"breathing through fear"

two days ago i walked outside during my break in the middle of my math class in order to step into the warm, breezy, dark afternoon sphere that captivated my attention in every waking moment that day until i stood in it.

i had been reading a moving, strange poem written in 1968 by a man named Juan Gelman of Argentina, entitled "Conversations."

centered around the author's feelings in relation to the recent loss in the hero named Ernesto 'Che' Guevara, the words stirred in me a desire to write verse.

and after my walk, barefoot through the mud around a new building site on campus, i sat down in the classroom in the moments before we reinitiated the lecture and put pen to the paper, finding within me, these words:

"Breathing Through Fear"
[Archer. 22 July 2008]

it's funny to me the heads that turn
the eyes that burn into me, my jacket,
my beloved Esther alive in earth tones,
ensconced in warm dirt and clay.

i walk unshod
the sole figure
an embraced soul
the bleedings soles
through the mud
and burning sand
spirit in hand
the wind dies
to just a whisper
i tread through treads
of yellow beasts far bigger than i
holding my own
breathing through fear
thick in the air
He in my ear
He, the wind, and my warm feet
what else could i need?



.PAX.
-Archer

Food Not Bombs

i just called their number that i found listed in a couple places online, and i talked to a very friendly and easy-going Desiree, who's gotten hundreds of calls, probably, as so many people have been looking for FNB apparently.

she took my email and is going to pass along that and my number to people she's in contact with where she's at in Bloomington now.

apparently they're going to be camping out in northern indiana to block the building of a mexico-canada interstate, this May.

i don't know if i can join them, but i'd love to once i learn more about the situation.

basically, this is pretty cool, just thought i'd share it since i feel like i could really get involved in some stuff now!

PAX.

doing singleness the wrong way...

flipping shut the novel i checked out of the library here on the base a few days ago, a murder mystery called 'The Poet', i'm nearly to page 100 of the paperback, and the action's starting to kick into high gear, as the protagonist, Jack McEvoy--a homicide reporter at a Denver newspaper--stumbles onto a theory that link's his cop brother's recent suicide with another cop suicide 2000 miles away in Chicago, making it look like a serial killer. he sets his sights on Chicago, D.C., and the FBI HQ on the east coast, aiming to track down this story.

McEvoy's a 35-year-old bachelor who's lived in the same apartment for the past 9 years, working the same reporter beat at the paper.

reading about his life suddenly taking a turn for... (at least) the more interesting and exciting, i found myself strapping on my bag, slipping into my sandals, throwing on my shirt, shrugging sleep off, grabbing my 1.5 liter Kilimanjaro water bottle, with the label ripped off, and heading down the steps from my bunk in the dorm room, toward the bathroom. stop at the sink on the way out, scrub my face with water and wake myself up, then run my fingers through my hair that i'm growing out in a rather mottley fashion, and head out into the open courtyard, feeling invincible.

standing coolly in the shadows, my unkempt brown hair striking strange shadows across the tan bricks and chop-cut grass behind the short bushes, i breathe deeply, and suddenly realize the attitude shift that's come over me.

i suddenly feel like i'm on top of the world. i'm only going to check my email and perhaps blog a bit, really, so why this high? nothing fancy or new about me... just the bag i spent less than 14 bucks on in town, after getting a wad of cash out of the NBC ATM in Arusha. maybe it's because everything went so smoothly, or just because i am dwelling so much in God's goodness to me, that i'm frankly forgetting the key to all of this:

once i get to feeling this good, i'm likely to forget where the source of this joy really is.

i am liable to phase God out of the celebration, right at the kick-off.

i am on the verge of doing singleness the wrong way. where i start to get the hyper-inflated sense of self-worth, and my own ability to get involved and actually influence things. me and my intentionally shabby appearance begin to form an ego to go along with the care-freeness of it all.

i gotta remember--and reclaim--the simple truth of this only working if it's only about Jesus. not about being single.
the latter's great and all, but not if it's not filled in by something much, much better!

it's a daily thing: re-working on that. but it's good. just can't get too caught up with the crazy hair and the deadly hyper-inflation of Asher.

Peace.
Jesus.
Love.

-archer

until next monday...

...i'm feeling much better. the expunging of my systems cleared everything out, as i figured, and after spending an hour and a half, sleeping on the bathroom stall floor, my head resting on my roll of toilet paper, my own body crumpled into itself in muted pain, until 11pm... waking this morning was a blessing!

i feel so much more alive! it's beautiful! God really is good! i strangely found myself softly humming and trying to remember all the words to a good worship song last night, before i laid down on the stall floor. it was interesting, just seeing that despite my near agony, i could be thankful that in literally everything, God's presence never changes!

the weather today is amazing... feels like the first week of summer... the last week of classes. the perfect breeze, the reasonably cool and warm temperatures. the decent cloud cover from time to time. it feels really good. really peaceful!

i'm gonna go back to class now... it's kinda cool that even being in class is starting to fill me with fond memories of high school and that one random year of college (that probably won't be the last of my 'higher education', considering new "revelations" of sorts)...

life is good.
God is good.
Peace to you all, brothers and sisters.

(i have every intention of not eating anything but the bread-and-butter breakfast on sunday... i'm in no mood for a fifth knock-out round!)

PAX.

Eliska Dali

i know so little about her. but i had the chance to get to know her better a little over a year ago.

i met her on October 5, 2006, and never got to see her, or anyone else i met that day, ever again.

**that's her in the front early in 2006, protesting Alito, and the woman behind her is her counterpart. she doesn't seem to like being "safely distant" from her challenges.**

my brother, Micah, and i were at Willard Park in downtown Cleveland, with my friend from college, Bri. there were about 400 other people there throughout the morning and afternoon.

i was skipping a math class, Micah was skipping the whole day of high school sophomore classes, and Bri was skipping... God only knows what. that was sorta her thing last year. skipping classes, chilling with me (for the first part of the fall semester, until the lure of the Gamers' Guild dragged her away from me on most days :) ) during her lunch break and when she was supposed to be in class. oh no, wait, that day she didn't need to skip. October 5 was a thursday, and she only had classes on mondays and wednesdays. she'd come up to the school by bus just to join me on another couple of bus rides into the fringes of northern downtown Cleveland.

to march against the Bush Regime.

and that was where we met Eliska Dali. we had no idea she was one of the organizers and leaders of the protest and march, but since Bri and Micah (who'd come up with a friend of his, a kid on the school newspaper staff or something like that, to do a story) and i were clueless of how to get involved, we found Eliska early on. i think she was smoking. almost everyone there was. i probably stuck out like a sore thumb. maybe that's why she and Ray, another leader, came over to talk to us and hand out literature.

i was beginning to be really thankful i'd brought my satchel when i had found the need to put several newspapers from the U.S. Communist party in there to disperse back at school later. after handing us flyers and stuff for ourselves, we were invited to go to the heart of downtown: Public Square. we went there at lunch break on a thursday afternoon, and handed flyers to people in suits and ties, blazers and enough rolex merchandise to feed the city for the day. we also handed them to those who maybe weren't able to have lunch for the day. and of course in Cleveland, due to the oppression of poverty and the inadequte city systems, most of the latter were black. most of the former were, of course, white. and most of the former wouldn't even touch the papers.

and then you had the people who would grunt and walk off when they saw you. to be honest, we were a motly crew. Micah and i had really long hair at the time, we both had fingerless gloves. and not one of the three guys in that spot (Bri was the rebel, as usual, and was the only girl) hadn't shaved in God knows how long.

during the march, Micah was back somewheres in the middle, Bri and i were at the front, helping control the large blue banner amidst the terrifying gusts of autumn Cleveland wind. at one point Ray put the microphone to my lips as i held the banner in one hand, thrusting my other fist into the air with each beat of the chant we were all screaming.

those same men and women with the rolexes and clean-shaven faces watched from windows several stories away as i lost my voice, raising the morale of the 400 or so protestors, disturbing downtown rush-hour traffic.

it was a good day though. a pacifist organization called Food Not Bombs fed us at the end of the march, around 5.30 or 6ish. Bri lit up again. Eliska stood and talked with the three of us, as we finished our soup in styrofoam cups with plastic spoons that three other people had likely already used.

and then we headed out from there, and i parted ways with Eliska Dali and Ray. however, i maintined phone communique with both of them for several weeks afterwards, until the protest mentality in me died off, and my activism was geared once more FOR Africa, and no longer to heavily AGAINST Bush.
***
but recent events here at the base have brought that protest mentality back to mind. and Eliska's name naturally popped back into my head. i haven't learned anything of her fate ever after that day, but googling her name today revealed several interesting stories of her activism in the beginning of 2006.

i wonder where she is now. i wonder who she'll vote for next year. i wonder about too many things...

Love and Peace or Else, brothers and sisters.

the straps of my sandals are my home. whenever i am wearing them... i know God has me exactly where he wants me..

i don't know much about my future... i barely know my next step... i pray for incredible courage as i lift my feet to plant them in the straps of my sandals. once they are there and i take the next step, my fears will susbide and i will truly depend on you, my beloved and beautiful Adonai!

I pray that you will never leave me, although i already know that you have never even allowed an inkling of such a thought to occur to you.

I will depend on you and some of my brothers and sisters and your work through them to survive the rest of my life, my God, my King!

I will stand in your presence every moment of my life... i will bow at your feet and thank you and praise you for everyone you send my way.

i will thank you every waking moment for the beautiful and upright woman you have blessed me with as a companion. we will strive on, seeking you every morning.

i love my sandals, God, i love that once i put them on, i will have everything in the world. the clothes on my back and the bread on my table, or the water running between my fingers... God you will provide. whether i sleep under the stars or a roof made of drywall and plumbing, or plaster, or tin sheeting.... God i will ever be under your wings.

When i come home to you, leaving this earth, i will be most thankful, and i will really truly understand the depths of your love...

but i know that from the moment i put my sandals on, i will be with you in ALL that i do... God let your piller of fire-- your shakainah-- be ever present. and be unto everyone i know, everyone i encounter, everyone i love, exactly what you are to me-- my strength, my hope, my courage, and most importantly, your are simply my plan, God.

i love you, Adonai, and i thank you with every fiber of my being and every strand of my soul...

Amen.

the half door and the whole new promise!

My new dear friend and comrade named Emily was the half door. The most desperately confusing of my dilemmas was how to hang onto a good friendship with her, in spite of a growing attraction to her that I sensed in myself.

Yesterday, I told her flat out what the issues were within myself. We both feel really good about not trying a romantic relationship or anything of the sort. Friends-with-benefits is also out of the question! We are in fact quite content with simply being there for each other. I need her and I think she needs me.

Today she gave me a book, hiked with me, and let me break through her mask.

DC Talk wrote a book in 2001 called “Live Like a Jesus Freak”, as a companion to their previous book(s) about Jesus Freaks around the world. We’ve been talking a lot in recent days about what it will mean to really live for/like Jesus in our future- and present-tense selfs.

We have talked about Africa, college (and the idea of the lack-thereof), the reality of death and martyrdom for something real, the excitement of having no plans, the possibility of disappearance in order to actually accomplish things, the socio-economic (as well as the natural) stance of Phoenix, Arizona… and just about everything you never hear normal college kids talk about.

We talked about being real and intense and we both agree that we’ve finally met someone as crazy as ourselves! ☺ For we are quite few and far between.

We talked about the Native American reservations, Thailand, Mexico, Tanzania, China, Panama, and Uganda. We talked about how gross suburbs and developments are, and how all they ever do is give birth to themselves (the kind of stable environment that will die out when a new visitor or intruder is introduced). We talked about hating life here in its fakeness and apathy.

We even each tried a taste of some random plant I thought was a mint leaf until I put it in my mouth and thought it might be poison ivy, but thankfully she (being a wannabe Native American!) confirmed for me it is not!

Finally I am breaking out of this place and I am remembering who I exist for, and who I want to exist with. If I live my whole life in steady communication with people like Emily, I have a vague feeling that I should be doing just fine.

This really long blog is an attempt to give Em a shout-out and state that I have re-entered God’s arms for the millionth time in the past year, and maybe with the help of this book she’s given me, I’ll never be truly homesick again.

Thanks, Em.


Peace of Adonai be with you all.

YWAM (updated) & Isaiah

ok, so, it looks like i will be definitely taking a year off from school, starting with a DTS (Discipleship Training School) with YWAM in Arusha, Tanzania, from September 10, to January 25, 2008!

After that, it looks to me like I won't have a chance to begin even a spring semester. And frankly, I'm cool with that. pretty much the sweetest thing ever, because regardless of the events and locations my family will be at in the coming year, I will likely be spending some more time back in Arusha, with YWAM hopefully! I'll probably roll a bit in Indiana, Ohio, West Virginia, and Africa! :) random list, woohoo!

Oh, and here's this sweet passage I found from Isaiah this morning:

"Learn to do good.
Seek justice.
Help the oppressed.
Defend the cause of orphans.
Fight for the rights of widows."
-Isaiah 1:17 (New Living Translation)

check it. i love it!

pax, yo!