Disturbed

I walked into Place Riel on the U of S Campus a few days ago. As soon as the doors had cleared my view, I was met with a most disturbing sight: two scantily-clad ladies making out on a bed. On possibly the hugest poster in the world. Right in front of the door for everyone to see when they walked in, unsuspecting.
Yes, I had definitely arrived at the U of S poster sale.
Don't get me wrong, most of it was great and clean and nice. I bought two posters and Megan bought three. But unfortunately, my biggest memory of that event was how disgustingly depraved this world has become, flaunting a huge image like that as if everyone would want to see it...as if everyone was a pervert who wouldn't mind having that image slap them in the face as they walked in. I won't deny it makes me mad just thinking about it. We live in a sick, sick world full of sick, sick ideas.

Rude Awakening

This morning I woke up at 10:00 and figured it was time to practice piano. I don't like doing it when anyone else is around because I'm such a perfectionist and I have to go back and fix every little misplayed note, so it ends up sounding fairly obnoxious at times. My room mates were gone; I checked the vehicles in our vicinity to make sure the downstairs boys were gone. Then I broke out into a noisy, passionate rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, literally shaking the piano at the intense part. And suddenly, I heard the shower go on downstairs.
So now I'm like, "Crap, I just woke Andrew up with the worst song ever." Figuring he'd be in a bad mood, I played "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus" to soothe him. Hopefully it worked.
Well, the door/window fixers are here. One of them is a good-looking young man, and here I sit in all my morning glory. I should probably go and do something about my hair. Or eat lunch. Which is more important?

Drivel About Sweetness

I'm pretty sure there is nothing as good as sitting in a coffee shop by yourself on a windy day. I'm the kind of person who is energized by other people (ones I know well enough to be comfortable with, anyway), but I neeeeeed my alone time quite often. This realization has brought me to the conclusion that, besides just the lack of appropriate timing or situation, I'm more than willing to put off parenthood for a bit longer. But that's not the point. The point is, I was getting my oil changed at Midas, and needed to kill forty minutes on 8th Street. So I popped into Starbuck's and got a tall java chip frappuccino and an espresso brownie. I then sat down by one of the windows, enjoying the Ray Charles/Temptations-esque music playing all around me. And I enjoyed inwardly chuckling at people as they said "Whoa" and almost lost the door to the wind as they were entering or exiting the building. It was like a shampoo ad...people's hair suddenly flying up around their faces, except there was no slo mo or shiny gracefulness. More like the annoyance of their locks getting stuck to their lipstick (I guess you could say they were liplocked).
It's all about the simple pleasures...God is good.

Reminiscing

This Thanksgiving was hilarious. We dug out some of the books that Courtney, Naya, and I wrote when we were really little. Here are some titles : "The Boy Who Switched Brains with a Fart", "The Toy that went Psycho" (eventually the word changed to 'fcyco'...Courtney was writing the text), "The Farting Horse" (with a horse that eventually morphs into a ball with spikes), "A Vampire Sees a Garden", "Too Much Violence", and "Tucker and Trixie". The last one even comes with a tape, so you can listen as you read the book! Jannaya and I do an incredible version of "Jesus Loves Me" on that one, with some sweet harmony attempts in a man voice (compliments of moi). I mean, even Zac was laughing his head off. Jenne was laughing, but I'm sure she was secretly wondering how she could quietly sneak out of the family before it's too late. And Mom and Dad...well, I'm just glad we have unconditional acceptance in our family.
On top of all that, Mom showed me some love letters Grandpa Salte had written to Grandma while he was in seminary and they were engaged for four years. It was so sweet! Hard to believe those people were my age once...
Well, until my love letters start arriving, I'll be writing a sequel to "The Farting Horse."

Times of Comfort

Lately I've been struggling with uncertainty about a lot of things, and then I came across something from a really depressed, discouraged time in my life when I'd been running in frantic circles. I started writing it in class without even thinking, and afterwards when I read it, I sensed God's peace come over me in a strong way. It's simply this:

Give me your hand. You can't see what's ahead.
Give me your hand. I won't force you, but can't you see the tears running down my face?
Give me your hand and I will hold on forever -- nothing will make me let go.
Give me your hand and don't be afraid -- when life happens, I will always be here.
My grip never changes -- neither does my heart.

And I was reminded of another tough time when I came into my room and sensed God telling me to just be. Nothing more. So I spent half an hour curled up on the floor, just feeling all that I was feeling and knowing that God was taking my burdens. I started to tell Him about what was going on in my heart, but He already understood it all, so He told me to be silent and just rest in His presence. I came out of that time refreshed and with a newfound sense of God's unorthodox providence. He is so outside of the box, it's incredible! I would never have thought of wordless praying as a way to communicate with Him.