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!

Vulnerability

I don't know what it is about this year, but God has really been teaching me to trust those around me and to not hang on to things....or keep them inside. But man, it really feels like it's just been one thing after another. I wonder if that means i didn't learn the first time He tried to teach me, or that I just haven't been letting go and thought i was. I honestly don't know. However...fact remains He has been doing a work in my heart just this past semester. He's blessed me in ways I never dreamed of by bringing amazing friends into my life (and a few very special ones), threw me in the midst of an awesome melting pot of brilliant people on-fire for Christ who are interested and eager for you to grow in Christ among other things that i can't describe very well. Like, I'm not sure how to describe exactly what God has been teaching me. Lewis says, "Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art...It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival." That is something God has been revealing to me. You can't survive on your own...even if you're trusting God, it's not possible. You need others to help you heal from wounds and to simultaneously bless you. It's one of those things I 'know' but don't really know. my friend describes it as tu sabes pero tu no conoces. you know it in your head but you don't know it in your heart. so true. it feels like your heart knows things too fast and your head doesn't come fast enough, and then other times...your head accepts things and your heart takes forever to catch up. Lewis also states, "Friendship [will have] naked personalities." For me, that has been the hardest thing to learn. I've had some pretty hard things happen to me, causing me to shrink back into a mask and shell, not wanting to trust anyone with what i was feeling. Thank God for friends who saw through it and pressed me to open up. They pretty much pursued when I wanted to hide and would not let me get away without talking about it. Just through this first semester, I've grown so much that i can hardly believe it. At times, i felt like no one noticed--then I'd get a call right when i needed it. Others, i knew people knew something was going on. I still cannot understand why God has blessed me in the way He has. Yet, He sees fit to bring more blessings into my life even as new hard things come up. I am definitely being taught how to love, in the truest sense of the word, and how to trust.

Lewis states it best when he says:

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.