Where I grew up he was called a trouble-maker. They didn't mean any real harm, it was what their parents had taught them too. Racism was one of those things that I knew society said was wrong, but it made no difference. There it was ok.....
I remember the first time that the light came on for me. I was in my grandparents kitchen watching a DC Talk Behind-the-musicish special on the Insp. network. Racism had long been one of their platforms. I remember when they said, "This is wrong. This is sin". It was one of those times in my life (that would later be repeated) when something outside me struck a resounding chord with something that was already happening IN me. I guess I had known all along, but it was like the Holy Spirit was saying, "SEE! This is what I've been telling you". Now Dr. King is one of my heroes, for a lot of reasons, but partly because he was patient with people like me.

Giggle-box

Generally I don't support the use of profanity...at least not publicly. :) But there is one term that I heard a few years ago (and that us used often by one of my FAVORITE authors- ). It's not that I want to use it.
It's not that I COULD use it if I wanted to because I burst into uncontrollable giggles every time someone says:


Ass-hat.


Hat? Really? How can you be angry when you call someone that? Even as I write I'm trying to work up enough wrath to say "that guy's really an ass-hat". Crap. I just laughed out loud in the coffee shop.

Redeeming the time.

About 18 months ago I wrote the following: 

My loneliness is too much to bear. You didn't owe me anything... but is this how you reward the faithful? By leaving them desolate and uncared for? By making their ministry a mockery and their faithfulness a reason for others to stray? You are not evil. I have always believed this...but are you good? My conscience answers that question for me. So why would you leave me alone for years...for a decade as I watch others go on to live the life that I prayed for. I beg you, God. BE FAITHFUL TO ME! You bottle my tears? You are near to those of a broken heart? You work all things together for our good? How can I believe these things when all I see is abandonment of the faithful.

Yeah. It makes me sad too. I was nearing the point where my faith was not just stretched but at the point of tearing. I wanted so desperately to move on with one of my heart's most guarded and tender desires- to be loved and eventually married.

I think sometimes that God knows the exact point at which we will break and I was nearing mine. Little did I know that right around the corner was:

And that meeting him would redeem every moment of waiting and every question I had about God's love for me and His wisdom in making me wait. 

The Way

So lately my heart has been here. 

It might be because I saw the movie, "The Way" (brilliant by the way) and it might because this is what I'm teaching in my classroom, but lately there has been a significant pull on my heart- both to Spain and to the dream of walking the Camino de Santiago Compostela.

For over 1000 years pilgrims have walked the camino to find themselves, to find God, or just to find some time alone. In a world whirring with overstimulation a few months of quiet nature seem more than appropriate- it seems downright healing.

Here are some other photos to stir your heart. (all courtesy of an old-fashioned google image search)

You'll put a boot where?

This weekend I attended a rodeo- a legitimate boot-wearing, cow riding, oh-my-gosh-that's-a camouflage-stroller rodeo. To say it was an experience in culture is an understatement. Moreover...a 9/11 memorial at a rodeo? It doesn't get more cultural than that.
I have to admit...I sort of expected the intense and emotionally charged memorial.
I also expected the military salute.
I was a little surprised..but not shocked when the rodeo clown openly poked fun at Obama ...
but what shocked me out of my mind was the national anthem.

All of us were standing on our boots (ok..I was wearing cute ballet flats), hands over our hearts, as the last notes sounded like this...

"O're the laaaaaand of the freeeee and the hooome of the braaaaave....We'll put a boot in your ass, it' the American way!"

and the crowd. went. wild.

 In an instant I was jolted from the comfy melody of the national anthem to a crowd of self-proclaimed rednecks whooping as Toby Keith's controversial"Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" blared on the loudspeaker. without single note between the two. Even stranger...I think I was the only one jolted and possibly the only one (minus my friend who was with me) who noticed a contrast between the two songs.

It's official. I may have grown up in this culture, but I am officially.....an outsider.

 In a way it reminded me of Jamaica. Oh no, there wasn't any jerk chicken (or marijuana that I know of), but as I sat there with mouth agape,  people would look me over, stare at me, and try to figure out what an outsider was doing there. I'm not sure what labeled me the outsider (other than my scarf- I couldn't help myself), but they knew....In a weird way, I kind of enjoyed it.

Anyone else ever feel like a foreigner in their own hometown?

I grew up here..

I grew up here- where we draw the state line on the street because it's the only tourist attraction. Where Appalachia meets the dirty south. I grew up where the whole town goes to the Friday night football game, everyone knows someone who still makes moonshine,  and the homecoming queens will have their 3rd baby before their 5 year reunion .  I grew up in the land of Sunday hymns and Saturday night dirt tracks.

And I never planned to leave.

10 year later....
just north of the hip-hop capital of the world.

I have a degree in Spanish and spend most of my day teaching (unbelievably priviliged) high school students the value of  a foreign culture.

I am head-over-heels for a Taiwanese man, totally enchanted by his family, and attempting to learn mandarin.

 ...and I have had the great blessings of hiking the Jamaican jungle with machete wielding tour guides,   falling in love with  a baby honduran monkey, accidentally finding myself in the middle of a Spanish labor rally, and dancing with the rural Scots on New Years Eve.

I am a cultural cocktail
                     a student of every place
                                              and very much still finding my way.