Testing....

My blog seems to be off-line. :-( Maybe a post will knock it into shape.

If you can see this, you should be able to see my new colors. Like them? :-D I know some of the titles are a bit bright...I'll work on that.

ASL Forever

Tonight I attended a Deaf event called ASL Forever. It was so fun!! Six actors (including one of my professors) performed short skits, poems, mime, improv, comedy and many other things. It was so funny to see my professor hopping around the stage imitating a five-year-old girl. LOL

One of my favorite parts was when they turned black lights on and did a special scene with white gloves, making flowers and a butterfly. I wish I had brought a camera.

I think my favorite line in the whole thing came during one of the improv skits. A volunteer member of the audience suggested that they do “Going up to Heaven”. So two actors swirled their hands for clouds, two stretched their arms out for the gates to heaven, and my professor stood behind them as ‘God’. As the gates opened and the volunteer fell to his knees ‘God’ said to him, “What’s up?”

There were quite a few people there I knew--students from my classes, teachers, people I’d met at other events… But imagine my surprise when I looked behind me and saw a girl I met last summer in Tennessee! LOL She lives in a town about four hours north of me, and is going through an interpreter’s program at a school a few hours south of me. We met at The Bill Rice Ranch--a Christian Deaf ministry.

It was really great to have no voice interpretation. I understood most everything, except parts of one skit. ASL Forever is an annual event. I sure hope I can go next year!

100th Post

This is my 100th post. :-D I started blogging on August 30th, 2005. I thought it would be fun to talk about my favorite or most meaningful posts since I started.

On November 10th I posted a poem that I wrote, called When Evening Comes of Age. This is one of my favorite poems, and was showcased on the front page of FaithWriters.

Many readers particularly enjoyed Joys of Home Businesses, posted on December 20th.

On December 30th, I wrote a post about my struggle with OCD.

I had fun writing this post about my active imagination, on January 10th.

January 27th was the five year anniversary of my Mom’s kidney transplant, and on the days around that I posted some excerpts from my diary. Part One and Part Two.

I think this Funny Being Me post on February 6th is humorous because I get told “Amy, you’re so funny!” several times a week. Half the time I haven’t a clue what I did or said that was so funny…

Of course, I couldn’t make one hundred posts without getting Any Better! LOL This February 9th post has a link to a dramatic reading I did of one of my stories.

I’ve also really been enjoying doing Monday Memories. Some of my favorites are Ruby Waters, My Grandpa, and My Grandparents and their farm.

I didn't list all the posts about my writing, signing, and general life dreams come true, but it was so fun to look back over it as I was gathering these. Here's to another 100 posts with as many accomplishments blogged!

A Knock at a Door

Yesterday I knocked on a door. Now I wait about a month to see whether God throws the door open, or shuts it. Yesterday I took an entrance interview for the sign language interpreter’s program at my community college.

For the test I watched a video of someone signing a question, then I stood up and signed my answer into a video camera. There were a number of questions, then I saw a story in ASL and wrote it in English by memory, as well as a few other things.

I’m not sure how I did. I can think of all sorts of things I could have done better, of course. The fact that there are at least sixty people interviewing and only twenty-five allowed in, makes me a bit more anxious than I would be otherwise.

I found out that as of the beginning of this week, there are still sixteen (out of forty total) openings in an interpreter program in a school about four hours from me. So I’m going to apply to that one, as well, just to have more options open.

I’m looking forward to seeing what God has planned.

Write a paper. About what again????

Well, it's been an interesting couple of days. Yesterday I challenged Writing 121. It is a basic writing course that is a prerequisite for the interpreter program, and I figure it would be all review. For the test I was given four short articles to read, and told to write an essay using two of them.

What does "using" mean?

Good question. It's one I never did figure out the answer to. I chose something to do, and wrote it. I had no idea if it was what they wanted or not. At that point I had no high hopes... I know of another who is a capable writer who did not pass.

By the time I finished the three-hour paper, found a snack, and got to my evening class, I had hurried around campus over eight times, getting a paper from this person, giving it to that person, bringing it back to this person, hurrying around trying to find the room to take the test, etc, etc. It was over 90 degrees out. In May. In the Northwest.

I got the results of the test back already.

I passed. :D

Monday Memories: My Grandparents and their farm

I normally do a post in honor of my family’s birthdays, and I missed blogging my maternal grandparents’ special days, so I’m going to do a Monday Memory about them, and their farm.

My grandparents live on over a hundred acres of Grandpa’s family’s homestead. Presently they have no animals of their own, but when I was young they had chickens, and they’ve raised cattle until only a year or so ago.

My grandparents are awesome, and the farm nestled under the splendor of the mountain is only the icing on the cake. Along with frequent visits (they live only about 45 min away), every summer my sisters and I would spend some time out at the farm, either all three of us for a week-long stay, or one at a time for two or three days.

The memories of those days are too rich and full to do justice in a mere blog post. On Saturdays we would wake up to the smell of Grandpa’s thick pancakes. I remember wandering through the woods with Grandma, as she pointed out various kinds of trees and plants, and identified some of the bird’s calls. Every once in a while Grandpa would let us hitch a ride on the bucket of his tractor as he headed out to do some work.

The memories continue today, renewing each time I am enveloped in a grandparent hug. I can hear the rich laugh, and picture the mischievous twinkle in Grandpa’s eyes as he teases Grandma, and the spark in her eye as she slaps him on the leg. I can hear Grandma’s “oohh!’ as she holds up a special gift, and feel her patient hands as she helps roll out a pie crust.

One year when the summer visit was a week-long adventure with all three of us, we built a fort. It was a splendid fort, with thick branch-poles tied up to form a firm framework, covered with an abundance of fresh evergreen boughs. It took the better part of the week to finish, complete with an evergreen couch and a backdoor. But the building of it was as much a part of the fun as the wonder of the finished product.

What delight we had in showing it off to Grandma and Grandpa and Mom and Dad. They were duly impressed, and sat on the couch, despite its lowness and the wet clumps of moss hidden in its crevices. Indeed, Grandpa was particularly impressed several months later, when in the throes winter a snow storm felled many a strong tree, and here were the poles of our fort, standing strong and alone, though bereft of their leafy covering.

Yes, many memories echo in that farmland. But even more so, they fill my heart, secure in the knowledge of love. But the best thing of all--there are still many more to come.

Interpreter Bloopers

This week in my Deaf Studies class, a couple of funny things happened. The teacher is Deaf, and because of the type of class it is, there are many students who do not know ASL well, so there are two voice interpreters. The first funny blooper came when we were talking about Cochlear Implants. The skull is carved out above one ear, to make room for the implant. This causes the skull to be very fragile, and those with the implant are not allowed to play sports, for fear that spot will get hit.

Well, the interpreter said that not playing sports was “drilled into you by the doctor. Uh…no pun intended.” ROFL!! The room erupted in laughter, and the teacher was left looking puzzled, wondering what in the world he had said that was so funny. :-p

The interpreter explained, the teacher joined our laughter, and we went on. Then the teacher started telling a story. In the story he said to an interpreter, “Don’t interpret this for me…I want to practice using my voice.”

I was so engrossed in the story, and following it just fine in ASL, that I didn’t notice that our interpreter stopped talking! I’m still not sure whether the interpreter realized his goof, the teacher realized, or a student protested, but once again the room erupted in laughter. :-D


On a related note, Wednesday I have my hour long interview test for getting into the interpreter's program. I'm rather nervous because only 25 students are allowed into the program. So getting in or not isn't a matter of me doing well, but of how many others do a little more well.

I am also going to challenge Writing 101 (required for getting into the interp. program), so that I don't have to take it, since it will be just the basics that I already know. I will be doing that, mostly likely, on Tuesday.

I covet your prayers for both things.

Monday Memories: Spa Party

Well, this memory only happened two days ago, but since I didn’t get it blogged yet, I’ll do it for my MM. You may remember that a few weeks ago I won an in-home spa party from The Fish (Christian music station). The party was this weekend and it was fun!

We had a perfect sized group: my mom, my oldest sister, two ladies from FaithWriters, and a friend from school. We enjoyed a relaxing hand treatment, facial, and foot treatment. That’s the first time I’ve ever washed my face in the living room, hehe!

I was impressed with Relaxing Moments Spa Escapes. The ladies were professional, yet very laid-back and friendly. Their methods were sanitary--they used disposable applicators and bleached towels (I actually went to an event, once, where someone used the same make-up brush on everyone! Ick). After the hour-long spa, they presented the items for sale briefly, with no pressure. Questions regarding ingredients of the products, etc, were answered quickly and knowledgably.

During one part of the afternoon, the guests were asked to share something about themselves, and to say something about the hostess (me). I was blessed by the kind responses, mentioning my writing talent and my fun and cheerful personality.

One comment I especially appreciated was when my sister said that I was a wonderful listener. I know I talk A LOT, and I know I have a bad tendency to interrupt sometimes. But I also know that I care about what others say. It’s good to know that my concern for others is not covered by my chatteriness.

It was a beautiful afternoon, spent with friends, relaxing and getting pampered.

Spreading Love

I wrote this poem in American Sign Language as an assignment for my sign language class. It uses hand-shapes, or modified hand-shapes, of the manual letters of my name to form the signs and classifiers of the poem. It isn’t nearly as pretty translated into English, but it gives the right idea.



My Heart


swells with love


for all



the world.



I reach out to individuals,


proclaiming the Lord's



love.

.

Suddenly

eternal

life!

Those I touch, touch others.



Love spreads


to everyone,

filling

the heart.




© 2006 Amy Michelle Wiley

Monday Memories: Ruby Waters

Each summer my family spends a week on the Oregon coast. It is a time of easy relaxation, sleeping in, and wandering on the beach. There is something about looking out at the endless sea, with the waves catching millions of colors, and a soft mist falling on my shoulders, that makes me feel particularly close to God. I am keenly aware of His power. There, standing in the middle of His creation, I feel His presence in a unique way.

Last summer Dad, Sis, and I were walking on the beach at sunset. It was a particularly glamorous night. The sun caught the waves in a deep scarlet that turned royal blue as you stepped into it. The waves capped with foaming teal and shadows held an emerald green.

Before we quite knew what happened, the three of us were in the cold water--fully clothed. We danced in the kaleidoscope of colors, splashing each other and running races with the waves. The night was full. Joy. Peace. Worship. Laughter. Love. Family.

I walk in ruby waters
Under the ruby sky
I race with topaz waves
And splash diamonds up high

My toes mix with amber grains
I dance in molten gold
Seeing Heaven's glimpses
Glorious to behold

Happy Birthday, Hannah!

My cousin’s birthday was this week.

Happy Birthday, Hannah!!

Hannah is less than a year younger than I am, and we’ve always been quite close. My uncle was in the military and then they settled in Texas, so we’ve never been able to see each other more than every four to one years. But we send letters back and forth and make the most of every minute we do have together.

Oh, the fun we have! I remember once when we were quite young and she and her family were staying at our house. She and I were sleeping on pads on the floor in the living room. One morning we wrapped the sheets around our shoulders and ran around the house, pretending we were squirrels (you know, I don’t remember what sheets have to do with squirrels…?). We would get our moms to do our hair in just the same way--two brown pigtails.

Hannah was born on my dad’s birthday, and a few years ago she flew out so she could be here for their birthdays. That was so much fun! We spent hours at the ice skating rink, and Hannah took to it like ice was in her blood. Her sister came to visit a few months later and also loved skating. It must be the Wiley blood, hehe.

Hannah, thank you for being a friend. I love you!

Ten Simple Pleasures

"Name ten of life's simple pleasures that you like most, then pick ten people to do the same. Try to be original and creative and not to use things that someone else has already used."


In no particular order…
1. A delighted smile
2. A hug and murmured “I love you” from a niece
3. A marvelous idea
4. The idea turning out even better than imagined
5. Giggling
6. Making new friends
7. Spending time with old friends
8. Exchanging knowing glances
9. Hearing my grandma’s enthusiasm of my writing
10. Singing
(Did you honestly think I could stop at ten? Let’s make it an even dozen…)
11. Getting a clear idea across in a foreign language that I love (i.e. ASL)
12. Foothills


I don't think I know ten bloggers that haven't already done this, but...
Debboggy
Purple Kangaroo
Georgiana
Norma
Beckie
Jessica
MommyHam

Monday Memories: How I got my name sign

In Deaf culture, a name sign is a gift given by an older member of the Deaf community. Some hearing people have to wait years to get a name sign, or may never get one, especially if they have a short name that can easily be fingerspelled.


Name signs are generally made with the hand in the shape of the first letter of their name. The position or movement of the sign signifies a physical or temperamental aspect of the person. For instance my friend Elaina is Hispanic and has beautiful, full, kinky hair. Her name sign is an E waving down from her head to her shoulder. Katie is a pianist and her sign is a K bounced in front as though one was playing keys on the piano. Jena’s sign is the sign for “happy” or “excited”, but done with a J handshape.

When I was first learning signs, I knew very little of Deaf culture and gave myself a name sign. Amy means “beloved”, so I chose an A over my heart. Years later, when I learned of my faux pas, I made the decision to drop the name sign.

It was only a day or two later when a Deaf lady asked for my name sign. I shrugged. So Trina gave me a name sign--an A near my chin, because I was beautiful, she explained.

I have never thought of myself as beautiful. If it weren’t for my bad acne and rosacea I would call myself averagely pretty. But I’ve been thinking about what tit means for me to be “Beautiful A”. While it is true that the acne and rasacea may be because we live in a fallen world, I know that my body was created special by God. I strive to be beautiful on the inside. And I know that I am beautiful inside and out to those who love me.

I will wear this name with honor. It will be a reminder to me of two things. One, that I wish to strive to be worthy of this name, by being as beautiful on the inside as I can be with God’s help. Two, that I am loved.



Other Bloggers' Monday Memories:

Collecting My Thoughts

Happy Birthday, Dad!

I like to do a post in honor of my loved ones on their birthday. Well, today is the birthday of three of my loved ones. LOL So I will spread them out throughout the week. First, my dad. Today when we go out to lunch he can officially get the senior discount, hehe.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!!!!

Oh, where do I start in telling about Dad? He is such a great combination of fun and hard work, of prayer and teasing.

Over thirty years ago he started his own business. In a world of dishonest construction workers, he determined that he would run a successful business--and do it honestly. No shortcuts, no cheapy materials, and no dishonesty. Today he is well-known and well respected for building quality homes and being wonderful to work with. Last month a couple looking for a new home walked into one of his. “We have been in hundreds of houses lately,” they said. “But this home…this home is different. I can see it. I can feel it.” God has blessed this business, and in return, my parents have been generous and hospitable to those around them.

All through my childhood I can remember coming downstairs in the morning and finding Dad quietly meditating, his Bible spread out before him. He is an ordained minister, but it is not a title…it is a way of life. He isn’t currently in church leadership, but I can still remember some of his sermons. He often had the most unique and memorable illustrations.

I think ya’ll know by now that I’m very wacky. I got some of that from Dad. It was he who taught me the poems “Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear…” “One dark night when it was very bright…” and “Ladies and Jellyfish, Hobos and tramps!” It was he who told “Three ways to get peanut butter off the roof of your mouth.” (or more precisely “Whee ways tu get peanu bu’ur off de woof uf you’ mouf.”) It’s Dad who says Donald’s Mac and cream ice, and he who regaled us with hours of childhood South American escapades as a missionary child.

I’m proud of you, Dad. I love you!

I will wear purple….and say “boo!”

I regularly come up with wonderful (wacky!) ideas. Most of my life I have been unable to convince others of the greatness of the idea and was left to bring it to marvelous fruition in daydreams only. But since finding the FaithWriters’ message board I have not only found willing participants, but as one friend told me, a group that is eagerly waiting to see what fun I will come up with next.

So my ideas of group sci-fi chat books….of a mysterious username who changes identities at an alarming speed…chat parties… They are all a smashing success. [Oh, and speaking of which…check out this cool blog I started--Scribes of Mysteria.]

Yesterday I was listening to a radio advertisement about a retirement community and had a sudden flash forward. Me as an eighty-year-old. I’m sure you can imagine what sorts of things I came up with when I was six. Just think what it’ll be like when I’m eighty!

“Agnes, quick! Grab your walker and come hide behind this tree with me. Let’s jump out at Bert’s great-grandson!”

“Hey, I know! Let’s have a costume party and invite all the grandkids.”

“Let’s make a wheelchair maze!”

“I don’t like strained peas. Let’s revolt!”

Oh yes…I can imagine it. What fun we will have!!!

Monday Memories: My Grandpa

Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you about MY GRANDPA ?

My paternal grandfather passed away from cancer when I was about ten. Grandpa was a special man, and I’ve always regretted that I was unable to get to know him better. He lived on the mission field and then in another state until the last year when he was sick. The few memories I have of the time I spent with him are, of course, precious to me. Every four years or so, we would have a large family reunion at the beach. Grandpa and Grandma had six children and twenty grandchildren, plus all the cousins, etc, so the reunions were massive affairs at a retreat center on the Oregon coast. I can only imagine how tiring it would be to entertain and play with twenty grandchildren, but Grandpa loved it! I distinctly remember sitting on one of his feet, my arms wrapped around his legs, while he gamely dragged me and another cousin all around the building. One furlough when Grandma and Grandpa stayed with us, I had just learned to read (which, as those who know my story know, was quite an accomplishment). I remember sitting between them, proudly reading aloud. I think it was that same visit that Grandpa caught me crunching an ice cube and teased that I sounded like a pig eating coal (I didn’t know pigs ate coal!). But it isn’t the things I did with Grandpa that I remember so much, but he himself. I can still picture his enormously bushy eyebrows, and the perpetually twinkling blue eyes below them. And Grandpa’s hands--hands that had helped so many people over the years… hands that had crafted everything from watches, to missions, to little girls’ hair bows. His hands were worn, and wrinkled with age. The loose skin on the back was peculiar in the fact that if you pinched it gently, it would stay in a little ridge even when you took your fingers away. Patient man that he was, he would let us sit in his lap for hours, playing with his hands. I had the great privilege of being by Grandpa’s side on the late summer night when he went to be with his Lord. We stood in a circle around his bed, holding hands and singing his favorite hymns as he slipped from this world to the next. Links to other Monday Memories (If you participate, leave your link in the comments and I'll post it below)

Click here for the Monday Memories code

Click here for Shelli's blog



Trackbacks, pings, and comment links are accepted and encouraged!



View More Monday Memories Participants

Life is Given

The earth groans
The sun is dark
The Creator rejects

Blackness
Death

One
Two
Three hours

It is over

Shuddering
Awakening
Death is spit out
Life is given

Separation ceases

Thirty Seconds of Fame

The phone rang today, as it does some million times each day. But this time the voice on the other end said, “Hi Amy, this is Kat from The Fish.” Now that doesn’t happen a million times a day. The Fish is 104.1 KFIS, a family music radio station.

It seems I was a winner for their contest Workday Three Play. She recorded a clip of me introducing one of three of my favorite songs and it was played on the air. How fun! The three songs I chose were Remember Me, Testify the Love, and I Can Only Imagine. Of course I stumbled when introducing the song (after all, is it Ginny Owens or Jenny Owens??), but oh well. Hearing my voice always sounds so….weird. LOL

Not only did I have my thirty seconds of fame, but I also got the prize of a spa treatment for me and four friends. Party time!

Monday Memories: Snake Girl

Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you about My snake friends ? Where I live in the Pacific Northwest we have no poisonous snakes. Which, I’m sure, contributes greatly to the fact that I am not at all scared of snakes. Pretty much the only snake we have here is the garter snake--a black snake with two bright pinstripes running down his length. They are, at the longest, only the length of my forearm, and only as fat as a big pen. My dad used to say, “Some boys scare girls with snakes. My girls scare boys with snakes.” The only bad thing about garter snakes is their stink gland. The smell is nasty and nearly impossible to wash off. As we were not allowed to come to the dinner table reeking of garter snake, we discovered many creative ways to get if off, such as lemon juice. Well, one day a family with three boys, fairly close in age to us three girls, came visiting. The six of us managed to gather, oh, probably a good fifteen or twenty garter snakes. My oldest sister, AJ, discovered that if you put them in ice water they will get sluggish. So we chilled the whole lot of them and laid them out all over the porch and walkway, sticking them back in the ice water if they began to get too lively. I’m sure you can imagine the looks on our moms’ faces when it came time to leave and they opened the front door. Links to other Monday Memories (If you participate, leave your link in the comments and I'll post it below)

Ask me for the correct Monday Memories code

Click here for Shelli's blog
Purple Kangaroo (memory of flowers and mommy)
MommyHAM (cute memories of kid's mispronunciations of words)Jen (an intense memory of a car accident)


Trackbacks, pings, and comment links are accepted and encouraged!



View More Monday Memories Participants

4 MeMe

I got tagged with this meme by both Lauren and Jez.

4 Jobs I’ve Had:
1. Filing/receptionist/accountant/plan changing/staking out land/cleaning new houses
2. Babysitting
3. On call temporary help for the Building Industry Association (mostly phone calling)
4. Assistant figure skating teacher

4 Movies/Shows I’ve Been Addicted To:
1. Little House on the Prairie (way back when)
2. Sue Thomas F.B.Eye
3. Doc
4. Pixar movies

4 Places I’ve Lived:
Since I’ve only lived in one area (the Pacific Northwest), I’ll tell about some houses. My family moved around so much that all our houses have “names” to help us remember what happened when. ;-)

1. “The Tri-Level” I don’t remember this house, but this picture was taken at it. I’m told I once jumped off this windowseat and bit all the way through my tongue. Mom was downstairs and couldn’t hear my screaming, so I was led through the house as my sisters looked for her…dripping blood all the way.

2. “The Little Green House” I have just a few memories of this one. It was a tiny, tiny house painted green, as you might imagine from the name.

3. Now this house is most commonly referred to as “the old house”, but its name is “Fern Springs”. Let me tell you, this was an awesome place to grow up! I’m planning to tell all about it on this blog sometime soon for Monday Memories, so stay tuned.

4. “Whispering Oaks” Our current house. We live in the country, and yet not too far from the city. We have eight acres and are surrounded by cattle and horses. I miss having a neighborhood and more trees, but I love being able to watch the weather and sunsets and we have quite a bit of wildlife here. I’ve become quite attached to “my foothills”, which can be seen on the horizon on three sides of us. They are so beautiful, catching the mood of the day in rich greens, dusty blue, or pure white.

4 Countries I’d Like To Visit
I could make it easier and just say “the world!” but I guess I’ll pick four…

1. Australia (I have a number of good FW friends there)
2. Israel
3. The UK (land of my heritage)
4. Czechoslovakia (more heritage land)

4 Popular False Assumptions About Me:
1. I am conservative because my parents forced me to be.
2. I am very proper (I’m guessing this from the reaction I got on the message board when I mentioned practical jokes and playing with snakes)
3. I am high school age.
4. I have blond or red hair (I had white-blond until I was about seven and now it is medium brown)

4 People I Look Like:
1. Dad (people who knew him when he was little say I look exactly like him)
2. Mom (people who knew her when she was little say I look exactly like her)
(note: Mom and Dad look enough alike that when they went to pick out her wedding ring, the jewelry lady commented on how sweet it was that his sister was helping him pick out the ring. But someone who knew both of them when they were young says I look like Mom, hehe)
3. My sisters
4. A sign language teacher’s sister-in-law (or so he and his wife say)

4 Things I Hope To Do Before I Die
1. Publish a number of books
2. Become a sign language interpreter
3. Personally lead at least one person to Christ
4. Get married and have a large family

OK, Purple Kangaroo and Debboggy, you’re tagged!

Welcome, Debboggy!

My friend and writing partner, Debboggy, just started her own blog, Debboggy's Bloggy. Welcome to the Bloggisphere, Debbie!!!

Great Critique on Threads of Pain

I’ve mentioned a few times that I entered my first two chapters of my novel in a challenge a respected FaithWriter issued. We got the results of the challenge back yesterday and my friends Lauren and Jules were the winners! Congratulations!!!! Yay!

I got exactly what I was hoping for out of the challenge--a little encouragement and a lot of advice. I got a lot of encouragement and a lot of advice. Maxx sent back a line-by-line critique to each of us eight who entered.

Maxx told me: “Amy, going in I knew you were a strong writer... and your piece didn't disappoint. You are able to masterfully play on the emotions, touching all the right chords, etc. This will be something that can be published when it's polished up.”

Thank you Maxx!

Rocky Road

Well, I’ve finished my first week of this semester’s classes. I must say, it was a rather rocky road getting here. Last semester I finished ASL (American Sign Language) 201, so this semester I signed up for ASL 202. A week later I got a phone call saying that 202 had been cancelled because not enough people signed up.

My only other option if I wanted to enter the interpreter’s program next fall was to take ASL 250--an accelerated class that is 201 and half of 202. I do not want to take an accelerated program, I do not want to repeat 202, and I do not want to have classes twice a week, on nights that are bad for me.

Then I found out that ASL 250 was full. Suddenly all those problems weren’t nearly as bad! ;-) If I didn’t get into one of those classes then I would be set back nearly a whole year. Well, the school agreed to let those of us who were signed up for 202 into the full class. The teacher wasn’t happy. We weren’t terribly happy.

We showed up at the very overfull class. The teacher asked us if we would like to be in ASL 251 instead--the next class up. “Yes!” Six of us went tromping exuberantly over to another classroom and the poor teacher about had a heart attack when she looked up some fifteen minutes after class had started and found six of us standing in the back. LOL But when she heard the story she was happy to take us. We were happy, too! So instead of repeating a whole class, we are skipping half a class.

Surprisingly, though, so far I haven’t noticed anything that those of us who skipped up don’t know, but that the rest of the class has learned. In fact, it’s been the other way around. Of course, we are only two classes in, but so far so good.

AND because this is accelerated, I will not have to take any ASL classes this summer! I was planning on taking Deaf Culture this summer, but I quickly signed up for it and added it this time so my summer will be completely free. But now I’m taking eight credits and attending classes three nights a week. So I’ll be quite busy!

Thank You, Lord, for working this all out.

Threads of Pain

The sound of an alarm cut through the night. Emily jerked awake. Bethany must have rolled on one of her dialysis tubes again. One would think a body would get used to the alarm after hearing it nearly every night for three months.

Emily tiptoed past her five-year-old sister’s bed. Karlie, at least, had been blessed with the ability to sleep through the noise.

Moonlight drifted through the hall skylight, faintly lighting Bethany’s room across the hall. Emily paused in the doorway, watching her mom. She was worrying again. Emily could tell from the way she watched Bethany, from the way her hands fluttered as she checked the dialysis tubes. The sound stopped.

Sugar water drained slowly from the bag on the machine, emptying into Bethany’s abdominal cavity through a tube. Her blood had learned to dispose of its impurities into the solution, since her kidneys were no longer cleaning it.

Bethany had already fallen back asleep, and the rasp of her troubled breathing was the only sound. Mom worried most of the time now, though Emily knew her little sister was trying hard to act normal.

But Bethany couldn’t hide the fact that she was rapidly weakening, and normal was only a wishful thought. After all, it wasn’t normal to sleep with dialysis tubes sticking out. It wasn’t normal to have skin turn yellow from toxins, or a face bloated from medications. Emily pushed a strand of sweaty hair from her face. Normal certainly wasn’t having a little sister who was dying. Her other friends had grandparents die, or sometimes even an aunt or uncle. No one’s little sister dies.




I have two and a half chapters of my novel, Threads of Pain, finished, plus the outline. Thanks all for your prayers--it did start flowing more smoothly. I’m still getting stuck some of the time, though. But I’m going to press on and finish this book! I would cherish your prayers.

I think this book will serve to show a bit of what life is like for those on dialysis, as well as spreading awareness of organ donation.

I have teamed up with a friend from FW, Debboggy, as a writing partner. We are encouraging, idea bouncing, and editing each other’s novels. It’s been great!! I feel like I have someone to send my chapters to, without feeling like I’m taking advantage of someone’s friendship, because I’m able to help her in return. She caught so many little things in my first chapters, too, like when I referenced something in the first chapter that I didn’t explain until the second chapter. :-p

Someone asked me if the book is based on a true story. It is not, though of course I am drawing from the experiences I have had with Mom’s dialysis and transplant, and I am even having the main character, Emily, have OCD. However, she has it for a totally different reason, and I’m also having her struggle with her faith. So I hope people don’t decide that she is a mirror of me. ;-)

I was talking about that with Mom and I said, “I guess if I’m going to be a writer I need to get used to people assuming wrong things like that, huh?” She nodded, then sighed heavily, “And I guess your family needs to get used to people assuming things about us, also.” :-p

Oaxacan Black Pottery

I have admired and bought Oaxacan black pottery in the past, but I’d never heard the story behind it. When in Mexico we not only heard the story, but saw a demonstration of how it is made.

Dona Rosa was born in the early 1900 and died in the 1980s. She, like many Oaxacans, made pots and sold them at market for her living. Then plastics came. Mexicans fell in love with the bright colors, lightness, and cheapness of plastic and stopped buying the pottery. The Mexicans and Zapotecs who depended on selling pottery for a living were in dire straights, not to mention the danger of the art of making it being lost.

Rosa signed the pottery pieces she made by rubbing the pattern of a rose into it using a piece of quartz. One day she mistakenly rubbed a whole pot, and then only left it in the kiln 6 to 8 hours instead of the customary 12 to 14. The pot came out a beautiful shiny black, instead of the dusty grey they normally were, but it was useless because it wasn’t cured enough to hold water.

She stuck it off to the side until a tourist noticed it and insisted on buying it, though Rosa protested because it was worthless. That was the beginning of the Oaxacan Black Pottery as we know it today, and the saving of the potters’ livelihoods.
Rosa’s son gave us a demonstration of the making of the pottery. He did no use a wheel, but only his hands to get the clay close to the shape and size he wished. He uses a few tools, handmade from gourds and bamboo, to shape the pottery piece more perfectly. Then it is wrapped in plastic and put in a dark place to begin the drying process. After three days it is taken back out and a mouth or neck is added.

Eight days later a pattern is added, if wished, in one of three ways. It can be stamped with bamboo tools, “pats” of clay can be added to create raised flower patterns, or a knife is used to cut out patterns. Then the pot is rubbed firmly with the quartz rock, and the pressure causes the surface to become shiny.

Now they make all kinds of the black pottery in every size and shape imaginable, from large pots, to tiny detailed vases, to adorable animal figurines.

Updates

Grandpa is home now! His hip replacement surgery went well. Now the hard part--recovery. Thanks for your continued prayers.

My sign language skit went well also! It turned out so neat. It was the story of two girls seeing the miracles of Jesus. One of them (my character) was skeptical, and found the preaching to be exceedingly boring. But at the very end, when Jesus walked up, alive, right in the middle of a conversation about His death, my character recognized His Godhood. As the time for Jesus’ “approach” grew near, my skit partner would get a twinkle in her eye. The end was a goosebump moment every single time we did it.

On the other hand, my novel isn’t going quite as well. I got a chapter written today, but I’m not terribly happy with it. The story just isn’t flowing. Normally when I’m writing a story all I have to do is guide the words a bit as they tumble out. This is feeling more like I have to extract each word.

Please pray for me that either the story would start flowing, or that I would know now is not the right time for this project.

Big Day

My grandpa is in surgery right new to get a hip replacement. I’m so glad that he finally agreed to have the surgery. He is in good health, but has been in constant pain and can no longer get around much. I am really disappointed that I’m not able to be there at the hospital for him and grandma today, due to a bad cold.

This evening my sign language partner and I are performing our skit in class. We’re really excited about it! It is a skit I wrote about two girls seeing Jesus’s miracles. Yesterday when practicing, we got the giggles. Uh oh. LOL I’m praying it will go smoothly today.

More steps forward!

As most of you know, I've been organizing and working on a sci-fi book with a group of other Christian writers from FaithWriters. Well, we have finished the rough draft!!! Wow! This has been quite an adventure and the story turned out awesome! It's hard to believe we are all done with the weekly sessions.

I still have a long road of work ahead on the project, though. I now will begin to edit and smooth it out, and convert it into a radio drama format. I'm excited, though, be on to this next step. Yay!


Also, a very respected author on FaithWriters has issued a challenge to be done in this three-week break between quarters of the FW weekly writing challenge. He said that if any of us will write an outline and the first several chapters of a novel, then he will critique them. I was planning on continuing to work on my Biblical fiction collection of short stories, and begin the research phase of my novel. But this isn't an opportunity that comes everyday, so I am going to dive into the novel on Thursday of this week (my Spring Break begins then). I'll only have a week and a half left of the three-week challenge time, but I shouldn't have trouble writing a couple of chapters in that time.

That is, as long as I can get started.... So far I'm feeling a little stuck on opening ideas... and we all know the first line is the most important. Good thing we can edit later. ;-)

I know you're all wondering what my first novel is going to be about. :-) Maybe I'll post a little of it here....but for now I'll just say it's about a young girl waiting for a kidney transplant, and about organ donation--Issues that are close to my heart.

I'd love prayer as I embark on the next step of both of these projects.

Whisper of the Mangroves

[Author's note: On Friday, March 3, 2006, a group of us went on a boat ride to a lagoon in Mexico, to see the birds and flora. The dense mangroves had facinating little trails leading deep inside them. These trails called to me.

The FaithWriters' challenge topic that week was "enter", and the boat ride provided me with the perfect story. Here it is with pictures of the real things!]

Whisper of the Mangroves

The whisper was the most insistent on days like this, when the sun was dipping near the horizon and the full moon already climbing the sky. The deep trails of the mangrove trees beckoned, enticing, “Entrar. Enter and discover our secrets.”

Each day Joél joined his father fishing in the Mexican Manialtepec Lagoon, bordered by mangroves. The trees grew tightly together, their long trunks rising out of the water, leafy branches mingling to provide the dense groves. But here and there an animal trail would make a slight opening. And each one they passed whispered to Joél in a language that even he did not quite know.

Today, today Joél was answering that call. Anticipation cut through him even as his oars cut through the green of the water. The deep burping sound of the thin black cormorants echoed around him as he paddled far into the winding lagoon. Nests of Wide-Billed Herons filled the trees, the heavy weight of termite nests covering the trunks below them.

Then he reached it; the pathway that whispered the loudest. The sun was hovering above the horizon, a red path streaming across the lagoon. The water at the mouth of the mangrove tunnel danced with flecks of red among the deep blue and green.

For a minute Joél thought the boat would not fit. Then he was in, bits of the sky peeking through the branches, tangles of vines and trunks all around him, rustling with the movement of the birds.

The tunnel opened wider. He felt suddenly that he was in a tiny cathedral, created especially for him by the hand of the Creator.

He clambered out of the boat and balanced on two spindly mangrove trunks. Turning his head upward, he let his soul open to the Creator. Here, far from civilization, surrounded by nature, Joél felt more of a connection to God then he had ever felt before.

The bits of sky had darkened to a royal blue when Joél slipped back into the boat. The tunnel led beyond the cathedral, though he had a bit of a time forcing his boat into the opening. It was challenging work to weave his way further into the grove, and the growing darkness did not help. But still the mangroves called to him, enticing him.

A long shadow moved across the water in front of him, and Joél felt the first tingle of fear. The boa constrictor paused briefly to eye the boat, and then disappeared among the roots.

Joél shook off the seriousness and paddled deeper into the grove. The path twisted and turned in a delightful way. After a bit it narrowed even more, and the boat would go no farther. An idea crept into his head and Joél hesitated. But he pushed common sense away and slipped over the edge of the boat.

The water was cold here and Joél shivered, unused to cold swimming. Roots grabbed at his legs. Promising himself he wouldn’t go out of sight of the boat, Joél moved forward, but when he turned, he found that the boat was already lost among the darkness. Night had fallen in earnest now.

Suddenly the water churned in front of Joél. A dark shape moved. Joél found himself facing the consequences of his own foolishness. He did not stop to verify that it was a crocodile, but turned swiftly back toward the boat.

That is, he thought he was headed back to the boat. Surely he should have been there by now. Joél wondered then if the whisper had not been so innocent. The whole place seemed sinister, bent on his destruction. His breath came fast.

“Dear Lord, save me from my foolishness. Help me find the boat.”

A faint splash echoed behind him. Joél wondered if he would die out here in the middle of the mangroves. Then he bumped into the boat. With his head. Hard.

Somehow he managed to grab it, spluttering hard. Rolling himself into it, he lay shivering on the bottom. The moon crept into his field of vision, bright and peaceful. “Thank You.”

As Joél passed back through the “cathedral”, he knew he would return. Next time he would be wiser. He would stay in the boat.

The water glowed with green phosphorescence where his paddle disturbed the surface as he entered the lagoon. He turned back toward the opening of the tunnel, answering the familiar whisper.

“I’ll be back.”

© 2006 Amy Michelle Wiley

Happy Belated Birthday, Mom!

Mom's birthday was last week, and I didn't get a blog post done yet, so here it is a bit late.

Happy Birthday, Mom!!!

Mom, you have done so much for me over the years, I can only brush the tip of what you mean to me. It is largely because of you that I am writing today--because of your dedication to help me through my learning problems, and because of your encouragement. It was you and Dad who taught me to love the Lord with all my heart and soul; who showed me what it means to walk by faith; who showed me how to live life to the fullest--and have fun doing it.

It was you who taught me how to learn and study, how to discover things on my own, and decide for myself what I believed about them.

Thank you, Mom. I love you!

Paletas

Thursday, March 2nd

Can we say “hot.” Ug. Ah well, I found some breeze. I slept half the day and no one seemed to be around when I got up, so I brought a book and ordered some food in the hotel’s restaurant overlooking the ocean. It catches a nice breeze there and is so pretty.

Unfortunately when my family did come around, they didn’t think to look in the restaurant for me and got a bit worried….

Right now I’m sitting in a little covered section near the hotel lobby, listening to the palm leaf roof rustle in the slight breeze and watching hummingbirds flit among the flowered bushes.
I’m thinking a paleta sounds really good, hehe. I’ve been eating lots of paletas and wonderful, freshly-made fruit juices. Paletas are a frozen popsicle of sorts made either “con leche” (with milk) or “con agua” (with water). They come in pretty much any fruit you could want, with real chunks of the fruit in it, or in chocolate. Yummy!!!


[prayer requests: as mentioned, a number of people are sick, and a number of us are having trouble with the heat.]


In the evening….
I spent a few hours body surfing. Once I figured out to hold my nose so it didn’t feel like the whole ocean was trying to force its way into my head, I had a blast! The water was so warm I almost got hot playing out there. It was lovely. My knees are complaining at me, since they got scraped up from the sand, but it was worth it!

Hello Porto Escondito!

Wednesday, March 1st

We got up very early and flew in a little 15-person air plane from Oaxaca to Porto Escondito. That was so fun!!! I’ve been in smaller planes, but never one that size. I sat right behind the pilot and next to a window. My dad’s cousin, Monte, got to sit in the co-pilot seat and even got to wear the ear phones. I got an awesome picture of it. :-D I think I'm going to enter it in the county fair.
This picture was taken from the airplane. :-)

Several of us are not feeling well, my oldest sister and my Aunt Lynn are feeling particularly badly. It is soooo HOT here, so lots of us are having some problems with the heat. My poor five-year-old niece got dehydrated and was really out of it tonight. As we walked back from dinner she says, “I feel like there is a wave ride here on the street.” Poor thing was dizzy.

I took several naps today, hehe, and plan on sleeping a lot tomorrow. Then I’m gonna rent a boogie board!!

Goodbye Oaxaca…I’ll be back.

March 1st

There are only two places in the world where my heart feels at home. My home in the Pacific Northwest, and Oaxaca, Mexico. This is only my second visit to Oaxaca, but I’ve grown up hearing tales of Dad and his family’s adventures there, and he has a close friend there, David N.

I’m curious to see if Oaxaca has any part in God’s plans for my future.

Monte Albán

Tuesday, Feb 28th

Today all of us (except Mom, who stayed home to rest) took a tour to Monte Albán. The guide was the same who took us on Sunday, a brother from El Buen Pastor, the Oaxaca church. Monte Albán is the site of a Zapotek city that was established some thousands of years before Christ.

A common question we asked was, “Why are the steps of the pyramids so tall, when the people were small?” Our guide told us it was because they were not only steps, but also seats like bleachers. The pyramid-like cathedrals were not built like now, where one can walk inside, but instead they were tall places where religious ceremonies could take place close to the heavens and where all could observe. Some of the pyramids were sacred, and only the priests could climb them.

Monte Albán was built on the top of a mountain that they figure took some 800 years to flatten the top so that the city could be built.

Here you can see what they call the “Zapotec Dancers.” There are a number of theories about what they signify, but the most recent is that the Zapotecs used them as a warning. It was said that the Zapotecs would take their prisoners of war and dislocate their wrists and ankles.

Hello-ello-elo-lo-lo-o-o

Is everything okay out there in cyber-space? I seem to have lost most of my readers...or at least my commenters. Only a few of you are left. I do have my blog set up so anyone can comment. Anyone at all...


LOL

Interviewing Amy

(I inturrupt this Mexico report to bring you a special announcement from home...)

I had the privilage to be the feature author in this month's FaithWriters' Magazine. One of my shrot stories and an interview of me appears on the front page here. Thought you might enjoy it. :-)

Hot and sick

Hi from Porto Escondito! We are supposed to have wireless at this hotel, but it comes and goes on whim, and is gone more often than not, so is almost worthless.

Anyway, I had a blast yesterday body surfing in the very warm ocean. It was a great break from the hot, hot weahter here. It was especially enjoyable after I started plugging my nose. ;-) I didn't much like the feeling of the whole entire ocean trying to force its way into my head. LOL

Today, though, I am sick. My oldest sister and her girls were quite sick yesterday, and AJ is still not feeling well. We are scedualed to go on a sunset cruise to see birds and flora, but we'll see if I'm feeling up to it.

Leisurely Day

I spent most of the day leisurely shopping. Those who know me, know I don’t much enjoy shopping, but somehow with family and friends in Mexico it’s a bit more fun (though my feet did get sore). First, Wendy took Mom, Aunt Lynn, cousin Cathy, and me to a row of jewelry stores. I saw a number of very pretty things, but decided against each of them.

Then we wandered around the Zócalo (town square) for a while, people watching. Most of our group wandered by at one time or another. Wendy told us that Oaxaca’s Zócalo has recently been redone and is now one of the nicest Zócalos in Mexico. It is quite lovely with a large gazebo for musicians in the middle. Wide paths lead out all around the gazebo, crossing around flower and tree planters with concrete block borders just the right height for sitting.

Mom and I had a long, quiet lunch in the Zócalo. We each ordered soup and nonchalantly added the sides of avocado, onion, etc to them. Oooops! Mom has orders from her doctor to only eat fruit and vegetables that she has seen washed (in purified water) or from a safe place. Praying neither of us, especially her, get sick. At least it was a yummy lunch!


In the afternoon we could see camera and sound crews setting up their supplies in the courtyard of our hotel. Turns out they were going to film a TV show there! It was a singing group that goes all over Mexico, to churches and all sorts of places. I thought I was going to be able to watch from the perfect vantage point of my balcony window right above the courtyard, so I was quite disappointed that our family dinner was scheduled elsewhere right in the middle of the time. I didn’t get to see any of it. But, the restaurant we went to actually served me meat with no spices, because of my allergies. Usually they say they will leave off the sauces and spices, but when it comes I will see that the meat was already marinated in it or something…

Before dinner we went to the market in search of a dress and skirt for me. I bought two blouses and one skirt in about 45 minutes!!! Now mind you, most of the rest of the women in our group would have spent, at very least, hours shopping for those. LOL Indeed, we bumped into my oldest sister, AJ, in the market, and she was also looking for a skirt and blouse outfit. She had been there a few hours before I got there and she still doesn’t have anything. :-p

When we arrived at the restaurant Aunt Lynn and Cathy called to me down the long table, “Did you get a pink or purple skirt?” When I answered “purple” they cheered and gave each other a high five. “We guessed right!” LOL

Oaxaca, Mexico

Hello from an internet cafe´in Oaxaca, Mexico! I am typing on a Spanish keyboard, and everything but the letters are in different places, so forgive any oddities. :-)

I realized that I never posted about my trip here on the blog--I guess I just expected those of you who didn't hear about it other places to use osmosis or something... So here's the scoop.

My dad grew up inCentral America, since his parents were missionaries. He spent most of his childhood in Oaxaca and the nearby tiny town of Mitla. Last year we decided it would be awfully fun to take a family reunion there. So here we are, with twenty of Dad's family!

I should be on-line more as of Thursday or maybe Wednesday, and probably won'tbe on-line until then. See ya!

This is Mexico

All twenty of our group have made it to Mexico safely (though a few nearly got left behind or lost). I must say, this has been the easiest trip into Mexico I have ever had. That said, there is no doubt, however, that we are indeed in Mexico.

In fact, that has become a bit of a joke. If one should complain, or comment on an unconventionality (¨There are no hotel rooms for half the group even though we{ve had reservations for six months and you called a few days ago¨?!), the rest of the group will nod sagely and respond, ¨This is Mexico.¨

Even the taxi ride was uneventful. Yes, the group´s two taxis raced a little, but at least it was on a four lane road and they wre both on the correct side of the road. As for the fact that our driver was watching All Dogs Go To Heaven in Spanish on a little portable TV as he drove, well, this is Mexico. ;-)




{prayer update: Cousin Mary (84 years old) fell this morning. She is all right, but a little bruised and she twisted her ankle a little. Mom´s injured leg muscle didn´t much like the long plane trip, but she´s getting around okay. My cold hasn´t gotten too bad, yet. Thanks for the prayers!!}

Aleluya

Sunday, Feb. 26.

Today was a full, blessed day. We began with a church service at El Buen Pastor (The Good Pastor), which was started by one of my dad’s best friends, David N. A couple of the church members are tour guides, so they picked up our group in two fourteen passenger buses and spent the whole day taking us from place to place.

The church was very excited to have us visiting, and it was a wonderful service. I could understand odd words and sentences of the sermon, and at least caught that it was about living a Christian life, though I didn’t understand much beyond that.

My nieces (5 and 3½) went to Sunday School and David’s wife, Wendy, taught it bilingually for them. AJ came rushing out after the service calling, “Aunt Amy, Aunt Amy, I have a surprise for you!” and proudly presented me with a picture she had colored, and then quoted the Bible verse they had learned in class.

I think my six month old niece distracted everyone behind her. They were all grinning back at her instead of listening to the sermon. At least one lady stood up in the middle of the sermon because she just had to hold the beaming baby.

I love singing in Spanish, even if I don’t understand all of the words. It was especially fun and challenging to translate the Spanish into American Sign Language, so I could sing and sign as I normally do.


After the service Wendy took us to a buffet place, which was fun, though I was unable to eat much because of my food allergies. Then we were off to see Le Tulle, a tree with the largest-around trunk in the world. We were privileged to see a passing christening party, headed with full parade to the church next to the tree. The parade was complete with a full band, as well as church bells and fireworks.

Next stop was the ruins in the town of Mitla. We climbed the remains of an old castle, listening to the stories of the human and animal sacrifices that took place there.

We attended evening services in Mitla. This is a new church, recently planted by El Buen Pastor. After our own church dissipated, we chose to give the remaining funds to the Mitla church to go toward buying land and building a church building. Dad has made a number of trips to this area in the last few years, facilitating the transfer of funds. So this church was so excited to have all of us visit.

They brought us out to see the new land--a lovely, shaded spot. Currently this church is meeting in a three-sided building, with a tarp on the open wall to keep out some of the wind and sun. Tonight it was quite cold, and a number of us forgot to bring jackets. My nieces and I huddled close in an attempt to keep warm in the strong wind that found its way into the church.

The church was wonderful. Both churches were very warm and welcoming. The Mitla church is about fifty people. I didn’t catch any of the sermon that time around (though I was a little distracted watching my middle niece play with the Mexican toddler sharing the pew with us ;-) ). The music was wonderful. One of the songs, I’m guessing, was written specifically for this church. It used The Alleluia Chorus as its chorus.

I closed my eyes and listened. Aleluya, aleluya, aleluya, aleluya. The voices mingled, Spanish and English accents merging to form the sound of perfect praise. Tingles went up my arms and I nearly began to cry.


As if that wasn’t enough, the children performed a skit of Moses. They were so creative! The burning bush was a potted tree wound with Christmas lights and covered with yellow cellophane, complete with a recorded voice. After the skit, the children sang for us. So beautiful.

We were served Mexican hot chocolate (oh, did that hit the spot on this chilly night!) and pan, different kinds of sweet bread. After returning to our hotel, our group plus a few from El Buen Pastor, gathered around for tamales and fellowship. We chatted comfortably for a long while, and I shared the stories I have out in the most recent FaithWriter anthology with my dad’s second-cousin and his mother, Cousin Mary.

My sister AJ followed me to my hotel suite and we chatted about your writing and life until late.

Yes, full day. Full of Aleluyas.


[prayer updates: Mom and Cousin Mary are doing quite well, happily hobbling about, arm in arm. My food allergies were a particular challenge today, and I ended up eating a bit of sever allergens a couple of times. But so far no big reactions! Praying it won’t come tomorrow.]

My Week

Hehe, I am making this post from the airport, getting ready to fly to Mexico! Yay! We are having a family reunion there. I’ll be making posts about our adventures as long as I can find internet access. But for now, I’ll catch up on the news of this week.

Tuesday I had an appointment with my naturopath for some testing. Turns out that I have very little stomach acid. This could be the reason for a lot of my troubles, including my persistent lung infection. The good news is that there is a supplement that the Mora testing showed would help. So when I get back from the trip I will start that treatment.

My signing class on Wednesday went well. We spent the class working on our group skits that we will perform on the last class of the semester. Though the groups are supposed to be bigger, I ended up in a two-person group. It’s working perfectly for us. My partner is about my age and lives near me, but best of all, she is a Christian.

So, with her help, I wrote a Christian skit for us to perform. It is kind of a character sketch of two girls seeing Jesus. Since there are just two of us, we are showing what is going on entirely by our conversation to each other.

We are both really excited about this skit. In fact, I found myself getting chills every time I did the last line. I pray it will plant some seeds in our class.

A Day with FaithWriters

Yesterday a FaithWriter friend was in town for vacation, so the two other FWs who live in the area and I (and some of our family members) got together. It was the first time I had met some of them in person. It was fun!

Originally we had planned on going hiking, but since it was around 20 degrees plus high winds, we decided an inside activity sounded like a better idea. ;-) So we spent the day at an interactive science museum. The special feature was animation, and we had great fun adding our voices to cartoons and playing with all the exhibits.

I Await

I await, my beloved, to see your face
to hear you call my name
my heart is silent
listening to hear
a whisper of your love
yearning to echo it back

When the sun rises above the hill
I wonder
if perhaps you watch it, too
you could be right next door
or maybe on the world around
watching the close of day

I see a child laugh
cuddle close to her mom
I imagine our children
yours and mine
the joy we’ll someday share

I look around
to see your brilliant smile
to feel your gentle arms
but I find only longing
wondering
hoping
trusting that God’s perfect time will bring you near

My heart is waiting
I keep it hidden, safe
wanting only you
hearing the promise of forever
in the whisper of my dreams

I will wait, my love
for you



© 2005 Amy Michelle Wiley

Can You Hear Any Better?

As many of you know, I found a computer microphone laying around the other day and I have been having a blast playing around with it. Unfortunately, it wasn't so fun trying to get it on this blog...but thanks to help from many of you, here at last it is! :-) It may take 10 minutes to load if you have dail up. :-( I'll try to figure out if I can get it faster. But hey, you can do other things while it loads. ;-)

This story was written as a joke, so it's a rather silly story, and of course I don't have any professional tools to work with, but I think you'll enjoy it. A few months ago I was working on a story for the Faith Writers challenge with the topic "Spring". I mentioned on the message boards that I was having trouble finding a name for my main character. Well, Deb, the challenge coordinator, teasingly posted a list of rather long and odd names. I responded that they were all female names, so she posted another list of male names and then put "Any Better?".

Now, if she had stopped there I wouldn't have thought much of it, but then she added, "Uh, that last one wasn't a name..." Well, then I just had to write something! So this story was born. It uses every single name she listed--no more and no less. ;-) It also uses the Spring theme in two different ways. Enjoy!

Any Better

Oh, and to tie this in with my last post... Yes, this story is wacky, but check out the actual challenge entry I submitted that week! Spring Will Come Too Late LOL

Funny Being Me

You know, I’ve been thinking lately… Those who know me, know that I’m generally a very happy person. I’m very easily amused and pretty much anything will tickle my funny bone. In fact, apparently I myself am rather amusing. Or so my friends tell me quite frequently. I’ll be carrying on a normal conversation and all of a sudden a friend will burst out laughing, “Ha! You’re so funny Amy!” Leaving me standing there blankly wondering what exactly was so funny.

In fact, once after just such an explosion, I asked a friend, “What was so funny? I was just talking. Just being me.”

The response? “You’re funny being you.”

OK. So now that it is firmly established, we get to the odd part. God made me funny. God made me a writer. So wouldn’t it make sense that I be a humor writer? Now, I do write humor occasionally. But the fact is, what I write the most, and what I have gotten published the most, well, are melancholy at best.

But you know what? I enjoy it!

Go figure.

Crafting Classifiers

In my sign language class we’ve been learning about classifiers. In ASL, classifiers are hand movements or hand shapes that are not a particular sign, but that describe an object by its shape, movement, or location.

Today we had a project kinda like Show and Tell…only we Told and Did… LOL Each one of us brought a craft or cooking project or something like that, and gave directions to classmates on how to complete it. Here’s a pic of the of the finished product. I think it turned out quite good considering about five different people made it, with no spoken words exchanged...even if there are ants falling from the sky... ;-)

We had a quiz today, too, and I think it went pretty well, too.

More Memories...

Part 2: More from my diary.

Saturday (28th, 2001),
Sis and I started our day at 4:00 a.m. We all got to pray together before Mom was wheeled out for surgery. Mom was still in high spirits when they had her go from her bed to the stretcher-thing. After she was situated a nurse plopped a cardboard box on the bed beside Mom’s legs. “Here you go! Bond!”

We all looked with surprise. The box was marked ‘right kidney’. The nurse grinned. “A lot of patients name it.” Inwardly I rolled my eyes. Name it what? Suzy?

But Mom announced, “I’ll name it Fast Working.” Well, that was a pretty good name.

“Okay,” the nurse agreed. “We’ll call it FW.”

Mom’s surgery started at about 9:00 and finished at about 12:30. The doctor said that everything went well and that the kidney started working even in the operating room! Sometimes a kidney will go into shock from being in ice and will not start working for several days or weeks, so this is so neat! Poor FW was probably in there going, “Yuck! This place is filthy!”

Once when an older lady was walking by with her husband to return to her room just past Mom’s, I smiled at her and said, “Hello!” I expected her to be to tired to respond, but her face broke out in a huge grin and she told me, “I needed that smile! I was just wondering if I was going to make it [back to my room].” That was fun. I’ve gotten to talk to her a couple of times. It sounds like they are Christians too, because of how she has responded to comments I’ve made about prayer.


Sunday (29th),
Mom was awake and cheerful when Sis and I finally got there. Allen and Mary had come that morning. Mary was crying. She said that on Friday she was praying really hard specifically for a kidney for Mom. That would have been while the doctors were checking out the kidney’s tissue to see who was the best match. My cousin had been especially burdened to pray for Mom last week, too. It has been awesome to hear how so many people had been praying even harder than usual for Mom this week!

A Day Of Memories

Today is a sorrowful day, a day that marks the anniversary of the death of a healthy young adult. A family is grieving, remembering the life of a young lady. But the story does not end there. For, because of a family’s selfless decision, today is also a joyous day, the anniversary of the start of a new life.

You see, five years ago my mom was quite ill. Her kidneys had failed and her dialysis was no longer working well. The disease is hereditary and none of us could give her a kidney. He was on the national donor list, but the average wait is two years.

So we prayed. In fact, on this very day, five years ago, a friend of our said, “Lord, please give Carol a kidney today.”

God said yes.

A young lady lost her life that day. But because she and her family made the decision for her to be an organ donor, it wasn’t the end of her story. And because of that, my mom gained more life that day.

I am going to post some excerpts from my diary entry of that day. You may also enjoy reading a short story, Celebration of Life, I wrote about this which is published in a Faith Writer’s book.


Friday (January 27, 2001),
Talk about an awesome day!! Wow! I guess I’ll start at the beginning. . . :-)
AJ’s baby shower was tonight. We were expecting about forty people at our house at 7:00 p.m.

It was about 6:20 when the phone rang. Mom almost didn’t answer it, but decided that since she was right there she would go ahead and pick it up.

I was mopping the kitchen floor as Mom was talking. She looked at me and pointed excitedly at her tooth (she broke one a while ago but they couldn’t get her in to fix it yet). I though it must be the dentist saying that they could get her in sooner than her current appointment. I thought 6:20 was kind of late for a dentist’s place to be calling, but. . .

As I listened to her side of the conversation, I started wondering. It sounded like they had a kidney. But that couldn’t be. She had only been on the list for about six months. The average wait is two years.

I asked Mom, “Is this it?” She nodded. I stared at her. This couldn’t be it. “They have a kidney?” Wide-eyed, she nodded again, but I still didn’t quite think I was hearing right. I started crying anyway. “This would be really stupid if she gets off the phone and it wasn’t the kidney at and here I am crying!” I thought to myself.

Mom got off the phone but cautioned us, “If my broken tooth has any infection they won’t be able to do the surgery. So it probably won’t happen. I told them I would be there within two hours.”

We went to high gear, despite our shock. “And all the people coming over tonight??”

When we arrived at OHSU, they sent Mom up to get x-rayed [to verify that all was well in her body]. Then we went upstairs to get Mom checked into her room and she changed into one of those lovely, breezy gowns.

Mom had four doctors. It was so funny watching all of them exam Mom. One doctor opens her mouth to look at her tooth and all four bend down trying to see in [without banging heads]. One doctor would be on one side of her listening to her heart beat and another on the other side. They were all talking in medical jargon, so Mom would ask, “What does that mean?” and all four would answer her.

Everything, including the tooth, was fine! Mom was so excited-- she was just beaming. They decided to wait to do the surgery until first thing in the morning because there wasn’t an available surgeon.

After the baby shower AJ left our house and came to see Mom, only she got lost and after a long ended up at another nearby hospital. But it was empty and she got locked/lost inside it. So she was wandering around an empty hospital crying.

When she finally got to OHSU and walked in the receptionist looked at her and said, “Oh, you’re on the wrong floor! We don’t deliver babies here!”
Angela told him, “No, I’m actually here to visit my Mom who is getting the transplant.”

“Oh,” he beamed. “You must be the one who got lost coming from Vancouver.”
It still seems so unreal. The transplant is something that is maybe going to happen in the future, not something that is happening now! What an awesome day! Thank you, God! What perfect timing!


Tomorrow I will post more about the transplant itself. In the meantime, I’d like to encourage you, if you have not already made the decision to be an organ donor, please pray about it. If you have made that decision, please talk to your family about it, as they are the ones who will make the ultimate decision.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!!!

My parents have a long history together. It started in 1st grade. Okay, so they don’t remember each other from then, but here it is in black and white--solid proof! Mom is the one in-between the teacher and the sign-holder and Dad is the dark-haired one behind her on the left.

Dad’s family left for the mission field the next year, but throughout his life as the family returned in the summer for furloughs, Dad and Mom had mutual friends.

Their first date was when they were twelve and thirteen or so. A Christian camp they were at had a banquet and then a fireside party. Dad was too shy to ask her to the banquet, but at the banquet he asked her to the fireside (after all, her date hadn’t specifically asked her to the fireside, had he?). The next day word had it that her original date would be waiting around a corner somewhere for Dad…

After a year of Bible seminary, Dad began his own painting business, and after Mom returned from Bible college, they began dating and Mom even worked for Dad. A few years later Dad asked her to marry him and she said yes (as if you didn’t figure that one out, lol). Dad’s parents happened to be in town on furlough at the time. They were headed back to Central America in one month, and they told Dad and Mom that they would be unable to come back for a wedding, so perhaps they should consider having the ceremony right away.

At first Mom decided there was no way she could plan a wedding in four weeks. Two weeks went by and she realized that it was more important to have Dad’s parents at the wedding then to have the perfect wedding. Their wedding was planned in two weeks! So the mother of the bride was wearing pink and the mother of the groom was wearing a clashing red? Who cares, it was a beautiful wedding! :-D

But even more beautiful are the years that have followed that. Thirty-three years of marriage, twenty-nine years of parenting, twenty-five years of home schooling, five years of grandparenting… What a privilege to have parents so dedicated to each other, to their family, and most of all, to their God.

Thank you Mom and Dad.

Radio and Dramatic Readings

One has to wonder how many dreams can come true in so short of a time. If it goes on like this, next thing I know I’ll be married and headed to the mission field in Mexico! (Though at the moment I no longer feel called to go out on the field--my writing is my ministry right now. So maybe it won’t be Mexico… But I digress.)

I have been offered the opportunity to be involved in some radio dramas through Unchained Productions. Some of you know that I have always wanted to try radio. When I was growing up I listened to Adventures in Oddyssey radio adventures and to animated movies and imagined what it would be like to be one of the voices.

Though I have never had the opportunity to try radio, dramatic reading has always been a part of my life. When I was a toddler, both my parents would read to me using special voices for all the characters. As I grew older, reading aloud stayed a part of our life. My family spent many a car trip or Sunday evening taking turns reading out loud or, more often, listening to books on tape. In fact, when my sister and now-brother-in-law were courting, the six of us read aloud the Narnia series.

What cherished memories! I can pictured Dad laughing until tears ran down his face at the escapades of Laddie. I remember the wonder Mark found in the first lion scene of Prince Caspian. How helpful it was when Sis explained the history during A Tale of Two Cities and I can see the twinkle in Mom’s eyes as she figured out what was going to happen next. I can hear the love in AJ’s voice as she recorded a whole tape of short stories for me to listen to when I was sick.

Perhaps through these radio dramas I may get to take part, I will become a part of some other family’s traditions, as they listen together.

Signing Class

Last night I had my second sign language class of this semester. Last semester there were thirty students in the class. This semester there are ten. It’s nice having fewer, though. Not only can I see better (direct vision of the teacher is, obviously, a must for a signing class), but I already know the names of everyone in class.

We have triple the load of homework this semester! When I got the schedule I saw that we have a quiz on the day I will miss class for our family reunion in Mexico. The papers said that the only way students could do make-ups for quizzes was for an emergency like a funeral. So it looked like I would have to stay home. L Well, I emailed the teacher just to check, and she said she would be willing to work with me so that I could go! That is very kind of her, especially since a signing test isn’t just a written test that can be easy to make up.

Last night in class we were working on describing objects using classifiers. It struck me as particularly funny that we were all unconsciously doing sound effects… Like when describing an air pump, “Puuuugh”. LOL

My new carpool friend from class seems very nice. She is also a Christian and was home schooled for part of her schooling. I actually got to listen to Christian music on the way to class (last week I was stuck with rock love songs…). She had on a CD by a group of four young men who sing a capella. They are great! They even do sound effects so it nearly sounds like they have a drum and keyboard.

Imagination in Chores

It seems that when I was quite young, I had a bit of trouble learning the all-important life skill of doing chores when I would rather have been playing (come to think of it, that’s still something that gives me a bit of trouble). So Dad came up with the plan of teaching me how to make work into a game. While I don’t remember that exactly, I do remember as I grew older.

Many were the hours I spent traveling around the world, though in body I was scrubbing floors or washing windows. How much more fun it was to smuggle soap in to Jewish prisoners, than to rub at the dirty dishes! When picking up around the house, I became a mail carrier in a small town, hailing my friends as I dropped off packages. Chopping up vegetables turned into being a cook in a wealthy household, being sure to save large scraps for the poor. While raking the grass I was, of course, a girl in Old Testament times, gleaning the leftover harvest.

The most handy thing about all this came during those times I was in the house alone and something went bump. All I had to do was take up the sword of my imagination and ahah! The would-be kidnapper/assassin/robber was outsmarted by my guile and taken away in handcuffs. Or better yet, he would have a dramatic conversion and turn himself in.

There were drawbacks to my “games”, however… While folding clothes may be an ordinary boring thing to do, it really doesn’t take long. Unless, of course, the jumpsuit tugs you off for a waltz in the corner and then the lacy dress pulls you over to a tea party on the window seat. Sorting socks can be a rather lengthy process, also, when each sock is a character in the drama, desperately trying to find its mate… But most disconcerting of all, I must say, is listening to the weeds scream and threat and whine as you are pulling them, even if the flowers are giving a happy sigh of relief.

But while some in the family might wish, at times, that I hadn’t been granted quite such a thorough imagination, I can’t imagine how boring life must be without it… ;-) So, next time you’re washing dishes and get frustrated over that one spot that won’t come off of the broiler pan, take a minute to build islands and bridges with the soapsuds. But make sure it is only a few minutes. Otherwise your water will get cold and the suds will disappear. Trust me, I know.

If I had $1,000

This weekend Dad was going through some papers and found some old notes of my sisters and I. Apparently at some point we each made a list of what we would buy if we had one thousand dollars. Since we were quite young they are pretty funny.

AJ generously put down a large gift for each of us before choosing one for herself and leaving some money for savings. Sis's was the funniest, with a huge list of things all crossed out, leaving just one thing and a note to put the rest in the bank.

As for mine, well, here it is. The nice handwriting is AJ's. ;-)

Translation: I would buy three horses, some groceries, an Indian doll, an aquarium, some hay, a piece of property with a barn....And put the rest in the bank.

The Indian doll mentioned is one thing on that list I did eventually buy. My great-aunt hand-crafted beautiful dolls the size and weight of a sixteen month old baby. Some of them, like the one I have, were Native American.

I must say, though, my favorite part of this list is where AJ estimates the cost... ;-) BTW, AJ, I want to know where I can get three horses and property with a barn for less than $5,000!

Happy New Year 2006!!

I stand tall at the brink of a brand new year
Full of excitement and just a little fear
I turn from the past with a bit of a sigh
Take God’s hand and look the future in the eye

I step in faith, though I don’t know what it holds
I’m just betting this year will break all the molds
We will take on the world and change it for good
I’ll burn my light bright, not hide under a hood

I quiver with excitement and look ahead
This year will be better than anything said
Right from the start to the end of December
This will be a year that we will remember

I stand tall at the brink of a brand new year
Maybe I’ll travel, or perhaps I’ll stay near
It’s farewell to the old, we must say goodbye
Take God’s hand and look the future in the eye



Well, the new year came in with a storm. Literally. A wind and rain storm and now we have no electricity... So much for my plan of spending most of the day writing and such on my computer. I have about two precious hours of my laptop bettery and then... LOL It amazes me how many time I have tried to flip on a light in just the few hours the electricity is off, hehe.

Well, besides what I mentioned in my last post, I just have two New Years' resolutions. But the first one encompasses many things. :-)

1. Be responsible about getting a good schedual and sticking to it.

2. Get a book written and into a publisher.

I pray that the Lord may bless each of you with a year walking close to His side. Happy 2006!