TONIGHT.

There's nothing like a bunch of kids in robes waving sticks around to make me happy.

Last Week at a Glance

A day off from work
and a run to DI with my sisters for a desk.
A perfect, old, wooden one
with a roll-top
like a bread box we used to have.
White paint and old clothes
and all day long
turns an old desk into a new one.

Going to see fireworks.
The only time mom will allow us to ride in the bed of the truck.
Lying down
watching the telephone lines
and the clouds
and the tops of the trees fly by.

Recruiting willing and not-so-willing people
for ward choir.
Some of us sounded lovely.

Lunchtime with dad.
Chopsticks
and a silly fortune cookie encounter.

Reassuring words
from my wonderful pen-pal in Argentina
that left a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

A fantastic new building
called a temple
full of light and the spirit
and chandeliers that take your breath away.
Twice.
Once on Tuesday.
Once on Saturday.

Staying in bed until 3:00 PM
with an upset stomach
and Screwtape Letters.

Stealing mom's car
for a date with Becca
and a yummy pork salad with guacamole.

Finding the perfect gift
in an unexpected place for a long lost friend.

Opting for the long route home from work
through the canyon
rather than taking the freeway.
Stress free
and just dazzling.

A reunion with institute and old friends
in a building
chock full of memories.

A "fishing trip" with no poles or bait or licenses
that became instead
desperate searches for friends who had no cell phone reception.
Tin foil dinner around the campfire.
Mmmm.

Making the acquaintance
of a kindred spirit
and trying not to make a fool of myself
when I couldn't find my way.

LATE arrival to a party.
I made it just in time for the good stuff.
Cheese puffs,
hot dogs
and small talk.

Crying with joy for a friend
who is more like a sister.

Card games
and star gazing on the lawn.
Batting away mosquitoes.
Heads on one another's stomachs
and trying not to laugh.

Costco lasagna at the church building
and cookies.
I was more social than usual.
It was refreshing.

Lying underneath
the tree that creates giant apricots
and another tree that won't stop making cherries.
Hidden away from everyone but my family
and that ever more present friend Happiness.
The sunset
wouldn't leave me alone
and it made me jealous of myself.

Staying up late
bugging mom and dad
with the boys.

Staying up even later after saying we'd go to bed.
Ping pong tournaments
into all hours of the night.

I won. :)

Immediate regrets
when my alarm clock buzzed this morning.
Snooze button.
5 times.

Wearing a skirt to work
just because.

Okay, maybe that's a lie.
I should probably do laundry.

And I say I have no life.
I think I should "have no life" more often.
I like being me. :)

Me 'n' Clive

I'm going through a bit of a fixation. It happens quite often that when I discover a fresh idea (or a new restaurant, a strange word, an original film, etc.) I find it terribly intriguing and cannot leave it alone until I've had my fill of it. I am positive it becomes annoying to those who see me every day, but some things are just so lovely that it's impossible for me to resist their charm. Well, world, meet my newest fascination:

Professor Clive Staples (Jack) Lewis
Born: 29th of November 1898
Died: 22nd of November 1963

Yes, my dears, this is C.S. Lewis. Novelist, academic, medievalist, literary critic, essayist, lay theologian, Christian apologist, and genius extraordinaire. (I added that last bit, though many would concur.) He was born in Belfast, Ireland into a good, Christian home but fell into Atheism at the age of fifteen. At 33 he became, once again, a Christian and affiliated himself with the Church of England. His conversion is quite a story, but I'll use his words when he said that he came into Christianity "kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance to escape." (From his book "Surprised by Joy".)

It seems to me that prodigals' conversions tend to be the most lasting, and this is most certainly true for Mr. Lewis. You've all heard of "The Chronicles of Narnia." I grew up on these stories, most especially "The Magician's Nephew" and "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe", however I never knew how intrinsically connected they were to the teachings of Christ until more recently.

"Mere Christianity" is one of those books that I simply cannot get enough of. I honestly cannot understand how one mind of such previous disbelief could wrap itself around ideas so enormous and translate those ideas into language. Or perhaps it is the fact that he simplifies things in such a way as to completely undress human nature that is so incredible. I took a highlighter to my copy of this book, and after a few chapters decided it would be more sensible to highlight the parts that were not of any use to me. I saved a lot of ink. I did not have to highlight a single word after that. C.S. Lewis uses logic and common sense to explain how Christianity is the only plausible explanation for life or matter of any kind. Just brilliant.

Listen to this:

"... the real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.

"We can only do it for moments at first. But from those moments the new sort of life will be spreading though our system: because now we are letting Him work at the right part of us. It is the difference between paint, which is merely laid on the surface, and a dye or stain which soaks right through. He never talked vague, idealistic gas. When He said, 'Be perfect,' He meant it. He meant that we must go in for the full treatment. It is hard; but the sort of compromise we are all hankering after is harder--in fact, it is impossible. It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad."

Wow. Deep, huh?

Currently, I am reading "The Screwtape Letters" which is just as mind boggling as everything else C.S.L. has written. How clever to take the position of devils in order to make known our human faults and weaknesses.

Well, I won't bore you too much more with details of his life, but one other fact that I thought was awfully wonderful is that one of the people who majorly contributed to C.S. Lewis' conversion was none other than J.R.R. Tolkien, the author of "The Lord of the Rings." The two of them were collegues at Oxford College in the English faculty, and became close friends.

How cool is that??

Well, I suppose I'll end by endorsing his writings. Read them. (But only if you have loads of time to spend pouring over each sentence.) This is not light reading, in the usual sense of the phrase, however I do consider it LIGHT reading as it enlightened me more than most books do.

Oh, Clive. What a guy.

Happy Fathers Day!!

Hi everybody! Sorry I've been so absent lately. I've been quite busy since I moved home. I've been back working at Rimrock with my dad, switching back and forth from the accounting office to the estimating department to the receptionist desk. Although I'm not a big fan of waking up early, I do enjoy the time I get to spend with my dad. Because Jake and I are sort of sharing a car right now, I have to hitch a ride with my dad to get to work a lot of the time. I know he's probably tired of having to wait for me in the mornings, but I enjoy every moment I get to spend with him.

I also feel like I've gotten to know my dad better because I see him in the work environment. I've known him as my father, as my friend, as a teacher, as my bishop and now as my boss, and even after knowing him all my life, I am just barely starting to understand what kind of a person he is. Not only is he an amazingly kind, easygoing person and a hard worker, but he is so honest and just dang smart! Just yesterday I heard quite a bit of a phone conversation he had with one of his clients as we were on our way home from work, and even though this guy was being downright unreasonable and hard headed for three hours, my dad didn't blow up at him like I would have. (Patience is another virtue of his that I do not possess.)

If only there was a way that I could explain in words exactly how I feel about my dad. I guess the only thing I can compare it to is the love that I feel for my Heavenly Father. I'm beyond grateful... to the point of feeling completely indebted. How can I ever repay him? Perhaps the answer is simply: I can't.

Daddy, thanks for being there to support me...

... and thanks for always being someone I can look up to.
I love you!

HAPPY FATHERS DAY!!

Go Green

Out of breath

I walk to class.

Upbeat.

No coat.

The breeze feels nice.

Thank goodness.

A person in a green shirt

and another

and one more.

Green hat,

green tie,

green necklace.

Shoot.

I look down

at my black shirt and shoes,

my grey jacket,

my blue denim jeans.

Frown.

I was going to wear

green shoes.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day! Take luck!

Merciless

February frosts my windowpane and my expression.

With a sullen glance at the clock on the wall, I can't help but wonder if the cold that has frozen everything outside has taken hold of time as well.

Winter has curled her slender, pale fingers around my world and won't relent her grip until her shift is over.

Will she ever take a year off?

Peeved.

There's a mountain in my kitchen.

It's made of plates and bowls.

It's overrun the sink and more...

including all our souls.

I'd swear the thing's alive,

a reproductive pile.

I've finally come unhinged at this,

my own customized trial.

You'd never guess that dishes

could irk a coed so...

but OCD is real, you see

and peaks when sinks o'erflow.

My eyes well up with tears.

My roomies just ignore it.

But when your life's in disarray,

you sometimes have to CHORE it!

Day two hundred and five:

My fingers have decayed.

It's hard to type with only stubs,

but it's a worthy trade.