I won’t even attempt original blogs, but these are edited excerpts from letters to Terry and they will have to do in this trip!

Friday night:

I had a nice birthday but it didn’t feel much like a birthday most of the day—which for ME is good! I had a terrible time getting to the airport. From the time I left even, I was having a war to get out of town—I lost my debit card and needed it to get cash to go and then I went to the bank and back home—back and forth—searching—the coming up with a back up plan in came I HAD lost it. It was frustrating but I really did not let it get to me. I was too annoyed at the devil and just prayed. Then I found it—after a long time and a lot of effort. So I went to the bank, then I had to buy something to get ones for tipping. Meanwhile I took the wrong exit off the 110—I am never looking when you take me to the airport—I went one too early—but I figured I would follow the surface street. I easily found my way to the 405 to get to my parking lot where I had booked a reservation—and prepaid a day. So I saw my exit off the 405 but construction kept me from getting to it. I turned down La Cienega but it twists right there and I ended up in Culver City!

I finally found my way to the parking area, so thankful I had left so early! It was full. I drove up SEVEN parking levels despite the full sign because I had “guaranteed” my reservation. Eventually I found a person and basically said, "find me a place; I already paid and I have a flight to catch." And the guy was nice and moved a valet car for me but even that involved some chaos. So then I got my shuttle to LAX and did curbside check in—then the TSA was SO SLOW I could not believe it. I think they were playing up the shortage because it was crazy! But I got through and then the lines went quickly. But I seriously thought I was going to miss my plane for a while there. In the midst of it I was worrying about what would do. I finally told myself to calm down—if I missed it I would get on the next one and something would work out. And I made myself stay focused in the right place—back on God. I am still having some intense times with Him and wasn’t ready to sacrifice whatever is happening spiritually for that frustration. But boy was I happy to sit down on my plane! The flight was uneventful—2 ½ hours seems short after the six hour flights earlier this month! I woke up extra early again but not at 4:15! I keep waking up, thinking of God and exploding into prayer. How I wish this could last forever!

Anyway we arrived on time to Dallas and I was happy to see the old stomping ground but I did not cry with joy like last time. I do love Texas but like I said, I can stay in LA. I have peace either place. You really pinpointed it last night with the comment that I had a peace that passed understanding. It was so NATURAL to me that I did not think of it as supernatural—which I guess is what makes it so much more so!

Anyway, Karen met me at the airport and we had a GREAT time. We went to my hotel first to check in. It is a nice place—for next to nothing. Very formal and elegant, right in the heart of North Dallas. Then we went clothes shopping but I couldn’t find anything for sure. I found one thing that was gorgeous but more than wanted to spend, so I looked in a few places with her and decided I would think about it and come back. Then we went to one of my favorite Italian places and Karen took me to dinner for my birthday—and had a lovely card—it was great. We had a wonderful time together,. Then she took me to get my rental car. Obviously I have never rented a car here before because this is home. It was so neat—they have a huge rental car center with its own lobby and snack kiosks, like a terminal—so tomorrow I will turn in this car and walk across the lobby to the other counter. Dallas has to be one of the asst and best cities to fly into and stay. It is easy and affordable—so that part is nice!

Anyway I got my car and came back here to the hotel—after driving down the street to the mini market that has 44 ounce Diet Cokes in foam cups. I am down the street from the hotel I usually stay in when I come to Dallas so I know the neighborhood—except where Einstein Brothers Bagels is; that is what I want for breakfast.

So those are the facts—now here is the HEART. I had a neat image late last night as I prayed. I had mentioned previously that what I feel like is that God has this big canvas and He is free to paint it how He wants. So I was talking about that as I prayed and I said it was going to be interesting to see which background it has—Mountains? Piney woods of East Texas? Gulf of Mexico? But then I realized something else: no matter what the background the person in the painting will look the same. And it was a visual of my epiphany. I am the same person no matter where I am—if I can surrender to God and His ways. I should not change no mater where I go.

That seemed to spark some more of my thoughts today on the plane and drive. I was thinking about what Terry said about how I had opened myself up to prayer. The way she said it was not how I saw it—but I realized she was right because once I opened myself to praying with you that opened me up to God and it became both about people AND about Him—I was seeing more the people side, but who have I been chasing for over a week? HIM. And then I thought about what I previously blogged about regarding Terry’s attitude toward prayer. I agree with that attitude. I SHARE that attitude. So I started wondering of that meant I should LIVE with that attitude… that is a tough one and the current challenge I am facing. I talked to the Lord about this today. If that is how I feel and if prayer is so important to me, then shouldn’t I do something about it? I even likened it to how I approach holidays. I hate holidays so I got proactive. Before people can reject ME, I formulate a plan—I travel or arrange something so that I am not left alone. I was controlled one too many times by the pain of holidays so I took control. It has helped.

So I started thinking—can I commit to being an aggressive proactive pray-er? Do I have the dedication in me to be ready in season and out (or even the capability) and do the same thing that I believe in so much and be the one who says “let’s pray—let’s thank God” etc.? Can I do it? It is a serious question I asked myself and God. It almost seems like I am a victim of my own desires. This is the absolute most life changing thing in my Christian life and redemption and yet I only have it when I wait around for other to bring it. That suddenly seemed more dangerous than being alone on Christmas.

Anyway, I have not absolutely answered that yet, but I think I already know deep down. And I put it right into practice with Karen. It felt so good and right when we got my car I walked back out to hers to get my stuff and she was opening my door and handing it to me and I said, without missing a beat, “Wait,. Lets’ get in and pray a bit first.” Easy. No fear. And it was the perfect way to end—leave it all with God.

Other Christians are willing to. You don’t usually have to ask twice. But the thing I guess is so hard is 1) I am sometimes uncomfortable praying because I get out of “public” practice even if I pray well privately And 2) because it is so tender and special to me, rejection in prayer is about as much as you can get to me. To avoid rejection in anything the answer is to not seek out what you fear rejection FROM.

I am at a point right now where I don’t even have to force myself. Right now it is so EASY because it is all that is in me. I sat on the plane and turned my Walkman on—an old Hillsongs tape, but in a minute I was whispering right there, praying because I can’t contain it when I am this way. Then I was sitting there reading my little Bible. That is all I want—God God God. I got it BAD right now—and want it to stay that way! But all this has me thinking more about prayer and asking that question—if I believe SO much why am I not acting more? I mean I want to start about three prayer groups and join about three others. No kidding. I will go out to pray when I will stay in because I am too tried to visit even. And I am trying desperately to keep myself open.

I told Karen I didn’t know where I was going either and how God had turned everything around and I could even stay in LA and didn’t hate it anymore. She didn’t know how bad it got. But now that I am out of that I can start to share how bad it was. When I say it is a MIRACLE how I feel about my life now and where I am going to be and everything else, that is no exaggeration. It is a MIRACLE that I could live in LA and be happy. It is a true work of the Lord that could not have been done by any human. It is supernatural and beyond any reasonable explanation. I think you see that—Robin will. Most people will have no clue. I admitted to hating it but I covered the extent of how much to most people. But I am starting to love again. Believe it or not if I stayed I would move right in to the Valley—maybe even in North Hollywood itself—I was too far removed. Yeah, this is a miracle and I know it—maybe a bit more every day. And today I found myself saying something I have not said in a long time” I like my life—I am happy.” I really am.

My greatest interest NOW is in cultivating what is in me—in doing what is necessary to keep that spiritual growth happening, to stay connected with other believers, to continue in the way I have been given grace to walk in again and not slip and feel rejected.

And I will ask myself again if believe this prayer things as much as I do—isn’t it time to take action? Do I dare? Am I to scared of rejection? But if it is my heart—how am I hurting myself if I DON’T live in it. Is there power there and does it work in reverse? A lot of questions.

Who knew one simple prayer in the middle of a night of packing could snowball into what it has? I find that more amazing than almost anything!

I just want to be with God—wherever I am—in as many ways as possible;. There is a new facet to Him in each unique way I approach Him it seems. I love that. And I want more. I want to explode the Word into my life!

Saturday morning:

I went out this morning and got my favorite bagel with cream cheese. I also bought a baggy pair of jeans. I wanted loose jeans but I hate buying things too big because then I feel even fatter than I am! But there is a Wal Mart right next to the hotel and they were $10. But you know the funniest thing of ALL about the jeans I bought? THEY ARE WRANGLERS! I swore I would never wear a pair. Now don’t panic—they do not have that gross W on the butt—in fact there is no sign that they are any name at all—They are totally plain—but really loose in the legs and butt—jeans I can dance in! But isn’t that FUNNY!

So I did all that and then drove to the airport for a new rental car. Want to know what is hysterical? Of all the cars in the world to rent when I got to the new counter they gave me—in a different company—the EXACT same car down to the color, model and interior. It was hysterical. I had just gotten used to the first car—and I brought my CD with my new dance song on it that affects me so much and was hoping I would have a CD player—so I got used to one and went to the other! It was too funny! I do love it here. If I have to be in a big city, Dallas is it. It is just plain NICE—spread out, neat, pretty and friendly. It is a very large city but you don’t drown. But none of my current options include Dallas anyway, so this is a visiting place.

Saturday night:

Robin just left the hotel on her way back to Quitman. WOW! What a time we had. I believe God already did something. I was finally able to express all the awful icky stuff that was so powerful in me and we didn’t talk much about it but just prayed—I mean, PRAYED! I was completely open to her and the Holy Spirit—there was no resistance in me and the power in this room was awesome. She said a couple things that really gave me some insight. The other night when Terry and I were talking and I said I was not sure how I could have gone a different way because it felt like it had just happened as it did and I was not sure WHAT I did that crossed the line? Well, I know for sure now I know and the fact is, the way I was going I had it doomed from the start. I have learned an even greater lesson than I thought.

For my birthday, Robin gave me a beautiful delicate bracelet with tiny hearts all around it “to remind you of how much I love you,” she said. I got two pieces of delicate jewelry for my birthday. Wow! And both are so meaningful now with God and what He is doing. I have a lot of individual praying to do now. I will have some time before bed tonight and tomorrow since I will not be in a church. I feel bad about that but it is hard to do the church and the wedding unless I go to some place here and run in and worship and then out, you know. I would have to say that any church service tomorrow would pale in comparison to tonight—I think I will let God just gel it some more before I check out and get in my whirlwind of the next couple days.

I have been praying like crazy all night. I even had to say the meal prayer! Then when it was about to get serious and I was trying to share and struggling I suggested we pray before we began and I had to do that—I mean, you would think I have nothing left today, but instead I could probably pray for people all night.

It was refreshing to have someone lay hands on me—I love that power even though I don’t totally understand it—and, believe it or not , I do not reach out for ministry often even when I need it and when I do it is usually very mild and I probably seem unapproachable. But sometimes when I know that it is serious and intense I want that but harder than offering to pray for people is ASKING for prayer—especially for something as serious as laying on of hands. I am SO sensitive to touch that I imagine that means it will also work in a reverse way and really affect me when it is straight from the Holy Spirit. And I did sense a breaking. Still more processing to do, but there is a definite forward move.

One very good thing is that I have had such opportunities spiritually to really milk this latest breakthrough and let it grow—that makes it more solid. I believe I am in a time of grace and waiting. though , and I will grow. I am still probably a week away at LEAST from knowing where I am headed. I am not kidding when I say that I wish I could hang out longer in limbo—it is nice to be so free!

Anyway, if I went home tomorrow this weekend would be worth penny and hassle for this one day. I praise God for His incredible mercy and faithfulness. I know that everything is about to change again. I truly have no real clue what is next—only a myriad of possibilities. And the phone could ring Monday with new possibilities I did not envision. You know what I think? I think when I hear it I will know it. This has never happened to me before. But I think I will know when I need to know—the time will come and I will know and it will be EASY. I don’t mean without problems, but it will be easy. It will be God.

Guess what? I don’t think I was stupid to come to LA anymore. A counselor at work that I have actually confided in about my job frustrations told me she admired me for coming out here and trying. She said she had to “be dragged kicking and screaming” but she admires that I tried. That amazed me—and encouraged me. I did try. I didn’t do it well. I failed and I could have done better because now I see why I failed so badly and if I had handled it different it would have been different—it was my own sin. I still can’t answer if I did or didn’t miss God. I am not sure it was an issue. I am not sure that it would have been wrong to stay or to go—in some ways I think STAYING would have been worse. Tyler was a place to grow and heal but I am not sure it was my forever place but it might have been easy to make it that way. What I have learned in LA is a lifetime lesson. Wherever I use that I will be better for it.

So the you have it—more work from a faithful God and hope for whatever the future brings. And all the things I saw as traumatizing I now see as hopeful. The very things that seemed like they might take months and years to recover from, some of them are gone already and others are fading quickly. If I leave LA in a month I will leave better than I arrived. I already am, but by then it will all be taken care of –healed, repented of and confessed. Suddenly all my dumb pride I CLUNG to when I got here is so irrelevant—I WANT To break it down and confess the ugly truth because it HEALS. I love healing. I love the word. I love the hope.

One day I may dance in white again.

Well, now the work begins. Although I am a wedding guest I have a lot of work to do as far as driving and helping wherever they need it. They won’t have that many people who are not involved in it that can assist so I am on standby, and so is my car! Then Monday I go to the college for that interview—it will be an hour of several people asking me tough questions I expect to do well even if I am not as qualified for the job. I don’t necessarily have to get hired, But I want to leave them impressed with me even if I am not the ideal candidate—one day I would like to do that full time and if I do well this time they WILL remember. This is the job I am not even sure I want because spiritually it is the one that leaves me not even sure where I would find a church.

I am very drawn to the church in Houston and the whole dance ministry and yet even though that is the “sure thing” job, it seems more unlikely at times. But I am playing guessing games. I would not be upset to see something open up in Dallas. It is such a nice city—it has everything to offer but fewer of the big city issues. So much hope—in every direction so much hope.

And tonight was so easy and so free. And no walls to support while trying to support myself. What immense freedom.

But that makes sense.

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

The best Thanksgiving ever. I had a grand time. It is 9:30 p.m. now and I just got home. The festivities continue at the Bruce’s but I can barely stay awake. My day began early, but was worth every second.

I woke up at 4:15 a.m. and could not sleep. I was excited. Then I had that desire to pray I occasionally (far TOO occasionally) get in the middle of the night. So I lay there praying in the Spirit. I finally gave in and got up. I got conscious and then decided to dance to my song. It is a ten minute track but the song itself, after about 5 or 6 minutes, turns into more of a free worship time with the lyrics. I danced those first few minutes and then I spent that and the next song on my face before God. And the things that came out were powerful—believe it or not too personal for my blog, even—though I shared them with a beaming Terry tonight and will, I imagine, with Robin Saturday

I loaded up a couple boxes to store at Terry’s, got my clothes and cooking supplies and a big Diet Coke (in a foam cup!) and headed for Terry’s. I arrived at about 7:40 and the day was a whirlwind from there. We enjoyed cooking. I made a lot of stuff and we gabbed—or I gabbed and she listened. Darrell teased me that he could have had two more hours of sleep if SOMEONE wasn’t talking outside his room. Ha! I said he was just cranky because I talked to him when football was on. But it was all in good fun, of course. Pastor Darrell is one of my personal heroes—even if he is glued to football.

A few people arrived—I was curious to note that Terry’s friends were people I really liked. No joke I thought I was sitting around the table with women from Texas. But then Terry is not the typical Angelino.

The turkey was textbook; the dressing delicious. But the real hit of the day was the mashed, er, uh… dripping potatoes. Terry overcooked them while she was finishing her hair (I got a lovely picture of that to circulate soon online!). Then they were a STRANGE consistency. So then I got involved and tried to doctor them up. I added milk and sour cream a lot of butter to change the consistency. It worked but got then even softer than they already were, but at least we recovered the taste. So the end result was very mashed potatoes (no straws, PD!) that people actually had second on. It became the joke of the day… some potatoes with that?

The we all hung out and talked. I was drifting off a bit by the afternoon’s end. Then I searched for the missing coat! It happened when I was looking at the sale ads. I need a dress for the wedding after discovering it was more formal than I imagined! I saw ads for coats and one looked familiar. Then I remembered the coat I had last year. The brown one I got for a steal at Beall’s and took to PA. At first I thought maybe I only THOUGHT I bought it. I was truly baffled. Then I remembered the deal I got—I DID buy that coat. Okay, where WAS it?! I had not seen it in months—and just now missed it! So I checked the BIG box I had—it was a clothes box of older stuff I had ever even unpacked that I am leaving. I looked through the whole thing. No coat, but I did find something else. The cheerleading outfit I used at Quitman for that spirit day. What did I do? I put it on over my t-shirt and windpants. Terry’s friend laughed so hard, even DJ looked shocked when he walked in the room and I cheered “Go, DJ!!!!” while making stupid cheering motions. Darrell looked like I had fallen off my rocker. But the funniest part of all was when Sandy was leaving and Darrell and Terry were outside with her. I found her pictures she had left and tried to catch her. “Are these yours?” I called from the front step. They were, and so I ran to give them to her—down the street in a cheerleading outfit, And Darrell about died! “NO!” he said “go back in the house.” So of course I milked it. “But PASTOR!!!” I yelled. He RAN! He literally RAN DOWN THE STREET AWAY FROM ME. And I am in my cheerleading costume chasing him, yelling, “But PASTOR, I need COUNSELING.” It was so funny that I cannot write this without laughing hysterically. Terry just shook her head at her kids there. Inside I had to stop cheering until President Bush’s speech was over with. Then Darrell said I could cheer. I asked if his reaction meant he would not take a picture with me in my costume. I was mostly joking. I didn’t think for a SECOND he would, but he said “if I must.” So DJ took a picture of me with both of them—I was in my cheerleading outfit.” I sat there eon the couch by Darrell’s chair having this totally deep conversation about guys and dating—in my outfit. It was so incongruous. I said it was scary—from depressed to THIS. But he said he just wanted me to be who I was. Ta da! The free spirit returns.

Thank God.

I never found the jacket and still have no clue what happened to it!

After the last person left, Terry said they had a present for me for my birthday. It was two parts. On top was a pair of white satin ballet slippers with pink roses—like the pin ones hanging from my windshield—she found me new ones after all these years! That in itself would have been enough, but there was a jewelry box in the bag. In it was a beautiful gold cross. It is reversible—one side is all gold and the other is silver and gold. It is delicate and stunning. I could have easily bawled. She put it on me. “This is to remember’” she said even before she knew the rest of the story. Always kindness. Always love.

She went to pack—and I had told her I had something to tell her that would shock her. But it didn’t because she knew in her spirit when I said that. She was about ready to go and she told me to come talk to her first so she could hear it. So we went to her room so she could finish. I told her the whole inner story of all that is going on. Suddenly that cross she gave me became more special. As we said goodbye late in the garage, both of us saw that cross had become a symbol of this chapter and what has happened recently.

“Do you realize how huge this is?” she asked me. I think I know it is a big deal, but even as she talked, I think that I saw more by what she said. So we talked quite a while—Darrell gave up on a 6 p.m. departure and talked to DJ. Then he came in to say he had to pick some stuff up at the church, but Terry said she was ready. But then there was another delay and he had to do something so she grabbed me and said “let’s go pray a bit before he does that.” I joked “what makes you think I would want o pray?” “We need to,” she said—her attitude like always being that when you spend time and conversation centered around God you need to thank Him for it and not go off and NOT talk to Him. I love that attitude. So we went in the computer bedroom and didn’t have much time—so I said “Let me start then” and I did. No hesitation, no fear—not with a full heart. It was awesome. I mean it really was. When you do share conversation like that that is so God—it really DOES seem almost RUDE to end it and not address the One on whom it was centered. I mean, it really does when I look at her viewpoint. I am going to make a better effort to do that. So we prayed, hugged a million more times and said goodbye. Both of us return from our trips on Tuesday. By then I could have some answers. Who knows. I think I did give Terry a bit of a surprise by something very concrete I told her in one area, but it was all a good surprise. I may not be 100 percent back in a couple ways, but there is life in me like nothing I can express.

So then I went to Pastor Dan and Cindy’s—mostly to deliver the three leftover pies! With all of us going out of town no one could take them. I visited there a while—I was pretty tired by the end so I bowed out after les than two hours. They walked me to the door as I left. Pastor Dan was saying how sometimes Cindy had given him email updates from me—“especially if you were having a crisis so I could pray.” And I looked at them both and said “there are no more crises. God has done something and I am okay. Totally okay. I don’t know what is happening but there is no more crisis about it and I don’t need prayer in that way.” Cindy seemed very happy—she saw a lot of the ugliness too as I expressed my displeasure. I will share more with her later.

I drove home very sleepy but alive. I am leaving in the morning—I am not packed; I have not even done lesson plans for Monday. Tomorrow I will wake up and be 34, and I am actually entering it in a better state than I began age 33. That is a MIRACLE. I have not even blogged some of the things here that would tell that. I shared some with Terry tonight—no one knew how bad I felt, how low I got. I never was tempted to leave God. It wasn’t ever a matter of losing the basic faith of salvation—and that is nice to know that at least in the lowest point there was that was not in question. But there was more ugliness than I knew inside me. But this Thanksgiving was one of true thanksgiving. The last week has been a miracle in the hand of the Lord.

It really is an amazing thing. I don’t know where I am going—I have no idea where I will be living in just over a month. And it is exciting. I feel like a canvas God is about to paint but I can’t tell you what colors are on His palette. This is SO unlike me—Miss Control, Miss I-Want-to-Know. I had an epiphany as I drove to Terry’s this morning that I think will become an article or testimony or something—it is a slang phrase and sums it all up. So amazing that I could be so unsure and yet so happy. Terry said it first, and the Cindy said the very same thing later when I told her how I was okay. Sometimes the most profound things are the most simple—yes, Terry, yes, Cindy—I guess that is it—even I did not see it as that because it was so easy and so natural:

The peace that passes all understanding.

Three cheers for God! Go, God!!!!

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I have not been this excited in years and years. I can’t wait. Tomorrow I am the cook. I had no idea Terry hated cooking—I just thought she was too busy to cook. She is thrilled and totally unstressed since I am coming to help, and that means I get free reign in the kitchen. Last night when I talked to her I asked her what she was doing about bread. She said she figured she would buy some rolls. I asked her if she meant those gross grocery store rolls. She did. So I said if she didn’t mind I would like to bake bread from scratch. Although we were on the phone I think I saw the look of disgust! It is hysterical! So I get to cook a large part of a huge Thanksgiving dinner and enjoy as a bunch of people eat it. I totally cannot wait,. My car and apartment are filled with flour and yeast and pumpkin and spinach. I have recipes galore and will get up earlier tomorrow than in a work day. Before most people get up, Terry and I will be in the kitchen. She is my assistant—she and I both love that idea.

All lightheartedness side, I am sure that the fact that I am so wanted is helping me love this holiday. I don’t think ever in my entire LIFE have I been wanted on a major holiday. I have been INVITED. I have been TOLERATED. I have even been ACCEPTED. But I have never been WANTED. I was beaming through the grocery store. Every ingredient I bought meant I would be a part of making Thanksgiving better. I am so excited. I probably won’t be able to sleep late anyway, just like a kid excited about Christmas. I wish it were always Thanksgiving. I really think I will fly out next year—just for the day—just to be wanted. I cannot tell you what that does in my heart. No one could understand unless you haven’t been for most of your life. Major wow!

Darrell replied to an email I sent to his home address today. I jokingly called it “Your Long Awaited Letter” and the wrote a short hello and that was it. He joked back that he saw that and thought he “was going to have to get another cup of coffee and sit there awhile.”

I told him that is why love him—because he WOULD get another cup of coffee and sit there awhile.

I still have no clue what my future holds. Tomorrow is my most thankful Thanksgiving. Friday is my 34th birthday. Saturday I will send the day with Robin and have a wonderful time—and I expect a very spiritual and productive time. Sunday I am thinking of trying to go to church in Tyler. Honestly I just cannot imagine NOT being in church this weekend, but I don’t know if I can make it as far as timing—maybe I can find another place to go for worship at least. Then there is the wedding Sunday evening which will run late. Monday is my interview. Tuesday I fly home. But I don’t really know anything else.

School is better. It helps that I can see the end of the road—but now that I am doing so much better, I am more fun and the kids and I are having a better time. I still hate CA teaching procedures and can’t imagine teaching in a secondary school in CA. If I were to ever live here and work it would have to be in a college or private school or something. But at least the last few weeks will be nice. I felt terrible today when I was telling the kids they needed to have their portfolios in order and stuff (great thing to do on a dead day before holiday). I said one reason would be if they were to have to switch classes at semester then their portfolio would follow them. One of my favorites, Sara, said “I don’t want to be in another class.” UGH! There are not that many who will be really upset I am leaving but it will still be hard for the few who are. Sara, Adena, Armine, Araksya, even Danny. Sweet Artin, Omar, and some others in 5th and 6th period might too. That will be a bit hard. My educational assistant—an older Hispanic lady, is very sad I am leaving. She has been in the district over 20 years. She told me that she told her husband I am her favorite. She said that I am “different” than the other teachers and that God shines through me and “He has used you.” I was very touched. Again I say it is an amazing thing that I thought I was spiritually USELESS and yet you can see it in someone I guess. I don’t know because I just live my life and don’t think I do it exceptionally well much of the time. But I hear this all the time—about being happy and stuff. Sunday Terry was saying something nice to me and she could tell that the thing she was saying I didn’t believe. I WANT to believe it, but I have no concept. I am not used to being well liked or wanted or any of those things and so I can’t just easily accept that. It is a weird phenomena.

Anyway, I had a heck of a trip to the grocery store. Adding to the hassle was that I had to get to the post office to mail something in today’s mail. I left my checkbook at home (I didn't realize it—it was stuck inside my tambourine from Sunday!) so I could not go right to the store after work as planned. I called Terry on my way home to see if she had some ingredients and then set out for my local Ralph’s—this time at 4 p.m. But like last night at 6, there was not a free space in the whole parking lot. So I gave up—that tells you what it is like inside! I circled the huge block, down Colorado Blvd, to Fair Oaks and to my local Vons by the PO—then realized I had forgotten the third page of my form and had to come home and get it and go back again! Then I had to find parking—this is a whole SHOPPING CENTER and it had no spaces either. The strikers are still out picketing, but no one cares because we need to eat—and then the Teamsters announced they would stop making deliveries so people are rushing to buy what they can, I suppose. It is insane! Finally I found a space, mailed my letter and walked over to the grocery store. That took a long time but was not too crowded considering the parking lot. In fact, check out was fine. I decided that I was okay as long as they actually HAD everything I needed—they did.

At first I was unhappy there was not church tonight but now I realize I would have gone nuts—though I would have still attended. I am doing the second load of laundry now. I have to pack for Friday and book my parking as well. I am waiting, hoping my paycheck will post early because of the holiday. I have to organize everything. I realized I have nothing appropriate to wear to the very formal wedding. I have no time to shop. I mean I am just unprepared right now. Then I have to do lesson plans for Monday and Tuesday. GASP! My apartment is a mass of boxes. When I return I will have less than a week to move. I will go to Belma’s guesthouse but then who knows? I am scheduled to be at Robin’s—but where will I really end up?

I guess Clear Lake is still an option—I will know after Thanksgiving if it is full time. I have made a solid connection with the church down there. I have been in touch with the dance leader (one of them who works with one part of the group). This s the teams that uses Shachah stuff and is so excited I am part of that ministry, too. So I know that could be good—I love everything I hear so far.

I cancelled my interview in Marshall and the human resources person wrote me back asking to still interview me whenever possible because she was very interested in me with my “years of experience and master’s in English.” I wrote back and told her I would try to contact her when I was in the area (never burn a bridge) and she said that was great and she was looking forward to hearing from me. That sounds like a pretty sure thing too. I mailed another thing off this morning before work—a very surprising application—a highly unlikely one, but still rather surprising. But I still know ZILCH. And I still love it.

I brought the CD out of my car that I can’t stop listening to. It has been days with no break. Saturday on my way back from San Diego I put the song on “repeat” and have not taken it off! I decided it is finally time to try that dance I have been seeing in my head—I will do that in the morning.

Tomorrow is truly a day of Thanksgiving.

I don’t know that I have ever been so high when I was so unsure of my life! I have been high—I have felt the power of God as I am feeling it now, but it seems so weird to be in a place of complete uncertainty about my life. Wow! And I had a fear this morning as I was getting my Diet Coke—in a foam cup—I feared that once I got wherever I was going I would fall from the reality as I did here—of course I am operating in enough power right now that I could rebuke that fear and pray, but it still lingers. You don’t vanish 3 ½ months of depression in a minute… so I guess some work has to be done, but the difference is that it CAN be…

I AM so happy I could burst. I am gushing and oozing and I don’t even know what to DO with it. In fact I prayed this morning that God would give me some outlet beyond myself for this—right now I am WIDE open. I mean I would be receptive to ANYTHING the Lord said or did.

This is a place I have been before. It is HARD for me to get here. Very. My trust level is so low even with those I DO trust. So what happens is that I get really open and before anything lasting happens most of the time, I close right up.

So I am asking God to do something now that will solidify what He is doing that might keep me open. EVERY time this happens I PRAY I can stay open-- I don’t mean always happy and perfect and high but OPEN so God can move, but I can’t hold on to it because I also have to hold on to protecting myself.

When I visited in March and all this stuff happened this is how I was. That is why everyone thought I fell in love when I got back. I thought it was enough to sustain me.

This morning I was reading the Word and I was tired and since I read the Psalms every day it was not even getting into me, so I made myself read aloud. Oh my goodness. It was amazing what happened—I mean I FELT the power of God so strongly and the I was reading more and kept reading other Psalms and would go from reading to praying in the Spirit to reading—it was amazing—truly an awesome God experience.

I think in some ways it is EASIER now to be this way NOT knowing my future—it is like I get a God time without worry but I want something to happen in this time that will last in the new job—wherever that may be.

Right now it is hard to be at work—not because I hate it but because I know what is IN me and I want to do something with it. I want a sick person to lay hands on or I want to minister to someone or somehow USE what is in me instead of sit here and do nothing—I KNOW there is a lot in me spiritually—

Anyway, just some more thoughts from my bursting spiritual life right now… I want to be at a prayer meeting right now—seriously. I just HATE having so much in me ALONE. I want to share it—to know that power beyond just me and God. I just want God. I do. In fact I think my 3 ½ month pit makes it more clear as I rise. Being without that presence is the most awful place and want to stay in it whatever that means…

The difference between me and someone like Terry, Robin or anyone I admire, but tease about being a sap, is that in many ways I share their hearts, but I can’t sustain it because I don’t have enough safety to protect it. BUT notice my best friends I this world are gushers and saps? That is me inside.

I want so badly a chance to live as I am, as God created me to be—to be free emotionally in the right way and spiritually in a way that I know is in me. Someday I want to love and not worry that I have to protect my own heart in the process. We all need human love but all my is secondary. I have never known how to reconcile that.

Everyone tells me to get married—that is my only way to get what I want. Now what I WANT is spiritual commitment more than physical love so I don’t know, but the thing is I am WILLING to get married but have not met anyone yet who was even CLOSE to being that. Honestly many people my age who are single are usually a mess—I want a spiritual LEADER. I am strong and I need someone stronger. I want a pray-er, a worshipper—a man who doesn’t compromise—who doesn’t think “mild” swear words are okay “in our culture”. No Cultural Christians need apply! I am not concerned with jobs or looks or money—I want a man of God and if I can’t have one—isn’t it BETTER to be alone? So I don’t know—People have opinions about everything. I want to live in the power of God, free and one—I don’t care how that happens. God is God, not me. We can all see that if it were up to me I would mess it up.

I want Him—and I want to hold on and be free—is it possible on this earth?

I can still dance! That probably sounds stupid, but I was sitting here at the computer—still in my conference period—and a song came on a and I just suddenly wanted to dance. I turned up the volume and danced freer than I have in MONTHS. I flew around the room—God lighting my every step—it was incredible how I felt—I was thinking as I danced how AWESOME it felt and how awesome it was that I was doing this—and that I could still dance.

Almost like I never missed a beat.

This morning as I prayed something made sense. This is the first time in close to a year that I have not sat there desperate to be somewhere. I know that will sound crazy to people who have read this blog or talked to me, but the fact is, I could be in Minnesota or Manhattan in a month and it hardly makes a difference.

I guess I got all the desperation out of me.

I look at the possibilities I currently see—and who knows if there are more unseen. Every single one of them could be okay. In fact it is a half-full/half-empty scenario because with every one will come sadness at the one that wasn’t, so I will have to look at what is. I mean, let’s look at some possibilities—the college job is a teacher’s dream in a beautiful, peaceful area. The Houston job is the best boss ever and chance for advancement at work, as well as a church that uses and loves Shachah and already is welcoming me. These are just two examples. In other words, in every scenario I see (there are more), I get something wonderful out of it. And that something wonderful is a sure thing—something I already know, at least partly.

Maybe that fact makes it easier to say I don’t care much where I am, but I am serious when I say if someone in Michigan called me tomorrow about a job I would at least listen to him or her (No, I have NO applications out in Michigan!). I guess what I realized as I prayed—and enjoyed every blooming second of it, I might add—is that I have no demands left. Praise God. His will is my desire and there is no gunk to mess it up. Since March of last year all I wanted was to be here. I saw NOTHING but North Hollywood in my head. Then I hated that so much that I wanted nothing to do with it. But now I love it in the midst of hating it, so it is not so black and white (Whoa! Major revelation to something Terry and I talked about Sunday!!!!). For a while, after that, all I could see was Texas. But then the image I saw didn’t work out, so the bottom line now is that there are several possibilities and none is a nightmare anymore.

It is the funniest thing in the world… I have no home after Dec. 15; I have no job after Dec. 19. I won’t even have furniture anymore! But I feel more free and less anxious than I have in almost a year.

That is not a bad place to be at all.

Meanwhile, I listen again and again to my song. This is the song I wrote about several weeks ago that I was seeing a dance to even in the pit of darkness. I still see the dance, only now I am in the light and that song has proven prophetic. I suppose it was God’s quiet word to me in the pit—only I could not see that then. I have it on “repeat” in the car and the words are taking on a new meaning in the other side of this.

Maybe someday I will dance it.

But for now I think I will just live it.

I did something tonight no one would ever believe, but I did it to be sure. Sometimes when your brain returns to your body you have to be sure your spirit is aligned with the real Head. So I threw out the fleece. Truly I don’t think it will affect anything, but I did it. I did just what Monica did. It never hurts to know. But I think sometimes I surprise myself.

I love my church so much that I hate to leave it but I hate to stay in Los Angeles. What a situation I am in. Fact is, now that my brain has snapped back,. I remember why came here. It was so easy to see today.

I woke up early and went to worship practice to just be there in the atmosphere. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the real Susan was back. Terry BEAMED at me. I glowered at her—okay not really GLOWERED but the joke is that I am mad at her for opening me back up. I still don’t understand how all this happened. But I sat there writing in my journal at worship practice and my chin was literally trembling because I wanted to cry and cry and cry. It wasn’t a bad cry this time—it was a crying of the ICK in me out of me. I mean, I wanted to sit down right there and cry it all out. I felt so safe and free being there. I could feel the anointing in that place—again; I could feel it again. But I kept the tears in check and wrote. It was like it was months ago and I was visiting. Of COURSE I wanted to be here. It made sense. Maybe that helped—I was not a total fool. Anybody with half a spiritual brain would want this if they saw it—maybe not everyone would run to GET it, but they WOULD want it. It wasn’t crazy. Actually I think if two things would have been different (excluding my minor emotional breakdown, of course), it would have worked. The first thing was my job. I hated it. The dread of going could ruin a day. The other was living in Pasadena. Now go figure, but I think I made a mistake there. I should have lived in the Valley by the church. I think I was determined to prove I was “above” that. Instead I missed out. Of course emotionally a lot was wrong too, but now that it is right and my brain snapped back to who I am in Christ and it is not just blind faith, now I can admit it even more. If I had a different job and simple apartment, I would even stay. But I am caught in a bad place—I can’t stay and am pained to go.

I will never find a church like this; it is why I came. I LOVE this church. You all reading this have no idea. But I have to earn a living and you can’t sacrifice yourself 5 days a week and then keep your spirits up that way. I can’t. Not without a family or a husband or personal fulfillment. I think I could work a dead end job if, when I left it each day, I had something. But I don’t—not consistently. You can’t live that way for a Wednesday night and a Sunday.

Terry really warmed my heart today when she told me that she really understood what I tried to tell her last night in my letter. She said she could see that some of this spiritual holding on is harder for me. It was not in a pitying way, and I was not trying to TELL her in a pitying way. She said she could see that because of my past and my life. You know, I guess the reason she can, and David can too, is because they knew me when. People in my life now, like Robin or other friends, they know ABOUT me when, but I think it makes a difference to see. To Terry it was easy to see how something as small as that connection could be life changing. While others only see that as a DEMAND at times. I felt so good knowing that it made sense. It does make sense, but I am only accused of being demanding—think back to Sue. When you look at it in the big picture it was a systematic destruction of the sanity God had given me. But it was unintentional. She didn’t know. People don’t know. We lived in the same house and could be the best of friends today if we had stopped yelling and sat down to pray—once a week even, if we had loved each other enough to follow through on our hearts. I think both our lives would be different today. That is old news, but I guess it helped me when Terry said she could really understand that. It makes total sense if you knew me before. But I wonder if it is too late now.

She says that if God created us that way, then isn’t it HIS responsibility to fulfill that? And my answer is yes and no. Sure it is, but people have to be willing. She is the one who always prays. She says if you send time fellowshipping with people then the King of Kings is there and you should not end without thanking Him. But she acknowledges there are few people like that. So what happened is because in my heart I share that desire, if I am with people who did not see prayer that way, they see it as demanding and divisive—it becomes an ISSUE instead of what we do naturally. That is why I get so upset and vow to stop forever. They don’t realize—I think Robin knows me better than anyone but even she can’t fully understand—it is the very thing God used to save my sanity.

It is life and breath. It is not rote, not a routine and not minor. It is the healing balm, and it is just like God too because the things He used like that were a benefit to OTHERS. It was never prayer for ME that was healing but when I joined with people to pray for OTHERS. So what He does for me goes to the heavens and touches others. Uh, yeah, that sounds like GOD! And maybe that is why in my heart it has been so hard to see the rejection and destruction in an area that was only healing and so pure in the beginning. Nothing has had a greater continuing effect. I remember back to that one and only prayer meeting at Beverly’s. And then I remember how no one would ever come to a second one. I remember coming home that night and the way the Lord spoke Isaiah 61 to me—laying on the kitchen floor. I was so consumed by the Holy Spirit I just laid right down with that Bible.

The next week my life went NUTS. I could even see why at the time—I knew I had had major revelation. But the attack came—and it was an attack from the pit of hell—from one of the people at the very prayer meeting that had affected me so. I guess if I didn’t know before I knew then that this healing had a price.

I believe—on my good days in truth when I am free—I believe that I am called to prayer in a deep way. I believe that there is power in my prayers and I have, many times, believed I have an anointing for praying for emotional healing for others in my praying too—that that is all part of what God has done in healing me. But I have seen all that die. Although Robin and I still prayed when I lived in Texas, after all the funkiness, I had kind of pulled away too so it was not that kind of praying—I have not prayed like that with people for a very long time—and the truth is, I need that reinforcement. I need another person at times—not all the time, but if I don’t have it nothing builds me up. Real prayer is draining—it drains your emotions and sometimes even your physical strength. If I give it all out of me but it doesn’t come back, I dry up. And now I can’t remember how long it has been since I was last like that.

But I know that is who I am inside even if it NEVER comes out because it is still there. I still sense it and nothing extraordinary has happened.

So that is my prayer story.

Meanwhile, church was great. Worship was great. I took my new streamer, Elegant Grace, and found myself a place by where the side door is. I wanted room—and I let loose. I think I probably scared a couple older ladies behind me who may not have knows that I was skilled enough not to slap them, but I didn’t look. I danced and spun and twirled and danced some more. I was breathing hard and had to fight a coughing fit, from the ending cold, when I was done, but I wrapped myself in that grace and stood there. Alive.

I know it may go away tomorrow—the world may fill me with its ick and Terry or anybody else won’t be next to me saying “you want to pray” and the ick will grow and the connections will subside and maybe a week from now I will cry again and then this memory will hurt more because it was another up followed by another down. But I am still a person consumed with, sometimes against my will, Interminable Hope, and I have to milk it for all its worth because I have missed it. I think maybe I have missed it for years. I am not even sure how long. I would do anything keep it. Yes, folks, I would live here and work in Glendale if it meant keeping it. Of course I have already quit my job, but I am not kidding. If I KNEW I could keep this, if I knew there was a connection, a way, I would stay. But there has never been a way. I don’t know if Robin would agree with this, probably not because she looks at the whole picture of my general life and job and stuff, but I would say the time of my life I was the most stable was the time she and I were praying every week at least. It changed my life forever. I love that and hate it at the same time. How do you find a unique thing again? How do you live without it and live?

Some people take Prozac; I take prayer. I am not kidding. Really. The very chemicals in my brain change. It sounds funny when I say this—not that I really have and now I am exposing it to the internet (!), but sometimes I know I can actually FEEL my brain shifting. I tried to explain that to Terry today. When I say emotional healing and talk about what a miracle it is, I am telling you my brain chemistry literally changes and I know that as sure I as I know I have ten toes that are cold right now! That is why I also knew when I got here and things went awry that my brain shifted the wrong way. I felt it. I really did. The other night it shifted back. This is why there is never a hopeless depressed person truly lost in worship and adoration to God—the two cannot coexist. That is why I have struggled in worship all these months too. The brain shifted and even that did not un-shift it because there was no connection—only Robin on a phone 1500 miles away. There is a truth here that probably makes no sense to people who have spend their entire lives 100 percent sane and stable, but I know this because I have lived it. I have the cure. God gave it to me six years ago in worship and prayer and praise. I have two and 1/3 of those things (prayer is threefold: alone, with a partner and corporately, so I have one)—but the missing thirds matter. It is almost like a pill that is made up of a chemical compound which is missing a precise proportion. The pill still has some effectiveness, but not what it should have. On good days it will work and do okay but in times of more illness, that pill needs to be complete or it is useless.

I am SO looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. Where am I going? To the homes of BOTH my pastors. I LOVE THIS CHURCH! Terry hates cooking and I love it so I offered to do anything she wants. So I am really excited because I am going over there early and she says she will be my assistant. I get the big kitchen and a Thanksgiving feast to work on. I love cooking for Thanksgiving. I haven’t had any place to go for a couple years so I am really excited. After that I will go to Pastor Dan and Cindy’s and enjoy dessert. I think will come back next year. Why not? There is a part of LA that will always be home, because of Terry and this church—and Pastor Darrell. If I ever were to get married he would have to be the one who did it. I adore them. They are special and this church is exceptional. I wanted it to be mine. But there would have to be an earthquake big enough to move the church to Texas at this point. Regret on both sides. I guess what Terry said is true—they will always be here for me to come to. And the weekend visits will be special—times of laughter and prayer and worship and church. I wouldn’t even HAVE that if I stayed, so I guess it is a good thing. I wonder if I will ever have both from one place.

We had lunch after church and we hung out and talked. We cleaned later—then gabbed. I enjoyed talking to Darrell a bit today too, before church and after. He is being so kind, so loving. They are so loving. Thank God. He actually told me his home email address too—gutsy guy! He is getting better at at least short email replies. I didn’t want to leave when I left. I arrived at church at 9 a.m. and it was almost 4 when I drove out and I could have stayed hours longer.

Yes, today the spring break trip made sense all over again. The only way this could have been avoided is if I had never gone to visit Darrell and Terry that Wednesday afternoon. I can STILL see why I did this. And when you get right down to it—I did it for the hope of that spiritual connection that would give me more breath. This is why I could minister with a team building churches in Nepal for six months with no contact with home easier than I could live alone in Chicago for a month in an ordinary life. It is not a perfect world of heavenly bliss, but it is connection that preserves me—spiritual bonds and intimacy. If I didn’t have debt I would probably be a long term missionary. Some people would think if I couldn’t do LA without the spiritual pressures, how could I do something like that—but I could—on a team or with a spiritual partner.

It is the compound of the pill. God’s spiritual Prozac. And the answer I have but am still searching for.

I went to San Diego today (my first time), to do a Shachah site survey for our February conference--after yesterday, it turned into quite the spiritual jaunt. Here are excerpts from a letter I wrote Terry when I got home:


I have had a great day—I loved San Diego—it is beautiful, but it is NATURAL beauty past Orange County and into the Oceanside area. I love the undeveloped land and vast ocean. At the first hotel I was already ruling it out when I met the sales manager—a lady from England who was so charming. No one knew what Shachah was so I explained it. I always try to get it to a basic concept for people unfamiliar with this type of ministry. I say, : “some people go to church and sing a hymn, and we might dance a hymn” She was really interested. She said she was Catholic growing up and it was “miserable” and “of course I don’t go to church now.” Of course, like it is not even a question, you know. I told her this was so UN-boring… I wished we would have the conference there just so she could see. I don’t think we WILL because it was not really the best neighborhood. But I was interested in my own reactions to this woman and seeing my heart actually have some life back in it.

The next hotel was uneventful, nice place. Then I was way early for the third—a Hilton in the Torrey Pines section by UCSD… apparently a famous golf course, etc. GORGEOUS area. I knew I had a solid appt. there and could not go early so I went to the ocean. There was no charge to park (-: I picked up rocks and ran my fingers through the sand and remembered the simple stuff.

On my way down this morning I prayed a lot... So anyway I loved being down by the ocean... very few people—reminded me of Pismo Beach last March when I was so affected emotionally and spiritually. Of course so much has happened SINCE March, you know…

I finally went back to the hotel (they charged for parking but the events person signed it off for me ). I parked underground and was still a few minutes early and knew it was a bit too early to go up.

On my way this morning as I was praying and just listening to a CD I love (all in all, I listened to this whole CD for 5 hours in the car today and I am not tried of it!)—the one with the song that I keep seeing a dance to even when I am dry inside—I mean it is the most passionate dance that I am shocked it comes out of me.... I keep wishing it would go AWAY because now I will unlikely ever get to dance it but the picture STAYS in me. And then suddenly I said “I feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in this car.” Now that might SOUND like a no brainer but even when I dance in church—it doesn’t happen—When I do dance it has been more like a hope that the act of dancing will soften me and bring that—occasionally it starts a wee bit but I have never had it since I have been here. I felt like ME today—I was expressing surprise that last night one prayer could so easily bring that life out of me. But you know what? It has before, after other dry spells—but also I know it does leave. It is very hard to sustain all this alone. And just going to church doesn’t do it. What changed my life and set me on the right path was when Robin and I began praying together—our closeness as friends became a spiritual closeness, too, and I attribute that more than anything to the change in me—it gave me a security in a spiritual and emotional sense like nothing else in my life. That is why it is so hard and so wonderful at the same time… I am jumping around but let me return to this in a minute...

So I am feeling the Holy Spirit today and I am doing all this and after the beach pulled into that underground lot and was basically alone. I locked my car, put the seat back and gave into what was filling me and prayed—not forever, but out of my heart—in the Spirit until I got it out—don’t know what IT was, just that something was coming to the surface. The I went through that hotel (which was BEAUTIFUL).

I had a wonderful day singing (croaking it out but at least feeling better [from my cold]) and praying and seeing beauty. I was wondering if I might actually go to church tomorrow and feel FREE to worship and be alive… what a concept. That is what I came here for, but it never happened.

Now back to all the bubbling over stuff and the prayer stuff. I know some people can pray by rote—I suppose in a crowd I can too, but why it was so hard is because one on one I can’t—it has to be real. It is one place I cannot pretend a bit and that means to pray with someone I have to be soft and let the walls down at least some. That is why I wanted to hit you too!

All my life I wanted attention and would do all those awful things to get it because attention would get me closeness(in my way of thinking)? That is what changed with Robin. When we prayed it brought us together to God and that closeness with another person is far greater than negative closeness over attention getting stuff. And that is when I realized that I could have closeness and intimacy with people in a POSITIVE way and spiritual way and maybe actually start growing up. That is what prayer did for me. It released me from that pit of needing negative attention because it might make someone love me ...that spiritual connection replaced an emotional one for me. When I lose that prayer, I lose [part of] myself... I LOVE prayer meetings. But that one on one thing is what almost gives me a second chance where I lost it—it is a God Thing I can’t explain but it drives me to HIM. When Robin and I first started praying and I saw what was happening it did not make me love HER more, but God more. It drove me to Him more alone and more with praying for others. At first you couldn't STOP me from praying for everyone around me. I think people thought I was obnoxious. But then if I didn’t have it, I had less to give.

So I got used to being without it and even stopped THINKING about it. I really did –for the first time in YEARS I stopped wishing for prayer partners and stuff. Until last night! So now I am trying to figure out what to DO with this… I still think I should shut it off again because who would I pray with? That kind of prayer has to come out of relationship—and relationship takes time. That is something I am lacking—even if I find a dance group and we pray it won’t be the same thing. Maybe it sounds stupid—but six years ago when this started I believed that was the way God Himself was filing the HUMAN hole in me [as a kid] with a spiritual answer that still involved a human. I don’t have a clue if that really makes SENSE or sounds crazy... .

So I have been riding on hope of going home, but now I think of this and wonder if going home can be all that perfect either if I am still lacking the thing so instrumental in my life. It is an interesting thought.

See, I told you it was a can of worms. But even though this is one miniature example, it is also a very good one. Look at what happened—simple prayer (well, maybe not for me, but the prayer itself was) and look at me all day today. I wasn’t focused on TERRY, but on GOD. That is what happens to me, but again it is something involving other people so I can’t depend on it. Of COURSE I need to go to God on my own—that part is NOT an issue. I guess the point with that is that it is hard sometimes to keep that passion all alone when there is not that other person spark from time to time.

I cry when I read the letter you sent in response to my blog last night. I know you are right—I used to fight like crazy in prayer. I prayed last night like I barely could talk but the truth was it was more the confidence level because as soon as I opened my mouth, had I had confidence and not been afraid I could have prayed with more power and might than YOU even know I have in me—but deep down I have been a warrior and wonder if I still could be. I have never prayed like that around you. But I have that in me. I used to. But talk about exposing yourself....

Robin keeps reminding me of all I have been taught of the “deposit” within me. I didn’t even buy into it Wednesday when we talked, but now I remember. That is why if someone needed me now I could pray three devils out of him or her....

Full heart, huh? Next week, of course, I am going to talk to Robin about this THING in me that has haunted me and hurt so much—I have better hope for it now. I guess it just worked out to talk to her easier—that is okay, I just needed someone and that was what worked. I knew it had to be her or one or both of you—no one else would even GET it.

Okay enough—I did find a Fazolis (-: I only had an address but I knew it had to be on a major street—I found it only going two blocks out of my way—and there was no exit off the freeway, but I go by instinct! I get excited when I do that. I thought about going to Mexico too. I didn’t really want to for any reason other than I am a US citizen and now I can just GO. People don’t know what that means—and I want to use it—but I decided I could go another time. So I just got my Fazolis to go and have good old Fazolis in my fridge. A full stomach and a full heart.

What’s next?

You commented on the last line of my blog when I said “Please don’t pinch me; I don’t want to wake up.” I mean that it is only this good in a dream,. It doesn’t work in reality—not for long. Sometimes I think there has to be an answer. What I want and need is so simple, so easy, but so complicated. Look at it—it destroyed me and Sue. Yet I don’t get it because it is SO SIMPLE. There must be an answer.

It has been months—I don’t know how many—over three for sure, and that was on the phone. In this year it has been a lifetime—ages and eons on another planet, separate from the world I once called home in my heart, apart from the dreams that carried my spirit on the wings of the day. Then tonight, in an instant, it was there again. I didn’t mean for it to be, didn’t think it could be, but after a pause longer than a conversation for some, my mouth opened and the words came out—“Lord…” I didn’t know what to say. How long has it been since I sat in a couch holding the and of a friend and coming before the throne of God? I guess in August, an the Sheraton in Pasadena, my good bye prayer with Robin—then a couple more on the phone and then it was gone. Until tonight—until Terry said, “you want to do some praying tonight?”

Yes!

“No, I can’t.”

YES. Desperately. Deep down. Yes, I want it back.

“No. I don’t do that anymore. I can’t do that anymore.”

Yes.

And I became the irony about which I have been teaching my kids this week. A contradiction, the textbook says. Yes, I want to pray. No. I can’t.

Ever patient, Terry closed her eyes and sat there. And sat and sat and sat. I laughed. I told her I could almost see Robin across the room saying “You go, Terry!” I sat silently, wondering where the words were.

And then I remembered years ago, on that Saturday afternoon in October when Robin and I prayed our first prayer together and my life changed forever. And that was how I felt—as nervous as if I have never done it before.

Finally I opened my mouth. And then everything went haywire.

It was EASY. The words flowed out as if they never left. And that was almost scary. And Then I cried. I finished and I cried—and I cried and cried and cried. The only reason I am not crying now is because I am writing.

This is how it was supposed to be. This was part of the dream. Why didn’t it happen? What would have been different?

And then the fear. Can it ever be again? You don’t make things like this happen. And darnit, I love it too much. My emotions are so raw right now, sitting on the surface, tender to the touch—and they were touched. What do I do with this? I thought I better just bury it all over again. I need it too much to want it.

In one moment I felt the old feelings—I became me. I could imagine, I could actually imagine that glory again. It was easy. And it is gone. Make it for yourself—oh, how I have tried. I told Terry the story of Sue tonight. That is what happens when I try.

So I tasted it—and now my heart is exposed. What do I do with it? What a wonder it would be to go to church Sunday with this open heart. To once stand in that sanctuary free before I go. But experience tells me, it will close too soon. You can’t sustain an agreeing heart alone. There is early prayer alone in your room; there is the prayer group you join, but there is nothing as tender or as special as the two hearts that join to enter the throne room together.

I forgot for months but remembered in an instant. And now it is like being reborn and dying all over again. I sat amazed at the level of feeling rising within me, permeating the core of my soul and spirit. I cried. I know Terry could see it but didn’t know the whole core. I told her, though, no it is not okay, like you say. It gets me in trouble every time.

But for a moment it was nice to remember—even if the ache to remember is there again.

I guess I am still alive.

Please don’t pinch me; I don’t want to wake up.

What a weird day. Anastasia’s dad would hate me saying my day was weird, but it just was. Anyway, the college called this afternoon informing me I had been chosen as a finalist that they wanted to interview. I wasn’t shocked, but in many ways I was hoping they wouldn't call. I know that sounds ridiculous. But then that would leave me with Clear lake—my sure thing—my old buddy, good church, tambourine team. So safe. So my heart will not be broken if I don’t get this. I still don’t think I have a super great shot simply because as far as college professors go I am under qualified. I meet the requirements but don’t go much over. I have never cared about publishing. When others send vitas, I send resumes. I am not typical college material. But 5 or 6 committee members (YUCK) will sit there and dart pointed questions at me for an hour on Dec. 1—the anniversary of the most important day of my life, I might add. I will wear my black pin striped suit, of course.

Thus my opportunities could not be much more disparate. There is a six hour travel difference between the two cities. One is quaint, small, almost hick, East Texas, the other suburbs of one of the largest cities in the nation. Northeast Texas gets cold, ice and snow. Houston doesn’t drop below about 40 degrees even in February. The worlds are very different—and on one of those areas my new life will begin. I am considering living in a couple other places if I work in Mount Pleasant. Tyler is a distant consideration—it is rather far for a daily commute, but I haven’t ruled it out ENTIRELY. The other odd consideration is QUITMAN! It is halfway between Tyler and MP and convenient to Shachah as well—also in Quitman I am looking at rock bottom rent and a rental company that will hand me the keys to anyplace they have open. Only living in Los Angeles could make a person want to love in Quitman! Of course then church becomes a factor. Tyler Metro and a long commute? Do I go to MP and go to Daingerfield where I know there is dance? Do I stick with PA plan to start a community dance team wherever I go? See why Clear Lake is easy? I move and everything is there. This is probably the foil.

Meanwhile, here is what happened tonight—as copied from a letter:

My landlord called tonight telling me that the meditation guy was very interested and had been approved but he wanted to see it again. he couldn't find my number so he called Dennis-the landlord--Dennis the landlord felt uncomfortable giving David the renter my number (LIKE HELLO DENNIS--it is listed on the INTERNET!!!!) Anyway, he called me and said David was interested but want to see it again before he decided, etc. So I called David and he was very happy to hear from me. I let him come over again (after acting like another friend was coming by too--renting is scary--letting men in your house...)Anyway, he came and walked in and said he liked it--period. This is the guy who said he liked the FEEL of it--anyway, he said he wanted it and called Dennis to leave a message. Of course it was too late. David is leaving for Fresno in the a.m. and then leaves Tuesday for T-giving on the east coast He told Dennis he is leaving him the deposit tonight in the mail slot and will sign the else Monday. perhaps I have picked up on a bit of my landlord's cynicism, but I know until that lease is SIGNED nothing is in stone. I am not out of my lease unless David is in. Still, if he leaves that money tonight that is pretty certain I must say. So please pray he follows through-if so, he will sign it Monday and I will be free! I will also only have to pay two weeks rent, as planned. He also wants to buy almost all the furniture I have because he has nothing--in fact NOW my conflict is that I might have TOO many people wanting my furniture!!!

And now it is approaching 10 p.m.—I am never up this late these days. Perhaps my Shachah venture to San Diego Saturday will be a wee bit more peaceful than I planned. Suddenly all the doors are flinging open…

Sometimes the quietest prayers are the most powerful.

Early morning at work. I was here at 7 for a meeting with the assistant principal and a parent. I didn’t have to come but I was very concerned about the kid—decided to make the extra effort. Alas! The principal did not even show up. J’ne m’amuse pas!

Anyway, I have had an extra hour to work—lots to do when you are leaving. I woke up much better today than yesterday. I am hoping that if the college is going to call for an interview, it will be today. This is the day they meet to decide who gets interviewed. I may not be, and really that is okay. I mean that because then it leaves me with Clear Lake and it could be much worse. For pity’s sake, how bad could it be working for the Doc?

The biggest reason I want them to call or to tell me they aren’t is because I have to change that plane ticket PRONTO! There are still some low prices on Tuesday. I need to save money in every way possible. Aunty Rose (Shachah person) wrote this morning and offered me her spare bedroom that weekend so once I leave the hotel I would have a place to stay—I even found a cheap rental car I reserved in case I need it—so it is feasible. But, as usual, I am IN LIMBO.

Argabuga! (that is English for J’ne m’amuse pas!)

One moving hurdle mounted. It assures me my new home in Texas will have furniture. Thank God.

I love my Aunt Jiggers.

The apartment hurdles looms. Dennis left a message today. Someone at least filled out an application—that is good because it costs $30 to do that so you don’t unless you are truly interested. But until there is money, it is my white elephant.

I had my lowest day yet today. I actually even emailed Darrell and just told him to pray for me throughout the day. I never do that, but I didn’t care what anyone thought. He wrote me back a kind letter this afternoon. He is a good guy.

But I am glad I stayed home from church because John called me at 7 sharp (that is a pun on his name!—and actually it was a couple minutes after). He always calls on a Wednesday which must be a regular night he is off. But I was glad to talk to him. That is the only connection I feel to anything family like. We don’t really know each other but it still is nice.

I got a lot of boxes at work. They will box my books nicely. Terry is helping me pack Friday night. Randy from church came over last night and agreed to buy my computer desk and chair, said he probably would know someone who wanted the couch and loveseat and would take everything else and either give it away or keep it for people who needed it.

If only things were more certain. It is only weeks away, but I still feel so far from home.

Everyone needs a Bobbin.

Thank God I have one.

Wow—obviously I have not been at my best or I would have written, huh? Truth is I am so discouraged about renting this place and moving that it is blinding me. I got a little light today to hang on to while I wait. It is not about the apartment, and that is the bane of my existence right now, but there comes a time you will take any light offered.

I had an interesting email today. This weekend I was looking at some churches n the Clear Lake area to see what was there. Although there is one Doc found for me, I still had a feeling it might be a bit too “seeker friendly” for me—and it is really big, too. So I was just glancing and one of the last ones I saw had listed under its ministries a tambourine and dance team. GASP! Tambourine… So I emailed the lady in charge of worship. This morning she wrote me back and said they have a team and she was sending my email to one of the leaders. I got home, half conscious, from work to an email from the leader who handles the regular worship services (they have one who does specials and one for another part of the ministy, too). She said they do both prophetic and choreographed dance and tambourine and they use patterns, too. She said many of the patterns they use are from Shachah and “you wouldn’t happen to be with Shachah would you?” Uh, YEAH! I was amazed. So I wrote her right back and told her I would be in touch soon if I was coming that way. They do specials and also minister regularly on Sunday nights when they do prophetic intercession like they do at the House of Prayer. GASP! Nothing is settled yet and right now at the point I am at that seems far removed—yet it is light. How I have LONGED to use what I know in Shachah with people who love and respect it. How exciting that would be. I think even Aunty could get excited about this move!

So I emailed Dr Hayes and told him—he will not totally understand but will be happy. I have to admit—I don’t really WANT the college job to work out. Not yet anyway. I want to go to Clear Lake where now I know I could have a god job and still dance and even play that dumb old tambourine.

I asked Dr. Hayes two things today—one, was it as humid as they say? His answer to that was yes—sometimes it is not hot, but yeah, it is always pretty humid. Okay, gag me, but as I said to him, it is starting to look like the only bad thing about being there is the weather and right now I live in perfect weather and hate my life, so that is certainly relative!

The other question I asked was did he feel like he was a part of Houston or was it more like a small town. He said it was like being part of a small community with great people (and he is a tough person to please, as he says himself).

Obviously, nothing is set. Just because the church has what I love doesn’t mean I will like the church. The job is not full time yet either. But at least it is something to grasp. I mapped the church—it is 4.7 miles from the school.

Meanwhile I got an email from Robin and she is going to meet me in Dallas Thanksgiving weekend and we are going to talk. That is good because I need to talk about this thing bothering me because now it is taking its toll. Once truth is revealed to me I cannot hold on very long without dealing with it. The truth sets me free, and the lack of truth destroys me.

So that is part of an update—most of the past few day’s update is not worth writing. I have been sick AGAIN—I mean I have just NOT been a healthy person since coming to LA. Last night I could not sleep for literally half the night and when I did sleep it was tumultuous and worry-filled. Of course that made my healing cold sink back. By the afternoon I could barely talk. My throat is still raw, and I felt so bad I could hardly stand in front of the class. This added to the discouragement did not make for a good Susan today. It was another empty day with no answers and fear of money looming with this situation. I am not doing well with that. It is the only hold on me and I hate it. And more than anything I hate that people in business don’t have compassion on people who need a break.

I need to be free.

Assorted thoughts from Friday--excerpted and edited from a letter to Robin:

Word is around the English dept. that I resigned but all is good. They actually seem sorry. No one ever knew how much I hated it. That is good. Hasmik hugged me today and lamented my untimely departure. Whatever. Better to go out with people liking you.

Pastor Dan and Cindy came to dinner tonight. I really had a wonderful time with them. They are a LOT of fun. They enjoyed dinner—especially Pastor Dan—the man who likes EVERYTHING! But I love that. My happiest/saddest moment of the night was when I showed then the Shachah video from two years ago with the whole Don Moen medley. They were very taken with it and thought it was truly awesome. They asked so much about Shachah; it seemed Cindy stumbled across the website looking for something else and realized it was the ministry I talk so much about. She was like “Wow, this is national.” They asked me about my travels—and if I was self-supporting. They treated me like I was doing real ministry. I am certainly not used to that. Self supporting? Oh yeah. I said other than one pair of flags Robin bought me because she felt the Lord wanted her to, every penny of that ministry money came out of my pocket. That is why I hardly think of it as ministry in many ways. It is just what I do. But I say that was the happiest/saddest because I could tell by their reactions that they would love to see some of that here. They actually seemed very interested in the way the patterns work together into dances and tambourine moves and stuff. No one has ever seemed to care—people are too lazy or scared of that structure that creates the excellence Shachah has. They didn’t patronize me like many people do. And it is sad because I know if I stayed it wouldn’t be long before I was helping put small scale stuff on here. But at what cost? –I loved them for acting like I was truly doing something neat and asking me questions. It would have happened if I had stayed. And I will have to live with that regret forever. Yet I can’t stay and live with the rest of life. I wonder if it is possible that one day will have fulfillment both spiritually and naturally. Why can’t ministry and work and home be decent? Not perfect, but DECENT. Here ministry could be GREAT but everyday life and work are so bad I can’t stand it. What an awful trade off. I guess the good news is Shachah gets to come to Heaven. Okay, so in Heaven we won’t do patterns and talk in 8 counts, but the worship will be forever—I have tasted Heaven in these moments. And all the people who never cared what Shachah was about or what it taught will see that it had eternal value. Sometimes I get so frustrated—I feel like no one takes a REAL interest in it and that is an insult to ME because that is the biggest thing in my world. So it was special—validating. Anyway, I went off on a serious bunny trail, but it was a wonderful night—great friends. At least I leave here with friends. They were trying to help me find a way to get stuff to Texas at a reasonable cost. Pastor Dan suggested maybe someone from the church would drive out with me even though I told them my plan. Cindy actually considered it herself but I said it was going to be too close to Christmas for her. And I was stunned. But that is one thing I do love about this church—you know all these family ties and boundaries that ache so bad in my world? They don’t do that here. It is probably the first place where I have seen the family of God idea played out so much that no one ends up lost and lonely, except by choice. Both pastors open their homes on holidays. It is neat. I guess wherever I live I now live with regret. Give up the greatest church for sanity or give up sanity for the greatest church.

It is like having to choose WHICH ancient method by which to be tortured.

Today's headline in the LA Times screamed "State Math Scores Leap." Upon further reading we find only 25 percent of 4th graders can do at least proficient math--and that is 6 points below the national average. They credit this ALLEGED "leap" to the new state "standards" in 1998--the very standards that make it impossible to REALLY teach and bind everyone to rituals that worry more about students knowing the number of a standard than the content therein.

A few blanks I realized I did not fill in from yesterday: The cryptic email was from Dr. Hayes—it seems yesterday morning his yearbook teacher came in and asked to get out of his contract at Christmas! Meanwhile he already had approval for a half time English teacher. The yearbook part is not yet certain since he has not officially resigned—the English is. He said that if it happens “it’s yours if you want it.” And I can have the English for sure. Thus, the uncertainty turned to hope. Worst case scenario is now I have two part time jobs—I could pick up a couple more and hold out til fall, I am sure. But I am sure something full time will open up—so it is starting to look like I am off to the worst climate ever! But KNOWING I will like my job and the teaching situation is half the battle. Being close enough to drive to Shachah some weekends—to take off to East Texas, things like that—that will keep me sane until I can settle.

Yesterday we had a real thunderstorm (of course on the news they thought it was a great tragedy and a man at church even called Pastor Darrell to see if we were still having church!), but as I drove home from work—on the first day that I had hope of a job year all this—I saw it in the sky.

A rainbow.

I am eating real New York pizza, chocolate and red licorice. Ooops. Something is up.

A good friend accidentally hurt me (not knowing it, I know, but it still stung) at church and so I left and ate my pain away.

I thank God for Dr. Hayes and the job opportunity. I can’t imagine how I am going to get home with my stuff or how I will afford it after the work junk—but I am ready.

He is my old friend, the Doc. It was so good to talk to him—and you know what? It was like not a day had passed. That is always the sign of good friendship.

I have TWO U-Hauls booked now—one from North Hollywood to Dallas and one from North Hollywood to League City (South of Houston where Dr Hayes is). But I just wish I knew what I was doing in the meantime—now I am going to book my storage unit for the time I am living in the guest house here.

I have at least a part time job--within a couple weeks I will know if it s full time. By then I will also know about at least one other job.

I told my principal I am leaving.

Hope came this morning in the form of an email:

Are you interested in teaching 3 sections of English and 3 sections of
yearbook?

Uh, YEAH!

Maybe he heard me cry myself to sleep last night.

I lasted about a day before I wanted to scream again in LA. It is pointless. But I don’t have a job yet. The things I have applied for are serious jobs—the kind where they interview lots of people and makes decisions—stuff that takes a while and is a longshot anyway. But Friday night Pastor Dan and Cindy are coming to dinner. Saturday morning I start packing. I bet I won’t even wash some of the things I use, but rather will throw them right out. I will place an ad next week to sell my furniture (I will save the bed for last). And I will leave. But I don’t know where I am going. I wish I could spend a few months on the mountain—work a mindless job and rest. I have no help anymore when it comes to getting the major stuff done so it is me and me against the world. It is scary. But the fact is, it is scarier to continue on as I am.

I have to go back to work tomorrow. I always feel like I am in prison there. But I have asked for the resignation form. I am resigning. I can’t stand it—can’t do this any longer. If anything else didn’t show me, the fact that I become a different person (a NICE person) when I leave here is enough evidence for me.

It is 8 p.m. I am headed to bed. I guess I have really quit ballet—two weeks of missing it—but what is the point. I want to learn my Shachah stuff and prepare for the next seminar.

I need a job so I can start to have a life again.

The following is much of a letter I wrote after returning from Pennsylvania last night:

My legs are sore from dancing too much, my brain is fried from a 6 hour flight and my heart is hopeful with new friends and continued purpose. Thus, I conclude my weekend in the Pennsylvania mountains by declaring it another resounding success. The only bad part was coming back to Los Angeles. Not for long, though—not a chance.

First, Blue Mountain Christian Retreat is definitely my favorite place on earth. It is nestled south of the Pocono mountains in northeastern PA and is immensely, breathtakingly beautiful. I took more pictures this time I will email, later in the week. Take a lady swamped with thought and plant her in that setting and watch the brain clear. It got off to a rough start in many ways but in the end the clarity came not while hiking up the mountain to the prayer chapel or foraging for leaves on the ground; rather, it came as I lay resting behind the Shachah book table before ewe went to work again. It came silently but clearly in my heart. More on that later.

Meanwhile the main event often trip was the Shachah worship conference, an annual event that I worked at with the ministry staff. Let me begin with and overview of that.

Each conference I seem to know a little more than the last time so I do more. This conference I was up on stage as Aunty Magrate taught beginner tambourine. Beverly, my friend, and I demonstrated almost the entire syllabus—THAT was pressure—teaching is more intimidating than playing, but it was good. I could do it and that was exciting. I need to perfect it because as Ruthie said, they need more teachers and help at this point, with Maxine getting married and all. So I came home resolved. I even helped with FLAGS! That is a hoot if you know me. I don’t play flags officially—it has been my last skill coming. I know about 4 patterns. I actually went outside where the classes were on the mountain to TAKE the class and Max put me to work “Help, Susan.” So I was to walk around to people having trouble doing Half Shield (a twirl of the flag that changes hands) and I knew what well so it was easy—and then Max taught Full Shield (change hands and then come right back to the original hand)—and I could hardly remember it. I ran back inside when no one was looking and grabbed a book and my friend Lisa and told her to teach me Full Shield again. I got it and ran back downstairs to help people with that. That is the Shachah way—you don’t know it? LEARN IT NOW! Don’t make excuses. So no one even knew I was clueless. It was exciting though.

We did a lot of ministering in the services of course. That is always neat—if exhausting! And I even got to play “As David Did” again with the team—and I am leaning it better. That also is exciting because I have wanted to play that forever. I had a blast with everyone from the various areas working with Shachah I realized on this trip they are not just people I see each time, but they have become true FRIENDS. That is a neat feeling—friends who understand and share your heart like no one else can. Until you are in a Shachah seminar you can tell people til you are blue in the face but it doesn’t really explain it.

On that end, we were blessed by two people who DID attend this year. They did not know each other or come together. They came with their families—one lady seemed to know me (probably from the New York seminar—this as my third East Coast seminar this year so I lose track of people who know me, you know?) and introduced me to her husband. Later both of these men—this lady’s husband and another man whom Aunty met, were introduced to the groups at different times--having no connection or even knowing each other. Both men are New York City Police officers—and attended separately! They spent their days off at a worship seminar that focuses on dance, tambourine and flags. Seeing the lady’s husband, the cop from the Bronx who works 110th and Lexington in the city, stand up and twirl a huge tossing flag last night was so awesome. Women who do these things are neat, but I believe in my heart it is the MEN who will shake the earth. NYPD officers are hardly wimps. What an influence that was on everyone. WOW!

I enjoyed my time with the Shachah team more than ever. We are becoming real friends--a group of us dancers from all over the nation--people who would not have known each other under other circumstances. We minister to each other as well as the people who come to the seminars. Each time I go I learn something new just about ministry in general. What great training I have had. How blessed I am!

People at the book tables commented that they were thankful we would help them or answer all their questions or whatever--I told one that it was truly my pleasure. That is one of my favorite things--simply helping the people--teaching them, encouraging them. This is the stuff that matters. One of the teenage boys was downstairs with us at breakfast saying to someone "you go on, I am not dancing and doing that girl stuff." Somehow someone snared him because that afternoon he was demonstrating flags and even knew that no sissy could HANDLE the Shachah syllabus. Another guy redeemed from the pit of lies that says guys can't dance or minister in the worship arts.

I enjoyed good conversation with old acquaintances that truly became new friends. Most especially I spent time with Beverly from Okalahoma, Lisa from Long Island and Katie who works right there at Blue Mountain. I enjoyed a late night dinner with Beverly in Orwigsburg--a town with an awful name and so much charm. I enjoyed MANY talks with Lisa and felt a very strong spiritual connection with her. We also shared many laughs that all began with our old joke from the New York City conference in May when Pastor Michael would not let me take the subway to my hotel late at night and had her take me because she and I were both staying in Queens, and then she got us lost. It bonded us. We had great talks--serious talks, good laughs. Seems every time I was not in a class Aunty Magrate, our leader would walk by. It became such a joke--she would walk by and say "Susan Tyrell, why are you not in a class?:" and not even LOOK at Lisa. One day Lisa and I lingered in the dining room and they started upstairs. Aunty was on a microphone giving instructions on a dance step with streamers. All of a sudden the volume was piped into the dining room... "Step to your left, ball, change, step to your right..." And I stood up, automatically and started doing the moves as if I were supposed to be dancing. It was a huge joke because last year I did the same thing when a video was running. I told Aunty later how she always seemed to appear and how I responded to her even when she wasn't there. She thought it was HYSTERICAL. The night before I had been sharing with Katie at the office how I had to stay after dance class once and do a step 20 times I said I couldn't do (because failure is not accepted in Shachah) and as I was telling the story Aunty Magrate appeared "Susan Tyrrell--why are you not in a class?!" Fact is I did not HAVE to be in one, so I was not doing something wrong but she was just checking. But it was like she KNEW I was saying something. So then that day Lisa and I were talking we went back in to work the book table and I had to run to the restroom. It had all become such a joke that I said "Oh no, what if I go? As soon as I leave I will bump into her?!" It was a joke because she would NEVER be mad at that but it was more funny how I was seen whatever I did--and no one else was. Finally I went. I walked across the room--got to the pathway that led to the outside doors and there was Aunty walking in--she collided with me. I stood there laughing-she did not know why--she just hugged me. It was HYSTERICAL. So later that afternoon it had become the biggest joke among us Shachah people and Aunty was up there sharing and being very serious. We were sitting behind the book table listening--and then out of the BLUE she talks about how sometimes the kids might fall asleep and that was okay "BUT DON'T YOU THINK ABOUT IT SUSAN TYRRELL!" We laughed so hard we could not stand it. She did not REALIZE what she was doing. It was truly funny. I said it is a good thing I was not saying bad stuff about her. She would probably hear me! (-:

So there was lots of fun and laughter. And friendships--continuing and beginning. I mentioned Katie. Katie and her husband Mark are from New York City and the Lord opened a door for them to work at the retreat. I am not sure of the exact title but they basically run the place. Katie is the one who replied over a year ago to my email asking about getting a room for LAST year's conference. We seemed to hit it off last year, even in email—it was kind of funny—but somehow this year we became friends. Actually God used her Friday at a critical time when I needed someone and she was right there saying something I needed to hear but she didn't even know it. We got to talking more and actually Sunday when it was over I talked to her and her husband so much that they were worried I would miss my plane! Anyway, the rush season is over there, leaving her with more time and so we decided to email. I also talked to them about coming back sometime for a few days, just to be there on the mountain. I love it so much. I am glad to have gotten to know Katie better. She is the one who offered me a summer job last year. That didn't work out but maybe one day I will be able to.

The only thing that is sometimes hard about these Shachah conferences is that I am so deeply involved and yet I am not a part of an outside team--I always go alone. I AM a part of the Shachah team and any dances or demonstrations I know competently I do with them. When we lead worship I am up there with them, but I am longing like I cannot describe to have opportunity to do more. I want to take a team up there. I decided that wherever I end up (which is right now looking like it could be a small town area in northeast Texas) I am going to try to start something up in the COMMUNITY--not a church thing wherever I get to go, but a community thing. It hit me when a lady was sharing with me her passion and seeing another lady from her town and one was Assembly of God and one Baptist but both wanted to do the same things. I really encouraged her to get with this other person and invite some more and start working on the syllabus and stuff—to do it at town events and public things. Why does worship have to be confined to the church doors? So if I end up in a small area, that is where I will launch from. If I end up in Dallas, I will work more closely with Shachah. If I go to Houston I might combine. Dr. Hayes, my old boss, already found a church that is "right up my alley" by him and I wrote them and they have been in touch with me (three times actually) about dance ministry. So maybe it IS in the future after all...

Anyway, it was a truly awesome trip--I think the excitement of seeing people get this vision will never wear down. How much we take it for granted. Every time I do one of these I remember the importance. Personally I had positive experiences that helped in this adjustment period. You can't be on that mountain and NOT encounter God.

I got back Sunday night at 9 (midnight on my time clock) and had to do a work training today. That was tough as I literally almost fell asleep several times. But I get a day off Tuesday to clean up, do laundry and job hunt some more. It is all getting closer--I feel it. That was what I discovered as I lay behind the book table during a service when we had a break. Somehow reflecting on my mountain only propelled me more toward the trees of Texas.

Anyway, this is the short version (yes, it really is the SHORT version!).

In the future, conferences will be different. Maxine, the youngest Yap daughter is getting married Nov. 30 and moving to Austin with her husband. Melissa is here at USC. Brandi will be leaving in February to run the Shachah office in Malaysia that is reopening. Only Ruthie and Anna will still be here—and Valentine is now around, so hopefully she will stay. Thus I am going to work harder on the things I don't know so I can be more helpful. That is exciting. They will be here in San Diego in February--in fact I will be in San Diego Nov. 22 doing site surveys so Pastor Michael can choose the conference site. The annual conference this year is in Miami. And there is a Long Island seminar coming up that my friend is hosting and INSISTS I attend! I certainly hope I can--especially since I really bonded with her team and would love that! But you know what guys? This is my passion. Moving away could not take this from me--so if I have to work one or two extra jobs to afford my travels I don't care because every time I am back in it I remember WHY it is so important to me. I admit if I keep this up I really need to be flying in and out of DFW--these across the country flights in a weekend are killer! But I would have never guessed that the people I saw lead a dance seminar over three years ago would become like family to name and I would be up with some of these same people leading. What an AWESOME three years. And every time I think it is slowing and ending it flares back up again. I look forward to the next chapter.

Thanks for your prayers on this trip. As far as everything went--travel, baggage, car rental, even driving in the rain--all was entirely smooth--unlike the last couple of Shachah trips I had with logistical chaos. The six hour flight home about drove me into an insane asylum, but other that that I was fine! Seriously sitting in one cramped space for six solid hours--mostly in turbulence so you could not even get up, was like ancient torture to a lively person! for now on I believe in CONNECTIONS if the flight is longer than 3 hours! YIKES!!! But I thank God it was an awesome time of ministry and a successful conference. We were delighted by all the new people who had never been exposed to such a ministry before. But I think I can speak for everyone when I say we were most ministered to by the NYPD officers who took time off with their families and came to worship on the mountain.

It is truly the mountain of God.


Blog entry:

Before I left I was actually at a point of thinking maybe I would stay for the church. I do love it, but then a series of events in PA made it clear. I need to get out of cities. In FACT, I am actually thinking of moving to deep East Texas where there is no traffic or anything else like that-where I can live in a country house and enjoy tranquility and nature. Emerson and I would have been friends.

The whole weekend was incredible as usual. I will go ahead and insert some journal excerpts here and then conclude. Please keep in mind these are excerpts written at the time I was thinking /feeling them…

11/6/03—I’m on another plane—American airlines Flight 114 LAX/EWR. Sometimes I can speak fluently in airport codes… they served us breakfast. I asked what happened to the Bistro Bags. Apparently now I have graduated to longer flights they serve us food on long flights…unnecessary, but nice. So the flight is good—a 767, which I love—aisle seat right by the restroom—seatmate as much of a loner as I.

Time to think

Rats.

I’m on my way to the mountain I love so much. Somehow Blue Mountain became my favorite place on earth after only one visit. I need the beauty; I need the peace; I need the stillness. And I need to be away from both California and Texas—away from the confusion.

This is a long flight, and I don’t like it. The flight is fine; I can’t imagine it being a better condition as far as plane, seat, etc. But it’s FIVE HOURS of Susan sitting in a cramped space. AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m already doing dance stretches and playing air drums—and I don’t think we are halfway there yet. Usually at this point we are about to descend. Yikes. Yes, the DFW central hub, convenient to all points east and west, is a good thing!

11/7/03—12:20 a.m. Another late night/early morning. I arrived safely at the Blue Mountain Christian Retreat at 7:30 p.m. this evening—11 hours after leaving my home in Pasadena! I complain, but the truth is I would make a good traveling minister IF that was all I was doing. Working full time and squeezing stuff like this in is what makes it hard. It feels normal being here. I have only seen it through complete darkness, but I can still tell how beautiful it is. I LOVE it up here…

The snack shop was closed tonight and after having only a sandwiches substantial food all day, I decided to try to find something outside the grounds. So after a horrific drive up here (in rain and traffic), I ventured back down the mountain at 11 p.m.. I drove to the town a couple miles down and everything was closed. I drove to the next village—closed—even gas stations. I drove to Fogelsville—also closed, but I turned and found a 24 hour Shell station . Man—20 miles or so on dark winding mountain roads—mist, deer, fog and I drive like I am in Texas or something. It amazed me I could have an ounce of fear. Most people I know would be terrified of half the things I do! But I like adventure, I guess. I did this hour long trip with no cell phone either. I prayed but that was it. The childhood adventurer lives, even if the free spirit is in question.

It’s good seeing everyone. At this point I have a whole group of northeastern Shachah friends and we just embrace with delight when we see each other. It’s exciting. Lisa from Long Island told me they are doing a conference in the spring and I HAVE to come—have to. Oh, Lisa—if I am out of CA I bet I can, we’ll see. I like Lisa.. I realized tonight she reminds me of Shelly. I’m sure that helps me like her more.

Being here only reinforces how much I hate the city. Yes, I want to leave Los Angeles. When I think of going to Texas, even though I don’t think I get to go home, I get excited. Texas is home anyway. But I love my church. I’m not really torn about leaving LA—only the church. I’ve talked to God a lot about that—in between wrestling with Him. It’s all on the surface now. I’m in truth at least—I realize what it is and have words in my head. Appropriate time as this is the early day of November 7, 2003—and it was 6 years ago to this day that the truth set me free.

11/7/03—It’s morning on the mountain. I opened the door to the outside and finally saw it again—and I stood there and cried.

“Deliver me!” I said to God.

This is my favorite place in the whole world. I’m writing this on a mountainside. I’m on my way to the dining room, but I needed a moment first. I’m going to read Psalm 5 and get on with my day.

11/7/03—later (after a conflict that left me a bit shaken regarding my moving, etc)

God sends a rescuer—it came in the form of Katie who works here—the one who offered me a job here last summer. As usual I started yapping—and she was so very encouraging about my doing what God wants. Of course I can’t tell anyone the depths of this, but it helped anyway, I don't think it was even all she said—though it was encouraging, but I think it was the acceptance that followed the condemnation. But she did say one thing I found very interesting—she said EXACTLY what Pastor Darrell and Pastor Jerry said to me. That really struck me—I think especially after what had just happened—it struck me as no coincidence that she would say the same thing. I forgot that that comment from Pastor Darrell and Pastor Jerry was what encouraged me so much because it released me from being trapped and condemned—it brought hope. So even more I think I appreciated it after feeling that awful trapped and confused feeling. So Katie was sent from God today—perhaps a friend—we’ll write. I love this place SO much. I want to come back. I’m hoping to get back before next year. This will depend on where I live for sure, and where I am visiting. I need this mountain. I can’t say enough good things about it. And it’s nice to have a friend here. But God did that. For all my God [stuff]. I recognized Katie—and her precise words.

11/7/03—still later

Put me away in the mountains and it is a safe bet I will be writing often! … Now I really think I am going back to Texas. It hit me in the evening service. Pastor Michael was speaking—though I admit I wasn’t listening closely. I was laying behind the book table and it was so odd because I was thinking of Pennsylvania and realized, I have to leave LA-I must have peace in my life again—in my world. LA will never slow down and I don’t want to give into that mentality. I love this mountain and while I can’t live here (maybe someday) it reminds me of what is important. And something else has happened. It happened in Texas, too, a few weeks ago. I find that I can really impact the people around me. I see myself making a difference--even ministering to people. And the strangest thing hit me tonight in this same moment as I lay there behind the book table—I was having a conversation with Lisa and she as sharing so much with me, but we didn’t get to finish. All of a sudden I was overcome with an urge to pray for her—I mean overcome. I literally HAD To start praying in the Spirit for her. It was very short but it was rolling off my tongue. I can’t remember the last time I prayed for someone out of PASSION like that…. This wasn’t rote. I see this and I see the way I could relate to people in Texas—and I know I have to go back. I pray for mercy in case I’m double blowing it, but I think the fact that everyday life in LA is such a matter of SURVIVAL precludes, very often, the outreach and passion I used to have. In fact, I think tonight is the first time in over three months I WANTED to really pray for someone. The same thing happened here that happen in Texas in October. I got here and became ME again. It’s still in there but how long will it last if I stay there [in LA]? No one may ever understand, but I have to live it. It’s like I told Katie—if you present something to a Christian that could be right and follows the Word and you come at it with passion and excitement, they will, nine times out of ten, buy into it right along with you. She agreed. I want to prove it. I’d love to do research on it. We as Christians all WANT these things to be what we want them to be. But that doesn’t mean it is God. Pastor Jerry is the only one who saw a clue of it….I’ve grown attached to the church and hate to leave, but let’s be frank—that’s my pride. I know if I stick around long enough I will finally be a leader in dance ministry. I look around here at the leaders I know. Some are mighty people of God, but others, most are just normal people—some people don’t have it as together as I seem to in many areas. It really makes me wonder—sometimes I feel like the loser of Shachah—why am I still the follower? Anyway, I need to sleep I guess. I’m really not very tired. I guess the mountain energizes me. I’m getting up early to be alone outside. It’ll be around 20 degrees, but if I have to drive around to keep warm it will be worth it. At some point I want to hit the prayer chapel too. But mostly I want NATURE. I wonder if I’ll ever live here… but maybe it’s better this is a utopia I do not shatter. Maybe it’s still so good because I didn’t haul off and run up here. If I can get back to Texas at Christmas, I will try to come back at spring break. This is my heart’s resting place. Maybe I’ll try working here a summer or something one year. But I think I will always come here. When I come here I touch God—and I see beauty unlike any other—what else is there?

You know I don’t analyze things like if I do or don’t want to pray for people or ministered to them. It just happens—I go with my gut. An the fact is, in LA my gut is not there. If I HAVE prayed with someone or minister to them, it’s felt like obligation or that I had to for some situational reason. There’s been zero passion. I don’t work that up or not. It’s either there or it isn’t—it seems to me that being at peace, that experiencing joy, that feeling you are operating in who God made you to be ought to be at least SOME prerequisite for knowing you are in the will of God.

I’m waking up in 6 ½ hours. I have to SLEEP! I don’t want to lose a second of this time, this place. Even some of my spiritual confusion subsides here. The very thing I went to LA for I can have, to a very nice degree, by visiting—the rest is dust….

On my mountain everything seems clearer.

11/9/2003—But it’s actually only 1:06 a.m. so I haven’t been to sleep from the 8th! I can’t write much now because it’s so late, but I’ve had a blast today. We had flag stuff so other than helping people with flags, I had lots of time to hang out. I’ve had lots of laughter today. I began the day at the prayer chapel, then collecting leaves, then driving the countryside. We had a powerful service tonight. I played the tambourine so hard I got a blister. I also felt like I did some real warfare. Being here has made the job and everything else seem worse in light of what is so good. I guess it’s a good thing I just had a moving disaster; otherwise, I would probably pick up and move here. One day I will spend a long time here—even a summer job would work, but I long to be here for Christmas, in snow, in front of a fire.

11/9/2003—

It’s the last day here—RATS! Have I mentioned yet how very much I LOVE it here? I am kind of a zombie today from my late night. The conference is ending; the ministry is over; I’m packed up and ready to go after lunch. It’s been great, of course. There’s only one thing I don’t like about Shachah conferences (besides sweating). It’s hard for me to come year after year to conferences across the nation and see the light come into peoples’ eyes, see them HUNGER for more of this and know I can offer Shachah principles and instruction (at some level) to them. And yet I can’t do it. I see people launch into ministries and bring their teams. I try to say it doesn’t matter, but it DOES. The point is, it can’t be my reason (Los Angeles), but it does matter and to say it doesn’t is to say God wasted three years of my involvement in this ministry. It matters. [I might] even form a team, an interdenominational team. I will do whatever I can and stop trying to make it happen in a church. It matters. And if I know I have the opportunity to continue with Shachah I will dedicate myself to learning more tambourine, dances, and flags—I will be prepared. It’s hard when you don’t have hope.

It’s a funny thing because I am in the lousy surrealistic dream and yet I feel like something’s going to change—where that shred of hope comes from is beyond me. Perhaps it’s fantasy—surrounded by Shachah, worship, my passion—who knows… I don’t want to go home, but the fact is my life is on hold til I get there. I feel more sure than ever that I need to go back—my only regret is the church. But I can’t sustain it alone—if I were married it would be different, but without consistent emotional, physical (even if it is just natural affection—I don’t mean marriage) and spiritual support I can’t do this. I keep seeing myself laying on the floor behind the Shachah table realizing I need this peace, I need to go—such a quiet and spontaneous moment, yet defining in my heart. My heart longs for a quiet life. I wonder where I’ll end up. I pray it’s just a place of peace and hope with God, too…

11/9/2003—I HATE long flights. Hate, despise—YUCK! I am thankful I can get where I need, but I am FERMENTING somewhere around the Midwest to the West. Looking out the window reveals not even city lights. The inflight movie barely ended—I hope it was a long one—my only clock is on the cell phone I can’t turn on. We could be anywhere between one hour away (tolerable) and over 2 (NO!!!!). In the end I look back at this year’s Blue Mountain trip with happiness. It was good. I’m in my element and I love it. I got choked up when I drove off the mountain. It’s not easy to leave when I know what I’m returning to.

I spent my last little bit of time talking with Katie—and then her husband Mark, also. Katie and I are staying in touch. I’m glad—I really like her and discovered Mark is a neat guy—very special people. It would be nice if this developed into more of an actual friendship—which I believe it could. I still talk about coming back one day—and I think I’d be welcomed. Someday. I need my mountain. I’m realizing how many friends I have scattered around the country because of Shachah. From Long Island to southern Arizona—from New York City to Norman, Oklahoma, I have real, developing relationships. It’s very neat.

It was easy saying good bye because I’ll see them all in three weeks for the wedding. And I’ll be back. I love the church but I can’t stay in LA. I need a quiet life. I honestly find it more appealing to live in QUITMAN!

I wish I knew where we were and what time it was. I slept a little which is good, but it wiped me out. I don’t even have energy to write all I wanted to catch up on! I need OFF this plane! Six hours—but, praise God, Erica (Crocker—the Hillsongs lady who was at our church) had it right. On my crowded flight I have an empty seat next to me. Wow! What a blessing. She said that happens to her a lot. On the way there they switched the plane and I got the nice seat with no one across the aisle and the soft back. So IF you have to have a disgusting flight it’s been the best conditions. But by golly, I need to a) walk b) talk 3) find a job! I’m guessing Arizona or New Mexico—scattered lights below. If we were on CA there would be no lights in the desert until just before we begin our descent…. How will I ever survive international travel?

A random insertion from my midnight dinner with Beverly (Oklahoma) at the pizza place—they had a country channel on the TV and some country song came on and I actually swayed to the beat. It was a scary moment. I think what most people would find surprising is how many similarities there are between East Texas and northeastern Pennsylvania. Shachah is rebooked for next year so I will be here barring anything unusual. But I’d like to get back sooner—spring break, a long weekend—anything. The mountain—in all my pain and crisis—drove me to God. That alone is enough of a reason to go back to East Texas or another similar place. Country living is looking mighty good (she says as she approaches Los Angeles).

A post-journal note on the flight: My time estimation was awful. We had over 2 hours when I wrote that—so we were probably near Nebraska. That flight was NOT fun.