I can't write anything. I've got two posts marked "Draft" waiting for
me, but I can't seem to face them with the respect they deserve. Belonging and Responsibility to Christ. The words just sit there and mock me as I stare back. I can't find the emotion to write them and keep them sincere. I know that if I were to try, I'd be forcing out each syllable and twisting the letters to fit a lie. That, dear friends, is the last thing I want.
I wrote a poem once about how I couldn't write. It ended up being a story-poem with the plot line as follows: I couldn't write, so I sat there looking at an empty page. Finally, inspiration. I write about the empty page I stare at. It was simple, really, and not very long. But this is a different kind of emptiness and how can I write about a blank white canvas on a screen? This emptiness is one that's full of questions. But the questions don't shout or demand answers. They lie there, quiet. Now and again one will whisper, but not often enough to break this feeling. In the silence I see my past and a thousand more questions come rushing in. Rushing in and crashing like a wave. Like something that should make noise and rip apart these foggy seams, but no. This is a silent film. The only sounds are my fingers on the keys and the crunch of pretzel or granola. What kind of backdrop is that? What sort of emotion is this? It doesn't really have a name. It is an emptiness, but it is full of silent songs and questions and memories. And how can an emptiness be full anyway? Tell me, what did I do? What did I do to cause this? I can't escape it. I can run and shout and scream all I want, but I don't make any more noise than do these questions that cling onto me. I'm not even sure how much of this makes sense. I want to feel despair, but instead I feel numb. Pain, joy, anger... anything is welcome if only it will break this down.
I miss my friends. The ones who never knew how much I loved them. The people I want so much now to sit down with and talk to. The ones I promised never to let go. I miss them. I could be real around them and not worry about them judging me. Now, I have to be careful what I say and do just because I know people are watching me. They're looking me up and down and putting a label on me. The different one. Not different in the stereotypical Christian "Oh everyone will see there's something different about you and wonder what it is you have that they don't" type. Not the "everyone's different and that's what makes us unique" kind either. Outcast different. I suppose I shouldn't care. It never bothered me much before. I suppose it doesn't bother me so much now, either, but I think I wish they'd let me breathe. That they'd allow me to take down my mask for a while and give me some space so that I could be who I am in the truest sense. I wish that almost as much as I wish I could form a coherent thought. Or a decent blog post for that matter. If only it weren't for this emptiness...
February 16, 2013
February 11, 2013
Responsibility to Christ
There are so many souls in one room. Next time you're standing in Wal-Mart or church, or some other sort of active and public environment, look around. The sheer amount of people there... It's overwhelming. What can one person do for so many? How can we love so many? How is it even possible? I could pull on some sort of story or metaphor here, but I won't. I'll just speak the truth. Our impact is on as many as we can manage to affect. Just because we can't reach everyone doesn't mean we shouldn't bother trying to reach anyone at all.
It is an enormous amount of responsibility to be a Christian. We have a high calling and responsibility to Christ that it seems we forget. All too often we find ourselves, or rather we lose ourselves in the cracks and crevices of our own minds. Not until church or Bible study, if then, do we remember what we've been called to do. Our battle is raging whether we recognize it or not and the longer we remain oblivious, the farther we slip away. Life is constantly in motion and honestly it's all we can do to keep up. But we must keep running.
It is an enormous amount of responsibility to be a Christian. We have a high calling and responsibility to Christ that it seems we forget. All too often we find ourselves, or rather we lose ourselves in the cracks and crevices of our own minds. Not until church or Bible study, if then, do we remember what we've been called to do. Our battle is raging whether we recognize it or not and the longer we remain oblivious, the farther we slip away. Life is constantly in motion and honestly it's all we can do to keep up. But we must keep running.
February 7, 2013
Three Steps from Crashing (East to West)
There are some days when you just can't win. There are some days when you're on top of the world. And then there are those bipolar days that just can't decide what to do with themselves...
"East To West"
Written by Casting Crowns
Here I am, Lord, and I'm drowning in your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest
I don't want to end up where You found me
And it echoes in my mind, keeps me awake tonight
I know You've cast my sin as far as the east is from the west
And I stand before You now as though I've never sinned
But today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way
Jesus, can You show me just how far the east is from the west
'cause I can't bear to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other
I start the day, the war begins, endless reminding of my sin
Time and time again Your truth is drowned out by the storm I'm in
Today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way
I know You've washed me white, turned my darkness into light
I need Your peace to get me through, to get me through this night
I can't live by what I feel, but by the truth Your word reveals
I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me
You're holding on to me
Jesus, You know just how far the east is from the west
I don't have to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other
One scarred hand to the other
From one scarred hand to the other
"East To West"
Written by Casting Crowns
Here I am, Lord, and I'm drowning in your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest
I don't want to end up where You found me
And it echoes in my mind, keeps me awake tonight
I know You've cast my sin as far as the east is from the west
And I stand before You now as though I've never sinned
But today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way
Jesus, can You show me just how far the east is from the west
'cause I can't bear to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other
I start the day, the war begins, endless reminding of my sin
Time and time again Your truth is drowned out by the storm I'm in
Today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way
I know You've washed me white, turned my darkness into light
I need Your peace to get me through, to get me through this night
I can't live by what I feel, but by the truth Your word reveals
I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me
You're holding on to me
Jesus, You know just how far the east is from the west
I don't have to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other
One scarred hand to the other
From one scarred hand to the other
December 18, 2012
Remember the Fallen
I couldn't find a reason to grieve. I was sure there was something wrong with me. Hadn't I loved her? Everyone else was crying....
My great-grandma died close to a week ago. Sunday, December 2, 2012. We went to the funeral and I couldn't find any reason to feel even a semblance of grief for her. In all honesty, I still can't. I tried all the typical reasons.
I'll never see her again: Actually, I will. I'll see her in paradise.
She's not going to be here for Christmas: is this really getting to be about me getting presents? That's pitiful. She's not celebrating Christ's birth here, but she's WITH Christ. That's way better than any Christmas gathering.
She's gone. I can't see her any more: yes, she's gone. She is gone into Heaven. She can breathe freely. She can move. She can run and shout and laugh and dance again.
Death hadn't touched my life until then, save for the loss of two dogs, a hermit crab, and one relative I had never known. Even for my PETS I cried. But for my great-grandma? No. In the span of about 20 minutes I felt sadness. Not grief or sorrow, but sadness.
And now, here I am. This is one week after the mass shooting in Newtown. I think of those 26 killed. I think back to the stories I've heard of Columbine. Of the shootings in Tucson, in Aurora, in so many places within the past few years. I think of my friend's pastor who killed himself last year. I think of all of them who lost their lives, people I don't even know, and I grieve with a sorrow I have never known. It's a physical heartache. Something that makes my stomach knot and my head hurt. I do not hate the shooters. I weep for them. The boy in Newtown, he didn't just wake up that morning with a psychopathic urge to kill. He was human. He IS human. The others were too. The shooters, the victims, the witnesses, they're all HUMAN. I am by no means saying that what they did was right. I am not saying it is acceptable. But they didn't just desire blood. They were driven to that by so many different forces and voices. Some of those were their own.
Now, there are so many families who will wake on Christmas morning and weep bitterly for their children. For their husbands. Wives. Mothers. Fathers. And they will wonder why God would do this if he existed. They will despair in their loss. The shootings go on in theaters, churches, mosques, schools, homes, streets...
And so I grieve for them.
It is devastating. Those children may not have been saved. They will never get to live out their lives. They won't have children of their own. Their families, their friends, now live with not only the memory of their lives but with the memories of their deaths. Depression may ensue. Despair. Falling away from God. Hatred toward those who murdered the ones they loved. And all of this is understandable. To an extent it is expected. No words can compensate for the people you have lost. The nation truly does grieve with you.
Even still, remember those who begin such things. A teenager who decides to open fire on classmates before killing himself may be driven by depression. Depression brought on by others. Everything you do has a consequence. There have been multiple accounts of people planning suicide then rejecting it because someone reminded them that they are Human. That they matter. These kids were reminded of that because someone picked up their books, said hi to them, complimented them somehow. And it saved their life.
To those reading this long after these current events, do not forget to remember the fallen. Do not reject those who hurt. Do not cause the harm that pushes people toward, to, and over the edge of control into the abyss of depression and darkness.
To those not affected by these shootings: pray. Pray for the men, women, and children who have lost ones they loved. That they still love. Pray for comfort and peace. Pray for something good to come from this.
To those involved or affected by the shootings... There are no words for what has happened and I am deeply, deeply sorry. I pray for you. I weep for you, with you, and will continue to do so for years to come. Evil is hard at work. No law or regulation can stop Satan. Comfort each other. I pray that _something_ good would come out of this. Trust in God, because He is there. I can't explain the "why?"s. But there is a reason. Somehow, somewhere, there is a reason. Whether we will ever see or understand it, I don't know.
To you all: Remember the forgotten.
Ltpoethearts.blogspot.com
My great-grandma died close to a week ago. Sunday, December 2, 2012. We went to the funeral and I couldn't find any reason to feel even a semblance of grief for her. In all honesty, I still can't. I tried all the typical reasons.
I'll never see her again: Actually, I will. I'll see her in paradise.
She's not going to be here for Christmas: is this really getting to be about me getting presents? That's pitiful. She's not celebrating Christ's birth here, but she's WITH Christ. That's way better than any Christmas gathering.
She's gone. I can't see her any more: yes, she's gone. She is gone into Heaven. She can breathe freely. She can move. She can run and shout and laugh and dance again.
Death hadn't touched my life until then, save for the loss of two dogs, a hermit crab, and one relative I had never known. Even for my PETS I cried. But for my great-grandma? No. In the span of about 20 minutes I felt sadness. Not grief or sorrow, but sadness.
And now, here I am. This is one week after the mass shooting in Newtown. I think of those 26 killed. I think back to the stories I've heard of Columbine. Of the shootings in Tucson, in Aurora, in so many places within the past few years. I think of my friend's pastor who killed himself last year. I think of all of them who lost their lives, people I don't even know, and I grieve with a sorrow I have never known. It's a physical heartache. Something that makes my stomach knot and my head hurt. I do not hate the shooters. I weep for them. The boy in Newtown, he didn't just wake up that morning with a psychopathic urge to kill. He was human. He IS human. The others were too. The shooters, the victims, the witnesses, they're all HUMAN. I am by no means saying that what they did was right. I am not saying it is acceptable. But they didn't just desire blood. They were driven to that by so many different forces and voices. Some of those were their own.
Now, there are so many families who will wake on Christmas morning and weep bitterly for their children. For their husbands. Wives. Mothers. Fathers. And they will wonder why God would do this if he existed. They will despair in their loss. The shootings go on in theaters, churches, mosques, schools, homes, streets...
And so I grieve for them.
It is devastating. Those children may not have been saved. They will never get to live out their lives. They won't have children of their own. Their families, their friends, now live with not only the memory of their lives but with the memories of their deaths. Depression may ensue. Despair. Falling away from God. Hatred toward those who murdered the ones they loved. And all of this is understandable. To an extent it is expected. No words can compensate for the people you have lost. The nation truly does grieve with you.
Even still, remember those who begin such things. A teenager who decides to open fire on classmates before killing himself may be driven by depression. Depression brought on by others. Everything you do has a consequence. There have been multiple accounts of people planning suicide then rejecting it because someone reminded them that they are Human. That they matter. These kids were reminded of that because someone picked up their books, said hi to them, complimented them somehow. And it saved their life.
To those reading this long after these current events, do not forget to remember the fallen. Do not reject those who hurt. Do not cause the harm that pushes people toward, to, and over the edge of control into the abyss of depression and darkness.
To those not affected by these shootings: pray. Pray for the men, women, and children who have lost ones they loved. That they still love. Pray for comfort and peace. Pray for something good to come from this.
To those involved or affected by the shootings... There are no words for what has happened and I am deeply, deeply sorry. I pray for you. I weep for you, with you, and will continue to do so for years to come. Evil is hard at work. No law or regulation can stop Satan. Comfort each other. I pray that _something_ good would come out of this. Trust in God, because He is there. I can't explain the "why?"s. But there is a reason. Somehow, somewhere, there is a reason. Whether we will ever see or understand it, I don't know.
To you all: Remember the forgotten.
Ltpoethearts.blogspot.com
December 4, 2012
Questions...
Why is it that just when everything looks perfect and I've neatly arranged all my scenery that a whirlwind comes through and threatens everything? Just when I've filed away all of my Fears and shoved the last few crumbs of Doubt under the rug, a twister runs through and throws everything back out into the open again so that I have to rush to cover it until I have more time to reorganize. I'd just neared recovery from two back-to-back internal battles (the earthquake and the aftershock). Little did I know, a hurricane was on the way. My great-grandma died on Sunday night. I haven't slowed down enough to really soak it in and everything it means. I'm not sure I want to. Maybe this is that "denial stage". If I keep moving long enough, if I can fall asleep fast enough at night, I won't have to think about it and it won't mess me up again. I can outrun the hurricane.
Maybe that's a fantasy, but it's one of the few things I still want to believe. I can't seem to find the light at the end of any of these twisting and winding tunnels. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've been going in circles for months.
Maybe life wasn't meant to be put together. People always seem to think someone or other has their life all figured out, but what if that's not even possible?
Maybe that's a fantasy, but it's one of the few things I still want to believe. I can't seem to find the light at the end of any of these twisting and winding tunnels. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've been going in circles for months.
Maybe life wasn't meant to be put together. People always seem to think someone or other has their life all figured out, but what if that's not even possible?
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