I have had no desire to blog since well, 2009. Lots have happened since then to take up this time and lately I've been completely immersed in the world of other bloggers and knowing how little I do blog, have felt completely shamed and inspired by them. Most of the bloggers I read use blogging as part of their full-time and part-time jobs - interior design, therefore their blogs must be updated daily and filled with pictures and tutorials. I blog to share my thoughts with an unseen world and thus do not have to keep up a daily blog. I feel very narcissistic posting thoughts, rants, etc., as I know I'm the only one reading this and it's very similar to updating on facebook. Really, I just want people to be interested in my life and if they are reading this blog, I feel much satisfaction. That being said, I think subconsciously I self-imposed hiatus on posting on my blog. Rather to kill the selfish desire to be heard and stamp it out as best I could than to indulge it and allow it growth.
However the urge is back. I found a gorgeous new template/design and all of these blogs I'm reading have given me the urge to write again.
Plus I think I want some accountability as we redesign our home. Aaaaack! Accountability! Now either I have to do it or resign myself to another failed attempt at doing something.
P.s. blog world, I'm taking the GRE October 29. Hellllllllp!!!!!!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
Invictus, The Man in the Arena, and If
Michael and I watched "Invictus" Saturday afternoon as part of his birthday celebration. "Invictus," by William Ernest Henley, is a poem Nelson Mandela memorized and used as encouragement during his 27 years of imprisonment. In the movie President Mandela gives the captain of the Springboks this poem; in reality it was "The Man in the Arena" - an excerpt from a Paris speech given by President Theodore Roosevelt. Upon tracking down both poems I came across the "If-" poem by Rudyard Kipling.
These poems/excerpts, while they're not the passionate-bursting-forth-with-raging-action, are filled to the brim with passion, with calm stalwart passion, the very words that stir mens' souls to determined and long-lasting passionate action. Please read.
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
-William Ernest Henley
If-
The Man in the Arena
It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.
- Theodore Roosevelt
These poems/excerpts, while they're not the passionate-bursting-forth-with-raging-action, are filled to the brim with passion, with calm stalwart passion, the very words that stir mens' souls to determined and long-lasting passionate action. Please read.
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
-William Ernest Henley
If-
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;
If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And — which is more — you'll be a Man my son!
- Rudyard Kipling
It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.
- Theodore Roosevelt
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Speaking of Grace....
It occurred to me that when it comes to grace, I am constantly short-changing myself. I can't remember the last time I fully allowed grace to come and cover me. Not just the grace that forgives (I don't know about you, but to me grace often only comes when I feel forgiven- yes feel), but the grace that wraps around me and bundles me from allowing the foolish things I do (where forgiveness doesn't exactly need to be applied) to weigh me down.
Can grace be applied to when we are embarrassing? When I act foolishly and waves of self-consciousness flood over me, I never ever allow grace to flood overtop of the feeling of inadequacy. Nor do I give the people around me, those closest to me, the opportunity to offer grace, I'm too busy apologizing or feeling like an idiot.
I wonder how my confidence would look if I quit holding tight to the foolish feelings and instead just embraced grace. I think I'd be the very most me. With the strongest sense of self-awareness and confidence.
If I just embraced grace.
Can grace be applied to when we are embarrassing? When I act foolishly and waves of self-consciousness flood over me, I never ever allow grace to flood overtop of the feeling of inadequacy. Nor do I give the people around me, those closest to me, the opportunity to offer grace, I'm too busy apologizing or feeling like an idiot.
I wonder how my confidence would look if I quit holding tight to the foolish feelings and instead just embraced grace. I think I'd be the very most me. With the strongest sense of self-awareness and confidence.
If I just embraced grace.
Visiting 'Dassah
Lindsey and I are heading up to Bob Winn's to check out 'Dassah tonight.
It's so strange to feel this way, to have such hope in an area where in the past hope was merely praying to get through the year.
If I knew then what I know now, how to work with the horse, how to build a partnership with them, how to move forward in that partnership, that past hope would have a partnership with joy.
I know, I know, "what if's" are fool's play.
How difficult it is (and reluctant I am) to allow grace to cover me.
It's so strange to feel this way, to have such hope in an area where in the past hope was merely praying to get through the year.
If I knew then what I know now, how to work with the horse, how to build a partnership with them, how to move forward in that partnership, that past hope would have a partnership with joy.
I know, I know, "what if's" are fool's play.
How difficult it is (and reluctant I am) to allow grace to cover me.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Health-Care
Let me just get this off my chest: YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SO ANGRY!
Now I can continue with a bit more restraint.
Dear Congress,
I am furious with you right now. My fellow Americans are suffering and dying because you won't pass a bill giving more of your constituents health-care. The people you represent, those under you care and watch, are going bankrupt and losing loved-ones because you don't agree about some sub-section of this bill. The overall theme, as I understand - so correct me if I'm wrong, is that those who can't afford health-care will now be able to, whether it's through a private company or the government. My family, friends, and co-citizens of this great country will now have access to services which will prevent illness, promote health, and should the need arise, provide medicine and treatment.
We are already in trillions of dollars of debt - spent on hmm, let me see... wars which cause more wars, and..well, that's a good enough example. So we're agreed that we can spend money to kill foreigners (and our own) but to spend less (LESS) to save lives of the very citizens (and non-citizen workers of this country) who make up this country and fill the ranks of those who end up being sent off to war TO DIE is something that we have to spend over 60 years hashing out the details.
Can we agree this doesn't make much sense? I would very much like to be there when you spill out the differences in opinion over this health-care bill to the woman dying of cancer because her insurance won't cover it, to the young father unable to afford the medicine and dr.s visit for his children - let alone any treatment that will (as it surely will) come from being unable to afford preventative measures, and to my friends who don't qualify for insurance because the only job they could find was part-time and their employer doesn't offer insurance for part-time workers.
People are precious, we agree that life is precious, we agree that America is one of the greatest nations of our time. How can we look at ourselves and call us a progressed country when many of the youth of our nation, the part-time workers, the elderly, and the homeless all will go without insurance at sometime? What do we tell the women who cannot afford the doctors visits which would pick-up the unusual lump or the cervical cancer. What do we say to our men who are at a high risk for prostate cancer and cannot afford the chemotherapy, the workers in the factories where exposure to certain materials will certainly lead to lung disease - who don't work enough hours to qualify for health-insurance, what do we say to their children when they lose that mother or father, sister or brother? What do we tell them? Oh, sorry, the deficit is too large now, the bill contains that little section on federal funding, hmmm, the language in that section on illegal immigrants isn't what we want it to be.
A radical idea is termed radical for a reason. "Reform" is "reform" for a reason. This isn't the time to shy away and continue down this path, at some point we have to step away and down and road not yet broken. We are America! This is the essence of our existance! The road was not yet made in 1492, 1776, or 1963. We are the land of the brave! If we want true reform we have to take that first step. Elect new politicans if they're not doing want we as a democracy need. If you think they're stupid, fine, vote for a differant one next time. Speak out, speak up, and move on!
We each have but one life. ONE LIFE. We each exist but once. How much more precious are our lives and the lives of the ones around us? The US has survived over 200 years with courage and bravery, we have survived over 200 years not by sheltering ourselves, not by shying away from the new, not by hiding from agressors. Passing this health-care bill, passing the bill to give our citizens the pursuit of life, is the least we can do to continue the American legacy as we have for the last two hundred years. We have to trust our financial advisors, we have to trust those whom we elect, we have to trust that should this go awry, we are smart enough, brave enough, and wise enough to know that not should we just fix it, but how. We have to trust that America is what we claim her to be.
Can we deny the constitutional right of the pursuit of life to our brothers and sisters? Why can't we pass a bill that to me seems for the most part to genuinely care about my fellow citizens? To me, a generic US citizen, this bill will provide those who live in this country with me basic health-care. How can we deny our people this?
Dear Congress - I should like not to view you as a bunch of old white men sitting around smoking stogies, swigging whiskey, and patting each other on the back. That's how I see you though. I don't think you actually care about your people, my people, I don't think you want anything more than to make a name for yourself, good or bad, in the history books. I sent you to Congress to look out for me and my people, why do I feel you are looking out for none but yourself?
Sincerly,
Sarah Wakefield Kinninger
Now I can continue with a bit more restraint.
Dear Congress,
I am furious with you right now. My fellow Americans are suffering and dying because you won't pass a bill giving more of your constituents health-care. The people you represent, those under you care and watch, are going bankrupt and losing loved-ones because you don't agree about some sub-section of this bill. The overall theme, as I understand - so correct me if I'm wrong, is that those who can't afford health-care will now be able to, whether it's through a private company or the government. My family, friends, and co-citizens of this great country will now have access to services which will prevent illness, promote health, and should the need arise, provide medicine and treatment.
We are already in trillions of dollars of debt - spent on hmm, let me see... wars which cause more wars, and..well, that's a good enough example. So we're agreed that we can spend money to kill foreigners (and our own) but to spend less (LESS) to save lives of the very citizens (and non-citizen workers of this country) who make up this country and fill the ranks of those who end up being sent off to war TO DIE is something that we have to spend over 60 years hashing out the details.
Can we agree this doesn't make much sense? I would very much like to be there when you spill out the differences in opinion over this health-care bill to the woman dying of cancer because her insurance won't cover it, to the young father unable to afford the medicine and dr.s visit for his children - let alone any treatment that will (as it surely will) come from being unable to afford preventative measures, and to my friends who don't qualify for insurance because the only job they could find was part-time and their employer doesn't offer insurance for part-time workers.
People are precious, we agree that life is precious, we agree that America is one of the greatest nations of our time. How can we look at ourselves and call us a progressed country when many of the youth of our nation, the part-time workers, the elderly, and the homeless all will go without insurance at sometime? What do we tell the women who cannot afford the doctors visits which would pick-up the unusual lump or the cervical cancer. What do we say to our men who are at a high risk for prostate cancer and cannot afford the chemotherapy, the workers in the factories where exposure to certain materials will certainly lead to lung disease - who don't work enough hours to qualify for health-insurance, what do we say to their children when they lose that mother or father, sister or brother? What do we tell them? Oh, sorry, the deficit is too large now, the bill contains that little section on federal funding, hmmm, the language in that section on illegal immigrants isn't what we want it to be.
A radical idea is termed radical for a reason. "Reform" is "reform" for a reason. This isn't the time to shy away and continue down this path, at some point we have to step away and down and road not yet broken. We are America! This is the essence of our existance! The road was not yet made in 1492, 1776, or 1963. We are the land of the brave! If we want true reform we have to take that first step. Elect new politicans if they're not doing want we as a democracy need. If you think they're stupid, fine, vote for a differant one next time. Speak out, speak up, and move on!
We each have but one life. ONE LIFE. We each exist but once. How much more precious are our lives and the lives of the ones around us? The US has survived over 200 years with courage and bravery, we have survived over 200 years not by sheltering ourselves, not by shying away from the new, not by hiding from agressors. Passing this health-care bill, passing the bill to give our citizens the pursuit of life, is the least we can do to continue the American legacy as we have for the last two hundred years. We have to trust our financial advisors, we have to trust those whom we elect, we have to trust that should this go awry, we are smart enough, brave enough, and wise enough to know that not should we just fix it, but how. We have to trust that America is what we claim her to be.
Can we deny the constitutional right of the pursuit of life to our brothers and sisters? Why can't we pass a bill that to me seems for the most part to genuinely care about my fellow citizens? To me, a generic US citizen, this bill will provide those who live in this country with me basic health-care. How can we deny our people this?
Dear Congress - I should like not to view you as a bunch of old white men sitting around smoking stogies, swigging whiskey, and patting each other on the back. That's how I see you though. I don't think you actually care about your people, my people, I don't think you want anything more than to make a name for yourself, good or bad, in the history books. I sent you to Congress to look out for me and my people, why do I feel you are looking out for none but yourself?
Sincerly,
Sarah Wakefield Kinninger
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Work
I know I want to:
* All I remember are crabby horses and CHILDREN WHO WON'T LISTEN because they don't care because their parents brought them and barking dogs.
- Work for people, the public, on a daily basis. Not just my co-workers.
- Find solutions
- Provide a service
- Be a help
- Be active at work
- NOT be in front of a computer 40/40
- Work in a casual atmosphere - it's either a casual uniform or casual dress
- Did I mention interact with people?
- Talk about healthy relationships
- Be involved with sports, health, wellness, and/or providing information for better living (also known as wellness)
- I also do enjoy the equestrian sports but I don't know how hardcore I am. I've been out of it awhile.*
- How can I help people better their lives (via counseling, health services, health information, sport-ish camps, health/phys ed classes) AND not spend the next 3 years getting another undergrad degree?
- I don't think I'm all that inclined for Physical or Occupational therapy - see above.
- I don't find myself leaning to working with the special needs populations
* All I remember are crabby horses and CHILDREN WHO WON'T LISTEN because they don't care because their parents brought them and barking dogs.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Introspection Retrospectively
I found this amongst my drafts from last year. It seemed well enough to post.
I don't even know where to begin.
I can't sleep at night. I just lay there, sometimes still talking (with no distractions my mind settles down and I just can't stop the thoughts from verbalizing themselves), mostly trying to stem the flood of thinking - my mind whirs like a fan on high and seems to take forever to slow down after I turn it off. It's strange how thoughts that come in the night are akin to epiphanies but the next morning the idea that shook me from head to toe is now casually recalled and then mentally tossed into the in-box for an indefinite period.
On the occasion that I do stir from near slumber to track down a pen and paper and allow my thoughts some validity, I find that the next morning those thoughts aren't as ridiculous as when I merely think about them. Sometimes I can hold onto that thought and the next night they will bear more fruit. Other times merely writing them down releases them from my mind and allows for more room for other pearls.
Many times I find myself on a soapbox late at night, mentally ranting on and on about the subject of dating, more specifically, the subject of girls yearning for the manifestation of their value and "finding" it in guys. Never would have I called it a "calling" but this morning, after giving the subject nearly an hour of my life the night before, it struck me that perhaps that's what it is, a calling. A desire to reroute my peers and the adolescent youth from digging through the garbage and slums for their pricelessness and to travel a healthier road.*
Horses have been apart of my entire life. Growing up I lived and breathed horses; to this day no smell compares to a deep breath of horse. I still have memories of watching my mother's horse, Beau, munch on grass beside our barn. I loved watching the process as they ate; the sound of the chomping, the grass there one second and gone the next. A horse grazes, meaning it moves around as it eats. The peculiar part about grazing is that horses eat in no apparent pattern. They don't start at one end of a field and methodically make their way to the other end. They weave around, moving as they please, sensing and smelling where the next bit of lush legume will be.
Horses do not graze in a standard pattern for several reasons, certain plants are toxic and horses can detect that, other times they simply want to be nearer to a herdmate, but most of all, horses know where to find the tastiest and, by default, most healthy grass. When their main diet is lacking in a mineral or nutrient, a horse is then forced to find that mineral or nutrient elsewhere. It will nudge and nose around, smelling it out and, believe it or not, will commence to eat or lick whatever it is that contains that mineral or nutrient. We had a mare once who, after we switched grain suppliers, began chewing up the wood in her stall. Our vet recommended a grain supplement and the chewing stopped. One might think, "Wood?" What the heck?! Well, when an animal can't find their default source of food, they will desperately seek for anything else. They will even eat toxic plants.
People do that with food too. When you're not eating healthily, your body will crave whatever nutrients and minerals it isn't getting. When your body becomes deprived it will focus on that deprivation and next thing you know, you've knocked back a whole bag of potato chips, a large soft drink, and you're working on a box of cookies. When in imbalance, the body seeks to compensate. If you begin eating healthily, providing to your body all the nutrients it needs in ways it can absorb those nutrients, you'll find that junk food is not in the least appealing. You won't chew on wood.
It's the same with behavior. When a person (or animal in some cases) is not provided with love, nurturing, and guidance (both in positive enforcement and constructive criticism (which we know as discipline)), when a person is not filled with the knowledge and feeling that who they are is important and loved (and validated and cared for), they will seek to compensate, they will fill their lives with whatever will give that to them. My old (way back in the day) volleyball coach used to say something along the lines of this (and though I don't care for the fact that he said it to us, it still holds a bit of relevance), "If I'm not coaching ( more like screaming at) you during the game, then I've given up on you." I'm sure it was meant as encouragement when he kept shouting at us, but I took it as the person whom he wasn't shouting at. In my mind I obviously wasn't cared about or had any worth as a team member; he wasn't paying attention anymore. I bring this up because the lack of discipline or instruction in a persons life is exactly the same thing as saying "I don't care about you," or, "I don't care about you enough to show you the best ways to grow as the person you are." Which then leads to, "I don't love you as you."
*I'm not quite ready to describe "healthier" as a life with Christ, even though it is. It's not my mode to slap Christ on a problem and say, "Well, there you go! That'll do it!" I feel too many use Christ as duct tape (even though in many cases, it's the only way to start the process of healing and life) and not enough show proof of that abundant life, of the results that come with core healing.
I don't even know where to begin.
I can't sleep at night. I just lay there, sometimes still talking (with no distractions my mind settles down and I just can't stop the thoughts from verbalizing themselves), mostly trying to stem the flood of thinking - my mind whirs like a fan on high and seems to take forever to slow down after I turn it off. It's strange how thoughts that come in the night are akin to epiphanies but the next morning the idea that shook me from head to toe is now casually recalled and then mentally tossed into the in-box for an indefinite period.
On the occasion that I do stir from near slumber to track down a pen and paper and allow my thoughts some validity, I find that the next morning those thoughts aren't as ridiculous as when I merely think about them. Sometimes I can hold onto that thought and the next night they will bear more fruit. Other times merely writing them down releases them from my mind and allows for more room for other pearls.
Many times I find myself on a soapbox late at night, mentally ranting on and on about the subject of dating, more specifically, the subject of girls yearning for the manifestation of their value and "finding" it in guys. Never would have I called it a "calling" but this morning, after giving the subject nearly an hour of my life the night before, it struck me that perhaps that's what it is, a calling. A desire to reroute my peers and the adolescent youth from digging through the garbage and slums for their pricelessness and to travel a healthier road.*
Horses have been apart of my entire life. Growing up I lived and breathed horses; to this day no smell compares to a deep breath of horse. I still have memories of watching my mother's horse, Beau, munch on grass beside our barn. I loved watching the process as they ate; the sound of the chomping, the grass there one second and gone the next. A horse grazes, meaning it moves around as it eats. The peculiar part about grazing is that horses eat in no apparent pattern. They don't start at one end of a field and methodically make their way to the other end. They weave around, moving as they please, sensing and smelling where the next bit of lush legume will be.
Horses do not graze in a standard pattern for several reasons, certain plants are toxic and horses can detect that, other times they simply want to be nearer to a herdmate, but most of all, horses know where to find the tastiest and, by default, most healthy grass. When their main diet is lacking in a mineral or nutrient, a horse is then forced to find that mineral or nutrient elsewhere. It will nudge and nose around, smelling it out and, believe it or not, will commence to eat or lick whatever it is that contains that mineral or nutrient. We had a mare once who, after we switched grain suppliers, began chewing up the wood in her stall. Our vet recommended a grain supplement and the chewing stopped. One might think, "Wood?" What the heck?! Well, when an animal can't find their default source of food, they will desperately seek for anything else. They will even eat toxic plants.
People do that with food too. When you're not eating healthily, your body will crave whatever nutrients and minerals it isn't getting. When your body becomes deprived it will focus on that deprivation and next thing you know, you've knocked back a whole bag of potato chips, a large soft drink, and you're working on a box of cookies. When in imbalance, the body seeks to compensate. If you begin eating healthily, providing to your body all the nutrients it needs in ways it can absorb those nutrients, you'll find that junk food is not in the least appealing. You won't chew on wood.
It's the same with behavior. When a person (or animal in some cases) is not provided with love, nurturing, and guidance (both in positive enforcement and constructive criticism (which we know as discipline)), when a person is not filled with the knowledge and feeling that who they are is important and loved (and validated and cared for), they will seek to compensate, they will fill their lives with whatever will give that to them. My old (way back in the day) volleyball coach used to say something along the lines of this (and though I don't care for the fact that he said it to us, it still holds a bit of relevance), "If I'm not coaching ( more like screaming at) you during the game, then I've given up on you." I'm sure it was meant as encouragement when he kept shouting at us, but I took it as the person whom he wasn't shouting at. In my mind I obviously wasn't cared about or had any worth as a team member; he wasn't paying attention anymore. I bring this up because the lack of discipline or instruction in a persons life is exactly the same thing as saying "I don't care about you," or, "I don't care about you enough to show you the best ways to grow as the person you are." Which then leads to, "I don't love you as you."
*I'm not quite ready to describe "healthier" as a life with Christ, even though it is. It's not my mode to slap Christ on a problem and say, "Well, there you go! That'll do it!" I feel too many use Christ as duct tape (even though in many cases, it's the only way to start the process of healing and life) and not enough show proof of that abundant life, of the results that come with core healing.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
JERICHOOoooooo!
Whilst storming around my office building today in a fiery rage, on the third lap to be precise, it came to me that with 4 more rounds and one good holler, I might find myself standing amid rubble.
Hallelujah hellfire and brimstone!
Hallelujah hellfire and brimstone!
Friday, March 13, 2009
Prayer Not in School
Please read Antique Mommy's take on prayer not in school.
In case you were wondering, I heartily agree with her.
In case you were wondering, I heartily agree with her.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
L'amica del'Inverno
Let's be friends,
Winter and I.
Thrill me with snowflakes
and I'll breathe in your beauty
Blanket the hillsides with unstained glory
Turn the trees into temples.
Soothe our souls with pastoral purity
Transform the skies into joy.
Let's be friends,
Winter and I.
Remind me of stillness.
Comfort me with quiet.
Winter and I.
Thrill me with snowflakes
and I'll breathe in your beauty
Blanket the hillsides with unstained glory
Turn the trees into temples.
Soothe our souls with pastoral purity
Transform the skies into joy.
Let's be friends,
Winter and I.
Remind me of stillness.
Comfort me with quiet.
Friday, October 17, 2008
nobodies business.
I feel rough. Rough around the edges, rough around the soul.
Like a rough gravelly drive, looking over at her nemesis Enchantment, a slow moving creek with grassy banks.
I feel jagged and broken; nothing is fluid, nothing is smooth.
I want to be easy to take, like the weathered maple syrup cabin sitting on the side of the hill, framed by the woods.
Easy like a forest in autumnal flame.
Easy like water on the lake.
I should be that hillside, covered in nature. Permanent and home.
Winter has a hold on me; I’m dying for spring. A flower in frost.
Thank God the joke's on me.
Like a rough gravelly drive, looking over at her nemesis Enchantment, a slow moving creek with grassy banks.
I feel jagged and broken; nothing is fluid, nothing is smooth.
I want to be easy to take, like the weathered maple syrup cabin sitting on the side of the hill, framed by the woods.
Easy like a forest in autumnal flame.
Easy like water on the lake.
I should be that hillside, covered in nature. Permanent and home.
Winter has a hold on me; I’m dying for spring. A flower in frost.
Thank God the joke's on me.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Secret Shoppers for Churches
You have got to be joking. I know many churches, at least the one's that make it in the news, have turned towards gimmicks to draw in larger audiences. I understand that nowadays, Christ is more of a perk in church, rather than the reason for it. I realize that following Christ is too much of a maturity process for people; it requires more adjustment, well hell, following Christ is fully an adjustment of the spirit/soul. One cannot buy their new life with Christ and have it delivered to their door; they can't return it when it doesn't fit.
This life with Christ will never fit at first and it will never adjust to fit one's self; each person must adjust to fit what Christ has so freely given. It's the marriage everyone dreams of and when they wake up 6 months into it, after pushing through the growing pains and the deep love and then times that try one's soul, they realize that 1) unimaginable growth has occurred (they're not the same shallow person they were 6 months ago, and 2) the more they die to their own selfish ways and attitudes, the more beautiful this relationship/partnership becomes!
I know 6 months is nothing to those who have decades under their relational belt, but these 6 months are priceless to me; I never knew how much it would mean to me to have gone through this process of marriage, I never realized how precious and life-saving the marital life would be. Now granted, I'm married to the most amazing man and that gift in and of itself leaves me speechless and forever grateful.
At any rate, this life with Christ can't be bought (does anybody remember that the price for it has already been paid?). This life with Christ cannot be replaced with small talk, specialty coffees, and a worship band! DOES ANYBODY REMEMBER THE TRUE MEANING OF THE CHURCH?! If you don't want Christ, stay of out of my church. that's right, little "c" church. The church.
This is why I hate what "Christianity" has become. This is why I don't like going to church anymore. This is why I don't want to be associated with Christians. How can you dare mock the name of Christ by calling yourself a "Christian"! Am I being hoity-toity about this? Yes. Am I saying I'm better than you because I think my bare bones relationship with Christ is better than your designer style relationship? Yes. (I realize this is an area where great work is needed, but frankly, all you "Christians" have pissed me off beyond the point of caring, at this moment at least). I'm saying that a true relationship with Christ isn't found in a building, it's not found with a rock-style worship band, it's not found in how appealing the sermon is; it's not found with how much you pour yourself into the small group, women's group, men's group, Saturday morning group. That relationship isn't found by attending the teen group, the new moms group, the singles group, the pre-marriage counseling group, the divorced support group, or any other support group. Disclaimer: the relationship can be encouraged and supported by attending the above groups; I'm not at all saying they're a bad idea, great help and a show of love and support and community is found with these groups.
I don't judge the church on the cobwebs, the water stains, the "random bucket" (what???) under the sink, or the worship band. I love going to churches that either have only one person signing acoustically or have no worship at all (I get so bothered with being in tune that anything that might speak to me from whatever song it is that I'm singing will blow right over my head. I'll sing on my my own time, thank you.). I'm not going to judge the church based on the cracks in the pavement or any other asthetically disturbing or pleasing aspect of the church. I want to know if the church is speaking the truth, both by pastor and parishoners. I want to know if I'm going to hear about Christ or if I'm going to be fed something to appease my guilty soul.
The article linked below is about a new church phenomenon: Secret Shoppers. Apparently these guys or girls attend church services to give their opinion as a "newcomer." How can they tell what a newcomer wants? Do you really want people in your church who are turned off by the greeters or the peeling paint? Don't you want people to come because your church is a place of Christ's truth and true love?
I've got more to spout off on but I've worked myself up into quite a mood; I'll need to settle.
The Mystery Worshipper
This life with Christ will never fit at first and it will never adjust to fit one's self; each person must adjust to fit what Christ has so freely given. It's the marriage everyone dreams of and when they wake up 6 months into it, after pushing through the growing pains and the deep love and then times that try one's soul, they realize that 1) unimaginable growth has occurred (they're not the same shallow person they were 6 months ago, and 2) the more they die to their own selfish ways and attitudes, the more beautiful this relationship/partnership becomes!
I know 6 months is nothing to those who have decades under their relational belt, but these 6 months are priceless to me; I never knew how much it would mean to me to have gone through this process of marriage, I never realized how precious and life-saving the marital life would be. Now granted, I'm married to the most amazing man and that gift in and of itself leaves me speechless and forever grateful.
At any rate, this life with Christ can't be bought (does anybody remember that the price for it has already been paid?). This life with Christ cannot be replaced with small talk, specialty coffees, and a worship band! DOES ANYBODY REMEMBER THE TRUE MEANING OF THE CHURCH?! If you don't want Christ, stay of out of my church. that's right, little "c" church. The church.
This is why I hate what "Christianity" has become. This is why I don't like going to church anymore. This is why I don't want to be associated with Christians. How can you dare mock the name of Christ by calling yourself a "Christian"! Am I being hoity-toity about this? Yes. Am I saying I'm better than you because I think my bare bones relationship with Christ is better than your designer style relationship? Yes. (I realize this is an area where great work is needed, but frankly, all you "Christians" have pissed me off beyond the point of caring, at this moment at least). I'm saying that a true relationship with Christ isn't found in a building, it's not found with a rock-style worship band, it's not found in how appealing the sermon is; it's not found with how much you pour yourself into the small group, women's group, men's group, Saturday morning group. That relationship isn't found by attending the teen group, the new moms group, the singles group, the pre-marriage counseling group, the divorced support group, or any other support group. Disclaimer: the relationship can be encouraged and supported by attending the above groups; I'm not at all saying they're a bad idea, great help and a show of love and support and community is found with these groups.
I don't judge the church on the cobwebs, the water stains, the "random bucket" (what???) under the sink, or the worship band. I love going to churches that either have only one person signing acoustically or have no worship at all (I get so bothered with being in tune that anything that might speak to me from whatever song it is that I'm singing will blow right over my head. I'll sing on my my own time, thank you.). I'm not going to judge the church based on the cracks in the pavement or any other asthetically disturbing or pleasing aspect of the church. I want to know if the church is speaking the truth, both by pastor and parishoners. I want to know if I'm going to hear about Christ or if I'm going to be fed something to appease my guilty soul.
The article linked below is about a new church phenomenon: Secret Shoppers. Apparently these guys or girls attend church services to give their opinion as a "newcomer." How can they tell what a newcomer wants? Do you really want people in your church who are turned off by the greeters or the peeling paint? Don't you want people to come because your church is a place of Christ's truth and true love?
I've got more to spout off on but I've worked myself up into quite a mood; I'll need to settle.
The Mystery Worshipper
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Antique Mommy
Antique Mommy's Bailout Plan
This lady has the bailout plan done right. See the follow-up post on her site for more great thoughts.
This lady has the bailout plan done right. See the follow-up post on her site for more great thoughts.
a little bit small, a little bit strong
I do not place my hope on the shoulders of all who gone before me. My hope does not come from the stories of yore, the hopes of ancestors, the ideals of those who have gone before me. But my hope is backed by the truth of the past and the complimented by the hopes of my fathers.
My hope is present. My hope is not dated and antiqued; filled full by others’ dreams. My hope is fraught with doubt and bombarded by the “truth of today.” This hope, the fuel that spurs my heart, should not be explained away by science. It is not scientific and therefore, my hope is not an equation; it is not an organ in me but still very much united with me, a running current that connects me to others.
Strip me down and find the source of this hope; how can I walk each day and breathe each day without hope? I would be nothing less than a cadaver.
My hope stems from what I know; it is not based on the pseudo-faith of others who merely use hope for an identity but have no idea of the life that hope gives.
Why explain my hope away? What is it to you if I believe because I do? Why would you try to destroy this?
Who destroyed you?
My hope is present. My hope is not dated and antiqued; filled full by others’ dreams. My hope is fraught with doubt and bombarded by the “truth of today.” This hope, the fuel that spurs my heart, should not be explained away by science. It is not scientific and therefore, my hope is not an equation; it is not an organ in me but still very much united with me, a running current that connects me to others.
Strip me down and find the source of this hope; how can I walk each day and breathe each day without hope? I would be nothing less than a cadaver.
My hope stems from what I know; it is not based on the pseudo-faith of others who merely use hope for an identity but have no idea of the life that hope gives.
Why explain my hope away? What is it to you if I believe because I do? Why would you try to destroy this?
Who destroyed you?
Hello Ohio
Hello Ohio
The back roads
I know Ohio
Like the back of my hand
Alone Ohio
Where the river bends
And it’s strange to see your story end
In my life I've seen a thousand dreams
Through the threshers all torn to pieces
And the land lay bare
Someone turned a profit there
And a good son lost his life in a strip pit
When the sun went down we would all leave town
And light our fires in Egypt Bottom
And the reservoir was just as good for Joni
‘Cause we knew we would
Dream outloud in the night air
Holly said, Don’t go inside the children’s home
Mary said, Don’t leave your man alone
Valerie was singin’ to the radio
Ohio
It was summertime in ‘83
We were burnin’ out at the rubber tree
Wonderin’ what in the world
Would make all this worthwhile
And if I knew then I was older then
Would I see regret to the last mile
Hello Ohio
The back roads
I know Ohio
Like the back of my hand
Alone Ohio
Where the river bends
And it’s strange to see your story end
How I hate to see your story end
It’s so sad to see your story end
Words and Music, Karen Bergquist of Over The Rhine
Do it, go check them out.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Viggo
"It's about trying to make the right choices, but then you go along a little, then a little more, and then you try to justify what you've gone along with," (Viggo) Mortensen said. "Just like what happens in any country. Even now, I'm sure over the past eight years there are people that kind of go, `I voted for that guy twice,' or as a legislator, `I can't believe I allowed that law to compromise on another piece of legislation.' It all adds up to changes where you say, `If I had known eight years ago what all these little choices would have added up to, then I wouldn't have made so many of them."'
See the entire article here.
See the entire article here.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
So I ran a 10K.......
My Memories/Thoughts/Observations during the Nike+ 10K Human Race in New York City
12.) Conformity. Never have I seen so many red shirts (Two thoughts: sounds a bit communist, aye? and well, for that matter, so many shirts of the same color) in one place, at one time. According to the powers that be (Nike), there were around 10,000 runners, nearly all wearing red. We probably looked like a throng of giant red-orange centipedes, with spots. (Some runners just came to run in the event, not the race, and subsequently were not attired like the rest– apparently if you had the Nike+ getup you could run with the crowd and while your time wouldn’t count for the race, it would count with all the other Nike+ runners.
11.) Why the hell were we running on one of the poorest First World courses ever thought up? It’s NYC for crying out loud, not the back alleys of some high-range dying municipality, and it’s Nike, not some poor low-end sneaker company just starting out. Nike, you have plenty to spend; if you’re going to tout something like the “World’s Largest One Day Running Event,” at least get the logistics in order so consumers/runners don’t associate “fool” with your brand.
10.) Darnit how I hate people running in brand-new running shoes on race day. If you’re running, then you worked hard (or at least I would hope you had) to get up the stamina to run for 6.2 miles, let it show people! At least don’t give off the appearance that the idea to run in this race just popped into your little noggin at the last minute and off you bustled to the closest Finish Line to pick up the newest and brightest pair of the latest Nikes on the shelf. *Sarah bursts into flames in moment of last-straw fury* Darnit I worked hard, ran in pain and rain, and heat and suffered the frustration of loved ones who would love to have a life that wasn’t determined by “So, how many miles today?” I can’t stand it to have someone breeze past me in blindingly new sneaks; makes me feel like you can do anything on a whim and I have to bust my butt and I still can’t keep up! Blast it I’m smokin’ again.
9.) So many people! I got passed lots of times but I still managed to stay in the middle of the pack. This was just a long run with benefits for me so I didn’t really care at all about my time (which is good, as my time was apparently slower than a walkers’), but man alive did I get passed! And each time I thought I was near the rear of this chaos, I turned around and saw hundreds of runners behind me, eating my dust.
9.A) Okay, okay, the “eating my dust” bit was probably too much, but still, I’m not going to sugar it any, it was nice to look back and see tons of runners behind me. I know they probably didn’t get to start for 10 minutes after my group began… I know they’re probably the walkers who just decided to jog for a bit. I KNOW! Just being real though; if you’ve ever run a race in which you weren’t sure at all how you would compare to the other runners, I know you’ve thought the same thing. Go ahead and pray for my wretched soul.
8.) Holy Crap we’re stuck on a bridge. (See #9) Turns out someone didn’t think through mathematics of 10,000 people running over a maximum-4-person-wide bridge right before the Laps 2 and finish split. (Granted not all 10,000 were trying to cross at the same time, only say, 300 or so.) In order to instill a semblance of order, staff members were screaming at the people who were crossing, “Lap 1 TO THE LEFT, LAP 2 TO THE RIGHT.” Which makes sense except for one little tiny detail: Anyone crossing the bridge was ending their Lap 1 or headed to the finish line, which was a right past the bridge. So there were people finishing Lap 1 who were told the aforementioned and subsequently headed to the right, straight into the stadium for the finish and an amazing race time. Utter chaos. Oh, and need I mention the knee-high wooden benches along the left of the bridge? No warning whatsoever except for the sudden sideways movement of the person in front of you. Good times.
7.) Oh wow is Michael hot. In all absolute seriousness, those were my thoughts each time I ran by him. The first time I found him he was just after the bridge and since we were all past the “TO THE LEFT”, I was able to swing into the empty space on the right just past the split and wave hello and somehow manage to start running after my knees turned to jell-o and I couldn’t find my breath. (While one might think I was breathless from the race I was running it is to be recalled that this was just after the bridge where we had taken a 10min break to shuffle across, plenty of time to ease the heart-rate back down). The second time I was jarred from my focus by the lithe young man with smoldering blue eyes and a strong jaw occurred after the split and as I was heading into the finish. Handsome was waiting for me to come around and managed to get in a picture or two and some encouraging words. Am I a lucky woman or what? I have my very own McStudly who not only thinks I’m hot while running a race, but roots me on to the finish; talk about a prize!
6.) Woo Running in New York! Look at that sexy skyline, ain’t she a beeeaut! Glory be I’m running in NYC! I really wanted to be like the runners from other countries who had pinned their national flag to the back of the shirt, which in my case would be the Ohio pennant. Not as cool but definitely a statement to make. I did hold back the urge to ask people around me where they were from just so I could nod and then proudly state “oh, cool, I’m from Ohio and inwardly giggle gleefully since it looks like I traveled so far just to run in this race. Which, upon reflection, makes it seem borderline pathetic…
5.) If one more staff members screams “TO THE LEFT” I am going to whack-chop them in the knee. Which means I will obligingly duck my head and pull an Italian*.
4.) Hey, I’ve just passed 5 miles and that girl with the pink shorts who freaking keeps slowing down to a walk just to pick.up.the.run.right.before.I.catch.up. Eat my dust, Red Shorts Girl.
3.) If the expected 1,000,000 runners actually signed up for the race and paid the entrance fee, $5 of which goes to your choice of one of three charities, we just raised $5,000,000 for charity. Plus, runners could raise money for the charities by signing up people to pledge money for each mile ran in training and in the race.
2.) Two words: Finish Line! I had paced myself so well that I upped the ante the last two miles and finished really strong. There were two girls ahead who I locked onto as the runners to beat and I caught them and finished ahead!
1.) Wow. I just ran a 10K with 10,000 other people in the Big Apple.
Now, where is my studly hubby? Give me some sugar, Baby!
*Going all Italian on someone means to get thisclose to them while in a line and then continue on with any conversation or in-line activity. Ask Michael about the Empire State Building!
12.) Conformity. Never have I seen so many red shirts (Two thoughts: sounds a bit communist, aye? and well, for that matter, so many shirts of the same color) in one place, at one time. According to the powers that be (Nike), there were around 10,000 runners, nearly all wearing red. We probably looked like a throng of giant red-orange centipedes, with spots. (Some runners just came to run in the event, not the race, and subsequently were not attired like the rest– apparently if you had the Nike+ getup you could run with the crowd and while your time wouldn’t count for the race, it would count with all the other Nike+ runners.
11.) Why the hell were we running on one of the poorest First World courses ever thought up? It’s NYC for crying out loud, not the back alleys of some high-range dying municipality, and it’s Nike, not some poor low-end sneaker company just starting out. Nike, you have plenty to spend; if you’re going to tout something like the “World’s Largest One Day Running Event,” at least get the logistics in order so consumers/runners don’t associate “fool” with your brand.
10.) Darnit how I hate people running in brand-new running shoes on race day. If you’re running, then you worked hard (or at least I would hope you had) to get up the stamina to run for 6.2 miles, let it show people! At least don’t give off the appearance that the idea to run in this race just popped into your little noggin at the last minute and off you bustled to the closest Finish Line to pick up the newest and brightest pair of the latest Nikes on the shelf. *Sarah bursts into flames in moment of last-straw fury* Darnit I worked hard, ran in pain and rain, and heat and suffered the frustration of loved ones who would love to have a life that wasn’t determined by “So, how many miles today?” I can’t stand it to have someone breeze past me in blindingly new sneaks; makes me feel like you can do anything on a whim and I have to bust my butt and I still can’t keep up! Blast it I’m smokin’ again.
9.) So many people! I got passed lots of times but I still managed to stay in the middle of the pack. This was just a long run with benefits for me so I didn’t really care at all about my time (which is good, as my time was apparently slower than a walkers’), but man alive did I get passed! And each time I thought I was near the rear of this chaos, I turned around and saw hundreds of runners behind me, eating my dust.
9.A) Okay, okay, the “eating my dust” bit was probably too much, but still, I’m not going to sugar it any, it was nice to look back and see tons of runners behind me. I know they probably didn’t get to start for 10 minutes after my group began… I know they’re probably the walkers who just decided to jog for a bit. I KNOW! Just being real though; if you’ve ever run a race in which you weren’t sure at all how you would compare to the other runners, I know you’ve thought the same thing. Go ahead and pray for my wretched soul.
8.) Holy Crap we’re stuck on a bridge. (See #9) Turns out someone didn’t think through mathematics of 10,000 people running over a maximum-4-person-wide bridge right before the Laps 2 and finish split. (Granted not all 10,000 were trying to cross at the same time, only say, 300 or so.) In order to instill a semblance of order, staff members were screaming at the people who were crossing, “Lap 1 TO THE LEFT, LAP 2 TO THE RIGHT.” Which makes sense except for one little tiny detail: Anyone crossing the bridge was ending their Lap 1 or headed to the finish line, which was a right past the bridge. So there were people finishing Lap 1 who were told the aforementioned and subsequently headed to the right, straight into the stadium for the finish and an amazing race time. Utter chaos. Oh, and need I mention the knee-high wooden benches along the left of the bridge? No warning whatsoever except for the sudden sideways movement of the person in front of you. Good times.
7.) Oh wow is Michael hot. In all absolute seriousness, those were my thoughts each time I ran by him. The first time I found him he was just after the bridge and since we were all past the “TO THE LEFT”, I was able to swing into the empty space on the right just past the split and wave hello and somehow manage to start running after my knees turned to jell-o and I couldn’t find my breath. (While one might think I was breathless from the race I was running it is to be recalled that this was just after the bridge where we had taken a 10min break to shuffle across, plenty of time to ease the heart-rate back down). The second time I was jarred from my focus by the lithe young man with smoldering blue eyes and a strong jaw occurred after the split and as I was heading into the finish. Handsome was waiting for me to come around and managed to get in a picture or two and some encouraging words. Am I a lucky woman or what? I have my very own McStudly who not only thinks I’m hot while running a race, but roots me on to the finish; talk about a prize!
6.) Woo Running in New York! Look at that sexy skyline, ain’t she a beeeaut! Glory be I’m running in NYC! I really wanted to be like the runners from other countries who had pinned their national flag to the back of the shirt, which in my case would be the Ohio pennant. Not as cool but definitely a statement to make. I did hold back the urge to ask people around me where they were from just so I could nod and then proudly state “oh, cool, I’m from Ohio and inwardly giggle gleefully since it looks like I traveled so far just to run in this race. Which, upon reflection, makes it seem borderline pathetic…
5.) If one more staff members screams “TO THE LEFT” I am going to whack-chop them in the knee. Which means I will obligingly duck my head and pull an Italian*.
4.) Hey, I’ve just passed 5 miles and that girl with the pink shorts who freaking keeps slowing down to a walk just to pick.up.the.run.right.before.I.catch.up. Eat my dust, Red Shorts Girl.
3.) If the expected 1,000,000 runners actually signed up for the race and paid the entrance fee, $5 of which goes to your choice of one of three charities, we just raised $5,000,000 for charity. Plus, runners could raise money for the charities by signing up people to pledge money for each mile ran in training and in the race.
2.) Two words: Finish Line! I had paced myself so well that I upped the ante the last two miles and finished really strong. There were two girls ahead who I locked onto as the runners to beat and I caught them and finished ahead!
1.) Wow. I just ran a 10K with 10,000 other people in the Big Apple.
Now, where is my studly hubby? Give me some sugar, Baby!
*Going all Italian on someone means to get thisclose to them while in a line and then continue on with any conversation or in-line activity. Ask Michael about the Empire State Building!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S
Mega-preacher's wife sued over loss of faith
- Victoria Osteen accused of assaulting Continental Airlines flight attendant
- Osteen is wife of Joel Osteen, whose sermons are televised nationally
- Flight attendant Sharon Brown alleges Osteen threw her against door
- Brown suing for damages equaling 10 percent of Victoria Osteen's net worth
HOUSTON, Texas (AP) -- She's the wife of a renowned evangelical pastor and one of the leaders of a Houston megachurch, but Victoria Osteen is being accused of behavior that wasn't very Christian.
Victoria Osteen leaves the courtroom with her husband, Joel Osteen, on Wednesday in Houston, Texas.
Opening arguments were set for Thursday in a lawsuit that accuses Victoria Osteen of assaulting Continental Airlines flight attendant Sharon Brown before the start of a 2005 flight from Houston to Vail, Colorado.
The lawyer for Victoria Osteen called the lawsuit silly and denied that her client assaulted Brown. Brown's attorney, Reginald McKamie, said he hopes the trial will show "that celebrity status doesn't take precedence."
Victoria Osteen is co-pastor at Lakewood Church, where her husband, Joel Osteen, preaches and where about 42,000 people flock each week. Joel Osteen's weekly television address is broadcast nationally and internationally.
Brown alleges Victoria Osteen threw her against a bathroom door and elbowed her in the left breast during an outburst over a stain on her first-class seat. The Federal Aviation Administration fined Victoria Osteen $3,000 for interfering with a crew member. 
Watch: A closer look at the case »
Victoria Osteen "clearly was angry on this flight," McKamie said.
Brown wants an apology and punitive damages amounting to 10 percent of Victoria Osteen's net worth as part of her suit.
A 12-person jury was seated Wednesday after lawyers spent several hours questioning a pool of 130 people. The questioning touched on religious beliefs, celebrity and the public's perception of preachers and televangelists.
Many of those in the jury pool said they had been to Lakewood Church and acknowledged holding the Osteens in high regard and being star-struck by them.
But other potential jurors said they didn't like preachers or televangelists and that ministers can lie.
Joel Osteen was at his wife's side Wednesday in court. McKamie said he expected to call the couple as witnesses.
According to an FAA report, Victoria Osteen pushed and elbowed Brown in an attempt to get to the plane's cockpit after two other attendants had not cleaned a liquid on her armrest.
Brown's suit says the flight attendants asked to have Victoria Osteen removed from the plane. Victoria Osteen's lawyer, Rusty Hardin, says his client and her family left voluntarily. The incident delayed the flight about 2½ hours.
Hardin asked that the FAA report's findings not be allowed in the trial, saying the agency's investigation was incomplete. State District Judge Patricia Hancock said she would make a decision later.
Brown had previously said she was attacked in another incident by an airport employee, according to a deposition she gave in the case.
According to court documents, Brown says that she suffers from anxiety and hemorrhoids because of the incident involving Victoria Osteen and said her faith was affected. She is also suing Victoria Osteen for medical expenses for counseling.
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