So Much for My Sabbatical....

I like to buoy up things like compassion, and dunh dunh duuuh, grace.
My favorite bible verses growing up, held the common theme of considering others better than myself, turning my other cheek, God's sufficiency for me and acceptance of me. The last two serving most importantly as stepping stones, in figuring out how to extend the rest. Instead of acting upon the natural niceness I had in my heart toward my fellows...I started to freak, desiring a deeper understanding, so that I'd have a rebuttal for all those doubts in my head regarding rejection and being misunderstood. Not to mention parents and friends who just wanted anyone who hurt my feelings to feel the chill of my disdain as the responsive gift. I wasn't very good at the cold shoulder, even just pretending...I was more good at crying and walking around the issue timidly, hoping that if I held my eyes level, they'd be met by the inflicting opponent's, and resolve would step in to smooth things over.
The only thing I learned from this was to walk around timidly, all the while thinking abusively about the mistakes I had made, and the people I had surely offended. A wallowing, emoting, eery wailer, whose best friend was a cat that got hit by a car when she moved to the country.
Since then I've learned to get angry for my parents when someone (or a church) does something stupid and hurts them I've also developed a gift at telling my friends how their ex-boyfriend really is a jerk, and they never should have settled for him in the first place, because they are much much better than he will ever hope to be. I've also learned to be defensive in the face of blows that are being directed at me, and over some issues that are not even advancing toward my general direction.

So far, the only honest display of grace in my life is what I've received from God and some people I like to call my friends and family. I might have hit the mark in a moment or two before, but I'm afraid I've either been too yellow bellied or arrogant, on other occasions. I heard a guy who couldn't have been more 17, give his testimony this weekend...through tears and a rattling voice, he said ," I really just wanted to tell you all that I'm so glad there's still grace in the battle.".
My mind and heart clicked in agreement over this issue of love and forgiveness right then. I understood that grace is not flimsy, nor a cheesy emotion lacking in sense. I saw it's strength, heard it's cry over the shouting of regressive culture, and knew it's practicality.

I hope the views and perception I have received on this topic are not simply there by my own efforts to justify a liberal world view. It would be accidental if it is so. Mostly I just want to share a few things, to get them outside of myself, exposing them to air, so that if any wound be found, naught will fester. Whatever...obviously we live on earth, with people, bad and good choices, and soliciting judgment...but, but, there's a lot more to see beyond, and around that, through softer eyes. Frankly, I'm tired of being indignant over issues that are not new disputes. I don't really care for the new ones either I suppose, at least I don't care about them enough to get all riled up...I want to care the most about Jesus and about people and fuzzy things. In that order precisely, and if you take me for a simpleton, I will be highly delighted.

Gah! The English

What do you do
When you want to take a poo
In an english country garden

Why you pull down your pants and you suffocate the ants
In an english country garden

--------

Isaiah came home singing this last summer, after his first camp experience. He learned it from a little boy whose english father taught it to him. Though it's a catchy little ditty, I think it inappropriate for my almost 20 year old mind. I always thought big sisters were meant to influence the baby brothers. Apparently, in my effort to learn from all the peoples, I've picked up a few things from him.

The tree with the lights in it.

I was thinking yesterday about how often I pray, "Dear Lord, please help me to be thankful.", I was thinking about it, because I was on the verge of praying it again. I stopped before I started, because I was singing my favorite worship song, singing this line..."a thankful heart prepares the way for you my God", I had the thought that maybe God doesn't give us thankfulness, that's our gift to Him. So when it comes to prayer, I can ask for a new scooter, and makeup, but don't expect Him to wrap thankfulness in the gift box...I'll choose to be thankful upon realizing He's good to me, upon seeing He's faithful when I'm not, and upon Him reminding me that it's my choice to be thankful.

Annie Dillard wrote this amazing chapter in her wonderful book called Pilgrim At Tinker Creek, the chapter is called Seeing. In it she speaks of literal blindness, and the heightened senses that come along with it...she speaks of metaphorical blindness too, how of course the seeing take for granted their ability to sense a lot of things, for their dependence on their eyes. Really you should read the book, if not the book, just this chapter...because she'll make the point much better then I'm making an attempt at here...she shares this story about a young girl who was blind for her whole life, this girl had an operation that resulted in her regaining vision, before removing her bandages they took her out into a garden. Upon her first expereinces seeing, she spoke with excitement about "the tree with the lights in it".

I think my thankfulness is not only about seeing what God has done, but seeing it with excitement, and realizing the complete splendor even if that means saying things that proove my naiveness. I would think the Creator finds refreshment even in a simple minded exlaimation over the complex beauty His labor has produced.

My Mind is a Wonderland.

I've been learning the importance of diplomatic advances in conversation. I should not always be so hasty as I am, in exposing the realness of my personality, and laid back nature. Nor should I shrink into some sort of withering wall flower, in effort to protect myself. So here are some decisions I've made to help avoid the self-rising of my insecurities.

I here by vow never to greet a guy this way: "Hey, how's it hanging."
If I avoid this, I also will be able to escape thoughts surrounding the one very important misinterpretation of this friendly hello. Even in my desire to become the worlds hippest in the know lingo matron, I should remember the importance of unoriginal english, and simple salutations, upon being introduced to strangers.

I've also decided never again to involve myself in the flinging of peanuts at any roadhouse type restaurant. Even if my face and legs are being mercilessly pelted...I will remain strong in this conviction. For the protection of all those innocent bystanders. Boys really will get bored of teasing you when you don't fight back...and guess who will be embarrassed then. It won't be me.

There must be a healthy medium, and I think my mom found it at the ripe age of 15 when she plastered these Simon and Garfunkel lyrics above her bedroom door.

"I am a rock, I am an Island. And a rock can feel no pain, and an Island never cries."

Somebody induced the labor of the world, and Jesus ain't back yet.

Bad experiences make me think sometimes. I usually talk myself out of the angry thoughts, and those that are judging, to a complete halt. I try to become still, and remember the time my heart stirred while the man on stage told everyone, with their heads bowed, eyes closed, to come to Jesus, by boldly raising their hands in church, and repeating after him the sinner's prayer.

I try to remind myself of the tree's roots...I tell myself that so long as the kingdom of heaven is being glorified and an the faithful are showing themselves, opinions, doctrine, and tactics are the frills I have to get past to love my faith. It's all a test, if I can get by with my love for God and all mankind, I'll have been one of those good servants. What more could I aspire to be?
It's all becoming mush in my mind. I'm afraid of forming an opinion, beyond the basic truths...afraid that will lead to judgment, sometimes allowing it to lead to arrogance, and living under the constant pressure of never becoming what I hate to see. Opting for false humility is the safe route...and easier for all to love, for the most part. Sometimes I think that if I were just to say what I feel, or think...God would have room to speak, because I'd be longing for answers after becoming vunerable and releasing what I hold in uncertainty.

I was talking to my mom the other day about how I think pursuing Progressive Culture, is a good way of telling the world as a Christian that you plan to flop. More and more (not that I'm a bible scholar), I've seen it pointed out in scripture that things around us fade...pass, wilt, and burn up in fireballs sent from Heaven. I think we are all on one world and that we should act like it. I believe Christians are supposed to be the smart ones, without basis on rules commonly understood. We're supposed to look simple, plain, even foolish next to what's popular. Subjecting ourselves to misunderstanding...it's all there in red, and large print. So those are the differences, but what we get to see, because of these things, is this...everyone, all the people, are of this world.

Secular, Christian...it's all moot and we have to keep moving on. We need to step up, with this little tiny simple understanding in hand, and do what our creator taught us to do. Love, seek out friendship, give with tenderness, and accept with humility...whatever, I don't know, we're meant to be the trend setters. That's what I think...based on what I hope I've been taught in truth. Obviously, we don't need to be afraid of Big Mother Culture, she's a scarecrow in the melon patch (ripped that off from Jeremiah 10)...and we're going to carry pieces of her, because we have hearts, dreams, thoughts and interests.

I don't know...I'm hungering for discussion here, and fully aware that I'm ranting. Wish I were a bit more smooth in segue, but it's late. I miss sleeping at night, miss sleeping in on Saturday mornings...miss my family, and a lot of other things too. So there I'm excused.

Pictures of a Feel Good Night on the Streets of Hollalala

Homeschool pays off when it comes to simple amusements.

Johanna Liquid Bystrom

So in case I didn't mention it...we spent (onetimeblind and i) this past weekend on the Island of Jekyll in Georgia. Participating in a Salvation Army youth event (just for the record I love those Salvationists). Many exciting events took place. Kathlene and I jumped into the ocean at 7:30 am last saturday morning, along with 200 other students and officers. Saw Dolphins swimming, and were witnesses to a lovely sunrise. I experienced God in a humbling way later that evening, and was a contestant in the evening's dance off. One of the leaders caught a glimpse of me doing the robot during sound check, and asked if I'd be willing to do it again in front of a lot of people. I said I would, but a little nervous worm started squirming in my tummy. What you need to understand is, that we were near Atlanta and most of the kids at this event were way into hip hop culture, a good portion of them were awesome dancers. I knew my skills were no where near theirs, but I said yes, because God has been telling me not to hold back. Here's the evidence, thanks to Kathlene. I kinda chickened out on the robot, because I noticed upon trying it out, that I was shaking...on the verge of violently shaking. So I switched it up. The other kids still kicked my butt, and I wish I had footage to show you how good they were...but in the end it was super fun. And that's the end there isn't any more.




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The Pilot Truck Stop.

I approached the counter with three items. The cashier was a magnificent, tall, dark haired, dark skinned lady.

"Hey there." I said with a meek smile.

I was intimidated by her aloof hello.
But as she scanned barcodes, I heard her chuckle.

" mmm.mmm.m. pepto bismol 'n ginger ale. someone 's not feeling so good. pepto bismol 'n ginger ale. you must be feeling real bad. mmm.m. ginger ale 'n pepto bismol,mmm, someone's gramma musta told them it would help. makes me throw up, and then i feel better after that. yep, sounds like gramma's looking out for you."

Her chuckle trailed off. I offered a hearty laugh.

" You've got me figured out. I'm not feeling the greatest. I suppose that's pretty obvious. Well at least you feel better after throwing up."

"yah." She said with a small smile, but returning to her aloof tone.

"receipt or a bag?"

"No thanks."

I took my pepto bismol, ginger ale, and bubblemint gum off the counter- walked my 5'4" white girl, skinny body and bland english thoughts out the door with me too. Wishing I were magnificent and dark all the way back to our big white rig.

"I want to be where the sun shines in affirmation."

I said that, then it came true last weekend in the Grand Canyon State. Booyah. We had some fun...just a wee little bit at least. I took pictures of everything I saw. I think Ryan and Drew are cute in their matching plaids.

I took these while lying on my back. We were sunbathing between morning services, and I fell asleep for a wee bit. Definitely a highlight, and a sweet moment of spiritual reflection that has escaped me for the moment.


P.F. Changs for dinner, after a looooooong day (two hour long sets in a row, and two services earlier in the day), compliments of a most gracious host. Tweak made numchucks out of chopsticks and straw:)

Do you know what this is? That there honey, is a real live bon-ee-fide cacti. I learned that in Chandler, AZ they have issues with cactus poachers. Also I didn't like the cacti that had arms; the arms were short and stubby....knobby even. I know it's awful to say, but they reminded me more of fleshy tumors.


Oh, and this last one is for Robin....my curly headed amiga.

Practice.

Loneliness sometimes fills my eyes with water. Then my pride is filled with logical excuses on how I’m not alone...but the feeling, which is a good proportion of me, stays to beat me up with sorry for myself thoughts.The worst is when it comes while I’m sitting with a group of people. They’re talking, maybe about things I’m not quite interested in, or maybe I am, but any effort I make to include my words into the conversation, ends up being steam rolled...whisked away, without a response, just taken someplace unknown, where I can’t visit it. It’s not mine anymore to mull over, to wonder if I should bring it up and out...all I can do is mourn the loss, and lack of replies from my peers. It’s pretty selfish, and pretty emotionally unstable of me.

I recently got to see a friend of mine, who I had not seen since the previous summer...he’s a performing artist, and while I got to be amongst the crowds that came to see him, flaunt their latest creative endeavors to him, and talk about his. We greeted warmly, then I felt myself recede emotionally as the hub-bub began. Then upon saying goodbye, after three days of hanging around and listening, even after a workshop that he taught; we hugged and I said I was sorry that I didn’t get to talk to him very much. He replied like this:

“Oh, well...maybe you should practice talking until the next time I see you, and we’ll try again then.”

My mouth popped open (making a slight suction noise) he laughed slyly, and my smile grew into a laugh that bounced off the walls and hit my head with vibrating realization.

Sometimes I think I’m more comfortable being isolated...so much so that I cause the infliction. I mean sometimes. I build these superficial defenses...I manipulate known information about myself, and play it out, big and all dramatic like. It works for this introvert, because if you are dramatically reversing your emotions, no one notices, and you’re safe. So my very large ideas of loneliness, in room full of friends, when my heart knows all I have to do is ask Jesus to hold me, I avoid eye contact and bite my lip a little...hoping for some pursuit as I wait safely, stubbornly, in my self contained environment. Sometimes I know, that if I just said something about being lonely, confided in someone else...confessing my emotional imbalance, humility would arrive, making all the noise she could upon entering celebratory turf. Those feelings could quite possibly vanish all together, usually the darkness disappears with the rising sun.

A couple of weeks ago, my brother Drew was living in some shitty thoughts...and while I could tell his heart wasn’t quite sailing smooth waters one morning, I didn’t know how to get past asking him if he was okay, and him sighing and saying he that he had a rough night before, not sleeping very good...I didn’t know what to do for him but say “Oh, I’m sorry.”, peering at him a little deeper, and then looking away when the silence expanded. I heard his sighs, as the rest of One Time Blind entered the room and we were beginning our practice time with a bit of prayer. We were about to start praying, and as I closed my eyes I heard Drew sigh one more time, twisting in his seat, before he spoke. “Wait...”, then he proceeded to tell us what had been weighing on him, and how he thought he should be past all that...but he couldn't shake the doubt. He asked for help, and I sighed with thankfulness. Mostly I think just bringing such junk up, gives your heart and mind perspective...bringing it out, exposing it to air and wide open spaces, makes the issue shrink just a little in comparison. I always want my friends healthily unload themselves when they’re feeling pent up pressure...and I see evidence of it helping them. I however, still feel responsible to fix my problems alone, even before Jesus can lay his warm hands on me. Mostly though, I notice that this behaviour makes has me thinking more selfishly then ever, and...my issues at heart are growing fuzz and stinking of must.

So here, since I still need to practice talking...I’ll write some things down.

I’ve been feeling lonely, and empty. Mostly I know I need to work this out with Jesus, because I think I’m holding bits of me back, typical.

I’m unmotivated toward doing anything creative, pursuing, being honest about what it is that I love to do. I myself am afraid to acknowledge such longings.

And...I want someone to teach me how to study the bible, I’m sick of just being responsible to teach me things. I mean I’m constantly learning from God and his life lessons, but I suppose I miss that sort of structured teaching that I used to get out of Church...if that makes sense.

Who knows? I might be babbling, blind to anything but emotion for now...but if I’m being a dork, I wanted to at least say something so one of you lovely people could tell me to shut up. So there you go...perhaps now I'll be able to write something about beautiful Arizona. It was quite a good time.

Beginnings of bad credit history.

I'm leaving for Arizona in just a few short hours. Never been there, just a teensy bit excited...even if my heart is heavy with library fines. I got my first phone call from a collection agency this morning. The man I talked to was quite friendly.
It occured to me, that those collectors are real people...not big hairy, sharp toothed monsters. They perhaps, have more reason to consider ME a barbarian, for neglecting my duties as an outstanding citizen. If I were one anyway.
--

"Hello, may I speak with Johanna B-ee-strym please?"

"This is Johanna."

"I'm calling on behalf of Herrick District Library, regarding some over due items."

*pause, with breathing*

"Um, were you aware of that?"

"Well, I was...but I haven't thought about it much, because I've not been home a whole lot. Am I able to return the items still?"

"Yes you can return the items, you'll just have to pay the late fees then...you're still in the early stages, so your credit hasn't received any marks yet."

"Wonderful, I'm really sorry, I'll call my family and see if they can track the stuff down...I'm not at home now. Thank you for the reminder."

"No problem, thank you."
--

There what do you think about that? I think I feel like a loser. Now my parents have to track it all down and return it for me.

In other news, I used my first credit card, for the first time ever last night, on gas....

***OH oh! My dad found the items, in the basement, by the washer, bagged and ready to be returned.***

Freezing in Michigan.

It's below freezing here in Michigan, no snow, but cold, as demonstrated by dad and Isaiah.

Tomorrow I fly to AZ.... temperatures in the 80's.

Me, gloating? Neva.