Anger is a vicious liar.

But what can you feel when you want to just be angry?

How do you react when someone biologically determined to love you is full of shit?

Ode to Truthful Writing

Dear Shauna.

I know this may sound odd and just a bit creepy, but I think you became my “friend” at just the right time. Somewhere in the deeper, and more obsessively creepy areas of my soul I feel like I could never be thankful enough for more truthful and colorful writing. As if it is a secret meant especially for me.

There are quiet moments when I realize that books are a special kind of friend to me. Like a reflection of the life I need to know, of places and loves and losses that need to be added to the running tab of stories I keep in my heart. Somehow, that ragged comfy green chair in the corner of my living room brings me to another place entirely when I am holding a book in my hand, a cup of tea in my other and sitting at just the right angle.It is then, with truthful and deep writing staring me straight in the eyeballs, I can really let be what is.

In moments when I need to be reminded that love and loss are as equally linked as passion and pain, I find it written there.

In moments where I need the solidarity of the choices I made in college and the woman I am facing today, the moments where I recognize that at my best my strengths have created a more beautiful earth and at my worst my weaknesses have wounded people as if I have laser-eyes, I find it written here.

When I need to remember how to love him, Jared, that is. How to hold his hand and just be. How to say just the right thing or smile and rest on his shoulder just the right way, or how to say “you are my family and my love.” I see it spoken there.

If insecurity is fighting its way through my too-soft-around-the-edges body, or my talk-too-much-love-too-little brain, I see a glimmer of hope for myself here.

When I need to be reminded that at my most radiant it is about loving people not pleasing them, creating not demolishing, eating and tasting not depriving, I see something truthful speaking in those pages.

There is a solidarity that I do not deserve and cannot explain in between the painted cardboard binding of books. There is a place for me to cry without embarrassingly wiping up my tears and apologizing.

There is a place to imagine free of judgment and questions. But most importantly there is a place to be reminded of the woman I want to become. The way I want to live and love. The way I want passion and zest and to fight back when life starts kicking me. There is a way I want to grow up but stay young in my rawest, most tender parts.

There is beauty in truthful writing. A secret to be found and a smile that can only be shared with the black and white page before me. But, at the most perfect moment, this is all I need.

So thank you, Shauna, for being one of many who lets me creepily bond with your writing. Thank you for bearing your soul in such a way that truly, I believe, even if it is forever in the pages of my dearest books, we are kindred spirits.

Today I am remembering and re-learning, that sometimes passion feels a lot like pain.

Today, I am really struggling to accept my imperfections.

It isn't that I ever truly believe I am perfect, I mean lets be real, I am certain that thought has never even entered my mind. Entitled, better than, etc, sure. Perfect? never.

I find myself reading about other people, what they are struggling with or dealing with, and wishing so badly that I could struggle with those problems, rather than my own. Why is it that our problems always seem so impossibly large, or maybe make us feel so impossibly small? So small, indeed, that we look at what others hearts are breaking over and cry out in our soul, "if only that was all I had, things would just be simpler".

Perhaps I could overcome the things that make you fearful. But perhaps that is also the point.

When I was 12 years old, I quit gymnastics for the first time in...10 years. I quit because I was exhausted, spent, and bored. But mostly, I quit because I had been seriously injured for the first time and knew I never wanted to feel that way again. I quit because I was afraid. I was afraid that, even though I had survived the first pain, I may not survive the second. I gave up. I gave in. I know I was only 12, but what a telling instance of how I handle imperfections, how I face fear.

I may be able to face your fear for you, but I will never grow if I avoid mine. I will never be filled with the perfect wholeness of God because why, indeed, would I need his perfection if I had the ability to have my own?

Fear is nothing. It is a thought, an idea of something that isn't actually reality. How can something so intangible be so defining? How can I place all my eggs in the basket of fear and have none left for faith?

I am afraid so often to be honest, so envious of those who bear their souls and I see nothing but beauty. What if I bear mine and you find it disgusting and repulsive? What if you know me only to reject me with your nose in the air at my sin?

I am struggling today. But in the end, I know what always wins.

hmmmm

sometimes my brain surprises me with how little it is willing to let in.

"knock knock little brain, there is always something to learn."

Lord, make my brain wanna learn things. May I seek you all of my days...

Some areas that have construction cones on them:

1. Being wrong. man, do I ever need to stop getting punched in the face by this one.

2. Staying in touch with people. If I could find the switch that was turned off in my infancy to responsibility and the talent of managing more than 5 relationships at once, I would flip that sucker back on. The truth is, when I try to do more than work, live, and relate to a total of 5, my eyes start to turn into death razors and I accidentally set the world on fire. Hmmm...must reduce laser-vision.

3. Reading instructional material. Or maybe just reading instructions in general. But mostly reading (and finishing) books that are not fiction. It is an addiction.

4. Time management. Really. I mean, there are no words for how sad this area of my life is.

5. RE-diricting my rebellious spirit. It has to have some kind of good potential right? So how come it keeps getting me in trouble?

6. Encouragement. WHere did this part of me disappear to? And how do I get it back and stop eating peoples souls as a lil snacky snack?

7. Shopping. I need a less shallow, less expensive hobby.

8. Doing the things I feel in my spirit. Wearing that sundress, dancing when it is rainy. Laying in the grass when its warm doing nothing but snapping mental photographs and listening to heart changing music. Maybe with a glass of apple juice. Giving more to people. Extending my conversations past my mental limit. Reading more and watching less. Being braver, more creative and allowing myself to be just a little odd. Mmmm...it all sounds good to me.

Stories to tell...

I read this question today. "Looking at 2010, what has God made known to you, what have you learned." Because those lessons will shape who you are, not just in 2011, but for the rest of your life here.

So I thought maybe I will think through some of the things that have shaped me this year, old or new lessons, to see what God is doing right now. Mmmm I love a good reflection. Getting out my soul mirror...

1. "The only way we can truly authenticate ourselves as seekers and followers of Jesus is to measure ourselves by the life and teaching of Jesus. not by our leaders or our doctrinal statements--just Jesus. Not by what church or organization we are part of, but Jesus Himself." (Floyd McClung)

I am not sure there is much else to say here. If I could write a sentence to sum up what brings my soul to life, how I want to love people, what I wish the world knew about followers of Christ, and the foundation in my life that grows ever stronger as time passes, it would be this sentence. Too bad Floyd beat me to it. Seeing this, feeling the ache to do this in my soul, I regard it as the most challenging task that I have ever undertaken. Why? Because absolute truth is almost always skewed by opinion and interpretation. I am in no way claiming to know everything, in fact I am sure I know less each year. (Or maybe I just always knew this little and each year it becomes more obvious). Regardless. Jesus is not easy. Sacrificing wouldn't be sacrifice if it was easy to do. Escaping the idea of normalcy is an incredible task, but I just hope that I can continue to realize and live the idea that "it is for freedom Christ has set us free." It grows a bit harder each year and more inexplicably full of joy with each passing day. I love my God, I only hope that my life will emulate the love and truth He holds.

2. Faithfulness. This word is precious to me. Because over and over again, He has proven that my God is still my God, no matter the season or circumstance. Thank God. When I am a crazy; my God is still my God. When I am unsure and anxious; my God is still my God. When I am mean and nasty and hurtful; my God is still my God. When I am excited and sharing in joy and His presence; my God is still my God. Know why that is awesome? Because He is so much bigger than it all. He is master designer, creator, wisest of wise. I don't have to be anything for Him to be God. He has delivered me from living in condition. He gave me a husband who will be ever faithful and the truest of friends. He has given me friends who can forgive a multitude of mistakes. He has shown me in my scariest soul searching moments that He is conquerer and provider. In essence I am an ant trying to lift a log, instead of sit on one. And here comes a weird little kid who picks it up for me and moves it. Awesomeness. THanks for moving my logs, Jesus. (Let us hold unswervingly to the hope that we profess, for He who promised is FAITHFUL. -Hebrews 10:23)

3. Be where you are, no matter where that is. You may hate every second of it, but always know, there is something to learn here. And as ugly as you feel in those refining, sucky moments, as much as you feel like that awkward girl in braces at her first middle school dance, you are more beautiful than ever as you grow.

4. Sometimes, it is good to think long and hard before you speak. Words are more powerful than ever, in an era where spoken words are few and far between. Mean what you say, say what you mean. Put passion in your words because people will see who you are, and love well as you speak. But always, always, always use the brain God gave you, and think before you speak. You never know what your words could mean to someone.

5. I want a tree tattoo. I have always loved trees. But deeper than that. I have always loved trees in scripture. I love nature, I love that God crafted it with meaning and inspiration. It is like poetry to me, like meaning being hidden and twisted into each blade of grass, each leaf, each rock or piece of bark. But trees. O trees. They carry the most meaning to me. A tree is always a tree. It may have blooming periods, dark empty periods, barren or fruitful times. But a tree is always a tree. It continues to grow up towards the sky and down in the earth. It comes in many shapes and sizes, all with a different purpose and leaf. They may get sick, or be hospitable to a lonely animal. They are good for sitting next to or leaning on. They have secrets and adventure for you. I love trees. If I wasn't a human, I think I would be a tree. Because through it all, to my God, I will always be a "me-tree". No matter what season, how much growth, what my purpose, I will be full and content knowing that in His eyes I am always beloved, purposeful and beautiful. And knowing that even still, my God is my God.

Though the fig tree should not blossom

And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,

Yet I will exult in the LORD,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
The Lord GOD is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds' feet,
And makes me walk on my high places. (Habakkuk 3:17-19)

I love that there are so many pages unwritten.

In this story of my life, of our life, of God's story and plan.

I love that there is a "yet to be"...

there is more and I cannot stand in the way of that

There is so much about me that I know will never be good enough.

But thank God. Because I suppose He is good enough.

"I won't always love these selfish things..."

I am haunted. By something that is not mine.

But He is bigger. And thank God that He is.

I am learning that I am so crafted and unique, that I am who I should be.

I will not apologize for that ever again. Because

God has made me beautifully me.

And being "well-rounded" is not in the cards.

And I love that.