Kate McRae

4 July 2009 at 542pm (Uncategorized)

Kate McRae
If you aren’t tied in to the story of Kate McRae in short this is how her parents tell it:
Monday June 29th, 2009 began like every other day, and ended like one we could have never imagined. Our daughter Kate was taken to the Dr. for tremors in her right hand. We proceeded to Phoenix Childrens Hospital for a stat CT of her head. At 5:30 I, Holly, Kate’s mom, was taken into a room alone and told Kate had a massive tumor on the basil ganglia portion of her brain. I called her dad and our journey has begun. It’s a journey we never would have chose to be a part of, but was chosen for us, and our sweet Kate. She is now in the Phoneix Childrens ICU awaiting tests to determine what it is and how far progressed. Please, our dear daughter needs your prayers, as do we, Aaron, Holly, Olivia and Will.

Read the rest of the story and see photos of Kate and her family at http://brianwurzell.wordpress.com/

Here are the lyrics to Little Light (song for Kate). You can hear this on my myspace at
http://www.myspace.com/audreyassadsings

Look at all the angels watching you
They’re singing songs that we have never heard
Their voices ring like bells over the mountains
Oh, if only we could hear their words
God is near, little girl.

Your eyes are brilliant,deep sky blue.
Your quiet wisdom is an evening song.
The angels must be breathless at your beauty
Like the world catches its breath before the dawn.
God is near, little one.

And Jesus bends to hear you breathe;
His tender hands are holding you tonight.
His heart is ravished when you look at Him,
and oh, the endless mercy in His eyes;
God is here, little light.

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How it is today.

22 May 2009 at 1218pm (Uncategorized)

“Dont you see Me watching you?” He asks, His laughter thinly veiled. I feel simultaneous terror, exhilaration, and amused. He is funny…and watchful. Something He once told me is ringing in my ears…”I’ve known you forever.” Suddenly I feel so seen. He is a witness to my entire life, from the knitting of my bones to my tiniest discontentment, my most secret joy. How strange and beautiful to be seen, to be watched, to be witnessed.

I am more naked than I understand. Even my skin doesn’t come between my God and me, nor does the rib cage around my heart. No. He is, I am, and we are. I am a pulsing vein, and He is lifegiving, oxygen-supplying Blood. I breathe the air of heaven in His whispers.

And everywhere I look He winks at me.

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*news flash*

19 May 2009 at 1130am (Uncategorized)

This is breaking news (a.k.a. things that entertain me) brought to you by one grande Misto from Starbucks on an empty stomach, a deplorably short night of sleep, and the normal (I hope) human tendency to self-indulgently blog when I feel chatty and there is no one else around to listen.

1. Do you believe in Cheesus? (Oh, victory in Cheesus, my flavor forever…) Visit this link for the full story. http://tinyurl.com/r4y3jz

2. Somebody FINALLY came up with something that makes some sense around here. Prescription fish tanks. The Hallelujah Chorus is ringing in my ears…
http://tinyurl.com/qqbskp

3. The other day I had the idea to make a tshirt that says “the Holy Spirit is my GPS” on it. I jokingly mentioned it to Matt Maher and he said, “GPS–Global Paraclete System!” at which point we laughed hysterically while the rest of the people at the table wondered who invited the crazy people.

This has been the morning news report, brought to you free of charge and possibly against your will by yours truly. Happy Tuesday!

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Champ

6 April 2009 at 312am (Uncategorized)

I shouldn’t even be awake right now, but I am. And I was coasting through facebook photos on a friend’s profile when, out of the blue, I came across an old photo of my cousins and my grandmother at Christmas one year. I jumped. She is the only one looking at the camera and I swear, for one startling second, it felt like she was staring right at me. An adequate summary of the emotions this stirred is impossible. But I knew I had to stop everything and write something…anything.

She passed in ’94…I never even really knew who she was. There was the language barrier (she was from Damascus) and the fact that I was a little scared of her…as a child I was always a little frightened of elderly people. Something about the aged seemed so foreign–the skin creases, the strange medicinal smells, the hands dotted like road maps. I was a little shy whenever I went to see her; she loved like a champ, though, and that I knew. Her apartment was no bigger than a shoebox–and her kitchen couldn’t hold three people. Whenever we got out of the elevator on her floor in that Jersey City highrise, with its green carpeting and blind-less blank windows, she would appear at her door at the end of the hall, waving and smiling as we approached. There were the brown-spotted hands, gnarled from arthritis, waiting to grasp our faces in greeting; and there were the comforting scents of her kitchen, wafting out just beyond her and finding us before we walked inside. It only just occurred to me as I have been typing that she must have been very excited to see us when we came. And oh, how the tears are springing to my eyes as I realize how little of her I really know.

But like I said…I know she loved like a champ. Maybe that was enough. I’ll have to climb a tree with her in heaven someday and talk about it.

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Notice

4 April 2009 at 207pm (Uncategorized)

I love Saturday mornings at home.

The best things in life sometimes smell like dish soap, coffee, and springtime air…
At the moment I am in jeans and a bathrobe, and have just finished a good solid hour-long conversation with Jen and Laura (two of my three roommates–the third, Ellie, is working today). The windows have been thrown open, the house is chilled like white wine; the sunlight seems bold, fresh, and brave, like only spring sunshine can.

(“Come on, take it, take it from me–we’ve got a good life,” sing the Weepies)

Every time I stop to notice beauty it turns and winks at me, as if to ask where I have been and what I have been waiting for. Today, I am seeing it in the gifts of housework and conversation and food…I wonder if heaven will be anything like this…pretty, quiet, satisfied…peaceful.

God is with us. Today, I’m stopping to notice.

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Today.

23 March 2009 at 228am (Uncategorized)

Today I said that I feel like ‘unpacked boxes, a neglected attic, and misunderstood art.’ Just thought it was a sentence worthy of some elaboration.

For whatever reason, today I feel all jumbled up. It may not be rational, but it’s certainly frustrating. Nothing seems like it’s where it ought to be–many nights I have wild, vexing dreams about things like trying (and failing) to remember lyrics to songs I have sung a thousand times, or children stealing things that belong to me; I wake up wondering what it is in my heart and my life that is so out of control. Some days I ask myself and the answer is nothing. Other days, the same question garners a response like a piercing scream from my tired mind–EVERYTHING. And you know what? In the clear light of most days I am quite all right with it, because I know with underlying certainty (strong as a cold steel beam) that my life is a vapor, and only God can hold onto me.

But today? Today, I hate it. I think it stinks. I feel like a gawky, awkward teenager who can’t do anything right, and who can’t feel what she ought to, and feels what she oughtn’t. And today I went around ignoring it until it finally overwhelmed me and I made myself sit down and acknowledge my upset-ness, my confusion, my sheer inability to function on levels which, as a miserable fourteen year old, I thought surely I would have conquered by the ripe old age of twenty five.

Today, I am still confused–I am still awkward–I am still fourteen. I am fumbling and frustrated. My faith is small and afraid and wounded and sore. The only thing that keeps me sane on days like today is the knowledge that I can feel this way and God doesn’t change. So, here at 1:25 am, I plan on retiring to my room (which at least is a whole lot cleaner than it was when I was fourteen!) and laying down in my bed and closing my eyes, to rest my head on the shoulder of a Father who cares about my feeling stupid and dumb and misunderstood.

So glad I have Him today.

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I am dust.

22 March 2009 at 1014pm (Uncategorized)

Written Ash Wednesday 2009. (Forgot to post this!)

I am dust.
(Lenten Meditation, the first)

Ash Wednesday is relatively new to me. I haven’t been a Catholic very long, and the nondenominational church of my childhood didn’t celebrate it–even so, it resonates in deep places of my heart…rumbling under the surface, a volcanic prelude. It could be the Middle Eastern blood that flows in my veins–the sadness, the ancientness, and the hope of Lent each call to me from across the vast centuries. This road to Easter bears the footprints of millions–rich, poor, young, old–and all for love of Him who gave Himself for us.

I went out to a tiny country parish about an hour and a half west of my home last night to receive Eucharist and a little ashen cross on my forehead; Father Cash, deeply charismatic and orthodox, looked me straight in the eyes and told me that, without God, I am nothing and no one. And then, when the time came, he dipped his finger in the coal-black ashes; smearing the sign of the cross above my eyes, he whispered, ‘from dust you were made and to dust you shall return.’ And then, moments later, I received Jesus Himself in the Eucharist, and I was overcome with the strangeness of it; my body is fragile, born of dust, and destined for dust once again; and it is a temple for a God so glorious that all of heaven and earth cannot contain Him. How impossible; how odd; how insane.

All the way home I wept with joy at the thought that Jesus lives in me. Christ is formed in me. And I am dust.

Come, let us return to the Lord!

http://www.rc.net/wcc/readings/lent19.htm

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I feel like…

22 March 2009 at 954pm (Uncategorized)

…unpacked boxes, a neglected attic, and misunderstood art.

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Updates and bullet points.

12 February 2009 at 1108pm (Uncategorized)

Hello out there!

I haven’t written in a while–for several reasons, but mostly due to the fact that my computer charger randomly burst into a million pieces and filled the entire living room with smoke and the smell of battery acid. Although I love my iPhone (you can have that endorsement for free, Apple) it’s difficult and frustrating to tap out long messages, or in this case, blog entries, on the tiny, elusive “keys” of the “keyboard”.

A. First of all–to everyone who sent me their email addresses, THANK YOU–the mp3 I promised you is still coming, but has been delayed because of my computer problems. I will do my best to have that out as soon as possible. I appreciate the great response, and will keep updates/cool stuff coming as much as I can.

1. I will put information in the mp3mail (seriously, πŸ™‚ somebody in a marketing department somewhere–hire me!) about how to purchase CDs, since so many people have been asking; I apologize that I haven’t been getting back to everybody who has written–but when I send out the update and music, I will put that information in there for you.

B. A few items of interest (at least I think so, πŸ™‚ although I have no way of knowing);

1. A few weeks ago, as a result of a long and seemingly coincidental set of circumstances, I found myself at a vineyard in Northern Virginia with a family of remarkable musical gifting, not the least of which came from their daughter Marie. She plays guitar, mandolin, and other delightful things. πŸ™‚ Check her stuff out at http://www.myspace.com/mariemiller.

2. In honor of Valentine’s Day…

HAHAHAHAHA.

3. I have been eating beans and rice or lentils and rice with alarming frequency recently.

4. I have discovered a love for Thomas Merton I didn’t even know I had. Read his books. Seriously.

That’s news to you,
Audrey

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Updates and bullet points.

12 February 2009 at 1108pm (Uncategorized)

Hello out there!

I haven’t written in a while–for several reasons, but mostly due to the fact that my computer charger randomly burst into a million pieces and filled the entire living room with smoke and the smell of battery acid. Although I love my iPhone (you can have that endorsement for free, Apple) it’s difficult and frustrating to tap out long messages, or in this case, blog entries, on the tiny, elusive “keys” of the “keyboard”.

A. First of all–to everyone who sent me their email addresses, THANK YOU–the mp3 I promised you is still coming, but has been delayed because of my computer problems. I will do my best to have that out as soon as possible. I appreciate the great response, and will keep updates/cool stuff coming as much as I can.

1. I will put information in the mp3mail (seriously, πŸ™‚ somebody in a marketing department somewhere–hire me!) about how to purchase CDs, since so many people have been asking; I apologize that I haven’t been getting back to everybody who has written–but when I send out the update and music, I will put that information in there for you.

B. A few items of interest (at least I think so, πŸ™‚ although I have no way of knowing);

1. A few weeks ago, as a result of a long and seemingly coincidental set of circumstances, I found myself at a vineyard in Northern Virginia with a family of remarkable musical gifting, not the least of which came from their daughter Marie. She plays guitar, mandolin, and other delightful things. πŸ™‚ Check her stuff out at http://www.myspace.com/mariemiller.

2. In honor of Valentine’s Day…

HAHAHAHAHA.

3. I have been eating beans and rice or lentils and rice with alarming frequency recently.

4. I have discovered a love for Thomas Merton I didn’t even know I had. Read his books. Seriously.

That’s news to you,
Audrey

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