To be a hopeless romantic is a curse and a blessing, often getting mixed up with one another.
To be a hopeless romantic is to never know when you are simply being a girl and when you are being a complete mess (which go hand in hand more often than not).
To be a hopeless romantic means heartbreaks and let down more often than being swept off your feet. It means that you will tangle yourself so tightly into someone's story, into the song that makes them dance, into their life, only to get stuck and constricted.
It means that your joy and your appreciation for the beautiful things so easily get stomped on and you are so quickly left to pick up the pieces of your yet again shattered heart.
But...
To be a hopeless romantic means that all of the knots you tangled yourself into will one day be untied, one by one, forming one thick, strong rope. And at the other end will be someone else who had gotten themselves just as hopelessly constricted in you as you were in them. And just like that, all you will see is them, standing at the end of the rope, and it will all make sense. All the times you tied yourself to someone and got no where were just times that you had tied yourself to the wrong person. You will realize that this time, in your struggle to untie your own knots, you end up untying unfamiliar rope that had found its way into your nest of knots. As you loosen one knot, you feel yourself become looser, calmer, but at the same time, more stable. As you untie their rope, you feel yourself taking another step forward, the straight line pulling you along. As you untie the last knot you look up to see the story you had read over and over again, longing to be a part of it. You hear the song you had played on repeat over and over again, wishing to find someone to make it a duet. You look up to see the life you had hopelessly dreamed about having since you were little... And you realize that those things are incomplete without you in them and they in you.
To be a hopeless romantic is to be constantly cocooning yourself until just the right breeze comes along and cracks your shell wide open.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Wistful Thoughts of a Summer Past
**Written in August, 2014
You make me weak inside. You make me shy. You make me unable to speak when I'm alone with you. You make it so hard to breathe. You make me act like an idiot, more so than I already do. You make me all the things I am not used to being. You make me vulnerable and you break down that strong barrier I put up. You break it down without knowing. You help me break it down because I want to know you. I want to know you for all that you are. I want to know what makes you love music so much. I want to know what melodies play through your head while you're walking past the lake and while you're singing softly to yourself. I want to know why you're so quite. I want to be quite with you. I want to know you.
You are so different and you make me feel so different. I love the way that I have no idea how to act around you.
Yet you have no idea.
You make me weak inside. You make me shy. You make me unable to speak when I'm alone with you. You make it so hard to breathe. You make me act like an idiot, more so than I already do. You make me all the things I am not used to being. You make me vulnerable and you break down that strong barrier I put up. You break it down without knowing. You help me break it down because I want to know you. I want to know you for all that you are. I want to know what makes you love music so much. I want to know what melodies play through your head while you're walking past the lake and while you're singing softly to yourself. I want to know why you're so quite. I want to be quite with you. I want to know you.
You are so different and you make me feel so different. I love the way that I have no idea how to act around you.
Yet you have no idea.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Unseen But Not Undefined
I have never written about field hockey before, which is really strange considering it has been my life for the past 10 years.
I guess until now, I never really had a reason to combine my passion for writing with my passion for field hockey. The bulk of my pivotal field hockey years has been full of tactics, drills, hours upon hours of practices that felt like going to work everyday and harsh words that I thought were the only way I would be motivated. And honestly, who wants to write about that?
It wasn't until this season, my second being a Richmond Spider, that I finally have stories of love and joy AND field hockey to infuse into my writing.
I am completely overwhelmed with joy and humbled by the love that I have been surrounded with these last two seasons. It is incomparable to anything else I have ever been a part of and I'm going to venture out on a limb and say that nothing in the future is going to compare to this experience.
All the sweat, all the tears, all the turf spiders, all the beep tests, all the sweet frog team dates, all the bus rides, all the wins, all the losses... that's what Spider Hockey is.
I love each and every single Spider like a sister and after having been a part of a team where it was mostly just business, I am so thankful. Sure, my high school team was united in our goals, and sure, I know for a fact that a lot of the girls made bonding friendships, but I never quite fit there. But that's okay because I fit here.
My Spiders made me love the feel of a new grip, something I never noticed before.
My Spiders made me love the sound of the ball thwacking that backboard. That sound has new meaning now. It doesn't just mean one more goal in a slew of 10 that we were required to get. It means 1 more mini victory that each of us accomplished together, and that's enough to make my heart swell.
My Spiders made me love sprinting from behind the 50 to get ahead of the ball carrier who was busting her tail as hard as I was (which meant I needed to bust mine more).
My Spiders made me love bus rides. In high school I used to have to fight to stay awake, and I used to shuffle down the aisle in no rush to get to my seat-for-one. Now I shimmy down the aisles (probably doing a stupid dance) to get to my 20 sisters who are inevitably doing goofy things that I can't wait to join in on (like use candy corns as teeth).
My Spiders made me appreciate pillow talk (and experience it for the first time).
My Spiders made me fall in love with field hockey all over again. And not just for the athleticism and the sweat and the thrill of scoring and the feeling of accomplishment when I actually plan out a move around a defender and it WORKS (which is rare)... no, not just for all these things. I have fallen in love with field hockey all over again because now field hockey means family.
Field hockey means character, integrity, incredible work ethic, passion, sacrifice, joy, and most importantly, field hockey means love.
I cannot explain the feeling I get when I step on that turf, wearing my Spider uniform. The whistle is about to blow and I've just come out of our pre-game huddle. High fives have been given, secret handshakes have been executed, and our goalie has pulled her helmet over her face. We are ready for battle. I glance around me and my love for my spiders propels me, my feet itching to break the line. My stomach turns and adrenaline courses through my veins as I survey our opponent. But it doesn't matter who they are... In this moment, it only matters who WE are.
And WE ARE, UR!
I guess until now, I never really had a reason to combine my passion for writing with my passion for field hockey. The bulk of my pivotal field hockey years has been full of tactics, drills, hours upon hours of practices that felt like going to work everyday and harsh words that I thought were the only way I would be motivated. And honestly, who wants to write about that?
It wasn't until this season, my second being a Richmond Spider, that I finally have stories of love and joy AND field hockey to infuse into my writing.
I am completely overwhelmed with joy and humbled by the love that I have been surrounded with these last two seasons. It is incomparable to anything else I have ever been a part of and I'm going to venture out on a limb and say that nothing in the future is going to compare to this experience.
All the sweat, all the tears, all the turf spiders, all the beep tests, all the sweet frog team dates, all the bus rides, all the wins, all the losses... that's what Spider Hockey is.
I love each and every single Spider like a sister and after having been a part of a team where it was mostly just business, I am so thankful. Sure, my high school team was united in our goals, and sure, I know for a fact that a lot of the girls made bonding friendships, but I never quite fit there. But that's okay because I fit here.
My Spiders made me love the feel of a new grip, something I never noticed before.
My Spiders made me love the sound of the ball thwacking that backboard. That sound has new meaning now. It doesn't just mean one more goal in a slew of 10 that we were required to get. It means 1 more mini victory that each of us accomplished together, and that's enough to make my heart swell.
My Spiders made me love sprinting from behind the 50 to get ahead of the ball carrier who was busting her tail as hard as I was (which meant I needed to bust mine more).
My Spiders made me love bus rides. In high school I used to have to fight to stay awake, and I used to shuffle down the aisle in no rush to get to my seat-for-one. Now I shimmy down the aisles (probably doing a stupid dance) to get to my 20 sisters who are inevitably doing goofy things that I can't wait to join in on (like use candy corns as teeth).
My Spiders made me appreciate pillow talk (and experience it for the first time).
My Spiders made me fall in love with field hockey all over again. And not just for the athleticism and the sweat and the thrill of scoring and the feeling of accomplishment when I actually plan out a move around a defender and it WORKS (which is rare)... no, not just for all these things. I have fallen in love with field hockey all over again because now field hockey means family.
Field hockey means character, integrity, incredible work ethic, passion, sacrifice, joy, and most importantly, field hockey means love.
I cannot explain the feeling I get when I step on that turf, wearing my Spider uniform. The whistle is about to blow and I've just come out of our pre-game huddle. High fives have been given, secret handshakes have been executed, and our goalie has pulled her helmet over her face. We are ready for battle. I glance around me and my love for my spiders propels me, my feet itching to break the line. My stomach turns and adrenaline courses through my veins as I survey our opponent. But it doesn't matter who they are... In this moment, it only matters who WE are.
And WE ARE, UR!
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Spoken Poetry- Worth It
"Shutup!"
"You Can't do this"
"You're going to fail"
My mind is in a state of perpetual disruption and wavering permanency.
There's no right or wrong, just life and songs thrown together to form the weird state of being that I am.
I am a chasm, a mountain, a sea, a valley... I am...nothing.
In light of the beauty surrounding, I am nothing
In light of the light from which we garner our light, I am nothing
I'm swishing sideways and under, over and around, never to be found, searching and wandering, upwards and down, my mind is like a tornado, spinning everything I know into nothingness, smashing everyone I know together to form something unrecognizable... and terrifying.
Wishing I could see what it is I am meant to be, but wishing is useless unless I have an infinity of pennies to throw into the well. But I don't and so the open wound that I am ripping open becomes more circular, with no beginning or no end, forming the OH that is placed in my well, drawing the pitiful, yet indifferent, cry out of me, silently screaming, "OH WELL".
When is it that we know we have made it? When does it become apparent that we have finally succeeded? Is it when we finally hold that scroll of paper high and wear a square piece of satin covered cardboard on our head? Is it when we are scrolling through baby names to figure out which name is going to fit our impossibly condensed ball of brilliancy that will be placed into a soft, cotton covered cubicle? Is it when we are sitting in our cubicle, filing away square piece of processed bark after square piece of processed bark that we finally realize we are living our American dream?
When do we know that we are worth it?
Honestly, what do you want me to tell you?
That we are all winners? That we are all going to succeed in the the ways our culture tells us we have to succeed? That everything is going to work out?
Because I really can't tell you that, I wish I could.
But we aren't all winners, some of us haven't won yet and it feels like God is playing a game with our lives and we happen to be the unlucky spin or the unfortunate roll of the dice.
We aren't all going to succeed in the ways our culture tells us we have to succeed and quite frankly, I'm glad. Because there is so much more worth living for than fast cars and fancy houses, so much more than fornicating with floozies and capitulating to the chaos of cash, there's so much more to living! So much more to succeed at, like pursuing the kingdom of Christ... like loving someone even when they don't really know how to love you back, like realizing that you really aren't worth it on your own, but with Christ you are worth more than the entire universe.
Just let that sink in for a second.
With that in mind it's easy to understand that, no, not everything is going to work out as you would like it to and yes, sometimes it's going to feel like you just cannot win no matter how hard to try. I can't tell you that your life is going to be a myriad of rainbows, glitter, sweet flowers, and unicorns.
But what I can tell you is that there is no specific time when you "become" worth it.
You are worth it right now. You are worth dying for. In fact, someone did die for you and not only that, but he paid the price for all the crap you've ever done and all the crap you ever will do.
You are so worth it, that the only perfect man died for you so that you could live this life on Earth with love, joy, mercy, grace, and above all, forgiveness.
So, when do you become "worth it"?
Right now.
"You Can't do this"
"You're going to fail"
My mind is in a state of perpetual disruption and wavering permanency.
There's no right or wrong, just life and songs thrown together to form the weird state of being that I am.
I am a chasm, a mountain, a sea, a valley... I am...nothing.
In light of the beauty surrounding, I am nothing
In light of the light from which we garner our light, I am nothing
I'm swishing sideways and under, over and around, never to be found, searching and wandering, upwards and down, my mind is like a tornado, spinning everything I know into nothingness, smashing everyone I know together to form something unrecognizable... and terrifying.
Wishing I could see what it is I am meant to be, but wishing is useless unless I have an infinity of pennies to throw into the well. But I don't and so the open wound that I am ripping open becomes more circular, with no beginning or no end, forming the OH that is placed in my well, drawing the pitiful, yet indifferent, cry out of me, silently screaming, "OH WELL".
When is it that we know we have made it? When does it become apparent that we have finally succeeded? Is it when we finally hold that scroll of paper high and wear a square piece of satin covered cardboard on our head? Is it when we are scrolling through baby names to figure out which name is going to fit our impossibly condensed ball of brilliancy that will be placed into a soft, cotton covered cubicle? Is it when we are sitting in our cubicle, filing away square piece of processed bark after square piece of processed bark that we finally realize we are living our American dream?
When do we know that we are worth it?
Honestly, what do you want me to tell you?
That we are all winners? That we are all going to succeed in the the ways our culture tells us we have to succeed? That everything is going to work out?
Because I really can't tell you that, I wish I could.
But we aren't all winners, some of us haven't won yet and it feels like God is playing a game with our lives and we happen to be the unlucky spin or the unfortunate roll of the dice.
We aren't all going to succeed in the ways our culture tells us we have to succeed and quite frankly, I'm glad. Because there is so much more worth living for than fast cars and fancy houses, so much more than fornicating with floozies and capitulating to the chaos of cash, there's so much more to living! So much more to succeed at, like pursuing the kingdom of Christ... like loving someone even when they don't really know how to love you back, like realizing that you really aren't worth it on your own, but with Christ you are worth more than the entire universe.
Just let that sink in for a second.
With that in mind it's easy to understand that, no, not everything is going to work out as you would like it to and yes, sometimes it's going to feel like you just cannot win no matter how hard to try. I can't tell you that your life is going to be a myriad of rainbows, glitter, sweet flowers, and unicorns.
But what I can tell you is that there is no specific time when you "become" worth it.
You are worth it right now. You are worth dying for. In fact, someone did die for you and not only that, but he paid the price for all the crap you've ever done and all the crap you ever will do.
You are so worth it, that the only perfect man died for you so that you could live this life on Earth with love, joy, mercy, grace, and above all, forgiveness.
So, when do you become "worth it"?
Right now.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Dusty Wooden Heart
I have convinced myself that I have to have everything together before I can be an example of Christ and His love. I've let myself believe that unless I have all the big things under control, the little things are permissible and not really a big deal anyway.
Well now I feel as though I am failing the big things too, and all I want to do is hide away and let myself whither away.
A wash of pure grace has cascaded over me like a white curtain, brushing away the dust on the floor of my wooden heart.
And I know that it's going to be alright.
Well now I feel as though I am failing the big things too, and all I want to do is hide away and let myself whither away.
A wash of pure grace has cascaded over me like a white curtain, brushing away the dust on the floor of my wooden heart.
And I know that it's going to be alright.
Content and Ready
I feel alone but that's not really a bad thing anymore.
I feel on my own.
Crap. I'm actually an adult.
When did this happen?
I have thoughts and ideas and opinions and emotions completely independent of my parents and friends and I'm okay with that. I'm feeling different and strange and excited. Sort of like a baby chick that has just hatched. Wobbly, wet, a little scared, but mostly excited and filled with wide-eyed wonder at the world around her.
I am my own person.
I have my own, wonderful, sweet, beautiful relationship with the CREATOR of the UNIVERSE... the Creator of me.
I have so much to live for, so much to be thankful for, so much light inside to let burst forth and put Jesus in the spotlight!
In the wise, thought-provoking words of Sara Groves ,"I'm strangely ready for what comes next". I'm a bit apprehensive, but at the same time fully ready to dive off the Cliffs of Insanity head first, ready for Christ to catch me and blow me onto whichever path he wants for me.
The deep blue of the sky today left me breathless, sitting on the stone benches by the silver, green lake. The ripples fluttered by, the ducks waddled by my feet into them, and bicycle wheels whizzed behind me.
And I was content...
Just the perfect state of being for God to whirl right in and throw in a beautiful curve ball, drawing me ever closer to him.
I feel on my own.
Crap. I'm actually an adult.
When did this happen?
I have thoughts and ideas and opinions and emotions completely independent of my parents and friends and I'm okay with that. I'm feeling different and strange and excited. Sort of like a baby chick that has just hatched. Wobbly, wet, a little scared, but mostly excited and filled with wide-eyed wonder at the world around her.
I am my own person.
I have my own, wonderful, sweet, beautiful relationship with the CREATOR of the UNIVERSE... the Creator of me.
I have so much to live for, so much to be thankful for, so much light inside to let burst forth and put Jesus in the spotlight!
In the wise, thought-provoking words of Sara Groves ,"I'm strangely ready for what comes next". I'm a bit apprehensive, but at the same time fully ready to dive off the Cliffs of Insanity head first, ready for Christ to catch me and blow me onto whichever path he wants for me.
The deep blue of the sky today left me breathless, sitting on the stone benches by the silver, green lake. The ripples fluttered by, the ducks waddled by my feet into them, and bicycle wheels whizzed behind me.
And I was content...
Just the perfect state of being for God to whirl right in and throw in a beautiful curve ball, drawing me ever closer to him.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Dear Future Husband: Get Ready for the Ride of Your Life
Dear Future Husband,
First of all, I love you.
Second of all, there are a few things you need to know about me.
I am not going to always do everything the way you like it, and that's not on purpose. I will never do something you hate knowingly or out of spite (sometimes I might, and that will be wrong, and I am sorry), but those things will happen. I don't understand everything that goes on in your mind, but I want to and I will try to, and I won't stop trying until my last breath leaves my lungs.
I want you to know that you will have all of me. Unconditionally. Or as unconditionally as my conditional, human heart can allow.
Thank you for loving our Savior. Thank you for showing me who He is everyday and for leading me closer to Him. It's because of this that I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
I am praying for you, although sometimes I get so caught up in the ways of the world that I forget that you actually exist. I'm sorry for that. I hope that you are praying for me, too.
I can't wait to spend hours with you doing nothing and seconds with you doing everything under the sun. I can't wait to pick out our first house and get a dog and have kids and live happily ever after in our broken, sometimes-terrifying, life together. I can't wait to watch you teach our kids how to love their mother. I can't wait to cook your favorite meal and have it all ready for you when you get home from work (although my plans will most likely be thwarted by my carelessness in forgetting to take the roast out of the oven or leaving salt out entirely).
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I need you to know that I am not perfect. I am struggling now. I have flaws that I will need to tell you all about and that will be hard for me to express to you. I am really scared of that actually. Please forgive me for the things I have done and the things I am struggling with even now, before I know who you truly are. Please have enough love and mercy to take me in your arms after I pour all of my secrets and lies and failures onto you to gently tell me you still love me and that that will never change.
I know that you have failed as well. And I know that you will continue to fail, sometimes even at the same things, over and over again. I still love you, and I always will. Now, I'm not just going to let it all slide, either. I wouldn't be doing my job as your wife if I did not gently nudge you towards righteousness and dignity; towards integrity and purity. I will do everything in my power to continuously remind you of who you are: a strong, courageous son of our incredible Creator.
You will never know how much I want to make you happy; how much I want to give you everything a man could desire in a wife and mother of his children. I am not mature enough to do that yet, but I will be, and when I am, you can bet that I won't hold anything back. My love for you will be unbreakable, because it will be rooted in Christ. My love for you will be unshakable, because Christ is unshakable and, with you as my leader, I will stay unshaken from Him.
So, my love, wherever you are right now, whatever you are doing; whatever language you speak, whatever color your hair is (at the moment); whatever you have failed at (over and over again), and whatever flaws you may develop in our future together, know this: I forgive you, I love you, and I can't wait to meet you.
With all of my heart,
Your Future Wife
First of all, I love you.
Second of all, there are a few things you need to know about me.
I am not going to always do everything the way you like it, and that's not on purpose. I will never do something you hate knowingly or out of spite (sometimes I might, and that will be wrong, and I am sorry), but those things will happen. I don't understand everything that goes on in your mind, but I want to and I will try to, and I won't stop trying until my last breath leaves my lungs.
I want you to know that you will have all of me. Unconditionally. Or as unconditionally as my conditional, human heart can allow.
Thank you for loving our Savior. Thank you for showing me who He is everyday and for leading me closer to Him. It's because of this that I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
I am praying for you, although sometimes I get so caught up in the ways of the world that I forget that you actually exist. I'm sorry for that. I hope that you are praying for me, too.
I can't wait to spend hours with you doing nothing and seconds with you doing everything under the sun. I can't wait to pick out our first house and get a dog and have kids and live happily ever after in our broken, sometimes-terrifying, life together. I can't wait to watch you teach our kids how to love their mother. I can't wait to cook your favorite meal and have it all ready for you when you get home from work (although my plans will most likely be thwarted by my carelessness in forgetting to take the roast out of the oven or leaving salt out entirely).
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I need you to know that I am not perfect. I am struggling now. I have flaws that I will need to tell you all about and that will be hard for me to express to you. I am really scared of that actually. Please forgive me for the things I have done and the things I am struggling with even now, before I know who you truly are. Please have enough love and mercy to take me in your arms after I pour all of my secrets and lies and failures onto you to gently tell me you still love me and that that will never change.
I know that you have failed as well. And I know that you will continue to fail, sometimes even at the same things, over and over again. I still love you, and I always will. Now, I'm not just going to let it all slide, either. I wouldn't be doing my job as your wife if I did not gently nudge you towards righteousness and dignity; towards integrity and purity. I will do everything in my power to continuously remind you of who you are: a strong, courageous son of our incredible Creator.
You will never know how much I want to make you happy; how much I want to give you everything a man could desire in a wife and mother of his children. I am not mature enough to do that yet, but I will be, and when I am, you can bet that I won't hold anything back. My love for you will be unbreakable, because it will be rooted in Christ. My love for you will be unshakable, because Christ is unshakable and, with you as my leader, I will stay unshaken from Him.
So, my love, wherever you are right now, whatever you are doing; whatever language you speak, whatever color your hair is (at the moment); whatever you have failed at (over and over again), and whatever flaws you may develop in our future together, know this: I forgive you, I love you, and I can't wait to meet you.
With all of my heart,
Your Future Wife
Monday, September 22, 2014
There is no such thing as inner-born beauty.
There's something so magical about breathing in your surroundings. To know that the air you breathe in is a little piece of God's creation is strange. It's strange because we aren't used to all that beauty being sucked in with one 3 inch rise of our rib cage. We aren't used to that beauty starting from within. We don't get that privilege. The beauty within us had to be put there. So every breath we take is a miracle itself, if we allow it to be.
Understanding that good is not born from the pits of our stomachs or the nooks of our brains, and not from the shallow depths of our hearts or the pitiful heights of our spirits is vital to understanding our purpose, our mission, our lives. The good within us is placed in the pits of our stomachs. It is squeezed into the crannies of our minds. It is buried into the depths of our hearts. It is lifted up to the heights of our spirits. The good within us is indeed within us... But it was not born there.
Understanding that good is not born from the pits of our stomachs or the nooks of our brains, and not from the shallow depths of our hearts or the pitiful heights of our spirits is vital to understanding our purpose, our mission, our lives. The good within us is placed in the pits of our stomachs. It is squeezed into the crannies of our minds. It is buried into the depths of our hearts. It is lifted up to the heights of our spirits. The good within us is indeed within us... But it was not born there.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Hiding, Sleeping, Wishing, Waiting.
Hiding in the shadows, half there and half here
Hiding in the shadows, half courage and half fear.
Waiting in the silence, for what? I do not know.
Waiting in the silence, though silence hurts me so.
Forever I am haunted, by things that are unseen
Forever I am haunted, from all around and in between.
Sleeping in the stillness, hoping to awake
Sleeping in the stillness, paralyzed at the stake.
Drifting in the current, towards cloudy nothingness
Drifting in the current, oh what a muddled mess.
Seeking for an answer, but none quite fit the problem
Seeking for an answer, or someone who can solve them.
Wishing I could tell you, how my brain explodes
Wishing I could tell you, how my heart implodes
Betting on a promise, that was never made
Betting on a promise, hoping it won't fade.
Finishing my journey, beside the turquoise sea
Finishing my journey, into eternity.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Never Will He Leave, Never Will He Forsake
This summer has been full of swirls...
of blue, foaming hills dusted with sand and green, frothy mounds cascading upon my toes.
Back and forth they came and went, ever faithful, ever present.
This summer has been full of light...
of hot, steaming beams shooting down to earth and soft, gentle whispers of heat tickling my neck awakening new freckle after new freckle.
But this summer has been full of spirals...
of crippling despair and heartbreaking loneliness; of bad habits and desperation, lacking motivation.
And this summer has bee full of darkness...
of no sense of direction when the way had seemed so clear and no way to see the next step.
This summer has been so different.
I long for a sweet caress and a gentle kiss...
for a sweet nuzzle and a quiet whisper;
for strong arms to hold me tight when the spirals plummet further into the darkness;
to be loved and wanted.
That's what I long for, what every girl longs for.
It comforts me to know that I cannot keep God out of my writing.
No matter what I do, my mind comes back to Him, no matter how far it wanders. If only I could stop it from wandering, and wandering dangerously at that.
It comforts me to know that my God always pushed His way back into my life because he WANTS to be there ven after I show him repeatedly the things I have chose over him subconsciously and, yes, eve consciously. It is so terribly humbling when one is brought to that realization and with that realization, their knees to the floor.
My God, you are so merciful, it is beyond anything I could even attempt to describe, being the scribbling savant that I am. You are pure, you are good, you are raw, and you are so real!
As I drift off tonight, I am thankful that you give me the bliss of sleep and I am even more thankful that you choose to wake me up each and every morning. I love you, oh my God, and you have all of me.
of blue, foaming hills dusted with sand and green, frothy mounds cascading upon my toes.
Back and forth they came and went, ever faithful, ever present.
This summer has been full of light...
of hot, steaming beams shooting down to earth and soft, gentle whispers of heat tickling my neck awakening new freckle after new freckle.
But this summer has been full of spirals...
of crippling despair and heartbreaking loneliness; of bad habits and desperation, lacking motivation.
And this summer has bee full of darkness...
of no sense of direction when the way had seemed so clear and no way to see the next step.
This summer has been so different.
I long for a sweet caress and a gentle kiss...
for a sweet nuzzle and a quiet whisper;
for strong arms to hold me tight when the spirals plummet further into the darkness;
to be loved and wanted.
That's what I long for, what every girl longs for.
It comforts me to know that I cannot keep God out of my writing.
No matter what I do, my mind comes back to Him, no matter how far it wanders. If only I could stop it from wandering, and wandering dangerously at that.
It comforts me to know that my God always pushed His way back into my life because he WANTS to be there ven after I show him repeatedly the things I have chose over him subconsciously and, yes, eve consciously. It is so terribly humbling when one is brought to that realization and with that realization, their knees to the floor.
My God, you are so merciful, it is beyond anything I could even attempt to describe, being the scribbling savant that I am. You are pure, you are good, you are raw, and you are so real!
As I drift off tonight, I am thankful that you give me the bliss of sleep and I am even more thankful that you choose to wake me up each and every morning. I love you, oh my God, and you have all of me.
Monday, May 12, 2014
I mean my mom is pretty great and all but....
It seems so cliche to write about how great my mom is on Mother's Day. Every child thinks that their mom is the best mom, if they have been lucky enough to have a good relationship with their mother as I know many children unfortunately are not so. Don't get me wrong, my mom is great, she truly is. But on this Mother's day, I want to tell you how I have watched her struggle and grow and mature even more in Christ.
Last Mother's Day we were 2 months moved in to our new house at the Church and from our old house I uprooted an old lilac plant that had been transferred to three different houses by this time. My mom had had these lilacs at every home she had lived in and I knew this home could be no different. The lilacs were weak and fragile and I was very anxious they would not take to the new soil, especially since they had been uprooted multiple times before. We did everything we could to plant them deep in rich soil and support them with stakes so they would be able to grow strong and full with time and nourishment. Little did I know that this little lilac shoot would become a symbol for my Mother's growth throughout the year.
June rolled around which brought my High School Graduation and my 18th birthday...all in the same week. Honestly, I don't know how my mom kept it together as well as she did! With the help of my Grandma and my Dad, she planned a magnificent graduation/birthday party for me with all my friends and family and pie galore (if you know me you know I'll take pie over cake any day)! The whole day was perfect and none of it would have been possible without her slaving over the correct number of mint leaves to put in the centerpieces or staying up for hours on end baking pies and cookies. Thank you for that, Mom.
As the Summer progressed, August 11 drew nearer and nearer and with every passing day I could see the sadness my mom was trying to hold back. August 11. The day I move in to college. While I was busy squeezing every last drop out of my last summer before college, my mom was busy trying desperately to spend as much time with me as possible. As you can imagine, this lead to a few misunderstandings and harsh words. I specifically remember one night when I was being particularly ungrateful and sassy and I mentioned how much I could not wait to leave this annoying house and just get away. Those words hurt my mom more than I knew and I didn't realize it until she came to me with tears in her eyes and explained how much she was struggling with letting me go and how much it hurt her to hear that I seemingly didn't care at the time. I'll never forget how absolutely terrible I felt in that moment. I wanted to just melt into the wall and pretend it never happened. For that, I am sorry, Mom.
Not only did she forgive me, but she showed me mercy. At a time when I should have had to pay the consequences for the words I carelessly spoke, all my mom wanted was an apology and a hug (well the hug was more so for me). I was just at a Mother-Daughter Brunch at my Church and the speaker talked about showing your children mercy. It really hit me how merciful my mom (and my dad) have been to me. For that, I thank you, Mom.
When the dreaded day finally rolled around, we were all so wrapped up in the excitement and anxiety of it all that none of us really had time to acknowledge that fact that I wouldn't be home for three whole months and that after my parents left, our relationship would never really be the same. And we all knew that was a good thing. I had already left the nest and know it was time to spread my wings and jump off of the branch. We finally got down to unpacking the last suitcase, putting the last pillow on my bed, and putting the last shoe in my shoe rack and it was time to part ways. There were very minimal tears... at that moment. My mom was strong, yet honest with her words in telling me how much she was going to miss me. It wasn't until later that I found out she cried all the way home. And that isn't a shameful thing at all, that showed me how much she loves me and how much it didn't matter the number of times we fought, she was going to miss her baby girl. For your ability to stay strong when I needed you to be, I thank you, Mom.
The next three months were incredibly long in some areas and freakishly fast in others. I was learning how to juggle being a D1 athlete and a student at a rigorous university and my mom was dealing with my brother going back to public school after having been home-schooled for 3 years. From my end, things back at home seemed to be going fairly well. I knew that my brother was struggling a little bit with school and getting used to me being gone and yadda, yadda, yadda. But for the most part I was under the impression that everyone was doing well. What I didn't know was that my brother was struggling much more than I knew and that my mom was having to take the brunt of his backlash. I never learned how bad it was (and it sounds more terrible than it was, especially considering how much better he is doing now) until I got home in November and it couldn't really be hidden anymore. That whole time my mom knew that I needed to be able to focus on school and hockey and she kept all of that to a minimum. Of course I would have liked to have known everything that was going on, but that might not have been the best for me at the time, with all the other stress I was already dealing with. And my mom knew that. For that sacrifice, I thank you, Mom.
I went back to school after Thanksgiving for finals and when I came back for Winter break, all hell broke loose. I came back a day early to surprise my family only to be there when my mom got a call from the doctor telling her that she has degenerative disk disease in most of her spine. My grandma and I were the only ones home with my mom at the time and as my mom sat at the table and cried out of fear of the unknown, we simply sat and cried with her. As I watched my mom try to wrap her head around the idea of her life, all of our lives, having to completely change because of this disease, I couldn't help but feel her pain, her fear, her guilt (even though it wasn't her fault in the slightest.) She was terrified that this disease was going to make her a burden on her family. In the face of this life-changing disease she was scared that she would be a burden to us. One does not truly understand a mother's sacrifice until they experience their own well-being and comfort being put before their mothers when she has every right to focus on getting herself better. I can't tell you how much that impacted me, Mom. Your vulnerability and weakness in that moment proved to be a light and a strength for me in future events I was not prepared for.
During that same winter break, I ended up breaking up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years. It was undoubtedly the absolute hardest thing I have ever had to do. It was something only God knew that reason for but something I knew I had to do. God had to lay what felt like a million bricks on my chest to finally get me to stop ignoring his gentle voice in my mind telling me that this was right and that I didn't need a reason other than "Because I said so". And I mean, it's one thing when your parents give you that answer, but when the Lord Almighty kindly whispers that to you after multiple times of you ignoring him, it's a whole different story! I have never been so depressed and heartbroken in all my 18 years and my mom was right there beside me the entire time. She had gently encouraged me to do what I knew God was telling me to do and she was there to let me cry in silence with her on the couch after it all happened. She consoled me with stories of being in the same situation and encourage me by telling me that God always has a plan and that they are always better than we can imagine. She gave me my space even when I'm sure she wanted to know how I was doing, and she let me talk when I needed to talk. Most of all, she told me how proud of me she was for having stepped out in complete blind faith and trusting God with everything I had when it felt so wrong. I know now why I had to go through with it all, but at the time I didn't, and my mom was there to ensure me that even if I never found out, that I would be alright. I cannot express to you how much it meant to have another woman there beside me as I had to rip someone I loved out of their spot which I thought for a time was going to be permanent. Thank you so much, Mom.
I went back to school after that break with a very broken heart and an exhausted mind, not to mention perpetual eye puffiness. I took a deep breath and tried to move on with my life. My mom on the other hand, had to begin to completely rearrange hers and it killed me that I couldn't be there with her as she went through all the many changes she was to face. I was left in awe at her strength in dealing with the multiple doctors appointments and MRIs and biopsies and, unfortunately, spinal taps (yes, plural). And I know she hates when people put her on a pedestal and I'm not trying to do that. I know how scared she was and I know how much she just wanted all the testing to be over. I know how much she questioned why God put this in her life. But I also know how strong her faith grew as she went through this time of ambiguity. To this day, as she can never fully say how each day is going to fare, she is still a light and an example of strength and faith. Thank you for that, Mom.
Shortly before my mom was diagnosed, she landed herself a job working in a small decorating shop. It wasn't a high paying job or a huge career break, but to my mom and to our family, it was a massive, encouraging step! This job is not only flexible with my mom, but she enjoys it! She thrives while working there, in spite of all of the things she has had to deal with. After finding out about her diagnosis, she thought for sure she would be let go. But to the contrary, her boss compassionately gave her a month off to recover and figure everything out and let her come back as she felt she could. God could not have placed a more appropriate, kind group of people around my mom during this time.
This past Saturday my mom, grandma, and I got the chance to sing at the Mother-Daughter Brunch at our church and it was fabulous! On the all the tables were mason jars filled with beautiful lilacs. My mom drank them all in and I knew she loved having them on the table. As we were clearing up the brunch, the women who were in charge told us to take some of the centerpieces home with us. We all got talking and my mom mentioned the lilac bush that I brought from our old house last Mother's Day. I had completely forgotten about it and was so happy to hear that it took to the new soil and is blooming and thriving on its own. My mom has done just the same. She was uprooted from a home she loved, a home with its own personality and replanted in new soil with harsh weather coming from all angles, and she came out in full bloom, looking more radiant than ever!
I love you, Mom!
Last Mother's Day we were 2 months moved in to our new house at the Church and from our old house I uprooted an old lilac plant that had been transferred to three different houses by this time. My mom had had these lilacs at every home she had lived in and I knew this home could be no different. The lilacs were weak and fragile and I was very anxious they would not take to the new soil, especially since they had been uprooted multiple times before. We did everything we could to plant them deep in rich soil and support them with stakes so they would be able to grow strong and full with time and nourishment. Little did I know that this little lilac shoot would become a symbol for my Mother's growth throughout the year.
June rolled around which brought my High School Graduation and my 18th birthday...all in the same week. Honestly, I don't know how my mom kept it together as well as she did! With the help of my Grandma and my Dad, she planned a magnificent graduation/birthday party for me with all my friends and family and pie galore (if you know me you know I'll take pie over cake any day)! The whole day was perfect and none of it would have been possible without her slaving over the correct number of mint leaves to put in the centerpieces or staying up for hours on end baking pies and cookies. Thank you for that, Mom.
As the Summer progressed, August 11 drew nearer and nearer and with every passing day I could see the sadness my mom was trying to hold back. August 11. The day I move in to college. While I was busy squeezing every last drop out of my last summer before college, my mom was busy trying desperately to spend as much time with me as possible. As you can imagine, this lead to a few misunderstandings and harsh words. I specifically remember one night when I was being particularly ungrateful and sassy and I mentioned how much I could not wait to leave this annoying house and just get away. Those words hurt my mom more than I knew and I didn't realize it until she came to me with tears in her eyes and explained how much she was struggling with letting me go and how much it hurt her to hear that I seemingly didn't care at the time. I'll never forget how absolutely terrible I felt in that moment. I wanted to just melt into the wall and pretend it never happened. For that, I am sorry, Mom.
Not only did she forgive me, but she showed me mercy. At a time when I should have had to pay the consequences for the words I carelessly spoke, all my mom wanted was an apology and a hug (well the hug was more so for me). I was just at a Mother-Daughter Brunch at my Church and the speaker talked about showing your children mercy. It really hit me how merciful my mom (and my dad) have been to me. For that, I thank you, Mom.
When the dreaded day finally rolled around, we were all so wrapped up in the excitement and anxiety of it all that none of us really had time to acknowledge that fact that I wouldn't be home for three whole months and that after my parents left, our relationship would never really be the same. And we all knew that was a good thing. I had already left the nest and know it was time to spread my wings and jump off of the branch. We finally got down to unpacking the last suitcase, putting the last pillow on my bed, and putting the last shoe in my shoe rack and it was time to part ways. There were very minimal tears... at that moment. My mom was strong, yet honest with her words in telling me how much she was going to miss me. It wasn't until later that I found out she cried all the way home. And that isn't a shameful thing at all, that showed me how much she loves me and how much it didn't matter the number of times we fought, she was going to miss her baby girl. For your ability to stay strong when I needed you to be, I thank you, Mom.
The next three months were incredibly long in some areas and freakishly fast in others. I was learning how to juggle being a D1 athlete and a student at a rigorous university and my mom was dealing with my brother going back to public school after having been home-schooled for 3 years. From my end, things back at home seemed to be going fairly well. I knew that my brother was struggling a little bit with school and getting used to me being gone and yadda, yadda, yadda. But for the most part I was under the impression that everyone was doing well. What I didn't know was that my brother was struggling much more than I knew and that my mom was having to take the brunt of his backlash. I never learned how bad it was (and it sounds more terrible than it was, especially considering how much better he is doing now) until I got home in November and it couldn't really be hidden anymore. That whole time my mom knew that I needed to be able to focus on school and hockey and she kept all of that to a minimum. Of course I would have liked to have known everything that was going on, but that might not have been the best for me at the time, with all the other stress I was already dealing with. And my mom knew that. For that sacrifice, I thank you, Mom.
I went back to school after Thanksgiving for finals and when I came back for Winter break, all hell broke loose. I came back a day early to surprise my family only to be there when my mom got a call from the doctor telling her that she has degenerative disk disease in most of her spine. My grandma and I were the only ones home with my mom at the time and as my mom sat at the table and cried out of fear of the unknown, we simply sat and cried with her. As I watched my mom try to wrap her head around the idea of her life, all of our lives, having to completely change because of this disease, I couldn't help but feel her pain, her fear, her guilt (even though it wasn't her fault in the slightest.) She was terrified that this disease was going to make her a burden on her family. In the face of this life-changing disease she was scared that she would be a burden to us. One does not truly understand a mother's sacrifice until they experience their own well-being and comfort being put before their mothers when she has every right to focus on getting herself better. I can't tell you how much that impacted me, Mom. Your vulnerability and weakness in that moment proved to be a light and a strength for me in future events I was not prepared for.
During that same winter break, I ended up breaking up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years. It was undoubtedly the absolute hardest thing I have ever had to do. It was something only God knew that reason for but something I knew I had to do. God had to lay what felt like a million bricks on my chest to finally get me to stop ignoring his gentle voice in my mind telling me that this was right and that I didn't need a reason other than "Because I said so". And I mean, it's one thing when your parents give you that answer, but when the Lord Almighty kindly whispers that to you after multiple times of you ignoring him, it's a whole different story! I have never been so depressed and heartbroken in all my 18 years and my mom was right there beside me the entire time. She had gently encouraged me to do what I knew God was telling me to do and she was there to let me cry in silence with her on the couch after it all happened. She consoled me with stories of being in the same situation and encourage me by telling me that God always has a plan and that they are always better than we can imagine. She gave me my space even when I'm sure she wanted to know how I was doing, and she let me talk when I needed to talk. Most of all, she told me how proud of me she was for having stepped out in complete blind faith and trusting God with everything I had when it felt so wrong. I know now why I had to go through with it all, but at the time I didn't, and my mom was there to ensure me that even if I never found out, that I would be alright. I cannot express to you how much it meant to have another woman there beside me as I had to rip someone I loved out of their spot which I thought for a time was going to be permanent. Thank you so much, Mom.
I went back to school after that break with a very broken heart and an exhausted mind, not to mention perpetual eye puffiness. I took a deep breath and tried to move on with my life. My mom on the other hand, had to begin to completely rearrange hers and it killed me that I couldn't be there with her as she went through all the many changes she was to face. I was left in awe at her strength in dealing with the multiple doctors appointments and MRIs and biopsies and, unfortunately, spinal taps (yes, plural). And I know she hates when people put her on a pedestal and I'm not trying to do that. I know how scared she was and I know how much she just wanted all the testing to be over. I know how much she questioned why God put this in her life. But I also know how strong her faith grew as she went through this time of ambiguity. To this day, as she can never fully say how each day is going to fare, she is still a light and an example of strength and faith. Thank you for that, Mom.
Shortly before my mom was diagnosed, she landed herself a job working in a small decorating shop. It wasn't a high paying job or a huge career break, but to my mom and to our family, it was a massive, encouraging step! This job is not only flexible with my mom, but she enjoys it! She thrives while working there, in spite of all of the things she has had to deal with. After finding out about her diagnosis, she thought for sure she would be let go. But to the contrary, her boss compassionately gave her a month off to recover and figure everything out and let her come back as she felt she could. God could not have placed a more appropriate, kind group of people around my mom during this time.
This past Saturday my mom, grandma, and I got the chance to sing at the Mother-Daughter Brunch at our church and it was fabulous! On the all the tables were mason jars filled with beautiful lilacs. My mom drank them all in and I knew she loved having them on the table. As we were clearing up the brunch, the women who were in charge told us to take some of the centerpieces home with us. We all got talking and my mom mentioned the lilac bush that I brought from our old house last Mother's Day. I had completely forgotten about it and was so happy to hear that it took to the new soil and is blooming and thriving on its own. My mom has done just the same. She was uprooted from a home she loved, a home with its own personality and replanted in new soil with harsh weather coming from all angles, and she came out in full bloom, looking more radiant than ever!
I love you, Mom!
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Exhausted
Unspoken words have been spoken.
Heartbreaking frequencies have been sent out from my mouth.
This love has been broken and mended and broken over and over and I can't seem to differentiate between the two any more.
I feel as though my heart has no stability, no solidarity, no stronghold. I feel as though it's just floating, suspended by fishing line so thin and invisible that I have started to believe it isn't even there anymore.
I want to start over, to be with him again. But I'm terrified that that isn't right. I'm terrified of disobeying God again and having to go through this a second time.
He has been left on the curb, his heart still loyally pumping for me. And it's all my fault.
God it's just not fair. It just seems completely backwards that I am the only one who felt this push from God... this undeniable push towards greater things.
God please let it be that he just isn't mature enough yet. Please let it just be that right now you have a different plan for me, but he will be back. Please let it be that this isn't the end of us forever.
To have to turn away from someone you love because you are realizing and being shown that they aren't right for you is one of the most heart-breaking things I have ever had to endure. To have to try and explain to them why you can't be together even though you want to be is unspeakably difficult. To have to actually tell them that "its not you" it's just how God made us and that we don't fit is unthinkably heartbreaking.
I can't go on further.
I can't describe what this feels like. It's like torment. And it's getting exhausting. And I don't know what to do.
Heartbreaking frequencies have been sent out from my mouth.
This love has been broken and mended and broken over and over and I can't seem to differentiate between the two any more.
I feel as though my heart has no stability, no solidarity, no stronghold. I feel as though it's just floating, suspended by fishing line so thin and invisible that I have started to believe it isn't even there anymore.
I want to start over, to be with him again. But I'm terrified that that isn't right. I'm terrified of disobeying God again and having to go through this a second time.
He has been left on the curb, his heart still loyally pumping for me. And it's all my fault.
God it's just not fair. It just seems completely backwards that I am the only one who felt this push from God... this undeniable push towards greater things.
God please let it be that he just isn't mature enough yet. Please let it just be that right now you have a different plan for me, but he will be back. Please let it be that this isn't the end of us forever.
To have to turn away from someone you love because you are realizing and being shown that they aren't right for you is one of the most heart-breaking things I have ever had to endure. To have to try and explain to them why you can't be together even though you want to be is unspeakably difficult. To have to actually tell them that "its not you" it's just how God made us and that we don't fit is unthinkably heartbreaking.
I can't go on further.
I can't describe what this feels like. It's like torment. And it's getting exhausting. And I don't know what to do.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Twists and Turns, Ups and Downs, Rights and Wrongs
I wrote this back in November, but never had the guts to publish it. Looking back now, I can see how much I learned from struggling through all of this and I think it's interesting to see how that struggle manifested itself through my words...
I have this sick feeling in my stomach. I can't tell if it's all the chocolate that I just ate or something more. This long-distance thing is so unbelievably hard. It's messing with my head. I don't know if things are really changing between us or if it's just the distance speaking. I don't know if God is trying to tell me something or if I'm just over-thinking. I don't know what God is doing. And I guess that's normal. That's completely normal actually. What kills me is that sometimes I just don't feel it anymore. I don't feel in love anymore. And I know the difference between being in love and loving someone and that I won't always be in love. But what I don't know is if this moment of me being out of love is a moment that is going to define our relationship or if it's just another bump in the road. If it's a moment that is going to change things for him and I forever than aren't I being dishonest by not telling him? Or am I just being a little over the top? And I have nothing to be upset with him over. He has done everything I have asked him to do and still I feel empty. But I think today I've figured out why. I have been completely getting my pie from him and not from Him. I have been defining myself through his eyes, something that I said I would never do. I have been putting God second and putting him first, something I also said I would never do. College and being a D1 athlete and trying to keep up a relationship all the while trying to focus on God and make Him the center of attention is something that I am just discovering is absolutely overwhelming. So does something need to go? Or do I just wait. Do I just wait? Wait for what, though? Wait until something terrible happens that could have been completely avoided but hurt the one I love so very much? Or wait until my emotions blow over and I realize how foolish I was being and what I have in him? Do I wait to find out what happens, good or bad, or do I take it into my own hands to protect myself and the man I love? Is it terrible to think of taking a break? It literally makes me want to throw up and not face it. But would it provide any source of relief? And if it did.... what does that mean? Does that mean that God is trying to tell me that this phase of my life has passed? I'm already being faced with so much change.... would this devastation really provide relief? That doesn't even make sense. I'm trying to immerse myself in God. I know that I need Him now more than ever, which is such a cliche' in itself, seeing as I need Him ALWAYS. I need to feel HIS love and HIS power and just be constantly reminded of it. Am I being held back? Am I being kept from that? This is something I have never ever questioned before while in this relationship. Something that I was always sure was growing stronger because of the relationship. I am faced to see him as he truly is. In his complete and true form. Flaws and all. And I am being forced to question if he is meant for me; If he is bringing me closer to God; If he is creating a loving, caring relationship for me to be in. And it scares the crap out of me. He's doing everything I have asked him and I still feel empty and dissatisfied. Has the spark just...sputtered out? Can that really happen? Can something so dull and blase' actually be the ruin of a relationship in which I learned so much? At least let it be something big and meaningful. To love someone and then to let the feelings just go away and fizzle out and that be the end of it? How heart-wrenching is that? How positively wounding to be on the receiving end of that explanation. If that IS the case, love would push me to keep loving him because I think he is worth it. And I DO want to keep loving him, desperately. But it that right? I don't know if I want advice. I don't think I do. But all I know is that when I finish this post, and I am forced to go back to doing what I have been doing for the past 2 months with college and field hockey and my relationship and my faith, things are going to be strange. Things are going to be different. Things are going to have to change and that's all up to God. As terrifying as it is... my life is His, and His alone, no matter how many times I have to be reminded of that, no matter how many terrible things I have to go through. I am His and He is mine and that is something that will NEVER change.
I have this sick feeling in my stomach. I can't tell if it's all the chocolate that I just ate or something more. This long-distance thing is so unbelievably hard. It's messing with my head. I don't know if things are really changing between us or if it's just the distance speaking. I don't know if God is trying to tell me something or if I'm just over-thinking. I don't know what God is doing. And I guess that's normal. That's completely normal actually. What kills me is that sometimes I just don't feel it anymore. I don't feel in love anymore. And I know the difference between being in love and loving someone and that I won't always be in love. But what I don't know is if this moment of me being out of love is a moment that is going to define our relationship or if it's just another bump in the road. If it's a moment that is going to change things for him and I forever than aren't I being dishonest by not telling him? Or am I just being a little over the top? And I have nothing to be upset with him over. He has done everything I have asked him to do and still I feel empty. But I think today I've figured out why. I have been completely getting my pie from him and not from Him. I have been defining myself through his eyes, something that I said I would never do. I have been putting God second and putting him first, something I also said I would never do. College and being a D1 athlete and trying to keep up a relationship all the while trying to focus on God and make Him the center of attention is something that I am just discovering is absolutely overwhelming. So does something need to go? Or do I just wait. Do I just wait? Wait for what, though? Wait until something terrible happens that could have been completely avoided but hurt the one I love so very much? Or wait until my emotions blow over and I realize how foolish I was being and what I have in him? Do I wait to find out what happens, good or bad, or do I take it into my own hands to protect myself and the man I love? Is it terrible to think of taking a break? It literally makes me want to throw up and not face it. But would it provide any source of relief? And if it did.... what does that mean? Does that mean that God is trying to tell me that this phase of my life has passed? I'm already being faced with so much change.... would this devastation really provide relief? That doesn't even make sense. I'm trying to immerse myself in God. I know that I need Him now more than ever, which is such a cliche' in itself, seeing as I need Him ALWAYS. I need to feel HIS love and HIS power and just be constantly reminded of it. Am I being held back? Am I being kept from that? This is something I have never ever questioned before while in this relationship. Something that I was always sure was growing stronger because of the relationship. I am faced to see him as he truly is. In his complete and true form. Flaws and all. And I am being forced to question if he is meant for me; If he is bringing me closer to God; If he is creating a loving, caring relationship for me to be in. And it scares the crap out of me. He's doing everything I have asked him and I still feel empty and dissatisfied. Has the spark just...sputtered out? Can that really happen? Can something so dull and blase' actually be the ruin of a relationship in which I learned so much? At least let it be something big and meaningful. To love someone and then to let the feelings just go away and fizzle out and that be the end of it? How heart-wrenching is that? How positively wounding to be on the receiving end of that explanation. If that IS the case, love would push me to keep loving him because I think he is worth it. And I DO want to keep loving him, desperately. But it that right? I don't know if I want advice. I don't think I do. But all I know is that when I finish this post, and I am forced to go back to doing what I have been doing for the past 2 months with college and field hockey and my relationship and my faith, things are going to be strange. Things are going to be different. Things are going to have to change and that's all up to God. As terrifying as it is... my life is His, and His alone, no matter how many times I have to be reminded of that, no matter how many terrible things I have to go through. I am His and He is mine and that is something that will NEVER change.
Until Then...
I love you.
I really do.
And it's amazing the power that love can have on a person so willing to let love in. I have learned what it means to love. I'm not done learning, not even close, but my eyes have been opened to the wonderful experience and choice of loving another person, just the way they are.
The phrase "I love you" is often misinterpreted and misused. I'm pretty sure the reason behind this misuse is the idea that people don't really understand what love is and what it means to actually love someone.
For some reference, here are some other ways to say "I love you"
-I am willing and CHOOSING to see your flaws and accept them.
-I know you are not perfect and that is okay
-I am making a conscious effort to put your happiness before my own.
-I will lay down my life for you if that was necessary.
These are just a few ways in which we can tell someone that we ACTUALLY love them. Obviously certain people express and feel love in their own way, via the 6 love languages, but the concept is pretty much the same: love is choosing to put someone else's happiness before your own, despite their evident flaws and sinful nature.
I have been able to learn what that feels like, and let me tell you, it ain't easy.
Loving someone just the way they are is HARD work. It takes commitment, trust, and the ability to see past the flaws and see the good and the godly in that person.
I cannot wait to be loved that way and to spend the rest of my life with the man who does. But until then, and through that time, I will continue to find my Savior in every leaf I crunch beneath my feet, in every grain of sand underneath my fingernails, and in every sweet birdsong floating through the sky.
I really do.
And it's amazing the power that love can have on a person so willing to let love in. I have learned what it means to love. I'm not done learning, not even close, but my eyes have been opened to the wonderful experience and choice of loving another person, just the way they are.
The phrase "I love you" is often misinterpreted and misused. I'm pretty sure the reason behind this misuse is the idea that people don't really understand what love is and what it means to actually love someone.
For some reference, here are some other ways to say "I love you"
-I am willing and CHOOSING to see your flaws and accept them.
-I know you are not perfect and that is okay
-I am making a conscious effort to put your happiness before my own.
-I will lay down my life for you if that was necessary.
These are just a few ways in which we can tell someone that we ACTUALLY love them. Obviously certain people express and feel love in their own way, via the 6 love languages, but the concept is pretty much the same: love is choosing to put someone else's happiness before your own, despite their evident flaws and sinful nature.
I have been able to learn what that feels like, and let me tell you, it ain't easy.
Loving someone just the way they are is HARD work. It takes commitment, trust, and the ability to see past the flaws and see the good and the godly in that person.
I cannot wait to be loved that way and to spend the rest of my life with the man who does. But until then, and through that time, I will continue to find my Savior in every leaf I crunch beneath my feet, in every grain of sand underneath my fingernails, and in every sweet birdsong floating through the sky.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
To Mothers Everywhere
She felt your first kicks and punches and knew you were going to be a stubborn one.
She felt your hiccups sync with hers and knew that you were going to be like her whether you liked it or not.
She felt you stretch and shove all of her organs out of the way and knew you were going push your way into her life in a few short weeks.
She heard you cry for the first time and knew that no other baby had that same unique voice.
She felt your fuzzy little head and knew that she would always kiss it, no matter how old you got or how much you protested.
She held you close for the first time and knew that you were hers.
She watched as you stumbled over pebbles and was there to catch you.
She watched as you stumbled over trials and she let you fall but was always there to pick you back up again.
She watched you score your first goal and knew that it was only the first of many goals to be achieved.
She listened to your worries and knew that you were growing through it all.
She answered your hurried phone calls from school begging her to bring you your shin guards for practice... and brought them.
She taught you that respect is earned, not expected or deserved.
She taught you what it looked like to love your spouse.
She showed you what it looked like to forgive and to accept forgiveness when having made a mistake.
She showed you what it meant to be humble and to be a servant.
She showed you how to love even when you are not loved back.
She gave you hope for the future, peace for the past, and joy for the present.
She is your mother and she is beautiful.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Having fun writing songs :)
Like a tidal wave you've got me crashing into you
Like a summer day you've got me shining bright and true
Like the moon up high you've got me lighting up the sky
Like the stars in the night you've got me sparkling like a million fireflies
Cause baby, I love you
And I'm never falling through
All the cracks in this world that drag us down
Cause baby, I love you
When I'm feeling low you lift me up so high
When I'm crying rivers you make my tears run dry
When I'm stuck and can't get up you take my hand
When I fall to the ground you help me stand
That's why baby, I love you
And I'm never falling through
All the cracks in this world that drag us down
Cause baby, I love you.
There's something about the way you move
that makes me wanna stop the world for you
There's something about every word you say
that makes me want to walk your way
There's something, there's something, there's something baby that's why...
That's why baby, I love you
And I'm never falling through
All the cracks in this world that drag us down
Cause baby, I love you.
Like a summer day you've got me shining bright and true
Like the moon up high you've got me lighting up the sky
Like the stars in the night you've got me sparkling like a million fireflies
Cause baby, I love you
And I'm never falling through
All the cracks in this world that drag us down
Cause baby, I love you
When I'm feeling low you lift me up so high
When I'm crying rivers you make my tears run dry
When I'm stuck and can't get up you take my hand
When I fall to the ground you help me stand
That's why baby, I love you
And I'm never falling through
All the cracks in this world that drag us down
Cause baby, I love you.
There's something about the way you move
that makes me wanna stop the world for you
There's something about every word you say
that makes me want to walk your way
There's something, there's something, there's something baby that's why...
That's why baby, I love you
And I'm never falling through
All the cracks in this world that drag us down
Cause baby, I love you.
Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall... Reflect the Greatest of Them All
There was a strange rush when he left the room
and I'm not quite sure it was just the draft that he was pulling through the door with him.
There was a strange sense of revival as we sat talking until 3:30 am
and I'm not quite sure it was the energy drink I foolishly decided to gulp down.
There was a strange pulsing of blood rippling through my veins
and I'm not quite sure it was just my lack of sleep grabbing my attention.
What a strange, strange feeling it all seems to be...
this sudden grip of tantalizing tension,
this sudden grasp of vines around my stomach,
this sudden hold on my heart, as if it might start beating fervently again.
I don't quite know if it's all normal and right, what seems to be happening.
It's a phenomenon I have not experienced in over 2 years and I feel quite guilty being in the mix again,
although I know it's only a matter of time before my world catches up to its natural rotational speed.
It's small and it's meaningless but it truly is the little things that can make all the difference in the world, in my world at least.
I cannot try to make predictions of the future, that will only bring me worry and angst.
I can only try to live here, live now... but live here purely and live now righteously.
I can only hope that through this sprouting friendship, the Lord's glory and radiance will shine through me, simply a mirror reflecting his love, not my own, conditional love.
What comes next, I do not know, as I often don't, but what I can know is that as long as my Lord and Savior is the one being reflected from my feeble mirror, only good will prevail.
and I'm not quite sure it was just the draft that he was pulling through the door with him.
There was a strange sense of revival as we sat talking until 3:30 am
and I'm not quite sure it was the energy drink I foolishly decided to gulp down.
There was a strange pulsing of blood rippling through my veins
and I'm not quite sure it was just my lack of sleep grabbing my attention.
What a strange, strange feeling it all seems to be...
this sudden grip of tantalizing tension,
this sudden grasp of vines around my stomach,
this sudden hold on my heart, as if it might start beating fervently again.
I don't quite know if it's all normal and right, what seems to be happening.
It's a phenomenon I have not experienced in over 2 years and I feel quite guilty being in the mix again,
although I know it's only a matter of time before my world catches up to its natural rotational speed.
It's small and it's meaningless but it truly is the little things that can make all the difference in the world, in my world at least.
I cannot try to make predictions of the future, that will only bring me worry and angst.
I can only try to live here, live now... but live here purely and live now righteously.
I can only hope that through this sprouting friendship, the Lord's glory and radiance will shine through me, simply a mirror reflecting his love, not my own, conditional love.
What comes next, I do not know, as I often don't, but what I can know is that as long as my Lord and Savior is the one being reflected from my feeble mirror, only good will prevail.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
It's time.
There's a new kind of ache that has formed behind the cage of bones within me.
It's a new stage of grief I suppose.
I assume this happens to everyone and that this is just another phase of loss.
I guess this is just like every other heartbreak that anyone else has gone through.
I'm sure I'm not feeling anything anyone else hasn't felt.
And if that was all I was dealing with it wouldn't be so unexpected and difficult.
But it's not all I'm dealing with.
It's the realization that the pain from inside me is from the love I have for him,
It's the bruised ribs that are starting to catch my attention... it's the realization that maybe he doesn't feel the heartache anymore... that maybe he has moved on to better things.
And as much as I tell myself and other people and him especially that I want nothing more than for him to be happy, and as much as that's completely true, the selfish person inside me just wants him back.
As much as I tell myself that it's all okay, I know it isn't right now.
As much as I know it will be, I don't feel like it will be.
It's the knowledge that right now, no matter how many times he doesn't answer, no matter how many times he doesn't want to hear it, no matter how much he tries to cut me off, I won't stop wanting him.
And maybe that isn't normal. But I'm not normal, so that would make sense.
I've learned what it means to love someone, even if they don't understand that love and even if they aren't ready to love back the same way.
What comes next... well I have no idea to be honest. And I don't have any fancy words to make it all sound romantically tragic, either.
It's not about how many times he told me he loved me.
It's not about how many kisses we shared.
It's not about what he didn't do for me or what he tried to do for me.
It's about the fact that I would do anything to make him happy.
It's about how much I want to make him smile and how much I want to see that look in his face, like his eyes were suddenly opened as I stood before him.
I never knew it could hurt this badly. I never thought it would physically ache.
I guess I'm refusing to accept that this is just like any other heartbreak, because if I do, then it's almost like what we had wasn't special or personal. It's like the intimacy of everything we were is generalized and placed into a statistical category along with every other relationship. And I refuse to believe that this was just like every other relationship.
I refuse to believe that anyone else felt exactly what we felt.
I refuse to believe that anyone could know him like I do.
I refuse to believe that sooner or later we will both move on and this will all just be a memory... a 2 year long memory... in the past.
I can't let it be a memory...
Because if it becomes a memory that means it's dead.
And if I let it die...
Well if I let it die I'll move on and be completely sustained by God.
And for some terribly selfish reason that just seems like a side note.
But it's the entire book, not just a side note.
It's time I attempt to file away 2 years of my life into the memory cabinet.
It's time I face the fact that it's over.
It's time to move on.
I just hope I don't drown in the process.
It's a new stage of grief I suppose.
I assume this happens to everyone and that this is just another phase of loss.
I guess this is just like every other heartbreak that anyone else has gone through.
I'm sure I'm not feeling anything anyone else hasn't felt.
And if that was all I was dealing with it wouldn't be so unexpected and difficult.
But it's not all I'm dealing with.
It's the realization that the pain from inside me is from the love I have for him,
It's the bruised ribs that are starting to catch my attention... it's the realization that maybe he doesn't feel the heartache anymore... that maybe he has moved on to better things.
And as much as I tell myself and other people and him especially that I want nothing more than for him to be happy, and as much as that's completely true, the selfish person inside me just wants him back.
As much as I tell myself that it's all okay, I know it isn't right now.
As much as I know it will be, I don't feel like it will be.
It's the knowledge that right now, no matter how many times he doesn't answer, no matter how many times he doesn't want to hear it, no matter how much he tries to cut me off, I won't stop wanting him.
And maybe that isn't normal. But I'm not normal, so that would make sense.
I've learned what it means to love someone, even if they don't understand that love and even if they aren't ready to love back the same way.
What comes next... well I have no idea to be honest. And I don't have any fancy words to make it all sound romantically tragic, either.
It's not about how many times he told me he loved me.
It's not about how many kisses we shared.
It's not about what he didn't do for me or what he tried to do for me.
It's about the fact that I would do anything to make him happy.
It's about how much I want to make him smile and how much I want to see that look in his face, like his eyes were suddenly opened as I stood before him.
I never knew it could hurt this badly. I never thought it would physically ache.
I guess I'm refusing to accept that this is just like any other heartbreak, because if I do, then it's almost like what we had wasn't special or personal. It's like the intimacy of everything we were is generalized and placed into a statistical category along with every other relationship. And I refuse to believe that this was just like every other relationship.
I refuse to believe that anyone else felt exactly what we felt.
I refuse to believe that anyone could know him like I do.
I refuse to believe that sooner or later we will both move on and this will all just be a memory... a 2 year long memory... in the past.
I can't let it be a memory...
Because if it becomes a memory that means it's dead.
And if I let it die...
Well if I let it die I'll move on and be completely sustained by God.
And for some terribly selfish reason that just seems like a side note.
But it's the entire book, not just a side note.
It's time I attempt to file away 2 years of my life into the memory cabinet.
It's time I face the fact that it's over.
It's time to move on.
I just hope I don't drown in the process.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
What Now?
She crumpled up the old movie ticket in her coat pocket for the tenth time as she stared into his green eyes.
Her feeble heart was fluttering and skipping beats left and right, threatening to stop any moment in this thick silence.
His hair was still curly as ever, his chin still attempted to produce what you could almost call a beard, and he still stood awkwardly before her, not knowing what to say. He looked at her and missed her now more than ever, remembering every moment they had together. He wished it was all a nightmare, or a sad story a lonely girl had written late at night, but it wasn't. It was all painfully, and horribly real. He loved every inch of her, but he couldn't have her. He loved her flaws, because they were hers. He loved her awkwardness in front him, because it matched his. He matched her, yet she didn't match him anymore.
Her hair was still pin-straight as ever, her face still paper white, and she still stood awkwardly before him, not knowing what to say. She looked at him and her heart moaned. She wanted him to shake her awake and tell her it was all a bad dream and that everything was okay now that she was in his arms. But he never could. She missed his goofy dances he did in her living room and the way he laughed in the car, focusing on the road, desperately trying not to crash. She loved him. And that's what made everything so very difficult.
He watched her fidget, the way she always used to. He smiled at her and she smiled back and for a moment they matched.
And then it was gone.
She took a deep breath.
He sighed.
What now?
Friday, January 3, 2014
Spoken Poetry... Well, We'll See.
You're all sitting there wishing for a moment of excitement
A moment of complete and utter bliss to interrupt your mundane, rhapsody-lacking lives
Or maybe you're sitting there wishing for a moment of total peace
A moment when all time stops and the noise seems to have never been noise in the first place.
You're all sitting there waiting to be entertained, silently judging every move I make and every word I say
You're all sitting there and I'm standing here.
Standing here with my head high but my heart low on gas
Low on the fuel of our lives which is love.
Love that is binding, like the binding of an eternal book
You notice my hair, my eyes, my body, my voice
You notice them and you compare them
You compare them to yourself, to the ugliest person you know, and to the prettiest
You compare the world to me and you ask yourself why I don't reflect it.
I don't reflect it because it because my mirror just simply isn't globe shaped.
My mirror is Christ-shaped
I mean how does a mirror try to reflect something that it cannot even imitate the shape of.
Not to mention, my mirror isn't even facing the world.
Take the world and erase the l and you have what my mirror is facing.
My mirror is facing into the light of something much brighter, much grander than anything this world could ever try to offer
Maybe if you looked at my behind, you'd see the world, ha, considering that's the only part of me that's facing it.
I tried to live the way I was told to live through Cosmo and MTV and the world of speedy thumbs and just came out with my face in the shape of a question mark.
The marks that were made on my heart would forever be there, whether question-shaped, excitement-shaped or sorrow-shaped...they'd be there.
I've seen men so baked they start to look like an apple pie, I've seen
women so plastic, you'd wonder how they didn't end up in a recycling bin, I've seen
fathers so wasted that every word they speak throws their childrens' self-esteem into the waste bin.
And you ask me, why I don't look like the world...
I don't know about you but I don't particularly want to look like a half-baked, plastic apple pie that was just thrown into the garbage.
A moment of complete and utter bliss to interrupt your mundane, rhapsody-lacking lives
Or maybe you're sitting there wishing for a moment of total peace
A moment when all time stops and the noise seems to have never been noise in the first place.
You're all sitting there waiting to be entertained, silently judging every move I make and every word I say
You're all sitting there and I'm standing here.
Standing here with my head high but my heart low on gas
Low on the fuel of our lives which is love.
Love that is binding, like the binding of an eternal book
You notice my hair, my eyes, my body, my voice
You notice them and you compare them
You compare them to yourself, to the ugliest person you know, and to the prettiest
You compare the world to me and you ask yourself why I don't reflect it.
I don't reflect it because it because my mirror just simply isn't globe shaped.
My mirror is Christ-shaped
I mean how does a mirror try to reflect something that it cannot even imitate the shape of.
Not to mention, my mirror isn't even facing the world.
Take the world and erase the l and you have what my mirror is facing.
My mirror is facing into the light of something much brighter, much grander than anything this world could ever try to offer
Maybe if you looked at my behind, you'd see the world, ha, considering that's the only part of me that's facing it.
I tried to live the way I was told to live through Cosmo and MTV and the world of speedy thumbs and just came out with my face in the shape of a question mark.
The marks that were made on my heart would forever be there, whether question-shaped, excitement-shaped or sorrow-shaped...they'd be there.
I've seen men so baked they start to look like an apple pie, I've seen
women so plastic, you'd wonder how they didn't end up in a recycling bin, I've seen
fathers so wasted that every word they speak throws their childrens' self-esteem into the waste bin.
And you ask me, why I don't look like the world...
I don't know about you but I don't particularly want to look like a half-baked, plastic apple pie that was just thrown into the garbage.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
I am the Moon
She sat staring into the lake, the reflection of the moon glimmering back at her. Her heart was split, no, shattered. In a way, it was better this way, because maybe not feeling anything at the moment was better than feeling the pain and anguish she knew all to well. She let her face move up towards the sky as she took a deep breath of the cool night air. She was completely unprepared to move on, completely unprepared for the night to end and the sun to rise, the world spinning as if it hadn't stopped as it had in her heart. She didn't want to have to be okay.
She heard an owl in the distance, calling out, a lonely "Who?" It was much too apropos for the raw and salted wound festering under her chest. Who was she supposed to love now? Who was supposed to replace her world now?
A cloud passed over the moon and there was, for an instant, complete darkness. She wanted that darkness to continue, to last forever... because maybe if she couldn't see anything, she didn't have to believe it. Maybe if she couldn't see herself, she wouldn't have to see the tears streaming down anymore. Maybe if she didn't see herself she wouldn't have to see all the wonderful changes he made in her, reminding her of him.
Maybe if the deep imprint he made on her heart were to be erased in that darkness, this would all be a little easier.
The cloud moved and the moonlight shone down once more.
There was a ripple on the lake. It beamed out from the middle, gracing the quiet water and disrupting its stillness until it reached the bank where she sat. She saw its effects, how the ripples bounced backwards and hit each other and caused smaller disruptions within themselves. It was beautiful. It was then that she knew that the imprint on her heart, in the form of his name, would never go away, and she never wanted it to. All the things he taught her, all the things that rippled off of him and bounced towards her, disrupting her stillness and causing her to wake up from the bubble of herself...
She would never trade having learned all of that for the world.
A thick fog had begun to form over the lake and she was reminded of the fog that had been in her mind for too long. It slithered around until it had surrounded and covered the lake, permeating its surface, threatening to change the familiarity of it all. She couldn't stand the cruel irony.
She knew she had to let him go. But she didn't understand why. All she knew was that this weight, this heavy, foggy weight had been on her heart for much too long. It was like trying to wipe away fog on the outside of a windshield, from the inside. She couldn't do it until she stepped outside of herself and touched the cold glass and felt the truth without the warmth and safety of being on the inside.
With a shaky breath, she looked to the moon again...really looked at it. She smiled, but only for a fleeting moment, as she remembered that the moon wasn't really self-producing in its light. It was a reflection; a reflection of a light much brighter, a light much stronger, than what the moon could manage on its own. She furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about what that meant. The moon always reflected the light of its much grander predecessor, although not always in its entirety. Sometimes it only managed to show three quarters, sometimes only half, sometimes only a tiny sliver and sometimes, she realized, it never shined at all. As she thought more on this seemingly trivial fact, she thought about the fact that the earth was the reason why the moon didn't always reflect the sun. It got in the way sometimes.
And that's when she realized that she was the moon.
She was the moon!
Her one purpose was to reflect the light of the Son, but sometimes she let the things only found on earth get in the way and sometimes she became so enveloped in her life here on earth that she didn't reflect the Light at all. It hit her then that without the moon shining so full tonight, she would not have been able to see the ripples on the lake, to see them coming, to see their effects on the stillness around them. She would have been left in the darkness as she once previously wished, and the imprint would have been forgotten.
And how could she ever let that happen? Not in a million years.
It was all connected, it was all as it should be. Her heart was smashed but the Son was always burning and all she had to do was reflect its light onto the world. In the light of the Son, her heart would mend.
And with that, she sighed, and it seemed as if the fog felt the touch of something much stronger than itself as it evaporated up to the moon. It left behind a still, clear lake, ready to be disrupted all over again by the light of the Son, soon to show in the morning.
She heard an owl in the distance, calling out, a lonely "Who?" It was much too apropos for the raw and salted wound festering under her chest. Who was she supposed to love now? Who was supposed to replace her world now?
A cloud passed over the moon and there was, for an instant, complete darkness. She wanted that darkness to continue, to last forever... because maybe if she couldn't see anything, she didn't have to believe it. Maybe if she couldn't see herself, she wouldn't have to see the tears streaming down anymore. Maybe if she didn't see herself she wouldn't have to see all the wonderful changes he made in her, reminding her of him.
Maybe if the deep imprint he made on her heart were to be erased in that darkness, this would all be a little easier.
The cloud moved and the moonlight shone down once more.
There was a ripple on the lake. It beamed out from the middle, gracing the quiet water and disrupting its stillness until it reached the bank where she sat. She saw its effects, how the ripples bounced backwards and hit each other and caused smaller disruptions within themselves. It was beautiful. It was then that she knew that the imprint on her heart, in the form of his name, would never go away, and she never wanted it to. All the things he taught her, all the things that rippled off of him and bounced towards her, disrupting her stillness and causing her to wake up from the bubble of herself...
She would never trade having learned all of that for the world.
A thick fog had begun to form over the lake and she was reminded of the fog that had been in her mind for too long. It slithered around until it had surrounded and covered the lake, permeating its surface, threatening to change the familiarity of it all. She couldn't stand the cruel irony.
She knew she had to let him go. But she didn't understand why. All she knew was that this weight, this heavy, foggy weight had been on her heart for much too long. It was like trying to wipe away fog on the outside of a windshield, from the inside. She couldn't do it until she stepped outside of herself and touched the cold glass and felt the truth without the warmth and safety of being on the inside.
With a shaky breath, she looked to the moon again...really looked at it. She smiled, but only for a fleeting moment, as she remembered that the moon wasn't really self-producing in its light. It was a reflection; a reflection of a light much brighter, a light much stronger, than what the moon could manage on its own. She furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about what that meant. The moon always reflected the light of its much grander predecessor, although not always in its entirety. Sometimes it only managed to show three quarters, sometimes only half, sometimes only a tiny sliver and sometimes, she realized, it never shined at all. As she thought more on this seemingly trivial fact, she thought about the fact that the earth was the reason why the moon didn't always reflect the sun. It got in the way sometimes.
And that's when she realized that she was the moon.
She was the moon!
Her one purpose was to reflect the light of the Son, but sometimes she let the things only found on earth get in the way and sometimes she became so enveloped in her life here on earth that she didn't reflect the Light at all. It hit her then that without the moon shining so full tonight, she would not have been able to see the ripples on the lake, to see them coming, to see their effects on the stillness around them. She would have been left in the darkness as she once previously wished, and the imprint would have been forgotten.
And how could she ever let that happen? Not in a million years.
It was all connected, it was all as it should be. Her heart was smashed but the Son was always burning and all she had to do was reflect its light onto the world. In the light of the Son, her heart would mend.
And with that, she sighed, and it seemed as if the fog felt the touch of something much stronger than itself as it evaporated up to the moon. It left behind a still, clear lake, ready to be disrupted all over again by the light of the Son, soon to show in the morning.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Can't Understand
I don't understand why God is doing this. I don't understand why he has chosen to make it clear to me that I need to take a break from this relationship right now and NOT make it clear to him. I don't understand why God would do that. It makes everything so much harder. It makes me seem like this crazy lunatic person. I want this relationship so bad. I want to be with him so badly. But God has made it clear (just to me apparently) that that's not right, for now. I kind of understand why, but I don't understand why it's just me. People have been telling me how faithful and trusting I am being, but honestly, if I didn't trust God right now, I would have jumped off a cliff by now. I don't understand how people deal with things like this WITHOUT God? It makes no sense to me and I honestly can't imagine how you could actually come out of the flames okay without Him...
This really feels like I'm ripping my heart out and showing it to him and then taking my other hand and ripping his heart out and then smashing them to bits with a hammer right in front of him.
Talk about a "Happy New Year"... I mean, I guess I could look at this like a whole NEW year, a new start. And I wanted a new start... but I wanted him to be starting new again with me.
I just want him to be right for me and it's tearing me apart.
This really feels like I'm ripping my heart out and showing it to him and then taking my other hand and ripping his heart out and then smashing them to bits with a hammer right in front of him.
Talk about a "Happy New Year"... I mean, I guess I could look at this like a whole NEW year, a new start. And I wanted a new start... but I wanted him to be starting new again with me.
I just want him to be right for me and it's tearing me apart.
The Worst Part
I still love him.
And that's the worst part.
I still love the way he smells.
I still love the way he smiles.
I still love the way his goofy laugh lit up my day.
I still love the way he kissed my nose.
I still love his over-sized sweatshirt.
I still love the way he pulled me closer as we hugged longer.
I still love his bushy hair.
I still love the way he tickled me.
I still love his passion for the Lord.
I still love the way he wiped away my tears that fateful night.
I still love his beat up car with its terrible turning radius.
I still love the way he got mild road rage at idiot drivers
I still love his text messages.
I still love our song.
I still love every picture of us together.
I still love how he can possibly love grapefruit juice.
I still love those 20 minutes of excitement on the way to his house.
I still love his silly dances.
I still love his little laugh he did when he was content.
I still love how he held me and we watched tv together.
I still love the way he gave me goosebumps.
I still love his love of history.
I still love his family.
I still love everything he taught me.
I still love him.
And that's the worst part.
And that's the worst part.
I still love the way he smells.
I still love the way he smiles.
I still love the way his goofy laugh lit up my day.
I still love the way he kissed my nose.
I still love his over-sized sweatshirt.
I still love the way he pulled me closer as we hugged longer.
I still love his bushy hair.
I still love the way he tickled me.
I still love his passion for the Lord.
I still love the way he wiped away my tears that fateful night.
I still love his beat up car with its terrible turning radius.
I still love the way he got mild road rage at idiot drivers
I still love his text messages.
I still love our song.
I still love every picture of us together.
I still love how he can possibly love grapefruit juice.
I still love those 20 minutes of excitement on the way to his house.
I still love his silly dances.
I still love his little laugh he did when he was content.
I still love how he held me and we watched tv together.
I still love the way he gave me goosebumps.
I still love his love of history.
I still love his family.
I still love everything he taught me.
I still love him.
And that's the worst part.
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