showdown

Welcome to the Graham and Tory Music Showdown.

I have a friend named Graham who is crazy creative and has amazing taste in music. I look forward to our chats because we usually end up swapping music suggestions, telling each other about the tunes that are currently tickling our ears.

Tonight, we had our first music showdown ever.

I like to call it a showdown... it's more dramatic.

Anyway, for your ear's sake, take note of the amazing tunes being swapped back and forth. Here are the results of the showdown.

Round 1:
Graham: "One Life" by Kalai
Tory: "Stars of God" by Northern Room

Round 2:
Graham: "Fake Empire" by The National
Tory: "Heaven" by The Fire Theft (Thanks Jo!)

Round 3:
Graham: "I'll Believe In Anything" by Wolf Parade
Tory: "Inside Your Head" by Eberg

Round 4:
Graham: "Is There A Ghost" by Band of Horses
Tory: "In Passing" by Company of Thieves

Round 5:
Graham: "Fans" by Kings of Leon
Tory: "Mr. Blue" by Catherine Feeny

Round 6:
Graham: "Valentine Heart" by Tania Tikaram
Tory: "Home" by Martinez & Guthrie

Round 7:
Graham: "Better Than" by John Butler Trio
Tory: "Hallelujah" by Cooper

Round 8:
Graham: "See The World" - by Gomez
Tory: "It's Not True" - by William Fitzsimmons (thanks Simon!)

Round 9:
Graham: "The Story" by Brandi Carlile
Tory: "Changing Your Mind" by Bob Schneider

Round 10:
Graham: "Finch On A Saturday" by Horsefeathers
Tory: "The Land Between Solar Systems" by Mum

Round 11:
Graham: "Much Farther To Go" by Rosie Thomas
Tory: "We're On Fire" by Northern Room

There you have it. The first music showdown for your listening pleasure. Thank you to my friend and fellow music junkie, Mr. G. Shepherd. I now have a "Grahamalicious" playlist to tide me over for a while.

Until the next showdown...

world

There is so much swirling around in my head and my heart right now that I can't really seem to put it into words. I have been sitting here at my computer for a good hour now trying to figure out how and what to write... and it won't come.

The picture above is of my friend Craig and his son Elijah. I love the sky in this picture and their silhouettes against it. It makes me think of a song I've been listening to nonstop all week. In some odd way, this song has been good for my soul. I realize the first line is a little jarring, but the song is so beautiful. If you get a chance, check it out on iTunes.

But this idea... of the world spinning madly on... it's exactly how I feel right now. That life is so crazy, and the world is so messed up... but, the world will continue to spin... No matter what happens, no matter how things unfold... life will continue.

With that, I leave you with the lyrics for "The World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies.


Woke up and wished that I was dead
With an aching in my head
I lay motionless in bed
I thought of you and where you'd gone
and let the world spin madly on

Everything that I said I'd do
Like make the world brand new
And take the time for you
I just got lost and slept right through the dawn
And the world spins madly on

I let the day go by
I always say goodbye
I watch the stars from my window sill
The whole world is moving and I'm standing still

Woke up and wished that I was dead
With an aching in my head
I lay motionless in bed
The night is here and the day is gone
And the world spins madly on

I thought of you and where you'd gone
And the world spins madly on.

on writing

The act of writing is interesting to me. I have so many odd quirks when it comes to writing. I've been thinking about it the past couple of days. Here are a couple of my musings...

Space is everything.

I am totally and completely spacially oriented. Some may go as far as saying I'm obsessive compulsive about it. But space - in every way - is so very important to me. I make sure I have enough space to spread out when I am in a cafe, or, if the cafe is crowded, I make sure I have a corner where I can tuck myself in. I also have to be facing a very specific direction. For those of you that have dined with me, you will know that I usually pick the seat that faces the most amount of open space. Usually, I will aim to have either my back or side against a wall, and I usually try to face the door, or at least the front counter. I'm not necessarily concerned about needing to know where the exits are, but I need to be able to see the majority of the space I am occupying. Lighting is also another deal maker or breaker for me. I absolutely HATE flourescent light, and I love rooms that are lit by natural light. However, there is another element of "space" that is really hard to explain...but I'll do my best.

I'm sitting here at my parents house, the place I grew up and the place I lived until 3 weeks ago. I've written many a blog entry in this house. However, I am sitting at my mom's computer, in my mom's room, and in a house that is no longer my main place of occupancy. For whatever reason, this is causing a huge creative block in my brain. I find it extremely difficult to think creatively (hence a post on writing). Another example of this - I sat outside during my lunch hour today. I work downtown Milwaukee, and our building is right on the Riverwalk. So, I picked up my Potbelly sandwich, headed over to the river walk with journal and iPod in hand... the wind was blowing, the sun was shining, people all around me, huge, historic buildings towering over me... and nothing. Absolutely nothing came. All I could do was daydream, and wonder why the woman sitting behind me clipping her nails had to sit RIGHT behind me, and not on one of the 8 other benches that were open around us.

Space and comfort are everything when it comes to writing... well, mostly everything.

A phrase escaped me today that surprised me little bit. I had sent an email to someone telling them that often times, it is quite easy for me to spill all of my thoughts out in an email, even if I don't know the person I'm emailing all that well. The person responded by telling me the opposite is true for them. I then answered with the following phrase: "I often show great courage through written word, when really I'm just cowering behind a screen/pen & paper." I didn't really realize how true that is of me until I wrote that. But it's so incredibly true.

Often times, I write about the things I am learning, or the things I'm experiencing, and I express them with an attitude of confidence - as if I've got it figured out. I've written about this before - how writing often gives me some sort of false confidence simply because I don't have to deal with the immediate response. But in some ways, written words are more detrimental, harder to take back. With written words, you don't have the excuse of not having "thought it out." Written words seem so much more, well, permanent. And that's scary... I don't know how many of my words I want imortalized.

Anyway, those are my random Monday night thoughts on writing. I wish I had something more profound, something more creative to write. But I've been reading a lot and hoping to write so much more, I'm just not there yet. These were the few thoughts that came to my head today about the topic of writing.

I do hope to write more. Both old school and new school style. I miss my computer. But, I think my pen and journal are happy it's gone for the time being.

alive

Yes... I'm alive...

But still without internet.

Next Friday... hopefully, a week from today, I will be up and running again. I will be able to post more blog entries and more pictures. I will be able to communicate via email, IM, and other forms of online "connectors."

But for now, here's the update:

Job = Good.
Confusing status (am I staying a temp, are they buying me out?). But good.

Condo = Lots of work.
There were a lot more things wrong with it than we first thought.
But it's getting there. Another few days, and it should feel more like home.

Church = Great.
Haven't met a lot of people, but feel like I'm building some relationships with some very amazing people.

Love life = Non-existent.

Oh well... Can't have everything, right? :)

Hahaha...

More to come soon.

path

Well friends, I am on a new path in life... Lots has changed over the past month or so. I now have a new job working as an administrative assistant for a company called ASQ (The American Society for Quality). I now have a new home - I moved in with my ex-coworker and friend Brittany. And I have a new church... well, not entirely new. I attended Metrobrook for a few months last summer, but I've now decided to be a "regular" attender.

And I couldn't be happier.

Now, I will give you a disclaimer. I'm EXTREMELY tired. I haven't had much time to do much of anything over the past couple of weeks. I haven't been near my computer. I haven't taken any pictures. I haven't done much writing or reading. Hopefully, as the dust starts to settle, I'll be able to do more of that...

For now, I just wanted to give you a quick update as to where I am at. I will probably be MIA for the next week or so as we do not have internet access at our condo, but I'm hoping that by early next week I can post some pictures of the new place.

I hope you are all well. Love you, friends.

push me

As I sat listening to my friend Tim preach a sermon, the first time I’d ever actually heard him preach, I was taken back by his acute observations and eloquent retelling of an experience he had just recently. Tim and his wife Vicky are on a journey to do a church plant, and have teamed up with Metrobrook to envision what God might have for them and the city of Milwaukee. Metrobrook Church, where Tim is now on staff, is currently doing a series called “God Is Closer Than You Think: Seeing God in the Ordinary.” This idea was coined from John Ortberg’s book, “God Is Closer Than You Think” and the pastors of Metrobrook have tapped into great teachers such as Rob Bell and Rabbi Lawrence Kushner. However, it was Tim’s detailing of his experience that spoke to my heart. Often times, when Tim needs to do some thinking or dreaming, he heads out to the place where he believes God is calling him to plant a church – a part of town referred to as Bayview. He will venture out to a coffee shop, or some other local place in order to be a part of the area he is being called to. On one particular day, he was drawn to a park where he sat and observed families enjoying their time at a playground. He watched as these children were playing, hearts seemingly filled with joy.

I listened to him talk about how anything is possible at the playground. To quote part of his story, “The playground is a place of wonder. Where slides turn into mountains, and sand is set on fire and turns into lava. A place you take your shovel in the summer and your sled in the winter. You go there to catch fireflies at dusk and you only leave when your eyes are shutting on their own. Mostly you go to the playground to play. To throw yourself into anything beyond what you could ever ask for or even imagine.”

The last two sentences are what struck me. “Mostly you go to the playground to play. To throw yourself into anything beyond what you could ever ask for or even imagine.” After Tim told us about his story, he had us turn to the people around us, and share our own observations. I couldn’t help but share a story about my little friend Mimi.

As has been the story of my life over the past year, I cannot tell you how much I have learned from my little friends at the Mission. And Mimi is no exception. Every Friday, we’d take all the City Camp kids on a field trip somewhere. One week it was rollerskating, another week it was the zoo. But common to most field trips was time at a park. Whether it be eating lunch there, or taking a break from animal gazing, most of our field trips included some sort of play time on a playground.

On one particular field trip, I can remember a few of the kindergartners on the swings, trying to get their little bodies swinging as high as they could. It wasn’t long before I heard, “Miss Tory, Miss Tory – push me!” There were a few voices, but as I looked over, there was Mimi, desperately trying to get moving on her swing. I wandered over to her, and began to push her. I believe I’m probably going to be a somewhat over-protective mother because I found myself not wanting to push her very high. However, she kept shouting with glee: “Push me, Miss Tory! Push me!” As soon as she was high enough, and her little legs seemed to keep her moving, I started to walk away. I wasn’t more than a few steps away when I hear, “Miss Tory, push me!” I said, “Mimi, you’ve got it now… You can do it by yourself.” But she insisted that I continue to push her.

The thought struck me: She doesn’t want me to push her just so she can keep moving. She wants me to be engaged in what she is doing – she wants me to partake in her joy of swinging. Really, I could have just stood behind her, cheering her on and she would have been perfectly satisfied. In fact, for a while, that was all I did. The point wasn’t my actual pushing, but rather my presence. She wanted me there while she enjoyed her time on the swing.

It made me wonder how often I ask God to engage with me in this way. How often do I ask God to “push” me, but then let him walk away? How often do I ask him to join me in my joyful moments, sharing with me in the beauty I’m experiencing? How often do I say “Push me!” not just to get God to do something for me, but only to know that he’s there with me, enjoying the moment?

My little friend Mimi taught me how to swing. As I was thinking about this idea tonight, I went to a park I where I spent a lot of time growing up. It was late, and the park was fairly dark. But as I moved back and forth on the swing, I thought of Mimi shouting “Push me, Miss Tory! Push me!” As I sat there, moving my feet in and out, reaching new heights, I whispered in the dark, “Push me!”

May I be a person who in moments of beauty and joy learns to engage with the Creator of everything, who cries “Push me!” even when I’m already in motion.

(For Tim's entire story, go here. It's titled "Playground.")

clarifications

I believe I may need to make a few clarifications regarding my last blog post.

First, I didn't even realize that you guys still read my blog regularly. I just posted a new blog entry today, and I've already received a few concerned phone calls and emails. I suppose I ought to give you guys - especially those who have not been "in the know" the past few months - what is going on and how I'm doing.

First, let me explain the work situation. I loved where I worked. I had two of the most amazing bosses, and I made some really great friends there... people I've gotten really close with. However, back in March, things began to change in my department. The director of our department left (it's a sticky story) and then in May, one of my co-workers Brian left, only to be followed by our associate director. Within a 3 month time span, our department which had 7 people was down to 4, and we were left without a director. During the summer, we have a huge summer program for kids in K5-5th grade, and there were two of us to run it (the other two focused on the teen program). The "higher ups" hired another director for us, but he was a man who came just out of retirement, had never worked in youth ministry, and really did not have a good grasp for the happenings of our department. Therefore, my co-worker Brittany and I felt as though we were running the program alone. We were to oversee 120 kids, 19 college and high school staff - neither one of us being what I would consider "qualified" to do so. But we made do, and ended up having a great summer with the kids and staff.

However, the "higher ups" and I did not see eye to eye on a LOT of things, and I spent the better portion of the summer fighting for what I believed to be good for our ministry. Because of these disagreements, they saw me as being disrespectful to authority and it caused a lot of problems between them and me. There is a LOT more behind that story than what I am giving you, but detailing the story is unnecessary. Basically, it got to a point where in order to keep my spiritual, mental, and emtional health in tact, I had to make a decision - I had to leave. It was an incredibly hard decision - one I'm still hoping was the right one - but I have a strange peace about it, and so I believe that it was.

And I want you all to know that while I have a deep sadness about where I am right now, as well as a bit confused, I am doing ok. I'm not in some sort of deep depression nor am I on some sort of spiral path downward... I'm just in a place where I'm really trying to figure things out, and not seeing any indication as to where I should go.

I appreciate your concern... thanks for the emails/phone calls. It feels good to know I'm loved.
I'll keep you all posted as things happen, and as I begin to figure things out.
Love you all.

familiar

This place seems oh-so-familiar. Maybe it's because I was here almost exactly a year ago. Maybe it's because I've been in this place more than once. But it is definitely a familiar place, and yet, I still have no idea how to navigate through it.

It's been quite a while since I've written a blog that reflected a letter moreso than an essay. When I first started blogging, I felt as thought my writing was more personal - as if I was writing letters to the world. And in these letters, I would express my dreams, my frustrations, my excitements, my disappointments, and everything in between. However, when I started writing for Relevant's website, suddenly my blog entries shifted too. I tried to make them sound more philosophical and deep, almost as if I was trying to make them more read-worthy.

But today, in this moment, I feel as though I want to embrace the type of writing I was once more familiar and comfortable with. I want to share with you this "familiar" place in hopes that maybe someone out there will want to journey with me, and maybe even help navigate this crazy life of mine.

This past year, I had the honor of working with the best kids on the planet. Those kids brought me more joy than I would have ever imagined. And Thursday, I had to say goodbye to all of them. As I stood before them with my co-worker Brittany and it was annouced that we were leaving, I was taken with emotion as I heard a loud "NO!" ring throughout the room. At the end of our program on Thursday, I was approached by all my little friends... some of them just wanting hugs goodbye, while others wanted consolation. This one little girl stood before me just sobbing. I had only met the girl 3 weeks prior, and had no idea where her strong attachment came from. But I cried along with her. And as I looked around the room at all the little friends I had made, tears came to my eyes as I knew I may never see some of them again.

Tears have also filled my eyes recently as I have tried to figure out what the next destination is in my journey. I find myself now without a job, without a place of my own, and without a church - three things that are fairly imporant to one's identity. I mean, as much as we don't want to be defined by what we do but rather who we are, there is still a lot of weight put on what it is we do for a living. And if I were asked that right now, I'd have to answer with a big fat "nothing." I have decided that I want to eventually go back to school and become certified to teach, and I have started to take action in moving towards that, but no doors have opened yet. Right now, I'm just trying to locate an open door in a huge hallway of closed ones.

But my biggest desire is to get plugged into a local church. Part of that will depend on what ends up being "local" for me. Over the past couple of years, it has become my desire to attend a church that is in my "neighborhood." When I attended Ridgewood, I lived about 20-25 minutes away, and most of the people who attended there lived further away in the opposite direction. This made "community" outside of church somewhat difficult. I think it'd be amazing to be next door neighbors with some of the people I attended church with. So part of my hesitancy to "plug in" comes from not knowing where I will be located because of a job or living situation.

As many of you know, pluggin into a church has been a constant struggle for me. I wish I could give you the reasons and explanations as to why this is so hard, and there are times where I wish that everyone would have an extended amount of patience with me. This is not like trying to find a new pair of shoes, or even like picking out a new car. Finding a church to commit to and become a part of is a HUGE thing for me, and I want to make sure that my decision is God-driven, not based off emotion. But sometimes, it is SO hard to seperate that. I can't even begin to tell you about the anxiety I've felt regarding church, or how hard it's been to feel uncomfortable every time I step into one... But know that it is a priority to me, just something I haven't quite been able to figure out yet.

As I said, this place is so familiar... I've been here numerous times before. You'd think it would get easier every time.

But it doesn't.

I still don't know how to navigate through it all. I'm still lost.
And I have no idea where the directions are.

mother may i

When I was a little kid, I used to love playing games with the neighborhood kids. Red Rover, Capture the Flag, Statue, Kick the Can, Ghost in the Graveyard… for each of these games, we’d gather together in the street and play as long as our parents allowed us. But as much as I loved each of these games, there was one game in particular I hated: Mother May I.

While games like Red Rover or Statue often showed signs of favoritism, nothing showed favoritism and unfair play like Mother May I. While in some games kids got picked more often than others, Mother May I worked a little differently. Winning the game depended on one thing – the good graces of the person playing “Mother.”

For those of you unfamiliar with the game of Mother May I, here are the basics so that you can get an idea of what this game is like. There is one person nominated to play “Mother” who stands at one end of the “field.” Typically, our field was a driveway, and the person playing “Mother” would stand at the top of the driveway. The rest of the players then stand across the playing field from Mother. One by one, each player asks the “Mother” if they may go a certain distance in a particular fashion. For instance, if it were my turn, I might say, “Mother may I please take 3 leap frog jumps towards you” or “Mother may I please take 10 baby steps towards you.” It is at this point the “Mother” determines whether or not she will grant you your request. This can be tricky because if you ask for too big of a distance, you may not get it and may even be required to go backwards. But, if you continually ask for small distances, you’ll never make it across. And if you’re not in good standing with “Mother” (aka – you’re not the coolest kid in the bunch) you’re pretty much screwed.

I hated this game because during my childhood, I was always younger than the rest of my friends. Therefore, they would often take advantage of the fact that I was young and more naïve, and I never really got much of a chance to “succeed” in such games. And in games such as Mother May I, my winning the game rested on whether or not my friends wanted to see me win – something that was a rare occurence. I had great friends. Really.

For whatever reason, I thought about the game Mother May I the other day. Be it that it’s summer or that I work with kids and am constantly around children’s games, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the games I played as a kid. However, it wasn’t until I got to my memories of Mother May I that I cringed.

I began to think about the concept of Mother May I, and for whatever reason, a connection began to form in my head. Sometimes I feel as though I treat life like a game of Mother May I, with God functioning as “Mother.” Track with me if you will…

How often in life do I stand on one edge of the field with God on the other and ask “God, may I…” and fill in the blank. “God, may I please have this job?” “God, may I please have this new car?” “God, may I please have this dating relationship?” “God, may I please have no more pain in my life?” I think sometimes, in life, I act the same way I used to act during those games of Mother May I. I am afraid to ask for something seemingly too big, but don’t want to get left behind by asking for things too small. I ask for 3 leap frog jumps because I’m too afraid to ask for 10. I take 5 baby steps when the person next to me seems to get 50. And I think too often, I feel like I did during those childhood games of Mother May I – that my happiness, my success in life, depends on whether or not I’m in God’s good graces and whether or not he “feels” like giving me my requests.

I am TOTALLY frustrated by this realization. I’ve put God into a game of “Mother May I.”

It’s so easy for me to look around, seeing where other people are going and what other people are doing, and ask God, “Why did you only grant me so many steps?” There are so many things I want to see, so many things I want to do, and so many things I want to be, and I feel as though God is granting those things to everyone but but me - that somehow, I'm not in his "favor" to win. So often, I resent God for putting me through the game so slowly, and often times complain about other’s “victories.”

However, I came realize that God is giving me the right amount of steps for each day. Trust me, this is a daily realization and it's usually fought tooth and nail. So often, I want my "steps" to be more than they are. So often, I find myself wishing I was somewhere else in life. But I've come to understand that God has a different "pace" for everyone. I have no problem understanding we are all designed differently, so why wouldn't that include how we move through life? There will always be people in front of me, and always people behind me… Maybe I'm exactly where I need to be.

Now, if only I could learn to stop asking about how to move and start enjoying the movement… even if it’s only baby steps at a time.

(photo taken from www.stamfordjcc.org)

conclusions

A few weeks ago, I made a decision that I wanted to blog at least once a week. I had a shakey start to that goal, and even now am not keeping to it very well.

Part of me wonders why it's so hard for me to write on a regular basis. I was thinking about when I used to write a story a week for Relevant, and I used to blog on a daily basis. I wondered what is different now...why I can't seem to do it anymore.

I came to a few consclusions. One: I don't spend enough time observing. When I was a student, I had quite a bit of time that I spent in the Union or the library where I would just sit and observe people and hear bits of conversations. I learned a lot about people, and ultimately, about myself just by observing the things that went on around me. Another thing about being a student was that I was always meeting new people, learning new things, and being challenged in new ways. I don't feel as though I have that influence as much anymore.

Another conclusion I came to: I don't have a lot of really deep conversations with people anymore. When I was involved at my old church, I had a few friends who were really deep thinkers and always posed interesting questions. I always had something I was thinking about. That created for some interesting thoughts and blog entries.

Third conclusion: My old places of employment didn't leave much room for processing. Where I currently work, I am able to verbally process a lot more and talk through a lot more issues/thoughts that are plaguing my brain, which elimnates my need to write about them on here. When I wasn't able to process stuff as much, I used my blog as an outlet for processing.

And lastly... I have been too emotional lately. Normally, that would provide some material to write about, but recently, I feel as though I have had too much to process. I sit down to write, and I have NO idea where to start. Everything seems so jumbled and confusing. So, instead, I just avoid writing about it, which has proven to not be entirely healthy.

So now what? Well, I think I need to take more time for observation, I need to find some people to surround myself with who are asking tough and intelligent questions, I need to stop processing things so much with the people I work with, and I need to learn to work through some of my emotions a bit more. Hopefully, as I begin to do some of these more and more, my desire to write will get stronger and I'll become more dedicated to it.

Here's hoping...

a letter

Dear Friend,

I am writing to you because I have not been myself lately. My words, my actions, my thoughts, my speech... all of these things have not reflected the person I want to be. I have reflected a spirit of hate, of hostility, of frustration, of hurt, and of vengeance. These are not things I wish to possess. But alas, it is the place I find myself in. I have allowed my tongue to control me, I have allowed my emotions to get the best of me... And you, my dear friend, have taken the hit. You have been the one that has been deeply wounded by my actions. You are the one who hears the angry roars and the evil whispers that escape from my mouth. You have been the one to give, and give, and give... when all I do is take, and take, and take - never giving back. You have put forth 110% effort to build our relationship, to encourage me, and strengthen me. You have given me a vision and passion... which I have bypassed for temporary gratification found through petty and selfish behavior. You are the one I have been inconsistent with, despite your undeniable loyalty. You are the one who I talk big about, but show little to nothing in action. You are the one who walks by my side day in and day out, whether I recognize it or not. And your continued patience... it astounds me, really. I would have given up on me years ago... But you didn't. You stuck it out. You waited and are waiting to see what I can become. You're waiting to see what decisions I make. You're waiting to see if maybe - just maybe - someday I'll turn the tables and respect you in the way you deserve. You're waiting for me to recognize just who exactly it is you created me to be, and what you created me for. You were there in the beginning, and you'll be there in the end... No one else can say that but you.

Dear friend, I write this to you tonight to let you know that I want the tables to turn. I want to put forth the effort. I want to change. I want to grow. I want to become more... well, more like you. But I need your patience, your grace, your strength, and every ounce of wisdom you can pour into me. I need you to continue being who you are, and I need you to change me. Thank you for who you are... Your friendship is worth more than my small words can ever give measure to. I love you, dear friend. Thanks... for everything.

Sincerely,

Tory Jane

fear

Clowns. Heights. Thunderstorms. Spiders. Scary Movies. Failure. Being alone. Dying. We all have our fears. For some, it strikes deep within us, paralyzing us, keeping us from being able to move and function in a normal, healthy way. Some people have what seem like irrational fears. I have one of those - I am terrified of clowns. Pretty much anything that has a scary painted face freaks me out. But while some fears seem irrational, there are other fears that are a bit more serious and debilitating. Fears such as failure, being alone, and dying… all of which seem to plague my soul.

Over the past few months, I’ve really come to grips with these fears. I’ve thought a lot about them. It’s crazy to me how many fears I have, and I often wonder if it’s an abnormal amount. And I also wonder what has caused these fears. There have been many times I’ve looked back at my childhood, and wondered if there were things that happened that have caused me to feel the way I do now as an adult. In any case, here’s my random trail of thoughts on some of my fears…

The fear of never accomplishing anything worth noting. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to accomplish something big. When I was little, I was constantly making TV shows and movies, newspapers, fashion magazines… all of these big “entertainment industry” type dreams rolled up into little girl art projects. As I got older, my dreams shifted a bit. I wanted to become a writer – write a famous novel or screenplay. To this day, I have a dream to write AND illustrate a children’s book. It seems as though I want to do a lot of “big things.” And yet, there is this fear inside of me, that I will reach the end of my life, look back, and see nothing but small things. But I wonder if my fear isn’t really a fear at all… if it’s really an inability to see value in the small things. I wonder if my fear is actually ignorance… Maybe I’m just can’t the small things as significant, when those are the things that should matter most.

Fear number two: The fear of being alone. I’m not really your typical girl when it comes to the subject of weddings. I know that most girls have these amazing dreams about what they want their wedding to be like. They know how many people they will have stand up in their wedding, they know what color dresses they want, they know what kind of flowers they want to have, what song they want to dance to, and all that jazz… I can remember my friends when I was little telling me their “grand plans” for their wedding. And I would play along, giving them my thoughts and ideas. But truth be told, it never really mattered to me. I’ve never really cared about what the actual wedding would be like – what colors I’d pick, where it would be, what kind of cake we’d have, and whether or not we’d have a dance. There are two reasons why I think this is the case. First, I think that for the most part, when we get older, we recognize that marriage is more than just a wedding… it is about a commitment and a lifetime of work. It is about a love that goes far beyond a one-day celebration. I’m also a pretty simple girl, so elaborate and expensive weddings don’t really gel with my soul. But I have a second reason why I think I’ve always sort of felt the way I have. Most little girls never question whether or not they’ll actually get married – they just seem to know that they will. This has never been the case for me. I’ve always wondered if it’ll happen for me. I don’t know why – I’ve just never been convinced. Maybe it’s because, ever since I was little, I’ve heard the phrase “God sometimes calls people to be single.” I remember the first time I hear that, I ran straight to God and pleaded with him, “PLEASE DON’T LET THAT BE ME!” But here’s the interesting thing… I’ve come to realize that getting married doesn’t make the “alone” feeling going away. Getting married doesn’t always quench that fear… and often times, it can heighten it. I’ve realized that as much as I want to get married, I need to seek community amongst people – plural. I cannot place all of the weight on one person. I need to surround myself with people who encourage me, challenge me, and spur me on to be a better person. People who will listen to me, and who will tell me when I’m being lame. Do I still want to get married? Heck yes! Do I still have a fear that I won’t? Unfortunately, yes. Do I still have a fear that I won’t find community? Yes. Do I still think it’s important to pursue community? Most definitely. I think both are possible, especially the latter. Our world is composed of many hurting people seeking community… I just need to meet up with them, and hopefully both of our fears of “being alone” will be abolished.

Third fear (thanks for hanging with me this far): The fear of dying… I’ve learned that my fear of dying again comes back to my fear of failing – failing to live a life that is worthy of living… a fear that maybe I’m not living my life to fullest, soaking in every ounce of joy that surrounds me. This past week, a good friend of mine was spared from an untimely death. When he could have died, God spared his life, and he continues to move, breathe, and live. This man is one of the greatest men I know, and he is a life-liver. He soaks everything he can out of each day, and even though I only see him on occasion, he is still one of my favorite people in the world. He inspires me to look for reasons to rejoice, and to live my life to the fullest…

As I think about each of my fears, I’ve come to realize that maybe they’re not really fears. Maybe they are just skewed perceptions. I mean, being afraid of accomplishing big things is really just blurred vision – I’m unable to recognize the value in small things. The fear of being alone may just be hope in the wrong thing – hope that a marriage will abolish my “aloneness” instead of recognizing the multitude of people around me who, if asked, would be willing to pour into my life. And my fear of dying might just be the realization that I don’t always live each day as if it is my last.

I wonder how many “fears” I’d actually have if I simply learned to change my perspective, and change my way of living. If I chose to rejoice in the small things, seek out the community around me, and as Thoreau said “live deep and suck out all the marrow of life!” I wonder if I might be able to squelch these so-called “fears” of mine.

God, help me to be creative, to shift my thinking and my perspectives. Help me to realize that all things start small. Help me to seek out and pour into those around me. And help me to live deeply until my dying breath.



(Photo taken by oh no, nilla at Flickr.com)

words

Words.

We use them every day. We use them in conversations and in emails. We see them everyday on billboards, in memos, and in the fine print of a document. There are words that are simple and common. There are words that are more obscure and are rarely used. But no matter what words are used, there’s no denying that words abound.

I’m reminded of a David Crowder song that goes, “I need words, as wide as sky. I need a language large as this longing in side. And I need a voice, bigger than mine. I need a song to sing you, that I’ve yet to find. I need words…” Every day we use words to convey what we are feeling, thinking, and wondering about. And yet often times, we find ourselves lacking the right words and using words that might not be the most beneficial or accurate. We desire to express ourselves correctly, but so often find our own voices inadequate.

The interesting thing to me in all of this what kind of weight words can carry. The more I journey through life and the more I discover about myself, the more I realized how much weight words carry with me. At times, I think of it as a positive thing. I love literature, I love to write, and I love to express words of encouragement to others. And of course, I always enjoy a good game of Scrabble! However, I’m realizing that my attachment to words also goes the other way; that words – or lack thereof - can be unbearably painful.

Over the past year or so, I’ve learned a few things about how hurtful words. First, I’ve realized just how easily I allow words to bruise and even scar my soul. One of my strongest love languages – one of the greatest ways I feel loved – is through words of affirmation. Therefore, it would only make sense that it could go pretty strongly in the opposite direction. While words of encouragement make me feel incredibly loved and lifted up, harsh words of disapproval, anger, or mistrust can strike just as deep. People often tell me, “Tory, you’ve got to let these words just roll off your back.” The interesting thing is, a lot of people will tell you they believe strongly in the idea of love languages – that there are certain ways we feel more loved. Couldn’t there exist the opposite though – a certain way we feel unloved? Isn’t that just as valid?

The second thing that I’ve learned is that my words are just as hurtful. So often, it’s easy for me to get stuck in a rut where all I can see are my own bruises and scars, and not the ones I have inflicted on other people. Being a lover of words has it’s curse too – you always have just the perfect negative word that will cause the most amount of damage right on the tip of your tongue. I am no stranger to this behavior. There have been times in the course of my 27-year journey where I very easily could have chosen to keep my mouth closed or used words with a little more grace. Unfortunately, my tongue doesn’t always match up with my brain, and I have inflicted my fair share of wounds. Maybe that’s what causes my own wounds to hurt a little more… knowing that at some point in time, I have been the cause of someone else’s pain.

The third thing I’m learning is probably the one that’s been most difficult for me to swallow, and that is how too many words or the lack of words can affect a person. I was talking with a friend the other night, and we were talking about belief. I told her that you cannot force yourself to believe something, but that if you hear it enough and it is constantly reinforced, the likelihood of believing it becomes much greater. For instance, take belief in God. If I don’t believe in God – if it just doesn’t make sense to me, and I can’t make that leap of faith to believe he actually exists, my forcing myself to believe that isn’t really going to get me anywhere. However, if those around me continue to express their belief in God, keep sharing stories with me about how he is working in their lives, and continually tell me about his amazing character, sooner or later, I’ll begin to question my belief more and more. I’m not saying it is a deal maker – I’m not saying that just because I am consistently being fed with words about God that I will 100% for sure come to believe in him. But I do believe that words have the ability to sway us one way or the other. Therefore, I’m realizing what the lack of words can do as well. When I don’t consistently encourage those around me, when I don’t tell people how much I love them, when I don’t make my concerns known, when I don’t speak out against injustice, when I am silent and I should be screaming… this can be just as hurtful as if I had said a thousand terrible words to them.

What I’m finding is just how much weight words can carry. They are not to be taken lightly and should not be used without serious consideration. I find it interesting how often the Bible talks about the use of our tongue. It’s CRAZY. Check out Proverbs, it’s all over the place. And James… whew! Some serious stuff in there. And our tongues are directly connected to words. I am ashamed by my tongue as of late, and am seriously challenged to take a look at how I use it.

It’s such a delicate thing – using words properly. I definitely have not mastered the art of when to speak and when to stay silent. Growth and wisdom are definitely needed. And I can only hope to eventually heal more wounds than I inflict.

(picture found on website for Massachusetts Institute for Technology)

signal fire

Not too long ago, I posted a video by Matisyahu. Today, I have a video I'd like to share with those of you that haven't seen it. It's "Signal Fire" by Snow Patrol - a song that is featured in the new Spiderman movie.

Can I just tell you how much I love this video? Maybe it's because I love kids, and think that anything involving kids pretty much rocks. Maybe it's because I like plays, and think it was a clever way to display the song.

Or maybe it's because I sympathize with the little kid who plays the spider... feeling like you're watching from the sidelines, not getting to be a part of things... and yet wanting it so badly. I often feel that way.

Anyway, here is the video for your enjoyment. Let me know what you think.

sunshine

It has been a long time since I've written an entry on here. I'm not totally sure why that is. There is part of me that has gained a great fear in sharing my life journey openly and honestly with anyone who stumbles upon it. There is another part of me that feels like the happenings of my life are not worth detailing. And there is another part of me that just doesn't know how to eloquently display it.

However, I had a thought tonight and decided it might be worth sharing. While I watched as the earth swallowed the sun, I was slightly saddened that the beautiful sun which had provided me with great warmth and joy, was going away. A great shadow set over my heart as the life-giving sunshine made it's bed for the night, and drifted slowly behind its covers. However, as I sat and watched the last flames of the sunset fade into night, I realized something - this phenomenon happens every day. The sun rises and the sun sets every single day, whether I witness it or not. Everyday, we are given light, even it if it is overshadowed by storm clouds. Everyday, we are given warmth, even if the harsh winter only allows the warmth to reach 10 degrees. Everyday, without fail, the earth revolves, allowing the sun to once again visit our portion of the sphere.

Sometimes it is SO easy for me to forget that... That every day, it starts over again. Every morning, the sunshine returns. That no matter what I do - whether I sleep until noon and miss the sunrise, the thunderclouds roll in, or a blizzard is hiding its existence, the sun is there...

There have been a lot of changes in my life over the past six months. Some of these changes are amazing, and I'm eternally grateful to be blessed by those changes. Other changes have beaten me up, kicked me around, and broken my heart.

Some of my days have been sunny - so much so, I've been required to close my eyes and just basque in the warmth and light. Other days have been so dark that I forget the sunshine even exists...and other days, I want nothing to do with it.

But tonight, while I was sad that the earth had swallowed the sun, I was reminded that the morning would again spew forth it's light... I was reminded that while I sleep, someone else will be able to revel all the beauty and glory I experienced today through the sun's wonderful existence, and that in a matter of hours, this life-giving force would return to my side.

Help me to recognize the sunshine... even when I can't see it.

jerusalem

I love Matisyahu... for many reasons. I just totally dig his music. And while I like the original version of his song "Jerusalem" better than the remix, I love this video... so I thought I'd share it with you all.

Take a gander...

emotion

Do you ever wonder just how emotional God is?

Being a female, I am no stranger to strong emotions. And I believe that I may even be a bit more on the over-emotional side. I used to think of it as a curse. There are still some days that I think of it in this way. I know that there are nights where I cry myself to sleep, and wonder why in the world we as humans were given such strong emotions. I've even had some pretty crazy arguments with God over the topic, wondering why he allows us to feel such pain.

However, as I begin to really search deep into this idea of emotions, I can't help but wonder how emotion-filled God is. I mean, after all, we were created in his image, right? I remember the first time someone told me that they are excited to some day hear God laugh. God laughs, I thought? That seemed like a strange idea to me. But as I began to unpack that idea, and I looked around at all the farcical things that exist in life, I came to realize that I do believe God has a sense of humor. I've even been known to thank him for that attribute in the middle of corporate prayer.

But that opens up a pandora's box of thoughts for me... what other emotions might God feel, and how strongly does he feel them? I think that so often, it's easy for me to put God in this small box, where he's good for a few things. He's good at telling me what to do in life, good at making my sins known, good at letting me know He's in control, and good at blessing me with the things in life that I need, and sometimes (not all the time) with the things that I want.

However, I forget that God is a God filled with emotion. All throughout the scriptures, you see a God that passionately pursues his people. You see an God who is sorrow-stricken over the state of his people. You see a God who wants the best for his people, who wants to release them from whatever is weighing them down... You see a God who guides people. You see a God who has mercy on people. You see a God who doesn't put up with any crap... a very firm God. Loyalty. Faithful. Sad. Joyous. Giving. Loving. You see a God who is so sacrificial that He gives away His most prized possession...

And yet, so often, I think God is this emotionless, distant, thing (yes, I often think of Him as a thing... Sometimes it's hard for me to wrap my head around what he really is). And yet, if I really take the time to consider who God is, it's amazing how much he really has created us in His own image.

joy, part whatever

I've done this numerous times before, but I think it's a healthy ritual. Over the past couple of weeks, I've really been struggling with a lot of different things. Some of them are legitimate, and are allowed genuine emotion. And some of these things I've just taken too seriously, and have gotten way too bent out of shape over.

Sometimes it's so easy for me, in the midst of my emotions, struggles, fears, frustrations, etc. to forget about all the things in life I have to be joyful about. There are so many things around me that I'm blessed to have, and I so easily take them for granted.

So, in order to help me sort of put things in perspective, and in looking towards changing my demeanor and attitude as of late, I've listed 25 things that I take joy in. These are not the obvious things I have to be joyful about (having shelter, food to eat, clothing to wear, air to breath), but rather the small, unique things that happen... the stuff that's easy to miss at times.

Here we go... yet another "joys" list...


1. "Polkabats and Octopus Slacks" - one of my favorite children's books
2. hugs from Tina... and just hugs in general!
3. naps
4. getting to see the greatest little kids in the world every single day
5. sidewalk chalk - I can't wait until it gets warmer!
6. holga cameras
7. mid-afternoon Scrabble games at a coffee shop
8. coffee (it gets it's own slot)
9. friends who tell me their baking a pie at 9 in the morning
10. hearing stories about the Lazarus house
11. watching my brother's unusual creative endeavors (usually involving Drew)
12. reminscing about childhood
13. swings
14. watching Elijah and Meira Kalbas grow up
15. finding tulips on your desk when you get to work
16. fun, pop-punk music
17. meeting random, but warm and accepting strangers
18. banana pancakes
19. catching up with old friends over Jimmy Johns
20. brainstorms
21. photo projects (365, 5 min, cream city walks)
22. turtles... cause really, they're just too cute. I miss Tripod.
23. driving in the car, windows down, listening to good tunes
24. going for walks at night... Seriously, one of my favorite things in the world.
25. deep conversations with good friends about life

significance

I've been struggling lately with the idea of significance. It's an interesting concept to me, this idea of "being important." And I'm not just talking about "Am I important?" but rather, wondering what makes something important and significant.

Follow me if you will, down this little rabbit trail of thought...

The world is painted with hierarchies... Every where you look, there is some natural order of importance. In the workplace, there are employees, who have supervisors or bosses, who also have supervisors or bosses, until we get all the way up to the president - the top dog of the company. He's the decision maker, the idea man, and everyone looks to him for the answers. At church, there are your average church goers, and then there are deacons/elders and then there is the pastor. School's are even structured with this sort of top-dog mentality. Take a look at any high school and you'll see the seniors dominating, and the freshmen getting stuffed into lockers. Everywhere you look, there's some sort of order of importance.

I've seen this spill over into my own thoughts about life, and in trying to figure out what is important, and what should be dismissed as insignificant. For example... Let's say I get into a car accident (please know, this is COMPLETELY hypothetical). I'm fine, but my car is pretty messed up. This rocks my world a bit as it puts a huge financial strain on my life. It seems significant to me because in the realm of my own experiences, it is a hardship. However, if I were to compare it with the hardships of someone let's say living in Darfur, or who was a victim of the tsunami we had a few years ago, or someone who is homeless, or parentless... My situation seems insignificant and unimportant. It is just a car - just a possession that can be replaced. Should I really be that concerned about it? Should it cause me as much stress and anxiety as it does? Am I being ridiculous for feeling the way I do?

I struggle with this idea of significance because of the hierarchies that exist all over the world... Someone, somewhere, in some time will always have a situation that is worse off than mine - I am pretty sure I will never be at the bottom of the totem pole. However, where does that leave me? How much am I allowed to validate my feelings towards a situaion? Where does one draw the line between valuable and insignificant?

I think there is a lot of guilt that comes with emotions. I also think that religious people have added a great deal to this mentality. I can remember growing up, always feeling pressured to have a smile on my face, and be ready to answer with "I'm great." Just recently, a co-worker of mine answered my "How are you doing?" question with that very answer. I looked at him and said, "Don't lie. It's ok to say you're not ok. You don't have to tell me what you think I want to hear." Another interaction I had was with a 5 year old little girl who was sad that her cousin got a birthday present and she didn't. We needed to encourage her to not throw a fit, but I refused to tell her she couldn't be sad. In fact, I assured her that it was ok to be sad, but that her actions needed to look a little different.

I think so often, we're asked to push past our emotions, and begin the healing process without really ever sorting them out. I'm not sure we even know HOW to sort them out. I know so many people who go to counseling because they've never really been tought how to sort out their emotions. I've never really been taught how to sort out my emotions. And I also think there is a lot of pressure to devalidate our struggles and trials simply because they do not match the dire situations a portion of the world finds themselves in.

I've come to this point in my life where there are a LOT of things going on in my head and my heart, and I'm not quite sure what to do with them. I'm trying to sort out the significant from the insignifcant, and trying to figure out what's valid and what isn't.

Even this blog post...significant, or just some ridiculous ramblings?

kickball

Imagine this: You're outside at recess. There's green grass that's just begging to be played on. Today, it's kickball. The captains are picked, and the rest of the children line up, awaiting their fate. The first two names are picked - they're the fastest runners. The next two names are picked - they've got strong arms for throwing. The next child is picked, then the next, then the next... You're standing there waiting...waiting for that moment when your name is called.

It looks as though your fate will soon be decided. However, you realize, as you look around you, that every other kid has been picked, and you're standing there teamless and alone. You're not the fastest runner, and your throwing skills are sub par. You look longingly at both captains, praying one of them will excitedly say your name and happily welcome you to the team. Instead, you are met with confused faces and an argument about who has to take the last kid standing. You realize that the last kid standing they're talking about is you. Neither team wants you. You're not what they're looking for. You don't meet their standards. Finally, one of the captains reluctantly picks you, just so that the game can begin. But you know, if they had had the option... they would have sent you home.

I hate the game of kickball.

(Image found at http://thinklab.typepad.com/think_lab/images/kickball.jpg)

love

It's interesting how you can find love in unexpected places...

As we head into a day known for celebrating "love" I thought I'd share how I felt "loved" today. They are simple stories - nothing profound - but they are moments that made my heart leap with joy.

I help oversee a tutoring program where I work, working mostly with K5-5th grade. I love them all dearly, and they are some of the greatest kids in the world! Well, today, as I was getting out of my car and heading into work, I saw a group of these children who come to the Mission for a weekly bible study. One of the 5th graders - Q - cheerfully greeted me and came over to give me a hug. Now, you must realize, Q and I have a good relationship - we get along pretty well. But Q is somewhat of a tough kid, someone I never really imagined to be a hugger. Therefore, that hug meant more to me than most hugs. I felt so honored that he had given me one.

Story #2 that melts my heart... L is a 1st grader, and was not able to attend tutoring last semester. However, her mother figured out a way for her to attend this semester after L had been asking non-stop when she could return to tutoring. So, today was L's first day back. She approached me and said, "Miss Tory, I got to come back!" She had such excitement in her voice! I squatted down so that I was level with her and said, "We're so excited to have you back!'' She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a big hug. She said, "I'm so glad you're here!" and I whispered back to her, "I'm so glad YOU'RE here, L!" As we finished with our hug, she ended our interaction with, "I'm so glad we're ALL here!" Seriously... my heart was in one big puddle on the floor.

Story #3 - D was upset about something... I could see it in the way she carried herself, and that she didn't have her normal smiley demeanor. I asked her what was wrong, and she just covered up her face. I bent down so that I could better make eye contact with her, but she refused to let me see her face. Upon asking her a second time what was wrong, she just fell forward, and buried her head into my shoulder. I gave her a hug, and even though I knew she wouldn't tell me what was wrong, I tried to assure her things would be ok. I tried to spark a little interest by telling her we had a Valentine's craft to do... She seemed to perk up a little, but then just kinda fell back into me. I gave her one last hug, and told her we needed to head to her class. She seemed to be doing better, and was willing to join the rest of her class. While this wasn't the most endearing moment, I felt so priveleged to be the one she sort of let her guard down with. Even though she didn't tell me what was wrong, working through it together seemed to help.

The kids were overly affectionate today, and I was greeted with such great excitement by many of them. It made my heart so happy to see them today.

It's so cool to me that even though I don't have someone significant in my life to share this holiday with, even though I've been single for almost my entire life, and sometimes I want so badly to meet someone, fall in love, and get married... That God provides me with other ways of feeling loved and fulfilled. The kids I get to see every week - many that come from hurt and broken families - have so much love to give, it's unreal. Sometimes I'm amazed by them.

And today, they captured my heart!

shoot

I love to shoot pictures. I've always been into looking at photographs, and have even tried my hand at taking them. My love for photography started in high school when I first came across Scott Mutter's photography. I loved how he spliced photos together. I took a class in college, trying to awaken the photographer within me, but mostly, I ended up taking more goofy pictures than anything. These days, I seem to be into it quite a bit more. Unfortunately, I don't have the greatest equipment, or the most patience in the world. However, every now and then, you just gotta push past all the negatives in hopes of gaining something positive. Such was the case on Sunday.

My friend Simon and I have been doing this self-portrait project now for roughly 30 days. We're only 1/12 of the way into it. However, there have been a couple times where Simon has challenged me to other photo endeavors. We did one a couple of weeks ago where we had 5 minutes with our camera to shoot as many photos we could of whatever we wanted. We then had 1 hour to process them (using whatever Photoshop tools we desired) and then had to post them to our Flickr site. It was an interesting project... I didn't realize how hard it would be to shoot really good shots in only 5 minutes. But it was a lot of fun, and I feel I learned a bit.

Sunday was another day for a photo project. Originally, our other partner in crime - Johanna - was supposed to join us, but ended up not being able to. We were supposed to do a photo walk outside in downtown Milwaukee, but seeing as how it was below zero, we decided to stay indoors. Because we couldn't really think of a good location to shoot indoors, we decided to take pictures where we work.

At first, I found it a little challenging to think creatively about the place I see every single day, 40 hours a week. Looking at all the offices, the classrooms, the floors I have to sweep and mop, the hallways I have to vacuum... it's hard to imagine how these places can be artistic.

But, after a while, I started to get into it a little bit more. It turned out to be a fairly fun photo shoot, and I got a couple pictures I liked.

Here are some of the photos I got:

21 down

Well friends, I thought I'd give you an update on the 365 day photo project. We just finished with week 3 - 21 photos down. It's been interesting. There are days where I feel really creative and really proud of the idea/photo I came up with. There are other days where I question if I even have the gift of creativity. There are days where I LOVE how my photo turns out, and there are days where I despise how I look in every single shot. There are days when I am so unbearably tired that the thought of having to take my picture makes me want to cry. There are days when I take so many pictures and have so many ideas, but can only post one shot of for the day.

The thing that I'm finding to be the best part about the whole thing is the relationships I'm building with my other partners in crime - Simon and Johanna. It's been a lot of fun to talk about the project with them. I love having people who challenge me creatively.

And here's probably what I'm most excited about - we're going to be making a book out of it. Like, a real book, not just a scrapbook. Simon's dad has the ability to print good quality books, and we think he'll print us a book. I'm pretty stoked. I'm also going to put together a DVD with all 365 of my pictures together as sort of my "living portfolio" for a year-long art project.

So that's where we're at... We're now entering week four. There haven't been TOO many nights where I've struggled to come up with ideas, but I'm sure as time goes on, it'll get harder and harder.

You can check out our project here:
www.flickr.com/groups/365alive

Or if you just want to see my photos, you can go here:
www.flickr.com/photos/rainofwonder

wait

Dear God,

I've got a bone to pick with you. Ok, maybe not a bone to pick, but I definitely have a question for you. What's the scoop behind this idea of "waiting"? I realize that supposedly, waiting brings growth. That in moments of "wait" we learn a lot about ourselves and about you. It is often times in those moments that we have the ability to gain perspective. However, it is also in those moments that we can become disheartened, weakened, hopeless and faithless. Often times, if the period of "wait" lasts too long, we lose steam. I think about David in the Psalms where it says, "I waited patiently for the Lord, he inclined and heard my cry..." David waited patiently, and you responded. But what about those times where we wait, and wait, and wait... to a point where we think you may not respond? What does a person do when it seems like all they ever do is "wait"? What do I do if I can't wait any longer?

I've had numerous conversations with friends lately about how hard it is to wait - whether it be waiting on a job opportunity, to move into a house, to get married, to find a church, or fill the blank with a plethora of statements. Waiting seems to happen all over the place. We wait to see the doctor. We wait to get healthy. We wait for our tax return to come. We wait to see how a relationship pans out. We wait to feel filled up, renewed, and restored.

But what does a person do when the waiting seems endless - when there doesn't seem to be an end point anywhere on the horizon? What happens when one's life seems to revolve around waiting? How long can one be expected to wait before caving in?

As I said, I don't really have a bone to pick with you. I realize why this concept exists. I understand it's purpose, it's influence, it's challenging nature in order to create something beautiful and good. It builds character. It teaches patience. It helps us to demonstrate faith.

But what if I struggle to wait, and really, am not ok with waiting? Does that mean that I then have lost my faith? Am I no longer considered patient? Am I refusing to have my character strengthened?

Are you frustrated with me when I can't wait? Do you understand why I don't want to wait? Do you know that I while I DO trust you with my life, I don't always understand why you keep certain bits of knowledge from me?

Please know that I love you, and that these are just some of the thoughts that are on my heart. I wish I was ok with waiting. I wish I could be ok not knowing what's going to happen with certain situations in my life.

But, I hate waiting.

I just thought I'd let you know.


(image from www.explodingdog.com)

p&b

As I sat down with my soy chai and power bar, I stared at the blank page in my journal and wondered what I'd write about. It had been such a long time since I had written anything of substance. My journal had been blasted recently with many ramblings and incomplete thoughts. But I wanted to write about something - something specific. As I sat there trying to consider what to write about, a conversation came to mind.

A few days ago, I was talking with a co-worker of mine. Oddly, we were talking about childbirth. The conversation started over an article I read online about kids in Milwaukee who "age out of the system" - kids who are wards of the state until they turn 18, and then are pretty much on their own. I was saddened to learn that nearly 150 kids age out of the system every year in Milwaukee. That means there are a least 150 kids who every year, turn 18 without knowing a home... Kids who's "parents" are paid by the state to look after them, and basically just keep them out of trouble. I was explaining to my co-worker how much I would love to reach out to those kids. For a long time, I've wanted to adopt - especially older kids... the kids who rarely get picked simply because of their age. Those are the kids I want.

However, this then launched us into a conversation about having kids of our own, and whether or not we wanted them. She informed me that she has no intentions of having children of her own. I asked her why... Sickness. Pain. Weight gain. Feeling undesirable. Fatigue. Stress. Not to mention the horrible pain that comes with the birthing process. She said she wanted NOTHING to do with it. I said to her, "But don't you think it'd be totally worth it once you have that child in your arms?" She disagreed... she said, "That's when the crying starts."

As this conversation came back to me, I knew what I wanted to write about - pain and beauty. I've had numerous thoughts on this idea, and that conversation only took it a step further. I am convinced more than ever that the two come hand in hand. With pain comes beauty, and to reach beauty, you must deal with pain. Granted, this is not true all the time, but it seems to be true a lot of the time. Here are some examples.

Childbirth, as I've already mentioned, is a very obvious one. But what about NOT so obvious things. Take a sunset for instance. A sunset is VERY beautiful, but it also provides warmth. Once the sun sets, while beautiful in the process, can create some bitter cold nights, which in turn has the ability to cause pain. Or how about letting go of a child. It's painful to let go, but it's beautiful to watch them gain their independence and go out on their own.

Being in a relationship is another good example - more specifically, marriage. I have a lot of married friends, and from what I hear, marriage is tough. It's full of lots of honesty too, which can often times bring pain. While the unity of one life with another is an absolutely beautiful thing, it takes a lot of work, and even a bit of pain to grow deeply together.

But what's really intersting is the thought that hit me today. I had a good friend ask a tough question of me: "Tory, when are you going to go back to church?" He didn't mean attend church, he meant "When are you going to be a fully committed member of a church community again?" It was a good question, but my first thought was "There's too much pain attached with the church." It was then that my "pain and beauty" musings slapped me across the face. Yes, church is filled with pain - as are a lot of things in life. But it is also filled with beauty... a beauty I'm not always able to see.

I started to think about why the two go hand in hand - why it is that often times beauty and pain come as a package deal. My immediate thought was, "It was because of the fall. We can't enjoy anything beautiful without having some pain to go with it." However, my thoughts soon shifted to another idea. We deserve pain. We chose to screw things up. We decided to sin. We chose pain. However, God chose to still provide us with beauty. Maybe it's his way of showing grace - you know, softening the blow. Instead of saying "You'll have to suffer to see beauty" maybe he's saying "Because you're suffering, here is some beauty."

I was definitely challenged by this idea with regards to the church. Will I ever be able to see the beauty through the pain? Will I ever be willing again to bear the pain in order to find the beauty? I seem so quick to accept the pain that comes with things like childbirth and realtionships. Why can't I seem to push past the pain when it comes to the church?

It'll be interesting to see how long these thoughts stick with me, and permiate my thought life. All I can hope and pray for is for God to show me the beauty amidst the pain.

mars

Today at work, there was a teen girls event going on. One of my co-workers was getting a game ready for the girls where they had to look at a picture of a celebrity and figure out who it was. The catch was that part of their face was covered up, so they weren't totally able to see who it was. She found some pretty funny pictures, and had some great ideas as to what celebrities she should use. The funniest BY FAR was a picture of Bill Gates. She simply covered up the lower part of his chin and neck, leaving most of his face uncovered because she KNEW they would have no clue who he was.

However, as we were looking at a couple of the pictures, I noticed a picture of Spike Lee in her pile. I think she was slightly impressed that I actually knew who Spike Lee was, and when I noticed her surprised, I started to quote the old Air Jordan commercials he was in. "Mars Blackman here with my main man, Michael Jordan." Everyone, with the exception of this co-worker, just looked at me with a blank stare. None of them had ever seen or even heard of the Mars Blackman Air Jordan commercials. I guess I can thank the fact that I had a brother who was obsessed with basketball growing up.

But it made me wonder if I could find the old Mars Blackman commercials. And indeed I could! YouTube came through for me once again!

So, for your viewing pleasure, a little throwback to the old days... Spike Lee - the early years.

thought

No matter how conservatively I grew up, no matter how little my experience, no matter how poor my knowledge, now matter how many fears I have, no matter what I was told to fear, and no matter how much I was taught to fear...

I pray that I am never so scared as to not learn and love to the fullest extent possible. If I die learning and loving, than I believe that I have lived.

365

I'm pretty much an amateur when it comes to photography. Currently, I don't even have my own digital camera (mine is broken, and I need to send it in to either get fixed or replaced). The digital camera I'm currently using isn't spectacular, and my knowledge of how to set up shots isn't great either. However, despite my lack of knowledge and experience, I absolutely love photography, and am always looking for an interesting way in which to stretch myself.

My co-worker and friend, Simon, created a Flickr group called "365 and still alive" that he invited me to be a part of. The goal: Take one self-portrait every day for 365 days. I suppose it sounds a bit narcissistic - only taking photos of ourselves. But hey, at least it gets us taking photos every day. And it'll be interesting to see how creative I can get. I mean, 365 pictures of oneself seems a bit daunting... I'm not totally sure how many different poses, outfits, and locations I can find/create!

But we will see how far I make it. I am only on day one.

You can check out his photo project here:

365 and still alive...

inspiration

I've been lacking a bit of inspiration lately. It's been a long time since I've felt truly inspired. Part of me wants to believe that it's because I've not experienced a lot of things that others have. I've never lost someone extremely close to me. I've never been severely sick or hurt. I've never been without shelter or food. I've never been in love. I've never gotten kicked out of school. I've never been drunk. Never smoked, never done drugs... Never bungee jumped, never traveled overseas, never camped out under the stars when it wasn't a part of some sort of huge campsite. I've never been kissed. I've never been to New York, Seattle, Portland, San Fransicso, or Austin... All places I'd like to go. There are a lot of things I feel like I've never experienced, and in some respects, I feel a bit naive. I feel like I'm missing out sometimes - that everyone around me has some sort of knowledge, some experience, that I've never had, and possibly might never have.

But then I began to think about inspiration, and what it is that inspires people. I realized that I was only looking to the grandiose, only looking in the lofty places, and not the lowly. I've forgetten that truth and beauty can be found in the smallest of things, things to which most everyone has access if only they would look. Things like the smile of a child (which I see lots of every day), someone's laugh, the wind, a flower, the sunset, a look from someone, a kind word... And I believe that even not so beautiful things can inspire as well - like sadness from a fading friendship, cancelled plans or a change in plans, self image issues, a relationship that was desired but never happened, or even just a vague sense of doubt... These are all things that may not be classified as "amazing" or "tragic," but they can inspire, if one is willing to look more closely...

It's so easy for me to focus on the big things I've never experienced. I think sometimes I feel like so much music and literature is chalked full of things like heartache, love, loss, places visted, people met... that I feel if my "writings" don't contain those things, it will not be great or noteworthy.

But I think about how true writers can look at the small things - a blade of grass, a cloud, a piece of art, a blank sheet of paper - and come up with the most amazing and elaborate stories and poems that are full of life and vibrant in color. I've been realizing more and more that I've been so focused on the big things, that I miss the small things.

I was writing out my list of things I want to do in 2007, as well as reading other people's lists. I came to the realization that I have not ever experienced a sunrise. I mean really, truely experienced a sunrise. Where I sit and patiently wait for the sun to peak over the horizon, and then soak in every ounce of light as it is given to me. A sunrise. Something that happens every single day - without fail - and I have yet to experience it. When was the last time I sat by the lake and just watched it? The last time I watched a rain drop as it made it's journey down a window pane?

I realized I have a lot more to experience than traveling overseas, going bungee jumping, and falling in love. There are so many small things - attainable things - I only have to notice, giving me the possibility of great inspiration.

Here's to finding inspiration in the little things.

(pic taken from omar_franc at www.sxc.hu)

welcome

Welcome to 2007.

2007... That sounds so strange. I remember when I first learned of the movie "2001: A Space Oddessy" and thought the year 2001 sounded so strange, so far away...I wondered if I'd ever get to experience 2001. And here we find ourselves in the year 2007.

Ringing in the New Year seems to bring about many resolutions and goals. It is a time of new beginnings. It gives individuals an excuse to start over, and to make things different than they were before.

But another thing I love about the new year is that it serves as a gentle reminder that time continues to move forward. It gives us a jolt, reminding us that life is short, and we ought to live it to the fullest. I love the following quote:

"Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt, and dance like no one is looking."

As 2006 comes to a close, and we've now entered a new year, I think about what new things I will experience. There are things I dream about, things I want to see happen... Things that are exciting, things that are daring, and things that are even a bit unimaginable. I love thinking about all the possibilites this new year holds.

But instead of detailing what I want to see happen, I'm more interested in learning about what you guys want to see happen. Whether it's something you want to see happen in 2007, or just something you want to experience sometime in your life, I'd love to know what it is.

Whether you've been reading my blog for a while, you're new here, you're a good friend of mine, or you stumbled upon this website through a link found elsewhere... I want to hear what sorts of things excite you and what things you're dreaming about as we enter into this new year.

Welcome to 2007... and welcome to new resolutions, new goals, and new dreams.

(Photo taken from user garychrist at www.sxc.hu)