Lion's Tears

New year...wow. Well...to celebrate, I wrote a new poem. Kinda sums up what I've learned (and will be learning) this whole year.

God bless!

Lion’s Tears

The girl lay, broken
And bruised…
Tears running silently
Down her cheeks.

Pain, blackness, hurt…
Fear…

The girl curled up
As shadows came
To haunt her,
Terrorize her.

Pain, blackness, hurt…
Fear…

The hands grabbed her,
Laughing as she struggled,
Pain from each touch.

“God, help me,” she
Begged tearfully,
“Please…do something.”

Over and over they
Came.
Making her wonder
Why she was so
Special,
To be noticed by
Them.

“Isn’t once enough?”
She wondered,
Broken and bleeding,
“Why come again?
Why keep coming?
Can’t they go find
Someone else?”

Time after time…
How long?

Eternity?
The girl didn’t know.

Pain, blackness, hurt…
Fear…

They came for her
Again.
The shadows of her
Nightmares.

She curled up,
Waiting for the blows
To come,
For her heart to
Turn off,
And the
Numbness
To come.

It didn’t.
None of it came.

Her eyes flew open,
Half concealed in a
Dark corner,
She wondered what
Was going on.

She could see
Them
Just a few feet
Away,
Pacing angrily.

There was another
Shadow,
A new one…
She couldn’t make
Out its form.

Suddenly, she heard
A voice,
“Enough! You will
Not come
Near her again.”

The shadows moved
And she heard a
Low growl of warning.
They turned and left,
Glaring at her.

The girl watched as
Someone turned and
Walked towards her.
Her eyes widened in
Relief
As a lion came into
View.

She collapsed into
Sobs.
And the lion
Curled up
Around her.

The girl buried her
Head and hands into
His mane,
Falling into a restful
Sleep.

The lion stood guard
Over her,
Keeping the Shadows and
Nightmares away
As she healed.

And if you looked
Closely,
You would see
Tears running
Silently
Down his face…

Engaged

Need-love cries to God from our poverty; Gift-love longs to serve, or even to suffer for, God; Appreciative-love says: "We give thanks to thee for thy great glory." Need-love says of a woman "I cannot live without her"; Gift-love longs to give her happiness, comfort, protection--if possible, wealth; Appreciative love gazes and holds its breath and is silent, rejoices that such a wonder should exist even if not for him, will not be wholly dejected by losing her, would rather have it so than never to have seen her at all."

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.

I'm engaged!

Happy Thanksgiving

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone.

Be blessed!

Quotes

Essential is truth; nonessential is liberty—in all things charity.

During this dark night of the soul, we may have a sense of dryness, aloneness, even lostness. Any overdependence on the emotional life is stripped away. The notion, often heard today, that such experiences should be avoided and that we always should live in peace and comfort, joy and celebration only betrays the fact that much contemporary experience is surface slush. The dark night is one of the ways God brings us into a hush, a stillness so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. (James 1)

Trapped

Darkness, fear…
A cramped
Place.
Trapped, always
Walking but
Never moving.
Hands grasp,
Tear.
Pinning, hurting.
Darkness, trapped—
Fear.
How to get out?
Can you get out?
Struggles, tears,
Shame.
Hands, bodies
Pinned.
Fear, pain, struggles.
Trapped with
No way
Out.

Hidden Hell

Pain, hurt, sadness…
A wall getting torn
Down.
Stone by stone,
Hands rip away.
Light pouring in
Through the cracks
To reveal a scared
Little girl
Who just wants
To heal
And feel safe.
Light piercing
Darkness…
No where to hide
Anymore.

Through Hell

Dawn always comes,
Or so I’ve heard.
I’ve doubted it…
For when you’re in
The midst of
Darkness,
It’s hard to see
Dawn approaching.

It’s the hard thing,
About traveling through
Hell,
You lose track of
Where you’ve been
And where
The End begins.

You don’t quite see
Until you’ve woken
In the woods
Yet again,
And healing
Begins.

Pain doesn’t leave,
And the scars
Will never be gone.
Yet scars will
Fade,
And scars are better
Than open wounds.
Scars are a testimony
Of Healing and
Life.

Scars add to you,
Though…

Hidden—
They cause you to look
No older than a
Child.
Revealed—
To look as
If you’ve lived
Through more than
Anyone could in
A lifetime.

Traveling through hell
Will not let you
Leave unscarred.
And going through
Purgatory
Will not let you
Leave unchanged.
Healing does that…

Musings

I've been meditating on the book of Habakkuk. It's a really intriguing book, and I'll post more when I get the chance. For now, I'll just post a favourite part of it (3:17-19).

17Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
19GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.

It's good because it talks about trusting God no matter what, even if life seems unfair...or horrid, etc.

Life's been interesting lately. Work's a lot of fun, also interesting. It's a fun working environment and I've been learning a lot, including Spanish. I'm very joyful at the moment...which is awesome after everything.

New Poem

Here's a new one I wrote. Dedicated to Aaron.

The Harrowing of Beauty

I found you,
Curled up
And hurt.

My arms gently gather
You up,
Shielding you from
The world.

I examine the wounds
And pain,
Healing what I
Can.

My eyes darken
In fury
As I see more
And more wounds.

How could they do
This
To you?
So precious, so
Beautiful…
Yet they did this
To you…

I slowly begin to
Help you heal,
And slowly the wounds
Fade to scars.

Your eyes…
They did that to
Your eyes.
So very old
And guarded…
Not as they
Ought to be…

Beauty…they attacked
Beauty.
Beauty which ought
To be touched
Gently and
Carefully,
With permission.
Not grabbed,
Not taken
Forcefully,
But gently, carefully…
Caressing.

I wish I had been
There,
To stop them…

Your smile
And touch
Tell me not to
Worry,
And that I’m
Helping now.

Still…I wish
I could have
Stopped yet
Another
Attack on
Beauty…

New Poem

Dreams as Reality

Sleep but no rest,
Dreams but not peaceful.

I heard once that the worst
Thing that could happen
Is dreams becoming
Reality.

I didn’t believe it
At first,
But then my dreams
Began to become
More than just
Dreams.

I understand, now,
Why someone would
Say that.
Wishing for your dreams
To come true
Is all well and
Good,
Yet you can’t
Wish what dreams
Come true.

What do you do when
Dreams you wish
To stay just dreams
Don’t…
And the dreams you
Wish would come
True
Stay just dreams?

Life is a curious thing
And dreams curiouser.
What happens when the
Dreamworld resembles
Truth
More than actual
Reality?

If you ever find out
A good reason
For that fact,
Will you let me
Know?
I’d appreciate it…

For now, I’ll continue
Living
Where dreams are
Real
And Reality
Is dreamlike.

Beautiful Verse

I was recently looking through old entries in my journal, and found this verse written out. The date was back in March or April, during a hard time when I was having to rely on God. It spoke to my heart again, as I re-read it.

Hope it does the same for you.

Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come away,
for behold, the winter is past;
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
is heard in our land.

~Song of Solomon 2~

New Poem

Lament of A Flown Muse

The pen rests on the paper,
Waiting for words
To come.

The story awaits its
Final chapter,
The poem its
Final stanza.

The words have gone
As the Muse
Has flown.

The story, poem
Stuck—frozen in
Time
Without a Muse.

The pen rests on the paper,
Waiting for words
Which have flown
In search of
A Muse.

No voice from the
Paper,
No song from the
Pen.

They are silent,
Dead to this
World,
Hoping the Muse
Will be found
Again—
And give Life
To this
Pen and Paper
Once more.

Psalm 139

O LORD, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.

Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,"
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.

For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting!

Dragon Scales

To love is to be vulnerable...and that is especially true with God.

Dragon Scales

Curled up in a corner
Hiding from the world
…Or hiding from yourself?

Noise constantly beating
Down on your ears.
Keeps the Voices—lies—
Away.
If you can’t hear,
You don’t have to
Deal.

Scales…scars…
Dead skin.
Unable to heal
if not ripped
Off.

Too painful,
Hurts…
Pain scares you…
This intense.

Survival…can anyone
Survive that much?

You pull away more,
Hugging your knees,
Hoping no one
Notices.

Let me help.
You hear a
Still voice whisper,
I’m strong enough.

‘It hurts’, you whimper,
Trying to cover up,
‘Can’t it just go away
On its own?’

Not without my help.
Will you let me take your
Dragon scales?

You try on your own
First.
Your nails tearing,
Ripping...
To no avail.

Just another layer,
Thicker…deeper…stronger.

Crumpling…you
Weakly nod.
The pain is intense,
You open your mouth
To scream,
But no sound.

Pain with bursts
Of joy.
Healing mixed with
Hurt.
Dragon scales getting
Ripped away.

A naked vulnerable body
Revealed…
Healing pain
With joy.

Here's the first of two new poems i wrote. This one is about a time last semester. Captures the memory/feelings really well.

An amazing date in the midst of a horrible Season

Fingers linked, feet skipping,
Eyes glancing happily
About.

Lips brushing as
You walk together,
A dance, almost.

The bliss of forgetfulness
For a time
Only joy and
Love.

Refusing to let life
Ruin the night.
Purposefully pushing
Ugliness away;
Choosing to be
Carefree…
For a night.

An amazing date…
In the midst of a
Horrible season.

Verses

"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."

~Col. 3:12-17~

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. "

~1 Cor. 13:4-8, 13~

Sounds familiar, don't they? It's the beauty I discovered while reading Colossians...a lot of it is like Corinthians. Paul is amazing.

UTM.

Guard

Guard

The knife goes in and out,
Easily and systematically
Slicing open the same wound
Over and over.

“Give it a rest!”
You might cry,
“You’ve done enough damage
As it is.”

You might but no one
Will listen.
Oh, they will hear,
And chalk it
Up to complaining
And needing to
Toughen up.

“Aren’t you satisfied?”
You try again,
Unwilling to fight
Back…yet,
“Can’t you back off
For just a bit?”

The knife swiftly cuts
New wounds,
Showing no signs
Of ceasing.
You glance up,
Your eyes soft
But firm.

“No more,”
You state,
Wrenching the knife
Away,
“No more.”

You raise up
Your guard,
Your eyes sad.
“I tried…I tried.
But you wouldn’t
Listen.”

Faerie Stories and writing

It's such a beautiful day out, here in Berkeley. It's sunny with a breeze, perfect weather. Not too hot but not too cold either. I'm sitting on a wall outside, in the shade of a tree, with a stack of books on a chair to my right with coffee. Hehe. I'm such a writer...

Speaking of writing, we've been having some very interesting discussions about writing, Faerie Stories, and reading. Given all the great books I've read in the last few weeks, I've had a lot of interaction with different writing styles and opinions, especially considering the authors and also the household of people I'm with. It's been such a blessing to me that I can have so many different opinions and thoughts, especially being a writer.

"We do not enjoy a story fully at the first reading. Not till the curiosity, the sheer narrative lust, has been given its sop and laid asleep, are we at leisure to savour the real beauties. Till then, it is like wasting a great wine on a ravenous natural thirst which merely wants cold wetness. The children understand this well when they ask for the same story over and over again, and in all the same words."
~Lewis, On Stories~

"It is, of course, a good test for every reader of every kind of book. An unliterary man may be defined as one who reads books only once."
~Lewis, On Stories~

Both of those quotes surprised me and challenged me. I love Lewis! Hehe. He challenges me to go re-read books and write well. I think that's what most of these past few weeks have done. They've taught me a lot, and I've made so many good relationships. One of the main things though is to push me to be better in my writing, and strive to be a good writer.

Another thing I haven't noticed till now is how much I've grown. I'm completely at ease being myself around people...I don't worry about pleasing everyone, or trying to 'fit in'. I'm content in growing in God, through whatever means that is. I've noticed that through the comfortability of being myself and talking about things I, before, would never have talked about. I'm full of joy and Peace. It's an amazing thing.

Well...enough musings for now. I have need to read Tolkien.

Under the Mercy.

Some musings...

As I sit in the kitchen, waiting for my cookies to get out of the oven, I'm struck by how much I've learned up here in Berkeley over the last two weeks. It's hard to believe that two weeks have already passed, and that soon I'll be driving back down to Took Hall and starting work. (hopefully)

We've talked about so much, but I think my favourite discussions so far have been Magician's Nephew (with Lewis "On Stories) and Phantastes by George MacDonald. Yes, I'm partial to the Faerie Stories. Some really interesting talks on magic (good or bad), love, life, why read Faerie Stories, how we should view reality, death, and morality.

Today, we had an interesting discussion on a lot of stuff, but the two that stood out to me were 1. how Faerie Stories remind us we live in two worlds (physical and spiritual), and we need to interact/live as such, and 2. why death isn't a bad thing...or shouldn't be feared. It actually reminded me quite a bit of LOTR and Peter Pan, ironically enough. Just the idea of dying being an adventure, and definitely not the end. As Peter Pan put it so aptly, "To die would be an awefully big adventure". I think that sums up how MacDonald views death. More of just another step in the journey of our souls.


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 listens hopefully, as the sounds of the battle around them fade.)
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.

i think that sums it up quite nicely.

Another quote I found interesting was in Phantastes. He writes,

"Afterwards I learned, that the best way to manage some kinds of painful thoughts, is to dare them to do their worst, to let them lie and gnaw at your heart till they are tired, and you find you still have a residue of life they cannot kill."

This is an interesting thought for me, dealing with some painful thoughts/memories. I'm not sure if I agree with it, as of yet. It seems some memories could seriously hurt that residue of life...interesting either way.

So much for my rambling. I'll leave you with a few verses from Colossians which we've been reading everyday for the last two weeks.

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.

~Colossians 4:2-6~

Loving Sleep

Loving Sleep

Sleep uninterrupted and
Peaceful.
Nightmares kept at
Bay…

The woman rolls over,
Her mind at Rest,
Her eyes closed
Trusting, in
Sleep.

She sighs softly,
Her dream pleasant
For once.
She knows she is
Loved.

Sleep uninterrupted and
Peaceful.
Nightmares kept at
Bay…

Love with no condition.
Love for the person
Purely.
A freedom comes
With this
Knowledge,
A freedom and
A peace.

The woman continues to
Sleep.
Perfectly content
In the knowledge
That she is
Loved,
Purely and without
Condition.

She moves slightly,
A soft smile gracing
Her features.

Sleep uninterrupted
And peaceful.
Nightmares kept at
Bay
Because of
Love.

Faerie Tree

Faerie Tree

Leaves glow gold, blue;
The wind shakes the leaves,
The light bouncing off
As jewels.

The air bites, causing
Shivers
Of cold or awe,
No one knows.
Perhaps both…

Trees so high,
Blocking out
The sun,
Causing light
To sparkle off
The branches.

Trees glow
As if hinting at
Some ancient
Faerie castle
That once
Resided there.

One can almost see
Faeries flying from
Branch to branch,
Running errands
And beginning
Mischief.

A hint of a soft,
Ethereal song
Floating down on
The breeze.

An ancient kingdom,
Hidden in an ancient
Tree.
Mysteries of creation,
No one really knows…

Quotations from sessions so far...

thought you guys might be interested to see some of the fun and interesting quotes from session so far here at Berkeley.

Torrey is code-word for good reading.
~Dr. Sanders~

Existence is always better than non-existence.
~Peter~

Even for Jadis!
~Dr. S~

But not everyone around Jadis....
~Peter~

I can just picture Lewis telling Tolkien, "Yah, Middle Earth is your world. But your world is in one of the many pools of mine!"

I'm not rejecting happiness!
~Peter~


and a few more serious quotes:

Is happiness good or good happy?

Can you self-deceive yourself so much that you can't go back because you're dead to your soul?

"Innocence Lost"

Another new poem. Enjoy!

Innocence Lost

The little girl hides in the closet,
Her eyes wide
With fear.

Hurt, pain, fear…
She has no one to go to.
Is it her fault?

She pushed the fear and pain
Away.
If she can’t remember,
It won’t hurt her.

The little girl grew
And the memory
Faded
To only a dream,
A nightmare of a foolish
Child.

A memory biding its time…
Memories cannot be forgotten
Forever.

The woman wakes with
A cry,
Her eyes wide
With fear.

Questions, confusions, fear…
Could this have really
Happened?

The woman became skittish,
Claustrophobic,
Trying to think,
To deal.

She wished she could
Forget.
She wanted it to stay
Buried.

Memories cannot be forgotten
Forever.
No one can heal
If she can’t remember.

The woman sobbed steadily,
Her tears bearing witness
To her pain, sadness…
Shame.

A fragile woman…a little girl…
Grieving her
Innocence lost.

Happy Mother's Day!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

I love you.

UTM

Caught and Hidden Hell

These poems are meant to be read together. My friend James wrote "Caught" in response to "Drained", and then I wrote "Hidden Hell" in response to his. Hope they bless you.

UTM

Caught
(by James)

Even if you run
Eventually your feet hurt
So stay here
Learn to face your fears.

You won’t be alone
I swear we’re here
Just call our names
You know we’re near
You don’t have to say goodbye
So when asked how you are
Don’t you dare lie!
Your words can’t be so far
From the truth.

Nice try
But you can’t hide.
We won’t let you
Don’t lie
What is inside?
Just share what’s true.

Hidden Hell

Pain, hurt, sadness…
A wall getting torn
Down.
Stone by stone,
Hands rip away.
Light pouring in
Through the cracks
To reveal a scared
Little girl
Who just wants
To heal
And feel safe.
Light piercing
Darkness…
No where to hide
Anymore.

Drained.

Drained

So many people asking
How I am.
The urge to run,
To hide,
Becomes so very
Strong.

I've talked to those
I trust.
I'm tired, I'm drained.
Please, no one ask
Me anymore.
I don't want to
Explain everything
All over again.

Could I just curl
Up and sleep?
But no, I can't, for
That's when nightmares
Come.

An ironic occurrence...
I don't want to talk
And yet, if I don't,
The nightmares force me
To deal.

Forced to talk
Or not to sleep.
What am I supposed to do?

I'd rather the nightmares.
They're easier to
Deal with…

No, I can't though.
Friends won't let me.
I can't hide
Anymore.

Why does that scare me?
It shouldn't
But it does…

I just want to curl up
And hide
From it all.

I wish I had a
Safe Haven
To run to and
Let everything melt
Away…

Abba, I want You
To be that
Safe Haven,
But I don't know
How to
Trust anymore…

Help my distrust…
Help me to trust.

I want to know
Your Love.
Show me, Father…
Show me
Your Love.

'Doppelganger'

Doppelganger

I fell asleep and soon
Found myself walking
Down a path through
A forest.
It got darker
And more oppressive
As did the air.

I stumbled, trying to breathe
As hideous faces
Began appearing.
They were taunting
Someone ahead
Of me, whom
I couldn’t see.

The feeling of hatred
And anger
Grew as we kept
Walking down the path.
Voices snarled curses
At me, trying to make
Me leave.

I neared an entrance
To a cave.
A black dog, not unlike Cerberus,
Addressed the person in front
Of me.
And they entered the cave.

I followed quietly, passing
Doors upon doors,
Hearing moans, screams
And curses
Flowing from them.

I felt severe hatred
Directed at me,
Claws reaching towards
Me without touching.
The dog snarled angrily
As I stopped by
The door.
“Stay out!” the dog growled,
Rising up.

Go in…
I heard my Master’s gentle whisper.
I put my hand on the knob,
Staring straight at the dog.
He backed down,
Snarling in fury.
The door swung open.
I froze, my blood going
Cold at the scene in the room.

I saw myself in the room
With two others.
One disappeared within a
Second,
Leaving me with
…myself…?

Our eyes met and
I recoiled in horror
At the pure delight
In evil gleaming
Forth from her eyes.
Death shone the
Brightest, fire flickering,
Her soul gone.

I saw in her everything
That was tempting:
Beauty, power, love…

Ugly, repulsive, unnatural.
The words echoed in my mind.

“Doppelganger!”
The name flew off my lips,
“God save me…
I will not lose my soul.”

“You should.”
I heard my own voice saying,
“It’s not painful, and it feels
Wonderful.
You’ll always know you’re alive.
You’ll have pleasure, and
People will love you.”

She moved closer to me,
A gleam of pure delight in evil
In her eyes,
“It’s worth it. You won’t be truly
Alive unless you become me.”

“You’re dead.” I said quietly,
My eyes narrowing,
“You have no happiness.
It’s not painful
Because you don’t
Feel anymore.”

My eyes darted from her to the man,
Who roughly and possessively
Ran his hand down her arm,
His eyes meeting mine with a
Look of pure lust for me.
My doppelganger wasn’t enough…
He wanted me.

“You’re a vampire.
You have no soul,”
I backed towards the door,
“Why would I ever consider
Becoming you?”
My eyes snapped angrily,
“I know what truly living
Is.
Why would I give that up
To live a Life of
Death?”

The man shoved the doppelganger
Away, lunging at me,
His eyes full of hatred and
Anger.
“You!” his voice full of fury,
“You belong to me!”

“No, I don’t!” I shouted back, pointing at
My doppelganger, “She does.
But she is not me!
I won’t accept your offer.
I will not become her.”

I woke with a gasp,
Sweating and trembling.
I sat up, running a hand
Through my hair.
“God, give me strength,”
I whispered,
“God, help me.”

Thoughts on a rainy day...

As I woke up this morning to the blaring of my alarm, I was struck with the fact that 1. I hadn't gotten enough done the previous night, and 2. I really wanted to roll over and stay all curled underneath my wonderful quilt. Unfortunately, I was not able to do that. So I resigned myself to the fact that I had to get up and go to English class. I got all ready, glanced out my window and saw it was cloudy and windy. I grabbed a sweater, thinking it was just going to be cold, and ran down the stairs. I discovered once I got outside that it was raining quite hard. It made the five-eight minute walk to my class rather entertaining and fun. Reminded me quite a lot of a trip to Disneyland a couple years ago, where it was pouring down rain off and on. As I walked to class, I glanced about, watching other people walk by me. Most walked with their hoods up, head down, hands shoved into their pockets, and their steps tired. It made me realize that that's the way a lot of us go through life when we have rain and storms. To bundle up, face the wind, and just get through it, looking for the nearest shelter. While wanting shelter is not bad, people sometimes put too much stock in finding shelter instead of learning from the storm.

Today is a beautiful day. The rain is amazing and everything looks and feels so clean and fresh. It makes me want to go dance barefoot in the rain. I think that's the difference...it doesn't matter what you're going through...if you're focused where you are supposed to be focused, then it won't matter what life throws at you. It's the wonderful thing about being a Christian. You have a Hope and a Joy that comes from something greater than you or this life. It doesn't matter if it's storming out or sunny...whatever is going on doesn't change the fact that your Joy, your Hope is found in Christ.

So go dance in the rain, Christian, because God is good.

A society that puts equality before freedom will get neither. A society that puts freedom before equality will get a high degree of both.

-Milton Friedman-

"War is a dreadful thing, and I can respect an honest pacifist, though I think he is entirely mistaken. What I cannot understand is this sort of semi-pacifism you get nowadays which gives people the idea that though you have to fight, you ought to do it with a long face and as if you were ashamed of it." -C.S. Lewis-

keep my brother and sister-in-law in prayer.

Eyes

New poem I wrote over the last week. Some musings on stuff I've been thinking about and conversations I've had. Dedicated to anyone who's felt this way before or seen their friends' eyes look like this. Rather a different format than what I usually do. Feedback would be nice.

Eyes

Your eyes scare me…
So numb, so deathlike.
Show something in them!
Anger, hate, sadness,
Show something…
Anything.

Ah, now your eyes flicker.
Good.
Show something.
You’ll climb the heights
Again.
You will and they’ll be
Pure bliss.

Your eyes give
You away.
You don’t believe me.
You’re slowly dying
And see no hope.
But the depths are never
That deep.
There is always
A light, of some sort,
At the end.
Do not give up
Hope…

You don’t believe me,
Your eyes give
You away.
Your eyes scare me…
So numb, so deathlike.
You know this is
Happening.
You don’t know
What to do.
And so you
Fall back,
You let it.

Your eyes scare me…
So very numb…

These are some song lyrics that I've always really liked that I thought I'd share with you. And also a couple new poems, but I'm not going to tell you which are which. Hehe. Enjoy!

February Song

Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
Til he opens his eyes, opens his eyes
Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life, into this life

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I've known is lost and found
I promise you I, I'll come back to you one day

Morning is waking up
And sometimes it's more than just enough
When all that you need to love
Is in front of your eyes
It's in front of your eyes

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
Sometimes it's hard to find the ground
Cause I keep on falling as I try to get away
From this crazy world

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I've known is lost and found
I promise you I, I'll come back to you one day

Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
Til he opens his eyes
Opens his eyes

Numb

Pain, hurt, sadness.
Life is strong,
Too strong
Sometimes.
Heights with depths,
But depths so deep
That you aren’t sure
You’ll survive?

Mistakes, regrets, shame…
None of these.
Pain, sadness, yes.

Heart getting ripped
In two,
Having to make
A choice.

Love—is it worth
The Risk?
Yo sabo pero
No conozco.
I know but
I don’t know…
Anymore.

Numbness is all
There is.
Numbness and tears.

Love—is it worth
The Risk?
Yo sabo pero
No conozco.
I know but
I don’t know...
Anymore.

Pain, numbness.
Life is strong,
Too
Sometimes.

Un Dia Llegara

Las hojas secas caerán y cuando llegue abril,
Mi alma tocaras, me acercarás, vendrás por mí.
Después de tanta soledad, yo volveré a sentir.
Encontraré mi paz en ti.

Cuando se duerma la ciudad, y se despida el sol.
Te buscare otra vez, hasta alcanzar esta ilusión.
Te encontraré y me amaras así.
Y escucharé del silencio la voz del corazón,
Y la tormenta se calmara en tus brazos.
Vale la pena esperar por tu amor porque un día llegará.

Te encontraré y me amarás así.
Y escucharé del silencio la voz del corazón,
Y la tormenta se calmara en tus brazos.
Vale la pena esperar por tu amor el mañana.
Te abrazaré en el silencio,
Toda la vida esperé por tu amor.
Si ese día llega, se que vendrás a mí.

Update on life, again.

Fear not.

Amazing phrase. God has been teaching me quite a bit since I last posted. The good thing is that I think I can put it into words now. Or at least attempt to. At the end of this post, I'm going to repost an older poem of mine. "Older". I wrote it last semester, but honestly didn't know how much it would actually mirror experiences currently going on in my life. The main thing God has been showing me is that life is beautiful, even if that means that the only thing that is beautiful is the Promise of Christ. And yes, I realize I'm repeating myself a bit. It's taken several weeks of God showing this to me through several friends/mentors over and over to finally sink in. Life is beautiful. I think that might be what Tolkien was illustrating with the Elves in LOTR. The idea that here is this race which are immortal. In effect, there are no innocent Elves. Yet, they are still joyful and can laugh truly. I didn't realize it at first till I re-read it, and I realized that that is how we, as Christians, should be. We are not innocent, but we need to be joyful in life. Carpe Diem. Yes, life has bad things in it. Life can completely suck at times. Yet, in the midst of all that, God still blesses us...if we allow Him the chance to, and to show us that life is beautiful.

What is amazing is that if we allow God to show us that, we enter into a period of Rest. That time of peace beyond understanding because it doesn't matter what is going on in the world and your life--God is good, and life is beautiful.

Look up. Love is in the stars.

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don't give up."

Claustrophobia

Her fingers slip as she falls back into
The casket.
Her eyes well with tears,
Feeling the darkness surrounding her.
She knows the mask is slipping down
Again.

"No," the girl whispers, struggling to get out
But failing.
The tears roll down her cheeks
Her hands pressing up against the lid
But could not stop it from closing.

The girl pressed wearily,
Her eyes filled with despair
As little by little, the light
Gets shut out.

"Help me," she begs, unsure to who
The cry was directed at.
Suddenly two hands grasped the lid,
And yanked it open,
The light streaming in
And blinding her eyes.

The girl looked up, her eyes widening
In surprise, wincing.
A hand reached down, waiting.
"Grab it," he ordered gently,
His eyes searching hers.

The girl began to look away
But her eyes snapped back to his
When he said, "Don't look away!"

She looked at him in surprise.
"Don't hide from me," he urged her,
Reaching down, his fingers brushing hers,
"I can't pull you out if you don't
Want to get out."
His eyes locked on hers, pleading with her.

The girl crouched there,
Struggling inside,
Wondering if it was safer to
Come out or stay safe within
The mask and casket.

"Don't hide. Let me in,"
He begged, his eyes full of pain
—pain for her—
"It's not worth it,
Living behind a mask,
Without Trust or Love."

His eyes filled with tears for her,
His face saddened,
"You can't live without
Love."

The girl closed her eyes,
Knowing he was right
She took a deep breath
And grasped his hand
In a vice-like grip.

Suddenly the girl was out of
The casket, collapsing into his arms.
She began sobbing,
The feeling of pain and weariness
Lifting off her shoulders.

The Man enveloped her in his arms,
His hand gently stroking her hair.
"You can't live without Love."
He whispered softly,
"It's a slow death, if you try.
Don't try.
Love is a beautiful
And marvelous Gift.
Do not let anyone take that away."

It's a rather...interesting point in my life right now. Some things have caused me to become rather...sober and more subdued than i usually am. I've had friends describe as my eyes are missing their "sparkle" from last semester, and it's very true. There's a reason for that. I'm not as happy as i was last semester, mainly because i always have the weight of my brother in the back of my mind, praying for him constantly. That adds a seriousness to my life...and i've been trying to figure out how to balance and live with that. I've talked to several friends (and mentors) about it. All of them have said, in one form or another, "It's ok to be a bit more serious and sober. It's a part of life." Then one of them pointed out that i need to keep my feet grounded in the Rock, to believe Christ's promise, and to remember life is beautiful. Easier said than done, but I'm going to do so.

That was the inspiration for this new poem, actually. that idea at least, which wasn't fully formulated in my mind but there. I hope you enjoy it, and i hope it helps bring a light to what i've barely touched in the first part of this blog. The title is from Dead Poet's Society when Keating is telling the boys to make their lives extraordinary. I hope you enjoy.

Quiet Desperation

Eyes that once
Sparkled easily,
Now cannot seem
To shed the
Constant sheen
Of tears.

A smile, once quick
And laughing,
Now slower to come
And has the weight
Of sorrow
Always on its outskirts.

A step, once carefree
And full of dance,
Now reflects a
Weariness unnatural.

A life, once alive
And vibrant,
Now contains a
Quiet desperation
To truly live.

And then one of my favourite quotes of all time that i need to keep in mind a bit more than i actually do.

During this dark night of the soul, we may have a sense of dryness, aloneness, even lostness. Any overdependence on the emotional life is stripped away. The notion, often heard today, that such experiences should be avoided and that we always should live in peace and comfort, joy and celebration only betrays the fact that much contemporary experience is surface slush. The dark night is one of the ways God brings us into a hush, a stillness so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.

Go with God, and go under the Mercy.

The nature of prayer

The sermon on Sunday caused me to start thinking and reevaluate how I pray, also why I pray the way I do. It was something that kept me musing over it in the back of my head at odd times. Then it finally hit today when I was doing my devotion. I usually read My Utmost for His Highest (wonderful devotional!) and then either the Scripture in that, or a chapter in Romans or 1 Corinthians.

In today’s devotional, it talked about how important it is to be in tune with the nature of God and able to hear His call, and not your own nature:

“The call of God is not a reflection of my nature; my personal desires and temperament are of no consideration. As long as I dwell on my own qualities and traits and think about what I am suited for, I will never hear the call of God. The majority of us cannot hear anything but ourselves. And we cannot hear anything God says. But to be brought to the place where we can hear the call of God is to be profoundly changed.” (http://www.rbc.org/utmost/index.php)

I began wondering and musing if I was in tune with God to hear His call, and not listen to my own nature. Throughout the morning, I was praying silently, “Lord, show me if I’m in tune with You. If I can hear Your call, and not listen to my own nature.” Then everything came together. That feeling of a light-bulb suddenly going off? Something like that, although it felt more like lightening suddenly hit me.

In order to pray well, you have to be able to hear the call of God. Yes, I know. ‘No duh’ right? Right and wrong at the same time. Prayer is bold and daring, shameless and persistent—and in order to gain this, you need total desperation, total surrender and death to self. It also hit me that in order to be able to pray in this way, this total desperation—do or do not—one has to be able to hear the call of God. However, I was still wondering how on earth you can obtain this. It made me go searching for answers, and the best thing I thought was to read over again what my pastor had taught over (Luke 11:1-13). In verse 13, I found something.

“If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13)

It struck me that perhaps the reason God gives the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him is because the Holy Spirit enables us to pray with this total desperation. I went to a passage I knew talked about that. Romans 8:26-28. What it states pointed to the conclusion I was coming to on my own. That one of the reasons God gives us the Holy Spirit is to enable us to pray “Thy Will be done” in the truest sense, because if one is in tune with the call of God, one can honestly pray and mean it.

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” ~Romans 8:26-28~

Just some things God has been bringing to my attention. Also makes me wonder if that’s how Jabez could pray what he did, because he knew the call of God and was able to pray within that.

Jabez called upon the God of Israel, saying, "Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!" And God granted what he asked.

~1 Chronicles 4:10

Do or do not.

Yes, yes, another poem, i know. It's just that God has been teaching me a lot over the last few weeks, or perhaps more like everything is sinking in from the past semester--more like full year, but especially the past semester. God's been teaching me a lot about trust, love, and how to live for Him. It's been an amazing journey so far, with it's own heights with the depths. i guess that's what has stood out. that you have to risk the depths in order to get the heights. because the blessings that come with the heights are worth the depths.

Trust is such a fragile
Thing.
Hard to gain but
Easy to break.
Yet without trust,
No one can live.
And therein lies
The rub.

Once broken one is
Faced with a choice:
To trust again.
Or to hide
And guard in fear.
And therein lies
The rub:
Is the risk great enough
And important enough
To take?

A hard choice
But a necessary one.
Afterall, how can one
Truly Live
If one cannot trust
Those around him?
And therein lies
The rub.

So...i had another inspiration for a poem. and this one i know God brought to mind. it basically began as this picture of a dance and grew from there. enjoy!

The Dance

Music spilled softly through
The double doors.
The girl got glimpses
Of the dancers
As she slowly strode up.
Taking a breath, straightening
One last thing,
She climbed up the stairs.

The man at the door bowed,
And opened it,
Motioning her inside with
A gentle hand.
She walked into the Room,
Glancing about tentatively,
And took an open seat.

The girl watched the dancers,
Admiring the ones
Who seemed to dance effortlessly,
Laughing and talking.
Her eyes narrowed curiously
As she noticed
Dancers who seemed to be
New and unsure.
Others appeared to have
Been dancing together
But not as long as
The firsts she had seen.

The girl gazed down towards
The other end
Of the Room,
And wondered why
She could not see
The way out.

Suddenly, a voice clearing its
Throat nervously
Caused her to look up.
A young man gazed at her,
Holding out his hand
Hopefully.

She studied him for a
Few moments,
Before smiling, and shyly
Took his hand.

The young man drew her out
To the dance floor.
He began to lead her,
And she knew.
They bumped into each other,
Stumbling a bit
As the boy could not
Make up his mind
Where to go.

The song seemed to end,
Though the music continued.
He looked at her and then led
Her back to the chair
She had had before.
And silently, he bowed
Walking away.

The girl sighed, taking
Her seat.
Her dress had changed
During the dance,
And now she appeared
A bit older
Than when she had first
Come in.

The man came up to her,
A sure grin on his face.
The girl smiled, taking his hand,
And was pulled into the dance.
He led demandingly,
Pushing her along the floor,
Too fast and too soon.
The song finished swiftly,
And she firmly pulled away,
Her eyes flashing angrily.
He held up his hands,
Backing away,
And off to find a
New partner.

Weary physically and emotionally,
She sank into a chair,
Near the front door
But a bit further down.

She saw him coming
Towards her.
She had noticed him
Watching her dance.

Sighing, the woman almost
Turned him down,
But she looked into his eyes
And something whispered
To take his hand, to
Try once more.

His arms held her shyly
But firmly
As he led her around
The floor.
She found it easy to
Follow him.
He skillfully led her,
Gently pushing when needed
But also as a request,
Knowing she could refuse.

Suddenly, their song had stopped,
And both stood,
Gazing at each other,
Almost bewilderedly.

Where had the time gone?

The man released her but
Both walked to the
Refreshments, getting a drink.
A new song began to play,
And he looked at her,
His eyes questioning.
The woman smiled at him,
Nodding.
The man comfortably
Took her hand,
And they danced.

Song after song, the music
Never fading,
Moving down the floor.
The woman did not notice
As they kept changing,
Growing older and more relaxed.

As the dance progressed,
She realized
They were moving unwittingly
Down the floor,
Further from the front
And towards the other end
Of the Room.
The further they got, the more
Comfortable they became,
Until they were dancing
With no effort
And simply concentrating on
Each other,
Laughing, talking,
With no worry
Of a new step.

The man paused, the woman glancing
Up at him curiously
And then to where
He stared.

The double-doors were thrown open,
Leading outside.
Out of it danced,
Strode couples,
Dressed in an array
Of wedding dresses
And tuxedoes,
Bright simple Rings
Glittering on each
Of their fingers.

The man looked down
At her,
His arms tightening
About her.
He leaned down and
Whispered into her ear,
Soft words only she heard.
Then, he let her go.

The woman’s eyes went from
The doors to him,
Back to the doors,
And finally rested on him.
The man had taken a
Step away,
Waiting, his eyes fixed on her.

The woman smiled shyly
At him,
Reaching out a hand
Of invitation.
The man grasped it,
Drawing her close to him.
A new song began to play,
One only they could
Hear.
Together, they began
To dance
In a way they had not
Before.
They moved to the door,
Effortlessly going through it,
Rings gently encircling
Their fingers
As they danced to
Their Song.

Namárië, Valimar!

i've been reading Tolkien again, and this poem came to mind. actually, this picture in my head and i turned it into a poem. these are the lines that inspired it: "mortality is not explained mythically: it is a mystery of God of which no more is known than that 'what God has purposed for Men is hidden': a grief and an envy to the immortal Elves." (The Silmarillion, preface)

Namárië, Valimar!

She walks silently through the glade,
Her barefeet seemingly to float above the ground.
Her long hair drifts in the soft breeze
While her dress flows about her.
Her hands gently—lovingly—touch the flowers,
Seeming to caress the trees.

She stops at a small white flower
Struggling to raise its bloom.
Her eyes fill with a sadness,
An unspeakable sadness,
Telling of ages long ago.
And suddenly, her young age
Is replaced with a timelessness.

She reaches out a hand,
Whispers a few soft words
And straightens.
She looks up,
And one can see the haunting
In her pale-blue eyes,
A longing for something
She will never reach.

She leans upon the trunk
Of a startlingly beautiful tree.
Tears flow down her cheeks,
Unbidden but unchecked.

She looks about the glade,
And one fancies she sees
More than just flowers and trees.

Softly she whispers,
"Ai, Valimar,
í vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!
Nai elyë hiruva.
Namárië!"

A swift glance, a soft word
Are all the notice one has
Before she slips into the shadows,
Seeming to melt away.

Translation: Ah, Valimar, now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it, farewell!