This week was one of THOSE weeks.
Granted, there was a fair amount of good in it as well.
I just felt so discontent and anxious.
I went for lunch with a teacher from high school the other day and we were talking about needs. Every single person has people they need to see or things they need to do in order to keep functioning. Since I wasn't getting my needs met, my body was mentally and emotionally starting to shut down. Did I mention she has a degree in Psychology? Anyway, so now my job is to sort out everything she said to me and start realizing and putting into practise how I am going to survive the next three months. It's a good exercise to mentally sort through what are your individual needs. An example of one of mine is physical touch. I need hugs. Seriously. I've started to be more aware of the fact that my body notices when it's not being touched. We are sexual beings (read sexgod by Rob Bell for more about sexuality) and touching is a huge part of childhood and I think it needs to carry on through adolescence. All that to say, I need hugs. This same teacher last year (grade 12) watched me make a list of my needs so some of these things have been bouncing around in my head for over a year now. My encouragement: make a list of your needs. Be specific. What do you need from who (spouse, kids, friends, parents, school, living conditions, etc)?
I have decided to put a song of the day up everytime I post. It will most likely be a song i've heard during the day that has struck me. Or an alltime favourite. Or simply good music. Hopefully you will give it a listen.
Song of the day:
The Shade of Poision Trees by Dashboard Confessional
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
And suddenly there are no more questions...
...just white noise.
who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope
through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading,
kept in heaven for you
who by the power of God are safeguarded through faith,
to a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the final time.
In this you rejoice, although now for a little while
you may have to suffer through various trials,
so that the genuineness of your faith,
more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire,
may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
Although you have not seen him you love him;
even though you do not see him now yet you believe in him,
you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy,
as you attain the goal of faith, the salvation of your souls."
1 Pt 1:3-9
May you find friendship that is unguarded, broken, and good. so good.
Four friends met tonight. There was food, laughter, openness, confessions, addictions, love, God, music, theatre, and honesty. The best night I have had in a long time. It brought me back to school and a community of people that genuinely care deeply about each other. These people are people I have no problem being honest and frank with. There is unconditioned love. We confessed, we cried, we laughed so hard it hurt. This is love my friends. Deep, unconditioned, broken love.
We talked about our show next year. I can’t explain the feeling I get when I think of it. When we start to read Genesis and Greek tragedies I get, well, I get it.
I tend to tell the story of my past quite a bit. This is healing for me. I saw a play this past year where the main character opened with a monologue that talked about each person’s story. And how each time we tell our story, we give a little bit of it away. I don’t believe that fully, but I do believe I am continuely being healed by sharing it. And i’m learning how to embrace my past and use it for God’s glory. Tonight again I was affirmed by what I had shared and I have added more people to my family.
Today I felt the answer to a worn out prayer. I felt peace. Such an amazing peace. For the first time in a long time I am able to stand on my own two feet and be content in my singleness and know that that is what God has planned for me right now. God is good. No, no, no not safe. Good.
I was blessed by this tonight:
who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope
through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading,
kept in heaven for you
who by the power of God are safeguarded through faith,
to a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the final time.
In this you rejoice, although now for a little while
you may have to suffer through various trials,
so that the genuineness of your faith,
more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire,
may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
Although you have not seen him you love him;
even though you do not see him now yet you believe in him,
you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy,
as you attain the goal of faith, the salvation of your souls."
1 Pt 1:3-9
May you find friendship that is unguarded, broken, and good. so good.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Still pluggin away...
I have a couple more pages in Antigone and then I will start writing about it. Seriously, read it if you have a chance (first read a synopsis so you know what the heck is going on), it is so good. I'm really enjoying it.
Another poem maybe...
I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
or has an easier size.
I wonder if they bore it long,
or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.
I wonder if when years have piled-
Some thousands- on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;
Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.
The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies, -
Death is but one and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.
There's grief of want, and grief of cold, -
A sort they call "despair";
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me
A piercing comfort if affords
In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the cross,
Of those that stand alone,
Still fascinations to presume
That some are like my own.
- Emily Dickinson
The first time I read this poem I had dissolved into tears by the second stanza. This really does describe the past year for me. Heartache and grief have shook the very core of who God has made me. Such deep, sorrowful grief. And then I have questions. How do I worship God when I all I feel like is crying? Why do I always end up crying in worship? It dawned upon me one day that maybe my tears were worship to God. Maybe He likes my tears.
A couple years ago I was listening to a lecture down in Fresno at ACTS Seminary and the lady was talking about her adopted daughter who was probably about 3 or 4 at the time. She said that her daughter would have severe temper tantrums where she would kick and scream and punch and need to let out her sadness and anger because she knew that this family was not her natural family. She knew that her adopted family loved her very much but she knew this family looked different than her. Her adopted mother called these tantrums "holding time". She would ask her daughter if she needed holding time and her daughter would climb into her lap and sob and kick and punch and do whatever she needed. Afterward her mother would just hold her and they would sit.
This lady suggested to us that maybe sometimes we need holding time with Christ. Where we can scream, punch, shout, kick our sorrows and anger at him. Where we can sob into His arms without judgement and with the knowledge of an everlasting love. I have often pictured this as I look to accept my past as it is and work at changing my future.
Another poem maybe...
I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
or has an easier size.
I wonder if they bore it long,
or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.
I wonder if when years have piled-
Some thousands- on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;
Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.
The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies, -
Death is but one and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.
There's grief of want, and grief of cold, -
A sort they call "despair";
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me
A piercing comfort if affords
In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the cross,
Of those that stand alone,
Still fascinations to presume
That some are like my own.
- Emily Dickinson
The first time I read this poem I had dissolved into tears by the second stanza. This really does describe the past year for me. Heartache and grief have shook the very core of who God has made me. Such deep, sorrowful grief. And then I have questions. How do I worship God when I all I feel like is crying? Why do I always end up crying in worship? It dawned upon me one day that maybe my tears were worship to God. Maybe He likes my tears.
A couple years ago I was listening to a lecture down in Fresno at ACTS Seminary and the lady was talking about her adopted daughter who was probably about 3 or 4 at the time. She said that her daughter would have severe temper tantrums where she would kick and scream and punch and need to let out her sadness and anger because she knew that this family was not her natural family. She knew that her adopted family loved her very much but she knew this family looked different than her. Her adopted mother called these tantrums "holding time". She would ask her daughter if she needed holding time and her daughter would climb into her lap and sob and kick and punch and do whatever she needed. Afterward her mother would just hold her and they would sit.
This lady suggested to us that maybe sometimes we need holding time with Christ. Where we can scream, punch, shout, kick our sorrows and anger at him. Where we can sob into His arms without judgement and with the knowledge of an everlasting love. I have often pictured this as I look to accept my past as it is and work at changing my future.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I have a king who does not speak
So, wondering, thro' the hours meek
I trudge the day away, -
Half glad when it is night and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream to peep
In parlors shut by day.
And if I do, when morning comes,
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillows roll,
And shouts fill all my childish sky,
And bells keep saying "victory"
From steeples in my soul!
-Emily Dickinson
ps. read it aloud
So, wondering, thro' the hours meek
I trudge the day away, -
Half glad when it is night and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream to peep
In parlors shut by day.
And if I do, when morning comes,
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillows roll,
And shouts fill all my childish sky,
And bells keep saying "victory"
From steeples in my soul!
-Emily Dickinson
ps. read it aloud
Antigone
I finally allowed myself to delve into some Greek tragedies this week. And let me tell you it's no piece of cake. I started with Sophocles' Antigone. And promptly got lost. Thank goodness for Sparknotes.
I'll have questions and comments tomorrow.
Go read. It'll be good for you.
I'll have questions and comments tomorrow.
Go read. It'll be good for you.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Work, work, and more work
I started work. That's all I seem to do, which is good I guess. Keeps me busy. No more sitting at coffee shops for four hours a day for me. I'm still pasty white unlike every other one of my friends because every sunny day we have had, I have been inside a hot and sweaty kitchen for mostly all of it.
Saturday night I went and saw You Can't Take it With You at Pacific Theatre put on by PT and Trinity Western. A marvelous performance. Sometimes I like going to plays and not knowing the story at all and being completely surprised. This was one of those times. Some of the issues that the play brought up are ones I am dealing with right now. This family is living with values completely against normal New York society. They couldn't give a rat's ass about money or prestige and status. But they have family and community and love. You know, those important things that we sometimes forget about.
Quite frankly I would love to make enough money this summer to have enough gas to do what I want and enough to go back to school next year. I was considering the other day trying to go the whole summer without buying clothes. I don't need new clothes, I have more than most people in this world and most importantly, it is no longer important to me to have nice clothes or nice things.
Seeking beauty, loving people, thirsting for the Father who loves me so much. THOSE things are important to me.
Anyway, go see You Can't Take it With You, you will be pleasantly surprised.
Saturday night I went and saw You Can't Take it With You at Pacific Theatre put on by PT and Trinity Western. A marvelous performance. Sometimes I like going to plays and not knowing the story at all and being completely surprised. This was one of those times. Some of the issues that the play brought up are ones I am dealing with right now. This family is living with values completely against normal New York society. They couldn't give a rat's ass about money or prestige and status. But they have family and community and love. You know, those important things that we sometimes forget about.
Quite frankly I would love to make enough money this summer to have enough gas to do what I want and enough to go back to school next year. I was considering the other day trying to go the whole summer without buying clothes. I don't need new clothes, I have more than most people in this world and most importantly, it is no longer important to me to have nice clothes or nice things.
Seeking beauty, loving people, thirsting for the Father who loves me so much. THOSE things are important to me.
Anyway, go see You Can't Take it With You, you will be pleasantly surprised.
Friday, May 16, 2008
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