shouts of joy

Mary, run -- that king wants to kill your baby son. Run, Alien, run These days of our open arms are done. Peace on Earth, Peace on Earth! Good will to Men. Run, Black Child, run -- that man has a badge and he has a gun. Run, Schoolyard, run We just gave that angry man a gun. Peace on Earth. Peace on Earth. Good will to Men. Good will to Women. Good will to Children. Good will. --The Brilliance

Don't you know we want to laugh We want to laugh from our bellies till we cry. We also want to cry, Cry so hard together that our tears become a single stream. Do you know that we want to ask questions Asking questions to understand the words that were never said. Did you know our dreams make a braid of bright, bold, and daring Tightly woven into a contagious flu? We want to embrace for no reason and every reason.  We want to talk about anything and nothing. Didn't you know we want to ache, We want to know loss and emptiness Because we want to also know joy in full. Did you know we want to make noise, go out with a bang, But we want to be still and hear the beating of our own drum. What we need and what we want we don't know,  But we know we are creatures craving contradiction. 

I spend a lot of time in the car down here in this over-populated SoCal area. It's not as bad as I thought it would be. It can be rather peaceful with the windows rolled up and everyone blocked out for some quiet time. However, I'm learning that although I'd prefer to have quiet time in a more beautiful setting than my car and as much as I enjoy my quiet time, it is possible for so much quiet time to be a poor use of time for my emotional, spiritual, and physical well-being. It's easy to analyze too much, to add up all the little things and make them a bigger deal, or even wish things were different, to be jealous or calculate defeat. It doesn't always contribute to my positivity, sitting in the car for so many hours a day deep in my own thoughts. But I'm also learning that there are some Christian songs that really speak to me and get me excited and hopeful, I play them on repeat in the car and I sing along and dance along. I get excited with this new song by L...

It's an overcast day in the Inland Empire. I'm drinking coffee at a local shop and beginning my work on finals for my last quarter. I'll be graduating in June as Kristina R. Rhuman M.A. As I use this weather to do what it calls me to do - contemplate - my arms are sore as I type from the spin class I went to this morning, strange it's my arms and not my legs. I excepted to see my friends, but saw no familiar faces. But it didn't bother me much, because I know those faces aren't far away. If I call they will come. And that is more than enough. I've lived here in the IE for 9 months now. My skin is sun-tinted and my freckles are loud. My hair is longer and sun bleached from the days spent at the beach. When I think about turning 26 next month I feel determined and scared. Even worse is my thoughts on June, where will I go when my student loans are no longer deferred and Cambodia calls me to come home.The past 9 months have gone by too fast. I'd like 10 ...

I'm afraid of losing a good thing, until I remember the days before. I forget that nothing was ever mine and each good thing truly is a big present wrapped up with ribbons and attached to it a note that says, "I love you, my daughter." I too often, take for granted those gifts. With each step along this journey there have been gifts, some small, some huge, and some I misinterpret all together.  Today, in this commonly warm inland empire it rained under dark, heavy clouds, drawing me back to my Western Oregon root. This week I'll be leaving this sunny state, where I've received blessing after blessing with my hands wide open, desperately reaching out. I hadn't expected so many good things at one time. I hadn't expected that it would become commonplace here in this big sunny state. The last thing I had expected was to fall in love with this smoggy, crowded, hot hell of a place. Love is a thing for the strong. Macrina Wiederkehr writes: Giving yo...

Sharing is a thing I don't do we'll. Too often I figure I'm just far t oo selfish to want to share with other people, but maybe my heart needs some healing. Maybe I'm selfish, but maybe I'm afraid of slipping from the place where we've been planted, from the safe strongholds that have brought so much healing. I understand that sharing a bowl of curry isn't going to hurt me, and somedays I really don't want to share my curry. And I know that sharing a skirt that has no sentimental value is going to be just fine. I get that. I share living space pretty well these days, and dirty dishes in the sink don't bother me like they used to. In fact I prefer to share some things. I prefer sharing a tent when camping, or a pot of coffee, a good book with lots of underlining, or a ride to the beach or mountains. However there are some things I'm having difficulty sharing lately.  Yesterday I was on Hayden Lake. The glorious jewel of a lake that has been my sum...

Here we are at #teachersummercamp. Two of my teacher friends, Sonya and Chelsea, also took summer classes this summer. Sonya is a teaching principal at a small school in Oakhurst, CA and Chelsea is a teacher/chaplain at a school in Sacramento, CA. They are some of the best teachers I know with huge hearts and a passion for teaching about Jesus. I have enjoyed our #teachersummercamp adventures even though Sonya was at another campus several hours away, we've kept in touch. And every Monday we share/exchange articles, YouTube videos, or stories that we found entertaining or intriguing. These two women have been lifesavers over the past year. We started #teachersummercamp 6 weeks ago and have finally finished. They will start school again in just a couple of weeks. I'm glad that they are allowing me to stay a member in the teaching club even though I will be taking classes this year and substituting instead of teaching full-time. They bring sunshine to a cloudy day. Bes...

It's late, some might say it's early, but my bedtime was hours ago and I'm so okay with that. This Sabbath was full. One of my favorite friends, Emily, is back in town and this morning we had coffee while sharing ideas about marriage, family, and weddings as she prepares to become a Mrs. My heart is so full for her. We laughed, cried and sipped our coffee then headed off to ReLive, the young adult church service. I hope married people are still allowed to attend the young peoples ReLive church. I know it's silly, but I ruminated on that thought today. I think they will. After church and a fun conversation at lunch about traveling we went to the beach and played in the saltwater until we were out of breath from fighting against the strong currents. We played some volleyball, a new game I'm learning called spikeball and talked about friends and family and the possible events of our ten year high school reunion that will take place in a couple short years. Tonight I...

The other day, I took a bus from Pasco, WA to Portland, OR. Being the person I am, I marched up the steps of the bus with my backpack slung over my shoulder and tossed it in a vacant seat without any reservations. I listened to conversations around me as we waited for others to board and found them entertaining. But when we finally rolled away from the station my nerves began to escalate so I tried to sleep. Sleeping didn’t last too long and I began planning my next move if our bus was attacked. If a shooter was on board what I might do, or if the bus driver took a wrong turn down a dark alley, or if someone tried to take my bag. While I calculated my moves I played it cool by playing around on my phone and reading a book. With my hidden fear I sat quite alert for the rest of the 5 hour trip. Busses just aren’t the best form of public transportation these days. The common person flies, the more adventurous common person takes a train, and anyone else who can’t afford the alternati...

Balancing is an act for those who practice it right. Because we know that practice doesn't make perfect, but practice makes permanent. And what we know today, is that nothing is permanent. Permanence is a thing of the days before the unexpected. Before two towers collapsed in the great NYC. Before beautiful, young girls were kidnapped from their families and sold to strangers. Before the deadly waves of Allison, Sandy, or Katrina tore us apart. Before our unity broke. Maybe this act of balancing has been misunderstood. Perhaps we spend our lives searching for a perfect balance of purpose, love, and put-togetherness that only disappears as quickly as the ocean foam that disintegrates as it blows across the sand. Balance makes me feel safer than anything. Solid. Peaceful. Accountable. Responsible. Beautiful. Worthy. Unfortunately, I can't quite absorb that balance, nor what it feels like to be any of those things that come with standing in one place on just one foot, while the ...

The weeks add up so quickly, still I can still taste the faint molasses stick of others. I can't believe it's been 6 months since I moved to Oregon to teach. I can't believe it's been a month since my last blog post. It's been less than a month since I had breakfast with my girl friends. But I can't believe it's only been a week since I kissed my sister, my best friend, goodbye. It's only been a handful of days since I dropped the man of my dreams off at the airport and had to drive myself home. It's only a been a nights sleep since I felt together we could conquer the world. When I woke up this morning, just two hours ago, there was a very heavy thing sitting inside of me, pinning me to the mattress. A giant bolder, covered in molasses. And I'd like to offer myself a bit of self-pity, since I have nobody else to pull it from at this moment from where I sit here at my tiny desk in this dark corner. I am alone in this dark corner. Nobody else fe...

The space in between two peaks lies a distance that seems dream-shattering. We look for the trail, the bridge, some kind of escape, but there isn't one. Our human eye can only measure a mean distance. The space is so far, the trek is so long, the goal seems out of any man's reach. But with time it won't matter, because it's the time that will bridge the distance, providing us a season to climb down from our peak, into the valley, through the abode and back up the next peak. It was just yesterday I sat in church. As I sat there I fought to hold in the bursts of laughter that wanted to escape during the reverence of the song service. How ironic that I, a lone high school teacher from Salem, would be sitting in a sanctuary in Portland in a row of seven of my own classmates from college. The boy on my left: a fond, old memory of camping trips, rock climbing, long weekends spent at Priest Lake, and a cousin of my best friend. There on my right: another kind of fond memor...

Isn't it true how we study a bud of a rose, so eagerly awaiting it's unfolding, singing our praises with oohing and awing, so willingly tending to it's every leaf, ever anticipating it's blooming because we believe in what we cannot see; it will become a full and lovely thing. When it blooms in all its glory we take pride. How then does such a beautiful thing fade; slowly, slowly, slowly we look past it all, forgetting the anticipated efforts, the desire for such loveliness and the pride in what we've nurtured. Until one day we notice something amiss, and again we yearn, with much less than a second thought, for that fullness and beauty; a fullness and beauty that was never really ours.

I want to understand the power in silence then my gushing river of words might instead refresh like a gentle stream I want to understand your faith then my faith that I claim is strong enough to move mountains might instead be felt through our embrace I want to understand sacrifice then my obsession with the figure in the mirror might instead reflect deep truth in the words, "I care" I want to understand trust then the past that I've worn like old prescriptions might instead be replaced so I can focus ahead I want to understand that understanding has it's own limit then my understanding that is incomplete might instead wait with fervor for a Completeness I want to understand that until that Completeness then I must commit to do three things: trust steadily, hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly