Thursday, February 24, 2011

a small safe place in a troubling world

Rainy sounds drown out the silently disappointing snow.  I miss autumn - bring back those leaves and those breezes and those October days warm enough to pretend it's summer and those clouds and those sunrises over the mountains you can watch with your hands cupped around a mug of tea and your breath billowing out, visible.

My arsenal is filled with vitamin c and hot water.

There's been a certain unexpectedness to these last weeks, a learning that only sleeplessness can bring, a laughter that only being caught talking to yourself by a stranger can bring, a loneliness that only silence can bring.

I have a lot to say about this, but I've tried countless times to find the right words.  They are elusive.  I'm sorry I cannot be perfectly articulate like you are.

In the end, it comes down to this:
Dear friend,
Know that you are loved.  Know that I want you to find a small safe place in the midst of a troubling world and I will do everything that I can to help bring that about.  I don't know what that looks like, I'm not sure I've seen it yet, but you deserve safety and comfort and the stability of knowing that you will not be betrayed or exploited or bullied.  You are worth so much.  Keep breathing.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


You. Yes, you. I am writing this for you.

I know you are reading this. And I want you to know I am writing this for you. No one else will understand. No one else knows. They think that this is for them. But it’s not. I am writing this for you.

I want you to know, life…it’s hard. Every day can be a challenge. It can be a challenge to get up in the morning. To get yourself out of bed. To put on that smile. But I want you to know, that smile is what keeps me going some days. You need to remember, even through the tough times, you are amazing. You really are.

You should be happy. You are gorgeous.

I know that the weather might not be perfect. You might have to turn your back to the wind or feel the cold nipping at your nose. But you know what, at least you are there to feel it. At least you can enjoy the sun’s warm rays on your face. Or that cold February wind biting at your cheeks. You know what that means?

You are alive.

Everything will be okay.

source: here

Monday, February 14, 2011


Thanks, Jill, for serious talks with childish snacks.  Thanks, Allyson, for being amazing (because you are amazing).  Thanks, Bubba, for the best hugs.  Thanks, Em, for your caring even when you're feeling your worst.

And thanks to You, for your patience when I am the slowest learner, when I'm still not sure what I've learned.
It's empty in the valley of your heart.
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind.

The harvest left no food for you to eat.
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same;
I know the shame in your defeat.

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck.

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways;
I'll know my name as it's called again.

Cause I have other things to fill my time.
You take what is yours and I'll take mine.
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind.

So tie me to a post and block my ears.
I can see widows and orphans through my tears.
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears.

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down.
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand.
So make your siren's call
And sing all you want:
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be.
And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck.

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways;
I'll know my name as it's called again.
-- The Cave, Mumford & Sons

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

When I sit in the library

I know it's dark outside because half of what I see is tables and chairs and florescent lights and cold drafts outside the window. I glanced down, and in those ten seconds the street lights clicked on.

Evening is a fading.  Is there a moment when it's afternoon and the next is evening?  When does evening turn to night?

If I have learned one thing this quarter, it's that definite answers are dangerous. Straight lines are rare. We're all a little blurred.

Five minutes ago, I would have walked home through the alley without a second thought. Now, though, I'll take the long way home, after three hours of stolen sight tick past.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Moats and Boats and Waterfalls

I don't think "my ears feel weird" is a valid medical complaint.  Not one that will allow me to skip out on my midterm tomorrow at least.

Patience.  We're begging.

Jill and I have been playing on the swings across the street.  I swear, there's no better feeling - the closest we'll come to flying.  Racing through the cold air, lungs stinging with each breath, hands going numb wrapped around chains, legs tiring from pumping.  Nothing beats it.

My three skills: cookie baking, sentence diagramming, and locating books in libraries super fast.  My future looks incredibly promising.

Perspective on life has gotten really small; I'm trying to blow it back out instead of sitting here stewing in frustrations and judgments.
I am the Lord,
Your Holy One,
Israel's Creator,
Your King.
Isaiah 43:15
When sleep is not a cure all, water.  And more water.  And perhaps a little tea.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

perfect imperfections

I'm still waiting to find your flaws, to revel in your imperfections and soak up your humanity.  I want moments that make you ugly so that we can be the same.  Let me see those beautiful flaws so I am not the only one imperfect. 

Show me.

I promise I'll love you more for it.