It's That Time of Year Again

Yes, it's Halloween. Trick-or-treating, dressing up, candy, zombie movies...it doesn't get any better than this.

I've only ever been in a relationship over Halloween once. I was 16 and we went to a party at his friend's house. My friend got introduced to his friend and soon enough they were making out somewhere. That's all I remember. It was romantic.

I want to take my kids trick-or-treating. I saw a monkey and a bumble bee and an incredible hulk. I know it'll be a couple years before I can do that, but it just makes me...ache. How the heck do I be patient when there are so many things I cannot wait to have, that hurt because I don't have them?

I don't know if I can see it anymore, the end. I don't know what to make of that.


Maybe I'm Just Making Myself All These Things

Today fit the pieces together and suddenly it starts to make sense. It's probably not your fault. Inconveniently, I don't really think it's mine either. I'm just crazy. Perfect.

God, it's so hard to say that I need You. I like to be strong. But I cannot do this on my own anymore.


You're Making Me Furious

What words could possibly get across what I feel towards you right now? Oh, right. Fury. Disappointment. A general loss for words as to how someone could be as stupid as you - that about covers it.

I don't know where this is going, why I should even need to write it, or why there is a party giraffe as my picture.

There are only two things I need to say:
1. Don't you dare put this on me.
2. You lied all along...at least admit it now, in the end.

I'm frustrated, exhausted, and you...you aren't worth another word.


You're Making Me Angry

Sometimes it's just fun to write in giant, purple letters.

It's been a rough few days...and weeks...and months. Thankfully I can stop there. I never want to have to say years. I want to stop this streak before it gets there.

Someone told me tonight that I hide it really well. I think I'm painfully obvious...especially here. I might just explode. Or implode. Which is worse? Well, we can wait and see which one happens to me and that's probably it.

The last time I felt this way started with a death and ended with a boy. This old blog entry signals when it ended, I think.

Originally posted: December 10, 2006

So today I was listening to some songs that brought back a lot of memories.
And it got me wondering if I'll ever fully get over those things.
I guess it made me realize that I probably will never completely get over some of the past,
whether it be people or events.
I know it's for a good reason that I remember;
this way I don't repeat the same stupid mistakes or forget what I came from.
But at the same time, I think it would be so much easier just not to have to re-live it all every day.
I've made a conscious decision to let go, though.
The past doesn't control me anymore, and I'm ready for my new present, and the future that comes with.

YOU don't control me anymore.

Things will get better. They have to.


Some Pages Turned

I should probably be studying right now. By "probably" I really mean: "I have a Hermeneutics midterm tomorrow that I haven't even over-viewed yet, I'm still weeks behind on almost all my reading and this weekend will be busy enough without this wasted-time's worth of homework on top of the workload I'll have anyways." I should really be studying right now.

Despite that, today has rocked me once again with wave after wave of realization. I cannot live my life around boys...men...people of the male gender who barely find time to remember me in theirs.

Sidenote: Our generation has had a cloak of uncertainty thrown over it that no generation has before. We are unable to define exactly when it is that we move from being girls to women, boys to men (no lame boy band reference intended). Especially as women, we seem uncomfortable using the term on ourselves or our peers, unless the one being referred to is our parents' age or older. Why this inadequate feeling? From now on, none of the above paragraph's stuttering. Men and women, the end. Unless, of course, I'm actually referring to someone under the age of 18 or a person who acts as though they are under the age of 18. In the case above, "boys" would probably do the trick nicely.

I cannot live my life around boys who barely find time to remember me in theirs. I say boys because real men aren't so foolish as to tell a woman everything she wants to hear but not to come through on the promises that accompany such proclamations. Or maybe I'm just a stupid girl who would rather believe in love and fall than to be jaded and resentful, spurning love before it ever has a chance to blossom.

I became sloppy with my heart again as of late, and I promise it will happen again. I cannot help myself. I will not die with a life only half-lived, and I cannot settle until I have and have been fully loved.

Originally posted: March 9, 2007

I hate the way I spend every casual moment looking for you.
It doesn't even make sense, and I thought I would've been over it by now.
I guess some things you simply never get over...

A Day of Epiphany

Today was a day of epiphany. Say it enough times fast and it's not even a word anymore.

For the last three days I have been sick with H1N1. Hooray for being a part of a global epidemic; a story to tell my grandchildren. The first night it wasn't quite as funny, however. Somehow, what with the huge news coverage, people's fears ringing in my ears and the way it has been talked about like the second Black Plague (as well as a disturbing scene from a super old re-run of Touched by an Angel that we won't get into), I was terrified and completely convinced that I was going to die in my sleep.

My mom asked me the next day why I was so afraid (and I already knew why she was asking: if I'm a Christian, what do I have to fear in death?), but I couldn't explain it. Part of it was fear for the people around me and what they would have to go through, but mostly it was knowing that my life still remains very much unlived. I spend 90% of my thoughts these days on the future and when things are finally going to slide into place.

And then the epiphany. I came back to school today, and within minutes lost my cell phone. I would occasionally hear it buzz from its unknown hiding place, but I couldn't find it anywhere. This in itself is a huge feat, as anyone who has lived in these dorms will know. My area of the room is about 5 feet square (being very very generous), so there's not a lot of places it could be. I checked everywhere obvious half a dozen times, checked the most ridiculous places twice just to be sure, and finally gave up. As I went to go back to whatever it was I was doing before my search began (possibly straightening my hair?), I saw it. Lying on the ground, in the middle of nowhere for no good reason, was my phone. And it hit me. I go out of my way to look for how God is going to handle my life. I do everything in my power, going around to the "obvious," hoping I will discover His master plan. It is not until I give up and surrender to going on with life as normal that I see what He's been doing all along. I cannot find what He's doing until I live my life with Him and find His purposes in it.

Maybe this isn't hitting you as hard as it did me, but I was blown away. Who knew that misplacing a cell phone could give me such a perfect look at God's heart for me?


Uno, Deux, Three

My favourite blogs usually start when I have nothing to say. Tonight is one of those nights.

I do my best thinking alone in my car (bathroom, bed), talking myself through life. Reliving the past, contemplating possibilities for the future and coming up with wishful ridiculousies for the present are some of my most cherished activities during these times. Tonight, I talked with someone (slash they weren't actually there, although I do think I could play them rather convincingly on stage if ever called upon) about the intricacies of love from my point of view. It took a lot of explaining, but I think he got it in the end.

Tonight was my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. 50 of us gathered together to toast, roast, and (best of all) love on them. As the night wore on, more than once I caught them smiling into each other's eyes and realized that it takes more than luck to find a love like that. I was beyond happy for them, yet sad in a way I can't possibly describe.

As I explained my thoughts to my friend in the car on the way back to school, I realized some key things about myself. Uno: I am not crazy to be scared. Deux: It's probably all my fault. And three: I want someone to really see me before they love me.

The more I look around, the more I talk to God, and the more I converse with Invisibles, the more convinced I am that this has to be part of the plan.


Romeo, Romeo, Where Art Thou Hast Been For So Long, O Romeo?

Today was a horrible day.

Things just did not start out right. My phone died so my alarm did not go off. Normally this wouldn't be a problem because my internal clock would have woken me up, but only three hours of sleep tends to get in the way of that kind of thing. By the time I woke up my second class was already going and I looked and felt like the dirtiest sludge of all time. I proceeded to get ready in a hurry so I could do all I was supposed to do and be everywhere I was supposed to be...only to be horribly disappointed when I failed to accomplish any of this. I got nothing done and was left with feelings closely mirrored in movies such as American History X and the Exorcist. Needless to say, not my day.

BUT, oh glorious surprise, we had Broccoli Chicken Cheese Bake for dinner!! With delicious apple pie. And then I had an awesome meeting and got to watch some awesome Office with carrot sticks and popcorn. Upon returning to school, I found my early Christmas gift: EMILY! She has made everything brighter. The chilly autumn evening has been magically transformed to bright, sunlit, aframe afternoons and mystical days of shower hugs. Oh my love, why have you been away so long?

Today was a wonderful day.


When You Know, You Just Know

I had an enlightening conversation tonight. I talked and talked until somehow the truth came out and I was amazed at my own eloquence. Nostalgia, of course, mixed with hindsight and the truth of every circumstance, eventually coming together in perfect harmony.

I say "no regrets" a lot because a few years ago I decided that I did not want to turn into the kind of person who always regrets and spends her life looking backwards. Despite my best intentions, tonight sounded a lot like regret. It is not often that I break down over non-mistakes.

My wall is littered with photos of "I'm sorry"s and "remember when"s and "life was simpler then"s. I want to take fewer of those this year. I would much rather save friendships than pictures.

I don't know what to do to be different. How do I stop myself from becoming that person I both hated and somehow couldn't let go of? Even now, it's a struggle every morning to disentangle my fingers from the deceptions and temptations that so easily ensnare. So far the last few days I have been successful, and it's giving me a new sense of hope. Is it possible to only rely on God for love and fulfillment, or am I doomed to constantly fall? Today says the former, and I really want to keep it that way.

Originally posted: June 29, 2007

Sometimes I think our hearts don't even belong to us.
They do exactly what they want, even if everything inside of us is telling them it's not worth it.
Then they break. And we break too.


Meet You There Someday

I was reading through my old blogs from another site last night, from when I was 15 through 18, and it amazes me. Even then, in the heart of my rebellion, God loved me and was shaping me for His purposes. If all my dreams back then had come true, my life would look very different. He has been so faithful even in my pitiful mediocrity. I think that for the next little while I'm going to end each blog with an excerpt from back then, just for kicks.

My life is going down a very different road than I imagined. Sometimes the life I planned for feels so close I can taste it, but I know it's just a fantasy. I listen to this song and feel both more alive, more hopeful and more nostalgic than at any other time. The only thing that comes close is when I walk through the empty campus in the early morning, looking out over the misty beauty of the fresh sunlight and I feel so close to what once was. It's magical.

I'm on the road set out for me, and I don't know where it will lead. Sometimes i hear the faint whispers calling out after me: "When the world is right, I'll drive all night, meet you there someday..." and I have to take a deep breath and let go all over again of what might have been but never can be.

Originally posted: October 3, 2006

when I think of fall, I think of you
crunching leaves, holding mittened hands
falling in
love and falling apart
dying to you was like dying to summer:
swift, chilling, and perfect in its emptiness.


Grapefruit H2O

Somewhere in the confused suffocation of last week, I forgot what it feels like to breathe. I tell my lungs to inflate, I stare a hole through my chest at where they should be...and nothing happens.

How do I explain the journey of the last few days? There are no correct words. I fought, I smashed, I surrendered; I got up without waking, walked without seeing, talked without communicating; I dreamed, and then was smacked into reality. I am breaking into a million little pieces.

Tomorrow is a birth-place, a thinking space, an unknown face, and a resting place. It underscores my desire to never be alone, whilst drawing back into the wretched sanctuary of my bedroom. Will tomorrow find me courageous or terrified, standing tall or hiding low, faithful or heartbreaking...or just unfeeling?

I have forgotten what it means to draw a deep breath, let it melt into every crevice, and release the dust of ruined dreams. Tomorrow will be better.


Blog Numero 93

That is a lot of blogs. I don't know why I'm celebrating today rather than on number 100, but somehow it felt fitting.

I am at a fork in the road. Across the valley, through the woods and over mountains spread the tines of choice. Is this the end for me, or do I continue on and complete my four year program? Should I skip out tomorrow and go plant my dream church? Do I follow my heart, my gut or my head? Do I settle? What is settling? So many options and so few roadsigns.

I don't want to regret. Living out of that fear only brings me a life that isn't as full as it could be. It leaves me dangerously in view of a mansion on the side of the river called "settlement of the settling." It's beautiful from the outside, straight from a fairy tale, but the inside is gutted; the stillness echoing through the empty rooms is deafening. It's my dream, but that's the problem: it's mine not His.

The most current route marker has informed me that I'm going the right direction, but down the wrong path. Do I turn around? Can I?

One day I'll change. Some day I will listen and be willing to turn things around. Unfortunately, I don't think that day is today. I'm sorry...I truly am.

You're On Fire When He's Near You

When I say that I want to be on fire for You, it's usually in a moment of passion that quickly dies like cooling embers in the winter wind. I ask You to empty me so that You can reign, and I wake up the next morning wondering what it will take to finally get to a place where I want to want You to empty me.

If this were the fight for my soul, this "thing" or my salvation, would it be easier to give up?

When I say that I want to be on fire for You, I don't think I realize the implications. I got an awesome picture tonight of a heart on fire, and I realized that I have not been holding up my end. When a building goes up in flames, I don't get to shout directions from the street below about what will stay and what will go. I don't yell to the fire: "Hey! Be careful of those family photos, they mean a lot. Sure, burn the rest, but I'd really like to keep my CD collection." No way. I stand aside and watch it burn to the ground. This should be the same. If my heart is truly consumed by Your inferno, everything else should be burned up: my selfish desires, my longing for "the old country" as Hebrews puts it, my hopes and dreams and failings and weaknesses. They should all evaporate in smoke, falling away in the wake of Your love inside of me.

When will I finally want to want You to empty me?

"Come be the fire inside of me..."


Sweaty McSweater Pants

This week has been called many things: Hell Week, No-Sleep-Week, and The Week of Death. For me, it's some inconclusive combo of the three. It's hot as "that place" in this classroom, I have had more class hours than sleep this week, and I've definitely felt on the verge of death for several days now. I have barely ventured out of my room except to trudge through the rain to yet another class that I will barely stay awake through, and I desperately search for any spare moment to get some more Old Testament reading done. By the time I finally finish class and move into homework mode, my brain is so fried that you could cook an egg from a block away.

So why am I blogging when I obviously have no time? First, I desperately need to write about something non-hermeneutical to retain some semblance of sanity. Second, my brain is dead and there's no way I'm taking in any of this anyways. Third, maybe if I explain myself and the way I've been lately, at least some people will understand why I am the way I am.

Normally I take great joy in looking decent. Hair done, contacts in and make-up on is usually a given, as well as clothes that match and smelling delicious. This week I honestly couldn't care less. I can't remember the last time I picked up an eyelash curler or shimmery lipgloss, or how long it's been since my underwear matched my t-shirt. I've been wearing flipflops in the rain so that I can more easily take off my shoes in class, my sweaters can't recall what it's like to match the shirt beneath them, and perfume is but a long-gone memory. It's pretty pathetic.

It's only 44 hours of class in a week. I guess that's not so bad. I mean, who am I to complain? It's not as if I go from 8am to 5:15pm every day or lose my Saturday to a class I hate. Oh, wait.

Sweet, sweet last year, where have you gone? I miss you and your carefree days. Somehow 19 credits worth of writing was so beautiful compared to 16 credits of reading. Let's look on the bright side, though: it's Thursday. On Tuesday, I didn't know if I would ever make it here; this is cause for great celebration. I love you, Thursday. Your name tastes scrumptious on my classroom-silenced lips.

Today is also the first day of October. September is already gone, and it makes me sad. I haven't put the same effort in this year; I have barely made new friends and it makes me feel like I have been wasting my time. Hopefully this realization will help me get my butt in gear. When I think of where I was this time last year (here I go with the comparisons again) and it blows my mind. I have come so far, and yet I cannot make myself believe that I'm better off, except in my relationship with God. That's a lie. Yes I'm better with God, but I'm also HUGELY better off because of the people who I've come to love. Right now, the number one person in my mind is Emily. She'll be here in two weeks, and my heart already knows it. I can feel myself growing lighter and the sadness dissipating. I love her so much it makes me ache.

Tomorrow will be better. It will be Friday, which means: the week will be nearly done, I will be almost finished with my scrub lifestyle, and I'll only need to survive through a day of two intensives. And on Sunday, oh glorious Sunday, the clouds will part and the sun will shine and this heaviness of heart will depart (hopefully). Just that knowledge already makes me feel so much better. This "sweatpant sickness"
will pass and I will feel human once more.