.ode to sleep.

.i'll stay awake.
.cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight.


.i have so much to say.
.unexpected and beautiful wonderful things have happened.
so... here's the story.

my roommate and best friend katelynn was going to some concert last friday. the person she was going with had to bail so she asked me to come because she had already bought the tickets and she needed someone to drive theses two random girls and her to indy. so i said- of course. i knew how much this concert meant to her, and i knew she didn't want to go alone. so off we were. i spent 10 bucks to go sit in the amazing chill section with all of the 50 year old men. the first band was horrible. i laughed so hard that i had to move the back because i didn't want to be rude. then the second band was way better. as soon as the opening bands got done i went to go find katelynn and ended up being super close to the stage and next to her. then... they came on stage... INSANE. not an understatement. i had no clue what i was walking into but as soon as they came on stage- my night was made. it was incredible. i couldn't stop smiling.

.why am i not scared in the morning,
.i don't hear those voices callin.
.i must have kicked them out.
.i must have kicked them out.

i've never been to a concert where i had no clue what was going to happen next. ive never been to a concert where i didn't know any of the words and it didn't matter because i felt it in my gut. i've never been to a concert where i just looked over at my best friend and cried because of the perfection of the moment. i've never been NOT star struck or fan girly about musicians that i wholly approve of. i've never been the one to deny a hug ever. everything i'm saying is an UNDERSTATEMENT. there is no way that anyone can fully understand what took place- i don't know why i'm trying. i just guess i want to testify or something. haaa. but seriously. I WANT TO TESTIFY.

i swear i heard demons yelling
those crazy words they were spelling
they told me i was wrong.
they told me i was gone.

worship. it's just worship. and the crazy thing is that not all of us will get to experience that devine freaking moment that God set up specifically for me and who knows how many others. but there's something about writing it down. reminding myself it's real. it would still be real if i didn't tell you. but... i wanted to.

but ill tell them
why won't you let me go?
do i threaten all your plans?
i'm insignificant.
please tell them
you have no plans for me.

im in love with a God who is in love with His children so much that He created them so full of talent and passion and ambition that He uses them to spark the other ones. to set the others on fire.
this was one of those instances. and i couldnt be more thankful.

i will set my soul on fire.
what have i become?

.singing songs that nobody wrote.

.i don't know why i feed on emotion, the stomach inside my brain.

an experience of which i have nothing to compare it to.
these people. they feel.
they are real people.
just people.
they love.
they're fearful.
they're excited.
they're broken.
they're encouraging.
they're inspired.
they're brave.
they're goofy.
they're creative.
they're... blessed.

.i don't want to be heard. i want to be listened to.

i didn't want to be hugged.
i just wanted to express my amazement.
so easy to see my Love in that night.

.does it bother anyone else that someone else has your name.

i left that show.
speaking of our God.
staying up till 7 am speaking and thinking
deciphering.
my only keepsake- my burning calves the next day.
thankful for the pain that was a reminder of being alive.

.i scream.
.you scream.
.we all scream.
.cause we're all terrified.
.of whats around the corner.

alive.

.we stay in place cause we don't wanna lose our lives.

that's what that was.
alive.

.so lets think of something better.

if i could say nothing.
i could say i was alive.
they are alive.
we were all alive together.

.down in the forest we'll sing a chorus.
.one that everybody knows.

i went expecting nothing.
and was blown away.

.hands held higher- we'll be on fire.

my God orchestrated the most perfect
seemingly random night.
full of surprises He is.
glorious surprises.
that night can only be chalked up to Him.
and I'm so excited and thankful for what that will mean for me.
for what is to come from this.

.singing songs that nobody wrote.

im still deciphering.

.airport people, they come and go.

There are 4 children sitting behind me as we wait at out gate. All you can hear are giggles and joyful laughter. It's a far cry from the book section in the airport - everyone silently perusing the bindings and touching which ever cover strikes them. These laughing children and those deathly quiet adults seem to have something in common... they all want to be captivated by something, taken over by a laugh or an idea or a thought. They all want to be entertained. I don't remember ever being easily entertained but I do remember searching the bookshelves for anything to take me away. To take me somewhere, anywhere. To understand me or move me. I felt that as we all stood in front of these walls of books. Knowing that most of us aren't going to buy a super expensive book unless we need it to keep us sane on the long flights to and fro. I wanted to own every book i read the back of. top sellers and not top sellers. i wanted them all. i wanted the time to read them. i wanted the energy to read them. the excitement to live through them and tell people all about them. i feel like all of that makes sense. i don't remember being a little kid too often- but i imagine it's what i feel like when i'm surrounded by tons of unread books.

rain check.

I recently realized- like three seconds ago- that one thing that I love so much is when people do things that they are passionate about. I love hearing people who are passionate. I love seeing people do things that they are passionate about. it's beautiful to me. It feels like the way life should be. the way people were intended to be. in their "natural" state if things were the way they were supposed to be.

           


Tonight my roommate Kate held a candlelight prayer vigil for World Wide Diabetes Awareness Day which is today. I helped her set up candles because I knew it was important to her. She has type 1 Diabetes and is super involved in the Diabetes Community. She does a lot of stuff on AU's Campus. It's interesting to see someone so passionate about something that I don't understand well at all. Tonight she prayed for a long time as we stood in the cold. She prayed for so many things and so many people. It was like a glimpse into her mind- what she deals with and thinks every night.

It blesses me to see people live out the passions that have been laid on their hearts.

.A Sudden Stirring.

I can’t think.
I can’t think or read or speak when I’m not outside.
So I’m in the cemetery.
Saw a casket. They’re bigger in real life than I would think.

God’s been changing my heart. Working on it. Stirring it.
And not allowing me to ignore it.

What does He want? What does He need from me? Lately it’s been so many things on so many levels.

Freedom.
Death and decay.
Education.
Refuge.
Life.
Expectations.
Pride.

But first let us start with Aung San Suu Kyi.
My Mama is ill and weak and can’t get out of bed.
So I go read to her every week.
The book this 82 year old Jesus loving woman 

chose is “Freedom from Fear” by Aung San Suu Kyi.
If this name is unfamiliar to you- please familiarize yourself.
She is important, a human rights activist, 

and an ambassador for democracy, unity, and peace.
I got the opportunity to go see Aung San Suu Kyi speak in Fort Wayne during her U.S. tour after being finally released from house arrest.

I was in a coliseum filled with mostly Burmese refugees or immigrants and I was so blessed and so thankful to be able to have the chance to listen to her perspectives, see her personality, and learn from her. She spoke in Burmese and greeted her fellow Burmese people. There were Buddhist Monks and Muslims and even classrooms full of kids. It was freaking awesome. I got to share the whole experience with my best friend Taylor and we sat in awe as we watched all the different people clap and laugh and cheer.

 I will never forget that day. I will never forget that she spoke about the importance of education for all of the refugees. That the United States best gift was education and we should take advantage of that if we are going to further ourselves. She talked about how Burma is like no other country. How she hopes one day everyone can come back if they’d like. How the most important characteristic a leader should possess is honesty. How they have not yet reached democracy but this is the first step. A person asked how Americans could help and she answered by telling people about the situation in Burma and by being aware. She is in the same realm as Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King Jr., and Gandhi and it was easy to see that when she spoke so eloquently and passionately. Someone else asked her how she fell into politics- and she stated that she wasn’t forced into politics- she chose into it because she felt like it was the right thing to do and she still thinks it is.

Sometimes I stand in utter confusion of how people are the way they are.
Of how God made them.
If it was all Him, or their circumstances, or their personality, or what.
How do they have so much resolve?
How are they 100% committed?
How did they pick just one thing?

I don’t want to lead a small life.
I don’t want to be some great figure head or Abraham Lincoln or anyone else for that matter.
I want to be me but I don’t know what that’s like.
I admire these people who fought and persevered only because they believed in justice and did what they thought was right.

Do I have that resolve?
Do I believe enough in something to go balls to the wall?
Can I immerse myself in the fight for justice and truth?

I have no freaking idea.

The crazy thing is that there are tons of tiny MLKs running on this earth standing up for what they believe in and we have no clue about it. Little baby Pauls spreading the gospel as far as their pocket change will get them. There are people affecting the lives of others around them like little Mother Ts. They get no credit and no memorial but they do it anyway.

I think that’s the kind of person I want to be.
The faceless small doer in a sea of other faceless small doers.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the most selfish and prideful part of me  yearns for recognition.
And I want that part of me to die so that God can be recognized inside of me.
Can all of these blessings and talents He’s given me point people to Him instead of me?
Please.
Even as I say that I feel weak.
I want the pat on the back. I want to feel good and beautiful and loved and cared about. I want people to tell me how caring and loving I am. But no- I don’t need it. I know all of that already.
My God has made me beautiful and loves me. I love and care because of Him only.
I want to glorify and honor Him by doing the things I love and loving the people He does.
I don’t want to get caught up in my own pride. So now I pray that He will humble me.
Let me know that I am worthy but keep me aware that God is the greatest.

It isn’t a small life just because it won’t be remembered.
And I want to live life for God and not for approval.

This started out as a blog post about what God has been stirring up in me.
Little did I know that this was the answer.
Honestly I had no clue.

I was going to talk about how recently He’s shown me how blessed I am to have the opportunity to have an education and how I should fight for that. That I should also fight for my brothers and sisters who want that opportunity and should be given that right. I was also going to talk about how I recently feel like I want to teach English to refugees. I want to help Refugees assimilate in any way that I can and I know how freaking terrifying and lonely it can be to live in a place where you don’t speak the language. I want to love them in this way. So I’ve been looking into TESOL courses and also The Exodus Refugee thing in Indy is a non-profit that I’m looking into.

So here I am.
Confused at how I ended up talking about how prideful I am and how much I want to only care about what God thinks of me.

But I’m glad I did because it’s true.
And that’s that, I suppose.

.sounds like hallelujah.

I was just browsing through some of Lautrec's works- because I miss art and art history and then i decided to look up his biogrophy- because artists tend to have some of the most interesting life stories and it turns out he was friends with Van Gogh- oh my soul. I didn't expect to find such a delightful fact- but I guess I've forgotten that starving artists or artists in general gravitate towards each other, especially in the 1880s in France where the Bohemian lifestyle flourished. Van Gogh holds a special piece of my heart due to his story and similar struggles but his pieces never hit me between the eyes- Lautrec's subject matter is much more fascinating to me- he painted prostitutes at a time when he was swimming in a sea full of artists who painted landscapes. And his story is another artist's life.

My mom just called and we had a 20 minute conversation about Lautrec and art and how your short comings can really be a path to your strengths- in the sense of Lautrec and most artists and their battles. This whole thing was so unexpected and welcomed.

i wouldn't say I'm close to either one of my parents.
but I would say that the most moving conversations (there have been 3) that I've had with my mother in all of my 21 years -have been focused on art.
creating something seems so natural.
so vital to life.
i don't know if that was instilled in me by my parents
or by my Heavenly Father.
but either way- it's nice to find one piece of common ground to stand on with her.
to stand on this piece with her and look up at our God.
to connect - even if just for a few moments - in sitting back and appreciating diversity and allowing ourselves to remain in wonder
of something rare and full of life for as long as it lasts.
it feels so good to hear her speak
about something she has obviously been in love with forever.
to hear her words bend and shape
into sentences holding information as if it were fresh water-
i long to see and hear my mother like that every day.
it feels like for the first time- she's teaching me something.

when she speaks like this i imagine that this is the real person
this is the woman, my mother, that i would've met
if I time traveled back to her college days.
i imagine this is the girl I would've become friends with.
this is the Anna I would've sat next to in Drawing 101 - and fallen in love with her loudness and long blond hair and short skirts and bright blue eyes
made to look for the beauty in almost everything.
this is the girl so passionate and unsure and alive- before the rest of her life happened.
my mother has been all over world- with out me of course.
and do you know what she does in each city?
she goes to art museums. And she always sends me a post card.
i haven't realized it ever- until this exact moment...
but this is how my God loves me-
He gives me a Mother who loves me and she loves me by loving art.

and sends me a postcard.

and I couldn't ask for more right now, I couldn't ask for more.

.i've been sleepin in my bed.

found a song today.
this beautiful song.
that speaks of security and belonging.
and everything i long for.

i found myself today.
i watched one of the little boys i babysit, Josiah...
i watched him as he gave his Mom a hug and a few kisses
before she left.
then when he heard her leaving he ran to her
and did it again.
he wanted to give her more hugs and sticky kisses.
when i looked at him i saw myself.
everything about it.
it was insane.
it's me in every relationship.
it's the strangest thing.
when i tucked him in at night- i tucked myself in.
the tangible emotion in the air.
i'm a four year old who just wants to hug and kiss her mom forever.
i'm a kid who asks for you to lay next to him till you fall asleep.

where do i belong?
i can't be a four year old in a twenty-one year old body.
i can't keep wishing i could hug you and kiss you forever.
i can't keep wishing you'd lay down with me.

i really have been trying to do it right.
it's been lonely.
i do sleep alone in my bed.
that's one thing that's true.
it hurts.
no mom or dad to tell me how great i'm doing.
putting off the thoughts that i have to think
in the silent moments right before i fall asleep.
i hate nothing more.
i haven't allowed myself to enjoy the sweetness of life lately.
i really really want to.

.life lessons by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.

Above all, trust in the slow work of God
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end withour delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.

blerf. blerf. blerf.

this is that.

the anticipating of the unknown.

except not the exciting kind.

this is the type of which Vanstone and Chardin speak.

the uneasy impatience.

it's not a very becoming color on me.

unsettled and uncomfortable with this inbetween.

i want to scratch my earth skin off.

i want to run away from myself.

and everything else.

the law of progress
that it is made by passing through
some states of instability —
and that it may take a very long time.

this couldn't be more funny.
i feel like people have been telling me that a lot lately.
i guess it just- rings true.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually — let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.


i've been known to take the seemingly easy way out.
to jump to conclusions
and make wild assumptions.
to dive headfirst into assholery.
and to feel first. think later.
what would happen if i just let everything simmer.
experienced things as they happened?
found some comfort in the ease and slowness of this process of maturity?
is that even possible?
i want to believe it is.

Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.


 that sentence is life giving.
life filling.
life multiplying.
i dont know how many more ways i could say that that sentence is packed full of life.
it;s like the writer spoke a tree into existance when he wrote that.
i could only hope that tree would come forth in me.
but i don't feel it.
maybe it isn't the right day.
or maybe im not trying hard enough, i'm not trying at all.
but if i was open to it... that sentence would wake my being.

Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,


I forget.
I don't.
And I really really should.
I really need to.
Do I want to?

and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.


i wish i could express how that makes my stomache feel...
it's like leaning over a cliff in one of your dreams.
or the feeling you get in the moments before you reach the peak of a roller coaster.
 when you know you aren't going to like what you see in a second.


it's as if this writer knew me.
had studied me my entire life.
and decided to give me an honest life lesson.
he's cracking eggs of knowledge and i think i'm going to be sick.
i don't know what to do with this information.
how to process these words.
i don't even know if i'm capable at this juncture.
but i want to be- i really want to be.
that's just going to take a lot of courage.
and we all know i'm a tad short on that.

.intermediate stages.

"Above all, trust in the slow work of God

We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end withour delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of progress
that it is made by passing through
some states of instability —
and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually — let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.

Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and cirsumstances
acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete."

-Chardin from The Shiny Headed Prophet's Blog.

poison oak

loneliness seeps into my veins. pumping through my bloodstream. taking over every ounce of my body. i find it doesn't matter what time of day, it occurs when it sees fit. when i lose track. or when i'm on track. when i'm with people. or without. when i have words. and when i have none. the loneliness gradually has possessed as much of me as i will allow.

i want a new life. a new life where i don't prostitute myself- aching for love. the world knows who i am. i have no secrets of my own. if you put all the people together in my life at my memorial- they could tell you everything i've ever thought or done. every shameful action, every beautiful moment, every wound, every blessing. They could piece together my face with my own words- and by the end of the hour every person have me figured out. I have kept nothing for myself. I have nothing of my own. i have given away every piece of me. And i have nothing to show for it. every part of my heart i have eagerly forfeited. everything i have been given- i have given away.

who has kept it kindly?

who has protected it?

who has guarded it?

i haven't. 

i want them back. i want them all back now.

i wanted you to love me. 

all of you. 

i wanted you to know me.

i wanted you to know me and love me.

i wanted to be known fully. but you can't. you can never know me fully.

i'll always feel alone.

a friend once told me...

"it's lonely to be brilliant"

and i always have been

and i always will be

lonely.

but it won't burry me.

i have yet to appreciate the mystery of this life. 

i have yet to bask in the warmth of it.

but one day i will.

and you will have no clue about it.

until much much later.

.i've never known.

I have a family now.

Kylee would brush my hair. 

She'd check me for lice.

Marcia would be grossed out 

but she'd wash my hair.

Jen would rub my back.

Kelsey would drive across the country

to do my laundry.

Emily would give me permission

to stay home.

Hannah would commiserate.

Jessica would let me cry and cry.

Lauren would talk and talk.

Katie would try to make me smile.

They would all try.

I've never been so safe.

I've never been so safe.

I've never known such a family.

Such parents.

Helping me parent myself.

.deliver us from these prisons.

TODAY I AM SO ANGRY.
SO HURT.
SO SAD.
SO PISSED.

every expletive.
that's what i would use.
but instead i don't say anything.

i feel so alone.
i know i'm not.
but i hate this.
so today i made art.
i used every perscription bottle label that i could find.
angry art that speaks of pain and exhaustion.

my roomate is the best roomate.
and im so hateful twards him today.
im so sinful.

and i hate that i hate him.
but i just want to scream at him.
this isn't fair.
i want to smack him and yell at him.
i want someone to hold me.
someone to understand.
but instead
there's nothing.
i just recoil from his every word and touch.

it's beautiful out today.
i talked to the mailwoman.
she and i decided we would have good days.
i pray that God makes that true.

im just praying that this goes.
i'm praying.
God knows what I need.

one of my friends texted me this morning and said

"I would hug you every morning if I could"

i miss her.
i miss that kind of love.
the kind that feels your pain with you.
that holds me.


i'm mean today.
i'm so mean.
i hate this.
fuck.

i've been trying to do better.
i really have.

.oy vay.

I’m not a good arguer.
And sometimes when things mean a lot to me I can’t adequately express myself when speaking about what I accept as true. So I thought I’d write it down. After all I fancy myself secretly as a bit of a writer. And thusly it begins-why I believe what I believe about this subject.

My whole life I’ve grown up with people telling me what to think. To a certain extent I assume we all do. Information from my environment going in and out. Pieces of things I’ve heard. Lessons people have “taught” me. And then at some point in my adolescence I came to this fork in the road. Experiences begin to shape my viewpoint instead of hear say. Questioning things instead of accepting information at point blank. A curiosity and sense of responsibility began to build. A responsibility to search for truth. And to speak it. It has materialized in different forms at different times (rebellion, anti-establishment tendencies, non-traditional inclinations, etc.) but I believe that once I work through that it always comes back down to the search for truth. In every way this is about truth.

I’m a very emotional human being.
Everyone who knows me can attest.

But I am more than that.
I want God’s truth.

But I also love the mystery.

A strange combination indeed.

It’s hard for me to believe that there may be no right or wrong answer even when I know that sometimes (and more often than I’d like) that is the answer.

What I’m questioning today is what I think of the Bible.

What do I truly believe about it?

Today I thought about it long and hard. And came up with this…

In a sentence- I believe that the Bible is God’s love story of and for us, his children.

I was listening to a sermon this morning about how the words “infallible” have only recently in the last century been used to describe the Bible.  And how men have arrogantly and pridefully used the Bible to endorse slavery, to negate women’s rights, and to speak against the civil rights movement (that’s only what we’ve done in the last two-hundred years in America). The preacher this morning was a Southern Baptist, which because I’m a jerk took my by surprise, and his message spoke of how men contort and translate and interpret(on purpose or accidentally)the Bible in so many ways without taking into account the historical context or trying to educate themselves and attempt to dive deeper into the heart of God. That men think that they know the mind of God and use it as a weapon to harm people. His main point was that we are now doing the same thing to homosexuals. This is a hot button issue for me. And I don’t want to talk about it. But I really really do want to write about it.

• ·      My grandfather was bi-sexual and died of HIV related complications, I never met him.
• ·      My friend in third grade told me she was bi-sexual and I was really confused as to how she even knew that about herself.
• ·      In high school two of my best friends came out to me.was in theater and all of my guy friends were wonderfully flamboyant.
• ·      After high school I made two knew best friends who loved Jesus and later ended up falling in love with each other.
• ·      And I met my current best friend a year ago- and he told me of his struggles with homosexuality.
•       After meeting him I went on a walk with a friend and really started to think about the amount of close friends that I have had in my life who have been homosexuals, it seems like I attract a lot of wonderful people, a lot of whom seem to have same sex attractions.

In high school I wrestled with the idea of what God thought of it. My heart was broken for my beautiful friends who were terrified of what their parents would say and how they would be treated by their friends not to mention strangers. I was confused as how to treat them and how to love them in the best way I could even though they were sinning., because that’s what I had been unspokenly taught. I came to a new conclusion one day while reading my Bible. I distinctly remember getting into the car with my father one brave afternoon and saying “what do you think about gay people?” He told me of course that it was unnatural and an abomination (people love that word) and I retorted with my conclusion – “Dad, if all sins are equal then what’s the difference? We sin all the time.” And I remember coming to a standstill and thankfully we had arrived at our destination and didn’t have to talk about it any further. In the same time period I asked my mother what she would do if I was a lesbian. And she responded beautifully “I would pray for you and I would love you.” And that is something that I love about my mom.

After high school- when my two friends fell in love with each other I had to re-evaluate my stance on this subject yet again. When they told all of their Christian friends that they were in love- almost every single one of them exiled them. None of their secular friends gave a rat’s ass because to them they were the same and all of these people who believed in Jesus abandoned them. One of the girl’s parents kicked her out of the house and took her off of the cell phone plan then stopped talking to her indefinitely. At the time- I was surprised that they had fallen in love but came to the realization that I didn’t care. I just liked them so I kept hanging out with them. On nights when we would be driving together they would ask me questions such as “What do you think Justine” and I would have to respond with “I don’t know. But I know you love Jesus and I’m not worried about you- God loves you and everything else is just semantics.” I tried to stay away from researching it. They were so patient with me. They bought me books. And one time forced me to watch a documentary. And invited me to any and all things LGBT and The Pride Parade even though I would never attend. They shared their lives with me. And all I asked was not to watch them kiss- I hate any form of PDA. Looking back on it now I wasn’t a very good friend to them in that respect. I loved them very much and I hated what everyone was doing to them. But I didn’t fight for them. I cried for them and with them. But I didn’t feel their pain as it was my own. I think I was afraid to believe in something so completely different than what most of my brothers and sisters in Christ believe. I wasn’t up for opposing the “Church” at this point in my life. I was afraid to actually try and find the truth. I wanted not to know. But this in itself is a form of emotional abandonment- to not be willing to make that journey fully with them, to choose to be ignorant. I’m still friends with both of them but the wrecklessness of "Christians" is still an issue.

And then I met him. One fateful Sunday I was feeling particularly weird at Church so I sat down next to a cute kid with a sweet beanie on and asked him what his name was. Strangely it was the masculine version of my own. And so it began. As soon as he spoke I knew he was gay and I knew that I loved him. We sat for a second and I stared at the stupid screen and told him how much I didn’t want to be there and asked if he wanted to get out of there and talk. So we did. He told me about how fiery he was for missions and how excited he was for life. How his old church was old and he needed something new. He told me about all of the music he loved and I hated it all immediately. He told me everything with such passion. I was immediately in love with this kid.  

We didn’t get to hang out much until months later when I came back from the Ukraine but I don’t even remember how that happened- we moved in together as room mates. And then we became better friends. And then we became best friends. I just know that I had never met anyone like him. I had never met a young man with such a pure heart. Such a kind and compassionate man who loved God. I’ve never met a man who was never intentionally trying to hurt me. I’ve never met someone who was so oblivious. I’ve never met someone who was so patient. A young man with a heart after God’s heart. I don’t know how it was different this time but it was.

 I was ready to really delve into things this time with God. To fight for the truth. I knew that there was no possibility that God had made my friend like this for him to feel like He was condemned. This time somehow it clicked. I know God. He’s not like that. I know my God. He isn’t cruel. Right? He is good. Correct? He is loving. Really? He is compassionate. Is He? And my God would never want his children to feel ostracized and isolated. Am I right? He would never give His bride permission to cast out the wounded other people. True? So I started looking into the Bible. There are six verses in the entire Bible that speak about homosexuality. So I watched more documentaries. So I listened to people talk. So I read blogs. So I read books.

So I prayed.  And then prayed. And kept praying. And what did I come up with?

I know my God.
I feel it.
I believe it.

I researched it.
(Most importantly I feel it.)

And I know that His love for his children surpasses anything that we can even fathom.
Do you believe that?

And I know that same sex attraction is not a sin.

I know that no one chooses it.

I am not gay.

I’ve been reminded.

But I ache in pain for my brothers and sisters who are and who believe that they are fundamentally unnatural.
My heart is broken for God’s children who are told that they are made wrong.

Shame is not of God.

Do you agree?

I will no longer be afraid to say that I disagree with what people interpret the Bible to say about homosexuality.

I also disagree with slavery, injustice twards women, stoning people, and keeping ethnic groups segregated. You can’t accurately interpret the Bible exactly.

It is living and it is mysterious.
I think we like to put God in a box.

But I’d like to say that God is bigger than the Bible.

I believe that my God is beautiful.

Jesus would be with and for the homosexuals today.
The strange thing is that I have no doubt.

My friend asked me… what if you’re wrong? If being gay is a sin?

Nothing changes. God is good! Those who love him are saved. He will always answer those who call on him. Always. Is this not true?

And I’m not wrong.

Let me say it one more time.

I’m not wrong.

Everyone has to figure things out on their own. Everyone has to come to their own conclusion. The mystery is that there could be more than one right answer.

This is mine.

I believe in the Bible.
I believe that as I grow to know Jesus more and see His face more and more that He is so loving and patient and merciful and graceful and compassionate and joyful.

Jesus is where it’s at.

I believe that the Bible speaks to that.

I don’t think He would tell anyone that they were excluded.

I would never hear Him say that someone wasn’t worthy of loving and being loved by another human being. I would never hear Him say to those who love Him that they are going to hell.

Not my Jesus.

I believe enough in the Bible to say that

It is God’s job to judge.
The Holy Spirit’s job to convict.
And my job to love, no matter how horrible I may be at it.

Amen and out.

you could have your pick of pretty things

"this one's bout a dream i had last night"

listening to switchfoot's faust, midas, and myself.
i find myself coming back to this song time and time again in my life.
i think it's when i come to places of mystery and confusion.
here i am.

"you've one life. you've one life. you've one life left to lead"

sometimes, often i get so hung up on small things.
on things that are noteworthy but not the point.
i feel like I care more about the details than the actual point.
screw the details.

"you've one life. you've one life. you've one life left to lead"

i wish my friends could know my heart.
i wish i could give them adequate words that display my affection and deep pain for them.
i wish i could hold Jesus' hand today.
i'm not afraid.
i'm afraid.
i'm so sad.
im so thankful.

"a heart of gold can't really beat at all"

i don't understand why everything has to be so complicated.
i don't understand why sometimes love just isn't enough.
i don't understand why isolation comes so easily
and sharing is the hardest thing to do lately.
i don't understand why people can't see.
i don't understand why i am so mean.

i look forward to the days when i'm free from this world and this body.
until then i will promise to try to try.

i look forward to the days of summer.
the days of my youth.
this is my youth?
there's so much pain.
i've heard promise of joy.
i wait with baited breath holding onto that hope as loosely or tightly as the moment calls for.

"WHAT DIRECTION?
WHAT DIRECTION?
WHAT DIRECTION?
life begins at the intersection."

.need.

When does this get easier?
When does this burning pit in my stomache fade?
And when does the loudness of my soul's stirring stop
Making me rage against the voices of loud men.
Of men just trying. Just trying to speak life.
I don't want to hear them.
I don't want to be anywhere that resembles this place of wrong-doing.

Every building I step into is some form of that vulgar disappointment.
Some reminder of the lack. of the fall. of the betrayal.

What am I looking for?
Something different.
I don't know.
Not someone to speak at me.
Not a building with screens of words.
Not contemporary.
Not a production.
Not a stage.
Not a trendy meeting.
Not a thing of men.
But a place of God.
A place where we come to commune with Him.
I guess all of them are.
But I want more. I want different.
I can no longer bare this.
So close?

I need.

To learn and speak and read together.
A place where it doesn't fit into this world.
A place that earnestly tries to be basic.

Other people can want other things.

I yearn for the bare nakedness.
The intimacy.
I have ached.
And will always ache for.
The truth.
Literary. Unspoken. Realized. Heavenly. Good. Whispered. Here.

Give me something that feeds my soul.
Give me the bread of life.
I'm looking for something to stick to my bones.

.trying something new.

I can not fully comprehend what is going on in my life currently.
Somehow the certain sense of chaos that has been my lifeblood up until this point
has been removed and strange level of safety has replaced it.
An unforeseen literary twist in the story of my life.
My narrative of adventure, travel, and extremes turning into
A tale about a girl coming of age.
Surprisingly never boring. Never dull.
But less alone.
More bold.
More confident.
Assured that this matters.

Stepping into the shoes she has been too afraid to soil.

Growing into the name she has heard whisper of.

Moments and glimpses of the voice she has been given.
Of the brilliance she fears may be inside of me.

Be brave, she tells herself.
Be brave.

Emboldened now.

Always being hit by the next wave of life-
Beginning to realize that that will never change.
But starting to swim instead of just trying to keep her head above water.

She wants more than just to survive.
She wants to be alert in the reality of her Maker.

"What are we doing?" she asks.
Trying something new.