stronger than the shouldn'ts

i've a paper to write. this happens too many times.

i've not the motivation to write it.

i must. i must.

but dissecting a film is not what i care to do at this moment. i have a full day of school tomorrow: nine to nine. i would love to take the day off.

fact: i would really love to take the day off.

i shouldn't.

but sometimes our desire is stronger than the shouldn'ts. i've never missed a full tuesday before. one absense (two for some classes) can't hurt. i have done the readings. i score well on exams. i engage in thoughtful discussions during class. and i've been going nonstop since friday morning. and will continue going nonstop until choir tour is over*. rest is undoubtedly being neglected here, isn't it? i am an introvert. my energy comes from time alone spent rejuvinating. and as of late, i have had no time to re-anything.

ah, here i go rationalizing my desires. but, truthfully, the shouldn't(s) - this shouldn't, specifically - aren't as important as we make them. sometimes the better thing to do is shrug off the day. and do with it something less dreary. the paper will still need to be done. turned in by six at night. but not now. perhaps after a morning walk. and a bowl of crunchy grapes.

*departure? this friday. lots of performances. arrival home? in two sundays.

like a secret

i am beginning to believe that things are better this way. and that springtime really is as ravishing alone as it is with others. because flowers still bloom. and trees still grow. and the sky is the purest blue. the quiet nature in which everything changes is like a secret that everyone can see but no one can hear. soon school will be out and it will be summer again. but first there is choir tour. finals. notes. juries. papers. a few premature beach days (fingers crossed). yes, aloneness is not what many assume it to be. it neither equates loneliness nor boredom.

to be alone flings wide every window.

the fresh air cannot help but rush in.

loose fixtures will rattle. shake. maybe, crash towards the ground.

dust will billow and choke and upset allergies.

papers once neatly stacked, organized, and labeled will be in disarray.

but the stuffiness of life

- a fly who has ungraciously overstayed his welcome -

will be shooed out.

home

my heart always finds it way home to You.

the bully that it is

there is a seat in the library that i’ve managed to snatch from the lowliest of library dwellers. the couch is old. looks like it was constructed in the seventies or eighties. but it is oh so comfy. at least the left seat cushion is; it’s been worn in by many a rear end. and now has the privilege of meeting mine frequently.*
i've finally hit my groove this semester. yes, I am aware that it is almost half over. but i’m not waking up at five am anymore to finish papers due at 8 am. and i refuse to stay up late - rest is beneficial to my well-being and i refuse to forfeit a single hour to the books. if i can avoid doing so, i will. and one of the means i obtain more sleep is sleeping on campus. (thank you jackie's couch made bed. you could possibly be more comfortable than the left seat cushion in the library)because being a commuter isn't so bad. even if i've still only a hand full of friends (currently fluctuating. in limbo, if you will.). some would say this is timely. unhealthy dependence on the company of others is detrimental to my discovering who i am. the conversation and affirmation and attention i desire is natural. but not necessary. i might be walking relatively alone for an undefined amount of time. even though friends are hard to make. and keep. and share life with. especially when loneliness, the bully that it is, approaches you and tells you that you could never hold a friendship to begin with. and that this was expected. because you are, ultimately, unsuited for lasting relationships. thus, you are an undesirable. the one who is not sought out but ignored and uninvited. but at least i'm walking. and learning that these lies do not define me. and neither does my current situation of friendlessness. or something like that.
i am beloved by the Father. and i belong to the Most High.
His love makes this season worth it all.

*yesterday my fingers played hopscotch across my keyboard until 11:09. and the other students were apparitions whose minds had tired from laborious studying. having never been in the library past 9:30 pm, i misinterpreted the librarians several glances as disapproving scowls (i was now meandering through facebook) rather than prompts to leave because the library had been closed for approximately nine minutes. coming to my senses, as she turned out the lights in the hallway, i laughed a hardy laugh exclaiming i had no idea the library closes and proceeded through the double doors... to that comfy couch made bed. :)

so we can smell them everyday

dear children-who-i-will-jump-in-puddles-with,

when there are no cartoons on television and when there is nothing in particular to do i will wrap you up like a burrito in a blanket. and pretend like i'm going to eat you. my mom and dad used to do this to me. and i'm going to do it with you. i will cup my hand over your ear and my mouth and tell you secrets like i love you. or your eyes are like fireworks. or your smile is like ten million diamonds. i will help you climb trees even though i've never climbed one. i will teach you to ride a bike even though i'm still learning. i can rollerblade though. maybe we will start with that. we will explore every nook and cranny of parks, woods, and our backyard. no rock will be left unturned. we will pick flowers of different colors and we will breathe our deepest breath, pollen and all. we will let out a sigh of contentment and put said flowers in a vase on a table in our living room. so we can smell them everyday.
we will sing songs and dance for everyone to see. i will teach you to be unashamed. because fear won't look good on you like it never looked good on me. i can't wait until our laughter shakes the walls of our house. we will cry. and fight. and disagree. that is a given, considering that they are the norms of any healthy relationship. but our laughter will be the syrup that makes the illnesses of anger, bitterness, and plain ol' ugliness go away.


sincerely,

a twenty year old girl who has no excuse to be silly but insists that one must never take themselves too seriously.

laced like my fingers in Yours

i hand the glorious and the frightening,

the jubilant and the doleful over to You.

surrender is the call of the day. of every day. and every moment,

because the sweetest of wines and the richest of foods

cannot satisfy like You do.

because You are trustworthy.

and with You, i am safe, alive.

apart from You, i cannot do a thing.

i cannot speak. accomplish. invest.

i cannot breathe.

and this desperation is so real. my body aches with longing.

in Your rest, i retreat.

those wings, delicate and careful, are my hiding place:

where weeping and rejoicing are laced like my fingers in Yours.

You have always held my hand. it sounds silly. but it is true. when i was afraid of the dark and had nightmares that turned my flesh to stony dread. You accompanied me to my parents room; down the creaking hard stairs, the soles of my feet cold against tile. You nestled against me and lulled me to sleep with Your tenderness. You still do.

fear and worry cajole me into restlessness.

but You, my mighty Lord, settle the waters within.

shhh, be still.

psalms ninetythree.three,four

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.

psalms sixtytwo.eight

trust in Him at all times, o people;

pour out your hearts to Him,

for God is our refuge.

selah.

oh so grateful

this past week was exhausting. literally exhausting.

two classes skipped. two meetings cancelled (not by me, thank you jesus).

but on my birthday i went to disneyland and cheesecake factory.

with these beautiful people.

who challenge me without trying.

who make me laugh on the inside. and outside.

(the former is harder)

who tell the truth, regardless how painful or freeing it might be.

who eat lunch and dinner with me - even though i am a commuter.

who drag me out of my hermitude into meaningful conversations and lasting friendships.

who have proven priceless to me over the past year or two.

and i am still oh so sore from walking.

but i am oh so grateful for them.

meet (from left to right): rudy, josh, little ol' me, and jackie.

aren't they great?

:)

proper thing

tomorrow is my birthday.
and i will be twenty.
alas, my teen years are over.

if only a willow tree was a proper thing to ask for.
because they are shady. and sacred. and they sing in the wind.

trinket and bauble

i am called to be free.

anything that

binds

chains

enslaves

isnt worth it anymore.

freedom is the love of Christ poured out: over, in, and around me.

freedom is trusting that love that is stronger than death.

freedom is returning to that love when the yoke of slavery doesn't seem so bad.

(after all, it's just some baggage. you weren't doing that bad before.)

i am called to be free. and it's scary.

there is a Treasure that surpasses every trinket and bauble we cling too.

a beautiful, never-gonna-leave-you, sort of treasure.

an everlasting Treasure that neither rusts nor decays.

and it is that Treasure, that is worth the surrender of my riches and relationships.

maybe it can't.

fact: freedom is scary.

it offers a sleu of possibilities. for you, for others. and these possibilities can tear apart the single thing you wish to keep, that treasure. and no matter how tattered and obsolete it has become, you wish to keep it. even if it means saying no to the freedom you need. because inside, you believe it can be whole and beneficial with time. maybe it can. but maybe it can't. you are left with maybes and possibilities. and the safest, least courageous thing to do is to keep this thing. this thing that is dear to you. this thing that has captured your attention. if you walk away freely, you allow this thing to walk away freely. and you may never be able to keep it or look on it again. and that is scary. this thing might find a better keeper. might be whole in the hands of another. might be beneficial to the life of another. and you will weep. and you will regret the day you chose to be free. because life without this thing is unbearable. you might be free. but you are alone. replaced. forgotten.

at least, that is what you fear.

sometimes, life is exceptionally difficult.

that makes it fiction.

dear you,

today was rainy outside. and my umbrella broke. my mother told me to use it anyways. we don't have the money for another, not right now. not for a while. so with wires bent out of shape i trudged along. no, i skipped along. because today it was rainy outside. and i love the rain. and you love the rain. remember when we were children? you would hop around the playground on one foot. you dared me to beat you. i never did. well, not fair and square. you were always a gentleman. even when you were ten. one day we were at the playground. and it began to pour. the kind of pouring when it hurts to be outside. to feel the tempestuous drops  that smack your face pink and tangle your hair so that it must be combed again. we hid underneath the big slide. and found a refuge that ive not known since. we were older then. into our teens. and we were sure that things would be as we wished. that we would go to the same schools. and eat lunch together always. you liked my moms peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. and i liked your dad's chocolate chip cookies. so we would trade. and we wanted to never stop trading. we were sure that things would be as we wished. the reality of your leaving to a different school never truly hit me. i would not let it. that you were far away. i would accept. but that you were creating a new life, without me. i would not. you were coming back. well, that was a dream. the finest dream i dreamt. i learned how to make my moms peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. i may be biased, but mine are better. i promise. and i promise i will make them for you everyday if you wish. because thats what you wished all along, right? 

this will be my last letter. if you don't respond, i understand. but i have a broken umbrella. and only you to share it with. and only you i want to share it with. we are grown-ups now and can't duck underneath big slides without a questionable glare darting our way. the truth is that you are too much for me to give up. and this truth mocks my naivete in trusting you, dreaming of a life together. and my unparalleled aloneness in losing you.

sincerely,

me

i wrote this just because. and it isn't factual. so that makes it fiction. i really had you going, huh? :)

live that way

forgive the nonsensical (but brief) ramble that is about to ensue in...

five.

four.

three.

two.

one.

sometimes things happen. ya know? and it makes us hold on tighter to our insecurities even though we know they are debilitating us - tearing apart our souls quite literally, stripping us of confidence and crippling us. fear. deeply rooted and bossy. it is so bossy. we are slaves to fear. fear of not being enough. fear of not being worthy. fear of failure. of never taming that temptation. of not knowing the certainties that give us temporal security. yea. that fear. fear that has no place in me. but that i allow to live in me nonetheless. yep. i just let it make eggs and bacon every morning. i let it sit on my couch and flip through the channels. i let it tag along wherever i go. how ridiculous. it has a list of arguments against me. and i bend my ear to this beastial creature, whose logic seems accurate. accurate and lethal. because i believe it. and operate out of fear rather than grace. i do not love effectively because i am concerned about past offenses and the what ifs that accompany them. i do not love effectively because my fear takes the shape of hellish insecurity. and my security in relationships. ministry. education. etc. is something i protect at all costs. even if it means not loving someone as a daughter and son of the Most High. ah but this security, these things i try and define myself with and by are ephemeral. this i know full well. i need to operate out of grace. and love others as they truly are: redeemed, forgiven and made alive and beautiful by transformative grace. life is crazy. legitimately crazy. but it will be interesting to see how everything will smooth out. how the water will look when it isn't agitated and quickened by our messiness. we are so messy. we are so messy. we mess up and lie. and hide. and gossip. and pretend. and criticize. and forget. and cheat. people are so messy. thank the lord he accepts our mess. even our messy prayers. and our messy songs to him. gosh! its great that he does that. he sifts through all the mess and knows us. and loves us. whoaaa. it's just who he is. it's his nature. and i am so thankful. death is defeated. every kind of death. words kill. they kill. anywhere in me that fear or lust or bitterness takes hold, death is present. it is in those areas that i've not allowed the marvelous light and life that Jesus has given me to penetrate. it is in those areas that i've not stood in the authority that Christ has given me, to say death where is they sting? fact: death is defeated.

and i need to live that way. and guard against any form of death that leeches onto the indestructable life i've been given through Christ. he has given me the keys to the kingdom. he has called me a co-heir and a conqueror. he has me seated in heavenly places. and he calls me his own, his daughter, his beloved. i need to live that way.

ps. i really love peonies. are they "in season"? is that even the right terminology? oh well. they are just so pretty.

dance party on my roof

i love driving in the rain. the jittery drivers i can do without. the spike in accidents isn't favorable, i admit. let's face it, most people can't drive in the rain.

but when it's raining really hard and i'm in traffic, i turn off my windshield wipers and wait until it gets blurry and the brake lights blur together. i only do that for a second because i don't want to contribute to those accidents. but i have a secret.* a child-sized smile spreads across my face each time i drive underneath an overpass and the sound of rain stops for a brief moment. and then it starts up again. it is ever so enchanting.

the rain is a million pixies having a dance party on my roof.

doing the mashed potato and the twist.

*i actually have two.** when i drive home late i don't use my gas pedal. the street is a shadow. the incandescent green lights wait. sometimes i go as slow as five miles per hour. and the whole world is silent.

**i lied. i have three. when i feel especially contemplative. or that the sun is setting on a day that i've not been "present" with others and myself. i deliberately drive behind a slow car or big eighteen wheeler. because i am training myself to live an unhurried, unanxious life. to decelerate my life in the hopes of living abudantly. to still the need to get ahead (in the quickest way possible). to enjoy traffic, because i am fully alive. to enjoy every mundane, ordinary thing, because i am fully alive. because they are not as mundane and ordinary as i think.

fact: only a handful of people knew all that. now all of blogdom (who deems this post worth reading) does. silly me. i do hope that all made sense.

pointless

school starts tomorrow.

what?

twenty units.

what?

so.

pretty much pointless post.

but.

i'm okay with that.

because.

i love school.

and.

i always have.

intend to follow

intentionality will characterize this new year, however formidable it may be. wantings and wishings aside. they are beautiful but they lack the purposed steps necessary.

i intend to follow Him.

with bright and fiery steps. with c0ld and hesitant steps. with steps that will draw me closer to His hands and feet in adoration and obedience. with steps that will draw me closer to His smile, exulting His generous outpouring of grace. with steps that will draw me closer to His eyes - those abysmal eyes, which are congnizant of my profoundest sorrow and delight. yes, those eyes that lovelovelove.

i intend to follow Him.

here and now, in this life that is tailor made to form me into His likeness. and instead of wishing i were this or that or them. i will get hold of my own life, this one He breathed into. for i will never meet God in someone elses life, regardless its glitter or glow. and those moments drenched with lament, that wretched wail in my belly, will be offered up to Him. for He can do with it more than i can. i will lean into the pain. the loneliness. the tears. and find Him there. always. though He may be silent and invisible to my eye, He is there. aha! and those moments explosive with irrepressible joy. yes, i will find Him undoubtedly jumping. laughing. singing. dancing. with me. always.

i intend to follow this King,

this Lover,

this Savior,

this Counselor,

this Friend,

this Creator,

this Father,

this God - the God, my God, my everything.

unreality

“But God is present in reality no matter what unreality our practices and our ponderings i m p l y. He is forever trying to establish communication; forever aware of the wrong directions we are taking and wishing to warn us; forever offering solutions for the problems that baffle us; forever standing at the door of our loneliness, eager to bring us such comradeship as the most intelligent living mortal could not supply; forever clinging to our indifference in the hope that someday our needs, or at least our tagedies will waken us to respond to his advances. The Real Presence is just that, real and life transforming.”

-From The Captivating Presence by Albert Edward Day

this quote will be for now and the new year.

knowing stops there

winter lasted two weeks out here. the sun is promenading round the sky now, proud with triumph. there is chill breeze, but the suns heat can quench any chill. i've been in the snow twice. the first time doesn't really count because it was fake snow, renewed every four hours. i was in the mountains, but it wasn't really snow. the second time - or the first time? - was at a winter camp. (where i also lost my phone in the snow - one of my many phone mishaps) it was breathtaking. we almost got snowed in. the whole weekend i said "it's snowing," in awe, in reverence, in excitement. i said this often. and everyone responded the same way: "yes, we know." sometimes you know things so deep inside. you identify with them as true and real. sometimes you witness these things you know - how fortunate you are if this is the case. you see them. you touch them. but your knowing stops there. you fail to don the curiousity of an explorer and go beyond the vesture of knowing, into the infinitesimel wonder that lies behind and below and between. yes, it was snowing. but it was snowing. each time as startling and as divine as birth.

but i digress? heh, i do love saying that.

when it is cold enough, i slip into my fathers sock drawer and wear his socks to bed. because his are the warmest socks in the house. they go up to my knees and the space for my heel is inevitably by my ankle. they are big, but warm. i wish winter lasted longer out here. and was more than a heavy rain. if it were, i'd have to stash a great portion of his socks in my sock drawer. i think he'd be okay with that.

and christmas was wonderful. my family is crazy. and though i use that term loosely, some of my family members are quite foolish, bizarre, and mad. some of my family members are in desperate need of affection - unadultated generosity of love. and though they need it, they cannot receive it because their hearts are stiff with hurt. soften their hearts. we do our celebrating on christmas eve. and at twelve am precisely, we begin to open gifts. christmas day is reserved for lounging. we've mastered this. you would be foolish to challenge my siblings and nieces and nephews in this arena. they can out lounge any couch potatoe. and we eat tamales the following days (weeks?) until they are gone.

one day i will make tamales for my parents. first, i've got to learn how.

how good of Him

i am so glad that He came.

i am delivered. saved. freed. befriended. healed. adopted. redeemed. forgiven. beloved. made alive. made strong. made patient. made joyous. made compassionate. filled with grace.

because He came.

He came and expressed love unthinkable for me.

that is enough.

Rejoice, Rejoice

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel

how good of Him to provide for us a way into His heart.

how good of Him to fling wide the gates of heaven.

how good of Him to invite us into the depths of His love unthinkable.

how good of Him to come.

just a habit

this year has been really really hard. le sigh. really hard. i'm not sure how things are supposed to look or feel anymore. and i love being sure. i'm really good at planning. the planner i bought was 13.99 at staples. it has birds on it, which won't help me be more organized. but anything with a bird or a flower print makes me weak in the knees - thus, the rather impulsive and indulgent purchase. i've got a knack for making lists. you see, i have this white board and a green-smells-like-mint expo thin tip marker. lists look so good on it (especially when they are all crossed off). but there's this problem now. besides crossing off little things like: deposit checks, fill out health insurance form, etc. i've no long term list for things like friendships or... well, we'll just leave it at that.

life is a free flowing river. and it's so scary to dip my toe in and back stroke in spontaneity. life is an uncharted forest. and it's so scary to venture forth and press through the thick unknown.

it's all so unknown.

yea. i used to have a pretty good grip on a lot of things. and now, i know that it wasn't a healthy sort of grip. it was a controlling-leave-no-room-for-what-He-has-in-mind kind of grip. what He has in mind is exceeds every dream or hope or desire i could ever think or imagine. even now, my hands instinctively clench onto people and things that i've no business clenching onto. but it's just a habit. that has got to be broken. that is being broken.

and, gosh, it's hard.

*this is sort of a repitition of what some of my other posts have said. it's just that this is where i am at right now, in this season. and i might be here for a while.

green again

finals are this week.

three papers due: two down, one to go.

aural theory exam: wednesday

voice jury: wednesday

music theory exam: thursday

i can do it.

the leaves are whirling 'round tenderly on the crisp breath of autumn.

they are dancing 'bout each other, a dance of sweet death. together they fall on cracked sidewalks where children will collect the reddest ones. where old women will listen for the crunch beneath their feet. the leaves will congregate and assemble in acceptance of their great fall. they will be tossed and blown about. soon enough they will be gone.

they know this.

the tree is barren because it is time for release and change.

this season will not highlight it's strength or beauty.

but it will make the tree both strong and beautiful.

it will be cold. it will be harsh.

the tree is barren because it is autumn and it will soon be winter.

but it will be green again.

it always turns green again.