word to yo mama

Good news: I evaded capture by the KGB and have survived a week of brutal training overseen by an elderly man named "Sarge." (I'm sure he has a real name, but real names are all but obliterated once one sets foot on MR campus.)

Sarge originally joined the Air Force in WWII and has quite the history with firearms. Ergo, Sarge is in charge (hehe...I rhymed!) of the marksmanship program at Miracle Ranch. How did I end up under his vicious reign? Well, little did I know when I drove to camp last Sunday that I was signing up for a week of marksmanship training. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Last Sunday, I actually got lost when I was trying to find Miracle Ranch. And, by the time I got there, a rather large group of smiling, waving horsemen (and women) were greeting all who came up the drive. I don't know why, but it was intimidating. Mix that with the fact that I had gotten lost, was "late," and had no idea where to go to check in, and well, you have one nervous introvert on your hands. Er, the introvert was on my hands because I'm the introvert, but...you get the idea.

The Lord had to give me a pep talk via prayer to get me to actually get out of my car and try to find the right office. Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as my shyness thought it would be and I found my cabin and then some friends shortly thereafter.

Various counselors (res camp/day camp/outpost) were there as well as other staff and some of the wranglers, so I got to know a bunch of different people, but not too many. It was nice not to be overwhelmed the first week. This way, I can gradually break into it and feel mostly comfortable by the time the first week of camp rolls around.

Oh, and I'm super stoked for the first week. "Sprint" week involves having a bunch of kids come from inner city Tacoma from a YMCA group. I've been told they all have major attitude, but I don't care. It's exciting. :D

Now I can go back to Sarge.

This last week, I took the NRA Basic Firearm Training and Home Safety Course. These included a lot of lecture hours, and it was all very interesting, just a lot of information for four days. Also--the best part--we went out to the range and got to shoot .22 rifles in various positions, eventually shooting for record. (I earned both pro-marksman and marksman this week. Don't ask me what that means...I don't really know! :-P )

Anyhow, it was a lot of fun, and I'm really glad that I passed all four tests yesterday, which means that I'll be one of the rangemasters this summer, which also means I'll be able to go out to the range to practice whenever I want, which also means I can keep firing for record with Sarge and can keep going up in skill. But that's the ideal. I don't know if I'll have time to practice or not...but if nothing else, it's been a good learning experience.

Last summer, when I went up to visit the Cronks in AK, Tyler took me out to the firing range for part of a day and I got a crash course in firearms. Good teacher, but I'm glad I had more info. Now I know a darn lot of info about firearms--rifles in particular--and my interest in purchasing a firearm for sporting use in the future has much increased.

* * *

I'm really glad I'm at camp. I love the people who are there, and I have a good feeling I'm making some lifelong friends here. (YES!) Seriously, how can I not love people named Rising Sun, Jinxy, Chipoodle, Stiletto, and Trogdor? As for me, I am officially renamed "Hakuna Matata." Guess which song I'll be hearing all summer long...

ANYHOW: I will continue to check in once a week for the duration of the summer, so I'm not entirely cut off. Also, you can text me if you like, I just might not be able to respond quickly. Plus, there's not that great of reception over there...



PS. It's so nice to be doing something that I know God is backing. There is incredible peace and joy in that.

justice

Justice

I believe all children have a strong sense of right and wrong, fair and unfair. Their cry for justice often revolves around who got the bigger cookie or who got to stay up later than whom, but their determination to see the right thing done does not stop at petty, everyday occurences. When children are confronted by the bigger issue, they adamantly proclaim what is right and they hate the bad guy for getting away with what he did.

Perhaps this is why, as children, we wanted to grow up to be superheroes, firemen, and policeman. And perhaps this is why God tells us to be childlike before we can enter into the kingdom of heaven...

For me, I was one such child. Then, as I grew older, I began to see injustices with a blasé attitude. "Hey, that happens to everyone, why let myself get worked up over it, right?" "A lot of people endure hardships like poverty and genocide." "What's the big deal?" I am ashamed that I have felt that way on so many different occasions.

Recently--and by "recently," I mean within the last few years--I have had my attention drawn to the plight of women and children who are taken advantage of simply because they can't stand up for themselves. In particular, this awareness has come with the emphasis our university has had with efforts to help stop human trafficking.

Yesterday, when I was reading my Bible, I read several chapters in Exodus talking about justice, doing the right thing regardless of circumstances. In Micah, we are asked what God requires of us: to act justly, love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. Over and over, God tells His people to plead for the case of the widow and the oppressed. We are to be kind to foreigners because once we were oppressed in a foreign land.

So why are we not doing what we are told to do? Why am I not getting a law degree so that I can help people in the real world? Really, how much good is an English degree going to do someone who's been sold into prostitution at the age of five? I don't think that hearing about how Lacan would perceive a certain literary work would do anything to erase the hurt and humiliation inflicted on body, heart, mind, and soul.

wow

Today was a hard day. It was a stretching experience full of, well, bad moments and mini-miracles. I love that God can take a day that I don't really want to be a part of, and then remind me of who He is and how He loves me--and those around me too.

Random emotions throughout the day--as expressed in detail in this blog--were subtle, but very much present. I was tired and stressed by the end of the day--even though it wasn't busy. I had too many memories picking at my brain, and I needed to get away from them.

So I got back to my apartment, drank some water, added a new album to my music player, and made a deal with God. (Yeah...it sounds worse than what it actually was.) I said that I was going to go running, and then when I got back from running, when my head was clear, I would read my Bible.

I headed out to Watershed and started running. And it was great for awhile. And then partway through, all the thoughts that had been pushed to the outskirts of my mind crowded back in and I started walking, slowly, and trying to deal with them. It was very overwhelming.

At one point, I started crying, and then the music I was listening to reminded me of who God is. And as I listened to the music, I began to pray more, claiming who God is and how He is worthy to be praised in the midst of all the crap of my life. Then I claimed His promises that He has made to me, that everything will be okay. And then I was able to run again, with joy, and I finished up my run, praying and praising.

Also, I saw about seven or eight rabbits along the trail--the most I've ever seen on the trail. I felt loved, which sounds odd, but seeing the random rabbit on the trail was like a miniature love note from God. Like a lover bringing you fuzzy slippers on a bad day, only they were real bunnies. ;)

Anyhow, after my run--a total of an hour and 2+ miles--I did come back to the apartment with a clear head, and a light heart, and I read my Bible for an hour, which was great. Every time I stop reading my Bible and then come back to it, I remember how great it is to read it and I wonder why I keep forgetting how much peace comes from spending time with God.

In short, God is amazing. I love Him. We're good. :)

altruism vs. pessimism and the balance between

I have a severely disappointed altruistic spirit. I always think the best of people, and then I find that people stab each other in the back repeatedly.

Is it human nature to be so downright cruel? I mean, really, do we need to talk badly of people when they anger us? Do we need to be nasty? Is it inevitable that we will harp on others?

Also, when we desire to put distance between us, does that have to take the form of snotty coldness? Or is there a kinder way of separating?

And yes, I am guilty of all of this behavior, and it's just as disappointing--if not more so--in me as in others...

I very much feel like Jane Bennett in P&P, but not quite so naive. I can recognize when people are being total jerks, but I still hope for the best when behavior is questionable and not fully black and white. But for some reason, I never expect people to be totally underhanded/deceitful as they can be.



Totally different thought:

Why are there certain guys who have groupies, or as I like to call it, a harem? Why are there these individuals who attract girls like bees to nectar? Are they genuine, or are they complete frauds?

And, for the record, I hope to never be one of those groupies who gazes in addled admiration at her idol. I do not want to be so enchanted by a guy that I cannot see his flaws or be willing to correct him when he needs it. (Side note: I hope I only have true friends who will also correct me when I need it. I'm more afraid of making an ass of myself than of being corrected.)

For this matter, I hope I don't end up being one of those girls who flocks to another girl who is popular for whatever reason. I don't like the idea of seeing any one person as amazing over every one else. I think it's total bollocks to see people like that.

Yes, some people are infinitely more talented and congenial than others, but that doesn't mean that they are perfect or deserve that sort of honor. Speak well of them, treat them with respect, but for the love of all things sane, please treat them as another human being above all and remember Who deserves your praise and admiration wholly. (Hint: He's supernatural...)

PS. I do not want to conform any longer. I want to break from the mold, go out on a limb, and trust God with all my heart, body, and soul. I'm tired of fully trusting in people and getting hurt. This does not mean that I will be skeptical/cynical of all people. That's not the point. My point is that I want to keep God first and foremost because then, when people inevitably will hurt me, I'll be able to recover.

senses

Earlier today, I listened to a few seconds of the coffeepot percolating like a wheezing, asthmatic Darth Vader. (I swear, if Star Wars decides to jump on that merchandising bandwagon, we'll get Vader helmet-shaped coffeepots at some point.) Later, I was listening to Enya's mood music in the bookstore. Mellow, trance-inducing, all over relaxing. Now, the clock ticking, and the quiet rush of freeway traffic.

Tastes of the day: Doritos, coffee, water, chocolate covered almonds, quesadillas, and peanut butter. (Ok, the peanut butter is figurative because today has felt like a "swimming through peanut butter" day. I guess I left my mouth open.)

The smell of rain on asphalt. I dunno why, but it's pretty refreshing. There was the coffee earlier, and various people scents--laundry detergent, perfume, cologne, the human body. I'm not opposed to human body smells. (Flatulence being the exception.) Maybe it's because I grew up in Africa and I'm used to smelling people as they smell naturally. No added scents--just people. This is probably the same reason why, when I smell the fish market at Pike's Place, my heart automatically squeezes for home.

Swahili proverb: "You can't wash the dust of Africa from your feet." How true it is. Africa will always remain in my heart, even if I never go back.

For the entire morning and the beginning of the afternoon, I had a pounding headache in my brain's left hemisphere. Any sudden movement requiring additional blood to be pumped through my head stabbed throbs of agony into my head. This, in turn, required me to pause, grab my head, and try not to swear out loud. But then, as I complained after taking medicine and drinking coffee and having no results, Ronda prayed for me and less than 30 seconds later, the headache was gone. I guess I forget that God works in the small miracles as well as the large. (And I'm a big proponent of prayer, too!)

I also feel soreness in my outer pectorals. I don't know how else to describe it. It's the muscles between my shoulders and breasts. I guess that'd be outer pecs, right? ;) (Yep, me and anatomically correct terminology go hand in hand.) I did a bunch of pushups yesterday after running--two sets of ten reps each--and yesterday, I didn't feel a thing. Today, well, let's just say I'm not clamoring to help lift heavy boxes! :)

Things I've seen today: people. Went to the post office with Tyler, saw the mail clerks. Apparently--and here is why I am CLUELESS when it comes to guy/girl relationships--one of the clerks was hitting on me. Me, I just thought he was being nice. (I usually go to him when I'm on bookstore business because the boxes are typically too heavy for the female clerks to manage.) Tyler, on the other hand, pointed out that he was hitting on me, and had been checking me out in the line. I don't know about that...but again, I am apparently very clueless.

Well, I need to go look at some books and probably a lot of papers. Maybe I'll feel their textures, too, and get a whiff of paper and glue at the bindings, hear their pages rustle softly as I verify information... ;)