Eat Music Notes For Breakfast and You'll Look Slimmer

I've realized that what I wanted, is not, what I wanted....

In early February I signed up for this computer program that would allow me access to unlimited music from tons of different genres for one flat price on a monthly basis. I thought it was such a great investment; so much music for one monthly price. How could I say no?! I have a huge passion for music. I should take advantage of having the world of song at my fingertips. (Yes, I am a sucker for those quirky little deals). Today, being the first of the month and the day the automatic credit card payment was to go though to the music company, I received an email saying my account has been renewed.  I realized something. I have spent enough money on music to buy a good amount of groceries. My priorities are a little off. Music is definitely my life's rhythm, but there are times when one has to ask themselves, "what's really important at this point?" And act on it. So I'm cancelling by subscription to this library of music. 

The reason for this blog entry isn't to tell the world about how I regret using my grocery money on music. There's something a little deeper. I'm talking about misplaced priorities. I made a swift decision that should be reconsidered. A lot of times we think that something is what we want only to find out that it really wasn't what we wanted for ourselves. It could be that unlimited music library that takes away from your food budget, or that chocolate cake after you've already ate an entire meal, or that person you know isn't the one God has for you but you go for it anyway, or that friend you associate yourself with who isn't the best influence, or allowing yourself to get into a conversation that isn't really appropriate. It's easy to loose sight of priorities. Thankfully there are things such as "unsubscribe" buttons that give us the chance to redeem ourselves. 

Hello Life, You Seem A Little Difficult

A picture I took while walking and thinking.

I've had a monstrous amount of things on my mind lately:

money, college, job, work, skills, school, grades, moving, car insurance, friends......
decisions, morals, values, drinking, smoking, art, voting.....
being an adult, driving, car, tuition, application, relationships, love, independence, boys, plans.....
God, destiny, callings, praying, volunteering, missions, laundry, responsibilities, style, modesty, standards....
fun, entertainment, Facebook, social life, church, and eating.....

Dealing with the combination of all these thoughts has become overwhelming at times (This is why I haven't blogged in a while). Sometimes I am so concerned about everything I start to tear up. I want to have control of everything; yet, at the same time, I don't want to have the responsibility of controlling anything. (These are truly the times I should reach for God.)

I see teens my age goofing off when it comes to school, watching television for hours at a time without a care in the world and doing whatever, whenever; carefree.  I should be proud to say I have a better perspective; a deeper revelation about life, but, in all honestly, I just feel old. There are days I feel OLD. When did all these concerns creep up on me?! Man, they are sneaky. And frustrating. And...(Let's give it to God).

My dad calls it "being mature".

Yet, when you see a group of kids sitting on the side of the road while you're on your way home from a night's work you don't really say, "Hm, they are just immature young people who haven't gotten a grip on responsibility yet." You think, "I must be getting older." proceeded by a bummed look on your face.

BUT, the concerns, struggles and all those things that have me feeling old now, will make me wiser! So for now, I need to keep saying, "Hello Life, you look difficult, but you will also make me wise."

Dying People Pink and Green

I finally have an answer to my question; "So what do we do?" that I had posed in my entry Outfits, Eggs, and Expectations. Well, I know the answer to the one sub-question regarding changing the egg (my extended metaphor for - taking someone and trying to change them)....

When you dye an egg pink for example can you then dye it green? Ok, yes, you can definitely dunk the same egg in a bowl of green dye, but the egg won't be JUST green. There will still be hints of pink and the green shade on the egg won't be the same as the pretty green that it was supposed to be.

If you find someone who is one way do you really think you can change them?
They most likely WILL change, but their motive for changing will not be to self improve. You will become their motive; their reason to change, not God, not "to become a better person". Why is that so bad? Well, the result would be an individual fashioned to your liking; someone who can only identify themselves with you (a multicolored egg, a mesh of you and them). God is the one they should be identifying with! He's the maker, transformer, creator. It's His job. We aren't supposed to change people. We are supposed to point to the one who can. Only He can take that egg, make it white and recolor it.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:The old has gone, the new is here!" 2 Corinthians 5:7

Trying to change the egg isn't an option.

Tattoo "Secure" On Me

It's so easy to determine when someone has self esteem issues. There's a pattern of behavior followed in order to make up for that feeling of insecurity. I've noticed that it's hard to detect a lack of self esteem in one's self. The other night I was TV surfing and stopped at this program. I watched as a starving female artist, with red hair and thick black rimmed glasses, sat in front of a desk was a tattooed, bald head muscular guy ("King of Art?"). He was talking about how he sees great potential in her work. And how she should pursue this one specific style of art. She started to cry and weep. She couldn't believe that she had his "blessing" to continue in her artistry. I watched this and thought, "Wow, she struggles with low self esteem..."

I quickly, in that moment, examined myself. I pin pointed a time, not too long ago, when I did something very similar; allowing the words of someone else determine how confident I felt. Out loud I said, "I just had a revelation." I can't base whether or not I'm satisfied with myself by waiting for someone to come along and compliment or approve of me. I need to be secure in myself by myself. 

Thank you Starving Redheaded Artist for helping me realize (give yourself more credit!). 

Running Up Escalators

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Matthew 6:34

When I was younger I remember running up the escalators at the JCPenny store and trying to reach the top before anyone else. Of course, I'd always win because no normal person would dart up a stairwell that automatically ascends to the higher level (except the very hyper Ceci). There I'd stand panting for breath with my hair displaced as a result of my sudden sprint with eyes wide (sweet victory). As the shopping trip carried on and everyone enjoyed themselves, I would be the first to get tired... my energies were prematurely exerted at the entrance. I'd turn cranky and ask myself why I felt like I had HAD to run up the metal moving stairs. Silly girl.

I've noticed this pattern in my life- trying too hard too early. I sometimes wear myself out when I should be relaxing; hassle over a situation when it really isn't something to stress over, or jump into meaningful relationship before its God's time. In the beginning the sense  of control, independent and responsibility seem to be there, but before long, I feel the way I'd feel at the end of a shopping trip. Tired and regretful. Honestly, I enjoy being first (in life, love, success and all things "grown-up") but I'm learning now that it's better to take a normal pace (let Life be an escalator) so that I'll still have it together at the end. 

Even Jesus Had Those Few

(Written December 2011, that was left in "draft" form)

^" All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts. " (Acts 2:44-47)

 I was talking to a friend missionary the other day. She’s been on the mission field for over 22 years specifically in Haiti. We were attending Christmas dinner with a group of other missionaries. We relayed how when you’re a missionary you are the one that they turn to when they need support. Your shoulder is the one on which they cry. It’s your words they look to for guidance. You become a model and example of strength and firm faith. So what do we do when we need to cry or find direction or vent? She said this;

“You get together with those who do the same thing you do and fellowship.”

Even Jesus had that special group that he kept close. His disciples. There were there when he experienced anger or anxiety. They were his support. The same concept is applied when you’re a missionary. No matter how hard you work to increase the kingdom. You still need the aid of another. Always. 

As the subject of our conversation changed I found her simple answer to ring true. There’s something about being able to freely converse with someone who has experienced the same thing you are in the middle of…and not feel like you’re damaging the “role-model” image you are expected to have. 

Thank you Beth!

"Show Your Heart"

In Haiti, whenever there was a communication problem or a misunderstanding between two of the children I would tell them this:

"You see that person? That person, there, can't see what's in your heart."

And they'd look at me with a blank look on their face. Like the awesome mediator that I am, I'd continue.

"YOU need to take out your heart and shove it in their face! Show them how you feel. Because this problem is because you guys aren't looking at hearts." 

Eyes would begin to roll.  And arms would cross.

I guess heart show-and-tell isn't the most exciting thing????

"Show your heart." I'd repeat, again and again. 

Slowly one would open up with the concerns from their young little heart. Before long tears would fall and hugs were exchanged. It's beautiful to see a mutual understanding of a situation!

When blogging, because its virtually impossible for me to explain everything, I sometimes feel like I can't blog certain stories, ideas or revelations because there is so much room for misunderstanding.

For example, I can say, "I love chicken!" and some will respond, "Wow, me too!", others will look at it and think, "So she doesn't like beef?!" or "Why do we need to know that?!".


I find myself sitting at my laptop looking at written posts that I have decided to keep in "draft" form. Yet, my heart is to share everything, so that someone, out there, can relate or grow or learn or disagree or add. So here I am, showing my heart about showing my heart. So that, one day, I can post all those drafts without worrying about being misunderstood.

Am I a Fungi?

This morning, when I was taking a walk I saw mushrooms growing out of a tree. I looked at them and tried to think of a deep, profound metaphor for the fungi-growing-out-of-the-foot-of-the-tree image before me. Nothing came up.

So that was this morning....

The entire day passed by. Then....

BANG! It hit me.

Am I a mushroom? Or am I a tree? 

Am I a fungi stuck on someone else preventing them from being all they can be; taking the life that they should have, keeping them from growing the way they were meant? Or am I a beautiful piece of greenery striving on it's own to be strong and to eventually provide fruit?

Frozen Fingers Make Good Writers

What's cold, smiles and fills out a ton of applications?

A young "ex-pat" who has recently re-entered her country and is looking for a job.

She learned a few lessons today:

One of the applications filled today.

- It's the year 2012 and 89% of all applications should be done online. (I found this out after walking 25 minutes, in the cold, to the shopping center at which I was planning on applying, at least I got in some exercise). 


- I need to be over 18 to work at a warehouse. (I guess putting teens and saws in the same building is dangerous??) 


- After just one day of job hunting. I found some promising places. (Thus, I'm not understanding the whole "I can't get a job" thing that I've heard some say.) 

It's a matter of determination and self motivation. I'm not an expert in job hunting or anything, but it's easy to find an excuse for something that just takes some effort to get done. If you go our there, in the ice, with a grin on your face and fill out some papers you may end up with some money in your pocket later on.

My Toilet Paper is a Blanket

After dismounting the plane from Port-au-Prince, Haiti to Newark, New Jersey:

I’m standing in line to go to the immigration desk I see a lady directing people to their corresponding line.  My first thought: “She looks like a clown”, with her heavy eye makeup and 5-tones-too-dark lipstick. As I looked at her I saw that she had both fake eyelashes and fake hair. This is America? No. America can’t be summed up in one artificial woman.

Fast forward a few more hours. I’m sitting at the toilet. My arm reaches for the toilet paper; I grab a hold of it, “Gosh! I’m about to wipe with a blanket!” The toilet paper was so thick, full and plush I didn’t know what to do. I rerolled it and ripped off two dainty squares, one. by. one.  

Looks like I’ve come to a land where we have more than enough…and maybe, sometimes, too much; too much makeup, too much synthetic stuff and even too much toilet paper. 

Outfits, Eggs and Expectations

I've chosen my outfit for tomorrow's voyage back to the freezing state of Pennsylvania. A tank top, one t-shirt, one heavy shirt, one pullover hoody and one zipper down sweater. Yes, I passionately dislike the cold. In fact, not many people like the cold. Another thing people don't enjoy is lowering their standards and changing their expectations.

Whooooa! I know I caught you off guard with that one. Let me back up a little.


Along with thinking about what to cloth myself with, today, I also thought about relationships and what we, as people, expect out of them.

Gosh, okay maybe you still don't see the connection. My deepest apologies for the inevitable confusion.

Really, from the start we have this idea, this image in our head about what we want, need, and desire in someone else. And then, we do this freakish "egg-hunt" for someone to be ALL that. Then there are times when we find an "egg" (even if we're not looking) and they meet almost all the criteria but are shy a few for the major, ermmmm, elements. So what do we do? Toss the egg? Keep it and change it? Find another one? Sadly, all I did was think today, not find answers.


I do know that tomorrow I will experience coldness against my cheeks and therefore I'm preparing for it with many layer of clothing.

He Just Can't Say It...

Today was spent finishing up some things; getting things packed (and not taking them back out of the bag because it needs to be used for another few days). I mean zipping-up-the-bag kind of packing, inventory of supplies for after we leave and making sure everyone is prepared for our departure.

Finishing.

On an unrelated, yet related note, there is a word that Leonard (4) has never been able to utter in his own native tongue. We have tried on multiple occasions to have him say it but to no avail. He persistently can’t say the word “fini”. Instead he says, “finish” - its English translation. The Haitian born, Creole speakin’ little boy can’t say “fini”.

For example he'd say:

“Nou finish manje” (We’re done eating)

Or

“Film la finish” (The movie is over)

The dominant language spoken here is Creole, not English, yet he still manages to say, “finish”.  It’s a curious situation.  It’s something about Leonard that’s special that we’ll miss as we finish our job at this orphanage. 

Something New That Should Never Get Old

My time in Haiti is coming to an end (once again). This time it's "good bye" for awhile. Way back in 2010, before I had my own blog, I guest posted on John and Perla's blog. I shared about the change I was experiencing. Here is an encore post of that same entry called "A New Perspective". Enjoy!

Yesterday was my second Friday here in Mariani, Haiti. As the sun was starting to go down, I sat on the balcony gazing out at the entire orphanage. My legs were crossed as they swung from the balcony seat. Looking far out I could see the dark blue ocean; a little closer I saw a field. Looking right down was the church where people had gathered for prayer. I could hear them singing over my playing ipod. The group stopped singing and someone began to speak. At this point a song called, "We Will Trust You" was beginning to play on the mp3. It starts out:

"How precious is your heart, oh God

Righteous and true

Gaze on me with infinite tenderness

I surrender to you

Master of wind and raging tide..."

I suddenly was taken by the trust that the people of Haiti have for God; their complete surrender to Him. As the song played and the prayers of the people in the church escaped into my ears, I began to pray.

Just two weeks ago I was worried about whether or not I would have enough hair product to last me the trip. The night before I left I was torn by the fact that, due to a lack of room in my luggage, I wouldn't be able to bring a sentimental pair of shoes. Now looking back, the word that comes to mind is, "pointless." It's not so much that I appreciate all the things I've been blessed to have, but rather, "What is the use?"

I urge you to seek a new perspective. Being thankful for what you have is great and good, but how big is your trust in God? 

Can you sing to Him when you have nothing? 

Have you truly surrendered it all to Him? 

Become raw before God and find the priceless value of Him.

The Fear of God

Sprayed -(Part 2 of The Missionary and The Cricket)

"Tom The Cricket" under the table!

The pattern proceeded for three more nights.

"Chirp"

The cricket who was silent by day and noisy by night managed to travel from under the kitchen sink to under a small table still in the kitchen. The missionary, every morning, would search and scout for the small creature, but to no avail did they find it. The missionary concluded that it was only at night that the cricket can be caught, trapped, and disposed of. So on the fourth night:

"Chirp"

The missionary, like they had done once before, tiptoed down the stairs to enter the kitchen, turned on the light.

"Chirp"

They grabbed a hold of the walking insects bug killer spray (that had been positioned on the table earlier that day). 

Aimed. 

Sprayed.

"Tom the Cricket" (photo was taken right before he was sprayed)

....

The victory came quick and silence quicker. The remainder of the night was one of peace and tranquility; one that allowed the missionary to lay and ponder there in her bed.

Thus concludes the story of the missionary and the cricket.

The Missionary and The Cricket

Once upon a time there was a cricket. He lived under a sink in the kitchen of the house of a missionary. During the day he would hide and cower behind many objects that had accumulated underneath the counter and in the cabinet. There he would stay in complete silence all day. At night, he'd sing and chirp and brush his small legs together like a violin and play, play and PLAY. The missionary, after a long day of serving would lay their head on a pillow. Instead of relaying in their heads the wonderful things that had been completed or planning for the next day, they would try and figure out a way to silence the little cricket. 

"Chirp, Chirp, Chirp..."

pic from ehow.com

Every night this would happen. Until one night the missionary decided that it was time for the cricket to end its noise. 

"Chirp." 

The missionary descended down the stairs using soft, soundless footsteps. It was dark, so they turned on the kitchen light.

"Chirp"

"Chirp" 

The missionary looked in the direction of the sink. There he was; a little black cricket the size of a dime. The missionary stood motionless by the light switch, then turned their body to a cabinet. They gently opened the pantry door and took out a plastic cup; a device to capture the singing machine. 

"Chirp"

The missionary turned to face the cricket. 

.....

It had disappeared. Disappointed and slightly frustrated the missionary switched off the kitchen light walked back up the stairs, curled up in their bed and vowed to someday silence the cricket.    

(Stay tuned for part 2 of this epic nonfiction story.)

Clueless

When I first came to the land of "unlimited impossibilities" (I'm quoting John Mchoul- a 25 year missionary in Haiti) I was clueless.

Thinking back to the weeks before making the move that forever changed my life, I remember thinking:

"I'm going to be living in a hut, with mud walls and killing my own chickens for dinner. I will dress in a skirt and an overly modest shirt (like, I got this blouse from my Gram) on a daily basis."

So. very. clueless...

Then, I arrived in Haiti and found that walls are made of cement and roofs of mortar. Dead, cut up chickens can be bought at a local market. My dark blue skinny jeans can still be something I slip on. I was truly relieved (especially about the chickens).

As the months passed by I found out more:

When they tell you 5 P.M. they mean 6:30. P.M. It's called "island time". And you must adapt, there is no other option.

Currency goes as follows: 5 gourdes to a Haitian dollar. So that 500 bill in your hand is only 100 dollars. This is something that takes months to fully comprehend.

The electricity is never consistent. Not much else to say about that besides "Bonjou Mr.Generator and Madame Inverter!"

As the months grew to be many there was still more to be clued in on:

The language- one word can mean five different things. The word for "scared" is the same word for "peace". So figure.

Your facial expressions can literally redefine a simple statement.

This is Haiti and everything is done differently here. Never impose your own ideas and thoughts on a native. Respect them and how they operate. 

I am now on my 15th month of missions and there are still things I am clueless about. Like, why they tell me to wear shoes if my stomach is acting up...but I wouldn't trade the journey to discovering it all for anything!

This Was Church

Taken by Tara & Troy Livesay

I spent Thanksgiving, this year, with over 70 missionaries from all over the world who have come for some reason or another to serve the country of Haiti. Some are dedicated to helping the hurting women of Haiti. Others are teachers who came to educate and facilitate the children of Haiti. Some came to living with the orphans and establish housing for them. As I ate my turkey feast I shared a conversation with a pair of "missionaries". We laughed, joked and stuffed our faces. As I looked around the room I saw a flood of content faces illustrating hearts full of joy. This thought struck me, THIS was church. No one had a problem with another. Everyone had something encouraging or uplifting to tell another. Everyone was there to thank God, each other and to have a good time. This was God's original plan for church. We were free. Free, in the sense that no one was looking to offend or be offended.  The atmosphere was as like as the whipped cream that topped the pumpkin pie; light and sweet. The heaviest thing was the pitcher of gravy on the table (which was phenomenal by the way). God wants us to fellowship and know each other in such a way that even though we are people form different walks of life in one location of various reasons, we can still gather together and thank Him for his goodness and enjoy another's company.

The Magic Fruit

The lovely citron tree in our backyard. 

When we first came to the property, earlier this summer, we found a beautiful piece of plant life in the backyard. It was a citron tree. We "ooooed" and "ahhhed' at the glorious greenery. You see, the citron is a  small, round, green or yellow, citrus fruit that has proven to help a body heal at amazingly fast speeds. It has cured: travelers' diarrhea , cold, cough, runny nose, sore throats, dehydration and fevers. These bad boys work so well that they are sold at respectably high prices. So you can imagine our complete joy when we saw that our future residence would be not only our home, but the home of a prized fruit.

Citron fruit

Today I woke up with my head throbbing, a soar throat and a fever. After trying both rest and ibuprofen, my mother decided it was time for me to drink citron juice. She squeezed a handful of these lemon-like fruits into a cup with some sugar, filled it with water and placed it in front of me. I took a sip. I could feel the mixture of sour and sweet (mostly sour) run down my throat. When I finished drinking I went to take another rest. Not even 45 minutes had gone by when my sore throat was no longer sore, my head wasn't throbbing and my fever had lowered.

This, tiny and extremely potent fruit is one fantastic creation of Him! If you ever want to try some for yourself just stop by. Our tree provides an abundance of them.