Normal is the watchword

I really appreciate Catherine Chalk.
I had the terrific opportunity to spend a significant amount of time with her today sitting on a couch talking, and it was such a blessing. I truly love our ability to be honest and lay everything out on the table right off the bat. I've realized recently that honesty is something I wholly admire in a person. I've had a lot of uncertainties in my life, and although I can appreciate the fact that not everything is black and white or cut and dry, I will take any opportunity to dispel the gray areas. During my conversation with her I also found myself reawakening a certain sense of self that I seem to be missing lately.
I love camp, but I feel like a floater here. Things that seemed so trivial before, take a greater importance in my life, and I spend a lot less time being conscious of what I have and my place in my own story.
I'm not sure if this actually makes any sense... but I'm just going to keep trucking along...

When I'm at home, despite whether I'm having a bad day or not, my purpose is clear, and I feel so solid and grounded. And I do spend a lot of time feeling that way here, don't get me wrong, camp has done amazing things for me; in the past and in these last few weeks. But I think different parts of me tend to be highlighted when I'm in either place.
I remember before I left for camp, I desperately needed a break. I felt so strained, and coming here was such a blessing. I could feel different things instantly falling into place, and started to wonder if Vernon was really where I was meant to be.
In the last little while, though, I realized that there are parts of myself, parts that I have felt growing and maturing and really adding to my character, that tend to fall away while I'm here.
I am apprehensive about returning home in 2 weeks, but at the same time, it feels right and feels like time. There is so much left to experience there, and so many people I feel at a loss without.
It's bizarre to think that this time last year, those people weren't even on my radar. I've always liked and admired Nicole, but I never considered she'd become my very best friend and confidante. I didn't even know Jen last year, and now I can't imagine my life without her. The MacBain's are like family to me, and I miss holding Ethan, Tenaya, Nathan, Ben and Lucas in my arms when I'm away. It physically aches a little to think that Janelle isn't up to date on my ENTIRE life, and I miss walking into work and instantly being cheered by Andre's smile.
I'm so grateful for the parts everyone has played in my life this past year, and I'm very excited for the next year.
I suppose that's all.
Namaste.

A glass can only spill what it contains

So I have made the conscious decision to start blogging again. I miss writing in a very achy way, and I should probably get back into practice before classes start up.
I'm not sure how I feel about life these days. I've been having a lot of D&M's (Deep and Meaningful) with Caitlyn recently, because I've been feeling like I'm losing sight of myself.
I've been priding myself over the past few months on how self-aware I seemed to be getting, but now I'm just not so sure. I've been through a lot of really intense stuff in my short life, and yet it seems to me that it's the more inconsequential stuff that appears to be throwing my life into a tailspin lately. Maybe it is that realization that has me so on edge.
Regardless, my heart has been feeling pretty strained lately. It's being stretched and squeezed to it's limits, and although I am aware that it's a muscle to be worked, it's not something I enjoy all that much. I was pouring it all out to Caitlyn earlier this evening about the things I feel versus the things I know to be true. That although I feel utterly heartbroken all the time, I know that healing is taking place in direct correlation, and despite my extreme emotional highs and lows, I am completely aware of where I am and what I need/am ready for regardless of how I feel.
It's funny, I had a moment after unleashing this wave of emotion where I felt completely vulnerable and embarrassed of everything I had told her, and was sure she was going to write me off as being a complete basketcase, but instead, she told me how impressed she was with how aware I was of my own needs and emotional boundaries.
It seems ridiculous now that I would ever think Caitlyn would think I was a basketcase; she's such a steadfast best friend, and she sees all the beauty and maturity in me that I fail to ever recognize on my own.
I feel lately like I have to work to constantly remind myself that I am safe and taken care of, and despite many possible pitfalls, I have so many terrific things going for me.
I thank God every day for Caitlyn, and her unwavering ability to make me see that.

This somehow became a lovenote to her, so I'll continue my emotional downfall later on.
Namaste.

ps. I've started listening to mewithoutYou a lot while writing; it is brilliant and therapeutic. Try it sometime.

Maybe our stars are unanimously tired

I don't want to hurt anymore.
I can't.
You mean more to me than anyone I have ever met.
I would do anything for you, and that scares me, because I'm not entirely sure you've done enough to deserve that.
You're so good, and so kind, and yet somewhere along the line, that ended between us.
I've been holding out for a sign that this isn't just useless progress, and I don't see it, despite all the ways I try to make myself believe there's something there. Something that isn't pain.
I love you, and I want to be in your life so badly, but I also know that, at least right now, you being in mine is just causing a lot of damage.
So I'm letting go.
It hurts so much more than I could have ever imagined.
But I need to do this.
I need to let you go.

Beyond Words

And I'll still love you
Beyond what words can say
I'll take your every suffering moment
And bring a better day
I'll still love you
More then what I hope to be
Let me wrap my arms around you
Let me take your breath away

Before the gleam of your taillights fading East to find yourself a better life

I haven't really felt like writing lately. Last night I was telling Jen about how, growing up, my mom always talked about the day when I would become a famous author, and I would sign it "Mahala Sarah" and make the dedication out to my mom, who taught me everything I know. I would usually just roll my eyes when she floated off into this fantasy world of hers, but it's a dream I still keep tucked away. I seem to be doing that a lot. Tucking things away. Dreams, hopes, ambitions, little prayers.. and I don't think it's what God wants for me. When I was a little girl, I had this picture in my mind of what my life would look like when I was 20 years old. I was talking to Clint yesterday about how, "whenever we start something new, there's always a certain expectation... and then there's reality." They rarely match up perfectly.

So does that mean that we should get rid of expectation entirely. Be satisfied with whatever we can get?
I think this post stopped being about life goals somewhere along the way.
But I may as well continue.... I'm starting to think that that's not good enough for me. I deserve more than "the best I can get. "

The glove compartment isn't accurately named, and everybody knows it - so I'm proposing a swift orderly change.

Cause behind it's door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm, and all I find are souvenirs from better times.

Chill

You stand still in the cold, paralyzed in your anguish, transfixed
By each swirling snowflake, which remind you every
Year without fail of the off-white hospital room and how you thought
That falling snowflakes were a lot like a crumbling tower.
And now you know without a moments hesitation that you’re the tower which
Resembles now, more than anything, the snow in February,
You know the kind, half-melted, and off-colored from months of
Shoe-soles and snow-shovels to the face.

And the chill, it creeps through the deep fissures
In your armor and that’s all it takes, you never think to take heed
Bat an eyelash - you stay peacefully inattentive, distracted by delirium
Not a single tremor until the fateful day it reaches the thick
Of your bones and by then, what can you do
But sit in careful deliberate silence, for fear the next insubstantial upset might crash
Your world to pieces and through the cracks will spill
Sorrow and you’re too focused on staying alive and breathing to realize that
You’re already deceased and buried in your silence and your stillness.

Mahala Sarah Woodford

Immortalized

Ellen-Marie Woodford (nee Bausman)

Green Eyes

MYSTERY Hair

4'10.5

Nail biter

Neat freak

Loves baking cookies/brownies

Hates winter and the color yellow

Loves flowers and the color green

Favorite animal - monkey

Terrible dancer

Always singing

Loves to talk and be with people

Infectious laugh

Can't drive standard

Always smells like lavender

Can make anything rhyme

Always has a story to tell

Hand talker

Major fan of the eskimo kiss

Hates being called "Ellie"

Has a "preterition's" nose

Maker of the best french toast in the continent

5 years.

How can it be 5 years already?

That's a quarter of my life.

Soon, the rest is going to fly by... by the time I'm 31, you'll have been dead for more of my life than you were here with me.

What if soon it's like you never existed at all?

How can it be that you have not been a part of my life for 5 years, and yet you're everything in me.

Heartbreak Warfare

So I'm really joyful these days. Things are going very well. I feel very grounded in my faith, and I love gaining more and more knowledge about my creator every day. It's such a blessing!

I've made some really great friends, I really like my job, and I concretely believe that Marion Houlbrook is the greatest woman alive. She's so sweet and hilarious and compassionate, and I feel like I can talk to her about anything. I am so glad that I've gotten to know her. Also, she knows all the words to "Walk Like An Egyptian".

This next month or so is going to be crazy. On top of work, classes and cell groups, next weekend, I'm going down to Vancouver for the Canadian Youth Workers Convention. The weekend after that is the CHT Banquet in Burnaby, which I'm very excited about. I miss all my friends so much, and it will be great to see everyone again... especially Chelle. She and the Nanaimo youth are staying in a hotel and I have already dibs'd a room with her. (Pathways doesn't really have a strong youth component... yet... so I'm going down as an independent). The weekend AFTER that I'm going to be helping Nicole with the annual christmas toy drive, and shortly after that I'll be back down to Burnaby for Christmas with the fam.

It's a lot of traveling, but I am SO excited for the impending weeks. It's going to be grand. Lately, I've just been working and spending time with the community around me. This weekend we had a Christmas Party for the women of Pathways, and it was a lot of fun. Yesterday I hung around playing videogames with Joel, and last night, Clint, Joel and I did a prayer walk around the downtown - it was freezing, but really great. This weekend is going to be spent babysitting and celebrating Joel's 24th Birthday! ....basically a senior citizen.

But I have to be getting to work, so I'll cut this short.

Grace!

When all the flames came rushing, well, you know that it was beautiful.

I hate being that person. I hate that piece of me. That in a second I go from someone I like to someone who I don't really recognize. Because I don't identify that way, that's not the person I am, but it is a perfect shadow of my insecuritiy... I don't need you to validate myself, but I do it anyway. It's stopping now.

Okay, now with that out of the way.

It's November... how did that happen? I guess I've been in Vernon awhile now. I like it a lot, not that I've seen much of it. Right now I'm stuck at home with a flu, and outside of that there's work and homework and other fun stuff. But the people are great, and my job is excellent, and I really love it.

God works in incredible ways, and I'm seeing that so clearly here.

Hallelujah.

Back to bed pour moi.

Arrivederci

Don't drop your arms; I'll guard your heart

So today was my first full day in Vernon. So far it's looking pretty great. I had the opportunity to hang out with Ethan and Tenaya (Clint's kids) and they really are incredible. Marion is such a kind and wonderful person and I'm really excited to get to know her more. I got to see the foodbank and thrift stores, and tonight Clint took me on a tour of the downtown area. It's strange to think of how every city is so different, and yet they all have so many similarities. All the barren places have the same sort of spirit surrounding them. Maybe it's just some crazy wave of discernment. I'm definitely stoked to get more of a feel for the town. We also took a look around the 24/7 Prayer room, which has been pretty much abandoned for the past few years, which is really heartbreaking. It's really an eerily breathtaking place, and I'm really praying for it to get started up again.

There's a lot more on my mind, spirit and heart, but I'm also very exhausted, and I've got some reading to get caught up on.

GRACE

You're my beloved, lover I'm yours; Death shall not part us, it's you I died for

When I was a kid, I'd come and stay in Vancouver with my mainland relatives for the entire Summer. During one Summer, I remember marching up to my Oma with purpose and saying, "Oma. You're not allowed to die. Never." She pulled me up into her lap and told me that everyone had to go when God called them, and I didn't have to be sad, because it meant that He had a very important job for them to do in Heaven with Him. I digested what she had told me and responded with, "Yeah, but you're needed here. So you're not going to go until I tell Him it's okay." I don't remember, but I think the conversation sort of ended at that point. A few weeks later, back at home, I relayed the conversation back to my mom. I asked her if she was going to stick around like Oma. I remember cuddling up with her on the couch and having her whisper into my hair that no matter what happened, she would never leave me. At the time, I took this as an iron-clad reassurance that I'd have my mommy around forever. A few years later, my mom was on bed rest after a particularly lengthy hospital visit. My Oma was visiting from Vancouver, and I had chosen, at that moment, to take out my confusion and frustration on the world by shouting and refusing to clean my room. For the first time in my entire life, my Oma yelled at me. She scolding me, how dare I be so selfish when my mom was in such pain. Slowly, her shouting became sobbing, and she collapsed on my bedroom floor wondering aloud how God could do this to my mother, pleading about how it wasn't right for a child to die before their mother. She kept repeating, "It's just not right", and I stood there, staring, bewildered. Not only because I was seeing her vulnerable for the first time, but because the words tumbling from her trembling lips didn't make sense to me. My mom wasn't dying. She had promised. She had made a solemn oath to my hair years prior that she would never leave me. Even at 14, knowing that bad things happen, already jaded and knowing that people are flawed and pain is a reality, I still held on to that promise deep in my heart. After she passed away, my heart changed. I grew up and grew into the understanding that when she held me that night and promised to be at my side forever, she meant it with everything inside of her. Because my mom is always with me, everywhere I go. She is that promise in my heart.

I need your strong hands to carry me; Take me, break me, set me free

Alrighty. So I am presently having a chat with an old friend of mine. Cordell is pretty much one of the first people I think of when I think of spiritual giants. Now, the last time I saw Cordell, he was 15 or so... and not the biggest kid in the world (not that I'm one to talk) but his great faith has always astounded me. When I first met him, a little over 2 years ago, in XLR8, nobody really knew much about him. But I learned really quickly that I had met a guy who would be doing some incredible things for the kingdom of God in his lifetime. He was like a walking prophesy. So talking to him lately has been a real blessing. Seeing how much he's grown in the past 2 years (spiritually, emotionally, physically... pretty sure he towers WAY over me now!), and, in comparison, how I've grown.
Anyway, the point of this post was not to talk about how awesome Cordell is... it's about what he and I were discussing. The call for something more. The thought that many of us are sleepwalking. We need a rude awakening. We need some sort of spiritual ice water to get us out of our lulls and do something for the kingdom of God, whatever that looks like in each of our lives. This weekend, for those of us going to SYC, it's a huge opportunity to wake up and smell the redemption. And for those of you who cannot make it (or, aren't Salvo and have no idea what the heck I'm talking about), why not make this weekend an opportunity regardless. You don't need a oceanside camp full of 200 screaming teenagers to do it. But I think it's time we woke up.

ps. Stoked to hang out with you this weekend, Cordell. Now get to bed!

These Ties That Bind Are So Pedestrian

Please attempt a critique. Not sure what I think of it as of yet.

Your eyes are blue, deep blue, like the ocean after a storm

And they shine, an incandescent glow, like the lighthouse, directing great ships home

Well, if you are the ocean, can I be your waves?

And if you are the lighthouse, am I the one that you save?

Because I've been stranded, abandoned, confined here for too long

And the only thing that gets me through is the glimmer, the gleam; your glow

The steady beat of your heart scanning the water; calm and slow

The assurance in each breaker, as the rush, it pulls me deeper.

And all the while, not breaking stride, or casting your eyes

Away from mine, and for that one euphoric moment I

Can feel your love resounding, and for only that split second I

Forget that I am drowning.

And they are blue, deep blue, just like the waves that pull me under

and I can barely catch my breath, and perhaps forget to struggle

Because while I sink beneath the billows and fight through tangled reed

I finally start to realize, you're merely brick and salty sea

And yet for that last eternal second, I can't bear to look abroad

And instead, gaze at your figure, while your lighthouse beams glow on.

God of strength, our weakness shows

Tonight in bible study we were discussing Thirst.

That desire, that deep longing for something more.

How life is this giant search for something of value, though many of us are not sure quite what it is or where to find it. We questioned how exactly we're supposed to recognize the desire if it's always been there. If we were always hungry or thirsty, would we recognize that we need to eat or drink, or do we only recognize it because we know what it's like to have that need satisfied.

I once read a book that presented the idea that we are all seeking out a relationship with God. Christian or not, our soul is constantly pulling us, tugging at our heartstrings, giving us that thirsty feeling. In fact, the Bible says, in Ecclesiasties, that God has set eternity in the hearts of men. Once, centuries ago, we were intimately connected with God. When God created Adam and Eve, he walked with them. Does anyone else find that profound? God walked with Adam and Eve in the garden. They shared a close bond with their God. He was so personified, so present in their lives. However, once sin entered into Adam and Eve's life, it created a barrier between them and God. And it only seemed to worsen with time. Nowadays, God is basically a foreign idea to the majority of the modern world. Once, we walked with God, and now, we merely thirst.

Also discussed tonight was the idea that a lot of people are hesitant to search. Maybe they had a bad experience with Christians in the past, maybe something happened that placed bitterness and resentment in the heart towards God. Maybe they're just afraid to take that leap. I remember being like that. My mom had just died, and it seemed that everywhere I turned, someone was telling me to pray. I didn't understand how a God who loved me would kill off my mother, who was the only real thing holding her delicate family together. My entire world was crashing around me, and I felt completely isolated and alone. And it was all God's fault.

When I tell people my testimony, and how I got saved, I usually leave out the part about how I started that night feeling pretty cynical. It had been exactly one year since my mom had died, and in that time, I had created this intricate shell of anger and emptiness and shame. I remember spending nights cutting, because, although it never helped me forget, it stopped me from thinking clearly enough to be able sort through all my feelings. Because although I was angry and shameful and completely miserable, I felt safe that way. I had fallen into a rhythm, and anything else scared me.

The night I got saved was one of the scariest of my life. Not because I was alone, but because I wasn't. Because I was surrounded by people who cared about me. Because for the first time, I didn't feel completely empty. Because surrounded by people who loved me, and talking to God, I couldn't hide anymore. Hide the fact that I needed a change, needed to face myself and my fears, or I was going to disappear.

It was terrifying, and sometimes it still is. But I wouldn't trade anything in the world for this fear, because nothing was worse than that emptiness.

I don't expect many people to take my word for it, but it's all I really have.

I'm not a great philosopher, I haven't devoured millions of ancient texts.

But come on. let's look at this logically.

C.S Lewis once said "Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger; well there is such a thing as food; a duckling wants to swim; well there is such a thing as water. If I find myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

Basically, If you can't seem to find anything to satisfy your deepest earthly desire, maybe it's not a earthly desire after all.

On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.

John 7:37

I heard the old man say we need the rain

I'm having one of those moments where I really want to blog something profound, but can't think of anything.

The bookmark in my bible is still in Esther, from back in August. It's not that I haven't read my bible since then, I just haven't had the heart to move it.

At the last holiday camp I had a group of girls who were really interested in the bible.

It was really incredible, and so I asked them what types of bible stories they wanted to hear. With overwhelming vigor, they all agreed that they wanted to hear about WOMEN in the bible. The first woman who popped into my mind was Esther.

When I was growing up, my mom was in Eastern Star. (Relatively, I was in Job's Daughters[technically, I still am] and my dad was in Masons.)

Each of the star points (kind of like "characters") in E.S is represented by a different woman in the bible. There's Adah, Ruth, Martha, Electa and... Esther.

Esther always stood out in my mind. She was so gutsy! Even as a 9 year old, it astounded me how Esther stood up for her faith.

I mean, she had just become Queen, was living a life so dramatically different from the life she once lead, and she not only put her social standing on the line, but her very life. She knew it was nowhere near customary to approach the King, but she did it anyway.

Knowing that it was a HUGE risk to take a stand for her faith, she did it anyway.

I think Esther is pretty revolutionary. And I mean, even for our time.

Realistically, how many people will take a stand for their faith, knowing the consequence could be death?

I think it's safe to say Esther is pretty much one of my heroes.

I can't wait to meet her!

I didn't expect to go on a tangent like that.

GRACE!

Then Queen Esther answered, "If I have found favor with you, O king, and if it pleases your majesty, grant me my life—this is my petition. And spare my people—this is my request. For I and my people have been sold for destruction and slaughter and annihilation.

Esther 7:3-4

I know it's not you my dear, it's the nothing that kills.

I'm excited. I'm excited for what I'm doing and where I'm going.

I'm proud (I know, deadly sin) of the work I'll be doing for Jesus. I want to make Him proud of me. And yet, as excited as I am, as completely called as I feel, I just wish sometimes that my family... got me. I have all these passions and a heart that has been completely and utterly set ablaze, and I can't share that with them. I can talk until I'm blue in the face abut non-profit coffee shops and homeless people and Jesus, and they smile and nod and tell me that they are glad I'm happy. But I recognize the face. The slow nod, the head tilt, and the half smile. It's the same face they've been giving me for the past 5 years since my mom died.

And it's killing me, because as much as they say that they're happy for me or "we'll support you, if it's really what you think you want", all I see is the disappointment in their faces. The pity in their voice. Like they think I'm ruined.

And it's not God, that's not what they're afraid of. I come from a family of Catholics and Anglicans (clearly two SEPARATE families) and, to some degree, they get the God thing. But they understood so much more when I wanted to go to some high-scale University and get a journalism degree, or the years when I worked towards becoming a doctor. That's the world they understand.

The look on their face is one of complete disappointment. Not in me, I could handle that. But in themselves. They are disappointed in themselves for who I've become. Like they let me down. It's like they feel that if they'd been there more after she died, I'd be different now. I'd be a doctor, or a journalist. Not someone who enjoys hanging out with the impoverished. Someone with no real plan for her life.

I could handle it if I had simply disappointed them. I can deal with my own failures. But the idea that they think they failed me. It kills me more than I can bear. I wish they knew what a positive impact they had on my upbringing. I'm not broken, I'm not some lesser being. It's not their fault.

I'm trying to think of a way to end this with some sort of finality... but my mind is so blank.

You hit your head and then forgot your name

Lately I feel like I'm standing still. I'm at that point in my life where I want to move, and live and do something notable. And I know that I've done a lot of great things for His kingdom, but sometimes a tiny bit of me wishes that was seen by everyone else, and I know their opinions don't matter... but I wish people could look at me and see success.

I am so excited to move in... 4 days. Wow. Four days. But I'm excited to do something new in my life... to get closer to moving forward.

My blog posting from exactly TWO years ago

September 12, 2007
So I decided to blog, since I haven't done that in awhile.
I've wanted to, really.. I just haven't really gotten around to it... other things get in the way, and things take a back seat to whatever your top priority is.
But isn't that how it is with everything? With friends, school, family or God?
I can think of dozens of friends who put their friends on a back burner when they get into a new relationship... or ignore school because of parties and the popularity race. Then there's the kids who put everything before their family because they feel that they'll always be there. I'm not playing the guilt game here, I'm just as guilty of that as the next person; trust me, before my mom died, I would often blow her off because it was Veronica's birthday and EVERYONE was going to be there and if I didn't go the entire universe would IMPLODE on itself.
The only difference is, with my mom I kind of did that when she truly needed it. However, I know I have forgiveness and I know that my mom never held that against me, even if I do sometimes.
What about putting other things before God? Now I KNOW everyone I've ever met in my walk with God could be guilty of that... we're "only human" right? We seem to be satisfied with knowing that God will always be there for us. I mean, isn't that what we learned in Sunday School and every week at church? God will always forgive us and he will always be there for us if you just ask him. I know that it sounds like a loophole, "I can screw up as much as I want, I can do what I want, say what I want, live the way I desire, and he'll always be there for me... waiting." Now, that may be true... but the way I see it is, if you truly accept God as your Savior, if you truly love him and are grateful for everything he gives you... wouldn't you WANT to make him happy, make him proud of you, make him scream with joy
"Look! That's my Son, that's my daughter! Aren't they wonderful?"
Yeah, we may only be human... but I think maybe we should strive to be more.

1234 - California sounds nice, but California's a lie.

Hey Mom,
I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I've always said that I write to you because sometimes it's easier than telling anyone else, since you can't respond, or judge me, and I can no longer break your heart like I used to.
So essentially, that just makes me a coward. But I guess you already knew that. I've always looked for the easy way out.
I don't even know why I'm so upset this time, and yet I can't stop the tears from flowing out of me. I feel like a monster. When I was little and I couldn't get to sleep, you'd take me in your lap and hold me there til I fell asleep. I miss that, Mom. Despite the fact that I'm far too old to need that anymore, I've been yearning for it so much more lately. I just want to curl up in your arms tonight and let the world melt away behind me. Now isn't that the sign of true cowardice? Hiding until it goes away. There's nothing I'd want less than to be 15 again, but I'd do it if it meant I could talk to you for just a little while. Tell you I was scared, or lonely, or angry. I just want you to tell me it's okay to feel this way sometimes. I just want someone to tell me it's okay to be who I am. That's a mom's job right? To tell me that she loves me no matter what?
The ugly truth is, I'm not a kid anymore. I don't need your validation. If you were alive now, I wouldn't want you to tell me it was okay, and that you love me no matter what. Unconditional love is amazing, but I'd want you to love me because you love to love me, not because you have to love me.
I want to be a person you'd want to get to know. And I don't think I'm that person for anyone. Dead or alive.