ephnastie

Names

2009-09-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

In the past few years I have notice a habit of mine whenever I enter into a leadership position. One of the first things I do is find out the names of the people I do not know. Next, I make sure that everyone I do know knows the name of the new person as well. Why? Well, I think there is a certain significance in names and speaking them aloud that most of us have not realized.

Lots of people know my name, but when I think about it, very few of them actually say it. Most days my name is just used as an attention grabber. If my boss says my name, I know she has a job for me to do.
Strangely enough though, when most people call me out by name... it makes me feel special... significant. When I was in high school there was one girl that, even though I did not know her all that well, would always say "Hi Stephanie!" as she passed me in the hall. Something about how she always cared enough to not only say hi every time she saw me, but also care enough to remember my name always had me leaving happier.

So when I get back into that leadership position, I figure it doesn't take a lot of effort and still somehow is very effective in showing how I care just by remembering people's names.

What To Do If Pavlov Has Turned Against You

2009-09-30T11:15:00.000-07:00

In high school I would always procrastinate on my english papers, leaving them until the very last second. That sounds normal, right? Every kid does that! Unfortunately, I inherited from my father the need to make all of my work the VERY best I can possibly make it. The night before any paper would be due was, therefore, a long one. So I ended up sort of creating a paper-writing tradition of wake-me-up music and all-nighters glued to a glowing screen.

This is the only way I can write a decent paper now. I try to start my work early, but when the sun is out my writing abilities vampiric-ly whisk away and out of sight. If I sit down at my computer in the middle of the day with the intentions of "writing my paper," somehow I will end up on facebook, blogging (Can you guess what I should be doing right now?), or checking my email. When I realize that has failed, sometimes I try to move to hardcopy, hoping this will be more productive; distractions still find me. I'll clean my room, inhale all the snacks I can find (this reminds me of a spongebob episode...), and even do other homework. Only when darkness seeps into my workspace and the deadline is fast approaching, does my prowess return to narcissistically take it's moment of glory.

How to be proactive when I get assigned my next english paper:
Option 1 - During the day, I should finish extra homework, clean my room, and take a long nap to prepare for the evening ahead of me. Then, once the sun is down, I can enter into the atmosphere that I trained myself to write in.
Option 2 - Trick myself. Pull down the blinds in my room and make myself think that my essay is due the next day.

Timeworn

2009-08-30T19:57:00.001-07:00

I fell in love with all things antique and vintage today, as well as all the adventures I am led into. I had planned on knocking off all of the items on my list of errands, but I was gladly interrupted by my sense of adventure. One moment I was driving purposefully, and the next I find myself pulling into an old beaten up parking lot littered with antique shops. I walked in through the crowded doorways of each shop, ambled down each aisle, and perused each antediluvian piece. I wondered who's fingers had held them before, I wondered if they had been cherished or disregarded, I wondered if I would like them. Everything I passed had a story and a sense of wisdom. It was like these thing had seen more years than I had, and they could share with me all the secrets they had learned over time. Some taught of Simplicity and Peace, others taught of intricate Beauty. They spoke of different times when the values that were upheld back then showed in all crafts.

My Circumstancial Baggage

2009-08-30T19:56:00.003-07:00

I had a whole supplementary set of beliefs when I was dating. They were my essentials that I would carry with me like a suitcase; rules of conduct that I had to follow, test and, temper in order to remain sane and keep a quite heart. I wouId pack and repack those "bags" until I knew what I really needed to carry with me. I don't really remember what is in those bags now, but I get flashes of what I packed when people tell me about their relationships and how they and their significant other acts towards one another. Honestly, when I hear those stories, most times I get a little prickling in the back of my mind with a message attached saying, "That's not the way to make each other happy! That goes against my rules. Believe me, I tried it the other way and I KNOW it doesn't work! It just makes the journey harder and the two of you will only find misery ... They must not know what to pack and what to leave behind."
Then I remember those times that taught me "the rules" and I feel an amalgam of sweet remembrance as well as melancholy because it is all but a faded memory, but then... relief. I no longer have to manage that extra load... I can walk freely with both of my hands free and my back straight and unencumbered.

One day I may have to pick up these beliefs again, and I am sure I will do it joyfully. But for now? I will relish in simplicity and my light load. I will take things slowly, stopping to see the sights and enjoy everything around me! For now, those bags will stay static in the back of my closet until a gentle kiss awakens them and the next journey begins.

What Have I Really Learned From All This Pain?

2009-08-15T00:40:00.000-07:00

I've learned how important it is to not try and protect yourself if you have made a mistake. Don't hide from the consequences just because they might be painful to you. No matter how big or small the conflict, if I am the offender I will strive to be the first one to say so, and the last to think so. If I do not take responsibility for the pain I cause then it torments the victim even more.

Thanks for the lesson. I promise I will not listen to Bitterness, Self-Pity, or Resentment.

Why Old People Drive So Slow

2009-07-30T15:05:00.001-07:00

* They no longer feel the pressures of the world around them since they no longer have a job that demands their attendance everyday from 9 to 5
* Over the years they have finally learned how to appropriately guess how long it will take them to get places, giving them plenty of time to drive to their desired destination safely, yet still 15 minutes early
* They know how to stop and smell the roses, and driving in a rush is not how to do it
* They figure, "Who knows how much longer I have here on earth, so why take the risk of ending life earlier than mother nature intended by driving recklessly??"
* The world they grew up in was much slower. Today's high-speed world in comparison is stressful, hectic, overly complex, and taken for granted, so they do their own part in trying to slow this fast-paced society down by slowing up traffic

Growing Up

2009-07-29T22:12:00.000-07:00

I never thought it'd feel like this.

Most kids my age are excited to get out of their parents house and live on their own... I guess I never really thought about it. Maybe my lack of thinking about the future is what has left me feeling so despondent. I didn't adequately prepare myself for this huge step.
I've never been alone with myself for so long. It feels like it's just me against the world. Coming home to an empty house, knowing I will wake up alone is... gloomy. Maybe one day I will see it in a happier light. I might learn to see myself as Superman returning to his Fortress of Solitude. But at the moment I dunno if I like this whole I-live-on-my-own-and-I-don't-need-anyone gig. I know people that missed their families after they first left home, but then after awhile just grew indifferent. Confiding to them my longing to return to the comfort of home only got me comments of how sooner or later I would just get over it and stop missing my loved ones completely. But why would I want to disengage myself from that? I spent 18 years of my life depending on people, and that vulnerability nurtured true and honest community that I had never before realized. I was really close to my family, and now I have to detach myself from them just so I can learn to be an adult?? I haven't even come to the point in my life where I want to become an adult! So I move from one place to the next, unwillingly giving up my innocence. I am giving up the strong bonds I have formed with people I have know my whole life. I am giving up the comfort of a loving home. I am trading it all for a measly title of maturity chained to solitariness.

Welcome to the real world, I guess.

Letter

2009-07-20T11:17:00.001-07:00

To the brave souls who find the will to wake up every morning in a world full of hate, secrecy, and darkness:

My brothers and sisters, in this life there are so may things to run to when the road gets rough. When your frailty looms in front of you and there are still trials and conflicts to conquer where do you go? Do you run to your God? Your drugs? Your work? Your friends? Your drink? Your bed?

We all fail. Our history paints the ineptness of our race clearly. Falling is inevitable, but may we fall on something sound. If our refuge becomes our oppression then we are in a worse state than we thought. Test these thing that pull you into their arms of temporary relief.

I long to see your face shine with a real lasting joy. Walk in wisdom & peace, friends.

Answers

2009-07-20T11:15:00.001-07:00

Everyone is searching for answers. Answers for marriage problems, economic problems, political problems, family problems, psychological problems, emotional problems, attitude problems... All looking. And every answer that comes up seem to be the right one, but one by one they all fall through. Why? Because they are skin deep.

I see things a little differently. And the place where I have found the answer to all my problems is the last place people want to look.

Jesus.

My friend was telling me about how she was having a hard time coping with the debris left by a broken relationship. She was searching for strength in herself and always found herself coming up short. All I could think of was Jesus.

In my last class of they day the kids started discussing the ever-increasing percent of divorce rates in this county. The teacher asked if they thought there should be more restrictions to get divorced or married. They all had their own opinions and ideas but every solution had a serious flaw. They had a hard time finding the middle ground that everyone could agree to. All I could think of was Jesus.

"'Well- be it foolish or not- when I touch this Robe [a symbol for the spirit of Christ] it- it does something to me,' stammered Demetrius. 'If I am tired, it rests me. If I am dejected, it revives my spirit. If I am rebellious over my slavery, it reconciles me. I suppose that is because- when I handle his Robe- I remember his strength- and courage." pg 131-132 The Robe

On the Mountain Top

2009-07-20T11:12:00.000-07:00

Every blade of grass that grows,
Every tree and leaf and rose,
Everything my eye can see knows You.
You touched, You healed, You created all I see
You touched, You healed, You created me

What's Wrong With the World?

2009-07-20T11:11:00.000-07:00

I desire healing, hope, honesty,unity...
I want someone else to care about
how my heart and spirit are really doing!
Who has the time? Who asks?
Who really wants to know?

Silence.

The question turns
Do I have the time, desire,
and questions for others?
To find the change I desire
I must first become the change.

What's wrong with the world?

Me.

Hideous

2009-07-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

A pain that makes my breath intake tremble
Any logical solution I can think of
comes out in lecture to some
and yet hidden by fear from others.
My gentleness vanishes with my feelings of deprivation
and yet my eyes are drawn down and feel sad endurance.
Deep pains hidden by shallow entertainment.

I will lift my eyes to the Healer

Charlie

2009-07-20T11:07:00.000-07:00

I cannot deny it. I am very childish. My favorite shows are for kids. One of my favorites is a brilliant program on Playhouse Disney called Charlie and Lola. I guess most of the entertainment, for me, are their brilliant British accents, but I cannot deny that I do honestly appreciate the moral aspects of the show as well. Charlie is THE perfect brother!

Lola, being a normal little girl, has moments of child-like anger, selfishness, and mistakes, and Charlie has to find the right way to handle her. Charlie deals with these situations in a way that would melt the heart of any mother; gently and sweetly. In situations where normal kids would whine, complain, or yell at his or her little sister, Charlie laughs and encourages his Lola.

Lovely.

Water.

2007-07-12T23:15:00.000-07:00

I look at the water. I see it because there is light. I can see how it moves by the shadows created in it, on it, near it, by it.
I can see God in all things around me. I see His shadow and impressions in all His creation.
The water moves in mysterious ways. I don't know how it works. It's just there.
He moves in mysterious ways.
When in it, it is so clear that you can see yourself and parts are magnified. Above it you can see your reflection in it's glittering surface.
God shows you who you really are.
When emerged in it you are clean. You can move easier in it. You feel lighter
He cleans me and takes my burden.
Drink it and it refreshes you.
He refreshes my soul.

Classical

2007-01-21T08:54:00.000-08:00

The world seems less chaotic when you are listening to classical music. It has a rhythm, a planned end. There is beauty in every note no matter how loud or soft it is. The music intensifies then abates ever so gracefully. Ever measure has a purpose.

Our lives have a certain rhythm. Many different seasons but they all contain beauty and have a purpose. We have a Conductor to lead us through who knows every beat, every note. He wrote our lives out this way to inspire, glorify, and to make beauty.

Energy

2006-08-15T15:36:00.000-07:00

The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy can be absorbed and released, but it cannot be created or destroyed. It simply assumes a different form.

This reminds me of God. We didn't make Him, we cannot destroy Him. We can absorb Him and release Him to others, we can accept Him or reject Him, but He is still there. I think God's energy is in all of us, just in different forms. Like my good friend C.S. Lewis once said, "God has impressed some sort of likeness to Himself, I suppose, in all that He has made."

A Grief Observed

2006-08-04T21:05:00.000-07:00

I was reading C.S. Lewis the other day.

" 'She is in God's hand.' That gains new energy when I think of her as a sword. Perhaps the earthly life I shared with her was only part of the tempering. Now perhaps He grasps the hilt; weighs the new weapon; makes lightning with it in the air. 'a right Jerusalem blade.' "

May we temper each other.

we are not just dust.

2006-08-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

"the LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." Genesis 2:7

The fact that God made us from dust is so humbling! How much can dust be worth? How much can it do? But then you go back to read that God breathed into the dust to bring us life. We are part of the Creator. At the beginning we were nothing but then... something beautiful happened.

But then I think that people today can't be all that bad if they have a breath of God in them. Maybe the dust takes some people over...

actuality

2006-07-17T21:11:00.000-07:00

Vous avez mon coeur et mon esprit.
Vous m'aimez quand personne ne me veut.
Vous comprenez mon coeur.
Vous voyez ma misère et vous m'aidez.

Vous voyez mes erreurs mais vous m'acceptez et m'utilisez.
Vous éliminez mes ennuis et dégagez mon esprit préoccupé.
Vous offrez l'espoir quand tout est noir.
Vous ouvrez mon coeur.

Vous m'avez acheté à un prix élevé.
Mais vous avez dit que je n'ai pas besoin de vous rembourser.
Je veux crier parce que de la joie que vous me donnez.
Je veux voler à votre maison dans le ciel.

J'ai peur de ne pas vous avoir .
Je brûle pour vous.
Chaque minute je tombe plus profond amoureux de vous.
Respirez dans moi.

Ecclesiasties 11:7

2006-06-27T17:18:00.000-07:00

"Oh, how sweet the light of day,
And how wonderful to live in the sunshine!"

music

2006-06-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

I always get the impresssion that no one else feels the same way I do when listening to music, but maybe everybody else is thinking the exact same thing.
I love it when the chord progression is so flawless that it makes you want to melt, or when the harmony matches the melody so completely that you sit back entranced. But I think, above all else, what makes a song truely great is how much truth is inscribed in it.

brainless goings-on/heartless drones

2006-06-27T14:29:00.000-07:00

Writing my thoughts (or typing them) makes me feel a little silly. I feel like a simple-minded teenage girl that scribbles all over her diary about the newest boy she is crushing on, or how her parents aren't giving her enough allowance to buy that super sweet pair of pants she saw at the mall. But it always gives me a great release. Like I can some how clear my head of all of my qualms, aspirations, miffs, and joys that grow into my encumbrance. This my guilty pleasure.

I'm hoping that this doesn't turn into the brainless goings-on of a simple-minded teenage girl, even if that is my true identity. But I also don't want it to become heartless drones of an amateur trying to hard.