When The Shoe Fits

So R&K, they came and left. And, well, it was great.

I love how natural our friendship is. Honestly, I rarely see them and we hardly ever talk. Emails are sporadic and even when my computer was functioning, Skype conversations were at best occasional. Even when I finally found them at the airport, it was this nonchalant, "Oh hey. Cool. You're here," and then we picked up from where we never left off.

It was so refreshing to finally be around people who get me. I guess I had forgotten what that felt like. B asked me, "How do you feel life differs when people get you?" Well, I suppose when you process life aloud to them, if they didn't already somehow know it all, at the very least they know where you're coming from and they get why you think and feel the way you do. It's just...inherent. And then there's the glorious "no shame" dimension devoid of embarrassment and in which absolutely free are you from fear of judgment. Who the hell cares when you know they love you no matter what, right?


So many forgotten little personality nuances came rushing back to me both in increments of small whispers and strong gusts of winds alike. Things you have come to love about someone, learned to love, struggled to love; facets that range from those you want to shout to the world to those you feel the urge to defend. I don't know. To me, that's part of 'getting it.' Loving that stuff and letting people love your stuff unashamedly. Therein lies the beauty of friendships just meant to be.


Wah. I can't wait to go home.

"We always thought you were mature and down-to-earth but apparently, not in everything."

Hm. Imperfection. Novel concept.

She Had It Comin'

I need to get back to Christ. I've been so obsessed lately about how much I've changed this year and the new "me" I've become that I suddenly think I can manage on my own. I've been so focused on being semi-rebellious for once in my life, a little euro-crazy, trying to separate myself from my former goody goody church girl self, that these days, God and the role He plays in my life is nearly a hinderance. What the heck? Where would I even be without Him? Clearly, the state of most things in my life right now is a plain example of the emptiness and fruitlessness of a pursuit of life devoid of God.

I have changed a lot this year though, and while I've made my mistakes, I daresay, most of it has been for the better. Nonetheless, where I am currently is not where I want to be at all. The mental, physical, emotional, spiritual state of things at the moment shows me that God still has so much farther to take me. I want freedom from the chains of complacency that hold me from experiencing the even greater or better yet, the absolute very best.

I have 69 days left. That's over two months. I know God can (and will) rock so much more in that time. I hate getting to the point of things where all I have left is to ask Him to break my heart because every other time I have done so, man, has He brought it. The end product is always beautiful, satisfying, fulfilling. Naturally. But the process is so painful. I'm no masochist arrogantly praying to hurt, but I know that often times I don't truly learn until God burns and scrapes and cuts and breaks.

Even now, I want to continue to write verbose sentences to avoid saying what I really need to. In my finite human mind, I only see the immediate struggle and heartache with no patience and wisdom of the ultimate good to sustain me. And though I know I will falter (and badly so) and will need to humbly remind myself again and again...I trust God.

So, God, *takes a deep breath* break my heart.

I don't want to remain in this disgusting state. I want freedom to live, to love, to worship. In a genuine, honoring, and steadfast manner. Break my heart, begin me anew, and refine me to the point of 'perfection.' (06/05/2008)


And so it begins...

Ode To Beginnings

Mmmm. Early mornings (well, as "early" as you can get being a 20-year-old living in Barcelona, Spain) with no particularly pressing agenda or commitments and the small bubble that is my life quiet and still just peacefully mine. As close as this flat has come to a notion of home, I can't wait to spend these hours in California. I can already taste the skies cloudy at dawn, sharp salt air, soft hooded sweatshirts, the Pacific Ocean breaking on the shore...

This morning I spent the first few hours visiting an old, familiar but unknown world. Reconnection (via the most unromantic means of Facebook), even in a most static way, has brought my worlds of past and present into a collision of surreality.

Besides TL, BC (BJ now, I suppose) was the girl I wanted to be and maybe still do. I have these strangely distinct hallway memories of my first youth retreat, of the occasional conversations in various CEC locales, of desiring to embody that same beauty, that same depth of faith. To this day, I still remember what the cover of her journal looked like...

Perusing through her xanga entries spanning the last four years, so many thoughts are stirred within me. The ability to write well--to exude eloquence and beauty and novelty of thought through the means of written--continues to be something that powerfully captures my respect. I've been going back and forth about starting a new blog for awhile now, but hadn't been able to conjure up a good enough rationale or justification. Don't think I have even now.

Too fine is the line between knowingly sharing with the public what is real and genuine in my life and consciously writing to please. I know the minute I discover the demographics of my audience, my writing is immediately affected, intentional or not. In most cases, I believe the true beauty and value in heart-inspired thoughts lie in their original, raw state, unadulterated by the vulnerabilities of openly sharing. Why are the ramblings of my personal journal not sufficient? Is it the secret (or not so secret?) desire for validation and affirmation? Or simply the search for a means of revealing dimensions of life I'd otherwise be incapable of sharing?

As I continue to work through these debates and no doubt post-then-delete entries, here goes nothing...about half a penny's worth of thoughts.