I was going to post about the reception...the memory
of it though keeps
retreating into the distance. So basically what I'm
saying is that I
don't feel like it. I should've brought my hand
held journal on the
trip, I'm really terrible at writing things down as
they occur to
me...usually it's just a think and hold it until I
have time to write it
down. This causes a lot of mental congestion. I
did steal a piece of
paper from Isaiah's activity box, and scribble a few
sketches in red
crayon. Saying this does remind me of a delightful
memory on the
trip...Isaiah was huge into drawing pictures,
folding the piece of
paper, he'd hand it to the person he felt would
appreciate it most. The
drawing usually consisted of happy faces and random
letters of the
alphabet. He always explained the picture to us
(fearing we would
misinterpret, no doubt) and "read" the note he left
for us. I must
proudly say that I received the best of his
work...it depicted a
cactus-like creature with a beaming smile...under
the pokey friend he
wrote the letters:

A-S-S

We kind of tried to choke the laughter down while
praising Isaiah's
artistic endeavor. He would not have liked it if we
had laughed too
much, he would've deemed it inappropriate.

With that written...I'll give you the bulleted
highlights at the
reception.

*(asteriks will have to suffice)It was held in a
coffee house filled
with character.

* Open coffee bar

*Amazing gourmet catering (all food prepared by the
proprieter)

*I caught the bouquet (to my dismay and embarassment
it came right to
me...I had to keep reminding myself that they were
just a very beautiful
bunch of flowers and to appreciate them as just
that, as countless
family members asked me who the lucky fellow was. I
just screamed at
them that there was no one, would never be and that
boys were stupid.
That's all...)

*We threw coffee beans instead of traditional rice.
Way fun, and
smelled good.

Okay off to work. The smell of chlorine beckons.

We woke from our ancient iron framed beds at 6am
Sunday morning...the
old lodge creaked and moaned with activity and
spraying showers.
Primping and straightening ties...all the wedding
guests had to leave at
7am to drive up to the blue mountain ridge by 8 o'
clock. The trek up
the mountain was killing my nerves and fear mulled
rapidly in my
stomach. It wasn't so much the curves and dramatic
drop offs on the side
of me that were doing it...it was the circling fog
that covered the road
before us. Aunt Lily tried to help by singing a song
about "holding your
head high so no one will know your fear". She held
my hand, but both
gestures irritated me, which also made me feel
rather guilty; she was
just trying to provide comfort...like I said though,
my nerves were
being strangled with every roll of the car's tires.
The further we drove
into the blinding mist, the more I felt excluded
from the world as I
know it, and was beckoned deeper into a land of
mystery and dramatic
intrigue. Yes we reached the ridge colored blue...on
a grassy clearing
an arch covered with garland the color of fall
leaves, sat in a fogless
patch. Relief burned in my heart like the sun I'd
been wishing would
shine, turning the fog to clear air. We got out of
the car and began
layering bulky coats, and umbrellas over sleek
dresses...high heels sunk
into tender ground. The fog still whirled thickly
over and around us.
When music came from car speakers, and a man sang
live above recorded
notes...all fifty of the guests created a semi
circle around the autumn
colored arch way. We looked into distant mist
waiting for the bride and
her father...a sweet love song being sung behind us.
The dark
silhouettes conquered through, and my breath was
stolen by the fantastic
sight...my cousin was beautiful. Her velvet gown
just brushed the tops
of her shoes, it's burgundy color blending
spectacularly with a black
hooded cloak. A classic medieval head dress, jewels
the shade of her
dress woven into silver links, came to a triangular
point just above her
brow. Hair accented in braids. Gorgeous...what made
it so lovely is that
it suited her, and perfectly. The groom waited in
black suit, and
burgundy shirt, his long locks tied back half way
with two braids. All
the while the man kept singing in wonderful tone
their love for each
other. The fog only added to the mystical beauty of
it all. Fear was
lifted from my heart, I knew that the wedding would
not have been the
same without the chilly covering. They looked at
each other with such
ardent intent...Jessica smiled radiantly throughout
the entire ceremony,
and Garrett cried as he read the vows he'd written
with deep admiration
and insight on his love for her. The rings were
exchanged...and I won't
get to descriptive with the kiss, don't want to send
you all too far off
the edge of romanticism. I will say this..it was
more of a conversation
than a kiss...it spoke of things like purity and
whispered sweet sighs
of accomplishment...even mentioned the beginning
steps of maturity in a
real relationship.



Everyone sigh with me. The reception is another post
:)

Mmm...quiet. Well except for Niah and his guitar.
It's been a long
time since he's picked up and played just for the
heck of it. He used
to do it more often is what I mean...it's a good
sound. I don't think
the fact that my parents named him Kenaniah after
the skilled song
leader in 1 Chronicles is a fluke. He keeps
improving everytime I hear
him too. He has stopped playing now though...now I
only hear the fish
tank bubbling, and the slightly frozen rain hitting
the kitchen window.
I like being home on days like these...I feel like
I've been just
existing in busy-ness. It's all good and fun stuff,
but there are a lot
of times that I find myself wondering if there's use
in any of it. Mary
Jo and I talked about that quite a bit on Tuesday
night...I think I've
come to the conclusion that all my childhood dreams
are coming to a
head. Some of the are flakey, and easily chased
away...others are there
still and rather impetuosly so, yet I'm unsure after
watching the other
ones "turn yella" and run...the more I think and
mull things over, the
more I doubt. I feel myself retreating into vague
answers and
superficial busy-ness. Just because I can't handle
wondering...my mind
tells me all the facts on how it's bad to worry.
That it'll all be okay
in the end...the vision of my heart only sees this.
A river, one that
I've been preparing to cross...been gathering
equipment and such. Now
standing on it's bank, the loud monsterous noise of
moving water fills
my ears with deafening force. I watch as the water
smashes over
boulders, moving faster after each blow. I see this
and only this, my
memory slips...mist covers the river bank across
from me.

The whole experience could be fun and hopefilled,
but the looming
thought making a mistake that would flip the raft is
a little
threatening. Dang, haven't I been here before?
Maybe this time when I
hear the truth, and feel it's touch...I'll remember
it when next doubt
entices me.

But now, this is what the LORD says-
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
-Isaiah 43:1&2

My tea is done...and so am I :) Maybe I'll actually
get some stuff done
at home today...I am excited and happy for this
evening!

Meg and I hung out tonight...she took me out to eat
at this place called
Pho 16. They had a HUGE menu...just filled with
chinese and vietnamese
(sp?) dishes. I was really hungry and the options
were just to numerous
for me to decide quickly. Meg suggested the Pho Ga
(chicken and noodle
soup), sounds boring, but it was fantastic! They
brought us a pot of
hot tea, and then a plate piled with bean sprouts,
lime and fresh mint
leaves. Oh heaven...just what I needed on a rainy
night. The Asian
women (I think she was the cook, waitress, and
hostess all in one...I
did not see anyone else) brought out these two
enormous bowls of soup. I
do not over embellish (i'm bombing out on the
spelling quiz tonight)
this description when I say they were each about six
heaping cups in
volume. Crazy amount of soup-age going on there.
We talked about good
things as we tore up mint leaves over the steaming
soup, but then we
watched a ridiculous movie. Back to the Pho...I
think the entire meal
was $12.50 we got a couple of eggrolls too...yum.
Anyone want to join
me another time? I will go again.

It's a grey morning...which gives it an incredibly
early feel. I have
to do something about my sleeping habits...I had a
coffee after six 'o
clock p.m. last night, therefore causing my night to
melt rapidly into
morning with me only catching three hours of shut
eye. Darn it...I
guess I had to try drinking coffee late in the
evening one more time
before I realized that this girl won't sleep when
caffienated. 'Twas a
good night though, once I got away from feeling
insane, because I got
the itch to sew at four in the morning, I actually
learned to enjoy the
quiet...I guess I've been running around so much
with work and the like
that I don't have much processing time to myself.
Got to talk with
Jesus, that's been a struggle lately...I know it's
an anytime anywhere
kind of deal (prayer), but lately I haven't been
very faithful in giving
Him my attention entirely. There's always something
in my subconcious
running a little faster than my focus on conversing
with my Lord. It's
kind of like going to a coffee house to catch up
with a friend, asking
them a question on a real deep area in thier life,
then letting yourself
get distracted by people and the conversations
around you, rather than
devoting your listening attentions to your friend.
That's what I've
been doing...people watching isn't bad but there is
a time and a place.
My friend Elise and I used to go out to a coffee
house just to do that,
there was no pressure to converse - just being
together was enough...we
could let ourselves drift into a complete stranger's
world and know that
it was okay with the other person across the table.
I miss her so
much...I've got to get my butt over to Chicago to
see her and her
wonderful little family...they've been back in the
states since early
September, and I've only talked to her on the
phone...last night I
wished for once that she was still in Vancouver
three hours behind me,
so I could call without waking her. Anyway...this
is just spouting
forth from me with no real direction. So I guess
now's as good as time
as any to end :) Remember..."Don't smoke, drink or
chew...Nor run with
boys (or girls) that do." If you live by this moral
you'll never have
any problems with life. Okay? okay.

I'm really supposed to be cleaning my room...by my
own initiative I'll
have you know. Between sewing materials and the
clean laundry I have
yet to fold from early this week, it's pretty sad.
And that my friends
makes me sad. I have to write though...I never
write when I am
full...just when the ideas are stale within me. So
here it goes...

I took Isaiah to the park last night, I was really
run down because I
haven't been sleeping well these days...and I knew
even if I wasn't
running around with him trying to keep up with his
five year old bundle
of energy, he'd be happy that I was taking him to do
something he likes
to do. I feel so bad for him sometimes...having
siblings that are so
much older than him, who are quite caught up in
their busy lives. When
we got to the park I pushed him on the tire swing
then he took off to
romp on all the play equipment. I perched myself on
cement ledge that
surrounds the sand box and watched. There were
these two hispanic boys
who's sister sat watching them play as well. One of
the little boys was
at the top of the curvy slide sending two matchbox
racers down the slide
which were caught before crashing into the mulch by
his younger
brother...it was a pretty clever game. I watched as
Isaiah slowly and
shyly made his way to their side of the
playground...it's so funny how
he crept up, because once he got there he totally
abandonded all
inhibition and did all he could to let them know he
existed, except body
slam them. I smiled until the little boys moved to
another slide,
Isaiah was kind of serving as a road block on their
makeshift highway.
I started calling out to Isaiah to come play in the
sand with me, I felt
bad for both sides...they were having a good time
until my brother tried
to join in...and I knew Isaiah was just trying to
play, so I wanted to
distract him...anyway, the other boys' sister said
something in spanish,
which I am not at all fluent in, but I did hear
"nino"(pretend the right
punctuation is there)...which means "boy"...I think.
Then the older kid
of the two asked Isaiah in english if he wanted to
play...he was of
course all about it, he and the younger boy squeezed
together at the
bottom of the slide and waited...the cars came
zooming down the curves
of the big red slide, colliding with two giggling
boys. The little boy
shouted something in Spanish and Isaiah tried to
imitate with some
gibberish that he thought sounded the same. I
couldn't help but
laugh...and hard at that. They were so darn cute :)
It was cool for me
to see how awkward the whole situation was at first
with Isaiah trying
to play but really just being an interference...all
it took was a simple
invitation to clear it up. It was pure harmony
after that...so next
time I feel awkward around someone I'll just ask
them if they want to
play. That's all there is to it.

I just needed to unload. I've had that moving in my
head like a t.v.
show re-run all day. Thanks for reading anyway:)