It’s been a while since I did anything on the non-blog portion of this website–until today that is. I now officially unveil an updated version 6 book review page and two brand new book reviews.
Check out what I have to say about Diane E. Levin and Jean Kilbourne’s So Sexy, So Soon and about Renee Loux’s Easy Green Living.
For the past several days, I’ve had a song stuck in my head. It goes something like this:
///Si tienes problemas, dile todo a el///
Cristo esta en la linea hoy
///Llamale, llamale, dile todo a el///
Cristo esta en la linea hoy
Rebekah and I spent a fair bit of time singing that song. She was teaching me some Spanish songs out of the old rancho songbook “Alabanzos el Rey.” It’s easy to learn and easy to get stuck in your head.
“///If you have problems, give them all to Him///
Jesus is the way today
///Speak to Him, Speak to Him, Give them all to Him///
Jesus is the way today
I went on a walk with John and Casandra this evening. It made me miss Mexico. I miss looking up and seeing the Milky Way every night. I miss Rebekah. I was remembering the walk we all took late one night. Elizabeth and Luis were walking the track as well, but it was mostly just Rebekah and Tonio and I.
It was dark and there weren’t streetlights like we have here. It was truly dark, real dark that you can almost taste. Rebekah and I were walking along hand in hand when Tonio jumped at us out of the brush in the center of the track. I was too surprised to react, but Rebekah jumped and squeezed my hand tighter. We all three walked on together–and Tonio decided to tell stories to pass the time. Of course, it was all in Spanish. The stories lost something in translation I think, but Rebekah (who was translating for me) was obviously getting a bit frightened. She might have been just starting to relax her grip when he got to another scary part, then she’d grab hold of my hand again.
I startled them a bit that night–singing and dancing in the dark. I can’t help it that I felt so free, so alive walking around that darkened track.
I miss it. It took me a while to get really Mexico home-sick, but it’s setting in now. I miss singing with Rebekah in the schoolroom. I miss family devotions and prayer time. I miss Tonio. I miss homemade tortillas. I miss the sky and the air. I miss the boys from the rehabilitation center. I miss hearing Spanish all the time.
My experience in Mexico seems to have faded into the background as I’ve dived back in to grad school and work. Nothing “momentous” occurred in Mexico. Just lots of moments–moment after moment. Talking with Rebekah in the schoolroom. Trusting God for how to teach. Flirting with Berto (just the tiniest bit). Getting ice cream at the plaza when I had no idea what I was buying. Trying out my Spanish on some unsuspecting person. Teaching and being translated. Hugs and “hermanas”. The heat of the day and the cool of the night. Tunas from the peddler that goes door to door. Visitors daily, new people to meet. Girl talk. Dressing up to go out on the town.
I miss those moments. I miss Mexico. Maybe someday, I’ll go back.
Apparently my clothing is an issue for certain women in our congregation. Unfortunately, they don’t tell me themselves, so I can’t really correct the situation.
I thought it somewhat unusual, but didn’t think much on it when the first words out of her mouth when I opened the door were “Oh, you’re still wearing that dress.” The comment registered as odd–I almost never change out of my church clothes on Sunday–but since I sometimes don’t know what to make of her, I just smiled.
Then as I was hustling everyone out the door so I could get to my study session, I commented that I was a bit overdressed for a study group. Mom concurred and asked some of the other ladies if they’d wear my dress to a study group. When she got to the one woman, she said “Of course, you wouldn’t wear that dress for anything.”
The lightbulb clicked on. Apparently, she had a problem with my dress. And apparently she vented it to my mom (and probably my dad and all my siblings, as well as her own children) on the way home from church.
Unfortunately, the one person she failed to talk to about it was me. So I have no idea what she found objectionable about my outfit and whether her complaint was valid. Since she still has a hard time putting off her scarves, I don’t have any guarantee that she isn’t just reacting out of the Islamic culture she’s still coming out of. But I don’t know for sure because she didn’t talk to me about it.
Was it that the dress was sleeveless? Or maybe the back was too low for her taste. Maybe she didn’t like that it was knee length. Maybe she doesn’t like the fact that I have curves, and nothing short of wearing a bag (which she does but I’m certainly not inclined to) could conceal them. Maybe she doesn’t like the color red. Or maybe it was a really legitimate complaint. Maybe you could see straight through the skirt because I wasn’t wearing a slip with it. Maybe my bra straps were showing in the back and it looked awful. But I don’t know if it was any of those things–or something else entirely–because she didn’t talk to me about it.
I’ve had this happen before, where someone complained to my mom about my clothing. Mom mentioned it to me later. That “correction” was hard to submit to because I was so hurt that this woman, with whom I have a fairly good relationship, would go to my mom instead of me with a complaint about my clothing. At least I know that she spoke to Mom about it privately.
This time, I’m not sure what to do. Do I ask Mom to clarify? Do I ignore the criticism since she didn’t come to me about it? Do I ask my brothers about what they heard? Or maybe I should ask my Dad. Do I seek to deal with whatever she had a problem with in the name of “not putting a stumbling block in a sister’s way”? Or should I even bother trying not to offend someone who’s gossipping about my clothes to my family behind my back?
Please, if you ever have an issue with my clothes–or anything else concerning me–come to ME. I can’t promise that I’ll immediately agree with what you say, that my pride won’t rise up and make me try to defend myself. But I can promise you that I’ll consider your correction, and pray about it, and attempt to work on it. I did when a sister mentioned her concerns about my inattentiveness while driving. I did when a brother pointed out that I was filling my plate too full. I want to grow, I want to receive rebuke. Just please, talk to ME.
Sometimes I get so busy that I lose my vision. That’s when I find myself thrashing around wildly trying to accomplish something, only to realize that I really haven’t accomplished anything.
My vision is to glorify God by growing in daily relationship with Him, being conformed to the image of Christ; by growing in relationship with others, taking time to invest in their lives; and by growing as an individual, always learning and practicing what I’ve learned.
In summary, my vision is to Glorify God. My mission is to grow. My roles are to an image bearer, an ambassador, and a steward.
Growth (my mission) requires TIME and TRANSFORMATION. I must take time with God, cultivating conversation with Him–and I must be transformed through emulation and obedience. I must take time with others, cultivating heart to heart friendships–and I must be transformed through sharpening and being sharpened. I must take time for myself, cultivating my body, mind, and soul–and I must be transformed as I put into practice what I’ve learned and know to do.
I am an image-bearer.
“For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.” (Romans 8:29)
I am an ambassador.
“We are therfore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf. Be reconciled to God.” (2 Corinthians 5:20)
I am a steward.
“Moreover it is required in stewards that one be found faithful.” (I Corinthians 4:2)
Words stuck in the front of my notebook. Vision I lost sight of. I’m waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light. My heart yearns for the goal, but in the dark I’ve built obstacles to achieving that vision.
I slowly pick my way through the labyrinth. Glorify God. Grow. Image bearer, ambassador, steward. Fix my eyes on the vision. I see. Lord, shed light on my path.
I’m thankful–that some days I actually can get something accomplished!
Other than that, I’m thankful for (in no particular order):
We received our internship assignments today. I, as student “G”, was assigned to Community Nutrition at the Health Department first, then to Management at Bryan East, then to Clinical at Madonna. I didn’t have any specific places I really wanted to go and I didn’t have any problems with where I’d been assigned, so I smiled, nodded, and didn’t think much of it. Then Dr. K said “I’ve assigned Rebekah and Zainab to Madonna because they’re going to be really busy with getting all the state and federal paperwork ready and all that, so they really need highly-motivated self-starters with some experience. They’re pretty much going to train you a couple of weeks and then for the rest of the rotation, you’ll just handle a normal caseload. So I thought Zainab and Rebekah would be good matches for that facility.”
I was certainly honored to be thus singled (doubled?) out among my peers, but what gave her the impression that I’m that good? I haven’t had a lot of interaction with Dr. K so far–I wasn’t a PeerNet student and I’m not one of her advisees. I met her twice before entering the program but didn’t really talk with her much. And even now, all she’s really seen of me is at our weekly meetings (and I don’t really feel that I’ve put forth my best side at those either.) So what makes her think that I’ll be qualified for such a thing?
Did I misrepresent myself somewhere on my application for the internship? Or maybe one of my references said more about me than I would say for myself. Or did my lengthy resume give the impression that I’m more experienced than I really am? I don’t know.
It’s not that I don’t think I can do it. I’ll study hard this semester and rise to the occasion. I’ll make Dr. K and the program proud. But why should I somehow be more qualified or experienced to jump into independent work in clinical dietetics than the rest of my classmates? That’s what I’m not sure about.
Well, one way or another, I have been chosen. So now, I have the opportunity to rise to the challenge. I now have even more impetus to practice my enteral and TPN calculations, to learn and memorize those lab values, to develop effective reference materials for myself. I have a reason (or more of a reason) to practice going through the nutrition care process and charting material. I now have even more of a reason to learn to speak (and read and write) medical terminology as second nature. Because I’m going to prove that I AM the woman for the job.
I think I might qualify as an environmentalist. I am very concerned about my impact on the environment. I care about what kind of earth I leave to the generations behind me. I believe, as C.S. Lewis suggested, that expectation for a better world (heaven) should make me even more inclined to make a difference in this one.
To this end, I do my best to work towards eco-friendliness. I’ve made myself some shopping bags and take them with me faithfully. Paper or plastic? I go with cloth. I don’t even use their bags to put my produce or bulk items in–I bring in my own heavy duty bags (recycled from work.) I recycle everything I can–and if I can’t recycle it at the city recycling center, I find a way to reuse it at home (or to not buy it at all.) I use every bit of white space in my paper before sticking it in a bag to recycle it.
I make my own laundry soap and clean almost anything with vinegar. I’ve pretty much eliminated “paper products” from my life. I use cloth napkins, hankies, and pads. I hibernate or turn off my computer when I leave the room. I keep my shades down during the bright summer afternoons to keep from using extra energy to keep the house cool. I finally got a blanket for my hot water heater (woo-hoo!) My worms for vermiculture should arrive in the mail any day now.
I buy used instead of new, I give away instead of throwing away. I don’t buy if I don’t need. I grab the paper that would otherwise be thrown away at work to use as scratch paper. I think I probably qualify as a bona-fide green do-gooder. Or if not bona-fide, I’m at least a pretty good wanna-be.
But what I don’t do, and don’t think I’ll ever do, is vote on the basis of environmentalism. Because what I’ve seen of political environmentalism is basically the lefts version of “legislating morality”. They think that if they just make all sorts of laws protecting the environment and punishing or forbidding its desecration, that somehow that’ll make a difference. And maybe it will. But at what cost? At the cost of people’s liberties? At the cost of our economy? At the cost of an even more massive bureaucratic government?
I have the unfortunate luck to be someone who cares about what the left has co-opted as “liberal issues.” Environmentalism, women’s rights, public health, education–those are some of my concerns. I just don’t agree with the lefts way of going about those issues. Politically, I do more than lean to the right–I believe in limited goverment, fiscal conservativism, local control, strong foreign policy, and that America has both the privelege and responsibility to act as a force for freedom in the world.
So I find myself stuck in the middle of a sad little fight. The environmental blogs that I read and enjoy are up in arms about this coming election, and so am I–on the other side.
I enjoy the tips on green living–I enjoy sharing commonalities with people who also vermicompost and deal with people’s funny looks at their homemade shopping bags. I just don’t enjoy people bashing my candidate on one point (environmentalism) and then accusing conservatives of being “one issue voters.” I listed my political values a couple of paragraphs up–do those look like single issue topics?
–So at this point, I’m just ranting. Or maybe I have been all along. But come on, guys, give me a break–just because environmentalism isn’t my political litmus test doesn’t mean I’m a hard-nosed, knock-down-the-little-guys and pollute-the-water-system junky (or the Devil incarnate). I’m a citizen who cares about a deep variety of issues (that people across the political spectrum care about) and votes accordingly. So please, calm down and let me weigh EVERYTHING–instead of just your ONE hot-button issue.
I’ve decided that the antidote for covetousness is gratefulness. Which is why I’ve been listing my blessings on a pretty regular basis these days.
Today, I’m thankful for lovely, inexpensive vintage dresses in double knit.
I’m thankful for perfectly formed free green apples from my parents’ tree.
I’m thankful for a short-term roommate who did the dishes when I’ve been too lazy (or too busy) to do them for a week.
I’m thankful for my landlady’s husband who came and replaced our doorknob, the very next day after I called.
What are you thankful for?
I have a thousand things I’ve wanted to tell you–but not in blog form. I wanted to write them in nice, polished article form, with references and everything. I wanted to include good meta descriptors of them on each page so that people doing Google searches could find them. I wanted to make them nice and fancy and search engine friendly (like my population control article).
Unfortunately, time doesn’t exactly grow on trees and I’m spending most of my time either a) planning a health program for the Airpark population using the Precede-Proceed model of development or b) writing a proposal for some original research on the perceptions and motivators for consumption of caffeinated beverages by college students or c) polishing up my rusty memory of parenteral calculations or D) reading other people’s blogs in order to avoid studying for what I am sure is going to be a KILLER Food Chemistry test. Have I mentioned that it’s been a year and a half since I last took a science class, and three years since I took my last chemistry class? Argh!
So, I suppose someday I’ll get around to explaining why some meats develop off flavors after you’ve had them in the freezer for too long (It’s a fun food chemistry explanation). And someday I’ll get around to discussing the science behind High Fructose Corn Syrup (and why it isn’t really that bad for you–at least, not much “badder” than your average sugar.) And someday I’ll describe how I learned the hard way that Mom was right about not stacking dishes in the sink. And someday I’ll tell you why I’m about ready to stop shopping at Walmart. And someday I’ll tell you about my almost-crush on my Health Program Planning prof (all except for his politics, and well, a lot of things). And someday I’m going to tell you about my closet recycling, dumpster-diving ways. And someday I’m going to write another “Bible on environmental issues” study. For that matter, someday I’m going to write a family history and a site map.
But for today, I’ll just quickly list the stuff I intend to write so that someday, I’ll look back on all my unfinished ideas and sigh.
*Sigh*
Somewhere amidst my long list of life goals is the line “Learn how to cut hair.” Tonight I have made my first step towards accomplishing that goal. I’ve been afraid to pick up the scissors again after cutting John’s ear when he asked me to cut his hair when he was a pre-teen (I should have known better–he’s too squirrelly to sit still for a hair cut) and have only given buzz cuts since that day. Until today, that is.
Today I gave Timothy a haircut–a normal crew that was mostly accomplished with the buzzer. It’s a small step, I know, towards being able to REALLY cut hair. But think of it this way: Should I have sons, knowing how to do a basic crew cut will allow me to cut their hair at home through age 12 or so at least, saving quite a few bucks in the process. And that’s why I want to learn anyway–so I won’t have to pay someone else to cut my kids’ hair.
Check it out:
