I am a carnivore

I know I know. That's the wrong word for us... Nice people get a nervous smile on their face when I say that and quietly whisper, "now Juli, you are an omnivore. That's what you are." or something like that. But I just like saying that. It's fun to say. And I also like the expressions on the faces of two of my housemates who are vegetarian. They like it too.

I haven't eaten meat since February 11th when I accidently ate beef inside of my chimichanga on culture night at Baldwin. That next Sunday I had a scare. I got real dizzy in the shower so I got out and threw on some clothes quick and crawled to Jamie's room to pass out. Luckily I never did, but it was close enough to get me thinking about what I'm doing to my body. I am a carnivore. My body likes meat. My stomach asks for it by name. I've been feeding that stuff down my throat for 22 years and my body is begging for an explaination for all the torture.

It started when Katrina, my roomate, sent me a valentine's greeting from PETA. What a lovely greeting. Roses are red, Violets are blue, you have a heart and chickens do too (ok that wasn't really it. I don't remember it). It could have been something as creative as "Roses are red, violets are blue. KFC saws the beaks off their chickens, and feeds them to YOU!" How clever. I should work for PETA. But then I'd have to become some crazy extremist. I get really mad at them. They'd have a half decent following if they went about it the right way. I agree that animals should be treated more decently. I agree chickens' living conditions should not be so bad that they try to peck themselves to death and KFC and Taco Bell would stop sawing their beaks off. I agree cows shouldn't be so sickly in their living conditions that cow killing companies have to force steroids into them just to keep them alive. I agree. It's all sick. I especially get angry when I realize all the rainforests that are supposedly getting cut down to house all these cows. And these don't become pretty little cow pastures, but giant cow industrial killing factories that only pollute the air and water sources even more and shove the native people out of their lands.

BUT... I don't appreciate PETA telling me it is impossible to say you care about the environment if you still eat meat. THAT especially ticked me off. I believe we are carnivores (fine, omnivores, whatever) and I believe we are allowed to eat meat and still not be considered barbarians. I don't agree with the way it's done, but I am willing to fight to make things right... so I can go ahead and eat meat again.

So why am I not eating meat? At first it was cause I watched some disgusting animal killing videos that were attached to my happy valentine's greeting. Then I realized it was time for lent. So I gave up meat and french fries and other fried foods (wow this has been difficult). And then I felt guilty cause I never even let God in on the plan and if I understand lent right, I think you're supposed to let God know. So I realized my main reason was because I hate vegetables. And the only way to get myself to eat vegetables is to deny myself the foods I usually eat to avoid them... cheeseburgers, french fries, chicken nuggets...

I don't know when this will be over, but I'm planning on eating meat again when I like vegetables and salad and stuff like that. I think this will be good also to prepare me for hiking during May because I'm told we won't eat much more than little snacky foods along the way. Sorry for talking about this for way too long. It's really not worth all the words I just spent.

I'm going to go eat a bean burrito.

the Me show

I'm not going to write in this everyday. Someone asked the question the other day, "What did you spend the majority of your time today doing?" You know how those questions usually go... you look at yourself, reflect, realize you did nothing of value and that your piles of homework are stilll waiting for you, untouched, and then ashamedly admit that you failed, yet again. But I was so glad to realize, though I never crossed a single thing off my post-it lists, I spend most of the day in relationships. And I don't mean just hanging out with friends. I mean I got to sit and listen and give advice and encourage and smile and laugh and love and watch the people around me grow. I love it! Those are the times I have to remember to remind myself I am called to some type of ministry. There is a joy I get from people that I get from nothing else. The joy I get from nature is so strong, but in a different way. I'd say a day spent with either of these joys, whether inside with a few people I value or outside all alone in nature, is a day very well spent.

So I won't write in this everyday because I hope most of my words fall off my tongue to another person and not my fingertips onto a keyboard. And I also hope I get outside soon... if this Indiana weather will make up its mind... And though I understand some people can do this every day, I am not that good at managing my time. And well, the only reason I've been writing this week is really because it has been a horribly busy week and I usually do senseless, worthless things when I know there are projects and book reports looming overhead.

I don't want to make this too long, but I realized another thing. Since I am really good at wasting time I don't have, today I was filling in the rest of that profile info that Jared and Pete made me rush through so fast. And I started to feel kind of funny... like, what is the purpose of all this? Why do we do this? Who needs to know my favorite books and movies and music and stuff but the creepy stalker guy that finds out that lo and behold both of you love the movie Monsoon Wedding and then you wonder why you ever shared that information to begin with. And yes, I want to use this to keep my thoughts organized and to keep in touch with people, but the thought struck me... this is a website all about me! Is that why we do it? Come on bloggy people. Let me know the purpose of this. Was selfishness the reality of the whole blog concept? If so, I feel kind of stupid for doing it now.

scrapbook memories

As God's child, I have the freedom to confess things aren't all perfect and pretty all the time. In the past year or so, I have struggled no longer with doubts of His existence. My struggle is whether He cares about me or not. For sure I see God at work in the lives around me and on this campus and all over the world, but it's amazing how easy it is to doubt He works in me. My mind's got a grip on it. My knowledge says an extremely assured YES! But my heart, always doubting, has had a hard time accepting this fact... probably because it's not just a "fact." It's a reality, it's a feeling, it's a soul-surrender to a Greater Being that desires to know ME. And love ME. And would die for ME. My head knows it. My heart just won't accept it.

I wrote this a few nights ago...

Tonight you are a distant memory
I long for you to be by my side.
I sit here and ask to feel your touch,
hear your voice,
see your face.
But I am accompanied only by silence,
and the faint memory of when you were here.
Or was all that just a dream?
I've got this book here
and it begs me flip through its pages.
Says I'll find you there if I do.
Well, I just might give it a try.
I open the scrapbook and my heart smiles.
Though I could never feel more distant from You,
I will remember when I knew You were here.
Psalm 77.

(Even if Your footsteps are unseen)

I won't be all serious all the time with this blog thingy (I can't bring myself to just call it a blog for some silly reason), but this is what's on my mind today. Do you know the feeling? It's frustrating, but intriguing at the same time. You want to give up sometimes but you have an even stronger desire than ever to place your faith in God and see what He does with it.

my voice

I like music. Right now, the guys would be happy to hear that I am listening to Derek Webb because Jared was singing "I Repent" as he came out of the student center and drove off on his little bike. April 10th, Derek Webb and Steven Delopoulos are playing in Kentucky... that's worth the drive. If I could ever see a band back together again, of all the band breakups in history, (and this is a pretty bold statement I think), it would be Burlap to Cashmere. Delopoulos and his cousin came to IWU last semester and it was incredible. Incredibly short, yet still incredible. When it comes to music, I do appreciate lyrics, but lyrics usually just speak to my mind. The sound and feel of the music does something more. I don't know what, but it's that certain gritty sound of the guitar in the middle of U2's "Love and Peace" or the percussion solos in the middle of Gypsy Kings (I get made fun of for that, but I still like the little spurts of joy that Gypsy Kings gives me).

So on this little blog thingy, I will probably talk about music, and I'll probably put lyrics to songs that are meaningful to me. But I don't want to mislead you into thinking all my favorite words are spoken by somebody else... if that makes sense. It's a great thing that music speaks to people in all sorts of ways. That's nothing short of miraculous. Music is miraculous. But it's disappointing when you realize music also has the power to cut off our own words, making us mute. We don't know how to explain our feelings but this song does so we share that song with somebody. We are craving to know God more, yet we forget how to speak to him so we let this worship song be our words. Sometimes that's right and beautiful. But sometimes I catch myself shrinking and quieting and (muting?) and using other peoples' words so much that I haven't used my own voice and opinions for a long while. And I think, wow, this is kind of tragic. And I pull out my journal and I write. And sometimes it takes a week or so to get back into it because I haven't practiced my own voice for awhile. But it comes.

So I'm going to put lyrics on here, yes. But I'm going to put my own stuff on too if you don't mind. It's not that good because some of it was written when I was just remembering how to talk again. So give me some grace here and there, ok?

Use your voice today.
juli

I missed the Eagles

I grew up on wizard 100... I don't remember what it's name is now, but that's what it was back in the day. My whole family listened to that radio station. And anytime I hear oldies it sends me into this glorious daydream where it's summertime and all my brothers live at home again and we're all out in the garage "cleaning" cause Dad is on another one of his kicks and mom is vacuuming the living room and we can hear it through the screen door, and 50s and 60s and 70s music is playing on our dusty stereo on dad's tool bench... And though dad's being totally irrational and chaotic as he throws shoes and other "garage junk" around, I am in a blissful state. It's one of my favorite memories.

And one of the things I missed the most is the Eagles. I don't even know if wizard100 played them, but it still reminds me of the days before all my brothers moved away and all my memories are of summertime and cleaning the garage.

So I bought the cd for my drive back to school on Saturday... and listened to it the whole time... the most wonderful drive ever...
Except this song, it is my favorite song on this cd because it speaks to my love for the west, but it's about a lot of their anger toward religion. Totally understandable, just hard to take.
Just reading the lyrics doesn't give it justice though. You got to hear his voice and the piano. If you get the chance, look up "The Last Resort."

She came from Providence,
the one in Rhode Island
Where the old world shadows hang
heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
like a refugee
Just as her father came
across the sea
She heard about a place
people were smilin'
They spoke about the red man's way,
and how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
to the Great Divide
Seeking a place to stand
or a place to hide
Down in the crowded bars,
out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all,
what it's like up there
And they called it paradise
I don't know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
while the town got high
Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
through the canyons of the coast,
to the Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
hungry for power
to light their neon way
and give them things to do
Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught 'em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
people bought 'em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun,
sinking in the sea
You can leave it all behind
and sail to Lahaina
just like the missionaries did,
so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign:
"Jesus is coming"
Brought the white man's burden down
Brought the white man's reign
Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
'Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here
We satisfy our endless needs
and justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny
and the name of God
And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing
about what it's like up there
They call it paradise
I don't know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye

I'm edumacated

Jared taught me how to blog. I think it's a good idea to keep in touch with everyone after college... Or do we just tell ourselves that to make graduation not look so sad? We'll see how well I do this...

I'm off to go eat cookies.

juli