Oh hey, remember me? My mind does not even know how to write anymore. I've been trying to write a thing for weeks now. WEEEEEKS. And I just can't do it. My mind is SO on other things. My mind was on painting every day of September and ink doodles every day of October.
And now it's November I'm supposed to be writing but my brain is so not in that space or into it at all. I keep trying to motivate myself or put in any sort of effort at all but I just can't.
Oh, and PS I still write longhand every single morning, but it isn't inspiring intellectual writing. It's kinda being an outlet for words to fall from my brain to the page and nothing more.
Did my brain just stop? Did I forget how to write? It took me probably half an hour to write this blog post. I'm in trouble.
Morning Drivel
Nothing like early morning airport runs to get the mind going. Actually, on a Friday morning, even at 5:30am, the traffic isn't very pretty and so a lot of energy goes into navigating merging and other drivers' questionable choices. It's not really a reflective time. But I've been awake for over 3 hours and don't have time to nap before work so why not write something on my neglected blog? At this hour, on this fuzzy brain it will either be boring drivel or I'll stumble upon something brilliant that my mind can't comprehend. I'm betting on the former, but who knows? Monkeys haven't yet typed the complete works of William Shakespeare, right? So maybe there's no basis for believing that I could stumble upon some wisdom. Though I do hope that I am somewhat more advanced than a monkey with a typewriter.
Speaking of the Shakespeare, some of my cool friends are doing The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, abridged. It's going to be hilarious, and it's Shakespeare so it's also going to be off-color so probably don't bring your kids. But bring yourself because it's hilarious. I read it and even reading it on my own I laughed aloud. I couldn't say "laughed out loud" because then everyone just thinks "lol" which essentially means "oh, mildly funny." But this is actually funny. Spoiler alert, they do Hamlet in 5 minutes, and also less. They do the complete works in an hour and a half! (Link for more info!)
Anyhow, what was I saying? Oh, nothing. Right. I am writing for the sake of writing and I don't have anything profound to say so I'll continue on with my pointless drivel.
I like Kempton. I like my niecephews. I like the cute childrens who aren't even my niecephews. I like rainstorms. I like crisp fall air with those piercing blue skies.
I just found out that there are people who actually like humidity. I mean, I have heard of people who tolerate it and manage to enjoy summer despite it. I can understand that... a little. But some people only like moist heat. I, on the other hand, can only stand dry heat. I love dry heat. I loved California! Humidity is most foul. Apparently some people like it. Some people like fish too.
I still haven't killed very much time. I guess I shouldn't kill time. It's handy stuff and I could move on to painting or just go to work early. P.S. I love painting.
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| Coffee and my journal (which I did not paint) |
Done = Art
I am hiding. Hiding from ideas. Hiding from writing. You might see me posting daily paintings and that might look like I'm doing something and not being afraid. But I am still just as afraid as I was yesterday. But when I decide to do something, I do it. If I say that I'm going to post a painting a day, I'll post a painting a day, even if I hate the painting. I should probably have a blog month too, where I have to post every day even if it's terrible.
Everything feels terrible. That's not even the slightest bit true. I actually love life so much right now. It is cold and rainy. Positivity weather for me. I love it! I have a new job. It's an adjustment to my life but I love that too. Everything is pretty fantastic so why did I say it feels terrible?
Because no matter how much I am loving life I still think that my writing and painting is no good. Which is just ridiculous. Because guess what, I am painting and I wasn't before. That is good. I am writing. I wasn't before. That is good. My paintings today are not Monet or van Gogh. But they are mine and they are better than they were a year ago. And they are better than nothing.
The paintings are mine and I take great joy and pride in my paintings. Let me tell you something, I love paint! I love the way it feels when I get it on my hands. I love watching something fluid go smoothly on and how it layers and dries.
But I hide from all of these joys because I am not yet da Vinci. It is scary to share mediocre work and pretend that it is good. But I have to remember that it is not pretending. Of course it's not master work. But it is work. And I love it. I care a lot that other people like it too, but I am trying to not value my paintings on the amount of likes they get. I am allowed to love a painting that got 3 likes even if another got 53. I am allowed to love my work and that is not vanity.
People talk about artists gifts. They call certain artists "gifted."
But I have another secret for you, it is true that some things come more naturally to some than to others, but sometimes to call what someone does "a gift" negates the hours of work they put in to get to that level. The artists true gift is the gift of perseverance. Not giving up even when they feel blocked and uninspired.
And that is the gift that I am struggling with. I may not be a gifted writer or a gifted painter, but the Lord gave me perseverance and dedication. I can be pretty bad at motivating myself, but if I set myself a task I will do it. Which is why I often set myself small tasks, because they are attainable. I can't set myself a task that I might not be able to achieve, not because I'm a perfectionist but because I have to believe it is doable. Setting a goal of a painting a day is achievable because I can put a splat of paint on a canvas and call it done. Done = Art.
But if I set myself the goal of becoming something, or achieving some level of skill then I don't know that I can do that and I will stop before I begin. Art is attainable. Writing is attainable. It doesn't have to be good; it has to be done.
"I will take care of the quantity; He will take care of the quality." - Julia Cameron
Everything feels terrible. That's not even the slightest bit true. I actually love life so much right now. It is cold and rainy. Positivity weather for me. I love it! I have a new job. It's an adjustment to my life but I love that too. Everything is pretty fantastic so why did I say it feels terrible?
Because no matter how much I am loving life I still think that my writing and painting is no good. Which is just ridiculous. Because guess what, I am painting and I wasn't before. That is good. I am writing. I wasn't before. That is good. My paintings today are not Monet or van Gogh. But they are mine and they are better than they were a year ago. And they are better than nothing.
The paintings are mine and I take great joy and pride in my paintings. Let me tell you something, I love paint! I love the way it feels when I get it on my hands. I love watching something fluid go smoothly on and how it layers and dries.
But I hide from all of these joys because I am not yet da Vinci. It is scary to share mediocre work and pretend that it is good. But I have to remember that it is not pretending. Of course it's not master work. But it is work. And I love it. I care a lot that other people like it too, but I am trying to not value my paintings on the amount of likes they get. I am allowed to love a painting that got 3 likes even if another got 53. I am allowed to love my work and that is not vanity.
People talk about artists gifts. They call certain artists "gifted."
But I have another secret for you, it is true that some things come more naturally to some than to others, but sometimes to call what someone does "a gift" negates the hours of work they put in to get to that level. The artists true gift is the gift of perseverance. Not giving up even when they feel blocked and uninspired.
And that is the gift that I am struggling with. I may not be a gifted writer or a gifted painter, but the Lord gave me perseverance and dedication. I can be pretty bad at motivating myself, but if I set myself a task I will do it. Which is why I often set myself small tasks, because they are attainable. I can't set myself a task that I might not be able to achieve, not because I'm a perfectionist but because I have to believe it is doable. Setting a goal of a painting a day is achievable because I can put a splat of paint on a canvas and call it done. Done = Art.
But if I set myself the goal of becoming something, or achieving some level of skill then I don't know that I can do that and I will stop before I begin. Art is attainable. Writing is attainable. It doesn't have to be good; it has to be done.
"I will take care of the quantity; He will take care of the quality." - Julia Cameron
The Broken Pieces of Yesterday
It was the first calm day in weeks and he couldn't resist taking his book down to the dock to read. It wasn't warm enough for swimming and the slight wind was cool enough that he was grateful for his windbreaker.
The calm was disrupted by a footfall on the dock which sent the dock bobbing on the water.
He looked up and sighed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, not looking at her but returning to his book.
"I wanted to talk."
He didn't respond, but continued to look at his book but he wasn't reading it anymore.
She sat down and stuck her bare feet into the water, seemingly oblivious to the cold.
"What are you doing here?" he asked again.
"I wanted to talk," she repeated. Not looking around.
"What's the point?" he asked, closing his book and getting to his feet. "The wound was healing! You coming here today is just ripping the scab off. Why do you insist on picking at it? This will only make it bleed more."
"I like blood," she said quietly. "It's clean."
He stared at her. "Clean?"
She shrugged. "Some things need to bleed."
"Most things need to heal." He didn't really want to listen to this anymore. He took one step toward the shore then called over his shoulder. "Stop picking at it and it will."
"Are you closing the door on me?" she asked, pulling her feet out of the cold.
"No, you closed the door on me," he said. "Let's not pretend it was any different." He gave her one last look and strode from the dock, but she followed.
"Well, you know what they say about closing doors and opening windows," she said, catching up to him and matching his stride.
He kept walking. "That windows aren't nearly as helpful as doors when it comes to moving forward?"
She laughed. "Maybe the smaller gap is so that you'll try harder!"
But he was not amused. He stopped and turned back to her.
"Are you saying you want me to try harder?" he asked. She saw the pain behind the question and hesitated.
"No," she said slowly. "I didn't mean that."
"Are you saying you want me to try harder?" he asked. She saw the pain behind the question and hesitated.
"No," she said slowly. "I didn't mean that."
"Look, I'm not trying to force anything," he said. "I won't close you out or close any doors, but I'm not gonna stand waiting and weeping either."
"Weeping?" she asked. A shadow crossed her face. "I'm sorry," she said softly as she stared at the ground.
But he wasn't interested in an apology. "Why are you following me? Are you unhappy?"
She stopped, a little surprised. "I'm not unhappy," she said. "Do I have to be unhappy to talk to you?"
"Yes!" he said angrily. "I don't understand you! You made your decision. You chose him. What are you doing here now?"
"I miss you," she said in a small voice.
"You aren't allowed to miss me if you're with him. It has to be a choice. You can't have it both ways."
She nodded, biting her lip. "I'm sorry you think that," she said. And she turned to go.
"I don't understand you, Meg!"
"Why can't I be with him and still be friends with you?"
"Because that's bloody weird! I'm sorry, but you just can't keep things the way they were. It doesn't work. When you walked away, that was the end. You can change your mind, but you can't keep us both in your life. It's that simple."
"I wish it were," she said. "But I will go. And I won't bother you anymore."
He watched her. "But do you understand?" he asked.
"I think so."
"I'm sorry. I never wanted to shut you out, but you see why it has to be this way, don't you?"
She bit her lip. "I wish I did."
"I don't understand you," he said again.
"That's part of it, isn't it?" she said sadly. "It turns out we were never on the same page."
"Then why do you insist on keeping me in your life?" he asked wildly.
"Because you had something that I wanted," she admitted.
"Are you talking about that scotch?"
"No," she wanted to laugh, but her heart was hurting too much. "It wasn't anything like that. You're just a person I wanted to be around. You meant something to me."
He shook his head. "Stop picking at the scab, Megan."
"I like blood," she repeated.
Writer's Block
And again words are escaping me. Why? Why am I afflicted with writer's block. I understand not knowing what comes next in the story and being stuck on a plot point or how to write it or resolve it. I haven't touched any of my stories in months. One story died when I went off the outline. I need to take it back to where it diverged and just try to write from there, like nothing else had happened. Just try a different path to the fountain. Throw out the blockage. Well, I can keep it in my deleted scenes folder. But write I must.
Can writers block be the inability to put pen to paper? Anyone could write something. Why is a blank page so daunting? I fear the first page in an empty book. I psych myself out that I can't mark up a book with such potential. But once the book has its first page written in then it isn't intimidating. So why the block? It's an empty page. Literally anything could be written on it. Feather, blue, ground, elevator, bucket, quicksotic. Haha! That's definitely not how you spell that, but that's the point. Anything. Words. Feelings. Colors. Bandaids. Pandas. I could write about anything. That should be freeing, but it's limiting. Everyone needs perimeters. Having no boundary creates too much to figure out. Limit the choices. Writer's block springs then from there being too much a character could do, not too little.
Something Is Missing
I feel like my poetic writing is dead. I used to be able to wax poetic about my surroundings and the smell of the air and... I'm stuck looking around for the right word but nothing follows that 'and'.
It is like the words have gone away. There are no words to grasp. They have run away from me and then won't let themselves be captured by my pen. The words are free. But not freely flowing on to my paper. Free to run away. Free to roam the world, not confined to the page anymore. But because of this flight my pages remain blank and unloved.
What remains is an empty sorrow. It is hollow and alone. Colors. Colors might still present themselves to me in a vivid array of madness.
The words contain no order. No sense rests within them unless it be a sense of unease.
Something is missing. It's not just the words that have run away. Something is missing.
Do you hear the silence? Birds are chirping, the wind is stirring the trees, a mechanical whirring sound. But the silence is profound. Months of death. The words aren't escaping into their ownness. They are dying. They are dying from their lack. They have no where to go and no one to walk beside. They sit in the land of no use awaiting the return. But they sit in solitude not knowing their neighbors. Not knowing what to do, because a word alone can't make sense without the other pieces around it. It might have the best location of all but with no neighbors to love, it lives a meaningless life of solitude. But alone it sits. Waiting for the life to breathe into it.
Waiting for the breath of lives.
It is like the words have gone away. There are no words to grasp. They have run away from me and then won't let themselves be captured by my pen. The words are free. But not freely flowing on to my paper. Free to run away. Free to roam the world, not confined to the page anymore. But because of this flight my pages remain blank and unloved.
What remains is an empty sorrow. It is hollow and alone. Colors. Colors might still present themselves to me in a vivid array of madness.
The words contain no order. No sense rests within them unless it be a sense of unease.
Something is missing. It's not just the words that have run away. Something is missing.
Do you hear the silence? Birds are chirping, the wind is stirring the trees, a mechanical whirring sound. But the silence is profound. Months of death. The words aren't escaping into their ownness. They are dying. They are dying from their lack. They have no where to go and no one to walk beside. They sit in the land of no use awaiting the return. But they sit in solitude not knowing their neighbors. Not knowing what to do, because a word alone can't make sense without the other pieces around it. It might have the best location of all but with no neighbors to love, it lives a meaningless life of solitude. But alone it sits. Waiting for the life to breathe into it.
Waiting for the breath of lives.
I Don't Write As Much As I Used To.
I usually default to iced coffee. I drink much too much of it. And it's not really hydrating, but it must be somewhat hydrating or I'd be dead, cause I can go several days drinking only coffee.
But today I am drinking iced green tea. I seldom drink iced tea, but I did last summer. Taste is a funny, evocative thing. I used to eat these little lavender or violet flavored candies and it always reminded me of England because it's the first place I got them.
Last summer was a summer of writing and drinking iced tea. And so one sip of iced tea reminded me that I don't write as much as I used to. And just like that a year slipped by and I missed the anniversary of starting my blog. Of course, I've been writing since forever, but my blog has reached its one year mark this month. I feel sad that I don't write as much. I need that reminder that I can write anything on here. And I need to. It doesn't matter if it is magical and poetic. It can, and needs to be, outright crap sometimes. Because I need to write in order to write. It makes sense, I know it does.
My brain has shifted toward painting and I don't regret it. Painting is a different kind of catharsis, but I still need to write. I process things by writing. Sadly my little writers guild died months ago. But part of my lack of posting on my blog is because I write in a handwritten journal every day so some thoughts get dumped there but they're very mundane, and I often resent my journal because I will get to the end of the day and still have to write so I will write gibberish just to get done with it. But it's not furthering my writing. I don't want to treat writing like a chore or something I have to get through.
In other news I have a new job! In other news I have a new instagram account. Well, a few months old. I decided to create an instagram for my art. Not because I think I'm so great that my art needs its own account, but mostly because I wanted to follow a ton of artists for inspiration. I love painting and I'm getting better. I love writing but I've plateaued.
Such is life. I feel busy. Mostly in a good way, but also in an I-haven't-cleaned-my-room-in-far-too long kind of way. I have laundry to fold, paints to clean up and so many surfaces to dust and yet, I'm going to play boardgames with my brother and sister-in-law because they're cute.
But today I am drinking iced green tea. I seldom drink iced tea, but I did last summer. Taste is a funny, evocative thing. I used to eat these little lavender or violet flavored candies and it always reminded me of England because it's the first place I got them.
Last summer was a summer of writing and drinking iced tea. And so one sip of iced tea reminded me that I don't write as much as I used to. And just like that a year slipped by and I missed the anniversary of starting my blog. Of course, I've been writing since forever, but my blog has reached its one year mark this month. I feel sad that I don't write as much. I need that reminder that I can write anything on here. And I need to. It doesn't matter if it is magical and poetic. It can, and needs to be, outright crap sometimes. Because I need to write in order to write. It makes sense, I know it does.
My brain has shifted toward painting and I don't regret it. Painting is a different kind of catharsis, but I still need to write. I process things by writing. Sadly my little writers guild died months ago. But part of my lack of posting on my blog is because I write in a handwritten journal every day so some thoughts get dumped there but they're very mundane, and I often resent my journal because I will get to the end of the day and still have to write so I will write gibberish just to get done with it. But it's not furthering my writing. I don't want to treat writing like a chore or something I have to get through.
In other news I have a new job! In other news I have a new instagram account. Well, a few months old. I decided to create an instagram for my art. Not because I think I'm so great that my art needs its own account, but mostly because I wanted to follow a ton of artists for inspiration. I love painting and I'm getting better. I love writing but I've plateaued.
Such is life. I feel busy. Mostly in a good way, but also in an I-haven't-cleaned-my-room-in-far-too long kind of way. I have laundry to fold, paints to clean up and so many surfaces to dust and yet, I'm going to play boardgames with my brother and sister-in-law because they're cute.
Tasting the Air
There are few things more thrilling than a thunderstorm at the beach! It was so lovely to wake up this morning in one of my favorite places on earth. It was gray and a little humid this morning, but cooler than yesterday. And now I sit inside looking out at the windows at the pouring rain. It's beautiful!
I love thunderstorms, but being here makes it even better. That's beach life for you! Dishes are fun at home (well, I think so) but much better at the shore. Cooking is fun, but much better at the shore!
A few years ago I read an Onion article about a mom on vacation and how she pretty much does all the things she does at home just several miles closer to the ocean. It's true. Homemakers make homes wherever they are. It's not something you vacation from. But homemaking at the shore is different than elsewhere. I love being here.
It's rainy and gray, but it's beautiful. The air is thick with salty moisture. I know it doesn't sound lovely, but it is.
Just glorious!
I love thunderstorms, but being here makes it even better. That's beach life for you! Dishes are fun at home (well, I think so) but much better at the shore. Cooking is fun, but much better at the shore!
A few years ago I read an Onion article about a mom on vacation and how she pretty much does all the things she does at home just several miles closer to the ocean. It's true. Homemakers make homes wherever they are. It's not something you vacation from. But homemaking at the shore is different than elsewhere. I love being here.
It's rainy and gray, but it's beautiful. The air is thick with salty moisture. I know it doesn't sound lovely, but it is.
Just glorious!
I Won't Write A Letter
If you want to get a swing fixed in Ramsett Park you might start a letter writing campaign. Maybe knowing that there are a lot of people inconvenienced by this would hurry up the process of getting it fixed. That's a reasonable request and maybe a use for letter writing campaigns.
But, let's just say that having no swings in Ramsett Park were divinely ordained. It wouldn't matter how many letters were sent in. If the rule was no swings, it doesn't matter how many people are inconvenienced by the lack of swings. If say 50 people wrote saying that they wanted a swing in the park, and no one wrote saying that they did not want swings in the park it might look like a lot of people wanted a swing in the park. But why would someone write in to say that they didn't want swings in the park if there were no swings in the park? Also, if God said no swings in the park, and even if everybody in the town did want swings in the park would you really want someone to bow to your wishes to provide swings in the park?
I think maybe I would just go to a different park.
Some people might say "Look, if you don't want swings in the park, just don't swing on them." But that's not the point. If God said no swings in the park I wouldn't want swings in the park.
If the people who maintained the park believed in the park rules, it shouldn't matter what letters they received. Even if hundreds and hundreds of letters poured in telling them they really wanted swings in the park, and no one wrote to them saying "Hey, I'm cool with there being no swings in the park!" that shouldn't matter. Do the park rules matter or not?
I mean, I guess maybe we could change the park rules? Maybe they're only guidelines and if enough people wanted to change the park rules that would be a good idea. After all, maybe the park rules were written a long time ago and times have changed. Oh wait, did we establish that the park rules were directly from God? Hmm, I guess we don't really have the authority to change them then.
I wouldn't want the park people being persuaded by letters of any kind. I will not be writing a letter to the park people, because my opinion doesn't matter. Because it's an opinion. Also, I don't care if my opinion is heard. Because it's an opinion. The Park Rules aren't gonna change, no matter how many letters anyone writes.
But also, if you want to write a letter telling someone how much you love the park there's nothing wrong with that.
Stop worrying about how many people are coming to the park. Adhere to the park rules and all will be well. I trust the park people. I believe that they are doing their best to follow the park rules.
And really? I trust the Lord. It's really gonna be fine because He's got this. No matter what, He's got this.
But, let's just say that having no swings in Ramsett Park were divinely ordained. It wouldn't matter how many letters were sent in. If the rule was no swings, it doesn't matter how many people are inconvenienced by the lack of swings. If say 50 people wrote saying that they wanted a swing in the park, and no one wrote saying that they did not want swings in the park it might look like a lot of people wanted a swing in the park. But why would someone write in to say that they didn't want swings in the park if there were no swings in the park? Also, if God said no swings in the park, and even if everybody in the town did want swings in the park would you really want someone to bow to your wishes to provide swings in the park?
I think maybe I would just go to a different park.
Some people might say "Look, if you don't want swings in the park, just don't swing on them." But that's not the point. If God said no swings in the park I wouldn't want swings in the park.
If the people who maintained the park believed in the park rules, it shouldn't matter what letters they received. Even if hundreds and hundreds of letters poured in telling them they really wanted swings in the park, and no one wrote to them saying "Hey, I'm cool with there being no swings in the park!" that shouldn't matter. Do the park rules matter or not?
I mean, I guess maybe we could change the park rules? Maybe they're only guidelines and if enough people wanted to change the park rules that would be a good idea. After all, maybe the park rules were written a long time ago and times have changed. Oh wait, did we establish that the park rules were directly from God? Hmm, I guess we don't really have the authority to change them then.
I wouldn't want the park people being persuaded by letters of any kind. I will not be writing a letter to the park people, because my opinion doesn't matter. Because it's an opinion. Also, I don't care if my opinion is heard. Because it's an opinion. The Park Rules aren't gonna change, no matter how many letters anyone writes.
But also, if you want to write a letter telling someone how much you love the park there's nothing wrong with that.
Stop worrying about how many people are coming to the park. Adhere to the park rules and all will be well. I trust the park people. I believe that they are doing their best to follow the park rules.
And really? I trust the Lord. It's really gonna be fine because He's got this. No matter what, He's got this.
The Affirmative Principle
Does the Word have some sort of expiration date I didn't know about? A best used by but maybe could still be okay for a little bit after just not as good? Like food, does it become unhealthy to consume after a certain point?
The same goes for reading the Word. If you constantly have to be wondering if the Lord actually means what He says then it's exhausting hard work. Just assume that He knows what He's doing. AND He knew what He was doing a couple thousand years ago when He told people to write down His Word. Our problems aren't new. He even knew about every single thing we're facing in 2018, and He wrote about it a long time ago. And it's still active and living today. There is no expiration date on the Truth.
Stop dating the Word. Be committed to it. It makes life so much easier if you do.
Why would the Lord write something that would go out of date? After the Lord's first coming the old testament did not expire.
Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. Matthew 5:17Even after the Lord's second coming, the old and new testaments are not to be thrown out or disregarded. The Lord's Word is never going to be unhealthy. If we are allergic to it that is not because there is something wrong with it that needs to be changed. We can't substitute gluten free doctrine just so we don't react poorly to it. Of course we have sensitivities to the Word! It is not going to sit right with us, because we are not right!
And I went unto the angel, and said unto him, Give me the little book. And he said unto me, Take it, and eat it up; and it shall make thy belly bitter, but it shall be in thy mouth sweet as honey. Revelation 10:9The only way to approach the Word is to assume that the Lord is telling us the truth. That He is not misleading us or gave us some kind of Where's Waldo where we have to look through it for something we recognize.
There are therefore two principles; one of which leads to all folly and insanity, and the other to all intelligence and wisdom. The former principle is to deny all things, or to say in the heart that we cannot believe them until we are convinced by what we can apprehend, or perceive by the senses; this is the principle that leads to all folly and insanity, and is to be called the negative principle. The other principle is to affirm the things which are of doctrine from the Word, or to think and believe within ourselves that they are true because the Lord has said them: this is the principle that leads to all intelligence and wisdom, and is to be called the affirmative principle. Arcana Coelestia 2568:4I'm not saying that understanding the Word is easy. But it's easier if you assume that is is right. The hardest thing we have to do in life is make decisions. Decisions are really hard, man! My last blog post was about how marriage is the opposite of dating. One of the things that makes marriage SO much better than dating is it's one less decision to make. With dating you have to figure out a HUGE decision: Do you want to spend the rest of your life with this human? With marriage the answer is always yes. You have already made the hardest decision. But it's made. All you have to do now is make a million more decisions, but that one is set in stone.
The same goes for reading the Word. If you constantly have to be wondering if the Lord actually means what He says then it's exhausting hard work. Just assume that He knows what He's doing. AND He knew what He was doing a couple thousand years ago when He told people to write down His Word. Our problems aren't new. He even knew about every single thing we're facing in 2018, and He wrote about it a long time ago. And it's still active and living today. There is no expiration date on the Truth.
Stop dating the Word. Be committed to it. It makes life so much easier if you do.
Dating is the Opposite of Marriage
It's funny how people say that dating is good practice for marriage. Well, I dunno, maybe people don't say that anymore. But seriously, teenagers don't need to be dating. The only point of dating is to find out if you could marry the other person. Not to find out what type of person you like or are compatible with. Not to just have fun. The purpose of dating is getting to know someone with the intention of marrying them if things work out.
With marriage there is not. And I think that often people get used to dating and then breaking up when things aren't going well, and then thinking that that's how marriage works too. With marriage you're all in. There's no folding once you have a winning hand.
Dating is stressful. Marriage can be stressful, but the nice thing is that the decision has already been made. You're still figuring stuff out, but you're not figuring out if it can work but how it can work better and better.
Marriage is forever. Thank goodness dating is not!
But it really is the opposite of marriage. So I'm gonna use gambling as an analogy for dating. Relationships are not roulette. It's not chance. It's not random. There's a plan. But there's also the problem of throwing in good money after bad. When you've invested a certain amount of time into a person it can feel like you just have to make it work out. You have to stick with it and fix it even if things aren't working. But the truth is that there is zero real commitment. If things aren't working they don't have to.
You gotta know when to hold them,I'm not saying it's easy to know what's worth holding on to, but there is always the option to fold.
Know when to fold them,
Know when to walk away, know when to run.
With marriage there is not. And I think that often people get used to dating and then breaking up when things aren't going well, and then thinking that that's how marriage works too. With marriage you're all in. There's no folding once you have a winning hand.
Dating is stressful. Marriage can be stressful, but the nice thing is that the decision has already been made. You're still figuring stuff out, but you're not figuring out if it can work but how it can work better and better.
Marriage is forever. Thank goodness dating is not!
13 Drafts
I have 13 drafts on my blog. Because once again I have decided I can't publish a post without it being meaningful and thought provoking. The problem is that I have lots I want to say but I keep not saying it right so I don't write anything. Cause that's the way to get better at anything; thinking in your brain about how everything has to be perfect before action.
So I have discovered that I suck at taking action. Whether it be writing, practicing ukulele, drawing, painting, or any number of things. It's easier to think about it than actually do it. And I don't want to get things wrong so I overthink and underact.
Thinking IS useful. And reading and gathering information, even when it doesn't always feel that way.
I read the Word every day, but I don't often feel like I'm learning anything. I'm also reading TCR and while it can be mind-blowing and inspiring to read, I don't often feel like there is actionable stuff in it for me. When I brought this up at a doctrinal class our minister pointed out that what we are doing is building a framework that everything else rests on and he compared it to med-school where students learn about every aspect of the human body and while a lot of it is not going to be practical information it is nevertheless building a framework for all the hands-on stuff they will be doing.
It made me think of this passage from Matthew Chapter 22:37-40:
I have known, from my childhood that I am supposed to love the Lord and the neighbor. But HOW does one love the Lord and the neighbor? That is where everything else comes in. And everything in the Word and Heavenly Doctrine is teaching us how to love the Lord and each other. It is a complex web of knowledge that keeps getting added to. It is an ever growing framework.
Another biblical analogy would be a tree. The roots, the branches and the leaves are useful, but the Lord tells us to bear fruit. We must have the knowledge or the branches for the fruit to grow on.
I love studying the Word, even when I don't get it all at once. If I did, I guess I wouldn't have to read it again. It is living. It is constant.
So I have discovered that I suck at taking action. Whether it be writing, practicing ukulele, drawing, painting, or any number of things. It's easier to think about it than actually do it. And I don't want to get things wrong so I overthink and underact.
Thinking IS useful. And reading and gathering information, even when it doesn't always feel that way.
I read the Word every day, but I don't often feel like I'm learning anything. I'm also reading TCR and while it can be mind-blowing and inspiring to read, I don't often feel like there is actionable stuff in it for me. When I brought this up at a doctrinal class our minister pointed out that what we are doing is building a framework that everything else rests on and he compared it to med-school where students learn about every aspect of the human body and while a lot of it is not going to be practical information it is nevertheless building a framework for all the hands-on stuff they will be doing.
It made me think of this passage from Matthew Chapter 22:37-40:
And Jesus said to him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God in thy whole heart, and in thy whole soul, and in thy whole mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang the whole Law and the Prophets.
Another biblical analogy would be a tree. The roots, the branches and the leaves are useful, but the Lord tells us to bear fruit. We must have the knowledge or the branches for the fruit to grow on.
I love studying the Word, even when I don't get it all at once. If I did, I guess I wouldn't have to read it again. It is living. It is constant.
A Brief Summary
What is happening?! I haven't written in forever and this is only my second blog post in May and it's the 24th! Craziness! Also, the blog post I published in May was mostly written in April. Wow.
I was giving it some thought. It was making me sad, like I don't have time for blogging and that's not cool, but I think it's okay because it means instead of writing about life happening, life IS happening.
I went to Belgium, and also The Netherlands, Germany, and France! All for the first time (unless you count a layover in the Munich airport 10 years ago). Almost immediately upon arriving home from Europe I went to Canada. I've lost track of how many times I've been to Canada, but that was a fun and busy trip. So busy I didn't have time for a blog post or a nap.
Just popping up to Canada to help take care of my niecephews. It was a busy time and upon arriving I felt like the evil dictator aunt who waltzes in and just starts issuing orders! It took me a few days but with some prayer I was able to remember how to connect with the kids and enjoy my time there rather than feeling like I was just trying to keep a machine going. I like order, I love structure, but I can forget that I am a human being and I need to be willing to be flexible. I know that I am useful to them, but I am always blown away by how useful it is to me. It can be hard to see when I am blind with tiredness and up to my elbows in dishes, but after a non-stop two weeks I got in the car to drive home and had some reflection time, and now I've been home for almost a week and have caught up on some sleep and I can now reflect on how useful such a trip is to me.
My life is not my own. And that is a good thing. I need that reminder. I need to let go of the control of my life. But how, in my day-to-day life do I let go of control but not let go of order? Children are a surefire reminder. When you're around children there is a certain amount of predictability but with a healthy dose of uncertainty. I'm not doing a good job describing it, because I am aware of the time ticking away from me and the things I need to get done in the next half hour.
For now, let me just say that children are good for me. Chaos is good for me. Strong willed children are good for me. Having a soaking wet rag flung unceremoniously from the bathtub on to me is a good thing. Deluged with water, tears and hugs is very good for me. Struggling to teach a child a job when it is far easier to just do it myself is good for me. How often does our Father look down and think "It would be easier if I just did it myself"? But He doesn't. Because He knows how useful it is for us to learn it. He can't just do it for us though that would be so much easier.
I re-see the Lord every time I interact with children. Every time I am frustrated and tired I can see in even sharper contrast the Lord's infinite patience and kindness as He lovingly encourages us on our path.
I was giving it some thought. It was making me sad, like I don't have time for blogging and that's not cool, but I think it's okay because it means instead of writing about life happening, life IS happening.
I went to Belgium, and also The Netherlands, Germany, and France! All for the first time (unless you count a layover in the Munich airport 10 years ago). Almost immediately upon arriving home from Europe I went to Canada. I've lost track of how many times I've been to Canada, but that was a fun and busy trip. So busy I didn't have time for a blog post or a nap.
Just popping up to Canada to help take care of my niecephews. It was a busy time and upon arriving I felt like the evil dictator aunt who waltzes in and just starts issuing orders! It took me a few days but with some prayer I was able to remember how to connect with the kids and enjoy my time there rather than feeling like I was just trying to keep a machine going. I like order, I love structure, but I can forget that I am a human being and I need to be willing to be flexible. I know that I am useful to them, but I am always blown away by how useful it is to me. It can be hard to see when I am blind with tiredness and up to my elbows in dishes, but after a non-stop two weeks I got in the car to drive home and had some reflection time, and now I've been home for almost a week and have caught up on some sleep and I can now reflect on how useful such a trip is to me.
My life is not my own. And that is a good thing. I need that reminder. I need to let go of the control of my life. But how, in my day-to-day life do I let go of control but not let go of order? Children are a surefire reminder. When you're around children there is a certain amount of predictability but with a healthy dose of uncertainty. I'm not doing a good job describing it, because I am aware of the time ticking away from me and the things I need to get done in the next half hour.
For now, let me just say that children are good for me. Chaos is good for me. Strong willed children are good for me. Having a soaking wet rag flung unceremoniously from the bathtub on to me is a good thing. Deluged with water, tears and hugs is very good for me. Struggling to teach a child a job when it is far easier to just do it myself is good for me. How often does our Father look down and think "It would be easier if I just did it myself"? But He doesn't. Because He knows how useful it is for us to learn it. He can't just do it for us though that would be so much easier.
I re-see the Lord every time I interact with children. Every time I am frustrated and tired I can see in even sharper contrast the Lord's infinite patience and kindness as He lovingly encourages us on our path.
Brief Recap.
I want to write something profound, but I fear I am a little brain fried. I am sitting in the Brussels airport after a wonderful trip to Belgium. Not only Belgium! I also got to go to Germany and the Netherlands.
I can’t tell you everything we did and why because it’s not mine to tell. Ask me if you think that's too mysterious. Haha.
I biked for the first time in years! If biking in Pennsylvania was like biking in the Netherlands I would definitely bike more! I loved it and I loved “my” bike! I was a little sore after but it was worth it. Haven't exercised those muscles in forever!
I saw lots of windmills got to go inside at least 4! And Definitely got to see fields and fields of tulips! Wow! What a beautiful country The Netherlands!
Germany was a highlight! We went for only a few hours, but the pine forests smelled like my childhood! I loved the hills and the thin trees that got so dense it was pure darkness behind! The sunlight on the trees and the hills, the beautiful old houses, crisp pine scented air! Real pine!
Wallonia, the south of Belgium, was also a delight. I loved the rolling hills and clusters of flowers, and there there were blossoming fruit trees that smelled like heaven.
Before Wallonia was West Flanders. The landscape couldn’t be more different! Flat. So flat you can’t capture it in a picture! We were driving alongside a canal we were looking for but we couldn’t see it though it was only a few yards away because of how flat the landscape is. But the flat is far from boring! The landscape was dotted with yellow brick houses with red tile roofs adorned with the natural yellow-green lichens! I loved those houses!
The flatness meant that we were able to see fairly far. You could see churches from far away and as you got closer see a few houses surrounding the church, then then flat again before we approached another little village!
We also popped into France for a few hours. It's funny the way you can just pop across country borders the way we move freely between states in the U.S.
All in all a lovely trip and I will have to write more soon!
I can’t tell you everything we did and why because it’s not mine to tell. Ask me if you think that's too mysterious. Haha.
I biked for the first time in years! If biking in Pennsylvania was like biking in the Netherlands I would definitely bike more! I loved it and I loved “my” bike! I was a little sore after but it was worth it. Haven't exercised those muscles in forever!
I saw lots of windmills got to go inside at least 4! And Definitely got to see fields and fields of tulips! Wow! What a beautiful country The Netherlands!
Germany was a highlight! We went for only a few hours, but the pine forests smelled like my childhood! I loved the hills and the thin trees that got so dense it was pure darkness behind! The sunlight on the trees and the hills, the beautiful old houses, crisp pine scented air! Real pine!
Wallonia, the south of Belgium, was also a delight. I loved the rolling hills and clusters of flowers, and there there were blossoming fruit trees that smelled like heaven.
Before Wallonia was West Flanders. The landscape couldn’t be more different! Flat. So flat you can’t capture it in a picture! We were driving alongside a canal we were looking for but we couldn’t see it though it was only a few yards away because of how flat the landscape is. But the flat is far from boring! The landscape was dotted with yellow brick houses with red tile roofs adorned with the natural yellow-green lichens! I loved those houses!
The flatness meant that we were able to see fairly far. You could see churches from far away and as you got closer see a few houses surrounding the church, then then flat again before we approached another little village!
We also popped into France for a few hours. It's funny the way you can just pop across country borders the way we move freely between states in the U.S.
All in all a lovely trip and I will have to write more soon!
English Isn’t My First Language
Not being able to speak the language(s) of the country you’re visiting can be extremely isolating. In Brussels I didn’t notice it so much because though we were in an apartment with another girl from Norway she spoke very good English. A lot of people in Brussels speak English. I think a lot of people in West Flanders also speak English but I just really wish that I spoke Dutch. I have to say, I am not proud to be an American.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 3 languages?
A: Tringual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 2 languages?
A: Bilingual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 1 language?
A: American.
I know a few Dutch words. And I know what even fewer Dutch words mean. I see words on signs and I’m like “I know that word! But I don’t know what it means.” And because I can barely form a sentence it feels insulting to try. I’m just another loud American tourist disturbing this beautiful county. But everyone we have met has been kind and has spoken a bit of English and has not seemed annoyed by us. It is just myself who feels shame for not being able to speak their language.
But there is a language here, and most places, that I understand. On Sunday we drove to Dunkirk and went to Catholic Mass at St Eloi. Did I understand the words the children sang? The words we were invited to sing? The words of the priest? It was French. I know a handful of French words, but got almost nothing from the words I heard. But I heard more than the words. About 20 children took their first communion on Sunday. I am not catholic, but I understood the children’s declarations of faith. I understood the people around me kneeling. I understood the voices singing to the Lord.
That evening we went to another Catholic Mass in De Panne, Belgium. Another language. This time I picked out a few words of the sermon and recognized the Lord’s Prayer immediately when we started saying it. But it wasn’t the words that spoke to me but the people around me. A smaller service than the St Eloi by far, but just as touching.
In Catholic Mass you are only offered the bread, not the wine, something I don’t understand and want to read more about. But I understood the tears of the woman in front of me as she took the bread of communion.
Wherever you are in the world there is fellowship if you look for it. Indeed, I felt more at home with the people of St Eloi and The Chapelle Royale than I would among many English speaking people. I spoke the same language as the people around me. They are not of the same religion as me, but they don’t need to be: they are worshipping the Lord!
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 3 languages?
A: Tringual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 2 languages?
A: Bilingual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 1 language?
A: American.
I know a few Dutch words. And I know what even fewer Dutch words mean. I see words on signs and I’m like “I know that word! But I don’t know what it means.” And because I can barely form a sentence it feels insulting to try. I’m just another loud American tourist disturbing this beautiful county. But everyone we have met has been kind and has spoken a bit of English and has not seemed annoyed by us. It is just myself who feels shame for not being able to speak their language.
But there is a language here, and most places, that I understand. On Sunday we drove to Dunkirk and went to Catholic Mass at St Eloi. Did I understand the words the children sang? The words we were invited to sing? The words of the priest? It was French. I know a handful of French words, but got almost nothing from the words I heard. But I heard more than the words. About 20 children took their first communion on Sunday. I am not catholic, but I understood the children’s declarations of faith. I understood the people around me kneeling. I understood the voices singing to the Lord.
That evening we went to another Catholic Mass in De Panne, Belgium. Another language. This time I picked out a few words of the sermon and recognized the Lord’s Prayer immediately when we started saying it. But it wasn’t the words that spoke to me but the people around me. A smaller service than the St Eloi by far, but just as touching.
In Catholic Mass you are only offered the bread, not the wine, something I don’t understand and want to read more about. But I understood the tears of the woman in front of me as she took the bread of communion.
Wherever you are in the world there is fellowship if you look for it. Indeed, I felt more at home with the people of St Eloi and The Chapelle Royale than I would among many English speaking people. I spoke the same language as the people around me. They are not of the same religion as me, but they don’t need to be: they are worshipping the Lord!
Travels and Journals!
I know I've mentioned it before but as a new years resolution I decided to handwrite two pages every day. I just finished off one journal a day or two ago and have a fresh journal to bring with me to Belgium! As of today I have written 212 pages this year!
Sometimes I envision a shelf full of journals, but these aren't full of any great matter. I write the interesting stuff here on my blog. Stuff like "Hey, I'm writing a journal" and "Hugh Jackman is the awesomest celebrity ever." Important stuff like that. But my journals are even more dull. Sometimes it is literally "I don't want to write. Gotta fill these pages. Blah blah blah. I'm bored of writing. I hate writing. I love writing."
But it's an exercise and it's good for me.
In other news, I leave for Belgium today?! What? What? I'm sure that in the next few hours the anxiety will hit, but I'm actually feeling quite chill this morning. Oh, you know, just popping on to a plane this afternoon and going to Europe like you do. No big deal.
Except that it is a big deal and I am beyond excited and there will be so much to do and see and I am crossing my fingers that I will get to see fields of tulips and some windmills. Since "seeing windmills" is on our itinerary, I'm thinking there's a chance! Also, it's tulip season in the Netherlands and I assume there will be some tulips in Belgium too.
Oh man! I don't know how often I will post blog posts while I'm away, but I hope to post a few!
Prayers and well-wishes for a fun and safe adventure will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading my blog. I'll write again soon, I hope!
I'm Belgian Bound.
My brain is mush after a very short amount of research. Cause scouring the web for a bit of information is made SO much harder when you're slogging through French and Flemish websites trying to make sense of it from the little you know. And yes, I am aware of "translate this page" buttons which work some of the time.
I am sure my brain will be even more mush when I arrive in Belgium. But I am excited. Oh by the way, did I tell you I'm going to Belgium? I am so excited about it all. It's a long story involving me voluntarily getting dragged into making a movie with a friend. I was free to help out and so I kept being around and going to meetings and planning and then all of the sudden I was co-producing and assistant directing a film. Ask me about it sometime.
So, one thing led to another and now we're going to do some research in Belgium and location scouting and DANG! I'm going to Belgium! The last time I left the country was 8 years ago when I went to New Zealand (not including trips to Canada). I've been to Canada, Mexico, New Zealand, England Scotland and, though it barely counts, a 3 hour layover in Germany. I have never been to Europe proper and by the end of April I'll be able to say I've been to 3 more countries (4 if you count two short layovers in the Dublin airport).
Needless to say I am quite excited! I am mostly pretty organized and packed at this point with only a few more things to add to my suitcase. Can't forget my toothbrush. Not sure why it wasn't on my list already, but luckily a friend offered to look over my list and pointed out the essentials that I was missing. Super useful. Always get someone to look over your packing list.
Life is good. God is good. I am grateful. I am Belgian bound!
I am sure my brain will be even more mush when I arrive in Belgium. But I am excited. Oh by the way, did I tell you I'm going to Belgium? I am so excited about it all. It's a long story involving me voluntarily getting dragged into making a movie with a friend. I was free to help out and so I kept being around and going to meetings and planning and then all of the sudden I was co-producing and assistant directing a film. Ask me about it sometime.
So, one thing led to another and now we're going to do some research in Belgium and location scouting and DANG! I'm going to Belgium! The last time I left the country was 8 years ago when I went to New Zealand (not including trips to Canada). I've been to Canada, Mexico, New Zealand, England Scotland and, though it barely counts, a 3 hour layover in Germany. I have never been to Europe proper and by the end of April I'll be able to say I've been to 3 more countries (4 if you count two short layovers in the Dublin airport).
Needless to say I am quite excited! I am mostly pretty organized and packed at this point with only a few more things to add to my suitcase. Can't forget my toothbrush. Not sure why it wasn't on my list already, but luckily a friend offered to look over my list and pointed out the essentials that I was missing. Super useful. Always get someone to look over your packing list.
Life is good. God is good. I am grateful. I am Belgian bound!
The Lord Wants to Know
I think one of my favorite passages in the Word is "Did not our hearts burn within us?" It's such a powerful image of the Lord's words stirring us.
But the story is also so much about our obliviousness. It starts out with two disciples walking along and the Lord joining them on their path.
"And He said to them, What words are these which you exchange with each another, while you walk and are sad? And one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answering, said to Him, Art Thou only a sojourner in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which have come to pass there in these days? And He said to them, What things?" (Luke 24:17-19)
The Lord is omniscient, and yet He asks them why they are sad. And they wonder how He doesn't know what is going on when this is the biggest thing that has happened! Something monumental just happened in their lives and this Person asks them "Why are you sad?"
How often does that happen to us? We're going through something huge and the Lord asks us casually "Why are you sad?" and we answer "How do you not know?!" and He responds "Tell me about it."
The Lord wants to know. He always wants to hear what is going on. He already knows but He still wants us to come and tell Him.
I still feel like I am bad at praying, and yet we are told that prayer is speech with God. It shouldn't be that hard to talk to the Lord, and yet it always is for me, so I appreciate this reminder that the Lord knows it all and yet He still asks us to tell Him. He is always there and ready to listen, but I still need this reminder to open my eyes to Him.
"Taking bread, He blessed it; and breaking, gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew Him; and He became invisible to them. And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while He spoke to us in the way, and while He opened to us the Scriptures? And standing up in that same hour, they returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven assembled, and those who were with them, saying, The Lord has truly risen!" (30-34)
Approaching the Lord
I am sure that I have written about this before but I just searched and cannot find where. But whatever, a little repetition never hurt anyone.
I am meditating again on the story of the prodigal son. It is a familiar story to many. Even many non church goers know the basics: The extravagant squanderer returns home.
Sometimes I feel a little cliche or even guilty that some of my favorite stories from the Word or favorite passages are so common. But there's nothing wrong with that. They are favorites to many for a reason!
Years ago my friends and I started saying "Don't feed pigs" to each other. Which was sort of a way of saying "Don't settle. The Lord has more planned for you. Don't give up on yourself. Don't beat yourself up." And that's an important thing for people to tell you. "You are worth more than many sparrows." Nevertheless, feeding pigs was an important part of this man's journey. When you have nothing and realize that you could at least work for someone, somewhere, then that's a good start.
The first thing is to realize that you are starving, spiritually. "He longed to fill his belly."
Once you realize that you are starving you decide to return to the Lord. You know what? that's pretty humiliating. When I screw up, the last people I want to go back to are the people I failed. But humble is exactly what we need to be.
I remember once thinking "If the Lord knew how badly I screwed up He wouldn't want me." But at the same time thinking that if I told a close friend the extent of my wrong doings she would still love me and help me back. That's when I remembered that the Lord is of course more loving and merciful than anyone else anywhere! But because of His power and glory it is WAY scarier to approach Him with my evil. I find it a lot safer to confide in a mere mortal of a friend. But that is why Jehovah God came on earth. So that He could conquer the hells as a human and by taking on this world as Jesus Christ He saved us. He fought every evil that we could ever face. That is what He did for us.
And now comes my favorite part of the story: "And he stood up and came to his father. And being yet a distance away, his father saw him and had compassion, and running, fell on his neck and kissed him." (20)
Can you imagine coming back and seeing your father's house in the distance, or maybe even seeing him and becoming paralyzed? I picture this scenario often. I hate adding anything to the text of the Word. But my picture of returning to the Lord is taking those steps to return to Him, getting just close enough and getting so afraid. I picture sitting down on a hillside and seeing His house in the distance. Lit up and welcoming, but the welcome is what makes me afraid. I'd rather just come back and blend in with the others and not have a big fuss. And I am terrified of seeing my Father's face.
And that is why I love this passage so much: "And being yet a distance away, his father saw him and had compassion, and running, fell on his neck and kissed him."
It is up to us to make the journey back to the Lord, and if we do He comes running out to meet us, and embraces us, and kisses us.
Could we make the last few steps of that journey without Him running out to meet us? Of course not. The truth of the matter is that we can't make any of that journey without Him, and yet nevertheless it is on us to take those steps, even if we don't feel Him. To get close enough that He can run out to meet us. And bring us back in.
Approaching the Lord is such a huge part of our lives, and it can be desperately scary to come near to Him because our evil is so diametrically opposed to Him. So it hurts to be near the Lord, which doesn't make sense. Shouldn't He be goodness and warmth and comfort? He is all those things and more. Our discomfort is entirely our own, and yet it is a necessary part of regeneration.
Despite our fear and pain, no, because of it, He wants us to come to Him, and He will run to meet us.
I am meditating again on the story of the prodigal son. It is a familiar story to many. Even many non church goers know the basics: The extravagant squanderer returns home.
Sometimes I feel a little cliche or even guilty that some of my favorite stories from the Word or favorite passages are so common. But there's nothing wrong with that. They are favorites to many for a reason!
"When he had spent all, there arose a strong famine throughout that country, and he began to be lacking. And he went and joined himself to one of the citizens of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he longed to fill his belly from the husks which the swine did eat; and no one gave to him." (Luke 15: 14-16)
Years ago my friends and I started saying "Don't feed pigs" to each other. Which was sort of a way of saying "Don't settle. The Lord has more planned for you. Don't give up on yourself. Don't beat yourself up." And that's an important thing for people to tell you. "You are worth more than many sparrows." Nevertheless, feeding pigs was an important part of this man's journey. When you have nothing and realize that you could at least work for someone, somewhere, then that's a good start.
The first thing is to realize that you are starving, spiritually. "He longed to fill his belly."
"And when he came to himself he said, How many hirelings of my father have an excess of bread, but I perish with hunger! Standing up I will go to my father, and will say to him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thy hirelings." (17-19)
Once you realize that you are starving you decide to return to the Lord. You know what? that's pretty humiliating. When I screw up, the last people I want to go back to are the people I failed. But humble is exactly what we need to be.
I remember once thinking "If the Lord knew how badly I screwed up He wouldn't want me." But at the same time thinking that if I told a close friend the extent of my wrong doings she would still love me and help me back. That's when I remembered that the Lord is of course more loving and merciful than anyone else anywhere! But because of His power and glory it is WAY scarier to approach Him with my evil. I find it a lot safer to confide in a mere mortal of a friend. But that is why Jehovah God came on earth. So that He could conquer the hells as a human and by taking on this world as Jesus Christ He saved us. He fought every evil that we could ever face. That is what He did for us.
And now comes my favorite part of the story: "And he stood up and came to his father. And being yet a distance away, his father saw him and had compassion, and running, fell on his neck and kissed him." (20)
Can you imagine coming back and seeing your father's house in the distance, or maybe even seeing him and becoming paralyzed? I picture this scenario often. I hate adding anything to the text of the Word. But my picture of returning to the Lord is taking those steps to return to Him, getting just close enough and getting so afraid. I picture sitting down on a hillside and seeing His house in the distance. Lit up and welcoming, but the welcome is what makes me afraid. I'd rather just come back and blend in with the others and not have a big fuss. And I am terrified of seeing my Father's face.
And that is why I love this passage so much: "And being yet a distance away, his father saw him and had compassion, and running, fell on his neck and kissed him."
It is up to us to make the journey back to the Lord, and if we do He comes running out to meet us, and embraces us, and kisses us.
Could we make the last few steps of that journey without Him running out to meet us? Of course not. The truth of the matter is that we can't make any of that journey without Him, and yet nevertheless it is on us to take those steps, even if we don't feel Him. To get close enough that He can run out to meet us. And bring us back in.
"We ought to be merry and rejoice, because this thy brotherwas dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found." (32)
Approaching the Lord is such a huge part of our lives, and it can be desperately scary to come near to Him because our evil is so diametrically opposed to Him. So it hurts to be near the Lord, which doesn't make sense. Shouldn't He be goodness and warmth and comfort? He is all those things and more. Our discomfort is entirely our own, and yet it is a necessary part of regeneration.
Despite our fear and pain, no, because of it, He wants us to come to Him, and He will run to meet us.
"Let the little children come to Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God." (Luke 18:16)
Don't Get Stuck.
I write a lot of crap. I should probably start writing a draft of something and then deleting it and writing something better. But then I get into these weird mind games of perfection and if this or that is good enough. And that was the point of starting a blog in the first place. To avoid this feeling that I have to be perfect.
"Write out the crap," a friend once told me. Well, I've been writing crap for months, waiting for some breakthrough and inspirational piece that is mind-blowingly awesome. But that's just me being too goal oriented again and not enjoying the process.
I love to paint. I've been trying to paint out the crap too. Most of the time I paint random blobs of color and smears and call it "playing with paint" but even that has begun to feel like a cop out or something. I like to call it playing with paint because it relieves some of the pressure of it being art.
I'm not an artist. I'm not a writer. I'm just an ordinary person who writes words down, and who plays with paint on a canvas.
That's what an artist or writer does.
Yeah but they have skills.
So do you.
Not like them.
Don't you think that at one point they said the same things to themselves? If everyone let their self-doubt get in the way we wouldn't have any writers, artists, musicians, cooks, parents... people who do anything.
I don't want to become cocky and arrogant. I hate the idea of claiming that I have talents because it feels so bloody conceited.
You know what's even more bloody conceited? Saying no to the Lord's gifts.
I am allowed to play with paint. I am allowed to call myself an artist. I am allowed to write crap and I am allowed to call myself an author.
Because the Lord gave me talents and He asks me to use them. It isn't arrogant to thank the Lord for His gifts by using them. Using them to restore my soul, to unwind, to brighten other peoples' lives.
I'm pretty sure He wants us to be doing things. Because it's a lot easier to lead someone who is moving than one who is sitting and waiting to be moved.
But wait, in my very last blog post I quoted Exodus 14:13 - "Stand still and see the salvation of Jehovah." Well, 2 verses later it continues: "Tell the children of Israel to go forward."
Why? Because the Lord wants us to stop for a moment and acknowledge that all good is from Him and that we can do nothing without Him. And then He wants us to keep going.
"Tell the children of Israel to go forward."
"Write out the crap," a friend once told me. Well, I've been writing crap for months, waiting for some breakthrough and inspirational piece that is mind-blowingly awesome. But that's just me being too goal oriented again and not enjoying the process.
I love to paint. I've been trying to paint out the crap too. Most of the time I paint random blobs of color and smears and call it "playing with paint" but even that has begun to feel like a cop out or something. I like to call it playing with paint because it relieves some of the pressure of it being art.
I'm not an artist. I'm not a writer. I'm just an ordinary person who writes words down, and who plays with paint on a canvas.
That's what an artist or writer does.
Yeah but they have skills.
So do you.
Not like them.
Don't you think that at one point they said the same things to themselves? If everyone let their self-doubt get in the way we wouldn't have any writers, artists, musicians, cooks, parents... people who do anything.
I don't want to become cocky and arrogant. I hate the idea of claiming that I have talents because it feels so bloody conceited.
You know what's even more bloody conceited? Saying no to the Lord's gifts.
I am allowed to play with paint. I am allowed to call myself an artist. I am allowed to write crap and I am allowed to call myself an author.
Because the Lord gave me talents and He asks me to use them. It isn't arrogant to thank the Lord for His gifts by using them. Using them to restore my soul, to unwind, to brighten other peoples' lives.
I'm pretty sure He wants us to be doing things. Because it's a lot easier to lead someone who is moving than one who is sitting and waiting to be moved.
But wait, in my very last blog post I quoted Exodus 14:13 - "Stand still and see the salvation of Jehovah." Well, 2 verses later it continues: "Tell the children of Israel to go forward."
Why? Because the Lord wants us to stop for a moment and acknowledge that all good is from Him and that we can do nothing without Him. And then He wants us to keep going.
"Tell the children of Israel to go forward."
A Way Back To Life
In the darkness I gasp for breath. It's always about breathing. So interconnected are the heart and lungs that one cannot feel without the other. There is a slow and inconsistent fluttering in my chest. It is a bird in a tiny cage, trying to stretch, but it keeps flapping its wings in too small a space. Hitting the walls of my heart and bruising them. And then it rests, saving up strength to flutter again.
The fluttering is so gentle. How can it bruise so deeply?
The bird tries again. This time it is hitting its head against the wall. Desperate to be free!
"Stop!" I beg. I try to explain that the more it fights the more it hurts. The smaller the space will feel.
One breath. But it's too tight. I can feel the air as it fights its way free.
"Stop fighting me!" I cry. "I know. I can feel your suffering. You are part of me."
Quiet. Feel that. Patience. Rest.
But the beating grows faster and there is a ripping as the breath disrupts the bird in its cage and it panics, a whirring of wings and talons. And again I am running, trying to escape my heart and lungs as they overwhelm me from within.
The running does nothing to calm the wild bird or bring new air to my lungs. There is no running from the pain. But neither can I look the aching little bird in the eyes. There is no explaining. Will it ever understand?
Peace. Be still.
It always comes back to the need for rest.
Be calm.
But you cannot calm the storm. The winds and waves consume. There is no calm.
Go back. Go back! Move forward. Run. Flee! The emotions storm and pull. Everything is moving every which way at once and there is no peace. Wind beats against me. Salty waves crash over me, wearing me down. I cannot get free of these waves, and I am battered again and again and then I hit something solid and instead of pain it is something to grasp and I cling to it and clamor desperately for strength, for freedom, for light. A rock among the waves and the moment my head breaks the surface I can feel warmth. A wave crashes again and I am battered down below, but I felt the warmth. It is there if I can only stay afloat. And instead of fighting for the surface I let go and I can feel the strength of the rock and I climb on high. Once I am resting above the waves I can feel the full warmth of the sun drying me, warming me. Saving me.
The fluttering is so gentle. How can it bruise so deeply?
The bird tries again. This time it is hitting its head against the wall. Desperate to be free!
"Stop!" I beg. I try to explain that the more it fights the more it hurts. The smaller the space will feel.
One breath. But it's too tight. I can feel the air as it fights its way free.
"Stop fighting me!" I cry. "I know. I can feel your suffering. You are part of me."
Quiet. Feel that. Patience. Rest.
But the beating grows faster and there is a ripping as the breath disrupts the bird in its cage and it panics, a whirring of wings and talons. And again I am running, trying to escape my heart and lungs as they overwhelm me from within.
The running does nothing to calm the wild bird or bring new air to my lungs. There is no running from the pain. But neither can I look the aching little bird in the eyes. There is no explaining. Will it ever understand?
Peace. Be still.
It always comes back to the need for rest.
Be calm.
But you cannot calm the storm. The winds and waves consume. There is no calm.
Go back. Go back! Move forward. Run. Flee! The emotions storm and pull. Everything is moving every which way at once and there is no peace. Wind beats against me. Salty waves crash over me, wearing me down. I cannot get free of these waves, and I am battered again and again and then I hit something solid and instead of pain it is something to grasp and I cling to it and clamor desperately for strength, for freedom, for light. A rock among the waves and the moment my head breaks the surface I can feel warmth. A wave crashes again and I am battered down below, but I felt the warmth. It is there if I can only stay afloat. And instead of fighting for the surface I let go and I can feel the strength of the rock and I climb on high. Once I am resting above the waves I can feel the full warmth of the sun drying me, warming me. Saving me.
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| "Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of Jehovah, which He will do for you today." (Exodus 14:13) |
Under The Bridge Where I Used To Sit
Under the bridge where I used to sit,
It flowed so loudly, and now I hear its quietness.
I hear the same familiar sounds, but there are new ones too.
I hear the quiet whispers of gentler waters.
Was it always this quiet, but I just couldn't hear it?
I am listening now.
I took a few moments to try to write rhymes
But the words want to flow like the waters beside me.
There is structure in a creek, but sometimes it cuts a wider path,
Never minding if it’s doing things right.
I want to mind. I want to get things right.
But I also want to be the water that is so full it can’t be contained by a mere creek bed.
Under the bridge where I used to sit.
There is so much more for me than the mud under my feet.
The creek has more than the mud it glides over.
I am full of that life, but only if I choose it.
Instead I sit in my troubles, unable to hear.
I am listening now.
I am reminded of a song,
but the waters weren’t the ones who were troubled,
I was.
I was on the bridge looking down at calm waters.
But I could not hear them over the pounding of my heart.
Now I am still. I am closer.
Under the bridge where I used to sit
I hear the quietest sounds of the water as well as the loud.
Who knew a creek of barely a few feet could hold so much depth?
The water is truth, cutting its way, raging - now flowing gently.
I am listening now. I am listening.
Speak Lord.
It flowed so loudly, and now I hear its quietness.
I hear the same familiar sounds, but there are new ones too.
I hear the quiet whispers of gentler waters.
Was it always this quiet, but I just couldn't hear it?
I am listening now.
I took a few moments to try to write rhymes
But the words want to flow like the waters beside me.
There is structure in a creek, but sometimes it cuts a wider path,
Never minding if it’s doing things right.
I want to mind. I want to get things right.
But I also want to be the water that is so full it can’t be contained by a mere creek bed.
Under the bridge where I used to sit.
There is so much more for me than the mud under my feet.
The creek has more than the mud it glides over.
I am full of that life, but only if I choose it.
Instead I sit in my troubles, unable to hear.
I am listening now.
I am reminded of a song,
but the waters weren’t the ones who were troubled,
I was.
I was on the bridge looking down at calm waters.
But I could not hear them over the pounding of my heart.
Now I am still. I am closer.
Under the bridge where I used to sit
I hear the quietest sounds of the water as well as the loud.
Who knew a creek of barely a few feet could hold so much depth?
The water is truth, cutting its way, raging - now flowing gently.
I am listening now. I am listening.
Speak Lord.
He is Capable
Sometimes I feel like if I left go of something that I will be letting go of the Lord’s plan. But that’s not true. The Lord can and will work through my stupidity. I’m not advocating for stupidity. It’s never a good idea to launch into something thinking “Whatever. The Lord will save me from my stupidity.” I’m talking about trying to follow the Lord. I want to hear Him but I don’t know what He wants. So if I am trying to follow Him I can let go of a lot of things and if any of those things are in His plans He will bring them back to me or me back to them. If I am trying to follow Him I am not in danger of throwing away some big plan He has for me. If I am trying to follow Him He will lead me, even if I don’t see His providence working, it is. He is capable. If I am trying to hear Him then He will lead me.
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| "People in the stream of providence are being carried along constantly towards happier things, whatever appearance the means may present. Those in the stream of providence are people who trust in the Divine and ascribe everything to Him." Arcana Coelestia 8478:4 |
Look Into Each Other's Eyes.
Sometimes you put everyone else's needs and desires above your own. And sometimes you do it for so long and so often that you feel entitled to putting your own needs first for awhile.
I think that's a mistake. We are never entitled to putting ourself above others. There's no conversion chart for being nice for so long and then being allowed to store up on selfishness.
Yes there are moments when you have to take care of yourself. But there is a thin line where it becomes selfishness.
That thin line is a scary thing.
I have to stand up for myself. I have to hold my ground. I can't let myself be walked on or used or drained. But when does walling up inside become selfishness?
My calendar has gorgeous photos and often twippy little saying to go along with: "Be gentle with yourself and be gentle with others. Remember, you are all souls on a human journey, with lessons to learn along the way. Look into each other's eyes and see the innocent child that dwells within. Let compassion be your touchstone and your creed."
Compassion is something I have really resonated with for years. I mean, everyone strives for compassion, right? I hope so, anyway.
Several years ago I was reading Exodus chapter 2, the story of Pharaoh's daughter finding Moses. In verse 6 it says: "And she opened [the basket], and saw him, the child; and behold the boy was weeping. And she had compassion on him, and said, This is from the children of the Hebrews."
I was immediately struck by this because I definitely have a strong reaction to babies crying. I always want to hold the baby and take care of it. Sometimes to a fault where I just want to take the baby from its mother. Not because I don't think the mother can handle it, but because if a baby is crying I just want to hold it!
But there is more to this verse. In the Heavenly Doctrine for the New Church, it explains the deeper meaning to this verse:
This applies to more than crying infants. I see a friend hurting and my heart aches. I want to reach out to them as Pharoah's daughter did to Moses. It is my dream to nurture people. I feel called by the Lord to give aid. But I don't always know how to follow through on a calling. I am often crippled (as I've said many times before on this blog) by perfection. If I don't know how to do a thing right, I won't even try, and that is not what the Lord wants.
But the truth is, having compassion is vulnerable. As my calendar said, "Look into each other's eyes." It is vulnerable and sometimes draining to take on someone else's sorrow, or even their joys! Compassion is a hard thing to balance. I am still learning how to care.
I think that's a mistake. We are never entitled to putting ourself above others. There's no conversion chart for being nice for so long and then being allowed to store up on selfishness.
Yes there are moments when you have to take care of yourself. But there is a thin line where it becomes selfishness.
That thin line is a scary thing.
I have to stand up for myself. I have to hold my ground. I can't let myself be walked on or used or drained. But when does walling up inside become selfishness?
My calendar has gorgeous photos and often twippy little saying to go along with: "Be gentle with yourself and be gentle with others. Remember, you are all souls on a human journey, with lessons to learn along the way. Look into each other's eyes and see the innocent child that dwells within. Let compassion be your touchstone and your creed."
Compassion is something I have really resonated with for years. I mean, everyone strives for compassion, right? I hope so, anyway.
Several years ago I was reading Exodus chapter 2, the story of Pharaoh's daughter finding Moses. In verse 6 it says: "And she opened [the basket], and saw him, the child; and behold the boy was weeping. And she had compassion on him, and said, This is from the children of the Hebrews."
I was immediately struck by this because I definitely have a strong reaction to babies crying. I always want to hold the baby and take care of it. Sometimes to a fault where I just want to take the baby from its mother. Not because I don't think the mother can handle it, but because if a baby is crying I just want to hold it!
But there is more to this verse. In the Heavenly Doctrine for the New Church, it explains the deeper meaning to this verse:
"And she had compassion on him. That this signifies admonition from the Divine, is evident from the signification of "having compassion," as being an influx of charity from the Lord; for when anyone from charity sees another in misery (as here Pharaoh's daughter saw the child in the ark of rush and weeping), compassion arises; and as this is from the Lord, it is an admonition. Moreover, when they who are in perception feel compassion, they know that they are admonished by the Lord to give aid." Arcana Coelestia 6737I read this years ago and that last line has always stuck with me. "Admonished by the Lord to give aid."
This applies to more than crying infants. I see a friend hurting and my heart aches. I want to reach out to them as Pharoah's daughter did to Moses. It is my dream to nurture people. I feel called by the Lord to give aid. But I don't always know how to follow through on a calling. I am often crippled (as I've said many times before on this blog) by perfection. If I don't know how to do a thing right, I won't even try, and that is not what the Lord wants.
But the truth is, having compassion is vulnerable. As my calendar said, "Look into each other's eyes." It is vulnerable and sometimes draining to take on someone else's sorrow, or even their joys! Compassion is a hard thing to balance. I am still learning how to care.
Hinging My Life On One Hope.
“It’s okay to want something and work towards it, but if everything hinges on the achievement of that goal and all will have been for nought if the goal is not achieved, you’re doing it wrong.”
A friend recently said this to me and as obvious as it might seem to some, it was exceedingly striking to me.
I am a very goal oriented person. Sometimes the process is part of that goal, but too often it is a hurdle to get over. Traveling is a super obvious example. I actually have a lot of fondness for car trips, but I really just want to be there already. The same applies to many aspects of my life.
Because of this mentality I have instead been trying to to embrace the process and that means embracing a lot of mess and a lot of failure.
On a recent car trip I was listening to a podcast that was talking about raising perfectionist, and how to avoid that. It is really important to praise someone's process. Not so helpful to only praise the result. It was a little bit terrifying hearing the woman talk about the best way to talk to kids. I'm now petrified of saying the wrong thing. I have to reprogram my entire reaction to things to avoid screwing up the little people, and indeed the adults, in my life.
It's important to see and share the steps of a journey. Even the ugly ones. I don't mean that we should be airing our dirty laundry. I don't think that's useful either, but an example is a before and after photo of a house. People like seeing the steps. They like to see how it went from one thing to another. Because otherwise we're looking at some magic and we only see that someone got from point a to point b but we don't know how. "One thing led to another." Um, okay. How and why did one thing lead to another?
I have recently been saying a lot that I am embracing imperfection. Failure IS an option. But that isn't the goal. The goal is important too! I'm not saying go in to something with the intention of it failing. But just letting life continue if you do fail. I'm not saying that we should not aim for perfection or the ideal. Especially in our spiritual life it is important that we are trying and trying hard. But also being kind to ourselves and others when we aren't perfect. The Lord looks at us with infinite mercy. He wants us to succeed, and He gives us infinite encouragement and help. But He does not turn His back on us when we are not perfect. He is always giving us hope and a way back.
When I travel by car or by plane I just want to be there already. I would love to be able to apparate and skip the traveling part. That is true of some skills too. I would love to skip the learning process of ukulele. It's slow and I feel like a beginner all the time, even though I have been playing for over a year.
But with painting, I don't want to skip the process. If I skipped the process and just had finished paintings around my room I wouldn't care about them. But when I paint something I see the process as I go. I take a picture and I post a half finished painting to embrace the process and to know that I created something because I put in the effort. And I will continue to put in the effort and make it better. Painting is a process that I love even though it is never perfect. And it's only one of the many things that makes me happy. Life is more than one thing. It has to be.
A friend recently said this to me and as obvious as it might seem to some, it was exceedingly striking to me.
I am a very goal oriented person. Sometimes the process is part of that goal, but too often it is a hurdle to get over. Traveling is a super obvious example. I actually have a lot of fondness for car trips, but I really just want to be there already. The same applies to many aspects of my life.
Because of this mentality I have instead been trying to to embrace the process and that means embracing a lot of mess and a lot of failure.
On a recent car trip I was listening to a podcast that was talking about raising perfectionist, and how to avoid that. It is really important to praise someone's process. Not so helpful to only praise the result. It was a little bit terrifying hearing the woman talk about the best way to talk to kids. I'm now petrified of saying the wrong thing. I have to reprogram my entire reaction to things to avoid screwing up the little people, and indeed the adults, in my life.
It's important to see and share the steps of a journey. Even the ugly ones. I don't mean that we should be airing our dirty laundry. I don't think that's useful either, but an example is a before and after photo of a house. People like seeing the steps. They like to see how it went from one thing to another. Because otherwise we're looking at some magic and we only see that someone got from point a to point b but we don't know how. "One thing led to another." Um, okay. How and why did one thing lead to another?
I have recently been saying a lot that I am embracing imperfection. Failure IS an option. But that isn't the goal. The goal is important too! I'm not saying go in to something with the intention of it failing. But just letting life continue if you do fail. I'm not saying that we should not aim for perfection or the ideal. Especially in our spiritual life it is important that we are trying and trying hard. But also being kind to ourselves and others when we aren't perfect. The Lord looks at us with infinite mercy. He wants us to succeed, and He gives us infinite encouragement and help. But He does not turn His back on us when we are not perfect. He is always giving us hope and a way back.
When I travel by car or by plane I just want to be there already. I would love to be able to apparate and skip the traveling part. That is true of some skills too. I would love to skip the learning process of ukulele. It's slow and I feel like a beginner all the time, even though I have been playing for over a year.
But with painting, I don't want to skip the process. If I skipped the process and just had finished paintings around my room I wouldn't care about them. But when I paint something I see the process as I go. I take a picture and I post a half finished painting to embrace the process and to know that I created something because I put in the effort. And I will continue to put in the effort and make it better. Painting is a process that I love even though it is never perfect. And it's only one of the many things that makes me happy. Life is more than one thing. It has to be.
The Last Attempt
The machines whirred as the couple argued across the lifeless form of their disappointing son.
"He doesn't need an older sister to look up to. He needs a younger sister he can look down on."
"Charming! But you've had your say and it's my turn to design his childhood!" She held up a syringe filled with thick orange liquid. "I want to inject him with these memories and try a different tact this time!"
"Suit yourself! But I warn you that he will not be ready if you give him a mollycoddling older sister!"
"Ready for what?" she spat. "I don't want him ready for any of that, I want to give him something to be proud of! Something that he can choose."
"That's ridiculous! Just watch the last round of his life and see for yourself!" he said pushing past her to turn on the simulation.
"I was there. I saw it for myself first hand!" she said reaching up to stop him from pushing the button.
He slapped her hand away. "Then you know it was a disaster!" he said, continuing with the sequencing.
"Yes, which is why I want to try this! I don't think it will be a disaster to give him an older sister."
He gave her one cold look before turning back to the machines and answering. "Just remember that we have to live it too, and I don't want another child, even if she is older. We'll have to deal with her too!" He finished the sequence and hit the button and they were plunged into the full living memories of the last attempt.
"He doesn't need an older sister to look up to. He needs a younger sister he can look down on."
"Charming! But you've had your say and it's my turn to design his childhood!" She held up a syringe filled with thick orange liquid. "I want to inject him with these memories and try a different tact this time!"
"Suit yourself! But I warn you that he will not be ready if you give him a mollycoddling older sister!"
"Ready for what?" she spat. "I don't want him ready for any of that, I want to give him something to be proud of! Something that he can choose."
"That's ridiculous! Just watch the last round of his life and see for yourself!" he said pushing past her to turn on the simulation.
"I was there. I saw it for myself first hand!" she said reaching up to stop him from pushing the button.
He slapped her hand away. "Then you know it was a disaster!" he said, continuing with the sequencing.
"Yes, which is why I want to try this! I don't think it will be a disaster to give him an older sister."
He gave her one cold look before turning back to the machines and answering. "Just remember that we have to live it too, and I don't want another child, even if she is older. We'll have to deal with her too!" He finished the sequence and hit the button and they were plunged into the full living memories of the last attempt.
The Lord Doesn't Have Grandchildren.
I'm still reading through Numbers and hearing how the children of Israel are just not making it in to the promised land. It doesn't really confuse me because I grew up with this story. It's not confusing, but as I read it as an adult I see a lot more layers to it. I read this recently and it struck me again that the Lord promised this land.
“Surely none of the men that went up out of Egypt, from a son of twenty years and upward, shall see the ground which I promised to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob; for they have not fully come after me.” Numbers 32:11He keeps promising it to every generation. To Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. To Jacob's sons and all their children. But promised doesn't mean guaranteed. I read the Word and every single chapter reinforces this idea that while the Lord promises us heaven that doesn't mean we get there because our parents were promised it or because their parents were, or even because it was promised to us!
At baptism our parents make a promise to the Lord to teach us His commandments and His prayer and to raise us in the Word and His ways. In a New Church service of baptism the minister even says "This child is now enrolled and numbered in heaven." We absolutely have to raise our children to follow the Lord. We are supposed to baptize them and teach them how to read the Word and give them all the tools so that they can fight and be warriors for the Lord.
But even a baptized child can go astray. Look at the children of Israel. God's chosen people didn't all make it in to the land despite being circumcised (the forerunner of baptism), despite being chosen and promised the land.
Why didn't they make it in? Because they did nothing. Simply put, they didn't make it in to the land because they didn't go into the land.
The Lord gave us rules to follow. If we don't, we don't enter the promised land. It's relatively simple, though certainly not easy.
It is not enough to get by on the faith of our parents. It is not enough to just bring your kids to church or send them to a church school. They have to live it. They have to see it being lived by the people around them. They have to choose it for themselves.
The Lord doesn't have grandkids. Every single person is a child of the Lord. That means that each person is responsible for turning toward Him. And we better give our children the tools to choose Him.
Religion Doesn't Make Me Happy.
I recently read the following: "The hard reality is that we are not currently offering a form of church that is engaging our young people and so they find other things to do with their time."
And it just struck me: It's not the church's job to engage young people or anyone. We totally have an entitlement problem in the church, in our country, and in the world.
We want to change everything else to suit ourselves.
I don't go to church to hear what I want to hear. That isn't the point of it. I don't want them to cater to me. I go to church to learn about the Lord and because it's the right thing to do. It has nothing to do with whether or not it's engaging or captivating.
"Find other things to do with their time." Yes. I have so many other things to do with my time. But I choose church, not because it's exciting and fun. But because it's important to learn about the Lord and to worship Him, even if I don't feel like it.
Today there was a fantastic sermon about rewards. Guess what? Good people don't get rewards here. The Lord doesn't want us to be merit seeking so He doesn't give us exactly what we want. In fact, people doing evil often prosper. If it were as simple as bad people immediately being punished and good people receiving immediate reward then it wouldn't be a choice anymore, would it? It would be compulsion, and the Lord does not force us to follow Him.
I loved church today because while I know this stuff I still needed to hear it. And it wasn't a cheerful sermon about how great I am and how much the Lord loves me. It was hard. It pretty much told me that a life of piety is really not as appealing as a life of sin. I don't go to church to be comforted and made happy. Life is hard, and being good doesn't produce rewards. So going to church, reading the Word, and being a good person can be a long, hard, uphill battle, but it will be worth it. I know it. It's just hard in the meantime.
And it just struck me: It's not the church's job to engage young people or anyone. We totally have an entitlement problem in the church, in our country, and in the world.
We want to change everything else to suit ourselves.
I don't go to church to hear what I want to hear. That isn't the point of it. I don't want them to cater to me. I go to church to learn about the Lord and because it's the right thing to do. It has nothing to do with whether or not it's engaging or captivating.
"Find other things to do with their time." Yes. I have so many other things to do with my time. But I choose church, not because it's exciting and fun. But because it's important to learn about the Lord and to worship Him, even if I don't feel like it.
Today there was a fantastic sermon about rewards. Guess what? Good people don't get rewards here. The Lord doesn't want us to be merit seeking so He doesn't give us exactly what we want. In fact, people doing evil often prosper. If it were as simple as bad people immediately being punished and good people receiving immediate reward then it wouldn't be a choice anymore, would it? It would be compulsion, and the Lord does not force us to follow Him.
I loved church today because while I know this stuff I still needed to hear it. And it wasn't a cheerful sermon about how great I am and how much the Lord loves me. It was hard. It pretty much told me that a life of piety is really not as appealing as a life of sin. I don't go to church to be comforted and made happy. Life is hard, and being good doesn't produce rewards. So going to church, reading the Word, and being a good person can be a long, hard, uphill battle, but it will be worth it. I know it. It's just hard in the meantime.
"These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you might have peace; in the world you shall have affliction; but have confidence, I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)
Balance
It has been really hard for me to balance what I am supposed to be doing vs what the Lord is doing in my life. He is everything. I could not breathe without Him. I know that. He is everything. He does everything. And without Him I can do nothing. I could keep going. How many different ways are there to say that I can't do anything and He does everything?
So what do I do?
I have been reading True Christian Religion and if you are facebook friends with me you may have seen that I recently posted that this book continually blows my mind. I open it and I just keep coming across things that I often already know, but said in such a way that it sometimes takes my breath away. I was sitting at Starbucks reading the other day and I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.
One of the many passages I underlined was: "It must be borne in mind that in man the Lord alone is active and man of himself is merely passive; and that is is by means of the influx of life from God than man is also active." (TCR 110:6)
And I shared this one in my last blog post: “Divine order requires that a person should adjust himself to receive God and prepare himself to be a receptacle and abode into which God may enter and in which, as in His temple, God may dwell. From himself man must do this, and yet must acknowledge that it is from God.” (TCR 105)
The balance of doing everything. Realizing that the Lord cannot (or will not) push me out of bed in the morning. I have to do that. The Lord will not drive me to church. I have to do that. The Lord will not write for me, paint for me, be kind to people for me. And yet, He is the only reason that I can do any of those things. I could not paint if the Lord did not will it. I could not paint if He was not inside of me and encouraging me to let His love and talents flow through me. It is the Lord alone who does anything.
So how do I find that balance? It seems simple enough: Do all the things, and give all the glory to God. But in practice?
If I were to lie in bed all day every day, not even look at my phone and "like" someone's post. If I do nothing, is the Lord still working in me? ("If I make my bed in hell, behold You are there!") Well, yes.
But can I just coast along? Can I inner-tube my way into heaven?
Well, I have been reading the book of Numbers. It's about the children of Israel wandering in the wilderness and traveling toward the promised land. Sound familiar? It certainly does to me! I wander constantly. Hopefully toward the Promised Land! But that's the interesting thing. The Lord promised this land to the children. He promises Heaven to all of His children. A promise. He will bring us into the land! So why doesn't everyone end up in that land?
In chapter 13 spies go in to the land to scout and come back with a report. It's no good. It's too scary. We aren't going to make it. It's a familiar story to a lot of people. Only Joshua and Caleb say that it can be done: "For prevailing, we will prevail over it!" (13:30)
But the people doubt and in the very next chapter they say that they would rather have died in Egypt. Isn't that the way of things? "I don't like this. I want to go back to how things were, even if I was a slave!"
But Joshua and Caleb persist: "If Jehovah delights in us He will bring us into this land... and Jehovah is with us: fear them not."
The Lord is with us. If we can just accept that and go up and take the land. That is all He asks of us. Take it. Possess it. Go into the land! It's really not asking much, nevertheless we must do it! All they had to do was trust the Lord and go, and they didn't, so they weren't allowed to enter the land. Period. The land that was promised to them! They didn't get to go because they weren't willing to do the work that He asked them to do.
So often when I read these stories I identify with Caleb and Joshua. I identify with the prodigal son's older brother.
But that is what self examination is for. To realize that while I am definitely the arrogant older brother who "was angry, and was not willing to enter in" (sound familiar?!) I might go to church, read the Word, and wax philosophical, but I am also very much the younger brother, in much need of returning to the Father. I am absolutely both.
I like to think that I would be like Caleb and Joshua and be like "Guys! Look, the Lord promised us this. Let's just try trusting Him." But I am SO the other children doubting and being too afraid to enter.
The land is promised, but we still have to follow Him and trust Him if we're gonna make it in. It takes so much humility. Humility that I am working on and constantly failing to achieve. Trust that I am working on and constantly failing to achieve.
I don't write these blog posts to say what other people need to do. I write these to remind myself of my failings. I seldom trust the Lord. He says "Go!" and I say "I'd rather die in Egypt." There is so much fear in me. I think about these things a lot, not because I am good at them, but because I am terrible at them!
The following is one of my favorite passages in the Word, not because I am this way but because I want to be:
So what do I do?
I have been reading True Christian Religion and if you are facebook friends with me you may have seen that I recently posted that this book continually blows my mind. I open it and I just keep coming across things that I often already know, but said in such a way that it sometimes takes my breath away. I was sitting at Starbucks reading the other day and I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.
One of the many passages I underlined was: "It must be borne in mind that in man the Lord alone is active and man of himself is merely passive; and that is is by means of the influx of life from God than man is also active." (TCR 110:6)
And I shared this one in my last blog post: “Divine order requires that a person should adjust himself to receive God and prepare himself to be a receptacle and abode into which God may enter and in which, as in His temple, God may dwell. From himself man must do this, and yet must acknowledge that it is from God.” (TCR 105)
The balance of doing everything. Realizing that the Lord cannot (or will not) push me out of bed in the morning. I have to do that. The Lord will not drive me to church. I have to do that. The Lord will not write for me, paint for me, be kind to people for me. And yet, He is the only reason that I can do any of those things. I could not paint if the Lord did not will it. I could not paint if He was not inside of me and encouraging me to let His love and talents flow through me. It is the Lord alone who does anything.
So how do I find that balance? It seems simple enough: Do all the things, and give all the glory to God. But in practice?
If I were to lie in bed all day every day, not even look at my phone and "like" someone's post. If I do nothing, is the Lord still working in me? ("If I make my bed in hell, behold You are there!") Well, yes.
But can I just coast along? Can I inner-tube my way into heaven?
Well, I have been reading the book of Numbers. It's about the children of Israel wandering in the wilderness and traveling toward the promised land. Sound familiar? It certainly does to me! I wander constantly. Hopefully toward the Promised Land! But that's the interesting thing. The Lord promised this land to the children. He promises Heaven to all of His children. A promise. He will bring us into the land! So why doesn't everyone end up in that land?
In chapter 13 spies go in to the land to scout and come back with a report. It's no good. It's too scary. We aren't going to make it. It's a familiar story to a lot of people. Only Joshua and Caleb say that it can be done: "For prevailing, we will prevail over it!" (13:30)
But the people doubt and in the very next chapter they say that they would rather have died in Egypt. Isn't that the way of things? "I don't like this. I want to go back to how things were, even if I was a slave!"
But Joshua and Caleb persist: "If Jehovah delights in us He will bring us into this land... and Jehovah is with us: fear them not."
The Lord is with us. If we can just accept that and go up and take the land. That is all He asks of us. Take it. Possess it. Go into the land! It's really not asking much, nevertheless we must do it! All they had to do was trust the Lord and go, and they didn't, so they weren't allowed to enter the land. Period. The land that was promised to them! They didn't get to go because they weren't willing to do the work that He asked them to do.
So often when I read these stories I identify with Caleb and Joshua. I identify with the prodigal son's older brother.
But that is what self examination is for. To realize that while I am definitely the arrogant older brother who "was angry, and was not willing to enter in" (sound familiar?!) I might go to church, read the Word, and wax philosophical, but I am also very much the younger brother, in much need of returning to the Father. I am absolutely both.
I like to think that I would be like Caleb and Joshua and be like "Guys! Look, the Lord promised us this. Let's just try trusting Him." But I am SO the other children doubting and being too afraid to enter.
The land is promised, but we still have to follow Him and trust Him if we're gonna make it in. It takes so much humility. Humility that I am working on and constantly failing to achieve. Trust that I am working on and constantly failing to achieve.
I don't write these blog posts to say what other people need to do. I write these to remind myself of my failings. I seldom trust the Lord. He says "Go!" and I say "I'd rather die in Egypt." There is so much fear in me. I think about these things a lot, not because I am good at them, but because I am terrible at them!
The following is one of my favorite passages in the Word, not because I am this way but because I want to be:
"And I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? And I said, Here am I; send me."
When the road gets torn up.
I think it was in the fall that our road got repaved. It took days as they tore up one side, then the other. Paved one side, then the other.
And then it was another few days (weeks?) before they painted the yellow lines, painted the white lines. Then painted over the lines and re-did them?!
Anyhow, our road has been relatively smooth all winter and it's been a nice road. It's been a quiet road because of the bridge being closed (I love the bridge being closed!)
Last night all of the sudden there was a crew tearing up the road. I didn't know why. It was a pain to get out of my driveway, and I was sure they'd be gone when I got home but there were still working when I came home late.
This morning I look out at the road and the once smooth road is covered in muddy tire tracks which will wash away, and a crappy little patch of asphalt which will mellow in time.
It is funny to look out at the road and think "Why couldn't they have done this work before the road was beautifully re-paved? What an ugly mar on an otherwise lovely road!"
But that's not how life works. There was a gas leak and it needed to be fixed! When the road was re-paved was of no concern, nor should it have been!
So why did I think this was worth writing about? Because it's what I'm looking at out of my window, and sometimes you just gotta write things! But also, I was thinking about spiritual life.
It's so much easier to not stir things up. I want the smooth pavement, and I don't want to dig underneath it to fix the problems. It's so much easier to ignore the spiritual gas-leak.
Ignoring it is easier.
But actually it's not. It's killing you! It is slowly killing you, or it could literally blow up in your face!
It's a lot easier to see the truth of that when I look out at a patched up road. Maybe it's because I can see that it's all fine now. Maybe it's because it's not me. It's just a road that I take for granted.
I take way too much of my spiritual life for granted. It's easier to coast by with the smallest amount of maintenance. But that's not what the Lord has in mind for us.
And then it was another few days (weeks?) before they painted the yellow lines, painted the white lines. Then painted over the lines and re-did them?!
Anyhow, our road has been relatively smooth all winter and it's been a nice road. It's been a quiet road because of the bridge being closed (I love the bridge being closed!)
Last night all of the sudden there was a crew tearing up the road. I didn't know why. It was a pain to get out of my driveway, and I was sure they'd be gone when I got home but there were still working when I came home late.
This morning I look out at the road and the once smooth road is covered in muddy tire tracks which will wash away, and a crappy little patch of asphalt which will mellow in time.
It is funny to look out at the road and think "Why couldn't they have done this work before the road was beautifully re-paved? What an ugly mar on an otherwise lovely road!"
But that's not how life works. There was a gas leak and it needed to be fixed! When the road was re-paved was of no concern, nor should it have been!
So why did I think this was worth writing about? Because it's what I'm looking at out of my window, and sometimes you just gotta write things! But also, I was thinking about spiritual life.
It's so much easier to not stir things up. I want the smooth pavement, and I don't want to dig underneath it to fix the problems. It's so much easier to ignore the spiritual gas-leak.
Ignoring it is easier.
But actually it's not. It's killing you! It is slowly killing you, or it could literally blow up in your face!
It's a lot easier to see the truth of that when I look out at a patched up road. Maybe it's because I can see that it's all fine now. Maybe it's because it's not me. It's just a road that I take for granted.
I take way too much of my spiritual life for granted. It's easier to coast by with the smallest amount of maintenance. But that's not what the Lord has in mind for us.
C.S. Lewis is the man! And this passage from True Christian Religion 105 says almost the same thing:
“Divine order requires that a person should adjust himself to receive God and prepare himself to be a receptacle and abode into which God may enter and in which, as in His temple, God may dwell. From himself man must do this, and yet must acknowledge that it is from God.”
What shall we eat the seventh year?
There are so many passages in the Word that remind us to trust. The Lord tells us so many times not to worry. He is leading us. He will take care of us. We're just supposed to listen and do what He says and things will work out for us. And yet, we worry. Which is probably why the Lord tells us SO many times not to.
And He doesn't just tell us to trust blindly. He also tells us what He will do for us too!
I don't doubt the Lord. I know that what He says is true, but it can be hard to feel it sometimes.
I was reading through Leviticus. Now, I don't know how familiar you are with Leviticus, but I remember as a child starting out at the beginning of the Word with excitement and I was gonna go right through and read it all. Genesis was full of stories and images and familiar things that I loved. Exodus too! Familiar, encouraging! The Ten Commandments! Yeah there are a few "begats" to get through. I remember glazing over for parts. And then I hit Levitcus and wondered what on earth happened to my narrative! Laws? I mean, I love the ten commandments, but these laws are so weird and not really that comprehensible to me. I get some of them, and which laws are still to be observed etc is a whole nother conversation.
So, Leviticus has always been a book to slog through. I gained some appreciation for it in college when I studied the Torah. I still think Leviticus 10 one of the coolest stories in the Word! But that's another blog post too.
Anyhow, this morning I came across the passage "What shall we eat in the seventh year?" and for whatever reason it really struck me!
In Chapter 25 we find more laws. And I'm reading along about when to sew your vineyards and your fields and when you can harvest them and that every 7th year is a sabbath year, which means that you neither gather the harvest nor plant for the following year. When I first started reading the chapter I wasn't really thinking about the fact that they wouldn't have food if they weren't allowed to harvest it. And then along comes verse 20: "What shall we eat the seventh year? behold, we shall not sow, nor gather in our increase."
And for some reason that verse just really struck me and I'm not entirely sure why! And then what follows: "Then I will command My blessing upon you in the sixth year, and it shall make increase for three years. And you shall sow the eighth year, and eat yet of the old increase until the ninth year; until her increase come in you shall eat of the old."
I hadn't even thought about the fact that one year of no work meant two years without food. No food the current year, and none the year after cause they didn't plant for it.
But the Lord always has a solution.
I think this is what really struck me in this story. The Lord provides for us. Well duh!
Well duh! And here I'm going off on a limb because this story is talking about a very orderly process where the Lord asks us to take a sabbath and He provides for the future, but He also provides for us when the famine and lack is of our own doing. He is ALWAYS providing for us and trying to help us.
So yeah, I know the story in Leviticus is talking about something a little different, but nevertheless it reminded me of this idea that the Lord is constantly providing for us and leading us and turning us toward good and bringing good out of all the situations!
And here's the thing that was really exciting to me! He doesn't just fix our blunders after we make them, or walk along beside us fixing them as we go. I mean, He does do that. He is right beside us always, helping us course correct, but the point is that He foresaw everything, and prepared us ahead of time for what would come after.
I remember when my brother got a lacerated spleen it was really upsetting to me. I don't remember why it was so scary even when I knew it would be fine. But I was really upset and a friend said to me "You know that the Lord prepared you for this before it happened, right?"
And it hadn't occurred to me. I know He is always there, and ready to step in and help us overcome anything, but He was there before.
Be not anxious for your soul, what you shall eat and what you shall drink; nor for your body, what you shall put on. Is not the soul more than food, and the body more than clothing? Matthew 6:25
Come to Me, all ye who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28
Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Luke 12:32
Let not your heart be disturbed, neither let it be afraid. John 14:27
Cast thy burden on Jehovah, And He shall sustain thee. Psalm 55:22
Yea, though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4
The day when I fear, I will trust in Thee. Psalm 56:3
And He doesn't just tell us to trust blindly. He also tells us what He will do for us too!
I don't doubt the Lord. I know that what He says is true, but it can be hard to feel it sometimes.
I was reading through Leviticus. Now, I don't know how familiar you are with Leviticus, but I remember as a child starting out at the beginning of the Word with excitement and I was gonna go right through and read it all. Genesis was full of stories and images and familiar things that I loved. Exodus too! Familiar, encouraging! The Ten Commandments! Yeah there are a few "begats" to get through. I remember glazing over for parts. And then I hit Levitcus and wondered what on earth happened to my narrative! Laws? I mean, I love the ten commandments, but these laws are so weird and not really that comprehensible to me. I get some of them, and which laws are still to be observed etc is a whole nother conversation.
So, Leviticus has always been a book to slog through. I gained some appreciation for it in college when I studied the Torah. I still think Leviticus 10 one of the coolest stories in the Word! But that's another blog post too.
Anyhow, this morning I came across the passage "What shall we eat in the seventh year?" and for whatever reason it really struck me!
In Chapter 25 we find more laws. And I'm reading along about when to sew your vineyards and your fields and when you can harvest them and that every 7th year is a sabbath year, which means that you neither gather the harvest nor plant for the following year. When I first started reading the chapter I wasn't really thinking about the fact that they wouldn't have food if they weren't allowed to harvest it. And then along comes verse 20: "What shall we eat the seventh year? behold, we shall not sow, nor gather in our increase."
And for some reason that verse just really struck me and I'm not entirely sure why! And then what follows: "Then I will command My blessing upon you in the sixth year, and it shall make increase for three years. And you shall sow the eighth year, and eat yet of the old increase until the ninth year; until her increase come in you shall eat of the old."
I hadn't even thought about the fact that one year of no work meant two years without food. No food the current year, and none the year after cause they didn't plant for it.
But the Lord always has a solution.
"My blessing upon you in the sixth year."
I think this is what really struck me in this story. The Lord provides for us. Well duh!
Well duh! And here I'm going off on a limb because this story is talking about a very orderly process where the Lord asks us to take a sabbath and He provides for the future, but He also provides for us when the famine and lack is of our own doing. He is ALWAYS providing for us and trying to help us.
Saying that God allows something to happen does not mean that He wants it to happen but that He cannot prevent it because of His goal, which is our salvation. . . . [Divine providence] is constantly focused on its goal; so that every moment of its work, at every single step of its course, when it notices that we are straying from that goal it leads and turns and adapts us in accord with its laws, leading us away from evil and toward good. . . . This cannot be accomplished without allowing bad things to happen. (Divine Providence 234)
So yeah, I know the story in Leviticus is talking about something a little different, but nevertheless it reminded me of this idea that the Lord is constantly providing for us and leading us and turning us toward good and bringing good out of all the situations!
And here's the thing that was really exciting to me! He doesn't just fix our blunders after we make them, or walk along beside us fixing them as we go. I mean, He does do that. He is right beside us always, helping us course correct, but the point is that He foresaw everything, and prepared us ahead of time for what would come after.
"My blessing upon you in the sixth year."
I remember when my brother got a lacerated spleen it was really upsetting to me. I don't remember why it was so scary even when I knew it would be fine. But I was really upset and a friend said to me "You know that the Lord prepared you for this before it happened, right?"
And it hadn't occurred to me. I know He is always there, and ready to step in and help us overcome anything, but He was there before.
"Before I formed thee in the womb, I knew thee." Jeremiah 1:5
Who Am I?
I often ask myself the question "What do I want to be when I grow up?" I am 31 and I still don't know the answer to what I want to BE. I am up. I still need to grow a lot, no doubt about it, but what am I growing toward?
I was journaling by hand recently and wondering what I should focus on, even just for now. What am I gonna be when I grow up and what am I gonna do while I'm waiting?
And that's just it, I have this feeling that I'm waiting, rather than doing the things now. "When will my life begin?" floats through my brain.
Well, my life began 31 years ago. I can't be waiting for something. So then there's now to look at. So what AM I doing? and who am I anyway?
I am always having a battle with my thoughts and emotions, and I recently have been trying to notice them and not own them. The thoughts don't have to be invited in for tea. I get to decide which ones stay and which ones go. I am not my thoughts.
My emotions often get the better of me. I don't think of myself as ruled by my emotions, which has gotten the better of me, because I didn't see it coming. I think of myself as WAY intellectual. Not smart, just very intellect driven. But it turns out I have emotions too and they call a lot of the shots and that's not a good thing. I have been trying to keep them in check. But it turns out they can't be kept it check, only observed and noticed. I can't turn them off and I certainly mustn't let them control me so much. I am not my emotions.
So as I come to that realization I feel empty. If I am not my thoughts and my feelings then what am I? A hollow shell is how it feels. Haha, who cares how it feels?
I know, I am not my thoughts and I am not my feelings. I am my actions. But how do I decide what actions are worth taking?
Of course, of course, it all comes back to the Lord. His Word tells me what actions are worth taking. But I am no puppet. The Lord cannot work through me without my help.
It feels right that there should be this emptying out of self. I currently feel devoid of self and of life. I am not my anything. I am not. As much as this feeling really sucks, I know that it's necessary.
I am sure there are passages in the Heavenly Doctrine that speak about how we cringe at the idea of the Lord coming closer because we feel the loss of self, and yet the highest angels feel life as their own more than anyone else. I wish I could find the passage(s) I'm thinking about but this is another one of a slightly different ilk:
Who has any other feeling or perception than that when he thinks he thinks from himself, that when he wills he wills from himself, and that when he speaks and acts he speaks and acts from himself? But it is from a law of Divine Providence that man should not know otherwise, since without such feeling and perception, he could not receive, or appropriate any thing to himself, or produce any thing from himself, thus he would not be a recipient of life and an agent of life from the Lord. He would be like an automaton, or an image without understanding and will, standing with hands hanging down, in expectation of influx, which would not be imparted; for life, in consequence of non-reception and non-appropriation on man's part, would not be retained, but would pass through, whence man, from being alive, would become as it were dead, and from being a rational soul would become irrational, thus either a brute or a stock. For he would be without the delight of life, the delight which every one has from receiving, appropriating, and producing as if from himself; and yet delight and life act in unity, for take away all the delight of life, and you will become cold and die. (Apocalypse Explained 1138:4)
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