Well tonight I finally acted on this on-going craving I have had for an avacado. It was only ok, but I'm still glad I did it. And I bought 3 so I plan to have another one tomorrow. It made me think of Chipotle, which in turn made me think of Kara and Mallory. Funny how things like that happen. I also signed up for a Kroger Plus card tonight. I think I have an old one somewhere, but this one is new and shiny and I know where it is. This is really all there is right now... really. I strangely don't care though. My thoughts have finally slowed down the past few days. It feels good to care about small, stupid stuff. I have good friends.

Conclusion to Saturday

Well, tonight was slightly more successful.

Some positives include good dinner, good friends and good old friends. Music, guitar, thinking, candy, praying.. etc.

Some more...eh.. well, not so great things about tonight include me calling someone the b-word. I only sorta feel bad about this, but I figure me typing this publicly as sort of a confession will help keep myself mentally accountable... or something. Also I'm using this blog as an admission of guilt because, well, I only SORTA feel bad about it. I don't know, God and I talking about it. Hopefully He'll help release some of that unnecessary resentment. Not good. But it was immature and unnecessary of me. So, sorry.

K, I feel better now, thanks.

My successful Saturday so far..

Get up at a reasonable hour. Fail.
Eat. Fail.
Do some math homework. Fail.
Clean my room. Fail.
Laundry. Fail.
Online shop. Fail. (although probably a good thing)
Catch up with some people. Also fail.


dang it.



I guess I like to spend all my time up in my own brain.

Things that are not in the least bit appealing and maybe even slightly repulsive to me at the current moment:

-research
-children
-weddings/wedding dresses
-pumpkins in the form of food
-cleaning
-obligations
-growing up sorta
-statistics
-the anticipation and preparation involved for my next art appreciation test
-wet
-ants

thanks

Here I am at 5:43 this morning, wondering about love still. I'm wondering what kind of love calls me at 4:00 in the morning heartbroken. I'm wondering what kind of love tells his children they aren't enough in the face of addiction. I'm wondering what love is if it just keeps disappointing. Is there hope for anybody to experience uncondtional love on this earth?

There's gotta be more to life than broken bones and healing wounds.

Is this where I'm headed? Is this 4:00 am phone call my fate? Are all those who love doomed for this torment? That doesn't seem fair. I know things are good when God is present and God is involved, but the sin and human tendencies always slowly blot and block out the good at some point. I know God is perfect, and His love is perfect, and I know love on earth is a gift and blessing, but will anyone really get to experience it? It doesn't seem fair that it's hard sometimes, when you're the one trying, when you're the one constantly on the other end of it. It'll never be easy, this I know. In fact, Jesus promised that. But is it wrong for me to question whether or not it's possible sometimes? I'm going to feel so stupid for saying this in about an hour or so but sometimes I can't help but think relationships like this are so stupid and wasteful sometimes. What kind of love keeps someone awake in agony all night? What kind of love does that to someone? Why isn't God comforting like He says he does? Why am I still getting that call? I know that He says to do good to those that hate us, to pray for those that mistreat us. He says that if someone takes our cloak, do not stop them from taking our tunic. Give to everyone what belongs to you, do not demand it back.

BUT hey, what about the part where it says "Do to others as you would have them do to you"?!?! What about that part?? What about the part that says "ask and it will be given to you; seek you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you"?!?! What happens when I see the ones I care for playing this out and they are still awake?? What if the thing you gave away was your heart? You can't kindly ask for that back? The people I know aren't incredibly demanding. God when do you come into play with this? When do you calm the storm there?

I'm still skeptical. Jesus you call us to submit to you, and by doing so to love and serve others. But where's the line between loving people like you do and then it turning into something more? How can someone just revert to simply loving someone like I do my best friend when all they've ever known is to love them more than that? What happens when boundaries are set in place after never having them? What happens when they feel so lost?

It doesn't seem fair for others. When I've watched people pour themselves into someone else for terrible, hearbreaking results. It seems like a wasted investment, an unnecessary heartache. And I hate feeling helpless on the outskirts. I hate feeling like I can't say the right thing on the other end of the phone to make it better. I hate feeling like I can't fix the addiction. I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do to make the outcome better. I hate that all I can do is cry with them on the other line. I thought you brought comfort to those who sought you and asked. Why aren't you? Why am I still getting that phone call? I don't like it.

I don't want that. I don't understand it. I don't want to be on that end of it ever. And I don't like seeing the ones I love that way, torn apart by decisions they've made, torn apart by relationships they've chosen.

I don't get it. I don't want that. And I don't like feeling helpless. I don't like feeling like I'm not seeing positive results in the ones that I love and invest in, when I earnestly ask, when they earnestly ask. I don't like that it's starting to cause ill, bitter feelings towards others that I love. What's missing God? What's preventing from you lifting that burden? Is it a time thing again? Oh no, that is soooo annoying

And yet, here at 6 something in the morning now all I can think about is how in the midst of tears, silence, shaky voices, and absolute state of brokeness is how he said it was worth it...

"But at the same time we feel afraid. Surrendering completely to love, be it human or divine, means giving up everything, including our own well-being or our ability to make decisions. It means loving in the deepest sense of the word. The truth is that we don't want to be saved in the way God has chosen; we want to keep absolute control over our every step, to be fully conscious of our decisions, to be capable of choosing the object of our devotion. It isn't like that with love- it arrives, moves in, and starts directing everything. Only very strong souls allow themselves to be swept along."

For those who care:

I've been adding in excerpts from this monologue several times throughout the lifespan of this here blog. Written by Mr. D. Miller, I've decided to finally just put the whole dang thing in here for once because the idea of it has been reoccuring in my head lately. Maybe I'll expand more on that later, but for now I will just simply be annoying and put in yet another Donald Miller quote. In this particular play a man and his wife had been experiencing unbearable tension within their marriage. And just when you expect it to be on the verge of ending, the husband insteads kneels beside his sleeping wife and whispers this. I think this is very beautiful. Enjoy.


What great gravity is this that drew my soul toward yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised, to earn your keeping, your resting, your staying, your will fleshed into mine, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I together to pacify each other, to lead each other toward the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay?

I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.

I went looking, I wrote out a list, I drew and image, I bled a poem of you. You were pretty, and my friends believed I was worthy of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught you to lay your lily hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you , lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe that I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed.

I want desperately for you to be my friend. But you are not my friend; you have slid up warmly to the man I wanted to be, the man I pretended to be, and I was your Jesus and, you were mine. Should I show you who I am, we may crumble. I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.

I want to be known and loved anyway. Can you do this? I trust by your easy breathing that you are human, like me. My love, do I know you? What is this great gravity that pulls us so painfully toward each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever in fleshing this out? And how will we with words, narrow words, come into the knowing of each other? Is this God's way of meriting grace, of teaching us the labyrinth of His love for us, teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him? Or better yet, has he formed our being fractional so that we might conclude one great hope, plodding and sighing and breathing into one another in such a great push that we might break through into the known and being loved, only to cave into a greater perdition and fall down at His throne still begging for our acceptance? Begging for our completion?

We were fools to believe that we would redeem each other.

Were I some sleeping Adam, to wake and find you resting at my rib, to share these things that God has done, to walk you through the garden, to counsel your timid steps, your bewildered eye, your heart so slow to love, so careful to love, so sheepish that I stepped up my aim and became a man. Is this what God intended? That though He made you from my rib, it is you who is making me, humbling me, destroying me, and in so doing revealing Him.

Will we be in ashes before we are one?

What great gravity is this that drew my heart towards yours? What great force collapsed in my orbit, my lonesome state? What is this that wants in me the want in you? Don't we go at each other with yielded eyes, with cumbered hands and feet, with clunky tongues? This deed is unattainable! We cannot know each other!

I am quiting this thing, but not what you think. I am not going away.

I will give you this, my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery in the warmest chamber of my heart, the very chamber where God has stowed Himself in me. And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.

I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, demanding your love, trading for your love, gaming for your love. I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again. I suppose the clock itself will wear thin it is time before I am ended at this altar of dying and dying again.

God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand this gravity that drew Him, unto us.