through tears of joy.

How do I begin? There is an aching in my heart that I cannot describe. There is a hole inside that wants to be filled. There is an unsettledness that wants to be comforted. There is a fear that wants to be calmed. And I feel powerless. How can the life of someone affect another to such a huge extent? How can you even continue living life when you feel so wretched and despairing; so lost and hopeless; so confused and troubled? How can you continue when all you want is to know, "Why?", and realizing that you'll never know why.

I read this week that there was a shooting at a school in Ohio; that several people had been injured and that one boy had died. A sixteen year old. I didn't know him.

I prayed. I felt sad. I went on living life.

A boy died today. I knew him.

I wept. I prayed. I angered. I felt ashamed.

Who am I to question His plans?
Who am I to want and need to know why?
Who am I to clench my teeth and bar my fists at Him?
Who am I?

I know what I am not.... I am not perfect. I am not all knowing. I am not supreme. I am not just. I am not righteous.

I know what I am. And that is a sinner. In a world pitch black with soot and grime and ugliness that was never intended to char this earth. I get angry because I'm in pain....because I see others in pain, and I feel their pain. Because I see anguish and turmoil. Because I see brokenness and I can't fix it. I get angry at God because I hurt. And yet amongst the thrashing out at what I see as unjust....I see what He's quietly whispering to my trembling soul.

I never intended this. 


What?

I created this world to be perfect. 

What? How?

I created a place where I could live with you in a perfect eternity. 

What happened?

You chose to be apart from that life. You chose to be all-knowing because you didn't trust my plan for you. I never wanted this for you. I never wanted pain for you. I wanted a life that was beautiful for you.


God and I talked today and in my shattered frame, I felt whole in the end. I say that I know what Christ has done for me. I say that I understand...when I don't. I can't comprehend to the smallest degree what grace was bestowed upon me when He sent His Son. Can you even begin to comprehend that He created a beautiful world that we destroyed and corrupted, that He sent a piece of Himself, His only Son, to come and understand what it was like to be human, to feel all that humans feel; then to pay the ultimate price and die on a cross to be an intercessor for our lives. He gives...and He gives...and He gives...and He gives... Oh, GOD. I am overwhelmed and awestruck by You and all that You are.

Sin brought death and suffering into this world; and Christ will take it out. He will take us out and make us complete, whole, unsuffering souls.

Today He took my wandering soul and bound it fast to Himself. This boy, precious, sweet, beautiful, cherished Ian who was full of hugs, of joy, of peace, of beauty was taken out of a black world where God could say, "Yes, my child...NOW. YOU. ARE. MINE. And you are perfect." I weep; but they are tears of joy, because this is God's supreme plan full of glory, majesty and omniscience. Through tears of joy, I am beginning to understand his wonder.

choice.

It's strange how you can feel okay at one moment and the next, terrible. Strange how your heart and mind can seem as one and then also as different as can be. My mind makes up its mind as to what it should set out to do, but my heart comes and disagrees - my emotions disrupt my focus and determination. At other times, my heart decides how it should truly feel and be, and then my mind confronts it - my logic gets the better of me and tugs at my sincerity and honesty in what I do. Isn't that twisted?


It still, and always will, amaze me that God gave us a choice in our lives. We are not programmed creations of His, going about with no control over our lives. We live and breathe by His mercy, and we are able to make everyday decisions. In one sense, I want to come out and say, "Thank you! You gave me a choice! You gave me freewill! You did it because you didn't want to force my love for you - because then it wouldn't be true love. What an amazing God of passion and romance you are!" Yet another part of me wants to cry out and yell, "Why!? Freewill!? We could have just followed you had you given the command! Then there wouldn't be all the horrid things that there are in the world today! Then my mind wouldn't be so torn as to what is wrong and right, what I should do, and what my self wants to do."


But that wouldn't be love. Love wouldn't be this passionate, careful, erotic, patient, fleeting, intimate, heated, enraged emotion that overwhelms us. It would be no feeling at all - only response.


It order to accept this beautiful idea of love, we must agree to take the ugly side of love, as well as the good. Is it not like that with the rest of life? Perhaps my head and my heart are saying completely different things. But even though there is a choice, and I must choose at some moment in life, I am grateful for choice. It can be a burden, but it is one of the greatest gifts and freedoms given to man. Rejoice in the choices that must be made. And accept that there are good and bad ones. Isn't that to be expected? If you listen to God, He'll make sure that your head and your heart are focused on Him, and a perfect answer will be sprung from that.

the Colour Purple.

Shug: More than anything God love admiration.

Celie: You saying God is vain?

Shug: No, not vain. Just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off when you walk by the colour purple in a field and don't notice it.

Celie: You saying it just wanna be loved like it say in the Bible?

Shug: Yeah, Celie. Everything wanna be loved. Us sing and dance, and holla just wanting to be loved. Look at them trees. Notice how the trees do everything people do to get attention... except walk? [they laugh]

Shug: Oh Miss Celie, I feels like singing!

...........

"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Matthew 6:34

....

I think so often we go through life not appreciating it. Instead we regret the past and worry about the future. What kind of life is that? So much time ends up being spent reliving mistakes and stressing over things that aren't in your control. How much do you get accomplished when your attention is so tied up with things that aren't important?

Today you should be happiest. In this moment you should be happiest. Look around you. So many worries, so many cares....put them aside. Look outside.

Where I live, the weather is chilling to the bone, the grass is brown and dry, leaves have fallen to the ground and blown away...the earth looks ripped of its beauty. Even the sky is cloudy and overbearing. I don't enjoy that.

I look again.

Branches. Stripped of their beauty. Gray bark. No color. Pitiful and naked. Bare. Reaching towards the sky with their limbs swaying in the wind, pointing to the One that made them. Their arms against the silhouette of a deep purple sky, clouded with rolls of lavender cotton balls. They are strained and broken and bent...and yet they are somehow breathtaking, reminding me that there is beauty in each day. I must grab it. I must cherish it.

Enjoy each moment and carry that beauty with you where you go, because tomorrow will have it's own worries (as does today) and you'll need beauty to keep you going. To remind you that God is GOOD. That His creation is GOOD. And that He has already faced the battles you are fighting from yesterday, today and tomorrow and He has already conquered them. Hear that? He CONQUERED them. VANQUISHED. THWARTED. PREVAILED by His own blood that dripped from a cross as He hung and told you with His own words, "It. Is. Finished."

This is what He tells me... "Enjoy that purple sky. Love that colour purple. For it was created for you to love and enjoy. Just as I created you, for Me to love and enjoy. "

colorblind.

Perchance there are greater things in this world besides the seemingly important visible things? Why is it that people must see before they believe? Why can we not believe and then see because of that belief?

It's funny, I cry out to the skies with anguish and frustration; with fists clenched, teeth barred, and knees weak, hoping that by some good luck, a strike of brilliance will overwhelm me and melt me from my stiff, mundane worries - hoping that there will be a solution if I seek hard enough. Answers don't pop out of the skies from the Lords throne room as we (or I) would like them to. They come through quiet suffering. They come through crazed and frantic minds. They come through soft whispers and giggles. They come through heads bent over words of wisdom. They come through frustration. They come through hardships. They come through moments of light and dark; relief and infamy.

It sounds cliche to tell someone going through a tragedy that, "Everything happens for a reason", or "This will help you grow". We don't want to hear that to comfort our pain. We want to numb that pain. We want to freeze it. Burn it. Kill it. Anything not to feel what seems like its slowly killing us inside. But if we do not feel, how are we human? How can we even be alive? We must feel, even if it seems to execute our very being. And when we feel, we must feel it all. Don't try to lie and tell yourself that everything is okay when it isn't. Why? Ohh. I know. It's like if someone were to ask you casually, "How are you doing?" and you didn't reply with the normal, "I'm good, how are you?"but with, "Well, I'm just terrible. Cried myself to sleep last night. What about yourself?" Sure. People would be aghast at that transparency.

And that's okay.

You don't have to tell them the complete truth, no; you can be polite with them, being nonchalant with no animosity. Just don't be polite to yourself. It's not like you're going to offend yourself. Why? Because it's okay to hurt. It's okay to feel down. It's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to be frightened. It's okay to not have it all together. It's okay to be human. The truth we face is that, it's the world. We live in sin and we always will. Why am I saying this? Because I am hurting, deeply. I've been too busy to seem to notice it though. And when I do, it's shamefully pushed aside, as if I'm scared to face the fact that no, life isn't where I want it right now. I had such a huge struggle last year that when this year turned out to be better in the sense of meeting people who liked me, and making friends whom I could trust and relax with, I forgot my fears. They were numbed by me. No, not faced - numbed. Because I thought, they would pass if I just had a good ol' time and left them alone. I was wrong. They were skeletons in the closet, created, made, and formed by my own crafty, deprecating past self. Oh why am I writing this? Because, even though I know that I don't pretend to be Miss Perfect, there is an innate part of me that wants to contradict how I think people might see me. As much as I want so deeply to be smart, beautiful, fun, loving, motivated and everything that is good...I am not. I am covered in this skin that I want to be pulled out of. Rip it off me. I am not who you think I am. My classes have not turned out the way I had hoped, or planned, and that is tearing me apart. I am struggling with myself; this skin that I am in. As much as I want people to see me in a marvelous and good light, I just as much don't want them to see any good in me. I am deplorable and dark. I am wretched, worn, wasted, broken, defiled, and ruined. I have to be honest with myself right now. Whatever part of me thought that I was different to every other teen, is not there any more. Because the truth is, I am not motivated, easily distracted, not wanting to do school, lazy, addicted to the computer, vain, thoughtless, ungrateful and colorblind to the beauty of this world. I wish I appreciated things more. I wish I saw the beauty in everything.

I am ready.

For what?

To accept, with an odd feeling of relief, that I am at odds with myself. I am not who I want to be, and I have to be okay with that. As much as I want to be a strait-A student, there are limits. Perhaps, yes, I could be if I truly wanted to. But the reality? I want to talk with people, I want to take breaks, I want to be laid back, I want to learn on my own accord, I want to enjoy other parts of life - music, nature, non-school books...the things that keep me from being focused. I want to be with people. I want to help people. I am far from who I could be and, perhaps this sounds terrible... but I'm okay with that. I'm okay with not being okay. I'm okay with admitting my faults, my darkness, my damage, my regrets, my vulnerability. I don't want to hide behind a facade of who I am not. I want to be transparent; not colorblind to life.

So where is the happy note in this rant?

The happy note is that I wrote this several weeks ago during exam week, when emotions were high, feelings strung out, and desires burning deep within me. Yet I still agree with this fulminate.

Summary? Life is not perfect here, and it is okay to admit that, because if we don't, then we don't acknowledge feeling. If we don't feel, we don't live. If we don't live...how are we human? There are greater things in this world besides the seemingly important visible things. And we must see, without actually seeing but believing, that there is a happy ending to our stories if we do feel. And we must feel to the hilt. God created us to feel this world, to take it in, the good and the bad. Being human, who He created us to be, brings him great pleasure. True feeling brings about true believing. True believing brings about true seeing. And then? We are not colorblind, but awestruck at a new world before our eyes bursting and budding with life and vibrancy. This is the life He wanted us to see. Don't cover it up with being frightened to admit things are not okay or you will be colorblind.

nostalgia.

When I look through my old journals, I wonder, "Where has time gone?" It's bittersweat to realize that I'm not a child anymore. Where did those years go? It seems like so long ago. I feel like I've nearly forgotten that little girl. As I look at my old entries, I smile at my handwriting - sprawled across the page in cramped, untidy letters. I laugh at my stories that once seemed so dramatic and time-consuming. I chortle at my maturity that wasn't so present back then (and is still quite void today). And I weep when I realize that that is time I will never have back. That is a little girl who has grown up and gone away for the rest of my life. Perhaps I can pull her out every once in awhile when I'm with children and I can get away with childish things? It almost seems a pity that you only have one life, and such a short life at that. By the time we become mature enough to realize what life is all about and what we should do with it, we're already too close to the finish line.

Perhaps that is not correct, though. Many people know what they want in life, and what they want to do. But there are also many who don't. I just think it's sad that 2008 is long gone, and oppertunities that I had then, have passed me by. Oh, what fantasies used to run through my little head - they're gone now, too. That's what makes me sad. Things that once were, are now no more. They're lost.

"Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: You find the present tense and the past perfect."

Somehow it is so true that both the past and future seem like better places to be than the present. Why? Because we're not dealing with them at the moment. We're not living in the past, nor occupying the future; we live in the present, and that can often be hard to accept when the present isn't what we want it to be. Hence we remember only the good things in the past, and wish to high Heavens to be there...or we dream of hyperbolized conceptions of the future and desire destiny now. Maybe I should be switching out those "we's" with "I's". Well anywho.

It's encouraging to think, however, that this isn't the end. This isn't my real life. My real life hasn't even begun yet, and there is no reason or rhyme to regret, or feel remorse about what has been, or be anxious about what will be. Even though the past sometimes seems like a better place, when I think truly about how I felt then, I remember not being able to wait for where I am right now. And then I see how far I've come, and who I am, and I wouldn't change or alter who God has made me at this exact point in life. And I will wait patiently until he molds me into who I will be in the future. Besides, in the end, these trivial anxieties won't really matter.

...........

Pippin: "I didn't think it would end this way."

Gandalf: "End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.

Pippin: "What? Gandalf? See what?

Gandalf: "White shores. And beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.

Pippin: "Well, that isn't so bad."

Gandalf: "No. No, it isn't."

.......

The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King

A note from the past...

Found this entry while looking through my second journal the other day....and wanted to share it for some reason.

.......

"Ever since we've moved into this house I've been lonely. Lonely because my friends weren't close by; lonely because family was no longer near by to see and be with; lonely because everything I saw was new and different. The smallest things that I knew every day, just never thought about, changed. Smells, sounds, views, people, activities, weather, schedules, routines...and everything else. I used to hate being in a house that didn't buzz with life; doors slamming, cars honking, food in the kitchen smelling up the entire house, people talking, music playing, chairs scooting, doorbells ringing, voices whistling, mowers clanking, dogs barking..... I miss it. As weird as it may sound, I miss the familiarity it gave me. I knew the smell of my house, the usual sounds that floated through it, the voices the usually seeped through the walls, the constant flow of energy that was always giving "life" to everything.

It was happy; joyous; fun; exciting; mysterious; expecting; comfortable; peaceful. I was used to it. I remember the first night I slept here in the new house: everything was quiet. No creeking doors announcing the entrance of my brothers return from a late night at work; no cars, no trucks, no ambulences sounding outside giving usual city sounds; no cats fighting outside; no people wandering in the streets at late hours; nothing. Absalute silence. (with the exception of a few crickets being in the country). It surprised me how much that would affect me. The thing I miss most, are my brothers. They weren't always at the house, of course, but they gave flavor to the days mixture. Even if they stopped by just to pick someone up, or grab lunch before work, they were there. I miss friends as well, of course. Today I was looking through the scrapbooks mom made for me and found some stuff from our play, "The Importance of Being Earnest", and the program that all the cast members received. We had gone to IHOP after the performance to eat and talk. We also signed eachothers programs. As I leafed through what everyone had said, I started to cry a bit. That's what I missed. The familiarity of everyone; the comfort to laugh easily; the freedom to do something and not be embarressed. I missed my friends. The quote below is something I picked up a little while ago - It caught my eye, because that's just the way I feel. "

"Don't cry because it's over....smile because it happened."

................

My God's great love for me pulled me out of the mire, and I am blessed to say that I do not feel these emotions as I once did. They are still inside a little...but the flame doesn't burn as bright because I know that every turn I make in life, even if it hurts, is where God is leading me, and if I hurt myself, He will bind me up. He shows His strength through my weaknesses....and that means He shows me His strengths more often than not. And this entry above....this "note from the past", is how He reminds me how far I've come and that the trials I go through every day are 'momentary afflictions'.

Insecurities.

It's heartbreaking to think that as many as 10 millions women and girls suffer from either bulimia and/or anorexia. It is heartbreaking to think that over 1 million die of suicides every year and that 10 to 20 million suicides are attempted. It is heartbreaking to think that the people in this world somehow find a way to put others down, to make them feel out of place, to bury them in the ground and not let them grow or even see the sunshine because of imposed clouds of depression caused by others intentional or unintentional actions. It is heartbreaking to know that people suffer so much.

So much suffering is caused by insecurities that are imposed upon us, or self-imposed when compared to the media and beautiful, successful, astute, and illustrious people who are publicized before us around the globe. Every day we are confronted with their success and allure. How can we not compare? Were we not to compare, or have a reason to do so, wouldn't we be more content with our jobs? With our lives? With our looks? With our success?

I wish I could say that the world didn't have a hold on me. That I could handle my own without worrying about what people thought of me, what my appearence was, what my skills were...but that would be a lie. And I don't wish to be anything that I am not...nor to I wish to not be something that I am. Care to hear my litany of insecurities?

I hated my hair...my curls. I hated the fact that I couldn't brush my hair without looking like I had just electrecuted myself. I was vexed that all my friends had beautiful silky hair that you could run your fingers through with ease, whereas a hand couldn't get through mine without it being a bloody mess from the great tangle of a rats nest. I learned to straiten my hair at an early age, and learned how to concoct recipes of different types of shampoos and conditioners to find the perfect combination that make my hair somewhat tolerable.

I had the biggest gap between my two front teeth, an underbite and a crooked tooth on the side that needed to be twisted around to make it normal. This led to braces and that insufferable stage of youth where everything seems maladroit.

I came to a point where I stopped growing...in fact I never actually felt as though I started. My friends were all taller than me...which I suppose was okay as a girl, but at the same time...not really. I felt awkwardly short (being 5'2). Some kids say they suffered with gangling limbs and awkward spindly ligements that they had no idea what to do with. Me? No. I just had short, sqaut muscles that made me believe I had been exposed to gamma rays as a baby and must have turned into some perverted version of mini-Hulk. I had muscular calves and thighs and had a few nicknames as a result...

I also was under the impression that I had an enormous honker because a friend had, quite jokingly, told me that my nose was huge. Of course, she was saying that because my nose was the farthest thing from large, but in my head, I thought she was right and the more I agreed with her, the larger my nose became.

At one point, I became aware that my hands are unusually small. No, no. Insanely small. I'm not sure how I didn't grow into them...especially since I didn't grow that much in the first place it seems like.

But my goodness....don't you get to a point where you just want to scream!? Don't you ever get tired of thinking about all these things that seem wrong about you? Don't you get tired of always thinking about you? I know I do. I can't stand it. It's draining to hate so much about yourself.

There was a moment in my life, that somehow came together over time, where all the things I ever disliked about myself, were the things that made me, me. They were the things that I had come to appreciate, laugh about, and enjoy. I love being happy and free, and when I leave my hair alone, with no constraining or concoctions...they are fine. And I feel free and happy because I don't have to worry about it. Last year I had jaw surgery and my braces removed and now those painful memories of awkward braces, aren't so painful anymore. They're in the past, and they only lasted for that time. I will never have to worry about crooked teeth again. A funny thing is that my midline is actually off, and I have recently noticed in pictures that my mouth is very crooked (one side of my lip is higher than the other and my lips aren't even). But I don't care. That's who I am. There is still the issue of height...I'm 5'3 and not growing a centimeter taller. I'm content in that. My large muscles? Yes. Still there. Thanks to the genes from my papie. And they are all the better to support me as a rock climber, hiker, runner, kyaker, backpacker...all the things I love to do and I have the strength to do it and enjoy. My nose? Still there. But somehow not as big as I remember it... My hands? No matter how small they are, they will never be too small to help someone, to lend a hand, to place a hand to comfort somone, to do manual labor, to hold a hand... I am so thankful for every part of me. Sure, there are moments when I think, " Oh, it would be nice to look like that." Or, "I wish I could wear something like that...but it wouldn't look good on my body." It's okay. Seriously. It's more than okay. And I love those things about me. I would never want to be anyone else but me.

Perhaps it sounds like a Sunday school answer, but God gave me these things because He specifically wanted me to be a combination of all these parts. I am unique. So I've learned to let myself be. And that feels like acceptance. It feels like beauty.

There will always be insecurites about something....I have insecurites about life. But just like I have learned to appreciate my God-given looks, I know that I will learn to appreciate whatever God places in my hands (my oh-so-small hands, of course).

Don't ever feel as though you are not who you are supposed to be, that you are not how you are supposed to look. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are not beautiful in your own right. You hold the key to your beauty, and it's what you choose to do with it that makes you truly captivating.

"You don't love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because you love her."

....

"Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Elinor Roosevelt

....

No one should feel as though they aren't enough, or they aren't alluring enough. Beauty comes from the eye of the beholder, and everyone views beauty differently.

....

"For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it. For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it. For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it."

Ivan Panin

....

"Certain things catch you eye, but pursue only those that capture your heart."

American Indian Proverb

....

p.s. Take a hint from the Indian.