mardi 8 septembre 2009

Best Youtube video, ever.
Shoutout to one of my best girls, Deirdre. You are better than a pumpkin spice latte, a Myriade latte, or coffee in general :)

This was her birthday present for me.

samedi 22 août 2009

If there was a Facebook quiz on
"Which Biblical prophet would you be?"
I'd definitely be Elijah. I'm feeling the whole life-sucks-let-me-crawl-away-into-the-wilderness-and-mope thing.

lundi 3 août 2009

My pulse was increasing steadily,
I was feeling anxious all over and couldn't even focus on the small talk at my grandparents' dinner table. But I couldn't talk to them about it, I didn't want to freak them out. I was freaking out when I probably shouldn't be.

Half an hour later, I'm at the local Starbucks (yes I know, don't shoot me) using the internet, and feeling anxious still. I'm doing stuff, trying to be a good correspondant, planning stuff for Em Closs' bachelorette. My pulse's speed has subsided, though my stomach is starting to churn now. It's irrational, I've prayed about it, where is the consolation? Why are they playing so many sappy songs at Sbux?!

(Max, if you are reading this, please know that I love you)!

And then Fleet Foxes' "White Winter Hymnal" comes on, something that's been bringing a smile to my face these past few days. And then I feel it. The sunset breaks through the Richmond Hill rooftops and washes over my face. I feel it: Rachel, I'm here. It's okay.

God has this way of making things okay. Even when they weren't a life-or-death issue in the first place. Man, I love you Jesus.

vendredi 31 juillet 2009

Stay humble*
It's for your own, It's for your own goodness sake
It's for your own protection from steps that you might take
I'm selfish, there I said it
It scares me when I see that I can't deny what comes so naturally

Stay humble, humble, humble
Stay humble, humble
Stay humble, humble, humble
Stay humble

It's for your own, it's for your own clear view
It's for your own efforts to hold on to what's true
My comfort and my glory are shaken when I see
That my life's not a story about me

Stay humble...


I don't participate in competitive or even recreational sports because my limbs are so poorly coordinated. I'm not being modest here, they really suck. So when my friend Christina asked if I wanted to join her for a 10k run in September, I kind of shirked. But pride or a sense of "hey, I can use a good challenge" took over and I accepted.

But today I am 3 hours away from August, and I only recently achieved running 5k without stopping. Ten kilometres is twice what I can run... what if I fail, what if I stop in the middle and the girls I do the run with have to go ahead without me? I can't put up with that kind of embarassment... And then I realize that it's not about me. It's about the physical discipline needed to take care of the temple, a task charged to me when God granted me health this morning. It's about doing things I might not be good at, reminding me that it is indeed impossible to be good at everything. And instead of thinking shame, I want to think "this is where the world comes together," where we do what we were made to be good at.

Okay anonymous reader, tomorrow I will attempt a 5.5k jog to the Old Port. Here's to staying humble.


---
*From Tyler James' "Stay Humble."

mercredi 22 juillet 2009

Sometimes you get a glimpse of heaven.
"Wai, Rachel?"
I had just been on the phone for the past 2 hours with a coupla girlfriends of mine, and I couldn't exactly figure out who was on the line now.
"Rachel? Emily Mom ah."
No way. We hadn't talked for years, and now at 11:37 p.m. she was calling me? With a congenial tone?

What came over the next 50 minutes was one of the most unexpected conversations of my life. Simply put, she asked for my forgiveness and talked about how she could start to support me as a stepmother. I was floored. I am floored. The conversation didn't erase the past, it didn't help us see life the same way, but it put us in relationship again. Sometimes life is just this simple. Sometimes you get solid, concrete evidence that Christ does make all things new, and heck, if according to my stepmom He spoke to her through the Bible to seek reconciliation with me, I'd be a fool to ever doubt his ability.

It's like the euphoria I feel when pulling the perfect shot, of holding Max's hand, or of riding a bike in the morning before Montreal wakes up. It's this feeling that I was created for this other life, where things are new and healed and beautiful. I get a glimpse of heaven.

lundi 15 juin 2009

Words
Since knowing Emily and Aban, I've started to express so much more through hugs and touch. When life is really hard, there's something about a firm hand on your shoulder that says so much more than words can... words that, if uncarefully put together or misinterpreted, can seem trite. Or I can tell Max that I miss him, but to me there's nothing that can say it more than giving him a big hug for a long time.

And then I met my Nikon D40... and photos became my way of attesting to God's glory. His sunset across Paris as seen from the Basilique Sacre Coeur - to capture it was my way of expressing the sense of wonder I felt at that moment.

And there are a million other ways of communicating - a Sigur Ros song, homemade cookies, a lift home. But I keep this blog so that it can attest to what God does and who He is. I am a girl in love! With Max, yes :) But also with Christ, and a natural overflow is to commemorate our moments and lessons together through this blog. Like back in the Old Testament when people built altars to express their experience with God, I hope this blog is like my altar.

I've long moped about not having a camera and not being able to make this blog more of a photoblog. But since pursuing work as a barista doesn't exactly earn you $5G a month (or any Gs at all for that matter...), here are my words. Allow me to get reacquainted with my old Houghton Mifflin Dictionary, and back to this blog.

mercredi 27 mai 2009

Listening to Five for Fighting's "100 Years"
***
Dignity

I wonder that as a 23-year old, whether I can say with dignity that yes, I have am a legal adult, have an honours degree and jam-packed resume to boot, but am jobless. Yesterday at the grocer's, my roommate asked me something like, "are you sure you want to buy that? You don't have a job." I looked at the bread aisle for something to throw at her. But civility (and God, thank goodness) took over and instead I said, "I would really appreciate you not mentioning my employment status in public." But this got me thinking, why does it bother me so much? And under closer inspection, the reasons that cause me to feel shame lose their ground. I know why I left that crazy cafe, and I do not regret it. My fellow baristas can attest to me giving 110%, working with integrity, and trying to keep it real even when a customer yells at you for making a poor cappucino. So I'll try to remember that and walk with my head held high. Even when I'm in the middle of the grocer's with my roommate.