Which movie to watch?

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The eternal cold seeps into my spine again and I toss through the dull toned sweaters in my closet in search of something that will ward it away. I miss the colors of South Africa, in the clothes, in the food, in the people.  I grab my bright purple sweater, in hopes its saturation will be substitute for the hues I long to sense again.

The flu I caught in the traveling frenzy allows space and excuses to lie on the couch. Though I am still, the characters zip around the screen, drawing me into their reality. I enter into their turmoil and love stories with gladness. How long ago was it that I felt like I was in a living documentary?

The ocean that was so clear and vast, the mighty mountain that changed into rolling fields, and the bright, bright sun. Oh, how I miss that sun! It would break beads of sweat on your forehead if you more than sauntered down the street. It seemed to be the only things that shined on the South African people equally. The child digging in the trash two streets away from the mansion wrapped in barbed wire. The dirt scrubbed into the cement of Johannesburg in the church that sounded like heaven. The picture of the old man being held by two young ones, so he could place the ballot in box so his voice could be heard for the first time. We stuck out like a sore thumb in that long, white coach bus. No wonder it felt like a movie. We just watched and watched and watched.

I move back to my movie with the boy and girl so pretty and in love. They are the tools I use to zoom-in. Zoom-in so the world feels very, very small…insofar that I feel the center of it. Those blue eyes of hers are stunning and oh my, is she slight! I love her vintage style and I wonder if I should get straight across bangs. The love story transports me to my love stories, both past and future, and I curiously paint “what ifs” in my head. I become frustrated that I no appetite to eat. Twenty-four hours on the S&S diet (Saltines and Sprite) is far too long. I pull the soft blanket closer to my chin, over my bright purple sweater, and just watch. And watch and watch and watch.

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About Kate

I remember the first time I heard it. A lanky fourteen-year-old that had grown legs, but not an identity, hugging the cold hardwood floor on a hot summer day. The black plastic radio blared the hits today and yesterday. I rested my eyes, trying to push away the heat. I do not remember the songs that proceeded or followed it, but I do remember the grin that broke out when I heard "...she checks out Mozart while she does Taebo." As cliche as it sounds, my young teenage heart found hope in the confident uniqueness of Train's "Drops of Jupiter" mystery woman. I wanted to be her. Well, maybe not her, but someone who lived authentically even if it was slightly puzzling others. I hated the idea of being inconsistant, but her contradictions were not inconsistency, but rather her journey to connecting the very different parts of her life together. They made sense, because she was her. And it even inspired others to question and develop..."reminds me that there is room to grow." Since then, I have been "tracing my ways through the constellations" on a sort of "soul vacation." I have been met and surrounded by a Divine Light, whose love, truth, and justice has pierced the darkness. The drops of Jupiter in my hair are cherish friends, big questions, and unexpected humor. I use this blog as a way to share some of the journey. Thanks for joining in, even if its for a moment. "The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world." John 1:9

2 responses »

  1. Oh Kate, I am so sorry you are not feeling well. Remember, even if the world is zooming around you and you feel like you’re wasting time or missing something (how I remember feeling when ill) take the time to realize that your story, the one happening right now, obviously includes this illness, and there’s purpose for it. As you watch things happening around you or replaying memories, I pray that you hear God’s voice speaking through it all. Remember what he spoke to his own Son? “You’re my Beloved, whom I love. On you my favor rests.” Then Jesus says to us, “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.” The Father loves the Son, the Son loves Us, loves YOU!
    Miss and love you,
    Tyney

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