The Orchid Journal

During our Christmas lunch this afternoon, my mom read the Nativity story from the book of Luke. She explained to my nephews that Christmas was celebrating Jesus' birthday, that we celebrate him coming to earth as a baby to rescue us. To punctuate the joyous news in a concept that the three and five year old crowd could understand, the adults around the table shouted out birthday greetings to Jesus. Happy birthday,Jesus! Thank you for saving us! Happy birthday to you,happy birthday to you! My five year old nephew proceeded to ask his father if we could call Jesus to wish him a Happy Birthday. "What is his phone number?" he wondered. We all chuckled. I said, "Well, Jesus doesn't have one. He doesn't need one because we can just talk to him out loud or from our hearts and he'll hear us." Of course a concept like Jesus having a phone number could not be ignored in my goofy family, so we ran with it. Brother-in-law1: What if He did have a ...

Thank you, Washington Post for this tribute: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/nation/newtown-school-shooting-victims/

The funny thing about days is that the same one never comes twice. Mondays are traditionally the worst days of the week because they start a school or work week, but I've had Fridays that were more tragic than a month full of Mondays. I've heard friends bemoan the travesty of a mundane day, that their lives never change, that day in and day out, nothing interesting happens. There are times when I identify with this sentiment, however, I've found that the "rituals" of our lives never happen the same way twice. There are horrid days, tragic, and splendid days, days of sunshine, days of rain, an earthquake on one day, a thunderstorm on another, a boring day, a cold day, a surprisingly fun day, a day of routine and a day of wild freedom. One day, while visiting a vintage shop in Burlington, VT, a squirrel sauntered in through the second story window via a nearby tree branch. The squirrel, presumably a female for her interest in dresses, tight-roped along the ...

In case anyone is wondering, I am in the midst of packing and cleaning at my current location (which has no internet) and moving into and painting my new place. Also, I had relatives visiting for the holidays. The next two weeks are the CRUNCH time, so this is the reason for the sudden cessation of the week-daily posts. I plan to resume full force once I get more settled into my new neighborhood. Thanks for your patience!

(coloring in the grass at the Botanical garden, summer 2011) My 16 year old younger brother and I were texting the other day, agreeing that the life of as an Aunt or Uncle is indeed blessed. We have three other siblings, a 36 year old brother with 4 kids, a 35 year old sister with 2 kids, and a 25 year old sister with one child and a baby on the way. Brendan and I discussed the fact that the role of aunt or uncle is unique. Like our nieces and nephews' parents, we are adults and have similar traits and backgrounds as their parents. Like their parents, we can teach, sometimes correct, play and be an example for them as (hopefully) well adjusted human beings. Unlike their parents, we are not their parents! We can spoil them, act like kids with them more often, and speak into their lives in a way that is simply...different...than their parents can for the mere fact that we are the aunt or uncle and completely unique people of our own. Sometimes as aunts and uncles, we...

This is Vladimir. Or I should say, was, Vladimir. I've had pets my whole life, mostly dogs, with the occassional rescued lizard, bird, giant grasshopper or other injured animal that crossed my path thrown in the mix. Part of my degree is in Equine Studies where I learned to train, ride and care for horses, not so much because I wanted a career in the horse world, but more because I loved horses and wanted to learn how to "communicate" with them. When I moved here two years ago, the only pet I had available were the pantry mice which we had to (heartbreakingly) eradicate via traps covered in peanut butter and cheese. My nurturing nature which adored animals more than most things in life could not bear the long separation from pet-keeping, but I had little money to buy a pet, let along pay for its upkeep. Then, one day in April, I saw Vladimir. I was wandering around PetSmart which I sometimes do for fun because I like to look at the animals, when I saw the Be...

My younger sister sent me the following video this week. She and her husband are preparing to be missionaries in Kenya and they were shown this video during the training. The video struck a chord with both of us deeply and now I share it with you. I encourage you to take the time to listen: Summit Sunday - Jeff Manion: The Land Between from Chris Drummond on Vimeo .

(friend's child lounging in front of an ironic poster, 2009) When I was growing up, I often heard the following cliches: "Your childhood is the best time of your life" "Youth is wasted on the young." "High school are the best years of your life." "College years are the best years of your life." Even as a kid, I was highly skeptical of those phrases. I remember feeling idignant that the adults assumed I was frittering away my days in blissful ignorance, unappreciative of my youth. For as long as I can remember, I have been happy at whichever age I succeeded in reaching, rarely wanting to be older, never wishing I could go back in time. While I had a loving family and many pleasant experiences, in general looking back on my childhood, it sucked. I will not divulge the reasons why at the moment, but be content with the knowledge that I am much happier being an adult even in my underemployed, poverty-striken, unmarried state of exis...

(Downtown St. Louis, 2011) Normally I have gobs of photos to show the world in "Tour of...Tuesday," but today is a special day, one that only comes around every four years and is preceded by at least a year of incessant noise. Presidential Voting Day! Despite having had a busy day, missing a key bus, walking frantically through a dark industrial park to barely make it to the polls in time, miraculously I was only fourth in line at 6:25pm! For the first time since I started voting, I was sent to an electronic ballot which was speedy. I liked the sound of the ticker tape printing all of my answers as I tapped the screen. The voting officials were friendly, albeit weary from sitting at their long table since 5am that morning. One man said, "I haven't seen the light of day. Not even through a window." I replied that he hadn't missed much since it had been cloudy and dreary all day. Another man asked me if it was raining, but it was only a he...

(stock photo from online) What a day! Once again I am car-less after seven glorious and miraculous months of having cars to borrow from friends and relatives. Thankfully, Mondays I start work at my latest hour: 11am. With a car, on Mondays I can go to the gym in the morning, sleep in, make a hearty breakfast, make lunch or go food shopping, and leave for work around 10:35 to be there on time. Without a car, in a different story. I woke up at 8am (still a nice leisurely time for a Monday, I admit), got ready, ate a bowl of cereal, made a speedy lunch, packed my bag for the gym later, and left the house. Normally it only takes me 45 minutes to do all that without a morning shower, but I wasn't feeling well this morning so I was slower and so left the house at 9:30. It was raining. Without a car and depending on the bus schedule, I can either walk 22 minutes to the train station or catch the 59 Dogtown bus which stops near my house to get to the station. I couldn't...

This is an after the fact Friday post, but there is still time for you, dear reader, to find a frolic-filled endeavor this weekend! My suggestion for this weekend is to support a local educational facility (primary or secondary school, community college, university, art school, or in my case today, a seminary) by attending one of their events. Schools are constantly holding some fundraising event, sports tournaments, concerts, plays, dance performances, guest speaker or student presentations which are open to the public. This evening, I attended Covenant Theological Seminary's FIRST annual Talent Show! Since I attend a Presbyterian Church (PCA) and work in a place where many seminary students end up working, I have a plethora of seminary student friends. Being in the environment that these friends are immersed daily was a pleasure because I am able to see them in their element, meet first hand the "famous" professors on campus, and learn the inside jokes that all...

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:4-9 The earth is not always in a state of spring fever with sun shining, birds twittering and flowers blooming. In winter it is dark, cold, the trees are bare and ice covers the streams. Summer, there are raging thunderstorms, intense heat, and fall earth is settling down, preparing for a ...

This Wednesday, my thoughts do not feel "weighty" unless you count the "weighed down/miserable" type of weighty and not the "deep, thought provoking" weighty I normally mean. Right now I am sitting in my local library using their internet to squeeze in this Wednesday blog entry before the library closes in ten minutes. All week I have been helping my cousin move out and the furnace broke I have been talking to another cousin in California over the phone trying to fix it vicariously through my mechanically ignorant self. With my cousin moving out, there went our internet, and since I am moving out at the end of this month, I'm trying to utilize the nearby library and coffee shops' internet. So, please forgive the fact that these posts will come at odd hours of the day and will probably be scatter-brained for the next month. To be honest, I am SO TIRED! Moving wears on me more than anything I can think of, mostly because it terrorized my ...

The St. Louis Union Station is a fascinating structure with its vaulted metal roof slats covering a man-made pond where trains used to idle, its wanna-be mall portion, grand hotel-venue space and intermittent historical displays throughout the building. The building itself is worth seeing as there are original tiles, mosaics, and stained glass windows even in "mundane" places such as the restrooms! The main entrance is beautiful and often used as a venue space. I don't have any photos of the outside of the building or the dramatic fountain in front, but they make for a stunning spectacle. There is an archway in the entrance of the building which, upon my first visit to Union Station as a teenager, my dad demonstrated that a person can whisper to a friend on the other side of the room by facing the wall of the arch. My one major critique of Union Station is that the mall portion of Union Station is sadly lacking in interesting stores. There is a food cour...

(photo of a card I made in 2009) Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12 There are so many "deferred longings" in my life, it's a miracle my heart hasn't stopped beating. HOPE: (v) to cherish a desire with anticipation The image of a "longing fulfilled" metaphorically described as a tree of life, brings to mind a seed, dead and buried in the ground bursting to the sky! A tiny seed bringing forth a massive, breathtakingly beautiful organism capable of producing oxygen for the earth, shade for people, home for the birds of the air and creatures like squirrels. Maybe this longing fulfilled will be for the benefit of the world and not only for the hopeful one. HOPE: to desire with expectation of obtainment; to expect with confidence Do you ever wonder what it would be like to Hope without reservation? To know and trust completely that your desire will be accomplished? Imagine having the ass...

(View from Catalina Mountains, Tucson, 2009) One of the churches I attended in Tucson a few years ago held an outing called "Mountain Solitude." For this excursion, we would meet early in the morning on a Sunday in the parking lot of the church (our services started at 5pm on Sundays, so it didn't conflict) and then drive up the Catalina Mountains together. I often wanted to escape the desert to see trees and water up the mountains, but I get scared driving on them, so it was a blessing to go in a group with someone else driving. The group usually consisted of only a few people. The purpose of this once a month trip was, once we arrived at a stop off place up the mountain, to spend alone time in prayer, journaling, or writing songs or poems. We would split up to walk around or find a spot to sit alone. Especially when living in a city, in a large family, and busy with school, work or the general daily life chaos, it is easy to let our moments be filled with nois...

(Paper "chandelier" in The Chapel St Louis, MO) I am 28 years old. I have moved 23 times in my life. No, my father was not in the military. In 2010 I was living in Tucson, AZ, armed with my BA degree and preparing to head to Spain to teach English, but the plans fell through. As I prayed, asking God for clarity as to what I should do next instead, he said, “Pick a place to live and make it your home.” Considering my background, this directive was huge! It felt freeing to know that God saw a deep desire of my heart, to have a home, to set down roots, and it was daunting because I had been to countless places, hadn't seen many more of them and didn't trust myself to make a good decision. As I was born in, and lived a more significant portion of my life in Missouri, I considered this my home more than anywhere else. However, I wasn't sure if it was the place I was going to choose until we drove over the bridge into the city while on a road trip with my ...

(Car show 2009, Tucson, AZ) When I was eight years old, I realized that I was alive. Completely unaware of any looming revelation, I was sitting in the backseat of my family's long, blue station wagon that we nicknamed, “The Boat” because of its immense size. My parents joked that driving that huge station wagon was like maneuvering a cruise ship. With the ceiling fabric sagging like the skin of an elderly woman and the cushioned blue seats, the inside of “The Boat” was reminiscent of my grandmother's lap, cozy, safe and warm. Throughout my childhood, I spent an incredible amount of time in the car as we took "drives" most weekends, visited relatives every summer, and moved over ten times before I was eighteen. Sitting in the car and looking out the window was where I imagined grand adventures of living alone in the woods along the highways, where I had profound epiphanies, and where I was surprised into stopping my 10 year habit of thumb sucking. That is ...

Powell Hall is the home of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. When I was a teenager, I played my cello in a youth orchestra on Powell Hall's stage. My Uncle Dick brought me to see Handel's Messiah being performed in the space. As a young adult, my cousin and my best friend had their wedding reception in the grand entrance of the Hall. If those weren't enough memorable experiences in one place, this weekend I was privileged to hear Wynton Marsalis in concert with the St. Louis Symphony ! My favorite aspect of the space, besides the towering ceilings, grand staircase, balcony levels, massive windows adorned by red curtains, are the chandeliers! The glimmer and sparkle! The cascading crystals! Okay, I'm done being schmaltzy . (Note: My camera was on the wrong setting all night, so all the photos are sadly grainy. I was trying to covertly take photos for this post without looking too much like a tourist, so they are off center too.) For the Marsalis co...

As a kid, I hijacked my parents' tapes, records, and CDs to listen to genres from classical to Blues, Latin and Jazz, Celtic to opera. My mom especially liked the classical and Celtic music while my dad enjoyed the rest. I credit my parents for my wide range of musical genre interest. They appreciated each other's music and their tastes met in the middle with opera and Wynton Marsalis. My mom had recordings of Marsalis playing Vivaldi and dad had his Jazz. This weekend, I had the unexpected pleasure of being invited to hear Wynton Marsalis play for the first time with the St. Louis Symphony! The "Red Velvet Ball" concert was held on Saturday October 20 and featured Wynton Marsalis' genius Swing Symphony. Throughout the concert I was struck by the seamless melding of the Jazz and classical worlds. Sometimes when Jazz music is transposed from the more typical Jazz ensemble pieces to accommodate an entire orchestra, the music sounds trite, like classically p...

Watching animals play in the wild or interacting with tame ones, is a source of great inspiration. I grew up with dogs and enjoyed making up games to play with them, like a dog-human version of hide and seek or tag. When I learned how to train and ride horses at the University of Arizona, I delighted in observing the beautiful creatures frolic together, and, learning how to interact playfully while riding them or in our down times during training sessions helped me bond with them faster. The ubiquitous squirrels, birds, lizards and rabbits scurry, climb and chase each other or dash through the air in undulating patterns. Even my Betta fish Vladimir is a source of play. I laugh when a piece of food lands on his face and he bemusedly shakes it away. This weekend, play with your pet or observe animals' play in nature. Be inspired:

The window of my dorm room at William Jewell College in Missouri where I attended my first year of college overlooked my favorite place on campus, which, oddly enough, was a historic graveyard on the top of a hill. I wandered through that graveyard, night or day, and often found a tree to sit under to do my homework. Walking through the grass or sitting quietly in that space was never a creepy experience for me. It was peaceful, since rarely anyone else would be there and the ancient gravestones and massive trees made for a mysterious vista. I read the inscriptions on the grave stones and thought about the people who had lived their lives so many years ago. I wondered if anyone remembered them now, or if they had lived their lives well. I walked amongst the graves imagining what kind of people were buried there and thought about the fact that they were like me at one time, living life uniquely, facing its joys and sorrows with death looming in their future. I wondered if they knew G...

(Tucson, AZ Reid Park rose garden, 2009) One day in 2008, I walked into the kitchen to find a note written in my parents' recognizable handwritings. Our family constantly leaves notes for one another, about where to find a house key, to make each other laugh, or to remember to do a chore. This note was different. Playing off the "roses are red" poem, my parents had written awkward verses questioning their love for one another. Imagine how, as their daughter, it felt to come upon that first thing in the morning! I was scared, heartbroken, but also inspired to challenge their assumptions and answer their questioning with my own play of words using that same poem. My poem is not necessarily better crafted, but when I gave it to my horticulturist father and then my mother, they understood the answer. The Gardener Roses are red Even when they're dead Albeit of a rustier hue. Roses are red unless they are Purple or yellow, orange or blue. Love is the rose...

The Sophia M. Sachs Butterfly House , located in Faust Park in Chesterfield, MO, is an offshoot of The Missouri Botanical Garden. Since moving to St. Louis in 2010, I have only visited twice, but the visits were momentous! The first time, I walked around with my friend Jenny for the December 2011 "Snow in the Tropics" display featuring 1000 Paper Kite Butterflies. My friend and I delighted in the large Paper Kites which landed on our sleeves, hands, all over the head of a white haired man wearing a red sweater, on the baby strollers, and on our brochures. The butterfly house is warm, filled with light, plants, flowers, water, and paths. Because of the design and how many marvels there are to see, the place feels larger than the actual square footage. The exciting aspect of visiting this magical place is that they change the "features" every month. My second visit to the Butterfly house was completely different than the first. Besides the fact that I we...

( The mini animals take the train. ) Probably the hardest part of a Monday morning is the process of dragging oneself to work after a weekend of fun or rest. Once at work, the doldrums may remain, but at least for me, prepping my mind for returning to work mode and facing another week of commuting is difficult. When my car died in September 2011 and I was not able to afford fixing it, let alone get another one, the commute became almost unbearable. Via car, even in rush hour traffic, it took me at most 25 minutes each way to and from work. Without a car all winter, I then took four bus rides and two train rides a day for a total of THREE HOURS a day of traveling just for work. Mondays were hellish at the thought of facing another week like that. Subsequently, I devised a myriad of coping mechanisms that you may find helpful whether taking a car or public transportation on Monday. ~ listen to a "book on tape" through your car or ipod ~ Pick someone out from the c...

(photo: My uncle's dog loves to play!) If you want to have a splendid life and stay young at heart, you need to implement one crucial aspect to your days: PLAY! This is not a ploy to "get in touch with your inner child." This is a fact, supported by research somewhere I'm sure, but for now, know that I am right and will be proved right by someone else's research. I'm a writer! You can't expect me to do all the work! Anyway, people usually assume children know the most about play and need to do the most playing. Adults need to leave playing behind them and move on to more important matters, right? If you want to life a miserly life and die of heart failure or depression, sure, go ahead. I'm convinced that we are made to play. All animals play and we humans have a myriad more "unnecessary actions" than any animal on earth that we employ just for our enjoyment. Play helps us stretch our imaginations, lowers stress, allows us to t...