hope doesn't stop the bleeding, it just makes it non-lethal

"brother, forgive me
we both know I'm the one to blame

when I saw my demons

I knew them well and welcomed them

but I'll come around


father, have mercy

I know that I have gone astray

when I saw my reflection
it was a stranger beneath my face

but I'l come around


when I touch the water

they tell me I could be set free

so I'll come around 

((the lament of eustace scrubb::oh hello's))

[theme song]

i had feels the first song in church this morning. f i r s t song people?! this is not the girl of 2012. i'm no longer a mentally unstable emotional wreck with no warning. but the back of my throat was tight and my heart was constricting. so caught off guard. i didn't know i was sad. oh geez. hidden hormones apparently, how awkward.

but it wasn't.

outta nowhere my heart was lifting up a lament to her Savior, one her mind had no idea was hiding in its depths. revealing, rather startling. but freeing. i have a reason, now, for heaviness that sometimes falls when i can't sleep. for the way certain scriptures about hope grab at my eyes. for why i have to remind myself i'm not in any sort of even hint of trial, so why do i keep wanting to focus on my "don't give up He's faithful" standbys? why am i so hungry for reassurance that "now" is _not_ forever? now is beautiful:
i love my family.
i'm making progress towards my goals.
i still have a kind-of job, even if all my income goes to gasoline.
i am well loved.
my best friends are still connected to me via technology and the loveliest of letters they send.
nobody relies on me for vital support
no relationship dictates my time or energy, i don't have the stresses and confusion of dating right now.


there are still things to grieve. there are good-byes that haven't fully repaired yet. the grieving of other hearts near and dear to me sometimes breathes out of them, when they don't know i'm paying attention. when they think their mask is on good and tight, but it slips a little. my heart aches for theirs too. i want to make it all better. i want to be part of the healing. i want to put my hands on the crimson pouring out of their hearts; stop it, to absorb all their pain. but i can't, my own hands are shaking too much. 
and that's ok. it's ok that my heart loves fiercely. it's ok that death slices to the very center of me. it's possible to have hope--to be grateful and rejoice in Jesus' defeat of death for the future--and still bear the emotional blow with a physical pain. the kind that leaves my sternum feeling as bruised as it did after a car accident. there is no shame if i take a long time to mend the fabric of my soul when it is rent. after all, these threads had been being knit together twenty-five years. 

God does not despise me for hurting. He understands temporary bereavement looks a lot bigger to those who have never tasted eternity. He is gracious. and healing. and if He works slow, why should i try to rush?


Finian the plant. (i'm picking up the habits of an elderly woman at 25)

this is Finian. aka the shamrock plant i came home to one day after school, the week before st patrick i think. mum knows how obsessed i am with all things Irish. (also how i secretly want to be a gardener, because i like dirt and color and fresh air and hard work) i named him because he's lived somehow for almost a month now. i thought an irish name was fitting, yeah? it brings me a smallish smile in my heart to see greenery and life in my bedroom every day. its a reminder that i'm still growing. that God is still in the business of planting, watering, feeding, renewing souls.
it's also a spark of distracting thought trains that never reach a logical conclusion. sometimes i get lost in thinking about aerobic respiration and what's going on in the miniscule cells of that little plant; not unlike (yet so different) what's going in on my own miniscule cells. but i have God's breath of life that creates (soul). pretty much the biggest difference in the definition of "life". then there's the whole "what about the mind and human cognition as opposed to animal's cognition" & wisps of mostly-forgotten philosophy from Kant, Bavinck, Kierkegaard getting confused in my mind...anyway. where was i?

today, life is beautiful because of:


 *how the sunlight plays in and out of the bush i should trim back from my window. it flirts with the handmade curtains, turning cream to gold. i picked the fabric because it reminds me of a bazaar in some exotic country, Turkey or Morocco. not that i've ever seen one. but i've been picturing it since dad brought me a wooden camel from Morocco, the year my first little brother learned to walk. maybe i was 5, or 6.

now i'm rambling...sometimes i think if i can write ramblish about what i see it will kick-start the writing that needs to happen about things i can't. not sure creative introspective writing leads into argumentative essays on hippotherapy though...

 *Ludovico Einaudi. i'm obsessed. this Italian piano composer's songs are just...full. there's a depth and richness in them. some of his songs evoke specific scenes in my head, stories written in the melodies and notes. takes my imagination to fantastic places. some day, i want to write a short story inspired by some of his songs. thank God for the gift of talented musicians.

 *three more weeks of school. i can make it. i have to make it. only one more killer paper and Comp I is over F O R E V E R

 *awareness of human trafficking is growing. but it's not just becoming fad to 'support' the cause. there are more people dedicating their lives to the fight. more people following Wilberforce's footsteps. more of an outcry being raised, the beginnings of real change perhaps? it'll be a long, hard, mundane, exhausting fight. but perhaps our generation will pass on enough headway for the next to deal the death blow. as much as that is possible, at least.

i think my brain is stuck on "spastic shuffle"!!