a good day

I'm in one of those moods where ever fiber of my being is wanting me to create, or experience, or just let/make things happen. It's been a good day.

I applied for jobs; some which I think I'd really enjoy.

I stole flowers from a friend's house.

Baked three dozen cookies, some of which are going to work with Caleb.

Tonight I'm making stuffed poblano peppers and sweet potato fries.

And at some point I hope to start a new painting.

More from Donald

"Everyone's acting like angels in the day. But they're really all red." - Donald, the bum.

Sometimes words of wisdom come from the strangest places.

Rambling....with a purpose?

I haven't updated largely because I feel very little inspiration. I have the week off of work so there is nothing that is coming in from that arena... I haven't spent a great deal of time with anyone lately (other than Caleb, of course), or at least not in any spectacular or thought provoking way. But maybe that in and of itself is enough. I am typing, aren't I? My thoughts are tangled up inside my head. Thoughts of friends and future and family. So basically just life.

I applied at the junior college for the position of Grill Cook in their Cafeteria. I'm not really sure what it is, but something inside of me is oddly excited by food. I love cooking, love creating with food and love sharing it with others. I suppose a job, even in its smallest resemblance to that, would suit me rather well. [pause]

Keep typing, Kelly. I remember when I was in high school, my creative writing teacher said that if we found ourselves in a rut, to just write or type constantly. Don't stop the words from coming out, even if all you can think to say is, uhhh, ummm, I don't know...cheese. It has helped in the past. I seem to get writer's block more often than I care to admit. It seems so easy to write at times and other times, it's the hardest thing in the world. Maybe I make it bigger than it really is. Along with food, I have a passion for writing. I always have since first grade when I wrote my first story about a lion, tiger and lamb that were friends. I know in fifth grade I wrote a 65 page story for a vocab assignment (we were supposed to make a story using the words, and most of the other students wrote a 1/2 page as was expected of them). It just kept going from there. I had my darker periods in middle school and early high school. I was a teenager that was angry...big surprise. I don't think I really found my "voice" until after I graduated. And now it seems I've been finding it again... I don't want to write anything that doesn't in some fashion serve God. There was a time in which I was primarily writing for myself. Reading those things that I wrote now, I can say quite frankly that they were selfish and arrogant. Arrogant because I prided myself on my self reflective abilities with the written word. But it was all so pointless. I would write about feelings or myself, but it would all be so cyclical and rarely pointed to anything greater than my own good. As I've grown in my relationship with God I've realized that my own good is dirt. How can anyone be good, right? Since realizing the fullness of the gospel and where I fit in it, I've had a frequent, paralyzing writer's block that I am okay with for the most part. It keeps me grounded. I've realized that I could spend so much time writing for myself or writing to impress, writing to be remembered, or writing to invoke thought, but it would all be in vain if my time and energy and thought invoking wasn't in some way pointing to God, praising Him. It's easy to forget God's righteousness when you can't look past your own. When all you can see is yourself, your desires, your ambitions, you become blinded to the bigger things God has in store for you. You could exhaust yourself trying to be talented, or unique, or interesting, but in the end you'll just find you've been walking in circles, patting yourself on the back, going nowhere and proud of nothing. I want to be moving forward, focusing on Christ and what his life meant, God and His greater purpose, forgetting myself because I am his servant, forgetting the futile, pointless, pretentious desires that lie within my human nature, because God has given me a greater task, a lasting purpose, and a gift I'd be foolish to forget. That is the only reason I have to write.

well...those are my thoughts. That's what comes from a bit of rambling. My head is still a bit tangled but I'll save those thoughts for another day.

Sufferagettes and Thoughts

Today, Karl handed me a folder and said, "Read this. You'll either laugh or get angry." The folder was full of articles from a certain journalist known for his feisty and often argumentative nature, and all were regarding the women's rights movements. It was interesting, if not slightly amusing to read his early statements of, "if women want to vote, then they should vote. But as it stands, they don't want to vote." As the movement strengthened, he seemed to no longer think they should vote if they wanted to, but rather trust in the gallantry of men to lead and be good and sensible staying indoors away from the poll booths. I found all of what I read interesting and some of it humorous ("I'm sure our enemies will tremble with fear when they hear the name of President Gertie and Governor Lulie..."), but as I was reading I thought of how the argument must have been in those days. There was mention of Susan B. Anthony speaking in one of the opera houses, crowds of people in attendance, with sound arguments for why women should vote (mostly that if a woman does not have a husband, if she is to earn her own bread, she should be able to vote). There were still threads of people trying to hold on to the idea of a Christian nation and the idea of woman picking the leaders was a warning flag for women leadership. Unfortunately, the gallantry of men, so far fallen, could only carry us so far. This thought is striking to me because we do not live in a Christian nation. We live in a land full of faulty humans (just like everywhere else), and in a nation that is not focused on Christ, really anything goes. This is not to say that women voting is wrong, not by any means (though feminism is ridiculous), but it makes me wonder what it would be like if everyone made decisions based on Christ, if women followed their husband's lead, and men loved their wives like Christ loved the church and took action out of their best interest. And really this is idealism talking...we live in a very broken world, so much so that even our churches don't resemble this sort of basic principle and it seems that for every step we take we take two steps back. This issue was intense in its day and it makes sense why... we are all in incredible darkness, bumping into things and trying to do the best we can without turning on the lights. It goes back to selfishness. It goes back to pride. It goes back to acting on one's own self-interest and thinking we can do anything without having to yield to God's will. We really like to run our own show...so it's no wonder why this country is where it is...this world.

Well, after I read the articles and was getting things in order to leave for the day, Donald came in. He said 'hi' to Karl and said, "Everyone's dying out there. Lots of people are dying. We gotta go back to the good ol' ways, like the Seventh Day Adventists and get everyone saved." Then he walked out the door.

Perspectives

The day has been that of, oh, I don't know...too many emotions. They seem to overwhelm and take presidence in my observation of things. I'm good at going off of gut instinct, feeling out situations, and knowing what seems right at the time. But maybe this isn't always right. These feelings can be deceiving. Sometimes they take over and blind me to the point where I can't see what is truth. Just because I feel it...doesn't mean it's right. I put logic on a back burner and forget about it, only seeing two inches in front of my face. Well maybe just because I feel sad about a situation, the truth of the matter is there's no reason to feel sad. Or just because I feel frustrated about something, I'm really only hurting myself. I'm chosing to surround myself in that cloud... Emotions can be so masochistic, don't you think? I do, anyway. Hopefully I remember this before I let my feelings run away with me again.

Scrumptious muffins and a new favorite ingredient

I don't usually follow recipes. I know flavors enough to know what goes well with certain things, and I know what tastes I prefer. Today I divulged in my culinary craftiness and made my favorite salsa concoction and banana muffins with chocolate chips AND a new favorite ingredient: cinnamon chips. They are divine. If you can find them in your local grocery store, I strongly recommend using them. Hershey makes them so there's a good chance you can find them.
Well, I am a strong advocate for sharing good things with others. So, on to the recipe:

Banana Chocolate/Cinnamon Chip Muffins
3 very ripe bananas
1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar (the more ripe the banana, the less sugar you'll need. Also, I used Splenda)
1 large egg
1/2 cup applesauce
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup dark chocolate chips
1/2 cup cinnamon chips
(or more chips if you fancy!)

Preheat oven to 350.
In a good-sized mixing bowl, mix and mash bananas, applesauce, sugar, and vanilla until well blended. Beat in egg to mixture. Gradually mix in dry ingredients and chips until well mixed. Place in a greased muffin pan (any muffin pan will do, I used a jumbo one). I sprinkled some quick oats on top. Bake for 30-45 min (if using a mini muffin pan, check earlier; they may be quicker). Check with a toothpick to see if they are done (although you may get chip residue on it). Enjoy!

Heaven's in the Sun

For some time now I have been curious as to the lives lived by the aged. This comes from working at the local historical society, a place occupied with more old people than my fingers. Not to mention the tasks I'm presented with are that of recording the headlines of the local news as far back as the Civil War. As I'm shuffling through the articles and reading the names and places of a time passed, I am struck by the simple realization that this is not fiction. Marriages, deaths, local crime, politics, slavery, buildings being build, roads being paved, the coming of the automobile (refered to as the "devil wagon")--these are all topics that surround me as I type from 9 til noon. This all happened. So, when I come across a headline such as "Slave woman kills two children, commits suicide", I can't help but wonder what sort of hell her life must have been.

It's easy when I'm in this train of thought, to apply it to the people that I see around me. Today a man came into the Society that I had seen a few times before. I previously had assumed he was a bum, a title I'm still not sure should be dismissed. But, today I learned his name is Donald. Before, he would come into the Society, say 'hello' to my boss, Karl, and then be on his way. I'd also occasionally see him strolling the downtown streets, surveying the gutters for long cigarette butts that were still slightly smokable or darting into Funny Pages Cafe to use their restrooms. Today, however, it seemed he wanted a little conversation. Instead of a greeting and a goodbye, he decided to divulge in a spiritual rambling that left all but Karl confused.

"King of Lord of Lords! Right?! And don't you forget it. I know it...I know it." Karl would reply with a "Yep."

Donald continued, "Heaven's in the sun.... I've been there. I can take you up there and bring you back right quick if you want!"

Karl laughed kindly, "No, that's alright."

Donald turned and left, saying, "I've been there...in the sun...", as he walked out the door. I must have been making my crinkled-brow, deep-thought, utterly-confused face, because Karl strolled over and explained to me that Donald used to be a smart man. Really smart. Some years back he was in a horrible car accident that left him with brain damage. He claims now that he went to heaven in the sun and came back and he spends his days looking at books about stars at the library and walks around downtown.

I would have discounted his ramblings for a life of drugs, which, when you live in a city known as 'the meth capitol of Missouri,' you can't really blame me. But coming across this picture of Donald's life I wonder....what about Karl's life? What about Ralph's life? or Doris'? or Cecy's? I wonder what the headlines of their experiences would read and I know there are more than what meets the eye. Did Donald have aspirations of running a business? Did he have a serious romance? A person is more than that surface and few words they present to the world. Sometimes that thought amazes me, and when you get to the heart of a person, you see where their heart resides. Hmm. That's even more powerful that the headlines that make their story...

flushed with thoughts. now to get them out.