passing of time...

Six years ago today my beloved mother passed away. On the one-year anniversary I wrote this in remembrance.

When liquid prism raindrops darken the path where I tread,
And thunderstorms spill ravenous but sweet upon my head,
It is then that I remember.
Behold the days of puddle-jumping up and down the street.
Gazing when it finally stopped at how everything looked: so fresh, so green.
Breathing in the cool, clean air, wishing we could always remain there.

When sunshine sneaks its way in through my window again
Like a long lost friend I haven't seen since who knows when,
It is then that I remember.
Behold the endless days of summer get-aways,
And sleeping late until the sun warms my face.
Climbing mountains, making wishes in fountains.
Roller skates, bike rides, somersaults and cartwheels - playing in the yard.
Sunrises, sunsets, outdoor meals - never thought remembering would be this hard,
A kite to fly and fireworks on the Fourth of July.

When leaves turn from green to gold to orange to red and brown,
Wood burns in fireplaces and cold and hard becomes the ground,
It is then that I remember.
Behold the cool nights of hayrides and bonfires that crackle,
Hot cocoa to hold and echoes of laughter.
Dressing up as hobos to collect all those candies and treats.
School starts again, making new friends,
Tasting the first eggnog of the year, thick and sweet;
Nights would get longer and we'd pull out our flannel sheets.

When snowflakes whiten my world with frost on glass - fresh beauty unfurled,
And ice breaks the trees of their fragile leaves, and drops them into the past,
It is then that I remember.
Behold long winters of Christmas caroling,
Holding on tight while down the hill we'd go barreling.
Forts of white stocked with weapons of snowballs,
Ready to fight; afterward snow angels and sugar plum dreams for all.
All cozy and warm curled up by the fire; telling stories while we sipped hot cider.

When nighttime comes like the magic of a whisper
That moves me to lean in as though to keep it there -
Right there in the intimate air between me and the one who whispered,
It is then that I remember.
Behold the nights of silvery lights: white diamonds on a black velvet sky
Gazed upon by so many in a life gone by.
You once stood too in awe of what surrounded you.
But I remember this a different way,
It was your beauty your light that took my breath away.
Only you could make a trillion stars seem to go out at night.

As each second passes and I view this world through rose-colored glasses,
It is then that I remember, I cherish, and I treasure
Your life, your breath all you left me in the short time you spent on earth.
Like memories that did not go with you and faith beyond measure -
Priceless things, valuable things, intangible things of boundless worth.
Though your face glowed a silvery gold and outshone the moon
I'll always remember it as the light that went out too soon.

I love you Mom!

never enough to be satisfied...

I was busy working on an assignment just now when an image came to my mind; I don't know how or why it came to me, it just did. We've all seen it so you'll know what I am talking about. It's either your own or you've gone to someone else's house for dinner. Your about to put a forkful of tender steak in your mouth and then it happens. You feel something on your leg and you look down and there's a furry paw resting there. You follow the paw and find it's attached to a chin with big brown eyes above it saying, "Feed me. If I don't have that piece of meat, I will die. I have been so starved and neglected." His eyes are burning a hole through the slice of filet on your fork, he's staring so intently. The pool of drool is rapidly spreading and your pants are wet now. Wet and foamy. All his energy and thoughts are focused on that one thing. He's hungry for it. He would do anything for it. He's desperate for it, really believing he might die. You slip him a morsel under the table and he about takes your finger off because he's so over-zealous. And you're amazed how he works his act all around the table and how it always pays off. And no matter how much he eats, he always has room for more. He's never satisfied.

And it hits me, what if we prayed like that? What if we sought hard after God the way a dog wants that piece of meat on your fork? What would happen? God already does some pretty amazing things, both in us and through us. Just imagine how exponentially that might increase if we were that absolutely desperate for him. If all of our energies and thoughts were completely focused on knowing him more and never being satisfied with the knowledge and insight he has given us. To be always seeking more, always growing. Even making the proclamation that we might die if we don't get it. Meditating on it, both day and night, waking and sleeping. Seriously, think about it. What could happen? At the absolute minimum, God would "slip us a morsel" and we would be so eager for it that we would almost take his hand off. Okay, not really, but you get the picture, yes? And I mean no disrespect at all. I am not, in any way, saying that God is up there dangling things in our face to tease us or see how much we salivate and jump around and whine, or to see how "pretty" we can sit. That's not at all what I am mean to do. I am just conjecturing on this a little bit, thinking about all the incredible, limitless possibilities there would be if we were just that over-zealous. At the absolute minimum, we would surely learn something deeply meaningful about God and his desire for us to fervently seek after him and his perfectly profound love for us. It would be just enough to make us want more. And more. And more. It would always pay off and we would never be satisfied.

peeling an orange...

"How do you peel an orange?" her question came as quite a surprise to me, and at first I thought she was kidding. But her facial expressions gave away that she was serious. "How do you peel an orange?" she asked me again. I was confused. Is this a rhetorical question? Or a trick question? She continued, "Do you use a knife? Do you just dig your fingernails into it? Do you slice it? Do you bite into it? How do you peel it?"

"Sometimes I use a knife and sometimes I don't," I answered rather matter-of-factly. "Sometimes I just dig right into it. Most of the time."

I had just entered the little wooden chapel and sat down with the prayer ministry team earlier this afternoon. The smell of cedar came off the walls and pierced my nose as her question pierced my thoughts. In the back of my mind I was thinking, I have to make sure I give the right answer.

That's when she said, "I don't know why but God gave me this image of an orange being peeled and prompted me to ask that question. I don't know what it means to you right now but I am pretty sure we'll get to the bottom of it today."

"Okay," I mumbled meekly. Still not sure if I should stay put or run far, far away from the crazy lady.

"And do you know that there's no wrong way to peel an orange? You can just rip into it or you can use a knife. Do you know that any way you do it produces the same result?"

"Sure. I know that."

"Okay. Do you have any idea why God would have given me this image to give to you?"

When I answered, "no," they led me in prayer asking God to reveal to me the insight behind it. It was then that I remembered a big ol' wound from a few years ago that had been bumped into recently. I had been working at a well-known outplacement consulting firm. I had a boss that would give me a project and say, "Okay, go." Five minutes later I would get an email, a phone call, or a view of her face peering into my cube asking me what I was doing, how I was doing it, etc... Anything I did was wrong. She had this nagging tendency to micro, micro-manage every little detail about every project of which she put me in charge. Repeatedly, I went to her asking her if she could please compromise and back off and give me some room to manage the project like she had asked me to. "Trust me just once with a project and if we don't get your desired result, then we'll go back and do it your way," I proposed.

She clenched her jaw and through her thin, terse lips she said, "I just can't do that."

This scene replayed itself at least once a month between her and me. Finally, I got tired of it and left knowing that if I didn't leave of my own free will, she would ask me to leave anyway. Better to leave than get fired, right?

So, today I recounted the situation to the prayer team. "And have you forgiven her?" one of them asked.

"For what? I don't really see how she wronged me," I answered.

"You don't see it? You don't see how you were designed for leadership and how she robbed you of using your gifts?"

I just about choked on the water I was swallowing. I had been thinking a lot recently about designing my own major in Leadership and had silently prayed for some affirmation of that.

I then shared with them how the wound had been reopened and was festering a little bit. I was a little embarassed because my actions in the recent situation seemed childish and over-exaggerated. They reassured me that I need not feel shame in the situation and reminded me that shame is one way the devil keeps me where I am and prevents me from seeing the beautiful truth in things.

I prayed a prayer of forgiveness for my former boss and for the more recent perpetrator. I asked God to reveal to me any others that I needed to forgive and I prayed through that.

And then one of them spoke the beautiful truth into my heart, the truth I most needed to hear: "The truth is, you felt devalued back then when your boss wouldn't trust you to complete a project of which she had put you in charge. She doubted your competency. You accepted the lie because she was someone you looked up to and respected as your boss. The truth is, Christina, that you were designed for leadership. It's a passion and desire of your's. I sense that about you. And the truth is that you are brilliant and vibrant. You are more than competent. You are more than enough." I nearly choked again because she had used a word that has meant so much to me the last couple years. "Enough. I am enough. No, I am more than enough."

All that from an image given to my friend of an orange being peeled. The exquisite simplicity yet surprising profundity of it all is so beautiful to me. God is truly awesome!

So, in the spirit of "fruitfulness": how do you peel an orange? Remember, there's no wrong way.

down to me...

"I want to experience this same stillness in my heart," I said to God last night as I sat outside watching the snow fall. They were the big, thick, dense snowflakes that are so pretty. There was no wind. There was no traffic. Everyone else had gone to bed. It was just me and God. And it was perfect. It was a lot like God was bringing pieces of himself down to me. I just sat and tried to empty my mind of all that I have thought about this week and attempted to just be with the Lord. And for a while, I succeeded. It really was quite magical and peaceful. And then I realized how late it was and remembered how early I had to get up this morning.

As of today, I feel like a true Alaskan. I spent most of the day snowshoeing with friends and the snow didn't stop. We headed out about 9am, hit the trail at 11, and spent the next 3 1/2 hours in the midst of God's beauty. We had a pretty steep climb the first mile and then it flattened out after that. Our goal was to make it to a couple lakes (Carter and Crescent) but we never quite made it. The scenery on the way was well worth it though (see pictures below). I am a little sore right now but it's the good sore; I feel great. We're heading out again next Saturday. And I can't wait.











Dan Thornton, my New Testament prof this semester; my friends Sylvia Sheldon, Timm Nelson, and Jeff Siemers, who was also my Service Learning prof last semester (he's done Rainier in Washington twice and is going again this summer)


of course, your's truly

"to write love on her arms"

"We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home." ~ From To Write Love on Her Arms by Jamie Tworkowski, as published for Relevant

You have to, have to, have to read the rest of it. And buy the t-shirt if you can. A-may-zing. Read it here. I am not kidding. Go. Right now to his site.

from concentrate...

First, let me start by saying that I love you all dearly. Your encouragement to me in your comments has been nothing short of the sweetest blessing, especially this week. I have been sick since Friday night, first with stomach flu and now with a sinus infection and itchy, watery eyes. You'd think it was allergy season. At times I haven't felt much like writing this week, but alas, I have persevered and knowing that you all are on the other end reading, encouraging, and possibly even praying for me has meant a lot to me. Thank you all and please, don't stop. ;-)

And now for Chapter 3...

Dear God, surround me as I speak,
the bridges that I walk across are weak
Frustrations fill the void that I can't solely bear
Dear God, don't let me fall apart,
you've held me close to you
I have turned away and searched for answers I can't understand

Chorus:


They say that I can move the mountains
And send them crashing to the sea
They say that I can walk on water
If I would follow and believe
with faith like a child


Sometimes, when I feel miles away
and my eyes can't see your face
I wonder if I've grown to lose the recklessness
I walked in light of you


[Chorus]


Little girl:
"I've got joy like a fountain!"
"Be kind UNTO others"
"In Jesus Christ Your son"


They say that love can heal the broken
They say that hope can make you see
They say that faith can find a Savior
If you would follow and believe
with faith like a child
~Like a Child, Jars of Clay~

This idea of "faith like a child" boggles my mind. It frustrates me to no end and makes me envious. I wish I had this particular brand of faith. I have been witness to others my age, or sometimes older, who dedicate their lives to Christ after hearing the Gospel for the first time, and are completely freed overnight of the bondage that a life of sin can hold on a person. Their whole lives are different from that point on after living a life full of worldly pleasures in every sense. I think to myself Why does it come so easily for them, who have only just heard and believed, than for myself, who has heard of such things since childhood and still beg for him to relieve me of my unbelief almost daily? I don't understand it. How does one make that kind of transformation? How does one "party" and live the lifestyle I have seen some live and then hear the good news and just put all their faith in it? I know the gospel has self-evidencing power and everything. It's just really hard for me for some reason. I want to have that kind of faith, it's a desperate cry of my heart to just have complete faith, without question and without doubt. To view my world with the clarity of faith, instead of through the doubt-tinted lenses to which my eyes have grown so accustomed, over the years.

I want to look at things and hear things God tells me, whether himself or through someone else, and not question. I want to take things at face value the way a child does. You tell a 5 year old, "Jesus loves you and died especially for you 2000 years ago so that you could one day go to heaven and live happily ever after with him and God, his Father," and the child will smile, skip happily away, and say, "Wow. That's neat!" or, "I know. Isn't it so cool?" And they won't even question it. They just believe it. Period. Or you can tell a child that the sky is blue because God painted it that way and they'll believe you and tell their friends. A father could tell a little girl that he went to the moon and show her a picture of himself landing there and not tell her until much later that it was really Neil Armstrong, and she will believe him. He will give her the picture and she will take it and show her friends bragging about how her daddy went to the moon and that she bets no one else's dad has ever been there. And even when they laugh at her she will remain loyal to her father, trying desperately to convince them that it is true. And she will think to herself, Why won't they believe me? Why does she believe him? Because he's her father and she loves him and adores him and frankly, why shouldn't she? She won't question him. She won't notice the slight smirk on her father's face or the faint hint of mischief in his blue eyes. She will just take him at his word and feel so proud of him, that he, her daddy, had been to that great big silver Christmas ornament in the sky and had walked on it. She will have no doubt in her mind that what he told her was the truth and nothing but.

Did Shadrach, Meshack, and Abendego really know that they would be safe in the furnace? Did they have the pure faith of a child? Or were they fearful that they would be burned alive? How did Mary just believe and trust completely that she, a virgin, would bear a child conceived of the Holy Spirit? How could one believe that? Would I have believed it if an angel appeared, when I was 12, telling me that I was going to bear the Son of God? How did Joseph trust that he could still marry her? I see miracles everyday: my friend who wasn't supposed to be able to have children has had her third, all without medical intervention; a phone call from a friend at just the right time; a check given to me for the exact amount I need at the exact time I need it; how my life has been spared countless times when I made such incredibly foolish choices; that I was so afraid of not being able to make it financially, and here I am, still in school; the wonderful splendor of this state that has become a home away from home to me; and so many others I could list, and still I sometimes fail to really take them for the miracles that they are. Oh, that I would have the eyes to see and the faith to believe...

How I desperately want to live in that depth of faith everyday. To have faith "from concentrate" so to speak, and none of that yucky "watered-down" variety. No additives. No fillers. Just pure, 100% faith, made from concentrate. When exactly did I "grow out of" that kind of pure faith? What happened? What was it that caused it? Was it just the "worldliness" that encumbered me and kept me from remaining there? Was it my own sinful nature? I feel like I am not even capable of putting my feeling about this into words and that's even more frustrating for me. I want to not look for the hidden message in things and not automatically assume that there's something hidden somewhere that someone's not telling me. I always think there must be a "catch" somewhere, instead of just trusting in it fully.

Now, I realize that it's healthy to look beyond the face value of some things. It causes one to grow up into maturity, always wanting to know more about those mysteries of God that we'll never really fully understand. But there are some things that are meant to be accepted and believed as they are; they don't need to be explored beyond what is plain to the eye or ear. Some things have a hidden meaning or a "catch" lurking far beneath the surface or in the fine print somewhere. My thought is though, that some things, the really really special things, don't.

What must I do to get there again? I know I had that kind of faith at one time. I know because I was the little girl whose daddy walked on the moon and showed all her friends in Sunday School the picture he gave her to prove it.

sitting in a winepress...

I have all these dreams and visions of what I want to see happen in my lifetime. For instance, I want a revival to take place in Alaska. There is such a hunger here and no one to feed it. There are churches and that's fine, but I am calling for more than that. I want fire. Wildfire. I think the generation to bring this about is the college-age generation. I have visions of Passion conferences being held in Anchorage or Fairbanks, OneDay events taking place in Juneau, worshippers gathering all over the state. There's a lot of "kindling" here just waiting to be lit and breathed into like oxygen to spread it all over. It's a passion of mine. But I don't think I am the one to bring it about. But if I don't, then who will? No one.

I finally found a church home here at Kenai New Life Assembly of God. Every time I have been there, the message spoke directly to something already taking place in my heart or life. It has been very relevant and the worship reminds me of Heartland back home, it's amazing. I had been missing HCC's worship and have found a fitting substitute at KNLAOG. This Sunday was no different in terms of the message. There was a guest speaker. The youth director for the region, Jen, was visiting and delivered the message that morning. Her sermon title: It is time. She started by relaying a story of how about a year ago she was touring Europe with a friend. She and her friend were talking all about these dreams and visions that Jen had of things that she wanted to see come to life. She was making all kinds of excuses and saying things like, "Oh that's too big for me to do," or, "Gosh. Ya know, that would just take too long to accomplish." Her friend just stops her midsentence and says, "Stop Jen. Little keys open big doors. Don't look ahead at what might happen tomorrow, or further in the future. Don't worry about it. Instead, take a look at what is in your hands right now." They turned a corner and were directly facing a pair of huge, old, wooden doors that led to a breathtaking cathedral. Jen emphasized how enormous these doors were with all sorts of adjectives. And then she said, "And I looked down and there was the miniscule, microscopic keyhole with a key the size of a pea pod sticking out of it." They turned the key and stepped inside and were awed by the beauty of the cathedral that surrounded them. It was perfect. The timing couldn't have been better for stumbling upon that door at exactly that moment. It drove her friend's point home. She described how she stood there in silence for several moments, even more in awe of God and his sense of humor. She went on. Before Gideon could lead his nation, he was sitting in a wine-press threshing wheat to keep it from the Midianites. An angel came to him and said, "The Lord is with you, mighty warrior." Gideon wasn't feeling mighty at all. He was scared saying that if the Lord was with them then why was all that stuff happening to them? "The Lord has abandoned us and delivered us into the hands of Midian." The angel stops him and says, "Go in the strength you have. Am I not sending you?" Go with the measure of strength you do have and I will be with you, the Lord says to all of us. Jen wrapped up by saying how she has seen various smaller parts of her larger dream come to be and that it was because she went with the strength she had, the little keys in her hand, and God did the rest.

Jeremiah 29 says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you..." For any of my dreams to become reality, I have to exercise, or condition, with the Lord. Encounter the Lord. In the encounter with the Lord, I am:

*able to act in confidence
*prepared
*strengthened
*able to hear the voice of the Lord and can recognize it
*able to act in authority

Before Gideon did what he was raised up to do, and lead his nation, he was sitting in a winepress having an encounter with the Lord. He had no idea what God could do in him or through him until God started doing it. Likewise, I have no understanding of what God can do in me or through me until he starts to do it. So, I will continue to sit here under the oak in Ophrah, in my winepress, begging for an encounter with the Lord.

Tomorrow... Chapter 3

jagged edges...

Sunday I posted lyrics to the song River God by Nichole Nordeman along with a promise to post about why that song speaks to me where I am right now. This is an attempt to do just that, but be warned: this has the potential of being pretty long. This is more for my own benefit than for anyone else's.

Through other peoples' postings on their own blogs, through conversations, through songs, through things I've experienced personally lately, I have come to realize that I am broken. Perhaps more broken than I thought I was even. I don't really even know where to start explaining this. I've just been learning so much since I have been here at school and experienced so much in my life and in my heart. God has become more real to me these last several months than ever before in the 28 years, almost 29 now, that I have been alive. I am so thankful for that fact. Yet I am learning that there are still several little fragile pieces of me that are lying on a dirty kitchen floor where I dropped an old china cup when I was 8 or 9. The cup has long since been swept up and thrown away and has no value today. But pieces of me are still there. My own sense of value and self-worth comes from circumstances surrounding that act of clumsiness that happened 20 years ago now. I am still suffering repercussions from it. I am beginning to see and feel all the broken little pieces of me being put back together. I am becoming whole again, the whole person God created me to be from the beginning. I feel God as he tenderly takes each fragile piece in his big, yet small enough, hands, and examines them. He gently applies the glue of the blood of Jesus, God's only Son, that was shed because God valued me enough to send his his Son to die on a cross for me. He presses every piece into place where he determined them to go long ago. And then he applies pressure with the Word of God to create a firm, solid hold. I have felt this, yes. But it has been a slow process and one that still continues to this day.

My whole life I was told what to do by whether or not I received approval. And if I didn't get approval I wouldn't do it any longer or I would change my path. Almost all my decisions were based on what others thought of me. Essentially I let others make my decisions for me and let my own opinions, dreams, desires and decision-making abilities fall by the wayside in the process. The subject of life after this year at ACC has come several times. I have so many options in front of me right now and it kind of terrifies me. I don't have anyone looking over my shoulder saying, "Oh, choose this way," or "Ooh, no, not that direction." I have this fear of not choosing the right direction and then getting into something only to discover after a while that I am not interested in it at all and then subsequently feeling stuck. I went to a Christian career counselor the other day hoping he would give me some answers and point me in the right direction. All I came away with was more opportunities and possibilities to frustrate me and confuse me further. An internship possibility that I thought had fallen through is now back in the picture just a few months later. Do I want to do that though and take another year away from school? Or do I want to continue in my education now that I am here? Do I want to work? If I do continue on in school, do I want to go into Christian counseling or ministry? English and creative writing or something else entirely? Do I want to be a guide for something like Adventurous Christians? Or should I do something with YWAM? Where do I continue my education? Here in Alaska at Kenai Peninsula College (branch of UAA) or at UAA or UAF? Or do I go to Seattle Pacific University or somewhere else? There are so many doors open to me right now and it's kinda scary. At this point I have the most peace with staying here and going continuing my education. I just want to be positive that it's the right choice for me right now.

Also, why do I have this need or compulsion towards perfection? A couple weeks ago I posted about how I was torn up because I turned in one assignment a day late and will now be docked a letter grade on the assignment because of it. I posted about needing to just give myself permission to fail and that it's okay if I do fail. It won't be the end of the world. I need to just do the best that I can do and be okay with it. I have, I am happy to say, let this concept sink in some. I got a D on a quiz in Communications class. It was on comma usage. I haven't studied comma usage since the 7th grade and that was longer ago than every one of my peers. When it comes to writing papers, I know when to use a comma and when not to, no problem. But for some reason I couldn't quite remember all the rules and such surrounding that subject. And there were only 16 questions on the quiz so if you miss 3, you're getting a low B. I let it slide. Then my prof told me that it was a very small percentage of my final grade anyway. That really allowed me to not stress about it. It was quite freeing. And then I learned that the rules have changed since I studied commas in junior high. That made it even better.

I am learning. Gradually. And the jagged edges are getting just a litte smoother.

I will break this up into "chapters," so to speak. Look for Chapter 2 tomorrow.

river god

I posted these lyrics on my other blog but they speak so much about the place where I am right now, that I find it's important for me to post them here too. I will be posting more about where I am spiritually and emotionally very soon.

Rolling River God
Little Stones are smooth
Only once the water passes through
So I am a stone
rough and grainy still
Trying to reconcile this river's chill

Chorus
But when I close my eyes
and feel you rushing by
I know that time brings change
and change takes time
And when the sunset comes
my prayer would be just this one
that you might pick me up
and notice that I am
just a little smoother in your hand

Sometimes raging wild
sometimes swollen high
never have I known this river dry
The deepest part of you
is where I want to stay
and feel the sharpest edges wash away

Chorus
But when I close my eyes
and feel you rushing by
I know that time brings change
and change takes time
And when the sunset comes
my prayer would be just this one
that you might pick me up
and notice that I am
just a little smoother in your hand

Nichole Nordeman

best thing i heard all day...

Passing Diamond M Ranch today, my friend Jesse muttered, "It would be so boring to be a cow. Just standing there, chewing cud all day." Everyone was silent for a moment and then we all laughed.

Later that day, in fact it was just a couple hours after that, Jesse proceeded to eat paint. We were painting the children's room, at a church here in town, an underwater blue color. She and Abe were posing for pictures that looked like they were licking the rollers. And then Abe says, "Let's really do it." And they did. Both of them. They licked the paint off the rollers and wiped it on Jesse's shirt. I just stood there thinking, "That can't be good. Or good for them." She spent half the rest of the morning hacking and coughing because of the taste and the other half of the rest of the morning getting high by sniffing the paint. And this is one of the RAs. I am supposed to look up to her. Scary. But I just can't help but love her.

fading into the future...

Do you know how sometimes in the movies, they will be shooting one scene and then it will fade into a similar scene in the future, with all the characters in the same positions, signifying the passing of time? Well, my life kinda feels like that right now. Seems like I just came back from Christmas break and as of yesterday, Spring Break has officialy started. It came so fast, I can't believe it. This last week was the most stressed I had been all year. I had about 20 things due this week, no jokes, and it was mid-terms on top of it. I was kinda grumpy and depressed by the end of the week hence the writing of Lay My Melancholy Down in my previous post.

This next week is going to be crazy busy too. I am staying on campus and those that are staying are working with the Arctic Winter Games here in town. It's like a just slightly smaller-scale Olympics. Basically youth up to age 18 from several countries all over the Arctic Circle are descending on the Kenai Peninsula yesterday and today to participate in the Games. We'll have dignitaries from all over, Homeland Security, foreign officials, and 747s at our little-bitty local airport. We get to help make sure the participants feel welcome by playing games with them and talking to them, etc... We're putting on a worship service for them tomorrow morning and we're helping them celebrate birthdays if they have one while they're away from home. I always wanted to be able to say, "I have credentials," like you see in the movies and now I can say that. I'll get to see gymnastics, figure skating, hockey, speed skating, indoor soccer, and soooo many more. Opening ceremonies are tomorrow night and that will be really fun to go see: the lighting of the torch, the native dancing, all the teams, etc... I wasn't as excited yesterday as I am today because I was so stressed but today I am. And they (the AWG officials) gave us all really super nice vest, jackets, and gloves with the AWG 2006 logo on them. The vests are reversible: black fleece on one side and blue-ish waterproof on the other side, black on the sides with VOLUNTEERS in white lettering down the right side. The jackets are nice too, like the outer shell of a Columbia coat, the same color blue and the logo. I have to admit I was impressed with what they gave us. I really wasn't expecting them to be anywhere near as nice as they are. Woo-hoo! I love free stuff!

Another thing I am thankful for: I was walking back to the dorm last night at around 7:30 or 8 and it was still kinda light outside. Amen! The days are getting longer and a little warmer. After Spring Break, there's 8 weeks before I graduate. It's gone by so fast and as I think about saying, "Goodbye" at the end of the year, it makes me sad.

Hopefully I will be able to post more often this week since I won't be in class. And I will try to take some pics of the games and post them too. Love you all!

lay my melancholy down

I Lay My Melancholy Down

Here on the ground
I hide my face
Hiding from you
My dirt and shame
Who am I
To dare and speak your name?
Full of hurt
And lifeless breath
I’m begging you
To save me from this death
I no longer can deny
This need for you
To heal this brokenness
For so long
My soul’s been bound
Turning from
My pride and past
I lay my melancholy down
Now clinging to
And holding fast
To this promise
Of life in you
Dying daily
To this world
Humbly taking up
This cross
Knowing that
Because of you
Your sacrifice
I’ve been reclaimed
I know that I’m
Enough for you
Help me know
In the midst of pain
You are enough
For me as well
For so long
My soul’s been bound
Now in this sacred place
Where all my sins
Have been erased
I lay my melancholy down
And on my Savior’s face
Shown all the anguish
Of the world’s disgrace
Bloody brow
And nail-scarred hands
Your pierced feet and side
All for me
My Lord, you died
Though I come
With nothing of worth
I still come with all I have
For so long
This soul’s been bound
Here at the cross
Where once you died
I lay my melancholy down
And in it’s place
I find new life

Christina J. Alexander
03-03-06