved to write. I remembered that I am human and an artist in my own way. With my words and my wit. And my love. I forget a lot--that I have my own things that make me...me. The robot spends far too much time modeling the success of others, trying to make it my own, when really it's not. The robot takes in and regurgitates and often short circuits from sensory overload.

I Google-stalked my new crush. He has articles and student reviews and fancy titles on the internet. I Google-stalked myself. I have a million other people with my same name. But we are not the same. It's easy to forget that we're not just a name in the sea of others. Not just one of many.

I am Jennifer Nicole Petersen. I was the best reader in my kindergarten class. I am a smart ass. I'd have a hard time labeling all the states on a U.S. map. Today I had to Wikipedia "Scandinavia" to make sure I was clear as to what countries aforementioned crush was referring to in our conversation the other night. I use names of internet search engines as verbs. I don't know shit about history, but I am smart. I know pretty much every word to The Lion King Soundtrack and my role models growing up were the members of The Babysitters Club. Yes, the book characters.

Take that, Robot.

Chick Lit Theory

2009-12-02T00:53:00.002-05:00

I'm so freakin' tired. But alas, I have made a pact to write, so write I must.

The good thing about being ridiculously stressed out with school right now is that all of my classmates are in the same boat, and we all know that misery loves company. So today, for example, when I should have been reading about theories of substance abuse addiction, I actually had a 2 hour conversation in the library with some girls from my class about boys, of course. Because what topic could be more interesting than that? Let's see, we covered the basics of:

- Dating in NYC
- Marriage
- The Rules, which is apparently a life-changing book that I must read
- Learning that I already practice "The Rules" without even knowing it

Comeback

2009-11-17T21:34:00.004-05:00

I keep reading blogs, websites and other such interfaces that friends or quasi friends have created and, to be perfectly honest, I am jealous. I think, "Well, I could do that" or "I've always wanted to do that" or "I'm definitely funnier than she is."

The deal is, these people are doing things. They are putting their prose out there and I, quite frankly, am not. Until now.

I'm going to stop freaking whining about wanting to write and just do it already. Also, I need to start making some room for myself to figure things out and keep it real. Like the guts-inside-out kind of real. I have about 1.5 more years of grad student-dom and I will be trying to resolve some things in myself and the world that simply won't be put to rest by a glass of wine and episode of Glee after a long day.

"Wherever you go, there you Are."

Sometimes I think I can run from things--from feelings and parts of myself I'd rather not acknowledge, much less confront. Things I thought I would outgrow but have, in fact, lingered as unwelcome visitors.

I seem to have a knack for turning potentially great experiences into burdensome ventures. Right now, I'm in an internship for school. It sounds great in theory. Work with parents in poor communities. Fight for education reform. Better our public schools. And, for some reason, I can't seem to connect with most of what I'm doing. Being hypercritical of everyone and everything certainly doesn't help matters.

Trust me, there is a lot to flesh out with this, but sleep calls loudly right now.

There's also a boy (there's always a boy). He dropped off the planet as of last week. Same song, different verse. What the hell is wrong with men? It's like they want to date a prop and not a real person. Heaven forbid we make them break a sweat to chase us.

Ok, I will stop now. I promise. But those were some good lines....

I'm back.

Mid-life 20's?

2009-09-18T18:50:00.002-04:00

Starting new things is hard. I forgot about that. New school, new peers, new job, new co-workers. It's weird. It makes me realize how wonderful it is to have people who know and love me and who I can be totally free with.

Starting new also makes me remember how scared I am of a lot of things and how impatient I can be with adjustment periods. I recently finished reading The Time Traveler's Wife (which, by the way, was just ok). Clare and Henry are about to get married so Henry's just tried out a new drug to help him stay in the present for their wedding. It's overkill and he's high on life. He asks Clare to join him and she says, "no" to which Henry replies, "You are so good. I shouldn't be trying to corrupt you." And then Clare says to him:

"I'm not good. I'm afraid."

I don't know why, but that resonated so much with me.
I remember at my interview for social work school they asked us about a regret that we had and I remember having a hard time coming up with an answer. And then it dawned on me that I regret not having more regrets aka not taking enough risks when I was younger and trying too hard to be perfect. Now I'm older and having to learn that, and it's hard. How do you set yourself up to mess up (and provide yourself grace when you do) when you've spent most of your life running from that very thing? I'm not so sure, but I did see a quote on my classmate's water bottle the other day that says, "Do 1 thing every day that makes you nervous." So I guess that's a start.

Staycation

2009-08-20T01:21:00.003-04:00

I've been relishing my post-work, pre-grad school days of freedom. Here's what I've been up to:

Sunday
- Beach (Long Beach)

Monday
- Beach (Robert Moses)

Tuesday
- Organizing and decorating the apt.
- Running
- Drinking wine and watching Mad Men

Wednesday
- Lunch with Jessica from Hope for New York
- Shopping
- Chelsea Market for a cupcake at Amy's Bread
- First visit to the High Line
- Dinner w/ Heather in Meatpacking
- Soaking up the view at the pier

Such a hard life I lead :)

A Biographical Vomit of Sorts

2009-05-13T13:52:00.004-04:00

I just read this article in Relavant magazine about how wonderful your 30's are because you start to be treated like a legit adult and how confusing your 20's are because you're trying to figure yourself out and so on and so forth. I think he was basically saying not to sweat your 20's though he did state that a lot of the choices we make in our 20's can take us in radically different directions.

I grew up in a Catholic family and went to more Christian summer camps than I can count when I was in middle school and high school. Something about those experiences spoke to me, and I wanted to be on the "right" path and be "on fire" for God, so I took to heart everything I learned at camp. I worshipped my counselors, my Christian coaches at school, my youth group leaders. I poured myself into church and mission trips and FCA and being a "leader for Christ". I joined a Christian sorority in college and a Christian organization that helps inner city kids and did Bible studies and devotions and listened to Christian music and wrote letters to family members encouraging them to walk on what I thought was the "straight and narrow."

And under all of that I always craved an adventure. I was drawn to bohemians and new places and intruiged by alternative lifestyles. A group of my very best friends in high school were lesbians. I love them to death and they still teach me a lot though we're not as in touch. They jokingly called me "Jesus with a vagina", which, crude as it is, still makes me laugh.

I spent a lot of my growing up trying so hard to be "good." Looking back, maybe some of that was an outlet for me because I always felt a bit insecure, about my height, my body, my acne. I was always friends with everyone in the cool group, but never felt quite cool enough myself to really own my place in their midst.

And then I moved to New York and realized drinking is not of the devil, everyone and their mom is having sex, and most people don't really "do"' the church thing. Granted, I still poured myself into the church scene, and, for better or worse, that's where a lot of my good friends seem to derive from...and, of course, Texas.

I have run the gamit of emotions about this change of pace and culture and lifestyle and ideology that I ebarked on almost 5 years ago. Sometimes grateful for my spiritual grounding, but a lot of times ashamed or embarrassd. Of what, I'm not so sure. Most of my spiritutal endeavors were self imposed, so it's not like I have an oppressive family to blame. I go in and out of wanting to do the church things. It constantly draws me back because there is something about radical grace and talk of Jesus that is alluring and some of the most counter cultural stuff I've ever heard. But then there is the church stuff that makes me want to run: the small groups, the lingo, the service. All of it makes me feel so freaking exhausted. And I think that's kind of what I used to feel like a lot, hopping from one do-gooder thing to the next, trying to live up to some kind of spirtual expectation I had of myself.

I think right now I just need to start over. If church and churchy things seem a little too exhausting, then maybe that's just not where I need to be right now. I think I'm just going to sit down with a pastor and be like, "Here's the deal..." I just want to start over and figure some stuff out and learn how to own my past a bit more without feeling like I spent all those years wrapped up in Christian activities because I couldn't face the real world. I want to learn how to reconcile some radical committments I made in years past (absitinence, pro-life, Jesus being the only way) with reality. I want to know how one determines what they can truly stand firm on and move forward in that.

More of the Same of the Winter and Such

2009-02-26T01:19:00.005-05:00

Today was a day of much waiting on trains and waiting on trains some more. I'm in official mourning for the existence of winter, particularly this winter. My nails are painted dark, I push snooze at least 5 times every morning, come straight home after work and am refusing to exercise until it's warm enough to run outside. It's felt freeing to resign to the reality that very few things are redeeming at this point in the year.

I'm officially going to South America for 2 weeks in May, and I am so freakin' excited. My main mission will entail: 1) getting tan on the beaches of Rio and 2) finding myself a Latin lover to bring back as a souvenir. What can I say, I'm an ambitious gal.

I've been trying to fight a disconnected feeling lately. Sometimes I feel like there is a deep, underlying resistance to my truly settling in this city. It's more the sense that I never feel completely "at home." I'll have these moments where I stop and think about how far away I am from where I grew up and my family and year-round warm weather and people who say "y'all" and people who care more about high school sports than politics. I worry that I hold back to0 much here and try so hard to exude a certain image that I've lost my own in the process. It's a legit fear, I think.

There's this word that comes to mind a lot every since reading about it last year. It's a Hebrew word called "T'shuva", and it means both repentance and returning home (as in to old customs and values). The author Rob Bell talks about it as a call to be who we were created to be, our "first self" so to speak. I like that. I want that. I need that.

Orange Cats and Physics Profs

2009-02-18T00:18:00.009-05:00

This is my cat Rudy:

He is quite adorable. Maybe even the most adorable cat ever. But all that cuteness can be deceiving. Let's see, in the past day he has managed to de-thread my new rug, knock over my trash can and break the full length mirror in my bedroom. He is a little terrorist/con artist in the making. Who would expect such evil from a face like that? He was found in a dumpster in the Bronx (aww..can you believe that?), so I think the street cat Rudy has been comin' on full force..

In other news, tonight I went to hear the author of this book speak at the Tenement Museum:

The subtitle reads:

"How we got from the company man, family dinners and Affluent Society to the Home Office, BlackBerry Moms, and Economic Anxiety."

So, being the Sociology major that I am, I naturally had to attend this event. That and the fact that my actual work very rarely requires that I think deeply about things I'm interested in...or really anything.

I met a nice old man there named Bernie. He's a retired NYU physics professor and apparently had never made it down to the Lower East Side after all these years. He treated me to a cup of coffee afterward (think grandfather figure, not dirty old man) and we talked about the book event and his family and he gave me some good wisdom about grad schools. It was really refreshing.

It is almost 1am, and I am going to hate myself in the morning. I pull this stunt pretty much every single night--promising that I'll make it to bed by 11, not following through and then wanting to kick mysel the next day at work. What's an inherent night owl to do?

Truth be told, I like staying up late because this is when I start to feel most alive. I've always had issues with anxiety, particularly in the mornings. It's kind of like that nervous/stressed feeling you get before taking a big test or going on an interview--except I feel that every day. I don't know if that's normal. Not that I care a whole lot about being "normal" (whatever that is), it just might be nice to know that someone else gets what I'm talking about. Usually a couple hours into my work day it starts to fade. And it's good knowing it will fade, but it can also get kind of exhausting going through the same emotional routine every morning.

I used to just pray that it would go away, and I wanted to just curl up in a ball until it did. But lately I've been trying to understand a bit more about what God has to say about weakness. Apparently, these sorts of things are actually strengths in His world. If only I could wrap my mind around that kind of truth. I'm trying...to learn how to look at my flaws, my burdens as gain, as acknowledgement that He is most strong when I am not. I look forward to keeping you posted on how that goes...

Singin' the Wintertime Blues

2009-02-17T00:53:00.002-05:00

I'm in the middle of the cruelest winter since moving here 4 and a half years ago. It's dark and freezing and there's not even a place nearby to order takeout from. And did I mention I'm tired of my face hurting every time I walk to the subway? It's ridiculous feeling like a brisk 5 minute walk to the train requires full combat gear.

It's not like I haven't been through this season before, and if there's one thing I've learned it's that there's no changing things. You just gotta grit your teeth, pray that it will be over soon, and hold on for dear life to the things that comfort and feel like home: food, friends, favorite bars, Gossip Girl, red wine, and boyfriend if you're lucky enough to have one during these harsh arctic months.

At this point, I'd be ok with staying in my apartment by the heater (not that it actually works on regular basis) until the weather is at least a tolerable 53 degrees again. But alas, life must go on. It must be the weather that makes me so freakin' homesick this time of year. I remembered blogging about home a while back and, as irony would have it, I wrote that entry exactly 4 years ago to the date. Weird, right? I guess the winter funk is a legit thing: Home Field Advantage

Seriously though, this puffy down comforter is calling my name. If I'm lucky, it will be summer when I wake up.

Filling Up

2009-01-14T23:47:00.002-05:00

My group joined another group for Bible study tonight, and it was good. It's been a while since I truly studied the Bible. It reminded me of college. And for all of the time I spent in studies and small groups and ministries while in college, one would think I'd have a pretty sound knowledge of the Bible. The reality is quite the opposite. For some reason, it never stuck. Maybe because I just took what I wanted from it, whatever fit my emotional needs at the time. Maybe because I was afraid to ask questions and was more concerned about playing the part of this spiritually wise person who knew what I was talking about. Yeah--it was probably more that than anything. Lately, it's because I spend so much energy trying to figure out whether God is real or not that I never quite get to the other stuff. My thoughts just chase themselves around in a vicious questioning of faith leading to not much of anywhere except more discontentment, frustration and hostility.

So tonight we read and studied a couple chapters of Ephesians. I've always liked the words of the Bible though I often don't grasp their meaning. Sometimes the verses are beautifully worded but seem to say a lot without saying anything at all. It's just difficult to put everything in context and get what the authors were trying to express. And it's also difficult to not just pick out parts that sound pretty and apply them to your life as feel-good phrases.

Well, my "feel-good phrase" for the evening was in Chapter 2, verse 14 where it says, "For he himself [Christ] is our peace..." It hit home for me. Peace, fulfillment, contentment...all things I've been reflecting on and challenged with lately. I tend to run to things to feel validated, to make anxiety go away, to feel whole and needed: guys, work, having a full social calendar, being around lots of people, running in the mornings. All good things but all things that I know will ultimately still leave me with empty parts and unfulfilled longings. In church and all the "Christiany" things I did growing up, we were always told that Jesus is the one who fills us, gives us our identity, the ultimate healer and fulfiller of our deepest desires. Of course I want that. Who wouldn't? But what does it mean? What does it mean to let Him be our peace and fill us and all of that? It seems so abstract. No one ever seemed to get to that part of the equation. They just stopped at Jesus saves.

I guess I should just ask Him and see....

Mud Hoppers

2009-01-12T00:03:00.003-05:00

I just spent the last 3 hours working on social work school applications, and I still have this freak-out feeling in my chest. I'm overwhelmed, but at the same time there's some sort of peace buried beneath all of this anxiety and doubting and whatever other crap is jumbled together inside.

The guy I've been dating a couple months broke it off yesterday. Which is fine. It was more mutual. For all of our points of connection, spiritually we just weren't headed down the same road. And the thing is, it's no one's fault. It just is. And it's hard to understand why God is real to some people and not to others. And how individuals can be so connected in vision but not in heart. It's just hard. So I'm going to have my brief pity party and move on. Because that's what you gotta do.

For all the stress and emotion, I never imagined I'd actually get this far in the application process. I like to talk about and think about things a lot, and the panic of actually doing them is quite often paralyzing. Sometimes it makes no sense, but that is just my reality, and at some point I decided to pick one foot out of the mud and then the other and so on and so forth. And so I'm gonna keep truckin' on and writing about it and doing what I need to do to not stay stuck. Tomorrow is another day.

Keepin' it Light

2009-01-06T23:50:00.005-05:00

I think my blog entries are kind of depressing. Yikes--who knew I was such a Debby Downer?
In other news, what I should really be doing right now is working on my grad school essays, but I'm not. I'm procrastinating just like I did last night and the night before and the week before and...

Who the hell wants to answer a questions like this:

"Discuss what makes a small group or team a successful community. Discuss a situation in which a small group or team you were a part of succeeded or failed and what significant learning you took away from the experience."
lame.
I think a successful team is full of sharing, caring, butterflies, roses, rainbows and cute puppies. One time this girl in my girl scout troupe beat me out as the top cookie seller. What I learned from this defeat is that kids should sell their own cookies and not mooch off their parents' professional connections.

"What are your short-term and long-term professional aspirations?"
My short term goal is to make it through the work day tomorrow without asking myself even once, "What am I doing here?"
Looking long-term, I would like to feel like I'm actually serving some sort of deeper purpose at least one day of the work week. I've also always been pretty proud of my stellar gift wrapping skills and have often dreamed of making it to the big time as a professional gift wrapper at Macy's, the mecca of retailers. As you can see, I am a pretty ambitious individual.

"What significant personal and/or professional factors have most informed your present outlook?"
Professionally, I have found the "real world" to be quite overrated which makes me the perfect candidate for grad school. On a more personal level, being introduced to mac & cheese at such a young age has proved to be a life changing event. It is probably the greatest food ever invented and my outlook on life indeed would not be as cheese-tastic without it.

...and who says I'm not productive?

To Be Known

2008-10-30T00:07:00.002-04:00

When the going gets tough or sad or lonely or any sentiment in that general direction, why does my flight instinct always seem to trump the fight one? Sometimes I am just tired of being around people who don't understand me, who don't share my vision or even want to talk about theirs. Sometimes I am just tired and want to breathe and not to feel like showing my true colors is such a relentless upstream battle. Sometimes I just want to feel known more than the instant I come home at the end of every day. Sometimes I wish those around me would share my longing to be connected with them on the most human of levels. Sometimes I want to see with lenses of redemption to trump the stale and the cold. Sometimes I wish that every time and place was appropriate for depth to be revealed...and most times I wish for possessing no concept of appropriate.
Often I hope to be truly free.

Uncovering Truth

2008-10-27T00:29:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I just get into these moods where I'm frustrated and hyper-critical about everything and nothing in particular. I've been on this kick lately about people acting fake. It's like I notice it in one person and all of a sudden the whole damn city seems full of phonies to me. Even at church. I take that back....most especially at church. The thing is, I do love people on an individual level. I mean, we're all human and we have pasts and cool stories of redemption and funny quirks and all that stuff. But sometimes in the collective, people just act straight up ridiculous and I just want to shake them and say, "cut the bullshit already!"

And in New York especially I just feel like people can't relax. Everyone's got to put on their cool face and look sharp and speak intellectually and exude whatever it is they think they should be. It can be absolutely exhausting.

Tonight at church, the sermon was about marriage and the man and woman's roles within that context, and I like what he had to say but at the same time felt a little bit discouraged. I don't think that very many people in this city have faith in marriage, and sometimes I'm not sure I do either. I mean, in theory I think I do. But I also think that people are inundated with so many bad messages about marriage (among other things), they're unable to wrap their minds around its goodness. I don't know why that makes me sad, but it does. People here are so hardened. Maybe everyone is, I just think it's here because this is where I happened to land when the scales of idealism finally fell from my eyes.

Being

2008-10-11T13:43:00.005-04:00

So on Tuesday I called in sick (which I really was) and was a bit struck by the anxiety/guilt/whatever you wanna call it I felt at the prospect of having nothing to do. I logged into my work e-mail account only to quickly sign off upon realizing that the whole point of taking a sick day is to rest and not work. But what is it that 1.)makes us feel guilty for not being "productive"? and
2) causes anxiety and maybe even a slight loss of self when there is nothing to busy ourselves with? Is it an American thing? A human thing? A cultural/environmental thing? I'm not exactly sure, but it made me think of a couple books by Christian authors that I've read in the past few months. Here's what they had to say about this issue:

"There are many layers to the healing of the soul. One practice that has brought incredible healing is the taking of a Sabbath...I have learned the real issue behind the Sabbath isn't which day of the week it is but how we live all the time.

I decided to start taking one day a week to cease from work. And what I discovered is that I couldn't even do it at first.
I would go into a depression.
By the afternoon I would be so...low.
I realized that my life was all about keeping the adrenaline buzz going and that I was only really happy when I was going all the time. When I stopped to spend a day to remember that I am loved just because I exist, I found out how much of my efforts were about earning something I already have.
Sabbath is taking a day a week to remind myself that i did not make the world and that it will continue to exist without my efforts.
Sabbath is a day when my work is done, even if it isn't.
Sabbath is a day when my job is to enjoy. Period.
Sabbath is a day when I am fully available to myself and those I love most.
Sabbath is a day when I produce nothing.
Sabbath is a day when I remind myself that I am not a machine.
Sabbath is a day when at the end I say, "I didn't do anything today," and I don't add, "And I feel so guilty."
It is so hard to look deep inside yourself. My experience has been that very few people do the long, hard work of the soul.
- Rob Bell, Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith

"If I try to hold still, my soul reacts like a feather in the afternoon breeze, flitting from place to place without purpose or direction. Theologians refer to this condition as "ontological lightness," the reality that when I stop "doing" and simply listen to my heart, I am not anchored to anything substantive. I become aware that my very identity is synonymous with activity.
In order to learn who we really are, we must have a place in our lives where we are removed from the materialism, entertainment, diversion, and busyness that the Vanity Fair of our society and culture immerse us in. As we leave these less-wild lovers behind and enter into solitude and silence in our own desert place, the first thing we encounter is not rest, but fear, and a compulsion to return to activity. In The Ascent to Truth, Thomas Merton says,
'We look for rest & if we find it, it becomes intolerable. Incapable of the divine activity which alone can satisfy...fallen man flings himself upon exterior things, not so much for their own sake as for the sake of agitation which keeps his spirit pleasantly numb...[The distraction] diverts us aside from the one thing that can help us to being our ascent to truth...the sense of our own emptiness.'
Brent Curtis & John Eldredge, The Sacred Romance

Today I've eaten breakfast with my roommate, played with my cat, and talked politics and other things with my dad over the phone. It's almost 3:00 on a Saturday afternoon, and I am still sitting in bed in my pajamas. It's a beautiful day, the sun is streaming through my windows and yet I don't feel in any sort of rush to be anywhere or do anything. That, my friends, is a Sabbath well spent.

Stepping Out

2008-09-16T00:24:00.003-04:00

I recently settled upon the fact that I work for the weekends. And now I am coming to terms with the fact that the weekends are just too short of a thing to be working for. I'm torn between being unchallenged in my current role and being fearful of the stress that comes with added responsibilities. I've been down that road before, and it was too much and I quit. Something tells me it's time to stop being such a wuss and just trust that I won't fall apart at the prospect of a challenge.

I've been reading My Sister's Keeper (Jodi Picoult) and found a bit of hope in these few lines of thought from a dad about his family's trials:

"It seems remarkable that while one of our daughters is leading us into a legal crisis, the other is in the throes of a medical one--but then again, we have known for quite some time that Kate's at the end stages of renal failure...it is Anna, this time, who's thrown us for a loop. And Yet--like always--you figure it out; you manage to deal with both. The human capacity for burden is like bamboo--far more flexible then you'd ever believe at first glance."

Maybe it's time to step out and start thinking of myself more as bamboo rather than a fragile piece of porcelain or a twig that may snap in half at the slightest weight. Maybe it's time to trust something bigger than myself.

Happy Anniversary

2008-09-11T00:31:00.003-04:00

Today marked my 4 year anniversary of making the big move from Texas to New York City. 4 years...who would have thought? Certainly not me. In celebration of this milestone, Kari and I trecked to our old neighborhood (the East Village) to dine at Sidewalk Cafe which was the very first place she took me to eat when I first moved here. Awww...how romantic (or something like that). I still remember what I ordered that long ago (a California burger) and what I was wearing (jeans and a sleeveless black shirt). I'm really good at taking mental snapshots wherever I am, though I do realize it's a bit freakish to remember what you or anyone else was wearing at some random event 10 years ago. My memory is a superpower, what can I say?

Tonight was the first time either of us have gone back to the East Village since moving out last month. I love Brooklyn, but I must say we were both surprised by how much we miss the 'hood. But I guess it makes sense that if you park yourself somewhere for 4 years after making a dramatic move, it's bound to have some sticking power. It just becomes a part of you somehow. And that's good. Missing something is good because it means you invested.

To finish our evening of celebrating city life we (naturally) watched a couple episodes of Sex & the City. All hype and touristy crap aside, Manhattan does have a sort of magic about it. I both love and hate it in the same breath. At lunch I ate on the roof deck of my office building where I could see the Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty while downing my Cheetos and turkey sandwich. Indeed there is no other place like this on earth. f

Value

2008-09-08T01:34:00.002-04:00

Reflection is an art...that adds value--more like, extracts the value--from minutes and hours and days and weeks and months and years and...a lifetime. I've delved into this art as of late and like what I am finding: connection.

Mr. Buckley made us turn in a journal entry every single day for a semester in high school with our high point and low point. We hated him for it, but really loved him. He knew the value in the art...of reflection.

I think that my grandpa may be dying, but I don't know what I feel or if he is really dying. Disconnected because I'm not there and unsure of the closeness of our relationship and unable to deal with the inability of that side of the family to confront these sorts of matters. I need to reach him in my own way. I'm just not sure what that is. I need to think.

My best friend told me today that I won't find a man in New York. She was halfway sarcastic seeing as those statements are part of her ploy to get me back to Texas. But it might be kind of true. I mean, there's gotta be someone I'm into who's not off the market already. I fear my "type" may not be a breed that flourishes in the big apple. Not really sure where that leaves me (besides single).

I walked 8 miles today exploring Brooklyn. My feet hurt.

Playground

2008-09-02T23:56:00.002-04:00

Tonight my roomate Josh and I took a late night walk to drop Moni off at the train and do a bit of exploring in the 'hood. We ended up at the playground by my apartment, and for a second I felt like a kid again climbing the monkey bars, going down the slide and attempting (in vain) to do a chin-up. I always freakin' hated in middle school when chin ups were part of the physical education test. Umm, hello...some of us have giraffe length arms and have a longer distance to hoist ourselves. But whatever--I'm over it.

Anyways, now I'm all excited about this park because it has a basketball court. Not that I'm a hardcore street baller or anything, but it'd be nice to get out a shoot a few hoops for old times sake. I think I'll go buy a basketball after work tomorrow. I love living in Brooklyn cuz it's kinda suburban (for New York, that is) and kinda city. It's just nice to have space and simple luxuries like a grill and a linen closet. I've been breathing so much easier this past month. I don't think I fully realized how uptight I've felt the past four years until I moved. 4 years of not feeling relaxed--that is somethin' else. People here are just normal folk, ya know. They grew up here and don't care so much about being in any kind of scene besides whatever action is going on over at the neighbors stoop. I dig that--just normal stoop folk doin' their normal everyday thing. I dig feeling more relaxed and being a little bit of a kid again. Yeah, Brooklyn is a good new era.

Happenings

2008-09-02T01:24:00.010-04:00

Hmmm...lots to say but nothing to write. This is where I went this weekend:

Montauk=my happy place. It is beautiful and tranquil and one of the most healing places I know.

This is my new haircut:

I dig it. Hope you do too.

And this is my new neighborhood. More specifically, the annual West Indie Day Parade that went down today right on my block. Jerk Chicken & Meat Patties anyone?

These are the things I'd rather be doing tomorrow than work:

- laundry

- going back to Montauk

- decorating my apartment

- escaping reality

And on that note...my life in pictures shall be continued on another day. Whoever is still reading this, please drop me a line. I miss you!

Sacred

2008-06-29T23:55:00.004-04:00

"Religion is not primarily about God, but about the human need for the sacred...moments that stand outside time, in which the loneliness and anxiety of the human individual is confronted and overcome through immersion in the group."

- Roger Scruton

Connected

2008-05-13T22:31:00.001-04:00

Community makes me feel sane and connected---and I like that. That's all. Goodnight.

Sad

2008-04-27T15:16:00.005-04:00

Heaviness that weighs
Wishing it a phase
That passes...
But it stays
And stays
And stays

Yearning for a solid
Truth
But it is not out there
It is here
it is here
It is here

Engage
Quarrel like lovers
and conquer
conquer
free...

Real

2008-04-23T23:17:00.005-04:00

I like that I have a blog--until I go back and actually read it--at which point I say to myself, "What the hell was I thinking? And why did I think what I was saying at that time was all deep and sentimental?" Quite frankly, I am often embarrassed by my own thoughts, or maybe just my lack of eloquence.

I went to a concert tonight for this guy named Thad Cockrell. He's a high-voiced folksy country singer-songwriter type who carries a particular depth to his art that adds a very real texture to his words and demeanor. It's as if he were on stage singing songs more for his own sanity than anything.

He talks about Jesus in one song, and I thought about how a lot of folks (especially where I come from) would think he was an artist to celebrate even if his music were shitty (which it isn't) just because he gave a shout out to this religious figure.

...Which made me ponder my own allegiance to Jesus and the Christian faith and why I believe the things that I do. And, at the end of the day, I do not have faith because the historical evidence points to the existence of a God man and the accuracy of his miracles. Nor do I have faith because I was always taught it's a good thing to exercise. I'm fairly certain I have faith in the existence of something higher than myself simply because I want to. I want to believe there's a better hope than what's around me and what's inside of me and that one day all of the broken parts of myself and this world will be made whole. And that's really it. Sometimes that's all I've got to get me out of bed in the morning.

Silent Night

2007-12-16T22:29:00.000-05:00

I have the apartment to myself for the next week, and so far I feel like a teenager whose parents have left for vacation-- freedom! Not that Kari acts like my mom or anything, it's just nice being as loud and naked as I want. Umm....so let's see, here's what's been going on:

Job-- was having a bad attitude for a while, but then I started to get my ass in gear a bit more and continue to find more redeeming things about working in HR. Plus, it pays the bills and allows me to have a social life, so how bad can that be, right?

Social-- it has been a holiday season of visitors and me being spoiled by family members who've come in town. After the mad Thanksgiving rush of visitors I've had some time to do normal things like come home right after work, go running and cook dinner. Good times. I felt very artsy fartsy this weekend as I went to a musical on Friday night called Serenade, and the Juilliard end-of-semester dance performance last night. My Texas crew (Jules, Kari, Sarah, Moni) are all still here and keeping me grounded.

Spiritual/Mental-- I've actually been trying out some daily spiritual disciplines, mostly stemming from a recent surge of anxiety that came pretty much out of nowhere. I'm reading a book called Exchange Your Worries for God's Perfect Peace which I know sounds like some completely cheesy book one might order from an infomercial. But it's helped remind me of who God is in the midst of feeling un-anchored. I haven't been real big on church attendance lately, but am still very committed to my small group that meets weekly.

Travel-- It has been the month-o-travel as I've been to Texas twice for friends' weddings (Christian & Carlos) with a stop in Vegas in between. Grandma definitely won more money than I did on the slots. I think I would like to finally cross an ocean at some point in 2008. Oh yeah, and I'm heading to Texas next Saturday, so hang out with me!

Men-- Still find myself having totally unrealistic crushes and going on lots of dates that don't amount to relationships. That seems to be the New York way--though still holding on to the hope that I will eventually meet someone I'd want to write home about. In the meantime, I've actually learned a lot from every guy that I've been out with, not just about the other person but about myself (primarily my dating weirdnesses) and how to navigate uncomfortable conversation topics and differing perspectives...so that's all good and I have no regrets.

Reading-- I am currently reading Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, and it is fabulous so far. I am also a new subscriber to Rolling Stone magazine.

Christmas Shopping-- I have not done this yet and should probably get on that.

Ok, I am running out of topics. Nighty night.

Urban Retreat

2007-11-04T03:27:00.000-05:00

Without planning, I managed to show up at the Hudson River just in time for sunset tonight. And, man did I need a sunset. I was attempting to go to Montauk today to be at one with nature, but I managed to sleep through all the trains, so that didn't quite work out. My insides have been screaming for a change of scenery lately, which is why I decided to embark on my East to West walk across Manhattan this evening. Sometimes I think God just leads us to things we need to see...and today it was this piece of serenity in the insanest of cities.

My second urban retreat of the day was a diner on the Upper West side followed by a stroll through Barnes & Noble and a final stop at my local coffee shop, Cafe Pick-Me-Up, for a little late night reading. It was no Montauk, but one of the more relaxing days I've had in the city in a while. Tomorrow I'm headed to the North Fork of Long Island to check out the wineries, then Thursday it's Las Vegas or bust to meet up with the mom, aunt and grandma.

Today was the first time I've written for a long while. I wrote at the diner, the coffeeshop and here for the web-surfers' eyes. It seems the floodgates have re-opened. I've had a season of feeling uncreative and stifled, but perhaps that is drawing to a close. Most of what I wrote today was me trying to understand my reasons for living here. Let's be honest, it's been a love-hate relationship from the get-go. It was a tough go at first, and then I began discovering New York's more redemptive qualities: summertime, the East Village, the wear-whatever attitude....so we've shared some long embraces, the City and I. Today was about hashing out the negatives-- those which can be reconciled and those which cannot:

I've concluded that there is a minimum square footage that determines a healthy living space for an individual. Though I don't know the exact number, I am certain my apartment's surface area falls short of it. This ongoing issue of 3+ years will most certainly be reconciled come July 31st when our lease expires and we go in search of more space and less rent in Brooklyn.

There are a few strategic areas (and I fear this number is growing) of the City which exist only to be whored out to tourists. Yes, I did use the word whore because that is how strongly I feel about the matter. These include Herald Square (where my job happens to be located), home of the world's most ginormous Macy's and other supersized retailers; Time Square, home to all things cheesy, commercial and straight up ghetto; Little Italy, where one would be hard-pressed to find any traces of authentic Italian cuisine and is soon to be overtaken by it's neighboring superpower, Chinatown. Even my own neighborhood seems to be changing overnight. I am starting to feel like the old-timer around these part at the ripe old age of 25. Streets that most up-towners had never even heard of before are now home to ultra hip clubs with lines of ultra cool hipsters waiting to get in on "the scene". I first took notice of all these happenings when my favorite neighborhood coffee shop, Lalita Java, became a Cuban restaurant literally overnight. It freaked me out. Lalita was a neighborhood staple and had been for nearly 10 years, long before I ever lived around these parts and long before people were even brave enough to venture into this area. For those unaware of the East Village's history, it has been the longtime home to drug addicts, squaters, protestors...a neighborhood deeply rooted in rebellion and an appreciation of art (think "Rent").

The question I mulled over today is, "Is this a negative that can be reconciled?" I do not know. On the one hand, change is inevitable, especially in New York City. I remember the tour guide on my Circle Line Cruise once said, "If you don't like New York, just wait a couple years"....making light of it's transcient nature. I was deeply moved by something I read in Tuesdays With Morrie several months ago. He pointed out that every culture has it's problems and that a lot of people run away looking for better only to find a whole new set of problems. The key, he says, is to press in and create your own culture wherever you are. He also said that it's difficult and most people can't do it. I wonder if I've done that here or if it's just too difficult. I wonder if that will ever even happen on a mass scale here. I wonder if my back and forth of "unsettledness" is an indication I simply do not fit this lifestyle or that the best is yet to come. Or maybe it is simply that my idea of God working through me is not the same as His. Will me "loving my neighbor" really help ignite a greater sense of ownership and authenticity here? Is that really even the point? I am unsure. One thing I am certain of is that my place here has little to do with my career, my experiences, my cultural saavy and everything to do with loving and investing in those around me. Ironically, I only recently figured that out.

Lately I've grappled with the alternative, which would be moving back home, to Texas, probably Austin. There are many things I miss about my home state. My family is one of them. But when I think about leaving New York I can't deny the saddness I feel. This is where I have grown up as an adult, if that makes sense. What determines when it's time? Or will it ever be time? The thought of leaving and staying equally freak me out. So, for now I'm going with Morrie's theory-- don't run away. stay. create your own culture.

Book Smarts and Radical Grace

2007-09-03T22:20:00.000-04:00

So sad to see my long 4-day weekend come to a close. I didn't really get around to half of the things on my ambitious list of adventures to partake in, but overall I feel rested....and resting is what weekends are for. It's funny because I always have grand ideas of activities I want to do and places I want to explore in NYC and beyond, and yet when it comes down to it, one of the most fulfilling things I end up doing with my time off is sitting in the park and reading. Simple pleasures always seem to win out in the end.

Today I just finished Unhooked by Laura Sessions. It's basically about the hookup culture of my generation and how it's disabling us from developing authentic, healthy romantic relationships with the opposite sex. I do agree with her on many points, and the facts are quite disturbing. But I see such a different model for relationships among Christians (not that they're perfect either), that it keeps me hopeful there will still continue to be models of true love rooted in complete respect for another. And, at the book's end, the author does point out that those with spiritual roots are less likely to take part in to the hookup culture...so that's that. If she would have just interviewed me from the get go, I probably could have helped her come to that conclusion a little earlier in the game.

I may love buying new books as much as I love the actual reading of them. I found two books to purchase at a local garage sale (or I guess I should say "street sale" as Manhattan is not conducive to people having actual garages) and was ready to offer 10 bucks for the both when the Puerto Rican gentleman informed me it would be $2. "Each?", I asked. "No, one dollar per book", he replied. I had no idea deals like that even existed in this city. Needless to say, I was beaming all the way back to my apartment with my two classics in hand: Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar, and Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.

The irony of my love for reading is that, at the end of the day, I never feel quite book smart enough to be living here. I was especially aware of this at a BBQ I went to today....lawyer on my right, finance guru on my left, architect across from me. I didn't feel like I had much to contribute to the conversation. I know I'm intelligent, just not in the same way as a lot of the people here. They are intellectuals. I have social smarts. I know that's ok, but it seems Northeasterners tend to value the former more than the latter, which often leaves me frustrated and sometimes disconnected feeling. It's almost like the people in this city are so accustomed to having to produce to feel accepted, to "prove" they have something to offer as if what's already there is not enough. I can better sympathize with the struggle my cousin faced in her two years of grad school here....always sensing the value she held to her classmates depended on the quickness of her responses in the classroom, the depth of her opinions, and often, the liberalness of her views. I pray that others would never feel like they have to "try" in my presence....that they would feel free to just be.

Maybe that is why God's grace is so difficult to accept....because we are so used to striving for others' approval that we cannot imagine someone loving us simply for being alive.

I've Been Tagged

2007-08-25T02:07:00.000-04:00

The Rules:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Here are my 8 random factoids:

1. I love bologna....I think I'm the only person who still orders the cold cut trio at Subway. When I was younger, my dad used to heat it up in a frying pan for breakfast, and I'd put it on my English muffin...to die for.

2. I took karate for 3 years in high school and got all the way to brown belt, so I guess you could say I have ninja skills (though secretly I don't really remember much of what I learned). I do remember that my favorite move was that mantis hand....supposedly your hand looks like a praying mantis when you do it. If you're lucky, I'll demo for you sometime.

3. I'm currently wearing a lovely black velcro boot on my foot that looks like a flipper one might wear to go scuba diving (only a bit shorter). I somehow managed to get a stress fracture, so I've been hobbling around NYC for the past few weeks....I'll post a pic of this lovely fashion accessory on my next blog.

4. I still think picking my boogers (not in public, of course) is a really rewarding practice.

5. Ever since seeing the movie Space Camp in 3rd grade I wanted to be an astronaut. Seriously, all the way through high school...until I realized I'm not so great at physics and engineering (which, according to my high school teacher, is what one needs to study to become an astronaut)

6. Sometimes I pretend my life is a movie, and I think about exactly how I want each scene to be played out.....keeps things interesting.

7. If I could sing like a black woman, I'd totally be in a gospel choir (lead, of course)

8. I have never seen The Princess Bride (which, apparently, makes me un-American or something)

Ok, those are my factoids. Here are the peeps I'm tagging: Asian Kate, Fens, Luke, Alex (4 will have to suffice b/c I can't think of anymore people w/ blogs)

Sweaty Sunday

2007-07-08T01:52:00.000-04:00

This is a picture I took of my sweaty self today after running 6 miles....that's right, 6 miles. Ok, so for some of you olympic athletes 6 miles is a mere jog in the park, but I think it's a lot....especially in the heat of the day, especially while breathing in the exhaust fumes from New York's FDR Highway.

So, basically I posted this picture:
1) so that you would feel sorry for (and proud of me) for all that running and
2) because I've never posted a pic on my blog and felt like today was as good a day as any to get started.

And to have an excuse to advertise that I'll be running the NYC Half Marathon on August 5th. Yikes, that's only a month away...and to think the distance I ran today was only half of the real thing. My lungs are collapsing just thinking about it. But for realz, if you are in the area (or want an excuse to be in the area) come on out at 7 am to cheer a sister on.

New York

2007-06-10T17:01:00.000-04:00

Definitely one of my favorite topics for analysis is how my move from Texas to New York and the 3 years I have spent here have changed me. Each time I visit my home state and come back I mull it over a little more....and think I might actually be at a point of articulation on the matter.

For all of the chaos and stress it has induced in my life, New York City has somehow ended up being the first place I have ever really felt at home with myself, comfortable in my own skin. Certainly not because it's a tranquil, calm and hospitable place to be. Maybe because it's not any of those things (initially) that I have been forced to reckon with myself and the world in a way I never have before. And because of that I am now grateful for all the shouting and all the people in the Bronx who thought I was a clueless white girl and all the dirty bums on the street corner begging for change and all the druggies in the park cursing the world and the reckless cab drivers and the horns and the boys at the shelter who punched walls and punched each other and hated me just because and all the attractive, charming guys who lacked in character and the moms who shouted "fuck" in front of their infant children and all of my co-workers who never thought I would succeed, much less stick around.....thank you for showing me that life is messy and I am messy and things are not perfect and that's just how it is right now...though one day they will be. Thank you for being all of you, for better or worse, for the world to see....it has helped (and at times forced) me to become all of me.

Fear

2007-04-15T23:48:00.000-04:00

It is almost midnight, and I should be asleep right now, especially since I started the process about 2 hours ago and especially since tomorrow is the first day of my new temp job. But what happens is that often when I lay down, these thoughts start attacking my brain and then one thing leads to another and here I am still awake and frustrated as hell.

Today I finished reading Tuesdays with Morrie. Basically, it is a book of wisdom imparted from a Sociology professor (Morrie) to his former student (Mitch, the author) in the final months of Morrie's life. During one of their sessions, Morrie talks of his most fearful moments when he felt closest to death. The excerpt was so striking, I can not help but share it:

These were horrifying times, he said, and his first emotions were horror, fear, anxiety. But once he recognized the feel of these emotions, their texture, their moisture, the shiver down the back, the quick flash of heat that crosses your brain--then he was able to say, 'Okay, this is fear. Step away from it. Step away.'

I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we're not supposed to cry...

Morrie's approach was exactly the opposite. Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. It will only help. If you let the fear inside, if you pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, 'All right, it's just fear. I don't have to let it control me. I see it for what it is.'

I'm not sure what else to say here, except that I long for days (and nights) when I can be as brave as Morrie and pull on fear like a familiar shirt.

Smart

2007-04-02T11:46:00.000-04:00

An older woman at church yesterday told me that she really liked my shoes. She said, "Those are really smart." I loved it. Smart shoes...sounds like something my grandma would say. It's like when people use the word handsome. I love how humbly dignified those old school words sound...let's start bringing them back.

I am still in Texas. Now that my dad is recovering nicely my brother is in the hospital. Apparently he has something called ulcerative colitis. You can go ahead and google that one on your own time. At this rate I had better leave town before I end up in a hospital bed with IV tubes coming out of my arms. All that to say my family has been glad to see the month of March come to an end.

Being in my hometown naturally makes me think of childhood....school, little league, youth group, volleyball, always feeling awkward. My dad's secretary also happens to be my 3rd grade teacher. 3rd grade...I was the smartest kid in my class, always won the spelling bee, was picked for class rep., broke my wrist playing soccer and was excited to have everyone sign my cast, was one of 3 girls in my class and the first to voluntarily play football with the boys at recess. I always made A honor roll, wanted to be friends with weird people (some things never change) and was thrilled when we got to clean our desks with shaving cream.

I can't help but wonder if those were my glory days. I always had this fight in me. I wanted to save the world and solve injustice and stand up for the nerds and freaks. I always loved black people and little kids and animals. I think that I still am all of those things....just a little more confused these days. My mom says that I am her "buffet girl" because I like a little bit of everything. Yesterday I told her I wanted to work on a farm and learn how to grow things and then teach inner city kids how to garden. I'm pretty sure this new whim further proved her theory. I think that being a buffet person is ok. The problem with us types is that we have trouble making decisions for fear that we'll be missing out on something better...we are a very restless breed which can lead to good things like starting a revolution or not-so-good things like never being content in the moment. I often fear the latter will prevent me from the former.

A few years back my pastor preached a series on wisdom from the book of Proverbs. His sermon on decision-making is one that I replay often. He said that looking back on his twenties probably 90% of the decisions he made were from selfish and "wrong" motives, and though he's not sure his percentage is much better now that he's in his 50's, God somehow still managed to bring him to where he's supposed to be. I have a hard time swallowing the fact that God is sovereign enough to work through our anxiety and stupidity and depression and selfishness and all kinds of shit. At times I've been able to digest it. I don't think now is one of those times. But I do think it's time to start making some decisions....small ones, maybe even "wrong" ones. Apparently I'm still able to pick out a "smart" pair of shoes on my own, so maybe there's still hope...

Home

2007-03-13T23:38:00.000-04:00

I am in Texas right now because my dad had open heart surgery. He's well on the road to recovery and came back from the hospital today. It's weird because I had been praying for an excuse to come back...not that I wanted it to be heart surgery, but it feels nice to be home, in a place where I can breathe. March and April have consistently been my least favorite months in New York because it's supposed to be Spring but it's not. It's still cold and snowing and my winter coat is disgustingly dirty but I don't wash it because I keep convincing myself that soon I won't be needing it anymore. The city just seems to get more claustrophobic and depressing and my body is screaming for sunlight, warm weather...pretty much all things not winter. Add unemployment to that mix, and the situation definitely calls for a change of scenery.

My favorite part of being back in Texas has been driving and listening to the radio. I forgot how peaceful it feels to be in a car by myself. I've missed being able to wear flip flops in March and enjoy the luxury of living in an actual house with normal-people sized rooms and appliances.

I like not feeling the pressures here that I do in New York. The pressure to get a great job and be somebody and change the world and blah blah blah. I'm just so over it. I'm so over everything being a hassle and crowded and freakin' overrated. I sometimes don't understand why I'm living there. In fact, I'm not really sure where I belong. I wish I could just focus in on something and stick with it. But lately I've been so scattered and restless. My mind keeps going in circles, and if one more person (except for you, Kate:) asks me how the job search is going I think I may scream. I don't have an answer. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. I don't know which city I belong in. I don't know which job I belong in. I guess for these next couple of weeks I belong here with my family...and that's about all I can say with certainty.

Looking Up

2007-02-22T12:08:00.000-05:00

Something about being outdoors always helps to put matters in perspective for me. I don't know what it is. Recognizing that God created the grass and the trees and the East River somehow helps me understand that He's probably got my life under control too....and then I go back to my apartment and manage to forget that beautiful epiphany.

Yesterday was the first time things felt remotely promising on the job front. I went to a staffing agency and met with some pleasant folks who seemed quite positive that they would be able to find a good fit for me. I don't know why I've never gone to one of these places before. They do all the work for you. It's fabulous. There's also something empowering about putting on a suit. I felt important and intelligent...maybe that's shallow and pathetic ,but it's the truth. I can better understand why the "power tie" is so crucial to the male wardrobe.

I think I've finally gotten some mental and emotional closure with the boy situation too. We talked yesterday, and I realized that conversing with him always manages to disrupt my inner peace. Why it took me 5 months to figure that out I'm not so sure. Better than 5 years I guess. I haven't exactly been able to vocalize this conclusion to him, so I'm taking the more passive no call back approach....I shall keep you posted on how this "weaning off" process goes.

Ok, my tutoring gig calls, and plus I don't really have anything else inspiring to say.

Aimless

2007-02-19T23:33:00.000-05:00

Julie so kindly let me grace her with my presence all day long. We spent many a brainless hour watching TV, then I took a nap and then ate a delicious meal cooked by Collin...such a rough life I have.

So I think it's about time to find myself some temp work. I am going a little stir crazy and for whatever reason can't seem to find any motivation to look for a job. At first I was gung-ho about going in the human resources direction, and the more I looked at jobs the less excited I got. I don't know what my deal is. Plenty of people out there enjoy their jobs...I just have doubts that I will ever be among that group.

There's this boy that I've had a very love-hate relationship with for about the past 6 mths. It's annoying to have had so many emotions about a person for that length of time only to realize he's not who you wanted him to be in your head. It took him so long just to make a little effort, and now that he is I just don' t care anymore....and feel annoyed for all that time I spent caring way too much.

So that's that. I just don't care...about the job, about the boy, about much of anything right now. Then why do I feel like such a loser for not having a "real" job? I'm realizing how much New Yorkers are defined by their work. Everyone seems to have such distinguished titles: Project Manger, Investment Banker, Graphic Designer, Creative Director. I hate having to explain to people that I'm in a "transitional" period right now. My counselor told me that we are all broken people and we need to be able to look at those messy parts of ourselves and just accept them as reality. So, I'm trying to get there. To accept where I'm at: that I haven't had a job in a month, that I'm not really actively looking, that I'm unsure of what I want to do, that I sometimes feel like a loser because of it, and that deep down I really do care what other people think...even stupid boys.

Job Searching and Such

2007-02-13T21:32:00.000-05:00

I sometimes feel that I should be much better at job searching after so many goes at it. But for some reason cover letters never get any easier to write, and I still laugh every time I look at my resume like I'm trying to be this super sophisticated person that I'm not....whatever. In my opinion there is entirely too much hype surrounding the job search. Listen people, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. This is coming from someone who has scoured hundreds of job postings from social work to sales. There are really only about 5 things you need to master in life:

Microsoft Word
Multi-tasking
Writing
Speaking
and occasionally...the "ability to work in a fast-paced environment"

Those things pretty much summarize every "requirements" category I have read. So, don't sweat it. Basically, if you're good at life and can whip up a word document you're good to go. Sorry to those of you who have paid big money for fancy career seminars. Next time, consult my blog first.

Ok, I'm about to be kicked out of this coffee shop. My supposed Valentine's date for tomorrow has not yet called to confirm, so I'm getting a little nervous.....I mean, I'm Valentine-worthy, right?

This Time Around

2007-01-21T09:14:00.000-05:00

Well, I have somehow managed to find myself unemployed in New York City for the 3rd time since moving here. Everything seemed to work itself out the first two times, so I'm trying not to sweat this one, abrupt as it came.

So what happened was that I've been working at a boys' shelter in Brooklyn for the past 4 months, and they pretty much yanked me and transferred me to their Bronx location against my will. I tried going into it with an open mind, but after 5 days of having to leave my apartment at 4am for the 2 hour commute the quick split was inevitable. So that leaves me here in my apartment at 11:49 on a Monday afternoon typing away in my long-neglected but soon-to-be-revived blog. Still trying to figure out how I feel about the way things worked out. A little bitter that I was basically forced to quit due to circumstances I had no control over, a lot relieved that I don't have to go back to work there again, a little excited by the adventure of such unexpected change and of course a little nervous about financial sustenance in the meantime. Underlying all there exists a peace from God that has been quite foreign to me over the past 5 months, and I am grateful for its return.

My gameplan for this week is to take it easy and to enjoy myself and the city. To regroup and address all of the things in my life that have been neglected since September: mail, bills, phone calls, e-mails, books, thank you notes, friendships...you get the idea. A couple months ago I started making a list of some things that I want to but still haven't gotten around to doing since moving here. Kari and I already did one of them this morning which was eat at the local Puerto Rican joint next door to us.....that's right....next door to us....and we've lived here 2 and a half years...and just now ate there today. Anyways, Casa Adela turned out to be quite scrumptious and quite cheap...better late than never I guess. Later on today I plan on heading down to the National Museum of the American Indian (also on the list). After visiting a reservation one summer in college and taking American Indian History the following semester I've had a soft spot for our native peoples.

So my theory in all of this is that if I take a week or so to do what I enjoy then some job ideas and opportunities are bound to flow out of that. And if not, well there's always Starbucks. Like I said, I'm trying not to sweat it. I need to take some time and really thank all the people in my life that are so good to me, and especially those who have listened to my whining and stuck with me through these past few depressive months. I swear it's a wonder that I still have friends.

Romans 8:13-27

2006-12-15T18:03:00.000-05:00

"For if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hpes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with goans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will."

Memo to all the Single Folk

2006-08-14T02:51:00.000-04:00

I really just wrote this for my own sanity (and not for public viewing), but then I figured what the hell. So, for what it's worth...

MEMO TO ALL DUDES: Regardless of whatever you have built up in your head about me (and females in general), if you were to ask me on a date I would not shortly thereafter be expecting a princess cut diamond ring and your hand in marriage. In fact, just to prove my point, it doesn’t even have to be a date. What I (and I speak for many other females) am asking for is a conversation. We can freaking sit next to the drunk guy on my front steps for half an hour for all I care. So before you get ahead of yourself thinking I’m already naming our unborn children, I will spare you the guessing game. I’m not asking for much here: maybe just how many siblings you have or how work is going or what you like to do when you’re not working. When you don’t ask us out due to your pre-conceived notions of what a “date” means to us, you, in fact are guilty of the exact same thing of which you accuse. There is definitely a verse somewhere in the Bible about that.

MEMO TO ALL DUDETTES: If you think you may be interested in a guy (which may happen on numerous occasions) please be real with yourself about the source and intensity of the attraction. Chances are you know very little about him….that he’s cute, he’s from such and such city, works for such and such company and seems to have some kind of sense of humor judging from the sarcastic comment he muttered under his breath the other day. Sounds simple enough, but the problem is that us girls love to play pretend in our heads….it’s like some crazy internal wiring we have going on that makes us really good at relationships but can also get us into a whole lot of trouble. So even though you want to assume he’d be a great father one day because he talked to the little boy in the elevator….don’t go there. Just don’t. I know it’s hard because it’s against our very nature, but guys can sniff this out from a mile away and they freak out and refuse to initiate any sort of hang-out or activity that could possibly be labeled as a “date”. My advice: be cool….even when your insides are screaming otherwise….be cool. Then guys won’t feel the pressure that tends to lead to their general withdraw from the female population.

So now that we have hopefully cleared the air of misconceptions and false expectations, my hope is that the ancient art form of dating (or maybe we should just develop a new word for it) will begin to make its comeback.

Next-Step Search: Day 1

2006-05-15T23:37:00.000-04:00

Yesterday as I was running I was doing some thinking (because I try to focus on everything besides the actual fact that I'm running) and came up with this novel idea that I should blog my job-searching journey....mostly to hold myself accountable to actually making progress on a daily basis. Plus, I think it will be kind of fun. I'm calling it my next-step search because it sounds a little more all-encompassing, like the future's wide open....which it is.

First I must step back and explain why, from a spiritual perspective, this is a ripe time for me to be in the market for change, especially career related. I feel like my journal entry from May 5th articulates it best:
"So I've come to this conclusion that life is always going to be in some sort of state of "overwhelming"--because it's life...and there's always stuff going on and there will always be a million areas trying to be in perfect balance with each other but never quite making it. Just when you're physical health is coming together, your financial situation is falling apart. And just when you've mastered the art of budgeting, some relationship needs reconciling. You see what I mean? For as long as we live there will always be loose ends that have been sewn up, others that need to be tied and some right on the verge of unraveling.

This is precisely why the old Jennifer was in a constant state of feeling overwhelmed, stressed out and worried. Because I saw the reality but just couldn't accept it...

I have now progressed into the very liberating phase of acceptance....of myself and the state of the world. Perfection exists only in the one who defined it in the first place. So if something is to be redeemed to the state it was created for, that will only be through Him and no amount of my "trying", however relentless that may be."

So basically instead of proving myself (which is exhausting and a set-up for failure), I simply have to be myself...and trust that that's enough. Amazing what a little adjustment of perspective can do.

Ok, so back to the task at hand. Day 1 was awesome. I could really get used to this unemployment gig. Here's the rundown:

- Woke up early and got a personal tour of the New York Stock Exchange by my friend that works there. I got to go on the trading floor and meet some folks who apparently are "kind of a big deal" in the financial world. It was awesome.

- Got home and made myself a scrumptious brunch of scrambled eggs, salad, English muffin, strawberries, coffee and OJ....wow, that's a lot of food when you see it written down.

- read Psalm 108 and thanked God for lots of things....namely that his "love reaches to the heavens" even on my worst days.

- e-mailed about 5 job contacts and managed to set up 2 informational interviews for the week

- worked on the ole' May budget--realized I should probably not buy anything for the rest of the month.

- filled in on my friend's volleyball team

- money spent: $2.19 (for one red pepper....that's ridiculous)
- epiphanies: I think I would like to work for myself at some point in life.
I am good at phone conversation.
I am selfish.
My fundraising adeptness has surprised me (see AIDS Walk webpage)
The computer skills could use some work.

Change

2006-04-30T16:04:00.000-04:00

So I quit my job and have no backup plan. I gotta' tell you it may be one of the best things that's ever happened to me. Ok, so when I say I have no backup plan, what I really mean is that I have no other job lined up. However, I've saved up a little money and the plan is to take a second and figure out what exactly it is that I'm called to. I don't feel like work and personal life should have to be so separate. They should be overflows of each other. So I want to find a job that feels like that...like something I was created to do.

My last day is May 12th which means I've encountered a major case of "senioritis" at work. I seriously can't focus for more than 10 minute increments...because freedom is right around the corner. I say that now, and then I'm sure in a couple months I'll be posting a whiny blog about how I'm broke and jobless. Such is life...

The craziest thing about all of this is not so much the decision itself, but the internal transformation I've undergone because of it. I've just felt trapped for a long time, like I was going to be stuck in this job forever and stuck in a rut of complacency. So basically something had to change. Some kind of decision had to be made. And it was. And I feel good about it. And in the process of it all I've learned that I really can be a lot of things I think I'm not--spontaneous, unconventional, completely trusting (of God) and most of all confident. For someone who's always done the safe and responsible thing her whole life because she's deathly afraid of failure, a giant leap of faith is what needed to happen. And for someone who is accustomed to feeling anxious and worried on a daily basis, to experience such peace and surety can only be evidence of the supernatural at work.

So that's that. I may fail miserably and find myself not being able to afford rent in a few months. And that's ok. In fact, it may even be good for me. To know that failure doesn't have the same power over me that it had before. I'm excited to see where this story goes.....and equally joyful in the sharing of it...

It's the Little Things...

2006-03-03T00:26:00.000-05:00

Some Fun and Random Happenings as of Late:

1. I was riding on the bus w/ my client in the Bronx one day and the bus driver led us all in a chorus of "The Wheels on the Bus go 'Round and 'Round" in efforts to get this little girl to stop crying. Never have I seen so many hardcore black-wearing Bronxonians (I just made that word up) smile at once. Mad props to you, Mr. Bus Driver Man!!

2. So we had this whole package of brown sugar that was completely hardened. Naturally, as I always do in such predicaments, I googled my solution and learned that putting a piece of foil and damp paper towel on top of the clumps will soften them right up. So I did, and I waited...day one..still solid as a rock....day two same deal....day three I go to throw out the sugar in despair but alas it has softened and is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. Ok, so that might be a slight exageration but seriously I have been incorporating brown sugar into every meal since that glorious day....simply because I can. Sure I could have just given up, thrown it out and bought a new package. But the effort makes it taste all the better. I thought of all these great life analogies that are reflected in the brown sugar incident, but I shall spare you the sentimental details for now.

3. My friend Sarah from A&M just moved across the street from me (literally). She would e-mail and call last year to ask questions as she deliberated the move here. And, as fate would have it, a year later we're neighbors in the big apple.

4. I dated (and I use that term lightly) a Polish dude that I met on the subway. I know, I know...very New York, and/or very ridiculous depending on how you look at it. Needless to say it didn't work out. No more picking up dates on public transportation.

5. Took the Chinatown bus to Baltimore and reconnected with a long lost high school friend who I hadn't seen in 4 years. We did a little kareoke-ing, a little shopping, a LOT of eating (Maryland crabs....mmm) and I think we talked nonstop for the entire 3 day weekend....loved every minute.

6. Went ice skating (w/ my friend Claire) for the first time since Bonnie Cooper's birthday party in 2nd grade...and I didn't even bust it once...and discovered that Park Slope, Brooklyn is freakin' awesome.

7. Had a "throw back" Saturday night watching Doogie Howser (yeah, that's right) season 1 w/ Claire and her roomie. I'm not sure what's more ridiculous--the fact that Claire actually ordered it on Netflix or the fact that we spent a Saturday night watching it.

8. I got the privelege of boogeying down with some south Bronx locals at our client Mardi Gras party. One of the clients (who happens to be a black woman) came up and asked me, "Where'd you get yo' rhythm?" Now she may just think that any white girl who can snap her fingers to a beat qualifies as having rhythm, but you better believe I'll be holdin' on to that compliment 'til I go dancin' into my grave.

9. This month is currently deemed "operation bridesmaid" as I crack down on the healthy eating and prepare to strut my stuff down the aisle at Michelle's wedding next month (side note: I'll be in Dallas Apr.7-9ish for those of you in the vicinity)

10. We had a dog for 2 weeks. His name is Muffinski (don't ask), and he quickly became the heartthrob of Avenue C. We were taking care of him for a friend, and I must say dogs require a lot of attention and early mornings. Basically, I had to come to grips w/ how self-centered I really am. Let's just say I probably don't need to be raising children anytime soon.

11. Jules and I had a good laugh one Friday night when we met some friends at Duvet: the most swanky mcswankster, "Sex and the City"-esque, $12 drink-servin' bar/lounge whatever. Jellyfish aquariums, beds that require reservations , a bar that changes colors and spikey-haired black shirt wearin' bar tenders....boy did I feel right at home.
To counter that, I put all my rhythm to good use dancin' to the hits of the 80's at Culture Club last weekend.

In other random news, I don't care what the thermometer says, today was definitely the coldest and windiest day of the year...and quite possibly of my life. Which is why I'm makin' it a Blockbuster and laundry night on this lovely Friday evening.

I think I'm ready for a new job, maybe something completely different, maybe something corporate. I don't really know. I do know that work's really been taking more of an emotional toll than usual lately. Just in the past couple weeks there's been a miscarriage, foster kid run away from home, suicide attempt, 2 hospitalizatoins, eviction notice, numerous occasions of getting hung up on by feisty and unprofessional welfare workers, pregnant teenager, homeless mother of 4 and the usual doses of anxiety, mental retardation and depression. It's true I've been talking about the job switch for a million years now, but really I'm just a big wuss. I hate resumes and searching and having to "market" myself. The whole game of it makes me want to vomit. Why can't I just be recruited or something, like in sports?

The thing with my job is that you feel as though you've just sprinted a marathon and only moved a foot. And right when you want to throw in the towel you get a tiny grain of hope (this can be related back to the "brown sugar philosphy"), grab the reins, and the whole cycle repeats itself. I don't like to give up, especially not on people. I guess it's a good problem to have but sometimes blurs the understanding of when it's time to move on. So , having put all of that on the table, call me if you're hiring...or if you've received some prophetic message regarding my next career move.

Walking

2006-01-16T01:44:00.000-05:00

I just made the 30 min. walk home from my friend Leslie's apartment at 1:00 in the morning. I know that sounds highly unsafe, but seriously I never feel threatened walking around Manhattan at any given hour....now Brooklyn is a whole other story (Julie can vouge for that;). After being in Texas for 2 weeks, walking is one of the many things I missed about New York. I could eat an entire pie and feel like I walked off every calorie by the time I get home. All I'm saying is who needs South Beach and Atkins when you've got the walker-friendly city?

Long weekends are the greatest (thank you Dr. King). A whole extra day to do all those things you wished you would have gotten around to doing as you drag yourself into the office on any given Monday morning. And when the weekend's over, there's still the shortened work week to look forward to.

One of my co-workers came with me to church tonight. And, no, I did not invite her. She approached me. And, not only that, but she wants to come again next week. At some point along the way I came to understand that the power of conversion does not lie in my hands. It's just that sometimes I'm priveleged enough to find myslef in a place where I am able to witness the process unfold. And then sometimes I even get to play a supporting role in the whole experience. Do I think church will cast some special power upon this girl? No, but I think that God will....and I feel like church is a pretty reliable catylist for that whole process. I'm ashamed to admit that all of this sovereignty business often doesn't make me feel any less insecure about saying or doing something that will send this girl running in the opposite direction when she is so close to crossing that line.

The Hand of Providence

2005-12-01T00:21:00.000-05:00

I was looking though my old computer files the other day and ran across this excerpt from the first and only entry of a computer journal I attempted to start last year. It made me joyful to look back and see God's hand at work in the uncertain times when you're craving change but aren't quite sure what that looks like. Just wanted to share with you...

6.16.04
"...I suddenly inherited this fresh passion for finding a job in New York, maybe because it's looking more and more like a real possibility. Maybe because I realize a little more everyday that I've got to get out of College Station. Maybe a little of everything tugging me in that general direction. I've decided that I must see what my faith looks like outside of the South, away from my daily "fellowship" and lack of real challenges to the beliefs I hold so dear. I am ready to live...to really live...and to probably suffer in the process."

Rest, continued..

2005-10-16T02:09:00.000-04:00

Today was so good.
I got up and went to work this morning to get some stuff out of the way. Now I know you're thinking, "What can be good about working on a Saturday?" Well, not much but it was quiet and free of interruptions. After that I spent an hour talking to a friend of mine who just started teaching in Jordan (yes, the country). We talked about a lot of spiritual doubts and struggles we share. It's always nice to know someone's going through the same things as you.
The weather was beautiful--a perfect fall day to bring an end to a week of continuous rain.
Then I came home and chilled with Kari as we watched our beloved Astros get one step closer to the World Series.
Then I went to the Gotham Comedy Club with this girl from my Bible study named Elizabeth. Afterwards we went to her apartment and sat and talked for a few hours. That's something I've missed here--girl bonding, community building. It was good to remember what that's like.
Then I walked home (in the still-perfect fall weather) just feeling this sense of peace and belonging..a very rare occasion indeed.
So that was my good day. And it wasn't really the weather, baseball or good comedy but rather the company I had that made it so good.
Last week my counselor (yes, I have been going to counseling and no I'm not psychotic) and I talked about my compulsive tendencies and what things seem to distract me from my obssesive "tasking around" (as Kari likes to call it). I told him that when I'm with people, time and to-do lists and everything else seem to fade into the background. I'm just enjoying the moment, the conversation, the feeling of connecting with another person.
I think that's the secret to rest--finding that thing. That thing that makes the "urgent" things seem not so important anymore. That makes you free to be you and gives you that feeling of "this is how the world should be."

Rest

2005-09-21T23:19:00.000-04:00

Ridiculous. I haven't written in over 2 months, and writing just so happens to be one of my very favorite things to do. Why are we like that? Or maybe it's just me. New York has brought out the "taskmaster" Jennifer much more than I ever wanted to see. I mean seriously, I'm always doing all these things that I don't really want to do but feel like I "need" to. Somehow I manage to turn normal activities into stressful events. Let's take reading for example. I love to read books, any and all kinds. For me it's like an escape to another world. I read on the subway, on lunch break, at the park and become a part of the story, practically oblivious to the world around me. You'd think I'd do everything possible to hold onto any morsel of oblivion in such a hectic city. Instead I convince myself of the "need" to be up to speed with current events, politics, educational tidbits and what have you so I end up (begrudgingly) reading Newsweek, or a packet from some past training I went to or (and this is no lie) one time I actually read the manual for my laptop on the train ride to work. Who does that? What is this obsession with filling every waking minute of my day with something constructive and productive?

My mind has been wrestling a lot with the issue of resting...why it's needed, recognizing that I don't do it enough and desparately trying to figure out how to change that. I think it's just going to take some practice and a little trial and error. This week is defintely a good time to start with my roomate being out of town. Probably the most difficult challenge for me is finding a space--one that's safe and free of noise, the fear of interruption and time constraints. Meeting those criteria in Manhattan can often be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Thankfully God is not inhibited by our physical or cultural circumstances--though I often don't feel like I see that power played out as much as I'd like.

There's a Catholic church on 3rd st. that 's open until 8:30, and sometimes I stop in on my way home from work to sit, breathe and remember the bigger picture. No doubt I treasure those moments. The problem is that the times I feel a huge cry coming on or that my sanity is hanging by a thread may not necessarily fall within the hours of 8am to 8:30pm and most likely I will not be happening to walk by an open church at those crucial moments. So, what do you do with that? Well, in my case I've trained myself to hold back the tears, turn off the switch or retreat to stern silent mode [because I know that if anything comes out of my mouth it will not be nice]. I understand now how people become jaded and why New Yorkers carry the stigma of being hard. I'm not saying it's healthy, just that it makes sense.

Right now I'm resting. I'm in the apartment by myself. Avenue C is relatively quiet, and I'm doing something I love (writing) that doesn't feel like a chore. We all need moments like these....and not just once every two months. Often, depending on our circumstances, we must fight for that time and place of rest. Though still trying to overcome that battle, Ifeel blessed in even knowing it's something worth fighting for. As I write this verse keeps running through my head:
"But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent's cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ." (2 Cor. 11:3)
(Some outsiders had come to the church of Corinth preaching a very different Jesus than when Paul had taught, so naturally he was concerned):
"For if someone comes to you and preaches a Jesus other than the Jesus we preached, or if you receive a different spirit from the one you received, or a different gospel from the one you accepted, you put up with it easily enough". (v.5)

Another argument for rest would be that we need time to remember the sacred because, let's face it, from the second I walk out my door in the morning I can't look to very many situations or conversations that point to the real Jesus and His gospel. Unfortunately, on this side of eternity, we will never be completely removed from the influences of this world. Even Jesus, when praying for his disciples, said, "I do not ask that you tke them out of the world, but to keep them from the evil one" (Jn. 17:15). When I don't seek rest I find my mind being led astray just like Paul talks about. I "put up with easily enough" the gospel of spiritual relativity, of political correctness, of sexual freedom and whatever else is thrown in my face day in and day out.

Ok....I feel like I've just written a long-winded devotional or something. The point is rest = good. Seek it out. Fight for it. Lock yourself in the bathroom. Whatever it takes to remember the purity of devotion to Christ.

Imperfect Resolution

2005-07-12T23:38:00.000-04:00

First of all a word of apology to all my faithful readers. I realize that my last post was anything but uplifting, and I'm sorry for causing any unecessary concern. Just know that since that time, I feel as though my life has done a 180 (stemming primarily from a long talk w/ my boss, the arrival of warm weather and learning to let go of perfectionism) and for the first time I am (should I dare say it?) beginning to feel more at home in New York....

Today was a day of much reflection. You know when one semi-emotional situation triggers all these other unrelated emotions that need to be dealt with? Well, maybe you don't but that's kind of how today was. So the semi-emotional situation happens to be a date that I had last night. I hesitate to use the word "emotional". The date, in fact, was very good but nonetheless had me doing a great deal of thinking about things today--things I so wish to divulge here but are best left for a safer space than the world wide web.

In the midst of my reflective mode I happened to be reading the last couple chapters of The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning, which (as of today) has been deemed one of my favorite books. In short, it is the story of God's radical grace:

Chapter 10- "The Victorious Limp"
When the prodigal son limped home from his lengthy binge of waste and wandering, boozing and womanizing, his motives were mixed at best. He said to himself, 'How many of my father's paid servants have more food than they want, and here am I dying of hunger! I will leave this place and go to my father' (Lk. 15:17-18). The ragamuffin stomach was not churning with compunction because he had broken his father's heart. He stumbled home simply to survive. Disenchanted with life, the wastrel weaved his way home, not from a burning desire to see his father, but just to stay alive....'While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly' (Lk. 15:20)...What a word of encouragement, consolation and comfort! We don't have to sift our hearts and analyze our intentions before returning home. Abba just wants us to show up. We don't have to tarry at the tavern until purity of heart arrives. We don't have to be shredded with sorrow or crushed with contrition. We don't have to be perfect or even very good before God will accept us. We don't have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation. Even if we still nurse a secret nostalgia for the far country, Abba falls on our neck and kisses us.

Ok, so basically my past 10 months in New York have forced me to re-evaluate my faith on every level imaginable. Is that really God or just the god who resides in Texas? Christians can be Democrats? How do I explain to people why sex is only intended for marriage? My religion says I am supposed to label homosexuality as sin, but why do I feel like I'm trying to convince myself of that as I try to explain my "belief" to a fellow co-worker who has just revealed she is gay? Why do I believe the Bible? How do I convince people that Jesus was the real deal? How do I know that for myself? ... And so on and so forth, to the point where I wonder if I'm sure of anything anymore. I thought that once I went through my phase, experienced all the necessary epiphanies, and had answers to all my questions then I could face God again because I would actually know who He is--for real this time. Instead of drawing me closer I have allowed my doubt to distance me. What a refreshment it was to hear that I don't need resolution to all these theological debates going on in my head before I can approach the Father again. Manning points out that "[He] expects more failure from us than we do from ourselves".....and, as far as I'm concerned, never has the prospect of failure been such sweet consoloation to my soul.

Hard Times

2005-05-30T14:36:00.000-04:00

I have been going through a really hard time lately, pretty much with life in general. Honestly, I've been in this phase for quite some time but only recently admitted it to myself or anyone else. I have literally come to the end of myself. But isn't that where God wants us to be? you may ask. Doesn't He want us to reach a place where we finally understand that nothing nothing nothing good that we do is from ourselves? Absolutely. But no one ever warned how depressing and lonely and scary that place is--because ultimately all control is lost.

I cannot force my clients at work to like me or think I'm a competent case worker. And in the same way I cannot make myself love them despite their pre-conceived notions of me.
I cannot make people in this city who I want them to be--loving, considerate, warm, hospitable.
I cannot get my roomates to care about decorating our apartment so that maybe it will feel less like a dorm room and a tiny bit more like a place I can feel at home.
I cannot make the closet in my room magically have more space to fit all of my clothes.
I cannot rid the subway stations of the strong stench of urine.
I cannot make people want to help me carry a heavy suitcase up the stairs or open doors for me.
I cannot make a beautiful countryside scene suddenly appear outside my bedroom window.
I cannot make myself love what I see in the mirror everyday or believe that one day someone else will.
I cannot memorize verses or read the Bible or really believe the promises of God on a consistent basis.
I cannot stop longing for the physical presence of my family and friends in Texas.
I cannot rid myself of the tension in my upper back that seems to be a permanent fixture of the Manhattan lifestyle.
I cannot believe that God would really have some great purporse for me in a city where everyday I am reminded that I don't quite fit, that I am an outsider, a city who's values conflict with every single one of mine on the deepest level, a city who causes me to be so preoccupied with overcoming my own struggles that I have no energy or heart left to give of myself to others.

That is the place I have reached. Before it was a place of "I'll just try harder." Now it is a place of "I can't"--a place where the life that Jesus Christ lived takes on so much more meaning.
A few weeks ago my pastor talked about the following verses from Hebrews 13:

" 12 And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood. 13Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore. 14For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come. 15Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of prase--the fruit of lips that confess his name. 16 And do not forget to do good and to share with others , for with such sacrifices God is pleased."

To summarize his teaching on this passage: Verses 15 and 16 command us to love a city that will never thank us or love us back. But where in the world do we get this kind of power? Only when our hearts are changed through an encounter with Jesus Christ. We reach a point where God says, "Do this" and we say "I can't." And God says, "I know, but there's one who already did it in your place." Jesus loved Jerusalem deeply--a city that eventually crucified Him (v. 12)

I've reached a point where "trying harder" just isn't cutting it anymore. Because the things that need to be changed in myself and in others require more than just human will or effort or self-discipline or positive thinking. They require the intercession of a supernatural power. And so I guess it takes coming to the end of ourselves to really understand why Jesus had to live and die the way He did. For every struggle I encounter, the Son of God struggled one hundred fold. He died for people who never understood Him. He loved the very same soldiers who nailed Him to the cross and cast lots for His clothing and mocked Him for claiming he was a king. Will I ever fully understand the power of Jesus' life? Most assuredly not. I do know that any goodness in my own life can only be credited to such a life as His.

"I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me..." (Galatians 2:20)

Book Report

2005-04-22T00:35:00.000-04:00

I finished reading J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye today, and though I still haven't quite processed the book's deeper meaning, it was most definitely an entertaining read. In fact, I'm just gonna' have to share some favorite quotes with you:

"She had some Navy officer with her that looked like he had a poker up his ass...then she introduced me to the Navy guy. His name was commander Blop or something. He was one of those guys that think they're being a pansy if they don't break around forty of your fingers when they shake hands with you. God I hate that stuff."
(After laughing hysterically at this part, all I could think about were the guys in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M University. Don't get me wrong, I had a ton of friends in the Corps and respect the tradition, but let's be honest...some were way too intense for their own good.)

"The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where is was. Nobody'd move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south...Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone."
(I was just imagining all the moments/people in my life I would like to put in a glass case and be able to go back to at any given time.)

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score...Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them--if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry."
( I especially like that last part about poetry...all of these beautiful cyclical relationships that are so profound without saying a word. Sometimes labels ruin things--they make things like history and poetry seem too intentional, which I think was Holden's struggle with school throughout the whole book.)

Ok, those are pretty much all the profound thoughts I have to offer...it's way past this literary scholar's bedtime. More keen insight headed your way in the near future...
on deck: Fat Girl by Judith Moore.

Gay Sex 101

2005-04-19T22:49:00.000-04:00

So today I received a certificate for completing a 6 hour training entitled "Crystal Methamphetamine, Barebacking and Men Who Have Sex With Men." I think I'll frame it and put it by my bedside. Gosh, won't my parents be proud?

Ok, the story is that I signed up for the training under the impression I would be learning a lot about crystal meth with a side note about it's more recent impact on the gay community. I'm making efforts to be a little more savvy on substance abuse issues seeing as I've sent about 3 clients off to rehab in the past 2 weeks. Needless to say I ended up learning more than I ever wanted or needed to know about the sex lives of gay men. I did make a new friend named Alejandro--a gay Domican man with a charming accent...he definitely added some much-needed comic relief to my whole experience.

From a spiritual standpoint I guess you could say that I was violated with what us Christians call "worldliness" on so many levels. There are some issues in which the Christian perspective/practice has a few common threads with its worldly counterpart. For the record, sex (and homosexuality) is not one of those issues. I would go into more detail about some moral dilemas and questions that have been running through my head about this matter, but I'm tired and still recovering from the day's culture shock. As I e-mailed to my dad earlier: "It was one of those New York moments where you just feel assaulted by worldliness wondering how a conservative Christian white girl from Texas can possibly help change such a twisted world view....oh the stories Iwill have to tell my kids one day"

All Pierced Up

2005-04-16T01:54:00.000-04:00

So tonight my friend Debby and I got our noses pierced. I'd been thinking about it for a while, and she was planning on getting hers done this weekend anyways.....so why not go for it at midnight on a Friday? Technically we were 3 hours late since the place closed at 9:00 but the owner and her mom happened to be going into the store the same time we got there, so they let us in for a special "after hours" piercing---surely it was sign from God ;) I'm kind of in the shock phase right now. It just looks really big since I'm not used to having a silver ball in my nostril, but I think it will grow on me. Can't wait to see what the general feedack is. The family is coming to visit in a month....My oh my, what will Grandma have to say about this? I have a feeling that once she gets a load of my new look, a few extra rosaries will be prayed on my behalf. "Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us piercers...."

Thought

2005-04-10T22:43:00.000-04:00

Do you ever have that feeling that you're trying to hold out for something that's just not there? And then you make a stupid comment--like a last desperate attempt to find whatever that thing is you're looking for--but you already know it's not there. And yeah it's disappointing but you'll get over it. It's probably better to see things as they are and not just how you wish they could be. Do you ever have that feeling? Yeah, me too.

Pick-me-Up

2005-03-29T23:32:00.000-05:00

I've been feeling down in the dumps for the past few days. Maybe a combination of PMS, burnout at work, and something else that's too stupid to discuss. Anyways, reading my friend Christian's journal reminded me that I too have a list of things that make me happy. Those who know me well also know that just the act of making a list gives me great pleasure...it truly is an art form. All that to say I managed to dig up last year's list to share with you peoples (all 1 of you, since that's the average number of comments I seem to be getting on my blogs these days). Ok, Ok, without further ado, I present:

Things that Make me Feel Alive
1. being with and laughing with my family (most especially during trips in mom's minivan)
2. having deep conversations (preferably over coffee) about spirituality, society, relationships,..
3. being in Kayron's neighborhood and playing with the kids; hugging her little brother
Michael (side note: Kayron is the girl I mentored during college)
4. playing volleyball
5. listening to live music
6. writing
7. traveling to new places
8. girl-bonding
9. laying outside to look at the stars (and for the record, last year I actually camped out in my
own backyard--tent and everything)
10. playing softball on a perfect spring day (with my dad)
11. riding my bike down Villa Maria Rd. in Bryan, TX right before sunset.
12. bare feet on green grass (preferably doing cartwheels)
13. a day on the boat at Canyon Lake
14. eating coconut ice cream in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, the most beautiful beach in the world
15. laughing hysterically with my best friend Kim

So clearly I could add about 2 million things to this list, but for now 15 will have to do. I'm not too sure how much that did for my mood, but having happy memories to smile about--I wouldn't trade that for the world.

Crotchety

2005-03-20T16:24:00.001-05:00

So I have this client at work who may be the most crotchety old man I have ever met. He reminds me a lot of my grandpa as he neared his final years of life. Phrases like, "I ain't worth a damn" became normal parts of his vocabulary, and the family learned to cope by a roll of the eyes or playing along w/ his game of pity.

All that to say my client is Grandpa times 12 (at least). Nothing's ever going right. According to him he is always "going out the world backwards." Like a good social worker I try to sit down w/ him and listen and create a neat and tidy goal sheet for his life...yeah right. This man served in the military for 15 years and the last thing he wants is another "boss" (his affectionate term for me) telling him what to do. He's constantly complaining about how hungry he is so I sign him up for our free lunch program. Later when I go downstairs to check on him he's declaring the lunch tastes like "dog food." I try to sit with him and make up a service plan:

Do you want to find a psychiatrist?
"No, ain't nothin' wrong with me."
Would you like to join an alcohol support group?
"No!"
Would you like to reconnect with your son?
"No. Well....yes, but only on my own terms. I'm not going all the way to New Jersey to visit him. I'll call him when I want to."
We have to go back to housing court in a couple weeks.
"I ain't goin' to any more court! I'm tired of people shuffling me around. I just want everyone to leave me alone..I don't want any new friends....I just want to be left alone!"

And so the story goes.... He was frustrated, and I was frustrated b/c I just didn't get it. How can someone possibly not want any meaningful relationships in his life? There's got to be more to it. Is he suicidal? I wonder. Maybe he's pushing people away as a cry for help. Being at a complete loss, I went to my supervisor and dumped all of my theories on her. To which she replied, "Well, he's 72. Maybe he's just a crotchety old man." Oh. You're probably right.

Maybe when I'm 72 I'll have a better understanding of crotchety-ness...though I feel as though I've gotten an early glimpse in the past few weeks. I make the hour-long commute to work every morning on a crowded subway. At work I am surrounded by and interacting w/ co-workers and clients for 8 hours a day. I make the journey back on another crowded train and come home to a tiny apartment that I share with two other people. Since I have had a string of visitors for about the past 3 weeks straight, my evenings have been filled with going out to dinner, celebrating St. Patrick's day, coordinating times and schedules w/ other friends who have visitors in town....do you see where I'm going with all of this?

I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I don't want to talk to anyone or see anyone or hear my phone ring or have somewhere to be. I am dying for solitude. For a few precious hours I want to forget that I live in the world's most crowded city and that I share a room the size of a glorified shoebox and that I sleep on the top of a bunkbed and that the only place I can go and be sure that I won't be disturbed or walked in on is the bathroom. That is all I'm asking for.....a place where I can just BE....where I can sing or yell or cry as loud and long as I damn well please and don't have to answer to anyone or anything. All I've gotta' say is that if I don't find this place soon I'm going to bust. There will be some sort of eruption, and I fear for whoever is around to see it. Am I crotchety? You better believe I am.

And as for my client, who can really blame the man? If I'm feeling like this at 23 I can only imagine what 72 must be like. Consider his request to be left alone granted.
I, on the other hand, have somewhere to be in 30 minutes.....

Chill Pill

2005-03-06T01:39:00.000-05:00

Saturdays never seem to be very eventful. I wake up with great intentions of exploring all that NYC has to offer and end up staying in my apartment for most of the day. Today I woke up around 11:00 still feeling the effects of NyQuil. I bummed around for a while and finally took a shower around 1:30. Then I bummed around some more trying to figure out how on earth I could feel tired after 10 hours of sleep.

To wake myself up I headed over to Union Square to do some shopping. Big mistake. Let me tell you how shopping in Manhattan works on any given weekend:
- walk into the store excited b/c you haven't bought new clothes in a while and you have a little extra spending money in your pocket
- pick out a few items that catch your eye
- go to the fitting room only to realize that at least 15 people are waiting in line ahead of you, not to mention the other 15 that you'll have to wait behind should you decide to buy something.
- examine the items in your hand, realizing your time and peace of mind are worth far more than the orange sequined shirt you're holding
-ditch the clothes and leave, remembering why you were so reluctant to leave the apartment in the first place

This is why I have to constantly monitor my anxiety level in this city. Because normal activities (like shopping) that were at one point in time enjoyable are now activities to be avoided like the plague. So I think from now on my weekend outings will be limited to walking, eating out, listening to live music and hanging out at friends' apartments. And if at any time one of these causes me unnecessary stress it will be immediately removed from the list, no questions asked.

Speaking of live music, Alex Andrew, Summer, Kurt and I listened to a rockin' blues band at 55 Bar tonight. There was a big black lady named "Sweet Georgia Brown" singing......needless to say, good times were had by all. We also ate "mexican" food at Caliente which filled me up but didn't quite measure up to the high standards of savory Tex-Mex cuisine (hence the quotes).

I'm falling in and out of consciousness so I think it's time to say goodnight. Gotta' rest up for day one of my new "strategery": mastering a stress-free lifestyle in the world's most hectic city...more details to come.

Validation from Abraham

2005-02-26T12:00:00.000-05:00

This week I have found a great deal of comfort in scripture. Unfortunately this has not been a regular occurrence for me in the past couple of years as I have struggled in a continual love-hate relationship with the Bible. I often wrestle with doubts about how it can be divine yet written by humans, and which translation is the most correct and why we must go through such great pains to interpret exactly what message the authors were meaning to convey and why, after praying for the Holy Spirit to give me understanding, I often come away more confused and frustrated than when I began. This is the battle that I find myself having to lay down on weekly basis.

I have a pile accumulating on my shelf of sermon notes from Sundays past, random devotional clippings and various verses scribbled on pieces of scratch paper. So I've decided to take from the top of the pile at every quiet time and see what inspiration comes from these random notes I at some point thought worthy of saving.

Today I picked up a sheet with various scripture references. Several months ago I was reading my Bible on the subway while coming home from church one Sunday. Before getting off at his stop a nice older gentleman said he had seen me reading and gave me a paper with several verses he had jotted down for me to look up. His name was John, and I thanked him for his thoughtfulness. I skimmed the references and added the paper to my pile once I got home thinking I would read the verses in a few days...or three months later. He had written about 10 different passages down, so I decided to look up each one and read them out loud. Sometimes that gives me a clearer picture of God actually speaking to me. I came to Hebrews 11:6 and read:

"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.."
Feeling comforted, I decide to read further:
(v.8) "By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.
(v.13) All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them at a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country--a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. "

I've struggled this week with a couple realizations: 1) New York has not changed my love for the Lord and His people. If anything that commitment has strengthened, grounding me deeper in my purpose. 2) A very rare minority cling to my same convictions, and thus I feel more isolated than ever.
It's difficult feeling unsupported or misunderstood in something you believe in with your whole heart--constantly having an awareness that you are different, an outsider. And some days I question if it's worth it to have to die to yourself so much and always do the right thing and pray that you will love someone unselfishly when it would be easier to just not associate with them at all. I'm comforted to know that the very pioneers of our faith faced the same dilemma of being "aliens and strangers on earth". But for some reason they thought it was worth it to persevere. Yet nothing in these verses gives good reason for doing so--living in foreign lands, never having a real earthly home, and being able to enjoy their promised rewards only "at a distance." Let's face it, the Christian life makes absolutely no sense. How then did these men and us believers today find not only justification in pressing on, but great joy in doing so?

(v.1) "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

This is the part where I should wrap up this little segment with some profound wisdom that ties all of these loose ends together. But the truth is, I'm still trying to answer my own question. I have a feeling it has something to do with verse 1, about real certainty only being found through faith in Christ, about how "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever" (Heb. 13:8) and how that security somehow drives us to walk this path, "the straight and narrow"(which I find to be a deceptively bland description). And then there's all kinds of other driving forces that come into play like unconditional love and grace, etc., etc. But for now it's enough for me to read this passage and simply know that I'm in good company.

Home Field Advantage

2005-02-17T23:31:00.000-05:00

Funny client story of the week: My favorite client came into the office (surprisingly sober) earlier in the week saying he had lost his keys but thought they may be somewhere in his apartment. When he came back yesterday we asked him if he'd found his keys yet. He said, "Oh yeah I found them in this bag of chicken I had. They must have slipped in there somehow." To which I responded, "I hate it when that happens."

************************************
A couple days ago I was walking to visit a client at his apartment. Selfishly I like going to his place because I get to walk right past Yankee Stadium. "46 Days until Home Opener" the sign reads. And at that moment everything is so very surreal. I have to stop and remind myself that just one year ago I visited New York for the first time and just 6 months ago I was making sandwiches at Blue Baker in College Station, TX and now here I am walking down 161st street in Bronx, NY still wondering how exactly this all came to be.

Probably the most pressing struggle of living here (and believe me there are tons) is defining what exactly "home" is. New York is not my home. In Texas is the house on Burford Place where I spent 18 years of my life and the little league right across the street where I played softball for 7 glorious years and still have my name on a sign for the summer us 10 year olds won district. Texas has my mom, dad, brother, my best friend Kim, my church, elementary school, junior high, high school, college and every friend made along the way...you get the picture.

Yesterday I spotted a South Carolina license plate in the Bronx and asked the woman if she was from there as she was getting out of her car. I told her one of my best friends is from Columbia, and her face lit up because that's her hometown too. Though she's lived in the Bronx 17 years, she was adamant about South Carolina being her real home ("I go back every year"). People at work call her "country" for her accent. I assured her the two of us would spread some Southern lovin' to these parts. Granted she is black and I am white, but I think the two of us parted feeling as though we had just reconnected with old kinfolk.

Most of my clients at work have a very different picture of home, and my job allows me a rare access into their world as I am required to do "home visits" on a regular basis. I have come to identify all the finer details of a typical city-owned housing project: grafitti on the walls with every dirty slang word, gang name or sexual picture imaginable, elevators that smell like urine, doors with missing numbers, blaring rap music coming from nowhere and everywhere in particular, and (on the lighter side) the sweet smells of fried food at most anytime of day. Morning visits are my favorite because I inhale the aroma of bacon, eggs and whatever else happens to be on the menu. Immediately I'm transported back to my grandma's kitchen sitting at the big table w/ the long bench seats catching up with my mom, dad and grandpa....and then I get a little teary because I realize just how far away I really am.

I stand waiting for the elevator doors to open, staring at the graffitti, wondering how people always think to have a black Sharpie with them at just the right time, but mostly how they could have such little respect for themselves, each other, their homes. You would think after volunteering 4 years with inner city youth and working alongside low-income individuals and now being fairly immersed in their lives that I would understand such things. But I don't. And so right then I prayed for understanding--not of the world, but one that goes deeper-- a Godly wisdom that can be acquired through no other means.

Snowy Happy People

2005-01-25T01:06:00.000-05:00

This past weekend was the happiest I've felt in a long time, and I would say most of the bliss was brought on by the 13 inches of snow. I put on my black and pink rain boots and danced around like a giddy 5 year old. I had no idea that when it snows New York suddenly becomes this happy neighborly place to be. Kids are sledding at Central Park, shop owners are whistling as they shovel a path on the sidewalk, even the dogs are excited running around in their cute little winter sweaters. The streets take on an eerie calm with the lack of cars (yes, even my beloved avenue C had some moments of silence this weekend).

It's funny how the Lord works in things. The past couple of weeks have probably been some of the roughest yet with my cousin being out of the country and work being trying and wanting to throw in the towel on this insane city. But then it snowed, almost as if God knew it was time for a fresh start, a new perspective and a couple days to just relax and be a kid again. Saturday night I got stuck waiting at the bus stop for a good 30 min. and ended up making all kinds of new friends. My favorite is Bugsy, a big 40 something year old black man who I'm pretty sure wanted to be my boyfriend, nevermind that he he's been married 29 years (I later find out his wife has a boyfriend which, according to Bugsy, is "no big deal"). So, I had to let him down gently but he was a good sport about it. Sunday there was more playing in the snow to be done, this time at Central Park w/ Alex, Luke, Karen and Diana, my friend from church. I never reached my goal of building a snowman, but now I'll have something to look forward to when the next blizzard hits.

Probably my most favorite thing about NYC so far is my church--Redeemer--which certainly lives up to its name. I love everything about it from the afro-haired drummer who plays in the jazz worship band on Sundays to the free cookies and coffee we get after each service. And not to mention that Pastor Tim Keller may be the one of the wisest scholars of the Word I have ever come across. What he preaches is real and truth and uncomfortable at times...and I respect him for all of those things and more. This is a church that I believe in , and I believe God is using it to breathe new life into a dying city. www.redeemer.com

A Week in the Life

2005-01-09T17:53:00.000-05:00

I always seem to get in this weird "funk" on Sundays. I think it's because the weekend's freedom will soon be abruptly cut short by the emergence of Monday. Growing up my mom was always moodier on Sunday nights, and now I am able to sympathize. She's assured me that I'm normal and that even after thirty something years in the working world, the Sunday evening blahs never go away. How reassuring. Speaking of work, a lot of people ask what a typical day is like, and then I have to explain there's really no such thing as "typical" in my line of work. So, I've compiled a few snippets of last week's "highlights":

Wednesday--gay client drops by the office to inform us that his ex-lover sold drugs in his name and now people have been coming to his apartment threatening his life if he doesn't pay the money; I go w/ him to the housing office and wait for 2 hours while he gets approval to move into a hotel room

Thursday--I visit the apartment of a client I had not previously met. I take the right bus the wrong way and thus arrive 30 min. behind schedule. She explains she got HIV because some girl bit her at the school she used to work at. Her mother was Puerto Rican and her father Italian she tells me. Somehow they managed to be married 50 yrs though she claims her mother neither understood nor spoke English or Italian. Funny how that works. Her 18 yr. old daughter just had a baby 3 mths ago. The client drops me off at her mother's (where daughter and baby currently live). There must be at least 7 people living in this cramped apartment. I speak with the daughter. She tells me being a parent is going well so far and no she is not interested in parenting classes. Yes, she would like to finish high school but wants to open her own public assistance case first. She is worried about the apartment's crowded conditions. Her mom kicked her out, she said (mom had told me otherwise). I tell her I'd like to help out in any way I can. I give her my number and suggest we look for schools w/ night classes. I also speak w/ the older sister. She is currently taking her mom to court for running up charges on a credit card in her name. She is starting college this month and will be living with her boyfriend.

Friday--I go to meet a client at his doctor's appointment. A couple weeks ago was the first time he'd been back to the doctor in a year. He did not show. The doctor was angry and gave me copies of his latest blood work. I ask the nurse to translate the medical lingo for me. She tells me he tested positive for syphilis and should be treated right away. I'm not sure if the client is aware of his diagnosis. I go back to the office and give him a call. He didn't come because the landlord is there replacing his kitchen cabinets. No, he is unaware he has syphilis (thus making me the bearer of bad news). He will call me back once he reschedules.
Later in the day a client comes in w/ alcohol on his breath (not for the first time) waving a rent bill in my face. He refuses to move into his new apartment until the shower is fixed. I call the landlord who says he'll send a plumber out tomorrow. This particular client likes to sporadically break into the chorus of "Georgia on my Mind." Do I like that song? he wants to know and I tell him yes. He is an old black Vietnam vet, and I have a special fondness for him, maybe because back in the day he was stationed in San Antonio, Texas. Someone had given him one of those "Jesus Saves" tracks, and he tells me he believes everything it says. Then I told him he also must agree w/ the Bible not condoning drunkenness. "Jennifer", he says, "I ain't ever been drunk a day in my life." Interesting. I take him to the conference room and tell him he has a problem w/ alcohol. He's defensive and doesn't want to hear it ("My own mother never even talked to me like that.") I escort him downstairs and watch him go feeling a bit defeated...but still loving him. A client I have never even met then proceeds to chew me out because she's been waiting 30 min. to pick up her social security check. I give her the money and explain I'm the only team member here at the moment. She doesn't want to hear it either and storms out in a huff yelling something about her mother being sick. I can't decide if I feel like crying or laughing.
Mostly I'm just glad it's Friday.

So there you have it--a week in the life. Hope it was everything you dreamed of and more. Sometimes I have to laugh at the drama of it all. But sometimes all I can think is that this is not how the world should be. 18 year old girls should not be mothers before being high school graduates. Children should not be growing up without fathers, and women should not be letting them get away with such deadbeat behavior. People should not be living sick and alone without any family or community to support them. The church should be gathering in the "least of these". And for these things I weep.

And then my parents tell me it's ok to cry and that I am a light though I may not see the fruits of my labor. Dad assures me I am the next Martin Luther, and this is only the beginning of my quiet revolution. Mom tells me that people always ask if she worries about me. She tells them no. She knows I came on faith, and that is enough for her. And all of a sudden the world is right again. I love my family. They make me strong and always remind me of who I am. I believe that every lesson God ever wanted to teach about unconditional love and compromise and laughter and community and identity is verbalized through family. And I'm reminded of the message I'm to take to the world...first stop: Bronx, NY.

I'll be Home for Christmas...

2004-12-28T01:00:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I realize it has almost been a whole month since I've written, and that is just ridiculous. My apologies to all. I flew back to NYC from Houston last night, and to save time and brain cells I'm just going to transpose what I journaled in transit:

I'm waiting at my gate for my flight "home" to NYC after a great day of sleeping late, playing catch w/ my dad and seeing The Polar Express w/ the fam. It's both good and difficult to leave on such a high note and there were definitely some tears shed. It's hard to go back--but not too hard. There is still work to be done, lives to touch and people to pray for. One day, maybe in a few months, a year, or even several years, it will be too hard to go back--and that's when I'll know my work is finished in NYC. But for now it's ok to cry a few tears for the nostalgia of a path I am not to take at this present moment.

I feel like my emotions were at hypersensitive levels this weekend, probably due to my intentional efforts in savoring every moment. Even the Christmas Eve service at Grace made me tear up. I think because Christmas really has a whole new meaning for me this year. I guess being in such a dark spiritually devoid place makes the existence of a "light of the world" that much more dear. It's funny how things are so much more prominent to our eyes when they are side by side with their complete contrast. Like last night, I didn't pay much notice to the full moon when it had already made an appearance in the late afternoon. But hours later I could not help but gaze as it broke through the deep black of the night--a "hole in the sky" as Uncle Jim would describe it.

So what I'm getting at is that I think the Lord functions in the same way. Against the hustle and bustle and routine of the middle class suburban lifestyle the concept of needing a savior becomes a bit blurred. Of course, it's in the literature at local Christian bookstores and in the words of the pastors on Sunday mornings and even on the radio or highway billboards. But then this mysterious phenomenon happens. When you actually go looking for it--this alleged "need for a savior" that everyone is speaking and writing of--it's nowhere to be found, at least in it's purest rawest form. And that is why I think the face of our Savior is so visible in the inner city, among the poorest and most helpless. They understand real need and are thus unafraid to kneel before a God they have never seen nor studied.

A "Rotic" Weekend

2004-12-05T23:50:00.000-05:00

It's Sunday night, and I am feeling completely refreshed by my weekend of no obligations. Friday I bought myself a slice of pizza on the way home from work, did some laundry, ate a considerable amount of cookies and went to bed early...some may call that "lame." I call it perfect. Yesterday I went for a late morning run sporting my Texas A&M sweatshirt (secretly I'm hoping for the day someone whoops or honks the war hymn as I run by). Then I ran some errands and satisfied my craving for Chinese dumplings ( www.dumplingman.com ) which I devoured while watching a riveting episode "Soul Train" (gimmee a break, I only get about 10 channels and 5 aren't in english).

However, my favorite part of the day was discovering Southstreet Seaport. It's a street on the south tip of Manhattan that has a bunch of shops leading to the peer, and right now it's decorated for the holidays and there was Christmas music playing and cobblestone streets--for those few hours Iforgot that I was in New York City. It felt like I was in one of those old Christmas movies strolling through some quaint small town...a very rotic evening indeed. A girl I worked with at camp one summer said that she made up the word "rotic" because it was "romantic" without the "man"...and I find the word incredibly suiting for this particular occasion.

My day ended with a pleasant browse through the shelves at Barnes & Noble. Something about that place always brings a certain calm to my soul. I actually worked there the summer before college and during my Christmas breaks and have always said it was one of my favorite jobs. The distinctive new-book smell consistent with every store always makes it feel like home. Speaking of B&N, I developed a theory in recent months that if someone does not know what he wants to major in/do with his life, etc. he should go to Barnes & Noble and figure out what section he always naturally gravitates toward. For example, the "social sciences" and "African American" sections were always my favorite....long before I ever decided to major in Sociology, or even knew what it was for that matter. I, for one, think the theory is quite brilliant and practically flawless...there's a section for everyone. You're interested in Alchemy? Let me direct you to the New Age section. Women's Health? Science and Nature? Comedy? Folks, all I'm saying is that if you are looking for your place in this world, listening to the old Michael W. Smith song will only get you so far. You need look no further than your neighborhood Barnes & Noble bookstore!!

Today I did a whole lot of nothing: talked to Mom for a few hours, finished my book (Nickel and Dimed...a must read), spent way too much on grocieries, went to church and went to my friend Rachel's to meet her new French bulldog, Alfalfa. It was nice to have girl hangout time...I don't feel like I get enough of it here. There's always more to write, but there's also this thing tomorrow called work which is looming over my head at the moment and beckoning me to please get some sleep. So, I will get up and work my little heart out this week knowing that on Friday I'm headed for Texas sweet Texas!! On that note--g'night y'all.

A Life Worth Living

2004-11-28T02:16:00.000-05:00

A question people always seem to like asking is, "So, how long do you think you'll be in New York?" My answer: until I hear otherwise. I've realized how important it is to approach life as an investment. My parents, out of genuine concern for their daughter, like to remind me that if I discover I really don't like my job to just remember that it doesn't have to be long-term, and I do have the freedom to quit. But what's there to learn when we spend our whole lives running everytime we encounter a situation that's uncomfortable and new and makes us need something bigger than ourselves? I'll admit it's easy to live in this city with a very short-term mentality. For most, New York is their pilgrimage to Mecca....a necessary stop on the path to greatness. But what I know about myself is that I desire to make an impact and be changed in the process, to go throught the thick, thin, good, bad, and ugly of a situation and learn from it all.

My pastor in College Station always used to say that only two things in this world will last forever: the word of God and the souls of men. Such a simple truth challenges me every day of my life. The fact is I am absolutely confident that God's divine leading brought me to this city. And now it is my job to rise to the challenge and invest my every resource into what He has placed before me: co-workers, roomates, clients, church and always my relationship with Him.

Maybe our relentless questioning of the Lord's will--where we are to be and what we are to do--is really a selfish plea. Maybe we just get scared that we'll actually have to face the challenges of the present before God can allow us to move on. Maybe we will have to love people who are annoying or hurtful or completely misunderstand us--love them for everything that we aren't. Maybe we'll be forced to admit our own weakness, our own nauseating sin. And after that maybe we'll understand the beauty of relationship and learn to trust people more because really we're not that much different. And maybe at the peak of our humility we will no longer be questioning the Lord's will....we'll realize we're living it. And perhaps then He will see us fit for the higher places.

"Now it is required that those who have been given a trust prove faithful." - 1 Cor. 4:2

"The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights." - Habakkuk 3:19

Rainy Day Ramblings

2004-11-20T01:54:00.000-05:00

Today I did two very socially responsible things (both involving my new checking account): 1) I ordered checks made on recycled paper and a portion of my money goes to some kind of wildlife fund 2) I signed up for a program where I earn points with my debit card and they'll donate money to my school of choice....so, of course I had to represent for Bryan, Texas and support Jane Long Middle school. And, being the high-roller social worker that I am, I'm sure to accrue enough points to award them a new spiral notebook....and maybe even a couple glue sticks (only if the Christmas bonus comes through). But hey, it's the thought that counts right?

So, enough about me saving the world. I've discovered this blog thing is hard to keep up with. It's a lot of pressure to come up with creative material on a daily, or even weekly basis. However, my dear friend Julie Whitaker rises to the challenge with mad skill and never ceases to add a good dose of humor, insight and creativity to my week. Experience the excitement at www.julesdwit.com And, speaking of the lovely Julie, she's coming to see me in NYC next week!!! As you can see, I can barely contain myself. So Jules (since I know you're a computer nerd and will read this within 5 minutes of it being posted) get those walkin' shoes ready!

Living here has made me realize things about myself that I would have never expected. As it turns out, I am both uptight and judgmental....who knew? Once upon a time I thought I was a pretty laid back individual--until I moved in with my cousin Kari. I am convinced that nothing phases her, from stolen wallets to messy rooms to running late to high prices, the girl is invincible. Next to her I am an uptight anal retentive neat freak....and I have to admit it's very humbling being forced to see myself in such a light. So, thank you Kari for teaching me what it really means to roll with the punches. Secondly, I really had myself convinced that I was open-minded until I started my job. Sometimes I want to scream at people and tell them how illogical and ignorant and selfish they're being. And then I catch myself and realize that, in having those thoughts, something in me really thinks I'm better...that I've made better decisions, or used my time more wisely or whatever the case may be. No matter how hard I try to justify my reactions the fact remains that I am an arrogant individual--not exactly something I want to shout from the rooftop.

I'll never forget a verse I came across in a Bible study by Dwight Edwards a few years back:
"In whatever you judge another you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things." (Romans 2:1) The point Dwight makes is that "from God's viewpoint, whenever we judge a sin in someone else's life, there's sure to be a similar kind of sin in ours if we look hard enough." The fact is, we must reach a place where we are able to learn something from every single person that crosses our path.....the drug users, the uneducated and all the social misfits society has to offer. As the verse alludes to, we may very well see reflections of ourselves in these individuals. And, as irony would have it, I am humbled in my own arrogance.

On Relevance

2004-11-06T22:37:00.000-05:00

Today I had a cry...not a fake cry or a few tears, but a real cry. It was what I like to call an "I hate New York" day. I swear, sometimes I think I'm living in a freakin' foreign country with the lack of efficiency I encounter on a daily basis. (Now, to all my international friends out there, I am not degrading other countries. Efficiency's value is clearly subjective, but as an American I have come to embrace it as a beautiful thing.) I went to three different places today just trying to exchange some rolls of coins for bills, but to no avail. And of course the drug store doesn't even have a photo lab so your pictures have to be sent off and returned a week later. Not to mention that my local grocery store seems to be contstantly in the restocking process with piles of cardboard boxes taking up half of the already-crowded isles. And apparently using a credit card to purchase your groceries is a huge deal as the cashier yells out "tarjeta" and the guy manning the store's one and only credit card machine comes running as my total bill is being yelled across the store in spanish. So yeah, it's possible to experience culture shock in your own country....

Which brings me to my relatively new life as a social worker in the Bronx. I've always prided myself on the fact that I'm pretty non-judgmental and have a knack for making friends easily. But really it's not that hard when everyone around you is from basically the same background. You know I've been praying a lot for humility lately. I still can't quite wrap my mind around the fact that Jesus knew he was the savior of the entire world, that he was one with God and yet he lived in perfect humility, always treating others as better than himself. I don't get it. Two weeks at work has already challenged my perspective on so many levels. Between my co-workers and clients I am daily encountering people I have little to nothing in common with on so many levels (race, morality and politics to name a few). For one of the first times in my life I'm struggling with knowing how to love people. What do I have to offer to a gay black man with HIV? Or to a culture that feeds the cycle of unwed motherhood? I feel helpless most days.....which is exactly what God had in mind when I prayed for humility. These people need the love of Christ, but I'm just not sure how to give it to them. I'm reminded of an article by Sean Groves that I read in Relevant Magazine a few months ago:

"The modernists were right on one account...we do need to be relevant. Relevance is literally having importance or making a connection. And anything done in love--even if by the staunchest traditionalist--does just that. An invitation is always relevant to the lonely. Hope is always relevant to the depressed. A hot meal is relevant to the hungry. A free baby-sitter is relevant to a single mother needing a break. An hour is relevant to kids who can't read. A vote is relevant to the poor and oppressed. Love can make anyone--or any church--relevant."
Maybe the solution isn't as complicated as I think. Mend the surface and the real Healer will do His work.

Quick Update...and more to come

2004-11-02T01:37:00.000-05:00

Ok, I wish I had all kinds of time to write, but seeing as I have now entered into that mysterious entity called "the workforce" I actually have a bedtime (which was about 2 hours ago). I just wanted to let everyone know that first days of work are generally overwhelming, as I experienced last week. Thanks to everyone who gave me a call or e-mailed to make sure things were ok. They are definitely much better, and I really think I'm going to be challenged and stretched in this job....but in a good way. I couldn't have asked for a more suiting first job, and for that I give nothing but praise to the Lord. I've had all kinds of good stuff floating around this brain of mine, but you'll just have to keep you in suspense for now (I mean, that is a trademark of all famous authors). Sleep calls.....but stay tuned for some funky fresh material comin' your way.

Monday Blues

2004-10-25T20:14:00.000-04:00

Starting a new job and that female time of the month on the same day probably isn't the best of combinations. Not that work was horrible, but it definitely made me question what exactly I'm getting myself into. I don't know what made me think that working for a government-funded program would give me all kinds of freedom to save the world. Just based on what I observed today half the time is spent actually providing some kind of direct service and the other half is spent writing down every single move you made that day. I don't know, maybe I completely missed the boat on this one...or maybe I should just suck it up and not be afraid of a challenge. The reality is that it's only been one day, and at this point my exhaustion is entirely dominating my outlook.

Date Night

2004-10-21T02:53:00.000-04:00

I always seem to come home really excited about writing, and the second I sit down to do so sleep hits full force. In other words, I apoligize to all my beloved fans out there for failing to create coherent sentences. Today was a big day, huge in fact. Red Sox are going to the world series, I was officially offered a job, and I went on my first date in New York City. Life certainly doesn't come in small doses around these parts.

Let's start with the date since it's fresh on my mind. I went out with an aggie from Hereford, TX. Don't worry, it gets better...he goes by "Slim." So, in traditional Texas style we ate Mexican food, went to a Robert Earl Keen concert and finished up the night at a bar called Coyote Ugly. Seriously, who am I? But I can't lie. Aside from not having a taste for beer or knowing a full chorus to any REK song, I had a pretty good time. Unfortunately I have to be all "deep and spiritual" when it comes to this dating stuff so a good time doesn't hold much weight against the more important issues of God, faith, and our place in this world. What I want is someone who desires to please the Lord more than anything. And at this rate it looks like I may die an old maid. I have a feeling this topic will show it's face in plenty of other entries, so if this leaves you begging for more, don't despair.

About the Red Sox's big win....I'm pumped! I have to be careful where I say that around here though. It's just that my whole life I've had a soft spot for the underdog--I can't help myself. Boston, it's been a fun ride, but if my Astros make it to the big time, well....you'll be yesterday's news.

And finally......I have my first real job and I start on Monday!! Tomorrow I'm paying them 25 bucks to do a criminal background check. Is something wrong with this picture? I know I'm new at this whole job gig and all....but shouldn't I be the one getting paid? At any rate, it feels good to be employed. I have no idea what to expect. Texas girl meets the south Bronx--should be a must-see this holiday season. But until then I'll be savoring my precious last days of freedom.

For those interested, here is my new employer: www.cabny.org

Casual Sex and the City

2004-10-16T02:55:00.000-04:00

So I think tonight I was officially introduced to what us Christians call "the world." The other week I ran into a friend on the subway who used to work with me in Bryan, TX (of all places). Tonight I met up with her and some friends at this bar, and it was one of the girls' 30th birthday. Anyways, we were all sitting at the booth having some girl hangout time when I suddenly found myself on an episode of Sex and the City. Now granted I've never seen the show, but I can pretty well guess what a conversation between those characters sounds like. Birthday girl is going on about her long slew of ex-boyfriends, not forgetting important details like male anatomy measurements and how perplexed she is about whether or not to keep the old boyfriend around as a "casual sex thing on the side."
Needless to say, my opinion on such matters was never asked for, and so I sat quietly, secretly relishing this unofficial initiation to The City.

Real People

2004-10-06T13:40:00.000-04:00

I love that I can go to a Bible study in my new home of NYC and a)be outnumbered by guys, b)when asked the question, "What's your favorite type of music?" hear answers ranging from electronica to Cuban Jazz to Brazilian to Stevie Wonder to oldies and c)be asked if anyone wants to grab a beer afterward. Yes indeed....New York is everything I had hoped for and more.

I don't know if anyone would describe New York City as a "breath of fresh air" in the real sense of the term, but that's exactly what it has been for me these first 3 and a half weeks. My faith feels more alive than it has been for about 2 years. I find myself praying out loud as I walk to the subway, feeling a deep sorrow everytime I come across a homeless person trying to keep warm for the night, and being eager to share my beliefs with people because it is such a strange message to their ears. I guess to sum up the experience, my sense of purpose is so much stronger here. As humans we want to be different and know that we actually have something to offer society. But that longing is severely handicapped in an environment where everyone is the same (or tries to be anyways) and something as simple as a nose piercing is synonymous with non-conformity.

In this city I have encountered what I've been starving for...real people. People who aren't afraid to cuss you out on the street or ask a complete stranger about politics or break dance on the subway or freely admit in a Bible study that 90% of the time they are thinking of anything but their relationship with God. And it is in that messiness of reality where God's face become that much more vivid.