i started at christian union with a whole lot of arrogance.

i thought i knew things.

boy did i think i knew things.

actually i've started most things in life thinkin' i know a thing or two.

and this time, like every other, i have been humbled.

i know so little.

i realize that now.

life isn't about me.

things aren't as black and white as we'd like them to be.

my selfish ambition has been subdued by

turning on&off lights, putting out the conference phone, power washing the steps, printing and binding hundreds and hundreds of papers over and over and over again.

without that selfish ambition, i haven't the faintest idea what i'm supposed to be doing.

without my pride to protect me, i hesitate.

i feel naked.

it has been so long since i have stopped to think--really think--

what do i want?

i've been hiding what i want for so long for so many reasons.

the timing is wrong; my desires have been destructive; there isn't space;

in order to survive one must forget.

i forget who i am when so much of me is not required.

but life is awakening around me.

fresh air. green grass. buds showering the ground.

opportunities are coming for those around me

will it ever be my turn?

will the pieces ever fall into place?

when i take the time to think of all that i have been given,

i either feel overwhelmed or frustrated.

all that is teeming inside may be too much for this one life.

so often before, i've thought i know what is right--

what will satisfy.

how wrong i have been.

so wrong.

my heart calls for something more, but i haven't the faintest idea what it is.

i don't know what it looks like.

i don't know where it is.

God it must be out there.

please. please.

find it for me.

You have given me all of these gifts.

You have pruned this branch so much.

Will You give me a place to bloom?

I know there is so much more than my mediocre ideas and feeble attempts.

I am so easily distracted, so easily swayed.

but my heart is weary of distraction. it is weary of trying to see, explain, reason what is at the end of this tunnel. get me out of here. get me to the light.

push me. put me where You want me.

I'm throwing out my paradigm.

it just doesn't work anymore.

y'know it never really did.

there were always gaps.

but it was easier with it--

than without.

comforting, if you will.

concrete is easier than abstract.

boxes easier than open space.

stereotyping than getting to know someone.

but i'm done.

i'm done trying to figure it out.

i'm done trying to classify.

i'm done trying to systematize and rationalize.

it has just been ridiculous.

and sometimes it's been my fault.

as a matter of fact i've blamed myself a lot of the time.

but this last time it wasn't--

at all.

it wasn't anybody's.

it just was. ridiculous.

there are no words.

no one has any.

with each time i tell the story,

i am greeted with silence.

a little bit of awe, a little bit of shock and whole lot of head shaking.

and with each bit of silence, i can't help but laugh.

whatever is going on here is way over my head.

i have two choices.

i can bemoan my life and blame myself.

or I can laugh and trust my Creator.

For the first time, I do laugh--

and not with a cynical edge,

but with true joy.

Because I asked for a crazy life and He gave it to me.

I wanted to trust Him and with each passing experience I do.

And I finally FINALLY have a small grasp, a glimpse into the eternal.

And I genuinely believe with just an ounce of my being that what's coming has got to be awesome.

i wrote this back in november at the end of my week of travel. just realized i never actually posted it.

There is nothing quite like sitting in a nearly empty airport with smooth jazz playing…

It’s a little bit like being frozen in time.

There is neither here nor there.

Just waiting.

Patiently.

What I love about traveling:

It gives perspective.

It satisfies that little monster that roams within my soul.

It used to be exciting sights and new smells and tastes.

It has increasingly become the enjoyment of good company and the simplicity of life.

I am blessed.

I am increasingly becoming convinced that home truly is where the heart is.

And my heart does not lie in one physical location--

But in many with many individuals.

I’ve never lived in St. Louis, but the people make me feel like its my home.

I only spent a few years in Michigan but the people there make it my refuge.

New Jersey has only known my face for 2 years, but the people there will always hold pieces of my heart.

I will never live in a location that fully satisfies.

I will always want more.

But I also am coming to trust that I can always go see a bit more with people that I love.

People aren’t going to leave me.

Friendships do become sweeter with time.

Distance creates depth in those that are worthwhile.

My heart is full…

And looking forward to next time.

so i'm noticing a trend in conversations with my friends . . .
girl friends that is . . .

we all seem to have experienced similar conversations with guys--
almost like they were reading off of the same script.
and i've heard it indirectly more than once before.

at least it clarifies and reinforces for me that what was said wasn't as a result of something i did wrong. or because i'm ugly. or too emotional. or not enough. or--well, you get the point. though that is incredibly difficult not to do.

but it is discouraging.

what does it take for a guy to unravel himself from his own insecurities so he can see someone on the other side?
it'd be nice to not hear for once:
you deserve someone better.
or i have issues to work on.
or you don't want to deal with this.

dear Lord do you think i do this for kicks?
do you really?
do you think i put myself out there just to have you run away?
because i think you should know that i don't just throw myself out there. i don't pull this kinda thing. my instinct always says i'd rather be without--even when my heart says otherwise.

besides, do you think i'm looking for a perfect man?
do you really?
because i'm not.
i'm just looking for one who loves me in my mess and allows me to love him in his.

why is that so hard to find?

Saw a trucker the other day
Early in the morning
coffee in hand
thought to myself
What a life.

To roam free.
To escape life for awhile.
the road passes by.
Neither here nor there.
What a temptation for my roaming heart.

The more I contemplated
The faster my mind ran
Jumped--
Leaped--
To the possibilities.

A plane ticket
Or maybe at train
At least a day away
To a place familiar or unknown,
Just to get some space.

Travel is life outside of itself
Heightened--
With more vibrant colors,
Stronger tastes ,
Crisper smells.

And for once
I thought about bringing a few others along.
I guess I am growing up.
Not being such an isolationist.
Crazy.
Fleeting though it be.

I finally get my moment of silence…
And I can’t stand it.
The growling in my stomach might have something to do with it.
But I know it’s more than that.

Doesn’t matter how you put it
I’m left behind
With shadows of dashed possibilities

Ever the dreamer
Left high and dry
Yet again.

Not by choice
But by circumstance
Like someone is laughing
At my expense.

I delve deep
Drudging up old fears and insecurities
Only to beat them into submission.

Will I ever learn?
But I have.
Even if it can be hard to see.

For as much as I try,
I can’t deny a redemption that isn’t my own,
Even when it feels like life has cheated me.
For there is faith in a plan bigger than ourselves.

Guess what?
For once it isn’t my own doing
--or undoing.
And there is so much hope in that as well.

That maybe….
Just maybe…..
I’m a little bit closer than I was before.

God, how persistent can I be?
Seriously.
I should be giving up right about now.
No.
I should have given up years ago.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m just a glutton for punishment.
After all, how many shots does a girl really get?
Especially when so many are my own destructive acts of rebellion.
And then when one comes along who is actually good…
The wind rips it away.

But something other than myself
Doesn’t let me stay there.
Someone greater than myself gives me hope
When I really should have absolutely none.
And for that I am eternally grateful.

sidebar: i wonder what it is that makes a blog famous.

there are a few that i check up on pretty frequently-

ones that i found through friends of friends.

the writers are geniuses (in my humble opinion)

theveryworstmissionary.com

theorganicbirdblog.com

i mean i don't read crap. i'm rather picky actually. i don't waste my eyes/time for nothing--

well except grad school research. sigh.

all that scientific crap makes a soul thirsty for words that have, well, soul. but anyways--

that's not really what i wanted write about...entirely.

it is...and it's not.

i'm reading a lot of things that tell me what's wrong with the world in this graduate-school-stage-of-life. social work is all too often more about diagnosing the problem than actually solving it. after all, we have a whole manual of disorders. some of them really make me wonder if we know what a healthy person looks like in our western society. or if this whole act of classifying is really doing us any good.

by creating more and more disorders to classify what is 'wrong' with people, we also let them off the hook. we give them an excuse not to take responsibility for their actions, especially parents for their children. i fully recognize and believe that there are individuals with chemical imbalances that contribute to their perspective on the world and how they cope with stress. we live in an incredibly broken world--physically, emotionally, and mentally. can't be a social worker and deny that.

but somehow i wonder if we're missing the point (and i suppose a humanistic degree such as social work would miss this point). for instead of diagnosing the individual to give them an excuse, or at the very least an explanation, for their behavior, emotions, or mental state, shouldn't it drive us to wonder what the root of the problem really is?

all of these disorders are only symptoms of a much deeper issue. they beg us to ask the questions: what does a healthy human being look like? how does an emotionally stable individual behave? what are healthy relationships made of?

for how can we call these individuals broken without taking a fine tooth comb to our own lives?

in the same token, i've also been experiencing a lot of criticism, not of myself in particular, but of life by those around me outside of the social work program. and it begs me to ask the same question: how can you call these individuals wrong/weird/broken/lost without examining your own life?

where has our humility gone?

behind our good intentions lurks a pride we dare deny;

a self-righteousness clothed in humanistic efforts to save others.

why?

because we have deemed them in need of saving.

when maybe they have been placed here to show us that we are the ones really in need of saving.

i long for words of life and truth--words with soul that are honest and transparent. the criticism, it drains me. it leaves me empty and hollow. the judgment--parched. the self-righteousness--weary. dear God, how we need life to flow through our words.

may life flow through mine.