Have you ever had a sick heart? Anger really does take me apart, one piece at a time.
I'm not going to molder anymore because of these emotions. They go one way, my sense goes another way. This battle is classic!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Lucky Duck
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m stuck here in Bakersfield
Waiting to come and meet you
Waiting to give you a hug and show
You how much I’ve changed
And how much we can really like each other now.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m sitting here in my room
Thinking of all the books you’ve read
And recommended like the teacher you are.
I miss your brown hair and gray-blue eyes
Looking at me with fire, spunk and wit.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just a party girl in Bakersfield
Waiting for God to show up
And change everything around
So that life isn’t recognizable anymore
He’s already done that for you hasn’t he?
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m still awake at 4 a.m.
Sneezing and feeling good-naturedly jealous
Think about what it will be like
To see you in Newark, New Jersey
Shining with the gloss of a sun kiss.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just 21 years old
Still too young to have such an old soul
And maybe when I’m older and
Your children want to come live
With their naughty aunt I’ll be satisfied.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m thinking about how much
This whole world with all its bells
And jangles and whistles, with all its
Happiness and sadness and jealousies
Could never amount to how much I love you.
And I’m stuck here in Bakersfield
Waiting to come and meet you
Waiting to give you a hug and show
You how much I’ve changed
And how much we can really like each other now.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m sitting here in my room
Thinking of all the books you’ve read
And recommended like the teacher you are.
I miss your brown hair and gray-blue eyes
Looking at me with fire, spunk and wit.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just a party girl in Bakersfield
Waiting for God to show up
And change everything around
So that life isn’t recognizable anymore
He’s already done that for you hasn’t he?
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m still awake at 4 a.m.
Sneezing and feeling good-naturedly jealous
Think about what it will be like
To see you in Newark, New Jersey
Shining with the gloss of a sun kiss.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just 21 years old
Still too young to have such an old soul
And maybe when I’m older and
Your children want to come live
With their naughty aunt I’ll be satisfied.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m thinking about how much
This whole world with all its bells
And jangles and whistles, with all its
Happiness and sadness and jealousies
Could never amount to how much I love you.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Giddy. And a story based on real events.
As you probably gathered after reading the previous post (read the previous post.), I stayed up all night because of a combination of tea and a three hour nap....and coffee this morning. Bad combination for sleep, but I feel really wired and creative.
Moral of the story: Get significantly less sleep.
Here is another thing I wrote this morning because coffee makes me crazy.
Milk
This morning I woke up after not sleeping all night and decided to make some coffee. I got out the delicious Kona blend my dad keeps stashed in the cupboard and went about making myself some sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I stood there waiting for the coffee to stop dripping through the coffee maker while reading the newspaper. When the coffee was done I went to the fridge and got out the milk. And then, thankfully, I smelled it. Ew. The milk was safely drained down the sink, leaving me with a problem. No milk means no sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I’m not hardcore. I don’t look at waitresses with a steely eye and say “I’ll take my coffee black, like my women.” I prefer sweet things and, on occasion, fruity things.
The only thing to do when faced with a problem like this is to go and get more milk, of course. The fact that I’m going to get one gallon of milk at 6:30am doesn’t make any difference to me. Coffee is hot when it’s hot and needs milk when it needs milk. So, I got in my car and drove down to Vons, got some milk, and shuffled my way to the cashier. She scanned my milk and I paid for it. While I was paying for the delicious liquid I yawned. The cashier noticed my yawn and said, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I laughed with her, shrugged my shoulders, and for a minute I pretended that I was someone else.
I pretended that I was a mom with three kids under the age of seven who are all home for summer vacation. I woke up at 6am and stumbled to the kitchen, ready for some coffee to start the day. Soon my beloved, darling, exuberant children would be awake, begging me for Cap’n Crunch. I go to the refrigerator and look inside. No milk. NO MILK?! Code red! Code red! Alpha, bravo, lexus……whatever! There’s no way that we don’t have any milk. Husband unit just went to the store yesterday! How could he have forgotten to get milk? Screams are stifled, the urge to throw plates on the floor is curbed. I need milk, it’s as simple as that. There’s no way I’m going to sit in this kitchen drinking black coffee when my children wake up. There’s no way I’m going to tell them that they can’t have milk with their Cap’n Crunch this morning. There’s no way I’m going to ever let them know about the Milk Dilemma. I walk to my bedroom, tiptoeing past the little angels’ rooms. My husband is getting ready for work when I rush in and start throwing on random items of clothing. “What’s the matter?” he innocently asks, as if he hasn’t just sent me into homeland security alert mode. “You forgot the milk yesterday. I’m going to the store to get some. Don’t leave until I get back.” I say all of this quickly, while simultaneously grabbing my keys and rushing out the door, careful to make no noise as I walk down the hall and leave the house. As I exit the bedroom I can hear my husband say, “Well, what do you expect? It wasn’t on the list.” I drive down to Vons, listening to Norah Jones and telling my milk woes to the rearview mirror. I get to the cashier and yawn as I’m paying. She notices my yawn and says, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I don’t laugh; I just look at her very seriously and say, “With three kids, it’s essential to the well being of my household.” She grins and I grab the milk and go. When I get home Angel #1 is sitting on Daddy’s lap and he’s spoon-feeding her black coffee. I smile sweetly at him and say, “Don’t sabotage me twice in one day.”
Moral of the story: Get significantly less sleep.
Here is another thing I wrote this morning because coffee makes me crazy.
Milk
This morning I woke up after not sleeping all night and decided to make some coffee. I got out the delicious Kona blend my dad keeps stashed in the cupboard and went about making myself some sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I stood there waiting for the coffee to stop dripping through the coffee maker while reading the newspaper. When the coffee was done I went to the fridge and got out the milk. And then, thankfully, I smelled it. Ew. The milk was safely drained down the sink, leaving me with a problem. No milk means no sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I’m not hardcore. I don’t look at waitresses with a steely eye and say “I’ll take my coffee black, like my women.” I prefer sweet things and, on occasion, fruity things.
The only thing to do when faced with a problem like this is to go and get more milk, of course. The fact that I’m going to get one gallon of milk at 6:30am doesn’t make any difference to me. Coffee is hot when it’s hot and needs milk when it needs milk. So, I got in my car and drove down to Vons, got some milk, and shuffled my way to the cashier. She scanned my milk and I paid for it. While I was paying for the delicious liquid I yawned. The cashier noticed my yawn and said, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I laughed with her, shrugged my shoulders, and for a minute I pretended that I was someone else.
I pretended that I was a mom with three kids under the age of seven who are all home for summer vacation. I woke up at 6am and stumbled to the kitchen, ready for some coffee to start the day. Soon my beloved, darling, exuberant children would be awake, begging me for Cap’n Crunch. I go to the refrigerator and look inside. No milk. NO MILK?! Code red! Code red! Alpha, bravo, lexus……whatever! There’s no way that we don’t have any milk. Husband unit just went to the store yesterday! How could he have forgotten to get milk? Screams are stifled, the urge to throw plates on the floor is curbed. I need milk, it’s as simple as that. There’s no way I’m going to sit in this kitchen drinking black coffee when my children wake up. There’s no way I’m going to tell them that they can’t have milk with their Cap’n Crunch this morning. There’s no way I’m going to ever let them know about the Milk Dilemma. I walk to my bedroom, tiptoeing past the little angels’ rooms. My husband is getting ready for work when I rush in and start throwing on random items of clothing. “What’s the matter?” he innocently asks, as if he hasn’t just sent me into homeland security alert mode. “You forgot the milk yesterday. I’m going to the store to get some. Don’t leave until I get back.” I say all of this quickly, while simultaneously grabbing my keys and rushing out the door, careful to make no noise as I walk down the hall and leave the house. As I exit the bedroom I can hear my husband say, “Well, what do you expect? It wasn’t on the list.” I drive down to Vons, listening to Norah Jones and telling my milk woes to the rearview mirror. I get to the cashier and yawn as I’m paying. She notices my yawn and says, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I don’t laugh; I just look at her very seriously and say, “With three kids, it’s essential to the well being of my household.” She grins and I grab the milk and go. When I get home Angel #1 is sitting on Daddy’s lap and he’s spoon-feeding her black coffee. I smile sweetly at him and say, “Don’t sabotage me twice in one day.”
Sleep
Some nights you just don’t get any sleep. You stay awake. Sometimes you toss and turn. There are moments when you are still. A few times you look through the blinds and comment to yourself that it is getting light out there. For the first time in months you witness a sunrise. Suddenly 100 degree weather doesn’t seem so terrible on this July dawn. There’s water on the grass that looks like dew. Anyone who wasn’t awake to hear the sprinklers turn on and off at five this morning would think that water was dew. The newspaper is already on the driveway. Your bare shoulders are giving you the chills. Maybe getting back under the covers and closing your eyes would make sense. But so would drawing a bath and soaking for some minutes. Besides, when you close your eyes and lie in bed for an hour and sleep hasn’t come yet you start to think it might be better to just stay awake all night. Face it, some nights you just don’t get any sleep.
Now you’re looking out the window like a reverse voyeur. There’s an old man you’ve never seen before walking down the street. He’s looking around suspiciously, although you can’t imagine why. Your busybody neighbor who goes to sleep at 7 pm has been up for at least an hour. His son and business partner arrive in that white Ford Explorer. The exercisers are up and alert. These are people who have gotten reasonable amounts of sleep. They’ll go to work in two hours, after the shower, after the cereal, after Good Morning America. The street is silent. You wonder if it is cold outside. The weather is cold, if that word means anything at the beginning of July. You think about making some coffee. Because, let’s face it, some nights you just don’t get any sleep. Besides, you never were good at sleep anyway.
Now you’re looking out the window like a reverse voyeur. There’s an old man you’ve never seen before walking down the street. He’s looking around suspiciously, although you can’t imagine why. Your busybody neighbor who goes to sleep at 7 pm has been up for at least an hour. His son and business partner arrive in that white Ford Explorer. The exercisers are up and alert. These are people who have gotten reasonable amounts of sleep. They’ll go to work in two hours, after the shower, after the cereal, after Good Morning America. The street is silent. You wonder if it is cold outside. The weather is cold, if that word means anything at the beginning of July. You think about making some coffee. Because, let’s face it, some nights you just don’t get any sleep. Besides, you never were good at sleep anyway.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
One More Time
I'm not done for today.
You thought I was.
And you were wrong.
IN YOUR FACE.
:D Well, okay, not really in your face, but whatever. It's time for bed soon. I have to say this because I'm a big girl and I have things to do tomorrow and I have to get up early to do them.
Being big really, truly sucks big time. I was talking to my dad a week ago about how when you get to be an "adult" summer vacation isn't really that big of a deal, it's just another part of the year. It has stopped being magical, and the feeling I have about this is similar to the one I experienced when Christmas stopping being magical (True story, Christmas stopped being magical for me. But there's a happy ending, I realized it was way cooler to be with my family than to have a magical Christmas. Go me. [Today I was at my friend's house and there was another one of my friends there and he had on his computer desktop the following message. AWESOMENESS: When I get sad, I stop being sad and get awesome instead. True story.]) (Don't you enjoy how I started and ended that parenthetical remark with True story? True story. I'll stop now...) So what I'm trying to say is, summer ain't all it's cracked up to be anymore. Lame.
And also this:
Praying for strength is similar to praying for patience. If you'e just being cute and spiritual and don't really care about having patience or strength, then don't do it. Because it SUCKS. I have never been so plagued with thoughts that are the exact opposite of what I want to be thinking in my life. It's like they wont stop, and I don't know how to make them stop. Someone save me! Jesus, please, save me. I'm not being facetious...I'm really done with it. I would tell you what's going on, but I have one more thing to do before I do that. So you'll have to wait. Sorry.
That's all I've got, because it is midnight and that is my self-inflicted bedtime.
You thought I was.
And you were wrong.
IN YOUR FACE.
:D Well, okay, not really in your face, but whatever. It's time for bed soon. I have to say this because I'm a big girl and I have things to do tomorrow and I have to get up early to do them.
Being big really, truly sucks big time. I was talking to my dad a week ago about how when you get to be an "adult" summer vacation isn't really that big of a deal, it's just another part of the year. It has stopped being magical, and the feeling I have about this is similar to the one I experienced when Christmas stopping being magical (True story, Christmas stopped being magical for me. But there's a happy ending, I realized it was way cooler to be with my family than to have a magical Christmas. Go me. [Today I was at my friend's house and there was another one of my friends there and he had on his computer desktop the following message. AWESOMENESS: When I get sad, I stop being sad and get awesome instead. True story.]) (Don't you enjoy how I started and ended that parenthetical remark with True story? True story. I'll stop now...) So what I'm trying to say is, summer ain't all it's cracked up to be anymore. Lame.
And also this:
Praying for strength is similar to praying for patience. If you'e just being cute and spiritual and don't really care about having patience or strength, then don't do it. Because it SUCKS. I have never been so plagued with thoughts that are the exact opposite of what I want to be thinking in my life. It's like they wont stop, and I don't know how to make them stop. Someone save me! Jesus, please, save me. I'm not being facetious...I'm really done with it. I would tell you what's going on, but I have one more thing to do before I do that. So you'll have to wait. Sorry.
That's all I've got, because it is midnight and that is my self-inflicted bedtime.
Eyes for Loopholes
My parents went on a semi-vacation on Thursday. It is only a semi-vacation because they're going to be doing more wedding planning than relaxing. At least, I think that's what is going to happen. I might be wrong. It's happened before.
Since they've been gone I've done many things, and I feel the need to record them there, because I'm bored (which hasn't really, truly happened since....high school I think) and I need someone to talk to. Blogger, you shall be my data dump receptacle. Yay!
My parents left Thursday night, right after I left to go to a Bible Study, er, book study. We were talking about God, but I don't think Bibles were involved. Which is strange. But whatever. Perhaps we had hidden His word in our hearts. (hahahaha, bad Christian joke!) I didn't want to leave the book study because I knew that when I came home I would be all alone in this big house. By myself. With no one to talk to. Except for a cat, but Madeline isn't much of a conversationalist. She's more of a manipulator really. Pet me or your hand will experience pain beyond anything you can imagine. But I came home because everyone else left the book study and I didn't want to just glom onto the Turner family and become their fourth daughter. And so I was bored.
And then Friday rolled around. I was really excited because that evening there was a movie night planned at CCR, which meant that there would be PEOPLE to be with! Hurray! So I made snickerdoodles, because baking is what I do best (unless it's chocolate chip cookies. I can't get those right). I made a double recipe, because no one wants to run out of snickerdoodles. The janitor and custodian for my church live right next door to the buildings and are usually the ones who open and close at events. But this week they're also on vacation, so the task of opening and closing was left up to me. I packed up my snickdoodles, a few games, a couple of Disney movies, and headed over to the church. When I got there the time was 7:45. I opened everything up and waiting until 8, the designated time for people to start showing up, ready for some sweet snickerdoodle lovin'! But no one came. 8:10--No one here. 8:15--No one here. 8:20--No one here. At 8:30 I packed all my goodies up and started my car. Thank you faithful church members for showing up. I appreciate driving 15 minutes to the church and baking five dozen snickerdoodles for ghosts. Yay!
So is church ministry. Everyone gets really excited about a certain event, but then forget about it when the event is supposed to happen. Unless a specific person is in charge and calling everyone reminding them to come, chances are the event is going to flop. No biggie. God is love. He gives me love so that I can love you. :D
Now I had five dozen snickeroodles and no one to share them with. I most certainly didn't want to go home. I also had a problem because the people that I normally would call up to share snickerdoodles with were either at Riverlakes with their youth, or at Niles doing some really cool water night. (I was kind of bummed that I had to miss out on that. And let's be honest, I was even more bummed when no one showed up the movie night and I realized that I might have been able to go. But then, as I said before, so is ministry. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way. How else would God teach me patience and unconditional love if everything went as planned all the time?) So I called up a friend who I thought might be home and asked if she wanted some snickerdoodles. She did....sort of. And as I was driving toward her house I thought to myself: I can be the snickerdoodle fairy! (As Kayti told me when I got to her house, I was performing random acts of baking. Which is cute. Kayti is always coming up with hilarious and cute things like that.) I dropped off some snickerdoodles and looked through my phone and realized that I don't have very many phone numbers. Lame. But I did have Natalie's, whcih was fortunate, because I got to spend a lot of time with her and her precious puppy who I love. I love Natalie too. Really, I do. That was a good night as far as loneliness goes. I wasn't lonely, and that was good for me.
And Natalie let me borrow her copy of The Princess Bride, which came in handy the next day.
On Saturday, I read The Princess Bride. The whole thing, all day long, on various couches and chairs in my house. Sometimes I stood up and read it, because the fencing scenes are just too good to take sitting down.
There was one point in the day when I went over to Berean to find some books about games for groups. I also found some books that thoroughly convicted me. (Thank you God.)
Here's the truth: I don't ever feel like I'm cut out for youth ministry. I love it, but I don't know why, because most of what I have to do scares the living daylights out of me. Go talk to the kids about Jesus, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go talk to their parents about camp, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go show them how much you love Jesus, and FREAK OUT before, and while you do it. Those are only just three of the many situations I find myself freaking out about. But really, there's no go reason to freak out. Because of God. Because God knows my weak heart and will inside and out, and he also knows that my heart and will have nothing to do with youth learning about how much Jesus loves them. God lifts me up, I don't lift Him up. But I have to stop clutching at hand holds and allow him to keep lifting me up higher and higher and higher.
That is such a hard lesson for me to grasp and get into my head. It has taken me awhile to be very vulnerable with God, to come to the point where I just flat out admitted to Him what I know I'm bad at and the things that I don't measure up to. And apparently God has enough power and greatness to be strong in my stupidity and silliness. I don't know how He does this with my mess, but He does. He's amazing. He can do anything. He can resurrect Himself. I don't think I need to be worrying about anything if He can resurrect Hemself from death.
I've been thinking about loneliness for the past two days (for obvious reasons...) and I know that I need other people so desparately. I can't live alone, I would become ridiculous. If I were single for the rest of my life, I'd still have to have a roommate or something. Living alone is the most awful thing on the planet. Sure, it seems nice when you think about it, especially when everyone you live with is getting on your nerves. But ultimately the affirmation that people CAN live with you is nice to get everyday. Sometimes we don't always want to live with each other, but the ability to live with one another is great! I don't know how I got to this point of loving people and community so much. God must have changed my mind, because when I was in high school I hated being around people. I'm done with that now. My two days alone have shown me that.
On the flip side, when I am lonely I talk to God a lot more. There is more time to think about prayer and people who have needs I can meet when I am alone for a little while.
To cap off this rambly message here are some things God has been teaching me today, yesterday, and the day before that:
a) I need God so much. My life is silliness without Him. He makes me feel so content and satisfied and....good.
b) Jesus' resurrection is SO important! And so is His death. Growing up in church teaches you to take his death and resurrection for granted. If Jesus wasn't resurrected, then His death means nothing; He's just another guy that died a cruel death. But He's alive, death is conquered, there is no more fear. :D Makes me bubbly inside.
c) God must have all of me. Fears, weaknesses, desires, money, vulnerability, plans, obedience, EVERYTHING. Freaky isn't it? Yes. Yes it is.
Since they've been gone I've done many things, and I feel the need to record them there, because I'm bored (which hasn't really, truly happened since....high school I think) and I need someone to talk to. Blogger, you shall be my data dump receptacle. Yay!
My parents left Thursday night, right after I left to go to a Bible Study, er, book study. We were talking about God, but I don't think Bibles were involved. Which is strange. But whatever. Perhaps we had hidden His word in our hearts. (hahahaha, bad Christian joke!) I didn't want to leave the book study because I knew that when I came home I would be all alone in this big house. By myself. With no one to talk to. Except for a cat, but Madeline isn't much of a conversationalist. She's more of a manipulator really. Pet me or your hand will experience pain beyond anything you can imagine. But I came home because everyone else left the book study and I didn't want to just glom onto the Turner family and become their fourth daughter. And so I was bored.
And then Friday rolled around. I was really excited because that evening there was a movie night planned at CCR, which meant that there would be PEOPLE to be with! Hurray! So I made snickerdoodles, because baking is what I do best (unless it's chocolate chip cookies. I can't get those right). I made a double recipe, because no one wants to run out of snickerdoodles. The janitor and custodian for my church live right next door to the buildings and are usually the ones who open and close at events. But this week they're also on vacation, so the task of opening and closing was left up to me. I packed up my snickdoodles, a few games, a couple of Disney movies, and headed over to the church. When I got there the time was 7:45. I opened everything up and waiting until 8, the designated time for people to start showing up, ready for some sweet snickerdoodle lovin'! But no one came. 8:10--No one here. 8:15--No one here. 8:20--No one here. At 8:30 I packed all my goodies up and started my car. Thank you faithful church members for showing up. I appreciate driving 15 minutes to the church and baking five dozen snickerdoodles for ghosts. Yay!
So is church ministry. Everyone gets really excited about a certain event, but then forget about it when the event is supposed to happen. Unless a specific person is in charge and calling everyone reminding them to come, chances are the event is going to flop. No biggie. God is love. He gives me love so that I can love you. :D
Now I had five dozen snickeroodles and no one to share them with. I most certainly didn't want to go home. I also had a problem because the people that I normally would call up to share snickerdoodles with were either at Riverlakes with their youth, or at Niles doing some really cool water night. (I was kind of bummed that I had to miss out on that. And let's be honest, I was even more bummed when no one showed up the movie night and I realized that I might have been able to go. But then, as I said before, so is ministry. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way. How else would God teach me patience and unconditional love if everything went as planned all the time?) So I called up a friend who I thought might be home and asked if she wanted some snickerdoodles. She did....sort of. And as I was driving toward her house I thought to myself: I can be the snickerdoodle fairy! (As Kayti told me when I got to her house, I was performing random acts of baking. Which is cute. Kayti is always coming up with hilarious and cute things like that.) I dropped off some snickerdoodles and looked through my phone and realized that I don't have very many phone numbers. Lame. But I did have Natalie's, whcih was fortunate, because I got to spend a lot of time with her and her precious puppy who I love. I love Natalie too. Really, I do. That was a good night as far as loneliness goes. I wasn't lonely, and that was good for me.
And Natalie let me borrow her copy of The Princess Bride, which came in handy the next day.
On Saturday, I read The Princess Bride. The whole thing, all day long, on various couches and chairs in my house. Sometimes I stood up and read it, because the fencing scenes are just too good to take sitting down.
There was one point in the day when I went over to Berean to find some books about games for groups. I also found some books that thoroughly convicted me. (Thank you God.)
Here's the truth: I don't ever feel like I'm cut out for youth ministry. I love it, but I don't know why, because most of what I have to do scares the living daylights out of me. Go talk to the kids about Jesus, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go talk to their parents about camp, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go show them how much you love Jesus, and FREAK OUT before, and while you do it. Those are only just three of the many situations I find myself freaking out about. But really, there's no go reason to freak out. Because of God. Because God knows my weak heart and will inside and out, and he also knows that my heart and will have nothing to do with youth learning about how much Jesus loves them. God lifts me up, I don't lift Him up. But I have to stop clutching at hand holds and allow him to keep lifting me up higher and higher and higher.
That is such a hard lesson for me to grasp and get into my head. It has taken me awhile to be very vulnerable with God, to come to the point where I just flat out admitted to Him what I know I'm bad at and the things that I don't measure up to. And apparently God has enough power and greatness to be strong in my stupidity and silliness. I don't know how He does this with my mess, but He does. He's amazing. He can do anything. He can resurrect Himself. I don't think I need to be worrying about anything if He can resurrect Hemself from death.
I've been thinking about loneliness for the past two days (for obvious reasons...) and I know that I need other people so desparately. I can't live alone, I would become ridiculous. If I were single for the rest of my life, I'd still have to have a roommate or something. Living alone is the most awful thing on the planet. Sure, it seems nice when you think about it, especially when everyone you live with is getting on your nerves. But ultimately the affirmation that people CAN live with you is nice to get everyday. Sometimes we don't always want to live with each other, but the ability to live with one another is great! I don't know how I got to this point of loving people and community so much. God must have changed my mind, because when I was in high school I hated being around people. I'm done with that now. My two days alone have shown me that.
On the flip side, when I am lonely I talk to God a lot more. There is more time to think about prayer and people who have needs I can meet when I am alone for a little while.
To cap off this rambly message here are some things God has been teaching me today, yesterday, and the day before that:
a) I need God so much. My life is silliness without Him. He makes me feel so content and satisfied and....good.
b) Jesus' resurrection is SO important! And so is His death. Growing up in church teaches you to take his death and resurrection for granted. If Jesus wasn't resurrected, then His death means nothing; He's just another guy that died a cruel death. But He's alive, death is conquered, there is no more fear. :D Makes me bubbly inside.
c) God must have all of me. Fears, weaknesses, desires, money, vulnerability, plans, obedience, EVERYTHING. Freaky isn't it? Yes. Yes it is.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Eyes
Then I took my own life and everything afterward was frightful, starting with Sylvester. He was there in my time after death, as if the words of Death Cab for Cutie songs are prophetic or something. There wasn't any sound. I don't think there was any color either. Just dark and needles pricking my skin, liquid coursing out of the holes that was too viscous to be blood. My whole body was shrinking, draining itself of--what exactly? I felt the streams coming out of my skin and could not grasp its wetness. Was it wet? Was it really liquid? Or was it more solid matter, or perhaps some gas close to its liquid form. I couldn't hold onto the streams coming out of me, my hands were becoming too small and shriveled to grasp. The smaller I got the more I realized I couldn't feel properly. My thoughts were nothing more than instincts. At one startling moment it became clear to me that I was being sapped of my energy, thoughts, dreams, experiences--in short, life. The streams that seeped from my pores drifted toward Sylvester. In his hands he held a clear glass jar, a number was inscribed on the side. He danced and jumped and twirled around, catching all of the wily streams in his glass jar. When there was nothing left of me but my eyes--which saw without recognizing--and he had gathered all the streams, he placed a cork topper on the jar and snapped his fingers. A shelf, covered with several similarly shaped and marked jars, appeared and he placed my jar on the shelf. Then he walked toward my eyes and scooped them up in his hand. Everything I knew was darkness, and it was not discomforting.
Waking up was a pain. Death had seemed so pleasant. Rest had been so near.
Waking up was a pain. Death had seemed so pleasant. Rest had been so near.
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