Flash

Tonight I felt compelled to do a bit of flash writing. Lately, I have been thinking about the Book of Matthew, specifically Matthew 3:11-12 when it speaks of the wheat and the chaff. I thought of how the threshing floor may have looked like and wrote something below. I'm sure what I've written is not accurate, but hopefully it's interesting enough. I'm not entirely sure what my point was in writing it other than I felt a strong urge to write. 

THE THRESHING FLOOR

Slender stalks of wheat tan under the Indian sun as the soft air whistles between them. Clouds of spikelets fly overhead – frozen in mid-air and gently blanketing the earth as they descend.

Tonight the farmer comes to harvest his work. He swings his mighty sickle, holding it by his waist as he grabs for handfuls of his precious stalks. Sweat drips from his brows. Palms redden and ache. Each stalk was carefully sown. Each stalk was delicately made. Every bundle stored inside his barn.

But as the breeze blew, yellow spikelets sprinkled the ground. Some scattered between the leftover stalks; others were carried away with the wind, but none were of any worth.

With several logs under his arms, the farmer begins to stack the wood atop the chaff. He places a burning coal underneath and watches the smoke wrap around the logs like a snake choking its prey. As dusk descends, swelling flames of red and orange wave atop the chaff crackling and spitting until all was consumed.

RG Update

Wednesday marks the fourth week of Redemption Group. It has gotten easier, I will admit, but as mentioned before, I was very anxious. The RG Intensive Weekend was, in all essence of the word, intense. Everyone in RG shared their story among their appointed group - the task I dreaded the most. I was the fifth to share my story in a group of six (not counting the ladies who oversee the group). As the other ladies were speaking, my thoughts raced to what I should or should not share, ways to curb the imminent tears I would shed while sharing my story (clearing my throat, deepening my voice, blinking like crazy, etc.), but mostly praying for peace and trusting that this is where God would have me be when I didn't want to be.

However, after sharing my story, I felt relief. The best way to describe it is like I cut myself open and I'm bleeding out. Or a better metaphor is I am a brick wall and God is manning a demolition ball. And yet, in this I find relief.

In my relief, a question keeps going off in my head that seeks to be answered:
why do I dread being transparent?
 
There are two emotions I am comfortable conveying:
happiness and anger. What I am not comfortable conveying is my vulnerability.

 
 

vul·ner·a·ble

   /ˈvʌlnərəbəl/ Show Spelled[vuhl-ner-uh-buhl]

adjective

 

1. capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt, as by a weapon: a vulnerable part of the body.

 

2. open to moral attack, criticism, temptation, etc.: an argument vulnerable to refutation; "He is vulnerable to bribery."

 

3. (of a place) open to assault; difficult to defend: a vulnerable bridge.

 

 

These are not traits our society worships. We worship strength, power, and control, but the weak are often picked on and the strong are praised for doing so. So why do I feel relief for exposing  myself and bleeding out?

 

A couple of weeks ago, God had shown me a glimpse of what I looked like struggling with being vulnerable and transparent. As I sat in the hot seat being asked hard questions at RG, anxiety and a multitude of lies from the Enemy flooded through my head as I felt my fingers twisting the Kleenex I had used to wipe my face until tiny white specks peppered my hands. I felt emotionally drained trying to keep myself composed when I wasn't even doing a good job of that.

 

The more I look at my sin - those I've committed and those committed against me - it is hard to see anything but shame and hurt. But even this is not the full depth of what God sees of my sin and everyone's sin and its effects in our world. Do we even allow ourselves to?

 

Last Thursday, my co-worker served a kindly older gentleman. He used sign language though he spoke well enough, and even apologized for his excessive signing. After talking with him a bit, this guest told my co-worker how he was in the Marines, got injured and suffered

 brain damage from his injury and had to relearn everything from the ground up. He repeatedly thanked my co-worker for her great service and patience with him and was excessively kind to her. My co-worker was so taken aback by his kindheartedness, she began to cry and could not stop talking about this gentleman to everyone else. She was a bit embarassed by her reaction, but I felt truly blessed to see her heart reacting so tenderly to a man who has experienced great difficulty in his life.

 

How many of us react like this to the hurts committed to others? Unbeknownst to her, my co-worker had shown me a tiny glimpse of how God sees the sins we commit against Him and each other.

 

Even though our world worships the strong, the powerful, and the ones in control, it is in our weakest moments God shows us His true strength, power, and control. And the times I've declined His invitations to sit with Him in my brokeness are moments I've robbed myself of seeing how good God really is.

 

Please pray for the rest of my time and for those who are in RG these next few weeks. For the Lord to work and the Holy Spirit to move. I'm sorry if this post was a bit scattered. I'm a bit scatter-brained.

 

 

Until next time,

Q

Camping Withdrawals

"the world is mud-licious and puddle-wonderful."

e.e. cummings

It has been two weeks since we've been back from vacation and I'm still pretty sad. I miss the outdoors and seeing everything that the Lord has made. However, it has really sparked my interest to backpack.

BUT before I get too ahead of myself, I have made a goal for myself: to do a hike once a week. First, it'll be the puny, whimpy ones then I'll go to the intermediate hikes, and finally graduate to the longer, strenuous ones. Last week, my friend, Laura, and I drove to North Bend to hike Franklin Falls - a whopping 2 miles roundtrip and along the way, we saw this sweet sight:

 



But the actual falls was still about a mile down. They were pretty, but no raging rapids, and the water a bit receded.



(If you're wondering who that blue figure is, it's Laura. )However, as I sat on the big rocks taking the scenery in, I found myself wishing I brought a sammy or Thermos of soup.  A reward or something for my baby accomplishment. But tomorrow will be hike number deux to Tilapia Lake.

 

What?! It's actually Talapus Lake, but the last time I hiked it that's what I called it.

 

 

According to our Falcon guide, Talapus Lake is a very popular short hike, rated at moderate and only 3.2 miles roundtrip (whoop whoop!) As mentioned before, I hiked Talapus Lake on July 5, 2010. At that time, I did not like hiking and only went because Jason loves the outdoors and I wanted to spend time with him. When I suggested we hike Talapus Lake, he was kind enough to remind me how much I disliked the muddy trail and the funny wooden bridges that seemed a bit dodgy. However, I may have been biased then so we're going to hike it again. Aaand, I will try to not complain this time.

 

Now, one last picture from the hike for the road...

 

 

 

Until next time.

-Q 

Chuffed*

Lots of things are happening this week, and I'm pretty ess-ited!

 

1. This coming Monday will be our one year anniversary.** Yay! So that means...

 

2. VACATION TIME! We're going to go camping and roadtripping to wherever we want to. For now, we have no idea where we're going and will most likely wing it half the time. We bought some gear and other goodies to bring so tons of stuff to pack and prep tomorrow and possibly this weekend. Now, with vacation time around the corner, it also means...

 

3. No work! Oh yeah!

 

4. After three years, we're finally going to visit the Puyallup Fair. I know it's loud, cluttered, and chock full of raggamuffins causing obscene noise, but it'll be fun. We went to their calender and made an itinerary of the fun things we want to see like yarn spinning from raw fibers, 4-H horses, fiber and yarn dyeing, woodcarving, snowshoe tracking, textile demonstrations (whatever that means), archery, and other cool things. Plus, we located all the foods we wanted to eat - SCONES, funnel cakes, CARAMEL APPLES, elephant ears, taffy, mini donuts, and other things to help obstruct any healthy flowing arteries we have left.

 

5. With the re-opening of Little Knits on California, I am back on a knitting spree. I had started a couple of projects last month - one is a hat for a friend, and the other is a neck warmer for me. I used Malabrigo Rasta - a bulky weight yarn with variegated purples, reds, freckled with blue hues, and I used a pattern I found from Phydeaux Designs. Pictures will be posted postscript because I need to find a good button to keep the ends together. And, I'm almost done with another hat I'm making for myself. Aaand, I bought more yarns today when I already have tons of skeins in my yarn stash*** I've been wanting/needing to use. Plus, I promised myself I will be knitting my very first sweater this fall. We'll see how that goes.****
 

 

BUT.

 

With exciting things ahead, there are a couple things I've been a little meh about--

 

1. Last month Jason and I registered for Redemption Group*****. First let me preface this by saying, I love my church. It is proactive in spreading the gospel to everyone because, like MHC, I believe every single person needs Jesus. But after witnessing a few friends from church go through the class and seeing the sunken eyes from crying (Kleenex is readily available) and hearing the depth of emotional transparency encouraged by those overseeing the group, I got real scared real quick.

 

This blog is a project. I am not this open. My emotions are pushed aside frequently and I only say what I wish to reveal. To sit with a group of other women and talk about ourselves candidly is going to be difficult. In a word, I am terrified. I asked for prayer from my CG in this, and mentally, I understand openness is necessary to take anything away from the class, but, emotionally and physically, I want to round up my stuffed animals sit in my closet and hide.

 

So yeah. Pray for me. 

 

2. This is not as paramount as joining Redemption Group, but for our roadtrip, I really wanted to visit Powell's Books in Portland. I would have loved to spend a day looking through the shelves and adding to my collection, but for the sake of time and money, we'll only be in WA. We also wanted to see Tillamook Farms because the 18th is National Cheeseburger Day.

Boo.

 

 

Well, things are cooling down and I foresee many changes in the future. My sources tell me they will be good. And sorry if the structure of this post was scattered. Adding footnotes organically came out of this post and I just stuck with it. Plus, I think my writing can be more stream of consciousness, thus a little annoying.

 

My bad.

 

Anywho, I hope to write more often and visually assult anyone who reads this blog with badly taken photos of PNW and my life, and induce headaches with my non-linear writing.

Until next time,

Q

 

 

 

*Not to be confused with chuff. (lol.)
 

**Techncially, it's been four years, but once you get married, I was informed the wedding anniversary supersedes any other anniversary dates. This year, it worked in my favor because I forgot our first date anniversary. But it doesn't count anymore so I was in the clear. But no worries, he's getting something good.

***My stash equates to an overfilling 16 gallon storage container, plus skeins stuffed inside duffels, reusable bags, and those hidden around the house.

****My actual first attempt at knitting a sweater was over two years ago. I worked from the bottom up, and stopped right underneath the armpits because the instructions told me to separate the sts onto different needles, place x number of sts on these needles and from there knit the sleeves from the cuff, and afterwards you knit the yoke and decrease to y number of sts, etc. (If you understood any of that, let me know because I didn't.) And FYI, knitting socks sucks too.

*****For the non-Mars Hillians, it's a class offered by our church for those who currently struggle with past or present sin, or things in their lives that pervade, hinder, or obstruct close relationship with Jesus. The class can be a pivotal event that may lead to a deeper closeness with God.

S/He

Yet again, I have managed to wait another few months to write another post. I really need to work on that.

During this time, a new addition was added to the Larson clan.

Her name is Ellie Selena Pancake Larson, however, Jason prefers using either Smelly or Selena, so I've been encouraging him to use the latter. An awesome friend, Jules, from church works on a cute farm called Fox Hollow Farms and I told her about my love for adorable rabbits, then she asked if I wanted one from the recent litter on the farm. My answer would have been heck yes! but I needed some time to talk to the husband. After a week or two of convincing him how awesome it would be to have a rabbit, he finally agreed. (YAY!)

She is such a fluffball. I thought she hated me at first, but she let's me hold her close and pet her. I had some trouble holding her properly and would fidget in my arms causing tons of scratch marks on my arms and chest. For a bit I looked suicidal with horrible aim, but the scars have lightened up.

There are two things I've learned about Selena. When petted behind her ears or somewhere she likes, she grinds her teeth softly which sounds like purring. Also, she licks. When I put my nose to her, she goes crazy and just licks my face. I love it. She's adorable. However...

...the first day I got Selena, I tried to determine her sex. She was held up to me as I searched amidst the clouds of fur to find out if she was a boy or a girl. But when it came down to it, I couldn't tell. She is wayyy too furry and fluffy. She started to fidget so I just decided she was a girl. This past week, it entered my mind to check again to make sure that, ya know, she was actually a girl. I checked once. Then twice. Then thrice. Then...found out Selena is a boy.

Huh.

Now I need a boy's name. These are on the list: Toby and Spike. I need more options.

Selena, or Seleno, I heart you.

Father's Day Is Not Today

But I have loads to update so this day will suffice as the day to talk about my FD. Also, I need to be consistently adding posts on a weekly basis so I stop making posts like this one. It also means this post may be excessively long. My bad.

Let’s recap: Father's Day was on June 17. My father made FD very interesting…

Before I continue, let me preface this by saying my parents and I have not been on the same page for the past three to four years. Because I do not wish to gripe, let me condense it down to this: they had a plan for my life different than one the Lord intended I have, and His plan was one I was actually willing to follow. This led to many fights, to feelings of me being less than, to my heart becoming extremely hardened toward them as I felt our strained relationship was my fault, but still yo-yoing being wanting to pull away to protect myself and feeling guilty for pulling away.

A couple of months ago, another fight broke out between my mother, myself, and even my sister. I felt like a piñata and they each held a stick whacking away at me with their blindfolds off. I told them this was the last time they’d see me, hoping it would stir remorse in their hearts for hurting my feelings. It didn’t. My promise did not hold up since my sister graduated two weeks ago, so I eventually saw them again.

Back to the present - I did NOT want to call my dad. I had talked with Jason about this, hoping something would direct me. He told me to pray about it. I prayed. Briefly. Not delved in to it as I ought to for I was afraid of God telling me to call my dad anyway regardless of our history, regardless of my past hurt, and regardless of any snide remarks he might say to me. I even told myself, “Oh no, he’ll be hearing from one less daughter this year.” I grew weak as Father’s Day approached. Thoughts of my father as a lost person who exhibits no personal relationship with the Lord, wondering what life is all about crept in my head. My father, whose idea of success is about the number of zeros between the 1 and the period on a paycheck.

My heart softened a bit, enough to text my sister to find out my Dad’s phone number. (His number changed sometime back and I never got around to asking him what it was. I’m sure that was sometime at the end of last year.) I found out he was in Texas and will probably be there for most of the year for a job. This fact I was thankful for because I was afraid of physically being at my parents’ house. When I called him, he seemed overjoyed. Actually, more surprised than overjoyed.  No, surprised then/and overjoyed. However, I kept my guard up, preparing myself for any jabs he might take, but none came. He even told me how much he appreciated my calling him, that it meant quite a lot for me to call him and encouraged me to shoot him a text whenever I can, too.

Weird.

Who was this man? It sounded like my father, but didn’t act like him. Was this a joke? Would this version of him last?

I have no idea what to make of that conversation. The Lord may be softening my father’s heart to Him by using me. I pray that He does and I may be used for His Glory. But how do I also protect myself from being used as punching bag? Is that even possible? I have not texted or called my dad or mom since FD because I have become a master of absence and avoidance in my relationships with them.

So please, pray for my heart. I am stubborn. My heart is hard. I am afraid.

------

There is more stuff to add later of the past week. I plan on posting them by the end of this week. We’ll see how that goes. Until then -

Blessings,

Q

Psalm 27

Since November of last year, I was working two jobs: mornings at the Bellevue Lucky Brand Jeans and evenings at the Covington Applebee's. With both jobs, I worked full-time or a little over - not counting the time it took driving - and had maybe one and a half days off every week. LBJ was my second job and kept it after the holidays only for the amazing employee discount. It felt nice to look good while spending less that I normally would. As months progressed, my pursuit of a writing career was a bit strained. Instead of using the few mornings I wasn't at LBJ to hit up Craigslist or Indeed, I slept in until a couple of hours before I had to leave for Applebee's. Or if I was up early, I would spend that time getting myself sucked into Facebook, Twitter, Wordpress, Blogger, Google, or watching court shows, talk shows, fashion shows, or whatever instead.

To be clear, I wasn't a complete bum. I started off pretty motivated and applied to a handful of places, but with every unanswered application, I was discouraged -  

Was my resume that bad? Did I not edit my cover letter thoroughly?

Then it turned in to doubt -

Maybe I am a horrible writer. Maybe this isn't where the Lord is directing me. Am I even qualified for anything?

I began to give up and sat in front of the TV watching every silly TV show on my Netflix queue. I would talk with Jason about how difficult it had been looking for jobs. At first he sympathized, but our talks turned into nightly bitch fests about how much I began to resent both jobs, what some rude customer said to me and how I responded in unloving and unforgiving ways. My husband grew deadpan with every story I filled with vulgarity and malice, and I began to resent him for not feeling angry with me. I thought, He works in Renton! He should understand ghetto!

But I heard myself becoming someone I did not want to be. Someone that was not for Christ nor the loving wife to my husband.

But how do I stop? I was so unhappy and didn't want to drop a job impulsively. There was a tug on my heart to leave LBJ, but even if I quit, what did that guarantee besides making less money? I wanted something to happen, but what did I need to do?

"Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!"

Psalms 27:14

This verse hit me during the Mother's Day sermon. I had to wait for there is absolutely nothing else I can do besides wait for the Lord to reveal His plan. Maybe I need to say this again to myself: I had to wait. Since November, my life hardly stood still, and I kept asking myself: what do I do while waiting? Yet another question that involved me needing to compensate for the time I felt I was wasting. To move my life forward, faster toward my desired destination.

Rereading this verse, I question whether it was me who was waiting for the Lord or was it He who was waiting for me to stop getting in His way. Was He waiting for me to arrive at the place He needed me to be to understand that my life is not run by me, but by Him? That His plans and my plans are not the same? That my need to control everything in my life is futile when He will unfailingly show time and time again He is God and sovereign over all?

It was put upon my heart to run to God's people for help during this time. To meditate on His Word and serve His people. So I signed up for Children's Ministry at church and joined a Ladies' Breakfast Book Study for every other Saturday. I still feel a great need to control my life, but for the moment, most of the anxiety and stress has left my heart and I continually pray to understand what it looks to follow God's will. None of this is to say I  will never feel anxiety about my future again, but I am saying that right now, God is transforming me to be more like Jesus. He is encouraging me to pursue Him and His people in faith without knowing what is in store for my future. I feel like my eyes are shut and I'm being led by a friend whom I love and trust, but still question if I'll be led into a wall and break my nose or find myself ankle-deep in a muddy puddle. 

It's been a couple of weeks since God has revealed this truth to me and God opened an opportunity to serve on the Communications team at church. Amazing news and I am excited for glorifying God in my writing. For the mean time, I pray to be strong and take courage and wait for the Lord to reveal what He has in store.

Blessings,
Q.