PIctures

Lake Bonny Park

Going to the park was a great experience for me. After such a long and busy week I usually find it hard to take time and and just be still. I often try to spend time alone but thats not always easy. Being forced to spend quiet time reminds me how much more I should be doing it. Not only was I able to appreciate nature as it shouts for joy, but I was also able to practice a little of what Mary Oliver described in her poem, Six Recognitions of the Lord.In this poem threes a sections where she enters into that place of not thinking, not remembering, and not wanting. As I read through the poem I wondered what exactly she meant by that. I didn't really understand and I may not eve fully understand what she means but either way I decided to try it out for myself. I asked myself what would that place look and feel like, I'm not entirely sure but here's what I got. As I was walking on that paved road surrounded by tall majestic tress on both my left and my right, I had the crazy urge to walk with my eyes closed- which I did. While I had my eyes closed I felt the smooth but yet powerful wind overwhelm me and I could hear the sweet song of the birds accompanied by the swaying of the branches as if they were in a dance. My mind, body, and spirit all felt at ease. I didn't feel as though I had to worry, and I wasn't in a hurry to get things done. I guess I was just in awe of my surroundings.I wasn't thinking about anything because I felt as though there was no need to. For just those two or three minutes of walking with my eyes closed I felt at peace. Maybe thats the place Mary Oliver was referring too. Of that I may not be sure but at least I found my place.

( "I went to Lake Bonny Park for this assignment, and I stayed there for at least 40 minutes.")

****Short Poems*****

As I sit and listen

I am reminded of how great you are

Not just due to a song so commonly sung

but due to the reality of who you are.

The birds of the fields sing for joy

as you supply their every need.

So will I shout to the heavens

for you, are all I need.

As the deer seeks to quench its thirst

My body longs for you glimpse of your touch.

The blue jay sings,

the strong winds cause a wave of joy,

the majestic trees clap in amazement,

the finely dressed lilies bloom in wonder,

and the roaring waters run wild

as the crackling of the dead leaves announce

that new life will soon come.

Blue- the color of the sky

Green- Earth's attire

Yellow- the bright rays of the sun

Brown- the richness of earth

Colors- all displaying the beauty of their maker.

Prayer

“I know a lot of fancy words, I tear them fro my heart and my tongue. Then I pray.”-Mary Oliver

I think there’s so much one can take form this poem, I’m just not sure whether I am able to fully understand it all. Mary Oliver has such a great way of painting a mental picture through her writings which, I really enjoy because it makes me feel as if I’m right there almost. Reading this poem definitely got me thinking about my own prayer life. It also stirred my schemata of similar experiences when I’ve been outside and as I mentioned before, my personal prayer life.

Sitting outside Friday evening without worrying or thinking about anything specific simply practicing how to appreciate nature as Prof. Corrigan so strongly suggest we do, I found myself thinking about a variety of things some which I never really give myself time to think about. What is prayer supposed to look like? Is there a right and wrong way to pray? What does Mary Oliver mean when she enters into that place where she doesn’t think, doesn’t remember, and doesn’t want? Could prayer be, me sitting on a bench, eyes closed simply listening to and appreciating my surroundings? Or should there be some dialogue? I began asking myself these questions to see what exactly I though or believed about prayer. Going to church as a kid you are always taught to pray when you wake up, before every meal, and then before you go to bed. Now a lot of times I don’t even pray before I eat, I just eat! When I was 12-14 years old my friends and I would try to justify not praying before a meal because it was just becoming a ritual and not genuine as it should be. Of coarse that was just so we wouldn’t feel so bad about not praying. Anyways, I guess what I’m coming down to is that prayer shouldn’t be something you feel forced to do but being open and willing to seek God and knowing that He will meet your need as long as you give him the opportunity to do so. It is not about having a right or wrong prayer but it’s speaking straight from the heart; being honest and sincere. It’s not about using fancy words so maybe those around you will think you’re adequate enough to pray for other or lead a prayer aloud but it’s about your own relationship with God. Also realizing that there will be times where dialogue is unnecessary. There will be times when you will enter that place where you will think nothing and listen.

This Blessed House

Twinkle and her husband were quite the characters. As I read, reread, and discussed the story in class I realized how different both characters really are. It almost seems as they are complete opposites. During our class discussion, one of the questions we were asked was, what character do you relate with? Since then I began to ask myself whether I am more like Sanjeev or like Twinkle? As we discussed each character, I noticed how spunky and crazy Twinkle is-maybe too much for me. She’s always exploring the house to find her next treasure. I was reminded of a child looking for a toy. They search everywhere until they find something to entertain them, then they are satisfied. Twinkle was not just searching for treasure but also wanted to display it for all to see and then she would be happy. Twinkle almost seemed to not care as much about the guests that would soon be coming or what other arrangements or fixings needed to be done around the house she was usually in a world of her own.

Her husband Sanjeev on the other hand was always worrying about what needed to get done around the house. He was always rushing from place to place trying to have the necessary preparations ready for when their guests should arrive. He didn’t car for the findings that his wife discovered. I think he almost wished would care more about what needed to be done than those “treasures” she was constantly in search of. Even when the guests arrived he didn’t spend much time with them. He spent most of his time making sure the food never ran out, and cleaning up.

After discussing and thinking about these two very different characters I am still not sure who I relate with. I can be a little crazy sometimes, and my friends can testify that I go overboard with things that I enjoy doing instead of doing what I should be doing. But I am also very careful of making sure that everything goes just as planned. I like to be sure that people feel comfortable when visiting. I guess it just comes down to having a balance. We should not be too careful that we become careless of other things but not too careless because then we just wont care.

During their dinner, Twinkle was entertaining the guests while Sanjeev was making sure there was plenty of food and drinks. He being the character he is cared more about the food than spending time with his guests. As I read this section I was reminded of the story of Mary and Martha serving Jesus. Martha was more like Sanjeev, preparing the food and worrying about everything that needed to get done. Mary seems to be Twinkle, they both sat and talked with their guests. I guess there’s just a time and place for everything, a time to serve but also taking the time to simply fellowship with one another.

A little bit of character

Character as is mentioned in the handout written by Professor Corrigan, states that character goes beyond what people see, it is even more than how people live, act and or do. He later states that it is the process of our spiritual growth in which our day to day character is developed causing our true self to match in God. This semester has led me to believe just that. Not just from personal experience but also by listening to what my roommates, friends and peers have and are going through confirms God’s work in our live if we allow him to do as he chooses. I think the great emphasis on prayer campus wide falls hand in hand. It is through prayer and spending time with God that we are broken, humbled and then restored into what he has already designed. It is laying it all down before God and giving him the opportunity to mold our lives.

This reminds me of the house of cards C. S. Lewis mentions in A Grief Observed. Our lives should always be in that position- where our house is broken time and time again so that God may come in and rebuild just as it should be. That we may never become so sure of ourselves that we no longer give God the opportunity to remove or rearrange things as he pleases, but may our hearts be humbled. Recently someone shared with me that it is through humbling life experience that we are truly humbled. This same person is the president of an organization, and as I listen to the experiences they go through as a leader they always conclude that it has been because of the time they spend in solitude with God that keeps them going. This person expressed that its has been through those difficult and sometimes embarrassing experiences where God has broken their pride, selfishness, where he has broken who they thought they were and began to show them what they are supposed to be. May we always have a willing heart allowing him do to with us as he wants to.

That’s just the little bit of my understanding of character. As I write this post and reread the handout I’m beginning to realize how complex character truly is, maybe one day I’ll fully understand.

Her story

It was one of those days again, where something within her stirred up an emotion, a memory which she tried so hard to suppress. It had not always been like this, Jean usually had good days at work, filing papers, rescheduling and making new appointments, quickly writing down in short-hand everything and anything that came out of the mouth of that old, grey-haired, cranky, feller she called boss. She seemed content. But today being home alone in her apartment was a completely different story. The atmosphere was different, it was here where she didn’t have a job to hide behind, where she didn’t have a variety of tasks or that flimsy notepad titled, Things To Do in which one would find over ten bullet point scribbles listing things to do to keep her busy, there was no way out of Jean facing that which she dreaded most. Today was one of those days where the cuts and sores that have yet to heal bled, causing so much pain and anguish which many times seemed unbearable. As Jean leaned against the vintage designed wallpaper that covered her small but yet cozy apartment living room, she slowly began to lose herself in those thoughts that constantly overwhelmed her. Instantly, her thoughts begin to race bringing up to surface that which she so easily and quickly learned to suppress deep within her core. She feels she is not ready to deal with it today; she wished she didn’t have to deal with it, not yesterday, not today, and not ever. She didn’t know how to deal with the pressure, she couldn’t handle the pain that was caused by it, and she was terribly afraid to get so lost in her thoughts to the point where she would never again be able find herself. As her thoughts continued to run, she was abruptly awakened by a raspy, high pitch screeching sound that came from a of a tree branch being violently blown from side to side and then dragged across her living room window. Regaining her composure, Jean slowly removed her heels and headed towards the window where that screeching sound was coming from. As she approached the window she realized how quickly the sky had shifted from a beautiful cloudless, sunlit sky into a dark, nimbus cloud filled sky ready to release what has been stirred within. Jean also noticed the sparks of bright yellow and purple which looked to be lights flashing, appearing and instantly disappearing throughout the sky and soon after she heard the booming sound of thunder causing her to tremble inside.

Still dressed in her black, knee length, skirt and white, long sleeve, buttoned up, collar shirt Jean needed some good ole chamomile tea maybe then she will be able get herself together again. She walks past her living room and is careful to move her heels further aside so that she won’t trip over them on her way back while carrying a mug with freshly brewed hot chamomile tea. The pot is now on the stove, and the mug Jean’s older sister gave her with an imprinted picture of her family is set on the counter ready to be filled with pure deliciousness. As Jean stretches the most she possibly can and even tries standing on her tippy-toes to reach a tea packet she is unable to do so because just like her mama, Jean is only 5ft. and the tea packets are all place in the top right shelf where she can’t reach. Jean laughs to herself as she stands on the step ladder looking for the tea packet. Carefully stepping down the ladder she replays having seen her mama do the same thing multiple times. Jean recalls her mom having to climb the ladder to reach the spices she needed for the meal she was preparing. At that time Jean found it humorous that her mom had to use a step ladder but now she completely understood. After a couple of minutes the teapot sings loud and proudly announcing the water is ready. Jean then turned the stove off and carefully poured the water into the mug with already the tea packet inside and then adds two teaspoonfuls of sugar, again just as her mama did. Taking her mug between both hands she begins to take small sips in order to fully savor the teas. As she sips the tea Jean recalls vivid memories of her mom leaning against the kitchen counter drinking her tea in a slow pace as to actually savor the tea Jean thoughts are swayed to what it was like when her mother was around. She enjoys reliving those timeless memories of spending hours and hours at her mom’s side eagerly listening to her every word. She also remembers those stormy nights when she would wake up frightened due to a nightmare. Jean would quietly walk into her mother’s bedroom and lay next to her mama’s side. It was almost as if her mama expected her arrival. With such tender care and love her mama would wrap her in her arms, embracing her reassuring that everything would be okay. In that moment, nothing else mattered, no monster could ever get her because she was in mama’s embrace; she was safe. Still drinking her tea Jean sighed heavily as she longed for those days spent with her mom. Jean was very much like her mom although she had much of her fathers character, she had her mom’s well defined cheekbones, beautifully prominent shaped hazel eyes, her mom’s luscious dark brown curly hair that reached the middle of her back, and she had the same distinct mole her mom had to the left side between her upper lip and her nose. Throughout middle and high-school years she became very involved in sports and other extracurricular activities mainly to avoid what was beginning to shake her world upside down. Things were rapidly changing around the house, dad was hardly home, and during that same time she learned that she had a younger brother she never knew about.

Jean placed the spoon in the dish washer and headed back into the living room. By now Jean’s tea was halfway gone but still warm. She sat comfortably with a blanket outstretched on her lap facing the window where she could see the storm taking place outside as she continued with her tea and her thoughts. Jean can’t stand to think of anything else but of the good days spent with her family, when she felt as though she had the perfect family. Anything else she keeps hidden to herself, she almost tries to erase any memory of it so that maybe the pain will be gone too. As she watches the rain drops fall she wonder if one day she will have to spring forth just like those nimbus clouds outside were pouring out what had been constrained inside. She knew that one day she would have to true to herself. Then and only then will she be able to see the rainbow that comes after the rain showers. Even though those thoughts were in the back of her mind Jean felt as though she couldn’t handle the pressure that corned her. Once again her thoughts began to overwhelm her. Not the happy thoughts about her mom but reality hits and hits hard. She can’t handle the pretending, she can’t take suppressing her feelings anymore and she cant bear to tell what happened so the next best thing is to just…

That same grey-haired, cranky, old feller who Jean called boss is now giving a eulogy at the funeral of a young lady who many times kept to herself but was a hard worker and very caring. She never saw the rainbow.

"Sonny's Blues"

“Freedom lurked around us and I understood, at last, that he could help us to be free if we would listen, that he would never be free until we did.”

It’s amazing how time and time again I am reminded of the importance of listening. Whether it be listening to what God is saying during quiet time or listening to those around me; being in tune with something other than myself. I am truly amazed at how much healing and in Sonny’ case: how freedom comes from simply taking to listen and/or being heard. I guess I’ve come to this conclusion through actually practicing listening. This year I have been helping with M_9:35 (homeless outreach ministry on campus), and as we fellowship with the homeless people I realize how much they just want someone to listen to them. A lot of the people are so willing to open up and share life experiences with us; all they need is someone to listen to them. I definitely believe that if we are humbled before God and are willing to be used by him, as we spend time listening to those around us God’s healing and freedom reaches out to them. While fellowshipping with the homeless people I sometimes get teary-eyed because of how powerful God’s love us upon our lives, but it takes listening to help realize it. I have learned so much from listening to the stories and experiences being told by the homeless as well as the heartfelt advice often given. An unforgettable experience which occurred not too long was when a homeless man was sharing his story and he began to sob as he told us his story. He shared with us some of his personal life, his struggles, his concerns, his fears, and we simply took time to listen. As he wiped his tears away with his hand he then began to thank us for taking the time to listen. He said it was just what he needed; someone to listen to him. How many more are in search of freedom and healing? All it takes is someone willing to listen.