WordArt

I know, I know, I've been promising art and delivered nothing. In lieu of art, I bring you personal photos of my fun, friends, and adventures... You are SO welcome.



Visit my picasa albums and see for yourself all the fun I'm having.

... Like I'm picking up pieces of my brain off my desk as I type this.

Okay that's gross, but this is very cool. For us very visual direction takers, GoogleMaps has made it even easier for us to know where we're going with a visual play-by-play.

Maybe this is old news to some of you major gGeeks out there (Mike Morabito), but I just noticed it today while I was working. I was trying to figure out one of the locations that I ship to, and I pulled up a map from Brea to there, and saw all these little cameras on the directions. I clicked on one, and was amazed to find a little flash photo of the move with arrows showing how to make the move. You can even click on the arrows to see what happens next!





Probably even cooler if you have an iPhone.

Damn, those applemongers got me again!

Happy Mapping!

--Court

My amazing boyfriend, Mike Morabito, has an awesome opportunity to win a Search Engine Marketing competition, but he needs you help.

Go to his blog moreburritos.com, RIGHT NOW and read about it! Then go to his article and give him some feedback.

It's pretty brilliant-- you won't be disappointed.


Thanks, team!

Courtney

Hey Folks!

My good friend AJ Harbison has started a new blog, called The Listening Blog, where he, an up-and-coming composer, shares his listenings with you, the humble-hopeful and musically-interested.

You should check it out, and leave feedback. Let AJ know how you like his listens and what you think he should listen to next!

Happy reading!

Courtney

May's Mix is a sadder mix for me. This mix is based on a true story of a love that was many things to me, but never right. It is a story of what I wanted love to be, what I needed love to be, and in the end, what it never could be for me. It was a love that ended as it began, and it is the end of that love that this story is about. The slow awakening to the death of a thing, a fight, and a mourning. Finally a healing and a new awakening.

This mix is for who still aren't sure why love songs can be sad songs. For those who don't yet know why Chris Martin's voice is so sad, and who don't think that Fake Plastic Love makes any sense, and think we're all just being dramatic. This mix is from me, to you, and the feelings are real.

And for those who know it all too well, but could never put a tune to it--this mix is for you.


Based on a True Story
Compiled by Courtney Patino

Your Eyes Open – Keane
Fix You – Coldplay
Tangerine – Led Zeppelin
Comfortable – John Mayer
That Particular Time- Alanis Morissette
Stay or Leave – Dave Matthews
Nice to Know You – Incubus
Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground – The White Stripes
Fake Plastic Trees – Radiohead
Two More Years – Bloc Party
Congratulations – Blue October, Imogen Heap
Run – Snow Patrol

But I guess you already know that, since you're looking at it now.

Those of you reading in Reader... you'd better get over here and check me out.

Love ya!
Court

Bubblegum Lovesongs
Compiled by Courtney Patino

All My Loving- Paul McCartney
Suzie Q- Creedence Clearwater Revival
Gamble Everything for Love- Ben Lee
No Good Without You- Tyrone Wells
She’s Electric- Oasis
We’re Going to Be Friends- The White Stripes
Knees of My Bees- Alanis Morissette
British Legion-Kasabian
Oh- Dave Matthews
Anyone Else But You- The Moldy Peaches

This mix is exactly what it seems: A bunch of feel-good, lip-smacking love songs.

It’s funny because I think we grow up thinking, “Yeah, that’s what love’s going to be,” and then we get heartbroken and disappointed and sad and cool and say, “That was such crap, everyone should know better, including the tool who wrote that song,” and then we fall in love and realize that the tool who wrote that song knew exactly what he was talking about.

Funny.

First we checked out the American art. We saw so many beautiful and interesting paintings, including a reproduction of a painting of George Washington that we had seen on our trip. We love stuff like that, so we really enjoyed it.

The next building was an exhibit about the history of roses and about how varieties have been developed over the centuries and across the world. There were even smelling-stations, where we were able to smell some different rose varieties that were bred for their scents. It was really cool. We went outside and wrote in our idea books and then Mike took some great pictures with my camera.

Next, we moved into the old-but-newly-renovated conservatory, which is now a giant greenhouse. The main section was the rainforest. It reminded me of some of the places I saw in Costa Rica, with the big trees and big leaves and bright flowers. Mike and I made our way down the spiraling ramp as misters turned on occasionally to keep the “rain forest” nice and humid. This building was full of information and cool ways to learn while we played.

We climbed up from the forest floor to the ground level; where we were able to look at flowers up close to learn more about what the parts are and what they do. I got to tap into my memory of plant biology to explain some of it to Mike. He was super interested in learning it, and he even wrote some things down in his idea book.

The next room we went to in the greenhouse was a learning lab. Here we saw how seeds travel, how pollination works, how animals and plants interact, and about the life stages of a plant. It was pretty much awesome, and my mind was totally blown by how interested Mike was in all of it. I have to say, nerdy guys really catch my attention, and when they are good looking too, that just seals the deal. I guess it just made me so excited to think that someone could actually get me the way he does, and enjoy the things I geek out about. After the learning room, we checked out the cloud forest and the bog room, where we got to learn about carnivorous plants and epiphytes, which are plants that live on other plants, without being parasitic.
Narrowly avoiding death by carnivorous plant, we escaped to the café, were we had some lunch. After that, we snapped a few more photos of some of the beautiful plants and trees and then made our way through the not-yet-blooming rose garden to the Japanese garden.

The Japanese garden is hilly and spread out. A stream divides this garden into two sides and on the far side, there is a display of a traditional tea room. There were a lot of people in this part of the grounds—it is obviously a favorite spot for people who come to the library regularly. Not finding a place to hang out, we continued walking through the Japanese garden. At the northern edge, we walked through another gateway and found ourselves in the beautiful new Chinese garden.
There were many structures in this garden, as well as trees and plants. There were small pagodas with benches inside and some bridges, each with a symbolic name written in both Chinese and English. This garden was also a little crowded, so we searched hard for a perfect spot to sit and enjoy the beauty of the garden. We found a bench of the hillside, overlooking the lake and bridges, and of course all of the people who were savoring the sunshine. We took out our idea books and sketched pictures of what we saw. It was a nice creative time, and something that we had never done before.
Finally, the library closed and docents came around asking everyone to leave. We picked up our things and walked slowly out. It had been an amazing day already. We had so much fun just being together and seeing all of the beautiful things. We saw art, history, and science in a free, open, and beautiful format.

But, our wonderful day together was not nearly over. We drove over to downtown Pasadena, where we planned to hang out and grab some dinner. As I narrated directions and looked for a parking space, Mike told me that we had dinner reservations at 6:30! I had no idea that he had made reservations, so I was totally floored. What a stud, getting us reservations at a nice restaurant and leaving me clueless until the last minute! This day was just getting better and better.

We parked and had some tea, and took a leisurely walk toward the restaurant, falling in love with Pasadena as we went. It was really clean and fun and seemed to have plenty of cool places to hang out. Finally, we arrived at Bistro 45 on Mentor Ave. Although we were terribly underdressed, our beaming smiles and excitement may have caught the mater’di off-guard enough that he graciously escorted us to our seats. I was so excited to be having such a wonderful dinner (I just new it would be wonderful) after an already amazing day. As we sat down, we were given an anniversary card from the restaurant, which was super-sweet. We had our water glasses filled with mineral water while we took in the lovely ambiance. We perused the menu and wine lists and finally determined what we would have. Our server was sweet and patient. We ordered a bottle of Chianti to get us started, along with some fresh homemade ravioli. After much deliberation, Mike ordered the Angus Steak and I ordered the special Duck with orange sauce. When our food arrived, Mike and I were both struck by the perfect presentation and the amazing combination of flavors that we tasted. Everything tasted so wonderful, it was impossible not to finish, although it was very rich. Despite being full, we had to order dessert for our special day. More deliberation. I ordered the “Chocolate Soup”—a chocolate soufflé with hot fudge and vanilla ice cream. Mike got the berry crème brulee with cookies. The funnest part was that our plates had “Happy 1st Anniversary” written in chocolate! It was so special. We took some pictures, talked about how much we like each other, and finally decided to go back toward home.

On the way toward the car, we passed a record shop, so we popped in to look for cheap CDs and cool vinyl. We looked around and each ended up taking home a handful of CDs that we thought we would like. It was a fun little adventure within an adventure.

We walked back to the car and did some math about how soon we would have to be sleeping in order to get up in time for Easter. We had been enjoying our time together so much it was hard to agree to end it, but we would get to celebrate Easter together in the morning; and we both know that we are at our best when well rested.

Mike dropped me off at home, and I quickly fell asleep smiling about the wonderful day that we had. I remembered how excited we were about the weather, and how surprised we were to see George Washington again. I laughed about our pollination lesson and sighed thankfully that Mike did not lose his finger to a carnivorous piece of grass. I giggled thinking about the way Mike says, “You’re so beautiful,” and how it melts my heart every time.

It was a magically wonderful day: a perfect day.

To see more pictures of this day and other photos that I take, please visit my photo gallery by clicking on the "Pictures I Take" link to your right.

There is something very beautifully human about working with fruit. We are like all living things in so many ways, fruit being one of them. And yet I have the opportunity as the human type of living thing, to consider the color of the juice as an aesthetic, to consider the feeling of ripping pit from flesh as uncomfortably permanent, to consider the end--in my case consumption of the tart juice, and it's nutrients-- while I participate in the human activity of separating the pit from the cherry.

The body craves nutrients. The body knows what has them, and it craves these things. When I am hungry for meat, I need protein, when I am hungry for greens I need iron, when I am hungry for red fruits I need whatever vitamins in them that they have to offer... and so I find them. Today it is in the crisper drawer of my refrigerator. Hardly the scavenger I once was, but here I am reminded that I am still a child in many ways, as my own mother, a woman who keeps her family fed, has filled this refrigerator with the things she instinctively knows that we will need. Out with the cherries, I need them.

Working with our hands is intrinsically rewarding. To look back, hands bloodied by ripe fruit, and say, I have accomplished that, I have made that, I have conquered that; this is a reward. The gifts of being made in the image of a god; perspective, ego, a love for our own work. I pitted a bowl of cherries. It is not the quaint folk art of your great-grandmother. But I do wonder if that virginic godess felt the way I feel now. If while she made your uncles pie, she struggled with the pride that comes with creation, with the tearing of one fruit to feed your own. I can only hope that she did. And while they called her a good woman, she new much more deeply what it meant. And hoped that I would someday know it as she did. She is a good woman, she does what she ought, they say--never knowing that strongest moral value was the feeling of greatness within her, that her work was power, not because it bought her place in a society of pie eaters, but because she pitted cherries and chose to let herself experience the glory of it.



I choose juice over pie. I like juice. It's easy to drink, easy to make, delicious. It unlocks the complexity of fruits of a variety of colors and textures and allows them to sit together in a cup, open to being enjoyed for purely their flavor and nutritious value. The options are limitless. Fruits and vegetables of every type can be juiced together or separately and served blended, chilled, hot, frozen; whatever suits the body's desire. I create and I consume. Sometimes I create and I share. That is an entirely other pleasure from that of simply creating. But today I am consuming on my own. And it is delicous. A blend of cherry, grape, and blueberry juice. This smooth but tangy glass of red-violet beverage is full of antioxidants, vitamins, fiber, and plenty of pride. Good for the body, good for the spirit, and I believe, altogether, good for the soul.

Poetry, it's what's for breakfast. Bon Appetit.

Abandonment Is Guilt Free Here

You should have left
Without saying goodbye
Goodbye
Said like that
Means something
It means that the part between
That and hello
Meant something
Hello
Something Meaningful
Goodbye
Like that
But you are going
And I am pretending
Nothing means anything
But you want to say goodbye
Like that
So how can I go on
Pretending
When we both know the truth
And it is a shame
When a person feels guilt
That the space between
Has meaning


This Town

This town hasn’t got it anymore
Whatever a town’s got to have
To make me want it
This town just hasn’t got it anymore

I used to be in love here
I used to think that’s what the lights were for
I thought this was where we might dance
But it turns out this town hasn’t got it anymore

Not sure if it’s anyone’s fault
Or if it happens to all towns
Maybe just the ones I’ve lived in
Whatever the case may be
This towns one that hasn’t got it anymore

The buildings stopped glowing at the edges
For-sale signs aren’t romantic
I feel like a stranger again
Walking fast downtown
This town never let me do that
But now it does
So I guess it hasn’t got it anymore

Maybe there will be other towns
Even cities
Maybe there will be other dreams
Even love
There’s only one way to find out
I’ve gotta leave the town that hasn’t got it anymore.

Saturday, Mike, Jolene, Ryan, and I went to Raging Waters in San Dimas, CA for an action packed day of water park fun. We went on almost every ride (ignoring the ones that were not cool, of course) and got some serious thrills.


Some of the highlights included:


The Speed Slides- you can imagine that these are fast slides. yes they are. very fast.

The Lunch Factor- we had bacon wrapped hot dogs and chicken strips. and horchata. yeah.

The Till You Drop- we rocked Raging Waters from nearly opening till closing. slowing down is for pansies.

The Post Park Dinner- we had a great dinner at El Farolito in Placentia, CA. meat is good.

Overall it was an awesome day with some very cool friends. Raging waters is a fun place, and if you're planning on going you should be sure and cash in on the AAA discount, the buy-your-tickets-online-3-days-early-discount, or the buy-a-day-get-another-day-free-discount. I mean, you'd be silly not to.

Alright now, get out there, get watery and have a good time!

Courtney

Friday night, Mike and I went to a stellar even at Rock Harbor church called Go Acoustic. It was a magical evening of up close and awesome music with artists who donated their performances to raise money for Habitat for Humanity in support of the church's GO Campaign. The GO Campaign is an effort by Rock Harbor to give ourselves away in 2 ways: 1) to raise 1 million dollars this year to give to 12 specific causes (donating 150,000 of that to Habitat for Humanity) and 2) to send people on mission trips in 4 major "outposts" ongoing for 6 months.

It was rad to be a part of this event because it supported something I really care about, people living in poverty, and it also gave me a chance to hear some great music; some new to me, and some classic in my heart. Every artist was absolutely great. I encourage you to check out their myspace profiles:

• Molly Jensen
• Drew Bray
• AJ DeGrasse
• Jon Foreman of Switchfoot

I personally really enjoyed their music, and the venue was awesome. It is a rare treat for me to get to see good artists perform in a place that is nice and cozy along with people who love music and helping people so much.

Rock on.

Courtney

Everyone loves a good favorites list-- especially me.

I can name my favorite pretty much anything--except my favorite movie! I end up loving so many movies for a million different reasons: It made me laugh so hard, I felt like I could totally relate, I wish I could be like that, I learned so much, It made me feel alive. To determine my favorite movies, I will be thinking of movies that I've seen that I would watch again, recommend to others, and that, for some reason, strike me as special among all the movies I've seen.

At this point I can look at movies I own because I just had to see them again, and while there seem to be a million that I love or would love to see again, I have painstakingly broken it down to the final 12 favorites.

Star Wars (The originals: notably V, The Empire Strikes Back), The Bourne Identity/Spy Game, The Constant Gardener, Big Fish/Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Holiday/The Devil Wears Prada/ In Her Shoes,Garden State, Ever After/ Moulin Rouge

I know, it's crazy... that's just how it happened in my brain, all messy and connected like that.

So now let me try to order them using some kind of reasonable standard... hmmm...

Star Wars and Ever After both have classic story lines and are movies I loved when I was quite young.

The Bourne Identity and Spy Game are both action packed adventures that I could watch over and over.

The Constant Gardener always felt important, I love the acting, I love the Africa.

Garden State changed my life, I think.

Big Fish and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory both appeal to my love of imagination, journeys, and fate.

Ever After and Moulin Rouge are both aesthetically delightful in different ways, and make me believe crazy things about romantic love.

The "Chick Flicks" feel good, include things about womanhood that a typical romantic comedy ignores, and are always good for a Girls Night.

...processing...

Alright, these things considered, these are my 12 favorite movies in order:

1. Moulin Rouge
2. The Constant Gardener
3. Ever After
4. Big Fish
5. Garden State
6. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
7. Spy Game
8. The Bourne Identity
9. The Holiday
10. The Devil Wears Prada
11. In Her Shoes
12. Star Wars-Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

So, now I guess we both know a little more about me. Now tell me some of your favorites...

--Courtney

While I was spending some wind-down time with the dogs tonight (I'm house sitting this week along with beautiful black labs Bella and Bailey), I decided to reevaluate my e-situation.

My boyfriend is a super Ggeek (or at least aspiring to be one), and is always sharing things that he is learning and doing to be more efficient, better informed, and basically "geeking to live". I love learning from him, but haven't really spent too much time applying what I've learned. Tonight I took a few simple steps in the right direction, by getting myself a Gmail email address, and setting up my iGoogle homepage where I can keep my calendar, email, reader, weather, and news on one easy to update page. I also set up my Google picasa account this week, so I have basically converted my whole e-life into a Glife.

Isn't that geek-tastic?

Now, I know it's really not that impressive or hardcore, but it's a new move for me, so I'm feeling pretty stoked about it. There is also something pretty relaxing and chi about having everything in little light blue boxes... so now I think I'm ready for bed.

Hope you all had a great independence day and got to see some good fireworks. I do believe in magic. And I believe that you should vote Mike Morabito for president in 2016.

Love.

Courtney

“If I die, can you make sure and give my bottle cap collection to the guy at the Auto Body shop?” My mother glares at me, and I know, once again, that I have made the stupidest statement in the history of language or something. Oh well. “You can just do whatever you want with the rest of my stuff, but I really want Terry to get those.” Something strikes me as right about it. He emerges in my mind as the only human thing about the whole accident.

“Can you take her back?”
“Sure. Right this way. I’m Terry.”
“I’m Courtney. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.” Nervous laughter. My eyes roll behind my huge bug-eye sunglasses.
“Right. So, this is your baby, here?”
“Yep, that’s my girl.”
“’92 is my favorite year for the Cherokee.”
“Yea, mine too—there shouldn’t be much left in here, just need this, and I guess I’ll take these bottle caps for my collection.”
“Oh, you collect bottle caps? Me too! How many do you have?”
“Hmmm, I guess probably like four shoeboxes full. My friends collect them for me too.”
“That’s great. I probably have like two or three shoe boxes.”
“Nice. Well, good luck with that. ‘Nice to meet you. Thanks.”

There was something validating about the way he acknowledged the value of my things. He liked the things that I did in the way that I did. Suddenly human interactions were more than collisions that left cars irreparably damaged and bodies mangled across asphalt. Value was measurable in favorites and shoeboxes-full; not dollars-worth of damage, percentage of fault, or miles per hour.

My heart warmed for the first time in days and I smiled, pushing my numb cheek into my swollen eye, squeezing out tears that had been loitering there.

But these feelings and values don’t translate; so here I am, trying to convince my mother that Terry at Brea Auto Body should have my bottle cap collection in the event of my untimely death. She says she’ll use them to cover my coffin, although I’ve told her I’d rather be cremated. Cremated and put in my Bubba Gump hurricane glass—after the bottle caps are taken out.

But I’ll probably live for a while, and I don’t think I could give Terry my bottle caps if I wasn’t dead. I would be too embarrassed. So they’ll probably get used to cover my coffee table at my first home, and then it will break and my partner will want a nicer new one, so they’ll end up dumped, like the trash they were to begin with.

It’s funny how things come full circle like that.

I'm back on the bus again, after months in my little antisocial bubble. The best part of riding the bus for the last couple days is that I have finally almost finished reading A Passage to India, a seriously great book by E.M. Forster that takes place during the British occupation of India. It is so good, and now that I have finally gotten past the part that I have read to 3 times now over the last 3 years, it is even better!

Next stop, the Fullerton Public Library, to pick up some new novels for free. Embrace the free world with me, friends. But don't just do it because I said so, because it turns out that communism with a boss is fascism. Hahaha.

C

Writing is what I ought to do. I know this, and it’s just something I should be doing. My struggle with writing comes from a common sense of the bucket hitting the bottom of the well and coming up dry, a lack of fortitude to finish a thought that I’ve started, a fear of the ever critical reader (yes, that’s you… no, I don’t know if you’re really being critical or generous, and I may never know!—that’s the problem). I scrounge through the desert of my mundane experience for pieces that give me enough flavor to make broth with, hoping my imagination and practice will add some substance to it. I grow bored with the project, assuming we will all find something else to consume if we wander just a little further. Finally, if a piece makes its way through the machine and on to the plate, I am afraid to let it out of the kitchen, for fear that it will seem trivial or overstated or commonplace, or even for fear that no one will notice that it is there at all.

Sometimes I’ll be walking down the street, or maybe chewing breakfast cereal, or observing some natural phenomenon or another; and the most interesting subject will come to mind. And I will spend the most fascinated 3 seconds of my life exploring the idea and thinking about all that I should someday write about it. And in about that long the idea is quite gone, replaced in my conscious space by some shiny object or a butterfly or a very cool sneaker.

So then, let’s write these down. Things that I may someday, and now we all know ought to, write about. You should participate here, because the fact is you should all be reading these someday. and when I say should I mean ought to, because that’s the kind of language we use around here.

Things I can remember so far…

A piece of cross-gender relationships that I started several months ago and became disinterested with for lack of information (that supported my desired conclusion).

A piece on the difference of experience between time spent with many people and time spent with few.

An exploration of friendships of different types and values and natures that I have encountered.

An exploration of fruit juicing of different types and values and natures that I have encountered.

A journaly type expedition through my final stand at the home of my parents for the next two and a half months.

Okay, your turn. Otherwise I will just start ripping ideas of all of your blogs. and you don’t want that to happen. Like, it ought not.

C

Don't Go Away- Oasis (1997)

Cold and frosty morning there's not a lot to say
About the things caught in my mind
And as the day was dawning my plane flew away
With all the things caught in my mind

I don't wanna be there when you're ... Coming down
I don't wanna be there when you hit the ground

So dont go away, say what you say Say that you'll stay
Forever and a day ... In the time of my life
Cos I need more time, yes I need more time just to make things right

Damn my situation and the games I have to play
With all the things caught in my mind
Damn my education I can't find the words to say
With all the things caught in my mind

Me and you whats going on?
All we seem to know is how to show
The feelings that are wrong


I heard this song at the gym the other day and it's been stuck in my head. I sometimes wonder how long it will take for me to get all the things uncaught from in my mind. And if it could ever be too late. And what to do in the meantime. I know I'm not alone in it anymore, but it still feels like a lonely place to be stuck, with nothing quite to say, and nothing quite to do, but be and wait. With all the things caught in my mind.

I hear that when you decide in your heart that what you want most is to be open to God and to know Him, the Enemy is most threatened and ready to attack. It makes unavoidable sense, and from what I can tell, it's on.

We sat around the table Tuesday night and we shared our hearts a little. It's been a good run. 5 months now, of a commited pursuit of God and His heart, in ways we have never known to seek Him before. We have only a few weeks left, and during this time a most focused regimen will be sought, revealed, and followed as we learn to put on Christ in new ways.

And the truth is that I'm nervous. I am excited, because I know that God's promises are good and that fruit cannot help but grow from the branch that abides in the Vine. But for a girl who likes to be the chillest thing around, I find myself anxious that I don't know what God will do. I don't know who He will make me, now that He has secured His identity in my heart.

I find myself praying this picture. This image of the human heart with a seed planted deep inside. And the dry seed sits for some time in this dark empty hollow way, and finally, roots emerge and stems emerge and a deep green plant begins to fill the hollow. Slowly, but surely, the appendages of this plant reach the edges of the heart and begin to seep beyond its edges, until a great plant has grown-- its branches mirroring its roots in size and extention. The leaves glisten and fruit begins to develop on the branches. Such beautiful fruit that its taste is unquestionably exotic and sweet and nourishing, and the seeds within long to burrow themselves deep in rich soil.

I feel more and more that my soul, once connected with the Holy Spirit becomes like the seed of a plant. It is the only analogy that feels right. I am nothing, and then we are seed, and then we are dried and prepared, and then we (the Spirit and I) are planted in my human heart, and then we grow out, and we dig deep and we grow up and we reach to the depths of my being and to the heights of the world's edge and we are meant to live with shiny green leaves and we bear fruit and it is delicious. And where the fruit is consumed the Spirit falls to the earth and continues Its work.

I know it's happening. Whether or not I feel the lush green liveness going on inside, it is happening always-- we are growing. And the more that I want health and growth, the more the Enemy seeks to devour me at the root. Sometimes cloudy days come to disable photosynthetic process, and sometimes pests come and devour my shiny green leaves, and sometimes it's a fungus, and sometimes it's a dry season, and sometimes a flood threatens to wash the ground away. But we are an organism that does not die like that. We survive everything and thrive for the glory of God. Because function wins in evolutionary theory, and this is ours.

And finally the analogies of warfare make sense to my ecologically trained mind. And I remember that God knows me and stirs my heart with the same images that were in His own heart before there was earth and plants.

And I remember that I am so very small. And that there is so much more going on than I can ever fully grasp. But that the very simple truth is a reality of God and His Love. And this is very much enough.