live this year like its my last

Thinking about what i would resolve to do in 2008 i decided to write this. i started with the usual...lose weight, better handle my money, read the bible more, you know the usual....but the last thing i wrote stood off the page....live this year like it is my last...
with the events that have unravelled in the last month of my life i see things with different eyes. i know what my heart is telling me and has been for sometime. i have seen martyrdom up close ... i know it sounds dramatic but without exageration, this is what this was. it is not a feel good story, not a ccm magazine article of the week, not chicken soup for the soul.tiff and phil died because they loved the Lord and were living a life that most of us wouldnt have thought of because they wanted to serve Him as best they knew. matthew was a pained and disturbed guy who had given himself over to his own demons long ago. he shot them because of their faith and nothing else.
holly did cpr on tiffany minutes before she died...she brought her back for about five minutes. laying there in her own blood she asked how bad she was...holly seeing the seven bullet wounds knew she should tell the truth. "tiff you are pretty bad." tiffany looked up at her and said unwaveringly..."this is what its all about,this is what we do it for isnt it...we do it for Jesus..." she went on to ask Dan to tell her a story as she would always do when she was bored, or tired, or just wanted to hear him talk, and then she died.
tuesday when i entered the hallway, it was fresh with spackle and paint to remove any reminder of two nights prior.standing there i knew something. i have been hiding. i have been hiding in a normal life...doing the normal thing because i was scared. i also knew that the echoes in that hall would change my life. I went to denver to pray with and cry with my dear friends. but also i went to denver to remind me of who i am. i am tiffany. i am phil. i am dan and charlie.
i hope to live to a long old age and never have to experience anything near the events of that night but...the only thing that would be worse than dying a martyr would be to be living scared. so long story short. i am inspired. i am inspired to quit procrastinating, quit putting off for when it will be "easier"... inspired to live this year like it was my last. ...throw off the security blanket and go. its time.

merry christmas

and it never seems to lose its magic

how it ends

Hold your grandmother’s bible to your breast
Gonna put it to the test
You wanted it to be blessed
And in your heart You know it to be true
You know what you gotta do
They all depend on you
And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end
There is no escape
From the slave catcher’s songs
For all of the loved ones gone
Forever’s not so long
And in your soul
They poked a million holes
But you never let them show
Come on its time to goAnd you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end
Now you’ve seen his face
And you know that there’s a place in the sun
For all that you’ve done
For you and your children
No longer shall you need
You always wanted to believe
Just ask and you’ll receive
Beyond your wildest dreams
And you already knowYet you already know
How this will end
You already know (You already know)
You already know (You already know)
You already know
How this will end

clarity

after the cameras leave, and the holes are patched, reality sets in ... i pray that i too may never see things so clearly. tiffany and phil saw this clarity before they died. i pray i will live with it from here on.

no longer crime scene but the tears still fall

this will change us all. walking in that hallway with the smell of fresh paint and the gun powder still in the air there was a peace. God was there. breathing...causing our hearts to pulsate. and we hug and hold on as if we may never see the other again. we tell each other we love them. that we are glad they are here...because we see life different tonight.

i am not prepared

at 3 we are having a worship service at FBC and then walking over and praying over the base. i am a little scared and a little worried. I dont know if i know how to even prepare for this.

eye of the storm

its wierd to be here. the place that has been my home so long ago, but now what seems like in ruins. i have spent the last day and a half glued to the tv. for new stories, leads, anything. now i am sitting in the middle of it. and its quiet. like the eye of the storm. God only knows what the days ahead will hold. here it is ready or not.

devestated

i have no words. i am on my way to denver to cry and pray with my friends. my family away from family. i feel like i need to own this loss. these people are my people. this tragedy is mine.

"so are you going to tell me what is up or do i have to keep prying."
"nothing is up."
"well you are packing all your stuff at 2 am so clearly something is up."
you fight like ernie.
"what does that mean?"
"you are a mean fighter. you hit below the belt."
"what does that mean?"
i can only tell when your offeneded in public. you bring things up in front of people you think are cool to make me look bad.
"is this about the rent thing?"
"you have brought that up with every person we hang out with."
"we were joking about you moving in with ally . i said ...good luck getting the rent...it was a joke."
"you have brought up the rent thing so many times. why do you think im moving home? so you would quit bringing it up. then i realize you are always going to bring this up. i hadnt said anything up to now because you did a nice thing. but all that goes away when you treat me like that."
"well michele the truth of the matter is that you have paid me about 350 dollars of 700 dollars you owed me. its not a big deal. i dont care. its just the truth."
"if it isnt a big deal why bring it up?
"why wouldn't you have told me before now?"
" i cant confront you."
"your doing it right now arent you?"
"because i am at my edge."
"im sorry you felt you had to wait that long."
"i share everything with you. you keep stuff from me."
"i internalize. its how i proccess."
"your not going to keep friends by doing that."
"what can i say? its who i am its how i proccess. if you dont understand that im sorry."
"and then you bring up the thing about me being in retarded classes."
(im not even sure who that was said in front of honestly)
" look im sorry you feel that way"
...tension growing...she starts in about something else.
"look. im going to go home. you do what you need to do and ....i dont know call me sometime."
"laurie dont leave. just go to sleep or something."
"no im going home. bye."
" dont leave mad..."
"im not leaving mad im leaving hurt.."
....long pause as i gather my stuff
"you cant keep running away from everything."
walking towards the door..."now THAT i take personally."

springtime in sarajevo

my first days in bosnia were filled with excitement. We had cookouts, met for coffee in the city, toured the streets and explored our new world.the few bosnians we knew were eager to show us their city, their food, and their culture. there was a yonger boy named aldin, a muslim ,who'd befriened some other americans we knew during the war and had kept a relationship with us because his father wanted to ensure that had things become unsafe again Aldin would have a way out. Then their was Vaska. A stunning woman in her forties that looked about ten years older than she actually was. She was a war widow with two kids in their teens. She was sweet and very motherly to all of us. She was an amazing cook who spoke very little english but what she lacked in communication she made up for in hospitality. Then there was Dzenan, also a young muslim boy who had converted to Christianity after the war. Dzenan's mother was Croatian, his father was bosnian. That was the story with a lot of those living in Sarajevo. We all wanted to draw the ethnic lines so that we knew who belonged to who and worshiped what....but it wasnt about that. it never was. As the late spring thaw began to finally take we started to feel at home in our new city. We began to learn bits and pieces of the language. Figured out how to ride the tram, get to the grocery store, go to the movies. We learned how to live. We prayed and sang a lot in those days. It was as if God lived on the hill above Bascarsija, and he came and sat in our living rooms day in and day out.

cumunjua bridge, our first day out in the city

the beginning of a story ill one day tell my grandchildren

when i was 20 i thought i could change the world. i worked for a missionary organization in denver colorado and lived like one of those hippie communes minus the drugs plus a lot of Jesus. we were all under thirty and recklessly hopeful. i joined a team that was heading to bosnia within the year. one day in march we hopped on plane and the next thing i knew i was a riding on a bus through the city of sarajevo wondering what the hell i had just done. up until that point i couldnt tell you one thing about bosnia other than it was in europe and they had a war ten years or so ago. honestly my only memory of that war was watching a news program with bill clinton and hearing my mom grumbling about helping the muslims. now i was riding through this town that looked like the war had just ended yesterday. i remember thinking that it reminded me a lot of mexico just with a lot of holes in the buildings. upon entering our apartment i looked wide eyed from the balcony down into the city as i heard the first call to prayer. in those days refugees and landmines and mass graves and genocide were coffee shop talk. how does a 20 year old american girl ever take in the events that happened in this city....thats a whole nother post for a whole nother day.

on a lighter note

Four jobs I've had:
+ bagger at a grocery store
+ diner waitress
+ humanitarian aid worker
Four movies I can watch over and over:
+Vfor Vendetta
+Youve got Mail
+Anchorman
+Grandmas boy
Four places I have lived:
+Pickerington ,Ohio
+Monroe, North Carolina
+Denver ,Colorado
+Sarajevo, Bosnia and Hercegovina
Four TV shows I love to watch:
+ Greys Anatomy
+the OC
+ The Office
+ Curb Your Enthusiasm
Four places I have been on vacation:
+ Jerusalem, Israel
+ Dubrovnik, Croatia
+ Grand Cayman Islands
+ Alcupoco, Mexico
Four of my favorite dishes:
+ Eggplant parmasean
+ Mac N Cheese
+ Coffee
+ Grilled Cheese
Four websites I visit daily:
Myspace.com
Facebook.com
hypem.com
brooklynvegan.com
Four places I would rather be right now:
drunk

the redeffinition of family

i woke up early yesterday morning. put on my hat, scarf, and favorite hoodie stepped out the the door into the late november chill. i stopped by starbucks and then decided to go out and buy a christmas tree and all the trim. i debated decorating for christmas at all with michele moving out it would be just me in the apartment and seemed almost redicoulous to go all out just for me . but after a mental debate with the questions of being alone for the rest of my life and the vow to myself of not living like half a person because of a lack of significant other i went out and bought all the fixins. i went home and decked out the house. it is beautiful and warm and feels like something out of a movie. this year has been wierd for me. with mom remarrying and the third anniversary of dads death i feel like my family is redefining itself and its akward and hard and a little painful. ron moved in to moms the week before thanksgiving on thanksgiving day julie and i went over to moms as we do every holiday and rons parents came down. there is always an uneasiness in the house now as if we are always in the presence of a stranger. the sentiment was even more apparent with rons parents there. old people can be difficult sometimes.they fight, the repeat themselves alot, and often say innapropriate things. when they are your grandparents you have patience for them. they are family and there is something endeering about there somewhat senial ways. but when they are not family it grates on your nerves and you are always unsure of what to say, and always seconds from telling them to "shut the hell up". maybe things would be different if i were at a different place in life. if i were married or had kids the deffintion of family wouldnt lie soley on my sister and mom. possibly it be easier to except my moms deep desire not be alone if i were myself not alone. myabe...but then again maybe not.

heart-body-crema-paycheck

verisimo
Originally uploaded by lauriejog

i spend to much time here

mental movies when memories fail

i stopped to get some coffee at starbucks on the way. if i was going that way it would take a bit longer . it was ok. it was sunday and i had nowhere to be in a hurry. as i drove down main st. i came up on it. the cemetary i havent been too in some time. i used to go quite often after he died. important days like fathers day, his birthday, his and moms anniversary ect. but since i moved to grandview i hadnt gotten out there for a while. as the cemetary approached i decided to turn in. when i got out and walked over to his grave i stood there for a few minutes feeling the biting cold of the pre thanksgiving damp november chill. i reached down and swept away the leaves that had gathered on his gravestone. almost as if it was methodical tradition i ran my finger over the etching in the stone....letting my fingers slowly spell out G-R-A-N-G-E-R. I made a mental note of how the grass still growing in looked so different from the rest of the grass around me and how much it looked like the grass at our old house. as if he had it transplanted soley for his plot. standing there i began to cry . i began to vocalizethe feelings of mom remarrying and all the buzz around the house with ron moving in and the coming holiday and stepsisters and new last names and his picture replacing dads on the tv. and then i became silent. and cried. i was mad...that i as well as everyone else was beginning to forget dad. i was losing the memories. they were becoming more and more distant. i sat his grave for a moment longer. gathered my thoughts and made my way over to moms. that night at joshua house i sat through a fairly boring sermon. as we got up to pray at the end a wave washed over me. memories of my dad drinking coffee out on the porch, laying on the floor playing ball with the dog, sitting in his chair waving at me, riding the lawnmower, and cooking dinner. after the prayer was over i thanked God for mental movies when memories fail.

night terrors

i had the strangest dream last night. i fell asleep with the tv on and am just hoping there was a weird movie on tv or something. i was in my old house and there were a lot of people there. i dont even know why. all of a sudden there were a few asian men in the house shooting people left and right ...there were also shots coming from the windows. everyone was bleeding and laying on the ground and everyone who wasnt shot was running around like mad trying to get out of the house. i remember lying down and playing dead as one of the men was making a second round through the house. as soon as he left i followed someone else out on the front door. once i got out there i could see there was a truck stopped across the road three doors down. as people left and ran out of the house there were men there with automatic weapons shooting people and quite literally pumping them full of lead. i remember running and feeling shots and falling on the ground. it rained or the grass was slippery and as i lay i began to slide down the hill twoard the ditch. i played dead again and waited for the men to all hop in the truck and drive farther down the street as they did i got up and walked laboursly down to the end of the neighborhood. turned left and started to go down 204 and saw a man obvoiously stealing an old abandoned truck and hotwiring it. i asked him for a ride to krogers and he let me get in the back. as he drove up the road there was a checkpoint at 204 and diley. i knew it was over for me because i was clearly bleeding and frazzled and would not be able to make it through. i layed down in the truck and from what i could tell passed out ( or woke up and rolled over) the next scene was a group of us down south ( maybe florida or new orleans) and talking about how we were not able to go back because of these men. i woke up somewhere after that and was cold and in my apartment. i got up off the couch and went to bed. the rest of the night i was paranoid and scared. i heard someone up and moving around at 4 am and layed there eyes wide open. all of this proves one thing...well two. i need to lay off the weed and the war books before bed.

i feel compelled to go. like i have carried this for too long. i have carried this for too long.

live through this

and you wont look back.

a dialouge of sorts

justin: tell me whats going on with you.
me: what do you mean?
justin: well...you know everyone we grew up with are on a certain path.
me: which one is that?
justin: the married, babies, good job...you know
me: ok.
justin: you seem not to be going down that path. you know that alanis morrisette song that says we all need that object to crave. i mean the people here ...its pretty clear what there thing is ( looking around a phrat bar with drunk 20-30 somethings)...so whats yours?
me: well...if the question is why arent you married? i guess its because im not. it just hasnt been in the cards for me. would i like to? sure. but i dont want to live like a half a person. as for the rest of it...i guess i could some it up im just wierd. but whatever....i am what i am. i want to live on the other side of the earth in a mud hut and not worry about 401ks and pottery barn for kids. i dont know. i guess im just wierd.

When Grief Looks Like Fear
Josh WeichhandA year ago my dad passed away unexpectedly. It was so sudden that I still have a hard time believing he really went anywhere. It seems more likely he’s been away on business, working holidays, and when we’re both home we have terrible timing, coincidently walking into the kitchen just as the other’s left. Adjustment can feel like that when the other options seem that much more attractive.I think it’s fair to say that it’s more likely I just don’t want to admit reality. I’m afraid to say he’s really gone because if that’s the truth, then that means I have to move on in life. If he’s really not coming back, what excuse do I have for staying where I am?After his wife passed away from cancer, C.S. Lewis wrote in his book A Grief Observed, “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” It’s a brilliant truth in its simplicity. You feel this fear in every facet—in your suddenly unstable seeming future, in the advent of loneliness and in the inevitability of tomorrow. You fear for your family, for your finances or for your emotional state. All of which are valid emotions, emotions that come naturally with tragedy. But the problem with keeping these worries around too long is that fear can take form in feebleness and uncertainty in your next steps. Fear can slowly erode your drive and weigh you down even to the point where suddenly any new possibility frightens you.I admit to living in this fear. I mean, with time I felt confident in the strength of our family and assured in God’s plan, but I would be lying to say I’m free of the bonds completely. I can feel the apprehension to move ahead in my heart. I have been so afraid that I’m unprepared for what’s ahead or that I will lose sight of what has already happened. I constantly wonder if I can step into these roles of responsibility. I wonder if others can depend on me in the absence of that missing table setting. What if I forget my dad’s memory, his smell, the sound of his voice or the feeling of his love? I still feel this in my life even on this 1 year anniversary and it’s more real than I’d like to admit.But in the wake of it all, I remember Jesus’ words in Matthew, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.”And in this I find some comfort. Grief is a process, one that can take forms in many emotions, fear being one of them. And even after a year I realize it is still a process. On this anniversary I may still feel the fear of what is to come, but I don’t have to live in it, and I may feel the apprehension, but I don’t have to be idle in it. Let Christ worry about our tomorrows, and in time, the rest will follow.



i could have written this article. i have said , and wrote, and felt the exact same thing. its eerie. i think this explains so much. so much of where i am. i had forgotten what fear does even as i am in the midst of it.

type the first thing that pops in your mind

there is a lot happening in my head. i just got off the phone and cemented my plans for the future. part of me sighs with relief the other part is freaking out. back to that world. back to that life. back to the life i once knew. march. choose a path laurie...choose a path...i chose it. i ended the war. i will not live with a what if...i will not hide again...i know what i was made to do. i could opt the easy way out. i could sit here in my mess and jump on the life carousel or burn it down and walk away. that phone call was the match. no starting wage. no 401k . no security. so why do i feel so secure. im rambling and mumbling at the same time. im here and there . im back and forth. man...i sound crazy.

love and marrige

when he died i never expected to be the mom in the family. i knew that for a period of time id have to be the strong one. the one that was "there" for everyone, but i didnt know the roles would change so much. i was there and it was akward. he started to mumble something about how much he cared about my mom and something about a ring and my blessing. i gave it with tears not of joy but of pain. the vivid memory of my father flashed before my eyes. i found the fastest way out of there. and i as i drove home i cried. really cried...much more than i have in sometime. somewhere in my head i kept thinking how obnoxious there new love was and how unfair it was. it may very well be selfish but i was being honest. why was it that i would have to not only watch all my friends marry off one by one but my own mom. when does it get ever get good for me? when do i get to share my happy life with someone else? when do i get past the " just make it through this stage".

abandoned cities of my heart

abandoned bombed out cities. i remember the sight. riding with matt and dayna in the little vw golf on our way to dubrovnik and watching in awe. the view of these cities that were once inhabited and also once on the front lines. not touched in a decade. the more i think of those forgotten cities i cannot help but think that it is a memory of what i am feeling in my heart lately. empty, abandoned, eerie, scary, damaged. what a vivid memory for a vague moment in my life. burned into my memory with the detail that even the best photograph could not match.

im going.

asleep at the switch

im not ready for her to remarry. im not ready to have another man living in my parents house. im not ready for a holiday with a stranger. but my emotions are spent so i say nothing do nothing and watch my world spin around me

do i stay or do i go now?

Hey Laurie!

We miss you a ton!

Thanks for writing. Man, we’ve been crazy busy. Yeah.we’re here in England getting training with kids.

I’ll be coming to denver alone next week. The kids and norma couldn’t make it. It’ll be a one week swing, then I come back to England. crazy.

We have been thinking about you a lot lately. Daniel asked about you two days ago. We are leaving for Scotland in a few minutes, so I gotta run. But we need to catch up.

What’re ya up to these days? Have any plans?

Blessings,

Chris

i recieved this email today from my team leader in bosnia. the wrenching always happens when i see his email pop up. the wrenching that screams inside of me....you know where you should be. life has changed and turned and become something different since those days...my sarajevo days. i stand at a crossroads... i am on the brink of a major promotion with my job. interviewing for a management position. my mom is remarrying. my lease is soon again to be up. and i sit here with the pounding in my heart telling me....laurie you've got something good here. dont throw away all this work. the pounding also says...remember your life? remember who you are? remember that place? why does my heart ache still so much for it? this is the truth ....without gloss. im scared. im scared of that life again. im scared ill end up back on that side of the earth and so homesick that every calling, every good motivation, every word from God is drowned. ive experienced it. ive lived it. the fear is real because it has happened. the truth is i dont know if i can do this again. the truth is i am (and have been for some time) torn. i stayed the night at my moms house last night and was awoken at 630 this morning and couldnt figure out why. i got up and made coffee and couldnt figure out why there were tears running down my face. what are these tears for....do i stay or do i go?