Why a Deer?

"As the deer longs for the streams of water, so I long for you, O God. 

I thirst for God, the living God." 

Psalm 41:1-2, NLT

I go to one of those rare churches that sings hymns every Sunday. I love it. But a wonderful praise and worship sesh quickly becomes comedic when "As the Deer" is one of the hymns we sing. The begins like this:

"As the deer panteth for the water, so my soul longeth after Thee.

You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship Thee."

My dad has his own version of this song. The lyrics only change a little.

"As the deer panteth for the water BANG!" Complete with hand motions. 

That was my funny story to get your attention. Now I am going to get serious; my original purpose of all this.

Why a deer?

Every living creature needs water to survive. Every living creature longs for water and searches for water. So why does this passage point directly to a deer?

I do not know. But maybe one of the reasons was so that I could understand myself, and God, a little better on this very night.

Another story: A couple months ago my dad shot a big deer! We tracked the deer through the dark woods behind our house for almost four hours. It was a good hit; we found a lot of blood. The deer ran straight for the swamp and stayed there, stumbling around and breaking branches everywhere.

The deer ran straight for the swamp.

Not to get too graphic on ya, but there was a lot of blood. This deer was very, very injured. And he went to the water.

That is a beautiful picture. Water is not the most secure place to be, even for a deer. It is cold and dangerous. Yet in water, the deer can be made clean. And has a chance to survive if the shot was just a little bit off.

So maybe in Psalm 42, the deer is not just a thirsty deer. Maybe that is a hurt deer. A deer longing to be made new. To find security the only place it knows to.


I feel lost. I seriously long to feel God's presence right now.

I am that wounded deer. I am looking for the water so desperately.

I thirst for God.

I Just Can't Belize It.

My next blog will answer the famous question, "Why did you decide to go to Belize, anyway?" But for now, the thrilling tale of how I got there.

Note: If at any point while reading this post, you begin to worry about my safety, you must stop reading. Worrying is not allowed. I only tell the truth so you can know.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

It is 3:45 in the morning. Jamie and I are sitting on the curb outside our current residence in Guatemala waiting for the shuttle to pick me up. I am so tired that I cannot grasp the idea of what is about to take place.

A little after four the shuttle comes. As we leave Antigua the truth sets in. I am on a bus. I know no one. I really have no idea what I am about to do, but I know my ultimate destination is Belize. The anticipation of taking a trip with this group of strangers is quickly settled because they are all dropped off at the airport in Guatemala City. I am still in a bus. I am not completely alone, as I have two men with me who are in charge of driving the shuttle and (hopefully) getting me on the bus headed to Puerto Barrios. After I arrive in Puerto Barrios all I have to do is take a ferry to Punta Gorda and then I am in Belize. Sounds simple enough.

Sure enough, one of the men helps me buy my ticket and then I am left to wait for the bus. I honestly don't know why I am surprised that I am literally the only white person around. I get on that bus and there is legitimately not another white person. A whole charter bus of travelers and they all are Guatemalan. Okay. No big deal. It's just a little funny to me.

The bus ride is pretty uneventful. I sleep most of the time but do catch glimpses of Guatemala as it zooms past. Beyond that, the only notable fact was how liberal the lady next to me was with her elbows. Turns out this type of action while I am trying to sleep irritates me. I eat a pack of my favorite Guatemalan cookies. I also tell myself that this was a stupid idea. I arrive in Puerto Barrios around one pm. I must find the ferry. I am so cheap that I do not want to pay a taxi, so I decide to walk. I am also too prideful to ask for directions (also a little intimidated because Spanish but I won't downplay the major part my pride played in my decisions today) so I decided to just walk toward the water and hope for the best.

After a couple blocks the water is still in sight but I am literally surrounded by cargo trucks filled with bananas. Dole and Chiquita everywhere. It is at this exact point that I realize my dad would kill me if he knew what I was doing. I get to the water but it is just loading and unloading for the bananas. I head down a random street that I see some traffic at the end of. I figure it's time to suck it up and get a taxi to take me to the harbor. Even when I arrive at the busy street I am not quite done letting my pride rule the day, so I head towards the water, but at a different point, once more. I walk past stores and get into a neighborhood and the little voice in my head tells me it's time to turn around. It also tells me I should have been mugged like ten minutes ago. So I walk past all those people and stores again. They for sure know I am lost now. Easy target. I'm on edge. It starts raining. Once again I tell myself how stupid I am.

Using my awesome sense of direction and pure luck, I arrive at the bus station again. There are a lot of taxis but they are all empty of drivers A man in a booth asks me if I need a taxi and I am saved. I ask the way to the ferries and he says he will take me. Of all the taxis there, we get into an unmarked one. At least I am aware of these types of things. It shows how smart I am. Smart or not, I get in. He really is a nice guy, though, because first he takes me to immigration and he waits for me there. Once we get to the harbor he even helps me find the right ferry and makes sure I get a ticket. Thank the Lord for that over-friendly taxi driver.

Little did I know that over-friendly strangers are the only way I would make it through the next two days.

I have to wait over an hour before my ferry leaves because I just missed one (if I hadn't wandered pridefully I would have made it(I am so glad I missed the ferry)), but that's not even the biggest hitch. If this was any normal day, my ferry would leave for Punta Gorda at 3:30 pm, the last ferry to head from Puerto Barrios to P.G for the day. But today is not an ordinary day, of course. Not for me; not for anyone. So this ferry has a special group to pick up in Livingston, Guatemala the next day to take to P.G. I have a choice: I can stay the night in Puerto Barrios and catch the first ferry to P.G. at 6:30 am or I can go to Livingston with this ferry driver, stay the night there, and get a ride to P.G. at 8 am. Memo the ferry operator says it's cheaper to stay in Livingston and that is enough to make up my mind considering some hidden expenses that threw my cash calculations off. So I'm off with Memo and his assistant, Duetan, both from Belize, and a Guatemalan who lives in Belize. When we arrive in Livingston, Memo points me to the nicest hotel. Of course, I have to ask for the cheapest hotel, so he takes me to the one he always stays at. Hotel Caribe cost me $4.66 to stay for the night. After I pay, the owner hands me a key, a roll of toilet paper, and a tiny bar of soap. I have my own room with two twin beds and I share a bathroom with everyone else who chose to have the shared bathroom.

As we walked to the hotel, I learned how lucky I am to stay the night in Livingston. Tonight all of Livingston is celebrating the day that their ancestors landed in Guatemala, Belize, and Honduras. FIESTA ALL NIGHT! Oh please. I woke up at 3:30 this morning. Ha. After settling in at the hotel, Duetan says he is going to check out the festivities so I invite myself along. I figure it is better to be with a stranger than alone.

We walk all over the town and he tells me about the history of the Garifuna. This includes the language he speaks fluently and he tells me how kids are starting to only learn Spanish so it is dying out. This was an amazing cultural experience and lesson. He also informed me about how I should have gotten robbed with the way I was wandering around Puerto Barrios. I was basically randomly laughing like a fool throughout the whole walk because I could not believe how amazing and crazy my life is. Me being here was a fluke!

God's plan are so much greater than ours.

And I'm not even done yet.

We get back to the hotel around 5:30 and I figure it is a good idea to find out if there is internet in this town because literally no one has any idea where I am and no one has heard from me since at least 2:30 in the morning. We go to an internet cafe so the people I left in Antigua and some people in the states can know where I am and that I am, dare I say, safe.

I sit on the curb outside of the internet cafe as Duetan finishes up. I am literally still laughing out loud because I cannot believe my life. That is when a friendly young man decided to make my acquaintance. His name is Cly (which sounds like it came straight from The Hunger Games) and we chat about how I like Livingston and the celebration. We talked about how I ended up there for such a short amount of time and he even taught me to say some things in Garifuna ("How are you?" sounds a lot like hubbumadub, a word I just made up.). Cly was really friendly and nice. It was cool to make a friend like that because as I was preparing to set out on this adventure alone everyone back in Antigua said I would be fine because I would make friends. I never would have imagined how that actually turned out!

Everywhere I went, God gave me a friend.

We are not meant to do life alone.

The rest of the night consisted of writing all this and what I like to call "movie night" which means I sat on my bed staring at the wall, eating Fritos and drinking water.


Thursday, November 27, 2014

Memo said we leave at 8 and to be on the dock at 7:30. When I get there it is raining and a man is sewing the boat cover. It is obvious that we will not be leaving by 8. The man sewing Memo's boat back together let's me sit in his boat because it is a little more dry. For all I know I sat there in the rain for hours, but it was probably more like 45 minutes. Memo comes and even gives me his coffee so I know we are friends. It is still raining, but mostly just spitting, which is worse than torrential downpour. I am wet and freezing. This is around the 11th time I tell myself how stupid I am, then laugh because my life is awesome. I consider peeing my pants for warmth.

The group gets on board and they sure are a fun lot! We put on life jackets and cover ourselves with sheets of plastic. Come to find out, it's not just for the rain. If I thought I was wet before I had no idea what was coming.

We are in a ferry zooming across the ocean. At first I see land but then it disappears. I am already curled in the fetal position for warmth. Then, between the waves that we jump over and the angle of the boat, I slide down the bench so far that I end up cuddled into the armpit of this large, Belizean man next to me. I can't really complain because he is warm. We make small talk.

We cross a channel and the air becomes at least 20 degrees warmer. I hand off my portion of the plastic. It was only behind us anyway and most of the water came from the front so I am pretty wet already. The ocean spray is warm and so is the breeze. I am so, so happy. Once again, I am laughing and making myself to look like a fool.

I HAVE SUCEEDED. 

I AM IN BELIZE. 

Now what to do...

Memo never fails me. He points me to his office and says he has maps there for after I go through immigration. Luckily, I only get charged to leave countries, so entering Belize is free. Customs asks me why I am coming to Belize. I say vacation.

Do I look like I am on vacation? No. I look like a recently bathed cat.

When Memo arrives he goes over some of the options for me, different places I can go, hotels in P.G., which is a pretty small town. My brain keeps dead-ending so Memo says we need food. I don't have any Belizean dollars yet, so he buys. Bless his heart.

Duetan and I chill on the porch and I meet some of their friends. I decide to set up camp in P.G. for the next couple days. I stay at the cheaper hotel in town and one of the friends offers to give me a ride there because he is going that direction. Well, strangers have not failed me yet and I am probably getting a little too liberal with my yes, so I accept.

The hotel is called Nature's Way (doesn't that make you want to stay?) and it costs $11.50 a night. There is even wifi so I can video-chat my family on Thanksgiving! And that is where I sit as I write this blog, in a flurry (not the type that are in Michigan or at DQ), while the experiences are still fresh.

I am exhausted, but the excitement and adrenaline prevents me from sleeping. What is my life?
On this Thanksgiving, I have become a whole different kind of thankful.

I am thankful for God's protection over my life, for His presence in everything for everyone to see.

I am thankful that my whole entire family is together in Michigan.
I am thankful for friends that support me.

I am very thankful for strangers.

Peace. Forever.


P.S. Forgive me, Dad.

Pep Boys

I have been meaning to tell this story for awhile because I know there are lots of people who will enjoy it. Time got the best of me and now we will see if I remember the details clearly.

Who knows the date, and who cares. It is irrelevant. We wake up and our cruise ship is at the port in Tampa. It is a bittersweet arrival. We have a long drive, so we choose to carry all of our luggage off the ship ourselves because it will get us through customs quicker. This is quite the task since Mom is on crutches, making her arms altogether useless for carrying all but one of her four pieces of luggage. Despite this, we make it off the ship without much ado, save for Bog being forced to take an elevator or two. 

The real action begins once we hit the road. 

We are all tired, sad, but excited to be on our way back to our own beds. 

Right away we notice that something is a little off with the car. No need trying to figure out whose idea it was or who pressured who, but either way Dad pulls the car over and turns it off. Naturally it won’t start back up. He opens the hood, looks around, and all hope is lost. But hope is quickly restored THANK THE GOOD LORD because within five minutes a tow truck drives by, sees the sad look in our discouraged eyes, and pulls over to save the day. He will tow our Dodge Journey to Pep Boys. My dad is a fan of Pep Boys and says they always work hard. Things are going as well as we can expect. 

After cash is exchanged Mr. Towtruckdriver puts two and two together and informs us of a Florida law that prevent us from riding in our car on the tow truck (while this is a bummer, I did not even ask because it would be a tad nonsensical and unlike the government to let us do something so thrilling and fun) and that his cab, once he clears his garbage out of the way, only holds two other passengers. There are five of us and as I stated, my mother is on crutches. Free pass to tow truck ride. That leaves Dad, Bog, Chenae, and I. Dad asks Chenae if she would like to ride. She accepts. Mr. Towtruckdriver offers to call us a cab. We decline. Thanks, but we will figure it out. We all know what we will be doing.

Tow truck driver told us that it was four miles away. Piece of cake. None of us are dressed to run. My dad is in nice shorts and my sister and I are wearing sandals. We start walking, taking the closest on-ramp backwards. Next is a short-cut through a crusty clay pit. I find the wet clay and come very close to being covered in clay for the next two days. Luckily, I was trained by ninjas so I recovered my footing in the nick of time.  

It only take three blocks of this morning Florida heat to get my dad’s shirt off. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt because we are moving at quite the clip. To give you a better idea of how we look at this point, we are power-walking down the sidewalk of a highway that goes through a busy part of Tampa. We currently move in a single-file line, my father, me, then Bog taking selfies. My father’s shirt is already off and I am quick to follow suit. It is hot, I am as confident as a lion, and I reason that I will never see any of these people again. To my surprise, my sister crumbles under the pressure. While my tan family members simply hold their shirts, I fasten mine across to lower back to prevent my pale nether-backs from the unforgiving sun. 

So there we are. Obviously we are tourists, walking though a district called Habana, without shirts and appearing to have a goal in mind. This is the part where you can picture it and laugh hysterically.

We need sustenance. It is nearing the time for elevenses. Luckily, along the horizon, we saw a CVS. We bought Gatorade and the Cuban cashier gave us the special discount, probably because I wowed him with a thrilling rendition of “Represent Cuba.” Also, I asked him for directions to the nearest Pep Boys because we were wondering if the tow truck driver lied to us because we felt like we had walked ten miles. Still two miles to Pep Boys.

As we exit the store we remove our shirts because it is high noon and the sun is blistering hot. A tumbleweed blows across the 4 lane highway. We ravenously down our gatorade. But really that was just me. Everyone else drinks at a normal rate. Freaks.

By now we are so desperate to arrive that we run more than walk. I have fallen behind because I have the shortest legs (also I am the laziest, I think). 

Is that Pep Boys up ahead or a mirage caused by dehydration? Oh. Twas a mirage. 

Finally we see the real Pep Boys. Dad gets so excited for the air conditioning that he abandons Bog and I and goes Frogger-style to cross the highway. Bog and I only caused three accidents as we crossed. 

Everyone around Pep Boys thinks we are crazy, and maybe we are. 

Color Me Angry.

Watch the whole video then read my words OR close this page.
Or just watch the video for the heck of it.
But DO NOT just read this post.

Thank you.

Follow this link and watch the video. Feel free to read that article as well, but I'm talking about something else.

Disclaimer: PEOPLE IN THIS VIDEO SWEAR. So some of the following quotes also have swear words. 

"No human should be treated the way that this human was treated."

"The fact that anybody could have this amount of hatred to his own flesh and blood..."

"I believe in the word of God."

"We will not support you any longer."

"I will not let people believe that I condone what you do."

"If your religion makes you feel righteous in kicking your own child out of the house over something that they have no control over then I don't need book to tell me that's wrong."

"You son of a bitch."

"You're a damn queer, you fucking shit."

"Listen to the hate and anger in those people's voices. Is that really what God wants?"

"My initial reaction is such anger towards this. I just wanna go fix it."

"Don't let people like this make you  afraid to be who you are."

"I hope they realize how ridiculous they are."

This video infuriates me and it has nothing to do with the LGBTQ/Christianity conflict. So drop that bomb out of your mind and do not come to me with your opinion on that.

What ticks me right off is that I no longer want to admit to being a Christian. Christians are jerks. and judgmental. And cold and unapproachable. At least that is what a huge population believes. I was first confronted by people with this thought when I spent a semester in Guatemala during college. When I said I was a Christian I was automatically put into a box. Most of the qualities and characteristics they assumed were not true to me.

I do not want to be known as a person who hates gay and lesbians. Or thinks that abortion should be illegal. I do not want people to think that I never cuss or consume alcohol or lie. From my experiences, when a person thinks those things to be true of you, a relationship is limited, quenched, shut down. That is not what Jesus was about. I want people to get to know me and see love.

The man who posted this vlog is angry at the people who completely reject their own son. He says he wants to fix it. He points out that these Christians make people afraid to be themselves and that they are ridiculous. I think he is right. I am ticked at those Christians as well.

I am ticked that so many people claim the name of Christ, who was PERFECT, and slander it by doing garbage like this. Take this ugly, broken lifestyle of intolerance and hatred that you call Christianity and get out of my face.

So let's give the act of following Christ a new name. And while we are at it, a new face. Sure, we do not know everything about Jesus and what he did, but we have some of it. Read the gospels. Read about what Jesus did. Pray. Love people.

Listen.

Full Hillbilly

I really hope that I can describe this and it will be as funny as it was in real life.

I was about to go to bed last night when my dad calls to me from the next room. I walk over to see him staring out the window, with his binoculars no less, watching some rodents eat the pile of deer feed he had just put out. “Those stinking varmint are always trying to ruin our lives ya know, eating all the food so the deer don’t come around. Ridiculous.” We obviously cannot let the raccoon or woodchuck or whatever it is continue its midnight feast. Events take a drastic turn.

Next thing I know my dad is slowly, quietly, opening the back door, gun in hand. Now don’t forget that it is bedtime, so my dad and I are both in our sleeping apparel. MY DAD IS HOLDING A GUN AND IN HIS BOXERS. This alone is hilarious.

We are whispering back and forth about the game plan. My mom is snoring in her bed not 20 feet away. This is the peak of my week. He shoots. Unidentified mammal runs from feed bucket to safety behind barn. Dad lowers the gun. Suddenly a second, smaller animal runs form the bucket as well! Panic ensues! Shots are fired. Said animal falters. Is it dead? No. It runs away before my dad makes the fatal shot.

Since we are professionals in the department of nighttimeanimalslaying,  we know that it is time to take a sit break and watch a little bit of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. Next commercial break we resume our previous activities. The same way that a criminal always returns to the scene of a crime, one of those stinkin rodents is back on the feed pile. We wait for its head to be in the feed bucket so that it can’t see us open the door. More shots are fired. The thing gets away. Obviously, the bad lighting and moving target are to blame. Another sit break is needed.

At this point Dad and I are getting tired, but there are too many unanswered questions. He definitely hit the animal in question. Did the animal get away or is it dead behind the barn? Where is the second rodent? How much corn did they eat? Is Papa’s Pizzas and Grinders still open? We knew that we had to send out the search party.

Naturally, we are the search party. After a mishap with some crappy batteries, we head outside with the floodlight as our only guide. Still in our skivvies, we assess the area from the feed bucket to the barn. The floodlight only floods light for so far, so we are working with some serious shadows. There appears to be the dark glimmer of blood. More light is needed. After some confusion with a battery-powered drill, I have the flashlight and Dad still has the gun. We are ready for anything.

It was definitely blood. We begin to follow the blood trail. I feel like I have been pretty descriptive throughout this story, but I am going to reiterate what exactly is happening at this point just to make sure you are following. My father is in boxers and is holding a loaded rifle. I am in tiny shorts and an oversized tee hunched over the ground with a flashlight. It is a chilly night. We aren’t even risking our nipples for a prized buck. IT IS A RACCOON.

No sign of the raccoon. The wind picks up. I had planned to go to bed hours ago. It is time to call this search off.

Until next time, caballeros. 

Vulnerable

This post is from months ago and is still incomplete, but it is some important stuff to me so I am posting it as is. Maybe I will finish it some day. Such is life.

Everyone can admit that Frozen was a dang good movie. I laughed, I cried and I was inspired. I saw it twice, half as many times all of the 20 year-old males that were polled. There are so many awesome things about this movie that I could talk about, but we all already know them so I will jump to the point. While Idina Menzel's song is a bit rebellious and a tad sinister-sounding, it is inspiring, nonetheless. At a young age Idina Menzel's character, Elsa, had to be something she was not. Her parents encouraged and taught her to hide her most unique quality because, through it, danger had come to her sister. She locks herself in her room and cuts herself off from her best friend, her sister.

Well, cool. Everyone is happy, right? Uh, no. When Else loses control in front of everyone and they realize there is something wrong with her, she flees into the mountains and Arendelle, the beautiful land of eternal summer, becomes a terrible, endless winter suckland. As Elsa climbs the mountain, she sings this beautiful number about being herself. I am just going to give you all the lyrics because they are so dang good.

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight,

Not a footprint to be seen.

A kingdom of isolation

and it looks like I'm the queen.

The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside

Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I tried.

Don't let them in, don't let them see.

Be the good girl you always have to be.

Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know.

Well, now they know.

Let it go, let it go.

Can't hold it back anymore.

Let it go, let it go.

Turn away and slam the door.

I don't care what they're going to say.

Let the storm rage on.

The cold never bothered me anyway.

It's funny how some distsance

makes everything seem small

and the fears that once controlled me

can't get to me at all.

It's time to see what I can do,

to test the limits and break through.

No right, no wrong, no rules for me.

I'm free.

Let it go, Let it go.

I am one with the wind and sky.

Let it go, let it go.

You'll never see my cry.

Here I stand and here I'll stay

Let the storm rage on.

My power flurries through the air into the ground.

My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around

and one thought crystallizes like an icy blast.

I'm never going back.

The past is in the past.

Let it go, let it go

and I'll rise like the break of dawn.

Let it go, let it go.

That perfect girl is gone.

Here I stand

in the light of day.

Let the storm rage on.

The cold never bothered me anyway.

For the purpose of my post you are going to have to look past the humanism, pantheism, and rebellious spirit that is turning you off from this song. Otherwise you will completely miss my point, and that is a waste of everyone's time.

Being honest about who we are, specifically our faults, is probably the most terrifying thing in the world. No one likes to be vulnerable. It's so scary.

At a group discussion we were asked some pretty powerful questions that got me thinking about this even more.

to find the light of new hope

I cannot even tell you what I have felt this winter season. What I can tell you is that it has been one of the hardest seasons of my life, although I am not sure as I can tell you why. But I have struggled like no other winter ever.

A couple Sundays ago I shared with a prayer group that I was legitimately having a spiritual battle due to the weather. I know that seems dramatic and drastic, but I strongly feel that way! My spirit has felt crushed ever since snow started covering the poor, defenseless grass. I am trying to move past this bitterness, as the cold and wind is doing enough today to make me bitter.

This past Sunday I had better news to share with my prayer group. Over the past couple weeks, God has been softening my heart to the weather. Again, I am sure I sound a bit ridiculous, but this has been a very real struggle for me (maybe I am starting to explore the idea that I am projecting other life struggles onto the snow, but I have not gotten far with that). 

Sometimes the snow slowly falls to the ground and there is no wind. That's beautiful.

After a fresh snowfall the fields and yards are flawless. That's beautiful.

And God still gives me exquisite sunsets every once in a while. That's so beautiful.

Not only did God give me these wonderful examples of beauty, but it happened at church too. We walked in and no one was there but a video was playing of a man who would alternatively sing and preach. After some time a song came on just for me. Since my Spanish is less than superb,  I am sure I translated it wrong, but God wanted me to hear this message from it:

This winter has been way harder than I can ever say

I have not seen spring in forever, dangit

Where on earth is the sun

My heart is super cloudy and my soul is basically dying over here

(this is where is gets really good)

I yearn for the sun to come out and shine

Shine bright from the heavens

and get rid of the frost that has been killing my heart

Then, as the pastor was praying, she mentioned that the winter might be hard for a lot of us, but that we might keep following. I love these little reinforcements.

I still yearn for better weather and I do not like having to wear so many clothes, but I am happy that I am able to find peace in this season. I praise the Lord for that.

He gives more grace.

And peace.

In case you really love Spanish, here are the full lyrics.

Jesús Adrián Romero - Brilla

Este invierno se extendió más de la cuenta 

hace tiempo que no veo la primavera. 

Hace mucho que no brilla el sol con fuerza 

se nublo mi corazón sin darme cuenta. 

Y añoro la mañana cuando el sol saldrá 

cuando brillara. 

Brilla, desde el cielo luz de vida, brilla 

Ven a deshacer la escarcha que 

este invierno me dejo este frio abrazador, ven. 

Duele el frío que ha dejado en mí tu ausencia, 

duele el aire al respirar, sin tu presencia. 

Ya mi aceite se acabó sin darme cuenta 

mi lámpara se apaga en la tormenta. 

Y añoro la mañana cuando el sol saldrá 

cuando brillara. 

Brilla, desde el cielo luz de vida, brilla 

Ven a deshacer la escarcha que 

este invierno me dejo este frio abrazador, ven

Sun and Wind.

There were two times today that took my breath away. This was so special to me because it has not happened in so long. I had felt like I had lost my delight in nature, but it was restored. I was walking to work at about 5:52 pm. I turned a corner and...the sunset. I have seen many like it and many more beautiful, but this one was made for me to see. I had to stop. And when I was done stopping I took a picture because it was the reasonable thing to do. 

So my heart cracked a little in that moment. But it cracked in a good way. Winter had frozen it. And that sunset began the thaw.

I got to work in the stinkin' Cougar Den (on campus foodplace) only to discover that my Sunday shift was removed! Don't worry, I have been trying to drop that shift  since I picked it up. I was not even mad that I had walked all the way to campus for no reason (as we all know, there was secretly a reason).

I begin the trek back home and I basically have a skip in my step. That stops real quick when I encounter TORNADO SPEED WINDS. AND IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. It felt like real, full life was hitting me in the face. I was being filled by the most bitter and awakening wind of this epoch.

And there I was. 

Full.