we have longer than what the calendar says...right?

We've barely started summer and already I'm realizing how quickly certain things are approaching. In June we had two weddings in one weekend to plan for and look forward to.  Two weeks later we celebrated fourth of July...though I still feel like that shouldn't have happened for another couple of weeks. This Sunday I anticipate hopping on a plane by my lonesome and heading out west where I get to spend the next week driving back east with my dear heart as we move him from a-school to duty station. Once we're back on the east coast there will only be 6 more weeks until our big day.

And just like that, the realization of just how little time we have left is hitting me hard. The anticipation of getting on a plane by myself (I'm not a huge fan of flying) is giving me a little anxiety...but I know for a fact that my prize at the end of about 9hrs of traveling is worth it's weight 10X over in gold. And the experience of driving across the country is one that I have always wanted to have, and will remember for the rest of my life! And honestly, how can I complain when I'll have his company all to myself for about a week. These will be the last moments we get to spend with one another before another short separation, followed by the hoopla of family descending upon our houses and wedding craziness and then moving craziness.

My brain is a little on overload right now. Anticipating things such as finishing up at my job and leaving them down one stylist in a very busy salon, putting the finishing touches to all the wedding plans and wondering if we're ever gonna fully be done, getting through the wedding, and then moving my whole entire life down Cape Hatteras, NC.

To their credit, some members of my family are pretty good at consoling me when i'm on the verge of an overload. But the only person who I really want to be consoled by, and who really can calm me down completely, is on crazy schedules making him mostly unreachable by phone during most of the day, and very much so out of my arms reach all the time.

I find myself missing silly little things like getting ice cream or driving to wendy's at 12:30am with him, and watching miscellaneous sitcoms we stumble upon and becoming die hard fans! I miss just driving do mundane places like the grocery store, with my feet on the dash and singing along to silly songs. Basically, I miss life with my best friend, and as we get closer and closer to our big day, it gets harder and harder in the "I miss you " department.
Like when you start to picture your significant other as your phone...oops.

60 more days, and counting!!!!

whoever told me this would be fun, lied.

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to actually have fun planning a wedding, to be excited about the whole thing. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to get married, I really am! It's all these silly little details that I could pretty much care less about. I am opinionated on various things, but for most parts of my life I am very laid back. So I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed, pretty much since the beginning of all of this hoopla, as the flood of questions has hurled my direction.

Do you have a date?
How did he do it?
What are your colors?
Do you have your dress yet?
Is it a princess fit?
How about your girls?
Will you have a big bridal party?
What do you mean your parties might not match numerically?
Who is your caterer?
Photographer?
Where is everything gonna be?
What do you mean your parents aren't paying for the wedding?
How are you gonna manage to keep the guest list to 100 people?!?

And then there's all the little details! My mother, sister, and I went over to a friends house last night. My mom has asked her to help make cup-cakes for the little refreshment reception we're having during the receiving line portion of the ceremony. And of course there were more directions and questions.
How are you going to set up? Where are you going to put the receiving line? Have you thought about your timing in all of this? What about gifts, where are you putting gifts?
I get to points where I think most everything has been figured out and we don't have to worry too much...and then this happens and a whole new can of worms is opened up and I go to bed crying.
I finally just handed all of this over to my mother, who loves planning. I said, look, I've made the major decisions about what day, where it's all going down, what every ones wearing, designed and ordered invites, and took care of the menu...other than any of that, I really don't care what anything else looks like. You take care of it, cause I've checked out.

It was kind of a weird thing...and the more I think about it the more I wish I had eloped and it was all over. The truth of the matter is that I miss my guy. Were he here, on this coast,  in this time zone, and preferably in the same state as me, I'm sure that there would be a little more bounce and excitement to all of this. But he's not. He's 3,000miles, and 3 time zones away. And he will be until the wedding, pretty much. In a way, I guess it shows that I'm not a crazy bridezilla. That all this hoopla is not just a showy, hoe-down. It all means that it's the marriage I'm longing for, and not just the wedding. Not the dress, and the shoes, and the hair and make-up, and the crowds, and congratulations, and flowers and all of that attention. I'd be more than happy if everyone just showed up in nice attire and ate pizza and drank homemade cocktails in my back yard and danced under the stars and just had a simple nice time....

I think of that day and all I see is his face, his smile, his crinkly green eyes. Looking at me with an extreme mix of happiness, excitement, and fear. All I can see is this amazing man that I'm in love with, and all I want to do is pledge myself, give him a smooch, take his hand, and run for it!
Getting married, to me, means finally starting a life with this guy, my best friend of 18yrs,(who I haven't seen much since June of 2014, which has been a painful and strengthening experience)actually getting to go where he goes, and see what he sees, and make a house a home and put both our personalities into it(instead of his mattress on the floor in the corner of a space, white-walled apartment) Yes, that house may only contain me for months on end sometimes, but that is also just part of it. I have no delusions that this will be easy. I can't tell you where we're gonna be living by the end of this year, I have no idea. I can't tell you if he will be out at sea for 3-5 months at a time, or home for dinner every night. But I do know that when he's home, he will be home with me, not home and 3,000 miles away. When he's home, there will be much hugging and smooching and rejoicing instead of now, where there is sporadic texting when he ha time, the occasional phone call when we catch each other at the right time for our time zones, and the even rarer Skype date...wifi service permitting...

It's gonna be hard, I know that. But being a little closer will be easier on my heart. I know that, too.

4 Months, 3 Weeks to go....

December

You know when you've had a very full and exciting couple of weeks and then you hit that wall where everyone just goes back to school and work and normal life and everything seems all too quiet?
That is where my life is at the moment.

About two weeks ago my favorite man made port back in the good ol' U.S. of A after nearly 3 months  of sailing around the coasts of south and central americas. He was able to snag a couple extra days of leave so he could visit with us before he made a road trip across the country (the purpose being to get his car from the east coast to the west coast. 3,100 miles). After being apart for a lengthy amount of time the two of us were pretty inseparable. I cannot even begin to describe the amount of butterflies one might find in their tummy that spread through every inch of one's self.

Nearly a week after his return, his leave almost up, the two of us went out for a fancy dinner date. It was lovely, seeing as it proceeded a day full of dead car batteries, replacing alternators, and failed front and rear breaks...followed by a trip made up to Springfield College to drop off a car for G's sister. (let me tell you, it is difficult to drive a car in a very fitting sheath dress, stockings, and heels. Even without the heels, my stockinged feet slid all over my pedals.) And pardon me while I say, A POX UPON THE MAN WHO DESIGNED THE HIGHWAYS IN Mass AND HIS DISBELIEF IN ON/OFF RAMPS.
Anyways. By 9pm we finally reached our restaurant of choice...but something was off. It wasn't the food, or the entertaining karaoke, or the service. It was him. What was off, I couldn't tell you, but something was up. And so, despite being absolutely starving on the ride over, I lost my appetite as I always do when something is making me anxious.
Later that night I discovered what all the jitters were about as a band of delicate diamonds was slid onto my finger.
That was Tuesday. Friday he and his dad left for Oregon. Thursday night was probably the hardest and most painful night's I have ever experienced. Most of the evening was spent in silence, just holding each other and wanting to let go, knowing that when we did that meant it was time to really say goodbye. Finally as 3am got closer and closer, we sat up from our resting place and through trickled tears that escaped their confines we said our goodbye. So many goodbyes and "I love you"s. Over and over and over. Anything to prolong the parting. My throat was tight with emotion, and he even had wet trails on his cheeks where rogue tears had found themselves. He was barely out my bedroom door when I exploded and my dam tears broke. It literally felt as if my heart had been torn out of my chest. G told me not much later that he was quite a mess himself. He had been so upset, that he for left his beanie (one that I had made for him while he was underway) behind in my room. And the realization that he had forgotten the hat made him even more upset. From the moment I gave him that hat when he got home, to the moment he sat down in my room for the last time, that hat barely left his head. He loved it.

It is amazing to me how strong an emotion love is, and how much it can totally wreck you in different ways. My mind is continually blown.
Every reunion becomes sweeter than the last, as equally every goodbye becomes even more heart wrenching.

Finally, our men were off on their 3,100mile adventure, and the rest of us started to prep for Thanksgiving and the return of college bound siblings.  It was good to have them all back just days after my newly acquired Fiancé's depart. As always, his sister and my brother gave us an endless supply of lightheartedness, strange body noises, and side splitting laughter. All that overflowed into the weekend. But that couldn't last forever. Sunday came and went, and so did our college kids. Later in the afternoon, my sister, mother and I went over to my mother-in-law-to-he's house for coffee and a talk about where on earth to get started on wedding planning. This will certainly be an interesting combination of stressful and fun.

And here we are. Monday. Everyone is back at school, at work, and on their cutters. And here I am at my kitchen table, sipping my cold coffee with a million thoughts whirling around in my head and no one to hold me tight while I fall apart...again.  (Which I could've used while writing my silly paragraph about goodbyes.)

It feels good to have a projected date...but, that date is just under a year away...which feels like eternity, with few visits in-between.

Dead Man's Cove, Cape Disappointment, OR

Bear Lake, Utah

Melancholy Fiancee, CT

Time didn't stop...

Yesterday we were up before 5:00am so that we could drop off our Coastie at the airport. Poor guy was supposed to land in Portland around noon(their time. about 3 our time) but got stuck in chicago for like 2hours while they changed a tire on his plane. 

I started my summer with goodbyes and tears, and I ended it the same way. Gregory if off on the complete opposite side of the country, getting ready to sail up and down from Alaska to South America and all over, and this will be his life for the next 9mo or so until he leaves for a-school. I really am very excited for him and this grand new adventure. So much of this new chapter is still a bit of a mystery to him. A lot of questions have been answered with "I don't know yet." "They can't tell me." "I'll find out when I get there."  And the questions keep coming! Only now that G's gone they are all asked of me to answer on his behalf....and I have no clue.   

I feel barraged and smothered with inquiries from both people who are not close but just curious, and my own family members. No words have been exchanged between us in over 15hrs, and I'm not even sure when they will be.  I can not guarantee that the next person to ask me when I'm moving to Astoria, OR, or when I'm getting married will not be punched in the face...or cried at. or both.  I'm an emotional time bomb who hasn't yet had a chance to cry this time...so watch out. 

I like My Body...

And now, a small break from Coastiness to read a little e e Cummings. Because, yes.

I Like My Body When It Is With Your

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

e. e. cummings

Puddle Pirate Update

Today, Alpha 190 is nearly half way through week 05. Their latest update, , has been tough but looking up as the recruits have had a higher bar set for them by their CC's and have set the bar higher for themselves as a company as well. It seems they are striving to be a unit and not a bunch of individuals. Going back over past updates it is clear that even though they still have a ways to go and grow, they have coma a far way. Everyday I miss my puddle pirate a bit more, and every day I wake up knowing there are fewer days between us and graduation. In the letter I received last week he mentioned that when we watch him graduate he must maintain a professional military persona during the tour of the facilities and everything that follows. There will be no more than brief hello hugs until we are loading ourselves into cars to drive back home. I will be so happy just to see him graduate after months of missing his handsome face, but knowing that I can't smooch him like a wild woman until very long after we have departed Cape May, is gong to drive me bonkers. Even then, finding time when I am not sharing him with his family and friends will be very difficult, but I am determined to make that happen as much as possible. 

Twenty-Three-More-Days

"I have been in the Coast Guard all me bloomin' life. My father was King Neptune, my mother was a mermaid. I was born on the crest of a wave and rocked in the cradle of the deep. My eyes are stars, me teeth are spars, me hair is hemp and seaweed. When I spits, I spits tar, I's tough, I is, I am, I are!!"

-A-190's week04 Mantra, as given to them by Chief Arseneaux 

I always joked I'd end up with a "Pirate"

"SR Logan, G. A-190"

My "Puddle Pirate", as they're sometimes called, is finishing up week 03 of boot camp. The days drag on, but the weeks fly by. How does that work? I have no clue. But we're nearing the 1/2 way mark. Only 35 more days until the graduation ceremony.  Every week or so a recruit from each company writes a short blog post on the events and progress they have been experiencing, as well as stress and yelling. Here is where you can read all about G's company, Alpha 190, and the latest "adventures", or misadventures, they are having. This is just the first post...I don't know how these guys get through this...I certainly would never be brave enough, and I am incredibly thankful for them.

Thirty. Five. More. Days.

Happy 18 months!

{Warning: relationship post}

(Current Mental Soundtrack)

It's been an interesting 18 months, that's for sure. And what I've learned is that time is a really weird thing. It still boggles my mind how so little time (in the grand scheme of things) has passed, and yet it feels like forever.

It boggles me that we can go from being this...

Pumpkin picking in Oct. of 1999 (8years old)

To this! in what feels like the blink of an eye. And yet there's so many years, so many memories. And I have to say, this boy has filled many a year and memory of mine and I would have it no other way.

Ocean Beach summer of 2012 (21 and 20yrs old respectively)

He's my best friend and has seen me at my best, and my worst. He's seen me in elegance, and in fits of weeping hysteria and he's still here.

I'm excited and anxious to say that my beloved has a meeting with his CG recruiter on Friday and I am trying very hard to shush the selfish part of me that wants to scream "Don't go! Stay with me!" I keep reminding myself that this is a good thing for him, and good thing for us. That it's a new chapter, a new adventure. But this silly, grinning face has always lived no more than 10 minutes away from me for 15 years. I've grown accustomed to, and have been spoiled by seeing him so often and not thinking twice about it. 

But I know that once the separation comes it wont be forever.

Harry's place after the beach, summer of 2013 (22 and 21 respectively)

G with the uke on ocean beach. '13
(Current Mental Soundtrack)

Sunset on a lake in New Hampshire. July 4th.

And it's all the the adventures that are to come after that separation that I look forward to...together.  

"We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain..." Hebrews 6:19

Sometimes...I wonder if I'm dreaming...

SPOILER ALERT: the following post may contain slight lovey-doveyness...if you don't mind such content, please continue on. If you do mind, well...it's short, and you'll get over it. Sorry ;)

I'm in love with my best friend. Childhood sweethearts, almost, I suppose. For the past 14 years we've grown up living no more than 10 minutes from each other. We shot cap guns, wore ties as cat tails, played with play mobile, pretended we were star wars characters, ran around in the woods and imagined we owned a chocolate factory, escaped a flock of vicious wild turkeys...the list goes on. Every once in a while, my mind wanders back into our childhood years, and brings me up to the early days when we realized there could be more than 'friends' here. And when this happens, my heart is warmed and the realization that I've fallen in love with my best friend slaps me silly... all over again...a realization thats not getting old, and quite frankly, never fails to put a smile on my face.
I thank God for this peculiar treasure of a man I call "my love".

Emily Michael's Ruby Red Slippers

That's right, I bought them. After about two years of eyeing these red beauties I finally broke down and purchased them. I know, I know, these "TOMS" are the current shoes of the modern 'Hipster'...but I am NOT a hipster (that's what they all say...but believe me...I'm not.) But even if I were, even if I would be buying them in an effort to conform to nonconformity and to look cute, the fact that somewhere in the world another person is receiving a brand new pair of shoes simply because I bought this pair kinda trumps the cuteness and nonconformist factor. Of all the 'fads' to follow...this one really isn't the worst. And I figured after two years, since I haven't stopped secretly wanting them, I should just break down and get them or else I'll walk around for another two years looking at pictures, sighing heavily, and annoying my family.

And as it turns out, Febuary 3rd is National Wear Red day...or something of that nature, guess I'm covered. What'll you sporting?

This is What LOVE Feels Like

Today on FB, one of my friends - an avid blogger by day and super classy lady all the time, whose blog (Out of My Alleged Mind) you can find HERE! - posted this link to one of the many blogs she's found and follows. Maybe it's the fact that I've known a few people with cancer. Maybe it's because I know how attached people can be to their hair, and the significance that cutting it can have. Or maybe...I'm just human and tender, but something in this story made my heart ache and my eyes water. (I've always told my close friends that if they ever got cancer and lost their hair, I would cut mine too.)

This is What LOVE Looks Like:

imperfect prose on thursdays: the day i cut my dreadlocks

This is my Therapy

"And you're kept in an open cage, So you're free to leave or stay.Sometimes you get confused, Like there's a hint I am trying to give you."

"talking bird" by Death  Cab For Cutie

Poorly drawn picture...by me.

I believe I've mentioned before about how much I love road trips, and have joked about having a touch of gypsy blood in me. I've expressed my restlessness of being in one place for too long (even though I always come back home.) I've talked about my longing for adventure and how I've made due by trekking through the rain and creating crazy story plots inside my head. 
And so...I find myself yet again feeling those stirring desires in my heart to go on an adventure and travel far far away...
I thought about it for a while, weighed my options, bounced thoughts and opinions off of close friends, prayed, and drank more than my outrageously large quota of coffee. 


The fact is, I still have no job. Let me reword that. I have no stationary job. No salon to call 'home', and not because there's a lack of salons or opportunities. When the Velvet Touch and I parted ways, somewhere in me, I felt peace. It was an odd and unexpected thing to feel upon losing a job. 
An opportunity for a stylist position in another salon arose, and I pursued it, but something about it just didn't feel right. It's hard to explain, but I couldn't shake it. Nothing came from this pursued position. But here's the beauty of it. My job doesn't have to be stationary! I can take it with me wherever I go...which means I can travel :) 


And so, after some deliberation, I have decided to go on my adventure. Finally. 
I have nothing that's holding me here. I have no salon to report to. No major responsibilities to look after. No relationships tying me down. So, I ask myself, why not? 


I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm a curious soul. Travel is a therapy to me. Staring out a window, watching the world pass by at blurring speeds, my mind seems to process things clearly. And so, I've purchased a train ticket, and next Sunday I begin my journey. To where? The Midwest. Kansas City, Missouri. Why? Because I have good friends out there (They're in the middle of an adoption, check them out and see how you can help contribute HERE!), and they belong to a church that I've been wanting to visit.


And so, I'm running away. Because I can. 

"I never thought I'd be driving through the country just to drive

With only music and the clothes that I woke up in

I never thought I'd need all this time alone it goes to show

I had so much yet I had need for nothing

But you

This is just therapy

Let's call it what it is

(Not what we were)

With a death-grip on this life always transitioning

This is just therapy

Cause you won't take my calls

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening to me

Letting it all sink in

It's good to feel a sting now and again

I hope it's one less woeful thing there is to fight through

Forgetting it all begin

Fresh paper and nice expensive pen

The past can not subtract a thing from what I might do

For you

Unless that's what I let it do

Loneliness and solitude are two things not to get confused

Cause I spend my solitude with you

I gather all the questions of the things I just can't get straight

And I answer them the way I guess you'd do

Cause this is my therapy

Cause you're the only one that's listening to me

This is my therapy

Let's call it what it is not what we were

With a death-grip on this life that's in transition

This is my therapy

Cause you won't hear me out

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening"

I tend to sing this when I start to get restless and need a road trip...so, on a pretty regular basis.

And may the odds be ever in your favor

What would you do if one day you were taken from your home, thrown into a massive outdoor arena with 23 other people, and told you weren't aloud to come out...unless you were the last one alive? What would you do if the only provisions you were given were the clothes on your back? If you had to brave the elements with no shelter, and the little supplies that was up for grabs must be taken along with the life of its previous owner? What would you do if you had to go through all of this knowing you would be on a screen, viewed - every second of the day and night - by the whole of your nation?

Well? 

A few weeks ago we had a massive snow storm (freak natural disaster in the middle of October!) that knocked the power out in most of Connecticut for a week or more. During that week I spent some time with my friends Reagan and Sophia. Sophia stayed at my house for most of that week, and with her she brought a new book. The Hunger games. She was hooked, and had devoured most of it in just a day or so. At night we would have story time, reading by the soft glow of a lantern. I was hooked. The intense and violent story of this girl was crazy! My eyes went wide and adrenaline started pumping as Sophia read aloud and I imagined the reckless and life threatening situations. The power came on, and she left my house before she could finish the book, but days later it was handed to me, in much rougher conditions then when it had first appeared at my house. 

I sat down immediately with this beloved and dog eared story and began some word devouring of my own. It was terrific. I read the last paragraph and was mentally gasping for air, physically running back in forth in my kitchen mumbling "What! NO! It can't end! No! Where are the keys? I'm going to buy the next book NOW! I HAVE TO!" with my sister standing by the counter, shaking her head and giving me the "You are crazier than I give you credit for." look - yes, she has a particular look for that thought, I receive it often.

But, before I finished the Hunger Games, I poisoned her mind as well, reading a chapter out loud to her before bed. Now that I am done with it, she carries it around. Disappearing into the world of Panem as often as possible. Eleanore! The girl who doesn't read anything! The girl who sticks her nose up at every book I have suggested EVER! My mother and I are shocked, but happy. I was also happy to find out that my library was carrying copies of the next two sequels and that I was able to check them both out at once. 

The Hunger Games    *  Catching Fire    *      Mocking Jay

On top of that, they are also making a movie! As always, I'm a little wary of people taking such an awesome book and putting it on film, but, as previews tend to do, the trailer looks amazing.

Doodles in the afternoon

- Posted from emikel's iPhone -

Coffee Shop Romance

It is a daydream of mine to have a date in a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. Somewhere artsy, and eclectic. To sit there in comfy chairs tucked away in a corner, holding hot drinks in our hands. Spending hours talking, chatting, smiling, dreaming, reading, enjoying each other until the world outside of the windows has gone dark, and any dredges of our drinks are cold. It's a simple day dream. Not impossible. But very pleasent. Then I found this music video...and it made me smile.

If I don't have love, I am nothing.

Love

[luhv]

-noun

1 - a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

2 - a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or Friend

...

4 - a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart

...

9 - affectionate concern for the well-being of others

...

12 - the benevolent affection of God for His creation, or the reverent affection due from them to God...

So, Valentines day. A day for husbands to be uxorious, for wives to love and be lavished, for boyfriends to buy their girlfriends flowers and teddy bears, and children to eat gross little hearts that say the sweetest little things on them....right? If that's what you think of when you hear "Valentine's Day" then you have a very shadowed, very dumbed down, very commercialized idea of what this 'holiday' is really about, and how it got here, what it stands for.

"You mean, you don't think of these things when you hear 'Valentines Day'?"

Well...no. Not really.

Naturally one can't help but have images of rock hard conversation hearts and roses pop into their minds, but I don't think about these things because that's not how the story goes.

It all started with St. Valentine. If you don't know who he is I suggest you go to my friends blog, she just did a wonderful post giving Valentine's life story:http://mynameisnotking.blogspot.com/2011/02/hi-im-isabella-and-im-holiday-killjoy.html.

Long story short, St. Valentine was a bishop in 207 AD who believed that marriage was created by God, he lived in a Rome ruled by the emperor Claudius, who banned marriage due to his troops missing their families.

But Valentine, in secret, was performing marriages. The bishop was found out and Claudius had him jailed and eventually executed, but not before befriending the jailer's blind daughter who was miraculously healed and converted. With her sight she was able to read his good-bye note to her, signed "From your Valentine". (Here's where you have an ah-HA! moment)

This man died because he would not deny his God, the man died for love.

When I think of Valentine's day, I think of this; I think of why we love. We love, I love, because God first loved us. If you don't believe me, go read the bible. I do not say this in a "Jesus loves me, this I know..." Sunday school sort of way, although that is kinda what it is... it is no less as real as what I know.

Between Genesis and Revelation lies a passionate story of love, betrayal, lies, absolution, teaching, learning, death, and resurrection. And no, this story is not G rated.

We were created. That how it starts out, we were created to walk with God. We Disobeyed Him, and were punished, but the love never went away. Years and years go by. Generation after generation sees the same thing: We love, we run away, we are wooed back. Love. Run. Wooed.

Repeatedly we were distracted by some idol that became a god to us, and our God would become jealous. The idol would be destroyed, we'd repent for our idol-affair, and be reminded of the great love we ran away from.

Many times we are compared to whores...how does that make you feel? At one point God had his prophet Hosea marry a prostitute, to represent to us the church's marriage to God.

"Find a whore and marry her. Make this woman the mother of your children.

And here's why: This whole country has become a whorehouse, unfaithful to me, God."

Hosea 1:2

"And now, here's what I'm going to do:

I'm going to start all over again.

I'm taking her back out into the wilderness

where we had our first date, and I'll court her.

I'll give her bouquets of roses.

I'll turn 'heart brake valley' into 'acres of hope'.

She'll respond like she did as a young girl,

those days when she was fresh out of Egypt."

"At that time" - this is God's message still -

"You'll address me, 'Dear husband!'

never again will you address me, "My slave-master!'

I'll wash your mouth out with soap, get rid of all the dirty false-god names,

not so much as a whisper of those names again...

And then I'll marry you for good - Forever!

I'll marry you true and proper, in love and tenderness.

Yes, I'll marry you and neither leave you nor let you go.

You'll know me, God, for who I really am.

On that very same day, I'll answer -

I'll answer the sky, sky will answer earth,

Earth will answer grain and wine and olive oil,

and they'll all answer *Jezreel.

I'll plant her in the good earth.

I'll have mercy on '*No-Mercy'.

I'll say to '*Nobody', 'You are my dear Somebody,'

and he'll say 'You're my God!' "

Hosea 2:14-23

*Jezreel, No-Mercy, and Nobody were the names of the three children that Hosea's wife had...

Verses are taken from the contemporary translation: The Message.

If you want to understand this better, I suggest you read Hosea yourself. I also suggest that you start in Genesis...then read 1&2 Samuel, and Judges, and Psalms, and Proverbs, and Song of Solomon....and Luke, and John, and Hebrews, and Revelation.

You may not like what I just said, and it probably isn't what you think of this 'holiday' at all.

But that's ok. When Valentine's come to mind, I think of the love my God has for me, and the great and painful lengths he went through to show me his love, and how much more so he wants mine in return.

And to me, it is a beautiful thing.

*******

...of course, getting flowers and candy and hugs and kisses aren't such bad things either ;)...

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters...

Last week was a hard one for me. Filled with life drama, job drama, dramadramdramallamadrama. I had been hit with to much allatonetime and my brain didn't know what to do with it.

I fretted for a while, worried a bit, freaked out some, and then...I gave it to God.

"like a bridge over troubled waters, I will ease your mind."

I gave him my worries and concerns, and I realized how much He has given back.

He has provided me with a loving family, who mourn with me, and rejoice at the upcoming opportunities with me, and talk me out for Liquid Comfort.

He has provided friends who have genuine care for who I am, how I'm coping, how I'm not coping, and love to LOVE me(and give me hugs, which I desperately needed, and still need...but not as much).

He has given me a chance to look at other salons. And a guarantee that my former employment, and schooling will not be scoffed at. He has given me a talent, and eye for color and beauty.

A list of Salons, the names of their owners and numbers, and recommendations from the Gugliottis.

He has given me a heart for people. (And on occasion, their drama.)

He has given me hope. He has given me love. He has given me peace. He has given me freedom.

And though I am still sad, and asking "WHY?" to a bunch of things, I am accepting it all, and learning to do so with a glad and open heart.

I feel vulnerable and a bit confused, but I'm learning that that is a part of life and there are ways to use those feelings.

Today is, hopefully, the day I start calling salons...and you know how I feel about phones....

Let the hunt commence! ONWARDS!

Dear uncle screwtape - a quotable

A book I'd like to share with you is The Screwtape Letters, by C. S. Lewis. Yeah, that's right, the narnia guy. In case you don't know already, Lewis has quite the collection of books to his name. All of them are filled with quotes of wisdom and truth, thought provoking substance. The screwtape letters is a book about a senior demon, screwtape, who is writing letters back and forth with his nephew, wormwood, a demon in training. The quote I'm sharing with you is just one of the many that amaze me. Bear in mind that the 'enemy' and 'Him' refer to God.

Do not be decieved, Wormwood.
Our cause is never more in danger
than when a human, no longer desiring,
but still intending to do our Enemy's
will, looks around upon a universe from which
every trace of Him seems to have
vanished and asks why he has been forsaken,
and STILL obeys.


- Posted from emikel's iPhone -

You won't relent until you have it all

This post is really me reflecting to myself. It has a point, but may come about in a round-a-bout way because that's how my mind works, the dots may not even connect. There's alot of stuff going on up there.

But on my mind today was the day I received the revelation of love.

I've grown up in a christian home. I had no problem with Christianity, but not alot of understanding either. I accepted Christ as a small child not for fear of eternal separation of God, but for fear of where I'd end up. I continued to go to church with my family, not to worship or listen to what people had to say, but because there were snacks in Sunday school and after it was over I could play with my friends. As I got older some things became clearer and I started listening to the sermons, but nothing was alive to me. I could see that there was something there, something that lit up my parents and some of our friends but I just didn't understand.

Early on in the decade my father took a trip with a few friends from church to a place out in Kansas City, MO called IHOP (the International House Of Prayer). He returned excited and refreshed and brought music with him. That was the year we were introduced to Misty Edwards, Julie Meyers, as well as many other artists who live out there. And like he does with most of his music, he played it obnoxiously loud, the kind of loud where your ear-drums explode and and start gushing blood from exposure - probably where I got my love of loud music - but there was no appreciation for this new material.

As you know, I love music.

"As has been established previously, I like music. I can't live without the means of listening to it, whether it be by playing an instrument, listening to a CD, spacing to my friends jamming, or (if I'm desperate, or alone :) singing. Music is a very powerful thing. What you listen to subtly influences your thinking, behavior, world view, the way you view relationships, whether you're apathetic or empathetic towards certain things. There is something in music that literally permeates your soul. " - http://coloring-theworld.blogspot.com/2009/12/confessions-of-closet-addict.html

Somehow I did end up listening to one of these new cd's at a tolerable and understandable level of volume, and just like that, something grabbed me. They sang these beautiful words with such passion and truthfulness that I couldn't help feeling something. I felt it, but still didn't understand it. A year or so went by and another trip was made to Kansas City, this time by my mother and her friends. By now contemporary christian music had made it's way into the house, though my parents were a little hesitant of what I was listening to - funny to think of them back then, they're over it now and actually enjoy some of the stuff that I bring home :) Mom brought each of us back a little something - I got The Beautiful Let Down cd(by switchfoot), and again I saw the excitement and rejuvenation awakened in my parents.

Another year or so went by and my parents sat me down. It was my turn now. There is a conference we want to take you to. Onething 2005.

This conference is named after Psalm 27:4 ~ One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple.

We left early on a 5am flight out of Bradley. We were joined by three of my dad's friends and their eldest kids. We got there, checked in to the hotel, and went right over to the conference. It was a long day. The worship was raw and loud, and I could feel the bass in my body. That first night Mike Bickle spoke on the end times, now that topic woke me up. Imagine this little 13 year old listening to a man talk about Revelation, and Jesus' return and all that will happen. I was pretty freaked, but intrigued. This was real. Again I could see the passion with which these people lived.

The conference continued and things changed in me. I was being drawn in, woken up. I heard the leaders talk about fasting, praying, worship. About being closer to God and getting to know his heart. I started to realize that that was where I wanted to be. The second to last day of the conference is one that I'll never forget, the day I found my breaking point.

The speaker spoke on God's love for us, of the reason he created us and the lengths he went through to get us back. Misty got onstage after that and started to sing one of her (then) new songs. I can't really describe it. My soul was full with the revelation that He loved me. ME! Tears were shed, bonds were made, understanding came, longing, aching, and yearning for more started and has never stopped.

Love.

Love is what was missing, what I wasn't getting. It was love that gave these people their passion and zeal, their drive. The sense that I wasn't my own, that I had been bought with a price. Graphted into a family and position where I did not deserve to be.

Music.

Since then music has really been a comunicator and reminder of this great love. Actually the reason for this post started out as a single line from a song stuck in my head, but I couldn't remember the song that it came from. And, as it happened, as I kept trying to think of what song it was I thought of pretty much everything I just posted - there you go, my round-a-bout brain :) I finally found the song. As I Go Down, by Relient K. Here's the line that was stuck in my head plus whatever :) :

"Any control I thought I had just slips right through my hands, While my ever-present conscience shakes its head and reprimands me, Reprimands me. Then and there I confess. I'll blame all this on my selfishness. Yet you love me, And that consumes me, And I'll stand up again And do so willingly. You give me hope, and hope it gives me life, You touch my heavy heart, and when you do you make it light. As I exhale I hear your voice And I answer you, though I hardly make a noise. And from my lips the words I choose to say Seem pathetic, but it's fallen man's praise. Because I love you, Oh God, I love you! And life is now worth living If only because of you, And when they say that I'm dead and gone It won't be further from the truth. When I go down I lift my eyes to you. I won't look very far Cause you'll be there With open arms To lift me up again. To lift me up again." - When I Go Down, Relient K

"I can finally see, that you're right there beside me. I am not my own, for I have been made new. Please don't let me go, I desperately need you!" - Meteor Shower, Owl City