Ramblings

Ok, so Broken by LifeHouse is now my favorite song. I love the lyrics and their sound over all. I dont think they have produced a bad CD yet. This song, maybe because I feel this in my life, i think has captured something that only song can express.

The broken clock is a comfort-it helps me sleep tonight. maybe you can start tomorrow, from stealing all my time. And i am here still waiting. though i still have my doubts. I am damaged at best, like you’ve already figured out.

Im falling apart – im barely breathing. With a broken heart, thats still breathing. In the pain, there is healing. In your name, i find meaning. So- Im holding on… Im holding on….. Im holding on….. Im barely -holding on to you.

The broken locks were a warning, You got inside my heading. I tried to be guarded, Im an open book instead. I still see your reflection, inside my eyes. They’re looking for purpose, they’re still lookin for light.

Im falling apart – im barely breathing. With a broken heart, thats still bleeding. In the pain, (in the pain) there is healing. In your name, (in your name) i find meaning.

Im holdin on. (im still holdin) Im holdin on. (im still holdin). Im holdin on. (im holdin ooOOnnnn) Im Barely holdin on to you.

Im hangin out, another day, just to see what- you would throw my way. and I’m hanging on -to the words you say. You say that I will- be ok.
The broken lights on the freeway, left me here alone. I may have lost my way now… Havn’t forgotten- my way home.

Im falling apart – im barely breathing. With a broken heart, thats still bleeding. In the pain, (in the pain) there is healing. In your name, (in your name) i find meaning.

Im holdin on. (im still holdin) Im holdin on. (im still holdin). Im holdin on. (im holdin ooOOnnnn) Im Barely holdin on to you. Im holdin on. (im still holdin) Im holdin on. (im still holdin). Im holdin on. (im holdin ooOOnnnn) Im Barely holdin on to you.

Yep, thats about it. Great CD. There is something in us that wants to present who we are to everyone else around us. Its an English paper of sorts. We know the format, we procrastinate with the content… throw it together at the last minute and hope the best. I did a poster project yesterday… last minute of course. I don’t know why i wait.. maybe reveals something about me. Anyways, i got it done in about four hours… paper and all. All the way up to the last minute i was gluing and constructing. I walked into the exhibit and put mine in its spot. We all immediately had to evaluate five other posters.

At the end of everything, i went back to my own poster and started looking at my finished product…. I noticed the girl next to me was doing the same thing. I asked her if she was seeing how she would have evaluated her own project. She looked surprised and laughed… “yep” was the reply. I asked if the glue was still wet. I was comforted to know that I was not alone. Reflecting on this is a pattern i see in my own life. Sometimes we throw things together and hope that it passes. Maybe no one would notice that we have no idea if we did a good job or not. We just dont want to fail, throw everything together at the last minute and hope the best.

I find I am broken. Unsure. Insecure. Hoping. Desperate. Helpless. Yet, here I am…. in APA or MLA format…. whichever the environment around me requires. Do i meet the requirements? Whats my thesis statement… sometimes i wonder if im in the wrong class.

The words form this song remind me of who we are when no ones around… when we dont have to perform. when, if the world allowed, we could desire what ever, yet, here we are… and dealing with where we are compared to where we want to be is the pain we must bear.

Ramblings part 2

Two more things… interestingly enough. The first is how amusing i find it that 80% of my friends, real friends, are non christian. I’ve had the privilege of taking a few of these to services or introducing them first hand to God … some have even begun to walk with the lord in a real and tangible way. Yet, its around these people that i feel myself come alive and i can be who i am. I am free. I love, I joke, I laugh, I cry, I share… and I don’t feel judged or seen as any different. There is depth… because i am willing to go there… and that is different in the world today- its different to them- its different to me. I would die for most of my friends. I love them. I’m devoted. I live through them in a way. They know it. They know why and how i love and have heard of God’s faithfulness in my life. Many are surprised I’m Christian. I don’t fit their mold… and sadly so. For i wish their mold of Christianity was something altogether different. My weak attempt doesn’t compare. I just wish there was a stigma that wasnt negative when ‘christian’ is brought up in these settings.

my point is how painful it is in Christianity to put your heart out there before your own brothers in Christ just to end up with shallow engagements. Of course, i know hurting people hurt people. Thats all we are. Maybe I just dont have to wonder around my non christian friends. I know they appreciate my heart… maybe im needy, maybe i dont have it together and desire relationship, but they give it, appreciate it, and show it without reserve. As much as i pour into their lives… I promise i have received back. Not to say anything less about my christian friends. The ones i have are more committed to me than anyone i know. I’m just saying this has been the exception and not the rule in my experience. I want to be wrong.

The second thing i was going to briefly mention, if its possible for me to do so with anything, is OCD. Obsessive-Compulsive disorder. Thats what my topic was on for the paper that was due. In studying OCD, i found that it was an obsession with values, morals, standards, perfection, and the perception and pursuit of these things. It had everything to do with what was right. The belief in the pursuit of perfection is that there is a perfect state of being that we must always strive to achieve. Things arn’t right and we must fix them. This leads to compulsions to fix and appease our obsessive thoughts. Are the doors locked… you check them. Maybe i was wrong. check again. Did i do everything right… Ill do it again… I just cleaned this… it looks dirty still… What if i get sick? Am I thinking the right things? am i saying the right things? Do my thoughts and actions affect others? How can i control this? I feel wrong for liking this. I shouldnt think this. I shouldnt do this.

The cycle goes on and on and on. Fear, obsession, failure, feelings of rejection, repentance, feelings of forgiveness, restoration, obsession, fear, and failure again. The person creates patterns to prevent the fear from happening. Its the obsession with the fear that creates the compulsive behavior. OCD has one problem that makes it hard to classify and diagnose as something altogether different than anxiety or other disorders. In my opinion, it revolves around standards. What is right? If there was no right… nothing to add up to, be compared to, achieve…. there would be no wrong, would be no obsessing over what wasnt right. You would just be.

One “symptom” of OCD was religiosity. Clinically, i wouldn’t classify. Personally… well, i saw myself in these descriptions. I have filtered myself through so many standards of what i perceive is right that sometimes its hard to just be. To respond as you are. What is right? well, i know love is right. True love. Everlasting unfailing… the God type of Love. Do my behavior modifications really reflect love and freedom… if so, then why do i feel the things i feel. Do i walk in condemnation and shame… and then create patterns to prevent this.. are those patterns healthy or are they compulsive.. maybe. I see myself in this if i want to get honest.

Back to the song… this struggle is an ancient struggle that we all find hiding inside of us once we sleep. It may look different for each person.. but its there. Who are we? can we really be honest with ourselves? Can we be open and painful at the same time. Are we willing to go there. Im starting to.

“I tried to be guarded, Im an open book instead.”

Reflecting

I often think about who i was in middle school, and then in high school, and, now, who ive become. I often wonder as to where others are at, and what their perceptions are of what happened in my life. I wonder as to what happened in theirs as well. As for my self, all i know is that i’ve done the best that i can with what I have got. I’ve tried to turn things around and for many the difference is evidence enough. I wont go back. Our perception is a dangerous thing. when correct it brings discernment and insight into truth; when off, it brings deception and causes us to act in a way other than in truth…i think the most dangerous of all is that it causes us to believe we are acting in “the truth” when in fact it is but an illusion.

“Why” i think is the question that we all ask when something happens that we dont understand. Sometimes we fill in the answers and go on as if our conclusion is absolute; sometimes we just continue on as if nothing ever happened. Im not sure and i dont know where many of my friends are at today. I can only wonder at where the answer to that question would lead and to the why behind it. There is always something deeper than what we see to every issue. We can only wait and let time run its course, for in the end all things will be revealed. I hope my own life will prove itself well enough… God willing for i know I cant do it on my own.

Mercy

I come back to this place time and time again. God’s Mercy is never ending and His love is unfailing. Unfailing. So many times my own love can be failing. I dont have it together. I can’t be someone else. Im fickle even to the point that just by admitting these failures i feel as if i accomplished something. So many times I walk away hand in hand with the pharisee after beating my chest as if i accomplished something and got one over on God. This becomes most painful when everything is revealed in the light and i realize that i am no better than the people i council. The better side is that it keeps me face to face with the issues inside that i am to wrestle with. God says, “you know that ego… the man, the kingdom, the reputation, the name you’ve created… I want that. In return I will give you a new name.” A good name is like a pleasing fragrance. Derek Webb once said that “the greatest thing that could happen  to someone is that their darkest sin be broadcasted on the 6 o clock news” the freedom that would follow would far surpass the humiliation. How many times do we smile when we are dying inside; struggle alone for fear of rejection or to protect others form ourselves; respond “good” when we know that we are falling apart at the seams. I you cant relate, maybe your not being honest with yourself. We desire, we crave, we want, and we feel. Yet, in the end, the things we pursue will never satisfy our plight. We have a need. a depth that burns within our human flesh. Its a reminder, like hunger or thirst, that we are lacking. We need help. We need God.

womyn.

So, the topic of the independent feminist ‘womens movementment’ has come up in more than one class this semester.

I support women, taking roles, leadership, equality in jobs… but i am soo against the feminist movement. I could link the feminist movement with higher divorce rates, abortion increase, break down of the family model, and the increase in feminized “disabled” males. This breeds unruly children who have been neglected and emotionally detached from a “Father figure.” By anti feminist i mean the feminist movement that says women are independent, don’t need men, and should rule everything and not viewed as different in ANY way. men then become spectators in life or reduced to housewives themselves… i dont want to be a housewife.

I think there are legit problems to be faced in society… just dont emasculate our males in the process… I was talking to a friend of mine in class about this very issue. I asked her what would happen to the men once the women had all the power… She replied “who cares, we would be through with them once we got the power.” I know it was only in jest… but Men are designed differently than women. We have things that make us grunt and hearts that seek missions to accomplish.

I share this after dealing with my certain things ive faced in the past with the issue of women. After praying hard and searching deep, i realized God’s heart for women, and ultimately his heart for me, differs greatly than my own perception. It is under the full covering, laying down of a mans life- such as he laid down his life for me, and giving over to love, the man serving as a husband, that a woman can truly be free to be who she is, and I who I am in the Lord. Its within these bounds that a woman reaches her full potential such in the same way that is in our lives, once given over to God, that we may find the full identity of who we are. Not saying women can’t, won’t, are not allowed or able- just that its not healthy for a woman to be completely independent in the most extreme meaning of the word. It would benefit her greatly, and I in my relationship with God, to allow herself to be loved and served by man in an equally yoked relationship.

We talked about how many women considered themselves independent (the number was great in the room- for the idea of independence is attractive). After the survey, we discussed their different situations… far fewer were actually independent (either from help from parents or someone else).. and even fewer shunned the idea of loving a husband and making family a focus in their life over business pursuits. They desired to be in relationship and to allow a need in thier life, but most were protecting themselves by using this front. If there is no vulnerabilty, then there can be no violation of that vulnerability. Im fascinated as to how society has evolved into what it is now over the past century.

I may be a complete fool. I may be off. I’m not a women and there are some things i realize i will never understand. Maybe there was a bad relationship. Maybe a family situation growing up. I don’t know. It was a good discussion and i am very interested in different views.

I like coffee shops

 I like Coffee shops. They are sort of a ritual for me. Good coffee and free internet is great for days off. I am also a people watcher. There is something about life that makes you wonder. Each person has thier own story and each one will eventually fade away. Again, i like to write, so i thought i would share a recent thought.

The young girls seated in their seats sipping on the latte freshly brewed, studying being the task at hand.

A man, late twenties, listening intently to the lady across form him, much older. His crossfire parked out front in plain view; so no harm would follow.

The young couple eagerly jumping out of the rustic truck to join hands, racing inside to eat and enjoy the time they have together.

She sits solitarily in her chair every Saturday typing away in a world of her own, its safe I think, and maybe that’s what draws her.

Then there is me. My heart races for adventure, and yet here, I am, much like her. My thoughts seem to be all I have at times. I refuse to let go of control for fear of where it may lead. There’s good inside, a promise of hope and to that alone do I grasp my hands and hold on with all my might. Tomorrow may not be the same, but today is real enough. My coffee, half gone is another reminder of the constants that bring comfort. The day grows late, the shadow seems to pass. Time is but a fleeting substance and intrigue grows frantic at every passing enchantment resisted. So I sit, and wait for this too shall pass, a phrase from lips spoken, what seems, a lifetime ago. Non of whom I was remains but memories like these , and who I’ve become continues on in desperate hope that reservation’s cruel investment, over time and against all odds, would one day yield reward.

Capture

 OK, so i write… alot. I enjoy it. It becomes an outlet for the things i feel and go through but cant express in other ways. Here is one of my first compositions. Hope you enjoy.

 

 

Standing in the arena-of-silence, the dust has come to rest,

I’m shaken by -the violence of, the life that I have left,

Torn inside and weakness fought, the fight that I have seen,

Every fight that I have won- a feeble victory,

This man, I am, I can not change, the past that brought me here

I take my scars and carry on, revealing all my fears

Who could know or understand, the path that’s carried me,

What’s the use of broken love or careless vanity?

I wish my life had set its course and things were all as aught,

But nonetheless they’re the way they are,

Relief is what I sought.

Non of whom I cared about, have followed me to this place,

Those of them that went before, have carried me by His grace.

What use am I and what do I do? Where does the story end?

divergence calls from every side, yet, I

-haven’t given in.

Who would listen to my despair, commending in their way?

Who could show this broken soul, -how to seize the day?

I want to cry and truly mourn the ones that I have lost,

Ever since I made the choice, I’ve had to count the cost.

The lonely road that I have found has taken all I had

Shall I indeed accept the good, and not accept the bad?

And in return I’m granted peace in any way I find

I set myself before the light, seeing though I’m blind

My life is such a viscous war, tearing me up inside.

Learning to love and to live again, trying to capture the time.