when we were young, oh oh, (we did enough)

"Stubborn Love" by The Lumineers from Look Sessions on Vimeo.

it's better to feel pain than nothing at all
the opposite of love's indifference
so keep your head up, keep your love
keep your head up, my love

''Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.''
       -Helen Keller

''And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.''
       -Erica Jong

give me shelter, or show me heart (come on love, come on love) watch me fall apart / watch me fall apart

resurrection days

first poppies of the year, stark orange against the lilac
violet, white, and lavender, crowding all the streets you run
some bloom already fallen, other trees only beginning to bear any trace of green

spring's shed, a million leaves of norway maple (the ones that look like helicopters)
dancing in the windlight, tiny fragments tossed into your squinting eyes
other springs recalled

of daily sojourns in golden gate park, riding the #9 bus down potrero from market
the jesusita fire and east mountain sunsets (with or without you) of santa barbara
in london, borough market, the tate modern,
the british museum & its stolen rosetta stone
just blocks from your own life
monmouth coffee and fragment jasmine in a city of car exhaust and trash
the wetlands and birdsong on cedar street in the house with hardwood floors
oh, how many miles these feet have walked!

and finally, baleadas and thunderstorms, corina's desayunos deliciosos
(buen provecho),
giovanni driving us into the city para la ocifina de inmigración
singing worship songs with Nuevo in the morning,
teaching those 27 precious & adored ones the anthems of another tribe
oh the turmoil and suffering, the beauty and passion of that other land!

yes, spring hurts
as K. expressed on the miles of another tread
and yet these are Resurrection Days
and One continues to call us out of death and into life
to move from orphanhood and into daughterhood, sonship, in every stream and river

so leave that foul grave, that empty tomb
put to death your own bitter heart, hopelessness, and vanity
be made new
filled with the breath of the air of the country of heaven
which, as we know,
is colonizing earth.

primera dia de primavera

So much I know, that things don't just grow

if you don't bless them with your patience

And I've been there before, I held up the door

for every stranger with a promise

But I'm holding back, that's the strength I lack

every morning keeps returning at my window

And it brings me to you, and I won't just past through

but I'm not asking for a storm...

I've been thinking about how the root of responsible is ''response'' (and in Spanish also, responsable y responder)--to fulfill an obligation, to come through, to act on or respond to the information or knowledge you've been given, entrusted with. Not to be indifferent or unresponsive, pretending or living like you never heard.

Looking at my notes from Ash Wednesday at St. Paul's, I've been thinking how our purpose as ambassadors for Christ is the slow sanctification of the whole world, beginning with ourselves. Acting as ambassadors of blessing and joy: to make Jesus famous in the earth. Representing the Way over a cup of coffee or glass of wine.

To add to that, something I was reading in Radix that Eugene Peterson writes, our work as followers of the Way is, ''living as a colony of heaven in the country of death.''

I know colony is a word fraught with problematic paradigms and ugly historical events, but in this case, I think I like it. That connotation it carries of moving in, moving in to stay (not, ''The earth's going to burn up, so fuck it'') , but actually chemically and aesthetically and completely changing a place.

And Heaven meaning Life, Peace, Freedom--to proclaim the green good news that we can be healed and made whole, even in a country of death. And it is not empty positivity or mindless happiness, but it is Jesus, who enters the mess.

Oh, that his story would be stitched into us! That we would respond, and not be left unchanged.

I was just reading about a project Apple did last year for the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma, creating Cherokee keyboards and computers so that the language is not lost, so that Cherokee children can be taught in their own language at an immersion school.

So cool!

the thrill of possibilities

I've been madly scribbling down notes from interesting seminars lately, and mulling over possible dreams-to-make-happen for 2012:

#1) Katie & Pekos' wedding!! SB, Feb.
#2) Visit Elle in Colorado.
#3) Run Denver Marathon with her?

But besides this, I'd like to announce that I am now a grad-school applicant, to one-and-a-half programs so far, and one-and-a-half more (at least!) coming.

I love school, I love taking notes, it's been almost three years, and I am so excited!!

However, also exciting: knowing that maybe I will just move to Mexico instead. Wide open skies, honey.

more adventures from first grade

''?Donde quieres ir?'' La maestra asks the first graders. ''You can go anywhere you want, and with anyone you want.''

''?Para yo? Yo quiero ir a Francia, con mi mamá.'' She draws a picture of the Eiffel Tower. Half the class copies her answer in the same prompt. José, however, follows his heart.

''Yo quiero ir a la Pulga.'' ''?A la Pulga?'' I ask la otra maestra, knowing the word means flea. ''Mercador de pulga,'' she clarifies. ''The Flea Market, in Pasco.''

There is the pre-schooler a co-worker told me about. My friend, a tall white 20-year-old, was asking this little boy what his name was. The boy was so shy he actually covered his face with his hand, then proceeded to remain that way throughout the entire snacktime, eating his Cheerios.

Or R, who always wants to partner with me in the ''Hola Amigo'' song in Spanish Social Studies every morning. ''How's it going, R?'' I asked. ''Not so good,'' he replied, hand on his lower back. ''Yesterday I fell off my bike and broke my back.''

There is G, who comes to school late every day with hair sticking up like he just woke up, wrapped in his mother's jacket. N, in foster care, who always talks about missing his mom, to whom I've learned to say I'm sorry, you can't hold my hand, because I know he won't let go.

Some names I have written down (from just one kindergarten class) include: August, Diamond, Unity, Kannin, Arasely, Chris C. (apparently there are two), and Tiyauna. Some spellings on third-grade posters in the hallway: ''She is dansen.'' ''The gurl is flexebo.'' ''Dicas da sun muds.'' (That's ''Because the sun moves.'') and elfelfat (for elephant).

And oh, I love these kids, but sometimes it is incredible to think how we ever learn so much.

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues strong
It's always darkest before the dawn

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around

And our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues strong
But it's always darkest before the dawn

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It's a final mess but it's left me so empty
It's always darkest before the dawn

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope
It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat
Looking for heaven, for the devil in me
Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out

sisters in india

Elle and Rita's writing from their current pilgrimage through India is worth reading, if you have a minute.

I know I only post in other people's words these days, but this quote got me:

"If you keep telling the truth, regardless of how embarrassing, it'll have a profound effect on you. It'll begin to free and heal you. And you'll actually begin to behave like less of a neanderthal.''