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internally processing until further notice

blessed be Your name, when the sun's shining down on me,
when the world's all as it should be; blessed be Your name.
blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering,
oh, there's pain in the offering; blessed be Your name.

every blessing You pour out, i turn back to praise.
when the darkness closes in, Lord still i will say...
blessed be the name of the Lord

You give and take away, You give and take away
my heart will choose to stay. Lord blessed be Your name.

emerging professional

tomorrow i leave for my first professional trip.
[the last statement does not posses the excitement i feel as i write it]

at the beginning of june, i wrote an essay in regards to my feelings on internship. you see, technically, i am not yet an architect. i am an intern architect. i cannot practice as an "architect" until i become licensed as one, which requires me to first go through idp and then pass 9 architect registration exam. for those readers who have not been infected by the world of architecture, idp [intern development program] is the 2 year minimum time period architects must go through before they are allowed to take a series of nine exams. doctors endure residency, architects waddle through idp. however, an architect's intern process is far from the refined process of a medical resident.
idp is far from what it is capable of being and thus the conference,
designing tomorrow's architect: the 2005 internship conference in san antonio, and thus the essay competition which got me there.

25 "emerging professionals" [as we are called because "intern" is no longer politically correct...thanks goes to monica l.] were selected from the pool of essays and will join with 50 other professionals from other architecture organizations. fueled around four catalytic words, empowering, innovating, envisioning, connecting, the hope is to take major steps towards a more cohesive and beneficial internship program. friday and saturday are filled with lectures and discussions. thursday night we begin with a reception to celebrate what has already been accomplished and naturally, will end with a similar gathering saturday night at the witte museum. the conference will conclude sunday with a time of de-briefing and a press conference.
all of this at no expense to me [my favorite part].

I am excited to begin my passage into the architecture world through IDP. As I begin my journey, I do not yet have the experience or knowledge necessary to walk on my own; I rely on the solid path of others who have gone before me. When I look back as I a professional, I hope I will have left a path for others to follow. We may only embark into the profession once, but we will spend ourcareers emerging into the mentors and architects we once dreamed of being. As the architecture community strengthens its fresh, moldable new members, the profession as a whole will be enriched and reinvigorated, which in turn will delineate a clearer path for future emerging professionals.
[essay excerpt]

first katrina, now rita. while most people are exiting these women's path of destruction, i am about to journey into it. i think i secretly believe i posses some unknown power to ward off any disaster upon my visit and nothing bad will happen. we'll see how that goes. i look forward to the new faces, new conversations, and new experiences.

scar stories

the spring of my fourth year of college, i spent 6 months traveling/studying in europe. unexpectedly, i also spent 6 days as a patient in the uvn praha military hospital with second degree burns on 35% of my legs. it was one of those stories in life i never thought i would be personally writing; something i never imagined would happen to me. nothing is out of the realm of possibility.

the medicine in prague was very basic. the hospital looked like one we have had here in the 50s. many minor injuries were treated in the hospitals there and my 6 day stay would have been unheard of in the US. every morning the nurses would take me to a room down the hall where they would remove the white bandages, drain my blisters, apply a new antibiotic ointment, and wrap me back up until the next day.

i have never known such physical pain as i did when the hot oil first spilled down my legs. although it was never a sharp, intense pain, it was a slow, dull pain which i could feel sinking deeper into my skin. ten days after the initial accident, i relived being burned all over again. before my new skin on my legs could grow back they had to remove all of the dead skin. it was still covering and protecting the wounds, but wasn't allowing new skin to grow. it was the weirdest feeling...i could hear them cutting and feel them pulling something off of my legs, but it seemed like it should be the gauze, not my own skin. the most painful part, though, was when the doctor applied the ointment to the vulnerable area in hopes of warding off infection and healing might begin again...things had to get worse before they could get better. i remembered returning to my bed and burying my head in my pillow and turning up my headphones as loud as they would go, trying to drown out anything i could feel. i just wanted those painful moments to pass so badly, but time wouldn't hurry.[my first day in the hospital; the day before the skin was removed; i knew i should have painted my toes; sunburned looking legs; my favorite tennis shoes which still hold the slightest hint of oil.]

the next day, i stood in awe. when the bandages were removed, i could already see progress. my legs were beginning to look like my legs again and not the messy, and mangled things they looked like the day before. i could already see new skin growing in some areas. healing couldn't begin until all of the old skin was gone because it was keeping the new skin from developing.

i've been thinking about this chapter in my life a lot lately. that early may, God gave me a tangible example of one of life's lessons. how often do i hold onto things that make me dead and lead me a way from full life? i try to fix things on my own and don't want to let go of the fears i have because i don't want to be vulnerable to pain again. i think the easier, wide, less vulnerable route is the one i want. life is found on the narrow path and few find it.

pain is part of the plan.

there must first be suffering before there can be healing.

there has to be cleansing before there can be growth.

i must be torn down before i can be rebuilt.

i worried when the accident first happened that i would never be able to look at my legs the same because they would always be unattractive to me. i thought they would be ugly and i would always be embarassed to show them. i don't look at them the same now but for different reasons. the skin is discolored and when they tan the scars become splotchy. i no longer have to shave that part of my leg and i think i will always have white marks on my ankles from the blisters. but they are a part of me now, a part of my story. they made me stronger and i am better because of them; sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better.
they tell me it is worth it because He is worthy.

no discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees [and burned legs.] make level paths so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. [hebrews 12:12-13]

older version of my eight-year-old self

growing up, i was a creative child. sometimes i think my mom must have just looked at me and laughed wondering what i would come up with next. i was always making or creating something, imagining or forming something into being. many of my creations were started with such passion and excitement only to never see their own completion. i always tried to do things bigger or better than they needed to be; some things never change. i remember one time i got into cross stitching and rather than begining with a magnet for the refrigerator or a pillow for my grandma, i decided to make a 3'X3' canvas of a scene from charlotte's web. needless to say, i never even finished the pink on wilber. i built an entire plaster model of the white house successfully, but unsuccessfully, got my foot stuck in a bucket of the stuff. i had this brilliant idea of making a door stop for my bedroom with my old broken leg cast complete with my toes on the end. one essay i began for my fourth grade english class turned into a 12 page novel. i convinced my teacher i was going to submit it for a student literature contest and would turn in the assignment when it was complete; somewhere in a box in the basement it still sits upgraded.

each year for halloween i developed my own costume. of course as all children, i was a witch one year and a clown another. one october, i was decided to transform myself into a snowflake after i read a book the life of one. however, the costume i was the most proud of was the year i was the number 8. that's right, i said the number 8. being that i was 8 years old, i thought it only appropriate. i found a piece of thick foam and cut the top hole to fit my head and the bottom half of the 8 hung around my torso so i could put my hands through it to collect candy. i only wish i had a photo. [thanks to thom and nate, i got to relive this halloween costume last year!]

in addition to creating, i loved to read. i could not get enough of books. i still can't get enough. no baby sitter's club for me, i was addicted to the box car children books and anything roald dalh wrote. the cricket in times square seemed timeless to me and i'm sure i read tales of a fourth grade nothing at least five times. all of those books have passed me now, i vaguely even remember their covers, but there has been one set of books i have held on to. whether it's where the sidewalk ends, falling up, or a light in the attic, i still smile as i pick up my worn copies of shel silverstein's books. i can no longer flip through them to find my favorite words of rhyme for the pages all fall out. the glue has long past expired and the color on the page has begun to age. but they still make me smile. i remember the pictures vividly and how to say the poems so that they flow. i surprised myself as a recite a couple of them from memory, not knowing i still had it in me.

in my garage, i have projects waiting for me to finish. i recently bought a 4'x5' piece of rusticated steel which will soon become the headboard for my bed. at the beginning of the summer, i found an old 1920's chest at an antique store and am now in the process of stripping the cedar within and fitting a new tray for it. this summer i have purchased over ten books which sit neatly stacked next to my bed. i seem to find them much quicker than i can go through them, but in time i will be soak them all up. when i used to play dress up, i would always pick to be 24 in our fantasy world. i think i thought i'd have it all together by then, that i would have made sense of life and could call myself a grown up. i'll be 24 soon, i don't think i could feel further from point; actually, i don't think i'll ever reach it. some things in life we grown out of [clothes, algeries, habits] and sometimes we evolve [interests, abilities, bank accounts]. but i never want to grow-up. i'd like to think i'm just a wiser, taller, more experienced, and just simply older version of my eight-year-old self.

small enough

last weekend was my own personal kick-off weekend. the college and career group at my church planned a retreat at a campsite near lawrence. i have been excited about this weekend away for such a long time. i needed a fresh start, a clean slate. i had such deep community in manhattan that i was starving for it again. i was ready to engage in relationships and be apart of something bigger and more intentional than myself. the weekend gave me a taste of that again. i have a feeling it will be difficult to trust again; but i know the risk is worth it. it is worth more than not engaging. for the first time in awhile, i began to take that risk.

i've had a lot of time to myself the past few months and being around people constantly for three days was a little much. i needed to take time to be alone and away from others. on one of my walks away, i cried out. i feel like i'm trapped, like i'm trying to break out and be free again. but something is holding me in, keeping me from truly letting go and moving on. it's almost like a catepillar ready to break free from the cacoon he wove himself into, just waiting to emerge in all his beauty. i played this season of life's theme song in my ears over and over again...

[small enough. nichole nordeman. not complete lyrics]

all praise and all honor be to the God of ancient mysteries
whose every sign and wonder turn the pages of our history
but tonight my heart is heavy and i cannot keep from
whispering this prayer, "are You there?"

and i know You could leave writing on the wall
thats just for me or send wisdom while i'm sleeping,
like in soloman's sweet dreams
but i don't need the strength of samson or a chariot in the end
just want to know that You still know how many hairs are on my head
oh great God, be small enough to hear me now

as i raised my head and tear stained cheeks, this butterfly flew right in front of me. emergence is soon, it seemed to say. it was exactly what i needed to see.

design 101

today was holly's first day of school. i told her phil had to take a picture of her just as her mom used to do. she is teaching a child development class as well as a fashion/design class. i had been thinking about writing a blog on such a topic but wasn't motivated to do so until she needed one for her first day [remember, geared audience is high school sophmores]

it is everywhere; design is in everything. look around and name one thing that hasn't been created by another. the kleenex's? no, some poor man sat a computer figuring out how to fold those soft pieces of paper so that you pull one after another; i bet you never thought about him before. the grain pattern in the wood of your table? long before it ever came into being as a table, the seasons formed the shape of the grain. the curve of your fingernails are even designed by your own clipping or by the way they've been used in your daily activities. there is absolutely nothing you can touch that hasn't in some way or another been changed or designed by another. you are a designer and you didn't even know it.

not all of this design has been good. i bought an inexpensive, trendy running watch the other day. i loved how it looked on my wrist but could not for the life of me figure out how to reset the time. ever have that problem? we have designed shoes which top the fashion charts but contort our toes to unnatural, painful shapes. vehicles which are better suited for carrying troops around in iraq are now taking kids to soccer practice. good design is responsible design.

some people opt for beauty in design. to them, the color and style of an shirt are more important than the quality of the material or the ease in wash. others may choose a cell phone based on the capabilities it provides, disregarding the number of covers you can get to go with it. however, for something to be designed well, beauty and usability must be in balance. an object that is beautiful to its core is no better or wrose that one that is only pretty if they both lack usability. all the many factors of design must be in harmony and one should find pleasure in use; attractive things really do work better.

regardless of your belief of our origin of existance, everything is in a state of evolution. we are shapped by the experiences around us. when i burned myself as a child on a hot stove, i quickly learned that "red" indicated "hot" and therefore never touched it again. i remember the first computer my dad ever brought home. i slipped in the five inch floppy disk and shrieked in delight at the green words before me. color was no where to be found, much less email or instant messenger; DVDs were only a figment of the imagination. how far we have come.

embark on design not as a quest to reinvent the wheel. good designers do not start from scratch. begin by making something done once better, more responsible, more inspiring.

you are already a designer; now create like one.

inside out

i am literally, sitting in a salon right now, color saturating my foil-covered head. i found this salon down the street from my work and decided to celebrate my new independence. they have this waiting area while your color sets where you can watch tv, read, or get in the internet. brilliant!

this summer has been a difficult one for me; probably the hardest ever. but it has also a turning point for me, or maybe a starting point. the way things happen still don’t make any sense to me at all; but i know i don’t have to understand to believe. i know it’s worth it even if i can't see it now. i know i will look back in awhile and be so thankful things happened the way that they did. i know that God doesn’t promise happy endings, but he does promise he is faithful and our struggles are only momentary.

the inside is beginning to come out. some people celebrate a new, independent season of life by going out to meet someone new, others by buying an outfit or taking a trip. today, i got my haircut. it's a start. i am beginning again, head a little lighter, body slightly smaller, and heart much fuller.




i have a new sister...or i soon will. my brother proposed to his girlfriend of 6 years this week. i'll tell his story since i know he won't :)

they met on the cross country team when she was a sophomore and he was a junior in high school. they dated all through their years at maize and both went and ran at pittsburg state university. most of their relationship has been spent running next to each other; pretty beautiful life analogy.

it only seemed appropiate that eric propose while running one of their countless miles together. on one of their off days from the team practice, eric took her on a run through a wooded area. he had gone ahead and arranged leaves in a heart and wrote "will you marry me?" on the ground. they only went a couple of miles before they stumbled across the secret message. eric unpinned the ring from the inside of his shorts and bent to his knee. it was a moment they will never forget.

to the two of you; may you always challenge each other, encourage each other, and run next to each other. we will continue to cheer you on.