Filling in the Holes

Bittersweet is probably the best description of this past weekend. However, I can't fix the track without backing up the train...

There exist moments in life where it appears that all truth is feigned. Emptied of the principles by which it is encompassed, the pile of rot contorts and entwines itself. All the while, the reality of it's intrinsic malignance strives to resemble and redefine the constant. Without accepting reality, it spreads out and separates with its only motivation death. Stretched to it's limits and relying on its own flesh, it feeds on self. All the while, progress is attempted but not seen... A house divided will surely fall... Truth prevails, unchanging and undivided.

Why the train stopped here...
As some have read in my first posts, I am guilty of being compelled by such lies. Honestly, I wish that I could say that it was the first time, but that would be feigning reality once again. Ignoble as it is, I chose to believe that my identity depended on worldly standards. A world where men and women are told they are merely what they weigh, eat, think, do, and appear to be. It is an inversion of sorts where change is supposed to occur from the outside in. We call one backwards if physical beauty doesn't match up with inner beauty, but really it's the other way around. Simply stated, the consciousness of "self" is a subverse way of idolizing man. I praise God for my dear friend Virgi, who in her desire to reach seek truth, encouraged me to watch a video that spoke these truths to me. I think the speaker's name was Lisa Bevere if anyone is interested, but I will have to get back on that one.

Last December.
Two years of indecent proposals from hundreds of inebriated boys had finally taken its toll. I found got financial assistance to return to school full-time and quit my job at Tuffy's. The sad part is, when I left that place I didn't leave my identity behind. Instead I heaved it along with me. I never realized how much I would miss the attention; 4am seranades by a dozen guys, shouts of "you're the best," and "will you marry me?", recieving nick names like Bonnie Blair and Speedracer from those who had seen me blading around campus. I thought my attempts to put up barriers had worked. However, it quickly became evident that I had put up barriers around the wrong thing; my heart. The walls were so thick and I was so tired. I tried everything I could think of, but they were attempts similar in their backward nature. I chose to believe that my value rested in what others thought of me, and even more so, what I thought of myself. The lies unveiled my eyes from the protection of my King. I was not the club soccer playing, blonde, country bumpkin. I was merely a broken image of what I used to be. Nevermind that this past image entailed anorexic tendencies, difficult struggles, and unbridled fears. The hardest part was I thought I could change my mind without changing my heart.

We've made it to the switch.
It was during this backwards time last December when I got a phone call from one of my "best friends." She no longer wanted me to be in her wedding (the connection to last weekend). I had been telling her for months that I wasn't up for hanging out, because that was the truth. I hadn't wanted to go anywhere, do anything, or see anyone for months. I kept telling her this, but she continued to affirm my worst fears; my value in this world rested on my utility. When she finally realised that I wasn't capable of being a source of entertainment, she simply used another excuse for not having me in the wedding; to kick me when I was down. It's sad really, that was the only thing that I was looking forward to being a part of, and I felt sure that she and her fiance were blessed through their relationship. The worst part is, that I no longer choose to trust in her friendship. I don't even know why I still went to the wedding last weekend! All going did was allow me to say that I stepped out and revealed the extent to which I still have not healed. My prayer is that God changes my heart, because right now I don't know if I will continue the friendship.

A Dose of utter sweetness.
So my great friend, and soul sister, Hannah, rode with me on the long trip to Fort Wayne. To top it off, I got to meet her adorable little bambino, Charlie. He is the by far the cutest, most agreeable baby that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting! Hannah is such a great mom. I could only dream to be half as great when/if I ever have children. She is so full of grace and love! That was the best part of my weekend. Then I got to bum around with her hubby, who is a really awesome guy, when she was tortured at the head table (She was asked to take my place in the bridal party). I am so thankful that God has blessed me with such a great friend!

Here is where I will stop. After mowing the lawn, I must look like a topiary. I am not sure when I will update next. Tomorrow I leave for Columbus and then on Friday I leave for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to visit my grandparents for the week. God Bless and Peace Out!

Anybody up for an infomercial?

Forever and a day - precisely how long it's been since I last blogged. There is no telling when, or if, I will ever be an accomplished journal keeper. In fact, it may even be necessary attend therapy about this. Hey, that's an idea! Maybe I could make some self help cassettes for fellow journal flunkies. A quick list of what I might need:
1. exquisitely disgusting, ridiculously exhuberant, and ultimately nauseating narrator
2. equally repulsive cheesey music
3. key phrases such as: "journal flunkies are people too!" "journal flunkies increase the value of journal successes; they play an imperative role in life." "some people need to keep journals because they suffer long term memory loss. . .you must be a genius! " "You are too busy making memories to write about them!"
4. a list of people considered successful who are/were journal flunkies too

Okay, Okay, I know, I know! I may not be able to sell one (especially if it's on cassette), but I am confident that I am not alone in failing to keep up my blog. For this, I apologize. That being said, this is me, get over it. And so it goes, I am a perpetually sporadic writer; one day there will be a hummdinger, and the next will be not even hum, and there is no telling when the singing will occur.

hmmmm.....so what has happened since I last blogged?

Well, the semester started out better than the last one ended. The hardest part was attempting to find my niche in the Miami community. I am older than most of my classmates, but not as old as my professors. I am an inbeetweenie weenie (this and all future rhymes are dedicated to my mother who rhymes or cutsies everything she says! - I love you mom!). I suppose that I can't complain. God has overwhelmingly blessed the department that holds the reigns of my education. I have spent more time in heart to heart chats, lunches, and tutoring sessions with my professors than I have spent in class. God's glory is shining through in a million different ways, even without the explicit consent of the participants. This is just one way that my GOD ROCKS MY WORLD! Through the tears and the laughter He is there.


Okay so it almost 4am and I am pooped. It would probably be good to get to bed before sunrise. Oh yah, I also have to take out the garbage...STINK, literally, it reeks! I need to get used to putting my garbage out on sunday nights here at good ol' 617!

Peace Out...Do svidanya (goodbye) i (and) spakonyay nochay (goodnight)

new blogs coming soon!

A funny little thing has been happening. For the last month or two, I have been having difficulties accessing my blog. I would sign in, but my blog wouldn't be listed under my account. I was a bit frustrated, as many of you have been bugging me about blogging. I really did want to! Anyway, the kicker comes when I remember that I had signed up twice! The first time never produced anything. Eventually, I forgot that I had allready signed up and just created a new account. Yah, so I have been trying to sign on with my old account this whole time! It's quite funny really.......just another little story to keep you all guessing......

The best part is that I keep myself guessing. This is just me.

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.