I don't know about you, but I opened my front door this morning to an unfamiliar world of cold and fog. It was a welcome change. The calm white chill in the air whispered forgotten words to me with its stillness: all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well in the hands of God.
I don't know about you, but I desperately needed some perspective this morning. I needed Truth to pierce between my bone and marrow, between my circumstances and reality. I needed to see what is really going on here. It didn't happen right away. In fact, it wasn't until later in the morning when I was walking through parking lots, of all things, that I started thinking.
This is what came of it:
1. Hope in God
2. Don't Complain
3. Be thankful for little things
4. Believe truth, not feelings
5. Remember loving is never a bad idea
Sometimes simplicity is best. It can help to clear away the fog, so to speak.
(I should mention, the calm white chill bore a striking resemblance to Julian of Norwich.)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Turn to Face Him
This one's from my vault. More self-talk. Verbose and mostly un-edited.
Sometimes things don't turn out the way we thought they would, or the way we hoped they would. And when the reality sets in, or stares you in the face with the immediacy of a punch or a cup of cold water, as is the case more often than not, dissappointment inevitably follows. That is normal. Sometimes, when you offer a hidden, tender part of yourself, a part that has never seen the light of day, and it is not loved, the experience goes beyond the realm of dissappointment and takes you instead into the lonely barren wasteland of all your insecurities and all the things you are afraid of and all of the reasons why you were right when you told yourself never to offer that part of you. Here is where hope is lost, dropped from your hands, stomped into the ground and left to rot because you are doing what you should have done in the first place—walking away. Dissappointment. Despair. These are the dark nights of the soul. They are forces that are the hardest to fight and there is nothing we need to fight more than these. We can start with a simple, straighforward truth, break the ice a little: I am not abandoned. Maybe I feel abandoned by one million people and things, maybe I have been, but there is One who has not abandoned me and He makes it impossible for me to join the Abandoned Club. And once the ice has cracked a little, stack truth upon truth. This one may take some time: I am loved. That is about the last thing you want to tell yourself when you are in the thick of dissappointment and despair. In fact, if you could, you would take the very word 'love' and hurl it with all your strength into oblivion. But love will not be hurled. It will come at you and come at you and come at you until you are so sick of its relentlessness that you throw yourself upon it for relief. And this is not a bad idea, but why not save some time and begin to believe the truth of love now, in the dark night. How, you ask? It is not as difficult as you may think. In fact, the answer lies in four little words. Ready? Turn to face Him. That's all. Turn to face Him. He is good and He is kind and He is where hope comes from. Turn to face Him and He will be there, facing you. You will find that it is impossible to stare equally at the face of Love and the face of DissappointmentandDespair at the same time. Only one face will have you. He will not shove dissappointment and despair aside and demand your attention because He is not the shoving kind. But He will keep your gaze if you give Him a chance. Turn to face Him. All it takes is a moment. And that moment is the difference between a dark night of the soul and a dark night in perfect, unbroken love. And with love like that, the darkness pales in comparison.
Sometimes things don't turn out the way we thought they would, or the way we hoped they would. And when the reality sets in, or stares you in the face with the immediacy of a punch or a cup of cold water, as is the case more often than not, dissappointment inevitably follows. That is normal. Sometimes, when you offer a hidden, tender part of yourself, a part that has never seen the light of day, and it is not loved, the experience goes beyond the realm of dissappointment and takes you instead into the lonely barren wasteland of all your insecurities and all the things you are afraid of and all of the reasons why you were right when you told yourself never to offer that part of you. Here is where hope is lost, dropped from your hands, stomped into the ground and left to rot because you are doing what you should have done in the first place—walking away. Dissappointment. Despair. These are the dark nights of the soul. They are forces that are the hardest to fight and there is nothing we need to fight more than these. We can start with a simple, straighforward truth, break the ice a little: I am not abandoned. Maybe I feel abandoned by one million people and things, maybe I have been, but there is One who has not abandoned me and He makes it impossible for me to join the Abandoned Club. And once the ice has cracked a little, stack truth upon truth. This one may take some time: I am loved. That is about the last thing you want to tell yourself when you are in the thick of dissappointment and despair. In fact, if you could, you would take the very word 'love' and hurl it with all your strength into oblivion. But love will not be hurled. It will come at you and come at you and come at you until you are so sick of its relentlessness that you throw yourself upon it for relief. And this is not a bad idea, but why not save some time and begin to believe the truth of love now, in the dark night. How, you ask? It is not as difficult as you may think. In fact, the answer lies in four little words. Ready? Turn to face Him. That's all. Turn to face Him. He is good and He is kind and He is where hope comes from. Turn to face Him and He will be there, facing you. You will find that it is impossible to stare equally at the face of Love and the face of DissappointmentandDespair at the same time. Only one face will have you. He will not shove dissappointment and despair aside and demand your attention because He is not the shoving kind. But He will keep your gaze if you give Him a chance. Turn to face Him. All it takes is a moment. And that moment is the difference between a dark night of the soul and a dark night in perfect, unbroken love. And with love like that, the darkness pales in comparison.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
From My Journal
(I wrote this not long ago...inside a dark night.)
There are a lot of things i don't know.
These are some things i do know.
I have to go to my job tomorrow.
There is a reason why i am there.
God is taking care of me.
I am not a wife.
I am not a mother.
I am not a songwriter.
He has me in His hands.
Reading more books won't make me better.
Being productive won't make me more worthy.
Practicing the drums more won't earn me validation.
I belong to Him.
Because He has set His love upon me.
I don't need answers.
I don't need change.
I don't need to make Him proud of me.
I need Him.
There are a lot of things i don't know.
These are some things i do know.
I have to go to my job tomorrow.
There is a reason why i am there.
God is taking care of me.
I am not a wife.
I am not a mother.
I am not a songwriter.
He has me in His hands.
Reading more books won't make me better.
Being productive won't make me more worthy.
Practicing the drums more won't earn me validation.
I belong to Him.
Because He has set His love upon me.
I don't need answers.
I don't need change.
I don't need to make Him proud of me.
I need Him.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
These Aggrivated Days
When I feel discombobulated, out of control, frightened of indefinite sameness...i find it hard to write. Lately I've felt this way and i've had a tough go of it. To divulge more would only end in spotlighting the glass half empty side of myself. The truth is that's only part of me, not all of me. So, until I can wrap my arms around and settle this untamed beast that is the workings of my inner world, I will pull from the archives and post clarity of days gone by. Recycled writing soon to follow.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
10/30/89--8/31/09
I am going to a memorial service today. Jonathan David Storll Welch. Jon Jon. Jonafin. Johnnykins (i don't think he liked that one). Killed by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan. We met 19 years ago. He was six months old, learning to crawl. I was seven, and Kimberly and I were hopelessly devoted from that day on. It's easier for me to write about God or writing or my own interpersonal troubles than it is to write about this. I can't control this and I can't hide from it. There is no resolution or clever last line. Just messy grief spilling out of all of us who love him. He is gone and we are brokenhearted. We woke up this morning with the heaviness of knowing we have to say goodbye today. We don't want to, but we have to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)