There are a number of things swirling around in there right now, mostly being stirred by some new Flyleaf songs I just got today while I was Christmas shopping. I was two weeks behind on photos this morning, but now I'm caught up, and I feel better about myself- the idea that I can and WILL finish this project is a good thought to me.
I was doing some rearranging on the walls of my room earlier this afternoon, and I thought back to when I moved in seventh grade. I remembered how I was so moved by the fact that my walls were empty and white. I think I may have cried over the loneliness I felt because I had taken down all of my pictures and notes to myself. I remembered thinking the walls seemed so much closer, being bare. I think I felt a strange sort of claustrophobia without the distractions I had created and hung to look at instead of what was really there- nothing.
I'm realizing as I type this that my life, over the last year, has been stripped one thing after another of its distractions and notes and pictures. The things I used to hide behind are long gone now, and it hurts to be out in the open. I'm scared to be this exposed when I refuse to be vulnerable. I'm coming to realize that at the end of the day, my walls are bare, and there is only me and the One who created me. Because when He looks at me, He doesn't see the distractions and notes and pictures I try to hide behind. He doesn't pay attention to the things I tremble behind instead of Him.
"and all we need now is love, we've been through enough. we can't run just cause we're scared. we've come this far- we're not giving up." -flyleaf
I've been searching for something that I didn't understand was already mine.
So I've found myself flirting with the idea of rejecting God over the last year. In November of last year my faith took the biggest single blow of my whole life. Since then it's been a slow, painful, confusing, sinful struggle back to God, back to trusting Him, believing in Him and just believing Him. Because of the aforementioned blow, I essentially fell apart- my friendships became divided, my schoolwork overwhelmed me to the point of leaving school, my faith life fell into decay. I realize now that one moment changed everything for me and nothing has been the same since. I'm still struggling to figure out the truth, to figure out what I want to live my life by, to figure out the kind of person I'm going to end up being on the other side of all this.
As I write this, I'm realizing that my "biggest single blow" moment is possibly my life's inciting incident- the disturbance in (what I once chose to believe was) my happy little Katie-bubble world that throws everything into an unfamiliar frenzy. I'm okay with adopting that moment as such. My best friend Elise explained to me once that people are like broken cars, and God needs to take apart everything piece by piece and lay it out- gut it completely- in order to rebuild and restore it. At the time I was not comforted by her words, but I think now it doesn't matter as much to me whether or not I'm comforted, because I think that's how it really is- and right now it's enough for me to just know that.
So much of me wants to turn my back on God. Mostly because it's really easy to do. It's a lot easier to just do things my way- well, easier to make the decision to do things my way, but my way is definitely not good for me in most cases. I know myself to be cowardly, full of excuses, fearful, irresponsible, selfish, immature, impure. I know that when I do things my way I only end up more hurt than before. And I think that for me to say I am equally as hurt by God isn't fair, or maybe isn't true rather, because I have been getting in the way of letting God teach me anything or heal me or love me. And that isn't His fault- that is a choice He has to respect because He gave me the choice to follow Him or not; He gave me free will.
I know that I have not sought God in my pain or confusion. I have not chosen Him over me in my weaknesses, in my struggles. I have not made the decision to trust Him, love Him, believe Him, rely on Him in my hurt and confusion and the frenzy that my soul has become. I've blamed Him for everything wrong in my life- every less-than-ideal circumstance I believed was His doing. And by allowing all of that untruth to become my truth, the lens I see Him through has become scratched and distorted, and He has become more and more a stranger to me. Worship songs have become more and more empty or bitter. Bible studies have become confusing and unsettling, and prayer has become an absurd divisive tool that leaves me feeling as though my friends are giving up reverent, loving prayers to no one. I have become a victim of myself. My hands have committed unspeakable acts, my thoughts brought forth destructive images and words. I have been destroying myself, each time becoming just a little more certain that God doesn't exist or at least that if He does, I do not love Him, but still feel a certain degree of self-loathing for what I know I'm doing to Him.
But I'm writing all of this because I want it to stop. I know me without God, without Jesus, without the Bible, without faith, and I am a miserable, sickened, angry, immature, blood-letting idolater. Without God, there is no point. Without God there is no goodness. Without God there is no hope of goodness- no hope that I can be a good thing to the world, to people, or to myself. I know that if I rejected God, it would be pretty much over for me. I don't know how much of a chance there would be of me going back to God if I rejected Him now. Abraham was promised crazy things- physically impossible things- yet Abraham believed God. Believed IN God, yes, but more importantly Abraham BELIEVED God. Not just that God could do impossibly awesome things, but that He would- because He promised He would. I can't say anything specific that God has promised me in my lifetime, but I know that He has promised me that I will share in His death and resurrection. He has saved me from the flames of hell- He has brought me from eternal death apart from God to eternal life with Him.
The second Adam and Eve sinned- that one moment- everything changed. Everything God intended and willed to be became subject to the law of sin and death. But the moment Jesus sacrificially died for every single person who has ever lived, everything we had ever done was covered in His blood- His wounds providing us with life. He conquered sin and death, so that we could become one with Him through the Holy Spirit, enabling us to participate in His resurrection with Him.
I think I'm finally starting to understand what being a Christian is about. Why people make the decision to love Him too. I'm starting to understand what it means to be a Christian. I'm starting to see why people praise Him, why people are able to change their lives around because of what He has done and will do because He loves us, because He created us, because we belong to Him, because we're HIS. It's been a long time since I've believed there was a point to it all, but I'm starting to see it again- starting to see that God has a plan, and I need to get with it. I need to get off the fence, pick a side, and stick to it. Because marriage is about sticking to it. And if Jesus is essentially asking me to marry Him, then I better start thinking about things in terms of marriage. What a great mystery He is. I've strayed and hurt Him, but He still loves me and wants more than anything to work it out. I can't out-sin His grace. He will always win. Love will always win.
It's nights like these I feel very alone. Not in the depressed sort of sad sense of aloneness, but more like I have been walking this earth for the last twenty two years alone, without my compliment. For some reason tonight I feel the ache that comes with the longing for love and commitment. I don't see even a wisp of promise here, in that regard. I can't think of anyone in my life right now who fits the bill, who could be a sort of warm blanket to my shivering soul.
Generally I'm afraid of commitment- mostly because I'm afraid of being committed to someone who maybe ought to belong to someone else. But tonight I can feel that there is someone missing. Part of me is afraid I'll go the rest of my life alone like this, with only loneliness as my faithful bridegroom. I guess I don't have a choice but to hope he's out there somewhere.
I really don't like to write sappy stuff like this. But. Tonight...I wish he were here. Tonight I wish there was a hug waiting for me, a hug bearing patience and encouragement- and a smile and a laugh selflessly extending comfort and love. Tonight I wish I belonged to the excitement of a new last name, to the promise of a tomorrow that could hold my hand and vow to always be by my side.
So, if you're out there- I'm thinking of you tonight.
I want to be in bed by 11, and it is 10:57, so I'll speed type my way through what I've been thinking about this week.
I've been reading Father Fiction by Don Miller, and though he doesn't expound on most of the ideas he brings up, it gets me thinking about my life. I've recently confessed to myself that I am immature. I don't like that word. But, it's the truth. I used to blame my behavior on my fear and lack of self-confidence- which is true too, but I think that even those areas would improve if I stopped being immature about the things I am immature about.
Also, I've discovered that I am exceedingly concerned about my own well-being. I don't think that means I'm selfish, but instead that I am always analyzing the role I play in any given situation or circumstance. I think that probably is good at a simple, fundamental level, but not good when I take it too far- so much so that I often am not conscious of the "big picture"- the picture wherein I have a very small and finite role that I should learn to take only as seriously as necessary (it's 11:02. better hurry this along.).
And, the stress and importance I place on "what could be" is overkill. I tend to idealize everything and long after the wrong things, or- long after the right things way too much...and then I freak myself out and give in to my fear of not being good enough to have what I long for. I succumb much too easily to fear- so much so that it pervades every square inch of my life, deeming it nearly impossible for me to feel successful... I am afraid to make the wrong decision, so I don't make any decisions. I do nothing, and so deceive myself into thinking I'm just being overly cautious when I'm really guaranteeing failure at EVERYTHING because I am too afraid to work hard (man- 11:09 i can be so long winded!).
All this to say, I ought to grow up now. I ought to practice self-control like my life depends on it, because in a way it does, and I ought to refuse my "need" to feed my sense of fear about everything. It's time I put my finger down and stop pointing it at the possible reasons for my circumstances and flaws. There's nothing left to do now but accept it, and move on.
Because that would be the mature thing to do.
I don't need to be afraid of what I make my obstacles appear to be. My fears are not bigger than me, and they are not bigger than my God. Despite everything that has happened, I need to remember that.
(it's 11:15- i always have so much more to say than i think i do!)
I remember where I was a year ago. Curled up on the couch, secretly wishing I could escape my own birthday party, escape the people, escape my life, escape time and circumstance. And a year later I can't say whether I'm much happier now.
I'm beginning to wonder if life isn't about happiness. I think I would be okay with that, but the problem is I don't know what life is about instead. It seems we're all chasing this idea of what it means to be happy, this idea of what it means to feel like everything is in its place, like everything is right, and we're in love with it all.
But honestly, things are never right. There are fleeting moments of pure beauty and joy, but I can't claim them as mine any more than I can create them. I can't keep them in a jar to save for later- they pass through my fingers as soon as they arrive. And the things that seem to stick to my soul like molasses are unfortunately the things I wish life did not consist of: confusion, hurt, misunderstanding, anger, jealousy, chaos, hate, fear, inadequacy, mistakes.
I find myself at this time in my life shying away from it all, sitting in my lost-ness, looking at my still feet, singing beneath my breath to people passing by, looking into their eyes only as long as I can bear to. I am scared to love. I find myself looking at my hands and asking them why they've done the terribly destructive things they've done. I sit quiet at His feet, too scared to ask Him or anyone else whether it's too late to still be innocent.
Is it too late to empty my jar of its bloody molasses and fill it instead with lightning and fireflies?
I got back today from spending two days in Duluth with my mom. She and I both agreed that while we planned to go we had our doubts that we would actually go. But we did, and the weather was beautiful and we saw a lot of the town I hadn't seen before. Because we went so late in the season, the trees were bare and the scenery wasn't as interesting, but there were a ton less tourists out and about, which made traveling much easier. And we got the room closest to the pool, which was nice too.
However, I can't say that I had a lot of fun. I didn't have an amazing time. I spent most of the trip being irritated by my mother's tendencies to point out every sign she sees, as if I'm five years old and don't have eyes to see for myself. I was constantly fighting her in my mind, fighting off her over-explanations for every tiny detail of everything that I already know about or didn't need to know in the first place. It was hard to be excited about anything when I felt like she was pointing out anything at all just so that she could get a positive reaction out of me. The whole time we were in Duluth, I felt like there was something keeping me from really enjoying myself there- from feeling like I was on vacation- from feeling like I wasn't at home. Sitting back in Sartell, I don't feel like I ever left. That's a very obnoxious feeling to feel when I paid a lot of money to go there.
It's definitely not lost on me that I have issues with my parents. I don't like sharing anything with them. I don't want them to be involved in anything because when I do I feel like it's no longer mine. They have this ability to control me and hold me back without even realizing it. They make me feel small without meaning to. I want to get away from them. They make me want to run. I feel like the only way I can have a life that feels like MINE is if I left; if they had no part in my life or at least very little.
Going on vacation with my mom made me realize that I feel very held back by my parents, that I have little happiness when I have to answer to them about what I do.
But, I guess it's okay for parents to just be parents. I don't have to get along with them. I don't have to agree with them about everything. The only struggle is convincing them that sometimes I know what I'm doing, and that sometimes they don't know everything. What an unfortunate struggle.
Feeling very discouraged tonight about all this. Aren't vacations supposed to recharge your batteries and restore your sense of sanity?
Since the last time I wrote anything on here, I kind of hit a speed bump. But I'm working through it. Still trying to figure myself out and figure God out. I don't know why I feel like "figuring it all out" is a prerequisite to be happy or being satisfied that, yes, I know exactly what I'm getting into. I wish it would work that way sometimes, but at the end of the day I'm glad it doesn't. I know I'll never figure it out.
I heard a line from a song today that was really cool- let me see if I can remember it... I think it was something like, "don't put your trust in walls, cause walls will only crush you when they fall." It's from a song called Be Here Now by Ray Lamontagne. So true. I struggle with that, with walls. I convince myself that I would be happiest if I could just block everybody else out- that yes, THEN I would be able to breathe and relax and just be me without feeling inherently wrong. What a crock, though eh? That's just a trap to keep me stuck in one place, to keep me from experiencing my life, from loving people, from falling in love, from having the things I'm afraid of but longing so very much to have. Interesting.
I've been kind of restless lately. It seems that whenever I start getting used to things, I feel like bailing. And yet I spend all that time trying to adjust and I complain every second of the way. Frankly, I make no sense. I think most of us don't. Still not sure about Colorado. CTI called me the other day and wants to know what my plans are. Who am I kidding, I have no plan!!!! I don't exactly feel like I'm waiting for direction or guidance...but more that what I should do would become suddenly very obvious and clear to me. That would be nice. Maybe the trip out to Colorado Springs in March will do me some good in that area. I hope so.
Anyway, Copeland is keeping me company today. It's raining like the dickens outside so I baked, and felt for the first time this fall that it is no longer summer. And I think it's very strange- that it's no longer summer. But now I'm realizing that summer was a long time ago, and there are people who still live there, who don't live here with me now. And I wonder if I understand what I did, if I realize that something could have happened. I left you behind, or we mutually left each other behind without officially saying so, and though I still don't agree with you, I hope you figure it out and I hope you're happier than I made you in July. No, I don't think I'll ever figure you out. I'm just sorry I made you so frustrated that you left and didn't want to come back. That being said, I can't say that I miss you. But there is pain in not speaking.
[is it any surprise that you feel so overrun when all this time you had no one to tell you how to love? and do you think it's unwise to go and break yourself on this one when all this time you didn't know love?]
The last week has been good. I've been thinking about a lot of different things- trying to figure out what I want to do and why. I'm coming to better understand who God is. And by that I mean, I'm figuring out that all the words I've used to describe God and all the things people have to say about Him, are just that- words. Empty words. I don't think any of it has ever meant anything to me because they were never my own words- never my own beliefs, but theirs. And, I've come to know that other people's opinions are hazardous to me- not that what they say is hazardous, but that what I do with their words is. I'm easily persuaded most times, and am constantly being trapped into thinking that everyone else's thoughts and opinions are more valid than mine. I hide behind what they have to say. Don Miller is helping me to realize who God is and that all the methods and formulas in Christianity and the church never originated from Jesus. He doesn't operate under step by step programs, but solely on love. I'm glad to hear that, because step by step programs make me nervous, especially when insisted upon by the church. I've never been someone who is interested in theology. I think that's because it reminds me of politics. I don't believe that people are meant to fit into hypotheses or theories or formulas, and I've never been an advocate for the easy answers, and especially the easy advice-givers. I get really upset when Christian authors write books that are essentially them giving you the keys to getting rid of some behavior or attitude through a step by step, chapter by chapter process. "Just do this or don't do that and you'll be redeemed." No. That's not how it works.
I know that I've been looking at God through the glasses of resentment and guilt. I've believed that He is angry with me, disappointed in me, not interested in me because I have not been living up to "Christian standards" or talking to Him much at all. I'm realizing now that that mindset is a trap. He only wants good for me. Only. He wants me to get better. He wants me to be healed from my mistakes. He wants me to stop ducking Him. Not because it's the "right" thing to do, but because He loves me. Don Miller was saying that He came to save sinners. He came TO save sinners. He didn't come to FIX sinners or make all of us into some kind of robot Christian who recites all the right answers. He came to SAVE. If I need to be saved from something, it means that I can't save myself- I need someone else who is outside of my problems to reach into the midst of it all and pull me out. He came to save, because He loves us. He came to save SINNERS- not the righteous. He didn't come so that He could save the good ones from the rest of us who just can't seem to get it right. He's not concerned about how the world sees us- that has never mattered to Him. He doesn't care what church we're attending or if we're attending at all- He only cares about our hearts, about being in a relationship with Him. He came TO SAVE SINNERS from an eternity wherein we cannot be in relationship with Him. He came to save us from an eternity devoid of Himself. He doesn't operate on formulas, but on relationships- on love. When He was walking around earth, that was all He did- build relationships, forgive, heal, touch people. He didn't go around telling them they needed to complete a checklist of things in order to be His follower. Jesus doesn't use paperwork- He doesn't need it. All He wants is our sincerity in loving Him.
On Friday night I talked to my friend Jimmy just briefly about how he was doing, and I was so surprised to hear him say he was lonely. For some reason that's been chasing me around a bit, and I was driving to my friend Lindsey's house last night, thinking about that and listening to Anberlin in my car- feeling strangely unnameable nostalgic emotions. I got out of the car and the sky was so clear- the stars speaking quietly down to me, like they did when Don Miller was nestled into the grass at a ranch in the northwest United States in his book Through Painted Deserts. And I cried. Right there in Lindsey's driveway, and then on her front step, and then at her doorbell- which I hesitated in ringing so I could try and compose myself. I didn't want to though. Those kind of things don't seem to catch up with me as much anymore, so when they do I kind of just want to ride them out.
It's so interesting how sometimes we can go years without clarity- go years living in doubt and uncertainty, and then for thirty seconds of complete silence there can be such complete understanding- the kind you feel in your bones- the kind that makes you cry at Cassiopeia and stand in the dark alone. It seems that I go months or years in total disarray and dismantlement and then- just one moment of sparkling GOOD, and the pieces of the road melt back together again, and the path becomes visible again.
We think we need such complete answers to our questions, don't we? When sometimes all we need is just a moment to catch our breath. Just a moment to stop asking, stop running, stop dodging, and just see the world for what it is- to see ourselves for who we are- to see God for who He really is, not who we have erroneously assumed He was. Sometimes it's so much more simple than we make it.
So, I won't lie- I can't get myself to understand that it's October. I have a feeling this month is going to go by fast and without me realizing it. Before I know it, it'll be my birthday and then Thanksgiving and then Christmas. And then I can start my new year-long project! I'm actually planning a few projects for 2011- one that is a daily thing, one that is a weekly thing...and in the end I'll have some artwork :D
Um, so...I'm seriously thinking about moving to Colorado in May. I just had to tell someone.
I had a good moment last night with God. One of those clarity moments, you know? He told me that it doesn't matter what I decide to do in the distant future- He doesn't care about that- He just cares about where my heart is at. He just cares about being with me. He doesn't care what I do or don't do for Him- He isn't impressed by that- He just wants me. I think I actually told God "kudos"...let me find it. It says, "And if You meant to do all this- if You meant to take me away from my friends and everything...I daresay kudos." That's a big step for me to say that, I'll have you know. But I did mean it. He knows what He's doing. There's a freedom in saying that to God- in recognizing that He's doing right in my life, even though it really really doesn't feel that way most times.
So there's that for now. I want to read more of Searching For God Knows What before bed. Gotta love that Don Miller.
I don't feel capable of change- real, genuine, honest change here. I only feel dominated and controlled and suppressed here. But then again, maybe I feel that way regardless of where I am, and the idea that I don't is the only thing keeping me from losing it- the only thing keeping me feeling like things CAN change, that things CAN be better, that I always have a choice.
But everything seems to come and go, to ebb and flow. And when the tide comes in I want to go out, but when the water slides back into the sea, I want to stand in the sand and whisper over my shoulder to the wind. Instead I sit on the shore, drowning at high tide and thirsty at low tide, sighing my discontent with sunburned shoulders and scavenging seabirds.
Hello weekend!! I never thought I'd see YOU again! It's been a long week, kids. With another long and possibly crazier week on the docket. I'm currently trying to form a general consensus on the new Anberlin CD, Dark is the Way Light is a Place. Bekah sent me a package and I got ring pops! The best thing about ring pops is that you can blog without having to put your delicious sucker down! Mmm. My mom's staring at me from the armchair, haha. She only WISHES she had a ring pop.
Anywho. The problem with working all day all week is that I can't get to the post office to send off birthday packages to my FOUR FRIENDS who all have birthdays this week. I may actually have to get up early and send them off before work tomorrow. Sigh. Only one more week and then it's October and my work schedule becomes much more manageable. Can't wait to have free time during the week!
It's weird not being in school. But not weird at the same time. Despite my ambivalence, I've been pondering school again. Should I go back? Where? For what? Should I finish my degree at SCSU or get a Bible degree at Oak Hills? Should I finish my degree at St. Scholastica and minor in photography? Should I major in photography online somewhere or go to Minneapolis? Or should I move to Colorado with Aimee in the spring and work at NavPress? Or should I save every cent I earn and do CTI in the summer or for a year? Or should I stay here, keep working at the pharmacy, keep trying to have my own life? Life should come with a manual.
I guess I left school because it became too much for me and ultimately I wasn't there for the academics. When people ask why I left I feel like I should be telling them that I'm taking a break to figure things out. But to be honest, I haven't figured much out yet. If anything, I deal with the same pattern of self-destruction here just as much as I did at school. I think God "took" school from me because it was something I hid behind- it was something that I used as an excuse to not make big decisions. I wanted to rest in the security of knowing I would be there and my friends would be too. Not being in school does make certain things more apparent to me, but my manner of dealing with things hasn't changed.
I was in church this morning. An unredeemed sinner, sitting there anonymously- unwilling to engage with the people around me. I know I am a sickness to myself. I know I purposely sit in my sin, in my anger and immaturity. I know that every bit of me expects God to do all the work. I know that if I change my family will think I'm crazy- if I let God radically change my life like He's supposed to and wants to, that my parents won't support me in it. They try to be patient with me. But part of me feels like they're waiting for me to come around and just settle with the kind of life they have- the safe kind of no-risks life that also reaps no rewards. Part of me would love to move to Colorado, to live my own life and let God become the kind of thing in my life that changes others when they meet me. I've always felt like God set me apart to do or be something important, something big, something great- and I'm wondering now if that has nothing whatsoever to do with my physical life. Not that I would become great or successful in my parents' eyes, but that I would become a successful, healthy person who doesn't just believe in Jesus, but who relentlessly loves- really, truly loves- Jesus. Isn't that the first commandment? Isn't that what He seems to be most concerned about?
The problem is, I'm much more comfortable with a contract-like business relationship. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it" kind of thing- a "take notes and pass tests" kind of thing. But I think He's much less concerned with any of that when He knows that we do it out of duty and not love. If my heart is not engaged, my actions don't really mean anything. However, I am an all-or-nothing kind of person, an extremist. I don't like middleground- it's too complicated and hard to catch. And I think that lately I've landed on the side of nothing, and I prefer to take time for granted. I don't know what it will take to change. Right now I feel too much pressure to do everything and nothing. I don't know how to just live, you know?
I was really hoping to see you today. I have this deep feeling that we would be very good friends. I had a lot of hope that seeing you would put things in perspective for me, that meeting you would somehow bring me clarity and sanity. I wanted to feel the golden warmth of your smile and dance in your cloudy tears. I wish I could be with you. But you've been in my thoughts today- your color and atmosphere whirling new ideas and new creativity in me. Thank you for that. Even across the country, you have a hand in my life here. I don't know why I believe that experiencing you would change me, why I feel like seeing the color of your grass for a while would make me appreciate the color of my grass here upon returning. I would have gotten on a plane for you. Maybe I will someday.
So, it's suicide prevention week. For the record, I'm really mad at Suicide. He takes too many lives- one life every 40 seconds. In the last year, I can think of at least six people who have either attempted or committed suicide- two of which include my cousin and my friend. I remember the night I talked to my cousin over facebook chat. He said he was coming up to St. Cloud that weekend to say goodbye to all of the cousins, and he said he really wanted to see me one last time before he killed himself. I can honestly say that I have never had a scarier conversation in my life. I mentioned it to my counselor the next day and she told me that if someone who wants to commit suicide tells people about it, it's because they don't really want to go through with it. We got my cousin help and he is still alive and doing better.
I'm having a hard time talking about this. It's always easier to just give sterile facts or explanations. I think that's why people sometimes feel like suicide is the only way out. They're tired of fighting, tired of coping, tired of being the friend who needs help all the time, tired of trying to explain, and they think it would be easier if they just got out. I feel so much for these people because I have been in that cage. I've experienced that kind of darkness and I still am fighting it. It's so difficult to believe that things can get better when you're in a place of complete hopelessness.
For me, feeling understood is helpful. Being understood is the most comforting thing to me, and that's what I try to do for people in my life who are struggling. Helping my friend and my cousin has influenced me a lot and gives me hope that suicide really is preventable. I'm passionate about hurting people because I'm hurting too, and I think that we all need to stick together and help each other through the dark times. If I hadn't seen the extent that people will go to stop the pain, I wouldn't have discovered the firm ground that hope can be. Help isn't easy, but I think that when you come clean with the intention of getting help, the people in your life will come out of the woodwork to do whatever they can for you. People have always been scary to me, but I find that they can be the most compassionate when I least expect it.
If you're reading this- yes, you- I need you to remember this:
Life is valuable. Hope is real. Darkness yields to the light. Always.
If you can't believe that right now, that's okay. But trust me- it will get better. Being that I've struggled myself, I wouldn't lie to you. And I'm not. Get help.
This morning I was actually crazy enough to get up and shower before work- that never happens, and I certainly surprised myself. And when I was at work, I only almost broke down into tears ONCE! It was a pretty good day. And now that I have a brand new tire on my cruiser, I can actually go places and do things. Yesss! I'm watching tennis tonight. I'm currently watching the Nadal/Istomin match. I can't decide who I'm rooting for. Nadal always wins and is obviously good, so naturally...I would root for the underdog. Also, said underdog reminds me of Michael who is in China for the next six months.
Anywho, pretty content to be home not doing much tonight. I just felt like blogging to let the cybernet world know the last couple days have been a little better. Work hasn't been quite as rough on me I think, and I'm realizing just how substantial an effect work has on me. To work somewhere for two months without feeling successful in it is brutal. I'd like to have a job I'm good at. I'd be much happier, I think.
Nevertheless, the time's coming when I have to be social again. And I'm scared. I want to make new friends and I want to have more to my life than just a sucky job, but honestly- making new friends is so much more scary than working a job I think I might get fired from eventually. At least after work I can just go home. But people? A much trickier situation. I don't know if I'm ready to jump back into friendship again. It's always easier to resist change.
My grandma is dying. I don't know why, but I've always thought that people who get really upset over a grandparent dying are kind of...wussy. And I think for me, it's less that SHE's dying and more that she's DYING. You know? It's mostly that she KNOWS she's dying...and can do nothing about it at this point. I feel bad because she still wants to fight- her spirit still wants to fight to stay alive but her body isn't strong enough; her body is too old now to endure chemo or surgery. I'm sad that her days are tangibly numbered. I mourn the fact that she has to know that each day that passes brings her one day closer to leaving for good.
The way my mom has described her lately though makes me more positive about death. My grandma has been giving away her things and making her plans, you know, and to me it almost seems like she's- well, just LEAVING. She's giving away her things to people she cares about because she can't take them with her- as if she's going somewhere else and isn't coming back. But where she's going has this sense of "vacation" sort of rest attached to it- with the additional hope of seeing her loved ones on the other side, who have been waiting to see her since they left us all years earlier. When death becomes more like vacation it isn't so scary I think.
I've always been terrified of death. Terrified. Mostly because I cannot understand it. God and death- the two most powerful forces on earth are the two things I cannot wrap my mind around. Death continues to confound me the closer it comes to my family, but I'm finding that with each relative that passes, cemeteries become more friendly to me, and heaven seems even more inviting and possible to know that there are precious people like my grandparents hanging out up there.
So anyway, there's that. I typically don't talk about when my grandparents stop doing well, so here's my attempt at speaking out in spite of myself and my dang introvertedness. Excuse me now, I must get back to my tennis game. ;)
I haven't been writing much and I need to get back into the habit of it. I think I stopped because I have nothing to write about except for complaints, and well- even complainers get tired of complaining.
I have so been in the mood to travel lately. I think it's because I'm used to not being in St. Cloud at this time of year. As August rolls over into September I keep feeling like I need to go somewhere because I've very much liked leaving home after three months of summer. The fact remains, I want to road trip so bad. Maybe once I get a new tire I'll be able to go places and do things. I'm a little annoyed that my left rear tire finally blew yesterday, but I'm glad that it means I can get a new one- which means I can finally get out of St. Cloud- which means I really AM visiting Morris on the 15th :D I'm excited.
That's probably enough for now. I have to get up early tomorrow for work and I'm so tired already because I didn't sleep well last night. I need to take a great many pictures tomorrow- I am so behind and I HAVE to get caught up before September starts. Oh motivation, where have you evaporated to??
I don't know why it's a foreign thing- why it seems new to me to picture Jesus looking at me and saying "walk with Me..." I think I have lived my christian life as if I expected God to walk with ME- as if He didn't before.
"I run for dear life to God, I'll never regret it." -psalm 70:1
I want a deep lasting love...the kind Bruchko and the Motilones talked about...the kind Classic Crime are floating around in this song. I feel like there's so much missing in my life and me and my family keep trying to find something, keep searching for something we don't know. Why do I search for something I have? Do I really have it if I'm running around frantically trying to find it somewhere else- anywhere else?
There is a need for the real thing. The real You I keep hiding from and running around. For some reason I feel like I can't bear You- I can't handle You and I'm scared to let You really change my life and me. I'm afraid to let go of me. I'm afraid to be totally Yours. I'm afraid to change. I'm afraid to have all of You. Maybe it's a control thing. I need help finding You again, or finding You for the first real time. I'm realizing that my relationship with You never seems to stick- if I'm happy I love You and if I'm angry I hate You. If things go right I love You and love me, but if things go wrong I hate You and try to destroy me.
But all You want is to love me. All You want is me. Completely me. You want me to walk with You. You stand there, pleadingly, "walk with Me..." You can give me the kind of life I can't imagine living- the kind that matters, the kind I genuinely want to live. I can't stand this half-hearted relationship with You, and You can't either. I think we both want all or nothing. I feel like I have no love for You. I feel like if I really really loved You, I would want to spend time with You- I would crave that need everyday. I mean, let's look at my daydreams and how I imagine it would be to be in love- why do I feel like it shouldn't be like that with You? Have I ever taken You that seriously? I love me more than I have ever loved You. I want things to go my way. I want things selfishly from You and get so confused when You delay in giving them to me. My life isn't about You at all. It's only about me.
My life sucks and has been sucking because I choose myself repeatedly over You. When things go badly, when I suffer, I curse You instead of clinging to You for dear life, thinking it'll make me feel better but it never does. It hasn't worked. I don't want to waste another three years of my life hating You and being angry at everything You do or don't do. I think it's time I just start doing what You tell me to.
It isn't weak to change. It isn't weak even to be wrong. Humility isn't weakness. Why would it be weak to grow?
I keep skirting around the edge of us because I'm afraid. Relationships scare me- including this one. Being vulnerable is something pretty unfathomable to me in this time of life. And the choices I've been making have really been getting in the way of us too. I'm sure that's half the problem. I've been grieving You, Holy Spirit. I don't remember You anymore, after all this distance and fighting. I need to know You. Really know You.
I'll be honest. The attitude change thing has helped a lot the last few days, but looking at tomorrow...makes me want to cry and runaway. Despite the attitude change, I still don't want to do it. Not as often as I'll have to the next two weeks anyway. A week like last week I'll do. It makes me feel like such a complainer though, after reading Bruchko. He went through things I probably never will, and it makes me feel like the things I complain about and am upset about are stupid. I feel like I ought to be tougher. Working at the pharmacy isn't life or death, isn't hinging on the chance of contracting amoebic dysentery or intestinal worms or being injured in the jungle by five inch thorns or jaguars. I don't want to say that I feel like I shouldn't be there, because I don't know if that's true...it's really that I don't WANT to be there. I don't WANT to do it. And, I guess I don't want to have to work there. I want to do something I love. I want to believe that I have just as much of a pointed purpose for my life as Bruce Olson with the Motilones. I don't know why it has never felt like that for me, or for most people I know. I don't want to be numbed down enough to just get by, just do what I have to to pay the bills. I feel like in the modern world it's extremely difficult to do anything with pointed passion. I feel like I can't escape the modernity of life in the "real" world, whatever that actually means. I feel like I can't really live with all the demands of what it costs to possess such a life. That doesn't seem fair at all. It's all feeling more and more like a venus fly trap- like the walls are slowly moving in and before I realize that- yes- they ARE in fact moving in on me, it's too late to climb out.
That's not really how it is, is it?
It's really hard to see the sun through the clouds. It's easier to point at the dirt and say, "hey- what's with the dirt? that stuff isn't good for me and it hurts" than to see the skin beneath it and believe that it's still there and can be healthy again. We focus on the gross things, probably because we have a natural feeling of animosity toward anything we think isn't right- toward anything that hurts us or causes us pain. And being that at least half of us are "fixers", well, our attention is immediately guided to what needs fixing. For me, though, I tend to focus on it so hard that I forget there's anything else. Instead of fixing anything, I end up getting stuck in it- so much so that the dirt becomes reality and normalcy for me instead of the salve that is health and happiness. It's a brutal battle.
Bruchko may have battled sickness, fatigue, death, and outside threats, but I battle self-induced isolation, depression, anxiety, hopelessness. I guess this is the jungle I live in, and the people I need to reach may look differently and have different experiences and backgrounds, but they're not different from me deep down. Jesus loves us both the same. I may have to risk mental and spiritual sickness, fatigue, death, and outside threats when running to and from the jungle. It's going to suck. But I do know that, while it seems unlikely in the present and we doubt, God takes care of us. He looks after us and will protect us and guide us if we call on Him for help and trust. It's a different kind of jungle, but it is just that. A jungle.
On top of all that, I still need help. And that's okay.
Well. It's been rough since I last posted. Turns out the whole Portland thing makes my parents think I'm foolish. Yeah. Foolish. I just love how much they support and encourage me. So there goes that, Portland, I mean. Reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years is good though. It's a good book.
So I have a question. And I'm not being rhetorical. Is it foolish to think that a conference is what you need to be inspired to make necessary changes in your life? According to my dear old dad, it is. According to him, I already have everything I need to know inside me- everything I need to make changes, right in there hiding behind all the junk in the way. I think he's come to believe that because he's pretty much a recluse. In that kind of lifestyle, you HAVE to believe you have it all in there somewhere, because you don't give yourself another option, another place to find it.
This year has been especially hard for me. It took a retreat in the spring to jolt my heart back to life again- to spark enough clarity that I could really see the truth instead of blindly trying to hope for it. I honestly believe that I wouldn't have gotten out of the whole atheism thing if I hadn't gone to that retreat. I guess I'm worried that I'm in a similar state now, for different reasons- though the reasons feel the same as the other ones. I have the kind of mind that can only be interrupted by physical changes- things that physically happen- things that aren't the norm- things that are supposed to be special- things that are supposed to change you. Without them, I continue on in a haphazard kind of stumble. I need something to stop me. Because I'm almost incapable of stopping myself- when my emotions overtake me- when I reach my breaking point...it's all over. It only goes downhill from there, and usually it's the kind of downhill that you don't get skis for- the kind of downhill that is so sheer you can hardly keep your footing- the kind of downhill that has jagged rocks jutting up right where you have to put down your foot.
It's one thing to fall apart during school. It's another thing to fall apart in the "real world" where making excuses could cost you your job, and then your credit, and then your life. I thought there was pressure in school, but there's more out here. It's lonelier too. I don't know what I'm doing. Why I thought it would be better to leave. It seems that it isn't just school I can't handle, but life in general, too.
This is getting old. No one wants to hear me go on and on complaining about my life no matter how I try to change it. It isn't doing anyone else any good to read this. I don't know why I feel like I can't be one of those people who rise despite their adversity. So much of me either just wants to quit completely or do something amazing. All or nothing, apparently.
I asked God today why there couldn't be good things that are easy. If He could give me just one good thing I didn't have to kill myself to have. I don't think that's how it works though. I just wish everything wasn't a struggle. The fact that I struggle so much more than my friends makes me feel like a failure. Defective. Broken from birth. I don't want to see another counselor, even though I've been considering it. I don't want to try prescription drugs, even though I've been considering it.
I don't know what to do.
"Misery, though seemingly ridiculous, indicates life itself has the potential of meaning, and therefore pain itself must also have meaning." -Don Miller (paraphrase of Victor Frankl)
For the last three years I've been at the University of Minnesota Morris, studying English. It took me three years to figure out that I had no heart for being an academic, that I was there because I didn't know what else to do, because it was the safe option after high school and because none of my friends weren't going to college. I went for the experience, but I can't say I loved the experience I had. It was three years of heartache and confusion as I fought my way to the surface, to reality.
Now that I've decided that I won't be attending UMM for my final year and am home in Sartell for good, I've been doing a lot of thinking about my life. Maybe it's because I'm German, but I've always felt uncomfortable with wanting or needing things. I don't like to ask people for things, and it's taken a lot of brave introspection to get to the bottom of, well, my life and me.
I've always thought I was meant to do something important. I'm sure most people feel that way, but when I look at my family, I can't say the same for them. Part of me wants to be successful just to prove to them that it can be done- to show them that they can't give up, that there's hope and meaning and purpose. That trying doesn't mean failing.
I work in a pharmacy in town. I'm still new. I feel the impending sense of responsibility that comes with no longer being a trainee, and I have to say- I am dreading it. So much. I can honestly say I don't want to work there for the next five years or even tomorrow. I'm realizing- fully realizing- that I don't want to work a job that has no heart. I need something to put my heart in. I need to do something that matters.
This isn't what I want my life to look like, and it's killing me. For most of my life I've stepped back from the spotlight. I've listened to my family tell me I can't; I've let them talk me down from every inspired idea I've ever had. I've let them convince me that having a stable job (whether I like or want the job or not) is more important than anything else, no matter how amazing the other opportunities. They've taught me to always have a plan, and well- for the first time this spring, I had none. And I still don't.
I feel like it's all coming down to it now. I need to start making decisions, making choices, getting excited about things without allowing outside influences to talk me down. I don't want to be talked down from the ledge of inspiration and hope anymore. I need to believe that I can live a life that isn't boring and safe and mediocre. I don't believe I've ever desired to be a mediocre person who does mediocre things. I want to show my family that there still is hope for living the kind of life they've always dreamed of living. I want to show them what it is to live.
If my life were a story and I was the author, I would write about a character who met with challenges and had enough bravery to not back down. She would be determined to make things happen and be kind to strangers. She would be like a pawn on the chessboard of her life, being moved where God instructed. She would work in a church, planning and organizing church events and retreats. She would play guitar in worship on Sundays and use her pictures to help promote the church. She would be a source of hope and comfort to those within the church who are hurting by making them realize that they are not alone and are not crazy because they don't look like the average joyful Christian. In her spare time she would write short stories and perfect her cooking skills, to the delight of her small group. She wouldn't be afraid. She wouldn't shrink back from blessings because she feels she doesn't deserve them. She wouldn't reject love because she doesn't understand it, but would turn for clarity to her Friend and Savior in trust and love.
Ultimately, I need a way out. I need to get out of the rut I've always been in. Risk breathing for the chance I might choke. I don't want to live like this anymore. The thing is, I'm finding that I have no idea how to go about living a new life. I'm used to having a plan, remember? A step-by-step guide would be nice.
I guess the closest thing to that would be this conference in Portland that Don Miller's putting on in September. I told my mom about it last night and I got the usual response. I think deep down my parents would rather I did nothing if it meant I risked nothing. Success doesn't come without risk, right? It would be ridiculous if I went, because I don't do things like fly to Portland for three days in the middle of my non-plan plan. But honestly, I've been thinking about it so much and it's been making me think even more about my life and where I want to be a year from now, or even a week from now. For me, Portland has become a sort of symbol of hope to me, that life can be more than it has been for me over these last 21 years. I have a lot of faith that Don Miller and his ideas about living a better story could really help me. I've been very shy this summer in asking God for things, but Portland is one thing I have directly asked Him for.
The thing is, this conference is expensive. The whole shindig would set me back at least $800 when you throw in airfare, hotel, registration, and meals. But- there's this contest. If I win, it's all free...which would solve my dilemma. AND I would get to travel on a plane for the first time, with a friend. I think I need this, or at least something like it. When I told my mom about it, she asked me if there was anything else I could do to get the same result that I would from the conference. I told her Don's book A Million Years in A Thousand Miles is kind of what he's basing it off of. She suggested I just read the rest of the book and leave it at that. I told her she was missing the point. I think my family, in general, is missing the point- and I don't want to miss the point of life anymore. This is one thing I don't want to let her talk me out of because I have so much hope that it could change the course of my life. With that kind of clarity hinging on this conference and this contest, I put my faith in the fact that God knows best. That I've entered the contest with a deeply prayerful, wounded, and in-need heart. I pray He would give me the direction I need to move forward in His plan by attending the Live A Better Story conference in Portland. I genuinely think that He has things to say to me there that I need to hear. I keep feeling more and more that I want to escape my current life, and I think an experience in Portland could help me gain new perspective and the tools to change my current life into something that is fulfilling, valuable, and important. For those of you reading this, I ask that you would pray with me for this event! If you want to know more about this conference, go here: www.donmilleris.com/conference
Also, here's a video about it: http://donmilleris.com/2010/07/15/win-a-trip-for-two-to-portland-for-the-living-a-better-story-seminar/
Don Miller is making me think today. Seriously think.
I thrive on being inspired. It picks me up off the ground enough to see what could be on the horizon, and gives me perspective on where I left my footsteps back on the ground. But, what a waste it would be to not act on such inspiration. Right? That's like being content with being in love with love versus being in love with a person who loves you back. What a great risk, life is. I've been content on yearning, on being inspired to inspiration, instead of being inspired to action. Inspiration moves me, but doesn't make me move. I guess I have yet to introduce myself to Courage, Inspiration's counterpart.
What am I willing to risk? What stakes would I raise to take Courage's hand and MOVE? What kind of life am I looking to live?
I'm getting better at admitting what I want without feeling bad or wrong about it. I need to be honest with myself if I'm going to do anything of great importance in my life.
I'm pulled in several different directions- between things like TWLOHA and authorship, photographer and musician, world traveler and homebody. There are a great many things I put value in.
I'm realizing that maybe it's time to grow out of old attitudes. The old ones that keep me back. I feel like shedding that skin. I feel like embracing new ideas, new possibilities, new opportunities.
Over the last couple of weeks, a few things have become more clear to me. One of them being that I'm the one holding myself back. I always fear what other people will think, but most of them really do believe that I can do what I dream of. I think I need to start believing them too. For me it keeps coming back to the whole walking on water thing. He can't make me get out of the boat. But He believes in me- He knows my potential and He knows what He can do with me if I let myself become someone He and I can both respect. Peter believed God could do anything, but didn't have that kind of faith in himself- that he could do miraculous things because God believed he could, because of his faith that Jesus wouldn't ask him to walk on the water if He wasn't God, if He wasn't in control, if He wasn't capable of catching Peter when he started to sink.
And in this moment, sitting on my bed, looking out the window, I can hear this small voice in my chest and feel the tears in my eyes as I say to God, "please, please, please, please, please..." and I watch a bat fly by in silhouette with a smile, "...ask me to come out to You on the water...I want to know what it is to live." The lamps in the room smile their warm light on me, even to the corners of the room, as my 53 second song becomes louder than the water around my small boat.
I watched 500 Days of Summer. I'm a bit surprised that I liked the concept behind it. I guess for me it's kind of summarized in this song from the score of the movie, called Train Ride Home (because it plays during a scene in which the characters are, ahem, riding the train home) by Mychael Danna and Rob Simonsen. It's only 53 seconds long. But I think it sort of embodies, to me, what the movie it about.
It's about what I love: inspiration. It starts on a blank canvas of quiet sounds, and builds with the piano and strings into something uplifting and hopeful. It lets you see into something that you couldn't see before, and then- it ends.
As I go along in life, I'm realizing that I'm starting to measure the time passing in years. I look at things and want to parenthesize everything into segments of organized and logical time. But life isn't meant to be measures that way- time is just how we keep track of it, like ledger lines. This 53 second song is an idea that encompasses the whole movie- 500 days. I'm thinking that maybe there are moments in my life- only brief, passing moments, that encompass my life to date. Maybe there are brief less-than-a-minute melodies floating in and out of the years I anally keep track of. I think those melodies are important, and I think that maybe I should be writing them down.
He sketched skylines. He took what he saw and put it down on paper. He created and moved. He used his heart- poured everything into what he believed was true. But isn't it the case that sometimes, no matter how badly we want something to work...it just isn't meant to? It seems out of place and unexpected for something to build so much and then just stop. I don't know why that's what I like about this movie, this 53 second song. The 500 day journey Tom went on with Summer were human, and some might say that in the end, it was all for nothing.
But there are melodies there in the bylines of the pictures we take. There are driving beats and thoughtful piano that belong to the moments we can't forget.
Maybe a 53 second song is worth 500 days of...yearning in the wrong direction, for the wrong person. Take the melody with you. Leave the rest.
It's been a rough twenty hours for me, I won't lie. Last night everything sort of hit the fan. I regretted the fact that I had started thinking about it, because once I've thought about it, there's no "unthinking" it. And usually, well, it tends to go downhill from there. Why does thinking have to be a healthy thing? Sometimes it feels like insanity.
Since being home from school this summer, I've managed to keep myself together okay. Yeah I've not slept well, eaten well, or socialized well, but if I ever did cry, it was only for a minute- my breakdowns were small and compact, usually fitting into the size of an eight measure line in a song on the radio. But last night...I don't know what happened. I just broke. It was good I guess. But, let me tell you, going to work broken is NOT ideal. I found myself crying before I was out of the house and before I walked into the building. I hate that.
The whole self-assessment thing is next I guess. I've established that I feel dead at my job. Now it's time to address the whole feeling-dead-all-the-time thing. Sometimes it's easier to not be honest with yourself. Sometimes it's just easier to long for something else completely and think that doing that something else will make all your problems go away. I think I might have potential though. To be great. I just feel rather shipwrecked now. Or, well... I guess I feel more like I'm stranded on an island. Like November was the storm and ship wrecking, and I've been treading water and directionlessly back stroking ever since.
Back to the self-assessing. Generally, I self-assess about every five minutes all day long. And generally, it's always floating around in the back of my mind waiting for a pointed voice. I've been saying a lot that I'm not in a good place to make, or even keep, friends. I might as well be on an island, with the way things are for me now- the way I'm choosing them to be. As silly as it sounds, watching the Bachelorette makes me realize that one of these days when I'm ready, I'll have to go out on a limb and take a chance on someone- take a chance at being happy. I'm looking forward to it. But. I'm not so good at limbs.
I feel distant from my friends. I never talk to them and when I do I find myself sugar coating and fluffing up the conversation with "oh well"s and "but that's okay"s, subconsciously and mutedly taking on their more positive, happy, attitude. I feel very different from them. It isn't difficult for them to be happy. As a consequence, I've been wondering if I should see a counselor. And I look at the drugs I package into bottles at work and wonder if they really work. I'm figuring out that I love blind inspiration because I don't feel like the usual me when I'm inspired. I don't feel like the blah sort of weighed-down me. I feel like, what I like to think is, the real me- the me I love being. Whoever said "just be yourself" didn't realize how impossible it can be for some of us, how complicated it can be.
I keep thinking there has to be a reason for all this.
I keep begging God that on the other side of this year, something truly amazing is waiting for me- something epic, something big- something that will make all of this worth it. Because the truth is, if I was promised that in a year I would have something awesome, I would work two unfulfilling jobs. But right now, I'm not promised that. Yet I have hope of something good because I have to. If I didn't, I couldn't do it.
Anyway. Look at me wandering through this blog. I never know what I have in mind to say when I start writing on here. Guess that's what happens when you let your thoughts off its leash.
I was thinking today at work that life is about finding within ourselves what it means to have freedom, to be free. Isn't that what we're all really after anyway? Half of the battles and conflicts we'll face in our lives will be breaking out of self (or not) imposed barriers. We all want to be around people who free us- people who give you a hand up and tell you not to be scared- people who dare you to draw outside the lines, to create, do, be- breathe in healthy things and breathe out unhealthy things. We need to be with people who want good things for us, people who mean us well.
The horrible thing is, there are some of us who function without those kinds of people- or even worse: without anyone at all. There are some of us who are frightened of people, even if they are good. Because, despite the fact that they want encouraging people in their lives, these timid people have been beaten and broken down, so much so that they would rather they risk nothing at all if it means they won't get hurt. Not everyone means the world well. It's sad that there are some of us, the hurting ones, who will decline and reject and self-preserve themselves into a lonely life-less life devoid of freedom, happiness, and love. They take their paranoia in stride and settle for captivity, coping, and loneliness.
Life is too short to fill our time with coping mechanisms, excuses to sit out, and chances not taken.
But I sure don't blame the hurting ones for doing just that. I will not judge them based on their actions or lack of actions. Because I'm one of them.
I used to think that life is supposed to look something like the "American Dream" ideal that it seems so many people are chasing after. But now I realize that the "American Dream" isn't the definition of "life". Life is not picture perfect- in fact, most people lives aren't very photogenic at all. A real life falls apart at the seams like cliffs crumbling into the ocean. A real life has issues and heartbreak and disappointment. And living is in there too somewhere. Living is those moments when there is panic and disorder and pain- and you stand there in the middle of that intersection and choose the last remaining street: continue. Living is when you are standing in the middle of the mess, and choose to take another step.
I think that step is more important and more powerful than any of the cliche moments that people associate with living- you know, the dancing-in-the-rain, jump-out-of-a-plane, midnight-spontaneity, "live-laugh-love" kind of living that most people seem to think is really important and worthwhile. I agree that those moments are awesome, but I would argue that they don't build character because there is no decision being made about your life, just you flitting around in a good mood. Life isn't about good moods- it's about fighting through the bad moods. It's about fighting off the cage in an attempt to find YOUR freedom. A fight has more life in its little finger than does a slow dance in the rain.
I love love LOVE how music makes me feel things. Adam Young of Owl City (who I feel a strange and imagined connection to because he's from Minnesota and also one of Jenessa's many famous friends) is releasing some of his previous work under the name Sky Sailing, and I, on a whim, pre-ordered it. Part of the deal was that they give you one song upfront, so that's what I'm listening to right now. It's called "Brielle". I love guitar. Ah, what refreshing greatness.
I like that music reassures me of who I am and how things are. It's awesome that you can literally hear the way things are for you in life. Does that make sense to anyone else? It isn't even necessarily about the lyrics... I love hearing a song and then thinking "that's me- right there- if my soul could sound like something, it would sound like that." I love it so much because some other person created that. It makes me feel less alone to think that somebody else's soul looks like mine from time to time. Pretty awesome.
I'm never afraid to get caught up in a song. Ever.
No matter how much I fall for a song, it doesn't harm me- it can only enhance my musical tastes, capacity for emotion, love of art, and need to experience. In the middle of a song, I'm not afraid. In the middle of a song, anything is possible and time passes unnoticed. I love that a song is a moment, not just four minutes and six seconds. Songs are home to me. Oh what a concept, a song.
Life seems containable when it's taken in dosages measured by moments. Maybe it's because I started working in a pharmacy this week that's causing me to think of it as a prescription- I can see it now; "take one moment daily" it says on the label, with a green sticker instructing me to take each moment with music and inspiration before noon.
It feels good for my heart to be stimulated. Like a deep, fresh breath of air, here I am. If you ever need to find me- this is where I'll be. This is where I'll be hiding, waiting for the coast to clear. Please don't be afraid to look.
It's funny to me at times that I have a blog. I read Ellie and Chelsea's blogs and, well, they have blogs because they're in stinkin COSTA RICA...and I have a blog because, well...? I guess it's important to write during the slumber-like seasons of transition. Everything is new and familiar at the same time, it's so strange. In some ways, everything deserves to be documented somehow.
I was talking to Abi the other day on the phone, which to be honest was something I felt myself resisting (I mean, come on, who actually TALKS to their friends anymore... oh, wait, is it just me?), but she was telling me about an encounter she had with her 5 year old sister. I guess Rory was saying that she hated herself, and Abi at first tried to comfort her or encourage her, but then proceeded to tell her that she was being selfish (what guts!) and directed Rory to think of 5 positive/good things about herself. And I guess by the time she got to the 5th thing, she was happier and grateful to Abi for helping her. It seems that self-discipline can get you out of the addicting quicksand that is self-pity.
I won't lie, I've never ever been good at self-discipline. Because of that, I make unnecessary excuses that I later feel guilty for, procrastinate, cut corners when possible, and become more hardened to positive change as the days go on. There are a lot of excuses I could make, but at the end of the day they don't really matter. I think what matters is just...trying to always be better- "better" as in my overall health. I don't take care of myself, and I think I need to stop living a sob story and start actually trying to change the way I live. Oh the power of Believe.
I've realized that so far this summer, I've been doing things I know I need to do, but my heart has been no where near it. I'm realizing that deep down I just want to fill a formula and not be engaged. I'm not interested in really making new friends- actual friends, so I just show up to events and laugh and smile and put on a friendly exterior. Deep down I know I'm scared to make friends. I'm scared of people. It seems that most times they end up hurting you, even the ones you're sure would never. I guess I'm still bitter. Getting hurt always turns me off to people. It's a lot easier to exist to people as a cardboard cut-out instead of as a living breathing person with a past and issues and real feelings. I like to feel like new people aren't going to ask me about any of that. I'd rather impress them with my politeness, ease in laughter, and quiet kindness. I'd rather them not ask me about school, about friends, about the depressed side of me that's tied to them both.
I don't know how to do things the right way. I want to think I do. I don't know how to look like or be the Christian girls you see running around serving people and God. I'm a little too insecure, I think. I hate that word. Insecure. Beth Moore's right, insecurity is a form of selfishness. I'm obsessed with figuring out how many ways I fall short. I used to be able to analyze a flaw of mine, or a period of hurt in my life, and then let it go and change accordingly. But now I find that I've omitted the second and most crucial step of that healing process. I'm good at acknowledging, but not good at changing. For some reason I want to feel stuck with me.
It's easier to not feel attached. I'm more comfortable being at a distance from everyone, even if that means I'm being left out. It doesn't matter to me as long as it's my choice. If I'm being left out by people who didn't use to leave me out- by people who I don't want to be left out by, well, then there's problems. Then they just make me feel worthless and discarded. But if I'm the one deciding to not be included...it's just a coping mechanism, and well, let's face it, I have my fair share of those.
Well, this hitting too close to my heart and I don't want to go any deeper, so I'll abruptly stop now, lest it become unbearably long and directionless.
Is this really what I want? Is this really the road I want to go down? I don't have to. If I don't want to, I don't have to. I can choose to believe that this is the bottom- I can choose to raise my hands despite the blood on them, despite my guilty sentence. I can choose to ask for help, I can choose to give it up. Right now can be the moment if I want it to be. I can throw in the dirty towel now if I want to, if I know what's good for me- if I'm interested in doing what is good for me. I don't have to be a slave to sin, and I don't have to live in a feeling of choice-less mania. "i swear to God we're going to get it right, if you lay your weapon down" Change can be possible...I have to believe that, despite how negatively I see myself. I'm redeemed and forgiven...but I never ever live that way. Will I continue to choose the self-destructive me just because I feel like it's the only thing I feel like I have left?
You've gotten rid of everything else...You've taken everything else out of my hands...and I see now that the last thing to go...is me. You want me too.
You're going to give me new things. New attitudes, new outlooks, new perspectives, new ideas, new hobbies, new friends, new talents, new gifts, new strengths, new goals, new ambition...new everything.
And there's nothing I can do about it. I can't do anything about how You work, how You love, why You're the way You are. My job is to just be obedient and hang in there for the ride.
I know I'm bad at keeping up my end of the bargain. I'm a messy Christian. Everything I touch turns to mess without You around. I don't understand anything, but I have to be okay with that.
I don't have to need them to be what You are. I don't have to need them to do everything they ought to. I don't need what I resort to.
I feel like I've been carrying around this stifled sense of unhappiness and passive aggressiveness since getting home. It's never a good thing when I'm choosing to have a lack of words. I'm good at disappearing when it seems convenient. It's easy for me to dodge the spotlight and dart away from attention when I want to be invisible. When I want to pretend like there's nothing wrong. And then on some level I resent those closest to me for not noticing. I'm so good at making things not easy. Simplicity just isn't quite my style, I guess. Intimacy terrifies me in some ways, and yet I am desperate for it. I don't have to be afraid of what I need. It's okay to want things. It's okay to make the right choices, even if they're difficult. It's okay to breathe and keep going. It's okay to do what makes me happy. It's okay to be happy. It's okay to let go- sometimes- when it means I'm not cutting people out of my life because it's easier and I don't want to get hurt. I don't have to wait to become my worst before I can become my best. Knowing the limits of my depravity is not more important than knowing the limitlessness of my potential.
You've taken things from me, but You've given me good things- You've given me good things. And I know I always try to rationalize Your goodness and capacity to give. Deep down I find it hard to believe that I can't deserve to be forgiven, that I can't deserve good things. I always try so hard to figure You out but I have yet to do it. All of these introductory words I've said aside, what I think is most important to say is:
I'm sorry. For someone who loathes herself, I am unusually good at putting my problems before You. Even though I hate that I have to keep starting over, I'm grateful that in times like this that is my only real option. After everything, I still am glad that I "bear that name".
ignore the negativity. they believe in me. i ought to.
you can rise to this challenge.
adopt new attitudes. they are a choice.
sometimes saying the words really can make you believe them.
don't hold on to things and don't grab for them. but hang on for the ride.
maybe it won't really be that bad. if it is: one breath at a time. you're stronger than you think.
do you do well to be angry? just calm down. it's okay even if it isn't.
why am i always trying to ignore You?
what would happen if i lived the way He calls me to? what if i pursued Him with reckless abandon?
this is your chance to start all over again.
you're not alone. and it's going to be okay.
reset.
So much of why I view the world the way I do is because of the chorus of thoughts parading through my brain without a filter. I think that maybe this summer I need to do some rearranging in there- clean it out and do what I can to organize and identify what is worth keeping and believing in and what is harmful to my well-being and self-efficacy. Slowing down my thoughts and giving them names and categories is challenging and tiresome, but I'm realizing that labeling my thoughts is the first step towards having a mental filter. I have a seriously monitored filter over what I choose to verbalize- I am psychotically attentive to what I say or don't say to my friends, but then I let the negativity run rampant in my mind without even the foundation of a filter in place to protect me from myself. I think I need to close the gap between the words I say to people and the words I say to myself. I didn't ever stop to think that "treat others as you want to be treated" was complicated for me. I treat other people as well as I can but I neglect to acknowledge any of my own good qualities. I treat others as real people but I don't have that much regard for myself. I treat other people the way I want to be treated, but I don't treat myself that way. Maybe that's not cool eh?
The thing is, I have to get myself under control. Because, well, I think frankly I've gotten out of hand in the last few years. If I don't keep it together, I think the end result could be bad. Being on the non-plan plan, I don't think I'll have too much structure or continuity to keep me in line. Hopefully during this strange time I can mellow out a little and learn some valuable things that I've just not been dealing with over the last three years. One thing at a time. I'm struggling with the fact that nothing ever seems right- even when we think we're in the right, we aren't even if it's in some small way. Human imperfection is just plain annoying. I don't like that lessons can be unlearned. I don't like that things don't stay dead. And right now, I don't really like people. I don't like that either. I don't like how I feel about things and the way I see things.
Despite all of that, I have a hard time changing and updating those things. Often I feel stuck with those attitudes. But, I'm over the fact that the way I feel about things overshadows the truth I know. That's too bad- it's time to be the master over my emotions instead of the other way around. I don't want to make excuses (no matter how seemingly legitimate) for not changing and sinking deeper into the sludge of my me-ness. I need to listen to the spider-silk sentences I listed above. They may seem weak enough for me to punch through but they're the ropes that are going to pull me out of the sinking sand. I need to get over the fact that I'm a mess. Because after all, who isn't? I will no longer choose to not be comforted. I will no longer choose excuses why the offered amount of comfort isn't enough. I'm not going to let the negative me continue to conquer the positive me. I won't do what I've been doing anymore.
And then...suddenly everything feels possible. I didn't know that possibility could equate to hope. I'm telling you it does. :)
Well. It's been a heck of a Junior year. I can't believe it's summer now and I'm done with school- not just for the next three months but possibly, probably for good. It's been an emotional few days for me, and now I find myself mostly mentally fried. It's so strange to not even give a thought to what the day after tomorrow could hold- it seems I only have the capacity to imagine that tomorrow is possible, which is pretty cool I guess. It's just strange to realize my perspective seems so unhinged when compared to how my friends have so many plans and so much of their schedule for the year planned out already. Being a planner by nature, I'd think it would be more difficult for me to not have a plan...but so far it's been pretty nice. I've been keeping myself busy unpacking and rearranging the elements of my life that didn't have places before in my room. I think accepting that I'm on the "non-plan plan" has really helped me a lot- not to say that God won't do things that will surprise me during this laid-back season of my life. I fully except that in another six months or a year, I'll find myself facing a number of fears to accept and enjoy happiness, peace, and health. I'm looking forward to that, but for now, my eyes aren't looking past tomorrow.
As for the last few days, and the last few months of life with my friends in Morris, I will try my best to get out what emotions are still looming in there. I don't think it hit me that I was officially leaving Morris and my friends for good until we were walking down the sidewalk outside of J4 after checking out. It wasn't until then that I realized that the dynamics of my friendships with my roommates and IVCFers would never be the same as it had been this year. I have never burst into tears before, but I did right then. So many amazing memories took place in that teeny apartment, with many amazing friends who are such blessings to me. I think that J4 will always be home to me in some regards. I may have endured many of the most difficult personal crises of my life to date in that apartment, but when I think of J4 I only think of hysterical laughter, spinach, Fit to Strip shenans, Bstuds, jam sessions, crispy granola, bubbles, rubber gloves, asian fire drills, fetuses, windex, inappropriate conversations, gossip girl marathons, dance parties, and heart-to-hearts about our fears and our lives. I can't believe I only lived with those girls for a school year. I'm horribly sad to not be living with them next year. I can't help but feel like I'll be missing out on something that I know to be amazing. I'll come back and visit, but I know it won't be like it was- and that, I daresay, is a tragedy. I love you all so so so much, you are my J4evers- Ellie, Pons, and JoJo. Thank you for putting up with my half-hearted stick-in-the-mud-ness. Thank you for the late-night talks and for being my family away from home. Thank you for being the joy of my life this school year.
As for other friends who have left and are leaving, I have missed you much and will miss you much. I didn't realize that I am horrible at goodbyes and the concept of saying goodbye until Bekah left last semester before Christmas break. I held it together until she was out the door and then I cried, surprising even myself. I'm fortunate to have seen her and Jenessa since then however. They both were there for me during the worst time of my life, and I thank you both for that. You both have been a comfort to me just because you were there and listened. I will never forget you two, my lovely sisters.
Also to Aimee, I know it never worked out for us to room together, but I've so enjoyed mentoring together and just hearing about your life and struggles. You're a beautiful person and I wish you luck with your last semester and move to Colorado in the winter. You're a keeper and I love you. To the wonderful Lyndsey- I know we haven't talked much this year, but I can't tell you how much of a blessing it was to be your roommate two years ago. When I think of you I can't help but be proud of who you are and what you've accomplished. THANK YOU FOR THE GUITAR. You're one of my absolute favorite people, and I feel like God hand picked you to be my roommate and friend. You are truly amazing and I will never forget your kindness, generosity, down-to-earth-ness, and willingness to stand up for me. I love you so.
As for the men of IVCF, well, I have to give a shout out or two. To Dan, for his earnestness and consideration. Thank you for being a brother and for being so helpful in IVCF- your hard work doesn't go unnoticed and neither does your heart. To Bbotz for his hugs and his friendliness. Every time you pray, you refer to the exact things I am struggling with- thank you for being a vessel for Jesus through your kindness and gentleness. To Jaws for his wisdom and insight. I've learned so much from you in Bstud and you have so much to say- keep saying it. I see so much of Him shining through you- thank you for your contagious passion. To Nolan, for his fun-loving nature and sturdy belief in God. You've helped me through so much- I know I wouldn't have made it through last year without you. Thank you for teaching me how to play guitar, for making me feel listened to, and for sharing your musical tastes, dreams, and heart with me over the last two years. You are such a dear friend to me.
If any of you ever need anything, please contact me. I don't want to lose touch with the people who have stuck by me and taught me so many things. I pray that you all would experience God's love and faithfulness during the year to come, and that you would trust Him in every circumstance and fear. I'll be praying for your safety in travel and in spirit, and for your willingness to obey God and love Him with every possible area of your life and heart. Thank you all for being there when I needed to feel like I wasn't alone. Thank you for filling my life with your specific you-ness that is so amazing. You've all been a blessing to me, and I think of you all as my brothers and sisters.
I don't know why God planned for me to leave Morris a year early after making such amazing friends, or why He thought it better I didn't ever know what it would be like to partake in a UMM graduation ceremony, but I have faith that even though He has nothing exact planned for me currently, He still does have a plan. I think this season of my life that I'm entering into ought to be dedicated specifically to Him, for realz this time. No one and nothing can be allowed to come between the importance I place on my relationship with God. I'm realizing that even what I do isn't as important as knowing who He is and who I am in Him. Love is all that matters. If you all think of it, pray for me to find a decent job and to put God first on my priority list. Thanks again for being a comfort to a hurting soul. I love you all so much. Stay sweet.
