twenty three

firefly thoughts, keeping me awake.
lightning bug summer, wishing to stay.

thunder is rumbling, the night is calm.
the heaven's tears hit the rooftops, in rhythm with my own.

saying goodbye, is not something I do.
I'd rather you kiss my eyes, while I say "see you soon."

see you soon.

twenty two/severely jumbled thoughts

"when I was nineteen, I wish I had..."
I never want those words to escape my mouth.
I only want to remember being young, so young, and reckless.

reckless.
unconcerned with the consequence of some action.
abandoning all caution.
living unbridled.

that all looks so foolish, but that's the magic of youth, I think.
it's not that we are beyond making mistakes.
we make many more mistakes than most people in the world.
I think a true liver knows deep down that the mistakes made in youth eventually turn into the reason they become "older and wiser."

so nineteen year old me, here's my advice to you:
live and love recklessly, always with truth and light on your mind.
you won't regret it.

questions

Why do I believe in God, this week, today, this month, this year, this season of my life?
What do I want the most? Why?
What do I fear the most? Why?

a thought.

I love summer Sundays.
Summer Sundays when you get home from a sunny church service, all air-conditioned and cold, and talk over the beautiful truths heard with your father about your Father.
Summer Sundays when you open your bedroom window after lunch and climb into bed with a good book. You read until the words muddle together and lazy, sleepy thoughts enter your head. Soft thunder sounds outside and grey clouds begin to occupy the sky. You pull your blanket closer to your face, mark your place in your book, and rest.
Summer Sundays when you wake up in the late afternoon to the the sound of light rain hitting the roof. You wash your face, make some tea, and drive to church again with the windows down to sit with an intimate little group in the large wooden sanctuary.
Summer Sundays when a teacher's voice fills the echoey hall while the sun sets slowly. The sky's a faint blue. The air is cool and damp, perfumed by the earth and the rain.
Summer Sundays when the twilight is spent picking raspberries and listening. Listening to the songs of little creatures in the woods. Listening to the secret whisperings of the green trees. Listening to the pulse of the cool blades of grass beneath your bare feet.
Summer Sundays when Monday is looking anything but blue.

twenty one

a tiny sting shoots through me as I touch my shoulders.
today I was simply kissed all over by the powerful sun.
an overwhelming warmth is pumped through my weak veins.
golden light drips down my eyelids and lingers on my lashes.
today I was simply held in the arms of the flirtatious wind.
he tugged at my hair and played with the hem of my dress.
I had quite a grand day, with my two lovers.
all the red on my shoulders is but the blush of my cheeks, a bit migrated perhaps.
perhaps dear, perhaps.

tossed hair, broken loves

dried flowers hanging from my window sill,
reminding me that I'm alive and well
if you give me your hand to hold,
I won't refuse it.
but if you give me your affection,
I swear, I'll just lose it.

forgive me for being cursed,
for I'm a daughter of Eve.
you can try to fix me,
but I can only love brokenly.

I am prone to getting things wrong
and not seeing things through.
if you can stand by this mess,
then I will try to love you.

you toss your hair,
the sun doesn't care,
so please put your hand in mine.
you assure me that you're a broken little boy.
so with our fractured hearts let's try to find joy.

reactionary

As the quiet rain is falling, I am surrounded by the fragrance of Earl Grey tea and scones baking in the oven.
Nothing could be lovelier.
As it is Mother's Day, you would think I would be sharing thoughts on mothers and how dear they are and how we cannot exist without them. While all of that is true, that's really not what's on my mind.
The other day my mom and I were having a discussion. That sounds like a way to disguise a fight, but we really were just discussing things. Disagreeing on some things, agreeing on others. It's kind of a normal happening.
Anyway, we were talking about how humans, just like anything else in the world, are generally reactionary. Especially when it comes to my generation's thoughts on the church, reactions could not play a bigger part.
Newton's law of motion (roughly... I learned it in middle school) states that for every action there is an equal or opposite reaction.
Humankind generally follows this law. We, like time, are always in motion, even when we feel we are stagnating.  Generally, children raised in strict church environments do one of two things: they abandon the church, or they follow faithfully in their parents footsteps. I say generally, because there are some exceptions to the "law". Children raised in loose churches or a non-church environment tend to reach out for more structure, or stay the same as always. So often, the reactions are largely said to be to the "church". In truth, the youth are reacting to the sinfulness of man (found everywhere) and the ultimate authority God has over our lives. I find this pattern in my own life and in my own heart. C.S. Lewis nails this human condition when he describes himself: "what mattered most of all was my deep-seated hatred of authority, my monstrous individualism, my lawlessness (Surprised by Joy, 171)." Our reactions are almost always dictated by our own or other's actions. Especially when Christ isn't involved, this sense of reactionism becomes heightened.
Why does this matter? Well, our reactionary nature makes it ever more wonderful that we don't serve a reactionary God. He reacts, yes. But His reactions are neither completely "equal or opposite". They're uniquely perfect and Holy, "faithful and just". He sees our sin and is not surprised. He sees the Son who died and loves us deeply because of the Son's bloodshed. His reaction is barely what's defined as a reaction, it's more like a positive reaction.
What a breathtaking picture of how God defies laws of man. Sorry Newton, you couldn't hold Him in.

journal entry/twenty

written yesterday.

Dear self,
you need a good talking to right now, so I'm going to give you one.
Stop. stop letting your heart get involved in every situation you're in.
don't let attraction dictate your reactions.
don't let your encouragement become affected words that stream from your mouth aimlessly and effortlessly.
press on to be closer to your Lord and don't forget to listen to what He says.
think always of what you can do for others to show your love.
be hopeful, self.
for sometimes I feel that you become quite helpless and hopeless.
don't become a person who keeps to herself. that's fatal.
be known and know others.
pursue others without having fear of what they think.
be gentle, kind, and content, always remembering why.
to lie with your actions or your assumed "selfs" is just like (if not worse than) lying with your lips.
speak always the truth, then, with yourself.
be careful and wise, but also be a tiny bit reckless-for fear is a crutch that stops you from living life fully.
let go. of you completely. I mean, for real, you are not your own anyway.
be free.
be a servant.
focus-above and on others.
be patient! waiting for things makes them even lovelier when they come.
breathe. drink more water. laugh more.
just let it be.
and live.
Sincerely,
self.

nineteen

your mouth tastes like ginger candy
tears fall from your muddled blue eyes
they sting both of our young faces
and they offer no disguise

summer kisses in my bedroom
light is streaming through the glass
birds are laughing, trees are clapping
do they know that nothing lasts?

holding hands down some deserted
neighborhood, dead-end street
we stare down the two sad faces
in the puddles beneath our feet

when we're older, will we linger?
will we travel the same roads?
will I love you, will you care dear?
oh my darling, only God knows.

we must always hope. always hope.

Hey I don't mind whatever you're going through.

Summer is here.
Summer, the word itself has an aftertaste of pink lemonade, cold water, and fudge pops. It hints of laughing with children at camp, laughing with friends in Haiti, and in general, lots of laughing.
I am so excited to laugh too much and to be happy again.
I feel like all I ever do is complain about how hard my life is. The truth is, everybody's life is hard on different levels. And compared to many people, my life is extremely comfortable.
Regardless.
This school year has been hard.
I told someone the other day that if a person came up to me and read my life to myself from the end of last summer to now-I wouldn't believe it.

I have too many thoughts running in my head about time and how it's dream-like when you start really thinking about it and about loving people properly in spite of being so broken myself and about how much my little decisions may effect other people in bigger ways than I intended.

If my life up to this point has taught me anything, it's been these things:

Love others truly. In the end, relationships are all we have in the concrete world.
There's nothing but the blood of Jesus. Without Christ and the Gospel there's no hope. None at all. And that's terrifying and comforting at the same time.
Living a selfless, God-centered life can happen in any circumstance. I don't have to travel the world to find people to love and share Jesus. I need to keep telling myself that because I get discontented sometimes with my current situation.
Speak only the truth. It sets you free.

So now onto golden summer.



p.s. this song is the title.