thanksgiving naptime

most everyone else is sleeping. i am sitting on the floor, with my upper body perched appropriately on emily's big cushioned chair. (*yes, she brought it from home. yes, there has been an ongoing joke about hemorrhages. yes, it is only a joke.) i am in front of the fireplace. i want to say that it is crackling, but it's not. it is rather breathy in it's portrayal of existence for the time being. yet, with another dry one added, all will change. i'm eating pumpkin cheesecake. im not sure why consumption is still occurring; however, the new snow upon the crispy leaves that were to be raked up, the aroma that still lingers from the turkey my dad smoked, the packers winning again, and fancy hunter's beer, each, somehow, add to the atmosphere of allowing another nibble of sweet brilliance to pass through my lips. i wasn't sure how we would do it. i wasn't sold on attempting the thanksgiving more traditionally than we have ever done before. even so, this, household can, indeed, put on a glorious thanksgiving production. ...bring your children: we vetoed the centerpiece that looked like reproductive organs, and brought out stuffed black olives with cream cheese- doubled them- and added beaks- they did look like penguins... and they were meant to. ok, i'm reading wind in the willows. not right now, obviously, but goodness-- eggnog and that lovely mole. ha. perfect. envision. after this writing bit. pure indulgence. [[this time around has been quite different. last year, the day was spent purging my closet of anything not made in the usa or china. china attire was seemingly permissible because i would otherwise own no pants. star wars was located and entered into the electronic device. phone conversations were had and shots with an additive of flirtation at a little bar on colfax were to follow. the hours past. i drank a lot. i stood on colfax with a fabulous man who cared about my safety alone. silly thanksgiving of old? maybe. maybe not. i am thankful for a true friendship that looked past my drunken state of vulnerability and chose to care. i am thankful for clothing that was sewn together by careful tedious movements, and attentiveness to concerns facing nations not determent upon their local . i am thankful for life and safety. for opportunities. for meeting new faces and appreciating old faces. for conversations that last beyond the vocal dialog. for fire, when it's crackling and breathing heavy a like. for a voice, and to think of the honor of the responsibility, rather than the responsibility solely.]] eggnog. the wind in the willows. oh, and the fire is now crackling. happy thanksgiving. love and be loved, i dare you.

pack red: it will be hunting season still

last week we had gotten the thanksgiving thing squared away. finally. after awhile dealing with the quickly approaching unknown-ness of the holidays-- my wishing-to-be-in-control-of-situtations self was annoyed, to say the least. cheap southwest tickets were purchased, so after some glorious turbulance, i will meet my dad and amber's kind pitbull in chicago. from dropping the news to each family member that i would probably not be able to make the trek, i somehow have managed to become the daughter who will now be at my parent's the longest. it will be beautiful. it will be ridiculous. we are to meet a man, upon amber's introduction. thus, it seems we are having a traditional feast. *trandition in the kersting residence over thanksgiving consists of frozen pizzas and the starwars trilogy and a bit of the macys at times, oh, and baby pickles! it is from years of this being the norm, that i find it rather hilarious that my dad is smoking a turkey, and my mom and older sister both, keep inquiring about the proposed menu. i love it. wisconsin will be good. family time will be good. meeting the stranger that i keep hearing about will be good. the feast will be good, i am assured. fabulous family times. i wonder what will occur during this gathering period. ***it wasn't so long ago when the family vacation happened in salida, co. raining days, spastic and sane cousins alike, four-wheeling with grandma alongside, starlight skinnydipping, fat chimpmunks needing yet to indulge, crispy sunburns, fly fishing and horseback riding escapades, failed and attained mountian ventures: quite similar to nat'l lampoon's family vacation... just imagian. goodness.
i do anticipate being with these people. a lot. these that i love truly, madly, and deeply. new adventures, one can only wait. yes, im laughing. in the most amatory way.

end all choice.

as a disclaimer alone, i long to be honest with the 'unseen audience' that is currently gathered around their own personalized screen. ((you dear individuals.)) i have dealt with quite a bit of death thus far in my life. not massive amounts, i am far from be a dealing-with-grief-expert. evenso, the dog dying in second grade was seemingly only a warm up session for my young body. i graduated high school with 62 other students. the number could have been higher. nearly every other year a classmate died within my class. my dear friends. then, relatives passed away along the way. then, community members breathed their last. grief started with a pet. i suppose for many of us it does. after high school, my best friend with whom attended both my 1st grade birthday party, and we exchanged waves from across the way two days before i received news of her death over the disbeiving voice on the phone's reciever. she had commited suicide. there are more tales. benjamin, the squirrel we raised for a summer. my crazy, awesome grandpa who used to sit on me when i wouldn't get him the newspaper. the accident in russia, where i wasn't thinking what-so-ever and stood and allowed the camera's flash to illuminate to hurt of another. ms. alice, she pulled my hair, bit me, and encouraged me like little can compare to as she whispered truth treasures hours before her time. more and more stories, and they continue, as the will to live questions us each, everyday... and multiple times a day, if indeed, one is introspective in his day's journey. this week. two youth group kids from home were in an accident. one, hospitalized. one, died. a massive heart, a laughter that draws, a lover of the lover not on this marblized planet any longer. only hours ago, i sat on suicide watch for one no longer waiting to devote to the high and lows and evened-out plains of life. **enough with the disclaimer already. END ALL CHOICE. the hours, the moments. some long to live, some long to not. driving choices. driving potential. some are drenched in seemingly tourture and immense pain alone. some are tangled. some hurt. some are dizzied by freedom and overwhelmed by oppurtunity. some are direction-less. some are hopeful. some are hopeless. some are stangers within families. some make families of strangers. the messiness of this world. the changing of my emotions and my intake of situations, the changing tides of your own. some are faithful. some faithless. some, somewhere inbetween, an everchaging variable. ceasing. i long for my eyes to be opened, for my heart to be increasingly tenderized, for weeping; pain induced and joy evoked. i wish for peace and stillness in the choas. with a raging scream for only great love to sweep the moments of awakeness. for my very self, and your very core. may the marrow in our bones yearn only for ligaments and vessel veins and flesh that is coated in raw love. whatever that may look like.

this.

THE HIGH CALLING OF GOD
1. If God has called you to be really like Jesus in all your spirit, He will draw you into a life of crucifixion and humility. He will put on you such demands of obedience that He will not allow you to follow other Christians, and in many ways He will seem to let other good people do things which He will not let you do.
2. Other Christians and ministers who seem very religious and useful may push themselves, pull wires and work schemes to carry out their plans, but you cannot do it. If you attempt it, you will meet with such failure and rebuke from the Lord as to make you sorely penitent.
3. Others can brag about themselves, their work, their success, or their writings, but the Holy Spirit will not allow you to do any such thing. If you begin it, He will lead you into such deep mortification that will make you despise yourself and all your good works.
4. Others will be allowed to succeed in making great sums of money or having a legacy left to them or in having luxuries. But God may supply you daily because He wants you to have something far better than gold and that is a helpless dependence on Him, that He may have the privilege of providing your needs day by day out of the unseen treasury.
5. The Lord may let others be honoured and put forward but keep you hidden away in obscurity because He wants to produce some choice, fragrant fruit for His coming glory, which can only be produced in the shade.
6. God will let others be great, but keep you small. He will let others do a work for Him and get the credit for it, but He will make you work and toil on without knowing how much you are doing. Then to make your work still more precious, He will let others get the credit for the work which you have done, and this will make your reward ten times greater when Jesus comes.
7. The Holy Spirit will put a strict watch on you, with a jealous love, and will rebuke you for little words and feelings or for wasting your time, which other Christians never seem distressed over.
8. So make up your mind that God is an infinite Sovereign, and has a right to do as He pleases with His own. He will not explain to you a thousand things which may puzzle your reason in His dealings with you. God will take you at your word; and if you absolutely will yourself to be His slave, He will wrap you up in a jealous love and let other people say and do many things that you cannot do or say. Settle it forever, that you are to deal directly with the Holy Spirit. Also that He is to have the privilege of tying your tongue or chaining your hand or closing your eyes, in ways that others are not dealt with.
9. Now when you are so possessed with the loving God that you are, in your secret heart, pleased and delighted over this peculiar personal, private, jealous guardianship and management of the Holy Spirit over your life, you will have found the vestibule of heaven.
(Source Unknown)

pausing to wave

it is now november. the mountians still attempt to beckon me, and i stop in wonderment from something, many things, deemed beautiful. the months and days continue to pass by as sure as the moments on the digital time tellers fail to grasp a minute, longer than a minute.

i took a barefoot walk the other day; where the ground was cold except for those sun spots on the sidewalk. calloused toes have passed with the summer activities, and the seeming sharp edges of the crispy leaves dug into my suple flesh... yes! i long to only do it again. perhaps, this very day-- i will again meandor through the fallen leaves, emersing myself into the churning seasons, as i wish for those tough summer toes once more. tough and tan... not today, although they will reek of scents that may enable you to envision a delightful classic with pages full of dated aroma read by one on a grand leather chair, with velvet wine in hand and the sparks of the fire dancing to the pattering of the rain. fall turning into winter. my feet, given a chance will attest, to the present season.

take care. consider a barefoot staunter. or just eat some soup. welcome to november.