i am a transparent eyeball

Feb 28

Found this old note from 1/4/12 in my phone

Written after my grandma passed away.

You must have to be very brave to tell your mother that it’s okay, she can cry. To see her cry would be absolutely frightening but if she needs to, and if you are brave enough, then it is right to release her into that freedom to be sad. Too much lies upon her shoulders: this family’s wellbeing, and all the other families connected with yours. Children, heavy insensitive weights, carry the mightiest sword that shatters even the thickest glass hearts of mothers. But, when that moment comes, when that sword and the child realize who is the real enemy, then you can stand guard as your mother rests her bright eyes, now brighter with tears. To stand there with your sword, yes you must have to be very brave because you admit that all your life, you’ve been fighting false enemies and the real ones come when your sword points away from your mother. But it is at that moment, that mothers don’t grow weaker with sadness or tears, but fiercer. They become braver than you could ever dream of being as they begin to fight their dragons , but also their children’s dragons. And in the end, it comes full circle as you cry out to your mother that you are tired that you can’t fight anymore not a single minute more, and she will say yes, yes to fighting your fight for you while you rest your weary eyes.


Feb 10

There was so much snot, simultaneously clogging my nose and running free down onto his jacket/my jacket, as his earnest voice prayed truth into my weak and pale heart. Hi forehead pressed against mine and his hair was wet with either my tears or the rain. Forehead to forehead, hand in hand. Reassuring me and anchoring me. Jesus is here, Jesus loves you, Jesus has you in his arms, and Jesus is meeting you, now. Always.

His hands were gripping tight and securing me from the flights of anxiety and terror. The words and truth of the cross, lifting shadows and loosening bonds, bringing my weary and suffocated heart relief. God is with us, He is everything. We need him.

I could fight no longer on my own, my breath was short and I was gasping for air. Jesus, you provide the air we breathe and Jesus, you breathe new life into us.

Spirit, you live in our hearts and you never leave. You are here, in the midst of foggy darkness, in this haze of unknowing, we can be sure.

God you are faithful, God you are good. You are worth everything, and you see us as worth everything —to the point of leaving your Son on the cross to die, so that we might know You. We are your treasure in the field, we are your found pearl.

This truth suddenly broke his strong voice, not in weakness, but in utter awe and wonder and the magnitude of such love. And at that point, I wasn’t sure whose hot tears were dripping on my jacket, but we were both being led to see the cross, the empty tomb and the promise of resurrected hope.

I wonder why our bodily response is in tears.

My tears began as an initial response to feeling overwhelmed, fear, and insecurity, but changed into ones of relief and slow joy. It’s a miracle, that the salty water falling from our eyes can be transformed in this way. It’s a miracle too, that our eyes can pour out so much water. Jesus, pour down more, open the floodgates of heaven, let it rain in truth, let your truth reign. Let our eyes be cleared of lies, let them see your splendor!

Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Lord Almighty, you love us and that is enough.


Dec 28

Day 4

"Man’s maker was made man that He, Ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother’s breast; that the Bread might hunger, the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on its journey; that Truth might be accused of false witness, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength might grow weak; that the Healer might be wounded; that Life might die…The first coming of Christ the Lord, God’s son and our God, was in obscurity; the second will be in the sight of the whole world. When he came in obscurity no one recognized him but his own servants; when he comes openly he will be known by both good people and bad. When he came in obscurity, it was to be judged; when he comes openly, it will be to judge." 

- St. Augustine (354-430) 


Dec 20

To not do: replace Advent fasting with Christmas feasting

P.s. ! It’s fun having secret-ish places to post things without that glaring broadcast effect. Kinda like how I pretend I’m low-key Lena Dunham or Mindy Kaling (except with lots more food involved) on twitter. Hello!


Dec 19

How do I do this again?

I’ve forgotten what it means to be that gloriously free, drippy romantic and I’m reading old posts filled with sweeping sentences and remembering who I was/am. Such bravado in the metaphors! How confident I sound in a description of that aching and utterly essential collegiate drama.

Confident in my voice, that there is something important to say and express, my opinion and thoughts- but wait, most importantly my feelings! My feelings were/are important.

I am a little robotic in my routine, I sit and tap away in front of a screen til my butt is sore and my neck feels like it belongs to a telephone pole. I think about things like schedules, meetings, next steps, how about following up?

But even if I might be a little less silly now, I miss these grandiose oomphy and yes, i’ll admit, angsty posts. I’d rather have a sure splash of color than a forgotten patch of fade. I wonder how to be free despite structure, to challenge despite boundaries. How to dare and dream, how to fight monotony.

A little random tumblr post is probably far from a productive, thorough answer, but I feel rather victorious. Who knows when the next time nostalgic narcissistic me will read old posts and feel fired up again to write, however poorly.


Sep 24

keepsake

he said: 

I have been listening to this thing on christian history and it got to martin luther. Martin Luther struggled much of his life because he never thought he could repent enough or be good enough to secure his salvation for eternity. He came across Romans 1:17 where it speaks of the righteousness of God being found in the Gospel. and he thought he could find his answer to being set free from the weight of earning salvation by finding a formula in the gospel writings. But then he read it differently and saw that the righteousness spoken of is not a righteousness required of you, but a righteousness given to you by God through Christ. and it freed him from the weight of his insecurity.
 
 I’m not saying you are struggling with your salvation in this job search, but in one sense I felt like I could relate as I was listening to this story because I think I struggle to believe that Christ has finished the work that will ultimately give me my worth and deem me as lovable and as recognizable and as worthy to be called a human being. He really is the one who secures that for me. it is a free gift to me, an unable individual.
I hope that’s encouraging in some way; You are called to work in this world, but you are called out by God as a righteous and lovely and beautiful human and child of his. It’s a greater gift than any job we will strive to get

 

 Sent at 11:49 AM on Tuesday

Nov 27

my heart is getting bigger and fuller
not more generous
just learning how to move and respond to more
to you, you, you
to a hesitating hand, aching shoulder, a curving mouth
to hurt that i can’t fathom or empathize with
where i’m a stranger to
but i can try,
by beginning from the littles
that make up the large
and i can know that this expansion
is a way to know more of
Glory and of Grace
and most importantly,
of Love 


Oct 29

updfilm:

Did a litte video for Baxter of California’s barbershop Baxter Finley. Check it out!


Aug 8

Sometimes I forget how much I need to write. How much I need pen to free my thoughts, and how much I need paper to catch them like a net. I forget that writing is the beginnings of a timid breath that gets stronger as the sentences increase. Where need becomes a more desperate and sharp ache, and where hope becomes sweeter and crystallized. My voice becomes defined, because there are ears and eyes to hear and read. The words more thirsty and unlimited, like suddenly realizing you were fishing in a pond, when you meant to fish in the ocean.

I have a lot of fear about writing. Writing badly, writing selfishly, writing uselessly. But I’ve decided to write anyway, maybe even in a pen with bold ink, to begin to go over the fear until it vanishes under words and words and words. Words that start as mine, but end as His. A glory that is stronger than my feeble hand with its feeble grip, a glory that sears truth from pen into thoughts and hearts. I need to write, to map out the ways that this bright Glory has crossed and zigzagged and led me out of fear and into perfect love. I need to see that I’ve come, again and again, into love and love and more love. And I need to keep writing to see that I can even write myself a telescope, through which I see only more Glory and fearlessness.


Jul 24

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