that i haven't written in a long, long while.
i don't mind, because instead of sitting at a computer screen, typing, typing, i have been living.
talking, driving, working, serving, breathing, thinking, loving.
living --
and someday, someday soon, i will write of it all.
i envy others (in particular, some of those others close to me) who are able to do both without strain: live and write, live then write; live. write. live right.
but then again i guess some are just born into this; they can't not write - it naturally flows out of them and finds the right place on the page, the right language, the right phrases. they don't have to find the time to do something that they can't help but do out of necessity. like the artist, the songwriter, the sixteen year old boy who races cars and fixes cars and talks cars and loves cars and knows everything about cars, who also happens to be my brother.
anyway.
i do not believe i possess this indwelling possesion with writing; i must work at it, and make time, and try hard. but when i get lazy, and feel the warmth of my heater, i start to get sleepy: my mind gets foggy, my body listless, and i subsequently close my computer, shove it under my bed, and crawl beneath the warm duck-down comforter, sinking into the soft santcuary of sleep.
tonight, however, i downed a cappucino at nine pm.
so even the radiating blanket of heat from the electrical sandman behind me cannot lull me into a sound slumber. if i climb into bed, which i am planning on doing in the next fifteen minutes, it will be only because common sense beckons me with an eight am wake-up call. serve saturday, la mirada park. i've been emailing people all week about this event, and yet now i realize that i myself have no idea where this place is.
and i'm picking up a girl 40 minutes from my house to come with me.
a girl who i just met on thursday, already has my number, is not yet fifteen years old, yet has already been in and out of the drug/party scene, and is falling more in love with Christ daily. she lives with two people from our church who are not her real parents, as her mother is on drugs and her father comes in and out of her life. she has already emphasized that she wants to hang out with me. and i believe tomorrow is the first time of many. which basically means i will have the opportunity to informally disciple her. she is probably going to be in my cabin for hume, and she is one of the most amazing fourteen year old girls i have ever met.
a dear friend of mine seems to be in a similar situation i was in last summer. or, last march-ish. kind of. i'm trying not to jump to conclusions, and not assume that everyone is a selfish hopeless romantic who only wants what they can't have, but i do know that i will be able to understand her in ways others might not. i will be able to pray with her. comfort her. help her look at things from God's perspective, not what other people are saying; to fear and obey the Lord, not what everyone else around you is yelling at you to do. to stay true to her convictions and not give in when people give you a pity-story or a "end of the world" plea. to be wise and loving according to God's word, not others' definitions. it's a hard situation, but much growing comes with the most intense "wtf, God?" moments. He really is faithful. truly.
and so here i sit.
God, are you serious? i don't deserve this. i just got here. what in the world.
why haven't i learned, though?
whenever i say, "i can do this, i'll be great, i'm experienced, this is my deal" - God says, "no way. this is about Me, not you. forget it."
then, it's always the times when i plea:
"i can't do this"
or
"i'm not needed"
or
"i'll just sit this one out, God, you got enough people doing this already",
God says, "this is exactly what i want you to do. beacuse you have to trust Me - not your own abilities."
so, yep.
my boyfriend will be here come monday, though i still have yet to know what time. but already i am getting those fifth-grader secret crush butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. i'm not even kidding. we have just started going through the book of acts together, and it's been amazing. last weekend was so precious, and i believe i am now even more aware of God's love, grace, and power because of it. i don't know what the future holds, but i do know who holds it. and that fact alone gives me reason enough to rejoice in everything, everything.
oh my. i am so unworthy to be called His. but i am. i am not fit to serve Him. but i do. and He delights in my smiles, my prayers; as a dear friend reminded me in one of her posts, He holds our tears. beautiful. not beacuse it sounds pretty, but because it is. true.
truth can hurt; truth can be painful, and raw, and sad for a time, but it depends on Who authors your truth. really. i don't trust myself to make my own truth. i believe the opposite of the great connor oberst, who sang with his haunting voice: "there is no truth, there is only you, and what you make the truth." there could be no sadder lie, my friends.
even though pain is real, suffering is real, loss is real and hurt and blood and events like tonight are real, stories like invisible monsters can be real, and devastating, and shocking. life can be lonely, and miserable, and empty, and hard. if life is real, then death is also real.
but what if you've found a way to defeat death? to escape the end? to live in hope? to know that every thread of pain, every drop of blood and every fallen tear are for a purpose far beyond this?
if i say yes, my life had better be about sharing this hope with everyone i meet. in any way possible.
if i am Yours, what do i have to fear?
there are so many that fear in this world.
oh, Defeater of Death and Lover of Mankind--
help me. to give. them. real. hope.
