there are a few things lately that have been helping me cling to sanity... here's the list, in no particular order:
flip-flop weather
car trips
cokes in glass bottles
phone calls from people who make me laugh
emails from people who make me laugh
Grace and Peace
Jesus
that clean baby smell
burping teenagers
good mix cd's that never seem to get old
early mandatory bedtime
and this song:
The Sunday after there was laughter in the air
Everybody had a kite
They were flying everywhere
And all the trouble went away
And it wasn't just a dream
All the trouble went away
And it wasn't just a dream
In the middle of the night
We try and try with all our mights
To light a little light down here
In the middle of the night
We dream of a million kites
Flying high above
The sadness and the fear
Little sister just remember
As you wander through the blue
The little kite that you sent flying
On a sunny afternoon
Made of something light as nothing
Made of joy that matters too
How the little dreams we dream
Are all we can really do
In the middle of the night
The world turns with all of it's might
A little diamond colored blue
In the middle of the night
We keep sending little kites
Until a little light gets through--patty griffin
i'm hanging in there, formulating a plan, and getting ready for the next thing. st. julian of norwich said it best, "all things shall be well, all things shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."
--rmg
24 February 2005
22 February 2005
peace in the middle
i read somewhere once that peace is not being in a place where there is no conflict, no disturbances, no disappointment. peace is being in the midst of those things, and knowing in your heart that everything, regardless of what happens, is going to be ok.
these pictures remind me of that. two are of churches in manhattan, the busiest slice of civilization i've ever seen. the bottom one is trinity church, which was a haven for people fleeing the distruction of 9/11. it's spire used to be the highest point in new york city. as you can see from the picture, that is no longer true. but it is beautiful, nonetheless.
the next picture is of st. patrick's cathedral in mid-town manhattan. it's very famous for lots of reasons. i like it because it's old, has tons of historic significance, and has beautiful artwork in it. i have been in a lot of churches, but this is one of my all time favorites. it's quiet, and cool, and wonderful. and the neighborhood around it just seems so serene.
the candles are votives that were lit at one of the side altars at st. patrick's. i can't remember which altar, but since i lit one of them, my bet is that they were in the chapel of our lady of guadalupe. mine is the one in the middle. this is not the best photo i've ever taken, but it's one of my faves.
i'm going to see if i can find a pic of el santuario de chimayo that i took a couple of years ago to post. we'll see. in the mean time, i'm praying for some peace in my heart as i go to a vestry meeting, wherein The Budget will be discussed. oy and vey. i think Jesus wants more money in the youth budget...
big love--rachel
these pictures remind me of that. two are of churches in manhattan, the busiest slice of civilization i've ever seen. the bottom one is trinity church, which was a haven for people fleeing the distruction of 9/11. it's spire used to be the highest point in new york city. as you can see from the picture, that is no longer true. but it is beautiful, nonetheless.
the next picture is of st. patrick's cathedral in mid-town manhattan. it's very famous for lots of reasons. i like it because it's old, has tons of historic significance, and has beautiful artwork in it. i have been in a lot of churches, but this is one of my all time favorites. it's quiet, and cool, and wonderful. and the neighborhood around it just seems so serene.
the candles are votives that were lit at one of the side altars at st. patrick's. i can't remember which altar, but since i lit one of them, my bet is that they were in the chapel of our lady of guadalupe. mine is the one in the middle. this is not the best photo i've ever taken, but it's one of my faves.
i'm going to see if i can find a pic of el santuario de chimayo that i took a couple of years ago to post. we'll see. in the mean time, i'm praying for some peace in my heart as i go to a vestry meeting, wherein The Budget will be discussed. oy and vey. i think Jesus wants more money in the youth budget...
big love--rachel
16 February 2005
hunger pangs
it seems like lately there has been a lot of drama in my life. i don't mean like your garden variety drama, either. we're talking full-on melrose place-esqe drama. work stuff, life stuff, just lots of stuff. people have been breaking up, getting engaged, and every permutation inbetween. a couple of people have even been written off as sorry pieces of crap, and i think we all know that it takes me a long time to get to that point with anyone. as an aside, if you are reading this, and believe yourself to be someone who's been written off, it's probably not you. but you should definately send me something nice, just to make sure.
you are never hungry for humble pie. but God help you from passing that plate when it comes your way. the best thing you can do is just choke the bite, or in my case, the whole freaking pie, down all the way to your toes, praying to heaven that you can just keep it down long enough to learn your lesson. there are days when we take ourselves way too seriously, and days when we don't take ourselves nearly seriously enough. lately, i've been trying not to take myself at all. things have been so muddy, i've just been trying to step back and out, to try and get some kind of a bird's eye view of things. to be honest, i think i'm way too mired in multiple messes to really have any perspective other than my own.
and right now, that perspective is fairly healthy, if not brutally honest, i think. i mean, in matters personal, i have been as honest as i've ever been. and while that got my heart ever so slightly broken, at least now i know that those parts of my heart and mind still work the way they are supposed to. i still have no regrets. not any real ones, at least. the good news-- i know that in six months, this will be a very tiny dip in the alpha waves of my life. the bad news-- it sucks real bad right now. i'm listening to a lot of aretha franklin right now, drinking a lot of diet coke, and blogging like a crazy woman.
in matters professional, i have been honest and aboveboard. i have tried to do the right thing, and for all intents and purposes, that mess is out of my hands. i'm just trying to get through everyday in this forsaken place with some semblance of grace and integrity in tact. and it gets harder every day-- i just keep hanging on because being with my cherubs is one of the things i know i am really good at in this life.
i know that this mess can't last forever. i know that i have done what i can do to make things right. and i know that i have followed "the chain of command" the right way. as for any kind of resolution or denoument, i have to trust that other people will do the right thing. and that is so freaking hard right now, because right now, for all my talk of love and peace and believing in the goodness of humanity, i just don't trust people to make good decisions right now, at least where my well-being (emotionally, professionally, etc) are concerned. and yes, i know that's to do with my control issue(s). i'm working on it, ok?
so, back to the humble pie analogy... humble pie comes to you when you're already full. full of yourself, full of the world, full of everything. humble pie is like an emotional emetic. you have to cram it down your throat and let it sit and fester, and kick everything else out. humble pie leaves you feeling hungry for purpose, just purpose. humble pie leaves you with the bitter taste of your own pride in the back of your mouth, because that's what it makes you vomit up. pride is a fearful thing.
when we are prideful, we are the strongest, loveliest, weakest, happiest, saddest, honest, and decietful bastards ever to roam the earth. humility, true humility, is the greatest gift we can possess. when we are humble, we are honest about our strengths, our weaknesses, our loves and our deciet. when we are humble, we are more able to own our feelings and our actions. being humble dosen't mean moaning and wailing about how sad and empty and pathetic we are, because it's easy to be proud about what a worthless sack of shit you may or may not be, as well. being humble means being a realist-- there are days when we just don't get it, period. we don't get how to be loved, or how to love in return. being humble means admitting that. and that is the hardest admission we ever make. my friend evan reminded me this weekend that the longest distance any of us ever travels is the 18 inches between our brains and our hearts. very interesting, don't you think?
humble pie is my least favorite dish, ever. and i feel like i've just had to eat about a million pounds of it. blah. sometimes we need the pie because we've lost touch with reality, or because we're choking on our own sense of self, for good or ill. and sometimes, sometimes it's just freaking time for pie and that's when the waitress of the universe just hands over a big chunk, a giant plastic spork, and a glass of skim milk and stands over you, snapping her gum and smoking a 120, and yelling at you in the flo voice from "mel's diner"-- "eat the g.d. pie, sweetheart, 'cause we ain't got all day, and someone else needs that booth."
in the finaly analysis, i guess who ever said that what doesn't kill you will make you stronger was mostly right. i mean, the tough stuff won't kill you totally off, and some of what dies and goes away is separating wheat from the chaff. but in the meantime, it kind of sucks to find out if you're getting stronger, or just dying off. gross, i hate that.
but you know, in spite of all of the mess, all the pie, all the drama, i still have this bizarre sense of hope everytime i think about things. i still wake up everyday, hoping that people (yes, even me sometimes) will pull their respective heads from their behinds and be real people. i still wake up everyday, ready for new challenges, excited to see what the day holds. i still love people and their messes. i still believe that people will do the right thing, 9 times out of 10. i know that God loves me, and that none of this is God's fault. that 10th time that people don't choose the right thing is a real dozy... and the universe can keep it's freaking pie.
mil besos--rachel
you are never hungry for humble pie. but God help you from passing that plate when it comes your way. the best thing you can do is just choke the bite, or in my case, the whole freaking pie, down all the way to your toes, praying to heaven that you can just keep it down long enough to learn your lesson. there are days when we take ourselves way too seriously, and days when we don't take ourselves nearly seriously enough. lately, i've been trying not to take myself at all. things have been so muddy, i've just been trying to step back and out, to try and get some kind of a bird's eye view of things. to be honest, i think i'm way too mired in multiple messes to really have any perspective other than my own.
and right now, that perspective is fairly healthy, if not brutally honest, i think. i mean, in matters personal, i have been as honest as i've ever been. and while that got my heart ever so slightly broken, at least now i know that those parts of my heart and mind still work the way they are supposed to. i still have no regrets. not any real ones, at least. the good news-- i know that in six months, this will be a very tiny dip in the alpha waves of my life. the bad news-- it sucks real bad right now. i'm listening to a lot of aretha franklin right now, drinking a lot of diet coke, and blogging like a crazy woman.
in matters professional, i have been honest and aboveboard. i have tried to do the right thing, and for all intents and purposes, that mess is out of my hands. i'm just trying to get through everyday in this forsaken place with some semblance of grace and integrity in tact. and it gets harder every day-- i just keep hanging on because being with my cherubs is one of the things i know i am really good at in this life.
i know that this mess can't last forever. i know that i have done what i can do to make things right. and i know that i have followed "the chain of command" the right way. as for any kind of resolution or denoument, i have to trust that other people will do the right thing. and that is so freaking hard right now, because right now, for all my talk of love and peace and believing in the goodness of humanity, i just don't trust people to make good decisions right now, at least where my well-being (emotionally, professionally, etc) are concerned. and yes, i know that's to do with my control issue(s). i'm working on it, ok?
so, back to the humble pie analogy... humble pie comes to you when you're already full. full of yourself, full of the world, full of everything. humble pie is like an emotional emetic. you have to cram it down your throat and let it sit and fester, and kick everything else out. humble pie leaves you feeling hungry for purpose, just purpose. humble pie leaves you with the bitter taste of your own pride in the back of your mouth, because that's what it makes you vomit up. pride is a fearful thing.
when we are prideful, we are the strongest, loveliest, weakest, happiest, saddest, honest, and decietful bastards ever to roam the earth. humility, true humility, is the greatest gift we can possess. when we are humble, we are honest about our strengths, our weaknesses, our loves and our deciet. when we are humble, we are more able to own our feelings and our actions. being humble dosen't mean moaning and wailing about how sad and empty and pathetic we are, because it's easy to be proud about what a worthless sack of shit you may or may not be, as well. being humble means being a realist-- there are days when we just don't get it, period. we don't get how to be loved, or how to love in return. being humble means admitting that. and that is the hardest admission we ever make. my friend evan reminded me this weekend that the longest distance any of us ever travels is the 18 inches between our brains and our hearts. very interesting, don't you think?
humble pie is my least favorite dish, ever. and i feel like i've just had to eat about a million pounds of it. blah. sometimes we need the pie because we've lost touch with reality, or because we're choking on our own sense of self, for good or ill. and sometimes, sometimes it's just freaking time for pie and that's when the waitress of the universe just hands over a big chunk, a giant plastic spork, and a glass of skim milk and stands over you, snapping her gum and smoking a 120, and yelling at you in the flo voice from "mel's diner"-- "eat the g.d. pie, sweetheart, 'cause we ain't got all day, and someone else needs that booth."
in the finaly analysis, i guess who ever said that what doesn't kill you will make you stronger was mostly right. i mean, the tough stuff won't kill you totally off, and some of what dies and goes away is separating wheat from the chaff. but in the meantime, it kind of sucks to find out if you're getting stronger, or just dying off. gross, i hate that.
but you know, in spite of all of the mess, all the pie, all the drama, i still have this bizarre sense of hope everytime i think about things. i still wake up everyday, hoping that people (yes, even me sometimes) will pull their respective heads from their behinds and be real people. i still wake up everyday, ready for new challenges, excited to see what the day holds. i still love people and their messes. i still believe that people will do the right thing, 9 times out of 10. i know that God loves me, and that none of this is God's fault. that 10th time that people don't choose the right thing is a real dozy... and the universe can keep it's freaking pie.
mil besos--rachel
14 February 2005
happy sts. cyril and methodius day!
ha ha, betchu thought i was going to use the three words most disliked by bitter single people everywhere: happy valentine's day. gotcha. no, cyril and methodius were brothers, one was a monk, the other was a bishop. both helped to write down the language of the slavic people in an alphabet (cyrilic, anyone?) and taught the gospel in the native tongue of the people whom they were evangelizing. very cool, no?
as for the other important part to this day:
did you know that during roman times, feb. 14th was the day when birds supposedly paired up for the spring mating season?
the feast of the lupercalia began on this day, as well. remember that from "julius ceasar"?
everyday is special if you fill it with love. and yes, chocolates and candy hearts, big balloons and stupid stuffed plush whatevers are nice to get. it's nice to set certain days apart. but love and the people in your life who give it and recieve it are the better than the mess and drama that can go with making the perfect dinner reservation, or sending the best bouquet of flowers, etc.
end of rant.
mil besos--rachel
as for the other important part to this day:
did you know that during roman times, feb. 14th was the day when birds supposedly paired up for the spring mating season?
the feast of the lupercalia began on this day, as well. remember that from "julius ceasar"?
everyday is special if you fill it with love. and yes, chocolates and candy hearts, big balloons and stupid stuffed plush whatevers are nice to get. it's nice to set certain days apart. but love and the people in your life who give it and recieve it are the better than the mess and drama that can go with making the perfect dinner reservation, or sending the best bouquet of flowers, etc.
end of rant.
mil besos--rachel
beating on the door
thursday night was a good night. not only did i get 15 hours of mostly uninterupted sleep (i say mostly because i woke up twice to drink water, and once to get rid of the water), but i got to attend an incredible youth community night at Youth Advocates in Houston. you can read all about that organization at www.youthadvocates.org they are very nice people, by the way.
at any rate, i was at the YA office for three hours on thursday night, and even though i'd been up since 5:45 that morning, i was totally riveted. there was breakdancing, skate boarding, an mc contest, and of all things-- chess. a group of like 80 kids gets together at the YA office once a week to just be together. they dance, they skate, they play chess, they eat pizza, and they are loved. it was incredible to see all that happen-- no programming, no fabulous pretty room, no overinvolved crazy parents (quite the opposite, i'm afraid, for most of them), no bells or whistles-- just those kids, in their space, doing their own thing-- drug free, violence free, and just happy to be there. it was incredible.
watching them dance, watching them skate, hearing them rap, and seeing them play chess in the midst of all that noise and action was incredible. they were amazing. some of the kids who dance at YA are internationally known breakdancers. i even got to watch them battle! it was so different and exciting from anything i've ever seen before. i felt refreshed, inspired, and happy just to know that a place like that existed in the world.
life is good.
love--rachel
at any rate, i was at the YA office for three hours on thursday night, and even though i'd been up since 5:45 that morning, i was totally riveted. there was breakdancing, skate boarding, an mc contest, and of all things-- chess. a group of like 80 kids gets together at the YA office once a week to just be together. they dance, they skate, they play chess, they eat pizza, and they are loved. it was incredible to see all that happen-- no programming, no fabulous pretty room, no overinvolved crazy parents (quite the opposite, i'm afraid, for most of them), no bells or whistles-- just those kids, in their space, doing their own thing-- drug free, violence free, and just happy to be there. it was incredible.
watching them dance, watching them skate, hearing them rap, and seeing them play chess in the midst of all that noise and action was incredible. they were amazing. some of the kids who dance at YA are internationally known breakdancers. i even got to watch them battle! it was so different and exciting from anything i've ever seen before. i felt refreshed, inspired, and happy just to know that a place like that existed in the world.
life is good.
love--rachel
08 February 2005
shrove tuesday 2005
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-13
.
The people to whom Jeremiah is speaking had been in exile for many years. Faith seemed to be fading fast, and from the way Jeremiah talks, there were many who were looking for answers anywhere they could find them—from false mediums, false teachers, false prophets, and false doctrine. For the exiles, I’m sure that any answer at all, to any question at all, would have seemed a tender mercy—a ray of light upon which to cling in a dark time and place. But out from the darkness of the Babylonian Captivity comes God’s voice through Jeremiah, asking God’s people to be faithful, and promising that by searching for God, God will be found. God promises new hope, a new future, a renewal, restoration, and a gathering of all that had been scattered. God doesn’t say how, and only gives a general when, but the promise and answer to questions is there just the same.
My good friend Sandy Johnson had a plaque in her kitchen, just above the sink. Upon it were the words, “The will of God will never lead you where the grace of God cannot keep you”. That very idea is presented in this Old Testament reading. We don’t always understand from where or why the dark times come, but we know that God not only promises to restore us, but has hope for us and our future. That is amazing to me—that God has hope for us all—even in the face of war, bigotry, and deceit. God has hope for us, even when we see the world or life through a hopeless lens. Thanks be to God.
Lord Jesus, my Brother, my strong Companion—Grant me the grace to know that your will is better than my own. Thank you for your promises that exceed my want and my imagination. Thank you for your hope in me, and your hope in the world. Give us the will and the strength to have hope in and for each other. AMEN
.
The people to whom Jeremiah is speaking had been in exile for many years. Faith seemed to be fading fast, and from the way Jeremiah talks, there were many who were looking for answers anywhere they could find them—from false mediums, false teachers, false prophets, and false doctrine. For the exiles, I’m sure that any answer at all, to any question at all, would have seemed a tender mercy—a ray of light upon which to cling in a dark time and place. But out from the darkness of the Babylonian Captivity comes God’s voice through Jeremiah, asking God’s people to be faithful, and promising that by searching for God, God will be found. God promises new hope, a new future, a renewal, restoration, and a gathering of all that had been scattered. God doesn’t say how, and only gives a general when, but the promise and answer to questions is there just the same.
My good friend Sandy Johnson had a plaque in her kitchen, just above the sink. Upon it were the words, “The will of God will never lead you where the grace of God cannot keep you”. That very idea is presented in this Old Testament reading. We don’t always understand from where or why the dark times come, but we know that God not only promises to restore us, but has hope for us and our future. That is amazing to me—that God has hope for us all—even in the face of war, bigotry, and deceit. God has hope for us, even when we see the world or life through a hopeless lens. Thanks be to God.
Lord Jesus, my Brother, my strong Companion—Grant me the grace to know that your will is better than my own. Thank you for your promises that exceed my want and my imagination. Thank you for your hope in me, and your hope in the world. Give us the will and the strength to have hope in and for each other. AMEN
05 February 2005
sometimes there is a "yes"
it's no big secret that life has offered me more questions than answers, especially over the last couple of months. who am i kidding? i have about 8 million questions at the moment, and am trying to figure out an answer to at least three of them.
a couple of weeks ago, i had a conversation with one of my nearest and dearest, who seems to be standing in solidarity with me, in terms of existential angst, at the moment. we were talking about what we each thought we needed to get through this period. kind of like when you can't go to sleep, sometimes, you can think of your favorite place, etc. and at least be able to get some rest. i thought-- God, if i can just find something beautiful to look at, or be a part of, or hear about, i'll be ok. and you know what? i finally got an answer.
jacob conner nels was born at 8:08 pm, on Groundhog's Day. he's the newest member in a long line of friends who have become family. new babies are beautiful things-- they represent the best of hope and love and potential we all possess within us. i can't wait to just watch him grow-- watch his parents grow into even more incredible people than they already are.
beauty comes in all shapes and sizes-- in strange ways, too. when my grandparents moved to new braunfels this summer, they brought a whole big tupperware box full of pictures, letters, and telegrams. looking at those pictures was beautiful. i saw pictures of when my grandfather was a marine, and had a private room. he had all sorts of pin-up girls in his room, but above his bed, you could see a picture my grandmother had sent him, set apart from all the rest. he still has that picture. seeing the telegram my grandparents sent to tell their families they had finally run off and gotten married was beautiful. it's nice to know that after almost 53 years of being married, they are still such good friends, and have created beauty in their wake-- after all i'd be a horrible child if i didn't say that the most beautiful thing they created was my mother. happy birthday, momma.
life is good. still lots of questions. still no real serious answers. but there is beauty, and that is enough.
mil besos--rachel
a couple of weeks ago, i had a conversation with one of my nearest and dearest, who seems to be standing in solidarity with me, in terms of existential angst, at the moment. we were talking about what we each thought we needed to get through this period. kind of like when you can't go to sleep, sometimes, you can think of your favorite place, etc. and at least be able to get some rest. i thought-- God, if i can just find something beautiful to look at, or be a part of, or hear about, i'll be ok. and you know what? i finally got an answer.
jacob conner nels was born at 8:08 pm, on Groundhog's Day. he's the newest member in a long line of friends who have become family. new babies are beautiful things-- they represent the best of hope and love and potential we all possess within us. i can't wait to just watch him grow-- watch his parents grow into even more incredible people than they already are.
beauty comes in all shapes and sizes-- in strange ways, too. when my grandparents moved to new braunfels this summer, they brought a whole big tupperware box full of pictures, letters, and telegrams. looking at those pictures was beautiful. i saw pictures of when my grandfather was a marine, and had a private room. he had all sorts of pin-up girls in his room, but above his bed, you could see a picture my grandmother had sent him, set apart from all the rest. he still has that picture. seeing the telegram my grandparents sent to tell their families they had finally run off and gotten married was beautiful. it's nice to know that after almost 53 years of being married, they are still such good friends, and have created beauty in their wake-- after all i'd be a horrible child if i didn't say that the most beautiful thing they created was my mother. happy birthday, momma.
life is good. still lots of questions. still no real serious answers. but there is beauty, and that is enough.
mil besos--rachel
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