Sunday, January 30, 2011

As a child I remember several occasions that I got hurt and hid it. Playing in the garage with my cousins doing the tipical 6 year old things, lost in the world of imagination. I was quickly pulled from my fantacy world when a ten pound wheel rim belonging to one of the near by cars fell onto my thumb. Normally this would imediatly make a kid burst into tears and scream out for mom. Me? I told my cousins I needed to go to the bathroom and ran out of the room. They found me several minutes later hiding in a closet tears streaming down my face and my hand absolutly covered in blood.
Another time at age eight my brother, being ten years older than me, grabbed my ankles and began running around holding me upside down. While he thought I was screaming in delight I was trying not to scream out in pain. As he ran my long hair was getting caught under his feet and with each step he was ripping hair from my scalp. Finally he put me down. Smile on my face I somehow managed to hold back tears until he left. When my front door clicked shut I started sobbing. My mom was at a loss as to what was going on. I explained what just ACTUALLY happened. I remember watching my reflection in the mirror as she brushed handfuls of hair off of my head all the while asking why didn't I say anything.
These stories could go on. What amazes me is that I am finding I do the same thing as an adult. Not necessarily talking about physical injury...I don't find myself being dangled by my ankles and ran around the house at age 23 but I do find myself hiding injury. A friend snaps at me for no reason I swallow it. My mom starts treating me more like some random adult and less like her child I pretend all is well. My friend stops talking to me I step aside. At times it hurts worse then getting my hair ripped out but I put on a smile and hide. Why?
It's easier to have someone hurt me and for me to never to say anything. Then they don't have to carry the guilt of knowing I'm injured and it's by their hand. I can save them the hurt by carrying the wound alone. So I crawl into the closet within my heart holding this hurt and covering it in tears. Injuries can not be hidden for long.
In the physical sense wounds get infected, sometimes beyond repair. In the emotional bitterness starts to take root. The friend that snapped is now the friend I avoid. Mom is no longer the person I turn to for advice. And the friend that stopped talking to me slowly fades into the back ground. Soon I start to notice that I stopped truly connecting with people as a result of trying to avoid personal injury. Without connecting I soon start isolating myself before you know it this inner closet is now my home and this wound hurts worse then ever. I begin to wish someone would notice, notice that the smile on my face is a farce.
Tears streaming down my face the door of the closet begins to open and Jesus is standing in the threshold of my heart. Embarrassed to be seen in this much pain he enters anyway. Rather than exposing my injuries to everyone like my cousins did when they found me covered in blood all those years ago, God slowly begins to operate right where he found me. In the physical, when there's an infection they will at times amputate the infected limb, with God it's never to late. He will cut things off yes but that's just the root of bitterness. And in it's place is forgiveness.......I'm tired of hiding.
So God, I'm on your operating gentle, I'm hurt enough as it is.

Sunday, August 9, 2009


My summer is coming to a close...that's weird, I didn't really feel like it came to an open. This has been the busiest season (in every sense of the phrase) of my life.

The weather has been colder the last few days and it's gotten me thinking about fall. People in the drive thru are already going school shopping. Pumpkin Spice Lattes come out September 1st and my life as I know it right now will come to an end.

I've been lingering on the edge of interns for as long as I possibly can and it seems that come September I won't be able to do that anymore. I will be pushed into a new season. . . and as of today I think I'm finally a little excited about that.

After my two year internship ended I took up a job at my church to finish paying off my fees for that and honestly it's been SO much fun. I've got to be around my favorite people a lot and have gotten to have some pretty great adventures because of it. If that comes at a price of scrubbing toilets then I'm totally fine with that. On top of working at my "real job", helping out with media at my church, and trying to spend time with out of state friends as they've wondered into town I have found myself sleepless and caring a crammed packed schedule.

Thus the excitement for fall comes in. I'm going to get to stop. I could almost cry while typing that. . . really. I haven't gotten to stop for YEARS. I haven't gotten to have a night off, with nothing to do without dropping a responsibility in YEARS. And now I'll get to. I'll get to go home and find myself with a night free. . . without the nagging "you have homework" feeling, without the "where do I need to be next?" feeling. . . it's going to be awesome, and I'm just realizing this today.

God has told me this is going to be a rest and wait season.

I'm sure they'll be days when I feel lonely, unneeded, sad. . . but I'm going to have a burden lifted off of my shoulders and I'm finally going to get time to sit and process all that has happened over the past few months. Time to pray. Time to be alone. Time to listen. Time to study. Time to catch up. Time to strengthen relationships I've been neglecting.
It might suck sometimes. . . but I'm excited.

Friday, July 31, 2009

"Where are you from?"

A long time ago my friend and I decided to claim a Muppet that likens to ourselves. She was Miss Piggy (Not in a bad just need to know her. It's so her it's ridicules and she would agree). Her fiance is Kermit. Not just because he's Miss Piggy's man but really...he really really is like Kermit. And me...well I'm Gonzo. I have a big nose and nobody knows where I'm from.

What do I mean? Oh my. You are in for a treat. Keep and mind that these are all true stories. I'm not exaggerating in the least part. This is truly my life. These things all have happened.

It all started freshmen year. Before this time I thought I blended in as an Idahoan pretty great. Maybe that's because I am one, born and raised. My nationality didn't really ever cross my mind unless it was some kind of school project. (Which by the way I still don't really know where I'm from. When my grandpa died the Chafin history sadly died with him). Freshman year the stories began...

I took speech my first year of high school, get it out of the way. I was in a class where the high majority was seniors. It was slightly intimidating. One day I raise my hand to ask what time the home coming dance teacher doesn't answer my question. Instead she turns to the class "Since she's not from here, who wants to explain to her what the tradition of home coming is all about."...what? Not only did that not answer my question but what the heck was she talking about. I let it go. Later in the year, again I raise my hand and ask some sort of question I raise my hand and ask a question. My teacher comes back with

"Since English isn't your primary language..." WHAT!? I stop her right there.
"I'm from Idaho."
"...where were you born?"

She winks and pulls it off like this was some kind of joke. Later at parent teacher conferences she apologises to my mom and explains that she really did think that I was from a foreign country. I thought maybe it was a one time thing...I was wrong.

Every now and then throughout the years I was asked the question where I was from but there are a few times that stick out the most. Senior year we were in a class wide meeting about class rings. I'm at a table with friends waiting for this meeting to start. To pass the time we were joking around. The ring guy was walking around my table kind of listening seeming like he was trying to find a way to start a conversation and get to know us. You know form some sort of bond so we would dish out a few hundred dollars for a ring. Finally he dives in, addressing me. "Are you Slovak?" I hang my head and begin to, yet again, explain that no...I'm from Idaho. "Oh because you sound Slovak." What? Sound?!? I don't have an accent. What is he talking about. He's crazy. That's a first. Again I was wrong.

Last year I was hanging out at my friends house. We were getting ready to walk out of the door when his mom spouts out "Are you Bosnian?" I've been asked about this country before so I just laugh it off with a no. "Oh well you sound Bosnian. Are you parents from Bosnia?" What? No. "Then where did you get your accent? You sound Bosnian." What is this accent? I want to hear it. Coworkers have asked me where I was from before...later I asked one of them if they thought I had an accent...he said maybe from Minnesota. At least I'm getting closer to home.

Not to long ago this guy at church asked me where I was from. I hung my head and told him nowhere and that I had gotten that a lot and that some people even thought I had an accent. He comes back with "yeah that's what I'm trying to place" Are you joking me? I think I came back with "I don't have one." in unbelief. Another guy in the lobby at work was sure I was from somewhere when I said no he asked if my parents were because I had an accent.

A lady and her husband came through the drive through. Their coffee was taking awhile so I was holding a conversation with them to pass the time. They where really nice so it wasn't hard. Suddenly the lady pipes in "Are you Slovak?" Sigh....I explain my history and this is a frequently asked question and that no I'm in fact not anything that I know he's your coffee and have a nice day.

A friend one time, knowing the history I have with these constant questions asked me one time "but really where are you from" I gave him a dead look. "I just mean where is your family history?" Honestly I really don't know. I know I have a lot of German, Irish, and Native American. APPARENTLY when you mix to those together you get an eastern European. . . the accent is still a mystery.

My question is where are these people getting this authority of placing looks with a country? Seriously. I mean I understand if someone looks like they are from somewhere else but I'm getting called out on specifics here. What? I if a German, Ukrainian and a Slovak person were lined up in front of me I wouldn't be able to tell where they were from. How are these people doing this? Do they study pictures of foreign faces and match them up with countries at home to pass the time?

This whole phenomenon is pretty spectacular and really entertaining but at the same time it's some what a downer. I don't get told "Oh you look nice today" or anything normal like that I get "Oh you look extra foreign today." or "I just want to put you in a handkerchief and put you on the side of the road and watch you sell beats in Russia or something." (That last one was an actual comment made by a friend). So it kind of sucks. If I look SO foreign, foreign enough to be called out on it this many times than what are people seeing when they look at me? Maybe I should take up match the face with the country game.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

"We fear change"

"We fear change" is a movie quote from probably the most quotable movie ever and yet when ever I whip out a line people just stare at me...what does a green screen have to do with Delaware? It's Wayne's World people! Come on!!!

Anyway I digress...I meant what I said. I fear change. Well...not fear...but it takes some adjusting. I tend to enjoy most of the seasons in my life and this one that I'm in I'm quite attached to and now it's coming to an end. Interns is ending. It breaks my heart in some ways just thinking about it.
Tonight I got on myspace for a little bit. The first time I've been on there for more than 2 minutes in a year or more. I was looking through my friend list trying to find someone that knew someone else (unsuccessful for the record) I'm flipping through the pages of faces I once knew my heart sinks just a little bit. I use to KNOW these people. Know them. We use to be close. We use to have inside jokes and I have stories that connect to them. We use to laugh together or have some sort of adventures and now what??? I recently just found out that one of them got a girl I never even got to meet...that's how long it's been since we've seen each other. I remember hanging out with him in the middle of the night meeting up with others to eat pizza in an empty parking lot just to have something to do...and now...? nothing. I see a best friends little sister. The little girl that scratched me till I bled. The same little girl that I used as an excuse to play with My Little Ponies way past the age that I should have. Now? Now I see her caked with make up being cussed at by friends. I see drama friends, the kids that I would spend hours repeating the same thing over and over with yet having the time of my life while doing it, now they're scattered across the country with only lingering memories to look at.

The other night one of the first year interns was giving me a hard time for being so bumbed that the internship was ending for me. He said that we get into it to be sent out, not to stay in. This I know. I had to stop and explain to him it's not interns I'll miss it's THE interns I'll miss. It's not about the classes and what not that hurts me, although those were life changing....I'm going to miss the people. They have been with me through some of the hardest crap I've been through and yet managed to make me laugh through what? Will I one day be looking through pictures and say "Oh hey, I love this kid! I wonder what they're up to now..." and tack on an amazing story at the end about almost being murdered at midnight by a man in the middle of the road? I've adopted these people as part of my family and I'm scared what happens next. . . God, I don't want to lose them...please...

Monday, March 30, 2009


my steps right back to you.
the clock to save an hour or two.
the fact I don't feel a thing.
I'm dealing
with what I can't control.
confused cause I don't know
If healing is when you don't feel a thing.

Where do I go?
Where do I stand?
Where do I find myself again?
Where do I go?
Can't disappear.
Oh where do I go from here?"

-Relient K Where Do I Go From Here

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

I'm not dead...I promise

I know...I'm sorry. I've fallen off the face of the blogging world. I'm sorry...and this isn't a great post either. This is more for me than anything. So read on if you wish but I'm not exactly back.

I'M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW!!!! You know the days that you finally stop and see all that you have on your plate? The days that all your responsibilities catch up to you? Is this just me? I think it might be just procrastinators. IDK...but oh my goodness. I feel like I just went to an all you can eat in life and filled my plate to fit my imagination...and my arms can barely even carry my ambition to the table.
Here it goes...again this is more for me so I can think it through out loud sort of speak.
-I've been awake and non-stop since 3:30 this that's 18 and a half hours of non stop things all day.
-I have to memorize 2 parts in 2 days for a kids play that I haven't even read the script for. With all the craziness I don't even know the real details on all of this thing either.
-I'm illustrating for a slide show thing for my youth group. That's drawing, outlining and coloring 5 pages worth of things. Doesn't sound bad but it's about a half of an hour to 2 hours on each page I would think. I only have 3 pages left I think though.
-I'm sort of "auditioning" for illustrating a book...I think...again absent of details. But still I have a trial run I haven't done.
-I have paper work over due for work. It's not hard I just need to remember to fill in a few lines and turn it in.
-A friend of mine wants me to paint her room sometime by the end of next week I think.
-Another friend wants me to get together with her next week for her birthday. I still need to paint a shirt for her.
-I have 3 other pieces of art promised to other people that I haven't even started.
-I STILL have some thank yous to write that are 3 months over due

On top of all of this my room is trashed and my car is slowly becoming that way. I don't really think it's procrastination this time...I literally don't have time for everything.
For example lets take a look at this week shall we...
7am-8:40) Get ready for day
9-12pm) Class
1-3) Practicum
3pm-6:30pm) Get production ready for GCB
6:30-7) Prayer for GCB
7-9) GCB
9ish go home go to bed

7am-3pm) Repeat of yesterday
7pm-who knows- Function down town
who knows-Go to bed

7am-3pm)same old
who knows-late) GC Kids production

6:15am-3pm) Work
3pm-7) Lights at church
7pm-who knows) Yp at church

7am-1pm) Get ready for Church and do lights for services
3pm-10pm) Work

THIS IS MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so's fun and all really it is...but a day to stop. A day to hide. Sounds bad huh? It is kind of but a day were I just dropped off the face of the earth. No one knew I was free. No one talked to me. No one needed me somewhere or needed me to do anything. Just a day...ideally a week so I could have a day of rest and many days of getting things done...but would I? Being the procrastinator I am I probably wouldn't even with time on my hands. (Sigh) Goodnight.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Pop the top

I know I'm only 21 but I'm pulling the "back when I was a kid" card. What is with the Internet code to when stuff?!?! Do you know what I'm talking about? OK scenario: You pick up an ice cold bottle of your favorite soda (Dr. Pepper....mmmmmm. Thinking of you Best Friend). Your just about the unscrew the top when you see "Win a 2009 Charger!" On the front with instructions to look under the cap to see if you have won. Excited you quickly unscrew the cap and peer underneath to see if you have won this incredible prize. AND ALL YOU SEE IS FZ7284Y. WHAT THE PUKE IS THAT!?!?!

Seriously. What is with the Internet codes. How hard is it to say "You Win!" These people are sucking the joy out of life. What is more fun? be walking down the street and see a regular guy open a soda and start jumping up and down screaming with excitement; all the while not noticing his precious soda spilling all over his new pants? -OR- Walking down the street and seeing a guy open a soda and then stair all confused like at the bottom of his soda cap?

The glory days are over. When I was a kid Coke even took it a step better. They made a soda contest that the entire top of your soda can would come off and within an empty can of soda, at the bottom of the can it said YOU WIN in huge bold letters. I remember anticipating it every time I went to open my (at the time) favorite drink. Opening it real slow hoping to see the whole top come off instead of just the usual tab opening up. Kids don't have this kind of joy anymore. They have to buy something then find a computer, get on the internet AFTER getting parents permission, to see if they won a messily t-shirt.

What threw me over the edge on this was shopping yesterday. I'm moseying my way down the lane of Big Lots looking at everything. I come to the pet section and remember how board my dog has been lately so I decide to buy him a bone (which he buried almost as soon as I gave it to him. So much for fun). I come upon one that looks good enough for him. I'm reading the out side and the package says "extremely digestible*" I'm thinking "what does that mean?" I notice the * so I look on the back of the box to further investigate. The back literally says "what does extremely digestible mean?..." I'm thinking hey it's reading my mind! Hooray the answers are here. It continues "log on to www(whatever it was).com to find out." WHAT?!?!? Just tell me! TELL ME!!! I know that we've made a lot of technological advances over the years. The Internet has put the world at our fingertips. But when you don't want the whole world and want one messily little answer such as "you win" or "it means that your dog can digest it better" or what ever aren't we going backwards with technology?