Great Expectations

Awaking with gentle sunshine on my face, and without that sense of morning exhaustion that I am so used to these days; I feel good about today. I need a big, fat cup of coffee in a minute. And I think one of my friends wanted to work out this morning. But I need to take a moment, while I have a moment, and enjoy the sunshine and the feeling that I finally rested enough to enjoy the day and live it well.

I think life is just about to get better... I can feel it right now, in my half-conscious state, and underneath all my sleepiness I am excited about the change. I have been coming dangerously close to settling in to mediocre. But God and I have a deal about that... I've promised to get my lazy butt up and keep moving whenever I notice I may be settling for less, and He says He's got something better for me if I just don't give up. I know we can't really make deals with God that way, because you can't earn anything on your own strength, but I'm telling you, this one works! Its like tithe, Man. Miracles happen.

I even got annoyed last week, when I was just reading random verses in the Bible and I came across the one that says: "Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due time you will reap..." But I AM weary!! I cried, I can't help it!!! I have grow quite weary, actually. That is a perfect description of how I have felt of late. But God, more than anyone, knows that I am human and knows my limits and my potential and knows (Lord, help me in my unbelief) what He is doing. Right? Because if that isn't true, then I'm wasting my time with another "god" who isn't really God, and I don't want to go back there.

I want, very much, to move forward in life. And yet, in "growing up," I am so afraid of losing that childlike faith in me. I have seen it fade as I move towards accepting the "real world," and while it is true that I am growing up and I want to be responsible, does that mean that I have to lose my heart in the process? Isn't that what's killing the writer in me? Because, after all, this isn't exactly quality literature, folks. It's okay... I know already. :) I'm just doing the only thing I know to do, and that's to keep writing no matter what...

But how long has it been since I really, honestly believed? How long since I thought I saw a gnome in the grass or "knew" there was pirate treasure buried in the sand beneath my toes? Am I growing cynical? Calloused? I feel torn between two worlds and I can't keep my foot inside both of them. I don't know how. So do I have to just pick one? But I can't bear to lose the one I'll have to lose if I choose "reality." I am just not convinced that that's what's really real...

Sometimes I sort through my own thoughts by writing them down, and that's what this has turned into. So I apologize, to anyone who doesn't know me, or doesn't know me well. But I have been given this imagination that has made the traditional ideas of growing up very difficult for me. I have no problem with taking care of myself and paying my own bills and voting and doing my taxes. For someone as scatterbrained as I can be sometimes, I think I have done quite well with all of that in the past few years of making it on my own. But there's the other side of me... the one, I guess, that is supposed to be a writer, the creative side that I don't show to everyone, because let's face it, sometimes people don't handle it well.

I am out of control with my commas today. Wow.

Anyway... I am still searching for myself, I think. I didn't realize it until just now. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of who I am, but its not true quite yet. I know who I am in the real world, and I know who I am when I lose myself in imagination and creativity, but I have yet to merge the two successfully. Perhaps I am afraid of the clash of those two worlds. Or is it just the loss of acceptance that I fear?

Here's a thought. Maybe God has a plan. Maybe he even made me and loves me and therefore wants me to be successful, so he knows exactly what I need to do. Maybe he wanted a Jo in the world, after all, and I wasn't really a mistake, as I have so often despaired to believe.

But how do I get others to see it, too? How do you inspire a lost world to keep believing? So many have sold out, and given up, and forgotten who they were, or don't even know who they could be. And my heart bleeds for them. But, silly me, God would have a plan for them, too, now wouldn't he?

So I am going to work on the merging of the two worlds inside me, and trust that God knows, and God does. Maybe that's why I awoke to sunshine, and the feeling that life was about to get better.

I guess, if ever the Real and Creative worlds were to meet, it would make sense that they would be inside a very Real and Creative God...

Rainy Day Blues

I won't deny it, I finally let the Melancholy get to me this week.

We lost our sunshine and warmth to the rain these past few days, and I've spent several evenings in a row alone now, and it finally just got inside me. Turns out drinking alcohol and watching even the most hilarious videos on YouTube isn't enough to fill the gap of human companionship. I guess I'm just plain, good old-fashioned lonely. And I don't mind admitting it anymore.

I realized it just a few hours ago, in the Wal-mart checkout aisle, when I found myself trying to make conversation with the girl at the counter. Not that there's anything wrong with talking to retail workers. I was in her shoes not so very long ago, and I always appreciated the people who treated me like a human being. But I realized I was talking to her because I was just desperate for a conversation. About anything. I guess that's what I get for taking an office job in a sea of cubicles where we're not supposed to speak to each other...

Sometimes I wonder if I'm going crazy. Seriously. My life really isn't that bad. So why is it my life is this bad? I was just reading my posts from just a few months ago, and I'm really doing well, considering. So maybe I'm just being dramatic. But I don't feel like I'm being dramatic. I just feel like I can't get my life together. I need someone's help. I think I'm supposed to say I need God's help. And maybe I do. But I don't know that I need God's help as much as I need other people. Is that sacrilegious or just ignorant? It is not my intention to be either.

Like right now. I need a backrub, and a good, long hug, and maybe even a free dinner. I need a real conversation, and maybe some laughter, and a good strong cup of coffee, and a new novel. And I need someone to help me clean my apartment, because I'm starting to believe it will never, ever, ever get done if I'm left to my own devices. And I'm depressed about it. I've been fighting this battle for a long, long time... it is never an easy demon to face.

My internet connection is lousy. It keeps cutting in and out and threatening to lose my unsaved work. I don't think losing this post would be such a loss. But I guess it's good to show the bad days along with the good. I am trying to learn to be real on paper, after all.

But I don't want to waste my words whining. There are definitely good things going on in my life. I just spent an atrocious amount of money on groceries, and unless my car breaks down or I have some sort of physical calamity, I'll never really notice a difference, because I finally have a good enough job that I can do that!

I really need time travel right now. I want to go back to my old apartment and find that scared little girl I was and give her a hug and tell her it will all be okay. Maybe six months from now I'll be reading this post and think the same thing all over again. Maybe I'll have some fantastic boyfriend by then, and a perfect relationship with Jesus, and my apartment, of course, will be spotless! :) Here's hoping.

But I know, from much experience, that rainy days pass.

It is nearly Friday. Just a few hours' sleep away from the last work day of the week. And then I get to go see Prince Caspian with my friends, and then whatever I find to do on Saturday, hopefully another convicting and encouraging Sunday, and then back to earning a living. I wonder how long I will do this? Will there ever be more to life again, or am I doomed to "independence" and coping with the daily grind?

A few weeks ago, I had a drink with a guy from work who told me I wasn't the kind of person who should be sitting in a cubicle figuring out people's medical benefits. He said I should join the Peace Corps and do my part to make the world a better place, or find some other way of using this deep heart in me. His words, not mine. I have been haunted by those words ever since... and I don't know what to do.

I have always wanted to leave this life behind and go somewhere and do something that everyone will think is crazy. It's just in me, and I'm not sure I'll ever silence that voice, even if I try. But then there's that part of me that has finally, finally found a place to settle, to rest for just a little while. And I waited so long for some rest, and a place that felt like home...

So there's the gypsy in me that will always want to travel and seek the new, and there's also the tired young woman who's way too young to feel this damn tired! Somehow I harbor both in my soul. And I really believe I need to rest for now, and maybe put down roots and see what happens.

Either way it is a risk. They are just different types. I am glad to know that I don't fear risk as much as I used to. Perhaps I am growing up a bit after all. I hope God hasn't given up on me yet. I'm pretty sure He doesn't do that, though, or we'd all be in trouble...

Just this week, one of my dear friends gave me a verse (from Psalm 103) that says: "The Lord is compassionate and merciful, slow to anger, and filled with unfailing love."

I still can't wrap my brain around it. What would it be like to be "filled with unfailing love," I wonder, because all the "love" I've ever been given has failed me at some point. I suppose we are all messes and failures in some way... and that's why we need Perfect Love. God's love. Compassionate, merciful, not easily angered... unfailing.

Even on gloomy, melancholy, rainy days. That is a very comforting thought.

Nocturnal Ramblings

I haven't written in a very long time, and I'm tired of staring at that same old post. So I'm going to do something about it! I suppose sleepy rambling is better than old news, right? I'll feel better about it, anyway.

So my life's been interesting lately. All sorts of things have been happening that I don't feel at liberty to post about just yet. I know, the mystery is killing you, right? :) All I'm saying is, I think God's doing some stuff. And if it's not God, man, am I gonna be in trouble!! But that's faith for you. Wow...

I just finished watching one of my favorite movies, Stranger Than Fiction, and I was reminded of how much I love writing. Everything from the act of writing, to the editing process, to reading what others have written (unless it's written poorly); I just love it! What exactly does that mean, though? Why am I not writing a novel by now? Am I just lazy, or am I supposed to trust my senses right now, when they tell me to hold off for a little while longer?

Who knows?

But I can't escape it. Writing is in me. There's nothing I can do. Like right now... I should either be cleaning up for the friend that's coming over to watch a movie tomorrow, or I should be going to bed, because I'm very, very tired. But neither of those things are happening, because the thought of a blank page came to me and I had a need to fill it up. Hopefully with quality literature, in good time, but for now it's just my general thoughts before I give up trying to motivate myself to clean up, and go ahead and fall asleep. Was that a run-on sentence? I'm pretty sure that was a run-on sentence.

Probably tomorrow, when I read this, I will be disappointed in my lack of creativity and meaningful words. Right now it feels cathartic, and possibly even brilliant. Why is it the next day always reveals your words to be less than inspired? It amazes me.

Here's hoping tomorrow reveals brilliance! :)

A Beauty So Deep

Written: Saturday, April 19...

I love Saturday mornings best. And yesterday I just bought some new coffee beans that I've never tried before, so I'm pretty excited about brewing a pot of coffee here in a minute. I think Saturday mornings are kinda like my “Sabbath” even though I still go to church almost every Sunday. Saturday mornings are when I get to think through the week and hopefully figure out how to do the next one better.

But things have been getting better already. And the sun comes out nearly every day now, so the world has not been such a gloomy place. So whatever part of me that seems to go to sleep during the winter, like so many hibernating animals, must have just stirred and arisen with sleepy eyes and messy hair. I am not at my best yet. Give me time to wake up...

I should probably work out this morning. I haven't done as much of that lately. At least I got out to walk with Jennifer last week. It's just so hard to schedule that into an already busy schedule. Whoever thought I'd be busy like this? With friends, and a good job, and a place to myself? Last year at this time... I would have been struggling at Old Navy... and I think I would have been still searching for a place to live because Steph had moved out and I was still at the Meth apartment, paying $400 a month on an Old Navy salary. Boy, was that fun. But at least that place had a view and no roaches...

Wow. If you look at it that way, I've come a long way since then.

And I've been pretty hard on myself over the last couple of weeks. So... it's Saturday morning, and it's time to take a deep breath, let the weeks go, and start over...

They say that heaven is beyond our wildest dreams... and really, this Earth is still beyond my wildest dreams, and I've only been a few places around this old globe so far. So, I can trust that God's got something else up his sleeve that's waiting for us in the end. But... I still haven't done all the things I wanted to do here, and there's no way I could do it all in just a lifetime. And there is a sadness in that realization for me.

I guess that's what makes heaven so scary. I've had 25 years to explore this place, but heaven I know nothing about. I can make a few assumptions, like it won't be bound by time like we are, and there probably won't be night and day, because I think the Bible says heaven is always full of light. I wonder if I will miss the evening, though? The setting of the sun, or the misty stillness of morning? I wonder if I will still get to discover little creatures, if there will be texture, if there will be anything physical at all?

Part of me doesn't want to go. I know I complain a lot about this place, and I often mourn how sin has wrecked everything, how I had a lousy dad and how I don't have a boyfriend. But really... I mean, will there be coffee in heaven? And cats? And fuzzy socks? Fun earrings? If you never have “a bad day” will you appreciate people being nice to you or giving you a hug? Will there be a Grand Canyon or the ancient green hills of Great Britain? Will there be literature there? Is story really as timeless as we hope it to be?

I guess it all comes down to trusting that God knows what He's doing. I guess that's what faith really is, simply put. Not only that He knows what He's doing, but for some of us with weaker faith, simply that he is, in fact, doing something... I am still trying to grasp that one.

Honestly, though, I didn't get to see the Earth before the ravaging hands of sin had their way with it. And it is still saturated in beauty, though lying in ruins. So to see a place untouched by sin, to walk a pure and holy ground, to dance without self-consciousness, to laugh without fear of crying... I would like to go to that place. I would take a risk on God knowing what He's doing, in order to witness a beauty so deep as Heaven.

I suppose Heaven might be my reward for keeping my heart alive and not giving in to the calluses of cynicism and selfishness. Perhaps when we get there, after breathing our last sigh on Earth and shedding our mortal skins, our lifetimes here will just feel like a long, hard day that's finally over. I used to fear that I would forget this place, but maybe Heaven will be so beautiful and good that I will not think of this anymore by my own free will.

But for now... I must rely on hot showers, and good TV shows, and the persistence of the ocean's waves reaching out to shore, and good talks with good friends, to be my heaven. For now, I have to learn to trust that God is doing... something. And my time isn't finished here yet... so I should not give in to despair.

That is all I know to be right now.

On Faith

This is my last weekend without coffee. Wow. I am so glad that it's almost over!! I was just thinking how a nice, steaming cup of coffee would be right now, as I sit and write...

I decided to give up coffee for Lent, on the recommendation of a friend. She had explained the tradition and the symbolism in such a way that it seemed irresistable... at the time. And so I made the committment, and began the sufferring... a whole week early! =] Not intentional. So I've been off coffee for a good long while here, and I miss it terribly. But I think I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. And now I think I can take a moment and be proud of myself, because I've almost made it! But it definitely wasn't easy. Coffee has long been my stress relief, and I've needed it this month. It has been a very rough month.

A lot of people have said that I've been negative lately. And I don't doubt it. The truth is I am overwhelmed, and so many things are out of my control, and I don't know what to do anymore. I have felt the flood waters rising up around my face, and I think it's only natural to panic a bit when you believe you're about to drown...

I have never really understood what we're supposed to be doing here, on Earth. I thought I was writing a story, but I've become angry lately at the story I seem to have been given. I feel like when I was ten years old and they got me that bike for Christmas... I'd had in my head that it was the purple bike with the sparkles that I'd asked for, and I was equally convinced that that particular bike and I would form a unique bond and that the two of us together created the right ingredients for magic. Like Harry Potter's wand that chose him. I knew that if I only had that bike, that I could fly... I truly believed it.

Then Christmas morning rolled around... but it was a pink bike with lolipops on it that greeted me. And that bike never let me fly. It was just a bike, and I was just a girl, and there was no magic. Now, in reality, did the pink bike do everything the purple bike would have? Probably, yes. But the believing nature in me isn't 100% convinced that the purple bike with sparkles wouldn't have been able to lead me to worlds unknown... even today I'm not fully convinced of the reality of the situation.

That is perhaps one of my greatest strengths and biggest downfalls. I have been accused of not having enough faith, but it is not the truth. The truth is that I have too much faith, but in the wrong things. I will believe something longer and deeper and more stubbornly than most people could ever fathom, much less act upon. Perhaps God gave me such a measure of faith to be a writer with, and the tragedy of it is, He's also had to watch me fall time and time again because I never turn that belief back around to him. I'll give it to some guy, or some cause, or some ridiculous notion, and then get devastated by "reality," all the while becoming less likely to trust the only one who is actually trustworthy...

So far it has been a deadly cycle. And a lot of things that I had been hoping in have fallen apart lately... so it's going to be even harder to resurrect what's left of my trusting heart.

So have I been negative lately? Probably. But that's just the tip of the iceberg, the warning that things really aren't okay under all this water... that my limbs have been growing weary for some time and that I won't be able to hold myself up for much longer... This is nothing new to me, so I am surprised to see a new group of people reacting so strongly to it. I guess this is just the first time some of them have recognized this particular struggle of mine... of having faith in everything but God.

There is much more to say, but I have a lot to do today, and I just needed to get some of this out of my thoughts. It's a process, this growing to trust God. I would love for it to be more of an instantaneous transformation, but it seems to be a long, slow process instead. So I guess there's nothing I can do except take the next step along the way.

Life is What Happens When You're Making Other Plans

You'd think that after 25 years of doing this Life stuff, I'd be able to tell kinda how things work on this planet and make some sort of accurate prediction about how things are generally going to turn out. But it isn't true. This week threw me a curve ball. And I've determined I don't like curve balls!

I've mostly made it out of the old apartment, because that had been such a bad situation that I just didn't want to be there anymore. It was worth the extra money to find my own place, and here I am. It all happened so quickly, though. And then this week happened, as well, and now I feel like nothing in my life is familiar at all. Which is perhaps a good thing. Maybe God knows things I don't know just yet.

But let's see... my second night in the apartment, my car was broken into and some irreplaceable stuff got stolen. One thing in particular that wasn't even mine, so I'm trying to figure out what to do about that. The timing, as always, was impeccable, because I had just had a discussion with an old friend about how to get said item back to him, and he had responded back with some anger... whether about the item or on a more personal note, I couldn't tell. But I was asked not to contact him anymore. I was still reeling from that request, unsure of what it meant and if I had done anything to deserve it. Then his stuff gets stolen from my car, and I pretty much feel like a worthless human being. *sigh* Sometimes I wonder if its ever worth it... but I can't get into all of that now.

They also stole my favorite coat. Is it dumb that I miss it? That I'm so upset about it? I know I have a lot of stuff, and clothes in particular, and let's be honest, I probably don't value or appreciate a lot of it the way I should. But I loved that coat. It was perfect for me in so many ways, and... I guess it just felt like a personal attack when it got stolen. Like someone was trying to hurt and violate me, not just get some stuff for free because they're too lazy to get their own job and buy their own stuff. I suppose I'm still a little angry about the situation. =] But I must remind myself that this green Earth we tread upon is not our eternal home, and we can't take our stuff with us when we go. I'm bad about getting attached to things and thinking they'll be around to make me happy forever. I'm bad about that with people too. I am constantly frustrated by the lack of permanence in this life.

So I was still dealing with the emotions of the break in, and all of that, when I got the flu and had to stay in bed for nearly 48 hours straight, with cold chills, and fever, and muscle pain, and vomiting... the whole 9 yards. So because of that, and other complications, I wasn't able to move the rest of my stuff out of the old apartment. I'm afraid my old roommate is going to be angry, and try to charge me more rent and all... I'm just ready to be done with it.

I guess you could say this was not my ideal first week in the new apartment. This wasn't really how I expected things to be. In fact, this whole year... this isn't really what I wanted for my 25th year of life. I had just always thought that things would be different. I guess I just need to bring my thoughts down from the clouds and plant them firmly into reality, so I don't keep getting hurt by my dreams and my life not matching up.

But there are good things happening in my world as well. This morning I woke up without fever (yaayy!) to the sun rising through the trees behind my apartment. MY apartment! No more people coming in and out doing whatever they want when they don't even live there. And that will be so refreshing. So I'm not ignoring that there are other things at work here, but its not wrong to grieve this lost world and allow yourself to hurt when you've been hurt by people you'd cared about.

Anyway, I've forgotten all about Daylight Savings Time, and now I'm going to be late to church!!

He...

I went to a Leap Day party this weekend. I had so much fun! Throughout the course of the evening, people would throw out quesions that everyone had to answer, and one of the questions that came up was: If you had to come up with the title for the story of your life, what would the title be?

Now the questions were all in good fun, and we made all kinds of jokes about what our titles would be. In fact, at one point we decided that my title could be: "He Said No!" because I had been joking about the cascade of rejection that had befallen me this week in regard to guys I know. It's been quite a bad week for me to be caring about people. I'm not really sure if I'm doing something wrong, or if I just need to stop trying to make friends with guys. I've had so many people tell me that that's just not a good idea, and I've ignored them for so long... and yet...

It is amazing to me... the power we have over one another. How the men in my life have affected me, motivated me, changed the way I see myself, changed who I want to be. By their affection or rejection, they have all had their say in the story of my life... they have all written their lines, for better or for worse. And I have written a line or two in their stories as well. It is scary to think about, really.

God gave us such power when he gave us one another. He made us so opposite and then said that we could live together, that we could marry and become one flesh and make babies together. And I wonder what he was even thinking sometimes, or how it ever works at all.

Who is he, I wonder? The guy that God will use to change the way I see? Who is the guy that will choose me over all the others? Who is the missing character in my story?

I love it when a couple has been married awhile, and you're having a conversation with one of them, and they're so intimate that they don't even use the others' name anymore... they'll just say "He was saying the other day..." or "have you talked to her about it?" and it always takes me a second to figure out who they're referring to, but in their mind there is no mistaking. I love that.

I want to be a "her" in a man's life. I want to find the "he" who will be so woven into my life story that he makes it into my sentences without need of a name.

He...

The one willing to say yes to "will you take this woman...?"

The one who'll write this story alongside me.

They say I am a hopeless romantic. And it must be true. All I know is, if I had to pick a title, with that in mind, I would like to call it... He.