While so much of who I am resists change and clings instead to constancy and security, my recent travels have broadened my horizons in an inspiring and beautiful way. Eight days of constant movement, living out of backpacks and in sleeping bags, braving insanely cold temperatures, eating an obscene amount of baguettes, doing a lot semi-structured wandering that led us to breathtakingly beautiful discoveries, having good conversations with good friends....I haven't felt this alive in a long time.
There have been moments lately.....when it occurs to me that God created humans to sometimes just be and just enjoy what He gave us senses for. We sat on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower on our last night in Paris, the end of our travels. And as I watched the sparkling lights go off on the tower for the first ten minutes at midnight, I thought about how completely satisfied I was in that moment....just to be and to be there. And again in Sitges, as we sat out on the rocky jetty as the sun made its final bow, I was taken aback by the sheer beauty of it all and the fact that my God made it just to be that way, just because.
I have good friends. I realized while traveling that I am BLESSED. Lauren. Ben. Neo. We travel together like we've been doing it forever. I haven't laughed this much or had so many good conversations in a long time....not to mention the nights of watching The Office and our classy jazz club Christmas. I loooooovvveee my friends.
Here is a rather short travel summary:
Rome is grand. The Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Vatican city, the Sistine Chapel....they come out of nowhere, pretentiously boasting a wealth of tangible history. The Trevi Fountain is beautiful, especially at night. The food is DELICIOUS. And I just love the accent.
Venice is exquisite and mysterious. Seeing the Grand Canal at dusk took my breath away. The beauty is in the details, the forgotten streets and smaller canals, the ancient churches, the rustic colors. This city was made for wandering.
Paris is glamorous. The Champs Elysées, the Louvre, the Moulin Rouge, Arc de Triumph, the Eiffel Tower....it never stops. The castle at Versailles is so much more incredible than I imagined it, especially the garden. CREPES. Paris is the world's jewel.
And now I am back in my beautiful Barcelona, which I missed a little more than I thought I would.
December 28, 2007
November 25, 2007
Here are things I miss - in a stream of consciousness sort of way:
Watching Gilmore Girls with Mom, the way I can settle next to her on the couch and how I fit perfectly against her, and how it feels like time can never take that away, like perhaps she’ll always be able to make me feel like her baby. And I guess, how simple everything was at that time in my life. I miss all the regular things that I could prop my life up against for guidance and a sense of structure - the trivial things that I used to think were just filler but have turned out to be surpisingly fundamental. I miss those.
They say San Diego doesn’t have seasons, but really it does, in a beautiful, subtler way. And I feel myself missing the way Summer indiscreetly makes it’s exit while Fall slips secretly in, back at home, how the light changes and the air has a go at being crisp but actually just loses it’s summer thickness and feels fresh and slightly thinner. Maybe places with four distinct seasons are nicer or more exciting, but to me it feels unnecessarily harsh. San Diego has an artfully smooth way of changing seasons, like the atmosphere is running on some implicit poetic meter. I love the way the ocean is beautiful and welcoming no matter the time of year, how the beaches have a constancy that makes them addicting in a life-giving sense. I am honestly convinced that San Diego holds the copyright on casual and unforced classiness.
And maybe more than anything, I miss the in-between moments of home. I love the quality of light in the late afternoon – how it brings all the colors to fruition – and when Dad gets home from work we sometimes get out the camera and take pictures outside of the hummingbirds or the sunset. And the way cups of coffee bring us all together – in the kitchen or the patio outside, sometimes we rehash our days but sometimes we just soak up the stillness of the afternoon or midmorning together. I miss the way that a house can harbor memories and perhaps parts of me, too, in the most unusual places. Even while my flat is finally becoming home, it’s not the same way that home is home. Here my lamp and my desk and closet are just that. But at home, my closet is the one that has awful neon colored drawers that I love only because Dad expressly painted them so, thinking I’d like them. And my room has traces of all my friends, knickknacks or notes they left that are irritatingly scattered about my desk. And how the laundry room is a whole world of hidden treasures, and sometimes I stumble upon an old box that takes me back and there goes my whole day.
Watching Gilmore Girls with Mom, the way I can settle next to her on the couch and how I fit perfectly against her, and how it feels like time can never take that away, like perhaps she’ll always be able to make me feel like her baby. And I guess, how simple everything was at that time in my life. I miss all the regular things that I could prop my life up against for guidance and a sense of structure - the trivial things that I used to think were just filler but have turned out to be surpisingly fundamental. I miss those.
They say San Diego doesn’t have seasons, but really it does, in a beautiful, subtler way. And I feel myself missing the way Summer indiscreetly makes it’s exit while Fall slips secretly in, back at home, how the light changes and the air has a go at being crisp but actually just loses it’s summer thickness and feels fresh and slightly thinner. Maybe places with four distinct seasons are nicer or more exciting, but to me it feels unnecessarily harsh. San Diego has an artfully smooth way of changing seasons, like the atmosphere is running on some implicit poetic meter. I love the way the ocean is beautiful and welcoming no matter the time of year, how the beaches have a constancy that makes them addicting in a life-giving sense. I am honestly convinced that San Diego holds the copyright on casual and unforced classiness.
And maybe more than anything, I miss the in-between moments of home. I love the quality of light in the late afternoon – how it brings all the colors to fruition – and when Dad gets home from work we sometimes get out the camera and take pictures outside of the hummingbirds or the sunset. And the way cups of coffee bring us all together – in the kitchen or the patio outside, sometimes we rehash our days but sometimes we just soak up the stillness of the afternoon or midmorning together. I miss the way that a house can harbor memories and perhaps parts of me, too, in the most unusual places. Even while my flat is finally becoming home, it’s not the same way that home is home. Here my lamp and my desk and closet are just that. But at home, my closet is the one that has awful neon colored drawers that I love only because Dad expressly painted them so, thinking I’d like them. And my room has traces of all my friends, knickknacks or notes they left that are irritatingly scattered about my desk. And how the laundry room is a whole world of hidden treasures, and sometimes I stumble upon an old box that takes me back and there goes my whole day.
November 19, 2007
I've just finished reading Tender is the Night and I feel as though it deserves some recognition....and finding my own words insufficient, I've posted some descriptions by other readers. If nothing else, this work is provokingly beautiful because of the painful truth embedded in it. I believe literature based on the sadder truths is slightly less enjoyable to read but all the more magnificent.
"Gatsby was a tour de force, but this is a confession of faith." - F. Scott Fitzgerald, on his book, Tender is the Night.
¨Tender is the Night flows like a tone poem, vividly capturing the illusions and sickened foundations of its flawed protagonists, and the escapist existence in which they dwell. Herein lay ghosts, drifting through splendor, oblivious until it is too late, and then insensate still, crippled by self-imposed restrictions: the patterns of denial, dissipation and dream-death.¨
¨To define the myriad qualities of Tender is the Night into simplistic buzz-word recommendation: this is a haunting, occasionally stunning work, with beautifully lyrical prose and well-defined conflict, interspersed with casual insights into the urges/constructs of human reality.¨
¨F. Scott Fitzgerald, and by extension his work, was/is inescapably tied with the exuberant facade of the Jazz Era, an era defined (at least in the socialite sense) by its splendor and waste, its heedless optimism blind of cost. And though Scott basked in the cradle of this opulent "season," the author seething beneath the fly-by-night exterior could not help but be keenly aware of its follies and hypocrisies: his novels and short stories savagely depict the inward condemnation he felt. But unlike earlier efforts, this, Scott's last completed novel, was composed between 1925 and 1934, and the disintegration of the roaring 20's into the dust-bowl Depression of the 30's seems to me clearly represented in the progression from Tender is the Night's first to third books - the illusion has crashed and there is no regaining it, despite the determined dissipative efforts contrary.¨
And here are some quotes from the novel:
"You told me that night you'd teach me to play. Well, I think love is all there is or should be. Anyhow..."
"In the dead white hours of Zurich staring into a stranger's pantry across the upshine of a street-lamp, he used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in."
"Later she remembered all the hours of the afternoon as happy - one of those uneventful times that seem at the moment only a link between past and future pleasure, but turn out to have been the pleasure itself."
"You know, you're a little complicated after all." "Oh no," she assured him hastily, "No, I'm not really--I'm just a--I'm just a whole lot of different simple people."
"All my beautiful lovely safe world blew itself up here with a great gust of high explosive love," Dicked mourned persistently. "Isn''t that true, Rosemary?"
"Gatsby was a tour de force, but this is a confession of faith." - F. Scott Fitzgerald, on his book, Tender is the Night.
¨Tender is the Night flows like a tone poem, vividly capturing the illusions and sickened foundations of its flawed protagonists, and the escapist existence in which they dwell. Herein lay ghosts, drifting through splendor, oblivious until it is too late, and then insensate still, crippled by self-imposed restrictions: the patterns of denial, dissipation and dream-death.¨
¨To define the myriad qualities of Tender is the Night into simplistic buzz-word recommendation: this is a haunting, occasionally stunning work, with beautifully lyrical prose and well-defined conflict, interspersed with casual insights into the urges/constructs of human reality.¨
¨F. Scott Fitzgerald, and by extension his work, was/is inescapably tied with the exuberant facade of the Jazz Era, an era defined (at least in the socialite sense) by its splendor and waste, its heedless optimism blind of cost. And though Scott basked in the cradle of this opulent "season," the author seething beneath the fly-by-night exterior could not help but be keenly aware of its follies and hypocrisies: his novels and short stories savagely depict the inward condemnation he felt. But unlike earlier efforts, this, Scott's last completed novel, was composed between 1925 and 1934, and the disintegration of the roaring 20's into the dust-bowl Depression of the 30's seems to me clearly represented in the progression from Tender is the Night's first to third books - the illusion has crashed and there is no regaining it, despite the determined dissipative efforts contrary.¨
And here are some quotes from the novel:
"You told me that night you'd teach me to play. Well, I think love is all there is or should be. Anyhow..."
"In the dead white hours of Zurich staring into a stranger's pantry across the upshine of a street-lamp, he used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in."
"Later she remembered all the hours of the afternoon as happy - one of those uneventful times that seem at the moment only a link between past and future pleasure, but turn out to have been the pleasure itself."
"You know, you're a little complicated after all." "Oh no," she assured him hastily, "No, I'm not really--I'm just a--I'm just a whole lot of different simple people."
"All my beautiful lovely safe world blew itself up here with a great gust of high explosive love," Dicked mourned persistently. "Isn''t that true, Rosemary?"
"Do you know what time it is?" Rosemary asked.
"It's about half-past one."
They faced the seascape together momentarily.
"It's not a bad time," said Dick Diver. " It's not one of the worst times of the day."
November 13, 2007
Here is what calms my soul on days when I feel like Spain has knocked the wind out of me:
(today happens to be one of those days)
1. Hand-written letters from Grandma.
2. Amos Lee
3. 45 céntimos coffees from the machines around campus
4. Literature - currently: Fitzgerald´s Tender Is The Night
5. And most of all - sweet words from my Savior.
¨Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.¨ -Philippians 4:6-7
¨Sometimes we forget who we got,
Who they are.
Oh, who they are not.
There is so much more in love,
Than black and white.
Keep it loose child,
Gotta keep it tight.
Keep it loose child,
Keep it tight¨
- Amos Lee
¨....for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.¨-Philippians 4:11-13
(today happens to be one of those days)
1. Hand-written letters from Grandma.
2. Amos Lee
3. 45 céntimos coffees from the machines around campus
4. Literature - currently: Fitzgerald´s Tender Is The Night
5. And most of all - sweet words from my Savior.
¨Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.¨ -Philippians 4:6-7
¨Sometimes we forget who we got,
Who they are.
Oh, who they are not.
There is so much more in love,
Than black and white.
Keep it loose child,
Gotta keep it tight.
Keep it loose child,
Keep it tight¨
- Amos Lee
¨....for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.¨-Philippians 4:11-13
October 28, 2007
These are two of the best poems I know. The second one is a bit longer but oh so worth it.
i carry your heart with me
By: E.E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock By: T.S. Eliot
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair --
(They will say: 'How his hair is growing thin!")
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin --
(They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!")
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all--
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
* * * *
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet -- and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all" --
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: "That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all."
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor --
And this, and so much more?--
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all."
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
i carry your heart with me
By: E.E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock By: T.S. Eliot
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair --
(They will say: 'How his hair is growing thin!")
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin --
(They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!")
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all--
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
* * * *
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet -- and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all" --
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: "That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all."
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor --
And this, and so much more?--
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all."
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
October 22, 2007
"It occurs to me it is not so much the aim of the devil to lure me with evil as it is to preocupy me with the meaningless." - Donald Miller
And so goes the story of my life as of late. Every so often I have these moments of awakening, and I am reminded, again, just how much is going on around me. It is sickening how easily I ignore the flagrant, world-wide social injustice that is suffocating so many of the people whom God absolutely loves. How can I claim to follow/know/love Jesus but not care about the ideals and people He gave His life for? I will not be satisfied living a life centered around me. Even though awareness is, more often than not, heartbreaking, it brings me so much closer the heart of my Savior and compels me not to settle for meaningless.
Here is something I like : "The place where God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet." - Frederick Buechner
I am starting to entertain the idea that the negatives effects of capitalism may at times outweigh the positive ones. And when I say at times, I mean at THIS time, this current moment in history. Every time that I watch Motorcycle Diaries, it makes me seriously question why I believe the things I believe.
"Justice too long delayed is justice denied."
God is green. While still completely an amateur, I am - wierdly - excited about beginning to lead a life that takes into consideration the environment and taking care of what God has entrusted us with. It has come to my attention that I am an extremely consumptive person and there are a MILLION ways to use less and be more considerate of the generation that is coming after us....Mars Hill Church has some great podcasts on this topic that've given me so much to think about...pruébalos.
And so goes the story of my life as of late. Every so often I have these moments of awakening, and I am reminded, again, just how much is going on around me. It is sickening how easily I ignore the flagrant, world-wide social injustice that is suffocating so many of the people whom God absolutely loves. How can I claim to follow/know/love Jesus but not care about the ideals and people He gave His life for? I will not be satisfied living a life centered around me. Even though awareness is, more often than not, heartbreaking, it brings me so much closer the heart of my Savior and compels me not to settle for meaningless.
Here is something I like : "The place where God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet." - Frederick Buechner
I am starting to entertain the idea that the negatives effects of capitalism may at times outweigh the positive ones. And when I say at times, I mean at THIS time, this current moment in history. Every time that I watch Motorcycle Diaries, it makes me seriously question why I believe the things I believe.
"Justice too long delayed is justice denied."
God is green. While still completely an amateur, I am - wierdly - excited about beginning to lead a life that takes into consideration the environment and taking care of what God has entrusted us with. It has come to my attention that I am an extremely consumptive person and there are a MILLION ways to use less and be more considerate of the generation that is coming after us....Mars Hill Church has some great podcasts on this topic that've given me so much to think about...pruébalos.
October 8, 2007
The thunder and lightening and ridiculous rain outside make this a perfect time for these thoughts...
1. I always thought college - the educational part - would be this exciting time where a new world of knowledge would be revealed to me and I would be constantly inspired and eager to learn. Unfortunately, it's so far from what I imagined. I spend a lot of time wondering what I'm doing in this standardized institution that fits so neatly into my formulaic life. Since coming to Spain, I've only just begun to believe again that education can be something that I am excited about. I'm taking a class on the history of cinema and, though it counts for nothing on my transcript, it's the only class that I genuinely enjoy. I think Spain is some kind of escape from the educationally monotonous UCSD.
2. I'm beginning to feel like everything is some shade of gray. Every year older I get, I lose one more layer of simplicity.
3. "I'm sorry" are the sweetest words I know. I don't say them enough, and they never get old.
4. Old school worship songs are like a breath of fresh air.
5. I'm losing sight of the end again.
"Hear me, my people, and I will warn you - if only you would listen to me, Israel!
You shall have no foreign god among you; you shall not worship any god other than me.
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt.
OPEN WIDE YOUR MOUTH AND I WILL FILL IT." - Psalm 81:8-10
I am so ready to LISTEN - to get rid of ALL the foreign gods that I love to worship and give my attention to. How many times do I have to experience the mediocre quality of everything outside of Him? I've heard that sometimes when you don't like a quality in someone else, it's because you subconsciously identify it in yourself. Reading through the Old Testament makes me just despise the Israelites, but a look at my life shouts that I AM THE ISRAELITES. The thing I love though, is that God offers a love that doesn't depend on my worthiness. I am covered in that LOVE. So, here is to endless chances start afresh and to a Savior who has arms wide open.
1. I always thought college - the educational part - would be this exciting time where a new world of knowledge would be revealed to me and I would be constantly inspired and eager to learn. Unfortunately, it's so far from what I imagined. I spend a lot of time wondering what I'm doing in this standardized institution that fits so neatly into my formulaic life. Since coming to Spain, I've only just begun to believe again that education can be something that I am excited about. I'm taking a class on the history of cinema and, though it counts for nothing on my transcript, it's the only class that I genuinely enjoy. I think Spain is some kind of escape from the educationally monotonous UCSD.
2. I'm beginning to feel like everything is some shade of gray. Every year older I get, I lose one more layer of simplicity.
3. "I'm sorry" are the sweetest words I know. I don't say them enough, and they never get old.
4. Old school worship songs are like a breath of fresh air.
5. I'm losing sight of the end again.
"Hear me, my people, and I will warn you - if only you would listen to me, Israel!
You shall have no foreign god among you; you shall not worship any god other than me.
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt.
OPEN WIDE YOUR MOUTH AND I WILL FILL IT." - Psalm 81:8-10
I am so ready to LISTEN - to get rid of ALL the foreign gods that I love to worship and give my attention to. How many times do I have to experience the mediocre quality of everything outside of Him? I've heard that sometimes when you don't like a quality in someone else, it's because you subconsciously identify it in yourself. Reading through the Old Testament makes me just despise the Israelites, but a look at my life shouts that I AM THE ISRAELITES. The thing I love though, is that God offers a love that doesn't depend on my worthiness. I am covered in that LOVE. So, here is to endless chances start afresh and to a Savior who has arms wide open.
September 18, 2007
APART FROM YOU I HAVE NO GOOD THING
When I actually think about it, I am living the dream.
I live in a rather spacious, second story apartment in a bustling but small neighborhood in Barcelona, Spain. I am one of six; Lauren Leticia, my soul sister and completely opposite but very close friend, and I share this abode with four boys - a German, a Dutch, and two Spaniards - who I am thinking will turn out to be surrogate older brothers and very good friends of ours. Because it's required, we do attend a university here a few days a week; the rest of the time is consumed by wine and movie nights, journaling, drinking endless cups of coffee and planning our upcoming travels. Here is what the future holds: come December, we have FIRST: two of our best guyfriends coming to stay and adventure with us for two whole weeks and SECOND: the third leg of our tripod who stayed behind in California, one of our closest girlfriends, coming right after the boys to adventure some more with us and bring in 2008 the right way.
I can't seem to figure out why I get to have this life. I don't deserve this.
And, on a deeper level, I am also experiencing what every follower of Jesus needs to experience - identity crisis, finding out whether my relationship with Jesus is a facet of my identity or whether it is, in fact, the whole of my identity; that is, what it means to know my God and call myself a Christian outside of the United States of America and away from all the people and places and activities that I thought were so essential to being me. I am indeed finding out how much I do not know about myself and how much I have not tapped into when it comes to the storehouses of God's love and insanely good plans for me.
Psalm 16:5-6
"Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup; You have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance."
I love these words and the truth behind them. God has been good to me - giving me all the things I didn't ask for and didn't know I needed. Surely I do have a delightful inheritance.
David writes at the end of this psalm, "You make known to me the path of life." I do believe God is opening my eyes to LIFE - what it means to be alive and thriving the way we were created to be. Believe it or not, America does not hold the copyright on the good life. I have rarely been more alive/uncomfortable/stretched/hopeful than I have been here.
Lastly, here is something I keep thinking about, pertaining to life and such ( and I am aware that is it still unfinished and a bit scrambled ) :
I think everyone has something that makes them feel alive - some activity or state of being that they thrive on. And in this sense, society is quite biased and misleading, because it doesn't present everyone's talent; rather, only those who thrive on being beautiful and socializing and attracting attention get to show off what they are good at, being that those are the things that our present society glorifies. But I think there is rarely something so fulfulling to me as seeing someone completely in their element, doing or being the thing that makes them feel most alive, the thing they are best at; while ninety percent of the time, one may feel awkward or mediocre, that ten percent of time in which one feels absolutely confident and whole is, and I mean this literally, a taste of Heaven.
Personally, I think God loves to see His creation prospering, flourishing, living vigorously. I think when we live halfheartedly, it is a little disappointing for our Creator. But times when I feel like all the random qualities God gave me are in this one moment useful, those are the beautiful moments, the moments that make sense of our uniqueness.
I think I am tired of halfheartedly playing the social game and trying to have a go at what I wasn't cut out for. While it may mean a bit more quirkiness on my part, I am ready to embrace that fact that I do not (and do not have to) thrive on being a social butterfly and being generally well put together, sino que yo prospero en conversaciones buenas, outrageous games of ultimate spoons, midnight worship sessions, classic literature, a hard run and a good cup of coffee. That is all I have for now.
I live in a rather spacious, second story apartment in a bustling but small neighborhood in Barcelona, Spain. I am one of six; Lauren Leticia, my soul sister and completely opposite but very close friend, and I share this abode with four boys - a German, a Dutch, and two Spaniards - who I am thinking will turn out to be surrogate older brothers and very good friends of ours. Because it's required, we do attend a university here a few days a week; the rest of the time is consumed by wine and movie nights, journaling, drinking endless cups of coffee and planning our upcoming travels. Here is what the future holds: come December, we have FIRST: two of our best guyfriends coming to stay and adventure with us for two whole weeks and SECOND: the third leg of our tripod who stayed behind in California, one of our closest girlfriends, coming right after the boys to adventure some more with us and bring in 2008 the right way.
I can't seem to figure out why I get to have this life. I don't deserve this.
And, on a deeper level, I am also experiencing what every follower of Jesus needs to experience - identity crisis, finding out whether my relationship with Jesus is a facet of my identity or whether it is, in fact, the whole of my identity; that is, what it means to know my God and call myself a Christian outside of the United States of America and away from all the people and places and activities that I thought were so essential to being me. I am indeed finding out how much I do not know about myself and how much I have not tapped into when it comes to the storehouses of God's love and insanely good plans for me.
Psalm 16:5-6
"Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup; You have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance."
I love these words and the truth behind them. God has been good to me - giving me all the things I didn't ask for and didn't know I needed. Surely I do have a delightful inheritance.
David writes at the end of this psalm, "You make known to me the path of life." I do believe God is opening my eyes to LIFE - what it means to be alive and thriving the way we were created to be. Believe it or not, America does not hold the copyright on the good life. I have rarely been more alive/uncomfortable/stretched/hopeful than I have been here.
Lastly, here is something I keep thinking about, pertaining to life and such ( and I am aware that is it still unfinished and a bit scrambled ) :
I think everyone has something that makes them feel alive - some activity or state of being that they thrive on. And in this sense, society is quite biased and misleading, because it doesn't present everyone's talent; rather, only those who thrive on being beautiful and socializing and attracting attention get to show off what they are good at, being that those are the things that our present society glorifies. But I think there is rarely something so fulfulling to me as seeing someone completely in their element, doing or being the thing that makes them feel most alive, the thing they are best at; while ninety percent of the time, one may feel awkward or mediocre, that ten percent of time in which one feels absolutely confident and whole is, and I mean this literally, a taste of Heaven.
Personally, I think God loves to see His creation prospering, flourishing, living vigorously. I think when we live halfheartedly, it is a little disappointing for our Creator. But times when I feel like all the random qualities God gave me are in this one moment useful, those are the beautiful moments, the moments that make sense of our uniqueness.
I think I am tired of halfheartedly playing the social game and trying to have a go at what I wasn't cut out for. While it may mean a bit more quirkiness on my part, I am ready to embrace that fact that I do not (and do not have to) thrive on being a social butterfly and being generally well put together, sino que yo prospero en conversaciones buenas, outrageous games of ultimate spoons, midnight worship sessions, classic literature, a hard run and a good cup of coffee. That is all I have for now.
August 3, 2007
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places
“…. If the gospel of Jesus is just some formula I obey in order to get taken off the naughty list and put on some nice list, then it doesn’t meet the deep need of the human condition, it doesn’t interact with the great desire of my soul, and it has nothing to do with the hidden (or rather obvious) language we all are speaking. But if it is more, if it is a story about humanity falling away from the community that named it, and an attempt to bring humanity back to that community, and if it is more than a series of ideas, but rather speaks directly into this basic human need we are feeling, then the gospel of Jesus is the most relevant message in the history of mankind …. Now that I no longer see it [the Bible] as a self-help book, it has infinitely more merit. It has a soul, I guess you could say.” – Donald Miller, Searching For God Knows What
I love this quote. Actually I love the whole book – read it if you can. Donald Miller has good ideas, not all fully formed, but that’s what is beautiful; it is more of a conversation with him than a lecture by him.
I love this quote because it expresses a feeling that has been growing in my soul lately. I am starting, for maybe the first time ever, to really read the Bible. I probably could let loose a flood of Bible facts, but I’m starting to realize how insignificant those facts are if I’m missing all that is going on underneath. So instead of reading it as a textbook or a manual, I’ve begun to read the Bible like a novel. And when I read Dostoyevsky or Steinbeck, I usually end up feeling like I’m getting to know the author personally through the characters and the language and the style. In the same way, I have been getting to know my God in a new way through Moses and David and the young church in Acts. And, even more, I’ve begun to see how identical I am to each of these characters, which makes them all the more real to me. Essentially, I guess, I’ve started to read the Bible less with my mind and more with my heart, and it is startling and wonderful to have my eyes opened to all that I’ve been missing…..
I especially love reading Psalms, because to me it feels like I’m reading David’s personal journal. It’s all in there – all his suffering and hurt, all his overwhelming joy and praise, all his mistakes and all his triumphs. And recorded in between all these lines is proof of God’s faithfulness and love for a man who turns out to be just like any else, not perfect but so desperately in love with his God.
Two more things:
Being in Spain has transformed my relationship with my Jesus. There is no Intervarsity or Calvary Chapel here to spoon-feed me, and so my personal devotions have become all the more essential and, consequently, all the more fulfilling. God is so good to me.
And lastly, here is one last quote from Donald Miller that I want so desperately to live out: “…And I believe now and will always believe that if we are willing to love people, God will pour out His resources to bless our lives and our efforts.”
I need to relearn LOVE.
I love this quote. Actually I love the whole book – read it if you can. Donald Miller has good ideas, not all fully formed, but that’s what is beautiful; it is more of a conversation with him than a lecture by him.
I love this quote because it expresses a feeling that has been growing in my soul lately. I am starting, for maybe the first time ever, to really read the Bible. I probably could let loose a flood of Bible facts, but I’m starting to realize how insignificant those facts are if I’m missing all that is going on underneath. So instead of reading it as a textbook or a manual, I’ve begun to read the Bible like a novel. And when I read Dostoyevsky or Steinbeck, I usually end up feeling like I’m getting to know the author personally through the characters and the language and the style. In the same way, I have been getting to know my God in a new way through Moses and David and the young church in Acts. And, even more, I’ve begun to see how identical I am to each of these characters, which makes them all the more real to me. Essentially, I guess, I’ve started to read the Bible less with my mind and more with my heart, and it is startling and wonderful to have my eyes opened to all that I’ve been missing…..
I especially love reading Psalms, because to me it feels like I’m reading David’s personal journal. It’s all in there – all his suffering and hurt, all his overwhelming joy and praise, all his mistakes and all his triumphs. And recorded in between all these lines is proof of God’s faithfulness and love for a man who turns out to be just like any else, not perfect but so desperately in love with his God.
Two more things:
Being in Spain has transformed my relationship with my Jesus. There is no Intervarsity or Calvary Chapel here to spoon-feed me, and so my personal devotions have become all the more essential and, consequently, all the more fulfilling. God is so good to me.
And lastly, here is one last quote from Donald Miller that I want so desperately to live out: “…And I believe now and will always believe that if we are willing to love people, God will pour out His resources to bless our lives and our efforts.”
I need to relearn LOVE.
July 25, 2007
Heart songs are all that I have
Because clarity comes to me in the form of lists.....here is a list of my most penetrating thoughts as of late:
1. It almost hurts to hear the sound of my parents voices on the phone. How painfully ironic that I can talk to them but not be with them. It's as if the nearness of their voices just reinforces the fact that they are on the other side of the globe. There are moments when, despite being in SPAIN, I just want to be in my house drinking coffee in the kitchen with my parents.
2. Psalm 139. Every time I happen upon this one while reading through the Psalms, I feel like a whole new facet of God's love for me has been unexpectedly revealed. At a time when I feel somewhat alone and vulnerable, Psalm 139 is Abba wrapping me up in His arms, something so completely irreplaceable.
3. Spain is intriguing. Being here has redefined so much for me. Because I cannot list everything, here are some things that I LOVE ( oftentimes, ironically ) about being here:
-Time is valued differently. The city sleeps from two to five every day (siesta). Good conversation takes precedence to most other tasks. There are very few 24-hour shops or drive-thru's. Spain is not the corporate machine that America is, regardless of what that means. Life moves at a slower, more graceful pace.
-Coffee - the simplicity of the coffee culture here is delightful. You can order un café con leche or simply un café, and it comes strong (always espresso). Some of the best days I've had here in Cádiz have been spent at a cafe, situated in the middle of some beautiful plaza, journaling and reading. I don't know if I can ever go back to Starbucks....
-Being a foreigner is humbling. Though I would say I can speak Spanish intermediately, there is so much I feel on the outside of here. And in a wierd way it is very refreshing, and it allows me to appreciate the culture from a point of view almost opposite to what I am accustomed to.
4. Lastly, here is what I miss: the closeness you only have with a sister (Annie). Salad dressing. My house and the familiarity of it. FRIENDS - the ones who define so much of who I am. and, TACO BELL. don't judge me.
1. It almost hurts to hear the sound of my parents voices on the phone. How painfully ironic that I can talk to them but not be with them. It's as if the nearness of their voices just reinforces the fact that they are on the other side of the globe. There are moments when, despite being in SPAIN, I just want to be in my house drinking coffee in the kitchen with my parents.
2. Psalm 139. Every time I happen upon this one while reading through the Psalms, I feel like a whole new facet of God's love for me has been unexpectedly revealed. At a time when I feel somewhat alone and vulnerable, Psalm 139 is Abba wrapping me up in His arms, something so completely irreplaceable.
3. Spain is intriguing. Being here has redefined so much for me. Because I cannot list everything, here are some things that I LOVE ( oftentimes, ironically ) about being here:
-Time is valued differently. The city sleeps from two to five every day (siesta). Good conversation takes precedence to most other tasks. There are very few 24-hour shops or drive-thru's. Spain is not the corporate machine that America is, regardless of what that means. Life moves at a slower, more graceful pace.
-Coffee - the simplicity of the coffee culture here is delightful. You can order un café con leche or simply un café, and it comes strong (always espresso). Some of the best days I've had here in Cádiz have been spent at a cafe, situated in the middle of some beautiful plaza, journaling and reading. I don't know if I can ever go back to Starbucks....
-Being a foreigner is humbling. Though I would say I can speak Spanish intermediately, there is so much I feel on the outside of here. And in a wierd way it is very refreshing, and it allows me to appreciate the culture from a point of view almost opposite to what I am accustomed to.
4. Lastly, here is what I miss: the closeness you only have with a sister (Annie). Salad dressing. My house and the familiarity of it. FRIENDS - the ones who define so much of who I am. and, TACO BELL. don't judge me.
July 4, 2007
Somewhere else there must be more of it
These are the things I know:
1. I am loved by YAHWEH.
And even though I want to list more things, I have nothing else. I don't know WHY or HOW He loves me, I don't know why I can't seem to understand or reciprocate this love, I don't know. Sometimes lists help me......keep my head above the water. And in an attempt to list all the things that are CERTAIN, things I can count on, this was the only thing that I could write. I'm not certain about me, about who I am or why I make certain choices. I am not certain about emotions or friends or relationships.....BUT I am certain that I am covered in Love. Love that has nothing to do with me deserving it or earning it, Love that comes without expectations, Love that never runs out.......and never fails. That is all I know for sure.
I want a break from being me, tonight. Not because I hate my life, I definitely do not. Not because there is anything legitimately hard or stressful about my life, either.... but just because I'm tired of being Sierra. I'm tired of struggling with the same sins over and over again. I'm tired of having the same shortcomings. I'm tired of feeling like I've let down my Savior ONCE AGAIN. I'm dying for some perspective, some fresh air. Hopefully I'll find some clarity in Spain.....
AND, what will it take to get over this? "A clean break is easier. You can reset it and it heals and then you move on. But if you leave things messy or things don't get put right then it just hurts forever." I don't want to hurt forever.
1. I am loved by YAHWEH.
And even though I want to list more things, I have nothing else. I don't know WHY or HOW He loves me, I don't know why I can't seem to understand or reciprocate this love, I don't know. Sometimes lists help me......keep my head above the water. And in an attempt to list all the things that are CERTAIN, things I can count on, this was the only thing that I could write. I'm not certain about me, about who I am or why I make certain choices. I am not certain about emotions or friends or relationships.....BUT I am certain that I am covered in Love. Love that has nothing to do with me deserving it or earning it, Love that comes without expectations, Love that never runs out.......and never fails. That is all I know for sure.
I want a break from being me, tonight. Not because I hate my life, I definitely do not. Not because there is anything legitimately hard or stressful about my life, either.... but just because I'm tired of being Sierra. I'm tired of struggling with the same sins over and over again. I'm tired of having the same shortcomings. I'm tired of feeling like I've let down my Savior ONCE AGAIN. I'm dying for some perspective, some fresh air. Hopefully I'll find some clarity in Spain.....
AND, what will it take to get over this? "A clean break is easier. You can reset it and it heals and then you move on. But if you leave things messy or things don't get put right then it just hurts forever." I don't want to hurt forever.
June 18, 2007
I hate these white walls. I've taken down all the color from my walls, taken down all the memories that had made their way onto my walls this year. And this room is unrecognizeable to me now; I used to feel like this room was more home to me than my actual home, but now, whatever it had, it lost. Which proves, I guess, that home is where the heart is. And my heart is no longer in this plain, white room.
I hate leaving. And I hate more how much of an avoider I am. I avoid any feelings of sadness by just packing up, just checking out early, emotionally. I heard once that emotions are like a spectrum that, when it expands, expands in both directions. So the more joy one can experience only means that one can experience that much more pain. And, for all the joy God's given me this year, allllllll the good times, the good friends, tonight it all means that I have that much more to miss and feel the absence of. And right now it doesn't matter that SPAIN is in my very near future, it doesn't matter that my future has never looked more promising. Tonight, I'm thinking that my present situation is one I very much want to cling to and never let slip away. So instead of saying the typical goodbyes, I think I'll end up leaving Friday, instead of Saterday and maybe not telling anyone. Because goodbyes, the offical goodbye, means that something is ending. And I hate that.
This year has been amazing. Nothing I expected or could have predicted. I came into my own. And God opened my eyes to everything outside myself. I won't ruin it with words. THANK YOU JESUS.
I hate leaving. And I hate more how much of an avoider I am. I avoid any feelings of sadness by just packing up, just checking out early, emotionally. I heard once that emotions are like a spectrum that, when it expands, expands in both directions. So the more joy one can experience only means that one can experience that much more pain. And, for all the joy God's given me this year, allllllll the good times, the good friends, tonight it all means that I have that much more to miss and feel the absence of. And right now it doesn't matter that SPAIN is in my very near future, it doesn't matter that my future has never looked more promising. Tonight, I'm thinking that my present situation is one I very much want to cling to and never let slip away. So instead of saying the typical goodbyes, I think I'll end up leaving Friday, instead of Saterday and maybe not telling anyone. Because goodbyes, the offical goodbye, means that something is ending. And I hate that.
This year has been amazing. Nothing I expected or could have predicted. I came into my own. And God opened my eyes to everything outside myself. I won't ruin it with words. THANK YOU JESUS.
April 13, 2007
Two things:
Life is a constant balancing act, I have come to realize. And there are so many different factors that need balancing. Just now, I am wondering how to balance school with.....everything else. Life, I guess. Oh UCSD. How much should I stress over missing a class or a quiz or failing a midterm? Because will those things matter in the "long run," whatever that is? I tend to forget that life is happening now; I have spent so much time living for the future. Is that okay? Healthy? Another balance, I guess. In little moments of rebellion, I convince myself that I can afford to put school and grades and academics on the back burner for a little while and relearn what it means to just play. But am I just being irresponsible and lazy and taking this education for granted? If I didn't receive so much financial aid would I work harder? Am I allowing laziness to become a part of my character? I am sitting in a coffee shop in downtown La Jolla and thinking that I know so little and I worry so much.
And, I don't want to be who I am right now. More than anything, this "Awaken" series that IV is going through right now makes me realize that I am not satisfied with who I am right now. I am such a child. I like attention and comfort and intrigue. But this is not the woman God is calling me to be. He is calling me to be wise and thoughtful, absolutely caring and sensitive, someone who makes others feel at ease and important and worthy, someone who is modest and confident, the kind of attractive that draws people in, a lover and not a competitor, someone who has no motives except love. And that is not me right now. BUT I know a God who makes all things new. I am ready to be made new.
Just as a side note, this whole blogging thing scares the hell out of me. I am so afraid of being vulnerable and finding out that what I have to say isn't good enough.
Life is a constant balancing act, I have come to realize. And there are so many different factors that need balancing. Just now, I am wondering how to balance school with.....everything else. Life, I guess. Oh UCSD. How much should I stress over missing a class or a quiz or failing a midterm? Because will those things matter in the "long run," whatever that is? I tend to forget that life is happening now; I have spent so much time living for the future. Is that okay? Healthy? Another balance, I guess. In little moments of rebellion, I convince myself that I can afford to put school and grades and academics on the back burner for a little while and relearn what it means to just play. But am I just being irresponsible and lazy and taking this education for granted? If I didn't receive so much financial aid would I work harder? Am I allowing laziness to become a part of my character? I am sitting in a coffee shop in downtown La Jolla and thinking that I know so little and I worry so much.
And, I don't want to be who I am right now. More than anything, this "Awaken" series that IV is going through right now makes me realize that I am not satisfied with who I am right now. I am such a child. I like attention and comfort and intrigue. But this is not the woman God is calling me to be. He is calling me to be wise and thoughtful, absolutely caring and sensitive, someone who makes others feel at ease and important and worthy, someone who is modest and confident, the kind of attractive that draws people in, a lover and not a competitor, someone who has no motives except love. And that is not me right now. BUT I know a God who makes all things new. I am ready to be made new.
Just as a side note, this whole blogging thing scares the hell out of me. I am so afraid of being vulnerable and finding out that what I have to say isn't good enough.
March 21, 2007
THE WIND
I listen to the wind
to the wind of my soul
Where I'll end up well I think,
only God really knows
I've sat upon the setting sun
But never, never never never
I never wanted water once
No, never, never, never
I listen to my words but
they fall far below
I let my music take me where
my heart wants to go
I swam upon the devil's lake
But never, never never never
I'll never make the same mistake
No, never, never, never
-CAT STEVENS
This song ushers in a clarity for me that is so rare. Apart from my Saviour, Amos Lee, and Dostoevsky, I can't seem to understand the language that my soul speaks. And so while I am in this place of clarity, here are some thoughts:
I heard somewhere a new take on conviction. Some much of my life and my relationship with Jesus used to identify with this word, this feeling. And while I had unknowingly attached a negative connotation to it, the real meaning of this word is found in the Garden. After they eat the fruit, God is searching out Adam and Eve, because He wants to walk with them in the cool of the day, like always. And this intimate calling out, here in Genesis 3, is conviction. It is not spiteful or harsh. God isn't trying to exploit or expose their guiltiness. Rather, He wants to simply be with them. And, because hindsight is 20-20, I can see clearly how this defined so much of my life. Times when I felt so convicted and guilty, and consequently angry, weren't because God hates to see me enjoying myself, but because He knows how dangerous and empty some enjoyment is. I can hear Him saying, "Sierra, you are so far from Me, please come back. I just want to be with you. I want to show you what true enjoyment is."
In any case, that was inspiring for me. I'm crushing on Jesus.
And, lastly, here is a bomb quote from Donald Miller:
"I was watching BET one night and they were interviewing a man about jazz music. He said jazz music was invented by the first generation out of slavery. I thought that was beautiful because, while it is music, it is very hard to put on paper; it is so much more a language of the soul. It is as if the soul is saying something, something about freedom. I think Christian spirituality is like jazz music. I think loving Jesus is something you feel. I think it is something very difficult to get on paper. But it is no less real, no less meaningful, no less beautiful.
The first generation out of slavery invented jazz music. It is a music birthed out of freedom. And that is the closest thing I know to Christian spirituality. A music birthed out of freedom. Everybody sings their song the way they feel it, everybody closes their eyes and lifts up their hands."
I listen to the wind
to the wind of my soul
Where I'll end up well I think,
only God really knows
I've sat upon the setting sun
But never, never never never
I never wanted water once
No, never, never, never
I listen to my words but
they fall far below
I let my music take me where
my heart wants to go
I swam upon the devil's lake
But never, never never never
I'll never make the same mistake
No, never, never, never
-CAT STEVENS
This song ushers in a clarity for me that is so rare. Apart from my Saviour, Amos Lee, and Dostoevsky, I can't seem to understand the language that my soul speaks. And so while I am in this place of clarity, here are some thoughts:
I heard somewhere a new take on conviction. Some much of my life and my relationship with Jesus used to identify with this word, this feeling. And while I had unknowingly attached a negative connotation to it, the real meaning of this word is found in the Garden. After they eat the fruit, God is searching out Adam and Eve, because He wants to walk with them in the cool of the day, like always. And this intimate calling out, here in Genesis 3, is conviction. It is not spiteful or harsh. God isn't trying to exploit or expose their guiltiness. Rather, He wants to simply be with them. And, because hindsight is 20-20, I can see clearly how this defined so much of my life. Times when I felt so convicted and guilty, and consequently angry, weren't because God hates to see me enjoying myself, but because He knows how dangerous and empty some enjoyment is. I can hear Him saying, "Sierra, you are so far from Me, please come back. I just want to be with you. I want to show you what true enjoyment is."
In any case, that was inspiring for me. I'm crushing on Jesus.
And, lastly, here is a bomb quote from Donald Miller:
"I was watching BET one night and they were interviewing a man about jazz music. He said jazz music was invented by the first generation out of slavery. I thought that was beautiful because, while it is music, it is very hard to put on paper; it is so much more a language of the soul. It is as if the soul is saying something, something about freedom. I think Christian spirituality is like jazz music. I think loving Jesus is something you feel. I think it is something very difficult to get on paper. But it is no less real, no less meaningful, no less beautiful.
The first generation out of slavery invented jazz music. It is a music birthed out of freedom. And that is the closest thing I know to Christian spirituality. A music birthed out of freedom. Everybody sings their song the way they feel it, everybody closes their eyes and lifts up their hands."
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