Crash into me – June 5, 2009 | Part 2

“How are you, by the way?” you say.

I smile and say, “Well, I feel shaky.”

“That’s the adrenaline,” you say.

“I don’t feel sore yet, but I was looking backward when he hit us,” I say.

“You’ll probably feel it later,” you say.

Crash into me – June 5, 2009 | Part 1

I nod, looking at you, and when I turn my attention back to the road, I notice a red Mercedes convertible in front of me, stopped in the middle of my lane, its right blinker flashing. While we’ve been talking, I have been accelerating toward it, distracted by you. I pump the brake hard, and just barely, I manage to stop a foot from its bumper.

Then time slows. I turn my neck to the right and look up into the rearview mirror. I see a white box truck coming up fast. I brace as it slams into the back of the car.

Come with Me – May 22, 2009

Jeremy: hey I’ve been looking at that conference… I got in touch with the guy in charge, and he sent me a schedule.

me: So cool! Live jazz, bach cello recital, music collage, a play, “art as a gift to rehumanize the world”! This sounds like the sweetest conference ever. I hope you’re going to go with me, because it’d be more fun to go with somebody I know. : )

Uninvited – May 14, 2009

I do not at all take to heart the passage from Mark 4 that we discuss at bible study the day before: “A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come.” (Mark 4:26-29, NIV)

I ignore the truth it screams at me: growth is slow, imperceptible, out of my control. A seed can’t be rushed into a stalk into a wheat germ. I cannot prod it along with my tears and anxiety and journaling and library stalking, not even a little bit.

Even so, I am desperate for signs of change. Which is probably why, when your teenage sister texts – she got my number from you, and she wants to know if I’d like to come over to hang out with her – I think, sure, why not, and by the way, maybe I’ll just happen to see you while I’m at your house hanging out with your high-school aged sister. Surprise!

Thank God it’s Tuesday | May 12, 2009

I sweat during the whole twenty minute drive to TGI Fridays to attend my welcome home party, cranking up the AC even though it’s practically snowing outside the car windows – what if you’re there? What if you’re not there? I’d just arrived back in Colorado Springs that day, after a long drive from the […]

Taken | April 20, 2009

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” I say.

“Aw, Liz,” Karen says. “I know it kind of sucks, but I’m really happy you like him so much.”

“Yeah, well, I have mixed feelings about it,” I say.

The Jesus in Mary Jane

I turned my nose up at my weed-smoking neighbors. I described them to friends as “old hippies,” I rolled my eyes at them, and I wondered, “Do they even have jobs? What do they do all day?”

I even tried to root my feelings in my Christian faith. But Christianity has this sneaky core tenant about loving your neighbors, even the ones you don’t like. I actually believe that Jesus died for people who hated him, so I could not escape the pang in my gut that told me I was straight-up wrong in feeling so great about myself and feeling resentful toward them — I could not escape it, that is, unless I simply chose to ignore it.

That’s what I did: I ignored this gnawing expertly, just magnificently, until the day I actually met my neighbors.

In Real Life – early May 2009 | Part 2

I tell myself that it’s appropriate that you would not contact me. After all, my entire time in the state of Colorado has added up to four months — hardly enough to build an attachment — and then to make things worse, I up and left for a month. It’s not like we regularly chatted over the phone. And we’re just friends, remember? Plus God must want me all to Himself. Just me and him, like always. And that’s a good thing. Right? Of course. Glad we had this talk.

In Real Life – April 2009 | Part 1

[All photos from Unsplash] This is a serial telling of my falling-in-love story. Read the story from the very beginning here. It’s too late: even if you had been rehearsing the right words just this morning in the bathroom mirror so you could flawlessly ask me out after bible study, I’m leaving Colorado for awhile. My internships […]

I Care What Jesus Looks Like

For most of my life, I assumed Jesus was an effeminate white guy. Of course, that had something to do with the fact that every depiction I saw confirmed that: shoulder-length brown hair, blue eyes, creamy skin, clean-shaven face, slim figure. Basically, Jesus looked a lot like me.