Friday, April 25, 2014

notes on the notion of being fastened (in love).

i wrote this morning for the first time in months. i typed this out: "this has been the semester of things not working out." and then breathed a sigh.
that's not completely the truth. obviously there have been some joyful moments of smooth sailing and fun times.
but the majority of the time, it has been the case. papers, sculptures, classes, fun plans, seeing my family, and (most recently) wedding showers have just not been able to happen the way that i had hoped. sometimes that has been a good lesson of patience or submission to God's plan. sometimes it's only resulted crushing disappointment. i feel a little beaten at the close of this semester.

that said, a comforting truth has become quite real to me this week.
in the ever-popular hymn "come thou fount of every blessing," the author wrote these words:

praise the mount, i'm fixed upon it / mount of Thy redeeming love

as i said before, this semester-and really this year-has been a real doozy. it has left me spinning, straying, doubting, and pouting. i can openly acknowledge the fact that i have not been seeking Christ as i should. i have not felt His presence or heard His voice. but i am fixed upon the mount of His redeeming love.
the word "fixed" is defined as follows:

fixedfikst/adjective
1.fastened securely in position.
"a fixed iron ladder down the port side"
synonyms:fastened

i am so wide-eyed and wild in this season. i am frightened and running any way i think is going to bring me peace. i have longed for my Father and have lost faith in the fact He longs for me.
my heart has stopped conversing with my head and my knowledge of His goodness is overshadowed with my own feeling of being abandoned.
and yet.
i am fixed upon a great mountain of mercy, life, and redeeming love.
i am fastened securely in a position that was specially made for me long ago.
i am His and there is nothing in the world that is going to change that.
although i am not in yet in a season of sweet communion with the Father, i am at a new level of peace.
i know for a fact that He cannot turn His back on me. even when i wander and attempt to leave the God i love, i am all the while fastened tightly to His heart.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

april second.

bradford pear blossoms, daffodils, and those bushes with yellow flowers (that i can never remember the name of) hold such nostalgic thoughts within their petals and (in the case of the tree blossoms) musky scents: thoughts of running to my neighbors house, climbing pecan trees in texas, and endless biking trips around the neighborhood.

come april, everyone always writes that uplifting, but slightly trite post about spring. they write about the rebirth of the earth and nature's voice growing stronger. as i sit here, it seems so redundant to write about spring. but then again, there is a reason that there are millions of cliches surrounding that wished/prayed/longed-for season.

this winter, i have found my voice and my ideas waning into whispers and fleeting thoughts. life has been more difficult of a weight to carry and death has appeared like a sweet repose. continually, my eagerness to learn has mutated into a desire to get to graduation. my love for others has been muddied by my gross love of myself. even there, my love for myself has been muddied by lies and has been perverted to a strong dislike. what i'm trying to convey is the bleak darkness that has enveloped me. the snow has been beautiful and the white has appeared clean, but the lingering cold and the absence of sun has caused the happy parts of my life to collect dust.

and then came today. april second. a spring day.

the breeze and the warm sun has done my heart good. hearing nature's voice singing out amongst the trees and with the little birds has done my own voice good, for i want to join her. the vitamin d has done my body good. my thoughts remain quiet and feeble, and writing still is hard. but spring has just begun and little seedlings take so much time to grow.