random slice on conservative Calvinist culture.

At times, I get frustrated by this culture. It's not the theology I have a problem with-- if you were to sit down and talk with me, you'd definitely realize that it's not the theology--it's the culture. It's the culture where everything is black and white, and time isn't taken to explore the grey areas before making a decision. It's a culture of pride and of needing to be "right" and where saying "I'm not sure, I'm still thinking about this." is never heard. It's a culture that, in large part, has forgotten the combination of grace AND truth. For a time, I was deeply entrenched in this culture, and so I speak, not as an outsider to this culture, but rather, as someone who has definitely played a role inside this culture.

I get frustrated by the amount of theological pride that exists in this culture. A couple of weeks ago, I was at a conference, and there was a group of people who were constantly ripping apart different preachers. They ripped apart preachers who weren't at the conference, and ripped apart preachers who were speaking at the conference. They would sit around, after the talk was given, and take the individual's talk down, one peg at a time. And when given the opportunity to say something to the preacher, they would remain silent. When asked about their silence, they would reply with excuses like "Oh, I don't think it's necessary.." or "Well... I have to read up more about this person first.."

I have definitely been guilty of doing this before. When I first started thinking about these theological issues, I was always criticizing certain preachers for not upholding Calvinism--i mean, how could they not be (that was facetious, by the by)-- or for being too harsh or too soft, or not doing this or not doing that.
However, I have been convicted this past year about how little I actually know. I have been convicted by Ephesians 4:29, which says "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear."

For some reason or another, God has put me in a position where I am so privileged and humbled to be able to disciple girls, and teach people about the character of God. With this, comes the necessity of correcting theological errors, while at the same time, being careful not to confuse errors with differences in theological persuasions. In discipleship, especially this year, I have come to realize the vast responsibility and "power" that I have. I have seen my sinful and critical heart be passed on to people I have discipled, who in turn develop a critical and un-grace-filled heart. I think caution needs to be exercised when we, as Christians, open our mouths to speak. For an unbeliever, there is an "excuse" to b*tch about celebrities, friends, etc. But for Christians, we are held to a higher standard, and sometimes, we think a difference in theological persuasion is reason enough to be able to b*tch. Even when it comes to errors in theology, grumbling and complaining and immediately taking apart a person in public, without speaking to them first, isn't the way to do it (a la Matt 18:15, 1 Tim 5:1, 17-21).

It takes a huge dose of maturity and humility to commit to these things, when, it is so much harder--especially when everyone else is b*tching--to step back and not be a part of this. It takes maturity to enter into "conflict resolution" and approach another person and say, "I have some concerns about what you are teaching. This seems to be what you are saying:_____. Is this true? If so, this is what the Bible says:__________. If not, can you give me some clarity?"

We need to pray and ask that James 3:13 becomes true in our lives. I want a harvest of righteousness to be sown.

gold and travel.

so, last night i missed the men's eight. long story. anyways, i just watched it....and seriously, I cried at the end when they won!!

must be the lack of sleep.

***

I'm really tired of travelling. I just told a friend of mine, that all I want is to sleep in my own bed for five weeks straight. Sadly, for the next three days, I will be on a staff retreat/planning time somewhere out in the boonies. Then, I'm back for about 8 days, and then off to my church leadership retreat for 4 days. I'll be here for all of September, but then in October, I'll be gone one weekend for summit (our fall retreat), one weekend for one wedding and the next weekend for another wedding. I'll be here in November, but don't even get me started about December!

I dislike being this transient.

i can't really draw to save my life..

but sometimes i really get a kick out of doodling. (click for normal resolution)

lovely people.

Tonight was a really nice night. I went to Starbucks and had a date with God..and just did some doodling and pouring out of my heart. Then, I met up with some new friends, who feel like they've been friends forever and a half...and just had a good time of talking about God and life..and taking MASSLOADS of pictures.

A night like tonight was just what I needed. I've been going through a hard time, dealing with some really hard things that are going on in my life. Things that, believe it or not, I'm not ready to disclose to the internet world..or even to most people. Only a really select group of people know, and I didn't choose these people based on how close to me they are (so if you don't know what's going on, don't be offended!!)...but on some other factors. So tonight was great. After a really horrible day of just thoughts racing through my head, it was good to just be silly and be with people.random picture i doodled at starbucks....converted to vector..then to jpg.

the la banquise crew. More pics from this random night viewable on my facebook.

on women in the church.

Something I have been thinking about lately is the role of women in the church. I used to have pretty set standards on what I thought should/should not occur, but lately, I've been thinking about this more. I want to have convictions that stem from the Bible and not from the culture I live in. I also want to apply these gleanings practically to my life. And so, the question is, how does this happen?

If there is one well trained, well-equipped and well-versed woman, and a handful of men, but men who are neither well-trained, nor well-equipped, nor well-versed, how does that woman equip and empower those men for a lifetime of service? Some might say, "Well, just step back and let them lead..they'll figure it out.." Which might work out on a theoretical level..but at some point, the blind can't lead the blind...and this might be a nice and easy solution on the outside, but, take it from someone who has been there. It doesn't work. So.. does she lead and call the shots? How does this fit into the conservative Christian paradigm?

Let me know your thoughts.

Random thought on translation.

You know, a lot of work goes into translating a booklet into a different language. I've never taken much notice of this, but I've been busy helping out with the conversion of this
booklet into French. I received the translation, and had to put it into the existing design. Sounds easy, right?

Wrong. French is a very verbose language (or so it seems!) and so once translated, there's twice as much text as the english version! This is a problem when you input something into a design that has already been custom made for something in English. Also, logos need to be redone, since they're done in English and need to be designed in French. Then comes all the text revision! I'm SO grateful for our team over in Quebec City. I don't even know how I wouldn't go crazy, editing over and over and over again. All the minute details that need to be checked out...insane. Last week, when I was inputting the French into InDesign, the program didn't recognize the hyphens from Microsoft Word..so I had to manually search 28 pages of text and input all the hyphens..and let me tell you, there are A MASSLOAD of hyphens in French!!!!

[edit: I just submitted the final revision *crosses fingers* of the booklet 2 minutes ago. You know, the reason why I love design so much is because the results are so tangible. Unlike working with people, you see the results of your work almost immediately, and when you're done, you're done. The quality of your work often correlates directly to how much time you spend working on the goods, tweaking and correcting. The one hour you spend choosing a font definitely pays off at the end. Anyways, it feels good to almost be done this project. Namely, because this means that the french ministry will have these in time for frosh week, AND because after spending a good 40 hours on this booklet, sometimes looking at it for a good 4-5 hours a day...it'll be nice to bid it farewell!]

and here's something i did for t-shirts this week... productivity feels so good.

tween.

Some days, I live the life of a full fledged adult: I think about things like home insurance, I pay my bills, I do groceries and cook for one, I think about budgeting and leases. Other days, I live the life of a child, cowering under my sheets, telling my parents not to get off the line with me because I'm convinced a monster is in my closet (read: man in the house).

I kid you not, this happened just last week, when my power unexpectedly cut out at 1am in the morning. And I know you might laugh at this and think, "Silly little Lydia." But hey, just yesterday, there were a multitude of cop cars in the alley right behind my house. And obviously, the police must think my neighbourhood is a sketch pad, because they've totally increased patrolling in my area. Some say this should give me comfort.

It doesn't.

To me, it says that the police are thinking what I'm thinking, "Wow, this neighbourhood is TOTALLY sketchy and is getting more sketchy, so we'd better do something about it fast before we get whipped with a lawsuit the size of Kentucky."

I digress.

See, this is the problem. I'm a girl stuck in my early twenties, living the life of someone in their mid-twenties, but at times just wishing I could go back to the bank of m&d and build invincible forts with blankets. So what small group at church do I go to?

Do I go to the one where everyone is in their mid-late twenties, married and churning out kids like wonka bars, but also thinking about home insurance, bills, leases and how to unclog the kitchen sink? Or do I go to the one where everyone is around my age, or just a bit younger, but still living the life of a university student where the bank of m&d is still open, where mum and dad (generally) aren't half a country away and where, in some cases, the hardest thing about cooking isn't the cooking (because the cooking stage isn't even accessible), but the cutting of mushrooms and the opening of cans of frozen concentrate. And this is the question: fun vs. challenge. Because let's be honest, maturity isn't all that fun. Home insurance isn't all the fun you might think it is, and though budgeting may sound like an adventure and a half, I'm pretty sure that unless you're a yellow on the Birkman, it isn't all it's cracked up to be. But there's some sort of a challenge missing, when the topic of the day is poo: the colour of poo, the smell of poo, the texture of poo.

I suppose this is what inevitably happens when you're a tween. Britney, I never thought I'd agree with you, but you're right. I'm not a girl, and I'm not yet a woman. Props to you. *punches fist in the air and then gags.*

tomorrow.

Little steps to healing. Fighting to believe that healing is possible. Fighting aloneness.

Tomorrow I am going to wake up with a sense of purpose. I will be out of the house by 10. I will plunk myself down at a coffee shop, be with Jesus, and do design work all day. On my way there, I will take my roll of medium format film and take pictures. I will listen to good music and do some sketching and maybe go shopping.

The promise of tomorrow is bright. Unless it rains.



p.s. i just had a wonderful idea for a picture in my head...so if you are a couple..currently dating or engaged or married..and you live in monts or tronts, let me know. haha.

18. B.D.I.

The first time I suspected that this might be the case was at the beginning of my second year of university. It was September the fifth, and I was standing at the bus stop, just off 1420 Birchmount. I thought to two years before, and all the signs and symptoms were the same.
The next time I faced this was in my last year of university. Two years later. Each time, six months.

Now it is summer. I can feel it creeping in again. By fall, just in time for my birthday, it will hit full force again.

On July 30th, what I knew all along was made official. Eighteen is the new number that defines me. By September, I can almost guarantee the new number will be between 25 and 28.

It's funny, because I've lived with this for so long, it just seems normal. I can't imagine life not being like this, but I hear that "normal" life is far different. Maybe one day I'll experience "normal".

"Weeping may tarry for the night,
but joy comes with the morning."

9.

i'm sick again for the 9th month in a row. seriously, what are the chances?

18.

i found something out about myself yesterday.
something i've known for a long time, but have never verbalized.

it was devastating.

i saw the dark knight.

Some friends and i went to see it yesterday. oh my freaking gosh, it was PHENOMENAL. If Ledger doesn't deserve an oscar, i seriously don't know who does.

Does anyone recognize that the scene with the boats....was totally a game theory moment (chicken, anyone?)? I was sitting in my seat at that point, and honestly, the only thing i was thinking of...was how to predict what was going to happen using game theory.

I'm sorry, nerdy, I know..

looks like I wasn't the only one though. (don't click if you don't like spoilers and have not yet watched the movie).

clarity.

today, i had this super brief quiet time before the Lord, and though it was brief, i caught a glimpse into the estate of my heart, and all of a sudden, it was like a moment of intense clarity. i'd say it was like an epiphany, but this was not self-conjured/derived. Anyways, in a phone call later with a friend, this clarity was only magnified, and any desire to embrace the old way of living was muted by this sense of something, SOMEONE greater with greater purposes for my life than to just be.

wonderland.

still thinking about the whole blog thing. but i just have to say, that i absolutely love this.

on gossip.

Almost 7 years ago, my world (the world of a 15 year old) felt like it was caving in, because of gossip. i'm a blunt person, and though time has eased this somewhat, i still remain a direct communicator (but funny enough, an indirect receiver). i will often respond to things, and though my response isn't out of malice or ill-intention (especially for those who also receive indirectly), i can see how it may sometimes be perceived that way.

Seven years ago, i lost almost all the Christian friends i had, and spent a long time alone, because i was afraid to become a part of a community, since gossip inevitably happens. For two years, i had lovely non-Christian friends, and i went (non-commitally) to another church. But i stayed pretty far away from anyone Christian. i didn't want to risk getting hurt.

When i moved to Toronto, i kept my involvement with church fairly low, and my interactions with church people to more than an arm's length apart. But slowly, those loving and kind people drew me out of my shell, and for the first time, i was a part of a community where gossip and slander was minimal, and where encouragment and love were freely demonstrated.

i've had this blog for almost 6 years now. when i first started it, i wrote for myself (since i was the only one who read it). But without me knowing, people started reading my blog, and i quickly learned that what i was writing could hurt people. So i started censoring. Sometimes, i have a short fuse, and i'll remove things that i have written in anger. Blogging is slowly teaching me to be more restrained.

Lately, i've found that i do not write for myself anymore. i write for others, which is something i love doing. But along with that has come gossip. When i was doing support raising, and writing and being open about how lonely i was in Edmonton with no Christian friends, people would gossip about how they couldn't believe i was so ungrateful for God's provisions. Or when i write about interpersonal things going on in my life, people gossip about what they "predict" the "argument" (which in reality, doesn't even exist) is about. Some crowds accuse me of not being "open" enough. Other crowds accuse me of being too open.

Blogging is hard, because at the end of the day, you can't satisfy everyone, and because once it's out there, you make yourself a prime target for gossip and slander and dissatisfaction to go on.

Throughout the years, i've received emails from people asking me about this Jesus person i write about on my blog. i've received emails from people thanking me for my openness about depression, about life, about Jesus and about reality. It's been 6 years, and it's been some really good times.

Lately, though, i've come to a realization that people DO read this, and that they'll read this from THEIR paradigm and not mine. i've come to the realization that no matter what i do, my mouth MAY get me in 'trouble', and once it's out there, there's no way to make every 'customer' satisfied. The cheap route out is to say that what i write is what i write, and that people can choose to read this at their own discretion.

But life isn't about cheap routes and easy solutions.

This past week, i've felt just like i did at the age of 15. When one move, already repented for, has caused gossip about me and my life to build up. i hated feeling that way then, and i hate it now. It's exacerbated by the fact that i constantly feel alone and depressed in Montreal, even though i KNOW i am supposed to be here, and have been SO blessed by God whilst being here. I'm just not at a point where i can laugh off the blog-world gossip like i used to be able to.

i don't know, and there aren't any final decisions..but i'm contemplating retiring this blog.

little spitfire.
(disclaimer: there is profanity in this blog, so choose to read at your own expense.)

Awhile back, when I was still in Toronto, at a mall where I frequently went grocery shopping, a random woman yelled a verbal barrage of racist remarks at me. That day, I was so stunned, that I quietly accepted her remarks. It was one of the first times that I had ever faced such blatant racism. But as I went home that day, I was so angry... mostly because other people had heard that woman yell at me, and no one stood up to defend multiculturalism in our country. The biggest disappointment was in myself. It was that day, that in my heart, I vowed that if I ever faced such blatant and unrepentant racism again, I would not be apathetic.

Today, my friend Cloris and I went to watch the fireworks at old port. When the fireworks had started, a man and a woman came and stood behind us. They were cussing like no tomorrow. It was distracting and since there were kids around, I turned and gave the couple "a look". The man started "pretending to speak Chinese"-- not in a "let me try out your language" type way, but rather, in a racist way. I gritted my teeth, but didn't say anything. The woman with him said, "Stop, they're not as bad as the fucking Arabs." At this point, I couldn't sit quietly. I remembered my vow to never be apathetic. Maybe it was a summer in North Africa spent with some of the most hospitable and caring people I have ever met, but inside, I was shaking with rage. I turned around and pulled out my favourite line, "Profanity and racism are the crutches of intellectual cripples."
The guy was pretty ticked off, but the woman said, "Ah, she's just fucking PMSing."
"I will ALWAYS PMS when there's racism involved," I stated.

Then the man jumped in, "Go back to your fucking country."
"This IS my country, and it's a shame to see it filled with people like you."

The woman yelled, "I have a fucking beer bottle and I would love to smash it over your head right now."
White with rage, I yelled back, "Go right ahead, you'd do it because I'm Chinese eh?"

They walked away.

Around me, hundreds of people from different cultures just looked away uncomfortably and pretended to look at the fireworks.

About 5 minutes later, a burning cigarette landed on my arm. It burned me, and I turned around and looked. It was the couple again. So I picked up the cigarette, and looked at them. The guy said something about how I should go back to my fucking country, and how I was a fucking Chinese. I turned to them and in a low voice said, "I was born in this country, and when white supremacists...white racists degrade my country, my MULTICULTURAL country like the way you are, it is a tragedy." I turned around and sat down.

Later, when the man went to the bathroom, the woman came and apologized, told me she wasn't racist and asked me for a hug, which i found pretty funny, since she was the one who had threatened to smash a beer bottle over my head and who had called Arabic people "fucking Arabs", but I gave her a hug anyways, since Jesus would've forgiven.

After this whole episode, the fireworks ended (most of which I missed), and I got up to go. A different man came up from behind me and told me he was SO sorry for what had happened, Canada being a multicultural country. He told me he was Arabic and that he was so grateful for what I had said. With an accent, he went on to say that next to the two of them, I had sounded very intellectual, and that as an Arab, he was grateful for me speaking up, and that he wished he had done something for me.

I'm home now, and although I know I made it awkward for the friend I was with, and for the hundreds of people sitting and watching the fireworks, I am SO glad that I said something today. I am so glad that apathy wasn't chosen tonight. Injustice is something that will be with us until the end of time as we know it. But with the freedom I have been given, just to even be born in a place where my skin colour need not dictate my freedoms, I am so grateful, and were I given another chance to receive a cigarette burn, I would do it all over again. Maybe seeing this, one day, that Arabic man will stand up too.

iphone.

i stood in the iphone line today...i was number 96. From what i could see ahead of me, i was the only girl. There was one girl behind me, but she left early.

eventually i left too.

and went to another location, where they refused to give me one because they were only serving new customers. TELL me how this works? I mean, I know it's more economically savvy..but SERIOUSLY? Shaft your old and faithful customers with phone bills totalling $70/month, for new clients? I guess that's what you do when you know your clients are locked in for 3 years anyways.

so then i went to a pay phone and proceeded to have a phone date with lovely, romantic, elevator music for one hour.

thank you rogers. you treat your customers SO well.

resolved.

resolved to get to know Montreal better.
resolved to break into the Montreal DIY/Craft scene.
resolved to have many adventures. (if i had a vespa, this would be so much easier)

summer is a good time to get acquainted with many things. i've emailed some well connected people in Montreal and Toronto to help me get started on my adventure here in Montreal. They've come up with some helpful places to start. i'm going to a craft fair on Saturday, which is exciting, because even reprodepot fabrics will be there.

and i may not be in Toronto, but darn, i am GOING to find a place where i can sip coconut chai tea!

missing Toronto.

Most days, I really miss Toronto. I like Montreal, and I've been making more friends here... but some days, I wish I hadn't left. I know I've been called here, and so it's here I'll stay...for now, until God calls me elsewhere...

Today, I am thinking up ideas for the wedding invite of two good friends. I know the store in Toronto I would go to in order to get all the supplies for a mock up. I know the little tea shop that I'd stop in down the street to order a coconut chai tea to sip on before perusing through supplies.

But I'm not in Toronto. And it seems that all my close friends are moving there. Tonight I was talking to a friend from here in Montreal, and even he was talking about perhaps one day moving to Toronto.

My friend Brad says that I'm having such a hard time adjusting to Montreal because I can't let Toronto go.

Maybe.

I try not to think about Toronto too much, because it makes me cry like I am crying now. I think talking about Toronto all the time might make some people resent me (afterall, this IS Montreal...they hate ontario!)... but I seem to get really depressed here. Everytime I come back, I spend a lot of time crying.

Am I really supposed to be here?

Some days, I really miss home.

dealing.

it's silly, but the things i miss most out of my purse aren't the electronics. i just miss my Bible and my journal. my friend jfarq and i were laughing, because somehow things like this always happen to me. i mean, 4 exposures, being attacked by crazies and homeless people, a mugging, a break-in at my house (i wasn't here for that) and a man seeing me naked through my skylight...

many people don't experience this...well... ever! haha.

oh, did i mention, that yesterday, my landlord's car was broken into and the thief stole the keys for 18 of the houses he owns, including our house? Oh yeah, and the keys were all marked with our house addresses.

i just seem to attract adventure.

you know, despite having many of these adventures in Toronto, i still like Toronto, and i still feel safer at night in Toronto than i do here in Montreal.

anyways, all this adventure is getting to me. after the mugging, i thought i was okay. i mean, it's hilarious, in one sense. something i can laugh off. but now, when i walk down the streets, i wonder if the people walking by me are going to mug me. church friends and i were stuck in traffic for a really long time this evening, and they contemplated just dropping me off at a metro. i put on a brave face, but my heart skipped a beat. thankfully, they drove me all the way home.

now that i'm home, i'm scared someone is going to use the key that they stole and enter into my place and mug me. or worse. i mean, why else steal a bunch of keys if you're not gonna use them?

anyways, this is life, and it makes for a good story. the thing that allows me to laugh and to feel joy, in the midst of this fear in my heart, is that perfect love casts out all fear. i'm so grateful that when i'm all alone, and blogging at a quarter to 1 in the morning because i don't want to go to sleep alone, i'm really not alone.

i got mugged tonight, with my best friend.

we lost our cameras, our ipods, my bible, my wallet, my cell phone....

those guys better become Christians, cause man, i'm MAD THAT THEY HAVE THE BIBLE I LOVE!!! DONK.

travelog part 1.

Today, when I arrived at the Toronto airport, I flopped down in a seat facing the huge windows. Tired from the 8 hour flight and passage through customs, I pulled out some math-riddles that I found in one of those on-board magazines and started doing them mindlessly.
Behind me, I heard a girl on her cell phone talking to her mum. Talking about how her boyfriend (I'm assuming?) had hit her and pushed her in front of "them" (her friends, I suppose?). She was crying and yelling at her mum, and from the conversation, I gleaned that "he" had thrown her out on the street and tossed her wallet somewhere. She had no money.

Something inside me wanted to hand her a $20, just like that man did at Starbucks to me, what seems like ages ago. I wanted to ask her if she needed anything, if she was okay. But I didn't.

A mother with a young child was standing beside me, so I offered her my seat.

I end up sitting next to the girl on the cell phone, who had by then finished her conversation.

I see the girl, who must be in her late 20s, with her styled and curled blonde hair, and her big sunglasses, her perfectly pedicured feet, and though I know approaching her would be the right thing to do, the thing "a missionary should do", the thing Jesus would have done, I am afraid that my feeble attempt at comfort will be rejected. So i sit in my chair, pretending to look elsewhere--anywhere but AT her. But I steal glimpses. Though her glasses mask her eyes, I see her sorrow, and my heart pounds. A voice (the HS perhaps?) says "Talk to her."

But I don't.

I just sit, like everyone around us.

The announcement goes off on the PA system. "Flight AC421 now boarding."

The girl gets up and walks, her shiny stilettos clicking against the floor, her hips swaying back and forth in her perfectly fitted skinny jeans.

She disappears into the throng of people waiting in the boarding queue.

i am left to gather my stuff, and I can't help feeling disappointed with myself.

As i settle into my plane seat, i pull out my bible, well worn from 3 years of use and most recently, a 2 month stint in North Africa, Paris and London.

i know i am a hypocrite.

though i am disappointed in myself, i can't shake the feeling that had i a chance to rewind, i would still do the exact same thing.

bye bye Europe!

Well, I'm flying back to Canada today. I've been gone a solid 2 months, and the pictures on my camera have PILED up, waiting to be uploaded.

I don't even know what to say.

So here's an interesting story:

Yesterday, I took the chunnel back to Paris (the last train of the day), and because my parents didn't want me sleeping at an airport, they booked me a room at a fairly nice hotel in Paris. So, it's 11:30pm by the time I arrive at the hotel, and I'm all tuckered out, and all I want to do is sleep. But as I'm checking in, the stinking receptionist is trying to strike up conversation with me. Needless to say, it was pretty unwanted conversation. First, he proceeds to flirt with me, and then asks me my age as a part of his dodgy flirtatious conversation. I reply that I've just given him my passport, and that he should be able to read.
Then, when I've finally gotten my key, he says, "So, when you go to the club at night, do they ask you how low you can go?"

OH MY GOODNESS.

SO RIDICULOUSLY SKETCHY.

I went to my room and double locked the door and proceeded to call my parents. Of course, i didn't tell them about the sketchy receptionist. But i suppose they'll find out, since my dad reads this blog (hi dad!).

Anyways, minus the complete unprofessionalism of the receptionist, the hotel is nice, and everyone seems quite normal this morning. Which is a good sign.

Cliche, but embarassingly true.

I can't believe I just spent another 2 Euros just so that I can have another 30 mins, in order that I might blog. There MUST be something wrong with me. But, I mean after 6 weeks in North Africa, you must imagine the restraint it took not to blog right after arriving in Paris.

Now that I'm in Paris, I fear that I must confess something. But first, a preamble. The first couple of days were a BORE. To be honest, I'm not a fan of museums (too much sensory overload, too little time) and monuments (here today, gone tomorrow). I know, I sound uncultured, but in my defense, I think the general populus wants to admit this, but like a person who thinks Shakespeare is overrated, there is a fear of the unavoidable backlash by the pompous (or the posers) in society. Anyways, this is the reason for the delay in blogging. All those museums (minus Versailles....that trip was GORGEOUS) were putting me to sleep.

Now, to what I must confess. Today, I spent my day alone (I have two travel buddies here in Paris) and darn (I want to use the word da*n to express my excitement, but I know that this too would cause inevitable backlash) it was GLORIOUS! I know people often say that they LOVE Paris, and gosh, it's SO ridiculously cliche, but I LOVE Paris! Stuffy monuments and buildings aside, Paris is what I totally imagined Montreal being like. With no disappointment thus far at least.

The great thing is.. I'll leave before any disillusionment sets in.

You see, the tourist things aren't that hype; I mean, the Mona Lisa is like the smaller than the length of my arm. But those little streets lined with all colours and kinds of vespas? BRILLIANT. Today, I sat in a Starbucks (I know, I could have at least done a cafe...but Starbucks is SO much cheaper), spent time with God and people watched for hours. Then I picked up my stuff, did a little bit of shopping, and for the rest of the time, stuck in my iPod, and meandered the streets of Paris.

Let me tell you. At this point in time, I am so enamoured, that though I know the following statement is untrue, it feels true, so I am going to write it anyways. I feel as though there is little that is greater than roaming these streets with Feist, Yael Naim and the Across the Universe soundtrack in ear. All the little shops dedicated to fashion, design, DIY and randomness is enough to make my heart sing. All the vespas, zooming around, taking people places.... oh the joy.

So, here I am with two days of Paris left to go, 8 days of vacation left...and I just have to say, God has really blessed me.

p.s. the men here wear scarves. SCARVES. There is nothing better (again, hyperbole) than a guy wearing a blazer with a scarf, a pair of dark jeans and a pair of good shoes.

ni hao, ni hao!

The other day, whilst walking in the medina, someone called me Jackie Chan.

I was forewarned about this, but my mind STILL can't wrap around this concept. Jackie Chan is MALE. He is OLD. I am neither male nor old. Well, relatively speaking, that is. About my age, I mean. Not my male-ness or non male-ness.

Anyways, that is my update.

i'm lovin' it!

be back in 5 weeks.

lub ju.

p.s. i am hacking up a lung. please pray that this cough would go away. it's brutal!!!!!!!

9 weeks of change.

Well, today I left Montreal. I'll be gone for the next 9 weeks. (Steph: I'm heading to North Africa, taking students on our summer project)

It's hard to believe that I will be gone nine weeks. I'm excited, scared, relieved...I could probably list out hundreds of emotions.

There are some heart things going on that I'm just glad to leave behind. Hopefully things'll have changed by the time I return. I know that when I return, I'll have changed.

Perhaps change in my own heart will be enough.

As we head over there, I know that lives will be changed.

Perhaps those changed lives will be used to change me.

I'm not so good with change. Not so good with flux and fluidity. 

But bring on the summer. I'm ready for this change.

***

On a more practical note: I will have limited internet access while I'm away. So, this may be one of the last times I blog until I return. Have a great spring and summer. May the seasons be filled with change.

pictures.

today, i went for a walk with a friend.

i didn't have my camera, so i took pictures with my mind.

there were so many beautiful things. i love spring, and it makes me sad to be leaving and to miss most of it.

memories:
- blue eyed grass scattered all over the backyard. a grey shed with bright red doors.
- tree blossoms
- grass growing from the sidewalk cracks
- spring green
- a dog sitting in a basket on the back of a bike
- a dog asking us to play fetch
- sitting on a bench and seeing sunlight reflect off my glasses.
- looking into my friend's sunglasses and seeing my reflection
- the way a tree looked against the blue sky.

i am leaving in 36 hours. just when i have begun to see beauty in the broken.

on haircuts and pulling a monica.

Today, I went to get my haircut. It's been a long time coming. The last time I cut my hair was in October last year. I'd been holding off, hoping I could get it cut at my favourite salon in Toronto, and also, i was worried about explaining what I wanted in french. Sadly, lately it had just become completely unmanageable, and I couldn't fathom going another 2 months without a haircut.

So, off I went. I went to this great salon, and they had these beds that you lie on while they wash your hair. So there I was, getting this great scalp massage, when all of a sudden, in the bed next to me, I hear,

"oooH.. that's right. Right there. ugggh, ohhhhh."

Sex noises!!!

The woman next to me, who was also getting a scalp massage was making sex noises!!

It was VERY VERY highly disturbing and distracting. And I'd dare say, it kind of ruined my cranial massage experience.

Grr!

On the upside, the woman who did my hair was very nice. Even though she spoke in French, I feel like it was a good experience. I was able to explain everything I wanted..and I daresay, she did a great job. My hair feels so light!

Anyways, that is my story for the day. Moral being: if you are getting a massage, please don't pull a Monica and ruin it for the rest of us out there.

love it!

okay, so, awhile back i posted some youtube videos of nick pitera ...a friend recently reminded me of him again, so..really...you need to check him out. there's even more up now! no jokes, i'm seriously amazed by this guy. he's amazingly talented...and if you google him, you can find some of his animation work on his blog..which is ALSO ridiculously laden with talent.

anyways...ladies, he's not gay! haha. i think i want to marry him.

redefinition.

i was JUST about to write a post about how some people just need to man up, stop being immature and get organized....you know, a rant, because i was feeling particularly un-spirit-filled after a long day.

but then, "some people" called to apologize and when i hung up, i was left really humbled and impressed. most of the time, judging and being critical comes so easy. Humility does not. And yet, in witnessing someone else's act of humility, i was humbled.

i don't know.

i think my picture/definition of maturity is skewed, because i far too often prize the wrong things, when really, it takes a real man (or woman) to humbly step down and admit fault.
it takes even more maturity to admit that fault could have occurred, when there was no grievance that occurred in the first place.

i guess that's what makes Jesus so special. Not only was there no grievance on his part; he stepped down and took the beating for OUR faults and grievances.

tonight, i was impressed, because someone apologized for something, when there was no real grievance in the first place. in fact, if there was any grievance, it was my own unregenerate and prideful heart, which sadly prizes tasks above people.

tonight, this person reminded me of Jesus and His great abundance of humility and grace.

i think i have a lot to learn from my friend.

i think i need to redefine, in my mind, what being solid REALLY means.

Enagement shoot.

I think, if i ever leave staff, I'd go into wedding photography. It's just so fun to be able to take pictures of a couple in love! CHEESY, but TRUE!
Emily and Brad graciously let me try my hand at taking some engagement pics for them. Here are three out of the 138 shots I took today.

font game

here

i got 30 out of 34. i don't know how anyone could possibly get 34 out of 34 without cheating.

vague.

My friend Jess says that she misses my blogs that actually SAY stuff instead of being really vague. Truth is, i haven't censored things on this blog because i've joined staff, or because i'm necessarily more cautious (although, i think i AM more cautious), but more so because lately, i just haven't been able to express myself adequately in words.

How does one express satisfaction and non-satisfaction at the same time? How does one talk about how they are the last girl on the staff team (interns not included) without a boyfriend, and how she's okay with that, but at the same time not, without sounding either impatient or as though she's trying to convince herself? How do you say that you would rather not sit at a party and talk about how everyone is moving to different life stages, because it's not fun when you're at a standstill and not moving into a different stage, without sounding jealous or bitter, even though you're neither?

How does one express how frustrated they are at their vacation plans being turned upside down, because seminary courses are apparently non-negotiable, and still not sound worldly and carnal and as though she'd choose a vacation over seminary? How does one express that THIS year, a vacation WOULD be chosen over biblical studies, were there a choice, because sometimes in life, there's just a need to see the world and get out of the christian bubble.

How does one express that they love God and yet don't, all at the same time? As outsiders watch, and hear me talk about the Bible, they assume that I love Jesus with all my heart. But how does one explain that as the world spins around, more and more, there is a realization that Jesus is not loved by this heart enough?

How does one express disappointment with where life is, without giving the picture that life is dissapointing, when it is not?

I'm not sure how to express all these things in a way that truly reflects the state of my heart. So because of that, there is vagueness that exists. It's not purposeful. It's just that at this time, life seems vague. In a way, I am disconnected from it.

I am glad that though I know not how to express myself,

the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. ~Romans 8:26

i am ticked that...

... my two week Europe vacation plans are ruined
... i don't have a choice
... i didn't find out that I don't have a choice earlier
... there's no one to be ticked at
... there's not enough time
... i am letting people down
... i now have to do something that is pointless just because i can.

frustrated.

lies. it's what satan feeds. and so often, i just take, without thinking.

i am frustrated at myself for listening to lies.
i am frustrated at others for listening to lies.

ahh!

oh Holy Spirit. How I need thee every hour.

today's breakfast.

we try to do what only the Spirit can do.

i've been thinking about the Holy Spirit lately. During staff training today, all three of us had done bible projects/read books on the Holy Spirit. Divine?

A lot of people have been asking me for advice lately, and ultimately, i always ask the question, "How are you and God doing?" Cliche? Maybe. But necessary.

The response is usually, "Not so well..." or "..meh... mediocre..."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't spend enough time with God." or "I don't pray enough." or "I don't have the motivation." or...other things that have to do a lot with "doing".

We were talking today in training about how as humans, "doing" is always the solution we come up with when there's a problem. Leaky faucet? Fix it. Broken heart? Fix it.
But, as we talked more about the Holy Spirit...there were some pretty good reminders.

1 Corinthians 12:3b says that no one can say "Jesus is Lord" except in the Holy Spirit.

We can't even acknowledge that Jesus is the Saviour without the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives!! Our sinful nature is just THAT contrary to God and the gospel!

Galatians 5 says that the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
This means that we are UNABLE to love wholly, or have joy or have peace..etc WITHOUT the Spirit's ongoing work in our lives.

Imagine that. It means that it's IMPOSSIBLE to love (both man AND God) without the Holy Spirit working in us!

So, what does this mean practically. It means that our solution, before fixing the leaky faucet is to make sure we have the right TOOLS. What Paul is telling the Corinthians in chapter 12 is that on their own, they can't fix the problem. They can't even acknowledge that God is GOD, let alone grow CLOSE to God without the work of the Holy Spirit!

We need to PRAY and ASK God to give us the tools, namely, the person of the Holy Spirit!

Jesus PROMISED that if we were thirsty we should approach him.

“If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.” John goes on to tell us, “By this he meant the Spirit” (John 7:37-39).

How amazing is this? That He WOULD fill us. That HE would be the SOLUTION. He promised He would answer. 1 John 5:14-15.

It's humbling to realize that I can't fix things on my own will. I can't MAKE myself desire God. No amount of time spent reading God's Word on my own power will MAKE me desire God. But God can make me desire Him.

So all I need to do is ASK.

Grace.

friendly friendlies.

i am happy today. i have friends! like friends i've made on my own, not friends that are my friends because they have to be!

woot.

i think i heart sundays.

life before death.

"“Mummy, we’ll all be together again one day.”
“That’s impossible,’ Gerda replied. “Either you’re eaten by worms or burned to ashes.”
“But what about your soul?” her daughter pleaded.
“Oh, don’t talk to me about souls”, said her mother in an accusing tone. “Where is God now?”

see here

ipod death.

i'm devastated. i think my ipod has died. it has been in a permanent freeze since sunday afternoon.

i have used that thing almost every single day for 2.5 years. poor little white boy. it is no longer playing it's funky music.

the worst thing is.... i'll have to travel without music!!! :(

life may not go on.

*weeps.*

only child syndrome.


i always want things i can't have. somehow, i get enjoyment out of testing dangerous waters.

i'm gonna get burned.

Christianity without Christ?

what the heck is the point??

see here.

providence.

prov·i·dence /ˈprɒvɪdəns/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[prov-i-duhns] –noun

1.	(often initial capital letter) the foreseeing care and guidance of God or nature over the creatures of the earth.

"Take this. I heard your story. I want you to know that on a day like today, there is some good in the world, and that it's not all bad."

These words launched me into the realization that God is a provider. Jehovah Jireh.

On Saturday, I was hanging out with my friend Shelly. We had a full morning/afternoon planned. I got on the subway with my wallet, but when I arrived at Starbucks, my wallet was gone. Somewhere along the way, I had lost it. I called TD Visa and Interac and cancelled both my Visa and my Interac card. I asked the man if it was possible to be re-issued another interac card.

"Only with ID."

When I lost my wallet, I lost my day pass, my driver's license, my visa, my interac, and $80 in cash.

"So, if I've lost everything..?"
"We can re-issue you a new interac in the mail, but it will take about a week."

My heart plummeted. What would I do for the weekend without any id and without any money or access to money?

Shelly gave me her metropass so I could go to all the stations we had passed on the way to downtown and ask if anyone had returned my wallet. I stopped at every single stop between Museum and King and asked each booth attendant if anyone had found my wallet. Nothing. I asked the attendant at King station to call all the terminals (Finch, Downsview, Union, Kennedy, Kipling) to see if anyone had returned my wallet. Nothing. The lost and found was only open Monday to Friday, and it would not be open until Tuesday, since Monday was an Easter Holiday.

I went to Starbucks feeling pretty panicky. It's one thing to lose your wallet in the city you live in, but another thing to lose it in a city that is no longer home on a LONG weekend and have ABSOLUTELY no way of finding any income. To make matters worse, when I called home, my mom yelled at me for not carrying a purse.

I hung up the phone feeling horribly stupid and small. I also wondered how I'd eat that weekend.

As Shelly and I left Starbucks, a man came up from behind me and handed me a twenty.

"Take this. I heard your story. I want you to know that on a day like today, there is some good in the world, and that it's not all bad."

I cried.

A good samaritan.

After this, I stopped at a TD branch, and miraculously, even without ID, I was re-issued an interac card.

The man, in combination with a new interac card reminded me that God was taking care of me. I no longer anticipated that I would be reunited with my wallet, but things would be okay.

That night, I was supposed to meet up with my friend Warren. In the almost 5 years I have known Warren, he has almost ALWAYS picked me up at Don Mills Station. But on Saturday, for some reason, I decided to call him and ask him if we could meet at Finch. I wasn't really sure why I did that. I just decided I should. When I got to the station, I was walking to the parking lot, when I suddenly had a desire to go back and ask a booth attendant whether my wallet had been found.

"That's stupid," I thought. "There are so many booths at Finch and it's already 7. It's been 8 hours. It's not like it'll suddenly materialize."

But the nagging feeling persisted. So I went back inside. I felt directed to a booth that was nowhere near where I was standing. I asked the man if a wallet had been returned. He asked me some questions. I answered.

He pulled out my wallet.

Inside: all the contents. Including the $80 I had withdrawn that morning.

That's providence.

On Saturday, I was reminded over and over again of God's faithfulness. I was overcome by the generosity of a complete stranger (a TORONTONIAN!! That's probably the crazy part!) and overcome by the bank bending rules that they had stipulated 1 hour before when I had called. And as though those provisions did not demonstrate His caring hands, He also reunited me with my wallet, providentially.

As I contemplated these things, I realized something striking.

I had gone to many stops in search of that wallet and the eighty dollars that was inside. I had tried everything I thought possible to get that wallet back. I had spent hours looking for that wallet, trying to rectify the damage done and the hassle of losing a wallet.

I caught a glimpse of how God works.

You see, God will do ANYTHING for that which is lost. The amazing thing is, he doesn't only go to great lengths for the $100 bills or the $50 bills or the $20 bills. The amazing thing is, he searches high and low and CALLS OUT to the mere pennies. He went so far as to DIE for the pennies, so that they would be reunited to Him.


That, my dear friends, is providence.

Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.

thus far in Toronto i have... (part 2)

. lost my wallet
. experienced kindness from a friend AND from a stranger
. cried at said experienced kindness
. stopped at every station between museum and king in search of said wallet
. gotten a new bank card WITHOUT having any ID on me
. providentially FOUND said wallet
. met up with good friends
. eaten much chinese food
. celebrated new life
. realized how faithful God is
. found gocco supplies.

More elaboration on the wallet when I get back to Monts.

Thus far in Toronto I have....

. eaten a part of a collection of cookies baked to spell my name (thanks mingyu and franahan!)
. crashed into a fence whilst boarding.
. attempted the ramp of a jump, only to fail. (not enough speed).
. seen many beloved friends.
. i can't wait for the rest of today, tomorrow and monday!

huzzah for VERY long weekends.

salt and light.

"You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet.

"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."

***

"I don't really publicize that I'm a Christian. I might, if they ask, or you know, if they ask what I'm doing, I'll tell them I go to church, but I don't really publicize it much."

***

"Everyone will know you are Dr.______"

***

I've been thinking a lot about a conversation I had recently. The conversation replays itself over and over in my mind. Its raw quality was attractive, but the reality that I was reminded of was devastating to me. Let me explain.

Too often, I trick myself into thinking I am a good person. After all, my job description is replete with "goodness". I mean, the title "missionary" lends itself to a picture of religiosity and piety. The truth is, though, if someone were to look at my life, would they SEE enough to ask me if I was a Christian? Probably not. Inherently, there is not much good in me. That is why I am so in need and in want of grace. Is my life so much more moral than a non-Christian's life? Probably in some circumstances, but the truth is, probably not compared to most. All in all, I am an averagely good person. The thing that sets me apart, in fact, from a non-Christian isn't necessarily my actions (although it IS my hope that the fruit produced by the Holy Spirit would be plentiful) but my recognition that though I am outwardly a "good Christian", I am, as Paul would say, the worst sinner. When I see my judgemental thoughts, my cowardly actions and feelings, I realize just how much I am in need of grace.

I was sitting with a group of friends on Sunday, and we were all talking. I can't remember how we got onto the topic, but someone ended up mentioning that she doesn't publicize that she is a Christian. She might, if someone asked her, or perhaps if someone asked what she was doing on a Sunday, she might tell them that she was heading to church. But to publicize it..well, she didn't really do that. Others nodded in agreement. Jesus' words from Matthew 5 came to my mind. About being salt and light. About how light isn't meant to be hidden, but to be exalted, and how as bearers of light we need to be putting it on a stand for all to see.

It's so easy, in my own life, to be tricked into thinking that if I do enough good things people will ASK me why I am the way I am. I need to repent of this pride, because in reality, I am not a good person. Not good enough. And even if I WAS a ridiculously GOOD person, people probably wouldn't give glory to my Father in heaven. They'd probably just give ME all the glory thinking, "Wow, Lydia is such a good person. Good for her."

The truth is that none of us are good enough. We're not good enough to MERIT salvation, and the sad part is, we're often not good enough for people around us to ask us why we're different. And, even if we are good enough representatives, most people in this day and age don't care enough to ask, because this world is all about the glory and the "goodness" of humanity.

Later on in the conversation, someone mentioned that everyone would one day know that one of the guys is a doctor, because he'll have the title "Dr." in front of his name. It was something to be proud of. Something valued. Something that will be proclaimed.

At that point in our conversation, I thought about my own name. How "missionary" Lydia isn't worthy of much. How I'll never be known as someone brilliant. How my occupation isn't something that the world deems important or anything to be proud of.

I thought about Jesus. How in this day and age, the name of Jesus is profaned, not something that is proclaimed. Even amongst Christians.

I was sad.

And as I sit here, I realize that I may never be a rich doctor/dentist/lawyer. I may never have fame or fortune. But I DO have the chance to give light to the world. If people can be so proud as to exalt human efforts, which are here today and gone tomorrow, then how much MORE worthy is the name of Jesus, here today and forevermore?

It isn't enough, then, for me to just do good works and hope that people will ask me why I am different. I AM no different. And I need to make this known.

My name is Lydia. I am a Christian. Though I hope that you see Christ in me, the truth is, most of the time, I am probably too carnal for you to notice. Being a Christian doesn't make me any better than you. In fact, you are probably just as moral as i. That's why Jesus is so amazing. Because He doesn't require us to be any better than the next in order to gain His saving grace. Rather, He takes us as we are, and allows us to know Him in a real and personal way. You may never ask me WHY I'm different. I hope you will. But I want you to know that there IS a difference because grace is a beautiful thing. And when it covers imperfections, the byproduct is a liberating freedom.

The freedom that comes from believing in Jesus is too good a thing to hold inside in the hopes that SOMEONE out there might ask. Somehow, it just bubbles up and out, and I just NEED to tell everyone I know that I am in love with the person of Jesus.

I hope that one day, the friends i hung out with on Sunday will experience this sensation.

Way back, a man named Jeremiah experienced this.

May we be like him.

If I say, "I will not mention him,
or speak any more in his name,"
there is in my heart as it were a burning fire
shut up in my bones,
and I am weary with holding it in,
and I cannot.
~Jeremiah 20:9

potato soup + a picture every so often #006 + a couple of interesting links.

Today, I made potato soup. My friend Tara didn't think it was wise to make it without a recipe...but hey, I'm chinese. We don't use recipes.

...

I probably should have used one. I put WAY too much onion in, and now it tastes a bit more like onion soup. Ah well. It was nice and warm on a winter day.

...

It feels weird saying it's winter, when it's already March. But there's still loads of snow lining my front steps.




***

1. spot the fake smile. I got 12 out of 20.
2. arial or helvetica? I got 8 out of 10.

sweet potato + a photo every so often 005.

I'm on this fantastic sweet potato kick. Actually, I've been on this kick for awhile, but lately, I don't know what has happened. It has just overcome me. So today, having many sweet potatoes on hand, I decided to make myself a sweet potato dinner. I made some roasted sweet potatoes bathed in a honey, cinnamon, cane sugar and olive oil dressing (the sugars caramelize and make the whole dish fantastic) and then proceeded to make some sweet potato biscuits. I used this recipe, but because I did not have buttermilk or brown sugar on hand, I made some modifications. Instead of the brown sugar, I used golden cane sugar, and instead of the buttermilk, I used some mango yogurt I had on hand. The result was fantastic! You can REALLY taste the mango! I cut the biscuits in half after I took them out from the oven, and put some sweet onion mustard and some rosemary ham on them. WOW. DELICIOUS. I think next time, I'll add a little bit of vanilla to the biscuits just to heighten the sweetness of the sweet potatoes.

Delicious. Y'all come over for some, ya hear?

...and i didn't even make my bed.

Today was the most brutal morning I have had in...I don't even know how long. I can laugh at it now, because it's over, but the people outside my house are just starting their mornings and they're shovelling ice and snow off their cars. It's probably a brutal morning for them too.

I woke up at what I thought was 6:45am this morning, to get ready to go to church. I had to be there for practice at 8:15am. "I have lots of time," I thought to myself. I took a long shower and then went to change. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that my computer said it was 8:06am. "That's weird," I thought, "It's only 7:06am."

"OH NOOOOO! Daylight savings time!"

So I rushed out of the house with wet hair, stepped into waist-deep snow (because of the snowstorm) and tried to plow my way to the metro. I didn't even make my bed. And for those of you who know me, this is a BIG thing. I'm usually only pretty anal about two things: my bed and my bookshelf. It doesn't matter if everything else is messy (okay, well it does...but it doesn't bother me AS much)...but if my bed isn't made, I think about it all day until I make it.

I digress.

I got to the metro, pulled out my metro pass and swiped it. No go. I tried again. Disaster! My metro pass wasn't working!! And as I struggled with my metropass, I heard the rumblings from down the stairs. My train had come and gone. Ridiculous! So, I ended up waiting another 10 minutes for the train. By this time, it was already 8:30 and I was pretty ticked off at myself.

As I walked down the hill from the metro station towards church, I slipped and ALMOST fell into a snowbank, which made my pants all wet.... and then 2 minutes later, i fell into ANOTHER snowbank!!

Needless to say, I was late for church. And i had a wet bum for the whole service.

But...

moral of the story: ....


i'm not sure WHAT the point of this story is, except to gripe. The good news is that despite my messy hair and wet bum, I feel like I'm making friends at church....which is a lovely thing.

engrave your book/tech.

donc! can i just say how FABJOUOUSLY cool this (and this) is?? I'm already thinking up ideas for a moleskine.... the computer will have to wait.

:: a photo every so often keeps the doctor away #004::


i have no clue who this kid is. he was at my church on Saturday night, and since i'm new, well... i have no clue who anyone is, really. But he was just SO cute, i snapped up multiple pictures of him. I'm really enjoying shooting kids lately. There's just something so innocent and joyful about the way they interact with the camera.

letters to five or six people in no particular order.

05. i don't really know you, but tonight my heart is breaking for you. i wish you knew that his heart is breaking for you too.

04. i wish i could get past this.

03. i miss you, but i feel like it's too far gone for restoration.

02. i love the two of you. i love that despite my far away-ness, we are still friends.

01. come home soon.

::a photo a day keeps the doctor away #003--hear no evil, speak no evil::




I feel like in posting a picture a day, the pressure causes the quality of my work to decline. I'm not sure if i'll keep on doing this.

::a photo a day keeps the doctor away #002::


well, it's late...but better late than never. i'm so tired though, i can't do edits tonight... so... enjoy what there is. There's a good deal of camera shake, but it'll have to do. have a good night and sweet dreams, if you're not already there.

jehovah's witnesses.

i don't know if it's just me...or are they swarming about montreal in packs?? In the past month i've met more jehovah's witnesses than i've met in...all my time in Toronto (there seemed to be more mormons there).

they came to my door today. my linoleum is cold downstairs by the door and i was barefoot. so when she proceeded to keep talking to me, i was kinda grumpy, seeing as my feet were cold. Even after telling her I was a Christian missionary, she asked me multiple times if I knew what Jesus dying on the cross meant for my salvation.

i told her i did. i wish i had told her she probably did not. but i applaud her boldness and her perseverance. it's cold outside. and it's not easy to convince someone of something especially when you have a creepy smile on your face.

mental note: when you go out sharing, Lydia, make sure you do not have a creepy smile on your face.

now my feet are cold.

to prove the shutter is still opening and closing.


My dad says he hasn't seen my pictures in awhile. "Are you still using your camera?", he asks.

Yes, yes I am. I go through phases of creative inspiration and phases of drivel-driven nonsense. I have some friends (see JAlm) who seem to just CHURN out the quality...but I can't seem to be consistent like this. Maybe it's because I don't force myself. I'm not sure. But, with a new lens in hand, I have resolved to try taking a picture a day, because, well, as the last page of the four laws explains, we shouldn't rely on our feelings. Way to take a spiritual analogy and turn it into another form of drivel, Lydia.

Meh. Same idea applies. Let's be honest though. Resolutions rarely last more than 26 days, and thus, no promises will be made as to when my photos will materialize on the web. But, there's a photo for today at least. And...as usual, if you desire to see more, there's always shutter release... a collection of old and new shots.




::a photo a day keeps the doctor away #001::

Colds.

Today, I am sick with my 3rd cold of 2008. If you include the flu, I've been sick 4 times since January 1st. Oh, and don't forget the ridiculous cold that lasted all of December.

This is getting ridiculous. IMMUNE SYSTEM.... COME ON!

Long week.

It's been awhile since I've posted something open and honest here.

but tonight will be no different. It's only Tuesday and I feel like this week is long and has been dragging on.

so, to bed I go. perhaps tomorrow will be a new day.

but here's a question:

why not me?

because i don't look back.


i'm not looking back.

beloved Queen Street.

Because we don't have cable, and because i've been to lazy (cheap?) to buy an antennae, I'm often behind on national news. But today, I heard about the fire on Queen Street West, and it breaks my heart. This was an area that I frequented often, and one of my favourite perusing shops, Preloved, has been destroyed. Hopefully something good will come out of this tragedy.

bizarre afternoon.

Today, I had a bizarre walk home from campus. I just felt this sudden swarm of compassion for the broken and hurting. I cried for a coworker out east whose baby has a chromosome defect (a deletion of chromosome 7Q). I cried for a guy I have never met, but whose blog I read on a constant basis. I cried for all the suffering that is so prevalent in our world and all the trials that people go through.

It was a weird moment. I'm not sure what brought it on. I just felt this sudden surge of compassion and urgency to pray.

And I thought to myself, "Wow, when His kingdom comes, what a sweet day it will be."

on crafts and valentine's day.

Well, happy valentine's day, all ye faithful blogstalkers/blogroll buddies! Hope it was a good one! Mine turned out to be quite the packed day.... but with nothing remotely romantic....and not even ro_ _ _tic (romantic without the man)!!

A couple of highlights.
1. i saw a guy come to Christ today!
2. i got a five and a half journal in the mail today!!
3. i made gocco valentines day cards.

Expound:

1. i hopped over to McGill today and took a girl who had only been sharing once before out on the campus. We talked to a guy, who had grown up "Christian" but didn't really GET it. When we went through the four laws, he kept nodding. Initially, he didn't think someone could get to know God personally. But at the end, he said he had never prayed the "sinners prayer" before....and that it reflected the desire of his heart! Cool beans.

2. Every month, I treat myself to something nice. I really like supporting independent artists/crafters/businesses. Last month, I saw the five and a half journals and i just FELL in LOVE with them! So this month, I put in an order for one. It came within two weeks! And the wonderful owner, and journal maker, Judy, even put in an extra postcard AND handwrote me a little note!! if you're ever looking for a blank journal guys, seriously, order from her! This little journal feels FANTASTIC in my hands.

3. Instead of going out tonight, like I had originally planned, I stayed home, reveled in sweet aloneness and made Valentine's Day cards. Yes, late, I know. But everyone loves a random card, even if it is months late. I figure, i still owe some people Christmas presents. DISGUSTING. I know. I love my gocco!!! I hope my bulb and filter order comes soon! I'm completely out of materials. (If you're wondering what the picture is.... It's a girl standing with a smiling heart (a human heart, not the shape of a heart) in the palm of her hand. It says happy heart day. Which is....quite punny. Props to my friend Shelly, who thought it up.

j-mies.

this post is dedicated to my friend (and little brother) j-mies (pronounced m-eyes) who reads this blog but does not comment. like ever.

blogging community: this is called stalking.

yes, j-mies, you are a stalker.

hmmm...

i needed a picture for my monthly (or not-so-monthly-of-late) newsletter. I wanted to use this one.


sadly, i needed a portrait (vertical) picture, not landscape...and this one did not fit. Additionally, there was a lot of dead space in the centre of the picture, subtracting its effectiveness.

So.... I loaded the picture in photoshop...and.....cropped Imanzi out..and pasted him in the centre, and then cropped the picture:my roommate thinks this is a bit of a lie..... so the question is...

creepy? non-creepy?
legit? non-legit?

am i a liar for using this "created" picture in my newsletter?

happy chinese new year!!

***
On Saturday a really cute girl from the church i've been going to, here in montreal, came up to me, hugged me and exclaimed, "I LOVE YOU, LYDIA!"

Since this was maybe the 4th time i'd met her, i was caught off guard. So... i said...

"Thank you."

actually, i said...

"Aww, you're nice. Thank you."

Somehow, i don't think you're supposed to reply with a thank-you in this scenario.

some days are just bad, confusing days.




and though i drew this off the top of my head, it looks very familiar. i'm pretty sure i've ripped off someone's stick drawing style... so if you know who, let me know. it's vaguely salad fingers, but not quite.

home.

i'm pretty sure i had a small panic attack walking home today. i couldn't breathe and had to take in large gulps of air, i felt nauseous and wanted to vomit, i was sweating even though i was outside and i felt like the world was closing in on me.

i hate my house.

sometimes, after a staff meeting, i'll sit and dawdle around at my director's house, because i don't want to go home. i hate the darkness and the red walls. i hate red walls. they remind me of blood. i really like baths, but i hate taking baths in this house; the water stays yellow, no matter how long i run the tap for, and it reminds me of urine. the carpet in my room grosses me out. i don't even know what makes brown stains like the ones on the dirty grey carpet. The toilet never flushes properly and there isn't enough water pressure to run more than one tap at a time.

i hate how the house is dirty, and i never feel like cleaning or improving the house, because let's be honest, why clean when the place is already disgusting?

i hate knowing that in the 3 months i've lived here, there has been a break in, and a man who has seen me fully naked. i hate having to look up into my skylight to make sure no one is there before i use the toilet. i hate turning onto my street, and having to hold keys between my fingers, wondering if i'll make it to my house without getting mugged.

buying a place probably won't happen. with my current salary, i don't qualify for much of a mortgage, and the only way i can qualify for an increased mortgage is if i got my roommate to sign a lease agreement with me. she doesn't want to move. i also don't want to take handouts from my parents.

i could move out into a different place, but i'd have to live alone and i kinda like my roommate.

i feel trapped whenever i sit in this house. It's like the walls close in on me.

shortest blog ever.

i think i am slowly making friends. trying to engage.

the end.