Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Mathematical Musings

In the midst of exams here, sorry for my lack of posting! I've only got one to go -- math -- and I'm writing it Monday morning. I should be practicing my probability, which is a bit rusty still, but my brain is such a muddle of fractions and decimals and equations that I honestly don't know how I can possibly keep studying. It really does seem that the more I study, the less I understand.

I'm not overly worried about doing poorly on the exam -- I've calculated that, even if I get a low mark on it, I can still retain a 90-average because of other work that I've done in the course. My concern isn't that I'll bring down my mark; it's that I'll let my teacher down. Just a few days ago, he told me that he was really pleased with how I was doing in the course and asked if he could use one of my projects to show as an example to future classes.

This was a very pleasant surprise, considering how much I've hated math all my life. Oh, I know that most everyone "hates" math -- but I'm sure that few people have ever cried every day for a whole year before math class, as I did in fourth grade (we were learning long division -- now, I have a scientific calculator for that chore!). Math has always scared the wits out of me, and, even though I've always managed to scrape by with A's in the subject, I never really understood it or felt confident in it. It's only in my final year of high school that I've managed to find an aspect of math which I enjoy. I never expected to like math -- much less be good at it -- so this has served as a nice lesson in doing hard things for me.

The problem is, I still feel like my good grades aren't really representative of what I know. In many of the units, I only got high marks because tests were easy and I happened to memorize the right notes; not so much because I understood what I was learning.

And now I'm feeling the pressure. My teacher, who thinks I'm great at math, expects me to get an equally great mark on the exam, and I just don't think I'll be able to manage it. I've memorized all the formulas and practiced all the questions, but get stuck as soon as I encounter a new question, and only manage to understand it after I check the Answer Key. Plus, my brain's really, really about to melt.

So I'm really going to let down my teacher on the exam -- and I hate that feeling! We've all seen singers release not-so-great albums, athletes do sub-par on the Olympics, writers publish disappointing sequels -- I hate to think that I'm going to make someone feel that way with my own work. I really don't like letting people down; whether I'm blogging, Flickr'ing, or working on schoolwork, I'm always worried about how my work will measure up to all that I've done in the past. In fact, that's why I quit writing for several years after sixth grade -- I wrote a few good (for my age) stories that won me an award, and I stopped experimenting, afraid that I would fail to produce something equally good.

This fear of pressure is also why I stopped blogging three times (on other blogs, not this one) and quit art in middle school. It's ruled a lot of my life. I've learned, in time, to overcome it, but it's getting the better of me tonight. And it's making me wonder.

Why do I care so much about what my teacher will think of me if I fail, and so little about what God thinks when I disappoint him? God has seen me as a devoted, trusting, and on-fire disciple, and now he sees me slipping away, running after the transient, emphemeral charms and deceptions of this earth instead of stepping closer to him. He sees me trip over the world's worthless lies, and fall so, so far below what he wants and expects me to be.

Why do I care so little?

Granted, there's no pressure. In God, I am free from pressure, competition, deadline, and stress. He wants me to work, rest, and commune with him out of my own will, not as a response to prodding or force. It's my choice to serve God, and it's my choice to care.

Tonight, I feel at peace. Whether I do poorly on tomorrow's exam, or whether I hear another "Good job, Oksana," I know that only one thing matters: it's whether or not I will hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Only one thing matters.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Seventeen

Note: The date above isn't my actual birthday; I'm not allowed to give the real date online (parents; privacy reasons), but it did happen recently! :)

I turned 17 today.

Before I go deeper into that, let me backtrack for a moment. There's something I need to say about my "sweet 16": honestly, I'm not very proud of it. Somewhere (maybe even on this blog; I can't remember), I called it "a season of realization of my fallenness." I did a lot of things that I was, and am still, ashamed of; and in many ways the year was more a "shrinking" for me than a time of growth.

So it isn't without a little trepidation that I face a new year of life: the year when, God-willing, I will graduate high school, move to a new city, and begin university. I have many regrets about my past: I feel as if I've wasted far more of my life than I should have (and, if you look at my hours and hours of internet surfing, you'll agree) while failing to learn the lessons that are supposed to lead me into adulthood. My "spiritual maturity" level is still set somewhere between the pacifiers and the first steps, when I should be running marathons (1 Cor. 9:24). All my life, I've been rejecting opportunities, shirking responsibilities, and neglecting Jesus, and there's been a nagging hopelessness in me that this year will probably be the same.

However, just a few days before my birthday, God gave me a revelation that has been encouraging me as I enter my 17th year. It's a very simple statement, yet eternally comforting: God doesn't define me by my past.

This truth hit me while I was reading Numbers. What amazed me most about chapter 20 was the fact that God didn't care about Moses' and Aaron's track-record of faith when telling them they would not see the promised land because of their new faithlessness. Who they were at present was more important to him than who they had been in the past.

The incident brought to mind an exchange between Jesus and Peter in the New Testament: Matthew 16, to be exact. The fact that he had just named Peter the Rock of the Church and the keeper of heaven's key didn't stop Jesus from rebuking him as an instrument of satan several minutes later. Jesus was concerned with who Peter was now, not five minutes ago. In the New and Old Testaments alike, the present meant more to God than the past -- the long-lived faith of Moses, Aaron, and Peter lost importance in the face of the present.

I stopped to think about that. Even if I had been an amazing Christian last year, all my past faith and piety would not remove my responsibility for the now. The Bible shows that a faithful past can teach you lessons and equip you with Godly skills, but it cannot do the work that you must do today. It can be a well of encouragement and beautiful memories, but not an excuse to slack off ("I read my Bible every day last year; will I really lose out if I miss a day?").

But what what about a faithless past like mine? The Bible shows us that side of the picture as well -- a notorious theif hangs crucified beside a King, recieving a new life with his last breath. A persecutor escapes a lifelong hunger for the blood of saints, and his murderous hands become palms of apostolic healing. A prostitute faces judgement, wincing at wounds of her past, and is welcomed into God's family. Certainly, God can make good use of broken yesterdays.

Our pasts -- with all their shame and all their glory -- are in God's hands; to us, he gives a daily gift called the present, and that is what we must focus on. "Today," he tells us. "Today ... do not harden your hearts." So, even though my life so far has been less-than-satisfactory, God isn't going to let it haunt me. He has put away my past, and yearns for me today.

Today.

Today I turn. Seventeen, but not only that.

I turn to Him.

Love, Oksy

Picture from Jupiter Images.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Gary

In my 3-and-a-quarter years of high school, I don't think I ever saw him talk to anyone.

I had him in a couple of my classes. Every day, without fail (excluding test days), he spent the entire period with his head laid down on the table. Sleeping. Or so it seemed -- I mean, it's not like anyone ever bothered to check. He wasn't on my mind a lot -- or ever. I only thought about him when a teacher would ask off-hand in the middle of a lesson, Is that Gary sleeping again? Had he been oblivious to the giggles and the laughter as jokes about him cracked over his head? I knew that he wasn't because, sometimes, he'd lift his head and look up long enough to show that he was not asleep. Yet that didn't stop me from laughing along.

When he looked at you, his eyes would flinch nervously -- or defiantly -- from yours. His expression was fierce. And utterly silent.

I never thought about him. No one ever did. Until Thursday, that is.

On Thursday, Gary brought a home-made bomb to school.

The police were called in. His locker raided, his belongings confiscated, his school records stamped with "Expelled."

It's probably the last I'll ever see of him.

However, it certainly hasn't been the last I've thought of him. My first thought, right when I heard the news, was probably the same one that's running through your mind right now: My gosh -- that could have killed someone! Was he crazy?! How could he?

My second thought was: Well, what did you expect?

The bomb he brought was no joke: no little sparkler or mini-firework. The bomb could have left people blind, disfigured, or worse. But what did I expect? The guy who was, to us, nothing more than some wierd kid who always slept and never talked -- did I expect him to see us as anything more than a homogenous group of jeering, uncaring teenagers? Could I really expect someone upon whom we had never bestowed any value to see our value? We had no regard for his life -- why were we so surprised to find that he had no regard for ours?

In no way am I condoning what he did, or planned to do. I'm merely saying that we'd been doing the same to him for many years, minus the explosives. And I did nothing to set myself apart and show him the love that God has for him.

Thursday evening, I put these thoughts aside for a while to surf some blogs. On one of them, Casting Crowns' "If We Are The Body" came on in the flash music player. I sang along, swaying my head and lifting my eyes at all the appropriate moments.

To God, that must have been one of the most ironic moments of history.

"But if we are the Body

Why aren't His arms reaching?

Why aren't His hands healing?

Why aren't His words teaching?

And if we are the Body

Why aren't His feet going?

Why is His love not showing them there is a way?

There is a way..."

In my 3-and-a-quarter years of high school, I don't think I ever saw him talk to anyone. Certainly not to myself.

Or maybe, I was the one. Who never stopped to speak. Never stopped to listen.

Name of student changed to protect his identity. Photo from JupiterImages.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Live and Let Live

I saw that video a while ago, and was really moved by it. I watched it again, and again, and again, and soon enough, the bigger picture began to unfold. Why is it that we so often avoid things because of our limitations, incompetence, or inabilities? Why, when there are so many other people who can be our support and help us do the things that we alone cannot? Is it just because we want to steal the show? To be the only spotlit, center-of-attention performer -- or else not perform at all?

Seeing this video makes me wonder how much could we do if we could only let others be for us the things that we are not... and do for them what they cannot do. It seems as if we live our lives fruitlessly trying to perform an arabesque without a leg to lift, while our healthy arms dangle uselessly. We try to choose what we want to do, when God has already chosen other roles for us -- roles that might not be as glamorous or fun as those of others, but roles that are perfectly allotted by God to make the Christian body into one complete, unified being.

I mentioned a while ago about the hard (for me) decision to become a writer. I had been jumping from one thing to the next -- trying to teach myself piano, trying to master wheel pottery, trying to learn to sing, trying to learn Italian on my own -- and ended up leaving my gift for writing stagnant and under-nourished. I was like a gardener who planted a hundred different seeds, and spent so much time jumping around from one to the next that none of them ended up growing.

I'm all for trying new things, but there's a difference between a focused, concentrated effort on several key projects, and spreading yourself too thin. I think that, if -- figuratively speaking -- God gave me a "hand" so that I could be a hand to those who have no hand, I should focus on using that hand instead of bemoaning the foot that I don't have... there are others who "be" that foot for me. That's how we are made: there are no trials that have no way out, no deficiencies that cannot be filled in by others.

One of the central characterstics of a servant is to do your part to the best of your ability, and let others do their part. I mean, Jesus, who has absolutely no incompetencies, imperfections, or inabilities, still allows and encourages us to be his hands and feet. It's not that he needs us to do these things for him -- it's that he entrusts us to do his work here on earth. He lets us do it so that we can grow.

I guess we sometimes misinterpret messages such as "expand your horizons," or "do hard things," and turn them into instruments of selfishness. It becomes a race for quantity, not quality. You learn to sing, though you nave neither talent, nor desire, nor passion for it -- you just want to put your hundredth accomplishment on the list of "Things I Can Do." Your lackluster efforts are copied by other people who are looking for easy ways expand their lists. The standards of quality in the music world begin to fall. People who are passionate, anointed musicians get discouraged by the low standards invading the industry, and either fall to meet those standards, or choose a different path.

And all this time, your God-given talent for drawing is left neglected and forgotten by you.

Wouldn't it have been better for everyone if you'd fulfilled your role and let others fulfill theirs? You see, that's what Jesus does -- he lets us do his work so that we can grow from it. Sometimes, you've just got to give up the microphone to the people who were meant to sing -- who will actually grow by singing.

The young woman in the video didn't try to perform lifts using her one arm -- she let the man do that, and he ended up strengthening his arms. Likewise, he didn't try to do jumps and footwork that required two legs -- he left that job to the young lady's strong legs. Together, they reinforced their strengths and filled in each other's weaknesses.

And it was beautiful.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

A couple of things

...that I felt like blogging about, but which didn't really deserve separate posts of their own. This post isn't going to have a ton of insight of depth, just a list of interesting and not-so-interesting things that have been going on in my life.

1. MMM is out! The new issue is now up on the website (which has undergone a major redesign). Please click on the cover to your left to go read it. And maybe tell a friend or two... pretty please? :)

2. I'm very busy. I've got a lot of homework and assignments piling up on me, so my blogging will be on the more sporadic side for now. I hope to get back to it soon, because I find that in many ways, it's a really fulfilling exercise -- it prompts you to reflect on your day and search your life for lessons and knowledge that can bless others. So I want to start blogging regularly at some point...

3. Today was the first "serious" frost of the season -- absolutely beautiful. :) Of course, I'm wearing gloves as I type this (I never knew how warm apartments were 'till I went to live in a townhouse) but I'm looking forward to tomorrow's frost.

4. A skunk tried to break into our back door. (I think it was trying to get back at me for using skunks as metaphors for sin/evil a few posts ago. Oops. ;)

5. A couple of weeks ago, something strange happened. In the middle of the night, for no rational or explainable reason, the battery fell out of my alarm clock. Which made no sense, since, for 8 years (yes, my clock is old), generations of batteries have sat tightly in the battery compartment with no problems at all. Anyway, back to the point. So I woke up and put the battery back in. The next night, one of the hands fall off! Wha-? How do you explain that?!

6. The song, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day," by Casting Crowns, is indescribably beautiful.

7. Google notebooks is seriously one of the most helpful, useful resources you can find for organizing major school projects. I think I'll start using it to put together ideas and drafts MMM.

8. Apparently, "dwelve" isn't a real word -- the right word is "delve." I honestly never knew that.

9. I need to block out some time to spend with God, because I've been getting very distant lately.

10. I can't wait to get my hands on the new ESV study Bible. It hasn't been available in any book stores in my area, but I really hope it gets stocked soon, because I'm going through the OT right now, and I'd love some visuals and commentaries to help me through.

So there you go... a hodge-podge of things that have happened since my last post. Be back later!

Oksy

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Life is But a Dream

I had a dream today. In it, I was working on a painting for a school project, and somebody I am very close with came up to me and tried to help me. She was more of a hindrance than a help, though, and -- long story short -- she ended up mixing the entire contents of two bottles of paint together so that I no longer had the most important colour I needed to finish the painting with. I lost it. "Get away from me!" I yelled.

Then I woke up. Gee, I thought, that was nothing to get angry over. It was just a dream.

That's the point, God gently told me.

If this had been real life, I can bet you this whole blog that I would have probably reacted in a very similar way. But 'real life' -- this life -- is but a dream compared to all of eternity. Do I really want to look back someday and think, what a thing to get upset about. What a superficial, fleeting, transient matter to get caught up in. How quickly it passed -- how unnecessary was my anger!

Yes God.

That's the point.

Love, Oksana

Thursday, October 2, 2008

What I've been doing

The last post hopefully gave you a little update and insight into my thoughts on my lovely new location on this planet... now I'll tell you what's been filling up my time during this literal and figuartive 'season of change' ...

1. Multi Media Ministry. The newest issue of my e-zine (see the link on the sidebar) is in its final stages of production: it's been amazing to see everything coming together. I'm tempted to tell you about an important lesson that God taught me several weeks ago while I was working on a feature that didn't seem to be coming along, but I'll leave that for the next post I have planned. Meanwhile, here's a quick list of what you can expect from the fall 2008 issue: an extensive Photography feature, with work and interviews from several teenage photographers; a back-to-school special feature with dozens of practical ideas and tips on serving God in school; an interview with CCM artist Tayla Hodges; as well as articles on The Rebelution, Ananias and Sapphira, and persecuted Christians. Hope you guys check it out when it's done (next week, God-willing :).

2. Reading Mansfield Park. I was really unsure about whether or not to take this book out of the library -- when I'd looked it up on the web, most of the reviews called it things like 'flat,' 'long-winded,' and 'undimensional.' However, it was the only Jane Austen available at the time, so I decided to take a chance, and I'm so glad I did -- I actually enjoyed it more than Pride and Prejudice. The problem with P&P was that it was a bit too predictable -- predictable enough that the ending was given away on the book's back cover! With Mansfield Park, I had no clue how the story would turn out, even 20 pages from the end. I think part of the reason for that is the 'unidimensionality' that people complained about so much. The characters in the book are indeed so typical, so 'set-in-their ways' and clichéd that they barely ever act out-of-character, so you're left with a lot of suspense over who will give in first. (The characters do end up developing over the course of the story, but in a really natural, slow, and unforced way. I love novels that are allowed to run their course that way). The situations in the story are very real, many of them still relevant to our lives, and I think you'll be surprised at how much food-for-thought you'll find in this novel. Highly recommended!

3. Writing a short story. It's funny -- I started writing about a little girl called Jamie, who was poor (I definitely think Mansfield Park sparked that idea!). She was walking to school during the wintertime and hiding her hat in her pocket because it was a second-hand hat which had belonged to another girl at her school, and Jamie didn't want to reveal her financial situation.

Somehow, the story sort of evolved into a tale about abortion during the mid-20th century.

Yeah, I know. Don't ask me how. I just think it's so cool when a story takes on a life of its own, and turns into something you never expected it to become. I'm not even close to having finished it, but I'll post it when I'm done. It still involves the little girl and a hat of some sort, as well as a teacher (that's where the abortion part comes in), and it might be set during the Great Depression; I'm not quite sure yet. (If it is, I'll have to find a less modern name than Jamie). I'm not trying to make it into some preachy social commentary, though I am pro-life; I'm just telling a story... and I've enjoyed doing that so far. :)

4. Trying not to have too many emotional break-downs over university. This has really challenged me to put my faith in action. I write so much about giving things up to God and trusting him to take control, but I've lost count of all the times I've cried this summer/fall over not knowing what to do with my future. As I researched more and more uni programs, my list of options grew smaller and smaller, until one thing was left for me to apply for. It's not my favourite thing to do. It's not my dream job. It is, however, something I am good at, and it's one of the most-needed skills in Christian ministries -- and that's my greatest aspiration: to have a career in which I can actively glorify God. The career I'm talking about? Writing.

It's taken me a lot of 'wrestling with God' to realize that he wants me to be a writer, even if my personal preference is, by a large margin, graphic design. I've always taken my writing ability for granted, and I think God wants me to finally offer it up to him, instead of letting my gift stagnate while I veer off into other things. Which is hard, because I don't actually enjoy the writing as much as I enjoy those other things (art!). I guess this is a lesson in denying myself and doing what's best for him. (No doubt learning a lot along the way, as well!)

Other than that, I've been sort of drifting in and out of my walk with God... consistency is something I really need to work on. I've been learning many things about him, though, which I plan on sharing on this blog now that I've gotten all the updates on my life out of the way.

Hope everybody has a blessed Saturday! :)
Oksy

PS. In case anyone's wondering (and has actually read up to this point in the post without falling asleep! ;), that pastel drawing I was working on is far away in a box somewhere, so you won't be seeing any progress on that front for a while! Sorry!

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Where I've been living

Hi friends! :)

Wow... it seems like an eternity since I last sat down to write a blog post. Lots of exciting things have happened, and, while I'm still somewhat in the process of catching up with all your blogs, I'll take a few minutes to fill you in with what my own life's been like. In a nutshell, I no longer live in an apartment (yay!) because, for the first time in my life, we've moved to a townhouse.

It didn't take me long to get used to the change, but there are a lot of little things that still catch me off-guard about living here. Like being so near the ground. When I was at the apartment, I always had the habit of looking out the window at what was going on below. There was a little crows' nest in a tree below our window that I loved peeking into... I watched the birds grow from tiny babies to dark-feathered teenagers who constantly squabbled for food. There was a tennis court where people walked their dogs or ran around with their kids, but rarely played tennis; I loved watching that too. Now, everything is so big and close and life-sized that I feel like I'm intruding on peoples' privacy when I peer out the window. It just feels awkward when you're trying to look at a squirrel (I never saw so many squirrels up close and personal before!) and there's someone sitting in their back-yard -- not the best scenario for taking pictures, either. I've barely taken any since coming here, mostly because I've been so busy, but here are two I snapped yesterday:

Just a note about that... from the ninth-floor window of our old apartment, all the treetops were below us. It's an interesting feeling to be surrounded by trees, to look outside and not see the horizon because the view is obstructed by branches and leaves. Because of that, I no longer get the direct, uninterrupted sunlight I had at my old apartment: the light here flickers. I was sitting in the living room at about five o'clock one day when I noticed that. It was a really magical moment... the sunlight produced a kaleidoscope of moving, shifting shadows as it passed through the branches and fluttering leaves outside the window. It created the same sort of atmosphere as a flickering candle does, only in the daytime. Little, minute details like these are what I notice and love most about this new home.

My favourite room here is actually my own. I had it painted in Behr's "Ocean Pearl" -- a sort of sage-green, beige-ish, greyish tone. It's given everything in the room a sort of vintagey feel, and, as time goes on, I plan to add some little Victorian details like roses and letter-boxes to accentuate this theme.

Anyways, this post has been way too long. I'll write a second post, "What I've been doing," in a few days.

Love, Oksy

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Lesson Learned.

As I was walking into my apartment building the other day, I saw a frail, elderly man walking up to the elevator. I noticed that he had deep blue eyes; they stood out against his pale skin and fine silvery hair, but they seemed a little unfocused -- uncertain. He clutched a newspaper with his plaid sleeves.

In our building, we have one big elevator on the left, and a small one on the right. Between them is the call button. The man entered the lobby from the left, passing the large elevator, and pressed the button. He didn't turn to watch the elevator he had walked by, as if he only expected the other one to open. Instead, he turned his head towards the large panoramic window by the door, and commented, "It sure is windy out there." Behind him, I saw the large elevator open with a "ding!" and, after a few seconds, close. He didn't hear it: he was waiting for the other elevator, and watching the wind.

I felt like going up to him and giving him a big hug. I didn't, but that's what I wanted to do.

As I thought this over later, God spoke to me about my own approach to life. The sweet old man's situation seemed to be a reflection of my own:

I ask God for a blessing, but I've already decided in my mind what form I want that blessing to take. I'm so busy waiting for what I've determined is right for me, that I don't realize it when God opens bigger doors for me. That, or I'm too caught up in the winds and storms of the outside world that I forget to focus on what I can do in the safe arms of God.

I think there's a lot to be learned from the mundane little occurances around us. What have you learned today?

Love, Oksana

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Fragment

I woke up briefly at 5 this morning, probably from being so nervous over the first day of school that I couldn't sleep. Faintly, I could hear birds chirping and cawing, and, while I slipped out of bed, the sound grew in intensity as my consciousness awoke. I turned to my window, and, for a second, the sight arrested me.

The scene was cloacked with a rich, frosted blue. Each form was gauzy in the fog, outlined with black shadows and softly kissed by the fading starlight. A streetlamp cast a rusty, orange glow upon the road, its ruddy light fraying as it crept into the center of the asphalt. The air was filled with the sound of birds.

It lasted just a minute; then, the deep, dark blue began to lift, replaced by that misty, grey hour just before the dawn. The birds continued to call, each voice weaving its way through many other voices, echoing back endlessly from horizon to horizon. Wind tousled the pale and drowsy trees, and fell in wispy cobwebs to the damp road. And the streetlight still shone, like a beacon of silence on a planet determined to shake itself free from the night.

As I watched this unfold, words and thoughts just welled up in me... it was like entering a poem or tiptoeing through a fairlytale. I love this view.

In just a few days, the view is going to change. We're relocating to a different part of the city... or, rather, a different spot in this part of the city. So, to commemorate its beauty, I'll share with you some snapshots I'd taken from my bedroom window at various times over the last two years. Enjoy... :)

Love, Oksana

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Track 6

I'm probably not going to do a track-inspired post for Track 5 of the Matthew Perryman Jones CD... The song is called "All the King's Horses," and the only memory/thought it brings up is a situation involving two other people that I'm not going to post about on the world-wide-web... so here's track 6 (my favourite song from the album!)...

Lord, I feel the weight of a mountain

Pressing down inside my soul

I can see the pillars fallin’

There ain’t nothin’ left to hold

The reigns are broken too

I can’t steer this

There’s nothing I can do

Except to throw my arms out

Take me to

A place where love can mend these wounds

Where mystery can dance with truth

And the broken soul finds refuge...

Lyrics from "Refuge," by Matthew Perryman Jones.

This year was a real eye-opener for me: a season of realization. Realization of my own fallenness. I failed God in just about every way a human can fail him. I also hurt a lot of the people around me, needlessly (not that people ever "need" to be hurt, but they really didn't deserve it at all). When I did manage to be polite and kind towards others, it was only outward; inside I was losing hope fast. The standard I held myself to kept slipping lower and lower with every new sin I added to the list. My grades slipped horribly -- for the first time in my life, I actually toyed with the idea of skipping an exam (which, thanks to God's grace, I did very well on, despite having only a single afternoon to study a 400-page textbook).

I was so relieved to escape into summer. I knew vaguely that I wanted this summer to bring me closer to God, but I didn't expect all the changes he's made in my life in these past two months. Wow -- two months! It seems like a lifetime since July, when I let the Son sweep me off my feet and ask me: "How much do you really love me, Oksana?" No, scratch that. He's always been asking me that, ever since I told him I'd be his forever. What made this summer different was that I was finally broken enough to answer him honestly.

Now it's time to be honest with you, and tell you a secret: I have not read the entire Bible. I've read the NT and most of the Psalms, and started 3 different yearly Bible-reading plans, but got so far behind on each that I never made it far past Numbers. This summer, I felt compelled to begin reading it again; for different reasons than in the past. Before then, I'd read the Bible just to have it done with, to fit in with more mature Christians and appear more knowledgeable. Obviously, that wasn't my conscious thought-process each time I began to read it, but there was a lot of pride involved. This summer, I didn't print off reading plans that I knew I'd never be able to keep. Instead, I took a few blank pages of paper, and really began to dig deep into the word. I spent an entire afternoon making notes and meditating on half a chapter of Genesis.

I started to eat the Bible.

Not literally, of course. (When I was 1-3 years old, I did eat books. Apparently, it's not that uncommon -- eating non-food items is a condition called "pica" and happens often with little kids... and I ate all the paper I could get. Back to topic...). By "eating the Bible," I mean satisfying my hunger for God. I didn't just skim, I tried my best to savour and understand every word... give each God-written phrase the attention it deserved. A month later, I'm still in the middle of Genesis, and I don't feel the need to rush it. I've learned tons, some of which I will post on this blog, some of which I'll share in my e-zine (which, by the way, needs some contributions -- see this link for details). I feel refreshed and ready to pursue a better way. It's time to put all my 'lessons learned' to use.

School starts tomorrow, and I still have some thinking/praying to do, so, 'till then, as usual...

Love, Oksy

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Prayers for a friend

I'm sure Laura won't mind me posting this. Today, the following update was posted at her blog.

Laura asked me to post this if she didn't and seeing as she hasn't - I thought I should. Right now, Laura and her family need your thoughts and prayers. Especially her Papa. If you could be so gracious as to do so it would be very much appreciated. She would have written this herself, however she had to drive to Mass. last night around 11 or so. Her Papa is dying. I'm sure we all know just a bit of what's that like; I know I do.

I met Laura at a forum where she gave me some very helpful advice on a problem I was having. Since then, we've been reading each other's blogs and commenting occasionally. I don't know her in person... and I've only known her through the web for just a few weeks, but she really feels like a sister to me. She is a beautiful example of a Christian, a very talented writer, and one of the friendliest, most encouraging people you can ever meet. Please send up your prayers today for our sister-in-Christ and her family...

Love, Oksana

Monday, August 11, 2008

Track 1

Hey everyone...

I've had serious blogging-block for the past few days, so I've decided to try something different. I downloaded a really great album by Christian indie artist Matthew Perryman Jones at Noisetrade.com (a site where independent Christian musicians offer their music for free to fans). It's an album that has really inspired me and made me think, so I've decided to write a series of posts inspired by each of the tracks on the CD, "Throwing Punches in the Dark." We'll see how it goes. :)

Meghan's Song

Baby, sleep in peace tonight
Angels bend to watch the sight
And may your dreams be sweet tonight
Dance the sky in sweet delight

And know I love you
I always will
It’s my favorite story
I have to tell

And Baby, let’s go far away
See this world that God has made
And know our hearts are in his hand
This lovely one who counts the sands...

Wow... now that I've actually posted the song, I'm not sure what to write. I guess I'll just share a few of the things that it makes me think about and feel:

"...may your dreams be sweet tonight..."
I remember for most of my life, all I had were nightmares. I don't know why. I never looked forward to sleep because I'd dream about all of the horrible stuff I'd seen on the news or heard about in school... I guess I was just a really sensitive kid. What I tried to forget about by day -- the wars, the violence, the slavery, the terrorism that was happening all over the world -- haunted me by night. It wasn't until I began to pray a little about the things in the world that bothered me, that the nightmares fell away almost instantly. I think that's what nightmares are, sometimes: reminders of the things that God wants us to deal with, so that we can sleep on this earth with a cleaner conscience.

"...dance the sky in sweet delight..."
I remember this one dream I had when I was about 3 or 4... for the longest time, I couldn't understand whether it was a dream or a real memory, but my parents tell me it couldn't have been real, since there was no such spot in Ukraine, where we lived at the time. I dreamt that my mom and I were walking through a marketplace, with elderly ladies selling their wares on either side of us. We kept on walking, and suddenly, the road ended in a rocky cliff. Beyond it was a brilliant crimson sunset. There was nothing below; only glowing sky... we were at the edge of the earth.

"...let's go far away / see this world that God has made..."

I've never travelled. I've never actually gone on vacation or journeyed long distances for reasons other than moving. I'd love to, but I know I'll probably never have a chance to visit all the places where I want to go... all the oceans, all the plains, all the mountains, all the sunsets that I want to see. Yet, I don't feel as if I'm missing much more than what seasoned tourists experience. I might not be able to see a sunset over the mountains, but God still gives me ways to experience it...

The photos above, which I took on different days, give me a glimpse of what the smouldering sun must look like over the icy heights of the Alps. Even if I never go there, I've still seen the same kind of beauty, and didn't have to look much farther than my own windowpane. Just like, sometimes, a caring hug or a warm word can give you a glimpse into what heaven is like. As Emily Dickinson would say, "I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; yet I know how the heather looks, and what a wave must be."

Track 2 of my CD-inspired posts coming soon...

Love, Oksana

Monday, August 4, 2008

Pet Stores

This post is dedicated to my dad. I told him I'd give him a link to my blog if he read it and commented occasionally. He agreed (so, daddy, I'm hoping to find a comment here, sooner or later ;). Then I asked dad to give me a blog topic. After much deliberation and a visit to a pet store, he decided on ... "visits to pet stores." Go figure! Well, here goes...

Ever since I can remember, there was barely ever a shopping trip that went by without me dragging my parents into a pet store. The only pets I've ever had are the occasional spiders or ladybugs that wandered into our house every now and then, but absence really has made the heart grow fonder. I'm not obsessed by animals to the point that I value them as much as humans, but I just love the way they can bring people joy without even trying. Here are a few pet-related memories that still make me smile:

The last time I entered a pet store, there were these two funny little lizards that absolutely stole my heart. As I walked up to them, they seemed to be completely "out of it," staring off into space. However, as soon as I put my hand up to the glass, they sprang up and scrambled to catch up with my fingers. I moved my hand around for a while, the lizards following my every move, until I stopped in the middle of their aquarium. With absolute precision, they paused right in front of my hand; one lizard stepped up on top of the other to form a neat little stack, and they pressed up their noses to the glass where my fingers were. I thought that was the sweetest thing ever, and spent two minutes just laughing to myself. I think we could learn a thing or two from these lizards -- how to willingly step out of our everyday lives to meet and commune with God, how to follow him with trust and loyalty, how to use teamwork to make sure we hit the mark he wants us to live up to as precisely as we can.

That was one of two big lessons I learned at the pet store. The other one happened a while ago. I went to a mall where there was a huge cage, divided in two, with an open top. In the first section of the cage were guinea pigs; in the second, bunnies. This was the first time I had ever seen such a pet store display where I could actually reach in and pet the animals, so I jumped at this once-in-a-long-time opportunity and put my hand in to pet one of the guinea pigs. It completely freaked out and ran away from me. I don't know who was more scared -- it or I! I hadn't expected the guinea pig to be so untrusting towards someone who meant no harm. To soothe my hurt feelings, I cautiously reached into the bunnies' half of the cage, hoping for better luck. Almost immediately, several warm, soft, furry little creatures scurried towards me.

It was one of those great moments in life.

:P Really, though, I couldn't stop talking about that for weeks. It was one of my first real encounters with animals, after hundreds of slightly-disheartening visits to pet stores in which the furry lodgers had ignored my pleas for their attention. And my five minutes petting those little rabbits meant so much to me at that moment. It felt nice to just be wanted. That they finally gave back some of the love I'd been giving to animals all my life. That experience showed me a lot about loving God and other people. When I remember how bad it felt to be "snubbed" by the guinea pigs, I remind myself to be "bunny-like" in my trust towards others.

Not all per-store visits came with a moral. Some were just plain funny, like a golden retriever puppy who was sleeping so soundly, he didn't even feel his brother energetically devouring his right ear. It gave everyone a good laugh. :) Other visits were heartbreaking, like a baby chihuahua whose eyes looked so tragically sad that my mind whispered a little prayer before I could stop myself: Lord, please let him find a good home. Either way, pet store visits always give me something to look forward to, and later think/laugh about.

So, dad, there you go -- that's my little spiel on pet stores. Hope you enjoyed it!

And, to all other blog readers who have grown up around animals and wouldn't even blink if a lizard or bunny came running up to you, I know I probably sound like some deprived child; but one of my parents is allergic to animals, so that's why I've never had a pet and get so excited over little things like these!

Love, Oksana

PS. Here's a portrait of one of my past pets, a dancing ladybug! :)

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

A little overwhelmed; Part 2

Now that I have the complaining part done (see my last post), I'll explain the other part of this crazy thing called preparing for university.

Let's go back to June. It was a hot and muggy (I honestly don't remember if it was either, but let's pretend just for the dramatic effect!) summer's day when I was called out class to my guidance councelor. To my dismay, it turned out that both of the art classes I had signed up for had conflicted with my schedule. I was really discouraged and disappointed -- I didn't know if I absolutely needed these classes for university, but I knew they'd be a big asset. When it comes to art, I rarely find the initiative in myself to actually sit down and draw or paint. Just taking out that box of paints or that tin of pencils takes more effort than the art itself. Having a teacher kick me into creative mode saves me a the biggest step: starting.

A few days later, through a Flickr group which I visited incessantly while I was supposed to be studying for exams, I discovered a website called TheRebelution.com. Two teenagers, Alex and Brett Harris, had put together this site for other teens, whom they believed the world was robbing of their potential. What struck me about this website was that its message was incredibly simple, and applicable to every area of our lives.

The simplicity of the message was encapsulated in just three words: "do hard things." As the Harris twins say, everybody around us seems to expect the very least from us, teenagers: they expect us to slack off in school, to be messy, to procrastinate, to abuse substances, to idolize celebrities, to get hung up on our body image, to get into trouble... you get the point. The phrase "dealing with teenagers" brings up over 24,000 hits on Google -- apparently, teenagers are an inconvenience that has to be "dealt with." Alex and Brett Harris say that part of the reason that teenagers begin to lead these kinds of problematic lives is because they're expected to. To illustrate, imagine meeting the president -- when you're with him, you're expected to be polite, and you live up to those expectations. When you're living a normal life as a teenager, you're expected to make a wreck of it, and, well...

Boy, did that message ring out clear to me.

There are two ways out of the fix society has made for us. One is to go on strike, picketing Hollywood and mass media headquarters, trying to get them to raise their expectations for us. The other way is to change how we respond to them. It's clear which way is more difficult... and more rewarding. The Rebelution challenges us to rebel against the easy, responsibility-free lives that people expact us to live, by "doing hard things." Things that will stretch our abilities, teach us to handle tough situations, build up our character, bless the people around us. Things that will change the world and our lives in ways that no one expects us to change it.

Up till the summer began, "do hard things" seemed easy -- I hadn't yet found a way to apply it to my life. The answer came as I wondered what I would to with my missing art classes. I decided to take action and spend the summer teaching myself to draw and paint. I planned to work as diligently as if I were in art class, and let God show me my hidden potential. I went out and bought two Moleskine notebooks; the somewhat-over-hyped, legendary sketchbooks used by Picasso and Van Gogh. They turned out to be very convenient and good-quality, so I began to fill them up.

Several days later, still in my artistic mode, I found out about the whole university application process, and I knew I'd have my work cut out for me -- but I decided to go for it. If I hadn't read about the Rebelution, I'd probably have never tried... I mean, who expects you to be one of the 120 people who get in? It's been the toughest summer of my life, but I don't regret my choice. Even if I don't get into the program, I'll have learned a lot about art, how to work without being asked, and how to keep my eyes focused on God in the midst of so much work -- more than art class could have ever taught me.

Funny how God sends messages like "Do Hard Things" just when you need them!

Love, Oksana

A little overwhelmed; Part 1

Ever since I found out about it last year, I'd always wanted to apply to a certain university's graphic design program. I thought it would be easy; an application, maybe a few samples of work. I was looking forward to a lazy, relaxing summer. However, just as the relaxing, lazy days of summer began, I decided to look at the university's website -- an uncharacteristically responsible decision, knowing me! ;)

Well, long story short, I found out that only about 1/9 of the applicants get into the program, and that a very good portfolio needed to be submitted in order to be accepted. Panic set in. As I skimmed through the galleries of student work, panic grew. I began to look through my previous graphic design work to see what I could find, but it all seemed way too simplistic compared to what I saw on the website. So I decided to start from scratch and see what I could do with what I had -- Paintshop Pro, a sketchbook, and a summer.

I've learned to do things that I thought only the pros could do.

I've also come very close to giving up many times.

I don't mean the first thing in a bragging way. I've just never challenged myself to stretch my abilities this far. I still can't believe just how much easier everything becomes if you just try.

This has been my craziest, busiest summer yet. Out of the 10 items I need for my portfolio, one (which I consider my best) is half-done, 4 are complete, and 5 more are floating around in my brain. Some days, I fill up pages and pages with ideas. Some days I just pray and cry in misery. One day, I managed to destroy one acrilyc painting, one pencil drawing, and two watercolor pieces, before coming up with something passable.

This summer, I need to finish my portfolio, start designing a site for it, and get to work on my sketchbook (one of the required components).

I also need to make the autumn issue of Multi Media Ministry, my e-zine.

I'm designing two logos; one for a website, one for a club.

Plus, I've got to make my mom birthday presents (handmade gifts are a long-standing family tradition).

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with it all.

Part 2 of this post coming later.

Love, Oksy

Monday, July 28, 2008

The Father of the Bride

I watched the movie "Father of the Bride," the "old" version with Elizabeth Taylor, on Saturday. It was sweet and funny, but I felt a lot of things about it were misplaced. Weddings aren't supposed to tear families apart; they're supposed to bring two families together into one. As cheesy as the movie was, it filled me with a lot of questions. Isn't it selfish to get married when you know it's going to cause your parents pain? I can't even begin to count all the times that my parents sacrificed their happiness so that I could be happy. When I look back those incidents, I'm so ashamed.

Like this one time at IKEA. I saw a green piggy bank that I really wanted. No, said my dad, firmly and kindly. I didn't take no for an answer. I threw a fit. I yelled and cried, telling my dad he didn't love me, accusing him of not caring about me, telling him I hated him. (I didn't 'get' the weight of the word "hate" until much later, and I regularly flung it at the people who cherished and loved me when I lost my temper). It went on for a while. I got my green piggy bank.

And I'm so ashamed to look at that stupid piggy-bank now. I don't even use it. It's an innocent toy that has been tainted with hatred and anger, and I regret having it. Can you imagine having an entire marriage tainted with those same kind of feelings?

Most people probably wouldn't be too hard on me over the IKEA thing -- I was just a small kid, after all. I'm much older now, and this is far behind me. Yeah, that's true. So why do people revert back to kicking, screaming, crying kids when they're about to do the most 'adult' thing of their lives -- get married? Years later, when they look back at what should have been the most beautiful day of their lives, they'll feel nothing but disgust and shame.

Anyways, there's my two cents. I see marriage as a journey of growth... a reaching of the potential God intended you to have, with the help of someone else. Not by using your spouse to become better, but rather, sharing your journey with them to help them grow as well. Marriage is supposed to make you better with your partner, not at their expense. So why should this journey come at the expense of your family; those who raised you? Isn't it natural that your loyalty should be, first and foremost, to them?

I like movies that make me think. With the cheesy, happy endings, and all. :)

Love,
Oksy

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Once

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"I wish I didn't have to make
all those mistakes and be wise

Please try to be patient
and know that I'm still learning

I'm sorry that you have to see
the strength inside me burning..."

- from "The Hill" by Marketa Irglova

I was so thrilled when Glen and Marketa won Best Song at the Oscars... their performance and speeches were the two most genuine and beautiful moments of the show. The whole soundtrack to "Once" is brilliant, actually. The raw emotion and soul, as rough and imperfect as it is, leaves no room for pretense at all. That's why so many people have loved this CD and movie. It captures the essence of a human experience shared by almost everyone, and when you see or hear it, it cuts straight to your heart and you relate deeply to it. I actually haven't seen the movie yet, but I plan to someday. At this point, I don't feel the need to... I want to take in the story that the music tells, before putting visuals to it. And there's still so much of it to take in! Deep stuff. :)

By the way, speaking of deep, I just got through an awful cold, thank God. One night, it was pretty bad, and my throat was so irritated that every breath I took scratched like sandpaper at it. Obviously, I couldn't exactly sleep, or do much else for that matter. Which got me thinking (this is where it gets "deep") ... when my breathing, which keeps me alive, is damaged in even the slightest way, I can't function to my capacity, even to half of my capacity. I can barely function at all!

God spoke to me in that still small voice. And, being sick, I let my guard down and didn't shut it out. Here's what I learned and want to share.

If my relationship with God -- the thing that keeps my spirit alive -- is damaged, I can't reach my potential. I can't live the abundant life Jesus wanted me to live. And, considering that my relationship with God is damaged (on my part) about 99.9% of the time, I'm not living the abundant life, am I? On the average day, I'm living the semi-abundant life, and I've gotten used to that. I've become accustomed to not reaching the capacity God gave me. God paid with his own life to give me that abundant life -- and I don't even bother to try living it?

That night, I really, really, really wanted to breathe. I also wanted to get right with God.

Oh, and he healed me the next day.

Love, Oksana

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Bridging the Divide (A New Year's Resolution Story)

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Most mornings, I wake up, say a quick prayer, eat a bit of breakfast, then take my seat at the computer... usually, I end up staring at it for the rest of the day. My addiction to the internet has stolen a lot from my life ... it hasn't only been tearing me away from my homework - it's created a big rift between me and those who love me: my family, and my God. I freely admit to being a 'Web addict,' and somehow I manage to make almost no effort to change it - after all, it's so much more convenient to think of it as something outside of my control.

Today, I did something different - I went to talk to my mom first. We spend 3 hours of just plain enjoying each other's company for once. We managed to laugh a bit, debate a bit, even cry a bit, and I think we were both surprised at how much we had in common. We talked about subjects over which we had had huge arguments in the past, and were - well, at least, I was - astonished to see that we agreed after all - we only needed to give each other a little bit more space without judging or jumping to conclusions.

Since practically all my time I have at home is spent with my mom, people often assume that we must have the best relatioship in the world ... we have a great one, but I simply cannot count how many times I pull away, spending my time at this computer or elsewhere away from her, unwilling to give her a chance to love me, unwilling to show her how much she means to me.

My mom is the most amazing, strongest person. She has been through a lot of tough times, but they're no match for her. She's a wonderful, caring, loving mother and I can't tell you how great it was to be 'back' with her. It had been a long time since I last felt like she was my best friend.

I didn't make any resolutions this year, and I still don't feel the need to. I know what I'm going to do, and I don't have to write it down on paper on the first of January. I figured out my 'resolution' three days late, and I couldn't have had more fun learning it.

This year, I want to bridge the divide and be mommy's little girl again, just the way I was meant to be!

Happy 2008 ~

Love, Oksana

scraps of life... photos, poems, and images of this world through my eyes.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Friday, November 14, 2008

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Monday, August 11, 2008

Monday, August 4, 2008

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Monday, July 28, 2008

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Thursday, January 3, 2008

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