These days I seem to think of many things as being past tense- closed doors, childhood friendships, and times that have passed. Some of them I cannot retrieve, but many are just waiting there for me to turn around and call for them. I have learned recently just how silent I have allowed myself to become.
These days I seem to not know just who I am becoming or whom I have presented myself as being. I'm not sure I like who I am at work.
These days I seem to be overeager for acceptance and approval. It's beguiling that I should be so desperate for approval that if it seems out of reach, I turn and ignore it instead of standing on my tiptoes where I might reach it.
These days I seem to sleep poorly and wake up feeling like I've been wrestling with angels- perhaps when I change my name I should make it Israel.
These days I find myself lamenting the level of maturity I have attempted to impose upon myself- because I still want someone else to do my dishes and hold me as I cry.
These days I spend a lot of time thinking about how I should take better care of myself, but not a lot of time trying to take care of myself.
These days I seem to rush to everything- rush to shower, rush to work, rush to home, rush to clean, rush to sleep, rush to love, but not rush to God.
These days I find myself missing simplicity.
These days I end up wishing for Saturdays filled with play instead of work.
These days I fret often. I crave Psalm 34's abundant peace.
10.13.2008
8.26.2008
8.21.2008
Theology in a windy stairwell
I have spent the better part of the last few years attending a school that spouts a motto of "In all things Christ pre-eminent."
This motto could be the proponent of some of the biggest misconceptions people have about that place.
People look at that motto and think of happy little conservative Christian homes. They think of modest girls training to be homemakers and of preppy boys who'll grow up to be businessmen or pastors. They don't think of things like grief or sexual abuse or addictions or divorce. These are not the images that are conjured up by that phrase.
But that is the reality. The beautiful reality of that phrase is that Jesus is not in some preppy little homeschooled Christian box. He's out there in the brokenness. And his people are broken. We fail. We have sex before marriage. We lie. We envy each other and we gossip. We get drunk sometimes. We fail to be loving. Sometimes we're bitchy. We come from broken backgrounds where things like abuse, porn, divorce, and filth are formative in our lives. And Jesus is there. He doesn't wait for us to clean up before he comes to us. He meets us where we are. Because the reality of that phrase is not found in a church. The reality of the meaning of that phrase is the first bit- the ALL. Jesus isn't something to be relegated to the corner shelf so we can get at him when we feel bad and we need him. He's there to comfort us when the pain from our brokenness and our shame overwhelms us. He's there to encourage us when we're struggling to break our addictions- and he's there accepting you still when you falter back into them. The reality of that phrase is that when he's part of your life, he's pervasive. There is no stone left unturned. He's part of your eating, your abstaining, your imbibing, your conversation, your writing, your sex, your sinfulness, and your sanctity. He's there in ALL of it. And he's not going anywhere.
The reality of Christ's pre-eminence is in all of the times that you got looked down on or punished or beaten up or abused- because all of those things happened to him. The reality of his presence is there in every humbling experience and in every time you're inadequate. His reality is there no matter how dirty the world gets. And no matter how much we pretend to have been polishing it, he's still there under all the grime. And that's the Jesus I want to follow.
This motto could be the proponent of some of the biggest misconceptions people have about that place.
People look at that motto and think of happy little conservative Christian homes. They think of modest girls training to be homemakers and of preppy boys who'll grow up to be businessmen or pastors. They don't think of things like grief or sexual abuse or addictions or divorce. These are not the images that are conjured up by that phrase.
But that is the reality. The beautiful reality of that phrase is that Jesus is not in some preppy little homeschooled Christian box. He's out there in the brokenness. And his people are broken. We fail. We have sex before marriage. We lie. We envy each other and we gossip. We get drunk sometimes. We fail to be loving. Sometimes we're bitchy. We come from broken backgrounds where things like abuse, porn, divorce, and filth are formative in our lives. And Jesus is there. He doesn't wait for us to clean up before he comes to us. He meets us where we are. Because the reality of that phrase is not found in a church. The reality of the meaning of that phrase is the first bit- the ALL. Jesus isn't something to be relegated to the corner shelf so we can get at him when we feel bad and we need him. He's there to comfort us when the pain from our brokenness and our shame overwhelms us. He's there to encourage us when we're struggling to break our addictions- and he's there accepting you still when you falter back into them. The reality of that phrase is that when he's part of your life, he's pervasive. There is no stone left unturned. He's part of your eating, your abstaining, your imbibing, your conversation, your writing, your sex, your sinfulness, and your sanctity. He's there in ALL of it. And he's not going anywhere.
The reality of Christ's pre-eminence is in all of the times that you got looked down on or punished or beaten up or abused- because all of those things happened to him. The reality of his presence is there in every humbling experience and in every time you're inadequate. His reality is there no matter how dirty the world gets. And no matter how much we pretend to have been polishing it, he's still there under all the grime. And that's the Jesus I want to follow.
8.16.2008
Why I love my husband
he brought me Milo's
and Chicken & Stars
and doughnuts.
And he loves me enough to be awake with me for hours in the middle of the night because I'm not feeling well and he's worried.
I don't deserve his kind of love.
and Chicken & Stars
and doughnuts.
And he loves me enough to be awake with me for hours in the middle of the night because I'm not feeling well and he's worried.
I don't deserve his kind of love.
8.13.2008
Validation.
I think I'm beginning to gain a small amount of self-confidence.
Husband and I realized the other day that we both had always felt like we were just being tolerated by a group of friends- like the fringe member of the group. Not that we didn't know our friends didn't love us, but well...
We're both the kind of people that floats between several social groups. This is nice because there's always someone to hang out with, always something going on. But you don't really have a home-base of friends. And it's really just a clever way of never having to be alone.
Well, recently we've found out (by being dumb people and bad friends and holing up for several months after our wedding) that there are people who actually genuinely miss being with/around us. And that they want to fit in with us. This makes me feel loved. And dumb for not realizing this sooner.
I blame it on being an extroverted introvert (husband is an introverted extrovert). I'm extroverted enough to talk to strangers, start conversations, and make friends, but introverted to the point of sometimes spending several days completely alone and not realizing that I've done it.
Also, I blame it on being a middle child.
But it still makes me feel dumb.
Husband and I realized the other day that we both had always felt like we were just being tolerated by a group of friends- like the fringe member of the group. Not that we didn't know our friends didn't love us, but well...
We're both the kind of people that floats between several social groups. This is nice because there's always someone to hang out with, always something going on. But you don't really have a home-base of friends. And it's really just a clever way of never having to be alone.
Well, recently we've found out (by being dumb people and bad friends and holing up for several months after our wedding) that there are people who actually genuinely miss being with/around us. And that they want to fit in with us. This makes me feel loved. And dumb for not realizing this sooner.
I blame it on being an extroverted introvert (husband is an introverted extrovert). I'm extroverted enough to talk to strangers, start conversations, and make friends, but introverted to the point of sometimes spending several days completely alone and not realizing that I've done it.
Also, I blame it on being a middle child.
But it still makes me feel dumb.
8.09.2008
Why I didn't answer the phone.
Ok, so I just had the weirdest dream with the scariest awakening I've had in a long time.
Starts out as a road trip. Noah, three of his siblings, and I are going to see Isaac at Basic Training. AND Renee. Also at Basic Training. With Ike. So we go to the training facility, which is down the road from Covenant. It looks like Three Springs' entrance. We go inside (I'm carrying a laundry basket full of stuff) and are taken to where they are. The woman who takes us there seems very capable, but looks like an overgrown Barbie.
We come into the visiting room. This is also the shooting range. People are shooting at targets around the outside of the large, almost square rectangle of a room. There are tables all throughout the room, I think it was the mess hall too. So we're talking to them and then another woman (also Barbie-like) comes into the room and barks an instruction. She starts walking around the room and the people are aiming their guns at her and not firing. Until one guy does accidentally fire. It sends a shoot of light out and burns a hole in the wall. But. Doesn't. Even. Phase. Her. It shot right through her. And it was like a fake lightsaber. The light cut through her but didn't hurt her. At first I wondered if she was a hologram, then she took his gun and unloaded the other bullets in it into the wall because he was such an idiot. She gets to us and immediately sends all of the Army people out. (Save Ike and Renee) We are taken to the middle of the room and told to wait there. There are now no more tables. Then they come in and tell us that visiting time is over, besides, Renee has to go for her breast exam anyway (WTF?). So everyone else says goodbye while I'm packing everything up. I'm putting things in the basket, and I realize that this basket is full of everything we weren't supposed to send him. And I wonder if they'll ever let me out. Then I say goodbye and... Barbie woman wants a hug goodbye too?? I am now officially creeped out.
SO I'm rushing back to the parking lot and get there WAY before anyone else does. I can't find the car. It's raining. Hard. They finally get there and show me that the car is right behind the big column that I didn't look around. And Elnat (who is not like the real Elnat, but is someone my age with no beard and who acts pretty much like... Oh my gosh- he was a Catacombian... Odd.) asks me how I feel about cooking. I tell him he's dumb, I can't cook outside with 1)no pots and pans, 2)in the RAIN, 3)no food, and 4)DID I MENTION IN THE RAAAAIIIIN???!!!?? And then I realize that the dream facility is right next to Covenant. Which means it is right next to our house. Where it is not raining. So I say sure.
So we go to our house, which in the dream is a trailer that looks like it was built/updated in the seventies. (it is NOT like that in real life) And our front door is flapping open. (It's sunny here- I told you- it doesn't rain at our house in my dreams...) We go in and I go to the kitchen. Our fridge is unplugged, there's a panel off the wall, our fridge is open and "defrosting" even though it's stuffed with food. There is no sink and it looks like a construction zone. I turn around to tell Noah that someone's destroyed our kitchen and it must have been....
Steph H. pops around the corner to claim her handiwork. She says she was just visiting and because it was raining and she had walked over, she tried the door handle when there was no answer. You see, (here she speeds up and I was still looking around my ridiculous kitchen so I don't know if her explanation was that her Father had designed the wiring in the house or that they'd lived there before us and she knew a little about it. It might've been both). So she decided to take a look around.
When she got to the kitchen she knew why she must've come. Someone dumb had changed everything. So she was going to put it right. There had been a panel installed over a closet and a full-sized Ironing board that came down from the ceiling. Also there were all sorts of things in there- like a picnic basket, a costume, a bunch of wooden Tupperware, etc. However, the outlet for the frige was on this wall panel, and in taking it off she'd damaged the plug. Instead of having three metal prongs. it now had four wires coming out. Three of the four were covered in this spongy goop and the other was naked. One of the goopy wires was sticking out of the end. She tells me that the outlet the plug is supposed to plug into is under the counter, not on the opposite wall like we'd had it. So all I had to do was climb under and plug it in. But be sure to plug in the right parts or I'll die.
So I climb under and yes, the outlet does only have three openings. And I can't decide. I contemplate trying various combinations until I figure it out, but that seems too much like not knowing which wire to cut to stop a bomb. So I'm about to plug in the goopy ones. And then, I look at them and the one exposed wire and the one partially exposed wire are going to connect!!! I can't stop it!!! IT ELECTROCUTES ME!!! And wakes me up. Because the buzzing is actually my cell phone on vibrate on the bedside table. I thought I was dead.
Starts out as a road trip. Noah, three of his siblings, and I are going to see Isaac at Basic Training. AND Renee. Also at Basic Training. With Ike. So we go to the training facility, which is down the road from Covenant. It looks like Three Springs' entrance. We go inside (I'm carrying a laundry basket full of stuff) and are taken to where they are. The woman who takes us there seems very capable, but looks like an overgrown Barbie.
We come into the visiting room. This is also the shooting range. People are shooting at targets around the outside of the large, almost square rectangle of a room. There are tables all throughout the room, I think it was the mess hall too. So we're talking to them and then another woman (also Barbie-like) comes into the room and barks an instruction. She starts walking around the room and the people are aiming their guns at her and not firing. Until one guy does accidentally fire. It sends a shoot of light out and burns a hole in the wall. But. Doesn't. Even. Phase. Her. It shot right through her. And it was like a fake lightsaber. The light cut through her but didn't hurt her. At first I wondered if she was a hologram, then she took his gun and unloaded the other bullets in it into the wall because he was such an idiot. She gets to us and immediately sends all of the Army people out. (Save Ike and Renee) We are taken to the middle of the room and told to wait there. There are now no more tables. Then they come in and tell us that visiting time is over, besides, Renee has to go for her breast exam anyway (WTF?). So everyone else says goodbye while I'm packing everything up. I'm putting things in the basket, and I realize that this basket is full of everything we weren't supposed to send him. And I wonder if they'll ever let me out. Then I say goodbye and... Barbie woman wants a hug goodbye too?? I am now officially creeped out.
SO I'm rushing back to the parking lot and get there WAY before anyone else does. I can't find the car. It's raining. Hard. They finally get there and show me that the car is right behind the big column that I didn't look around. And Elnat (who is not like the real Elnat, but is someone my age with no beard and who acts pretty much like... Oh my gosh- he was a Catacombian... Odd.) asks me how I feel about cooking. I tell him he's dumb, I can't cook outside with 1)no pots and pans, 2)in the RAIN, 3)no food, and 4)DID I MENTION IN THE RAAAAIIIIN???!!!?? And then I realize that the dream facility is right next to Covenant. Which means it is right next to our house. Where it is not raining. So I say sure.
So we go to our house, which in the dream is a trailer that looks like it was built/updated in the seventies. (it is NOT like that in real life) And our front door is flapping open. (It's sunny here- I told you- it doesn't rain at our house in my dreams...) We go in and I go to the kitchen. Our fridge is unplugged, there's a panel off the wall, our fridge is open and "defrosting" even though it's stuffed with food. There is no sink and it looks like a construction zone. I turn around to tell Noah that someone's destroyed our kitchen and it must have been....
Steph H. pops around the corner to claim her handiwork. She says she was just visiting and because it was raining and she had walked over, she tried the door handle when there was no answer. You see, (here she speeds up and I was still looking around my ridiculous kitchen so I don't know if her explanation was that her Father had designed the wiring in the house or that they'd lived there before us and she knew a little about it. It might've been both). So she decided to take a look around.
When she got to the kitchen she knew why she must've come. Someone dumb had changed everything. So she was going to put it right. There had been a panel installed over a closet and a full-sized Ironing board that came down from the ceiling. Also there were all sorts of things in there- like a picnic basket, a costume, a bunch of wooden Tupperware, etc. However, the outlet for the frige was on this wall panel, and in taking it off she'd damaged the plug. Instead of having three metal prongs. it now had four wires coming out. Three of the four were covered in this spongy goop and the other was naked. One of the goopy wires was sticking out of the end. She tells me that the outlet the plug is supposed to plug into is under the counter, not on the opposite wall like we'd had it. So all I had to do was climb under and plug it in. But be sure to plug in the right parts or I'll die.
So I climb under and yes, the outlet does only have three openings. And I can't decide. I contemplate trying various combinations until I figure it out, but that seems too much like not knowing which wire to cut to stop a bomb. So I'm about to plug in the goopy ones. And then, I look at them and the one exposed wire and the one partially exposed wire are going to connect!!! I can't stop it!!! IT ELECTROCUTES ME!!! And wakes me up. Because the buzzing is actually my cell phone on vibrate on the bedside table. I thought I was dead.
7.27.2008
I love Highlands.
I love the way we take communion and I love the "mystic sweet communion" that I enjoy there.
Today was a very good Sunday. I feel fed.
I'm SO GLAD that I finally go to a church "that eats like a meal." After so many years at Bworld feeling like I was starving (until the last year or so that I was there, when it was like Thanksgiving twice a week), then SEP- where it was like snacking once a week (albeit with very good family, and beautiful worship), then RCF and hit or miss meals, and now I'm at home. At a church where the preaching feeds the hunger in my soul and there is a loving family of believers.
I love being at HOME.
I feel really blessed to have a home with my husband AND one at church.
This is a nice feeling.
I love the way we take communion and I love the "mystic sweet communion" that I enjoy there.
Today was a very good Sunday. I feel fed.
I'm SO GLAD that I finally go to a church "that eats like a meal." After so many years at Bworld feeling like I was starving (until the last year or so that I was there, when it was like Thanksgiving twice a week), then SEP- where it was like snacking once a week (albeit with very good family, and beautiful worship), then RCF and hit or miss meals, and now I'm at home. At a church where the preaching feeds the hunger in my soul and there is a loving family of believers.
I love being at HOME.
I feel really blessed to have a home with my husband AND one at church.
This is a nice feeling.
7.24.2008
Why do you act so much like an imbecile, America? Why?
Ok, so I just read this article about birth control and I'm rather... we'll say annoyed.
I'm really bothered that so many people can say that this issue is about the rights and freedoms of women, without realizing that it is also about the freedoms of all of the people involved in the process of prescribing/ filling a prescription for that birth control. It's ridiculous.
First of all, if a pharmacist believes that a prescription is in error or dangerous to the patient, they should be able to refuse to fill it. If they receive a prescription for something that they know will harm someone, they should be able to refuse to fill it. There is all of this talk of this bill restricting the freedoms of women by taking away their freedom of choice about what they do with their bodies, what about the freedom of the nurse, doctor or pharmacist to choose what to do with THEIR bodies (i.e. to hand you a pill/prescription or not). Shouldn't they have rights too?
Also, when did medicine become about what the patient WANTS? Medicine is about treating things that have gone wrong, preventing things that would go wrong otherwise, and providing palliative care when there is no other treatment available or when the only treatments also cause pain. Medicine should not be about people walking into the doctor's office saying "I want this drug." and the doctor just handing over a prescription for it. Medicine is about what patients NEED. Not their wants. It centers around the doctor knowing more than you do about the way that the body functions and its needs. It requires the doctor to make a judgment about what is best for you. Sure, they can give you options and allow you to make the final choice. There are all kinds of things (NOT just birth control) that doctors and pharmacists choose to not recommend or prescribe to their patients. I have had several doctors who informed me that there were other options than the ones they were willing to prescribe. They told me the things they do prescribe and then the ones they don't- and the reasons why they don't prescribe them. Sometimes it's because they haven't seen the drug work enough, they've seen it have negative reactions, they don't believe it works to the best interest of the patient, there are too many possible complications or simply that they don't agree with it morally. I have no problem with this. I respect it when my doctors inform me of the various options, the pros and cons of each, and their objections/support of various options. I want to know when someone smarter or more educated than I has a moral objection (or any objection, for that matter) to something they are going to tell me to introduce into my system. I would find it offensive and restrictive of my (any my doctors') freedoms if they weren't allowed to do so.
It just makes me so mad when people fight so hard for things that they haven't really examined or given a fair chance to. I hate it when people don't take their presuppositions to their logical conclusions.
I'm really bothered that so many people can say that this issue is about the rights and freedoms of women, without realizing that it is also about the freedoms of all of the people involved in the process of prescribing/ filling a prescription for that birth control. It's ridiculous.
First of all, if a pharmacist believes that a prescription is in error or dangerous to the patient, they should be able to refuse to fill it. If they receive a prescription for something that they know will harm someone, they should be able to refuse to fill it. There is all of this talk of this bill restricting the freedoms of women by taking away their freedom of choice about what they do with their bodies, what about the freedom of the nurse, doctor or pharmacist to choose what to do with THEIR bodies (i.e. to hand you a pill/prescription or not). Shouldn't they have rights too?
Also, when did medicine become about what the patient WANTS? Medicine is about treating things that have gone wrong, preventing things that would go wrong otherwise, and providing palliative care when there is no other treatment available or when the only treatments also cause pain. Medicine should not be about people walking into the doctor's office saying "I want this drug." and the doctor just handing over a prescription for it. Medicine is about what patients NEED. Not their wants. It centers around the doctor knowing more than you do about the way that the body functions and its needs. It requires the doctor to make a judgment about what is best for you. Sure, they can give you options and allow you to make the final choice. There are all kinds of things (NOT just birth control) that doctors and pharmacists choose to not recommend or prescribe to their patients. I have had several doctors who informed me that there were other options than the ones they were willing to prescribe. They told me the things they do prescribe and then the ones they don't- and the reasons why they don't prescribe them. Sometimes it's because they haven't seen the drug work enough, they've seen it have negative reactions, they don't believe it works to the best interest of the patient, there are too many possible complications or simply that they don't agree with it morally. I have no problem with this. I respect it when my doctors inform me of the various options, the pros and cons of each, and their objections/support of various options. I want to know when someone smarter or more educated than I has a moral objection (or any objection, for that matter) to something they are going to tell me to introduce into my system. I would find it offensive and restrictive of my (any my doctors') freedoms if they weren't allowed to do so.
It just makes me so mad when people fight so hard for things that they haven't really examined or given a fair chance to. I hate it when people don't take their presuppositions to their logical conclusions.
5.20.2008
Mawwage.
Twu Wuv is what bwings us...
Marriage is weird. I've never enjoyed anything more than these last two weeks. It astounds me that it's only been two weeks- it seems like years and like no time at all. It feels like I would imagine that the incongruity of time between Narnia and England would feel. I never knew just how important one person could be.
I never thought about all of the different things that marriage vows mean. Here are the vows that we took (copied from an online text of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer which is what we used):
Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health? and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?
I, N. take thee, N. to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse ; for richer, for poorer ; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; this is my solemn vow.
I didn't realize all that was meant by the "forsaking all others" clause. I've been reading a couple of the relationship books that either Travis has recommended or we were given as wedding presents, and one of them talked about that clause for a bit. Forsaking all others can be taken as a literal vow of monogamy, but it can also be interpreted in a broader sense (which I think is wise also) to include a pledge to put them in the first spot on your list of priorities- even above yourself and your children. This means no selfishness and no neglecting your spouse because you are caring for your kids (obviously, since this is a vow taken by two people to each other, you are somebody's top priority. Also, this does not mean neglect yourself or your children, only that your marriage takes precedence over your parenting and removes the luxury of selfish indulgence).
It feels strange to be writing this so soon after getting married. I mean, who am I to be saying this? But then again, who better to say it than someone who has been intensely focused on it like this? Eh, what does it matter anyway if I have a right to say it? Half of what gets written in blogs is written by people with no right to say such things.
Anyway, marriage is great. And sex is awesome.
Marriage is weird. I've never enjoyed anything more than these last two weeks. It astounds me that it's only been two weeks- it seems like years and like no time at all. It feels like I would imagine that the incongruity of time between Narnia and England would feel. I never knew just how important one person could be.
I never thought about all of the different things that marriage vows mean. Here are the vows that we took (copied from an online text of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer which is what we used):
Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health? and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?
I, N. take thee, N. to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse ; for richer, for poorer ; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; this is my solemn vow.
I didn't realize all that was meant by the "forsaking all others" clause. I've been reading a couple of the relationship books that either Travis has recommended or we were given as wedding presents, and one of them talked about that clause for a bit. Forsaking all others can be taken as a literal vow of monogamy, but it can also be interpreted in a broader sense (which I think is wise also) to include a pledge to put them in the first spot on your list of priorities- even above yourself and your children. This means no selfishness and no neglecting your spouse because you are caring for your kids (obviously, since this is a vow taken by two people to each other, you are somebody's top priority. Also, this does not mean neglect yourself or your children, only that your marriage takes precedence over your parenting and removes the luxury of selfish indulgence).
It feels strange to be writing this so soon after getting married. I mean, who am I to be saying this? But then again, who better to say it than someone who has been intensely focused on it like this? Eh, what does it matter anyway if I have a right to say it? Half of what gets written in blogs is written by people with no right to say such things.
Anyway, marriage is great. And sex is awesome.
3.02.2008
The cool night covers you like the chadow of powerful wings. The sky opens up a direct connection to things so far above me that I had forgotten how to access. The hunter is there, the dragon, the bears. Listening.
It is removed enough from the day to allow me to think more clearly and to open my heart and let him in. When I try to pray inside, I feel crippled.
One of the best things about coming home is going out on that loop again. One of the last free places that I can sing and pray out loud and not care who hears what I have to pray.
I miss my Father. I have been running too long. How can I push him this far from me so quickly? I need him to carry me again.
I know that what is bothering me is depression. I don't want to be this way, but changing it feels like changing the fabric I am made of.
I worry that this is another way that I am like my mother. I don't want to be depressed for thirty years.
One of the worst things about coming home is the doubting. I feel like things are secure until I get here. I know who I am, what I am about, and where I am going until I come home. It's like it has become a physical manifestation of reevaluating EVERYTHING. I can't do that. When I come back here, I often feel as though I am spiralling back into the depression and fear and doubt and hatred that consumed my childhood. I am not that child anymore. I don't want to be her, and I have changed.
I need someone to pull me out of the emptiness and into hope again. I can't get there on my own. I just don't know how to ask. Or who.
It is removed enough from the day to allow me to think more clearly and to open my heart and let him in. When I try to pray inside, I feel crippled.
One of the best things about coming home is going out on that loop again. One of the last free places that I can sing and pray out loud and not care who hears what I have to pray.
I miss my Father. I have been running too long. How can I push him this far from me so quickly? I need him to carry me again.
I know that what is bothering me is depression. I don't want to be this way, but changing it feels like changing the fabric I am made of.
I worry that this is another way that I am like my mother. I don't want to be depressed for thirty years.
One of the worst things about coming home is the doubting. I feel like things are secure until I get here. I know who I am, what I am about, and where I am going until I come home. It's like it has become a physical manifestation of reevaluating EVERYTHING. I can't do that. When I come back here, I often feel as though I am spiralling back into the depression and fear and doubt and hatred that consumed my childhood. I am not that child anymore. I don't want to be her, and I have changed.
I need someone to pull me out of the emptiness and into hope again. I can't get there on my own. I just don't know how to ask. Or who.
2.25.2008
Now on my list of things to do later in life:
fill a room in my home (at the very least a closet, but preferably a bathroom or bedroom or small empty room) with playpen balls.
I want my home to come complete with a ball-pit.
This is not an original idea. I must credit Stu for showing me the webcomic where there is a cartoon about this. (if you're curious, it's http://www.xkcd.com).
This link should be helpful in calculating the expense when I actually get around to doing this- http://www.chiliahedron.com/ballroom/?efficiency=64&footage=100&depth=2&radius=1.675&price=.19&ballcount=11236&ballcost=2134.84
fill a room in my home (at the very least a closet, but preferably a bathroom or bedroom or small empty room) with playpen balls.
I want my home to come complete with a ball-pit.
This is not an original idea. I must credit Stu for showing me the webcomic where there is a cartoon about this. (if you're curious, it's http://www.xkcd.com).
This link should be helpful in calculating the expense when I actually get around to doing this- http://www.chiliahedron.com/ballroom/?efficiency=64&footage=100&depth=2&radius=1.675&price=.19&ballcount=11236&ballcost=2134.84
2.12.2008
He is aptly named. Noah means "comforter."
I lie here on my couch listening to the music I will hear after i marry him, and though he is not here, I am comforted.
I made the mistake of reading those "tips for vulnerable women who go places alone even though there are so many men stronger than they are who want to hurt them" again. I know that they always make me paranoid.
I was enjoying having my door open and letting in the cool wet night air. Then I started thinking about how it was a bad idea because it was probably unsafe.
I am not a feminist.
I am scared of men because they are stronger than me and they've hurt me before.
Rumors of ways people attack women make me paranoid.
That's why I always look under the car and at the car on other sides when I return to the parking lot.
Is this "caution" worth the fear?
Something inside me yells that it isn't.
I am marrying him in 80 days. I'm not scared of this anymore.
Here are the little things I'm looking forward to:
~ checking the little "Mrs." box on forms
~ calling his parents "Mom" and "Dad"
~ kissing him when he comes home from work
~ having someone to comfort me from the nightmares
~ filling out the forms to change my name
~ seeing him when we wake up in the morning
~ holding his left hand and feeling a wedding ring
~ calling him my husband
~ hearing him call me his wife
~ making someplace home for us
~ praying with him
~ praying for him
~ taking communion with him
~ opening wedding gifts
~ sending thank you notes
~ naming children
~ watching him be a dad
~ having children that look like him
~ working with him
~ loving him
~ being loved
I miss him tonight. He was sad, but didn't have time to stay more than 20 minutes. Even just being around him makes the day better. I had a migraine today, but it didn't matter when he was here, because he brings peace when he comes- even when he is as upset and sad as he was tonight. I love who he is. This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I wasn't supposed to get someone worth this much. Sometimes I get a little scared that I'll be told there was some mistake and he was intended for someone else- and it'll all be gone. Then I remember that life is not a nightmare and that what I tell Ashley is true across the board and not just for her. God is comforting.
I made the mistake of reading those "tips for vulnerable women who go places alone even though there are so many men stronger than they are who want to hurt them" again. I know that they always make me paranoid.
I was enjoying having my door open and letting in the cool wet night air. Then I started thinking about how it was a bad idea because it was probably unsafe.
I am not a feminist.
I am scared of men because they are stronger than me and they've hurt me before.
Rumors of ways people attack women make me paranoid.
That's why I always look under the car and at the car on other sides when I return to the parking lot.
Is this "caution" worth the fear?
Something inside me yells that it isn't.
I am marrying him in 80 days. I'm not scared of this anymore.
Here are the little things I'm looking forward to:
~ checking the little "Mrs." box on forms
~ calling his parents "Mom" and "Dad"
~ kissing him when he comes home from work
~ having someone to comfort me from the nightmares
~ filling out the forms to change my name
~ seeing him when we wake up in the morning
~ holding his left hand and feeling a wedding ring
~ calling him my husband
~ hearing him call me his wife
~ making someplace home for us
~ praying with him
~ praying for him
~ taking communion with him
~ opening wedding gifts
~ sending thank you notes
~ naming children
~ watching him be a dad
~ having children that look like him
~ working with him
~ loving him
~ being loved
I miss him tonight. He was sad, but didn't have time to stay more than 20 minutes. Even just being around him makes the day better. I had a migraine today, but it didn't matter when he was here, because he brings peace when he comes- even when he is as upset and sad as he was tonight. I love who he is. This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I wasn't supposed to get someone worth this much. Sometimes I get a little scared that I'll be told there was some mistake and he was intended for someone else- and it'll all be gone. Then I remember that life is not a nightmare and that what I tell Ashley is true across the board and not just for her. God is comforting.
1.15.2008
supplicatory posting
So many people who are dear to me are discouraged right now. Oddly enough, I'm not. This is a strange role reversal. I'm not quite sure how to process it. I am rather uncertain of what to do...
Father, help me know how to comfort those who so often comfort me.
Father, help me know how to comfort those who so often comfort me.
1.13.2008
I don't know why I am awake anymore.
It is 5:03 in the morning.
I need sleep.
I am sick.
I am horribly bad at getting the things done that I need to.
I hope that writing all of that out will be good in the long run, but I really don't want to ever ever recall it again.
I am very sad.
I don't want to go to my dark room when I am this sad.
Deep down, I am still a small child, and the dark is scary.
I want to grow past that.
I need sleep.
I am sick.
I am horribly bad at getting the things done that I need to.
I hope that writing all of that out will be good in the long run, but I really don't want to ever ever recall it again.
I am very sad.
I don't want to go to my dark room when I am this sad.
Deep down, I am still a small child, and the dark is scary.
I want to grow past that.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)