Politik

Look at earth from outer space

Everyone must find a place

Give me time and give me space

Give me real, don't give me fake

Give me strength, reserve control

Give me heart and give me soul

Give me time, give us a kiss

Tell me your own politik

Open up your eyes

Open up your eyes

Open up your eyes

Just open up your eyes

Give me one, cause one is best

In confusion, confidence

Give me piece of mind and trust

Don't forget the rest of us

Give me strength, reserve control

Give me heart and give me soul

Wounds that heal and cracks that fix

Tell me your own politik

Open up your eyes

Open up your eyes

Open up your eyes

Just open up your eyes

And give me love over, love over, love over this, ahhh

And give me love over, love over, love over this, ahhh

Today I taught the team I am helping lead to Haiti a drama put to this song. During my DTS, three years ago, Chad came up with the idea and a couple of us put the whole thing together. The entire song is mouthed as a dialoge between God, satan and man.

I have color coded the lyrics to help yall out.
Bold font = God
Normal font = Man
Red font = satan

I love this drama and not only because my DTS made it but because it depicts our will as humans to be strong without God, the destruction that it leads to and Gods undying love for us. I also have never seen one done quit like this. And it's to a Coldplay song ... can't get much better.
When I showed the group a video of this drama, as preparation, one of the comments was "this makes me want to cry", because it portrays God's love and our true desperation for Him so clearly.

I'll leave you with this: God is singing to you, asking for your love.

Bowling Shoes

Recently I came to the realization that I needed to let go of “home” and of course this revelation came while I was sitting on a bathroom floor staring at a pair of bowling shoes.

As part of Youth Department training we had some required fun activities; we called them “forced fun” times. Last Saturday was one of these times. All 18 of us went bowling in the morning and then went over to a house to watch a World Cup game. Somewhere in between frame 4 and 5 of the first game I ended up running to the bathroom, trying to keep myself from sobbing.
Being here in Orlando without my family and friends has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. For once in my life I actually have healthy relationship with my sister, my mom and I are closer than ever, and I have a lot friends who have made it past all my barriers. Unfortunately every single one of these people live in Greenville, North Carolina.  With Saturday being my sisters graduation I already had a bad case of “it” aka homesickness, but adding in the bowling alley knocked me off the edge.

To give a little insight: As a kid my dad would take my sister and I bowling rather frequently. He was on several leagues and loved to bowl and we loved the fact that there was also an arcade there. Since his death I’ve been bowling maybe three times …. and never outside Greenville.

Being homesick is a weird thing. Everything reminds you of home. Food, smells, clothing. Or the lack of them makes you realize how much you appreciate. Before moving to Florida three months ago I had never experienced this.

Sitting on that bathroom floor I stared at my shoes. These shoes that hold so many memories in my mind. My sister and I trying our hardest to use correct technique, running around in the arcade, and attacking a plates of chili cheese fries. That is home for me. And sadly enough I need to learn how to make new memories. Not to let go of any, but to be able to move forward in life. I don’t know how to explain this, but the realization that I was holding on, rather tightly, to home hit me while I sat there. A practical way to start walking this out came to mind: my name.
Since being here I have been very adimit about the fact that I want to be called Ireland, not Rebekah, Beckie,  or Beccah. Yes, part of it is because there is another Rebecca here and I don’t like people to shorten my name. But when people have called me by my first name I have offended and upset, much more then I should have been. It is because I was associating my name with home. Every time someone called me by my first name it reminded me of home and because I wasn’t letting go, it would hurt. Sitting on that dirty tiled floor I decided to let go. It was just a thought, a simple choice, but it made a difference. I’m moving forward now.

Funny how much a pair of bowling shoes could change my life.

I'm boring

Listening to this reminds me of how joyful and fun being inGods presence is.

Sadly I lose sight of that sometimes. To quote Corey Russell "God isn't boring, you are boring". Time spent with God will be whatever we allow it to be.

International Night

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people crammed into K2 (we nickname all the houses). International Night was a time for all of us to come together and celebrate our nationalities with food.

I personally decided to contribute sweet tea to the menu; I thought about mashed potatoes but decided to go with something a little easier to make. And Im glad I did since no one else thought to bring a drink.

There were people there representing tons of countries: Nigeria, Sweden, Japan, Egypt, Canada, Russia, Dominican Republic, and Switzerland and others I can’t remember.

What I loved the most, of all the food, was the borsch. I don’t know who even brought it, but being able to have a bowl of beet soup was surprisingly very satisfying. Oddly enough I think I had borsch only twice in Russia.

to the left: Ibrahim (Nigeria), Theresa (Sweden),and  Keturah (Japan)

to the right: Patrick (one of the DTS students this quarter) eating borsch.