Adios, 2012

This year. Man, I don't even know what to say about it. This was not my happiest year. One of my worst, actually. I tried and failed more times and in more endeavors than I want to count. However, this was a learning year, full of hard lessons and tough truths. I learned a lot about my self, the people in my life, and my faith in God and His timing. Even though it's been kind of a rough stretch of road, I have done some pretty interesting things this year. I dropped out of school, got my GED, spent my summer, fall, and winter working in a retirement home, cut my own hair, applied for my dream job in Ethiopia, learned to knit, ran my first 5K, followed three ridiculous diets, learned to drive, and got all my hair cut off. I'm looking forward to the new year. I will apply for college in January, travel alone internationally in the spring and summer, move in with one of my best friends in August, and work hard to become an elementary school teacher for children in developing countries. I never imagined that this would be the direction of my life. I still wish I was moving to Ethiopia. Oh, I wish it more than anything. But I have to trust. And I have to be optimistic. Sometimes the best thing is not the one we want, but the one that will bring the most good in the end. A new year is here, and it's time to be brave and run right into it.

The 100th New Plan

So...News Flash: I am going to college. I said I would probably never go, but it seems like whatever I say lately, the very opposite is bound to happen. I realized something that broke my heart about a week ago: maybe I'm not meant to run away to Africa...Yet. It is all I've wanted for such a long time, it really shook my world up. I still miss Ethiopia more than anything, but I can't have everything I want. Unfortunately. It feels like every big dream I have turns to dust as soon as I get close enough to almost reach it. It hurts, but as a result, I've gotten pretty darn good at dealing with this whole failure thing. Oh, I should probably mention why I decided that college is necessary. I realized that if I truly want a prosperous future in which I impact maximum number of lives for the better, I need more education. I was struggling when God brought these things to my attention, and I argued that there was nothing I loved enough that I could study in college. But, things were cleared up pretty quick when The Lord told my heart "Maddie, you love to teach; you always have. You need to be a teacher." And there it is. I want to be a teacher. Crazy! If you've learned anything from reading my blog, it is that I cannot write consistently, I change my mind (which runs at a hundred miles an hour) A LOT, and that nothing in my life is for sure. Not a darn thing. I sure wish that wasn't true. I am very nervous for college, not for the usual reasons, but because it means four years in the same place, going to school, like I said I never would. I just want to be happy. I try so hard to be. I am planning to travel this summer, so that should get some of the wanderlust out of my system for a little while. Anyway, those are a few things that are new in my crazy-not-crazy life. Thanks for reading. As always.     -mads

When Your Hiding Place Goes Missing

Lately, I've been deeply unhappy. Sometimes I'm just the sort of unhappy that I can just decide to overcome, and succeed when I choose joy over sorrow. But other times, I am overwhelmed with the deep heart hurt, that feels like an empty ache that starts in my chest and spreads through my soul. I have had a lot of the deep heart hurt recently. My instinct during these times tells me to hide. The hiding place I usually go to is an open field a mile from my house, where there was a huge stack of hay bales that thoroughly hid me from anyone who would glance into the field, as well as offered a sense of safety and anonymity. I liked to lay down behind them and look at the mountains and be completely alone. A few days ago, I needed to hide, so I went out to my hiding place. But it was GONE. It felt like that feeling, when you climb a staircase in the darkness, and you are sure there is one more step, but when you try to climb it, your stomach drops and your heart skips a beat as your foot falls through the darkness and lands with a thump on the same level as your other foot. I was quite confused, and actually very angry with whoever had come and removed my hiding place. It felt strange, but I walked out into the now completely exposed field, and lay down on some prickly dead grass. I watched a hawk glide low over the summer's no lifeless weeds, and listened to the highway breath in the distance. No more of this nonsense, I thought. I do not need to hideout of restlessness and discontent any longer. I am called to make the most of whichever situation I planted in, regardless if that is where I want to be or not. I want to go places and do things NOW, but I am learning a difficult lesson in patience. Even when we would give anything to be somewhere else, we must give everything to thrive where we are. 

News. Not The Best.

Today I got the aforementioned news. I thought it would be about my job description, but it wasn't. They told me that it wasn't safe for me to go to Ethiopia alone, and they didn't know where I would live once I got there. Their solution is that I must wait until a female between 18 and 25 years of age applies, and then we will travel and live together. They aren't sure how long I will have to wait, and that scares me half to death. I know this is for the best, but I wanted different news. I got off the phone, and I cried. I cried until my nose was clogged and I was hiccupping between sobs. I don't know why I felt so discouraged and sad, but I did, and I still do. I don't want to wait anymore! I'm sick of it. They say that when one door closes another one opens. It doesn't matter to me what doors open if I can't walk through them. I pray that that other woman, who ever she is and where ever she is, would feel called to missions work soon, because I so desperately need to live in Ethiopia. My calling, my purpose, and my future are on the other side of the world. The people I miss, the lives I long to innteract with, are all going on without me. I think that I will go on a few more short term trips, though I have no idea how I will raise the funds. I said that I would not go on any more short term missions, but now I will do anything and everything to be in Ethiopia. Maybe I'll go other places while I wait, too. I have no idea. Just when I was laying down a plan, it was torn out from under me. Reader, please pray for my sanity. Just imagining living and working where I do for an indefinite amount of time breaks my restless heart. This is for the best. This is God's plan. I certainly don't understand it, but I suppose He means well for me. I have no Idea what the next year will bring, but right now I don't have the courage to wonder. God will show me. 

Small News

I have news: in the next few days, I should be receiving my job description for my P61. After that, I will fly to Thompson Station Church in Tennessee for some assessment interviews. After that, I should know whether or not I get to move to Ethiopia. It would be easy for me to be overcome by anxiety, but I am choosing to trust God in all things, and that means that I don't hold the plan. I am only a vessel for the purpose of Christ. I have faith in Him; He's never let me down before, and quite frankly, I don't think He'll start now. I want an escape, an adventure, a wild and irrational dream, and I want it now. But I can't do that. It's my restless immaturity talking, and it would be a mistake to settle for anything less than the plan God holds for my life. These past few months of my life has been an exercise in waiting, and I will be very relieved when I finally know some details of my future. Please pry for me, and that whatever news I receive about my potential job in Ethiopia, that God's will would be done and that I would take it in stride with maturity and grace. 

Smoothies (Just For Fun).

I should really just quit my job at the retirement center and become a professional smoothie maker. Really. Oh wait, that doesn't exist. While I can't do that, I can share with you a few of my delightful (and healthy!) smoothie recipes.

Peanut Butter Chocolate 

Blend: 

1frozen banana

2 T peanut butter

1T unsweetened cocoa powder

A splash of milk, soy milk, or water

A few ice cubes

1 handful of uncooked oats.

Health Junkie

Blend:

1 C fresh spinach

A handful of frozen berries or strawberries

1 frozen banana

1/4 whole avocado

A splash of orange juice or water.

Avocado Delight

Blend:

1/2 whole avocado

1 frozen banana

A splash of vanilla soy or almond milk.

Healthy Pumpkin Pie

Blend: 

1 frozen banana

1/2 C canned pumpkin

1/4 whole avocado

A splash of vanilla soy or almond milk

Cinnamon and nutmeg, to taste.

As you can probably tell from reading these recipes, I'm all about avocados in smoothies right now. They are super healthy and help to thicken up smoothies as well as replacing dairy. Try one (or all) of these and let me know what you think!

 

Some Early September Thoughts.

How many times do I write about the waiting times in my life? How many times do I find myself in the midst of them? Often, yet here I am again. I don't have any new news concerning Ethiopia (yet),  but I haven't posted in awhile, so I just thought I'd share some thoughts and events of the waiting times of Mads.
-Something I'm learning: the purity of a quiet mind. Keeping your mouth closed is one thing, but to be truly quiet is a whole other deal. Even when my I'm not running my lips off, my mind shouts. There is not enough time to think each agressive thought, they all fight for command, so they run over each other and interrupt one another. So lately I've been trying to learn how to be quiet in both body and mind. It's more difficult than you might think in our culture of system overload and multitasking. However, when I am able to quiet my mind, there is a renewed clarity and gentle beauty to subtle things in life.
-Something I'm reading: The Elegance of the Hedgehog. Actually, I've already finished it, but it's too god not to mention. This book. Let me tell you, it's probably my favorite book I've ever had the pleasure of reading. The story of an upper-class appartment building in France, and the lives of its residents, mainly the concierge, Renee, and a twelve year old girl namd Paloma. The author, Muriel Barbery, has an intensely beautiful style of writing that is almost poetic. The original book was writen in French, and the translation into English while retaining the some of the patterns of speach of spoken French only add to its brilliance. This is an amazingly thought-provoking little novel, and I strongly recommend it to anyone. There are three copies at the Bozeman Public Library. You should read it.
-Something I love right now: Naps. I just really like to take naps a lot. I used to strongly dislike naps because I would go to sleep for an hour, and when I woke up, I thought it was the morning of the next day, and I had greatly overslept and no one had had the decency to wake me. Now, I get on just fine with naps, especially after a draining day at work. I come home, eat a snack, go into my room, take off some of my work clothes and fall into bed. Sometimes I sleep for one hour, sometimes I sleep for three. I get a lot of good thinking done before and after I fall asleep. There has been research done about naps, and the findings are that you should probably take one. They help with just about everything, from concentration to weightloss.
Well, that's about enough of this post. I could keep writing, but as you scrolled down over my seemingly endless and unrelated paragraphs, you would probably lost motivation and choose not to read any of them. So thanks for reading, keep thinking worthwhile thoughts and writing your own story.     -mads

Undeniable Rights of The Universe

Sometimes, life is bright and wonderful. Sometimes it's not, and when this is the case, we forget the light and shrivel up into human raisins of sadness. Why can't we find joy in all things and all circumstances? I've been thinking a lot about joy and contentment, their opposites, and their crucial role in our small but potent lifetime. Why aren't humans granted joy and contentment as undeniable rights of the universe? Why are both of these things elusive, and why must we put in so much effort to attain them? The simple answer, the easy answer that allows our brains a trivial and short-lived victory, is that we must work harder in order to attain these things, and that hard work causes us to live a fuller life. But what is a full life? Is any life lived not a "full" life? What makes it full? It became, it was, and then it ended. If joy and contentment were undeniable gifts to the human race, would we not consider every life a full one? In my understanding, the point of striving for a full life is to achieve a state of peace and lack of regrets about your life. But, if people were joyful to begin with, every moment would hold the significance necessary to generate contentment, and if we were naturally content, there would be no greed, no depression, maybe even no crime or broken families.  People would give freely of what they had, because they wouldn't be counting it and locking it in boxes they never open. Those who received it would feel blessed and thankful, because it was a gift they did not feel entitled to, given by someone who did not give it out of guilt, but out of joy. What would the world as a whole look like? I can't even imagine. Unfortunately, the chances of us experiencing this are not great. However, I am challenging myself to consider joy and contentment my undeniable rights as a human being, and whenever I am feeling dejected or greedy, I will polish the dust off these rights, reminding myself that they are mine if only I chose to use them, and exercise them to their fullest potential of the moment.

Another Step Taken.

Ladies and gentlemen, the world can be a most deflating place. I often find that hope takes more courage than hopelessness. If you do not hope, you don't feel the sharp cut of disappointment when those hopes are dashed. Hopelessness is full of sadness, but much more predictable than hoping. I was finally able to send my application for my job in Ethiopia last week, and with the hitting of the send button came a bubbling-up of mixed nerves and the feeling that this could be the thing that I've been dreaming of. I received an email today about scheduling an interview, and my heart skipped a beat as my dream took another small step towards reality. I don't know if I will get this job, but my goodness, I want it badly. They could have turned me down a long time ago, but they still haven't, and that has to mean something. It's so hard to trust God and keep hope intact when at any step in the process I could be turned down after hours of work, weeks of worry, and millions of prayers. But regardless of the outcome, it has already been an exercise in hope and faith. In a sometimes bleak and tiring world, exercises in hope are important. They teach us to strive for something better, to imagine a brighter life. Or, it teaches me that anyway. God has made the problem and solution of my life right now quite clear: Your heart is in Ethiopia. Go find it. So I said Ok, I will start the journey if you will show me what to do. And He has. Please pray for this journey that I have begun, pray that nothing would block my path, and pray that I never lose hope or the faith that God knows what He's doing.  -mads

Bon Voyage, Brother! (And Lizzy)

This morning at 6am, my brother, Walter, left for Ethiopia for the first time in his life. I am extremely excited to hear about his adventures when he returns. It is amazing to think that last year at this time, it was me getting on the plane, taking off for the happiest two weeks of my life. The two weeks that would force me to re-examine my future, and make some drastic descisions that would begin my long journey of trying to return to Ethiopia. One member of Walt's team is Lizzy, my neighbor/close friend/previous Ethiopia roomate. Last night Lizzy and I went on a long walk, and talked about all that she hoped to accomplish this time around, some ways it would be different from the previous trip, and how desperately I wished I was going with her and Walt and the rest of their team. When I came home from her house (where we like to watch the Olympics and hula hoop), the sadness I had been supressing for the majority of the evening finally built up and ruptured inside me. I wish it were me going back! People I know get to go back! Why is it so hard to just be where I so want to be? Thoughts flooded my head, I couldn't sleep, and so I lay in bed and cried, imagining that in the morning I, too, would be waking up far before the sun and boarding a plane that would take me back to the place I miss. At 11:30, I was almost asleep, but not feeling any better, my phone made the text message noise, and I looked to find a test from Lizzy, that sarcastic angel; 'just think, you'll be living there soon.' That was what I needed to hear. A reminder to be patient and keep working, because soon it will pay off and I will get to live in a place I never knew I would need to be. For now, I will work and trust and wait, and pray for my brother and friend as they encounter God in my favorite place on earth. Good luck, August team 2012! I wish I were there to learn and serve with you! I'll be praying.
-mads

Scissor Fever

You know that age-old rule, spoken from mother to daughter, and restated by children's books with hidden lessons? Thou Shalt Not Cut Thine Own Hair. It's a well meaning commandment, with the best intentions of protecting girls silky hair from scissors on the loose and keeping salons in business. Maybe I should have obeyed this rule, and not cut my hair at 9:30pm last night. But I didn't, and so...My hair looks fabulous! I did a pretty darn good job, if I do say so. Granted, I like to rock the messy hair look, and I might not have been this pleased if I had wanted something sleek and polished. How did I do this? I really just got scissor fever, and started snipping. First, I cut two inches off of the bottom, and then I cut in layers, beginning at the bottom and working my way up to the crown or the head. I cut the bangs and front in last, and then did a little extra snipping for good measure. I didn't know my home haircut would turn out this well, in fact, I thought it was going to be unbearably hideous, and so I had plans to go to the salon as soon as they opened in the morning and have a professional clean up the mess I had made of my head. I just wanted to see if I could cut my own hair, even if it looked bad. Kind of a courage thing, to prove to myself that hair is just hair. I'm actually really surprised that I don't look like a scarecrow or a ten year old. It's not the best haircut I've ever had, but since I did it myself, I'm not too picky. The picture on the top is the bathroom floor after the fact, and the second is me, post haircut.

 Ta-Da!

View From The Ferris Wheel

 

Last night, I went to the Gallatin County Fair. It was an absolute blast. Here's a picture taken from the top of the Ferris Wheel.

Future Avocado Tree

The first time I saw an avocado tree in real life, I thought it was a pretty genius invention of nature. Not only does it grow a super food, but it is a slender and lush green tree that is quite aesthetically pleasing. I found instructions on how to grow your own from a link on Pinterest.com. The one in my picture will never grow to be the size of the one I saw growing in Ethiopia, but still, it's and avocado tree. That's pretty cool. I had to write the note for it because my family is familiar with the chaos I leave in my wake, and I didn't want them to clean up after me and throw away my baby avocado tree without knowing what it was. It will take weeks to even start a tap root, but I'll try to post another picture of it when it does.

The Super-Cool Plan

Now, my friends, is the time for the great revealing of next years tentative plan. (NOTE: the plans contained herein are in no way definite or concrete, they are merely me acting on what God has told me to do). As many of you know, I had plans to go to Morocco in August, but those plans fell through on June 1st. For awhile I was overwhelmingly depressed, and had no idea of why in the world God would let me be so sad and confused. Things turned around pretty quickly, however, when I began to think, What if I just go to Ethiopia when I turn 18, like I have wanted all along? This idea seemed too good to be true, and so I just prayed about it. The more I prayed, the more possible it began to seem. About a month ago, I contacted a wonderful woman I had met in Ethiopia, and asked her if they needed any help. After a few emails, honest responses to questions, and many days of waiting, I am now filling out an application for a job in Ethiopia, doing the work of my dreams. The application process is super lengthy and involved, but I've found that one will do just about anything for something they love. If hired, the position will be volunteer only, so I will have to raise all of my own support through donations and fundraising. I don't mind though. I'm meant to live in Africa, and God will provide for me. Those two things are clearer to me than anything else in my life right now. I am really hoping to get this job; everything about it seems right, and the process that would usually seems tedious seems almost easy, and is going smoothly. I feel a sense of exhilaration and hope for the future. I am planning to leave in April, but who knows, they might need to wait a little longer in order to get everything I need done. It doesn't matter to me, as long as I am going to Ethiopia. I think about going back everyday, and everyday I seem to miss it more. When Jesus is in control, it is amazing what an impact two weeks can have on an open heart. The ugly picture you see on the top right side is a picture of my computer desk this morning, with all of the application papers so far (not including the five typed pages saved in the computer). If you any of you would be so kind as to say a quick prayer for me, and that God would give me this dream job, it would be greatly appreciated. This is the first step in a highly incredible journey. I'll keep you informed as I find out more details. Thanks for reading!

Finished Henna

This is my henna from Sunday minus the henna paste. Pretty neat!

Sunday Evening Henna!

Got a little carried away with the henna tonight. It's a bit sloppy because of the application technique, but I still think it will turn out alright after I scrape the paste off and put some coconut oil on it. Both feet took me a total of 2 hours-ish. Worth it!

I Am.

I haven't posted in awhile, and reason is because when I come home from work each day, I put on dirty clothes and stalk Facebook and eat, and then go to bed. It's pathetic, I am aware. But I realized the other day that if I want you to read my blog, you'll have to have something to read! Duh. So for awhile, or until I get tired of it, run out of ideas, or forget, I will be posting writing prompts, responding to them myself, and challenging you to write about them, on your blog if you have one, or just in a journal. I'll start things off with a prompt that requires a good bit of self-assessment, and it's called the I Am prompt. For this, you will need to choose just one word that captures as much of you as one word can, and justify it with a bit of writing. I'll go first.
I am brave, and I am nervous. I am loud, and I am quiet. No one person can possibly predict what each day will bring out in me. I am one of the happiest people I know, but I am also at times gripped with the fiercest pangs of sadness and feelings of despair. Some days I wake up and miss the company of friends, and other days I wake up blissfully content in the fact that I will not have to communicate with the outside world face-to-face. Sometimes I think about moving to a big city pulsing with life and interesting people, but more often than that, I wonder about the life of hermits, and how peaceful they must feel, completely secluded from the harshness and letdowns that accompany a life spent in community of others. I feel the most uplifting type of optimism, and the most gut-twisting types of worry and doubt. I am mysterious some days, and open book on others. I am a puzzle with pieces that don't fit together, a mystery novel that ended without a resolution. I am: An enigma.

A Green Hope

Feng Shui, the ancient Chinese art of using the laws of both heaven and earth to orient living spaces and attain a better life, uses colors to symbolize different emotions and attributes. The color green represents health, growth, vitality, and most importantly, hope. A few weeks ago, I was faced with news that nearly broke my fragile teenage heart. My travel plans for Morocco were getting extremely complicated, due to the fact that I'm under 18 years old. I can't travel unaccompanied, and this could have been worked around just to get me there, but then I found out that in order to maintain a valid visa, I would have to leave the country every three months, accompanied by an adult that had paperwork showing that they were not, in fact, kidnapping me against my will. Not only would this become greatly expensive very quickly, but it would have placed an impossible burden on the family I would be living with. So I have to make the decision not to go to Morocco as planned. I found out while I was at school, and I had to leave Algebra two to go and sob in the restroom, on the phone with my mom. This was my plan, my next year, the first of many incredible travel experiences, the thing that set me apart from my peers, my escape. And it had broken and fallen out from under me in the course of a day. I could have come home from school, but I stayed. I didn't want to be alone with this crushing sadness. I cleaned up my red and puffy face, and as I walked to my next class, a friend asked me how I was, "my dreams died!" I mumbled, and then he gave me a hug, and I nearly lost my composure. When that day was finally over, another friend, who can always tell when I'm feeling awful, came over and asked if I was alright, because by this point I'm pretty sure I looked like the wreck I was. I squeaked out a no, and when he gave me a hug, I broke down all over again and cried as I tried to form coherent sentences and explain myself. My friends proved their kindness to me that day, because they stood with me, and when I was a hideous puddle of falling-apart girl, they wrapped their arms around me and held me together. When God gives us too much to handle, we are forced to put our broken hearts in his hands and say "take it from here," and when we do, we can move past the end of something we thought was best, and into the beginning of something designed by heaven, something we shouldn't even try to understand. So, I will be in Bozeman, working my hind end off and not going to high school, waiting. I have no idea what the future holds, if I'll go to Morocco, or if something I haven't even thought of will make itself known. But back to Feng Shui, get me green paint, because this is a year of hope.     -mads

An Ode To Gramma's House

I have many things I should be writing about, things that should take a higher priority than these ramblings. Things like graduation, summer time, work, and next year. Next year will be a chapter of it's own, because I really do have a lot to tell you about that. But, for the sake of tasty writing and nostalgia, I'm going to write about Minnesota instead. For the past three days I've been hanging out in the suburbs and shopping malls nestled in the lush green jungle that is Minnesota. We (my mother, Walter, and I) are staying with my grandparents, as usual. Unfortunately, this will be the last night I will ever see the house that is so dear to me. My grandparents are moving. They don't want to, but this house really is too big for two people who really shouldn't be using stairs anymore. So I have to soak it in, and remember it forever. And I really will miss it. The doors that mysteriously open when the slightest draft blows through, the super fun laundry shoot, the screened porch lovingly built by my grandpa, the basement with more food than a small grocery store. I will miss playing cards with my cousins on the porch until midnight, and eating popsicles until our teeth stained, the big birch tree in the front yard that we all drew pictures and initials on, and the countless mornings of sugared cereal and cartoons. I will miss The Hoopdidoop very much. The Hoopdidoop is a character invented by my grandpa, Frank, who is similar in terror to the bogey man, and whose territory is limited to the cold caverns of the basement. I will miss everything about that house, and no matter who moves into it when they move out, in my heart and memories, it will always be gramma's house. And lastly, to The Hoopdidoop: Thank you for sparing my life on countless trips to the basement, and though we never met, you will cherished in my memories forever. Happy haunting.      -mads

Looking Forward to 8/21/12

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm not sure if I wrote this yet, but my travel date to Morocco has been tentatively set for August 21st. It's funny how, once there was a concrete date for my departure, the whole thing finally became real. I began work at 7am today, and survived only by slurping dangerous amounts of coffee through a straw each hour. I swear, Bozeman Lodge runs on Seattle's Best. In one day, I would guess the staff and residents drink about 10 gallons of coffee, if not more. By the time the lunch rush has ended, I'm shaking just a little bit, and reaching for the coffee pot just one more time. Now that I have a day set for travel, I am in the midst of the big game hunt for the cheapest airline. It's not going so well. I'm not willing to spend more than $1,500 on airfare, but as I scramble to earn enough money for the ticket, prices are slowly climbing, as they usually will when you least want them to. It is so difficult to trust that God will give me what I need, even though he's never failed me before. For me, if I'm not holding it in my hand right this very second, and can't calculate a reasonable way to get it by myself, I decide that it is impossible, and that I might as well just panic and die, since there is no hope. It's silly though, because I can never in all my life remember a time when I trusted God for what I needed and was left without it. I just need to let earth be earth and let heaven be heaven. Money is nothing. It will be alright. Please pray for me, and pray that I would continue to be blessed with what I need for this big adventure. I just wanted to let you all know when I will be taking off, so it doesn't come as a massive surprise later in the summer. I know this was pretty short and not super interesting, but thanks for reading!    -mads

Missing A Place

When you are forced to be far away from a place that your heart has claimed, you experience the purest form of "missing." When you must leave that place, your heart becomes so distraught that it breaks, and a piece of it falls down on the place that you fell in love with. Whether you visited that place for half your life of half a day, it doesn't matter, a piece of you is there, and the deal is done. When you try to tell people about that place and your overflowing love for it, they might not understand. They might tell you not to be dramatic, not to miss it anymore, not to feel like you belong anywhere other than the place society carved out for you. As time passes, your enthusiasm to go back to that place turns into a restless longing, like staring out at the ocean and straining your eyes for the opposite shore. You know it's there; Somewhere it is waiting. But you don't ever stop missing it, and the longing is still burning white-hot inside you, and no one can see it or feel the pain of it. These are my thoughts of Ethiopia. My dear, dear, Ethiopia. Two weeks is not a long time to get to know place. It was more like a long handshake with that place, and the invitation to come back and become friends another time. Yet, though it was a short time that passed far too quickly, it was enough. That two weeks was just the amount of time my heart needed to make itself at home in Ethiopia, and make a request permanent residence. When I was forced to deny this request, and go back to the United States, I could feel the pain as my heart bent and warped and cried out for the place I was leaving. I could feel it until it was too much, and then my heart blew up and smashed and fractured and splashed and bled out across every place I had seen and every hand I had held and every face I had looked into. The deal was done. I missed it before I was gone. It was only two weeks, but not a day goes by that I don't miss it. In the next few years I hope to go back, and let God spill even more of my heart out over that country. Until then, I pray every night that God will bring me back and use my life in a beautiful and selfless way. I know he hears me, because he whispers "be patient." And so for now, I practice patience, hope, and love, pursuing every experience God entrusts to this restless soul.

Something In The Air

Today, I am not at school. I was so exhausted mentally and physically after a non-stop week that I decided to rest. My departure for Morocco seems like it is years away, but really, four months is not a long time. I have two jobs, three if you count a weekly lawn-mowing for the neighbor, and the pickle jar on my dresser is slowly accumulating wealth. I can't believe how everything regarding this trip has fallen into place. Two weeks ago I was practically crippled with anxiety over how in the world I would earn a couple thousand dollars before August. Finally, the stress was so overwhelming that I did what I should have done initially: I gave up. This is not my plan, I thought, I cannot continue to pretend I am in charge. I let God take over, and the very next day, I was hired at Bozeman Lodge. As my favorite season in Bozeman approaches, I realize how much I will miss this place. Bozeman really is an incredible place, and I was never leaving because I didn't like it. In fact, I love it here. Something about the way the summer days last and last, or the way that anything seems possible on a bright, sunny day. There's something about the air, too, that I may miss most of all once I've left. The air in Montana is special. It's cleaner and brighter than the air anywhere else I've been. A visiting aunt from New York once joked to me that the air was so clean she couldn't breath. If you are observant, you will notice that the air is different wherever you go. In upstate New York, the air is wet, full, and almost always smells like rain and plants. The air in Minnesota is heavy, lazy, a bit dirty, and smells like cars, lakes, and suburbs. The air in my dear Ethiopia is smoky, mysterious, and the smells of foreign food, city smog, and thousands of people mingle together in a most enchanting way. But Bozeman is different. The air is purely translucent, crisp, combed through by mountains and trees and pooled into valleys. Maybe none of you feel this way, and maybe you think I'm silly for being so sentimental, and to you, air is just air. And that's alright, I am silly and sentimental, but when I go outside and take a deep breath, it's okay to be sentimental about air, because I think that if you can be sentimental about something as simple as air, there is no doubt that you will have life full of happy memories.     -mads

Worth It

My feet hurt so badly that I almost cannot walk. My fingers have blisters, and my eyes have dark crescents underneath them. I started my new job today at 7:45am, after having stayed up until one last night. I have plantar fasciitis in my feet, which, if you don't know what that is, is very similar to tendonitis, only on the bottoms of your feet. It's pretty annoying most of the time, but when I have to stand for long periods of time, it gets downright miserable to deal with. So, since my new job had me on my feet from 7:45am until 3pm, I'm not feeling too chipper. However, I'm so thankful to have a job, and as far as first days go, it went very well. When I got home, I changed out of my work clothes and into dirty jeans and a baggy T-shirt, and left to go mow my neighbors lawn with an old school push-mower that we found in a ditch several years ago. my neighbor hadn't mowed her lawn yet this year, and in places the grass was close to a foot tall. But I did it. I probably looked like and idiot, leaning my entire body weight into the mower just to make a foot of headway, but I live in a mobile home park, I'm not the only idiot out there. My fingers are a little blistered, and there will be no more walking or standing tonight, and that's okay, because it's almost time for bed. It's not very pleasant now, but I like earning what I want, and it will all be worth it when I'm handing my passport over to some lady with long acrylic nails on the other side of the airport counter, on my way to Africa. I love my life right now. Maybe I say that a lot, but I don't think that's a bad thing.     -mads

This Big, Funny, Weird Life

Hello! I have good news, and that good news is that I have two jobs! I got one job, working as a chiropractic assistant at Advanced Spine and Wellness, the chiropractic office run by my parents, and while I was thrilled to get this job, I knew that I would not earn enough money for next years adventure with only one job. I applied for what seemed like hundreds of places, but never got a reply. I became so discouraged, and when I thought of money, I would start to worry to the extent of hyperventilating. I prayed about it, and remembered that worrying gets me no further than I would be anyway, and decided to let it all fall into place the way it was supposed to. Friends, God is good. I got a call last night, letting me know that I had landed a near-perfect job in the dining room of Bozeman Lodge retirement home. I will be waking up at 6am every Saturday and Sunday, and my entire summer will be spent waiting on the elderly, mowing trailer-park lawns, and cleaning a chiropractic office, but hey, Africa is waiting. I used the calculator on my cheap cell phone to estimate how much money I would earn, and if it would be enough. Not only will it be enough, it will be more than twice enough. This surplus of funds is an enormous blessing, because Morocco isn't the only plan that I have in my future. In other news, I am going to the prom. My dear friend Will didn't feel that I should miss the high school glory that is prom, and so we are going; suit, gown, and everything. Except one thing: we, both being fashion forward, are wearing Birkenstocks to prom. I cannot attend after-prom because the next day I start work at 8am. There is really no way to label my life right now; I am a pre-high school dropout, wondering how I will do my hair for prom, when I can schedule in my GED test, and working two jobs to buy a plane ticket to the other side of the world. It's weird, but it's fun, too. I love this big, funny, weird life, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I will let you know all about my prom experience, and about the first day of work at my awesome new job. Keep me in your prayers, I need them! -mads

Best Thoughts Of Spring

Even if you're not wildly observant, you probably noticed that I changed the title of this little blog. I decided it was time for some blog revamping and refreshment. I chose this name first and foremost because I like the meaning of the word sage. According to the dictionary, a sage is a profoundly wise person, someone who is respected for their wealth of knowledge and experience. I know I am not wise, I am far from it and you don't need to remind me, but it's what I want to be, and it's what I strive for. I made it to say "sagebrush," because while the desire to acquire wisdom speaks to where I am going in life, I wanted something in the name to tie me to where I am from. I love the smell of sagebrush so much that when I was younger, and we would go on family hikes to anywhere where it grew, I would pick it by the handful and cram it into my pockets, so that I could still smell it after we went home. To me, it smells like Montana, and I like that very much. I like the new name, and I hope you do too. Anyway, yesterday was my birthday, and it was absolutely grand. My parents gave me a pair of Birkenstocks, and I don't care how ugly you think Birkenstocks might be, they are some darn comfortable shoes. My brother gave me books, which I am absolutely sure I will enjoy. We hiked up a mountain (or a very large hill), cooked a Mediterranean feast, ate far too much, and at the end of a blissful day, I was a whole new age. Fantastic. April has been a month of joy for me. The arrival of spring always makes my heart ecstatic, never mind that it snowed today and will snow many more times before summer. It's springtime, and that means hope, and joy, and the knowledge that in just over a month and a half, I will be done with high school. There are many other things on my mind that are making life joyous, such as the fact that I leave the United States for Morocco in around five months. I've also been thinking about what I want to do with myself after this year, and tentative wisps of possibility and plans are beginning to take shape. However, it's top-secret for awhile. Spring is here, and my enormous adventure is getting slowly closer, and I am finding new friends in unlikely places. I am peaceful, and happy, and now, I'm also seventeen.

Somebady Has To

Who loves Shel Silverstein? I do. He is a incredibly wise soul, and if you've read his volumes of children's poetry, you may agree that there is usually at least one deep thought that can be extracted and put to practical use. A few days ago I was sitting in Junior English, and as happens more often than it should, I was ignoring the project in front of me. The moment I had set foot in the classroom, my eyes glued themselves to A Light In The Attic, one of Silverstein's most well known collections of poetry. I spent the class period perusing his genius that had been stuck to paper, and thoroughly enjoying myself along the way. Many poems held my thoughts for a good many minutes, but one in particular stood out; it's a wonderful little poem that you too can enjoy, because here it is right below this sentence:

Somebody Has To

By Shel Silverstein

Somebody has to go polish the stars,
They're looking a little bit dull.
Somebody has to go polish the stars,
For the eagles and starlings and gulls
Have all been complaining they're tarnished and worn,
They say they want new ones we cannot afford.
So please get your rags
And your polishing jars,
Somebody has to go polish the stars.

How excellent is that poem?! When I read this, I loved it, because to me, it carries a deeper meaning than stars or a kick-butt rhyme scheme. I dislike poetry analyses as much as the next teenager, but in my opinion, this poem is a reminder to work towards a bright life, and illustrated in simple phrases a thought I have been thinking for awhile. Lately, I've noticed a lot of discontent in the people that surround me, and it saddens me. They are unhappy with their current lives, but, for lack of knowledge of motivation or something unknown, they sit in their discontent, hoping that the greatest of times will simply "come along." Forgive me if I'm being too frank, but the greatest of times and adventures and relationships have rarely come to the passive. My personal belief is that if you want a full life, you must be the one to fill it. You must work your tail end off for what makes your heart thrive. I am sharing this because I am trying to live my life this way, and it is hard. I have failures almost daily, and I am weak. But, I know without a doubt that it will be worth it when I can look back at my life and know that I made something beautiful out of these planet days. So, as Silverstein so wisely put it, "Please get your rags and you polishing jars, somebody has to go polish the stars."

-mads

Baby Sloths and Travel Blogs.

This week, I became obsessed with two things: baby sloths and travel blogs. These two things could not be less related, but both are equally charming. Baby sloths are quite possibly the cutest things on planet earth, and I desperately want to go work at a sloth orphanage (they exist!). As for the travel blogs, they simply aren't healthy for me. They are highly addictive, day dream inducing, and they make me feel that my life is completely flat and boring right at this moment and that the only solution is to get rid of everything that I own and put just enough what I need to survive in a backpack and buy a plane ticket and drive to the airport, all in one fluid motion. Unfortunately, that is out of the question right now. I am extremely excited for my great adventure coming up in less than 6 months (which is really not that long), but I am not excited for some necessary parts of preparation for it. Such as studying to take the GED test. I am beginning to think that the GED test is no laughing matter, since I checked out a 927 page tome of GED related information from the library, and found out that the test itself takes more that 7 hours to complete. I am also studying drivers ed manuals, with the goal of getting my license before I leave. I could have gotten it last fall, but didn't, because driving made me so nervous that I would forget every single piece of information I had gleaned from drivers ed and drive as much like a maniac as one can when refusing to drive faster than 30 mph. I decided to get over that, though, and just man up and get my darn license. Another thing I am not looking forward to in my near future is earning the remaining $2,000 dollars I will need for my trip. I know I shouldn't be worried; so far everything I've needed I've been blessed with. I think that having faith will be the most difficult part of fund raising. I don't want to complete any of these less-than-enjoyable tasks, but I know that these will make the end results all the more fulfilling. I hope you all had a restful weekend, and thanks for reading and staying up to date with my life. Sorry I don't have any wise of motivational phrases to share with you this week, but I hoped you liked reading this post anyway.  -mads

Me Of Little Faith

Greetings, everyone! I have an excellent update on the progress towards my trip to Morocco: I have acquired a laptop! I knew I would need one in order to keep in touch with friends and family and keep posting here, and so I had been praying that I would have enough money by August to buy one. Amazingly, when a family friend of ours heard about my plans for next year, she donated the computer to my trip; completely free! It is so perfect, and so tiny. It's a DELL mini, and it's basically an adorable travel-sized baby computer. I am so thankful, and also ashamed by my previous lack of faith. I can't believe I doubted if I would have all I need for this trip. If I'm truly meant to go, of course I'll have all that I need. Maybe not an ounce more than I need, but perhaps that's how it should be. In the spirit of having only what I need, I am trying to give away one possession every day for as long as I can. It's challenging!
     On an unrelated note, something funny happened to me today. As some of you know, I help out and occasionally teach Sunday-school for ages 3.5-5 years old at Journey church. This week I was scheduled to teach, and I was going to teach the story of the prodigal son. I was told I would be using props; a robe, a ring, money, and sandals. My mom said I didn't need to bring any of these things from home, because the church would already have them set up in the classroom. I needed these props for the end of the story, when the father welcomes his lost son home and gives him a fancy robe, a beautiful ring, and elaborate sandals. The money was for the beginning of the story, when the foolish son spends all of his inheritance. We got there, and there were indeed props, but not ideal ones. I was given a blue Snuggie, patent leather high heels with bows on the front, an enormous turquoise ring, and yellow monopoly money. I cannot imagine how ridiculous I looked as I told the story, throwing yellow monopoly money into the air while wearing the Snuggie backwards and the heels with my bunchy white socks wrinkling out of the top. If those children got any divine meaning out of that story, it was probably a miracle. Hilariously, the theme of the story was "forgiveness." I hope my Sunday-school children will take the lesson to heart and forgive me for my hideous interpretation of a Bible story. For those of us still in school: I hope all of you had a glorious spring break. hang in there, we've only got a little ways left to go. Work hard and make yourself proud.

When Dreams Turn Into Reality

I don't even know how to begin this post, or to put into words all that I have to say. Previously, I tried begin with something eloquent and wordy, but then hit delete because it turned into a jumble of words and letters and total nonsense to anyone who isn't a mind-reader. I puzzled and pondered on how to write this, but eventually decided I just might as well say it; if all goes according to plan, I will be living and working in Morocco next year. The "how" in this situation is lengthy and a little confusing, but the important details are that an acquaintance lives there with his family, they work at a school, they are Christians, and they could use some help. I'm quite certain that this is meant to be, because everything fell together in the course of around a week. I can hardly believe that I have the opportunity to do something so awesome. If you know me well enough to know that I am currently a junior in high school, you may be doing the math, and wondering "wait a minute, if she is going next year, doesn't that leave her with one year of high school incomplete?" Yes, yes it does. It make me cringe to write this next part, because I know what the usual reaction is to statements like this. The truth is, that in June of this year, I will be a high school dropout. Yikes. I know how that sounds, but I talked to my school counselor, and in April I can take the GED test, and in Montana a high school diploma and a GED have the same status. I've always dreamed of having an opportunity so perfect for me that it couldn't wait for me, and that I would have to erase my ideas about the near future and go. Now that that is actually happening, my mind can't wrap around it. I'd like to say that I'm not scared at all, but that would be a lie. I know that I'm meant to fly across the ocean and work my heart out, but I still cried a few tears when I learned that I will be a dropout. I also need to earn a couple thousand dollars, which doesn't make peace of mind any easier. However, I'm more excited about this coming year than I ever have been about anything in my life, because I know this is what I am meant to do. Anything and everything, the worries or inconveniences, will be worth it in the end. I will write and tell you all about this enormous adventure as I live it. Here we go!

The Gift Of New Dreams

Right now, is a "waiting time." In my life, waiting times are more frequent than I'd like them to be, and also cause me to break down emotionally due to the sheer stress of being without a clear path. Waiting times are to me what being hopelessly lost in the wilderness and running out of food is to most other people. Last night, I had one of those breakdowns. I have so many plans and worries and troubles for my near future, I want them ALL to work and I'm paranoid, what if they all fall through? What if my precious gold days are wasted, and I'm stuck in complacency and dull comfort and barred from the beautiful adventures I crave? These thoughts overwhelmed me last night; bubbled to the surface and then boiled over, and I was a pathetic blob, on the floor. My tears pooled and ran in salty streams down my face. I couldn't hold it together, and so I decided it would be best to just lay my little head and useless troubles down to sleep, at  seven o'clock in the evening. When I had washed the tears and makeup off, and put on my dumpy pajamas, I decided something; I didn't want to go to sleep feeling this way, so I assembled my army: my journal, The Bible, and my new favorite story, Kisses From Katie. I poured through the pages of each, and my faith and hopes that had been in a puddle several minutes ago took delicate and tentative steps forward. When I had exhausted my reading capabilities for the evening, I closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of my chair, and thoughts came and went, doubt came and went, worries came and went,  and dreams came...and stayed. New dreams, crazy dreams, real world-changing dreams. Beautiful, hopeful, straight-from-our-wonderful-Jesus dreams. I have so many prayers and some very big plans for next year, if God makes at least some of them possible. I would tell you what they are, but I can't right now, because if I did, you might never believe me, and then if they didn't work out, you'd all think me to be a liar. I promise I'm not a liar, though. I'm just not in control of this life I live in. I don't know where these new Jesus dreams will take me, but let me tell you what I do know: I no longer want to hold life, I want it to hold me, and for God to smile down over it all.      -mads

Valentines Day Challenge

Well everyone, it's almost here. That day of clashing pinks and reds and a plethora of heart-shaped everything. Yes, love it or hate it, Valentines Day is nigh upon us. Oddly enough, I'm one of the few single people who actually loves it. Most single girls, and some guys, hate Valentines Day, which frankly, I think is stupid. They say things to me like "Ugh, I hate it so much. All it does is remind me that I'm alone." While Valentines Day is generally meant to be romantically shared with a significant other, I don't think it has to be. I guess that's because for me, it never was. When I was little, February 14 meant eating chocolate with mom and eating Cheerios out of heart-shaped cereal bowls with Walter. Even though we don't do those things any more (sadly), the Hallmark holiday is special to me, even though pink and red aren't exactly a match made in heaven. If you are single (like me!), and are usually bummed when Valentines Day come around, or have someone special but are tired of the hype, fear not, because the solution may be here. Valentines Day sells itself with the concept of love. Love in swirling cursive, love in paper lace, love in red roses, and love in copious amounts of chocolate, but if you still have a functioning brain, you probably agree with me when I say that that is not actually real love. What if we, instead of accepting the money-hungry commercial definition of love, decided to live by what love really is. Love is the feeling that motivates us to reach out to other people, to want to fix the broken and find the lost. Love is forgiving those who hurt you, and making things right with those who you have hurt. It's holding the door, giving away your money, drying tears, and walking humbly. Love is what makes the heart whole. If you see things the way I do, and want to make your moments count, or just don't want to spend your Valentines Day moping, here is my challenge to you: Live real love.     
-mads

Into The Wild (DIY edition)

As far back as I can remember, I have been afflicted with a particularly aggressive strain of wanderlust. When forced by the obligations of everyday life to stay in the same place for prolonged periods of time, I become increasingly restless, sad, and anxious as I wait at the edge of my seat for the next adventure-high that will come my way. While always preferred, the adventure doesn't always have to be a grand one. It can be small. To others, what seems like just a slightly different day is an adventure to me and my brain that is just as easily excited as it is bored. Like today, for example. A few weeks prior, I rented the film version of Into The Wild from the library. I had read the book, and it had become one of my favorite stories. I was excited to see the film, but also nervous, because when I read the book, my restlessness increased to a near-torturous level, due to the fact that I read it as I sat in a desk day after day, under fluorescent lighting and a monotonous routine. The DVD was in my hand when I thought to myself: Is this really what you need right now? Do you actually think that you'll be able to willingly go back to school and focus on academics tomorrow after watching something like this? I couldn't do it. I knew that as soon as I pressed play, I would think of nothing but running off to great adventures that I couldn't go on and that wouldn't get me anywhere that I need to be at this time of my life. When I told that to my friend, Anika, she told me she was in the same boat, and that if I still wanted to watch the movie, I could go to her house and watch it with her, so that we could be restless and sad together, and then talk each other back down to real life. Also included in our plan was the idea that I would just sleepover on her couch, and the next day, we would eat breakfast heartily, and then go into the wild. So, we watched the film as planned, and this morning I woke up on the couch, looked at the dawn sky, and smiled. Not a single cloud. It was as if nature wanted this day for us. We drank smoothies, filled water bottles, laced up our Sorels, and hit the road, our sights set on the general Hyalite area. We ended up driving to Grotto falls and speed hiking to the top (Anika didn't want to be beat by other hikers with snowshoes). We ate a lunch of oatmeal cookies and apples in an incredible little ice cave we found, and we let our butts freeze numb as we discussed the meanings to life. When we had hiked back down, we still weren't ready to leave the wild, so we stumbled through the deep, crunchy snow, out onto Hyalite Reservoir. When we could hike no further, we flopped down into the snow, and I made a snow-angel in the middle of a lake. After I got home, I was feeling inspired, so I went out for a run, and ran/walked 4 peaceful miles. This day was exactly what I needed; an adventure. It didn't matter that we didn't travel more than 30 miles from home, or that we only hiked 3 miles, because to me, its not the size or scale of the adventure or the undertaking, but the passion with which you pursue it that makes it worthwhile.  -mads