Life as I know it.

Observations:

For 2 weeks I've driven 52 miles per day, all in rush hour traffic. It has left me with a solid two hour time slot to process through my life and all of it's changes. After only 14 days I'm flooded with lessons, observations, and challenges. I was thinking about the list on my way into work just today and thought I should start writing them down. So, here it goes:

1. I CAN wake up before 8am. At 6:30am my alarm goes off and I open my eyes to the sun coming up over the hills - I may become a morning person.

2. Sunrises just might be better than sunsets. I feel like they're one of God's most awesome creations and I've missed out my whole life, until now.

3. Food is necessary, taking lunches feels weird. I've left at 5pm grumpy more days than I haven't all because the only sustenance that went into my body was an extra large thermos of leaded coffee. I think I will keep protein bars in my purse.

4. Time is hard to come by. 40 hours a week, 12 units, sleep, eat, shower, and laundry pretty much consume my life. Throw the holidays in there, add a few extra pounds to the physique, and I'm looking for wonder woman to come and teach me her secrets.

5. Traffic...suc.. teaches. Traffic teaches. It teaches patience. For as long as I sit still enjoying my coffee and singing along to some tunes, those few hundred yards where you pass 50mph on your speedometer are glorious. I never appreciated that when I could cruise at 70+ all the way to Irvine.

6. Pick a lane. The first few treks down to Lake Forest (my new work home) were spent moving over to this lane, then to the other, and back again. Hey, they were moving in that one, so I switched. Any time I switched, it only took me longer. Last Monday morning I picked a lane and stayed there and sure enough, I made it in less time. Maybe it's a poor correlation but all I could think of was how we all do in life what I did on the freeway my first half-week. We keep moving around to things that look better, never committing to something and sticking with it. This happens most often in relationships. We see something that seems to be better, we switch, only to find out it faces equal challenges - if not more. If only we had just picked a lane and stayed there! May our eyes not wander to the right or left, but remain fixed on the path before us.

7. I have amazing friends. I feel like I learn this again and again. With all of the chaos, changes, and challenges that life seemed to have dropped by my doorstep in the last year, they have been there. I'm convinced that all man needs is to be known and loved - by God, and his fellow men. I can't imagine where I'd be without them.

8. I still enjoy my work. My first boss was the best - extremely wise, market savvy, ethical, and fun. I really owe it to her for getting me started in Real Estate. It was a sad day when I left. 2.5 years later I left another job that I loved and a boss who had become so much more to me than a colleague. I cried in public when I quit. Yikes! I left her to venture down to South county and begin a new adventure at Fitzpatrick & Prince. I'm 2 weeks in, and I am happy to report that I have been blessed 3 times now. It's really incredible knowing that you work for a company you'd recommend to others without a second thought - one that is innovative and successful, one where the relationships are built on trust, and where the team is the focus rather than the individual. I'm excited about the near and distant future.

There are countless more that linger in my brain. This will suffice for the time being.

*sigh*

September 11th - We will never forget.

I remember waking up 8 years ago. I was living in Chino Hills, CA and had just finished getting ready to head off to school with my sister. Drawers in the bathroom were closing and I heard my mother yell, "Kids, get down here right now!" She never really yelled, so we ran. I will never forget what I saw that day: My mom sitting on the couch folding socks and pajamas, but for a moment she just held two in her hands and stared at the television. We sat down on the couch and watched the replays of the first tower being hit. I get chills down my spine just thinking of it. It didn't look real, it couldn't be real. I remember wanting to cry, but also wanting to understand. I felt helpless and worried.

A few minutes later, after we had thought the damage was done, the second tower was hit. Horrifying.

We went to school a few minutes later with the radio on. In every class that day there was a TV and we talked about how we felt about what was going on in our country. I thought we're being attacked. What if LA was next? I still can't remember why we went to school - life went on that day, and it kept going on for another 8 years.

As scared as I was for my safety, I never once felt alone. For the record: I love my country. I love that freedom is our foundation (no matter how far we've come from that point). I also love that in a place where we technically are free to do as we please, and treat people as we see fit, kindness is still praised and love triumphs. I never felt alone. I knew that no matter who attacked, we'd fight back. WE'D fight back, as one. We did, and here I am today, 8 years later telling about it.

Praise God above for the lives that have been lost to fight for my safety, for our safety. Forever September 11th has changed how I look at the world, it's a lens I put on almost daily. There are enemies abroad, and truly there is evil that is present in this world.

So to all of our fireman and woman, policemen and women, and every branch of the Armed Forces: Thank you. Thank you for saving our lives daily, thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you to their families who let them go every day to fight for us - people they have never met. Truly the life you have chosen to lead is one far more virtuous than many.

May we never forget this day or the lives that we lost.

What did I miss?

Today I realized I missed it. I missed a moment. I missed a window of opportunity.

I’m a ‘moment’ kind of person, if you didn’t know that about me. I think it’s part of the reason why I take so many pictures of life. I am afraid of missing moments, and it’s those that mean so much to me. If I could capture every one, I would. I love considering each one as it’s own entity, with it’s own significance and it’s own meaning. I guess I figured somewhere along the line that because I love moments so much, I wouldn’t possibly miss them, especially the big ones. Then it made me think of how many things I do in fact miss in life.

Really though, how often do we miss our flight, how often do we miss saying goodbye? Have we ever wished we had said something to a stranger? I hear echoes of people saying “did you see that?!” where inevitably I had to reply “no, I missed it!” Maybe it was the perfect shot on goal in the championship game, maybe it was the incomplete pass, 4th down, 2 seconds left in the game on the 1-yard line. Maybe it was a shooting star, or a child’s first steps.

I remember being in Jr. High wondering how to tell a boy that I liked him – what a dilemma! You’d talk with your friends, come up with a great plan, only to find out that he started liking some other girl because she told him before you did. Life was over – for maybe a day, or a week depending on how cute the guy was. When you’re 12 that is a pretty big moment. I missed it again.

As silly as some of those things are, some of the things we miss in life are so poignant, so very necessary. The fact of the matter is, they may not ever come around again. Life isn’t A’float Sushi in Pasadena, CA. Sushi floats by on boats. If you saw something you liked but it passed by, it’s sure to be back again.

All of this to say, I’ve missed some moments lately, and I’ve watched many other people do much of the same. The difficulty in it all is whether or not those missed moments were meant to be missed, or if it was negligence on my part. Most often it’s the latter, and my head falls into my hands as I wished I would have done something different, or done anything at all.


The only kind of remedy I can come up with is to live boldly. Fear is what keeps me still, it’s what keeps me quiet. The way I see it is, I’ve already missed out on too many moments because of some ridiculous and intangible feeling. I think I’ve missed enough.

A few I didn’t miss:

Friday:

I sat in our conference room to get some info from a new client. We chatted, and then we stood up to leave. For some reason I had assumed that he was tall – not so. The look on my face couldn’t have been good when I stood to find him more than 5 inches shorter than I. I was totally caught off guard – I am sure he was by the look on my face.

Saturday:

As I stood in the line at the OCC bookstore I watched as people placed their books on the counter, handed the cashier their plastic, sign and walk out. She kept the same script until I walked up. When she took my American Express she laughed and said “Hey! You’re my first American Express today!” I’m not sure what about it made her face light up – but it did, and mine did too.

Sunday:

I sat at CPK across from a pretty great person. I tore off the paper from the tip of my straw and blew the other portion off and hit him straight in the eye. I felt like a kid. I spend the rest of the lunch laughing so hard my stomach hurt and tears were starting to form. It was the best lunch I’ve had in a long time.

I think I love moments because they can’t be undone. (As much as I hate that the ones you missed can’t be undone either). No one can take them away, they are ours to have, to remember, to enjoy. I plan to do just that.

The joy that new life brings.

I remember thinking on my birthday that the year that had come and gone had been one of the more difficult ones I've made it through in my short life.

There have been days recently where I have felt haunted by expectations, and more so my inability to live up to them. It's strange, I just realized, to be writing during this particular struggle, as I most often write post-struggle when I've pulled out some sort of meaning in retrospect.

I write to you today without an answer, and perhaps without any one specific conclusion, but rather as a fellow soldier, struggling to win another battle.

I do know one thing as of yet - and that is that there are small things in life that help us to remember that it is so much more than the struggle, so much more than the issues - It has everything to do with people, with life, and most importantly, love.

Holding my niece, Audrey Elizabeth is my beautiful reminder of our dependance on our Savior and the grace He has for us, His beloved. I don't believe he could have created a more beautiful creature.

It's been a Summer of struggle, a Summer of new Life, and a Summer of love.

I will share soon.

"A Friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature."

I have been thinking about my friends lately - mostly about how grateful I am for the role they play in my life. Without them, I wouldn't be known.

They hug me even when I don't want to be hugged.
They make me whole-wheat cookies when I've had a long day.
They tell me that they love me.
They still tell me that they love me when I show my true colors.
They disagree with me.
They support me.
They make me laugh.
They make me feel included.
They cry with me.
When they see me cry they think no less of me.
They challenge me.

They pray for me.

After studying interpersonal relational communication for 16 weeks - I have a small grasp on relationships and really, how difficult it is to be a part of a good one. I've learned that there are a lot of people who have no idea what it is to be 'known' by someone. It hurts my heart to even begin to imagine that kind of loneliness.

I am known by God, and my friends are the tangible reminder of what it is to be known and loved - unconditionally.

I pray that I can in some way be to them all that they are to me.

I was watching this video... and it made me smile.

The subtle 'oh my gosh' from Ashley is classic - gets me every time.

To fight or not to fight

I feel alone on the battlefield. If I look behind me I can see that my home trench is so far away there can be no turning back. When I look ahead I see my opposition, ready and waiting. Am I a warrior? I stand with a combination of old and new armor – some areas are thick and others thin. At each connection my flesh shows bare. I have no shield; my defense technique often proves itself lacking polish and precision. I feel paralyzed. I have never been to war.

There was a time, long before now, that I considered myself a fighter, tough, able to remain composed in the face of uncertainty. Today, today I am a little girl who recognizes her small stature and her lack of confidence. It is the same little girl who questions what one should fight for. Principle or relation?

I wonder if there might be a chance for some kind of a truce, before the battle even begins. I’ve watched other wars begin, and end. I’ve seen their devastating effects and wonder how such an outcome could ever be avoided?

Researchers have yet to identify the single event that marked the beginning of the unrest. I myself have pondered at length the many stories in history that have played a part in the dilemma that remains today.

Our mouths are our weapons. Our rhetoric, our ammunition. We protect ourselves with armor made of knowledge, conviction, and truth. Our shields ward off emotional biases and faulty interpretations.

I’m alone. What exactly am I fighting for, or is it fighting against? I am sure of only one thing: I am opposed, if even ever so slightly, from every side. I have found myself straying from every camp. I am free of associations and could possibly only be claimed by the ground occupied by my feet at this very moment.

While I haven’t been trained for such an experience, I have decided that I can’t spend the rest of my life making exceptions or giving excuses. No man’s land is no place to call home and it is certainly not a place to find peace and solace.

So I’ll go forward, knowing full well that I will be pierced where my skin shows bare and that going to war means risking life.

Death

Death has troubled me in the past couple of days in different way than before. I've felt indescribably angry at those whose thoughtless wrongdoings have handed death to another. I think, "Why couldn't they have waited just three seconds longer, why couldn't they have just not gotten in the car just this once?" I don't know what to do with such death. I cannot find a reason, and I love reason.

The moment my anger subsides, my knees go weak and all I can think is that I am that thoughtless drunk driver. With every sin, with every unwholesome word, thought, or deed, I crucify Christ again, and again. Daily, my sin hands death to another, death to my Savior.

As much as I struggle with death, ultimately, it is the only thing through which I find my source of life. Christ's death has given me life (Isaiah 53) and in turn I must die to myself, daily, hourly, always - to participate in the life and Salvation He brings.

O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.



Psalm 51

51:1 Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!

3 For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
4 Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
and blameless in your judgment.
5 Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
and in sin did my mother conceive me.
6 Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being,
and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.

7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
8 Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones that you have broken rejoice.
9 Hide your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
10 Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
11 Cast me not away from your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
and sinners will return to you.
14 Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God,
O God of my salvation,
and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness.
15 O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
16 For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it;
you will not be pleased with a burnt offering.
17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

18 Do good to Zion in your good pleasure;
build up the walls of Jerusalem;
19 then will you delight in right sacrifices,
in burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings;
then bulls will be offered on your altar.

Whilst I study for my mid-term tomorrow...

Anytime someone inquires about my field of study in school I chuckle inside. I wonder if I tell them they will instantly know so much about me. I can’t even count the number of people who have said that whatever it is you study in school is what you personally need the most help with.

I study communication in relationships – this semester more specifically in intimate interpersonal relationships, and philosophy. (Yikes! Don’t tell anyone!!) I will tell you right now that I am no professional. More than not being a professional, with all of my recent-found knowledge on the subject, it makes relationships too easy to whittle down to a science. With this ability I can put off grief, sadness, joy, and challenges. The thought itself makes my heart sink.

I feel more humbled in recent weeks not only working through challenges, but in letting go of my tendency to put off ‘feelings’ in general. I may ‘know’ a handful of things, and I just might have some good conflict resolution advice to give, but I need to be constantly reminded that as much as we can measure relationships, as much as we can research and solve issues – every relationship is made of real people, real risks, real feelings, and real love.

Sometimes I think of education like a ladder, the more we know, the higher we get. In my field, the problem is that somewhere along the way you realize that your feet aren’t on the same ground as everyone else. I always think, boy, what a great thing to study – communication in relationships – I’d like to think it will make me a better wife, mother, daughter, friend, and Christian. While it all sounds wonderful, the challenge, I believe is to stay real through it all. I don’t want to look back twenty years from now thinking that I had only become an unfeeling robot living the textbook to relational communication.

Life’s a journey, isn’t it? I appreciate the mornings when the sun is shinning far more than I used to. That’s progress for me. ☺

Images of Virtue

I want to possess wisdom. In fact, I’d like my life to be marked by being wise – amongst many other things. I desire to make right decisions – consistently. I long to love others – perfectly. I long to know God – in such a way that only comes from a participation in the divine life. All virtues are summed up in the last – I believe, for I cannot truly be wise if it be not a Godly wisdom. I cannot make right choices if they be not from a Godly conscience. I cannot love wholly if my love does not pour directly out of Christ’s love for his Church and for all men.

The disheartening trend today is for men to exercise an image of virtue without knowledge of God – the creator of virtue itself. The experience of such an exercise is far from what it was designed to be. The desire for wisdom stems from a desire for self-exultation and recognition. The attempts to make right decisions exist only to skirt consequences. The longing to love others ‘perfectly’ is merely done as an act of Karma. “I will love another, so that they will love me in return.”

I cannot assume that those who continue to act in part have a longing to know more, nor can I assume that if they were to come to know more would they choose to embrace it.

I long to be wise, just, loving, and Godly. Where I am in the spectrum of things – I am certain I am incapable of judging.

This I know: the trend of empty virtue seems to prove itself not conducive to achieving the expected outcome of true virtue. Why, you ask? I would argue that most would agree that loving only in hopes for love in return is not true love, and in fact strayed very much from the definition of love itself. Also, that wisdom acquired for personal gain does not produce an outcome indicative of true wisdom. A wise decision for personal gain will come out at the expense of another. One cannot make a right decision if their understanding of rightness/truth is concerned with the consensus of the masses – for the crowds will lead them astray. One cannot become Godly if he does not take part in the life of God himself.

I wonder what those men would say if I told them that we can love without being loved in return. We can possess wisdom for a cause greater than our wretched selves. We can make decisions that are right and true whose only consequences are those that refine our souls if we allow them. What if I told them they too could, in fact, know and be known by the God who created wisdom, justice, and love?

No one can ask for more than this: To take part in the triune God – creator of heaven and earth, incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary to be crucified for the sins of the world.

"How long will I wander before I really know"

‘Future’ used to be my middle name. My life was planned out from high school until parenthood. I knew where I would go to college, where I wanted to begin my career, the flowers I wanted at my wedding, how many kids I’d have, and whom I’d marry. I remember thinking that the future seemed better than the present – it was exciting, new, and mysterious. The mere fact that it was unknown allowed me to make it exactly what I wanted. Anything that seemed to alter my plans as life progressed threw me into a whirlwind – typically accompanied by anxiety. How can I do ‘x’ if ‘y’ didn’t come through? What next? I despised those times of uncertainty.

It seemed that a self-starting attitude and a goal oriented mindset made the most sense for a kid like myself. We have a lot of dreams – and we are fairly consumed by meeting each and every one – all by ourselves.

I have found myself today in a place that I never dreamed I would be. Is that good, bad? I have decided it’s neither. It just is what is. I have grieved the loss of a handful of old and worn out dreams in the recent past – I was ready to do it, actually. It’s in those difficult moments, where composure is lost, that remind me that I am different than before. I find comfort in the sheer acknowledgment of struggle and weakness. I need to be reminded that with my futuristic, perfectionism of a self came with it an attitude that promoted a lack of attachment, emotion, and vulnerability – things which seem to be primary needs for any kind of true relationship.

I still make plans, but I don’t keep track of them in 3, sometimes 4 different places. I still have dreams, but they rest in an open hand.

I go to sleep every night uncertain of the day that is to come. The old Whitney would choose to live elsewhere. She would involve herself in the things that seemed to be reliable. It would be safe, very safe, but also very lonely.

As scary as my reality seems some mornings, it is where I live. I am grateful to be here, content to be me, thankful to be introspective, and thankful for my newfound ability to shed tears over the things that sadden me.


As far as life goes, I take the risk every day. As tough as it gets, it still proves itself to be worth it.

A little something about me

It's my week to answer a handful of questions about myself for my High School Staff Spotlight. 

It was a fun thing to think about, and so I thought I would share it with you. 

What would be something strange about you that people might be surprised by?

 When I was in High School I washed my feet on average 7 times a day. Yes, I even left class in the middle of a period to keep ‘em clean. I have since relaxed a bit and only wash them about 3 times a day.

If you could create a restaurant what would it be called and what style of food would it serve?

Name: Piazza Navona

Type: Italian Bistro

There would be equal amounts of indoor and outdoor patio seating. I would serve only traditional Italian food. Lunch and dinner served throughout the week and we’d be open for breakfast (cappuccinos, espresso, and pastries) on Saturday and Sunday. Only those who have a sincere love for a European dining experience would be fans of my restaurant – impersonal waiters, relaxed/classy dinning, and fabulous traditional foods. You won’t find BBQ chicken pizza or still water on my menu. I make one promise: You will feel like you visited and experienced La Citta Eterna before you pay the tab.

Tell us about a favorite childhood memory.

I spend most of my childhood in a two–story home in Chino Hills. Every Christmas we would help my dad put up Christmas lights and when we had finished we would watch the sun go down while we sat on the highest part of the roof. My mom would make hot chocolate and the four of us kids would sit in awe of how little we were and how big the world was.

What has been something your core group girls have taught you over the years?

I will admit that I could spend pages writing about all that I have learned from them.  I see how they love and welcome those around them, how they encourage one another, but something that really sticks out is how they think about God and His word.  It isn’t in a certain way that they think about Him, but that He is what they think about – I am convinced of this weekly as they come with more and more questions – going deeper than I am driven to go most of the time. They remind me how important it is that our thought life is to be consumed with Divine things. 

"I'm dreaming of home"

I cannot say that I am an anti-war fanatic by any means and while there are days when I would like to sit on the street corner with my own sign, it probably wouldn't say "END WAR NOW," or "WAR IS NOT THE ANSWER". Maybe I say that because throughout history, not every war has been void of reason. We fight for life, we fight to save, we fight to stem the tides of evil in this world.

A few weeks ago I watched a film titled "Joyeux Noel". Written and produced in France, it won an Oscar in 2005 for Best foreign Film. And aside from it's award, it has won a portion of my mind over the last 20 some odd days.

In a war that killed more than 40 million people (soldiers and civilians), whose outstretching effects presented such intricate and delicate issues few can articulate – the film remembers a day when those fighting and killing one another decided to see a human being, not just an enemy to be rid of.

I remember my world history teacher in High School explaining that WWI began with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria. European countries found themselves on the side of the Austria-Hungary Empire (The Central Powers) or the Entente Powers that included France, and the UK among many others. And so thousands of soldiers found themselves in the trenches stretching hundreds of miles waiting for their superior to order an attack. More than how the war started, I remember the discussion of trench warfare itself. I sat on the far right of the room, second chair from the front. I may have only been 15 years old at the time, but I couldn’t help but consider how on earth someone could justify this type of fighting. Most casualties wins. I remember feeling irritated with history sitting at my desk in class.

As sure as time passes we have and will continue to see a progression in the way we fight. We fight ‘smart’ today. Looking back now to 1914 we could argue that we fought devastatingly stupid during the First World War. My feelings at age 15 weren't terribly off, and sometimes considering my own naiveté seems a bit refreshing. I needed just a little perspective.

Long story short, we see these soldiers turn into men - men who have wives and children, mothers who miss them and newborn babies who had never seen their fathers. There is a sense of a disappearing of the lines that divided the nations on that Christmas Eve. Fighting ceased, carols were sung and Mass is performed in No Mans Land by a Catholic Priest who was serving as a medic.

While the characters and stories will move you, the music will keep you coming back and the profound and factual story will change, at least in a small way, how you look at war. Beyond war, it will change how we see those enemies in our own life. We are each impressed upon by different ideologies, each presented with different sides of a story that make up the grounds upon which we argue or fight. When conflicts arise between two or more persons, there seems to be a switch in how one views the other. Offenders are made into monsters or villains and in our own minuscule minds are deserving of hatred and retaliation. I wonder what would happen if we could see those who offend us as human beings, rather than a uniform, a monster etc. We are all men, created by Almighty God. And much like WWI, there were clear differences, and to most, good reason to fight, but for one night it changed when they were reminded of their shared humanity. Let’s let our No Man’s Land be a place to remember each others humanity, not a place to kill.

Oh, and do yourself a favor and watch the movie.

Thank you, Sir Isaac Newton

I think it is good to go back and read things that we've (I've) written in the past. And while the following was in the recent past, and even seems to me a little strange and confusing, it still stirs up new thoughts. Dear reader: pardon it's occasional gaps in reasoning. Forgive me and my mind of it's greater ability to intake information rather than more effectively sorting what is already there.

__________

I was sitting at a stoplight returning from my short daily adventure that most of us call a lunch break. To my left was a marquee with a long list of 12 films enjoying their few weeks in the spotlight before something with better graphics, or an even more dramatic love story comes along to take it’s place. To my right there was a family of four enjoying the afternoon California sun and the rare chilly breeze that comes once in a blue moon here in Orange County. The young girl caught my eye. She walked further ahead than her father, mother, and brother and couldn’t have been older than 7. She was wearing a cream colored long-sleeved t-shirt underneath a furry vest and tights. Over the tights was a floral print skirt that seemed to enjoy the wind more than the brown curls that framed her young face.

I must have sat through two lights because it seemed as if I had all the time in the world to consider this little girl. She seemed to be mesmerized by the way that her skirt bounced off of her knee with every step she took. She began to exaggerate each step just to see what the skirt would do. I imagine her posing a question that you’d find in a modern children’s book that attempts to teach a child the basics of physics when a sweet young girl, such as my new little friend, asks why her skirt seems to react to the force of her little knee.

Sir Isaac Newton’s third law of motion explains that with every action, an equal and opposite reaction is sure to follow. Understanding this principle we can assume that without action, there can be no reaction for the initial action must always occur first.

It seems strange to me, being the non-science/mathematical brain that I am, that I would use a chief principle of physics and groundbreaking science in the 17th century to describe the state of life that I am in currently, and more likely this life as a whole. Thank you Isaac Newton for pointing out to us that with every action, a reaction is inevitable.

I went for a drive last night. It seemed much darker than normal in the ever-busy and crowded area where I live; there wasn’t a single set of headlights in my rear view mirror and all I saw was the night sky up ahead. After arriving at my destination I put my car in park, zipped up my coat and headed out in the misty darkness. As I stood looking out over the thousands and thousands of little lights off in the distance, I could not help but consider my small stature atop this large hill.

I considered the long harbored issues and bitter reactions within families. I heard the complaints of a young woman who resigned herself to mediocrity and unhappiness. I saw the tears rolling off of a mature cheek of one experiencing the grief of losing a loved one after the line was drawn. I felt my own fear of inadequacy – in a career, in my studies, and most evidently in relationships. There is something about having a mind full of thoughts that seems to send the reactions of my senses in the other direction. I must have been cold, and yet I felt nothing. I thought of the sonogram that I wake up to every morning that tells in me in 6 ½ months I will be an Aunt and another life will breathe it’s first breath.

Newton meant what he said about every action is followed by a reaction. I’ve seen it – in the good as much as in the bad. Perhaps it is the previously explained experiences and many others that have taught me to hold my tongue in most situations. I think the real issue is when to say what must be said, understanding that the reactions may not always grant me the result that I had hoped for.

As with most of my trains of thought, I end up back where it began - to that little girl on the sidewalk testing the reaction of her little skirt. Oh I wished that was the only thing that consumed my momentary thought! From that childish wish my mind could only resonate with one thing: I must hold fast to the promise that all created things will sing praises unto the God and Creator of all. I will trust that my prayers are heard and answered by the One who holds every inch of my small life in the palm of His hand. He has my best interest at heart and can ultimately do no more than He already has - given the life of His son so that the flawless Love of God would bridge the great chasm between man and Himself. My realization of the imperfect love in relationships, and my own inadequacies only point to a longing for eternity in the presence of God, and the hope of the continued transformation until the day that He returns.

As far as blogging goes...

I fail at consistency. For a time I have found myself in a season of life like none other that I have traveled through. I'm creating new paths to corners of my mind that I never knew existed.

While I have began countless number of blogs, there have been none I've been sure enough of to post. Sometimes we must write to be rid of and not necessarily to share with this wonderful cyber world - or so at least that is the conclusion I have come to.

One thing I know: I am more human today than I was yesterday. Never have I felt pain in such a profound way, and never have I been able to love as honestly as I can today. And while none of these things come naturally, and each continues to cost much energy, thought and even some tears, there is nothing more humbling, and nothing more freeing that to intensely understand my humanity in it's fallen state. Amidst every hole, every hurt and every broken or suffering relationship, is the ever-present Grace of an all-holy and ever-present God.

"Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: now and ever unto ages of ages. Amen."