Archive for the 'real' Category

all i have to give

There are times that I could seriously contemplate leaving this school and be satisfied in never hearing from anyone here again (save a few people). It’s a rather sad and sobering thought for how cold I can be sometimes and how little I can actually care about the other people here when push comes to shove… am I more bitter? More jaded? More tuned into this reality that these seasons of life are so fleeting and things simply change…?

 

I am reminded of the LORD’s promise that He has removed this heart of stone and given me a heart for flesh, but its times like these that I’m really reminded, I am sin, sinner, unworthy, undeserving of any love or grace. In an email to my small group today I shared a passage in Romans where Paul reminds us that even as sinners! while we were sinners He came… He died… He redeemed. While my heart is calloused and bruised and cold He has come to make me whole to bring more Glory to him.

 

how many times have i gone astray?
the number’s the same as the stars in the sky…

every time You’ve taken me back
and now i pray You’ll do it once more 

please take away my life
when i don’t have the strength
to give it away to You 

one week

One week ago, it was still.
There are a million and one things I should be taking care of right now. Studying for tonight’s exam. Doing my quantum problem set. Taking care of the document for my project team. This and this and all of these urgents that really aren’t important in the long run. Packing for Ivy League Congress…. maybe a little more important.

This was how it was before CUP, I remember. A heart confused and tattered, mostly through masochism. Windstruck and thoughts of what could have been and what was lost and what I didn’t have. Into the next day with my mask pulled on, only to see Daddy cares about my fragile heart more than what VBS I could do.

What is to come? What does the future bring? I stare into May and June and July and 2009 hesitantly. God on my side? Always,… is that enough for you? Am i enough for You?


My flesh and heart may fail,…. yet I still try to do it on my own.
Dad,… please give me the strength to see the light of tomorrow.

to write love

three+ years ago, you told me about the scars on your arms. the results of nights of despair, of hopelessness,… nights where the dawn seemed too far away.

since then, i’ve seen the evidence on others. the prom queen whom everyone thinks ‘has it all.’ the cool photography major who always seems to wear long sleeves,… even in the summer. it’s seen that 20% of all teens will suffer from depression at some time before they reach adulthood.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she’s known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don’t get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won’t solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we’re called home.

– excerpt from to write love on her arms.

…this is rescue
go and do likewise.

silence

Concert tickets.

The last two times I had concert tickets to anything, (excluding the Hillsong online ones) they have only resulted in frustration, drama, tears, and meaningless conclusion.

 //

sigh,…

 

in a week where i just really need you jesus, i’m having an awfully hard time seeing your light…

 

 

take
take till there’s nothing

nothing to turn to
nothing when you get through
won’t you break
scattered pieces of all I’ve been
bowing to all I’ve been running to

.

.

where are You?

nothing left to lose

i just realized that my away message // recovering from tijuana…\\ might offend a lot of people. or, perhaps more accurately, a lot of christians.

i have this nagging feeling that by the time i get back from my shower, i will get at least one IM with the, “you went to tijuana?!” thing working its way up. and while that might be just the surprise of the friend/acquaintance who decided to chat with me, part of me knows that even a couple of years ago, i would be the one quick to judge.

the first intern i shared my testimony/faith with was on this tijuana trip. we talked about drinking, and why we people drink socially when everyone else was getting hammered at night in mexican clubs. we talked about christian politics and really, what is the difference between a pastor and minister (and why does it matter?) we talked about shamu the killer whale and why el segundo boeing was better than seal beach boeing. we talked about the injustice of how the cultures in tijuana and san diego were so different, yet separated by a few miles of borders. we talked about privilege.. and what it means to live like we do in socal.

and part of me wonders if we’d ever get to talk about that without this tijuana trip. so nah… i don’t regret going.

Something’s in the air tonight
The sky’s alive with a burning light
You can mark my words something’s about to break

ouch

i think i really, really need to be more careful about what i say and the way i say things. i tend to let my mouth and tongue run wild — i usually make snide remarks, coarse comments, mutter under my breath, roll my eyes… and, (though some have been relentlessly gracious about it) it’s starting to take its toll.

 maybe there’s a line between being honest and being hurtful. maybe there’s a line between being vulnerable and being offensive. i wrote a while back about honesty having a speed limit;… i feel like i’m about to topple over a cliff of self destructive comments.

and maybe it’s not about controlling what i say. or how i say it. maybe it’s simply being more with the Father who always knows what to say and when to say them…

… perhaps i should practice being silent for a while.
// you know, sometimes i’m scared that if i do change, people will still judge me for who i was. maybe that’s a fear that’ll never really go away.

to write love

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she’s known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don’t get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won’t solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we’re called home.

// from to write love on her arms.

something i was reading/thinking about while sitting in olin doing waves homework today.