feeding the addiction

I like making lists, so while I'm up and totally alert at 12:26 AM, watching You've Got Mail after just having finished watching Sleepless in Seattle... I'm going to make a couple.

A random smattering of stuff I like:
You've Got Mail and Sleepless in Seattle, therefore Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, movie lines which David only recognizes because I say them a lot, "Hello, Diane! Take a look at these swatches!," making up my own punctuation rules when I'm not feeling Nazi-ish about it, school supplies, asparagus ferns, asparagus if it's fixed right, the smell of fall and all those memories attached to it, wrapping presents, fresh flowers in my house, long-haired men (but also bald ones...), mohawks for some reason that I've never yet understood, words like ache and mouth and perambulation, chai tea, the idea of a book club, tobacco barns, reading before bed, handkerchiefs...

Read more...

...and the night closed in.

Night time used to be my favorite time of the whole day. When I was in high school, I loved the time I would spend alone in my room while the house slept around me. I would usually talk to folks on instant messenger while I was getting ready for bed and then I would settle in with my 47 different pillows and a good movie. Many nights, though, I would spend at least a little bit of time writing. Just writing... about nothing and everything. Getting my heart out there on the page. There was time for it then and I needed it; I loved every second of it. Getting all that angst and passion, love or lust, sometimes anger, sometime jealousy, sometimes just nonsense out of me for a little while.

So many times still... all I want to do is pour myself out of an ink pen. It's the call of the open page that I long for so often, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. These 11-o'clock-and-later blog entries certainly show the truth of that.

But I didn't really sit down with the intention of writing about my writing habits and lack thereof. I sat down with the intention of just writing about normal life stuff in a helpless, grasping-at-straws sort of way to regain some normalcy in this brain of mine.

I planted flowers in my window boxes today. Celosia in the long one under the livingroom windows (to go with the begonias which were already there); pink and white impatiens paired up with asparagus ferns in the 2 shorter ones. They look nice... we'll see if I can keep them watered throughout the summer. Maybe it won't be as hot and dry as it was last year.

The rest of the day prior to that was uneventful... just the normal never-ending cycle of laundry interjected with the occasional dishes and Scotty-tending.

We did get to go hang out with my sister's kids while she and my bro-in-law went out for the night, and that was fun. It had been a really long time since I'd spent such a long time with the 3 of them. My niece fell asleep on me before we left, which reminds me of the Thanksgiving after she was born. She would have been nearing the 2 month mark and she fell asleep on my chest after lunch. I think I fell asleep, too. That seems like a lifetime ago. She'll be 4 in October. She was playing with her kitchen set tonight and I asked her if she was making my birthday cake. She informed me that it was not my birthday, so I asked her if she knew when my birthday was... and she said, "NEXT TO MINE!" Hehe... hers is the 8th, mine is the 18th. She's a sweetheart.

And then we came back home and it was dark and the day was over.

Depression or something grey and creeping has been an all-too-familiar companion these past months. I don't have any desire to be jubilantly happy every second of every day, but I know there was a time when I felt like there was some hope for tomorrow. My mind is weary with racing and my heart is tired of living in the shadows.

Night comes at least once every 24 hours for me and I watch each time as it approaches knowing that this will be one more time that I struggle to stay in the light as darkness closes in.

Night time used to be my favorite time of the whole day. But it's not anymore.

Read more...

A thing I like

I read this today and I think it's amazing... it's the May 30th entry in Streams in the Desert, which was compiled by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman.

And no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth (Rev. 14:3).

There are songs which can only be learned in the valley. No art can teach them; no rules of voice can make them perfectly sung. Their music is in the heart. They are songs of memory, of personal experience. They bring out their burden from the shadow of the past; they mount on the wings of yesterday.
Saint John says that even in heaven there will be a song that can only be fully sung by the sons of earth--the strain of redemption. Doubtless it is a song of triumph, a hymn of victory to the Christ who made us free. But the sense of triumph must come from the memory of the chain.
No angel, no archangel can sing it so sweetly as I can. To sing it as I sing it, they much pass through my exile, and this they cannot do. None can learn it but the children of the cross.
And so, my soul, thou art receiving a music lesson from thy Father. Thou art being educated for the choir invisible. There are parts of the symphony that none can take but thee.
There are chords too minor for the angels. There may be heights in the symphony which are beyong the scale--heights which angels alone can reach; but there are depths which belong to thee, and can only be touched by thee.
Thy Father is training thee for the part the angels cannot sing; and the school is sorrow. I have heard many say that He sends sorry to prove thee; nay, He sends sorrow to educate thee, to train thee for the choir invisible.
In the night He is preparing thy song. In the valley He is tuning thy voice. In the cloud He is deepening thy chords. In the rain He is sweetening thy melody. In the cold He is moulding thy expressing. In the transition from hope to fear He is perfecting thy lights.
Despise not thy school of sorrow, O my soul; it will give thee a unique part in the universal song. -George Matheson

Is the midnight closing round you?
Are the shadows dark and long?
Ask Him to come close beside you,
And He'll give you a new, sweet song.
He'll give it and sing it with you;
And when weakness lets it down,
He'll take up the broken cadence,
And blend it with His own.

And many a rapturous minstrel
Among those sons of light,
Will say of His sweetest music
"I learned it in the night."
And many a rolling anthem,
That fills the Father's home,
Sobbed out its first rehearsal,
In the shade of a darkened room.

---
I highly, HIGHLY recommend this devotional book. There are many revised versions, but I have the original with only the simple scripture references, thoughts on that reference by various people, and a short poem by Mrs. Cowman (I linked to the exact version I have above if anyone's interested). It's been downright amazing how God has used each day's entry to apply directly to something going on in my life.

Read more...

At all times...

At 12:35, what in the world am I doing 1) awake and 2) writing a blog of all things?

1) I have no idea because I'm so tired my eyes feel like they have silly putty in them and
2) because I wanna.

I was just reading another blog by a lady whose writings are all about her family life and the loss of an unborn child (at least I'm pretty sure she died in utero... haven't gotten that far yet). I was reading along for a long time (another odd thing to be doing after midnight) before I realized that this lady is the wife of one of the guys in the Christian group Selah, which I love.

Anyway, all of that is quite beside the point, since the main gist of what's on my mind concerns more the spirit in which her posts were written. They were full of such faith and strength and even humor... and they inspired me so, especially given the mood I've been in tonight and the past few days.

To sum it up in very short order... I'm discouraged. Admitting such a thing makes me sick since, as a good friend once advised me, "Don't get discouraged... that's exactly what Satan wants you to do." I know, I know... and that's what makes me sick.

I feel a whole lot like the person who says, "I really want to be healthy, but when I want another cookie, I just can't stop myself." (p.s., I've been that person before, too, actually). So many times (I'm talking every single day... especially lately), I actually have it go through my mind all about the kind of Christian I'd like to be... I wish I had a better prayer life... I wish I could feel God's presence all the time... I wish I could just say "God" and He would be right there comforting me in every circumstance. And again... I know, I know...

David and I had gotten totally out of the habit of watching television (except Veggietales and Baby Einstein...), and we were both loving it. Likewise, we'd gotten totally out of the habit of listening to anything on the radio other than Christian/gospel or at least something quieter and more reflective/less distracting. Well, I've watched David Letterman and Craig Ferguson for the past 2 or 3 nights... and I fell out of my good radio habits a while back as well... and oh my gosh, can I ever tell a difference. I was sitting here reading that blog I was talking about earlier and had Craig Ferguson on in the background... that's sorda when it hit me...

I am such a hypocrite. I am a Pharisee's Pharisee.

Here I was sitting here reading all of these wonderfully uplifting and God-glorifying things with a bunch of garbage just rattling on in the background. And I would actually look up and laugh at things from time to time. What a telling scenario. I put on a nice front and I go to church practically every time the doors are open, but the dull roar of the world is ever present in the background of my life.

Multiple times I find myself completely disgusted over something that I see going on around me, but I still allow myself to be a part of it every single day.

I'm so glad that I serve (in my own very weak way) a God who sees the desires of my heart... because in my heart of hearts, what I want most is to be found serving Him at all times... not just when it's convenient or easy or popular or whatever. It's so easy for me to turn to God when I'm hurting; I want it to become so easy for me to turn to Him every day. It's wonderful to be able to go to Him in times of need, but I want Him to help me prioritize a bit better so I'll remember that thanking Him during the good times is just as wonderful and important.

This is a rambling thing that I've written... but it's been more for me than for anybody else, so take it for what it is.

Read more...

a poem I just wrote + some thoughts

I raise you, my Lord,
my Salvation, my Rock,
I raise you, the One who was slain.
It was my sin, those nails,
My sin, those scars,
My sin, that caused you such pain.

I raise you, my Lord,
my Redeemer, my Prince,
I raise you, oh, Conqueror of grave.
It was my soul you loved,
my soul, you died,
it was my soul that you came to save.

I raise you, my Lord,
on the wings of my prayer.
I raise you, oh, my Mighty Tower.
For the height and the breadth,
extents I can't understand,
The width and the depth of Love's power.

I raise you, my Lord,
in my weakest of ways,
I raise you in the midst of my sin.
The petition of my heart,
the plea of my soul,
O Lord, let me raise you again.


It's been a good day and I'm thankful.

I wonder and, all too often, worry about what lies ahead for me and my family. I spend far too much time considering the "what ifs" and working myself into a panic over things that don't even exist in the here and now. But sometimes, just sometimes, when I can get even an inkling of the closeness I should always have with my Lord, He gives me the sweetest clarity of mind and the sweetest overflowing of that peace that He placed in my soul... and I'm able, if only for a moment, to really feel the control that He has over everything.

If I knew there was a mansion next door with a swimming pool and big fluffy feather beds and some kind of nice spa bathtub with warm towels all the time... and cheesecake and pizza... and every other luxury you can imagine... and this mansion was open for me to use 24/7 anytime I felt like it... why wouldn't I just move in? There's a higher plane of living. And it's just there for the taking and there are 10,000 charms there... things better than pizza and spa bathtubs. How foolish of me that I should refuse to move into that mansion!

The length of my life here should be of no concern to me, only how I live for whatever length of time God grants me. I have a great, wonderful, powerful, awesome, enormous God who is
worthy of more praise than my mortal body is capable of giving Him. But I should fill up every nano-second of every day with willingness to do whatever it is that would glorify Him most and look forward to the day when He's going to make me like Jesus, so I can finally FINALLY give Him the praise He's worthy of FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY!

Read more...