Friday, August 27, 2010

Shapes and Sizes.

Emotions come in all shapes and sizes.... tonight's emotions came in the shape of converse shoes, the size? 8.5. These particular shoes were used to channel my emotions to swing-dancing. When I dance I am forced to realize what an awkward individual I have the capacity to be. Example: first partner... sneezed on him and saw his eyes widen with glee as the instructor yelled 'switch partners!'...sorry small freshman boy. I am also relatively unskilled in the words department. I have the tendency to speak before thinking. Example: next partner says: 'How often do you swing dance?' My response: "Well, the last time I swung danced, I was wearing fishnets! I mean...not often." Instructor: SWITCH! ...what did I mean? I meant the last time I swung dance was when I was in Guys and Dolls two years ago. Sometimes I try to be funny and it crashes and burns.

The next emotional shape was a redvine--let me tell you something; that is the most legit candy ever invented. You can eat it with almost anything AND use it as a straw. Is it gross? Somewhat, but at least it can be done. Next part of my night consisted of me, once again, running the back of my head into a Jessup light pole. Why, oh why, is my head attracted to so many objects? I'm bound to live a concussed life.

Last non-serious subject: Dear Michael Johns.

I hope you enjoy your pineapple juice. I do not hope the fruit-acid burns the roof of your mouth such as you have burned my emotional state with your 'lets make Rachel jealous' tweets. So ends my irritation/shout-out. =)

So begins the serious processing section of this blog:

My name is Rachel Elizabeth Jackson, and I have grown up believing the lie that reality should be somewhat of a painful experience. I have believed that romantic love should be a series of dramatic events resulting in irritation from one or both parties. I have believed I am responsible for the emotions of another person. (This is where everyone says, 'Hi Rachel.'). Unlike many sob stories of the modern 19 year old,I will not insinuate my parents, Disney movies, or horrendous friends led me to these heinous conclusions, I will simply state it was a matter of living and learning from a one-dimensional lens. My heart missed the memo that I wasn't destined to be Hosea. I also missed the memo that 'heavy emotions' and 'fifteen year old girl' never mesh will. By the grace of God,I now have lived and learned from multiple dimensions; I have altered the pattern and hopefully walked away with only a few cuts and bruises.

I serve an amazing, all-powerful God who's desire is to make me whole in Him. Who's desire is to shape me, ever so gently, in accordance to His will. I serve a God who's grace is more than sufficient--His grace is my hope and my peace in these times of grieving. He holds every last tear in a bottle and He hurts with me. He rejoices over me with singing, but mostly, He just holds me when I can't pick myself up. I live to be the woman He envisioned when He formed me in the womb. I desire to live abandoned to a sacred identity.

Last subject of the night:

I really like this =). I like positive feelings. That's all.

Sleep well, kids. Listen to some Copeland and read Zephaniah. It will blow your mind.


Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Not an Item.

I don’t know where exactly

I crossed the line

Before the reason and the rhyme

Ceased their synchronization

With two at the time—

All I know is

I lost myself in the cost

Of letting go

And finally being found

Standing up from the ground.

I was always your couch

To relax with when the day was done

And loneliness called your name--

But your routine never changed

Regardless of how worn I became.

Couches aren’t always new,

And I had lost my zest

Just like all your rest.

Just like all the other blondes, red heads and brunettes.

Like all the other 7’s in your chest.

I was a thrifty couch of insecurity—

Covered by a blanket of your mediocrity;

.I was never really the problem, plan or solution.

Just a temporary fix for all that your curtains envisioned.

But I’m not your decorative item,

Worthy of gaze and speculation,

And I'm not your best seven.

I'm not your vision of beauty, darling--

I’m a real-life human being.

Walking off your ‘collectibles’ shelf was the best choice I have ever made.

I can’t wait to never go back.


Sunday, August 22, 2010

The Question Is...

Why have I been avoiding this blog?

I know why: I've lived a large portion of my life navigating through various filters that end in the letter Y. Well, I'm over that now. You can call me a grownup or something if you want, because that is what I'm trying to be--A genuine, self-respecting woman of the Lord, called for and to a purpose, living solely for her Creator. Now that the avoidance issue is has been addressed, I'll move on.

I'm finally at school, and there is something incredibly comforting about it. Perhaps it is that tiny William Jessup University was the place I experienced true community. It is the place I was embraced. It is the place I learned to find myself lost in Him instead of him. Or maybe it is something as simple as I really enjoy books and Mel's french fries (which just so happen to be right down the street from me.) Whatever it is, I am so thrilled to be back in my quaint dorm, brewing coffee and hearing the beautiful voice of the girl who lives in the room next to me; I hope she never stops singing.

I am so excited with what God is doing in my life. I'm am so thrilled for this adventure. I am so glad to die to self and live in complete abandoned obedience because I am learning there is nothing quite as freeing as letting go with both hands. More than anything, I'm excited to see what plans God has up His sleeve. I have a feeling He has some good ones in store =).

I don't want to be angry anymore, I've been angry for years. I don't want to live my life feeling like a victim, because I'm not. I am more than a conqueror in Christ Jesus.

The pattern has stopped here. And I couldn't be more thrilled.

I am genuinely ready for this, I've been waiting to be ready for years, and God has answered my prayers. I'm free; I am so free. Is it going to be a process? Absolutely, and God's by no means finished with me. But this is off to a great start. For the first time in, I can't even remember how long, I know I'm moving in forward motion. And I know I'm not looking back.

Hey, Hey 2010. You're looking pretty good to me.

Friday, August 13, 2010

I'm posting this from a phone... Yay technology.

I'll keep this short and sweet: I don't know where to begin or really where to end. Everything is kind of blending together and I feel like I am clawing at thin air trying to reach a conclusion to something that echos of madness. Being cryptic is only fun when you feel like you are losing your mind. If I'm clingy or needy it's because I am trying m hardest not to crumble.... I want, and need to keep it together for at least a litte while longer. I hate breaking down in front of people because there's always that awkward moment of figuring out how to handle it. It's so hard for me to be real with people sometimes because all I want is to make sure they feel comfortable and validated. Jesus... I am so in need of Your tender touch.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Sometimes I like to write poems that make no sense...

Snap crackle pop.
It's like a symphony when it plays on strings
Strings of an organ that beats.
Mutiny is the name of the game
If there's any other name
By which a game can be played.

Tap Tap Tap.
Its like a constant wrap
At a door I can't find
If there are any doors with knuckle marks
And if I'm not two measures behind.

Tick Tick Tock.
It's like the guest who's timing is always off
If time is more than space
And if I seem to ever be in the right place.
Just like confusion when you don't even think.

Pulse Burn Repeat.
It's like a moment lost at sea
If the water is clearer than blue.
It's like what happens when disillusioning becomes you.
If a magician has lost all flare in the center of an act.

Try Try Again.
Just relax.


Friday, August 6, 2010

When Days Turn Into Weeks.

There have been times in my life where I considered myself a relatively creative specimen. Today is one of those times. I like my blog subject lines to give people an idea on what I'm going to write about, and yet, keep it mysterious enough so they'll read it anyways. By now you've probably figured out my first paragraph has just been a thought, and probably has very little to do with this blog;sorry, I have a short attention span.

And now I'm on to bigger and better things, like explaining why these days have turned into weeks. Something I've figured out in all my 19 years (I know, I'm old and full of wisdom) has been the fact that time doesn't stop for anything or anyone. There is not a magical button you can push for the universe to slow down so you can savor a moment or figure out what the crap you're doing. Unfortunately, time goes on, and so must you. There have been several times in the course of my past two weeks where I have wanted time to stop simply so I could think about things beyond their face value. There have also been times, like last night during worship, where I just wanted to pause and look at all the faces so I could know more than facial structures. I yearn to know the stories--pains and joys, of the people God has given me to lead for those sacred twenty minutes.

Everyone is a person. Trivial thought, I know, but sometimes I forget how intertwined the human race is. Being a selfish person, I tend to think their is not an incredible amount going on the lives of others. Of course, when I pause for more than one second, it becomes brutally obvious to me how wrong and ignorant I am. But I don't seem to make myself pause very often.

These days have turned into weeks, and these weeks have turned into months. I can't stop time for several reasons.... one of which includes not having a wand, cape, or pop tarts. However, I know I have the capacity to calm myself and stop what I'm doing so I figure out how the crap the world is working. So I can figure out what the crap my mind is thinking. And most importantly, so I can figure out how the crap to better love people.

It seems appropriate I should end this blog after writing a paragraph that mentions pop tarts and uses the word 'crap' more than twice. I'm not sure anybody reads this, and I may or may not be okay with that. Well, those are some snippets of my life in its present state. Also, I have a headache that feels like it's eating my brain.

On that note, stay in school, kids.