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i know we dont talk as often as we should. and i know that its my fault. i guess part of me still holds the last 4 years against you. part of me is still scared that your some malicious person just waiting for me to be happy again. just waiting. holding the other shoe over my head…. just waiting for the right time to let it drop.
im learning that i am a conflicted person. and as afraid of you as i am, im also hungry to worship you. hungry for friendships that will reflect your love. hungry to be surrounded by people who arent ashamed to proclaim your name. your truth. your freedom. your love.
im hungry.
you show me who i am to you, and yet i still see with blinding clarity, who i am to me. and sadly, i look at the me side more than i look at the you side. so maybe its not you im afraid of. maybe im afrad of me. and my utter unworthyness. maybe its my fear of you seeing how horrible i truly am. and no longer wanting to love me.
its the prodigal son, standing at the darkness of the doorway, just outside his Fathers dining hall. looking longingly into the light of the room. watching the feast. watching the joy… crying as he sees the uncondtional love that his Father pours on his guests.
its the desire to step out of the dark, and leave the grime encrusted clothes behind… walk into the light and just be loved. its the hunger to be me. its the hunger to know…
to know you
this is the air i breathe
this is the air i breathe
your holy presence living in me
this is my daily bread
this is my daily bread
your very word spoken to me
and i
im despereate for you
and i
im lost without you
and i
im desperate for you
and i
im lost without you
what does a real christian look like? seirously now. what does one whos so abandoned themselves to an all loving King truly look like. would i recognize them if i knew them before?
what does finding ones freedom in losing ones self look like? who would i be if i truly let go of my fears? of the things that keep me in my safe little hole? who would i be if i let myself be the real me? what would happen? would i still be loved if people knew who i was? who i could have been?
is true love really the ability to look into the blackness of anothers soul and yet still, amongst the utter ruins, find something lovely… something love-able?
there have been times the past few weeks where ive felt overwhelmed. drowing. drowning in my self. there have been times where ive just felt lost. where these questions are the ones im asking. where the answers to these questions are what im yearning for.
who am i? who could i be? and would i still be love-able?
what would i look like if i truly let go? if i released all hold on my life and let God have His way? would you recognize me? would i?
and how can i stand here with You
and not be moved by You
would You tell me how could it be
any better than this
and not be moved by You
would You tell me how could it be
any better than this
cos You’re all i want
all i need
You’re everything
everything
You’re all i want
You’re all i need
You’re everything
everything
so i love the Animal Planet. sue me. 🙂
actually, i ended up watching a special they had on a few days ago. it chronicled some amazing stories of pets that were left beind after hurricate katrina, and how they somehow survived at times weeks without food or water. it showed the pain the owners felt when they were told they had to leave there pets behind.
and it showed in beautiful detail, the joy… the joy of restoration.
i wasnt 5 minutes into the show and i had tears in my eyes.
the first story was told of an an older black man and his terrier. he had spent the first 4 nights after katrina on a highway overpass with his dog and a bunch of other people before finally getting to someplace of relative safety. after all the trauma of seeing his city under 5 feet of water, sleeping on overpasses and being afraid for his life he was then told he couldnt board a bus with his dog.
so he did what he had to do. and left the dog.
weeks later the dog was rescued by volunteers who found this little dog had swum 2 1/2 blocks back to his house… he was alive. shortly thereafter this little dog, and this man were reunited. and i will never forget what i saw.
i watched as a grown man was reunited with a member of his family. i saw the joy in this fathers eyes when he spotted his son. i saw all pretenses of “proper etiquette” be immediately dropped. I heard the passion, the excitement, the love in the fathers voice when he cried out…
“look at my boy!… look at my boy! LOOK AT MY BOY!”
and then i heard something else. i heard the cry of the Fathers heart. i heard it break. and i saw the tears. and i knew the hunger the Father had felt, when they weren’t together. and i saw the Fathers eyes… and i heard the Fathers voice, and i felt the Fathers joy when i realized that this is what happens in heaven every time… every single time, one of the Fathers sons or daughters come home.
look at my boy! LOOK AT MY BOY!!!!
this dog hadn’t been abandoned. this… this son was back home. he was safe. he was cared for. he was secure and never again would he and his Father be apart.
this Father, when he saw His son afar off, stepped out of His house and he ran. he ran to his son…
He ran.
thank you Father, for running.
im beginning to realize that our capacity for joy, our ability to expierence the happiness that living contains, our skill at seeing the good, the happy, the things to smile about in the everyday, is linked to the hell we’ve seen.
there are times when i dont think i could laugh at what i laugh at, had i not cried when i did. there are times when i sit back and realize i wouldnt be able to live, love and laugh as often as i do, i wouldnt be as thankful for what i have; if i wasnt forced to realize what could be, and at times was, lost.
we went to the texas state fair today. its a yearly tradition for my family to go at least once to the state fair. good food. fun car show. overall a great time. but something caught me, something made me pause.
we ended up watching one of those dog shows where they take the dogs through different skills. frisbee catching, pole-weaving, flat out speed, etc. we’d been last year to this show and it proved again to be a fun time.
i sat amazed throughout almost the entire show. not at how many frisbees were caught, or how high the dogs could jump, but at how rapt these four legged animals were with their owners, with their masters. the crowd of easily 2-3 thousand, the other dogs, the noise, the music, the announcer, none of it mattered. these dogs attention was unwaveringly focused on their masters. nothing else mattered. they litterally exploded out of the cages and their eyes didnt leave their masters.
and beyond that, they were having fun. they lived for what they were doing.
what hit me the hardests? the frisbees.
each dog did some amazing tricks catching frisbess thrown all over the arena. and each and every dog missed some frisbees…. but get this, they DID NOT CARE.
they didnt stop and apologize, they didnt lose focus, they didnt for one second wonder or fear or second guess the love their masters had for them. they didnt lose it, they didnt break down or stop trying. they kept going. they forgot about the dropped frisbee immediately for the next thing flowing from the hand of their master. they were living in the gaze of their masters and absolutely nothing else mattered.
it didnt matter if they dropped 1 frisbee, or all of them. this wasnt about the frisbee tricks, it wasnt about a job well done, it wasnt about the crowd, or the guy who just dropped his hamburger, this wasnt about the circumstances or surroundings, this wasnt about being better than the next dog. this was about the master. this was about the next chace they’d get to be in His arms, to feel His love and know that they were the only thing that mattered to him. this was about the master and only the master.
these four legged animals that cannot talk, cannot clean up after themselves, these smelly, slobery dogs were teaching me about life. about truly living. about not caring about their surroundings, about living in a time where every conceivable distraction is thrown at you, and yet your focus doesnt waver.
what world i would live in if i could only learn to live for the masters gaze. to live in all that He has for me, to forget the dropped firsbees, the messes left, the times i made a mistake or flat out disobeyed. who would i be if i truly dropped all pretenses and let myself rely on the truth that His love for me isnt based on catching firsbees? what impact would i have if i was freed to be me, to live for being with my master and to love every single moment of life? who would i be? how would i change? what would happen if i stopped crying over dropped frisbess, and simply began to live?
something struck me earlier this evening.
2005 is almost over with.
i know, its october on the calendar. that should be a clue that “hey, the year is drawing to a close”. what hit me harder, was the fact that life still feels like its on hold.
like im circling the airport, the sunset behind me, but there isnt an open runway. my landing gear isnt dropping. “something” is keeping me from the next thing.
part of me is pushing for the next thing. part of me is hungry. unsatisfied. unwilling to accept the “now” in favor of lusting after the “next”. its a void in my life. and i know its there.
but another part of me is quietly wondering if this is the “next”. if i should stop living in the hope of a next and start living in the real of the now.
maybe its because life isnt easy. and we humans dont like to intentionally put ourselves where it hurts. but it does. losing a best friend hurts. watching your sister break down into tears at the mere thought of eating a meal hurts. being totally helpless about both of those situations… it hurts.
and the part of me that is whispering quietly about the benefit of the “now”. is quickly being drowned out by the part of me that is screaming. screaming in frustration. screaming in anger. screaming in hate. screaming in pain. screaming in fear. screaming alone.
there is supposed to be a beauty in surrendering. in learning to let go. in letting loose. there is suposed to be a beauty in giving up and giving it over to our Creator.
im beginning to believe that this beauty has more in common with an ancient shipwreck nestled in the coral at the bottom of the sea, than the beauty youd see in your local mall. its exotic. its unusual. its a beauty brought of violence. a beauty birthed with tears. a beauty that doesnt come from pampering or prestiege, but one born from loss, heartache, pain.
the difference between this beauty and the one our world worships, the one you see plastered in magazines, on tv, billboards and desired by women everywhere, the difference between true beauty and this plastic beauty is that true beauty is earned… and it cannot die.
it doesnt need to be touched up. it cannot be reapplied. it doesnt fade, warp, change or lose its luster.
true beauty is born from a brokeness within. true beauty exudes a light that no darkness, no matter how powerful, can extinguish. true beauty is both terrifying and wonderful. true beauty is a process. its a journey. and its one that requires the willingness, each and every day to step up and answer questions that you dont want to be asked. it demands all you have and when you think you’ve given all you can, it shows you more that must be given.
true beauty is horribly beautiful.
and its what i live for. or rather, what i want to live for.
so if this is “now”. if it means i need to stop panting for the “next”. then so be it. im already to the conlusion that its beyond my own power to accomplish either goal. this, more or less, is just my confession that i cannot do it. i cannot create in myself, by myself the beauty i so hunger to see. the beauty i need.
and therein lies the key.
i need.
and i cannot fulfill the need.
are we left here on our own? can you feel when your last breath is gone? night is weighing heavy now. be quite and and wait for a voice that will say…
come awake. from sleep, arise. you were dead, become alive. wake up wake up. open your eyes. climb from your grave into the light.
bring us back to life
if you could, pray for my family this weekend and all those in texas and louisianna. rita is headed there this weekend. id be there helpin them get ready but unfortunately, work has me in michigan for two weeks on a last minute business trip.
also, beebs – somehow in the transition to the new blog format, i lost a link to yours. that will be remidied. sorry!
thanks for the prayers!
although words just dont seem to be here tonite, i could not let this week in September pass by without saying something.
im not sure i have words right now. not for what this week represents. for how much, what seems lifetimes ago, life changed. the world changed. my world changed. and i started a journey that i never in my wildest dreams could have fathomed. life fell apart. and i was forced to pick up the pieces.
now i stand, four years later amazed at whats happened. holding fast to the break of day….
ill be honest, for the most part im too afraid to look for His hand in all this. in all thats transpired. im resistant to finding His over-arching will buried inside of the shadows of the past 4 years. im not wanting to believe that a loving God could have anything to do with all thats happened.
………
i’ve absolutely no idea how to close tonites post. so im not going to. not officially. but ill leave you with this…
a new song.
for a new time.
and by the way, welcome back to my life…
oh Lord, why did you forsake me
oh Lord, dont be far away
storm clouds gathering beside me
please Lord, dont look the other way
oh Lord, dont be far away
storm clouds gathering beside me
please Lord, dont look the other way
we are crooked souls
trying to stay up straight
dry eyes in the pouring rain
well
the shadow proves the sunshine
the shadow proves the sunshine
im laughing. and its good. it really is.
im talking with people ive not talked to in way to long. and we’re making new memories. and remembering old memories.
and im realizing that im doing so much more.
im saying goodbye. to old friends. goodbye to past hurts. to past “me’s”. to the past. im saying goodbye to all thats held me back, kept me in the mold of who i was.
im talking with people who are letting me be me. people who are letting me change. become who more of who i want to be. and less of who i am. people who dont mind that i dont have all the answers, that im a failure in so many ways. that i clueless as to how to become who i want to be.
im laughing. im making friends. and rekindling old ones.
thank God for foundations. for new beginnings.
for a hope.
its hardest to truly live when we most need to do just that. times to truly live never present themselves as easy situations. they’re the times that cost us emotionally. they wound us, berate us, belittle us. those are the times that scream for us to grasp, cleave to life and not let go.
so often though, its nearly impossible for us to hear ourselves think above the din of all that consumes us. much less hear the scream, the utter cry from within, for us to truly live.
life is like blogging. or writing anything for that matter. i find it hardest to write when i really want to say something. when something is eating me alive and i need to get it onto paper… those are the times when my fingers stand idle. my thoughts, a jumbled mess of confusion and my dreams of anything cohesive, well.. they’re just that – dreams.
in the midst of the whirlwind of chaos, confusion and dreams of cohesiveness lie the pieces of life. life very rarely is handed to us complete. most of us, if we’re honest with ourselves, are wondering, wandering and stumbling across this land finding pieces that are slowly fitting together. they’re beginning to take shape. something is emerging. in the middle of this chaos, we pickup the pieces of our hearts, realize we’re leaving our fears behind, and we find out who we truly are.
in the midst of the whirlwind, we find life.
silence is both beautiful and breathtaking; and terrible and controlling.
its in the moments of silence that we are forced to listen to the things we try to hard to cover. its those monets we are made to sit down and look ourselves. its in those moments of silence we realize who we are. we realize our dreams… or realize where we lost them.
we realize who our friends are, and we realize those who may not fit into that mold anymore. we see the roads we need to walk, and we see who may walk with us, and who wont.
and if we’re brave… we welcome the silence. if we are willing to tear our eyes from the gloss and glitter we frantically attempt to distract ourselves with, and seriously look at what stares us in the face, we see the things we didnt want to see. we see whats real. whats true. whats here, now and whats not.
we hurt. we cry. we question. for some of us, we know this road. we’ve walked it before. we know the pain that it will bring. we know that this path brings fire and we know that fire burns. we bear the scars of having walked similar roads before. they are our battle wounds. and for most of us, we are fiercly proud of having lived through the hell that was that road. we may not look towards the next step on that road with happieness, but there is a joy in the pain.
as enraptured in the pain as we may be, we know that these moments, these times of silence, are always orchestrated by the master conductor. and no matter the pain we feel now, our tears will blend together into the beautiful symphony that is going to be our lives.
we welcome the silence. because in silence we change. we become less of who we are and more of who we want to be.
FindingTheCourageToDream.com 