PS: I love my fam. . .

Tonight, while I was watching Gilmore Girls with my sis and bingeing on ice cream (hey, last free ice cream I'll have for a while!), my parentals called me into the kitchen. "Mel, do you have two minutes? We have something to show you!" I was expecting them to ask me to pay another installment on my loan or something, since they ask me that all the time lately; but no, instead I saw, spread all over the kitchen table, a week's worth of groceries that they had bought for me. I'm moving into my house in Minneapolis tomorrow, and they bought me my first groceries so that I wouldn't have to buy them myself. I always knew I liked my parents, I just forget sometimes how great they are.

Something else that is amazing: last night, after family dinner (which is a good time too, I must admit, free food with the fam and chatting about my sister's first days of 10th grade- classic), my dad went into the living room, dug out his gigantic headphones from the sixties, and proceeded to lay on the floor for the next two hours, listening to Beach Boys albums. I went in there for a brief period of time to dig out a movie from the entertainment center, and he and I sang a few tunes together while I was searching. It's quite a lovely thing to inherit, my dad has passed his extensive knowledge of Beach Boys lyrics and music to me. It's quite endearing.

Last week, I went with my sister for our annual picture at the park day. What began as an accident has grown into our tradition. When she was in 6th grade, we went to the park to take a bunch of pictures, just practicing our photography skills with Mom's super nice camera. Well, almost the whole roll was ruined, because yours truly opened it too early, but a few pictures were salvaged, one of which was a phenomenal portrait of my sister, sitting up in a tree, looking pensive and pretty. So, that became her school picture for the year (who likes those headshots at school, anyway?), and since then, I have always taken her to the park in August before school starts, and we have our own photo shoot. This year was really fun, she looked so pretty in her pictures; we even had several different outfits- it's getting sophisticated now! In the first picture I took of her ni 6th grade, she looks really young, and now she looks mature and really beautiful. She looks a lot like my mom. I had a good time with her that day, I enjoyed hanging out and talking and just laughing together.

I have had the past week and a half to organize my room and pack everything for moving to college. I have to confess, I'm moving tomorrow, and I'm barely packed. I know, sad-perhaps a result of procrastination. But, also, perhaps I don't want to face two inevitable realities: First, tomorrow, I'm moving away from home. I can't say if this is the time I'm moving away for good, but I'm moving away from this place that has regained its familiarity in my mind throughout this summer. It fits again, like an worn glove. I possibly thought that this summer would be difficult, living at home again during the summer, being with my family. But I must say, I enjoyed being here, feeling safe and comfortable, and just enjoying my family. The other reality that I must face is moving down to college for my LAST semester. I must confess, I am filled with a mix of feelings, some that are like senioritis, while others are nostalgia and sadness to leave my dear friends that I have known, and also the apprehension to "begin the rest of my life." The end of college symbolizes the beginning of everything else. It's not like I'm being horribly dramatic about graduating, I know I'll survive it and thrive. . . . . .But I just wish that I wasn't so incredibly uncertain about what the rest of my life will be. I wish that I had at least SOME vague idea about where I am going and what I will be doing after graduation. It's all pretty vague to me right now. As much as being at Bethel annoyed me and bothered me sometimes, and as much as I was cynical of the institution, I really do love the people there, and the priceless people that I am privileged to know.

That's all I'm thinking about. . . . .now I'm writing a poem for Megan Greulich. . . .it'll be a classic someday. I surely am ADD tonight. . . .

"Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity. It is an act of justice. It is the protection of a fundamental human right, the right to dignity and a decent life. While poverty persists, there is no true freedom.
"Sometimes it falls upon a generation to be great. You can be that great generation. Let your greatness blossom. Of course the task will not be easy. But not to do this would be a crime against humanity, against which I ask all humanity now to rise up. " Nelson Mandela

Probably my favorite song EVER.

I’m going to rent myself a house
In the shade of the freeway
I’m going to pack my lunch in the morning
And go to work each day
And when the evening rolls around
I’ll go on home and lay my body down
And when the morning light comes streaming in
I’ll get up and do it again
Amen
Say it again
Amen

I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening
I’ve been aware of the time going by
They say in the end it’s the wink of an eye
And when the morning light comes streaming in
You’ll get up and do it again
Amen

Caught between the longing for love
And the struggle for the legal tender
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender
Where the veterans dream of the fight
Fast asleep at the traffic light
And the children solemnly wait
For the ice cream vendor
Out into the cool of the evening
Strolls the pretender
He knows that all his hopes and dreams
Begin and end there

Ah the laughter of the lovers
As they run through the night
Leaving nothing for the others
But to choose off and fight
And tear at the world with all their might
While the ships bearing their dreams
Sail out of sight

I’m going to find myself a girl
Who can show me what laughter means
And we’ll fill in the missing colors
In each other’s paint-by-number dreams
And then we’ll put out dark glasses on
And we’ll make love until our strength is gone
And when the morning light comes streaming in
We’ll get up and do it again
Get it up again

I’m going to be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
Thought true love could have been a contender
Are you there?
Say a prayer for the pretender
Who started out so young and strong
Only to surrender

-Jackson Browne-

Ruminations. . .

I often have periods of deep thought, when I wish I had my journal or my blog close at hand, because I need to express things out of my feeble mind in order for them to make sense. Does that make sense? :)

I realized this morning, as I was getting ready for the day, what a curse it is to have this computer in my house, and now to have a new cell phone. They only serve to magnify loneliness! For most of the summer, I had neither one, and I knew that I was lonely, but I almost reveled in it, because I had things that deserved my attention, like novels and poetry and my own writing and thinking. When I come on the internet, and log on at a futile attempt to find connection with another human being, I almost always am sorely disappointed. I crave genuine interaction, of which is sorely lacking on my internet conversations. My email box seems to fill up with college course updates and non-profit organizations' promo emails and my BBC news updates, but I so often log on in hopes to see the name of someone familiar, and read their thoughts to me, so that I can reply back with my thoughts to them.

I also fought the need to get a cell phone for so long, with arguments that I did not want to become a slave to technology. And now that I HAVE become one, I now realize that my real problem with the infernal contraption is that you can have it on your person for hours and days on end, and it only serves as a reminder that NO ONE has called. Check my phone again? Oh, no one has called. See if I have any messages? Well, still no one has called. Alas, I was content for most of the summer with my basic existence with books and writing and chores for my family- it left me to have ample time to think and ponder. Now, I feel restless because I OUGHT to be having human interactions, and I'm not. Before, I didn't really care if I had human interactions or not, because I really didn't even have the option, so I was quite content in my aloneness.

So, I don't think there is much purpose to machines like cell phones and internet, except to magnify the aloneness that each human feels anyway.

And perhaps, my loneliness is not just a product of these new technological means of communication, perhaps it is because I am restless and running from something that I can't even imagine. I've rejected God for most of this summer, even had periods of staunch atheism, and now I have an inexplicable restlessness, as if God is chasing me. I mostly am apathetic about God, not necessarily by choice all of the time, because I don't usually think about God during the day. If most of us were honest with ourselves, we would realize that we don't usually think about God during our busy, fast-paced American days either. Only when we slow down enough to think and to BE and to hear our own hearts do we realize that there is a mystical realm that is snuffed out by our loud and endless busyness. I don't ever want to live my life in such busyness that I can't have a sense for the mystical spirituality that is God's communication with us and ours with him or her. I see so many of my friends succumbing to the same pattern that I did for several years: the pattern of endless burnout. We think that we constantly have to be proving ourselves by remaining as busy as possible, and doing as many selfless things for God as we can. But we need to STOP and have a dose of our humanness. When I was asked to leave Youthworks at the beginning of this summer, it was almost like it was a forced sabbatical from leadership and ministry, which I desperately needed, but wasn't willing to admit that I needed. This summer has been almost a type of sabbath for me, a time of rest and change. I haven't even had time before to process things that I experienced a year ago, like my grandma's death or my travels to Youthworks or Guatemala last spring and summer. Something ironic that my pastor used to always say at my home church: "If the devil can't make you bad, he'll just make you busy."

So, what are we doing? Trying to prove ourselves? Trying to keep going so fast so that we don't have to hear our own hearts? So that we don't have to hear what God might actually say to us if we sat long enough to hear it honestly? I can't make myself endlessly busy again, because it cheapens life and it cheapens who I am. I become someone who only has brief moments of time to pencil in, but not with authentic real time to give to anyone.

My passion at Bethel is to challenge others to think for themselves. To dare to imagine that God is found in more than just the prescribed ways. To believe that there's "something more" to this faith journey. Last spring semester, I was a part of a beautiful groups of seekers like me, and we gathered once a week to drink tea and talk about our questions and doubts. If everyone is honest with themselves, they all have doubts and questions. "Without doubt, there is no faith." This year, I hope to continue the legacy of that group, since all of the seniors that led it have graduated- I assume the torch is now passed on to me. I want to keep this group going, to maintain a place where people can freely question and think . . . . .

I am so restless about life. . .

I just stopped by my good friend Katie's house this morning, and we sat down had cereal and tea while she was still in her pj's. But while I was talking to her, she told me that she had just made the decision to drop out of Bethel for a year and do something else. She doesn't know what that "something else" is yet, but she does know that she won't be staying at school this year. I was really happy for her, because she is at least being honest about what she wants. Because if she had chosen to stay at school for a year, she certainly wouldn't have been happy or satisfied. And even though taking a year off isn't necessarily the responsible thing to do, it's where she needs to be.
But now, I'm rather restless while thinking about the future and the riskiness of graduating and trying to find something to do with my life. It's not that I'm scared about what I will do, but yet I am. I don't have any kind of set goals in mind, or exact careers that I'm shooting for, I rather have many vague goals that I hope to accomplish eventually. For example, I know I will go to grad school someday, but when and for what is yet to be determined. I want to learn how to do wilderness camping and climbing, I want to climb a mountain, preferably Kilimanjaro, and I want to write a book, not sure what about yet. I want to run a marathon, hopefully in the next year. I want to learn Latin and Chinese. I want to learn how to play the guitar.
After I graduate, I won't have professors holding me accountable to learning, but yet I know I want to keep learning and reading and discovering new things and new ideas. But will I keep seeking out new opportunities to learn and grow, or will I just become lazy? I was saying to my good friend Emily last night that I am so deathly afraid of settling. By that I mean, settling for less in life, career, future, marriage, learning, in EVERYTHING. But she said to me: "Mel, you won't settle, because you already have decided that you won't." And I won't.
I guess I didn't think the uncertainty of the future would bother me this much, but now when it's looming so close (not that it's bad), it's just so much more real to me now. What am I going to do with my life?
I don't have to have it all figured out right away. . . .

Summer is damn wedding season. . . .

I went to another wedding this weekend. I suppose I shouldn't think I'm burned out on weddings, I only had three to go to this summer, and I ended up missing one of them. (Sorry, Daniel!) And hey, I love weddings. I tried my hardest to catch the bouquet on Friday, but my dear friend Tirzah caught it instead (she was the most deserving bridesmaid anyway). And you gotta love weddings, because the philosophy from Wedding Crashers is somewhat true: everyone has love on their minds, and so they are on the lookout for hooking up at the wedding. I have to admit, I thought the bride's oldest brother was quite attractive, and I couldn't get up the nerve to ask him for his number, even though he IS my age, but he goes to college out in Oregon. I might have to ask Anna (the bride) for his email or something. I am on this random conviction to start getting up the courage to ask guys for their numbers or initiate conversation, because I don't want to waste so much time being passive and waiting for guys to get up the courage. Not that I want to go out and hit on a ton of guys or become an outrageous flirt, but I have been the "friend of guys" for so long, I think I need to start to understand the dating world.

On the drive to the wedding (which was over two hours, lovely), I rode in a car with three dear friends of mine that I lived with this past year, and we were talking about love and dating (of course, what else would girls talk about when they're going to a wedding?); and I always like to pick the brains of my girlfriends about what it means to fall in love, because I have never experienced it. I supppose you could say I am in somewhat of a skeptical phase about love, because I can't bring myself to believe that love is just some big fantasy fairy tale. There's a lot of shit wrapped up in dating relationships and marriage relationships, and I have to be a realist about it right from the get-go. But I don't want to be SO cynical and skeptical about love that I can't even be open to the possibility of it. I don't know what I think about true love, but I do know for sure that the bride and groom on Friday truly love each other. And I also do know that their first year of marriage is going to be HARD and a lot of work on both their parts. Maybe that's the beauty of marriage and love, that for the first time in your life, you are so fully about another person, you begin to realize how selfish you have been. That's the greatest lie, to believe that this life is all about ourselves. But honestly, I can't begin to imagine sharing my whole entire life with another person right now, it would feel like such a loss of freedom. But of course, what an amazing exchange, to have such a deep and intimate friend as a trade for the loss of your freedom.

I can't help but think that marriage is a beautiful and mysterious relationship, but I know that I certainly am not ready for it at all. A few of my good friends from high school are already married, and one even has a baby! That's awesome, the fact that they have that kind of life now. . .but I am far too restless to have committment- I think even a second date would share the crap out of me!

I get so annoyed when people think that they have to rush into being close, especially at a place like Bethel. "Because we're both so spiritual and also seeking God, let's talk all about it and pray together and tell our life stories." Oh please. I think that is SO unhealthy, to share the deepest parts of yourself with someone when you barely know them and don't really even have a history with them. It is so important to know someone in everyday life and experiences before you share your deepest soul with them. Because, if you don't, the only connection you have will be in deep heart things, and there will be nothing substantial to keep the relationship going, and it will eventually die. I have a good guy friend that whenever we get together, we talk quite deeply about life and what's going on, and the thing is, that's how our relationship started, three years ago- by talking about very deep things. We are able to talk about everyday things, but that only goes so far and not much farther. But, we have both learned how to try to understand each other's passions. I try to understand his passions for business and baseball, and he tried to understand my passions for poetry and missions. Even though we're so different, I think we've learned how to balance each other out, especially because we're such opposite people and we are very much about each other in the friendship, not just ourselves. (Even though we admit to having our selfish times, we're not perfect!)

I have another guy friend that I spent a lot of time with this past school year, and I think that was my favorite part about my friendship with him- that we had so many everyday experiences together. Granted, we were involved in many of the same endeavors and activities, but beyond that, we would do random things together, like go out for coffee or tea, or go running when it's cold out, or just call each other and talk about how our day went. We didn't have deep heart to heart talks every time we saw each other, and I was quite relieved by that, because we had a relationship based on everyday living, and the deep stuff would randomly come out over time, but we didn't force it. He would say sometimes: "Mel, what I like about this friendship is that we still don't know everything about each other." And that was so true. We didn't tell our deepest thoughts and fears, but yet I knew that I probably could eventually, because I grew to trust him more than I ever trusted any of those "quick and deep" guy friends that I'd had in the past.

Wow, guy friends are such a tricky thing. I have some truly quality guy friends, and I love just hanging out with the guys (I get weary of how prissy and dramatic girls can be), because I think when I was little, I secretly wanted to be a boy- which shown through in my tomboy demeanor as a kid (which I have since passed on to my baby sister, and she has magnified and improved the Johnson tomboy demeanor- she owns it, and I love it). A dear friend of mine who is also a bonafide tomboy (and still beautiful and genuine), made up this joke that girls like her and I have a disorder called "T.T.S.S": Toxic-Tomboy-Sister-Syndrome. Simply put, she meant that chicks like us are always a sister or buddy to guys, but never really considered "girlfriend material." And we're pretty okay with that. I enjoy having good guy friends, and learning so much from their perspective and thoughts. Sometimes I think guys get me better than girls do. I just dont' care about girly things, even though I can speak "girl language." I won't go into detail about girly language, in case guys ever read this, you might be appalled or slightly confused. But beyond all of this non-girly, tomboy persona, I really am so comfortable with who I am. I don't feel that I need to be more thin, or taller, or prettier; I am bizarrely content with who I am. . . .and for some reason, I feel that it's a rare way of thinking in this culture and time. Girls are supposed to hate their bodies and personalities, and become chameleons as per the vascillating desires of guys. Well, there have been enough times in the past when I "morphed" to catch (or keep) the attention of a guy, and it truly was so shallow and pointless. They didn't like me for me, they only liked who they thought I was, or who I was pretending to be. I don't want to dumb myself down or change my personality so that some guy will date me. I become saddened when girls think that's what they have to do. Sure, I suppose I want to date someday (maybe someday soon), but I am really content with who I am and with where I am in life that I don't want to try extra hard to find my "soulmate," I'd rather just let life happen. And besides, if I get a boyfriend, then I can't flirt with guys in traffic or at weddings anymore. Darn.

And, I have been having thoughts about how to start dating relationships, and I had a strange realization. There are so many things that a person could say in order to initiate a dating relationship or express feelings for another person, but perhaps it all comes down to the element of RISK. All that I could say, if I was honest with someone I had feelings for, would be: "I am scared out of my mind to think of dating, and I know that relationships take work and sacrifice, and above all that, I know that YOU are someone that I am willing to risk taking a chance on. I am going to take the risk of having feelings for you, even though responsibility is screaming within me to 'not open up my heart.' So, here, I'm going to take a chance on you."

Or, I might as well quote one of my favorite movie lines: "I guarantee that there'll be tough times. I guarantee that at one point, one (or both of us) will want to get out. But I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

Those are my random and honest thoughts on romance and love. . . . . .

YoungLife camp again?

The last time that I was a leader at YoungLife camp was in August 2003. I have not been back to Castaway as a leader for two years! I've been there for random retreats and such, but it is quite unexpected that an old leader friend found me at Barnes and Noble yesterday and ask me out of the blue if I would like to be a leader for camp again. It's strange, because camp had been on my mind quite a bit in the last few weeks, and how random and unexpected this new invitation was, I agreed to it.

I have been in somewhat of an agnostic phase this summer, mostly in an effort to go through my own pilgrimage of ferreting out the hypocrisy of the church from the truth of God. I can't say that I've fully arrived (I assume I never will fully arrive at perfect truth), but somehow I still feel strongly that I am supposed to be going to camp this week, for some reason or another. It's bizarrely inexplicable, why I am not running frantically in the other direction from anything remotely Christian-oriented, but perhaps my state of brokenness will be perfect for this week ahead at camp.

I often feel that I am on the precipice of rediscovering the transcendant, deep reality that is the Christian faith, but yet I am frightened by the looming and inevitable hypocrisy of humanity. The beauty of God is still SOMEWHERE in the midst of all the turmoil of life; may I tolerate pure silence long enough to discover it, may I be brave enough to admit my own shortcomings, may I be humble enough to accept truth when it finds me, may I be wise enough to realize that God is not defined by the shallowness of humanity, may I be reflective enough to know my own depths and keep searching into the depths of God. . . . .

Off to camp tomorrow. . . .

And turning 21 tomorrow, hooray!

I still haven't found what I'm looking for. . . .

I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you.
I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her finger tips
It burned like fire
(I was) burning inside her.
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
I believe in the Kingdom Come
Then all the colours will bleed into one
Bleed into one.
But yes, I'm still running.
You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross of my shame
Oh my shame, you know I believe it.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.

~U2

Destroy and Conquer?

I am awash with thoughts about American diplomacy this morning. I've just been reading Japanese accounts of Hiroshima online, and it makes me sick to my stomach, that my own country could do something so horrible, and hope to cover it up as "the only solution to end the 2nd World War." Yes, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. But we had only several thousand people die in that attack, while the death toll in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was hundreds of thousands. Is that something to be proud of? That we annihilated thousands upon thousands of Japanese people, and that this will somehow promote peace? Or, rather, it will promote the furthering of our powerful nation-state in the greater scheme of the world? Pardon my obvious cynicism, but it's no wonder why so many countries hate us and why we are such a target for terrorism. We strut our stuff as this arrogant, consumer-driven, power-hungry nation that uses other countries for our own ends, why wouldn't other countries disdain us so much? I'll stop my cynical ranting now. . . . .

Beyond all of this foreign policy stuff that I've been thinking about (alas, it's effects of reading the online BBC news every morning, it's crazy what unbiased news will do to you- really open up your thinking!), I went for a run this morning, and it made me a bit forlorn with how our formerly quaint farm town is becoming an industrialized suburban city. The fields and creeks (pronounced "crick" for those of you who don't speak Minnesotan) that I used to play in are now taken over by pavement and squared lawns and newly fabricated buildings. The creeks are green, slimy and full of waste and sewage (I used to go wading in it when I was young! It was clean then.). I began to wonder if nature cries when it is being taken over. . . .as if humans are trying to tame it and use it for their own purposes. But in strange ways, it's still possible to see that nature will not be tamed. In the most immaculate, manicured lawns, there are still random weeds- as if to say: "See? You can't tame us! Nature is still wild and unpredictable, no matter how much you try to tame it!" I still feel a bittersweet hope when I see the monarch butterflies flying by and the Canadian geese meandering around the desecrated fields and swampland. I don't see much beauty in man-made, industrial, homogenized housing and building- but if you look hard enough, you can still see the wildness of nature still trying to push through the man-made facade and be seen. That's beautiful.