Archive for July, 2011

July 24, 2011

Love

So there’s a Guy. And he loves me. And I love him. His name is Joseph. And he’s amazing and we’re excited. And God is at work for sheezy. And our story is very much in the works. Most girls would probably give you a formal introduction, but I’m not most girls, so you get a love letter from me to him…

Hey Baby,

Remember that day when we went to lunch? Date number… four was it? When I walked in and saw you at the very first table, and you popped up, all six feet eight inches of you. Your face, like you were seeing a very pretty ghost, so excited and kinda scared. You hugged me way too tight and you talked way too loud. And it was wonderful. And then we walked around that stupid shopping center, found the only little nook there was and I surprised you. With a kiss. And apparently you were not suspecting it at all, but it was pretty flippin’ awesome. Remember that? That was fun aye?

Almost as fun as date number one. Remember that?  You asked me to coffee, and one glowing recommendation from a friend later, I obliged. It was a good coffee, if a little hot. Yeah- a little hot and we were both hungry, and so date number one was immediately born. And over some Latin fusion cuisine we discovered how passionate we both were about the Bible and Wu-Tang and rough beats and Freedom and Jesus and sex (and not having it before marriage) and raising our children and reading and writing and people and food. And the whole silly thing was laughably magical.

To hear you tell it, I had you that first day, when I first walked in. You saw me and knew, that’s what you say. Know when you had me? That Thursday. When I was a mess, a very cute, ready for a date mess, but a little shaky  nonetheless. You walked in, eager as ever, ready for sushi and a movie. And I sat a ball of nerves, confused to be feeling so good, unsure if happy was right. And then- you asked me what was going on, and because He told me I could, I told you everything. And you- held me, carefully, like a brother I guess. You held me and I cried a little. And we sat silent. And peace rushed in where all the nerves had been. And then I knew.

But also, you had me the first time you played with my kids. You had me when my boys ran one Lego masterpiece after another to your side and you patiently admired every one. You had me when Emmy fell in love with you and you fell just as hard for her (isn’t she the most lovable girl in the world?). You had me when you had that first firm discussion with Gracie and she liked you even more than before.  

You have me. And you keep honoring that. Every time we are together. And it is so good, so easy to be loved by you.

Baby, also- you are the most eager greeter I have ever met in my life and I love it. Almost like you don’t even expect me to show up at all, and then when I do you are so awash in happy you don’t even know what to do but smile a big dopey smile for the first five minutes I’m there. Gosh you excel at making me feel loved.  

Know what else? I love arguing with you, debating I guess is a better term. I love that I can. I love that I learn, and you do too. I love that you fix my car, and mow the grass, and take naps on the couch while I make dinner. I love that you help with the dishes after dinner, (even if helping is a sly kiss on the neck with your arms around my waist).

I love that boy of yours. Gosh I love him. One day he’ll really let me, I’m sure of it.

I love that you miss me, and you help me, and you show me things, and you give me breaks, and hugs, and you make me laugh, and you get things for me off of the top shelf, and you love John Coltrane and Adele and  Nas, and you’re learning to dance. I love that you make me feel tiny and I love your protests that I am anything but tiny. I love your nerdiness, adore it. I love your bookworm ways, and your willingness to wear boot-cut jeans. I love the way you lead, me and you and our kids, our family.  I love that your height means my head falls on your chest every time you hold me, and I love the contrast of our skin. I love your never-ending, never quiet, never slight talk of the Gospel… I love all of it, all of you. Forever. No matter what. Okay? You know? I do.

Love and love,   
Me

(Much more to come. Promise)

July 23, 2011

Receiving

Here’s something silly I do: beat myself up about beating myself up. I’m terrible at cutting myself slack. And I totally get that having a little grace is pretty crucial, and still, I call myself an idiot when I don’t do it. And then I waste time feeling like an idiot and then I feel dumb for making myself feel like an idiot. It’s a super fun cycle. Also, it’s incredibly distracting.

If I’m wasting time in this cycle, there’s no way I’m going to have the energy to get to the root of the actual problem.  An issue has come up in the last few months that has totally thrown me for a loop- This Amazing Guy, my Amazing Friend’s hubs, he has become my friend. And for some reason that made me want to curl up in a ball and stare at the ground. And he is truly one of the greatest guys I’ve ever known, so curling up in a ball and staring at the ground made me feel- you guessed it- like an idiot.

In an effort to break out of the cycle I decided to try and explore the reason behind the freaking out. At first I only got as far as figuring out what I didn’t believe, even that was helpful though, working through the list of lies that I thought I might be thinking and checking off the ones that didn’t apply. I gave myself a little pat on the back and a break. And then I talked to Jesus about it, and before He helped me figure out the lie, He offered me a little grace. And I took it.

I’m not awesome at receiving grace (or love, really). (Working on it.) Fancy Nancy used to applaud me for being normal and it annoyed the crud out of me. “Please don’t congratulate my normalcy.” She was pretty insistent though, “Honey, you should not be normal. Your childhood, your marriage, should not have produced a normal person- and look at you! You’re doing so good!” Like my own personal grace dealer, she pushed kindness, affirmation and mercy on me every time I saw her, there was no refusing.  She taught me how to swallow the pill. And I learned to like it. It still isn’t my default though. (I really am working on it.)

Last week though, I went to Jesus and He offered me grace because I didn’t have any for myself, and I took it, stopped beating myself up for long enough to get to the root of the lie. And it. was. awesome. Maybe someday I’ll write about that whole process, but it’s way too dear to me right now.

I will say this- So much time was spent being anxious about being around this Amazing Guy and his Amazing Wife, and hunched over studying the floor when he was around, and then punishing myself for acting like a fool when I got home. So much energy was spent pushing through that anxiety and guilt to figure out what was wrong. And then so much grace, the best medicine I’ve ever swallowed, remedied the whole thing. And we had dinner last week, and grace gulped, and that lie disbelieved- I sat across from one of the best men I know, saw him and was seen, laughed, talked and sighed, and received buckets of knowledge, a hug, and loads of healing.

You guys- grace: Really good stuff. The best.

July 19, 2011

We Will All Be Changed

Paste at SXSW: [Video] Seryn :: Featured Videos.

“We can shape but can’t control these possibilities to grow
Weeds amongst the push and pull waiting on the wind to take us
We can write with ink and pen but we will sow with seeds instead
Starting with words we’ve said and we will all be changed”

July 18, 2011

changed

i think i thought the first man i ever knew
wrote dark words all over me with his dark hands
and i think i thought that anyone with the right
(or wrong i guess) set of eyes could read me
i think i thought i was what he wrote
thought he, all of them, loved me, that was Love

funny thing to find out how wrong you are about
something you’ve held onto your whole life
funny when being right seems so important
but the thing you think you’re right about is a lie, is death
and finding out you’re wrong means Life

maybe it’s not funny at all
being wrong
but it makes you laugh nonetheless
to see all those words washed away
to be wrong about yourself

to be Loved
and Know it
and Write it
and Read it
have it Shown to you
and Said to you
to Hear it
and See it

Changed.

July 12, 2011

Story: coming soon

You guys!! Have I got a story for you!! Sooooon. Promise. Until then I’m pulling my poetry stuff over here, because, seriously- who needs two blogs? Not me. I’ll be mixing in some old and new.  For now, here are two recent ones:

Story

this forgiven girl
flesh bared
head bowed
heart scarred and forgotten
holds hands hides eyes
stifles words better brought
into light
out of dark
hiding has never gotten her
anywhere but hidden
and hidden never helped

this One she thought Him
just like the others
then He knelt
scribbled words
up her spine
shivers
she felt more than saw
and free like a bird
into light He did draw
her hungry soul
with hands in the dirt
and then on the ground
fell tears full of hurt
and then on the ground
right where He knelt
fell all the chains
once she had felt

Run

long have i chased answers
longed for timeless truths
to tether me to ground unsteady

steadying though is that ground
and questions now
spill out of me and over me
and the grace that i am growing in allows it

the grace that He is showing me
becomes the answer

unwavering is His Truth
sure and steady is His grip
i am not lost or falling

not sure what to do but run
my feet my hands my eyes
let go of looking for anchors
and race instead towards sky

answers will not save me
questions will not bring me down
holding on so tight seems so unnecessary
when so much grace abounds

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