Dancing on the Waves

Dancing on the Waves, have you heard that song from We the Kingdom? It was on repeat a few months back. This season? More like sinking in the waves. Dark days, sprained ankle, little movement, routines all out of whack. My goodness it’s been a struggle. Met with one of my support team members last night and was reminded of how much has been out of my control, but also reminded what I CAN control… there’s little we can control in our lives and I truly believe control is and can be an evil error on our part. Looking forward to exercise again and getting back to things that will bring me back to at least floating on the water… seasons come and go and this too shall pass, but my goodness it feels hard right now. Another song that was sent to me via a text yesterday was Counting My Blessings by Steph Schueter. I played this song about 100 times over the Bose system… it uplifted my mood and reminded me amidst all of this, I have SO many blessings, so so many.

Online or in person.

I’ve said goodbye to a lot of the online world. I remember when most of my days were filled with living on the gram and posting art. Somedays I crave being present in the studio more and being a full fledged artist again, but I am drawn to chaplaincy. There’s a tug to live in the real world. Maybe my art made a difference, but I want my hands and feet dirty with life, not just paint. As I am stuck at home with a sprained ankle and now today twisted back, I wonder where I am going and what is next in life. It seems now is a time to work and not live in my art world, but oh how I miss it. Sometimes it feels too fanciful and luxurious and I want to deny that part of myself. It’s foggy out and I am longing for sunshine. No creativity flowing whatsoever in these bones of mine. Depression has settled in and I am trying to combat it the best I can without being able to incorporate movement. I played in the studio a bit and miss the days where I was fine with whatever was produced. Now being a somewhat established artist I despise when something isn’t presentable or just right. Why can’t I just play? I am too tied up, to held down… more to come.

Sunrise

shaky nights

surely the Lord is

in this space

in this place

i cannot find

i cannot feel

Him

the mind

it tortures

the stomach

it writhes

wait for dawn

the terror

fades

Sunrise

respite

now I can

close my eyes

He has arrived

Tomorrow

Tomorrow I go back. Back to the hospital. Back to chaplaincy. Grounded myself by being in the trees today, catching up on house chores, and eating healthy, yummy foods. I watch the cinnamon candle fire dance on the coffee table and pray for God to go before me into tomorrow.

Beauty Unmatched

The FaceApp has officially made me feel… well, old. I read an article a while back saying when people hit 40 is when they start to really feel a change. By all means, I was soaring along until I read another article about the FaceApp and decided to try it out.

No wonder so many people want plastic surgery! Pain in general is miserable, so no face lifts for me. True story, 42 - my face isn’t the same as when I was 26 or even 38 for that matter! Is it just me or does losing external beauty the pits. Once perky places are sorely sagging and not what they were. The tone of certain areas are well - gonsies.

Grateful my body still does the things I need it to for the time being.

Question - Would you ever go back in life, freeze yourself at a certain age?

There are certain things I regret, but overall aging has taught me many valuable lessons and I don’t intend or want to relearn/relive any of them.

The journey thus far has grown me in grace beyond measure. Gracious people - to me - have everlasting beauty. So, as external beauty slowly starts to fade, I am all for gaining more grace. May we all strive for an internal beauty that surpasses what any app can manufacture.

P.S. FaceApp manufactured my profile pic. It feels nice to have a facelift without any of the pain!

Shiny and new

Do you ever feel like you’ve lost your luster? Like you’re not shiny and new anymore? How does one find their way back? Almost 20 years in and capturing the glimmer in the eyes of your beloved… what to do.

Adventure, constant kindness, braving new things - this seems as if it’s sometimes the ticket. Being fun, laughing, lighthearted, not so melancholy. Lord help us all to find the fun, breathless, and lightheartedness you so long for us to hold. The pressure of everything seems to rob this too much of the time.

May we sing, may we dance, may we walk in the light of your glorious gracious steps as we capture holy love and romance anew.

Sacred

Sacred

Every human, every action. If we believe we are the masterpiece, the poema of God (Ephesians) - it’s all sacred, every step.

I’m sitting in the meditation room at The Grotto in NE Portland - writing. A safe haven and sanctuary in the midst of the loud city.

This place has created an environment that help many find sacred space in the mind and heart.

I know many may balk at the idea of “meditation.” Did I mention this is a Catholic institution I’m sitting in right now? That may send some scurrying.

Why is it that now, I hold this place so sacred, but was so convinced they were the mark of the beast as a child? I’m a chaplain now.

Environments matter, states of mind matter… if we are walking poems and prayers and we have the personalities that need peace to do our jobs, we must find places that help us get there from time to time.

Jesus called us to peaceful solitude to reflect on Him, pray, seek His presence, His peace, His word for us for the day.

If you had all the money in the world, what environment would you create for others and yourself to find peace and healing?

Mine would look something like what my sister in Christ commissioned and created here at The Grotto.

You’re on my list

Sixth grade. Red nails. The student next to me, “You’re going on my list.” I asked, “What list?” (We had these little 3x5” card holders on our desk to hold our flash cards for memorizing the book of Ephesians). The student reached into their box and pulled out a lined 3x5” card and started to write my name down. The student replied, “My hate list.” Surprised, “Huh?” The student, “If you wear nail-polish, you’re going to hell.” Clear as day I can see the black and blue inked names on the list. Years later, my grandmother - “Your toes look like their bleeding.” Me, recalling the sixth grade student, “She thinks I am going to hell.” Sometimes it feels fancy to have red nails, extravagant. Sometimes extravagance is ok and no, I am not going to hell. I type better with red nails and a blingy $20 ring on. The princess inside of me likes to come out sometimes and that’s ok with my prince.

Depression

Depression doesn’t get the first say or the last say. Climbing stairs at Tabor this morning. Grateful to climb outdoors in crisp, clear weather and pissed that I can feel depression trying to move in.

Starving

I was starving

We had no food

Did you know how hungry

we were

I started roaming

To look for food

He fed me

What I didn’t know

It was poison

But it tasted good

You almost lost me

I almost lost me

I almost lost me

I almost lost me

You almost lost me

Bailey

Life is ruff. Sitting reading, writing, studying, and then getting distracted. This little monster is home and I couldn’t be happier to have him here. He’s the sweetest little Oscar the grouch that ever did exist. Why do we get dogs? They are just going to break our hearts eventually. Treasuring him in his eleventh year and savoring these sweet moments with him.

Wish

Today - three months to rest - to heal. Wishing I could lay on Dr. Ashley’s couch for the next seven hours and just talk, but that would cost a fortune. So, instead - I write. New favorite line from a song written by Semler “and there’s a galaxy behind your eyelids” off her album Stages of Breakdown.

Today, I recounted my last moments with Tami. Her cold arms, her dry lips. I promised to bring back do-terra oils to give a proper massage of hands and feet, but she died. It didn’t feel real until we gathered. I feel bad there wasn’t more time. We weren’t built for this life. I mean we were, but we weren’t… didn’t C.S. Lewis say or the Bible say “He put eternity in our hearts.”

I think her and I will probably learn to line dance someday in the future. I love to dance, but suck at it. We will laugh together.

I come from what feels like a giant family and really its probably not that big compared to others. Five of fifteen firsts will assemble this weekend here at our home. Cackling, creating, and who knows what else will commence.

Bailey will be back with us after his vacation at grandpa and grandma’s. The world just keeps spinning. I can’t look at the news right now, I feel fragile and that is hard to admit. I feel like one more thing could just split me open and I would never be able to get back up.

Yesterday, I was content - at peace. Today, grief. Tonight, salsa. Tomorrow, a plumber, the next day… Grateful, tired, achy, the list of feelings goes on. I can’t paint because my left hand is re-injured, which causes concern. What happens if I can’t paint, climb… reminds me of a Mary Oliver poem from the book Devotions that I desperately want back from a friend I lent it to.

God has provided me with so much grace because if I cannot do life? How is everyone else surviving?

Line up

The line up is tight today. The waves are pumping and the locals peer out from the rocky beach line waiting to beat people if they approach the point. Walking, writing, painting… a good morning indeed. What if the ocean was brown? Would we love it as much, I think not. Walking yesterday the waves were brown and it looked gross. Love milk chocolate muddy wheat fields, but brown waves? It’s all about color context right? If we grew up with brown waves, we’d think blue was gross… maybe? IDK. Captain random this morning, but love, love this weekend.

Subtle

Subtle the word of the morning. Could be dangerously good or dangerously bad. With all the big bombs going off, I was thinking about the dangers of the subtle things we do that can or cannot really damage situations or make dramatic difference for GOOD. How are we supposed to trust that our hearts are right? We must stay connected to LOVE and TRUTH. “Give us eyes to see and ears to hear” - a dangerous prayer. Subtle seeds (poetry in the making). The more I think about it though… we are good and bad - God will make the subtlety bad stuff good, yes - this makes me feel better. He redeems it. He is working for our good. Thankful for a loving Father, who takes our best efforts and refines it in the most mysterious, weird ways.

Foggy mornings

Crisp fall, foggy mornings. Oh my favorite. It feels as if the city was visited by sneaky, spinning, spiders last night. Blanketing even the garbage cans with webs. Maybe it’s just the fog that makes those webs glisten, but boy are they miraculous and beautiful. Here’s some shots from Bailey’s morning walk. Line, my favorite element of art.

Tabor in the Fall

I saw a pumpkin person today. Ready for the season dressed all in black, short and stout with a witch hat and jack-o-lantern purse. Were they coming from a preschool morning? Getting kids excited about the coming holiday? Was this their daily wear for the season? I have not one clue, but I admired their display. Turning heads whether they knew or not. A true artist out for a jaunt with nowhere to go or a day full of appearances. Love the city, love the country. Sounds of the city mixed with bird songs, they’ve learned to adapt - maybe I will too.

-Tabor in the Fall