Quotes

Christine: I just want to go to Dubai.
Philip: I just want to go to Montana.

*Bad Romance comes on over the speakers*
Lori: Dan, this isn't your music is it?
Dan: This is my music. But...

"What if you were ribs, and you were done and then someone else took a whole extra two minutes to get there and let you out of the oven, and you were like I'm done I'm done I'm done, and you were just sitting there in 400 degrees?"
- Nate

"It feels like it's fall because there are so many people here and I'm wearing pants."
-Izzy

Ann: You are the only person I've ever married.
Dana: I mean...I haven't seen proof.
Ann: What? Google Me.
Dana: I have.

*Sitting around at dinner*
Noah: Man, I found these sweet jean shorts of Danny's, they're soooo comfortable. So comfortable.
Mom: Let me see them....HEY, these are mine!
Noah: Well, Mom, you've got some comfortable jeans.
(Izzy sent that one)

You're a fighter forever, until one day, you're not, and there's nothing to throw punches at because someone stood up beside you.    I wish this was better news.

Tell my love to wreck it all, cut out all the ropes and let me fall.
Bon Iver

We meet in the kitchen by accident, taking pills in the dark, trying not to wake our family. My sister selects Tylenol, and I take 3 ibuprofen with a side of Mylanta and a shot of Captain.

We wonder what will happen.

We lock the door, and wonder what's next. I wonder what's next for me, for her, for John C. Reilly, for the state of Utah, for the valves in my car, for the valves in my heart, for the emails I'll get and I'll give, for what our hair will do in the summer-Illinois-humidity. In pursuit of God's best, in reluctance we try to sacrifice everything else.

In one year these problems will be a joke. Maybe. We'll still be moving forward unless murder. Unless tornadoes. Unless rapture. Unless it works out for true love or fake love or job opportunities and new addresses. To new life that gets newer and more complex in the changing biology of choices.

quotes Friday Tuesday

Me: I'm completely sober right now, but I can't get my iPod out of it's case to hook it up to my speakers and make it a white noise machine.
Roy: Bring it here. I'll help ya out Margie.
Me: Can that be my other nick name?
Roy: Do you like eggs? And also, do you like solving complex murders?

"I hate to namedrop, but I've been in Scottsdale."
-Judy, leaving me a voicemail

"I should carry contact solution and cases around with me, but then I guess I'd have to wear a fanny pack."
-Trox

"It's just like, how many Mongolian Empire leaders can you know?"
-Philip, watching Jeopardy

Wish I coulda been in my 20's in the 80's.
Wish I'd never met you.
Wish I could reconcile, wish I could sit still.
Wish I'd be strong and tall and stop spilling coffee on my shirts.

Love that I can't sleep, love that there are new mysteries left.
Love that I met you.
Love that I keep standing up to leave the room and that my legs keep carrying me forward.
Love that I'm messy and emotional and still feel something.

And Lord have mercy on me.

She looked up at him. "You really think the painter made it back to see her?"
     "Oh yes," Pasquale said, his voice hoarse with feeling.
     "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"
     And because he felt like he might burst open and because he lacked the dexterity in English to say all that he was thinking--how in his estimation, the more you lived the more regret and longing you suffered, that life was a glorious catastrophe--Pasquale Tursi said only, "Yes."
 -Beautiful Ruins, Jess Walter

I've been reading, running, watching excellent films. I've been drinking 5am French pressed coffee and then sticking the French press in my desk drawer. I've been missing school, been not missing school. I've been falling in and out of love each time he walks by me. Been praying. Been day dreaming so long that I stop blinking and my contacts fog up. Been making lists and been so afraid of the future that I have to get up and leave. Been calming back down. Been saying answers to Jeopardy questions. Been trying to wear socks to bed and then kicking them off in the night. Making mix tapes and then starting over with new songs. Been swimming a mile, and then starting over and swimming another mile.
And the heartburn has a life of it's own, I'm a monster, but I'm learning.

If everybody's thoughts showed up in a bubble over their heads, you'd find out a lot more people loved you than you thought.

Noah: How does my hair look going this direction?
Me: I knew you were going to ask me that, I was counting the minutes.
Noah: Yeah, I know. So I'm thinking about getting a solar panel.


Garrett starts putting on his coat.
Holden: Garrett, do you have a way to get home?
Garrett: Yeah, I drove here.

freedom

Sometimes I can't believe I'm 25 and still finding new things to surprise me and new people to love. Or old friends that you forgot were so wonderful and remembered all your best attributes. The air feels light, and my hear is racing from caffeine and being so happy. It's like waking up after a few years of thinking the style of the movie was going to stay a drama forever and now it's more like a BBC comedy.

A new kind of alive. Not in love, this is not about love. Or at least not romance. Just about new life.

Don't give up.

The last post I wrote was probably before I went to the doctor; she told me to lie down on the table, and then when I was pretty naked she started giving me chores to live better.

The stress starts to accumulate throughout the weekend, and then on Sunday morning I'm crying into my salad and so homesick for the farm that I fall asleep after work thinking I've suddenly gotten in the car and driven there while I'm asleep. Let go of my jobs and let the 100-year-old farm house wash my sins away on creaky bunk-beds, and the steadfast and hearty-spiritual feeling of drinking my grandfather's coffee that has grounds in the bottom of the pot. He is blind, he doesn't know about the sediment.

"No, sorry ma'am, that patient hasn't been here since 2011, their prescription is expired," a heavy Louisiana accent comes back to me, and I realize I've been breathing heavily on hold for two minutes, and that the call is recorded. I know it will later be audited (probably by Matt) and the auditor won't know the heavier sighs are coming from the homesickness, and he won't care.

But then comes a  new  prescription, and in small, happy letters, the words Scranton, PA flash across my monitor and I have to smile. God gives you happy little things to keep going. God is the auditor hearing my sighs and knowing how many days that I'm not going to get hit by a truck that is going through a red light on my way home.

And that's enough.

don't tell anyone I'm here, I've got Tylenol and beer.

Life is sweet, and pretty restful right now. 

I'm a force to be easily reckoned with. I sit around eating oranges in the extra hours that I get to myself. I am doing laps on easy street. I even do yoga sometimes before I stretch myself out under a new, bright yellow duvet in the afternoons after company subsidized steak-lunches. I know the next part could be fierce, and I will be strong when it comes, but it's really nice right now to drink coffee and listen to a book on tape and take the day off on my days off.

I'm living out my college dream of sitting in my room drinking tea and being an editor at 2:45pm on a Monday afternoon, and now my grown-up dream is to go back in time and become an accountant or an analyst or something where I'd have pants on at 2:45pm on a Monday afternoon.

hemingway and me

You promised I'd get to be a sailor, after I did all of the hard things we've all gotta do. You said we'd get away and eat fish raw from the ocean, and lay out on the deck under the big huge moon and drink wine til 3 in the morning. You said you'd cook me eggs for breakfast and we'd read in our bunk and every day would be Saturday in the same way that every day'd be Monday in all the good ways and all the bad ways that come of working hard and working with your hands and taking leisure very seriously and being in love and making someone else belong to you.

When you wake up, there are pieces missing from the story, and you're so thirsty for water and you have to pee and find yourself crying in the bathroom and you want the dreams to go away and everything smells like Lysol and there are pillow lines on your face.

In the real life we went in different directions for good reasons. You--too much a liberal and smirking, thinking me naive. Me, trusting in God supremely because I see the world dirtier than you do. The questions would have come up later, but I made them come up right away so we could save time getting back and used to being by ourselves for breakfast and lunch  and under trees and in hallways and having the whole bed to ourselves.

We won't get to go fishing, I think. We won't get out, even in a small boat so that we don't sink a ship.

so I could be happy

I feel pretty lighthearted today.
The weekend was good, the time change was hard.

I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep quickly on Sunday night, and that's always the time that you think of everything, right? I miss the farm so bad. I miss it, and I look forward to it, and I get up and make toast and coffee and go to work for it. The love of being home in the green hills and with my grandpa, and the smell of hay and grass, the way the sun sets in bursting stars through holes in the walls of the barns. Slipping away to eat an ice cream sandwich in the cellar. Finding a frog got into the bathroom from an open window. The thunder and lightning keeping you up at night and sharing a room with five people you love so much. The love of the sadness, the history, and how it keeps moving on as we lose people who go to our real home to be with Jesus. Patsy Cline at dinner time and drinking wine til 1 in the morning with a soldier and his Iraq baggage and his hopes and his fears. Running down gravel roads with cousins.

Those are the only dreams that I want to dream at night.

But God has given me gifts here too. Movies til 2 in the morning. Strong coffee. Surprise morning snow when I walk from building to building. A 3 hour conversation with an old buddy who makes me laugh. Rewatching The Office from the beginning. Freedom. Mid-day hangouts with my dad. Sunlight. Running outside again. Fancy dinners with Celisse. How fun my siblings actually are. My job.
The grass is so green, when it comes down to it.
Thank you God for your plan for it, even when it happens one day at a time.

song and dance

"STILL...two or more drinks a day do increase your chances of getting drunk."
-Megan

"They were playing Franz Ferdinand in every store. I was so proud of the mall."
-Izzy

----------------

Some days, the best that you do is to get furious, and then cool down with a third cup of coffee, and not say anything irrational.

To take a win or two where you can get them.

And one glass of wine and a call to your Judy at bedtime.

Windsday

The wind blew me in the front door and he smiled so big I could almost feel the cracks starting in his chapped lips, and a what a horrible punishment for someone so pleased to see me.

In his 30's, my dad said that his short term memory was getting shorter, but he was remembering all sorts of things from his childhood, even back to four years old. I never thought it would start happening to me, but I've started getting these little glimpses of my memories, and each one is a tiny, sweet present, like a piece of candy. And if my 30's come, and I start having more of those, then it won't be so bad to get old.

My weeks flash by so quickly. The wind keeps the air beautiful along the Wasatch, and every morning as I walk across my work campus to get my second cup of coffee, I worship my King for the gift of being here. Nights are hard, but mornings are such a relief and reward.

I pass the time to be with You, my Saviour.
Let my life glorify You, let my days be short, and my joy be from Your mercy and righteousness. The gifts You give me, and the trials You walk me through.

Thank You for clean water, for legs to run, for the kind of family other people covet, thank you for a little boy who is learning sign language and wants me to point out to him Your moon and stars, for smothered burritos, for the dream of going back to the country, for my freedom, for my chains, and for all the mysteries in between that keep me up at night.

rutina de las noches viernes

Every Friday night like clockwork, my old coworker friend Krista sends me a Snapchat of a cocktail with the caption, "TGIF". We never talk otherwise, and I need it to always be this way.

What do I do every Friday night? Typically I work and work, then watch Jeopardy with my parents. Tonight I made bread again and thought what a good wife I would be, because I know how to run a Kitchen-aid. And then I remember that being a wife is more complicated then throwing flour and water in a mixer and that actually I am probably a bad wife because I work 49 hours a week, I buy whatever I want when I'm at Target, I'm terrified of children, and I regularly eat Little Debbie snack cakes for breakfast without caring if it builds a wall of cholesterol around my heart (which my friend's mother-in-law, not even MY mother-in-law sends me regular emails about, and how I'm going to die and that I should really be thinking more about the future and dating guys that don't interest me) and then Jeopardy is over and I go back to work til 8 pm. Usually after this I take a melatonin so that I can pass out before I start stalking old coworkers/high school mates/ex-admirers on Facebook.

Tonight though, I did take Jack on a prayer walk with me, while the bread was rising for an hour.
It's not the same as Rush. Nothing will ever be the same as my times with Rush, but God did give me a breathtaking, icy sunset over the western mountains, and Jack didn't poop which would've never happened with Rush. I did work til 8 pm again, but I finished Hemingway's Garden of Eden and here I am, still awake at 11:30 and having to deal with what I'm actually thinking about like normal people do, as they lay in bed and process their day. I hate to be alone with my thoughts, hence the routine melatonin, Benedryl, Captain Morgan. But here I am without it.

And what I think is:

contrary to what I wanted 4 weeks ago (which was to buy a plot of land in the canyons, become a work-at-home agent, spend all my nights with books instead of people, plot a garden, and build my own cabin) is to keep running hard. To keep being stressed out and dealing with Heavy-Heart-Connor-Oberst-Syndrome, and to keep saying yes to things that I shouldn't say yes to. Continuar siendo un guerrero. 
I'm coming to get it. To get at it.

on the mountain

"I think I'm rooting for the Broncos, but I'm enjoying football."
-Ned during the Superbowl

I'm really happy lately. Not sleeping well, but joyful all the same. Excited about the church plant and everything that will lead up to that point.

And I love my new job, still. Every early morning, I walk through the doors while the lights are still low, make my cup of Via, pour a bowl of lucky charms, and sit at my desk and just sigh. I'm so happy God gave it to me.

This time last year I was struggling with the blues, and trying to hope in the future. But God uses those time to build a foundation. And here we are, finally come out the other side and it is a spectacular view.

Always busy. Always coffee. Always growing more in love with my Christian brothers and sisters, and asking God for a softer heart than I had the day before.

Maybe there is nothing interesting about carrying on.

Free donut Sunday at work. Brand new running shoes bright with the promise of the miles I will run this year. Combing my hair. Drinking extra water after giving blood. Singing along to songs in the car with Noah.

Sometimes you try really hard to create something extraordinary that will take you somewhere else and you get lightheaded standing up. But there is reward in being faithful in ugly, slow, boring January seasons.

I looked around the room last night, waiting, and hoping for something to take the breath out of my lungs and to feel something serious. It didn't happen. But when I got home, in the quiet moments with a shot of Captain Morgan, I stood on the back porch in my bathrobe. Izzy had dug out an old family telescope and left it out there, and I tried to find the huge-but-waning moon. In the valley, you can't see much of the stars for the city lights, so I knew it wasn't going to be the Atacama Desert like Moss talked about a few months back but you might always underestimate the Moon that you will find.

The air did get caught in my lungs; and I love that my gut reaction is always, "Oh Father, how magnificent--how big you really are." Because He set the moon in the sky, close enough for us to see. For us to somehow get in a spaceship and visit like a neighbor. How large the universe is-- it keeps going and baffles the men on NPR and in front of auditoriums full of college students. Whether or not they admit it.
I pity Moss, to think he got here by an accident and try to sleep with that every night, and not have a relationship with the God who formed him out of dirt.

The  craters  on  the  moon.
I could see them close as if they were just Provo or Logan's distance away.

Maybe there is nothing interesting in carrying on.
But you put on your pajamas at night, take your pills and brush your teeth, and you get one day closer to being finished marveling in faith. Closer to being awestruck face to face. And it's nice to check that off of the calendar.

(The Atacama Desert. It deserves a trip to Chile.)

she makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down

"You had a bad day, Rachel," he says, looking at the numbers, pulling his mouse unnecessarily high off the desk as he clicks through spreadsheets of red and green.
"I'm kind of discouraged," I told him.
"Powers are really your Achilles heel. You just gotta double check," he turns to me.
To triple check.
I don't know how all of the pieces of life come together.
My dad is standing over a frozen patch of our backyard at this point, and dumping hot water out of the hot tub, to soften the ground. To make another winter grave for a dearly loved dog-friend.

"I can be strong," I say in different ways, sitting in the front seat of my car for two hours with a friend who needs someone to listen to her.
I whisper it, while she talks, to the sun that is slowly creeping towards 4:00p.m. above the mountains.
"And it was like Bill says, the curtain was pulled back and I caught a glimpse of the glory of God, Rachel."

It caught me off guard.

I thought to myself, when was the last time I caught a glimpse? Or even looked for a glimpse? I forgot that those moments even happened, and how many months have I wasted in the last 4 or 5 years not trying to be vulnerable enough to ask for those?

I want to get invested. I want to wake up.
Here I am, Lord. Show me a new thing.

On the Farm

Vacation officially started. Redbox rentals, brand new tooth brush, Aussie friends, Mac n Cheese, Captain Morgan and a beautiful snowy day.

God has richly blessed me.

quotes Friday

"I might have to never remember that."
-Elaine's cousin Alvin, to Moss who was trying to give a science lesson none of us wanted to hear

"Well, babies probably like water, because they're humans too."
-Megan

Me: Has anybody been nice to that girl, that's a girl?
Izzy: Yeah. Emma invited her to live with them.

"I don't cry here."
"Nope."
"I cry at home."
- 3 year old talking optimistically to her mom at Target

------------------------

The state of my life is that I wish I was always working, or always sleeping. I think I will want a personal life again in a few weeks.

I think.

I'm going to take a vacation and stay at a farm for a few days and pretend I'm deeper in the country than I am. I'll feed the ducks and turkeys and chickens. I'll muddy my boots. I'll read books.

It's a good life, and you can really feel it if you breathe in and out and look around and laugh at how hard it is.

This is nothing like it was in my room, in my best clothes

I don't have much to say. The little I do have catches in my throat when I walk down the hallways.

I went back to the early morning shifts and wearing my glasses, and the astonishing, relieving quiet before the sunrise.

I will be the basic version. I'll smile and be kind and hold my head up.