summons.

i sit and smell the yellow
roses
blooming

i hide them in my house

behind the

window
they grow in circles all
around my
children

my children laugh and play with

yellow

roses

what will the everlasting tongue

be saying?

will you come?

will you go, now,

outside?

find the well

find the spring

and drink in life.

i hide behind the wall and
watch you
laughing
i see the air around you
swelling
telling
my brother whispers in
my ear
i'm sorry
he holds me in his arms
i'm gently
crying

what will the everlasting tongue

be saying?
who will come?
who will go, now,

outside?

find the well

find the spring

and drink in life.

look around and see what's
right before you.
turn around and see.

turn around and see what's
right behind you.

look around and see.

certain seaweeds: a glorious gift

late this afternoon i rode my bike down to an area of town that is still very destroyed from the hurricane. for some reason i like to occasionally remind myself where i've come from, at the risk of melancholia. lately i've felt tired, exhausted from life. but instead, tonight, as i stared through the empty lots and bare trees at the red horizon i realized something beautiful: the future is bright. the unknown and unforseen in my life will be wonderful. the unanticipated will be welcomed, and the seaweed will spin beautiful patterns.

bury a stone, grow a boulder

so i have this friend i met out west. she is mexican and very dignified. she was one of the only other young people who was speaking at the conference i attended. for three days i had been a loner. i had met two horses, and that's about it. she sort of befriended me about an hour before i had to lecture. i had been jittery and tense all day, and this young woman approached me for some conversation. it turns out she was speaking the same time i was. it also turns out she's a feminist sociologist. it also turns out she's brilliant. much smarter than i am, really.

anyway, after the conference had ended, she and i had agreed to keep in touch via email. eventually i asked her for her messaging name, and we started chatting online. one night we had this exhausting conversation about feminism and christianity. well, it was supposed to be just about feminism, but when i told her i couldn't completely agree with her, then it became about christianity too. my friend is not a christian. she's not an atheist either, but she pieces her worldview together as she sees fit. she was very generous, even when i was speaking christianese and talking about God and the garden and men and women being equal in the bible.
something strange happened when i was presenting my case. i felt threatened. in retrospect, my friend hadn't intimidated me or made me feel stupid because i wasn't as clever as she was. she kept saying that she wanted to hear what i thought, even that my thoughts weren't stupid, but i went on. i kept trying to prove things to her. i think i was really trying to prove it all to myself. to get it all out so that i could be cogent and intellectual and clever and still a christian. i botched it all up, it you want to know the truth. somewhere along the way i had come to this understanding that everyone who wasn't a chrsitian was out to get me, out to prove me wrong. my friend really just wanted to understand me, but i didn't get it. instead of speaking to her from my heart about how i really felt about Jesus, and about why, deep down, i believed what i did, i tried to brainwash her with my spring of knowledge.

so i was thinking about it yesterday, and i really felt as thought my friend valued my opinion when we were talking. like she valued me. this was really strange to me, because i couldn't understand that two people, from two completely different worldviews, who disagreed so thoroughly, could really value each other. sure, in my head i knew people could do this, and that i should, but outside theological arguments, i don't think i had ever really loved and respected someone who disagreed with me about something i felt was important. but my friend did. and it shocked me. i know that everyone deserves my love and acceptance, but i guess i thought there were corners of my room the sunlight didn't reach.

i know now that light reaches far. i know his light graces even the corners of our rooms. i really feel like i've had an epiphany, like i never knew there was a blue sky.

today i saw my friend online and i told her that i was sorry for being stupid, and that she had taught me an incredible lesson. she was great about it, and actually turned it around and thanked me for some other stuff i had said.

my friend's name is paulina, and she is a good woman.

the avalanche.

rejoice friends.

and much to my dismay, sufjan and rosie thomas are NOT expecting. i know, i know...

the making of the beautiful.

docks near my house, one week after hurricane ivan.

last night i moved into the once-destroyed house after a year and a half of being homeless.

i was reading in psalms this morning when i heard my dad put some music on in the next room. it was a scots woman playing a dirge on scottish flute. slowly i recalled where i was living the last time i had a stable home: i was in scotland. i also started to remember my friends, families, and daily walks i used to take. then i realized that these emotions were caught up in something bigger that was happening. as i began longing for all of this, i felt that, for me, the Lord was signaling the end of a long, hard season in my life. it hurts when you lose something. when you lose what you know as home, when you lose friends, families, and walks. i had lost all of this, moved to florida, and lost it all again.

sometimes we talk about who God is. sometimes we see Him, and sometimes we know Him. a friend once told me that what matters at any given moment is not what i think is true about the situation, but that what matters is who i know God is. God is love and truth and light, which is firm and doesn't change.

i had always talked about God as my provider, but now i know him as my provider, for i have seen his hand at work in my life. i have come through a difficult season, and looking now from the other side i can see that God has provided for me and for the needs of my family every step of the way.

i'd like to take this opportunity to thank God for his goodness.

be mindful you do the same.

life in wyoming: vol. 3 (gallup poll)

if you had spent all day with a lesbian, a bisexual woman, a transexual woman, a gay cowboy, and a mexican feminist sociologist in laramie, wyoming, and ended up in the Cowboy Bar, would you ride a mechanical bull?

life in wyoming: vol. 2

meet soren.


things i discovered today:

i discovered that there is an animal called a jackalope. it's sort of like a cross between a meerkat and an antelope. really.

i discovered that the taxi service of laramie, wyoming, consists of one aging woman and her 1981 cadillac deville.

i discovered that there are horses that have cow spots.

i re-discovered that i smoke a lot when i'm alone.

and i discovered that red shooting stars in the day aren't real. they're just jet smoke hit by the sun as it's going down.

life in wyoming, vol. 1

wyoming is a strange place. nobody reading this will have been to wyoming because nobody comes here. i am convinced that there are only 50 people who live in wyoming, and they keep changing clothes just to keep me fooled.
wyoming is a beautiful place. my hotel is in the middle of a plain with more plains and rolling hills to the east, and snow-capped rocky mountains to the west. it's breath-taking. really, it is.
wyoming is a cold place. i opened my hotel window this morning to feel how cold it was. it didn't feel too cold to me so i went outside to explore wearing only a short sleeve shirt. i nearly froze. people who are used to cold, windy, snowy, mountainy weather wear clothes that indicate they are used to it. i felt out of place because while people were wandering around with shorts and long-sleeve shirts on, i was going about bundled in shirts and more shirts and a scarf and big jacket. oh and a wooly hat. i was still cold.
wyoming is a friendly place. i have made two friends since i've been in wyoming: both are horses.