So this is what I have decided: I am going to stop worrying a bit about how I spend my time and how many people I have to spend it with. What if I just enjoyed myself, didn't give myself so many expectations to live up to. I just had some coffee with an old friend and I realized that there are some things in life that are just not that important. There are some people in life that you just have to let go of. There are people out there that I just can't be best friends with all the time and there are people from my past, from high school, from this old part of my life that I need to not try so hard to maintain. It may end up just being fake and draining. What if I just enjoyed being here at home, in this room, in this house, with this family, playing with my toys, enjoying just being for a while so that I can get back to living the rest of my life.
That's the thing about college. It seems to be more like reality. Even though it seems also like a dream when you are away. But seriously, what if I just focused on the stuff that is natural, the stuff I don't have to try real hard to made work when in reality, I don't even know what it is good for. Who are the people who are really meant to be in my sphere of influence and who are the people who just aren't right now?
Superman. er. woman. What if I just accepted that fact that not only am I a superhero, I never have to be one. What if I were just a girl, who worried less about my life and just spent more energy living it. How nice would that be.
I think I am getting to the point in this break where I stop freaking out and start having enough clarity to enjoy it. AHhhhhhh.. its nice.
And now, off to the Newsboys Concert! woot!
Thursday, December 29
Wednesday, December 28
Trust
Abba has been talking to me a lot about trust lately. I've been reading B. Manning's "The Relentless tenderness of Jesus," and here is a quote that really penetrated today:
I have been doing a lot of worrying lately about the summer and next year, which seems both near and far all at once-- I do not know if the near or the far is bigger at this point. I've never had to procure a place to live before. Its always just been there. And the people with which to live were also readily present. And I find myself at a bit of a starting over place in terms of the who and the how. I chose a new sort of road that is leading me away from the safe and secure that I was getting ready to anticipate in the last few months. Things seem much more open now. Open meaning both clear and beautiful, but also more unknown. More trusting is becomming needed.
There are also a number of things that are out of my control. Even the things that you would think I could control have slipped my grip. One of my closest friends-- and answer to a promise-- seems to have been taken away from me. And not only am I wondering how I will ever survive without her, she needs more encouragement than I do. I want to be there for her, I want to be an encouragement to her, but I cannot do it all. I have a problem with forgetting, and laziness, and business, and schoolwork. Even when it comes to this, I am so very human. I am not able to sustain her. Even though I want to. And so I must trust. I must pray, I must remember that she has a creator, who not only can see her, but knows her deeper, knows what she needs. Even though she seems to be out of my reach for the moment, she is not out of his grip.
I would like to have the power to fix my family. I would like to have the power to keep myself from adding to the pain and the chaos. I would like to make things different but I fear I am only an addition to the problem. Surprisingly enough, this is also and area where I find myself to be human. Small. Limited. Weak. Poor. And so I have to trust. I have to trust that the healing God really is doing is bigger than the ways I fear I may be messing it up. I have to trust that there is grace for me too. There is grace for the fact that I struggle with loving my sister, grace for my own outbrusts, grace for the times when all I know to do are scream, or cry, or just shout, "leave me alone." Grace for the insurmountable number of times when there seems to be just no answer, no way out. I do not want to become the evil that I see happening around me, but it is a fear that I may never find a way to do anything else.
Everything is so confused and tangled, turned around and jabbed into our hearts. Somehow I have to trust that the bitterness, the anger, the pain, the firey darts that I feel heatedly hurled across the dinner table yet one more time yet again and again and again and again and again will somehow not create such a deep hard dark shell that maybe somehow someday someone will be able to break through. It makes me feel like there is something I can do. Something I can say. Something I can stop. Is it really possible that this very same wound has been festoring in my own family line since Adam? Could this be? It does not seem possible. This is why I hate that stupid label. "I grew up in a chirstian home." What in the world does that mean? Its a lie. I don't think there ever is such a thing. Its an excuse. A coverup. A suffocating label that means we don't have to really face what is going on. Sometimes I think maybe I struggle with "traditional Christian churches" so much. They are a label. This is all. We're a "church family." What is family? What does this mean? It seems all the families that I have known have been labels. Claims. We call ourselves a family, so that must mean something. Pysically yes.
And what can I do? I'm failing. Drowning. fighting a rushing current without legs or arms. There are a lot of days when I just want to give up. I am so tired of just submitting, saying the right thing to keep the peace. Giving in to what people want me to do becuase I'm going to feel guilty for it anyway. As my mom says, "If only it were really my fault so that I could do something about it." Trusting that maybe it isn't my fault. Trusting that nothing I could ever do could fix this mess and that's okay.
Needless to say, I am learning firsthand why forgiveness is letting ourselves off the hook.
I guess this is a bit of understanding of what the human struggle really looks like. We've been hinding behind the "christian family" label for so long that we've been able to also numb our awareness and pain of the human struggle as a whole. It was easy to close ourselves off in this little ranch style and think we are the only ones. But there is a whole world out there. Dying. Chopping each other to peices-- one family at a time.
I saw this little girl at the grocery store the other day. She was there with her brother and what I assume to be her parents. Her dad looked like he couldn't be too old, but he looked aged in his eyes. She pointed and begged for a pack of gum as she tripped around her dad's feet. Her mom paid for the groceries and she too looked old and young at the same time. I looked at that little girl dressed nicely in a pink shirt but looking a bit dirtied from the day and this one thought came to my mind: I wonder if she is loved. I mean, really loved. Or could she be continuing this endless cycle where she only feels a little loved and goes searching for it and only finds children of her own who she does not know how to love either. We could go into whether or not I was being judgemental based on appearances, that 30 second encounter I had with the family, but that's not the point. That's the human struggle isn't it? Do you ever look around and just wonder if people have really experienced love?
And trust. That's what I was talking about. I have to trust that there is someone bigger out there, who knows how to love. I don't feel very confident in my ability to love. I'm very near to bankrupt in that area. And yet, somehow this trust comes from love. I really feel like I suck at it.
"You will trust God only as much as you love Him. And you will love Him not because you have studied Him; you will love Him in response to his touch. Even when your troubles are not over. You may still wrangle with God. You may cry out with Jesus, 'My God, my God, why have you foresaken me?' Only if you love will you make that final leap into the darkness: 'Father, into your hand I commit my spirit...You will trust God only as much as you love Him. In the past few months, I have been faced with the need to allow God to take charge of my life. I have found myself praying, teach me to trust you with my life, teach me to leave it in your hands. College seems to be a place of very important decisions needing to be made on little resources and a short amount of time. Its entering a world very much bigger than I.
...I believe Jesus calls all of us to let go of the desire to appear good, to give up the appearance of being good, so that we can listen to the word within us and move into the mystery of who we are. The preoccupation with projecting the perfect image, with being a model Christian and edifying others with our virtues leads to self-consciousness, sticky pedestal behavior, and bondage to human respect..."
I have been doing a lot of worrying lately about the summer and next year, which seems both near and far all at once-- I do not know if the near or the far is bigger at this point. I've never had to procure a place to live before. Its always just been there. And the people with which to live were also readily present. And I find myself at a bit of a starting over place in terms of the who and the how. I chose a new sort of road that is leading me away from the safe and secure that I was getting ready to anticipate in the last few months. Things seem much more open now. Open meaning both clear and beautiful, but also more unknown. More trusting is becomming needed.
There are also a number of things that are out of my control. Even the things that you would think I could control have slipped my grip. One of my closest friends-- and answer to a promise-- seems to have been taken away from me. And not only am I wondering how I will ever survive without her, she needs more encouragement than I do. I want to be there for her, I want to be an encouragement to her, but I cannot do it all. I have a problem with forgetting, and laziness, and business, and schoolwork. Even when it comes to this, I am so very human. I am not able to sustain her. Even though I want to. And so I must trust. I must pray, I must remember that she has a creator, who not only can see her, but knows her deeper, knows what she needs. Even though she seems to be out of my reach for the moment, she is not out of his grip.
I would like to have the power to fix my family. I would like to have the power to keep myself from adding to the pain and the chaos. I would like to make things different but I fear I am only an addition to the problem. Surprisingly enough, this is also and area where I find myself to be human. Small. Limited. Weak. Poor. And so I have to trust. I have to trust that the healing God really is doing is bigger than the ways I fear I may be messing it up. I have to trust that there is grace for me too. There is grace for the fact that I struggle with loving my sister, grace for my own outbrusts, grace for the times when all I know to do are scream, or cry, or just shout, "leave me alone." Grace for the insurmountable number of times when there seems to be just no answer, no way out. I do not want to become the evil that I see happening around me, but it is a fear that I may never find a way to do anything else.
Everything is so confused and tangled, turned around and jabbed into our hearts. Somehow I have to trust that the bitterness, the anger, the pain, the firey darts that I feel heatedly hurled across the dinner table yet one more time yet again and again and again and again and again will somehow not create such a deep hard dark shell that maybe somehow someday someone will be able to break through. It makes me feel like there is something I can do. Something I can say. Something I can stop. Is it really possible that this very same wound has been festoring in my own family line since Adam? Could this be? It does not seem possible. This is why I hate that stupid label. "I grew up in a chirstian home." What in the world does that mean? Its a lie. I don't think there ever is such a thing. Its an excuse. A coverup. A suffocating label that means we don't have to really face what is going on. Sometimes I think maybe I struggle with "traditional Christian churches" so much. They are a label. This is all. We're a "church family." What is family? What does this mean? It seems all the families that I have known have been labels. Claims. We call ourselves a family, so that must mean something. Pysically yes.
And what can I do? I'm failing. Drowning. fighting a rushing current without legs or arms. There are a lot of days when I just want to give up. I am so tired of just submitting, saying the right thing to keep the peace. Giving in to what people want me to do becuase I'm going to feel guilty for it anyway. As my mom says, "If only it were really my fault so that I could do something about it." Trusting that maybe it isn't my fault. Trusting that nothing I could ever do could fix this mess and that's okay.
Needless to say, I am learning firsthand why forgiveness is letting ourselves off the hook.
I guess this is a bit of understanding of what the human struggle really looks like. We've been hinding behind the "christian family" label for so long that we've been able to also numb our awareness and pain of the human struggle as a whole. It was easy to close ourselves off in this little ranch style and think we are the only ones. But there is a whole world out there. Dying. Chopping each other to peices-- one family at a time.
I saw this little girl at the grocery store the other day. She was there with her brother and what I assume to be her parents. Her dad looked like he couldn't be too old, but he looked aged in his eyes. She pointed and begged for a pack of gum as she tripped around her dad's feet. Her mom paid for the groceries and she too looked old and young at the same time. I looked at that little girl dressed nicely in a pink shirt but looking a bit dirtied from the day and this one thought came to my mind: I wonder if she is loved. I mean, really loved. Or could she be continuing this endless cycle where she only feels a little loved and goes searching for it and only finds children of her own who she does not know how to love either. We could go into whether or not I was being judgemental based on appearances, that 30 second encounter I had with the family, but that's not the point. That's the human struggle isn't it? Do you ever look around and just wonder if people have really experienced love?
And trust. That's what I was talking about. I have to trust that there is someone bigger out there, who knows how to love. I don't feel very confident in my ability to love. I'm very near to bankrupt in that area. And yet, somehow this trust comes from love. I really feel like I suck at it.
Saturday, December 24
FInding Christmas in the Pain
But God has made clear his love to us, in that, when we were still sinners, Christ gave his life for us.
I've struggled some this year really finding Christmas the way I have in the past. Maybe its dorm life or business or not being at home, or maybe this discussion of Christmas versus Holidays and how maybe we stole the season by slapping the Christian label on things that we might not have earned the right to. But nevertheless. Its been different this year.
Coming home after being away at school for a while has proven to be a bit of an enlightening experience in terms of observation. Distance seems to create new eyes. As I step back and take a look at my family, how we interact, who we are together, it seems that the pain and the bitterness are so much clearer. Its like you can just see the mud flying across the room with new clarity. I mean, we've all known it was there before, but its strange to sit and the dinner table and find myself reeling, wishing there is some way I could call a time out.
Do you ever find yourself in the midst of something terrible? I mean, do you ever open your eyes, slowly turn around and realize the muck is all around you and no matter how hard you try, there will never be any way for you to clean it all up yourself, hard as you try? And not that I find myself free of guilt by any means, but I just look around and everything just seems beyond hope. How do you love in the midst of all the messed up lives? I find myself on the edge of this hole, the hole I have fallen in too many times. I stand on the edge between love and joining in the desolation.
And as I pictured myself there in the midst of all this trash heap that seems to have become of our wounds piled one upon the other, I think I am beginning to see a little better the healing that Jesus came to bring. This may seem like trite commentary on "what Christmas is all about," but seriously, I'm not sure we can really ever understand what Jesus did to come down here.
Jesus came down to this gutter of a world to stand in the midst of our pain. Its like entering a battle field and choosing to lay down right next to the dead bodies. I don't know if you have ever been in a place in your life where all you can do is look around at all the dead bodies. We haven't gotten a family portrait taken since I was about 6, but I think if we did today, it would look something like a gaggle from a hospital ward. This is the picture I see. And Jesus came down to pose with us.
Can you imagine what it would have been like for him, to wake up as a baby and hear Mary and Joseph fighting? To be carried through the overpacked streets of people arguing over prices, angry about the traffic? Romans 5:8 speaks about Jesus dying for us while we were still sinners, but I like the implications of taking that verse a bit further and thinking about the fact that he came to live with us while we were still sinners. He came and stood amoung the filth, amoung the wounds in order to bring us healing.
Honestly, I fear this may sound like all the other dry, old explanations we hear about Christmas, but there si something deeply meaningful and true when your eyes are open to the same kind of desolation. When I find myself totally beyond hope, beyond words, beyond any beneficial response to the axes I see swining all around me. People who need forgiveness. People who are afraid, people who are holding their wounds, trying to appear that they are holding themselves together, when everyone knows they have already fallen all over the floor. These are the people Jesus came to live among.
I've been struggling lately trying to figure out the rules of the quiet time. ANd it struck me as I poured all this out to God finally this morning, it occured to me that we find God closest when we let him into the real stuff of our lives. I find too often I ignore the stuff that is really bothering me in order to go through the right motions for God, hoping in some formula to still make me feel better. But I realized this morning that I know God's presence in my real life when I allow him in. When the time I spend with him is real and personal, when I really am brave enough to bring before him the things I don'tknow how to deal with, the ways that I have failed and will continue to fail without Him, then I find him living my life. If God cannot be in the most painful parts of my life, he cannot in my life at all.
And that is the thing about this God-Man coming to this earth. He knows. He understands what it is like. He has stood amid my family. He has sat at our dinner table. He has listened to our conversation. And he knows what it is like. He knows what the wounds and pain look like. And he is not afraid to face it. He knows what it is like to feel hopeless and he nows the fear of having to deal with it again, but he holds the key. He stands beside me, he hold my hand. He says, "Come on, lets face it together. I'm here with you. I came to do this with you." Healing is coming.
And so as I've thought about this season, whatever it is really about, whatever the cause, the undenyable thing about it is that it is a time of celebration. Over this past semester, I have been really thinking about how much I want to be a person who leads a life of celebration. No matter the circumstance, my surroundings, want to be someone who lives a celebratory life. And by no means should that be any less poignant in these next few days. Even amid the pain and frustration, the stuff that is hard to deal with, I want to enjoy the signs of life, the small hints of healing that are yet to come. Celebration. Rejoicing that we have not been left alone to face this daunting challenges in life. Thankfullness for my family that teaches me a little more about seeing with God's eyes.
I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas, full of enjoyment of all the ways God show's his goodness and grace in his world, and enjoyment of the people he has placed around you, no matter who they are.
I've struggled some this year really finding Christmas the way I have in the past. Maybe its dorm life or business or not being at home, or maybe this discussion of Christmas versus Holidays and how maybe we stole the season by slapping the Christian label on things that we might not have earned the right to. But nevertheless. Its been different this year.
Coming home after being away at school for a while has proven to be a bit of an enlightening experience in terms of observation. Distance seems to create new eyes. As I step back and take a look at my family, how we interact, who we are together, it seems that the pain and the bitterness are so much clearer. Its like you can just see the mud flying across the room with new clarity. I mean, we've all known it was there before, but its strange to sit and the dinner table and find myself reeling, wishing there is some way I could call a time out.
Do you ever find yourself in the midst of something terrible? I mean, do you ever open your eyes, slowly turn around and realize the muck is all around you and no matter how hard you try, there will never be any way for you to clean it all up yourself, hard as you try? And not that I find myself free of guilt by any means, but I just look around and everything just seems beyond hope. How do you love in the midst of all the messed up lives? I find myself on the edge of this hole, the hole I have fallen in too many times. I stand on the edge between love and joining in the desolation.
And as I pictured myself there in the midst of all this trash heap that seems to have become of our wounds piled one upon the other, I think I am beginning to see a little better the healing that Jesus came to bring. This may seem like trite commentary on "what Christmas is all about," but seriously, I'm not sure we can really ever understand what Jesus did to come down here.
Jesus came down to this gutter of a world to stand in the midst of our pain. Its like entering a battle field and choosing to lay down right next to the dead bodies. I don't know if you have ever been in a place in your life where all you can do is look around at all the dead bodies. We haven't gotten a family portrait taken since I was about 6, but I think if we did today, it would look something like a gaggle from a hospital ward. This is the picture I see. And Jesus came down to pose with us.
Can you imagine what it would have been like for him, to wake up as a baby and hear Mary and Joseph fighting? To be carried through the overpacked streets of people arguing over prices, angry about the traffic? Romans 5:8 speaks about Jesus dying for us while we were still sinners, but I like the implications of taking that verse a bit further and thinking about the fact that he came to live with us while we were still sinners. He came and stood amoung the filth, amoung the wounds in order to bring us healing.
Honestly, I fear this may sound like all the other dry, old explanations we hear about Christmas, but there si something deeply meaningful and true when your eyes are open to the same kind of desolation. When I find myself totally beyond hope, beyond words, beyond any beneficial response to the axes I see swining all around me. People who need forgiveness. People who are afraid, people who are holding their wounds, trying to appear that they are holding themselves together, when everyone knows they have already fallen all over the floor. These are the people Jesus came to live among.
I've been struggling lately trying to figure out the rules of the quiet time. ANd it struck me as I poured all this out to God finally this morning, it occured to me that we find God closest when we let him into the real stuff of our lives. I find too often I ignore the stuff that is really bothering me in order to go through the right motions for God, hoping in some formula to still make me feel better. But I realized this morning that I know God's presence in my real life when I allow him in. When the time I spend with him is real and personal, when I really am brave enough to bring before him the things I don'tknow how to deal with, the ways that I have failed and will continue to fail without Him, then I find him living my life. If God cannot be in the most painful parts of my life, he cannot in my life at all.
And that is the thing about this God-Man coming to this earth. He knows. He understands what it is like. He has stood amid my family. He has sat at our dinner table. He has listened to our conversation. And he knows what it is like. He knows what the wounds and pain look like. And he is not afraid to face it. He knows what it is like to feel hopeless and he nows the fear of having to deal with it again, but he holds the key. He stands beside me, he hold my hand. He says, "Come on, lets face it together. I'm here with you. I came to do this with you." Healing is coming.
And so as I've thought about this season, whatever it is really about, whatever the cause, the undenyable thing about it is that it is a time of celebration. Over this past semester, I have been really thinking about how much I want to be a person who leads a life of celebration. No matter the circumstance, my surroundings, want to be someone who lives a celebratory life. And by no means should that be any less poignant in these next few days. Even amid the pain and frustration, the stuff that is hard to deal with, I want to enjoy the signs of life, the small hints of healing that are yet to come. Celebration. Rejoicing that we have not been left alone to face this daunting challenges in life. Thankfullness for my family that teaches me a little more about seeing with God's eyes.
I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas, full of enjoyment of all the ways God show's his goodness and grace in his world, and enjoyment of the people he has placed around you, no matter who they are.
Thursday, December 22
Wondering what the rules are
So I'm home. Seems like its been so long since I was really home. I mean I was here, in this room last weekend, but i feel like now i'm really home. I have nothing else to do for a long time. No more learning. No more filling my head with stuff. No more work. A bit less people around telling me who I should be and where I should be it. I find myelf exhausted from the pressure. Do you ever feel that way? Like people have been telling you who to be for so long that you are paralyzed when it actually comes to deciding for yourself.
I am frustrated. I don't know what I'm searching for really. Some sort of internal comfort I suppose. Some peace with the fact that I really have a right to begin my break today and not tomorrow. Some peace with the fact that once again i do not know what a proper quiet time looks like-- I feel like I need this God, but I have no idea how to get to him. I don't know how to breathe him in. And so I suffocate myself. Probably missing him as he is. Sitting beside me.
I really just want to leave. I want to go Christmas shopping. I want to get on with my life. Stop thinking so hard about it. I'm exhausted. But ahhh, break is here. Freedom. For the moment.
I am frustrated. I don't know what I'm searching for really. Some sort of internal comfort I suppose. Some peace with the fact that I really have a right to begin my break today and not tomorrow. Some peace with the fact that once again i do not know what a proper quiet time looks like-- I feel like I need this God, but I have no idea how to get to him. I don't know how to breathe him in. And so I suffocate myself. Probably missing him as he is. Sitting beside me.
I really just want to leave. I want to go Christmas shopping. I want to get on with my life. Stop thinking so hard about it. I'm exhausted. But ahhh, break is here. Freedom. For the moment.
Wednesday, December 14
I'm really bored. I have my last two finals tomorrow. I don't want to take the first one. I don't want to study for it. Do you ever feel your pent up aggression boiling over against a test? That's how I feel. I have this sense that I just want to perposly do badly on it just to be vindictive. thats really stupid and pointless and only hurts me, but its true. I'm too tired to think positively. Man I am glad to be done with that stupid pc class.
mostly I think I am just pretty exhasted an I am having a hard time feeling hopeful about the amount of rest I'm going to get during this break. Something about looking forward to two more days of earlier than 8:00 stuff and the same for three more days next week. Ah.. to have time to really feel free from committment. Free from my own decisions. I just want to do nothing. yikes.
mostly I think I am just pretty exhasted an I am having a hard time feeling hopeful about the amount of rest I'm going to get during this break. Something about looking forward to two more days of earlier than 8:00 stuff and the same for three more days next week. Ah.. to have time to really feel free from committment. Free from my own decisions. I just want to do nothing. yikes.
Tuesday, December 13
Breath
I've been thinking a lot about breathing. Everytime I sit dowm to do a wuite time or think about what I need to o to maintain my life, I seem to come up with a blank. Do you ever have those times when you try to do everything.. anything, and nothing seems right. As I sit and contemplate, the one thing that alwasy seems to come and rest up on my hear this this iease of breathing. just take a breath.
Stop striving. Stop working toward impossible, heavy goals. Just relaz. Fall into the arms of grace. Breathe it in. This morning as I was sitting there, thinking about breathing for lack of anythign else to fill my heart, I was reminded in the Old testiment how God was refered to only as YHWH, as Isreal knew that his name was too precious even to be uttered, and this name being the sound of breath.
As this iead struck me personally for maybe the first real time in life, it occured to me how absolutely beautiful this is How God is so unfathomable that he cannot be taken in. Yet-- what a tangible way that we can see what God is to our lives on so many levels. Breath is what gives us life. When you take a deep breath, you have that feeling of security, of fullness, of rightness with your body. It fills you so full. I remember hearing someone once describing how he earth may have been before the flood and how brathing would have been so much easier and how people could walk for miles without getting tired because of the abundance of air that would have been available for breath. the speaker said this one quote that has stuck with me: "It would have been exciting just to breathe!"
One of my favorite songs is one called "Phobic," by Plumb. My favorite line of this song is, "Grace means room to breathe." What a beautiful thought. even when we feel cornered and trapped by the world, the grace of God means room to breathe. Room to breath.
Breathe. Isn't it strange sometimes how When God teaches you things they just seem so... outside of our expectations and understanding? How I am expecting this deep theological lesson from such and such verse from such and such chapter, and all he does is quictly shut the book and whispers in my ear, "Just breath." Realax your shoulders. Sink back into your chair. Sink back into my warm, loving, inviting arms. Grace means... room to breathe.
Saturday, December 10
This week has gone by a lot faster than last week and this coming week will most likely go even faster. But it has been a really great weekend already. No dreading. No having to explain. No having to justify, rationalize to myself. What does the future hold now? I don't know, but thats sort of the beauty isn't it? There really is no limit, no glass ceiling or box I have to fit into.
I don't think I have anything really inspirational to say tonight other than this is the first restful and fun weekend I've had in a very long time. And the strangest part is that so far I've spent most of it studying. Its good to be free. Taking one more deep breath.
Friday, December 9
I've just returned from my last painting class of the semester and I'm just sitting here in my dorm, counting the minutes before I have to get up and go to work in the sunny cold. Its warm in here. I really haven't had anything insightful to say in the past while, but thats okay. I'm sort of in that floating state of exhaustion where the deepest thing I can do is just sit and take a series of deep breaths.
I feel artistic and beautiful. A sleepy state of inspiration. I wish I had some christmas music. It doesn't feel like christmas in the dorms much until you step into a real house. A warm house. A house with a real christmas tree and real stockings and a real state of rest. We do our best here in the dorms, but its not quite the same.
I think this might actually be a nice weekend. One of the first weekends of the semester that may actually serve its purpose. Freedom to be as artistic as I like. Potluck. Small, close people. People who are doing real things. Girls from a hall. gathering. Loving. Laughing. Time to study. Time to enjoy.
Weekend.
I feel artistic and beautiful. A sleepy state of inspiration. I wish I had some christmas music. It doesn't feel like christmas in the dorms much until you step into a real house. A warm house. A house with a real christmas tree and real stockings and a real state of rest. We do our best here in the dorms, but its not quite the same.
I think this might actually be a nice weekend. One of the first weekends of the semester that may actually serve its purpose. Freedom to be as artistic as I like. Potluck. Small, close people. People who are doing real things. Girls from a hall. gathering. Loving. Laughing. Time to study. Time to enjoy.
Weekend.
Thursday, December 8
Waiting for the opportunity to really sleep...
I'm afraid i've found myself overcommitted. I'm tired tonight and I have books and notes and sculptures to study and finish glaring, staring me in the face. I'm tired. And it has just occured to me that I have not taken much time to seek the one who offeres some sort of escape from the heavy burden we often allow ourselves to be placed under. Do you ever find yourself thinking, praying, "I just need a miracle here." It seems this is the story of my life. Finals are coming. Books are piling up and I just need a rest.
This past weekend I experienced the freedom to say no. I feel a bit like a two-year-old who has just learned the word and is reveling in its power. No. I am not only capable, but free to exercise my right to use the word. No. I don't have to justify or explain myself. The answer is no, I can't. I don't want to. I choose not to this time. Sorry. But no. Having that freedom brings immense peace. And Joy.
I'm sure for those of you who are reading all of this, the post probably does not have any cohesion, but its where my life is right now and maybe thats why I am bearing a bit of confusion. But you know, that is okay. There is grace for the chaos. There is grace to get me through the things I already said yes to and for the things I cannot say no to. And there is grace for this room that seems to keep boiling up more mess becuase I just cannot control it. Grace to say, "I have done enough studying for the night and now it is time to stop and breathe and simply enjoy the air that is entering my lungs." Breathe.
This past weekend I experienced the freedom to say no. I feel a bit like a two-year-old who has just learned the word and is reveling in its power. No. I am not only capable, but free to exercise my right to use the word. No. I don't have to justify or explain myself. The answer is no, I can't. I don't want to. I choose not to this time. Sorry. But no. Having that freedom brings immense peace. And Joy.
I'm sure for those of you who are reading all of this, the post probably does not have any cohesion, but its where my life is right now and maybe thats why I am bearing a bit of confusion. But you know, that is okay. There is grace for the chaos. There is grace to get me through the things I already said yes to and for the things I cannot say no to. And there is grace for this room that seems to keep boiling up more mess becuase I just cannot control it. Grace to say, "I have done enough studying for the night and now it is time to stop and breathe and simply enjoy the air that is entering my lungs." Breathe.
Saturday, December 3
Friday, December 2
Cannot say no becuase I cannot say yes.
This has been a bit of a week. Even though I've only been back at school for a week, it seems like its been a month. The confusion of life seems to have fallen upon me once again. I'm tired. I'm confused and I feel heavy tonight. I feel dishonest, but unsure what to say. Dishonest with myself in some way.
I hate that I have come to hate the weekend. I hate to admit it. But is the truth. I feel the weight of all that I have failed at. I feel the weight of my own need to justify to myself why I feel the way I do. I don't feel free. I don't feel rested. I feel like I don't know how to listen, that I am just seeking my own fleshly desires. I feel caught and yet still hanging in the balance somewhere. Like there is someone I am supposed to please, and yet I can't figure out how to just feel at peace myself. I want to run away on the weekends. I want to run to a peaceful place where I don't feel the need to be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the tension I feel inside of me to snap. I hate the weekend after weekend why I ask,"What is this is me?"
I'm looking, searching for a destination. A place to call home. I place with no strings attached. no questions. Grace. I'm looking for this home inside myself. To stop roaming, to stop feeling like my roaming is a betrayal. To stop feeling like I'm just passing through... alone. I need people to journey with-- but something sharp and hard and suffocating is stopping me from it. This floating pain.
I am tired tonight. I am worried about where I am going to get the strength for tomorrow. I am worried about all the things in my life attached to this which I cannot say no to and yet also cannot say yes to either. Caught between yes and no. I feel like a betrayer. the pit in the middle of your center--- ANXIETY. Fear that I may not be all that I need to be-- fear that I am completely and utterly unable to come up with the ability to provide for myself the deepest longings. The inability to let up on my own heart. The pressure from my own hand upon my own heart.
This rule that I find myself unable to keep--unable to break. This immense place in need of grace. I need grace in my decision-making process. I need grace in my time-wasting, my insanity. My discontent. What if I really say no? What if I just say, I'm waiting for something else that I can only hang onto by a thread of faith. Nothing is perfect. I know this. But what is this thing that my heart refuses to let go of? Why is the grip so tight, so self-suffocating? Is there still grace for the ways we seem to even screw ourselves up?
I hate that I have come to hate the weekend. I hate to admit it. But is the truth. I feel the weight of all that I have failed at. I feel the weight of my own need to justify to myself why I feel the way I do. I don't feel free. I don't feel rested. I feel like I don't know how to listen, that I am just seeking my own fleshly desires. I feel caught and yet still hanging in the balance somewhere. Like there is someone I am supposed to please, and yet I can't figure out how to just feel at peace myself. I want to run away on the weekends. I want to run to a peaceful place where I don't feel the need to be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the tension I feel inside of me to snap. I hate the weekend after weekend why I ask,"What is this is me?"
I'm looking, searching for a destination. A place to call home. I place with no strings attached. no questions. Grace. I'm looking for this home inside myself. To stop roaming, to stop feeling like my roaming is a betrayal. To stop feeling like I'm just passing through... alone. I need people to journey with-- but something sharp and hard and suffocating is stopping me from it. This floating pain.
I am tired tonight. I am worried about where I am going to get the strength for tomorrow. I am worried about all the things in my life attached to this which I cannot say no to and yet also cannot say yes to either. Caught between yes and no. I feel like a betrayer. the pit in the middle of your center--- ANXIETY. Fear that I may not be all that I need to be-- fear that I am completely and utterly unable to come up with the ability to provide for myself the deepest longings. The inability to let up on my own heart. The pressure from my own hand upon my own heart.
This rule that I find myself unable to keep--unable to break. This immense place in need of grace. I need grace in my decision-making process. I need grace in my time-wasting, my insanity. My discontent. What if I really say no? What if I just say, I'm waiting for something else that I can only hang onto by a thread of faith. Nothing is perfect. I know this. But what is this thing that my heart refuses to let go of? Why is the grip so tight, so self-suffocating? Is there still grace for the ways we seem to even screw ourselves up?
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