England

This blog is to end my blog drought. You know you are in a blog drought when your last blog is a title, and the intentions are there to continue, but when you look at the title, you think "this is suffice." Now a new semester is about to begin, and I'd like to say a few words. The first thing I'd like to say is the usual, and that is this, where does the time go? Did I honestly spend a week in BC? I can't believe it. But whatever the case, and no matter how fast the time went, BC was fantastic. Visiting James' family and friends, hikes in the rain, competitive Settlers, 'booking' in Vancouver, dinner dates, the movies, skiing in a white out on a real mountain (I emphasize real because Ontario doesn't have them) - all of it was such a treat. Now I'm back, and in a bit of a limbo stage, seeing my friends frantically get assignments together and suffer hours and hours of class while I sit and socialize and attempt to be organized for my next big trip. Which brings me to England. I leave tomorrow. How do I feel? Well, I don't. I haven't really sat down and thought about the fact that I won't be back at Redeemer until next September. It doesn't seem too real to me right now, and it most likely won't until I leave. Tomorrow. Oh man. But I suppose with time's habit of picking up speed at a seemingly exponential rate, it would only be fair for these next 3 1/2 months to fly by as well. We'll see what happens. The rest of my blogs will be posted from across the ocean, so this segway may be a tad lame in comparison, but I hope that whoever reads these little reflections will enjoy them, and feel free to write me! Not to sound desperate or anything, but I can imagine I may get lonely, and the best cure for that is to hear from friends. It's true. Ask Marva Dawn about social intimacy.
That's all from this side of the globe.

Merry Christmas!

I'm not sure what the deal is, but a cold has settled into the right half of my face. Now, on the positive side of things, the left half of my face is holding up nicely. That would be the positive side. Literally. ha.
It's exam time, and my first one isn't until Thursday. Some of you may think- wow, what a sweet schedule. Well. You would be wrong. Now I have four days of a certain feeling that tells me I don't have to study yet, even though all my friends are. And do you know where that feeling leaves you? Homeless. Because you flunked out of university.
So yes, it's Monday and I studied today.
I feel like a direct parallel can be drawn between my dry throat and this dry humor. It's time for a throat numbing candy.
That's all for now- I'll post again when I can breathe through my nostrils with limited effort.

This past weekend was one of those random weekends that sticks in the memory. It was great. On Friday, Trine and I wanted to hop on a bus and head downtown, explore the sights, and just get lost. My backup plan was a backpack with sandwiches and a blanket, in case we had to spend the night on the street. This all sounded great at the time, but as it got darker, and colder... we didn't mind so much that Tim and Jason wanted to tag along. In fact, with James knowing the entire bus route, and with two very sensible boys around, there was no chance of getting lost--

I left the sandwiches at home.

Saturday night we had a birthday bash for Danielle, which involved some seriously competitive charades. It got pretty intense, the teams being guys vs girls... but we definitely won.... 3 out of 10.
James introduced the game Mafia, which kept us going until about 2:30 A.M. Twas a grand party. On Sunday we invited Pastor John to the guys house for some tasty spaghetti. He liked that. So did we.

Monday we threw another party for Danielle ( she's our favorite) Jordan helped Trine and I get ready.

She's getting married, so we thought we'd celebrate. I must say, I'm really starting to love my house. It took a few months to adjust, but the girls are wonderful andI really like it here. It makes me kind of sad that I'm leaving in a few months. BUT moving on...

Tuesday was my weekly sleepover with my good friend Kris. We went with Ryan, Jordan, and Danielle out to Crabby's for 29cent wings. It was our last sleepover of the semester- possibly year- I'll miss you Kristina.

On a good note- James and I had a date tonight, which is always a good time :)

This picture isn't from our date. I just like it.

My Lord

There is something incredibly comforting about devotional poetry. For something thousands of years old, I'm amazed that it's still fresh. That is, it's still relevant. The contempt, passion, anger, fear, hurt, joy etc. directed towards God in the 17th century is still expressed. By me. Today. First of all, this demands some respect. God has been putting up with the same old 'stuff' since Eve ate the fruit. There is nothing new under the sun when it comes to human depravity. But He listens.

Second, it's incredibly comforting to know that people in the past share my experience when it comes to God. To feel His outpouring love, followed by 'nothingness'- making you question if you ever really felt that close to Him in the first place. But He's there, a constant pillar. Sometimes I wonder if the pillar analogy works for me. Right now it makes me think of a God of stone: cold, distant, deaf and mute.
Is He? Maybe. There's got to be a reason why we all go through this. It's bloody frustrating. George Herbert, pastor of a country church in 1630, knows exactly what I'm talking about,

When my devotions could not pierce Thy silent ears
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse
My breast was full of fears and disorder;

Oh that thou shouldst give dust a tongue to cry to Thee
And then not hear it crying! All day long
My heart was in my knee, but no hearing.

As pitiful a sight it is to see someone broken, crying and on the verge of giving up- when I read this stuff it's comforting. I don't doubt God. I doubt myself. I covet His stability, or at least ask that He give me some of it. And this is where the leap is made between normal poetry to that of devotional poetry.
What's written down is not intended for an audience, it's intended for God. The direct pleadings, rantings, and praises we express are extensions of what resides in our very soul. What an incredible outlet, a remarkable method, a beautiful gift.
And there it is: I resort to language, this gift of God's, to express God's distance. Thank you God, for the gentle reminder.

Last night was weird. I couldn't sleep because every time I closed my eyes, crazy images flashed in my mind, like monsters chewing off my limbs. I think Ryan put something in my coffee. Man, he's sneaky.

But anyways, it's like a nightmare when you are still awake. The worst kind- because you can't snap out of it. And so I spent a good chunk of time staring at the ceiling, which made me sleepy, which made my eyes close, which created a monster, which made me not so sleepy.. until I finally got up at around 12am, and folded my laundry.
Eventually I got back into bed, the cycle continued, until Danielle and Trine, either feeling sorry for me, or sick of hearing the creak of the bunk bed every time I tossed around, sang me the Care Bear Count Down
Priceless.

Of course this created Beastly and Nohart... and so the fun had to stop.

So weird. But really, what we got out of this was a great discussion on what Danielle should do with her future. It involved a bakery with apple turnovers, frosted cupcakes, christmas cookies-- and then a very detailed menu of what to bake at every season. The conclusion was to simply use a pile of pink frosting. That made me happy, then hungry, then happy---
I fell asleep around 2.

Dodgeball Warriors

The past week has been wonderful. I nailed my philosophy presentation and got excited about the prospect of someday teaching highschool kids about life. I have a pile of papers to get working on, which always kind of gets to me because it comes with this sneaky little genius- procrastination- which makes me avoid the library, tidy my room, go out for dessert, and dress like a hippy for some seriously competitive dodgeball. All in all, he makes the memories happen, so I think I'll keep him around for a while.

I don't want to make this long, because it's getting close to 2a.m. and I am asking myself what the heck I'm still doing up... but for the record I thought I should also put it on here that I finally made the decision. It was a sucky week of indecision and endless conversations with different people I love and trust, but I'm finally at peace with it. Enough of the intro-- I'm going to England baby. Four months in the UK to study my major and live as a local in the quaint little village of Charlsebury. Timot and I are hoping to fly together- and I'm really glad he'll be around. Four months seems like an awefully long time...so I'm going to sign off before I let myself dwell on that for too long.

Tata.