today will better.
27.3.12
26.3.12
spent
the drive home was all nausea and headache.
it was tiredness and dismay.
it was fury and fraility.
the demands of these last five weeks intimidate me.
school, work, internship.
relationships with family and friends.
and the looming decisions i must make, though i feel pressed and pressured and backed into a corner by the loved and the loathed.
i feel as though the loved and loathed have determined to dismantle what little rest and peace i have right now in my busy, busy life by questioning me (desiring only my submission) and having me reevaluate and restate my reasoning until i feel as if my very reasoning is no more than the unbalanced, delirious logic of an equally unbalanced delirious young woman.
i am spent.
i feel the quiet fracturing of my will.
my patience.
my wonder.
my stamina.
my passion.
my trust.
in all of my undone-ness i slipped out of today's apparel and into my sister's eighth grade basketball sweats and the feller's t-shirt. i borrow clothes. i keep the clothes i borrow. within five minutes underneath white sheets and watercolored comforter, i fell asleep. heavy, deep, and deserved. and while i am no more made up than i was before the nap, i have the advantage of a more rested body.
the fracturing is still there.
some things are too difficult for me to do.
some things i just refuse to do or further discuss.
and in my ungraceful collapse under the difficulty of situations and my own refusal to comply to the wishes of the loved and the loathed,
i am spent.
it was tiredness and dismay.
it was fury and fraility.
the demands of these last five weeks intimidate me.
school, work, internship.
relationships with family and friends.
and the looming decisions i must make, though i feel pressed and pressured and backed into a corner by the loved and the loathed.
i feel as though the loved and loathed have determined to dismantle what little rest and peace i have right now in my busy, busy life by questioning me (desiring only my submission) and having me reevaluate and restate my reasoning until i feel as if my very reasoning is no more than the unbalanced, delirious logic of an equally unbalanced delirious young woman.
i am spent.
i feel the quiet fracturing of my will.
my patience.
my wonder.
my stamina.
my passion.
my trust.
in all of my undone-ness i slipped out of today's apparel and into my sister's eighth grade basketball sweats and the feller's t-shirt. i borrow clothes. i keep the clothes i borrow. within five minutes underneath white sheets and watercolored comforter, i fell asleep. heavy, deep, and deserved. and while i am no more made up than i was before the nap, i have the advantage of a more rested body.
the fracturing is still there.
some things are too difficult for me to do.
some things i just refuse to do or further discuss.
and in my ungraceful collapse under the difficulty of situations and my own refusal to comply to the wishes of the loved and the loathed,
i am spent.
21.3.12
like i know
oh, i have so much to write!
but for now, as the second day of spring bleeds into the third, i have this song:
nothing says spring like brooke fraser.
i almost saw her once with the feller for our annual christmas dinner with jackie+josh. but the feller and i were both twenty and too young to legally attend. instead we spent the evening at balboa park while the other two enjoyed dim lighting and jokes hailing from new zealand. that was a hard night on stone steps in a quiet stubborness under a luminous moon. it was followed by a blissful afternoon on cold grass in a crescendo of vulnerability under a dance between the sun and the shadows the next day. and a kiss on the forehead goodbye. the first one. december '10. chills. and surprise. and laughter. just lovely.
sigh
God is so good. i know this like i know my heart is beating like i know my nailpolish is chipped like i know wooden floors are smooth and carpeted floors are rough. His goodness, though not always obvious, is real and concrete.
but for now, as the second day of spring bleeds into the third, i have this song:
nothing says spring like brooke fraser.
i almost saw her once with the feller for our annual christmas dinner with jackie+josh. but the feller and i were both twenty and too young to legally attend. instead we spent the evening at balboa park while the other two enjoyed dim lighting and jokes hailing from new zealand. that was a hard night on stone steps in a quiet stubborness under a luminous moon. it was followed by a blissful afternoon on cold grass in a crescendo of vulnerability under a dance between the sun and the shadows the next day. and a kiss on the forehead goodbye. the first one. december '10. chills. and surprise. and laughter. just lovely.
sigh
God is so good. i know this like i know my heart is beating like i know my nailpolish is chipped like i know wooden floors are smooth and carpeted floors are rough. His goodness, though not always obvious, is real and concrete.
6.3.12
the lord reigns
the lord reigns, he is robed in majesty;
the lord is robed in majesty
and is armed with strength.
the world is firmly established;
it cannot be moved.
your throne was established long ago;
you are from all eternity.
the seas have lifted up, o lord,
the seas have lifted up their voice;
the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.
mightier than the thunder of the great waters,
mightier than the breakers of the sea -
the lord on high is mighty.
your statutes stand firm;
holiness adonrs your house
for endless days, o lord.
psalm 93
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