a moment of silence

these are times of extremes, times of remorse and ruination. let me explain.

i destroyed gladys, my faithful car. she was named after the wonderful, life-giving missionary in china who rescuded thousands of orphans from the hands of japanese soldiers. like her namesake, gladys the car was frugal and plain to look at, with an engine of gold. i loved that car. two of my friends got into accidents in that car, and i myself got in one. i loved not worrying about it; gladys was ugly to begin with, and nothing could destroy her.
nothing, i guess, but me.
i forgot to put oil in her. i wish i was kidding, but i thought the orange flashing sign meant that i should go to jiffy lube soon to get oil. a simple mistake killed the one car who treated me right.
last night me and krispin felt gladys a shutterin' and a shakin' on the I-84. i prayed over her, but gladys only made it to the foster road exit. she died right outside the new copper penny at 11:03 on a wednesday night. it was the first time i ever had to call my dad in the middle of the night to come pick me up, and he was gracious as usual. i was extremely grateful for krispin and his being male, because no girl ever wants to be stranded on foster and 82 at night.
today, i realized what life is like without a car: stressful. i drove my mom to work, took krispin back to school, met with my professor to make sure i wasn't failing my ethics class, got some coffee to calm my nerves, and drove to gladys to meet the tow truck driver.
he was very nice, with shorts and white socks and black tennis shoes. he had on a large oversized shirt that said "Sith happens", complete with a picture of the dark lord.
i followed him to the auto shop, paid up, and went to pick up my dad at his office. on the way, the shop called me and told me that gladys was gone for good.
i walked into my dad's office feeling like i was 16 years old, and as soon as i saw him i burst into tears. i sobbed out my story and he reacted as he always does when confronted with one of the extremely emotional strannigan women: he took me out to lunch and we discussed my new plan of action. i forget that my dad never, ever gets mad in situations like these. and it always reminds me of how poorly i understand grace.
krispin commondered a car and came out to clackamas for moral support. and we proceeded to have the best afternoon. i took care of everything with the auto shop and got my car ready to be taken by the wrecking company. we ripped up the dashboard, which was fun, and then went back to my house for 3 episodes of the office, tacos, and sitting in my room in the friscallating dusklight.

i feel strangely taken care of. i don't know why it feels so strange. maybe i am just realizing after all how not in control of my life i am. it feels good.
well, pretty good. i still am poor as it is possible to be in my demographic.

love, actually

tomorrow is wednesday, my somali day, and i am dreading it.
things are happening, change is in the air, and i don't like the way it makes me feel. i am beginning to become a little bit afraid of everything.
it is that fear that is more like a nag, a quiet little thought that is firm and gray as cement and that lodges itself it for the long haul. luckily, i am busy all of the time and rarely have to confront my cement thoughts, but they have started to pile up and i can't escape it any longer.
i fear comittment, i fear dissapointing people, i fear i have no traits of character, i fear that i talk to much, i fear that people are bored with me, i fear not being taken care of, i fear money in all of it's forms, i fear pointless responsibility, i fear not being nice, i fear people not liking me, i fear not listening to christ ever.
i think the last one is the one i need to worry about the most, judging by my list.
last week halima didn't want to hang out with me. she went and did homework with other kids and volunteers instead. i was crushed. the other two girls hung out with me in the apartment and told me all of the nasty things that other kids had been saying about me.
this too, was crushing. before, i had been untouchable, "danielle the volunteer" a friend and somewhat minimal presence in the lives of most of the kids at kateri. but now, it is okay to say that they hate me, that i am mean, that i am a christian (in a nasty way), that my morals are not pure. it felt like a little death. my reputation had been killed.
"well," i said, sighing when the girls told me, "what did you say to these kids that were talking about me?"
"oh," said nadifa, "we say, 'danielle is not like that, she is not that way'".
"thanks," i said. "thanks for saying that. because it is not true. i am not that way."

i know that this is spiritual battle, hands down. i stumbled upon a shady koran school at the complex and shared the easter story in the space of a few weeks. i'm not stupid. i knew there would be some recompense.

and here it is, i guess. i am here, living in my fear, befriending people who increasingly don't want to be my friend. i love them so much that it feels like i am losing some of my closest friends, and it's true. i see those girls more often than i see many of my friends.
but i can't shut down. i can't be cemented like this, in these thoughts. i will cling to this love that i have, the love that is somewhat poorly mirrored on what i have recieved from christ.

i'm crying right now, but i am taking it as a good sign.

thursday is my birthday, i hope that they will show

well, my birthday was a couple of days ago. usually it is a time of reflection for me, a time of thinking about where i have been and where i am going. this birthday, however, i did none of that. i was busy all morning, alone in a swirl of traffic, homework, class, and working at the library. and then there were friends and davids bridal (bridesmaid) dresses to deal with. and more driving. and then there was a very fun birthday party with chuck e cheese and i felt alternately extremely young (i rocked the ddr) and extremely old (i am now 23 and engaged to some one 3 years my junior). thankfully, my family prayed over me, which was wonderful.
but i never once sat down with christ to talk to him.
today i woke up more stressed than ever about school and my procrastinatin' ways. but in spite of all of that, i knew knew knew that i had to be alone with the lord.
so i did. it didn't fix all of my problems; in fact, i still have loads of stuff to do. i'm still selfish and i eat too much food and i let resentment gnaw at my bones and if left to my own devices i would sleep all the day long . . . but that's ok. i am more than the sum of my flaws.
i am a believer, and i have been asked to persevere to the end.

sorry if this all sounds so preachy. this is what happens when you mix real life with bible college. i feel so conflicted but there is the river of truth that runs underneath everything.
and for that, i am grateful.

af maay maay interpretation

we were driving along, three beautiful brown girls and one pasty white 20-something, enjoying the mid-afternoon early spring sun.
halima and nadifa were chattering away in their gorgeous yet intelligible language when i interrupted to make them share with me what they were saying. "oh", said halima. "i was just telling her, remember when we lived at 122nd? and we didn't know danielle?" "oh yeah," i said. "i remember when i met you.""yeah," she said. "now we friends." and she turned and stared dreamily out the window.
that pretty much made my day.

ransom

here are a couple of things i have been thinking about tonight, as i sit bored out of my mind in the john g. mitchell library during missions conference week. 4 hours down, and 1 to go:

1. beware of taking somali children to see a movie in a movie theater. jenni and i took our families (along with her sister and krispin) and it was a bust. we saw charlotte's web (great book, terrible movie), which the kids hated. abdulihi fell asleep. everybody got grossed out by charlotte the spider. and the kids were . . . bored. come to find out that their brother/uncle/cousin (i never quite know) had gotten an illegal copy of the movie from the asian market and they had seen it already. i also forget that these kids aren't exactly children either; at one point during the movie maryan pointed at the two crows onscreen and informed me that "those are the birds that eat the dead people", referencing her life in africa.

2. beware of american weddings. i know, i know, i have 10 months. but the way people have been treating me, it's like i have 10 days. here is what i don't want:
a. no stuffy wedding-ness.
b. no monogrammed napkins.
c. no extravagant waste of money.

here is what i do want:
a. missionary wedding!
this means the color scheme is that of a globe (brown, green, and blue), i want to buy everything second hand (from the dress to the decorations), i don't want to register anywhere for gifts, and i think it should be held in an old church with orange pews with a potluck reception containing deviled eggs, cocktail weiners, jello-salad (green, natch), and cupcakes instead of the traditional stuff.
give me suggestions, people.

3. beware of literal interpretations of books of prophecy. the book of revelation is crazy. i feel like i am in a bad sci-fi movie when i try and envision all of the things it is talking about. so i try not to, because i don't think that's what the original author intended. but still. what the heck does it all mean? i'm reading matthew as a counter-balance, and i am finding comfort in the sermon on the mount.
actually, i am just trying to find comfort in christ. period.

you remind me of home.

the engagement story.

two weeks ago, as we were casually hanging out, krispin announced that he had been doing some thinking. "there are two things," he said. "one, i think we should be in a band together." i agreed. "and two, i think we should get married. in december." i agreed to that as well. it was all very low-key and danielle and krispin-like. the next day he asked my parents, and they were thrilled to the bone.
now, both krispin and i are the epitome of poor bible college students, and i have never been a traditionalist. i absolutely did not want krispin breaking his back to get me a diamond ring that i would most likely lose on the mission field. and so, we talked to my mom and she produced my great-grandmother's engagement ring, a beautifully simple gold band with single pearl.
then, all krispin had to do was figure out a way to surprise me.
last week was extremely busy for both krispin and i, in fact, i hardly saw him. on saturday, we had made plans to hang out after i got off of work. krispin had told me that his friend jacob was coming in from out of town, and that we were going to go hang out in downtown portland with him. i was a little bummed that my one afternoon with krispin was going to be shared with jacob, but i was excited about seeing him regardless.
after i got off work and drove home, i noticed a note taped to the back door that showed a boy holding hands with a girl who had a house for a head. i was extremely confused. the only person who wrote me strange little notes was krispin, and i was supposed to pick him up at multnomah in an hour. i walked inside my house to find a table set with ornate chinese place settings, complete with a heart made out of red chili peppers. krispin was in the process of cooking a gourmet chinese meal (from scratch, using authentic ingredients from the local asian grocery store). as soon as he saw me, he proposed. he was extremely nervous, which i thought was cute.
basically, he explained the note like this:
"i've lived in a lot of places, and i'm going to live in a lot more places, but you are home to me."
and, if you can't already tell, i said yes.


my three favorite things right now:
dark chocolate
matthew chapters 5-7
being engaged to krispin.

goodbye mom hair

hello danielle hair.

i ate it, and i loved every bite.

i had a couple of firsts today: my first p.e. class ever, and my first middle school science fair ever.
i know, both of these would logically be experienced in middle school, but i was homeschooled.
so here i am now, taking woman's weight training at multnomah, and acting like i am the surrogate mom to halima, an 8th grader.
the science fair especially was so weird. first of all, all of the exhibits were horrendously ugly, but not as ugly as the ones the esl kids made. i felt so bad for them. they obviously had no idea what they were doing. all of the esl kids (around 20) were placed into groups of three and did experiments with "exercise and heart rate". the kids were supposed to stand in front of their booth and explain their project to the passing judges. it was painful to watch halima and osman struggle their way through a simple explanation. i don't think they had a clue what they were doing.
halima introduced me to her teacher, a very nice woman (the kind of person who dedicates their life to children and who doesn't color her hair or wear make-up and who drape shawls around her shoulders instead of wearing a coat) and she told me that it was mandatory by state law that all of the kids enter a science project, and so the esl kids were told that they just had to struggle their way through.

there were jr. highers running around everywhere, and the gym was hot and sweaty. i stood next to halima and osman's project and tried not to look too out of place. it must have worked, for one judge asked me to tell him about my project. i politely deferred to the real middle schooler and snuck off to stand by the bleachers and observe kids. it was terrifying. all of the girls are mature physically, with breasts and hips and blow-dried hair and eye-liner and sassy tight t-shirts, but the boys all look like they are ten years old and incapable of any real conversation. thus, the attempts at flirting are somewhat painful to watch. girls at this age seem to be starting to realize the full grasp of their physical powers, and the boys are doing everything they can not to care. my favorites were the 6th grade boys, who actually don't care yet, and who are still consumed with things like science and dirt bikes and anything that makes weird noises.
some girls, make-up applied and t-shirts snug, walked past halima, who was strikingly beautiful with her head covering and her wide, perfect brown face. "hi", she called out loudly and abruptly, as she is want to do. the girls turned and stared. they were silent for a couple of seconds. "oh. hi." and then they walked off. halima turned to me. "they my friends," she said, still blissfully unaware of the crueler realities of american jr. high.
i was both incredibly sad and happy for halima, and for all of the somali bantu.
but i know she will make it. and i am so glad i get to have these experiences every week. tonight i ate a banana for the first time since i was 8. i hate banana's. but when an earnest african child gives you one of her favorite foods to eat, what else are you going to do?
i ate it, and i loved every bite.
a good metaphor for my life right now.

i love my sister

hey hey i made a cake for my sister's 21st birthday. laura helped. she is the one who drew the picture. she can't stop writing the word "love".
i started school today, i don't think i will be a stress case this time around, however. the bible is the living word.

the obligatory january blog

well, it's 2007. i had the lamest new year's eve. i don't think that 2007 is going to be lame, however.
it's the year of living missionally, of a gospel-centered life, of purposeful walking, yellow clothes, crocheted mittens, remembering guitar chords, of not letting fear crawl inside and live.

happy new year.

did you know you would be my savior?

well, i know i've been lame. don't remind me. enough with your snarky little comments, krispin, i haven't seen you blogging very much either. the days are too full, literally and figuratively, and i just want to nap with all of my family surrounding me.
christmas was wonderful this year.
my family are fantastic, and i loved all of the strays that came our way this year. krispin has been staying at my house, which is fun for all of us and a bit overwhelming for him (he described me and my two sisters as "vain". he just doesn't understand the joys of talking about one's appearence). and then dave came over for christmas day and it was like he was an honorary strannigan. and then we went to the somali's apartment and majuma looked happy, really happy, for maybe two seconds. and i was thrilled to my bones, and it was as every christmas should be. i was blessed unbelievably by my parents, and then we were all able to bless others.
my sisters are leaving soon and the sadness is starting to come.
but life moves on, christmas the day came and went, and i still know why the day means so much to me.
i am free, i am redeemed.
merry christmas ya'll.

the way i feel inside.

this has been one of the worst weeks in my life.
i hope that in retrospect it turns out to be the beginning of some of the best.

"i" said the sheep, with curly wool.

i changed my blog for christmas because i'm so excited the season is here but i'm too busy to celebrate it in any other way right now. i have to come up with the philosophy of philemon, read I and II kings, I and II chronicles, ezra, nehemiah, and esther by friday, write a 25 page paper over the weekend, study for 4 different finals, and manage not to disappoint any friends/family/signifigant others in the process.
but my life's not that bad.
today i studied, got frustrated in class, went for a lovely walk in the lovely air with a lovely boy, studied more, got less frustrated in class, and then i went to little somalia. hassan was in the hospital again, so i took majuma, mohammed, and jama to visit him. we wandered around providence, me leading a group of elderly african muslims through a very catholic hospital. finally, we found him, crumpled up in a little bed. majuma had cooked and brought hassan food and she held his skinny wrist in her hand and didn't say anything. jama and hassan had a very long conversation, and i didn't catch a word of it. when i pressed, they just told me that he was "good".

it was one of the highlights of my week. don't ask me to put words to it.
the hospital was all decorated for christmas, and was very beautiful. i felt wonderful looking at all of the lights, and very fragile.

it's christmas! that means sisters and muppets and hot chocolate and time to read books but it also means being clear-eyed and purposeful, remembering to live each day in the light that this is all a shadow. this sounds much more imposing than i want it to. i can't help it. i feel free.

are you a sleeper?

its so windy that little gladys shakes and shudders and i can't help but get a thrill when i see the yellow leaves in a brown whirlwind whipping by my face but i hate my hair and when will it be long enough so that little pieces won't fly and hit me in my mouth and why is it the only time i stop to be grateful these days is when nature hits me hard enough to stumble, and i have to say thanks to christ.
it's been a glorious fall.
the charlie brown thanksgiving special was lame, and i think all little kids know it. the book of first peter is amazing and convicting. people are extremely troubled and hopeful, usually at the same time. i don't know what to say anymore. i'm trying to change the way i think these days.
bring on thankfulness! bring on christmas music! bring on family! bring on well-written 20 page papers, somali day at chuck e' cheese, boyfriends who write poetry, clean bedroom floors, and real communion with god!

i just got tired all of the sudden. in a good way.

break it down

i'm having a slight breakdown today . . . i called in sick to school and instead i slept in and i am reading in john and later on i am going to read the books of psalms/job/proverbs and i am going to pray a lot and look out the window and drink coffee and miss my sisters and i am also going to enjoy not going to school. i have been doing so good all semester . . . barely even a hint of cynicism at the institution known as multnomah school of the bible. but then yesterday happened, which is a long, boring story, and i wanted to quit. that instant. i hated the school, the required classes, the lack of professors who i learn from, the amount it costs me (financially and emotionally) to go there, the countless non-credit commitments i have to make (chapel 3 days a week, student ministries lab), and the fact that i have to go for 2 more semesters.
most of all, i hate feeling trapped.

i think i must be part gypsy. yesterday somebody asked me why i so badly wanted to be a missionary. he said: "are you running away from something? how do you know that you won't get overseas and discover that you can't run away from yourself?"
this only made me think for a couple of seconds. i know i can't run away from myself, just like i can't run away from my fundamentalist evangelical consumerist charismatic conservative form of christianity. but that's ok.
every time i go to another country, my view of christ and who he is broadens. the american church doesn't have it nailed down. neither does the indian church, or the croatian, or the turkish. we need each other to make sure we are not coming imbalanced. i guess maybe i need to see my time at multnomah as a chance to confront my own imbalances while i have the opportunity.

people are wrong. everybody told me that multnomah can suck you dry, take away your passion for christ and for the bible.

but i've never been more hungry for the bible in my life. it feels like a new book all over again. it is fantastic literature, what hemingway and steinbeck and salinger tried to write but failed miserable. it makes me think for hours. it puts my life into perspective. it is confusing, terrible, and beautiful. it reminds me of how dim my view of christ is. and i get happy, because i know he is so much brighter.

i need good friends and free time and family, and i need to not worry about the future or money or cars breaking down.

most of all, i just needed a morning off.

"mordecai".

i am sitting on my bed, looking at a picture of a hawk named mordecai, feeling ecstatic at several things:
1. i evangelized tonight. in a non-smary, totally holy-spirited initiated and implemented way.
2. i just aced a test i was pretty nervous about.
3. i really, really like krispin.
4. i am going out to breakfast with my mom tomorow!
5. and it's liturgical chapel tomorrow as well!
6. AND FALL! OH MY GOSH IT REALLY IS FALL, ISN'T IT? I COULD JUST HUG SOMEBODY EVERY TIME I COME IN MY BACKYARD AND SEE THIS ONE TREE THAT LOOKS LIKE IT IS ON FIRE BECAUSE HALF OF IT IS BRIGHT YELLOW AND HALF OF IT IS BRIGHT RED, WHICH IS HOW I ALWAYS COLORED FIRE WHEN I WAS A LITTLE KID.
ah.
i decided to be crazy tonight.
i decided to blog on a thursday night, and i decided to blog when i was in a good mood.

blame puberty.

wednesdays are the new blog days.

not only because i have the evening free, but because i am unusually reflective on wednesday afternoons.

today i had a meltdown of sorts. well, it really just entailed me lying on my bedroom floor in a patch of sunlight with my dog circling my head and me begging christ to take away my stress. but the more i thought about it, the more i realized i wasn't stressed. instead, i was afraid.

i'm afraid that i don't have the money i need to pay the lady i hit on saturday. i'm afraid that i will never have a job that i like and that pays well enough. i am afraid of an absolutely empty bank account. i am afraid that i am being half-assed in all of my classes. i am afraid of every assignment, because i know i need to be better. i am afraid of relationships. i am afraid of being dependent on people. i am afraid that god is mad at me, or at least annoyed. i am afraid that i am dissapointing everybody.

but, today was another day with the somali's. we went to the park, and the only thing i taught today was the mechanics behind swinging. once the girls figured out how to do it themselves, they were ecstatic. and then we played on the merry-go-round, the monkey bars, the slide, and the teeter-totter. i was in awe, as usual, at their boundless joy and enthusiasm. i know how horrible their lives can be, but they bounce back so quickly. little kids are resiliant things. and then i was envious. they tried to teach me how to do flips on the bars, but i couldn't do it. have you ever noticed how amazingly agile little kids are? ever since i turned 13 i have progressively felt heavier, sturdier, and thicker.

i curse puberty.

anyways, i need to get back to my mounds of schoolwork. but it is fall, the most romantic time of the year, and i have a four day weekend. what glory!

i shall be grateful.

the others

i'm tired, but i see the light at the end of the tunnel. today i prayed with an old friend, sprawled out on the carpet. i couldn't get up. i feel hopelessly inadequte, and guilt is a constant plague.

but then today i went and sat in majuma and hassan's apartment, i helped cook food for the ramadan feast, and then i sat on the couch to help the girls with their homework. hassan lay curled on the bed, sick and dying, with only a sheet to cover him. majuma was lying on the mattress next to my couch, sick with a headache, and hungry from the fasting. halima crawled up into my lap and promptly fell asleep herself. i laid my head back and soaked in the stillness for 15 minutes.

right now i am watching lost by myself, something i swore i would never do again, and i am working on a grammatical analysis of ephesians chapters 1-3. basically, it's all about the will of God in Christ.

i cry with people, i miss my family, i miss people i see everyday but only in shallow contexts, i hate my job and might actually quit this time, i feel like doing pilates on a more consistent basis, i'm experiencing the ups and downs of being in love, i'm falling asleep ever earlier, and my cat let me cuddle with it today.

thats about it, really.

september. in two sentences.

i'm too busy to blog, too tired to answer my phone, i pee flourescent yellow and take naps on the slide as somalian children swing.
i need some grace, here.

this summer just wasn't my summer

i just watched a documentary called "the boys of baraka." i encourage everyone to watch it, but only if you want to be both inspired and devestated at the same time. it is about a couple of 12 year old boys from baltimore that get sent to school in kenya for a year, and what ultimately happens to them. one of the boys, richard, describes coming home for the summer as this:
"this summer just wasn't my summer. it ran like water."


i started school today, and it made me realize how i am confused as to what happened with my summer. i feel like nothing was accomplished, no ends tied up, no moral or spiritual lessons discovered and applied. it just meandered on, and i tried to live each day as it came. in fact, i think i was constantly trying to make it seem or feel or be better than it actually was.

well, it was a lame summer.

i'm really excited for the fall, and not only because i get to wear a scarf and drink even more coffee and read interesting books, but because i am excited for change. school, in a way, inspires a sense of change for me. it helps me to think, and it helps me to second guess my own thought processes.

i don't live in baltimore. i don't have drug dealers or an abusive mom or cops or a dad who is in prison to deal with.

i just have clackamas.