Things that pierced my brain...

I hate when I'm antsy. I want to go a million places at once. Usually I don't care about the destination just the journey. Being restless for me also means, wanting to say something but not knowing how. So I am saying something but I guess it''s all a bit of nothing. But I'm hoping the ants will leave from my fingertips and rest up on my screen. My mind is going crazy right now. I don't know why. I was going to go run it out but the workout room is closed and it's too cold out. Bah Humbug.

My thoughts make me restless. And I have a test tomorrow. But I don't want to learn about various approaches to literature. I just want to read my book and listen to Aaron Roche and some Priscilla Ahn. Maybe if I write some of the things I'm thinking about it will be better. Let's see.

-God is good.
-People being upset at me for no reason pisses me off.
-Studying makes my mind mushy.
-The crappy hours in the workout room don't make me happy.
-Read the book, Fearfully and Wonderfully Made. It's pretty sweet.
-I want to play the guitar.
-I want to learn how to play the guitar.
-I miss Sabbath. Sometimes I think I spend my week in a kind of mourning for it. Not good.
-I had an awesome time with God this morning, we haven't had one of those in a while.
-Favortism (of people) is for lameos.
-I wish I was more elequent.
-I wish I could spell.
-Should I be an English and Psych major?
-Why is there a feminist theory? Why is there a queer theory? Why is there a Marxist theory? Why are there so many freakin' theories?????!!!!
-Why do I like these things so much ex. ... ... Are they called Elipses?(...)
-Why am I not studying?
-I want a limeaide.
-I think I'm going to get one.
-I want to take pictures.

Peace. And be strengthened. We will be rescued. The war has been won.

Patton Towers.

I went to Patton Towers today. On the Lord's Sabbath day. I heard a wonderful message about agape love. All encompassing love, unconditional love, willing to die for love. And it was beautiful. I went to Patton Towers today. And for those of you who don't know it, it's not the best part of downtown, the richest people don't live there. But what I witnessed there was worth it's weight in gold. I saw people who where poor and dirty and cold and they smelled funny. But they were the most beautiful people I have ever seen. And I mean that with every drop of blood, every bone in my body. I was blessed by going to Patton Towers. There was this woman, Mary, I wish I would have talked to her more. She couldn't walk right, one of her eyes were shut, she could barely talk but with what she was able to say she was praising Jesus. I asked her how she was, "Alive and kicking, praise Jesus," she said.

Praise Jesus. Praise Jesus. Praise Jesus. I must have heard it a thousand times from the lips that were cracked because they were so cold. Hands that hadn't been washed and had just finished smoking a cigarette to warm themselves up, were lifted praising Jesus. Praise Jesus. These people don't know about theology. These people don't know every word in the Bible. These people do not know the pillars of Adventism but what these people do know about, what these beautiful, real, people taught me about, was Jesus. When the glorious feet of Jesus walked this green earth I'm sure one of his many stops would have been at Patton Towers. He would have sang with them, prayed with them, and listened to them. And He would have gotten down on His knees and taken off their dirty sneakers and washed their feet. Our King, Maker of the Universe, Tamer of the seas, would have gotten on His knees and washed OUR dirt filled feet. And guess what? He probably wouldn't have had a bottle of germ-x right next to Him. Something I was regretting I didn't bring.

Oh yes, these lovely people taught me something today. They taught me about my Jesus. I was humbled at Patton Towers.

Body Parts and Cornicopias...Just for you Michelle.

I had a splendiforus weekend with my familia. My mom's the best momma in the whole wide world. Yes I guess I could be a little biased but that's my unbiased opinion. My family's crazy. Their loud and they argue and they laugh and their the best. My weekend with my fam got me to thinking about other family's. About church family's. I've never really had a church family. My parents are divorced so I always went to different churches. And in my teenage years I 'rebelled' against going to church. I liked God but didn't like the church. "The church is a whore and it is my mother." -St. Augustine. Which I think it's true, but whatever, I digress, I got over it and now I cannot imagine my life without church.

The thing is that I'm in college and although I usually go to Collegedale church I'm not a member. I don't help out there. My face and amen's aren't missed when I'm not there. I don't have a set pew I sit in. I don't know all the old people or play with all the children. I don't get asked how am I doing, really doing by people. People are very nice, yes, but I am not a member. I am a member of the body of Christ but where am I in the body? The fingernails? The hair follicles? Where are all the knee caps? All the other toes? Am I part of them? Where is my church family? Do I find them or they find me? I want one to adopt me. I want a church to think I am wonderful and to need me.

So churches, I sent out my adoption papers, if you need me and are less than fifteen minutes away I'll be your daughter. :]

Nice guy in a suit. A relational Jesus.

My mother taught me how to pray: I do.
My father taught me what to say: I do.
They said to go to church each week,
And listen to the preacher speak; I do.
My dean has taught me modesty,
To wear my skirt below the knee; I do.
Life and Teachings helps me too:
I learned Acts 3 verse 22.

Every night at nine o'clock,
Good kids meet to pray in bands; I do.
We sing, "If you're happy and you know it,
Clap your hands"; I do.
I do these things most every day,
My dean, she says I've found the way.

Let's see. Clap your hands, go to church,
Say a prayer, learn a verse -I'm saved. Yipee!
What did you say? Jesus Christ? Who's He?
-Anonymous

Relational: concerning the way in which two or more people or things are connected.

How are you connected to Christ?

A Slug and the Best Cake Ever

I was thinking about marriage today. I was thinking why in the world do I want it so bad? Why in the world does everyone want it so bad? And thanks to the book, Searching for God knows what, I figured part of it out. The book was saying how we all need affirmation and love. And people do all sorts of crazy things to find it. Whether it be sex, drugs, alcohol, education, anything and everything can be used to fill the void. A void that is there because of our separation from God. Think about it. Why do we care so much about, how we look, how we do in school, whether we're likable, and a million other things. We seek love, we seek affirmation from the people around us.

When we are separated from God we look for counterfeit things to fill it. It's like a diamond necklace that has paste instead of diamonds. In a dark room it might fool some people but in the bright light it will never fool anyone. People think that if we have good parents that they can fill our love and acceptance quota. But they can't. Why else do we seek other ways of acceptance. Our parents are sinners, our friends are sinners, our significant others are sinners, we are sinners. We cannot be relieved from a tainted love. The only way we can ever breathe, true breaths, is by receiving the pure love of God. And some of us don't even accept what God has to offer.

My heart aches for those that don't know the only real love there is. Because everything else is a counterfeit. Yeah, it might feel real for a little bit but through time it will fade and show it's true colors. Now I'm not saying that our families and friends and so on don't really love us, because they do. But we will become disillusioned with their love. Their love can never satisfy. You know how leaves die when they aren't connected to their life source. They turn this really ugly ashy brown and shrivel up and die. Well thats what happens to us when we aren't connected to our Father.

One of the reasons I think people get married is because it is a nonverbal expression of acceptance, of love. It's like, this guy loved me so much he was willing to be with me the rest of his life. They picked my company over all the rest. They thought I was the best. But when we have God finding that type of love and acceptance is just the icing on an already awesome cake.

I don't know who will read this but I just want to let you know that God loves you. He thinks your the best. If their was a team and you were the captain He would want to be on your team. He would want to ask you to that banquet. He would want to sit beside you in class, call you at night and talk to you. He thinks your amazing and as proof He gave you a field of sunflowers. God loves you. If you were running a marathon He would be cheering for you. These are all lame scenarios but I don't know how else to get across that the Maker of the Universe, the Ruler of EVERYTHING wants and loves and needs you. Your special. Your loved. And your worth so much that Jesus became human. I haven't even gotten to the dying part yet. He came from a place so perfect to a place that is a dump compared to Heaven. He in essence became a slug. A slug? Yeah, a slug. Because A GOD, THE GOD came down and became this tiny, insignificant, ugly, human. Because compared to the glory of God we can't be that great looking, especially after what we have done to ourselves through sin.

We are worth a lot. Why? Because God deemed it necessary enough to send His Son to die on the cross for us. We are loved. Don't throw His love away on things that are counterfeit. Please. Enjoy the 100%, genuine, real deal, love that God is offering us.

For real.

I screamed at my Father today. I feel so guilty. My heart aches and my mind races with what I have done. Oh, I didn't scream at him with my voice by with my impatience. I told Him what I wanted and when I wanted it. And He kindly said, not now. And I had to stop myself from pulling the hair from my scalp. I feel like I've waited for years and years but He said, what's a few more? And I felt like He was being insensitive. I felt like He didn't want to fulfill my needs. As I write this I laugh because my Father, my Maker, knows exactly what I need and when I need it. Yet, I doubted Him. Yet, I doubt Him.

A more fickle or impatient person you'd be hard pressed to find. I rail at my Father telling Him all my demands and wanting them now. This instant. That is all I know. This instant. I want something I go buy it. I need something I go buy it. If I wait in line for more than five minutes I get frustrated. My friends, I need prayer. Pray for me and I'll pray for you.

God is my protecter. He knows all my fears. God is my provider. He knows all my needs. God is my deliverer. He hears all my pleas. God is my friend. He listens to my cries and the water from His eyes fill rivers. He hears my laugh and the Earth shakes with His glee. He sees my brow troubled and He paints the flowers so that I might smile.

I write this and I write what I know. God is love and nothing less.

Truthful Recording?

Even private journals do not reveal on their pages the writer's sinful deeds. Sometimes the conflicts with evil are recorded, but usually only when the right has gained the victory. But they may contain a faithful account of praiseworthy acts and noble endeavors; this, too, when the writer honestly intends to keep a faithful journal of his life. It is next to a human impossibility to lay open our faults for the possible inspection of our friends.

- Ellen G. White, Testimonies Vol. 4

So true.

Giant

I saw this tree. It was huge. The leaves were all the shades of green you could imagine. The roots could be seen, you know those types of roots that you trip over? Yea, well these were really big. I looked at the tree and I thought of Pocahantas. You know Mother Willow or whatever that tree's name is. This tree reminded me of her. I thought of the tree whispering all the secrets it has seen. And when the branches swayed I felt like it was whispering to me. Freaky. I thought of how majestic trees are. And I thought how this one must be the Queen of trees or at least the great grandmother of the trees. The tree was soothing, it was forboding, it was inviting. I had the strongest urge to climb the limbs of this tree and put my cheek against it's bark. And let it's quiet strength feed me strength.

If I believed in reincarnation I would want to come back as that tree. All the lovers lean on it, all the children climb it, and all the birds build their nests in it. This tree has seen my grandparents grow old, this tree has inspired poems, this tree has seen beauty. This tree is beauty. It has seen terrible things yet it stands tall. It has gone through terrible winters, and horrible storms; yet it stands firm. A more courageous tree I have yet to see.

I thought about the hands that formed this giant and I wondered how big they were. I imagined Gods hands separating each branch from the other and curving and twisting them as if they were wires. I imagined Him thinking of leaves and then having them appear in His enormous hands and His breath, the breath of life, blew them onto the empty branches. And I saw the leaves gently falling and filling the branches and when they met, the leaves rustled and sighed as if they were happy to be home.

This tree made me think of God. How God stands firm through time. How He has seen horrible things and yet He is unmoving. The promises He spoke thousands of years ago can still be claimed today. I took comfort in the solace that the tree offered. I took comfort in my God.

Alien

It has been three days since I murdered the Man. The sun has beaten my face with its outstreached arms. The rocks that I walk upon claw at my feet to the point were they are bloodied. My lips are parched, they are cracked and feel like the sand paper father would use to smooth the tables he carved. I wish I was dead. Ever since I hammered His hand to that tree I have wished myself dead over and over.

As I was walking on the fourth day I saw a girl. She appeared to be my age, she looked worn. She looked as if she to wanted to die. We came upon eachother. It had been so long since I last used my voice my words came out gruff and low. I asked her where she was going. And she shrugged. I asked her if she was by herself. She nodded. I asked her why she was walking all by herself and she turned away from me. I called to her to wait. I was so thirsty it felt like bees were stinging my throat. She turned around. Can I tell you why I am walking? I asked her. I had to tell someone what I had done. Maybe saying it outloud would somehow make a little of the pain leave my mind. I told her. But I didn't look at her as I said it. I told her I murdered an innocent man. She told me to look at her. I did. She lifted her hands and they were as crimson as mine. I cried. I was disgusted with myself. I felt relief that she had done the same thing as me. Relief! How can I feel relief? She cried as well. We didn't hug each other but we walked together. Not talking just silently weeping.

It seems that misery does love company.