wild melody

it was a blessed day. God was kind. I'm grateful I took pictures. (except the pic of us w/ nana is from yesterday but I didn't have a photo of today's visit) bc right now the silence is whispering & I am desperately trying to fill my mind with lovely to keep it out.  I'm not good with silence  right now because all the quiet reminds me death is waiting.  I can't help picturing the book thief character...waiting. watching us.  knowing what we don't, being surprised at how unaware we seem. wondering at the foolish way hope sneaks in on days things seem so much better. its not like that. i know the gospel.  damn it. i don't want to mourn the living! i will not grieve while she is yet here for me to hug. pray for. sit with, speak to, laugh with-at... this is why i avoid silence right now. quiet has a voice, I can hear the wrecked days whispering at the edge of my consciousness. it knows how scared ...

what do you do, when you know it in your head...but your heart is unresponsive? I don't need preaching-I can probably tell you which book of the bible your fix-it bandaid or your sledgehammer conviction came from. yeah, I've to said it all. i thought hope wouldn't leave me. in all my darkness before, I've had small {sometimes painfully faint} existence of hope within. this time. nada. i fight to believe God is good. a rescuer, restorer of wasted time & making faithful the weary. but my heart stopped. & i never noticed. don't tell me to just believe. I know it's real intellectually...but deeper? I feel like God has done nothing. I KNOW its my perspective! but i can.not open my eyes of faith. so desperately want to remake the choice to always believe His Words no matter what my eyes see. i'd relive the hell of 2012 where I knew He was enough & I knew I treasured Him most over this apathy. my heart is so dead. what good is mental assent?  something...

this is not going to be well written bc I'm brain fried. just call it a rough draft, & sometime when I'm out of school I will write a much better version. I told Abi I'd blog about why I love flashpoint... it follows the strategic response unit (SRU) team 1 as they respond to 911 calls that are above everyday police ability. its got a psychological analysis angle, a human interest/personal story angle, sweet equipment, damn fine shooting, & a female sniper named Julianna O'Callahan. what's not to love?! ;)  now i should say, I'm not a tv person. I'll watch shows if they're on to be with people. but I get bored of tv quick. ive only ever followed Sherlock...& maybe Psych a bit bc i laugh out loud...sidetrack. anyway. one of my good friends family's can watch tv all day long, & I alway ended up doing dishes bc I'd think "I can't take anymore watching other people do things while I'm still!!" just to show how NOT a ...

i'm not editing this (not like i ever "edit" this writing) but i'm not even mentally pre-forming my words. sometimes i'm really sneaky at lying to myself. i don't like feelings so i'm not always in touch with my own. a silly thing for an introvert to say. sure i can over-think & psycho-analyze toooo death. _but_ it doesn't follow that i analyze my emotions. what i think is far more important, right? ;) when real things are happening i tend to shove it down. don't think don't go there don't feel. so i'm gonna spill my guts & maybe get a handle on what's really going on this lil person. i need honesty with myself and the Lord. i want so much to be brave & beautiful (on a deep character level). right now it doesn't look like i'll get there. that takes faith in Jesus, since both spring from vital, unshakable hope. i don't have hope right now. some days God fills me with it. but then i wonder later if it w...

here's the deal. spiritually, i ain't so hot. just sizzling. in a will-there-ever-be-water-again way. i'm in a desert something fierce, since Oct 2011. that's when i think it began. i noticed a distance, a parching. something was less-feeling in my walk with God. i thought maybe it was the boyfriend, but that ended and the heat didn't. i thought it was all in my head; "maybe i'm just hyped on experiences" or "i'm not listening enough". i thought it was depression, but God brought me through that with no renewal of the vibrant, living-waterness. there's been terrain change... pits, different sand, sometimes rocks underfoot. a few mirages, but no rain. no oasis. i tried to dissect where i went wrong. what sin is trapping me here. what mistake did i make...i tried getting out. i started faking. i've started to doubt if i ever even loved God. if God really ever conquered my heart. but in the past few months diff words have been sneak...

rough week. but last thursday, mum & i didn't think nana would live through the night and here she is doing better! praise Jesus for small miracles. there's been light, good moments. I want to focus on the beauty. so here are things I learned from spending every spare moment in Apopka with my dads family: 1) family means everything.  i didn't know how tight we really were. tragedy tears apart or brings together; we're together. of course, 4 sons with strong & different personalities plus 4 necessarily strong wives; there are bound to be a few small explosions... but. after the smoke clears, we pull together. division is not the lasting note. underneath it all there is strength & loyalty. I've been so impressed, encouraged, & grateful at the way my uncles & aunts & cousins dropped everything. they put their lives in wyoming & texas on pause. they've taken care of Nana and worked through rough days. everybody wants Nana to be happy. we ...

theme song: what Sarah said. I never thought I'd be living this song again so soon. I guess 5 years isn't that soon; but it feels that way.   goodbyes never get easier. watching someone die never gets easier, it's line a character in a tv show said recently: "normal? no. I see this all the time & it's the job; but it's never normal."  I don't have anything coherent to say. I just thought maybe a few words would release some of the ache.  I've seen every one of my aunts cry. ((& the daughters-in-law are not wimpy; only strong woman can marry my dad & his brothers)) but seeing my uncles cry kills me most. their hurt compounds my own heartbreak. these boys are not criers. they're hunters who drive big ole trucks, strong personalities & drinkers & tough & storytellers & crazy embelleshers & goofballs & dads. but not criers.  the way my oldest uncle, who has to be hurting even more than t...