Ashes

What's a girl to do when insomnia strikes, yet again? Sit. And think. I read poetry aloud for a bit, and while that more-likely-than-not sounds pretty cheesy, it was wonderfully entertaining. However, now I am trying to rest with the lights out to cause my eyes to grow tired, so I had to close my book. The florescent glow from the laptop screen fights against that anti-light action, huh?



I don't know that I have much to say, at least not that I can post online. I often wish there were no restraints in my expressing thoughts and emotion from the day, but any ounce of wisdom knows different. My poor friends. I tell ya, I've got the best ones - I have daily outburst of pure bliss and outraging anger all meshed together. My spectrum of emotion amazes me. I can end up grounded and with a godly attitude, but those first few moments (okay, at times hours) are outrageous. Honestly, I need to get better at that. There's something in my nature (maybe all of human nature) that feels the necessity of pouring out the heart, even when its harmful. It's like when people make themselves vomit to feel better when they have a woosy stomach. We make ourselves word-vomit in efforts to calm roaring emotions, but instead of giving peace to the storm we form a habit of purging forth what should of remained inside. Deep breaths and a bit of ginger ale could solve the problem, really.

The things that get me "up in arms" should be no surprise. Before the summer began, God spoke to me clearly about throwing everything into the fire. It would be a time of testing, to see what would burn and what would remain. Yet while I understood the season of tossing aside what I held onto, I didn't prepare myself for watching the fire ravish what I once held dear. I almost want to run into the flames to rescue what's not already turned to ashes, but I know I can't. I must sit, silently; This trial must run its course. There's nothing I can do, but count it as loss for the sake of knowing Him.


....But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Jesus Christ. All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. Philippians 3


Over and out.

Toothpaste and Adulthood

I haven't slept in days. I keep typing and deleting, unsure of what exactly it is I'm trying to say. When I'm sleep deprived (which I think its currently the worst its ever been), my mind develops a mental block when searching for words. If you ever watched the show "Doug" on Nickelodeon it's like I'm Skeeter's dad - He would always say, "Can you pass me the uh....uh....uh...." until another person chimed in "the butter?". I wish I had someone in my room right now to finish my thoughts, to fill in the blanks where my mind forces a pause upon my speech. It's a strange thing when my thoughts feel so empty, yet continue spinning wildly in some sort of windstorm at the same time. The feeling is much like when you stand motionless, but the room turns rapidly around you, as if there's a race to see who can spin their way into the center of the earth first. Paralyzed, yet out of control - the status of my thoughts exactly.

I brushed my teeth in the shower a few minutes ago. I've never done that before, yet I had the sudden urge to tonight. This new way of accomplishing an every-day task probably won't make its way into my routine. The water is hot - it's like brushing your teeth with coffee. And tooth paste was getting everywhere - I don't much appreciate it's consistency anywhere but my toothbrush. I'm glad I did it though - Giving into desires is my new thing. I suppose that could sound immoral in some way, but I haven't the energy to justify or define exactly what I mean. ...But you know - you crave a cookie, devour it. You feel like crying, let the crocodile tears roll. So on, and so forth.

Moving on...
When do we become adults? How do we know we've reached that certain point of maturity? Or is it that others notice this sudden wisdom, and that's how we know "its" been attained. I know God's spoken to me about making me into a woman this past year, and I can feel its affects and changes, however I still feel so young. As a child I imagined anyone married as being an adult. While, I'm not married - I am of age, but I don't feel as if I've reached some new point in my life where coffee doesn't taste so bitter and I get great pleasure out of vacuuming. ...And when walking down the isle to my husband, should that day come, I can't imagine the adult fairy dust filling the air. In fact, I imagine I'll feel quite the opposite - hoping and praying God's grace evidences itself more than ever. My parents always tell me they still feel like teenagers, perhaps I inherited this Peter Pan gene from them. I wonder when Jesus felt He became a man - He certainly wasn't a resident of Never, Never Land. Oh, this awkward transition time of life - how long will it last?

Over and out.

Mermaids, and Unicorns and Snickerdoodles. Oh, my!

When I was a girl I dreamed of becoming a marine biologist, and at the seasoned age of fifty I would transition into a state Senator. I've always imagined and planned and dreamed. I knew just how I could accomplish such tasks, and I worked towards it. I wanted a boat, so I saved my pennies. I wanted to swim the dolphins, so I scooted off to Wilmington one summer to learn about jellyfish and the fascinating world of seaweed. Dream, and make plans; Create a blueprint and walk along the well-lit path.

Tonight I was pondering... Why were my dreams, even as a young child, so attainable? Now, owning a boat at age 5, and making it into office as a Senator is perhaps a bit below what many view as realistic. However, it is in the realm of the possible. Why didn't I talk about being a princess? Why didn't I want to ride a unicorn to school in the morning? Why were my Barbies making friends at "Scoops Icecream" instead of swimming through magical lands and being trapped in hidden dungeons. Then there's also this question: why am I so suddenly so caught up in what I know is not real. I, in all honesty, have thought about the beauty of a unicorn. I've thought about the dresses I'd wear if I rode one and the different journeys I'd take. I dream of a mermaid's life and beauty. I aspire to her long beautiful hair, and her without-a-care days.

The reasoning of my absurd thoughts:

I want to dream big enough that plans cannot even be made. I've planned, and re-planned for the entirety of my life. I've had plan "A", plan "B", plan "C", and plan "SUCK-nothing's working out and I'm desperate for any path". From now on my dreams will be so starry-nighted, I'll only know a mere direction in which I'll take a step. The penciled-in plans are erased and I'm going to run with the cards I've been dealt. ...Even if that means running blindly. I'll lose attachments to anything and everything. I hold so much close to my heart, and whatever rests in your heart roots itself in your life. I don't want to have roots, I want to be free. Empty handed, and a heart void of anything but solid truth. I'm setting my eye on eternity, princesses, Snickerdoodle (my labradoodle dog - I'll explain another day), and unicorns.

God, point me in a direction and let me go. Castles in the sky, and a chariot to take me to there. I realise I sound a bit Alice in Wonderland-ish, but I need it. I need dreams that require unwavering faith to become reality. I need hope for something more than the "American Dream". I want to taste fairy tales and feel joyous imperfection.

"I've got my life in a suitcase, and I'm ready to run, run, run away. Cause every day it feels like its only a game..."

Over and out.