July 29, 2010

Smiling and secrets and quotes from Phantastes. (What I sometimes call joy)
Kind memories, and wanting to love and find God.
Metaphors for faithfulness, earth and grass and wind.
Peace? Thinking of being more of a protector than the one kept safe, held. not that I've lost innocence.
Romans 8, again. You did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but the spirit of adoption as sons. And irrevocable identity, hoping that what I go through is me being humbled, thinking I am never far away from God though yesterday I felt I had lost something.

I wonder how hard it would be to change my tone and really talk to whoever is reading my blog.
There are a lot of people here, who are interesting to be around and listen to and watch. I could talk about them for a long time.

I don't know about repeating what I've learned or am learning here, as if it unintegrates my life.
I've become better at being open and letting other people help me. I realize that I often am better off when not leading. I wonder about using the word love. I may have become more deadpan, erring on the side of understatement, as I tiptoe around expressions of affection because I want them to be very true.

When I say I love someone, I mean that I will be silent when my words would hurt them, and forgive them when I feel hurt, and think the best of them when I don't understand or know them, and listen to them without being concerned about myself. Love means that I will suffer when they do, or when I see suffering coming to them, and that their happiness will bring me joy. So I don't want it to simply mean I think they're fairly cool and don't want me to think I don't like them. And it doesn't just mean that I miss them or wish they were there to pay attention to me. I want to love everyone, and love many people, only I'm very aware that love is much to promise.

What does it mean when Jon Foreman says love isn't made?

Works. matter-of-factness, then. (I know that doesn't make sense: it means, a lot of what I think about is what I do and so I don't need to talk about it.)

I'm happy.

July 23, 2010

(the image of God)

Father God, I can't picture you - I can only try to imagine you around me. I try to speak to feeling but long to look you in the eye. So can I be excused for staring fresh in the face of this beautiful world, hoping to find you there? My focus falters in darkness.
What is this divine romance-
God taking hold of me,
Shaking out my soul;
How can there be room for any other?

Silver words drop into me
scalding me, searing me
but refashioning my disjointed heart.
I welcome the work of healing

Accept the unity
Let go of the conviction that riddles can't be solved
God may break through,
And teach me to love my brother.

July 21, 2010

Reworking how I live

I just finished watching A Beautiful Mind. Good. movie. I want to discuss it sometime.

During it, I was thinking about how I respond to movies, and innocence, and being loved and understood as I am. I don't know about becoming... callous? I wonder about being able to interact with most people, or being left out... integration. real life... what it means to be an adult?

I also ponder, in a "hum..." sort of way (vague, not frantic, just.... wondering) about hallucinations. Or rather, convincing yourself of things, and different levels of reality. "You can only remember what's written on your face." Some things being true in the right, intense context, which, lifted out of their place, hardly seem to fit.

About the title: here things are changed a lot from what I've been used to over the past ... while. I'm trying to figure out how to interact online while being fully present here. Part of that is, I want to pause and be focused when I read blogs or write or think, but here there's hardly a spare moment to be moved by words on a screen. Perhaps I'll find that that begins to be untrue as the weeks progress.

Conversations: they seem to be wonderful, surprising. That I can ask a question and talk about it as it occurs to me, or that working through emotions can be easier with a sister than writing to my computer. In other news, Kristen loves me.

July 19, 2010

I'm leaving tomorrow morning for PREP week[s].

I'm so tired. I want to really talk to God, and let His strength be shown in me.

Thinking about:

"Even in darkness, love
shows the circumference
of the world, lightning
quivering on horizons
in the summer night."
~Wendell Berry

July 10, 2010

Witness, Part 2

I paused as I came down the hill to the park. In the stillness I felt drawn, aching, concerned, and I saw the parents and children. People - right there, and I thought of how I want to speak to people about God and love them. How much of that was for myself, my consistency or self-respect or courage, and how much of it was for love's sake. Was I even in a state to try to witness when I wasn't fully clear in my own head what I had seen and how I would testify.

I drew closer, uncertain, and still smiling for joy and for peace and for His presence always being there. And all I did was to smile at a mother, and confused, swing slowly back and forth. There were the Jewish dads talking by the toddler swings, there were the moms talking or playing with their kids, there was the man sitting and watching quietly on the bench, and all I did was to get up from my swing, and venture a "hi" to a girl walking past me.

I feel both the weight and the lightness, the weight of a concern I don't understand, if I could love with this self of mine enough, oh to be used by God. Wanting to do what I am made to do. Yet the lightness, the face of God and a conversation He's kept and promises He will keep.

July 7, 2010

Phantastes, Part 2

I had a dream that I had already written about Phantastes a few months ago, so I'd have to go back to my last post and retitle it "Phantastes, Part 2".~ (irony mark)

July 5, 2010


Oh, we may be fairies too, to love endlessly without word or touch, shining like stars in the night. And because we know this, we can look up at those same stars and hear them laughing, feel them loving, and be joined in a unity deeper than the world.


A pendulum is a hopeless thing. Back and forth, back and forth it sways, a path unbroken, never gaining on itself or even moving backwards. Caught in the unchanging sines and cosines of its repetitious function; a falling, a rising up, a falling again. Like how we find ourselves free of our pride only to congratulate ourselves and be enslaved again. Of letting go, and grasping back again.

Only, we move with a force unmeasured, unending. Resurrected from the dead - conquering - He is strong enough to rise forever.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. (2 Cor 4:16)

But why do I seem to keep falling? Probably, probably because he's releasing me from all the sins that weigh on me. It takes a long time to loosen my grip on everything I want to keep. I've found myself mute on this blog, unable to post anything but poetry, because everything else was tinged with the desire to create something of my experiences or gain the approval of all of you. There are times I love to tell too much, and finding that out was a beautiful letdown.

you heard of being rich
with gold refined by fire
but you didn't know it meant
that all you thought was yours would be burned away
and only My power remain.

So we are not pendulums, bound to futility by some unfeeling force. Every falling is a humbling, to show us how our strength is in Him alone. And He is strong enough to rise forever.


It's harsh, the grating of truth against a broken and rusted soul. And maybe sometimes it slips right in, a key clanking in its place, opening the door to places you'd forgotten were there. But more often than not the pieces aren't in place yet when it comes, scraping against what is wrong.

July 3, 2010

"I have feared to be unknown and to offend - I must speak, then, against the dread of speech."

What if the last word you heard
from me was a silken lie?
What if you wandered anxiously
because you couldn't catch my eye?
What if I left off telling
that between us all was right
What if I disappeared
into the endless night.

July 1, 2010

and joy is like the creeping ivy
arching its way around my home
filmy netting, blown to my face
whispering with the whipping wind


you're my raggedy ann
your shoulders uneven
you're eager to go forward
yet with your pieces out of joint


it's a cautious balance
of word and thought and life
if I stay I stagnate
oh, believe and follow