Summer Reading List

7.26.2006 10:44 AM 11 2009 Melanie 7 comments
There's something about a good book, that I think, out-does a good movie any day of the week. I love books. One day, I want my own library, just a little one. Some place with big chairs and a comfy throw blanket, and a little coffee bar, now that I'm dreaming about it. I've been meaning to post what I've been reading lately, and recommend some great books I've found. If you're interested then that's great. If you have reading suggestions for me, that's even better.
Currently Reading:
Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austin - I loved the movies, but never actually read anything by her before now. Liking this one so far. It's in a collection with Mansfield Park, and Persuasion, so I'm looking foward to those. Jane's a little wordy though, so I need to read this in peace and quiet, so I don't get distracted by the subtleties in what she writes.
The Horse and His Boy - CS Lewis - Read it before, but Peter and I are reading the entire Chronicles to each other and this is where we're at so far. This is a much better way to spend an evening than watching TV. If I ever get my own horse, I'm naming him after the boy in this story, Shasta. I adore these books, every one, though this may be my favorite. It's between that or Voyage of the Dawn Treader. The Last Battle makes me cry my eyes out. As soon as we're done the Chronicles of Narnia, we're moving on to Tolkien. I've got the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit in collectors editions, they're so beautiful I just want to look at them and smell them. They were Peter's anniversary gift.
My Utmost for His Highest - Oswald Chambers - This is a devotional I do with my quiet times. I like it a lot, he's very challenging, and says things in a way that's to the point. Big fan of this one, but it's slow going of course. I'll likely finish in a year or so. Maybe.
Voices of the Faithful - Beth Moore - Another devotional, each day is written by a different missionary. It's neat. I love missionary stories. Again, will likely be done in a year or so.
The Cure for the Common Life - Max Lucado - Okay, I have kind of quit reading this one. I loved the first few things I read of his, but now, it just seems like his writing is all the same. This book seems to be Waking the Dead by John Eldridge, but not as gripping a read. Note: read Waking the Dead by John Eldridge. Read anything by him. They (Max's books) just seem so....I don't know. Gimickey maybe? I loved some of his other books, but though he has good things to say, the way he writes just distracts me. I've given up on this one I think. Maybe I'll give it to someone. Any takers? Now that I've made it sound so great?
Book Recommendations:
Peter and I also listen to books on tape, especially when we go on roadtrips. The one we just finished was called Locked Rooms, written by Laurie R King. She writes books about Sherlock Holmes and his wife, Mary Russel. She's clever and funny, and her mysteries are great. I read another of her books, A Darker Place, but it suprised me with a needless sex scene (the Sherlock Holmes books were very tame), and other than that, it was good, but a little, well, dark I guess.
Peter is reading Black, White, and Red, by Ted Dekker, which are very good and I highly recommend. However, Ted Dekker and Frank Peretti wrote a book together called House - not very good at all. Don't spend the money. I was very suprised at how cheesy and, well, lame it was. Anything else by Ted I like, and anything else by Frank, for that matter. Weird. Maybe it's like ice cream, and lasagna. Both are yummy, don't mix them.
If you have, for some reason, not read the Voice in the Wind trilogy by Francine Rivers, spend the money. Buy them all, you'll read them at least twice. Peter's best friend Eric loved them, said he cried so many times reading them that he couldn't begin to count. They are incredible, and they are next on Peter's recommended reading list, as given to him by his wife. They're brilliant as are most things by Francine Rivers. Redeeming Love may be my next favorite though. I've read it about four times. The Last Sin Eater, and the Atonement Child are her next best and in that order.
There you have it. Pick up a book, grab a cold drink and go lay in the sunshine. Gosh, that sounds good right now. If I weren't so unbelievably sunburned, I'd be gone. Ah well, I'll grab another coffee and get back to Mr. Darcy, and the lovely Bennet girls. Except Lydia, I can't stand that little brat. Hope she falls down a well.

Home is where the heart is...

7.24.2006 11:08 AM 11 2009 Melanie 8 comments
That's what they say, anyway. If home is where the heart is, then I'm in serious trouble. I've left my heart all over the place, even in San Francisco, though I was only there two days. That's the trouble with me perhaps. I don't know where I belong anymore, I feel connected to places I may never be again, and to places I haven't gone yet.
I feel connected here. This is the Tetons, I was there just a few weeks ago. I feel connected to this annoying little town I hate, where I've lived for nearly a year. I know the best place to get what groceries, the best place to eat. I know street names, and directions. I live here. My license plate is marked Gillette. Yipes. When we leave to come back to Canada, I will miss some things here. I like sitting on my inlaws deck, watching the storms. I like going to the gym with our friends, and grabbing dinner afterward. I like playing with my niece.
I feel connected here, to a village in Nepal. I think I've actually been right here. I know people in these little towns, I know their names. One of them, I led to Christ over some chai. I've walked those long uphill trails, I've watched the Jesus film holding their children. One child in this town, found me alone in the woods, and taught me to make a grass whistle. We never spoke a word to each other, but we laughed a lot. I became an adult in Nepal, and faced some of my worst fears. This is where I developed the introverted side of me that I still cling to. Something that's just mine. Nepal gave me that, and the ability to not only like being alone, but the knowledge that it's necessary. This is the only place I've been, where I still struggle to explain all that I saw and went through. Nepal holds secrets for me.
This is the Old Airport Beach in Kailua-Kona, where I lived for nearly two years. I've sat on this beach and watched the sun go down here numerous times. I've had small group meetings here. I had a barbeque right here one night, and my guy friend asked me while I was grilling some steak, "Mel, are you attracted to Pete?". I told him I didn't know, and then, I didn't. Now we're married and I want to go sit on this beach with him again. I want Thai food from the restaurant here. I loved this little town. I loved racing my little moped up and down the old airstrip.
I miss people in India. I've been three times, and never been to the TajMahal. There's a little girl who sells postcards in Varanasi, in a pink dress I bought her. We fought off some bullies together one day, who were annoying her. I taught her to say "get lost" in English. I promised to send her a postcard, and never did. Maybe I still will. There's an old man in a Mother Teresa Home, that had no legs, that I "danced" with once a week. The only thing he had to his name, was a cot in a room with no walls. He smiled a lot, and wanted me to take him back to Canada with me. As did the orphans I held there, and a little demon possessed boy I prayed with there, and left screaming on the stairs as I drove away. You can't keep your heart in places like these.
I miss Kyoto, Japan. I found a little bit of myself in Japan, wandering through Kyoto, trying not to get high on the opium and incense burning everwhere. I've also stood right here, staring at this temple, with a million other tourists, but everyone is quiet in these places. I love the Japanese people, and there is something truly mystical about Kyoto, it's a piece of an ancient world, surrounded by all that is modern and advanced. It reminds me to hold on to some things, not to trade everything in for something else, simply because it's new, or seems more convenient, or grown up.
And this is one of my favorite spots at my favorite time of day. I've come here at all different times in my life, with different people, and just don't have one bad or difficult memory of this place. Peter and I set sail from here on our honeymoon. I've gone for dessert and drinks in the Bengal Lounge in the Empress, and listened to live jazz. I've fallen over laughing on the lawn of that hotel, at something Peter said. I've hung out with Lindsay and Loren here. My parents took me here when I was young. I think, nearly everyone I really truly love to be with, has been here with me at one point or another. Part of me really belongs in BC, there's something about the island, that gives me an, "I was created for this place" feeling.
Peter and I want to live here. And I can't get a visa in the States, for love nor money. Well, money maybe, but not an amount that I have. We're coming back in October and getting Peter his permanent resident status (faster, easier, and cheaper). And then we'll go back to ywam for a while before coming and setting in here for a bit. I will never settle down, I will travel, as will our children. There's something about seeing different parts of the world that gives you a gift you can't get from anything else. I want my kids to experience this. But it takes something from you. I'm connected everywhere, and nowhere. I don't know what feeling "at home" is. I don't know where I'm from.
I guess, the place that is most home to me, is Peter. In most of these places, I see exotic pictures of things, but remember people. I hope I pass this on. I'm coming to another round of goodbyes in my life, which I hate, and for the amount that I've said, am really, really bad at. But I have Peter with me, and in that way, it's kind of like having home with you all the time. I get nostalgic when I leave places, sorry for the long and sappy post.

What's a Boy to Do?

7.18.2006 2:38 PM 11 2009 Melanie 8 comments
Women's libbers will string me up for this post, I'm sure. Go ahead.
Loren Cunningham (founder of ywam) wrote a book called "Why Not Women?" about releasing women into their callings in leadership. Nice idea, especially in ywam where women outnumber men at least two to one. Women have to be in leadership then. I don't love it, but someone's got to step up, and men don't seem to do that as much anymore. I don't know if women are just getting too dominating, or men too passive, but it sucks either way. In most of my experience, due to whatever reason (read Wild at Heart, there's a few) men seem to back down, because they are attacked by Satan in that he tells them "You don't measure up, and you never will." So they do one of two things, become abusive, or passive. Women get attacked, and either seek more abuse, or become controlling. The passive side of men, and the controlling side of women, scares me. Women can be in leadership, they should be, but they do tend to be a bit controlling when they do. They don't lead as women. They try to be men, and it all goes south from there. I would like to see a real woman leader. But I have this, hmm, calling? to see real men of God again.

I remember that this is why I fell in love with Peter. I told him once, that I would never have told him how I felt about him, and if he hadn't done something, I would have left it. More than anything else, I wanted a Christian guy with a little initiative. Grow a spine. Be a man. I don't want to be the leader, I wasn't made to do it. You were. And he did. He stepped up, I fell in love and the rest is history. He leads like that too, in YWAM. I was amazed at this side of him. There's this quiet intensity about him that gives him authority without him having to say much. I remember this one time, this guy on our India team got in line for food with all of us, and he was in front of all the girls. Peter jokingly said "Hey man, get back here, let the girls go first". He laughed and said no, and stayed where he was. Peter said more firmly, still smiling "Seriously buddy, get back here with the guys. Ladies first" The guy stood up a little straighter and said no, he was fine thanks. Gone was the smile. Peter said very quietly and firmly "Hey. If you are any kind of man at all, you let the ladies go first. Get back here." And that was that.

Chivalry is not a "lost art", it's the sign of a true man. I like having my door opened for me, to have Peter carry things that are heavy. I don't think you'll find a woman who doesn't. It took forever for me to get used to this. My standard response was "No, I'm okay, I can do it." Who freaking cares what I can do? Yes I can lead if I have to. Yes, I can be alone if I need to. Yes, I can carry my groceries up three flights of stairs by myself. But what for? What do I have to prove? Peter's common response to me was, for a long time, "yes, I know you can do it, but I'd like to, if you don't mind." Letting him help me makes him feel like a man. And I want a man. I don't want to do it by myself. Men and women were created for each other. Men are supposed to be the head of the family. The moment that is abused, and isn't done in a sacrificial way, it's gone. The authority they had is toast. But when it's done right, the way God instructs men to lead, there's no reason for me to feel like I need to prove anything. I have no problem submitting to Peter, because he strives to be like this. But if he drops the ball, and I pick it up and try to lead, then we run into issues. I'm not supposed to be the head of this family. The most loving thing I can do to support him, is (gasp!) submit to him. Not lay down dead, but let him lead. Believe that he can lead. If he drops the ball, as is bound to happen from time to time, let him pick it up again. This is HARD for me, and like most hard things, worth the effort.

I want to raise boys with this amazing man I've found. I want to have boys. I actually believe we're having boys, and that maybe, I'll have a little girl last. I was reading about David and his sons a while ago, and so strongly felt that God was going to give us boys first. Weird. I pray for this man I have, that he'll be strong, and that our sons will be like him. That they'll marry girls who will appreciate strong chivalrous men, who sweep women off their feet, and are grounded in who God says they are. I feel so passionately that a lot of what is wrong in society is due to the fracturing of the biblical family, and the absence of real father figures in men's lives. And in women's lives too. Men don't know how to lead anymore. How to commit, and be strong. How to love tenderly, while still being a real man. They've run out of examples. This is my people group, the fractured family. This is my missionary nation, and I'm going. I want to be a part of reaching these families.

Go to this site, listen to the words of the song, "What's a boy to do?" It's a hearbreaking statement about men in this world. It's number seven on the CD player. If you're my mom, and can't ever make out the words in any song but a country song, you can read the lyrics here too. Don't worry mom, this one doesn't rap.

I'm sure that I'm moving to St. Louis
Three long years wondering here in New York City
I guess I'm looking for the right way to do this
I guess I'm looking for the right things to call pretty
Young boys playing in the park turning their backs to take a shot
You know I'll stay sharp around here 'cause they're the stoning and leaving type
It's the kind of love that comes and goes when there's company coming around
What's a boy to do who knows no man now?
What's a boy to do who knows no man now?

Daddy's been looking down his nose at all of them
And I've been looking round for someone to tell me who I am
He kept saying I was too young to finish a fight
I'd die each time they came I never got to draw my knife
Well it was just a pair of shoes in a middle school room with the world watching in
An angel is crying I'm dying just a little inside as they ran away
Funny which words stick around 20 years down when you're driving alone
What's a boy to do when there's no man at home?
What's a boy to do when there's no man at home?

Well I'll stack all my books into perfect rows
From the biggest down to the smallest ones
And I buy all the perfect clothes
Bullet proof and black, where I look like a son
Well it was just a rainy night at his house
A bottle spinning around the room
And everybody's singing and slipping down the bottom of a halfway rush of blood
And I was grabbing Missy but I was trying to find the light switch in the dark
What's a boy to do with no man in his heart?
What's a boy to do with no man in his heart?

It's all quiet for the first time
With no voices left to fall
I saw a boy at the bottom of the bridge
His car was left there on the top
It's four o'clock in the morning
Didn't need to be like this
There's a white sheet left to cover up
What should have been a holy kiss
It's not like those days
It's not like I'm scared of you
What's the Son of Man and a boy to do?
What's the Son of Man and a boy to do?

Are you sitting down?

7.11.2006 3:46 PM 11 2009 Melanie 7 comments
My husband blogged. Maybe if everyone could go there and comment, he'd be encouraged to do it more often?
Anyway, he even put up pictures of our camping trip, so if you're wanting more of those, you can see them there. He hasn't converted to blogger yet, but the layout for his msn one is so cool.
So there you go. Here's my show of support for Peter, and his blogging. Plus, he's super hot and maybe if I do some shameless advertising for him, he'll make out with me.

Running Scared

7.10.2006 11:00 AM 11 2009 Melanie 7 comments
This weekend Peter and I went camping again. We camped next to a beautiful stream and spent Saturday hiking to the Lost Twin Lakes. It was amazing. It's about a 16km hike total, with about 1500 feet elevation gain, so not completely insane, but tough. We ate a picnic lunch next to the lakes and had a wonderful day. The cliffs coming out of the lakes are about 1500 feet high or so, and the view, as you can see in the pictures below, was spectacular, and well worth the blistered feet and sunburn.When we got back on Saturday, we napped in our tent nursing our sore feet, and it started to rain, so we just hid out.

A really beautiful trip, and again, I can't get over how much I just love hanging out with him. We spent Friday night driving there, and setting up camp, and then I made some steak and we drank a bottle of wine next to our huge fire, and he played the guitar and we worshipped and relaxed. It was wonderful. Why then, the reason for this title? Let me explain:

Sunday morning, before we were to leave, Peter wanted to get a little fly fishing in. Sounds good. He was going to go for just over an hour. I was going to pack up camp for him, and because he knows my tendancy to worry, he told me he'd be back by about noon, and that I could start worrying about him at 12:15. He's pretty understanding of my silly worries, and insecurities. I packed up, took a quick "bath" in the stream, and settled on a log to wait the last 15 minutes or so. Half an hour later, he still wasn't there, and I wasn't worried, just annoyed that he wasn't looking at his cell phone clock, and getting bored and sore from my post on the tree. Half an hour after that, I was done being mad at him and getting a little worried. He was nearly an hour late, and now I was panicked. I couldn't figure out any reason for him to be late, barring bodily harm, while he had a clock. An hour late when you're leaving for six hours, is something. Being an hour late when you're only going for an hour, out in the wilderness alone, is quite another.

Now, I've read "Wild at Heart". I agree with it. I know I need to let him be a man, do boy things, be alone sometimes. We weren't camping in a campground, just up in the mountains. But Peter knows me. He knows after a certain amount of time, I'm unable to not worry. And then the fear hits, and your brain goes insane, and nothing rational makes the slightest bit of sense. I was terrified. I thought he'd slipped and fell in the stream and hit his head, or broken his leg. I contempated him being mauled by a bear, or a moose (thanks Becky) or bitten by a snake (this is Wyoming after all). I couldn't stand it anymore. I used my fallen tree to cross the stream and headed off in the direction I knew he'd gone. He was fishing, so I figured I could stay close to the stream and hopefully I would find him. I wanted to yell for him, so that we wouldn't pass each other in the woods, but the act of calling for him with no answer freaked me out more, and as any woman can imagine, within a couple of minutes, I was pretty upset. I was running through the trees crying, calling for him, not finding him and not getting a response. Then I turned around and saw his backpack laying there, with no one around it. It felt like a scene in a bad movie. This is when my last bit of rationale left me completely. I lost it. I was shaking so hard I couldn't think, and couldn't see him anywhere, and couldn't figure out why his backpack would be there and not him. I was screaming for him and bawling and running though the trees and all of a sudden, I came out of the trees, and he was across a meadow, chasing "the biggest fish he'd ever seen" up the stream. I screamed for him, and just collapsed. I've never been so scared, or so relieved in my life. He ran up, thinking I was hurt, and almost died when I told him what time it was. It took a few minutes, but I calmed down, and quit shaking, and nearly threw up (my way of dealing with stress it seems).

I have severe issues with fear, especially fear of being abandoned. I have trouble enjoying things becuase I know they can't stay good forever, meaning, to me, something bad is usually about to happen. I had every reason to be worried, even scared, but this reaction was a little much. That's the problem with fear, and with all sin I guess. It escalates. I'm never just a little worried. I'm a little worried, then I'm scared, then I'm terrified, then I'm wondering what it will be like to be widowed at the age of 24 and how I will live alone the rest of my life. I'm working on this. This morning, I looked up some verses on fear and came to this conclusion: Fear is a distrust of who God says he is. Man, and I thought I just had occasional panic attacks. Nope, I don't trust God in some areas. I allow my past experiences to shape my view of God. It's wrong - it's blatant sin. I'm working on it, and will continue to do so, likely for a long long time. I don't think God is going to "quick fix" anything for me in this area. I'm learning way too much the slow way.

In Peter's defense, he has promised me never to leave on his own again without a watch strapped to his arm. He had his cell with him, though totally out of service range, it had a clock on it, but the backpack it was in, was red, and "scaring the fish away". He left it, tried to judge the passing time, got distracted. He felt terrible, especially holding his mess of a wife shaking in the grass. We drove home, I had a long bath, and he took me out to a nice dinner, and then we got some strawberries and came home and watched the food network. I'm a lucky girl. Anyway, here are some pictures of the trip for you all, now that I've documented my total insanity.

The Benefit of the Doubt

7.05.2006 4:22 PM 11 2009 Melanie 7 comments
This is a long one folks, but if you're reading this, it's meant for you, so read on, if you like.

I am the queen of sticking my foot in my mouth. Do it all the time. When I was about 10 or so, we went to this rich persons house (some business thing for dad maybe?) and they had the most interesting accent. Couldn't put my foot on it...then she asked me how I liked school, and I went on a long rant about liking school except French. Don't know why we have to learn French and on and on...Remember the accent I couldn't place? You know the rest. I'm an idiot sometimes. I do this often. I don't mean to. I'm trying to get better, but this is just a funny thing about me. I don't like it, it gets me into trouble, I'm trying to change. What else can you do?

I had this friend when I got out of high school, and she'd had a rough past, really rough, and a lot of issues. She kind of took her own issues and projected them. She, like every girl, had issues with her body, and so constantly attacked mine, in a rather rude way sometimes, even if she didn't mean it to be that way. I felt bad for her, so I never brought up the way it kind of hurt my feelings. She didn't need that. But it grated on me, and hurt, and we never really were the kind of friends I would have hoped we would be. For this reason. I couldn't relax around her. Some days I'm too pushy, too outspoken, sometimes I hurt people's feelings without meaning to. I can promise any of those people, that I hate it more than they do. It's embarassing. But it is a little part of me. A part I don't like? Yes. A part that I apologize for, if you've encountered it? Absolutely. A part that I am changing? You betcha. Give me some time, it's gonna take a while...

But with my friend, I could never let my guard down long enough for that to happen. I walked on eggshells with her, and I wonder sometimes, if that isn't worse? I don't think that people have to watch what they say around me. I'm pretty good at hearing people. Most of the time...

I think, the measure of a true friend, or the measure of true family, is the ability to freak out, say things you don't mean, be human and have it all be okay the next day. I have a few friends like this, a precious few, and I think I may write them or call them today and tell them how much I love them for this gift they give me. This benefit, as the case may be. I want to be able to act out sometimes, and have someone, anyone, see that action and say "Hey, that's not the Melanie I know. I know that she would never do this if she knew it would hurt me." or say "She means to hurt me, she's upset, she's hurt herself, and she's lashing out, and I'm not going to react to that. I'm going to react to what I know to be true about her."

I don't do this enough for others. I can see some idiot on the highway go flying by us at a completely unreasonable speed, and think, "maybe his wife is in the backseat, in labour, and they're trying to get to the hospital". I have a harder time doing it with people I know and love. I want to be this person to my friends and family. And I want to be able to have this extended back to me. I'm sorry, if ever, I've said anything to you in passing, that hurt you. I didn't mean it. If I did mean it, I'm sorry, I'm human, I'm growing and sometimes I'm annoying and loud and I lash out when I should take a minute, shut up, and pray and get my act together.

My husband embodies this for me. I'm blessed for every day we spend together. He just knows me. I can't explain it better than that. I can freak out, it's okay. He knows that when I react, sometimes I just react. I can't help it, I hate it, and he almost never gets down on my level to battle me when I'm hurt or angry or upset. He knows to ignore me when I'm crying sometimes, that it may not mean anything, so don't make me explain. If I upset him when I'm angry at something else, or say something I don't mean, he knows how to wait, tell me later, and be completely forgiving before I'd ever even know to say I'm sorry. And we never ever joke about something we're actually upset about. It's mean, it never works, and it's a poor excuse to get your point across without having a conversation. We don't allow it. It's up there in our marriage rules with not going to bed mad, or folding towels a certain way.

I wish I could sit down for coffee with everyone I know and just say this: I don't mean to be the way I am sometimes. I hate how human I am. I'd be the perfect friend, sister, daughter, wife, granddaughter, cousin, auntie, if only I had it in my power. In the meantime though, could you give me the benefit of the doubt? We'll probably fight sometime in the future, if you're my sister, we may fight before the day is out, but no matter what happens, know this:
I would be perfect for you if I could. You're important to me. I hate the things I can say and do more than they may hurt you. I'm sorry already. Know that I love you first, and everything else you may perceive about me is less true than that one thing. And I have no problem with changing myself. And God has no problem at all with changing who I am. He's not really all that concerned with how I view my identity outside of him. So give me the benefit of the doubt, or just try to, and that's enough for me. I promise I'll try to do the same.

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