The Right Words Said The Wrong Way

I didn't mean to make it sound like a joke. I said it sarcastically with a smirk though, so I guess you couldn't have taken it any other way. That's my fault. I was afraid you might think it was stupid. So I figured telling you with sarcasm would save me the ridicule and rejection I feared would follow. But now I wish you could have seen how honestly I meant what I said. I guess I'll write it here in hopes of being able to say it to your face someday. Or maybe, just maybe, you'll read my story for yourself.

The truth is that I am saved now. Saved from myself and saved from the destruction I was running full speed ahead towards. I am very different than the girl who walked into that restaurant almost a year ago. I am not angry or bitter like I was, and though I haven't quite figured out all the reasons why I had to hurt so badly, I've stopped living in the past, dwelling on it, and I have started moving forward. But none of it is even about me. It's about the Lover of my soul.

He loved me so much that he relentlessly chased me, even in my rebellion. And he longed to hold me so close to His heart, that he continued blessing me when I didn't deserve it. My Lover pursued me like no other, even while I was a harlot chasing lovers that would never satisfy. He found me captivating and lovely when all I could see in the mirror was filth and worthlessness. And when I finally turned to embrace Him, His love began to change me.

He is still changing me, chipping away at all the things that don't belong, reshaping me into His image, hammering away at all the things that still need to be fixed and creating within me a picture of Beauty I cannot begin to fathom. He's not finished with me yet. That's why I still mess up. I still have my moments when the wrong words come out, or the right words come out in the wrong way, like today. And I'm still learning to fight fear and insecurities. But that is the miracle, I think. The miracle isn't that I'm perfect now. The miracle is that my imperfection is a perfect example of how amazing His love is. The fact that a Perfect God would chose to spend so much time on me in order that I might be a better example of everything He is-- that's what I find miraculous.

I just pray that you might encounter that Love fully. I pray you get the chance to fall into the arms of the One who is also chasing you relentlessly. I pray you have the chance to look past religion and experience the beauty of a relationship. I know you said you talk to God. I pray you're able to hear Him talking back. I pray you know how much He loves you, because I know He really does.

Meet Me

Meet me at the lakefront
With an ice cream cone at sunset
And as the day ends
I will tell you about my life now
And the years you missed out on

Meet me at the play ground
Don't forget your baseball glove
And I'll tell you about the hand I wanted to hold
While everything was crashing down around me

Meet me in the parking lot of my elementary school
Where we once sat talking
About all I had learned and read
And I'll tell you about the books I'm reading now

Meet me in the old shed
Where we once began to build a house
It was never finished though...
Left as incomplete and splintered
As our relationship is today

Meet me in another world
Where pain and scars can disappear
And I'll tell you I forgive you now
Maybe things can be set right again

Meet me once again, if you only dare
And tell me that you're really sorry
Show me that you care
Because I always wanted a Daddy

I wanted to spin into your arms
To feel safe inside them and protected
To know that I am loved
To be wanted


Just meet me.

Loving Imperfectly

I know I should have come to You sooner. I remember when I was little and I was first learning to help out with household chores. Every time I had to empty the dishwasher, it seemed I would break a dish on accident. I remember hiding it from my mom because I didn't want her to be angry. She was always angrier that I didn't tell her sooner.

I feel like that now. A little kid, trying to pick up her mess before You have the chance to see it... pricking my fingers on the broken glass and hoping You don't notice the blood. But You always see my mess; You always notice the pain it causes me as I try to be self-sufficient and take care of it all myself. Why don't I ever call Your name when the dish first hits the floor?

I review the words I once wrote. With terrible grammar and the perspective of a child, I tried to find reasons for the pain I was going through, and I knew You had to be involved somehow. I tried to decipher if You were an enemy or a friend, and I wanted more than anything else just to trust You. But every time I started believing that You were hearing my prayers, another wave would take me off my feet and I would question all over again Your love for me.

I don't think I question Your love for me anymore. I think I question my ability to love You back. It's not that I don't want to love You, I just want to love You perfectly while I am still imperfect. And though my head seems to understand that it's not possible, my heart won't make since of it quite yet. I could never love You perfectly. Not in this lifetime anyway. And so I fail to love You at all because I'm too busy trying to find the formula for perfection.

I forget that You saved me in my imperfections, and You loved me in my brokenness. You helped me because I was helpless, and You gave me a purpose when everyone else saw only a lost cause. If You wanted someone perfect, You would have never chosen me. I need to trust that Your grace is sufficient for me. I am trying to believe that.

But right now I just see all my shortcomings and all the ways I don't measure up. I see all the ways I've let You down- or maybe I've just let myself down. I see my scars and I see my patterns, and I fear falling into another cyclical race against time. But this time, I know You are real and I know You love me.

But do I love You enough to give up everything and follow You? I want to love You more.

I think it's kind of ironic. I used to question Your love for me. Now I question my love for You. I wonder, do You ever question my love for You too?

Beautiful Contradiction (For Romi)

She stood there with us each morning. With her accented English and flashcards in hand, she repeatedly declined our invitations. It was then that I noticed her. We were only strangers and I was only curious, but you used those mornings to help me see her through your eyes.

I felt like Saul on the road to Damascus. I believed I was living righteously for you, but I wasn't. And just like Saul I was not worthy of the mission you gave me. But my worth meant nothing in your grace. You used me to bring her close to you even before I knew you as Savior.

I did like Paul and became as she was. Football games, Halloween parties, and paint fumes brought us together in friendship. And I never stopped inviting her. Eventually she accepted and we all held hands in prayer to you. I began inviting her to youth group, and eventually she accepted that too.

Then the miraculous happened and I saw your hand move. January 5th was another Wednesday in which I religiously showed up and knelt at your feet, crying the same predictable prayer. It was one more service- like all the others- that I came to serve people in my own abilities rather than be used in your service.

But for her it was the day true life began. "I want to serve God with my whole heart and soul," she said. And my heart leapt with joy as she finally accepted your invitation. She fell in love with you while I was blindly still so far from you. I thought I became her big sister that day.... And yet today she is mine.

I love perspective because it gives me the opportunity to see life through so many different lenses.

In her lens I was her leader, a teacher, a wise friend with effective prayer and fierce faith.

In my view, I was the one who "got her saved." And with foolish pride I thought I'd be her inspiration and idol.

But now I am seeing what you saw that night. That night you set into motion the perfect example of the older serving the younger and the younger leading the older. I didn't know it then, but you began a story that would humble me. Though I thought I'd be pouring into her, it is in fact me who is learning so much from her.

Her faith in you even when she couldn't see anything promising in this world still amazes me. The fact that she has trusted you with so much in so little time is so beautiful. I hope to have her faith someday. Her commitment to remain pure in your sight among peers who aren't and her conviction to confess her belief in your existence when so many around her don't know you is a testimony of the strength you've given her.

I set out thinking she was the desperate lost soul in need of you and I would be the "faithful servant" who would bring her to you. But no. I was merely a stick you used to start the flame in her and then was thrown out among the debris. The miracle is that her fire for you joined with the rest of the light I followed to finally find my way home. In this world I am older and somehow that's supposed to mean I know more. But in your kingdom she is really my big sister and that is such a beautiful contradiction.

My Biggest Fear

We went around in a circle, each sharing a fear we have... And for a moment I wasn't sure I had an answer. Then I remembered that recurring dream. To them it must have seemed silly... almost a sad attempt to avoid an honest response. But it was so deeply honest that I'm still thinking about it a day later.

I'm driving in the dead of night and I drive up one side of an overpass... But when I get to the top, the rest of the road is gone and I fall into a black abyss. The fear I feel as my car plummets into the dark unknown is the scariest feeling of my life. Even though it's only a dream, I still awake shaking, sweating, making sure I'm not dead.

"So you're afraid of the horizon?" he asked.

 All these years I've wondered what this dream meant. I've wondered why it bothers me so much and yet I've never really heard such a profound interpretation. In the moment he asked me, I played it off with a smile. But now I realize how perfect- whether he meant it or not- that interpretation is.

The fear of what lies ahead, the fear of tomorrow, the fear of the future. It is the one thing that worries me more than anything. I guess because I've never felt secure. I've always felt like a drifter, uprooted and dislocated. Moving all around and never finding a place I could call home. I remember when I was called a "refugee" after Katrina... that word made me so angry. And yet that's how I feel I see myself- a vagabond, a wanderer, one who will never settle down and commit to something solid... someone who is running from something.

I guess my biggest fear is not knowing what my future is. I fear that I'm still running. I feel like I've been running so long that I no longer know what I am running from or running towards. I know I committed to follow You, Abba... but I don't know where I'm following you to. And that scares me. I still question who it is you're calling me to be and I'm still looking for my purpose in this world. A part of me is so afraid that I'll never figure it out. I feel like I've been so sure so often and let down each time that the fear of another disappointment makes me neglect to really seek what I should be after. What should I be chasing after?

I don't want to run from Truth, but I don't want to chase a lie either. I need a sign that the life I'm living and the choices I'm making are bringing me closer to the destiny you have for me. I need to know that this is not another futile attempt to gain the applause of those around me. I'm not asking to see the full picture... but can you show me a little glimpse of what is to come?

Our Song

That was the night the music stopped playing for me. The melody You'd been singing over me ended as I turned my ears to the noise of this world. So young, but I though I knew everything. My suitcase was packed with everything I thought I needed, I said goodbye to her, not knowing when we'd meet again. My heart was breaking, quickly resembling the cracked up sidewalk beneath my tiny feet. I felt deserted, abandoned, left to fight for myself, and it was then that I quit listening to the rhythm of Your heartbeat and began to dance to the beat of my own drum.

They dared me to do it, to bleed in front of them. And I wanted them to see that I was hurting. I couldn't tell them why- secrets weren't so safe with sisters. But I thought if maybe they saw how damaged I was, they could love me blindly through it.

Azure Ray played "November" in my ears, as the room spun in circles and visions danced in my head. I saw the life I had always known and waited helplessly for it all to smash to pieces. Your voice was drowned out by the sound of the levees breaching, and my memory was washed clean of the song We used to sing together.

From there the dirge of demons started, so deceivingly they'd play, with notes that sounded so sweet until I was in too deep. Then they'd all grow sour. The tune became foreboding, a cacophony of catastrophe swept me off my feet, as though they were playing to the scene of my final breath.

I tried to make it all make sense. I wrote line after line, trying to find my way back to Our song. But each line just left me desperate as each word became a silent scream that no one could hear. I couldn't sing anymore; my heart had forgotten Your graceful tune... so I stopped playing altogether.

And then one day I heard it, as though You'd been playing all along. It was faint, but it was there, only a whisper, but so familiar. I couldn't recognize it; the time had made me forget. But there was something about the way it was sung. I knew it could only be You. So I moved a little closer, then came the crescendo; a wondrous symphony of beauty rang out as you took me in Your arms.

I felt the drumbeats lure me in again. My heart was pounding in my chest, as all the words came back to me, the song You once sang over me. And we were singing together again, in a field of bright red roses. As instruments of heaven played sounds of perfect pitch, You called me Yours and I was home.

6/7

Our Home, Seven Years Later

The perfect storm came. Its waves flooded our lives and washed away the love that once held us so close together. That love was the cement; we were the bricks... together we shared holidays and birthdays, laughter and tears. I thought that we were waterproof. We never could have fathomed that the winds of change would come and knock us down, scattering us so far from each other.

We used to go places together. We each took on a special role that no one else could duplicate. We used to laugh together, play together, discover life together. Why did we stop eating together? Why did we let the dining room table survive the flood, only to be cluttered with junk? We no longer gather around it's water marked legs for meals or conversation. We used to play a game; we called it "Pass the Bowls." Or don't  you remember?

"We may not have it all together, but together we have it all." There was a time when we lived by that. There was a time before internet and iphones, when road trips required real patience and we didn't "plug up" our ears for our own solace. We didn't need cable- we would dance or skate on carpet. We spent time together, intentionally. Free fun was the best fun. Do you remember our family game nights?

We asked questions once. When everything came crashing down, that tiny sugar shack made us face each other. Crowded in a mirror, the four of us at dawn, we saw each of our reflections and we watched the masks come off as reality was dealt with. Walking down the driveway, an old dirt trail made us get along. It took a team to rebuild our house... But have we rebuilt our home yet? Home is where the heart is, and I fear our hearts lay lifeless now.

Is it too late for resurrection? Fourteen of us crowded in a restaurant closing at three... Christmas gifts unwrapped in a parking lot with no tree. Meals Ready to Eat alone on Christmas morning... What happened to the Santa Clause who came riding down the street in a fire truck with flashing lights for the whole neighborhood to see? Block parties became hollow hearts as words were left unspoken. A family that had everything... so much promise... is now broken.

But I know there must be more than this... We must remember how it was, spending time and taking time to remind what each is worth. I can't believe the bonds are gone, they're just buried by the years. All added up and piled along the streets like molded rubble. Can we uncover the treasure we once held so dear? If I told you that I love you, would you believe it? Would you say it back to me again?

Going to Extremes

I remember what it was like with them. My cell phone was always within reach. I constantly checked my messages; we were always in constant communication. I would do anything and everything I could for time with them. They were my good morning and good night. I was obsessed and I called it love. I spent money to be with them; I gave up sleep to talk to them. I was always anxious for just one more word or kiss... They were my life.

It seems like you should have taken that place in m y life. You should be my good morning and good night. You should be the one who makes me anxious. I should be in constant communication with you, always worried that I might miss an important call or text if I'm not paying attention. I should sacrifice my time and money for you; I should chase you till I'm exhausted. You should be my life now.

Have I missed something? What keeps me back from making you my everything? Why do I not insist on spending every waking moment in your presence? Is it shame of what others may think? I never cared when I was with them,. Is it because I don't believe you'll meet me? You always do. Maybe I just haven't grasped how real you are yet? But I know that you're real. Perhaps I take you for granted because I know how faithful you are. I don't want to take your faithfulness for granted though.

How is it that I placed so much faith in their "forevers," but when you say it, I cant trust you? What is it inside of me that keeps me from taking hold of all you have for me? What does it look like to live in relationship with you? How can I make you my everything?

How is it that my "love" for them brought me to such extremes? I nearly flew to a foreign country for one, and for the other I gave up so much of who I was... but I haven't given myself fully to you yet or gone places for your sake...

I want to treat you the way I treated them: Like nothing else is even close to being so important. I want to give you everything; I want to fall in love with you. I want you to be the face I seek each morning and the arms that hold me as I drift to sleep each night.. I want you to be real in my life, so real that I can't deny you, so real that even just a moment without you is painful. I want to need you more than anything and love you with everything I am.

Help me.

Deeper Still

I keep asking: Where are you? I always ask the questions I already know the answers to. You're here, where you always are, patiently waiting for me to come to you, to acknowledge your presence.

Where are you, though?

That's the question I'm afraid to face, because most days I'm not so sure. I'm distracted, I think.

Distracted by what?

Nothing... my own thoughts... they never stop.

Share them with me?

I want to go back.

Back to what?
 

Back to those hills, to that lake where you made the rain stop for me. Back to where you first helped me realize that all I wanted was to be used by you... back to that cold concrete floor where I knelt crying for hours as you showed me  your plans for my life. I want to go back and say yes; I wanted to say yes.

Why didn't you?

Because I was afraid.

Afraid of what?

Letting you down again or not being enough.

I am enough. You just have to be willing.

 I want to be willing. I think I'm too comfortable though. I've grown complacent in mediocrity. I don't know how to live a life that requires faith. How do I do it?

Do you trust me? 

I think so.
 

What else do you want to go back to? 

You always know when there's more... Can we go back to that field of white daisies? I want to dance with you again.

No.

 Why not?

Because we aren't going back. We're starting over. What we had before was superficial and religious. I'm giving you Truth now; I want to take you deeper and deeper still. 

But everything feels so gray and empty now. I feel like a dried up well. My passions are lost. I felt you in that field, Abba. We danced so effortlessly. You spun me in circles and I felt so safe with you there.

I know. But I want to take you to a field of roses now. Can you trust me?