Monday, December 12, 2011

No Clever Title.

So the curtain begins to close on yet another semester. It's incredibly nostalgic and strange to look back on the past two and a half years of my life and note all the changes. Since I have made the executive decision to only let nostalgia haunt me when I'm feeling rested and mentally capable, I will not discuss such things at length on this blog today. I am not rested--and the only thoughts running through my head are thoughts such as: "Remember to note the picardy third! Beethoven, why do you hate me? Macgamut, I will end you. Exogesis, not Eisogesis..." Really, quite insane. In short; it is finals week, and I am tad stressed. Moving on.

Life is a myriad of choices that
Capitalize on the essence of free will
Poor judgment. 
But those choices we will label 'poor'
Make the next choice
So we pose the question:
Is any choice really unwise if it makes us wiser?
Perhaps mistakes are defined by that we refuse to learn from
And not poor decisions.

Yesterday is like a cloud,
And I wake up in the body of one
I used to know not.

She's grown to be quite the
Lovely young lady
You know--
She can hit you in soft spots
Without needing to appologize
If you really deserve it.
But she still decides to
Lend an ear
To those who lavish love.

She goes back to the bedroom
And it's like a fog of yellow
Until she realizes she's been dreaming
Of Band Names, Lilies, and speeches from friends
Who have known the story that ended.

She wakes up and resolves to write the novel
For there is processing to be done.
She thinks she likes this scene better.

There can't be a mistake at hand
If the poor decision made you
And caused you to freefall
Into green arms handing you yellow lilies for things
Like anniversaries.
I think I'd do it again. 


Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Beat-Beat and Tick-Tock.

Hand to Hand
Heart to Heart
Creating these things--
That scare me.

Happiness and Heart-Soaring Hiccups in my Whole.
Is power
When it's accompanied with time
And a interlocked handhold.

Theology challenged
In the
Face of
what fits better than
Heartbeat that ticks.

Friend, you are my best
I will be your best
Because I decide
With a mind
that could challenge

And I'll challenge you--
My heartbeat, my joy.

Because that is what being a heart means.

It means a him and me
Because together we are

That is the definition of proof.
Beat-Beat and Tick-Tock
Goes the clock of us.
Light this fire--
And hold my hand even

Because I choose to forfeit fear
Throw them to
The array of yellow lilies on my bed-stand.


Tuesday, September 27, 2011


We walk through the land of the certain.
We cascade through days
Like it's

And oh, we are certain
Of what we feel
And positive of
When certainty breaks
Like glass.

And I, the viper
And he, the snail
And I, the butterfly
And he, the bear.

We know of everything
Until the dawn
When proportion is
And feeling is

But feeling shifts like
Flicker of streetlights
In Amsterdam
And Country Gables.

So I, the child
And he, the adult
And I, machine
And he, the operator.

Dizzy up the lines
Like it's
Oh, certainty is


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My Lion.

Often in life we are encouraged to face fears, to chase lions, to humble ourselves and be in the center of a scruple we wish to run from. Sometimes those are cages of our own making; the inescapable reality of humanity and the woes it has inflicted on you while you inflict it on others. Other times those lions are mere creatures that look more frightening than they ought.

This fear, this lion, was something I had to face. So I walked with confidence and reliance on my ability to enclose myself with brick. Oh, you know the travesties of one who has far too much emotion--but not I, the solid, the brick, the wall, the red flag woman. I feel only what I choose. I am in control.

If only such a thing were true. But no, I am the paux de doux with a smile like a china doll. I am joyful, but I am porcelain. I am solid, but I am glass. I am that wall as long as it is not that fear that makes my walls incinerate on contact. (That fear, that lion, was the thing I loved most in the world. That dance, that song, that structure, that comfort... that death of self, the death of it, the death of a love that was never meant to last.)

But Oh, I faced it, and I stared it down.

That lion and I shared smiles about how I could not tame it. I am no circus keeper you know. That lion is wild and free, and his mate, my fear, is lovely.

The lion belongs in Africa, in some exotic and beautiful land. Oh my fear is beautiful, and I love the thrill of the chase. But she, my fear, is graceful next to the lion of Africa--and they together are a pair of paradise.

So I stand knowing I faced and smiled at that lion like a porcelain doll, and my fear and I shook hands and danced in a crowd of familiar and strange faces. But I relent the chase. For the Lion is in the beautiful lands of the exotic and new, but I am just in California, and I wear the feather's of the birds he likes to eat.

So I relent; especially on the outside.

Roam, lion. Roam free.


Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Disneyland and Stuff

It’s funny how things change in an instant. It’s amusing how one’s life can be transformed in seven days. Spontaneity has always called my name, but sometimes my head gets the better of me. It’s ironic how the plans we make, feeling rather adult, are possibly the most immature plans we can make. We cannot build a plan inside concrete because plans change, and breaking concrete presents difficult and messy matters.

So I sit here, wondering, bracing, enjoying, and taking in the essence of living in liberation. What a wonderful thing it is to have life just a little figured out, and what an even greater thing it is to have oneself sorted out a tad. I have lived my life in a series of pulling in and out of driveways in order to establish some semblance of belonging, or at least a base of such.

But I have grown so much, and there is not much that plagues the heart these days.

I have finally learned the art of letting go; the art of the emotional skydive. I am not certain where my life is headed, who I shall be, or who I shall be with. I am only certain of this: I love my God with my whole heart, and I am at His beck and call. I have never been so satisfied, and yet filled with such a holy discontent. I love the chase, the chase after my Savior. I love how safe His arms are, how beautiful His plans are. I love how He makes life seem so spontaneous.

He has blessed me with a week of growth, with smiles that outlast the days, and with a heart full of joy, peace, laughter, and a holy longing. There is nothing else I can ask for—He is holding my universe, and spinning it at a pace more exciting than a rollercoaster.


Friday, July 15, 2011

1.a conception of something in its perfection.
2.a standard of perfection or excellence.
3.a person or thing conceived as embodying such a conception or conforming to such a standard, and taken as a model for imitation

I am not one who prizes herself to be a planner or organizer. I am no skeptic who thinks about the ramifications of tomorrow. I am not a perfectionist, rather, I take delight in the imperfections around me. I cannot keep a calendar in order, because I believe this hinders daily creativity that keeps me ticking. I am a sensationalist, often to a fault. I like to be light enough to blow where the wind takes me, and I try my hardest to capture myself in the lack of plans surrounding my day-to-day life. That way I cannot be disappointed when a plan is broken.

I am a piece of silk; transparent and apt to float the ground when pushed off the table. I do not hit the bottom as a pencil would, rather, I take my time gracefully making my way to the carpet. You can see through me, but you can't determine where my stitching begins and ends. You can wear me eloquently, but my fabric is not built for longevity if I'm thrown with other fabrics in the washer.

We are all ideals sometimes; we are assumed to be people of perfection and grace. Truly, we are not trophies or treasures at all. In actually, we are a mere pile of flesh and bones, and I am a soul longing for a kindred spirit to behold me in my transparency and desire to know the parts that are laced with flaw and shortcomings.

Ideals undo one's mortality by creating temporary fantasy out of flesh. It's a tragic truth for all parties involved. Those who have been assumed to be a pinnacle of perfection can never live up to their name, and those who create the beastly fantasy are never satisfied with a flawed reality...

If we could only love and see with open eyes and willing hearts.


Saturday, July 9, 2011


July is the month of choice
Where things come and go,
The tides rise and fall
Just like the heat waves
Come and go.

Catch the Current
Or be tossed by the wind,
The tides rise and fall
Just like scattered beats
Of Heart-Strings.

I avoid the extremes of July 103's
That plague the air around
I avoid the extremes
Of the Ball-Game
The card-game
Where I find the King of Hearts
Only to possess the Two of Spades.

The tides rise and fall,
The emotions toss and turn,
The mind is in and out
Your spirit is in a chess match
Like July is in heat.

Everything is like a circle
Things are and are not what they seem.


Sunday, April 3, 2011


1. A natural habitat, sphere of activity, environment, etc.
2. An entity satisfies all the conditions of belonging to a given set.
3. A part that goes into the making of a complete set or compound.

I have become brilliant in living outside my element. I have grown accustomed to existing in a realm which is not my natural atmosphere. I have learned the delicate balance between an element, call, and passion. I have lived in a world outside my prone likings for the past couple of years, and I would be a fool to say it has been all bad; I've actually enjoyed a good portion of my time in this new habitat, and the new surroundings have stretched and grown me beyond what I once thought capable. I am learning to make a current element THE element, which means I am still in the process of adjusting.

Many of you know there was a very large portion of my life (12 years to be relatively exact) where I pursued Broadway. I lived it, I breathed it, I fought for it, I sweat for it, I ached for it...I desired it with a passion beyond words. Most children decide what they want to be when they grow up around the age of five, then they choose a few more times before the age of ten. Not me. I knew what I wanted from the moment I watched the Sound of Music; I wanted to be a star. I wanted to live my life on a stage. I wanted to play the role of someone new each day; I wanted to be on Broadway amidst the streets of New York, singing in the rain, and dancing merrily along. Though the childish fantasy matured, the dream never changed. I vehemently pursued my dream of being on Broadway for years, and never stopped believing I could make it. Long story short, the Lord had different plans for my life, and at 17--having lived my whole life directing my college career and goals on one thing, the door to Broadway was shut. I knew my calling was ministry (which I must confess, I was not exactly excited about at first), I knew my life was not going to be one of glamor, dance, and fame... and I knew I had to surrender my dreams and goals to the King of Kings in exchange for the plans HE had for me. Living your own dream can only be so fulfilling. Jesus has plans beyond my comprehension--and I'm still walking each day with Him figuring it out. It's a journey, and I'm a new traveler.
That is clearly the short version of the story, and if you want the more extended version of my testimony feel free to talk to me :).
All that aside, I've been given the amazing opportunity to help out with a few huge events on campus that are inside my element. One is the Night of Classics event, which is a fundraiser Jessup puts on every year for the music department. This year is a spotlight on broadway! I've gotten to sing some of my favorite pieces and come alongside some wonderful people to help choreograph and stage the event; I have had so much fun. I also am getting the opportunity to student-lead a new ensemble at Jessup that will perform some show tunes, contemporary, and modern pieces (kind of a show-choir type of vibe.) I feel enormously honored to have been asked to help with such an ensemble, and I'm so grateful God has given me the gift of these two things. However, in the past couple weeks I've experienced a few times of deep sadness...
I miss it so much.
To go from breathing something to living completely without it is slightly difficult, and I have to admit I haven't paused often enough to mourn the loss of such a huge part of my life. I also have also undergone a good amount of teasing for it, which is fine and nothing I didn't expect (I did once exist in an all-theater reality, so it was nothing short of shocking....people who are not in theater don't understand people who are in it; It's like jocks and band kids. Ha Ha), but I will be honest and say the teasing has been an area of struggle. I don't think people understand how difficult it still sometimes is to live in this new reality while I'm still new on the journey towards ministry (which I adore and love), and away from the theater. The journey that up to this point has not included any writing, dancing, or acting. The journey that includes me learning a whole new different set of skills, the journey that is new.

I often feel as if I fight against the grain-- I hear it's an artist thing. Probably true. We are a tad emotional :). I just sometimes tire of the continual teasing when I am trying so hard to pursue the Lord while having a whole set of passion's that have gone untouched for far too long.

I'm having some pretty intense conversations with God about this topic, and He has been so faithful to comfort and assure me all my striving is not unnoticed or empty. He's also made it pretty clear my 'element' inside the arts is going to be used for His glory, and it will not be abandoned or lost: That is a huge source of comfort.

I am learning, I am growing, and I am just a young woman who loves the Lord with all her heart is trying her hardest to live a life abandoned to Him.

So, God.... Where to from Here?


Friday, March 11, 2011

Life, Love, and Kombucha

Ello' Friends,

My name is Rachel Jackson, and I am in the continual process of surrendering my life to my maker Jesus Christ. That to say, the last month of my life has been insanely busy, wonderful, and inspiring. It is crazy what a few solid decisions can do. I'm learning to decide things instead of ponder them into the grave, and I am learning the Lord's will is a lot less narrow than I thought. The Lord's will is anything I do that will bring Glory to His name, He desires me to live in passion, love, and peace, and I can honestly say I am in the pursuit of doing such. What a marvelous place to be: Health. Normalcy. Peace that surpasses understanding. Choosing to live my life free and redeemed is an absolute treasure. For the first time, I feel like I'm finally grasping the phrase, Lord, I belong to You. I'm also learning Jesus sincerely wants me to have fun. He likes to laugh, He likes to dance, and He loves exactly who I am--good, bad, vegan, and cupcake frenzied. Truly He is such a wonderful creator, and my best friend.

The Lord always has my best interest in mind. He has known from the beginning exactly where He wants me, and with everything I've experienced and learned, how much more Glory can I bring Him as a child who now stands unashamed, free, and redeemed? I was leading worship last night at The Shore, and we sang one of my favorite songs, "How He Loves." Previously, my favorite lines had been, "He loves like a hurricane, I am a tree bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy." Yesterday, I found my new favorite line--because it is where I have chosen to live...
I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He loves me.

How amazing is the love of God that continually covers all--He doesn't remember the things we regret, so why should we? I would much rather exist in marvelous love Christ offers than to dwell in the person I no longer am.

For you visual learners, here's my past wonderful moth in picturesque form

The nicest human being on the entire planet =)

My unbelievable job (where I surrounded by people I absolutely adore.)

And on that note, my only vegan/health plug for the day is Kombucha. It's amazing, and full of probiotics and living organisms. You should try some.

Go Raw.


Monday, March 7, 2011

Life from the Podium

You stand on a platform
So much larger than you
And still you search for the words to say
As stuttering becomes you

Life from the podium
Makes your words grow
In your throat as you search
Search for the time to say
What you mean
And say it hot

But everyone is always watching
As you stand on what's beneath you

It is hard to have a million gazes transfixed on your being
But say it like you mean it
And perhaps the masses will believe the words that fall like
From the chords that trap the voice

Don't worry--
They watch, though they do not understand
They say what they do not know
They speak what they have not heard
They assume what their mind

They pretend to know the answer
From the life on the floor

But the limelight burns the eyes
And the podium weakens the knees
The timing is held by clocks
And tick tick tick

You're up next.


Friday, March 4, 2011

The Art of Coconut Milk and Learning

Why Hello Faithful Blogger Friends; It's been a while.

I've had one of those life-moments where I realize the only time I sit down is when I'm driving. Luckily, I drive a fair amount. I don't know why, but I always forget how insane life gets mid-semester. Life is about to go back to normal again, and I have successfully kept my head above water. (To me, not drowning=success) I even made sure to turn in homework for WEDNESDAY on MONDAY. Beautiful, right? I was quite pleased with myself.

On to Better things:

I have one more month left of being a vegan, and I have to be honest, I'm just now starting to get into the pattern of it. I'm learning what I like, and what makes me puke (Chick'nless strips? Nasty.), and I'm learning what food has made me feel like I'm on top of the world. As I'm reaching the end of this bucket-list journey I've discovered a few things:
1. I think I'm sensitive to dairy
2. I don't do well with large amounts of soy
3. I feel so much better when I'm healthy all the time.
4. I think I'm basically just going to stay a vegan... but become less inclusive (I.e. If I go over to someone's house for dinner, I'm not going to refuse the muffin's because they have an egg in them. I think hospitality is grand.)However, when I'm doing my own shopping, I'm relatively certain I'm going to keep my vegan habits relatively the same. It is certainly my preferred lifestyle, It's kind to the environment, I'm not consuming processed and chemically enhanced foods, and it is a constant reminder to check up on my health habits.

Checking off something on the bucket list, as crazy and non-nonsensical as it was, has been a huge growth experience for me. I've already written about some of the social challenges, so I won't bore you again =). Just know I've learned quite a bit about myself through this process.

On to Better and Bigger Things:
I am in the midst of learning a huge Spiritual lesson. I am learning to stop asking God "why," and start asking God, "How can I be used in this situation to bring You the most glory possible?" God's plan is bigger and better than mine (Shocker.) God's thoughts aren't my thoughts, and His ways aren't my ways.

And that's a snapshot of my life =).


Friday, February 18, 2011

Strictly Shallow and Splendid

In my other life, I feel like I might have been a model or a fashion designer. Why? Because I love fashion. Unfortunately, I'm neither 80 lbs or a brilliant sketch artist. Instead of walking the runway or designing groundbreaking fashions, I figure I'll just dress like I'm important... or blog about the things I want to own. Like this:

How beautiful is she?! I want everything in this photo; including the deer. I love the vintage vibe the dress gives off, and the headband? The headband is glorious.

Anyways, this is a rather shallow blog (Which means I'm in Romans and I'm trying to justify the odd clothes I enjoy wearing), but I wanted to give you a piece of my love for fashion and all things vintage, naturish and splendid.

Enjoy your day; Pet a deer.

(If you want to read a great fashion-centered blog, go to --she's my super trendy and fashionable friend. And she loves pugs. That's all.)

Friday, February 4, 2011

Holy Exhaustion, batman.

For the past week, I've had the privilege of being involved in the William Jessup University Choir recording. Though it has been the most invigorating moments of my year (so far), it has also been one of the most exhausting. I love music. I love the feeling of putting passion into notes and experiencing joy through the reverberations of the human voice. I love choir--and yes, I love band camp. I was (and am) that kid who eats her lunch in the band room, and frequently plays the 'guess that pitch' game. I've finally reached the point where I embrace that fact.

My choir professor has grown me exponentially this week. I feel like there was a moment last night where my mind finally 'got it.' I understood the role of section lead, I understood and grasped the need to be present, I felt the emotion, and experienced the grandness of feeling like I had finally gotten 'it.' That 'it' the sopranos, tenors, altos, and basses desire. Twas' a beautiful week. I love music.

However, four hours of recording a night, coupled with school and work has taken it's tole on my REM cycle. I think I have maybe slept five hours a night, and I'll confess I am probably under-showered (I'm a musician, it's okay...I'm like Regina Spektor; grunge is in.) and I am definitely over-caffeinated. Needless to say, I have already decided to take Monday off. Perhaps this is not the academically 'wisest' decision, but I'm attempting to learn the balance of academia and personal health--spiritual, emotional, and otherwise. I have been in the place where I've wrung myself dry and operated on empty, and I've decided that's not a place I desire to live. I need to take time to recharge. If that means taking a day off school or work every once in a great while, so be it. (I want to live my life as if everything is a remarkable adventure.)

I have exciting plans for Monday that are wrapped around a person and not at all around a schedule. I couldn't be more excited. I have come leaps and bounds from February of last year, and it is by the grace and blessings of Christ that I am not only standing, but thriving. It is remarkable to me that He continues to be the restorer of the broken, the peace to the restless, and the wellspring to the dry and thirsty.

I am exhausted and sleep-deprived, but I am so excited with everything the Lord is doing in my life. From Jesus, to Bayside, to choir, to veganism, to school, and to spontaneous endeavors, I am so happy with where my life is, and where it is headed. (Holy comas, batman.)

With that said, it is time to get back to the daily grind that I love so much. I hope you all have a fantastic week. Hug a stranger, do something crazy, bake a cupcake... love the life you're in and put Christ into everything you do. Cheers.


Friday, January 28, 2011

Veganism: Issues, Sick Tats, and Wonder

I have now been a vegan for 28 days. Applause is welcome and appreciated. Though I went into this process well studied and vitamin supplemented, I did not fully prepare myself for the social aspect of veganism that would inevitably accompany my nutrition changes.

In the course of 28 days I have encountered three separate types of waitresses:

1. The fellow vegetarian or vegan(extremist-view): She usually has a really beautiful fairy tattoo on her right shoulder, or a checklist tattoo on her left forearm--it is there she writes in pen (on the permanent line) to update her Peta-supported blog entitled 'Meat is for the Uneducated.' She speaks in a softer tone and smirks often when asked about the soy-content in the soup base. She enjoys long walks in nature and has either a golden retriever or a cat rescued from the streets of Sacramento. When you walk into her restaurant she can tell in a flash who follows the ways of veganism, and who is ignorant; she then bases her sarcasm content around such knowledge. However, she likes 'Boy Meets World' just like the rest of humanity, and from time to time has accidentally killed a spider.
(pity, really.)

2. The Carnivore: She wears her hair up in a ponytail and loves strawberry smuckers lipgloss. She played soccer in high school, and she has had a steady job for over a year. She's a smart lady who enjoys laughing and intellectual debate from time to time.She has perfected the art of 'the nod.' She usually raises her eyebrow when the phrase 'vegan' is uttered from someone's lips. She then asks the question, 'so, meat, no dairy?' Now, here is where things get confusing. To some female carnivores, veganism is like mutiny of all things good. They usually decide they no longer want to give you the time of day, and sometimes try to give you things you can't eat. ("You said NO milk? I thought you said POUR on the milk. You should just eat it, you'll be fine"...true story.) Or there is the carnivore that is merely confused about such a nutrition endeavor, and decides to get over it. The one who hates vegans is not the nicest human.

Now, I realize this carnivore-vegan dispute is most likely related to the carnivore's natural disposition to animal rights groups that attempt to protest naked in front of KFC. The Vegan thinks the carnivore is a murderer, the carnivore thinks the vegan is mentally unstable. (Both are true in separate cases...I'm sure Charles Manson ate meat, and I'm sure some of the Peta people have some mental issues.) The carnivore's and vegan's are like the modern-day Indians and cowboys (we just don't get along.)

3. The Herbivore: She is accepting of all people, she desires to have a lengthy chat about your personal decision to avoid animals and animal bi-products. She usually wears at least one shade of yellow or green,and enjoys hiking and kashi cereal. Her favorite TV show is probably Gilmore Girls (let's be honest.)

(Clearly, I've stereotyped and generalized. Don't shoot the blogger, please.)

Now, for the other social consequences of being a vegan:

There have been people along this path that fully understand and support this crazy and nonsensical endeavor to try something exciting and new (check earlier blog posts for reasoning behind the madness. Hint: there's not a whole lot of reason.) They have come over for meals and been the Guinea Pig to my vegan cooking experiments. They have laughed with me about my 'hemp protein powder' and searched diligently for a chocolate substitute that doesn't taste like spinach. (I'm a woman. I have chocolate needs.)

There have also been other types of people: people that feel it's necessary to talk me out of it because meat, dairy, eggs, and honey are clearly the way to live. To scoff at every new experience, and even some who find themselves legitimately concerned about my emotional health. Though these people have been real sources of 'Grace-growing' in my life, I will be honest and say there have been a few times where I've either been irritated enough to visualize shoving a vegan cupcake in their eye, or hurt enough to feel discouraged and maybe even embarrassed.

Hilariousness and sensitivity aside, being a vegan has turned out to be one of the best spontaneous and nonsensical ideas I've ever had. Through this process, I'm learning the art of being on a continual fast from the foods I crave, and in turn I learn to have multiple conversations with God throughout the day about how much I would really love a friggin piece of pizza. It is there I am actually ministered to. It is there I learn to lean on God for the little things I crave. My food deprivation makes me desire something beyond myself. It's a beautiful thing.

Socially, I learn to take everything with a grain of salt: I learn patience, I learn to laugh, I learn to cry, I learn to eat vegan cake and find beauty in the lack of eggs and butter. Trivial, and perhaps somewhat mad, but it's been an enormous struggle for me. I care deeply about people's opinion of me; I'll be honest... I would really love it if everything thought I was the most awesome thing since sushi. I'm being broken about this gradually. I don't want to desire the approval of men, I want to desire the approval of Jesus alone. I have a feeling He's the guy who's helping me find a chocolate alternative and laughing when I purchase hemp protein powder. He's the guy who's cheering me on, and telling me it's okay to cry over the lack of spilled milk.

I know I've said it before, but I'll reiterate it for the sake of clarity. Being a vegan was on my bucket list.... just because =). But it is so indicative of my God to take a 'Rachel just because' and turn it into a spiritual growing opportunity.
I love this journey. Who knows, maybe I'll even get a to-do list tattoo, but probably not; I've always really wanted a hummingbird.

Happy Endeavors, everyone. Try to make this, or something. (Beautiful.)


Friday, January 14, 2011

Hold It.

I have to fight it. The urge to say the name, to utter what would undo me. I have to fight it. The want to let my muscles do their bidding without my mind's control; to let emotion fly free on a handle with that 20 letter phrase that beats in my pulse. So absolutely precious to me, hopefully without it's echoing eternity in the struggle against control. But I have to fight it. I want a day to come when my sword can elegantly lie at home, away from the battle of this daily grind. I thought I had made it to the end, but there is so much more left to say, or maybe words are not enough, as they never were, to cover the scope of something beyond comprehension.

Oh, I want to scream. I want to throw a punch, or run towards the boulder. I want to let the leech roam free, yet it is always stuck to the left side of my chest, holding on to it's life-source. I don't always notice the vermin, until I realize I am weak from loss of something precious. Oh, I want to fight, but I am so tired of the battle. I am far too out of shape.

I have to fight it.

A twenty letter phrase never left such an impact over 1,825 days.

This is still being fought. Hold it in.


Thursday, January 6, 2011

I'm Like a Bird...

This past month has been a whirlwind of chaos in every way possible. From holidays to havens, I've been in and out of chaos-driven surroundings for over 30 days now. So now it's time to rest and abstractly blog about the things I could not imagine processing... or something like that. Here's the artistic rendition of my past month in thought-light format.

I've always claimed if I were to be a bird, I would most certainly be the hummingbird. Why, you ask? I'll explain. A hummingbird is not a caged bird, rather, it is a type of animal that is free to roam and yet still is much obliged to stop and share it's song with the beautiful passerby. It is not a selfish bird, yet it is independent and free; a bird who loves to spend it's time being an artist amidst the flowers and clouds.

This past month has been a windy one, and the gusts make it hard to travel in a single direction because it feels as though the wind is always changing it's course of action. How I long for a single east or west pattern, a direction that flows with longevity. Whenever my wings feel they have adjusted to the direction, the winds change... it is time for a new season, a new person, a new mark, a new scar. A new something. Consistency is not in the earth's vocabulary sometimes I guess.

I am a free bird--independent, and yet so dependent on my surroundings. I am a free-bird, and yet I am continually held back by the force of those things which I need to fly at full-capacity. I am a free-bird, certified adult with her fully-formed wings, yet I am still learning, still loving, still trying, and still suffering growing pains in the muscular area of my passionate pleas and longings.

I am a free bird, flying alongside my Savior and learning how to let Him take the lead so we can take flight with the least amount of resistance. The changing winds have never felt exciting until this bird was humming her song in any direction that would take her. I don't mind stopping at the feeding area long enough to let the passerby hear my song; perhaps he shall be encouraged at the blatant and yet sly display of artistry held in the passionate vocal chords of freedom in captivity.

Perhaps the changing winds are conducive to the growth I long for in the area of my heart's desire for longevity. Yes, perhaps.