shouts of joy

So here's the news. Not good. Not bad. Just straight up facts. (Facts from a girl on oxycodone and emotionally ... well, slightly unstable and a little heartbroken.) Argentina is in the rear view mirror now - this means no traveling for a long while, the thing I love most. No walking for 6 weeks - who knows when I'll run again, the thing I love most after traveling. Several months of physical therapy for a stapled MCL, replaced ACL, a sewn meniscus and fractured femur. (I've always had weak bones, so it doesn't surprise me.) 45 minute surgery turned into a 2 hour surgery, not as scary as I thought. Trampolines are dangerous and I will never jump on one again. I'll be back at WWU this quarter, possibly in a wheelchair? Not sure what classes I can take yet. My friends are the best. They've called, visited, emailed, and prayed. Most of all, I've got the best Father, who tells me: "Come to me, I know you're weak and have found life burdensome...

Maybe it's the load of excitement before something big that throws off the balance, causing serious havoc. Or maybe the doors need to be shut so the soul doesn't plow throw, leaving behind worse damage. I'm not sure, but this adventure is temporarily on hold. There's only One that sees the beautiful painting with each brush stroke clearly defined. And to Him, it's clear and it's beautiful. Monday night I went to Sky High, "the trampoline place," with our collegiate Sabbath school group. Fun place, especially the foam pit. Right before we left, I had a pretty bad fall. (probably some crazy triple back flip, side spin, something. You know?) Long story short, I busted my knee, had an MRI yesterday and am having surgery today. Thought you all should know since I'm expected to leave for Argentina so soon. So it may not happen this quarter, or any quarter. I'll know for sure after the surgery this morning. Will keep you all posted! And thank you so...

She had swept up the pieces that had somehow fallen so neatly in place.  Eagerly, she bent down to pick them up and hold them in her youthful hands, for they were hers, all hers. But suddenly a harsh wind blew past and stole the pieces from her inexperienced grip, scattering them amidst the mania before her.

These past few weeks have been spent packing, amazoning, moving, and preparing for a quarter at an Adventist college in Argentina. YES! I love going to new places! I get so excited that I sometimes forget to pack really important things (a toothbrush, underwear, shoes, phone chargers), or I forget to say goodbye to really important people, or finalize school registration, sign important papers, email professors, schedule flights (not good). I remember packing for my trip to India  3 ½ years ago where I was moving to teach at a boarding school for 9 months. I made a checklist, but only packed half the list and when I got to India, it was good that I packed light because I didn't need much and I lived out of my suitcase. But I wished I could have somehow packed in my bags some extra courage, a pop-up friend, or a teleporting device. Loneliness seemed to be the only thing that came out of my big suitcase. Today I read an excerpt from Henri Nouwen on loneliness:  Riding on ...

Nothing gets me more fired up than women's rights and education. Since finals I've had more opportunities to catch up on news and I'm fired up when I read what's in front of me - education programs being cut and women being rejected, violated, and contained. A few weeks ago I posted this documentary "Miss Representation" on my facebook: "We can't be what we can't see" with women making up 51% of the U.S. population, yet compromising nearly 17% of congress. The feedback I got from friends varied. Some wanted to discuss it in great depth. And others had little to say. One friend, being a male, apologized. What? When I asked him why he apologized, he told me that's the only thing he could do. Another male friend suggested that we consider each sexes views and opinions equally. Some people told me it was a waste of time, but others matched my passion on the subject. It's not that we need a pity party or to be considered equ...

There's something about partings.  Time never bears justice. Stupid time, why can't you fight on our behalf? Can't you promise a steadfast future?  Couldn't you fast forward through the heart break?  Instead, your partings are like watching bread rise -  slow and lonely. You're two-faced, time One side you're a road trip from Seattle to New York The other a roller coaster at an amusement park. Find you're center of balance, won't you? Somewhere between the 12 and 6 or yesterday and next year. Who do you employ anyway?  Not me. I'm through with your games. You can't fire me, I quit this time.  This time, parting is on my terms.  Not yours. How does it feel?  You left us with nothing but wrinkles and creases -  some laughing, but mostly crying. Stability. Can't you do that?  Not here or there, but somewhere in the middle. Not parting or leaving, but coming together and meeting. ...

Here's what finals looks like studying at the patisserie. (Lucky me!) I need to clear my mind before I start working away. A few things: "What is life's purpose?" "Love the Lord your God with all your          Heart.           Soul.          Strength. Put these commands on your heart. Talk about them when you sit at home (or in the patisserie), when you walk down the road (or through campus), when you lie down (or take a study break). Tie them to your hands, write them on your door frames." "You (Tina) bring the Lord joy. When He created you He said, 'It is GOOD!'" I'm super excited today. The frost makes this place look magical. Most of my finals are presentations (which are awesome) my first one is a group interview applying for a teaching position at a school of my choice, another is a spoken version of my philosophy of education, and the last one is a presentation of a project I've wor...

Yesterday in 5th grade English we made Acrostics using our full names. Acrostics are when you write your name vertically and stem off of each letter with a word or phrase. They were told to write three words that describe them for each letter. One girl was in disbelief when she counted 5 E's in her name. I laughed in my head a little bit, what a bummer! The home room teacher, Crystal (not much older than myself) was writing her name on the board as an example. She got to the "Y" in her name and got stuck on her third word. Kyler raised his hand and said, "I know Mrs. O, you can put Young! Oh, wait ... no, you can't! Shoot!"  Bah, Kyler got me thinking. 23, 26, 28 ... ah, the years come faster than I'd like. I remember writing a blog a year ago, "30 is the new 20." But I'm not so sure about that anymore. The older I get the more I regret handing out my youthful prime years like candy on Halloween. I know I've done a lot for as old as ...

I imagine when God created us He was super excited with the stage of preadolescence and adolescence. When everything is funny. Everything. When boys bring crickets inside and stick them in the girls' desks. When girls spend forever in the bathroom preparing for a beauty contest. Or something. When boys repeat the same annoying behaviors over and over again. When girls play truth or dare. When boys spy on their older siblings. When a hill and a block of ice are more fun than board games. When the first person to fall asleep loses. When we only drank Kool-aid. When we could eat 5 servings of one meal. When we danced to the loud crazy music in our disc-man head phones. When lemonade stands were self-sustaining. When we'd belch the alphabet. When the simplest things somehow make the more complex things look lame. Sometimes I question whether or not we were made to grow out of that stage. I've been told it's time to grow up, but really, I don't think I have to. Ever. ...