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.