For Pax and Arrow

Today is my first mother’s day

but my children have come and gone

leaving me a mother with no babes.

They were never born.

They never took a breath

but they were living,

their blooded pumped in tiny veins.

Twice my heart has leapt with joy

Twice my soul has mourned,

I will never hold them here on earth

Imagination has taken over

pattering feet,

laughter,

gender,

sweet voices,

eyes,

and hearts,

all that I will not know.

A mother robbed left only to dream

Of little ones she will not kiss.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“They are with our heavenly father.”

“You’ll have a baby someday.”

I do not want reasons.

I wish I could have shown them

our beautiful world,

And seen them play with their earthly father.

Others may come, but these left holes

that cannot be filled.

My heart grieves still as my mind races

Why me?

Why both?

How could God allow this?

Where is your faithfulness God?

I cry with the psalmists,

Have I been forgotten?

My hand still reaches for them

but the spot they had their only moments is empty

and scarred.

Then my hand reaches to my heart,

the only place my children remain in me.

My God lives there too,

as love for all three pulse through me

and tears swell.

I am not alone.

This is my hope.

This mother’s day I will get out of bed.

I will hold the clothes and stuffies that bear their names.

I will cry as I seek my husband’s embrace.

Then I will try to be thankful to our God.

But I will celebrate with and for all mothers,

for the ones who have theirs to love

and those who have lost their precious ones.

I will go through my day one foot after another.

I will whisper my children’s names on my heart

And let them escape to my lips.

I will thank my God for them.

For though their lives were short,

all my love has cascaded upon them

and they have been imprinted onto me

forever.

And I will miss them,

Oh how I miss them,

My children.

Broken

The past semester I have been a practicum student at an agency that works in transitional housing for men and women who have come out of  the criminal justice system, addiction, health issues, abuse and mental illness. My fellow student and I really didn't have a "task" or an ongoing project.  We were there to be present with people, talk with them, help them with the "basics" (cooking, computer issues, doing homework, etc.) The best thing we got was hanging out with them especially through conversation. I learned about pain and beauty. When I was suppose to turn in my final report about agency policies, my skills, the daily activities and vocational goals, it was extremely hard to write. I learned so much more than all that, so I wrote  the following first....

I have started realizing that the more broken and the more struggles someone has faced, the more precious they are. Maybe it’s because I can’t comprehend their pain, maybe it is because I want to hold them up and give them everything good so that I can see their smiles, maybe it is Jesus living through me or maybe I am ignorant. All I know was that I was going in to a practicum thinking I was going to see the “worst of humanity” and ended looking at myself. Poetic irony? Perhaps. All I know is that those people are stronger than I am, but society says I am more put together. Put together does not equal strength. It only means that I know how to act on the stage with everyone else and had people who prompt me up there. The lady who was sold for sex for some cigarettes nightly by her mother is more beautiful than I am. How have I come to this conclusion? She was able to escape because she knew that she was worth more than that even though she had no one showing her and I am constantly trying to find my worth in my school, my marriage, my relationships, my status, my service and my performance. I have so much going for me and so many people rooting for me and I am still trying to find my worth and who I am. She was able to find it, saying “This is who I am” and she is “more messed up”. She has found beauty in distress and has “taken the good” out of the bad. Society says I am better than her, but society is wrong.

I have met people who are rapists, murderers, thieves, bank robbers, bomb makers, drug addicts and alcoholics. And I love being around them. It doesn’t make sense, does it? I haven’t even wrapped my head around it. Some people have thought I was crazy being okay sitting next to an ex-leader of one of the largest gangs in the world who has shot and hurt many. But I love him, his hurt is deeper than mine and it’s attractive to my soul, not in some sick sadistic way but in a humble way. I can learn so much from him, he has so much to offer but no one cares or no one listens. At the end of my practicum, I can throw out all of these psychology theories about why these people are where they are, what happened in their childhood that made them captives to their circumstances, and although there may be truth in that, it is not that truth that changed me. These people, their stories, their acceptance of ME and my acceptance of THEM, taught me more than any textbook could. I now understand why Jesus hung out with the worst because somehow, the worst is the best and the kingdom should be made up of the broken. Broken is beautiful, it’s a twisted truth, but it’s a beautiful one.

 “While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and “sinners” came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does you teacher eat with tax collectors and “sinners”?”

            On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means.’ I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Matthew 9:10-12

If you ask me how I am doing. I would say just fine.... and that would be the truth.

I am still saving my pennies and dimes, trying to brainstorm about how I can make a better tomorrow, when I should just focus on today and being the best Faith Melody Kelley that God gave the world.

I still put off my homework and studying for midterms till the last seconds and let stress/adrileraine push me to the end when I had plenty of time between my day dreaming, surfing cute animals on youtube, trying to touch my nose with my tongue and writing this blog entry.

I would still much rather be anywhere else than north America. Morocco would be ideal but any country outside this Continent would work, heck, put in Antarctica.

I am planning my wedding and finding out that I don't have the detailed mind that a bride should have... I don't give a f#$(%&)#%&) if the table cloths are white, off white or creme. Whatever is easier, looks good and cheaper. What are the Maid of honor and best man going to wear? I don't really care. Just put me down an aisle that runs towards Colin Friesen and I will be the happiest bride ever. * however I am super thankful for my parents and future in-laws for helping out and being great support and keeping us on track with planning

Me and Jesus? Well, its a lot of Jesus workin' but I be a slackin'. He keeps challenging me and I keep breaking and failing but I am determined to fail better cuz my God is worth failing for.

Well, I gotta a paper I should probably write before I sacrifice another year off my life due to stress.

Peace out

Phayth

Chili for breakfast

Well folks,

I wanted to wake up early today so i set my alarm for 8:30 (yes that is early for me...be jealous). When it violently woke me up, I started my daily war of waking up vs. sleeping in. I always gave in to sleeping in and I could feel myself slipping. I couldn't slip today; I had things that I needed too! But I was falling back asleep! I quickly went to the tv turned it on and watched I love lucy. It was only afterwards when I realized that I defeated the purpose of getting up early and actually wasted over 30 minutes of time.

I had chili and cornbread for breakfast today like at 9:30. I actually have milk this week so I could have had cereal.  I also had eggs that are going to go bad soon...but I choose left over chili and cornbread. I am still not sure why. Perhaps it is was the easiest thing to reach without moving things around in the refrigerator.

I also had some really strong coffee. The night before I made the coffee pot ready and put my alarm by it so when I wake up to a nasty alarm I could just turn on my coffee maker. However, there was a mishap and my coffee drainy thingy in my pot got clogged and the coffee sat in the top for 20 minutes with all of the grounds (so happy for my crazy good starbucks skills). I still proceeded to drink that coffee practically feeling the hair growing on my chest. It was kinda chunky with grounds too. I could have thrown it out and made a new pot...but I didn't.

So there I was in my PJ's thinking, "this morning could have been better". I could have gotten up and actually done something. I could have made an awesome egg and bagel breakfast (even though my fiance makes it much better) and good coffee. Do I have the spiritual gift of Laziness or what?

I know, I know, it is not a spiritual gift. It is more like a curse. If it requires any effort I avoid it like the plague.. BUTTTTTT maybe being the lazy is not the issue with my "I love lucy", chilli, and bad coffee morning. PERHAPS, it is because I am poor. I didn't want to have my chili go bad and didn't want to waste it (just forget what I said earlier about my eggs about to go bad) and I didn't want to waste coffee because everything is so bleepity bleep expensive here.... just don't mind the fact that I don't like coffee in the first place and hardly ever drink it. Now, maybe I can find a poor excuse for watching I love lucy (pun intended thank you very much)

okay, okay, I am lazy. well...I am poor too. I have had the humbling experience of getting crazy amounts of canned food from a church that I don't go to because I was on the list of poor people that church goers their knew and I count my pennies every morning hoping I have enough for the bus rather than trying to find a ride to school or worse.....biking. Man, Biking is so hard and it sucks especailly when it is cold and there is FREAKING SNOW OUTSIDE! oh wait, I am back to being lazy.

well, all of this to say... well nothing. I just wanted people to know that I had chili for breakfast and I didn't even fart today.

"I'll always use you"

I have this image of me laying down with my arms and legs spread out like a star on the Sahara sands. If I were able to move my head from facing the blaring sun I would only see dunes surrounding me. My sandy lips are screaming for water and my lungs are panting for more air. There is a castle near by, surrounded by water, in fact, I use to live there. All I needed was within that castle; I am royalty and the king longs for me. But alas, here I am. I lost my footing and ended up here.

For the past couple months, maybe even years, this is where my spiritual life has been. I know where I belong, but I feel dry and lost.

But my King is faithful. Here I am laying in the desert wondering where I will find my water and he speaks to me. He brings friends and conversations, images of his desire for the two of us, and he gives me hope that I am still his.

This happened today when a friend came by to chat and I realized that this week The Faithful One has taught me so much. He has spoken to me three random things, all that I needed to hear as I was saying them (in most cases, to someone else.)

1. If you live simply. that allows God to be shown even more glorious.
2. You'll never be the "Ideal Christian"so stop comparing yourself to impossible "idealized Christian" and set your eyes on Jesus, run towards him instead. He needs to be your goal.
3. Don't try to Separate God from school work but ask him to reveal himself to you through your learning, assignments and work.

I had a humbling moment when I realized how God spoke all these things through me. I knew as I was saying them that this is not coming from me (who is broken and weak) but from the spirit of my father that is still with me.

You may or may not agree with what I listed but I know that it was what I needed to hear to be encouraged and for my friend. Our conversation was a blessing to both of us (for she in turn uplifted me).

The point I am trying to make, my friends, is... "The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it." (1 thess 5:24) Praise him from where all blessing flow. He sustains us and pursues us even when we are surrounded by dunes blinded by the sun.

Sincerely,
The Desert Princess

past my bedtime

I find myself having an inner conflict. Yes, a conflict. There are two parts within me battling to win this fight. This battle is one that involves two distinct selves: my African self and my Canadian self (the irony is that my true blooded A-mur-ican self is dormant as usual).

oh right, is battle is about weather. So here is the thing, I die in the cold. Today, it literally felt like a frozen hell devoured my soul. But... if it snows more then there is no school. Can you guess what part the African Faith and the Canadian Faith wants?

This leads me to my second topic to talk about... (suspenseful sound effects here)

Boobs. (if you think really hard you could probably think of the connection)

I am glad that I have your attention.

One of the best thing about being in Psychology is that I get to take a course on Human Sexuality. In the first class, my professor asked a basic question, " what do men usually look at when the see women?"

Now, I am not a man (Praise Jesus) but I am not stupid (despite my horrible grammar). I was not fooled by the awkward silence in the class that was broken when a male student answered, "Their face?"

Hmmm, good one, sly kid in the front with dorky glasses surrounded by attractive female students. This answer along with others simular to it were clearly not what my prof was looking for.

So, I loudly, in a nonchalant way, declared, "Boobs!" My proffesor who is a middle aged man turns to me, lowers his eyebrows and replies "They are called breasts."

I shut up for the rest of the class, not because I felt stupid or ashamed but because I was fairly confused. Was I being disrespectful to my gender by calling breasts boobs? Is that a term that disgraces the female body? After much thought, I don't think so. I cannot think of the last time my friends and I referred to our ladies as "breasts". Maybe it is an age thing... prehaps when our grandmothers were younger and brushed their friend's money makers without meaning too, they called them accidental "breast grabs" instead of "boob grabs" (that is normal in university, right?)

Yes, I do think the word breasts is a more formal/medical term. Usually, when breasts are referred too I think of Breast Cancer or Breast feeding. I don't think I will be in a clinic anytime soon where the Doctor tells you he needs give you a check up for boob cancer or young mothers ask each other how boob feeding is going. This only produces unwanted graphic images.

Boob is a great word. How many words actually resemble their meaning. Win 1 for the double "oo's"!

Well, Tomorrow I start the challenge. I got a overwhelming amount of feedback from my family and friends on facebook. At first I was really excited as I started to write them all down on a piece of paper...until I saw that I had 66 suggestions and counting. It would be impossible for me to do them all! I am having to sort though them all and pick the ones that I should do. Which means forcing myself to pick hard ones, not just the smaller ones. But I also face the problem of thinking I am invincible and giving myself to much. I want this challenge to be something that I can finish but at the same time be something that I have to work at completing. I think I will have a hard time watching my regular tv shows this week :)

Amoung the ones that are already on my list.

Eat with a homeless person
Hike Multnomah Falls
Eat a huge dairy queens soft ice cream and pay for the person behind me
Pretend I know a random person
Write a anomymous appreciation note
Visit a retirement home and read to someone
Buy a hundred Starburst candies at target while wearing my star trek uniform
Make a a starburst chain with 100 wrappers
Sleep under the stars
Try on 11 prom dresses take pictures
Read and write about "Brave new world" by Aldous Huxley
Read a whole newspaper, write notes
Watch a old sci fi movie
Teach myself to change a tire
Learn my favorite song on guitar
Learn and video my attempts on Tuvan Throat singing
Boycott things made in China for the 20 days
Meet 20 people
write 20 reasons why i am glad I am a christian
Prepare a five course meal
paint a picture

There still might be more if people continue to post some good ones. But I think this is a great starter list. Some will be a lot harder for others, but I am hoping for the best and that It will be fun!