all the time everyone everywhere everything

we all well know
we're gonna reap what we sow
but Grace, we all know,
can take the place of all we owe
so why not let's Forgive
everyone
e v e r y w h e r e
e v e r y t h i n g
a l l t h e t i m e ?

So I may miss the mewithoutYou show on Sunday. It's worth it to me to get my shift covered... I mean, I've never missed a live performance since I started listening to them in the 9th grade. but I also have greater plans for next week that I shall not speak of just yet. I can barely keep it a secret. But someone should congratulate me on how discreet I've been, because the person I'm deceiving doesn't know, and therefore can't feed my ego in such a way.

. . .

Grace took the place of all we owe! I've sowed some very bad seeds. I've done it without telling anyone, just little seeds that I hope no one notices, like tiny drifting thoughts. And sometimes I'm much more obvious than that, looking people in the eye. I've done so many wrong things, I owe so much-- my life-- to get right with God and with everyone and everything, but what I could never accomplish, HE did for me with his blood flowing out of Him, nailed to a deathtrap of wood.
Grace took the place of all we owe! How can you think about that and not get up and dance or jump or shake your head, or do SOMETHING to express what has happened for you to be alive, really alive? Have you thought about it, really thought about it, not just let your eyes glaze over the words, so it sort of washes over the surface of you? Have you let the thought go deep? I often don't because it's so inconvenient. I mean, how can I get anything done if I'm thinking about the enormous act of sacrifice and love that was spent on me.?
How does life have any purpose if I'm not thinking about the enormity of His love for me?

He watches over your every breath, and this is a wonderful, wonderful thing. Sometimes I think about how amazing it is that this little mass of tissue inside my ribcage is pumping and pumping and pumping, and if it ever stops the whole system will shut down. And its been pumping every hour, every day, for 20 years, and I'm still alive. I'm a self sustaining, breathing, thinking, emoting, learning being. And if the rest of the world with me weren't being shaped in His hands this very moment it would all fall apart. I prefer to think of it this way. Kierkegaard wrote something I'm sort of in love with:

"If there were no eternal consciousness in a man, if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment, a power that twisting in dark passions produced everything great or inconsequential; if an unfathomable, insatiable emptiness lay hid beneath everything, what would life be but despair? If it were thus, if there were no sacred bond uniting mankind, if one generation rose up after another like the leaves of the forest, if one generation succeeded the other as the songs of birds in the woods, if the human race passed through the world as a ship through the sea or the wind through the desert, a thoughtless and fruitless whim, if an eternal oblivion always lurked hungrily for its prey and there were no power strong enough to wrest it from its clutches -- how empty and devoid of comfort would life be! "

I'll pump my fist to that.

I don't know why I'm writing about such lofty things. I think I need to. I've been apathetic for a while, and it's pretty awful to live in a way that tends to be mechanical and reactive.

. . .

I heard a really great interview with Tom Robbins the other day. It made me want to write, because I haven't for months. He, like me, began writing when he was very young, and even was published in the second grade in the school newspaper.


--a short outline of my history with writing--

A.
The other day I remembered how I was eliminated in the 5th grade spelling bee because the English teacher dictating the words, Mrs. Howe, didn't know how to read. Way to live up to your name and your job, Mrs. Howe.
The English language is a tricky thing. And sometimes its best to not over analyze it and to trust your gut in the usage of words and pronunciation. This is a lesson she should learn. She pronounced my word, posture, in a way she thought was proper: pos-tyure. It sounded like an alien word to me, I had never heard it pronounced that way in my life. I didn't even get it in context.
I don't know how I misspelled it, but it doesn't matter. It's the principle.
I just looked on m-w.com and the robot voice told me it is indeed pronounced "pos-cher". I could hold on to this, but this will be my final word on the matter.

B.
A few hot summers ago in Phoenix I dug my first grade journal out of my closet. And I was surprised to find my first short story I ever wrote in my life. Here is a digital reproduction, holding to the integrity of the original spelling.

--a story by Kayla Smith, six years old--

Once apon a time in 1996 there lived a women and her dagter the womens name was lisa the little girls name was kayla one day it was kayla's birthday she got a soylers [cellular] phone a T.v. a hot air ballone the movi pocahantes the movi toy story a video game a barbi and best of all a red cape.
she ran to the three bears drank the porige nono I mean well lets just say she lived happily ever after like little red riding hod the end
[illustration of a banner reading "happy birthday", presents on the floor, and kayla holding a cape with the word bubble "a cape ! ! !"]

Well not Actchaly but a rrrrokan roll [rock and roll] bear. I mean wolf shure came running up to Kayla.
He actchaly had a gutar.
She'd never seen somthing like this in her hole life. She gave a loooud scream. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh.
That's only two more letters then the hole Alphebet. Lets count
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29.
[illustration of wolf holding guitar and kayla/little red riding hood standing in the forest.]

Once apon like I mm mm mmm liki I mean like I just said well let me just tell you I'll tell you the rest of the story. Ok "not ok"
what you dont want to listen to the rest of the story
"of course not."
Do you mean you do or you don't want to.
"I'm just saying well I don't want to tell you".
So lets just turn the page and find out the rest of the rest of the story and evrey thing else ok
"not ok".
Hey this is my story ok. By.
[illustration of two girls standing in front of a building with a sign reading "I love Home Sweet Home". clouds and birds surround, with a bright sun.]

Well little miss riding hood What well lets just find out the udvenchers of kayla ok on this mornign news. Wait wait turn the chanel hey I make mastakes all the time waiaiaiaiaiait this isn't saposed to haaapen wait. Don't make this point wrong
hey you you I mean the porson ho's readin here hey I ment do'nt watch.
[illustration of a person on a couch next to another person with weird hands, standing, and a girl in front of both of them waving her arms saying "Hey porsen dont watch"]

Whew what a relefe now lets find out wh. "I'm baack"
yooou get out a here ok by chow odios see a latar I like babar.
Nothing's going to stop me now. I said now so chow by. o'k now listen o'k little red ridding kayla or hood say it your way ok
now like i just said kayla sh'e groow she's 19 alredy and she's an artist her's one of her pikchers.
[illustration of a boy wearing a baseball cap throwing coins or something to a girl who is catching them.]

O'K O'K O'K she's not 19 o'k "not o'k".
Hey like I siad Hey this is absalootly posativly not your story its mine.....
mine mine mine o'k don't say not ok
huh "huh" o'k why'd ya say huh
o'k the next page is another story "now that's what I want" realy
"ya realy I wanted that all along" so that's what you wanted "ya so I didnt want to hurt your feeling's" o'k so we figurd it out byby.

(I didn't actually have an alter-ego at 6, it was purely fictional invention. Okay? "Not okay.")

C.
In the fifth grade Cassi and I used to write stories about dogs who were basically humans. I published two works, one titled "Sammy the Brave Little Puppy" and one "Misty in the Mountains". And I was working on the manuscript of another one, which I never finished.