No More Me.

Folks, I am a stupid sinner.

But I have decided I am going to start writing again.
And with my words I will strive to glorify God.

Isn't it crazy how easily and smoothly we let the devil into our life? With his being a master at deception it's so hard to detect his presence. He tells us that we're perfectly fine and good enough while our relationship with God just gets colder and colder. We grasp at our standards and our great reputation to try and make up and offer these protests to our blinded minds, "Look! I'm still a great Christian!"
And it seems far too seldom when by some irregular circumstance of life God strips the devil's lies from my eyes and I see my own sin and weakness. Far too seldom!

I, being the chief among those to experience this awful cycle repeatedly. Awful, awful, because I just let it happen. Do I ever even fight to stay in God's presence? Or do I welcome unintentionally the comfort zone the devil is ready to slip me back into? Comfort is so comfortable, and yet so wrong. Only for a time will comfort be. Please, please choose your comforts carefully! Take God as your comfort, and let the world be an uncomfortable place for you! Endure and don't faint when following God is hard. His comfort is a real, true, and good thing. Compared to anything the devil has to offer!

I want to start reflecting God with my life.
No more hideous glimpses of me.

No Great Effort.

I haven't written in so long... it's kind of frustrating to force oneself to after so long. I'm not sure if I know how to formulate words right anymore. But Emilia told me I should write again, so I have decided to take her advice. Mind, I make no great effort. If fail it will pass as an easy thing, don't mind me.

I think I need to stop writing as if to an audience.

I need to write again. I do miss it so. and moments like this when my soul is soaring just ever so much above the common ground (uncommonly so) is when the tug to write o'er comes me. So here I attempt, yet with no great effort in mind. 

You know, you never really know how much you ought to do a thing till after you've done it and you become so glad. It always looks like such a dull thing to go outside where the sky is blue, when you have your computer in your lap (horrible addicting thing!). And such a useless effort to ride a bike when you've been on your feet for ten hours working. 

And yet, the glories we miss just because we paint the best of activities in such drab clothing! Grey and dull do the most invigorating and exciting adventures seem when one is predisposed to a lazy disposition. 

All this to say I'm stupid! And I just wanted to sit around looking at pictures on Instagram this evening, (begging the chilly weather as an excuse not to go for a bike ride or enjoy the day's last streams of sunshine) yet. Yet! I went for a bike ride and by the end I though the blue sky with the drifting white clouds the most beautiful and interesting thing! (much more so than Instagram) and when I got home I went round by the garden gate and sat on the trampoline and gazed at the sky some more while mom watered her garden. I was very glad I did that rather than staying inside. Think you that I would have had the spirits to write this blog post without catching it's very soul from some chance wind of this evening's outdoors? 

Like I said, no great effort. Just a bunch of words. 

A Million Lies.

Sometimes I ponder and I wonder how many of us "Christians", or even Bible college students, are more than just puppets.

they bow 
in hypocritical silence 
make show 
of a million lies

the greatest humility
on display
brought forth to be
in a prideful way

sing of joy
unbounded, free
bitterness, deep
the true reality

they preach and scream
of a Consuming Fire
with a voice asleep
to all holy desire

the Bible to be read
merely the thing to do
prayers offered
 yet in every heart untrue

rules to enforce
preeminent
love unconditional
scarcely evident

judged, condemned
each one by another
“be ye kind”
a social blunder

of a million lies
each deed and word
living “perfect” lives
outward show preferred

Stuck With You.

A year ago today

I sought to be a breeze

To go and to stray

Wherever I might please

I didn't like the feeling

Of entanglement

Continually revealing

My own estrangement

I will stay my own

Till in my soul desire will be

There by another desire sown

(Till then I am only me)

But today

My breeze becomes a breath

A sigh, as you say

"I'm stuck with you"

"I hope so"

The only stupid words

These I murmur low

They're only stupid words

To ask of you a promise

When I no promise give

Not for the lack of this

But the words to make it live

You see, "I hope so"

I hope you're stuck with me

Cause I'm stuck too, you know

Somewhat irrevocably

If You Wonder What My Confusing Brain Sounds Like.

Every day I wake up and I have a new mood that I can cling to. Sometimes it scares me, and sometimes it is a wonderful release. The angst from yesterday overnight turns over to a spirit of liberty, or sometimes the goodness I’ve been cultivating in my heart becomes fear and anxiety with a new day. Sometimes I take from my slumber a sweet solitude and forgetfulness that dreams seem to give me, but only for five minutes of the new day before I remember the problems I’d created yesterday, and I marvel myself anew at how I complicate life.

Those Dark Moods.

I have this mood. This horrible, depressed, dark mood that comes over me when I dwell too deeply upon one tiny aspect of my life and let it colour everything in shades of awfulness because “my life isn’t perfect”.

And yet. I walked outside and they were standing around on the porch, heads up, mouths open, catching snowflakes on their tongues. And the snow was the glistening magical kind that comes down in big flakes and plans to stay a while. My eyes took it in, and in the worst mood ever, I could still appreciate how beautiful it was. I can do that you know? No matter how terrible I feel, something in me observes “Oh, by the way, the world is kind of a wonderful place.” without that observation affecting my mood one ounce. As if I begrudged the world it’s beauty or something like that.

I tip toe in and out of this mood. with spirits being lifted here and there by some happy thing, and feigning the excuse of exhaustion to one and all (a very plausible excuse with how much I’ve been working this week) and let myself stew as I wait for that something that will get me out of depression. I know something will. I probably just need to sit in a room of silence and solitude for a bit and the poison will fade.

And it does. I’m actually the happiest person on earth right now! You see, the fickleness is so truly my personality, and reluctantly as I let it be! I’m listening to the happy voices and they’re making me smile!

Earlier this week… Or in fact. Before this week I hadn’t been working. And it hadn’t really bothered me, except, I knew I needed to work.. Kind of . and earn a little money. I prayed I would be able to work a little before I left, I hoped I would.
Then they did call me and I started working, and then all of the sudden I was sighing and complaining all. the. time. about the fact that I had to work! What kind of a fool am I?
I finally realized how messed up this must seem to God. I ask Him to let me work a little… And He graciously allows me to… and then I turn right around and talk about how much I dislike it! Messed up human beings of which I am the messed-upedest!
Anyways, now I am grateful as I ought to have been all along! Work is good! God is good! I am happy about the fact that I am working!

No more complaining.

Right?
Right.

Writing About What I Dare Not.

There are many things I dare not write about anymore.. Not in so many words, anyways.

Touchy subjects arise from the plaster of our floors (that we never knew were plaster) and tingle our feet, and we care too much about things we’ve never really even given a thought before… And suddenly there are many things you think and feel that you’d never express in anything so tangible as words.
And yet, that’s all I want to write about. If you know what I mean? If you get my dilemma?
Because maybe this Christmas a certain someone that I know has finally asked a certain someone else I know to be his girlfriend.. And dare I even say so much? No, and yet I do.

My mother was in an interesting mood tonight. She kept remarking on how fascinating life is, with a laugh. I have to agree… I find it hilarious. I like taking my many knowledges and opinions and the things I know have occurred and have been said and glueing together pieces of many puzzles and stories and dramas behind the scenes involved in my life and others’. It’s incredible, really!

Did you know my life can be, is, has been rather dramatic? ’tis true!
I used to scribble words on pieces of paper bemoaning the fact that I am just not the type of person people normally make friends with. “A ready smile.” being my main characteristic, one sentencing me forever to the life of a mere boring, nice acquaintance of all who come to know me.

And yet! Now! Here! Yesterday! …. If only I could tell you, and we’d laugh over it all together! But you see, I can’t. What a damper it is on one who wants to write when one can’t even say anything… not a single thing.
How am I supposed to write being able to say nothing?

Some people confuse me endlessly. (people who wish not to be friends.) Some people frustrate me endlessly. (friends who wish not to be ‘friends’) Some people I adore endlessly. (kind people.. just kind people.)
I think kindness is beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. I don’t care what other issues you may have… but if you can be a kind person (truly kind, inside out) then I am pretty sure to think you’re pretty great.
Likes those sweet things that I’ve never even had a full conversation with (let alone heart-to-hearts) but who I will endlessly be ready to hug and smile and say hello to, because their beautiful heart which I’ve never seen I’m sure is there.

Have you ever just known something? Been absolutely dead-set sure of it… With no exactly certain way to explain it to other people, and they understand not…. But you know it?

I have. There are many things I feel… that I never say. And yet, they make all the difference.

Excuse me it’s midnight and please don’t read too much into what I infer here. (things can’t be said you know!) and yet there is much to be read. And words are becoming much too many and much to vague as I seek to convey that which I cannot.