Warm greetings to all—
So: Spaghetti Dinner passed remarkably well! We had a fun night, lots of leftovers (spaghetti at least enough for two dinners = YUM), and made a record for ticket-sales.
Onward and upward! I’m not going to apologize, because I like jumbledy posts, but I will warn you at least that I’m leaving this in my “language”—
I’ve found lately (okay, maybe not just lately but more lately) that my life tends to be jumbledy. And I like jumbledy. Problem: I need more order. I need more, consistent quiet time. I need to be still and listen to God—and my crazy haphazard way of finishing homework and chores leaves me just enough time to check all my email and websites but not enough to seriously think about God.
So I’m cutting out Internet for a week.
Starting tomorrow, I will not get on the Internet except for class. I will not check email, I will not go on websites: I will work on getting life in order. I’m going to see (as someone wiser than I once advised) what taking this out of my system does for me.
So before I take the dive, I’m going to celebrate my jumbledyness for what it is—this season in my life for what it’s been.
First. I just got an amazing new piano piece—Chopin’s Prelude in F# minor, Op. 28, No. 8. It moves me—the whirling, passionate 32nd notes (32nd notes!!! That’s what I said…) make my heart speed up, cause my breath to catch—
I love the piano.
However, my piano teacher groaned when she first saw it… “You HAD to pick the headache piece!!” But then she heard it and converted.
I love the piano.
Second. After reading through Claviger’s screenplay, I was intrigued… I dug out an old short story that could use some touch-ups, and I think it’ll work just fine to turn into a screenplay. I’m eager to see how it stretches me—what it will require of me—what I will require of it. Keep a lookout for The Second Hatchling.
Third. I realized that I’d forgotten some situations that scarred me a couple years ago. And that forgetting allowed me to heal. I’m very thankful for that, but now that I’ve remembered I don’t want to forget where I’ve been.
Fourth. I wonder, why do we need reasons for everything? Why do we to some degree require order of our lives? Why does knowing a person’s motives change our opinion of their actions—whether their actions are right or wrong? What might it say about our natures?
Fifth. My rabbit came running to meet me yesterday—I was so happy that I jumped, and he ran away!
Sixth. I miss all you dear people most dreadfully. I love reading your blog posts and your emails—you seriously make my day. So thank you.
Seventh. I seemed to have failed, after all, to jumble this up—everything’s numbered! Botheration!
Eighth. My dad and I are looking for books about the history of the church—from apostolic times. Basically, we want to study how the church changed from Jesus’ day to ours—where all the denominations separated, etc. Do you know of any?
Ninth. Is anybody going to the Biola University Day? Anybody? Because there is a slight chance that I can go!
Tenth. As I was walking from the garage to the house tonight, a silver sparkle caught my eyes—the moonlight reflected off of the beautiful blue tiles on my mom’s new brick patio—shimmery, water-like: I stopped and stared. It was simply lovely.
Eleventh. I’m quite sure my mother will ask when I posted this. Mommy, it is 9:43 PM, and I love you.
Twelfth. I don’t like Halloween. I don’t like scary Halloween movies, or how scary Halloween movies are the only things on TV on Halloween.
However, I love punkin-carving parties.
Thinking back on this, I probably should have made that thirteenth. Whatever…
May you have a sudden unexpected burst of joy and understanding—
The burd.
