No, I'm not talking about the classic Disney channel original movie with Andy Lawrence! (ha)
But I am talking about the other blog that I have created...(apparently due to my inability to commit to any one thing for an extended amount of time.)
http://vmchavez.wordpress.com
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
looking for stars
I'm embracing brokenness.
After a recent conversation with a dear friend, I've come to realize that there are times in our lives when we must embrace the fact that certain situations are shitty.
So often I gloss over something that happens in my life by looking for the positive. Right away. I look for that silver lining (at least on the outside), while inwardly sulking and mourning in my disappointment, all the while feeling guilty and feeling the need to repent for my "bad attitude."
However, with some things, and in some times, it's ok to weep and to mourn, and we don't immediately need to wipe away the tears and paste on a smile for everyone. Ecclesiastes 3 tells us that. A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance.
There's a time to look on the bright side of things and search for what we can learn from a certain situation. But first, we must allow God to be God.
God finds us in our brokenness. But we must first allow ourselves to be broken.
Right now, I've decided that in this situation, in which I currently find myself, I will sit at the bottom. Just chill out in the shit, so to speak. I am acknowledging the following statements:
-I am disappointed.
-This sucks.
-I am hurt.
-I am scared.
Those statements are freeing. They are the first step in my healing process. They are absolutely necessary.
A Persian proverb says, "When it's dark enough, you can see the stars."
It's really dark right now. I'm waiting (patiently) for the stars to show up.
After a recent conversation with a dear friend, I've come to realize that there are times in our lives when we must embrace the fact that certain situations are shitty.
So often I gloss over something that happens in my life by looking for the positive. Right away. I look for that silver lining (at least on the outside), while inwardly sulking and mourning in my disappointment, all the while feeling guilty and feeling the need to repent for my "bad attitude."
However, with some things, and in some times, it's ok to weep and to mourn, and we don't immediately need to wipe away the tears and paste on a smile for everyone. Ecclesiastes 3 tells us that. A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance.
There's a time to look on the bright side of things and search for what we can learn from a certain situation. But first, we must allow God to be God.
God finds us in our brokenness. But we must first allow ourselves to be broken.
Right now, I've decided that in this situation, in which I currently find myself, I will sit at the bottom. Just chill out in the shit, so to speak. I am acknowledging the following statements:
-I am disappointed.
-This sucks.
-I am hurt.
-I am scared.
Those statements are freeing. They are the first step in my healing process. They are absolutely necessary.
A Persian proverb says, "When it's dark enough, you can see the stars."
It's really dark right now. I'm waiting (patiently) for the stars to show up.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
...and it was good
Bueno, how do I describe my stay in Mexico thus far and do it justice? I think it might be impossible. You can look at my pictures on facebook and read my enthusiastic wall posts about what I´m learning and seeing and doing, but you will not be able to hear what I hear. You will not be able to smell the tamales that are being sold on the street corner. You won´t be able to hear the birds that sing all day, nor the rooster that wakes me up every morning at 4 am. You will not have the opportunity to try authentic Mexican tacos...which I assure you, are nothing like those of Taco Bell.
You won´t be able to look in the eyes of the people and see them sparkle.
You won´t be able to sit in a cathedral and look past the cracked image of the crucifix to see the faith that was buried under sincretism and myth. But you also won´t be able to feel the presence of God there that surely does still remain.
You won´t be able to walk down these calles empedradas and know that this is where you should belong.
[I don´t belong yet, mind you. My halted accent and inability to think of words quickly can attest to that fact. My pale skin and light hair betray me and make it more difficult, because I will be known as a guera for quite some time, I imagine. But someday...someday when my Spanish doesn´t carry a trace of this accent, and when my skin no longer burns every time it sees the sun, then I might be able to say that I am Mexican. Not by birth...but by destiny?]
Maybe someday I will be able to write well enough...in Spanish...to be able to describe how I feel. Until then, you must be content with my concise description void of details.
It is good.
In every sense of the word "good." In the original sense of the word "good." Forget that "good" has become overused and cliche. Remember what it used to be. Fill it with your own significados, your own connotations, assumptions, presuppositions, and maybe you will know what I mean. Or maybe you won´t. Either way, I stand by my report.
Mexico is good.
You won´t be able to look in the eyes of the people and see them sparkle.
You won´t be able to sit in a cathedral and look past the cracked image of the crucifix to see the faith that was buried under sincretism and myth. But you also won´t be able to feel the presence of God there that surely does still remain.
You won´t be able to walk down these calles empedradas and know that this is where you should belong.
[I don´t belong yet, mind you. My halted accent and inability to think of words quickly can attest to that fact. My pale skin and light hair betray me and make it more difficult, because I will be known as a guera for quite some time, I imagine. But someday...someday when my Spanish doesn´t carry a trace of this accent, and when my skin no longer burns every time it sees the sun, then I might be able to say that I am Mexican. Not by birth...but by destiny?]
Maybe someday I will be able to write well enough...in Spanish...to be able to describe how I feel. Until then, you must be content with my concise description void of details.
It is good.
In every sense of the word "good." In the original sense of the word "good." Forget that "good" has become overused and cliche. Remember what it used to be. Fill it with your own significados, your own connotations, assumptions, presuppositions, and maybe you will know what I mean. Or maybe you won´t. Either way, I stand by my report.
Mexico is good.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
the voice of reason
I am a hypocrite.
I have opinions about the environment, capitalism, evil corporations, etc, etc, yet...
...I went to Wal-mart yesterday,
threw away something cardboard,
drank Coca-Cola last week,
and I work in a restaurant chain and serve "Wisconsin Buttery Burgers" to gluttonous clientele.
I'm all talk. This needs to change. Pronto.
I have opinions about the environment, capitalism, evil corporations, etc, etc, yet...
...I went to Wal-mart yesterday,
threw away something cardboard,
drank Coca-Cola last week,
and I work in a restaurant chain and serve "Wisconsin Buttery Burgers" to gluttonous clientele.
I'm all talk. This needs to change. Pronto.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
screaming silence
Now that school is out and I'm finished with papers, projects, and homework, there's nothing else to take their place in my head.
And now I'm forced to think about things that I wanted to forget.
Confront things that I would rather ignore.
Now I remember why I keep so busy during school. Now I remember why I wanted to be scheduled more hours at work.
And now I'm forced to think about things that I wanted to forget.
Confront things that I would rather ignore.
Now I remember why I keep so busy during school. Now I remember why I wanted to be scheduled more hours at work.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
People-watching
Watching people take the first sip of coffee is fascinating.
They tip the travel mug or to-go cup slowly, slowly, waiting for the scalding liquid to ease into their waiting mouth.
It appears the cup was not as full as they originally thought. Tip more. Faces scrunched in almost fearful anticipation.
They've all experienced this before. That one time when they misjudged the distance from the rim of the mug to the surface of the coffee, and they couldn't taste their lunch, nor their dinner because of swollen, burnt taste buds.
You need to go slow. Because if you tip the mug slowly, you can feel the heat before it actually hits your tongue, and you can stop it. You can set the mug upright and wait 3 minutes. Or add an ice cube.
Sometimes it's a twitch, barely noticeably with the coffee has reached its destination. For others, it's a full-blown facial convulsion. My reaction tends to lean towards the latter.
There is still steam coming from my cup of tea. With only a small opening on the top of the to-go cup to allow for the release of heat, I know that it would be quite dangerous to attempt to drink it now.
Perhaps I'll wait 3 minutes. Or add an ice cube.
You never know who might be watching me.
They tip the travel mug or to-go cup slowly, slowly, waiting for the scalding liquid to ease into their waiting mouth.
It appears the cup was not as full as they originally thought. Tip more. Faces scrunched in almost fearful anticipation.
They've all experienced this before. That one time when they misjudged the distance from the rim of the mug to the surface of the coffee, and they couldn't taste their lunch, nor their dinner because of swollen, burnt taste buds.
You need to go slow. Because if you tip the mug slowly, you can feel the heat before it actually hits your tongue, and you can stop it. You can set the mug upright and wait 3 minutes. Or add an ice cube.
Sometimes it's a twitch, barely noticeably with the coffee has reached its destination. For others, it's a full-blown facial convulsion. My reaction tends to lean towards the latter.
There is still steam coming from my cup of tea. With only a small opening on the top of the to-go cup to allow for the release of heat, I know that it would be quite dangerous to attempt to drink it now.
Perhaps I'll wait 3 minutes. Or add an ice cube.
You never know who might be watching me.
Monday, April 20, 2009
write a post. check.
I like lists.
I make lists every day. Several times a day.
I like crossing things off lists. I love the look of a neatly written list with perfectly straight lines through each item. It makes me feel happy.
I usually only write lists with my colored pens. It looks prettier. It makes the list look much less daunting when it is fresh, and a lot more satisfying when it is completed. Today I wrote a list in a green pen. I will cross things off with orange. I never use black. It's so dreadfully mundane.
I make lists about making lists. I need to make a list of books to read for the summer. I need to make a list about things to pack for Mexico. I need to make a list of people and addresses for the summer.
When I have a particularly frightening-looking list, I add small, trivial tasks to the list, just so that I can immediately cross them off. Just so I have some sense of progress.
Wake up. Check.
Brush teeth. Done.
Check email. Yes.
However, sometimes when I am finished with a list, no task left undone, I am still hesitant to throw it away. A perfect example of my excellent organization and precision in the trash can? Right next to the banana peel from yesterday's breakfast?? A waste. Eventually I do let go (I do not have a folder containing nothing but finished lists), but not without a cumbersome internal struggle.
I like being in control. This much should be obvious by my great affinity for lists. And the more that occurs in my life that is so obviously outside my control, the stronger I grip the inconsequential details of my life. White knuckles clutching at some semblance of stability. Order. Dependability. Sanity.
Yet, the more I see these uncontrollable situations, the more I grasp at thin air. The more I fail.
I can add to my list:
-Mend my family
-Restore my relationship with God
-Love people
But I have no hope of being able to neatly draw a line through the items by myself. The things in my life over which I do not have complete control.
I think I need to stop pretending I have everything under control and start trusting....
Trusting that when I fall, He will still be standing. That when I fall, He is actually holding on to all the pieces of my life that I was trying so desperately hard to fit together.
I make lists every day. Several times a day.
I like crossing things off lists. I love the look of a neatly written list with perfectly straight lines through each item. It makes me feel happy.
I usually only write lists with my colored pens. It looks prettier. It makes the list look much less daunting when it is fresh, and a lot more satisfying when it is completed. Today I wrote a list in a green pen. I will cross things off with orange. I never use black. It's so dreadfully mundane.
I make lists about making lists. I need to make a list of books to read for the summer. I need to make a list about things to pack for Mexico. I need to make a list of people and addresses for the summer.
When I have a particularly frightening-looking list, I add small, trivial tasks to the list, just so that I can immediately cross them off. Just so I have some sense of progress.
Wake up. Check.
Brush teeth. Done.
Check email. Yes.
However, sometimes when I am finished with a list, no task left undone, I am still hesitant to throw it away. A perfect example of my excellent organization and precision in the trash can? Right next to the banana peel from yesterday's breakfast?? A waste. Eventually I do let go (I do not have a folder containing nothing but finished lists), but not without a cumbersome internal struggle.
I like being in control. This much should be obvious by my great affinity for lists. And the more that occurs in my life that is so obviously outside my control, the stronger I grip the inconsequential details of my life. White knuckles clutching at some semblance of stability. Order. Dependability. Sanity.
Yet, the more I see these uncontrollable situations, the more I grasp at thin air. The more I fail.
I can add to my list:
-Mend my family
-Restore my relationship with God
-Love people
But I have no hope of being able to neatly draw a line through the items by myself. The things in my life over which I do not have complete control.
I think I need to stop pretending I have everything under control and start trusting....
Trusting that when I fall, He will still be standing. That when I fall, He is actually holding on to all the pieces of my life that I was trying so desperately hard to fit together.
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