fiddle*sticks

Because Everyone is Entitled to My Opinion

An Attempt October 14, 2006

Filed under: Oh I Do Love Me Some Jesus — violin3679 @ 11:56 pm

This poem sums up so much of what I haven’t been able to put into words. When you say you’re a Christian people put up their anti-ballistics shields. Personal security alerts are raised to red in anticipation of spiritual terrorism. And beyond that, expectations are unfounded and misguided. I’m not capable of living a perfect life, and my mistakes don’t make me a hypocrite. I’m not going to try to explain anymore. Maya’s got my back.

Christian

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not shouting “I’m clean livin.”
I’m whispering “I was lost,”
Now I’m found and forgiven.

When I say…”I am a Christian”
I don’t speak of this with pride.
I’m confessing that I stumble
and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not trying to be strong.
I’m professing that I’m weak
and need HIS strength to carry on.

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not bragging of success.
I’m admitting I have failed
and need God to clean my mess.

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
but, God believes I am worth it.

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I still feel the sting of pain,
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not holier than thou,
I’m just a simple sinner
who received God’s good grace, somehow.

~Maya Angelou~

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Haikus and Jicama

Filed under: Oh the Rambling it is Endless — violin3679 @ 11:01 pm

Saturday just feels different, doesn’t it? I start every Saturday out the same way. Get up, turn on the iTunes, bop around while I mop, vacuum, dust, do dishes, pry boyfriend from couch, fluff couch, then light yummy smelly candles. All the while, the sun just streams through the windows differently. The sky looks a little bluer, or if it’s raining, it’s deliciously darker. Since I work such ridiculous hours, Saturday is my only day to clean. I teach Saturday mornings, so it’s good that I always have that extra incentive to clean thoroughly. Company’s coming! God forbid they should see last night’s gooey pots and pans. I’m sure they wouldn’t care, but I really, really do.

But oh, Saturday. Once the teaching’s done, the day is wide open to do whatever I want. I spent today spending some time with a sweet girl that I usually teach on Wednesdays. She’s got an audition coming up, so we’re putting in some extra time. It feels good to be plugged in to the younger generation, even if I don’t understand WHAT is SO GREAT about Good Charlotte, or whatever stuff they’re listening to these days. Those whippersnappers, I tell you…

It’s funny, even though the styles and the music and the circumstances change, 14 is 14 is 14. Parents still have the same complaints, girls are still kicking and biting for every inch of ‘freedom’ they can possess, and oh the boys boys boys. The he-said, she-said never changes and school perpetually sucks. The part that makes my heart ache the most is how MUCH these kids thirst for approval. The majority of my students are in middle school and high school, and oh, the lengths they’ll go to, the things they’ll do, the individuality they’ll betray just to feel included, wanted, signficant. I suppose we all have to go through that, but at what cost? Isn’t there some class they can take where we adults show them where all the wrong paths lead? Pregnancy, rape, drugs, complacency, apathy, misery. For crying out loud kids, just don’t do it! I love ’em so. I do I do I do.

Anyway.

I went out last night. Like…OUT out. Yay! Man, that was the first time in I don’t know when that I’ve been downtown (Atlanta). Grace and I went to a cool little tapas restaurant where we could write on the tables. Oh yeah. We left a sweet haiku for our waitress. 😉 We had duck tostadas with mole sauce, and crab cakes on jicama salad. It was deLIcious. Then we went to uber-trendy Bazaar and sat on couches with moroccan lanterns and pillows in a room that could only have been darker if they had turned the lights completely out. The place was bumpin’ though, and the music was great. The only bummer, I came out smelling like an ashtray. But, hey, it’s a small price to pay for a night of freedom. Thank you, Grace, for dragging my sorry bee-hiney out even when I don’t want to go.