Dear Bethany,

Many, many years ago,

on a warm and sunny beach

in a faraway land,

You and I bonded...

Because of some cheery yellow friends,

Which you now wear daily on your arm.

In honor of our two-year friendiversary,

this September,

you're invited....

to God's Wild.

Otherwise known as:

My parents' farm....

Otherwise known as:

Where I grew up.

How?

You + Me + Jet

Three day weekend.

We'll skip a class or two if needed.

Why?

Because my parents are planting a garden,

one acre square...

and it will need to be harvested.

This year is special though.

In honor of the Jubilee,

we're only planting one crop:

Sunflowers.

This garden always has a row of sunflowers bordering it.

They provide a landmark for weary travelers,

and a smile for old friends.

But this year,

They'll be the whole garden.

So come visit.

Sip tea on my back porch.

Frolic with the kittens.

Wander in the woods.

Then help us harvest some sunshine.

And feel free to fill your pockets with some seeds for your own yard.

Sound good?

Turning Northward

I'm sittin' in the railway station, got a ticket for my destination
On a tour of one-night-stands, my suitcase and guitar at hand
And every stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band

Homeward bound, I wish I was homeward bound
Home, where my thoughts escape, at home, where my music's playin'
Home, where my love lies waitin' silently for me.

Homeward bound.

-Paul Simon

Mathematics

Grown up lesson for the day:

Life is not a math equation.

Background:

I am math-brained. This doesn't mean that I like math. I dislike it. Strongly. I would even venture to use the word "hate." Maybe. I got into DU in part because my high school math teacher of two years wrote a recommendation letter explaining that I persevered in her class DESPITE my dislike of math.

My host dad thought it was because I was bad at it. False. I'm good at math, at least, above average. He would lecture me to study more whenever I told him that I didn't like the class, and I gave up trying to explain to him that I had the highest grade in the class. It's not that I don't understand it.

The problem is that I find numbers boring.

I know this is going to have some of you "math people" up in arms. I know that they don't have to be boring. Some people can do amazing things with math. I respect that. More power to you. I'm just not one of those people. Numbers don't do much for me. I love shapes and angles and geometry, but after a certain point, I don't find much space for creativity.

That being said, I am still math-brained. Counting calms me down. I like balance and order and organized systems. I get equations. They make sense to me. I think of languages as formulas, and I create cost/benefit comparisons for most big decisions I face.

But I realize that you can't always apply math to life, especially to people, no matter how hard you try to make it work.

Sure, sometimes you can. An example would be:

[(Hours spent reading) + (amount of homework turned in) - (class absences)] x (effort) = Class Grade

But sometimes you can't. Here's what it would look like in my head:

[[(frequency of shared meals) + (accidental eye contact in chapel)] x (amount of invites) - (number of minutes between texts) ] / number of women = value on a scale from 1 to 100 of how much he likes me

...because that's how the world works. Not.

Or how about this one:

[(scripture chapters read daily) x (intensity of prayers) + (number of chapel scans) x (good deeds)] - (negative thoughts / laziness) = how much God likes me and likelihood that we'll get into Flex next year

Right. Because there's nothing Biblical on THAT idea.

Moral of the story? Equations are great for helping manage a bank account or remember grammar rules in Spanish. Equations are not so great for applying to personal relationships.

People just don't fit within logical laws, that's what makes them so interesting.

What Life Looks Like [revisited]

I've been posing this question over and over in different words since I moved here.

So, three months in, here is the current answer:

Life looks like:

Schoolwork. Lots of it. And the words "Intro to..." in front of every class title.

7am caf-breakfast "dates" to finish last-minute reading assignments.

Seeing my roommate in the library more often than in our room.

A desk that is still my haven, though I now share it with an epileptic betta-fish named Mussorgsky.

This:

"Wild" Friday nights spent on the cliffs with good friends sharing time, tea, and testimony.

Late-night guitar jams.

Impromptu cookie-baking gatherings in friends' apartments.

Bike rides. Lots of them.

Weekends in Tijuana.

Preparing for a ministry leadership role next semester.

Looking forward to "passing the peace" on Sundays.

Making "home" here.

A Steamy Evening...

...is best created by breaking the washing machine and running the dryer for too long with too-wet clothes. They literally steam when you pull them out in defeat after two hours of trying to make them dry.

This, however, is NOT the best way to make friends with your hall mates.

The only good thing about Tuesday

is the chocolate-chip cookies in the caf at lunch.

Otherwise, it's just a terrible 24-hour period.

The Silly Thing I Did Today

Some time ago a good friend taught me the beauty of jicima sprinkled with chili powder.

Yum.

Today, the caf had jicima....but no chili powder.

So....

Being the genius that I am, I opted to bathe the whole plate in Tabasco.

Note: Tabasco ≠ Chili powder.

[It would also be helpful to point out that I am mildly allergic to chili oil. A little doesn't hurt, but it does get REALLY spicy REALLY fast.]

So with my mouth in flames, my throat constricting, and my eyes watering, I did the only logical thing: I started chugging milk.

It wasn't until the third glass that I remembered the unfortunate truth:

I'm lactose intolerant.

and once again, I display my genius. I'm afraid tonight is going to be one giant stomachache.

New Addition

The newest addition to NW707.

He needs a name.