I should be more prolific.
Somedays I am overwhelmed with creativity.
I sit and sew and sew until my fingers are dry from the textiles and burned from the iron. If I didn't have a job that required me to go to school with the little ones at 7:45 in the morning, I would sew until the hours of the morning when everyone else in the house is sleeping soundly and unaware of the humming of the small machine that has stitched together the pieces of quilts and purses and clothing and pillowcases. And it feels like I just keep the thread running, much like the sentence before that describes it, while my eyes watch the magic of the machine shape usable things.
Or, maybe I'll sit and knit and knit until my thumb is bruised for pushing the needles back and my wrist hurts from the twisting. But I can see the single strand become something strong and useful--something important for the winter chill that is sure to come. Just yesterday, I made two hats that will be gifts on Christmas morning, and I began work on a scarf.
I don't always sit, sometimes I stand and bake until my feet hurt and the house smells like cupcakes or brownies or cookies. These things take little time, and I can watch them rise in the oven. Others may smile as they bite into one even as they reach for another.
These things are my therapy. If I really want to feel better about whatever might be dragging me down, I need to set creation-idle hands to work on a new project. These things I can watch form and see to completion.
I'm still not writing the way I should be. I'm not always making myself present. Because, honestly, most days I get home from the school with the little ones and I just want to sleep or do nothing. I find myself drained of creativity...and I'm not moving forward like I want to be. I can't see the pieces of my own quilt coming together, or all the stitches in my scarf, or the ingredients in my cake to see what flavor I will be. My life feels like it's standing still.
As my life is still, so is my writing. When I create the words come easily, something about the workings of my hands activating the workings of my mind. And then I run into the issue of time.
I should be more prolific.
I say this despite the two unfinished quilts strewn about the living room and the unfinished scarf in my bedroom...and the several unfinished stories on my hard drive.
I should be more prolific and finish these things to make room for new things.
Showing posts with label God-lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God-lessons. Show all posts
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
What kind of love is this?
I read a post on tumblr a few days ago that really struck me...a Jane Austen quote that I'm not sure I'd ever read (and if I had, I surely had forgotten it), "I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong." [Northanger Abbey] Something in me responded to the idea that some people do everything halfheartedly, even love, and then I was overwhelmed by the realization that I am much like this quote--my attractions are excessively, annoyingly, strong.
While I was blow drying my hair this morning I was thinking about a conversation I want to have with someone....and how I want to tell them that I don't do things by halves. I don't do something with the heart unless I've thought it over and really felt around it--this doesn't mean that I don't get hurt, it means that I get way to involved sometimes. The point of this internal conversation was that I really do like this individual. In my mind I thought, "I am not in the business of doing things by halves...and that can be hard. But I am comforted by the knowledge that I worship a God that doesn't do things by halves either."
I worship a God that doesn't do things by halves. Who would have thought that such a moment of clarity would come when I was pummeling my ears with the sound of rushing air? There I was, still damp, blow dryer in hand, and completely overjoyed at the revelation that God doesn't do anything half way.
His love is all encompassing, and all forgiving. He is so fully committed that He sent His Son to die for my pitiful, wretched soul--so broken by sin that it seems impossible for a perfect being to love.
It occurs to me now that His full commitment makes my "no halves" thing seem really pathetic. I may think things through and really allow myself to get hurt because of it, but I don't think I would actually die to prove my devotion to another person. And then one begs the question, am I willing to die for Christ, for His good news, like He died for my soul? I hope so. I hope that if that day comes, He will give me the strength to be so completely committed.
I may not be in the business of doing things by halves...but thank God, He is definitely not in the business of doing anything halfway or incompletely. The story is still being told, and because He fulfills all His promises I can rest easy tonight knowing that He will come again and reclaim what is His. The story isn't over yet.
While I was blow drying my hair this morning I was thinking about a conversation I want to have with someone....and how I want to tell them that I don't do things by halves. I don't do something with the heart unless I've thought it over and really felt around it--this doesn't mean that I don't get hurt, it means that I get way to involved sometimes. The point of this internal conversation was that I really do like this individual. In my mind I thought, "I am not in the business of doing things by halves...and that can be hard. But I am comforted by the knowledge that I worship a God that doesn't do things by halves either."
I worship a God that doesn't do things by halves. Who would have thought that such a moment of clarity would come when I was pummeling my ears with the sound of rushing air? There I was, still damp, blow dryer in hand, and completely overjoyed at the revelation that God doesn't do anything half way.
His love is all encompassing, and all forgiving. He is so fully committed that He sent His Son to die for my pitiful, wretched soul--so broken by sin that it seems impossible for a perfect being to love.
It occurs to me now that His full commitment makes my "no halves" thing seem really pathetic. I may think things through and really allow myself to get hurt because of it, but I don't think I would actually die to prove my devotion to another person. And then one begs the question, am I willing to die for Christ, for His good news, like He died for my soul? I hope so. I hope that if that day comes, He will give me the strength to be so completely committed.
I may not be in the business of doing things by halves...but thank God, He is definitely not in the business of doing anything halfway or incompletely. The story is still being told, and because He fulfills all His promises I can rest easy tonight knowing that He will come again and reclaim what is His. The story isn't over yet.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
You're the peace to the restless
It's been a big couple weeks in the heart of this Nebraska-girl.
Last Tuesday there was a phone call with a certain young man that lasted over 50 minutes. This soothed the fraying edges of my hopelessly romantic heart. His general concern for my well-being is comforting. Just yesterday I received a letter from said young man. These pieces of life that we keep sharing...I can't help but wonder at the greater picture. And still I pray that God's Hand sew the pieces into place without my own hand trying to force the pattern.
I also baked and delivered a cake that a new relative had ordered for her birthday. Baking is good for the hands that are itching to do. My hands have been so idle with unemployment that they were thankful for the fun task. Baking is also good for the inner homemaker in me that doesn't have a lot of opportunity to shine just yet.
This Tuesday I had an interview with one of the local elementary schools at 8 am. It had been so long since I turned in an application to the district that I had mostly forgotten about it, and had certainly thought it was a dead end. The interview went very well and I was expecting an answer sometime in the next couple days. Two hours later, I got a phone call from the administration building offering me the paraeducator position. All I could think to say was, "Wow, that was fast," to which the lady on the other end confirmed. With a thankful heart, I accepted the position and am excited to begin working with kids that are struggling with reading and math and other areas. This rejection-sick heart is glad to be accepting an offering, a calling.
When I look back at my past experience I see that God was whispering all along, Just wait, I've been preparing you for something specific. You have to trust Me to show you what you're supposed to be doing. Trust Me. And that trust was incredibly hard, but worth the wait. I've been a Writing Center tutor, I've been an administrative assistant, I've been a teacher's aid, I've been a person who struggled with reading at a young age. All of these things, and so many more, have been shaping me for this moment. God is good.
Wednesday I was able to spend some time with a few of the ladies in the family. We went to get pedicures, something I've never done before. It soothed the worry-weary heart by healing the dry-heat abused feet. There's something to be said for healthy feet--the washing and care-giving is Biblical, after all.
I fell asleep to thunder and lightning Wednesday night, and I slept easy knowing the thirsty ground was getting some much needed moisture. And this morning I was woken by thunder and lightning at 6 am, an hour before my alarm would go off, and I didn't mind at all.
My heart is abundantly thankful for the answers to so many prayers, for my heart was as thirsty as the land, and God is pouring out the rain and grace that we so desperately need. Let it rain.
"For greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this City." [Chris Tomlin, God of This City]
Last Tuesday there was a phone call with a certain young man that lasted over 50 minutes. This soothed the fraying edges of my hopelessly romantic heart. His general concern for my well-being is comforting. Just yesterday I received a letter from said young man. These pieces of life that we keep sharing...I can't help but wonder at the greater picture. And still I pray that God's Hand sew the pieces into place without my own hand trying to force the pattern.
I also baked and delivered a cake that a new relative had ordered for her birthday. Baking is good for the hands that are itching to do. My hands have been so idle with unemployment that they were thankful for the fun task. Baking is also good for the inner homemaker in me that doesn't have a lot of opportunity to shine just yet.
This Tuesday I had an interview with one of the local elementary schools at 8 am. It had been so long since I turned in an application to the district that I had mostly forgotten about it, and had certainly thought it was a dead end. The interview went very well and I was expecting an answer sometime in the next couple days. Two hours later, I got a phone call from the administration building offering me the paraeducator position. All I could think to say was, "Wow, that was fast," to which the lady on the other end confirmed. With a thankful heart, I accepted the position and am excited to begin working with kids that are struggling with reading and math and other areas. This rejection-sick heart is glad to be accepting an offering, a calling.
When I look back at my past experience I see that God was whispering all along, Just wait, I've been preparing you for something specific. You have to trust Me to show you what you're supposed to be doing. Trust Me. And that trust was incredibly hard, but worth the wait. I've been a Writing Center tutor, I've been an administrative assistant, I've been a teacher's aid, I've been a person who struggled with reading at a young age. All of these things, and so many more, have been shaping me for this moment. God is good.
Wednesday I was able to spend some time with a few of the ladies in the family. We went to get pedicures, something I've never done before. It soothed the worry-weary heart by healing the dry-heat abused feet. There's something to be said for healthy feet--the washing and care-giving is Biblical, after all.
I fell asleep to thunder and lightning Wednesday night, and I slept easy knowing the thirsty ground was getting some much needed moisture. And this morning I was woken by thunder and lightning at 6 am, an hour before my alarm would go off, and I didn't mind at all.
My heart is abundantly thankful for the answers to so many prayers, for my heart was as thirsty as the land, and God is pouring out the rain and grace that we so desperately need. Let it rain.
"For greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this City." [Chris Tomlin, God of This City]
Saturday, June 30, 2012
I do dread other people's remarks...
The following post may seem disjointed and possibly slightly bipolar...for that I am sorry.
I didn't get the job at the car dealership. Even though I wasn't fired and was just not hired, it feels like I was fired because I wasn't hired for the job I have been doing (and doing well) all week. The worst part of the whole thing is that I'm still going to work on Saturdays and I'm going to be training the lady they hired on Monday.
It would be a lie to say that I didn't cry in Brian's office, I did. Not an ugly cry or anything, just watering eyes and a red face. I am grateful that I was able to hold in the sobs until later. Normally I can keep myself pretty well put together for this sort of thing...it's just a bad week, though.
When I come to work on Monday people are going to ask if I've heard about the job yet...and I'm going to have to tell them that I'm training the new lady. And I want to tell them so much more. I want to tell them to treat with the same kindness and courtesy that they treat me. The Service people really liked me and told me over and over again that they wanted me to be hired.
God and I... we're still working on this issue of trust. I thought I was finally understanding, but apparently not. While I was talking to Brian about the job situation he told me that everything happens for a reason, and then asked me if I was a faithful person. He told me about his life story, and that just about made me want to cry more. He's a devout Catholic, and while I don't agree with everything about their denomination I could see the light of Christ in him. Yet another reminder from God that He is in everything, and that He has something better for me.
Brian told me that he really does believe that everything happens for a reason. So do I, so do I feel the Divine Hand at work.
There have been people in my life recently trying to force this on me. It's not that I don't know it, but I don't always need to hear it. For some reason Brian's adamant confession didn't bother me as much as someone telling me to be content with where I am. Honestly, with all do respect, I know that I should be content with whatever phase of life, but this one is so incredibly hard. I'm doing everything I can to try and stay positive, but a year of rejection is hard to swallow. It's hard to get past the disappointed hope. It's hard, so don't tell me to be content, tell me you understand.
I'm reading some great literature right now that is really helping me to embrace this God-lesson of trust. Ann Voskamp, you should follow her blog, wrote a wonderful book called "One Thousand Gifts." You should find it and read it if you're struggling with anything remotely like this or any kind of disappointment. She understands how hard life can be and how hard it can be to be content.
There was so much anger built up inside last night that it kept leaking out of my eyes and my face was so tired from the salt-drenching. When it came time to actually go to bed, I couldn't do it. I couldn't close my eyes because I didn't want to face today. But here I am, sitting at the desk that I will have to abdicate come Monday. And I'm smiling the best that I can.
I didn't get the job at the car dealership. Even though I wasn't fired and was just not hired, it feels like I was fired because I wasn't hired for the job I have been doing (and doing well) all week. The worst part of the whole thing is that I'm still going to work on Saturdays and I'm going to be training the lady they hired on Monday.
It would be a lie to say that I didn't cry in Brian's office, I did. Not an ugly cry or anything, just watering eyes and a red face. I am grateful that I was able to hold in the sobs until later. Normally I can keep myself pretty well put together for this sort of thing...it's just a bad week, though.
When I come to work on Monday people are going to ask if I've heard about the job yet...and I'm going to have to tell them that I'm training the new lady. And I want to tell them so much more. I want to tell them to treat with the same kindness and courtesy that they treat me. The Service people really liked me and told me over and over again that they wanted me to be hired.
God and I... we're still working on this issue of trust. I thought I was finally understanding, but apparently not. While I was talking to Brian about the job situation he told me that everything happens for a reason, and then asked me if I was a faithful person. He told me about his life story, and that just about made me want to cry more. He's a devout Catholic, and while I don't agree with everything about their denomination I could see the light of Christ in him. Yet another reminder from God that He is in everything, and that He has something better for me.
Brian told me that he really does believe that everything happens for a reason. So do I, so do I feel the Divine Hand at work.
There have been people in my life recently trying to force this on me. It's not that I don't know it, but I don't always need to hear it. For some reason Brian's adamant confession didn't bother me as much as someone telling me to be content with where I am. Honestly, with all do respect, I know that I should be content with whatever phase of life, but this one is so incredibly hard. I'm doing everything I can to try and stay positive, but a year of rejection is hard to swallow. It's hard to get past the disappointed hope. It's hard, so don't tell me to be content, tell me you understand.
I'm reading some great literature right now that is really helping me to embrace this God-lesson of trust. Ann Voskamp, you should follow her blog, wrote a wonderful book called "One Thousand Gifts." You should find it and read it if you're struggling with anything remotely like this or any kind of disappointment. She understands how hard life can be and how hard it can be to be content.
There was so much anger built up inside last night that it kept leaking out of my eyes and my face was so tired from the salt-drenching. When it came time to actually go to bed, I couldn't do it. I couldn't close my eyes because I didn't want to face today. But here I am, sitting at the desk that I will have to abdicate come Monday. And I'm smiling the best that I can.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Why are you so far from me?
As usual, it's been a while since I last posted and a lot has happened in that time period. I do promise to be more diligent in posting this summer and this next year. I forget how therapeutic blogging can be--and for me, always is.
Instead of going into long details about what has happened, I think a list is in order. This list won't necessarily be in any particular order beside that which they come to me in.
1. I graduated from college with my B.A. in English. I walked across the stage afraid that my cap would tumble off my head, but made it to the president's hand, shook it firmly, and went on my merry way.
2. The Civil Wars have been on repeat since I bought their CD last week. I can't get enough, but wish they had another CD out. There's something about the organic sound and soulful lyrics that speaks to me...
3. My brother graduated from high school. This was huge because his graduation means that my parents could be empty nesters (an idea that I have ruined, but I'll get to that in a bit). I was responsible for the cake at his party, and it was a big success.
4. I did some house sitting for my cousin over this last weekend. She has a new dog (it's actually her boyfriend's, but the basset hound stays are her house), Oliver is a slime monster--cute, but drools a lot. And he's definitely a social eater.
5. I received four rejection letters. And that means that graduate school as not as near as I had hoped. This is why my parents are not going to be empty nesters quite yet. I'm taking the year off and just working, assuming I can find a job in town.
6. There's a possibility that I could be moving to Colorado to live with my brother while he goes to film school and I work. It's a possibility, but also a kind of last option. We'll see what happens.
7. I went on a date (or two). That was exciting, and the highlight of the last two weeks of school. I could go into this, but I think I'll leave it fairly simple. We're keeping in touch, but since we both graduated and are 13 hours from each other we're not "in a relationship." Letter writing is nice.
8. Goodbyes are hard.
9. My God-lesson right now is definitely Trust--and it's written on my wrist as a reminder. Trust. Trust. Trust.
That's about all I've got for an update right now. I'll see you around though, for sure.
"How long will you make me wait? I don't know how much more I can take. I miss you, but I haven't met you. Oh, but I want to. How I do." [The Civil Wars, To Whom It May Concern]
Instead of going into long details about what has happened, I think a list is in order. This list won't necessarily be in any particular order beside that which they come to me in.
1. I graduated from college with my B.A. in English. I walked across the stage afraid that my cap would tumble off my head, but made it to the president's hand, shook it firmly, and went on my merry way.
2. The Civil Wars have been on repeat since I bought their CD last week. I can't get enough, but wish they had another CD out. There's something about the organic sound and soulful lyrics that speaks to me...
3. My brother graduated from high school. This was huge because his graduation means that my parents could be empty nesters (an idea that I have ruined, but I'll get to that in a bit). I was responsible for the cake at his party, and it was a big success.
4. I did some house sitting for my cousin over this last weekend. She has a new dog (it's actually her boyfriend's, but the basset hound stays are her house), Oliver is a slime monster--cute, but drools a lot. And he's definitely a social eater.
5. I received four rejection letters. And that means that graduate school as not as near as I had hoped. This is why my parents are not going to be empty nesters quite yet. I'm taking the year off and just working, assuming I can find a job in town.
6. There's a possibility that I could be moving to Colorado to live with my brother while he goes to film school and I work. It's a possibility, but also a kind of last option. We'll see what happens.
7. I went on a date (or two). That was exciting, and the highlight of the last two weeks of school. I could go into this, but I think I'll leave it fairly simple. We're keeping in touch, but since we both graduated and are 13 hours from each other we're not "in a relationship." Letter writing is nice.
8. Goodbyes are hard.
9. My God-lesson right now is definitely Trust--and it's written on my wrist as a reminder. Trust. Trust. Trust.
That's about all I've got for an update right now. I'll see you around though, for sure.
"How long will you make me wait? I don't know how much more I can take. I miss you, but I haven't met you. Oh, but I want to. How I do." [The Civil Wars, To Whom It May Concern]
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Hope's not giving up....
This is the story of a girl with a large heart. She filled her head with dreams of fairytales--knights in shining armor, rugged heroes, ladies of high esteem. A place where anything you dreamed could be attained if you worked hard enough.
She put off one dream (the dream of her heart) to pursue her mind's dream. Instead of being content in her place she went to further her knowledge of the fairytale. The time she spent reading and learning was well spent, but occasionally she would get a glimpse of the other dream. It didn't take much--a weekend or a break from her scholastics spent at home was all she needed to awaken the old dream.
Her arms elbow-deep in hot water, eyes looking out over the harvested fields, she wonders why she ever wanted more. A breeze pushes through the screen of the window as she dries her hands on the white tea-towel and suddenly she's somewhere else.
She's a pioneer out on the frontier, or a simple maid in a medieval town. And she is not alone. Instead of preparing for her brother's birthday, she's baking for a child's name day and a husband that's been working hard under the sun. Whomever she prepares the table for, it matters little. The table is prepared--the food a blessing. And that is enough. God is good.
Where did this hope come from? This is the story of a girl that had clung so desperately to hope that she didn't realize when she had let it slip through her fingers for her eyes were squeezed tight--scared to face the truth. She knew the words--God provides--but somewhere along the way she let them grow hollow. Trudging on, day after day, she forgot to offer thanks for the blessings. And the trials. And the rejections, though three there be.
The radio was turned up, louder than it should have been, and the windows rolled down. A song began to play that she had heard a million times--and she loved it all along. Something was different this time around, and words of one of her professors came echoing back, "Read it again, the words won't have changed. But my, you have." How she'd changed, and she didn't even realize it was happening. The song was poignant. Her finger pushed the back button again and again--letting the lyrics be a heavy hammer through the dimness she had been facing. And tears press against her eyes because it's been so long since she's felt anything.
Daylight proved to chase away the darkness and contentment settled in. Peace came over her mind and settled in her heart. Though the days she will face may be difficult, she will not be alone. This is the story of a girl alive with hope.
"Hope, sweet Hope, how much more can she take being our strength when our hearts run out of faith?... Hope is with me in my time of trouble, when it all comes crashing down she will stay by my side digging through the rubble. She's not giving up, not giving up, not giving up..." [Hope, Remedy Drive]
She put off one dream (the dream of her heart) to pursue her mind's dream. Instead of being content in her place she went to further her knowledge of the fairytale. The time she spent reading and learning was well spent, but occasionally she would get a glimpse of the other dream. It didn't take much--a weekend or a break from her scholastics spent at home was all she needed to awaken the old dream.
Her arms elbow-deep in hot water, eyes looking out over the harvested fields, she wonders why she ever wanted more. A breeze pushes through the screen of the window as she dries her hands on the white tea-towel and suddenly she's somewhere else.
She's a pioneer out on the frontier, or a simple maid in a medieval town. And she is not alone. Instead of preparing for her brother's birthday, she's baking for a child's name day and a husband that's been working hard under the sun. Whomever she prepares the table for, it matters little. The table is prepared--the food a blessing. And that is enough. God is good.
Where did this hope come from? This is the story of a girl that had clung so desperately to hope that she didn't realize when she had let it slip through her fingers for her eyes were squeezed tight--scared to face the truth. She knew the words--God provides--but somewhere along the way she let them grow hollow. Trudging on, day after day, she forgot to offer thanks for the blessings. And the trials. And the rejections, though three there be.
The radio was turned up, louder than it should have been, and the windows rolled down. A song began to play that she had heard a million times--and she loved it all along. Something was different this time around, and words of one of her professors came echoing back, "Read it again, the words won't have changed. But my, you have." How she'd changed, and she didn't even realize it was happening. The song was poignant. Her finger pushed the back button again and again--letting the lyrics be a heavy hammer through the dimness she had been facing. And tears press against her eyes because it's been so long since she's felt anything.
Daylight proved to chase away the darkness and contentment settled in. Peace came over her mind and settled in her heart. Though the days she will face may be difficult, she will not be alone. This is the story of a girl alive with hope.
"Hope, sweet Hope, how much more can she take being our strength when our hearts run out of faith?... Hope is with me in my time of trouble, when it all comes crashing down she will stay by my side digging through the rubble. She's not giving up, not giving up, not giving up..." [Hope, Remedy Drive]
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
I fear what is to come, and what will become of me...
It's been one of those semesters when I just feel like I'm always one step behind where I need to be. I'm so close, and then I just barely get a hold of that final foothold. It's like Frodo and Sam, you know? Except that my Sam isn't yelling, "Don't you let go. Reach!" ...or is he? Have I just been to deaf to listen?
For church this last Sunday, Claire and I went to the local E-Free church instead of going into Lincoln. Their regular pastor was gone this week so they had the associate speak. In general, the message was fairly repetitive...which bothered me then, but now I am thankful for it. These last two days I've had his words, the words of the psalmist ringing in my ears, "It is good to be near God." I've heard it said that repetition is the best way to learn...but now I truly believe it.
What does this have to do with my inability to listen? The pastor also mentioned that when we feel distant from the Lord it isn't because He has moved--He's waiting for us to come back to Him. We're the one's moving away. I'm the one that's been moving away, and that is why I have been falling behind in everything.
I've been filling out grad school apps and am just generally concerned about that whole process. What if I don't get in to the school I want to? What if I don't get in at all? It is good to be near God. I should stop worrying about these things and remember that regardless of where I end up, it will not be alone and it will not be without God.
These are things I am hearing tonight. So I'll reach out for that hand that never stopped wanting to hold me. It is good to be near God. It is good.
"Will You please hold me? And sing me a love song again, say the words that heal my heart. Sing me a love song and then, let Your words remind me who I am. You never failed me before..."
For church this last Sunday, Claire and I went to the local E-Free church instead of going into Lincoln. Their regular pastor was gone this week so they had the associate speak. In general, the message was fairly repetitive...which bothered me then, but now I am thankful for it. These last two days I've had his words, the words of the psalmist ringing in my ears, "It is good to be near God." I've heard it said that repetition is the best way to learn...but now I truly believe it.
What does this have to do with my inability to listen? The pastor also mentioned that when we feel distant from the Lord it isn't because He has moved--He's waiting for us to come back to Him. We're the one's moving away. I'm the one that's been moving away, and that is why I have been falling behind in everything.
I've been filling out grad school apps and am just generally concerned about that whole process. What if I don't get in to the school I want to? What if I don't get in at all? It is good to be near God. I should stop worrying about these things and remember that regardless of where I end up, it will not be alone and it will not be without God.
These are things I am hearing tonight. So I'll reach out for that hand that never stopped wanting to hold me. It is good to be near God. It is good.
"Will You please hold me? And sing me a love song again, say the words that heal my heart. Sing me a love song and then, let Your words remind me who I am. You never failed me before..."
Friday, September 16, 2011
I ride (write) to find my own meaning...
I've mentioned before (back at the beginning of this blog, ...because they love you) how I feel connected to Eowyn from "The Lord of the Rings." She is perhaps my favorite female character in all the literature I have read thus far. It runs deeper than her relationship with Aragorn (or lack there of) or Faramir (something I long for).
I feel like she is cruelly misunderstood by the general audience. There are two main things I see:
1. People have only seen the movies. Now, I love the Peter Jackson adaptation of the books. However, I think he significantly downplayed Eowyn's character and the real issues she was dealing with (especially in the theatrical version). Viewers get the impression that she was simply love sick--tired of being left behind at home and wanting some adventure. Aragorn was different and definitely a break from the hum-drum of her life.
2. She's a fairly minor character when compared to Gandalf, Aragorn, or Frodo. She has a huge moment, but doesn't come in until the second book, she just doesn't get as much space on the page as some of the other characters. So maybe readers just don't pay her much attention. Or they don't see some of the things about her character because it takes those around her a long time to figure it out--they chalk it up to being lovesick as well.
There's more going on there. [More going on in me.] Now, there are definitely elements of her being lovesick (but there's a cause behind the cause) and she is a minor character (which is part of why she is the way she is!). It's all very intriguing to me, and I wrote a paper on it last semester (and posted it here, I'm preparing you for something great...)... but I'm going to try to paraphrase what I'm feeling right now.
Her biggest issue is finding her place in the world--what her purpose is. Her brother and uncle get to ride off into battle and gain honor and renown--something she yearns for. She doesn't want to be forgotten. So, she's learned how to fight and defend herself. She has honed her skill because she doesn't want to be left behind; the last defense.
Eowyn wants to be remembered for doing something great. For making a difference. She wants to die with honor.
Now, maybe this is just the effects of my "Death, Dying, and Trauma" class coming out, but I want the same thing. I want to use my life for something with purpose. I want to make a difference. And when I die I want it to be with grace and dignity. (That class will make you think about death in a way you would never imagine.)
I don't think I'm the only one. Eowyn's character speaks to something so very human. Nobody wants to be forgotten and left behind. She was struggling deep within herself. Her upbringing was telling her one thing while her heart said something else. Her heart says, "you can be a hero." Her mind says, "you're only a woman."
Sometimes I take on the same mentality. I'm only one person. One young woman. What weight can I bear in this world?
I don't suffer from depression. (Not that I know of, anyway.) And so I can't claim that part of her character to be an echo of myself. She was fighting against social norms, and I do feel like I'm doing that myself, in a different way.
I found a song on iTunes really randomly one day. It's called "Eowyn's Song" and it's beautiful. It captures her character perfectly (while focusing on the Aragorn issue, which is still a big deal, don't get me wrong). Please listen to it. (LeAnn, you've already heard it, but you can always listen again.) This is the song that prompted this post, so it's kind of a big deal. Ha.
There's a line in the song, "I ride to find my own meaning," and I don't think any combination of words could described her situation (in a nutshell) any better. And that is something so deeply ingrained in me. Instead, I don't ride horses (I'll leave that you, Lisa, dear). I find my meaning in my writing (and in the Bible and Christ, but that's a Sunday School answer) because writing is the way I let go of the things that distract me. It's my way of filtering through the turmoil and the joy.
"No one will hear of this tale." This is an interesting comment on the view of history and how it is recorded and retold. (My Ling and Lang senses are tingling.)
"I go with a mind full of death." I'm not suicidal. Not even close. But there is something in this that tugs at me. Something about Eowyn's plight pulls at my heart so strongly... She has a heart of sacrifice, if that is what will get her honor and valor. "Oh, I would have followed you down to the end, my captain, my King. Oh, I would have followed you down to the Paths of the Dead."
"Fire consumes the heart that teaches captain of evil to fall. Desire, as pure as the man that reaches the humble hero in us all." This is my favorite line. Absolute favorite. Because she is the one that teaches the Witch King to fall. She did this from a pure desire. And I think "the man that reaches" is Aragorn, and he taught her to be a hero in a backwards kind of way. He was belittling her, like some might think. Indeed, he pitied her. He was reaching the humble hero in the hearts of the Hobbits, and he did the same for her.
I'm not articulating this as well as I had hoped I would. But maybe you understand. Maybe you see yourself echoed here. Maybe you, too, worry for the way you will be remembered. The way you will leave your mark on this world.
"...the humble hero in us all."
I feel like she is cruelly misunderstood by the general audience. There are two main things I see:
1. People have only seen the movies. Now, I love the Peter Jackson adaptation of the books. However, I think he significantly downplayed Eowyn's character and the real issues she was dealing with (especially in the theatrical version). Viewers get the impression that she was simply love sick--tired of being left behind at home and wanting some adventure. Aragorn was different and definitely a break from the hum-drum of her life.
2. She's a fairly minor character when compared to Gandalf, Aragorn, or Frodo. She has a huge moment, but doesn't come in until the second book, she just doesn't get as much space on the page as some of the other characters. So maybe readers just don't pay her much attention. Or they don't see some of the things about her character because it takes those around her a long time to figure it out--they chalk it up to being lovesick as well.
There's more going on there. [More going on in me.] Now, there are definitely elements of her being lovesick (but there's a cause behind the cause) and she is a minor character (which is part of why she is the way she is!). It's all very intriguing to me, and I wrote a paper on it last semester (and posted it here, I'm preparing you for something great...)... but I'm going to try to paraphrase what I'm feeling right now.
Her biggest issue is finding her place in the world--what her purpose is. Her brother and uncle get to ride off into battle and gain honor and renown--something she yearns for. She doesn't want to be forgotten. So, she's learned how to fight and defend herself. She has honed her skill because she doesn't want to be left behind; the last defense.
Eowyn wants to be remembered for doing something great. For making a difference. She wants to die with honor.
Now, maybe this is just the effects of my "Death, Dying, and Trauma" class coming out, but I want the same thing. I want to use my life for something with purpose. I want to make a difference. And when I die I want it to be with grace and dignity. (That class will make you think about death in a way you would never imagine.)
I don't think I'm the only one. Eowyn's character speaks to something so very human. Nobody wants to be forgotten and left behind. She was struggling deep within herself. Her upbringing was telling her one thing while her heart said something else. Her heart says, "you can be a hero." Her mind says, "you're only a woman."
Sometimes I take on the same mentality. I'm only one person. One young woman. What weight can I bear in this world?
I don't suffer from depression. (Not that I know of, anyway.) And so I can't claim that part of her character to be an echo of myself. She was fighting against social norms, and I do feel like I'm doing that myself, in a different way.
I found a song on iTunes really randomly one day. It's called "Eowyn's Song" and it's beautiful. It captures her character perfectly (while focusing on the Aragorn issue, which is still a big deal, don't get me wrong). Please listen to it. (LeAnn, you've already heard it, but you can always listen again.) This is the song that prompted this post, so it's kind of a big deal. Ha.
There's a line in the song, "I ride to find my own meaning," and I don't think any combination of words could described her situation (in a nutshell) any better. And that is something so deeply ingrained in me. Instead, I don't ride horses (I'll leave that you, Lisa, dear). I find my meaning in my writing (and in the Bible and Christ, but that's a Sunday School answer) because writing is the way I let go of the things that distract me. It's my way of filtering through the turmoil and the joy.
"No one will hear of this tale." This is an interesting comment on the view of history and how it is recorded and retold. (My Ling and Lang senses are tingling.)
"I go with a mind full of death." I'm not suicidal. Not even close. But there is something in this that tugs at me. Something about Eowyn's plight pulls at my heart so strongly... She has a heart of sacrifice, if that is what will get her honor and valor. "Oh, I would have followed you down to the end, my captain, my King. Oh, I would have followed you down to the Paths of the Dead."
"Fire consumes the heart that teaches captain of evil to fall. Desire, as pure as the man that reaches the humble hero in us all." This is my favorite line. Absolute favorite. Because she is the one that teaches the Witch King to fall. She did this from a pure desire. And I think "the man that reaches" is Aragorn, and he taught her to be a hero in a backwards kind of way. He was belittling her, like some might think. Indeed, he pitied her. He was reaching the humble hero in the hearts of the Hobbits, and he did the same for her.
I'm not articulating this as well as I had hoped I would. But maybe you understand. Maybe you see yourself echoed here. Maybe you, too, worry for the way you will be remembered. The way you will leave your mark on this world.
"...the humble hero in us all."
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Like butter scraped over too much bread...
What am I doing tonight?
On the floor, on my stomach, typing away at Morning Star -- there's an engagement! I'm excited that such an emotional scene last night could evolve into something so expected, but not at that moment. It's all about timing. I'm sipping coffee, writing, and yes, half watching Magnum PI.
And you know what? I have a headache. Normally I'm pretty decent at multitasking, but I'm not tonight. My brain isn't keeping up with what I want to be doing. Part of that is from lack of sleep--I was up rather late last night, writing. The night is still young though, and so I'm looking for ways to keep myself awake. (Hence the decaf coffee. I know, it's decaf, but it's hot.)
I started a new workout program this week, and I'm really excited about it. But it's way more intense than what I had been doing, and so I'm a little sore in the shoulders. And I've been having chronic stomach pain every evening. (Just a general ickyness.)
Then there's the upcoming GRE. That's got me more than just a little stressed out. Last night, a friend reminded me that not all colleges care about this test. In fact, the school I'm most interested in said that it wasn't a requirement, but what recommended. Why am I taking it then? Hopefully I'll do well on it. I need to study. I mean, I really need to buckle down and study. There are so many other things that occupy my mind though... I know that while I'm testing I'll start thinking about Elves and Fantasy worlds... but I should study anyway, and put forth a strong effort.
I also didn't get a letter in the mail on time today. And that upsets me. When did I start slacking with putting letters in the mailbox? That's not even the worst of it, I have letters backed up waiting for responses from the end of June. I should do that. I really should, and I know I should. So why haven't I?
There are pictures that need to be taken. I need to get my Etsy account all squared away with product pictures. Maybe my cousin will be a bag model for me...I'll have to call her sometime soon.
And now I am indescribably thankful that I did not get a job this summer.
Nerd factor of the night: I'm drinking coffee from a Lord of the Rings mug...that I designed. It's pretty sweet, not going to lie.
"You don't even have to talk about what you're talking about. If you know what I mean." [Magnum PI]
On the floor, on my stomach, typing away at Morning Star -- there's an engagement! I'm excited that such an emotional scene last night could evolve into something so expected, but not at that moment. It's all about timing. I'm sipping coffee, writing, and yes, half watching Magnum PI.
And you know what? I have a headache. Normally I'm pretty decent at multitasking, but I'm not tonight. My brain isn't keeping up with what I want to be doing. Part of that is from lack of sleep--I was up rather late last night, writing. The night is still young though, and so I'm looking for ways to keep myself awake. (Hence the decaf coffee. I know, it's decaf, but it's hot.)
I started a new workout program this week, and I'm really excited about it. But it's way more intense than what I had been doing, and so I'm a little sore in the shoulders. And I've been having chronic stomach pain every evening. (Just a general ickyness.)
Then there's the upcoming GRE. That's got me more than just a little stressed out. Last night, a friend reminded me that not all colleges care about this test. In fact, the school I'm most interested in said that it wasn't a requirement, but what recommended. Why am I taking it then? Hopefully I'll do well on it. I need to study. I mean, I really need to buckle down and study. There are so many other things that occupy my mind though... I know that while I'm testing I'll start thinking about Elves and Fantasy worlds... but I should study anyway, and put forth a strong effort.
I also didn't get a letter in the mail on time today. And that upsets me. When did I start slacking with putting letters in the mailbox? That's not even the worst of it, I have letters backed up waiting for responses from the end of June. I should do that. I really should, and I know I should. So why haven't I?
There are pictures that need to be taken. I need to get my Etsy account all squared away with product pictures. Maybe my cousin will be a bag model for me...I'll have to call her sometime soon.
And now I am indescribably thankful that I did not get a job this summer.
Nerd factor of the night: I'm drinking coffee from a Lord of the Rings mug...that I designed. It's pretty sweet, not going to lie.
"You don't even have to talk about what you're talking about. If you know what I mean." [Magnum PI]
Monday, May 16, 2011
How did You go and make me pretty?
My friend, Leesha Harvey, is an aspiring musician, and she's awesome. You should go look up her music, it's great. I don't know if it's on iTunes or not... but you can do a free download of her new album, and then donate to get the lyrics and some awesome photography! Go here! (The title of the post came from one of her songs, hence the plug.) (Lisa, I think you would enjoy this.)
It's funny, I was originally going to talk about music here--one song particularly. And then, while I was getting ready to start the post that song played and that line just struck me, and it had to be a post title.
So, the main event:
This morning in church we sang "Blessed Be Your Name." Now most people know that song, especially if they attend a church with contemporary worship--it tends to be a favorite. So, it's not strange that we sang it or anything. However, it got me thinking. If there's one song that has been a theme in my life, it's this one. I mean, there are all kinds of songs that I can listen to and remember a period in my life that was totally in sync with it, but this song in particular has been with me through many storms.
Maybe there's someone out there that isn't familiar with the song. (If so, go find it on YouTube, a ton of artists sing it, feel free to get a variety!)
I just want to share with you all my journey with this song.
I grew up singing this song: Sunday mornings, and some Wednesday nights when I was in middle school and high school, and Church camp. It's been a huge part of my churchgoing experience. Most you know how it is: you sing a song so many times it can start to lose meaning. Not so with this song, not for me. It speaks to several different times in one's life that it is always relatable in new ways.
When I was first told I had to wear a back brace I didn't think it would turn into a two year ordeal. But while I was in that thing, the song was able to speak to that wilderness. "God, this sucks. Why am I having to go through this? Yet I love You. Blessed be Your name." And I guarantee you that when I was finally released from the spine doctor, my heart was singing (along with my mouth)
"Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name"
I found out last year that the lady that took my senior pictures, a family friend, has a rare lung disease. Basically, her lungs are turning into smooth muscle, which means no breathing once it gets too bad. She was pregnant when we found out. I was home for the weekend, or something, and Mom told me just as I was arriving. I remember going down to my room. I was angry at God. Why would He let that happen to her? She is one of the sweetest ladies I know, and she needs Christ in her life. While I was in my room, I was laying on my bed, staring the ceiling, choking on tears. Suddenly, this song popped into my head. And I sang. At the top of my lungs, not thinking about the people above me.
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name."
Over and over again.
"You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name."
The idea that the life within her womb could have brought her closer to death made me feel ill. And still I sang, even though it hurt.
When I found out that my middle school science teacher had died, I was alone in my dorm room. I don't remember where LeAnn was, but I'm glad she wasn't there. I had been studying Greek. And then I wasn't. I was laying on the floor crying my lungs away, until I couldn't hardly breathe. Then I climbed up into my bed, and cried some more. I tried to sing again. I thought maybe that this loss would be easier to bear if I could honestly still sing, "Blessed be Your name, God, even though this isn't fair." But I couldn't make my lung work anymore. So I went home for the visitation. And after I spent five minutes in the room, I went out to my car and cried some more. I called my friend Cole and cried to him for a while. (Cole, I'm still incredibly thankful for your silence when I couldn't speak, and for your encouragement when I was breathing again.) When I hung up with him, I stared at the roof of my car, and I was finally able to sing again.
"When the darkness closes in,
Lord Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord"
(Someday I will be able to write a more in depth blog about this, but right now I can't.)
While this song speaks to me in my joys, I find it is a megaphone to my sorrows. And today when we sang it in church I wasn't either. I was neither joyful nor sorrowful. I simply was. And that was okay. For here there may be sorrows sown, and there will be joys reaped. I'm learning that through it all, the good and the bad, God is making me beautiful. I don't understand, and it's painful, but He's doing it. And I love it. So, I will sing with arms raised and heart abandoned because I know that threw it all, even when the way is tough and my heart is numb, "Blessed be Your name!"
"I will remain silent. Time will not heal the loss. Look to the One before us. Journey this road to the Cross. And we walk, we walk. What else can we do? Though the road seems that much harder, now that we're walking without you." [Leesha Harvey]
Saturday, January 15, 2011
So it begins...
The first week of the semester is over, and it's been kind of intense. I have five English classes this semester, and three of them are literature classes, one a reading intensive Language and Linguistics class, it's easy to say that I am going to absolutely love my Poetry Writing class. Poetry is going to be my detox class.
It's funny, with the start of this semester I find a new kind of peace.
Last night I watched Despicable Me with some friends. Afterwards we were all talking and at 11:11 I said, "Make a wish!" Both of the girls with me wished about a boy. And I thought to myself, "I don't have anyone to wish for." And that was okay. As much as I want to be on that path to wife-dom and motherhood, I am at peace with the fact that I am not right now.
Over Christmas break I did a lot of cooking and cleaning, and now I am learning time management--patience. I am learning my "God-lessons" as I like to call them. When I'm in the thick of it, and I'm fighting with God about how well I need to actually learn a lesson, I find myself thinking that he must surely be learning his own "God-lessons." And I know that we will both be better for this wait.
"Some things are certain." [Arwen]
It's funny, with the start of this semester I find a new kind of peace.
Last night I watched Despicable Me with some friends. Afterwards we were all talking and at 11:11 I said, "Make a wish!" Both of the girls with me wished about a boy. And I thought to myself, "I don't have anyone to wish for." And that was okay. As much as I want to be on that path to wife-dom and motherhood, I am at peace with the fact that I am not right now.
Over Christmas break I did a lot of cooking and cleaning, and now I am learning time management--patience. I am learning my "God-lessons" as I like to call them. When I'm in the thick of it, and I'm fighting with God about how well I need to actually learn a lesson, I find myself thinking that he must surely be learning his own "God-lessons." And I know that we will both be better for this wait.
"Some things are certain." [Arwen]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)