Never Enough

"Express your hurt, share your pain."
So I did.
Opened up, stayed vulnerable.
That's what I did.
They welcomed me, they prayed for me.
But that was not enough.
They told me I was wanted, they showed me I was loved.
And still it was not enough.

Like a child I am kept in the dark.
And like a child my insatiable desire to know is left unquenched.
My feelings of acceptance closely tied to the expression of hidden truths.
Yes I express out of desire to be known.
But I feel betrayed when those I share with remain distant from me.
Drama unfolds around me, I remain oblivious.
Many wish they could share my pure naivete.
"How can you be so innocent in the eye of the storm?"

My friends shield me, believing they are protecting me.
Little do they know that the darkness slips through their armored walls,
Trickles past their feet.
I see it, I feel it. And I do not understand.
Do they think that by sparing me the pain of sharing their burdens,
That I can continue smiling?
How do they not see that the agony of seeing someone suffer,
Catching merely glimpses, sensing only passing moments,
Is so much greater than when they tell me the why's to their secrets -
Secrets that everyone but me seems to know.
Am I still an outsider?

Am I a fragile little one that they never want to see cry?
My parents shared with me many things.
They gave me their trust even though I didn't deserve it.
My God gave me love even though I didn't deserve it.
So why do I feel so troubled by my friends hiding things from me?
I grow weary of dancing in the masquerade.
Am I impatient for people to open up to me? Yes.
Am I eager for affection? Sure.
Do I struggle with achieving a sense of loyalty from people? Of course.

My ultimate desire is unity, oneness.
It has manifested itself in many ways -
I wanted friends, but shallow hellos and interactions was never enough.
I always needed more.
I sought a lover, but his affection was never enough.
I always wanted more.
I cultivated connections so I received different needs from different people,
But still those friendships did not sustain me.
It still lacked a depth and richness that I could not reach.

And I sought love from God. Over and over again.
He always calmed the fear, gave me comfort and hope.
Every time I received healing, I would venture out again.
But then I would always return, in pain and despair,
Crying in the arms of Jesus, begging to go Home.
And He would hold me, replenishing what I had lost.
But the same Love that renews me,
Is the Love that tells me to remain,
To reach out again.
To keep going out, keep trying.

This is His joy, this is His pain.
This Love, that desires oneness.
I do not deserve to know secrets.
It is not my place to demand to know.
But the desire remains.
And it is not wrong.
It is God's wish that we be one in His Name.
But we are imperfect humans, dwelling on a cursed world.
Anything good I receive while I live here in exile
Will never be enough.

Not until the day God's promise of finality is fulfilled.
So while I live here, this sensation of Pariah,
This longing for more,
The pain of the outcast,
Will remain.
But this need will move me forward,
To reach out to those who have yet to hear and receive the Promise.
To tell the world to cry, "We await, oh pursuing God.
Come Jesus come."

Fighting the Rain (a poem)

Creature of fire, standing in the night,
Alone, lonely, tired, weary.
Creature of fire, wings heavy,
Stumbling along the road.
She had been burning bright, growing,
Learning how to control some of her emotions.
She had been flying high, far, and fast,
Singing in strength and pride.
But the clouds in the sky grew dark,
Looming closer to her.
She flew on, oblivious perhaps,
Or maybe stubborn against the future.
Her happiness was strong, her persistence continued,
But within she knew something was wrong.
God sent the winds to blow the clouds closer,
And she felt the first drops of rain.
Steam arose, giving her pain,
She avoided the water, trying to fly around it.
God assured her the pain would not last,
But she must first fly through the dark and the rain.
Still she recoiled, remembering the last time she met the rain,
Remembering just how much it hurt.
She was tired of it following her,
Tired of facing it over and over again.
She saw no end, could not see beyond the rain,
Did not understand why she must endure it any longer.
So she chose to dive into the storm,
To fight no matter how much it hurt her.
But still she feared, still she trembled.
The last few storms she had faced had nearly destroyed her,
How could she do it again?
God reassured her, reminded her that every time she came out,
She had learned, grew, became stronger.
And He had been there for her, comforted her,
Held her and guided her and provided for her through it all.
He told her to believe Him again,
To not be afraid, and to trust Him once more.
She curled up at the edge of the storm,
Wanting to fight, not just fly.
He gently picked her up, telling her that she was not to fight,
That He will bring His warriors.
And she must fly to bring them hope.
And she must fly to show them the strength of love.

You Inspire

There is one girl in my life who is constantly unapologetic for who she is; ever truly herself.

One girl who wears her personality like a garment.

One girl who is loud when others are silent though they shouldn't be.

One woman who cuts through a conversation with a knife, daring you to respond.

There is one girl in my life who demands respect.

One girl in my life who speaks her mind all the time, who is not ashamed for being every drop of who she is.

And she is pure gold.

And you know what else?

She's not like me.

I? I grew up training to keep my emotions and myself in check.

I wear metaphorical masks of aspects of my personality and always toned down, never to my fullest intensity.

I grow silent about things I believe I have no place to speak about.

I measure my words, fearful of offending.

And most days I get respect from most regardless what I say or do so I feel lost when I don't get respect instead of feeling angry when I should.

I've gotten into the habit of keeping my opinions to myself, keeping who I am to some degree inside all the time.

There is one girl in my life who I look at, and I see her, and I say, "How beautiful. How much of her is not me. I need that difference in my life. I want her influence, her intensity, her perspective and thoughts and voice and choices around me, near me, beside me. I need this friend."

And you know what else?

We're not alike.

That's what's so incredible, so amazing.

I was blind to the fact before.

I prayed for people to come into my life to change me for the better. Now, I see the next step. I see her. And I need her around.

Our ethnicity is not the same, our backgrounds are so different, her opinions on many things so separate from my own, our appearances nothing alike, our cultures almost alien to each other.

But in THAT is the real beauty.

We as humans have a tendency of leaning towards sameness, pushing to be around those like us and denying the presence of anything that unsettles us, makes us uncomfortable and not fit in.

But there is a greater, stronger, better, bolder unity in uniqueness.

But all this is pointless as long as no one moves to empty a seat for the welcomed, and no allowance for change produces stagnancy and stunts our growth of who we are.

I think we need to change our mindset, from standing idly by.

Yes, I am educated. Aren't I not to use that education to benefit others?

Yes, I am privileged. But what am I to do with this privilege? Should I not use that privilege to help those who have less privilege than I?

It's time to change the way we speak.

It's time to say, "You're not just welcome here, you are wanted here."

This is what I say to her.

She is so much better than me in so many ways.

Ya know what girl? White girls are envious that you be you everyday.

In meeting you I have chanced upon a beautiful precious stone that shines colors that this precious stone doesn't compare to.

I have prayed for someone like you to come around that by just being you, you're daring me to say more, do more, be more. That can never be taken away.

You inspire.

 

 

 

 

Inspired by a friend and the speaking of Micah Bournes (http://www.micahbournes.com/).

The Comet

It shines in the sky, bright and beautiful.
But only for a while.
It flashes away, far and gone.
But only for a while.
Did you see it? Did you see it?
All who saw it say.
A glimmer of hope in the darkness.
That must have been something.
The comet.
Here, and gone.
Touches your vision, only to vanish.
Will you be around when it returns?
Don't know.
But you saw it. Or you missed it.
Will you be around when the burning rock returns?
Don't know.
But it came. And that must have been something.

I'm no angel. I'm no hero.
But I'm only here for a while.
I'm nothing special. I can't save the world.
But I'm only here for a while.
Did you know me? Do you know Him?
That's what I hope you'll see.
A glimmer of joy in the darkness.
That must be worth something.
A comet.
Not a planet. Not to be remembered for something great.
Here, and gone.
Touch your heart, only for a time.
Will I ever see you again?
Don't know.
But you knew me. Or didn't care.
Will I ever see you again?
Don't know.
But I was here with you. I hope that was something.

Fighting For You

Inside your mother's womb, fragile and small,
You awaited the days ahead.
Growing up, starting to walk, to speak, to run,
You learned the joys of life.
When dangers would dare to oppress your future,
I was there fighting for you.

A child turned teen, struggling with social pressures,
Facing the troubles of a new kind.
It seemed that so many ideas and authorities
Pulled you too many directions.
You were still so young,
Continuing to grow, to learn,
But mistakes and cruelty filled your days,
Combating your mind, your heart, your soul.
When insecurity over who you were and fear made you doubt,
I was there fighting for you.

A youthful adult now, stepping out into the world,
Learning to hope once more.
But even then enemies found you, new bonds left shattered,
You were broken and betrayed, lost and alone.
You were battling shadows, traditions, rules, thoughts.
Your tears inside and out counted more than the raindrops in a storm.
No matter where you turned, no matter what or who you gained,
One by one it's been stolen from you.
And every time you get back up,
Something knocks you down again.
Even in your darkest hours,
I have been there fighting for you.

I have always been fighting for you.
My enemies surrounded me, My people surrounded Me,
But I was alone.
I too was betrayed.
I was sold, beaten, insulted, laughed at.
I was tortured and left to die.
Even then I was fighting for you.
I never backed down before demons or human rulers.
I told the truth and listened to those who spoke to Me.
I cared for all, the rich, the poor, the majority and minority alike.
I fought for them. I fought for you.
To the doorway of Death and beyond I fought for you.
I died and fought Death to live again, for you.
I returned home to prepare a place for you.
I move throughout the world,
Not just simply watching.
When you cannot fight,
I do.
When you are powerless,
I am not.
When you are alone,
I am there.
Your strength is of Mine.
Your prayers are Mine.
Your gifts are from Me.
Your love is of Mine.
Why do you doubt?
Why do you hesitate?
Do not be afraid.
Let Me lead.
Stop fighting Me.
Stop fighting people.
It is time to fight the real enemy.
The darkness that laughs,
The whispers that degrade,
The heart that hates others,
The evil within, the evil without.
Sin is your enemy.
You must let Me fight it.
I always win when you let Me lead.
But as long as this earth remains,
The battle is constant.
I can save you, but if you take charge again,
You have to turn back and let Me lead again.
Don't fight Me.
I died. For you.
I rose. For you.
I fought for you.
I am fighting for you in a new way now.
And as you continue to choose Me,
I will always fight for you.

Too Much

Too insecure, too bold.
Too soft, too loud.
Too needy, too strong.
Staying with the ebb and tide,
Unsatisfied with the status quo.
Too conforming, too demanding.
Too forward, too concealing.
Too sensitive, too apathetic.
On fire but exhausted,
So lonely but so proud.

Boxes, cages, little labels.
Rules, laws, little expectations.
We are humanity.
We like to be in charge of our destinies,
Control our lives.
We want perfection,
We desire happiness.
But we do it wrong.
We only want so much of this and so much of that.
And sometimes you are extreme for me.
And sometimes my not enough is still too much for you.
Can only take so much.
So we draw out lines and use cookie cutters.
Demanding of ourselves and everyone around us -
"Fit this standard.
Mold or you don't belong.
Yield or you are a sinner."
Some of us like to play the victim,
some the prosecutor,
some the judge,
but we are all the guilty one.
We demand ways of life.
Either on ourselves or on others.
Those who demand of us hurt us.
Those who demand of themselves are hurt.
We who demand of us hurt us.
We who demand of others hurt them.
"Too much! Too much!" We are all screaming.
But 'intense' and 'faint' are both a part of life.
Sometimes a whisper is needed, sometimes a shout.
It has always been too much or not enough with humanity.
Are we so self centered that we cannot understand a simple truth -

You are who you are,
I am who I am,
Sometimes I am too much for you,
sometime you are too much for me.
But I promise you this:
If I respect you and you respect me,
If you let me live and I let you be,
If live one way and you another,
If the vegan gal is okay with me eating bacon around her,
While I do not berate her choices though they seem extreme to me,
(and this was only one example)
Then though we may never find equilibrium while on this earth,
at least we can abide together,
and learn and grow in life,
Intense together.
Uniquely beautiful.
Give me hot or give me cold.
Be too much.

Hope (A Verbal Painting)

A lone candle...burning in a dark room...its light beckoning you to stand in the rays of its tiny flame.
A trickle of water...splashing droplets over a trellis into a dry stone jar...a dipper ladle waiting on the edge for you to take it up and taste.
A beam of sunlight...peeking through the mountains...dawn's ray caressing your cheek after a sleepless night.
A warrior...battle scarred...returning home to beloved family.
A destitute child...body worn and hungry...looking up at you with smiling eyes...happy to be alive.

The flame blown out.
The rain stops too soon.
The day doesn't last.
The warrior has to leave for another war.
The child falls ill.

The shadows draw close.
The ground dries and dust fills the air.
Nightmares claim the night.
Fear grips the warrior.
The child cannot breathe.

An ember.
A droplet.
A glimmer.
A song.
A breath.

And then you see it.

Flames and Water and Light and a Dove and Wind.

The Spirit.

Bringer of Hope.

A Unique Bloom

     I walk through a garden, filled with many blooms. Each flower grows in its time and in its beauty. Unique. I make my way down the path, passing by life after life, beauty after beauty. Some draw my eye quickly, some I have to take care not to pass without giving them at least some recognition. Wish I had the many lifetimes' worth to give equal care to all and get to truly appreciate each one. But in my imperfection as a human, I have missed so many along the way. Only the Gardener can see to them all.
     But every once in a while, one flower will stand out in my vision, seeming to be right in front of me, capturing my full attention. What is this rarity? I ask myself. Why do I find myself so focused? I worried that I would reach out and touch the fragile petals gracing the heavy stem and possibly ruin the blossom before me. I feared I might hurt myself on the thorns. And then I grew concerned that my attention may be growing too singular, my admiration of this exquisite creation too strong.
     I longed to dig up the bloom and take it with me, unlike simply taking a single petal of remembrance to preserve as I have done with a good portion before. Or to become rooted myself and to stay beside that lovely flower. For who was I to know that I would ever come across one like this or better than this unique one? I fearfully kept myself at arm's length, wanting to let myself love and not just appreciate for a time. Only the Gardener would know where my path would lead.
    
     This is not actually about flowers.

     This is about my life and my interactions with fellow humans. Recently I had several very emotionally vulnerable moments with someone. I'm extremely grateful God put that person there right when I needed it most. As I heard only an hour or two ago, "It doesn't take very long for you to know you've met someone special." But I've started to question what that role of that person is in my life. Am I only to hold loosely, for my fellow human will most assuredly leave in time and I may never see that face, hear that voice, and enjoy that company and friendship ever again? Or am I free to clasp those hands and hug that person with joy and without hesitation for I have found a friendship I can keep?
     This is nothing new. It's just harder this time around because I recognize potential - certain possibilities that were not there with the other friendships I have grown to trust and cherish simply because they are married, in a relationship, or not my type. The struggle, though still there, is far less intense when the possibilities aren't there. Do I have a crush? No. Any time those feelings arise I cut them down. Yes there is the possibility for something more, but I don't want to mess this friendship up by giving control over to something as fickle as feelings that come and go like the clouds in the sky.
     But enough about that. My concern is encouraging a friendship that won't last. A people person I may be, extroverted tendencies I may have, but the fact of the matter is I am so insecure, so unsure. I need God's guiding hand more and more every day.

I Pray For Fire

The shadows dance. The shadows laugh. "Victory!" they cry.
The demon Despair runs a pale finger through my hair, whispering of failure.
His brother Regret clutches my ankles, muttering about my mistakes.
Cousins Fear and Depression giggle from the doorway, awaiting their turn.
Loathing, Self-righteousness, and Revenge fling their knives at my back.
"Burn!" they all scream. "Burn! Take your fire and burn yourself and everyone around you!"
My head is bowed as my strength fades.
My heart is heavy with the knowledge of my failure.
My soul is wounded from betrayal, mourning the loss of one whom I called friend.
"Worthless," hiss the shadows in my ear. "Your efforts of kindness are in vain."
Tears find my cheeks as I turn my soul to the Enemy of demons, the One who rules all destinies. I cry for comfort, for hope, for strength. I weep over the loss and my wrongs. I lift my hands in submission not to the demons in this place, but to the God who lives. And I pray for Fire.
The Fire that burns away all impure things.
I pray for Him to burn away all things wrong from me, to give me the pain that declares I am being made new. I pray for Fire.
The Fire that lights up the darkness so the shadows must flee.
I pray for Him to burn the shadows as He promised long ago, to keep them from hurting anyone else. Lord let me be their last taste of human suffering. I pray for Fire.
I raise my voice in song, in worship of He who loves me. I speak words of love to the One who led me to strive in the first place, knowing He will pick me back up again.
I may be down now, but I will rise once more. I may be wounded, but I will heal. Because I know He who sends me eagles' wings. Because I know the Healer who conquered Death, living again.
Begone, shadows. Remove your grip from we who live here and never return. Begone in the Name of Jesus the Risen King! Oppress us no more! Begone!
Lord, I lay me down to sleep, this house is Yours. It belongs to You. I belong to You. You love me and I worship You. I belong to You. Burn me away until only You remain.

My Old Friend

     Sometime last night, my old cat friend at my folks' place died at the age of thirteen. I grew up with that grey tabby. I knew him since he was a tiny, fuzzy kitten. Out of the half-dozen different pets I've had in my life, Tiger (yes, soooo original, but hey, my little brother was in kindergarten then and we had to agree on a name!) was the best pet I've ever had.
     He had good energy, loved to play, had a wonderfully therapeutic purr, knew when I needed company and when I wanted to be alone, fit perfectly on my lap when I sat on the couch, taught me about people more than a lot of people taught me about people, never talked back, listened to everything I said (though I doubt he understood any of it), preferred me over the rest of the family, tolerated the dog (she came later in my teen years), always came home, and kept me company when no other company would do. I spent super bowl Sunday (two days ago) at my parents' house and enjoyed Tiger's company, thinking it was probably the last time I was going to see him alive due to him loosing the ability and desire to eat the entire previous week (my mother tells me). He lay in the sunlight until it got dark and then climbed up into my lap, purring happily (apparently for the last time, he spent all of yesterday vomiting) and enjoyed my company once more.
     As I'm typing this, the house cat of the place I'm living in is falling asleep on my lap, as if she knows that I miss my old friend. (Or maybe she was just bored with the other residents. I don't know.) And I marvel over just how different each and every cat is from another. They are completely fascinating creatures, with unique voices and behaviors. And for me personally, my favorite animal. So much character radiates out from a cat. They are so alien in form and yet it is strangely beautiful. They are fun creatures to photograph and, as I said, something about a cat's purr is just so therapeutic. But back to my friend Tiger. Some people just never know what good things (or people) they have in their lives until it's too late. I'm thankful I got to appreciate my cat until the end. And now he's not sick and in pain anymore. Yes I miss him, but I will remember him fondly.

In loving memory of Tiger.
The best friend in an animal a girl could wish for.
Rest in peace.

The Power In Me

I read these words: 1 John 4:16 "And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them." What? I do not know this love. I do not understand.
Tired, yet alive.
The Fight, this life, is so much harder than I thought it would be. I trained, set my mind for persecution. Prepared to be cut down, laughed at, ridiculed. I was even ready to die. But my place in life is so much harder than that.
Weary, yet pushing on.
Faith, Hope, and Love was preached into my bloodstream. It is my way of life. When doubts overruled my faith it would be restored with a single glance at me from my God. When I lost hope and my days were filled with despair over mankind, the Son would shine through again. But Love, in all its complex simplicity and power, was so beyond me. But I was promised a mustard seed of Love that rapidly grew until it overwhelmed me and I drowned. And lived again. And I understood: Love is stronger than light energy - infiltrating deepest space and every crevice of my soul.
Empty, yet full.
I was picked up, set on my feet, and told I would learn of Love's power. Told that the eyes of my soul would be opened to colors unseen. Told that my ears would burn with the songs and screams unheard. Told that I would touch the immaterial. Told that my heart could not withstand the strain of experiencing the purity of God's wrath at the same time of the purity of the forgiving fire. And I understood: Love is the force behind creation.
Poured out, still flowing.
I was pulled out of the dirt. Every single flaw, mistake, problem, and sin I ever did and do lit up like a neon sign. I was told that I had betrayed the Lover of Souls. And condemned. Then Someone took my place on death row. I was set free. And I understood: Love is sacrifice.
Used up, still strong.
I was shown my gifts and talents. Shown the silver lines in the dark tapestry of my life and told to look for it in everyone else. I was shown that beauty resides inside each and every soul, just waiting to be awoken by Love. And I understood: Love is guiding.
Worn out, still going.
I was given passion for my fellow human beings. I was given compassion and care in abundance. And in my desire to give I sought, and still seek, to put aside every moment to selfishness in my life. Still I stumble, but I turn to the Selfless One who died for me and humble myself and ask for forgiveness and to be made stronger still. And I understood: Love sustains.
Stretched out to the limit, still have slack to give.
And in reply I was given a new heart that beats for all people, singing for the voiceless and dancing for those who cannot walk. But I turn and see the shadows. I look around and see the despair and hatred in the eyes of those around me. My heart burns for them. I weep over their wandering blindly, refusing to see what is within their reach, just aching to change them into something so amazing. I declare that I will be like a stone on the pavement that cries out when the people fall silent in the glory of God. 
Real love feels like pain but still giving. 
Real love feels like blood pouring down your hands from inflicted wounds and you still forgive. 
Real love feels like aching for someone to become to much more than they are, knowing the potential they are missing out on. 
Real love is letting who you love take every bit of your soul, who you are, just to prove how much you love.
Real love is spending every moment begging for others to receive the same never-ending joy and power.
And I understood: Love is the greatest power of God. That is what the verse means.

Need (A Poem)

I believed I needed someone.
Longed for someone to fall asleep beside at night.
Wished for someone to forgive my past.
Prayed for somebody to be there to hold me when I am too weak to hide my pain.
I believed I needed someone.

I knew I needed to be selfless.
Longed for the day I would stop taking.
Wished for the day I could give everything without needing.
Prayed for a time I would be closer to perfection and serve everyone with endless joy.
I knew I needed to be selfless.

Conflict. Irony.
Paradox. Inconsistency.
My need for more of another, my need for less of me.
My weaknesses battling for control.
Would these two ever be in harmony?

I justified my needs.
Told myself that if I had someone I would focus less on me.
Told myself that if someone would let me be weak I would be stronger.
Told myself that if I gave I would be given to.
I justified my needs.
Said that if I served someone might serve me.
Said that if I wasn't alone I would stop being hurt and hurting others.
Said that if I showed change I would be forgiven.
I justified my needs.

But it wasn't enough.
I dropped my standard.
Gave up on perfection.
Depended too much on someone just as selfish as myself.
Over and over again.

But Perfection found me.
Picked me up, held me close.
Forgave me, told me to forget the past.
Promised me it wasn't weak to show my pain.
Perfection found me.
Gave me a life full of never ending joy.
Told me to go and sin no more.
Showed me the love that endures forever.
Perfection found me.

He was enough.
My God who lives.
He is Perfection itself, and still loves me in all my imperfections.
Beyond my weakness and selfish desire, He is enough.
The Lord of All is everything I need.