Sometimes I think that the number of tears I have cried since the end of summer must have been enough to water many, many large plants. Almost enough to have grown my own rainforest.
What a strange analogy, you might think. But, not really. You see, growing a rainforest takes years and lots of hydration and is one of the most complex ecosystems in the world. It contains many beautiful, rare, and God created things. The things that have all happened in the past few months have taken time. A girl I knew from college committed suicide. It takes time to get to that point and I know because I have been there. All of a sudden suicide is everywhere - and it took years for those people too. And then there are murders and manslaughters and OD's and crashes. They all had clocks running too. And it took time, not just for them personally, but for all those involved, physically or not. It took time for all our hearts to get to where they were the moment we heard. It took time for God and Satan to plan their moves.
It takes lots of hydration, which comes aplenty with seasons like these; seasons of both an overwhelming need and desire for God's goodness. I can't tell you how many tears I have poured out over the past few months and I am not even close to being among those who should be most affected by the loss of these amazing children. Not only are the tears important for they come out of a place of love, but they also contain nutrients. We think mostly of tears being salt. But the fact that it bears salt and water, among other things I am sure (not a scientist for a reason), is enough to speak to the role of nutrients in our walk with God. Rainforests are complex ecosystems with thousands and millions of components, water and salt included. I don't think it is even kind of a coincidence that our tears contain the ability to nourish other life. It is so incredibly poetic. And metaphorically, our emotional range and existence is just as complex as a rainforest.
As a result, our emotional lives, our rainforests, hold some of our most beautiful and rare moments with God. And they are so vital to being a part of who we are that these moments gain independent life. This life is what supports our ability to have faith, to recall God, to draw near to God, and to remember Him when we don't want to. Every time something bad has happened in the past few weeks, God has done something great. It doesn't mean that Satan stops trying but the memories of God's goodness holds power over my memories of darkness.
So right now, through all of it, the pain, suffering, quiet or loud, shared or alone, I can recognize that God is helping me grow my own rainforest; it will be my own spot with God, shaped, molded, and informed, by my relationship with God.
God, help me to remember the beauty of the rainforest and not the darkness that comes to scare me.
10.31.2012
10.15.2012
Rediscovery
Today was a day of rediscovery.
I rediscovered the poem that I published on this blog once called All in Arms Reach.
And rediscovering that helped me rediscover the fact that I must have felt this way once before. Although, to tell you the truth, I am still not sure I believe it.
Readers, (joke, I know there are none), I have been gone from this blog for over a year. Actually, almost one year and one half exactly. In that time, I came out of a ridiculous amount of depression and let our Creator take over my life again. I joined a prayer ministry and kept juggling all of the hats that were already in my hand. And then, on top of it all, He called me to be in a relationship with a man that I had barely knew. So, scared, I trusted Him, and I fell hard.
And somewhere along the way, Readers, I started taking things for granted. I starting returning to the old me. The old me that loved to view everything as flawed or everything as perfect and me as flawed. In short, I started going through the motions of the relationships I had been in before because I didn't trust this one to be any different. And that was the most foolish thing I could have ever done. It was worse than peeing my pants trying to get to the bus in kindergarten and telling my friend who found me in the hall that it was really runny puke. It was more foolish than me thinking that as a 12 year old, I could successfully run away to California. It was more foolish than me sitting on the arm of a couch for over an hour in the middle of the night playing Red Light, Green Light with a spider that I was trying to trap. It was more foolish than me trying to make everyone my friend in high school by trying to hurt everyone. And those are some very foolish things.
It is much too long and personal a story to share online, Readers. I will spare you that. But I will say that I have spent the last ten months of my life learning how to love. But really - how to really love until the person that you love becomes a part of your view of family. I suppose I have felt this way with friends before. But there is something incredibly beautiful about learning the heart of someone so truly that you can't help but feel that you have always known them. Always known them. Like before-the-creation-of-time "always." And I think, Readers, no - I know that I did some stuff to screw it up. I lost God and myself and him. I just didn't realize it until now. It is really quite an interesting feeling when you finally discover that the relationship that you have been trying to run from is really the one that you would love to spend the rest of your life building.
And the funny part is, I have spent the last ten months of my life trying to avoid talking like that. Because the future is scary. Like really, genuinely, heart-stoppingly scary.
The even funnier part is that I let myself be scared when the God of the universe was really at my side the entire time. So while the past month or so has been one of the hardest of my life - it also hasn't been. As hackneyed as it may sound, God has truly been using me in the past month - to help me and to help others - maybe even to help him. I suppose that is something I might never know.
I laugh because we agreed to stay friends when what we really needed to do was agree to help each other, whatever that may mean. And honestly, Readers, I really feel inadequate to do that. I feel so inadequate because I need so much help to. How do I do this? How do I manage the close of the relationship that I never wanted to end (but knew that it had to, at least temporarily) and not come undone when every small thing anywhere reminds me of him?
I am not sure. If you have an answer, please, let me know. For right now, one step at a time.
Also, today I rediscovered that I love blogging. I love writing down what is in my heart and my head and my soul so that I can go back later and marvel at the things that God has taught me... because, believe me, I forget.
So, stay tuned, Readers. I am sure that I will check in soon.
I rediscovered the poem that I published on this blog once called All in Arms Reach.
And rediscovering that helped me rediscover the fact that I must have felt this way once before. Although, to tell you the truth, I am still not sure I believe it.
Readers, (joke, I know there are none), I have been gone from this blog for over a year. Actually, almost one year and one half exactly. In that time, I came out of a ridiculous amount of depression and let our Creator take over my life again. I joined a prayer ministry and kept juggling all of the hats that were already in my hand. And then, on top of it all, He called me to be in a relationship with a man that I had barely knew. So, scared, I trusted Him, and I fell hard.
And somewhere along the way, Readers, I started taking things for granted. I starting returning to the old me. The old me that loved to view everything as flawed or everything as perfect and me as flawed. In short, I started going through the motions of the relationships I had been in before because I didn't trust this one to be any different. And that was the most foolish thing I could have ever done. It was worse than peeing my pants trying to get to the bus in kindergarten and telling my friend who found me in the hall that it was really runny puke. It was more foolish than me thinking that as a 12 year old, I could successfully run away to California. It was more foolish than me sitting on the arm of a couch for over an hour in the middle of the night playing Red Light, Green Light with a spider that I was trying to trap. It was more foolish than me trying to make everyone my friend in high school by trying to hurt everyone. And those are some very foolish things.
It is much too long and personal a story to share online, Readers. I will spare you that. But I will say that I have spent the last ten months of my life learning how to love. But really - how to really love until the person that you love becomes a part of your view of family. I suppose I have felt this way with friends before. But there is something incredibly beautiful about learning the heart of someone so truly that you can't help but feel that you have always known them. Always known them. Like before-the-creation-of-time "always." And I think, Readers, no - I know that I did some stuff to screw it up. I lost God and myself and him. I just didn't realize it until now. It is really quite an interesting feeling when you finally discover that the relationship that you have been trying to run from is really the one that you would love to spend the rest of your life building.
And the funny part is, I have spent the last ten months of my life trying to avoid talking like that. Because the future is scary. Like really, genuinely, heart-stoppingly scary.
The even funnier part is that I let myself be scared when the God of the universe was really at my side the entire time. So while the past month or so has been one of the hardest of my life - it also hasn't been. As hackneyed as it may sound, God has truly been using me in the past month - to help me and to help others - maybe even to help him. I suppose that is something I might never know.
I laugh because we agreed to stay friends when what we really needed to do was agree to help each other, whatever that may mean. And honestly, Readers, I really feel inadequate to do that. I feel so inadequate because I need so much help to. How do I do this? How do I manage the close of the relationship that I never wanted to end (but knew that it had to, at least temporarily) and not come undone when every small thing anywhere reminds me of him?
I am not sure. If you have an answer, please, let me know. For right now, one step at a time.
Also, today I rediscovered that I love blogging. I love writing down what is in my heart and my head and my soul so that I can go back later and marvel at the things that God has taught me... because, believe me, I forget.
So, stay tuned, Readers. I am sure that I will check in soon.
4.26.2011
4.22.2011
Superiority Complex vs The Love of Christ
Call me crazy, but all these years I have thought that Christ's love and message started with loving the people around you. That doesn't just mean the people next door, or down the street, or at achool and work, or even in your state- it means everywhere. It means the person who cuts you off after a long day of work, it means the grumpy cashier that you try to avoid every time you are at the grocery store, and it most definitely means the people in this world that you never lay eyes on.
Not even as Christians, but as morally compassed human beings, we should know that superioristic attitudes are naive and judgmental and have the potential to cause some serious damage.
So you can imagine my surprise when, after purchasing an Easter Lily from the grocery store today, my grandmother picked up a handout that was functioning as not-so-subtle nationalist propaganda. The message was not simple "pro-America" (which, with proper insight isn't necessarily a bad thing), but also "anti-Japan." Seriously, America? Is this how we celebrate the resurrection of the son of God? We put out pamphlets braggin about the superior quality of American Easter Lillies of Japanese Easter Lillies and then trash their economy because we are "the greatest country in the world"?
And it is when I see things like this, in big cities or small towns, that make me embarassed to call myself a Christian - not because I am ashamed of my God or my beliefs but because I am somtimes ashamed of the people who may follow my God but don't love like my God.
This is not to say that I am always or even most of the time the best example of what it means to be the ultimate lover in Christ - but it baffles me how anybody of any cultural and religious background can read something like that and have the reaction of "Oh, cool, that sounds like something I should want to believe."
One of the biggest reasons why this upset me so much is that upon reading something that seemed so blatantly insensitive and ignorant, I realized that whoever wrote this didn't see the harm they were doing - and I have those moments, too. I have those moments when I call someone a name I shouldn't. I have those moments when I think less of someone because they disagree with me and I refuse to see that I could be WRONG. We all do. I have those moments when I read something offensive and instinctively judge those who wrote and read - and ,maybe the thing I need to realize is that the people that can be close-minded need as much as love as those they try so hard to exclude.
When Christ walked through Jericho, he called to a man named Zaccheus who was up in a tree. He wanted to visit Zaccheus' house. Zaccheus was hated by many people because he was a tax collector but despite the fact that many people who followed and loved Christ hated this man, Jesus extended grace and love towards this man. We are called to love the Zaccheus' of this world - and this can include other Christians. Sometimes, we are Zaccheus - doing what we have to in order to survive, doing something we don't necessarily see as wrong, and still seeking God. Never deny the possibility of love for you or for someone else.
I am Zaccheus.
You are Zaccheus.
We are called to love every Zaccheus - every single person on this planet.
The only one with any power to judge our actions is God, and, thank goodness, none of us are God.
Not even as Christians, but as morally compassed human beings, we should know that superioristic attitudes are naive and judgmental and have the potential to cause some serious damage.
So you can imagine my surprise when, after purchasing an Easter Lily from the grocery store today, my grandmother picked up a handout that was functioning as not-so-subtle nationalist propaganda. The message was not simple "pro-America" (which, with proper insight isn't necessarily a bad thing), but also "anti-Japan." Seriously, America? Is this how we celebrate the resurrection of the son of God? We put out pamphlets braggin about the superior quality of American Easter Lillies of Japanese Easter Lillies and then trash their economy because we are "the greatest country in the world"?
And it is when I see things like this, in big cities or small towns, that make me embarassed to call myself a Christian - not because I am ashamed of my God or my beliefs but because I am somtimes ashamed of the people who may follow my God but don't love like my God.
This is not to say that I am always or even most of the time the best example of what it means to be the ultimate lover in Christ - but it baffles me how anybody of any cultural and religious background can read something like that and have the reaction of "Oh, cool, that sounds like something I should want to believe."
One of the biggest reasons why this upset me so much is that upon reading something that seemed so blatantly insensitive and ignorant, I realized that whoever wrote this didn't see the harm they were doing - and I have those moments, too. I have those moments when I call someone a name I shouldn't. I have those moments when I think less of someone because they disagree with me and I refuse to see that I could be WRONG. We all do. I have those moments when I read something offensive and instinctively judge those who wrote and read - and ,maybe the thing I need to realize is that the people that can be close-minded need as much as love as those they try so hard to exclude.
When Christ walked through Jericho, he called to a man named Zaccheus who was up in a tree. He wanted to visit Zaccheus' house. Zaccheus was hated by many people because he was a tax collector but despite the fact that many people who followed and loved Christ hated this man, Jesus extended grace and love towards this man. We are called to love the Zaccheus' of this world - and this can include other Christians. Sometimes, we are Zaccheus - doing what we have to in order to survive, doing something we don't necessarily see as wrong, and still seeking God. Never deny the possibility of love for you or for someone else.
I am Zaccheus.
You are Zaccheus.
We are called to love every Zaccheus - every single person on this planet.
The only one with any power to judge our actions is God, and, thank goodness, none of us are God.
4.13.2011
My Brain Could Melt
Circles.
Flat, raised, streched, smushed, blurry, tall circles.
So many circles, my brain could melt.
And if I turned off, and let you affect me, and let my brain melt out in front of you,
Would you mop me up?
Would you leave me to dry on the floor and be walked on
until being visible is nearly impossible?
Or would you maybe chance to look into the pool and see you the way I do?
See you -
All glorious and beautiful and lonely and lost and drowning
And standing on top of the world with the biggest smile
and the most broken heart...
See all of you?
But all that matters to you, and to me, and to them are these damn circles.
So many circles, I can hardly count.
Twisted, empty, senseless, shallow, easy, comforting, sickening circles.
So many circles, my brain could melt.
Flat, raised, streched, smushed, blurry, tall circles.
So many circles, my brain could melt.
And if I turned off, and let you affect me, and let my brain melt out in front of you,
Would you mop me up?
Would you leave me to dry on the floor and be walked on
until being visible is nearly impossible?
Or would you maybe chance to look into the pool and see you the way I do?
See you -
All glorious and beautiful and lonely and lost and drowning
And standing on top of the world with the biggest smile
and the most broken heart...
See all of you?
But all that matters to you, and to me, and to them are these damn circles.
So many circles, I can hardly count.
Twisted, empty, senseless, shallow, easy, comforting, sickening circles.
So many circles, my brain could melt.
3.05.2011
Day 51: Valentine's Day Part One
My fantastic roomie left songs on each of our doors that remind her of us... so many questions to be asked, but so much understood truth. Love it. 
2.26.2011
Day 52: Random-osity
Day 52 (2/10/11)
Day 52:
- One surprise song
- One great hug froma great friend
- Another long rehearsal
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