e⋅piph⋅a⋅ny

My Name. His name.

2010-07-30T09:47:00.000-07:00

When I meet most people, they assume that I am named after a city on the California coastline that shares my name, but I'm not. Here's the story of my name: (Which I may have told before in greater detail, but I cannot for the life of me remember.)

There is a long tradition of first born girls in my family being named with the first initial C and June as our middle name. My grandmother is Carol June and my mother is Celeste June and as you already know I am Cambria June.

My mother being the unique, artistic woman that she is was always in search for a unique "C" name.

When my parents were dating they went to a little art expo somewhere. There they saw a painting of an artist that they cannot remember. They say it was of a little girl in a field of wildflowers and it was called "Cambria". They decided that if they ever had a girl, that would be her name. They said I came out, they took one look at me and then at each other and said this is our Cambria.

I had a unique name before it was cool and celebs were doing it. What I resented soon became a part of my identity.

Recently my name has begun to become more popular. I've heard of 3 babies in the last few months named Cambria. What I didn't expect was for it to rock my identity. So much of my identity is wrapped up in being unique, original, like my name. My name made me feel like their was no one else like me and I liked that.

As chance, or probably something more would have it, I'm going through a study on the names of God right now by Kay Aruthur. I'm learning about all of God's names. How they represent Him and how we for centuries have tarnished His name. I'm shocked by how commonplace His name, that once was so reverent has become.

I've come to realize something. His name doesn't shape Him. Who He is calls out behind His name and gives it it's meaning. His name is good because He is good. Therefore, my identity is not wrapped up in a name and the child I someday have is not going to be unique or original or wonderful or horrible because of his/her name. Their character will determine the value of their name. It's meaning. It's relevance. It's significance. That's why when people who don't know who Christ is use His name it's often in a derogatory context, because they don't know of whom they are speaking. When I forget who He is His name, His power, isn't evident to me.

Instead of letting my name guide me, I'm going to choose to give meaning to it by working on the person behind it. By building a character that gives it meaning and significance and hope that through that practice, I reflect His name to those who don't know how good it really is.

42 minutes

2010-07-01T20:43:00.000-07:00

It's only been 42 minutes since I've been on vacation and already my mind is more clear. I am more relaxed and I'm connecting more to whichever side of my brain is creative. (I always forget which one does what.)

In these 42 minutes I've come to realize that I love my job. When I'm stressed or close to burnout, I forget just how much. I continue to work hard, but sometimes it becomes more labor than love. I know I love my job because I am already feeling like I'm going to miss it for the next week. I am going to miss calling strangers to talk to them about Jesus. I am going to miss hearing the stories of what random people ask at a church office. (My favorite this week was a guy who left a message on the counseling center voicemail and then when I called him back didn't remember calling me at all and freaked out.) I'm going to miss my cube buddies. I'm going to miss my boss. I'm going to miss watching my amazing volunteers make people feel like they belong at our church.

I feel privileged to get to do what I do. Though I doubt my calling, or rather, my deserving of my calling every day; I know I am exactly, precisely, where God wants me to be.

In case you were wondering Well Church, absence does make the heart grow fonder.

Vacation

2010-06-28T11:37:00.000-07:00

I've been a little creatively stunted. Solution: Vacation next week. Expect to hear more soon. If I posted right now I promise it'd be real, real boring.

The Space You Leave

2010-06-24T14:38:00.000-07:00

I step.

As if I walk.

I breathe.

as if the air is there.

Ever present your space remains.

it sings till it echos in my mind.

the hope of you hidden in my heart.

You're here

In what's left, in what's lost

and I never want to set it right.

calling to me:

my arms, my heart

it's only here that I am home.

-For my dear friends,

Thinking of you. Remembering him.

Caffeine FREE

2010-05-16T17:33:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe, but for over a month now, I've been caffeine free. What brought on this life altering change? Great question. A plethora of things I suppose, but mostly, getting into a "discussion" with my boyfriend.

We make it a habit to lightly tease each other about our vices. About a month ago, I was giving him a hard time about one of his, to which he responded, "I will as soon as you give up caffeine". I emphatically insisted I could give up caffeine if I wanted to and challenged him to bet me. He refused, but I took it as a challenge none the less. Immature? Maybe. But you're a stupid, butthead if you think so.

What started off as something ridiculous became something real for me. Brad Bell, my boss and pastor of our church, challenged our staff to make sure we were taking a Sabbath after a recent visit to Israel. As he was speaking to us I realized, I don't even know when my body needs rest. For so long I have joked about my coffee, pepsi, and in general caffeine addiction that I didn't think about how I was medicating my body. I didn't think about how I was interfering with my body telling me when I needed rest. Instead, I just kept telling it to go, and go, and go. Suddenly, this ridiculous challenge became something more profound. I decided I wanted to listen to my body. When I did, it started telling me a couple other things:

1. you never work out anymore and I don't like it

2. it hurts when you eat Mc Donald's (even though it is disgustingly awesome)

3. I'M REALLY F'IN TIRED.

I had once again fallen into a familiar cycle of overcommitting and ignoring what I need to stay healthy. What I joked away was actually a symptom of a bigger issue.

Since then, I have been eating healthier (not like crazy healthy, but I've been staying away from the golden arches and started paying attention to what I put in my body). I'm not going to lie to you, at first it sucked. Like those first few days I was off caffeine were horrible and I hope if I get Alzheimer's some day I won't remember them. Though I probably will, because Alzheimer's seems like one of those horrible things where you forget the people you love, but remember that one time you fell on your butt at a football game in high school.

My sacrifice has been incredibly worth it. A month in I can tell you, I miss pepsi sometimes when I'm at a mexican restaurant, but really it's not worth it because I feel so much better. I have more sustained energy. I have less headaches. I'm sleeping better than I have in a long time. In general, my body is beginning to function like it was intended to. Which gives me more energy to pour into the things and people I love. Like for reals, this is the business.

Caffeine free is the way to be.

-Cam

A Rose by Any Other Name

2010-04-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

I’ve lived most of my life in Fresno, Ca, in fact, I’ve lived most of my life on the same square block. It’s a sad fact for me to admit, but it’s the truth. I say it’s because my family is here, and that is a big reason. I say it’s because it’s so cheap to live here, and that doesn’t hurt. I say I’ve tried to get out and it keeps drawing me back, and on some level that’s true, but the reality is, it’s comfortable.

Everything about Fresno is built for comfort. No matter where you are in town you are two miles from a Target. There are a total of 5 in the city. No matter where you go in the city you are 1.5 miles from a Starbucks (give or take). Most of which you don’t have to leave the comfort of your car to enjoy. Everything about this city is built for two things: comfort and convenience. While those things are nice and have a certain appeal, lately I’ve been thinking, Is that really all there is? Is that really the goal of a city or a group of people? Of life? Comfort and convenience.

I refuse to be one of those people that lives in Fresno and bags on it like crazy, but I can also put aside my idealistic tendencies and look at it honestly. Fresno doesn’t have the greatest rep. Though there are tiny portions that are lovely, for the most part it’s a box ville of chain stores. Chain stores I’m embarrassed to admit, that I adore. ( As you know I love me some TJ Maxx.) However, there is a downfall to all this comfort and convenience. Comfort and convenience almost always produce mediocrity and mediocrity is what we have producing for some time. It’s what we’ve been settling for. Heck I’ve settled for it. Some where along the line mediocrity speaks to you and convinces you that you are safe, that you are comfortable (which you are) and then it lies to you and tells you that that’s really all one can ask for. I’m refusing to believe that’s the truth.

I’m refusing to believe comfort, convenience and mediocrity are all that life has to offer. Are all that one can hope for. I have let myself be convinced, for too long, that my comfort is what’s important, but it’s not. In fact comfort, almost never, produces excellence, or the extraordinary.

So what does this mean? I don’t know yet, but I’m excited. Excited to learn beyond my horizons. To challenge myself to make my life less convenient and more meaningful. To manage my time differently. To pursue what excites with fervor.

The older I get the more I’m learning, maturity and growth are about learning to be fearless. That’s the secret behind any great art. Not great technique or planning, but being willing to risk failure. Being willing to not be afraid to fail and whatever it is you’re trying to create. I think it’s the secret to living an extraordinary life as well.

Fresno, hear my call, abandon the numbing comfort we’ve all become accustomed to and embrace something unexpected. Someone suggested that we should change Fresno’s name in an article in the Fresno Bee once. The author claimed that the reputation has been so badly blasted in the media that this was the only way to change the nation and the world’s notions about Fresno. An interesting notion, but a flawed one. If we change the name, but fail to change the people or the city, the world will not be fooled. I’d rather change us. I’d rather inspire us to be more and sit back and watch as the world notices a group of people truly living.

"I'm Sorry"

2010-04-22T08:28:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid I was a dreamer and a liar. I would get carried away in my own imagination. I would imagine scenarios and stories. Play out conversations in my head. (Many involved the president and Oprah, not joking.) When I was in trouble, there was always a period of time that I would have to "sit and think about what I'd done." I didn't usually think about what I'd done though, usually, I'd think about how I could get out of it. I'd craft arguments and positions in my mind, colorful explanations for what I did and why. Though I would dream up wonderful, matlock-esq explanations, I never really lied outside of my own thoughts. Not until I was in High School anyway. Usually, I would come up with all my stories and by the time my parents came in, what came out of me was, "I'm sorry."

To be honest I'm not sure how sorry I was. I bet sometimes I was sorry. Like if I'd made my sister cry or something, but usually I think I knew "I'm sorry" was the way for me to make things right with my family. It would end the separation I experienced when I had violated the terms of our arrangement. I had disobeyed my parents and I knew "I'm sorry" was my ticket back in.

I still say I'm sorry a lot. Sometimes at inappropriate times in conversation. I think when I say it, what I'm trying to say is, I don't want things to be uncomfortable between us anymore or I want things to be right with us or Are we ok? But instead what comes out is I'm sorry.

I've noticed the same pattern with me and God. Often I'll quickly run through my list of confession to Him. I'll breeze over the list of my sins and quickly get to something more tolerable. It's made me begin to question, How grieved over my sin am I? I know I want to be right with God. I know I don't want things to be uncomfortable or weird between us. I don't want to feel like He's far from me. I wonder, am I actually repentant or am I just trying to appease God by apologizing for my sin.

I think the motive of getting out of the dog house isn't completely bad, but it's not complete. God wants me not only to apologize, he wants me to grieve my sin, to hurt a little. To long to be right with him again. Not so I sit in self pity, but so I don't want to do it again. So I can identify with the pain Christ felt on the cross and so I can appreciate how great a sacrifice He made.

Even though it's awkward, it's good for me to think about what I've done. If I don't think about it how will I be motivated to change it and if I don't work towards changing it, am I really sorry at all? I know I'll never be perfect, I recognize that full well, but I can't grow weary of trying to change. I can't get cold to the gravity of sin or else I'll demean the gravity of the sacrifice of Christ for me.

Now once I do grieve, once I do confess, I can't dwell. I've got to let it go. I've got to let God do what He does and restore us and not hold on to it. I've still got accept what He's done for me, but I can only accept it fully if I experience the pain fully. I do it a disservice if I numb myself to it or hold on to it.

There are a lot of things I'm not sure of, but I have a feeling God wants a little more than an insincere "I'm sorry" from me.

Pathetic

2010-04-19T15:20:00.001-07:00

Feeling pathetic about yourself doesn't make you a better Christian. Though popular thinking might support that. For most of my life I thought that guilt and shame were just a normal part of a Christian existence. In fact, I even convinced myself that when I felt that way, it was because I was repentant over my sin, but that's not the truth. What started as repentance quickly became wallowing in self pity. Which isn't pretty from any angle.

The truth is, the root of my self-depricating behavior was not my grief over my sin, but my lack of faith and my pride. The truth is, it's easy for me to believe in the grace of God when I don't need it. As soon as I sin, especially a sin that I judge as "big" or "dirty" or "extra bad", I doubt whether God really forgives me right away. Which is pathetic and the reason I do it, even more pathetic. The reason I do it isn't because I'm so broken over my sin. The real reason I do it, is because most days, no matter how many times I read "it is by grace you have been saved through faith, so no man can boast (eph 2:8)" I still believe in the way I respond, that God is keeping a record of my rights and wrongs. I still believe, in that moment that I'm not measuring up. And then, instead of turning to Christ and accepting his Grace. I sit, in self pity, because I've failed again to redeem myself in my actions. I feel that way because I still, some days, don't want to admit that I need a Savior. I still believe I should have some part or role in my own salvation, even though I don't.

If whatever you are feeling after you sin, doesn't cause you to worship and seek Christ, it isn't repentance. It's guilt, self-pity, or shame, no matter what you name it, it's your pride. True repentance produces worship. True repentance puts God in His proper place and you in yours. True repentance is the first step in healing, not wallowing.

When it comes down to it, my true theology is what I practice; not what I claim to believe or even what I've memorized and theorized about. When my reactions and emotions do not match up with what I know or believe to be true, it must begin the process in me again. It must take me back to Christ and to a process of self-evaluation, so that what I believe can match what I practice.

Lord, help me not to be pathetic.

Annoying Boyfriend.

2010-04-17T09:06:00.000-07:00

With permission from Andrew.. here you go.

Andrew used to do this really annoying thing when we started dating. When I would vent to him about a person, situation, or nearly any frustration he would take the finger I was pointing at the person I was frustrated at and point it at me. He'd remind me that I do whatever it is that I was frustrated with another person for doing and it drove me absolutely CRAZY. To answer your question guys, Yes, Andrew is fearless. Most guys would not have the cajones to say that to a woman who's frustrated. You can see how this would be a recipe for disaster.

However there is something that he doesn't know... the reason it drove me absolutely crazy is cause he was absolutely right. Actually, he probably does know that. Man, it's annoying dating someone who is mature, pretty much always right, and knows it. Annoying and Awesome.

But I digress. Even though he graciously hears me out and doesn't say it anymore, it still plays in my head every time I'm frustrated with someone. What started out as annoying has become a really useful tool in not wasting time and energy being annoyed by people. By recognizing that I do the very things I'm annoyed with, it's made it much easier for me to love people where they are at, because when I do those things I need that grace from others. It's helped me point out areas in my life that I judge myself too harshly and because of that, I judge others too harshly too. Now, when people annoy me, which they do, it's an opportunity for me to discover something about myself and sort it out.

The result has been that I am much more Zen about things. Much more peaceful. Much more unburdened by the eccentricities of others that I used to use and still do at times as a distraction from dealing with my own issues. It doesn't mean I want to be everyone's BFF all of the sudden, but it is making it easier to give grace to myself and others.

Tuche Belleci. Tuche. :)

Old Regimes

2010-04-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

"Although this kingdom was given to David by God, David would have to take it from the old aristocracy."-Beth Moore

A group of ladies and I have been going through a book about David written by Beth Moore. It's been an interesting experience. I think I've been more interested in the time I get to spend with these ladies than what we've been going through, though both have been rich. I have a very Texas sort of crush on Beth Moore. I wish I didn't like her, because I feel like that would make me a lot cooler, but she's pretty much one of the only legit Christian women speakers. (In my opinion, which is the only one that matters on my blog).

I love this quote. I've written a lot about the effort it takes to move on, to grow, to move past, and this speaks to that. You're probably over it by now, but I'm not so ha. Personal growth takes work and effort. You don't magically become a different person, or in this case King. You'll remain under the "old regime" for as long as you allow yourself to.

This quote also speaks to the awkward in between. I feel like I keep finding myself in these almost/not yet sort of situations. I haven't arrived in any area of my life which is exciting and yet unsettling. There are certain things they don't tell you when you're growing up. Like, when you graduate from college, you aren't going to get the job of your dreams. In fact, you'll probably have the job of your nightmares, if you're lucky, that will have nothing to do with what you actually want to do. Oh, or you'll find what you thought you wanted to do, you wouldn't want to do in a million years.

You'll find yourself in relationships that are grey and confusing with people who are grey and confusing (which are the best kind of people by the way, see Alice in Wonderland:

The Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?

[Alice checks Hatter's temperature]
Alice Kingsley: I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.)

You'll have more questions than answers, and much more to learn.

But no one tells you that. They tell you what to do next, but not what's coming after. They don't teach you how to pursue the future for yourself. They don't prepare you to make your own decisions. Because all of the sudden, you decide what's coming next and what's happening after. And while that is an all together terrifying experience. It is rich with possibility and those of us who believe in God can do so with a peace that there is purpose in whatever place we find ourselves.

What I love about this quote is what hope there is. David might not have the kingdom yet, but He will, because it's God's will. That doesn't mean David sits back and waits for God to hand him the kingdom. He had to do the work. He had to take it.

So what did he do in the meantime? He spent time with God so he'd know when to move and then he moved when God said move. He took the kingdom.

Messy Grace

2010-03-03T09:15:00.001-08:00

I don't know if I mentioned it much, but I work for this church. This church that believes in grace (aka "unmerited favor"). What church people mean when they say that is God did it all. It's not cause we're good or cool (if you've ever met a Christian you can approve that statement). It's cause God is so gracious He chooses to be kind to us. Even though we're, well, us.

There is one catch though. Once you've received grace, you're supposed to extend it. We have a hard time with this one. Especially at church. Most churches are places where people feel judged, guilted or shamed for who they are. I'm lucky to be at a place that doesn't value that. We like to consider ourselves a church of grace, however, putting our money where our mouth is is hard. There comes a point when you are extending grace to someone that you come to a place where you are forced to allow your reputation to be "tarnished" for the sake of extending grace to a person the world might feel is unqualified. It's really easy to extend grace to someone when it makes you look good. I mean even talking about it makes you look good. Who wouldn't want to call themselves gracious? It sounds so altruistic. But actually doing it? That's messy. That's hard.

I haven't always been a person who errs on the side of grace. In fact, most of the time, I fear I've been the opposite, but that's slowly changing in me. The older I'm getting, the more I'm realizing just how disqualified I am from earning God's grace. As I realize it, it compels me to show it to others. Grace though it seems passive, is actually a very active choice. You have to choose to care more about extending grace to a person that what a judgmental loudmouth (see me a couple years ago, and still on a bad day) would say. You have to care more about grace than your reputation.

Recently, I was handling a sticky situation at the church. A person of a not so perfect reputation coming around and wanting to serve. We've seen this many times. I mean if we disqualified people from serving based on their sin, we'd have a pretty empty church, and no staff members. What do you do when people are pointing out someone and asking, should this person be "allowed" to serve?

As we were chewing on the issue, we examined the persons heart and intentions, their openness to truth being spoken into their life, their ability to really understand truth, and where they are at in their relationship with the Lord.

Then I started to think. God really tarnished his reputation by extending grace to us. I mean, God is perfect. Holy. Awesome. Wonderful. And yet, a large part of the world sees Him as a joke because of Christians. God chose to care more about loving us, about extending us grace, than protecting His reputation. The least I can do is forfeit mine in the same way. Will I get burned? Maybe. Probably, but God's been burned a few times too. Does it mean I stop speaking truth? Absolutely not, but I want to do so considering where a person is at in this journey with God. If we get in the trenches with people, odds are things are going to get a little dirty, and I ain't scared of getting a little dirt under my nails. Will there be those who don't understand? Surely, but it's not my job to appease the masses. It's not my job to silence the voices of judgment. All I need to do is be willing to be misunderstood for the sake of grace.

The Pygmalion Project

2010-02-19T00:29:00.000-08:00

You may or may not know the story of Pygmalion. In ancient Cyprus, Pygmalion went on a search for the perfect woman. One problem, he couldn't find her (go figure). So he decided to build one. He had the perfect woman carved out of stone and he fell madly in love with her. The only problem? She was made of stone. Aphrodite felt bad for him (I'm not sure why) and turned his woman of stone into flesh. A true love story indeed.

In the field of psychology there is a phenomenon based on this myth. I learned about it in a family relations class I took in college and it has always fascinated me, because I've found it to be crazy true.

The Pygmalion Project is a struggle going on beneath the surface in relationships. Basically, each member of the couple is trying to change the other into their "perfect" mate. The problem is, they were attracted to their mate for a reason and part of that reason is their "imperfection." If they succeed in their efforts, they are often disappointed, because the person they fell for isn't the same anymore.

I started thinking, Are we doing the same with God? Am I trying to change the image I have of God? And what happens if I succeed? When I attribute characteristics to God that aren't true, I am doing that very thing. It may be impossible to change God as you can change the person you're in a relationship with, but you can certainly change, dilute, or distort your image of God. I can easily start to believe untruths about God. When I do that I am pretty much composing my own god out of stone. A god that accepts my sin. A god that brushes over my mistakes. A god that is mellow. A god that is passive.

If I'm honest, I am much more comfortable with a loving, always accepting, grandpa, teddy bear of a god. I am much more comfortable with a passive god, because that means I get to be in control. I think the root of this is biblical. In Genesis 3 it talks about "a woman's desire being for her husband." What that means is a desire for his position, a desire to be in control, and I think that desire does not end with "my husband's" position, I think I'm after God's too. In fact, I often breeze over, excuse, and belittle my sin, when in fact, God is far from cool with it, though He graciously forgives it.

Men distort their image of God too. Their ideal god is cool with their sexual immorality. At the very least he tolerates it. Don't believe me? Check out every religion created by men, it ALWAYS involves a distorted view of sexuality. Mormons? polygamy. Islam? a buttload of virgins. The greeks? Oracle sex. And the list goes on and on, but it is not just limited to other religions. Lets face it, guys would really like it if God was cool with or glazed over their desire for pornography or their lust for other women. The issue is rarely talked about publicly, but is a secret struggle for many good men. When the truth is, God is far from tolerate of it. Though He provided mercifully for it's covering a long time ago.

If we're not careful, if I'm not careful, to preserve my image of God for who He really is, I'll attribute characteristics to him that are untrue. I'll in effect change Him into someone I'm more comfortable with and in the meantime I'll be creating my own god of stone. The result is not only that I have distorted His image, but I am no longer attracted to Him or desire Him, because the god I've created is no longer holy, righteous, or just. I've succeeded in completing my own version of the Pygmalion Project. He is no longer Him and most likely I'll blame Him for my lack of desire for Him. I'll wonder why He's become silent. I'll cry out to my god of stone, while a holy, perfect and true God is waiting for me to acknowledge Him for who He truly is.

Is your god a god of flesh or stone?

Good Stuff Coming soon.

2010-02-07T12:02:00.001-08:00

And by soon, I mean like later today, but I'm so excited about it I thought I'd give a teaser.

"Women want a god who is passive. So they can feel loved and walk all over him. Men want a god who is cool with them having sex with everyone and everything."

yep, I actually said that. Check back in for a full explanation later :)

Short Comings

2010-01-17T18:15:00.000-08:00

I'm short. Not midget short, but definitely below average. I didn't know I was short until I was in first grade. Peter Brionez told me. During 1st recess he told me that I was so short I looked like a tater tot. I didn't have a come back. I just went back into class when the bell rang and then went home and cried. Now it doesn't seem that terrible. I mean tater tots are awesome and thanks to Napolean Dynomite they have become a pop culture staple.

I wonder how long it would have taken me to figure out that I was short if Peter Brionez hadn't told me.

There are some things about being short that are nice that you might not be aware of (especially you tall people):

1. Low center of gravity, I rarely fall.

2. I've never been too tall for a guy

3. I don't hit my head on things

4. Never have to worry about high waters (well, I guess I have to worry about actual high bodies of water, but not the fashion don't)

5. I'm awesome at hide and go seek

6. I always have enough leg room. period.

7. I've never scared a child.

However, with all of these advantages, there are some drawbacks:

1. People pet you a lot

2. they also pick you up. Not cool.

3. there's the obvious inability to reach things on the top shelf, that sucks.

4. I'll never be "discovered" as the new face/body of Chanel

5. I think it contributes to people not taking me seriously.

6. No matter how old I get I'll look like a kid.

Whatever the pluses and minuses are, I am, and there's no fighting it. I couldn't look at Peter Brionez and tell him, "no I'm not," or "so are you," because what he said was true. Harsh, strange, immature, but true. I wish it was as easy to admit short comings about myself that aren't so obvious. When I'm faced with criticism I usually have a come back. Why do I fight even what I know deep down to be true? Why would I rather pretend to be taller than I really am? Especially when I'm not fooling anyone. Why do we fool ourselves into believing we are a bigger deal than we actually are? Why do I care so much about covering up those short comings? Do I really believe I am fooling anyone else? Do I really believe that if I argue hard enough, and hide long enough, that the world around me will think I'm good and perfect?

I think I do. On some sick level, if the people around me think I'm good, a nice person, fun, sweet, friendly, insert whatever you wish to be here, then it must be true. Why don't we want to believe about ourselves what we already know to be true on some level? Probably cause it sucks. Probably because it's a lot easier to think we're doing better than we actually are. That's why I'm thankful for the Peter Brionez's in my life. People who can be honest with me about my shortcomings. I just hope I can grow to acknowledge them, accept them, and work on changing them.

My dear reader there are areas in your life where you are a "tater tot." I can only hope you have a more tactful Peter Brionez in your life to let you know.

Faces of Stone

2010-01-08T16:29:00.000-08:00

Have you ever really looked at old people? Like a lot of them? I grew up in Armenian church, so I became an expert in interpreting old people. The human form and it's aging is fascinating to me. Recently, I've become more in touch with the idea of my own mortality. We get old. At 25, my body is starting to change and each day I look more and more like my mother, which isn't a bad thing at all, but it is different. While I know, I hope, I have a long way to go, it's made me think about how people choose to cope with the process of aging.

As a young girl, I studied the faces and personalities of the old people around me. Partly out of fear and the rest out of a morbid curiosity. I mean, they were EVERYWHERE. Some old people are really scary. They hate kids and their faces all look like that guy on the bitter beer face commercials.

Then there are some who make you feel warm and safe just looking into their eyes. There is a peace and comfort in some and with others a bitterness and sharpness. As I studied, I developed a theory. I came to realize that as we age the soul of a person gets closer to the surface. You can read it in the lines of their face. Those who age gracefully and those who don't. There are those with laugh lines, and others that seem to have faces of stone and as life has caused their souls to grow bitter and their hearts cold, their outside seems to more and more reflect their insides. Youth is beautiful because it's full of potential and is unmarred by the sometimes unfair, sometimes wonderful, sometimes beautiful world we live in. I've realized the older we get, the harder it is to hide behind your youth. We are forced to take responsibility for ourselves. For who we are becoming and what we have become. Youth and ignorance are a perfect excuse, but it only works for so long. At some point we have to take an active roll in who we are becoming, or we'll blink and life will have passed, and we won't be ready to face the reality in the mirror.

C.S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul, you are a soul, you have a body." I couldn't say it better if I tried. The essence of who you are is so pure, but that's not all there is to the story. There is a myth out there. A myth that you have to just "discover" who you are. In the movie "Hitch" there is this line that I love. Hitch is telling a dweeby guy that he needs a new pair of shoes. The guy says the shoes aren't really "him." Hitch says, "You is a very fluid concept right now." Who you are is a fluid concept, it is not set in stone. As life happens it must be not only discovered, but developed. Each day, each decision I make, I shape the image of who I am (aka my soul), the life I will lead and ultimately what image my soul will have as it begins to peek through the shell it's incased in.

(and yes I WILL be wearing this when I'm 90)

I hope to be the kind of woman who's eyes tell a story of grace, of love, of peace, and of acceptance of who I am and who I'm not. I hope to age gracefully with Christ. To have my soul become more like Him, so children won't be afraid of me and so I won't resent who I become. I hope to maintain a sense of humor, to continue to take myself less seriously and choose to care about things that matter and get over things that don't. It's going to take work. It's going to take faith and it's going to take time, if I'm lucky, it'll take a life time, but it's something I'm going to start today. I'm going to start by evaluating myself honestly. By asking others to. By recognizing and accepting and changing what I need to. I'm going to start by spending more time with Christ.

What are you doing to develop your soul?

My Holiday Theory of Hope

2010-01-04T14:51:00.000-08:00

Hey Blog friends.

It's been awhile. Hope the holidays have been treating you well. I had a unique experience this holiday season that I wanted to share with you.

I've been pretty "mum" on the subject of my guy and that's intentional for a couple reasons. It's also the reason that it's been a little quiet on the blog front for awhile. A lot of what I'm currently learning centers around him and us. It's just the nature of this dating beast and I'm either way too respectful of him or way to selfish to share that just yet. However, I will share this with you.

Leading up to Christmas we often said to each other, "It just doesn't feel like Christmas."

I heard many of my friends of a similar age and season of life saying the same things and I started to wonder, why are we all not "feeling" Christmas this year?

Christmas for me, is usually a mix of sentimentality, reflection, family, and a sense of wishing and even missing the past. Missing the Christmas's and special times with family. The fuzzy memories of precious time wrapped in magic and wonder and probably lacking even a splash of reality. The same components are still there. My family, the sights, sounds, tastes, and excitement, but nothing is quite like the hope for and anticipation of Christmas as a child. Teenage Christmas's just weren't childhood Christmas's filled with wonder, excitement and magic. Teenage Christmas's were melancholy looks at what Christmas had been, at least for me. So, the ones after that were really less about experiencing this holiday and more about reflecting on the ones I'd had.

But something changed this year. This year I wanted to be in the "present" and I'm not talking about gifts. Was it because of the "him" in my life? Maybe, that was probably at least part of it. Was it because I'm finally letting go of some past seasons that were painful? That may be part of it too. I think I finally accepted this year that the best moments of my life haven't happened yet. Each Christmas will be different like each year. Each will have it's ups and downs and hopefully each will have it's lessons learned. That's the beauty of this ride.

All I know is there is something beautiful and hopeful about being able to live in and appreciate the moment we're in. I love sentimentality, history and looking back, but this holiday served as a good reminder for me, that for as much as we look back we also have to keep up, to move forward, to move on in some cases, and to pursue what we're in. To embrace and enjoy where we are at.

This year will not be what was.

Depending on the year you had that statement can carry a lot of different emotions. For my friend who got married this year, that statement was a little sad. It's no longer their first year. Though that's exciting, it's a little bittersweet. For those who 2009 held immense pain and challenges, 2010 will not be what was. It will be what it will be. Instead of attempting to hold onto the past and failing, or fumbling at trying to figure out the future. Do today. Each day this year.

My resolution. To experience this year fully. To learn a lot. To live(fully) a whole year.

Skin Deep

2009-12-20T10:48:00.000-08:00

I've always felt like there was a bit of a dichotomy in me. A side of me that loves this blog and what it represents, my adventures and meager attempts to explore the things I don't understand. Then there's this other side of me that loves expression in a different sense.

So I started a new pet project. A blog called Skin Deep. After a significant amount of "wardrobe consulting" for friends and frequent questions about what I'm wearing and where I got it from, I've decided to share my faves, inspirations, guilty pleasures, obsessions, and secrets with as many of you as will listen. Follow me. Experiment. explore. comment and enjoy!

Cambria June

If I had a fishing supply store I'd call it "Keeping it Reel"

2009-11-17T07:48:00.000-08:00

I'm continually surprised by the volume of women I encounter who are still enslaved. I'm not talking about women who are enslaved to obvious sin. I encounter them frequently as well and I am among them sometimes, regularly if I'm real honest. What I am surprised to encounter are women who are enslaved to their own image. Obsessed with trying to be the "perfect Christian girl." An oxy moron in and of itself.

For generations "The Church" (not one specific), our culture, and societal pressures have told women to conceal their true emotions. We're all supposed to be little June Cleavers. Little Pearl wearing, pie baking, husband loving, kid driving, June Cleavers. There is nothing wrong with being those things, in fact, a lot of them appeal to me, I love pearls, but the idea that a woman can be perfectly all those things, all the time is ridiculous. That's why an entire generation of women concealed their true emotions with quaaludes and martinis. Take my great grandmother for instance. She was raised to believe she wasn't a sinner (when I can tell you from first hand experience, she was). Sinners were bad people who murdered and she was a good armenian girl, not a sinner.

Things aren't exactly the same. We're not just expected to be the perfect wife anymore. We're expected to be the perfect employees, room moms, soccer moms, students, and the perfect Christian women.

We've come a ways since then, but not that far. Now it's ok for women to be sinners, but it's not ok for them to say HOW they sin. They are very generally sinners. Not that we are to boast in sin, but can we be honest about it? Can we be honest about the process God has us in? With the veil torn we come not as male or female, but one in Christ (Galations 3:28). Which means, we have the same responsibility to fervently pursue Holiness. We can't pursue what we won't allow the Spirit of God to search out in us. We can't sort out sin we aren't willing to face head on. We can't cleanse ourselves of what we aren't willing to shine light on.

It's time for women to stop monopolizing their time with how to fix the men in their lives and start admitting they have work to do on themselves.

I'm sick of seeing women obsessed with trying to pretend they are perfect. Always happy, always together, seemingly unacquainted with pain and sorrow. Unwilling to admit how hard life can be. Not in an effort to discredit God's ability to meet our needs in every circumstance, cause He surely is, but acknowledging the elephant in the room that this sanctification process is and should be hard. We are trying to overcome our very nature. At the very least, considering the pain of this world and the amount of people who have NO HOPE, NO FOOD, we should at the very least be somewhat burdened for them at times.

Paul was joyful in the Lord, but He wasn't bubbly all the time. Many of his writing is quite melancholy actually, because he was experiencing physical pain and because he was burdened for the lost that surrounded him.

Don't misunderstand me there is nothing wrong with being happy, or being joyful. It's one of the fruits of the spirit and we should be joyful. And despite what a lot of my writing sounds like sometimes, at the end of the day I am very satisfied. I think some women hide behind a false sense of joy. In doing so, they cause those who are suffering, those who are brave enough or forced to face their sin head on, to think that they could never attain that level of holiness. The truth is they can't, cause it's fake.

I aspire to be the kind of woman who is honest about her sin, but doesn't make excuses for it. Who is acquainted with pain, but maintains a peace that God is in control. Who pursues Holiness with tenacity and who allows her attitude and heart to be teachable and protest louder than her mouth. I'm going to be honest, I'm not there yet, but I see a few women that are...

Darlene Hanson, Cindy Heffner, & Wendi Mooney, just to name a few, so I know they exist.

What I'd like to see... Real women. Honest women. Authentic women. As Paul says in Second Corinthians: "Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, like some people, letters of recommendation to you or from you? You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody." 2 Cor. 3: 1-3

Paul allowed those he invested in to be the testimony of the quality and depth of his walk with God.

So, ladies, let's allow those around us to be the testimony of our walks... not just our facebook posts. Let us desire to be honest with ourselves and with others about the state we are truly in, so we can experience true growth and true community together.

Energy, or Lack There Of

2009-11-14T09:29:00.000-08:00

²⁹To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me.-Col. 1:29

Laboring to and for our own end is exhausting. Our energy is limited, especially when it comes to doing good. To accomplish what we were left here to accomplish. The gospel: To hope in the coming of Christ, which produces faith and love, which are abound to others that they may know Jesus is who He says He is. What a relief that it is not in my energy that these things are accomplished, or God would be quite limited to my emotions and mood. What a reminder that when I am emotionally and physically exhausted, when I'm at the end of myself, my efforts, what I'm capable of, I'm in the perfect place for Him to begin the works he always intended for me.

Why do I start to believe the lie that I can do anything good apart from Him? Probably because I can, at least for awhile. But like us, our efforts die. They only last so long. The energy to do good expires. The work that He does lasts. So often, I start to believe the lie that I don't have the time to spend with Christ, because I'm too busy doing "His" work. How He must laugh at the energy I expel to accomplish nothing. I have the ear of the creator, and yet, I ask Him not.

Friends, lets stop struggling to no avail to do what is right and seek Him today.

Dear, Sweet November

2009-11-02T16:59:00.000-08:00

November is one of my favorite months and I'm not just saying that. It's at least top three for sure. The smells and sounds refresh me in a way my words wouldn't do justice. Where I live there are a lot of oak trees that shed their leaves this time of year. There is something captivating about the growth and changing of these trees. It mirrors for me the potential we have as human beings for growth. A challenge that is equally daunting and beautiful. Beautiful because of the opportunity for change and the possibility for each individual to overcome past wounds, present shortcomings, and avoid future pitfalls; and daunting because unlike the trees who shed their leaves without thought or effort, we must choose to shed ours.

The leaves that I grew last year, may not serve me any longer. The trees must loose their leaves to gain more. In the same way I must let go of the parts of me that served me in my youth, or may never have served me at all, to make room for the growth God has for me.It may be time to shed them and the only way I will is if I actively seek God's counsel, the counsel of trusted friends, and continue to look at myself through fresh eyes.

Can I be honest, I'm excited and terrified. Cause if I'm really being honest here, it's way easier, and more comfortable for me to just stay here. To be an evergreen. To maintain. The continual pruning and growing process is exhausting, even on it's best day, but I'm back, cause it's worth it. Cause it's better. Cause even though it's hard my Spirit can't stay put any longer.

Lord, may I be teachable this November. Humble. Open to shedding the structures and forms that may have served me in the past, but are now inhibiting the growth that You have for me. And don't let me be done, till I'm with You.

The Whole Truth

2009-10-17T00:10:00.000-07:00

Upon further investigation, I don’t think I gave you the whole story. You see, a few months ago, everything changed and all the sudden all of my theories and all of my rationalizing couldn’t explain it away. A few months ago my Aunt & Uncle, who have courageously tried to get pregnant for sometime now miscarried their twins, Billie & Miles, at almost 6 months into her pregnancy. And just a few weeks later I watched dear friends of mine say goodbye to their little boy, Tyler James Rumley.

What was remarkable to see in Jerrod & Jen Rumley was their response. Faith and honesty in the midst of what can only be inadequately described as an utter tragedy. I tried for a few months to write something about it, something about them, but I couldn’t. I just felt like there was nothing significant to say after that. Words didn’t express enough. They couldn’t express the ache in my heart for all of them. They couldn’t express how completely pissed I was that this was happening. And they couldn’t express how helpless it is to sit by and watch such an injustice occur. And I watched them get up and give glory to God and I realized; I had no idea what faith really was.

So I got pissed. And more pissed. And months went by and I was still really pissed. Why would this happen? What possible benefit could there be to this? How would a good God ever allow this to happen? So pretty much for months, this has been internally circling around. And even a month on another continent couldn’t change it.

This week I had a tiny breakthrough. In reading a, let’s be honest, sorta boring passage in Deuteronomy, about the law, I discovered something. God is a God who loves justice. He has blessings and curses laid out for the Israelites that are so clear and quite frankly fair. That’s when I realized, God loves justice, and we’re the ones who don’t. And we can’t. Follow me here for a sec. As soon as we sinned, so long ago, we forfeited our right for justice, for a fair world. It’s the same injustice that has caused me to question the character of God by which I am saved. If not for the injustice of God these tragedies would not be allowed, but if it were not for His injustice, none of us would be saved. So we’re forced to live by faith. Trusting what we do not see played out in reality and what we aren’t able to rationalize into something positive, productive, better, or fair. We are forced to trust Him.

Honestly, I’m still pissed for them. I still don’t get it. It will still never be ok or make sense, but it isn’t ok to Him either. If I wish to remain upset I can only be upset with the sinful nature I was born into and the unfair, cruel world I must exist in, for what I’m sure I will learn someday, isn’t that long at all.

That’s the Truth. The Whole Truth. For now.

Confession

2009-10-16T17:58:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a seasonal friend? One of those people that enter your life and for a short time they are a large part of your life. They feel like they'll always be there and then, all the sudden, you drift apart. Maybe that thing or person you had in common isn't there anymore, but you live in Fresno, which means, you'll run into this person. Most likely at Target. It's not that you don't like this person anymore, you just don't know how to even talk to them anymore.

That's kinda what this blog has become for me. Like that friend I had a few months ago. The one I thought would definitely be in my wedding some day, but now, I can't even remember what it is we had in common. How did we get here? Maybe I was still unsure how much I wanted to expose myself in such a public manner. Maybe I was scared to be so vulnerable. Or maybe, I'm just not that interesting. Either way, I got so far away from this thing I wasn't sure how to come back, where to start again.

So, I've decided to do the hard thing, at least for me. Instead of just letting this thing slowly die and becoming another one of those people that started a blog, I've decided to revive this one. To rebuild. Hope you'll still join me, after all, we did say we'd be best friends forever.

Cam

Lessons in Worship from a Demon.

2009-05-11T16:00:00.000-07:00

I think all of my problems could be boiled down to truly recognizing who Jesus is and who I am in comparison.

Working for a church and being around the things of God a lot, I am in the business of "God" so to speak, it's easy to become desensitized. Overexposed. To take for granted who God truly is and what He has done. Too often I become too familiar and lose the sense of Awe, Wonder and Fear I should have as I approach Jesus. Instead of being a humble worshiper I become a cold hearted Pharisee, who finds my identity in the work I do and not in who I am in Him.

Pharisees have had this problem for awhile. When they met Jesus for the first time they had mixed reactions.

They gossiped about him to his disciples (Matt 9: 11)

They questioned his leadership (Matt 12:2)

They blasphemed him (Matt 9:34)

They were looking for a way to discredit him (Luke 6:7)

They plotted to kill him (Matt 12:14)

Why did the people who were supposed to be waiting for Jesus not recognize Him when He was right in front of their face? Too busy doing what was right? He didn't fit their paradigm? Too proud to need a Savior?

Regardless of the reason, they missed it. They missed him. If I'm not careful I can miss Him too. When I fail to recognize Jesus for who He is in my life, When I begin to define myself by what I do and not who I am in Him, I've missed Him.

By contrast, Jesus meets a man filled with an army of demons who receives Him quite differently. We know this man only as Legion, here's his response to Jesus:

Mark 5:6-7

6 When he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped Him. 7 And he cried out with a loud voice and said, “What have I to do with You, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I implore You by God that You do not torment me.”

When the man possessed by the army of demons saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped him. If a demon responds to my Jesus like that, how much greater should my response be? A demon knows better than a pharisee who Jesus is, because he knows he is in opposition to him, a pharisee is, but doesn't realize it. His identity is in His empty obedience to legalistic "good works." Being a pharisee is like dying by carbon monoxide poisoning. It's a slow and silent death of the soul.

If I truly recognize who Jesus is and who I am by comparison. I'll run to him, fall before him, and worship him.

Mi Familia

2009-05-11T15:22:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I was a little overzealous with this whole week of blogging in the middle of lots of events, storyboarding, and residency, so my bad. Instead, I'm going to give you the Legacy's I've been left. Abridged. Here you go...

Dad: Meekness, Strength in Humility

My Dad suffers from Parkinson's disease. As many of you already know. What you may or may not know is he was once a competitive body builder. He was, to me, the embodiment of physical strength and security. As the Lord has humbled the physical body of my father and in that broken him of every tie he had to his identity in this world, I have seen him depend more on Christ. The weaker his body becomes, the more humble he grows, the more dependent on Christ he becomes, and the stronger he is.

Mom: Spontaneity & Individuality

My mother is an individual. I used to resent her for it. She is relentless in her desire to be true to who she is. I used to think a mother had to be a certain way and for awhile I wanted her to be like other moms, you know, more boring ones. Now, I am so thankful. What I didn't realize is my mother was teaching me that it was ok for me to be unique. That I didn't have to conform to the mold, that I could be a good mom who didn't wear a string of pearls, unless I wanted to...

Ama & Grandma: Servitude

My grandmothers could not be more different. Where they are similar is they will do absolutely anything to serve their families, and especially their husbands.

Grandpa: Faithfulness

My grandpa is the most faithful man I've met. He faithfully serves, gives, supports, and encourages. He does right when no one is watching.

Apa: generosity

My dear Apa who we lost a little over a year ago was a precious man. He was quiet and warm, but mostly he was extremely generous with his family and denied us nothing.

Madi: Unconditional Love

Rob: Encouragement

Bella: Grace

I could go on and on, but you get the picture. My family has left a mark on me. I am who I am because of them and learn about who Jesus is through them. We each leave a legacy on those around us... What's yours?

This week: a portrait of my family.

2009-04-06T11:17:00.000-07:00

Hey Blog friends,

I usually reserve my very rarely updated blog for the aha moments God gives me as I skip, jump, twirl, fall, and walk along this road with Him. However, my aha moment this week is not what he's showing me now, but what he's already shown me. I was reading Romans 16 this week, Paul's shout out to his peeps and realized the impact

of people in my life. I am who I am because of the influence of others in my life. So this week I would like to share with you portraits of lives that have influenced me. Family members here and past who have shaped who I am.

They aren't spiritual giants that will end up in text books. They aren't perfect. But they aspired to lead quiet lives that please the Lord and for that humble example I am eternally grateful. Hope you enjoy their inspiring stories as much as I do.

My love affair with Amos Lee

2009-03-31T11:15:00.000-07:00

At first it was just a crush and I thought maybe it was just infatuation. But these feelings are real and go much deeper than I first expected. I am absolutely in LOVE with Amos Lee and I don't care who knows it.

His sultry voice and soulful lyrics touch my soul and I'm just going to say it, unapologetically, because it's the truth, even though it is sappy. Though in my mind he is a very single, lovely man who loves Jesus and respects women, I realize that is most likely fantasy. However, I think he accidentally nailed the core struggle of walking in holiness with Christ.

In his song "Seen it All Before" he has this lyric that has always haunted me. "Stuck between the depths of my fears and the peaks of my pride." And that is exactly it. He unintentionally nailed the daily struggle we experience to walk in step with Christ. Every time I fall, every time I choose something besides Christ it's because of one of those things. My fear or my pride.

My pride tells me I don't need Him, that I got this. My fears tell me I can't trust Him. When I am emptied out before the Lord that is what gets exposed. My fears and my pride. And that is what they feel like! My pride is puffed up like a peak and I come crashing down off the top of it when the Lord in His grace humbles me before I'm too much of an idiot. And my fears.. they feel like depths. When I wallow there in my fears and insecurities, they are paralyzing and when I truly search them I realize the black hole-like spiral they send me into.

Somewhere in between those places, of darkness and fleeting self sufficiency there is a sweet spot of dependency on Christ. This beautiful place that is much less dramatic and maybe even less exciting than bouncing back and forth through the extremes of emotion we experience when we ping pong back and forth between living in fear and living in pride. But the peace that we're longing for in the core of us is there, one that's beyond understanding.

Let yourself fall in love.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=el74EUL1swQ

Let's Get Physical

2009-03-17T00:48:00.000-07:00

I like people. A lot. The people in my life are important to me. Sometimes I will go to great lengths to show the people I care about how much I care about them. It's been about a month since I've seen my grandmother. I know that because the last time I saw her it was when we were shopping at TJ Maxx and in order to save an extra 20% that day I opened up an account with them. They have a 28 day billing cycle, and my bill was due today. When I realized that I figured I should see her, because I assume if I haven't spent quality time with a person in awhile, they probably think I don't care about them.

My grandmother is a very interesting woman. First of all, she doesn't look like a grandmother and she hates that word because that is a name for an old woman and she is not old. In our family, she is Ama. Much better. A little over a year ago, my grandfather passed away. For the first time in her adult life, she found herself alone. I mean she still has all of us, but we don't live with her and pay her bills. So, she did a very respectable thing and went on a job search. She interviewed and was hired to work the front desk at Sierra Racquet Club. Her duties include, scheduling courts, opening up the facilities, ringing up customers who are renewing their memberships and so forth. One of the perks of her job is that her family gets in free.

When I realized I hadn't seen my Ama in a while, I called her, only to discover that she works on my day off. She insisted I come in to take one of the classes at the club and visit her. I was willing, both to see her and alleviate some of my guilt.

I got there and she immediately started introducing me to everyone. I finally understand where I get my obsessive need to try and know everyone from. She knew every person in the club, their family history, their story, and their normal workout regiment. When we finally made it to our class, I realized how out of place I was. I looked around and saw that everyone there, except for me and my teacher, would qualify for a senior special. The class consisted of mostly ladies and then the token two random guys in an aerobics class. In an aerobics class there are always a couple and they are always the same. The first is gay and/or foreign, and the second is straight, probably staring at your butt, and must make stupid jokes the entire class to prove to the class that he is not the gay/foreign one. But I digress...

Our teacher quickly instructed me to pick up five different instruments and apparatuses we were going to use for the class. Though she was relatively young, it became apparent, nothing about how this class was run had changed in the last 30 years. We even had those rubber band pully things with handles that I had only really seen on that Olivia Newton John video from years ago.

As the work out began I realized something else. I am WAY out of shape and super competitive. Not a good combination. Here I am looking around at these old ladies and dudes and they were way better at this stuff than I am. It was very humbling to say the least. I couldn't wait for class to end. Our instructor bounced around a lot, you could tell she was trying to keep it fresh, but it was the same old thing. Was it working? Yes. I could feel the burn, so to speak, but Did I enjoy it? No.

This experience got me thinking. Why wouldn't I go back to this class? Why didn't I enjoy it? Did I get a good workout? YES! I am so sore already. Did I not enjoy the people? Besides the creepy dude, which there is always one, yes. The ladies were sweet and funny and I enjoyed working out with them. Was it the music? Maybe sometimes. Then I realized what the fatal flaw of the class was... it wasn't innovative. It was boring, because it's been done, and overdone, about a thousand times. At work we talk a lot about wanting to innovate and push things farther, but there was something about seeing this pocket of irrelevance in a time where so many other options are available that made me realize how important innovation is and will become as I continue to age. What I know innately now, because of my youth, will become irrelevant and what we've done will become dated, sooner than we are ready to accept. There's just got to be a way to keep the effectiveness of the workout and the results it produced, without having it look exactly the same.

Your thoughts?

The end before the beginning

2009-03-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

I've never been happy with the physical art I've created. I always have this definite picture in my head of how I want it to look and the finished product is never even close to what I had imagined. I don't think real artists have that. I don't think they know the end before the beginning. Most artists say that they let the picture take them where it leads or something vague and frustrating like that. I started to wonder, Is that indicative of my life? Do I have a picture of what I want the end to be? Am I disappointed when God does something else, even if it is better for me?

My mind never stops. I mean never. I dream every night and I don't listen to music in the car when I'm by myself because I usually forget to turn it on. My mind spins as I try to piece together the past to predict the future. Someone asked me recently why I do this and my response, though sincere at the time, wasn't complete. I told him I'm usually thinking about people, trying to figure out what they are doing and why they are doing it. True. However, that explains what I am thinking about, not why. When I honestly thought about it, I realized I was protecting myself. If I can figure out what is coming next I can prevent myself from being hurt or disappointed. Not true, but it feels true to me sometimes. The truth is, with life, much like art, it is pretty much impossible to figure out the end before the beginning. In the end you are left either with feeling disappointed about life or about your process, because one or both are bound to be wrong or unfair.

So here's my challenge. To live in the present. Vulnerable. Terrified. And excited to see what the master will artfully put together.

Epiphany

2009-02-13T08:19:00.000-08:00

I had this Indian professor once. Indian like from India not Native American. Anyway, her name was Uma, because when she was born her parents took her to the priest or priestess of their Hindu church. Every new baby is taken there and they give a sound that their name will start with. "U' is what they got, it didn't leave them many options, so Uma it was.

Uma was the very first college professor I ever had and that was the first thing she told us my freshman year at Fresno State. It's always stuck with me. As I've been trying to name my blog I've been thinking about it. Those priests or priestesses got a message from "god" and that was the vowel they would give. I'm pretty sure God is not so concerned with what I name a blog. Probably not even with what I name my children someday. So that's not the route that got me to Epiphany.

I started this blog for a couple reasons.

First, I love to write. Always have. But the idea of actually letting people read what I write has always made me a bit nauseated. I figured it was time to grow up a bit, step out a bit, and let people into a part of me that has been somewhat hidden for a long time.

It's turned out to be absolutely terrifying, but in an exciting away. Probably like sky diving or bungee jumping if I'd done either of those things.

Second, the only thing I write about are these little theories I develop about life and things God teaches me as I experience the life He's laid out for me and as I watch people.

So, Thank you for your suggestions, but they kinda sucked. So I began searching and playing around in the dictionary. I stumbled upon this definition and it was love at first sight.

Here's the definition that sealed the deal:

3. a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

I don't have anything new or fancy to offer. I barely know how to work this blog thing. But I'm absolutely fascinated by the mysteries of life unfolded in simple, homely, & commonplace occurrences. If you are too, keep reading and enjoy my little epiphanies for whatever they are worth.

Boxes

2009-01-28T15:46:00.001-08:00

When I was in Kindergarten we had these puzzles we worked on. Mrs. Brammer would give us a sheet of paper with four pictures in a random order. The pictures were a sequence that was out of order. So, it was our job to cut out the four drawings and put them in the order that they occurred. It was always the same sort of thing. Some guy named Jim picked up a bat and a ball. Then Jim went outside and his friend Tim pitched a ball to him. Then Jim hit the baseball. And finally, it went straight threw his mother's window. These cartoons were supposed to teach us to think about what our actions may produce.

One day I was climbing on the counters in my parent's kitchen. I was hanging from the very top shelf trying to reach something I should never reach (for the life of me I can't remember what it is now). My mother walked in and she didn't yell and she didn't grab me. She looked at me and said, "Cambria June, you know those sequence puzzles you do at school. What do you think the next box will look like if you are hanging from the top shelf?" So I sat on the counter and thought about it. Almost immediately I got this mental picture of me laying on the ground, my arm bent in half the wrong way like a cartoon character. So I climbed down, very carefully.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about consequences. I'm an idealist so I think about the future a lot, but not in a very tangible way. Like I think about what the future could and should be like, but not about what my actions today are producing for me in the future. This week I was reading in Ecclesiastics and came across a verse that struck me. Eccl. 8:11 says, "Because the sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil."

I started thinking about that and I realized, the next box is coming. Even if you can't see it right now. The sequence continues. Right now, my actions today, are storing up consequences for tomorrow. But because the sentence for evil, or the negative consequences of evil action or inaction are not executed speedily, I don't think about the next box.

I think the opposite of this verse is the same. Because the fruit of righteousness is not produced quickly, the hearts of the sons of men become faint and are not fully set on doing good. It's easy to lose faith if we forget about the next box, the consequence of our actions today.

The next box is always unknown and it drives me crazy. However, I do know the last box. And maybe that's it. The challenge for me is to live my life in light of the last box, without knowing the next. Maybe, that's the secret to setting your heart on doing good. I don't know the next box. I don't know if the fruit of doing good will come in the next box or the ones after that. But I do know, I get Jesus. If I can just focus on that box and forget about the ones in between, if I can set my heart on Him. I think the doing good thing will come.

Comfortably Numb

2009-01-26T22:07:00.000-08:00

It's not just the naming of the blog that's been difficult for me. Lately I've just lacked inspiration. Typically, I don't have a hard time going deep, in fact, I usually spend too much time completely immersed in my own self deprecating thoughts. However, lately things have been comfortable. I have felt so comfortably numb in the past couple of weeks and all of the sudden it just occurred to me, things are good right now. Life is good right now. I have so many incredible people and relationships in my life. I'm not dating anyone and I don't even care. My family is amazing. I love my job and I'm good at it. Everyone is relatively healthy. My sister hasn't been shot lately. I mean life is good. I don't know what to do with that. The last year of my life has been this awful series of one painful event after another and in some weird, upside down way I felt closer to God than I have ever felt. So now, my prayers are answered and my life is going really well and I'm scared because I don't know if I know how to stay as close to Him as I have been when things are good.

Then I start to think maybe my life isn't good right now. Like it's good in an American sense, but maybe it's not good in a Jesus sense. Maybe I have become too comfortable. Or maybe I have been shopping too much. But I really like shopping. Am I allowed to like Jesus and shopping? I mean if you gave me the choice Jesus or the clothes I just got on clearance there's no contest I pick Jesus, but is that enough? Maybe I have too many things around me and I can't feel him anymore. Or maybe and this one really sucks if it's true, maybe I'm not supposed to be happy or comfortable. Maybe I don't feel content because I was never supposed to be here, in this place where life is comfortable. Because Christ has called me to come and die not to hit a good sale, put on a good event, and be a model citizen. And dying seems pretty uncomfortable. I don't know if I died at all today and I'm supposed to be dying every day. But dying every day is so exhausting. All I wanted while I was hurting and delving into these awful issues from my past and present was not to feel the pain anymore and now, I'm not sure what I want exactly.

I don't think that God doesn't want me to be happy. He's blessed me too much, with too many incredible relationships and situations not to want me to enjoy them. Maybe the problem isn't my situations, maybe it's me. Maybe my relationship with God is a little high school. You know in High School there was always that couple that had a ton of drama. They were constantly fighting, breaking up and getting back together and you wondered, Why do they even stay together? Maybe my relationship with Jesus is sort of like that. Maybe I don't know how to just be with Him without drama. I mean we aren't breaking up and getting back together, but I definitely wonder why He's stayed with me all of this time sometimes. So, I guess it's time to grow up. I don't want God to always have to teach me things the hard way, I'd actually really like to learn things without forcing His hand. So, this is the new frontier for me... How to walk with God when things are good.

name that blog...

2009-01-26T14:28:00.000-08:00

There is nothing more intimidating than endless possibility. When faced with a decision I have a fairly easy time choosing between the options placed in front of me. Like... Regular or Decaf? Regular. (as if that's even a question.) Pepsi or Coke? Pepsi. The red shirt or the pink shirt? Both. When two clear paths are marked in front of me I can decide which one I'd like to traverse. However, when there's like a million different roads and I could even make up my own road if I wanted to, I am absolutely overwhelmed. So here I am, staring at this dark, blank page trying to figure out what in the world I should name my little blog. A name is sort of a big deal for a blog. The tone will be set by it, the few people who click on the link will decide whether they want to read it or not, and since it's mine I feel like it should represent me, which is tough to do since I pack a whole lot of randomness and personality into this petite frame.

So... my challenge to you my dear friends and hopefully my future readers is this:

Name that blog.