Hi I'm Tiffany Vakilian and this is Transformative Language Arts in Practice. I am enthralled by TLA and the way it affects my life.
I write, I sing, I praise, I create, etc. I am an artist and a womanist, well read and a little nutty because of it. I support artists on their journey to and celebration of wholeness-- be it mental, physical, social, financial or - most importantly - spiritual. These are my findings as I search for truth and freedom via word.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
With a heart celebrating in its sorrow because of great love, I give you my Saturday Post-
The amount of stories and
passing memories flow in and out of my waking mind as I look back over my
concept of Andrew. SOOOO many buzzwords, faith, family, obedience, Godfather...
served God, and did so with all that was in him. In serving God he served man,
and the world was affected by him. He fell a few times, scuffed up his knees
and elbows, but he always got back up and continued to run the race. He did not
stop fighting the fight of faith, and when he went home, he was in the midst of
doing the work of God.
Andrew lived for his family, no
matter how you define that word. From a ninja loving adolescent in Wire
Mountain 2, he stepped up to be a father and husband/provider for our immediate
family. It was not easy for him, and it took the hand of God to help him shift
from the mentality ofaww man
I have to... towhoa man I
get to... and neither choice came without affliction and mistakes. And
he is my big brother. And he did for me what all big brothers were supposed to
do for their little sisters, but he did the Andrew way.
never forget the time he and I went to the Arlington Cemetery and Iwo Jima
Memorial. I'll never forget singing in the LCC choir with him (and getting in
trouble because we were "Bearding out"). I'll never forget when I
drove out from Kingman, Arizona to Las Vegas to see him when he was with Pastor
Johnson. I will never forget when he took me to Panera and over chipotle
chicken panini, he apologized for having "salt sprinkled with grace"
instead of "grace sprinkled with salt". Or the #1 cook apron I made
for both he and Eric the same Christmas. Or the photos on the steps that we
took every Thanksgiving. Or the way he told stories. Or the times he gave me
verses to meditate on when I was going through trials. His made-up words that
have become part of my lexicon. Cutting up at Myc's wedding, trying not to
laugh when they poured the unity sand. Giving him the boutonniere at my
own wedding, and his look of "what am I supposed to do with
this?" His RANDOM voicemails. His not-so-random voicemails.
was the one I called when the doctors found the lump in my breast. He was the
one I called when the lumps were gone. We prayed together. We praised together.
My big brother man of God. There are so many words, and I’ll never say this
right. But I love my big brother, and I know that he loved me, I know he loved
God, and I KNOW that God loves him. He and my Moses are up in heaven right now,
praising God together – both races run beautifully.
Number 7 by the lake at the Eternal Hills Cemetery and Mortuary in Oceanside, CA is his final address. Andrew is in our hearts, but feel free to share time and space at the point of contact.