"After the tears comes silence:
The slow night, the still sad time.
Rinsed, empty, scoured and sore with salt,
Spent, waiting without hope.
After the night comes the Lamb:
Bright morning star, with living water free
And fresh, the fruit of Friday's toil." - NT Wright
"This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:
'Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved.
In quietness and confidence is your strength. But you would have none of it.
You said, 'No, we will get our help from Egypt.
They will give us swift horses for riding into battle.' But the only swiftness you are going t osee is the swiftness ofyour enemies chasing you!...
So the Lord must wait for you to come to him
so he can show you his love and compassion.
For the Lord is a faithful God. Blessed are those who wait for his help....
He will be gracious if you ask for help.
He will surely respond to the sound of your cires.
Though the Lord gave you adversity for food and suffering for drink, he will still be wiht you to teach you. " ~Isaiah 30:15
"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strengh; He makes my feet like the feet of the deer, He enables me to go on the heights." Habakkuk 3:17-19
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Socks, Dolphins, and Fish Tacos
"Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin…or a kind and loving gesture…or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort. Not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs...an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters…and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause."
This is a quote from the movie Stranger Than Fiction, which is also the title of one of my first posts, about this movie and the concept above. Thinking over this past weekend, I felt a smile pull at my lips as I recalled those nuances and subtleties that were sprinkled across three days to serve a much nobler cause.
Friday, to start, was a friend's birthday party...more akin to the birthday parties of elementary school with good friends and games; as opposed to the typical loud, drunken, stupid-fest that we so unoriginally participate in as we grow up. Not that the occasional dance-party laced with alcohol isn't fun, but there's something lovely about a pure, unadulterated hang out with pizza, cake, and party games. And I'm not sure if I need to say much more than this: men and women in their mid-20's playing at a park, sitting and standing on opposite sides of two bedsheets hung over a rope between two trees, throwing balled-up socks at each other until it all became so pointless that we were laughing at how competitive and fun throwing soft objects at each other could become.
Saturday was another simple day, yet filled with many pleasure and subtle joys. An early morning surf with a friend, and though we lovingly referred to it as "Lake Newport", there were a few good practice waves for me to briefly stand up and attempt dropping in to, and lots of time to lay around on the board, enjoying the small but calming waves. A few dolphins also swam by to our delight, and the rare ability to enjoy the water and some brief conversation instead of being pounded by waves made it one of those special surfing days in my mind.
The rest of my day was just my kind of afternoon...breakfast at Charlie's Chili...a casual walk down towards Balboa, then back the other direction past the pier...a stop in a donut shop for a Hawaiian Hazelnut Coffee, reminding me of a coffee I drank in Hawaii, which just seemed so appropriate at the beach...a jaunt down to the water, observing other beach-goers set up with tents and enough food for a week, and then a trip down the pier and a conversation with a guy doing some fishing. I would say for me, one of my greatest "subtle encourgements" is the beach...it's like a happy, mini-vacation filled with the sound of crashing waves, warm sun, and wind blowing through the palm trees. And nothing like the souvenier of a sunburn to make you feel like you've fully enjoyed the outdoors.
Saturday night I had the pleasure of going to church with a friend, followed by dinner at Wahoo's (which totally went with the beach, surfing theme of the day). Good conversation, girl-time, and the bright smile and encouragement of one of my newer friends was a huge blessing. Sunday was even more of that, a delicious lunch and drinks with a friend, and a day of rest, reading, and conversation. Friends, talking, people to spend time with...especially in the face of a difficult time in life, are perhaps the biggest, most sugary-sweet "Bavarian Sugar cookie" that God can serve us.
I didn't do anything particularl extraordinary or impressive this weekend, but all those little accessories to my days truly served a much greater purpose - healing, refreshment, and the reminder that it is God in all of those seemingly insignificant moments, joyfully blessing us, repairing hurt, preparing us for all that he has in store, and making each moment worth living because He is there.
This is a quote from the movie Stranger Than Fiction, which is also the title of one of my first posts, about this movie and the concept above. Thinking over this past weekend, I felt a smile pull at my lips as I recalled those nuances and subtleties that were sprinkled across three days to serve a much nobler cause.
Friday, to start, was a friend's birthday party...more akin to the birthday parties of elementary school with good friends and games; as opposed to the typical loud, drunken, stupid-fest that we so unoriginally participate in as we grow up. Not that the occasional dance-party laced with alcohol isn't fun, but there's something lovely about a pure, unadulterated hang out with pizza, cake, and party games. And I'm not sure if I need to say much more than this: men and women in their mid-20's playing at a park, sitting and standing on opposite sides of two bedsheets hung over a rope between two trees, throwing balled-up socks at each other until it all became so pointless that we were laughing at how competitive and fun throwing soft objects at each other could become.
Saturday was another simple day, yet filled with many pleasure and subtle joys. An early morning surf with a friend, and though we lovingly referred to it as "Lake Newport", there were a few good practice waves for me to briefly stand up and attempt dropping in to, and lots of time to lay around on the board, enjoying the small but calming waves. A few dolphins also swam by to our delight, and the rare ability to enjoy the water and some brief conversation instead of being pounded by waves made it one of those special surfing days in my mind.
The rest of my day was just my kind of afternoon...breakfast at Charlie's Chili...a casual walk down towards Balboa, then back the other direction past the pier...a stop in a donut shop for a Hawaiian Hazelnut Coffee, reminding me of a coffee I drank in Hawaii, which just seemed so appropriate at the beach...a jaunt down to the water, observing other beach-goers set up with tents and enough food for a week, and then a trip down the pier and a conversation with a guy doing some fishing. I would say for me, one of my greatest "subtle encourgements" is the beach...it's like a happy, mini-vacation filled with the sound of crashing waves, warm sun, and wind blowing through the palm trees. And nothing like the souvenier of a sunburn to make you feel like you've fully enjoyed the outdoors.
Saturday night I had the pleasure of going to church with a friend, followed by dinner at Wahoo's (which totally went with the beach, surfing theme of the day). Good conversation, girl-time, and the bright smile and encouragement of one of my newer friends was a huge blessing. Sunday was even more of that, a delicious lunch and drinks with a friend, and a day of rest, reading, and conversation. Friends, talking, people to spend time with...especially in the face of a difficult time in life, are perhaps the biggest, most sugary-sweet "Bavarian Sugar cookie" that God can serve us.
I didn't do anything particularl extraordinary or impressive this weekend, but all those little accessories to my days truly served a much greater purpose - healing, refreshment, and the reminder that it is God in all of those seemingly insignificant moments, joyfully blessing us, repairing hurt, preparing us for all that he has in store, and making each moment worth living because He is there.
Friday, July 13, 2007
He Changed Me
“You change me, You change me
Thank You, Jesus
I can see You change me
Like a bullet in a wound
It needs to be removed
But only by You, only by You
And though I feel so stuck
The hope in Your eyes is enough
To change me, You change me
Thank You, Jesus
I can see You change me”
-Bethany Dillon, Change
I’m feeling a little awkward posting this, because it’s really more like a journal entry which will make me vulnerable through telling ways that God has changed me. If he’s changed me, it means I had things about me that needed changing, and that is always humbling to admit. However, we rejoice when God works in people’s lives, and I suppose that includes mine. God is always at work in all of our hearts but we don’t often share, although it is often worthy of praise. So…here we go….
I recently ended a relationship; and to be honest, a relationship that I thought would never end. I suppose that to some extent big life changes like these cause us to pause and reflect, and hopefully teach us to seek God more and to find ways in which He might be speaking to us. I know for me this is true…I have had much time to reflect on what went wrong, how God is moving, what he is now filling that void with, etc. So for me, an easy measure of my life and how things have changed is about 2 years ago, because that is when this relationship began. In fact, it was exactly 2 years just this past week.
So I’ve been thinking lately, how was I different two years ago? How did I think, act, feel, relate to God, when I first started dating this person? I actually find it ironic that we broke up due largely to the fact that this person saw something he did not like in me, thought maybe I had changed, or my character had weakened. So of course, I am reflecting on what things he saw and what I need to be working on. The irony is that I feel that if he had truly seen all of me when we started dating, that he would see now that I have grown and changed in so many positive ways and am so much stronger spiritually now than I was then. But if that was the case, how would God have used this person to shape and mold me into the person I have become? I believe God used him as a mighty tool in my life, “as iron sharpens iron”, to create a much better Holly.
Some of these changes may seem small or not a big deal, but I do believe they please God, and that is not trivial. I already wrote one post about this - basically how I grew up very comfortable and privileged and assumed that the big house, nice cars and well-decorated house were what you aim for, that a good comfortable life is the best goal. These days, comfort is still appealing of course. Who doesn’t want a nice place to live? But the things I used to think about having: the nice decorations in the house, clothes, the nice cars and nice stuff flooding my life…it really is not that appealing anymore.
Mahatma Gandhi said, “May I live simply, that others may simply live.” In the face of what others lack, the idea of me having more than I need, or even want, just seems ridiculous. Why buy more clothes when I could give them away to people without jobs? Why buy more jewelry when really a few pieces will do? Do these things really make me more attractive, more important, more happy? Not at all. Yesterday I heard about a girl who sold almost all of her stuff, packed what she could into a few suitcases, and is moving to South America to teach. Why is something about that so appealing? No, I don’t want to move to South America, but the idea of living with only what you really need so that you can better serve others…that is attractive. I’ve begun to feel overwhelmed by the needless “stuff” I have in my little apartment, and have decided to get rid of some of it, simplify, and give what I can away to people who can’t just go out and buy this stuff.
I spend my Thursday nights with people who sell their bodies to afford a place to sleep, with homeless people and drug addicts who can’t find jobs because of the situation they’re in. Am I really going to go and buy more stuff to fill my already crowded apartment? I think a new outfit for work or a new shirt from time to time is reasonable, but the pleasure I used to find in shopping has basically turned into a constant “buyer’s remorse”. I feel yucky when I come home with bags filled with anything but food, like I’ve done something wrong. And perhaps is wasn’t wrong, but was it the wisest choice in how to use the blessing God has given to me? This was all a very slow and subtle change. I don’t think it happened all at once…but mostly through God’s use of this “ex” in my life to influence me. My perspective has shifted, and my eyes have been opened to so much around me…and I love it!
Another change hit me the other day. I was thinking about my vacation coming up in September, and what I should do during that time. I have a few options open, some of them costing more than others. And perhaps for the first time in my life I gave serious thought to whether I should actually spend the money to do something fun for myself, or to keep it simple and stay around home and use the money for something else. Or to spend my time doing ministry work, or going somewhere like New Orleans on a missions trip with my time. I still haven’t decided…but I remembered talking to a friend last year near vacation time about how she struggled with deciding between her desire to travel and get out of the US, and the need around her for missionaries to be supported and friends who needed money, etc, and how she should choose to use that money – for herself or for someone else. I still remember that conversation, and what went through my head, and it honestly makes me embarrassed to think about. Truly, my reaction (kept in my head) was, “hm, I’d spend it on the vacation. I mean, she makes a good point, but if you want to travel, go travel. Spend a little money to see the world, get away, experience something new.” I love traveling, and that too has ways of spurring growth and character development. But my first thought was always where I wanted to go and how I wanted to spend the money. Yes- give to others, support missionaries, etc; But sacrifice your vacation time, time with friends or family for that? I wasn’t quite sure about that idea. And in the course of the year, I realized in my heart I’ve done a total 180. I’m now faced with the same decision, deciding what God wants me to do with that money. He’s a crazy guy, God is. If you’re not careful, He’ll completely change you without you having the slightest clue.
2 years ago, I never would have thought I would sacrifice sleep and comfort once a week to hang out with prostitutes and drug addicts. 2 years ago, I had no idea I would love these people and my heart would break for them…2 years ago I wanted to continue in Personal Training, or Marketing, or PR….not consider full-time ministry. 2 years ago I thought I was supposed to aspire to the nice house, the comfortable job, the nice retirement, the perfect family, the nice vacations, and a strong relationship with God. 2 years ago I loved God and graduated with a minor in Bible…but I knew little of what Faith truly lived out is, I knew little of total dependence on God, little of asking him for direction before taking any action, little of sacrifice and giving up the things I wanted most for God. I didn’t look for ways to give my money away, I simply tithed because that’s what I was supposed to do and I wanted to give back to God. I didn’t get excited to share the gospel with people, I just tried to be an encouragement to those around me. 2 years later I find my confidence and beauty in Christ and what my Father says about me, not what others say or magazines tell me. 2 years ago I knew I had pride, but didn’t realize the depth of it….I knew I preferred comfort over obedience, but didn’t realize how it hindered my relationship with Christ. 2 years ago I couldn’t forsee the hurt I would experience in a serious relationship, and really didn’t expect a broken heart. But seeing how God has changed me, and how I needed to have this relationship to make some of those changes, I wouldn’t trade it in, even knowing it would end. And I have to say, knowing that this relationship may or may not ever be what it was again makes me incredibly sad. But I am confident that God has a good work to complete in me. And if this is part of his plan (as I already see that it is in how God is moving in my life), then I will continue to take it day by day, trusting in God for his best, expectantly waiting to see how he will mold me into the woman he desires me to be.
In the words of “Shane and Shane”:
“When I think about the Lord
how He saved, how He raised me
how He filled me with the Holy Ghost
how He healed me to the uttermost
when I think about the Lord
how he picked me up
turned me around
how He set my feet
on solid ground
It makes me want to shout
hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus!
Lord, you're worthy
of all the glory, and all the honor
and all the praise!
Hallelujah! thank you, Jesus!
Lord, you're worthy
of all the glory, and all the honor
and all the praise!”
Thank You, Jesus
I can see You change me
Like a bullet in a wound
It needs to be removed
But only by You, only by You
And though I feel so stuck
The hope in Your eyes is enough
To change me, You change me
Thank You, Jesus
I can see You change me”
-Bethany Dillon, Change
I’m feeling a little awkward posting this, because it’s really more like a journal entry which will make me vulnerable through telling ways that God has changed me. If he’s changed me, it means I had things about me that needed changing, and that is always humbling to admit. However, we rejoice when God works in people’s lives, and I suppose that includes mine. God is always at work in all of our hearts but we don’t often share, although it is often worthy of praise. So…here we go….
I recently ended a relationship; and to be honest, a relationship that I thought would never end. I suppose that to some extent big life changes like these cause us to pause and reflect, and hopefully teach us to seek God more and to find ways in which He might be speaking to us. I know for me this is true…I have had much time to reflect on what went wrong, how God is moving, what he is now filling that void with, etc. So for me, an easy measure of my life and how things have changed is about 2 years ago, because that is when this relationship began. In fact, it was exactly 2 years just this past week.
So I’ve been thinking lately, how was I different two years ago? How did I think, act, feel, relate to God, when I first started dating this person? I actually find it ironic that we broke up due largely to the fact that this person saw something he did not like in me, thought maybe I had changed, or my character had weakened. So of course, I am reflecting on what things he saw and what I need to be working on. The irony is that I feel that if he had truly seen all of me when we started dating, that he would see now that I have grown and changed in so many positive ways and am so much stronger spiritually now than I was then. But if that was the case, how would God have used this person to shape and mold me into the person I have become? I believe God used him as a mighty tool in my life, “as iron sharpens iron”, to create a much better Holly.
Some of these changes may seem small or not a big deal, but I do believe they please God, and that is not trivial. I already wrote one post about this - basically how I grew up very comfortable and privileged and assumed that the big house, nice cars and well-decorated house were what you aim for, that a good comfortable life is the best goal. These days, comfort is still appealing of course. Who doesn’t want a nice place to live? But the things I used to think about having: the nice decorations in the house, clothes, the nice cars and nice stuff flooding my life…it really is not that appealing anymore.
Mahatma Gandhi said, “May I live simply, that others may simply live.” In the face of what others lack, the idea of me having more than I need, or even want, just seems ridiculous. Why buy more clothes when I could give them away to people without jobs? Why buy more jewelry when really a few pieces will do? Do these things really make me more attractive, more important, more happy? Not at all. Yesterday I heard about a girl who sold almost all of her stuff, packed what she could into a few suitcases, and is moving to South America to teach. Why is something about that so appealing? No, I don’t want to move to South America, but the idea of living with only what you really need so that you can better serve others…that is attractive. I’ve begun to feel overwhelmed by the needless “stuff” I have in my little apartment, and have decided to get rid of some of it, simplify, and give what I can away to people who can’t just go out and buy this stuff.
I spend my Thursday nights with people who sell their bodies to afford a place to sleep, with homeless people and drug addicts who can’t find jobs because of the situation they’re in. Am I really going to go and buy more stuff to fill my already crowded apartment? I think a new outfit for work or a new shirt from time to time is reasonable, but the pleasure I used to find in shopping has basically turned into a constant “buyer’s remorse”. I feel yucky when I come home with bags filled with anything but food, like I’ve done something wrong. And perhaps is wasn’t wrong, but was it the wisest choice in how to use the blessing God has given to me? This was all a very slow and subtle change. I don’t think it happened all at once…but mostly through God’s use of this “ex” in my life to influence me. My perspective has shifted, and my eyes have been opened to so much around me…and I love it!
Another change hit me the other day. I was thinking about my vacation coming up in September, and what I should do during that time. I have a few options open, some of them costing more than others. And perhaps for the first time in my life I gave serious thought to whether I should actually spend the money to do something fun for myself, or to keep it simple and stay around home and use the money for something else. Or to spend my time doing ministry work, or going somewhere like New Orleans on a missions trip with my time. I still haven’t decided…but I remembered talking to a friend last year near vacation time about how she struggled with deciding between her desire to travel and get out of the US, and the need around her for missionaries to be supported and friends who needed money, etc, and how she should choose to use that money – for herself or for someone else. I still remember that conversation, and what went through my head, and it honestly makes me embarrassed to think about. Truly, my reaction (kept in my head) was, “hm, I’d spend it on the vacation. I mean, she makes a good point, but if you want to travel, go travel. Spend a little money to see the world, get away, experience something new.” I love traveling, and that too has ways of spurring growth and character development. But my first thought was always where I wanted to go and how I wanted to spend the money. Yes- give to others, support missionaries, etc; But sacrifice your vacation time, time with friends or family for that? I wasn’t quite sure about that idea. And in the course of the year, I realized in my heart I’ve done a total 180. I’m now faced with the same decision, deciding what God wants me to do with that money. He’s a crazy guy, God is. If you’re not careful, He’ll completely change you without you having the slightest clue.
2 years ago, I never would have thought I would sacrifice sleep and comfort once a week to hang out with prostitutes and drug addicts. 2 years ago, I had no idea I would love these people and my heart would break for them…2 years ago I wanted to continue in Personal Training, or Marketing, or PR….not consider full-time ministry. 2 years ago I thought I was supposed to aspire to the nice house, the comfortable job, the nice retirement, the perfect family, the nice vacations, and a strong relationship with God. 2 years ago I loved God and graduated with a minor in Bible…but I knew little of what Faith truly lived out is, I knew little of total dependence on God, little of asking him for direction before taking any action, little of sacrifice and giving up the things I wanted most for God. I didn’t look for ways to give my money away, I simply tithed because that’s what I was supposed to do and I wanted to give back to God. I didn’t get excited to share the gospel with people, I just tried to be an encouragement to those around me. 2 years later I find my confidence and beauty in Christ and what my Father says about me, not what others say or magazines tell me. 2 years ago I knew I had pride, but didn’t realize the depth of it….I knew I preferred comfort over obedience, but didn’t realize how it hindered my relationship with Christ. 2 years ago I couldn’t forsee the hurt I would experience in a serious relationship, and really didn’t expect a broken heart. But seeing how God has changed me, and how I needed to have this relationship to make some of those changes, I wouldn’t trade it in, even knowing it would end. And I have to say, knowing that this relationship may or may not ever be what it was again makes me incredibly sad. But I am confident that God has a good work to complete in me. And if this is part of his plan (as I already see that it is in how God is moving in my life), then I will continue to take it day by day, trusting in God for his best, expectantly waiting to see how he will mold me into the woman he desires me to be.
In the words of “Shane and Shane”:
“When I think about the Lord
how He saved, how He raised me
how He filled me with the Holy Ghost
how He healed me to the uttermost
when I think about the Lord
how he picked me up
turned me around
how He set my feet
on solid ground
It makes me want to shout
hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus!
Lord, you're worthy
of all the glory, and all the honor
and all the praise!
Hallelujah! thank you, Jesus!
Lord, you're worthy
of all the glory, and all the honor
and all the praise!”
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Surfer Girl To Be
When I came out to college....6 years ago (yikes, when did I get old?...and old enough to ask a question like, "When did I get so old?")....I came with hopes and dreams of learning to surf. I've always loved the beach and everything about it...always envisioned myself marrying some blond, tan surfer dude from California. We would of course be rich and own a beach house, and spend our Saturday mornings running on the beach, or surfing together.
So, I told my brother-in-law that I wanted him to teach me. When that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, I asked a friend a college to teach me. 6 years later, and after asking a few other people, I'm finally learning. Surfing, the quintessential beach and summer sport. What true Californians do...what cute guys do...what tough chicks do.
I had visions of getting up on my board my first time out and finding out what it felt like to ride on a wave. Sure, it would take a while to get good, and it would be tough swimming past all of those waves, but it would be great. I'd go out every weekend and surf with all the dudes out early in the morning, the hardcore surfers. I'd finally be able to wear that "Surfer Chick" shirt I bought in Hawaii 6 years ago with pride; nevermind the fact I already got rid of it because I so wasn't a surfer chick, and had moved onto other, more trendy styles.
Oh, how foolish I was. My first time out with my friend Maceo went a bit more like this:
Get to the beach, and pull on our wetsuits and meander down to the sand with surfboards under arm, loving the feeling of totally fitting in with the Newport scene. Get to the sand, and realize that when the wind is blowing and you're carrying a 7-foot heavy slab around, the wind carries the board and you almost get knocked down. So, make it past the first element and get near the water. Study the waves (what am I looking for?) and head out into the cold Pacific water, ready to finally learn how to surf. We get to the point where you lay on the board and begin to paddle out. This is where my hopes and dreams are essentially dashed and I realize I am not going to be "surfer chick" anytime soon.
Laying down on the board apparently requires balance - who knew? I lay down, and pretty much immediately fall right off. Get back on, and paddle while wavering side to side, trying with all my might not to fall off again. "Why is it so hard to lay on a board?" I ask Maceo. The laughter begins, as I realize I'm such a joke and so not athletically inclined. I mean, I'm a pretty good swimmer, I have good core balance, but throw a board under me and it's all over. I find that I have this weird inclination to lean my weight to the right, and have to intentionally tell myself to shift my hips so that I don't keep falling over. We make it past the breaking waves, now out where we can sit on our boards and watch the waves come in.
Now if laying on the board was tough, sitting on the board is pretty much a comedy act. Over and over, I sit up on the board, and when the tiniest movement of a wave comes around me, I'm already off. I thought I had some semblance of balance, but apparently not. Why did no one ever tell me that simply sitting on a board requires mass skill in itself - forget actually standing up on a board. The next 20 minutes or so are basically a montage of me sitting on the board, bumped by waves, my board turning over, feet flying up in the air, hands batting the board away so as to not acquire any laseratoins, splashing, spitting, and laughing so much that it makes all of this that much harder.
I finally realize that sitting on the board is just not the way to go for me. Nor is laying sideways to see the waves. Instead, laying on the board, facing the shore, and waiting for Maceo to tell me when a wave is coming is a much more effective plan. I try to ignore the other surfers who can obviously tell I'm new and have no idea what I'm doing, and am pretty much just getting in their way.
The rest of the day goes a bit better, learning to watch and paddle as waves come, and simply riding them in body-board style. This part actually seems to work quite well for me. I don't know whether to aim right or left when I go with the wave, I just let Maceo tell me that. But riding them in works quite well for me; standing on a board, pfsh - who needs it? I always enjoyed body surfing in Hawaii, this is even better...perhaps I'll just stick with this....But no, that image of the surfer girl, the one who tells people, "Yeah, I surf. I go out about every week...no, I don't use a long board....the news said the surf is going to be great this weekend, I'm totally going out"...is stuck in my head. I wanted to learn how to surf, and gosh dangit I'm going to learn...I didn't come out here to body board.
The last hour of the morning I spend in the "white wash", attempting to "pop-up" on the board. Which turns out to be more like shallow body-boarding, legs flailing, feet getting cut up on shells, bashing against the board but never really making it up, and drinking a lot of salt water. But I can say for myself at this time, I would be a great knee-boarder. I'm a pro at getting my knees on the board and riding a wave. Even kneeling on one knee and one foot attempting to get up. Perhaps I will trade in my board for a boat and a knee board...oh wait, no, I'm here to learn how to surf.
3 hours later I am no surfer girl...I can't stand up on a board. But i can sit out in the water and watch waves and ride them in lying down. And I can kneel on my board when dropping in on a wave, er, foamy white wash breaking at shore. However, I am still triumphant. I am one step closer to being a surfer girl...I am on my way to learning and standing up on the waves and riding them in like the big boys.
(I've been out a few times since, and can happily say that I am now able to stand up on a board. Last night I was planning to actually try to ride the real waves, but the sky was overcast, the waves were choppy, and most of my time was spent trying not to be to swept down the shoreline and being taken out by a 9-foot board that probably weighs more than I do. )
One day soon I'll be able to strut proudly in my wetsuit, board under arm, knowing that I'm actually going out to ride the waves and cut through water with elegance and ease, instead of just being a poser with a borrowed surfboard and lots of bruises.
So, I told my brother-in-law that I wanted him to teach me. When that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, I asked a friend a college to teach me. 6 years later, and after asking a few other people, I'm finally learning. Surfing, the quintessential beach and summer sport. What true Californians do...what cute guys do...what tough chicks do.
I had visions of getting up on my board my first time out and finding out what it felt like to ride on a wave. Sure, it would take a while to get good, and it would be tough swimming past all of those waves, but it would be great. I'd go out every weekend and surf with all the dudes out early in the morning, the hardcore surfers. I'd finally be able to wear that "Surfer Chick" shirt I bought in Hawaii 6 years ago with pride; nevermind the fact I already got rid of it because I so wasn't a surfer chick, and had moved onto other, more trendy styles.
Oh, how foolish I was. My first time out with my friend Maceo went a bit more like this:
Get to the beach, and pull on our wetsuits and meander down to the sand with surfboards under arm, loving the feeling of totally fitting in with the Newport scene. Get to the sand, and realize that when the wind is blowing and you're carrying a 7-foot heavy slab around, the wind carries the board and you almost get knocked down. So, make it past the first element and get near the water. Study the waves (what am I looking for?) and head out into the cold Pacific water, ready to finally learn how to surf. We get to the point where you lay on the board and begin to paddle out. This is where my hopes and dreams are essentially dashed and I realize I am not going to be "surfer chick" anytime soon.
Laying down on the board apparently requires balance - who knew? I lay down, and pretty much immediately fall right off. Get back on, and paddle while wavering side to side, trying with all my might not to fall off again. "Why is it so hard to lay on a board?" I ask Maceo. The laughter begins, as I realize I'm such a joke and so not athletically inclined. I mean, I'm a pretty good swimmer, I have good core balance, but throw a board under me and it's all over. I find that I have this weird inclination to lean my weight to the right, and have to intentionally tell myself to shift my hips so that I don't keep falling over. We make it past the breaking waves, now out where we can sit on our boards and watch the waves come in.
Now if laying on the board was tough, sitting on the board is pretty much a comedy act. Over and over, I sit up on the board, and when the tiniest movement of a wave comes around me, I'm already off. I thought I had some semblance of balance, but apparently not. Why did no one ever tell me that simply sitting on a board requires mass skill in itself - forget actually standing up on a board. The next 20 minutes or so are basically a montage of me sitting on the board, bumped by waves, my board turning over, feet flying up in the air, hands batting the board away so as to not acquire any laseratoins, splashing, spitting, and laughing so much that it makes all of this that much harder.
I finally realize that sitting on the board is just not the way to go for me. Nor is laying sideways to see the waves. Instead, laying on the board, facing the shore, and waiting for Maceo to tell me when a wave is coming is a much more effective plan. I try to ignore the other surfers who can obviously tell I'm new and have no idea what I'm doing, and am pretty much just getting in their way.
The rest of the day goes a bit better, learning to watch and paddle as waves come, and simply riding them in body-board style. This part actually seems to work quite well for me. I don't know whether to aim right or left when I go with the wave, I just let Maceo tell me that. But riding them in works quite well for me; standing on a board, pfsh - who needs it? I always enjoyed body surfing in Hawaii, this is even better...perhaps I'll just stick with this....But no, that image of the surfer girl, the one who tells people, "Yeah, I surf. I go out about every week...no, I don't use a long board....the news said the surf is going to be great this weekend, I'm totally going out"...is stuck in my head. I wanted to learn how to surf, and gosh dangit I'm going to learn...I didn't come out here to body board.
The last hour of the morning I spend in the "white wash", attempting to "pop-up" on the board. Which turns out to be more like shallow body-boarding, legs flailing, feet getting cut up on shells, bashing against the board but never really making it up, and drinking a lot of salt water. But I can say for myself at this time, I would be a great knee-boarder. I'm a pro at getting my knees on the board and riding a wave. Even kneeling on one knee and one foot attempting to get up. Perhaps I will trade in my board for a boat and a knee board...oh wait, no, I'm here to learn how to surf.
3 hours later I am no surfer girl...I can't stand up on a board. But i can sit out in the water and watch waves and ride them in lying down. And I can kneel on my board when dropping in on a wave, er, foamy white wash breaking at shore. However, I am still triumphant. I am one step closer to being a surfer girl...I am on my way to learning and standing up on the waves and riding them in like the big boys.
(I've been out a few times since, and can happily say that I am now able to stand up on a board. Last night I was planning to actually try to ride the real waves, but the sky was overcast, the waves were choppy, and most of my time was spent trying not to be to swept down the shoreline and being taken out by a 9-foot board that probably weighs more than I do. )
One day soon I'll be able to strut proudly in my wetsuit, board under arm, knowing that I'm actually going out to ride the waves and cut through water with elegance and ease, instead of just being a poser with a borrowed surfboard and lots of bruises.
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