big fish

You might be a big fish
In a little pond
Doesn't mean you've won
'Cause along may come
A bigger one

- Coldplay (Lost)

furry friend

Not more than one day after I, Yield's friendly receptionist, sent out an all-staff reminder to the tune of:
...did Miguel leave his window open 1/2 a foot.

In the morning, I discovered this flurry of activity in and around Chris' office:

Dion developing a complex labeling system (what he does best):

With attached sign:
And handy peep-flap:

Revealing:

A rather tired and annoyed raccoon, in the rafters of the office:

Dion and team had placed a ladder for the raccoon's convenience, and place a piece of pizza on each rung to highlight the route. Poor raccoon didn't catch on. I tried coaxing him down with Joy, standing precariously on Chris' desk, but to no avail.

In the end, animal control was called and the travesty heightened:

In case you can't see the raccoon feces and urine crop dusting Chris' office, just take his word for it:

"Everything that could've been pissed on,
has been pissed on."

Jamie was kind enough to draft up this email by the end of day, referring to Ali who has left for a 3-month hiatus:

And this is why I love my job.

sabotage

september 22, 2008

when all around the peace decamps,
when time itself, antagonist,
turns half way 'round and seeks to kill
the hope I have for things I've missed.

when in my soul fatigue descends,
when beaten by the slew of thoughts
that plague me with their biting ways
reminding me of things forgot.

when words from others me deride,
when comfort is illusive still
provoking me to live the lie
that dreams of mine go unfulfilled.

when all my heart is desolate,
when all at once I push aside
the arms which curve around my fears,
in silence ask me to confide.

when he, despite all my defense,
when I am spent in fruitless tries,
entreats to soothe unmentioned wounds,
to wipe the tears I haven't cried

when sweet surrender finds me, soft,
when time for all my pain atones -
it slows itself to let me know:
this world is dark; I'm not alone.

honeymoon revisited

Matthew 11:28-30

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
(thanks, Jess)


Psalm 23

God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.

Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I'm not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd's crook
makes me feel secure.

You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.

Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I'm back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.

I've been pondering a lot about 'peace' recently.

Paul's letter to the Romans outlines that salvation is marked with the knowledge of "the way of peace" (3:17), that "the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace" (8:6), and that, if it is possible (disclaimer #1), as far as it depends on me (disclaimer #2), I should "live at peace with everyone" (12:18).

Everyone? Forever, ever?

Don't get me wrong, I don't go around finding it incredibly difficult to be at peace with people. Being at peace with myself has been an interesting journey but even most of those angels have been wrestled and I'm now entering my blessing.

But the way of peace, controlled by peace, and living at peace with everyone does not yet define who I am.

Recently, my mover has been surfacing and I feel more like the infamous words of Tybalt describe me better: "What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word."

Will "the peace of God, which transcends all understanding...guard [my] heart and [my] mind" (Philippians 4:7) only after I reach an end to my own understanding?

Why is it that King Asa of Judah (2 Chronicles 14-15), whose "heart was fully committed to the Lord all his life" enjoyed the luxury of fortifying Judah's cities "since the land was at peace...no one was at war with him during those years...for the Lord gave him rest" only after he demolished the Cushites and violently cleansed the country of idols, even disposing of his own grandmother, the queen?

What of Ezekiel's vendetta against prophets that soothed Jerusalem with "visions of peace for her when there was no peace" (Ezekiel 13:16)?

Isn't it Jesus that says (in the same gospel of Matthew, only one chapter earlier than the scripture from Jess): "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword"?

Does, as Jess often claims, the Lord have a both/and character instead of a either/or character?

I am tired, worn out, and burned out on religion. I want to recover my life. I want to take a real rest. I want to learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I want to live freely and lightly.

Amen.

oye mi canto

Take me... only for what I am
You've got a right to speak your mind
You've gotta take a stand

No one... has the right to say
This is right or that is wrong
It isn't just one way

Find common ground
Go in between
Things aren't always what they seem

Someday it'll be alright
Changes happen overnight

People, let's give each other room
If we're gonna work it out
We better make it soon

Love is... love is such a common word
When it's pride we mistake for love
Isn't that absurd

Why always take
The upper hand
It's better to understand

Someday it'll be alright
Changes happen overnight

Someday it'll be alright
Changes happen overnight

Oye mi canto
Oye mi canto
Oye mi canto
I believe in love but with no conditions
Oye mi canto
And giving in sometimes
Doesn't make it submission
Oye mi canto
Hate is so common it's almost tradition
Oye mi canto
Come on let's leave it behind
And make that transition
Oye mi canto
Oye mi canto
Oye mi canto
Oye mi canto
Oye mi canto...

- Gloria Estefan

autumn

The sigh of summer wheezes through the trees,
Too weary of its brazen, heat-stroked song;
It rests a beat and crumples to its knees
And with one hand it passes the baton.
A cooler breeze now lifts our morning heads
From pillows where we dream of warmer days,
It carries coloured infants to their beds
From branches where they once were apt to play.
Among the echoes of this season's dirge
There never was a sweeter anthem known:
A sense, despite the winter's future scourge,
That present joys are presently full grown.
Beauty shines from autumn's finite face -
Resplendent cornucopia of grace.

autumnal

I know I'm a little early. But I woke up this morning and a breeze blew through the kitchen window that didn't smell like summer anymore. It made me sneeze. My husband reminded me to wear something warm.

"I'm wearing a cardigan."

"Will that be enough?"

When I reached work and bent down to pick up the Globe and Mail from the front door a red-brown leaf stared up at me from the ground, as if to say, "Yes. It's that time again."

I've always loved the fall. Part of my love stems from an unabashed nerdiness - fall meant school and I loved school. Fall means Back to School shopping. Fall means stationary. Fall reminds me of Anne and Gilbert on The Bridge:
and of Kate and Paul's engagement last year two years ago:
and of High Park:
and of the annual Trinity College Book Sale:
and of the Woodbridge Fall Fair:
and of taking glamour shots on the side of the street in Anyang, and of playing in piles of leaves with my brothers on the front lawn, and of walking through the Glen Stewart Ravine on Thanksgiving day with my family, and of sitting on the grass at Erindale Campus eating my lunch between classes, and of the fireplace at Malvern, and of Bash the Pumpkin celebrations in the Rhema building of the YWAM base in Cambridge...

This morning, as I snuggled with my brand new husband, I knew this autumn promised to be the best yet.