The Ten Commandments of Spring, as told by Christina and Emily at 16

My sweet BFF Claire just sent me a copy of a list Christina and I apparently drafted in 11th grade. I had totally forgotten about it but am thrilled to say that though I may be five years older, I can't say my priorities have changed that much...

"Monday, May 23, 2005:

The Many Commandments of Spring:

Thou shalt run around outside at least once a day.

Thou shalt eat 15% of thy body weight in chocolate at least once a week.

Thou shalt always be thinking of fun things to do with thy friends outside, even if thou don't have enough time to do them.

Thou shalt not work on homework for more than 23.7 consecutive hours per day.

Thou shalt move the decimal place above one space to the left and THEN follow it.

Thou shalt jump on a trampoline every hour on the hour. If no trampoline is available, pretend.

Thou shalt drive with all the windows open.

Thou shalt picnic all the time.

Thou shalt streak after ensuring that all motion sensor light switches have been firmly placed in the off position.

Thou shalt add more comm(andments + ents) [<-- distributive property of equality] to this post..."

(And so thus were added:)

"Thou shalt stuff thy face with as many popsicles as possible. popsicles as possible. popsicles as possible. hahaha." -Claire

"Thou shalt eat strawberry ice cream and do a jig in the rain." -Cait

"Thou shalt do your running around every day with no shoes on! Also the jig shalt not be with shoes! In fact, the less shoes the better, I say." -Danya

"Thou shalt make at least one batch of brownie batter and eat the whole thing raw with a group of loved ones." -Kelly

Pretty much the perfect thing to read and remember on this first REALLY Spring day here in Chicago (mid-70s!!!). I am proud to announce that even before reading this list I had completed six of the commandments today (if doing less than 27.5 hours of homework AND less than 2.75 hours of homework counts as two separate commandments :-)).

I really, really, really love my high school friends...
some of our spring fun over the years:








Now go run around outside barefoot and eat some chocolate!! Happy Spring!!

oh, sinners, let's go down, down in the river to pray...

I am, you anxious one.

Don't you sense Me, ready to break
into being at your touch?

My murmurings surround you like shadowy wings.

Can't you see Me standing before you

cloaked in stillness?
Hasn't My longing ripened in you
from the beginning
as fruit ripens on a branch?

I am the dream you are dreaming.

When you want to awaken, I am that wanting:
I grow strong in the beauty you behold.
And with the silence of stars I enfold
your cities made by time.

-More Rilke. I'm loving him.

Things which are helping me pray right now: long walks, chopping vegetables, poetry.

Why am I reaching again for the brushes?
When I paint Your portrait, God,
nothing happens.

But I can choose to feel You.

At my senses' horizon,
You appear hesitantly,
like scattered islands.

Yet standing here, peering out,
I'm all the time seen by You.

The choruses of angels use up all of heaven.
There's no more room for You
in all that glory. You're living
in Your very last house.

All creation holds its breath, listening within me,
because, to hear You, I keep silent.


-Rilke, Book of Hours I, 18

Host Sister

I wrote or at least started a couple dozen entries I never actually got around to posting when I was in Coch. Most of the time this was because I thought they were too angsty and/or were more for stream-of-consciousness processing than public viewing... But I just found this one that I wrote in October... and it's about as far as you could get from angsty. No idea why I never posted it, so, fun for now... Blast from Bolivia!

I reach to pick Nena (age 10) up. She starts to hop into my arms like normal, but instead of sitting on my hip she throws her legs over my left arm, so I'm holding her carry-over-the-threshold style.

"Soy Blanca Nieva!" (I am Snow White- which we'd watched the night before).

"Oh... entonces, soy" (Then, I'm...), I can't remember the word for prince- "El Rey?" (The King?)

"Príncipe."

"Oh, sí. Príncipe."

She dramatically faints in my arms, a lá Snow White post-apple. I plant a big "beso mágico" (magical kiss) on her cheek and her eyes flutter open as she comes back to life!!!! She gives a gleeful gasp, flings her arms around my neck in gratitude, then jumps down and we hold hands and happily skip down the stairs.

Yup... that happened.

Oh how I miss and love these faces!!!

and us close to Thee

This is taped to the wall right next to my bed:

"Come swiftly, O Lord, to the dark moments when we are lost.
Make us aware of Thy presence. Strengthen us to resist the urges and pulls to deeper darkness. Stir us to move away from the dark moments of sinfulness to the light of Your forgiveness.
Come quickly, O Lord, as we call- or forget to call- and keep Thou close to us and keep us close to Thee,
this day and night and as far as the days and nights stretch before us,
through Christ.

Amen."

Naked Vegetarians.

Last night, I accidentally left my computer in the classroom where our HNGR group had had a meeting. My friend Jason, who had brought it there for me, was in the library and so he ran over to find a public safety officer to let him in to the building to find it.

In order to appropriately do this, though, the officer had to speak with me on the phone to confirm that the computer he was finding was, in fact, mine.

"Hi Emily. This is Officer Stevens." He sounded very official and no-nonsense. "I just need you to describe your computer for me, please."

Oh, great.

"Um. Well. It's in um... a black bag..."

"Mmhmm..."

"And... it's a white MacBook..."

"Mmhmm..."

Sigh... there's really no way around this.

"And... it has a big green sticker on the front that says, 'God's original plan was to hang out in a garden with some naked vegetarians'."

Pause.

"HAHAHAHAHAA!!!!"

Yeah... don't put stickers on your computer that you're not going to mind someday verbally describing to a middle-aged male security guard.

my bosom friend is hotter than your bosom friend

The day after Christmas, 2002, I had a sleepover planned with my new friend Mary from our high school youth group's freshmen girls' Bible study.

When I got to her house, we went upstairs to put my bag in her room, sat on her bed, and talked for over two hours. Then we got hungry, so we went downstairs and sat at her kitchen table with a big tin of Christmas cookies and talked for about two more hours. Then we decided we were sleepy, so went upstairs again, brushed our teeth, got in bed and talked until we fell asleep. Then we woke up, sat up in bed, and talked until Mary's mom came in to tell me my dad was there to pick me up.

And then we were best friends (literally... like after that day) and have been ever since.

And I really still totally objectively just think she's the coolest, cutest, most admirable person I know.

Oh hey cancer!

My mother and I are sitting in a small, sterile room while a very kind and patient doctor with an Indian accent and expressive hand gestures goes over with us every chemical that is about to be running through her veins for the next 18 weeks.

This includes discussion of side effects. Tiredness, hair loss, are normal, he explains. Other common effects... blah, blah, blah...

He smiles reassuringly at us. Do you have questions? Really. ANY question at all, don't be afraid to ask. I'm here to help with WHATEVER you need-

And my mother immediately jumps in. She does have a question, and judging from the expression on her face, it's urgent. Even alarming. Some word in this litany of side effects and description of the journey ahead has caught her ear, and I worriedly wonder which one it was...

Commanding our attention, she holds up her hands, displaying perfectly rounded, shiny dark pink (dusty rose, in fact) tips.

"You said chemo can cause changes to fingernails. What about these? Can I still have them done?"

Oh, sure, he assures her. As long as you're careful about everything being sterilized, painting your nails is no problem. There are even some oncology nurses who volunteer to do manicures...

No, no, you don't understand. They're not REAL. I get acryllics. I LOVE my acryllics. This is really important. Can I still get acryllics?

My mother, who through this discussion of chemo and tumors and percentage rates has laughingly cracked jokes (good ones, too) and compassionately sympathized with the doctor over the stress of his office politics, raises an eyebrow as she waits for the answer.

I mean it's the important stuff that matters, really.

The good doctor pauses as a slightly less-than-confident expression crosses his face for the very first time in our meeting.

"Um... I think so... well... hm. You know, I'll check on that for you. I'll ask um... the nurses..."

Pause...

"You know," he says, "in my time as an oncologist, I'm not sure anyone has ever asked me that before."

Welcome to hanging out with my mother.

Y'know, I think she's gonna be okay.

Hesed.

Freshmen...



Sophomores...



Um... more sophomores...




Juniors...





We love each other...

Yay.

Rach said it better.

My great friend Rachael wrote a post a few days ago that I identified with to my bones. She said I could guest post it here so I am :-)

"...I feel like maybe these past few weeks have been a Slash Fail for me. Not in a- if you were Catholic you'd be saying Hail Mary's for a month- sort of way. Just... a slash fail. In some ways I want to take back the last few weeks, make them less messy, less spastic, less loud. I regret some things said and some things done. I regret not regretting some of it. I've been distracted and detached, more interested in finding momentary satisfaction than living the life I've been called to. I've failed to listen to the Lord well, failed to stop moving long enough to remember that the Lord offers his healing, enclosing hands. Oh he break bones and bruise hearts and-- as Sufjan says- " he takes and he takes and he takes." But those hands also and always offer purpose and direction, identity and strength for fulfilling what we are called to.

So. Slash Fail. I'm repentant and saddened yet simultaneously encouraged by the Lord's promises in the midst of my incompetence. I'm somewhat disgusted with myself but also laughing at my youth, my inexperience, my ridiculous desire for control, and the ever present grace of my Lord and Father. John Stott said he pictures God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit smothering laughter at our mishaps, giggling at our futile attempts to fix things in the same way we might laugh at the toddler who stubbornly tries to fit a square block into a round hole. But, even as He/They smile at us, strong hands are there to redirect the block and soothe our frustrated, stubborn hearts."

Amen. To all of it.

(Thanks for the words, babe.)

Thanks for the grace, Lord.

from "Morning Prayer"

Who is it that you seek?
We seek the Lord our God.
Do you seek Him with all your heart?
Amen. Lord, have mercy.
Do you seek Him with all your soul?
Amen. Lord, have mercy.
Do you seek Him with all your mind?
Amen. Lord, have mercy.
Do you seek Him with all your strength?
Amen. Christ, have mercy.