Sock it to me

Oh, and by the way.

92

Which is super relevant to my current life as a cutting edge missionary.
Go on! Let's see YOU remember Belarus and East Timor! Tell me how seconds YOU wasted typing "England" and "America".

this post is for people who want to laugh at me

It's no secret that I love writing, talking, trying (in vain, most often) to express something that I feel, or begin to feel, or barely understand, or am dying to explore. That's probably the reason that I most mess up everything I say or everyone I talk too much to, because I'm talking about things that I have such a slippery grasp on, and I'm coming to realize more about these things as they emerge from my brain in the form of badly worded sentences and disjointed ideas. Sometimes I need to just shut up, but I feel like I'm standing at the edge of an untapped resource, and hearing a whirring in my head, like a drill that wants to break through, but can't until I dive in and give it a shove.
I'm hopelessly dedicated to shoving, until the very last.
Hi. Fellow shovers, make a line and shake my hand. I am the most mindless shover of all.
The worst/best thing about all of this is, I really am just plain and simple. I can be figured out on a calculator. There's nothing to me, really, except the usual stuff.
Until I turn on the mangler and get VERY mangled in the head.
The photo to the left is of a blender, in case you did not notice. Find your own photo by going to Google images and googling words like "chainsaw," "mushy oatmeal," "potato," or any other word that best describes the state of your brain at this moment.

The Prophet

I cannot teach you how to pray in words. God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips.
And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains.
But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart,
And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,
"Our god, who art our winged self, it is thy will in us that willeth.
It is thy desire in us that desireth.
It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also.
We cannot ask thee for aught, for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us:
Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all."

Love Love Love

Making mistakes (and stuff)

So I'm a big mistake-maker and can't help but make all sorts of mistakes all the time. Most bewildering are those mistakes that I make that I can't help but recall having made before--over and over. I guess that's what it takes, sometimes.
I'm not talking about spilling the milk or coming to devotions at the wrong time because your home manager forgot to tell you about the change. I'm talking about the sort of mistakes that...well...
The kind that are the most difficult to deal with because there's no real, concrete way to let people you're sorry. Mostly because there comes a time when trying so hard to convince people that you meant well becomes nothing but a selfish endeavor to fix the situation, and people are tired of listening to you.
The kind that can't ever be mended, can't even be emotionally tended to in the right way, because everyone's emotions are different, and there's no way to know exactly how to make someone love you again; and the only reason you can't stand to let them love you in their own time is because you can't stand to wait around with the knowledge that you are a sinner, and they know it.
The kind that create sort of a hole in your heart that you know you'll just need to keep trusting the Lord to fill from now on.
The kind that are good to look at, learn from, and hand over to the Lord--even if he wants to mount them on the wall for everyone to look at, it's because he sees them as the worthiest trophies that you ever won in your life.

As long as you are really desiring to do your best for Jesus, your successes will always be greater than your failures.

The Tissue Test

<---Exhibit A
Exhibit B --->

The BIG Question:
When a suffering cold-victim requests TISSUE, you bring...
1) Exhibit A
2) Exhibit B

You Honored Me

You honored me
When you invited me to your room to sit and talk awhile
You honored me
When you let your hair down and relaxed
You honored me
When you poured some wine and took the safety lock off your heart
You honored me
When you told me things you had securely tucked away inside
And you honored me
When you trusted me that I would safely keep those things.
You honored me
By being yourself
And letting me catch a glimpse into your heart
You honored me
With your openness and honesty
You honored me
With the real you, as you are, faults and all.
I knew you had faults. I have them in abundance.
But I felt honored,
That you allowed me into your life
Just as you are
You honored me
By letting me touch
If even in a small way
Your soul;
The soul of someone who has given themselves
Willingly and wholeheartedly to our Savior
You honored me
When I kissed you
And you helped me, in whatever small way
To feel Jesus' love in another human being
And I was deeply honored
To be given the priceless gift of communion;
Two souls,
Without false fronts,
Cover-ups,
Guarded hearts,
And nothing to hide,
There, on the seashore of eternity.

Thank you.

--R.F.M. 2008

Heavy thoughts about pens

<--Image of hi-tech-c pens to give joy to the hi-tech-c lovers (hi Marie)

It's funny how, with all the convenience of computers--the dreadful simplicity of having neatly arranged documents and little blips on a flash disk, there is something about writing with the trusty hand that still is the cats pajamas.
It's those pen-people that make pen and paper so much fun.
The people that can actually seriously rejoice when they see you holding a pen that they deem "a good pen". The people that actually like you THAT much more when you have "good pen taste". The people whose pens look so ordinary, but who can actually tell you which pen is for what purpose and where they acquired it and for how much (usually a pretty nutty sum) and why they like the particular thickness/thinness of that pen and what its brand is and how surprised they were that that brand came up with a good pen.
This post is in honor of the pen-people. You know who you are.

I dip my pen in the blackest ink, because I'm not afraid of falling into my inkpot. --Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have fears that I may cease to be before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain. --John Keats

Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen?--Friedrich Nietzsche

I bought a seven dollar pen because I always lose pens and got sick of not caring. --Mitch Hedberg

The pen is mightier than the sword, and considerably easier to write with. --Marty Feldman

the one where florence can't post a photo without writing whole paragraphs about it

It's time, ladies and gentlemen, for a photo of Florence frolicking in the snow. I never thought I would do this, mostly because--photos of a frolicking Florence are never a super duper good idea, and because I don't get very much snow. I used to never ever get snow until I moved to Chiba, and this year we got a surprising amount of snow (it snowed a whole two times!!)
This is a photo of when I rushed (prematurely) out into the snow because I was so happy that it was snowing and wanted to catch it before it died off and melted, and it actually snowed for the whole rest of the day and became quite problematic even (yay)! I even had a fun fun mishap climbing up the hill to Bayside wearing shoes with zero grip, getting my clothes all wet all over and being laughed at by Uncle Michael.
I realize I could've taken one of those typical photos of me reaching my hands out and looking to the sky as if in reverence of the snow, or God or something. Or! One of those shots with my tongue sticking out as if to lap it all up hungrily. But I wasn't worthy of those poses and decided to just burn free in the middle of the park instead. This is actually one of those photos that gets taken "between" photos...like...where I strike a pose and go "HERE! Take a photo!" and then five seconds later decide to "come down" from my pose and go into another pose...and that little limbo there is where the photo is taken. Brilliant. In any case, here is my half-smile half-pose, in all it's glory:

The Happy Hello and A Fond Farewell

The Happy Hello:
Hello Flo! I was so happy to see you pogo-ing about at the dance the other day! And I really enjoyed our quicky hug. But then I missed you. I want to buy you shirokuma ice-cream and pilfer most of it and hang out in your teeny tiny room and read all your random notes on your walls and hear all your latest scandals.

The Fond Farewell:
I had some weighty mixed feelings about coming here and finding I was finally officially evicted from this site.
I know. It's because I haven't posted on it in many moons.
That's because I have a (not-so) new (not-so) secret blog where I don't post either. Fancy that!
But still. It made the mental part of my sentimentality smart a little.
It's ok. I'm moving on. I'm even going to make a support group and website all about it. (Jaykay. Nothing to see here. Move along kids.)
Then I put something up for you that I thought you might like. Go see it--> !!!
Love you, Dear.
I was an unfaithful co-author, but I remain your most faithful reader.
And in my heart and in my mouth
I am still crooked.


And I can still stealthily read your drafts...!! Perk perk!

no point

When a lie I told or a secret I kept hidden is revealed and hurts others
When I make a mistake and lose the trust of people I love
When people ask me "Why would you do that?" "How could you do that to me?"
And I have nothing to say but "I don't know," and there's no point saying it

When I reap the consequences of a bad decision I made, something that
Seemed so smart at the time, like the best thing to do to preserve my pride
When others discover that I'm the sort of person I would never be able to forgive
And when they had trusted me too much to forgive me too easily

When I mess up trying to explain myself because I realize halfway through
That I actually am damnedly in love with you and just don't want you to know it
And I sound like such a fool because I don't want to lie to you anymore
But there's no point saying anything--and I can't seem to stop trying

When I'm sitting here all wasted and there's no point trying to turn back
The clock, or put the liquor back into the bottle--and I realize what a mess I've made
And still am making, and always will make. And the floor feels so cold
And the air feels so condemning, and I say "I'm sorry" and the toilet echoes back

When I cross the line and realize it a second too late
And could've sworn that there was no line a second ago, and I made another one of those
Mistakes that are meant to be made and cannot be prevented. And I kick myself
Because somehow I feel like I should've been made an exception because I was so careful

When I realize that, even though I really do so little, I just can't do more
And I was meant to be weak, created to trip over these small duties and
Knot up these tasks that other people can manage so effortlessly
And all I can really do is let myself trust that the hit-and-miss is all strategic to Someone

When the first thing I want to do is give up and fall into a hole to be forgotten
I give up and fall into You.

Heavy thoughts about brushing teeth

Tooth brushing is so interesting. Probably someone could make up a whole new system of personalities by categorizing the way people brush their teeth. Like sunsigns: "Your toothbrushing personality is RACOON which means that you really like playing in the sandbox and writing to-do lists and you are compatible with the TAPIR toothbrush personality..."
I am definitely one of those whole-hearted toothbrushers who likes a mouthful of bubbles and brushes vigorously up down and around and wayyyy back (and gags). Then there are the lazy kind who sort of brush while they talk, with a mouth almost entirely devoid of toothpaste; who like to be able to look in the mirror and see the progress they're making without all that white foamy stuff obscuring their vision. Then there are the kind that brush in stages and re-toothpaste their toothbrush several times, like a "shampoo" and "conditioner".
One thing I am NOT is a swallower. There are some (I really don't know how many, statistically, but I hope it's very few) people (mostly the "recreational toothbrusher" sort, who like to space their toothbrushing over a larger span of time and multitask whilst they scrub) who can actually be brushing their teeth, have you ask them a question, and swallow, and answer. That really amazes me. That must say something for a love life of sorts. Or maybe it says something for a SHORT life since the Life with Grandpa will tell you that toothpaste is poison and ought never to be swallowed. But who am I to say. I'm no Doctor Koger, just your average toothbrusher. (Wouldn't it technically be a teethbrush? I don't know anyone who uses a toothbrush on just one tooth. Wouldn't that actually be pretty difficult? Then again what do I know. Maybe my teeth are just small...which does not explain why they are too big for my mouth and had to grow in mashing into each other for lack of space. Maybe my MOUTH is small, which is possibly something that I ought to factor in to the love-life of my toothbrushing personality.)