December 30, 2010

sparks

It's one a.m. and I feel very happy. Finally there is time and peace to write, and it blesses me. I love writing, I say, and yet I know I don't blog much. But it's quiet and unbusy and I so much want to write and I am not tired. I wonder about my audience: why I'm writing - is it simply for myself? I think it almost has to be, and yet I might not take time to articulate it if I wasn't thinking of my friends reading this. :D

This thought relates: recently, I've been thinking often about love as faithfulness. How I can look back on the way people have related to me, and see how beautiful is has been, how loving they have been to me. Not because they always bent over backwards to accommodate me, but because they simply loved sincerely, desiring to do right by me and trusting God. Perhaps, the things we say are so full of possibilities and unknowings (I cannot fully anticipate how what I say will be received) that how I love must be based in conscience. Kierkegaardy, I daresay.

This morning when I was thinking about my video today, I thought that much of what I aim to communicate (or rather, what I feel and see to be meaningful) is not an idea or a word, not something captured, but an earnestness, a longing, that is all of what is and how I abide. Wendell Berry, from Hannah Coulter: 
"To know it, you have to be living in the presence of it right as it is happening. . . .And so you have a life that you are living only now, now and now and now, gone before you can speak of it, and you must be thankful for living day by day, moment by moment, in this presence.
This reminds me of Butterflies.

Today... I feel like what Liz said, though it wasn't about this day. "today was, just dipping my hands in some water. Not thoroughly drinking it, or absorbing it, but feeling it, and knowing it was real." Today I went to a swing dance party. It brought back memories of the summer, and was a lot of fun.

I have an image in my head of sweeping a floor. You try to be methodical about it, starting out at one side and working towards the other. But you push the broom (it's a large floor and a big broom) in strokes that gather together the dirt, isolating it like an island. That's a bit like what I feel like now and yesterday. I am pulling together fragmented thoughts and experiences and friends from so many different spheres. I want everyone to know that they are part of where I am and how I am and that I think of them all when I look for completion. Last night, at my graduation, there were my family, my neighbors, homeschool group friends, friends from both communication organizations, and my pastor and his wife. So I have this new sensation of feeling as if there isn't such fragmentation anymore. Lord, only let my words be true. . .

Right now I feel like I am both communicating externally and introspecting. It confuses me a little. I think, I like hugs for a similar reason: because they are quiet and wordless, the way I feel, and yet they bring in someone from the outside to where I am.

I am not quite sure why I titled this post "sparks." Possibly - because there are bits of thoughts and memories flying around but instead of being broken and burdened, they are living.

I feel more tired now. I yet wonder what it means to have graduated high school. "Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves. . ." My dad gave me a wonderful charge speech that I was beaming all throughout.

I spoke about [or meant to speak about - I didn't say it in these words] being of one mind with your parents. Could I write this thought here to seal it? I don't know if I've written about this before on my blog, but I don't think I understood how to trust and love my parents until I saw that my heavenly Father meant my earthly parents to fill a similar role. I wanted to tell the students coming after me not to hide things from parents, and to trust that they want what is best for you. I wanted to tell the parents to see the potential in their children. I talked about "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." There were so many stories I could have expanded upon, but I only barely touched them. But I think I hit most of them.

I talked about surrender and letting go of winning debate rounds and the ability to create. How we must realize that everything good in us is from God, or He will find a way to show us.

And I talked about belonging and community and, I don't know if I captured it completely, but this sense of wholeness in my many friendships. I don't know how to preserve the joy of being with friends and how to belong, except that much of it has to do with where and how you dwell: scattered or secure? I think of Josh Harris's Stop Dating the Church and how the church, the living church, can be the "dearest place on earth." All I can say is, and hesitantly, He keeps me. I am yearning towards my God and that is all I can be sure of about how to be happy. And when I have sorrow, He still keeps me. I will choose joy, I will believe. It is not so important that I stay in a certain mood, knowing that He is all. "High King of heaven, my treasure Thou art."

And this is what my speech was about: seeing already in small experiences the truth that runs throughout all of life. Learning to desire God foremost, and hope in the glorious ending this story I live will have. ". . .that you may know the hope to which you have been called, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints. . ." Knowing what I have received, and holding on. Trusting God as my story becomes more faith and less sight. Perhaps - perhaps these years so far have only been an introduction, with character development and foreshadowing, setting the tone for what is to come. And I might anticipate the ending, but I can hardly imagine all the grandness that I will live by to get there, all I will go through to prepare me for an eternal weight of glory.

3 comments:

Hayley said...

Reading this post cheered me, holistically, at least to hear your train of thought, even if I didn't track with all of it. You have a beautiful soul.

Caitriona aka Catherine said...

I have been saving this post to read at a quiet moment and just take it in and respond. So sorry that we did not make it to your graduation. The Truth was woven throughout this post and I am so grateful to have taken it in a the beginning of today. Keep writing, keep trusting and keep on the pilgrim highway.

Art said...

Mrs. Mullaney, thank you so much for reading. :)