So, I was walking around campus yesterday and it struck me that this is my last semester here. I won't be returning next fall. I will probably never again wander across campus to the library to print things off, or to the DC for dinner. I will no longer trudge to the Business Office to pay my bills or to the church for chapel. This is it: the end.
A lot of people have told me over the last five years that "these are the best days of your life" and "the time will fly by and you'll miss it." I didn't understand until now. Not that these have been the best years of my life, I hope they get better, but the years have flown by and I can't believe all that I have experienced during my time here.
I made lasting friendships that I know I will keep until I die. I traveled to Cambodia. I was stretched and challenged and learned a lot about myself. God healed a lot of my heart during these years.
I think... I think I will miss my time here. I am ready to be done with school and enter a world where I no longer have to attend new classes every four months, and have 100s of pages of reading to do each night. I am ready to know something other than formalized education, namely a steady job. Yet, in spite of my desire to move on I realize now how much God has blessed me during these years with so many things. It will be scary to move on into a world I am not comfortable with. Stepping out of this safety net into the lion's den.
I am not sure when, but somewhere in the last two months I changed... a lot. I am mysteriously different than I was last November. I can't put my finger on exactly what or when, but I know something changed. I see things differently now.
I am not afraid of people for one. It wasn't hard for me to lower my head and ignore others and think I wasn't good enough for anyone to want to talk to. Now I find myself more confident, raising my head and smiling at strangers as I pass them on the sidewalk. In my classes, peers I once thought so much better than me I can now talk to without fear of their judgment. Not sure where the confidence came from or why I am no longer afraid, but I like it.
I guess better late than never. In just a few short months I will be in a place where I don't know anyone and I will have to build relationships from scratch again. I think I can do it. Maybe this is the one last thing God wants to teach me before I leave this place. Actually there are probably a few things left for Him to teach me, but this one will for sure take a lot of practice.
It is amazing how nostalgia always sets in before things ever even end. I will be so sad all semester, but then when graduation comes I won't be able to cry...
Bittersweet... so glad to leave, so sad I cannot stay.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Metacognition
There are a thousand different reasons why I might be struggling with depression: chemical imbalances or an inability to deal with stress to name just a couple. I have no idea why I have to deal with this particular demon, but for the past 10 years I have had to.
The constant hatred for my own life was destroying me. Yet, in some weird way I was able to adjust to this mindset. It was like there are two different minds in my head. One is always mulling over the bad. The other is always trying to point out the good and the truth of my life. I think the bad mind is my own. I think the other mind is God's Spirit keeping me alive.
I recently went on meds to fight the depression. Yet, an unexpected side effect I seem to be having is an inability to process new information. My mind was always working before. I would always be thinking, trying to figure things out. I could never just let anything go. Now, it is like all new information just hits a brick wall and I can't bring it into consciousness without a lot of effort.
I'm not sure I like this turn of events. There were times, sure, when I wanted my brain to slow down and just let stuff go. Now, though... I realize that I had adjusted to thinking like that. It is hard to readjust to quietness in my skull.
The quietness is a little scary. But scarier still is that I keep getting bombarded with things I need to figure out. I need to decide a career in just a few short months. I need to deal with the sin in my life in the area of not being satisfied with what God has given me. I need to be open to God speaking because it seems like I have no idea what His will is when I pray (I always seem to get the opposite of what I pray for). Yet, all these things I can't hold in consciousness long enough to work through them.
Maybe this is what most people have to deal with: faith that God will work it out without them figuring it out in their heads first. Who knows... but it is not like I didn't have to rely on faith before - I had to cling so close to God's grace because if I let go I would literally die.
I have always known that the only reason I am alive for each breath I take is God's desire for me to fulfill His purpose first. I have no idea what that is, but if He withdrew His hand from my life I would cease to breath.
I don't know where this whole thing will go, or any of the other ways I will need to readjust. I can only hold on to hope that God will come through as He always has and show me what I need to do. Until then, frustration and fear are the spoilers of the day.
Dear God, please act soon!
The constant hatred for my own life was destroying me. Yet, in some weird way I was able to adjust to this mindset. It was like there are two different minds in my head. One is always mulling over the bad. The other is always trying to point out the good and the truth of my life. I think the bad mind is my own. I think the other mind is God's Spirit keeping me alive.
I recently went on meds to fight the depression. Yet, an unexpected side effect I seem to be having is an inability to process new information. My mind was always working before. I would always be thinking, trying to figure things out. I could never just let anything go. Now, it is like all new information just hits a brick wall and I can't bring it into consciousness without a lot of effort.
I'm not sure I like this turn of events. There were times, sure, when I wanted my brain to slow down and just let stuff go. Now, though... I realize that I had adjusted to thinking like that. It is hard to readjust to quietness in my skull.
The quietness is a little scary. But scarier still is that I keep getting bombarded with things I need to figure out. I need to decide a career in just a few short months. I need to deal with the sin in my life in the area of not being satisfied with what God has given me. I need to be open to God speaking because it seems like I have no idea what His will is when I pray (I always seem to get the opposite of what I pray for). Yet, all these things I can't hold in consciousness long enough to work through them.
Maybe this is what most people have to deal with: faith that God will work it out without them figuring it out in their heads first. Who knows... but it is not like I didn't have to rely on faith before - I had to cling so close to God's grace because if I let go I would literally die.
I have always known that the only reason I am alive for each breath I take is God's desire for me to fulfill His purpose first. I have no idea what that is, but if He withdrew His hand from my life I would cease to breath.
I don't know where this whole thing will go, or any of the other ways I will need to readjust. I can only hold on to hope that God will come through as He always has and show me what I need to do. Until then, frustration and fear are the spoilers of the day.
Dear God, please act soon!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Love and Loss
Her name was Maxine. She was born on October 4, 1995. I thought she was beautiful and full of spunk. I asked my parents if she could be mine. And, at 9 years old, I owned my very own calf. My name would be on the registration forms and everything. She ended up being one of my very best friends.
I used to love animals. They were intelligent, loving, and would listen without judgment when I just needed to get something off my chest. Now, where there was once love is a black hole of hurt. Maxine and so many others were ripped from my hands all too soon.
There is a saying that goes, "it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I disagree most of the time, but in rare instances I can see what he was saying. I wouldn't trade my time with Maxine for anything in the world. But I would rather not ever really love again to keep from losing and hurting this much ever again.
It is hard to explain to people how much I loved Maxine. I mean, to everyone else she was just some dirty, stupid cow. But to me, she was a very close friend. Her eyes were alive, and I knew what she was thinking just by looking into her eyes. I still miss her so much it hurts. Whenever I think about her or picture her face I begin crying again.
December 20, 2002 - my 17th birthday - all the cows on my farm were loaded up into trucks and moved to another farm an hour away. The sales transaction was complete. Maxine was on one of those trucks.
I died inside.
This morning I went down to the barn to feed the cats, and I saw that one of the kittens who had been sick didn't make it through the night. I was sad for this poor animal, but my mind immediately went to Maxine and how much I hate losing these beautiful creatures.
A great deal of my pain in life comes from losing these wonderful animals and friends. Most people can't understand why, but I try to explain it this way: "Have you ever lost 150 of your closest friends all at the same time? Well, when you have to endure that, then you will know how badly I hurt inside." That is no exaggeration, honest.
No wonder so many years later I am still grieving.
God told me once that every tear I cry heals one more piece of my broken heart. I have cried so much through the years that I am amazed by how many pieces my heart is in. And there is still so much hurt left to heal.
I have no idea if animals end up in Heaven. If they do...I hope Maxine is there waiting for me. If not, then Jesus is going to have to hold me for a long time, wiping tears from my eyes...
I miss you, Maxine. You will always be a part of me.
I used to love animals. They were intelligent, loving, and would listen without judgment when I just needed to get something off my chest. Now, where there was once love is a black hole of hurt. Maxine and so many others were ripped from my hands all too soon.
There is a saying that goes, "it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I disagree most of the time, but in rare instances I can see what he was saying. I wouldn't trade my time with Maxine for anything in the world. But I would rather not ever really love again to keep from losing and hurting this much ever again.
It is hard to explain to people how much I loved Maxine. I mean, to everyone else she was just some dirty, stupid cow. But to me, she was a very close friend. Her eyes were alive, and I knew what she was thinking just by looking into her eyes. I still miss her so much it hurts. Whenever I think about her or picture her face I begin crying again.
December 20, 2002 - my 17th birthday - all the cows on my farm were loaded up into trucks and moved to another farm an hour away. The sales transaction was complete. Maxine was on one of those trucks.
I died inside.
This morning I went down to the barn to feed the cats, and I saw that one of the kittens who had been sick didn't make it through the night. I was sad for this poor animal, but my mind immediately went to Maxine and how much I hate losing these beautiful creatures.
A great deal of my pain in life comes from losing these wonderful animals and friends. Most people can't understand why, but I try to explain it this way: "Have you ever lost 150 of your closest friends all at the same time? Well, when you have to endure that, then you will know how badly I hurt inside." That is no exaggeration, honest.
No wonder so many years later I am still grieving.
God told me once that every tear I cry heals one more piece of my broken heart. I have cried so much through the years that I am amazed by how many pieces my heart is in. And there is still so much hurt left to heal.
I have no idea if animals end up in Heaven. If they do...I hope Maxine is there waiting for me. If not, then Jesus is going to have to hold me for a long time, wiping tears from my eyes...
I miss you, Maxine. You will always be a part of me.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Winter Wonder
This morning I woke up and looked out the window to see everything covered in snow. The trees were absolutely gorgeous! Everything was glistening in the sunlight. I was reminded once again why I love snow so much.
It grieves my heart to listen to the constant complaining of the cold weather, icy roads, and desire for spring to arrive soon. I love winter! I love the purity that covers everything. I never wish it away. Yes, there are days when I wish it was warmer, and when I get stuck in snow drifts and have to walk home, I wish the wind didn't blow so hard.
But snow is still one of my most treasured gifts. Quite a few years ago (sometime in jr. high or high school) I remember the fall being warm and no snow had fallen as of the middle of December. With my birthday just days away I for some reason desperately wanted it to snow. I always enjoyed playing in the snow and building tunnels in the ditches, and snow forts...
So, I asked God for a specific birthday gift. I wanted it to snow on my birthday. Up to the day before there was no snow, and not likely to be any according to the weather forecasters, but I had hope.
When I woke up on my birthday morning to look out the window I was so overcome with joy that I couldn't speak. Snow was covering the ground, but you could still see some green, but it was still snowing. Big fluffy flakes that quickly immerse everything in a snowy blanket. I was so humbled and yet happy that God would give me such a beautiful birthday gift.
Every year since then I have asked God for snow on my birthday. And as far as I can remember, every year except one I have been granted that gift. I feel silly at times asking God for such a strange birthday gift, but for some reason I don't understand, snow appeals to me deep in my heart. I love it....
One thing I have always found joy in is God's creation. I love to look out my window any time of year and just look at the trees, the birds, the clouds lazily drifting through a perfectly blue sky. I am always amazed at the sheer beauty that God created. Snow is so beautiful to me. I guess it represents hope and beauty in spite of the sleeping deadness underneath.
Today is a perfect day.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
This is God's Day
When I was a kid, one of my favorite hymns was This is the Day. The words were very simple:
This is the day, this is the day
That the Lord has made, that the Lord has made
I will rejoice, I will rejoice
And be glad in it, and be glad in it
This is the day that the Lord has made
I will rejoice and be glad in it
This is the day, this is the day
That the Lord has made.
I would sing it all the time in and out of church. However, somewhere in the years between then and now I forgot the message of rejoicing in this day God has given me to live in.
A couple weeks ago I was watching a video of Otto Koning. He was preaching about how when bad things happen and we don't know what to do, we should rejoice. It goes so completely against the grain, but is exactly what we should do when trials come.
As I sat there watching and listening three things occurred to me. First, that I don't rejoice. Second, I realized that I just don't have it in me to do so. I am not strong enough to praise God when my life is a mess. Then, as if God Himself spoke the Truth to me, I realized that of course I don't have the strength to rejoice. It has to be the Spirit of God in me. I am not sure where in the Bible (somewhere in I or II Corinthians) it says this - but I know it does - a person cannot praise God unless the Spirit is in him or her.
That final epiphany was a weight off my shoulders. So, in the past couple days as I have been battling a series of relationship issues and a migraine, I have been asking God to help me rejoice. To praise Him for Who He is and for all He has done for me.
It's hard, but lessons like this take time to sink in and enter my everyday actions.
A couple months ago I heard this song by Lincoln Brewster: Today is the Day. It took me back to my childhood and the old hymn I used to love. The message is the same: today I am alive for God's purposes; so I need to praise Him for this breath in my lungs right now.
This is the day, this is the day
That the Lord has made, that the Lord has made
I will rejoice, I will rejoice
And be glad in it, and be glad in it
This is the day that the Lord has made
I will rejoice and be glad in it
This is the day, this is the day
That the Lord has made.
I would sing it all the time in and out of church. However, somewhere in the years between then and now I forgot the message of rejoicing in this day God has given me to live in.
A couple weeks ago I was watching a video of Otto Koning. He was preaching about how when bad things happen and we don't know what to do, we should rejoice. It goes so completely against the grain, but is exactly what we should do when trials come.
As I sat there watching and listening three things occurred to me. First, that I don't rejoice. Second, I realized that I just don't have it in me to do so. I am not strong enough to praise God when my life is a mess. Then, as if God Himself spoke the Truth to me, I realized that of course I don't have the strength to rejoice. It has to be the Spirit of God in me. I am not sure where in the Bible (somewhere in I or II Corinthians) it says this - but I know it does - a person cannot praise God unless the Spirit is in him or her.
That final epiphany was a weight off my shoulders. So, in the past couple days as I have been battling a series of relationship issues and a migraine, I have been asking God to help me rejoice. To praise Him for Who He is and for all He has done for me.
It's hard, but lessons like this take time to sink in and enter my everyday actions.
A couple months ago I heard this song by Lincoln Brewster: Today is the Day. It took me back to my childhood and the old hymn I used to love. The message is the same: today I am alive for God's purposes; so I need to praise Him for this breath in my lungs right now.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Good Enough
Why is it that one little remark can stop me dead in my tracks and make me feel like I am just not good enough?
Tonight I was out with some friends whom I haven't hung out with for a while and we were just playing Euchre and having fun. I may (or may not) have said a couple things that sounded a little rough around the edges - I don't really know since I am so used to and comfortable with who I am in that regard - and then my one friend made some comment about me being a little crass with my language. I replied with something to the effect of, "well that's what I am around all the time" (referring to the interesting and colorful language of a vast majority of the teens whom I work with).
The language doesn't bother me, but I keep forgetting that sometimes it bothers other people.
The point is, as I drove away tonight it kept bugging me why I was so concerned with what others thought of me. I mean, I have my failures and imperfections. I screw up and I know my bad habitual sins. And I wish I could fix those things in my life. Yet, I am, for the most part, content with who I am. I know who I am at least and am satisfied to remain me until God decides to change me.
Yet, for some reason I want to be good enough in others' eyes. I want them to like me and all that crap. Hmmm... so stupid really. Why does it matter what my friends think of me? Or anyone for that matter? I am ok with me; and it really doesn't matter what others' opinions of me are.
But I still keep trying to be good enough... even when its apparent I'm not...
Guess they'll just have to get over it and accept me for who I am. Cause I'm not changing anytime soon...
Tonight I was out with some friends whom I haven't hung out with for a while and we were just playing Euchre and having fun. I may (or may not) have said a couple things that sounded a little rough around the edges - I don't really know since I am so used to and comfortable with who I am in that regard - and then my one friend made some comment about me being a little crass with my language. I replied with something to the effect of, "well that's what I am around all the time" (referring to the interesting and colorful language of a vast majority of the teens whom I work with).
The language doesn't bother me, but I keep forgetting that sometimes it bothers other people.
The point is, as I drove away tonight it kept bugging me why I was so concerned with what others thought of me. I mean, I have my failures and imperfections. I screw up and I know my bad habitual sins. And I wish I could fix those things in my life. Yet, I am, for the most part, content with who I am. I know who I am at least and am satisfied to remain me until God decides to change me.
Yet, for some reason I want to be good enough in others' eyes. I want them to like me and all that crap. Hmmm... so stupid really. Why does it matter what my friends think of me? Or anyone for that matter? I am ok with me; and it really doesn't matter what others' opinions of me are.
But I still keep trying to be good enough... even when its apparent I'm not...
Guess they'll just have to get over it and accept me for who I am. Cause I'm not changing anytime soon...
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Freedom
What is freedom? One dictionary definition is "exemption from external control". So... how exactly does that mesh with freedom in Christ? I mean, really... we go from being controlled by our sinful nature (which ironically is internal rather than external) to allowing ourselves to be controlled by a purely external source - God.
So, maybe freedom is exemption from internal control... but that just sounds like insanity - an inability to control our actions/thoughts. Therefore, that doesn't work either.
The reason I wonder about freedom is because it seems like we are never free. Something always has at least a partial control over us. I wonder if freedom has more to do with being able to choose what controls us: the ability to throw off oppressive controls to take on other controls. Except that would make us in control... which brings us back to the problem of our sinful nature. Wow... what an incredibly confusing circular argument.
The thing is I desire freedom from a lot of things: depression for one. I know there is something wrong with the way I think and perceive reality. It could be the best day of my life and I would still see all the negative aspects. I would still manage to be upset for whatever dumb reason was near at hand.
I have an intact family, wonderful friends, health, an almost-completed college education, ideas and dreams, prospects for post-graduation jobs, etc. So, how is it that each day I can wake up and not want to get out of bed? How can I still hate my life to the degree that I wished it over?
I know I try to justify my pessimism on the fact that "nothing gold can stay" (thanks, Robert Frost, for that wonderful line). No matter what great thing is happening in my life at any given moment, I have an uncanny ability to see that it will never last. That something bad will come eventually to ruin all joy.
Not a great way to live, but the truth is that after 10 years of trying to overcome this bleak outlook and attitude, I am still failing. When I awake to those days of depression and hopelessness there is really nothing I can do to escape.
I am not free.
I want to be free!
I have asked God to free me since I am supposed to find freedom and healing in Him. Yet, even as He has freed me partially with His presence and words, I am still prisoner to my mind.
And yet, even if I am freed... what then? Like a bird who has been caged for its whole life, I would have no idea what to do if the cage were to be taken away.
I am going to visit a doctor soon to perhaps go on anti-depressant medication. My greatest fear is not that the medication won't work. My fear is that it will. I will be free.
Freedom is scary. It also gives me no more excuse for being a victim. And that was a great reason to seek medical help. It is reassuring at times to play the victim - "everything bad happens to me!" - but it is also annoying. I don't want to be a victim of my circumstances. I want to be joyful and strong - able to face the greatest tragedy with tears, yes, but also with hope that everything will be okay in the end because God is in control.
I'm not free yet, and maybe I never will be... but, PRAISE GOD!, in Heaven I will be free. With that thought I can make it through whatever bondage this earth places on me for the next few decades.
Guess I have some hope after all... and hope is painful, yet mysteriously freeing...
So, maybe freedom is exemption from internal control... but that just sounds like insanity - an inability to control our actions/thoughts. Therefore, that doesn't work either.
The reason I wonder about freedom is because it seems like we are never free. Something always has at least a partial control over us. I wonder if freedom has more to do with being able to choose what controls us: the ability to throw off oppressive controls to take on other controls. Except that would make us in control... which brings us back to the problem of our sinful nature. Wow... what an incredibly confusing circular argument.
The thing is I desire freedom from a lot of things: depression for one. I know there is something wrong with the way I think and perceive reality. It could be the best day of my life and I would still see all the negative aspects. I would still manage to be upset for whatever dumb reason was near at hand.
I have an intact family, wonderful friends, health, an almost-completed college education, ideas and dreams, prospects for post-graduation jobs, etc. So, how is it that each day I can wake up and not want to get out of bed? How can I still hate my life to the degree that I wished it over?
I know I try to justify my pessimism on the fact that "nothing gold can stay" (thanks, Robert Frost, for that wonderful line). No matter what great thing is happening in my life at any given moment, I have an uncanny ability to see that it will never last. That something bad will come eventually to ruin all joy.
Not a great way to live, but the truth is that after 10 years of trying to overcome this bleak outlook and attitude, I am still failing. When I awake to those days of depression and hopelessness there is really nothing I can do to escape.
I am not free.
I want to be free!
I have asked God to free me since I am supposed to find freedom and healing in Him. Yet, even as He has freed me partially with His presence and words, I am still prisoner to my mind.
And yet, even if I am freed... what then? Like a bird who has been caged for its whole life, I would have no idea what to do if the cage were to be taken away.
I am going to visit a doctor soon to perhaps go on anti-depressant medication. My greatest fear is not that the medication won't work. My fear is that it will. I will be free.
Freedom is scary. It also gives me no more excuse for being a victim. And that was a great reason to seek medical help. It is reassuring at times to play the victim - "everything bad happens to me!" - but it is also annoying. I don't want to be a victim of my circumstances. I want to be joyful and strong - able to face the greatest tragedy with tears, yes, but also with hope that everything will be okay in the end because God is in control.
I'm not free yet, and maybe I never will be... but, PRAISE GOD!, in Heaven I will be free. With that thought I can make it through whatever bondage this earth places on me for the next few decades.
Guess I have some hope after all... and hope is painful, yet mysteriously freeing...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
I'm Done Trying
I hate it when people say things like, "You can do it" to me when I express some situation I am dealing with or some task I need to complete. I am a driven person and I rarely give up on something once I've started. So, when I say I am having difficulty with something or when I say there are just too many things I have on my mind, and then my friends are like, "oh, I know you can handle it" it shows a complete misunderstanding of who I am.
The whole point is that I CAN'T anymore! If I am saying I am overwhelmed it is because I AM! I no longer have the strength to deal with all the crap on my plate.
I know they mean well. They want to encourage me to keep moving forward and not give up hope. Fine. But stop telling me I can do things. I can't do anything by myself. I should know, I have been trying to for years and failing at every turn. I screw up everything I try to do myself. I need God's strength to get me through. I need His wisdom and help to fix all the problems I have caused.
I am not the Little Engine Who Could. I can't... and I'm tired of trying.
So... I quit.
I quit trying to make relationships work. I quit trying to feel/look happy all the time. I quit having to finish all the stuff I set out to do. I am just done.
I'm done doing everything and being everything that everyone wants me to be. I'm done...
The whole point is that I CAN'T anymore! If I am saying I am overwhelmed it is because I AM! I no longer have the strength to deal with all the crap on my plate.
I know they mean well. They want to encourage me to keep moving forward and not give up hope. Fine. But stop telling me I can do things. I can't do anything by myself. I should know, I have been trying to for years and failing at every turn. I screw up everything I try to do myself. I need God's strength to get me through. I need His wisdom and help to fix all the problems I have caused.
I am not the Little Engine Who Could. I can't... and I'm tired of trying.
So... I quit.
I quit trying to make relationships work. I quit trying to feel/look happy all the time. I quit having to finish all the stuff I set out to do. I am just done.
I'm done doing everything and being everything that everyone wants me to be. I'm done...
Monday, January 5, 2009
Loving Longest when Hope is Gone
"All the privilege I claim for my own sex is that of loving longest when existence or when hope is gone." ~ Anne Elliot in Jane Austen's Persuasion
I heard this saying a few years ago and I thought then it was so true. And to this day I am even more convinced of its truth.
I have loved someone for about five years. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was definitely attraction at first sight and has grown into love since then. At the time I would see him throughout the week and a surface friendship even developed. However, it soon became apparent that he was out of my league and there was no way he could feel for me the same as I did for him.
So I resolved to put him out of my mind and repress the growing love in my heart. It didn't work. I went away to school for weeks and months at a time without seeing or hearing from him, and I convinced myself that I no longer had feelings for him. Yet, when I went home and chanced to see him, all the attraction and love would hit me full-force again. It would take me weeks to recover.
I would yell at myself for being so stupid. I prayed for the feelings to go away. I tried to transfer my attraction to other guys and succeeded in some small way a few times, but it was never the same thing. Underneath all other "crushes" I was still in love with this one other guy. I hated it so much because I could not control or master it. And the worst part was I knew there was no hope of being with him.
I told myself that it would have to fade eventually. There was no fuel to the fire other than seeing him and talking to him on occasion. He never did anything to encourage my feelings. In fact, there were times when he drove me absolutely crazy by saying something really mean or discouraging.
Yet I still loved him. Why do so many women do that? They fall in love with guys who treat them like crap. I see it all the time - "oh, he doesn't mean it", "he is under a lot of stress", "I know he still loves me". Give me a break! And here I am in that category of loving some jerk. I just don't get it.
"The heart has reasons that reason does not know." I hate that fact too...
So, here I am stuck: in love with a guy who does not care for me at all like that. Unable to conquer the passion in my heart. Five years and no change (other than increased anger at myself for my stupidity). I can't even stay angry at him for being a jerk! I always find myself forgiving him and making excuses... GAH!!!!
I guess all hope is gone, but my heart will not accept that and love carries on without permission. Maybe, please, maybe someday I will stop feeling this way for this guy. Or maybe I will just have to move to a foreign country and stay there the rest of my life without ever seeing him again. Actually... that doesn't sound like such a bad idea...
I heard this saying a few years ago and I thought then it was so true. And to this day I am even more convinced of its truth.
I have loved someone for about five years. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was definitely attraction at first sight and has grown into love since then. At the time I would see him throughout the week and a surface friendship even developed. However, it soon became apparent that he was out of my league and there was no way he could feel for me the same as I did for him.
So I resolved to put him out of my mind and repress the growing love in my heart. It didn't work. I went away to school for weeks and months at a time without seeing or hearing from him, and I convinced myself that I no longer had feelings for him. Yet, when I went home and chanced to see him, all the attraction and love would hit me full-force again. It would take me weeks to recover.
I would yell at myself for being so stupid. I prayed for the feelings to go away. I tried to transfer my attraction to other guys and succeeded in some small way a few times, but it was never the same thing. Underneath all other "crushes" I was still in love with this one other guy. I hated it so much because I could not control or master it. And the worst part was I knew there was no hope of being with him.
I told myself that it would have to fade eventually. There was no fuel to the fire other than seeing him and talking to him on occasion. He never did anything to encourage my feelings. In fact, there were times when he drove me absolutely crazy by saying something really mean or discouraging.
Yet I still loved him. Why do so many women do that? They fall in love with guys who treat them like crap. I see it all the time - "oh, he doesn't mean it", "he is under a lot of stress", "I know he still loves me". Give me a break! And here I am in that category of loving some jerk. I just don't get it.
"The heart has reasons that reason does not know." I hate that fact too...
So, here I am stuck: in love with a guy who does not care for me at all like that. Unable to conquer the passion in my heart. Five years and no change (other than increased anger at myself for my stupidity). I can't even stay angry at him for being a jerk! I always find myself forgiving him and making excuses... GAH!!!!
I guess all hope is gone, but my heart will not accept that and love carries on without permission. Maybe, please, maybe someday I will stop feeling this way for this guy. Or maybe I will just have to move to a foreign country and stay there the rest of my life without ever seeing him again. Actually... that doesn't sound like such a bad idea...
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Saving my Life
You ever had one of those days when you wake up feeling angry or sad or like there is just something wrong? Do they happen more often than not?
I have spent a good chunk of my life under a dark cloud. I wish it would go away - I don't like being downhearted and angry. There is no reason for me to be so. I have a decent family, friends, a good education, etc., but I still feel so often like I am alone or that all of life sucks. The facts don't support that, but I cannot control how I feel.
Today is one of those days when I just feel like my life sucks and getting to Heaven is my greatest desire. I have had a lot of days like this recently, well, since August anyway. This feeling is not a stranger; it has followed on my heels for almost 10 years. Yet, periods come and go when I feel some relief, but then all it takes is a couple stressful events and I am back wishing my life was over.
Fortunately (or unfortunately) I do not have the strength to take my own life. Rather, I keep praying for God to let me die since He has control over these kinds of things. But to this moment He has refused. I am not all that thankful actually, but somewhere deep inside I don't want to die. But more than that I don't want to live the rest of my life with this deep pain and darkness in my soul.
Today as I was sitting in church and the communion bread and juice were being passed around, I wished once again that I could just be in Heaven with Jesus instead of remembering His death. And with my eyes closed and tears brimming just under the surface, it felt like Jesus was sitting next to me, with His arm over my shoulder, saying something to the effect of, "I know it is hard, but I'm here." I could almost see the pain written on His face as He saw me in pain. I wondered, "then why not just take it away?" But I realized that just like people get cancer or heart attacks, my body isn't perfect either. Sometimes God heals, sometimes He doesn't. I don't know how He decides, but I leave that to Him. As I was sitting in His embrace today it was like He was saying, "your body is broken just like many others'. It's ok to get some help in this" My brokenness is just in my mind and harder to heal than cancer or broken bones.
It was nice to have Jesus' arm around me. You have no idea how comforting that felt. It has been nice hearing His voice the last couple days. Yet, I am so afraid that I will get so caught up with "life" again that I will stop listening and waiting for Him. It has happened before, too many times to count. My heart hurts with that thought. I just want to be close to Jesus because He is the only one who can ease my hurts and chase away the clouds long enough to see a glimpse of light.
God saved my life - in every way. Spiritually when I was 6 or 7. Physically when I was 17. I know that my whole life exists because of and is wrapped up in Him. I know I would be dead right now if it weren't for His love. I know that I would die today if He withdrew that love.
So... I keep waiting for Him to save me mentally...
I have spent a good chunk of my life under a dark cloud. I wish it would go away - I don't like being downhearted and angry. There is no reason for me to be so. I have a decent family, friends, a good education, etc., but I still feel so often like I am alone or that all of life sucks. The facts don't support that, but I cannot control how I feel.
Today is one of those days when I just feel like my life sucks and getting to Heaven is my greatest desire. I have had a lot of days like this recently, well, since August anyway. This feeling is not a stranger; it has followed on my heels for almost 10 years. Yet, periods come and go when I feel some relief, but then all it takes is a couple stressful events and I am back wishing my life was over.
Fortunately (or unfortunately) I do not have the strength to take my own life. Rather, I keep praying for God to let me die since He has control over these kinds of things. But to this moment He has refused. I am not all that thankful actually, but somewhere deep inside I don't want to die. But more than that I don't want to live the rest of my life with this deep pain and darkness in my soul.
Today as I was sitting in church and the communion bread and juice were being passed around, I wished once again that I could just be in Heaven with Jesus instead of remembering His death. And with my eyes closed and tears brimming just under the surface, it felt like Jesus was sitting next to me, with His arm over my shoulder, saying something to the effect of, "I know it is hard, but I'm here." I could almost see the pain written on His face as He saw me in pain. I wondered, "then why not just take it away?" But I realized that just like people get cancer or heart attacks, my body isn't perfect either. Sometimes God heals, sometimes He doesn't. I don't know how He decides, but I leave that to Him. As I was sitting in His embrace today it was like He was saying, "your body is broken just like many others'. It's ok to get some help in this" My brokenness is just in my mind and harder to heal than cancer or broken bones.
It was nice to have Jesus' arm around me. You have no idea how comforting that felt. It has been nice hearing His voice the last couple days. Yet, I am so afraid that I will get so caught up with "life" again that I will stop listening and waiting for Him. It has happened before, too many times to count. My heart hurts with that thought. I just want to be close to Jesus because He is the only one who can ease my hurts and chase away the clouds long enough to see a glimpse of light.
God saved my life - in every way. Spiritually when I was 6 or 7. Physically when I was 17. I know that my whole life exists because of and is wrapped up in Him. I know I would be dead right now if it weren't for His love. I know that I would die today if He withdrew that love.
So... I keep waiting for Him to save me mentally...
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Family Matters
We all have them. Those few people in our lives who drive us absolutely nuts but we are unable to escape from: family.
They are responsible for our little idiosyncrasies, our prejudices, our looks, and even our underlying dysfunctions.
I look like my mom, I act like my dad. I am stubborn, have a smoldering temper right beneath the surface, am very opinionated, and I will fight for the dumbest things.
Every family has its problems. No one is perfect, and in a family atmosphere all those imperfections become more than apparent. Yet, in spite of it all we are supposed to love each other, stand behind one another, and spend time with one another.
My dad drives me crazy - he still treats me like I am a little girl. I think it is because he just can't handle the fact that his little girl is all grown up and a woman now. My mom never gives me advice because she wants me to find my own way or something like that - I hate it; I wish she would just tell me the right decisions to make sometimes. My brother and I fought like mortal enemies throughout our teenage years. I was terrified of him actually. Even now we act like strangers in the same house whenever we are together.
As much as I would like to disown my family at times I realize I can't. And besides, wherever I go, my family tags along because they are all a part of who I am.
Yet, in spite of all my issues with my family I love them all. I wish I could say it sometimes. I would rather blame them for making me screwed up, but I am just as much a part of the problem as any of them. We all have our issues that we carry with us deep inside. I don't know all, but I do know some, of the deep scars inside my mom, dad and brother. I want to love them, but most of the time I just don't know how.
When my dad is being annoying, or when my mom is being silent or when my brother is being distant, how do I say "I love you"? I was recently reprimanded for being mean to my dad. Perhaps I deserved it, but it hurt. I don't want to be mean - I just seem to do it automatically. How do I stop? How do I change who I am so completely to start loving these amazing people who are such a part of me?
I wish I knew, but until I figure it out I keep asking for God's strength and help to become a better daughter and sister today. Hopefully soon I will become a woman they can be proud of. Until then, I am afraid I am just another disappointment and issue that tears my family apart rather than mends back together the broken pieces. I'm just not strong enough yet to fix the problems I have caused... and that fact breaks my heart...
They are responsible for our little idiosyncrasies, our prejudices, our looks, and even our underlying dysfunctions.
I look like my mom, I act like my dad. I am stubborn, have a smoldering temper right beneath the surface, am very opinionated, and I will fight for the dumbest things.
Every family has its problems. No one is perfect, and in a family atmosphere all those imperfections become more than apparent. Yet, in spite of it all we are supposed to love each other, stand behind one another, and spend time with one another.
My dad drives me crazy - he still treats me like I am a little girl. I think it is because he just can't handle the fact that his little girl is all grown up and a woman now. My mom never gives me advice because she wants me to find my own way or something like that - I hate it; I wish she would just tell me the right decisions to make sometimes. My brother and I fought like mortal enemies throughout our teenage years. I was terrified of him actually. Even now we act like strangers in the same house whenever we are together.
As much as I would like to disown my family at times I realize I can't. And besides, wherever I go, my family tags along because they are all a part of who I am.
Yet, in spite of all my issues with my family I love them all. I wish I could say it sometimes. I would rather blame them for making me screwed up, but I am just as much a part of the problem as any of them. We all have our issues that we carry with us deep inside. I don't know all, but I do know some, of the deep scars inside my mom, dad and brother. I want to love them, but most of the time I just don't know how.
When my dad is being annoying, or when my mom is being silent or when my brother is being distant, how do I say "I love you"? I was recently reprimanded for being mean to my dad. Perhaps I deserved it, but it hurt. I don't want to be mean - I just seem to do it automatically. How do I stop? How do I change who I am so completely to start loving these amazing people who are such a part of me?
I wish I knew, but until I figure it out I keep asking for God's strength and help to become a better daughter and sister today. Hopefully soon I will become a woman they can be proud of. Until then, I am afraid I am just another disappointment and issue that tears my family apart rather than mends back together the broken pieces. I'm just not strong enough yet to fix the problems I have caused... and that fact breaks my heart...
Friday, January 2, 2009
I Want to be a Rock Star (or at least enjoy the concert)
They say, you learn something new every day. I learned something new recently that actually surprised me.
Somehow I allowed myself to be talked into going to a rock band concert on New Year's Eve. I convinced myself that it could be fun - I had no idea what to expect.
When I returned to my friend's house afterwards I described the experience this way: "I've had nightmares that weren't that bad." I was cold, alone (my friend stood up front the whole night, while I stayed in my seat), the floor was covered in beer and a good chunk of the people there were drunk, and I was sitting right by the speakers, so it was incredibly loud. The music itself wasn't too bad even though I knew none of the songs and certain forms of a specific f-word were repeated a good number of times. I could go on listing all the ways I hated my evening, but today as I was talking with another friend I realized that I actually would have enjoyed myself a lot except for one thing...
I was alone the whole evening.
I don't blame my friend for wanting to be front and center where she could reach out and touch the singers. I just wish she would have come and spent a few minutes with me between acts.
As I reminisced over the whole night I found that the drunk guys talking to me, the beer on the floor I was stepping in and even the plaster falling on me from a ceiling not accustomed to such heavy base vibrations were not that bad. And this is a huge epiphany for someone as sheltered as me. I have never been to any concert before that wasn't a Christian band. I never went to any party before where everyone was drinking alcohol. I have to admit though that my vocabulary has often enough contained less-than-savory words.
In spite of all the things I wanted to complain about, really, it was a great experience. I did have fun, though not as much as I had hoped for.
My mind wandered to what would Jesus think of me being there and once again He brought to my attention all the places He Himself was found. He would eat with "sinners": drunks and prostitutes among others. They were not 'recovering' alcoholics or former prostitutes, they were still in that life. Jesus wanted to be around them, in their houses. If Jesus lived today, I think He would have jumped at the chance to go that concert with me! He loved the "rough" atmosphere. He would probably frequent bars on a regular basis. He loved being around people who were real.
I'm not saying that if you don't listen to rock music and drink excessive amounts of alcohol you are not real, but a lot of Christians I know hide from those things because of fear or pride or just plain repulsion, even at times when they are angry and should listen to "angry" music or when they are overwhelmed by life's trials and just want a drink.
I don't know - it's hard to explain beyond that, but if Jesus wanted to be around drunks and skinheads then the least I can do is go to a rock concert now and again. Hopefully next time I won't be alone because I will be up front taking pictures with my friend and catching the broken drumsticks that are flung into the crowd...
Somehow I allowed myself to be talked into going to a rock band concert on New Year's Eve. I convinced myself that it could be fun - I had no idea what to expect.
When I returned to my friend's house afterwards I described the experience this way: "I've had nightmares that weren't that bad." I was cold, alone (my friend stood up front the whole night, while I stayed in my seat), the floor was covered in beer and a good chunk of the people there were drunk, and I was sitting right by the speakers, so it was incredibly loud. The music itself wasn't too bad even though I knew none of the songs and certain forms of a specific f-word were repeated a good number of times. I could go on listing all the ways I hated my evening, but today as I was talking with another friend I realized that I actually would have enjoyed myself a lot except for one thing...
I was alone the whole evening.
I don't blame my friend for wanting to be front and center where she could reach out and touch the singers. I just wish she would have come and spent a few minutes with me between acts.
As I reminisced over the whole night I found that the drunk guys talking to me, the beer on the floor I was stepping in and even the plaster falling on me from a ceiling not accustomed to such heavy base vibrations were not that bad. And this is a huge epiphany for someone as sheltered as me. I have never been to any concert before that wasn't a Christian band. I never went to any party before where everyone was drinking alcohol. I have to admit though that my vocabulary has often enough contained less-than-savory words.
In spite of all the things I wanted to complain about, really, it was a great experience. I did have fun, though not as much as I had hoped for.
My mind wandered to what would Jesus think of me being there and once again He brought to my attention all the places He Himself was found. He would eat with "sinners": drunks and prostitutes among others. They were not 'recovering' alcoholics or former prostitutes, they were still in that life. Jesus wanted to be around them, in their houses. If Jesus lived today, I think He would have jumped at the chance to go that concert with me! He loved the "rough" atmosphere. He would probably frequent bars on a regular basis. He loved being around people who were real.
I'm not saying that if you don't listen to rock music and drink excessive amounts of alcohol you are not real, but a lot of Christians I know hide from those things because of fear or pride or just plain repulsion, even at times when they are angry and should listen to "angry" music or when they are overwhelmed by life's trials and just want a drink.
I don't know - it's hard to explain beyond that, but if Jesus wanted to be around drunks and skinheads then the least I can do is go to a rock concert now and again. Hopefully next time I won't be alone because I will be up front taking pictures with my friend and catching the broken drumsticks that are flung into the crowd...
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Perspective (aka "God's Tears")
As I re-read my blog from yesterday I realized I left out one major and important thought in all my ravings. As I dealt with all the various forms of rejection in my life I began to wonder how God could possibly know how I felt. The Bible says Jesus endured all the same temptations that all people suffer, but this isn't exactly temptation. Then I realized that God has had to face more rejection than I could ever experience.
He loves people far more than I ever can because His heart is pure and He created us because He wanted to share that love. He wants to know people through relationships with them, and He even went to the extreme of letting His Son die as the punishment for a judgment measured out on all humans, me included. To die for us... what greater love?
And He asks us to return that love and be in a relationship with Him. Yet, a great chunk of humanity has rejected that offer. So many people misunderstand who God is and reject His offers of eternal love and guidance. And even though I don't know whether or not God actually cries, I think He does. He reaches out to us and we turn up our noses to His offer thinking we have something better already, and as we turn to walk away tears begin to slide down His face - over each person.
And then, for those of us who do accept His offer of relationship, there are still times when He asks us to do something and we get all defiant and do things our own way. (It is funny how we think we can ask God for anything, but never have Him ask us anything in return... aren't relationships give and take?) He has to suffer through those rejections as well. Sounds an awful lot like being rejected by family...
So, I decided that being rejected by family or friends or whomever isn't as bad as what God has to face. And He just keeps on loving people, without conditions or strings attached. He craves our presence. So crazy how easily we ignore it.
Crazy how I think I have it bad when a few people reject me.
Crazy how much God loves me and accepts me no matter how much I screw up or complain.
Crazy how when I see rejection in this light, my pain doesn't really mean anything anymore...
Forgive me, God, for not understanding. Forgive me for complaining. Please heal my hurts - however insignificant they now seem. Thank you for accepting me and loving me. I love you too.
He loves people far more than I ever can because His heart is pure and He created us because He wanted to share that love. He wants to know people through relationships with them, and He even went to the extreme of letting His Son die as the punishment for a judgment measured out on all humans, me included. To die for us... what greater love?
And He asks us to return that love and be in a relationship with Him. Yet, a great chunk of humanity has rejected that offer. So many people misunderstand who God is and reject His offers of eternal love and guidance. And even though I don't know whether or not God actually cries, I think He does. He reaches out to us and we turn up our noses to His offer thinking we have something better already, and as we turn to walk away tears begin to slide down His face - over each person.
And then, for those of us who do accept His offer of relationship, there are still times when He asks us to do something and we get all defiant and do things our own way. (It is funny how we think we can ask God for anything, but never have Him ask us anything in return... aren't relationships give and take?) He has to suffer through those rejections as well. Sounds an awful lot like being rejected by family...
So, I decided that being rejected by family or friends or whomever isn't as bad as what God has to face. And He just keeps on loving people, without conditions or strings attached. He craves our presence. So crazy how easily we ignore it.
Crazy how I think I have it bad when a few people reject me.
Crazy how much God loves me and accepts me no matter how much I screw up or complain.
Crazy how when I see rejection in this light, my pain doesn't really mean anything anymore...
Forgive me, God, for not understanding. Forgive me for complaining. Please heal my hurts - however insignificant they now seem. Thank you for accepting me and loving me. I love you too.
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