Tuesday, July 28, 2009

holy hot city

I am melting. Portland is so HOT right now, and not in the Zoolander sense. It's five bazillion degrees in my apartment. I think I slept maybe an hour or so last night. A couple friends from out of town crashed my itty bitty studio on the way to Cannon Beach. I felt so awful that they had to lay in the misery of thick air that is my apartment at night. I went through a couple packs of frozen veggies last night, cooling me a tiny bit as they defrosted on my face. I am such a wimp when it comes to heat. My day might have been ruined when I looked up the forecast for the next few days at 3:30am only to see that today is supposed to be 105 and tomorrow a cooler 103 degrees. Ugh.


too hot.

i went to the beach last week and in looking at those pictures i want to rewind to the overcast and cloudy misty day that it was, glorious. maybe if i look at them long enough, it will just magically be cooler. here's to wishful thinking...

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

bigger than a building

Quiet. I've been reflecting a lot lately. I've been outside, enjoying Portland, enjoying the trees, enjoying the water. And I'm reminded that I love the outdoors. I see God in the outdoors, more so than in a church building and stained glass windows and I like that. God is bigger than a building. He cannot be contained in a building. He needs something much bigger and wilder than that.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

love this photo

I love the National Geographic photo of the day. I get it on my google homepage and i get so excited to check it everyday. The anticipation is kind of like Christmas. Well, maybe more like checking my horoscope or the soup du jour. Anyhow, I love this shot. That golden sunshine goodness and the silhouettes and America's favorite pasttime. so good.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

He whispers

"I'm going to make you brave", He whispers to me in the stillness of the breath I'm holding.

I know. I think that's what I'm afraid of.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Rose Garden watchings and musings

I’m sitting here at the Rose Garden. Instead of a solitary hike (which my mom deemed, unsafe for a young lady like myself), I opted for pretty scenery and reflective space. I set up camp in the mini amphitheater with my blanket, lil’ buddy (my ipod), book and journal. I read for a few minutes and was quickly drawn into prime people-watching all around me.

I watched the group of kids running across the lawn, running and screaming for as long as their lungs would allow to see who could scream and run the longest in one breath. The oldest girl was the true winner and won time and time again. The younger ones, took several breaths and ended up running out of eyesight every time, but convinced themselves they had won.

I watched a couple young girls put on a talent show on the stage. Performing 10 second performances of break-dancing and singing.

I watched a young boy and girl for a while, following their play and conversation. I watched the little boy jumping down the oversized steps beside me, with his face bright with adventure. His mom calls out, “Jason, what are you doing??”


With each jump he lets out an OOF…

He looks back with a big grin and yells, “CLIMBING!”

And continues his journey.

A young girl is following after.

He keeps looking behind to make sure she is following.


She has the same smile of adventure on her face as she follows where the boy leads. His excitement is brimming when he leads.

She calls out when they reach the bottom, “follow me!”

He stops and sulks into the grass, his face visibly fallen. He slowly gets up walking after her, but with no enthusiasm. It’s clear her doesn’t want to be led. His joy comes in the leading, in the adventure of forging the trail, in knowing that someone is following his lead.

I wonder to myself as I continue to watch them play if I too often default to my own lead- and my own independence. If I should step aside now and then and allow myself to be led.

...And now, the clouds have moved in and I’m sitting in the sprinkle of rain, wondering if I am going to stick it out. It seemed that just when I got comfortable and settled, enjoying the sunshine and warmth-clouds moved overhead. Though it’s still sunny, I am still sitting here in the midst and mist of rain.

I love how metaphorical weather and seasons can be and singers know it.

“it never rains when you want it to”

“for tomorrow may rain, I’ll follow the sun”

Change in weather always throws people off a bit. When it’s 90 degrees for a week straight and then it drops to 65 just like that, people don’t know what to think of it. I’ve noticed that the day the weather changes in any drastic way, first snow, or downpour after a dry spell, first sunshine after weeks of rain- those are the days the coffee house is busy. Not just for beverage needs. People need to discuss the change. They need to know that other people are experiencing and witnessing the change happening around them. Change is easier when you know you’re not alone.

Change is always difficult because it means, well, just that-change. Sometimes it’s welcome change. Other times change happens and we don’t want it one bit. We liked the way things were, settled and comfortable. I'm going to have to go back to change is easier when you know you're not alone and thank goodness we are never alone.

Saturday, July 4, 2009


All it took was a glance to the date on my computer screen.

Seven years ago today, you were still a teen

Early morning July 3rd, the dawn was breaking

And your own life you were taking.

I know you had your reasons

I would have told you that life is worth living

And that we all have our seasons

I hope at the very least in that last moment

You knew you were loved

By a great and loving God above.

This day comes around every year,

And the strength of your character becomes that much more clear.

Boy did you carry that sense of life

That passion inside that flowed from your hands

onto paper, walls and canvas

you believed that love could change the world

Can this?

Poetic words spoken from your lips

Into our ears, hearts and histories

“Live to love” you said,

“Create love and be free”

It took losing you for so many to finally see.

It’s undeniable, the strength you carried

From your first breath until the day you were buried

In all your ways you breathed humility

And in the end I’m reminded of life’s fragility.

I wish you were here.

There are so many things I’d like to tell you.

And share perhaps over a beer

Your life has touched mine and others

Many mothers, friends, sisters and brothers

If there is anything to gain

I want you to know your life was not lived in vain.

One last and little secret I can’t forget.

Remember those prank calls you used to get?

Your favorite songs

played to you by a random somebody

All those years ago,

yeah, that was me.

Much love, friend.

Brian Betz (1983-2002)

Thursday, July 2, 2009

oh ingrid, you say what i can't

Ingrid Michaelson....i can't get enough.

listen to this demo of her new song, 'walk away'.
beautiful. words. voice. harmonies.

"but i really know, that forevers, they come and go, so i'll hold on tight to letting go, 'cause i don't know when this love will walk away..."

oh ingrid, you say what i can't**

**words of a crazy Jenny Lewis fan at the Roseland, who also kept dancing and shaking her hair on me.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

almost poetry

(I apologize for being so verbose; this was written in a late night, sleepy state.)

some thoughts that resemble poetry..

I am a tattered and torn person in the process of becoming

Who it is I am meant to be

Into the image of the one I long to see

Transforming and changing

Imago dei.

If only I was cleanly cut with no jagged edges

Made to fit perfectly so,

Here and there.

Into the dreams I’ve so carefully drafted

Through the paths I’ve chosen

and will find again in pages unwritten

I’ve learned that the pieces don’t always fit just so

I’ve learned by going where he leads

and learning to let go

Must I still be learning?

I’m in love with our world.

That hurts and breaks

And in my hands I feel the warmth

When I hold them up to the wounds

In our world that is fallen and broken and crying out for hope

Daily I see pieces of a flawed and imperfect humanity

Yearning for redemption

Aching for heaven’s waters to spill over the earth and wash it clean

Yet, in the midst of a scarred world,

I can’t help but find myself in awed moments

Grateful for heartache,

That echoes within

And calls out to others

in a melody

that we all know

I am astounded by the immense weight of hope in the midst of suffering

In spite of dire odds and circumstance

We remain a people

Clinging to slivers of hope

And remaining faithful

As we lean a little more into

the next page

and into a love that is with us

until the end of the age.