Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Explanatory story.

Last week we had to write a story in which a character has a thing that they are good at and we have to explain with out telling, how they became good at said thing. I got my story back today from my professor and he loved it. It was supposed to be around 250 words. I'm so happy that I have to post it. It's a pretty sad story, but I'm excited to explore this character further.
Here it is. There's no title. Forgive any offensive language. This is rated PG 13.


“Doesn’t your dad work there?”
“No.”
Thirty six thousand six hundred and eighty two. I keep track of my lies. Otherwise, I ‘d start believing them myself. The surest way to get caught in a lie is to start mixing your story with your reality. My father taught me that.
He called my mother “Stephanie” when they were fucking. Her name is Catherine.

“How do you feel about your father’s infidelity, Julie?”
“It’s a bit cliché.”

One. I would now argue that that’s true, but I didn’t know what cliché meant back then. I had heard my aunt say it to my mother in a bitter tone and I thought it sounded clever.

“Cliché? You may be the first eleven year old I’ve heard use that word.”
“I’m also the first eleven year old with a cheating father that is not going to have daddy issues.”

Two. I head heard my mother tell my aunt that was the one thing she wasn’t going to be able to handle: “Julie having daddy issues.” I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what that meant at eleven either, but I made a decision right then and there that if it were to happen, my mother would never be able to tell.

And she hasn’t. No one has. I am a straight A student, involved in student government, and the star of my JV volleyball team. I am the perfect sixteen year old daughter.
The only person that could know is my coach Mr. Aldridge. But he’s too busy molesting me in the locker room.

“How do you feel about being sexually involved with your volleyball coach, Julie?”
“It’s a bit cliché.”

Stories.

I'm in a creative writing fiction class this semester. So far, I love it. I have written some good things and some dumb things. I have decided to share the things that I'm proud of. Last week my friend published my double nickle story in the school paper. I felt pretty honored. A double nickle is a story that is 55 words. No more no less. Quite a challenge, and it definitely took me a few tries to get one that I really liked. So here it is:

One hundred dollars for groceries, for a family of four, for one month. My daughter reaches for the Lunchables. "Dad please?" But when we get to the check out, we're five dollars over. It's the Lunchables or the cigarettes. I look at my wife. She distracts our daughter while I ditch the Lunchables.



This was part of two other double nickles all of which I titled and turned in "People of Walmart." The others weren't that good. But I will post more stuff as time goes on - length and style depending on the assignment.
Hope you enjoy.

Monday, January 2, 2012

So this is the new year...

2012. Twenty Twelve (just in case you said "two thousand and twelve" in your head). I decided that next New Years Eve I want to have some kind of "Suck it Mayans" party or maybe just Mayan themed? Or we can just all yell "suck it" instead of Happy New Year...or "we hate you Nicholas Cage"..wasn't he in that 2012 movie? I never saw it, but it looked dumb - a sure sign Nicholas Cage was in it.

Anyways,last semester was insanely busy and though 2011 had some great moments, it's time to move on. Saturday, the youth pastor from my home church, Kurt, had a bunch of the college kids come over for pancakes and coffee and we had our 2nd annual resolve breakfast. It gave us time to reflect on the hopes and expectations we had for 2011, where we are now, and where we want to be in the next year.

I didn't remember exactly what I said last year, but I made a few guesses. I assume I was worried about my Loveworks team/ trip - that hope was surpassed for sure. I think I said I wanted to get a mentor down in SD - another hope greatly met and surpassed; I started meeting with Wendy Kessler in February of last year. And then I assumed I wrote the cliché every year request: grow in my relationship with God.(clarification: cliché for a church kid born and raised)

And that's the one that got me. Be careful what you wish for is the saying. Well, I think I have grown in my faith, but it has been painful. Spring semester last year was one of searching and clinging to what little understanding and faith I had. (I have multiple posts from that time if you want a refresher). I haven't written a lot this semester because as I said, it's been crazy busy. But it's been tough. It seems as though the list of hurting people around me just keeps getting longer.
It started with Amy this summer.
Then a few weeks into school, my roommate's mom died.
The list goes on, but as I'm not sure who ends up reading this I'm going to refrain from sharing.
I really like strengths quest and if you don't know what it is, you should really look into it. My number one strength is restorative, meaning I want to fix things. It looks different for different people, but for me it's people and their problems. I want to help so badly, but everything that has come up this semester are things that I can't seem to touch. I can do nothing for my roommate. It's a long story, but we barely knew each other before we roomed together. And I know her better now, but when her mom passed, we had had about one good conversation. And I know that even if we were closer sooner I still couldn't relieve her of that pain, but it doesn't mean I didn't/ don't want to.
And there are more examples of surrounding pain, but I guess the point is that part of me didn't want to put "grow in my relationship with God" on my resolution list this year. Because it effing hurts. But I also know that I'm not done growing and the fact that it still hurts so bad is because I'm working through stuff right now. I need to look at the bigger picture of how God is working and can work in others lives and how God can use me in that, but not become so overwhelmed and discouraged with it.

In a quick plug for having a mentor: I would not have seen any proof of God's work in my life had Wendy not pointed it out. I asked Wendy and others to pray that I would know how to act/ what to do/ what not to do when Tori's mom died. Wendy asked me how Tori was doing and how our relationship was before I left for Christmas. I told her that I feel like we have gotten closer and that I'm glad I can be a person outside her regular group of friends that she can talk to when she needs to. As I told her that Wendy pointed out that that's an answered prayer. I didn't know what to be to Tori and now we have a pretty good friend/roommate relationship.
I know that's pretty little, but after feeling like nothing good is happening, nothing is getting better and I can do nothing about it; realizing how God is faithful in even the small things, is a pretty big deal.

And that's where I'm at. The end of 2011 and that's where I'm picking up. I am working on trusting God and noticing the small amazing ways he shows me his faithfulness and praising him in the midst of all of this. There's my resolution for 2012. That and to figure out some sort of plan for my future, but that's another thing to work through for another time.

So this is the new year...and I feel pretty different.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The Age of Innocence

The Age of Innocence-
To Newland, Love May


I ignore the unpleasant,
I act in all the appropriate ways,
I am a woman of 1877.

I follow the social etiquette.
I am from a rich and powerful family.
And I seem to be hardly aware of my limitations.

I am what you want.
I am innocent.

But you are naive.

I may ignore the unpleasant,
But I still see it.
I may act appropriately,
But I can see the look in your eyes-

The spark that lights when you see her.

But I know my limitations and their advantages.
It's you that is innocent, Newland.
Innocent to think I am not aware.

I gave you the chance to leave
and now it's too late.
Part of ignoring the unpleasant is destroying it.

Thank you for cooperating.
It's for the good of our family.
Sentiments must be preserved.

And I am a woman of 1877.
And Old New York is gone.
And the facade of the new has been put on.

It's called The Age of Innocence.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

When You Shine, I Come Alive

Last week at the high school youth group I help with, we sang a worship song in which the chorus goes: "When You shine, I come alive. I'm on fire for You. I'm on fire for You."
As I sang that I thought to myself, when do I see God shine? I saw God shine in Ukraine. Easy. It's amazing how we open our eyes to see God's work, when we are in a different place or country.
But have I seen God shine here? Have I looked?
A couple of weeks ago I was reading an update on my dear friend Amy as she goes through this ridiculous battle of healing. It was a relatively encouraging update because she is healing, but there are some complications with the medicine and some other thing that I don't understand. Granted, I was a little emotional that night, but as I was talking to my mom about it on the phone, I couldn't stop crying. This isn't fair that this is happening to Amy and her family. My mom kept saying, "God is going to use this" and "We can't see how God is using this yet". I wanted to scream "I'm sick and tired of God 'using' crap situations!" I thought: God can do good things and use other situations with out putting Amy and her family through all of this.
When You shine, I come alive.
In reality, my mom's right. I could only see the negative in this situation. God can and will use this for something good. Even if I never see the good of it, I have to trust Him. And when I think about how Amy and her family have to trust Him even more than I do and how she is so amazing in doing that, I just feel ridiculous.
I have to seek God to see Him shine. I have to look for it. If I keep myself buried in the negative aspects of life, with out looking for the potential of God's love, I'm not going to see it. And I'm not going to come alive. Christ is what makes me alive and by seeing his work around me I can begin to live to my full potential I have been created for.
Whatever is going on around me, if I seek God and continue to try and see his abounding love in all situations- I'll come alive. Because

I wanna burn bright like a star in the night.
Fall fall and surrender it all.
Sing awhile and believe like a child.
I just want to be your reflection.
When you shine, I come alive.
I'm on fire for you.
I'm on fire for you.

May we seek to see God shine in all situations and may his love overflow out of our lives onto others. May we come alive in Christ. Amen

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Before I forget

There are a couple stories from Ukraine that I have to tell before I start talking about getting back into life at Point Loma.
They're both short but were super impacting for me at least. They are two huge reasons while I believe that it is so important and beneficial to return somewhere.
The Sunday we came back to Kiev, after camp, we went to our host Andrey's apartment for his home church he had started. One of the girls that came happened to be a girl that went to Odessa with me three years ago. Walking back to the metro I got to catch up with her a little bit. When we were in Odessa together we went and visited a group of boys that lived on the street. One of them had to be taken to the hospital because he had pneumonia. The next couple days we were there, we visited him in the hospital. His name was Sergei. He was eighteen at the time, I think. Anyways, while I was talking to Anya she asked if I remembered him. When I said yes, she told me the rest of his story. After he got out of the hospital he went to live with the woman we stayed with while we were in Odessa, Nathalia. He ran away from there once and returned. He then went to rehab for a while. But now, Anya says that he is doing well, a Christian and married with a kid. How great is that? So often do we meet someone and never get to hear what happened in their lives. God is so amazing and I feel so blessed that I got to hear Sergei's story.
The other story I'm going to copy out of my journal.
"On Wednesday our last day with kids at the park [in Kiev] went really well and I got to see Andre, the boy I went to Odessa with three years ago. He's grown up so much! He is so funny still and I am so happy I got to see him. Funniest thing he said was when I asked him 'so what have you been up to the past three years?' and he replied 'well the day after you left I woke up and felt like P Diddy'. [for anyone that doesn't know- that was a Ke$ha reference] The most impacting thing he said: "Everyone always says they are going to come back and they never do."

I didn't write anymore about it in my journal, but he went on. He said at when he first saw me, he didn't think it was actually me because he couldn't believe I came back. He said, "People shouldn't say that they will come back if they don't mean it. I know people just say things but still." I am so grateful that God is amazing and allowed me to come back to this country.
I didn't say I would come back when I left this time, but I really want to. I pray that it works out that I am able to. These stories are reasons why I think it is important to return to countries after mission trips. Right now my church at home is working on building a relationship with Haiti and going on trips consistently. I think that's awesome. Building relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ around the world is not only important, but really a blessing to us who are visiting. It is a beautiful feeling to worship with others half way across the globe.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

On Being American in Ukraine.


"You Americans smile too much." - Philip Masyuk
This Ukraine trip was not my first time out of the country. It wasn't even my first time to Ukraine. In my travel "experience" or whatever you want to call it, it's not a new thing to realize how loud we are as Americans. Going on the tube in London with a group of Americans was one of the most embarrassing things, but after a few weeks there we blended in like anyone else on the tube. Maybe we just weren't there long enough, but it would definitely take more than a few weeks to blend in in Ukraine (I mean not even thinking about the whole language barrier thing). My quote from Philip is a perfect example. Apparently, we smile too much. And besides being too loud, which is just a given where ever we go, we also greet people too friendly? That was probably one of the funniest things to discover. After playing with kids in Kiev for the afternoon we walked to our host Andrey's apartment to have dinner. As we walked in we greeted his wife in a normal way. "Hi Marina! Oh my gosh this smells so good [dinner]! Thank you!" etc. And I noticed Victor mimicking us. "haha Are you making fun of us?" I asked. He just laughed. He was! He then later explained how they thought that was so funny; how we greet so enthusiastically I guess. Which we do but I would say it's funny not to great with a smile.
That's not the only thing that makes us stand out. Apparently we just look American. I don't really know what that means, but we do. While taking a walk in the village we went to, Vapnarka, we passed by a wedding. The band was playing and people were dancing and as we walked by a band member said into the mic "Helllooo Americansss!" I mean in that case we were walking in a small village in a large group and stopping to stare at the wedding- so that may have given us away. It was funny anyway.
Fortunately for us, the kids love the "Amerikanskis" and being American was an automatic cool in their minds. I don't know how I feel about that and I don't think I want them to think I'm awesome just because I'm American, but without that, we wouldn't have been that big of a help on this trip- at least not the three days in Kiev between camp and Vapnarka.
During those three days we went in the afternoon to this area where there are a million tall apartment buildings to play with kids. The first day there we set up some crafts started playing and the kids just started coming. It was crazy and so cool. By the third day they were waiting for us, running and saying "Amerikanskis!!" When we left a few followed us to our bus to see us off. They were so fun and so cute. I hope that they do end up going to the kids club that our hosts told them about the last afternoon we were there. My friend from the last time I came to Ukraine came with us the last afternoon, and he told me how his girlfriend told him that she remembered when she was six years old some Americans, like us, came and played with her. She's 18 now and she remembers when she was six Americans came. To think that these kids are going to remember us 12 years from now is crazy and I hope I remember them 12 years from now too. Maybe I won't remember their faces or names, but I will remember them and Ukraine. This was not my last time coming to that country.