somebody turn the lights out // there's so much more to see in our darkest places.

they say that everyday is the start of something beautiful,
but it's hard to see the beauty in the gray area, the no-man's land
the uncertainty of whether your dad is going to live or die
and not knowing if I'm strong enough to tell oyu
"it's gonna be okay"
and hold it together if it's not.

I wonder if you saw how red my eyes were.
I tried to hide it, matter-of-factly,
but I had to let myself worry on the way over,
so I wouldn't once I saw you.
Does that make sense?
(I so desperately wanted to anchor you).

I don't know what I did that night.
I thought I'd distract, but I didn't, or watch you cry,
but I didn't,
or even just hold your hand (which I did, but not enough).
Maybe you just needed to lay, skin to skin,
feeling the contours of my arm
and holding on so tightly, you thought I might float away.

Building an altar is sacrifice, they say,
and choosing worship over panic
is a costly decision.
But I heard more notes of love and fear
in what you couldn't bring yourself to pray
than a thousand choirs' worth of singing.

When you stared at my in silence,
and then told me I was a blessing,
your gaze was so unlike you, I shivered.
This stranger-version of you,
in so much pain he is no longer himself,
made my heart ache with the weight of it all.

And in the dark, the monsters are in your own head,
now that we're adults
(they still exist, and are scarier than before
with no one to reassure you).

I'm glad you found hope in the light, strength, and song
and that you held me to make yourself feel better
because the world isn't so cruel as to end with me in your arms.
-12/14-08

eventful.

today was eventful in a lot of ways.

church this morning was interesting. I went to a women's bible study group beforehand because I didn't really have anywhere else to be (senior high and young adults [read: college] was taking a break, and so I went to jess's mom's group with jess and Mrs. Sanchez and Lisa. So that was really interesting for me; we talked a lot about children and basic problems that women have in dealing with kids, from being too disciplinarian to not enough, and allowing the father to take over for all the "hard" stuff, to being too "smothering" or wanting to fix their lives for them, and it was really interesting, mostly, from the perspective that every single one of these women loved their husbands, but definately found fault with them in a variety of ways. Each of them had a different thing that really wasn't working, but all of them wanted it to and tried really hard to work around it. Which I thought was awesome. It made me kind of sad to listen to some of the people (like mrs sanchez, "if Javier tried to grow a backbone, I'd break it! -laughs-) when they made their husbands out to be weak, because I don't think they are, or that that's what they're called to be.

One of the things I loved was when the woman leading it made this connection between Eve and Adam and how men and women are called to be in relationships, and that when God created us as male and female, our natural inclination (as women) is to be conniving and get our husbands to do what we want by wheedling them into it, and as men, our natural inclination is to sit back and take it and be pushed into different things because we don't really want to be bothered to do that on our own. But, the neat part, is that God's command to the fallen Adam and Eve was a role reversal of our comfort zones on both parts--women, to be subordinate to the will of the man as the final call, and men to be the prayerful leaders of the house, to have to make these kinds of choices as an equal partner with the wife but ALSO with God, and recognizing that if God hadn't commanded this to us, relationships as we know them wouldn't work and wouldn't be as full.

Neat, huh? I liked it.

So, Al (not my favourite preacher, but still good nevertheless) talked today about the anticipation and arrival of jesus (which have already happened) leading to adoration, which naturally leads into an attitude change. This also ties in well to what the leader of the women's group was saying to a woman who was talking about her husband (a new christian) and how he doesn't treat her son (his stepson) like an equal part, but more as a shadow of her ex-husband. And the woman leading the class turned to her and said, "honey, you know what? he's got jesus now, and following that lead is going to make things a whole lot better. You just have to give him time to grow in it!"

That reminds me of this idea of adoration leading to a change in attitude. Because it will, if we let it. Hebrews 2:14-17 (mostly 14, that's my favourite verse) talks about jesus's destruction of the fear that binds us; the fear of death. I know it seems silly, because I don't really think I'm very afraid of death, but then I look at all of the anti-aging products out there, the ways to keep your mind sharp, the treatments to bring you back from the edge of death into a shadow of what your life once was, and I realize that everyone's afraid of death.

The other big focus of al's talk was on the attitude switch being about selfishness, and changing our selfish attitudes (which are very me-first, egocentric) and taking time to be overcome by adoration. Being filled with a profound reverence for God, and being overcome by the emotions towards him. How freaking sweet is that? Our invitation, from God to his creation, is to be radically and emotionally changed, to be overcome, and to have such a shift in attitude that we're all out here for each other. Philippians 2:4-11 is a huge focus on this, that Christ came to model an others-centric attitude (he came to serve, not to be served. why don't we do that?).

We owe him our best. The shepards and the wise men gave it to him. They just didn't understand yet that he wasn't talking, por lo mayor, about material things. He's talking about our lives, our control, our decisions, the very essence of what makes us, us. And it's a really neat thing to let go of.

hallelujah

I think this is my first miracle. I hope it's not my last. He's alive, and getting better everyday. Hosanna.

from josh:

CIVITAS

I find that in stepping out of the city
I’m immediately forced to touch reality
I lost service and then found it
Lost in the arms of grace (in human form)

This place smells comfortable
It tastes like the saliva of a sweet declaration
It sounds like homemade food and feels like the stars
It looks like joy
I’m home

Through the car’s heat
Familiar Street shines red and green
With hints of yellow in between

And then it hits me,
I can’t live alone
Not now
Not ever

Thank God I won’t have to

Backyard lessons and frontseat drivers remind me
Love resides here

December 2008

my heart is breaking.

I didn't realize how much it hurt to watch someone you love go through this much pain. Josh's dad is missing. He has been since roughly 7am yesterday, and I'm really worried. God gave me the strength last night to be strong for him, and we spent the night holding each other and praying that it would be okay. God, I know there's still hope. I told him he doesn't get to give up on that yet, and he's right. Hope is the expectation of a coming good, and an anchor for our souls.

I know that, but I keep repeating it to myself anyway.

I know there is good coming. God, please let it be here soon.

I love you, Lord. And I know that Jim does too. Please hold his hand, wherever he is.

i never knew making him smile could mean this much to me.

I told a boy, once, that I wanted to go
to a college in England.
It freaked him out that I dream big
(it freaked me out that
he thought he loved me).
I still dream, but I don't think he loves me.

I told a boy once that we shouldn't
put a limit on things.
"Just let things happen," I said.
He told me I couldn't expect to understand him, at 16.
I still know more than he realizes, but
I understand why he shot that dream down.

I told a boy once that I wanted to be a missionary,
to doctor in South America
He told me to get real and stop dreaming God.
I still dream South America, but I never dreamt God.

I told a boy yesterday all of these things,
and that I'm falling in love.
He told me that they made sense, my dreams
and smiled
(which ties all good together).
-07/05/08

Two poems from the summer.

Route 17

I will always feel at home in appalachia.
Inexplicable, but the rolling green
(hills, at best, rather than the mountains they claim to be)
dotted with farms
pierce the blue of the sky in a way only barely-mountains can.

Inhale the sunny cold of Maine,
exhale the infinite mossy green of Pennsylvania.
(sometimes New York sneaks up on me
and my breath catches in my throat).

It's hard to drive on 17 in a straight line
when beauty catches your eyes and tries
to pull you off the road.
Rumble strip.
--07/06/08

REM
Sometimes I kiss your forehead while you're sleeping
and watch you shift a little,
wondering if I interrupted your dream.

Maybe your huge, steel airplane
just did a barrel roll
or your car turned into a boat
and sped off into the sea.

Maybe you just made a three pointer
(in a losing game, probably,
though I might be underestimating your basketball skill)
or sewed a man's heart into his chest
and watched it beat again.

I wonder if you watched your sister pitch a no hitter
or your brother hit a hole in one on 18 to win it all.

Or maybe I have no effect
on the content of your REM.
But why, then, do you smile when
you feel my lips on your face?
--07-06-08

good morning

In my dreams, now, I wake up like we used to.
New dawn light peering through seafoam blue
curtains,
bathing the room in a rich yellow green
like the crayola crayon always left, untouched, in the box
because there was never any use for such a shade.
I see the use now,
soft on your eyelashes, nose, bed-mussed hair.
From Target, I think, and they were on sale.

I usually wake before you, and play with
the day-or-two's worth of beard
making its presence known on your chin,
brushing off the morning sun from your cheeks.
My fingers linger in that warm spot
behind your ear.

I love that you keep your eyes closed to say good morning,
and how you smile, still mostly asleep, when I respond.
Sometimes you roll over and bury your nose
deep into the pillow, as if a bouquet of daisies
(the kind you picked for me once on the side of the highway)
and I wonder if you still smell them
if you close your eyes.
(I do).

I miss watching you act out the last few second of that dream
as a pirate, captain, or major league shortstop, about to
win the world series,
and the disuse in your voice when you force out a
one-syllable good morning.
("hi.")

But mostly I miss the half-light, stretching its legs and beating its chest
as it claims dominion over the shadows
on the contours of your face.
And how it never quite made it to that warm spot
behind your ear.
-12/02/2008

tonight was interesting.

michael and I talked for a while after church about what I had been musing around while I was there, and I feel a lot better about the young life situation now. I think I easily get caught up in the idea that because I serve a god of excellence, I want to represent him excellently in everything that I do. And I fall short every time, and it's frustrating at times. but the thing that josh keeps reminding me of, and I really like, is that God uses our shortcomings to bring his kingdom to earth. That it's through using our weaknesses and the things we suck at that he's able to do something worthwhile.

I know that it isn't up to me to transform peoples' lives, but I don't want to ruin that process for someone else and for the spirit to take over, you know? And so I obsess about q/b study running smoothly, and wanting young life to run better, that I worry, you know? And I worry about things that are pointless. Because the thing I realized tonight is that God knows that even my excellence, which I feel is very lacking anyway, will never be close to his. So why do I try to be perfect? I'm not. And I think that in imperfection, there's a whole lot of beauty. So whether that's stumbling over my words when I talk to a high school kid or not knowing what to say to noor except to give him a hug or to wish that it was more appropriate to hug the guys at the Ponce Clinic, at least I'm trying, you know?

I'm really thankful that sometimes God lets me be encouraged by the way that others see me. Even if it's just Josh and Jim. Because that means so much to me. And it's funny how differently other people see you, that when you feel like you're being the worst version of yourself, other people see the beauty in it.

And I told michael I was thinking about learning to play guitar and he was like "Good! finally!"

So that's decided. Except they want someone to play keys too. Dang. I can't do that. But he had all the same ideas as me and definately feels similarly bleeugh about needing to put in some major face time at school. So. that's great, and we can go together, and I'm really encouraged.

I think when I get frustrated like I did friday night, it's because I'm not taking a deep breath and saying a prayer about it. I thought about that with Buddy tonight. I need to be better at that.

Hope.

once again, another step back.

this is a frequent one for us, it seems, but josh and I are taking another step back. that's physically, not, like relationship-level-wise.

which is a good thing, I think. I certainly left feeling really good about it. and it's not that I don't love being with him, and every minute of it, but I guess I feel like somethings are just a little too much, at least just yet. and I think that's okay. I mean, it's weird, but I feel like there's a chance I might be giving all of myself to him, eventually, and in way more ways than the physical, and so that makes it easier to kind of step back and assess the situation. like, I might want to do everything/anything/something that isn't really okay, but I can wait, really. especially if not waiting means risking ending this.

because the thing is, an accidental escalation of something leading to something leading to us going WAY further than we meant to is really the only thing I can think of that would end our relationship. and I don't want to risk that. I'm not willing to even tiptoe through the area.

I adore this boy. really really. and I can't risk losing him. I said that to him, tonight, when we talked about all this stuff, and he looked through me and half smiled and said yeah.

and I don't understand how it doesn't frustrate him when I do this. I wait for the cassidy moment, where he yells and tells me that's ridiculous and what am I expecting of him. and it never comes.

and I'm so thankful. I don't think he really understands what it means to me that he doesn't freak out, or yell, or look away sullenly and muster up the ability to speak and not yell.

-shakes head- god marvels me with how he blesses us.

"a freestyle to make sense of nonsense."

beautiful.

---
Sometimes it's hard knowing someone so well
liking someone so much
that you don't know what
to say
 
Should I say anything?
or is the churning in my
stomach enough of an indicator
that no matter what
I say
 
I can't fix the feelings
inside her
 
what a wreck
 
i guess the best we can do
is hope for change
for courage or wisdom
 
the things we don't have enough of,
the things we want
more than anything else,
these are often the very things
we have in
each other
 
what a beautiful disaster
--11/09/08

everything's right.

My fish has a dirty bowl.
It's needed cleaning for a while,
but I don't relish taking him out to do so;
watching him wriggle between cupped palms
unsure or unwilling
refusing to let me take care of him.

Sometimes, like Betty, I convince myself
the world doesn't have my best interests at heart.
I can't be perfect, so I can't be better
(that follows, right?)
and I fight the hands that hold me.

Denial is violent, like a seizure,
lashing out, thrashing to get out
hoping to be let go, let alone
(even if it means swallowing your tongue).
You can't argue with a seizing person.

He cleans the bowl with the time honored Clorox blend of
blood and smiles, sacrifice and hugs,
faith and hope
(they both have those, though).

And I'm left wondering, as always,
why would I have ever told myself
happiness wasn't in the cards?
-11/06/08

true love

In jewish cemeteries, there are piles
of dirt, freshly dug out
and the hole, waiting for filling
(but out of love, not duty).

In christian homes, we
cry, believe in a future, wait expectantly.
The jews expect less, and so, love longer
(or with more passion at the end,
which they inherited from their forefather's
passionate wrestle with God).

The rabbi tells me they do what God did first,
although I think shiva was added because humans grieve more
(uncertainty lends itself to tears).
But what God did for Moses, we do for
brother, father, sister, mother
mixing sweat with tears, determination with peace.

We fill in the holes of our hearts
knowing deuteronomy set precedent for how to move on.
-10/20/08

"You're Doin' Great" Mix.

Josh gave me a "You're Doin' Great" Mix today. And I had kind of a weird start to the week, with some young life stuff that didn't quite go as I planned, and a physics test that I expected to do better on, and stuff like that, and it makes me really happy. Because there's a whole heap of incredible stuff on it.

This song is beautiful. And I didn't realize that it has to do with Jesus, but it definately does. Mostly I kept getting stuck on the image of "please don't fight these hands that are holding you." And I realize that that's something I definately have a tendency to do, which makes no sense. Why would I fight to get out of the grasp of my creator? I know I do it with Josh, too. I think that might be poem material.

Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go

I wrote this to josh. but I'm sick of being a whiner and am not sending it.

I'm a little bit of a disaster right now. And I don't know if there's really anything you can do about it, but I'm really frustrated, and it's silly, because my day was so great. But I've been doing three physics problems for over two hours and I still have one more to go and I hate having to call laurie to ask for help because I should be able to do this.

I don't think I should send this email.

I'm going to extrapolate, then.

It's so unfair that she never has to pay attention in class and I always do and I STILL CAN'T DO THE FREAKING PROBLEMS.

I know life isn't fair.

I'm relatively close to tears over such silly stuff.

things I want to purchase / obtain in the somewhat near future:
1) aunt jamie's chairs (for next year)
2) a double wide sleeping bag
3) a climbing pack (christmas?)

a half hour ago, I was in no state to begin doing work. I mean, I was going to, but I was frustrated about it, and how it's a saturday night, and how I miss josh, and blah blah blah. and I realized while I was wasting time online, that I really wanted to go pray.

So I did. I climbed around outside and found a spot (that wasn't very good, true) but that let me sit in the half-light dark and just pray. And I realized as I prayed around it, that what I'm lacking right now is security. I feel insecure in my relationship with josh too often to actually make sense, because it's something that's beautiful and peace-bringing and full of light. And I catch myself apologizing too much, or realizing that I'm being self conscious about something that's stupid, or doing something and second guessing myself. And that's silly, because I know that josh thinks the world of me. So why do I worry? And it's almost identical with my roommates, me worrying that they're upset with me or just frustrated or me bottling up frustration about stupid cleaning-y things. And with my future. The same insecurity, the same worry, the same self-doubt.

And I realized, while praying, what's lacking in my life is peace. The peace that surpasses all understanding. God's peace. It's what I find so infectious about emily. And I was like, well, what does emily do that I don't do? And she prays more, and spends more time reading the bible. And that makes her relationship with God stronger, deeper, etc.

So, why not just do that?

So. abandon. Complete abandon. I prayed for god to pull me off a dock into rough water and not let go of my hand and see if I can make it. Abandon in my activities, relationships, future, young life, everything. Just trust and abandon, because if I can be secure in christ, I can be secure in my relationships and my decisions and my life.

So. I walked back floating. And knowing God was smiling. And it's a beautiful, beautiful thing.

lie awake and wait for the sunrise / there'll be no sleep tonight

I got a bunch of music back from josh today, in an attempt to fix the crisis that was my computer crash. I'm listening to one that was a soundtrack of this summer (Nine Til Midnight by Honestly). It's a really, really beautiful song. Mostly it reminds me of lying in bed at Cornell, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling and missing him.

I guess I bring this up because Laur and Ry have been talking about studying abroad recently, and it's been making me think, because I really hadn't considered doing it until they brought it up. Not that I don't like traveling, because obviously I do, but because of major stuff and premed stuff and a whole raft of stuff like that, it just seemed like it wouldn't happen. That, and the fact that since I plan on spending 5-10+ years working overseas, I guess I'm not jumping at the bit to go now. I don't think I'm the typical "I've never left america and this is my only opportunity ever!" sort of kid who does study abroad.

But what would it mean to do it? I mean, my roommates will be gone, if they go (which they probably will, spring 2010). And me? Well. That becomes the question. I know that there are a ton of opportunities here, and I don't know if studying abroad would help me or hurt me on that front. I know I'd be bored out of my mind here without the girls, and that leaving josh here would be really, really hard. I only know that after this summer, and the most we went without seeing each other was 8 weeks. And it felt like forever. But, he might not be in atlanta next year. He could very easily be in baltimore, eastern NC, or a raft of other places. And if that happens, will I wish I had applied and gone, since I won't be able to see him as often anyway?

It's just a little strange to me, because I really hadn't considered this, and now I'm trying to decide what it would mean to go or to stay. and I know that I'll regret it if I decide it makes sense academically and I don't go. So. does it?

I really need to pray about it.

joshua radin has a new cd out. that's really exciting. : )

I realized today while I was writing an email that when Josh tells me about some of the incredible encounters he's had with homeless guys, I'm so excited for him and so glad to feel a part of that that sometimes I almost feel guilty, as if I don't ever have those experiences either.

That's silly. I do have something to offer, in that department.

I need to stop doubting myself.

la vie

I haven't been here in a while. I miss it.

I read an incredible book the other day. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

"Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I could never explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against his shoulder. The outside of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn't explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?" (181).

"There are more places you haven't heard of than you've heard of!" (154).

"We stopped laughing. I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: "do you like me?" (116).

"Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with lips. So, in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are" (99).

this book is incredible.

the idea of beauty interests me. I know that when josh first told me about jeffrey, the 3-time high school senior who had no one and called young life "going to church" because he'd never been to one, but he liked YL so much, I mentally pictured him as a skinny tall kid with long black hair in his face smoking a cigarette. Basically: attractive.

Jeffrey's really kind of pudgy, has teenage boy facial hair, and girly handwriting. And I've prayed so much for this kid that I feel like I know him. And I really like him for what he wrote to me.

Why do I default to imagining him as attractive? Because that has no impact on his personality. He's a wonderful kid who found christ at YL camp and will never be the same, because that's what jesus does to people. And I think he's another notch in my book teaching me not to judge people or assume things about them. Because this kid is a rockstar. And he deserves to be free from judgement.

sunset over the dead sea

antes de 7 de la mañana,
el aire de afuera me pica mi garganta
y tengo problemas cuando trago.

that intermediate nearly-but-not half light
remembers dusk, remembers evening
shadows settled under your eyes
(which actually made them more attractive)
now lift to your forehead, hide in your hair.

they say early morning is tabula rasa,
the breeze refreshes the runners as they pass
and I lay on my back,
face to the sky, attention on mississippi.

dawn is still, the sun rises silently
and I am both alone and not alone,
entirely silent, entirely still.
morning.
--07/30/08

honey, I will stitch you.

so, I stayed up late thinking about this. especially what Josh said about love, and God being our ultimate lover whose goals for us are just that we'd figure out his love and apply it to the world, ourselves, and our relationship with him.

yesterday, chris asked me what I'm most afraid of. I don't really have any phobias or silly things, so I couldn't really come up with one. Then he switched it to what I most want for my life. I named a few things off my list, but couldn't come up with one that was the ultimate goal. I felt kind of lame.

Now I know. I think that what I most want and what I most fear are the same thing: loving completely: god, the world, and someone else. I've been praying about it since then, since it's kind of a crazy thing, to be scared to love God completely, but there's a lot that goes along with it--being completely committed to what he wants for my life. which, of course, is what, at the core, I want for my life. and I know that I am his, but how completely? how fearless is my love? and ditto that about the world--loving the world completely means allowing it to pull you out of your comfortable life. And as for another person, that's just as scary as the other two--I'm not sure if there's anything more vulnerable and raw, because the thing is, God we know will return our love, 100%. Other people, there's always the risk of rejection, and then the question of, "so, what does this mean?" if you actually do love each other. it's risky.

but, the funny thing is, I want all of these. More than anything else in my life, I want to be fearless in my love. I want to be fully God's, fully the world's, and fully someone else's.

So, my biggest goal in my life is my biggest fear. But I feel like the fear is a conquerable one. I think I work at it everyday, making it less scary. And I think that, while I am God's, I can always love more, committ more, gape in awe more. Because the thing is, so can he.

Umm. Geeze. I've been thinking about that a lot. It's kind of a crazy idea, and I love that I have a definitive answer now.

new york city

Blaring car horns wake me
in the light of a city that is always lit
but at dawn, the curves are all wrong.

when you have to look straight up to catch the sky
(unavoidable where I usually am)
it's hard to remember you're still on the ground
and beneath your feet, concrete, steel, rats, and rails,
dirt.

the native americans say that in order to speak with
the earth, and our ancestors within it,
we have to dig our feet into the grass, fingers in the dirt,
faces in the sky.
we have to live on the earth, not above it.

this bed feels wrong.

the buildings camoflage the hills that they once were
and imitate the trees,
whispers of which remember the parks.
(but it's hard to imagine it as nature
when my mind keeps returning to the rustling of the corn fields
and the music of the wind in the leaves).

when I turn over, her hips graze my side
and I'm kicked out of a dream, trying to cling to the stars of virginia,
because why are there hips in my bed?
-07/20/08

things.

hello again.

I've been thinking about lust lately. what it means, and how to avoid it. I think I've settled on defining it as treating someone else's body without respect, and outside the context of love and courage and trust that God's given to us. Which means looking away when someone is changing, or tossing them a sweatshirt when their tshirt is totally see-through. I also have been praying a lot about lust in my and josh's relationship--that if you feel something, desire to go further, move outside of those boundaries, etc, but you don't respond to it out of respect for each other and love for God, is that lust? Because the emotion is definately present, but it's controlled/subdued/extinguished/whatever by a recognization that this isn't how God meant it, and so you ignore it.

Is this okay? I'm still trying to figure it out. The best I've got is that we're broken, as sinful people, and so it's impossible for us to not feel these things that aren't all right, to not question boundaries and things like that, but it's the Spirit in us that brings us back to reality, that reminds us of the love God has for us and wants us to have for each other, but on his terms and in his time.

Does that make sense? It's starting to.

So, I look for precedent, biblical and otherwise. John Stott says, in Basic Christianity, that "it is by love that the centrifugal force of sin is counteracted, that sin divides where love unites, and sin separates where love reconciles." so, lust, then, should be divisive. it should tear down what love builds up. I don't feel that.

biblically, I think about 1thess4, which talks about controlling your body in a way that's holy and honorable, and seeing that honor and holiness in others. it says that we're not only called to be pure and holy, but that we should be "more and more" for God. So, that ties in a lot with the idea of overarching respect, and of wanting to bring your partner closer to God. It should be a mutual building up, and you should both see that in each other.

When it comes to a place where one or both of you feels like something's crossing a line, that's probably because it no longer treats the other with the respect they deserve. I dunno. I like the idea of seeing each other as a gift from God, something that's a blessing but that has to be treated with love and respect, because it is such a gift.

So, moral of story: I do understand lust. And even though I sometimes fall short, I don't think that Josh and my's relationship is lustful. Praise God for that.

third.

I open my eyes in the dark and see stars on the ceiling
not plastic, like ithaca
but glowing in the cerulean night,
innumerable, like secrets between those couples
that can eat a meal together and never say a word.

scratchy blankets, camel spiders, his steady breathing
background to the sky
(a silence so loud it drowns out my thoughts).

(It's a silence not like theirs; the stars are so loud
I've lost what to say).

And where would my hand be but wrapped among yours?

and so we experience together
(senescence in duality)
like they always warned me not to.
(if I throw caution to the win,
they said I'd get too attached.)

but on the precipice, there's no one I'd rather
stand beside.
-06/25/08

second.

You don't have to listen hard at night to hear the waterfalls.

A girl passes me on the curb,
on her way to a booty call (I'll keep her secret)
and I hear nature alone.

I picture what my mother will say when I bring her to such beauty,
crystal glass tumbling off rocks older than Jesus.
Because the water's so dirty, and it's so dangerous,
she won't swim.

My father, as always, content to observe from afar,
with a book.

My brothers, full of life (and in some cases, hormones) will wrestle each other on the rocks
(and probably get hurt, she says)
and probably get hurt, I think.

But I have no doubt that you won't let 10 minutes pass
and stay dry.
It's not in your nature to observe beauty
and not experience it.

It's really rather formulaic, you'll say later, just grab hands and do it.
They won't understand.
-6/22/08

first.

Sometimes the stars here are so bright I can taste them.
I feel your shoulders pressing into my back,
almost as if you were wearing this sweatshirt again.
But that's not the point.

The streetlights are motion sensored, but properly.
They turn off when I walk underneath;
God must know that I want to feel the stars.

And it all feels like a flashback,
scratchy grass, navy sweatshirt, bad hair
innocent desire (controlled, not extinguished).

the light flickers, and I wonder if you
ever stop and remember.
Remember how alone we were (as alone as I feel)
or how much peace there was.

Peace is tangible among people that seek it,
and in places where it is stored.
(Sometimes I think God bottles it up in nature just as a reprieve for us).

The stars are so bright they're loud; they're yelling.
I have so much more in store for you, they say.
Be patient.

(God stores patience up in nature, too. I'm convinced).
-6/22/08

sometimes I wonder how the sky got that blue
why these trees are so green
not lime, light, dark, or tinted
but so.

how someone would choose somewhere
so beautiful
to push themselves over the edge.

there aren't very many straight lines
in nature.
trees bend, rocks jag, plants curve
albeit gracefully.
the water off the falls arches
the same pattern, but different everytime.

the metal plaque with the name on it
that warns us that you died
and how
and to be safe
has only straight lines.
-6/15/08

I'm pretty sure I'll save this forever.

DAISIES OF LONDON

The still of silence wakes me at dawn.

As I try to stand, I’m bound in bed, by the weight of the summer air in
Virginia.
I try to drown out the white noise of another day at home with the silence of a
new sun,
but New York skies and Appalachia are calling my name through greens and blues;
a collision of hues so magnificent even Da Vinci would be inspired by it's
Creation.

Maybe I’ll let my mind take a slow Saturday stroll through the park.

High noon comes radiantly through the holes in a canopy of trees.
Rays of light pierce the air like bullets ripping through the barrel of a
shotgun;
The birds are awake now.
I wonder if I sound as beautiful to them as they to me.

She would know, but she’s inescapably beautiful picking her daisies.
I’ll let her be.

Hours pass away just as my ancestors did, slow and peacefully,
Until I find myself on a bus back to Heathrow.
Late, but not alone.
Stretched out on the seat, the bus begins to moan.
The windows close in around and time stands still
As if the guards at Buckingham are being changed.

Breathtaking

I’ve spent too many restless days longing for the hot
Virginia air to bind me to a stroll through the daisies of London.

6/21/08

tango instruction

in america, we hide from eye contact.
(a common recognition of a shared
humanity)

we crunch over our
laptops, newspapers, textbooks, solitude
and hope we won't be bothered
by someone asking for the time
or smiling.

over there, they recognize
more than the humanity in it.

they see an invitation,
not unlike a beggar does in the eyes of the
20 year old boy who seems interested
and buys him a sandwich.
they see loose morals, short skirts,
unbuttoned shirts in their future.

we take prodding. we don't assume. we are blunt.
"do you want to come back to my apartment?"
they are opportunistic. they infer. they hope for an opening.
"do you have the time?"
both end in sex. hopefully.

no wonder men and women separate
polar opposites, a magnet.
I step to the side to avoid
bumped shoulders, arms, hips
(contact is electric).
I avert my eyes so you can't see into my soul
(if you were wondering, it's screaming to get out).

you step forward, I step back.
-06/12/08

you say you want a revolution, well, you know... we all want to change the world.

I read a sermon the other day that the pastor began with "Thank God that he created highlighters." He then said that, "because without highlighters, how could we go through the bible and pick and choose what we want to listen to so easily and ignore the rest?"

Crazy? Yes, I suppose so. But he definately has a point. There's a lot in the bible that's hard to reconcile with our ideas of Christ and his mission both on earth and to us now that he's gone, and it's easy to focus on some things while forgetting others. For example, Leviticus 18:22 says, "you shall not lie with a male as with a female. it is an abomination." This text, along with two or three other verses, is a foundational one for many Christians that are outspoken critics of homosexuality. As the people with picket signs outside the Georgia Tech stadium on football game days have told me, "homos are going to hell!" So, it's obvious that they've highlighted that passage, and for them, that's foundational. My definition of foundational, however, is a topic or idea or rule of thumb that is absolutely quintessential and necessary for a faith, and I'd assume that it would be mentioned over and over by Christ, in an attempt to really drive the point home with his followers that "without this, there will be no new kingdom brought to earth."

By that logic, what's foundational about Christianity? Well, through a quick search on Bible Gateway.com, I can find 4 verses immediately that deal with homosexuality. I can also find 697 that mention love, 134 that reference justice, and 198 that deal with poverty and the poor.

So, maybe rather than taking justice into our own hands and condemning homosexuality, why not look at everything we've missed with our highlighters? What about love? Scandalous, impossible, rule-defying love? The kind of love that inspires hope, mends the broken, and pushes us to solve injustice with our voices, hands, and feet? Agape love, the kind that Paul challenges us to in Ephesians when he commissions men to love women as Christ so loved the church, and women to surrender our stubborn, independent wills to God for the world?

This brings me to another point. What does scandalous love really mean? if we've been commissioned to it, shouldn't we know? Because there's more to it than we originally thought. I think sometimes we forget to highlight the parts that specify what it means to agape the world, to love unconditionally like Christ did, because it's uncomfortable and shakes us in our view of a "good Christian life." Jesus said, "clothe the naked," not "donate clothes so someone else can." Jesus said, "feed the hungry," not "be sure to tithe 10% at church so someone else can." Jesus said to have active faith, and that means giving of more than our wallets--giving our time and our talents and space in our hearts to people that need it.

I'm not saying that everyone who has a guest room in their house should be giving it to a homeless person. If you're called to do that, that's awesome, but I really don't think all of us are. I do think, however, that we are all called to love, and to love actively and directly and with every bone in our body. It's easy to be active-- when you get close to the groaning of the poor, you begin to groan along with them.

All throughout the bible, there are awesome examples of people who took huge leaps for God. In Corinth, there is a church that is disgraced by paul for allowing some people to come to the table hungry while others are stuffed (1 Cor 11:21-22). Does this happen in America today? Everyday. I'd be willing to bet there are some people here, at grace, who have trouble feeding their families every week. And i think that we do an awesome job trying to help that, through the benevolent fund and the plethora of people here who, if asked, would totally come paint your walls or rewire your kitchen or help unclog a stuck bathroom drain. But not everywhere is like this, and it's a plague of today's society.

It's risky love that really makes a difference. Caring about people more than just writing a big check every week, bigger when you get a bonus at work, and feeling fulfilled. Not that that isn't helping, because it is, and it goes to allowing this church to help more and more people. But what's beautiful is what we're called to do--build a community of believers, relationships in the real world where you love people as individuals. It is about giving money. Yes. But it's also about so much more.

A Catholic bishop, Dom Helder Camara, once said, "when I fed the hungry, they called me a saint. When I asked why people are hungry, they called me a communist." This interests me on a number of different levels, but most people Bishop Camara believed and spoke out for the opinion that following Christ is as much about this world as the next. It's about change, and justice, and love for people that's so strong it forces you to desire these things. Tony Campolo, a really incredible pastor from pennsylvania, once asked a congregation, "even if there was no heaven and there was no hell, would you follow Jesus? Would you follow him for the life, joy, and fulfillment he gives you right now?" I'm not saying that anticipation of what's in store is a bad thing at all (goodness knows i'm excited for it.) but I think that Christ's message was no just to prepare us to die, but to teach us how to live. When people are hungry, we know to help feed them, because Christ taught us that, too. But, what's more, didn't Christ teach us to use our time on earth not only to feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty, but to work for justice for the poor as well? If we only think upwards and have heaven on our minds, do we then neglect the world around us until we reach that point? I don't believe that that's the truth that Christ taught.

This is the truth--that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. but there is more to it than there--there needs to be love, too. Because love is what Christ taught. Scandalous love. love for the Father and love for the world. I think a lot of us have the former. But what about the latter? Shane Claiborne has a really interesting book about all of this, and he mentions in it that "there are a lot of people speaking the truth with no love, and there are a lot of people talking about love without much truth." This can't be the state of our world. The two go hand in hand, and if we are not shouting the gospel with our lives, what are we doing?

There is a comic strip that I've heard of that has two guys talking to each other, and one of them says he has a question for God. He wants to ask God why he allows all of this poverty and war and suffering to exist in the world. And his friend says, "well, why don't you ask?" The guy shakes his head and says he's scared. when his friend asks why, he says, "I'm scared god will ask me the same question."

a and j.

my mother attracts suicidals
they follow her, flies to honey, craving
sympathy, knowing it's a disease like hunger and
needing to die like they need to eat but
hoping she can stop them.

imagine what it does to a person, long nights
spent talking down siblings, best friends,
praying for that person who looked kind of down at the gas station.
I wonder if she can spot the look now.

it's hard to sleep at night when you're wondering
whether she'll make it through the night or
whether he thinks it's worth it to get up in the morning.

my mother attracts suicidals because she has
more life and spirit in her than most,
the kind that people scoff at. the kind that lets you
appreciate rain, flowers, fifth graders,
70-year old women with blue hair.

when you're ready to risk losing it all, you admire
people that fight everyday for the best parts of it.

still in jordan.

definitive plan:

mid may - mid july -- south america tour, motocicleta-style.
mid july - mid august -- clinic in ecuador?

things sometimes just click into place. I can't wait until I get my pictures developed.


---
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you.

food for thought.

-- josh should go back to using old spice body wash, because I miss when he used to smell like this sweatshirt does.

--catherine asked me if I was involved with young life with josh. and the thing is, I'd kind of like to be, in a way, and not only because it makes him happy. I realized tonight, when I made plans to get coffee with two high school juniors and one freshman, that I like hanging out with high school girls. it makes me feel like I can offer something useful when they ask me questions, and it teaches me a lot about inhibition, and how to do away with it.

so, what does that mean? this is his thing, you know. and he loves it. and I don't know if it's fair to ask if I can come. because it can't really be every so often. it needs to be, like, weekly, or it's pointless. and not only am I afraid to commit, I'm afraid to get in on his thing.

pbbbt.

--this culture is so implicit. implicit meaning in "she misses being able to hang out alone with boys"? "I want to have sex with the taxi driver." gaah.

--paramore is so angry girl music.

--I need to learn to belly dance.

reflections from 4 in the morning just before my roommate leaves.

--T-minus 30 hours until I leave for jordan. Weird? Mhm.

--My room is lonely with nothing in it. And I'm going to be even more lonely tomorrow.

--I miss being here already. But I really wish I was going home.

--I'm excited about Jordan, too.

--I miss Josh.

--I am not really this sad and pathetic. : )

this reminds me of being catholic.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

something that made me actually stop moving.

josh gave me a "hope this helps you get through finals" pack. it was a mix cd (with the track list written on a beach ball [deflated, por supuesto]), a pair of his sweatpants that I wear a lot, and a pack of gum. I opened the gum, and there was a note inside.

"Emily:
Hey you. I think that you should enjoy this pack of gum. Each piece has something to tell you. I like you because...
-JT"

So, basically, I melted. I don't usually account full detailed stories like this, but I've reread these like six or seven times. They give me hope about finals and they make me smile in general.

I like that you want the world to be made right again and think it can be.
I like that you save cats when they are alone, pick up trash when it is on the ground, and open your eyes to the world around.
I like that you want to do something that no one else is willing or capable of doing.
I like that you stop to pick flowers whenever and wherever you are.
i like your name... all of it.
I like that you want to know.
I like that you will fix my roommate and I a steak even though it revolts you (I mean you did get apple pie out of it...)
I like that you make me want to brush my teeth, but make me feel like I don't have to.
I like that you understand the value of giving and the scale at which it is most appreciated (peanut butter cookies and windmills).
I like that you have shaped my life (even to the point that I now write "I like" before each of these clauses).
I like that you no only know what to say, but how and when to say it.

for the homeless man on the corner of candler park blvd, that he might use poetry as a blanket for sleeping on the street.

I really like patrick rosal.
---
sometimes when I read Rosal
on the bus
we drive past homeless men,
yellowed fingers gripping cigarettes, puffing
defiantly at you
(or maybe just smoking)
and unafraid to hold my gaze through
the tinted windows
of the bus.

in the midst of so much beauty,
swept up in electric verse
youforgetsocialnorms
and don't look away.

we tint bus windows for equal anonymity
because I'm too poor to own a car
and you're too poor to ride the bus
(is it always us verses them?)

we look straight ahead and pretend
that no one's watching
or we watch out the windows, protected by
tinted glass
and think he can't
see me looking.

poetry throws into harsh light
my lack of human contact, just like his and
I'm not yelling at him,
but whispering beauty silently to myself
and I'm hoping he'll look back
and that he might have read Rosal.
-4/25/08

cleavage

what makes a woman?
is it her eyes nose mouth hair
(movie stars care about
what's real, don't (aren't) they?)
or is it her uterus, ovaries, breasts?

when there are two lines where your breasts
should be
and a scar on your stomach where
they took your uterus (and an ovary too, for good measure),
are you still a woman?

what if you lose all your hair and
they had to take out both ovaries, too, but neither
is working
or stopping
it?

cancer leaves a bad taste in one's mouth.

is a woman a presence:
a mother, sister, daughter, friend
or is she something you cry over
someone rubbing your back and murmuring
it'll be okay (noitwon'tnoitwon'tnoitwon't).

does being scared that you're
no longer a woman
make you one?

or is it being courageous,
buying bathing suits with
prosthetic
cups, and giving tight hugs that reveal just how
bony (flat)
you are?

"I am a woman, and these are where my breasts used to be."
--20 april 2008

so, God, here's a couple of things that are twirling around inside of me.

first, kyle. god, please be with him right now. I know that he's struggling and I know that senior year is especially scary, particularly when you don't know what you're doing next year. Lord, just help him to realize that you want him to pursue you with his life just as badly as he wants to, but that he needs determination and drive and passion to do it, and he can't settle for anything less than his best. I know he has it, God, he just needs to throw it out there unashamedly. And lord, bless josh for his role in that whole thing, particularly mediating it, and help him to realize that he is such a strong voice for you in kyle's life. it's incredible to me how he can be both a friend and a voice of reason that's older and wiser. it's really, really beautiful, god, and I know that kyle needs it so badly. thank you for giving him josh. thank you for teaching josh how to love like you love.

god, for the boys at chi phi right now (or whichever frat that is), keep them safe. they're being really loud, and I'm a little worried for them. keep them safe, okay?

thank you for noor. and for the people that came to qur'an bible tonight. god, help me to increase those numbers exponentially. lord, with you, all things are possible. please help that to carry over into fall.

thank you for rylee. please help keep teaching me how to be a friend to her when she's stressed and its' the end of the year. keep us close.

god, thank you so much for josh. but thank you for your role in it; in everything. It astounds me how incredibly central you are to his life, and how central I try to keep you to my own, and I love that he is a model for me in that. God, thanks for letting me help him when he needs helped and for teaching me how to let him in when I need it. thank you for the fact that he "spot-checks" me every 20 seconds, and that we both have that weird, "look at the crowd and see most strongly the person who makes you so happy."

god, thank you for how incredibly happy he makes me. thanks for late night rock band with 30 year olds that he admires, and for the field next to the Laird Barn, and for how my heart beats faster when I come around the corner and see him walking toward me. thanks for how this jacket smells and for how it instantly brings me back to him.

thank you that he likes me.

God, he really needs you this week, and especially this summer. bless his studies, Lord, like only you can. help him (and me in the same vein) to learn to rely on your for everything, even school, which the world conditions us to think we can do alone. we can't. Help whatever he studies to multiply over and over and help him to see beyond it to the future.

Thanks, father, that his future is so incredibly bright.

His successes are not my failures.

thank you for teach for america, and help me to learn to support him in everything, not just in a program that might lead him to atlanta. would that be great? sure. but that's not a necessity. because the thing is, if it's meant to be, you'll let it be the way it's supposed to. and I trust you implicitly, I just need to learn to jump.

god, help me to leap. soon'd be great. help me to rely on you so fully it overflows. about classes, about finals, about josh, about the future, about jordan.

with hope. god, your hope is incredible. your hope is the confident expectation of a coming good and an anchor for my soul.

I trust you, Lord. Help me to see what in my life is unfavourable, and how to cut it out. lord, if any aspect of josh and my relationship is unfavourable and dirty, lord, please show me how to stop it so that I may and we can progress on together towards infinity.

solamente contigo.

last night, josh took me to a club meeting for a division of young life called capernaum. it's basically young life, but for kids with disabilities. it was, honestly, one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. like... it was dancing and watching high school kids with down's and autism and probably a bunch of different things singing along to open mike night and dancing around in a circle and... it was ridiculously fun. and at the end, there was a message, which andy, the leader, gave. And he looked at a couple of the kids and said, josh, did you know that you're fearfully and wonderfully made? and stephanie, did you know that you're made in God's image?

and she looked at him and said, "really?"

and I realized that this is where God is. and I am absolutely in love with what He does, and who he loves.

please remember me happily, by the rosebush laughing with bruises on my chin

I realized tonight at church just how happy I am. And it's great. Finals are coming, sure, but I'm being productive and getting a lot done, especially tonight, and I refuse to be worried.

And that's great. You know? As is the fact that everything is better with Rylee (things were kind of shaky and weird for a while. But I love that they aren't anymore.) and that Laurie's sister and parents came to visit, and... everything.

Last night josh and I were just laying in the dark talking for, like, two hours, and he asked me to tell him something interesting. So, I told him that bumblebees are physically too large to fly on such small wings and they defy the laws of physics, and ostriches have the world's largest eggs... and that I think I'm falling in love with him.

which feels kind of like trying not to throw up. Not the falling in love part, but the telling him part.

he smiled widely and laid his head on my chest and whispered that he thought his heart skipped a beat. which helped with the trying-not-to-hurl feeling.

I'm not really sure why I'm writing this down. it's funny, because it's so visible in my head it's almost like I could transport myself back there, tout de suite. but I know it won't be in a month or so. or maybe it will. who knows. but it's not worth the risk, because it was beautiful and terrifying and almost like loving him. which I hope I'll figure out how to do soon.

anyway, I have faith. in a lot of things right now.

hope is the expectation of a coming good and an anchor for our souls.

shalom isn't the absence of something, but the presence of something waiting.

happy almost passover.

I really like the name Raphael for a kid. I guess it's a boys name. I just think Rafi is an adorable nickname.

I still like Aureliano, but tagging a kid with Raphael Aureliano is too much, I think. -grins-

And Purselane. It's a flower, but I like it.

(text message conversation)

emily: so, by the way, thanks for having an opinion on my sweater tonight. I know that sounds silly, but it surprised me that you cared and it helped. if only because I can't make decisions.

josh: haha, well, I feel like my opinion is slightly biased and could mislead you, because I also think your hair looks best at 730 when my alarm goes off.

----

that made me smile more than anything else today. and today was a really good day. : )

I feel like moving to the rhythm of your grace

tonight I sat outside with God and just talked. We have a lot of conversations like that, and I love it. It's like, very stream of consciousness, and he kind of inserts answers by having me talk around something a lot of times. And it's beautiful. Or, it is to me, anyway.

I love that no one answered their phones because we needed to have this time.

So, basically, I realized that whatever grade I get in organic chemistry doesn't matter in the way I think it does. Because the thing is, God's kept this passion alive in my heart about my future and made it an unreconcileable reality to me. Which means that he's going to get me into med school, because I honestly believe that's his will, and he's going to do it with an A- or a B. Because God is a heck of a lot of a bigger deal than silly grades. So I need to stop beating myself up about tomorrow, and not go into the room seconds away from throwing up, but rather, recognize how wonderful he is to me, and go up to the folder with a smile and a song and the knowledge that I did my best and he's holding my hand.

I can do this, you know. I really can. Even if it means not being as good of a student as I was in high school. I'm trying just as hard. And if I'm not in Phi Eta Sigma, or whatever, that's fine. Because I'm going to get where I need to be and God's going to show me how to get there.

I've also been thinking a lot about Josh and my relationship. I feel like it really deepened a lot sunday night, after church, when we went out onto the benches to pray. I do need to go to Jordan. I realize that now. It terrifies me, but it's true.

I just sent the email to jeff, the guy from church organizing it, and told him that I'm going. I'm getting over my fears of inadequacy and just going. Abandon and all. Recklessly.

But back to Josh. I told him part of it, but basically, he talks about joining the peace corps before grad school for two years, and it scares me just because I realize that I could still be committed to this then. Very possibly. And he graduates in basically a year. Which is... not a lot of time.

But you know what I realized tonight? I realized that if this is God's plan for Josh, and part of that plan is me staying in his life, it's going to be an incredible ride for both of us, but it'll happen. Right now, I feel his hand really, really strongly in this relationship, and I love feeling like I'm growing closer to Josh and together we're growing closer to God. It's beautiful, and it's doable, and it's what I have and want, right now. In terms of what'll happen if he joins the peace corps, well, that's for the future to worry about. When it gets here, if it's right, it'll happen.

I'm starting to believe that about my future, too. That there are ways to get it to work out, and that when I graduate from med school and finish my residency, I'm going to pack up and go and if I'm with someone and they're right for it, they'll come with me. It's a give and take, yes, and this is a calling, and there's a way to reconcile the two.

Hope is the confident expectation of a coming good, and an anchor for our souls.

Thank heavens for that.

I miss the still of the silence as you breathe out and I breathe in

So, my aunt jamie sent me an incredible email. As did marissa. And I love that I got them both on the same day at the same time and read one after the other slowly, and without stopping, and it was like eating a huge piece of angel food cake. Really, really wonderful, basically.

And I've rerealized, or perhaps even better than the first time, how much beauty is in the world. And how much I love these two people.

Jamie added a ps email that she sent afterwards:

Marriage, the good side:

I’m married to my best friend.
We laugh all the time.
It’s us against the world, every day.
We think the same thoughts so often it’s scary.
We have 25 years of shared experiences and memories, most of them sweet.
Each is the first person the other turns to when something good or bad happens.
We ask each other for advice constantly, really listen and consider it, and then have complete freedom to ignore it without anyone’s feelings getting hurt.
He still takes my breath away when I see him in a crowd.
Each of us knows the other is doing the best we can on any given day.
I can tell him the ugliest things about me and he doesn’t judge me...he just prefers to concentrate on the good stuff.
When one of us is wrong and behaves ungraciously, selfishly or outrageously, we own up to it and apologize.
We forgive, and forgive, and forgive...and forget.
We understand the importance of leaving the past in the past.
We both know how lucky we are.

---
And I was thinking about that a lot last night. Last night Josh and I actually went out on a date, which was really funny because it was totally not something we really do very often. And from him setting off his car alarm on purpose while I waited in it, and my spilling sweet and sour sauce all over my skirt and his car, and our almost getting locked out on the roof of the movie theatre when we took a different route out, and then watching the KU/UNC game with a heap of his friends... I realized that most of my memories are sweet, too. In fact, almost all of them are. And the ones that aren't can be, if you look at them in the right context.

He's very seriously considering the peace corps for two years after he graduates, before grad school. And that's incredible, and would probably be an unforgettable experience for him. Is it bad that when he talks about it, I love the idea of it, but at the same time, my heart hurts? It shouldn't, right? I mean, that's a while from now. It's just that I don't feel like this is very short term. And that's strange, I know, and very high school of me. But it's true.

He wrote a song about part of my aunt jamie's email. I forwarded the email to him, and she said the following:

"I say that marriage has got to be an “eyes wide open” commitment — one you make knowing that the person you marry:

• is imperfect,

• will make choices you don’t agree with,

• will go through emotional/spiritual challenges they may choose to exclude you from (such as the death of someone they love, or the loss of a job or dream), and

• quite possibly will change in ways that you’re not going to like and can’t control. "

He played it for me last night. I think it was called "eyes wide open," and it was really, really honest. kind of painful, but real. which is kind of the point, I think. he totally didn't want to. and he was mortified and nearly walked out of the room afterward without looking at me. it means more to me than he realizes that he stayed and turned around.

so. so so so.

so, last night I cried on the floor of my best friend's dorm hallway for roughly 30 minutes. mostly for the fact that love isn't perfect, and that people can live lives that seem great and be dying on the inside. that two people who've always served as an example to me of how it is possible to have a career and a marriage and be happy in both, of how I can be a doctor and still have a life and kids and a family, just completely destroyed that ideal. and whether marriage is actually forever; if you can actually be in love forever.

I've been thinking about it a lot today. Whether it's possible to be 80 and still in love, even though the definition of love changes. that's fine. sure, you don't want to be in love the same way when you're 20 and when you're 80. but whether you can be in love, not just mutually find each other tolerable and comfortable.

and then after church, josh sent me 1 corinthians 13 and told me to read the whole thing, not just the oft-quoted 4th verse. and so I did.

and I realized that love is perfect. that love is wonderful and incredible and perfect, and that sometimes we don't have it when we think we do, and not in the right form.

how we find the right form I haven't figured out yet. but I know that it's out there. and I want to believe you can keep it forever.

some people do, anyway. and that's what I want to have. like neruda does, in XVII.

topsy-turvy

my aunt carol walked out on my uncle joe this morning. like, he came back from a run or something and she had her bags packed and told him she was leaving. that it wasn't another guy, but that she was just unhappy, and after 25 years, apparently it had come to fruition.

how does this make any sense? you know? they were always the couple that my parents would use as examples of how it was possible to go to med school and be a doctor and still have a spouse and a family, that you just had to find someone with some of their own interests and who wouldn't wait around. apparently carol took that to the extreme.

it's not okay. marriage is for effing forever.

what the hell.

-closes eyes-

hey ya, hey ya

I have a habit of picking little flowers that I find pretty and giving them to people around me.

It's funny how people pick up on things you don't even realize you do. But he likes that, he said.

Come, Come Whoever You Are

Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow

a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come.
-Rumi

I think it is legitimately possible that I'm falling in love.

That is terrifying to write out.

so I tickle up your backbone.

I love the way Jenn Grant says "tickle" in the song "Dreamer." It just makes me really happy.

This week has been crazy already, but the thing is, I'm getting everything done, and I love that. I love that I feel rejuvenated when I go to prayer, and that I spent time today looking at med schools.

Did you know you only get the first summer off? Neither did I. Weird. It makes me realize how little of a life I'm going to have, and how much I'm going to value those christmases. And... I dunno. For some reason, and it's probably Nicole and how she and Tom are figuring out when and how they're going to schedule getting married and having babies into her residency, my first thought was "when could I get married?"

weird, hmm?

maybe I'm amazed.

so, here's the thing. I really, really still like you all. Really, I do. but I'm only here for... sunday evening-thursday morning. Like, four days. And I came home to be with my family, whom I really, really wanted to spend time with because I miss(ed) them a lot. So how is it okay to get super upset with me for not calling you, not hanging out, etc, when I was only here for FOUR DAYS, which is basically half of what you are, and those days are really intended for my family?

Gah. It's frustrating because, well, I feel like they've become my priority, not my friends. Sure, there are a choice few, but when it comes down to reading for Joe's 5th grade class or visiting Grandma Aud, I'm going to go with my surrogate grandmother over splash lagoon.

I'm sorry if that's awful. I don't mean it to be. But there have to be priorities. And I get that ours aren't equal. It's not fair to gang up on me over it.

beauty.

I realized today that I am incredibly blessed. That yeah, sure, school is hard right now. But it's going to get better. Life moves on.

I think what I needed was perspective.

I also think that, quite possibly, one of the most beautiful things I've ever witnessed was the look on Josh's face on saturday night in the dark. I didn't have my contacts in and couldn't quite see him, but I caught, albeit blurrily, the look in his eyes when he held my stare and said "I was just thinking that I never want to make you feel dirty."

Wow. I immediately flashed back to a prayer for that, one time. For someone who'd say stop when I didn't. For someone who'd value my modesty.

Josh said that he heard once, from his pastor, I think, that you should treat your girlfriend as you would want someone to treat your wife, because you recognize that she will be someone's wife, too, eventually, and they'll appreciate you having respected her. That floored me.

People surprise you, I think. I love it when God answers prayer with a chuckle. -grins-

POSSIBLE SCHEDULE

photography
Tues 1-4pm

biochem
MWF 12:50-1:40

human phys
MWF 8:30-9:20

physics
10:40-11:30 MWF

spanish 450S
hot and cold

she said we were a sweet couple, once.

Sometimes my head is like a slideshow.
When you least expect it
suddenly you're back in the backseat of the minivan
trying desperately to keep your clothes on,
looking up at the ceiling and grimacing.
Or driving home from church sobbing
and pulling over so you don't crash
wondering if you're still fit to sing
about God's wonder and beauty.
Is it sacreligious if that comes out of the mouth of
someone so broken?

The tears in your eyes
and the way your gripped my hand
indicate that you felt the same.

Sometimes what scarred us makes us more beautiful.
I think we've both always hoped so.

It must be hard to be God,
watching us make these mistakes, wishing we wouldn't
and knowing all the while that tomorrow morning, next week, two years from now
we'd still be haunted by the choice, the pictures,
the feeling of fake leather under our backs, clothes discarded.
-3/10/08

faith means seeing God as more real than anything I've ever encountered.

when are you a man?
is it when you can form chairs out of wood,
lift 200 lbs,
or cry with racking sobs, head in
your hands, face
to the ground?

are high schoolers men?

what you think
separates you now
will some day let you relate to
the 17 year old boy, falling to his knees
gun in his hands,
the 17 year old girl, waking up dirty and
standing under a scalding shower
to burn away the shame and the filth,
the 16 year old boy,
who can't keep hating himself,
and the 13 year old girl who
wanted her pants left on.

(Sometimes I drive by the Jewish cemetery and wonder
what it must be like to
still be in the ground.
Al término, paz.)

You'll grow up but you won't
lose the pictures in your head that
hurt to see; the shower faucet, her pants on the floor,
the silent dinner conversations that never made you
feel loved. (Do you now?)

How long until loving won't hurt?
How long until you'll stop seeing hand prints all over your body
when you stare naked in the mirror?
How long until God forgives?

When does the saving grace kick in?
Am I still eligible?
-3/10/08

thank you thank you thank you.

on so many levels.

She needed this, God. She so needed it. She needed Lindsay to call her, to start to remedy their relationship and the hell that Lindsay's going through. And she asked for it especially when we prayed last night. That Lindsay would call her today.

And she did.

ahh, thank you. really. thank you for coming through even in the most unlikely of situations. thank you for eternally blessing me just by association with you both. I'm so incredibly happy.

also, thanks for josh. lead that where you want to, Lord, and help me not to get too attached. It's weird how quickly I'm falling, God, and I don't want that to hurt me. It might. Legitimately. But please have mercy on that, okay? Just bless the whole thing. I'm blessed to be a part of it.

love.

wrap me up; enfold me

I really want a polaroid. So badly. I've had this art project in my head for days. Two, actually. One of a set of polaroids of someone jumping, one of face, one of body, and one of legs. I think it'll be neat.

Also. A more long-term idea is a nude shot of two people framed against the atlanta skyline, possibly taken from a roof? Atwood, or Math/Sci? The nice thing about Atwood is that it takes a while to wind around it and find people, should I take it from here. Definately would be at night. I can see it in my head.

I'm really happy right now. This week was hell. Laur's little sister getting diagnosed with cancer, failing an orgo test, taking a bio test... it was just a lot. And I'm glad it's over with.

poem later.

"We make the world in which we live. So far we've made it a racist world. But surely such a world is not worthy of man as we dream of him and want him to be."
-Richard Wright, "White Man, Listen!"

"This is not the world. Thus have we made the world."
-The Mission

I think I'm still trying to find my way. My passions. My focuses, mostly. It's easy to have passions, but it's much harder to condense them down into what you really want to do and go from there.

I love rylee, laurie, and jenny. so much.

but I'm worried about lindsey. laur's sister. prayer?

love. love and prayer.

Un novio? Que extraño.

"Love Poem"

Love Poem

My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing

Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.

Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror,
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
Yet leaping before apopleptic streetcars—
Misfit in any space. And never on time.

A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease;
In traffic of wit expertly maneuver
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.

Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
So gaily in love's unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.

Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses—
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break.


Anonymous submission.

John Frederick Nims

priorities

"we spend too much time worrying about what important people think, when we should be worrying about what people who think we're important think."

God is so good.

I told Josh tonight that during the sermon, I was thinking about what the pastor was saying about brokenness, and how this world is so broken, but some day it will be returned to perfect and "exceedingly good" once again. And I was reflecting on my own life, and how there are a lot of aspects that are definately broken and weigh on me, and a lot that are exceeding good. And Josh makes me feel less broken, which we all are, but is overcome-able.

Not very like me to tell someone that. More like me to think about it and say nothing.

Once you commit yourself by letting them know, you no longer hold the reigns. You're on level footing, and you've fallen, and now there's that fear that they won't. It's kind of terrifying.

But it's part of the beauty.

I love Neruda's XVII.

happiness.

there's a lot of it in the world. I know there is. but I'm getting kind of sick of watching these movies that just suck it out of me. se7en, requiem for a dream, the cell.

last night was a brief reprieve from that. we cooked at jenny's. and it was just nice because we didn't have to think about all of the crap going on. We could just cook (spring rolls, curry, etc.) and be happy and... it was great.

I left requiem for a dream in this haze that's hard to explain. this haze that said that life is horrible. that no one can escape just how bad it is. the look in jennifer connoly's eyes as the movie ended was haunting. it's what I always imagined hell would be like, and everyone's hell in that movie is just as bad as everyone else's... but her look was so terrified, so helpless, so "given-up," that it stuck with me. it made me want to leave and pray and lie under the stars, and just soak in the good of the world.

there's so much beauty here. just don't tune it out.

making the first move (breakdown)

30% of the first move is the intention.
23.4% is that tug in your heart
that says you really mean it this time.
5% is the voice in your head that says not to, not yet.
the fear he won't fall winning over.
8% beats the 5, telling you that he wouldn't have held
your glance for that long without meaning
something, right?
10% is doubt.
11.6% is when your heart skips a beat
as you lean over so that your cheeks so nearly touch
it's painful (4.15% is that heat between your cheeks
in the air that is very nearly not-air).
6.85% is that last breath you take
before he takes the last 1% of initiative
and touches your lips with his

and suddenly, the world is silent.
and percentages fade away.
and complete sentences drop into pieces.
and you're so glad, at the end
that he took the 1%

because he thinks he did it all
and you can't believe how long you waited.

what breaks your heart?

So, a couple of good points from church tonight that I want to fully work out in my head.

1) "A love for God is married to a love for people. When you divorce the two, you end up with zealots bombing temples and people doing mercy killings and a whole lot of hatred. It just doesn't make sense."

2) So, there are seven words in the bible for "praise." Hallal, which means to be "clamourously foolish," Yadah, which means "to extend the hand" and physically extoll the name of God, Shabbat, which means to "shout" for Jesus. Gil, which means to "dance and twirl around" with God, Taudah, which means to "give thanks for what God has done and what we think he will do," and Barach, to "recognize that God is the origin of success and blessing." There's a seventh one, but I forget it.

Point of all of this is that praise is so incredibly unburdened, undignified, about raising our hands up and dancing around and not shutting up and closing our eyes. That what I have a habit of doing. Not that it's less meaningful, but it's just... it's not what was meant by praise. And the thing is, there really is an internal (spiritual, I guess. I'm not really well versed in it yet) release when you throw up both hands and just say, "you know, God. I'm not here to win over the cute guy three rows behind me. because whatever. I'm here for you, and you don't care about any of this." It's always been hard for me, since I spent high school as that girl who criticized a lot of things. When you're critical, you cut your feet right out from under yourself. You give yourself nothing to grow in that's good; just a lot of things that you don't want that you hate.

Rylee told me today that Jack and I would never have worked out (for a myriad of other reasons, however) because he's really cynical, and really critical, and I'm really not. I kind of rallied to that later tonight, after that sermon. I'm really glad I've grown up past that point. Because when you're there, you feel like you're as grown up as you could ever be. And then you look back and laugh at yourself.

Also, I'm still totally hung up on this line. "The Greek word for worship is to turn and kiss. You can't talk when you kiss, so how can you talk when you're really worshiping?" Ahh. He's so incredibly right and this is so unbelieveably beautiful to me that it kills me. Like, the concept of a really, really deep and prayerful and "to the heart of the issue," facedown-sort of worship session is, really, more intimate than a kiss. Funny, because I can only just barely understand that. I recognize that, of the four (is it four? geeze.) guys I've kissed, I've never been as close with any of them, or even bordering on it, that I've been with God. And thank the Lord for that, because geeze, two of them definately turned out to be losers.

But, you know? Really praying? It's like kissing God. It's like getting your cheeks so close to each other without touching that you can feel the other person's face so strongly you can't take it. It's the "come close" feeling. Extravagant worship, extreme love. If I could highlight that second bit, I would. But I think this is sans boldface. Damn.

3) I haven't read the gospels in a while. Like, a couple of months. So when we flipped to Luke 7, this note (one of many) fell out onto my lap. It had this (and other stuff) written on it, "I believe in the God of miracles. However God breaks your heart, I believe he sends a message of love and peace, hope and life. Do you know how your heart breaks?"

I haven't seen this in a while, but the underlined bit, "do you know how your heart breaks," really jumped out at me like a knife. Because I'm one of those people whose heart breaks for a lot of things and a lot of causes and, mostly, for a lot of people, but this just made it so painfully obvious. What the hell am I doing? If my heart breaks, why am I not doing something? That happens for a reason. Pity is not without reason.

I am in love with Jesus. So much so that I want to go outside and sing and dance around.

Thanks God for refilling me and bringing me back home. I feel like I get in this cycle of not being as attuned to you one day, and then a little more the next, until suddenly, I feel like I'm in PA and you're in India.

Thanks for always being closer than my skin.

it's not like being fake, but rather,
you have an outward appearance that is as much a part of you
as the inside, but entirely different
and much easier to get to know.

it's like your cigarillos, que a ti te gustan tan mucho
and the (somewhat illegal) smoke that gets in my
eyes, hands, hair, shirt, scarf, neck
so that later, when I put my arms around myself
they smell like you want to smell.

but when you move in closer
for a hug, a grope, a punch in the face
[any emotion that's real involves a breach of personal space]
only then can you detect the slightest
smell of orange Dial soap, hidden but still present,
lingering despite your best efforts.

nous avons fait l'amour aveugle, mais,
it can still smell better than most.

(you'd've said yes, and then where would we be?)

soneto xvii

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.
-pablo neruda