then and now

"the tragedy is that our eternal welfare depends upon our hearing, and we have trained our ears not to hear."
- a.w. tozer

"i am drowning in a digital sea,
i am slipping beneath the sound."
-dustin kensrue

in the span of fifty years we have moved from not only ignoring the voice of God, but substituting auditory idols in It's place. the undoing of this tragedy will take a miracle alone, and thank God He came for the deaf to hear. all we need to do is admit we're truly deaf...

inevitability

this morning in the shower, i thought the body wash was conditioner.

my hair smelled like island mist all day.

i knew it would happen eventually.

open water

how do you tell someone who is enslaved, of life beyond their chains?
can you convince a freed man to remove his shackles, when they're all he's ever worn?
is it wrong to expect a captive to embrace freedom?

i walk ocean shores, picking up
skeletons on the way, searching for
corpses not yet dead.
i want to send shells back to the
body beside them.
love is my cause
freedom is my mission.
i watch the ocean's fingers grasp for more beings.
the atlantic is hungry. she yearns, with me, to
bring them home.

dusty red against a sandy background.
i pick her up carefully,
expectant.
i whisper
"breathe".
lifeless and immobile, the being inside is no longer
alive.
had she been trapped on the ocean's edge?
if i had been here before her death, i would have told her how
near
she was.
i would have carried her myself and
baptized
her in
immortal waters.
her whitewashed shell is a clever facade.
but she is dead, and i am too late.

fear

"have you decided who you're voting for next year?" she was referring to the 2008 presidential elections and, honestly, i hadn't even thought about it. our conversation rapidly progressed to reasons behind each potential candidate and another question was posed. "well, what do you think about the war? are you for it?" and i told her how i didn't have a direct answer to that either, but really i wanted peace, and sooner than later. she agreed, i think. "yes, what we need to do is just win it and get out. and we need to choose someone who is going to keep our country safe even after we're out of there."

we talked about our lives, and i shared a story of passing a hitchhiker three times in one day, feeling convicted about passing him by, lamenting my hesitation at helping out a stranger. "oh but promise me you won't ever pick anyone up like that! you never know what they might do...hurt you or something." her tone reaked of fear, though it was cloaked in the comfortable guise of safety. and i hung up feeling broken inside.

ashamed because we've turned our attack on sin into acts of violence against ourselves.
grieved because we've allowed the what if's from the "bad people" in this world to speak louder than the conviction of the holy spirit.
and broken because a child of God lives her life in fear, and doesn't even know it.
i'm pretty sure she's not the only one.

sovereign love

God is overwhelming me with his love. everyday, it seeps into my soul and joy is the only plausible response. for the first time, my heart understands how unflinchingly God's love clings to me and it is setting me free from too many burdens. i didn't know living could be this light, and i'm beginning to grasp the difference between heavy and hard. his yoke is light, but sometimes the cross is hard to bear. this morning, another presupposition was shattered as i realized another way God's love affects how i live, and the freedom it bestows.

clue is my favourite board game, hands down. and it's pretty simple why; i love figuring things out. for me, it's the difference between a math problem and a poetic interpretation. i don't care how the problem is solved, just tell me its meaning. what and why. and i bring this part of my personality into my relationship with God. what is the next step in my life? what is my calling? why did this happen to me?

only recently have i been able to face my stubborn and relentless questioning and see how i've allowed myself to be limited by asking them. fear had been inhabiting the whats and whys of decision making, because there was always room for mistakes. but when God chose to reveal his love to me, untainted by my failings, and relentless in its pursuit, i was and am able to embrace the unknown. after all, perfect love casts out fear.

knowing God loves me doesn't tell me what will happen to me, what God wants for me, or even why he wants it. it simply means whatever does happen will be because God loves me. the questions don't matter because i already know the answer.

and it's not that i didn't believe he loved me. on the contrary, i had already determined the kind of love his was. manipulating, condescending, controlling. but it's not that at all. and i can't explain just how it is, because love like this can't be defined by words. it must be experienced. the only thing i can do is tell you how it's changing the way i live my life.

perfect

if only you knew love
not about love
not of love
but love

if only you knew how much of it there is
how forgiving it is
how pure it is
how free it is

if only you knew how it looked
how compassionately
how blamelessly
how patiently

if only you knew these things.

then maybe you would know freedom
would know grace
would know faith
would know hope

but mostly, maybe you would know love

own me

Take all that I am,
And heal me
With the blood of the Lamb.
Mold me
With Your gracious hand;
Break me till I'm only Yours-
Own me

japanese anime just doesn't cut it

i turned down the chance to try some clam tenderloins tonight. the 7 year old who offered them to me tried to convince me of their greatness. "they're from under the clam's tongue." Nope, still not biting. 10 minutes later he picks up our conversation.

"yeah, some people just don't like some things and other people don't like other things. sometimes people just don't like things...i don't like broccoli."

i suppose some things in life are better left mysteries.

Jesus doesn't sell makeup

Her name was Sheila. I know this because she introduced herself almost as soon as I’d sat down. She was a mom, I was a babysitter, and we were both at the park. I watched her meander over to my park bench, carrying an oversized blue bag. We smiled and exchanged names; suddenly I had a new friend.

“You know,” she began, plopping down beside me “park benches can make or break a park. There aren’t very many parks around here that have good benches for the parents...or babysitters.” I laughed politely, surprised at this forthcoming yet sincere woman. The conversation had barely reached a pause, when Sheila pulled out a thin, glossy magazine with bright and vivid lettering across the front. Hesitating only for a quick breath, she launched into the real motive of our one-on-one.

“Well, I sell Avon and you just seem like the kind of woman who would like something like this. Have you heard of us before?” I nodded, speechless at the sudden turn in conversation. “Great! Here’s our latest magazine and you just take this and look it over. Would you be interested in purchasing any of our great products today? We have some terrific sales going on!” My negative response wasn’t enough of a deterrent. “That’s ok, maybe some other time. You just take this and show some of your friends and you know, if you’d ever like to host a party you just give me a call.” Her name and number had been conveniently labeled on the back. She hooked her bag onto her shoulder, beckoned to her daughter and gave my knee a little pat before disappearing into a sea of mothers. “You have a good day now!”

It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did. It shouldn’t have bothered me that I’d been another victim of cosmopolitan manipulation. It shouldn’t have bothered me; she was doing her job. But it did, because it reminded me of an earlier encounter. Only the product wasn’t makeup and the person with the sales pitch was my grandmother.

She was driving, and I was nine, sitting in the passenger seat of my grandparent’s station wagon. With brown side paneling, plush royal blue interior, and a 10 seat capacity, it could have passed as something out of The Brady Bunch. We pulled up to the window outside Roy Rogers and she handed the 20-something-year old cashier ten dollars and a tract. “Now dear, have you ever heard about our Lord?” The girl’s nod was nearly imperceptible and I quickly found something to look at outside, praying Grandma would keep it short and sweet. She did, but not before making her futile delivery.

Being a Christian had become humiliating. I wanted to apologize for the gospel.

When did the Bible become not good enough for telling people about God’s love? When did we turn God’s love into a paper-producing industry? When did we become the money-makers in the temple and how long until the very thing we’re trying to sell turns over our tables? We’ve turned Romans into an 8 point play-by-play and conveniently demoted the good news into something that fits our fast paced lifestyles.

If love is the movement, why are we sitting still?

chase this light

hello, i'm in maine.
sometimes i repeat that to myself because i forget how far north i am. but i'm quickly reminded of that when i step outside. tonight though, i'm in a wide, white, wicker chair positioned amiably in front of a very active wood stove. tonight, there are so many possibilities; my world spins, heavy with the weight of potential. i want to tell you of hope, and of love.

love. i am wrapped in it.

but now is not the time to elaborate. in this moment i want only to ask you to rest, as i am. we are the image of the invisible, sculpted in the likeness of the I AM. we are born to be, and to be still.

Moses answered the people, "Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

the shade of poison trees

i spent this past weekend in New York City. and in the entirety of the weekend, experienced a variety of situations. sitting in times square traffic for 1 + hours because of a polish parade and nearly getting crushed between two rapidly closing subway doors may give you a hint. i even have the grease stains on my not so lucky skirt to prove it. but not once in any of those 4 days did i see a taxi cab drive backwards down the street. (something i've only ever seen my mother do.) i'm not talking about driving the opposite direction on a one way street. i mean using reverse to do exactly what you shouldn't, and using the rearview mirror as your windshield. i suppose despite all of this i wouldn't have been surprised had i seen this in the city. new york taxi drivers are capable of nearly anything. but boston?

our bus back to bangor stopped for a 40 minute layover in boston. beckah and i walked around for 30 minutes and she decided to go back to the bus. i stayed outside and walked around few more blocks. as i waited to cross by a street corner, i saw, unbelievably so, a taxi cab backing up a very major bostonian road. perhaps this wouldn't have been so bad had he just scooted back to a person he'd failed to pick up, but crossing over an intersection... i don't know if i was more amazed at his actual skill in succeeding, or his amount of insanity to even try it.

but i still love boston.

thinking, that's all

sometimes, just as i'm leaving awake and before i enter sleep, i have these thoughts. i don't know where they come from and i'm still not sure which side of consciousness they live in. i'm not dreaming, that's sure enough. yet i'm not awake enough to realize where this new stream of thought begins to flow, i'm only able to follow it once it emerges. occasionally i'm lucky enough to remember...

last night i had a thought.

i entered "school" in grade 4, but home was my first classroom. year after year i followed lessons, memorized facts, thrived on information. and after high school, i made the expected (and desired) choice and went to college. fast forward through four more years of heightened learning with a slightly larger, more eclectic group of peers. i could finally learn what i wanted, where i wanted. education was a choice and i greedily accepted it. love of learning + fear of the unknown = post-secondary education. a logical decision.

only, after graduation came the brevity of it all. less than a quarter of my life spent in an uncomfortable desk chair, inside white-walled rooms with bright projectors and an ensemble of ragamuffin professors. and then, the world.

and i realized underneath the facts and stats, the dates and theories, i'd really been taught to learn. imperceivable guidelines had been offered, even forced, and i accepted these limitations without hesitation. structure? yes, please. rules? even better. i entered into a tested, nearly fool-proof way of how to live life. in return, i was given safety, predictability, answers. like i said, i love learning.

but what do i do when the learning runs out?
what i should have been doing all along.
experiencing.

i was taught how to think at the expense of not thinking for myself.

so maybe it doesn't really make sense to you. i have trouble understanding it myself. who can expect thoughts after midnight to maintain any level of coherence? but just think about it for a moment.

does our learning shape our experiences, or do our experiences shape what we learn?

1.21 gigawatts??

my car was filthy, so i vacuumed it. but it was raining. i tried pulling it as close to the garage as possible but by the time all the crumbs disappeared and the carpets were febrezed, my entire hoodie was soaked, as well as the front seat. then it occurred to me, that's why every car should have doors like this.

just one more reason why the 80's are easily the best decade, ever.

welcome to september

i hope you didn't notice me staring, wide-eyed and mouth agape. it's just that i didn't expect to see you three times in one day. i remembered passing you this morning on my way into town. there aren't many hitchhikers around here so any body on the roadside is new. summer still sweeps through the air but your shoulders were hunched as you clutched a half eaten sandwich to your chest. i slowed down to 50 as i passed you by and i remember thinking rhetorically 'Jesus?'. must have been the long brown hair - yours matches the nearly every church painting.

you can imagine my surprise then when three hours later i saw you again; i guess i assumed someone would pick you up on their way. this time, we were both heading the same direction. i might have stopped to drive you the remaining few miles into town if i wasn't already late for work. i didn't know you were headed to the store, that i would see you here now.

the people i work for, they needed me to run an errand and pick up some milk. do you see me? probably not, you must pass a lot of cars and faces walking 20 miles in a day. you're heading in and i'm just leaving, but i want to say hi. your sandwich is gone; are you still hungry? i would buy you something to eat, if i had time. but they needed me back at the office, sorry.
maybe next time?

and sometimes, silence is the only sound

vivaldi's four seasons. get into it.

sometimes the unexplained can define you

and there are moments i just want to run away from it all. the other afternoon, for instance. as drove by i some railroad tracks, a queue of dully painted train cars caught my attention.

there is something quite romantic about train cars. not candle lit dinner or getting engaged romantic; more like rocky beaches and tea on rainy days...nostalgia i suppose, though i have no idea why trains would carry any significantly warm memories for me. only two train experiences stick out. one was part of a scenic half hour tour in strausburg with a snack bar and cushy seats, like the kinds they have in churches. the other, when i was five and i distinctly remember chewing bubble yum, not making it to the bathroom on time, and not being able to sleep (the latter being the result of the former). and still, the boxcar children lined my childhood bookshelves and the train scene in fried green tomatoes still remains one of my favorites. trains evoke a sense of adventure, travel, spontaneity. perhaps that's what came over me the other day.

the longer i gazed at those three stoic cars, the more inviting they became. i conjured up an adventure and i watched myself pull the car off the road. think of it. leaving everything for a large rusty box and a trip to anywhere. would people wonder where i had gone? but that mystery would only add to the excitement. i could have a tent in the woods via some cargo in a train.

i didn't go through with it. but someday, maybe. hopefully...
if you haven't heard from me in awhile, your best bet is to start checking the next train that rolls into town.

there's a type of freedom that can tie you down

the mind of a 4 year old, and other revelations.

"ok now we have to pray. hold your hands together and say what i say. hey, keep your eyes shut!
dear God, i love you and have a good night and sleep well and brush my teeth. amen. ok, now i have to do my crab walk."

i wish i could go into all that's being unveiled to me right now. sadly though, i'm not aware of a lot of it either. i'm lately overwhelmed, in both good and bad ways and the only recent realization i can share is that it's not about where i am going, or what i am doing, but who i am becoming. forget about careers, jobs, my "calling". seeking His face is my calling.

there's a certain kind of pain that can numb you

it's raining outside tonight. no torrential downpours, just a soft, misty summer rain. this weekend has been one of constant goodbyes. yesterday stephen left for college, and i said goodbye to jon too since i won't see him either. tonight i hugged two heathers goodbye; a friend and a cousin. and tomorrow i'm leaving again as well. i suppose the rain is appropriate then. it's set my mood, a gentle sadness. i've stopped fighting goodbyes, but the goodbyes have yet to become easy.

in open fields of wild flowers

there was a time not so long ago when i truly lived life. i didn't just see things, i experienced them. music didn't just shatter silence, it expressed emotion. moments didn't just happen, they were seized. spinning in fields made me dizzy. staring at stars made me feel small. flying kites made me feel light. laying in the middle of the road made me...well, crazy i guess. deep conversations inspired me to be a better person. genuinely caring for someone, no strings attached, made me hope Love could change the world. i couldn't stop time but i didn't feel crushed in its routine or rushed in its urgent passing. i suppose i was ignorantly living the fine line between patience and expectancy. was.

gradually i became lost in the paranoia of people pleasing...what would they think of me? and it wasn't all spurred on by vapid assumptions. i KNEW what people thought of me...i know what they still think of me. it's amazing how you can spend your whole life completely innocent, your motives entirely pure, and all it takes is one person questioning your intent, doubting it even, to make you second guess everything you do and everything you are. and i know it's because i don't allow my entire source of validity to come from the one Being whose opinion outweighs any human's. and i don't mean for this to sound like an excuse...but it's hard. especially when the people who pass the most judgements read out of the same Book you do.

Silencing the most tangible voices in order to hear the invisible whisper isn't easy. still, i'm trying to let go, let myself be free, let myself be. ironic though, trying to do the state of being.

oddities

today i had to drive to a town south of p.i...about 20 minutes away. i had just put my hand out the window when i simultaneously heard and felt a very large and squishy bug hit my hand. the only thing that made it even more disgusting was the splattering of blood all over my palm and fingers. i couldn't stop anywhere to wipe it off so i spent the rest of the ride with my hand out the window and washed the dried up bug blood off when i got to work. i kept my hands inside on the way back.

also, i believe i saw shawn cunningham at the irving gas station in town. for those of you who don't know who that is, well...less than sub par news anchor for aroostook county should do it. for those of you who do know who she is, did she get a hair cut?

and i was slightly creeped out at the library earlier when i heard a class on sign language taking a break and talking about a double homicide/suicide that happened nearby a few days ago.

seriously, i love this state...

i'm running

by kristian stanfill It seems I'm never free from a past that holds me down a past that haunts me now but You, You break the chains You shake the bondage off of me You help me to believe I'm free to live to breathe to walk with You I'm running I'm running to leave the past behind no shame to feel no shame to hold me down I'm running I'm running I'm never looking back With You I'm strong and I can dream again It's time to move along I hear You calling me to bigger better dreams You, You give me strength You give me everything I need help my eyes to see I won't look back, I'm moving on I'm leaving the past, the past is gone and I won't look back, I'm moving on I'm leaving the past, the past is gone

time

i went home the other week, for the first time in 3 months. and i can say, without doubt, that driving 14 hours, in any direction, from 6 pm - 8 am the next morning isn't healthy or safe. but i'll probably do it again, sometime. it was good to be home...but short. i only had 2 full days to connect with friends in york, and a long weekend with my family. it was so encouraging to see people, but i can't help still feeling like i started so many conversations and had to leave mid-sentence.

i'm trying to learn contentment - it's not easy. i'd much rather be terrified of going overseas, or changing the world, or doing something really "big", then be terrified of waking up each day and doing the same thing over again. from all i've been shown in the past 23 years, it takes more energy and creativity to live in the same town, doing the same job, and interacting with the same people than doing something exciting for a short amount of time. i wonder sometimes if it's the fear of the indefinite. going to london for a semester was, in many ways, terrifying. but when i flew out of dulles airport it was only for 3 months. my fear had an end-date.
now, waking up every day, i don't necessarily have a near ending to look forward to..."pour all of your time and energy out until this day, this week, this month, and then you can be done." well, i suppose i could keep moving from place to place, job to job, and never really settling. but that's not exactly encouraged...

when i moved north, out of york, part of the fear i thought i was leaving behind was that fear of monotony. now i've discovered it's followed me here, only with different people, a different job, and in a different location. and it's time to face it.

just another wrinkle in time

i think i'm going to like being 23, for a few reasons.
1. i have this thing about odd numbers. i like them. even numbers are just too perfect, too paired, too exact. (the ironic thing is some of the most significant biblical numbers - 3, 7, ok so only two - are odd).
3. my birthday is on an odd day
5. 21 is too overrated as an age. it's cliche.
7. 25...ok, i've heard that 40 is the new 30, but i'm pretty sure 25 is the new 30. yikes!

so yes, i like being 23. granted, i don't look it. the waitress at Governour's thought i was 17. the girl on the playground said i was 17 too. a little boy in the nursery the other night decided i was 6.

my mom tells me i'll appreciate all that when i'm older...

on reason and passion...

ever since i've graduated college, and especially since i left home in february, my life has felt like it's become a plateau. i no longer have daily intellectual conversations, or listen to professors and lectures. even when i left houghton and moved back to york, i was still surrounded by a community of college-aged students and i could immerse myself in meaningful discussions on topics like poverty, sexuality, different aspects of christianity, and even christian authors. but over the past few weeks i've felt unchallenged and, possibly as a result, my soul has grown stagnant. maybe it's because i'm in a new place and i don't yet feel comfortable challenging ideas...it could just be that most days i work with a 3 year old and the deepest discussions i have revolve around colors and animal sounds. for whatever reason, i'm left feeling lacking...

someone showed me a passage out of a book today that i'd like to finish reading. it's from the prophet by kahlil gibran. from chapter 15, on reason and passion:

And he answered saying:

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion; that it may sing; And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes...

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason." And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion."

And since you are a breath in God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

much of what i've been discovering and learning to appreciate about christianity are the paradoxes. things like judgement and mercy, the law and grace, Jesus himself - fully God and fully man...and reason and passion. "your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul."

i think i've lost my passion.

spiderman got stuck in a tree

i'm pretty sure i have the best job ever. most days it starts at noon and the past two days i've gotten paid for blowing bubbles, flying a kite, and going to the gym. good eh?

hairspray, hillsong, and handcuffs

until tonight, i'd only ever seen someone cuffed and escorted into a cop car on shows like law & order. but just moments earlier some unfortunately intoxicated individual was pulled over in the neighbor's driveway and provided 15 minutes of live entertainment.

pipd (presque isle police department) was out in full force tonight; it took all three of their squad cars to administer the walk-the-line-say-the-alphabet-backwards-touch-your-nose test to the man in the pick-up truck. the perry's and i observed the entire process all the way to the arrest...the entire encounter was not quite as dramatic as expected, but still more exciting then this year's trash and treasure sale.

oh yeah, and it's snowing.

Changes

so for all the talking i've done about starting a blog, i finally went ahead and did it.

and just in case you were wondering, rabbit ears on a tv are very vintage looking. especially if there's tin foil involved.

p.s. georgia is probably one of my favorite fonts. and states.