Scary Close

i think this perfectly embodies why i want to write, why i love to read, how i want to live and why donald miller is my favorite.

the wholeness of life//ballast & rudder

disclaimer: i had difficulty titling this post.  the truth is, this is one i've been chipping away at for weeks.  it has remained amongst a plethora of drafts because it hadn't found its true meaning until today.  it started just as the wholeness of life when one thought had set itself afire all the way to my heart.  then it turned into ballast and rudder because of a beautiful analogy our pastor presented at church last week.  and lastly, today i add prayer and love, simple words that they are, but necessary to add for the full meaning of this post to be realized.

i thought about this year's resolutions very carefully.

i pondered and prayed about what 2015 should look like for me.  how might i grow?  how might i impact the world around me?  what can i learn?

and so, gumption came to me. rather than the other way around.  there it was.  perfectly packaged and presented.

this is it, i thought to myself.

my perfect guidance for the new year.  i was getting affirmations everywhere, so i plugged away at how i might live gumptiously.

last year, wholeheartedly was it.  and i found it was a hurtful word to carry on with.  it was a good kind of pain; a necessary hurt, for it made me realize and feel things i had long suppressed.

but so far, i am a bit at a loss as to how gumption has guided and will guide 2015.  i have found myself grasping for it blindly...trying to figure its way in to the moments that seem to call for it.  however, when the moments arise that seem to demand i find i have no words or the words seem to come out all wrong.  i find i am shrinking back instead of standing up.  i've even resorted to hiding at my worst.

and truly, i think now, almost two months in, i realize why this is.
my life lacks its most foundational guidance.

prayer.

a life that lacks prayer is a life that is rudderless.

my life without consistent, conscious prayer is a life that lacks direction, or in fact is going in every wayward direction.

but my life with prayer is like a ballast to a boat.

it is what gives balance, stability and weight to my life.  i am not usually one for boat analogies but this seemed to make the most sense to me recently.

a boat cannot do its job without a rudder and a ballast.  these two things are the essence of the boat's security and strength as well as direction and control.

they are akin to prayer and love in my own life.

without prayer i am lost.
i used to somehow manage to get by.  (all still by God's grace)
but consciously no longer can i.

as lent has begun (though as a church community we begin tomorrow) everyone is speaking of what they're giving up.  and it is good.  i'm all for it.  but i've spent many lents giving things up only to recall that which i gave up...not what the giving up brought me.

this year, i am focusing on what i am giving into.  and that is prayer.  there are many things i am too afraid to pray for.  there are many things i've stopped praying for because it has seemed that God has been rather silent on the matters.  there are things i do not ask for and there are people i have yet to pray for.

this convicts and plagues my heart.  a follower of jesus, as i call myself, is called to prayer...to pray...in each moment.

i am humbled by figures like brother lawrence, henri nouwen, andrew murray, and models in my own life who devote themselves to not only prayer but something much deeper; living a praying life.

so my thick focus for lent, for this leap of faith season, is this: to seek Him first. to seek Him in and through prayer.  on my knees.  daily.  praying for specific things, praying for hard things, praying for that which i've been too afraid to pray of before now.

out from prayer grows love
prayer is the wholeness of life
ballast and rudder

love//the words

you sat next to me.  it was something small to you, but it was something ever so large to me.  you sat next to me.  i sighed with relief.  i kept finding ways, small ways, to look at you.  to see your face, to watch your focus, to feel your warmth.  i crossed my legs and tilted my gaze so that you were in my peripheral.  i opened my journal and i wrote.  you opened your book and you read.  and i thought to myself, everyday could be like this.

it was a lofty thought.  to consider this, me and you, what we could be...forever.  forever.

and sometimes it felt like more than forever.  it was those moments, scattered as they were, that you were aware of me.  that you felt with me.  that you listened to me. that you called me.  that you waited for me.  that you sat with me.

it was profound.  it changed me. for the better, than for the worst, but ultimately for the better.

i remember you said, "you get too pensive."
i do, i thought, i do.
you didn't like that i had to stop to ponder so much.  you didn't like that we could never finish an argument without me taking a pause.  you didn't like when i said today needs to be me alone.  you didn't like it.

you were okay when it was you, not choosing to be alone, but rather to be with someone else.  that was okay.  that made sense.  but my need to be alone, that always confused you.

in the end: i gave myself away.
i changed for you.  i thought i could become exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed, but it wasn't enough.  it wasn't okay.  not for you and not for me.

did you change for me?  did i cause you to do the things you did, to make the choices you did, the ones that hurt me, the ones you knew would hurt me?  did you understand the power you held over me?

it doesn't matter now, but i wonder if you did.  often i wondered.  it plagued me like a recurring illness.

but eventually, time stepped in, enough of it, for the redundancy of a thought to finally dwindle to non-existent

i remember texting you when i was on a bus in queens.  it was the first time i felt together in awhile.
do you remember what i wrote?

of course not.  it's probably a long deleted, or old archived conversation, far too brief to hold any importance for you.

all you said was, thanks.

i remember.  as soon as i read it, i deleted it. it said enough to help me to finally let go.

i'm so happy for you. 

those were the words that should have come months before, but couldn't find their way to you, not authentically anyhow.

our story is long over, but its effects remain deep.  we've both moved on in different ways.  and it's good.  really good.  if i held the pen to the story i always think, haughtily so, that i could have done a better job.

but i am wrong.  i never could.

i long ago gave up the idea of holding the pen.

today i was reminded that the surrendering of control is a good thing.

i realized it when you said hello..
it was perfect.
i recognized it when you pressed into my life, when you showed you cared.
i'd never come up with those words.
i couldn't have written that any better.  really, i couldn't have.

it is, for whatever it is or may be, the beginning of everything.

on loss//a prayer of hope

 "how do the geese know when to fly to the sun?

who tells them the seasons?

how do we, humans know when it is time to move on?

as with the migrant birds, so surely with us,

there is a voice within, if only we would listen to it

that tells us so certainly to go forth

into the unknown."

~Elizabeth Kubler Ross

loss requires perspective.
i think perspective comes with and through time and separation from the loss.
but sometimes loss doesn't happen in one fell swoop, rather it comes as a season with good and bad moments and then can hang on like a habit that cannot be broken. it is most definitely a long and arduous process, one in which there is no other way around but through.  and some losses will hang with us forever.

but in that there is beauty to be held in the loss.  there are memories and fondness that can ease the pain.  what is most wonderful and lovely in loss is that it brings out a hunger for heaven.  it stirs a desire for hope that is true and lasting.  and it is a reminder that our lives are more than this.  our lives are meant to be defined by much, much more than the losses that accumulate.

sometimes loss is worn like an unremovable label...they lost their child, she lost her husband, his parents abandoned him.  sometimes those losses become a part of you whether you like it or not.  sometimes they must define every next step.  sometimes those losses and the way you carry yourselves through and after lift you up to be a beacon of hope for others.

then there are the other losses.  i wouldn't dare call them smaller, they are just "other".  one can lose a grandparent, and those sorts of losses are not entirely unexpected.  for we learn with old age, death is rather inevitable.  then there are the losses of beloved pets.  expected or not, they can be equally difficult to walk through.  then there is the death of a dream, the loss of a job, friendship or even expectations.  all of which hold their own pain.

the question loss begs is, when is it time to move on?  not forget, but forge a new path...when is it time to go forth and chase after a new dream?  when is it the time to remarry?  to have another kid, to get a new pet?

lately, life is scattered with little losses.  i can assess the size of my own because i know how they feel when i sit with them and hold them in my hands.  i feel their weight and though they are not great in size, the depth of their pain is real.  they are losses i can certainly move on from.  they are losses that remind me life is a both/and experience rather than an either/or.

moving on requires a direction, and i find that it is the direction that is unknown.  and the unknown, right now, feels like the greatest hardship amidst the losses.  the unknown, instead of feeling expansive in nature actually feels quite limiting.  and as soon as i recognized the limits that i felt, i realized i was losing hope. and the loss of hope is not a loss i can bear.  it wasn't even an all encompassing loss of hope, but rather a gradual loss that showed itself when it finally came to writing down the possibilities of new directions.  i couldn't see past the way in which i've let these recent losses define me. 

so i lay these losses at the Lord's feet.  i give Him this 'unbeknownst to me', direction.  He knows.   when i am feeling a sense of lost hope i know with great certainty i am at the very least headed in the wrong direction.  so i trust, i must trust, He knows.

so, tomorrow, Lord willing, i will awake, and i will rise and my feet will touch the ground and i will walk forward, pressing into the day, dreaming and living in unknown directions. i may not know what the next day holds, but He does.  and His direction for me is saturated in hope.

Lord, let us not lose sight of You.  You who holds Hope in His hands.  Help us to rely on and rest in You.  Draw us, our dreams and desires, our losses and heartbreak to You, the only true Hope.  thank you that (as scary as it is) we can go forth into the unknown, trusting (not always seeing) that you truly are guiding each step.  as we take these quiet, sometimes trepid steps toward your lead, may we come to know You more intimately, knowing that you too bear our losses. may we find the comfort of peace that you offer us so graciously. 

gumption//word of 2015

how gumption came to me was rather coincidental.  i was looking for a word like gumption, but at first i didn't like the way it sounded.  words, they must sound good, no? especially when that is a word you are counting on to define and guide a whole year of your life.  gumption to me, at first sound, seemed sort of a dumb, odd choice.  it's not a word that rolls off the tongue with ease. nor is it pretty.  it doesn't bring to mind a beautiful image.  nevertheless, i have no doubt that it is my word, rather my theme for 2015.

gumption demonstrates a certain strength and tenacity just in how it sounds.  it is the word that best defines my efforts, desires and dreams for 2015.

a few days before Christmas, as is tradition, i watched the holiday while wrapping gifts.   and surprisingly, unlike any previous viewing this scene stood out to me:

iris has always been the more relatable character for me, of the two leading ladies (something about those kate winslet kind of girls).

this time around i really saw this scene as the most important part of the movie, in my humble opinion.  more than seeing her fall in love, more than seeing any other character's kind of happily ever after, you just want to see her stick up for herself and tell jasper where to stick it.

and she does.
beautifully.

and you see, this is what i want in many sorts of ways.  the gumption (spunk, spirited initiative, courage, cleverness, nerve, sass...) to stand up, to speak up, to shut up, to write it down, to share it, to pray it, to believe it, to fight for it, to just finally say it.  to not let it go.  to not pretend it doesn't bother me.  to not say no when i really mean yes and vice versa.

gumption lived out is strong.  gumption lived out looks tenacious and acts boldly.  gumption to me, bridges the gap to 2014 because it in many ways also conveys my wholehearted approach to life and all that i do.  i believe gumption is feminine and i believe gumption is God-given. 

i don't characterize my goals and drive for 2015 to be wholly gumptious. i know i can't be and won't always be.  there will be situations that call for it and i will not step up.  maybe because i am afraid, or i am tired, or maybe at that point in time, i just won't care.  and my false self will say i failed and i am no good...but hopefully, i will realize this is not true.  i will instead pray and i will remind myself, that this here, this year i have been given, this word in my heart is to remind me to try.  it is to encourage me to be more and to say what wants and needs to be said.

gumption, i believe, is what God is calling me to be and live in such a way.  it is the word inscribed in my heart as it is in its current state.  prior to this, about midway through 2014, brave was the word that rested heavy on my heart.  to be brave. however, i questioned it often.  because brave to me is rather vague or at the very least an overused term that seems to lose its meaning as a result of misuse.  if anything, i think gumption is a component of bravery.  it is not bravery, but rather a piece that i need/long to learn to live out.  i believe gumption is the vocal piece of bravery.  and one thing i can say with certainty is that i don't think i'm to be quiet anymore.  it's time to speak...write...and respond.

so,  2015, 4 days in...
let's pray, and let's take small steps, and some bigger leaps and let's be gumptious.

on home//finding life that is not in places or things

"writing is both mask and unveiling."//e.b. white

 found here

my own space is important.  i have to have a small part of this world that feels like home. but what is home to me varies.  sometimes it is the literal space i find myself driving to everyday after work.  and though that place may vary and the people i am living with change, a part of home is that roof you live your life under, where you lay your head each night.

however, i am learning that home is more than just that.  they say, "home is wear the heart is,"and i truly believe this familiar quote to be most certainly true.  which therefore means i find my home in so very many places.  a friend of mine jokes that i heart too many things.  and it's true.  whenever we're driving together i definitely overuse the phrase, "i love this song."  but i do, i love many songs!  i find feelings, hope, joy, solace...in many, many songs.

my family and friends, they, of course, have pieces and parts of my heart.  they are the ones i would go to the ends of the earth for.  and as much as i may say i hate the overuse of the word love, there is something to it when i say i love this or that.  i have deep affection and will give great attention to those things i say i love.  i love people, things and places because in part of what they offer me, but also because it is in my nature to love and have affection, and demonstrate an appreciation for that which i say i love.  and what i love is my heart, and where my heart is, there i do find my home.
 
i love audrey hepburn films, live music outdoors, the sound of a violin, the voice of etta james, making lists and checking things off...i love my church, i adore owls, i am enamored with beautiful handbags, a new dress, a british accent, colorful picture frames, mint green...i have great fondness for binge watching gilmore girls, reading judy blume books, tom hiddleston's smile, the humor of mindy kaling, the sound of the pacific ocean, a charming pencil sharpener, all things kate spade...i have a great attachment to the beauty of land, the smell of of suntan lotion and a good taco...and in someway, i find that all of these things/experiences/places, as fleeting or sustaining as they may be they offer a home to me in some way.
 that home is a sense of comfort, inspiration and enjoyment.

my bedroom is basically a place for thousands, yes thousands of books to live.  every single wall is lined with bookshelves, and every single shelf is sagging with books.  in these stories, i find a home.  i make friends with the characters.  i enjoy living in their shoes for awhile.  i laugh with them, i love with them, i cry with them, i hope with them.  books, in and of themselves, their binding and smell, the way they are decorated, the feel of the pages, i find, are a piece of my home.

home is found in nature.  it is found in the glory of God's creation.  it is uncovered through the mountains and the oceans, through a sky full of stars, and the morning light just before the sun has fully risen.  i find when i enter into the vast natural world around me, where trees and grass are in abundance, where wild life can be clearly seen, where flowers bloom, and the skies are vast, here is where i experience God most intimately, here is a taste, i think, of my heavenly home.

home is an a dog, who i believe found me, rather than the other way around.  she came into my life when i needed her most, and she understands the emotional terrain she walks with me in day by day.  she is attentive to the mood and she is who i need her to be.  her affection and appreciation for me makes me want to be the person she thinks i am.  she has my heart, in a way, more than i thought an animal of all things ever could.  perhaps, that is only something one says before they have children...and maybe it makes me crazy, but that's okay, she is my home.

what i've discovered over the past two years though, more than all of these people, places, experiences and things, home is found in words.  words in song, words in conversation, words on a page, the words the meld together out of my own creativity and thinking.  these words, they are my home.  if i am lucky, i will always have words.  putting words to page is so vastly important to me right now.  if i had to pick one thing i could do, spend 40 hours of my week invested in, it would be this: the typing of the keys, the putting pen to page, the filling up my tanks, and then letting out what needs to be said. 

it really doesn't matter to me the amount of readers...the act and art of writing is more about self-care and nurturing my creativity.  it is more about not going insane.  it is definitely not about perfection. 
i would rather be poor in money, but rich in words. 
writing is what i am committing myself to in 2015. 
my efforts thus far have been sporadic at best.  so now, i have a plan.  if home is where words are, then this is where i want to find myself as often as possible.  giving heart and attention to these words that ask and sometimes demand to be written down and spoken. 
if home is a place you find yourself every day for hours on end...
then writing is my true home//my life that is not in place or thing.

a wholehearted reflection//2014

i miss video stores.  i've been thinking about this a lot lately.  i miss the days of walking into a blockbuster, video discount, or hollywood video and renting a movie.  there was so much enjoyment that held for me.  it was always the last stop on a day of errands, or i'd swing in after a late class, or a long shift and i would linger.

i remember the smells vividly, like a mix of burnt popcorn, cardboard and metal.  it was an odd mix of aromas and while not totally pleasant, i found it was soothing in a way.

i would walk down the aisles, perusing movie titles and reading the backs of rental cases that i found particularly intriguing.  i would seek out movies that weren't based on friend's recommendations, or critic's commentaries, but wholly based on simply what my eyes were drawn to.  a man standing under bright moonlight in the middle of a baseball field...a woman's tortured expression amidst darkness and a sinister gentleman standing off in the distance, a man's proud smile gazing towards a pensive child sitting at a desk...it was the images that told me i wanted to know these characters and their stories.  i would often ignore the titles and allow the people and the settings to speak for themselves.

by the time i'd get to the last aisle i would have 6 or 7 dvd's in tow and then be faced with the great task of narrowing down a solid selection to one or two to watch that evening.  once i decided i would return the other titles to their rightful place and hopefully i would come upon them on the next visit.  i never wrote anything down or made lists.  i just wanted my heart to guide the choosing.  and more often than not, i would be pleasantly surprised.  sometimes i watched stories unfold that got completely under my skin.  and those became the stories i would own to watch again and share with others.

i spent years collecting these experiences.  mostly in solitude.  on occasion i would share this with someone, but i found that most people aren't as open in their movie watching experiences.  they have to know someone, or find out what someone else thought, or be guaranteed two hours of jam packed action and thrills to actually fork over the $2 or so dollars to rent something.

but i liked the surprise element.  i liked that this was one aspect of my life i could leave to chance. the consequences were nothing other than a less than thrilling hour or two.

but i think that this is what life needs.  life demands a little more openness to new experiences and a little less judgment based on a solitary perspective.   for me, living a year wholeheartedly meant being open to pursuing things unabashedly, unashamed of the passion that i felt.

last night i fell asleep with the rushing of rain hitting against my window.  i let myself lay in silence (which is rare) but i am finding more and more necessary.  i stayed awake well into my regular sleeping hours and i allowed myself to think on my day, on the stirrings in my heart, and the people down the hall and across town, and in the cities just north of here, and those that are states away.  and i let myself feel the longings for those whom i missed, for the way that relationships change over the passing of years, and the heavy pangs that sometimes press in for those that are now gone.

sometimes these pains, these longings, and even this fullness of heart demands to be felt.  sometimes i may just decide they need to be noticed and given attention.  i cannot and will not let years, months, even days go by without noticing, without giving reverence to what my heart is saying.

i miss riding the f train into manhattan and exploring the magic of the city i so longed for many years to live in and see.  that city and its culture catapults my thoughts into dreams.  it still holds something for me.  i don't know if it is a life or just another visit.  i am trying to listen to my heart on that one and not be hindered by the cliche of such a dream.  it takes sitting with it, sharing it, and praying it to begin to know what to do with it and whether it calls for a wholehearted pursuit.

dating was precarious at best. i was risky and took some chances which only seemed to lead down a path of hurt.  dating as a full-grown adult is quite a slippery road to walk down and at times even a perilous experience, especially when one is trying to do all things wholeheartedly.  what i do know is when i finally meet the man i choose to spend the rest of my life with it will mean so much more for every holiday photo taken alone, it will mean more for all the years when i learned to do things on my own, it will mean more for the life i've learned to maneuver on my own.  for the many times i've thought i am too far gone to allow space and room for another...it will mean so much more.

2014 was a year that required faith and asking big questions about that faith and church.  2014 meant realizing that life requires more than just wholehearted attempts to give my all to everything i did.  2014 was about walking with friends as they entered into motherhood, standing with friends on their wedding day, praying and crying and laughing with friends facing infertility and cancer diagnoses.  2014 was the year i realized that relationships aren't built overnight.  i realized that while community is an authentic God-given desire, cultivating one is almost impossible.  i thought, perhaps in vain, if i just loved and gave of myself wholeheartedly it would be enough, but truly it never was.  that isn't to say it wasn't worthwhile or without its meaning...it just wasn't everything i though it was going to be.  but that is life isn't it?

disappointment is a part of it all.  it always is when we have expectations.

but in spite of that, i enjoyed so much of this year.  life was a mixed bag of experiences and events.  it was the year of new restaurants, great books, reunion concerts, having your tweet favorited by a celebrity, grocery store pick-up lines, puppy dates, discovering the good wife and it becoming an obsession, deciding on a second tattoo, battling worry and fear in a hardcore way, hugging brett eldredge, paying off a student loan, sharing the most vulnerable parts of my heart with some unexpected people and learning to accept the both/and aspects of life and what is gracefully and joyfully.

this was the year i will look back on as truly bittersweet.
as the calendar turns and tomorrow begins a new chapter, i feel not quite ready to shut the door on 2014.  i believe so much of what was learned and experienced this year are necessary to hold onto and carry with me a little closer. it sometimes feels as though i am on the cusp of a great self-revelation.  so i am holding tighter than i usually do.  perhaps what i've learned and experienced will directly impact what 2015 holds. 

and so i await with great anticipation what the turn of the calendar has in store for all of us.