Word

It is amazing what peace that accompanies the reading of the Word. I can easily attribute a lot of my bad days to failure to focus on God. There are certainly circumstances in my life--past and present--that do not help the bad days, but the feelings of worthlessness and frustration would be manageable if I stopped trying to deal with them ON MY OWN.

(Side note/analogy: My life isn't a bloody musical as much as I wish to participate in some sweetly melancholic solo. No, no. Life is a chorus and we all contribute to the entire production.)

Anyway, I brought my Bible into the caf during lunch since I hadn't read it in a few days, and was feeling the need for refreshment. Since the Word feeds our souls, I've been starving myself for awhile now. I finished up Galatians and moved into Ephesians.

(Side note 2: the epistles are...well, I feel like they were written to me. Not all parts, but I feel that they connect very much to what I deal with these days.)

I'll leave you with a couple of verses that stood out strongly to me:

Ephesians 2:10~ "For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." (NLT) This sort of redefined the Jeremiah 29:11 verse that EVERYONE references. I like this one better. :)

Ephesians 3:14- ~ "When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.

"Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen." (NLT)

I like this last passage because one of the many things I've been struggling with lately is the concept of love. A lot of my friends have been telling me that they love me and have been praying for me. I know that they do--and let me please make it clear that it has been appreciated, my friends!--and yet at the same time, the words seemed to fall flat, like they were just words. Likewise, when people would say that God loves me and wants what's best for me, I felt like they were just cliche. I felt like Eliza Doolittle: "Words, words, words, I'm so sick of words! I get words all day through--first from him, now from you! Is that all you blighters can do?!" (Geez...what's with the random musical references? First Les Miserables, now My Fair Lady?)

Anyhow, so I've been struggling with loving God, loving people, and registering God's love--and peoples' love--in my mind/heart/spleen (insert appropriate body organ according to culture). The thing is, I don't think I'll ever understand love fully. When people love me unconditionally--and there are a few out there--I don't understand it. I feel like there's got to be a catch somewhere, like if I don't maintain a certain veneer of perfection, everything will come crumbling down and the gilt will chip off the frame of happiness.

As little as I understand human love, I understand God's love even less. I think about my life and all that's happened in the short--and yet incredibly long--twenty-one years in which I have inhabited this world, and I cringe. How can God--who is PERFECT--even consider acknowledging my presence? But He does. And not only does He draw attention to me, He loves me. Not only does He love me, but He longs to be sought after by me. By me?! There's got to be something wrong in that equation. I don't know when was the last time that someone sought a broken, twisted leech of a person to chill with. And yet God wants me? See...I'm never going to understand Him. But I love Him.

Another part of this passage that I want to draw attention to is that God has unlimited resources and that He will empower me--and everyone else who believes. I love the following image of growing down into God's love in order to keep strong. Wow. That's just downright beautiful. No, more than that, it's astounding, breathtaking, pulse-hammering, incredible. The thing is, if I grow in the Lord, if I cling to Him for my strength, then I can face this. I can face the past, and even though it's not pleasant, I can walk the road of healing. It's actually possible!

Thank you, God, for continuing to speak to me when I've given up.

pics from the house

So here are some pics taken from my deck this weekend--Sunday morning, to be exact. I was up at 6:30am to get ready for church. Conveniently, the sun was rising, so I got some sweet pics of the sunrise-ish. ;) (PS. I'm also obsessed with sunrise...)

ferry pics

While in line at the ferry, I decided to make use of my new-ish camera and took all sorts of pictures. Here's a bunch of my favorites. (I'm obsessed with sunset...did it show?)

TGIF

I am so thankful it's the weekend. Classes just got too long and too involved this week. Another thing I'm thankful for: my last class is choir. Singing can make everything all right, especially when one is singing beautiful words of adoration and thanksgiving unto God. Huzzah for concert choir!

I have a buttload of stuff to get done this weekend, namely, finish going through all my junk that I didn't get through last weekend and sort and pack and store. Yay. My joy is complete.

However, even though it's relatively early right now, I am most tempted to go to sleep early and then get up in the morning and get at it. I might be able to accomplish more if I am well rested before I begin.

In the meantime, I'd just like to say that I managed to take some beautiful photos while at the ferry dock this evening. I'll try to post my faves when I get back to my computer and the necessary cables for my camera.

Anyhow, I'm seriously hitting a wall, so I think bed might be calling me.

counseling

I met with a potential counselor today, and it was a very good meeting. I trust the counselor, I like the feel of the establishment, and it is easily approachable--within walking distance from my school. Okay, it's a *little* far.

I also managed to finally get ahold of another potential today, and there's been some emailing back and forth. (Phew!) I want to share part of her email because it was so encouraging for me to read it.

"...One thing I can promise you and that is you can become victorious over it, although you will never forget that it happened to you. [...] You being a student at NWU [my school] tells me that you most likely are a Christian which means that you are walking with THE Healer who longs to heal your emotions. Sometimes He heals us miraculously yet more often He wants you to face the pain and look at it and feel it and walk towards the light on the end of the tunnel with the Lord always being there right at your side."

This woman rocks!

tired thoughts

I should really be sleeping right now. I have this bizarre habit of not sleeping until I know that as soon as I hit the pillow, I'll be dead to the world. I don't like lying in bed and having thoughts run through my mind, replaying the day or the past or whatever. I want to use my bed for sleep and sleep only.

Anyhow, this weekend has so far been much better than last weekend. No inordinate amounts of tears. No crazy panics. No fears welling up and attempting to overthrow my sanity. But the weekend is still young, and who knows what could happen from here! (That's a joke.)

This has been a hard week. There's been a lot of pushing on all sides, and I've been hard-pressed to listen to any one of those sources. The pushing has been predominantly good, and has helped me take the right steps towards wellness.

For instance, I'm going back into counseling. Good thing, right? Healthy, safe, neutral place to work through my issues. Always been a fan. Well, okay, not always. But once I actually started going through counseling and realized how helpful it could be, I became a fan. I digress.

I'm going in to a place Tuesday morning for an "orientation" meeting to see if this one place is right for me and my situation. I hope so. My other leads have pretty much fallen by the wayside. I'm hoping that's for a reason and that God is leading me to this one place. I'd really appreciate it if I could not be disappointed in this. (God, I don't think I could handle it. Please don't take that as a challenge to make me grow. I'm having a hard time as is.)

Anyhow, I think I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm going back into counseling and that I'll be dealing with my past and all the issues involved. I'm terrified to do this. It's not inducing anxiety attacks--which is bizarre--but for some reason, under this occasionally semi-calm demeanor, I am dreading this. I know that the end results will be good, but I don't want to go through this entire process. I don't want to. I'm close to refusing to do so, but it's not about me.

I hasn't been about me since God confirmed my call. I realized then that I couldn't live for myself anymore, and I realize now that if I don't deal with this, I'll be pretty ineffective out in the "real world."

But now I'm about to pass out on my keyboard, so I should go to bed.

odd

Usually, online quizzes are way off and just make me laugh. This one is spot on.

WEIRD

You Should Weigh 155

If you weigh less than this, you either have a fast metabolism or are about to gain weight. If you weigh more than this, you may be losing a few pounds soon!

How Much Do You Weigh?

soothing rain

Today has been a strange day. Good day, but bizarre.

It began with a lot of confusion in 1 Corinthians that I believe has been at least somewhat resolved. Probably not fully, but enough to tide me over until I can get ahold of one or more of the theologians on campus.

Classes were pretty nondescript, except that all the literature that I've been reading for class involves sex and the general abuse of women. Not exactly the kind of stuff that I want to be thinking about at this particular point in my life. (It's already enough in my head...)

Choir did not follow this trend. The songs we are currently learning are beautiful--rich in musicality and lyrics alike. One of the songs in particular speaks particularly to my heart. It's called "Precious Lord," arranged by Arnold Sevier.

Precious Lord, take my hand; lead me on, let me stand.
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.
Thro' the storm, thro' the night, lead me on to the light.
Take my hand, Lord, and lead me home.

When my way grows drear, precious Lord, linger near.
When my life is almost gone, at the river, Lord, I stand!
Guide my feet and hold my hand;
Take my hand, Lord, and lead me home.

A lot of choir directors give background stories to enrich the choir's performance--a mental visual that elicits an emotional response to push the song. Our choir director--who more than earned my respect and trust today--went this way and asked the rhetorical question, "What does a person have to go through to inspire such words?" He went on to say that it is when everything seems to turn to despair, when nothing is left but God, that this sort of conviction comes through.

Then he asked the choir if anyone had experienced something like that, prefacing it by saying we didn't have to share if we didn't want to. I very hesitantly raised my hand, and I felt like I was the only one who did. Bill looked at me and the details get a little vague, but I asked if I was supposed to share now that he addressed me...and I did. I told my choir that I'd been sexually abused as a child and that I hadn't realized it until years later.

Bill nodded and went on to say that something like that is indeed something that no one should ever have to endure, and that there were easily hundreds of people on campus who had gone through the same thing. Choir finished shortly thereafter and I didn't talk to anyone upon leaving. No one looked at me, and I left choir feeling like I had successfully managed to define myself as this "other."

Went to work, and later Bill came down to the bookstore. He talked with my manager for awhile, then asked to speak with me in private. I went out in the hall with him and he started by saying that I had been very courageous to share what I did in choir. I told him that I hadn't really thought about it, it just sort of came out. He said that he'd seen me think it over before speaking. And then, he added that other girls in the choir nodded along and that there are others who've gone through what I've gone through. I know that, and yet hearing it again somehow helps to know that I'm not alone.

He went on to affirm me, saying that I wasn't responsible that I hadn't done anything to deserve that. He also asked if I had dealt with it. I told him that I was going back into counseling and was currently looking for a good counselor. He gave me a referral and I know he's got my back. Even though it's a strange thing to have had happen today, in some way I'm glad. I feel somehow liberated in telling that.

Tonight I hung out with several good friends and we laughed and talked and watched a non-thinking movie. That's always a good way to destress. As I walked down to the dorms afterward, I felt very much at peace. Campus was empty, there was a full moon and a slight breeze. Everything was so calm. Then it started to rain softly, and there is something so refreshing, so symbolic and cleansing about rain--even when it's not a mad downpour. I feel like it's just one more love note God's passing me to get through this hard time. (And He's been giving me a lot.)

classic

I'm currently reading Homer's "Odyssey" for my World Masterpieces class. I've read sections of it before, so it's nothing new to read. However, as this is not an abridged version, there's a lot more to appreciate. I know it's not in the original Greek, but since I don't speak any form of Greek, I'm okay with that.

As there are a bajillion references to the gods and goddesses of ancient Greece, I decided to google images of these deities so as to refresh my memory of their typical depictions. After all, most artwork uses the same types of elements to portray the same characters--Diana is usually depicted with a bow and a quiver of arrows, Zeus has lightning bolts, etc. Anyhow, I went through some of the typical deities, and then decided to google Psyche.

Psyche, of course, did not start out as a goddess and only after many trials and a significant issue with distrusting her man, eventually is given immortality. But that's a long story and I don't want to go into it. Google Psyche and Cupid and read it for yourself.

Anyhow, ever since about fourth grade when I read my mom's college mythology book--repeatedly--I have really liked the story of Psyche and Cupid. (Or Cupid and Psyche, if you prefer. It doesn't matter--it's the same people.) I don't know why I've been attracted to this story. Maybe it's that the seemingly perfect beauty has the flaw of not trusting her hubby long enough for them to remain together. Or maybe it's that once she messes up, she rises to meet the challenges of her new mother-in-law--and let's face it, those are pretty hard even if you don't take into consideration having to separate five types of seeds and grain and going to hell and back without dying.

All this to say: I found a lovely image of Cupid and Psyche, albeit a little scandalous in its portrayal. Hey...nothing's showing! And it's art. So lighten up.

fears being allayed

I've been having a lot--and I mean A LOT--of second thoughts concerning going back in to counseling. What ifs keep swirling around my head. What abouts are intermingled with the what ifs and if sos are not far behind. I'm not feeling anxiety yet, but I am definitely terrified.

Just now, this random song popped in to my head from choir back home. Kind of ironic, but more than likely a God-thing, I can't remember all the lyrics, but here is the chorus:

Child of God, do not be afraid.
Child of God, trust and obey.
He will walk with you all the way.
Child of God, do not be afraid

It's funny how God keeps giving me the little nudges that push me in the right direction, even though I'm dragging my feet the whole way.

how great our Mother's love for us

The best thing about being an English major is having great writers presenting the truths of the Bible in unique and novel ways that resonate even stronger in my heart. Last year, John Donne's poetry--especially his holy sonnets--were just about life-changing for me. This semester, I've just read from Julian of Norwich and Margery Kempe--both Christian writers from the Middle Ages.

More amazing than the writing itself is that what I'm reading is EXACTLY what I need to read in the situation that I'm in. It's incredible and confounding and amazing how God meets us where we're at, individually. Mind boggling and beautiful.

Here's a selection from Julian of Norwich:

And in our spiritual bringing to birth he uses more tenderness, without any comparison in protecting us. By so much as our soul is more precious in his sight, he kindles our understanding, he prepares our ways, he eases our conscience, he comforts our soul, he illumines our heart and gives us partial knowledge and love of his blessed divinity, with gracious memory of his sweet humanity and his blessed Passion, with courteous wonder over his great surpassing goodness, and makes us to love everything which he loves for love of him, and to be well satisfied with him and with all his works. And when we fall, quickly he raises us up with his loving embrace and his gracious touch. And when we are strengthened by his sweet working, then we willingly choose him by his grace, that we shall be his servants and his lovers, constantly and forever.

And yet after this he allows some of us to fall more heavily and more grievously than ever we did before, as it seems to us. And then we who are not all wise think that everything which we have undertaken was all nothing. But it is not so, for we need to fall, and we need to see it; for if we did not fall, we should not know how feeble and how wretched we are in ourselves, nor, too, should we know so completely the wonderful love of our Creator.

For we shall truly see in heaven without end that we have sinned grievously in this life; and notwithstanding this, we shall truly see that we were never hurt in his love, nor were we ever of less value in his sight. And by the experience of this falling we shall have a great and marvellous knowledge of love in God without end; for enduring and marvellous is that love which cannot and will not be broken because of offences.

Wow. WOW. From a woman who was born in 1342, that's not half bad. Now, to explain the title of this blog, Julian of Norwich makes comparisons to God as our Mother in order to further explain how He loves us. Her writing has fascinating insights. If you can get ahold of her writing, do so and be blown away. :)

hurting

I've been listening to a lot of DMB this weekend. Granted, that was due to the two concerts I attended, but I've been listening to them a lot beyond the concerts, especially today. Listening to "Grey Street" earlier brought tears that had been simmering under the surface all day. I think one of the reasons why I'm drawn to secular music right now--instead of Christian music--is because what I'm going through is of the world, and has seemingly no connection to the church. God's involved--thankfully--but it feels like the institution of Christianity can't relate. Now I'm just rambling, but before I go, I leave the lyrics of "Grey Street."

"Grey Street" by Dave Matthews Band

Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out on to Grey Street

She thinkgs, "Hey,
How did I come to this?
I dream myself a thousand times around the world,
But I can't get out of this place"

There's an emptiness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together--to grey
And it breaks her heart

How she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears it doesn't listen
There's still a hope in her it might

She says, "I pray
But they fall on deaf ears,
Am I supposed to take it on myself?
To get out of this place"

There's a loneliness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
And though it's red blood bleeding from her now
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together--to grey
And it breaks her heart

There's a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It'd take the work out of the courage

But she says, "Please
There's a crazy man that's creeping outside my door,
I live on the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world"

There's an emptiness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
And though it's red blood bleeding from her now
It's more like cold blue ice in here heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together--to grey
And it breaks her heart
It breaks her heart
To grey

I feel a lot like this song. I feel like this girl, but with some differences. I know God hears my prayers, and He's got my back through all of this, but the difficulty is still there. I was talking with Tyler earlier, asking him if he thinks I'll ever get "better." He said yes, but only if I want to. He's right. I need to make the conscious decision to choose to seek the help I need to get through this. That takes a lot from me, because I never ask anyone for help. But pride be damned if that comes between who I am now and who God intends for me to be. (Did I just swear...?)

Dave Matthews take two

It's now quite early Monday morning, and I've been back at school about 30 minutes. Why I am not currently in bed is a mystery that I am currently too tired to solve. :) The last night of a three night concert gig is definitely worth attending. A lot of favorites were played--even the die-hard fan I went with was pleased ;) . There were still a lot of drunk white people trying to dance. A bunch were smoking tobacco, some were smoking weed--hey, we were in great company. :) We had better seats, but we were in the thick of madness in that area. Oh well, DMB is teh bomb regardless. Dave even gave a plug against drunk driving, so he earned even more respect.


Entirely separate: I have a bizarre relationship with makeup. I usually don't wear it because I don't want to look painted or fake. I want to look like me. Sometimes, I wear makeup to look pretty--for church and other dressy occasions--but most of the time I put on makeup, its purpose is to hide. It's like a disguise for me, like I get this compulsion to cover up who I really am.

I had this thought today about the past. What if the person who abused me was not abused by someone else first? As disgusting and horrible as that is, I'd prefer that she were abused. It somehow makes it all bearable. The corresponding thought to this was how could I have ever participated willingly in the abuse? I never rejected it. What does that make me? (This is why I wore makeup today...)

My other thought was about how a person's circumstances define them. For example, I don't want the world to know about my past because then I will be defined as a victim of child abuse. It's shameful enough without being overlooked as an individual.

All this to say: I think I'm going to be wearing a lot of makeup for awhile.

addendum to Dave Matthews

One of the songs that Dave Matthews sang last night during the encore was called "Sister." I'd never heard it before, but it made me sad because I no longer have a relationship with my sister. And maybe that's a good thing for now, but it hurts that it's gone now.

"Sister" by Dave Matthews Band

Passing time with you in mind
It's another quiet night
Feel the ground against my back
Count the stars against the black

Think about another day
Wishing I was far away
Wherever I dreamed I was
You were there with me

(Chorus)
Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cry
I feel your tears
Running down my face
Sister, sister, keep me

I hope you always know it's true
I would never make it through
You could make the sun go dark
Just by walking away

Playing like we used to play
Like it would never go away
I feel you beating in my chest
I'd be dead without

(Chorus)
Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cry
I feel your tears
Running down my face
Sister, sister, keep me

I hope you always know it's true
I would never make it through
You could make the heavens fall
Just by walking away

(Chorus)
Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cry
I feel your tears
Running down my face
Sister, sister, keep me

DMB

I really wanted to sleep in this morning--seriously sleep in--till like one o'clock. Unfortunately, I woke up to cramps around 9:26am. That's not too bad for a Saturday, but since I wasn't in bed until 2:45 or so, it was a little less sleep than I would have liked. :) The reason I was up so late is because Tyler and I went to see Dave Matthews at the Gorge last night. Such a great show. That band reeks with musical talent, and they are just as incredible in person--if not more so--than on their studio albums. Wow. Why aren't more musicians that good?

It was the first time I've been to a secular concert, and it was a new experience to be there solely for the music and nothing more. I'm used to concerts turning into worship sessions, and for that to be omitted from the scene was something of an adjustment, but it was pretty neat regardless. :) I think we were some of the few who were sober. Yeah, drunk white people so do not know how to dance, but it makes for a lot of amusement for the rest of us. :)

Anyhow, we're going to a second concert Sunday night, so that'll be good. The only "bad" thing about it was that there was some horrendous traffic going over--so the stress and heat gave me a headache that kept festering through the concert and seriously attacked me at the end. It was so bad that when we stopped at a gas station on the way back, I thought I was going to puke in the restroom. Fortunately, gas stations sell painkillers and that, combined with some shut-eye on the drive home, and Tyler praying for me, helped prevent that from occurring. (Thank you, Jesus!)

Conveniently, I am taking a writing class this semester and our first assignment is a descriptive paper. I decided to write up a desciption of the DMB concert, and here it is.

In the deeply amethyst feather-dusk, I can actually see the stars overhead. Familiar constellations are only visible when one is removed from the metropolitan, yet it seems that humanity has been poured into this remote bowl in the desert. Although lighting is inconsistent, I know I am surrounded by tightly positioned pockets of people; they are black silhouettes against the near blinding stage lights. Personal clouds of cigarette smoke ascend to mingle with alcohol vapors to hang diaphanously on the air—an olfactory veil that attempts to camouflage the natural smell of dry dirt. Under my bare feet, I feel fresh grass—cold to the touch—whose blades are like strands of a rubber shag carpet. If there was silence around me instead of music, I know I could hear it squeak beneath my toes.