safe haven

Sense of Memory

2011-12-12T10:34:00.005-05:00

Rose petal fallen to ground
Dead as you are
Not even the flowers given
In your memory last

Leaf from stem to coffee cup
Sip to lips
Taste of residue hits palate
Death tastes fuzzy

Hum hum buzzing refrigerator
Hymnals sung
Echos summoned from memory
Voice distracting mind from studies

Garbage rot in doorway
Stale fish smell
Summers in your garden
Dumpster dives and burning bushes

Senses shape thought of you
Missing you completely

Grief

2011-11-17T23:10:00.000-05:00

I cried for the first time today since [coming home from] California. This season of loss has squeezed any and all fruit I've ever produced, showing the kind of stuff I'm really made of. The squeezing's a real b-word, but it's the only way to know whether or not everything - the blood, sweat, tears, money, creativity, love, was worth it (whatever "it" may be for you). I sat at my desk, face in hands, snot running down, and the words "I'm not going anywhere" on repeat in my mind from a voice only vaguely familiar.

Honor

2011-08-05T11:34:00.004-04:00

There have been too many people to count, who have hand a hand or a finger in the development of who I am becoming. Darlene Buttram was the catalyst in my introduction to a life transcendent, believing in my ability to hear Holy Spirit even when I didn't think I'd ever met Him. I think of Jeff and Mel, who modeled for me what loving well looks like, in spirit and in truth. Danny and Stephanie come to mind, and the countless hours on their couch, wrestling through the growing pains I was experiencing in both my soul and my spirit. And there is Sean and Barb, who believed in me and, even without knowing, commissioned me into ministry by laying hands on me and blessing me and calling the Spirit down to dwell and overtake. Not to mention that the first time I'd ever heard Sean speak (I still remembered the message was "It Takes A River") was the first time I remember making a conscious decision to serve the Lord.

I have been listening to the teachings of Bill Johnson, and he has a lot to say about honoring those who have come before us. In knowing how to honor correctly, we recognize the God-given destinies on those we honor. Whether someone ended poorly or not, it is not my place to judge them, but to rightly see that Holy Spirit has used these ones to establish His kingdom in my heart. Being someone who has a great desire to mentor, parent, and disciple those who I go before, I know that there is no gauge for me to see fruit coming from my life unless there is a culture of honor in those who I pour into. Not to say that there is a need for me to see fruit develop. God only knows just how many great leaders died before their influence was ever publicly recognized. Yet if it is in my power to do so, I want to live my life in such a way that those who have done the hard work of investing in me feel encouraged and strengthened to continue as they observe my life. I know that I need encouragement this way at times, especially when the ones I have once poured myself out for are no longer within proximity.

"Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it." Proverbs 3:27 (ESV)

There are a number of people who come to mind who, up until now, I have never recognized as being among these I've already mentioned. Whether my relationship with these individuals ended poorly or my ability to recognize their influence weak, I want to, at least in my heart, honor those who deserve it. I want to be thankful! My life has been so poured into by so many people. How little do we say "thank you" in our culture today? I mean, REALLY say "thank you" and mean it. I often feel like such a little ingrate. To bless and not curse, to give as I have already received, to speak life and truth, to love well - this is the way of the Kingdom, and I want to live in a culture that brings the Kingdom to the small patch of earth that I inhabit.

I want a king.

2011-06-10T12:10:00.002-04:00

I lay in bed last night, waiting – for my missing roommate, for tiredness to overtake my mind and body, for some divine Being to somehow fill my hollow chest. “If only you could see the thoughts that I think toward you. If only you knew just how great the plans I’m writing for your life,” I heard the Lord say nonchalantly. “Thanks, but I think I would settle for a pair of arms to hold me as I lay here,” I said, half-jokingly. He did not laugh.

My memory pulled out of its bank the story of Samuel, the prophet, and the children of Israel’s request for a king (I Samuel 8). “We want a king! We want to be like the other nations of the earth,” they cried to Samuel. Rightfully so, the appointed judges at the time were corrupt and unjust in their rule. Yet the justification of requesting a king does not outweigh the consequences of the decision. Samuel knew this very clearly, as we see he was greatly displeased at the children of Israel. If you look at I Samuel 8 v 7-9, the Lord responds:

“And the LORD said to Samuel, "Obey the voice of the people in all that they say to you, for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. According to all the deeds that they have done, from the day I brought them up out of Egypt even to this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are also doing to you. Now then, obey their voice; only you shall solemnly warn them and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them."

Samuel goes on to warn the people of a king and his desire for war, power, and wealth. He even warned them of a king’s right to access any resources found in his kingdom: the fields, their daughters, their sons. Even still, the people wanted their king. And I want a husband. Without any clue as to how much work and sacrifice that this entails, I have this idea in my mind of a day when I have someone in my life for life. Not just in word, but on paper; someone whose role is to protect and to affirm, to provide and to challenge, to know and love me deeply and fully.

All of my ideals aside, I know that the reality of one person fulfilling the deepest longings of my heart is unlikely. It would take a lifetime to fully discover a person’s intricacies, though I know some couples who have come pretty damn close. I don’t even know whether or not I’m “ready” to be married (as if anyone ever really is). I just wish that I didn’t feel so wrong for asking, as if I am the one of the children of Israel asking for a king.

It must’ve caused some sadness in God’s heart to hear His people reject Him in this way. At the same time, I wonder if He gave in to their request, knowing full well that, though it would be gut-wrenchingly difficult to watch, in the end, His people do come back, His kingdom does become established, and He does rule and reign over them and over us, through covenant and consummation. If only the thought of this would give me the peace enough to fall asleep and feel not so far away from it all.

storyteller

2011-04-28T10:32:00.003-04:00

we were sitting around the passover table and under florescent lights. the middle table located in the middle of the room - i always seem to fall in the middle of things. the loudest and the smallest person the room must stand in the middle in order to be seen whilst being heard. those among me laughed and shared memories of past moments, from childhood to present. somehow two of my favorite stories were inserted into the mix: the "that makes me horny" story and the one about my 4 foot 3 inch grandmother humming. (if you are familiar with neither of these, then we have yet to spend much time together) we were so loud that others around the room came to join out of curiosity or maybe annoyance of the unconstraint in our volume. my friend, malik, says in his cool london accent, "miriam is such a storyteller, hey?" i grin. but in my mind, i know how God-aweful this truth can be sometimes.

there have been stories in my life that i have told that were completely false. yet i told them in confidence - to get a rise out of a crowd, to receive sympathy in my sporadic depression (the kind in which the details are too painful to go into, so you do what you can to get people's attention. or maybe this is just me, eh?), to simply prove that i could. whatever the reason, i told the stories and people believed me. some have been complete truth (as absurd as some of the true ones are), some are exaggerated, and sometimes i'm just a lying asshole.

disclaimer: before you go on and disregard me (or any story that i have every told you), know that this doesn't happen often anymore, save the few times i've fed a professor a sob story to get off the hook.

the thought came to me this morning, after going through my morning ritual of stretching, meditation, email, twitter, facebook: "be true to yourself." sure, for some, this thought may not be worthy of iconoclasm or my own show on CBN, but think about it for a moment. through the lens of heaven, through the eyes of the One who formed me and shaped me and loves me most, be true to yourself. i don't know about you, but this thought could very well be weighty to me because i have yet to be true to myself fully. maybe you've got it all together and i'm just effed up.

in any case, i've paused. i've scanned over the top of my life, and i've found that there is hardly life there most of the time. there is an imbalance, a disconnect. and the only way that i have been function has been the pulling and pushing of those around me. i have some good friends that light me on fire every now and then, and inspiration comes - to create, to ponder, to be present, to be spiritual. and still, there is not steady pace, like a new driver in the seat of a manual car.

i feel deflated. and often times, i feel far away. from what? i dunno. to use professional terms, i fear that i am suffering from an unhealthy work/life balance. the problem with me is that i have tried to make those things that bring me life also the things that bring me work (aka make that paper). there are those who have done this and thrived, and i'm sure it's all going to come together for me. but for now i'm in limbo.

my first summer revisited

2011-02-24T10:35:00.002-05:00

I have been scanning my blog and old journal entries this morning, simply to be reminded of the things that I may have forgotten. The following blog entry is one that I wrote my first summer in NYC. During the time I wrote this entry, I was living in Bushwick, Brooklyn with Jax and Patrick, I was working at the Starbucks on 35th & 5th with my beloved Frenchie, Sandra Doussin, and I was just starting to get my feet wet at in the community of Trinity Grace Church (formally known as Origins Church). My heart felt so much wonder and awe every time I laid eyes on the skyline as I rode the JMZ over the Williamsburg Bridge. Life back then seemed a lot less complicated then it does now - New York was so novel, just an adventure I could write about and tell my kids about one day. Now, I feel responsible for what goes on in the streets and in the government, as if this is has become my home.

-----------

subway station chronicles : essex/delancey
Wednesday, July 16, 2008

the man who talked to himself sat in between me and the woman whose legs were frightfully unshaven. he was intently eating the last bit of meat off of the fried chicken bones i had thrown in the trash can only moments ago. each gnawed on bone he flicked into the air, leaving each piece to fall wherever it may. her sideways glance filled with disgust, she got up swiftly to move as far away from him as she could. the conviction in her movement was obvious! but when it seemed that she was undetected and clear from his reach, when all hope looked conquered and within her grasp, he spit the remnants of bone and chicken fat from his mouth and covered her from shoulder to waist with his saliva. oh the realities of a fallen world!

Liquid Poison

2011-02-10T23:02:00.002-05:00

a diary entry from thanksgiving:

Nov. 28, 2010 9:08PM

What is this mess I feel trickling down from my mind, through my heart, to my fingertips. It leaves thinly painted trail marks on my arm; my hands shake. It is the weight, the sticky fluid dripping down each strand of hair into my eyes. The liquid poison is every lie binding sight and emotion and thought.

i used to

2011-01-31T15:25:00.004-05:00

i used to be want to be a writer, with my name in print on the kind of publications that represent intellectual stamina. i used to want to be well-known, as if to say being recognized by the so-and-so's on the street would cause my lack of self-esteem to disintegrate. i used to be want to be a rockstar, because the definition of true artistic ability is the instance someone get your song stuck in their head. i used to want to be rich so that i could live without hardship or want. i used to want to be married by now, but with my inability to be known by others, it's for the best that i am still single.

i've grown up a bit over the last few years. a number of those grandeur things i used to want have left the forefront of my mind. call me an underachiever, call me what you will. the public eye is now undesirable, and a life without struggle is meaningless. i may never achieve fame and i may never see riches. but i think at this point, i will be content with having daily bread on the table and health in my bones. i don't have too many rock songs written, but i'd be content with continual prayer on my lips or words of truth out of my mouth, letting my "yes be yes and my "no" be no. and i may not be married, may not be known by many people at all. but i am confident in the person that i am becoming because the definition and intricacies are coming from the voice of the One who loves me well.

pendulum

2010-10-21T08:40:00.002-04:00

what the hell is wrong with me? i've internally digressed to become this skittish, uncertain, self-conscious girl who hardly remembers what it feels like to be free from every nonsensical care of this world. Oh, what I would give to live outside of this lifetime's striving.

i swing like a pendulum, so inconsistent.

always more

2010-10-07T10:41:00.002-04:00

the community i am apart of has taught me the value in spiritual disciplines. one of the tools in which to practice these is a method called fixed hour prayer. i am not, by any means, able to explain fixed hour prayer's fullness and history whilst doing it any justice. yet i know that, as i have journeyed through praying in a daily rhythm, i see the fruit of God's Spirit come alive richly in my life in a daily rhythm as well.

so as my first blog entry in God knows when, i would like to share with you a portion of this morning's fixed hour prayer which also happens to be the weekly appointed prayer. you can find fixed hour prayer, as well as other spiritual discipline tools at the website: www.explorefaith.org

more blogging to come!

-----

The Prayer Appointed for the Week

Almighty and everlasting God, you are always more ready to hear than we to pray, and to give more than we either desire or deserve: Pour upon your church the abundance of your mercy, forgiving us those things of which our conscience is afraid, and giving us those good things for which we are not worthy to ask, except through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ our Savior; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.†

(untitled)

2010-08-01T12:22:00.004-04:00

My heart breaks in the night
'Neath shadows of the street lights
Peering through our window sheers
Playing tricks with my eyes
Little fan circulates cool air
Cutting through summer's breath
The white noise camouflages my deep sigh
Of oxygen passing through my hollow chest cavity
Tears flooding my ears again as to
Tunnel through the build up that has so caused
These deaf ears to ignore the forewarnings
Of loving you too deeply...

so help me God

2010-06-29T15:26:00.005-04:00

i've allowed myself to go several weeks without writing. this should be a very clear sign to me and everyone else that i have done a very poor job of allowing my mind to catch up with my body. i sit here and it seems that my mind is completely blank - no thought provoking ideas, no new lyrics or lines, no funny stories from my childhood. in all honesty, the only thing that is in my mind right now is "so help me God" by DC Talk: "so help me God, to put my faith in you/ so help me God, before i come unglued/ call it my addiction, i can't get enough of you/ so help me God, to put my faith in you".

"unglued" would be the right term for my current state. there is a certain point of busyness that one reaches in which the person's thoughts, desires and pains all become brushed to the side. this is new york city. i am sure anyone i come across can relate. don't get me wrong, i enjoy learning and a good challenge. and i did not enter into school for nothing - there is great purpose in why i've taken the plunge. yet i am seeing the consequences of the laziness i used to have when it came to studying and discipline. it is a great feat for me to focus in, especially when there are always people around to engage in and to be with. i love being with others so much.

so for now, i take Paul's advice: "I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." (I Cor. 9:27) as much as i promote discipline, i will be disciplined. as much as i claim to love learning, i will focus my mind and absorb all that is required to do well in my studies. in the end, i know that my times of rest and play will be sweeter as i've done all i can to work hard, with precision and excellence.

dead men

2010-06-03T16:01:00.002-04:00

an entry i typed up on my way to california for my sister's high school graduation. this one goes out to all of my beloved kingsians.

(written 5/29/2010 7:09AM)

early morning flight out of the city - i am not a stranger to these. in fact, they are more familiar to me than the kind of flying you do that is conducive to the hours you keep in normal life. flying red-eyes would be normal if i were a vampire. one day i will be able to afford convenience; that day is not today.

four hours of sleep is actually very generous for an early morning flight. i am sure my current alertness has something to do with the fact that i slept through my alarm, only to be awakened by the grace of God and the light of dawn peering through my bedroom window. thank God for caitie. if it wasn't for her, i wouldn't have made it out the door on time (despite the fact that she forgot to zip up my laptop bag, which almost resulted in my brand new macbook pro crashing poetically to the group - "young lady waits her whole life to own technology for herself/ alas, her dream lasted for one night"). she even left me a little present - a heath bar and leftover pizza from last night's dinner. she's going to make a great wife for some lucky bastard someday. for now, she is mine, and i couldn't be any more grateful. (most.)

i set out to use the plane ride to catch up on my reading, because one cannot get enough "theory and practice of counseling & psychotherapy" at 7 in the morning. instead, i cannot get rene descartes out of my mind. i have not officially studied philosophy until this semester. now that i am doing so, i am beginning to think that i have been somewhat of a philosopher all along. all of these theories about life, God and the origin of man - i cannot seem to get enough. i wonder what it would be like to receive both acclaim and opposition simply because of the thoughts you conjured up . if i had a dime for every decent thought i produced, i would be flying in a private jet instead of this packed 757.

i think of maslow and his hierarchy of needs, how he came to the conclusion that man would not begin to think of culture, philosophy, beauty, origin of man, if his basic needs were not met. i understand this idea; it takes a unique person to think along these lines even if his or her stomach is impoverished. may i be so bold to say that i feel as though i may be one of these?

ever since the beginning of my life in new york city, i have kept students of the king's college very close to me. they are so lofty in their thoughts, something that i would give them grief about. i never imagined that i could share this interest, a desire to waste my days pondering the thoughts of old, dead men. socrates, plato, aristotle, descartes, locke, hume - caitie often refers to these men as her close friends. (don't tell her i told you that.) although i still think it odd (and slightly unhealthy for her social capabilities), i can see why these men so strongly capture her attention.

far too many minds are going to waste. there are some people in my philosophy class who, i would venture to say, have hardly thought thoughts that were not mainly funneled into them by their parents, pastors, peers, culture and the media. the average high school student knows more details about lady gaga's eccentricities than they know about themselves - what they think is true, their personal values, what is in their own heart to accomplish and who they want to become. professor cid, my philosophy professor and the head of the PHI department at my school, has every physical attribute of your average late 30's/early 40's, harlem-raised dominican man, down to the accent and the speed of speech. (dominicans talk FAST!) yet he said that when he was starting out college as a business major, he could not seem to get away from questioning EVERYTHING and thinking beyond the level that most of his counterparts gravitated in. "i don't give a damn about grades or quizzes, i need you to walk out of this classroom knowing that you can think, that you can use your own mind!" he yells in our faces. and i am taking his advice - i must learn how to think, and think well.

by saying these things, i am not implying that i would like to attend the king's college anytime soon (maybe one day, just for fun). i'm not even interested in changing my major to philosophy or anything like that. what i am trying to say is that each one of us has a mind. not just a brain, but a mind that can produce its own thoughts, ideas & opinions. and i don't know about you, but i very well intend to use my mind, thank you very much.

wanderlust

2010-05-15T22:06:00.002-04:00

Main Entry: wan·der·lust
Pronunciation: \ˈwän-dər-ˌləst\
Function: noun
Etymology: German, from wandern to wander + Lust desire, pleasure
Date: 1875
: strong longing for or impulse toward wandering

until just recently, i had forgotten how it is to feel adventure in my soul. there has been something missing there, in the center of my being. i thought the emptiness had to do with my former life of coffee pushing and working for "the man". yet nine months relieved of that line of work, and a grim void still present in me down deep below the person everyone sees on the surface.

i have begun rethinking my life and the things that i hold dear. most days are spent performing meager tasks, most evenings spent at home. granted, this year began with me embarking on one of the most grandeur, costly, and lucrative journeys i will ever travel -- the brave return into an undergraduate program (after a 5+ year "break"). even still, a full schedule does not necessarily mean a full life. my mind may be full of movement, yet my heart has felt more comatose than i have ever remembered. and why is this?

the passage from the book of revelation comes to mind, the scene in which Jesus Himself is speaking to the church in ephesus:

I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked men, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen!

in my relationship with the person of Jesus Christ, there is no turning back. i have received too much grace, experienced too much provision, been pardoned of too much offense to ever doubt the existence, the character, the power and the authority of this Man. and yet time and again, i tow the line between abiding in His chambers and living in the servants quarters. i devalue what i hold dearly and i forsake my first love. this betrayal goes far beyond mere spiritual practice and moral belief; i forsake my first love when i fail to live as my convictions profess -- with beauty, celebration, abundance, adventure, pleasure, intention, contentment, intimacy, freedom. when these are lacking in my daily rhythm, i do not feel alive.

living these out will look different from one person to the next. for me, it means being present wherever i am at. i spent the last two days being outdoors, playing and wandering and sweating and breathing in fresh air. it was the most fun i have had in a very long time. the week prior to that, caitie and i found ourselves in various places in the city, eating indulgent foods, watching all kinds of people, exploring unknown streets and avenues, sitting on the steps of st. paul's and going through "where's waldo goes to hollywood" together. everything we did was simple, beautiful and full of life. music is a must in my well-being, live music preferably. jazz, folk, bluegrass, rock - all of it is heroine pumped into my arteries. and boy, have i been pushing needles today.

i must say that these things are not the end goal; the end is not a list of experiences i can journal about and remember always. what lies at the end of living a present and centered life is a depth of fullness scripture says are found in the hands of God: "in your presence there is fullness... ." this fullness causes even the smallest amounts of delight to be kissed with the glory of heaven - whether taking a bite of good food or swimming naked in a lake with your closest friends. our Father in heaven desires to give good gifts to His children and He is willing to do so if we are willing to step out in faith and live and run and dance and shout and sing in the life that He has given us.

Jesus spoke so highly of "abundant life" and "living water" that i am believing more and more than these were not just metaphor, but that abundance is attainable for every spiritual, emotional, intellectual and physical hunger and thirst that we could possibly have. i assure you that i have great hunger and thirst, and Jesus Himself is filling these through even the most simplest pleasures.

prone to wander, Lord, i feel it.
prone to leave the God i love.
here's my heart, Lord,
take and seal it...

rush

2010-04-25T11:29:00.003-04:00

rush. rush. rush.
rush hour in the city.
trump tower's glistening above me.
harlem beckons and i come running.

traffic causing creeping progress
my stomach pains,
abdomen suffering stress
i am late again.
and we have barely passed 52nd.
roadside construction,
the true weapon of mass destruction.

avoided subway like the plague,
alas, i wish i hadn't.
city streets, the sea of yellow and black.
street traffic must be the Lord's purgatory.
no redemption found before me,
pray me into harlem's heaven
before my soul is lost forever.

baby

2010-04-16T13:03:00.007-04:00

you are cruel to anyone who loves you,
you break the backs of those
whose shoulders you chose to rest,
squirm and throw a fit, pouty lips
run away, screaming
forget your mistakes,
you are still a babe, requiring
much attention, coddling and affection
give it a rest now, nap time
is a must to sooth moods,
deep sighs and obviously whines,
refusal to lie and keep quiet.
this changes nothing, our love
is far too indespensible, to see
this union as regretable,
birthed from unexpected stints of
passionate chemical reactions, conversion
from the lack of intimate transactions,
you changed everything, reaching into eternity,
this home will never be my own.

(for adeleigh)

slow and sick

2010-04-09T11:15:00.004-04:00

it has been 8 days since i've had this undefined cough and congestion. i'm definitely over being sick. i've been a mess this week; it's difficult for me to stay focused and on schedule with anything when i don't feel well. i am such a baby when i am sick. i want to be coddled, i want to be held. in my nature, i have a tendency to be the one caring for others, meeting needs and what not. but the tables turn when i am sick. i'm not sick very often; it's a surprise to me that i've been sick for this long. it's frustrating, in fact. there is so much that needs to be done. so many assignments due next week. yet i remain unrested and forced to slow the rhythm of my life down.

every night i will attempt to lay down to sleep. it only takes a few minutes until i'm hacking up slimy obscenities and feeling miserable. most mornings i somehow make it down from my loft bed without breaking my neck, i use the restroom, and i will sit on the couch and fall asleep sitting straight up. it helps that i've been getting up when it is still dark out - not because i want to, but because my body prompts it.

this morning was no different. i climbed down, used the restroom, sat on the couch, fell asleep. but somewhere in between sitting and climbing back into my loft, i remember someone whispering in my ear, "miriam, i want to pray for you." it was my roommate, amy. with one hand below my neck and the other on my back, she began to speak healing and life over my sick body. i have no clue what she prayed; i blame the huge dose of nyquill that i took last night (i still feel slightly drunk and incoherant). but i think about the culture of our apartment, and i can't help but smile. it's a culture of prayer and encouragement, love and grace, and a lot of laughter. there are ten of us total living in this single-floor, 5 bedroom, 2 bath beauty. it sounds cliche, but we are a family. i feel well taken care of here. it goes beyond someone bring me juice or putting an extra blanket on me when i'm sick. there are nights when caitie and i will pray over each other until one or both of us just falls asleep. it's a great way to go, try it sometime. don't get me wrong; there are times when i wished my roommates would all just go away and i could live on my own. and i know that i would absolutely love having my own bathroom and kitchen. yet i know that in the end, i would hate living by myself no matter how clean my place would be. it is freeing to have such confidence that you are not alone.

it's time

2010-04-02T00:55:00.002-04:00

it's time to unwind the shriveled up rinds
covering up the essence of you and i
pulling back layers, the core of "us" decaying
we are two reeds swaying weak in the wind
let the games begin, olymipic-esque shouting match
bitter metaphor and hurt's synonyms we attach, meant to thrust
each vernacular blow attacking attachment, if we must
let us break our backs sprinting to an easy solution
one fireproof tactic to break down dissolution
clearing atmosphere in this room's air pollution

yet if truth prevailed and honesty persistent
the works of our hands and the words of our mouths
are so painfully inconsistent, bearing arms of pride
raising up resistence, prone to delusion
given over to emotional prostitution
brokenness and mistrust leading these kingdoms to war
and if we're being really honest, the only way to
settle the score is for one ruler to concede
sending armies into retreat, letting wounds
bleed over and heal, giving up rights,
sending word through ranks for official repeal

i am tired...
every resource of mine dried up, dehydrated into oblivion
more aware of my darkness within, patience growing paper thin
confusion swirling overhead, still unaware of my actual sin
i may show little remorse, my words may be coarse,
my voice may be hoarse, yet i am ready for change
my right to you i estrange, it's bad enough
that our love has more recorded wrongs that rights
our only hope is to step into the Light
(i miss the reflection of your bright eyes)
define the lines between you and i
it's time.

most

2010-03-30T21:36:00.012-04:00

a day of rain and gloom and dread
enter domain with fangs of venom
one moment of impulse was bred
enter my rage into your heav'n

i sink my poison in your veins
bite into fleshly epidermis
with no regard of poison's stain
my weak remorse is Judas' kiss

now fumbling on my words i find
this rhythm of my words unsure
with rage yielded, fury resigned
ascertain now my heart is pure

humility is my refrain
relinquish power to hold you close
when pride is lost, it's you i gain
with sureness that i love you most

(my creative way of saying, "i'm sorry")

neuro-overload

2010-03-09T13:56:00.006-05:00

it has been a long two days - 3 midterms, 4 papers & a presentation on the phylum kingdom (look it up, it's ridiculous). it was first exam season for me in five years, and every moment of it has been hard work. my brain has been flexed these last few days. i feel the weight of all this info just slightly above my head, pressing down ever so slightly, just waiting for the moment i squeeze it out onto the blue scan sheet. filling out these little bubbles has been so foreign to me. luckily i didn't forget a number 2 pencil!

fortunately, nothing that i've been studying has been discouraging. my former tendency was to quit before things got too hard (that's what she said... sorry, i had to). it helps that i'm older now, ready to work hard. it also helps that i don't have anyone but myself to pay for all of this - from tuition to the lead in my mechanical pencils, it's all me. money can be quite the motivator!

fresh out of high school, i wasn't willing to make the sacrifices - time, money, effort - to do well in college. the only reason i went was because it was expected of me. it is a shame that so many people spend their resources in school and come out clueless as to what they want to do with that very expensive piece of paper. i've learned so much about myself these last five years, so much has changed. it hasn't always been easy, but God has always been faithful. i walk with strength in my legs, gratitude in my heart, and confidence to hold my head up - nothing i come across seems too hard to bear. it's not going to be a cake walk, but i'm ok with that. everything worth fighting for has always come with a struggle. and in the end, no regrets and great contentment.

hurt

2010-02-22T17:04:00.003-05:00

broken. humanity is broken. this wicked, wide-eyed world, mulling over its hurt. hungry for answers, starving for a cure to humanity. fallenness. a lesser-kingdom cell of disease and pestilence, degradating innocence. moving slowly downward spiral staircase toward hell.

i am 25 years old and i have seen many gross things - hearts of men who have both loved and lost, and have never been fully known or free. 25 years old and i have divorced friends, depressed friends, friends who were lost but once were found, friends who have sifted through men's doctrines and morals and lifestyles of service, yet find no wholeness or healing [only found in the loving eyes of a man who also happens to be a God who longs deeply for only broken ones]. these days i have friends who are hardly friends because of dimensions and paradigms and heights and depths of truth between the two places in which we stand. so much offense, bitterness, loneliness, entitlement, independence. and it KILLS ME to think that we all have come from the same roots... yet there is now a grave difference in who we have become.

call this observation pride. but if pride comes with this constant stream of tears that has flowed from my face day and night, week upon week, month upon month, year after year, then i am the most arrogant of us all. God help us, God save us.

known

2010-02-17T09:23:00.006-05:00

i am known, yet i am hidden. parts of my heart still remain unseen, tucked away behind my two warm eyes and my smiling mouth. i am surrounded with no retreat in sight. ask me one more time how my day has gone, only to finish my sentence and change the subject swiftly. i didn't have anything efficient or useful to say anyhow, just ramblings and heart spurts that would probably result in tears and silence. how i wish that today this silence possessed a face i could touch and two ears that would listen. alas, the face that i long to touch is not yet within reach, and the ears that are listening only pick up the echoes of my little whisper penetrating through the earth's atmosphere, into the heavens passed the crystal sea, through the outer courts, the throneroom and into the heart of my beloved.

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see (Him) face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." I Corinthians 13:12 (NIV)

love

2010-02-12T11:52:00.003-05:00

"hold me close, let your love surround me
bring me near, draw me to your side
as i wait, i'll rise up like the eagles
and i will soar to you, your spirit leads me on
in the power of your love." -darlene zscheh, "power of your love

weight

2010-02-08T09:24:00.002-05:00

there is this unidentified weight resting slightly on my chest, the type of weight that is mysterious. this weight creeps in unsuspectingly, but is not always dark. it invokes silence and contemplation; it tills the ground of my mind. there is a beautiful longing in which words cannot express. it is this weight that seems to be present in the moments of my silence. in these moments, my heart is crying out for a home i have not seen and a Lover i have yet to hold. i embrace this cry, and i will be found wanting on the day of His return.

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kabad is the hebrew root for the word "glory" in the old testament. it's literal translation is " to be heavy, be weighty, be grievous, be hard, be rich, be honourable, be glorious, be burdensome, be honoured."

have not love

2010-01-27T09:17:00.003-05:00

"if i speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, i am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. and if i have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if i have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, i am nothing. if i give away all i have, and if i deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, i gain nothing." I Corinthians 13:1-3 (ESV)

these words are so familiar both in our faith as well as in our culture. we refer to this chapter of scripture in weddings, funerals, valentine's day cards, love letters, in messages about volunteering at local and int'l NGO's, in messages about spiritual maturity. this passage is deeply embedded on the surface of our minds, yet more often than not, the essence of these words are found too far from our actions. i am definitely no stranger to this.

last night, i am in my bedroom, organizing all of my class notes and shopping online, spending hundreds of dollars on textbooks. there are papers everywhere, all over the desk and floor. my eyes were strained from re-writing all of the notes from my first week of classes. i am slouched over the computer, when my best friend comes in. something had happened at school earlier that day, leaving her hurt and emotionally unsettled. now, in most instances, i would be able to stop what i was doing to lend an ear and an embrace. instead, i hardly even looked up at her as she was talking. in my heart, i felt this sense of entitlement - i am in school, i am busy, i am not going to have time to do any of this the rest of the week, i have no time for nonsene. how ironic and even pathetic that i, a student in pursuit of a counseling degree, would hardly even give her BEST FRIEND the time of day in a moment of need. what's worse is that, when i did look up in attempts to give her what little counsel i knew to give, she looked at me and simply said, "i don't need you to fix the problem, i just want you to listen."

ouch.

"the wider the gap between what we believe and how we behave, the greater the discord in your life." -professor james long (my psychology prof)

i believe a lot of good stuff, biblical stuff. in fact, i can quote scripture and doctrine with the best of them. yet if i have not love, i am nothing. and in this life, i do not simply want to love, but to love greatly - the kind of love that Jesus describes in John 15:13, the kind of love that gives all. i must marry what i believe with how i behave, and if not, what good am i to my best friend, let alone the rest of the world?