blitz!

Sorry for the blog blitz...these thoughts have been in my head for too long already and I just knew that if I didn't get them out and down on the keys, I'd get backed up again...I hate that mentally constipated feeling that comes when you don't empty the thoughts that run loops in your brain...trivial or monumental- it's just the same.
It's clearing my brain, getting rid of the endless and at times compulsive thoughts and questions that bounce around in my head...I'm looking forward to the day when my brain is completely empty. :]

about me...

I've decided to test my emotional intelligence...trying to figure out what it is that people see me as...this is what I've come up with so far...
I am: stubbornly yielding, emotionally even-keeled and passionate, generous to a fault, a false extrovert, a grammarian, confidently insecure, courageous, adventurous, a risk-taker, witty but often the only one laughing, selfish but empathetic and compassionate, a wide-awake dreamer, an old soul with a youthful heart, a hopeful romantic tinged with cynicism, misunderstood, easily overlooked and hard to remember but unforgettable, spontaneous but also a planner, a lyricist who doesn't know what to say, far above rubies (sorry if your name is Ruby, not talking about you), inviting, creative, ADD plagued with CFS, kindhearted, lovely, fabulous, real and unknown.

Basically, I'm a living contradiction...does everyone have these two opposing sides to them?

admission

I'm a list maker. I love lists. Even if I don't accomplish everything on them, for some unknown reason, I love to make lists. I make lists about making lists. I rewrite lists, organize them, put them in the sequence of which they should be completed and carry them around. I have security with my lists. It's like "the list" has this power of making things happen...I mean, if it's not on the list, it won't happen! (well, in my case even if it does make the list, there is a high chance it might get transferred to another list because it didn't get accomplished...)

50 cent

it's a metaphor for change.
I think that is indisputably my favorite line from the artist known as 50 cent. Brilliant man, he is.
Anyhow...
Change.
Most days I love it. In fact, I think I actually crave it. Or maybe it's just the idea of it I crave. I never really can form a firm opinion on this matter. But no matter my opinion, it happens. Sometimes it feels drastic and overnight, other times it is so gradual that I can't even see a difference a month down the road.
I look around me, at others' that are changing, I can see it in them, but hardly notice it in me. I ask the same questions, want the same things and am still looking for the same answers as I was years ago. That being said, however, I can decidedly say that I'm not the same person I was back then.
Sometimes I feel like the earth, struggling to change, freezing overnight, melting during the day, just wanting the 'transition' period to be finished and finally thrust into the new place, the new season, the next step, tomorrow.
Basically, where I am is wanting a new set of problems...ones that even if they're the same maybe just look different...I don't know...maybe I'll just squint my eyes for now...

blinded...

Why does it take someone leaving for us to realize they're what we want? Why can't we see it when it's right in front of us, plain as day and take it then? Why do we wait til someone's funeral to celebrate them publicly and recount the memories? Why is it that once someone is gone, we can only remember the good times- and even the bad times are seen as positives?
Is it a case of we don't know what we want? The grass is always greener? Are we just unaware of those around us?

What is it in us that creates this blindspot to the beauty and love that is around us? Why do we take it for granted, only to realize once it's gone, how good it actually was? Is it just easier to get stuck on the impossibilities that so often cloud our vision, that they ultimately block out the infinite possibilities that each situation creates?

Where is your blindspot? And what is keeping you from seeing past it?

forgetfulness

Why is it so easy to overlook the fact that we are so dearly loved by the God of the universe, the Champion of our hearts, the Creator Himself has taken a personal interest in our lives, in my heart, in my dreams...so why is it so stinking easy to forget that and live my life in such a way that questions His devotion?
Why is my stubbornness so stubborn? Why is my heart so heavy? What am I doing in my life?

Is it fear? Lack of faith? Mistrust? Hurt?

Why do I live my life like I’m continuously questioning HIS devotion to me? HE is the jilted lover. HE is the One I’ve repeatedly cheated on. HE is the One that comes after me.

Why can’t I just accept that? I’m thrilled at the thought of it, but when reality sets in, I just forget.

I don’t want to forget.

argghhhh...and not in the piraty sense

I throw pottery.
I mean, I make it on a wheel...the process, it's called 'throwing'...just in case you started wondering if all of a sudden I became a weirdo and just threw clay objects to make them break...
I grew up cooking and baking with my mom, mum, aunts....my sister and I would mix water, flour and sugar and then put food coloring in it, just to be cool, and my mom (bless her soul) would let us do this day in and day out, ultimately leading to the complete and utter demise of her entire tupperware collection- who knew you had to clean it out before it hardened?!
I tell that lovely anecdote to correlate my pottery to baking and eventually to my life- stick with me!...when I first started out with clay, I treated it a lot like baking- except it was in two steps and way hotter than our oven at home could ever get. You make the piece you want, you put it in the kiln, take it out, let it cool and then you glaze it.
First, I never really could grasp the reality of the piece shrinking the first time in the kiln- I either made the pieces extremely large and they didn't shrink to the size I wanted- like my mom's 'cereal bowl' she uses to serve salad...for 20...or I made it the size I wanted and it would turn out to be perfect for a doll house- I just never could understand it. Second, when it comes to glazing...I thought if I left enough room at the bottom, the heat would 'melt' the glaze and it would run down to cover up the thumb prints or other smudges, but no, to my disappointment, it didn't run together, in fact it didn't even move. Pity.
I pictured my pieces to turn out so much more beautiful than what they ended up looking like. And it wasn't the kiln's fault or even the glaze or the clay...nope, the responsibility of the multiple travesties I produced rested squarely on my hands, as it were. Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely inept when it comes to clay and a wheel and glaze, but I had my fair share of pieces I hid so the rest of the class didn't laugh at me.
And that is like my life. Nice segue, eh? :]
It's like my life because when I look at it, I picture all these fabulous things: long life, gray hair and lots of wrinkles, true love, a whole load of kids, a strong and kickin marriage, a sex life- a good sex life, a house with a porch and animals, lots of noise, exhaustion at the end of a day, endless frustrations and debt. And I want it. I want it all- the bad, the good, the ugly, the pretty, the not-so-pretty, the painful and the painless...I want all that life has to hold. But then when I take an honest look at the current choices I make and how I conduct myself- the end result really isn't what I picture. It's like how I used to treat those early pieces- putting them in the kiln despite the marring, hoping that somehow the heat would work its magic, much like the oven does with chocolate chips in cookies- and the end product would be this beautiful, marketable and highly enviable piece that I created.
My current choices don't reflect the end result I want...I don't know why I continue to exist in this place of dreaming about the future but somehow refusing to take the steps to get there.
Eventually, I didn't get it perfect, but I got a lot better at determining the end size, shape, color and overall presence of the piece. And to be quite honest, I love some of my pottery- it's a life-size example of how God sees me. I know the sweat, tears and dreams I put into the pieces- they didn't just happen on accident, I actually worked to get them to look like that- and that realization makes me feel loved by Him.
I still have to wonder though- will I get it right? Not perfect...but will I get it right, where I start heading toward what I dream about? Will I ever take the steps? Or is it just about where I'm headed and not really so much where I am right now? Is today the day I wake up and decide only good things? Argh, the questions- they're endless....
Oh, and the baking...it got much better...I figured out using more than flour, water and sugar makes things A LOT tastier...just in case you were wondering. :]

perfection

I don’t believe in perfection…even the smooth stone at the end of the river, the one that is perfect, shiny and makes all the other stones jealous was only smoothed because the rushing water pushed it down the river, both forcing it into and dislodging it from crevices and dragged it along the bottom. It’s smoothness is not because it was perfect at the beginning, the middle or even close to the end…it’s smooth because it was beat up along the way…and it’s smoothness at the end is its perfection completed. I have a feeling my life can be characterized like that. Not always in step with standards, sinful, full of grace, off-beat, love struck, stuck in ruts, forced out of my comfort zone…I can only hope that my God, the One Who created the river and the rock will smooth me to perfection. And I love that though the river and the path of the rock seem random at best, I know in my core, that my God is intentional. And even though I strike out on my own, I know that He has me. He loves me.

the line

Where do we draw it? How are we defined by it? How do we deal with it? How do we not judge people determined by which side of the line they are currently on? And finally, how long do they have to be on this side of the line before we stop judging them for previous behaviors that occurred on that side of the line?

God says that His mercies are new each day. That His grace and love are infinitely more than we can ask, know or even comprehend.

So is it possible to make a judgment about someone? Is it fair?

I know I can judge if someone is safe for me in different capacities and I feel responsible so as to not give myself away to people that aren’t worth it. But even saying that, I feel like I’m making a judgment that although has been made against me, I shouldn’t be making since I don’t know them and don’t know what God is doing in them. I can understand character problems creating issues, and I can understand seeing a pattern in someone that is destructive.

But in the end, does it really even matter? We are all fallen, so shouldn't we all be untrustworthy? Are any of us worth investing in (by human standards)? So do we write off everyone and hide in our little life or do we accept everyone- dangerous or docile- and just live the way we know how?

I mean honestly, what can man do to me...?

M.A.S.H.

It seems like life was so much easier when we were little. We never or at least very rarely had to question our choices and the subsequent consequences we had to deal with were minimal at best. Nowadays, it seems like I second-guess everything. Did I wear the right shirt? Is it too tight? Not tight enough? Should I wear short pants? Makeup? What about my hair? Should I dye it? Shave it? Straighten it? Grow it? While all of these questions may not relate to you, for me, trying to navigate the land of constant decision-making makes for a rough day. Should I call? Should I apply for this job? Is this love? Ah, and that’s when it hits me.

You see, when I was little, ‘love’ or what I thought I knew about it was simple enough to figure out in a little game called MASH.

*embarrassing confession*

My friend and I were playing it the other day and I smiled at how arbitrary and final those little hash marks seemed at the end of the game. Who needs a five-year plan when all you need is notebook paper, your top three choices for each category and hash marks? It’s like I could see my life plan unfolding and there was a happy little way to get somewhere splayed out in front of me; complete with the winners circled and the losers inevitably scratched out, so as not to make a mistake when counting. Now granted, it wasn’t my dream…to live in a shack with four great danes and a butler, but it’s what the hash marks predicted. And somehow in that instant, oddly enough, it was a great relief to finally feel like my life was headed some place and that in the end, that final destination was actually somewhere and it was somehow related to the choices I’ve made along the way. It was comforting to see that even though the dream wasn’t necessarily attained, that there was some kind of finality to it. It was comforting, even just for the second I let myself get caught up with the game, to know that where I'd end up wouldn't be where I currently am. Odd, I know.

I guess I just didn’t take the time to realize that life had become complicated, that people play for keeps- whether it’s another’s heart or simply their own, and the choices I make today may not have an affect on tomorrow. But they could quite possibly have an affect on next week. Or someone else's day, week, life. It's no longer a world of make believe. And I don't exist in a vacuum.

I don’t mean to say that I wish I could just live a life that is dictated- I certainly enjoy my freedom- but it just seems that a little direction, a little guidance towards the right way would really silence my questions. Or at least part of them. But then again, maybe it’s a faith exercise. You see? It's this constant barrage of options, questions and thoughts that exist within my skull and chest. They war each other daily and it's tiring.

Does it ever get easier? Do we ever reach a point where we just know that where we’re headed is the right place? Or is it my faith in God that the place I’ll end up is the right place and the path along the way is really a matter of faith, finding Him and Him showing me who I am along the way?

Is God a God of the end justifies the means?

freedom

Today is difficult for our generation…we are told we can be anything, do anything, go anywhere, outlive our parents, be different from everyone because we are unique; and it’s sad because most people will do all of those things. It seems like the one thing we aren’t encouraged to be is ourselves. It’s like we live in this schizophrenic/ADD world that has no clue where we are going because we are so caught up in becoming something that stands out. And oddly, what that ends up looking like ultimately is a society that looks alike, talks alike and yes, even dates and marries the same people. It’s sad.

In our endless search for what we think we want to be, we have lost sight of who we were created to be and Who we were created by and for. We are inundated with the message that we must be different, look different and act different…and well, we’ve missed that. We shop at the same stores- all looking for that original style…and most people will just leave their own self at home, because somehow we’ve learned that it isn’t good enough. So in order to measure up to arbitrary and asinine standards, that truly contradict themselves, we abandon the only Person who can even begin to tell us exactly who we are and we look to others who are just as flawed (and in competition with us) to shed some light on our worth. So we fight to become our own, we have labels, we are labeled…and comparing the two categories of labels ours and His…it’s astounding to see the difference.

Slut, happy, bitchy, immature, old, cranky, funny, boring, witty, pretty, ugly, stupid, dumb, ridiculous, insane, fat, skinny, anorexic, successful, failure, liar, goody-two-shoes, rebel, hellion, brown nose, suck up, sarcastic, mean, rude, unkind…we use these labels and more to try and sum up who we are, who we think others are, and what we think about our interactions with them. And truth be told, they change sometimes minute by minute. Some days we like each other and others, and in the next minute we could be at each other’s throats. So much judging goes on day to day. We judge so we don’t get judged. We judge harshly in order to keep the ones we perceive as a threat to stay away. We judge ourselves so when another judges us, there's no surprise.

But there is an alternative…here’s another list that I have come to cherish:

I am loved first, far above rubies, more than a conqueror, set apart, His, sought after, in His righteousness, rejoiced over with singing…

It goes on and on…these are just some of my favorites. And once I remember to bathe in the Truth, to remember Whose I am, the striving ceases. There is no competition, no fear of losing my status with Him, no wondering what He says about me when I walk out of the room or have a bad day, no fear of what may befall me because quite frankly, I am summed up by Him. He knows me. He says what I am. He has the right to condemn me, to throw stones, to hate me, to ignore me, to chastise me, to make fun of my imperfections, to leave me hanging, to make me feel inadequate…but He doesn’t. He loves me. It’s incredible, really. But He does. And it’s the safest I’ve ever been.

And so when I’m running around this world, trying to be different, but trying to be normal and I feel crazy, I try to remember that He is my audience. That other people’s opinions only matter if I put stock in them and that it is exhausting and ridiculous to continue to try and do things to please the people I really have no interest in, outside of gaining their approval!

for you, for me...for us all

In the land of familiar, there is only repetitive defeat; it’s the same lines, the same reality, leading to the same results every time. It’s not until we actually leave the familiar, the very things we thought made us who we are, that we find who we can become. It takes courage to leave what we know, to face what we think (and usually are convinced that) we are unable to conquer. But if we remain in what we know, for fear of failing at something we aren’t yet aware of, we willingly die a slow and painful death. We give up our dreams because who bothers to dream of things already known; we give up our hope for a life that is different than what we currently have. And once we lose our dreams and our hope, our heart is quickly and forever lost in the tears that blur our sight each day we spend looking out the window to the horizon, wondering what might have been had we only left what we knew.

Take courage. Leave the familiar. Adventure into the unknown.

It's worth it.

heaven

i love watching the gaither homecomings on tv. i picture heaven much like these- except no one is in the audience- we're all on stage, gathered around a piano that maybe God Himself plays, all singing in amazing harmony, songs that just boil up from our souls that praise Him and glorify Him...i love that.
there is something about music...and it's not solely Christian music, but music in general, that makes my heart swell and causes it to be swept up into the reality that there is so much more to life. it's why i'm moved to tears sometimes, am speechless at others, and still at others, become fiercely aware of emotions and words.
it's only happened once or twice where i swear it feels like the barrier between heaven and earth was removed and the angels of heaven joined in the singing. the volume was massive, the heart and soul were affected...it was beautiful. and this, this is what i imagine heaven to be like. the constant realization and entrance into a chorus of praise and glory to God...