I love to cook. It's an act of worship.

I want to encourage.

I like a cool breeze before a storm whisking through the windows in summer.

I like listening to Bethel's spontaneous worship.

I'm cooking beef, yellow rice, and cauliflower. I'm leaving in four days and I'm trying to eat up what I have left. It's turning out to be a pretty nice meal. Wish I could share it.

The timer is ticking in rhythm with my music.

I despise the ice cream truck, I always have.

Life

This weekend, Geebs and I went to visit our friend Amber in North East Ohio.

My last day at Tim Horton's was Thursday. We went on our way out of town to buy a bag of coffee for Amber so I bought an iced cappuccino. My friends there made it a size bigger and added special topping. :)

about the stars.

About the stars in Mexico. Twice, at night, we drove hours. All the joynoise around me didn't matter. Just stars. Many nights we danced. Parties. The night the cruelty of how it isn't supposed to be was revealed to me. Geckos.

  We stared at the sky over that town, and You said to look-

  I stared out the window, we hurtled through dark Ohio, made a resolution.

  Laughing in the back of that taxi late at night, too dark to see anything but a thin line where the hills met the sky.

  My brother's birthday, the coldest night I didn't feel, for the stars.

  And when we danced, loud with the beats and quiet with our faces, in that small room in July. And leaving, late, the skylights shining bright.

About the sunset. Like afternoon goldsunshine on India's fields, but I'm driving to Kroger. 

  Certain days, the way the light shines in, reminds me. 

  Of India, Russia, the ocean.

About the beetles that crawl these yellow walls late at night.

  How do they know when to come out?

  Bugs in the beds and in the cracks in the floors.

About those songs.

  it trembles at Your voice.

  which the morning stars began.

  in Your presence.

  and my heart will sing. 

All those bugs, the way the light shines in. And then the stars, the songs, Your light.

Rain

I like rain.

It creates community between us.

We are the same; souls trying to escape the water. (or not escape, if you are me.)

When I smile at someone on the street, the smile is understood. "I don't have an umbrella either" I say with my eyes.

A man shares his umbrella with me, giving me dryness and also pushing himself out a bit so we are both half dry.

May they see that I have eyes for only You.

Maybe the shadows are safer.

Last night, I sat on the concrete ledge around a no longer flowing fountain. I was talking on the phone to my sisterfriend. I was talking about hard, meaningful things. And then a man drove by in his blue car and yelled something to me out the window. I didn’t hear exactly, but I think it was “what are you doing tonight?” Sir, I was wearing a raincoat, talking to my friend. What does it look like I’m doing tonight?

And then I walked home. I like walking in the shadows because no one can really see me, but as my eyes are adjusted, I can see others. As I was walking, a street light came on when I walked under it. It was annoying to me, because I like not being able to be seen. When I walk down brightly lit streets I am just as likely to be yelled at as when the street is dark.

The men who are disrespectful will be just as disrespectful in the daylight as they will be at night. The man who wants to yell from his car will yell regardless of whether I am walking in a well lit place or not. It is “harmless,” after all, yelling from his car, he thinks. So I would rather not be seen. I would rather walk in my dark clothes through the shadows that are dark at night, than walk through a well-lit parking lot.

“The parking lot is well-lit,” she said, the real estate agent, trying to convince my friend to rent the apartment. Well, that’s fine and dandy trying to get groceries out of the car or unbuckling a seatbelt, but simply walking? Eh, my favorite sort of walking is done in woods, not so many streetlights there.

Oy. I’d just rather not be yelled at when I’m walking, no matter the hour of the day, no matter where I am, okay? cool.

Today I was given word gifts.

I am bold.
I am real.

Next on the list, I want to be hospitable. Probably no one will notice this one though, because I want to be the type of hospitable that makes Americans squirm.

Come in, sit down, let me make you tea.
Here, eat this apricot I bought at the grocery store today. Isn't its color pretty? I want to share it with you.