I'm thinking it's about time I learn to grow up and shut up.
There's a popular phrase circulating in society today: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Google credits the quote to Plato, but with the abundance of incorrectly credited quotes on the internet, I tentatively include it here. Most people agree with this quote; it is not difficult to see its truth. Only on the occasion in which you suffer from its truth, however, does it seem like something you should actually do.
"You annoy me sometimes." Spoken directly to my face, amidst a circle of friends. At least, I hope they're my friends, lest they be thinking something similar. A comment like this normally would have buzzed a nerve and then been forgotten completely, had it not occurred during one of the longest days I've had all year. When I say long, I mean painful. Unbeknown to the speaker, I had just been through an ordeal in which I had to hurt someone I dearly care about, an ordeal which equally hurt me. There is nothing worse than knowing you are horrible enough to be able to hurt someone and claiming to yourself you care about them at the same time, even if you genuinely do. I am just enough of a miserable wretch to try and dull the sting by attending a celebration - and by refusing to reveal to anyone exactly how awful I feel. Fortunately, God granted me time with many delightful people who were able to keep me laughing for most of the celebration, something for which I am incredibly grateful. I am not anywhere near as funny as they are, though, so most of what I said fell flat and led to a brief lull in the conversation until one of the funny people spoke again. As I've said before, I know I'm not funny, but on a day like this, you foolishly care about everything.
So, with some true and some fake smiles, dull comments that everyone ignores, half-hearted dancing and swallowed emotions, I made it through the rest of the day. Right as I was preparing to leave came the comment: "You annoy me sometimes." I don't remember what I said to earn that comment. I responded to it with a laugh and continued with my charade. Now, though, that comment sits as the cherry on top of the load of bull I dug through that day. Along with every other insult I'm granting to myself, I have that to acknowledge, spoken by someone I considered a good friend. Not only am I horrible for hurting people close to me and stupidly stubborn for making myself appear heartlessly unaffected, I am also annoying. Marvelous. Hey, Plato, could you say that a little louder next time? I don't think some of us heard you...
Maybe it's about time I stop making comments that aren't funny and give up my tendency to tease people I consider friends. I know I don't follow Plato's quote as well as I should, either. Maybe it's time I only say what is absolutely necessary to say, to eliminate romance and embrace logic, to sit in silence within myself and speak when spoken to. In my old Bible, I underlined every single proverb that mentioned how the words of a fool contrast with the silence of the wise - perhaps it is time I start listening.
I miss my best friends (the ones I mentioned in the earlier post). They hear everything I say and know all the stupid things I do, and they tell me to snap out of it but with a hug. I love them so much and wish I could spend as much time with them now as I did in high school. I have some friends in college that are just as good to me, and I love them just as much. I should be able to honor them with the same honesty with which I honor my friends from home. Another flaw of mine.
Okay, Plato, I'm listening.
"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise." 10:19
"Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing." 12:18
"A prudent man keeps his knowledge to himself, but the heart of a fool blurts out folly." 12:23
"A fool finds no pleasure in understanding, but delights in airing his own opinions." 18:2
"The words of a man's mouth are deep waters, but the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook." 18:4
"A fool's mouth is his undoing, and his lips are a snare to his soul." 18:7
"He who answers before listening - that is his folly and his shame." 18:13
Proverbs (and many more...)
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Dream Guilt
I believe God speaks to me in dreams. Following that statement, I would expect many different opinions about the nature of God in dreams. I am aware of the spiritual ideas of prophesy and visions, although the concepts are still somewhat new to me, having been raised in a Catholic church. I accept those ideas for what they are, but they are not what I am writing about today.
God has spoken to me in radically unconventional ways. He has written my name in the sky, tossed my own words in my face through a television sitcom, delivered me into uncannily perfect settings for conversations - all in response to very specific prayers I had made. I think it is very easy to distinguish between God and coincidence; the feeling that accompanies God's signs to me is often an overwhelming sense of truth, awe, and irony. Dreams, though, are much more difficult for me to decipher. I struggle with them. Most times, I think God uses my dreams not for prophetic visions or profound injunctions, but to reflect the things I most need and hate to see.
I have learned enough about psychology to understand the basics about dreaming. The parts of our lives causing us to think, worry, and stress are the ones most likely to project on our eyelids at night. From what I understand, dreaming also assists the mind in organizing information and recalling experiences. I can certainly attest to these facts; I have had enough dreams of mountain lion attacks to irrevocably cement my fear of them. It is the combination of psychology and faith which causes me to dwell on the residual emotions of my dreams and why my reaction to some of them is so powerful.
Last night's dream is giving me great qualms about myself. I will not describe it here (some things are better kept personal), but I will emphasize my tendency to feel real guilt for imaginary actions. For example, last summer, I had a dream that I had betrayed my best friend's boyfriend to modern-day pirates, who later killed him for his failures. In the dream, I hadn't known he would be punished, and was caught in a horrible trap when my best friend was leaning on me in her devastation, ignorant of my role in her boyfriend's death. It took almost an hour to console myself upon waking; something about the sequence had broken my heart with guilt and left me crying for what I had only done in my sleep. The dream I had last night left me with a similar guilt, though not quite of the same sort. Thankfully, nobody was killed this time! My conscience is perturbed, however, by my dream actions and nonchalance. The guilt of subtleties is incredibly as powerful as the guilt of drastic action.
I wonder now if it is reasonable to feel this way. Obviously, I know I am not to hold myself, nor anyone else, accountable for what happens in my dreams. If this dream is a reflection of what is actually happening in my mind, on the other hand, it needs heavy consideration. I do think God uses dreams to turn us to face what we keep submerged in the trenches of our consciousness, and if this is what I have buried in my head, I have some ugly things to face. I know some people would probably tell me to let it go, that dreams have nothing to do with reality and simply surface in odd combinations of characters and events, but something about this last one feels deliberate. Deliberate, too true for my liking, and a very ugly form of ironic. Knowing God, though, He loves to speak to me in terms of irony, and this would not be strange for Him.
I feel this dream pushing me into action. I know I carry false guilt, and will attempt to relieve it, but I cannot ignore its weight or importance. Unfortunately, my actions will have to be postponed for reasons out of my control, but I certainly feel an immense amount of self-examination to be had immediately.
"For God does speak - now one way, now another - though no one perceives it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber in their beds, he may speak in their ears and terrify them with warnings, to turn them from wrongdoing and keep them from pride, to preserve them from the pit, their lives perishing by the sword.
Pay attention, Job, and listen to me; be silent, and I will speak. If you have anything to say, answer me; speak up, for I want to vindicate you. But if not, then listen to me; be silent, and I will teach you wisdom."
Job 33:14-18, 31-33
God has spoken to me in radically unconventional ways. He has written my name in the sky, tossed my own words in my face through a television sitcom, delivered me into uncannily perfect settings for conversations - all in response to very specific prayers I had made. I think it is very easy to distinguish between God and coincidence; the feeling that accompanies God's signs to me is often an overwhelming sense of truth, awe, and irony. Dreams, though, are much more difficult for me to decipher. I struggle with them. Most times, I think God uses my dreams not for prophetic visions or profound injunctions, but to reflect the things I most need and hate to see.
I have learned enough about psychology to understand the basics about dreaming. The parts of our lives causing us to think, worry, and stress are the ones most likely to project on our eyelids at night. From what I understand, dreaming also assists the mind in organizing information and recalling experiences. I can certainly attest to these facts; I have had enough dreams of mountain lion attacks to irrevocably cement my fear of them. It is the combination of psychology and faith which causes me to dwell on the residual emotions of my dreams and why my reaction to some of them is so powerful.
Last night's dream is giving me great qualms about myself. I will not describe it here (some things are better kept personal), but I will emphasize my tendency to feel real guilt for imaginary actions. For example, last summer, I had a dream that I had betrayed my best friend's boyfriend to modern-day pirates, who later killed him for his failures. In the dream, I hadn't known he would be punished, and was caught in a horrible trap when my best friend was leaning on me in her devastation, ignorant of my role in her boyfriend's death. It took almost an hour to console myself upon waking; something about the sequence had broken my heart with guilt and left me crying for what I had only done in my sleep. The dream I had last night left me with a similar guilt, though not quite of the same sort. Thankfully, nobody was killed this time! My conscience is perturbed, however, by my dream actions and nonchalance. The guilt of subtleties is incredibly as powerful as the guilt of drastic action.
I wonder now if it is reasonable to feel this way. Obviously, I know I am not to hold myself, nor anyone else, accountable for what happens in my dreams. If this dream is a reflection of what is actually happening in my mind, on the other hand, it needs heavy consideration. I do think God uses dreams to turn us to face what we keep submerged in the trenches of our consciousness, and if this is what I have buried in my head, I have some ugly things to face. I know some people would probably tell me to let it go, that dreams have nothing to do with reality and simply surface in odd combinations of characters and events, but something about this last one feels deliberate. Deliberate, too true for my liking, and a very ugly form of ironic. Knowing God, though, He loves to speak to me in terms of irony, and this would not be strange for Him.
I feel this dream pushing me into action. I know I carry false guilt, and will attempt to relieve it, but I cannot ignore its weight or importance. Unfortunately, my actions will have to be postponed for reasons out of my control, but I certainly feel an immense amount of self-examination to be had immediately.
"For God does speak - now one way, now another - though no one perceives it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber in their beds, he may speak in their ears and terrify them with warnings, to turn them from wrongdoing and keep them from pride, to preserve them from the pit, their lives perishing by the sword.
Pay attention, Job, and listen to me; be silent, and I will speak. If you have anything to say, answer me; speak up, for I want to vindicate you. But if not, then listen to me; be silent, and I will teach you wisdom."
Job 33:14-18, 31-33
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Beret and a Bible Gets a Makeover
Several months have passed since I last wrote on this blog. There is no significant reason why I ceased writing, other than the busyness that accompanies the end of the school year and the advent of summer. The passing time, though, has split my rose-colored glasses, and I am finally able to see through the cracks.
This summer I have been spending a lot of time with my best friends from high school. As expected, the reunions were more than welcome and direly needed. I sank into time with my best friends as a palm on a sleeping bag about to be rolled up, which sighs as the air squeezes out through tight zippers. We told each other all of our stories, struggles, frustrations, joys and questions. We perplexed each other with tangled situations and tested each other with probing statements and honest opinions. We laughed, ranted, made fun of each other, and ate like we still had our high school metabolisms. I couldn't be more thankful for these girls and what they do for my soul.
Today, the second one leaves for school again. She invited me over last night for dinner at her house with her family and one of our other best friends (there are five of us). We spent the night talking, drinking tea, and whooping and hollering to tears over our yearbooks. As I left her house, I began to think about how easy it is to be back with these people, even after I spend about nine months of the year away from them - and how difficult it can be to spend time around those I see every day at college.
This is when I reach the point of reconsidering everything I've done in college thus far. Do I regret anything? Not really. I have realized, however, several things that high school me would have been disgusted to have seen change. These are things I had sworn I would never compromise, things I held dear to my heart as elements of my own truth. They are things I look at like a complicated report that I just don't want to evaluate, for lack of compassion with its given results.
I molded elements of myself to pass through others' judgment.
I didn't put my foot down when enough was enough.
I tried to be close with people I knew I couldn't really care about the way I do my best friends.
These are just a few of the aforementioned failures. High school me would have slaughtered me for these, especially the first. Who do I think I am to change for others? Not only is that detrimental to myself, it is detrimental to those I change for - they don't know me completely, and that takes away their right to decide if they want to really love me or not. I have given up details that infuse me with happiness and ease. I have restrained habits or quirks that may not interest others. I have actually followed trends of the majority.
In addition to that, I have also let things like this keep happening. I have kept myself struggling to keep up, to fit, to sway with the waves that come my way. I have rolled water off my back that should have soaked my feathers long ago. I have kept my mouth shut in an effort to choose my battles, only to avoid the entire war. I stood up for others less and not at all for myself.
I do think it is a noble pursuit to love and be kind to everyone. I like being friendly with people. I enjoy the casual passing hellos as much as I do the rolling, cavorting conversations. I do not, however, think it is necessary to attempt to learn everything possible about people with whom I just do not get along on a "deeper level." I, like anyone else, am drawn to particular personalities, and am averted to others. It doesn't have to be a personal insult to anyone if I don't want to be their best friend (in fact, I would really be surprised if anyone thought of it that way, and I doubt anyone would). Acquaintances are just as valuable as friendships. I do NOT need to befriend everyone in order to be a good person.
All of this considered, I am deeply grateful for the growth of my two years in college. Many beneficial changes have occurred as well as the negative ones. My faith in God, for example, has grown exponentially, and I would never dare to look back on the years without Him with anything more than relief. I have always believed in God, ever since I was a little girl; the things I have learned about Him and myself these past couple years are irreplaceable and immeasurably valuable to me. I want with all my heart to continue following Him with earnest desire, and to chase Him as the most intense and powerful romance of my life. God is good, God is powerful, God is all we could ever dream and more - He is the one good change.
I want to follow God as me. 100% me.
So, I'm sorry to anyone who did not see every side of me. I apologize to everyone who did not witness every truth I carry, be it personal or trivial. Every identity I represented was a true one, but they were all pieces of the truth. From now onward, I will not edit myself. I will be myself again. Here are some bits to start with:
I like Green Day and other inappropriate, drugged-out punk rock bands. I also like metal, country, alternative pop/rock and the occasional rap song. I know not everything I listen to worships God, but God lives in my heart, not in my ears. I do not believe enjoyment of other sounds takes away from the love I carry for Him.
Same with movies.
Literature is the second greatest love of my life. God gave me the obsession with words for a reason, so I will continue to follow it. Don't sue me if it takes a while for me to do something with it.
I hate beating around the bush. I hate softening my opinions so as not to be "offensive." What I see as truth, I will offer. I hate hurting people, but I think it is worse to withhold opinions on truly important things. If you want to hear something particular, tell me what to say. I may or may not say it to you. "Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses." Proverbs 27:6
I do NOT believe there is a right way to do everything. Some things, of course. Not everything. These arguments are futile. Stop arguing about things that vary among individuals (dating, anyone?) and start arguing about issues that really matter and can benefit from passionate discussion.
Sometimes I like makeup. Sometimes I don't. Dressing up does not make me a heathen or an ungodly woman. True, I have moments of vanity, but many people do, and I work on that. I am not perfect. Stop making people feel like they are worthless, trashy, world-obsessed women if they want to play with their appearance a little. Makeup is like crayons for girls - the sparkly ones!
If you are not overly fond of me, I would prefer to skip the false interest in the depths of my life.
I am loud and sometimes obnoxious. I take jokes too far and make the most awkward ones just as the room falls silent. My voice rises as things get funnier. I know it's not appealing to everyone, but I like to laugh. I don't think I'm funny, I just say stuff anyway.
I get angry about things I care for, whether they be people, issues, or trivial pursuits. Anger does not mean hatred. I have come a long, long way with my temper (thanks Jesus), and have a long way to go. I am under no pretenses that all my anger is righteous, and I think about things now before I react. Sometimes, though, in an attempt (as stated before) to choose my battles, I end up gathering anger in my chest. Don't be surprised if it surfaces in a random conversation.
As vain and sinful and selfish as I am, I care far more about others than I will ever care about myself. Things hurting others are what hurt me the most.
I have a small taste for rebellion of the harmless nature. Sometimes I think dirty jokes are funny. Sometimes I play pranks. I tease friends. I am a tomboy; rough-and-tumble punches don't seem strange to me. Sometimes I side with the underdog for the sake of opposing the majority. Whatever.
I believe a person can learn from dating. For God's sake, I have not lost my soul for dating more than one person in my life!
There are millions of little bits of me that I will not list here - I will be surprised if any of you read this far. I just think it is about time I reclaim my identity. I want to relax the way I do with my best friends. They love me when I love them, when I hate them, when I pamper them and when I treat them poorly. They love me when I am stupid and when I am wise. They love me when I date dumb guys and when I ease them through nasty breakups. They love me when I ignore their advice and when they laugh at me as I realize they were right. They love everything about me, and that is why they stay. Whether they are as invested in God as I am, they reflect more of Him than many of the people I am told are better for me than non-Christians (this is not an attack on anyone; be offended if you want, but it is not intended that way). So, I give up trying to fit in the neat little drawer that is supposed to be my sanctuary. My sanctuary is God, and He has given me every bit of myself, including the people I love, who truly are a part of me. I am chasing Him and looking back for nothing, and bringing the people I love who truly love me on the way. I am at home in myself again.
I am back.
"All man's efforts are for his mouth, yet his appetite is never satisfied. What advantage has a wise man over a fool? What does a poor man gain by knowing how to conduct himself before others? Better what the eye sees than the roving of the appetite. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
Whatever exists has already been named, and what man is has been known; no man can contend with one who is stronger than he. The more the words, the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone?
For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?"
Ecclesiastes 6:7-12
This summer I have been spending a lot of time with my best friends from high school. As expected, the reunions were more than welcome and direly needed. I sank into time with my best friends as a palm on a sleeping bag about to be rolled up, which sighs as the air squeezes out through tight zippers. We told each other all of our stories, struggles, frustrations, joys and questions. We perplexed each other with tangled situations and tested each other with probing statements and honest opinions. We laughed, ranted, made fun of each other, and ate like we still had our high school metabolisms. I couldn't be more thankful for these girls and what they do for my soul.
Today, the second one leaves for school again. She invited me over last night for dinner at her house with her family and one of our other best friends (there are five of us). We spent the night talking, drinking tea, and whooping and hollering to tears over our yearbooks. As I left her house, I began to think about how easy it is to be back with these people, even after I spend about nine months of the year away from them - and how difficult it can be to spend time around those I see every day at college.
This is when I reach the point of reconsidering everything I've done in college thus far. Do I regret anything? Not really. I have realized, however, several things that high school me would have been disgusted to have seen change. These are things I had sworn I would never compromise, things I held dear to my heart as elements of my own truth. They are things I look at like a complicated report that I just don't want to evaluate, for lack of compassion with its given results.
I molded elements of myself to pass through others' judgment.
I didn't put my foot down when enough was enough.
I tried to be close with people I knew I couldn't really care about the way I do my best friends.
These are just a few of the aforementioned failures. High school me would have slaughtered me for these, especially the first. Who do I think I am to change for others? Not only is that detrimental to myself, it is detrimental to those I change for - they don't know me completely, and that takes away their right to decide if they want to really love me or not. I have given up details that infuse me with happiness and ease. I have restrained habits or quirks that may not interest others. I have actually followed trends of the majority.
In addition to that, I have also let things like this keep happening. I have kept myself struggling to keep up, to fit, to sway with the waves that come my way. I have rolled water off my back that should have soaked my feathers long ago. I have kept my mouth shut in an effort to choose my battles, only to avoid the entire war. I stood up for others less and not at all for myself.
I do think it is a noble pursuit to love and be kind to everyone. I like being friendly with people. I enjoy the casual passing hellos as much as I do the rolling, cavorting conversations. I do not, however, think it is necessary to attempt to learn everything possible about people with whom I just do not get along on a "deeper level." I, like anyone else, am drawn to particular personalities, and am averted to others. It doesn't have to be a personal insult to anyone if I don't want to be their best friend (in fact, I would really be surprised if anyone thought of it that way, and I doubt anyone would). Acquaintances are just as valuable as friendships. I do NOT need to befriend everyone in order to be a good person.
All of this considered, I am deeply grateful for the growth of my two years in college. Many beneficial changes have occurred as well as the negative ones. My faith in God, for example, has grown exponentially, and I would never dare to look back on the years without Him with anything more than relief. I have always believed in God, ever since I was a little girl; the things I have learned about Him and myself these past couple years are irreplaceable and immeasurably valuable to me. I want with all my heart to continue following Him with earnest desire, and to chase Him as the most intense and powerful romance of my life. God is good, God is powerful, God is all we could ever dream and more - He is the one good change.
I want to follow God as me. 100% me.
So, I'm sorry to anyone who did not see every side of me. I apologize to everyone who did not witness every truth I carry, be it personal or trivial. Every identity I represented was a true one, but they were all pieces of the truth. From now onward, I will not edit myself. I will be myself again. Here are some bits to start with:
I like Green Day and other inappropriate, drugged-out punk rock bands. I also like metal, country, alternative pop/rock and the occasional rap song. I know not everything I listen to worships God, but God lives in my heart, not in my ears. I do not believe enjoyment of other sounds takes away from the love I carry for Him.
Same with movies.
Literature is the second greatest love of my life. God gave me the obsession with words for a reason, so I will continue to follow it. Don't sue me if it takes a while for me to do something with it.
I hate beating around the bush. I hate softening my opinions so as not to be "offensive." What I see as truth, I will offer. I hate hurting people, but I think it is worse to withhold opinions on truly important things. If you want to hear something particular, tell me what to say. I may or may not say it to you. "Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses." Proverbs 27:6
I do NOT believe there is a right way to do everything. Some things, of course. Not everything. These arguments are futile. Stop arguing about things that vary among individuals (dating, anyone?) and start arguing about issues that really matter and can benefit from passionate discussion.
Sometimes I like makeup. Sometimes I don't. Dressing up does not make me a heathen or an ungodly woman. True, I have moments of vanity, but many people do, and I work on that. I am not perfect. Stop making people feel like they are worthless, trashy, world-obsessed women if they want to play with their appearance a little. Makeup is like crayons for girls - the sparkly ones!
If you are not overly fond of me, I would prefer to skip the false interest in the depths of my life.
I am loud and sometimes obnoxious. I take jokes too far and make the most awkward ones just as the room falls silent. My voice rises as things get funnier. I know it's not appealing to everyone, but I like to laugh. I don't think I'm funny, I just say stuff anyway.
I get angry about things I care for, whether they be people, issues, or trivial pursuits. Anger does not mean hatred. I have come a long, long way with my temper (thanks Jesus), and have a long way to go. I am under no pretenses that all my anger is righteous, and I think about things now before I react. Sometimes, though, in an attempt (as stated before) to choose my battles, I end up gathering anger in my chest. Don't be surprised if it surfaces in a random conversation.
As vain and sinful and selfish as I am, I care far more about others than I will ever care about myself. Things hurting others are what hurt me the most.
I have a small taste for rebellion of the harmless nature. Sometimes I think dirty jokes are funny. Sometimes I play pranks. I tease friends. I am a tomboy; rough-and-tumble punches don't seem strange to me. Sometimes I side with the underdog for the sake of opposing the majority. Whatever.
I believe a person can learn from dating. For God's sake, I have not lost my soul for dating more than one person in my life!
There are millions of little bits of me that I will not list here - I will be surprised if any of you read this far. I just think it is about time I reclaim my identity. I want to relax the way I do with my best friends. They love me when I love them, when I hate them, when I pamper them and when I treat them poorly. They love me when I am stupid and when I am wise. They love me when I date dumb guys and when I ease them through nasty breakups. They love me when I ignore their advice and when they laugh at me as I realize they were right. They love everything about me, and that is why they stay. Whether they are as invested in God as I am, they reflect more of Him than many of the people I am told are better for me than non-Christians (this is not an attack on anyone; be offended if you want, but it is not intended that way). So, I give up trying to fit in the neat little drawer that is supposed to be my sanctuary. My sanctuary is God, and He has given me every bit of myself, including the people I love, who truly are a part of me. I am chasing Him and looking back for nothing, and bringing the people I love who truly love me on the way. I am at home in myself again.
I am back.
"All man's efforts are for his mouth, yet his appetite is never satisfied. What advantage has a wise man over a fool? What does a poor man gain by knowing how to conduct himself before others? Better what the eye sees than the roving of the appetite. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
Whatever exists has already been named, and what man is has been known; no man can contend with one who is stronger than he. The more the words, the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone?
For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?"
Ecclesiastes 6:7-12
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Social "Graces" and Real Grace
"We shall flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be." - The Boondock Saints
"Oh, my anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain. Oh, the agony of my heart! My heart pounds within me, I cannot keep silent. For I have heard the sound of the trumpet; I have heard the battle cry." Jeremiah 4:19
Your blood swells under your skin. Heat ascends from your core, saturating your cheeks, palms, and neck. You feel every cell in your chest tense tightly, and your heartbeat rises from inaudible to a muted bumping sound punctuating every word you hear.
We have all felt the intolerable sting of injustice. It burns into our eyes, flares in our skulls, hitches in our breath. As in The Boondock Saints, many of us strongly desire some sort of tangible retribution for those who commit atrocities against us, be them subtle or outrageous. We have all also suffered an overt sense of self-righteousness that many a time causes such mistakes we would never have made had we not felt entitled to certain rights. Most of the time, these things that anger us go against basics human instinct, inflicting major harm upon others. What about the times when these injustices exist only for us?
Recently, I have been feeling perturbed by many aspects of society. Gender rules, the dating game, the way "uncool" people are treated and the rules for what establishes someone as socially acceptable... It's all bull. To me, people should be seen as people. Nothing more, nothing less. Does it really define a woman as marriage material if, upon first sight, she happens to be dolled up and dressed to impress? What about the girl in jeans and a t-shirt? Must a guy be six feet tall, muscular and bossy to be husband material? What about the guy in the corner booth of the library, with glasses and skinny arms? I am so angry with all of the expectations we hold for each other in this society! By no means am I excluding myself - growing up in this world, it is difficult not to succumb to such social "graces." Over this past quarter, however, I have realized just how much of myself I have lost to such stereotypically pleasing standards. Some change, of course, is good - if I had not changed at all in college, I would be less of a person than I am now. Too much change, however, is not. Certain aspects of my personality have been squashed in attempts to make me more "pleasing" to what others expect, and I have no one but myself to blame. Why do I do such things? Why do I feel so tightly chained to the expectations of American society that I only allow myself to run to the end of the leash and bark?
The only opinion of me I should be letting affect my person is God's opinion. Every little change I make to please others is completely dependent on which type of person I want to please, whereas with God, the changes He asks of me are the ones that make me a better person. The changes God demands are the ones that serve Him, and by serving Him, I am serving others. If I simply aim to please social eyes, however, I will not be pleasing God at all. As cliche as it may be, my King has called me to be exactly how He made me, flaws and quirks included. He has built me as a house, and I am not about to turn it away because of a leaky faucet. From this day forward, I aim to please first and foremost my Lord, who created me to be as I am and change as He sees fit. I am done pretending.
"We are not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts." 1 Thessalonians 2:4
"Oh, my anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain. Oh, the agony of my heart! My heart pounds within me, I cannot keep silent. For I have heard the sound of the trumpet; I have heard the battle cry." Jeremiah 4:19
Your blood swells under your skin. Heat ascends from your core, saturating your cheeks, palms, and neck. You feel every cell in your chest tense tightly, and your heartbeat rises from inaudible to a muted bumping sound punctuating every word you hear.
We have all felt the intolerable sting of injustice. It burns into our eyes, flares in our skulls, hitches in our breath. As in The Boondock Saints, many of us strongly desire some sort of tangible retribution for those who commit atrocities against us, be them subtle or outrageous. We have all also suffered an overt sense of self-righteousness that many a time causes such mistakes we would never have made had we not felt entitled to certain rights. Most of the time, these things that anger us go against basics human instinct, inflicting major harm upon others. What about the times when these injustices exist only for us?
Recently, I have been feeling perturbed by many aspects of society. Gender rules, the dating game, the way "uncool" people are treated and the rules for what establishes someone as socially acceptable... It's all bull. To me, people should be seen as people. Nothing more, nothing less. Does it really define a woman as marriage material if, upon first sight, she happens to be dolled up and dressed to impress? What about the girl in jeans and a t-shirt? Must a guy be six feet tall, muscular and bossy to be husband material? What about the guy in the corner booth of the library, with glasses and skinny arms? I am so angry with all of the expectations we hold for each other in this society! By no means am I excluding myself - growing up in this world, it is difficult not to succumb to such social "graces." Over this past quarter, however, I have realized just how much of myself I have lost to such stereotypically pleasing standards. Some change, of course, is good - if I had not changed at all in college, I would be less of a person than I am now. Too much change, however, is not. Certain aspects of my personality have been squashed in attempts to make me more "pleasing" to what others expect, and I have no one but myself to blame. Why do I do such things? Why do I feel so tightly chained to the expectations of American society that I only allow myself to run to the end of the leash and bark?
The only opinion of me I should be letting affect my person is God's opinion. Every little change I make to please others is completely dependent on which type of person I want to please, whereas with God, the changes He asks of me are the ones that make me a better person. The changes God demands are the ones that serve Him, and by serving Him, I am serving others. If I simply aim to please social eyes, however, I will not be pleasing God at all. As cliche as it may be, my King has called me to be exactly how He made me, flaws and quirks included. He has built me as a house, and I am not about to turn it away because of a leaky faucet. From this day forward, I aim to please first and foremost my Lord, who created me to be as I am and change as He sees fit. I am done pretending.
"We are not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts." 1 Thessalonians 2:4
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Mourning Dew
"Take this sorrow to thy heart, and make it a part of thee, and it shall nourish thee til thou art strong again." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Do not say, 'Why were the old days better than these?' For it is not wise to ask such questions." Ecclesiastes 7:10
Sorrow, the evasive dew that weighs down the spry leaves growing in our souls, is nearly impossible to eliminate. Like the dew that collects on the outer foliage of the earth, sorrow is too vast to press a cloth to each leaf and wipe away the sadness; one must wait until the dawning of the airy sun for all the mist to evaporate. 'Tis not ultimately unbearable, for one to await the gradual dawning of their own sun, for most know the moment will come when their sorrows will dissipate. Holding the sorrow of another, however, is less like dew - it is heaver and thicker, sticking to the soul relentlessly. It is like a wounded tree spilling its dense sap onto the leaves of the ground. Both suffer the weight of one's injury.
It is much easier to await the light of God's arrival on my own dampened spirit than it is to await His arrival to another. When I am unable to assist relieving another's tragic sorrow, and unsure if they are aware the light will dawn, I am the leaves of the ground catching the sap from the adjacent tree. I yearn to provide an artificial sun, one that will dawn and dry up the original sorrow on the other's soul, so they may heal and sap will no longer be spilled. Despite this desperate longing, I am unable to conjure such a sun, and am left frantic, fearful that the weight bending my stem will be too much to bear.
The one part I am forgetting, however, is the part that matters most. Sap does not evaporate like the delicate dews of the morning - it sticks and rolls, leaving hindering traces of its substance behind. To truly rid myself of such sap, someone else would need to come cleanse my leaves with hands untouched; said person would also cleanse the wounded tree, stifling the flow of sap and healing the original injury. This person is the Savior of the world, the Lamb of God. I cannot control the injuries of others (or myself), and cannot bear the burden on my own. I need Jesus to come rescue me from the weight of sorrow and replenish the sun in my soul. He is the dawning light I need to evaporate my sorrow, and the hand I must await to wipe away the sap upon me. No artificial sun could ever replace the love and power of my God, Jesus Christ, the protector of all and the eternal King.
"When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, no one can discover anything about his future." Ecclesiastes 7:14
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3
"Do not say, 'Why were the old days better than these?' For it is not wise to ask such questions." Ecclesiastes 7:10
Sorrow, the evasive dew that weighs down the spry leaves growing in our souls, is nearly impossible to eliminate. Like the dew that collects on the outer foliage of the earth, sorrow is too vast to press a cloth to each leaf and wipe away the sadness; one must wait until the dawning of the airy sun for all the mist to evaporate. 'Tis not ultimately unbearable, for one to await the gradual dawning of their own sun, for most know the moment will come when their sorrows will dissipate. Holding the sorrow of another, however, is less like dew - it is heaver and thicker, sticking to the soul relentlessly. It is like a wounded tree spilling its dense sap onto the leaves of the ground. Both suffer the weight of one's injury.
It is much easier to await the light of God's arrival on my own dampened spirit than it is to await His arrival to another. When I am unable to assist relieving another's tragic sorrow, and unsure if they are aware the light will dawn, I am the leaves of the ground catching the sap from the adjacent tree. I yearn to provide an artificial sun, one that will dawn and dry up the original sorrow on the other's soul, so they may heal and sap will no longer be spilled. Despite this desperate longing, I am unable to conjure such a sun, and am left frantic, fearful that the weight bending my stem will be too much to bear.
The one part I am forgetting, however, is the part that matters most. Sap does not evaporate like the delicate dews of the morning - it sticks and rolls, leaving hindering traces of its substance behind. To truly rid myself of such sap, someone else would need to come cleanse my leaves with hands untouched; said person would also cleanse the wounded tree, stifling the flow of sap and healing the original injury. This person is the Savior of the world, the Lamb of God. I cannot control the injuries of others (or myself), and cannot bear the burden on my own. I need Jesus to come rescue me from the weight of sorrow and replenish the sun in my soul. He is the dawning light I need to evaporate my sorrow, and the hand I must await to wipe away the sap upon me. No artificial sun could ever replace the love and power of my God, Jesus Christ, the protector of all and the eternal King.
"When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, no one can discover anything about his future." Ecclesiastes 7:14
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3
Monday, March 5, 2012
Indelible Joy
"Laughter is the best medicine." - Unknown
"Sarah said, 'God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.'" Genesis 21:6
Of the greatest joys in the world, almost none are comparable to the pure sensation of laughter. An empty expectancy spontaneously explodes into carbonated bubbles and rapidly ascends through the core of the body, hastily tickling the heart and bursting open at the lips, releasing discordant waves of the most beautifully out of tune voices. The uncontrolled, buoyant expression of glee tickles tension out of the torso and touches the soul with a dash of freedom, gently persuading it to relinquish uneasiness, letting it drift from the body and soar out into the air, swirling toward the sun.
I most love the moments when such laughter is a direct result from our Lord. Truthfully, all joy is the gift of God, but often it is easy to miss His presence in the fun of each giggle. When I remember His love in the midst of laughter, however, my reality is tinged with a richness that saturates every atom of my being, expanding its radiance to the world surrounding me. I can laugh at everything from the twitch of an eye to a playful grin to a bad joke to an eccentric slip to an accurate satire to nothing but the bubbles in my core, spreading through my blood and filling me with the lightness of air I can only attribute to the Spirit.
I especially love the delicate fizz in my heart as the bubbles lightly pop and fade, resting with the laughter as it sinks into a steady smile.
"I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and rejoice in you; I will sing the praises of your name, O Most High." Psalm 9:1-2
"Sarah said, 'God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.'" Genesis 21:6
Of the greatest joys in the world, almost none are comparable to the pure sensation of laughter. An empty expectancy spontaneously explodes into carbonated bubbles and rapidly ascends through the core of the body, hastily tickling the heart and bursting open at the lips, releasing discordant waves of the most beautifully out of tune voices. The uncontrolled, buoyant expression of glee tickles tension out of the torso and touches the soul with a dash of freedom, gently persuading it to relinquish uneasiness, letting it drift from the body and soar out into the air, swirling toward the sun.
I most love the moments when such laughter is a direct result from our Lord. Truthfully, all joy is the gift of God, but often it is easy to miss His presence in the fun of each giggle. When I remember His love in the midst of laughter, however, my reality is tinged with a richness that saturates every atom of my being, expanding its radiance to the world surrounding me. I can laugh at everything from the twitch of an eye to a playful grin to a bad joke to an eccentric slip to an accurate satire to nothing but the bubbles in my core, spreading through my blood and filling me with the lightness of air I can only attribute to the Spirit.
I especially love the delicate fizz in my heart as the bubbles lightly pop and fade, resting with the laughter as it sinks into a steady smile.
"I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and rejoice in you; I will sing the praises of your name, O Most High." Psalm 9:1-2
Monday, February 27, 2012
The Marrow of the Matter
I can read a passage a thousand times, and never capture its heart.
"From the same source I have not taken/ my sorrow; I could not awaken/ my heart to joy at the same tone;/ and all I lov'd, I lov'd alone." - Edgar Allan Poe
"I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:10-11
I am alone in my flesh. Surrounded by warmth; layers of skin and life construct me. I have soft parts and hard bones, and senses... But even these fail me.
We need communion with God because we are never truly united. We were made for a greater union than any we may experience in this docile life. We swim and crawl through our experiences, screaming just to shred our throats and know our voices still function even though no one seems to truly hear them. We screw up to make sure we still have guilt, because if we did not, we would have lost a piece of our humanity in this world that means nothing. We must fail to test our own existence, to make sure we still have a piece of this evasive eternity we both loathe and desire. We cry out for answers and anger ourselves demanding comprehension, but we will not find it here. We demand meaning with entitlement that was never ours to possess.
Everything is meaningless. Yet, we are given so much to busy our hands while we pull ourselves through the grime that wets the wings of our spirits and keeps us from ascending to transcendence. This is our lot; we should grasp it with iron grip and work exhaustively with it until we have no more breath with which to perform. We ought to enjoy what we are given - yet this statement is so loosely tossed. "Enjoy" seems to imply some kind of happiness, but I do not think that is always so. To enjoy, to me, is to feel in every shard of your being; to appreciate existence by allowing it to saturate the very essence of your being. Not every emotion will be uplifting or laughable, but that does not mean they are not satisfying. Rejoice, and know that you are alive. Because you feel, you are in existence. You have been given a great gift that may lead you to the one great King who brought your humanity to life. If you are angry, sad, hurt, ecstatic, feel it to the very marrow of your bones, and know that you have been blessed with a true soul with which you are able to bring praise to your Creator, here and, someday, in eternity.
"It is better to go to a house of mourning that to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. Frustration is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart." Ecclesiastes 7:2-3
"From the same source I have not taken/ my sorrow; I could not awaken/ my heart to joy at the same tone;/ and all I lov'd, I lov'd alone." - Edgar Allan Poe
"I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:10-11
I am alone in my flesh. Surrounded by warmth; layers of skin and life construct me. I have soft parts and hard bones, and senses... But even these fail me.
We need communion with God because we are never truly united. We were made for a greater union than any we may experience in this docile life. We swim and crawl through our experiences, screaming just to shred our throats and know our voices still function even though no one seems to truly hear them. We screw up to make sure we still have guilt, because if we did not, we would have lost a piece of our humanity in this world that means nothing. We must fail to test our own existence, to make sure we still have a piece of this evasive eternity we both loathe and desire. We cry out for answers and anger ourselves demanding comprehension, but we will not find it here. We demand meaning with entitlement that was never ours to possess.
Everything is meaningless. Yet, we are given so much to busy our hands while we pull ourselves through the grime that wets the wings of our spirits and keeps us from ascending to transcendence. This is our lot; we should grasp it with iron grip and work exhaustively with it until we have no more breath with which to perform. We ought to enjoy what we are given - yet this statement is so loosely tossed. "Enjoy" seems to imply some kind of happiness, but I do not think that is always so. To enjoy, to me, is to feel in every shard of your being; to appreciate existence by allowing it to saturate the very essence of your being. Not every emotion will be uplifting or laughable, but that does not mean they are not satisfying. Rejoice, and know that you are alive. Because you feel, you are in existence. You have been given a great gift that may lead you to the one great King who brought your humanity to life. If you are angry, sad, hurt, ecstatic, feel it to the very marrow of your bones, and know that you have been blessed with a true soul with which you are able to bring praise to your Creator, here and, someday, in eternity.
"It is better to go to a house of mourning that to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. Frustration is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart." Ecclesiastes 7:2-3
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