julianneelizabeth.

Moved: for the moment.

2011-09-20T10:19:00.002-05:00

For the time being [whilst in Germany], my blog has moved to: Julianne in Germany!

Enjoy!

Art! God! Germany!

2011-07-11T11:43:00.000-05:00

It is about that time; the time in which I embark on a grand adventure.

These last four years since living in China have been a whirlwind: learned how to feel the glory of nature in my bones hiking around the Arkansan hills, developed a fascination and draw towards quite a few art forms, lived in the most brilliant community of artists at Texas A&M University who taught me how to laugh heartily and accept the deep parts of myself, spent three summers working at Pine Cove Christian camps in all manner of roles, graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology, and then just in the last few months I have been gently forced by God’s hand to learn what it looks like to accept love when I am desperately in need.

This all leads up to the great crescendo.

I have been offered the opportunity of a lifetime and it appears in the culmination and ‘marriage’ of the three major passions in my life. These passions have withstood the tests of time, cynicism, and heartbreak… God, Art, & Missions. In Matthew 22, Jesus spoke, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love God, and love people—my mission.

The program I will be attending is called Discipleship Training School: Marriage of the Arts [starting in September}. I will be spending four months studying art and worship at a Youth With a Mission base in Herrnhut, Germany, and then proceeding to a third world country within the 10/40 window to do creative help for the people there with the aim of sharing the gospel. I will find out my Outreach country a few weeks into the Lecture phase in Germany. I cannot even contain the excitement I feel about this adventure and the ways I will get to see God work through my art. I read a quote by Anne Lamott recently that said, ‘In order to be great, art has to point to something.’ This rings true, and I pray that this time will allow me to focus on the redemptive message of the Gospel and how I can use my hands to capture that message visually. This experience will also provide me a solid scriptural and spiritual foundation for my impending Art Therapy Graduate program in the fall of 2012.

[A picture of the Water Castle that I will be living in with last year's MOTA students!]

I will be sending out newsletters & blogging again like I did while in China, and I hope that you will follow my trail across the ocean and be encouraged by what God does before my eyes. (The website for the DTS program is found here: MOTA Germany) Please send feedback, questions, or an email address so you can follow me to: gigem98@aol.com.

With anticipation and a skip in my step,

Julianne Eliza.

PS: Here is the link for what last year's MOTA put together using all of their art: ATOM Magazine.

PSS: If you are interested in donating financially: my needs are around $7,000 total. The checks need to be addressed as follow:

Julianne Baker
19493 Meadowood Ln
Tyler, TX 75703

Art of Marriage--Fall of man.

2011-07-08T00:23:00.000-05:00

One of the neatest renditions of the fall of man. Sit back, feel the chill-bumps, and enjoy!

Art of Marriage--Fall of man.

2011-06-30T00:31:00.000-05:00

Don't worry, all.

Quite soon, I will do a detailed update on my fast approaching move to Germany.

The winds have picked up, it is finally time for a post.

2011-06-15T23:36:00.000-05:00

Dear ones, it has been too many moons since words were last typed in here.
I aim to change that.

Only a year ago, some funky [yet inspirational] women sat me down to express the wisdom that years had given them to possess. Words only a little forgotten had been transcribed and were recently handed to me on five lined slips of paper. While some are cliche and slightly trite, the fact of the matter is that they all ring of truth. Let's see what you think...

Here we go:

-Don't sweat the small stuff.
-Stay close to your siblings and parents no matter what.
-You don't always have to be right--sometimes, just lay it down.
-When a friendship is rooted in Christ, it is precious beyond what you can perceive.
-Don't complain.
-It is okay to fail. Lack of failure is lack of living life.
-Life is simple. We make it complicated.
-Garbage in. Garbage out.
-Honor the authority in your life, whoever they may be. Seek to empower.
-Be content.
-Even with the right guy, it's hard.
-Be a giver, not a taker.
-When you have kids, focus and nurture the whole heart, not just the mind.
-Drink green drinks-- Take care of your body. Exercise. Habits become lifelong.
-Pray God's word.
-Live within your means.
-There are seasons of life. Enjoy each season fully: even the dark seasons because they don't last forever. Grow and learn from them.
-Laugh. Life can be heavy all by itself, so take joy in the journey.
-Remember, life is short or shorter.
-Make loving others your highest aim & remember that your love comes from the Author of Love.
-Relax. Don't turn into an uptight white woman.
-Our faith is as strong as our memory is long.

Enjoy some pictures of beauty from the outside.

Information relating to sauna usage.

2011-02-27T00:40:00.000-06:00

I have recently become a regular at a gym because part of my year-long goals was to create habits that were multi-purposeful. While the gym and my workouts have dimensional fortuitous benefits, it has come to my attention that the sauna time I have been participating in has such a large range of healthy benefits.

Check it:

Top Ten Sauna Benefits!

I have met many a person within the sauna... all looking to achieve a healthier lifestyle. And all quite older and wiser than me, willing to give sound advice to a kid they just met in a small, hot box. Quickly becoming my favorite part of the week.

Silk and all that remains.

2010-09-27T00:58:00.000-05:00

Sir: I don’t know what those words you keep saying mean,
and in some moments they frighten me.
Not the frighten from a horror flick or the emotional mess of a late night apparition…
No,
the scare of being out of touch with this realm of spirituality some claim hold savvy to.
A fear that a righted and spoken for can be turned out cold into a forest of lost souls.

Sir: Look around.
Aspen.
Fir.
You are just another soul lost in the crowd of the losts.
I hear… it happens to the best of us.

Sir, you know, people diagnose me everyday.
Pinching my flaws with thumb and forefinger.
Smelling, rubbing, and dropping them in chemicals.
Even if I wanted to hide them,
my hair isn’t long enough and my heart isn’t big enough
to fit this many boxes of dark.

Sir: Some of my friends say dark is half of my being,
and embracing would be enlightenment of true…
but if I can see the dark and still not love me,
then whose to say I will be loved?

Sir: You’re every kind of sunshine and he is every kind of rain.
You fit together like the yin and the yang.
But what about me?
All lost-souled in the in-between.
Somewhere between being partially alive and partially unconscious,
I sit here waiting with my pen of cynical black,
and a mind obnoxious.

So Sir: Won’t you tell me why I am here?
Why you are there…
And why nothing is clear?
It has been so long since I have seen you that I hardly believe
I could recognize the mere thought of you,
or the sound, or the touch, or those eyes.

You, Sir, are a different shade in the colorless drear.
He is haze.
Bring all your majesty and sweep me of my eyes.
My tears my fears my incorrigible sighs.
Sweep away everything you see til I hardly remain.
At the end of each long day,
I like it that way.

So Sir: Take a plane,
And come over if you can.
I have nothing to give, no,
nothing in my hands.
One of you will like it that way.

Wanna hear my anthem... Click here.

It will come in the morning. Whenever the morning'll come.

2010-09-27T00:52:00.000-05:00

Shadow War.

2010-09-27T00:48:00.000-05:00

Don’t move an inch.

You might realize a bit more.

Like tobacco chewed for its powers,

Then spit down swirling waters,

You feel you are seen.

You never see the using before it comes,

And then the swishing of the salivary glands,

Catches you with your curtains in the same moment,

You pull them down.

Vulnerabilityexposed.

You walk into that service,

They know yours,

You know their darkest,

But not a single nod of acknowledgement.

You stop walking into that service.

You draw trees all night,

In an effort to feel connected.

Like all of your relationships,

They are only perception of experience.

It is time to run.

Introduction: Samuel A.

2010-07-13T20:22:00.000-05:00

It has been weeks of simplicity.

Spending more thoughts and more moments focusing all mental capacity on 5 small, brilliant souls instead of my usual self-absorbed 1.

The remarkable little boy of the day is Samuel A.

1. Because I have never seen bigger blue eyes, nor a handsomer pacified grin.

2. Because over the few weeks, I have gotten the privilege of watching him develop personality and opinions.

3. ALSO, because I spend the most one on one time with him. Feeding food and administering breathing treatments.

Samuel: Noun. [phonetically: Sam-bo, Sam-tha-man, or as Ella A. would say: Sam-tha-ma'am.] Human child of 1 year. Darndest cutest falootinest thing. The other children argue for the opportunity to hold him. He dislikes: peas, carrots, and blended green beans. He likes: watermelon rinds, BANANAS!, and un-blended green beans.

{Before haircut.}

{After haircut.}

{And another, for I dislike even numbers.}

Introductions: Nathan A.

2010-06-09T20:19:00.000-05:00

This day has produced a new array of pictures and new levels of simplicity regarding living with children.

It is quite a bit more about instinct and a lot less about analyzing feelings and people.

I find that children could care less about what a person looks like, or how talented that person is, or how upstanding their morals are from the mundane to the vast... they tend to love the people that love them back.

The child chosen for today was Nathan A.

1. Because his laugh splits meatballs or stars. One or the other. Either way, said giggles are spectacular times a million.

2. Because he showed me his toy cars.

Nathan: Noun. [phonetically: Buh-dee, Nay-fee, Nay-Nay] Human child of 2 years. Tends to like his schedule spot on. When he is awake, he is awake. When it is time to sleep, it is time to sleep. Quite independent also, I might say.

Introductions: Ella A.

2010-06-08T21:06:00.000-05:00

In an effort to keep everyone up to speed, I am going to be posting pictures, descriptions, and daily stories as time goes on. In an effort to produce understanding and clear thought throughout my posts, I will now introduce you to the children. One by one.

The child chosen for today was Ella A.

1. Because we went on a swim date.

2. Because we had a princess dress up date [and nothing beats princess time.]

Ella: Noun. [phonetically: Ell-uh-bo-bell-uh] Human child of 4 years. The blondest of blonde hairs cover her head, and the bluest of blue eyes grace her face.

Rambunctious. Drama. Laughs heartily. Cries heartily. Favorite princess: Jasmine... because of the pet tiger and her black hair [greener on other side of the fence, much?] Favorite color: pink and purple. Favorite food: sour cream and cream cheese. Favorite animal: butterflies and rolly pollies. She likes to dress up, try on make-up, paint her nails, make jewelry, swim, dance, and play her baby violin.

Until tomorrow...

it is time for a real life update.

2010-05-30T01:31:00.000-05:00

Yackawoohow.

I live true in form, and still breathing.

Many real life things have happened. Are happening.

Check it:

!: I am moving on June 6th to Interestingville, Texas, as a live-in nanny for this family: A family. For the sake of unnecessary privacy disclosure latitudinal constructs, they shall be referred to as the "A" family, hitherto and from.

I have always wanted to nanny [it happens to be on mine infamous bucket list] and this family holds one special place in my heart [they're actually a bit blood related]. The Mr. and Mrs. have some fantastic lives that excite me to watch and glean much wisdom. Also... their kids are creative, disciplined, and cute as all buttons in the entire universe.

!: Griffin. Was found laying under a tree all wounded and what not. Baby bird, yes, quite the lil toddler. Sadly, baby birds are ugly as all get out. But I kept him with me and became lil momma birdie for one week.

the evolution of the Griffster.

perched on a bird feeder at his new home. Yippee!

In the fall, one last semester at A&M... then I will keep stepping on this path until it leads to somewhere new or old. [Current musical muses: Beirut, Band of Horses, Radiohead, Cold War Kids, and as always... Cloud Cult.]

Thas all fo now, folks. Real life update complete.

Over and out.

this is the story of your gypsy uncle.

2010-05-28T01:36:00.000-05:00

it was the sound of harmonizing to Beirut,

thinking Anne Lammott’s words in brained-circular pattern,

it was the smell of foreign languages,

the touch of soft night air on the hair wisps,

the monochromatic sight of twilight’s shadows,

it was the taste of embittered weary.

Intriguing, interesting inspirations:

Take it or leave it.

Take love and leave blessings.

spring.

2010-04-18T20:32:00.000-05:00

wee pineapple found at A&M's holistic rainforest garden.

makeshift college garden: easily transported for constantly mobile lives.

layers of pine mulch for aesthetics.

top left pot: zucchini.

top right pot: broccoli. currently quickly going out of season.

bottom left pot: cayenne peppers.

bottom right pot: curled parsley, rosemary, and oregano. [about to be transplanted.]

how creative is He?

a place.

2010-04-18T19:14:00.000-05:00

i found a place where the sheep are called humans. we speak our minds but it never hurts feelings. and at night we can watch ourselves sleeping.

i can fly but i'm not one to be showy. ok, i lied, but sometimes i feel i'm floating. do you remember when we kissed like spaceships?

we healed the devil with a couple dozen cookies. we found the answer in the last place we were looking. and in the end, all we want is the beginning.

let's be eternal for just a little longer, maybe for the moment you and i should both be infinite. everybody here hosts a ghost, let's make the most of it.

we don't have long.

fog.log.bog.snog.

2010-04-04T23:10:00.000-05:00

let's take a bus and travel these roads 'til we're full on pandora's box and can't take the change no more... or maybe we'll always love change and we'll drive until we forget this booked-up life and land ourselves at the end of rainbows that skyrocket us to the heavens. at which point, we become modern day Elijahs.

clearness of glass.

2010-03-11T18:09:00.000-06:00

drive this car like you drove that boat and set your fires of apathy underneath the tires. we are steering in between the lines and we are roading on and off these mountains. i am craving redemption with fists clenched and convulsive nerves. claiming repression of stress adverse effects.

talking to you comes hard and with much resistance. but my sighs turned light blue and the silent air turned into a ‘hi, how are you?’ you found me here.

and the bustle no longer needed the clearness of glass. but only the smudge of your finger.

prints.

some would call it marring, but clearly it be deigned countercultural. if you present your presence, i’d war for you anyday. i need only a sword and some wings and a dream, and i’ll be off on my way flying your mystery.

but oh, don’t forget one last touch will save not just me, but all. i am begging you now because sometimes flying feels like falling and falling feels like freedom and even intellectuals can tell not of the difference. but you can alter my patterns with a glance of your eye and God knows this sky isn’t glue and it holds only stars.

not free-falling humans.

exhortation.

2010-03-10T15:25:00.000-06:00

Romans 12: 8 - to come along side of someone with words of encouragement, comfort, consolation, and counsel to help them be all God wants them to be (Greek Word: paraklesis - calling to one's side)

i wish i may, i wish i might...

2010-03-02T16:50:00.000-06:00

do this... taft st. coffee/ecclesia church when i grow up.

lovely friends.

2010-02-06T00:34:00.000-06:00

a sense of life accomplishment upon finding friends that desire to spend their friday evening together watching Lord of the Rings and doing all types of art.

these are the semi-accomplishments [with wretchedly bad quality camera phone]...

fake mustache, old men walks.

2010-01-26T02:10:00.000-06:00

The rumblings and ramblings of the temporal lobe accosting the faith I hold so dear and treasure in my heart. Do I leap? Do I desist?

Question after question after question. You are my hydra of questions. Sprouting new ones by threes as I slice through the hide. Yes, I hide. My hopes and my fears. If they escaped, there would be fire on the loose. Flamed cougars of the rabid sort with burrs for ears and timetables for tails.

We all know what happens then… we awake to find that 8 months have long passed and we are curled cold in the backseat. Playing music on the strings of our ragged breathing and barely uttered phrases. Hungry and wrecked like the car we once commandeered. But no, you said. Couldn’t happen twice. But I will be dead if this unfourwheeled drived SUV didn’t flip once more. Only takes two times to persuade me. Two looks from those emeralds. Two cups of black tea. Two weeks, mind you, and I am fully persuaded that he is gone and you are mine. But I never saw those tail-lights. Not even when I crashed.

Oh, to have the spirit of an owl. With farsight and exploration. Well-loved. I would be admired. Feared.

Fear me now. I have not become anything unwanted. I am known. Things change, we change, the color of my door changes, but my future… it is set. Engraved. Past tense. For you knew these musings would appear. My name was forever caressing your thoughts. We dream of gallavanting, romping, speaking many things late into the morning and experiencing the nothings. Together. You and me, God. The one who knew me. Who knows me.

running, rising, changing, riots.

2010-01-24T10:45:00.001-06:00

New years erasing renaming old moments, old fears. Never knowing or understanding an outcome but walking on in the same side road carrying the same load, but it all keeps changing. The load seems to vary in pain, but the wait is always the same. Maybe it is mine eyes that shift, and not the scenery. Nonetheless, confusion has ensued upon this never-ending chaos of a life. But when chaos becomes comfortable, the comfortable becomes sought… and ensuing chaos means normalcy. And normalcy is something that the human being side of me craves. The doors keep moving, shadows shading, memories blurring, and mirrors covering; making it hard to decide where to walk. And so I run instead.

A rain run today. Freezing through the veins, hair arisen, but allowing it to fuel the fight. Man and beast togetherness never made much sense, never hit my core, until now. Staring out at the shore with a vast array of water ringlets affronting my vision was only bettered by the mass of white furry spirit that leaned next to my bones. She is regal and powerful. As the liquid fell, our movements fused by fluidity into unity. We were the embodiment of gracefulness and painfulness.

Mingle that purple and green in brush strokes and find the interior decorator you’ve been searching for. We are all too delicate to admit our best fears, our worst ambitions. And so I asked mine own self to tea once last week. But tea wasn’t a drink, and the setting wasn’t a shop. Instead a boulder served as my stool and a lightning split-tree as a fitting covering. The wilderness wasn’t outside, it was within. Raging with vital organs. Blood vessels. Synapses. All curtailing me. Avoiding me. But me wouldn’t take no for an answer from myself. And so I cried out to God in vicious anxiousness about the question I would receive to my answer. The words came out easily… and despite years of under rug shoving, they mellowly meandered right off my right molars. “Fear of Insanity.” Yes. My deepest darkest fear for 9 years more or less was my fear of having fallen off my very own rocker. Dipping into the pool of the cuckoos. But I am not. And I have not. And I shall not.

So I shall join the “becoming whole again project.” I am a small crumpet sized better than before. Each word spoken since has released miniscule amounts of biting blessings. Healing is interesting… because the festering occurs first. Then the reopening. Then the cleaning and purifying. Then the repairing. Then the stitching. Then the waiting. Then the more waiting. Then the tear in the stitching that causes an eruption of the past. More waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And then the opportunity to use the scar to tell a story of redemption or leave you with guilted regret.

Opportunities missed, opportunities taken, second opportunities, third opportunities, grace and mercy opportunities, successful opportunities, unsuccessful opportunities with us.

Tis odd. Tis comical. Tis quizzical.

Yes, very much so. I bet He gets a riot out of it all and cheers and sobs sometimes.

throw cares to the wind-- kerouac.

2009-12-25T10:23:00.000-06:00

a list of thirty essentials for spontaneous prose writing by Jack Kerouac:

1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2. Submissive to everything, open, listening
3. Try never get drunk outside yr own house
4. Be in love with yr life
5. Something that you feel will find its own form
6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7. Blow as deep as you want to blow
8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual
10. No time for poetry but exactly what is
11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest
12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time
15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17. Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
19. Accept loss forever
20. Believe in the holy contour of life
21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
22. Dont think of words when you stop but to see picture better
23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
29. You're a Genius all the time
30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

Thank you, Jack, for such words of creativity and oddity on this fair holiday.

Vision.

2009-12-06T16:02:00.000-06:00

"The Vision" by Pete Greig:

So this guy comes up to me and says:
“what’s the vision? What’s the big idea?”
I open my mouth and words come out like this:

The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.

They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn’t even notice.

They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations.
They need no passport.
People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.

What is the vision ?
The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes.
It makes children laugh and adults angry.
It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars.
It scorns the good and strains for the best.
It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.

This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers choose to loose,
that they might one day win
the great ‘Well done’ of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: “COME ON!”

And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground.

And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain”.

Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners. Martyrs.
Who can stop them ?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them ?

And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking,
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!

Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.

Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.

They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive
Inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.

Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)

Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.
Don’t you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdo’s! Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.

And this vision will be.
It will come to pass;
it will come easily;
it will come soon.

How do I know?
Because this is the longing of creation itself,
the groaning of the Spirit,
the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great ‘Amen!’ from countless angels, from hero’s of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.

Guaranteed.

trust? in fact, yes.

2009-11-30T01:29:00.000-06:00

[james jean.]

Mr. Rochester: "Remorse is the poison of life, Jane."
Jane Eyre: "Repentance is said to be its cure, sir."

the last month has been quite the whirlwind of adventure complete with intermittent calms in a storm of questions. through a series of events and a few talks with a dear friend, i became quite affronted at the beginning of November with my lack of trust in the Lord; so clearly, the Lord would take me on a crash course of trust; fast-paced & full of tears... but oh so restorative.

Jane Eyre: "& my past life seemed to float away to an immeasurable distance; the present was strange and vague, and of the future I could form no conjecture."

["Divided by Time"--eric fortune.]

i had gotten caught between what i used to be, what i am, and what i want to be. what i used to do, what i do now, and what i wish i was doing. where i used to be, where i am now, and where i wistfully wish to be one day...

and so armed with newfound weakness; a bottle of purple hair dye; a new painting entitled "unburdened" complete with real butterfly; a Regina Spektor concert; a menagerie of new music muses [namely: Ray LaMontagne, Blind Pilot, Avett Brothers, Beatbeat Whisper, & Clap Your Hands Say Yeah]; the Shira house's new turquoise front door; my family of four girls who set everything aside, before the coffee can yell "Brewed!", for their love for one another through their God; and my momentarily undesirable journal, i stared the devil in the face and combatted [with the compassion, passion, and creativity He tattooed all over my exterior] the need to know answers. the distrusts of my heart. my bitterness of things long past. i lived all this out by: reconnecting with a grandfather long unrespected and unreconciled, helping some persons out of a pit i had mirroredly staircased down into until the staircase fled to reveal solely abyss [and by doing so, realized so much of my own self and sin in the process// and also His ability to change my sin dramatically into something i can use to minister to others and glorify Him. i expound on His goodness, for He has been dreadfully good to me], sent an email to a person [for whom i had withheld much forgiveness] which allowed both of us to see restoration through our own repentance and prayers, handling [or not handling-- it is all about perspective] an encounter with a supposed future job that left me feeling humiliated and downright misunderstood, getting accepted to a 3 month missions program this next year to travel 5 countries and experience life with a group of 10 wayfarers and searching travelers, and finally confessing the past to my mother who didn't even blink an eye before extending grace in the exact way that i needed.

the question that rang solidly and without abating for a month:

are you afraid to go out of a different door than the one you first stepped into?

so, dear friends, are you? are you holding too tightly to what you want things to look like? what you want to become? what things could have been?

because frankly, i'd like to step swiftly [and with much trust] through whatever door the Lord Himself opens... regardless of past, present, or future notions.

pisteuo-- Greek verb: to think to be true, to be persuaded of, to place confidence in, to trust in Jesus or God as able to aid either in obtaining or in doing something, to entrust a thing to God/fidelity.

'Tis the verb used in the verse: "for in Scriptures it says: "See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen & precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in Him will never be put to shame." 1 Peter 2:6.

& i confess before you now that i do, indeed, trust Him. with all i am.

------------------------

2 things about this week that i am, ironically enough, thankful for: 1. Shira house was broken into this week; but, the person could get no further than my bathroom window due to the locks that had been put on all of the windows the day before by Betsy's papa. a cracked window, broken lock, some damaged toiletries, and a sharp inhalation of quick fear was all that the would-be catastrophe produced. 2. the house was also invaded by an unwanted visitor in the form of a squirrel. luckily, all he managed to conjure up was some squirrel poop in unlucky places, a romp in my toilet, and many necessary outbursts of laughter.

the first reverently-placed sunrise i have ever enjoyed.

trust overcomes confusion and disappointments.

adjectives with no lines on the horizon.

2009-10-20T18:30:00.000-05:00

background tunes: Jillian Edwards.

2 experiences for which I feel thankful. More or less changed.

The first involved me working a retreat at Pine Cove Bluffs family camp this weekend. Due to the copius amount of cash my bank account held last week [$0.58] ... I signed up to work despite my not knowing any people there/not ever having worked at Bluffs. I knew beforehand that the Lord would use this weekend mightily to transform my heart and show me new sides of Himself. So, I traveled my perilous way to Tyler. Undeterred by: a nail in my 4runner's tire and faulty breaks [both of which I miraculously found out after the fact when my dad helped me change my oil].

The retreat group was a Spirit-filled assortment of 100 boisterously charismatic older black women. How is that for descriptive adjectives? Honestly, there are not enough words to describe these women. They prayed furiously. They loved deeply. They laughed melodically [and rather loudly, I might add]. They danced rhythmically. They wept despondently and joyfully. The entirety of the weekend was spent in continual conversation with the Lord about the spirituality of it all. Were their customs and traditions an act? Why am I so quick to question genuinity of the worshipful act? What gives me that right to assume so presumptuously? Why am I not like that?

I came to this conclusion: I question that which I do not understand. That which I have not experienced, I assume to be wrong. But quite to the contrary; God is expanding my horizons [No Line on the Horizon- U2 - "I know a girl with a hole in her heart. She said infinity is a great place to start"]. My ideas, my thoughts, my actions involving Him are ever expanding [as they should be]. I am being transformed by Him daily [Romans 1]. My mind is being renewed daily. I should expect for my life to expand unprecedentedly. These ladies embodied Psalms 51: 12, and so often I know that I keep it in. Not quite as undignified as David [2 Samuel 6]... but I do so desire to be. Shouldn't my salvation, my freaking redemption, challenge me in every moment to rejoice with gladness?!

The second being my 20th birthday present. U2 tickets. Norman, Oklahoma. My dad and I.

The air was crisp and the wind carried my woes and wonders to the furthest wave of the seventh sea. If any concert could contain God just by population and anticipation and melody: this one did. Not only was Bono as spry as any 20 year old man, but he cracked some witty words that brought a chuckle to both mine and my dad's souls. The light show was phenomenal. The spaceship as a stage was phenomenal. The music was phenomenal. I digress to explain that I DO NOT use the word phenomenal lightly or without depth.

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

On a cold and varily unextraordinary afternoon last week, I wound my way around campus and happenstance: found myself laying in the library amongst many thousands of friends disguised as books. Papered faces and ink-blotted conversations.

It is there, that I came upon this which I will leave you with:

The first cup moistens my lips and throat. The second cup breaks my loneliness. The third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some thousand volumes of odd ideographs. The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration - all the wrongs of life pass out through my pores. At the fifth cup I am purified. The sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals. The seventh cup - ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of the cool wind that raises in my sleeves. Where is Elysium? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither. -Lu Tung.

You might ask, "What liquid is this here quote referring to?"

Tea. The answer is tea.
In fact, the answer to most things is tea.

Another quote:

"Tea solves everything. You're a bit cold? Tea. Your boyfriend has just left you? Tea. You've just been told you've got cancer? Tea. Coordinated terrorist attack on the transport network bringing the city to a grinding halt? Tea."

the gentle pierce of the eyes.

2009-10-04T01:10:00.000-05:00

oh, this evening. that is where i will begin.

Emma Harvey. 15 years old. sitting next to a fireplace in a cozy living room, intricate floral thought meets victorian age. she starts playing guitar after great persistent appeals, the melody floats through the house. what started as a intimate showcase of immense talent, transformed quickly into a group of like-minded [just having met] believers lifting their hearts and their lungs to their Lord. Emma's song brought a room full of individuals from completely different places and stations in life to the throne. a pastor, a discipler, a menagerie of Dallas Theological Seminary students, a man from Turkey, some adults, a searching college student, and two beautiful high school souls.

before the worship began, people were individually sharing where God had brought them... where they felt He was taking them. the room felt thick, full of Him. when catching eyes with another's, the iris' pierced to the very heart. it wasn't a sad, melancholy sharpness... it was depth, true understanding shared between eyes in the midst of the Spirit. i so enjoy that gentle pierce of the eyes.

"He is so good, He always shows up when we ask... unless there is ugliness and pride getting in the way. Because then we don't see where it was that He showed up."

and He did. tonight.
well, all day... which brings me to the beginning of it all.

a blissful day indeed. sometimes days are bettered with just the last few minutes of the day before it. and tradition ensues, in that... we fell asleep together laughing. what these two girls do to a soul is like an elixir for joy.

i actually woke up with a genuine smile on my face. i might have been singing. ask the girls. of course, the menu for the day included Cottonwood Art Festival. Artists from all over the world collect for two times a year in Dallas to display their craft for the laypeople. Yes, i felt thankful to be amongst such talent. such inspiration.

we saw people walking by with hand-thrown clay potteries... i wouldn't leave 'til we had accomplished said task.

despite the fact that the group was predominantly children under the age of 6... we were not deterred. i made a vase.

i am suspecting i will fall asleep tonight in the same fashion as the last. may He continue bringing unsuspected days of triumph and bliss amidst the weeping, singing, laughter, and struggles of this messy faith.

my dad.

2009-09-28T11:18:00.000-05:00

a friend posted this blog recently about my dad.

dad.

enjoy.

community.

2009-09-27T12:30:00.000-05:00

ever had an experience where it seems like you've wanted and prayed for something for your entire life in different forms, and then you get to see the culmination of those answers and blessings?

i did. this weekend.

the ARTISTS in the organization this semester... gah lee. these people are full of life. full of passion. full of richness. every single one of them exceeds the word talented, and all i want to do is be around them. all twenty of us spent the weekend together roadtripping, exploring, taking pictures, playing music [at two in the morning, three different musicians were showcasing their music at three different parts of my house: my front porch underneath the stars, upstairs on couches amongst a great audience singing along, and on the piano.], spending time in nature with our Lord, and laughing hysterically together about everything under the sun.

i have always wanted a community like this. i have.
and it was just set in my lap.
praise Him.

on another note:

Anna and i did our last sticky-note last weekend and i never posted about it.
i will add a few pictures.

we hammocked in a little bunch of trees along the shoreline of Lake Bryan. a good time.

my God-fearing mother called this afternoon. she said that she had spent time today going through a box of items i had sent home when moving into my new room of the Shira house. apparently the box contained all manner of pill boxes, containers, and cylinders. my own restoration hit her like a storm... as it does me every day.

i am renewed. changed. different.
in many more ways than one.

praise Him for restoring me to health.

being a part of something bigger.

2009-09-20T00:51:00.005-05:00

After the pangs of this last year started subsiding, I thought brilliantly that I should try to step out of this comfort box that I have created to fit nicely and snugly within. In order to do that, I knew I would have to do certain things that I've avoided like the black plague.

Things like:
-being social when it would be easier to retreat within.
-waking up early on days that i don't have class 'til two.
-saying yes, instead of my instinctive no.

but mostly like going to a Fightin' Texas Aggie football game.

Walking up the ramps into that stadium felt glorious. I became so aware of humanity's need to belong to something. In those moments, as I walked from the darkness of the yellow-lit ramp into full, bright view of an enormous crowd all cheering for one cause... inevitable shivers ran down my spine.

When the final day approaches, won't it be just like tonight? Won't I walk into the largest, most well-lit room imaginable, surrounded by millions... no billions of people. All there because we share One love. One Lord.

I can just hear our cheering now, our praises. And I thought that this football game was deafening. I can only imagine: my anticipation grows daily.

I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the LORD. They will be my people, and I will be their God, for they will return to me with all their heart. [Jeremiah 24:7]

great winds.

2009-09-16T17:21:00.000-05:00

listen to this. [needtobreathe.]

i met a girl today on the bus. i fidgeted for a gosh darn five minutes before i got up the nerves to talk to her. she was wearing brown paisley shorts. i liked them, they caught my eye.

we talked for the rest of the ride. she was going to economics class, i to anthropology of women. amidst the tense, silent bus, we chatted like old friends. about life, our classes, our day. i saw her again this afternoon. we walked eachother home from the bus while the wind howled.

it's the small things.

sticky-note of the day:

10 things i am most grateful for [in absolutely no particular order]:

1. paints.

2. journals/books that i write or draw in. [pens and sharpies are included in this category.]

3. justification.

4. family. mine loves me well. and they're quirky, the best kind.

5. kombucha tea. or any type for that matter.

6. my housemates.

7. my brain. which includes the eccentricity of my thoughts.

8. ARTISTS.

9. the beauty in everyone. honestly, this world wouldn't be worth living in save that beauty.

10. wind.

And my goal for the week is making a friend.

And i think i made one today...

2 things on a bright, rainy day.

2009-09-11T23:27:00.000-05:00

1. My housemate and dear friend, Anna, and I have decided to break out of socially acceptable behavior. We want to become uncomfortable. Recreate the boldness of our whimsical childhoods. So, in an effort to do just that, we [late a night] sneak to one another's sleeproom doors and place a sticky-note [green for Anna, pink for Julianne] onto the other's door. This sticky-note contains one or more ideas that have to be played out during the next day.

For instance:

This idea wasn't played out exactly as written, though. Today was quite an anomaly. One second, I was beebopping around down to the bus stop in the sun with my sunshiny glasses on [and might I add that putting on a classy pair of sunshades creates such an ambience of confidence. It completely changes my attitude.] But as I exited the public transportation, of course a torrential downpour HAD to begin. So, I did what any normal womanly being would do and I grabbed the nearest man with an umbrella and politely asked if I could be escorted to class. Which he did. His name is Dillon, he does not have perfect vision, is a nutrition major, religiously wears A&M t-shirts, and got the privilege of being called extraordinarily chivalrous by a dress-wearing, soaking wet beautiful being on a friday afternoon. I officially call that a sticky-note well played and conquered.

If anyone has a grand sticky-note idea, please submit in the form of a comment.

2. We used to have ugly and juvenile alphabet magnets. ~~blech~~. They made me feel like I was incapable of spelling and reading and writing every morning when I opened the fridge for my soy milk or my kombucha tea.

So I solved the problem. Nothing that a few of mom's old buttons and some magnets can't fix.

I plan on posting more crafts/ sticky-notes soon.

last weekend.

2009-09-11T01:11:00.000-05:00

Last weekend left me changed. Blurred vision clung to my atmosphere like a fog amidst the mountains.

Two of my dear, dear friends came to visit. I had forgotten what laughter was like. As a child, I laughed. I laughed until the blood poured into my head and my breath quickened. That feeling of inability to breathe and think and move due to uncontrollable fits of laughter occurred often.

And it happened again this weekend. Some nights, even, until 2 or 3 in the morning. And it was always about self. We laughed about the ironic and idiotic things we did and the unusual quirks that we saw in each other. It was beautiful.

From hammocking to cooking gluten-free fruit pizza to spray painting advertisement boards to buying out a thai restaurant to listening and singing and playing melodious guitar late into the night or in front of crowds, this weekend left me feeling a sense of God's goodness. His provision for me.

working on photography.

2009-09-02T11:49:00.001-05:00

life unprecedented.

2009-08-21T23:05:00.000-05:00

to try and describe the last few months of my life would be futile. there have been some ups and some downs, but the majority of it blew my face off. God showed up mightily in my life, an undeniable force to be reckoned with.

i thought about trying to explain it: trying to put into words my experience at Pine Cove; or my weekends of questions, doubts, questions, and no answers; or the folk that dropped into my life like a flower petal can drop into the serenity of water unbeknownst to passersby. but like i said at the beginning: the attempt at this gesture would prove futile.

so i will leave you with my word of the summer, and a quick reasoning behind it.

REDEEMED.

{

re⋅deem

[ri-deem] –verb (used with object) to buy or pay off, to buy back, to recover, to fulfill, to make up for, make amends for, to obtain the release or restoration of, as from captivity.}

i now understand the fullness of the word redemption in my life. i have now experienced the mystery of redemption and loving dependence on God. may i live past this day from here on out not just as though i am saved, but as though i am redeemed [because i am. period.]

as i have told many a person who has asked about my life as of late: i do not feel changed from this summer, i feel restored. [may it be.] love has given me a reason to live. and so i will live. As one of my favorite writers Brennan Manning puts it, "The sincere Christian opens himself to the life proposed by Jesus-- a life of constant prayer and total unselfishness, a life of buoyant, creative goodness and a purity of heart that goes beyond chastity to affect every facet of our personality... So why doesn't my contagious joy, enthusiasm, and gratitude INFECT others with a love for Christ Jesus? Why doesn't the radiant loveliness of the Lord stream from my personality?"

think on it.

Mine. My own.

2009-05-15T21:12:00.001-05:00

Another MRI today. My neck this time. They don't joke when they say it is like being underground with a jackhammer going above your head.

I am just thankful that I am alive today. Nothing special happened, no, nothing at all. However, I have started to see regeneration of all types of relationships. I guess you could say that I am gaining faith from nowhere. Or nothing.

But there is something. He is something. God has stood with me through all the heartbreak, pain, annoyance, and questioning of the last few years. In fact, He is the only one who hasn't deserted me. But hasn't been 'til now that I've seen Him actually doing something.

"One day, I will come for you.
You will be dressed in white, and ready for me too.
And we will dance to your favorite lovesong.
The only lovesong that will never end.

Alle, Alleluia, Alleluia to the Lamb who was slain." (Allison Cornell)

Slain for me. So I can breathe today. Even though it hurts.

isaiah 49.

2009-05-11T13:10:00.000-05:00

"God put me to work from the day I was born.
The moment I entered the world he named me.
He gave me speech that would cut and penetrate.
He kept his hand on me to protect me.
He made me his straight arrow
and hid me in his quiver.
He said to me, "You're my dear servant,
through whom I'll shine."

When the time's ripe, I answer you.
When victory's due, I help you.

Heavens, raise the roof! Earth, wake the dead!
Mountains, send up cheers!
God has comforted his people.
He has tenderly nursed his beaten-up, beaten-down people.

But Zion said, "I don't get it. God has left me.
My Master has forgotten I even exist."
Can a mother forget the infant at her breast,
walk away from the baby she bore?
But even if mothers forget,
I'd never forget you—never.
Look, I've written your names on the backs of my hands.
The walls you're rebuilding are never out of my sight.

You'll know then that I am God.
No one who hopes in me ever regrets it.

I'm the one who's on your side,
defending your cause, rescuing your children.
And your enemies, crazed and desperate, will turn on themselves,
killing each other in a frenzy of self-destruction.
Then everyone will know that I, God,
have saved you—I, the Mighty One of Jacob.

For in that day, my foot will stand on a Mount called Olives.
And the Mount will split in two."

2009-05-10T17:34:00.000-05:00

i once wrote a book about a kiwi.

2009-05-10T01:52:00.000-05:00

i don't rightly remember his name.
he was found in a hole down south.
and everything about him drove me insane.
because i wrote down words about him on a page.
and the words sounded like my story coming from my mouth.

not a bird's story. my story.

messiah.

2009-04-30T17:47:00.000-05:00

when you step in the room,
they won't be holding me down.
All these demons in my head,
come on, let's kill 'em with sound.

paper tongues.

Art. Worship. Life.

2009-04-18T17:17:00.001-05:00

I have been off of Cymbalta for a week now. Brain zaps or not, I feel better. Having an ounce of control over one's own being creates stability. I hasten to add that despite the constant headaches, the general fog has lifted on my life and I feel alive again.

I've painted again this week. And through this painting, I have learned a great deal. I knew before painting it that I would be donating the profits to a worship dance company at Texas A&M called Chara...[ http://chara.tamu.edu/default.html]. It took a lot to remind me that the constant theme in my life of art being worship to God, was also showered onto the art of dance. Prior to this realization, vanity and envy fled to my heart to hear of my work being given to something I did not care about... but God softens hearts, and turns His own back to Him even in the simple things.

"Though I'm Not Worthy"

This painting was based off of a project for my organization at A&M called Artists. The project entailed spending time studying Luke 17: 7-10 and discovering what it means to me.

⁷"Suppose one of you had a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Would he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, 'Come along now and sit down to eat'? ⁸Would he not rather say, 'Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink'? ⁹Would he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? ¹⁰So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.

The verse is a hard one. It isn't glamorous, and it points out our humanity and sinfulness. Even the most humble will, at times, feel deserving/worthy/entitled. So, due to the things that have happened in my life, I realized that what I learned most from this verse was that God [in his infinite mercy] pours out blessings continually over our lives even though we are not worthy. Today, whilst rain threw itself down from the heavens, I noticed the blessing that God gave us in nature. We are not entitled to see beauty every day, but He gives.

I have also been doing a great deal of jewelry making lately. In an effort to get some of it onto the internet, I will provide pictorial evidence [despite the wretched quality of phone camera].

Art is worship.
And may worshipping the Creator be my life.

entrepreneurialship.

2009-04-14T14:22:00.000-05:00

i have decided to start selling my jewelry.

profile is currently in progress.

http://www.etsy.com/profile.php?user_id=7223687

take control.

2009-04-03T11:41:00.000-05:00

and make your own day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWqTk73ab3Q

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vq6b9bMBXpg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao

and when your day is made... go enliven someone else's soul.

a leaf.

2009-03-24T17:50:00.001-05:00

good news. [not sure exactly which good news to relay in this media; but there is much news nonetheless]

i started twitter. interesting.
addicting... like all other forms of social networking/interaction through the internet.
username: crashinginrain

i've seen a new doctor. he is less conventional. less apt to throw pills my way.
i like that.
he is taking me off of all of my medications. within two weeks, this body will be med free.
i've thought quite a great deal about this, due to the fact that a tapering of my Cymbalta depression meds has left me loopy, exhausted, and emotional. i am so excited to finally be free. in this journey, i've learned so much about judgement, condemnation, and afflicting oneself. finally, i can step out of this fog and greet the sun upon the horizon.

i haven't felt joy like this in a while.
which leads me to another point.
i've been visiting a new church... powerful. small. but big in spirit.
http://www.fourwindsinternationalchurch.org/
CHECK IT OUT!

currently reading: "Growing in Prophecy"- Mike Bickle.
"Warrior"- Francine Rivers.

Also, answered prayer. I got to witness a passionate prayer of mine come to fruition last week. For months and months, my wholehearted prayer had been to see God answer a prayer. I had spiraled into Thomas-mode, which I am now learning to revoke with authority every time doubts pop up. So when I was at Ouachita, it was my fervent desire to see a prayer ministry set up that envisioned 24/7 prayer, intercession, and weekend BURNS with worship teams. I had set up meetings with faculty and administration. I had talked to everyone I could about this idea. I did ridiculous things God told me to do [that at the time seemed kooky and out of the ordinary] like setting up station for 5 hours at a time at different locations around campus and praying with people that showed up. I remember one day that I was praying in the cafeteria... God told me to pray over every table. Now, mind you, there are a whole lot of tables in a college cafeteria... but I walked to every one and prayed over it. When I left, a perfect rainbow outlined the top of the cafeteria. It was awesome. and beautiful.

But over time, these prayers and petitions for help and finances drained me and burnt me out. It wasn't His timing...

I went to Ouachita last week. And the faculty has provided money to a select group of students that God laid upon their hearts to start a prayer ministry. Ouachita gave this group a room in one of the main buildings for them to use at their discretion. It was decorated with maps, christmas lights, rugs, pillows, and beautiful art that had been done during a worship gathering.

I arrived the first day it was opened. God ordained this moment... for me to see His plan set in motion on the campus of Ouachita Baptist. I sat in awe while I saw countless people drawn to their knees in a holy room set apart. What a blessing it is to see God use events to humble us, bless us, and show Himself to us all at the same time.

presence.

2009-02-24T18:24:00.001-06:00

i am man.
i am woman.

i am a cauliflower.
i am a peanut.
i see beauty. i see disparity.
i have felt God, but i don't feel Him at all.

i am complex. i am simple.
i am ornate. i am fragile.
strength fails me. weakness fails me.

i fail to comprehend things, but in failing, i learn.
i am knowledgeable. i am amateur.
i like a darkened atmosphere. i thrive in the sunlight.
i can't control my own emotions. i have a hidden innate power.
i am humbled. i am proud.

i have yelled, but maybe my words have yet to leave my mouth.

"Anxious Synapsees."

2009-02-17T00:02:00.000-06:00

Why doth deterring pressure ail me so?
“ ‘Tis an expression of the anxious synapsees, they say.”
They act out their bigotry and biasees to my face.
What a mockery! What a plague!
The world caresses my eyes with deceitful words,
While the devil and his fire press hard upon my labor’s load.

What, ‘o what to do in such a scenario?
All logic screams ‘o the fallacies.
All history disputes theory ‘o mystery.
All psychology ‘akin true farce out ‘o me.

Laugh through the sleep-free night, ‘o followed one.
Chuckle the merciless pursuit out ‘o mind.
Guffaw heartily true ‘til the pain subsideth.
Doth matter much when heart and soul become blind?
“Alas, why think so much, ‘tis an expression of the anxious synapsees, they say.”

ridealong.

2009-01-19T16:37:00.000-06:00

I have a story to tell.

Honestly, I know not whether this is a sad story, a happy tale, or a mystery. I do, in fact, know that this is mine to tell, and that keeping it inside any longer would only benefit the demons that hone in on my weaknesses and seek to drag this tale out longer than necessary.

I don't talk to many people about what I am going through. Maybe in metaphors. Maybe by my expressions. But in honest, real words... nah. I have always thought that the true measure of strength was enduring trial with very few understanding. Screw that.

So my story begins as a naive seventeen year old with a youthful vigor, and a prideful stance on the theories of life. I moved to China to grow, to learn, to serve. I still cry in thinking about my love for that place. That city. It burns me down to the very core of my soul to be away. I thought I knew God, I thought I was good. I embraced life there. I lived amongst the people. I loved amongst the people. I gained new experiences, and lived a picture perfect vision in my world.

And then I came back. A haughty eighteen year old with a vengeance for the American church and for the hypocrites that I saw as far below me. Ironic. I made a spectacle out of myself within three months. I was a fool. I managed in one fatal swoop to silence friendships, drive a magnificent rift between me and my parents... and my family. And ultimately... I allowed the painful hole of separation and isolation to silence God in my life.

Alone, scared, and still deathly prideful... I pressed on. Anyone that saw me from October 21st to the Summer of 2008 saw the decline. My health left. The healthy eighteen year old was replaced by a decrepit and dying child. I saw every kind of doctor imaginable that year. I slept 18 hours a day. And when I was not sleeping, I was watching movies or crying.

SO now you ask... "Well what is it? Cancer, diabetes, some debilitating disease?

"Well, no. Not that they have found."

"Oh, well that isn't a big deal then..."

HAH! Not a big deal all the doctors would tell me. It isn't a big deal that it hurts you to walk. It isn't a big deal that you can't hold your pen long enough in a class to write notes. It isn't a big deal that your boyfriend has to drive you everywhere because it hurts to drive. No big deal.

So by October 2008, one year later, I had seen three general practicioners, two gastroenterologists, two psychologists, one acupuncturist, one back specialist, one chiropractor, one physical therapist, had blood taken over twenty times, had one MRI, had 4 X-rays, had one ultrasound, had four steroid shots, and taken more types of medicine than someone without a fatal disease should EVER take.

In looking into my medicine cabinet, I have 19 PRESCRIPTION CYLINDERS! At this point, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue, Anxiety, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, and too much stress. All "diseases" with no cause... that technically cannot be treated. The doctors would treat the symptoms and tell me that since I am a normal, healthy individual... these things would go away. RIGHT.

Things kept getting worse. I was fading as a person.

In December of 2008, I talked to a friend. His brother had lived in Russia over ten years ago and had suffered my same symptoms after having returned to the country and undergone a painful, stressful situation. The doctors would never believe him... and it took him two years and many painful diagnosis' to find out that he had a parasite. A freaking parasite. American doctors do not truly understand overseas parasites.

I have done research. I have every single freaking symptom of a parasite. Every one.

Now I don't know what to do. Doctors don't believe me about the parasite. And I am exhausted... I cannot keep going like this. I just can't. I start a new college tomorrow. My fifth one. I don't even have the energy to put my books together. I slept in 'til 3 today because I forgot to set my alarm. My memory is deteriorating. I locked my keys in my car three days in a row. At Starbucks. I fought with my boyfriend four times in the last two weeks... and every time, he has had to remind me a few hours later what we were fighting about after I broke down and admitted that I could not remember a word that was spoken between us. People tell me this is normal... What the hell? This isn't normal.

I keep trying to laugh it all off. Joke about it. It isn't funny anymore.

I need peace. and one freaking pain free day where I can run again. Where I can laugh without crying afterwords about my stomach pain. Where I can eat something I enjoy without regretting it. Where I can listen to a professor and gleen information.

I just want one day where I can tell someone honestly that I am good. I am good. I am good.

"Lord, let me sing to you.
It is what I am called to do.

You are my stillness through the war.

Silence me, but still let me breathe.
So I can sing for you.
Oh, can you hear me?"

alright.

2008-11-18T01:11:00.000-06:00

I do not write often.
That is alright.

I do not pray often.
That is alright.

I cry often. I think often. I feel alone quite every breath of a moment.
Still alright.
Still alive.

My faith wavers daily.
My hope fades not, it goes against the very core of my being.
Hope pulsates brilliantly out of my being, even in the darkest hour, a deep etching tattoo of hope is carved upon my wrists. Calling me into air. Calling for me to live.

You have to love me. You just have to... love me.

despite me.

2008-11-02T11:12:00.000-06:00

Onething 2008.

who is going with me?! December 28-31.

we give the devil too much credit.
"oh, i'm just being tempted by the devil. satan is hindering my efforts. i keep being torn down because i'm being attacked by the enemy."

STOP GIVING HIM SO MUCH CREDIT.
He is creation. He is under the authority of our God.
It wasn't the enemy. It was God shaking you.
He is shaking our world's so that our ashes can be turned into gold.

into glory.

without shaking and burning, our impurities remain. when shaken, when burnt, they surface... and he can scrape away the chaff. the ashes. the dross.

what remains?

gold. new creation. sanctified. holy glory.

as the potter, He remolds us into something new.
He isn't using water to remold us. through our pain in change. in transformation. He cries.

His tears provide the moisture to remold us.
His heart breaks as our mold breaks.

think about that.

breathe.

2008-10-23T18:45:00.000-05:00

'The storm is coming but I don't mind
People are dying, I close my blinds

All that I know is I'm breathing now

I want to change the world
Instead I sleep
I want to believe in more than you and me

But all that I know is I'm breathing
All I can do is keep breathing
All we can do is keep breathing now

All that I know is I'm breathing
All I can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing

All we can do is keep breathing now'

an identity intensified.

2008-10-04T23:56:00.000-05:00

in a picture perfect painting
dances a lady clothed in an identity unique.
she dances free
beneath a bountiful tree's shade
around the pebbles that lace a small stream
her hair swings victoriously
as her feet keep the beat.
she is an identity intensified.

the painting transforms.
the tree remains, but tis hidden in shadow.
the pebbles remain, but have forgotten their glisten.
the stream has long since left.
and what of the girl?
where has her identity gone?
alas, it has been lost.
wrapped amongst the pain, and blown away by the wind.

transitions.

2008-09-08T19:45:00.000-05:00

tran·si·tion- noun. [tran-zish-uhn, -sish-] - movement, passage, or change from one position, state, stage, subject, concept, etc., to another; change.

tears. excitement. nerves. sweat. decisions. newness. confusion. lost. found. unexpected joys. unexpected stabs of loss. desire. ache. cold. warm. change.

This last year has taken me through a good many transitions. Some moments more exciting than others, and yet still more moments filled with confusion. My move from China back to America wrought and provoked thoughts about the realities in America that seem utterly vain and ridiculous. I was brought into a consternation of the church, a cynicism of all things religious that evaded even my own grasp of myself. My move to Arkansas allowed me to see life with an artistic color scheme and pallett. I saw true nature, from a deeper spiritual viewpoint. He was there. He was amongst my findings, observations, and inspirations. I also found the most profound and common pain amongst mankind. A hard, harsh, immovable loneliness. Not a need for companionship from mere mortals, but a heartwrenching and blinding desire for the Living God. Many have sensed this desire, and let it pass by. These pains encompassed my life. I sought, I searched, and time and time again: I came back empty. Another major transition during this time was the transition into a real, and complete relationship with a man. Trial after bloody trial occurred. One would wonder if anything else could possibly go wrong throughout two peoples' journey towards each other. Literally and figuratively. Amazement occurs when realizing I have made it out of the battle alive.

I have begun yet another transition as of two weeks ago. Yet another move. Another town. Another house. Another 40,000 people to meet. And too many emotions to go along with it.

Oh, that I would start to perceive purpose in all this mess.
Even if it remain messy, and perplexing,
may I be given a drive.
renewed desire and passion.
and a knowledge of a different way of life.

the way of living as an ordinary radical.

"Light up, light up.
As if you have a choice.
Even if you cannot hear my voice,
I'll be right beside you, dear."

one may think we're alright, but we need pills to sleep at night.

2008-05-13T01:49:00.000-05:00

'til we meet again.

2008-05-09T00:25:00.000-05:00

i don't do well with goodbyes.

i keep my calm, smile, act playful, give a hug, and then walk out the door. emotion doesn't hit until i have walked away and realize that tears are streaming down my face.

tis ironic that i have been chosen to say goodbye to so many, so often.

so, 'til we meet again, may you see truth and understand mysteries.

tea-partying through tornadoes.

2008-04-19T20:32:00.002-05:00

sometimes blessings come. sometimes they do not appear spiritual. after all, what exactly is a spiritual blessing? does it have to be written upon the sky, or audibly heard, or even obvious?

why can it not just be a nice cup of tea with someone dear? or a laughter-filled walk to sonic? or maybe throwing paint on a shirt while using the cement for your pallet....

a blessing came to me in the form of three dear friends, and a sweet night of freeing fellowship with one another and with God. my friend [Melissa Collier] wrote this excerpt. i thought it would be enjoyable for everyone to read.

Communion with Twinkies and Cola is so Holy.

"So even though I'm not the best Christian right now, I still like to have Bible study on Tuesdays with the three most amazing girls in the world.

Last Tuesday, Allison, Julianne, Sara, and I decided to partake in Communion. With Twinkies and Coke. Sound blasphemous? :) Not so much.

Tuesday was the holiest moment of this semester.

It was storming outside as we entered 3rd floor east's lounge. Julianne had set up some incense, Allison had her guitar out and the Body and Blood, Sara brought one huge canvas, and I brought a suitcase of paints and glitter.

We had a really hard time opening the old fashioned bottles of Coke, but I think Sara discovered one of her spiritual gifts that night: bottle opening. After struggling a bit to find the verse, I read the Last Supper, and we opened our Twinkies and made a toast to Jesus. We burped a lot.

After a little prayer, Allison started playing guitar. We sat in reverence for awhile, then Julianne began to write while Sara continued in silent prayer. I got up and spray painted that canvas blue, then Sara joined me on the floor for finger painting while Allison strummed and sang praise songs.

At a peak in the worship, the electricity went out. Allison kept playing, and Julianne dared us to continue painting. She joined in.

With no idea how the canvas would turn out, we reached for paint and went crazy.

We began beating on the canvas for percussion, and the thunder grew louder as our voices lifted beyond the storm clouds. I'm pretty sure the mixture of the incense and our worship was a sweet aroma to the Lord.

Tears were in my eyes, a smile was on my face, and the hair on my arms stood up like reeds.

We finished with "Falling Slowly" from the movie Once.

I shone my phone light on the canvas, and it was a mixture of purples, blues, pinks, reds, and gold glitter. It's the most beautiful canvas I've ever seen.

Then Sara, Julianne, and I went streaking through the halls in the dark.

Good times."

Faith is messy. Spirituality is unusual, and not how it appears. If you are going to stress, stress loving. Out of all the crimes in the world, the one thing that is tied to most is love.

So love. love love love. and keep loving.

one of those days.

2008-04-01T19:09:00.000-05:00

"If"

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son...

-Rudyard Kipling

a good week, the real kind of food, and a few ramblings.

2008-03-26T17:21:00.000-05:00

"what I wouldn't give to be completely naked with nature. To have the ground as my bed, and the sky as my cloak. I admire those men who run across football fields with no clothes. Sometimes I get jealous. They're like martyrs. I bet that is why they get arrested... because the policemen are jealous of them."

-Hans Jinpeng

These last ten days have been noteworthy. Almost as though I was a shell, and life was restored unto me. Color has come into my face, vigor to my bones, and a shimmer in my eyes. Is it possible for mountains to restore health to one's body? No mind to the true answer, because the Ozarks have done what pills could not. Or maybe it was the renewal of familial friendships. I could even go so far as to say that it was the beginning of many intense beautiful friendships within the souls of older family members.

I am going to start yet another blog. This blog will contain my nutritional findings. I spend a lengthy amount of time online and speaking with others regarding nutrition and health facts. I desire to get down to the bottom of health, so I pour many hours into that goal. Hopefully these thoughts will surprise people as they have me, and push more individuals into a clearer view of wellness. This wellness blog will be listed on my profile alongside the "julianneelizabeth" website.

I have so many thoughts for this blog. So many people I wish I could speak with. So many faces to love. Maybe I will add more later when I learn how to transform typed words from conscious thought.

joy, oh joy.

2008-03-14T14:55:00.000-05:00

i whilst be traveling for the next few days. joy upon joy.

to hike, to create, to explore, to traverse, to jump, to dance, to sing, to laugh, to drink tea, to love, and to play.

what a gift this week will be and already has been.

grass fights and the desire of ordinary radicalness

2008-03-11T16:37:00.000-05:00

radical: [rad-i-cal] adj. -of or going to the root or origin, forming a basis and foundation, thoroughgoing or extreme, especially as regards change from accepted or traditional forms
Chinese (Simplified): 根本的

being radical seems to indicate getting to the bottom of what drives people. to somehow get to those starting places and turn them around. to become different, but not just different on the outside. we are being driven by mind and heart. those places need transformation for true radicalness to take place.

i have gotten quite overwrought by the amount of people around me [including myself] that are constantly seeking to be radical. i just started reading a new book [fancy that.] called Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. His point on the art of radicalness has to do with the fact that the true radicals are those who are ordinary. An ordinary radical is a regular person. A normal person who does radical things. These people need not look a certain way, dress a certain way, eat food out of trashcans, minister from tree limbs, or travel to every distant land with a box of girl scout cookies. These ordinary radicals need to be sinful, but redeemed replicas of Jesus.

What a beautiful day it has been laying on the grass in the smack dab middle of campus amidst bustling students, large oak trees, and bees humming through tiny white and pink flowers. To sit there and read. To meet new people through laughter, and discuss real issues with old friends. To watch awkwardness amongst friends, and throw tufts of dead grass into another's hair. To pretend for an afternoon that life wasn't to pass by tomorrow, but that this afternoon was my last... all these were experiences of a simple; yet complex beauty.

There are those of us who, rather than simply reject pop evangelicalism, want to spread another kind of Christianity, a faith that has as much to say about this world as it does about the next. New prophets are rising up who try to change the future, not just predict it. There is a movement bubbling up that goes beyond cynicism and celebrates a new way of living, a generation that stops complaining about the church it sees and becomes the church it dreams of.

And this little revolution is irresistible.
It is a contagious revolution that dances, laughs, and loves.

and many scoffers will say, "it's never rained before"

2008-03-03T00:16:00.000-06:00

I have had so many ideas for the words to compose within the bounds of this post. Some ideas forgotten, I will proceed and hope that my words flow through my hands.

"what a fool", they say, "to build a boat on sand."

I was thinking today about infirmities within a Christian's body. Are they not all an attack from the devil? As with Job, God may allow some infirmities for a time to test us and strengthen us, but they are all an attack from the devil. My current thorn in my side is my back. It would be easy for me to go to the doctor and get a few pain pills to ease the aching that is constantly reminding me that I carry the world, my own problems, and everyone else's pains upon my shoulders. The one thing holding me back from that escape is the fact that everytime the pain flares, anger and a fiercesome attitude ignite at the same time. Over time and speculation, I have come to the assumption that there is more than just a twisted nerve causing this pain. I will continue this pursuit for deliverance and question the mysteries of an unknown realm beyond it all.

"and what a fool", they say, "to fast and pray, and what a fool", they say, "c’mon it’s been two thousand years. do you really think He’s coming?"

Another thing I came to the realization of today was the main thing that many people put before God. It is so common to hear people say, "oh, she puts her boyfriend before God", "that man puts his money and his job before God", but have you ever thought about the fact that so many people in the world [me included] tend to put culture before God. We drag God within the boundaries of our culture. This not only limits our view of Him, but it limits the ways that He can use us. In America, there is a "Christian culture" that, in many unscribed ways, gives a list of the "do's and don'ts" of Christian living. We limit ourselves. I will continue praying and seeking the ways that I am conforming to this world without even realizing it.

May He continue to refine us and make us alien beings.
Aliens to this world. In and not of.
United as a body. Living sacrifices.
A completely abstract concept to the world.

People get ready. Jesus is coming.
“And many, many scoffers will rise in that day”

And when the rain starts falling
It’s too late.

It's too late.

i am a being of feeling alone.

2008-02-25T00:13:00.000-06:00

ever gone through a period where, try as you may, you are just not yourself?

or a period where people systematically, as though lined up, leave your life?

ever wanted to sell everything, buy a backpack with a few items of thrift store attire, slide silently and unnoticed onto a train, and ride until life turns back around?

ever felt like you stepped backwards in this painful, tearful struggle that is called faith?

ever not been able to hear from God after a time of hearing His voice daily guiding you?

ever desire God, but find that none of the "right answers" supply the answer to your question?

well,

i am.
i am.
i do.
i have.
now.
yes. right now.

unknowing knowledge and a shivering reminder.

2008-02-21T11:37:00.000-06:00

Han, my skinny, constantly overwhelmingly excited Chinese teacher will randomly say things that help life slow down. In this double-bubble-ized Christian Bible belt school that I attend in the middle of small-town Arkansas, it is enlightening to catch glimpses of the outside world. The Bible may teach "to be in and not of", but the "being in" part is crucial to loving those who are "of the world". Well, the other day, I showed my Chinese class this bluff area at the top of hill near my school. The area overlooks a river and is cluttered with leaves and trees. Beauty reigns atop that small ripple in the landscape. Time stands still there, and thoughts become unclouded despite the array of colored brushstrokes against the sky. He spoke my thoughts outloud as though he was reading my mind.

"This view makes me want to believe there is something more than just life. That there is a big god somewhere out there."

and although Han knows not the truth,

there is a God.
there is.

an old beginning.

2008-02-18T22:19:00.000-06:00

i have gone through all of this before.
i have, in the past, created sites containing my words. words showcasing hurt. happiness. inspiration.
words that were my own unique form of art.

so, i am trying once again to create a site solely for this purpose.

my hope is that these words may inspire others.