Giving Thanks

I woke up this morning almost like it was any other day. I had fallen asleep on the couch while watching Ocean's Eleven and my neck was, and is, rather stiff because of it. I got off the couch and made my usual rounds. Coffee is of course one of the first things I go for. My mom was (and is) cooking in the kitchen. I therefore acknowledged Thanksgiving's presence, but wasn't quite awake enough yet to realize that there was (and is) a holiday happening.

I sat back down on the sofa with my cup of coffee and a muffin and was happily greeted by my dog who generally pretends she loves me to get food. I sat and I thought, "There is something different." I started thinking. "Oh, It's Thanksgiving." I stopped to think about everything that I have. I started to feel a little sad because the more I looked around, the more I felt it was a little sick that I have so much and that others have so little. I am more than likely being too pessemistic, but when I look up into heaven where God is, I see justice, and when I look back down, I do not. I began to feel very bothered at the fact t hat I had so much.

My mom and I recently moved to North Carolina and so we have a brand new, lovely apartment. We really have made it beautiful, I can say. I have spent some serious time neglecting school to do some decorating. It looks good. We have bought new curtains and we have put great thought into what wall art goes where. I say this to say that I look around and all that I have is beautiful. Most everything hanging on my walls serves no purpose other than to be beautiful. And I think, "Wow, I technically do not need that, but I am able to make something beautiful because I am fortunate enough to have enough money to do so." It's a little baffling.

Thanksgiving is what you make it. A few years ago, I remember posting here and mentioning that I saw no point in Thanksgiving. And the truth is that I didn't! I looked at popular culture and I saw people getting ready for a Christmas without Jesus and eating food that made them fatter and fatter. I saw people getting together with their families that they really did not want to be with, and trying to small-talk over a meal when they would much rather be watching tv or out at a bar to aid in their misery of...having to see their family.

So, no, when looking at what others make of it, I didn't see anything. But both yesterday and this morning I thought to myself, "Maybe we need a holiday to remind us to be thankful." Even though we should be thankful every day, maybe we need time set aside to sit quietly and reflect on the state of the world and the wealth that we have in it.

My goal is to be thankful all the time, and I feel really that I am. It's not uncommon for me to sit and think about all I have, to be honest with you. And maybe it's because of that in me that I now think Thanksgiving is alright. But it is not about the holiday, really. The holiday, by popular culture standards, is about a lot of things. It is about seeing family, the pilgrams who took the land from the indians, about our country, about food. I can't really connect with all of these things. Mainly the pilgram and indian deal. I guess what I am saying is that I have connected with Thanksgiving in a personal way, and I think that is what it takes.

Thanksgiving is what you make it. My heart says this is what is important to me–––poverty, unjustice, western-wealth, social inequality. And because all of those things are so important to me, Thanksgiving means much more. Why? Because I know I am on the good end of those things. I've got the better end of the deal and I am thankful.

Application? Thanksgiving will be as much of a blessing to you as you acknowledge it to be. If you are moseying through it like many people are, then look for something to make it mean more. Find Jesus and His abundance in the little things, and keep that going long after today.

Life and Rwanda

It seems I am phenominal at doing this horribly. The teacher (me) is going to give me (the student) another day, however, to make it right. The original assignment was actually only four days long, and it was I (the student) that changed it to five days. But it was originally the teacher (me) that assigned four days of journalling. Oh my goodness!

Yesterday and today I watched Hotel Rwanda, a movie about the genocide that occured in 1994 in Rwanda between two tribes. The Hutus mass murdered the Tutsis in a number of months, while the UN stood watch, and the west avoided acknowledging the existence of the problem. I cried over and over during this movie. I watched most of it yesterday evening, and then the rest of it today after work. It was very moving. I love people. I love Africans. In some places, they go through so very much. Countries in Africa have often gone through much more than I could ever imagine. The Rwandan genocide was a terrible crisis that was quite unfortunately ignored, and the country's economy is still paying for it. Many people in Rwanda live below the poverty line.

Last night I began to look up children up for sponsorship in Rwanda (which I would want to take on if I had the money to at this point), and noticed children born just months after the terrible genocide. This either means that they are Hutus, or that their mothers survived the crisis. While the former is more likely, the thought of the latter deeply moved me. I wanted so bad to take those children under my wing–––I want so badly to be able to help them.

The movie was a realistic narrative around a man named Paul, a successful owner of a local well-known hotel. He was a Hutu. He used his money, his connections, and his power to rescue around 1,200 refugees from being brutally murdered. He stayed with his fellow Rwandans even after he could have escaped for certain freedom, because he could not have lived with the blood of those refugees on his hands. He is still alive today, as well as his Tutsi wife and children, to tell the story. He is now one of my heros.

But the movie is over, and while I am aware of many problems in the world, I have to remind myself that I can't actually save the entire world, and that I am not responsible to do it on my own. In the Lord's timing, I will help–––I will be of service to those who need me. In the Lord's timing, I will do my best to complete his will on earth. Praise God.

Alas, I must depart from this place. I must go and complete my other studies. Until next time, remember the Africans.


Rachel A. Kennedy

Here I Am Again

It seems I missed a journaling day yesterday. I suppose one can't be perfect at completing school assignments, especially unusual ones. You would think that because I spend so much time on the internet, and enjoy online journaling, that this assignment would be a breeze, but for some reason I keep forgetting about it! Oh well. Let us continue on.

My day was fine. The only reasons my day was not good, were that I did not get enough sleep, which seems to happen often, and that I have not gotten my schoolwork done. I worked this morning from 7:00 AM 'til around 12:45 PM, afterwhich, I ventured to Blockbuster to rent a couple of movies, then to the local fruit stand for, well, fruit, and lastly, to the grocery store to get a refund on something that had been over-priced. I believe I got home around 2:00 PM. Since my mom got off of work early today, I sat with her for quite a while, actually, just talking about our days and our experiences. She eventually left the house to go get her new glasses, and by that time, it was around 3:00 PM. By mid-afternoon, if I haven't done anything, I usually feel as though my day is already gone. I feel like it is too late to accomplish anything, so I tend to give up. Sometimes I throw the baby out with the bath water, you could say.

I suppose I did that today. It is now 5:00 PM and I still haven't done any schoolwork, other than what I am now typing. And if I were to pick one thing to accomplish, should this be it? No, I don't think so.

Which means, this one will be short. My deepest apologies for this. But I must go accomplish what I have not yet accomplished.


Rachel A. Kennedy

A New Day Has Begun

Today is a new day. I feel as though I am just beginning my day, but it is actually 2:55 PM, and that is hardly the beginning of any day. I have been awake since approximately 10:00 AM, and even though that was a late start, my day has been going ever since then.

I haven't done much with my day yet, though. So far, I have mostly rested. I have to tell myself that it was a wonderful restful morning, and that I needed that rest, to escape from any condemning thoughts, such as, "You haven't started school yet?" or "So far, you have wasted your day away." Maybe those are true sometimes, I'm not sure. But the truth is, I don't have to work today. I have no reason to begin my education at an early hour when I have all day, unless I just wanted to. Apparently I didn't want to.

So, here I am, really beginning my day. I come here, to DaSylva's Coffee, quite often. It seems that whatever battery that made me run when I was schooling at home has died. It seems I have to find an outlet to plug myself into, and coffee shops are it. I no longer have any desire to do school when I am at home. Maybe it is because I have "senioritis," or maybe it is because I have been doing it on my own, in isolation, for so long. But either way, I have to get out of my house in order to complete all of my tasks.

So, here we are. I am sitting by a window with a hot cup of coffee, my earbuds in my ears, and Ryan Adams serinading me as if he is in love with me too. He isn't, but it makes for a nice thought. My coffee is in a nice white mug and has a bit of milk in it. I usually drink my coffee black, but there are times when I am more in the mood for a softer taste, and I guess that is the mood I am in now.

Last night I spoke with Joseph on the phone, and that was a bit difficult. I despise hurting anyone, but especially him. I am trying to make the best decisions in my life, and I know that I will do a little flying and a little failing. I can't be perfect, and I hope that God will help me not expect myself to be, but I do want to do my best. I feel like I am doing alright with myself, though, concerning Joseph. I realized, especially, that I must be honest with myself, and that while I must think of others before myself, I cannot move into keeping peace simply because I want to be comfortable. What I mean is, I cannot deny my own feelings to make my best friend happy. As much as I would want to cause him no harm, I have to do what is best for both of us–––for our lives. This takes strength–––strength I believe I am developing.

Codependency, would be a good name for it. I love to save people. And I am not saying Joseph loves to be saved, but I suppose "codependency" comes to mind because it is what I grew up with, and I assume I am prone to it because of that. My mom wanted to save my dad, and my Dad wanted to be saved. We do things like this as humans for comfort. We are always looking for ways to make up for our experiences. My dad, for instance, wasn't nurtured like he should have been, and therefore still seeks that which he did not receive from his parents. My mom, on the other hand, had a relatively distant father, and therefore, wants to make sure everyone is happy. She has said that she thought she had to hold the family together a bit whenever there were hard times. I am not, by any menes, trying to sum up my parents decisions and faults in a few simple sentences. I am using blanket statements, and I am aware of this. It is not simple. Emotions are not simple and life is not simple. But, these are pieces of the great puzzles of who we are, and I am just summarizing a bit of my thoughts instead of writing 30 pages of intense psychological nonsense. I probably wouldn't be quite educated enough to do that anyway.

I love my parents. They have done a wonderful job. They gave more to me than they got from their parents, and while my mom's family life, especially, wasn't too shabby, no one's parents are perfect. And we can only get but so much truth and freedom from them.

The family is a beautiful system. As a child, I need things that only my father can give, as well as things only my mother can offer. They are both crucial rolls in my growing up. There are things I have missed from not having a whole family all of my life. But I am alright, and at least I know God can and wants to heal me from any pain or silly decisions I have made because of this imperfect experiences. I am going to make it, and can clearly see, I am much more whole than many other people out there. I haven't gone through hardly anything compared to many, many beautiful souls out there. I thank my Lord for that.

Well, I suppose I will wrap this up. It is fun writing like this. I am enjoying my assignment. Since I am a day behind in this journaling endeavor, I will post later after I have completed my other studies.


Rachel A. Kennedy

Education and Thought

This week in my homeschooling venture, I have decided to give myself an extra writing assignment–––to keep myself fresh. The assignment is to journal every day this week (starting yesterday, which I missed). So, I am going to complete that assignment here. I am going to journal my entire week here, and then grade myself on grammar and clarity and such.

It is really just a exercise, I suppose. It is good to be in the habit of writing...to be in the habit of expressing thoughts. I want to be in the habit of expressing myself. I want to be able to communicate my thoughts clearly in life. I would like to think that I already do that relatively well, but I know I always have room to grow.

So, what is my life like lately? It is an interesting question to ask, and an interesting question to answer. It is interesting because it is hard to answer simply. It is hard to explain my life, or how I am doing, when it all seems to be so complex. Life and feeling and experience–––it is hard to put simply or to define. Sometimes it just doesn't make much sense.

But I am doing fine. And yet, I settle for the word fine, because it seems to be a compromise in between the truely beautiful things happening in my life, and the rather difficult or strange things happening in my life. It is hard to say whether I am dreadful, daft, lovely, happy, silly, or splendid, so I conclude that I am all of the above, and that can be summarized with the word fine.

Communication is very interesting. My choice of words is different than the next guy's choice of words, and so on. The way I speak and conclude to think or say different things is based, for the most part, off of my life and my experiences, and is therefore, different than yours. So, it seems as though, because of our differences, that no matter how close we are, you can't know exactly what I mean by "fine." I can try to explain it, but I don't think anyone else but God himself can really know exactly how I am doing.

I am doing fine. My life is my life is my life, and I am doing fine. I am excited about my life. I am excited to live, and excited to learn. I hate school, but I am excited to be in school. I hate that I am where I am in life, because I tend to look toward the future a little too much, but yet, I am still happy to be here. I know preparation in any situation is key. It is a crucial puzzle piece and nothing makes sense without it. I know that my hard work now–––in my school, in my spiritual life–––will prepare me for my future–––will prepare me for what God has for me.

So, welcome to my week of journaling. I am looking forward to the experience. I am looking forward to sharing a little bit of my heart, even if communication stands in the way of what my spirit really wants to tell you. I will do my best to explain who I am, and what I am going through. I will do my best to write with clarity and excellent grammar (although I doubt I will be perfect with either). This is the beginning–––this is our beginning. Let's go.

I will write another entry in a couple of hours to count for today's assigment, as I am afraid this can only count as yesterday's.


Rachel A. Kennedy

No More Xanga

No one goes there anyway. I am tired of looking for social life on the internet. It doesn't happen in the right places anymore. On Xanga, we used to post entries and have conversations that meant something. But now everyone is on Myspace and Facebook...the ME ME ME sites. The hear, come look at all of these things I am into, check out the 50 pictures of me, and post comments that act as replacements for real conversation in our relationship sites. No more! No, I will write where no one reads! I will write in an online journal that few know about, and I will enjoy it.

-Rachel