A Thesis on Sneezing

ACHOO!

The sound instantly alerts everyone in the near vicinity, heads turning quickly like vultures to an animal corpse.

“Bless you!” come the multiple replies.

“Thank you!”

Sneezing—what an interesting experience.  It’s one of those experiences that is universal, regardless of ethnicity, gender, or upbringing.  The response is universal, because all know the feeling. Everybody sneezes; it’s a fact of life.

One of my favorite things about sneezing is, much like laughing, the variety that takes place in this simple human experience. A baby sneezes, everyone around cries, “Oh!”, as if this sneeze was too much for this baby to handle (sometimes by the distraught look in their eyes after this happens, you’d think it was). A dog sneezes, the same. A first grader sneezes in the classroom; “BLESS YOU” is screamed from all corners of the room from their peers. Even adults acknowledge sneezing with a “Bless you,” even if it lacks sincerity sometimes.

Along with the wonderful results of sneezing, you have the actual sneezing itself. There’s the fake sneezes, usually from middle school girls, the ones that you can’t believe was actually a sneeze. “A-chie!!!!” Ma’am, I don’t care what you call that, there is no way that snot just blew out of your nose at 60mph…I just can’t believe that. Then you have the normal sneezes, the “ACHOO!”s, the ones where your head jerks forward and you fear hitting your head on the table in front of you. This sneeze is experienced by the majority of people, and can be considered your typical, ho-hum sneeze. Then…you have the sneezes like my dad sneezes, where he bends entirely in half and yells at the ground, “AHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!“

This is the best kind of sneeze. This is the kind of sneeze that makes elephants poop on the spot, that makes church services stop at an instant, the kind of sneeze where one can see the powerful force that a sneeze makes. Every time my dad sneezes, I laugh. It’s entertainment on demand, and it gets better EVERY SNEEZE. To my delight, I have inherited my father’s sneeze. It is WONDERFUL.

Sneezing—uncontrollable, no matter how hard one tries. What a gift sneezing is. The nose is tickled by unwelcome company and, impatient as the nose is, it projects the company across the Earth in the form of a sneeze. The nose really is a beautifully impatient instrument. In the presence of unwelcome company? The nose instantly sneezes. In the presence of an unpleasant smell? The nose instantly wrinkles. Smell chocolate chip cookies? The nose instantly, and greedily, expands.

I’ve always thought about sneezes—about how peculiar they are and their universality. I’ve always wondered what I look like when I sneeze. It is something you can never know since you can’t sneeze with your eyes open. About five years ago, I felt a sneeze coming on, and impulsively grabbed my camera. This is the wonderful picture that was taken on that day.  

Happy sneezing, friends. 

Heart Conditions

I want to be FIERCE. I want to be a courageous woman of God who fights for justice with compassion and love. I want to be bold, giving it all up in pursuit of Him, sowing seeds of love and healing the broken, being a light where there is none, helping people realize the beautiful creations that they are, and SO MUCH MORE. My heart is plagued with expectations that I’ve just recently began starting to uncover.

Sometimes I get so frustrated and angry at societal expectations, as it hinders people from love, acceptance, and embracing of full potential. Fear of rejection translates into complacency and then people don’t even TRY. Which is COMPLETELY UNDERSTANDABLE in the given circumstances. So how can one break free of these expectations that hinder us from following our true desires?

I’m reading this book right now entitled “No More Christian Nice Girl” by Paul Coughlin & Jennifer D. Degler. I’m so thankful for Paul and Jennifer’s existence, and that they took the time, and thought that it was worth their time, to write this book. I know the title sounds so cheesy (I even laughed upon seeing it myself), but seven chapters in and it has been such a blessing.  In it, they are basically looking at “Christian Nice Girl” syndrome, and how it doesn’t reflect the Christ that Christians follow. It looks at the 360 degree Jesus—the one that is firm and gentle, strong and compassionate.

I’ve been really torn up recently about my place in God’s kingdom. Do I have any value in His kingdom as a woman? As a woman, I am complacent, meek, mild—what can I offer? Is fighting only for the men? Is fighting for justice and compassion something that is far beyond my abilities as a woman? HOW. SCREWED. UP. IS. THIS. THINGKING?! I mean really. I’ve been so frustrated and angry for the past two weeks feeling worthless when my heart desired BOLDNESS and EXPANSION, GROWTH and HEARTFELT COMPASSION. Why do I feel the need to deny my life of these things? Acting on these impulses, calling out the injustices of the world would bring light, not darkness, and yet I sit in cowardice, waiting, as if that’s what my Savior did (which He didn’t. He fought for every human on the earth, ACTIVELY, not PASSIVELY).

I’ve been told to be meek, mild, nice—because that’s what I’m supposed to be. I can’t do that.  MY SOUL CAN NOT SIT STILL. It wants to MOVE, to BREATHE, to EXPLORE. My soul wants ADVENTURE, to meet new people, to LAUGH, to GET SO PISSED OFF AT THE CONDITIONS OF THE WORLD, to FIGHT. Yes. You heard me. I want TO FIGHT. Human trafficking makes me angry. The way homosexuals are treated makes me angry. Neglecting the lower class makes me angry. ALL OF THESE THINGS MAKE ME ANGRY. BROKEN PEOPLE HURT MY SOUL. People who have been told that they are worthless are GOLD. They need to know this. Who is going to tell them?

This book has been such a blessing because it has shown me that God wants me to fight. He doesn’t want me to be meek and mild. Looking at the women of the Bible shows the boldness in their person. Ruth—BOLD. Deborah—SO BOLD. Mary—goodness, Mary. BOLD. They fought. They were strong. And they were WOMEN. I have a place in God’s kingdom after all. As a fighter. As a warrior princess. It’s going to be a process getting to a place where I feel strong enough to fight, but it is possible. 

This is the true condition of my heart on June 20, 2012. Welcome. Here you have seen the discoveries of late, the ruminations of my soul, and the anger at conditions of the world as is. I’m excited for a few opportunities on my horizon that I will blog about as I feel led. I’m feeling so inspired tonight, because I know that I am not alone. There are women who have been in my place before me and have persevered, and I will persevere. I’m feeling on FIRE, but the emphasizing caps lock really helps with that. If anything you read resounded in your soul, contact me. Let’s grab coffee this summer, or run through a sprinkler and talk. :)

In Him,

Amber     

Made New

You. You there.

Make an incision in my veins and bleed me dry.

Leave me there, a pounding heart.

A burning body, writhing.

By taking away all that I am

I can find all that I am.

And this lifeless body can be filled again--

New. True.

Fill me.

I am Yours.

Take this writhing body and replace me.

Love, Joy, Peace.

Patience.

Kindness, Goodness, Gentleness, Faithfulness.

Self-control.

“I know I’m filled to be emptied again;

This seed I’ve received I will sow.”

*  *  *

The world is new.

I am a child, the earth cushions my feet.

I dance in freedom, in joy.

Are you broken? Come.

I will hold you in an embrace until you can stand again.

Let’s love.

Let’s explore.

At the base of my being I long for adventure

I long to explore, to see

To give explosions of joy to others

To travel to unknown places.

My heart pounds in these revelations.

*  *  *

Day by day,

I feel myself coming back to life

My heart restarting.

Broken places being healed.

Veins full of His passionate fire.

Vigor and Love.

Soon I may be able to humbly stand,

Made New.

Step Three

Hilary Mankin 1992-2012

I stare at the words on the casket, knowing full well what they mean, yet still unable to feel it.

I’ve heard that you only use 10% of your brain. Part of me wonders if just 5% more were used that I’d be able to wrap my mind around this more quickly.

“Do you think that tree is beautiful too?” Coco asks me. I turn my head in a haze and stare at the tree across the cemetery, its branches enveloping the surrounding stones. Yes. Of course that tree is beautiful. Just as every person is beautiful.

Hilary.

I feel bad for smiling so much at the funeral.

The place was packed. Full of people. Love emitting from every person. We are a community—bonded. There is beauty in death. How have I never seen it before?

People come up to me and others: “Hi, how are you?”

Translation: “I love you.”

Love.

Everyone is so vulnerable as they see the body. True emotions and held back sadness are unleashed as the brutal reality of what has happened is revealed. Vulnerability is accepted by all and embraced—no judgments made.

“It’s not an open casket is it? Richard, I’ll lose it if it’s an open casket. I don’t know if I can take it.”

Pause.

Richard nods.

I shock myself. I’m capable of tears and hysterics on demand.

Marisa has a strong grip around my shoulders as I near collapse.

Jarring.

She looks…

Dead.

Is that too blunt?

It’s just a body in that casket. Hilary is far-gone, being cared for by her beautiful Creator. That brings peace, so much peace. But this body.

It’s so young. No wrinkles.

It smells of grass and vibrancy, not wax paper and potpourri.

New.

What a beautiful blessing this life is.

What a beautiful blessing a body is.

A body with a life is finite, but a life without a body is eternal.

I feel bad for mourning with philosophy, though I’ve been told I shouldn’t feel bad.

Hilary.

Why don’t we hug more often? This thought crosses my mind as I leap from person to person, smiling and giving, loving the love and basking in its beautiful presence.

Hilary loved hugs. She would love this part.

Funeral processions are strange. A line of cars, mourning, their lights on like tears. How many of these have I seen, being impatient as the line monotonously drives by? Now a part of one, I see it through different eyes. Community. Love. Togetherness.

“We will get through this. We loved her, and together we will get through this.”

A casket. It’s a basket for a corpse.

I feel insensitive.

But it’s what I think of anyway.

Five long hugs for her mom, as she thanks me over and over but for what? Unknown. Beauty.

Going up to Hilary’s friend from high school. “She talked about you all the time.” Holding him in a hug as he loses composure and breaks down. Beauty.

“Do-Re-Mi” playing over the slideshow during calling hours. Beauty.

The Harry Potter references that made us all smile: ‘Riddle’ funeral home, the hearse had ‘Kingsley’ written on the side, ‘Always’ on the flowers. Beauty.

Unintentional purple ink. Beauty.

Hilary.

“Back to reality.” What does that even mean? As if this period isn’t reality.

People die. Reality.

Hilary is dead. Harsh reality.

The numbness I feel. Reality.

Grief. What a strange experience. How very human. 


Always unfinished.

In Memoriam

Hilary--

I wasn’t expecting that phone call last night,

The one that said you were gone.

(Wearing our springy, lacy dresses

tied in at the waist,

putting flower crowns in our hair.)

Tears bled from my eyes

I slept in my parents’ bed

But no sleeping was had

Just sat.

And thought.

(You show me this rock down by the river.

It’s your favorite spot

My heart is happy.)

You’ve shined so bright, my dear friend.

So bright for so short of a time

Like a beautiful firework,

Exploding joy and laughter, and then gone.

(We roll down the tall, grassy field.

You laugh, and I laugh because you’re laughing--

It brings back memories.)

I’m so glad for our last few weeks together

Unspoken forgiveness.

“Let’s grab lunch sometime.”

“Yes! I miss you!”

(We speak of Anastasia, our desire to be

Princesses.

Souls marveling, joyous jumping.

We are free.)

5/16/12  <3

Learning about Learning

Oh, school. My whole life I've been striving to get good grades, to please the teachers and make them like me (was a total teacher's pet over here, not going to lie), to do whatever it took to ace that test, sacrificing living for homework. This entire philosophy got me through grade school, through high school, through my first year of college.


And then this sophomore year of college happened.


I found myself in classes I didn't necessarily care for, realizing that for the first time that I wanted to choose friends over homework because THAT is where life is, and that this was OKAY. It was my own choice, and I suffered the consequences of this. Got an incomplete in one of the classes and have to finish the coursework in the summer...and I'm absolutely dreading it. 


Why? There is no reason that I should be struggling. I most definitely don't deserve this second chance from this professor, yet she gave it to me anyway. Why am I struggling so much? I have the time to do the work, I have the means, I most definitely have the time, but I still am faced with dread when thinking of the endless discussion questions and meaningless books. I'm sure to someone, the course is interesting, but to me...it's like ripping out my fingernails one by one. Everyone has had this struggle with something in their life, I'm sure of it. 


I myself am struggling with wasted time. Why am I studying "insert class here" when I could be helping people, loving on people, learning more about God and pursuing God so that He better equips me to love people? This is the core of my struggle. The struggle of my heart against what is expected of me. 


That's the core of it. My heart and entire being struggling against what is expected of me.
Still not sure what to do with that realization, but it's nice to know.

I'm starting to believe that everyone out there struggles with this concept of our very natures rebelling against what is put in front of us. This is why people find themselves in jobs that they hate, in life situations that they don't like, etc. But do we do anything about it? I sure didn't. I don't know. I want to explore the Bible and see what it has to say about this concept, because I'm sure it does, because it talks about EVERYTHING (which is awesome), I just don't know enough to be able to put anything here. I'm sure it has something to do with patience (which is a wonderful trait that I am just...not there yet) and the fruit of your labor (as in a degree), but it is still a struggle. 

How can I find peace and life in a situation that I don't like. How, during these last two years of school, can I find life, so that it is not merely academics, but that I am living?

This is what this summer is about. Discovery. Learning. Finding balance. Balance is so so so beautiful, and treading in this new adult world makes me feel very unbalanced (because I like control...it happens). Balance. Even the word gives me hope. 

Balance. Where you're fully aware that you could fall to either side and in any direction, yet you remain steady, wobbling slightly, but never falling all the way. So good.  

Tangent Thought:

I miss learning for the sake of learning. I really do. I love learning, and somewhere during this semester I forgot that. I wasn't being nourished with knowledge, and I slipped. You know what my favorite college class so far has been? Sports and Society in Ancient Greece. It was so cool to learn about this entirely different culture, and of the Olympics, and just...everything involved in it. For some reason, that class mattered. We (the students) were explorers of a different culture, and I loved sharing my learnings with family and friends as I told them about the discus, about the nudity in the Olympics, about the tossing of the bread. I miss learning. I miss learning about flowers, and the neighbor down the street. I miss reading books, and how to books. I miss being taught a new skill, and being able to use this new skill to show or help someone else. 


I've been struggling for a long time with academics, if you didn't notice. When I was in high school, I wrote this poem, and I find it appropriate for this post. This poem is still particularly powerful for me. I wrote it while I was taking AP Calculus. I was good at math until Pre-Calculus, then it just slowly went downhill from there. 

How does calculus better me for life?

I don’t see the point (x, y)

I come home and find Mom

Writhing with agony with the news

Of Grandma’s terminal cancer

And I slam on my knees and scream out

“Why God?!  Why?!”

Finding the derivative of “why” won’t give me the correct answer

No cure for Grandma, no way to help Mom through her pain

Even math has its limits

Blessings: An Introduction

Sat by the lake today. So much beauty. The grass was chill, yet not damp. As I looked out on the lake, I saw boats, fishermen, life. Little yellow bugs climbed onto my journal. A little gust of breath was all it took to make them move, as they jumped to the other page. They were no bigger than a pin prick, looking like tiny yellow jumping slugs. I wondered if they were a family, if maybe I was sprawled over a nest of theirs, or if they were traveling to another place, passing by me and saying hello. 

When looking out over the lake, as I was laying down on my stomach, I saw the perspective of the lake from a small animal's point of view. The wheat-like grass framed my vision as I peered into the blue abyss. It was one of those moments that screamed, "TAKE A PICTURE," yet the only picture you have is your mind.

Sometimes I wish my brain was a computer, so that I could take pictures as I see them and recall them later. I wasn't blessed with a photographic memory, and actually tend to forget things quite easily, so sometimes it gets a bit difficult to retain information or sights. But if I could take pictures with my mind...now that would be something!  

The sounds as you sit by the lake are so beautiful--so pure. The birds are chatting away; the water lapping against the sand and the wheat-grass; the applause of the leaves in the trees as the wind caresses them. It's so beautiful. So true. So loving. It's in moments like these that God reveals Himself to me. The little moments. The little nuances. The little blessings.

This blog is an exploration of my thoughts as I travel through this thing called life. Everyone is on their own journey, and we all deal with that differently. I LOVE sharing stories, and struggle when I'm journaling, because I can't share my stories with anyone. I'm also aware that it's a nuisance if I share too much, so blogging seems to be a happy medium. If anything I write about strikes your fancy, get a hold of me. Let's talk about life, about spirituality. We're all adventuring together, after all, and that's the beautiful thing. :)

It is so good, this thing called life.

It's also extremely frustrating, but I believe that that is part of the fun. 

Mmmm...yes. It's official; I like blogging. :)