The Numbers Don't Add Up

So I'd like to start off by dedicating this post to number enthusiasts. Yes revel, math geeks, revel in your moment of glorified attention.

In the last four days, on average, I have worked precisely double the time I have slept. That's good because if I hadn't had the last two days to balance things out it would be triple.
I estimate that on average I have eaten 100 raisins per day in the last four.
In only the last two days I have eaten an average of 1/3 a watermelon per day.

OK I'm bored of that game.

As I mentioned I've been working what used to be standard summer hours, and I'm not minding it. Sunny and twenties - fresh air, joisting a floor or building walls, Sherry's in BC, who wouldn't?
Now this could be important because I've decided I WILL be set up to record music this September.
First I need to consult a techie/musician and tell them what I want to do, then I need to go shopping. And if it's required, I will buy it. I will not back down from a Mac purchase if that is what is required. I will not cringe at the heart-stopping price difference of a laptop over a desktop if that's what must be. I will slave away building houses until I can make music.
There is much more to take into consideration than just what can I buy - such as how will I actually learn how to use these purchases?
Tutorials!
I've done them, I've loved them, I will find them again.
So I'd like to announce that I'm going back to school.
I am a student once more.
And the first thing I'll have to learn is how to fight to protect this.
And memories return.
Memories of telling Andrew Gingrich I need to quit guitar lessons because I'm failing miserably at practicing daily and I'm just wasting his time - but he encouraged me and I kept going and got so so so much further.
Memories of explaining my dream of becoming a professional musician to Andrew and how God had called me to quit my job and live off my school savings. Asking him so many questions. How did it jive with his marriage? - with his relationship with God?
And he had good answers.
And I'm not saying I'm going there. I still don't have any intention of being a professional musician. That still feels cruel. Kyle asked me about that the other night. He wanted to make sure I wasn't intent on becoming an artist for money because he doesn't like having starving friends. Lucky for him I don't like starving.

Oh by the way Mute Math is coming to Calgary in September! Go buy tickets!

More memories. I remember having coffee or something along those lines with Kelly Grant and he was talking about someone else but he might as well have been talking about me (hmm kind of like a conversation I had with Sherry where I was talking about me but she took it all aimed at her). "He's got all these passions - he just needs to figure out a way of making money with them"
My passions don't make money. Only people who double as clever salesmen or find one to exploit them get to do that.
And I suppose if I was just concerned with me I would go find a more suitable job to pay bills while I do something I care about. I could be a postman! But instead I'm a funny sort of missionary and I won't apologize for that.

Have I ever told you about how I like people who talk about going on all sorts of adventures all the time?
RJ is one such person. He would go on Mediterranean trips every year all over the world (yes I know the Mediterranean isn't moving around - it was a figure of speech) if he had his way. He would go pray for Malta for a month if he had been the one talking to Marty instead of me. He could have unlimited time off work and adjustable and hence dispensable hours at work to serve his whims, and he would have independently wealthy friends who have large investments with interest and dividends that are partially donated to people who could creatively spend them. Or just spend them. I mean there's always people asking you to go out to movies and dinner and you have to be social right? And there's always stores with clothes that would make you look nice and you can't go around naked right? And hey you're being given money by generous people, you can't just go around being selfish either, so you'd best be covering people around you for such things too.

So all of that sounded just like a rant by someone who hates spending money and is careful about it. But I'm not, and no, the numbers don't add up. So RJ came up with the idea of giving ourselves monthly allowances. I'm sure I spent quadruple mine.

Timing kills me too. I haven't even been to the Farmer's Market this summer. I want to have a salsa-making party. I haven't touched the book I started reading in weeks. But hey, I need to go rock-climbing and hiking and camping and biking and rafting and volunteering and dancing and family-visiting and writing and tennis-playing and trampolining and do-I-have-to-I-suppose-it-feels-better-if-I-do sleeping, and choring, and chore shirking, and right now I have to go fold laundry before I get some sleep before I wake up, go grocery shopping, and spend all day at Nathan & Lauren's to help them out with their film, then go get some more sleep, before I pack for BC, then go pick up Faye and head out to hang out with my Grandparents (and interview them - mostly because I want to - but should this continue, could be the beginnings of a book idea I have) before coming home to sleep again before going to work and then coming home, showering and leaving with Pam for BC to hang out with Sherry at her family's for a week - where there will be, if my guessing is any good, laking and cooking and friend-meeting and praying and story-telling, and joking, and fish-gutting/freezing/packing and lots of breathing, mmmm, breathing, because I won't be home, I can't find me, I can't guilt me or tire me or busy me and there will be a fabulous girl there who is really really good at making me breathe (well except for when she's making me catch my breath).
And don't feel the need to read into this because it's overly dramatic and really I'm just sitting here tired, not stressed, or frustrated. Goodnight.

Taking Some Space

Hello, it's Sunday afternoon. The sun is shining and if you asked me how I am, I'd probably tell you good. I've just run out of anything to give. It will come back, but for now I've gone into hiding because the thought of most people's voices is daunting. If I'm smart, and I'm going to fight to be, I'll go to bed at 9:00. If I was smarter I'd stay home all afternoon hiding and not even think about going over to my parent's house for dinner. We have lots of people over from church which would normally be exciting and delightful, but sadly I just couldn't handle that right now. Thankfully they're in the front yard or somewhere - I don't know - but it's quiet in my room.

Kevin and Angela were married yesterday. It was glorious. It was hard to get rid of the smile on my face all day. God was definitely not playing hide and seek - it's always fun when he's close and loud and won't go away. Yes he still got me to cry a little.

Now I suppose I could write a very lengthy entry about the whole thing - but I'm tired and before I forget things, I want to try and write about the prayer that happened at the conclusion of the evening.

Now for some reason I think there was 3 passages involved and I can only remember 2 which is unfortunate at the moment.

But between Andy, RJ, Sherry, Pam, Kirk - we should be able to remember more.

But here you go:

Psalm 144:1 (Whole Chapter)
[ [A Psalm] of David. ] BLESSED BE the Lord, my Rock and my keen and firm Strength, Who teaches my hands to war and my fingers to fight--

Proverbs 18:21:
Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.

Now I don't actually remember what was said about my hands of war - except that studying passages today (there's two more) it suddenly connected back to previous words about prophetic music.

The death and life in the power of the tongue has been a recurring theme in my life so long that I probably don't even notice it as having unique ramifications for me. God frequently prompts me to say prayers out loud. God frequently chides me when my mouth is used to curse (because it is frequently used that way) - because my tongue has power and I am responsible for what I do with it.
I am very conscious of what I say and what is said at all by anyone - which is why I have such a good memory for conversations. It's why lyrics in music are so important to me. It's why I pause and search for words when you ask me how my day was (last Monday for example was unmotivated and arduous). It's why I'm particular about accuracy in retelling of stories. I've done studies and studies and studies all my life, on my own, about blessings and curses - about speaking and the tongue - about encouragement and building up.

Anyway there was more. There was a picture of me painting a very large canvas. And every time I splashed more colour on it (did you notice that - colour - God made me LOVE colour - sorry) what I painted came to life. Now my paintbrush was my tongue, my words.

Also, the frame for this painting was the body of Christ, the church. And it was broken, separated. As I painted it, it came together. Now the size of this frame was large enough to represent a nation, my nation, Canada.

FAMILY was a word and it was a big one. Hence the capitals. God has heard my prayers. There will be household salvation (Sweet!!!!)

Work - God put me there for a purpose but I won't be there any longer than 2 years. He will be phasing out my role. (Hallelujah! I really need to continue to pray and trust God with that because I ran so far with that one in a few seconds it was crazy)

I am a source of strength for many but I need to remain filled by God to continue in that (I know what you're thinking: duh... but obviously there was a reason God said that so don't mock him).

And that's all I can remember for the moment.
As for other people, I remember lots of things for them, and Sherry in particular I received specific things for and need to do some reading, studying and praying.

Church was great this morning. Oh how I'd missed worshiping with a drum set (some day I'll play drums - just you wait) and very quickly discerned that God was eager for a little dance action and I tried to tell him that I didn't have any moves and maybe he should wait until I learn some but he very swiftly responded with a reminder to be faithful with small things or there will be no learning bigger things, so I got out and enjoyed it. My history with dancing came back to me while out there. Going to camp and singing music that you just can't stand still for - lots of jumping around. Going to rock concerts and getting in the pit. Taking guitar lessons and coming home with the groove of the music lodged in my brain and dancing about in the kitchen. Kyle giving me a funk mix CD and having post Christmas dinner silliness with my sisters in the kitchen. Going to Converge and God steadily prompting me to burst out in some rather chaotic movement. Having dance parties at RJ's. House-sitting for people who have big, slippery, wooden floors. So many times, prayer becomes action for me. And dancing has mostly been that way. It's a tie to the music and my spirit, and more importantly God's spirit.

Anyways, as much as I wish (for all things) that I'm getting better, and am not, I still enjoy moving during worship (and still observe the unchanging and predictable song dynamic of certain people - but whatever).

So let's remember this - I still have TWO rock star drinks in collection now that have been sitting and sitting and sitting for more than 2 years now waiting for me to do a concert.

7 Minutes To Write

Then it's midnight.

So today I got rather stressed, well, not the rather, but stressed, about all the prep I have to do for camping this weekend and all the obstacles in the way. To relieve this, I have friends, who will help me, by getting me to stay up late and watch Hot Fuzz (and give me a meal itinerary and loan me camping supplies). And hmmm, five minutes to talk as fast as I can when I haven't blogged in ages and all you're going to get is rubbish. How about this. Jason, thanks for the use of your ipod, I finally used it today, driving home, because I finally got a cord to hook it into my car. I had hoped the cord would also allow me to listen to it at work this week while Kyle is gone but no such luck the aux input on the stereo is stupid. The drive home was great, just on shuffle and hearing songs I haven't in a very long time and couldn't predict. PAX 217 was my favourite surprise, the Ipod's favourite was Guardian since they played them twice.
I read Psalm 119 last night. Well actually I didn't finish. I didn't intend to ready very much at all but it kept me going with all its goodness. I read it in the amplified version at work and it wasn't the same - so much tediousness with all the extra details that it lost all the flow and heart, but there were some very interesting things that I noted of significance. "Observe" as in 'observe the law' means so much more, and even "the law" in some situations in the text is meant to be taken as the entire will of God that has been revealed. Which is very personal right now because I have quite a long list of things I know God's revealed to me, and that is almost worth celebrating considering just a very short while ago I stopped eating for a little bit wanting very much to hear him speak. I must be hearing him speak at least a little bit more if I'm picking up on his will. And the grandish part is that it would be a terrible way to measure it anyway because so much more is for other people.
12:02 I'm already late by two minutes.
God bless.
Oh and I've loved - and I mean LOVED reading this last little while too. I've started two (and finished one) books that have both been so much fun reading. Not only are they 'grave' (the french word for gravity that means deep/serious-without the not-fun connotation - because they're definitely fun) but they're so cleverly written. It makes me remember what I enjoy about creative writing. So if you have the chance I recommend It's All Downhill From Here (or something like that) by Andrew Schwab - the vocalist of Project 86, and some new novel by Randy Alcorn, who still includes his little snippits of heaven, but at least so far they've been short and infrequent. Why don't I like them? Well I suppose they convey truths or whatever about it but they're so TERRIBLY dry like cardboard. God has such a flat personality as do everyone else - ugh! Anyway, I'm impressed that the main character is an alcoholic, and I'm impressed with all the infectious writing tone - it makes me wonder how he disconnects. Whatever, I'm writing for myself right now since you won't have a clue what I'm talking about and I'm not explaining it well. 12:08 AM goodnight