She's raising hell to give to me...

Thoughts for the day:
*Living in Chicago is hard. I don't want to hear about a sixteen year old honor student beaten to death with railroad ties and then having his head stomped in... by other kids. I almost wept today reading about it in the Redeye. Life is so senseless sometimes. I don't want to walk past the McDonalds where homeless men and women beg for food. I am sitting on a couch in a cozy dorm room with my laptop in my hands without ever having to worry about where my next meal is going to come from.
*I am listening to Pandora while reading Romans and studying about Anabaptists. Right before I got off Facebook to do my homework Andrew popped up to say how much he loves me. Pandora just played 'our song', "Look After You" by the Fray. As always, it hurts. Its strange. I feel like I am moving on, but then I think about all of the memories, the time invested in each other... I remember the time in our relationship when we went to see the Fray in concert. It was in the beginning of our romance... It was good. It is gone. Matt asked me how things between Andrew and I were. I wanted to deck him in the face. I don't know how he is doing. I freaking dumped him. I'm sure he is doing great. Just like me. We're done. I am not sure how much more final I can make it...
*"We too might walk in the newness of life." Christ died. In His death, I died as well. He died so that I may die to sin and have newness of life. He died and conquered death so that He may never die again. So that I may die and live. A beautiful paradox. He freed me from sin's grasp so that I may be enslaved to Christ and righteousness. Christ didn't die so that I could live for myself. "For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law, but under grace." I am not only standing in grace, but under grace as well. "What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?" I have to be renewed. How can I be renewed? By being captivated by the Word of God, by being captivated by Christ. It isn't easy. But the result is worthwhile. The depth to my love of Christ will only increase...
*8 days until Andrew McMahon. Enough said.

A Boxcar on the Beach

Overwhelmed with homework and life, I finally did the most rational thing that I could do. I ran to Christ. He met me and blessed me. O, how beautiful to know Him.
Life is hard for me. It is hard for everyone, I know. But tonight I was feeling the heat. As usual, it was my inadequacies, my failures, my lack of control over my emotions. It was confusion and bewilderment. It was a few tears. I am not 'emo'. I am broken.
I spent an hour in Romans 5. I am now secure in my failures. Because I am standing in grace. I could be doing much better this semester. I could have been doing much better in prayer and quiet times. I could swear a little less. The list goes on and on.
Do not misunderstand. I am not complacent in my failures. But I am transitioning from an unhealthy bitter disappointment in myself to a better and more beautiful understanding of costly grace.
Where death reigned, grace reigns. I am standing in grace. I have the love of God poured out in myself through the Holy Spirit. I have joy in suffering because its for my betterment. I have peace because Christ kicked death's ass.
I desire to spend time with God because I love Him, not because I think it gains me any more grace. I pursue Christ because I want to be transformed to be more like Him, because I need Him, because He is life.
I want to love Christ with an undying love. By His grace, secured on the cross, I can love Him with an undying love.
Praise God.
Praise Him for eternity.
By grace I can and will.

I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad...

I just unceremoniously cut off the bracelet Arni made for me who knows how long ago. I can't believe that I can logically and correctly say 'who knows how long ago'. Today would have been our three year anniversary. If the pain of that realization doesn't suck, I don't know what does. This morning at breakfast, I sat with the guy who is now Insung's new roommate. "The replacement", I called him. Blow by blow, I realized just how finished things are. And how unresolved my heart is.
I didn't cut the bracelet off out of spite. I cut it off because it rubs up against my fresh tattoo. My freshly needled skin. It was kind of hurting. I probably never would have cut it off otherwise.
Last night, I shared the story of Arni and I with a girl on the floor. I got emotional... When is it going to stop hurting? Will I ever look back on this time of my life with anything other than a frown, a flinch, a tear? Sometimes I doubt it.
We talked tonight. Arni and I. Just on Facebook chat. He asked if I still loved him. I do. But it isn't the same. It won't ever be the same again. Somehow, I've learned to live without him. Its probably a good thing. I can go to Europe now. I can have my tattoo without wondering what his parents will say. But I still miss him. I miss his hugs. No one hugs me like he does. Like he did. Gosh this hurts...

Today Pastor Nathan gave such a wonderful sermon on loving Jesus. He spoke of Heaven with such longing that it almost brought me to tears. He spoke of a passionate love for Jesus that I want. Jesus is more than a chore. He isn't something to check off of a to-do list. We are to love Him with an undying love. A love that death heightens. I want to love my Jesus that way. Pastor Nathan reminded us not to get so caught up in trying to feel this love, but to simply focus on Jesus. Maybe hours spent in prayer with Him won't be such a burden. I can long for my time with Him for what it should be. Something as sweet as honey. It takes time. But I want God. I do. I just wish I didn't have to fight so much for it. Maybe having to fight for it will make it all the more precious. I do wish it were easier though.
After the sermon, Pastor Nathan gave us an invitation to pray with our friends. Another part of his sermon had been on the importance of best friends. I was so thankful for the reminder of how dear my best friends are to me. Jacquelyn and Christie, Ruth and Deanna, girls that pour into my life every day and make life all the sweeter. Sasha, who even despite the distance and the craziness in life finds time to have late night chats on Facebook... I am so incredibly blessed by the friends I have. I am blessed by great brothers who encourage me in my faith as well, guys like Zack, and David, and Sam.
So after the sermon, Jacquelyn, Christie, Amy and I all went into the stairwell to pray. It was an incredible time of prayer... the small church congregation singing of the goodness of God. I hope I never forget what it was like to be huddled in that stairway with the beautiful sound of worship behind my sisters and myself.
After church, Jacquelyn, Christie and I joined John, Tony, Abby, Katie, Ruth and several others for lunch at Des Pasadas. Being around John will always be hard for me after what happened this summer. I feel embarrassed and awkward around him, even though I shouldn't be... I don't know how to escape those feelings. And every time I see John, I think of Adam. And my skin crawls. But lunch wasn't so bad. John is nice enough.
Then came the highlight of the day--the tattoo. The whole process was over in about fifteen minutes. That includes paperwork, and two tattoos. It didn't hurt too bad. I am actually excited to get a second, and possibly even third one... It says proskuneo. Pros "towards" and kuneo "kiss". Literally to blow a kiss. Translated in Scripture as worship, prostration, or bowing in submission. I love it. It is on my forearm for all the world to see. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Dreams Deferred

When writing a story, you write the character first.
[Enter Sanyelle]

I was born and raised in a small town in central Indiana. I was born in January. I hate the winter... I have always resented that I could never have a pool party for my birthday, or any other fun outdoor activity for that matter. My idea of fun has never consisted of freezing... When I say small town, it could be smaller. We have a Wal-Mart, a bowling alley, and a movie theater. Most kids smoke pot. My elementary school was in the middle of nowhere, in a small area called Garfield. Cornfields on almost every side. It looked identical to the other two elementary schools in our district. My favorite teacher was Mrs. Markland. Without her influence in my life, I would have turned out significantly different. I would have never owned Sonny. That in itself would have changed who I was in Middle School, what I would be dreaming to do after college, and what the picture on this blog would look like.
I had a good childhood. I was happy, well looked after. I was able to take riding lessons and dance lessons. I spent almost every Friday night with my grandparents. I was privy to root beer snow cones in the summer, and staying up later than I would at home. Monday nights meant dad fixing supper and playing hide and seek in the dark. I learned No Doubt and Alanis Morisette from those Monday nights.
I loved dancing. I quit though, and I regret it.
I rode western, and the first pony that I ever got to show was Tina. We were tight. The pictures from that show include a blue cast. I broke bones, frequently, as a child.
I used to just listen to country music. Then I went to Twin Lakes Camp and heard Switchfoot. Life hasn't been the same since. I still know every word to a lot of country songs. But now I know almost every word to any Andrew McMahon song.
I am afraid of rejection. Liking unrequitedly takes a toll on a young girl quickly. I like someone even now who will never like me back.
I'm a pessimist. I wish I wasn't. Life has been kind of dim lately. I am not good at setting boundaries. If I do set them, I break them. I am predisposed to self loathing. I am afraid of being vulnerable with anyone again like I was with Andrew, because it feels wasted. I am undisciplined and lazy. I swear sometimes.
On the other hand, I am passionate. I'm a strong person. I have dreams for myself, and I will try to see them fulfilled. I am spontaneous and love adventure, to an extent. I am a reader and writer and value intelligence. I can stop caring about what other people think when I need to.

I hate mornings. I think I always have. Let me clarify. I hate waking up. I actually enjoy mornings. The state of morning. Not its earliness. The sunrise, the temperature, the dew, the birds... Not the fact that I had to become conscious to enjoy it... I love nights. I love nights in the city because of the skyscrapers and the way they glow. The way the clouds move over the city and stand out so starkly against the dark blue sky. (I love the song "Dark Blue". Ask Ruth.) I love nights in the country because of the stars. The sound of coyotes and bull frogs.

I often miss being young.
I do have regrets, many things I would do differently.
I feel like I miss Europe, and I have never been there before.
I sometimes avoid reality by always planning for the future.
I struggle with being controlling and that scares the hell out of me.
I want to be a good wife and mother some day.
I don't find it hard to be open with people.
I love Harry Potter.
I want to marry the waiter at 3rd Coast.
If I could play any instrument, I'd play the piano.
I enjoy pretending I'm the shit, even when I am most definitely not.
I want to study Psychology some day. And get my masters in English.
Dr. de Rosset is kind of my hero. I want to be her.
I can't sing, but I love it. I love music.
I want to be mature when I grow up.
I'm terrified of dying. But I think about it a lot.
Heaven is going to be great.

I love God, and I am not good enough to be His daughter. But He chose me. I wouldn't have chosen Him otherwise. I like talking to Him, but I don't do it enough. I run from Him a lot, because I am overwhelmed with how often I fail Him. I am idolatrous. This speaks so much of Him... He is patient and loving, even when I am the epitome of unloving. The absolute best thing about knowing God and being loved by Him is that no matter how good I am, He doesn't ever love me any more. If I am the most appalling of sinners, He doesn't love me any less. He loves me like He loves His Son, Jesus. It is the most sweetest love I will ever know, and I will know it for all eternity. Being the selfish, controlling, fallen human that I am, I have a hard time submitting my life to the authority of Christ. But the past few months I have been learning what it is like to live for myself. It is far worse than living a life proskuneo. (Bowing in submission) I am going to spend the rest of my life struggling and growing and learning. It frustrates me at times, but He is faithful. Despite how faithless I am.

The List

I have proskuneo written in pen on my wrist. In one week, it will be a permanent tattoo.
Ruth and I just made plans to go to Nebraska for Christmas. First road trip ever. (For me) Next year... California.
I looked at plane tickets to New Zealand for next summer. Damn. If you feel so inclined to support me financially...
Andrew McMahon. 17 days. 'Nuff said.
Europe. Must see. This includes: France, Italy, England, Scotland, Ireland, Germany, Switzerland, Romania, Spain. Anywhere I can get with whatever money I have.
Perhaps Cambodia?
Maine. Colorado. Someday soon, you better believe it.
Crossing off every book on De Rosset's reading list- hopefully before my life ends.
Writing a book that could appear on De Rosset's reading list. That may just be my new life purpose. (Not)
Seeing a kid learn to live with autism... Please, God.
Living my life with purpose and spontaneity...


Finding a man who wouldn't mind coming along? Unnecessary, but if he's hot, I won't complain.

I've finally lost my mind, and then I lost my way....

I always sit down with my laptop with no idea what to write. I simply feel the need to. I have had so much on my mind these past few days, but I don't even know if its worth writing, or if I should write at all...
All of that to say:
Lately I have been wrestling with my sin nature. God created mankind to be perfect. To be wholly His, to life in constant fellowship with Him. That is what we were made for. Now that we are fallen, it goes against our nature to be in fellowship with God. Now, instead of craving God for what He is- my life source, I want the very things that break His law. I know that His law is in place to help me be set apart, to protect from the ravages of sin, yet part of me still desires to have the cliche forbidden fruit... When I hear a friend telling me how much fun it is to get trashed, a part of me wants that, for many horrible reasons.
There has been a periods in my life where I have given myself over the desires of my flesh, only to face disaster. I am still dealing with the incredibly painful consequences of my sin to this day. Despite the pain that sin brings, it still seems more attractive than honoring God's law. Why is this?
It is because I have yet to surrender myself wholly to Him. I haven't found in Him the greater joy of obedience. If I found pleasure in loving God with all of my heart and in obeying Him, I don't think that getting trashed would be so appealing to me. I would prefer to get caught up in being with God instead of being in some guy's arms.
I know that above all God is better. I know it in my head. My heart isn't convinced. My sinful heart is still begging for its destruction. My redeemed heart is fighting a losing battle. Sin seeps through everything in this world. Sin takes a drink and turns it into an addiction, a deadly loss of inhibition. Sin takes healthy desire and twists it into a pornography addiction, into premarital sex, pregnancy outside of wedlock. Sin takes everything that is beautiful and kills it. And yet that is what we desire as fallen humans- a passion that leads to death. We sell our souls for a summer of beer and sex. We wake up hung over and without the slightest idea of who we fell asleep with. We graduate college and marry. We wake up mid-life and wonder who the hell we married, and divorce them when we realize we never loved them after all. We throw ourselves into careers so we have money to pay for our newest addictions, the best car, the newest Iphone. We die- and then we really get what we were asking for. Its a sickness.
I think that we get the idea that we can live without God. We just can't die without Him.
Yet even unbelievers have a sense of the futility of sin. One artist puts it this way:
"And the bars are finally closed, so I tried living for the moment, until the moment finally froze and I felt sick and so alone."
So despite our craving for sin, I think that we know that it isn't all that there is to live for. But, we don't desire God on our own... Romans 3:11 is clear on this.
That touches on a whole other subject... The fact that God puts the desire for Him in the hearts of those He chooses. And for the rest of the world: They are damned. And chillingly happy to be so. And there my mind is blown.

On to other issues:
I am spending my money like its going out of style. (It probably is) I have no idea if I am coming back to Moody or not. But after concert tickets, a tattoo and paying off my debt, I am probably not coming back. I don't know what I am going to do about my internship. I know that I want to get overseas as soon as possible. I want to study in Europe this summer, but I also need to do my internship. Maybe it is possible to do both... If I do go to Europe, that will probably put me at least a semester and a half behind. I need to decide if I want to go to Asbury after I go to Moody. 4 more years of school... eh. I suck at school. But I love learning.
Decisions, decisions.
I need a break. But there isn't really one in sight.
I miss high school football.
I wish that my biggest decision in life right now is what I should wear to homecoming.
The great thing about life is that it can only get better. The most horrible thing about life is that it can only get worse.
The inescapable fact of life is that someday- you die.
But death is a whole other story.

Stream of Conciousness

I wish I didn't feel so tired. I used to be able to write better, think better at night. Now I feel I have no clarity of mind at any given time.
I realize now that I want to return to Andrew for all of the wrong reasons. And here I am again, not feeling, except the longing to be accepted elsewhere.
I want to be better for you, whether you take me or leave me.
For a fleeting moment I felt better. I felt great, even. And then some girl took my laundry out of the dryer before it was dry and left it on the counter. Suddenly my mood was foul again.
Such a struggle to sit and read Romans 12 and feel so far from being the living sacrifice that loves her enemies and strives to be renewed. How bitter I am with myself for always, ever falling short.
Why are the good guys so few and far between? And why am I so tempted to settle for less?
It seems that the more I think about my own depravity, the more I experience guilt and self-loathing. Christ came for the sick. In experiencing the depravity, I am tasting His grace and mercy, renewed every morning. I have become quite the pessimist.
My Lord and Savior died for me. I am His, and He is mine. Despite the fact that I stray so far, so often, His grace is unending, if not more abounding, when I am feeling so low.
Taste and see that the Lord is good...
He is good. I have just been swallowing whole, and not taken the time to taste Him.

I write to stay dry...

If I do not write, I drown.
If I cannot take a few minutes every day and unload my heart and mind onto a keyboard or a journal, I am almost overcome. Lately, I have had a lot to think about and consider. I feel like I need to sit down and write a few people some letters, letting them know what I think... But I feel like if I don't take time to think long and hard about what I should say, that my words would just end up obliterating relationships.
I hurt. Two people who I love a lot, two of the people I love the most are inflicting more pain than they could be aware of.
One of them I have no problem disliking. One of them I am seeking to have reason to dislike. One of them I want to say what I have to say and forever close the door on the relationship. The other I want to say what I have to say and then grow a deeper love.
Yet I know if I just spoke what was on my heart with no thought or censorship, I would be left staring at two burnt bridges. I tend to speak without thinking, acting on emotional impulse, rather than discernment and rationality.
I would say that I am a very emotional person. I am a passionate person. The combination results in a terrifying whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that exhaust me, that drain me, that harm me and harm others. It is not all bad, of course. There are benefits to being such an emotional being, to having passions. Yet at the moment, I wish I could turn off my emotions, shut down my heart and mind, and be a sad robot, made of nothing but metal. To be cold and hardened to all of this emotional turmoil, to hear something of break ups and broken families, and shrug.
Of course I know this is ridiculous. Life is all the more beautiful because of pain. "The shadow proves the sun." This pain will grow me, in many ways I am sure. This too shall pass. There will come a day when my tears are dried for good, and I will wonder why I cried so much over a boy. So for now, I will feel. And feel boldly. I will love again, with utterly reckless abandon. I have less than a century to enjoy a romantic kind of love between a girl and a boy, a man and a woman. I plan on loving to the best of my ability, whoever it may be. Although sometimes I wonder if there is anyone who can handle... me.

Kiss Me With Your Cherry Lipstick, Never Wash You Off My Face....

The realization that I came to last night was a beautiful one, and it puts my soul at ease. It has begun a process of spiritual rectification that might otherwise have been much delayed. Although I have found spiritual comfort, my emotions are still raging inside of me, and when left to think to myself, I see a moving picture show in my mind.
These emotions, this flood of memories that assaults me daily and brings stinging tears to my eyes, I thought that maybe I had bypassed this messy stage of breaking up. Alas, it just came three months later than I expected it to. I knew all along I was not okay, but I think that God was being merciful so I could deal with the storm known as Adam. I don't think it would have been mentally or emotionally possible to deal with what happened with Adam as I was trying to deal with my break up. So now, as I work at Moody, alone, cleaning bathrooms, I have no where to hide from the sadness and the memories, the worries and concerns, the hopes and the fears. I must just deal with them.

I remember sitting under a starry winter sky, giving no heeding to the biting cold, sitting in a covered wagon. The top was rolled back and we sat beneath a dome of glittering constellations, taking advantage of precious alone time. The only thing to draw us out of our reverie was the long, high howls of nearby coyotes. Wrapped up in each others arms on that cold bench, I experienced for the first time what it was just to kiss... and kiss and kiss and kiss, to kiss until my lips were numb, and not because of the cold. I remember stumbling through the darkest of dark woods, where he had first held my hand, now clinging to him for love and from fear.

This is just one of many that rush through my mind, leaving me desperately sad and feeling alone. A huge part of me is a hundred miles away, and I am rejected.

A Thrill Of Hope

"You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again. You will increase my greatness and comfort me again." Psalm 71:20-21

A shroud hugs the roof of Gotham, glowing red in the distant corner, hanging silver and spooky over the edge of the city. It glows with an ironic, ethereal beauty. A gentle, cool breeze stirs the air, like an almost pleasant shiver. Lights flicker on and off throughout the staggered buildings. Cranes dangle in air, appearing and disappearing in the ever shifting atmosphere.
I worshiped.

*My soul is in the hands of a God who impregnated a fifteen year old Jewish girl. This same God descended as man, born in a barn. He made chairs for thirty years. He was then arrested and beaten by Roman guards. He died a shameful death on a mound of garbage known as 'the skull'. This is my God.
How is it that I, of my own will, choose to entrust my soul to such an unbelievable story? How is that, of my own will, I would give up what could be a fun, wild life of pleasing myself?

I don't.

This omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent Triune God, Creator of the universe, who holds all things together, stirred within my soul a faith that I could not have of my own accord. Not because of anything that I did, being an utterly sinful, corrupted soul- but for His own glory and good pleasure, He willingly laid down his life. In a moment that appeared to the world as defeat and weakness, Christ conquered death. At that moment, my damned soul was bought. God, who was born in a manger in a hick town, willingly gave Himself up to die an incredibly painful, lonely, dark death.

I cannot wrap my mind around how God, the one true God, could do such a thing for fallen mankind. I am awed that I am chosen by this God, that He gave me faith so that I would not have to worry about losing my salvation when I mess things up so terribly. When I have descended to the pits of sin, God looks on me and sees Christ's righteousness. He doesn't see me as a damned sinner, so dysfunctional and astray that there is no hope. He looks on me and sees His beloved Son, who suffered through thirty-three years on this not-so-pleasant earth. I have righteousness through faith. And my ability to have faith is a gift from God.

*Putting my trust in this God who came and lead a lowly, yet remarkable, life isn't like looking at a chair, evaluating whether or not it can support me, and then putting my faith in it by sitting on it. No, the story of God and His redemption of creation it too counter-culture, too against intuition and understanding just to decide, "Oh, I'll put my faith in that." It takes this great and unfathomable God to stir this faith within me.

And there are no words to express the gratitude I feel in being chosen to be a part of this epic story.




*Professor Quiggle gave this moving illustration in my European Reformations class today, in response to the question of the bonded will of man.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I am sitting in Argo Tea, putting forth little effort in being productive... I should have learned my lesson from last night, in which I was up until 6 this morning reading and writing papers. I am reading the book RealSex by Lauren Winner for my Marriage and Family Systems class. It is actually really good. Kind of an awkward book to take to a cafe, but I have long since stopped caring so much about that kind of stuff.
As usual, I am incredibly confused about almost everything in my life. I am confused by my relationship, or lack thereof, with Andrew. I made it a whole summer. I was okay. And then the reality and the pain that I had been fleeing from finally caught up. And when it hit me, it was like what I would imagine being hit by a truck, or slamming into a brick wall would be like. It left me slightly senseless, dazed, and confused. The fight or flight process kicked in and I wanted to take flight, to keep running. Even now, I want to run. I want to leave almost everything. I want to remove myself from Chicago, from Crawfordsville, from anything that connects me to the issues that surround me. I want to buy a plane ticket and fly to New Zealand. I want to throw myself fully into a ministry where I spend all day with horses and kids, helping them to overcome their own tremendous problems, while I cower from my own.
He told me the other day that there was a girl that he liked. Just another way to hurt. Another blow. As he told me I instantly felt sick, couldn't breathe, and spent the next few hours sobbing while Deanna rubbed my back. The past few days I have found myself so lost in thought. The only time that I can escape it is when I am at the Gap. The Gap is like a whole other life to me. I can hurl myself into the job, working to achieve a possible distant promotion. I don't have to think about everything that is wrong with me. My problems follow me everywhere else, except there.
All of these feelings that are coming up because of Andrew are revealing a much nastier side of my self. The side of me that has blood boiling in my veins at the thought of another girl stepping in to take my place. I apparently think so highly of myself to think that I should be irreplaceable. Yet all summer I have been searching frantically for Andrew's stand in, only to realize that there isn't one, shouldn't be one. Not now anyway. I feel confused about how I should view this singleness. The thought of casual dating appeals to me, but the thought of committment to anyone but Andrew terrifies me. Another insight into my sick selfishness, the disconnect in my heart and my head. Instant gratification seems to be a pretty big priority to me. I can see that my attitude implies that Andrew should sit around and wait while I resolve all this inner turmoil, while always toying with the idea of dating other guys. I am such a jerk. I feel like I could compile a pretty comprehensive list of why guys should stay away from me right now. I sure as hell wouldn't want to date someone like me...
All of these things point to an even graver issue. My heart is *effed up. Like I indicated in my previous blog, I am feeling hopelessly lost. At the beginning of the summer, I felt as if I was putting up a valiant effort to fight my own destruction. And here I am, feeling rather destroyed. I feel so low that I can't even manage to mouth a prayer, to pick up my Bible. I feel so estranged from God. Yet in Church on Sunday, I was struck by my need for God in a new way. I was texting my brother throughout church, and he was telling me about his issue with his girlfriend. I began to feel very sad for him, wishing that I could protect him from what I see to be a very poor relationship and impending heartache. I wish I could spare him from the pain I know he is going to face. I have to deal with the pain that my mom has been abandoned by her family. I can't imagine how absolutely horrible that must feel, to be so alonen, and that is a whole issue in and of itself. I am responsible for part of that, but I don't even know how to reconcile that situation. All of this to say, I was overwhelmed and consumed by pain, by heartache, by the devastation of relationships. And then I felt a small stirring of hope in my soul. I need God. I need Him to heal me. I need Him to save me once again, not from my sin, but from myself. Instead of letting my pain beat me into the ground, I need to let it stir me upwards, to a Father who wants me to share my pain with Him, and to share His yoke with me. What a wretched person I am, that it is taking me so long to drag myself back to Him. Praise Him for His abounding grace!
I have so many thoughts and concepts swirling through my heart and mind right now. Every now and then I am faced with a cycle that I see in my family. I see my older sister, asking my dad for money so she can buy soap and shampoo, because there is no one to love her and care for her as she murders herself with meth. I see my mother, her mind altered by who knows what, leaving her unpredictable and hateful at times, and at other times, so needy for attention and love from others that when it doesn't come she is left feeling purposeless. I see her now, for the most part alone and abandoned, just like her eldest daughter. I beg that God doesn't let me follow in the footsteps of the women before me. I don't want to succomb to madness and hopelessness and despair. I don't want to find myself at the mercy of internal demons that I could never face, letting disappointment after disappointment leave me embittered and depressed to the point where no one can bear to deal with me. Life is so cruel. Satan has wrought so much havoc on my family... How can I be expected to overcome it?
Why isn't God doing more to stop it?

One need not be a Chamber -- to be Haunted --
One need not be a House --
The Brain has Corridors -- surpassing
Material Place --
Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting
External Ghost
Than its interior Confronting --
That Cooler Host.
Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,
The Stones a'chase --
Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter --
In lonesome Place --
Ourself behind ourself, concealed --
Should startle most --
Assassin hid in our Apartment
Be Horror's least.
The Body -- borrows a Revolver --
He bolts the Door --
O'erlooking a superior spectre --
Or More --

Emily Dickinson



*Check out "effing" on dictionary.com. I found this term used often in Harry Potter, and also by my roommate... Unsettling where language is going...

Starting to feel...

It hit me, as I sat for the first time today, on an old bench at a train station. "Memories like bullets fire at me from a gun..." At the most unpredictable of moments the pain rips through me. It is physical. It starts in my chest and washes over me, and for a second I am drowning in it, choking on it, unable to breathe because of it. And then it recedes, and I can catch my breath. But today the pain lingers. As I stood in line at the Sears Tower, Isabella tugged on my hand. I bent down, and she asked where my husband was. "I don't have a husband!" I replied with a laugh. "Are you asking where Arni is?" "Yeah, where is Barney?" she replied. I explained that Arni was in Indiana, and went on trying to explain how many of her there would have to be, stacked, to reach the top of the Sears Tower. Even Austin was asking about Arni, and Gil. I realized it wasn't just myself that was counting on the two of us getting married. The last time Arni and I had been together, he had been playing race cars with Isabella. I remember not feeling well, and getting up to go down stairs. I had stood up, kissing him on the cheek before heading down. As far as Isabella was concerned, he and I were married, although at the time we weren't even considering ourselves a couple.
The more I sit and allow myself to think about it, the more regret builds up inside of me. Everything about this summer, and the summer before, and even the summer before that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The summers and their mistakes run together in my mind, one bad choice after another. The apathy, and living on the edge of self loathing is eating away at my resolve. I am comfortable with it though, and that is perhaps the most dangerous thing. What I am learning makes me feel good, and I am in college because I know I should be. I do the homework because its required to get the degree I want. I clean the bathrooms, and work at the Gap because it pays for school.
I don't read my Bible because I have convinced myself I don't need it. I don't talk to God unless I am apologizing for not talking to Him. I know I need Him, but at the moment I don't want Him. I am desperately sick. I could have avoided it, I am sure. But it is easier to blame other circumstances. It is easier to point the finger at what happened this summer, saying that it was the anger and hatred and bitterness towards the guy who came into my world and turned it on its head. Its easier to say that I just wore myself to thin with working both jobs. Its easier to say that breaking up with the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life left me too depressed for the moment. But I am the root of all of those issues. My degeneration must have started before the summer. What an awful thought... How long have I been sinking? And now all of this baggage is weighing me down, and I can't seem to find a way back up. I don't even know if I want to go back up. I am tired, depressed, lonely... I want to move back with my grandparents and my dad. I am in no position to be at Moody.
I don't even want to be in love anymore. Seeing couples at Moody doesn't make me long for my past relationship, it gives me a sense of relief. Yet I miss Andrew. But I am repelled by the thought of commitment. I want something new though. I want to try new things, but I hope for the old things as well. I feel torn up and trashed on the inside. I am descending rapidly, looking back so far that I am always looking forward. I feel as lost as the lost... If not more so, because I know Who I am lost from. My eyes must be adjusting though, because the darkness doesn't seem so dark anymore.