"i made a promise such a long time ago that i would take in experiences-- all of them, 

so i could tell the people about them and maybe save them, but it gets so tiring.

i try to take in all the experiences for everybody, letting anyone say anything to me. 

and i realized i'm not different. i want what everyone wants. i want all the things.

i just want to be happy."

-girls, hbo

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

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

let's be frank...

i am made up of the encouraging words of my mum.

of the playful game of hide and seek until dusk.

of the whispers muttered in the dark, withheld from authority

of the decisions crippled by fear.

of the security of constant best friends.

of the reading into moments, when that crush was had on you.

of the division in the family; the only one to carry this perspective.

of the rich smells from nostalgic summers past.

of the uplifting utterance made by the steadfast.

of the "quiet" mockery about the goody-good, in classroom corridors.

of the books and words i have held on to.

i am made up of many parts, weaved together. yet, the struggle lies within remembering. remembering that i am the sum of the parts beautifully weaved together. a myriad of cultivated moments. quirks from this or that. 

while pondering the reality of what consumes my mind most, the unspoken came to my attention. without acknowledgment, i have devoured the lie that i am insufficient. the lie whispering, if i worked dilligently enough, i could become (like) the people who i see are greatly valued. as i swallow my pride to reveal this in the light, truth is i put so much pressure on the way i look or how i am. i have created this idea in my mind that who i am is not enough. the not-so-pretty reality and result is in that little friend we love to hate: mr comparison. they say that comparison is the thief of joy. and boy-oh-boy, i could vouch for that. 

this flawed filter i choose to view myself in, i fear is detrimental to how i love others. and i desire diddly-squat to stop me from loving with everything in me, therefore i must love myself. this is my prayer and my cry to you Lord. save me from self deception & lend me your eyes. 

i am made up of confused paradoxes. and that, that i will cherish.

sincerely, 

B

finding home again

i drove a long ways from home. across this state of mine and into a whole new state of mind.

it was the furthest i’ve driven, the furthest i’ve driven alone.

and the further i went, the further i got from the heart i didn’t know i left behind.

i drove away from home and when i returned i realized i didn’t have a home.

i had somewhere to come back to, with a family who missed me, but this is not my home.

this place, here on earth, is not my home.

this place is temporary, fleeting; like emotions, like our earthly possessions, like anything not built on a solid foundation of Christ.

i came back to this place, my house that i won’t call home, with a conviction that i should be and should have for a long time been striving for a life constantly in the pursuit of my Creator. 

i should be longing for the intimacy that i get to have with the God of the universe that i, in no way, deserve.

i want a character that reflects Christ’s love so clearly.

i want to seek Him and believe that everywhere i go, is Holy Ground.

i want to long for His word.

i want to fix my eyes on what is eternal, what is everlasting.

i want to make every decision a decision to g l o r i f y Him.

i came back home to Christ.

Heaven is my home.

my God is my home.

my God, You are home.

-S

i was sitting at my computer, eyes squinting, when i saw my glasses sitting beside me on my bed. i rolled my eyes at myself. the fact that i would sit and type, squinting my eyes, when the solution was sitting right beside me was me in a nutshell. choosing to go on stubbornly, with a problem that had a solution so clear and obvious is what i do. all the time.

i was told to write a letter.

"write a letter to the person you need to say things to. but don't send it," is what i was told.

apparently you're supposed to write these things you'll never tell someone to make yourself feel better. write down what you want to say, get these thoughts out of your head and onto a piece of paper that will just go in the trash...somehow that's supposed to make everything better. throwing away the words that hold weight and truth. words that you would say to someone if only you had the courage. keeping those words to the confines of a paper thrown away...i just did not understand how that could make anything better.

and as i looked at my glasses beside me, i saw more clearly.  i tend to make the problems in my life seem unsolvable, or keep the problems stuck in my head, letting my thoughts eat away at me. then, in the midst of trying to come up with a solution, i negate my own thoughts by saying things like, "well what if this really meant that?" or "maybe i'm just making it all up in my head".. and because of this, it goes on for much longer than it should. and nothing gets done. nothing gets solved. it just piles on until i either explode, or push the problem or the person away completely.

so i had written this letter with no intention of sending it. but after writing it i realized i needed to say the things i had written down. i couldn't just give these words to someone. they were my words and i didn't want to give them to someone who could keep them forever, should they choose to keep my letter. these words were too important to me to give away, but also too important not to say. because sometimes you have to use your voice...your audible voice. sometimes you just have to muster up the courage to actually speak. to use your own inflections for words or phrases, say things in the way you want them to heard, let someone hear how difficult it is for you to verbalize what you need them to hear. i couldn't let these thoughts sit in my head anymore, and i certainly couldn't let them sit on paper in a trash can. 

so i decided it was time to speak. and that is what i will do.

-S

dark vs. light

the light is clarity

it is polished

it is telling

it is what is right

the dark is indulgent

it is haunting

it is delicious

it is secretive

it is truth

are you who you said you would be?

in the midst of sweepingly subtle metamorphosis?

when your integrity falls into hypocrisy, straight from the pedestal you’ve put it on?

when you’re lured into the truth that lives beyond what your lips have always spoken?

into the dark of the night we fall:

quiet, hushed sounds of our echoing irrevocable truth

the dark is the most fatal temptress

then light comes with the morning (or rather mourning), and it burns

burns truth into our skin

slowly and guiltlessly; delivering a self-reproach too heavy to carry

the light is remorseless

the dark tries to hold the secrets and truths too ashamed to surface...
but they will always finds its way to the light

are you who you said you would be?

-S