It's snowing tonight

All week the snow has been melting, slowly pulling back to reveal wet ground and pavement, a hundred shades of gray and brown.
Tonight the snow came back, wet and heavy, maybe even enough to resurrect my plans for skiing in the new year with my sister..
It's funny, I think, how snow changes things. I was looking out the window as my aunt drove tonight, and was transfixed by what I saw..surprised to be admiring things I never would have noticed without the help of the snow..the huge black&white billboard on Getty street, some ad for the hospital. Normally a blight, suddenly framed by a gradient dusting of white snow, forming a halo pattern across the face of the happy patient. It was somehow luminous. More surprising to me was the way my my eyes were nourished by the tangled weeds on the barbed-wire security fence surrounding the factory that makes military vehicles (normally I feel distressed when I pass by that place)..coated in the falling snow, the weeds made a silvery web of intricate designs..the barbed wire seemed more like sculpture..
Snow can make even ugly things..different.

Currently ReadingTraveling Mercies : Some Thoughts on FaithBy Anne Lamottsee related



I walked into the living room to see my daughters busy with the nativity scene on top of my piano.. I started to scold them for leaning on the instrument and playing with grandma's breakable things, but when they turned around, my resolve melted.

"But they all came to see baby Jesus.", Willow said while Ginger nodded.
Behind them in the stable, small plastic Cinderella characters(Willow's first Christmas gift this year, at present time THE MOST treasured toys in our home) stood in an arc around the manger.
I took the nativity down so they could reach it, and now the figurines trek from castle to manger, manger to castle. And everyone is pleased.
Sometimes I get so caught up in discipline and consistency for the *result* that I miss the good stuff that can happen during disobedience..I'm glad I didn't miss it this time. Do you have stories about your own children - times they were caught, almost punished, then you saw something more profound going on?
---------------------------------------------------
I'm almost done with Traveling Mercies (by Ann Lamott), and I have loved it. I have read and re-read many of the stories, and today this quote stood out to me. I admit my ignorance concerning the author, Rumi, but like what he/she has to say here:
Keep walking, though there's no place to get to.
Don't try to see through the distances. That's not
for human beings.
Move within, but don't move the way fear makes
you move.
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and
frightened.
Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the
ground.
-RUMI
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happy thanksgiving

Today's family gathering felt weird to me - I've never spent a holiday without my daughters, and they are with their dad this weekend. I am happy that they will experience the normalcy of the family traditions they are used to at his grandparents' house. But it's just strange to spend Thanksgiving apart from the two things I'm most thankful for.
If you knew my daughters, you'd sense how special they are..touched by the divine, destined for lives of brilliance, spreading love and truth. You'd know that Willow is always thinking, always questioning. That she, at 4, has the beginnings of great wisdom. You'd see the vulnerability of her heart, the gift of it's tenderness and the risk of it's sensitivity to hurt. You'd be amazed by her eyes, like two perfect shining grey-green river stones. You'd know how hard these past months have been for her, and you'd weep when you couldn't make sense of it for her.
If you knew Ginger, you would laugh at how her name captures her temperment: sweet, strong, disarmingly spicy. You'd know that she is filled with passionate expression, propelling her to stormy tantrums and joyful exclamations. You would see how she captures the hearts of people everywhere she goes. You would remember the day this fall when she stood in the yard, threw her head back and commanded the wind to go where she wanted it to. You would know that she, at 2, lives expectantly, expressively, explosively.
And, if you were entrusted with the honor of being their mother, you would feel the weight of that divine responsibility, you would understand your vast shortcomings, you would beg God for wisdom equal to the task. You would know that these children will become strong, courageous, captivating women..more in spite of you than because of you. And you would be grateful to know that your body is where they were conceived, protected and nourished, brought into the world. That you got to be a vessel for these beautiful travelers. You'd pray every day,
bless them. protect them. use them.

All day long I'd biddy-biddy-bum..if I were a wealthy man!

Lately, Ginger has been getting very attached to certain films. It's old news that she's been watching Cinderella daily, and can quote nearly any part on command. Many of her musings start with,"Cinderella always says..."
But recently she fell in love with a new heroine, Eliza Doolittle. She can't watch all of it, but she begs for selected scenes from My Fair Lady, especially the horse race scene with all the ladies in their elaborate hats. "Where's Eliiiiza?" she'll ask anytime the camera cuts away from Audrey Hepburn's delicate features. She literally gasps at the part when Eliza descends the stairs in her ette gown and diamond choker, " and LOOK at her *bootiful* DRESS!". Total Awe.
Now, she's discovered Fiddler on the Roof. She loves Tevye, and watcs the first 20 minutes up until the 'Rich Man' scene with rapt attention. Right now, she and Willow are watching it and she's singing along. She likes the "Make a match-Make a match-Makuh" song best.
Willow's in more of a PBS morning medley kind of phase, and doesn't seem to be more attached to any one particular film. Start talking Arthur or Between the Lions, then you've got her attention. ;)
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If you're the praying sort, please pray for my grandpa(Papa), because he fell this morning and broke his hip. He's at Mercy for three days and then will be at the nursing home my grandma works at until he gets strong enough to lift himself. Thankfully, it won't require surgery. He had a stroke almost thirty years ago, and the years he's lived since then have been a literal miracle. The doctors didn't expect him to make it, and 90% of his frontal lobe is scar tissue. If someone is on life support, with that much brain damage, they're declared legally dead. He's been able to see his children marry, his grndchildren marry, and hold his great-grandchildren. I am reminded today that having the priveledge of growing up knowing him is one of the things I'm most deeply grateful for.
He requires alot of care, and my Grandma and Aunt Jen are tired after decades of providing it. So as you pray, please remember them as well.

Hunting for auditions

It's been over a week since I finished work on The Dread, and I am leaving no stone unturned as I search for the next job. I haunt Craigslist, ActorsAccess and AnnArborAuditions, and am scrambling to get better headshots done asap. I have said before that I want to save 10,000 before moving to LA, and I'm about one tenth of the way there. The dilemma facing me(and a similar one faces probably every actor at some point) is this: Do I take a chunk of my savings and spend it on headshots? Or save for headshots over a period of months and keep the savings account untouched?
What if I spend the money on great headshots, but for some reason I don't get more work as a result? And it takes us that much longer to get to LA?
Or, what if I *don't* get the headshots and I miss out on lots more work that would have helped my resume' and gotten us out west faster?
I'll figure it out, but today I just feel like time's wasting.
If finances weren't an issue(haha), we would move immediately. Here in Michigan, I'll be working through a temp agency and focusing on building my resume/training. In La, I'll basically be doing the same thing - and I'd rather be doing it there, where the resources and opportunities match my goals more closely. In this daydream, where money's not an issue, I'd jump at the chance to build a new life for the girls and I. We would immediately get involved with Mosaic, and start truly getting to know some of the fantastic friends I've met over the past year.

Reality: Money is a huge issue, and I have a long road ahead of me to get where we're going. I'm looking forward to the next piece of the puzzle.
Also reality: I will get there.

Moonlight Sonata

The walls of this old concrete house rumble with thunder,

This darkened room becomes illuminated with flashes of white light,

And every note of this treasured music soaks into my parched landscape like water..

The moonlight sonata feels like it's breathing, beauty and pain

blogthings.com is addictive..

Your Hidden Talent

You're super sensitive and easily able to understand situations.You tend to solve complex problems in a flash, without needing a lot of facts.Decision making is easy for you. You have killer intuition.The right path is always clear, and you're a bit of a visionary.

What's" Your Hidden Talent?

www.blogthings.com

Conversations

This week, Willow and Ginger have had some really sweet conversations I've been lucky enough to overhear. One from a few days ago happened in the hallway(recently converted into the 'gallery wall' by W and G). Willow was in a creative zone, adding finishing touches to one of her pen on paper projects she had hung earlier.
Cute conversation followed:
G: Oh, YES WILLOW!! I like ramen noodles! That is a GOOD picture-those are GOOD ramen noodles! Good JOB!!

pause

W: (slightly annoyed) It's not ramen noodles.

pause

G: It's not?

W: (exhasperated) no.

G: What is it?

W: Noah and the Ark..

long pause

G: Oh ...good job!
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Less Cute , just now:

W: this is your mask
G: (runs away screaming) NOOOOOO!!! Nonononono!
--------sound of footsteps rapidly retreating----
W: Fine then. I'll wear your mask....*and* I'll keep it forever and *ever*.
----------sound of footsteps rapidly returning---------
W: Don't hit! AAAWWAWWWW!!


I think it's bedtime. :)

I try not to let it get too quiet

.......
" A fixation can keep you nicely defined and give you the illusion that your life has not fallen apart. But since your life may indeed have fallen apart, the illusion won't hold up forever, and if you are lucky and brave you will be willing to bear disillusion. You begin to cry and writhe and yell and then to keep on crying; and then, finally, grief ends up giving you the two best things: softness and illumination."

From traveling Mercies, by Anne Lamott

.............

I am grieving the death of so much of the life I thought I knew. It is deep and dull and constant, like swelling. I drive with the radio on, I watch television, play with the girls, read them books, work out, fidget, talk on the phone or read many of your blogs. For the past two months there has been very little quiet in my life, not just because I'm busy and needed by the girls..but because I create distractions. As many as I can. I didn't consciously know I was doing it, but I've slowly been confronting myself over the past few days. realizing that I've been trying to move past this, get through this, but haven't let myself even begin to really grieve the loss. If I stay focused, busy, productive, it doesn't hurt as much. Because I think if it gets too quiet I will become aware of what's going on inside me, and I'm afraid to look at it. I'm afraid the pain of this loss will suck me inward and keep me there. I hope it won't. I hope that grief will reward me for being honest enough to lean into it, by letting me go. So, I am going to look at it, hopefully a little at a time. Every day I will try to create at least a few minutes of quiet, stillness in my body and thoughts. Because if I don't, if I just try to move on and forget and be happy on the surface, I think one day the entire load of sadness will hit me at once and knock the hope right out of me.

........................
" the depth of feeling continued to surprise and threaten me, but each time it hit again and I bore it, like a nicotine craving, I would discover that it hadn't washed me away."

Today was a strange tipsy-turvy thing. This morning I awoke to another day of partial blindness, at ten a.m....way later than my normal rising time which spun the day off a bit wierd.
Then, mid-morning the hot water heater began seeping all over the laundry room floor, and through a series of phone calls and a gracious visit by uncle keith, the diagnosis was clear: we need a new hot water heater, like, now.
Meanwhile, it became clear that my glasses and contacts would not be arriving in the mail today, which meant two more days of being stranded/trapped/blind/needy...so I began tracking down a place to get emergency glasses made (underline *cheap*)..
Found a place, but it was all the way in Grand Rapids. And I couldn't drive there because I couldn't even see my toes when I looked down.
An hour later, mom decided it would be a good idea for her to crawl under the house and turn off the water valve under the laundry room so the heater will stop leaking. Laying on her stomach peering through the mailbox-sized opening into the darkness while I kept guard, she decided it was less of a good idea.
My amazing friend Carma came straight from work, borrowed a great sweater which looked so much better on her( a cool soft green with her almost-black hair..striking), and drove me to Grand Rapids while I tried to apply makeup blind. Just because I can't see anyone doesn't mean they can't see me, I thought..is this eyeliner or lipliner??
Back up. When Carma came to get me we had to fly out the door to get to the eye place in time, as the sink spontaneously decided to join the water heater in the household revolt, springing a major leak and spewing water all over the kitchen floor...
At the eye place, a nice guy helped me find great 'smart girl don't mess with me' glasses very quickly. As he typed my address into the computer, he stopped, stunned. I live like three houses from there!, he said. Wow, he's got a long drive to work every day..
While Carma and I waited, we had a deep talk about life and our insecurities in the mall food court. Then we listened to a guy playing his guitar and singing, not a mall musician guy, the kind you'd hear in a smoky club in Chicago or Seattle..he sounded alot like Lenny Kravitz. With mall noise in the background, very unsettling..
On the way home Carma and I stopped at Krispy Kreme and imbibed. I had a coupon for a box of doughnuts and she touched *all* of them to see which one she wanted. I was incredulous, and we both laughed hard enough to burn off the calories from the doughnuts.
Once home, I took some Thera Flu to help with the crummy cold I'm fighting..but it made me feel very strange and not better, and definitely wired.
I got ready for bed, washed my hair in brain-numbingly cold water, and thought about how grateful I was to be able to see, and as I stood at the bathroom sink I glanced down at the drain, thinking how improbable and silly it was for me to drop a brand new contact down the drain. How stuff like this always seems to happen to me.
Then I took off my new glasses, and reached into the medicine cabitnet for my face wash. My hand bumped something as I pulled out the cleanser, and in slow motion I followed it's descent, hands grasping air, as my toothbush tumbled neatly down the drain.
I literally fell to the floor in hysterical laughter. My mom could not believe it - she helped me get it back and made a new rule: if I am in the bathroom, the plug must be in the sink.
Because I am not a normal girl, and normal things do not happen to me.

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Blurred Lines, Plenty of confusion

A wise sage once said 'if a mother goes blind, it is best to not tell the children.'

Actually, I made that up. Instead, it was Willow this afternoon who said skeptically, 'I never heard of a mom who can't see.' I squinted at her small form against the backdrop of the white stove behind her...

Last night I was washing my face and taking my contacts out as usual. They were brand new, the first day of wear, and I was aving trouble getting the right contact out of my eye. Then, to my relief, it was out. To my dismay, it was washwept down the drain of the sink I was leaning over.
It was my only pair of contacts.
I do not own glasses.

This morning, I explained to the girls why we had to stay at the house all day and cancel our appointments. That Mom couldn't see so it wouldn't be safe for her to drive, or even to walk across the acorn-strewn patio. So no playing outside either.
Then I made breakfast(pb&j toast), and after they had eaten and I tried to perform basic tasks like not tripping on the dog, I thought: when you can't see everything takes longer but it doesn't matter because along with your vision, time also blurs.
I realized at some point that Ginger was walking around with alot of jelly on her chin. and lips and nose and cheek. I didn't remember actully putting that much jelly on her toast...
As I groped my way toward her, stopping almost nose-to-nose, I figured out that it was not jelly. Lipstick, rather. In one of my favorite shades..so I asked her to show me the rest of the lipstick, and she led me to the bathroom wall.
I ws going to post some of my favorihoughts from Ann Lammott's Travelling mercies, but that will have to wait until I can actually read.
My face is four inches from the keyboard as I type this, and my mother is making fun of me..

And, no - I qwon't use spell check. It would be too hard to read and I think any possible errors in my typing are a testimoniasl to my cureent reality.

Mr Falafel and redemption

After a long day's work in Kzoo this weekend, I was really hungry. I drove toward this fantastic coffee house near Western that always has homemade vegan soups...but after I parked, I detoured into a small storefront a few doors down. Mr Falafel was calling my name. I'm a sucker for new dining experiences, especially mediterrenean, middle eastern, southeast asian..
I inquired and found out that the grape leaves I was eyeing contained onion. :( I let them know how I feel about onions and asked them to show me my options. The friendly punkrock boy behind the counter pointed at this platter piled high with flaky triangle pastries. He smiled and assured me that they were the way to go. Definitely no onions. I really liked his bracelets. I also ordered five pieces of baklava, so I could share some with my parents whose house I was headed to.
I drove away happy, tired and ready to enjoy the luxury of a fresh hot spinach pie. The steam from the takeout box was rising in lacy spirals.
I took one bite and very quickly realized the thing was *full* of onion. Grrrrrr....
I was so disapointed and made a mental note to not go out of my way to eat at Mr Falafel again, in case the same unpleasentness should result.
Oh, well.

But then, I had the baklava. Countless flaky layers of philo dough, crushed nuts, drenched in honey, somehow involving a paste made of dates...some of the *best* baklava ever. My memories of the onion mix-up quickly faded, I hardly remember now..when I think of Mr. Falafel, all I know is I have got to go back there and buy more baklava.

The long-term plan, very short version

..
save $10,000.

work temp jobs between(not instead of) acting jobs.

build new traditions and stability with Ginger & Willow

continue my education through weekend intensives and workshops at Kzoo Civic,
Purple Rose in Ann Arbor, and Second City in Chicago.

get involved with a faith community that will support the girls' growth

invest in friendships here and in LA

after a season of saving and healing, the girls and I will move to LA.

------------------------------------
to be continued ..

Ginger's Flute

Both of my daughters enjoy listening to music. They have preferences, and sing along, invent tunes of their own. I imagine this is typical for kids their ages. But I think Ginger may be one of those rare children who, at two years old, has 'caught it'. She *loves* music. You can tell when she's in a crowded restaurant and she tilts her head, gets a far off look in her eyes, and quietly listens, her ears searching behind the din to the faint, almost indescernable melody. And after a moment, she'll make you listen for it, too.
Both girls enjoy the car game we play while we listen to classical or jazz and try to identify the instruments. I'll start by introducing one of the sounds, then we all listen closely and wait for it to go away and return throughout the song. Ginger's ability to remember the one instrument's sound for the entire composition is uncanny for a toddler. Just recently she's begun to recognize the flute(her current favorite) in songs when we're not even playing the game! I've also noticed she has strong likes and dislikes: jazz/fascinating, country/tolerable, classical/great, eighties rock/punishable, top 40 pop divas/scoffed at, real bluegrass/likes it, hip hop/loves it, royal tennenbaums soundtrack/rapt bliss. The only gray area so far seems to be rap.
And they dance. Both of them, every day, and today Willow showed me a variation on her favorite: "arabesque on a chair" without falling. I was very impressed/relieved.

Thinking out loud

Every day I seem to be faced with lots of decisions, both urgent/immediate and ambiguous/future staring me down..I'm muddling my way through it, and swinging between "I can do this - I'm making good choices and thinking with remarkable clarity!" and "what day is it again? " . Because the things that wear me out the most aren't those urgent decisions, but the endless and complicated small ones, each bringing their own set of consequences that will affect not only me, but the girls as well.
I struggle every day to keep the truth in my consciousness: I don't have to do this perfectly..there's no 'perfect' way to help your children through such an imperfect situation...the girls will adapt, I will adapt, the future is bright for us..
But lies sneak into my thoughts when I least expect them(and especially when I'm worn down emotionally), crowding past all the pleasant and healthy things in my mind, shouting: You can't do this - you will fail. You already have. You're ruined. The people you love will let you down. The people you love the most don't feel the same way about you.

I know they're just lies, and I'm pretty sure everyone hears them - sharp untruths tailored to custom fit our situations, cutting our vulnerable places. I just think it's sad that the truthful, lifegiving thoughts have to be intentionally inserted, protected, memorized and returned to.. while discouragement enters our thoughts uninvited, forcefully, and seems to capture our attention so easily and fully.

The heaviness of this post may lead you to believe my day was all bad; it wasn't - I have a lot to be grateful for and I had some moments of real freedom and joy. I believe tomorrow will bring more of them.

The adventures of Marge and Lara..

Today my father's mother Marge and my sister Lara are on a plane to the east coast. They both volunteered to assist the Red Cross in Hurricane Relief, and both ended up being assigned to the same call center. They even got put on the same flight...this may not sound extraordinary to you, but if you knew these women..
Drastically different personalities and lifestyles, appearances, ways of communicating..
But both fiercely opinionated, independent, intelligent, worldly..
Alone, they each change the temperature of a room when they walk in - eyes turn to them, people instinctively take notice - they bring a bold perspective and self assurance.
Together, in this context, in one building just cubicles away from each other..
you'd better brace yourself, D.C. !

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I have one sick four yr old today - we didn't get much sleep last night..probably a touch of the flu, and hopefully just a 24 hr one. This has been the first chance to implement a new tradition: what we call a 'snuggle-down day'. These days happen when someone isn't feeling well, and it means staying in your PJ's, drinking lots of tea while wrapped in grandma's woolen/sherpa blanket, and watching Cinderella and old Michelle Kwan videos, alternately, as many times as we want.
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I'm excited to start a new project this month, excited because it's my first credited role in a feature film, excited because it's the first project for which I don't have to furnish my own wardrobe..excited because I get to work with a team of people that are laid-back, fun, and knowledgeable.
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More later about plans for the immediate and less immediate future.
Have a beautiful day!

I'm back

When I posted last, I said this blog was on hiatus. My life has changed irrevocably, and I've spent the last month beginning to adapt to the way things are now. I don't want to explain everything here( I feel like I've had to do too much of that lately and I'm sick of hearing myself), so if you want more details you can read Justin's xanga.
I want to keep this site going but I don't know how it will work exactly. I have to be honest when I write, so be forewarned that my posts will likely reflect the emotional rollercoaster I'm experiencing in my personal life.
I appreciate all of you who read - some of you have already been walking through this with me, and I am grateful to know you. What I need from everyone right now is love and prayers..I realize that many people have very defined opinions about these kinds of situations; and some feel compelled, even 'compelled by god', to share those views. I have already encountered some of these well-meaning people, and heard a variety of their counsel, so.. please know that if I need advice, I'll ask for it.. I love all of you.
The girls are amazingly resilient..more about them, and life, later.

hiatus

I think I'm going to be taking a break from blogging for a few weeks, so if you see a lack of posting - the site's not abandoned, just on hiatus. In the meantime, if you want to get in touch, I'll still be checking my email and I'd love to hear from you.
Here's something sweet to look at in the absense of words:

Respite

For days most of us have been assailed with horrifying images detailing the tragic chaos on the Gulf Coast. Although I hate forwards, I opened one today to see this image...and it was refreshing to see a spot in the world that is brimming with life and beauty. Just for a minute, I was able to give my heart and eyes a rest from the distress of what's happening..my stomach turns at the thought of those who don't have the same luxury, whose reality is quite literally a nightmare today. God help them.
(picture taken 50 miles due west of bakersfield, ca)

Katrina

All week I've been crawling the walls because I hate not being there to DO something..watching the news tonight I just wept so deeply for each person I saw - I started out determined to remember names as they were mentioned, but there were so many..the only one that has stuck in my memory is Hayden, a premature infant stranded at the hospital where the brave nurses and doctors struggle to keep the NICU babies alive.
I just didn't have any words to say in the face of something so overwhelming, and tonight I am *very* grateful that the Spirit intercedes for when we don't know what to say. My heart is wide open in one wordless bleeding prayer for everyone suffering.
(taken from a comment on a friends blog, because I didn't have the right words today..)

Why Kalamazoo is one of Michigan's coolest cities..

I've been spending a lot more time downtown lately because of rehearsals and visiting my stepmom(she was in Bronson for surgery for a few days, and is now home recovering well)..
The more I explore Kazoo, the more I love it. I think every great city has a personality of it's own - I'm enjoying uncovering the many facets of interest here.

I miss the lakeshore and relationships of Muskegon; the sense of roots and familiarity I feel when I drive back up 31 past Holland, International Aid, the approaching Apple Avenue exit..
I dearly miss the friendships I had/have there, and the closeness of family..

But when I think back to what I miss about Michigan, and the cities there, Kalamazoo's downtown will be the one I pine for.
Why is it so much cooler than Muskegon? I think because it's artsier.
Because just this week, I've walked past the Epic and the State Theater, rehearsed in the Civic, eaten at Burdick's, written at Zazio's, sipped the world's best anise tea at Waterstreet..lingered in Terrapin, pondered at Food Dance, lay in the grass by the fountains at Bronson Park, and absorbed the beauty of the galleries at Kalamazoo Institute of the Arts.
I plan to take a dance class at Wellspring, spend a Friday night at the Art Hop, and attend a show at the intimate New Vic theater..
Because if you live in Kalamazoo, there is no excuse for saying "there's nothing to do tonight"..
Maybe I'm crazy - maybe Muskegon has as much uniqueness to offer and I just never took the time to look for it.
Some of you who read this blog live in Muskegon(you know I love you and my hometown)..what do you think? What unique/enriching things are there to do that I may be missing?
________________
P.s. spellcheck wanted me to replace 'michigan' with 'masogynist', and 'artsier' with 'hardcore'..just one more reminder never to trust your computer to proofread for you!

when at first i don't succeed,

nothing short of expletives could express my frustration right now. i just finished a long, personal, gratifying post and my internet connection faltered as i hit 'publish', losing the entire thing! grr..
i definitely can't retype it so here's the bare bones version:

i almost drove to detroit tomorrow a.m. for an audition for a lead in a dreamworks film starring beyonce' knowles. i stopped myself when i realized the call was for plus-sized african-american women only...most of me was glad i caught that detail *before* trekking to the metro, but i admit the storyteller in me wished i had missed it and gone - it would have made great material...

today i saw melvin, my favorite cat who lives at mom nakamura's farm. he was born in my closet when i was an adolescent, and my mom gave him to justin's mom a couple of years ago...a lanky, neurotic, slightly aloof creature..he's really happy there now, but when he sees me, he always saunters up and looks right in my eyes(cats usually don't do that), stares right into them and makes his gravelly 'smoker's meow' sound. and sometimes he presses his small golden forehead against mine and just leaves it there for a long moment. i think i'm his conduit to another world full of feline memories... justin says he's probably thinking,"you remind me of this girl i knew once a long time ago..."

last night at rehearsal for camelot, we danced for three hours straight..or, i should say, they danced - i tried to act the part of dancer. please pray for the young man who has to pick me up and twirl me in a circle...he had to do it probably fifteen times last night..and if i weigh$$$, and he lifted me 15 times, that means he lifted a total of #!*%, which means you should pray for him.

we helped mom pick up about 250 bales of hay from the field today, which is a pretty small load compared to what we're used to. As we stood around after throwing the last bale up onto the trailer, we looked at the neighboring field and joked at the trail of bales dropping behind the farmer's baler as it chugged along..
"good thing that's not OUR hay! heh heh.."
"OH NO! guys, we have to start all over and pick up that WHOLE field too!!.....HAHAHHA!!! just kidding!"
"seriously, isn't it nice to have a small load for once?"

yeah, you can see it coming. i got a call at 10 pm from mom nakamura, who had just gotten a call from the farmer, who wondered why we didn't pick up the neighboring field of OUR HAY! so mom and the volunteer who's staying the night(our valiant courtney-you met her last week digging trenches and staying on a bucking horse) converged with justin in the field. right now, in the dark, the three of them are loading several hundred bales onto trailers that have already been loaded and unloaded once today..
for those of you who haven't thrown hay before, here are a few fun facts:
each bale weighs between 50-80 lbs.
each person lifts almost every bale since it works best in an assembly line.
to protect your legs from hay rash, you wear long heavy jeans even in the late summer heat.
you brave the rash with your arms because it's simply too hot to bear long sleeves as well.
for days afterward, the people you interact with are divided into two categories:
those who have done hay before and wordlessly understand,
and those who ask you what kind of rabid hamsters attacked your arms..

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My family attracts craziness.

Today I was thinking about what to write. I wanted to relate something funny, something almost unbelievable but true..just a little commentary from my crazy life that would, hopefully, provide a laugh. But so far, I've got nothing.
I guess I'll have to use this recent post from my sister's crazy life instead
In case that link didn't work or you didn't realize what I'm suggesting, you should visit this site www.marmarllama.blogspot.com and peek at a day in the life of Mary.

Today..

..a riding arena flooded with two feet of water..

My sister Mary and several volunteers frantically digging a trench to drain it..tiny teenage girl volunteers with nerves of steel..a fifty-foot long trench through the arena, roundpen, pasture..

Sporadic rain from ominous grey skies slowing their progress, most of them barefoot, up to their knees in mud...

Prayers lifted to God from many people asking for the weather to clear quickly..

Determined but weakening diggers rescued by a godsend with a Bobcat who carves a deep trench through the mud...for the next two hours the volunteers use shovels to keep the water moving through the trench..

A long pipe is found and laid in the trench, covered with gravel, packed with dirt, creating a permanent solution to the arena's chronic flooding problem...

more students arrive..

staff directing as horses are bathed, manes combed, tails braided, coolers carried down, the information tent is set up, sound system checked, fences are mended...

more rain..

more prayers..

a hole in the clouds forms above the farm, the sun comes out in brilliance, a strong breeze dries the damp ground...

the arena that was too dangerous to ride in is finally ready for the students to practice, and they do - quickly..

soon the hill is dotted with a dozen people, then scores, finally 175...

True Vine Equestrian Center's Annual Outreach has started.

Two trumpets split the air as a flag drill is seamlessly executed by two of the student volunteers who were earlier covered in mud...

The star of the costume parade is "Miss Dottie White", who is painted all over with brightly colored polka-dots, ridden by her young owner and TVEC student, also painted with dots..

Kaylie, Lauren stun the audience with their riding skills as they glide over three-foot jumps on Paco & Murphy..

Courtney makes the audience gasp as she finishes her cloverleaf drill on Pepper at a dead gallop and he bucks..they don't know that's normal for him, or how fearless Courtney is..

a reporter & a photographer from the Kalamazoo Gazzette covering the event..

each student gets introduced, praised as they show off what they've learned this year..

Justin gives his best demonstration *ever* with Duke and Aslan, using them to communicate truth about God and us..

Kids riding the "bucking bronco", a blue barrel with a western saddle that has become a legend in town..no way can you stay on for eight seconds..

kids hurled off the bronc into big piles of hay..laughing

lassos flying, landing empty..teenage boys showing each other up..

dozens of children waiting to get their faces painted..spiderman, turtles, butterflies, horses..lots of horses..

at the end of the day, tired/exhausted/completely happy people sitting around the bonfire talking about what God had done..

but He wasn't done.


Justin and I have been car-less for weeks. It's been stressful, unavoidable, ill-timed. Generosity from great friends who have lent us their truck made it workable..still stressful.

Justin walked up the hill to help one of the True Vine board members jump her battery. One of Mom's best friends, she also attends our church. Five minutes later, he had started her car, and she had given us one.

A red sports car. It needs work, but *much* less than our other vehicles need. It is beautiful. I've never had a car you could call beautiful. We went to her home to see it, and her husband gave us 18 eggs from his free range hens..and venison..and vine-ripened tomatoes from her garden..

They didn't know we needed food. This week was tight, and payday's tommorow, and those were exactly the staples we needed. God takes such good care of us.

In the middle of the event, I turned to see two faces I have missed for almost two years. Brian Kopps and Angie Erickson were two students from our youth group in Muskegon. We were so close, those kids stole our hearts and it was incredibly painful to have to leave them. They surprised us with their visit, and it absolutely made our day/week/summer! Brian & Angie, if you're reading this(and you'd better be since I gave you the address), we loved seeing you today - you still have our unconditional love!

Visits from long-lost friends are the *best* kind of surprises.
And red sports cars aren't bad either.

Today was like a present from God, starting with a catastrophe(flood) that became a blessing(drain field), stacked with countless more before the day was done...thanks, Daddy.

8 months and counting

Most of you know that Justin and I are planning to relocate to L.A. in April/May of 2006. We are saving, hoping, and downsizing in preparation for this move. If you visit our home during the next few months, you will see our material possessions paring down to only those things which matter most to us.

We are simultaneously very excited about this adventure for our family, and very sad to leave the people we love in Michigan. We have spent a great deal of time praying about this decision and weighing the possible outcomes, and feel that part of our God-given role in history is to intersect with what He's doing in urban LosAngeles.

The reaction of the friends and family we have spoken with directly has been mostly supportive, but it has also been our impression that some of you who have concerns(coming from a loving heart toward us which we are so grateful for) may not be bringing them to us personally. Guys, we can take it! ;)

Please understand that I'm not saying that our decision to move is going to change. We are very clear about what we feel God's direction is for our family. But we love you, and care about what you have to say...so call, email, comment..

I plan to post more about our reasons for moving West, what we plan to do there, etc. in the coming months, but here's a very brief summary so far(details subject to change without notice) :

When we arrive in LA, we will be either A) in married housing at one of several schools Justin is considering, or B) in a small apartment in Los Feliz, or C) doing something we haven't thought of yet.

We will be getting very involved with Mosaic (www.mosaic.org), and I plan to develop relationships with other moms through involvement with SHE,(www.mosaic.org/she/) their women's movement. It's nice to know there's an already established community of people waiting for us there..for me, that will make the transition so much easier("church-shopping" is one of my *least* favorite things to do).

I hope to start classes at Playhouse West (www.playhousewest.net) as soon as possible once we're there. Both Justin and I will work, but my job will be part-time ideally to allow time for auditions and classes.

Finding the right school/childcare is our main priority, and one I'm already researching.

One more thing.. I am sipping hot fresh-brewed chai tea with milk & lots of honey from a mug made by my own Aunt Anne ( a seasoned and gifted potter), my favorite mug that's glazed with beatiful mottled blues, and says on the side, "HOPE". As I breathe in the scented steam, I think : I always feel beautiful when I drink from this piece of clay.

Paisley's Persistence

As I've been catching up on friends' blogs and my email tonight, our dog Paisley has been trying to entice me with her ratty little grey dinosaur. This miniature stuffed toy was in the basement of this house when we moved in, and she immediately began loving it. We thought it was a gross little creature so we banished it to live outdoors, but she has kept it safe from the elements for a year now..it pops up all over the lawn but never gets lost, has been washed by rain, snow, and dog spit..
Sometimes she sneaks it in the house, and tonight is one of those times.
I have been warding off her advances for the better part of an hour, but she wouldn't give up. I finally picked up the dino by it's tail and gave her a puppet show. I made it long and melodramatic, culminating with the dino creeping up to her nose and climbing onto her face.
She sat with rapt attention through all of it, not moving a muscle except to cock an eyebrow at the silly voices coming from her much-loved object. She especially liked the ending when the dino leapt into her jaws with a high pitched cry.
She asked for an encore. I hid the dinosaur.

I recommend the ginger-curry blend

So Ginger has learned how to get out of her crib.
She's also the earliest riser in our home.
She's also a bit of a renegade at heart.
Which explains this.....

The morning before last I was peacefully dreaming when I was jolted from sleep by a twenty-five pound blow to the head. Or, I should say, partially jolted from my sleep. As my old first hour teacher Irish Dave can tell you, it takes alot to get me out of bed in the morning(my chronic lateness in his class was due to this).

The blow was actually Ginger landing on my head as she vaulted onto my pillow. In my half-awareness as Justin got up I remember thinking, " she smells..good...but is that a normal baby smell?"

The next thing I remember is hearing Justin's dismayed voice from the kitchen.
Apparently Ginger had made a pitstop between her bedroom and ours.
The thing about curry is that if you find the right bulk food store, you can get large quantities for a steal.
All over the inside of the fridge there were piles of the spice powder..on every shelf, each nook and cranny.
It was like an experiment in culinary forensics as we cleaned up the kitchen..the fine golden dust that coated everything showed perfect outlines of tiny footprints and finger marks, small piles of the spice where the vandal had crouched to rest.
Justin said that Ginger had wet, caked on curry all over her face, especially around her mouth. We do not know how much curry she ate, but later that day we saw...confirmation...that a significant amount had been ingested.

Thankfully this story is one we can laugh about and fairly harmless.

We have devised a strategy for catching her in the act next time she gets up too early and looks for mischief...but remembering when Willow went through this phase makes me think we are in for a nerve-racking road for awhile..

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Analogies Gone Wild

Sunday I sat in the Imagine service on the right near the front of our small sanctuary so that it would be easy for me to get up front with the band to sing. Justin was teaching about a familiar story from the bible..Potipher's wife wants to sleep with Joseph and repeatedly throws herself at him. Here are some highlights from Justin's message(In bold), interspersed with my thoughts(in italics):

"Now, most of us could turn down a temptation once. But when it's repeatedly put in front of you, you're more likely to give in eventually.."

I was with him so far..

"The verse says that not only did Joseph turn her down, but he avoided her as much as possible. Like, imagine with me that you have an addiction to Krispy Kremes. And every day, on your way to work, you have to drive past a Krispy Kreme store. At first, you could probably withstand the urge - you don't have time, you're trying to lose weight, you don't have the money. But day after day the "Hot Now" light calls to you, and before long you begin to rationalize that God must *want* you to stop, or the Hot Now light wouldn't happen to be on at that moment! You're only fifteen minutes late for work... but as the pounds add up and the money runs out, as your job suffers you realize: wouldn't it have been easier to just find an alternate route to work?"

Hm. I have a hard time with analogies, because my brain begins to break them down and I get distracted..but that's not his fault and people seem to be connecting to it, so..

"..So what we can learn from Joseph is.."

The story makes sense, the analogy makes a measure of sense...but how do they fit?


" that when he saw her "Hot Now" light was on -"

General gasp from congregation...Justin pauses as he realizes what he's said, looks at the ceiling, then offers,


"Man. That was alot closer than I meant it to be. Hm. Must be from God! Heh, heh.."

Congregation laughs, tension is broken as they prepare to hear the rest of his teaching like mature adults...

...but instead..

"..when he saw that her "Hot Now" light was on, he didn't(searching), he knew(got it), he knew(with confidence and hand gesture) ...that those were not his doughnuts!"


I could see the innocent surprise on his face as realized he had made it worse. By this point I was convulsing with laughter that was as silent as I could manage, fully aware that my reaction was visible to the entire congregation who would no doubt be even more distracted by their crude pastor's wife than the unfortunate analogy had already left them..but once I get the giggles it's hard for me to stop - and if it happens in an inappropriate setting, all the harder.

So, I rallied all my resolve to get my composure, and I *almost* had it - I really did, when:
I glanced up and saw the madly grinning, panting, *drooling* face of our dog Paisley staring at me from the balcony!!!!

This was simply too much. Noone else saw her, and she was drooling on the head of the oblivious woman beneath her! I succumbed to hysterics and covered my face as much as possible with both my hands as I hurried from the room. People who didn't know I was laughing probably thought I was crying..

I had been looking for that crazy dog all morning..just never occurred to me that she may sneak up to the balcony to watch the service.

Ludington has llamas.

I'm back, but it's 2 in the am, so I don't plan on this post being deep, thoughtful, or even very coherent..

Camping was more exhausting than fun, but still very fun.

Ginger fell and split her eyebrow so badly we almost had to take her for stitches.

It helps to always camp with a pediatric nurse who can turn a camper into a clinic at 1 in the morning and pull "Steri - Strips" out of her bag, which apparently are as good as stitches.

A bleeding 2 yr old doesn't care how effective Steri-Strips are..

We ended up at a street festival in ludington where musicians were playing for tips every fifty feet along the main road.

There was a booth where ladies were selling organic corn chips with organic salsa.

I bought some for a dollar even though I wasn't hungry, because it seemed like the right thing to do.

I found a bluegrass band called the Mountain Town Moonshiners that was incredible.

Sitting in the front row listening to the band, next to a grizzly-looking bearded man in a neck cage(for his broken neck?), was a brown llama.

As I absorbed that surreal picture, I began to notice the others..at least six llamas wandering in the festival.

Later on, same injured grizzly Beard Man walks by with a white parrot perched on his neck cage.

I lost my bag of organic corn chips and salsa.


The festival goers, rich tourists and surly locals, all seemed to think the llama thing was normal.

going up north tomorrow..

Sorry this blog has been silent for a few days. I was in detroit for two days working, and when I got back thursday night there was worship band practice, then friday a group yard sale at my friend Lisa's, chores at Mom's, dinner at Jeanette's(Mom's best friend), more chores at Jeanette's, a 10 pm trip to the laundry mat(washer's broken) in a borrowed truck(car's broken), 1/2 hour drive to Lawrence to borrow my Dad's canoe(found out it's infested w/ wasps.), long talks with sister Lara/Dad/Jane, a mug of plantation mint tea(nice and strong), and back to the laundrymat to dry clothes, home by 1:30 am, packed haphazardly, in bed posting this blog by 2:10 am. Getting up to catch our ride up north for the annual Little Northwinds camping trip at 8:30 am.....
so.
This will be my last post until next Saturday when we return to civilization and internet access.
I hope your week is filled with more rest than my evening has had! :)

BIG relief.

It was a fun show, a challenging show, a chaotic whirl. We closed on Saturday, and I know we were all ready to be done..
The picture above doesn't show me(hey - it's a party..I'm probably by the snack bar), but most of the cast is visible.
Sarah has the blue dress in the center, Kelly is in the dark suit, and Doug lights up the stage in a white flash. In the back with the beard is Roger, who I have gotten to know and love after doing a couple of shows together. These are just a few of the people who are a huge part of why I'm active in community theater. I love connecting with people who I would otherwise never meet, a vast spectrum of personalities brought together by a common passion.

Tomorrow or Wednesday I go to Detroit for another project, then a break until Aug. 15 when rehearsals for Camelot start (this will be a beautiful show & I'm so excited about being involved!)..this is my first show with the Civic: lots of challenge(I'm not a dancer yet), a director I respect(I took a comedy workshop with him last year), lots to learn, and a whole new group of people to love!


www.ppvp.org

A Prayer attributed to St. Francis

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

Willow & Ginger's Frog Prince..

This morning we woke the girls up, fed them breakfast, and waited for their surprise visitor. At promptly 8:21 am, Grandma Kern arrived at the door, and we set off on our mystery trip. After an hour of driving and vague answers to the girls' curious questions, we finally admitted that we were on a journey to find the *perfect* parking lot. We found it in Coldwater and cheered as we parked. Willow eyed us incredulously("We drove all this way for pavement?", she must have been thinking)..
Ginger cheered along with the majority , unsure of why a parking lot could be so exciting, but willing to humor us.

Satisfied with our triumph and about to load the girls up for the trip home, the adults happened to notice that their Perfect Parking Lot was directly across the street from the Tibbits Opera House...and there were children entering through the stained glass doors..excited children.

Minutes later, the secret out at last, Willow and Ginger settled into their seats and experienced their first encounter with theater.


"The Frog Prince" was an enchanted blend of wistful songs, a beautiful princess, an evil-yet-fascinating snake, and a misunderstood prince..
At intermission, we were lavished with popcorn and koolaid in the gallery basement of the theater. In the middle of a sea of children and Grandmas , Ginger busied herself with scooping up all the fallen popcorn and eating it as fast as she could. Until we realized what she was doing. I really don't know how much she got before we caught on, but she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

In the end, the prince got his kiss, the snake was defeated by the deafening whistles and shrieks of 200 children, the princess got her treasure back, and we all left happy.

Fessing up

These words from Sacred Space today convicted my heart.

I need to close out the noise, to rise above the noise;The noise that interrupts, that separates,The noise that isolates.I need to listen to God again.

I am so inconsistent in the intentional time I spend meditating on God's presence in my life. I choose to let other things crowd up my time; things that, no matter how good, cannot feed my soul like time with my maker..
And worse, I am inconsistent in the desire to pray, and the hunger to become more like God in heart and character..

Most dangerous of all, I am too often so preoccupied with trivial concerns, so self - focused, that I forget to be sorry for all of this. And the longer I ignore the need to confess my shortcomings to my Father and allow him to change my life, the less pressing that need feels.

I am so glad that God does not choose to treat me the way I often treat him..
His love is the kind that doesn't give up..

..Love does not alter when it alteration finds,
Or bend with the remover to remove..
Oh no, it is an ever fix'ed mark..
william shakespeare

enjoying the break..

Since sunday's matinee performance of BIG, I have been spending my time relaxing, playing with the girls, playing cards and grilling out with friends, and reading Pride & Prejudice, which I am determined to finish before tonight when BIG resumes. I have been completely satisfied by this book so far..it is rare for me to enjoy a romance novel, but Austen writes with wit & intelligence that make the language of the story just as interesting as the characters within it.

Willow has been counting the days for months, and Monday, her anticipation became reality: we got in the car, drove to the Dance Zone in PawPaw, put on her leotard and she pranced into her first ballet class.

She told me not to watch; that I could just read my book. I kind of listened, actually not at all - there was a two way mirror for the parents to observe the class, and I couldn't take my eyes off her the entire hour. She was having so much fun...she payed attention for about half of the time, while the other half I could see that she was daydreaming :) ... don't know where she gets that.

So, today I feel really sick. It's been a long time since I've been ill, so at first I was confused about why I felt so..heavy. When I woke up this morning it felt like my whole body was weighed down from the inside with mortar. Or oatmeal. Like 100 lbs of oatmeal filling every limb, making me move in slow motion..
Funny thing about when a mom gets stuck in slow motion: her children seem to zip through the house in super-fast-forward; making messes, having arguments, and inventing elaborate games at the speed of light..
I am counting down the hours until their lunch and nap, which will herald the arrival of the part of today I most look forward to - my nap.

we're not afraid dot com

This website was started after the London bombings by a private citizen, and images have been posted from people all over the world. Some of the pictures are beautiful, some disturbing, many are powerful. More powerful is the message they send, untainted by the propoganda of government and professional media: that all over this planet, there are people who refuse to live in fear. www.werenotafraid.com

28 years ago, an adventurer was born..

.... and he has been exploring ever since.

I'm so glad our journeys came together into one epic adventure!
Happy Birthday, Justin - You are a patient, faithful, fun husband..and an incredible father to Willow & Ginger.

We love you!
Katie Rose

Justin and I are going on a mini-adventure tomorrow..

and I'll write all about it when we're done. Hint: it involves sleeping overnight in a parking lot.

Thinking out loud...

as i was reading today's prayer at sacred space, i was remembering the times when i've been part of groups where god's presence was most sweetly felt..deco tec, the youth organization justin & i used to work with; center lake bible camp; times of prayer with family & close friends..
i miss those times, but it's not just that i wish i could revisit or recreate decotec or center lake..it's what they all had in common that I wish to recapture. Each of those settings was marked by an atmosphere of unconditional acceptance. Everyone was accepted no matter what..
why don't we experience god's presence sweetly in our worship services more? is it because our gatherings aren't places where everyone finds unconditional acceptance? is it possible that the movement of god's spirit is terribly hindered by the measurements and qualifications we place on each other?
what would happen to our worship services if we could learn to accept everyone there, regardless of whether they see the world the way that we do? and why is that so hard to do?
hm...

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I'll be in and out for the next week or so..

Dress rehearsals for BIG have started, and the show opens Thursday, so my presence here will be sporadic for the next week...but I'll try to post as often as I can.

If you're the praying sort, would you mind praying for me tonight? Yesterday at rehearsal, a young girl from the cast( 15 -ish.. and a neat kid) got into a heated argument with another castmate about whether the bible is true. What could have been an interesting discussion turned ugly because she was so focused on proving her point and being right/ convincing him, that she failed to treat him like a human being. I cringed as I overheard this, remembering my zealous(and often inconsiderate) "witnessing" attempts at her age.. to sum it up, the man she was talking to lost his temper(" it's because of PEOPLE LIKE YOU that I'm still screwed up and f-ing around" was the gist of it), she left the room dejected, and after several of us calmed him a bit, I went to see if she was o.k.

She was certainly misguided and passionate in the argument, and when I caught up with her she was declaring how she was going to show up to tonight's practice with "100's" of pages of evidence that would prove to him the Bible was true.
Oh, honey.
She's fifteen, and all of us at fifteen(and often me now) struggle with a desperate need to be understood and agreed with..

She asked if we could talk tonight, and I need God's help. I want to treat her with love as I gently remind her that what people really need can't be drilled into them through a war of words, and that although her passion and earnestness are admirable, we all need to remember that our purpose here is to love God and love people. Period. And if we lose sight of that( as I know I have countless times) because we're trying to "win" the argument... we become part of the problem.. and they can't see God in us unless we're loving them.

These won't be easy things to hear..and I'm definitely not an authority on love; more like a skewed work-in-progress.. at her age, I was leaving tracts on my parents' kitchen counter and thinking that I was helping "win them" to Christ... not considering their feelings and too afraid to engage them in spiritual discussions in case I didn't have all the right answers..

But I hope that I can communicate these things to her in a way that encourages her rather than leaves her feeling attacked...because even now I need to remember that people are more important than making myself understood.

What is your reaction to this?

I Was Right(it happened many times)

as a Catholic... I was right

when I became a Jehovah's Witness... I was right.

when I "got saved"... I was right.

as a Pentecostal... I was right.
when I became a charismatic... I was right.
when I joined the local Baptist church... I was right.

in all of the arguments with my boss, my wife and various motorists... I was right.

when I volunteered to help re-elect Bush 41... I was right.

as a Republican... I was right.

as the parent... I was right.
even now... I am right.

it's funny how often I was right and yet ruined so many relationships.

I now think, the only time I'm right is when I model Jesus and value people over my ideas,
my theology,
my preferences,
my political views

and even <>>gulp<<> me.

Thanks to author Octavio Martinez for allowing me to use this...lots of interesting conversations happening over at his xanga site...click on the title of this post or the link below to check it out..


www.xanga.com/ocmartinez

Shameless Promotion of My Favorite Band in 3....2....1....

Sytek & Davies have released a new album this summer, From The Shadow of the Citadel.
You can hear samples of their unique folk-fusion tracks at their website, www.sytekdavies.com

They're fresh, creative and bold artists who live their craft, and I'm not just saying that because they are my parents. ;)

No mom wants to hear..

that tone in their husbands voice when she gets home.."Willow, tell mommy what happened"..
Even in the dark tent(they're camping out in the backyard), I could see her silhouette didn't look quite right..
"I cut my hair.", she said quietly.
I took her in the house and tried to hide my reaction when I saw how bad it was: her soft blonde hair hung normally on one side down to her shoulders, while the other side stuck out at odd angles and various lengths..or no length in several spots. My stomach felt sick as I realized there was no way to fix it. It would just have to grow out, & it will be months before it looks alright.. I watched her closely for signs that she felt shamed, realized what she had done & how it looked. I was so relieved when she said "I like it this way." Because, to me, it wasn't the cut hair that was so upsetting. It was the chance that this could be the first moment in her little-girl life that she looked in the mirror and felt ashamed of what she saw; that she's not 'good enough'. All of us women have had that wounding moment sometime, and I want my daughters to be the first women in history to go through life with their vision of how beautiful God made them intact!
I got out the scissors and tried to fix willow's hair as best as I could, and we decided it will be nice to accessorise. Bandanas, scarves, hats..
A final thought:
To those of you who will interact with Willow in person, please help us protect her precious heart and don't mention anything about her hair.. this is an age where she will develop a view of herself that she's likely to carry all her life, and we want it to be a positive one!

Tonight I'm thinking of the child who isn't home yet.

Tomorrow I have an audition for a video training series produced by an adoption agency nearby.. that, coupled with several other conversations in as many days, has my heart really tuned in to our own story..
Last year we decided to add to our family by adopting a child, and that dream has been delayed mainly because of financial issues. I know that the timing hasn't been right yet anyway, but I still have this odd feeling of unrest. When we decided to adopt, my heart grew another chamber for this child; somehow it feels as if a child has been conceived, but we have no idea how long the gestation will be or how to overcome the hurdles between us and that 'birth'. So, at night when I tuck my girls in and feel the wash of gratefulness for their safety and closeness... I'm not totally at ease. Because I have this distinct sense that one of my children is not home yet, and so many of my prayers and so much of my love is devoted to this child who has been conceived in my heart, whose name I don't know; and I ache for the first night I can tuck in my children and know that all of them are here, home, close.

So this audition means more to me than any other I've done before..because although our hope is deferred for now, I may yet have a chance to be a part of preparing other hopeful families together with their adopted children. And that would be a gift from God to this mom.

now what?

so, today Justin drove me to Chicago, where I auditioned for an agent - and got signed! I've been floating on the rush of it all day, thinking, "did that really just happen?".. who knows what will come out of it, but it is definitely a step in the right direction.
so, now what?
Hard work, saving money for professional headshots, taking classes, travelling to auditions, finishing up my theater commitments this summer then leaving the calendar more clear for jobs that may actually - joy!- pay something.
I'm scared to death and I love it.
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firsts

We have a much-loved friend who recently lost his wife to cancer, and tonight we were at his house watching fireworks. The home is totally infused, saturated, with who she was and how she lived..it's beautiful and sad. It was hard to see him there in the house they built together, surrounded by countless reminders of her.

I'm sure it was painful for him to sit on his deck with friends and watch the fireworks, for the first time without his wife.

I think it's interesting how when two people meet, fall in love, and marry -during the time when they come together, what are the sweetest moments? The 'firsts'. First conversation, first shared laugh, first date, kiss..

And when you lose someone, what are the most excruciating moments? The firsts. Every time you have realize 'this is the first time I've done this without them'.

So love is a journey of firsts. And grief is a journey of firsts.

For our friend, I wish some firsts as well:
The first time he can talk about their love without weeping
The first time he can wake up in the morning and feel right in the world she's not in anymore
The first moment of deep joy with no hint of sadness


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one more thing..

I got this quote from a blog I recently started reading:

"Thus the task is, not so much to see what no one has yet seen; but to think what nobody has thought, about that which everybody sees."
Erwin Schrodinger (1887-1961)

you can visit prismhead's blog here:
www.prismhead.blogspot.com

VanAntwerp Family Update..

It looks like our family will be shooting to move to LA by next May, if all goes well. Justin will use his time here to train our leaders to continue the ministry without him once we go, and I will be using my time as I have been for the past year; learning all I can about acting before transitioning to LA. We will be involved with Mosaic once we relocate, a community of Christ - followers that we have really connected with and stand behind. We are considering all our options and thinking creatively about saving the money we'll need to move.
We will view our time there initially as a short term thing, probably 2 years, and then possibly use the things we've learned to build a ministry back in the Midwest. Nothing's really carved in stone yet, but we believe that this will be the next step on our journey.
I auditioned today for Offshore in Detroit, which was fun and went well. I don't know if I'll get a part, but I know I improved from my last on-camera audition, and that's a step in the right direction!
In closing, here's Ginger's song of the day(clearly she shows remarkable talent):

"My name is Vegetable today,
My name is Veg - e- table today...
LALALAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Vegetable today.."
words and music by Ginger May2005
dedicated to Buscia,DjaDja, Aunt Lara, and veggie lovers everywhere..

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driving down the highway the other day....

something happened.
I was coming home from an appointment on a day so hot the air shimmered, listening to the radio and thinking about what I had to do when I got home
and my eye was caught by this plastic bag in the median ahead of me.
The kind of bag that I get at the checkout line in the grocery store, the kind we use for garbage at home instead of buying real trash liners( a habit that links me inseparably with my Aunt Pam, who does the same thing - it drives the rest of the family crazy)...
A gust of wind had caught it up into the air, like twenty feet above the highway, and it didn't come down. It just danced up there, filled with wind, twirling as if on some invisible giant's finger.
And it was beautiful.

And I watched it until I passed it by, still carving graceful arcs against the hazy blue sky.
And I thought it was fascinating that something discarded and inanimate as that bag could be made beautiful. It was the wind that did it. The wind caught it up after it had been discarded; used, thrown away. The wind gave it life, and a brief chance to be something beautiful.
And I thought, somehow, we might be a little bit like that bag. And, definitely, that the wind is alot like God.

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recently I had an epiphany, kind of. I realized that everyone in my life who I have built significant, loving relationships with, is still on this planet. I was struck with the hugeness of that gift, to have all my loved ones alive and well. And I just stayed quiet for awhile thinking about the richness of this moment in my life..grateful to have it, knowing it won't last. I thought about what a priviledged it is to draw breath, to have sight, to feel. It wasn't that I hadn't thought of this before, but it was more real to me in that time of reflection than ever.

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on a practical note, I am driving to Detroit tomorrow to audition for the film 'Offshore'. This is the biggest audition I've ever had, and although I don't really expect to get the part I'm trying for given my inexperience, I would appreciate your prayers that I will be at my absolute best and be a conduit for God's presence in that place. Same goes for the meeting I have in Chicago with a talent agent on Tuesday...I'm testing the waters in a pretty big lake, and I could use God's help! Thanks, for reading this blog and caring about me!

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I know I've said this before, but: if you're reading this, no matter how you got here, whether I know you personally or not, you belong here. Thanks for reading!

Anxiety today..

This week, I've been given two great opportunities: auditioning for a film in Detroit this weekend, and a chance to audition for an agency in Chicago. Yesterday I was bouncing off the walls with excitement after checking my voicemail. Today, as I prepared to return those phone calls and line up appointments, my anxiety level kicked into high gear, clogging my mind with a hundred questions and worries.. am I really ready to audition for film?Will I remember to ask the right questions, stay within the frame, maintain poise, be myself, take correction, bring my resume and headshots? Headshots! My amatuer photos that will surely be recognizable as such since I haven't had the money to hire a proffessional photographer...my thin resume with so little to my credit..and what will I need to prepare? Monologues? I haven't looked at that folder all summer; I'll have to memorize them all over again! One audition in Detroit, one in Chicago, gas money, getting lost, lodging, childcare, the awkward backstage guy who told me I had tired looking eyes last night (when I thought I looked fine..thanks,buddy), who am I kidding?etc,etc

You get the picture, right? It's not unique to this situation; my anxiety disorder is a part of my life, and it is still a daily struggle to replace those racing worries with calming truths. The thing that helps me get grounded again the most quickly is to remind myself that I am grateful. My life is blessed, and even though this dream of acting is scary, I've been given the chance to explore it. To do what I love and spend my life learning how to move in that space..the practical things that make it hard or a long shot are obstacles, but my most formidable obstacle is my own anxiety, because when it gets out of control it causes me to doubt my own dreams.

From sacred space yesterday, these words comfort me now:
I ask for the grace to let go of my own concerns

and be open to what God is asking of me,

to let myself be guided and formed by my loving Creator.

There are two horses in my backyard...

I have exactly six minutes to post this balmy Monday... Justin is helping with a neighborhood sports camp, teaching basketball, horsebackriding, and yes, iceclimbing. Today it is 100 degrees in Lawton, and two of our horses are patiently resting in our yard waiting for seventy kids to come watch Justin do a riding demo on Duke, our 10 yr old quarter horse. Earlier today we gave pony rides to fifty kids(very short rides)..my house is slightly air conditioned, and although I see the masses approaching through my dining room window, I don't want to walk back into that wall of oppressive heat waiting just the other side of my back door..
Oh, well. Here I go. more later! ;)
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"To love at all is vulnerable..

Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to noone, not even to an animal. Wrap it careful round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable...The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers...of love is Hell."
(C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves)
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What would you do if..

you were holding your four yr old daughter on your lap and she looked at you through tears to say, "I'm sad because I want to be so close to God but I can't see Him. I want to go live in Heaven now."
i can tell you what i did..i cried with her. and i told her that she could live in heaven someday, but Jesus had a special job for her to do here..and there was only one Willow on the entire planet and the world needed her.
"But wouldn't it be good if you & I could go to Heaven NOW?", she implored.
and in my heart i whithered up like a scorched flower at the thought of my first baby girl gone from this world. i could barely breathe in that moment and even now tears won't stop falling.
i told her that i would go there with her someday, that lots of people would be there, that it would be wonderful to see God up close and sing songs to Him together..but that it's not time yet, and that this life here is a gift full of chances to love people who need hope. i told her, like i do daily, that she is here to be God's helper, and even though she can't see Him, she'll learn to feel Him with her and hear His voice in her heart..
even though i was alarmed to hear such heavy words from Willow, i also cried because of the sweetness and beauty of the heart they came from. she knows so little about God, yet loves Him with such earnestness. she longs to see Him, touch Him, and is willing to leave all that is familiar to her for the hope of heaven. over and over again, i learn about Jesus' heart through hers.
i would fight for her. i would die protecting her. i love her more than my own life, and hope that we'll have many decades of memories and loving relationship ahead of us...but i see that she already knows at four what many of us adults have forgotten: that there's something more valuable than prolonging our lives on this earth..to know God and be close to Him, and to share His love with everyone we can while we're here..and to long for the hope that lies beyond these human bodies..
"..as someone who wrestles with worry/anxiety to a degree that's sometimes paralyzing, I am learning that being free from worry doesn't come from a mind free of the possibility of loss; but from looking directly at loss, and what it means, and what it costs, and accepting God's grace in the middle of that scary moment. We are instruments of God's grace. It will flow through us in our times of ease and in our times of loss."( - taken from my comment to Ang on her blog today)

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volunteer sleepover..

it's 9 am and I'm wondering how I'll get through the day with the energy and vigilance it takes to parent two fiesty young daughters.....
Last night six of the True Vine volunteers stayed overnight at the farm - it was out-of-control fun! We line danced to hip-hop music, learned to cha-cha(thanks, Carrie), rolled down the huge hill at breakneck speed, played ultimate frisbee in the riding arena(much to the horses' alarm), competed at jumping over barrels, construction cones, logs, and anything else we could find, and settled in to watch The Emperor's New Groove outside by the bonfire on a homemade movie screen.
We lay on our backs watching the stars in the clear black sky, and talked about our dreams and plans. Among our teen volunteers are a future veterinarian, professional horse trainer, equine therapist, a vagabond, and an astronaut..
As we huddled together for warmth in our damp sleeping bags under piles of damp blankets, I heard them drift off to sleep one by one. Gratitude to Ted, the only guy there, who made himself useful by carving a 10 foot roasting stick from a sapling so that we could make s'mores without moving from our nest!
I was almost asleep when I heard them; the coyotes who live in the woods behind the pasture began their night calls, whooping to each other in their oddly musical tones. I listened as they yipped and howled, one distinct tone layering on top of another until I was sure there were five of them moving through the pasture. They split up to avoid the fire and humans, with two passing beside us along the edge of our grape vineyards, one through the saplings near the fire but out of sight, and one with a much deeper tone than the others staying back by the den in the woods..what about the fifth, I thought? Then, above us on the road, its wail pierced the air, sending the family dog into a frenzy in the house. The cats growled, some slinking to the barn and some climbing trees. I craned my neck, hoping to see a glimpse of what I could hear so clearly, but the family of coyotes crossed the road into the sprawling vineyards and became silent.

Short post today...

last night True Vine was given a field full of hay; the only task we had was gathering it from the field, loading and unloading the bales. We gathered a last-minute group of volunteers and headed a few miles down the road to the 'mountain farm', as the locals call it.
Lawton is beautiful this time of year, and last night was no exception. The skies threatened to storm, wind whipping over the rolling vineyards. The air was cool and filled with the scent of freshly cut hay as we swarmed the field with tractors and trailers picking up the heavy bales..
I was given the job of driving the tractor, which was ....interesting. You see, I've never driven a tractor before, or even a riding lawn mower. I was given a 30 second verbal lesson and the full confidence of our friend, Farmer Bob. I did fine until we had to go down a steep hill and I forgot how to slow the machine down. A bit of screaming on my part and a quick scattering of volunteers, then another brief lesson from the very patient Farmer Bob. Everything went smoothly after that until later when Bob and I were chatting as he leaned against is parked tractor when I accidentally took my foot off the brake, nearly running him over..
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Thursday's Camper Story
Focus Achieves Purpose

The air was thick with anticipation as the jockeys waited in the starting gates, the racehorses prancing beneath their saddles, impatient to start.
In gate 5, Stargazer’s nostrils flared as she eyed the track in front of her through the bars of the gate..
In gate 3, Blazin Raizin felt his heart pounding in his ears, his fine head raised as he gathered his strength for the start...
Bang!
The horses sprang onto the track as the pistol fired, every muscle straining forward as the jockeys urged them. As they rounded the track for the first time, Blazin was three lengths ahead of the others; no surprise to the roaring crowd or media, given his recent winning streak and excellent practice times.
As Blazin tore down the track, he saw the bright silk banners hanging above the bleachers flapping in the wind, the people leaning over the fence, shaking their fists, jumping up & down..he heard the deafening roar of the crowd, the thunder of hoof beats behind him, the squeal of the loudspeaker as the announcer gave his moment-to-moment account of who was winning..
As Blazin noticed the crowd, his stride faltered. The more he looked at the blurred faces and colorful streaks, the louder the crowd’s roar became. He heard the pounding hoofbeats getting closer, and knew he was losing his lead......
Stargazer ran. She felt the track under her hooves, felt the jockey on her back urging her on, felt her own blood rushing through her veins. Her mind was blank except for one thought: Win. Ahead of her, she saw an opening, and she made her move. As she streaked through the horses the crowd leapt to their feet and let loose a deafening cheer. Stargazer heard them as if underwater, like a sound from far away, and pressed on. The other horses fought to keep their positions as she maneuvered toward the front of the pack, but their jockey’s waving arms were only a blur in the corner of her eye, and she pressed on. She caught up with Blazin as they rounded the last curve of the race, and at that moment an airplane flew overhead loudly, leaving a white path in the sky. As Blazin glanced up at the distracting noise, Stargazer rallied the last of her strength to surge past him and over the finish line!



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Wednesday's Camper Story
Patience

Jonah and his Mom stood in line with the other children waiting for their chance to ride the beautiful show horse in the big arena. Jonah hopped around trying to get a better view of the front of the line.
“Mom!”, he exclaimed, “When will it be my turn?”
Every year on the last night of the county fair, the children were invited to come for free pony rides. The eager children would line up for their chance to get close to Pal, the chestnut quarter horse who had won so many ribbons he had become somewhat of a town legend.
“Why is it taking so long?”, he whined as he munched a handful of cotton candy.
“Jonah, the other kids were here first. You‘ll get your chance; just wait quietly!”, his mother gently said in a gentle voice.
Jonah frowned and kicked his shoe into the dirt, sending a spray of gravel flying through the air several feet. In the arena, a toddler squealed with delight as her father lifted her into the saddle, blonde pigtails bobbing as she bounced , waving to the crowd.
“How come I always have to wait for cool stuff?”, he muttered. “This is stupid.......Mom! How much longer?” Jonah complained as he tugged at her jacket
“Shhh...stop, Jonah!”, his mother whispered. “ You’re being rude!”
Jonah opened his mouth to argue, then stopped as a shadow fell over the ground in front of him and two dusty boots stepped into view. His eyes traveled up past the faded jeans, fancy belt buckle, and western shirt to meet the steady gaze of a cowboy.
He felt his cheeks flush pink with shame as he realized the man had been standing nearby and had obviously overheard his behavior.
“You know, son, you could stand to learn a thing or two about patience - if it’s been hard for you to wait, think about this: for the past hour, Pal there has been putting up with being poked, prodded, bounced on, and squealed at. Look at him; he’s a champion - way above this pony ride stuff. But he has quietly stood and there for an hour and let these kids ride him. So take a good look at Pal and you’ll see what patience looks like.”, the cowboy said matter-of-factly. Then, with a wink and a nod at Jonah, he turned and walked away.

iMosaic

For the past couple of days, I've been a part of an online conversation about creating community through blogging, forums, email, chats, newsletters, etc. In the near future I will likely be moving my blog from Blogger to iMosaic, and when/if I do, I'll keep you informed of the changes that will bring..

My children are obsessed with vacuum attachments: just today they've turned them into airplanes, swords, horses, bikes, moustaches, loudspeakers, and even Jesus-on-the-cross..

My adventure of the day is set to occur this afternoon once the girls are down for their nap when I attempt to give Aslan, my 800lb. yearling colt, his first bath. What do you get when you combine the elements of : an unpredictable, agile horse..a fifty foot hose, Mane'n'Tail shampoo, potential for injury(to me, not him), lots of mud, and a mentally challenged barn cat with no sense of boundaries who will undoubtedly insert himself into the fray?
F U N.

Earlier, Willow announced " I don't like having this many toys."
I told her that she was welcome to sort through them and choose some to get rid of. She went away happy, saying she'd put them in a pile on the bedroom floor.

From where I'm sitting in my living room, I can see a pile of toys on her floor...Ginger's toys.
Hmm.

www.sytekdavies.com <---------Check out their music - they just released their new cd, From The Shadow of the Citadel !