summer without snow

"We don't want bears coming around at night and grabbing one of our girls by the hair, ripping them out of the sleeping bags and shaking them around camp like a rag doll..." Chief Wess concluded after a camp counselor meeting one morning. That image of one of my sweet campers being robbed from her sleeping bag at night and mauled around camp has never left me.

Summer of 2002 I was a substitute camp counselor at a wonderful Christian summer camp in the Colorado Mountains (and you know how easily counselors get sick.... i got to spend quite a few weeks at Id-Ra-Ha-Je that summer). For those of you Coloradans, you can't forget that summer - the summer of the Hayman fires.  I remember  that each morning in Denver we had to brush the fallen ash off of the top of our cars before driving to work. That summer, we had more forest destruction from fires than any other time in Colorado's recorded history. Colorado had been suffering drought for a series of years, which made forest fires a huge danger.

(photo by globemaster3)

With the drought also comes danger from animal predators. Prey is more scarce and so is vegetation, so they become more of a threat to people. That summer we had bear sightings near our camp. One was sighted eating roadkill off of the road....which is guess is alarming bear behavior.

So we were warned. Each week I had a tepee full of about 10 girls 8 -10 years old. We were instructed to take anything that would attract bears away from our campers. Try collecting all flavored chapsticks, body lotions, shampoos, candies, and snacks from 8 year olds spending their only week away from their parents during their summer vacation. How do you convince these girls to give up their goodies without threatening them with being mauled by a bear? I always wondered what they were storing at the bottom of their sleeping bags...

One night I woke to a shuffling in the bushes. I laid in my sleeping bag, trying to peer through the holes in the bottom of the tepee but it was too dark to see anything. I heard movement - and it was apparent that it was an animal of considerable size. The foot steps were heavy, the breathing was loud. I knew that if I had a bear next to my tepee I needed to notify someone - I needed to get it away from our campers. Maybe I could wake my girls - keep them calm and INSIDE of the tepee (bring them away from the open edges) and scream all at once - that would alert the camp and maybe scare away the beast. But I couldn't insure that I could keep them safe and calm-ish if i woke them and told them to scream their heads off.

I got out of my bag quietly and laced my shoes. Making tiny steps in the dark, trying not to step on any of my sleeping girls, I made my way to the tepee door. I  heard the animal's slow heavy steps and deep nasal breathing and as I planned my sprint to the Chief's door, my body started shaking violently - I was absolutely terrified. I listened to the beast as I prayed to God and let my eyes adjust to the forest light... Then from around the side of my tepee it stepped into the moonlight beside me.

A big fat horse. I had no idea that they opened the stables at night for the horses to roam free.

I felt like an idiot. I felt relieved. I couldn't sleep the rest of the night. I grabbed my things and went to my favorite rock, where I spent each morning's sunrise praying and singing and enjoying God and his majestic mountains.

Maggie's blogpost reminded me today of that summer. We are just a bit frightened out here about this Spring weather this early in the year. We really need that dumping of winter snow to keep our forests and our families safe from fires and predators this year. Without a good snowbase, our mountain states get very dry. It affects so much come summer when the snowmelt has already been used up and our streams dry and so do the vegetation leading the animals in desperate search, leading them into our back yards. As a skier, I want snow for the recreation it provides, but as a mountain girl, I am desperate for some snow to sustain us until next winter.

The morning after Halloween night, Landon and I went for a hike on a trail we had never visited before.

We drove into a canyon  tucked into the mountains behind a rural community and monastery. Driving deep into the canyon, we commented on how beautiful this place can be even when the only color we see is brown - the different shades of brown make it such an incredible landscape. We parked outside of an iron gate that was closed. I guess there is a camp there, but we saw no sign of residence. The only indicator of human life outside of us was the Jeep that we parked beside. Landon hid our keys under a rock on the hillside and we crossed the bridge over the river and began our hike deeper into the canyon, through the almost barren trees.

Landon commented on the forest. It was dense and deciduous - something we haven't seen since Illinois. And we liked it. We could tell that the trail had been traveled on. We didn't see any footsteps, but the fallen leaves were a little dirtied and there was horse manure every once in awhile. Although, everything was very quiet. The trail was very muddy in the parts where the sun was able to touch the ground, and completely frozen in the parts that were shaded.

 We should have been hiking beside a stream. But we didn't see it or hear it. We kept walking. Farther into the canyon, beyond hearing and seeing the road, beyond hearing and sight of the camp itself. Deeper into the canyon. We still hadn't seen anyone or heard people at all. Though i was keeping my eye out for others - there was that Jeep...

As our trail started turning and tucked deeper into the trees, i saw Duvick rolling in the dirt on the trail beneath a tree. We ran to see what kind of mischief he was in (we know from experience that a dog rolling in the dirt means one of three things: poop, vomit, or dead things). It was a tiny deer carcass. The pieces were strewn all over. It was mostly bones by now. The body was Duvick's rolling place, the head further down the trail, the leg bones and fur were strewn about. I couldn't believe we had encountered a carcass actually ON the trail.

 Lion, I thought. I tried to remember the lions we saw in Africa. I remembered them hunting, remembered them stalking their prey. Tried to decide how to keep any lions away. But i know that mountain lions are different. They are solitary. I wouldn't know if a lion was stalking us until it was upon us.

We continued deeper into the canyon. I love to try to identify the trees, the flowers, the rocks, and the animal scat. so i tried to concentrate on the smell of the dead and rotting leaves beneath my feet, and the tree branches overhead. What a beautiful world. I came upon what i thought was animal scat. I knew it couldn't be dog or human because it was very furry. After a short analysis of it, we discovered that it wasn't scat at all, but a piece of an animal.

Just up the trail we came upon our second carcass. This one was fresh. It was missing the meat, the guts, but the entire thing was intact, minus a few limbs, and it was still covered in fur. This carcass was similar to the last. It was similar in size, also a deer, and left to rot right on the trail.

At this point I was starting to feel uncomfortable. We continued walking and I looked for jagged stones that i could carry in my hand. i found two that were pointed, thinking that if anything jumped on me, i could jab these rocks into them. To avoid that possibility, i started banging the rocks together periodically as we walked, hoping the loud clacking would echo through the canyon and scare any beasts away.

I then started thinking that maybe there was something worse in this forest. This was the morning after Halloween, after all, and I wondered about any ceremonial or ritualistic sacrifices that could have taken place here. I was hoping that we wouldn't find the owners of the Jeep.

Our trail intercepted a stream and we sat down so Duvick could have a drink. We took our Nalgenes out of our pack to hydrate. I wasn't too thirsty, though. I was distracted by the forest. I remembered from our time in Africa that the best place for the predator to get the prey is at the water hole, and this was the first sign of water we had seen all day. So I smacked my stones together and searched the trees and the surrounding mountain sides. I listened carefully for movement. I heard nothing.

Landon read that this trail would intercept the approach of some wonderful rock climbing deep into the canyon if we only stayed on it for about an hour.

"I'm a little scared," I said. I was trying to master my fear, though. Landon tells me that I need to learn to control my fear (he mostly says this to me when we're rock climbing and I'm near tears when i know i need to make a scary move). I didn't want fear to ruin my day, or his. So I shrugged, "...I just wanted you to know". So far Landon hadn't asked me about the stones I was carrying, and I was too embarrassed to tell him that I was keeping the lions (or whatever else may be in the woods) away. ha. crazy woman.

So we went deeper.

Soon after the trail turned from the stream, I saw Duvick sniffing and licking something beneath a tree. As I approached the dog, my heart started racing at what i saw. Unlike anything i had ever seen before: a gigantic dead carcass. The rib cage was giant. The jaw bone, disconnected from the skull, was as big as my forearm. The femur was long and thick. The skull was covered in a thick fur. a moose, i thought to myself, or a horse.

Lions don't take down moose OR horses.

I wanted to keep moving. I didn't want to stand there. I didn't even want to get close to it. I wanted to leave, NOW.

"Just a little further and then we'll get to the cliffs. I really want to see what kind of climbing is back here," Landon said, the dead animals not bothering him a bit.

"Landon this is getting a little freaky. Lions don't eat moose. At least not this time of year."

He laughs.

We continue into the woods. I think if i would have been standing still, I would have been physically shaking. My mind was racing, trying to find an explanation for the huge dead creature. Not a lion, nor a bear would do this. Something larger had to do it. Like a man. And as I have been reading New Moon lately, of course i imagined that possibly a vampire might have done this. I liked the idea of someone from the Cullen clan being responsible for the carcasses MUCH more than the idea of some gang of satanists sacrificing animals in some ritualistic pagan worship. But i don't believe in vampires... So that leaves.....

I started hitting the rocks together much more often. It soothed me a bit, to be making a loud noise in the quiet and still forest. It made me feel like we had a presence here. We were not prey that could be easily stalked and captured.

"Well, we've been hiking for over and hour and I haven't seen the cliffs, have you?"

I casually said, "nope. sorry. maybe we should turn around and go back?"

Landon saw the desperation in my eyes. He laughed and complied. He thinks it's funny when i'm scared. Well, only when i'm scared for no good reason (in his opinion). Like during tornado warnings, when i'm cowering in the hall closet with the flashlight on. That's funny. When our car stalls in the middle of Banana Hill at night - when we were advised not to drive at night through the African villages, and then the people start approaching our car and pushing it backwards down the street, Landon doesn't laugh at my fright. That's not funny.

Our hike out was quick. We passed over the three carcasses again, stopped at the stream to get Duvick some water again, while i waited, antsy. I continued to click my rocks making me feel better: armed and annoying.

When we got to the bridge, I threw my stones into the stream and breathed a sigh of relief. The Jeep was gone.

Landon got mad at Duvick for eating crap that was hidden in a bush next to the road, and we drove out of the canyon with the windows down to keep the smell of human feces and rotting carcass in the back seat with the dog.

Colorado wilderness

It was amazing. I love being outdoors, especially in Colorado. We met up with Justin and Anna and their two boys to backpack into the Holy Cross Wilderness. We had sunshine every day, which was such a relief - what i'm most afraid of in the Colorado wild are the storms. It was a short hike, really: 3 miles in and 3 miles out, though carrying a heavy pack, hiking at 11,000ish feet and trying to encourage a 4 year old (ahem - a 4 1/2 year old) to keep going made it seem a bit longer. However, i was never dismayed - quite the opposite. i could have stayed in that place for days and days and days.

Our hike in was amazing. We hiked on a well-worn dirt path with roots and rocks exposed beneath the towering pines. As the pines shaded our trail, they showered us with their beautiful aroma. I love the smell of pines in the summer when their needles are hot and their sap runs thick and free. My favorite scent in the world is the smell of ponderosa pines. I love that i can usually smell them before i see them. They smell like vanilla and i can never get enough - i love to press my face onto the caramel colored bark and really enjoy the tree and savor it as much as i can. yeah i know. i know.

The higher we climbed, we approached such varying mountain beauty. As we hiked out of the dense woods, we entered the world of Junipers and Columbines and every where around us we could see the exposed Colorado Rocky Mountains. We were completely surrounded by the beautiful beasts on every side and we found ourselves overjoyed, giddy almost, to be smack-dab in the middle of such wild beauty. it was awesome.

Even Diddles (my 4 1/2 year old nephew - who isn't really named Diddles, though that's what i call him. i didn't ask his mom if i could post his name on my blog, so i'll just call him diddles) exclaimed that "this is beautiful!" i'm not sure if he was only mimicking our expressions or if he really did recognize the unique beauty that we were encountering - i wouldn't be surprised of the latter - his parents have instilled into he and his brother a love and appreciation for nature.

"This IS beautiful!" i exclaimed, and then asked, "how do you think this beautiful place got here?"

"i dunno" he said. he's so sweet to humor me.

"Do you think that maybe God made it and put it here?"

"Yeah!"

noticing a teachable moment, i continued, "What else can you think of that God created beautiful?"

"The stars!"

"What else?"

"The galaxies!"

"Good ones! God did make the galaxies so beautiful! And he made Momma beautiful, and 'Neus (his 2 yr old brother)."

"yeah, he did!"

"Wow, Diddles! Of all of the things that God has made, what is your favorite?"

after some "hmm"ing and time contemplating, he simply said, "green beans, what's yours?"

Gosh, my heart just swelled with the great love i have for that kid. what a precious one. And he was a trooper - that was a long hike for him and he was so strong! His parents went through 2 bags of gummy bears getting him in and out, but that was all it took.

We camped beside a roaring river at the base of a cascading waterfall, flowing straight off the edge of the mountain, carrying all the snow melt and rain run-off down into the valley. it was clear and freezing and so awesome. It was great to filter the water into our water bottles - it was ice cold and so refreshing to drink. We camped 2 nights at the base of Mount of the Holy Cross. Landon and Justin attempted a snow ascent the next morning.

Anna, the boys, Duvick and I spent the day around our camp, climbing boulders, throwing rocks into the stream, and just hiking around. Our hungry tummies brought us back to our camp, where we ate our lunch and then put the boys in tents for their nap (which neither took) and Anna and i got to have girl time. I love girl time with Anna. She is just seeping with love and wisdom and creativity and is one of my greatest friends!

The next day we hiked out, getting to experience the beautiful hike all over again, in awe of the beauty just the same as just a few days before. This time our packs felt lighter and we felt stronger. Well, i guess I should just speak for myself - Landon was a little sick, we were all sleep deprived, and Anna was carrying 'Neus on her back the entire hike in and out. When we would pass other hikers, they would all let her pass as their jaws dropped, i even heard one young man murmur, "that's one hell of a woman". i couldn't agree more.

Remembering Columbine

I’ve been thinking about the gravity of this for days. And I’m not sure why a 10 year anniversary just feels heavier than the others. Everyone is getting back together – there is a breakfast today for the “survivors” and memorial services held last night. This anniversary obviously bears weight for more than just me.

Each anniversary each year brings different things to mind, brings me to different emotions. Last year I was so busy working, I hardly thought of it. Some years I am so overwhelmed by God’s great healing and love in my life that I’m just compelled to worship as I remember the wound afflicted and see that here I am again, whole and free because of his great work in my life. And some years I am so sad, remembering the pain, and remembering others who could not cope as well as I, who later took their own lives. And this year is harder than most.

I’ve been thinking awhile about these last 10 years and about how that one day has affected each day following. I think if I would have known how difficult it would be - if I would have known the pains and struggles that I would endure for years after that one day - I wouldn’t have been so full of hope and strength after the shooting. In this case, I’m glad that I could move forward without knowing what I know now.

There were many struggles that I suffered through after that day. Running through dead bodies and thinking that you, yourself would die while we were hiding there for hours, and the amazing panic and peace that come from an experience like that… it is something that no one should ever have to realize in a day, but especially someone so young as we were then. It truly was a day of lost innocence, as many of the adults had said, which I never understood until I could later see what they had probably anticipated: the ramifications of something so terrible to suffer in for years.

And I truly look back and praise God. God is the victor in this world each day despite the evils that sometimes seem to overwhelm us. God has been a healer in my life and in the lives of many others that were with me in the suffering. But he let me work through the pain, he let me suffer through evils, and I’m glad – it has brought me understanding, strength, and it has brought me closer to him.

I think the worst wound was realized when the first man I loved broke my heart, “I’m sorry. It’s just too hard to love a ‘Columbine girl’”, he said with dry eyes . And for years after that break-up I knew I was masked. Wherever I was where people knew me at all, that’s all I believed I was to them. And I doubted that I would ever be loved for ME ever again – no one would ever love me without pity or curiosity as their motive (whether they knew it or not). And it terrified me. I guess it caused me to hold my heart further into my chest, and trust became difficult. I remember when one of my friends came to me one day at APU and said to me, “everyone is asking me about you – about Columbine – and I’m not sure what to say. They keep telling me that they heard you went crazy, that you have issues.” Was that their perception of me? I remember girls sweetly asking me to join them for a shopping trip or to the beach and when we finally were alone in the car, they all wanted to know, “what was it like?

I’m having nightmares again this last week. Three, actually. But I used to have them 3 or 4 times a week for about 7 years. And in all of them I am hiding or running from gunmen. But I am always a protector of someone, trying to save others. I wonder if this is my mind’s way of healing my wounds of surviving 10 years ago. Well, if I had more courage that day, what good would it have done to have left the shelter of my desk and walk out into the open to confront them? I would have been among the dead and nothing else. But it’s an amazing thing to live through – surviving something that others did not. It’s an awful torture. I’m not saying I wish I had died – I do not wish that at all, not for one minute. I am grateful for my life. But of course, when you are living through the guilt of surviving, you look back and wonder if you were more courageous, if something would have been different. And why me? Why did they die when I survived? And so I reconcile this in my nightmares, though I haven’t suffered them for years until just recently again.

It’s amazing how a few hours in one day can change thousands of lives for years.

How I wish I could be reunited with the others today. I wish I could sit with them in the Columbine High School commons and feel that triumph – here we are again– we are still here – we have overcome. But just knowing you are all there together gives me a strength knowing that I could have been among you.

every body needs a...

Every morning when i get on my computer before i start working with ACSI i "connect" with you. And i've noticed how i check my favorite sites in the same order every single time: check email, then read your blogs, then see what's new on facebook. this takes me between 5 minutes to an hour depending on how exciting your lives are.

Landon thinks that my time sitting here alone feeling like i'm connecting to friends when really i haven't seen many of you for years or at least since Christmas is silly. but i've been thinking about it, and talking about with anna and others and realize that men and women (or at least landon and i) are just different in our social needs.

i thought that when we moved out here Landon would find our friends for us - since i was working mostly from home and he was the one interacting with people our age in our season of life with similar beliefs and values (Christ, education, etc...). i'm not sure why i expected him to just bring home amazing and interesting men WITH their wives so that my social needs would be fulfilled. beyond this probably not being realistic in general, this is just NOT Landon. it took me awhile to figure out that he actually wasn't going to bring an amazing couple through our front door.

and we've talked about this recently - we were talking about how i really have no friends. "you have no friends here either," i said. but for Landon that is not really a desire or a need. He is in touch with old friends via email and phone and a mutual love in their hearts, i guess. i'm much more high maintenance. the need for a friend to be PRESENT in my life is overwhelming. though i don't really have DEEP friendships here in illinois, God has really blessed me with some women that i have grown to love, even if we don't have much in common or really understand each other on a deep level. it's enough to have their love and to have them present.

but most of you, the commonalities go deeper, and further back. we have history. we have future (i'm HOPING!) but we don't really have PRESENT. and that's okay. really, beyond loving you and treasuring you, i NEED you. even now. this is okay, for now. reading your blogs, giving you a thumbs up on your facebook status (ha!) and calling you rarely and seeing you even less... as long as we know that there are thougths and love between us. i can handle seeing you at Christmas or more or less. and it wasn't always like this, was it? we used to be together almost every day. though, as i think of this, there are a few of you whom i realize i actually have never met (and that realization is crazy to me - i feel like i know you!). but i'll be in colorado soon and we'll have to hook up. but you are my best friends' friend and now mine through blogs and whatever else and because of who you are to her and who you have become to me, you are dear also.

i'm not sure where this is going. i just realize that right now in this season of my life when i feel so alone and isolated the communication between us via this Internet is so precious and so necessary in my life. it seems pathetic from the outside, but to me, it is just essential.

on another note, to bring us closer together via the internet but with actual verbal and visual interaction, i want to share our skype address: lhmcbrayer. give us a call!

Our Table

Time at the dinner table is treasured. It is the only time of the waking day when cell phones are not answered and minds are not racing with the burderns and bustle of the day. It is sacred. It begins in prayer, and ends in happy tummies. It is usually the only time i get alone with my husband each day where we concentrate on each other and not on things needing done and whatever else married people talk about that has to do with living together more than growing together. It is sacred.

Our table.

Landon lived with a house full of fantastic guys while he was at UCCS. The year after he graduated he moved into a house with his best friends and then proposed to me soon after. Four months later we were married, and during those 4 months he slept on the floor/futon or something awful each night while he lived out the remaining months of his bachelorhood. In the kitchen of their house was what would soon be our table. I love thinking of those men that we so dearly love sitting together at that table eating the nasty stuff they invented in that kitchen (mostly thinking of aaron and philip here- ha! brandon somehow knew how to cook better than the rest). Soon all of the guys were out of the house and no one was to claim the table. So we did, even though landon hardely really lived there.

Before our table lived with "the guys", it was a family dinner table of the Campus Crusade for Christ director in Colorado Springs. He has a lovely wife who remains my greatest inspiration of a praying woman. While they lived with this table, they had 2 little children. Their first, a girl, their second, a little boy adopted from Russia. And the love and life of that family is still smothered all over this table in not so appetizing, but still precious reminants.

Our table, supposedly, is the EXACT same set that my parents had when they were first married in December of 82. The table that was mine when i was born.


Our table sure has a lot of character to show of its last 25ish years: legs chewed by some dog i never knew, missing rungs on the chair backs, glitter, paint, and crud stuck in all the cracks and ridges. there is this sticky residue on the chairs that is activated during our sticky humid summers here and every time i rise from the seat, i find am literally peeling myself (whether skin or denim or fleece, etc..) off of it. ouch!

Yet, i love to think of the history of the table. Especially the prayers prayed, tears cried, moments shared, families built, and lives experienced around this focal point in a family - the dinner table. I am so grateful that this table can be OUR table. And i hope that i can continue to share beautiful meals with my talented chef husband here, and I trust that even i will some day build my own family within its missing rungs and chewed up legs.

She's a talker

One thing that i have been trying to improve about myself over the past...10 years is my talkativeness. i'm not sure how i'm doing, but i think i've toned it down a bit. My family told me that i talk a lot. But they don't really talk all THAT much, so i was just keeping us connected by streaming together conversations, right? I've finally discovered in which situations that i have a tendency to monopolize conversation and ramble and ramble so i can better control myself.

When i'm nervous.
I used to get silly chattery when i was nervous or felt a bit socially awkward. One of my best friends told me how obnoxious i was during an exchange we had on a double date. And i realized that i do tend to get a little silly and chattery when i'm not very comfortable with the social situation. lately, i just shake - literally. I've noticed twice in conversations i had with people during our time in Colorado and one recently that was uncomfortable that my hands are physically shaking and my breathing is tight and my heart is pounding. and i'm actually NOT talking much. i'm not sure which is better - being obnoxious or on the verge of an anxiety attack...haha!

When i'm excited.
I get really chattery when i'm really happy or excited. We'll be driving somewhere and Landon will stop and ask, "do you realize that you've been having a conversation with your SELF for at least 20 minutes?". oopsie. i also remember my freshman year of college walking across campus with a really good friend, he turned to me and said, "Hannah, don't take this the wrong way, but don't you ever shut up!?". i'm not sure which way he wanted me to take it, but it hurt my feelings. but obviously his honesty made me take a step back and re-think this. i do chatter and chatter when i'm so excited. when Mom and Dad and Nell came to visit us in Kenya and i hadn't seen them for 7 months, i was ecstatic! we sat in the main room of our cottage and talked and talked until i realized that they were all leaning sideways and NOT talking but yawning and yawning...oopsie - i just realized that you've been traveling for 36 hours. do you want to talk tomorrow?

funny.

my dad has ALWAYS (like at least once EVERY TIME i see him) told this (once) funny joke about how my parents were so excited when i started talking so very young....and the kicker: she hasn't stopped since! ha!

but i do think i'm getting better at this. i'm finding great value in listening to others - and i actually have a desire to know them and hear them, not just observing social conversational etiquette. i think there's hope for me yet.

The testimonies of time

Are there things that you do or avoid doing to alter the feeling or truth of time in your own mind? Hm - that didn't make much sense. I was just thinking about this the other day. For instance: unpacking. Whenever i go on a business trip or a vacation, as soon as i arrive, i unpack my bags into drawers and closets and "get settled" in. Landon got home last wednesday from Colorado with all of my bags. I didn't unpack them until yesterday (i have such a gracious husband). I am this way whenever i get home from a trip - i just leave my things in my bags - use landon's toothbrush and deodorant for a few days until he catches on... i'm not sure why i do this, but i'm starting to realize that it is because of time. especially when i am back from vacation, i just don't want to "get settled" back into the realities and responsibilities of my life. so i prolong the final process of returning.

there are certain testimonies of time that i like. like...buying more dish soap. this is satisfying to me. weird? (i can't believe i'm even sharing all of this - makes me sound like such a crazy person) i like that we've been washing dishes by hand for 3 years of our life - makes me feel good about water conservation, and about doing things the old way. i like the old way. like soup - people have been doing this way for ages and ages all around the world (i guess not with dish soap though, huh?). and i like that we've lived somewhere long enough. even more than that, i'm about to buy what i think will be my 5th bottle of dish soap since our move to illinois, and what i think will be my last bottle before our move this summer - and that is hugely satisfying.


but some testimonies are sober. this is strange, again, but i so distinctly remember the time passing once i was married. i specifically remember standing in the shower and realizing that my wedding pedicure was grown out and needed to be removed - and the sad feeling i got from this - knowing that my wedding was over - my only wedding of my entire life that i had always wondered about and that i waited for and enjoyed so so so much was now a day in my past and not my future. and though i was relieved and elated to FINALLY be married to the beautiful and amazing Mr. McBrayer i also was a bit sad that my wedding would now only always be a memory. dang chipped and out-grown pedicure.

what else? wrinkles. that's right. i'm getting wrinkles now. i was talking to my little sister about skin care the other day and i no longer care about what causes or prevents break-outs, it's all about the wrinkles! and i think i've just entered the anti-wrinkle worrying world in the last 3 months with this dry weather or something...but it's scary (yet sort of satisfying).

these tiny testimonies of time provoke such emotion in me. i had never noticed it until two very different emotions collided yesterday - unpacking my bags and putting dish soap on the grocery list in the same afternoon.

do you have any distinct testimonies of time? i bet watching your babies grow is a miraculous, satisfying, and bitter-sweet observance of time.

oh, and Landon turns 27 on monday. that sounds old. i guess because i met him when he was 20, and i'm only a year younger than him. so the older he gets, the older that means that i am getting.

Gather ye rosebuds while you may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today;
To-morrow will be dying.

perspective

Every once in awhile i write a post and save it only as a draft - for a couple of reasons. Sometimes, just not sure if i want all eyes on my thoughts on a certain issue (you notice the typical lightness of my topics), sometimes re-evaluating my motives for a post, and other reasons. This is one such post.

Yesterday i was in a LONG line at the bank - i was there for 30 minutes! Our bank is in the lower-income part of town (i like to call it the "ghetto" but it isn't exactly a ghetto). Friday was pay day, and Christmas is in less than 2 weeks. People were frantic to deposit and withdraw cash. The couple in front of me wanted to withdraw cash even though they did not have the funds in their account - what is that, denae - a cash advance or something? They were desperate for the cash and the lady had to deny them because they had a cash advance (or whatever it is called) only two weeks prior.

When i got back to the store, there was a lady waiting at the bus stop outside of starbucks with a grocery cart full of groceries. I thought that if she was still there when i got off that i should offer to drive her and her groceries home.

Two weeks ago a man confronted me in the grocery store parking lot at night asking me for money. I made him come into the store with me before i would open my purse for him - but i gave him all the cash i had which was VERY little. He was discouraged.

The store next door was robbed a few weeks ago.

Starbucks is cutting hours majorly. Our partners aren't working enough to support themselves. They come to work with dirty aprons and are freezing in our drive-thru window - almost all of my partners have caught cold in the last 3 weeks since the temps have plummeted. I ask them to wash their aprons and think about buying some long-sleeve shirts to wear to work. They explain to me that they can't even afford money for Christmas gifts, let alone weekly laundry and new clothes.

I am surrounded by people in desperation living from pay check to pay check and on top of it all, are burdened by the desire (or pressure) to be buying gifts for loved ones. To have a "good" Christmas.

I think of them and their hurting and am so grateful for the steady income that provides Landon and i with the opportunity to pay our bills, eat, AND purchase gifts for those we love. perspective.

I also think about our Christmas in Africa. We were without the commercialism of Christmas in the States. We didn't have a Christmas tree. We decided not to buy gifts for each other. Instead, only bought chickens for friends so they could have a richer celebration with their families. And we spent Christmas morning with the orphans, and afternoon eating potatoes and pies with other missionaries. And we were surrounded by people in far greater poverty than those we live near here, yet they celebrated Christmas and anticipated it with amazing joy. They celebrated Christmas with praise to God for his greatest gift - for becoming man and joining us, loving us, and sacrificing his own life for us so that we could live in joy and wholeness despite what we have lost or are without in our lives. They knew that in having Christ, we have everything - there is nothing greater. And celebrating Christmas with that perspective was so refreshing and humbling and honest and joyous and beautiful.

Being in America and seeing the greed and despair of our culture during this most precious celebration is heartbreaking. But it is there, and there is only one Hope.

red headed ness

I've always been a redhead. Growing up i had curly long red curls, freckles, braces, and played sports with the boys at recess instead of 4-square, tether-ball and london bridges with the girls. How many nick names do you think kids taunted me with on the play-ground? "That's just because they're jealous," were the words mom always used to console me. obviously that's not true - what kind of kid would want to have red hair, freckles and braces? that's pretty heavy package to carry as a kid.

as an adult, i am very grateful for all of those things. though most of my freckles have faded, i am so glad when they make an appearance - it means i have been outside in the sunshine, and i love being ouside in the sunshine! plus, my grandmother always told me that they were angel kisses - i still cherish that!



i like my red hair now. i have never paid to color it. though there are certain colors i can't wear and i have had guys ask me if the "carpet matches the curtains," i like this color.

and braces... well, i only had them for 6 (SIX!!) years, and ever since my smile has been my favorite thing about my appearance.

I married a man with FAR more freckles than i have, perfect teeth, blond hair, and beautiful auburn facial hair. sometimes people think he's my brother.

and i wonder what our kids will look like. i like to think about it - i don't see how we could end up with kids without freckled bodies, pale skin and hair in some shade of red-ish. my grandmother always said that when she came to our races and games she could always spot us (my sis and i) because we were the only kids with red hair. i imagine sitting on a park bench talking with other moms as we watch our kids play and torture each other - mine, are the ones over there throwing gravel up the slide - the redheads.

Shoe girl

I am not a shoe girl.
Most women i know have so many shoes - too many to count. And isn't it a reputation that women in general carry - to be shoe-obsessed? My mom loves shoes because they look pretty and you don't have to get naked to try them on. My sister buys shoes because they are on sale for $30.00. They'll probably hate me for portraying them this way - but i'm not too far off, right? They tease me, though.

If i have any stylish shoes in my collection (which i do!) it's because they were forced upon me by my mother and sister. And i seriously am grateful. I was planning to wear chacos on my wedding day. Right before the big day mom and nell came to me with desperation in their eyes and presented me with a pretty pair of champaigne colored dress shoes with heals - "at least for the ceremony". They matched with the champaigne sash on the train of my dress and i was having so much fun on the big day, i completely forgot i wasn't wearing a pair of my beloved chacos. once i was out of college, mom and nell presented me with heals and suits for interviews. I knew they were right - that i had to adopt these into my "professional" wardrobe. i wasn't really thrilled with the heals - thought they were uncomfortable and fugly, but i've gotten a lot of compliments on my "cute shoes" and have only Mom and Nell to thank. If it weren't for them, i probably wouldn't have a decent job and would have tripped on the hem of my wedding dress while walking down the isle.

Apparentely, I have "ugly" shoes. I have about 10 pair of shoes that i wear year-round. And i've had most of them for the last 8 years. Apparently i have no style when it comes to shoes. I'm forgiven, though, because at least they are good quality shoes. I really only wear a few different brands of shoes and they are all well made and silly-expensive. And in my opinion, they go with everything.
Birkenstocks

Earth shoes

and need i even mention....? Chacos

Of course, i have each pair in brown and black (or at least grey) because i have some sort of fashion awareness. I wouldn't dream of wearing brown shoes with jeans and a black sweater. Well, actually, i would wear my birks...well... regressing here.

Though, i must admit that a pair of green or magenta flats to add to my collection of functional, expensive, long-lasting shoes is appealing now and then.

Sweater addict

I am a sweater lover. I remember my first autumn away from colorado in the sunny state. 75degree "autumn" days and i was sweating in my sweater (weird, never noticed that "sweat" was in the word "sweater" - i named my teddy bear joyer because he brings joy, just like sweaters bring ....? sorry 'bout that - been awake for 12 hours now and haven't had lunch - makes me a little loopy - anyway...) and onlookers knew why, "are you from washington or something?" they would say (seriously - got this question all of the time!). "Colorado," i would reply. And they would give a sympathetic nod of understanding. Yep. Time to don the sweater. I needed it for my psyche and for my heart.

Growing up, the top things on my Christmas wishlist were CDs and sweaters. This year, ever since the leaves started changing, i've been wearing sweaters here in Illinois. Though, i am lucky - the weather here actually makes sweater-wearing VERY necessary.

Sweaters are so sweet, cozy, beautiful, and meaningful to me. Really, they are. Some of my sweaters have been handed down in my family - from my grandmother and my mother. I LOVE to wear these! Many of my sweaters have been gifts, and i often think of the gift giver when i pull the cuddly softness over my head and pup my hands through the sleeves. And when i wear my sweaters i remember special occasions that correlate with them (but us ladies do that with pretty much everything in our closet or jewelry box, don't we?).

And when Landon wears sweaters, wow - somebody better sweep me off of the floor! For some reason, it is just the hottest thing!

Last year when Landon was doing laundry (Landon does laundry!?! j/k babe) he shrunk 2 of my fav. sweaters. i was very bummed! any tips on how to unshrink them? my sister is an internet navigating queen so she found like 5 remedies for me. let's see.... i soaked them in water with hair conditioner and then stretched them back to normal size and layed them to dry. yeah, i donned one of them the other day and the kangaroo pouch could have doubled as a support bra. ha! i wore it anyway.
The cosby's

my comfort blanket

Do you have a movie that you return to over and over again? One that after a long day, you know you'll feel much better if you could just watch it? I have a handful of favorite movies that are not in this category: "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, "Legends of the Fall", "Out of Africa", "A River Runs Through It". I think it's because the movie that i'm referring to is one of those easy watching movies that make you feel good at the end - none of these aforementioned favorite movies do this. Yesterday when i got home from an 8 hour day at Starbucks and my feet hurt like crazy and i was sleepy and hungry, I looked over our lawn full of leaves and thought to myself, "While you were Sleeping." And that was it.

I put together Teresa Bolton's recipe for hot apple cider and while i was patiently letting it brew for "a minimum of two hours", i nestled up with a good friend. This is the only movie in the world that i can only listen to and still picture each expression, not missing a thing. The only movie that i know all the words to. And i still laugh out loud, come near tears, and LOVE it! Especially now that we live so near Chicago, i enjoy this movie even more! In fact, my VHS died this summer, so i took my parent's DVD home. I knew they would understand - it's "While you were Sleeping", after all, and they know how i love it.

Halloween in Cali

This was my second Halloween in California. The first was 7 years ago in Melrose. It was only a few months after I left home, only one month after 9/11 and I was enjoying the adventure of my new-found freedom. Some girlfriends and I went to downtown Los Angeles to a nice dinner, went to a ritzy mall and then on to a "Freak Show".

I remember the dinner was delicious and expensive. The waiter was cute and one of my friends flirted with him mercilessly as she flashed her fake ID for a glass of wine. We didn't buy a thing at the mall, but we wondered if L.A. would be attacked by terrorists - because it was Halloween (hm...not sure the reasoning of that one). The Freak Show was actually terrifying (I looked up pictures on flickr to accompany this post and i could not get myself to post any of them - they were all too vulgar and awful). One of the major streets was blocked off completely and there were huge stages on both sides of the street with live music. Between both stages, the street was packed with people...well, freaks. Everyone was dressed for Halloween (except us) and intoxicated (except us). I was absolutely terrified as i witnessed people enjoying themselves within the freedom and craziness that being disguised and drunk allows. I think we stayed for 15 or 20 minutes until one of my friends got groped and i insisted we leave. That night i was exposed to a world i didn't know existed, and went home praising God for his redemption in my life.

This Halloween. The contrast - HA! I spent the entire day working at our convention. Then i went out to dinner to P.F. Chang's with a friend and colleague of mine. I was still dressed in a suit and tie (not really, but very formal business attire). The town was pretty quit except at each street corner there were people in costumes carrying signs and screaming chants about "no on 8" and "yes on 7". I got to the hotel early and watched "Lipstick Jungle" on NBC before i went to bed.

My life has changed so much in 7 years. Even when i look back on my former self, it's like thinking of an old friend - was that really me? But one thing that remains the same in my life then and my life now is NOT California (THANK YOU GOD), but that i am in desperate need of God's amazing grace. And that I continue to live a life of joy and freedom because of the redemption of Jesus Christ. I am so grateful.

Dear Diary...

I've been journaling since i was 7. My first diary was tiny with lined paper, keyed lock, covered in balloons. I used to capture my days in a simple list of things that i did and began every entry with "Dear Diary". I'm not sure what got me into journal writing - that first diary was probably some silly birthday present that most kids never touch but for me hid my most private treasures: "dear diary, today i went to grama's, piano lesins, soccer praktis, playd barbies, and ate cake. Love, Hannah Lacy". pretty intense stuff right there.

I've compiled MANY journals throughout the 18 years since then. Some have been unique: letters to my future husband, paintings, a book of blessings, prayers, letters to people (alive and dead) that had left me and i missed terribly. For some reason i've kept every one. Landon had read some of them in an attempt in knowing me better before he thought to propose. i let him read them - can you believe that? And what's even more unbelievable is that after reading these thousands of pages worth of my daily mundane life (and deepest secrets), he decided it would be best to marry me. Ha! He's great.

As a Christian, journal writing has been a beautiful discipline and joy in my life. I have been able to meet God within those pages in such a deep and unique way - so different than anywhere else. One of my favorite things about journal writing is reading what i've written years before. It's been amazing going through old journals and seeing how God was working in my life. He is always cultivating in me to be a woman of remembrance. After we got back from kenya, i realized that LONG before i had entertained the thought of being a missionary in africa, i had recorded in my journal dreams that i had where africans were telling me how i needed to bring Landon to africa - and quick. How amazing! I have also seen so many answered prayers. Reading old journals, I am amazed at the strength that God had given me to endure some of the challenges in my life and i learn from my once child-like faith. In my journals i paste birthday cards that i have received, autumn leaves, flower petals, ticket stubs, guitar picks, or whatever else that was a treasure to me at that time (and remotely flat).

I am so grateful that i can look back through my life and see God's hand in each day. Even in conversations and dreams and challenges that i struggled through at the time - he knew the greater picture - he was always carefully and lovingly working. I trust that though i have entered a season of my life where i am sometimes tired, lonely, and confused, God is with me and molding me despite my sometimes crummy attitude and selfishness.

Our God is truly an awesome God!

Last October i was frantic, hopping from one ACSI convention to the next and working at 4am all of the days in between. I was being pulled in every direction except where i really wanted to be - home. I would sit in airports and it never failed that my departing gate was right next to a gate going to Denver. Once i finally arrived to Chicago O'Hare, i would take the shuttle to the car lot and drive North on a dark and busy highway beside the Chicago sky line. And when i finally drove into our gravel drive and turned off the ignition, i would look at the clock and realize i had to be at starbucks in 5 hours. And i would just sit there and cry and cry and hope that Landon was too busy studying to notice that i was home.

Somehow i have been tremendously blessed through my broken ankle in many ways these past few months. Though i am traveling 10 days this month to conventions around the country, i am not cramming them in between 4am mornings and sleepless nights. And when i come home to Gurnee, i actually feel like i'm coming home. My mind is not constantly in the mountains (not constantly).

If you have read this far, thank you. Maybe you want to share where you were last October? I know many of you didn't have those precious babies at your boobies last year - i bet that makes life a whole lot different!

aaah! there's this thing that i can never articulate in speech or write. it's so frustrating... but this is it: I want to live well, but i don't want to live the life that everyone else lives and expects of us. i don't understand why i can't just move into the mountains and work at an ice cream shop or something, where i make only enough to make our life possible... we could do this, right? I WANT TO LIVE WILD - I WANT TO BE FREE!!! and i tell myself that this is childish - but...no, it's not! who is it that put this burden in my mind? it's not childish to want to live freely and completely. I want to have my children and have them able to distinguish birds and trees before fast-food chains. i want the world to slow when the snow comes. I want to wake in the morning and go for a jog through the woods and then come home and drink a cup of coffee over a book of poetry. I want to go to sleep at night without planning my agenda for work the next day.

I feel so trapped. wow, i hate to say that, but that's exactly it. And it's not my job entirely that has me feeling this way. I have a PRECIOUS ministry with my job, which is such a blessing - not many people get spend 8 hours a day like this! i want to be able to leave with our camp gear on our backs when we're done with a work day and spend the night in the woods. i want to leave for an entire day and light a fire and eat wild raspberries and put my feet into a freezing mountain stream. i want to be so alone in the wild - with just my husband and my duvi-boy.

the longer we're here, the more i like it, and that simple fact terrifies me. may i never feel comfortable living like this.

we were talking yesterday - can't we just pack our stuff into a storage unit and move to alaska for 6 months once landon's done with school? why is it "responsible" to work at a job that stresses you out and determines when and where you can enjoy your time off? do we seriously have to "settle down" for my child-bearing years? why does "responsibility" require acquiring money? I know that most people that love us are hoping that this is where our future is headed - financial success and "responsibility". Landon has never pursued higher education for a larger pay-check - it has always been for knowledge. it has always been to satisfy his heart desires and pursue what he thinks is most important in this life.

i hope we always will live like that - these few years here are driving me crazy - this is not us - we can't live like this. we need wilderness, we need to be free from traffic and neighborhoods and shopping centers. oh, please, will someone tell me that this is not crazy or childish? is this making any sense at all?

and i read over this and noticed that i never mentioned God's will here, and honestly, i don't know where that fits. I mean, i know that God is glorified when our lives are lived in worship of him. I know that he has plans for us, but just because he has "plans" doesn't automatically mean that they are plans of "significance" as you would think of them. Reading L'Abri has brought to light a ministry that is one that i never considered, but has been so impactful. Landon talks about opening a "camp" in the mountains for seeking God and growing in knowledge through adventure and outdoors. He still wants to pursue his education. I want to be a mother more than anything else right now. And i wonder when people tell us that we must have certain things in line before we start a family - i'm afraid they're right. but just because they were "practical" in their childbearing, does not mean that i must be their kind of "practical" in mine. A family is a family with or without a 2-story house and a 401K. I would hate for my children to grow up with their favorite hobby being spending money or watching television. Not with this beautiful world that screams God's glory and power surrounding us.

And many people warned us when we wanted to get married. That we were too young. We had no money saved. I wasn't out of school yet. Neither of us had jobs. We were going into the mission field for a year and we had just gotten married. This would be too hard. This was not wise. AND GOD HAS BLESSED US tremendously in our marriage, and in our ministry in Africa. He has always provided beyond abundantly for us. We have never been in need or want. Whatever it was that everyone else said - they had never considered what God had in store, they had not considered that we were not so foolish and we had spent time in prayer and fasting and could not live our lives and serve God in any other way at that time. We were living in obedience. God blessed us. And we ARE blessed!

I'm uncertain of how to live.

missing Kenya today

today, there were a few things that reminded me so much of moments from our year in Kenya, that i was missing it terribly. The first thing that has me reminiscing, is the weather here. We have had a downpour for 3 days straight. It reminds me of the rainy season, though it is much less muddy here :). It makes me want to lay inside and sleep and bake cookies and read. The living space in our home here is just about the same size as our place in Kenya, so sometimes the cold floors and lack-of-a-dishwasher, bring me back to our days there. But i do miss the tin roof. This unceasing rain could never be the same without the banging of the tin roof and the sight of children running through the mud in boots too big for their feet, and woolen hats tight upon their heads and beneath their chins. my sweeties.


hehe, i remember one afternoon while i was at the orphanage, we were stuck in a sudden downpour. The children were so thrilled about the rain and the adults ushered their muddy feet and drenched little bodies below the tin roofs. These kids couldn't stay out of the rain, they were reaching out and opening their mouths beneth the little streams running off the grooves in the tin roof. They were splashing each other and spitting water at each other. I thought it was adorable and i found such joy in seeing them enjoy the rain instead of cower from it.

Also, in church today, i was fighting back tears immediately: the family in front of us had a toddler girl. She was sitting on her mommy's lap, stroking her face, touching her clothes and jewelry and hair and digging into her purse and it reminded me instantly of my orphans. Every sunday i would take a van full of 25 orphans to church. Mary and Daniel, the two toddlers would sit on my lap - one on each knee. I would hold them during worship and they would just stare at me while i tried to sing the swahili. during the service, they both sat there taking off my jewelry, stickying my hair in their fingers, stroking the white skin and freckles on my arms and hands, and in the most precious moments, resting their heads on my chest and sleeping... i miss those precious mornings with my babes.

today i miss them more than usual - more of a painful missing than a joyful recollection in missing.

seeing the rockies nowhere but my rear view mirror is heartbreaking. i feel like i'm always leaving the place i most want to be - i told landon that returning to gurnee is like walking backwards...

sorry, what a bad way to start a post. we spent the last 2 weeks in colorado with friends and family and mountain majesty. our schedule was packed with people we love amidst colorado fun. landon climbed 3 14ers (one was a 2-day hike), and we went rock climbing 3 different days. we spent 2 days in durango, one in colorado springs, 4 in Buena Vista and Salida and the rest in Littleton. we saw everything between the NE corner of CO (Sterling) to the SW corner (Durango). IT WAS WONDERFUL!!!

we left CO at 7:45 yesterday morning and pulled into our driveway at 1am this morning. i requested work off at starbucks today (thank goodness!!!) so i'm just catching up on some things here at home and diving into 2 weeks worth of catch-up at ACSI.

contratry to the first few sentences of this post, there is a simple peace about being where we live. It was nice to wake and spend my morning alone - haven't been alone in a very long time. and i woke to a violent thunderstorm with dense humidity and temperatures in the low 70's (quite refreshing after being in 90 - 100 degree temps these last 2 weeks).

Welp, i'll be updating for a few days with pictures from our wonderful trip "home".

quarter-life crisis

this week marked the one year anniversary of our being in this house. pretty uneventful if you're a normal person living a normal person's life. Neither Landon or I have spent an entire year without having to move since we left our hometowns for college. wow, that's....7 or 8 years now. and since we've been married, we've lived in colorado springs on 2 seperate occasions for 9 months at a time and we lived in kenya for 11 months, (not to mention the months inbetween these stints where we lived pretty much everywhere) so this place takes the cake!

well, so we've been here a year now. my bookshelf is where i placed it when we unloaded the truck and decided that the bookshelf would go "here". and so is every other piece of furniture. we've made a few donations when it comes to getting rid of our stuff. we've had the opportunity to go through EVERYTHING about once a year to get rid of things. i find myself itching to purge. i'm sitting on the couch in the evenings trying to enjoy some reading and i find myself looking around thinking, "that, that, that, that, that..." i want to get rid of it all! books, desks, couches, lamps, stereo, picture frames, candles, dresser - all of it! and i have no idea why. i want to tear down the nasty wallpaper in our kitchen and i want to buy artwork for our bedroom wall. i actually bought a big jug of hand soap to refill our current bottles - i don't think i've had soap last me long enough to want to reuse the bottle and refill it before!

i want a tattoo. and i know exactly what i want. and it's huge. and i want my nose pierced again. today landon and i were talking about getting me a motorcycle. with myself itching for some drastic changes, a friend asked me if i was pregnant - SO not pregnant, and i wonder.....am i going through a quarterlife crisis?

we're talking more seriously about moving to kenya again eventually. and i've decided that if we do ever get to adopt daniel, that we would adopt his brother too. and i think on daniel and life in kenya again quite a lot.

i can't wait for our vacation in colorado. i have a hard time concentrating on much else. and i just can't wait to have a break, not even so much from the midwest, but just from my life here.

and today i was driving and thinking about how beautiful the trees are right now. and i realize that i always think the trees are beautiful. and then i thought how strange that the best thing about living here is also the worst thing. the worst thing about living in illinois is that it is flat and humid - no mountains for mountain beauty, mountain activities, and mountain people. yet, my favorite thing about here are the things that i cannot find in colorado: the TREES - so many varieties, so lush. the trees are so beautiful in the winter silhouetted against a gray sky or covered partly by snow. they smell amazing in the autumn and are such beautiful colors. right now they are so thick i forget where the watertown is on the horizon, and they are old and glorious as they tower over every road and yard and riverbend. colorado doesn't have trees such as these. and i also love the river here.

the river is the sourch of LIFE for us here. if it were not for the river and the flooded lands that surround it, we would live in a wall-to-wall town with no free space. the river is beautiful and it's woods and trails provide places for our great joy here! colorado does not even have one river such as ours: colorado's rivers are roaring white glacier water that is beautiful and clear and freezing. nothing smooth and calm enough to walk across in your chaco's with water up to your waist.

so the very flat and humid land that has me sometimes suffocating provides the landscape for the things that i love most about our little gurnee. it was really really revolutionary for me to realize this today. i am grateful for that. maybe i should enjoy our next year here, as this place holds beauty that i cannot find even in my most favorite place on earth.

Psalm 124

If the LORD had not been on our side -
let Israel say-
if the LORD had not been on our side
when men attacked us,
when their anger flared against us,
they would have swallowed us alive;
the flood would have engulfed us,
the torrent would have swept over us,
the raging waters would have swept us away.

Praise be to the LORD,
who has not let us be torn by their teeth.
We have escaped like a bird
out of the fowler's snare;
the snare has been broken,
and we have escaped.
Our help is in the name of the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

This was once my praise. What a precious psalm this has been to me ever since my life was so close to being taken away. We discovered the intentions of the shooters at Columbine high school, and realized that there were bombs planted directly beneath us that weren't detonated. Cowering below our desks, we watched the shooters walk past our classroom door and toss a bomb into the room next to us. We sat next to a dieing man for four hours who perished after we were finally evacuated at gun point... And i carried a great guilt for surviving that day. I carried that guilt for a very long time. And then this passage, this song of David, became my song. When other's asked, "how could God let this happen?", i wondered, "why did he save me?".

The events of yesterday have me thinking on that day. I want to say "those days" because the pain and healing and repercussions of that single day lasted years.... And i hurt terribly for my friends at New Life church and those of YWAM just north of my hometown. News like this always hits a little close to home and saddens me greatly. But this, even more, as i know the people involved and i can see the place, and picture it all from my memory. And i know the pain and difficulty in healing from surviving a terrible thing.

Yesterday during lunch, Landon and i had a discussion about evil (as he is the resident expert on the metaphysics of this issue). I'm not sure if we agree that people are inherently evil - i tend to think that they are inherently good, but have the capability of being truly evil if they are persuaded to by an evil power. But that has always been a fault of mine - my steadfast hope of good and trust in others...

If it were a year ago, the shootings Sunday would have persuaded me even more that God had abandoned them as he has so many others. Yet, last Sunday i realized a truth that is so deep and simple, i am so ashamed to not have clearly understood. As Christ's suffering on the cross was more than his physical pain, his true torture was being separated from God. Only in separation from God, could Christ carry and atone for the sins of the world - for one that is God must be separate from sin. And so i see, that Christ was abandoned by God (for that short time) in order that we never again would be. And this is the truth that i understand and cling to. As Christ said, "in this world you will have trouble. but take heart! i have overcome the world...and I am with you always..." (John 16, Matt 28).