Sometimes it happens.

I never get chihuahua-ish about my weekends, but I'm really excited about this one. And it's not really that full.

Friday.
Last class of spring 2009. [finals next week]
Lunch date with Bree! and perhaps longboarding?
Dinner date with Josh! a lets-get-dressed-up sort of date.


Saturday.
Sleep in. can't wait.
Holocaust memorial with the fam. should be sweet.
Ashley's bachelorette party! dinner! spa! friends!


Sunday.
High schoolers!
Leadership Meeting.
Date with Kellie. finally!
Evening sports vs. young adults. we'll beat your pants off...


okay I'm done now. hope you are well!

Charopoion penthos.

Greek. "Joy-creating sorrow"

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express."
Romans 8:26

"For sighing comes to me instead of food; my groans pour out like water."
Job 3:24

I am exploring this.

" Weeping, not sacrifice and not obedience, is as essential to the life of the soul as water is to the life of the body. in other words, the Christian should yearn for soul-softening and life-giving tears with as much desperation as the Israelites cried out for water. One should want above all to weep, not refrain from weeping.

...

The third form of holy tears are those that signify repentance. These are "bitter" teras, like "blood from the wounds in our soul," as St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote. This type of spiritual weeping has flourished mostly in male monastic settings but has powerfully influenced ideas of repentance across the social layers of the church. As in the prayer of St. Gregory the Theologian considered earlier, tears both precipitate and indicate a true softening of the hardened heart; as Father John Chryssavgis observes, tears are the sine qua non of repentance. This is a radical attachment of importance to tears; rather than being a by-product of remorse or an emotional ornament of sorrow, they literally open the doors of reconciliation to God. In other words, it is not enough to feel or to be broken, deeply ashamed, truly cast out: weeping must occur. Some ancient theologians go so far as to assert that without tears one cannot truly repent; St. Symeon the Theologian writes, "remove tears and with them you remove purification; and without purification no one is saved." This religious logic asserts that without tears that cleanse the soul in penitence, one cannot truly be forgiven by God and thus reconciled to him; hence tears are the axis of salvation itself. "

Excerpt from Holy Tears by Kimberly Patton and John Hawley


The last few assumptions are quite strong, and I wouldn't go so far as to agree completely, but I understand exactly where it's coming from. It's borderline experiential fuzzies, but it comes from the heart, and the heart is the mirror of the soul.
Call me crazy, but my soul needs this sometimes. "Needs" is too weak a word, even "craves". Oftentimes I cannot go on with life without a time of spiritual and emotional release...and it takes this form. I literally will not be able to do anything significant until this happens. Those gut-wrenching, shaking sorrowful sobs to silent, up-pouring joyful tears can both equally come from the Spirit. Never discount weeping as a feminine trait or a weakness. The Lord uses it to draw us to Him and into His presence.

Ah, this is so vulnerable. I'm done now.

Scraped.

It's funny that the deeper you go into ministry, the greater risk you're taking of getting hurt. But that comes with the territory, I suppose.

Meet Titus.

This is Titus.
He belongs to the Huckaby's.
He has a clipped wing.



I happen to think he's pretty handsome.



We had some pretty cool bonding today.
The end.

So... I'm posting this from my phone...sometimes i hate how connected technology "has" to be.

When life gets crazy overwhelming i start to hate adam and eve... And realize this isnt how it should be.

Not to be sold for pennies.

Galatians five says that it is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.





This is just to say...pigeons.

The gypsy was selling
Pigeons that were tied
To the stake
And walking

In circles.

I gave him
All the rubles I had
And told the gypsy to set
Them all free

Forgive me
You'd understand this
If you really knew
They were meant
To fly,
To sing.

I caught him.

I tried to follow him around, but he was too elusive. Maybe tomorrow.

In other news, today marked a day of thanks... a relationship was restored that means a lot to me. One that I didn't think would ever really be reconciled. God is so good!

People are coughing and it makes me sad. It sounds so horrible.

But Jello eggs make everything better.

Open your ojos.

Thought.

There is more than what we're living in. Self-centeredness eats away at our society today, whether that be in accumulating wealth for ourselves or wallowing in self-pity at our current state. These are the two sides to the pendulum.

1. Rich people are oblivious to the poverty in the world, and don't know how good they really have it.

2. Impoverished people are oblivious to the ability to dream big dreams, and think there's no hope in the world, so "why try?".

So this is where this thought leaves me. I am a lower-middle class white girl. This bothers me sometimes, but I've learned to deal. Based on my life experience growing up in a regular neighborhood, going to school in the ghetto, learning to love diversity, learning to love seeing the light go on in people's spiritual minds when they see Jesus in a new way... I've found that I am caught between two worlds.

The first one: I love what I have, that's not a bad thing, and I'm not tied down by any of it. God's given it, and He can take it. No surprise there. I've been blessed by having some crazy godly people in my life pour into me truths that have made me think hard about what I really believe. I've gone to amazing schools, when I shouldn't have. My family's never had a lot of money, but we've always had what we needed. I can go to Riverpark and watch a movie (matinee, mind you...none of this $10 business) with friends, head to Jamba Juice when I have some spare change, and I have a car that works, and a family that lets me live at home. I am crazy blessed!

The second: The dirty, rough parts of town (mine, or any other big one) make me feel alive. As in, more alive than anywhere else. And hey! God is at work there, too. The people have better stories, they're more colorful, there's more inspiration, there are more smells, things are closer together so you can walk places...and heck, the best food is down there. I enjoy being the minority. It's sad how being the minority makes you stand out. My experience has taught me to not be afraid. Why should I? My eyes and mind and heart have been made more aware of those around me, and if it's my time to go, please let it happen! I want to be with Jesus more than anything else in life, so don't deprive me of that.

Fewf. Well with that being said, what do we do now? I suppose my biased conclusion is that middle-class people are most privileged since they can more easily put their foot in both camps. But that doesn't satisfy me. What can be done? Francis Chan says it's "sexy these days to go out and do crazy things like go off and rescue kids from brothels, but those same people willing to do those things aren't willing to be faithful in the little things here." What? Really? Yeah, I'd tend to agree. So I'd say it's not good enough to just raise awareness, but we're so blinded by our own situations! I feel like running out into the streets sometimes yelling, "There is more to life than what you currently know!"

Long story short, so where do I fit?
I hate grappling with dualism. It exists, but most of the time, I choose to ignore it. But some things aren't meant to be ignored.

You can blame this thought coming about because we have a group project coming around soon and we have to find a problem at school or in the community that we have to find a new, unheard of solution. So what's our solution here? God didn't come to heal the well. Nor did was he okay with broken relationships. He came to bridge the two.

So now what?

Old clocks.

So maybe this time
I'll speak the words of life
With Your fire in my eyes
But that old familiar fear
is tearin' at my words
What am I so afraid of?

Cause here I go again
Talking 'bout the rain
And mullin' over things
that won't live past today
And as I dance around the truth
Time is not his friend
This might be my last chance
to tell him that You love Him

But here I go again, here I go again...


Hey yo! you can listen to Josh's sermon here. Check it! I sure am proud of him...

Beautiful mess.

bleary eyes and worn-out sighs
articles galore strewn about the floor
i sit and stare blank to the deep blue on the wall
the clock ticks on unforgivingly.

the experts can't teach what our shoddy minds can't reach
to know and be known, even when the fists have flown
the clock still ticks
i'll learn to manage.