A pirate's life for me...sorta...

It amazes me the connection between one's stomach and emotions.  Thankfully I've never been a stress eater. I don't binge on comfort food when I'm sad or lonely, or eat a bag of chips and other various junkies when I'm bored. I'd say that's a pro. The con, however, is that I'm on the opposite end of the spectrum. When I'm stressed, sad, or lonely I don't eat at all. My appetite vanishes completely and is instead replaced with imaginary feelings of sickness. Unfortunately, as I finish up week Two of Eight of waiting for my Coastie to graduate boot camp, my appetite hasn't returned. I'm forcing myself to eat. I get excited when I realize that I'm actually hungry but after just a couple bites I feel like I can't eat anymore. (Just so you know, I am not one to usually pass on an opportunity of being fed, so this is an unwelcome circumstance) I am actually a wee bit scared that my desire for food won't come back until I can om-nom a cheeseburger while sitting next to my beloved.  I actually am recalling a line from POTC #1: 

"The drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths..." -

-Captain Barbossa 

That's...pretty much it. Everyone tells me that these bootcamp weeks will fly by...and when looking back on these last two weeks, I'm not sure where they went. But it's living through the weeks that seems to drag on. I'm not angry he's gone. If anything I feel guilty and selfish for wanting him to come back now, or to have never left. I keep reminding myself that this is a good thing. This is a challenge, one that we will get through and come out of stronger at the end. 39 more days. I can do this. I'm just gonna set mini goals to make the weeks ly and give myself little projects to work on and look forward to. Who knows, maybe i'll make this one of those projects. 

Sigh...39 more days...

Now that she's back in the atmosphere...

Well, I'm back. And boy, what a trip...

It was an adventure. I relaxed. I ran around. Had some nice late night talks curled up at the kitchen table with a mug of tea. Had some crazy days spent hurrying here and there, never staying in the same place for more than a couple hours. I hung out with old friends, feeling like family. I met crazy awesome new people. I spent about 50 hours of my life on a train and am now pretty familiar with Amtrak...there and back I had a lay over in Chicago, and so was privileged to roam around the beautiful Windy City with 3 amazing dudes.

I left with little expectations, hoping to maybe just quiet my soul, listen to God, and visit my friends...and if God happened to nudge me in any direction, that would be awesome too.
I returned with a lot to think about.
While I was there opportunities arose. Internships came up. Chances to shadow at salons. As well as missions opportunities.

And ever since I got back a feeling has been growing in me...something that's always been there that now is spreading. I've never really been able to describe it, and it's frustrating. But the other night I was having a conversation with one of my best friends. One of those conversations that fall under the "If I don't get out of here soon I'll be stuck here for the rest of my life, that I don't know what I'm doing with anyways" category...I'm sure you have those all the time...

We talked about jobs. We talked about monotonous life. We talked about restlessness...We talked about senioritis.


Finally I tried to put this feeling that I had into words and it came out like this:

"...Do you ever get that feeling like...let's see if I can describe it - 

like, you were made for something more? That growing up, finishing school and getting a job and routine just wasn't what was intended for you? That you were created, not for something mundane and monotonous, but for something truly breathtaking and extraordinary? Cause...that seems to be how I feel. And like that desire for the extraordinary is trying to claw it's way out...like it's suffocating at the thought of never getting to see the sun...or maybe I just have to much of an imagination...?"

So...yep. That's where I'm at right now...perhaps this was a nudge in a direction...guess we'll see. 

The Bean*

*(I have now seen The Bean, one of Chicago's great works of modern architecture I am told...but secretly I'm pretty sure it's an idol to the Americans love of coffee...see for yourself. ;) )

Just call me a starving artist

I've hit an imaginary wall. My spirits are low. My clients are few. My paychecks...nearly non-existent. They told me that starting out would be hard, and I believed them, but it's never felt that way till now. The past three weeks I have felt useless, something I despise greatly. My hands have been idle as I watch my people doing what I love all around me, instead I sweep hair and wash towels.

It's funny to me, how independent I have become. Yet, I find my dependency on God to have grown equally. It's very hard for me to look at life when it gets like this and then to look at God and say, alright, I trust you to provide and take care of me, and to wholeheartedly believe it without any doubts in my mind. I'm not a control freak, but there are some things,( like clients, income, etc.) that could I control them you bet your aunt's hat I would. The fact that I have no control over how many people will sit in my chair this week keeps me uneasy, and thankful for those who do continue to keep coming back.

Surrendering is hard for me. I have always been a DIYS, take care of myself, kinda girl. And even though I've seen and experienced God's provision first hand...it's still difficult to say HELP. So, I guess I'm calling this drought of sorts another lesson in trusting and depending.

Thanks to all of you who return to me time and again, you keep my spirits afloat.
And thanks, God, for being so faithful when it's hard for me to be just that.

to read, or not to read...is that a question?

Hello people of the blogging kingdom, it has been a while. How were your holiday festivities?

Our Christmas here was small, but I came away with a few gems. One of them is the book that I am currently reading.

[MUD&POETRY

love, sex, and the sacred

by Tyler Blanski

"Singer songwriter Tyler Blanski lends a poet's perspective to what a single, Christian person...finds compelling and sacred about sex, love, God, and everything in between. Humans are both mud and poetry, Blanski tells us, living out of both biological and emotional needs, base desires and soaring aspirations. His memoir reveals a young Christian wrestling with this age-old truth."

PRAISE FOR MUD&POETRY

"Can a young single Christian guy write a great book about sex and marriage? Tyler Blanski has done it! This book is fun but practical, very well-written, with a wonderful lyrical rhythm. Even an old fart like me, married for thirty-two years, found it helpful." - Nate Larkin, founder of the Samson Society and author of Samson and the Pirate monks(and an old family friend :)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

"Tyler Blanski grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He graduated from Perpich Center for Arts Education(2002); studied at the Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, Oxford, England(2005); and holds a bachelor of arts in Christian Studies from Hillsdale College(2006). He is a co founder of Venite Ministries, a Christian spiritual formation resource and retreat center in Minneapolis, and co founder of the Couch Society, a theological forum and journal.

In addition to Mud and Poetry, Tyler has written three other books (including a book of poetry) and released two albums: Think Out Loud: Music Fighting Homelessness and Out from the Darkness. He lives in Uptown Minneapolis, where he manages a small house-painting business, Rembrandt Home Painting; participates in the communal life of an Anglican church; and writes. For more information, visit Tyler's websites: www.mudandpoetry.com or www.tylerblanski.com."] - From the back and inside of Mud&Poetry.

I'm not all that far into the book, but I'm hooked on his writing style. He's personal and humorous. Almost like an old friend you're very comfortable with who is just sitting in a cushy, overstuffed chair in your living room having a nice cuppa coffee with you. I like how he talks about his subjects, that always seemed to be viewed as really taboo, with curiosity, and musings that are just...normal, almost in a thinking-out-loud sort of way.

Not much, but there you go. I wanted to share, so I did. Go read it. Think about it. Chew it over....You don't have to like it, but I thought you might like to see what I'm reading. :)

Responsibility, what's that?

A couple weeks ago, my college friends started to come home. Now, more or less, they're all done and here. Next week is also my brother's last week as well as my two youngest siblings and pretty much everyone in the continental U. S.
Next week is also the start of my summer vacation. And the week after that? I go back to school. Just one week? Yuppers, that right. As much as I love cosmetology, I picked the wrong profession as far as summer vay-k's are concerned. See, all my friends who are in college right now get/got a four year transitional period into the shedule I call "real-life-adultness". Summers off from from school, but slowly wheening it away with a job here, some extra work there, maybe having a not so conenient work shift but still, summer.
I've seemed to have bipassed that. Sadly. After I've graduated, I'll be working, and apparently stylists have the tendency to become workaholics. I guess if you're loving what you're doing it's not really work right?

Now, if you know me, you've probably had your ear talked off about my school and the interesting people I've met there. I you have then you've heard me talk about the Guggliottis, the people who own a salon by the same name, as well as my school.
This Friday(6•11•10) I have a job interview with them. This is a pretty big deal. Although I'm only applying for a receptionist position, they almost always offer aspiring stylists in that position, an assuring position. After assisting(shadowing stylists and learning the ropes) you become a stylist.
Now this is a verrryyyy high end salon owned by THE WORLD DIRECTOR OF COMPETITION. if I get a receptionist job here, even if I decide not to go on to assisting, if that position is offered me, I've still got my foot in the door of hairworld, and made very good connections with people in high places.

I'm excited. Very much so, yes. But i'm nervous as a person could be. Never done an interview before. Don't know what to expect...

So those of you who will, pray for me? I'd really appreciate it. I'll keep y'all posted.


- Posted from emikel's iPhone -

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

singing is a way of prayer

It's been a while. Sorry :)

Last night at about 12:30, or early in the morning I suppose you could say, I was up late journaling and listening to music when the lyrics of the song being sung hit me. It wasn't just the lyrics though, it was the fact that the song was not just music and lyrics put together to praise the Lord, but a prayer. And so I did what I do nearly every time I find a song that sparks something in me, I write out the lyrics. And as I wrote, I prayed. I sang the lyrics aloud as a request to my God.

That's what David did. He wrote his Psalms and he sang them in prayer. So I've made this song a psalm of my heart.

Take my life, and let it be Consecrated, Lord, to Thee; Take my moments and my days, let them flow in ceaseless praise, let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love; take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee, swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice and let me sing Always only for my King; take my lips, and let them be filled with messages from Thee, filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold, not a mite would I withhold: Take my intellect, and use ev’ry pow’r as Thou shalt choose, ev’ry pow’r as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will, and make it Thine;It shall be no longer mine:Take my heart, it is Thine own;It shall be Thy royal throne, It shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour At Thy feet its treasure store:Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee, ever, only, all for Thee.