i came back to ohio but my city was gone

"how could you ever give all of this up and move away?" he said so seriously.

initially, i left ohio for college. i wanted to study christian education and wvwc was my best option. i was happy to leave. i had no reservations about packing up and getting out of this boring state i had lived in my entire life. i wanted something new. i wanted an adventure.

i called west virginia home for four years of my life before moving to charlotte. charlotte was exciting. it was fresh-faced and fast-paced. i had a new apartment, new job, new restaurants, new shopping, new friends. i had a new life.

now that nothing in north carolina seems new anymore and i've just spent an incredible three days with friends and family who would love to see me move back here to ohio, i too pose the question, "why did i give all of this up and move away?"

tara and scott once said to me, "you're the one who got away." i didn't just get away. i fled the scene. i wanted something new and exciting. something anything but ohio.

the pretenders have a great song about the deterioration of ohio called 'my city was gone'. the lyric perfectly describes a few of the reasons i was so ready to leave as well as the reasons i am hesitant to return for good. i loved west virginia and the beautiful land there, while ohio seems to keep building shopping malls and paving parking lots where beauty once grew. i have very fond memories of growing up with faithful friends whom i love to visit, but i've always wondered if we'd have as much fun together if i were here more permanently. the biggest reason i resist returning though, is that i fear it will be the final destination for me.

ohio sucks people in and they never leave. there are so many places in this country where i've dreamt of living and i know that if i don't fit them in before moving back to ohio then the dream of living in denver or nashville or savannah or boston or new york is over. if i go back to ohio, i'll probably stay forever, and this commitment-phobe just isn't ready for that.

i ran as fast as i could to get out of ohio, and i'm glad i did but, while my city may very well be nearly gone, my state is not (sorry pretenders); and weekends like this make me homesick for the life that could be waiting for me here. spending time with chandra, derek, and the kids in the hocking hills (one of the most beautiful areas i have ever been to in my lifetime). catching the zombie walk in columbus with jacob. going to a clippers game with scott and tara. enjoying a cookout with garrick and mary. sleeping in, eating breakfast, and reading the paper with andrew. making smores over the backyard fire with brad. catching up with mike, ashley, and the fam. having lunch in amish country with grandma. watching tv on the couch with mom and dad. all of these things make my heart smile so big that it hurts.

but then the question becomes, how could i ever give up everything i have in north carolina? groupie evenings on the tour bus with marisa. wine vault performances by rich. cookouts with kara, monica, and jess. broadway talk with haley. broadway shows with jenny and sally. birthday dinners with the refugees. having kelly just down the highway a few hours. ikea outings with emily. going to the gym with becca. walking to work. office shenanigans with my amazing colleagues. tuesday and wednesday night tv with katy. my crazy students. the pfeiffer puppy pack. my home.

i guess this is a good problem to have, this being loved by and loving too many people in the world. who knows what the future holds. we'll just have to wait and see.

it's complicated

facebook status phenomenon: "i'm in a relationship and it's complicated."

really?

i see the status of friends and students change back and forth between "in a relationship", "single", and "it's complicated" so swiftly that i can't help but wonder, how do we define our relationships today?

is a relationship only a relationship if it's happy and carefree? are we single again when we're fighting? is it "complicated" when i'm upset because things don't go my way?

aren't all relationships complicated? i have a complicated relationship with my parents because sometimes they get me and sometimes they don't. i have a complicated relationship with my best friend because our individual neuroses sometimes confuse our communication. i have a complicated relationship with my hair because sometimes it wants to style the way i like it, but most of the time it rebels like the devil.

being in community with another human being is the beginning of complication in our lives. add a level of dependence and a notion for romance and the complication only rises. our relationships become complicated the moment we enter into them. ...a "you had me at hello" sort of thing.

so let's just go ahead and agree that all relationships are in fact complicated. then why carry that distinction on facebook? what's the point? and why do we distinguish certain types of difficulty in relationships as "complicated"?

i think we classify relationships as "complicated" when emotions and confusion are heightened. we say "it's complicated" when we don't feel like explaining that the distance is unbearable, or the addiction has resurfaced, or the heart has started to wander. we say "it's complicated" the same way we say "i'm good, and you?" as we cross paths with a coworker who asks how our day has been. we don't have the time or energy or desire to go into detail about how crappy of a day it has been and how you just wish you could go home and nap with your dog for the rest of the afternoon. we say, "it's complicated" because we've become lazy.

we don't care to divulge our dirty little secrets, and quite frankly it's no one else's business anyway. so why do we post it on facebook for the world to see? even today, in America the free, our status is somewhat defined by whether or not we have someone significant in our lives. whenever i go back to ohio, one of the first questions i always get is, "so hava, are you seeing anyone special?", which is gentle compared to the frankly rude, "why aren't you married yet?!" any woman who is single at a certain age is considered an old cat lady. any man who isn't dating a woman is gay. people fight daily over laws surrounding gay marriage. we Americans hold tightly to our idea of marriage. the cleaver family may not be the norm anymore, but it's still what society expects. fail to live up to that ideal, and you have failed at life.

maybe posting "it's complicated" is somewhat better than owning up to the shame of labeling yourself as "single". maybe posting "it's complicated" is a ploy to get friends to ask what's going on. maybe posting "it's complicated" is a declaration of the simple truth that every relationship is complicated - that every relationship needs the guidance of mentors, the love of friends, the support of family, and the promise from prayer to thrive.

the bottom line to making any relationship work is to treat it as such - work. love is a daily commitment. you have to try. you have to work at it. you have to devote yourself, your energy and your passion to making the relationship grow with each passing sunrise and sunset. that's love....

dreamcatcher

just a few inches from the foot of my bed, a pair of neon eyes reflecting the glow of my laptop stare at me through the darkness. once upon a time this would have scared the life out of me, but tonight i know them to be the watchful eyes of a cat who has lost his place on the bed because of a selfish dog who barely makes room for his master, let alone his rival.

i hear the quiet pitter patter of his gentle steps as he leaves the room to find sleep elsewhere in the house. it reminds me of a recurring night terror i've had for nearly a year now. in my dream, i wake to find a man lying behind me in the bed whispering into my ear all of the ways he's going to harm me. i can feel his breath on my neck. his chest rises and falls against my back with every breath he takes. near the foot of the bed i sense another man standing and watching. my rational mind starts to race, trying to remember the details of all those episodes of law and order svu i've had playing in the background while i pay bills or do homework.

a noise downstairs causes the men to leave in a hurry. i can hear their shoes pass against the carpet as they leave the room then race down the stairs. as i wake from the dream i wonder if i've heard the door slam shut downstairs or not. i lie there paralyzed by fear, not able yet to decipher what is real and what was only in my head. every time it's the same.

the recurring nightmares came to me very early on. the first i remember was when i was a little girl. similar to shel silverstein's poem 'the googies are coming', in my dream i would wake up to the sound of laughter outside my window. i'd look through the window to find a woman riding through the sky on a broom, carrying a large sack filled with kicking and screaming children. she'd catch me looking at her and select me as her next target. i'd always awake before she reached the window, but i still see the image sometimes when i visit my parents and sleep in that room again.

this last week some of my friends were on campus for a week-long intensive graduate class. while walking pete one day i ran into a classmate who said she was so glad that i had such a dog since i was a young woman living alone. she's not the first to make that type of comment. my initial reaction is to get defensive. i don't need a dog. i don't need a man. i'm perfectly fine out here in the world on my own! but i will say, that on those nights when the night terrors kick in, it's nice to have pete there when i wake up to remind me which world is real. pete wouldn't let a visitor go unnoticed, and he sure wouldn't let a man assault me.

sometimes i wonder if i would do well to get a dreamcatcher to hang over my bed. dreamcatchers originated with the chippewa tribes of native americans many moons ago. legend tells us that the web catches the bad dreams and holds them until daylight, when they perish. the good dreams, however, pass through the center of the web and slide down the feathers to delight the slumbering child below.

i'm not a child anymore, but the dreams have only matured along with my age. pete helps, but maybe a dreamcatcher is in order. or maybe it's time to figure out where the root of these dreams originates. maybe my kind of dreamcatcher is in the form of a counselor. one way or another, these terrors have got to stop.

the goodness of man?

i simply don't believe in "the goodness of man" that people so quickly idealize, and reading langdon gilkey's book 'shantung compound' in an ethics class a few years ago only made that non-belief even stronger.

i believe that people have the ability and even the notion to be good, but that our intuition calls us to be selfish. only when we overcome that selfishness that we do as john welsey taught, to "do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can." our instinct, however, is to take care of number one. it's basic survival mode.

kara and i were driving to pittsburgh for katie's wedding when we rounded a bend in the road and saw a car upside down in a ditch. first reaction: wow that sucks. assumed it happened days ago since no one was around and no other cars had stopped. second reaction a millisecond later: the wheels are still spinning. no other cars have stopped because there aren't any cars ahead of us on the road. holy crap, this JUST happened!

without a thought, kara pulls the car over while i pull out my cell phone. she runs across the interstate while i dial 911. "where are you?" the woman on the other end of the line asks. "northbound on I-77 in virginia, but not exactly sure where. a sign up ahead says 11 miles till hillsville."

a motorcyclist pulls over. he and kara try to get in the car.

"is there anyone in the car?" the woman on the phone asks. "yes." i say without knowing the answer for sure. i'm too afraid to look through the glass. if there were people in that smashed upside down vehicle, i was sure they were dead.

a van pulls over. the man has a wrench to break the glass. an older woman crawls from the drivers seat and outside through the back door. the passenger, an older gentleman, isn't quite so mobile. he's still strapped into his seat, hanging upside down from the ceiling. it's a few more moments before he gets unbuckled, flipped around, and pulled out of the other side of the car. i count 8 of us strangers helping the couple.

by now a man has a neon vest and is directing traffic. he must be a construction worker or part of a road crew. only a few passing drivers ask if we need help.

i hear the sirens and see the reflection of the distant flashing lights against the cars and the mountain side. it seems like forever before professional responders arrive on the scene. by now nearly everyone has left. "we better hit the road before this gets all backed up!" they said as they disappeared into their vehicles.

almost as quickly as everyone came together, they scattered.

a semi-truck driver is leaning on the car, repeating "i'm sorry"s to the couple. the older man from the passenger seat gently says, "i don't know how you didn't see us..."

kara and i stay until the couple starts to receive some medical attention (although they didn't have a scratch on them), only long enough after to ask one of the medics if we needed to stay for anything and them to say 'no'.

we were back on the road again, letting the adrenaline drive the rest of our road trip to pennsylvania.



sunday, on our trip back to north carolina, we stopped in elkins, west virginia to attend a benefit concert at the american mountain theater to support our friend and his recent cancer treatments. the performers spoke of miraculous hope and of generous love. they sang of a people who pray and of a God who heals.

we chose seats in the very back of the theater. i wanted to fully grasp the awesome power of the outpouring of love for matt. i wanted to see the rows of seats completely fill, and that i did. 600 people. plus all the people who gave for the cause, even after all of the seats had been sold.

if that's not a testimony of a man's life and the way he loves the people around him, then well i'm not sure i know what is.

"the goodness of man", eh? i still hold fast that our instinct is to go into selfish survival mode, but we have a higher calling to "do good" and if we let it, that good will overpower our egos.


i close with a quote from shantung compound:
"Our particular job of salesman, professor, or senator
may prove useless in a camp or even in the next historical moment.
But our neighbor is always with us,
in the city, in the country, or in the camp.

If the meaning of life on its deepest level is the service of God–
which in turn means the service of the neighbor's needs and fellowship with him–
then this is a task that carries over in to any new situation.

The creation and preservation of life
so that it may be enjoyed by all,
the development of community in the direction of justice,
the satisfaction of the needs of all our fellows through some practical work well done,
and finally the creation of fellowship with others–
these fundamental tasks, communal expressions in each case of the love of one's neighbor,
are present in any historical situation.

In each circumstance they call for
courage, integrity, self-sacrifice, energy, and intelligence;
and on them depends the life of civilization."

just a number

they say a relationship doesn't become official until facebook relationship statuses are updated. i say a personal connection isn't real until i add you to my cell phone book.

he's back again, and for the first time in 2 years he's listed in my phone.

every sporadic time that his number has come up on my phone over the past couple years i have instantly known who it was. there was no need to program the number in my phone. i knew it when i saw it.

furthermore, if it were in my phone i would be tempted to call or text and it's been in my best interest not to have that availability. he comes and goes from my life like mosquitoes or fireflies - sweeps back into my life for a while, just until i get used to the company, then all of a sudden one day i realize that they're gone. it's anywhere from 3-6 months before he returns.

tonight as i sat in the company of two great friends, at a table with great food, listening to great music (ok, not-so-great, but the series there was nice so i left it) i found myself selecting his latest text and adding a new contact to my phone book. so when he called to wish me a good night and sweet dreams tonight, i saw his name instead of a seemingly random set of ten numbers on the screen.

he's not just a number anymore. i have claimed his connection to me. i have claimed him.

do you ever feel like you're 'just a number'?

in class.
at the mall.
at the party.
in the grocery store.
at the gym.
during the morning commute.
in your family.
on your team.
to your boss.
in your church.
to God.

does any of that ring true for you?

i can't promise much from this list. unfortunately, all of us will be just a number at times throughout our lives. God though,.... God has numbered every hair on your head (Luke 12.7). You are clearly more than a number. God has claimed your connection. God has claimed you.

season of uncertainty, part 2

friends whose musical judgment i respect have recently been making mention of the avett brothers. the band name rattles off their tongues like i have a clue who they're talking about. i'm too ashamed to correct their assumption. to some, i am a musical reference. they come to me for recommendations of new artists to look out for. but these avett brothers that everyone talks about - well i've never heard of them.

i blame this partially on the fact that i haven't had cable for over a year and partially on the exhaustion i have felt in the past year as work has grown tougher and grad school has come to a close. my windows to the outside world have been hazy at best.

tonight things somewhat came to a head. i baked a carrot cake to celebrate laura and sandy tomorrow in the office, but the cake layers broke as they came loose from the pan. i started laundry, but didn't even make a dent. katy noticed water puddled on my kitchen floor and realized that it was leaking through the ceiling from the toilet upstairs. pete thought it would be a good idea to leave a pee trail all over the landing of the stairs. i still haven't begun rewriting my thesis which is due monday and i can't even think about taking my new testament final exam online until i have the graduate film finished for baccalaureate on friday.

on this same day, may 6th 2008, i wrote:
this will be known as the season of uncertainty for here on out. here i am again. potentially jobless...not knowing if i even want to stay in nc. wondering if it's time to head back to ohio for a while, or if it's time to go boldly to nashville or denver or savannah. question after question all over again...

funny how two years later i find myself in such a different place, and yet still so uncertain.

sure, i'm finishing up my masters degree. this should be a joyous occasion, right? but all i can think is, "okay, what's next?" it's clear that a chapter of my life is closing. but, like any good season finale cliffhanger, I haven't a clue where the opening paragraph of the next chapter will take me.

what does this have to do with the avett brothers? well, not much. but as everything was falling apart tonight i heard the lyrics of this new band with whom i am quickly and completely falling in love:

"we live uncertainty
and disappointments have to be
and everyday we might be facing more

and yes we live in desperate times
but fading words and shaking rhymes
there’s only one thing here worth hoping for

with lucifer beneath you and God above
if either one of them asks you what your living of
say "love"

when it don't come easy

i cringed as i boarded the plane and noticed the children sitting in the row in front of me. i don't like kids to begin with, but these two...well there was something especially rotten about them. for the next three hours they cried nonstop. no, not cried - shrieked. i believe katy called them "shrieking demons from hell." they were old enough to know better, but their mother had no control over them.

i pushed my earbuds further into my ear canals. patty griffin in full stereo:
"red lights are flashing on the highway
i wonder if we're gonna ever get home
i wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight"

the song ended and i hit replay. again. and again. (i'm one of those who listens to songs over and over again on repeat until it all blends into one.) i didn't think the flight would ever end...

"everywhere the water's getting rough
your best intentions may not be enough
i wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight"

after flight delays, hours of sitting on a runway, and those "shrieking demons from hell" i just kept hearing patty's haunting "i wonder if we're ever gonna get home tonight".

tonight, though, different lyrics jump out to me:
"but if you break down, i'll drive out and find you
if you forget my love, i'll try to remind you.
i'll stay by you when it don't come easy"

what would have happened on that plane if we had reached out in compassion to this woman and her two children? what if the whole plane broke out into children's songs? what if we had even just tried to talk with the kids? but we didn't.

with every scream i sank further into my seat. with every tear i tensed up a little tighter. i only got angrier and angrier, knowing that if it were my child that they would have behaved better. knowing that i would know how to handle the situation so much better.

i believe that the Creator made us to be in communion with each other. i believe that we were created to love and support one another, but that goes against the deeply embedded individualistic ideal we have here in america. we are supposed to be completely self-sufficient and keep to ourselves. it used to be that neighbors would come running if they heard a scream from a neighboring house. now we just assume it's none of our business. people are hurting and dying in our streets while we ignorantly carry on about our own little lives.

patty preaches something different though. patty says we have to stand by each other when the road is rough, that we should offer our hands in service to those who wonder if they'll ever get home again. it's easy to say that our circles of friends, our churches, our universities, our communities, our nation are strong when things are going well, but the true test of communion is how we treat each other when the going gets tough.

"someone will say what's been said before, 'it's only love that we're looking for'"

i bet that mother got off of that flight, reached her destination, and cried herself to sleep in humiliation for her kids' behavior. it was miserable for all of us - her included. what if we had shown grace to her and her kids? what if we had tried to help instead of silently stewing in our seats? i think we all would have stepped off of that plane much happier people. after all, it's only love that we're looking for...

dog tags

pete had surgery a couple weeks ago. it was a simple surgery, but he had stitches and was forced to wear the cone of shame. (if i ever figure out how to upload photos from my cell phone onto my computer i'll share the adorable little humiliated pup)

the day had finally come when the cone could come off. i took it off and we played and played around the house. he ran up and down the stairs like a fool and i watched, giggling in my chair. i gave him a bath and reached for the collar that he hadn't worn in over ten days.

pete could not contain his excitement! he tried to sit still but his tail just kept wagging at lightning speed, causing his whole body to shake with anxiousness.

it took me a moment to get it on there with all of the movement, but it finally latched. he paraded around the house with his snout pushed out and his head held high. i couldn't help but picture a pageant queen with her crown. he was so proud...

who knew that a dog would be so happy to wear his collar? like he wanted everyone in the world to know that his name is pete havelka, that he belongs to me, and that he has his rabies vaccination.

today in chapel we celebrated the "u2-charist". (catch the funny play on the band u2 and the eucharist?) the whole service featured music and video from the band u2 and we celebrated holy communion at the end. i love communion. you can call me weird, but i look forward to communion sundays. i love the idea that i can come before the Lord in this cleansing ritual and ask forgiveness for the stupid decisions i've made and be made whole again. i know that i could do it any day of the week, and i do, but there is something about this ritual of remembering the life and death of Christ that the cleansing of sin is made more real to me.

i doubt pete has ever thought about his rabies vaccination like communion before, but would i wear a tag proclaiming my forgiven self to everyone in the world like pete wears his?

are you that proud of who you are? whose you are?

practically everyone on campus knows pete and knows that he is mine. they don't need a dog tag to let them know that he belongs to me, but it's there just in case. just in case he gets loose or runs away from me, so a stranger would know where to return him.

pete and i were playing fetch in the front yard yesterday when he noticed a neighbor walking their dog across the street. (i say street, but it's a highway. and a railroad.) he flew across the street, even though katie and i were screaming his name to come back. he didn't even flinch.

sometimes we run. sometimes we are running so fast in the other direction that we don't even hear God calling after us. it may be as innocent as running to see a harmless friend, but when we forget to listen to our Master's voice then we put ourselves in danger.

pete could have been hit by the semi truck that passed by only seconds before he darted across the road. he could have ran past the neighbor and out into the unfamiliar forest beyond the houses. luckily, he's sleeping next to me on the couch tonight while i watch tv and think about doing some homework.

how would our lives be different if we were truly proud of the titles we keep? do you wear your name - who you are and whose you are - like a beauty queen's crown? do you wear it like pete wears his dog tags - with your head held high? do you live in ways that you and your Master can be proud of?

or are you running away?

colorado consciousness

we rounded the bend and there it was. this beautiful lush green tree in direct opposition of the white and black rocky mountains in the not so distant background, like an artist had painted a stark canvas in the dark lonely cold of winter and only bought green paint in the spring when life began to bloom again.

i couldn't help but stare. i leaned toward the window like a little child arriving at the gates of disneyworld for the first time. it was beautiful. it was haunting.

sometimes i feel like that tree. i'm a round bright tree in a world of spiked spruces and pines and snow dusted black mountain peaks. i feel like somehow i don't make sense against the world that surrounds me. like the master Artist created for me a charcoal masterpiece and i took a child's electric lime crayon and scribbled in the middle.

i felt my nose hit the glass, i caught consciousness again.

none of my photos do the scene justice. just like my words never seem to be sufficient.

the last days

i can barely take a second more
the ticking of the clock
the dripping of the leaky faucet
the struggle of his every breath

every second seems longer than the last

*breathe in*
tick...tock...
*and out*

i can't believe that this lifeless body is him
he simply can't be there anymore
he wouldn't have fought this hard
my grandpa wasn't a fighter
he was the kindest man i ever knew

*breathe in*
drip...drop...drip
*and out*

i start to dream of where he must be now
of islands and leis and coconut milk
with a beer in his hand
and his twerp at his side
they're dancing to the playful melody of steel drums and ukeleles

*breathe in*
tick...tock...tick...tock*
*and out*

i never did get that pet name of her's.
what does "twerp" mean anyway?
was it because grandma is so short?
grandma doesn't remember.
it's too late to ask him.

*breathe in*
drip...drop...drip...
tick...tock


...he didn't breathe out



is this the end?



...*breathe in*
tick...tock...tick...tock
drip...drop...drip


with every breath now we stare.
is this the last?
what about this one?
the constant rhythm of the breath and the clock and the faucet,
it's now not so constant.


time of death: 7:45am


quietly in the stillness of the morning
i hear grandpa say to me
"breathe in"