Have you ever felt like a speck? I mean really insignificant. I am taking astronomy this fall and let me tell you - it is amazing what God has created. Studying how completely tiny and brief I am has revealed a lot to me about God. And if anything, it has shown me how much He loves me. So how did I get from insignificant to loved? Well, when you take into account that insane magnitude of the universe, the ridiculous odds of life even existing and how this is so fully and obviously God actively creating us, it amazes me that the God of the universe goes to such lengths to pursue my heart, bring me joy, and heal my wounds. He is so cosmically amazing and unfathomable and yet so personal and intimate all at once.
When I think about my upcoming mission trip and try to imagine the experience, I am so grateful that I will get to be a part of offering a fragment of hope, of faith, of life. I reflect on the hundreds of people who have done that in my own life and again I am amazed at this orchestrated symphony of love and relationship that God conducts. Even through the deserts, the dead spaces, the valleys...I was being taught something, shown something and because of those instances, my experiences of being flooded with love and blessings, feeling so alive and on top of the world were enhanced. The magnitude of God's goodness being slowly revealed. If I have the opportunity to share a drink, a meal, a story, a song, and life-even if only for a moment- I hope it becomes a moment that someone else begins to feel the overwhelming goodness of the Creator of the universe.
Please pray for this trip...and for each of my days...that I be a bearer of the cup of Living Water, overflowing with mercy and grace and love.
Superwoman
Sometimes, I wish I were superwoman. I'm pretty sure this is a relatively normal aspiration. With so much on my plate I think I am giving about 75% in each area which equates to a sub par performance on every level. It is one of those days that I am seriously considering waking up at an absurd hour to clean my house so that I feel productive...I'll be sure to let you know if that happens. The real kicker is that even when I want to be better at my life, I seem to to do worse at it. I am not trying to create sympathy here...I am not sympathetic to apathy and laziness. I guess I am just writing it out in hopes of deciphering a root cause. At this point the conclusion is simply that I am lazy and apathetic...something that I hope to change somehow very soon. I have other theories but they really don't even merit a mention because I haven't been able to filter out the ones that are just excuses for my behavior. In the meantime, prayers are greatly appreciated as the one solid conclusion I have is that I am nothing and can do nothing without Him who gives me strength. Cliche? Take it or leave it.
Phi Theta Kappa
Tonight I had the opportunity to be inducted into the community college honor society, Phi Theta Kappa. It was such an honor. I really want to be excellent in what I do, whether that is as a follower of Christ, a wife, a mother, a friend, a writer or a student. Being recognized for one's effort and hard work is such a blessing that doesn't happen enough for all the amazing people I know, so being recognized for academic excellence was a special blessing for me. Not for one second can I take credit for it though! At any point that I excel at anything it is because of the grace of God on my life and the amazing people that are in it. My husband has been studying and working endlessly on his degree to become a Physician Assistant, he happily and graciously encouraged me to go back to school this year and finish my associates degree- never once complaining about the dinners he would have to make and the sacrifice of time that he would give from his own studies to help me succeed. He sat and listened to dozens of papers, poems and frustrations from me and always encouraged me to follow my dreams. My mother and other mother (Aldo's mom) have been pillars of encouragement and constantly stepped in, no matter the inconvenience for them, to facilitate my success in everything I try to do. Not to mention the friends and professors who have consistently been positive and encouraged me to keep writing and pursuing what I love. Anyway, I guess I am just reflecting on how blessed my life has been for me to even manage a level of excellence that gets recognition. Thank you to those that have encouraged me and gone out of your way to help me do what I love.
Maisha Means Life
Gah- it has been so long since I posted..I kind of slacked when I started The Ground At My Feet(www.thegroundatmyfeet.blogspot.com)...plus I have just been super busy! I have been processing so much lately too. Something that you have probably seen me post a billion times on facebook has to do with Maisha International Orphanage. (www.maishainternational.org) I am so excited to go on this trip and experience Maisha and Kenya. Choosing to go on this trip came with a lot of prayer and conversation, after all Aldo is finishing up school, preparing for boards, we have 3 small children and certainly finances are tight. All of these things led me to logically (and incorrectly) rule out going on the trip initially. It soon became very evident that this trip was something God wanted me to be a part of. Once Aldo and I had made the decision that I would go I had the task of explaining to Arielle, age 3, Leilani, age 2, and Loic, only 1, where I was going and why I was going and how that affected them. Okay so where was not too hard! My kids can point out Africa on a map and we talk about it and watch clips about Africa on a pretty regular basis. I then explained that at Maisha there were a lot of children whose mommy and daddy had died from a terrible disease called AIDS. So I asked them if they would be willing to share their mommy with the kids at Maisha for Christmas. Arielle and Leilani thought that was a great idea, even if it meant that I couldn't be with them for a couple weeks. Arielle immediately insisted that she give some of her toys and clothes to the kids- WOW! She is THREE and that was an idea all her own! She inspired me to pack clothes that I will wear during the trip and leave in Kenya as well as putting as much toys and clothing in the remainder of my suitcases as I can. There is something about watching your own child grasp the concept of sacrifice and giving that changes you a little bit, at least for me. I still get tears in my eyes just thinking about her reaction about my going on this trip. I just pray that I grasp sacrifice in the deepest sense possible because I know that it is something that sets me deeply in touch with who Jesus is and what He died for.
New Blog!
Well I did, at last, decide to publish a new blog featuring my poetry and writing.
Check it out and follow me if it interests you! I will still be posting over here about my life and other personal adventures and revelations, but over at The Ground At My Feet you will find new posts almost every day! Thanks for being interested in anything I have had to say!
Check it out and follow me if it interests you! I will still be posting over here about my life and other personal adventures and revelations, but over at The Ground At My Feet you will find new posts almost every day! Thanks for being interested in anything I have had to say!
Poetry
Ah poetry. Little can be said better than through the words of the poet. Having the opportunity to focus on poetry for a whole semester (and get a grade for it!) has left me stumbling happily between Kinnell, Poe, Basho, Plath and Ginsberg among others. Probably the most fantastic aspect of this class however, is exploring those graphic images of my memory, sucking out the emotions and meaningful moments, good and bad and undecided, to create something that is more than just writing. A major assignment this semester will be my portfolio. Although I won't share all my poetry via the blogosphere, there are times that I think I will, like today. I may even eventually create a new blog just for my poetry - stay tuned for that - I'm still not sure about it. In any case, the following narrative (and un-rhyming!) poem is one that I wanted to share. I wrote it for an assignment as my attempt at narrative poetry. I'll let the poem do the talking. Feel free to comment or question.
Eesti Vabariik (The Republic of Estonia)
by Megan Dinan
My eyes vacation on idyllic images of Tallin
Pressing on my retinas-
St Olav’s Spire piercing an empty Baltic sky,
St Catherine’s Passage full of those verified talents
And cobble stones unevenly pave the way to
Churches for St Mary, St Michael, St John,
St Simeon and the Prophetess Hanna, and two for St Nicholas.
The Holy Spirit Church’s clock indicates the time
I board the train to Keila.
My eyes sift through the rummage
Of over-occupation,
The remains of 90,000 german-murdered,
Innocent citizens unable to speak but managing
To visit through the blur of the train passing by.
Concrete ghosts stand gaping like dead men,
Remnants of crumbling communism-
In effigy of Stalin.
I step off the train onto rickety platforms,
Driven in an old car to the pretty, quiet camp.
I read a verse from my Estonian bible and
The empty hearts of Estonian youth drink
This spirituality from a cold river of relationship
Where western tourists believe that they have brought
The beginning of religion to a freshly democratic fairy tale.
Eesti Vabariik (The Republic of Estonia)
by Megan Dinan
My eyes vacation on idyllic images of Tallin
Pressing on my retinas-
St Olav’s Spire piercing an empty Baltic sky,
St Catherine’s Passage full of those verified talents
And cobble stones unevenly pave the way to
Churches for St Mary, St Michael, St John,
St Simeon and the Prophetess Hanna, and two for St Nicholas.
The Holy Spirit Church’s clock indicates the time
I board the train to Keila.
My eyes sift through the rummage
Of over-occupation,
The remains of 90,000 german-murdered,
Innocent citizens unable to speak but managing
To visit through the blur of the train passing by.
Concrete ghosts stand gaping like dead men,
Remnants of crumbling communism-
In effigy of Stalin.
I step off the train onto rickety platforms,
Driven in an old car to the pretty, quiet camp.
I read a verse from my Estonian bible and
The empty hearts of Estonian youth drink
This spirituality from a cold river of relationship
Where western tourists believe that they have brought
The beginning of religion to a freshly democratic fairy tale.
