Saturday, August 29, 2009

Agape Nika

It feels good...

To be loved.
To feel loved.
To be told you're loved.
To be given the impression you're lovable.

Because, at the end of the day, it makes all of the difference.

And love, true love, always wins.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Power, huh?

Everyone always told me knowledge was power.

But with great power comes great responsibility.

And so now I hold the power and I have to make a decision.

Because I have the power enough to destroy but not the power enough not to be scared.

I know too much.

And not enough.

The uncertainty is tearing me apart.

Knowing means I can do something with the information.

Not knowing means I have to wait for the answer.

Knowledge may be power but waiting is dependency and dependency is lack of power.

So I'm struggling somewhere between the control I have and the control I need.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Toothpaste Ponderings

I have a traveling toiletries container that has stayed in varying stages of “packed” all summer. Between weekend “getaways”, road trips, weddings, and camp twice...I feel like I’ve been in some stage of journey consistently for the last 3+ months. Rather than consistently be looking for my travel shampoo, toothbrush, and soap...I’ve just kept everything I didn’t need from the convenience of home in that little zippered pouch.

Including my traveler’s toothpaste.

Those little bottles of toothpaste typically last me about two weeks brushing twice a day. I had gone through a week of camp and three weekends away on the little tube in my possession, but I was about to start a second week of camp. As I pulled out my toothbrush to brush my teeth that first night I cringed. I hadn’t bothered to check for the amount and my supply of toothpaste was unimaginably low. There was no way I was going to make it through the whole week. “Maybe I can just borrow some or maybe I’ll have to go out and buy more...” I sighed to myself. And I continued to squeeze out of my little toothpaste bottle.

I brushed morning and night...each time wringing the tube for all it was worth. I threw away the empty roll this morning after glopping the last little ball of toothpaste onto my brush. Miraculously, mysteriously, and quite unpredictably, the toothpaste lasted me the entire week.

And right now, actually all through the week, I’ve felt just a little bit like that tube of toothpaste. Like I didn’t come in with enough to begin with and it was going to be nothing shy of a miracle if I made it through the whole week. I’m debating now whether or not there had always been the perfect amount inside regardless of what it looked and felt like or whether or not I was forcing product long past the time it had anything to give.

I realize that at the end of the day (or the week) either way God sustained but I’m so incredibly wasted, worn out, used, abused, and thrown away. It is hard to decipher purposeful destruction and whittling away at what I had to give and pushing beyond the capacity of capability. I’ve never finished a camp week feeling so defeated, so alone, and so separated from the God I spent my week claiming to serve. What does this mean in terms of the life I am trying to live?

My favorite song right now is “I Will Life My Eyes” by Bebo Norman. The chorus claims “I will lift my eyes to the maker of the mountains I can’t climb. I will lift my eyes to the calmer of the oceans raging wild. I will lift my eyes to the healer of the hurt I hold inside...I will lift my eyes”. I desperately want to focus on the one who is more powerful than the things I cannot conquer, the things I cannot control, and the things I can neither share or express. But I’m having a hard time lifting my head. And I’m having a harder time believing life won’t always be this way.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Passions and Hate...

Ever get a song in your head that just won’t quit? I did today. But I don’t have that song in my files. So, I youtubed it. The song is irrelevant, the experience is not.

Somehow a related song brought me through a few loops until I ended up with videos placed in relationship to eating disorders. I clicked and watched in a tranced cringe. Some of them basically said “I’ll gladly have an eating disorder if I can just look like that...” Others said “I still have an eating disorder because I’m still fat...” Still others screamed subtly “Somebody love me, I just want to be beautiful.”

They made me so sick inside I begged to cry. The tears never released (per usual) and the dull nausea I had been experiencing for the last few hours blossomed as my head began to spin. Somewhat ironically, my course of action was to go throw up. It made the spinning in my head stop but not the raw ache gnawing at my heart.

In too many ways those videos hit too close to home. They were too painful. Too real. Too me. I know too much so the authenticity in the pictures, in the words cut too sharply, too deep. A single tear fell to my cheek as my immediate run away from the images in front of my brought me to a facebook flair reading "You're beautiful. I just wanted to remind you of that..." If only I could get others to believe that. If only I could believe it for me...

I’ve been begging for true passions to be revealed...and more than ever this summer I have had a hard time ignoring the fact something in me feels very deeply for my teenage girls. The ones I can claim and the ones I can’t. Body image is such a huge platform of mine. A ridiculous soapbox because of the way I’ve been impacted.

How do I act on this passion? How do I make it make a difference? And what if I can’t? What if I am scared because I know acting on it is going to mean admitting to myself and the world the things about myself I most hate?

Monday, August 3, 2009

Chicken

I almost blogged tonight.

But I didn't.

I was ready to post when it occurred to me people might actually read this. And if the right people read it at the right time...things could have been misconstrued. Feelings could have been hurt. For as much as I wanted to release my thought into cyber space, I refuse to unintentionally hurt feelings.

And so I find I censor myself. Too many expectations at church. Too many slaps in the face with friends. Too many kids and relatives on facebook. Too many possibilities with my blog.

Some day maybe I won't be afraid of the real me.