tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20106158388540860522024-03-13T14:56:32.069-07:00{no longer} homeless in denvercarolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.comBlogger240125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-68754406596593750902013-10-27T21:21:00.004-07:002013-10-29T07:22:18.179-07:00free pizza<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
silence is my enemy. its in the silence that my head begins to reel. but tonight i sat in it, i soaked it in. i let my thoughts run and flip inside my head. <br />
<br />
as i biked home tonight from a long shift at starbucks, it felt like the city was sleeping. it was only 11pm on a sunday night, but Philadelphia was quiet and calm. silence. it was the kind of quiet when you can actually hear the click of the stop lights switch from red to green.<br />
<br />
i sat at a red light, and waited for the click. <br />
<br />
click.<br />
<br />
i didn't move my feet, instead i looked down and saw an overflowing bag of free starbucks food and a dominos box. i was overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation.<br />
<br />
***<br />
A couple nights ago, I was talking to some friends about wanting pizza. All I wanted in the world for my free Saturday night was a pizza, a movie and my very terrible attempt at crocheting. In my head, my happiness would only happen if I had Dominos in hand, the best gluten free pizza in Philadelphia - trust me. But I thought about being responsible, and less impulsive and self gratifying and I passed on the g-free slice of heaven, and it was shocking - but I did survive.<br />
<br />
I woke up late this morning and headed to New Jersey to meet up with some old friends I used to work with at Wills Eye. We laughed and ran in to corn stalks and away from bees, there was not a cloud in the sky, but there was sun on my face and a fullness in my heart. I was with dear friends who, when I think about them, I get this feeling that can only be described as "warm and fuzzy". I don't know what a fuzzy feeling should feel like, but I know I feel it when I think about these women and their families. <br />
<br />
I came home, walked in the door and my mood went from pure bliss to a 5 year-old whiner in a matter of seconds. I had to park half way down the block <em>and</em> I had to work at my second job <em>and</em> I was missing my Sunday night Walking Dead night at a friends house.. Mind you, my legs work fine, so the parking situation was not a big deal and the job is truly a blessing. A blessing I should be overly grateful for, but instead I complain about it with every breath for 2 hours before I go in. <br />
<br />
My roommate Lindsey and I were talking about something important to me when I felt like she was being insensitive and I shut down. In hindsight, I was just whining and in a pissy mood for going in to work on a sunday, and taking it out on poor Lindsey (who was already suffering because she had to watch the Eagles terrible loss - read: embarrassing loss). Instead of shutting down as well, she stood up danced in front of me until I couldn't stand it any longer and I had to laugh. She always does that - turns my moods around, even if its her I am mad at - I can't stay mad for long. She doesn't let me sit in my negativity. Life is too short for anyone to sit in negativity, and she won't allow it. For that, I am so grateful for her and for her spirit and the fact I get the privilege of living with her.<br />
<br />
We laughed, the Eagles lost, and she even gave me her soup for dinner. I was well on my way to having a better night..<br />
<br />
I went in to work, barely making it in on time. In therapy, when your clients don't show up on time repeatedly, it means they don't want to be there. Every time I go into work, I realize I don't want to be there when I clock in with seconds to spare before I am considered "late". They threw me on bar, making drink after drink, the line winding around the store. I was overwhelmed but handling it as long as I kept tunnel vision. I heard a couple customers say "excuse me" but I ignored them, I was scared they might actually need something. Out of sight, out of mind.<br />
<br />
I had been at this pace for about 2 hours when I heard "excuse me", but I was still ignoring those words. The man said "umm, Carolyn?" I looked up and saw a Dominos delivery man staring at me. I put down the 3485th pumpkin spice latte I had made that evening and stared at the delivery man, who in turn, stared back at me. <br />
<br />
"Carolyn?"<br />
"Yes, I'm Carolyn"<br />
"I have your pizza"<br />
"I didn't order a pizza"<br />
"But I have a pizza for Carolyn"<br />
"But I didn't order a pizza"<br />
"Are you Carolyn?"<br />
"Yes, but I didn't order a pizza, do I need to give you money?"<br />
"No. Paid"<br />
...tears ensued. my shift let me take a break.<br />
<br />
It was so nice. My friends bought me pizza. And my favorite kind, Dominos Gluten Free Hawaiian, if you were wondering. <br />
<br />
I was so happy. <br />
<br />
I was biking home after work and I looked at the pizza box and all the left over salads work was throwing away (which means lunch and dinner for me tomorrow) and I was so overwhelmed. I thought about my roommate, and my friends and my church, my sleeping city. I thought about my lack of hunger, and the glorious morning I spent basking in the sunlight on a hayride with people I love so deeply. I thought about my friends who completed their adoption with their son just 2 days prior, and my friends who recently got married, as well as some who will get married soon. I thought about my family and how blessed I am to have parents who call me so often, <em>just because</em>. I thought about the kids I get to serve at Create every single Wednesday who trust me enough to hug me every time they see me. <br />
<br />
I feel so lucky.<br />
<br />
I pray often; but tonight, I am praising like I should do more often. I am rolling around the word <em>blessings,</em> sitting in reality of the vast amount I have in my life. I have so much, I feel so full in heart and in life. Things aren't always perfect, and life doesn't always look the way I want it to, but God is present in the good and the bad. He has blessed with me friends I can talk to honestly and I know they will listen and not judge me. I take many things for granted, but tonight I have a thankful heart. Thankful for such good friends and amazing community.<br />
<br />
Praise God from whom all blessings flow. seriously ya'll. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-76249592601730704002013-10-17T20:13:00.001-07:002013-10-17T20:20:03.174-07:00habits<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am a creature of habit. I don't like change and I really hate when I have no control of the change around me. I know this is not a sexy characteristic, so I hide it the best I know how in front of strangers and new friends...but my old friends know I hate change. I like rhythms, familiarity, that feeling of being comfortable. Gosh, it makes me shudder just thinking about how unadventurous I <em>actually</em> am. The cats out of the bag, I suppose. <br />
<br />
There are some serious repercussions of my unadventurous spirit, and some not-so-serious ones. <br />
<br />
Not so serious:<br />
Trying new things is really hard and anxiety producing. I talk <em>a lot</em> about the things I want to do, learn, accomplish. But I don't take that leap. There are a couple reasons for this. <br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>One: I am not naturally talented, so when I learn things for the first time I look foolish. I don't like looking foolish, obviously.</li>
<li>Two: Some times some of my grandiose ideas cost a lot of money. Social workers don't typically make a lot of the green. And I have googled how much those silly rock walls cost for one lesson...and don't get me start on how much it cost to learn how to fly a plane.</li>
<li>Three: I am an extrovert. I like doing things with others, but I don't like looking foolish in front of others. I would like to do new things with others. I look foolish when I try new things. I don't try new things in front of others. So I don't try new things. And so on, and so forth. </li>
</ul>
A little more serious:<br />
I get really sad when there is change in my social circle. People are constantly leaving me in Philadelphia. Which is funny, because I use to threaten all the people of Philadelphia I would leave you first. But I digress. This is a problem because they are no longer part of my routine and instead of thinking of the great things they are going on to, I am selfishly thinking about how they are not part of my daily rhythm and it makes me sad. It is change.<br />
<br />
Serious:<br />
Being comfortable changing thought patterns or negative behaviors (sin) is something I have struggled with for years. When you don't like change, it makes it really hard for the Lord to work in your life to change you and shape your spirit to resemble one more like Jesus. This could also be classified under stubborn, prideful, blind, etc etc.<br />
<br />
I will never forget a life changing moment at Urbana in St. Louis in 2006. Brenda Salter McNeil (gosh, I really love her) got up and started preaching. That woman was on FIRE with passion. She repeated over and over, "Never settle, because where you settle, you will die". I think in a lot of ways, when we get scared of change, when I push against heart changes that need to happen, when I become lazy instead of picking up a new hobby - I am settling. This is a scary thought because being stagnate causes death, maybe not always physically but definitely emotionally and spiritually. <br />
<br />
Instead of being paralyzed with fear of change, I decided to take a step tonight. Just like so long ago in 2006 when I stepped on a mountain for the first time in Colorado and decided to give this whole "snowboarding thing a whirl" (see my first time out with a couple of my patient friends who I looked VERY foolish in front of as it took my 4 hours to get down the mountain the first time)<br />
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After I conquered my fear of snowboarding, I even decided to jump out of a plane a couple days later.</div>
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It was totally worth looking foolish.</div>
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Over the years, I have gotten much better about enduring and even embracing changes such as letting my friends leave me in Philadelphia. My selfishness has dwindled and I have matured (somewhat) in this area. I have started new and big things that have been really scary and then I realize, that was because Jesus' hand was in it. It wasn't from me, it wasn't about me.</div>
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There have been, however, many other things I have talked about starting, learning, accomplishing that I have not done anything about. This list includes, but is not limited to, learning the guitar, going to more concerts, learning to crochet, learning how to rock climb, learning how to fly a plane, going kayaking at least once a year, going to a play/symphony during that rush period an hour before, competing in a Tri, visiting California, taking more hip hop classes, trying yoga, taking real pictures, the list (seriously) goes on and on....</div>
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So tonight, I bought a ticket to a concert to see one of my favorite bands: The Lone Bellow coming in November to Philadelphia AND........I did this.</div>
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Well on my way to not being scared to mess up. Preparing to embrace the foolish look. </div>
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Life is too short.</div>
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carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-34951143369589320402013-09-20T12:09:00.000-07:002013-09-20T12:11:56.394-07:00the music of a war child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been working on a post about the power of words and it's not going...great. When you write about words with words, it doesn't exactly have the <em>umph</em> you think it will...<br />
<br />
Anyway, inbetween drafting up a post I started to distract myself with TED talks.<br />
<br />
I love TED talks. Like a lot. Every time I listen to one I feel inspired to change the world. I guess that's the point, though, right? <u>People use their words to inspire others to act or think differently</u>. <br />
<br />
Maybe one person out of the thousands who hear the talk will act, and I would call that a success.<br />
<br />
Anyway, while grasping for inspiration on what to write, I saw this video. <br />
<br />
We all have preconceived notions about <em><strong>war, refugee, child solider</strong></em>. Upon hearing or reading these words, it is natural to have a response. Most of the time that response is a negative one. Rightfully so. But I would challenge you to watch this and take heart. Instead of <strong>sadness</strong> <strong>and despair</strong>, choose <strong>hope</strong> next time you think about one of those words. <br />
<br />
<div>
<em>And so, I need you to watch this video. But before you click to watch (and it will be worth it), I need highlight some things to be mindful of.</em></div>
<ul>
<li>Many times, TED talks are watched by upper middle class educated yuppies & idealistic college students, therefore when the music gets going at the end, watch the audience instead of Emmanuel. Watching the audience in bewilderment, struggling to figure out how to move their arms and bodies in sync with a beat may have been one of my favorite moments of the whole video.</li>
<li>Also, note the woman taking video of the performance, find her and let her know TED talks are already video taped. But thank her for giving the TED camera guys that really sweet, unfocused, focused, unfocused shot. You'll see...</li>
<li>be encouraged</li>
<li>choose hope</li>
<li>pray, everything he describes is a tragedy. If it doesn't break your heart, you are not listening. </li>
<li>want to get involved? let's chat.</li>
</ul>
<a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/emmanuel_jal_the_music_of_a_war_child.html" target="_blank">I tried to embed the video. It didn't work, so just click here.</a></div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-10331107436918404512013-09-02T06:31:00.000-07:002013-09-02T06:31:02.269-07:00motivation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This morning while I was <strike>running</strike> swimming through the city, I saw a man sitting on a wall. I saw him about the time my salty sweat had just started to drip in to my eyes, burning with every blink. This is actually a blessing while I'm running because I'm not thinking about how much I want to die, instead I'm thinking, "Why aren't my eye brows working? I need to get a sweat band. How can I possibly make this look good?"<br />
<br />
Anyway. I saw this guy. He was an older gentleman and had on a bright, highlighter bright, orange shirt. He was sitting on the wall outside of a big beautiful church and he smiled at me.<br />
<br />
I guess this is when I should mention when I run I do NOT smile, mostly I look super angry. I'm working on it. <br />
<br />
But this time, I smiled back and then I looked at his shirt "Running sucks". HA I need that shirt. <br />
<br />
Thank you sir, for making me feel not so alone on my run. Thank you for making me laugh. My morning motivation. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-52957423529889881312013-08-28T07:38:00.002-07:002013-08-28T07:38:24.720-07:00perception<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Over the past couple weeks I have really wanted to write. Which is ironic since I spend most of my time at work writing. But every time I am feeling motivated to write I am not by a computer or I have previous engagements I am required to attend like "work" or "church" or "eat" or "duck dynasty". Life is hard. <br />
<br />
I have been thinking a lot about a topic that ties in to my previous post about identity; I have been thinking a lot about perception lately. Our identity is often times wrapped up in what others think of us...their perception of who we are. Some times their perceptions of who we are are spot on, but a lot of times they are not because we spend a lot of time with inner dialogue we never and should never voice and therefore we feel no ones perception of us is really all that accurate. <br />
<br />
Because I am in the helping field and a thoughtful writer, I thought I would just give you the definition of "perception" to make sure we are on the same page. Merriam Webster (whoever made him/her/it boss) said perception is defined as "a result of perceiving". When I found that to be unhelpful, I noticed a link "<em>See perception defined for kids</em>" ah ha. That's where I need to explore. I clicked, expecting simple, concise knowledge and I got this, "a result of perceiving". Right....moving on.<br />
<br />
There is this "common thought" if you will, about a particular man in my circle of friends. I have heard it from multiple people, including him. They (being his roommates) say, "he is the most not put together, together person in the world". Which is a ridiculous statement for so many reasons, I mean have they met all the people in the world? So dramatic. I know nothing about being dramatic. Such an exaggeration.*<br />
<br />
Anyway, I have thought about that because the person in which this statement has been made (I wont 'out' him publicly) does not feel this is true. This is just a perception of him. This made me start thinking....what are peoples perceptions of me? What are the false perceptions rolling around in my life?<br />
<br />
While I was thinking about it, I was trying on dresses at a store. I was on vacation and when you spend money on vacation it doesn't count (false perception 1). I also have this idea that I am much more glamorous than I actually am while on vacation, because I'm not working and I'm always ordering food and ice cream (if you eat terrible food but you are on vacation you don't gain weight) (false perceptions 2 & 3). Vacation dialogue goes something like this, "Now where is my butler" "Another margarita please, yes one for everyone in the restaurant too...one for everyone in the world!" "I have an endless supply of money" "oh, you have to work? That must be dreadful, darling" "I would like to purchase a hermit crab for every child on the beach" "world peace!". I also begin to think its okay to refer to strangers as "honey" "doll" and "dear". It's not. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I was trying on dresses at a local Delaware store that I love and only shop at when I'm feeling glamorous (on vacation). I put on a dress and thought "Oh, I could wear this to a wedding" "Oh, I can wear this one to a rehearsal dinner" "This is a great date dress" "This dress will be perfect for when I have my own rehearsal dinner in 50 years, I'm sure it will still be the latest trend and fit me like a dream" "If I just lose like 8 pounds, this one will zip"<br />
<br />
I know....Houston...well, you know the rest. <br />
<br />
The problem here is that I already have dresses for all the weddings and rehearsal dinners I have planned for October (three) so I don't need another one (what I need to buy are wedding gifts). Also this thought process reveals that I perceive I am so important that my friends will notice if I wear the same dress to more than one wedding (hint: they won't unless I am wearing white or if they have a crush on me and spend hours going through all of my 4309847560247 pictures I have tagged on facebook - a problem for another post). And the second incorrect perception is that I am rich. Both of these perceptions are false and I walked out of the dressing room with the 28 dresses I had tried on and handed them back to the nice sales woman. Surprisingly, she did not snarl at me when I said "no, I don't want any of them. that's right, not one. But thank you for letting me take up one of your two dressing rooms for the last 4 hours". <br />
<br />
As far as the thoughts regarding 'date dresses', I will start by saying I am a woman. I am not dating anyone and I do not have endless dates lined up and therefore do not need date dresses. But like I said, I am a woman living in America and we were taught in 2nd grade to have date dresses. This is more of a fact than a perception, but I do perceive I am awesome enough that someone will want to date me...some day. And when that day comes, I will not have the perfect date dress. And I'm sure the guy won't notice, because hopefully I will be on a date with a guy who is straight....and doesn't understand the meaning of "sooo last season".<br />
<br />
Another perception is "I am funny". I laugh at myself <em>all</em> the time, literally all the time. Sometimes I start laughing before I get a chance to say my funny thought. Sometimes I don't get to say my funny thing, but I have satisfaction in knowing how funny I could have been. Sometimes I get the chance to say the funny thing and no one else laughs except me. From this scenario, I still have satisfaction from at least one person laughing - me. Win-win... I have come to realize I am not that funny, but I really like to laugh and find a lot about life and people humorous.... Seriously, if I didn't laugh about all the crazy stuff that happens to me, I would lose it. <br />
<br />
I thought about continuing this post, to include my perceptions about my weight, salt water taffy and my 8th grade formal but I have learned recently that less is more. So I will save my other perceptions for a "part 2" or during a conversation where you buy me a coffee/beer/ice cream...or maybe a coffee ice cream float in a stout....I have a really hard time with <em>'less is more'</em>. <br />
<br />
<br />
*I am very dramatic. This was blatant use of sarcasm. Also tried making up a word here. It didn't make sense, so I took it out but I googled it before I deleted it to see if it was a word. Sometimes Daniel Luster does this and he gets one right. I did not.</div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-44881837813416554982013-06-30T20:55:00.003-07:002013-06-30T20:55:54.989-07:00identity crisis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lets talk identity. It seems like recently I have been having a lot of conversations around identity. (Maybe I have been having them for years and never stop to think about it.) There are a few observations I have made.<br />
<br />
People have identity crises sometimes. Its scary not only for the person who is living in it, but also for those around them - they can no longer categorize this person in their life. This is confusing on many levels. And Americans like structure and fitting people in boxes. Don't mess with our boxes. Things get messy. <br />
<br />
People want to have identity in something. This goes back to wanting to be "known". Normally people are known for something they have accomplished or are exceptionally talented doing. When someone does not think they are exceptional at something, they feel their identity is lost, or worse - boring!<br />
<br />
Identity, everyone has one. No matter what. Even you and me. We have classified ourselves. We create our identity and sometimes let others help shape it as well. Some aspects of our identity we love and some we loathe. <br />
<br />
Which brings me to the point of this post. I have come to terms with my identity. Are you ready for it? I bet you'll never guess what it is. Well...first, let me tell you some things I am not, but at certain times in my life wished I was. <br />
<br />
I am not crafty. I would love to love Pintrest. I would love to be able to put together a party and have decorations that are cute and vintagey - is that even a word? But I can't do it. Its not my thing. I want so desperately to knit you a sweater and wrap your gift with the perfect DIY bow I sewed together using the thread I dyed in my vintage bucket I got weathered personally by Anthropologie. But guess what - its not gonna happen. I have friends who are very gifted in this area and for a long time, instead of encouraging their gifts, I got jealous of them. No more. I will never own napkin holders and I will never know how to not match in order to match and be trendy. I probably will never enjoy a crafting party, The letters "DIY" stress me out when placed together in that order, and I will never be considered an artist. I am structured and type A with a Google Doc for everything. And that's ok - it makes me happy. <br />
<br />
I am not a chef. BUT...drum roll please. I can cook. There, I said it. For years I have said "I cannot cook" and I have finally come to terms with the fact that I can. The correct terminology I should have embraced long ago is I do not enjoy cooking; and I am not creative while participating in it. And, again, that's ok! I will leave it up to my friends that like do it and write blogs about it and get enjoyment out of it - and I'll bring the wine. Which sounds like such a better option for me. <br />
<br />
I am not a runner. This is verryyyy trendy amongst my friends. People run in Philly! They love it, so much so that they join running clubs and run in pairs. They run a lot and for a long time and go really far...and they think its fun! I will never understand this, because I don't like running. But I like swimming and playing tennis, dancing and biking. All very equivalent to running, but the biggest difference is I enjoy those activities. <br />
<br />
I am not gentle. When I became a Christian there was a verse that plagued me. It creeped into my inner dialogue and kept me up at night and made me whimper when I read it. 1 Peter 3:4. The author is talking about where a woman's beauty should come from. Let me quote it to you: "Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight". YIKES. Have you met me?? Gentle or Quiet are not things I do well. Brash and confrontational are more my speed. I'm a mover and a shaker! Spunky and full of life, unwavering in my beliefs, passionate, unyielding, excitable and boisterous are words that come to mind when I think of myself. Now I have come to realize reading one line in the bible is a sure fire way to take holy scripture out of context and, in turn, get upset over the misunderstanding. After reading a few stories in the Bible about some of the women, I do not think God intended for us to be a "mushroom in the corner" as my father says (please read previous post about him, you will understand that reference much better). But seriously, He gave me this spirit for a reason - to keep you on your toes. Not to stifle my spirit and pretend to be something I am not. He made me this way for a reason, and I fully embrace the lively personality I possess. <br />
<br />
I am not athletic. Gosh, I wish this weren't true. Because I like sports and I enjoy playing them. But lets be real - I'm not good at them. But it's not about winning or losing, its about how you play the game. Which in my case is not that hopeful because I play the game terribly. I have fun though! Sorry all you competitive boys I play any sports with! I am teaching you patience. Get over it.<br />
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I don't know anything about politics, history, science or most of what is going on around me. I am trying to get better at this, because I know this isn't something I should be proud of - and believe me, I'm not. I should know why our economy is failing and what happened in that war way back when. I should know the difference between an atom and a neuron...should those even be in the same category?? But I just haven't focused a lot of time or energy into learning that stuff. And I was a terrible student, so the little I did learn is now gone. Wiped clean to make room in the brain for other things. So next time I laugh at your political joke or current event reference, know I am doing it to be nice and so that I won't appear dumb. I really have no idea what you are talking about. Much more than you probably think.<br />
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I'm not really that cool. I know - shocking. <br />
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Now I know what you are thinking, "wow Carolyn...depressing". But the good news is, I know what I am! For years I have struggled with focusing on the things I am not. I have looked at other people and thought, man I really wish I was crafty/artsy, athletic, smart, really cool. But I am not! So lets focus on what I am. Have you figured it out yet? <br />
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The answer is.....I am a people person. I like people. I know a lot about people, because I listen to them. I like talking to people and hearing their story and drinking coffee and taking walks while they talk about what makes them tick. What makes their heart beat a little faster and what makes their palms sweat. What makes their brows furrow and their stomach churn. I like to make people laugh and let them cry when they need to cry. I enjoy hearing about their journey and make them feel safe in sharing the process with another human being that could easily take that vulnerability and smash it into a million pieces. <br />
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But more importantly, my identity is wrapped up in Christ and who He has made me. When I was having an identity crisis, a couple good friends pointed this out to me. Sure I could focus on all the things I am not, and all the things I could be or I could focus on the only thing that matters - Jesus. And a sigh of relief and comfort came over me. I don't have to impress anyone, I need no one else's approval. My only job here is to have an identity in Christ by glorifying who He is, what He has done and loving others in the process. <br />
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Instead of embracing the jealously that can arise when I hear about the amazing things others are doing and accomplishing, I will commit to encouragement, happiness and love. I don't think I am alone in this. I think we all feel it in some way. We were all made for greatness but if we are so focus on someone else's greatness, we will miss our story. Let us not focus on our shortcomings, or the shortcomings of those around us because we will miss what makes us great. What makes you great? What makes you - you? </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-42972395309494954312013-06-26T08:17:00.002-07:002013-06-26T08:17:15.964-07:00I want so badly to believe....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
.....that "there is truth, that love is real"<br /> and I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd<br />
<br />
Clark Gable is one of my all time favorite songs. Beside the fact that I think The Postal Service is genius in their melodies, their lyrics are brilliant as an added bonus. <br />
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I was listening to this song this morning while I was doing my work and I started thinking (uh oh). Mind you it is Wednesday, and on Wednesdays I am always a little more thoughtful and analytical. Because every Wednesday, for almost 3 years (over 3 years?) a small group of ladies and I have been meeting to talk, laugh, cry, talk, pray, cry, eat. This morning's conversation was rich and vulnerable; in turn it made me feel full and known. A rarity among 20 somethings of my generation. <br />
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But it made me start thinking....<br />
What an awesome time in my life this is. <br />
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And then I started thinking....<br />
I want to look back on my life and have no regrets. I don't know how to do that, or where to start, but I know it involves risk and confrontation. <br />
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I am thinking..<br />
I am really lucky. Praise God, seriously. <br />
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That is all. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-46990562911904178242013-06-12T10:50:00.004-07:002013-06-12T10:50:38.826-07:00every day should be father's day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few weeks ago my father saw my (third) tattoo. And he didn't freak out.<br />
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This statement is possibly one of the most shocking statements I have ever proclaimed, with the exception of my declaration last night: "I'm training for a half marathon"....we'll see how long that one lasts. If you know me I know what you are thinking, "Carolyn, you exaggerate all the time...no way that is the most shocking statement you have ever made" (I am hearing Justin and Jeremy in my head as I type this). But I will counter that argument with, have you met my father? Let me introduce you to him.....<br />
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My 5'2'' father is 71, he is from Tuckahoe, New York...essentially NYC. He was raised by a single mother, Louise, and his grandfather, Pop pop, in the 40's; he was an only child. He started working when he was 13, sang in the church choir and ran cross country for his high school. He followed in his father's footsteps and joined the Army right after high school. Because of his father's rank he was placed in the "guided missiles" department in the Vietnam War (he is also dyslexic which makes me very nervous when I think about the missiles he was in charge of writing coordinates for....). He started his own business and bought a house in Delaware in the early 70's. When he was set up with my Mom, he was also dating 4 other women at the same time. He tells me constantly its the only way to go, date, date, date. He still owns a flip phone, does not have an e-mail address and has no idea how to turn on a computer or how to check his voicemail, forget about a text message. <br />
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He is loud, boisterous and short. Life of the party, story teller (exaggerator) extraordinaire. He is where my <em>life of the party</em> personality comes from. I may look down on him physically, but I look up to him in life lessons he has taught me during my 27 years here on Earth. In general, I would say he tends to be a little more on the "conservative, traditional" side of things....and by that I mean he is the most conservative, traditional person I know.<br />
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A lot of times when I think about who my father is, I wonder where I came from, and I think he does too. His liberal, outrageous daughter adorned with tattoos and living in the scary city is a bewilderment to him; every single day he shakes his head in confusion. We fight, bicker and misunderstand each other all the time. But we also love each other in a deep way, in a "blood is thicker than water" kind of way. He let me cry on his shoulder and was there for every ballet performance I had for 13 years. He was there when I failed and with every success I had as well. He was there, putting aside any plans he may have had for his day, year or life. He pushed them aside and made room for his children, each in our own way. Granted none of this would have been possible without my mother there to support him, but I'll save that for another post. <br />
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I will always appreciate his voicemails. My favorite one is still the one in which in sang (tune: Mickey Mouse song) "M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E........LARRIVEE, LARRIVEE. and if you call me, maybe I'll pick up the phone, but if I don't I'll call you anyway. LARRIVEE, LARRIVEE. <br />
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I will appreciate when he knows he will not win in an argument against the 4 women in the house and he sits back with his hands folded across his round stomach, feet crossed out in front of him. He drags a deep sigh of air before he declares "aw, shit" and then lets the argument die. I chuckle now when I think about the chaos this has caused in our house.<br />
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There are so many statistics of fatherless in our country, it is an epidemic, a tragedy. I am blessed every day to say my father desires to have a place in my life. I regret to confess I don't always make room for him there. I am thankful for him and his crazy antics and words of wisdom from growing up in the 1940's that he tries to apply to my life now in 2013. I am thankful for our differences, for the growth we can make together. I am so blessed to be able to call my Dad and say "Happy Father's Day Daddy". I pray I never take this for granted. <br />
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happy fathers day ed, maybe one day you'll learn to turn on a computer so you can read this, I mean that in the most sincere, nicest way possible. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-26442307342772238632013-05-13T13:14:00.000-07:002013-05-13T13:14:53.780-07:00a social media respite<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I can remember where I was sitting when I heard the word "facebook". It was my junior year of college. The exclusive website was only available to those lucky enough to be in college at the time. Now I could stalk whoever I wanted with zero consequences. Genius. <br />
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Slowly facebook started getting weird. "Your Mom is on facebook?!" "No...my GRANDmom is on facebook". People were being cut from study abroad trips, they were being turned down from job opportunities all because their facebook pictures looked....questionable. Character judgements were being made through facebook profiles. I was getting invitations for farm games and candy crushes. The layout changed once (annoying), and then again (worse), and then again (unbearable), and then again.........I don't even know how to use it and I still <em>hate</em> the "Time line"<br />
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And then I got "friended" (which is now a word according to webster) by people who I would not recognize if I passed them in the grocery store of my very small home town. Last time I checked I am pretty good at recognizing my friends. Unless the definition of friend has changed. Lets look up the definition of friend together. <br />
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<span class="vk_ans vk_bk">friend</span> /frend/<div id="pronunciation_flash" style="display: block; height: 0px; position: absolute; width: 0px;">
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<strong>Noun</strong></div>
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<tr><td style="padding: 0px;"><strong>A person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.</strong></td></tr>
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<strong>Verb</strong></div>
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<tr><td style="padding: 0px;"><strong>Add (someone) to a list of contacts associated with a social networking Web site.</strong><br />
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Obviously the verb has been added since 2005 when facebook was created. <br />
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Don't get me wrong, I love me some time on all of the social media websites I am a part of, which is all of them. Facebook, Twitter, Blogspot, LinkedIn, Instagram, Google +. I love figuring out the connections on each site...I <em>love</em> figuring out connections. I love admiring pictures and publishing a witty status, i <em>love</em> the likes! But there comes a point when enough is enough. <br />
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My reality is now being shaped by a website that is accessible for me not only while on my computer, but on my phone when I am hanging out with <em>real</em> live people. These websites create an alternate reality where every one's life looks better than mine. Because I have been cursed with the gender: female, I over analyze and compare my facebook life with other's facebook lives. And my life never looks quite as fun as everyone elses. But I really like my life, a lot.....<br />
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Last night, my roommate Lindsey and I were talking about my comparison problem when she stated, "oh yea, that's a thing, comparing your life to another person's on facebook and thinking your life sucks, its called the facebook syndrome". I've got it and its bad. But if you think about it, who is going to put the ordinary everyday stuff on facebook or the terrible crap in their life; I mean if they do we naturally block them from our newsfeeds because they have now become "boring" or "depressing". Please, I have pictures to like and status' to create. Ain't nobody got time for that (YouTube syndrome).<br />
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And then there is Instagram, my love. I can't say anything negative about Instagram because I love it way too much. But I have heard it is discouraging for those who are not good at finding Instagram photo opportunities. Or for those who have not discovered the exposure button (which makes everyone a photographer). Don't get discouraged though, just use the #VSCO camera and #hashtag the crap outta that picture! Follow me at carrielarrie. I need more affirmation. <br />
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Twitter has been a recent phenomenon for me. And I am terrible at it, you can see for yourself at @carrielarriee. I have had so many conversations about how to use it and that it's "good for the news". But I look up cnn.com or the New York Times. News done. So why twitter? I hate saying the word "twitter" and "tweet", I don't enjoy "following" others. Why am I torturing myself? But seriously, follow me @carrielarriee, I need more affirmation.<br />
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And then there is the scenario of the social gathering turned YouTube fiasco. It all starts with one person saying "Oh man, have you seen ___________ on YouTube? You've got to see it! Hilarious! Best video ever! Viral! Let me show you". Nothing kills a conversation faster than pulling up YouTube on your phone, computer, ipad, ipad mini, kindle fire.....yikes.<br />
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Lastly, LinkedIn. One time a "hand model" added me to their professional network....<em>a hand model</em>, what?! his summary is as follows:<br />
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<em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My education was mostly bogus. The only reason I graduated High school was because my dad taught at the middle school. Most of the teachers/counselors/ local politicians thought I was mental, so I was placed in that room at the back of the hallway on the other end of the school, with the rest of the loons.<br />Some goals: To beat the final board on all the video games where I got to the last level and punked out.<br />Finding another 1991 Eagle Talon only this time, treating it the way it deserves. Regular oil changes, cd player, floormats.<br />Specialties:My dad gave me his fishtie(Largemouth bass) and his Elvistie. I also have a specialshirt, it's the flag of Texas!</span></em><br />
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This guys LinkedIn invitation to me is still pending. I don't want to reject him, but I can't possibly include him in my "professional network", right?<br />
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Somebody help me. Technology doesn't look good on me and I tend of abuse it. So last night I said enough is enough. I hit the deactivate button on Facebook. I don't think this is permanent but its a step. Its a breath of fresh air. A respite. I have no idea what anyone else is doing, looking at, looking for, who they are hanging out with, or engaged to or how many babies they have unless of course I see them in person and have a conversation with them. I know in a couple months after a friends wedding I will have to get back on to see the pictures and dance videos, but for now I'm okay. I'm still breathing, and comparing myself a little less to...everyone on earth. <br />
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Now the only problem is, how am I supposed to share this blog post on facebook? And more importantly, how are you supposed to Friend me now? </td></tr>
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carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-89942080228389433882013-04-26T08:31:00.001-07:002013-04-26T08:31:17.496-07:00behind prison walls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Working for a human services organization, you find out some weird things. Recently I learned you can be mandated to go to prison every weekend. The courts rule that if you only do drugs on the weekends then you are a danger to society, your family nd yourself ....on weekneds. Solution: go to jail every week and you will no longer be a threat to anyone. One of my co workers has a friend of a friend of a friend who spends every weekend in the local prison on state road. I guess she misses a lot of weddings.<br />
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Now a fact about me, every third Sunday I go to prison too. A couple years ago some friends of mine felt convicted to go to prisons and participate in prison ministry. Being the must-get-involved-in-everything person I am, I knew I had to check it out too. I went once and all of the sudden the event "Prison" at 6pm every third Sunday was placed on my google calendar, repeating with no end date. <br />
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We go into the prison and fellowship together, normally there are 6-10 in our very diverse group and 100 men dressed in blue scrubs waiting for a profound message. We start with songs and begin to preach the best way we know how - with humilty and prayer. <br />
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This past Sunday I was feeling especially anxious about church in general. I have been "church hopping" now for a little under a year and I am tired. I am tired of church and expectations and not being known. But when I entered the prison and sat down in the gray plastic chairs (which are purposfully not metal) I sighed and felt at home. I have been worshipping with these guys for almost 2 years and I always learn something new when I go. <br />
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I sat next to one of prisoners playing the piano. He played a beautiful piece I would have paid to listen to all night. I closed my eyes and listened to the music as the men entered, each one shaking hands with us and each other, saying "God bless you" "Hallelujah" "Praise the Lord" and "Thanks for coming". I watched as they filtered in and got on their knees and began to pray. I listened to the music and watched the men and breathed a deep sigh of familiarity, comfort, and beauty. It was such a beautiful moment watching these "criminals" enter and then begin to sing and worship with them. The kingdom of God, the beauty in brokeness, men who know about pain, suffering and regret. <br />
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I sat and listened and smiled knowing this is what Jesus meant when he said <br />
<strong><em>"For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ </em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Then the righteous will answer him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?' </em></strong><br />
<strong><em>And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.'"<br /> (Matthew 25.35-40)</em></strong><br />
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Loving others doesn't have to be pretty or perfect, and sometimes its scary; but i think regret is much more scary than loving others when its hard. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-83817494717216076762013-03-14T11:30:00.003-07:002013-03-14T11:30:30.206-07:00i can't make you love me....if you don't<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The post is brought to you by........random, disjointed thoughts that I have....they are not connected.<br />
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Every time I hear the song "I can't make you love me" sung by Bon Iver (and sometimes when I hear Bonnie sing it), I cry. Every...single...time... I get so emotional. I start thinking about scenarios of unrequited love I have never even experienced. My imaginary boyfriend or love of my life I have never had comes into focus and I "well" up. I fight the urge to plan out and star in a sad music video. You've all done it too. I can't help it really, it's just so beautiful and dramatic. It makes my heart ache.<br />
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A topic of my blog that has come up more than I would like is <u><strong>emotion</strong></u>. Crying over songs, stories, movies, COMMERCIALS. <em>Uhg</em>, this is just not me. I have written more on fighting the crying than embracing it. I have made more comments apologizing for tearing up than asking for a tissue and letting the tears flow. I have fought the emotions of being more than just a <em>woman,</em> but instead, <em>human</em>. I put my fists up brace the gut wrenching feeling of, well...anything. Mind you, it doesn't work and my emotions come out fractured and at the wrong time and towards the wrong person. <br />
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I don't think I'm alone in this. Three times this week, I heard a few friends say they used their husband/fiancé/boyfriend as a "punching bag". Ouch. Ok, not literally...but emotionally. And every time, the guy gives them space and they talk it out and all is good. But WHY do we do this in the first place? <br />
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I think it is instilled in us at a young age that we should not show weakness, and somewhere along the way we equated weakness with crying and sadness. This makes us scared of being depressed, feeling lonely, and talking about emotion too soon. We are told to "guard our hearts" and "be strong" and there's "no use crying over spilled milk". There's not? I think its calling coping and dealing with shit that happens in our lives. Because life is hard sometimes. <br />
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Maybe I'm just getting older. And realizing in this short life, things are worth crying over. Sometimes, that's all you can do. <br />
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This past weekend I went home. Sometimes I feel suffocated by the city. The demanding life of the city wears on me. I am not good at saying no, sitting still or being alone. Which makes living in the city a perfect place for an extroverted young adult like myself. Or maybe it makes it the worst place for me. I hide here in the busyness, in the activities, in the food and drink. <br />
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I don't think being busy is bad. I think its good, and like my last post explained, it is important. But I think when you get to the point where you "have to get out" and "just need to go home", I think you've let the city infiltrate you, crush you with its weight of expectations and, dare I say, broken dreams. I get to this point about every 6 months. I think this time it was expedited by the broken wrist, surgery and starting a new job within a month. But really, those are just excuses. Because regardless of my physical state, I get burned out more often that I care to admit. And now I've admitted it, and you know.<br />
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My family yells. We are a loud, proud people and we want to be heard. I don't think this is bad, but sometimes it can get confusing. Our personalities are loud, except my mom, who is as cute, sweet and quiet as can be; but the rest of us.......whew. </div>
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So I went home to rest, and I yelled. I saw my little baby niece who is growing up way too fast and I love more than anything. She has fashioned herself with red hair and blue eyes, what a great combo. I love her, and I love my family. And apparently, I love yelling. But please, everything in moderation.</div>
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As I write this post, I still feel burned out but full. I am peaceful about it, which is weird. I have come to find that life is exhausting when you live it with your heart open; when you chose vulnerability over isolation. I have been told, as a female, to <em>guard my heart</em>. While this is "smart advice" and I should heed it, it is hard to do. Because when I love, speak, listen, sit, read, watch, write, invite, pray, cry - I do it all with my heart. It's hard to keep my firsts up for that long. <br />
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I was watching a TED talk (gosh, I love them) about being vulnerable. The wonderful PhD woman said that we numb ourselves so that we do not feel pain, sadness, guilt etc. And that makes sense. But you cannot selectively numb. When you numb the bad parts of life, you numb the good ones too - love, vulnerability, happiness, contentment. You guard yourself, you heart from feeling anything when you skip over the bad feelings. So I just feel everything. And it makes me tired. But it makes me full too. And I will argue this point with my dear, big-brother-like-friend, John, to the death of the subject. But we will never agree. <br />
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“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” CS Lewis<br />
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Perspective. I don't love the right way or well, but I'm trying. I'm trying to give up the control of everything going perfectly. Of making everyone happy. Of thinking my life should look different than it does, or that I have to <em>fix</em> myself..to be someone I'm not.<br />
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I try, but I can't make you love me, if you don't. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-5058268955791845882013-02-25T14:24:00.001-08:002013-02-25T18:44:25.721-08:00thinking about justice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span id="internal-source-marker_0.7589304622088774" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This weekend I met a guy.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">...thousands of them, and girls too. Now I have your attention, no doubt, good.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">What I really mean is, this weekend I went to the justice conference in Philadelphia with thousands of men and women. In order to process everything I experienced, I wrote a post when I came home Friday night, and another on Saturday and yet another on Sunday night after processing even more. I erased all of them. I don’t think that I have ever erased a post in its entirety before, but this weekend was a total mind F for me in so many ways. Its hard to process having all of the emotions of guilt, shame, sadness, hope and joy over the same topics. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was talking to a new friend at one point during the weekend, and in passing he mentioned, “I think in song lyrics”. And my response was that “I think in narrative”. In fact, I have been writing and re-writing this post in my head for about 3 days. While I am driving or staring or when I should be listening, I am usually starting a new piece of writing in my head. Thinking through things. When I hear about a person's story or when I replay conversations, it usually concludes in the form of a story. Weird, I know, but ask me how I remember your name sometime and you will discover my thought patterns are weird on all sorts of levels.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was thinking about the conversation, and how thought patterns occur differently for everyone, in between being inundated with the harsh reality of talks on topics such as sex trafficking, immigration, racial injustice, and poverty. As I sat in the bleacher seating, I was thinking, writing, crying and these thoughts rolled over me almost like a dream....</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And who shall I blame for this sweet and heavy trouble?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">For every stupid struggle?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I don't know.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I could buy you a drink.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I could tell you all about it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I could tell you why I doubt it, and why I still believe.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But I can't say it like I sing it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And I can't sing it like I think it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And I can't think it like I feel it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And I don't feel a thing.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Oh no - I don't feel a thing.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And who shall I blame for this sweet and heavy trouble? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">They were song lyrics (thanks pedro the lion). I think in song lyrics too, but also in narrative and in hopelessness and in a depth that makes my heart groan and stomach churn. I think, therefore I am, right? No. It feels like no one does think anymore. Because if they thought, I hope they would do. And no one does anymore. We hole up in our worlds of comfort and stability and we stay there. Or maybe, its not that no one "thinks" anymore its that no one "knows".</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This weekend, the speakers brought to light a couple things to think about...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Good is the enemy of great” - Jim Collins</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Everyone wants to change humanity, but no one wants to change themselves” - Tolstoy by way of Ken (iforgethislastname) </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“We can’t do everything, but we can do something” </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“We (the church) are walking with purpose, in the wrong direction” - Brenda Salter McNeil</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“There are currently 27 million PEOPLE held in slavery today” - Gary Haugen</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Mercy triumphs over judgment”</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“The closer we are to God, the less we want to throw stones at people (John 8:1-11). God is in the business of loving people, sinners, back to life” - Shane Claiborne</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“There have been 400 million babies killed since 1978 for being born a girl in China. Because of this, 500 women take their lives everyday there as well” - Chai Ling</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“There are 11.5 million undocumented immigrants living in the US, 95 % of all the immigrants will never step foot in an American home”</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“”The word immigrant appears 92 times in the bible, and it is constantly linked together with fatherless,widow and the poor, meaning we must help every group and not treat immigrants like actual aliens”. - Jenny Yang & Matt Soerens. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Over 24 million</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> children live absent of their biological father.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">90%</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of all homeless and runaway children are from fatherless homes</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">80%</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of rapists motivated by displaced anger come from fatherless homes</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">75%</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of all adolescent patients in chemical abuse centers come from fatherless homes</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">71%</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of all high school dropouts come from fatherless homes</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">63%</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of youth suicides are from fatherless homes</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cc3300; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">85%</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of all youths sitting in prison today grew up in a fatherless home</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I think about these quotes and facts from the weekend, and so many more and it stirs something up in me. I do not have the answers, and in fact, that is why I erased my first three posts of self righteousness and condemnation for those not “doing” enough. But I am encouraged to think, fast and pray about the injustice happening worldwide to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">human beings</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">. The ones who cannot speak for themselves. And my hope is that out of these thoughts will spring action, not out of guilt but, instead, out of love.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And so I will leave this post well enough alone, ending with quotes, song lyrics, movies, and website links in order to serve every sort of thought pattern. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.” - MLKJr</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less. - CS Lewis</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This is what the LORD says: Be fair-minded and just. Do what is right! Help those who have been robbed; rescue them from their oppressors. Quit your evil deeds! Do not mistreat foreigners, orphans, and widows. Stop murdering the innocent! - Jeremiah 22:3</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Oh, falling leaves should curse their branches</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">For not letting them decide where they should fall</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And not letting them refuse to fall at all</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">David Bazan</span><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't lose your soul as your eyes roll shut<br /> Don't worry, it will be over<br /> Hold on though, you're alone, I am there with you<br /> That much at least I can promise you<br /> You know what's to come to not accept this<br /> Don't lose your soul, you must fight for each breath<br /> Don't go quietly</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>David Roch</strong></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Your sadness it is quite lovely</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But it is the sadness of a slave</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Why don't you give yourself a rest</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Give yourself some room</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You can't get your arms round everybody</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You cannot carry the doom...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">AA Bondy</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There is a design, an alignment to cry</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Of my heart to see,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The beauty of love as it was made to be</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Love; it will not betray you</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Be more like the man you were made to be</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mumford & Sons</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Why can't you be happy</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You make me feel helpless when you get this way"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I said "I'm up to my neck in alligators</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Jaws gnashing at me</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Each one trying to pull a piece away"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Darling, you can't slay these beasts of prey</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Some bad dreams even love can't erase</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But in France they say</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Everyday</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Love puts on a new face</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Love has many faces</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Joni Mitchell</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Everything that I said I'd do</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Like make the world brand new</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And take the time for you</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I just got lost and slept right through the dawn</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And the world spins madly on</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I let the day go by</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I always say goodbye</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I watch the stars from my window sill</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The whole world is moving and I'm standing still</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Woke up and wished that I was dead</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">With an aching in my head</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I lay motionless in bed</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The night is here and the day is gone</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And the world spins madly on</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The Weepies</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> All it takes is a little faith, and a lot of heart </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">- The weepies</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">for the visual learners</span><br />
<a href="http://www.thelinemovie.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.thelinemovie.com/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://whichwayhome.net/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://whichwayhome.net/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> (movie available on netflix instant streaming!)</span><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/54313053"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://vimeo.com/54313053</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://libertyinnorthkorea.org/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://libertyinnorthkorea.org/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> (</span><a href="http://vimeo.com/libertyinnk/videos"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://vimeo.com/libertyinnk/videos</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">) </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">heyyyyy philllaayyy</span><br />
<a href="http://www.workingfilmestb.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.workingfilmestb.com/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"> (</span><a href="http://neighborhoodfilmcompany.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://neighborhoodfilmcompany.com/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">)</span><br />
<a href="http://www.lcfsinpa.org/refugees-and-newcomers/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.lcfsinpa.org/refugees-and-newcomers/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://www.thesimpleway.org/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.thesimpleway.org/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://www.broadstreetministry.org/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.broadstreetministry.org/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">i know you want to shop</span><br />
<a href="http://www.tradeasone.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.tradeasone.com/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://thembainternational.bigcartel.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://thembainternational.bigcartel.com/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://yobelmarket.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://yobelmarket.com/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://befreerevolution.org/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://befreerevolution.org/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">get informed</span><br />
<a href="http://www.ijm.org/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.ijm.org/</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<a href="http://thejusticeconference.com/"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://thejusticeconference.com/</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/">http://www.npr.org/</a></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">GO NUTS! get involved. </span></div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-64282088689413272572012-11-30T22:30:00.000-08:002012-11-30T22:30:06.584-08:00the v word<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
8 long months since the last post. I must say that it dawned on me today that I might lead a boring life and have nothing to report.<br />
<br />
I know I'm not bored, just boring. Thats how we all answer the question right?<br />
<br />
"So what's new with you?"<br />
"Oh, you know...same old. Nothing has really changed. How about you?"<br />
"Yea, nothing is really different, I'm pretty boring I guess"<br />
...and the cycle continues.<br />
<br />
I cannot tell you how many times I have had this conversation. But is just can't be true. It<i> can't </i>be true because, well, I'm me and because I'm human and everyday there is <i>something </i>is new and different. Everyday I see a new building or person and experience a new Philadelphia smell.<br />
<br />
The real issue is, as a dear friend put it tonight, the "v word". I had many guesses as to what she was eluding to....virginity? victory? veritas? no no no. Vulnerability.....duh.<br />
<br />
No one wants to talk about smells, or a conversation that was funny at the time because of how this one person said it this one time in this one voice that they sometimes make; you know the way they say that one word. Repeating those stories never works...trust me, I have tried and tried. But instead, people really want to talk about life. They want to talk about what gets them excited and sad and what urges them to put one foot in front of the other day after day. Right? Maybe not, that may be too much for most people to dive in to, especially when they don't really know the person they are talking to.<br />
<br />
The bottom line is being known. Everyone wants to be known. But no one really wants everyone to really know their faults. By default, revealing yourself involves revealing your flaws, no matter how hard you try to hide them. When you become to known to other people, your insecurities are exposed, your weakness is on display and your heart is open for the stomping. And sometimes it hurts. It hurts in a way that makes your physically groan. I've been there. Recently. Everyday.<br />
<br />
But sometimes, just sometimes...being known means real relationships. Not those fleeting kind that come and go. It means sharing life with others and talking through things that helps other people keep going when they think that can't possibly go another step. Exposure of your heart can mean growth, wisdom and a full life.<br />
<br />
Being vulnerable is hard. But so worth every terrible, life giving, traumatic moment. </div>
carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-17774474543369629252012-04-19T20:55:00.003-07:002012-04-19T20:58:20.357-07:00sleepwalking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">I obsessed with the Civil Wars. Obsessed. When I come home at night I turn on grooveshark and type in "civil wars" almost subconsciously. Sometimes I don't even realize I do it until I'm singing along to Joy's voice and smile at her simple words and beautiful harmonies. I listen to the words and the music as it fills my head and my room and I become full of emotion; contemplative. Two things I try to actively avoid at all cost. Last Sunday I attended church in West Philadelphia at a wonderful church called Antioch. I came home and sat on my back porch and basked in the sunlight of an unseasonably warm mid-April afternoon. I sat and listened to Joy and John Paul's harmonies.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><b>Haven't you seen me sleep walking?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">'Cause I've been holding your hand</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Haven't you noticed me drifting?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Oh, let me tell you, I am</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><b>Tell me it's nothing</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Try to convince me</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">That I'm not drowning</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Oh let me tell you, I am</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><b>Please, please tell me you know</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">I've got to let you go</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">I can't help falling</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><b>Tell me it's nothing</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Try to convince me</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">That I'm not drowning</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Oh let me tell you, I am</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Over the past 2 months I have felt the suffocating weight of drowning in this thing called life, and I didn't even know it. I have felt like I am 'sleepwalking'. I have listened to the repetitive and comforting words of song lyrics and words from those who love me and like water on a wet seal I have let them slide right off my back. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">The sermon this morning was about letting sin suffocate Jesus and the Holy Spirit out of you. Becoming complacent and selfish enough to test the Holy Spirit. Thinking you are better than someone else because you know the right verses to say and you are doing 16 different ministries. You know the motions, you know the words - you can fool the masses. I can fool many.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">We sang songs about the Holy Spirit and we were told to pray, pray, pray. By the end of the sermon the pastor rebuked those guilty of spiritual pride and going through the motions of faith. Having an "us-them" mentality. He talked about stagnation because of too much religion. You get caught up in the motions, in the mindless obligations of the American Church. With a pause and slight tilt in his head, one hand in his pocket the other outstretched; the words spurt out of his mouth like hot coals on my broken heart "God doesn't call the church to cuteness, he calls them to get down on their faces and repent."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">I went home and prayed, prayers of humility and begging for grace. More words from the sermon came into focus. "For every one look you take at your own heart, you should look at the cross 10 times" Grace, mercy, forgiveness. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">"Too many believers are living in too much compromise" conviction.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">Later on, I went to our monthly prison ministry at CFCF. The topic was the Holy Spirit. Joseph and Wayne talked at length about who the Holy Spirit is and I felt lead to speak about what the Holy Spirit can do. Fight. The Holy Spirit fights for you, you need only be still.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">I feel exhausted and like I'm losing the battle. As the words of Joy Williams fills my room, "haven't you seen me sleepwalking?" The feeling of sleeping through life fills my heart. I have been doing all the work. The Holy Spirit intercedes and gives us life and peace. Be still, you need only be still, and the Holy Spirit will fight for you. Wake up and be still. Be. Still.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">wake up. its time to wake up.</span></div></div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-21182039321632343232012-04-06T21:39:00.000-07:002012-04-06T21:39:52.046-07:00the waiting room<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">There is something jarring about a hospital waiting room. People sit in the waiting rooms with expectation. Whether its good news or bad news - they want news. Everyone wants to hear something. We are impatient people...<br />
<br />
As we sat in the waiting room, anyone who walked by in scrubs got an expectant look. We had been up since 5am and the carbs from the bagels has long worn off. We were getting grumpy. They told us the operation would take 5 hours. So we waited 5 hours. And then we got nervous.<br />
<br />
Others came in and out of the room. They sat, read, looked around trying to avoid eye contact mostly. Except one man, who apologized repeatedly for bothering us - he was just so nervous. He had no one to wait with him, his expectant looks went unnoticed by anyone but him. He felt alone. He was scared. It was his wife, and he was scared.<br />
<br />
I was scared and I knew my mom was too. She spoke a lot, more than normal when the 5 hour mark had come and gone. "We should have heard something by now"...."do you think we should ask someone"...."surely they have to be done by now".<br />
<br />
My response was a smile and a deep breath reassuring her that her expectant looks and questions were heard but they would have to remain unanswered. There are so many questions I can't answer for her, so I look around for someone to notice my stare. Not a single sign of recognition. I could only sit with the unanswered questions for so long.<br />
<br />
I got up to stretch my legs. Took a walk down the hall. I noticed I swing my arms a lot when I walk and maybe I have gained a couple pounds because my ankles felt heavy. Should I be thinking about more serious things? Should I be praying? Why wasn't I praying? I started to worry - it was hour number 7.<br />
<br />
I couldn't help but think everyone walking around today looked too normal. Didn't they know <i>my </i>Dad was going in for a major operation? Shouldn't they have perceived that today was a hard day on <i>me</i>? I am in a hospital, afterall. This was not a normal day for me. Shouldn't their looks and gentle smiles be more sympathetic? Someone get me flowers, buy my coffee. Nothing.<br />
<br />
I started to think perhaps this is how I walk around the streets of Philadelphia everyday. Head directed inward to my own thoughts, not thinking about how the woman walking towards me is feeling. And to be honest, most of the time I don't care. Because I am busy. And I probably can't help. And because she wouldn't care enough to tell me or talk to me about her private issue. No one talks anymore.<br />
<br />
The looks of expectation and worry in a hospital room are so much more obvious in their context. Would I notice them if I were walking around Rittenhouse Square on a beautiful mid 70's Sunday afternoon while drinking my delicious iced vanilla chai? Maybe somewhere along the line I stopped looking around.<br />
<br />
I sit back down. My mother looks at me and smiles, she rubs my arm and asks how my walk was. I nod, "fine". When in reality, my level of anxiety about life and death and all of the heartbreak that happens in between has been heightened from a 4 to a 28 in the matter of ten minutes. Silence. I hear foot steps behind me. I spin my head more dramatically than I would have liked and startle my Mom. A doctor. My breath stops as if it's a reflex to seeing a man in a white coat.<br />
<br />
"Everything's fine...he's going to be fine"......<br />
<br />
</div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-20012091105429328392012-03-18T22:41:00.001-07:002012-03-18T22:42:43.000-07:00Run.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It's 1:21 am and I should be asleep. But my head spins as I think of the days ahead of me. Decisions, plans, fun.<br />
<br />
Pandora is on. "good to sea you" by pinback is playing. The words..................<br />
it's good to see you,<br />
its good to see you go.<br />
<br />
<div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">are playing on repeat.</span><br />
<br />
it's good to see you,<br />
its good to see you go.<br />
<br />
Followed by Foster the people, words repeat</div><div>run, better run....</div><div><br />
</div><div>I can't help but think its a sign.</div><div><br />
</div><div>********</div><div>Tonight I finished Season 2 of the Walking Dead. Its a zombie show, and before your head spins with judgement and your mouth spurts words of disgust in my general direction, albeit under your breathe. Hear me out. </div><div><br />
</div><div>On Christmas Eve this past year, my three siblings made me, forced me to watch The Walking Dead, Season 1, Episode 1. I was horrified. And vowed never to watch another episode, but before the end of the night I was on to Episode 3 and then 4. I was hooked, and so were they. They watch this show almost religiously as week after week humans are being eaten and the world seems to be coming closer to an end with every hour that I watch. But I was hooked. Every episode I watch with tense shoulders and a blanket covering my mouth as if to save me from zombie attack out of my television screen. I scream out loud and I cover my eyes. I yell at the characters and my roommates ask my why I continue to watch. But I'm hooked. I cant stop watching. I have recently roped in my roommate and her boyfriend so at least I don't have to watch alone. This helps me feel like the zombies can't get me. </div><div><br />
</div><div>My siblings and I are very different. Very. Different. But for some reason, we all watch this show about the end of the world. It makes me feel connected to them in some small, strange way. I text them after the show and talk about what happened and see if they know what will happen next. In the midst of feeling like I need to run to escape the impending doom of the end of the world, I watch to feel connected to my family all spread out along the East Coast, the opposite of running. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Most of the time, running feels good in the moment. But sometimes running doesn't feel good, and even when it feels necessary it doesn't make it the best decision. Sometimes you have to stay and watch the story unfold to feel the most connected. And I feel like that's what we were made for - connections, relationships, staying. </div></div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-32513939119812709732012-03-01T19:07:00.000-08:002012-03-01T19:07:51.057-08:00I tried to be vegetarian<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This past weekend, I watched <i>Forks over Knives </i>a riveting documentary about health and Americans. Needless to say, I have been scared meatless. Or so I thought...<div><br />
</div><div>I have always been one to respect others views, but no meat? That is just un-Amur-a-kin. Until I saw this movie and my views began to shift. With the recent severe health problems and surgeries my father has been facing, and watching all of our patients come in day and and day out with laundry lists of medications and the inability to walk without assistance at age 45....one has to stop and think about what we are doing to our bodies. The movie promoted a vegan, "all plant" diet. But like <a href="http://www.ataleoftwins.com/2012/02/29/403/">Nicole</a> I could not think about giving up meat AND dairy at the same time (only she actually did). I am not as strong as she is, so I thought I would start with forfeiting meat from my diet and being aware of the amount of dairy that enters my mouth on a daily basis. I am very aware now, that I am really good at having an all meat and dairy diet.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I tried to forego meat, I tried so hard. But today, one of the patients brought in wings from reading terminal and they are just-sooo-good and I was just SO hungry and thought, "well, one won't hurt anything right?" And then, without thinking, I ordered potato soup for lunch....complete with bacon.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I am trying and I am failing, but I will try again. I <i>will </i>be healthy, even if it kills me.</div></div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-55562655243246944552012-02-29T18:55:00.001-08:002012-02-29T18:56:56.301-08:00thanks for today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Some days I feel like I have lived my life in a perpetually bad mood. Arms crossed. Eyes gazed towards nothing on the ceiling. Bangs blown upward by the audible exhale of my sigh. All of these things are going on in my head as I go through my day, whether or not they physically manifest themselves is another thing. Like all human beings, I feel beat down by the world, realizing my cynicism makes me all the more cynical - all internal of course. I can get caught up in the little things.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>But then something happens. Something bad, really bad happens. Not "someone stole my pen" bad... but something like </div><div>"my dad had major surgery" bad or </div><div>"my grandfather passed away" bad or </div><div>"i cant make ends meet" bad or </div><div>"i lost my baby" bad or</div><div>"i lost my faith and myself with it" bad</div><div>Bad, bad. </div><div><br />
</div><div>These things spiral my thoughts into reality. I am able to watch my community band around those hurting, those in need and those who are lost. I have watched as people pray, they reach out and they believe that everything will be okay because we are loved by God and because He sent us each other. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I realize I exaggerate everything and I'm not always in a bad mood. But I have realized that I do tend to focus on the smaller mishaps of life until something spins my head - something like prayer tonight. Tonight I listened as people prayed after arts and crafts, there were 6 leaders, 3 elementary school kids and 1 high schooler. We sat in a circle and praised the Lord for his blessings, prayed for his provision in the ministry and asked for grace and guidance for future weeks. But then the young woman in high school said:</div><div>Dear God,</div><div>Thanks for giving us today.</div><div>Amen</div><div><br />
</div><div>so simple. so easy to miss. today, tomorrow and the day after are not promised. thank god for today.</div></div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-18658739964055685822012-02-14T21:21:00.000-08:002012-02-14T21:21:23.434-08:00a mindless post for a heavy week....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am burdened. This is an understatement. So instead of ranting before properly processing how I am feeling this week, I am going to post my favorite cooking secret that I have ever learned and that came in oh-so-handy last week while making a peanut butter mousse pie...<br />
<br />
My roommate Emily is from Michigan...Holland Michigan to be exact. She really likes to bake and she is dutch - just like everyone in Holland Michigan...even adopted children from other countries are considered Dutch (i.e. Nicole - Asian, but Dutch).<br />
<br />
Before moving out of Delaware I knew about zero people from the great state of Michigan....or maybe I had encountered one or two and I skipped over them not thinking much of it. When I moved to Colorado, I met 3 Michiganders and thought that was crazy. Then I moved to Philly and it seems like just about everyone I meet is from Michigan. As amazing as that hand-shaped state is, you all seem to be moving pretty far from it by moving here though.. (just a thought).<br />
<br />
Anyway, my Michigander roommate taught me the best baking trick ever. Have you ever tried baking with peanut butter? The recipe may call for 1 cup peanut butter, but by the time you have scraped all the PB into the 1 cup and then scraped all the PB out of said measuring cup into the mixing bowl you are likely to be missing at least 1/4 due to PB sticking on the side of cups and on spatulas and in my hair....Well Michigan has brought us all the answer by way of Emily. If you need 1/2 peanut butter, fill a measuring cup up to 1/2 with water and then add the peanut butter until the water reaches 1 cup, drain water and MAGIC! You are left with 1/2 cup peanut butter and no PB stuck to the side. To demonstrate I took pictures of my baking experience last week.....please see below and be amazed. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jg98rC_grUI/Tzs_nG832HI/AAAAAAAAA4A/iCyUAUMAvO4/s1600/n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jg98rC_grUI/Tzs_nG832HI/AAAAAAAAA4A/iCyUAUMAvO4/s400/n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">measuring out 1 cup peanut butter (1 cup water, 1 cup PB)</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2eeIN1q5GXI/Tzs_qaNTowI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ZpKPTfVNUq8/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2eeIN1q5GXI/Tzs_qaNTowI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ZpKPTfVNUq8/s400/download.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">drained water, pb in mixing bowl and measuring cup almost all clean! I didn't even use a spatula</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gcexBs7OJHE/Tzs_qHGZK0I/AAAAAAAAA4I/0lAUyn7UCfA/s1600/download+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gcexBs7OJHE/Tzs_qHGZK0I/AAAAAAAAA4I/0lAUyn7UCfA/s320/download+%25281%2529.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">finished product, it was wonderful.</div><br />
</div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-53675071624716495582012-02-10T13:20:00.000-08:002012-02-11T20:00:22.059-08:00thoughts on crying, strangers and ethiopia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Before 2008 when I moved to Philadelphia, I never cried. Never. I mean it. I could count the number of times I cried in high school on one hand. Okay let me rephrase that, I could count the number of times another human being saw me cry on one hand. But I moved to Denver, and I grew up in many ways, both big and small. Then I moved back East, thinking I left the West behind. But unbeknownst to me, the west must have gotten into my soul in a way that unleashed the waterworks of my eyeballs. I started to cry in 2008 and I just don't think I ever stopped.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>I have a tendency to cry at the most inopportune moments - like on the bus where it is quiet and full of strangers, in front of boys who become paralyzed with fear and anxiety when they see the welling up of a girls eyes, while wearing make-up, and at work. </div><div><br />
</div><div>There is something exposing about crying, because at least when I cry I know it is not pretty and I tend to say things I don't mean. Picture this...my mouth turns downward and the cheeks wrinkle towards my ears, tears stream and the make up runs with it, my voice starts to get really high-pitched and then all my words start to run together to form one-giant-run-on-sentence. I see the look on people faces, the look of utter concern and utter shock that my face could distort in that way. In order to break the tension and awkwardness of the situation, I begin to talk and say exactly whats on my mind, throwing "appropriate conversation etiquette" right out the window.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Over the years, I have realized that I tend to exaggerate things...including the way I describe my levels of crying. This past summer, I was talking to a friend and I while I was recounting a story I used the phrase "I started to sob" (using hand motions and all). He stopped, looked at me and said "Sob? Like really sob? Or were you just welling? Were there even tears? I think you need to work on your vocabulary". Ever since this conversation I have categorized my tears into: welling, tearing, crying, and sobbing. This has really improved my story-telling skills, of which I need little improvement but I guess we can all work on life skills. </div><div><br />
</div><div>On thursday this week, I was at work and having a pretty rough day. There were several moments that I checked my phone waiting for my Mom to call and give me an update on my father's doctors appointment and status of his surgery. My heart would race every time my phone blinked, beeped or someone called. All day - I welled. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I went into exam room 5 at one point in the afternoon and was so deep in thought that I didn't notice who the 2 people in the room were. I set up the computer and was in the middle of wiping down the slit lamp, when the husband looks at me, smiles, and says "hello" in a tone of recognition and familiarity that caught me off guard. I looked at him and was equally caught off guard by who it was, a patient who was from Ethiopia. He and his wife came here to have a surgery done. We met about 3-4 months ago and I talked to them at length about their work - missionaries in their home country. </div><div><br />
</div><div>The husband looked at me and spoke in a manner that I couldn't help but think of Rafiki from the Lion King. He smiled and asked if I had given any more thought to the mission field and I simply replied I have, I'm in it. </div><div><br />
</div><div>We spoke even more briefly about my father and the wife felt urgency to pray, and so, because I am obliging to patients, we prayed. She shut the door, I closed my eyes and she began. As she spoke, welling happened, and then tears and then sobs. The beauty of prayer from someone who feels the spirit and knows Him intimately is one that leaves an impression on the heart. They spoke with the peace, knowledge and wisdom of knowing that a great and powerful God is in control. I listened and surrendered to the fact that I am not. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Sometimes when I am at work, my patients give me hugs before I leave. On Thursday, a day I was upset and discouraged, and on edge I received far more hugs than normal and prayer from a fellow life missionary. God is present, but sometimes I like to think all of my life happenings are coincidental or that I had some say in the way my day panned out. Sometimes I think I have to give name to what is really happening - God is happening all over the place. </div></div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-48527984668939596092012-01-25T18:13:00.000-08:002012-02-05T13:40:51.306-08:00leave<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">About 5 years ago, I left home. I packed my things, moved to Colorado and I started this blog. I'm really thankful for this blog because I can look back on my time in the 'rado and remember how I felt when I was away from "all-things-comfortable". So that when I start thinking about going back to "all-things-uncomfortable" I can either get really terrified or really excited (depending on the day, hour or minute). I was looking back on a post from 2007 when I first moved out west, and I quoted Donald Miller because it was relevant to my life (having just left home)....as I re read it tonight, it feels relevant again, like I was supposed to read it again on this night, with this mood, and this mindset.....it feels alive to me again but in a very different way. Here is the quote I am referring to:<br />
"It is interesting how you sometimes have to leave home before you can ask difficult questions, how the questions never come up in the bedroom you grew up in, in the town in which you were born. It’s funny how you can’t ask difficult questions in a familiar place, how you have to stand back a few feet and see things in a new way before you realize nothing that is happening to you is normal<br />
The trouble with you and me is we are used to what is happening to us...........<br />
<br />
<br />
We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn’t it?<br />
It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.<br />
I want to repeat one word for you.<br />
<br />
Leave.<br />
<br />
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn’t it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don’t worry. Everything will be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed."<br />
<br />
~Through Painted Deserts, Donald Miller<br />
<br />
It makes my heart leap and sink when I think about leaving Philadelphia. To think about what I have done, and all I have accomplished; the friends I have made from then until now. But that yearning to leave is still there...on the tip of my tongue, tugging on my heart strings, hanging on every thought. I wonder if it's because I am naturally a wanderer. If I will ever be satisfied. Sometimes I think the word "stay" is a harder concept for me to grasp when so many others love it and just roll around in it until their hands get all pruny. <br />
<br />
I have stayed in Philadelphia for 3.5 years now. I have tried out "staying" and I think it fits me. But, ironically enough, the feeling of "leave" never quite exits my mind and heart. For now I am here and I am content because like most Christians the point is to be content where you are, right? Find fulfillment in Christ and the rest will follow suit. I just always questions why then, am I always leaving...</div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-49213571272559865702011-08-01T15:30:00.000-07:002011-08-01T15:31:08.073-07:00blue to the berry<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On Saturday I was in Binghamton with my Annie Bannanie. We went blueberry picking for the first time ever!! It was SO wonderful to just stop and slow down long enough to eat blueberries and raspberries (even though we weren't supposed to) right off the branches! Life the way its meant to be lived!<br />
<br />
I had only one problem afterward....I had SO MANY blueberries! I got back to Philly and thought to myself...I always complain I can't cook/bake, so I went at it. Here is what happened when i had a lot of blueberries, a little bit of motivation and an empty house.....enjoy :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lbtp3qKZwlg/Tjco7_O4IdI/AAAAAAAAA2o/Qiw_gSW0EGc/s1600/annie+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lbtp3qKZwlg/Tjco7_O4IdI/AAAAAAAAA2o/Qiw_gSW0EGc/s400/annie+002.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b-BgZE-IBGE/Tjco1TTPnVI/AAAAAAAAA2c/oYMc0_bwBgA/s1600/IMAG0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b-BgZE-IBGE/Tjco1TTPnVI/AAAAAAAAA2c/oYMc0_bwBgA/s400/IMAG0028.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3jsQiFUvDCo/Tjco2VhvVzI/AAAAAAAAA2g/xJXUsqz_03k/s1600/IMAG0031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3jsQiFUvDCo/Tjco2VhvVzI/AAAAAAAAA2g/xJXUsqz_03k/s400/IMAG0031.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6WOxmhoGO4/Tjco3PDrd0I/AAAAAAAAA2k/WY5asSPWmOk/s1600/IMAG0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6WOxmhoGO4/Tjco3PDrd0I/AAAAAAAAA2k/WY5asSPWmOk/s400/IMAG0033.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
</div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-62761553422423802282011-06-30T10:38:00.000-07:002011-06-30T10:38:45.084-07:00music for my soul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The Weepies have a special place in my heart. They are and will always be my go-to music. Whenever I listen to old albums I start to reminisce about college. Road trips, lazy study days, cooking in the kicthen, cleaning our entire house and bonding moments with my best friend Hales. Recently we got to go to see the Weepies in concert at World Cafe Live. We are both out of college, working full time jobs in a new city very different from Newark, and she brought her husband along. Standing one row from the stage next to all the girls making out (it was very strange) I couldn't help but think how much has changed in our lives but how much Deb and Steve still connect us and make us happy. <br />
<br />
So now I turn on their new music and although its new, their voices bring a sort of familiarity that makes me so happy. So I sit at work and I listen to the Weepies and just smile, sing more loudly than appropriate in a work type setting and find myself in another world. It just makes me so happy. <br />
<br />
Today I listened to "Slow Pony Home" on repeat....but some of my other favorites include All This Beauty, Be My Thrill and Simple Life.<br />
<br />
If you like to know my heart and soul...listen to those songs. I know that is a scary invitation, but it will be worth it, I promise. </div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-17038755137154243392011-06-14T05:42:00.000-07:002011-06-14T05:42:05.698-07:00Happy Flag Day!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wR4Te9-zTts/TfdXFxHVGHI/AAAAAAAAA1g/rvvh5THSk4E/s1600/animflag.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wR4Te9-zTts/TfdXFxHVGHI/AAAAAAAAA1g/rvvh5THSk4E/s1600/animflag.gif" t8="true" /></a></div></div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010615838854086052.post-62733308951486164042011-06-09T09:06:00.000-07:002011-06-14T05:42:30.381-07:00heat wave....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today is my "late day" at work. Which means I arrive at 10:30 and leave at 7:00pm. I am used to riding my bike to work around 7:45am which is nice because the heat hasn't had time to become oppressive. <br />
<br />
Today I rode my bike around 10:15am and I wanted to die. I will never complain about being cold again. I actually really enjoy the cold weather, and unless its bone chilling, hypothermia cant get warm cold and I have on a bathing suit...I probably won't complain about it. I will simply grab a blanket. The heat makes me want to run around naked. Which apparently is "inappropriate". I got to work and naturally, the first thing I did was look at record temp highs for Philadelphia. And what do ya know...this is what I discovered.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VFuCHwSQr1U/TfDu7E84WmI/AAAAAAAAA1c/zQ5iRx1B6yc/s1600/060911-r.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VFuCHwSQr1U/TfDu7E84WmI/AAAAAAAAA1c/zQ5iRx1B6yc/s400/060911-r.gif" t8="true" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The best part about this is that Philly is supposed to reach 99 degrees today....breaking the record high from 1933. Congratulations Philly, my deodorant stopped working 15 degrees ago and I look like I just stepped out of the pool. I sure look attractive and my smell is out of this world. </div>carolynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08742520589293186196noreply@blogger.com0