Last night I got to spend time with the people at Veritas. There was good food and great company. We didn't do a study but that was ok. It was nice to just hang out. That is why I don't understand why I found myself in tears on the way home. I just couldn't help it. Why is it so hard for me to put myself out there. Why can't I just socialize normally? I want nothing more than to be close to people, but it's as if I don't know how. My family thinks it's abandonment from my past, but I don't understand why that would keep me from this. I have to force myself to leave my room. I have to force myself to leave the house. I have to force myself to talk to people. I don't understand why this is happening now. I thought I was over this part of my life. I am not an abandoned child anymore, where the hurt is coming from, I don't understand. So what if I was left on porches, at grocery stores, at home, at church, at the baby sitters. It happens to kids all the time and they deal. Sometimes, I still start panicking in the store when I get separated from my mom. I just don't understand anything anymore and I wish the pain would just go away. I don't want to be a recluse. I don't want to hurt people that I love by being a hermit. I just want to feel that love for people and be able to feel thier love back. I can't take a compliment or trust anyone. I just want to be free. God, I need your peace.

Just Blog

I think I am gonna make a shirt that says, "I'd rather be blogging!"

Finals week is almost over. I just gotta make it through today........recite a few poems, finish a paper.....and then I'll be, "on the blog again. I just can't wait to be on the blog again....."
I am sure the picture has been set forth, the viewer has screamed, and everyone can go home!

I am the glass vessel

Implosion, as described by an old Tormont and Webster Encyclopedic Dictionary is "a more or less violent collapse inward, as of a highly evacuated glass vessel." I am the glass vessel.....

It is 4:30 in the morning and I sit here thinking that all the air is leaving me. What is it that makes it so hard for me to succeed here? Is it the school? Is it the student body, the staff? Or maybe the truth is, I am just an invalid. I am 24 years old, and I have allready left MU and returned twice. The polite people call it character, but I know what it really is. I know that normal people think I must be lazy. I know that most professors think I belong in a padded room. I know that I am the problem child, the thorn in the side of academia. The worst is that I know that I am a disappointment to the few who have believed in me. I guess the bright side is that people might start seeing me for what I really am, the grotesque form that belongs in a corner or closet somewhere. Now that's a pedestal on which I could stand.

Every day, I wake up to put on the same skirt with the same holes and the same red shoes that occasionally peek out from the fraying edges. Most of the time I love my skirt. I love that when I wear a different color shirt, it is not the same. I love that it gives and takes when it needs (except for the stairs). I don't have to fit into it, it fits me. Don't get me wrong, I don't think that life is comprised of flowing skirts and funky shoes. But for once, I just pray that I could stop running upstairs without a hand to sweep the skirt away from my toes and with asthma (I do have asthma, but that's not the point.) What is wrong with me? Since I was young, I was told that I was smart. In elementary school they put me in a special program for the gifted. In junior high I scored the same on my ACT as some of my friends at graduation. Ok, so if I am not stupid, there must be something else wrong with me, I think I am just an anomale (forgive my spelling). Maybe I am actually so stupid that people think it impossible!!! I will be easier swept aside as a genius freak. Well, maybe , just maybe, I have finally earned that right..........maybe I really do have the secrets locked away in my lumpy skull.........here it is.......ready?...........I don't know if you can handle it.........(drumroll)......................................there is nothing genius about me, I just look at things differently in a way that doesn't allow me to relate to others or perform normally in society, I am a screw up, a hard headed monkey who enjoys hitting it's head up against masonry!!!!!!!! ( maybe I should take up coconut picking)................................there, maybe now everyone can see me for what I really am............an ordinary monkey that has natural tendencies for jumping up and down, patting my head, and throwing my own feces.

Okay, so I know that I probably wouldn't throw feces in the eyes of Christ. Wait!!!! Scratch that, in the eyes of Christ I may be a little more domesticated............who am I kidding, I do it all the time. Everytime I give in to sin, I might as well just crap right on Him. How is it that He still loves me, when even all the other monkeys don't?

I will leave with this..........NO, I don't actually think that I am a monkey. NO, I don't throw my feces. I guess I just think that how come everyone sees me for what I am not, instead of what I am? Why do I want to finish college? WHy can't I finish college even when I do know why? Why do I feel so incapable? You'd think that a glass vessel with this many holes wouldn't be able to hold the amount of pressure necessary for implosion!

soul sisters

This morning, after my tardi arrival (1:05 pm to be exact) in the land of the "allready awake," my phone rang. Despite popular belief, I do know what a phone is, I know how to use one, and I am not completely frightened to utilize such an instrument. However, I will admit to being afraid of what demon might cantact me through this technology. Fortunately, it was again demonstrated clearly that I was unneccesarily trepidatious in my pursuit to respond to such an obvious breach of security. It's like the minute I hear the ring of my phone, the fear of attached strings, dissapointements, and discontentment reverberate in my being. I allready know what is on the other side......I live it, and I am sorry for it. I cannot fix myself, who I am, or who I have been. I am sorry that I don't trust anything, or anyone. Maybe I should just put a disclaimer to prepare people for who I am, what I am. I am not what people want me to be. I have tried to conform, but I hate myself there. This is it, this is me, this is the real deal. I am broken and tired and incapable of being anyone else. I exist on the fact that I am a child of the most high God. I am loved without any strings, and in that I must bask. My hope rests in His promises alone, the only ones I can trust. I can't even trust myself, for I am unreliable, foolish and dirty. I do trust that this time will pass, as it allways does, and I will be able to bury another part of my messed up being. I can't imagine not having that hope. My heart goes out to those who don't, the hopelessness must be suffocating. Today I was able to pick up the phone and find relief in my soul sister, whose lack of any strings freed my spirit and opened a door. It is Christ in her that shares love with such freedom and such love. I am thankful that Hannah called and that my spirit is again humbled by how somone can show such a nonjudgemental spirit to someone who can't even find it in herself. It's formless. It's God.

Writing in the Sky, Here comes the Delivery Guy

Tonight at Veritas we had a little chat about humility. I guess that's where blogging fits in for me. Ironically, it is not because I mind sharing my misgivings. it's because I am a recovering blog critic. Don't worry though, I have been clean for 3 months and 62 days! I held out from blogging up 'til a few minutes ago, but so far it feels great! "hehe!"

Okay, so all joking aside. I have some pretty big walls around me that I have, myself, constructed. They are the kind that I can't just leave behind. Fortunately, I have hope, through Christ, who loved me so much that He died for my sins. It is this enigmatically simple love that pulls me out of the most overwhelming depths of despair. When I think I am the most unloveable He whispers, "You are loved by the most high." When I think that I have fallen from His grace He says, "Your brother was dead but now he lives." When I squander my gifts He says, "You are forgiven." If not for His unconditional love I would not breathe.

Now I sit here listening to "My Deliverer is Coming" by Rich Mullins. It is all I can do to keep from going nutso from the lonliness of this world. I have let my feelings of inadequacy get the best of me, but I do not know how to let go of the pride from where it stems. There is something about praise and worship that allows me to find relief from it all. I praise him for this point of solace in my life. There is no worry about inadequacy, there is freedom. It's about the truth and the praise that pour from the hearts of those who love Him.

Before I finish, I just want to praise God for gifting me with the presence of His love through the faces of my brothers and sisters. Kimmie, Jenny, Steve, Ken, Mom, Dad, and all Veritassians thank you for allowing Christ to shine through you and deliver messages of hope to this weary, akward soul.