where i find you

i don’t recognize myself

tinted green of jealousy and physical ailment from my selfishness and inability to simply be happy for others
self-loathing so strong my body aches in rejection

i’m often struggling to feel happy at all

where i lack happiness, i lack in compassion and a listening ear

my saving grace has been reliance on the one who has grace enough to save a wreck like me

and a wreck like me really needs saving quite often these days

and out of His grace I find myself no longer wondering, “why is this happening?” instead i ask Him, “what are you trying to teach me with this? what can i learn here?”

i find myself on my knees all of the time. praying for a sign, for an answer, for something

calling out to God for something i can understand

for something that makes sense

for something i can reason with

but reason to me is not reason to Him

this holiday season was of particular difficulty.

overrun by things of least importance, the hustle and bustle and neglect of what really matters, i find myself wishing i could turn back time and do it all over again.

recreate the memories now engrained in time

make new the things i know i can’t change as much i wish i could

but again, i ask “what are you trying to teach me, God?”

i will wait in silence. with any shred of obedience and patience i can find within myself, and where i fail, i will lean on His unending grace with steadfast hope.

for a foolish sinner that is me, i have a God who perfects unconditional love.

-S 

dirty laundry

i met with my mentor yesterday for a few hours over iced tea, which was ironically, or maybe not ironically, called "happiness".
we talked about things i've talked a lot about before; friendships, relationships, figuring out who you are, etc., but never have i understood these things we talked about in this way. she gets what it's like to be me, because now as a married 30-something who used to be a single 20-something like me, she gets its. she gets the heartache of being single. the confusion in self worth. she gets it, she was there once too.
she explained things in a way where i realized i had always felt them too, but i never knew how to explain it, or really never knew where the feelings were coming from:

the feeling i would get after talking to a boy that was just a friend. a really close friend. it has always been so natural for me to go deep in discussion, to want to fix things, to help people with their problems, and in turn also tell them mine. i would tell them everything. secrets and desires spilled out, continuously uprooting myself for them.
and the next day i would wake up exhausted and empty and gross.
i would become so invested in this person, whoever it was at the time, and them in me and the next day i would just feel gross...like an emotional hangover. i never knew that feeling of exhaustion would later turn into regret. regret that i gave too much the night before. too much of my mind, too much of my heart, too much of me.

after tea with her yesterday, i went home and took a shower and still i felt dirty. i let the water fall over me and around me, as i tried and tried to scrub this feeling off my body. i felt not my own. i feel not my own. like there are parts of me scattered all over town, hiding in the hearts of men who didn't want me, but acted like they needed me... oh the danger in feeling needed... pieces of me i couldn't get back even if i tried.
i feel like everybody elses' but mine. and the worst part was that no one took it from me, i gave it away. i gave in to the lie that i was special, that i was his "favorite girl". whoever he was at the time, i always believed it. i found immense comfort and complacent worth in being someones "favorite girl." i always believed them, so i willingly gave myself away.
i feel dirty and used and exhausted. like dirty laundry; worn and dirtied and thrown, no longer useful and in desperate need of washing.

i'm exhausted from being the stand-in.

the girl always used for my mind, my time, my energy, my words, my strength.
wrung out and left to dry over and again by the men in my life who have left after having found the girl to replace the stand-in with. a girl who gave everything i had to give, but the difference was that they wanted to kiss this girl as well.

so right now i feel dirty and empty and exhausted and used. and i think that's a really okay place to be in; totally empty with nothing left to give, and in turn fully reliant on the holy spirit of god to fill me back up with His grace and redeeming love. 

"trust in Him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge. -psalm 62:8

....pour my heart out to Him, for God is my refuge"


-S

to kolomyya

i've missed kolomyya since the second we left.
the first step onto the train.
the moment we took our eyes off the people we came to love so quickly.
i haven't been able to stop missing it all.

everywhere i look i think i've seen the face of someone i probably won't ever see again.
every familiar voice i hear belongs to someone i once knew, when really it's just the person around the corner.
but it's not them. as much i want to believe it is, as much as i would give anything for it to be, it's not.
they're there and i'm here. all the way across the world.

it's just the way it has to be.

somehow, it only took a week.
one short week and i could call these people family, i could call this place home.
bound by nothing but the Holy Spirit and the power, hope, and promise of the cross, connecting people to each other supernaturally and irrevocably.
but this isn't how we work. to become so close to people only to have to say goodbye forever--it's not what we're made for. 

not what our psyche as humans are capable to handle.
it's too unnatural. too hard. 

but it happened and we must go on with the mission we've been created for.

still, kolomyya will reside as a soft ache in my heart.
not an ache for something broken, but rather for something that is so whole and holy it can only be explained as good.

good in the context of how the dictionary defines the word. not the i-just-have-poor-vocabulary use of it. our modern language has really dimmed the richness of this word.

good (n). - that which is morally right. righteous.

i can't find a better way to describe this ache. it hurts so good. because boy, it was so good. it was all so good.

it's an ache that serves as a reminder that love is powerful. that love and prayer should overflow in and out of us. it should consume us.

and of course, there's the tinge of inevitable sadness. 

sadness that i won't get to hug them anymore. that i won't get to hold hands in prayer again.
but just as i ache with that pain, i gladly accept it. because with the pain comes this ache of goodness, as proof of the righteousness we've been incredibly blessed to have experienced.

i wouldn't trade that up for anything.

and finally, it's an ache that's sole purpose is to remind me that it all meant something. that everything, every second was worth it.

that God moves mountains.

that God changes hearts.

that He is the sovereign, almighty God. 

and that is the God i live to serve. 
-S

under the same sun

lessons i've learned under the summer sun:
(in no particular order)

---> i can have messy, day-after-the-beach- hair, minimal-to-no makeup on if i want to. and strangely i've never felt prettier than that simplicity.

---> treat sleep as a suggestion rather than necessity some nights. stay up to see the sunrise. have an adventure while everyone is asleep. a lot of life can and should happen in those dark and beautiful hours.

---> i often find myself reverting back to really wanting him. and in that pursuit i continue to lose myself and what i want. over and over.

---> the art of discernment is a lost art. one i'd like to bring back, one i'd like to practice fiercely.

---> sometimes, every great once in a while, the attraction is so strong it can become the bane of your existence. the not-quite-but-almost existential dilemma you've come to over and again; that lust is just that, a child's game. that wanting and having mean two very different things.

---> swimming in the ocean under the moonlight is far better than any alternative.

---> watching fireworks from the roof of your house with your best friends is the best way to do independence day.

---> one day i'll be strong enough to walk away and not leave a single piece of me with him. and that it's OK if i'm just not there yet. 

---> listening to the thoughts and minds of generations before you should be a required practice.

---> to stop saying, "i hope he likes me" and start saying, "i hope i like him."

---> don't be ashamed of where you're at. you'd be surprised to know that most everyone is right there too.

---> one day i'll be enough for myself and from there, everything will follow suit.

-S

the details

i've noticed that the big things always seem to fade out in your mind. the important things, the things that mattered. the parts of it that brought you to where you are now go away somehow. always.

then you're only left with the details. 
the small, minuscule details that get reminded to you through a song, or a smell, or place you once went with him. a blouse you put on and remember that the last time you wore it, he told you looked good that night. driving by a place that held homage to where many words and vulnerable truths were exchanged. a song on the radio that brings you back to his car, that night you drove until the freeway ended. a look in the eyes of someone else that makes you realize his look was so different.
and it all isn't so bad anymore. in fact it's nice. it's something like a small victory, almost worth celebrating that they don't ache behind your eyes as your memory replays it for you...that all these memories are fond ones now. 

the victory in knowing what it’s like to feel that way, and because of that you know now you could never settle for feeling less about someone else.

-S

12:34

(. . . tell me that you love me more)

i could see from out of the corner of my eye him watching me walk across the room.
his body followed his eyes as he made his way over just to tell me that he thought my voice was beautiful. that i had a beautiful voice.
i could feel my eyes smile when i looked back at him.
coming from him, it was the best thing i had ever heard.

-S

a cautionary tale

she locked it up at a young age.
for fear of it being mistreated, misused, cut or bruised.
and as time went on and she grew older, the tower that protected it became taller and stronger, brick by brick.
nothing and no one could neither get inside nor tear it down

and inside her tower lived but one single beating heart. her heart.

slowly losing color, losing faith, losing life day by day.

it sat in a small box, boarded up by the locks and chains of insecurity, fear, vulnerability, truth; all the things that made the walls build up to be so tall.

and with the sunrise and night fall of every new day that came to pass, her heart began to gray and grow tough, resembling that of a cold stone.

for that is what her heart became.
in effort to protect it from any harm, she was the one to do the most damage

and it was a shame
a sad, sad shame


-S

when a match strikes the box

i lit a match just to watch it burn

just to watch it fade out right in front of my eyes

just to watch the flame consume the stick

like an animal consumes its prey

like a heart consumes a mind

like a persons love consumes another

i struck the match on the box and the fire burned slow and dim

i watched him from across the way like i watched the flame

i didn't look away when he looked back at me

his gaze captivated mine, neither of us wanting to break the stare

in those few seconds i was his and he was mine and that was that, not even a single word exchanged.

the fire finally burnt down to nothing, like it always does

but that moment still flickers in my mind

there are so many matches in the box that will strike and burn longer and brighter than others.

when will the rest of the box no longer ignite my curiosity?

-S

scaredy cat

pushing people away & running in the opposite direction.

these things i am way too good at.

-S

"how can someone who wants to be loved, hate it when they're loved at all?"

 -sarah jaffe

one cell in the sea

sometimes i feel as though i am lost in a sea of people

people who don't understand. people who don't know i'm there

i could yell--i could destroy things--and yet all they'd see is the fake smile plastered on my face

if only they looked into my eyes--really looked--they'd know how much this is killing me.

i wish i didn't have to tell people--it makes it too real. too hurtful. 

i wish they just knew.

i feel alone. this pain seems unbearable--intolerable.

i can control my thoughts in the day--when i am conscious of my actions and when i can fuel the void--but in the midst of the night, when the pain in my heart and stomache seem overpowering, i lose control. 

i lose the pride i hold in the day. 

i lose the thought that i can actually move on.

i begin to think i don't want anyone else. i would have been so happy. his hands fit mine so perfectly. his hugs so calming. his voice so warm.

but i have no choice. i don't get a say in this. 

i must move on.

in this sea of people--people who will never understand-- there is hope.

He gives me comfort in the night.

He gives me confidence.

confidence in a new tomorrow. 
confidence that this pain will one day be no more. 

in this sea that is beyond endurance-- that pushes and shoves and cripples-there is a calming voice. 

a sanctuary of safety. 

if i truly long to cease this pain i will surrender to the One who created me.

i will give up this hope and turn to something much greater. 

He is the only way.

the only way.

-KRD

(since it is our 50th blog post we had a very lovely girl write a guest post! thanks krd!)

for fear of the...

it is not the meaning of love, nor is it the fear of love lost
it is the fear of the vast unknown:

i'm afraid of the ocean
anxious by its immensity

the curse of hypocrisy, the trepidation of commitment
ambivalence courses through me like the plague
it might be a disease, an "actual mental illness" 
i swear by it


-S

stubborn love

i was right
i was right
i was right i was right i was right
i was so so right

i don't want to do it but i have to
i have to let go. i have to walk away--because someone has to and that is why i was right
and as much as the notion usually brings me much pleasure, i wish i was not right about this.one.thing.
i was right and i wish i was not
i wish i was not

i wish you were not you and i was not me when we are together--because this would be much easier.
but it never is, is it? the things you wish could be easy
is walking away right because things shouldn't be this complicated?
is fighting for something right because it means something?
is it cowardly to walk away or strong to move on?
the only thing i see as simple is that i simply do not know

i was right and i wish i was not.
i wish it didn't have to be this way, but it does.
i wish i knew what i wanted, but i don't.
i wish we were not us, but we are---which is why you won't hear from me anymore.
and i wish i could tell you this, but i will not--because after all, you never told me. 
you never said anything. 
you had so many chances, but you never took one and that makes me sad.

and as much as i wish i wasn't, i was right.
i was right.

-S

"between men and women there is no friendship possible.

there is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship."

-oscar wilde

nyc and me

"i was in love with New York. i do not mean 'love' in any colloquial way, i mean that i was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and never love anyone quite that way again."

-joan didion

about less than twenty four hours before my flight, my parents were about to cancel--being that i literally had no where to sleep once i got off the plane.
and twenty four hours before that, this trip hadn't yet existed.

i let go and stopped fighting when they decided to cancel--and in that exact moment of surrender, my sister told me i'd have room to stay with her in manhattan.

i packed and was on my way hours later. the first plane was easy, just a quick hop to san francisco.
of course we couldn't get off the plane for another half hour after landing, right about the same time my next flight would be boarding. sheesh. talk about no control at all.
i got out and walked with great intent (because power walking doesn't sound cute) to the next gate and thank goodness my flight was slightly delayed. an act of God, i swear by it.

this next flight, i sat by a lady who looked disgusted by everything and everyone, including me.. and boy was it difficult to relax *just a little* for the five hours of flying. thanks crying baby and stomach-dropping turbulence and lady whom i will try with great restraint to not call a certain derogatory name. thank you.

the difficulty didn't stop there.
since the flight was delayed, i got to the terminal at about twelve thirty am, which would mean i missed my shuttle by about an hour. and of course no one was at the airport to help me figure out how to get out of there. i can do this, i thought. i don't need help. and i didn't. 

i saw a couple together at the airport, and i thought, must be nice to be taken care of like that, by a man who wants to protect you.
but i didn't need it. i felt strong.
i did everything today alone. a whole lot of traveling alone and i felt capable and confident--like i could take care of myself. like i didn't need anyone.
i had myself and that was enough. and that felt good.

i got picked up at around two thirty am from the airport--that's life, waiting two hours in the depth of the ungodly hours-- that's adventure. you gotta roll with the punches. 
almost there. almost there.
as i sat in the car, tall buildings passing by, i felt at home again.
a small, cheesy smile spread across my face: i was in New York City.

i arrived at three am, finally at my sisters apartment, carry on in one hand, coat in the other, and under eye circles that gave my traveling-all-day-doesn't-make-me-tired-at-all facade away.
and the best part of it all was that i felt like i got to see something no one really does...
i got to see "the city that never sleeps" in a silent slumber; and as tired as i was, i felt luckier than anyone asleep or awake at three am.
i was home in NYC

in that moment nothing else mattered

-S

a plea to shake the dust

some days, the fog is impenetrable.

today, i can't even see my own hand through the fog.

my heart is downcast. 

my mind is at capacity; while my mouth is at a loss. 

its presence leaves an unpleasant pressure on my chest. 

the reason is uncertain.

a number of things, doin a number on me.

i remind myself i can be honest here. so here goes something.

it takes every ounce of me to be open with people.

"do i need to change how i act depending on the person?"

i want to make sure everyone is heard and happy--so i forfeit my voice. 

stumbling to share even the tiniest parts of my heart.

comparison paves the way for my absence. 

today, it took so much to even be pleasant. 

no, i don't completely know what i want to spend my life doing. 

i do know i have a passion to love people with love i do not possess.

i wish it were as effortless to walk away from our friendship as it was for you. 

confined by the boundaries i've built myself. 

is it too much to get over my hill and be still?

there is so much to be. 

i can't find myself in all the haze i've created.

all of this makes me weak human.

all i ask is,

to shake the dust.

and all i can do is run. 

run fast and quick to the only one who restores the broken. 

sincerely, 

an honest B

please excuse my feeling vomit above.

she & him

she cleans the house when he leaves

she cooks all day, and touches up her makeup before he gets home

she makes his plate on the table she’s set

she asks him questions, and receives unsatisfactory answers

she washes the dishes, and brews his tea

watching him fall asleep in front of the T.V.

this is her everyday

and she wants more

he wakes before the sun

he checks his phone while he's still in bed

he dresses for the meetings ahead

he drives against the traffic day & night

he comes home tired, as anyone would be

he kisses her on the cheek, noticing the perfume

he sits at the table, eating the food she’s made

he lies on the couch with the dog on his lap

the droning of the T.V., slowly lulling him to sleep

this is his everyday

and he wants more

she sees her reflection in the compact mirror, in thewindow of the oven

he sees his reflection in the screen of his computer, in the glass door of his office

and they don't ever see each other.

-S

defeated the night

i am speechless when imagining how it would feel to be one of the women visiting tomb of Jesus, only to find that it was empty. the most significant day in all of history. three days after a sinless man was crucified  for those (us) who were sinful, he rose again. He was the innocent one who took away the sins of the world. proving physical death does not end human existence but promises that we too shall be raised to Heaven. imperfect beings receiving undeserved grace. this day is a reminder of when we became One with Him again, despite what the shelves of convenience stores say this day stands for.

broken hearted, lost, empty, curious, hurt, neglected and lonely people ran toward Jesus today with courage. the Lord had been softening the hearts of many without their knowledge in hopes that they would seek Him with reckless abandon. leaving a spirit of timidity behind, one by one people lined up to proclaim their love and commitment to follow Him. what a beautiful portrayal of dying to our old self and finding new life in Christ. 

Easter is quickly becoming my favorite holiday. honestly, i grow a deeper love for it each year. 

sincerely,
B

one step forward two steps back

hey you,

i get it-adventure and opportunity seeking runs through your veins. it is lovely, believe you me. but making promises and plans with me can really mess with a girl. especially a girl who is tragically captivated by your boyish charm. 

sincerely,
B

runway not runaway

sometimes, i love something or someone so greatly it aches. the good kind of ache, of course. the kind that leaves darkness high and dry. only revealed by soft shrieks through clenched smiles. giving fear what it deserves-abandonment. it rolls away your stones, shedding light on bits and pieces.  it's pressence stirring a fondness for the little things. an adoration reminding you just how intriguing life is, and not the lackluster we've made it out to be. with it's visit (or mine, rather) comes clarity and a reminder just how precious life is. i embrace the joy this brings. 

fact you may or may not know about me: i love the airport with every bone in my body. everything about it moves and excites me.

sincerely,
B

pieces not peace

 *written circa 2011*

--to you--

all the things i’ve thought but will never say

all the things i thought then and now, about you, about me

the truth--my truth

by now, the seasons have changed a few times over

faces you never thought would, faded

like yours

but even so, my eyes haven’t once wept

and then there’s you

you, who knows every.inch.of.me

well now I guess ‘knew’would make more sense

if there is any way to make sense of it at all

you know, i wanted to go there, then

i think

i know i wanted to want to go there, with you

i thought and thought and thought until my mind ached for solutions i wouldn’t ever find

for feelings i wasn’t ever sure about

but i was sure i wanted to be sure--about you--about me--about all of it

and i wasn’t

if that makes sense

if there is any way to make sense of any of this at all

i’m no longer shaky like i used to be

tied up in uncomplacent knots, thinking of what i’ll say the next time i see you

remembering and replaying what i wish i had said the last time i saw you

wondering if there is anything worth saying now at all

it’s harder for me to breathe now though

--so there’s the tradeoff i suppose--

it’s like i’m only allowed short breaths, the tight-chest-but-slow-heartbeat/hot-tears-in-your-eyes kind of breaths

the kind that never quite satisfies you, like you can’t seem to find enough air

and there’s never enough air because i can’t breathe deeply anymore with this hole in my heart.

the hole that used to be where you always were

and even though i’m full aware the heart is pumping blood and not storing emotions like we’ve been fooled to believe--that area where my heart lies in my chest--it aches at the thought of your absence

a space i never knew was there until it was empty

until you were gone

i feel suffocated knowing that i don't have all of myself anymore

that you still have that piece of me with you

even now, when it has been so long

i’m mad at you for that

i’m mad at me for that

is it ever hard for you to breathe?

was it ever hard for you at all?

did i have a piece of you too?

these questions i've wondered, and fear i always will

and still every time i walk away from you, it's as if i stayed

as if i had never left

there’s a piece of me where it shouldn't be

just pieces -- and no peace


sincerely,

S