"You're not a bad kid"

"I told you this would happen Ms. Joens. I got one..."

This was the passing comment given to me by a former student just before dismissal today.  My own class was packing up, grabbing their backpacks, and I happened to be standing in the hallway as the boy trudged on by, defiance in his voice.

"What did you get?" I questioned, confused.

"A referral," he responded, flashing a glimpse of an envelope without looking in my direction and moving on down the hallway.

There were only a few minutes left before the bell was to ring, my class had a lot to pick up, and there was so much commotion in the hallway by other 2nd grade classes it was easy to get lost in it all.  This comment, however, stopped me and I knew I needed to address it.

This was the same boy whose mom had walked out on him last year.  We went through a lot, and I mean a LOT (just read my previous post) getting through that season of his life.  I had already cried so much for him, and my fear was that he would start to get on the wrong path.  I could feel him testing me last year and could catch a glimpse of what his future might be if he grew more defiant, less trusting of adults, and ultimately a teacher's nightmare.  His little life is so impressionable right now, and it killed me to see him accepting his fate of ending up in the office as if it was just a matter of time.

I called his name and beckoned him back.  He turned, shoulders shrugged, lip jutted out and giving off an impression of callousness.  This boy, who I had to retain due to his insufficient progress last year.  Who could blame him for not putting school as a priority?  He was just down the hall from me now, but I rarely got to engage with him.  Yet I know him.  I know him very well.  And what happened in the next few moments is powerful in reflection to really see just how much of an impact you can have on someone's life.

He came up to me, still not directing eye contact, and I asked him to tell me what happened.  He told me what he had said, which involved making a very serious threat to another student, and I asked for more information on the situation.  He confided what had sparked the incident, and I heard him out.  I then asked him to come closer and wrapped my arm around him, bending down to talk directly to him.  I told him I was sorry to hear that had happened and that he should be careful with his words.  I hugged him and challenged him to do better, "because you're a good kid.  Don't think you're a bad kid.  I know you, you're my Alex, and you're not a bad kid.  You hear me?"  He nodded, eyes glistening a bit, and then went on his way.

I later found out from his teacher that he came into her room bawling.  She assumed it was because of the referral, but I knew he wasn't crying from getting in trouble.  It had to have been me who caused him to cry.  I had no idea that he got so emotional just moments after our interaction - he was initially so cold.  I could have only hoped that my words hit home, and thank God they did something.  It is incredible to witness how powerful and influential God has ordained human relationships to be, and we each must choose to use that power for good or harm.  I cannot forget what position my job puts me in with these kids, and I wouldn't trade moments like this for the world!!

"…You listen to their cry..."

He was the last student I had at dismissal that Friday afternoon, and as he and the few others from other classes were waiting to get picked up, one adult walked by observing how amazing it was that we still had kids past the normal dismissal window.

"What are all of you still doing here?  You need to get home and spend some time with your mommas!" he jested, as Mother's Day was in just a couple days. But as the man walked inside the building, the eyes of my student met mine, wide and alarmed.

"He doesn't know," was all I said.

The little boy jerked his chin up and pursed his lips for a moment, as if to say he got and understood my message.  Then his eyes turned down at his hands fiddling with the strings of his backpack.

Yes, he doesn't know that just earlier today when the class was making cards for Mother's Day, you said you hadn't seen your mom in so long that you weren't quite sure what she looked like anymore, and therefore couldn't draw a picture of her.  He doesn't know that your mom had simply decided to not be a mom, and left you, your brother, and your sister without any proper goodbye.  He doesn't know about all the times you sat at my desk, tears rolling down your face, as you tried to reason through your situation.  All those moments I pushed everything else aside and sat across from you, face to face, and let you talk it out.  I've heard the story over and over.  I've seen your emotions ride up and down like a roller coaster.  I've let you take your anger out on me, as your trust for adults close to you starts to diminish.  I've reminded you how I care about you and how I'm not there to hurt you, and I've strived to prove it and keep your trust.  Oh, and how many times I've cried for you and prayed for you that you don't know about.  It kills me to see the destruction in your little world and the very harmful effects it has on your development.  Instinct has me wanting to shelter you and make it all better, but alas, I cannot.  I am powerless to right those wrongs, because I am not your mom, and could never replace her.  I can get angry, I can feel sad, but still, these empathetic emotions cannot take the place of yours.

So, my dear student, all I have are moments like these.  Moments where little words are said, but I can see nonverbal understandings between us.  Contrasted to the adult that knows little about you, I realize how much I do know and what obligation I have to be sensitive to that.  My eyes are also opened to the reality of what this job is as I will come across many many more like you.  That is why I know teaching is my calling, and I pray that your time in my classroom is a breath of fresh air where you feel safe and loved.  I pray it is a moment when you feel like the special child that you are, and I place you in God's hands as I must trust His will and the fact that He brought us together.  How loved you are, dear one, and I pray that in your darkest night, He will be there to calm your fears and ease your pain.


"You hear, O Lord, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more." 
- Psalm 10:17-18

Flying Standby

My Dad has what I consider to be one of the coolest jobs on the planet.  He is a pilot for American Airlines and travels all sorts of places all the time.  (It got really weird when a coffee barista in Honolulu recognized him as a frequent customer.)  One of the perks to being the daughter of a pilot is that my younger siblings and  I grew up flying places around the U.S. and getting acquainted with several different airports.  In fact, I remember when I started finding out that not everybody chooses to fly and that some of my friends had never even been on a plane before.  It was such a foreign concept to me!

While we have the privilege of hopping on planes without paying the price for a ticket, it does mean that we have to fly standby.  This basically means we get a seat only if there is a seat available.  It makes sense and it seems fair.  Usually this is not a problem and we can get to where we want to go with the exception of a few flights every now and then where we are bumped to the next one.  If this happens we simply explore the airport, read at the gate, and wait patiently until there are seats for us.  Sometimes we have to fly in groups and choose which people to leave behind.  There was one time we were denied seats in first class because we were wearing jeans and that is not the proper dress code (for non-revenue passengers), so we had to wait three hours for the next flight.  That never happened again, which means that every time I fly I'm wearing slacks. (A lot of people now ask me if I'm traveling for work.)

I thought I knew how to roll with the punches that come with flying standby, but never have I ever tried to fly in and out of LAX.

Los Angeles International Airport.

One of my very close friends is living in LA this summer because she is currently an intern for Warner Brothers!  This is a really awesome opportunity for her, and of course I told her I would come and visit at some point this summer.  Originally, my friend, Laura, and I were planning on going to see Claire, and the three of us had an entire weekend marked with a full itinerary.

Laura and I packed our bags and woke up at an ungodly hour on a Thursday morning (4am) to see if we could catch the first flight out of DFW.  If we did not, there would be no worries because there was a flight departing for LAX every hour, and since we had been listed for the first flight, we would assuredly be given seats by the end of the day.

I have never seen anything like it.  Full flights and oversold flights with more than 50 passengers on standby.  Our names would bounce through the numbers in line going from the 40s to the teens and then back up to the 30s... we were getting nowhere.  The day resulted in seven hours at the airport bouncing between gates and six missed flights.  We gave up and went home after that feeling rather depressed.

2 weeks later, I told Claire I would try again.  Why not at least try?  However, this time I had very low expectations.  I didn't want to get my hopes up!  I packed a bag early on a Friday morning and planned to head to the airport after work.  After talking to my Dad about how flights were looking, however, I saw that once again the plan was futile.  There would be no traveling from DFW to LAX that day.

"Saturday looks like it might work though," he told me, so I planned to try in the morning instead.  The last flight out of DFW on Friday night was cancelled, so this made things even more complicated.  It looked like my only chance would be to opt for John Wayne in Orange County as my destination.  I told Claire I would let her know if I caught a flight and told my Dad I would keep him updated and early that morning my Mom drove me out to the airport.

I got through security fine and made it to my gate, spotting my name as the seventh on the standby passenger list.  I sat and began to read where I had left off in The Hobbit, wondering in the back of my mine how long my wait would be at the airport that day before I gave up again.  Once the entire plane had been boarded I changed my seat to be closer to the gate agents so that I could easily get information about being rolled over to the next flight.

Then, to my surprise, the gate agent called my name!  I walked up to the desk, a simple boarding pass that was only meant to get me through security in hand, waiting to see if I could trade it for an actual plane ticket with a seat number on it.  The two ladies on their computers hardly paid me any attention as they balanced phone calls, read information, and printed documents in a rush to have all in order before the plane took off.  Finally, one of them looked up and pointed a manicured finger at me saying, "You're a maybe."

Ok, a "maybe".  I felt like that was my constant status with a running record of turning into a "no".  But I could deal with that, so I patiently waited at the ticket-checking machine, not daring to get my hopes up, all the while watching the two gate agents stress about getting this plane properly loaded on time.  After what might have been only a couple of minutes, the same lady with the manicure looked up again and commanded, "Alright Heidi, follow me," taking off quickly down the jet bridge.

This was really strange - something I have never done before.  I've never strolled down the jet bridge without a legitimate ticket in hand.  Of course, this could not mean that I actually had a seat, so still I tried not to be too hopeful.  She did not even look back at me when we got down to the plane, and I knew it would be foolish to follow her on board, so I awkwardly stood off to the side next to a worker who was collecting strollers to load underneath.  There were not any passengers in view, so I was left there feeling teased as they had brought me that close to the plane only so I could look at their anxious fingers itching to close the door and close me out.  Would I watch it pull away from the bridge too?  It was too cruel!

Finally, the gate agent stepped off the plane and acknowledged me again.  "Row 19!" was all she said, indicating that there was no time to lose.  Towing my bag behind me I entered the plane, and the male flight attendant looked at me impatiently and actually ordered me with these words: "Quick as a bunny."  I would have laughed if I wasn't feeling so rushed!

As I stormed down the aisle as quickly as was possible without hitting other passengers with my carry-ons, I was beginning to think about how this was the first time I was only told a row to go to and not actually given a seat number.  For a second I wanted to panic, but then I realized that with everyone else seated it would not be hard to find my seat.  I had to text both my parents and Claire who were all waiting to hear if I had made this flight, and they were already telling us to put away our electronics.  Only moments after I was seated, the plane began to back out of the terminal.  I started to just breathe and try to go through everything that had just happened in my head, and that's when it first sunk in - I was actually going to be seeing my friend and spending my weekend in California!! I finally made it!

And it was well worth it. :)

One Patriot Not Proud of This Pop Culture

I went to the Yahoo home page this morning to sign into my email when a top news story caught my eye.  

Box Office Report: 'Ted' Earns Record $54.1 Mil; 'Magic Mike' Sizzles With $39.2 Mil

I clicked on to read about the record breaking numbers and found the article reporting, "It's the first time in history that two R-rated movies opened north of $20 million on the same weekend" (Yahoo! Movies).  In fact, the top 3 movies in the box office right now are 'Ted' at number one, followed by 'Magic Mike' in place two, and THEN Pixar's 'Brave'.  Not to mention 'Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter' is currently holding the sixth spot on the list.

Let's take a look at books while we're at it.  I'm sure we've all been made aware of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy that is still holding position one on the New York Best Seller's List for Fiction.  This is erotic fiction, and it only took a week for 856,000 copies of the trilogy to be sold.  The surge of sales is being compared to that of Harry Potter books.  The first book was only released last year, and already it has swept across the nation, making its name known, and has been translated into over 30 other languages.  Oh, and get this, Universal and Focus Features have already bought the movie rights.

Back to the box office.  I can't even imagine the weekend that this film will be released.  How will it not be put straight into adult movie stores??

You know, the entertainment industry only supplies to the popular demand.  I don't think it is fair to put all the blame on them.  Really, America?  It is our participation and our money that supports this kind of pop culture.  I cannot say I am completely innocent...there are plenty of sitcoms or movies that have some suggestive material in them that I've simply dismissed because I still like the show.  However, seeing things blow up to this level of crude humor and sexual innuendos makes me realize how just how slippery the slope is.  Maybe I'm not one to support 'Ted', 'Magic Mike', or Fifty Shades, but what about the people that do?  I've heard some of my own friends and people I love and respect mention some of these titles and nonchalantly admit to reading or seeing something that reserves some shock factor for me.  They didn't start there.  It has gradually become more and more "okay" and perhaps more addicting to be entertained by raunchy themes and erotic elements.

So what's next?  What is going to be on the screens 5 - 10 years from now?  What will we keep allowing to ooze into our culture that will break new records and might have our great-grandparents rolling in their graves?  Come on America, let's stop and use our brains for a second.  Where is all this leading?  Is it really fulfilling? 

What are we here for? What is the bigger picture? For all that we have done we are condemned, but we have been offered such an amazing gift.  It defies all odds - there is a God who loves and offers not just immediate, but ETERNAL salvation!  Love.  Love that defies all odds.  Love that will completely enrapture your heart if you let it.  Love that redeems, that saves, that is pure and healthy.  In light of that, are we willing to mess around at the peak of the slippery slope? 

^{Romans 1}

¹⁸ The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness, ¹⁹ since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. ²⁰ For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

²¹ For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. ²² Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools ²³ and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles.

²⁴ Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. ²⁵ They exchanged the truth about God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.

²⁶ Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. ²⁷ In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.

²⁸ Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done. ²⁹ They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, ³⁰ slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; ³¹ they have no understanding, no fidelity, no love, no mercy. ³² Although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.

References:

http://movies.yahoo.com/news/box-office-report-ted-earns-record-54-1-155620510.html

http://ibnlive.in.com/news/literary-phenomenon-50-shades-of-grey-outsell-harry-potter/269018-40-103.html

I Can't Play Your Game

It makes me sick,
This little trick -
It gets me every time.

You set to win
Then enter in,
Take all those bets of mine.

How I ramble
As I gamble
And you play the game so right.

Now I'm left wanting
And your ghost is haunting...
Did you do it out of spite?

~Heidi Joens

What a precious morning!

Today was my last day with my cooperating teacher in Field Based 2. I have been in first grade ever since the week before Spring Break, and they are some of the most precious children I have ever met. This morning I was asked upon entering the classroom to teach during the time I was there, and while it was a bit of a difficult morning with their desks having been rearranged and the rowdiness brought to a new level, I was able to leave on a very good note.

The first precious comment I received, although a bit silly, happened when little McKayla raised her hand and asked, "Miss Cinderella, can I go to the bathroom?" My immediate reaction was to laugh at randomly being referred to as a fairy tale character, and in response to this she looked at me, placed her hand on her hip, and said, "Well, you do look like Cinderella," as if this was an obvious fact I should have known already. This same girl has once before asked me if I was Rapunzel.

I announced about ten minutes before I would be having to leave that it was my last day with them. There was a chorus of "aww"s and "No!"s around the room - of course it is always touching when they are sad to see you go. I then informed them that I had brought a little something to give them before I left, and immediately the classroom mood changed as a "Yay!" was announced unanimously. I pulled out of my bag bookmarks with various pictures on them ready to be colored and let each child pick out the one he or she wanted. By this time the teacher had come back into the room and it was time for me to go.

Their teacher gathered everyone's attention and told them again that it was my last day and that I was about to leave. Immediately, the three students closest to where I was standing threw their arms around me as the rest of the class started moving in our direction. The teacher instructed for them to get in a line and take turns hugging me, but some of them would not pull away and even had to be pulled off by the teacher so that other students could have their turn - how precious!! I cherish moments like these.

One of the girls came up to me with her bookmark during all the hugs and asked if I could sign it so that she could "remember me". :) Of course I obliged. Soon enough, a couple other students came up to me with their bookmarks and a sharpie asking if they could have my "autograph". Suddenly I was a celebrity! I'm not sure why that term came up, but there very quickly formed another line of students all wanting me to sign their bookmarks that I had just handed out. I signed my name about 22 times, and by this point I was way past my due time to leave.

On my way to the door, their teacher asked if they could allow me to get to the door and ordered for no one to "grab at me", but a couple students gave me another hug anyways, and how could I not hug them back? They were so sweet and, obviously my favorite word to use in describing them: precious. I would not have traded this experience for the world. :)

Blinded

I wanted you
To be my light,
So I put sunglasses on.
I imagined you
So very bright,
But my perception was all wrong.
The shades obscured
My point of view,
And when I finally removed them,
There you stood,
A faded blue,
A rock and not a gem.
My shoulders slumped
And head dropped low
As disappointment reigned;
Cupid must have
Bent his arrow
When he nocked and aimed.

~Heidi Joens

"She steps out of the room and returns with a small portrait of her face in profile. Her hair is pulled back off her forehead and her lips are creased in a Mona Lisa smile. Booth thanks Lucy and gives her a long last look. He then turns and walks out of the Hales' suite, explaining breezily that he is off to get a shave, wondering if he will ever make it to Spain to see Lucy again.

As he walks back down the hallway, the sound of the closing door still echoing in the corridor, he admires the picture and slips it into his breast pocket, next to the pictures of four other women who have enjoyed his charms. The life of a narcissist is often cluttered.

The pictures will remain in Booth's pocket for the rest of his short life."

~Killing Lincoln

This book gives so much insight to the people and the era around the time of Lincoln's death and the end of the Civil War. So much is discovered about the character of John Wilkes Booth - who he is, his personal interests, his beliefs and morals - and he is just one of many people in our nation's history that the authors highlight. I have to say, I was a fan of Lincoln before, and after reading so much about his priorities, his conduct, and how he made his decisions, my respect for him has increased dramatically. The book reads like a thriller and many of the chapters end with a profound statement like the one mentioned above. I love the author's simple explanation of Booth's overall character that can be made after discussing his romantic interests: "The life of a narcissist is often cluttered."

Tongue-Tied

I feel trapped inside my head
With words I dare not speak.
If I voice them,
You might hear,
And then you'd know everything.
Like a puzzle
You would place the pieces
That are so easy to match,
But I'm not ready
To be solved.
I only feel safe
Behind this secret -
I don't care
If that makes me weak.
These words are mine,
Known only to me.

~Heidi Joens

After every interaction between us

It's there -

A knot of anger twisting inside me

Made from a string of hope

Meddled by imprecations

I make on myself

For being so daft to hope for such a thing.

It swells until my breathing quickens

And I nearly choke on the tangled mess.

But my composure I keep as my strength I regain -

Stronger the longer

You are away.

The knot unravels

And I nearly forget

All the trouble this was -

Until we meet again.

You will never change,

And as well you will never know

How I suffer each time we get close.

~Heidi Joens

I love field experience in being a teacher!!

"Hi Ms. Joens!"

I stopped in the middle of writing Math problems on the board and turned to see José, Carolina, and Leo, three of the 4th graders in the class I assist in twice a week. Now crossing the room to meet them, I returned the greeting, "Good morning guys!"

"Can we come in?"

Their teacher had stepped out of the room and left me with the task of creating Math warm-up problems before her class arrived for the day. Usually she had them wait outside in a line if she was not yet in the room. Not wanting to disrupt her morning routine, I hesitated in my response, debating whether or not it was a good idea.

"Well...I'm not so sure your teacher wants you in the room without her here."

"But you're a teacher!" Leo protested.

"Actually I'm not quite there yet. Still studying to be one.."

"But you look like one," José added.

I laughed at this and over dramatically brushed some hair back with my hand while using the other to gesture toward my clothes saying, "I try, I try."

They all laughed at my sudden change in character and then asked it they would be having another sub today (they had had one the past two days).

"No, your real teacher's back today!"

They were grateful for that, and I decided to inform them that I would have the chance to teach them a Math lesson a week from today. "But, you will have another sub on that day," I told them.

"Oh man! Too many subs!" Leo complained.

"But I'll be here too!" I tried to offer.

"Yeah but you're never here the whole day!" José reminded me (I only stay until 10am)

I couldn't help but smile because nearly every day that I am there someone lets me know they are disappointed that I always have to leave "so early". It's nice to know they like me!

"I'll tell you what, I will let you in if you promise to sit quietly for your teacher and start those Math problems on the board."

"Yes ma'am!"

They really are such a polite bunch.

Those kids are getting comfortable with me now and are raising their hands asking for "Ms. Joens" when they don't understand a problem and are always trying to tell me little stories and figure out some more information about me. As I was standing by Ana's desk today she asked, "Do you still have my bunny?" About a week ago she had drawn me a picture of a bunny eating carrots with the words "From Ana". It was so precious I had to keep it. "Yes," I reassured her with a smile, "I have it at my apartment."

And as always whenever I have to leave, the class burst out in a chorus of "Bye Ms. Joens!" and "See you next week!" all wildly waving their arms. They truly have captured my hearts and I know I am going to love, absolutely love, being a teacher! :)

"...What a transfiguration it is to love! Notary clerks become gods. And the little shrieks, the pursuits in the grass, the waists encircled by stealth, the jargon that is melody, the adoration that breaks through in the way a syllable is said, those cherries snatched from one pair of lips by another - it all catches fire and turns into celestial glories. Beautiful girls lavish their charms with sweet prodigality. We imagine it will never end. Philosophers, poets, painters behold these ecstasies and don't know what to make of them, they are so dazzling." - Victor Hugo in Les Miserables

There was never a man like Rhett

I can't quite describe what it was like reading through Gone With the Wind. Yes, it was a long book (959 pages!), but so worth the read. I learned so much from the novel, not just about the characters but about the time period. The Civil War completely changed our nation, and this novel, as author Margaret Mitchell says, is not one of romance, but rather a story about survival.Even with that being said, I cannot tell you how entertaining it was to read the dialogue between Scarlett and Rhett. I have never before read about characters such as these...they're so unique and so... devilish. I included a bit of their dialogue here just to give a sample of their interchange,but honestly, you have to read the book and get to know their characters in order to truly appreciate it.

It makes me sad to think about how when this book was published in the late 1930's it was as popular as Twilight is today. Can you imagine everyone you know picking up a book that is almost 1000 pages, written the way it is, and actually reading through the whole thing just for pleasure? These things don't happen anymore, unless the book involves vampires and teen romance. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed reading the Twilight Saga just as much as the next person, but what has happened to our desire to truly read?? I am the only one my age that Iknow of who has actually read Gone With the Wind, and I can honestly say it is my favorite novel! And because of how unpopular it is today, I feel like it is my own little secret. Such brilliance lies within those pages.

"I don't care for such personal conversation," she said coolly and managed a frown. "Besides, I'd just as soon kiss a pig."

"There's no accounting for tastes and I've always heard the Irish were partial to pigs - kept them under their beds, in fact. But, Scarlett, you need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with you. All your beaux have respected you too much, though God knows why, or they have been too afraid of you to really do right by you. The result is that you are unendurably uppity. You should be kissed and by someone who knows how."

The conversation was not going the way she wanted it. It never did when she was with him. Always, it was a duel in which she was worsted.

"And I suppose you think you are the proper person?" she asked with sarcasm, holding her temper in check with difficulty.

"Oh, yes, if I cared to take the trouble," he said carelessly. "They say I kiss very well."

"Oh," she began, indignant at the slight to her charms. "Why, you..." But her eyes fell in sudden confusion. He was smiling, but in the dark depths of his eyes a tiny light flickered for a brief moment, like a small raw flame.

"Of course, you've probably wondered why I never tried to follow up that chaste peck I gave you, the day I brought you that bonnet - "

"I have never - "

"Then you aren't a nice girl, Scarlett, and I'm sorry to hear it. All really nice girls wonder when men don't try to kiss them. They know they shouldn't want them to and they know they must act insulted if they do, but just the same, they wish the men would try... Well, my dear, take heart. Some day, I will kiss you and you will like it. But not now, so I beg you not to be too impatient."

--Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

I was skimming through my journal today and came across this entry I made last June. I thought I might as well put it here...I still remember how scared and sick I felt after this dream.

Saturday, 6-12-10

Last night I had a dream that was absolutely terrifying. It was the end of the world, catastrophes were happening, and me and my family needed to leave our home immediately. It deeply depressed me that a life I had built would be left behind to be obliterated in destruction. All the things I had worked so hard for: mementos, memories, photographs, records of what I did and who I was. I knew there was no time but I grabbed a suitcase and hurriedly shoved things in from left and right. Everything I saw was something I wanted, something I had to keep. It was hard to make decisions and soon I couldn't think because I was so dizzy. My family rushed me to the car and I threw my things in the back - I had packed more than the other five combined. We jumped in and raced off, for danger was right at our heels.
It was the end of the world - the end of the world! Nothing would be the same. I started reviewing in my mind the things I had grabbed, and suddenly I realized - I had forgotten my Bible. It was only the single most important thing to own in the end times and I, in my haste to preserve the memory of my own life, had left it behind. I felt absolutely sick realizing my mistake, for it truly proved where my priorities were. How could I have been so selfish - so foolish? How would God forgive me then?


This was just interesting to me because especially recently I have been realizing that my priorities are not where they need to be. I've been letting myself get distracted by just a whirlwind of life and have not been putting God first before everything. This is not ok.

Dangerous Game

Roll the dice

And here we play

At this table -

A dangerous game.

The odds are only

In your favor,

At any moment I could lose.

I passed quietly

Behind your chair,

And then you turned

And saw me there.

You grabbed me quickly

And with a sultry smile

Placed in my fist

The cursed die.

I should have cast them

To the ground,

Should have ignored

Your wink and grin.

Your touch should have never

Caused blood to rush,

Coloring cheeks

With a rosy blush.

But this game I play

As your invitation convinced

Me - I was blind

To your few cheap tricks.

Rolling and tossing,

I continue this bet,

But my name is

Amateur,

And I lose all I get.

Please tell me to quit,

Shoo me away,

I've had enough of casinos,

Enough of cards,

I'm done with suits and cigarettes.

Tell me,

For I haven't believed yet.

~Heidi Joens

"No sooner did I see that his attention was riveted on them, and that I might gaze without being observed, than my eyes were drawn involuntarily to his face; I could not keep their lids under control; they would rise, and the irids would fix on him. I looked, and had an acute pleasure in looking - a precious, yet poignant pleasure; pure gold, with a steely point of agony; a pleasure like what the thirst-perishing man might feel who knows the well to which he has crept is poisoned, yet stoops and drinks divine draughts nevertheless."

Well put, Charlotte Bronte, well put.

Chasm

Chasm by Flyleaf (<-- click the name to hear the song)

When I first heard this song, the only part that really stood out to me was the chorus:

"Please, give me something, I'm so thirsty, I'm so thirsty.

Please, let me warn them, don't you come here, don't bring anyone here."

I had just been going through the whole CD not paying too much attention to all the lyrics of each song, but these words rang clear as I drove around Arlington that day. I played it again trying to figure out what on earth the song was talking about. I actually googled the meaning later to see how other people had interpreted the song. In doing this I found the most likely explanation to be that she was talking about hell. Still, that song was kind of weird to me and I wasn't exactly sure what to think of it.

This all happened a year ago or so, but this past Sunday I was reminded of this song again. My pastor gave a sermon on hell and the reality of it as he was countering beliefs of universalism currently being spread by people such as Rob Bell. One of the scriptures he referenced was Luke 16:19-31, which is the story of the rich man and Lazarus. It is a very interesting passage and I encourage you to read it.

If this can give you any kind of glimpse into the eternal torment of hell, just imagine what kind of fate we are all rescued from (when I say "all", I mean fellow believers, that is not a universal statement). It just boggles my mind the kind of request that the rich man asks of Abraham: "Have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire." (v. 24) Just the tip of his finger?? That's the kind of refreshment the rich man is looking for? How desperate of a state must he be in to see a touch of a wet finger as some sort of relief?

Reading on as the man finds out that a great chasm has been fixed so that no one may cross over between heaven and hell, you'll see that he asks,

27"'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house,

28 for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.'

29 Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.'

30 'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'

31 He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

Wow, can you imagine the regret he has for having not believed when he was alive on the Earth and had the chance to be saved? And how desperate he is to see his family saved! But it is true that we have the Word of God here telling us the truth and it is up to us to believe it. Does this stir anything in you as you consider the fates of so many people we are sharing this Earth with today?? We are on a rescue mission. We need to beg of them to consider the gospel.

Do you see how this story matches up with the lyrics? I just find it all very interesting, and that song seems very artistic now.

There was a rhythmic pounding in my dreams,

One strong enough to wake me,

But as my weary eye transpired

The beats echoed in the stillness.

My head tried hard to remember the taste,

To contain the knowledge of you at my door,

But you're there no more.

What are these dreams that recur

Threatening to never grant me peace?

If only to be cast out of my mind forever!

Forgotten and abandoned.

But no, I wouldn't dare forget,

Don't confiscate that memory from me!

Let it rest on my pillow

And greet me each night.

Too fond of you, I am,

To let it from my sight.

So I keep it on my pillow

And just for sanity's sake,

I hardly ever slumber.

~Heidi Joens

So raw these words fall from my mouth

And form themselves on a page,

It is the only place I'm honest,

Often the reader is just myself.

I must create a work of art

That represents my heart.

When wounds cut deep

I bleed out words

And clean them up with paper.

When feelings fester

And rage comes forth,

The pencil is my tool

To orchestrate a remedy

Before I am a fool.

When joy is eminent and flooding over

I laugh out couplets and rhymes.

Words not spoken but words that are thought,

Modified,

Written.

These are the words that encapsulate

All that I am, by God permitting.

~Heidi Joens

Wicked

"So he stalked her again. Love makes hunters of us all." - Gregory Maguire