safe haven

when i grow up

2009-10-27T15:25:00.006-04:00

five years to thirty. five years to thirty. i have FIVE YEARS to THIRTY YEARS.

"sobering" is the first word that comes to mind as i ponder this thought. it has been a little over one week since i celebrated my 25th year of life. and what a life i have led thus far! i look upon the expanse that is my life, and i cannot help but smile. so much richness has happened, and SO many good stories of God's grace, His provision and the tangible ways He has directed my steps. i could list random memories and tell tall tales of epic experiences, but this will come in time. today i am looking ahead to what will be my greatest years yet. i am hopeful and even confident that whatever it is on the other side of the unknown that i am currently living in will be the beginning of the rest of my life... and what it is i am to do with the rest of my life. an except from my last journal entry:

"i do no remember the last time i paused my life simply to breathe. every breath freezes my lungs; every sip of chai moves down my throat, defrosting my esophogus, leaving my entire body warmed from the inside out. i do not have much to say - i haven't said (or written) much in weeks. the only thing that comes to mind is that i am now 25 years old, single, jobless, w/o much money or an "education". yet somehow i am flying on the inside. don't ask me to explain it or write a "how-to" book on anything just yet, but somehow i have managed to get this far w/o much to show for myself (as far as the world is concerned) and still feel content and hopeful and free under the gracious heaven above. of course i am shaking shitless if i think about it all too much. but i think i would rather be standing and trembling in the state that i am in than sitting pretty in palaces made by my own two hands."

ten years from now, i will look back on the month of october 2009 and remember it as the month in which perspective and clarity downloaded into my mind. there are far too many reasons for me to be panicked or stressed or fearful. yet every route i take in my mind as i am analyzing my next moves have come to me with a great measure of peace. it's like my brain and my emotions have forgotten how to act and react impulsively. i guess what i am trying to say is that i have surprised myself. as of late, i think i've beaten myself up for living what i have thought to be an unsatisfactory life. when really what i have needed all along was a little time to be silent and think, a little room to breathe, a little help from my friends and a swift kick to the behind. i think i'm ready to grow up now. how it is i got to the point? i'm not entirely sure. i just remember waking up one morning and realizing that it is time - to be the person i have only dreamed of, to have confidence in who i am, to feel contentment even if i am still in en route to the destination set out for me, and to love and be loved wildly along the way.

greens

2009-10-15T14:25:00.000-04:00

many nights i will make dinner for both myself and my best friend, caitie. we have always been busy people, but with this week being midterm week for her, yesterday i thought it would be nice to whip something up and bring it down to her school. the meal wasn't all that hard to put together, and i wanted to be more elaborate with it, but just ran out of time. i met her in the halls of her school, down in the bowels of the empire state building, and handed over the meal. carefully peeking into each container, she picked at the cucumbers and stuffed a slice into her mouth.

"wow, this is good," she said enthusiastically. her boyfriend, elijah, took a bite. "mir, what did you put in this? this tastes great."

my eyes squinted in wonder and my head tilted ever so slightly to the right, i wondered why they were so surprised at the taste of this cucumber. they wondered what flavors i had added to make it so delicious when the reality was that i added nothing to it at all. sliced up and placed in the container, the simple food remained free from anything that would take away from its natural taste. yet for whatever reason, their mouths were in awe of it.

as i thought about this particular scenario this morning, it occured to me. in this city - the great city of New York, we are surrounded by a plethora of cultures all containing foods with complex flavors and unique methods of cooking. the temptation is to indulge in many of these on a regular basis. with so many to choose from, eating well here in this city doesn't have to be boring, although it usually requires a decent amount of money. those who lack the resources to eat well usually are left to eat cheap - artificial flavors, preservatives, canned whatevers.

could it be that we have forgotten what it tastes and feels like to eat fresh things? i know for myself, i do not eat nearly as many fruits and vegetables to sustain me. and now that i am unemployed and budgeting very tightly, my awareness of what i am eating has increased tremendously. and believe it or not, i have managed to not only buy fresh, quality foods, but i've done so on about $20 a week. this is a miracle to do this here in New York. to this i say, thank you, fairway market, angel food ministries and trader joe's!

harsh realities

2009-10-14T11:02:00.002-04:00

it has been exactly one month since my last day of work at the green machine (aka starbucks). all the things that i was hoping to accomplish - a consistency in writing music, consistency in blogging, more time invested into trinity grace, more time for deeper relationships within my MC and lifegroup, discovery of the direction that i would like to move toward. i have hardly scratched the surface. 30 days. it has been 30 days and already i am feeling both bored and bothered by the fact that i am going to be 25 years old and without a college degree or a job. sure, these things are minimalistic in the grandeur spectrum of existence, right? or so they say.

the truth is that i just don't have clarity in what it is exactly that i want. i sat across the table from ray east last week. if anyone has any idea about ray, he is like he yoda of spiritual living. ray is one of the most Christ-like men i have ever come across, and i have come across some really amazing men in my 24.75 years of existence. so ray and i are talking about what my next steps in life are going to be, and he asks me the question, "so what is it that you want to do?" simple enough, right? "what i want to do..." sadly, i couldn't answer him. for far too long i have operated from what i am "supposed to be doing" rather than what i want to be doing. i mean, really, who lives like that? ask anyone! the jobs most people currently work and the lives they currently lead do not fit their ideal lifestyle. this is just how the world works, isn't it?

"you do not have, because you do not ask. you ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. you adulterous people! do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God?" james 4:2-4 (ESV)

the question now is what is it that i really want? and do i actually believe that the desires of my heart and my dreams can come true? it just seems too good to be true.

"beautiful things"

2009-09-28T12:29:00.001-04:00

no offense to beautiful things

but i'd rather wear a t-shirt and jeans

do up my hair on occassion or two

yet i would much rather let my hair down for you

lift up my brush, filled with browns and grays

paint my face on with beauty and grace

yet i'd rather not paint a mask on for you

but show you my eyes, my desirous pools

of emotion and love, of heartache and pain

my smile, my tears, the lines of my face

the beauty that you will find as you stare

has been carefully placed - from my nose to my hair

a little dot placed just above my left eye

my round, rosey cheeks and my lips slightly dry

please look very closely, look beyond what you see

look passed epidermis, see what lies beneath

for beauty's exterior, from forehead to chin

yet the beauty i love is only found within

so take no offense, beautiful things

i would much rather wear a t-shirt and jeans

"I AM"

2009-09-28T05:21:00.002-04:00

Christian. Jesus. Salvation. Offensive. Relentless. I AM

CHRISTIAN. In a sense of emulation to every nation, tribe and tongue, I will become JESUS. In a moment's time, I will throw mud in your eye, bring SALVATION to the blind. OFFENSIVE. With my words I am able to make you cringe, roll your eyes at me, why not just throw your stones at me, I'll turn the other cheek! I am RELENTLESS. I will give you my coat, come close; I swaer I won't jump down your throat. I'll lend you my ear, call all hours of the night. We'll hit up Denny's grand slam, Quizno's toasted and roasted eat fresh like Burger King have it your way. Need a ride? Need to cry? Need to confide? Need a place to hide? I'll even die for your eyes to be opened to the fact that these preachers and church leaders throwing hell in your face. They lack wisdom, they lack grace. Pharisees and their high and mighty laws of condemnation, integrity's misplaced in their need for recognition. Where we lack in love, we make up for by stabbing you in the face with a never-ending flood of disarray and confusion. Because you still haven't heard what Martha did to Sister Clarence who said this and that to Brother Matt who called Pastor Markus lazy and fat, good for nothing, worthless piece of... Well, you get the picture!

Ignorant to peace, naive, lacking in faith, leaving me with a bad name! Turn over tables, set the place on fire, leaving nothing but blood and mire to this den of thieves! I refuse the temple, the priestly robe of gold and scarlet glimmering, shining fabrics and metallic metals of earthly value. To wear my Sunday best because on Sunday, God will surely tread upon any non-compliant soul and strike you with His hand. Church filled with pew-warming babies suffering from diaper rash, diarrhea and an attitude worthy of a beating. Loveless, worthless, such a mess, mentally handicapped, doctrinally twisted, never knowing what it truly means to be a CHRISTIAN.

I am imperfect. I am a sinner.
I am created. I am a servant. I am astounded.
I am bound. In need, I am free.
God gives grace, I am saved.
Christian. Jesus. Salvation. Offensive. Relentless.
I AM.

"you are mine"

2009-09-28T05:16:00.002-04:00

intimately woven and spun
a twinkle in your mother's eye
and your father's unsuspected twist of fate
you were shaped and heavne placed you in
the womb of your destiny
the life God intended you to lead

born into a world where love was fleeting
as rain clouds in the midst of a desert's summer days
i watched as you were lost and out of place
in a heartbeat's time you found yourself
hiding from insecurities
haunting and hunting and raping your psyche
leaving you victim of scoffers, mockers and pharisees
in wait to cast the first stone
throw the first blow at your imperfection

but i formed your lines and patterns
where every bend ends and every curve begins
connecting each piece with ease and precision
i molded you, i knew you from the womb
fearfully, wonderfully, beautifully shaped
i whispered your name
kissed your face........ you are MINE!

your weathered heart and tattered canvass
i restore and wash every blemish and spot
let me
fill every void, every scar, every hold
refine every eye, silence every lie
alas, my love, only i wil ever satisfy.

"morning light"

2009-09-28T05:13:00.003-04:00

it was night
and the demons that haunted her mind
loved to linger in the darkness
with insecurity guiding her
fear driving her
each lie ringing in her ear
the cell she embraced
familiar traces of love she imagined
wrongfully made dreams to esteem her vain ambition
created to fill each false hope
that one day this covenant would be made whole
that she would see the whole world
as lovely and free and pure
filled with life and art
no traces of black or blue or crimson red or white
her fists clenched as she braced herself
visions of mourning evolved into peace (beaten into place)
singing of his love from screaming profanity (taking his name in vain)
yes, these were dreams
'cause the only peace is that he is still asleep
and all is quiet
her heart has no need
but to remain in this moment
sustain this perfect breath
and to pray that morning light will never come

(the speaker in this "transcendent moment" poem is
a woman in a physically abusive marriage.)

a series of poem from my past

2009-09-28T04:57:00.002-04:00

i've been in california for about a week. there is something so familiar in every place i've been - a year has passed and still, no time at all. much of my time has been spent rummaging through boxes of trinkets and notebooks of my childhood. i was a mostly a child up until 2004, i think.

in the spring of 2004, i was in college. this particular semester, i was apart of a poetry class that put out a publication, combining all of the work we had written over the course's 10 or so weeks. i thought i'd post some of the work that had been selected to go into the publication.

hope you dig it. and if not, it's ok too, i suppose.

"Sing of Your Great Love"

2009-09-14T09:03:00.002-04:00

10 years ago this was written, and it still moves me so deeply... Current Hillsong music is fine, but to this day, nothing compares to the "By Your Side" album.

-----

"Sing of Your Great Love"
Darlene Zschech

All that is within me Lord will bless Your holy name,
I live my life to worship You alone.
You brought me out of darkness, and into Your glorious light
Forever I will sing of Your great love
Forever I will sing of Your great love

I love to see You glorified, to see You lifted high
I yearn to see all nations bow their knee
It's You alone Lord Jesus who can cause the coldest heart
To find Your love and everlasting peace
To find Your love and everlasting peace

CHORUS:
Ho-ly, Ho-ly, Ho-ly is the-Lord
Ho-ly, Ho-ly, Ho-ly is the-Lord

VERSE 3:
And Your trumpet will sound,
And all of heaven will know
That the time has finally come
For the bride to take her place
And we'll hear the angels sing

summer of song

2009-08-18T18:41:00.003-04:00

so many melodies being birthed in this season. i wonder what the fruit all of this will be. there was a time when i wanted nothing more than to be a songwriter. i would listen to lectures on writing lyrics and i would read articles and interviews on songwriting. some of the best lyricists were being played on constant repeat over my ipod during that season of my life. talk about forcing material! the stuff i wrote back then was horrible. i mean, in my opinion anyways. but a funny thing happened. sometime last year, without even trying, melodies and lyrics began to come out of me that i actually liked. i mean, heck if i know whether or not anyone else enjoys them or not. but i would pen some words, hum a few bars and things would come together. and they're still coming together quite nicely, if i do say so myself.

i wonder if these expressions are speaking of deeper things. this has been a summer of disarray for me, both emotionally and spiritually. there have been a lot of questions about what i believe and why i believe them, beliefs and ideas and teachings that i once used to build the foundation of who i am. a lot of messing, pulling at the roots stuff... as if i allowed myself to be stripped down and disected. luckily, at the core of all the surgery, there was still some life left to survive. i'm not dead and that's always a good thing, right?

but in times like this, you get to see what you're really made of. it's good stuff! and maybe i've been a songwriter all along, i just couldn't see the material that was sincere underneath all of the formulas and facades.

[untitled]

2009-08-18T18:35:00.002-04:00

writer's note: as of right now, i'm so stuck on this one. its beginning was so organic, but it soon became stagnant.

-----

we laid there as the sun came down
and kissed our skin
i swore i'd never come back
yet i'm in your arms again
this heart will never follow
what my mind has tried to preach
gone to turn around and run away
but my freedom's out of reach
and you have me

we're silent and you hold me
pound my first into your chest
i always need someone to hold me
yet i hate you nonetheless
you have my greatest memories
and i'm trying to forget...

"bite my tongue"

2009-07-11T06:22:00.006-04:00

for now, i lay to rest whatever conversation
we may attempt to find our reconciliation
please proceed to poison every layer of our foundation
there is no use in stepping in, you are barely listening

to the voice of love and reason from which i am speaking
i do believe the tone of voice you use is so misleading
roll your eyes and point your finger, i'll be sure to let love linger
as my silence and good grace absolve your sin

let love in...

(something i had to throw down at 6:38 in the morning...)

come and find me

2009-06-05T08:52:00.019-04:00

when i was a kid, i used to hide in the most awkward places. because i was not very big, i could fit in the tiniest of hiding spots. i was a pro at hiding in any pile of blankets, strategically placing them to ensure the way in which they lay there seemed natural enough for me to remain undetected. and despite my chatterbox nature and outgoing personality, i was very good at being very quite and unseen when i needed to be.

around the time i was 6 years old, my family and i went to visit our distant relatives upstate. you know, it's those relatives you only encounter about once a year. it was these particular relatives that were know for their very fancy house and expensive cars, though i am sure that their house seemed a lot bigger to me then since everything seems grandeur when you're 6. my two cousins had all of the coolest things, and when around them, i did my best to keep up my end of the conversation concerning all of the latest and greatest toy knowledge. even at that age, i knew that money makes people so much cooler than those without it. i remember trying my hardest to impress them.

this particular visit was to celebrate my cousin, luis' birthday. aside from the fact that he had money, he was so funny and everyone liked him. playing koosh tennis on the front lawn of their mansion, i dominated every opponent that dared to challenge me. (please tell me someone remembers koosh balls?) it was time for me to go against my cousin luis. he was a formidable opponent, and at one point, i wasn't sure if i could beat him. then one fateful serve, luis tossed the koosh, swung his racket just strong enough to set me up for victory. everything went in slow motion. i smiled inside because i knew that i was about to own my cousin. eyeing the koosh so very carefully, my racket made the perfect connection. and as the koosh ball sailed far above my cousin's head, my heart sunk in dispair as i soon realized that the ball was lost forever in the high gutters of luis' mansion.

we all know the scene; it was as if i were in the schoolyard of my elementary school. all of the kids gathered around me throwing their mean comments around like paper airplanes, threatening to make me climb the fence to go and get the lost koosh. every apology seemed to be rejected by the angry mob. i tried to convince them that luis had so many cooler toys in comparison. i even tried to remind them that kids in africa don't have any toys so we should be grateful that we still have food on the table. my nerves in disarray and my heart beating in 16th rhythms, i did what i always would in times of conflict. i found a place to hide.

not too much has changed since then. in moments of fear and ridicule, i often find myself searching for a place to curl up and hide away from the eyes of the world. just last night my best friend and i were fighting. for some reason (still unclear ot me), everything i said or did just seemed to piss her off. there was this tension in the room between us that was as tough as nails and as thick as concrete. we tried to be cordial to one another, but finally, i could not take the pressure any longer. so i ran away, i hid on the fire escape and i cried. for two hours. non-stop. (i know, i'm a baby.) as much as i tried to fight it, i felt so rejected and foolish for allowing anyone's words or attitude toward me to have this much affect. to be honest, i felt quite worthless, especially because here is a person who claims to know me and love me beyond measure, yet i ask a simple question as to how her day is going, and i get the sideways glance and the deep sigh of annoyance. i realize that people have their off days, and i want to leave room for grace in those times. (God knows i need grace on my off days!) i love her too much to hold it against her, yet it doesn't negate the fact that it hurts.

over the last several years, i have walked through this journey of allowing the light of Jesus to be a search light into some places of my heart that were hidden and dark and even heavily guarded. there is this sense of security in guarding your vulnerable thoughts and struggles and fears. why should i let anybody else into those places of my heart and mind? when no one else is there, there is no chance of being found out or even worse, utterly rejected. if i do a good enough job at hiding, some may even think that i do not have any insecurities at all. so why risk it? i once believed that in order to gain respect and acceptance by the majority, one must build a reputation that has no blemish or fault. yet funny how it is when you gain the whole world and still feel as though your soul is lost. (sound familiar?)

in running away, i have this skwed idea that it makes me a stronger person to save face. truth be told, i want nothing more than to be sought after and found i those times of hidig. hours must have passed before anyone found me, sitting in my relatives' parked volkswagon minibus. i still remember the smell of the vintage leather and gasoline, curled up in a ball behind the driver's seat, crying and sweating from the California summer heat. my uncle finally found me there, half asleep. after all of that, all it took for me to leave that garage was for him to look me in the eye and tell me that i was forgiven and that everyone at the party missed me. (of course, the fact that he made my cousin come over and apologize helped too.)

time and time again, i have be told to live in "the light" - in vulnerability and accountability. even so, this process of running toward the light instead of away from it has been a hard lesson to learn. it seems as though running and hiding is more in my nature than i realized. or even when i do let people "see me", i have this horrible fear that when they do, they will hate what they see. because really, the rejection of the person you make yourself out to be is not nearly as painful as the rejection of the person you actually are. i haven't completey figured out how to remain in this light, but i am grateful for those who, in times of hiding, will take the time to come and find me.

"a brooklyn bridge is a-burnin"

2009-06-04T11:31:00.003-04:00

i had forgotten what it's like to cross you
you're so unforgiving, you double-crossed me
now i carry my cross in agony
how did it feel to lose me?
if you couldn't have me to yourself, no one else would
is that what you said because you thought you could?

when you plunged the jagged edge into my heart
what did my face look like?
remember always how surprised you were
when i did not die
i loved you then and i love you now
even still, you try to love
but you do not know how

burning bridges
never pleasant, so unncessesary
you've become my enemy
strike up the band
the burial scene is lovely
thank you for the invitation
here's a toast to emancipation

leave then, never say i never told you so
light up the matches that you hold
and put us out of our misery
go right ahead
there is no blood on your two hands
you're always good at playing innocent
it is the end, amen

the cage match

2009-06-04T07:53:00.002-04:00

in the beginning of may, i moved into a very unique living situation - five bedrooms, two bathrooms, nine roommates (with a baby on the way) and a parakeet named keira. it has been a delight living here thus far. no major hitches yet. i am just waiting for someone to break and get into a yell fest with another one of the roommates, and knowing us, it would probably be caitie and i!

we live with this crazy little bird, keira. i first met keira in matt and stephanie's midtown apartment. back then, this bird was shy, she was a bit mysterious and everybody was fighting for her attention. you could call to keira over and over again, but she would simply look at you and choose whether or not she was going to respond. she was a snob of sorts, really.

living on the 22nd floor of a high rise apartment building, keira never saw wild birds fly outside of her window. of course all that changed when we moved here to harlem. the first morning that we were in our new apartment, keira was going insane. she would not stop flying in circles around the room, moving from one window to the next, squawking at the birds flying by, communicating in the same birdy language that only birds know how to fully understand. this bird has developed a whole new personality. even when you don't want her to come, she will get right into your face or fly right into cereal bowls and water glasses. none of the roommates, including keira's own mother, know what to do with her if there really is anything we can do to contain this bird.

as i sat in our kitchen eating my morning bowl of cereal, i watched keira perched in the window, calling out to her peers. it was a call of desperation and desire. i wondered how horrible it would be to have wings and a beak and like-minded instincts as all of the other birds, and still be unable to fully do anything about it. even so, if we let keira free to roam the skies, it is most likely that she would get mauled by another bird bigger and stronger than she is.

keira's new found confidence is quite entertaining. yet it seems that the shock of discovering that she is not the only bird in this world has made these four walls too small for keira to be content, so much so that it is driving her to insanity.

in like manner, i find myself surrouned by people who love art and music and creativity. like-minded people who are doing whatever it takes to do whatever it is they love to do and maybe even make a living doing it. for a long time i felt a bit out of place, as if my dreams were bigger than those i grew up around. but it wasn't long after i left home that i came across others who, like me, have heaps of passion and energy in their hearts to create and do great things with their lives. a lot of ambition with not enough experience has been my story thus far, and i want more than anything to change this. yet i am so afraid that i am like little keira, that if i were to really try and fly with the free birds, i would only find myself getting crushed in the end. is the fight going to be worth the possibility of failure and even great pain? and even so, do i have it in me to fight at all? because in all honesty, the thought of fighting just makes me wanna crawl back into bed and hide underneath the covers.

"home"

2009-06-03T09:13:00.007-04:00

the most requested miriam dumlao original to date : keep your ears posted, the records gonna drop summer 2010! (in all reality, i dunno if i'll ever drop a record, but it's mighty fun to dream, eh?)

------

for so long, you've given yourself away
without ever being loved
endless nights, fumbling through all the pain
to the very end you've come

here i am to hold you, to ease your mind
in my arms is where you'll feel alive

i wanna be the one that you call home
i wanna be the one that you call home
come inside and lay with me tonight
love, rest your head and i will hold
your face to mine, your body close
no need to fear, no letting go
you have me forever

run and hide has come so easily for you
to the shadows you would tread
trusting in no one, longing for someone to lead you from this place
won't you give me all you have

'cause i am yours and you are mine
through the storms and through the darkest nights

i wanna be the one that you call home
i wanna be the one that you call home
come inside and lay with me tonight
love, rest your head and i will hold
your face to mine, your body close
no need to fear, no letting go
you have me forever

bt dubs...

2009-05-17T15:42:00.002-04:00

... way to allow months and months in between posts, miriam dumlao. it's not that i haven't been writing, it's just that i haven't been writing here.

sabbath

2009-05-17T15:42:00.000-04:00

"remember the sabbath day and keep it holy." exodus 20:8, NIV

this has been my goal for today, and so far i have been thoroughly successful. "the authority to cast out demons is found in rest. rest is the climate that faith grows in. it comes out of the peace of God." -bill johnson

i'd forgotten how the peace of God feels passed the surface levels. i'd also forgotten how Holy Spirit's voice sounded until just recently when we got back on speaking terms. i've missed Him. maybe this peace has to do with the fact that my bedroom is FINALLY cleaned and organized. after days and days of unpacking boxes and downsizing my material possessions and finding a home for each item i touched, freedom is what i feel right now. i have not felt this way in a long time...

and so the rest of the day goes. 3:27pm and i'm just now getting ready for the day. after getting ready, it's off to guitar center with luke to spend the money that i've saved by having such a great place to come home. i don't go anywhere after work these days aka i am pretty much an old woman and go straight home if it's passed 10pm. guitar center to church and back home again to hopefully be in bed by 11pm.

i need to sabbath more often.

i am dead

2008-11-08T00:07:00.004-05:00

"If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" --Jesus Christ

for as long as i can remember, i have been doing everything i know to do in order to find fulfillment. i know, i have been intertwined with the story of God for quite some time now. i am beyond familiar with Christian spirituality and the practices that accompany it. but like any other creature of feeling and emotion, i am effected by hunger and hurt and uncertainty and longing. i am not exempt to the effects of gravity and circumstance. and although the God of the Bible clearly states that life does not have to be ruled by these things, it is unnatural for me to live free from them without a conscious effort. it takes work and a constant reminder that i am not the creator of my own path. i can attempt to be, but it only leaves me wanting.

i walked down 34th st one night, on my way to meet my friend, noah. it is a walk i make virtually every day, and yet this time it seemed as though everything was so magnified. a girl with hot, leather boots on, a woman with a great purse draped over her shoulder, a guy on a green vespa, people in the window of starbucks, playing on their macbooks - each of these things seemed to grab my attention, each of these coincidentally is something that i covet. it seems that money and material things don't come so easily for me these days, and given my parents' financial situation, i feel guilty in spending my money on anything i could, in fact, live without. and monetary things are just the surface of what has been going on.

there is this obscure craving for the attention of people that has always plagued my relationships. i am sure that it is more common in others than anyone would care to admit. yet this fact does not make it any easier to live my life without trying to conjure up the security that comes from being known and still loved, doing so in my own strength and on my own terms. there were times when i did receive the praises of men, their words recognizing the talents and abilities that i possess. and i fed off of it like flies on shit. i did everything that i thought was right. yet the more i wanted to be noticed, the more forgotten i felt. i tried and do things to gain respect and love from others, but only find that i have a fist full of unmet expectations and broken promises.

in this process, i have been losing my own soul. i have gathered and gained as much as my tiny hands could hold, but in turn, have lost who i am meant to be. i have been settling for loves less wild and abandoned and freeing. and with this, i beg Jesus to take my lifeless corpse and breathe into it. He cannot do this miraculous work with anything but dead bodies surrendered into His hands.

against the grain

2008-10-21T00:00:00.003-04:00

"you need not to find a cure for everything that makes you weak." from "against the grain" by city and colour

i could be surrounded, in a room full of people, and still feel so far from connection. as much as this family of believers, this church, has met my longing for relationships and community, there is still this underlying sense of loneliness. so my tendency is to surround myself with even more people and events and things. i've done this time and time again. yet it still is not enough. why am i never satisfied?

"if you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you will ask what you desire, and it shall be done for you." John 15:7 (NKJV)

for several weeks i've been dealing with this kind of heaviness, you know the feeling of "blah" that i cannot seem to get rid of. i explained to my friend, ray, that it feels as though a "healthy" toddler chose to sit right on my chest and has yet to get up. there are all these questions in my mind as to whether i'm doing something wrong or not doing something i am supposed to, as if there is one set formula for peace and a clear mind. we all know very well that there isn't, but why then does the intent and motives of my heart speak otherwise? what am i trying to earn here by trying to save face and have it all figured out?

i'm doing too much. ABIDE - this is the word, the reoccuring theme of the evening and for the rest of my life, really. i've been here before; it's the same trip around the mountain that i've taken these 40 years of wandering the desert. what makes it more difficult is that i've seen the streams of living water and the green pastures that the psalmist describes. i've been there, it's the only place to live. but i am not there now, and my heart is left wanting.

the definition of "abide":
transitive verb - 1: to wait for : await, 2 a: to endure without yielding : withstand b: to bear patiently : tolerate, 3: to accept without objection
intransitive verb - 1: to remain stable or fixed in a state, 2: to continue in a place : sojourn

my roommate, jaci, told me that she's been having one of those "what am i going to do with my life" sorta days today. in my head, i was thinking, "that sounds just like what i'm going through." all these thoughts came to mind - how is there really a difference between me and her? if i'm going through the same thing she is, why would she want to come to me for advice? is there any hope for someone i know to make the change from no belief in God to desiring communion with Him if they look at all of my uncertainties? jaci also mentioned that it always seems as though i have things figured out, which is quite funny to me.

i have come to the conclusion that the difference between someone like jaci and myself has little to do with me and so much more to do with Jesus. maybe this heaviness has to do with the fact that i still live under the law of gravity, that i have yet to transcend beyond my own human boundaries. which sucks because this humanity of mine is so confining. but i do not have to stay in that place by any means. that is the difference, that is why i can still seem to have things together - not because of my own strength, but because Jesus makes the claim that i can experience transcendent life amidst this worldly prison. and i trust His word, so i will do what He says and i'll stick with Him.

often times i've heard, "well, i just don't have enough faith to believe in God, let alone that He would care about my insignificant problems." to believe in God is to trust Him, yes. but for my own peace of mind, being such the woman of faith that i am, i have to constantly look back at the good that has already happened to remind me of the reason WHY i can trust Jesus Christ and the claims He makes in Scripture - new life, health, provision, unexplainable joy, peace that transcends understanding, confidence and security in the fact that i am free to be who i am because i was designed in the image of the Maker.

"i have been young and now i am old, yet i have not seen the righteous forsaken or his descendants begging bread." psalm 37:25 (NASB)

filthy rags

2008-10-15T01:19:00.004-04:00

"All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
No one calls on your name
or strives to lay hold of you;
for you have hidden your face from us
and made us waste away because of our sins.
Yet, O LORD, you are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand."
Isaiah 64:6-8, NIV

today is my store's ops excellence day - the day in which my district manager spends the entire day inside our store going over sales, budgets, cleanliness, partner development, etc. needless to say, it's a big deal for everything to look spotless and for everything to run seamless.

last night i was on my hands and knees in the staircase (my store has a staircase because it has a basement for a storage room - it's cool, but then again it's hard work). the baseboards and the stairs needed a good scrub, and i figure if i wanted it done right, i might as well do it myself. it was no surprise to me that there were drips and stains and spots of coffee on the walls, on the railing of the staircase, behind the door to the staircase hall. coffee was everywhere! and rightfully so, we're a coffee house. it just makes sense.

but as i was on my hands and knees, this little rag that was originally a spotless white color soon became the most grotesque brown. and let's just be honest, coffee is oily and gritty, so all the residue of the coffee i was cleaning up just stuck to the surface of this rag, and ultimately stuck to my hands. i could feel old coffee grinds and oils on my fingertips and between my fingers and under my nails. it's a dirty business this coffee business that i'm involved it.

i stood there for a while and was reminded of the passage found in isaiah where the prophet speaks of our righteousness as filthy rags. funny how the more we strive for right standing with God in our own understanding and our own knowledge, the more our natural, gritty, oily, dirty human imperfections defile what should be spotless. i have a tendency to take things into my own hands when i see that there is a need. i push and i pull and i work hard to fulfill what i sometimes assume the will of God is for my own life. and it gets me nowhere, and it is a messy process that i fall into time and time again.

yet in His loving way, our Father in heaven takes a risk of getting a little dirt underneath His fingernails. He takes us, filthy rags and all, and He soaks us in the blood of Jesus. so we were once brown, and we become a crimson red in order to ultimately return to being the spotless and pure children we were originally meant to be. we are His "workmanship", as ephesians 2 says. (the word "workmanship" there is the greek word "poema" where we get our english word "poem".) we are His masterpiece, His finest work. we are His beloved and He is our love.

man on wire

2008-10-07T12:01:00.008-04:00

i'm tired of telling you that you have me
when i know you really don't
i'm tired of telling you i'll follow
when i know i really won't
'cause i'd rather stand here speechless
with no great words to say
when my silence is more truthful
and my ears can hear how to walk in your way

in the silence, you are speaking
in the quiet, i can feel the fire
and it's burning, burning deeply
burning all that it is that you desire
to be silent in me

"in the silence" by jason upton

what is faith? if i could hold it in my hands, i would grasp it tightly, run it through my fingertips and memorize its shape. i would smell it and maybe when no one was looking, i would taste it - touch it to my tongue just to see whether it was sweet or sour or bitter. you would have to wrestle me in order to get it out of my hands, because once i got hold of it, i would not want to let it go lest i forget what it looks like to have faith.

unfortunately, faith is not a tangible thing that i can see or feel. to some, it seems so elementary or juvenile or plain foolish to have faith in the existence of God and Jesus Christ, let alone His master plan for the world and the people living in it. years have gone by since i first decided to purposely write my story as one of faith in the Creator of the universe and His design for my life. so much has taken place in between the beginning and now that i have lately felt as if my faith is not really faith at all, but a mere set of past experiences and stories. i tell these stories quite well, and have used them to stir the faith of others. this is something i am happy to do, and i know that this is gives pleasure to Jesus. but at the same time, i am coming back to the sense where i have run just short of allowing the fire of faith in my heart and my life to fizzle into a heap of smoke. i can talk the talk, walk the walk, pray the prayers and sing the worship songs. but there is still something more that is missing.

it has been such a long time to live my story intermingled with God's story - the details have twisted and turned through the stories of many others, all playing significant roles in how i've come to the place i am in now. still it is not the same. there was a time when i had faith and trust so foolish and child-like that i might as well have been physically clenching it with both hands. but lately the best i can do is remind myself of how God has come through in the past - in provision and safety, in guiding my path for the future, in building my faith and growing my knowledge of Him. the remembrance of these things is good, but to me, it is not enough. i know that He is who He says He is, i know that He is God. but i want this knowledge to come alive again, to become revelation and revival of my spirit.

i spent the evening with my friend, sue. we had a very nice fish and chip dinner, each of us slugged down a lager (her much more smooth than mine, unfortunately). and after dinner, we went to see this incredible documentary telling the story of philippe petit, "man on wire". most of the world is probably not familiar with this name, this man did not invent a cure for some horrific disease, he did not mediate any conflict between warring countries. what this man did probably seems insignificant to most people. but on august 7, 1974, after months and months of planning and conspiring, philippe petit (with the help of some faithful colleagues) strung a high wire 200 feet between the north and south towers of the world trade center. philippe described the moments before stepping out on the wire as feeling near death, and yet the wire was also something that he could not resist.

after reaching a certain point going across the wire for the first time, he said something so real and familiar took over. this friend and co-conspirator, jean-louis, said that when this point was reached, philippe's entire countenance and body language changed. it was as if he went from being so uncertain and frightful to stepping into the realm that embodied who he was meant to be. and the rest is history. petit spent 45 minutes out there (a quarter of a mile above manhattan streets), crossing the wire a total of eight times.

i have yet to perform some historical act for all the world to see and stand amazed, that day may never even come. but whether anyone else observes my life and thinks it to be significant means nothing to me (or at least i would like to think that they mean nothing). i may simply be a girl with some wire and an insatiable urge to walk among the clouds, and possibly look foolish to anyone else around. but if it means walking in the fullness of who i am meant to be, then so be it. the only problem is that i am still so uncertain where to begin, or rather where to go from here. in my mind, i have this picturesque idea of how i want to live - this life of faith and abandonment to no one else but Jesus Christ. but then i still get stuck in the waiting process, sometimes getting impatient and trying to fix things with my own hands and my own plans.

wish i had a solution to write, a conclusion to the questions i have been asking myself. all i have is this prayer - that Holy Spirit would come and collide with my sense again, to awake my soul again and stir up the faith in my heart so that His power and authority would flow through my life.

waking up with last night's lipstick on

2008-09-24T11:16:00.003-04:00

i want to make you happy
but i've fallen, i'm sorry
i thought my wings could hold me up
with angels, not demons
you don't know how cool you are
to find the ways to love me without shame

"down towards the healing" by lovedrug

i've had vacation on the brain for the last two weeks. there is nothing like anticipation to give your heart a second wind, no matter how tired you find yourself. hope is a funny entity, isn't it? as mysterious as it is, it almost seems like a natural thing to have when so much good comes along in life. and i, for one, have not lacked in any good thing. i do not say this with any pride in me, but rather a sense of gratefulness for this overwhelming contentment i feel with my life. God's good graces have definitely found me and kept me close, and for this i am eternally humbled.

in light of this excitement for my time off, i engaged in some pre-vacation festivities last week. in fact, i had so much fun in these last few days that i did not sleep in my own bed for four (yes, FOUR) nights in a row! the details of the nights are not as important as the fact that, in my life, i have an innumerable amount of gracious people who look out for me. to be so far from "home" - my parents and my siblings, yet still feel well taken care of is something that i do not want to take for granted.

so thank you to jewells who, even after i unknowingly snapped at her when she tried to talk to me while i was sleeping, allowed me to take over her bed instead of taking offense and kicking me out onto the streets. i opened the store on saturday morning, and by the end of the night, was too disoriented to even walk to the train to head home. the coffee and conversation was delightful. you are so gracious, my friend!

thank you to matt and stephanie lind! you have opened up your home to me (and luke) a number of times, and you still allow me to do so without hesitation. i would not have been able to stay for sunday night prayer in 12F had you not let me crash at your pad. i enjoy your hearts, your humor and your evident love for all you come across. thank you for bringing me into your family and making me feel so loved!

HATZES! there is no other person i would want to get lost with after lifegroup in the financial district on a monday night but you, my love. we got some good snuggle time in on the train home, althought i don't remember much about the trip cuz i definitely fell asleep for most of it. thanks for showing me your queens pad and even moreso, offering me a place to live if i ever needed it. i'm honored to be doing life with you, friend.

and of course, i need to thank luke and the halsey boys. i am not sure if john knew i was there, but jay definitely gave me a pillow and blanket when i fell asleep on the massage recliner. bryan indulged with luke and i in partaking the goodness of the mozzarella sticks from the fried chicken spot on the corner. and luke slept in the living room with me to insure that no boys were to come out in their underwear. i did not intend to fall asleep at the (now all boy occupied) halsey house, but i did. so thanks, boys, for bearing with my narcolepsy.

i feel quite loved and unashamed to have had the privilege to spend much time in my friends' homes and even cars. (more like alex's car... ask him about it sometime. i've fallen asleep in that car TONS of times!) this is what family is for! to get into each other's lives and businesses, and to put up with each person's faults and meet each other's needs. it's spontaneous, it's messy sometimes, but in the end, it's the best. quite frankly, i wouldn't have it any other way.

home

2008-09-01T09:41:00.005-04:00

along with my rekindled desire to write and journal, i have also been sporatically coming up with hooks for possible song ideas. most of them come randomly - on the train by myself, reading something that will cause my mind to trail, a conversation with a friend, an observation or experience at any given moment. here is one that i cannot stop dwelling on:

i wanna be the one that you call home
i wanna be the one that you call home
so come inside
and lay with me tonight

lay down your head and i will hold
your face to mine, your body close
no need to fear, no letting go
you have me forever

coming from a certain place in my life where God has been bringing to the surface and into His light, the idea of home kept coming to mind - how i have been longing for such security and familiarity lately, when in all reality, my geographical position does not change the fact that my soul (my thoughts & emotions) is longing for a place of safety and rest and essentially, a home.

also, thoughts of love and romance have been lingering in my present thought processes. so this is probably where the intimacy depicted in the lyrics have come from, since i'm not currently in a romantic relationship with anyone but Jesus.

J train observations : my Beloved

2008-08-31T14:40:00.009-04:00

a note i jotted down while riding the train to work at 6:48am on 8/28/08:
"sitting close, with his left arm across her shoulders and his right arm around her waist, his strength surrounded her. with this love, displaying both power and gentleness, she can do anything. her stop approaches and a kiss seals their love. we stop, she steps off the train, and as we ride away, his eyes are fixed on her until she disappears into the distance. his eyes study her figure as she walked down the platform, and the slightest smile lit up his face along with the everlasting confidence that she is his."

it was thursday evening, i turned in at about 9:45ish, which is earlier than usual for me since i rarely find myself in bed before 11pm. despite my exhaustion and the signs of a slight cold coming over me, i could not fall asleep. it was the night before my 7 month anniversary living here in the city, so i began to reflect on what i have experienced, who i have connected with and what God has been doing in my heart. there has been so much good that has taken place these last 7 months, i can hardly go through every detail without remembering more to add onto the list. and yet as i laid there with my thoughts and my emotions being stirred, i began to feel a sense of grief. despite all the greatness that i've already seen, there is still so much more that i want, still so many places where i feel unsatisfied. so following the pattern of my discontent heart and my fallen nature, my time of gratitude soon turned into a time of questioning, begging and even a bit of complaining.

with everything in me, i believe that there are times when you have to approach God with everything on the line, emotions and every part of your soul laid out bare. sure, there are moments of beauty and joy when you spend time with God in prayer and reflection. but as important as those times are, the times of anger and grief are just as crucial in this life of faith that we lead. there was a time in my life when i did not believe this, but just the opposite. i would very rarely let my moments of hurt or darkness show to any person, including God (which is pretty ridiculous since He's already aware of my details). somehow subconsciously in the history of my knowledge of God and christianity, i believed that it was weakness to show signs of struggle or brokenness. what a misconstrued view of the gospel, but i am sure it is more common in the minds of self-professed christians than we would like to admit. for the most part, this is no longer the case, since i LOVE nakedness now (thanks to YWAM, shirley brownhill and stephanie ann dececco goodin). and that is definitely the place i was lying in bed on thursday night.

so i laid there in my bed, conversing with God, and the whole thing started out great, but soon became a stream of rambling and nonsense. the conversation began to head farther south the more i complained, and it really took a turn for the worst once the words "loneliness" and "fear" came into play. i've always had this tendency to cling to people. it's been this pattern that i've grown to despise but still can't seem to fully shake, in which i would not only become submerged in my connection with a person and/or a group of people, but i would use these connections (at least temporarily) in attempts to appease my cravings for belonging and identity. the reality is that, as marvelous as they are and as much as they cause me to feel loved and worth-while, people still fall short of once and for all fulfilling the void that i'm left with time and time again.

"why do i feel so homesick tonight, Lord?" i asked, with tears streaming uncontrollably. and in His kind nature, He simply whispered, "it's not a place or a person that you crave tonight, miriam, it's Me. you think you want something or someone familiar to connect with in this very moment, but what you really need is what no one else can give you."

how do you respond to something that you've already known? especially words that you've constantly heard over the course of your life. my initial reaction is to feel guilty for giving my affections away so futilely; it's a lesson i've been taught and have yet to learn. the temptation to feel angry at myself and/or feel unworthy of grace tries and comes in. and yet He still chooses to silence them all - the lies of unworthiness, the sense of anger or guilt, the darkness attempting to further plunge me into grief and fear. in bed that night, it was as if God Himself walked into the room and with His commanding voice shouted, "enough is enough! No one else will define you."

to quote my beautiful friend, caitie hlushak's favorite bible verse, isaiah 62:4 states, "you shall no more be termed forsaken, and your land shall no longer be termed desolate, but you shall be called hephzibah (which is literally translated "My delight is in her")" (ESV).

and as i began to fall asleep, Holy Spirit began to remind me of words that He's always spoken over me: "you are my beloved, you are my desire, you are my love. you are worthy of my life, of my affection, of my time, of my blessing. you are meant to live for eternity and not for mortality. you crave more love because you will never be satisfied until we are together, and we will be together soon. live well, love others well, but remember that you are mine." something so simple as His hand over mine or His voice whispered into my ear really does make my heart leap and long for more. is it any wonder why romance, love and marriage causes us to feel alive? the look on that man's face as he watched his wife walk down the subway platform, the smirk on his face and the light in his eyes - even in the slightest sense, the connection between this man and this woman spilled over into my own heart, as i am learning that i was meant to live in this same love and desire, that this same love and desire is CONSTANTLY felt for me.