"Faithing"

God provides.

About a month ago I was wondering whether I would have enough funds to continue college. This is when I decided. To give it ALL to Him! I would no longer worry over finances. Although with my first payment my bank account was cleared out-cobwebs of pennies included-I knew He would give my enough because it was His will that I be here.

During that first week, spent on my knees laying myself down in front of His presence, I heard this song and it was my answer.

"I will stay!"

"Who lifts the poor and heals the blind? Who trampled death for all mankind? Who stands for all with arms stretched wide? My king forever, Jesus Christ."

• Quarters appearing for laundry
• Money prize won in a Karaoke contest
• A check from a generous church member

This is how awesome my God is! He not only cares for the poor and the dying but also the needs of a college student. My God is an Awesome God!

No matter what my plans are, His are always greater. I am so grateful we are not able to see the future. Because we would have too many problems as humans trying to make our own way possible. We do that enough now with our blind eyes! God's will be done. That is the best way.

Speaking with a new friend Thursday night, I shared my story and my "faithing."
I don't know where the next payment is coming from. I am not secure in my own right. Yet, I am secure knowing He's got me. And if He's got me then of course that is where I should want to be! His security means more than this world.

Faithing. It means doing. It means trusting. It means believing. It means showing and telling your story. It is not feebleness. It is not hiding. It is not fear.

Stay and wait.

Pray in confidence. Pray without ceasing. For He will provide your daily needs. Daily needs. So focus on what God is doing for you today. Don't worry about tomorrow. He's got you.

Saturday morning ramblings

It is well. For through it all, through it all my eyes are on you. And through it all, through it all it is well with me.

This song. This life. This God.
Sitting here on a sleeping bag in an unfamiliar dorm room, sleeping stranger in a bed next to me.
Tan colored light begins to turn yellow through closed blinds to my left.
Nothing is a coincidence.
An hour of change causes a week of difference.
Mourning these past days with a smiling face.
Hearing of how we must get past these four walls and the reason we are stagnate is because we are closed in. We are trapped.
Passive. Complacent. Boring. Words I hate yet I am sometimes.
I must not be content with who I am at this moment for I can be better.
Yet I must rest in knowing that He will change me if I let Him into my heart.
One song heard two times thus far speaking of how much our father loves us.
The first, a last minute performance at an open mic, the second, during a concert.
Listen He says. Or is that my voice?
Trying to decipher whose is whose and of course crush the third.
For He is great and is coming soon but who knows this?
Am I sharing? Am I caring? Will this place help me grow or shrink?
Should I stay or should I go?
Questions tire me I am ready to serve. Here I am Lord send me.
Send me where?
Anywhere I cry in desperation. Just let me do something. I need to move.
You are moving.
In circles I feel like.
But those circles wander in and out so they are more like spirals. And in those spirals you cover ground. Maybe more than once or twice but you do my work.
You help me do mine. You give me my wants. You cover my mistakes. Two times already in the past two days you've done this.
I do not deserve Your grace.
Nothing is a coincidence. No such thing as luck.
I believe.
Lord take me, send me, but a more painful prayer is Lord keep me where I am.
If that is what you want...
No more dots
Thy will be done in all things
COME LORD JESUS

I called myself Pip

My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.

My mother's name is Bertha Lois Ulloa Saladier, my father's name is Domingko Diofil Saladier. My mother named me from a mixture of her initials "BLU" and her mother's name "ANN" making "Bluann." This is the name that was given to me.
As a firstborn child I am sure my parents had great expectations for their offspring. Perhaps they would have no more children? Then I would be it and it had better be good. Luckily for me, I did not have the entire responsibility of being my parents' only child, three others came from them. Each one of my sisters have names given to them: Roswena, Cassilabelle, Selencia. Each name is unique as is each sister. What is in a name?

Close your eyes. Now I want you to say in a voice only you can hear. Say your name.

Tonight I watched the film "Mr. Pip." Being one of the "Recently Added" films to the Netflix collection I thought that I had better put my $7 (and some cents) to use. No regrets.

The Queen of Sheba and crabs in the sand

Now to all of you out there this film is rated PG-13 for a reason: violence, highly dramatic (traumatic themes set in war times), language etc; However, I am almost glad it is a PG-13 film because a story like this is hard to tell without a level of graphic-ness (excuse me as I make up words and use silly little dashes to make sense of it all...). I thought that this film was very well done. I enjoyed the heavy thematic score, beautiful islands scenes, and clever script based off a book which is based off real events which are drawn from an even older novel "Great Expectations. As I am a reader of many a 19th century novel, I always enjoy a good movie that portray reading as the adventure that it is. But this film proved a point that, as the official tagline goes, "Fiction can be dangerous in times of war."

SPOILER ALERT
As the only remaining white on the island, Mr. Watts is an oddity. Being seen as an educated man, he is recruited as a teacher for the island kids. Mr. Watts is no teacher, he has no child and spends his days caring for his wife who seems to be stuck in the past, a zombie for all purposes, Mr. Watts, or Popeye as they like to call him, begins to read the children "Great Expectations." One of the students, Matilda, closely relates to the hero "Pip" and imagines herself in the story right alongside him. As kids are, many imaginations run wild especially the first day when Mr. Watts tells the children he wants to introduce them to a Mr. Dickents. The next day all hands rise and the students begin asking their teacher where this other white man is and if he can give them some items on their parents wish lists. As the students continue to hear the story and learn more about this imaginary character, some parents become concerned. Pip truly becomes a being. So much so that when a militia leader arrives, the locals are asked to bring forth this "Pip." La di da di da....things happen and I don't want to spoil you all too much because I know you're still reading even though this paragraph was titled with SPOILER ALERT.

"What's it like to be white?" ask the children of their teacher Mr. Watts. "I usually only notice it when I'm surrounded by blacks." Mr. Watts replies. "What's it like being black?"

This particular point in the movie was one that made me think. And I greatly enjoy films, books, and music that makes me do just that. Think just a little bit harder about what may seem to be the most basic and simple things in life. Black and White. Or Brown. Being an "islander" myself I don't fit into black or white but both and neither. Hispanic is not really my thing either and asian is still a bit far off so I've always been on the outside of these racial cliques or in all of them. So the answer is true for me. I frequently feel "white" among "blacks" and then "black" among "whites." Its a very interesting situation I think and I like it.

Take my life.

Family is the base and footing of societies. We cannot be without families. Children are raised, communities are formed around this social clump of beings. And with the dramatic decline of a family structure so goes a great nation. A great country is not made up of strong individuals, it is made up of weak and imperfect families who realize they need more, are worth more, and are able to work towards more together as a unit.

Matilda is told in the latter part of the film that Mr. Watts was no brave man. She hastily disagrees. For what she saw of him he was always the gentleman and the last time she saw him he was the bravest man on earth. Whatever Mr. Watts was in his past life he no longer was in his new one. I think this is true of us all changed individuals. Once we go past a certain point there is no turning back. We are no longer the person we are before. We are constantly being changed and molded. We are able to chew over how our environment changes us and how circumstances leave us but life happens and we all end up different then how we predict.

Great expectations.

Yesterday I spent a good twenty minutes talking (more like listening) to two of my extended family members give advice on how life is. One snippet that has stuck to me all day today and has been repeated over and over in my mind since she said it is, "God will always put you where you need to be. I know there are places we've moved because we needed to meet certain people and everything readies you for the next step. Just know that if you're running around in circles and God needs you to be somewhere, that's where you'll end up. Sometimes He lets you take that short cut, detour, or round about adventure. He takes you left to go right. God lets us explore that side of us to get it out of our system because if we had never gone left we would have never known and it would have haunted us to eternity. God knows. He lets us explore. But if you're seeking you will find."

Mathew 6:33

Seek. Be a finder. Don't give up, never give up.

As I end this post that is a seemingly jumbled mess of a movie review, name game, and theological musing, I say my name to myself. That is one thing that no one can ever take from you. For there is no one in the world with your voice that can say your name. Bluann.

Come on and let me know...

Should I stay or should I go now?

I read an article this past week titled, "Why You Need to Fail" by Taylor Turner on a blog I follow Inside Out Magazine. Read the post and see for yourself why I liked it. It called to me because it was brutally honest. The type of honest one needs when one, who has continued to lie to oneself over and over again that "everything is fine" until everything is not fine, desperately wants and needs to hear. Also, perhaps I enjoyed this article because I could identify with it personally; especially concerning failures from last semester. One big "F"ailure comes to mind, concerning a certain class which led to a last minute decision to cancel all classes for my current semester and pick up what would seem a complete waste of credits-- Jazz Dance.

One day is fine and next is black

After the decision to throw my almost-earned Associate's Degree in the gutter, I chose to spend this spring semester searching for universities to transfer to in the fall and focusing on my current extracurricular commitments which include:

• Pathfinder Director
• Dance Instructor
• Programming Director (Summer Camp)
• CrossFit
• and of course some actual work for $$$monies$$

The indecision is bugging me

So far in my college search for next semester (I've only visited 2 campuses so far--3 in actuality but living minutes from one doesn't count) I've decided DEFINITELY NOT for one and I DON'T KNOW MAYBE-PROBABLY for the other. On one college trip some friends introduced me to this really adventurous bookstore where I picked up a blank book. In this blank book one page is dedicated to the pros and cons of perspective places of education I may or may not be learning at in the fall times. #1 on both lists of pros and cons is location. Of course thanks to The Clash I've come to the conclusion that the biggest question in my university search is: "Should I stay, or should I go now?"

If I go it will be trouble, if I stay it will be double.

I've discovered that I have nowhere I would specifically want to go. Not one major I really want to earn. I can see myself anywhere doing (almost) anything. For example I've applied to one university to study film, another to study health education, and another business!
So what now? How do I answer this very important question? I can see both pros and cons of in-state and out-of-state universities. I see how effective it would be for me to study here, also how distracting it would be as well. Knowing myself, as I've known myself these past 4 years working, schooling, and extra things have not gone well. I want it all! All of it! But while I can hold on to everything at once I can not dedicate my all to all of it. After realizing this about myself I can see how an out-of-state college would be a good choice. I could get away from my responsibilities and focus on my education for a bit. However, on the flip side, why would I want to run away from my responsibilities? Perhaps among all these extracurriculars lies my true calling. Maybe my education won't truly lead me to that one job. Maybe there isn't one job. What if college isn't for me?
Do you see my dilemma?

So you gotta let me know, should I stay or should I go?

As I end this blog-post I end with no answer. At least not yet. I know at some point it will come.
In the meantime, I'm going to have this song on replay.
Also, readers please feel free to comment/message me with advice and stories of your own education/job search experiences is VERY WELCOME and MUCH appreciated!

Signed ~a very confused, frustrated, yet hopeful student

p.s. here's the song for you all to listen to its what I'm feelin' right now guys!

Laughter amidst the noise

Another morning spent at a cafe. I am working on---STOP EMAILING ME!!!!! pops up ding Ding on my notifications. I quickly delete the unhappy recipient from my contacts list and continue on to writing/typing and of course the very important business of trying to stay awake while sitting cross legged at a very warm cafe with one leg falling asleep.

I have been driving a lot this week. All the way to Gloucester and back two times in one week. I've also gotten paid so the only natural thing to do would be spend it all on food! I cleaned my room, mostly my drawers. I have been told that the condition of your room reflects onto your life. I believe that is true. Not only of your room but your appearance, your studies...speaking of studies...

I took two no three tests this week! Two in espanol and one in biology. Surprisingly, or perhaps sadly since starting community college I have become more unmotivated in my studies. I no longer am doing my best, studying my hardest for the tests. I feel like I am learning despite this. Although, I no longer cram like crazy for a test, I do my best in class to understand the material. All of my time outside of class is devoted to other activities. "Other activities" And because of this lack of motivation and laziness I am calling it, I have decided to scold myself starting NOW and begin doing better!
I have it in me! I know how to study! I can dedicate more of my time to actually studying the material out of class, at---home. I can do this.

In times like these I wish I was taking an English class. I like thinking abstractly and I miss the reflection that an English class brings. Spanish and Biology has been very eye opening in a different way. I am actually learning really interesting information that will help me. However, some of it is so tangible I long for the fluffiness and clouds rather than the hard, rock earth I've been given.
I miss writing papers. I enjoy the writing process.

"What are you studying towards in school?" asks my general manager. "Business." This is what I want to do. Manage. Plan. Create. Direct. A year ago I wanted to edit videos. Before that it was teaching. I am teaching and I am editing videos. I am directing and managing in several places. I feel like it would be a great challenge to become a shift manager at work, study more about numbers, and business in general.
Yes. Management. Business.
AND

Right now this is laughter amidst the noise.

Un corazon para Dios

A heart for God.

I am sitting here in Aromas, a quaint cafe in the middle of the William and Mary campus in my hometown Williamsburg, Virginia. It is snowing off and on big snowy flakes. Esta nevando. In front of me is an unfinished bowl of oatmeal whose caramelized banana was devoured instantly and a medium, I mean small but these cups always confuse me because they are more of a medium to me than a small.

After hitting his head on the thick wooden board that is my table, a student successfully stands and returns to his now charging electronic device. Flashback to the Avengers movie where Captain America is asked by Iron Man to report on the status of one of the engines, after a glance at the bright flashing lights he reports, "It seems to run on some type of electricity." That would be my reply exactly.

I have finished one of fifty homework assignments por classe de espanol. During my writing and conjugating, I have taken constant breaks to listen in on the conversation of my neighbors. Two ladies converse on spiritual topics over bagels and coffee. As I considered my decision of thick oatmeal over lighter fruit or the creamy cheese that would accompany a thick bagel, I heard the phrase, a heart for God.

The women continue to speak of David and compare him to another biblical character. Righteousness and what that entailed for the Savior and the sinners. Faith, bible study, church attendance. And now as I listen carefully they are speaking of a theologian.

"He is the only seventh-day adventist who is also a Catholic bishop." Mr. Jay tells of stories from his younger years this past Saturday at the Berryman house. I am always interested in stories, narratives. How a person got here from where. What could have possibly made a person who they are at this moment. The scraps and pieces that contribute to who they are. Who are they? As I listened then to a couple who I have known for almost my whole life, I am in awe of their faith, their strength, loyalty and I wonder how it is possible for people like them to have been young at one time.

One the women talk. Computers open, across the cafe sits a guy I always see in here. Hat, beard, jacket, always orders a simple cup of self served coffee and then opens up his nook and reads. He stares now and our eyes have caught for a moment, looked away and caught. He scratches his beard, strokes the hairs and stops. I feel like a creeper as I continue to stare while typing. Smoothing, pulling. His hand over his beard moves again.

What is the point of this time in my life? Lately I have been asking myself this question over and over. I hope one day to awake to my once motivated and excited self. What happened to the teenager, young girl who jumped at any opportunity she could get to serve, help, do more, try more? Witness more? I now no longer have that feeling of urgency. I have relaxed. Have I mellowed out? Or is this just a stop pit as I wait for the next chapter to start? Wait for the next chapter to start...that is an misleading statement I think. In a book you do not come across blank sets of pages between chapters. This is where the waiting for the next chapter to start occurs. Or not. Because this is not so. In life the book continues. Reader or not. The movie keeps playing there is no intermission.

Awkward moment as gray haired, glassed face meets eyes with me as I look away I feel him continue to stare. "Do you want your receipt?" I miss that statement as the girl at the register speaks to a customer. I think of the water, food, and grease I will encounter this evening a work. The spanish I will attempt to speak at noon and the old friends I may encounter on the steps in half an hour.

I look over to who I believe is the father of a young girl who dances at In His Steps studying dilligently at his computer, book, which I would like to imagine as a bible, open in front of him. I feel impressed to leave.

rigthbrainedbeauty saw your photo. Thank you instagram.

rightbrainedbeauty commented on your photo.

"That looks glorious."

White bowl of oatmeal, not too sugary not too bland, cranberries, and caramelized brown sugar atop a half sliced banana.

Why Teach? why learn?

Sitting in a coffee shop listening to both the music exiting the speakers of my blue headphones as me and my blue CrossFit shirt are surrounded by the chatter and Christmas music courtesy of James Taylor and fellow coffee shop sitters.
I will ignore the fact I have't been on here in near a year and continue to tell the emptiness that I am reading a book. The book "Why Teach?" is by Mark Edmunson. What I know so far about him is that he teaches at UVA. So many truths so far to his book that I am swimming in my brain that is drowning due to these ideas that I myself have been telling myself and chewing over for months, years, ever since my first semester at community college. My new facebook status (because of course when we discover something new and idealogical it must be etched into the stony crevice of our book of faces line of time), is from the book,

"Students worry that taking too many chances with their education will sabotage their future prospects...There's a sentiment currently afoot that if you step aside for a moment to write, to travel, to fall too hard in love, you might lose position permanently."

The above idea plus the hypothesis that most students are mindless creatures who live in a constant environment of activity and drama yet themselves are so unenthusiastic and have nothing to say in response to pieces of literaure except for, "I enjoyed it."
Enjoyment. Students today seem to think that education is for their enjoyment and if pleasure is not derived from the act of learning and studying then it surely is not profitable. After all if it hurts why do it? Mark mentions this attitude of "learning" has been due to most parents discouraging honesty and criticism from teachers because children must always be flattered and never must a hurtful word enter the mix.
People have forgotten that the reason we seek education is because of our present ignorance.
Smart doesn't come from smart already.
So as a present student and teacher and continuous seeker of education and opportunities to learn, I will seek for Teachers (as I have been) who don't flatter students, I will be honest with them and while I'm still afraid of raising my hand or speaking I will still face that discomfort and share. Learn. Get embarrassed and try to get used to being such.