Day 7 (part 1)

I can't say how much I love my church members. I can't remember ever finding this kind of family and support from church. I guess growing up in a religion like mine it has always just been a ritual; a time to see friends and sing songs. But goodness... it's so supportive. We have become our own group. We care for each other we listen to one another. Ah, Saturday afternoons are my favorite. There is just so much reflecting over our week and our experiences, both common and unalike. So much support and good natured fun...
I'm slightly frustrated because the way that I feel I can't seem to express quite right in words yet. So, this is what I will leave you about this matter for now. There is a whirlwind more to say and this entry is not tribute enough.

Happy Sabbath. And for those of you without a Sabbath, Blessings!

Knots and Loopings

I'm strangely dispirited today. Easy to anger. Usually when I get like this a good run with Switchfoot or Casting Crowns blaring in my ears does me well. agh. I went for a walk. Still disheartened. It looks like it's going to rain. Do you ever know that something is on your mind but you can't pin point the middle of the tangle? There's a knot but you can't find the two opposite strings to begin breaking down all the little loops and circles. It's a restless kind of feeling. One you want to shove off the end of a cliff into the oblivion of not caring. Ugh. Frustrating.

But I am still clay
If I could but touch His robe
A handful of hem
If I could walk across this water
And turn mustard seed into mountain
Oh bring me to Your table
Respond to my reaching
Be the brave in my beating heart
And untangle what lies there in
Oh Lord I know
I know
I am still clay

A Natural Experience

The other day I woke up with little matter on my agenda. It's like a another world, living out here. Natures natural hum and harmony blending into the quiet. A quiet void of cars, trucks, and angry neighbors. The day before Ham had mowed the lawn. I don't know what it is about freshly cut grass, but that day it did wonders for my mood. I stood on our back deck and looked out at the 2 acres of land guarded by the surrounding woods, it was so peaceful, so beautiful! I thought "goodness, I want to do something to complement this scenery!" So I got a broom and started sweeping off all the decomposing leaves that had blown their way in between the cracks and spaces in the deck. I swept and swept, gathering leaves, small twigs, and spider webs till there was a huge pile on one side of the deck. Then with the end of the broom I shimmied the Mother Nature's leftovers between the wooden railings and off the side of the hill by our house. I was happy watching all the little leaves fall over the edge to the ground where they would turn back into dirt. Stepping back I surveyed my work. The deck was clean! I arranged the furniture and wiped off the table only to step back again and notice what my labor had accomplished. After all that I still wanted to do more. For who?
It wasn't enough to clean up and get rid of last years plant life that had accumulated on the deck, I wanted nature closer than all the way out in the field. I wanted nature to come, alight on my deck, and live closest to the house. SO, even though I am a poor poor student I left the house and came back with a trunk full of flowers and pots. By then I had decided that this was a gift for mom, who seldom gets gifts 'just because.'
Potting and placing those plants on the deck was absolutely the best work experience I've had all semester. I welcomed the sweat down my back and the dirt in my finger nails. I was proud of the ache in my thighs from standing and squatting repeatedly over those little pots. I didn't even get mad at Alexus for getting all dirty when I watered the flowers with the hose.
The hardest part of it all was realizing that what I had done was good, and then having to wait for mom to get home to see it. And then I knew, without a doubt that He was telling me something. How on earth am I going to raise $40,000 this summer? I asked Him repeatedly throughout the day. And there the answer was, in the work of my hands, in the hours devoted to my task, in the way I had given up my meager funds to make someone else happy.

"Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."
Luke 6:38

With One Life

Saturday I stood up in church during the testimony time to tell everyone that I was going back to AU next year. This went over well, of course they were all proud I was returning to finish my education. I then told them that my goal for the summer was to sing as much as possible, write as much as I could, and sell as many Cd's as I could get out. The goal being to raise $40,000 for tuition and school. All the while thinking, My God is Bigger than this sum!
Since I said those words there have been moments of absolute reassurance that I can do this. Then there are times when I just don't believe in myself at all. Those times are always eaten away with the acidic and addictive allure of hope. It's seeping in through the cracks in the walls. Everywhere I turn I am finding affirmation and support for this summers work. I honestly, and wholeheartedly believe I can do this.
When I stood up to speak in church I could read my fellow members eyes. Some glazed over, not even hearing my words. Some wouldn't meet my eyes. But there were so many of them who nodded in deep approval. For those who couldn't see my vision, maybe they are right in their own way, to believe that this large goal is unreachable in one summers work. But they can be right in their own old way. I'm just happy that I'm young enough to not see what they have seen of the world; to not feel the disappointment of pushing and shoving and not receiving any support in return. I'm glad my experience on this earth is innocent enough to not be so utterly disappointed in my fellow man, in my own ability, that I let it crowd out my abounding faith in what my Father can do. I refuse to let fear hold me back. He's DYING to do this for me, I know it! He's crying out to do it for anyone, he just needs us, wants us to ask it of Him; to expect it of Him. And this is the place where I will fight my battle from. In the old testament, when God was asked who he was, his simple yet ever perfect reply was "I Am." And yes He Is. Capable. Ready. Willing. Powerful. Omnipotent. Strong Enough. My Father. I Am. He can, and I am willing to be his instrument this summer. It's so scary, but I'm so ready for this adventure.

TrueWind THIS

I'M SINGING AT TRUE WIND! i mean i had been telling people that i was but now it is official! yayyyyaayayaayayaayyayyay!

Guitar chords run through my veins. Corny? POSSIBLY! i'm so excited. quite...

Confidence in Coincidence

It is my goal to perform somewhere every weekend for the entire summer! EVERY WEEKEND I want to sing somewhere with my good friend Jane (ahem, guitar). And by that I mean going EVERYWHERE. Up and down this coast (and possibly the other one and inbetween) I will carry my guitar, wherever I can find an open door and a stage, God willing.

And in more news:

SO, I'm trying to decide about AU. The largest thing holding me back is money. I know this for a fact. And then in my e-mail I get a random message from someone I don't even know. It is as follows....

I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me; thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God. Ps. 40:17.
Do not let your great need discourage you. The Saviour of sinners, the Friend of the friendless, with compassion infinitely greater than that of a tender mother for a loved and afflicted child, is inviting, "Look unto me, and be ye saved" (Isa. 45:22).

So is that an answer to my question? Isn't that STRANGE, but yet SUPER COOL!? My God is a God of STEALTH AND SNEAKY-LIKE BEHAVIOR. Imagine that...

Static Brain!

All good things happen in 3 weeks! WiFEY comes. Andrews gets out so I won't be alone alll summer! And WCU gets out so I won't have to keep "attending" classes. HORAH!

I had a kick ass time in MI SO MUCH FUUUUUNNNNN!! man i miss people.

SO I get home and mom asks if I want to go back to AU. WELL! MAYBE I DO! Except where on God's green earth am I going to find $20,000 laying around? Or maybe I want to go to WCU... now that I have a choice... POOP!

My mind is everywhere. I can't focus. I need to write things and get stuff done but I have static brain. SORRY! SORRY IF I HAVE STATIC BRAIN AND CAN'T PAY ATTENTION TO THE RIGHT THINGS THIS INSTANT!

Oh static brain. OH!

Half & Half

I had the greatest time last night. I introduced Jane to the stage. I played her while I sang at Fusion. It takes my breath away every time I walk out in front of an audience. And even more so when I have the chance to join that audience in praise and worship. But I did sing last night...

I would like to say that I sang my heart out to the hundreds of people there, but that isn't so much truth. I did sing, I did strum, but I felt half of me was out there. I don't know what it was but I felt like I left Him back stage. Why didn't I take Him with me?

*sigh... I think I was singing for me; listening to my own voice, congratulating myself on my musical knowledge. All the while He was the one who instilled in me a desire and likening to music. He was the one who heard my prayer to sing...

And what did I do? I left Him back stage and sang half heartedly. I know I reached some people, but just think what that song could have done if He was with me...

-Keep your lanterns lit. Keep watch all through the night, you will never know when He will come asking for you to be ready. You just never know when the thief will come-

Like A Magnet

Today I drove 10 hours to be here in Michigan. Although it is deathly cold (as one would expect), it was well worth the drive. Just this night alone. Just the deep embracing, the greetings and mood inspired laughing. Just the faces, the noted changes in the last 4 months. The chatter... the questions. "I love you, I missed you." An occasion to ignore homework; to trade in sleep deprivation for a rare chance at catching up. Gosh I miss this. It was well worth the 20 accumulated hours of solitude. My ipod served me well.

Oh sweet familiarity! I am a moth to the flame...

I am Woman

This post is for Melanie.
I can't say I've ever written a poem like this before. Or even in this fashion. But I was inspired; and then by Melanie I was supported.

Men love our curves
That is where we keep our mystery.
We balance worlds on our hips and
Cradle innocence in the crook of our arms.
Our breasts support, comfort, and drain the tears of pain and
Confusion.
The dip from our neck to our well crafted shoulders is where we bid fear to slide and slither away; where
knowledge and pride rest gracefully.
The collar bone to the chin is home to deep seeded passions and secrets
Never ending secrets.
The arch of the back to the hollow of our spine and
Our calves tilted high is
Where you might find constellations of surprise
The flip of our wrists, the palm of our hands is where
We give our thanks, how we show our praise.
Our sturdy fingers, knuckles and nails catch oceans of hope, winds of change…
The hollows of our eyes to the strength in our thighs
Makes us powerful, mystical, desired…
And thus
Creates us
Woman

when morning breaks

The road to self discovery is entitled to its ups and downs. But none can conquer what one feels when made aware of the final destination. Just the shimmering outline of the horizon looming over the darkest of hills is enough to make you fall and weep on your knees. It seems to be an involuntary buckling of the joints that drags the shins to the dirt. But there is no betrayal to the mission in this action. No, Despite what we think, the body knows, it KNOWS that to give thanks is the most natural reaction to a journey meeting it's finale. It must stop and thank our Creator that 'yes' we, body mind and soul, made it this far. And as the tears and sweat and blood mingle with the dirt that made you and one day will become you, the journey's reoccurring theme of despondency is endurable because you've never felt so great in your life. Never... It's the painful malaise of the birth and the overpowering beauty that ensues; the mingling of the sticky sweat of a progressive struggle with the sweet and unbridled tears of flowing praise. How wonderful. How lovely... And that's just the horizon. Just the beginning.

Ask and you shall receive. He needs our words; our affirmation to put the world in our hands.

And I

Today I arrived at work five hours early so I decided to spend some leisurely hours at Barnes&Noble; the gateway to information. It was another half hour away and even though the gas prices keep on arising I made the journey.
And then I lazed in the chairs gazing over books and magazines whilst listening to my ipod.
And I watched people saunter to and from shelves with one book and maybe two...
And I glared at the woman who didn't hire me (that was my favorite thing...)
And then I bought 2 books simply because of the fact that I couldn't help myself.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy & The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards.
And even though I still had two hours to spare before my real shift began, I was happy, because I got to spend my afternoon in a complete dream world.
Alas, life is good

Pity Party

Today I turned 22. I had to work early this morning at my book keeping job. Then I worked a double at Applebees and didn't get out til 8:30. Which means I missed all but two singers on American Idol. *sigh... And when I did get home mom was gone to her meeting. I knew she wouldn't be there because she woke me up early to wish me happy birthday. Albert was home for a moment and didn't mention my birthday. Ham on the other hand got me some perfume. What a nice little brother. All in all, I'm having my own pitty party. It was a nice day I guess, when stood up and compared to all the other ordinary days. But this was my BIRTHDAY; only coming but once a year. A day for me. Is it bad of me to wish that it had something special in it? I mean... *sigh. Something?
But anyway. HOrah for 22. and HOrah for wifey. without her, the day would have been a total bust.

Older

twenty-two
when do i become grown
as of tuesday, this will be my worth in years

i've decided that when i finally do have kids (in about 10 years) i'm going to name my first girl child Starr. i've decided that when i finally do give birth to a small girl child, it will be in the morning, and in the spring. and... and that's all i've decided for now. happy sabbath friends.

train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old he will not depart from it. - the bible ;)

Limerick

Today was the strangest day. I'm not even sure I lived it yet. I woke up this morning and talked to God about some personal things that have been on my heart. Usually I try to make time for Him in the morning. I attempt to ingest a slice of scripture. At the least I talk to him in the shower or on my way to work. But today I woke up with dread. Have you ever felt that? My mind was heavy with worry and negative wonder before I was fully awake. Usually those moments we spend between worlds whilst waking are where we remember our true selves. The time of day where there is no pressure to be or do or need... Of course it quickly dissipates into forcing ones self out of a cocoon of warmth (*sigh in remembrance). Today I was robbed of that whole modus operandi. It seems that my mental morning ritual was strained and stressed. I woke up sweating and anxious; about what I know not. But I went about my morning as usual and everything seemed fine. Then work, then class... And here is where the feeling came back. I didn't know how to shake it friends.
After class I had Pedro, a cup of coffee, and about $10 in gas. There are a plentitude of things I could have done with such provisions. What did I do?
Every week I seem to have a song of choice. This week I can't stop listening to "Sound of Melodies" by Leeland. So down went my windows and up my volume. And I was filled with praise, almost to the point of tears. So strange... my heart was so full. So full of just... mirth. What's another word? Something better than merriment? Joy? Gosh... the English language is limiting. I needed to talk and to be understood. I needed to cry. I needed someone. I needed my dad.
In the six years since his death I have not once visited my dads grave. Of course there have been plans and dates set to visit... But I guess my explanation for why I never did requires insight from the bible. 'There is a time for everything.' I read that last night, before I fell asleep. Gosh...
And so... me and Pedro traveled to Limerick Memorial Gardens to visit dad. It was the perfect evening to go... Just Spring.
I'm not sure what else I can say now. I'd like to keep going, tie it all up in a nice ending for you, but I'm still not sure why I made that trip, and what it means to me now... I do know that it was perfect. That and something in me is changing. Something... *sigh

Jazz Tape

Music makes a difference, doesn' it. My dad had this tape that he loved to play in the van rides to and from any week day destination. And I can't complain because I fell in love with it too. His favorite song to play was "What A Wonderful World" by Loui Armstrong. Today that song is near and dear to my heart for the simple fact that dad found so much solace in it. But the song that drew me in every time I heard it as a child was actually the song that I named my blog after. 'One Moment in Time,' was sung by Whitney Houston way back when she was skinny by nature and not by drug habits. Haha. Yes it's true... In those moments, riding shot gun to and from school with dad and my brothers, all I loved about the song was Whitney's voice and the sound of the music. As I grew older the tape was lost but the song continued to find me in elevators, supermarkets, and restaurants who pumped late 80's and early 90's music as mood softeners for their customers. Pretty soon the lyrics played in my mind over and over again till the song was more than just easy listening. It was a reason to stop my personal shopping and inwardly sing along to Whitney's passionate vocals. Today that song brings to me a bit of nostalgia mixed with awe. It's strange that a secular song can pump my veins with so much energy and longing. But then again, whenever I hear that song the only thing I can think about is doing something inredible for Christ; for what I believe in. I don't think my dad knew what he started in me when he played that cassette in the car. But I'm sure he would be proud of the aftermath.

One Moment in Time
Each day I live
I want to be a day to give the best of me
I'm only one, but not alone
My finest day is yet unknown
I broke my heart for ev'ry gain
To taste the sweet, I faced the pain
I rise and fall, yet through it all this much remains
I want

One moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heart beat away
And the answers are all up to me
Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that on moment of time
I will feel, I will feel eternity

I will live to be the very best
I want it all, no time for less
I've laid the plans
Now lay the chance here in my hands
Give me

(Chorus)

You're a winner for a lifetime
If you seize that one moment in time
Make it shine
Give me

JANE!

Tab on the guitar is the equivalent to notes on sheet music. the only difference is that the placement of the notes are not as accurate as the ones placed in piano music. therefore, a lot of the deciphering and decoding is left to the ear. I'm wondering how I did not fall into this form of playing before. I have dabbled in it of course, to learn Switchfoot and Chris Rice. But recently, I have fallen in love with it thanks to the late Eva Cassidy. I see doors to natural dissection of guitar theory opening up to me. Knowledge at my fingertips. Chord progressions and picking styles. WHAT A WORLD. How did I miss it so readily? Me and Jane (name of guitar) will go far.

is there an exorcist in the house?

Three to four days a month mild mannered (haha yet dramatic) Crystal is transformed into a self centered and insecure ball of moodiness. Not to forget the neediness that static clings my feelings to any unsuspecting kindred spirit. Suddenly every-day human interactions are mentally broken down and dissected in an analytical circuit that (no matter what the physical task at hand may be)cannot be broken or interrupted. The conclusions of these mild delusions are often passionate pleas for more love, more attention, or repellents of any of the slightest bit of otherwise tolerable irritations. My appetite is no longer wired through my stomach. It takes some alternate route that never really sends signals to my brain until my body is faint and my extremities weak. Then, as if to riot the sudden change in diet, I can eat with an adequate supply of hunger only to find that my taste buds are revolted with whatever scrumptious delights I lay hands on! What is this demon that captures it's monthly feed on my body? PMS! PMS MUST BE STOPPED. It is RUINING my LIFE! Isn't there some exorcism? Some remedy... cry...

Settling in for Spring

Anthony is on the couch watching a movie eating chicken. His Africa hoody is draped over the back of our leather couch, matching Pumas in the corner. He's lounging. With his legs spread and his torso supported by his arm.
Mom is on the computer in the sun room. The sun has long since set and now the only light that illuminates her frame is what is shining head on from the screen. She sits in a straight backed kitchen chair, slightly hunched over the keyboard. Her hand poised on the mouse... ready to conquer and divide. Haha, those darn cards...
Ham is in his room. Downloading, typing, watching TV. Today he let Anthony take a buzzer to his head. All his glorious Samson locks covered my bathroom floor. Now those well grown hairs blanket the bottom of the trash can that sits at the end of our driveway. Tomorrow is trash day.
Albert. Busy Albert. He's buzzing around. Cell phone to house phone. Kitchen for scrounging to fill a belly that has emptied over the past week. Then off to his portable office; his car, our dining room table, the living room. Always in passing. Consulting a mother in the sun room. Falling asleep awkwardly on the couch, the bed, the floor, all three at once. Albert is home.
Then dear Alexus. Chewy, sleepy, sporadic Alexus. Searching for a game, a quick rub behind the ears, or an easy snatch at a morsel of food. Her only busy-bodied rival would be Albert. Neither can settle on a home.
And I... I write, I play guitar, dream, imagine.. saunter upstairs to visit the happenings. Nothing new... drink some water.
*sigh, it's comfortable the way we live this Sunday. The lazy day for our family

chillins a plenty

the children have been here all week. tomorrow they depart. the house will be quiet without them. oh small chillins.