For Those of Us Left Stuttering

There are times when what you want to say has already been said. This seems like one of those times to insert lyrics.

In this broken place where I was born

It seems there is no peace,

And the very soil that we walk upon

Is filled with tears that never cease,

And you can trace the scars of hopelessness

Like sweat upon the backs

Of all the outcast downtrodden,

Water slipped through cracks

Hold on,

Hold tight

 

And I am overwhelmed with grief,

to see such suffering,

For those who lack the voice to speak

For those of us left stuttering

 

May this not prevail,

Dear Lord, your love will never fail

And these frail hands,

They tremble as they pen perhaps their last

And these weak words,

Can never say what cannot be surpassed

 

When the concrete of the world

Becomes too cumbersome to lift,

And the cataracts of fear and doubt

Cloak truth beyond what we can sift

And darkness, darkness bleeds its way,

When crippling anguish clouds our sight,

The ghosts of dusk have bared their teeth,

Set their claws to bring the night

 

Hold on,

Hold tight

 

Darkness can't perceive the light,

though lightlessness has chilled us numb,

And though its wings may cloud the skies,

The dark shall never overcome

Light of the world,

Your love, has never failed

And these frail hands,

They tremble as they pen perhaps their last

And these weak words,

Can never say what cannot be surpassed

I need your love,

And most of all I want to feel your peace,

I need your love,

Let everything that you are not decrease,

(Your love,

Your mercy,

Your light unending.

Your hope,

Your peace,

Your strength my heart is mending.)

--Brave Saint Saturn's "These Frail Hands"

There are times when we are called to grieve. Invited to weep. Allowed to feel the weight of brokenness. And perhaps with that grieving protest the chasm between what should have been and what is. This seems like one of those times.

Maybe it's the countless victims ravaged by the Tsunami in Japan that I can never comprehend. Maybe it's the gunfire and war in Libya that I don't really understand. Maybe it's the three clients we've seen in the last two months who have tested HIV positive. Maybe it's the funeral of a friend and the loss of a great man. Maybe it's the deferred hope of healing.

Sometimes we are called to grieve. And in grieving learn to hope again.

With an ear turned toward the suffering of this world and with all of us left stuttering without words (although I guess I've been able to come up with quite a few) I wonder if hope is reserved for those foolish enough to believe that though the dark may come the sun also rises. I want to be among the foolish.   



on being unbound

Do you ever feel too scheduled? Too confined? Your time too demanded? Between two jobs and graduate school I am about one crazy card away from being in a padded room. I've recently been introduced to the harsh reality of "this is life, kid, grow up". So....to balance the craziness of my demanding schedule I've had to be intentional about pursuing activities that permit freedom.

photography

poetry

music

and....my bike

Before you ask...yes it's a boys bike (but who could resist that sapphire blue?) and yes it was a rollback special!

There is something about being on a bike. Being unbound. Being free. An illusion of escape that is much needed.

so get free today as much as your space permits!

dreary january



For all my fellow comrades affected by seasonal dreariness here are just a handful of photos that I've collected this month reminding me of the beauty that can be found even in times marked by winter's cold.



So Gather Up Your Jackets

And move it to the exits, I hope you have found a friend.

I am thankful for new years. Grateful for markers in time that signify the end of something and the start of something else. I am thankful that seasons of winter do not last forever. I am relieved that seasons of sorrow eventually and always give way to seasons of life, creativity, and beauty. This year has brought its share of sorrow and pangs of growth and change that I hope can only be followed by new life. This year has also been marked by the richness of friendships--those who have continued to walk with me, hope with me, and laugh with me.

So as Semisonic tells us....every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

Whatever this next year brings face it with courage, hope, and a good amount of humor.

As one little Hobbit reflected on the darkness of his journey, he offered this outlook -"there is light and beauty up there that no shadow can touch".

And I think Sam is right.   

of peace on earth and good will to men

 I am drawn to the Christmas songs that usher me into a place of reflection, remembrance, and waiting. The songs that echo a sentiment of longings still unfullfilled seem to be the only Christmas songs that reach my soul.
Ransoming the captives

A weary waiting world

Oppression ceasing

People waiting for chains to break

Songs that acknowldge the dark realities as well as the thrill of hope crashing in to awaken us from the despair of sleep.

I also am really taken by the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in the poem "Christmas Bells". Written in the midst of a flurry of national chaos and personal tragedy his words capture the paradox of this season-- of agony and triumph.

 And in despair I bowed my head;



"There is no peace on earth," I said;


"For hate is strong,


And mocks the song


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"



Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:


"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!


The Wrong shall fail,


The Right prevail,


With peace on earth, good-will to men!"


May this season be one of reflection spurring you to hope in the midst of waiting.

Check out two artists that inspired me to connect these thoughts....

Shellee Coley

Future of Forestry

lyrics lately

I've been contemplating how my life would read if it were comprised of the lyrics that have occupied my thoughts lately. Perhaps something like this...

Can I be used to help others find truth
when I am scared that I'll find proof that its a lie


Weep for yourself
you'll never be what is in your heart


When all your fears rain down
I'll take you back a thousand times again
I would sing you songs of innocence
For you were once a child of innocence

God's moving in your bloodstream
where the cross beats aren't so slow

So there you have my life lately in lyric. A mess of Nickel Creek, Mumford and Sons, Future of Forestry and Freelance Whales.

I'm not too sure what "cross beats" are but I think it may mean that sometimes redemption sweeps over you so gradually that you don't notice the small shifts of grace and hope. Redemption moving through your bloodstream where resistance to His movements aren't as strong. At least, for my sake, that's what I'm hoping for.  

Rewriting the Plot

Listen to this

This is a song that has been playing in my head for weeks (I recently included it in the third volume of a series of songs that will wreck your soul...in a good way). Something about the honest admission of the absurdity of life intrigues me. I find myself at times growing weary of the plot of this broken life...asking God to rewrite it and come and get us.

Do you ever stop to think about the story we are caught up in? Something has been radically broken. Someone has come to restore what is broken.

These are my thoughts so far on this song. More to come.

"i don't know if reason's ever gonna see why love has come to die"

lessons shelved

Transition.

Change.

Anticipation.

These words demand to define my life as of late. Some people may associate these words with excitement ,challenge, and adventure. I tend to associate these words with instability and disharmony. A few weeks ago a friend and I were reading through the book "Understanding How Others Misunderstand You". My personality fits well with the "Steadiness" behavior style. "S" people don't like change in fact the book tells me "the basic fears of the "S" are disharmony and instability". A few pages later "the S deals with this stress by sleeping".  How does a book know me so well! This is too funny. So as I face a new semester, a new job, and a new house I am met with the anticipation of both pain and growth (and apparently a lot of sleep too).    

and here is when things get better....

Clearing off my bookshelves I discovered a paper crisply folded yet crammed between the dog-eared pages of an old planner. Forgotten notes scribbled during one of my undergrad counseling classes outlining the process of change we all go through when faced with discomfort and pain. Underneath the outline only a few sentences were written:

To the degree that we have sinned or been sinned against we can not love.

Some pain stays with us for the length of our life but we learn to no longer compensate for it.

Some people suffer and become broken bread and poured out wine.

There will be some events in life that trigger old responses of pain and hurt. There will be some events in life that appear to threaten our sense of stability and peace. It is the hope of redemption that invites us to look with new eyes as our wounds are transformed into broken bread and poured out wine.

and we will choose to live from love and not fear.

forgotten significance

A picture i took in houston one day.

I found this (piano?) leaning outside against a wall of a junk store. I was drawn to it because of its intricacy and its forgotten significance. I wonder who it belonged to once upon a time. I wonder what led its owner to abandon it. 

Abandoned but still possessing beauty.   

music for your friday

I found this guy's music on you tube. I keep coming back to this cover. Enjoy your friday!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rcmS9evyN4

dealing well with disappointment

I read an interview the other week with Jennifer Knapp. It ushered me into a place of unexpected emotions. Anger, confusion, and disappointment swirled around in my head along with a myriad of thoughts. Unexpected because this emotion was aimed at the interviewer, not Jennifer Knapp. I was angry at the way the interviewer posed his questions. He even prefaced one with "I understand, but I'm curious....."  No, you don't understand if the guiding purpose of your question is to satisfy your curiosity. Why did he feel compelled to clarify if she traveled alone or with her partner? Why ask how long they have been together? How do the answers to these questions help us love Christ or love one another? They don't, they only allow us to gather stones.

Maybe the interviewer was attempting to reconcile his faith with her choice. Maybe he was attempting to navigate the tension between expectation and disappointment.

We are all wanting the Easter morning story. Tell us your stories of struggle but only if there is victory at the end. If Jennifer Knapp came out and then in the same interview said by the blood of Christ she overcame those desires and is now happily married to a man with 2.5 kids the Christian community would hail her as a hero of the faith. But that isn't her story. And we don't know what to do with that. And maybe I don't know what to do with that.

This is the story of our faith.
Death defeated. Yet we still die
Sin conquered. Yet our backs still ache with its weight
A promised living hope. Yet despair is a daily acquaintance

I heard a song recently by Noah Gundersen. Cover your ears about 1:37 seconds into it. Just warning you. The honesty of his questions gripped me and left an unsettling feeling. I originally found this on someone's blog and the comments were your typical "I'll be praying for Noah". Why is that our first reaction when someone has experienced profound disappointment with our faith? Why not examine our hearts and repent of the sins that may have contributed to his disappointment? 

If we are called to be rooted in community this means we share in one another joys as well as (and maybe even more so) in the brokenness and disappointed hopes that litter the landscape of our faith. Our savior conquered but He also suffered well. Doubt seems to be the ever present shadow of faith. There is beauty in our story. There is mystery. There is certainty but there is also a terrifying unknown. There is disappointment but there is also steadfast hope. 

May we learn to walk well the tightrope between disappointment and hope. This is the story of our faith. It is a beautiful mess of redemption.

graveyards

Is this a graveyard to bury her heart or is it a garden where new life will start?

This question posed by Sleeping at Last's song "Keep No Score" reverberates in my mind as Easter approaches. Why does God seem to promise life only after a death has occurred?  Ever feel like there are some years when your need for Easter feels more prominent than in years past? This is my year.

I've known of the gospel story for most of my life but somehow this year is different for me. January and February were months that appeared to be marked by death. The trees held lifeless branches. The skies were gray. The ground was cracked posing threat to any flower that would dare grow. There were a few weeks when the wind chapped my skin (and you know how angry I am when I am cold). The hope of spring was so far away.

Then one Sunday morning I saw a wildflower. Then a patch of wildflowers. Bright reds and blues sprinkled the once brown barren landscape. The sun began to shine with more intensity.  Every year I am shocked when spring finds its way past winters threat. To breathe life into what has been dead. To bring hope in despair.  To remind me that there is always life after death.

Is this a graveyard to bury her heart or is it a garden where new life will start?       

What seems like death is really an invitation to greater life. 

happy easter. 

He is risen. 

amen and amen 

a laugh (and maybe a warning)

Got this from my Gma in an email forward.  Not funny...but written in a very funny manner. Condensed for your reading pleasure.


About 10 days ago, I felt a cold coming on; so before I went to bed I
used Zicam Cold Remedy Nasal Gel.
It literally felt like I had sprayed pepper spray directly into my brain. It burned all the way to the top of my skull.
After about a day, I realized I couldn't taste anything and I thought,
"Wow - I must really have a bad cold."  Then I noticed that I couldn't
smell coffee brewing, couldn't smell my perfume when I put it on,
couldn't smell the popcorn I burned, couldn't smell my favorite candle.
I panicked and starting smelling everything that I could find that had
really strong odors - ammonia, finger nail polish remover, bleach, etc.
I couldn't smell ANYTHING! I started tasting everything that had really
strong tastes such as HOT salsa, raw red onions, Doritos, coffee. I
couldn't taste ANYTHING!


I went to my ENT but he told me to "take this(prednisone)and pray."

I LITERALLY CANNOT SMELL
OR TASTE ANYTHING!

The email closed with a WARNING-throw away Zicam. If this is true I feel sorry for this person, but maybe they will find purpose in life as a comedian b/c the way they wrote this stuff is rich. Good night and stay away from the drugs. 

I just can't help but picture a very panicked individual frantically smelling everything that has "really strong odors". Then eating Doritos. Then going to the doctor to be told "take this and pray".  

confessions of a shoe tying imposter

When I was four years old I became a liar. My neighbor, my nemesis, learned to tie his shoes and was rewarded with a "shoe tying party". I became jealous. I wanted a shoe tying party! I devised a plan to fool my parents into thinking I too had reached this pre-school milestone. I vividly remember walking out of my room into the living room proudly displaying my tied shoes. Problem was I did not tie those shoes, my mom did and I quickly slipped them off my feet then back on without disturbing the carefully constructed bow. Somehow they bought it and I rejoiced in the celebration of my own undeserved shoe tying party.

How is it that 21 years later this event is burned into my memory?

I have since learned to tie my shoes (although occasionally I do slip my shoes on and off to avoid having to tie them-cuts off 3 seconds of my getting ready time).

The point is I knew at an early age how to lie. It came pretty naturally to me.

Most rebellion comes pretty naturally to me. I am taking this Dave Ramsey  financial responsibility class and my biggest hurdle is myself. I don't want anyone else telling me how to live my life. I want to do what I want when I want. It's very Veruca Salt of me, I know.

I want a god I can control-not one who deserves my allegiance in every detail of my life. Welcome to my heart. Don't get too comfortable as I am sure it will be overturned and rearranged as it collides with Christ.

In the book Renovation of the Heart Dallas Willard shares this about the nature of the heart

We usually know very little about the things that move in our souls, the deepest level of  our life, or what is driving it. Our 'within' is astonishingly complex and subtle-even devious. It takes on a life of its own. Only God knows our depths, who we are, and what we would do. Thus the psalmist cries out for God's help in dealing with-himself! 'Search me, O God.'  'Let the mediations of my heart be acceptable to you.' 'Renew in me a right spirit.' At a certain point my own heart has been formed and I am then at its mercy. Only God can save me.

 I need the gospel. I need to be reminded of my devious heart and the fact that I am a shoe tying imposter. My pastor in Chicago explained the gospel as this : you are more wicked more sinful than you ever thought possible but at the same time in Christ you are more loved more accepted and more forgiven than you ever dared to hope.

And speaking of Chicago, in his tribute song, Sufjan Stevens that great philiosopher writes

you came to take us
all things go
all things go

to recreate us
all things grow
all things grow

i made a lot of mistakes
all things go
i made a lot of mistakes
all things go

Hope some of this made sense. My mind has been spinning with this stuff lately.

Lessons Learned

Four days into 2010 and I am learning lots. Most of these lessons are being filed under "what is wrong with this generation: thank you ABC".

Quotes and reflections from tonight's episode of "The Bachelor"

• "As a model, I am used to relying on my looks to get attention."
• In her Ten Things about Me list Tenly (yep that is why she chose to reveal Ten things) said "I check my pride at the door" Gotta hand it to a girl who leads with her humility and broadcasts it on national tv.

After that riveting and all too devaluing episode, I had every intention of turning OFF the tv, but leave it to ABC to introduce a ridiculously awkward and unreal dating show.....Conveyor Belt of Love. The premise of this show is quite simple :35 men (paraded on a conveyor belt) are given one minute to impress a panel of five women.

Quotes from tonight's episode of "Conveyor Belt of Love"

• "I'm not looking for anything serious...especially not marriage"
• "I'm turning 30 soon so I'm really going to take Conveyor Belt of Love seriously"
• Coming down the conveyor belt howling like a wolf, "hey ladies I hate being boRRREED"
• "I really only date in the cougar category...32 and older"
  
• "I thought I'd write you a poem so you all would understand who I am. The poem is called Enjoy Ecstasy"
• "I kinda wish some girlfriend from my past would call me up and say 'hey your 15 year old son would like to meet you' and I would say 'cool!!"
• After Keiko told Johnny "I want you to worship me" Johnny told the tv audience "I like her cuz she is straight to the point"
  

After subjecting myself to this "entertainment" for three hours all I can say is God save us from ourselves and Monday night television.

sihouette of the hope to come

Thinking about the Advent season and I came up with this--a picture and a poem of sorts.

hope wears thin stretched
between these promises
still resilient in its form
only a silhouette

prophets speak of one to come
but we-cocooned in darkness
accustomed to its shadows
stumbling in its treachery
are waiting
weary waiting

o long awaited one come
to quell the uprising of our sin
and steal our affection
so easliy given to idols

God has spoken
we have heard
surely He will come
He has promised
shame shall not be
the garment of His people

God has spoken
He will come
to fill with substance
that which is
a silhouette of the hope to come

youtube intervention

You have got to do this sometime when you are needing a laugh. Whitney and I would routinely go onto youtube and read the ridiculous comments. Why don't people write this stuff in their diary anymore?

Example A
In the youtube video for Ingrid's "Corner of Your Heart" user alias NOTMYLIFE3 says "it reminds me of a boy name byron rains and how he iz the worst person you could ever meet idk how but it dose =[".

Who the heck is Byron Rains? And what if he happens upon this video? He iz henceforth the worst person you could ever meet!!

And if I ever met NOTMYLIFE3 I would give her a spelling lesson and a diary. With a key.

serious people with serious glasses

I have been overdue for my annual eye exam for about 3 months now. I try to delay as much as possible because it is so discouraging to have your eyes checked. A reminder that your body is slowly failing you. And I'm only 24! Today wasn't so ridden with thoughts of my slow degeneration as other visits have been because I am learning to find humor in it all. But humor is lacking in a place filled with serious people who wear their serious glasses.


----Lemme break it down for you----

As I walked into the office today, prepared for judgment day, I immediately noticed the awesome glasses the doctor was wearing. "Oh great, she will be my judge. And look at her glasses so much better than mine."

So I head back into the pre-examination room and get ready for the series of tests. Let me just insert a word about the need for specific directions. When the doctor asks you "what is the smallest line of letters that you can read?" What she really means is "read that to me". I responded with "the bottom or the second to the bottom" And then she says flatly, "okay why don't you try reading it". Out loud? To you? And then fear strikes my heart as I realize how very similar all the letters begin to look when you are put on the spot like that. And I said "C" but my brain meant to say "Z". And I wish I would have lied and said I can only read the big E at the top. Can I go now?

No, I can't leave. It's time to do the puff of air test. My left eye failed, which I think translates to "it blinked and we have to do this again". I am probably the patient who needs to be locked in the chair and have her eye lids taped open because I can never keep my eyes from blinking. I think its a natural response to close your eyes whenever a huge machine fires a direct shot of air.

When the doctor saw my glasses and I told her they were probably 3 or 4 years old  her response was "Whoa that's old". Thank you. I wanted to laugh but I could tell she did not consider this a laughing matter.

"I'm going to shine this bright light in your eyes". At no other time in life is this okay. I'm going to almost blind you with my flashlight of death and you will pay me $89 to do this. K?

And then comes the worst part of an eye exam for someone who is a people pleaser.

The "which one is better 1 or 2?

3or 4?

2or 3?

Stop saying numbers to me.

I usually just go with a gut response--"ahhhh 1". "ahhhh 2" And sometimes they look the same. But if you show even a half second of hesitation she will only repeat the same options. I want to ask "which option do you like?" but again this is no laughing matter to eye doctors. They are serious people with serious glasses.

Now that the exam is over relief has flooded my soul. I passed-for the most part. A whole year can pass  before I have to face again my failing eyesight. In the meantime I think I will memorize a copy of that eye chart. 

why life is good

when the wild things are no more

Okay Dana this is for you because I told you I would post. Even without comments. I think I woke up this morning and wanted to find out what it would be like to be a movie critic.

In the movie "Where the Wild Things Are" Max and Carol seek to create a world where the sadness can not get in. A world that operates exactly as it is supposed to. It does not take long for the sadness to pervade their idyllic creation in the form of broken promises and broken friendships. The beautiful cinematography and quirky soundtrack offset the heavy themes of broken trust, disappointment, abandonment and the desire to escape it all. I love this movie because of the universal yet still painfully personal themes. How many times have I longed to escape to a world where the wild things protect me from hurt only to find that no such place exists?

I am not the Christian who looks for heaven in every movie. Yet I cannot help but resonate with the promise of hope and the desire for a place so very different than what we know.

I am familiar with the verses in Revelation of Jesus wiping all our tears away but I can not fathom a world where there is no room for sadness. Will even the memory of sadness be abolished? In a weird way I hope not. It is only because I have found myself in the throes of grief that I can appreciate joy and peace. For that reason I am okay to live with the memory of sadness.

For those who are weary of the monotonous disappointments of this broken world be encouraged that one day there will be a place that operates exactly how it was intended. A place so good that the sadness can not get in. A place where the wild things are not needed and cease to be.

If you have not seen this movie I encourage you to do so. You may not see what I saw in it and that's okay. It's a little weird, a little dark, a little funny but mostly thought provoking.