sunshowers

I think one of the things I like best about Opie is that I can use and talk about big words with him and not feel pretentious.
Meandering...trepidation...anomaly...bludgeon...meh...

My head is jumbled today. I am happy; I am at peace; I am excited; all this contributes to my cluttered mind and generally hard-to-focus thought life. Friends flash through my mind; scenarios join them; I walk in a dream world, yet everything is true. Going to the college, earlier today, was a good move. Even though I didn't accomplish what I'd wanted to, I saw Drew, and that is a good thing. There aren't many people I like well enough to be friends with that I don't need to constantly guard against their thinking I'm in love with them or vice versa. Opie, Drew, and (obviously) the Farquahar sisters just about cap the list. I needed to hang out with one of this sort today, and God worked that out. He's awesome that way.

It is going to rain. The sky is gray and white and an even, powdery blue; there is wind waving the trees and the tall grass; the squirrels are rushing about, looking for cover. I cannot write. Instead, I retreat back into myself, into my dreams, and rest.

alone again, again alone

Thank God I have both mind and heart. The latter can be completely confused and worked up while, thanks be to Him who is my Joy, I understand that He is in control, how and/or if my emotions are mixed up, and - typically - what my course of action should be. I'll not say that I'm always happy with what He wants me to do (or even that I know what it is 100% of the time), but He didn't just stick this crazy, loving, longing heart in me and give it no guidence whatever.

He's teaching me a lesson that I have consistently begged off in the past: that I need Him more than I need people. I hate this lesson, because learning it involves losing the support of those close to me. That He knows what He's doing, I never question. That I need to learn this lesson if I don't want to end up abusing or being destroyed by my love of people, I have seen firsthand. That I can live with Him alone, I have done, yet still cannot really get my heart to believe. The problem is that I love people in general and specifically those I trust, but all save my family are more than eight hours' drive away from me.

Simply stated: I like touching those I love. A lack of people I can touch or just be myself around creates an emptiness in me. With the people I love, I tend to express myself physically - hugging, messing with hair, holding a hand (or finger!), or simply pressing a shoulder in comfort - and (if they're not near me) I miss this.

Dang it! I'm surrounded by bubble-people! I can't even look someone in the face for more than the conventional four seconds without their flinching! I know so many people, I have a small number I love, and I can't seem to touch hardly anyone - not even a handshake! This - in case you cannot tell - troubles me.

Lord, I know that I am stubborn. You know me; You know how much I have always hated this lesson, and You have put it off for my sake before. I know that I need to learn it, but, Father, I really don't want to. "Give me an undivided heart." Let me follow You, give me the strength to do what I know You want me to. Give me the grace to obey.

There's a song that's inside of my soul...

Right now, I'm listening to Switchfoot's Only Hope. It's a song about being unable to express one's heart; about trusting God "in the infinite cold"; about God's love and comfort. I feel so very lonely right now. Even so, I know my Lord is with me.

I read a statement once that I immediately knew applied to me: that those who ride the highest highs also reach the lowest depths. I have been both places many times. I've found that these troughs bring me closer to God and that they're often quite small - I wasn't named "Joy" for no reason! He never fails to bring me back up, but these times when I let my emotions have their play and allow them to swamp me - simply because if I restrain them, I'd end up a robot - are hard on me. These are the times that I want to lean up against a friend and just have them there. I don't want to talk (even though I usually end up writing to get it all out); I just want to cuddle.

Ach, Lord, hold me tight. Hold me tight again, because I don't know what on earth is going on. I am tired and so very confused. Be my strength, Father. You have called me "little Israel"; You have promised that You would uphold me and work Your plan through me. Right now, I don't feel like a conqueror. I feel like a little, lost child. Find me, Lord, wherever I am. Embrace me, let me cry in relief and in comfort; let me weep into Your shoulder as You squeeze tightly and run Your hand through my hair. Remember how small I am and that You are the only reason I can stand. Carry me, Lord, and let me rejoice in You.

Two Pianos

I so look forward to going home, to my true home, and sitting at Your feet. This world confuses me. Everything is so beautiful, so wonderful, and yet so many things are hurt or broken. People, especially, seem to be full of things that I cannot understand. They hurt, they ache, they fall, they worry, they rant, and yet they refuse You. Why would they choose that? And yet, for all my confusion (and even occasionally, inside, superiority) don't I do the same thing? Wasn't I just writing about that today? Have I forgotten what I wrote?

I do adore shiny, dangerous objects. Most toddlers do. There's an intrinsic facination that pulls me toward what is not safe, what is not right, my doom. And, even though I love You, Father, my hope is that You'll turn Your back and let me play with what I know I should not touch. I wait for the first opportunity; staring quietly, cooly, covetously. Yes, I know knives are sharp. That, in fact, is part of the facination. There is nothing like them in all my touchable toys; they are unique and, to my mind, so very lovely.

But You love me. You know how much, how very deeply, this knife could cut me. I love You, Father. I long to obey You. How then - why then - does this hold such sway over me?

Don't let me grab this knife, Father. Keep Your eyes on me. I can stand against anything then, when I know how much You want me to. Give me strength to obey.

I want so much for this all to be over. I get so tired of fighting, of guarding my heart, of being hurt because I don't like holding shields. Will You guard my innocence? Will You guard my heart? Will You be in me? Please, Father, keep me here only as long as You're with me. I couldn't stand it without You.

Carried to the Table (Leeland)

You really do love me, don't you, Father? I love knowing that. I love it when You cuddle me, when you let me be a silly, little child in Your arms, prattling and smiling foolishly. You love me so much. And the thing is, I'm such a little nut. I run hither and thither, usually at least TRYING to do Your will, and making a nuisance of myself. I feel like a toddler rushing about underfoot in the kitchen as You, my dear Father, are making dinner. "Can I help? Can I taste? Why are You putting that in? Ugh - I don't like that stuff! Oh! Can you play with me? Can I carry the plates? Daddy, what are You doing now?" And You, my Father, You answer my questions and catch me when I trip and laugh at my antics, but You also keep me from touching the stove or playing with the knives that I think are so very pretty.

You said that no one would enter the Kingdom of Heaven unless he was like a little child. I guess I'm supremely qualified! I'm a foolish, little child: I want my own way (even though the knives are sharp), I want to have and feel like I have Your full attention at all times (except when I'm doing something I don't want You to see), I want to feel important, and I need (and know I need) Your help in order to get anything done unless it's a catastrophe (those I'm quite good at alone!). And, still, You love me.

Thank You, Father.

Sleeping....Waking....the Arms of God...

You were never in my old dreams; why are you in these? The same dream has been in me now for almost a week, and I don't remember it from ever before. The same things happen - sometimes I remember an additional scene, or get clarification because I wake up later, but (as is typical for me) there are no changes to the storyline - and there is no real ending. There never is to my dreams.

I dreamed I hurt you. You were crying - in the middle of the stairway, just tears - but my hurting you was necessary, my friend. Still, I felt badly about it. I returned to you; I accepted your gift; we talked. You pushed; I refused; you gave up and we remained good friends. My father - the figure that's nothing like my earthly father and yet I know, in some dreams, is my father (and therefore think of, when waking, as my Father) - protected me from those wrongs that you couldn't help trying to push me into.

It is comforting to me that, in my dreams (which have always been prophetic), this does work out. I want so much for God to rule my life; you do not, and yet you are my friend. You stand alone on a high ridge, torn and bleeding from the climb, wondering how you'll make it down the other side - your destination. You rely on yourself for the entirety. Strong, wounded, lost, proud friend...but God has let me speak to you of Him and you do not refuse me. Please, listen to Him even more than to me; find Him and the purpose and strength He gives.

Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty

How strange that I - with my passionate, deep-rooted love for people - should have none of my dear friends left in this place. I'm so personable: at my college, I know the security and the janitors by name. I also know just about everyone else. Still, I have been burnt so many times because of that general friendliness that I hold my heart very close to myself. I only show it to those I not only love but also feel I can trust absolutely: a number that I can count on one hand.

Over the years, they've all moved or I have moved away from them. I helped the last friend pack his and his wife's house today; they're moving over 1000 miles away. I feel so very lonely right now. I want a friend - MY friends. I don't want just anyone...I want the people I love.

But You, O my Lord, have chosen this for me. I don't understand it, but You have given me peace. I know that this will become something that allows me to support others; just like every other hurt I've ever gone through has been. Give me strength to stand, Father. Be with me, help me. Without You, I will fall, and I will never get up again. Oh my Lord, You are my hiding place. Hide me in You and cover me in Your love. Make me whatever You want me to be, because it's only in You that anything has meaning.

I only write here occasionally - usually that occasion is rather huge. Today, it's just a simple little "back to college" post. I have to admit, I didn't think I'd enjoy going back this much (especially since all my hard classes were today) but it ended up working out that way.

For the first thing, all the janitors and security people still recognized me from last year. As I passed M1 I gave my salute to the lady that smokes there every morning and got a "Hey! You're back! Looking forward to this semester?" As I kept walking, a security guard in a golf cart pulled over and chatted about my classes. He gave me a hearty, "Take care now! Make sure to say Hi and Merry Christmas to your family for me!" Once I got to T building (Economics), I was embraced by a teacher, exchanged jokes about PineSol with another janitor, and got to sit next to a friendly face in the form of Jarrod (from English last year) while recieving a lecture on Macroeconomics.

At that point, the good times were just beginning. I went to A building for Science and got a major reality check (this semester, I will need to work even harder). I then asked God to please let me see my favorite happy tonic - Opie - and He obliged. It's really good to see an actual friend amidst a sea of unfamiliar (even / especially familiar) faces. After a short bout with College Algebra in the heart of the glass-encased rat race that we students get to call "G-building", I scurried off to drink something warm and finish homework.

I was able to go home early today. That is an incredible blessing. Life is getting back in motion after a respite that really wasn't that much of a resting period. It's good to know what I will be doing day after day - to have a schedule to plan around and a budget to work with. I've been living a more or less purposeless life for the past six weeks, and I must admit that it does not agree with me well. I truly enojoyed the time spent with my family. I deeply value the time we spent talking, praying, and sleeping in (especially the first two). At the same time, I'm ready to get back to work - to have tangible goals that will be a challenge for me and to taste victory once again this semester. For me, that taste is kind of like a sip of orange juice after a hard run; it's flavorful almost to the point of shocking, cold, textured with the pulp that comes from being pressed almost to nothing, and yet incredibly satisfying.