Kitchen Braveheart

*bad work in progress

The party was picking up. People were mingling, laughing, flirting, and doing all the other activities that make human interaction interesting.

Heathcliff slung back the last his punch and clutched his empty cup near his stomach. He was pretending to be interested in the conversation circling him, but the truth was his eyes were searching the room looking for her. She had disappeared a little while ago with a couple of dirty plates and cups, and hadn't returned to the crowd. Heathcliff had been to quite a few other functions with this same group, and he noticed that it never failed for this girl to disappear and not be seen till the very end of the festivities. He wondered where she went and what she did. Her unusual party habits had struck a nerve with him.

As for the girl herself, she wasn't particularly striking. A little on the chubby side, with brown hair trying to be passed off as auburn. Her teeth were a little crooked, but her smile and laugh lit up her face when she allowed it too. However, Heathcliff loved her eyes. They were blue and they betrayed her emotions more than she could have known. When she was happy, they burned like stars at the birth of an evening. When she was annoyed, they pierced like arrows. But when she was sad, they betrayed her the most. Sadness seemed to flow out of her eyes like a raised river during a heavy rain. It would flood her. Sometimes she would try to hide those eyes, but that just betrayed her all the more. Heathcliff had observed all of this and hid it to himself. Sometimes it made him feel creepy watching her like he did, but he couldn't help it. She mystified him on a number of levels. He decided that this would be the night when he took an active role in his study of this girl.

Detaching himself from a conversation he wasn't really a part of, he took his empty cup to the kitchen,where standing at the sink was the girl. She was running water and squeezing soap, a pile of dishes waiting to be washed on the counter. Heathcliff could only imagine that the water filling up the sink reflected the color of her eyes as she stared into its depths. Spotting the trash can beside the door leading from the kitchen to the dining room beside him, he threw his cup away as noisy as he could, even going so far to shake the bag to make more room for the trash he didn't have. She turned off the water and turned to look at him. Heathcliff didn't move and she smiled at him. It was a smile that said, "I'm-not-as happy-at-seeing-you-as-I-look-but-I'm-going-to-be-friendly". Seeing that he wasn't going to leave, she asked him if he needed anything.

Heathcliff saw this as the perfect place to make his move. He put his hands in his pockets and sauntered over to the sink. Placing one hand on the counter he looked at her. She was staring at him, slight apprehension and puzzlement on her face.

He looked down. "Well, aren't you just the Martha?" he asked her smiling, trying to prove that the question was as jovial as he was.

She shrugged and turned back to the sink. The water had filled it halfway and the soap was billowing on the surface. She picked up a few of the plates and dropped them in with care.

"Perhaps"was her only verbal reply.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine." she said without hesitation but with a hint of a sigh. Her hands were moving through the water, one of them holding a scrubbing brush the other reaching for a plate. She proceeded to wash it, moving the brush around the plate, from the outside to the inside, following some internal rhythm.

"I don't mind to help. You wash and I'll dry. Then you can get back to socializing with everyone out there." Heathcliff said as he looked for a towel.

She didn't look at him, but instead held the plate she had just washed and said to it, "That's very nice, but I don't want you to miss out on talking to everyone"

Heathcliff tried not to laugh at her stubbornness and secretly applauded her for the subtlety she had used to get him to leave her. "I rather help you then talk to everyone else."

This one caught her attention. She handed him the washed plate, but didn't let it go when Heathcliff took hold of it. Staring at his collarbone she said, "You would rather help me? No one ever wants to help me. No one ever seems to notice that I need help."

Her hand dropped from the plate and reached through the soap and water to grab another. Heathcliff dried it and put it to the side. He wasn't sure what to say to this. But before he could, she stiffened up and started to wash another dish. "You know, someone has to wash the dishes and clean up the trash, and I don't mind to do it. It allows everyone else to relax and have fun." She sounded as if she was trying to cover up what she had said before.

Heathcliff didn't say anything. He could feel that whatever he said at this point would be dismissed. Instead he finished helping her with the dishes. As she wiped down the counters with a cloth he leaned against the fridge. She always seemed so sad. Heathcliff had noticed this every time they were at an activity together. She needed something from outside of herself. Why did she seem to be fighting the world from the inside. She needed someone to fight for her. She needed a braveheart. And what was more, he wanted to be that braveheart. He had a moment where he imagined himself smearing his face with blue paint, and ridding out on a horse to prove that he was worthy to fight for her.

She had finished the counter, and was folding the dish towels on the corner of the sink. "Well... thank you for your help, I guess now we can get back to the party." she said.

Heathcliff wasn't ready to leave just yet. He finally had a moment alone with her and he wasn't going to let that go. His mind hurtle through quick small talk topics, but none seemed right. He bit his lip trying to think and panic when he saw her give him a nod and turn to leave through the door.

"Wait!" It was desperate, and Heathcliff felt the pressure even more when this made her stop and look at him.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Uhm... Uhm...I've been wanting to ask you...Uhm... Uhm... What's your favorite book?" It was lame and he knew it. But he might not have another chance this evening to talk to her one on one.

She smiled and her face went soft. "Jane Eyre. I love her and Mr. Rochester. She's so frank with him, and he loves her for it even if she's not of his class or status. I also like Wuthering Heights."

This made Heathcliff smile. "Wuthering Heights is my mother's favorite book."

"I figured your mother must have some attachment to it," she teased.

Her teasing made Heathcliff feel more at ease. He smiled and the banter continued as the clock swung its hands. He made her laugh and smile, now the polite stuff she usually did, but laugh like a monkey, real and substantial. Her smile stretched all the way across her face and made her seem more alive.

Fill Me Up God

For some reason my life seems to be revolving around the book of Ruth. I came back from the Dominican with the idea that now I am a college graduate, I would start to grow up a little. I also decided that it was time to stop looking for someone to feel the empty void within me. I figured that a good first step to growing up would be to join a new adult class on Wednesday nights at church. At first, I thought of asking one of the other girls to go with me, after all, who wants to grow up alone? However, I decided against that. I'm a big girl. I can talk to people; I'm fairly outgrowing. A new class would be for me and me alone. So I joined a class about studying the Bible (since I also struggle with reading my Bible). We would be spending the next couple of months learning different ways to study the Bible using the book of Ruth. First of all, I'm not a huge fan of the book of Ruth. Yes, I can hear the gasps from all WOW members across the internet even as I type, but the fact remains is that Ruth is not a woman that I find myself relating too. But nonetheless, here I am in a class that focuses on Ruth, a small four chapter book, for about 16 weeks. Enough time to read each chapter 4 times. And so far, it has been interesting. I've thought about the book in different terms already, one being the distance between Bethlehem and Moab. Why would Naomi and her family travel 90 or so miles to a country that has historically been enemies of her people? Questions like these were changing the way that I had always looked at the book of Ruth. However, my classmates were not seeing or relating to things the way I was. The difference? I am the only one in class without husband or children. As each woman relates both Ruth and Naomi to their own families, I am left sitting wondering what I can contribute for this (excepting that "future" advice I should be storing). It can make for a sad evening.

However, while at Liberty last weekend, I was taken to one of my favorite places to be: a bookstore. And since I'm at Liberty, I can expect a lot of books on theology and "stuff Christians like". My goal was to find a new devotion book. I wanted to have something definite to help me with my Bible reading and keep me from falling off the wagon. While in the women's section (really, where else would I be?) I found a book called "Lady in Waiting: Becoming God's Best While Waiting for Mr. Right". Hadn't I just spend a quarter of my quiet time that morning at the LU Monogram praying that God would bring me Mr. Right? Hadn't I just been imagining browsing through that bookstore with the man of my dreams? Of course I had. It was a daily thing for me to do. Needless to say, the book intrigued me. Scanning the back of the book, it didn't look any different from any other book that promised to teach me to live above my longing for my earthly Prince. I flipped open the cover to the introduction and skimmed it. About two-thirds down the page my eyes took in the information that made me look towards the ceiling and give God a little "are-you-kidding-me" look. This book was using the book of Ruth to help me realize the fundamental truth that God has been screaming at me for months: He is all I need. But here was what I am studying at church to prove that I can be a grown up coupled with something that weighs down my very soul. Its a God thing. So I purchased the book.

All this back story is leading to a conclusion, I promise. And here it is. I am committing myself to really discover and be a Lady in Waiting for God. This will be my personal journey with a love relationship with Christ. It's time that I told God that He's enough and actually live knowing that He is. I don't know why I'm nervous. The worst that could happen is that if I really dive into this, God will fill me. What's so bad about that? Because right now I worry that means that I won't get my Prince Charming, my Mr. Right. However, that's just defeating myself before I begin. God will fill me. I just have to surrender that vessel before Him. Okay loneliness, you're about to hit the road, so if you have a final tear to shed, I suggest you cry it now.

God, fill me up

Beautiful

if i could open my mouth

and let notes of glory

tumble and fly

you would think

me beautiful.

if had toned thighs,

playboy polished

boobs and rear

that never jiggled,

if my hips

didn't sway

of their own accord

you would think

me beautiful.

if my teeth

were whiter

my feet smaller

if i didn't always

have a zit on my chin.

you would think

me beautiful.

perhaps if i didn't laugh

louder than a monkey,

maybe if kept my thoughts

to myself,

if i read less

and was shallow more

you would think

me beautiful.

if i were more

of a girl

who had yet to feel

the world behind her

and less of the woman

with bags under

her tearful eyes

you would find

me beautiful.

but i am none

of those things,

am i then

not beautiful?

no.

in eyes that

watch stars burn

i am beautiful

beyond all

your thoughts

and your opinions.

Thoughts on Vision in Visionland this Summer....

This weekend was all about vision. And white water rafting. To say that I didn't have fun would be a lie. I had so much fun, considering I have never been white water rafting before. However, rather than write a blog dedicated to the fun that I had, I find myself thinking over vision more.

What vision is God giving me? I know that my passion lies with women and teaching them that their worth lies in God alone. But what is the next step? I love to write, I love to read, and I love to feel that the words God gives to me, speaks to the hearts of the people that I am talking to. But how do I take that, and live it out? Am I sure that is God's vision for me? What am I doing here on this earth if I am not carrying out God's vision for me? What am I doing right now if I'm not seeking out what that vision is? I'm wasting time. And since I am a slave to Christ, it's not my time to waste. When I surrendered, I took on the will of the Master, and His will involves vision. To not be seeking the will that He has for me, is to disobey the will of the Master.

una noche del rio (a night by the river)

basking in Your glory

i close my eyes to the

wonders of Your

creation.

roaring rivers

of rapturous rapids

race past my window

tracing the toes of

marvelous mountains

that touch the sky.

the Heavens abound

in starlight

perfect ambiance

to the sleepy, silhouetted

earth made of Your hands.

i am in awe of

the God who

whispers breezes

who created green

and blue

the world explodes

in song

of Your magnitude

they speak of the

God

whose essence

pours on this earth

like a waterfall

whose beauty sways

like a coursing river

whose might stands taller

than the mountains

Your beauty and imagination

echos,

resounds...

i breathe it in

feeling my chest expand

with Your creation

i close my eyes

and let Your breeze

kiss my face

within my rapt

silence.

No Fuego Aqui

Last night was my dinner challenge for the internship. And considering that the stove did not catch on fire or blow up, I considered the challenge throughly accomplished. However, God has a higher standard of attainment and for that, I concede that our evening was quite perfect, if I am allowed to make the assumption that near perfection is obtainable.

As for problems, the biggest ones we had were the cake stuck to the bottom of the pan (to which the solution was to spoon it out onto the plate and cover it with a nice swirl of whipped cream) and we were ignorant in how to make coffee, which may have cost us some since coffee is equivalent to manna in this country. But since God was in control, our dinner was fantastic. Our first quest, Carolina and her mother showed up only 45 minutes late, on the standard of Dominican time, I thought they were quite early. On a side-note, one of the biggest difficulties that I have with the Dominican culture is the time difference. And it comes from their attitude versus our attitude. I for one, love their laid-back attitude, but it does play havoc with my internal United Statian way of upbringing. I simply need to be more flexible. But nonetheless, we ate our dinner of spaghetti and salad minus two guests. But it was fun. Carolina and her mother were so sweet and it made for a nice dinner. When we had finished, we went to take a piece of cake to our gate keeper, and when we reached the bottom of the steps that lead to the street, who should be coming up our walk, but one of our missing guests plus two friends.

So back up we went, taking Carlos, his sister Jacyln, and their cousin Moises. Our food was cold, our salad... a little wilted, but we sat the three of them on the couch and filled their hands with a plate of cake and a fork. About this time, the rest of our group decided to come back to the apartment. But it worked to our advantage because entertaining became a group thing. Our group had icebreaker questions which we posed to our Dominican brethren, and they in turn had a few questions for us. Conversations about what superhero powers we wanted, our greatest fears, embarrassments, weird things we had seen floated back and forth across the room in excited and loud spanish and english. It became an evening of bonding and breaking barriers as spanglish became our official language.

We praise God for a good dinner challenge. We praise God that we still have a stove. We praise God for good fellowship. And we praise God for San Pedro.

Dios te bendiga

San Pedro Update

I don't really have anything to write at this moment. We're in the planning stages of all our ministries such as English camp and our outreaches.

For outreach, my group has the college campus, the beautifully landscaped USE. I am really excited to have the opporutunity to be able to minister to the college students, since its what I do back in the states. We have been asked to plan a Bible study on the campus, which makes me even more happy. I keep thinking that our girl's study back at Lewis has now been going for a year. Its grown and dwindled, but as a group we've grown closer to God and to each other. We've become each other's support and accountability which is something one needs during their college years. And thinking about the girl's Bible study back home makes me even more excited about the one we're going to start on the USE campus. We meant to visit it the other day, but it was closed. I am hoping that within the next day or two we can go and visit and do a Prayer walk through it.

Tonight is the dinner challenge for my group and my biggest prayer is for the stove not to blow up. I know I have left the door wide open for an entire array of other problems to arise, but I think that I could handle those. A stove catching fire/blowing up will send me over the end. Period. So in a few famous last words: tonight should be interesting.