This dusty barren land had given all it could yield...

It was recently pointed out to me *cough*LeAnn*cough* that I haven't blogged in a while. I knew this was true, and I had been meaning too, honestly. My new job has left me exhausted once 3:30 hits, and I've fallen into my old napping pattern... But I keep hoping that my body will adjust to the schedule and that I'll be able to get to bed a little earlier so I can stop napping in the afternoons.

Over the last few months I've noticed that I thrive on hope. I'm sure that most of you already knew this, and it was probably something I knew for a long time but hadn't yet come to realize the entirety of its scope.

This morning it really struck me how deeply this hope runs.
I've been hoping for rain--desperately.
I've been hoping that my cousin would recover from her botched surgery well.
I've been hoping that my other cousin would pull herself together and just be okay.
I've been hoping that this "maybe someday it'll work out" would just work out.
I've been hoping that our little first grader with behavior issues would get the attention she deserves at home so she can grow into the creative girl I see lurking behind the tangled hair and eyes that haven't learned to read yet.
I've been hoping that the writing bug would just take hold of me again and never let me go.
I've been hoping.
Hoping.
Hoping.

I even surround myself with literature that emphasizes the idea of hope and I wrap it around me like a warm security blanket. And I even hope that someday my life would echo those virtues that fictional characters so easily embody: strength, loyalty, nobility, honor, courage and faith.

So it's no surprise when I see small glimmers of these things in real life that I get excited and want to capture the moments. 

I have all of this hope, all of this want, but I'm still content.

Even if the rain comes just as harvest season is about to begin, at least there is moisture.
Even if my cousin had 20 units of blood transfused and got E. coli in a hospital, at least she is alive.
Even if my cousin moved back to the wretched situation that keeps throwing her to the wolves, at least she is talking to me about it and being open about the hardships.
Even if "maybe someday" isn't today, at least I have letter writing to pass the time.
Even if our little first grader was in the office again because of a tantrum, at least she is reaching out and she hugged me later and didn't want me to leave her.
Even if I'm not writing as much as I want, at least I know the story is still alive in me and it's just setting its roots a little deeper.

"Oh, Dear I never saw you coming. Oh my, look what you have done. You're my favorite song, always on the tip of my tongue." [Civil Wars, Tip of my Tongue]

You're the peace to the restless

It's been a big couple weeks in the heart of this Nebraska-girl.

Last Tuesday there was a phone call with a certain young man that lasted over 50 minutes. This  soothed the fraying edges of my hopelessly romantic heart. His general concern for my well-being is comforting. Just yesterday I received a letter from said young man. These pieces of life that we keep sharing...I can't help but wonder at the greater picture. And still I pray that God's Hand sew the pieces into place without my own hand trying to force the pattern.

I also baked and delivered a cake that a new relative had ordered for her birthday. Baking is good for the hands that are itching to do. My hands have been so idle with unemployment that they were thankful for the fun task. Baking is also good for the inner homemaker in me that doesn't have a lot of opportunity to shine just yet.

This Tuesday I had an interview with one of the local elementary schools at 8 am. It had been so long since I turned in an application to the district that I had mostly forgotten about it, and had certainly thought it was a dead end. The interview went very well and I was expecting an answer sometime in the next couple days. Two hours later, I got a phone call from the administration building offering me the paraeducator position. All I could think to say was, "Wow, that was fast," to which the lady on the other end confirmed. With a thankful heart, I accepted the position and am excited to begin working with kids that are struggling with reading and math and other areas. This rejection-sick heart is glad to be accepting an offering, a calling.

When I look back at my past experience I see that God was whispering all along, Just wait, I've been preparing you for something specific. You have to trust Me to show you what you're supposed to be doing. Trust Me. And that trust was incredibly hard, but worth the wait. I've been a  Writing Center tutor, I've been an administrative assistant, I've been a teacher's aid, I've been a person who struggled with reading at a young age. All of these things, and so many more, have been shaping me for this moment. God is good.

Wednesday I was able to spend some time with a few of the ladies in the family. We went to get pedicures, something I've never done before. It soothed the worry-weary heart by healing the dry-heat abused feet. There's something to be said for healthy feet--the washing and care-giving is Biblical, after all.

I fell asleep to thunder and lightning Wednesday night, and I slept easy knowing the thirsty ground was getting some much needed moisture. And this morning I was woken by thunder and lightning at 6 am, an hour before my alarm would go off, and I didn't mind at all.

My heart is abundantly thankful for the answers to so many prayers, for my heart was as thirsty as the land, and God is pouring out the rain and grace that we so desperately need. Let it rain.

"For greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this City." [Chris Tomlin, God of This City]

I could never save myself...

There's an itch inside me. (I mean this both literally and figuratively.)

Many (if not all) of you know that I was badly sunburned a few weeks ago. Well, it's mostly "faded" now, and the pealing is mostly all gone.... but the itching. The itching will not go away. I'm lucky I have any skin left with how itchy I've been. People will comment on my sunburn (still) and I don't know if it's actually residual red from the burn or from my constant scratching. Maybe both.

Just as the itch on my skin is irritating, so is the itch in my soul. The difference is that I have not been able to scratch away the discomfort therein. Instead, it goes on bothering, becoming more incessant and more irksome everyday. Everyday, another part itches.

I would like to say that the answer to this itchiness would be to write....and I do believe it would help. As I told a dear friend in a note the other day: I have not had time to write, and therefore have not been writing everyday. Perhaps the stagnant waters of my soul started here. I was not moving the waters, becoming still in the routine of the day-to-day. Even now, I think to myself that I should be reading for a class instead of engaging in this potentially cathartic activity.

There are other things.

How do you swallow the words of nights past? Take it all back, let things play out the way they were meant to. Why did you ever open your mouth to begin with? I lack the grace to take these things in stride.

How do you console a friend that has just told you her dad in terminal? That he cannot speak to her the way he used to? She tells you not to cry for her, but these tears have been pushing for days, and this is just the news that wants to send them over the brink. You can spend all the time in the world working on homework for your Death, Dying, and Trauma class, but when those hard questions come up you just may not have the answers. I don't know if my arms are brave enough to help you carry this. 

How do you carry a friend's secret? Carry it wrapped up in your heart, tucked away. Let everything that is negative bounce off your shield, leaving dings and scratches. I don't know if I'm strong to hold up forever.

A friend once told me I had strong arms. Arms that could help one bear their burdens with a simply hug. All I want is for someone with strong arms to hold me. Tonight I couldn't stand the silence of my dorm room, so I slept. I went to work. I got back to the dorm, knowing I would be alone again. So, I decided to go for a drive, thinking it would make my heart feel less heavy in my chest.

I was in a wedding this last weekend. My friend now has a strong set of arms that will hold her through all things--in their vows he mentioned that he would be her shield. It gave me chills.

Now, I sit here, thinking of all the things I need to do, just wishing, praying, for some strong arms. For someone to be my shield. Because in that car ride I realized that when I am in need is when I give the most. I asked the Walmart lady if she was having a better night...only to get a long explanation about how it was worse than the other day. And even though I felt like my heart would burst, I gave her a smile anyway and told her that I hoped things would start looking up soon. I need someone to protect me for this emotional fatigue.

I am so itchy. And I just want it to go away.

"Hold fast, help is on the way." [Casting Crowns]

Like butter scraped over too much bread...

What am I doing tonight?

On the floor, on my stomach, typing away at Morning Star -- there's an engagement! I'm excited that such an emotional scene last night could evolve into something so expected, but not at that moment. It's all about timing. I'm sipping coffee, writing, and yes, half watching Magnum PI.

And you know what? I have a headache. Normally I'm pretty decent at multitasking, but I'm not tonight. My brain isn't keeping up with what I want to be doing. Part of that is from lack of sleep--I was up rather late last night, writing. The night is still young though, and so I'm looking for ways to keep myself awake. (Hence the decaf coffee. I know, it's decaf, but it's hot.)

I started a new workout program this week, and I'm really excited about it. But it's way more intense than what I had been doing, and so I'm a little sore in the shoulders. And I've been having chronic stomach pain every evening. (Just a general ickyness.)

Then there's the upcoming GRE. That's got me more than just a little stressed out. Last night, a friend reminded me that not all colleges care about this test. In fact, the school I'm most interested in said that it wasn't a requirement, but what recommended. Why am I taking it then? Hopefully I'll do well on it. I need to study. I mean, I really need to buckle down and study. There are so many other things that occupy my mind though... I know that while I'm testing I'll start thinking about Elves and Fantasy worlds... but I should study anyway, and put forth a strong effort.

I also didn't get a letter in the mail on time today. And that upsets me. When did I start slacking with putting letters in the mailbox? That's not even the worst of it, I have letters backed up waiting for responses from the end of June. I should do that. I really should, and I know I should. So why haven't I?

There are pictures that need to be taken. I need to get my Etsy account all squared away with product pictures. Maybe my cousin will be a bag model for me...I'll have to call her sometime soon.

And now I am indescribably thankful that I did not get a job this summer.

Nerd factor of the night: I'm drinking coffee from a Lord of the Rings mug...that I designed. It's pretty sweet, not going to lie.

"You don't even have to talk about what you're talking about. If you know what I mean." [Magnum PI]

Home sweet home...

Some things that I learned while house sitting:

1. Light bulbs burn out at the most unlikely time. Don't let it throw you off, even if they are unusual sizes.

2. Eventually, toilet bowl seats break. It has nothing to do with you--it just happens. And if you freak out enough and have enough nightmares you're bound to find out that the owner of said toilet broke her gramma's a week earlier. You'll feel better.

3. Cats are strange creatures. They're adorable, but they're strange. Don't let their cute appearance fool you--they play dirty. I've never had so many scratches.

4. Neighbor ladies and lovely, make a point to meet them before the last day of house sitting.

5. If you live in the country and house sit in town over the Fourth of July, don't be alarmed if it sounds like a war just erupted on the front lawn--it's apparently very normal.

6. If a cat is hungry enough in the morning and you're still sleeping he will lick and bite your elbow. And then you're arm. And he'll try to get to your face, but if you're lucky his whiskers will wake you up.

7. Some cats like helping you make the bed.

8. Some cats can open doors--beware.

9. You may think your barky dog is annoying, but you'll miss his cuddling.

10. People in town mow their lawn in columns, they don't go around in circles like you do on a four acre lot. Don't be scared of breaking your pattern.

11. People will come and pray over your house when you're not there, and they'll leave you a little flier telling you that they're praying. It's a nice gesture, but also kind of creepy.

12. The guy that checks the meter will knock on your door at an ungodly hour. He's just doing his job, be nice and try not to look like the living dead.

13. The garbage guy makes a lot of noise, and actually picks up early in the morning--it's not just a myth!

14. It's nice managing your own home. The day-to-day chores are actually enjoyable if you turn the music on loud enough. It's also easier with just one person to care for.

15. Don't forget about the plant. You will kill it in three weeks. You will turn out to be your mother's daughter. You will regret this gene.

16. Thunderstorms are scarier when you only have the cats and no weather alarms (no matter how much you loath that weather alarm, you do feel saver with it).

17. Reading seems to be more difficult to focus on while staying in another person's house...mostly because you can't figure out how to make the tea because you don't know where anything is.

18. Falling asleep on the couch with TVLand playing is incredibly easy. And waking up to "The Nanny" can be jarring.

19. It's harder living in two places in one town than two places across the state from one another.

20. Sing in the shower as loud as you want. There is no one for you to disturb.

"This is home, now I'm finally where I belong."

If a double decker bus crashes into us...

Yesterday was a day of firsts. And it is here that I want to immortalize them.

1. The Wedding

No, no, I didn't get married. My brother was hired to do the videography of a wedding at our church. He needed an assistant, and I was happy to oblige. I love weddings! Drinks all around! (And by "drinks" I mean punch of the nonalcoholic variety.) It was a good experience, if not a little strange. (We didn't know the bride, and only recognized the groom as someone I thought was already married.) The bride asked me, "So, are you teaching him?" HA! No...I'm the assistant. I'm just doing what he tells me to do. Although, I have been to a lot more weddings than he has, so it was good that I was there and knew what to expect for certain things.

2. Buying an R-rated Movie

That's right, I bought my first R-rated movie. But it wasn't for me, it was for my dad. It was a western that we had watched in a hotel room while we were on vacation a few years ago: "Open Range." It was good, and we couldn't believe that it was rated R. Walmart had it for a good deal. So, it was my first time getting carded for something other than glue at a craft store. The cashier lady wasn't going to check my ID, and then she looked at me and said, "Yeah, you look young. I'll need to see your ID. ... How old are you anyway?" 20 "Oh, sorry."

3. The Car Accident

After we went to Walmart, Josef and I went to our cousin's house to celebrate her parents' 30th wedding anniversary. It was great to sit and visit with family. We didn't leave until around 10 pm. It's a strange thing, really.

Driving along, going the speed limit (I was actively fighting my lead-foot condition), leaving the radio off to sing a cappella with my little brother, and then seeing a turn signal from my right on a one-way street. My spot in the left lane was suddenly threatened. I think I said aloud, "What are they doing? Oh, crap!" And my feet were doing their own thing, and my hands yanked the wheel left, into the parking spaces. Still, there was the impact, did I blink?

I stopped the car, turned the blinkers on--why did I think of that and not the horn when it could have really mattered? I've never been closer to swearing in my entire life, and I admit that I said the Lord's name in vain, "Oh my God, what just happened?" I could say it was a prayer, but that would be a lie.

I knew Dad was behind me in the truck, did he see what happened? Would he stop? When I opened my car door, and Josef got out of his side--the side of impact--my only thought was of my dad. I didn't walk around the car to assess the damage, maybe I didn't want to see. I didn't ask Josef if he was okay, the only think I told him was to stay by the car. (He was obviously okay; walking and talking, just as shaken as me.)

Then I was walking down the middle of the road, yelling for my dad, "Daddy! He just freakin' hit me!" Really, I was screaming, unbelieving of what just happened, needing to know it was okay. Thank God I was still wearing heals, they slowed me down, and before I could continue yelling I realized what I was doing and shut my mouth, letting the screams die in my throat and prevent further damage.

I'm not sure how, but it didn't take me long to catch up to him, and I was holding his hand, walking towards the other car; the car that I thought was going to drive away. (No fear, their bumper and license plate was in the middle of the intersection.) But they didn't. I saw the woman get out of the car, and Mom was on 911. The passenger of the other vehicle started running after we all confirmed we were unhurt. Mom told the dispatcher, they were ready to chase him down, but he was just going to get her boyfriend, whom she was going to see.

All the while, I wanted to yell at her and ask her what she was thinking; turning left from the right lane on a one way. But I didn't. I was shaking--a result of one of the biggest adrenaline rushes I have ever had. Mom asked me if I was okay once she was done on the phone. I wasn't as upset as much as I was angry. And I wanted to cry, felt like I should cry, but I didn't. She was the one to go back and confirm that Josef was okay. I was the last person to look at the damage. I saw the bumper in the road of the other vehicle, and I didn't want to face what I was sure to be a disaster.

Thankfully: Nobody was hurt except her car and Jimmy (our car). The lady was insured. She confirmed what Josef told the cop. The cop called the towing company. God gave me enough grace to shut my mouth and just be quiet after that initial outburst. Mom and Dad were driving behind us. My Daddy has strong hands, able to hold his little girl's while I faced one of the worst "firsts" of the year.

It was almost midnight by the time we got home. But sleep wouldn't find me for several hours.

"To die by your side, what a heavenly way to die." [Cover by Anberlin]

If my eyes, wide open, fail to see...

April 3rd. Well, today marks the beginning of the next decade of my life. It feels like the last one took forever. Being a teen is hard work, you know?

It's funny, we all have our birthdays in a months time. Josef is first. Then Dad, who is now 51, and apparently feeling quite old. And Mom and I today... Mom's only a year from 50. And I'm 20.

Before my parents went to be tonight, Dad came out to where I was working on some homework. He wanted to know if I would turn off the lights when I went to bed. He was massaging my shoulders and then told me that I had already received a lot of birthday wishes on Facebook. I looked up at him and said, "I'm not a teenager anymore, Daddy."

"I know, you're getting old!"

Can we be old together? I have all the creaky joints, and I'm reading a book about grammar, for goodness sake. I get grumpy when I see girls in my brother's class wearing short skirts on stage. (Really? Didn't anyone teach you about costuming? And if you're whiter than I am...well...keep your legs covered, girl.) I hate people who text during theatre performances.....yeah.


It hit me today, that I have already known my daddy longer than he knew his dad. And that is a disturbing thought for me. I was sitting at a music rally...and I almost started to cry. And then my mom called. Twice. I thought for sure Dad had had a heart attack and she needed help. How horrible is it that my first thought after getting two calls was that my dad was in serious danger? Turns out she just wanted to know if I wanted to go get food with them.

It's funny, growing up you feel like your parents are invincible. Nothing could ever tear them down, they are the rocks on which you build your life until you're sturdy enough to stand on your own and be someone else's rock. This year has shattered that illusion for me. My mom is having some of the worst medical issues she has ever had to face...and Dad is just tired. More tired than I ever remember seeing him. I don't remember him being this tired when he would only sleep a couple hours a night because he would stay up making whistles.

When Mom told me good night, I told her, "Now you can be old, too!" And I meant that I was old...but she definitely thought I meant that she and Dad were old.

And they are, I guess. But I'm getting "old" too. A fifth of a century... just four more to go.

So, here's to more creaky joints. (Seriously, you should hear me climb stairs if you haven't already.)

"And your thoughts all break my heart, because there's a chapter left to write. ... Won't you run, fly, open up your lungs tonight. Breathe freedom for the first time in your life. ... He's not through with you yet." [Building 429]

Dark have been my dreams of late...

What happens when you have influenza? You sleep a lot.
What happens when you have a fever? You have feverish dreams. Yes. That's where I've been.

Well, this is me wanting to share the dream I had Friday night. It might require a little backstory.

Backstory: I have a "friend" named Mike. Now, I say "friend" because I'm not entirely sure what we are. We sat next to each other in Modern Poetry last semester... and we talked in class. He didn't live on campus though, so I never saw him at meals or outside of class. I wish I had. At the end of last semester he kind of disappeared... I haven't seen him since probably the first week in December. Yeah. I've been a little worried, but I don't have any way to getting a hold of him. Mike is an agnostic/atheist. I never even tried to talk to him about my faith. Yeah. So after Dare 2 Share I was feeling pretty lame about that, and started praying that I would at least get a chance to talk to him again. We'll see if that ever happens. I hope it does.

Okay. I think that's enough backstory. If I think of anything else I'll put it in parentheses. On to the dream.

Dream: My family and I were in Iowa visiting my mom's family. Only, this wasn't the small town in Iowa that I was familiar with, it was most of a suburb. And there was snow. Lots of it. Actually, it kind of reminds me of a suburb in Omaha. Anyways...

We got to this house where my Grandparents were with my cousin and her family (all four kiddos). It was kind of disturbing because Lily, the second oldest who's four, had really short baby-fuzz hair. (In real life she has super long and beautiful blonde hair.) I never did find out what the deal was with that. The newest edition, Jordyn, sure was a beautiful baby though. It made me really want to see her.

Before we even had a chance to get all of our stuff into the house my grandpa announced that he invited Mike to join us at the bowling alley. And almost immediately, Mike walked through the door. (I had once told a friend that if I ever saw him again I may just become overcome by whatever girly emotion I was feeling and just hug him because he was okay.) I didn't jump him right away. At first, I felt incredibly awkward and I was trying to get stuff all squared away. So he was standing in the hallway talking to my family.

Eventually, I did return to the hall and get that hug... which was weird. Because we did this thing where we were still hugging but walking down the hallway to the kitchen, kind of like dancing. My dad was following us, so I laughed and I whispered in Mike's ear that Dad was following. Mike promptly let me go and walked back down the hall. Yeah. Weird. He still hasn't said a word to me at this point.

And then it was suddenly time to go to the bowling alley, apparently, because I was the only one left in the house. I grabbed my coat and purse, and by the time I got outside all the cars were gone. I couldn't even find my car. And then my brother was running towards me on the sidewalk saying, "Anna, we've gotta go!" I said, "I can't find my car! I don't know where it went. I'm the only one with a key, where could it have gone?" Mom and Dad drove up to get us then, so I told them about my car. Mom's response was, "It's probably just blending in with the snow, it is white after all." I think I raised an eyebrow at her and then realized that they were driving my car. I don't know how... Dad's got mad skills.

So we got to this bowling alley, and as it turns out we're celebrating a birthday, I don't know whose. I end up sitting in the lobby with Lily on my lap, Mike is nowhere to be found, not that I had looked particularly hard. He came out of the actually alley and said, "I gonna head out." My grandpa just told him it was good to see him again. I almost had a panic attack.

"Mike! Wait, we haven't even gotten a chance to talk!" I tried to set Lily down on the floor, but she grabbed my ankle. "Mike, wait!" I finally got her to let me go, and ran outside after him.

I got into his truck with him, and he immediately started driving away (!!!) and started saying, "What are we evening doing here? We don't like bowling."

"Well, I like bowling. Wait...we?"

"And the Lord of the Rings. We don't even like those movies."

"What are you talking about? I love those movies. Why do you keep calling us, 'we?'"

"Can we go rent some Stargate?"

"Why would we do that? I own most of it...you like Stargate?" I knew by then that he wasn't going to answer any of my questions.

"I don't even know why I'm here."

"What do you mean "here?" Do you mean, like, in Iowa, or the bowling alley?"

"I mean, here, on this earth and here, in Iowa." He then went on to talk about reinjuring his foot and getting into the karaoke business. Which is apparently how he knew my grandpa.

"Mike, I know why you're here--"

And then I woke up. Yeah. Lame. I was going to tell him that he was there because I had prayed for a second chance with him... and I didn't even get that. sigh


"Then I was weary, very weary; and I walked long in dark thought." [Gandalf, Two Towers]