She became their cautionary tale. She was the deceived elect. Mothers pulled their children aside to tell them not to be like her, to stay far away from her.
So-called friends and blatant foes turned their back on her. Strangers looked down on the girl they barely knew. She lost dear friends who once treasured her companionship. They were afraid to be seen with her.
What a shameful mess! they thought. Stay away from her.
When news of her death spread across the village, they sighed with relief.
They gathered together to spew out their final remarks and indignant comments over her untimely demise. Read the rest of this entry
Is there anyone who fails? Is there anyone who falls?
Am I the only one in church today feeling so small?
- “Stained Glass Masquerade”, Casting Crowns
My best friend, Natalie*, and Harvey*, the guy she’s in a courtship with, are always a lovely couple to be with. They’re the kind of couple who can make you gush over just the way they interact with each other. I’ve spent a lot of time being their third wheel and it’s a blast hanging out with this two crazy, fun people.
Mind you – these two – apart from a friendly poke or a playful shove, they barely touch. I’ve never even seen them hold hands. They’re not really big fans of public displays of affection. They just have this lovely rapport between them and knowing that they are prayerful about their relationship gives me a lot of peace.
Now, what’s the point here?
They only act that way when they’re outside our church. Read the rest of this entry
I cannot disillusion Someone Who never had illusions about me in the first place.
A friend once told me that I feel too deeply. She could try her best to immerse herself in emotion and never really get to the depth of emotion that I go to. I smile even as I write this, because I’m thinking, “Perhaps it has something to do with our height difference. I’m at least 7 inches taller than her.” But I digress. I’m not trying to say the taller you are, the more deeply you feel. *facepalm* Oi.
If there’s one major struggle I’ve had in my spiritual walk – it’s soulishness. My emotions have a way of getting the better of me. A spiritual high can turn to a soulish low the moment my emotions get under attack.
My initial reaction? I withdraw. I inch away. I put myself in a self-induced bubble, shying away from the crowds and retreating to a place where I can ignore, but never quite soothe, the way I feel. (This place often involves TV show/movie marathons and a general disregard of the world around me.) It’s strange that I do this, because after a day or two, I find that I’ve only fed my emotions instead of deal with it head-on. I only address the symptoms.
It’s strange that I don’t always immediately run to the Solution, when I know exactly what it is – or rather, Who it is. I know that there’s only One Solution to my dilemma – the Lover of my soul (no matter how emotional it is). He is my Audience of One and it is His opinion alone that matters. And all I really have to do is run to Him, because oftentimes, He sees me way better than I would dare expect.
I was made the way I am and He must’ve had a good reason for doing so. Fearfully and wonderfully made. With that, I know what not to feel as I draw near to Him – shame, condemnation, accusation – mistaking these ugly emotions as repentance.
I have to remind myself that I cannot disillusion Someone Who never had illusions about me in the first place. In that place – that crux – there is pain that comes out of sacrifice, sacrifice that comes out of passion, passion that comes out of unfathomable love. In that place, I can feel many, many things, but one thing is for certain: When around Him, I desire to always feel His Love.
Here I am. At Your feet. In my brokenness, complete. - Unashamed, Starfield
The star hangs in the sky.
Beautiful. Unreachable. On fire.
Vibrant in her fiery glow.
Proud. Arrogant. Utterly alone.
The star hangs in the sky.
Shining. Unique. One among millions.
Just like all the other stars.
Watching. Waiting. Hoping.
The star falls from the sky.
Ablaze. Broken. Vulnerable.
Countless wishes come true.
At the price of her death.
The fallen star stares up at the sky.
Dreaming. Longing. Stricken with wonder.
She is a paradox.
Dead, but never more alive.
“In the darkest of nights,
Your Light will shine.”
The starstruck ground trembles.
The star’s light dims.
Basking in surrender.
Beautiful. Unique. Radiant.
Greater light shining from within.
They’re waiting… anticipating…
They’re tired of seeing you rise.
They want to see you fall.
They’re eager to find a crack.
A flaw. A weakness.
A reason to tear you down
To rip you apart
Until there’s nothing left of you
You asked Me to kill you. I will.
But only because
You’ve waved the white flag at Me.
You’ve given Me your surrender.
It won’t be easy.
They will enjoy the show.
They will kick you when you’re down.
They won’t care.
You will want to defend yourself.
Your defense is their ammunition
So learn the violence of silence.
Take every blow.
Endure every insult.
Let them curse you.
Let them do their worst.
Turn the other cheek.
Again and again and again.
Let them enjoy watching you die.
Never really knowing you.
And at that moment…
When you finally find yourself
Crucified & publicly shamed,
There’s one thing You will never have to endure
Like I did.
Unlike Me, you’ll never be alone.
The Father will never forsake you.
Neither will I.
Obsession… Devotion… Illusion…
Blown out of proportion.
Rejection… Sensation… Imagination…
Fighting back emotion.
Envy is not the shade of green
I thought I’d have.
You’re one shade of green.
A leaf dangled by the wind before my very eyes.
I will not chase you.
I will simply watch you dance with the wind.
Maybe one day you’ll be mine.
Or perhaps you’ll remain as one shade of green.
Never mine. Never was. Never will be.
Just one hue in a spectrum of color,
Blown away by the wind.
Up in the sky
As you pass me by
Trying not to cry
That hope’s not a lie
I heave and I sigh
For moments gone by
Did you finally decide?
You hung me out to dry
Note: Old poem created after experiencing a “He’s Just Not That Into You” scenario. *big toothy smile* Dratted hypothalamus. Pfft.
I’m but a breath.
Here today, gone tomorrow.
I’m a voice waiting to be heard.
I’m a song waiting to be sung.
I’m a word waiting to be spoken.
I’m one voice.
I’m one song.
I’m one life.
Will you listen?
I’m a lover of words.
I’m a writer.
I’m in love with the Lover of souls.
I’m a worshiper.
I long to be more like Love, yearn to be the personification of it.
I’m a woman allured… wooed… loved…
I am who I was made to be.
If not, I will be.
“Do you find me beautiful?”
I remember a friend asking a guy that question over chat. She was met with a snippy “girl, we play for the same team” or something like that, because unbeknownst to her, apparently, he was gay.
When she told me about that experience, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Why? Why do we women put ourselves in that position? Why do we make ourselves vulnerable in that way? Why is it so crucial for us to have an answer to the question of our beauty? And why do we go to broken men with this question?”
Why does it make us come alive when people – specifically men – assure us that they find us beautiful?
I ask my dad that question a lot, but whenever he says yes, I don’t believe him because he’s my dad. I figure that he’s supposed to say that. Thus, my usual reply to him would be, “Hmm… You’re just saying that because you’re my dad.” I think that frustrates him.
I’ve been thinking about this question lately and how much we, as women, seek an answer to it. I know of girls who are constantly told by men and women alike that they are beautiful. Some struggle with the wound of never having been told that they are beautiful. Some struggle with the agony of being told to their face that they are not beautiful – scarred deeply by tactless criticisms and cold insults.
As women, something deep inside us longs for an answer to that question: Am I beautiful? And it’s not even just about physical beauty. It’s about that inner beauty every woman longs to have – that beauty that radiates from within.
There’s something within us that needs to be assured that even when we grow old and we’re no longer in our prime, we would still be seen as beautiful.
I have this awesome, awesome friend who one day, out of nowhere, just gave me a numbered list of things I need to improve in order to make me less intimidating. He said, “Please know that who you are, what you know and how you act is intimidating. I’m sure even to the guys that you could possibly like. I wouldn’t be surprised if the girls get mad if they see their men even just talking to you.” He then expounded on why and gave me the list. He assured me that I was “beautiful and vibrant and smart and wonderful in every way,” but of all the assurances he gave me as a brother and as a really great friend, the only thing that hit me was that I was intimidating and that I needed to change.
Why is it so easy to believe the negative or the areas of improvement and yet it’s so hard to believe the positive? Maybe it’s true what they say… it takes at least ten compliments to erase one insult. Or maybe I’m just being really negative about myself.
My younger sister once tearfully told me that she has to accept that she’s not beautiful. If you know my sister personally, you’d know that that’s not normal. While I struggle with my own sense of beauty, she’s typically the one who goes, “I don’t care if nobody tells me I’m beautiful. I think I’m beautiful.” She wasn’t as confident that time.
I’m like, “What are you talking about? You are beautiful.” As she told me the reasons behind her confession, recounting the times when people have made her feel less than the beautiful person that she was, I realized that I myself wouldn’t have been assured by a nonchalant, “You’re beautiful. Believe it.”
I don’t know… I guess people were never meant to answer that question for us. I believe it helps when we are told that we are beautiful. Positive confession always does help, but that does not satisfy.
Maybe we need to first behold Beauty in order to become it. Maybe the Only One Who can really answer that question for us is He Who is Beautiful.
No conclusion here really… Just random thoughts… I’ll end with this quote told by Rumplestilskin to Belle in the show Once Upon a Time: “You try to find beauty in everyone, and when you don’t find it, you create it.”