Looking for Home

I used to be so at home on these pages.

Now I feel like a stranger wherever I go.

I could really come alive,

words were the only way to quench my thirst, sometimes

dripping, trickling

but often gushing, streaming

life-giving water for my deadness, a current

so straight and true I could always connect

anything that once seemed wayward, meaningless.

I would just feel whole, purged of the stains

of Haphazard emotions and Disastrous thoughts

Even now I am not free.

This writing is jilted

I always have to force myself to this page

Because I don’t want to face this pain

Not pain of the actual writing

But the catapulting piercing and raging pains of judgment

The judgements of this writing and of my soul behind it

Trying to scramble together any small thing I know about myself

I am so lost when I’m not broken

Because when I AM broken (again)

no one sees me as that anymore including myself

No more excuses for me.

Write the dead words

Pick up the pierce pulsating head

Move your weary body

Choose from your plethora of skills to combat that anxiety

Don’t ever let that negative thought win the battle

You can take the pain

You will push through this migraine

You will find a soft place to lay your head

A quiet haven for your restless mind

If you just look hard enough

I wish I could just forget, forget how to fight

So I could give myself a break for once

Sometimes I feel so trapped in my today, yesterday

And tomorrow

Transformation Barrier

This week during Bible study we were talking about Romans 12:9-21 where Paul lists all these things that love is. The girls and I discussed what transformation would really mean if we did these things. My friend Vanessa had the idea of making two lists, one of all the things that are not demonstrative of love in the Kingdom and another corresponding list of who we really are in Christ. Then, she said, “You burn the first list.” I got really tense when she said that. I literally felt myself freeze and say internally, I could never do that. While I had always heard of (and continue to) transform my thoughts through writing, I for some reason like to visually see all the crap that I believe written out. Sometimes I just write all the negative thoughts down and forget to go back and actually write the transformed statement next to it. I like to go back and read (and reread and reread) all these thoughts. It gives me some sort of perverse pleasure.

The idea of burning my list of crap seemed revolutionary for some reason. Almost terrifying. In that moment I realized the very simple truth: My barrier to growth and true healing is that I love my crappy self too much. Or I think I do. I continue to believe that I am a more significant, interesting person being “messed up” than “healed” and “whole.” It all goes back to some weird belief that I need more love and attention in my life, and I can get that by being “sick,” “messed up” or “weak.” Even though I know for a fact this is all crap, I continue to believe it.

Why do I think I need more love? What more could I ask for? I have an amazing God who continues to pour on me blessing after blessing when I least deserve it. I have a supportive family who loves me and true friendships that will last a life time. In fact, I can’t think of one person in my life that does not continue show love and unconditional acceptance of me.

Again, it goes back to my mind. I am always striving for what’s right in front of me. Lately, I have been irritated because I am trying to recreate moments from my past. Times I have felt “high” on life. Instead of living for today. I basically abandon things I have always enjoyed like writing in my journal or playing the piano simply because I can’t get that emotional high to please me the way it used to. I do the same thing with caffeine-the bane of my existence-food and with particular types music and boos. I have experienced such extreme emotional highs on these substances or activities in the past, as if these temporary highs are eternal and significant. I have all these damned expectations for myself, expectations no one in their right mind would place on another human being. If I can’t reach some sort of inexplicable perfect feeling, I, at best, avoid the activity altogether (my black-and-white nature) or continue to “feed” myself until the day ends. Realizing, obviously, that the emptiness still remains.

But, thanks be to God, I am learning to say, “This is a new moment.” and “You are a new person.” “Accept yourself for who you are now.” And “There’s more to life than a fleeting feeling, however intense.” I am glad I am learning to tell myself the truth; I have really transformed in that area. But I am so sick of this back and forth war. I want to be done with all this childishness. Love freely from my deepest self, without wondering what my true motives are and analyzing every tiny decision I make or word I say. Will I ever be free?

Mostly, I don’t know how to live in shades of gray (but am very aware and learning to change). I am either in the past OR the present OR the future. Somehow it seems impossible to learn from my past experiences but not become obsessed with them and even more impossible to accept and cherish this moment while also anticipating and being hopeful for the next.

That’s all.

longingclingingdoubting

This is for “Christians” who doubt. This is for those with runaway, self-condemning, constantly turning, bubbling, distorting minds that won’t shut up and cannot rest. Please know you are not alone. You are loved and no matter how much you doubt, you are loved! Hang on to Hope. Hope is something my soul never forgets no matter how many times my brain tries to deceive it.

Soft and floaty

My world is nice

Like a cushion

Shielding me from unpleasantries

Noises are distant

But I am within.

Still.

Questions there but fuzzier

But deception is tastier

And fire less dangerous

My vices are my friends

And I can’t stop

Wanting what I can’t have:

What’s only in my fantasies

I always know I’ll be let down

When the high ends

This foreign thing in me.

I know it and other things

Bring me to this place

A place where my will is taunted

And bad turns into good

And all reason has fled

Maybe it’s harmless

And I blow everything out of proportion

Maybe, probably. In some ways.

But this substance in me, I know,

Is just another example of what I do:

Yearn for what will leave me

Empty.

Always.

Even now my drug is leaving

And I’m going to be empty

But if I could just stay in

This place…

Why can’t I taste and see and know

Truly experience

What will never leave me yearning?

Because my will is strong

And human is what’s in my veins

And little experience with

Clarity, stability and

Understanding

Leads me to a place

Like this

Somewhere I’m sure to

Find peace

However short-lived.

And I’ll always keep going:

Reaching to fill my cup

Reaching, reaching

But the liquid never stops

Because it cannot quench

This thirst.

Experience and life has told me:

There’s nothing to be sure of

In this world.

Even Jesus.

No matter how true and stable and constant

He’s supposed to be.

I’m human and I have my doubts.

Sure, sometimes I’m strong

And hold on, stay on top of the water.

I do see truth and beauty and life

More than I have ever before

But I sometimes question:

Is it necessary

To believe He is the Christ

When everything contradicts itself?

And Truth seems inabsolute

When people you trust

Suddenly confuse you

And you realize you can trust

No one.

When your healing can be

The result of fifty things

Not necessarily the True Thing

What is Christ anyway?

And I I’ve beat my head into

Fifty thousand walls

Trying to know if He really cares

Or if I’m just making it up,

Just acting like I believe…

When will it end?

I feel like, if I’m so desperate

For Him

And for Him to reveal His

Presence

To speak loudly so I will have

No doubt,

So I’m not constantly questioning

My sanity

Or what’s right and wrong,

And if it take a PhD to understand His Word

Or non-Christians are more

Near and dear to me than so many “Christ-followers”

And if I long to be free of “Christianity”

And rigidity and guilt

And to KNOW freedom

From my torment, doubt and never-ending questions…

IF IF IF

Should I just give up…?

But HOPE

Is holding me

Because my soul clings

To Something,

Someone I can barely see

Who I know is my TRUTH

And is some THING that

Goes beyond any fucked up

Shallow thing I was ever taught in any Sunday school

Class or youth group or church sermon

Or (well-meaning yet misinformed) “Christian” mentor or relative

This THING is someone who I can see glimpses of,

Someone

My soul belongs to,

But somehow I cannot attach the name Jesus to,

Because sometimes that name

Is ash in my mouth

Because I’ve heard it so much

I just wish it was precious and new and wholesome again

Like a drop of water

In a thousand miles of desert

Or a new color that’s never been seen

That’s how I want to see and know and experience

This Savior

That’s supposedly my Lover and Creator

Who can fill me more than this lovely wine

Or heart-pounding, life-giving caffeine

But I’ve let deception in

And every human eye on me (supposedly)

Is more important than the eye

Of the one who sees only ME

Because he sees ME

As his precious daughter

As if I was the only heir

To his throne and the only one he could use

To accomplish His beautiful purpose…

That’s the ONE for whom my soul longs

Has always longed

The child in me has always known

But who most days I

Disregard

As a fantasy, a figment of my imagination

Someone some crazy people

Just made up

Or tainted…

My mind turned this lovely I AM

Into someone I NO LONGER

Trusted and the Man God

Into a GHOST, a vapor

A Wannabe-Savior

Or even worse

A Nobody

So as much as I long for the simple life and this

Beautiful “OTHER,”

Something is always there

Telling me of my Stupidity

To actually believe He exists

And His Father deserves my praise…

That I will always be longing for more…

Because I can TRUST no one

(just look at church

and the confusing so-called “Word” he supposedly gave us)

LORD if you are who You say You are

I plead with You (as always)

To make Yourself known to me in a way

I’ve never experienced

I want to hear You

Like “they” always talk about

So I can KNOW FINALLY and be FREED of all

This ugliness

The questions and doubts and SELF

Please, I beg of You

As always, my heart is open,

I’m on my knees

But my will is weak

And I’ll keep turning the other way…

But somehow I get up and

Come back to You or

Who I think You are,

Who I long for You to be

And maybe it’s You who is

There to pick me up

Will I ever be sure?

Or will it always be the same questions?

Are you my God?

And is Your Son really

My Savior or is it just something we all believe to

Try to make sense of our selves

Our lives our sin

Our shittiness?

(written January 15, 2012)

Old and New, New and Old

There is no way I haven’t written since April!!!!

It seems my last post from a few weeks ago was deleted…Are there any bloggers out there that can help me figure out if my post is retrievable or actually lost in virtual world???

Anyway, I could try to be “good” writer and try to make myself look good but I would rather just write. I was inspired by my dear cousin Becca who finally started on her blog again. I thought to myself, if she can do it (have a set of 8-month-old twins), I can too!

Life is busy as always with its twists and turns, highs and lows, delights and challenges. I have been embracing life in a whole new way as I have discussed in a few other posts (including the one that got deleted.) Sometimes it feels like a “new” me because, lately, I have gotten lots of “new” things: a new car, a new piano, a new boyfriend to name a few. And soon I’ll have new phone and in just a few months-a Masters Degree! I look at my life and I realize how blessed I am…I just cannot contain my appreciation for life. My melancholy personality may not be reflective of this. But sometimes the things that stir inside of me are too deep to put into words so often I just don’t even try to explain my thoughts.

Underneath all the “new” is the same old me and the Spirit that sustains me. As always, my fears are in my shadow clawing at me and lying to me. But lately my relationship and connection with God have been restored! I don’t really know what happened…maybe it was a “phase” or has something to do with my moods and ever-fluctuating brain chemicals. Or maybe God wanted me to go through a “trial.” I don’t really care. I am so grateful because the doubts I was having were so suffocating; I feel like I can finally breathe again!

Again and again I feel it in my soul: even if I lost everything, I can be fully and completely whole, having this one relationship with the One who gave me Life. Sometimes it’s a fleeting thought, but it’s there and this knowledge keeps my fears at bay. I am very aware that this might sound cliche and “Christiany” but I can’t stop my soul from speaking.

More to come…

Prayer of the Beloved

(from 11-29-09)

Dear God,
I’m writing because it’s all I can really do right now,
imagining that I’m curled up on your lap just resting,
with no need to talk
or explain the depths of this insanity brewing over and over.
This mug of thoughts that is my brain,
stirring and stirring, bubbling and it never stops.
I am so aware of this beauty that is my brain,
the beauty I see in me because I am a part of You.
Breathing in deeply I have an incredible sense of security,
knowledge that I am just where you want me.
Because no matter how much I go back or plow forward,
nothing quite matters like this moment.
Where for once I am freed from my ceaseless questions,
my heart is jumping in anticipation, hope and surrender
rather than bitterly and confusedly nursing its wounds.
I lay here forcing the world to shut out its noise
trying to disconnect my real brain from invading my solace,
my hope of a life like this rather than just a moment.
But I have to continue with my knowledge of the beauty of Your presence
and my peace in just a simple segment in time.
While the knots threaten to enlarge moving from stomach to chest, to head,
I imagine them as powder gone
and only visible to me is Your face,
the only thing I feel is Your arms, secure and completely calm.
No hauntings, no fears, no weaknesses,
plaguing destructive thoughts that stab me.
I know who I am and never want to leave this sacred place.
But why will this moment end?
Oh, LORD, when my inevitable humanity rips me from your Arms,
I pray to help me find my way back.
Again, and again. And again, I pray.
Because you will never tire of Your daughter,
Your beloved one,
the one You love, can never love more, never love less.

Amen.

Forgotten Identity

Noises and colors mesh and I am sitting here trying to breathe. Deep into myself. I don’t know where the breathing will lead. And I just forgot who I am. My right hand is icy cold and I am tired of trying to warm it up. My brain is so scattered I feel like an hour ago was not even my life. How can I sit here and seem at peace but inside I cannot get my breathing to flow properly? I am looking for solace and I feel like I have no home. Now the sun has gone down and I told my roommate we could take a walk. But I have let the darkness come before the light. Sometimes they get so loud: the thoughts, feelings I don’t know how they can even be a part of me. How can I shift so swiftly and why do I feel like an alien in my own skin? I am trying to embrace this shift and not judge it. Let it in and out. I am so sick of trying to figure everything out. Will I not just rest in the confusion? Accept that I may never understand how I click and hope that someone will love me regardless of my forgotten identity?

Restless

Something is pulling me
Grabbing at my will
I can’t seem to be okay
I can’t sit
My mind spins
Thinking: what could I do?
Should I do?
What will satisfy me?
Looking inside I know You’re there
but why isn’t that enough?
I’m not up, I’m not down
I’m treading in the middle
missing my old rollercoaster life
Unaccustomed to the stillness

The moments where nothing seems to be happening.
When I can’t put a finger on a feeling
I’m burning
In this deadness
I feel like a fish out of water
this is so strange to me
When life is not about to end
And when running to my journal
And my tears is no longer necessary
to survive…

but still there’s an ache
I wish I could be full blown depressed (sometimes)
But is seems that chapter has closed
Now I have to survive
In a new world
When I’m thirsting for the old one
Who am I when I’m longing
Longing to have my identity back
My sense of worth
I feel better when I’m sad (I think)

But I hate it when I don’t have reason to be
And my brain and my heart both agree for once
I’m unsure and unsteady
As always, looking for answers
Inside and outside
instead of upwards…
i don’t know when reality will set in:
that I can’t, WON’T go back!
No matter how hard I try!

i have to live with one foot here
And one step there-for NOW
Brain-thoughts flitting
Nothing can fill me
Things that were once drugs to me
No longer allure me

And I miss that.

coffee and sugar and crying
Writing and analyzing my self
Weeping and sobbing
Friends and love ones who gave their all
to listen to my ramblings and woes
The Psalms and New Testament and Isaiah and Jeremiah and Job
Jesus…

Books, characters whose lives I longed to have
characters who were my only friends
Real people who I loved as my flesh and blood
People who I’d think about night and day
Authors who I felt knew me through and through

and the words I wrote down
Spurred on by my passions and melancholy
Beautiful, sad words…

Now I don’t see these things as necessary
Because…I’m different
But I miss the highs they gave
The lows that led to the highs
The roads I walked
The barriers I dodge
The waves I climbed

Even Jesus. Christ are you necessary?
I know you are but it’s new.
You are my life in this NEW place
I need you in a new way but i’m not sure
what it is yet
Please teach me!
Help me to know how to ease this uneasiness
And just rest.