The past two mornings I've woken up, happy, gone to drink coffee and read the news (a morning ritual) and within ten minutes wanted to scream.

Racist immigration laws in Arizona, the entire idea of the tea party and all of their shenanigans, an audience on Dr.Phil thinking sex offenders should be put on an island (which, I promise, I just happened to walk in on while my mom was watching). And, other things.

People are so quick to err on the side of protection than on trust or forgiveness. It's disgusting really. Yes, we should be careful and wise, but there has to be a way to also extend a hand of welcome and grace.

The most difficult part of all of this is when people that follow Jesus are involved. There is room for different ideas, different interpretations, etc...but the church is supposed to be the epitome of acceptance and forgiveness. It breaks my heart when we act otherwise.

I'm reminded of the rebuke from Jesus in Matthew 23, a beautiful way to check our own hearts and actions. It's not the nicest thing, but you can always count on him to say it like it is. Here are several parts that I think are especially pertinent. Woe to us for acting in Jesus' name in a way that he would not.

"They tie up heavy loads and put them on men's shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them."

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the kingdom of heaven in men's faces. You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to."

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are."

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You devour widows' houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. Therefore you will be punished more severely."

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices-mint, dill, and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law-justice, mercy, and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter without neglecting the former. You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel."

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean."

I've spent several weeks reading and baking. Doing other things too, but mostly a lot of reading and baking. One of my most favorite things has been stealing my mom's library card and finding anything I can to eat up. I've read a lot of novels and memoirs and magazines and short stories and new york times opinion articles. But one thing I've really loved stealing (borrowing) is piles of collections of poems. I've always loved poetry, but more so lately. Sweetness. I love the way a person's words so much encompass the things you feel. I write poems sometimes, and I feel they don't even do my own feelings and thoughts the justice that other's seem to. A few pieces below from the most recent one, a collection from the brilliant Wendell Berry. Thank you, poets, for putting words to my soul.

GRACE

By Wendell Berry
(for Gurney Norman, quoting him)

The woods is shining this morning.
Red, gold and green, the leaves
lie on the ground, or fall,
or hang full of light in the air still.
Perfect in its rise and in its fall, it takes
the place it has been coming to forever.
It has not hastened here, or lagged.
See how surely it has sought itself,
its roots passing lordly through the earth.
See how without confusion it is
all that it is, and how flawless
its grace is. Running or walking, the way
is the same. Be still. Be still.
“He moves your bones, and the way is clear.”

EXCEPT

By Wendell Berry

Now that you have gone
and I am alone and quiet,
my contentment would be
complete, if I did not wish
you were here so I could say,
"How good it is, Tanya,
to be alone and quiet."

THE BROKEN GROUND

By Wendell Berry

The opening out and out,
body yielding body:
the breaking
through which the new
comes, perching
above its shadow
on the piling up
darkened broken old
husks of itself:
bud opening to flower
opening to fruit opening
to the sweet marrow
of the seed--
taken
from what was, from
what could have been.
What is left
is what is.

It's really powerful to have a weekend of intentionally focusing on and celebrating the death and resurrection of Jesus; the pinnacle of our faith. We can't have the resurrection without the sacrificial death or the death without the resurrection...and so we put our hope in both. And we also celebrate all that was done. "Death is swallowed up in Victory".

But today is Saturday, the day nothing happened. I think Saturday represents my spiritual life most of the time. We live between death and resurrection, some days seeing victory and other days only defeat. Some days feeling alive, others dead. Some days feeling free, others bound. It's a really hard place to live. Usually I think about how the disciples must have felt on the Saturday, nearly a sense of betrayal that they had given their lives to someone they thought was God and then watched him be murdered by man. But really, I think we feel this a lot of the time too. I just read in the news that a high school senior died on spring break after falling off a balcony last night. It also happens that 10 years ago today a friend died the exact same way, in the exact same place. I'll have dinner with his sister tonight, and struggle for what to say. It's been 10 years, but still is fresh. I'm feeling confronted with the reality of living in "the day nothing happened". I believe in victory, but can't always see it.

I have hope that this is the way it's intended though. There's something in not always seeing, but believing. Something beautiful really. And then there are moments when the resurrection is undeniably clear, and I can't help but celebrate.

Getting paid to play with kids is a dream. Here are some of the kids I got to spend time with this past year. I could go on for pages about how funny, sweet, brilliant, creative, and ornery they are...but I'll spare you.

And it's doubly amazing when their parents are great. Or when they listen to Beach House and have the new album for me to borrow! Which, speaking of, here's a little gift from la blogotheque...beautiful!

And so it is, the start of lent. Time to recognize the gift of life we are given, that we are more than just bodies, or animals, or a momentary mistake. Somehow we've been given life, which encompasses the really good and the really bad, our creativity, our intelligence, our longings, our ability and desire to love and be loved. Amazing! And even more, that we're able to participate in whatever reason or purpose that this might be, to engage deeply with the reality of our humanness, to engage purposefully with the life-giver, and to engage hopefully with the people around us.

I want to press more into all of these. To figure out who I am and what I love even more, to more intimately experience God, and to love the people around me as well as I can. I have yet to determine a practical way to do this, such as something to sacrifice or focus on for 40 days...but I'm hoping offering this desire to the Lord will jumpstart my imagination!

I'm sure I've quoted him before but Thomas Kelly is pure genius, so here's a bit more.

"For the Eternal is urgently, actively breaking into time, working through those who are willing to be laid hold upon, to surrender self-confidence and self-centered effort, that is, self-originated effort, and let the Eternal be the dynamic guide in recreating, through us, our time-world."

and then he goes on to describe the hope for our lives to be "moving images of the Eternal Life" which is seriously beautiful.

I have a deep, deep love for Martin Luther King Jr. Our hearts seem to be made of the same fabric. He's like a brother from another generation, place, race, etc., but I feel like one in the same sometimes. I mean, our hearts are similar of course...what we've actually achieved, well, I have a long way to go. I can only hope to be more like him, to have as much courage as I have heartache.

He made a statement about his opposition to the war in Vietnam in 1967 and had a brilliant explanation. Not only did he feel it was exploitation of the poor, but felt like as a follower of Jesus he had specific reasons he couldn't let it go on. He called the speech "Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence", and it's beautiful. He continues to be a prophet, 42 years after his death.

Here's a link. It's worth 22 minutes, I promise.

I have no idea who this is, but I think these photos are breathtaking. Detroit breaks my heart.

"O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which are cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen."

Lately I've been having the same conversation over and over: the difficulty of living life with a mindset beyond ourselves. It's interesting though to discuss it with friends that are followers of Jesus, Muslims, and Agnostics alike. It's just so hard, for everyone, to remember that there is (or might be, for those still processing belief) anything beyond what we see, taste, and touch. When you're busy, you're focused on your busyness. When you're not, you're focused on yourself. (Maybe I'm speaking more for myself, but have grace for me while I make generalizations.) It seems too, that once we're reminded that there is, or might be, something more than our own worlds we wonder how we got by living so small before. Sadly, it seems to be a cycle, and we're always rediscovering what a life beyond our physical senses really looks like.

For this reason, I continue to appreciate the season of advent. It's precious to me to have an entire month of reflecting, in expectation, on the hope of the world. Advent reminds me that there's more than daily tasks and obligations, even more than my relationships with people and nonsensical emotions. It reminds me that all of this is real and matters, but only in light of the importance and reality of the grand story being told. Luckily, the meta-narrative is one of nothing but hope for the world. And for my own soul, which is beautiful to remember.

Last night Brooke and I were decorating our apartment for Christmas and listening to Christmas music. I was being somewhat pretentious and ranting about how I can't appreciate didactic art, sadly including a large chunk of Christian music. When it becomes informative, it loses its authenticity for me. Either way, that's not the point...The point is that during this conversation one of my favorite Christmas songs from last year came on. It's a silly pop song about fir trees and presents, and not meant to be worship at all, I don't think, except that the people making it love Jesus. But one of the lines is "He landed on the earth all wrapped in skin, and they're the only ones to find him". To me, this communicates the gift of God as human, and the importance of his birth in such a beautiful way. God actually came to earth, as a baby! And this baby happened to be the one that Yahweh would give the majesty of his name. It's incredible, and hope-filled, and reminds me to live beyond myself.

Isaiah 11

¹ A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.

² The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him—
the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and of might,
the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD—

³ and he will delight in the fear of the LORD.
He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes,
or decide by what he hears with his ears;

⁴ but with righteousness he will judge the needy,
with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth.
He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth;
with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked.

⁵ Righteousness will be his belt
and faithfulness the sash around his waist.

⁶ The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling ^a]">[a] together;
and a little child will lead them.

⁷ The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.

⁸ Infants will play near the hole of the cobra;
young children will put their hands into the viper's nest.

⁹ They will neither harm nor destroy
on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the LORD
as the waters cover the sea.

¹⁰ In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.

I'm a really thankful girl, and feel in light of thanksgiving I should share. Most days I think if I deserve anything based on my character or actions, it's a slap in the face. Yet somehow I'm consistently provided for, and forgiven, and loved beyond reason.

Of course I'm thankful for nighttime bike rides, and tube lights, and getting caught in the rain, and new music, and chocolate, and colorful earrings, and puzzles. But even more so, I'm thankful for the people in my life. How wonderful to not only have a family that supports me and cares for me and loves me across the ocean, but to also have a family here. Notably, I remember two years ago and continue to be thankful for Joe's life, and also remember 21 years ago when I prayed for a sister and am so thankful for Sola. I really could go on and on.

I've been feeling especially thankful lately that I am always learning and growing. I'm thankful that I'm given the opportunity to be challenged, to risk, to fail, to change. Also I think of Orwell's words that "People with empty bellies never despair of the universe, nor even think about the universe, for that matter" and am grateful to be provided for so well physically that I can spend time learning about and processing issues of the world. Or even process the issues of my heart and my dreams.

So, thankfulness abounds! I wish I could go on, but I'm off to bake pies.

So, is there anything better than surfy, lo-fi music paired with a dance scene from a 1960s film? Brilliant.

I love this movie poster. And this movie. And sometimes I feel very much like Charlotte. Where is Bill Murray when you need him?

And remember how great this song is in the movie? Well, this is a demo actually...but still amazing.

I'm joining in the fun.

Here's the idea:

1. Write down sensory memories from childhood/life. smell, touch, sight, hearing, taste 2. Think about sayings you heard often/ lyrics from songs, like... "don't let the bed bugs bite" "safely in his bosom gather" 3. Think about things you smelled, food, mom's perfume, or the feeling of a family blanket 4. Write the senses down, don't explain them, but be detailed. Don't just say, "I am from dad saying " I love you more than the stars" say instead "I am from "I love you more than the stars." 5. Put "I am from" before your memories. List some together.

I am from...

I am from tummy rubs and sweetheart of Sigma Chi

I am from bear country and scotch soaked ice cubes

I am from Grant Boulevard, bases loaded, and who can be the quietest

I am from Allie-booly and blue floral dresses

I am from tractors in the snow and thriller on tape

I am from nowIlaymes and goodnight light and the red balloon

I am from superman ice cream, indian vests, and shrimp coming out of my ears

I am from a single with cheese and the first avenue pool

I am from well water, swingsets, and corn on the cob

I am from deer hunts and when the lights go down in the city

I am from root beer floats and shuffle ball changes

I am from dance magic dance and pigs in a blanket

I am from Michigan rummy, cherry bombs, and everyone makes mistakes

I am from homemade dress up and breakfast for dinner

I am from little hugs and emory adams

I am from pedal to the metal, cover girl, and Chrissy MacGyver

I am from TGIF and TCBY

I am from spearmint gum and soap foam beards

I am from air guitar, knives, and three little fishies in an itty bitty pool

I'm reading Profit Over People by Noam Chomsky right now. He's so controversial, right? I really don't have a strong opinion about him either way. I had a friend in college that really loved him, and even dressed up like him on Halloween once. But I don't feel that way. I do however think learning as much about neo-liberalism as possible is an excellent idea at such a time like this. I don't believe humans are going to find the solutions to the problems of the world, but shouldn't we, in the name of love, help prevent suffering as much as possible?

So, anyways, I'm reading Profit Over People and both love it and hate it. I love that I'm learning so much and have an insight into politics and social change from a perspective not held by many. But I hate that it exposes the misdeeds and greed of people I want to be able to trust. Remember when you didn't know anything about politics, when you were say 8 years old? I remember it well. Because I cried when George H.W. Bush left the White House. He had been President my whole life and I was sad it was no more. I was so ignorant and innocent, and loved him deeply for no reason but that he was my President and I thought it was really special. Oh, and I loved Barbara and her amazing white hair too. Seriously, ignorance is bliss sometimes.

I have no real life application or anything, only noting that learning is wonderful, but sometimes I just want to pretend I don't know anything at all.

Slowly the evening changes into the clothes

held for it by a row of ancient trees;

you look: and two worlds grow separate from you,

one ascending to heaven, another, that falls;

and leave you, belonging not wholly to either one,

not quite as dark as the house that remains silent,

not quite as certainly sworn to eternity

as that which becomes star each night and rises--

and leave you (unsayably to disentangle) your life

with all its immensity and fear and great ripening,

so that, all but bounded, all but understood,

it is by turns stone in you and star.

-"Evening" by Rainer Maria Rilke.

I have found amazing new music in some of the most brilliant pairings.

For the new Twilight soundtrack Bon Iver and St. Vincent teamed up for a little something.Seriously, this is a dream come true. And the music they make together is beautiful. Perhapsthis will spark some sort of future collaboration? May it be so.

Bon Iver & St. Vincent - Roslyn

And then Grizzly Bear joined the London Symphony Orchestra (or did the LSO join Grizzly Bear?) for a Halloween performance. The individuals that sacrificed possible expulsion from the show and awkward confrontations with security guards in order to post something on youtube, you have my gratitude today.

As people, by nature, we're strange. And thus our interactions and relationships with other people are equally as strange . And even more, our experiences with other people that we don't know are even stranger. Granted, sometimes our days go by relatively free of weird interactions, but those tend to be the days that we spend the majority of our time alone. Right?

Luckily, I really enjoy taking note of awkward moments. Today's being the presence of overly sexual music in a cafe.

Have you ever experienced trying to read while listening to "sexual healing"? I have. It's difficult, because the song is just so catchy. It's almost painful not to sing along or dance, but you can't because you're in a cafe...surrounded by people you don't know, though who most likely are also singing Marvin Gaye in their own heads and definitely tapping their feet. And then you think of the words to the song going through everyone's heads in the cafe ("I'm hot just like an oven...") and try terribly hard not to make eye contact with the older man across the table. The tension in the room is hilarious.

I suppose, following closely behind in awkwardness is the absence of music in a cafe. It's hard to win.

I'm reminded of how fleeting life is. Especially after hearing about a dear friend's friend, a wife and mother, who died this weekend. And as I watch from across the ocean as a dear friend to our family is intensely battling terminal cancer. Sometimes it's too much. The morbid reality that we'll all die, sometime, somehow. That everyone we love and every person we interact with will also die.

I initially have the tendency to want to withdraw when I think about it, to give people less. I think it's mostly out of self-preservation, really. But then I also have the thought of wanting to give my life away more if it's so fleeting. To offer people more of myself, to love more deeply. The confrontation with death makes me scared to not live or love enough.

Several years ago after experiencing the deaths of friends, I became incredibly frustrated at the state of my life; that I couldn't manage to be alive enough. I couldn't experience things as fully as I wanted to, or enjoy something deeply enough, or purely love someone, or feel free from expectations from myself and others. I had the feeling of being trapped. I felt that death wasn't natural, and that a full life was somehow possible but I for some reason was incapable of having it. It's beautiful, though incredibly painful, that death causes us to consider the reality of our own lives. Are we really alive...fully?

There's of course a lot more I feel I could say. And as I continue to be confronted with death, I still have the experience of aching to fully live. But I have hope now. I have hope that the god i put my faith into has offered full life to me, that it's available. Now I just hope that in every interaction with someone, in every minute of my day I continue to choose life.

¹⁶ And I command you today: Love God, your God. Walk in his ways. Keep his commandments, regulations, and rules so that you will live, really live, live exuberantly, blessed by God, your God, in the land you are about to enter and possess.

^17-18 But I warn you: If you have a change of heart, refuse to listen obediently, and willfully go off to serve and worship other gods, you will most certainly die. You won't last long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.

^19-20 I call Heaven and Earth to witness against you today: I place before you Life and Death, Blessing and Curse. Choose life so that you and your children will live. And love God, your God, listening obediently to him, firmly embracing him. Oh yes, he is life itself, a long life settled on the soil that God, your God, promised to give your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Sufjan Stevens is both an indie music god, and the man of my dreams (well, probably not but he does seem equally talented, nice, and a bit strange...which I like). He'd supposedly dropped music for writing recently, which has proved to be a big joke considering he's been doing a small tour and has an album coming out next Tuesday. Anyways, I forgot how great he is until I spotted Avalanche at the library today on the shelf of CDs to be put away and remembered! Here's a taste.

Everything is lost--uh oh!

Still I know that you can take it to the Lord

(All that he has given to the world)

I visited the IND of the Netherlands today. After leaving the office I made use of my train transfer at Schiphol to drink starbucks, enjoy the brilliance of airports and just be for a little bit. The appointment was easy enough really. And my last minute passport photo at Centraal met the strict requirements, luckily. At the end of the meeting the sweet woman helping me explained the new sticker in my passport, and finished by pointing out that the year of its validity begins TODAY. Meaning in one year from 13 October, I better be leaving. It's strange to have such a temporary mindset. Or, rather a temporary life and the prayer that my mindset is much different.

It's interesting to think in terms of having one year in Amsterdam. And having absolutely no idea what's in store, or hardly the ability to process what I want to be in store. I feel this year and the past are precious years, and vital in forming who I'm to become. This past year has changed my heart and mind (though I suppose change is not correct, but challenged and pressed and grew) in less tangible ways than new habits or hobbies. But I feel it's been incredibly more valuable than those things we see and touch and typically measure how we're changing and developing as people.

I've grown in awareness of myself in a way that has allowed me to see and confront issues of my heart and soul more deeply than before. Which has been both painful and good.

I've also expanded my perception of friendship to include people so unlike myself and found a fullness and joy that I hadn't experienced before. This has proven to not only be the less comfortable choice, but also the one that challenges our own motives of love and friendship; making me at times come to terms with how self-seeking I can be. Again, both painful and good.

I've also discussed Jesus with people that really don't care. The spectrum is great. Some people don't care because they're apathetic (which is sometimes appealing, really) and others feel they've grown past any need for a savior or faith for a God. But I've discovered that somehow Jesus has something for all of us no matter our philosophical or theological views on life and society. I've been reminded that he redeems people in order to redeem the world, and truly loves us regardless of how sure we are of his existence.

At times I feel like my life has unfolded during my year (and will probably say years next year at this time) in Amsterdam. Growth is scary in a way. But I do have hope that in whatever ways growth creates mess, however painful it is, it is very very good.

And, anyways, I hope for more this next year.

Do you ever have days (or, lifetimes) where everything seems utterly hopeless? I do. Not right at this moment, but the other day was one of those. I mean, has there ever been an initiative or revolution or policy that's truly bettered the position of mankind? Okay, I take that back. Considering as writing it I thought of several (notably non-violent movements like the US civil rights, the Indian independence movement, etc). But not nearly enough as you'd hope for!

It's a lot to think about (or worry about) and have hope for (and also the compassion). In our own small worlds alone we're surrounded by people who have tremendous need for love and healing. And then if you consider our neighborhoods, churches, cities, and the world. I, and I imagine most of you, don't want to be someone that knows about violence in inner cities all over the world, but separates myself from it to pretend it isn't there. Or who hears about war and starvation and decides to read the news less to avoid any sort of responsibility. But sometimes it just feels like too much.

We're contaminating our earth and our bodies, we are incapable of moving past violent wars in order to solve conflict, the gap between the wealthy and poor continues to grow, women continue to earn less than men and have less rights globally, people groups are constantly becoming the source of marginalization (if it's not for color it's because of religion, or ethnicity, or social economic standing). And even more, somehow it all connects. It's all cyclical. Which makes any sort of light extremely dim.

In all honesty, how do people have faith that it can get better? Especially when I can barely think past myself on most days. There could have been a lot of answers to our mess, but Jesus was such a good one. God was brilliant again and sent a Savior to redeem it all. If it wasn't for that victory, I don't think I could find strength to hope for anything more than the reality of today. How could I? The mess inside me alone needs a whole lot of redemption.