Lioness

It has been a long while - yet again - since I have opened this page and written a new blog post.  I have had so many things to blog about, so many experiences I've wanted to share, but somehow there hasn't been enough time to sit and write about them. 

And that's okay.  Really. 

I wanted to share about the amazing experience of Candlelight Caroling at Disneyland (sometimes referred to as "My Hometown").  Not long after I wanted to share about reuniting with my LOGgers at the LOG Christmas party (LOG stands for Love of God, by the way) and how uplifted my spirit was after seeing them.  Then I wanted to reflect on the sadness I felt recently about witnessing a family reach their breaking point.  And then I became - somehow - embroiled in a huge, disgusting drama about what is deemed to be appropriate and inappropriate for today's Orthodox Christian. 

Done.  I shared them all.  Boom.  In one, fell swoop I clued you all in on the delights and struggles of my life as of late.  Well, sure - there's always more to a story, but I don't really feel like going into any of them right now. 

Instead I want to share an experience I had while I was (finally) falling asleep last night.  I felt unsettled and frustrated, angry and hurt.  A million words were flying through my head.  Words people said in anger or in defense, to hurt or to soothe.  Words I wanted to say.  Words I knew I shouldn't say.  Words danced around, in and out of my grasp, until I became frustrated not only at the situation I found myself in, but at the words that usually came so easily.

I love words.  I think words are - truly - awesome.  I love that words can communicate, distract, enlighten, darken, heal, hurt... There is power in words.  There is play in words.  There is joy in words.  There is a certain melody and dance to the rhythm of words, and I love to play with it. 

That being said, I get very clear mental images sometimes.  They frighten me sometimes because they come from nowhere and can be so clear and vivid that I find myself distracted from reality, if only for a moment.  Usually I find words to accompany the picture - that tends to come easily enough.  A descriptor, a mood to the image comes to my mind and I find myself back in my comfort zone, the land of words. 

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep I had a vivid picture appear in my mind.  It was a picture of me.  I picked up a piece of broken glass, the piece of a mirror, and I saw my reflection.  This reflection shocked me.  It was not me, or anything that I thought resembled me. 

My reflection was a lioness.  A lioness that gave me a smile of sorts, a homecoming, a "so glad you finally figured this out," kind of a look.

I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my lips.  I would never have assumed to be a lioness.  A bird, sure.  I can definitely be flighty at times.  Mayhap even a horse.  I enjoy a certain amount of freedom, but am a homebody and a hard worker.  But a lioness?  No.  She is fierce.  She is strong.  She is a fighter.  She may not be as delicate as some animals, nor as exotic as others, but she is a force with which to be reckoned. 

When I woke up today I could actually feel her - my - power.  As I pushed out of bed I saw in my mind's eye her shoulders as she pushed to standing.  As I went throughout my day I felt in myself a new kind of power - new but not foreign, as if it had been waiting for me to claim it, to own it.  I became glad of a new facet to my identity. 

I am a lioness. 

Look out, world.



Painting credit: craftworks.wordpress.com

Glory to God For All Things

This Akathist, or prayer service, is said at my church every year on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.  It touches my heart every, single time and I wanted to share it with you all.  It's amazing how in every verse there was something that I felt to be directly relevant to me.

Happy Thanksgiving.  Glory to God for all things!!!

Kontakion 1

Everlasting King, Thy will for our salvation is full of power. Thy right arm controls the whole course of human life. We give Thee thanks for all Thy mercies, seen and unseen. For eternal life, for the heavenly joys of the Kingdom which is to be. Grant mercy to us who sing Thy praise, both now and in the time to come. Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age.

Ikos 1

I was born a weak, defenceless child, but Thine angel spread his wings over my cradle to defend me. From birth until now Thy love has illumined my path, and has wondrously guided me towards the light of eternity; from birth until now the generous gifts of Thy providence have been marvelously showered upon me. I give Thee thanks, with all who have come to know Thee, who call upon Thy name.

Glory to Thee for calling me into being
Glory to Thee, showing me the beauty of the universe
Glory to Thee, spreading out before me heaven and earth
Like the pages in a book of eternal wisdom
Glory to Thee for Thine eternity in this fleeting world
Glory to Thee for Thy mercies, seen and unseen
Glory to Thee through every sigh of my sorrow
Glory to Thee for every step of my life's journey
For every moment of glory
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 2

O Lord, how lovely it is to be Thy guest. Breeze full of scents; mountains reaching to the skies; waters like boundless mirrors, reflecting the sun's golden rays and the scudding clouds. All nature murmurs mysteriously, breathing the depth of tenderness. Birds and beasts of the forest bear the imprint of Thy love. Blessed art thou, mother earth, in thy fleeting loveliness, which wakens our yearning for happiness that will last for ever, in the land where, amid beauty that grows not old, the cry rings out: Alleluia!

Ikos 2

Thou hast brought me into life as into an enchanted paradise. We have seen the sky like a chalice of deepest blue, where in the azure heights the birds are singing. We have listened to the soothing murmur of the forest and the melodious music of the streams. We have tasted fruit of fine flavour and the sweet-scented honey. We can live very well on Thine earth. It is a pleasure to be Thy guest.

Glory to Thee for the Feast Day of life
Glory to Thee for the perfume of lilies and roses
Glory to Thee for each different taste of berry and fruit
Glory to Thee for the sparkling silver of early morning dew
Glory to Thee for the joy of dawn's awakening
Glory to Thee for the new life each day brings
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 3

It is the Holy Spirit who makes us find joy in each flower, the exquisite scent, the delicate colour, the beauty of the Most High in the tiniest of things. Glory and honour to the Spirit, the Giver of Life, who covers the fields with their carpet of flowers, crowns the harvest with gold, and gives to us the joy of gazing at it with our eyes. O be joyful and sing to Him: Alleluia!

Ikos 3

How glorious art Thou in the springtime, when every creature awakes to new life and joyfully sings Thy praises with a thousand tongues. Thou art the Source of Life, the Destroyer of Death. By the light of the moon, nightingales sing, and the valleys and hills lie like wedding garments, white as snow. All the earth is Thy promised bride awaiting her spotless husband. If the grass of the field is like this, how gloriously shall we be transfigured in the Second Coming after the Resurrection! How splendid our bodies, how spotless our souls!

Glory to Thee, bringing from the depth of the earth an endless variety of colours, tastes and scents
Glory to Thee for the warmth and tenderness of the world of nature
Glory to Thee for the numberless creatures around us
Glory to Thee for the depths of Thy wisdom, the whole world a living sign of it
Glory to Thee; on my knees, I kiss the traces of Thine unseen hand
Glory to Thee, enlightening us with the clearness of eternal life
Glory to Thee for the hope of the unutterable, imperishable beauty of immortality
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 4

How filled with sweetness are those whose thoughts dwell on Thee; how life-giving Thy holy Word. To speak with Thee is more soothing than anointing with oil; sweeter than the honeycomb. To pray to Thee lifts the spirit, refreshes the soul. Where Thou art not, there is only emptiness; hearts are smitten with sadness; nature, and life itself, become sorrowful; where Thou art, the soul is filled with abundance, and its song resounds like a torrent of life: Alleluia!

Ikos 4

When the sun is setting, when quietness falls like the peace of eternal sleep, and the silence of the spent day reigns, then in the splendour of its declining rays, filtering through the clouds, I see Thy dwelling-place: fiery and purple, gold and blue, they speak prophet-like of the ineffable beauty of Thy presence, and call to us in their majesty. We turn to the Father.

Glory to Thee at the hushed hour of nightfall
Glory to Thee, covering the earth with peace
Glory to Thee for the last ray of the sun as it sets
Glory to Thee for sleep's repose that restores us
Glory to Thee for Thy goodness even in the time of darkness
When all the world is hidden from our eyes
Glory to Thee for the prayers offered by a trembling soul
Glory to Thee for the pledge of our reawakening
On that glorious last day, that day which has no evening
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 5

The dark storm clouds of life bring no terror to those in whose hearts Thy fire is burning brightly. Outside is the darkness of the whirlwind, the terror and howling of the storm, but in the heart, in the presence of Christ, there is light and peace, silence: Alleluia!

Ikos 5

I see Thine heavens resplendent with stars. How glorious art Thou radiant with light! Eternity watches me by the rays of the distant stars. I am small, insignificant, but the Lord is at my side. Thy right arm guides me wherever I go.

Glory to Thee, ceaselessly watching over me
Glory to Thee for the encounters Thou dost arrange for me
Glory to Thee for the love of parents, for the faithfulness of friends
Glory to Thee for the humbleness of the animals which serve me
Glory to Thee for the unforgettable moments of life
Glory to Thee for the heart's innocent joy
Glory to Thee for the joy of living
Moving and being able to return Thy love
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 6

How great and how close art Thou in the powerful track of the storm! How mighty Thy right arm in the blinding flash of the lightning! How awesome Thy majesty! The voice of the Lord fills the fields, it speaks in the rustling of the trees. The voice of the Lord is in the thunder and the downpour. The voice of the Lord is heard above the waters. Praise be to Thee in the roar of mountains ablaze. Thou dost shake the earth like a garment; Thou dost pile up to the sky the waves of the sea. Praise be to Thee, bringing low the pride of man. Thou dost bring from his heart a cry of Penitence: Alleluia!

Ikos 6

When the lightning flash has lit up the camp dining hall, how feeble seems the light from the lamp. Thus dost Thou, like the lightning, unexpectedly light up my heart with flashes of intense joy. After Thy blinding light, how drab, how colourless, how illusory all else seems. My souls clings to Thee.

Glory to Thee, the highest peak of men's dreaming
Glory to Thee for our unquenchable thirst for communion with God
Glory to Thee, making us dissatisfied with earthly things
Glory to Thee, turning on us Thine healing rays
Glory to Thee, subduing the power of the spirits of darkness
And dooming to death every evil
Glory to Thee for the signs of Thy presence
For the joy of hearing Thy voice and living in Thy love
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 7

In the wondrous blending of sounds it is Thy call we hear; in the harmony of many voices, in the sublime beauty of music, in the glory of the works of great composers: Thou leadest us to the threshold of paradise to come, and to the choirs of angels. All true beauty has the power to draw the soul towards Thee, and to make it sing in ecstasy: Alleluia!

Ikos 7

The breath of Thine Holy Spirit inspires artists, poets and scientists. The power of Thy supreme knowledge makes them prophets and interpreters of Thy laws, who reveal the depths of Thy creative wisdom. Their works speak unwittingly of Thee. How great art Thou in Thy creation! How great art Thou in man!

Glory to Thee, showing Thine unsurpassable power in the laws of the universe
Glory to Thee, for all nature is filled with Thy laws
Glory to Thee for what Thou hast revealed to us in Thy mercy
Glory to Thee for what Thou hast hidden from us in Thy wisdom
Glory to Thee for the inventiveness of the human mind
Glory to Thee for the dignity of man's labour
Glory to Thee for the tongues of fire that bring inspiration
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 8

How near Thou art in the day of sickness. Thou Thyself visitest the sick; Thou Thyself bendest over the sufferer's bed. His heart speaks to Thee. In the throes of sorrow and suffering Thou bringest peace and unexpected consolation. Thou art the comforter. Thou art the love which watches over and heals us. To Thee we sing the song: Alleluia!

Ikos 8

When in childhood I called upon Thee consciously for the first time, Thou didst hear my prayer, and Thou didst fill my heart with the blessing of peace. At that moment I knew Thy goodness and knew how blessed are those who turn to Thee. I started to call upon Thee night and day; and now even now I call upon Thy name.

Glory to Thee, satisfying my desires with good things
Glory to Thee, watching over me day and night
Glory to Thee, curing affliction and emptiness with the healing flow of time
Glory to Thee, no loss is irreparable in Thee, Giver of eternal life to all
Glory to Thee, making immortal all that is lofty and good
Glory to Thee, promising us the longed-for meeting with our loved ones who have died
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 9

Why is it that on a Feast Day the whole of nature mysteriously smiles? Why is it that then a heavenly gladness fills our hearts; a gladness far beyond that of earth and the very air in church and in the altar becomes luminous? It is the breath of Thy gracious love. It is the reflection of the glory of Mount Tabor. Then do heaven and earth sing Thy praise: Alleluia!

Ikos 9

When Thou didst call me to serve my brothers and filled my soul with humility, one of Thy deep, piercing rays shone into my heart; it became luminous, full of light like iron glowing in the furnace. I have seen Thy face, face of mystery and of unapproachable glory.

Glory to Thee, transfiguring our lives with deeds of love
Glory to Thee, making wonderfully Sweet the keeping of Thy commandments
Glory to Thee, making Thyself known where man shows mercy on his neighbour
Glory to Thee, sending us failure and misfortune that we may understand the sorrows of others
Glory to Thee, rewarding us so well for the good we do
Glory to Thee, welcoming the impulse of our heart's love
Glory to Thee, raising to the heights of heaven every act of love in earth and sky
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 10

No one can put together what has crumbled into dust, but Thou canst restore a conscience turned to ashes. Thou canst restore to its former beauty a soul lost and without hope. With Thee, there is nothing that cannot be redeemed. Thou art love; Thou art Creator and Redeemer. We praise Thee, singing: Alleluia!

Ikos 10

Remember, my God, the fall of Lucifer full of pride, keep me safe with the power of Thy Grace; save me from falling away from Thee. Save me from doubt. Incline my heart to hear Thy mysterious voice every moment of my life. Incline my heart to call upon Thee, present in everything.

Glory to Thee for every happening
Every condition Thy providence has put me in
Glory to Thee for what Thou speakest to me in my heart
Glory to Thee for what Thou revealest to me, asleep or awake
Glory to Thee for scattering our vain imaginations
Glory to Thee for raising us from the slough of our passions through suffering
Glory to Thee for curing our pride of heart by humiliation
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 11

Across the cold chains of the centuries, I feel the warmth of Thy breath, I feel Thy blood pulsing in my veins. Part of time has already gone, but now Thou art the present. I stand by Thy Cross; I was the cause of it. I cast myself down in the dust before it. Here is the triumph of love, the victory of salvation. Here the centuries themselves cannot remain silent, singing Thy praises: Alleluia!

Ikos 11

Blessed are they that will share in the King's Banquet: but already on earth Thou givest me a foretaste of this blessedness. How many times with Thine own hand hast Thou held out to me Thy Body and Thy Blood, and I, though a miserable sinner, have received this Mystery, and have tasted Thy love, so ineffable, so heavenly.

Glory to Thee for the unquenchable fire of Thy Grace
Glory to Thee, building Thy Church, a haven of peace in a tortured world
Glory to Thee for the life-giving water of Baptism in which we find new birth
Glory to Thee, restoring to the penitent purity white as the lily
Glory to Thee for the cup of salvation and the bread of eternal joy
Glory to Thee for exalting us to the highest heaven
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 12

How often have I seen the reflection of Thy glory in the faces of the dead. How resplendent they were, with beauty and heavenly joy. How ethereal, how translucent their faces. How triumphant over suffering and death, their felicity and peace. Even in the silence they were calling upon Thee. In the hour of my death, enlighten my soul, too, that it may cry out to Thee: Alleluia!

Ikos 12

What sort of praise can I give Thee? I have never heard the song of the Cherubim, a joy reserved for the spirits above. But I know the praises that nature sings to Thee. In winter, I have beheld how silently in the moonlight the whole earth offers Thee prayer, clad in its white mantle of snow, sparkling like diamonds. I have seen how the rising sun rejoices in Thee, how the song of the birds is a chorus of praise to Thee. I have heard the mysterious mutterings of the forests about Thee, and the winds singing Thy praise as they stir the waters. I have understood how the choirs of stars proclaim Thy glory as they move forever in the depths of infinite space. What is my poor worship! All nature obeys Thee, I do not. Yet while I live, I see Thy love, I long to thank Thee, and call upon Thy name.

Glory to Thee, giving us light
Glory to Thee, loving us with love so deep, divine and infinite
Glory to Thee, blessing us with light, and with the host of angels and saints
Glory to Thee, Father all-holy, promising us a share in Thy Kingdom
Glory to Thee, Holy Spirit, life-giving Sun of the world to come
Glory to Thee for all things, Holy and most merciful Trinity
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Kontakion 13

Life-giving and merciful Trinity, receive my thanksgiving for all Thy goodness. Make us worthy of Thy blessings, so that, when we have brought to fruit the talents Thou hast entrusted to us, we may enter into the joy of our Lord, forever exulting in the shout of victory: Alleluia!

Icon written by Daryl Cochran

Introducing...

Mortimer Mouse!!

Now mice are nervous creatures as a rule, but Mortimer - poor Mortimer! - he made the rest seem relaxed.

The latest love of my life, this little guy is completely occupying my mind.  I'm working on meeting his friend, Miss Suzie Sparrow, but she seems to be a little less anxious to be known.  They have, however, already completed a fun little adventure - which may find its way to the blog at some point.

I just love this little guy :)

A Love Letter - Of Sorts

To the One God has chosen for me,

I've been thinking about you a lot lately.  I find myself wondering who you are...What do you do?  Do you sit at a desk all day?  Do you teach?  Coach?  Fight fires, or catch bad guys?  What do you look like?  Are you tall?  Blond?  Brunette?  I'll be shocked if you have red hair, but I guess that doesn't mean you don't. 

And where are you?  Do you live here, or in another city?  And are you a stranger or have we met and just weren't ready for each other? 

I have so much to tell you, so much to share.  After all, I have 25 years of experiences you don't know.  And I can't wait to hear about all the moments of your life I haven't been a part of.  What stories will your family and friends tell me?  How embarrassed will you be?  I have plenty of my own that are embarrassing...But I know you'll enjoy hearing them as much as I will enjoy hearing yours.

I don't always wonder about you, you know, although lately it does seem like you've been occupying more of my thoughts.  I lead a good, happy, full life.  I give a lot of love and receive even more in return.  I am surrounded by people who lift me up and keep me going when I don't know that I can.

But more and more lately I have felt like something is missing.  It's not something necessary for survival.  It's like I feel like I'm missing a rib.  I'm not quite whole, and yet - if I had to - I could lead a complete and happy life.  The missing rib just gives me a pang every now and again.

You are my missing rib, and I am yours - and that's just the way it is.  And until I find you no other rib will do.  I can't settle for one that seems appealing, but doesn't fit.  I won't.  So I wait for you.

Sometimes I get impatient, and the wait seems unbearable, but that's a struggle in every part of my life.  Can I apologize for that now?  I can be very patient with people (small children, especially), but when I want something I have a horribly hard time waiting for it.

Do you have a hard time waiting for me?  Or are you just living your life, blissfully unaware as of yet that your rib is out here, waiting for you to find her? 

I know it's God's timing, God's will, that I am waiting on.  And until He deems us both ready I will continue to wait.  I pray for you every night.  I am so excited to meet you.  Take care of yourself until I can help take care of you.

Love,

Steph

My Blog's Name - FINALLY Explained

I've been thinking the past few days about why I named my blog "A Life of Fiction."  It's always been clear to me, but I know it may not be clear to everyone else. 

You see, I have a fairly strange and bizarre life.  Sometimes I think I actually do lead a life of fiction; at times there is no other way my life could be described.  In college I developed a theory about why this is so. 

I appreciate the little things. 

That's all it comes down to.  I take such delight in the lttle things, feel such exultation in small miracles, find such joy in embracing the ridiculous, have such fun in laughing at the bizarre that I tend to be a magnet for amazingly big deals.  Lately, unfortunately, I haven't been embracing the little things.  It's been sad.  I've gotten caught up in life and all its details that somehow I have somehow missed out on what I love so much about LIFE.  In a weird way, I seem to have been so caught up in looking at the forest that I haven't been able to notice the trees.

I am happy to notice how that has been changing as of late.  I think I first noticed it when the other day I checked my Twitter feed and saw that a friend had tweeted 'I'll never get married in a castle. I couldn't bear to hear the pastor say "I'm sorry, but the princess is in another castle".'  I busted up laughing.  It touched the nerd in me, and shot me back to a youth spent playing Nintendo (and watching my brothers and the neighbor play Nintendo). 

It is so nice to be taking joy in the little things again.

And I was pleased to feel that it wasn't just a fleeting thing.  When I climbed into my car the other day I discovered that my CD player had suddenly decided to play twice as fast as normal.  I found amazing joy in hearing SheDaisy sing like the Chipmunks.  I wished someone was with me to share in the moment.  I wanted to laugh with someone.  And then later, at my parents' house, I heard my sister say, "Wait...Is this Later Gater?"  I walked into the living room and saw my family - including my 6-year-old brother - watching the SyFy channel.  They were all totally engrossed.  And the fact that my sister could identify the movie made me smile.  And the evening only got better...My little sister came home from gymnastics and had to get in the shower.  We were all doing our own thing and I suddenly said, "Is that Ginny?"  We listened, and sure enough, Ginny was singing in the shower.  It wasn't one of her usual, tweeny-bopper songs she makes up, but was an operatic scale.  Cat and I looked at each other and laughed.  Topped off by watching Bones with my parents and sister, it was a great day. 

I could feel myself appreciating the little things again.  Which is good, because this morning I had a bizarre phone conversation, and it would have been terribly sad if I hadn't been able to appreciate it. 

Here's a little background information:

-About 2 weeks ago I got a phone call from someone asking me if I was the number for roof repairs.  I said no, and was told some unliscensed roofer had inadvertently put my phone number down instead of his.
-I have been recieving plenty of phone messages since then from people asking if I could fix their roof.
-I kind of feel badly for the roofer, but then I think, He/She put my phone number down...Mayhap it's a good thing that these poor people aren't getting their roofs fixed by him/her.

So here is the conversation I had this morning:
Me: Hello?
Her: Hi.  I am calling to see if you could repair my roof?
Me: Oh, no.  I am so sorry.  I'm not the roof repairer.
Her: No?  Darn.  I really need to get some leaks fixed.  The ad says, "Best prices roof repairs." Is this your number? [says my number]
Me: Yeah, I know...You aren't the first person to call me about this.  But I don't do roof repairs.  Sorry!
Her: Darn it.  I was starting to look forward to having a hot female roofer come to my house.
Me: .....
Her: Really, I would appreciate that more than seeing a man.
Me: tinkling laugh [really, I was just unsure of what to say]
Her: Well, that's disappointing.
Me: Oh, I am sorry about that.  Hey, do you know what company you were trying to call?
Her: It just doesn't say a name.  Sooo...What do you do?  You sound nice.
Me: Uhh...I work with kids.
Her: Well, I have a couple of those.
Me: Oh, neat.
Her: I also have puppies.  Do you work with them?  I can't control them either.  Well, I had puppies but then the puppies had puppies.
Me: [non-comitally] Oh, wow.
Her: [probably picking up on the fact that I was starting to get a little nervous that she would randomly call me back sometime in the future] Well, you probably want to get your phone number taken out of the paper, huh?
Me: Yeah, thanks for the info.
Her: Thank you for sounding so wonderful.  Have a really lovely day.
Me: Thanks!  You too! [hang up]

Yeah...I think I lead a life of fiction.  And, honestly, I love it.

An Un-Love Letter

Dear Guy Outside of Starbucks,

You may think you are really cool, but I have some news for you.  Sitting down at a table already occupied by two girls and announcing your presence by saying, "Okay.  Girl talk.  Let's go." doesn't really endear you to them.  It actually makes them wonder - if only for a moment - whether or not you are gay.

When, after that moment of wonder, they decide you are not, in fact, gay, the annoyance of a jerk disrupting their one-on-one time - of which they get little - begins to set in.  When they sit back in their chairs and cross their arms across their chest while mimicking your mocking tone it is not an invitation to keep talking.  It is a subtle 'girl hint' to move on with your morning.

When you begin to turn the conversation toward evangelizing ("I just got back from church...all condescending because I have a relationship with God?") and your targets inform you of their own relationship with God, and that they do attend church on a regular basis, I don't think that paves the way for the 'pick-up' conversation.  Really.  It is confusing and annoying.

When one of the girls tells you she has a boyfriend and you announce, "I can't talk to you anymore," but then in the next breath tell her about your baby and how beautiful she is and that you make beautiful babies, well, don't follow it with, "You should remember that when your boyfriend dumps you."  Believe it or not, insulting someone is not a way to get them to go out with you.

And when one of the girls calls you out on your lameness, throwing a piece of trash at her and telling her to stop talking does not make you seem less lame.  In fact, I think I can safely say it increases the level of douche-baggery that comes across.

Was it strangely entertaining to talk to you?  Yeah...If "entertaining" means being annoyed by the weird guy who would make an interesting foil to a protagonist in a story.  Sure.  It was strangely entertainng to talk to you.  Do I ever want to see you again?  No.  You give off very untrustworthy vibes: never taking off your sunglasses, talking crap about your ex, that mean, disdainful tone of voice you used.  I appreciate the character inspiration, but apart from that I never need to see you again.

Oh yeah!  One more thing.  Don't pick up a stranger's coffee cup - especially if the stranger is a girl.  It's just creepy, and it ruined a perfectly good cup of coffee.

Sincerely,

Steph

Long Time Gone...

It has certainly been such a long time.  A new post will be coming soon. 

Promise.

Remembering

There is a lot of chaos in my environment right now.  I am sitting in a Starbucks - no surprise there, really - with my headphones in.  Despite the gentle Christmas music I am listening to from my own computer I can hear the piped in music of the coffee shop, as well as the strangely loud conversations of the people around me and the yelling of the barristas to each other. 

Christmas music.  Why Christmas music? 

Aside from the fact that I love Christmas music and listen to it whenever the feeling strikes me, I need Christmas today because I need comfort.  I can't just let the tenth anniversary of September 11 pass by without attempting to make sense of my thoughts.  And my thoughts, in a personal mimicry of the environment around me, are filled with chaos. 

My memories of this time ten years ago are disjointed and filled with emotion.  Grabbing a piece of cheese toast only to be surprised by the phone ringing, followed by the instant shock and fear when I heard my mom say, "WHAT?" sharply, before turning to us and saying, "Dad says to turn on the news.  Right now."

I remember running into the living room and turning on the news, and staring in shock and disbelief at the image of a tower burning and not quite understanding what happened.  Then, as news commentators are discussing the impossibility of the event watching in utter horror as the second plane hit the second tower.

I remember the horror growing as I watched the towers fall - collapse - implode - one after the other.  After being shuffled out the door because, well, we had school that day, I remember the neighbor coming outside and saying, "It's the start of World War 3," and wondering, Is he right? 

I remember the news being on in every class - except Spanish - and the strange, shell-shocked atmosphere of the school, despite being thousands of miles away.  I remember coming home, seeing on TV the devastation that was still, somehow, a shock. 

There are images that have never left; I think about them almost daily:

The people inside the towers who were waving shirts outside the windows, letting rescuers know they were still inside.  As if to say, "Don't forget about us!  We're still stuck!" 

The people who chose to jump, rather than die in the collapse.

The image of the first responders running inside, and then mere moments later being crushed.

The sight of the doctors and nurses who set up the triage stations.

The dust covered people stumbling through the rubble, dazed and shocked.

The Friday after the attacks I remember standing at our high school football game, where the teams ran onto the field together, led by the DP team captain carrying the American flag, and lining up together on the sideline for a moment of silence.  I had never before, or have never since, been in a crowd so large that was able to be so silent.  Even the children were quiet, as if they, too, felt and understood the heaviness of the time.  And during the moment I looked down at the football players, scrambled with each other, creating an accidental red, white, and blue ribbon with their jerseys. 

There are images in my mind that are disturbing.  They make me uncomfortable, sad, angry.  There are some people that say we should just move on.  We shouldn't take time each day to run through our memories.  We need to just go back to normal.  At the risk of sounding harsh, or cruel, I have one thing to say in response:

What an idiotic thing to say.

We can't pretend it never happened - it did.  We can't go back to normal - normal was a time of ignorance, sleepiness, and, going deeper, "normal" killed its Creator.  And if we pretend it never happened, if we take the disturbing images out of our sight, we do a serious disservice to those who died that day ten years ago. 

The people in the towers and surrounding buildings, people who were rushing in because they were running late for work, going to meetings, sitting at desks, emailing, calling...People living their lives just like you and me who left behind grieving family and friends.  We can't pretend they didn't die.  We need to give them the respect, and acknowledgement.

The first responders, those who ran in while everyone else ran out.  Wow.  We need to honor them.  They gave their lives in an act of true love.  Not "love" the noun, "love" the verb.  Not "love" the feeling, but "love" the choice.  No one would blame these men and women for running away.  No one would judge them for not going into a building that would collapse any instant.  But there were people inside who needed saving, and so they went in.  When we try to ignore the fact that this happened we dishonor these brave men and women. 

We can't forget.  We can't push it away. 

Now I believe God was there with the people as they died.  Maybe it's just a way of giving myself some comfort and peace of mind, but I firmly believe the final moment for these people between life and death was, while horrible and unimaginable, also hopeful - God was there with them. 

This doesn't go nearly deep enough.  I could write all day and still not find a way to express everything that I felt then, ten years ago, and that I feel today.  I can't seem to find the right words to express the importance of remembering, and honoring, our fallen brethren and heroes. 

And so, in honor of those who climbed and climbed, only to be brought down, I offer this quote from the poem, "The Final Inspection," a poem about a police officer standing before God.

Step forward now, Officer, you've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's Streets. You've done your time in Hell

May God have mercy on the souls of those lost that day, and may their memories truly be eternal.

In Which I Look At A Song

I'm putting a plug for a facebook friend into this blog.  Forget the fact that we've only met in person once.  I am excited for him.  I am so glad he is following his dream, and since I, myself, am a bit of a dreamer I fully support him.  And will do what I can to help.  And so I am putting a plug for Antony Bitar in here....

I know a few songs about getting butterflies in your stomach but I can honestly say this is one of the best.  Yeah, I can go into how much I love his use of staccato with the piano, or the syncopated rhythm (I do so love variety in my music!).  I can sigh about the whimsy that enters the song with the strings.  I can mention the fact that the melody lends itself nicely to tight harmonies and is perfect for humming along.  I can tell you I think it's awesome that he stayed true to himself during the video process - I was pretty stoked to see that prayer rope on his wrist in the video.  And I can wax poetic about Antony's voice, itself, with its smooth and, strangely, comforting tone.

But I won't.  The reason I think this song is amazing is really because of two lines.  See, songs that talk about getting butterflies tend to be cute, and this son is no exception.  The difference here is that with all the imagery Antony puts into the song - you can easily put yourself in the singer's place - there are two lines that cut through and strike my heart.  It is because these two lines this song is - officially - the top played in my iTunes library...By a lot.  They are, "It's the feeling you get when your eyes first meet, a little glimpse of what it feels like to be complete..." and "...lead you to your destiny and really show you all of me..."

As someone who is very single I can attest to the drive of these concepts.  I know when I see someone who does, in fact, give me butterflies my imagination soars and I create a future.  It's amazing...Suddenly you feel strangely more alive.  Or at least more awake.  As if, suddenly, you are aware of so much more and can feel so much more.  And, let's be honest here, who doesn't long to show all of us to someone?  We want so badly to be able to have that intimacy with one person - one person who will see us and accept us and tell us that maybe, just maybe, we aren't so bad after all.  Mayhap we do deserve the butterflies they give us.  We want to connect - God didn't make us to be alone.  He made us to be with others. 

It's undeniable:  Butterflies are fun.

So, without further ado, please enjoy the song, itself!  Here is "Butterflies," by Antony Bitar:

Double-Decker Sledding Re-discovered

I was going through my pictures on facebook and rediscovered this absolutely, hilariously AMAZING video.  This is what happens when a bunch of kids (read: 2 high schoolers and 3 "adults") from Southern California wind up in the snow.  Amazing-ness happens.

https://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?v=1876116660266&set=t.661655290&type=1

Click the link.  I dare you to.  I promise it's worth it.

Oh!  And all video credit goes to Austin Harris :)

Oops...

Wow...I think I can officially say I failed miserably at my initial attempt at Project 365.  It should have been called Project 7.  It lasted a week.  Neat.

I'm going back and forth here between embarrassment, disappointment, and feelings of "whatever."  Excuses come up quickly: I have a lot going on right now.  I'm tired.  I worked a lot, give me a break!  I have to write reports for work (ugh).  Who said I have to write every, stinking day anyway??

Well...I did.  I set a goal for myself and after a week I failed.  I'm sure there are plenty of reasons why, but one stands out boldly in my mind: I dropped the ball.  It's pretty straightforward, really.  I set out to accomplish something and I just didn't do it.  My path became a bit difficult so I turned and followed another path.  I find myself now staring at my original path with mixed emotions.  I want so badly to turn back and begin walking again, but I am afraid I will fail again, and - even worse -  I am embarrassed that I failed in the first place.  It's easier just to not try, so we don't have to deal with the fallout of failure.

Easier, yes.  Better?  Absolutely not.  The thing that made me get back on the writing horse is this: Grace.  This word has been flitting back and forth in my mind since I realized I had skipped a day of Project 365.

Now, there are many definitions of grace, but I am struck by one: mercy, clemency, pardon...Forgiveness.  If I believe I need to show myself a little grace does it necessarily follow that I need to forgive myself?  I believe the answer is simple: Yes. 

Simple in theory, not in practice.  It is difficult enough to take an honest look in the mirror and say, "I screwed up," whether that screw up is a big deal or a small.  Often we prefer to go along our merry way and avoid any reflection we may pass.  A friend is hurt by us?  Well, we jump to the defensive, and announce the friend is wrong, too - more wrong than I could ever be!  Someone holds up a mirror to us and we avert our gaze.  We hate having to look in the mirror and see the flaws.  We think we are uglier with our flaws and hate to face them.

The thing I am beginning to discover is this: When we face our flaws, our mistakes, and pour the ointment of grace over them, we become lovely.  The scars and hurts don't disappear.  They instead morph into beauty - beauty of experience, wisdom, and most of all forgiveness.

Forgiveness is an act of love.  It's true - whether we like the person or not, forgiveness takes love.  Love the verb, not the noun...Love the choice, not the feeling.  And, as C.S. Lewis says, once we learn to love our neighbor as ourselves we can begin to love ourselves as our neighbor.  This is a concept that is, I think, difficult for most people to understand.  Oh, I think we get it abstractly.  We can analyze and discuss as much as we like, but until we look in the mirror and see our flaws as clearly as we can see the flaws of others we can't give ourselves grace or forgiveness.  And this grace is a choice. 

And so, I am choosing to look in the mirror and realize I am human - with all my mistakes, my flaws, my dropping of the ball.  I am choosing to love myself and show myself a little grace and forgiveness.  And I am beautiful.

It's A Bird! It's A Plane!! It's...Voldemort?

Someone cue the Harry Potter soundtrack...This is crazy.

Voldemort seems to have appeared in the clouds over Canada.  And this man was able to catch it on video.  You have to be a little patient...it doesn't start to really form until about a minute into the video.

And I don't really know why this guy was filming clouds.  I've thought about it and I just can't figure it out.

When Facebook Strikes

I'm totally cheating today, but you know what?  I'm tired.  And I have been sitting in front of my computer for 1 hour and 30 minutes with no more than 2 paragraphs of nothing to show for it.  I think I need to start blogging in the mornings, or something, when I'm not so tired that all I can get out is the phrase, "I'm tired."

So instead of a true post I am going to pass along to you what I have been doing for the last hour and a half:

Stephanie Braun

Another battle with the Writer's Block Beast. Blast.

48 minutes ago · ·

• • Jami Brunner Stetler After that rehearsal? LOL
    

    45 minutes ago ·  ·  You like this.
  • Stephanie Braun That's true...I can just write about what a typical choir practice looks like :)
    

    44 minutes ago ·
  • Jami Brunner Stetler It could be quite entertaining......or not, but it's a thought :) aritculation, pronunciation and Howard's shiny black boots up to his knees over his jeans in the middle of summer -

    42 minutes ago ·  · 1 person
  • Stephanie Braun OMG I almost fell over when he walked in. Haha I can't tell you how much self control it took to keep a straight face.
    

    41 minutes ago ·  · 1 person
  • Jami Brunner Stetler What about the high notes???
    

    40 minutes ago
          Robby Ego Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.
  

              37 minutes ago      1 person
  • Stephanie Braun Fact: Bears eat beats.
    

    37 minutes ago ·
  • Robby Ego What kind of bear is best?

    36 minutes ago ·
  • Stephanie Braun Wrong. Black bear is best.
    

    28 minutes ago ·
  • Stephanie Braun ‎(that may have been a paraphrase)
    

    28 minutes ago ·
  • Robby Ego Hold on, let me consult my huge book of Schrute quotes...hrm. Hrm...no, I don't seem to have one of those. I'm going to have to allow that quote due to a lack of countering evidence, and because really, who cares? You got lucky this time, Braun.
  • 21 minutes ago         You like this.

On Heroes

I just saw Captain America...I know - finally.  You would think a Disney fanatic such as myself would have seen this before.  Somehow I just hadn't gotten around to it.

Now it's no secret I love superhero movies.  What's not to love?  They are action packed.  There's always some sort of romance.  They address pretty solid themes (the classic good vs. evil comes to mind).  The hero is always attractive and has an interesting, and - yes - sexy attitude that makes him just plain irresistible.  So we have discovered, once again, how deep my waters really run. 

Anyway, I was watching Captain America, and thought that while I still love Ryan Reynolds, not only does Chris Evans give him a tough run for his money, but the movie itself was about a trillion times better.  Don't get me wrong: I enjoyed Green Lantern very much.  I know if I watched it right now I would still enjoy it.  But it's like the difference between eating a store bought, packaged cookie as opposed to a warm, homemade cookie.  You enjoy the one you bought at the store, but you'll typically choose the homemade cookie every time.  And while I was considering this and trying to push that strange guilty feeling away (I promise I wasn't saying anything horrible about Ryan Reynolds!) I thought about just what it is that makes superheroes so amazing.  Some people would claim that there is nothing super special about superheroes.  Strip away the suits, cars, weapons, radio-active spiders, kryptonite, etc. and what do you have? these people scoff.  Well, I have an answer: 

The ultimate self sacrifice. 

Superheroes are amazing because they always put "the other" before themselves.  Wow.  Think about it.  In every superhero movie you have seen the hero has at least a small moment in which he or she makes the conscious decision to sacrifice him or herself for the love interest, the city, the nation, the world...It seems this trait is what makes superheroes so gosh-darned special. 

Well, DUH, Steph! you say.  We all know that.  Talk about stating the obvious.

It is obvious - or it should be.  But we tend to view these characters as complete and utter fiction.  Now I know they are.  I realize there is no such person as Steve Rogers/Captain America, Hal Jordan/Green Lantern, Clark Kent/Superman, Bruce Wayne/Batman, Peter Parker/Spider-Man, etc.  As much as I love viewing the world through my fantasy lenses I know there is a difference between daydreams and reality.  My point here is this: we shouldn't be so shocked at the idea of people who are willing to give themselves for someone else when we have the opportunity to witness this everyday.

My older brother has made a conscious decision that if it comes down to it he will lay down his life for someone else.  My younger brother has made the same conscious decision to put his life on the line for another.  I guess they must have something in common...

I know the police, especially in LA right now, get a lot of bad press.  And there is something to that: there are ordinary people on the police force - ordinary people who make good, and bad, decisions everyday.  And, like most ordinary people, they make mistakes and falter and fall.  Yes.  There are true "bad cops" out there.  Unfortunately we shine a light on these ordinary human beings, focusing not on their humanity but in their inhumanity.  We throw up our arms in outrage - how dare the police do these things??  And to a certain extent we should.  It never does to have people in positions of authority using their place for harm.  The trouble is we focus so much on these bad pictures that we forget about the good.  We forget about the men and women who every single day strap on their guns and badges and walk around understanding that if it comes down to it they will make the ultimate sacrifice that day.  How quickly we forget that without these amazing men and women we would be lost, and in serious danger.  We're so quick to judge them, to see them as villains, when in reality when we see those black and white cars we are looking at a true Batmobile.  When we see the blue uniforms we are looking at a real Superman suit.  Every day we see honest-to-God superheroes.

It's interesting...If we villainize cops, I think we can easily say we dumb-down fire fighters.  I do it, too.  I look at a fire truck and don't always see Spidey's webs - the tool to get around town.  When I pass a firehouse I have to admit there are times when I see a calendar, with an attractive guy for each month.  It's horrible!  I can't even begin to count how many times I've heard, or been part of, a conversation that goes something like this:

Well, I was running late but there were fire fighters in the store so it wasn't all bad.
That's the best!  I love looking at those fire fighters.

In our rush to view fire fighters as the golden boys we forget that they are much more important than eye candy.  Every time they receive a call they know they are heading to an emergency.  And while most of the situations may be medical emergencies many of them are not.  Structure fires, accidents, goodness - the hills of Santa Barbara seem to be on fire all the time.  All these situations are dangerous, and the fire fighters not only hold a hose in their hands, but the knowledge that they will risk everything to protect another person.  Everything.  We somehow miss the superhero when we see them.

I see heroes everyday.  I have true heroes in my family.  And I pray everyday that they will be safe.  That the people they protect will not require that sacrifice, because I know my brothers will make it.  I stare at the women who love them in awe - it takes a special, strong, heroic woman to love a man who has made the decision to be a superhero.  I hope the people who cross paths with my brothers will treat them as heroes, rather than villains, or calendar boys.

How can you be sure they are heroes? you may be asking me right now.  Well, it's because I know if they see this they will respond with the same response all the superheroes make: "I'm just doing my job."  And they will - even if they job means laying down their lives for another person. 

God bless the heroes.

I Am Frustrated Tonight...

I'm frustrated tonight.  I am frustrated because I have to work 3 jobs to be able to pay my rent.  I am frustrated because I had to work over 12 hours today.  I am frustrated because I don't have a car.  I am frustrated because my legs hurt from being on them all day.  I am frustrated because so many kids I interacted with today acted entitled and prissy.  I am frustrated because the wings I began making for Timmy were too small and I have to start again.  I am frustrated about being so frustrated that every, little thing becomes even more frustrating to me. 

You may or may not have noticed, but I am feeling a bit frustrated tonight.

I considered writing a rant about how kids these days are too entitled, but then I realized it would go against my only true rule for writing: I will only write things that lift myself, and my readers, up.

In the midst of all this frustration a songs is flitting through my head.  It's a song I know well, and because it is so familiar I find myself ignoring it.  There's nothing new in this song, there's no shock in it.  It isn't even truly a song, but instead a prayer that has been set to music. 

This is the prayer I pray on my way to work in the mornings.  It is the prayer I would pray over the kids as I rubbed their backs to help them go to sleep.  It is the prayer I pray when I am nervous or scared.  It is the prayer I pray when moms cry to me and I don't know what to say.  It is the prayer that without fail comes into my head when I am overwhelmingly frustrated.  The words slowly and gently make themselves known in my head, as if to offer a gentle reminder that being frustrated is not what I really want.  The state of frustration isn't me.  This prayer helps me to make it true.

The Prayer of St. Francis of Assissi
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace:
Where there is hatred, let me sow love
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is darkness, light
Where there is sadness, joy

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console
To be understood, as to understand
To be loved, as to love

For it's in giving that we receive
And it's in pardoning that we are pardoned
And it's in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Trust, Part 1

Last night before I went to bed I decided I would try to begin the task of tackling trust in today's blog.  I sit here now and I just can't seem to find the energy in me to even face the idea. 

So instead I decided to post some pictures - examples of trust in my family.  Just a reminder of what trust, and love, can look like.

The Bend in the Road

Here I am on day two of my Project 365 and I am already faced with a horrible question: What on Earth am I going to write about??
I know on some days there will be PLENTY to write about.  The issue then will be pruning so I don't overwhelm myself.  And I know there will be plenty of dry patches.  Unfortunately, in my effort to beat back the Writer's Block Beast I have begun my project in what feels like the middle of a desert. 

I suppose that isn't quite true.  There's a lot that I am thinking about, I just don't want to beat the dead horse.  Because the thing is, from where I am on this journey through life I can see a bend in the road.  (For those of you have read anything I have written you are probably familiar with my fascination with the Bend...It comes from my extreme love of Anne of Green Gables and, well, any book written by L.M. Montgomery.  Her view of life just makes sense to me.)  For so long I have seen my path stretching out before me.  Yes, there have been little dips to stumble over and hills to climb.  And every day I have found a beautiful flower, bird, view to make the day's walk more pleasant, just as every day I have limped over a pebble in my shoe or a thorn in my foot that makes things a little harder to deal with.  But overall, my path has stretched out before me in a straight line.  There has been frustration because of that - I have felt trapped and caged on the path - but there has also been comfort.

I have known what I will do each day.  I am surrounded by people who love me and who lift me up high enough to keep me basically out of reach of those that will drag me down.  It has been a comfortable place, if not overly exciting, and as much as I have complained about it I find myself wishing it could stay.  There's a big bend in the road coming up and I am not 100% sure about where it will take me.  I won't say now just what the bend looks like; it's too far off and I, myself, am not quite sure.  I do know there is one coming, and while that is exciting and I have moments of wishing it sooner, I also find myself feeling just fine with the distance, and just not quite ready for it.  It's an interesting thing, that bend.  I can't quite describe it. 

And so I think an Anne quote is appropriate here:
"When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla." - Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables, L.M. Montgomery

Musings of Discovery

There's a certain something about the discovery of writing.  It's fascinating.  It's discouraging.  It's enlightening, joyful, draining, beautiful...I can't quite put my finger on it. 

As I go throughout my day I visit with the characters that make themselves known to me.  I look around an see places they might have visited while in Santa Barbara.  I overhear a snippet of conversation, or hear a tone of voice and dialogue immediately races through my head. 

And then I sit down at my computer.  I open up my word document to a new page, fresh with possibility.  Or I open my current story and reread what I have written, hoping to discover more of the people and places.  There's always something new to discover, just like in real life.  Sometimes I hate the discovery - I put one story on hold for two weeks when I realized where it was going.  Sometimes I have a "well, DUH" moment - I text a friend and tell them that I was obviously wrong about this thing and here is the real version.  I have moments of extreme excitement - I have a big smile and have to take a break to dance around the living room.

Regardless of how I feel when I make this discovery, I can't deny the thrill that comes with it.  It's as if I find myself constantly walking through an enchanted forest, pulling back the branches to reveal the light, unsure of whether I will uncover monster or fairy.  And every time something is written, every time I stumble upon another discovery, a part of me is changed forever.  I can't say for certain if it is changed for better or for worse - I am sure in some ways it is both.  All I can say for sure is in that moment things are just a bit clearer.

I suppose C.S. Lewis stated it best when he said, "First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand."

Ode to the Blank Screen

I have had a bad case of Writer's Block lately.  I see it written that way in my head, too.  Capital W.  Capital B.  The blank screen looms in front of me and forces me to type a sentence, which never seems quite right, and is consequently erased.  And so, after dinner with my parents and inspiration from my dad I present: Ode to the Blank Screen.

The little battery icon drains and I can feel my spirit begin to drain with it.

My forehead becomes my battle ram for which to hit

the desk, my computer: the keyboard, the screen

The blankness is enough to make me scream!

I sigh, I cry, I talk to my friends -

I make my way to the refrigerator, AGAIN.

What's up on Facebook?  Is someone on Twitter?

I'm sure there's something on Google that I can look for.

No!  Back to the screen, blank though it may be -

There may be some way to figure out how to make it reflect me.

So I think now I have finally come to

a decision on the 365 Project I'll do:

Thanks to Leaha and, of course, Mama and Dad

Project 365 will include my pen and notepad.

From now for a year, everyday will I write

whether it be in a journal, a notebook, my planner, online.

So please wish me luck to battle the Writer's Block Beast

and to have 365 new pages, at least.