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Showing posts from 2011

this is what i'm here for.

a book.

i've heard about this book for a couple of years now, but never had it in my hands.
someone unintentionally put it in my hands this past sunday so i've started the journey through. be on the lookout for snip-its here and there from me.
i have a feeling it's going to be liberating.

"Because it is a distortion of being more fully human, sooner or later being less human leads the oppressed to struggle against those who made them so. In order for this struggle to have meaning, the oppressed must not, in seeking to regain their humanity (which is a way to create it), become in turn oppressors of the oppressors, but rather restorers of the humanity of both..."
"...Only power that springs from the weakness of the oppressed will be sufficiently strong to free both..."
pg. 44, Paul Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed


Erin just sent me the link to a series of photographs, depicting life in Mongolia. The pictures are hard. They are simple. They depict life. They are real.
Check them out here.
Let me know what you think.

an ant story.

it won't be as cute as a baby story, on tlc, but it is a story.
a story of a family. a colony. scavengers.
this, my friends is the story of the ants who took up residence in my work desk drawer.
it's a friday afternoon and i was thinking of a snack from my food drawer [yes, i have a food drawer].
i knew i had some rice cakes in there and i was hungry for just that.
as i opened the door, my mouth flung ajar, for what did i see but a million ants. that's right, a million.
i had seen ants all morning, here and there, but not enough to be alarmed. i thought they were the lone rangers--exploring out on their own. little did i know, they were scouting out the rest of the desk for crumbs and goodies.
i looked at the ants for probably a minute straight--doing nothing, simply mesmerized by their pure existence.

i snapped back into reality and tried to find the source...what were they after?!
it sure wasn't the rice cakes because there wasn't even a single one on them [not sure …


as often as you can, find time to sit on porches, sharing and laughing.

"...a vital piece of luggage..."

3 months. 90 days. just yesterday. forever.

It has been 3 months since I left mongolia. Some days it feels like I was there just yesterday while others it feels like these have been the longest 3 months of my life.

I neglect writing about this painful time because I still can't seem to find the right words that could describe the emotions and thoughts that I have.

No words suffice.

No amount of tears calm.

No hugs or "it's gonna get better"s really change much.

I ache. I long to be in that place again.

Yesterday, Erin and I were talking about what we say and think when people ask 1. "If we miss Mongolia?" and 2. "What do we miss the most?"

If you know us at all, you know that the first question will hardly make us pause, it will cause us to chuckle and say, "Yes, I miss Mongolia desperately." And that is the truth. Which always leads to the second question. Which is harder to answer.

I usually give the answer "The people are what I miss the …

people like this...

I'm thankful for people like this...

...who give with joy.

people that know we're all connected.

that know that one day we might be the one needing help.

The Pioneer Woman is giving $.25 for each comment left on her post to the relief efforts from the recent tornadoes in my beloved state.

...on top of that, she's giving 4 $500 donations to those comment's favorite organizations.

go. comment.

ebb. ebb. ebb.

from a book i'm reading...
"well, learning to pray and communicate from the present seat of your emotions is part of learning to be awake and aware of life around you and within you. You are a very intelligent [person], (insert name), but sometimes we can get addicted to our minds just like an alcoholic becomes addicted to the bottle to cope. Sometimes we can overanalyze God's presence in our lives, always looking for sings to interpret. Sometimes the most faithful prayers are the questions we bring to God."
-pg. 67, Reluctant Pilgrim by: Enuma Okoro
questions are more than ok. not feeling present where you are is more than ok. mourning and grieving are more than ok. what's not ok is staying there. there is no time in our life in which we are supposed to stay exactly the same. we move back and forward. we ebb and flow [i'm never gonna quit bringing that up]. we are supposed to because that's how we change.
and if you're like me, i don't want to stay…
hiatus is a bit of an understatement, i would say.
it's been more than a while since i updated.
i have packed up, cleaned up, flown across the world, debriefed, unpacked, started cleaning and pretended to re-pack since i last wrote. that's a lot of packing...
i would assume you would be able to gather from the "flown across the world" part that i am no longer in Mongolia. i am now in America. it's hard to believe.
since march 5th i have been America figuring life out, again. on the 7th of april [next thursday] i will be moving to Washington DC.
in the days, hours, minutes...seconds since march 5th i have been desperately trying to find the words to speak about the place i have come to call home.
Mongolia. not something you can sum up in words and not something that i can process in x days.
so, there's the purpose for the hiatus. i am literally and painfully wordless about what it means to be here.
the reason i'm writing today is that i think the words are st…

and they filled my heart.

fill the cups. fill the bowls. fill the table. fill the moon. but most of all fill your stomach.
fill may not even be sufficient enough of a word. the correct words translated mean to fill your stomach until it feels like it's going to come back up. gross, right? and who wants to fill your stomach with mayonaise-y salads and boiled little dumplings? oh that's right, everyone in Mongolia does. including me. above all else, i just love to be with them, doing whatever it is that they do.
as tsagaan sar approached, the weeks before were absolutely full of talk about meat and where to buy the cheapest. not actually that uncommon of a topic around here...
then it came to the week and i began to wonder what gifts i needed to prepare, the houses i would visit, the people i would get to celebrate with. i was excited like a little kid right before christmas.
we were here last year at the time of tsagaan sar and we even celebrated but we really had no real understanding of it all. we were…

snuggly wuggly.

no, that isn't a tiny bear. but it is cute.
my [church] dog finally had her puppies. they will be a month old next week and they are literally the roundest, most snuggly things i've ever laid eyes on. i'm so proud of their momma, joni.
any thoughts on good names?

snipits are all your gettin'

if it has not become apparent to you, then i'll spell it out for you...i hate writing blogs.
i've heard it said [though i don't actually believe it] that when i take the time to sit down and write a blog, it's pretty good but my life just keeps getting in the way.
my fabulous roommate balances both, living life and writing about it but i, on the very opposite other hand, do not.
i like living. just living. there are tons of thoughts and happenings that occur in that living, some that are quite worthy of sharing and writing about, however, more times than not, that doesn't pan out.
i'm sorry if you are one of my many, many followers. i'm sorry for letting you down. i'll be sure to let you down gently by posting pictures and a blog-to-blow-you-away every so often.
it's best to keep you all on your toes, that's my motto.
for today, i'll leave you with these snipits:
the symbol of tsagaan sar. more to come.
my youngest sister with the cutest puppy t…