tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91701342670599300652024-03-20T16:40:47.577-07:00myblogsA collection of poems, stories and thoughts. Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.comBlogger262125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-29684342448604820332016-06-09T07:55:00.001-07:002016-06-09T07:59:55.772-07:00It's a team effortIt's pretty phenomenal to be trusted. It's pretty amazing when God's favour is with you. It's amazing how God chooses to show his power through weakness. Maybe I'm not the worst fundraiser in the world, but it is certainly not my strength. Yet God is the one who is sending me. He has been and is moving generous donors to give and partner with me in the work he has given me to do. I'm floored. I'm amazed. If everyone who's promised to give gives what they've promised, that would put me at about 102% right now. I'm still awaiting some of that to come in and show up online, but as far as things are looking right now, I should definitely be able to meet the 70% deadline for June 15th. When that happens, my company will greenlight me to go. Then I'm going! It's... it's incredible.
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I keep looking at this little envelope in front of me filled with evidence that people are standing with me. People are believing for great things to happen, that God will be at work through me and my coworkers to do them. That both excites me <i>and</i> terrifies me. It's one thing to hope and dream for something on your own. But on my own, they would remain only hopes and dreams. Hopes and dreams, remaining so, become false. However, when people join together to affirm the value of a work that needs financial backing (shared by many), it becomes a team effort. The one entrusted with their partnership becomes a steward who carries the responsibility of doing the hands on work to make their collective dreams and hopes reality. Not that it's only my work or that I should do it on my own strength! I can't. But with God as my help, working side-by-side with my coworkers, all things are possible. Can't wait for the adventure ahead! Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-18356493926757513512016-06-07T20:26:00.000-07:002016-06-07T20:35:10.159-07:00Something amazingHey, hey, world!<br />
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Keeping it fresh, keeping it real... <br />
Here comes Steph in her automobile!<br />
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Jk, jk.<br />
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Cool thing. <br />
Yesterday, I met up with two of my friends from high school Dylan and Jill. They're married now and have been for the last four years. Dylan was one of my best friends. We played hacky sack almost everyday with our other friends at lunch. I knew Jill (and Dylan, too) fairly well from going to youth group, snocamps, canoe trips and all those cool things together. We even went to Malawi together with our fellowship nine years ago (not Dylan, though).<br />
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We've all grown up a whole lot. That was probably the sweetest thing about it all. We've all matured a lot, though I think we'd all say we still have a long way to go. It was really amazing. I don't know how to put it. <br />
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They own their own house now. We're getting real jobs. Planning dreams and doing stuff that's on track with the Father's heart and will.
Doing it together. Partners in it all. It was truly so amazing. <br />
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Though the whole time was super informal and more like hanging out than having a meeting, we were getting together to talk about how their fellowship could partner with the work that the Father's leading me to in China. Honestly, it was so encouraging. Our time together was honest. They were real and supportive. I wasn't sure if our getting together would be a formality done because they were on a committee, made awkward because of having known each other a long time ago. But it wasn't like that at all! Shame on me for ever having let that thought cross my mind!<br />
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It's so cool to see how we could pick up our friendship not just where we left off but better than where we left off. Without having been together for several years, our hearts are and have been really moving in the same direction. This is what is to be like-minded, to have kindred souls where it really counts. It simply amazes me. Praise him for the good gifts he gives!
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Peace till next time,
Stephanie :)Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-70141392110494920432016-05-25T19:13:00.001-07:002016-05-25T19:13:26.561-07:00Accelerating the processMy biggest fear, I've discovered this year, is the fear of calling people to ask for support money. Can you believe it? I've nearly been crippled by it. Only now, as the deadline for getting the funds in to go to China approaches, has the sense of urgency been enough to push me to get going really. But I'm glad for it! I fear of calling has been a mix of fear of confidence, fear of being accepted, fear of being rejected. Probably the fear of other things, too, all mixed together! But the urgency has actually pushed to start making calls. And while I still don't feel like it's my greatest strength, I've found that it's not as bad as I imagined.<br />
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I don't like only getting one chance per call to say things in the right way with the right ways. But what I've done when I've forced myself to make calls is that I'll go into the washroom to psyche myself up. I'll set my timer for three minutes to make my physical presence seem bigger. And I'll smile the whole time to make myself feel happy. Today I even made myself laugh during that time. I think doing that boosts my sense of confidence and decreases my nervousness somehow. <br />
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Then, when I'm basically ready, I look at the list of numbers to call and find the nicest person on the list and call them first. Then I choose the next nicest. And after talking to a few nice people, everyone starts to seem a less scary in my mind and if things go well, I won't be afraid to call anyone. Since I know that feeling doesn't last forever, I'll call as many people as I can in one shot. When I feel like I've called a fair amount of people, I call it a night and pat myself on the back. "Good job, Steph!" (I'll think to myself.) "You're amazing! I'm SO proud of you. That was a difficult job and you totally overcame it!" Apparently, I don't get enough praise for doing the right thing. Nobody understands exactly how overwhelmed the idea of calling people makes me feel. So when I do a good job, I just congratulate myself. Yesterday, I even imagined that I would draw myself a pictures filled with hearts, one for every call that was made. I didn't end up doing it but imagined that as a real thing. <br />
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The other thing that I've done the last couple times after calling is to journal about how it went. Journal out in detail what the fear has made me think and feel. How I felt how and sweaty when I was nervous, and had to take off my sweatshirt and even switch into a lighter top. Crazy things like that. I'd also journal out the successes, and the surprises that went well or not so well. Like how an intimidating answering machine message compelled me to leave a message (leave-a-message-or-else kind of feel) when otherwise I would have just hung up. And then the person give me a response when I saw them next, so maybe it was for the better! Or the family that I thought would be too busy to be interested was, in fact, very interest and only asked for my flexibility. Why, of course, I'll be flexible! <br />
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I've journaled yet today, so I'll do that now here. Today I started earlier in the evening and felt more confident from the start than earlier days. However, I still ended up starting at about the same time as yesterday by the time I got started. I did the same washroom exercise of making my physical presence bigger and smiling before starting. I chose to call a family friend as my first call tonight. No answer. I left a message, but it wasn't very well worded at all. I wish I could redo it, really. But that's the benefit of calling someone you've known for your whole life. You can make your mistakes with them and the relationship is so secure, you know they'll still be friends even when you're not perfect. Next, I thought I might call my grandparents (mom's side). I had a nice visit with my grandma. But my granddad wasn't home so that we could set up a time to Skype and talk more. When he got home, shortly after we had hung up, he called back. Saying that they would both like to Skype, as well as support me. By the time we finished talking, it was starting to get a bit late and my mom was asking me to walk the dog with her before the sun went down. So only two calls in (ten less than yesterday), I called it a night. And a successful one even so! <br />
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I may or may not have the chance to call people tomorrow night. I'm hoping I might be able to Skype a friend of mine tomorrow. But if it doesn't work out, then I will be calling people tomorrow, too. I like calling people, actually. But as I wrote in my journal yesterday, I feel like a cat learning to like to bathe. It's a huge learning curve, but I am truly starting to enjoy it more. I makes the process of getting responses from people much quicker than just hoping that people will respond to a letter that's been sent out or a presentation made at a fellowship. All that to say, I'm thankful. I'm thankful for the this whole learning process. It's fun in a messy kind of way. It's kind of amazing because overcoming what's scary is no little thing, but so delightful as it happens. I'm working towards 70% for June 15th. I'm confident the Father will see me through with it. And much more past that, too! To his name be all the praise!Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-52352021065112377622016-05-20T14:56:00.001-07:002016-05-20T19:01:21.040-07:00Nostalgic LongingThe subject of apologetics fascinates me. I like understanding why faith is reasonable immensely.<br />
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Two nights ago I found myself watching a debate between Richard Dawkins and William Lane Craig on YouTube. Debates are usually a waste of time to watch, and I'm not sure this one was any exception. But I did find a rare conversation in the comments section of the video where two people of counter perspectives were engaging in constructive dialogue as to whether Craig's arguments are credible and worthy of acceptance. These two are definitely above my ability to converse. Nevertheless, their dialogue left me with unanswered thoughts and questions and I heartily wrote out the most thoughtful response I could muster late into the night. I didn't know what response I'd get.<br />
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The next morning I saw there was a nice comment from the person who holds the counter view to my own. He essentially said, "I appreciate your response. It's well thought out even though I see some flaws in it. I don't have time to respond now but I'll let the other person respond first."<br />
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I haven't got any further response to it yet–and I may not. That's OK. But the thing was that it was <i>so</i> exciting to see that. It's like having a friend. A friend of a special sort. Where you write our your mind and finds that someone else appreciates and accepts it. Even if it's not a mainstream or popular thought. Apologetics fits that category. There are so many things that interest me that don't seem to interest others. This makes meaningful conversation on those subjects nearly impossible with others nearly impossible, because unless another person is already interested in a given subject, it would require teaching the subject first in order to engage it. So I find it's hard to find friends who engage at a deeper intellectual level, especially when most people my age just want to have a good time.<br />
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It's lonely for me sometimes. I confessed that to a friend of mine a few months ago when we were texting. It saddened her to hear that. I didn't describe as an intellectual loneliness because I hadn't yet identified that that was the issue. When she asked what she could do, at first I had no answer. But knowing that she really wanted to help in some way I kept thinking about her question. A day later I asked if she'd be interested to get together to read. (Which felt like the best idea in the world–true love reads together.) In every good way, however, she is a near opposite to myself. She agreed, of course, to read together. I realized during that visit, though, that it's not something that suits her personality the way it does mine. She's very intelligent. She's also very extraverted. (This one of the things I appreciate most about her because it makes it easy for us to be friends). But that same quality meant that during the time we had to read, (between my parents, my friend and myself), we probably spent more time visiting than reading. I didn't mind much as I was mostly thankful for the simple gift of spending time with her but I certainly was a little intellectually disappointed.<br />
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Anyway... All that to say that I guess everyday relationships don't seem to satisfy the deeper intellectual longings that I have. College was my happy place. I had a ton of friends and lots of classwork and classmates to keep my mind going. It's hard for me now that I've moved on from there.<br />
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Before going to college, I had this blog. This blog got me through high school. Don't know if I've written about this on here before, but it's true. I didn't plan for this blog to be anything important but it was. My friends in high school didn't understand me. My family didn't understand me. (And a lot of people still have trouble.) I turned to this blog as a means of expressing what had no expression otherwise. An outlet to share stories. A place to ask my questions. It was my secret place. And I really kept it secret. I was nervous for anyone even to know about, though I did share it with one older friend.<br />
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Then the unbelievable happened. My anonymous blog that I thought no one would ever read received its first comment. That was from my first online friend Samantha Marie. It delighted me to read her blogs and that she, another Christian girl, just a few years older than myself, was interested to read mine. My favourite part of everyday was logging on to see if she had written something new. Though her I became connected to our other blogging friend, dragonflysoul. She was something like ten years older than me at the time, being twenty-seven then. That seemed like a huge age gap at the time but she was a good friend nonetheless. (Now it won't be long before I'm twenty-seven (in a couple years) and it's hard to believe that so much time has past.)<br />
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Samantha Marie and dragonflysoul were my two best friends in high school. Isn't that amazing?! Two people I had never met–and still haven't–were my best friends in high school hands down. When I went to Washington, DC for Move DC (Kony 2012) I thought I might have had the chance to meet dragonflysoul, because that's where lives (lived?) but it didn't end up working out. I have no idea how Samantha Marie found my blog that first time but I'm so thankful she did. But things petered out more or less by the time I graduated high school. They got busy and life moved on. They might have started new blogs. Who knows!<br />
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I've tried starting a number of blogs since things died down here, but I never keep going with them because I've never been able to gain a sense of online community the way I first did here. I think I've always been longing for that since then. I miss that sense of feeling known on a deeper level. That's what the comment on YouTube yesterday reminded me of. A sense of being recognized. A sense of being understood and valued for the thoughts inside my head. A sense of some importance because someone else values my thoughts. I don't know where to find that anymore. (Tumblr's the one exception to the new blogs I've started, though. It's become the place where I collect my finished poetry.)<br />
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I feel like I'm writing, foolishly hoping, that one day someone will find this blog again and revive the experience that I had back then. I don't expect that to happen. But writing here feels like writing to a friend. Like writing to someone who understands. I won't make any promises about whether I'll keep writing here more again. But after so many repeated years of coming back to this place, I think I can expect that I'll keep returning here. Till next time... here's me, missing my old blog.<br />
<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-44015282076705654322015-05-22T08:25:00.000-07:002015-06-20T21:55:26.382-07:00FYI - Moving to Tumblr<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Blogspot, you've been good to me. But I think it's time to move on. Because that's what everyone else is doing, and you haven't even made an effort to keep up with the times... So sorry.<br />
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Unless I should change my mind, I'm hopping over to the Tumblr. Here's my address: <a href="http://stephaniemichellewright.tumblr.com/">stephaniemichellewright.tumblr.com</a>. Cheers!Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-3897498328082131822015-05-17T20:10:00.002-07:002015-05-17T20:10:56.106-07:00Dream Epiphany 1: HopeMay 17, 2015<br />
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In the last few days, I have been struck by epiphanies as I sleep. I’ll share the first one for this post: Hope creates. Where there is longing, the thing or end desired comes alive so that as one hopes, one creates. That doesn’t necessarily mean that longings immediately (or ever) materialize, but where there is yearning, when hope is strong like rock (as true hope is), a certain reality joins those desires so that something is created in hope.<br />
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Not only that, but hope creates the means to pursue the end; it clarifies the directions needed to take or try to see that the longings do, in time, find their existence. In this case, hope fuels the creation of its ends with the tenacity to see them through.<br />
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Finally, the death of hope most confirms the idea that hope creates. When hope is lost, the heart mourns. Hope takes the whole of one’s being. Hoping is when you’re banking the whole of your life on a veiled answer, waiting for it to arrive finally in your hands. We can hope for trivial things, but I’m thinking here about the things that are much greater. Longing for relations to improve between you and a loved one, persevering to reach graduation day at last, holding out for someone who would make a good spouse, waiting for the Lord’s provision, waiting for acceptance to do a certain kind of work, for certain things to get better in the church, etc. If for any reason, one feels there is no longer reason to hope for the thing desired, real loss ensues. When hope dies, something real inside also shatters. Because the loss is real, the thing hoped for must also be real as well.<br />
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Proverbs 13:12 tells us, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” If you’ve experienced this kind of deferral, then you know that it’s real. But this verse ends with reason to hope. “[A]nd hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” (Romans 5:5). Hope finds its anchor in Jesus, since we know that the character of God’s purpose is unchangeable (Hebrews 6). We have real hope in God. Let it be to the creation and pursuit of desires that are in accord with the purpose of his heart and mind.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-60782734032215503072015-05-12T20:43:00.000-07:002015-05-12T20:43:53.313-07:00The PianistMay 12, 2015<br />
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Dear Friends,</div>
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Hopeful melodies fill my house. This is its design. The pianist plays from above; those of us below receive its gift. How wonderful!</div>
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The playful music fills one’s soul with cheer. The world is all right tonight. Maybe it shouldn’t seem so but in this moment the crashing waves are kept at bay. I have One in whom I can trust. And so I find my lungs expand with breath. Can one complain in such a moment as this? No, no, certainly not.</div>
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Your fingers tell a better story than your lips. Your mind is one of great creativity; I wish I could see inside. I wish I could know your thoughts as you play. Call me up to you. Include me as a stepping note in your song. Let me dance in the life you give. That’s where I want to be.</div>
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Let joy light the fire. Let laughter erupt from the overflow. The rest will be all right.</div>
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My mind on a platter, </div>
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Stephanie</div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-17382015720947862172015-05-12T12:26:00.001-07:002015-05-12T12:26:07.483-07:00Inconvenient<div class="MsoNormal">
May 10, 2015</div>
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My whole world has been changing so much lately. Much more
quickly than I would prefer but still changing at the right and necessary pace
given the circumstances of this transitional period. In the midst of the
changes happening around me, I find that there are also inconveniences. Two in
particular are my mind, though there may be several others. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The first of these is the inconvenience of learning more
about myself. Lately, I have specifically been learning about my need for
intimacy. This need was doubly confirmed, on top of the emotional highs and
lows that I’ve had, when I was reading a chapter from the book Friend Raising.
Apparently, it’s one of the greatest human needs. Mother Teresa is even
reported to have said that loneliness was the greatest human problems. And
she’s seen a lot. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s inconvenient to find that I need people in my life,
especially close personal relations with others, when I find myself in a new
town with no close friends yet. Then, there’s the tension of having to leave
again soon. So whatever people I get to know in the time I have, I know that I
won’t be able to remain in close connection forever, even if I do return with
regularity. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The other inconvenience on my mind is that I’ve decided to
quit drinking coffee, maybe forever. But at least for a month. I only drink it
moderately, usually only a cup or two a day. Still, I’ve found that lately I’ve
used it just to keep me going, and I’ve only felt more drained. It may just be
one factor in a whole host of things that need correction in my life, but it’s
at least one place I can start. So I’ve decided to let myself have a break and
let my body reset itself. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">I think that that decision
will be worthwhile when my body starts to find and create its own natural
energy more freely. Until then, this is an untimely inconvenience, but still
necessary. These two things, learning the need for intimacy by name, and the
work of resetting the body, I find extremely inconvenient at a time when I have
other seemingly more important things to be doing but they’re right. It’s
right, even if the timing’s inconvenient, to get things in order – if such a
thing could ever be possible. And I’m really, really thankful that there’s
grace in all of this. So much grace. I would break to pieces without God’s
gentleness walking with me, but he is </span>good. I’m very thankful, for grace and for the grace of
inconveniences.<!--EndFragment--><br />
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<!--EndFragment-->Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-36647852136802251462015-05-01T08:32:00.001-07:002015-05-01T08:35:04.108-07:00Distress of DiscontentDilemma strikes again. <br />
Posing questions to cyberspace.<br />
Many answers to return.<br />
None breathes life.<br />
They offer no intelligence.<br />
<br />
Do I ask, as though to pray?<br />
This time I will not.<br />
But the God above, instead to seek.<br />
Who will hear my cry?<br />
Who will see the anguish?<br />
<br />
Nothing is right,<br />
I feel inside.<br />
Friends, are you so satisfied?<br />
Discontent encroaches all around. <br />
Who is the one blind to see?<br />
<br />
Is the call not greater than busyness?<br />
Is redemption only individual,<br />
With no further implications?<br />
If we should gather,<br />
What is our purpose?<br />
<br />
If I come to sit, and hear a little,<br />
Then leave alone, the way I came.<br />
Is that all it takes to satisfy?<br />
Do those motions make you smile?<br />
Am I the only one who sees the flaw?<br />
<br />
The flaw I see but solution, not.<br />
I cannot show the rage I feel.<br />
For who would hear a lacking smile?<br />
Does change ever come bottom-up?<br />
Perhaps this is not my place.<br />
<br />
Still, I must survive.<br />
Seeking a heart of warmth.<br />
But until exposed, then addressed,<br />
Should the poison surge abiding? <br />
Send the doctor, please, be quick.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-67095165419475048522015-04-13T12:44:00.000-07:002015-04-13T12:46:26.775-07:00What she hasShe has no legs;
<br />
She won't run.<br />
She has no arms;<br />
She won't fight.<br />
<br />
But-<br />
<br />
She has heart;<br />
So she'll feel.<br />
Eyes<br />
And she'll cry.<br />
Words<br />
So she'll write.
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-21507587618599988712015-03-31T11:39:00.000-07:002015-03-31T11:41:53.565-07:00Nike for CreativityThere seems to be a way in which people get so caught in everything that is immediately in front of them. This is something I’m guilty of, too. but I find that it’s an especially difficult pattern to break when your dependent on others to create that world that surrounds you. I mean specifically the kinds of things that we use to entertain ourselves. Because if we become too reliant on others than we lose the ability to create, examine and interpret the world for ourselves. <br />
<br />
For example, music. Music never satisfies. It fills like a cup that has lost its bottom. It fills, yes, but then it empties. So we become dependent on new sounds, always new sounds to fancy our ears and bring us to new sensations by the combination of new interval patterns. There’s the potential to feel awakened in the moment. Then hit replay. Feel it again. And again. And again. Until it too becomes old. Search for the new. But by search, I mean find a new artist, a new album, a new style, a new beat - that someone else has created. Let someone else do it. <br />
<br />
But. What if the world fell silent? What if we lost all recorded music? What if the only music available to us was the music we could create in the present moment? What melodies would you whistle? Would you create your own? Would you find that music was worth so much to you that you would seek to teach yourself its rules? Go out of your way to find an instrument and excavate its treasures? Or would you move on and forget this gift of music all together? <br />
<br />
My concern is this: We leave creativity (of all sorts) to the professionals. If its quality is not of the highest standard, than it simply cannot be tolerated. So we say we can’t create, and pay others to do it instead. <br />
<br />
My challenge would be, then, in every area, whether it be music, storytelling, poetry, art, making videos, to learn to break from what’s popular and just. cre. ate. It might suck. But then you’ll know it. And maybe you’ll grow. Or maybe you won’t and that’s OK, too. Other people will still create art available to enjoy. But if you don’t try yourself, you’ll never know what you’re capable of. Just do it.<br />
<br />
#nikeforcreativity<br />
#sorryforanytypos<br />
#lunch>proofreadingStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-88715951090542763822015-03-12T13:55:00.001-07:002015-03-14T10:56:02.721-07:00Tick Tock<p>
Tick tock<br>
Another winter’s come and gone<br>
Tick tock<br>
Only days left to go<br>
Tick tock<br>
Lift your eyes up - <br>
Lift your eyes up!<br>
Tick tock<br>
The time is now to trust in God<br>
Tick tock<br>
Your weak hands can be made strong<br>
Tick tock<br>
For forgiveness is already yours<br>
Wait for the good name of the Lord
</p>
<p>
Written by Stephanie Sophia<br>
March 12, 2015
</p>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-85987001646057488112015-02-16T12:32:00.000-08:002015-02-16T14:43:55.276-08:00Three CoupletsThree couplets I wrote today (February 16, 2015):<br />
<br />
One:<br />
<br />
In solving a riddle, this you may find:<br />
How to be still, should you be so inclined. <br />
<br />
Two:<br />
<br />
A pictured beauty forever unknown.<br />
For out of the window, I shall not be thrown.<br />
<br />
Three:<br />
<br />
Your word given as a sure token, yes. <br />
But I could not foresee the brokenness. <br />
<br />
<br />
Edit:<br />
<br />
Here's two more. The last one's dedicated to my quadmates, though I haven't had the chance to use it yet:<br />
<br />
I am at home with four people today.<br />
I counted myself as the fourth, OK?<br />
<br />
Will one or both of you go for a walk?<br />
I promise this time there won't be a fox.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Stephanie SophiaStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-69788049814686580692015-02-09T18:15:00.004-08:002015-02-09T20:53:44.055-08:00I am the Sea // Un Jeu du PatienceI write to keep a distance,<br />
If I write in poetry.<br />
But I recognize that I am <br />
the only one with my exact story, <br />
with my exact struggles, <br />
with my exact eyes. <br />
It may be the only one <br />
I know enough to write. <br />
So rather than taking my pen to escape, <br />
I think I’ll use it to paint.<br />
<br />
According to some physical law, <br />
the more space, the less time;<br />
the more time, the less space;<br />
and time is relative. <br />
I am relatively content that <br />
My time in this space<br />
Comes to its close. <br />
<br />
People have been my puzzle; <br />
Myself a piece and a puzzle within - <br />
I prefer the French term: <i>Casse-tête</i>.<br />
But unlike a hobby, <br />
I can’t break for a week, <br />
or even a day.<br />
The best I can do is just get by myself. <br />
<br />
I tell myself I will be content. <br />
“I commit myself to contentment.”<br />
But it’s a most difficult commitment,<br />
When my cortisol rises.<br />
“I will not run;<br />
I will not rage.”<br />
Still - <br />
still,<br />
still,<br />
still...<br />
It gets restless in here. <br />
<br />
What do you expect of me?<br />
I would hope for you to find refreshment here, <br />
Rather than a murky March mess. <br />
<br />
Oh, what do you see in me?<br />
Am I a prism?<br />
Or a plain glass pane?<br />
I hope you see me - <br />
<br />
But if you don’t, I will show you. <br />
A dance between guilt and gospel, <br />
A dance between together and solitude, <br />
Between today and tomorrow, <br />
Between fullness and brokenness, <br />
Between discontent and self-control, <br />
Between song and quiet, <br />
Between together and near insanity. <br />
Between you and me - <br />
<br />
I love you. <br />
And I hope you can accept that I am the sea. <br />
For you are my peace. <br />
<br />
<br />
Written by Stephanie Sophia<br />
February 9, 2015Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-21144598727273414402015-01-25T11:47:00.001-08:002015-01-25T11:50:26.284-08:00Reflections on Mission BlueHow many cans of tuna do they have to sell?<br />
How many fish do they have to catch?<br />
Does the ocean die we eat - <br />
And will we bear the consequences?<br />
<br />
Just take a look, now. Take a look, now.<br />
<br />
Do the ethics get swept over<br />
In the frenzy of our busy lives?<br />
These fish cost less than a dollar, <br />
And yet they come from Thailand.<br />
<br />
How do we do it? How do we do it?<br />
<br />
Will we steward what we’ve been given?<br />
The earth is a gift given of the Lord,<br />
The ocean also is ours to guard.<br />
Will we treasure the beauty of it all?<br />
<br />
Will we do it? Will we do it?<br />
<br />
Written by Stephanie Sophia<br />
January 25, 2015Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-10682091188717705752015-01-16T21:07:00.000-08:002015-01-16T21:08:04.568-08:00Blue Canopy - January 16, 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNShCrDnTzLSIKD4hBa9VU72S1I6JxuX-a-b5a9obTdANZa1rdU-uFX-K_wOY3w8ujvTdm6k5twu64xLq7JACuOPc8XNjuTXeCyCg-JhAYPapUZItzueRLD3ykEOiEMLlTHdzu0_AjSNdJ/s1600/photo(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNShCrDnTzLSIKD4hBa9VU72S1I6JxuX-a-b5a9obTdANZa1rdU-uFX-K_wOY3w8ujvTdm6k5twu64xLq7JACuOPc8XNjuTXeCyCg-JhAYPapUZItzueRLD3ykEOiEMLlTHdzu0_AjSNdJ/s1600/photo(1).JPG" height="640" width="132" /></a></div>
I am afraid. <br />
I am afraid of graduating.<br />
I am afraid to leave Caronport; I am afraid to leave Moose Jaw. <br />
I am afraid to be close with others. <br />
I am afraid to move to a place and join a team that’s not transient. <br />
I am afraid of commitment. <br />
I am afraid of being known. <br />
I want to be known. <br />
I am afraid of not being known. <br />
I am afraid to love Nancy. <br />
I am afraid to say good-bye.<br />
What am I so afraid of?<br />
I am afraid to be vulnerable.<br />
Why am I afraid to let my guard down?<br />
Why do I need to be so busy?<br />
Why do I feel that every hour needs to be filled with something deep and uber meaningful?<br />
Why can’t I be satisfied?<br />
Am I afraid to be bored?<br />
I would like to be bored. I would like to bored and do nothing. <br />
I would like to have someone to be bored and do nothing with. <br />
I don’t want to discuss philosophy, the Bible, or theology. <br />
I just want to rest. <br />
I don’t want the pressure of having to be good. <br />
I don’t want the pressure of having to be smart. <br />
I don’t want the pressure of having to feel like I have it all together, everything figured out. <br />
I do feel like a lot of things are really lining up, though. <br />
And while I don’t see that changing any time soon, if everyone can look at me and think that I have it all together - not that I do, but sometimes I feel like I might even be able to convince myself - even if the whole world sees me one way, I hope that I can have a friend that I can be bored with. <br />
And in that moment of being bored, I want to let the guards down. <br />
My guards. Not anybody else’s. My guards.<br />
I want to know that it’s OK to be a mess, <br />
by having someone else affirm it for me. <br />
I want to be with someone with whom I can be and just be.<br />
I guess that’s it. <br />
I guess that’s the kind of friend I hope for in Nancy. <br />
I don’t think that’s fair to either of us. <br />
I don’t want to care to impress anyone any more. <br />
I just don’t know how to change that. Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-58472719813839444442014-10-25T14:58:00.001-07:002014-10-25T15:03:44.802-07:00Gospel in 200 WordsThe gospel is the good news of Jesus Christ. The gospel means that there is absolutely nothing I can do to earn my place with God, which... could be bad news, except that God didn’t want to be apart. So Jesus left heaven, was born a baby, lived a perfect life for his Dad, then died on the cross, and took my place. <br />
<br />
But get this, Jesus didn’t stay dead! He died, was buried, laid in a tomb for three days, then came back to life by the power of God’s Spirit, and was seen alive by lots of people. Then, promising to come back, he went home to his Dad. Jesus’ Dad is happy with him because Jesus obeyed him perfectly. <br />
<br />
Because he took my place, I get to take his place. God is happy with me, too! It’s not because of anything that I’ve done - Jesus did it all! I just have to accept what he did.<br />
<br />
Now I’ve died with Jesus and I live with him. I’m a new creature altogether, free to live a life that makes God happy like Jesus. It is so good; this new life never stops being brand new! Thanks you, Jesus!Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-54625515346571293412014-10-23T16:32:00.002-07:002014-10-23T16:32:54.357-07:00Redemption Story - Day 7Here is a redemption story. God saves people by the preaching and sharing of the gospel. He saves people by having his people tell stories to other people about how good and awesome he is. I’m one of them. God saved me because a woman at camp, back in 1999, shared how God first saved her at camp when she was a kid. Through her story, I was able to get it, that God wasn’t just for my parents, that it’s more than just something to do on Sundays. God was choosing me, so I chose him, too. <br /><br />When God saves someone, he brings them into his family. It’s adoption! It means life to the dead. Belonging to those who would have no one. Love and acceptance to the unlovable and otherwise rejected. <br /><br />God is my family. The Church is my family. Jesus is my big brother who loved my Dad so much that he said ‘Yes’ when Dad asked him to die for me, for all of us. The good news is that he’s not dead anymore. He’s alive! I can’t wait to see him. He is my hope for life. He’s my everything. He is worth my everything!Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-91010199920480167052014-10-22T22:43:00.001-07:002014-10-22T22:44:33.313-07:00Redemption Story - Day 6Here is a redemption story. I was bought by God and I belong to him.<br />
<br />
Little
story to tell you about a picture that was drawn today. A Chinese man
with a curly mustache sat cross-legged underneath his booth with the
Chinese characters hanging above his head that read: Xiao Xin Wang Huo,
which means “Watch out, fire king!”<br />
<br />
He also had a cart that sat
not too far off. That was his business when he wasn’t juggling balls of
fire. And a little dog sat beside that cart of his. That dog was his
only family and his name was Qing.<br />
<br />
He was a very good juggler but
could never attract much of a crowd because he was a rather poor man.
This man, however, was never downcast. He had a good sense of humour and
always knew how to laugh about the little things. He’s the kind of guy
who might be my friend if I knew him.<br />
<br />
Hope found a home in this
man’s bosom. Joy rooted deep within him. Roses of peace grew up and out
from within him so that wherever he went he had a garden to share. He
made his friends smile.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-71603026238564788352014-10-21T19:08:00.001-07:002014-10-21T19:08:06.518-07:00Redemption Story - Day 5This is a redemption story. This is a redemption story. This is a redemption story. God will save me! I am his. I am his child.<br /><br />Who knew that juggling was a cardio exercise? I didn’t until just now. That’s just another thing that I am doing - taking up a new party trick that probably won’t serve me too well in the long run. But that’s OK because I got my cardio in. <br /><br />This morning was exciting. I got to meet with God. I live in a very small town that has this big sports field that no one uses in the mornings. So I went there to meet God. Read the Word because that’s the primary way he speaks to me. He worth listening to, really. Got to confess some stuff to him, too, which was really freeing. He’s very forgiving. <br /><br />Met a couple ladies who are servants of God out and about in the world. Asked them about their experiences in prayer. Big idea: Take small steps to move ordinary prayer to extraordinary. Next step: invite my quaddies to make prayer and Scripture reading a bigger part of what it means for us to live together. It’s important. Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-20861016320067419742014-10-20T21:44:00.001-07:002014-10-20T21:44:17.832-07:00Redemption Story - Day 4Here is a story of redemption. I am saved by God. I am a child of God.<br />
<br />
After
upgrading to Yosemite, I decided I wanted to change a couple desktop
images. I found a nice one in the plant folder called ‘Summer Leaves’ of
nice green maple leaves. Left it up for a few days but something really
bothered me about it - the leaves were green. As a Canadian I felt they
should be red. So I just finished editing it now so that they are
indeed red. Looks nice, really nice. I like being Canadian.<br />
<br />
...But apparently that’s all I have to say on that point.<br />
<br />
If
I were to tell you that I don’t know what exactly I’m doing, I would be
lying. I am using my fingers to type you a story, a story about love,
that I know so little about. Love great mysteries of mysteries. To be
known and to know fully. Love. Love of Christ to his Bride the Church.
Hmm. Self-giving love. Marriage. Man and woman together. What on earth!
Beautiful! Something really holy and majestic. Not something to be
understood systematically but by faith. That explains others things,
too, I guess. Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-26772445752788744162014-10-19T07:25:00.001-07:002014-10-19T07:25:26.458-07:00Redemption Story - Day 3Here’s a story of redemption. God keeps saving me. I am a child of
God. I long to live a cruciform life like Jesus. Today I’m asking the
Father what it looks like to lay down my life for my quaddies, without
doing it to get loved back.<br />
<br />
Today is the Lord’s day (Sunday). I
get to go to church. I skimmed an interesting article yesterday about
how we might not be preparing enough to go to church, and how that might
be the reason why we don’t get as much as we want out of church. The
writer suggested pouring over our Sunday mornings in prayer the night
before to ask for God to move among us. He listed some suggestions but
here are some of my own that come to mind:<br />
<br />
- Pray for God to convict us of sin that we would repent and turn away from it.<br />- Pray for the pastors, that they would teach us rightly from the Word of God.<br />- Pray for God to save people through the preaching.<br />
<br />
We
have real hope because Jesus actually died for us. He actually came
back to life. He actually gives us power to believe and obey. Amen.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-56565224628114108322014-10-18T14:06:00.000-07:002014-10-18T14:06:24.059-07:00Redemption Story - Day 2Here’s a redemption story. God saves me. I am a child of God. I get to be defined by who God says I am rather than what I say about myself. That means that I need to listen to his voice; train my ear to hear it, eh? <br /><br />I’m taking a course right now called Marriage, Singleness and Sexuality and learning lots. Theologians like Augustine place quite high prominence on the calling of Consecrated Virginity, which goes very largely unaddressed in Evangelical circles. <br /><br />Conversely, others such as Pope John Paul II and Paul Evdokimov really draw out the beauty of the unity of masculinity and femininity as mutual gifts to one another, which in many ways reflects God’s divine character. What stands out in the course of these things is that there is deep mystery in human sexuality down both avenues, which reveal our need to thank God and seek him. <br /><br />As a single woman looking forward in life, I find it interesting that, where most of the world around me pushes toward relationships, marriage and children, for the first time in forever there seems to be real choice between the two. Which shall I choose? I’ll wait and see. Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-44857946591880969122014-10-17T22:55:00.001-07:002014-10-17T22:55:02.366-07:00Redemption Story<div class="body">
Here’s a story of redemption. God saved me. I am a child of God. I am
not the craziness I feel inside, though it is there and often remains a
long time, especially when I am alone. I talk to myself, a lot. And
much more, but I won’t go into to details, because I expect that someone
will read these and would at least like to safeguard my sanity,
whatever remains of it, for some time yet. But in an attempt to combat
my lunacity I would like to endeavour to write a little everyday, for at
least one week. Two hundred words a day. Exactly.<br />
<br />
At this exact moment the two most important people in my life are
Tara Knox and Nancy Pike, because geographically they are the closest to
me as my next door neighbours and friends. Puzzles they are; puzzles
they are. I really admire Nancy. And I really like making Tara laugh.
But here’s an interesting thought: leadership. If Nancy’s in charge, ...
how can I tell her that all I really want is a hug? If Nancy and Tara
are best friends, how do I fit into the mix? More next time - have a
goodnight!<br />
</div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170134267059930065.post-66180861764272568542014-10-17T16:38:00.000-07:002014-10-17T16:51:45.619-07:00First Impression of Two Friends, a poemTara is funny.<br />
Who is Nancy?Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10214371661961664461noreply@blogger.com0