These feet were made for...

I spent this weekend on the not so sunny shores of North Carolina...

With high expectations for a wonderful weekend on the coast, getting away from the winter storms of the midwest, to run in my second half marathon...I was suprised to find the temperature at the start of our race to be 18 degrees!!!! Despite the sound of it, the race ended up being great (thanks to the extra layers from the most important Wal-mart run of my life...note the matching attire on the lovely ladies who were with me in NC, that courtesy of the Walmart sales rack!!)

This great adventure was just the beginning of oodles of enjoyment with two wonderful women. Dueling piano bar with dirty santa, walks on the beach (not sure how anyone could hate the ocean), much needed afternoon coffee runs and great conversations all wrapped up a most excellent weekend.

A New Kind of Christmas

I enter this season each year and have to wonder what it is all about. The fast rush to the early morning sales of "Black Friday". Fighting in the aisles to be the first to get the "best gift". The marketing that has created the monsters that we have become.

What is it that we are fighting over...Playstation 3's, iPods, barbie dolls and board games. All of course necessities to the everyday life we live. REALLY?? Is this how selfish we have become?

Last night I was blessed with endless conversation with a man I greatly admire (my dad). At one point in the conversation he expressed feeling guilty for considering spending money this year by helping a family in need, rather than giving gifts to those he would usually spend his money on. He was afraid that this type of giving would devalue his relationships to those he loves most. Selah

Have we become so dissillusioned that our relationships depend upon the material things that we purchase for one another? Have we become so selfish that our material WANTS would drive a wedge in our relationships when another wants to provided a greater NEED for someone else? You've seen the comedies depicting the ungrateful recipients of a Christmas card baring the words "A gift of $50 was made in your name to Thus and Such Organization". I am not without guilt here, but wow...REALLY? Is this how we live? Have we devalues relationships to the point that material matters? Selah

This grieves me. It grieves me that I have been a partaker in it. It grieves me that we have minimalized relationships to what we can receive from others, rather than what we can give. It grieves me that we have become so hardened towards the NEEDS of others.

I say we, because I am a part of it...but I want something better. I want relationships dependent upon care demonstrated and love shown in ways we have been afraid of before. I want underpriviledged to see that they are not undervalued. I want love to be demonstrated in a profound way.

So this year, I propose a different kind of Christmas. With headlines of War and Poverty, AIDS and Desperation, rethink this Christmas season and make a difference. A difference that could stimulate a world of change. The kind that would put a smile on Jesus' face (this is his birthday and all). This year, take time to evaluate your usual Christmas spending, take time to evaluate those you value most. Take time to celebrate a different kind of Christmas.

"Then the King [Jesus] will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

~ Matthew 25:34-40 ~














Organizations to look into:
National

Local list and specific sites:
Harvesters
KC Rescue Mission
City Union Mission
Camp Barnabas
Hope House
Big Brothers Big Sisters
Habitat for Humanity

The one addiction we should all have

Last night, my fathers long time friend revealed his addiction on local television. Check it out. There is a full length story in the KC Star as well. I hope someday we all will of lived lives as inspiring as this. (His offical link is here)

Please be praying for Larry as he fights his battle with cancer.


More links to more great stories of this man
usatoday
review journal

Great places in KC...I love this city!!

Wide awake...to restless to read so I thought I would post some of my favorite photos around KC. The first few are in honor of the Stem Cell victory. Stowers will be proud.
















Stowers Institute for Medical Research

















Gift of Life Statue on Volker side of Stowers.



My Church (Jacob's Well) and one of the coolest people's (Phil Lesniewski -director of social justice minstry at JW) old school VW Bug





Loose Park, the rose graden is beautiful



Fountain at Mill Creek Park



Diversity. . . Homeless man kickin' it at the fountain



I think she might be an art student, same fountain

I LOVE THIS CITY

All in a days work (or two)

There is something liberating about knowing you are taking care of the environment. This week I worked hard and enjoyed the AMAZING 80 degree weather. Part of the work was to construct a compost pile (seen here - its also liberating to build things, not sure why...it just feels good). Today the work was complete and was well utilized after I cleared my yard of the piles of leaves that appeared to of snowed from heaven.

As I was working with the pile of waste, I was having all kinds of profound thoughts about how we see the “trashy” people of the world and just discard them. And how we could learn from the compost and the beauty of how waste can become something so nutritious and beneficial. Then I told myself to stop being so serious all the time. So I just enjoyed the day and its labors. But I will return to these thoughts. I will ponder how the weak and (thought to be) worthless are trampled under foot only to be discarded in the landfill of life. I will ponder the parallels of this compost and the beauty of that which can be created from those "trashy" lives. But for now, I enjoy the day...I enjoy my labors and the liberation of these works.

Work completed

Thought it was appropriate to include the completed version of the work in progress. Stacy is finished!! Heres the work
.

Work in Progress

Thanks to a friend, who challenged me to use my talents, I am working on a portrait for Face.Africa. Above are a few of my interpretations of Stacy a young orphan girl from Kenya. What a lofty idea...that I (a girl from Missouri) am going to creat an image of Stacy from a simple photo. This image, that she will eventually receive as her own, will first be her face here in the United States as this project grows/tours to educate and inspire American thoughts towards Africa. My work is to give a face to an orphan millions of miles away. I can't and won't do it justice, but will try my hardest.

As I have taken on this challenge I have realized a lot about myself and how I, too, am a work in progress. My insecurities are what would of held me back from taking on this task without the prompting of a friend. My fear that I am not good enough, not talented enough, not creative enough. Fears that others would be better, that I'm not an artist, that I haven't been trained. It's all nonsense, I know...but real. I was thinking yesterday about all the things that I want to do, all my lofty ideas and wondered what was holding me back. It boiled down to one main thing...fear of criticism/rejection/failure.

Today as I worked on my project at Broadway Cafe I was approached by my new friend Bill, a partially toothed man in threadbare, tattered clothes. He said to me "are you an artist?" I hestitated and responded with some sort of "I'm a nurse by profession, but enjoy art." Unable to claim myself as an artist for fear that I didn't live up to the name, I asked Bill if he did art. He responded proudly, "I am an artist." Claiming boldly the name that I hestitated to place on myself out of insecurity, was the man with nothing earthly to show for it. The irony struck me hard.

The whole of this reminded of a passage I read yesterday while relaxing with my new friend Anne Lamott and her book Traveling Mercies (see my last blog for the links) her raw honesty sums it up well:

We totally bombed. No wait, this is not actually the truth: I bombed. Grace was fine. Everyone agreed later that Grace was fine...If you are what you do - and I think my parents may have accidentally given me this idea - and you do poorly, what then? It's over; you're wiped out. All those prophecies you heard in the dark have come true, and people can see the real you, see what a schmendrick you are, what a fraud. Alone in my hotel room later that night, I felt stricken and lurky and dark...Out of nowhere I remembered something one of my priest friends had said once, that grace is having a commitment to - or at least an acceptance of - being ineffective and foolish. That our bottled charm is the main roadblock to drinking that clear cool glass of love.

Ahhh! So let the work continue...I AM an artist...drink up!

some great quotes

I have been reading Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott and been loving it. Thought I would share some of my favorite quotes so far....

It's funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools - friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty - and said, Do the best you can with these, they will have to do. And mostly, against all odds, they're enough. (pg. 103)

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. (pg. 143)

To Ally, E and Andy (my music lovin' friends...two of which are so appropriately sportin' iPods in their profile pics) you will appreciate this one most:
I can't imagine anything but music that could have brought about this alchemy. Maybe it's because music is about as physical as it gets: your essential rhythm is your heartbeat; your essential sound, the breath. We're walking temples of noise, and when you add tender hearts to this mix, it somehow lets us meet in places we couldn't get to any other way. (pg. 65)

E this one's for you!!

I must admit, all these pics are from last year, but I will be on the look out for some beautiful fall images I can capture for future posts. Love ya girl! Its a beautiful day for a run.

Lightin' up

Just had to add some cool images to lightin things up. Sorry too much intraspection and abstract thinking with Ally today. (I love you Ally and our deep disections of the world...I am very blessed by you. And someday, we will change the world, even if it is one little Mercy at a time.)

The Gift of Life

This week has surrounded me with reminders of the preciousness, yet delicateness of life. Yesterday I sat eating BBQ with my family at the Heart Transplant celebration picinic. Just last July '05 my father received a heart transplant that has restored him to health that he has not experienced in nearly 5 years.
I sat amidst nearly 100 others who also in the last 10 years have received the same life changing experience. The gratitude felt for life by many of the heart recepients was evident. Nevertheless, the celebration cannot go without the recognition and morning of the life lost inorder to make the others restoration possible. These thoughts are just a small portion of what has been added to a week long pondering of the constant enterchange of life and death.

This past week at work, at one point, I had to just sit back and take in all that was happening. The heaviness and realization of the nature of my work hit me all at once. As I sat to take it all in there was a family actively grieving the loss of their father. Not yet passed on, but actively dying after a decision was made to withdrawal lifesupport efforts. As this family grieved another was rejoicing the opportunity for new life. Another man had earlier heard that his long wait for a heart transplant was over because they had received a match (not from the previously mentioned man). Furthermore, the patient that I was taking care of was a 21 year old girl who just found out she has an incurable disease. After a week of tests hoping to find a cause to be treated we were at the end of the rope and must settle on the fact that she has primary pulmonary hypertension and probably 2 years to live. I just had to sit back and take in the reality that the cycle of life was presently spinning around me and I truly had no control over it.

I don't often think so deeply about the job that I do. It is easy to simply get clinical and so busy with the work that you are unable to really think about what is happening around you. This is probably good most of the time. But this complied with readings from The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis cause me to want to live a different kind of life. Lewis writes:
Consider too what undesirable deaths occur in wartime. Men are killed in places where they knew they might be killed and to which they go, if they are at all of the Enemy's [God] party, prepared. How much better for us if all humans died in costly nursing homes amid doctors who lid, nurses who lie, friends who lie, as we have trained them, promising life to teh dying, encouraging the belief that sickness excuses indulgence, and even, if our workers know their job, withholding all suggestion of a priest lest it should betray to the sick man his true condition.

Now you must understand that this segment is as though Screwtape (the devil or head demon) is instructing Wormwood (his nephew demon) on how to better distract or take captive a human in order to win him to "The Father Below".

OK... heavy stuff. Didn't mean to go so deep. But man does all this make me want to live a different kind of life. Please no shrivled up nursing home.

The Road Less Traveled

Who am I trying to prove myself to?

Do you ever wonder why you do the things you do? I have recently been reading much of the writings of Donald Miller (most recently in his book Searching for God Knows What) and loving his take on life and religion. He depicts an image of a Lifeboat, something he was challenged with early in life. The idea is this: Imagine there is a boat with 6 people in it, a lawyer, a doctor, a janitor, a teacher, a bank teller and a construction worker. Now add to the senario... the boat is sinking and only five can fit into the "Lifeboat" to be rescued. Who gets left behind? How is this type of decision made? How do we place value upon a person in deciding life or death?

Miller connects the thought process that might go on in ones head during this kind of decision to the thoughts and decisions we make daily as we try to live and survive the everyday. How often do you find yourself trying to prove yourself worthy to be heard? How often do you find yourself striving to prove you are right? Where does this come from? Why do we so inherently desire to find approval or validation from an external source? Miller explains that it is based upon our creation. We were created by a God who gives us purpose and validation through Him. We were created to be made complete by that connection with Him. However, there has been a separation, a divide placed that makes us feel so far from the eternal source of validation which we were created for. We long for that, but yet it feels far away. We yearn therefore we seek refuge in the approval of man. How do we regain the purity of our origin? How do we return to the source of our deepest needs? There is an answer and it lies within the redeeming power of God and His Son Jesus Christ. But, do we truly connect with Christ on a level that restores us to that original validation or do we still yearn for the approval of man to bring validation and satisfaction? I must admit in my visual, tactile, audible world it is hard to overcome the need to be validated by a source other than God. It is a struggle that will be continually faced this side of eternity. Maybe this is a result of the great divide or simply a consequence of my humanity, but, nevertheless I must admit that it is present.

Why do I share this with you today? I don't know. Maybe to share my heart, maybe to share my own struggles with life, or maybe to stir questions within your own heart. This is life and we were created by a source longing to love us and give us purpose through himself. Enjoy the ride.

Dignity

I often wonder if the dignity of man is based up that which we give or neglect to give to a person. When doing rotations for mental health as a nursing student a couple of years ago I remember sitting back, looking upon the clients we interacted with and wondering what if. What if these people had been loved from birth the way they were designed to be loved? What if abuse and neglect had never been a part of their lives? What if society could see people the way God sees them? What if we truly lived out the 2nd commandment "Love thy neighbor as thyself"? What if people lived with more dignity? Would this world be different?

I was reading an exerpt from Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller and was challenged to ponder the ability that we as humans have to create or project an image upon someone else. The exerpt reads:
I was on my way over Mount Hood to spend some time in the high desert with a few friends. I was driving alone and decided to stop in at Safeway to pick up some provisions for the weekend. While standing in line at the checkout counter, the lady in front of me pulled out food stamps to pay for her groceries. I had never seen food stamps before. They were more colorful than I imagined and looked more like money than stamps. It was obvious as she unfolded the currency that she, I, and the checkout girl were quite uncomfortable with the interaction. I wished there was something I could do. I wished I could pay for her groceries myself, but to do so would have been to cause a greater scene. The checkout girl quickly performed her job, signing and verifying a few documents, then filed the lady through the line. The woman never lifted her head as she organized her bags of groceries and set them into her cart. She walked away from the checkout stand in the sort of stiff movement a person uses when they know they are being watched.
On the drive over the mountain that afternoon, I realized that it was not the woman who should be pitied, it was me. Somehow I had come to believe that because a person is in need they are candidates for sympathy, not just charity. It was not that I wanted to buy her groceries, the goverment was already doing that. I wanted to buy her dignity. And yet, by judging her, I was the one taking her dignity away.

More simple pleasures

Reading Ally's post tonight at work reminded me of another simple pleasure I so quickly forget in life. The pleasure of friends, fall and walking. Saturday night not much was going on and Shea and I were at home. Shea had a movie in mind to watch, but there was a need to fill our stomachs first. Oddly on this occasion we were not craving the typical girls night items (chocolate, ice cream or chocolate ice cream) but on this particular night Hummus was the desire. We decided to walk and The Jerusalem Bakery was the destination. Thanks to the flip-flops Shea was wearing, the typical speed to my canter was mellowed. It was a blessing causing me to slow, to enjoy, to relax. Why I feel the need to move at such a pace even when there is not a deadline to meet I don't know, its ingrained. But I was forced to slow and I am grateful. The night was beautiful, the company even better. And the hummus spectacular. Props to peaceful nights.

Beer, BBQ And A Good Book

I never understood what a beautiful combination the three of these could be until tonight. The evening started with a small blessing...I didn't have to work after all. Thus began the brilliance of the evening. Quick jont to the store to pick up some Boulevard. Already had brauts and chicken at home. (You gotta take full advantage of a buring fire when you are a single women.) Start up the grill - ok so that wasn't as smooth as I would of liked. Finally, kick back, read, sip some Boulevard and smell the wonderful fragrance of the dinner you are soon to enjoy. The evening was perfect, temperature you could hardly feel and no breeze to flip the pages. So quickly I forget the simple things in life. Let this not be forgotten. :)

Is this the face of God?

Spending two weeks at Camp Barnabas challenged me and blessed me in many ways and I have many stories to share, but I will begin with this...a challenge I received from one of the doctors on site.

We as Americans place such value on external or physical beauty, yet know little of the depth of a person. This is not the Lords perspective.

"Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."

According to Mel Gibson in the making of The Passion, it was important to have an attractive Jesus in order to draw men to the film. But is that the most accurate demonstration of the man who actually walked the earth?

Reflect upon Isaiah 53: 2-4 (NASB)
"For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of parched ground; He has no stately form or majesty that we should look upon Him, nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him. He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrow and acquainted with grief; and like one from whom men hide their face. He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we ourselves exteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted."

**Pictured with me is my friend Justin a beautiful teenage boy with a disorder called Neurofibromytosis (NF). His face is disfigured by benign tumors from his diagnosis. He is one of the most beautiful people I have ever met. His heart is incredible and his laugh is contageous.

Clear Vision

Ok, another Camp Barnabas story, but this is brilliant. This picture was taken during my first week of camp. Alex pictured in the middle was a camper and he is blind. I acted as the nurse to his cabin and would round at night to give bedtime meds. The campers and counselors would often gather outside at a picinic table when I arrived. Peris (pictured on the right) was a volunteer counselor working with Alex. On one particular evening I had arrived at the cabin as Peris was leading Alex out. In guiding him she said, "watch out, Courtney is there, you'll need to go around." And his response (which is where the brilliance lies) was "Oh, you guys look a like." As Peris and I looked at one another with a smile we both said, "why do you think that?" "Oh, I guess you act alike or something" he responded. I could not help but say, "Alex you need to teach the world to see with your eyes."

So we must ask the question, does he have the disability or do we? It is often a question I must ask myself when I have the opportunity to work with blind children. I find myself wondering if my vision isn't a stumbling block to seeing the true hearts of those who surround me. Something to think on...

breathe

OK, so I must confess. I sit to write my first real post, in this new life as a blogger, and I was doing exactly that which I was blogging about. I was writing about simply breathing, letting go of the need to always be doing something, and in the effort to express that exact thing I was pushing hard to find some profound words to make my point. I was overwhelmed by the need to do something magnificant, but instead I choose to breath.

Today breath deeply
breathe in the breath of God
breathe out the control of man
breathe in the refreshment of faith
breathe out the reliance on self
breathe in trust of a Saviour
breathe out fears of dependence
breathe in the love of the Father
breathe out the lies of insecurities
breathe in the hope of tomorrow
breathe out the struggle for success
breathe in the knowledge that we are but dust
breathe out the pride of life
breathe in the life of God
breathe out the life of sin
breathe
simply breathe
Lord have mercy on me, when I breathe.

someone once told me...

Someone once told me I should blog my thought. I don't have much to say right now...