"Every time I discover the meaning of life, they change it." (Unknown.)

Decided to make some changes on this here site. The background has changed and because of the type of screen I have, I don't really know how it looks on other computers. If the colors look like something that comes back up from your throat after you drank some ipecac, let me know. I just might not care to change it, but knowledge is power.

I had a really off-kilter day today. And when I say off kilter, I mean OFF KILTER. If life were a top, I'd be in the stage where the top starts to slow down and do that wobbly thing. I have this weird headache and this weird throat ache and I've been sneezing a lot. I think it's allergies. I hate allergy season. Time to go semi-vegan.

Change is hard to do. It's not quite as easy as clicking a few buttons and making some dark green colors go away. Battling against your own will is difficult. I don't like it.

I need to check my mail but I'm afraid to step outside. I'm going to wait until darkness and take the Biblical notion of a 'new day' before I venture out. This day was horrendous. But that shouldn't stop one from continuing to take over the world, right?

Good bye, Spring Break, hello work! I missed the kids. We'll see how their breaks were.

I wish I had something profound to say.

I got nothing.

I'm glad that God has given us the opportunity for change. Even though sometimes, change happens for the bad, at least there is the opportunity to change that too. Tomorrow, here I come!

Love this new search feature they have on Xanga.

I miss my voice. I don't know how to get it back. Writer's block for... too long now. Keeping on.

What is this human obsession with perfection? Or should I say, what is my neurotic tendencies towards it? Perhaps I overblow the "problem." My bedroom floor, my office work area, and other physical aspects of my life are often in complete disarray, which I often deal with pretty sanely.

These are included in a short list of some things in life that although they are not perfect, they are at the least discountable. Disposable. Set in a corner and ignored. Paint-in-beige-able and allowed to disappear into the background. -able. I need to stop making up words.

Take Sudokus for example. I'm not one of the masses of people who enjoy doing the number game. The satisfaction that follows is not enough to offset the fact that I wasted time staving off dementia by wrestling the urge to pull out my hair or throw the puzzle halfway across the room. If I make a mistake, I can throw the stupid thing out and revel in my 'stupid puzzle' soapbox. I much prefer crosswords which I like to think teaches me new things. Like the fact that the Boston Globe often recycles words. ("Hm... maybe 'crosshairs' will be used again...")

Or maybe I'm just teaching myself to give up easily. Maybe Sudoku is meant to test endurance. Maybe my end-of-days trial will be sitting at a table faced with pages and pages of near-empty boxes with "Chuck Norris" level Sudokus to complete or die or face giving up my religion. And they have to be perfect.

Speaking of religion. (Awesome transition, I know.) It's tough trying be perfect. Even for the non chapel-inclined, perfection is still difficult. Perfection, really, is an anomaly. In Christianity, perfection is a journey, a promise, a person even. Wouldn't it be easier if it were just a list of rules and checklists?

I take that back.

This is what makes all this that much more frustrating. Life by itself, even without the compounding, confounding nature of religion, is confusing. And what's more, life is not a giant puzzle that you can just chuck in the trash and start new. Likewise, the spiritual life requires more than just stamina. It's quite the paradigm shift. It's not about perfection or attainments or medals or trophies or feelings of accomplishment...

You can't trash it and start all over. You can't print out a fresh new eraser-less mark-free pristine page and move on as though nothing happened. Our wounds heal but scars remain. We can hide the defects but not all the time. We can't choose another option, another route, another body, another past.

This is why I believe Christianity to be a thing of the future. The wave of 'now's that are ever-passing, ever giving fresh new opportunities for forward movement, time never ceasing its march even at those times when we want it to freeze for even a few more minutes.

We are resting in the penumbra of earth's future. The darkness is ever passing and the light ever increasing.

Don't give up.

Well, what a trend. More than a month has passed since I posted an entry here. A lot of entries still on 'private' mode. I don't know when they'll be released.

Currently: spring breaking. Oh, the perks of being a teacher. (This is what everyone else says. For me, this is a lifeline.)

I need to write more. Things are going down the tubules, writing-wise. Some great ideas were floating by, but I didn't catch them in my book so they're gone. Funny how that can happen. How ideas can just disappear like that. I'm hoping one of them will return.

I am resting. Resting and relaxing.

So the question at hand is whether or not this Christianity thing is possible. Is it? I heard this question again recently, and I had to think. Is this really a pie-in-the-sky impossibility that is structured perfectly to drive one insane? Is it really impossible to be a Bible-based, quality, godly, and most importantly, happy Christian?

I used to not think so. This made me very angry. It made me feel liberated, to some degree, grateful to be able to join the elite group who can throw their noses up in the air and say the whole "opiate of the masses" thing. It was good to be able to be "free" and do what I wanted to do without that awful feeling of constraint and often guilt.

Logic, however, is a double-edged sword. The more I am studying about worldviews, the more I see Christianity not only as a way of life, but as THE way of life. The best way. The honest way. Moreover, it is not my way of life, it is me conforming to how the world really is. If God is really out there, can we dictate who He is? What kind of God would He be if He were really everything to everyone?

I was fortunate in my life to see Christianity lived and loved. Every human has his trial, and these trials have come, even to these people who first showed me the possibility of a loving Christian life. But I press on, now because it is just who I am. Christ has so enveloped me that I, even in the chains that still bind me to the things of this world, am His captive first.

I am glad for that. I am glad that I have prayer. I am glad that I have a God, who patiently waits even as I kick against Him... because at least I have a God to kick against.

I found out recently that psychics are doing very well during these times. People are worried. They want to know if their house will sell, if their children will be safe, if their money will last, if they will make it in the end. They want to know if they will be ok.

And they are usually told "peace and safety."

There comes a time where there will be no peace or safety, save in the power of God. And thus is the gospel, the "power of God unto salvation." (Romans 1:16)

This is why Christianity is possible. Not because human beings are going to be so good at it, but because it is held up by God Himself... a God who does not operate on laws of pendulums or entropy or any other natural law. The One who holds up all things natural is not subject to its laws, physical or psychological.

And I love Him.

Though I fall, I fall into His arms. Though I fail, He has immeasurably succeeded on my behalf. Though I stumble, His rod and His staff comfort me.

My cup is always overflowing.

The first post of the new year. 9 days in.

As I've mentioned in my previous post, I don't really have any solid new year's resolutions... just a bunch of horizonal ones (spell check is telling me that is not a word, and indeed it isn't...) What I mean by that is that I've tried to expand my horizon a little bit, and modify my baseline ideas of what is possible and natural.

I was thinking about Mark 12 today, particularly the passage when the Pharisees and Herodians come to "catch [Jesus] in His words." This is the passage where they are asking if it's appropriate to pay taxes to the oppressive Roman government. The NASB has them set up their question as such: "We know that You are truthful and defer to no one..." No one, they wanted Him to say, including this earthly government.

What Jesus ends up saying made me think a little. He says, "Why are you testing me? Give me a denarius to look at." And when they bring Him one, he points to it and says, "Whose likeness and inscription is this?" And they say, "Caesar's." Jesus tells them, "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God, the thing that are God's."

Jesus' answer hits the root of the problem. All earthly monies are stamped with the mark of the State, some currencies being worth more than others (this is of particular interest in this economy as of late.) The Jews, I'm assuming, were heavily taxed (I can't imagine why the iron fist of Rome wouldn't oppressively tax a conquered nation.) They also had to pay temple taxes, which I would imagine, led them to feel pretty poor. Wouldn't it just be better for their Messiah to come and do away with it all? Then they can actually buy stuff with their money. Like... I don't know. A PSP. But is that really what we (ahem, I mean, they) should be worried about?

To start, Jesus' answer is interesting on many fronts... "Why are you testing me?" He knows their hearts. O we of little faith. Why do we ask God questions veiled with the potential powerlessness of God?

And what exactly, are the "things of God" that we ought to be rendering? "Whose likeness and inscription is this?" When God built us, He stamped us with His likeness and inscription. We are made in His image. His Word, written in our hearts, is supposed to be an indelible mark of who we are and Who we belong to. When God says, "Why are you testing me? Bring me a Christian to look at," He should be able to do the same thing. "Whose likeness and inscription is this?" "God's." "Then render to God what is God's, and to the government what it the government's."

True, ALL things belong to God, whether it be life, livestock, or money. But only one thing has God's likeness and inscription on it: He made us, and we are the sheep of His pasture (Psalm 100:3), and He is interested in one thing, and one thing only: ALL of us. So when we give to God what is His, it is not the 10% of what He has already given us, but 100% of what has His likeness and inscription... 100% of what is His...

This is what the people of Jesus' time were completely unaware of. This, too, is what we are completely unaware of. We can ask God for money, for time, for wisdom, even... all because we desire to do what is good... but do we ask God of the Good things in life? To give more of ourselves to Him? Tithe is good, but if we rob God by not tithing, how much more so do we rob His heart by withholding what He wants most?

I am fighting of the urge to say, "This year, may we..." Because it's not just this year. It's this day. This hour. This fleeting minute. They are all precious. And the great thing is, it is God who works in us to will and do of His good pleasure.

It is almost the new year. Actually, in some parts of the world, it already is. And what have I to show for it?

You know, some years are just bad years. I’ve had stellar years before, but this one… this was one of those years that were kind of lacking. Where, I’m not positive, but it’s enough for me to look forward with greater expectancy to the oncoming new year.

I used to be a New Year’s snob. I mean, really, why make resolutions on one arbitrary day? Why not make one right now? Or tomorrow? Or on first-of-the-month-Mondays, or Wednesdays, or every second Thursday? What’s wrong with Full Moon resolutions? But like I said, this year, I will do more than sleep through the midnight toll.

OK, maybe I’ll still sleep, but I am willing to look at this new opportunity to make things right. I am hopeful.

I want to be better. A better friend, daughter, sister, auntie. I want to be a better teacher, mentor, leader… I want to be a better person.

I want to be more. More devoted, grounded, spiritual, wise. I want to be more aware, open, vulnerable, safe. I want to be more educated, others-aware, and kind. I want to read more, write more, study more, teach more. I want my words to never fall to the ground. I want them to have weight. I want them to be worthy. I want them to be something I will not be ashamed of or have regret for when I look back on them.

I want my promises to God to mean something more than just fog on glass. I want our relationship to be of mutual trust, not the one-sided vending-machine-esque treatment He often gets from me. I want there to be “nothing between my soul and the Savior.” I want to be ready in season and out of season. I want to love like I’ve never loved before.

I want Christ to be in my heart, without needing any special holiday to make it more real to me. I want to dream the dreams of a God who loves me, and strive to be the fulfillment of them. I want this to be my reality.

I know that some dreams are just dreams, and that some hopes are just hopes. But what is life without hope? What is an idealist without the stuff of her trade? I know the new year will come with her trials and disappointments... but I'm glad to leave these dusty memories behind for a little while and trek on forward.

And thanks, all, for joining me in this wild trek. We are going Home soon.

*The title has been changed from Hopey New Year to the more dignified, "Hopeful" New Year. I could only let it go so long until it bothered me to the point where something just had to be done.

Christianity is often extremely inconvenient.

And what of this God who demands such honesty from us? Exacting goodness, uprightness and righteousness? What of this Being who tells us 'No,' when all the world is enticing us with 'yes'es?

And so we trouble ourselves and we trouble the world.

While they would have gone around, tricking, stealing, lying, fulfilling their own pleasures on their own time, at the expense of others in choir rooms and rec halls and art studios and teacher's offices...

What is this conscience that pricks us... we didn't ask for it. They didn't want it. And yet there it is, like a bulldog. Constant. Persistent. Houndish. Slobbery.

Christianity troubles. God troubles. Elijah was called "he that troubleth Israel." (1 Kings 18.) The disciples and apostles were also accused of causing trouble and "turning the world upside down." (Acts 17.) Luther troubled the entire Catholic church and a nation.

I'm troubling these kids. And it's not a happy job.

I suppose I ought to be rejoicing. And that's the irony of it all... I hate trouble. It's the strangest thing. I hate strife and chaos and disorder. I cherish peace, safety, and quiet... but I've chosen a profession and on top of that a field which makes this impossible. I've enlisted in a war I don't want to be a part of, taken the front lines in a battle that is anything but safe, and have come face-to-face with an enemy that is anything but quiet.

Why do I always do this to myself?

And yet sometimes, I get all inspired again to take up my arms, rise up all afresh, and shout with the great hosts of the sky, "YES! LET IT BE!!" And then before I know it, I'm not in my twenties anymore, perhaps not young enough anymore to be able to say I'm "too young to realize that some things are impossible..." (I'm not too old yet, sometimes.)

But perhaps not. Perhaps I've only just begun. Perhaps exhaustion is a phase before exhilaration. Perhaps weariness is the darkness before joy. Perhaps the distant dawn of the fruits of my labors here will come sooner than I thought. Perhaps it is not as "all in vain" as it seems sometimes.

It's laughable how we are all from the same fiber. Giving the same arguments, The same "I am the only one left"s. The same depression, the same exhaustion, the same fear, the same discouragement. On and on for centuries upon centuries. And as the ages roll on, God is patient.

And yet there are those who preached, and sang, and thrilled in their hearts in whatever the situation. There are those who were so imbibed with Jesus that prison bars and song bars weren't different things... they didn't care about troubles or cares or weaknesses or c o n s e q u e n c e s....

Am I a troubler? Sure am. Poking and prodding into places I never wanted to go. It's too late to stop now. There's no turning back. It's nice, though, to meet people along the road who help keep up these wobbly knees. It's nice to have a God who tells me He knows what He's doing even though I'm completely at a loss. Who shines the light when all seems fuzzy. Who tells me, a troubler, not to be troubled myself...

Man, am I tired today. Exhausted, actually. Bankrupt, done in, drained, fatigued, frazzle, petered and tuckered out (who are these boys, anyway?), and just plain weary. By 4pm I wanted to be in bed. Sleeping, that is, not just curled up with the covers up. The day wasn't bad at all... I was just... tired.

Plenty of sleep. (OK, so I skipped breakfast. And ok, lunch too... but that couldn't be the problem, right?) I have this painful sore in the inside of my lip. I'm deathly afraid I'm going to bite it because I know it'll be agonizing. This makes me talk with a slight lithp. I have been snapping at my kids. And apologizing afterwards.

I found a letter from my old principal addressing the school. It made me miss him terribly. Not that this one is any that bad, but not half as supportive... I feel like the wind has gradually ebbed away from under my wings and I'm just flapping as hard as I can. This, as you might imagine, is quite tiring.

It's been cold here. Freezing, actually. I don't remember it being this cold. I don't remember it getting this dark this early, either, so my memory's a little batty. Either that, or I'm just Eeyore enough to notice it all this year. Or the sun is really going down earlier than it did last year and there's a great conspiracy by the weathermen, newscasters, and general public even, to cover that up.

I can't believe it's December. In a few weeks, it'll be one decade into this century. I'm still getting over the whole fact that it was the year 2000 and my parents were hoarding canned foods and drums of water. Is this really happening?

Time is truly flying. I sometimes tell my students (partially just to mess with them) that there is no such thing as "living in the present." The present is so fleeting, that what you deem "now" is already a few seconds in the past as soon as it's registered in the brain. So really, there is a past, a future, and a negligible present. (Or maybe a "now" plus or minus 5 minutes--I call it the 'now' cushion.)

Yes, I'm a teacher. They let me tell this to my kids. I know. I know.

I'm thinking of extending my fast all the way through to winter break. (Actually, I can't, since i told the girls--yes, they're coming over again. I'm trying not to panic as much as I did last time--that I'd show them a movie. Not Veggie Tales. Something PG?) But I can make a one-day exception, right? Right.

Anyway... I just felt like blathering tonight. I'm feeling a little sick. It's not even 8 yet, but I think I might go to sleep.

But first, the book of Joshua. I've got some digging to do.

I had such a swell day today that I just want to blog about it so it's documented somewhere. Fantastic Mondays, I've missed you. I love my students. God is good for lending them to me.

To top it all off, I made some soondubu jiggae (Korean silk tofu soup/stew/what in the world would jiggae be?) just on a whim tonight and it was awesome. I'm not one to toot my own kitchen timer (if one could toot those things), but man. The secret, as they say, is in the sauce. You know it's good when you taste it and you immediately and automatically say, "Wow." I had a "wow" moment. Two, in fact, if you include the chocolate-raspberry cookies I made from scratch this weekend. Twice. So make that three wows. Cooking makes me happy. Maybe that's why I'm so happy today. It's almost 8, but I'm 'bout to go back and scrape off the pot I made that jiggae in. And it only took 10 minutes! Can't get better than that. (The cookies, on the other hand, took near 2.5 HOURS, but I made about 100 of them. Mebbe more.)

Life is better with good food.

Speaking of which, I am on a loose media fast. I realized I was spending too much time on things that weren't beneficial, let alone pure, lovely, and of good report. Actually, thinking back, they were impure, distorted, and of unstellar character. So I'm saying goodbye to some of these seemingly harmless shows I watch... being more careful about the things that come in... and out. I'm surprised at the resistance I'm getting from myself, albeit mild. It's been a while since I've grappled with my old friend "old man" like this. It feels familiar... in a good way.

"Embrace your suffering," they say. And if this suffering means that the old self is dying, be it ever-the-more so.

"This I say therefore, and testify in the Lord, that ye henceforth walk not as other Gentiles walk, in the vanity of their mind, Having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart: Who being past feeling have given themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness.

But ye have not so learned Christ; If so be that ye have heard him, and have been taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus: That ye put off concerning the former conversation the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts; And be renewed in the spirit of your mind; And that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness.

Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour: for we are members one of another. Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath: Neither give place to the devil. Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers And grieve not the holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption.

Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."

Ephesians 4:27ff

I forgot how much I like this passage. I think my project during this time of fasting is to commit this to memory. I always enjoyed memorizing passages... I especially like the last verse of the chapter, 32, "And be ye kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." I want to live by this. I want to treat others as Christ has treated me.

Separation from this world is one sacrifice that is not too great in order to serve my God better.

I may be in the mood to create more cookies to share. Anyone want some? I am working with my hands to give to ye that needeth. Hehe. (The context is to those who steal, to steal no more, and although I may not have stolen from you, we have all stolen time from God... well, maybe not EVERYONE, but I am going to plead guilty, anyway.)

May God be that "secret sauce" in your life. Welling up into streams that causes people to take note.

I had this huge old post on gratitude and I decided not to publish it... it's one of those rambly ones that I want to keep in the safety of seclusion. Who wants traffic updates, anyway? Shadows and dust.

I have a lot of things I want to say, and I usually don't hold back... but tonight... tonight, I just want to say thanks.

To everything, for everything. I am blessed to have so many things to love.

If I had known how difficult life would be at a Christian Boarding Academy, I might not have jumped in so readily.

I probably still would've jumped in (wholeheartedly!) but maybe not so readily.

I have a headache. And a heartache. And a bodyache. And a... I don't know. I feel like there is a cloud hanging over me, and it's hard to shake it off. I walked back from staff meeting tonight (9:30pm) and I was choking back some emotion. This time, I'm not going to blame it on PMS.

These kids get to me. All kids that I work with get to me.

Before I go further, please join me in prayer for a friend whose child is in surgery and might have... a few complications. Children who are sick devastate me.

Got a call today from a parent whose child has epilepsy... was a great learner until the fourth grade when she started having grand mal seizures. I want to be able to help. Need wisdom as to whether we can add her to the load.

Students are calling me and finding me for academic, spiritual, and emotional help. More than ever. Their worries, concerns, and burdens startle me. They struggle with so much and I love them so much.

Had to expel 3 students from school recently. It's torturous not knowing their future outside of our care. It is never easy.

Found out that a really respected co-worker has MS. She found out today. Monday is the one year anniversary of her daughter's death. She was in her mid 20's.

Staff member's parent has melanoma.

Another staff member is going to have chemo. Hair falling out scheduled in a week or so.

And here I am, feeling sorry for myself for being tired and overworked. It breaks me.

I am so tired of this world... it's spiraling downhill, and I am so desperate for Christ to come and give us peace and hope. Tonight, as I walked back, and smelled the promise of rain, I realized that our hope really can lie in nothing less. We can't afford anything less than divinity...

I also realized that I can wallow in my discouragement or I could rise up and meet the host of angels ready at our aid... but that is so difficult sometimes. But I choose A. I choose...