Love won. the end.

I've been thinking a lot lately about waiting on God. .... mostly because that's where I'm at (in just about everything), but I feel it really strongly, too, the waiting on God. It's been what I've accidentally been reading about..... and I just now realized, it's also advent.

Sometimes the it's the rain making bells and harmony, sometimes the soft autumn air lilting through the open window, and even the sunlight makes the casual appearance, sneaking in one beam at a time. These are my mornings, waking on a floor in Asheville. And it feels like peace. It feels as close to home as I can crawl while still in this skin.
It's the people.
They breathe. We talk, we live.
We sit up late at night playing games where the rules change and people win in 2 minutes or 3 hours. We cook in mass clumps, scurrying here and there, dodging people, inserting words and laughs, staring in astonishment at the amount of food that can fit on open counters and stoves, and....any other empty places. We sing together and we are quiet together, listening with dream-filled faces to the music.....
We go to hunt for blankets and friendship, and end up with free waters and fries. We sit on couches with bits of life escaping from our mouths and eyes. We go on rambles through the woods, crossing creeks and walking with soggy feet. We go on runs and walks through the rain, joyful as it swells the rivers.
We learn together, and I am continually taught what love means, and what trusting God feels like.

This year has the potential to be the best Christmas yet.
I won't be in Illinois for Dec. 25th. Neither will my sister and her boyfriend. Turns out my brother and his wife won't be either, actually.

I think this is great, for multiple reasons:

We have decided to have Christmas sometime in October..... no joke. I think maybe the 19th?
Actually, we decided to have Christmas, thanksgiving, and Halloween all on the same day. (or at least that is the rumor/plan) I am delighted.
I don't even have to be the target of all the horrible commercialism, turns out..... (at least not 90% of it) because I'm having Christmas before Halloween! Ha! take that advertisement, consumer driven-America!
Maybe I can have some peace without all the clutter. maybe I will be able to have a good day with a little food and people.

And maybe it will be a day well spent, about what it's about. About what everyday should be about..... maybe that's what'll happen.

I don't know that I'd suggest riding on a bike through the cold wind and the rain in a poncho. It feels like you have a parachute attached to your back. So if you like riding your bike in the cold, windy, wet, with a parachute attached to your back....then, yeah, it's loads of fun. Maybe I should look into getting a rain jacket...you know, those things you wear that are semi-water-proof. Or I could just keep wearing the poncho and telling you the same story. over and over again.

Either way, I actually had a good time riding (parachute on my back and all) and stopped to take some photos, so enjoy:

pumpkin puke

So, I’m sitting in my room, yawning from the sleepiness creeping nearer. It’s getting later, and getting nearer the time where technically I’m a year older, even though technically I’m only a day older….how exactly does that work again?
Well, I sat around for about an hour realizing that I am moving in a few days…or leaving at least. Hmm…

Somehow I end up on the phone with my brother/former bartender/great person to ask about how much alcohol certain drinks contain, and my suspicions are confirmed. …..and then the conversation trails off into the realm of our annual (3rd , as of this yr.) pajama eggnog run. At which point I remind him that we have to get some of the ‘pumpkin milk’ as well as the eggnog. (if you haven’t tried it, you should, especially if you are a pumpkin addict like myself)
And then he tells me that he read on a blog once about someone having one of those milk-chugging (til you puke) contests, except with eggnog….. Which we both thought was hilarious and seriously disgusting. And then we decide someone should try that with pumpkin milk….and that is even more disgusting and deadly, because, as it turns out, eggnog is really bad for you and contains about 250 or 350 calories per tiny serving, but pumpkin milk, oh pumpkin milk. It has put eggnog to shame. If I remember right it has a whopping 450 calories per serving…… so basically, a meal in a glass. Minus any good/essential nutrients for you of course. Can’t have those things helping out your immune system, folks. We also decided that my brother would probably miraculously not puke after such an escapade, but instead would be sick for about 4 days. My opinion was that he’d be hospitalized, and everyone would be baffled as to the cause of his illness.
Anyway, sometime around the mention of pumpkin puke, eggnog guzzling, and hysterical hypothesis of what would happen if we did that, and of course the sheer disgustingness of consuming so many calories in one go (you do the math, at least half a gallon worth of servings of that stuff) I lost it, or we both did, and we just kept laughing, I was laughing in between sentences, tears streaming from my eyes.

Someday maybe I will attempt it. But I really hate puking. And it would have to be a group event, you know, community and all that.

But who knows, pumpkin puke? Eh…..

painted leaves

I can hear the bells ringing.
They sing to me while I am still buried beneath the warmth, eyes shut up, my dreams still in halos around my head. The air coming in at my window breathes like Autumn.
I can feel old footsteps weaving around me, I walk down old paths covered in dust trying to catch a glimpse of a former life, but now it evades me.
And I wonder about it all. I lie there taking in my first aware breaths, breathing in deeply, sighing, what does it mean? Before the rest of the world awakes, what does it mean? In the quiet early morning air that grabs my heart, what does it mean?
I have this peace without explanation, pictures of places, blurred faces of people I know-more than know- people who have become a part of me….a piece of them has made me who I am.
And I walk down this road with a certain sort of solemn air, the dust clinging to my feet, the leaves doing whirlwind dances, the crisp wind waking me and making melodies around me.

I find it odd that the one time of the year that entirely enraptures me is the one where everything is dying. (And I am not alone in that sentiment) And in it’s dying it isn’t frightful, nor does it strive to avoid some mysterious thing that it cannot.
Instead there is a calm.
Instead there is the quiet music.
Instead there are the last remnants of life, bursting brightly into brilliance, mysteries held tightly, the world goes forth into it’s unknown slumber. It remembers something we have forgotten. It remembers and is at peace:
Everything must die to become alive.

Ironically, dying contains the beauty of life and speaks more about it than sometimes the living can. It strips us of something we have tried to hold in closed hands for ourselves. It is the dying that reflects the change in our eyes……
It is the dying that paints where value really dwells.
It is the dying that rips our many misconceptions.
It is the dying that makes us face another who is much more than ourselves.
The very thing so many of us flee from, turn down all paths to avoid, is maybe the one thing that makes this whole living business clear.
Maybe death isn’t really death anymore.
Maybe it’s the beginning of the story. Perhaps all we are living in right now is the great prelude to the real music. A distant echo of sorts.

And I breathe in the Autumns wisps of air. I wait for the painted leaves. I wait for the death that cries out something more than life.
And the mystery of the beauty that reflects in something dying.

Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things; let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord .

(just in case anyone forgot what 'steadfast' means.....)

1 a : firmly fixed in place : immovable b : not subject to change
2 : firm in belief, determination, or adherence

how to break in to your own house

Here are some random occurrences of the day:

making about 40 or some odd pancakes.....

Locking myself out of the house for the second time this week even though this week is the only time in the last 6 months that I have managed this.....

Steps to break in to your own apartment after grocery shopping and realizing that your keys are still residing in your house. your locked house. :

-make sure to lock yourself out of the house a couple days in advance so that you get time to practice the technique of climbing through windows....

-also make sure you are wearing a dress for the practice round so that you feel really spoiled when it happens for real and you're fortunate enough to have pants on that time around.

-use the window on the front porch the first time. hey, you have to take baby steps... you get an easy to reach window the first time.

-After round one, if you want a real challenge make sure the only window available to climb through is one that is about 5 feet off the ground.

-make sure your bag of groceries is secure on the ground.

-hit the screen just right, so as to knock the operating window fan onto the floor (out of your way)

-scout out a possible route to climb up the flat brick wall that is preventing you with reuniting with your apartment bedroom window.

-climb up previously mentioned route (in this case, some pipes, a window sill around the corner and a post sticking out of the ground nearby) and pretend you are spiderman for a couple minutes as you climb around the side of the house to the break-in window.

-push the top part of the window down all the way, grin sheepishly at the people in the backyard, who are watching you...apparently curious and amused, whom you've never met, and laugh, and say you locked yourself out.....

-climb through the top part of the window, and shimmy inside.

-grab your keys, go back outside for the groceries, and smile your triumphant smile to curious backyard onlookers.

trust me, these tips will come in handy someday, just you wait.

anyway, back to the random occurrences:

drive out in the country in connecticut (yes, there's actually some country here!!) and not hit anyone. : )

get some lovely peaceful rain.

walk up a large hill/rock/thing (too small for a mountain) with great company.

decide that you will someday take a bike trip through the british isles, run a bed and breakfast, scheme up book/project ideas, and be fairies together in some random medieval festival (fairies with wings) (this was olivia's idea, actually, not mine! hah!)

write a list of schemes and see how many actually get accomplished, (hey at least you'll never run out of good ideas)

watch ALF .....

realize that I have had an amazingly peaceful day off, that God has been walking the whole way through with me, that it was so fun. that there was no pretentiousness in the people
I spent the day with, or the things we did. And that feels good in a city that's so concerned with being pretentious.

I could go for days like these more often.

I wonder how often we walk around, blindly seeking Jesus when He is right in front of our face.

I just came home to the coolest surprise:

a little orange slip in my mailbox......

informing me that I can pick up my ....yep, my mandolin!!!! ...at the post office tomorrow!


OH! and I'm gonna be an aunt!!! my sister-in-law and brother are gonna have a baby!!!


(well, I think I've hit my exclamation mark quota for the day)

When I am writing, I’d like to think sometimes that what I write is worth reading to someone, or that I can say something profound, something eloquent, something brilliant…….
Sometimes it’s the temptation to sound like a certain type of person. Or to say something oh so true.
These are the times I usually try to avoid writing. (not that it always works) Because anything I write will only be at best semi-honest. And because, horribly, then the words written become more about me, or how I look, or who I am than anything else. I don’t really want to sound good right now, I really just want to be honest.

So here’s my un-eloquence for the day:

Jesus.
He loves me.
I’m gonna go find out what that means.
Every day.
Over and over again.
Til nothing else matters.

house centipede: the sequel.

I woke up this morning, walked into the bathroom, with my flip-flops on of course- so that no crawly creatures somehow ended up underneath my bare feet- and saw a house centipede.....
It was struggling to get out of the bathtub ..... evidently it had crawled in but couldn't get back out....at which point I turned the water all the way on....hot...
and about 5 minutes later....drowned house centipede.

eww.

eeewwwwwwwww..........!!

i don't live in a basement anymore.

and I just saw my first house-centipede of the summer.
In my apartment.

this does not make me happy.

this in fact makes me not want to sleep.

or be anywhere in my bare/hobbit feet.

why in the world would God make something with so many legs???? it's just not fair. really.

and so creepy and fast.


I'm not one for killing creatures, but that thing is going to come into contact with the bottom of my shoe, or for that matter, anything within grabbing distance that will bring death to all it's little legs as quickly as possible if it comes within my eye sight.... and isn't faster than me.

oh, it's death to the house-centipede's, and they better flippin watch out, cause I'm on a mission now.

Bonhoeffer.... creation and fall....the image of God on earth

“In man God creates his image on earth. This means that man is like the creator in that he is free. Actually he is free only by God’s creation, by means of the word of God; he is free for the worship of the creator. In the language of the Bible, freedom is not something man has for himself but something he has for others. No man is free “as such” that is, in a vacuum, in the way that he may be musical, intelligent or blind as such. Freedom is not a quality of man, nor is it an ability, a capacity, a kind of being that somehow flares up in him. Any one investigation of man to discover freedom finds nothing of it. Why? Because freedom is not a quality which can be revealed- it is not a possession, a presence, an object, nor is it a form for existence- but a relationship and nothing else. In truth, freedom is a relationship between two persons. Being free means ‘being free for the other’, because the other has bound me to him. Only in relationship with the other am I free.
No substantial or individualistic concept of freedom can conceive of freedom. I have no control over freedom as over a property. It is simply the event that happens to me through the other. We can ask how we know this, or whether this is not just again speculation about the beginning resulting from being in the middle. The answer is that it is the message of the gospel that God’s freedom has bound us to itself, that his free grace only becomes real in this relation to us, and that God does not will to be free for himself but for man. God in Christ is free for man. Because he does not retain his freedom for himself the concept of freedom only exists for us as “being free for.” For to us who live in the middle through Christ and know our humanity in his resurrection, that God is free has no meaning except that we are free for God. The freedom of the creator is proved by the fact that he allows us to be free for him, and that means nothing except that he creates his image on earth. The paradox of created freedom cannot be eliminated. Indeed it must be made as obvious as possible. Here created freedom means- and it is this that goes beyond all previous deeds of God, the unique par excellence- that God himself enters into creation.”

it's like the music we play when we don't have words

'Thus says the Lord: "Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord."'


'See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. '

I'm moving.


I love that God messes up my plans.

sick of safe

Here's something I've been thinking about a lot the last few days, something that was evidently on my mind over a year ago.... I've kind of been thinking about it in connection with fear......

March 4th, 2008

It really makes me wonder sometimes, reading of Jesus and his life, reading about the disciples lives....and the extremes they hit. I don't mean extreme in a bad way, just extreme love. I still struggle with reconciling it all in my head. I'm not saying it has to look the same for everyone, or that it should, but I am left with this feeling that somehow we rationalize the Bible down, we talk about love as if we know what it is, and yet no one lays down their life for another person. We give with limit, when God's love knew none. We expect to live, do some good things, generally be ok people, and somewhere it seems love has lost its danger. Do we ever seriously consider what it may cost to follow, or do we simply follow and give no heed to the cost? I don't know what the cross means to everyone else-but I don't think Christ was scoffing when he told people to deny themselves and carry their cross. We have watered down love. We want the good feeling and the thrill, without ever truly having to take a full risk- we'll only see a dim version of love as long as we're willing to only go to half-lengths to show it.
The question is, do any of us have the courage left to show it?

Will any of us opt for extreme love rather than mediocre?

is the cost something we are willing to pay?



And now, a year later, I think the answer to that question is ... Yes.

Once you see, once you really see who Jesus is, Yes.
because there aren't any more options left.

He is the only thing that's left.
Jesus, who he is, and how he has lived love.

nothing else matters anymore.

hooray! it's a curl-up-in-a-hoodie-with-a-pillow-and-read type of day.

It's gushing rain outside.
and because I'm a little odd, that's making me smile. well, there's also lightning, which could make my walk to work interesting if it's still doing this in a few hours....... : ) I love thunderstorms. oh well, you only get so many chances in life to get absolutely drenched, while dodging lightning on the way to work. I don't want to waste that opportunity.
(I also don't own an umbrella at the moment ((which isn't too much of a tragedy for me since i like rain)) I have a tendancy to leave umbrella's places...and never remember them..... although! the way the lightning is going on outside, i think i prefer not having an umbrella.)

well. back in CT.

cheese....the miracle cure-all

The reason I am in chattanooga is to visit my friends keith & katherine.... who, I also have to say, have the two cutest kids in the world. (trust me on this one, I've seen lots of amazingly cute ones....I think it's that they are ridiculously cute and also have a knack for being horribly funny and completely unaware of how funny they are. )

anyway. here's a very small dose:
Eden (who just turned three) was crying saying that she needed another vitamin, while katherine reassured her that she's only supposed to have one vitamin a day. eventually Eden agrees that some cold water will be nice (the house was hot)
but then promptly informs us that cheese will make her feel better.

Oh, and just in case you don't believe me, here's the photo's to prove it:

scavenger hunts

I’m sick of people who spout off Jesus’ name or the title of Christianity as though they are God themselves, as though they know everything there is to know about everything. They throw around their own opinions like they are law set in stone. They have in fact re-written the law, re-interpreted it, and their versions are right. I’m exhausted by people throwing Jesus’ name around lightly. I’m tired and bored with america’s version of pretty Christianity, of public prayers with too many words and language we never use. I’m grossed out by prayers that sound like speeches, by prayers that adorn themselves with humility only to get others’ attention……of all the competitions to see who can be more 'christian'. Our version that justifies ourselves while openly condemning others….that is God’s place. And God, could you forgive us the times we use Jesus to make ourselves look good? No more pictures, please, of us walking around with trees in our eyes and hearts made of wadded dollar bills. No more claiming that we can reconcile Jesus to the comfort we obsess over…….. And could someone please spare me the music that makes me want to retch every time I hear it???

I’m sick of cynicism. I’m grossed out by the people who put jesus on like the latest fashion. The people who sit around talking of the other side of the matter….the ones who condemn the form of Christianity that is wrong, but in an effort not to be confused with it, make sure they are onto all the latest trends and fashions….and please, oh please, let me appear to be hip. I will throw in Jesus’ name every once in a while, but make sure it isn’t too often, just in case someone thinks I’m one of ‘those other Christians’ ….you know, the judgmental kind. The one the previous paragraph is about. And I will be all about social justice, all about the environment, etc……. But spare most of the connection it has with Jesus and who he is. Oh, and only give me the cutting verses to hurl at others. But never give me the ones that pierce my bones and make me change. I'm sick of seeing us so concerned as to what we aren't, that we don't know what we are. I’m exhausted with the people who still claim to follow Jesus but have lost every bit of what it means to love him.

Could someone please give me the real Jesus?
The one who is meek and mild, kind and loving, who turns over tables and says really shocking things to the religious people, the know-it-alls. The one who doesn’t need a mirror to look in or fame to grasp for himself, the one that can’t shut up about the kingdom of heaven, but bears no pretense. The one who gave up nearly everything we spend our lives desiring all so that he could love others and bear witness to who our Father is. The one who doesn’t care what people’s opinion of him is, the one who demands everything from us. The one who understands that showing people how to love isn’t easy, nor is it painless. The one who loves the poor, lost, hurting, ignorant,rich, stuck-up, unpopular, enemies, vile people, outcasts of society, even the overly religious…..but his loving was never done to be cool, it wasn’t done to further some ‘image’ he needed to build of himself. The one who gave more back. The one who willingly put my sins, my atrocious self-absorption, my lack of love, on his own back and died for me. the one that doesn't give trite answers about love, who doesn't take the easy route, but instead shows me his hands, and says 'take up your cross and follow me' The one who never stops loving. The one who loves me beyond my limits.

Maybe I should start with myself.

But could someone please give me the real jesus?
Because I’m tired.

the night-time charm

I’m sitting in the dark in the backseat of a car, my brother in the front, listening to a pod cast, while I have his decrepit pair of headphones in my ears. Only the right side works. My left side is therefore listening to the soft hum of voices from a pod cast, while my right listens to mellow, sleepy music. It makes me glad to be awake at an hour when most the world is sleeping. I like the quiet, the lights blankly staring back at you, the miles reaching out before you and behind. It gives me this sort of late-night peace unique to road trips.
Earlier I leaned with my face against the window, crowded with rain drops racing each other down the glass.

I stare through the blur at the darkening sky, the storm clouds blanketing us, the lightning playing games around us….running through the fields and the open sky. I am surrounded by an odd serenity, maybe it’s derived from the awe demanded by such storms. They always remind me how small we are, but in what large hands we are held.

And suddenly the tranquility is broken by the music. My pondering replaced by singing. It’s midnight and this is how we accomplish two things in the car:
1) staying awake.
2) having way too much fun.

And I am sad about only one thing: I only get so many of these moments in my life. And I will probably be aware of even fewer than I get.
But at least I am aware of the importance of sitting in a car at midnight, music loud and inevitably sung along with, streaming down the road feeling the invitation of going somewhere, being homesick for everywhere.

And soon the night magic of travel will be over.

I am in Chattanooga, TN until thursday, and I am loving it. It feels great to be away from New England for a little while. I can breathe.
And there are mountains.

the booktrader cafe

So I have one day left before I head off to Illinois and Tennessee. Yeah, I've been counting. For about a month. I am thoroughly looking forward to the ten days off work, not to mention being somewhere other than the city.....actually I get to be mostly out in the country and help garden. (and hopefully see some good thunderstorms ....what's a visit back to illinois without the thunderstorms???) All of this sounds like bliss to me. And as burnt-out as I am with work (that's what happens when you only have around 3 full days off in a month....) I had an amazing day today.

I work at a locally owned, used bookstore/cafe-coffee shop. I am one of the managers (unfortunately : ) ) I should mention, in all fairness, it really isn't a bad job at all, ....It's just, I really sorta, kinda miss working with kids...or doing something where, well, where i am doing something more than sorting through books or making sandwiches...etc. BUT. I had a few fun moments today. The yalies have their graduation this week. And so we are ridiculously busy during lunch. And I am pretty sure I have way too much fun seeing how quickly I can throw sandwiches together....it's like some sort of competition for me. I also happen to like that even though you sometimes get ridiculous customers, you also have the ones who are really nice, you know, the regulars you can chat with. It's a fun change since it seems like most of new england (or maybe it's just new haven or CT) comes off a bit snooty....a bit cold. I can walk around most days and everyone is in this frenzied rush to be somewhere, avoid all eye-contact with anyone, and at all costs,.... don't smile, don't ever smile. ( I actually have this idea, I want to make a large sign with something universally funny written on it, wear it around town, and see how many people I can get to smile or laugh. ...so any suggestions, throw 'em my way) But get the regulars inside booktrader and their wall starts to crumble rapidly. yay! they really are human!
So this guy, one of the students (a regular) comes in today for a coffee, but also wants a scone....and a funny scenario takes place. He jokingly (but also seriously) wants to know what he can do for the scone ....so he doesn't have to pay, cause he only has two dollars (cash) left for the next couple days. now, mind you, most yale students aren't exactly destitute. : )
we made a ton of tips today, so i offer to buy the scone, insist, and that is what ends up happening. But he bargains for it, so I came up with a creative idea. I told him that he has to take someone out for coffee before he leaves town (in exchange for the scone) ....like a homeless person, or maybe someone he knows who's lonely, basically someone who needs it ('it' being time to just hangout with someone, to feel like they're important enough to warrant someone else's time) I think that scone was definitely worth the $ 2.39 I paid for it. Not to mention, I also recieved a hilarious hand-written piece of paper with 9 reasons why 'you should buy a booktrader scone right now!' which I think is funny enough that it just might get laminated and posted somewhere for the rest of the yale students to read in amusement.

spare me the 'safe' jesus. I don't want him.





I want the Jesus that loves dangerously.

I can't forget.

do you not see the lights?

and this is my agony tonight:
If we actually lived what Jesus taught, if we actually walked in his footsteps, if we learned to love like he loved..........
and none of it for personal gain.......
do you think more people would be convinced?
Do you think more people would see what love was?


I can't help but wonder. and i also can't help but wonder......there were a lot of people who thought that what jesus taught was foolishness. that is the part that rips me.
Jesus can take being called foolish all day long, that's not what pains me.
it's the friends and brothers and sisters who can only see the foolishness of it, but not the truth.
I don't think i have the words.

faerie tales

kate, you'll enjoy this story:
I went for a walk this morning, about 10 blocks down to the grocery store, and as I am strolling down the sidewalk, carefree and singing songs to the sun and sky as my audience (one must keep up the appearance of being a faerie, after all....) a car going the opposite direction as me honks, and they act as though they recognize me. I don't, however recognize this guy, not in the 2 seconds I have to look, but then after a delayed reaction I realize (or think I do) that the guy driving is a customer at booktrader....he comes in all the time with his wife, and they are one of the nicest couples ever, practically our favorite customers.... So I quickly turn to wave and smile thinking i know this smiling, honking man. but he pulls into the gas station directly behind me and so i turn to say hi quickly, and realize once I am within 15 feet that it is indeed NOT the man who is our favorite customer along with his wife. His face looks remarkably like the favorite from thirty-five feet away and no glasses. It is a complete stranger. I give a bemused look that says "who are you, and why did you honk at me, and why did you turn your vehicle into the gas station?" He asks if I would like a ride. I quickly reply "no thanks, i'm fine" and continue walking on my way. It's a busy main street, people walk up and down it all the time. I'm not even carrying anything heavy. It's a beautiful day out. Why would I want a ride??
...maybe after I went to the store and am toting 30 some poounds of assorted vegetables, fruits and other edibles......

And it pisses me off. Seriously, there are (i am pretty confident of this fact, what with yale students and all) thousands of prettier girls in New Haven to hit on or offer rides to. Why do you need to hassle me? Can't he go find other girls to hassle?

Hasn't anyone ever been warned of the danger of faerie-redhead combinations?

well they should be.

Maybe rich is right. Maybe I am oblivious.
well, I guess that's my punishment for not wearing my glasses this morning. I can see much better 35 feet away.

I'm so far down, I'm beginning to breathe

I've been avoiding writing, actually it would probably be accurate to say I've been avoiding almost everything the past couple months. It's the delusion of thinking that somehow, if I just ignore the state of confusion I am in, maybe it will altogether disappear. I have a wry grin stored up for myself on that one. I know just how absurd it is to think that anything will right itself if just ignored for long enough.
It's fine. I'm confused. About almost everything you can be confused about.
And the only reason I am confused about any of it is because, like the silly human I am, I stubbornly refuse to admit that things can and will probably look vastly different than any sort of expectations my mind has conjured up. That is life. That is what it means to trust in something beyond your own plans, beyond your own humanity. Evidently I have issues with that little word and it's implications.
Trust.
Evidently most of us do.
And it seems to me, the more you cling to the things you want, the more you try to make things what you think they should be.......the more they evade you. We were never meant to be master over our lives in that sense. After all, you don't really get to choose whether you live or die. (some people chose when, unfortunately) And you didn't get to choose whether you were born. (yes, we were given free will, but there are some things we don't get to choose, only how we respond ...I'm not gonna get into that)
So I think maybe it's time to stop pushing so hard to 'figure things out'....maybe it was never about that. Maybe in the midst of feeling as though I don't know much of anything I am much closer to the truth than when I am arrogant enough to actually think I see half of what God is doing, or planning, or trying to get me to realize. Maybe this is the only place I really need to be. I don't have the slightest clue why I am where I'm at right now, I don't know how God is using it, and I don't really know what He is trying to teach me. And add to that a nice (or not so much) dose of pain.

But what I do know:

Regardless of what I see, what I'm going through, God remains who He is. And He has always been there, He's always been walking with me, trying to get me to hear his whisper and see his face. Nothing ever separates me from his love (because nothing can ever erase what Jesus has done) And I would rather have that one certainty and have everything else in mass chaos, than to be sure of everything else without it......
I will trade all my plans, all my expectations, all musings of how life should be; I will trade everything for one sure love.

an infant crying for the light

Somehow Tennyson always makes me feel better.....
and this is how I feel tonight:

Oh yet we trust that somehow good

Will be the final goal of ill,

To pangs of nature, sins of will,

Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;

That nothing walks with aimless feet;

That not one life shall be destroy’d,

Or cast as rubbish to the void,

When God hath made the pile complete;

That not a worm is cloven in vain;

That not a moth with vain desire

Is shrivell’d in a fruitless fire,

Or but subserves another’s gain.

Behold, we know not anything;

I can but trust that good shall fall

At last–far off–at last, to all,

And every winter change to spring.

So runs my dream: but what am I?

An infant crying in the night:

An infant crying for the light:

And with no language but a cry.

Elfland.....

"The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, o hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying."


still one of my favorite poems.........

daffodils

this is what i've been up to this afternoon.

I had the privilege of spotting my first bee a few minutes ago. (of 2009) Normally, I really don't like bees all that much. It just might have something to do with their ability to sting, who knows.
But today it made me grin.
And then I noticed the flowers, ......and even the dandelions looked cheerful. Who (or what) wouldn't be? I think it may actually be spring in the northeast....I'm stepping out intrepidly.
And hope of all hopes....maybe the trees will actually have leaves again soon.

time to go actually do some stuff and stop being lazy. although being lazy every once in awhile is oh so nice.

I know it's folly,
but right now I wish life were like a fairy-tale and only had happy endings.

Don't ignore it.

repeat.

"maybe it's easy right now for me to hurl questions at the sky. Maybe it's harder to wonder what God is doing with all of this. How will he possibly bring good, and how will we have any eyes left from crying to see it? Perhaps it is even crazier to trust that God is somehow making His love known, brightness in all this midnight black."
"and the one thing He always leaves me with is this: Hope"


.....maybe I should listen to myself more often.

the sunlight reflects in my tears

I know now my life is not my own.
.....That in whatever I do, I will only find joy...and life, in giving it for others.
It is what Jesus did for us.

At the end of the rainbow

I looked around my room this morning, and everything in it appeared to me as it was. I care for none of it. I am dying, (and also living)
the body is more than the clothing we put on
and life is more than what we eat or drink.

a really wise dude said that once. His name is Jesus.

It was all dust, and I had no desire to cling to any of it, no desire to try and shield myself with it.
If I am dying and living, I want a reason. And it's got nothing to do with stuff.

It has everything to do with knowing God, and learning to have a heart more like His.

what am I to do with dust and things that fade?

if you cry enough can you run out of tears?

i think i want to.
but can you love anyone or anything without tears?

i don't think it's possible. and i know in the end i don't want to be indifferent.