Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart.

Suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose blooming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.

-Wendell Berry

I'm about 90% sure this was written for his wife, but I feel it speaks volumes about Jesus, or at least my life with him. Some days I spend the whole time existing in my own little world, forgetting that I've given my life to something much bigger. Meaning I'm completely detached from what this means in all of my interactions with the things and people around me. My thinking becomes rational, my actions become selfish, any hope for something greater, or something more, is compromised. But how lucky that the Lord doesn't let me swim, or drown, myself in this world! It's never long before something happens or I have an experience I couldn't have manipulated myself and I'm reminded of the worldview I bank my life on.

It's been two months since I've last written. How has it been two months? And it's August 19th, nearly the end of summer. I say it a lot, and surely sound redundant, but how has time gone so fast? It's also been one year since Brooke and I arrived to Amsterdam. We went out for a celebratory dinner, stroll through Vondelpark, and glass of white wine last night and tried to reflect on our lives and how we've changed this year. It's almost impossible to do so though. It's too close still, I think. Everything still feels fresh, a whole year later. Perhaps it's good to be settled in a city (relatively of course, since everything will change within weeks) and not feel like who I am is settled. I'd probably be bored, or boring for that matter.

I managed to write 20,000+ words between going to Iceland and spending two weeks in England this summer. I'm not sure how it happened, but miraculously I had produced pages upon pages of theoretical and empirical research. It was exhausting, really. But! In a desperate attempt to obtain respondents, Brooke and I visited a local mosque that is the talk of Europe (at least in circles that discuss things like integration and religion). The mosque is young and still discussing their positions on topics like mixing men and women, so we not only got to hear a teaching but also sit in on a conversation between the women about how they should relate to the men and the community. Fascinating, really. But more importantly, we were welcomed with typical Moroccan hospitality by the sweetest Moroccan-Dutch girls. "The sisters" as they are now referred to. Being able to be a bridge between the Muslim and the Christian communities was a dream, but it's really a gift to have such dear friendships come from it. Since our meeting at the mosque we've spent several days together talking about being women and being believers in God, and some of the sweetest conversations I've ever had about faith. Funny that an act of desperation can produce such a gift.

I want to talk about Jesus now but have a date with Leanne. I'll keep that for the next post...

My brother gets married in 2 weeks. I can't believe it! It's hard to remember he's making a huge commitment, completely beginning a new life and not just having a big party in Iceland. I've been overly emotional about it. I'm incredibly excited, his wife-to-be is absolutely wonderful and sweet and kind, and I've always wanted a sister. I spent my childhood hoping for a sister. Literally my whole childhood was spent with my two brothers and family friends who mostly only had sons (besides a few exceptions). So, having another girl around will be a delight! So, I'm not sad. My emotions have been more related to how overwhelmingly thankful I am, I think. 

I feel so thankful for Drew. Luckily, I don't think he knows about my blog, so I can talk about him without him being super embarrassed. He's honestly one of the most kind, friendly, brilliant, witty, talented people I know. He's someone that you want to be around. He makes you feel like you matter. It's fun to have grown up with him. To remember him at his worst and at his best. To have spent some of my most fun times with him, laughing literally for hours and being complete idiots, and to have spent the absolute hardest times with him, crying together for hours.

Drew's so talented and yet so humble about it. There's not much he's done that he hasn't been incredibly successful in...but you don't always know that...and I'm not sure he even recognizes it. And he's extremely genuine and caring, nearly always considering people's thoughts and feelings before his own. 

I'm thankful too for the way his life has been protected. There were many times that something awful could have happened, but somehow a friend was there at the right time, or he had a girlfriend that wasn't afraid to give him a shot, or a police officer recognized him from being in a band, or he was just miraculously okay...and it's just such evidence how precious his life is to the Lord. 

So, I'm thankful. That I get to do life with him. That I get to be his sister. That I get to be there as he enters into a new life with Sola. It's exciting!

A lost seafarer, alive, has returned home.

Sæglópur, á lífi 
Kominn heim 
Sæglópur, á lífi 
Kominn heim 
þaõ kemur kafari 
Komin heim 
þaõ kemur kafari 
Komin heim 

A lost seafarer, alive 
Has returned home 
A lost seafarer, alive 
Has returned home 
A diver comes 
Has returned home 
A diver comes 
Has returned home

And just for fun, Glosoli! Soon, I will be one of those kids laying in the moss and running around on the cliffs...and praying to be able to fly too.

It's memorial day! I'm not celebrating...perhaps I should refuse to go to class today though as it's a national holiday and I'm American. Kind of like when Catholic kids got out of school in high school for Ash Wednesday...

Memorial day has always been a mile marker. It's the beginning of summer! I've been refusing to admit it's summer even though it's warm and sunny and everyone's finishing up classes. On memorial day the pools open up, and we put our dock in the lake, and in college we were retreating in Virginia right before finals week. It's scary to start saying it's summer. How in the world has it been 9 months? Why does time go faster and faster as you get older? 

When I think back to past memorial days they were all so significant. They were always somehow a turning point. The Lord started doing something new in my life and likewise something new in my soul. It was usually painful, but powerful nonetheless. Growing through death, accidents, marriages, friends moving, new jobs, graduating. Though I can't seem to even acknowledge it's here, I'm still praying for something new in me! 

Similarly, it's always strange to me when I find my heart's prayers in scripture. I'm reminded of the unity of life in the church, of our similar paths as people wanting to live life with and for our God. I go through phases, praying different pieces of scripture (as I assume most people do) but lately it's been Psalm 51. And the message version is just great. 

Psalm 51

 ^1-3Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record. 
   Scrub away my guilt, 
      soak out my sins in your laundry. 
   I know how bad I've been; 
      my sins are staring me down. 

 ^4-6 You're the One I've violated, and you've seen 
      it all, seen the full extent of my evil. 
   You have all the facts before you; 
      whatever you decide about me is fair. 
   I've been out of step with you for a long time, 
      in the wrong since before I was born. 
   What you're after is truth from the inside out. 
      Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life. 

 ^7-15 Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, 
      scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life. 
   Tune me in to foot-tapping songs, 
      set these once-broken bones to dancing. 
   Don't look too close for blemishes, 
      give me a clean bill of health. 
   God, make a fresh start in me, 
      shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. 
   Don't throw me out with the trash, 
      or fail to breathe holiness in me. 
   Bring me back from gray exile, 
      put a fresh wind in my sails! 
   Give me a job teaching rebels your ways 
      so the lost can find their way home. 
   Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God, 
      and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways. 
   Unbutton my lips, dear God; 
      I'll let loose with your praise. 

 ^16-17 Going through the motions doesn't please you, 
      a flawless performance is nothing to you. 
   I learned God-worship 
      when my pride was shattered. 
   Heart-shattered lives ready for love 
      don't for a moment escape God's notice. 

 ^18-19 Make Zion the place you delight in, 
      repair Jerusalem's broken-down walls. 
   Then you'll get real worship from us, 
      acts of worship small and large, 
   Including all the bulls 
      they can heave onto your altar!

I discovered a used English bookstore just down the canal from the library a few weeks ago. I started going in before or after my excursions to the library, not really looking for anything, but just enjoying the possibility of finding something really good, and in english, for under 10 euros. But right before my trip to Stockholm I went in with a mission to find something to read while away, since I promised myself I wouldn't even think about social research for 3 days. I had some things in mind, mostly recommendations from people that read way more than me. I couldn't find any of them. I did find Moby Dick, which I considered since I've never read it and it's one of the books the whole world assumes you have, but the 700 pages seemed a little more than I could handle in such a short time. So, after searching for nearly 20 minutes, I found and purchased the Road. A book several people told me not to read, some people told me they couldn't get through it, some people told me it would change my life, and some said it was the best book ever. When i was paying for it, the old guy, who i assume to be the owner, laid out his opinions on every Cormac McCarthy book ever written which lasted about 5 minutes...but he hadn't read the Road. 

I've finished it now. I can't recommend it, but I can't really describe how I even feel about it. I don't think I loved it. Well, maybe I did but it almost seems wrong to say.  In case you don't know the setting, it is post-apocalyptic  America, and a man and his son are roaming the dead country hoping to survive. All life has been destroyed, besides a few humans trying to survive, the earth is desolate. The story depicts such desperation, and reveals a world absolutely void of hope. It's not dreamy or sweet. The story is actually horrifying at times, shocking that someone could actually put certain images into words, but it is deeply moving. I've been processing it a lot. What a depiction of a world starved of life and hope. A depiction of our nature, of the world absent of any redemption. The story stirred something up in me that was getting a little numb, that has the tendency to. It made me desire life and light in a fresh way. I was reminded that though the extreme of cannablism is not a typical darkness we face, the ways we use, manipulate, and hurt each other could be more similar than we think. The little boy is the essence of purity and goodness in the story. He's the only one that believes in helping others, regardless of his own fear. Some of it's naieve, but his hope is so precious that it's ackowledged by others and protected by his father...reminding him that "what you put in your head will be there forever". However painful or awful the story seems at times, it moves you to want and to fight for life and hope. You crave a world restored. Like it's said, "even so, come Lord Jesus."

At least, that's my opinion.

I went to see St. Vincent last night on a whim with Steph. St. Vincent is Annie Clark who's previously played with Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens, and she's seriously a gem. She's so sweet and cute in person, but makes music that's much more awesome and layered than simply sweet. She played in a small room in Paradiso, and intimate shows like that are always fun. Steph and I just kept looking at each other saying, "this is so great"...

Since I still don't know how to add music to a post, here's some videos. The first one's from a take away show with la blogotheque and the second is her new video from her upcoming album.

We ran into some friends at the show and ended up going out to a bar nearby afterwards. Somehow it happened to be music pub trivia night and it was absolutely hilarious. I don't think I've heard so many awful songs in one night. I hardly knew any of them, and I think that makes me the true winner. Our team had a lot of fun attempting to guess though, and relied on our only Dutch teammate for all the Dutch songs. Sadly he moved to the States before he was two and wasn't much help. We walked away in last place, but felt we made a valiant effort!