insomnia eureka

While lying awake in the still of the night, the idea of arranged marriages suddenly popped into my head.  I recalled how, over the years, a certain person in my life has, from time to time, spoken favorably about the benefits of a custom used for centuries in many countries of the world, that of arranged marriages.   (made me wanna slap this person, but that wouldn't do any good, it was too late. just made me sad. very sad.)

Wikipedia's definition:

Arranged marriage is a type of marital union where the bride and groom are selected by a third party rather than by each other.^[1]It was common worldwide until the 18th century.^[1] In more recent times, arranged marriage is common in South Asia, Africa,^[2][3] theMiddle East,^[4][5] Latin America,^[3][6] Southeast Asia^[7] and parts of East Asia;^[8][9] elsewhere in developed countries, arranged marriage has continued in some royal families,^[10] parts of Japan,^[11] among immigrant and minority ethnic groups.^[12]   

and from Psychology Today:

In Western cultures, the choice of a spouse is up to the individual. We have institutions like dating that give young people a chance to accumulate relevant experience over a number of years, so that they can make an informed decision. In a way, dating offers the kind of experience with intimate relationships that summer jobs, externships, and volunteer work provide for youth in making career decisions

• 
  

In traditional societies, parents or other designated individuals choose a person's spouse (and occupation). These are sometimes called arranged marriages, in contrast to love marriages, though there are many varieties of each. A common rationale for arranged marriages is that young people are too immature and impulsive to make a wise choice, and experienced elders are likely to do better. In addition, in the West one chooses a partner to fulfill oneself, while in non-Western collectivist cultures, one's primary responsibility is to the group-to one's parents, kin group, ancestors, and others--all of whom have contributed to make one's current life possible and to whom one is obligated.

and some insight from the website Quora:

"We can never really know if arranged marriages work. One, because people, understandably so, find it hard to admit that outsourcing what was possibly the biggest decision in their lives turned out to be a disaster. I have never come across many men or women in their 40s to 50s who would readily admit that they have spent decades with someone they couldn't find love for. Add to that the exhausting inertia one feels after having expended a tremendous amount of energy in trying to find some beauty in a loveless bond, day after day. A lot of people just stick with it because it's tiring to even think of a solution in light of the deluge of family disapproval they'll be faced with. In light of how they feel, it's just too late. To an outsider, they might have just celebrated a silver jubilee, and to them, it could be the 25 years they lost."

I'm not from India, I was not set up by my parents, in fact i think i purposely tried to shock them by rebelling and choosing something totally opposite what they might expect of me....(isn't it ironic?)  but the situation discussed above sounds just too, hauntingly familiar.   

Another quote from another article: this Indian couple met for 20 minutes in her parent's home; the next day they were engaged.   Many years later, she reflects:

"But the losses are significant, and Alex and I still grieve them. On the rare occasions when we talk about this, we express sadness on each other's behalf: "I wish you had married a best friend." "I wish you'd found a spouse who excites you more." "I wish delight would replace acceptance."  To arrange a life, after all, is to control it."  

My advice to the youngens out there, those lucky ones still cruising the dating scene:   Do this one thing, and you will be happy:  "Follow your heart, not the checklist."

Yes, there are certain qualities, such as spiritual beliefs and similar viewpoints in raising a family, which you need to listen to.  But once you've figured that out, and you've got yourself aligned with God's Spirit in making choices that sit well with that spirit in you, that "knowing" that you can live with your choices and still have that close communion with the Lord in your most intimate moments of worship with Him...then go with your heart.  It's not a sinful, emotional decision, the way some people will brush off the term "follow your heart".  A God-loving heart is not the same as a flesh-pleasing heart.  Where is your heart?  And not just a God-pleasing heart, for a heart that just works and works to "please" God will never be satisfied, for we are by nature sinful and cannot do diddly-squat to earn His favor.  A God-LOVING heart is also intoxicated by the intimate knowledge of how madly in love with you GOD is, and cannot possibly believe that He would want you to choose anything less than His best for you. Believe in the treasure that you are, the treasure God believes you are, and wait, yes, WAIT.  God is good. 

And if you're already in your 30's, your prospects of marrying and having kids is looking lower and lower every day, do NOT, do NOT, do NOT lower your standards, your measure of "heartness" to match the lowness of your expectations.  that is so wrong.  You'd be better off enjoying your freedom and your continued pursuit of God as an individual, which is really where true bliss is at, anyway.  (If you make the mistake of choosing wrongly, you may later want to aspire to that same spiritual oneness with the Lord, but feel dragged down by this unequal half of you that was artificially bonded to you; being unequally yoked is a horrible thing, a living hell, masked , hidden below the surface of an otherwise comfortable, mildly pleasant lifestyle.)

 Then one day, when your heart feels overwhelmed by the perfectness of God leading you to the perfect choice of a mate that is by no means "settling", when it's not just a security slot to drop into to avoid the misery of a life not yet fulfilled by finding God's purpose in it, when you find that perfect spot, then go for it.  Follow your heart.  Never ever settle.  

That's my advice for the day.  (don't ask me how i know)

bedtime

so thankful for this job.
happy to be here
hiding my heart behind this green apron
grinding away my thoughts with the coffee beans.
happy to be avoiding awkward moments at home
though i miss my kids
miss putting them to bed,
saying our prayers,
kissing them goodnight.
like one day i'll be on my death bed,
saying,
yep, i'm glad i missed out on my children's bedtimes
so i could avoid being there.
then i'll die.

Titanic

Listening to old, old Christian music, old favorites like Rich Mullins, Amy Grant, Michael W. Smith. the songs i loved when i first came to know the Lord, when the sky seemed to suddenly break open wide with the hugeness of infinite possibilities for my young life.  Back when I thought there was really a God who cared enough to one day send that special person that would make my heart sing with such joy, i would just know he was the one.  Not one i'd have to fight my doubts, my instant hunches and sense of settling, to go against the grain of my intuition and instead close my eyes, check off the needs, not wants, on my list, thinking that was the godly thing to do, and jump into my sealed fate.  Those were sweet days of innocence, when I truly believed God knew and would give me the very desire of My heart, not just everyone else's, those who lived with open honest hearts, not afraid to say NO to the things that clearly were good things but not God's BEST for them.  silly me.  i should've remembered, i do not belong in that class of people.  i'm like the working class passengers of the Titanic.  Give the more important people the lifeboats, the journey to a happier place, and leave the rats like me in this ship to sink and drown.

Happy day

so today i share a piece of history with Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt.  same day, same year.  interesting.

not sure how to feel.  got this gift this morning, a huge blown-up image of me & the kids playing in the waves in Puerto Rico.  nice. no cards or words or hugs and of course we don't even mention the "A" word around here.  just another day and hey look, a new photo for the wall.

 still not sure how to feel.  just numb. 

nothing phases me anymore.  shoot me down, but i won't fall. i am titanium.

mock me to my face. i may feel sad. but i won't fall. i may shed a tear, but i won't get mad. i'm over that.  this is my lot in life. my sentence.

no more pretending.

i'm happy to be enjoying my status of singleness. really. i don't care what my driver's license or FB "status" says i am.  it's like in those other countries where they have pre-arranged marriages, for the sake of continuing the family line. for convenience.  yes, i can be at peace about making a decision that allowed me to be a mother and brought on a more convenient, comfortable lifestyle. 

 kids will change you. not status.  kids are great.  best thing in the world. but those fairy tales about actually feeling something warm & gushy for the person you sign this contract with, that's just stupid.  to actually want to enter into the same personal space as this person for anything other than continuing the human race? ew. that just doesn't happen in the planet i'm from.  

It's not as if things are much better on this planet, either.  take last night's bachelorette episode, for example.  i confess i didn't watch it, just heard a clip of it on a morning show today, where Nick says to Andi, "If you weren't in love with me, I'm just not sure why you made love with me."

or, insert other phrases, like why you...pretended to like me and continued going out with me because you were afraid and didn't want to hurt my feelings and just wanted the security, and even married me...when you weren't in love with me." Which is worse?  it's sin. dishonesty, selfishness, not trusting God due to your insecurities and fear for the future, stuff that God never meant for us to use as a reason to get hitched, yanking someone's heart around and slamming it into the dirt. but i'm done condemning myself for that sin, i think, and just trying to find my peace in living an honest life. numb, yes. but honest.

so i'll enjoy being numb. just learning to protect myself. disconnecting and going unplugged a lot more these days.  just like the tv's "mute" button, there is a huge amount of relief and peace of mind in the buttons "unfollow" and "delete list". yes, i am learning this wonderful piece of wisdom:  whenever i feel myself feeling sad, jealous, judged or judging, or thinking that me and  my kids are somehow less special because of those people out there with 50 million friends who get 50 million likes for their kids... that's when i decide it's  just not worth it. this social media thing. and i shut it all off. ahhhh. so much better.  i can use this blog for my own personal expression, but i don't need to join in the rat race of fake friendships and digitally created popularities. 

just enjoying my happy little quiet bubble of numbness.

happy day.

back in the bird cage

I love this poem by the late Maya Angelou,

from the collection, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings."

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.”
― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

                    *************

Maya Angelou is one of my soul mates.  No longer in this world, but her words touch me in a place not many others can.

Soul mates.  an interesting concept.  There are people you care for, those who are fun for awhile, good conversationalists who are good to have around, those whom you cannot stand the thought of hurting in any way.  Then there are those whose words, or maybe just their presence touches you in a deep place where others have never been.  those are, IMHO, the soul mates.

The verdict is still out, in my brain anyway, on whether the term refers to just one soul mate or if a person can have several of them in a lifetime;  i'm leaning towards the latter.  My sister, for example, is a soul mate.  One of those people who can reach deep inside you and push your buttons that make you go off like a siren, you're so mad your eyes cross, so mad you could spit (and i did just that, hold on a sec..) and steam pours out your head.  Those people you can fight like cats & dogs with one minute and love the next.   Yes, i'd love to have someone like that in my life right now, someone i can throw lamps at one minute and hug the next...instead of just feeling disgusted apathy & disappointment.  (oh btw, it's ok, i can say that, i don't have any "followers" reading this anyway... it doesn't matter..)



Back to the spitting reference... It was Christmas break and my sister and I were both home from our different colleges, for a couple weeks living in the same house again.  (how my parents put up with us, i have not a clue!!)  We were out in the car together, having just stalked one of our favorite thrift stores, managed to score some old ice skates to wear on the frozen lake near our parents' house.  I'd also found this wonderful, big ol' super-thick, hand-knit blue wool sweater, that while dry it went almost down to my knees, and when i very occasionally decided to wash it, it would stretch out so huge i could fit 2 old Siberian grannies in it plus their whole dog sled team, and would also then reek like a herd of dirty mangy Russian long-wool sheep on a rainy day.  But i loved it, as it completed my raggedy 80's look, complete with crazy-ripped jeans, oodles of Madonna-style necklace chains, bangly long earrings and high-top Converse sneakers. (weird, i know)



anywho.... (where was i?) oh yes..the spit fight.

We were on the way home, i was driving.  As usual, we were fighting over the radio, whose music to play.  So my sister, ever the control freak, came up with a plan, a new rule: We'd each have one button to control- she had the right hand button, the on/off and volume control, (i think it was) since she was on the right side, in the passenger seat, and i'd have the left side button, the station selector, since i was on the left side, in the driver's seat.  Fair enough, right? ha!  That's where things got interesting.  I would flip along the station dial as i drove, listening for a few bars of my favorite dance-pop style music, or some good def Leppard, and if i found something i liked and stopped on it, but she did NOT like it, she'd turn the volume way down or off.  But if i found something really dumb and boring like Dan Fogerty or something folksy like Suzanne Vega, she'd demand that i stop on it and she'd crank up the volume REAL LOUD, much to my fury as we bumped along the old road from the thrift store.  This happened over and over, right when i'd start getting into the groove of a good song i landed on, zip, she'd turn it down and refuse to turn it up until i changed the station.  ok, so i was seeing stars by this time, i was so mad, and was ready to fight her but i was driving of course.  If i'd known some martial arts back then, i'd have back-handed her with my free fist while the other held the steering wheel..but i didn't know those things back then.  So i did what any good mad girl would do to her equally seething-mad sister while i manuevered through lunch hour traffic in a busy intersection:  I SPIT!!!!!  Not just your little sissy-spit, like you're spitting out a bad piece of gum from the front of your mouth.  oh no, this was one of your reach-back-to-the-back-of-your-throat-and-scrape-out-all-the-phlegm kind of "HAAAAWWWWWKKK-----tuk!!!" and the swirling loogey went flying into the air and- no, it was unfortunately misfired, missed its target of my sister thanks to the oncoming traffic in front of us and went SPLAT all over the inside of the windshield.  MY side of the windshield, thank you very much.  Now my sister of course thought this was wildly amusing, but i thought not.  It's just not a good satisfying, climatic ending of a good fight to drive along, trying to see your way down the street through the dripping, oozing blob of your own spit dribbling down the windshield.   I don't remember what happened next, how i wiped it up to clear my visibility, but i'm certainly hoping i found the end of my sister's scarf and swiped it into the puddle, so she could at least be reminded of our little scuffle by the smell of my spit on her scarf next time she stepped out into the frigid Wisconsin tundra.

Yet, despite our many fights, we are still soul mates.  Sometimes, out of the blue, she will text me an "i'm praying for you" message, right at the very hour when i need it, when i'm feeling extremely low for some reason.  Soul mates are those people who just seem to be on your wavelength, they "get" you the way no one else can.

 

So like i was saying at the beginning of all this...

Maya Angelou, or her poetry, i should say, is one of my soul mates.  

So here are a few more of her quotes that i love:  (ok, actually it's more like a bunch of them, sorry, i got carried away..) ;)

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” 

“To be left alone on the tightrope of youthful unknowing is to experience the excruciating beauty of full freedom and the threat of eternal indecision. Few, if any, survive their teens. Most surrender to the vague but murderous pressure of adult conformity. It becomes easier to die and avoid conflict than to maintain a constant battle with the superior forces of maturity.” 

“Anything that works against you can also work for you once you understand the Principle of Reverse.” 
                             


 

and more...

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” 

“When someone shows you who they are believe them; the first time.” 

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.

“A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her.” 

“Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.” 

“Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud.” 

“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.” 

“Stepping onto a brand-new path is difficult, but not more difficult than remaining in a situation, which is not nurturing to the whole woman.” 

“The desire to reach for the stars is ambitious. The desire to reach hearts is wise.” 

“When you learn, teach, when you get, give.” 


I could ramble on and on about any and all of the above quotes, but i'll save that for another time.

Regarding that last one,  I really want to be doing that in my own life more: teaching what i learn, and giving more of what i receive.  That's the kind of generosity i eventually want to be sharing.  Once i get my head straightened out here first.

have a good day, and don't spit on any windshields!!  ;-D

ta

R.I.P.

i wonder what people will say about me after i leave...

things like,

"oh she mostly seemed fine on the outside, i suppose she must've been troubled.."

"we tried to tell her what to do, but she wouldn't listen. always seemed to think she knew something we didn't.  tsk, tsk, stubborn obstinate witch, bless her heart..."

"she seemed to love her children, and they seemed genuinely sad to see her go, but, all in all, i'm sure they're much better off without her."

"she's in a better place now."

"now, what to do with all this clutter she left behind.  ballet shoes, boxing gloves, an old guitar, art supplies to fill a whole room, oh good, finally they can use that old art studio as a dining room again... a whole suitcase of beat-up old diaries, go ahead and toss those in the recycling, please...we've heard enough of her rants...."

zombie

in about 11 years
(if i'm still here)
i might start living again.

till then
i am a zombie.

mostly dead
but
clothed in fakeness
for the sake of
duty and appearances.

so if you see me
limping along
and you think it's just a mirage
this strange creature
stumbling along,
groaning inexplicably under its raspy breath
lunging at passersby
in an insatiable hunger for meat
grabbing a fleshy limb
and collapsing in pure pleasure of the kill,
knawing ferociously,
feverishly,
drooling and gasping...

go ahead,
look away,
adjust your glasses,
it's just a mirage.

see, i'm just fine.
behaving myself nicely
in my nice little
fakey, shallow, self-righteous
carefully constructed
method of normalcy.
not going deep.
heart maintained by machines.
see you on the other side.

free

            In a way, I am already free.

thoughts on sticky notes

If all it took to make a heartfelt decision is mental reasoning and checklists, why did God give us a heart???

Following Jesus does not mean just burying your heart in order to be "submissive" and follow whomever says they're your leader.   Like the lamb to the slaughter, you feel you cannot open your mouth and your scarred heart lies dormant.

No. God loves us too much to let us continue living as robots.  He allows the storms, the violence in our hearts to erupt, to tear us painfully apart at the seams and show us who we really are, to show us our deepest need for a Saviour.  Not just to bless our best church-clothes behavior, but a Savior who steps into our rotten filth and draws us lovingly, tenderly, ignoring the stench..drawing us to His heart.   So we can live lives wide open for His glory and our peace.

"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh."     Ezekiel 36:26

comfort in the night (old school)

Ps. 22  My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me,
so far from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
by night, and am not silent...

Do not be far from me,
for trouble is near
and there is no one to help...

They divide my garments among them
and cast lots for my  clothing.

But you, O lord, be not far off;
O my Strength, come quickly to help me.

Ps. 25  Turn to me and be gracious to me,
for I am lonely and afflicted.
The troubles of my heart have multiplied;
free me from my anguish.
Look upon my affliction and my distress
and take away all my sins.

Ps. 31  Be strong and take heart,
all you who hope in the Lord.

Ps. 32 You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.

Ps. 34 The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Ps. 38 All my longings lie open before you, O Lord;
my sighing is not hidden from you.
My heart pounds, my strength fails me...
My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds;
my neighbors stay far away.

I am like a deaf man, who cannot hear, like a mute, who cannot open his mouth;

Ps. 39  I said, I will watch my ways and keep my tongue from sin;
I will put a muzzle on my mouth...
But when I was silent and still, not even saying anything good,
my anguish increased.
My heart grew hot within me, and as I meditated, the fire burned;
then I spoke with my tongue:
Show me, O Lord, my life's end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting is my life...

But now, Lord, what do I look for?
My hope is in you.
Save me from all my transgressions;
do not make me the scorn of fools.

Ps. 40  I waited patiently for the Lord;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
he lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a NEW SONG in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the Lord.

Ps. 41 I said, 'Lord, have mercy on me;
heal me, for I have sinned against you.'
My enemies say of me in malice,
When will he DIE and his name perish?
Whenever one comes to see me,
 he speaks falsely, while his heart gathers slander;
then he goes out and spreads it abroad.
All my enemies whisper together against me;
they imagine the worst for me, saying,
'A vile disease has beset him;
he will never get up from the place where he lies.'
Even my close friend,
 whom I trusted, he who shared my bread,
has lifted up his heel against me.

Ps. 42 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
My tears have been my food day and night,
while men say to me all day long, 'Where is your God?'

By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me-
a prayer to the God of my life.

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

Ps. 55  But I call to God,
and the Lord saves me.
Evening, morning and noon
I cry out in distress
and he hears my voice.

Ps. 56  My slanderers pursue me all day long...
All day long they twist my words;
they are always plotting to harm me.

Ps. 57  Have mercy on me, O God..
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
until the disaster has passed.

Ps. 61 lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

Ps. 62  My soul finds rest in God alone;
One thing God has spoken,
two things have I heard;
that you, O God, are strong,
and that you, O Lord, are loving.

Ps. 66 If I had CHERISHED sin in my heart,
the Lord would not have listened;
but God has surely listened and heard my voice in prayer.
Praise be to God,
who has not rejected my prayer
or withheld his love from me!

Ps. 70  Do not cast me away when I am old;
do not forsake me when my strength is gone.
For my enemies speak against me;
those who wait to kill me conspire together.
They say, 'God has forsaken him;
pursue him and seize him,
for no one will rescue him.'

Ps. 71  Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter,
you WILL restore my life again.

I will praise you with the harp
for your faithfulness, O my God;
I will sing praise to you with the lyre...
My lips will shout for joy
when I sing praise to you-
I, whom you have redeemed.

just a thought

Recently i've had the weird sensation, and i'm not sure whether i was awake or asleep, but i had the very real sensation of dying.  Of leaving this present consciousness and entering a very peaceful place.  It was kind of nice, but that scares me, because maybe that's something that my subconscious mind is really desiring at this point.  Just to be gone.  non-existent.  except for in the spiritual realm, of course, i would be with Jesus.  no more strife.  no more trying to convince everyone that what i feel in my heart is so true.  i could just prove it by letting go.  pulling the plug. just put an end to it all.  so simple.  and yet so selfish.  that i must endure this after all.

roar

sometimes i'm tempted to just be quiet. shut my mouth, stop blogging. give it up.  keep the peace.  after all, sometimes the thoughts and opinions i've been having lately are pretty strong, and what if somebody doesn't agree with me, or thinks i'm wrong? accuses me of things that may be true but it still hurts.  i can't have that happen, right? avoid conflict at all costs.  my motto for life.  right?  or maybe that needs to change.  not that i'm always right.  if i am wrong, and i will be many, many times, what's so bad about falling on my face a few times and being seen as a fool?  ok that's where it gets uncomfortable.  what if people don't believe that what i say is really my truth?  what if people get mad at me?  oh dear, that's even more uncomfortable.  ok, let's look at it the other way.  what if i do NOT say anything? what if i keep my thoughts inside my head.  does that mean i'm not still thinking them? of course not. only then i'm building up the pressure inside me,  while falsely smiling politely  when really i want to scream that i don't agree with them.  reminds me of katy perry's song,                                      "Roar"

I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath
Scared to rock the boat and make a mess
So I sat quietly, agreed politely
I guess that I forgot I had a choice
I let you push me past the breaking point
I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything

You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, you hear that sound
Like thunder gonna shake the ground
You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)
Get ready 'cause I’ve had enough
I see it all, I see it now

[Chorus]
I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
'Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
'Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
You’re gonna hear me roar

Now I’m floating like a butterfly
Stinging like a bee I earned my stripes
I went from zero, to my own hero

You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, you hear that sound
Like thunder gonna shake the ground
You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)
Get ready ’cause I’ve had enough
I see it all, I see it now

[Chorus}

now i'm not really a huge katy perry fan, but she does have talent and i like some of her very open and honest lyrics.  It's sad that she grew up in a Christian home but felt so stifled and held down by her parents, that she felt she had to break free and go the completely opposite direction.  Regardless of her current behaviors, i like this song because it paints such a picture of myself, always keeping my mouth shut, agreeing politely. Too afraid of someone stronger, more important or popular than me interrupting me or saying something more important or popular than what i have to say, so i just keep my mouth shut. 
oh no, i've said too much, 
i've said enough...

carts and baby toys

pushing the shopping cart
blinking back tears
music in store reminds me
what i said is true.




what can be worse
than being sad
to see someone happy
because you know
that if they knew the truth
(again)
they'd be crushed
(again)
like whacking a toy out of
a baby's hands
over and over again.

access denied

sackcloth and ashes
dreams hidden in a jar
sacrifice for my kids
gives me strength to care
yet a part of me must die
i am not like the others
i am a deformity
my heart lies trapped in a cage
access denied
till death does us part.

surfing lessons

hey dude!  surf's up! let's catch a wave!

or, just talk about it. there are so many great illustrations in nature of things in the spiritual life.  Like in the mighty waves of the ocean.  but before i begin to wax poetical...let's just wax our boards (ha ha) and at least imagine we're sitting out in the waves of Puerto Rico:

Here's a short clip of my surfing lesson in Puerto Rico on Thursday, Feb. 20th.  Our actual surfing was done so far out in the bigger waves that the video camera on land could only catch these first few moments as we entered the water.  At least you get the idea..  here goes:




Sorry I don't have footage of my actual surfing. So I'll explain it instead.

Like all our days on our Feb. 2014 vacation to Puerto Rico, we woke up to a beautiful, gorgeous morning, to the sound of the roosters next door.  Spent the early morning lying in the hammock on the balcony, overlooking green hills topped with brown cows grazing in the grass, with a picturesque background of the blue ocean in the distance, drinking good native-grown strong coffee and fresh papaya and pineapple.  Finally got our cooler packed, swim suits on, and headed out to the surf school where we'd signed up the other day for me to take lessons.

 

It had been a struggle just trying to find the place.  Nothing was easy to find in Puerto Rico.  Street signs, if existent at all, were poorly marked, and roads through the mountains along the coast were extremely curvy and constantly changing in altitude.  After much driving around in circles, we finally figured out which little cement building on a narrow road traversed by mostly stray dogs and pedestrians, was the surf school.  We walk in the open door, (most buildings were open-door in this warm climate) and are immediately overtaken by this wonderful surf vibe.  A few obvious surfers are standing around, and we make our way back to the desk where the owner dude was sitting. Shirtless and tanned, bleach-blonde hair stuffed into a scraggly ponytail, lean, muscular and agile, skin a bit beat-up and scratched by the expected wipe-outs and bifs in the life of surfing.  His charismatic, magnetic and free-spirited personality shines through his blue eyes as he sizes us up, and then lowers himself to my little boy's level, gives him a high five and greets him with a "hey, dude! is this our little shredder?"  (referring to the term of "shredding" through the waves, for the non-surf-literate)  I clear my throat.  "uhh, it's actually his mama who's getting the surf lessons.." Trying to hide his surprise, he stands back up and gawks at this middle-age woman holding out her credit card.  So we work out the details of the upcoming lesson, his eyes glazing over as he talks about the experience, and you can feel his passion for the sport, how he gave up a successful business in the states in order to live here and share that love with others in search of that euphoric feeling of "catching a wave."   I pay the bucks, sign on the dotted line that he is not responsible if I get eaten up by a shark, and we exit.

Two days later:  We find the place again, and i get a quick private on-land lesson on surfing basics, just me and this dude in a bamboo gazebo behind the shop. He explains a bunch of safety precautions, and then gives me a few guided tries on how to do the infamous "pop-up" move, quickly going from the prone position on the board, to the bent-knee squat, arms out for balance, on just the right spot of the board at exactly the right time in order for that wave to lift you into paradise. Then we join the other 2 girls in my class, who had already started taking lessons the day before, down on the beach.  (that's where the first video clip took place)

The other 2 girls were much younger than me, of course, and unlike me they were 2 wild, single, just-out-of-college young women just having a great week in the tropics.  I got to know them a bit as we spent some time just sitting around on our boards way offshore, waiting our turn to be coached individually by our instructor.  The instructor, (i forgot his name) would take us one at a time, guide us to a good place to catch a wave, and review all the basics of what to do while we waited, (and waited...and waited...) for the perfect wave.  When it finally came, he'd hold the board for a few seconds to keep it straight, then yell "GO!!!" when it was our turn to paddle like mad as the wave approached behind us, then he'll yell "pop up!!!" at just the right second for us to rise up and dominate that wave.. or wipe-out right away and get pummeled to death, which was usually the case.  Either way, it was fun.

It also could be a bit scary. These waves weren't like the little bumps in the surf we've seen in North Carolina, those mild, quickly crashing, fun-to-boogie board-to-shore kind…  No, these were scary.  Lying out there, what seemed like half a mile from shore, looking  in… those waves had a mind of their own.  It was more like this massive turquoise blanket being raised up from the very bowels of the deepest ocean depths, till this quickly cresting wave comes hurtling up, faster and faster towards shore, and from our perspective, lying on our boards, we’d feel the mighty wave raise us up while still just a swell, then watch in horror as our friend who was at the crest of it with the instructor,  would suddenly disappear behind this big wall of water, and maybe we’d see her rise up, maybe not.  Usually we just waited till we saw the white longboard go springing up into the air after she met her fate of a nasty spill, the usual conclusion of any of our attempts.  There was one set of waves in particular that REALLY put the fear of the Creator in me…  We’d been hanging out beyond the breakers for quite some time, waiting for the other girl and the instructor to get the perfect wave so she could take her turn.  It was flat for a long time.  Then it came, out of the blue, no pun intended, and seeing the speed and voracity of that wave.. I seriously was wishing I could just be air-lifted out of that place that very second!  How on earth would I be able to make it to shore ALIVE with a monster like that at my heels?  My horror was intensified when I watched how the wind ripped along the top of the wave, blowing a thunderous swoop of mist across this curling masterpiece.  My reaction came out in just two words:  “holy cow!”  ok. I apologize.  Cow was the not the actual word that came to my mind or lips at that second.  This was too real, beyond sense or moral justification of expletives.  I was scared.  But I lived through the moment, listened to my instructor and did as I was told, and I feel stronger today for facing that fear.  

Thinking back on it, it's easy to see the connection between rising up to ride one of those monster waves of the Carribean, and how we respond to the big "waves" in our lives. Those scary or uncomfortable situations that we aren't prepared for. Do we want God to just air-lift us out of them so we can totally avoid them? Not usually possible. How about just giving in and letting yourself getting sucked under and pummeled to death. Not a good option, either. You could just try to "boogie-board" the wave to shore, staying low on your belly, where the ride is nice and safe. Or, you could take a chance, stand up and try to surf it. You'll have the best view ever..and it just might give you the ride of your life.

I hope to give surfing another try sometime. And when i do, I hope to come back with more life lessons to share. hang ten, dude!

Preparation of the Heart

  

"Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.  Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill made low.  The crooked roads shall become straight, the rough ways smooth.  And all mankind will see God's salvation."    Luke 3:4-6

Just as John the Baptist prepared the world for the coming of Christ, so we too are called to prepare our own hearts for the Lord.

Sometimes God seems to be using dynamite to flatten some mountainous obstacles in our faith walk. When a construction crew is preparing to set off an explosion of dynamite to create a hole in a mine, or to blast through the mountains to pave a road, they do not huddle around the prepared dynamite or try to "help" by using their hands to help dig the hole.  No. that's stupid. They get back, way back, sound a very loud siren several times, yell something like "Fire in the hole!!"  and then BOOM!! The explosion occurs.  Sometimes God works like that, allowing huge explosions to "make low" those hills.

Other times this process involves filling in some deep valleys, deep gaps of unbelief in our lives.  He might rev up his steamrollers to flatten us when our pride is getting in the way of our humble service to him.  Other times he speaks to us in quiet whispers of the Holy Spirit, or the gentle nudge of a friend's encouragement.  Whatever method he is using in our lives, it is best to stand back and let him have his way.  The master builder knows what he is doing.  He will smooth out and refine those rough areas within us, and he will move aside the garbage and debris to clear his path.

Lord, prepare my heart for your service.  Blast away those monstrous obstacles in my path.  Purify and cleanse my thoughts, attitudes, and motives.  Direct me, whether it be the direct route or the long, scenic route, whichever it takes to prepare me for that unique calling you have on my life.


  

consume me

there are no superstars

in the family of God

no matter how hard we work behind the scenes

or how flashy we look for all to see

yes our works should reflect our faith but...

it is the heart laid bare

open wide, festering wounds visible to all

hearts turned inside out

without fear of criticism, scorn or judgement

hearts consumed by His presence

to the point that what we are on the outside

is no matter anymore

the honest heart that He desires

God tear me down to my deepest parts

that Your Spirit may wage war in the depths of my darkness

and set me free to love You more.