I've been thinking a lot lately about the goodness of God. I gave a talk a couple of weeks ago about where God is in suffering and what our response to suffering should be. Suffering is something that my family knows well as it seems we have had more than our fair share of it. In writing that talk, I had a chance to look again at how good God has been to us.

I'm learning that He doesn't cause suffering, and He sure doesn't need suffering to make his purposes known, but that He uses these instances to push us. To give us a chance to experience the pain of growing to be more like Him. And in that process to come to know the freedom of His grace.

I think the most amazing thing about all of the suffering we've endured as a family: we still exist. It hasn't killed us. Sure, we each have our issues as the messiness effects each of us in a different way, but we are all still here...working through the crap...and mostly clinging to Jesus.

Psalms 119:50 says "My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise perserves my life."

In the midst of the brokenness, the crap, I often feel like I'm not going to make it. I wonder where God is and why he is once again allowing this type of experience into our lives. The cool thing? I can look back on past situations and see that God HAS perserved me. HAS protected my family. And in cool, often small, ways has redeemed us, healed us, showed us some of his grace.

I have this awesome, little nephew --okay he's not so little--that I believe to be one of those little gifts that has brought healing to our family. He entered this world in a fashion that resembled suffering, but as his story goes, God protected him so that he could bring reconciliation, a true understanding of love, healing to certain areas of our family. He's only three, and he's already changing the world. The goodness of God? I think so!

thoughts for today

in my last entry, i mentioned trips down memory lane. i'm currently packing my life into boxes only to be stowed in the spare room until they can be whisked off to the land of my new residence. as i've dug to the back of my closet shelves and into boxes that have been sealed for years, the darn memories have impeded my progress. pictures of high school friends, letters from students, old year books and scrapbooks my mother spent hours making....

i stop every few minutes to read what falls into my lap--letters from those boys at camp, the articles I used to write for the college newspaper...it's never ending and very little is making it into the boxes.

however, we did paint my new bedroom today. calabash is the color. i like the cheerfullness it adds to the room.

and i'm in love with the new Jason Mraz album...i could listen to it for hours...oh wait, i already do!

computers are dangerous. they promote procrastination in the most crucial of times. old journals can also be dangerous. refreshing in that they give you a glimpse at how you've grown; what you've made it through to get where you are now. but dangerous in procrastination and saunters down memory lane which we all know i'm getting quite good at. the good use of my time is fairly imperative at this moment, yet here i sit with a computer and several old journals. my attempts to build something worth sharing out of them --something that might be relevant to a bunch of college kids about to embark on 7 life changing weeks. i long for more than relevance. i want connection; understanding; challenge; encouragement. it's this longing that keeps me from putting words to paper; keeps me searching and connecting the pages of my journals. and every few minutes turning to my computer for a small distraction. procrastinate no more.

requests for june

For those of you on my IV mailing list, the following is the prayer update I promised. For those of you not on my mailing list, let me know if you would like to be:

Pray for:
--CityLights..our 21 summer interns have now been on campus for a week. pray for them to bond as a team, and to have their eyes opened to God's heart for justice and mercy in the heart of the city.
--I have already been having some significant conversations with students. I do not want to break confidentiality, but I do want to share that during one conversation, I almost ran up the steps to find my supervisor who happened to be visiting because I was so scared. I kept thinking "I'm not campus staff. I don't know how to to have these hard, deep, thoughtfilled conversations." Instead I grabbed a Bible and engaged in the conversation. The Lord totally used me (somehow) and actually in those few moments rocked part of the picture that student had of Him!
--Continued conversations!
--I'm giving my first ever IV talk next Thursday evening. It's exciting, but a bit nerve-wracking too! Pray that I will communicate clearly what God has for this talk, and that I will not be nervous.
--On a personal note: my three year old nephew is coming to spend a week with me. I'm very excited, but this will be the longest he's been away from mom and dad. Please pray that he will be comfortable, maintain a routine of some sort, and have a great time!
--juggling work, upcoming CA trip, and house/apt move.

shooting the moon...

The score was 19-41. My inability to take risks had set us at the very beginning of the game, and now, we were one point, one hand, away from losing. The opening bids made their way around the table, coming to a halt when my father (who also happened to be my partner) said, “We’re going to shoot the moon in hearts.” I took a deep breath and exchanged my unsuitable cards for new ones as Norah Jones crooned “shoot the moon and missed completely” in my head. The tricks began. We took the first, and the second, and the third. With no more hearts to play, Raina went out. We took yet another trick, this time with the triple-pointing “3”. One more trick; Grandpa out. Dad held one more card. The jack, and the last of the points we needed! We shot the moon and landed! Coming from a 22 point deficit to win the game!

what I did this weekend...yes, I am a domestic goddess

totally fashionable

Being the anti-morning person I am, I often catch myself dressing last minute in the dark. I thought I looked especially cute today (at least I was feeling cute) so imagine my surprise when 6 hours after I had left my house, I looked down at a student that was near my feet and saw this:

so begin the mowing wars

I live in an L-shaped building (on the left in the picture) that faces another L-shape to make a U-shape with a big yard in the middle. When the spring rains come, the grass skyrockets. The two buildings are owned by different people which means that ownership of the lawn is also divided. Of course they have to use different lawn care services, and of course, those services don't mow on the same day. If you notice in the picture, the right side is freshly mowed while the left stands a good 2 inches high and is over run with dandelions.

The Shack

Upon recommendation from a close friend, I picked up The Shack by William P. Young unsuspectingly excited about delving into a new read. With only four chapters left, I'm walking away astounded at the way Mack (the main character) met God and how Willie (the author) was so eloquently able to recapture the story. The question "Where is God on a world so filled with unspeakable pain?" permeates at the heart of Mack and God's interactions, continues right off of the pages, and penetrates the depths of my soul. The following are some snippets, but I highly recommend them in the full context of the book.

A bird's not defined by being grounded but by his ability to fly. Remember this, humans are not defined by their limitations, but by the intentions that I have for them; not by what they seem to be, but by everything it means to be created in my image. -Papa (God) to Mack

It's the one reason why experiencing true relationship is so difficult for you. Once you have a hierarchy you need rules to protect and administer it, and then you need law and enforcement of the rules, and you end up with some kind of chain of command or system of order that destroys relationship rather than promotes it. You rarely see or experience relationship apart from power. Hierarchy imposes laws and rules and you end up missing the wonder of relationship that we intended for you. -Jesus to Mack

Mack, just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors.

To lay in a white, wooden bunk bed next to an open window secretly listening in on the conversations of the birds. To perch on the bench on the hill overlooking the lake and sneak smiles at the turtles poking their heads above water. To hike the trail, in the rain. To find delightful little surprises like new ferns, ant hills the color of fire, the grandfather tree, the swamp. To wander in the forest and wonder at the creativity that came from our Creator. To experience some peace. To lavish rest. To find contentment for the soul.

memories from the womb

At one of the schools where I teach, I have a class of 4 and 5 year olds. In that class, I have a set of twin girls who are absolutely hilarious. The following is a a quote from a story that one of the girls was telling me this morning:

When we were in Mommy's tummy, Mommy would eat broccli and we would play catch with it. Then one day we decided we wanted to come out of Mommy's tummy. I said "I want to go down the big slide first." Sissy said, "No, I want to go first." Then I said, "No, I want to go first." Then Sissy said, "No, I do." So I said, "Okay, you can first." Then Sissy went "Weeeeeeeeeee," all the way down the slide. I went down the slide after her. I remember.

mind. body. soul. it takes them all to run the race

It was a frosty morning. A large growl escaped me when my computer flashed the current 37 degrees outside. I wanted with all of my being to throw the covers over my head and escape back into my overactive dreams. But it was 6:15, my mind was awake, and the gun for the 5K would sound at 7:30. My alert mind jerked my body into action, and soon I was scraping the thin frostiness off my car and driving into the sunrise.


Since registering for the 5K, I had dreamed of what the race would be like; somehow I had thought that running with hundreds of other people would motivate me. That I would have some sort of supernatural energy spurring me around those runners in front of me. I failed to dream about the start and finish lines which became very quickly the most exciting points of the race for me. After using a quiet, warm corner of a close building to stretch and pray for protection from death (okay, I'm being a little melodramatic), I found my way to the starting line where I waited in anticipation with about 800 people.

Before I knew it, I was being squished by a whole lot of people I didn't know as we tried to herd ourselves through the relatively small entrance to the race...you know, the one that triggers your chip to start recording time. The next moments are blurs of crowds, yellow-shirted volunteers, and really old worship songs that kept creeping into my head. It wasn't until the middle of Mile 2 that I really felt like I wasn't going to make it. It took everything I had to avoid plopping down onto the grass! Just as I was thinking that I was running too slow to make my 40 minute goal, a man passed very close to me and whispered, "You're doing a great job. Keep going." He didn't look at me. Didn't stop beside me. Just a simple word in passing followed by a thumbs up a few steps later. I caught my body picking up my pace, and my mind giving thanks to God for the middle of the race encouragement from a stranger.

As I finished Mile 3 and neared the finish line, I decided I didn't have it in me to pick up pace and finish any stronger than I was already running. However, I rounded the corner to the finish line and immediately heard my name "Go, Miss SALMOND!" It was Andrew and Katy and the kids. Just after spotting them, I noticed the finish clock said 34 minutes! My body must have extracted energy from the cheering and the clock as it picked up pace again without my even thinking about it.

My official chip time was 33:58, and I finished 192/567 women which is in the top third. My dreams of the race were nothing like what actually took place. It was much harder mentally than I thought it would be...much colder...and there was a greater feeling of accomplishment than I imagined! Would I do another? Ask me when my body has recovered. When my mind is fully prepared. When my soul needs that kind of nourishment.