Monday, January 19, 2009

In like a Lion...

With January, blew in the new year, a cold front of massive proportions, new classes, some new faces, some old faces gone, a new president, and a partially new out look on life.

As I sit here, it snows outside. It's been snowing, bit by little bit, since yesterday afternoon, at least. It is alternately very snowy, or almost not at all snowy. I love it. Thank you cold front. There is something about the cold that simply makes me want to dance. It's cold, it's wild, it brings newness, in the form of an all-covering blanket of white, with it sometimes, and here in the mountains, it brings even colder wind gusts. As odd as that last thing seems, I do love it. I love the wind here. It is wild. It doesn't give you any pretense that you could possibly control it.

Have you entered the storehouses of the
or have you seen the storehouses of
the hail,
which I have reserved for the time of
for the day of battle and war?
What is the way to the place where the
light is distributed,
or where the east wind is scattered
upon the earth?

Job 38: 22-24

It makes me feel small. It's an uncomfortable feeling, and yet one with amazing freedom.

It's like a match being lit,
or the sinking of a ship,
letting go gives you better grip.

David Crowder, Foreverandever

My new classes are something else all together. As I live through each semester, each semester becomes harder, more challenging and yet more satisfying as I complete them. It is satisfying to realize that I'm starting to understand Music Theory finally. My professor mentioned in one of the first days of class that a male mosquito's wings hum at about the pitch of a very high D. A female mosquito's wings will hover at a perfect 5th below that. A perfect 5th is the most perfect interval in music, the vibrations of the notes themselves, locking into place, so, if you know what you're listening for, you can tell instantly what it sounds like. The female mosquito and the male mosquito will not mate until they find another mosquito, one whose wings hum in a perfect 5th to theirs, their perfect mate. I've been struggling to understand music theory for three, going on four semesters now, and mosquitoes have it built into them by the God of the Universe.

With every new semester comes new faces. There are new residents on my hall, new people in my classes, new faces at RUF, babies just born, or pregnancies just discovered. Life buzzes all around.

A friend of mine died last year. Another friend of mine is now in Alaska. Yet another friend is no longer on campus, because she's off doing student teaching.

For the first time in the history of the United States we are about to have a black president. It's "history in the making" they say. I say, while this president is looked on as the salvation of the people, the one who is going to restore the economy, people are getting their hopes up for nothing. Change doesn't come in four years. It can start but it doesn't finish. Oh, and ever presidential election is "history in the making." Get a life people.

And everything up above, is my partially new outlook on life. The world might be going crazy, it might be getting better, but anything that is happening is happening for a reason. Who's to worry about what we can't control. Like David Crowder said above, maybe we just have to let go to get a better grasp on things.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Four-year-old on the loose

One picture I wish to keep in my mind with me always is the picture of Lily Ava's grubby little four-year-old (today!) hands looking for flowers for Mommy. It was positively precious.

Because today was Lily Ava's birthday, I some how ended up with Lily Ava in the back seat of my car as I drove to the nearest craft store, looking, not only for a little something for Lily Ava, but for a gift for Mary Asta, because I won't be here for her birthday.

Upon getting there, the fake flowers were the first thing both of us saw. I love fake flowers, and if I could, I'd probably have lots of vases of them everywhere during the winter. Lily Ava seemed to have the same thoughts, though of a particular flower, or bunch of flowers.

She immediately trundled up to them and declared, patting them, "I want for Mommy."

Just a little bit touched, I said, "Well, we'll see. Maybe when we come back this way."

She understood.

We skipped (literally) through the rest of the store, looking for things. We ran to the bathroom, because for once, the older sister needed to go, and not the younger one. We trotted back to the kids craft section and sang "We're following the leader" from Disney's Peter Pan.

Lily Ava version: "We'ewe following da leadew, da leadew, da leadew..."

There were many exclamations of, "I wan' buy dis for Asta. (Mary Asta)" and simply, "I wan' dis." She went gung-ho with my idea of a paint-by-number kit that had three paint-by-numbers in it. She would have gone gung-ho if I'd suggested getting Mary Asta a set of Transformer Legos (if they make those).

On our way back to the front of the store, I told her to go find the flowers. She found them, pretty much on her own, and buzzed right through every type of flower, until she'd found the ones she saw when we first came in. She wanted just those, none other.

When I asked her which colors she wanted, she grabbed a handful of the pale blue blossoms, not even thinking that they might be in bunches. I had to help. After seeing the bunches, she was a bit more careful. I held the pale blue, and then a darker blue, and then a pink, and then a mauve color as she reached for bunch after bunch, determined to find the best for Mommy. I finally had to limit it to four different types. Then I pointed out that she had two blue types, and did she want to find a different color, a color other then blue. For a four-year-old, she was sharp. She pulled the pale blue out of my hands and put it back, before reaching for a pale peach bunch. She was certain that she wanted all of those flowers for Mommy.

We went to the cash register. She carried the flowers. She proudly stuck them on the counter and grasped the counter staring at the flowers and the woman checking us out as if to make sure that it was all done properly.

After all was said and done, she carried the flowers (in her own baggy that the lady gave her) out to the car, into the car, on the way home, out of the car, and then finally into the house, where she proudly presented them to Mom.

"We bot dees." She proclaimed, holding them out to Mom, while standing on a bench so she could see Mom's face better.

"How pretty!" My mother exclaimed. "For your birthday?"

"No." Lily Ava was emphatic. "Der for you."

Eventually Mom understood. They now sit proudly in a vase in our downstairs guest bathroom, making it just a little friendlier down there.

Oh to have the determination and simple love of a four-year-old.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

You think YOU'RE lazy?

A conversation via Google talk, Mom had with me while I was sitting at my computer upstairs.

Mom: Hana, could you please call Daddy and ask him to get on google talk, or come up here?

Hana: ROFL

Mom: what are you ROFLing about?

Hana: oh the irony
you IM me to ask me to call Dad

Mom: at least you didn't call me lazy.

Hana: ROFL
I'm calling home
don't pick up

Mom: do you think he'll answer?

Hana: possibly
congrats you two...Mom is officially now lazier then Dad...

He picked up. He came upstairs. It was epic.