The Chinese symbol for “crisis.”  It does not necessarily, as the infamous proverb goes, mean “danger” and “opportunity.”  Danger is the first symbol, but the second, more accurately, means “that point in which everything changes.”  I suppose one could view that as “opportunity,” but I like the more accurate meaning better…


A crisis, filled with danger, and the point where everything changes.


 

Another Visit To The Golden Age of Radio
directed by Gary Yoggy



Another Visit to the Golden Age of Radio (19th annual edition) –

Remember when gasoline was only 15 cents/gallom, the milkman came to your door, and families gathered in the evening to hear the popular radio programs? For the 19th time in as many years, ELT faithfully recreats those nostalgic days. This season’s gueast stars WILL HUTCHINS and ROSEMARY RICE, bring their classic radio & television experiences to the ELT Radio Stage with episodes from “Have Gun, Will Travel,” “I Remember Moma!” and “The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet.” You will not want to miss this year’s GOLDEN AGE OF RADIO.

Performances are on March 31st at 7:30pm and April 1st at 2pm and 7:30pm


 

I know I haven’t been posting much lately.  It’s not that I’ve had no interesting thoughts, it’s just that most of my interesting thoughts are not things I wish to share with the known and unknown universe.


I’m back at Subway, which is good for the bank account.  I’m beginning to believe that I can have fifteen college degrees and I will still be stuck in foodservice.


Not stuck. I am blessed with a job, especially considering that they were kind enough to hire me back, and that I happened to wander into Subway for the first time in six weeks on the exact day that a coworker went into labor unexpectedly and they needed a trained someone that evening.  


I bit my tongue the other day. It hurts. 
Not that anyone cares.


Yesterday, Amanda was in a bad mood.  This has been happening a lot recently, and we thought the constant pessimism was just the result of low blood sugar, but I’m becoming concerned.  Anyway, I put her in my car, filled the gas tank, and we went on Adventures.


Adventures with a seven-year-old is always fun.  I just put her in the front seat and we go explore the countryside. Every time I come to an intersection I ask her which way to go, and she picks, and so we always end of someplace new.  Then we went to Pizza Hut, and it was such a lovely day we walked down to the playground.  Playgrounds with kids are so much fun, too.  We went puddle hopping, since it had just rained and I am not a mommy, so I can jump in puddles, too.  We stomped in the mud(again, I am not a mommy) and played tag and then, since we were the only ones there, we took over the castle section of the playground and were princesses.


Then we went down to the lake and played Pooh Sticks on the pier. 


I hope I never become so old that I don’t want to play Pooh Sticks with a child.


 

Viewing the slideshow of Ron and Rachel (http://pictureinfinity.com/slideshows/east/)  almost makes me want to get married.


Well, I got over that in a hurry.


I have no idea what the plan is here.  What God is going to do with this broken, messed up, shattered thing I call my life; only that He is, like Sandy says, going to put it together in a mosaic more beautiful than anything my human wholeness could have been.  Maybe I’ll get married, maybe I won’t.  Maybe I’ll have kids, maybe I’ll be given the great gift of loving other’s children.  Maybe I’ll stay in New York, maybe I’ll leave, maybe I’ll be a teacher, maybe I’ll find a job in which someone else gets to cook for me(yeah, well, one can always hope…)…


And the truth is, I just don’t really care.  Winter is almost over, and, if I look carefully enough, I can see the beginnings of leaves on the trees, the buds slowly growing.  And I who have died am alive again today, and bursting with joy.  How did it happen?
Gradually…and then suddenly, like spring coming anew.


 


 


Struggling.

A girl I know killed herself Tuesday night. 


My bank account is empty, and though I should start substitute teaching soon(my application will be approved Monday night), it will be a few weeks before the check shows up in my mailbox.  And because my clearances have yet to come in, it throws yet another wrench in the whole thing.


I’m behind on homework, for a degree I’m still not convinced that I want. 


And I’m left with the existential question…what is the point?


Perhaps this is one of the problems with humanity; we believe everything should have meaning.  We want death to have meaning, and suffering, and all these unexplainable hurts we suffer daily–we want it all to mean something, to know that even though we have suffered, it has not been in vain.  We want things to make sense, even if that sense is somehow metaphysical, that our suffering in the long-term view of the world will somehow fit in with a perfect plot.


I know, somehow, God is supposed to fit in here.  And I do believe that; I believe that God was just as present when my friend killed herself as He was when another friend was killed in an accident or another died of cancer…as He was present when Rachel walked out of an accident that should have killed her, as He was present when I had an allergic reaction to anesthetic and stopped breathing, as He is present now. I cannot find it within myself to dare to assume that God only knows what He is doing when He does what I want…what I think is best…like preventing a friend from suicide, or preventing a car accident, or cancer cells.   


But I am human, and I want meaning beyond vague God talk and philosophical words that mean little in the end.  I want stone tablets to fall in my front yard and tell me the end of the story and how this all fits in.  I want to know, now, the plot and the characters, to know what part I am playing, and to know how it all works out.


Perhaps I would be bored, though, if I knew all the answers already.  And I have lived enough in my twenty-four-and-a-half-or-so- years to know that so very often, the thing I thought was the worst thing that could ever possibly happen turns out to be the best, and sometimes God gives us what we want and then takes it away, in order to show us what we need.


But I’d still like a job.

All good stories start this way:

I was walking down Franklin Street yesterday.


You have to understand that I will not drive down Franklin.  I hate red lights.  I consistently will go a block out of my way and drive down Decatur instead of Franklin.  There are a lot of people who think I do this because I am stalking them.  In case they are reading my Xanga, I am not stalking you.  I am flipping off your houses as I drive by, but that’s all.


Sorry. ADD moment.  In any case, while I will not drive down Franklin, I will walk down it.  As I was yesterday, when all of the sudden an ambulance comes barreling down the street.  No lights, no siren, just flying down the street.  I pause to watch this spectacle, and as the ambulance nears me, the window opens and the horn blares, and someone leans out and yells, “Sara!”

It is not uncommon for drivers of emergency vehicles in this town to yell “Sara!” as they drive past, but generally, they don’t blow the horn.


So I turn, and I see my sister Rachel, driving the ambulance, waving like a maniac out the window.  Geez. You let a girl get married, and she gets all weird…


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The happy couple, Rachel and Ron East



The Moore cousins….the first time we’ve all been together



left to right….my cousin Tami(the daughter of my dad’s brother), Rebekah, me, and my cousin Erica(Tami’s sister)’s fiance, Joe



My toast to Rachel. She’s crying.



Some of my favorite people…my cousins Jeremy, Emily, and Dan



Some more of my favorite people….Tami, my dad, and Erica



My baby girl…Amanda.  No, she is not drinking champagne.


  The vows



Cutting the cake, which my mom and her friend Robin made


 



Me talking to my grandmother, Beth



More to come….

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