'and i had this epiphany in the shower the other day - that love is not just a feeling, it's a choice!'
and she said it, my housemate, with such a sense of satisfaction it made me glad to know that she had that feeling of pieces falling into place. there is nothing like clarity achieved in the bathroom to help you settle into being a profound philosopher.
i forget that we all realise different things at different points in time.
two years ago, when lots of my friends started to get married, i freaked out because i felt young and was young (and still am young) and marriage is kind of scary and it's hard to know how to be a good support to someone when you are afraid for them.
and i wrote things to help. and i read things that helped.
and donald miller made sense of the incongruity of falling in love.
'I will give you this, my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He has loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery, save God’s own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep 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 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 its 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.'
(i am even impatient for sanctification)
the other day i told two people that i am a wretch, really.
it's hard to admit that you are horrible to someone.
their reactions were very different, but both helpful.
and i said i've been praying a lot, saying sorry for not thinking kind thoughts or feeling noble feelings or saying good words and that i don't want a heart that gets all caught up and bitter especially knowing that that's not at all what other people need if i'm going to be able to be of any help to them and love them properly but that that's what i've got. and it's that that makes me cry. i've got a rotten heart and i'm just not a very good person and holiness and godliness are so hard to fight for in myself all the time that it feels like losing out and giving up so much of the time and that some days i just want to give up because it's tiring to be so aware of your own sinfulness.
but i do hold to be true the fact that i have better and lasting possessions than people and places because of jesus.
praise Him.
it's hard to admit that you are horrible to someone.
their reactions were very different, but both helpful.
and i said i've been praying a lot, saying sorry for not thinking kind thoughts or feeling noble feelings or saying good words and that i don't want a heart that gets all caught up and bitter especially knowing that that's not at all what other people need if i'm going to be able to be of any help to them and love them properly but that that's what i've got. and it's that that makes me cry. i've got a rotten heart and i'm just not a very good person and holiness and godliness are so hard to fight for in myself all the time that it feels like losing out and giving up so much of the time and that some days i just want to give up because it's tiring to be so aware of your own sinfulness.
but i do hold to be true the fact that i have better and lasting possessions than people and places because of jesus.
praise Him.
like crazy
i am in san francisco, on the other side of the world from home.
but on the same side as my sister.
the time difference is nineteen hours and i am a wee bit jet lagged, but not overly.
it was bizarre to sit on the plane for the thirteen hours and to be doing things in close proximity to strangers that i'd usually only do around my family, my housemates or my good friends. things like brushing my teeth, sleeping deeply with my mouth gaping open and eating breakfast.
i'd never thought of aeroplanes in that way before.
it was so nice to meet my sister at the arrivals gate.
she had bought me a cinnamon scroll and bad californian coffee but i drank it anyway.
and today we saw seals and walked hills and ate an animal style burger and fries and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with peanut butter sauce and hot chocolate fudge and sushi and udon and tempura ice cream and i met all her friends here and they are all very fun and very young at heart.
we all watched a movie that i've been waiting to see for months.
it had a dissatisfying ending and i'm not sure if i found it dissatisfying because it ended like the truth or it ended like a lie.
whichever it was, it reminded me of these words from a song by yves klein blue that i find dissatisfying for one of the same reasons.
so, please don't let me go without you.
my heart never shows without you.
lately, things have been so distant,
and i don't know what i can do to fix it.
why don't you love me like you used to?
why do i worry about the future?
is it, just, that how we manage is not by love but by force of habit?
and if only i could be a man who rips down all your dreams and plans.
and smashes all of your pretty things so the only thing you could see was me.
for what we've done should be a crime.
we should be locked up so we never see the light.
for in the darkness, we could see how worthless all our lives must be.
if our love is like us, you drift apart;
must be something wrong with our hearts.
and be something wrong with all of us
to never care until things are lost.
why don't you love me like you used to?
why do i worry about the future?
i like that i feel things.
i don't like dissatisfaction but i like that i feel it sometimes to know that i never have to be dissatisfied in jesus.
but on the same side as my sister.
the time difference is nineteen hours and i am a wee bit jet lagged, but not overly.
it was bizarre to sit on the plane for the thirteen hours and to be doing things in close proximity to strangers that i'd usually only do around my family, my housemates or my good friends. things like brushing my teeth, sleeping deeply with my mouth gaping open and eating breakfast.
i'd never thought of aeroplanes in that way before.
it was so nice to meet my sister at the arrivals gate.
she had bought me a cinnamon scroll and bad californian coffee but i drank it anyway.
and today we saw seals and walked hills and ate an animal style burger and fries and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with peanut butter sauce and hot chocolate fudge and sushi and udon and tempura ice cream and i met all her friends here and they are all very fun and very young at heart.
we all watched a movie that i've been waiting to see for months.
it had a dissatisfying ending and i'm not sure if i found it dissatisfying because it ended like the truth or it ended like a lie.
whichever it was, it reminded me of these words from a song by yves klein blue that i find dissatisfying for one of the same reasons.
so, please don't let me go without you.
my heart never shows without you.
lately, things have been so distant,
and i don't know what i can do to fix it.
why don't you love me like you used to?
why do i worry about the future?
is it, just, that how we manage is not by love but by force of habit?
and if only i could be a man who rips down all your dreams and plans.
and smashes all of your pretty things so the only thing you could see was me.
for what we've done should be a crime.
we should be locked up so we never see the light.
for in the darkness, we could see how worthless all our lives must be.
if our love is like us, you drift apart;
must be something wrong with our hearts.
and be something wrong with all of us
to never care until things are lost.
why don't you love me like you used to?
why do i worry about the future?
i like that i feel things.
i don't like dissatisfaction but i like that i feel it sometimes to know that i never have to be dissatisfied in jesus.
being the pack mule
my sister sent me a list today.
she's in san francisco, however many thousands of kilometres away that is.
and in seven days i get to be her very expensive courier, lugging items including her snowboard and ski jacket and snow boots and yves saint laurent parisien perfume, by special request, across the pacific ocean to her.
and i opened up her message expecting just the list, so that i can spend the next little while collecting all her items for her like a mario kart racer in a 50cc car vying for colourful balloons in wario's stadium.
but tagged on to the bottom of her list were a couple of lines about how much ghiradelli square is going to blow my mind and that she wants to cook me stir-fry for dinner and to meet all her housemates.
and they weren't very many words.
but they were enough to work up my tear ducts for a performance.
because even though four months hasn't seemed like a long time and i've moved out of home so everything's been different anyway and life's so busy that i haven't really had time to think about her being that far away,
i really miss her.
and i am so excited that i get to reply to her message and tell her that my flight touches down in the same city she is living in at 10:41am pacific standard time next monday.
she's in san francisco, however many thousands of kilometres away that is.
and in seven days i get to be her very expensive courier, lugging items including her snowboard and ski jacket and snow boots and yves saint laurent parisien perfume, by special request, across the pacific ocean to her.
and i opened up her message expecting just the list, so that i can spend the next little while collecting all her items for her like a mario kart racer in a 50cc car vying for colourful balloons in wario's stadium.
but tagged on to the bottom of her list were a couple of lines about how much ghiradelli square is going to blow my mind and that she wants to cook me stir-fry for dinner and to meet all her housemates.
and they weren't very many words.
but they were enough to work up my tear ducts for a performance.
because even though four months hasn't seemed like a long time and i've moved out of home so everything's been different anyway and life's so busy that i haven't really had time to think about her being that far away,
i really miss her.
and i am so excited that i get to reply to her message and tell her that my flight touches down in the same city she is living in at 10:41am pacific standard time next monday.
so, i will make every effort
there are days when i'm amazed that You would let any light shine into that dark and cavernous cavity in my chest.
(i'd really like that my heart not ache for all the things that it does but ought not.)
i don't know what i'd do without that always when i can approach Your throne of grace with confidence knowing that i will receive mercy and find grace to help me in my time of need.
(i'd really like that my heart not ache for all the things that it does but ought not.)
i don't know what i'd do without that always when i can approach Your throne of grace with confidence knowing that i will receive mercy and find grace to help me in my time of need.
a note to my mother: leaving a trust for the care of an animal
'the rule of duration requires that a trust for the care of the testator’s animal for the rest of its life with no life in being mentioned, will be invalid if the animal may live for more than twenty-one years and thus has produced a judicial decision that a cat cannot live for more than twenty-one years; indignant cat-lovers and biologists, who may adduce evidence to the contrary, must be patiently told that the subject of their observations is a juristic impossibility.'
my mother used to threaten my sister and i.
she'd say that if we weren't kind to her in every and any which way, that the sum of my parents' assets would get inherited by my dog. if there was any chance that our dog might have lived past twenty-one, she'd have fought against this, tooth and nail.
he died last year, and she was devastated.
the mention of him still gets her eyes leaking in all of half a second.
bless her.
- a law textbook on trusts
my mother used to threaten my sister and i.
she'd say that if we weren't kind to her in every and any which way, that the sum of my parents' assets would get inherited by my dog. if there was any chance that our dog might have lived past twenty-one, she'd have fought against this, tooth and nail.
he died last year, and she was devastated.
the mention of him still gets her eyes leaking in all of half a second.
bless her.
joyful
i have the most wonderful friends.
i am so lucky to have some of the best brothers and sisters.
i am not sure that all of them them realise how thankful i am that they exist.
i don't deserve them, like i don't deserve a lot of things.
but He is abounding in kindness.
i am so lucky to have some of the best brothers and sisters.
i am not sure that all of them them realise how thankful i am that they exist.
i don't deserve them, like i don't deserve a lot of things.
but He is abounding in kindness.
why, yes, sometimes i am psychotic
trying to explain depth of feeling to someone is one of the hardest things to do. trying to explain breadth of feeling to someone who doesn't understand depth of feeling is also really difficult. the two go hand-in-hand so comfortably.
it's hard to explain to someone who doesn't, at first mention, understand the discipline that it takes to not allow an internal emotion to manifest itself in an unreasonable or unnecessary physical action just because it feels like the right thing. it's harder to explain to someone that mostly though it requires no discipline at all, because if every feeling i experienced in a single day manifested itself with particular mannerisms or ways of being, i would literally be eighteen different people in twenty-four hours. that's approximately one personality every forty minutes. that just gets tiring. mostly people laugh when i tell them that, but it's true.
there is a natural dischord between my internal emotive mechanisms and the things i say and do, not because i'm pretending to be someone i'm not, but because i'm working really hard, and trusting very much that it's possible, to be someone better than i already am.
i went through a stage of really disliking that i could feel things, mostly because a lot of what i feel doesn't necessarily match up with reality. it would frustrate me that my emotions weren't responses to actual people, places or things. it seemed nonsensical that a lot of the time my mood was being held captive, by, well, nothing at all really. or a hormonal cycle. which is dumb. because maybe they're an explanation for volatility but they are hardly an excuse for being crazy and doing crazy and saying crazy things.
so, at the beginning of this year i made it my priority to start turning my emotions into prayers.
it sounds dumb. i'll take it on the chin if you're smirking.
but it seemed right to turn my frustrations into prayers.
and so far God has been nothing but patient and kind in teaching me things.
when i read proverbs 4:23, it makes complete sense to me now that we'd be told to 'above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.' more than anything, look after that thing that 'beats in your chest' and makes you feel things, because it matters, it affects your whole life.
i've had this verse of scripture quoted to me when maneuvering situations with something-but-nothing boys, almost as a warning to be distrusting, to keep to myself, to not let go of anything or give any of me away. with a focus on the guarding. and that never sat quite right with me because it seemed to miss the point of chapter four and seeking wisdom and looking to someone else for counsel, someone who knows better, rather than closing yourself up and in and trying to do all the protecting on your own. with a focus on what flows from that; everything.
it's counter intuitive to open yourself up to another's words in order to be guarded.
but that's life with yahweh for you.
(one day i'll start expecting counter intuitive things to be the case. i should be better at it by now. the gospel is so full of them, in a wonderful way.)
and i'd rather have my heart in his hands than anyone else's. and i'd rather be shaped by his words more than my own sentiments.
in understanding that notion of guarding-by-giving-away better i've realised how kind it is that God has given us things both external and internal that are out of our hands and out of our control and out of our foolish, proud, weak dominion. things both without and within that we have to ask him about, plead with him about, know that he is in control about. he doesn't just beset the land we live on with fires and floods but rains and fuels flames at the very core of who we are. whether we are set alight with anguish or drenched through with melancholy, our hearts are often fickle and fleeting in their affections and affectations at any level. we are forced to trust him with all that is intrinsic and seems most naturally to be manufactured on our own. we are forced to give him even our inmost parts and i'm so thankful. everyday he's helping me feel things that make sense in light of forever.
so, i try less to make myself feel less.
and i rejoice when i feel things that i know are righteous things to feel.
tonight i learnt a lot of things about artifical reproductive technologies that i didn't know before. especially about how many tiny, little six cell babies die all the time because people don't realise and i was glad that i was so sad about it that i almost cried in front of seventy strangers in a lecture theatre.
and, for the first time in a long while, i didn't mind that some of the the seventy strangers probably would have had no idea why i felt like crying when i could have responded in any number of 'more productive' ways.
by God's unnecessary grace, i am, more and more, shamelessly sentient.
it's hard to explain to someone who doesn't, at first mention, understand the discipline that it takes to not allow an internal emotion to manifest itself in an unreasonable or unnecessary physical action just because it feels like the right thing. it's harder to explain to someone that mostly though it requires no discipline at all, because if every feeling i experienced in a single day manifested itself with particular mannerisms or ways of being, i would literally be eighteen different people in twenty-four hours. that's approximately one personality every forty minutes. that just gets tiring. mostly people laugh when i tell them that, but it's true.
there is a natural dischord between my internal emotive mechanisms and the things i say and do, not because i'm pretending to be someone i'm not, but because i'm working really hard, and trusting very much that it's possible, to be someone better than i already am.
i went through a stage of really disliking that i could feel things, mostly because a lot of what i feel doesn't necessarily match up with reality. it would frustrate me that my emotions weren't responses to actual people, places or things. it seemed nonsensical that a lot of the time my mood was being held captive, by, well, nothing at all really. or a hormonal cycle. which is dumb. because maybe they're an explanation for volatility but they are hardly an excuse for being crazy and doing crazy and saying crazy things.
so, at the beginning of this year i made it my priority to start turning my emotions into prayers.
it sounds dumb. i'll take it on the chin if you're smirking.
but it seemed right to turn my frustrations into prayers.
and so far God has been nothing but patient and kind in teaching me things.
when i read proverbs 4:23, it makes complete sense to me now that we'd be told to 'above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.' more than anything, look after that thing that 'beats in your chest' and makes you feel things, because it matters, it affects your whole life.
i've had this verse of scripture quoted to me when maneuvering situations with something-but-nothing boys, almost as a warning to be distrusting, to keep to myself, to not let go of anything or give any of me away. with a focus on the guarding. and that never sat quite right with me because it seemed to miss the point of chapter four and seeking wisdom and looking to someone else for counsel, someone who knows better, rather than closing yourself up and in and trying to do all the protecting on your own. with a focus on what flows from that; everything.
it's counter intuitive to open yourself up to another's words in order to be guarded.
but that's life with yahweh for you.
(one day i'll start expecting counter intuitive things to be the case. i should be better at it by now. the gospel is so full of them, in a wonderful way.)
and i'd rather have my heart in his hands than anyone else's. and i'd rather be shaped by his words more than my own sentiments.
in understanding that notion of guarding-by-giving-away better i've realised how kind it is that God has given us things both external and internal that are out of our hands and out of our control and out of our foolish, proud, weak dominion. things both without and within that we have to ask him about, plead with him about, know that he is in control about. he doesn't just beset the land we live on with fires and floods but rains and fuels flames at the very core of who we are. whether we are set alight with anguish or drenched through with melancholy, our hearts are often fickle and fleeting in their affections and affectations at any level. we are forced to trust him with all that is intrinsic and seems most naturally to be manufactured on our own. we are forced to give him even our inmost parts and i'm so thankful. everyday he's helping me feel things that make sense in light of forever.
so, i try less to make myself feel less.
and i rejoice when i feel things that i know are righteous things to feel.
tonight i learnt a lot of things about artifical reproductive technologies that i didn't know before. especially about how many tiny, little six cell babies die all the time because people don't realise and i was glad that i was so sad about it that i almost cried in front of seventy strangers in a lecture theatre.
and, for the first time in a long while, i didn't mind that some of the the seventy strangers probably would have had no idea why i felt like crying when i could have responded in any number of 'more productive' ways.
by God's unnecessary grace, i am, more and more, shamelessly sentient.
an exercise in egotism
'future you will thank you,' is what my friend, michelle, would say to me in that rare situation where i say no to eating yet another chocolate digestive or finishing off the remaining three quarters of a wheel of cheese. tonight though, this future-self-thanking-my-past-self is actually happening fo realz.
sitting in the comfort of the present, on my très en vogue aubergine lounge, i am sending a big 'thank you', in capital letters, to eighteen-months-ago-me for writing something that is a reminder tonight of lots of things i stopped articulating for a number of reasons. growing up and being busy and being afraid are probably the main culprits.
i found this clearing out my hard drive. i wrote it for a boy (something new and different!) to try and explain my head to him (something new and different!).
yes and no are black and white concepts. you can’t have a half yes or a half no; they’re just maybes.
and 'yes, but wait' and 'no, but wait' are also maybes.
and maybes are unclear and don’t make sense and just create dangerous situations. there are no rules and guidelines for maybe. you’re just in limbo and it’s impossible to navigate.
the logical extension of no for now then, has to be no for always.
you can’t have tentative no.
you can have yes now, and it’s on.
but because it’s not yes now, it has to be no now, and therefore no always.
otherwise it’s messy.
and expectations are made and broken all over the place.
it’s all about timing.
which can suck sometimes.
but God has plans and His timing. so, i’m ok to trust that.
in terms of why it’s no now; my head is in a mess.
there are a lot of things at play.
i haven’t thought practically about the purpose of relationships and practically what they look like.
i know a lot about what they shouldn’t be like.
but that’s super reactive. and not at all constructive.
the one thing in my head that is clear is the need for transparency.
so that’s something practical, but it’s not enough. and i figure at some point i’ll think about it more or someone will make me think about it more; but that point is not right now and that person is not you.
but that’s super reactive. and not at all constructive.
the one thing in my head that is clear is the need for transparency.
so that’s something practical, but it’s not enough. and i figure at some point i’ll think about it more or someone will make me think about it more; but that point is not right now and that person is not you.
and i just don’t want to settle.
i want someone who’s going to fight for me, but i want to want them to fight for me.
i don’t know why someone being an objectively great person with a character and qualities and personality traits that i can objectively observe as godly and growing and generally lovely and fun isn’t enough.
but it’s not. it seems like settling.
i just feel like it should be cataclysmic and unstoppable, like you’ll just know. and maybe that’s just my naïveté and idealism charging ahead. but I guess, while I’m young, i’m ok for that to be the case.
and if that’s immature of me, i’m praying that God will grow my understanding. maybe someone objectively being great is enough, and i just need time to realise.
but i’m not quite convinced yet and it just feels deceitful and like lying to someone to say ‘i recognise you as objectively good and so i will give this a go’. and no one wants that to be said to them. everyone wants someone who wants to give them more than just a go.
i want to give someone more than rational consideration.
i want to want to give them everything and have to stop myself and live in that tension, and in all of that miraculously point them to Jesus.
gosh darn, i could treat this like an english text and analyse it for hours.
i want someone who’s going to fight for me, but i want to want them to fight for me.
i don’t know why someone being an objectively great person with a character and qualities and personality traits that i can objectively observe as godly and growing and generally lovely and fun isn’t enough.
but it’s not. it seems like settling.
i just feel like it should be cataclysmic and unstoppable, like you’ll just know. and maybe that’s just my naïveté and idealism charging ahead. but I guess, while I’m young, i’m ok for that to be the case.
and if that’s immature of me, i’m praying that God will grow my understanding. maybe someone objectively being great is enough, and i just need time to realise.
but i’m not quite convinced yet and it just feels deceitful and like lying to someone to say ‘i recognise you as objectively good and so i will give this a go’. and no one wants that to be said to them. everyone wants someone who wants to give them more than just a go.
i want to give someone more than rational consideration.
i want to want to give them everything and have to stop myself and live in that tension, and in all of that miraculously point them to Jesus.
gosh darn, i could treat this like an english text and analyse it for hours.
ascension to egotism complete: tick.
it's less a note for one particular boy than it is a reflection to anyone of particular attitudes and thoughts. there are lots of things i wrote that i disagree with now. but lots of helpful things i'd forgotten that i'd already worked out.
and truly, in practice, i should probably take heed of a lot more of my own logic.
it's less a note for one particular boy than it is a reflection to anyone of particular attitudes and thoughts. there are lots of things i wrote that i disagree with now. but lots of helpful things i'd forgotten that i'd already worked out.
and truly, in practice, i should probably take heed of a lot more of my own logic.
it's funny to see how much more jaded and less wistful i've become in just a short year and a half.
i am a whole lot more fearless now though.
you win some, you lose some.
tulip/paris, 1950, robert frank
 | ||
all that we know and see and touch, all that is tangible,
it's all in a constant state of disrepair.
but there are moments in time that sometimes get captured that seem to articulate just the opposite and seem to hint at the fact that that's not necessarily the case and that maybe things can tend toward the idyllic.
i was in new york almost two years ago and i saw robert frank's photographs for the first time at an exhibit at the met.
it feels as though most of his photographs capture those sorts of moments.
and this is my favourite one.
i like it because paris in winter is grey.
but this man has, hidden in his hand, a fresh flower.
and i don't think it's for no one.
wait until you can't not
i wish i could write lyrics the way that some people do.
i wish i had the ability to filter the significance of a single moment in time into one line.
maybe i'm uplifting lyricists to a pedestal that is not theirs because i attach emotional significance to words without thought and manufacturing sentiment is part of my daily routine.
but there is something about words and music that gets under your skin, that moves you or make you want to move. the other day i found out that my friend who doesn't like dancing doesn't like dancing because he feels no inclination to move to music; an entirely foreign concept. i am by no means in coordinated command of any of my limbs, but i don't know how your natural inclination isn't just to move at least a little bit to the sound of a beat.
yesterday was wednesday. i started a new job. i went to an evening class. i was out of my house for eleven hours and after being out for eleven hours i came home and cooked dinner and went for a walk. and then i sat on the couch with my housemate and she fed me oreos because that's her way of saying 'i'm here to look after you'. and then i went to sleep.
and every portion of my day had a distinct taste to it. i listened to music most of the time that i was alone. and even when i was around people i had lyrics sitting in my head.
on the way to work, josh pyke's 'forever song' started to play as i walked out of town hall station and down park street. four years ago that was the song that was playing when i logged onto the uac website to check my uai, to see what number would come to represent the year that was my hsc. it was sweet that it played yesterday, kind of God to remind me how far he's brought me. if you had asked me four years ago where i thought i'd be now i probably wouldn't have got any of the details of my current life right. i'm not sure where i thought i would have been, but it certainly wouldn't have been here. i know i've been incredibly blessed though, my life is great. and not in a a stiff upper lip way. genuinely so, where i know i've had bestowed on me all sorts of unnecessarily lovely and easy and fun and sweet things that make life good in a way that is more than objective.
in light of a half day of change and learning new words and acronyms and all sorts of things, i was walking across a footbridge to my evening class and track sixteen started to play from an old mix cd. in a day where a lot had shifted already, it was nice to listen to an old easy sad song about unchanging sentiment.
there's only four seasons, but these feelings are always here.
and then i had class, and it was how class always is. people who are far more enthusiastic about publishing than me talking about publishing. don't get me wrong, i love my degree. i care about what i learn. but the fire in my belly just isn't for class. and i think i spent most of the day yesterday waiting for particular words and trying to be patient for them. and on the way to the train home i got fyfe dangerfield in my ear.
these things are fathomlessly out of our hands.
chopping sweet potato into small enough pieces to cook quickly in a frying pan was then more time consuming than anticipated, but i cooked with lots of butter and that always makes me happy because it makes things taste so good. we had no carbs with dinner and i think that was helpful before going on a walk. there were lots of words then and they played like the lyrics of lots of songs and i realised that it's hard to believe lyrics when you don't believe the tune that they're sung to. so, i sat on the sidewalk outside my building for a long while staring at clouds smeared across a half-mooned, starry sky until i remembered listening earlier in the day to the instrumental 'your hands are cold' because mine actually were. and i finally came inside, resolutely.
and i hold you close in the back of my mind.
my housemate, martha, and i are very different but both very stubborn. so when i sat down on the couch with my cup of tea and she looked at me expectantly for a recount of the day but didn't actually ask me anything, i said i wouldn't say anything unless she asked. and so we were just silent for a time being a a bit annoyed and a bit sad at our difference. eventually she went and got some oreos, the peacemakers, and i talked and she asked. i can't remember which happened first though; we are funny creatures. and i played her a weighty song named after pretty, little, white flowers, and i felt the weight of it. and despite it's weight, even today, i am glad that i am at a point in my life where i am not afraid to fight for the good in people. even if it's hard and costly and sometimes makes you cry.
and then i went to bed, and i prayed for some things and for some people and for the peace of Christ to rule my heart.
and as i prayed for sara, i realised that i really miss her on the other side of the world.
and i fell asleep wondering how she is doing in montenegro.
darling, darling, that dam's gonna give.
and in all the lyrics of a long day, the ones i loved the most were from the last chapter of one john; words from a song whose depth i don't yet know, whose weight i have not fully grasped, whose story is mine. the lyrical reality of scripture, the song that my very kind Lord sings by his word, always makes all the difference. and i read them in the morning and in the evening and on trains and on benches and by the light of my lounge room lamp throughout the day so that their sweetness made my whole day sweeter than it would have been without them.
for this is what love for God is: to keep His commands.
now His commands are not a burden,
because whatever has been born of God conquers the world.
this is the victory that has conquered the world:
our faith.
what a wonderful song.
i wish i had the ability to filter the significance of a single moment in time into one line.
maybe i'm uplifting lyricists to a pedestal that is not theirs because i attach emotional significance to words without thought and manufacturing sentiment is part of my daily routine.
but there is something about words and music that gets under your skin, that moves you or make you want to move. the other day i found out that my friend who doesn't like dancing doesn't like dancing because he feels no inclination to move to music; an entirely foreign concept. i am by no means in coordinated command of any of my limbs, but i don't know how your natural inclination isn't just to move at least a little bit to the sound of a beat.
yesterday was wednesday. i started a new job. i went to an evening class. i was out of my house for eleven hours and after being out for eleven hours i came home and cooked dinner and went for a walk. and then i sat on the couch with my housemate and she fed me oreos because that's her way of saying 'i'm here to look after you'. and then i went to sleep.
and every portion of my day had a distinct taste to it. i listened to music most of the time that i was alone. and even when i was around people i had lyrics sitting in my head.
on the way to work, josh pyke's 'forever song' started to play as i walked out of town hall station and down park street. four years ago that was the song that was playing when i logged onto the uac website to check my uai, to see what number would come to represent the year that was my hsc. it was sweet that it played yesterday, kind of God to remind me how far he's brought me. if you had asked me four years ago where i thought i'd be now i probably wouldn't have got any of the details of my current life right. i'm not sure where i thought i would have been, but it certainly wouldn't have been here. i know i've been incredibly blessed though, my life is great. and not in a a stiff upper lip way. genuinely so, where i know i've had bestowed on me all sorts of unnecessarily lovely and easy and fun and sweet things that make life good in a way that is more than objective.
in light of a half day of change and learning new words and acronyms and all sorts of things, i was walking across a footbridge to my evening class and track sixteen started to play from an old mix cd. in a day where a lot had shifted already, it was nice to listen to an old easy sad song about unchanging sentiment.
there's only four seasons, but these feelings are always here.
and then i had class, and it was how class always is. people who are far more enthusiastic about publishing than me talking about publishing. don't get me wrong, i love my degree. i care about what i learn. but the fire in my belly just isn't for class. and i think i spent most of the day yesterday waiting for particular words and trying to be patient for them. and on the way to the train home i got fyfe dangerfield in my ear.
these things are fathomlessly out of our hands.
chopping sweet potato into small enough pieces to cook quickly in a frying pan was then more time consuming than anticipated, but i cooked with lots of butter and that always makes me happy because it makes things taste so good. we had no carbs with dinner and i think that was helpful before going on a walk. there were lots of words then and they played like the lyrics of lots of songs and i realised that it's hard to believe lyrics when you don't believe the tune that they're sung to. so, i sat on the sidewalk outside my building for a long while staring at clouds smeared across a half-mooned, starry sky until i remembered listening earlier in the day to the instrumental 'your hands are cold' because mine actually were. and i finally came inside, resolutely.
and i hold you close in the back of my mind.
my housemate, martha, and i are very different but both very stubborn. so when i sat down on the couch with my cup of tea and she looked at me expectantly for a recount of the day but didn't actually ask me anything, i said i wouldn't say anything unless she asked. and so we were just silent for a time being a a bit annoyed and a bit sad at our difference. eventually she went and got some oreos, the peacemakers, and i talked and she asked. i can't remember which happened first though; we are funny creatures. and i played her a weighty song named after pretty, little, white flowers, and i felt the weight of it. and despite it's weight, even today, i am glad that i am at a point in my life where i am not afraid to fight for the good in people. even if it's hard and costly and sometimes makes you cry.
and then i went to bed, and i prayed for some things and for some people and for the peace of Christ to rule my heart.
and as i prayed for sara, i realised that i really miss her on the other side of the world.
and i fell asleep wondering how she is doing in montenegro.
darling, darling, that dam's gonna give.
and in all the lyrics of a long day, the ones i loved the most were from the last chapter of one john; words from a song whose depth i don't yet know, whose weight i have not fully grasped, whose story is mine. the lyrical reality of scripture, the song that my very kind Lord sings by his word, always makes all the difference. and i read them in the morning and in the evening and on trains and on benches and by the light of my lounge room lamp throughout the day so that their sweetness made my whole day sweeter than it would have been without them.
for this is what love for God is: to keep His commands.
now His commands are not a burden,
because whatever has been born of God conquers the world.
this is the victory that has conquered the world:
our faith.
what a wonderful song.
good news is the best news
my treasure is with jesus.
and there was nothing more exciting this week than giving two bibles to two girls who want to know jesus better. it was just the best thing handing over God's word to them knowing that he is going to help them love him better and serve him better and give everything to him better and live for him alone, in him alone, better.
and when i see him draw little lambs close to him, i am sweetly reminded that he is just the kindest God.
and i just got to talk to one of the beautiful girls i lead in youth group who is in canada on exchange. and she got so excited about telling me about telling her host sister about jesus.
and that just made me want to cry, joyfully.
and she got even more excited telling me that her host sister is excited about coming to church.
and that she wants to know more about giving her life to jesus.
and then i did cry, joyfully.
i can't imagine what i did before knowing Your goodness.
i could sing Your praises forever.
and one day, i will.
uninterrupted.
please, hurry the day.
and thank you for mercy.
and there was nothing more exciting this week than giving two bibles to two girls who want to know jesus better. it was just the best thing handing over God's word to them knowing that he is going to help them love him better and serve him better and give everything to him better and live for him alone, in him alone, better.
and when i see him draw little lambs close to him, i am sweetly reminded that he is just the kindest God.
and i just got to talk to one of the beautiful girls i lead in youth group who is in canada on exchange. and she got so excited about telling me about telling her host sister about jesus.
and that just made me want to cry, joyfully.
and she got even more excited telling me that her host sister is excited about coming to church.
and that she wants to know more about giving her life to jesus.
and then i did cry, joyfully.
i can't imagine what i did before knowing Your goodness.
i could sing Your praises forever.
and one day, i will.
uninterrupted.
please, hurry the day.
and thank you for mercy.
discipline is not a dirty word
i know i've said that before, but i don't think that i believe that it's true.
and i feel like a rotting piece of fruit on a kitchen counter filling the air with an acrid sweetness, having the form of something pleasing to the body, but lacking any goodness in nourishment, taste or touch.
i need help starting new habits, please.
and i need help breaking bad, old ones too.
fill me, Lord; i'm just tired.
strengthen me, Lord; i don't think i have the capacity.
and help me to remember, Lord,
that in the face of everything, the old covenant, the world or anything in the world, desires and plans, all that shimmers but fades,
jesus is better.
and i feel like a rotting piece of fruit on a kitchen counter filling the air with an acrid sweetness, having the form of something pleasing to the body, but lacking any goodness in nourishment, taste or touch.
i need help starting new habits, please.
and i need help breaking bad, old ones too.
fill me, Lord; i'm just tired.
strengthen me, Lord; i don't think i have the capacity.
and help me to remember, Lord,
that in the face of everything, the old covenant, the world or anything in the world, desires and plans, all that shimmers but fades,
jesus is better.
'and, behold, i am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest.'
and jacob's ladder is my ladder and his name is emmanuel, saviour, christ and king, jesus.
and some days i ache and cry because He feels so far away even though i know how near He is.
and because i just want so much for my mum and dad and sister to say ' then shall the LORD be my God' as jacob did.
but i am learning, more and more, to awake from my sleep saying 'surely the LORD is in this place and i knew it not'.
so i sit at the at the corner of laden and lofty, and wait for that tomorrow, soon, when even the highest of expectations will not be disappointed and where even to keep expecting more will not be expecting enough.
everyday, my heart is a feather and bricks establishment.
and some days i ache and cry because He feels so far away even though i know how near He is.
and because i just want so much for my mum and dad and sister to say ' then shall the LORD be my God' as jacob did.
but i am learning, more and more, to awake from my sleep saying 'surely the LORD is in this place and i knew it not'.
so i sit at the at the corner of laden and lofty, and wait for that tomorrow, soon, when even the highest of expectations will not be disappointed and where even to keep expecting more will not be expecting enough.
everyday, my heart is a feather and bricks establishment.
little darling
i spent the weekend sitting under scripture at a conference in katoomba, and have heard preach over the past week three faithful, wise and godly men who love jesus and who have a wealth of knowledge and life experience. praise God for His kindness.
and in all i've heard, i've realised that i so often ignore the kiss of God's word on my heart, and that i am very quick to let slip from my mind any anticipation of jesus' return and eternity that scripture instils in me.
in my life, His word is hardly the stoke for faith's fire that He has gifted it to me to be.
it's spring, finally.
and yesterday as i was hanging out my washing on the clothes line, the sun hit my back and the warmth met my skin. there's something about the coolness of winter that draws out the sweetness of that first spring kiss of sun. and my face couldn't help but overflow with a smile. a lightness pervaded my day, and the anticipation of that hot summer breeze on a balmy summer night has been enough fuel for the fading ember of motivation that is my current approach to university. there's two months left of semester and i'm counting the days. my eye is set on november sixth.
and i figure that my time spent listening to my creator and saviour and king and lord should probably be a lot more like that sun on my back than it is.
there should be joy.
there should be anticipation.
because i am a bad listener, i forget that any goodness now is like those few days of unseasonable warmth between the months of june to august when you can step outside with bare legs and enjoy it even though it's meant to be winter. any goodness now is like the spring that sets my eyes on summer. i should expect sinfulness and brokenness and relish, with thankfulness, the grace that God pours out when my brothers and sisters are more like jesus and when things stay put together. and all those big and small graces that He sets before us should have me counting the days until forever. my eye ought to be set.
how sweet a balm is the word of God to the lips of my chapped heart?
(so sweet, sweet as that first kiss of spring sun.)
and what joy shall fill that same chapped heart when the day of jesus' return dawns?
(the fullness of joy that is in no more night.)
for a while, i had forgotten what my favourite song was.
and i had forgotten why it was my favourite song.
but listening to it this morning makes both those forgetfulnesses seem very foolish, really.
it's been a long, cold, lonely winter.
but i am destined for a Son-kissed eternity.
and in all i've heard, i've realised that i so often ignore the kiss of God's word on my heart, and that i am very quick to let slip from my mind any anticipation of jesus' return and eternity that scripture instils in me.
in my life, His word is hardly the stoke for faith's fire that He has gifted it to me to be.
it's spring, finally.
and yesterday as i was hanging out my washing on the clothes line, the sun hit my back and the warmth met my skin. there's something about the coolness of winter that draws out the sweetness of that first spring kiss of sun. and my face couldn't help but overflow with a smile. a lightness pervaded my day, and the anticipation of that hot summer breeze on a balmy summer night has been enough fuel for the fading ember of motivation that is my current approach to university. there's two months left of semester and i'm counting the days. my eye is set on november sixth.
and i figure that my time spent listening to my creator and saviour and king and lord should probably be a lot more like that sun on my back than it is.
there should be joy.
there should be anticipation.
because i am a bad listener, i forget that any goodness now is like those few days of unseasonable warmth between the months of june to august when you can step outside with bare legs and enjoy it even though it's meant to be winter. any goodness now is like the spring that sets my eyes on summer. i should expect sinfulness and brokenness and relish, with thankfulness, the grace that God pours out when my brothers and sisters are more like jesus and when things stay put together. and all those big and small graces that He sets before us should have me counting the days until forever. my eye ought to be set.
how sweet a balm is the word of God to the lips of my chapped heart?
(so sweet, sweet as that first kiss of spring sun.)
and what joy shall fill that same chapped heart when the day of jesus' return dawns?
(the fullness of joy that is in no more night.)
for a while, i had forgotten what my favourite song was.
and i had forgotten why it was my favourite song.
but listening to it this morning makes both those forgetfulnesses seem very foolish, really.
it's been a long, cold, lonely winter.
but i am destined for a Son-kissed eternity.
time warp
restoring from backup from the twelfth of january is annoying. blergh.
looking at my phone right now, it's like the past six months of my life didn't happen.
looking at my phone right now, it's like the past six months of my life didn't happen.
until the day dawns
please turn my scope
to that rich and vast expanse of sky
that spells out your word.
and with each of my words
and in all of my deeds
for every day that you gift me breath
may i show the world your hands and your feet and your side.
to that rich and vast expanse of sky
that spells out your word.
and with each of my words
and in all of my deeds
for every day that you gift me breath
may i show the world your hands and your feet and your side.
i often feel like everything good seems to get lost in brokenness. my perception is often that there is more grief in the world than joy, and looking around on any given day it wouldn't seem as though i was wrong. but on any given day there seems also to be as much possibility for happiness as there is for suffering. the unmet potential of the former just grates our hearts more acutely than the balm that is the absence of the latter soothes. the former is the desire of our hearts, and so its evasion of our grasp sits as a heavier weight on our chests. sometimes i catch myself reprimanding myself and humanity for ever feeling like happiness and joy are our prerogative. what gives us the right to think we deserve even an iota of goodness?
and quickly and kindly i am always reminded that the question is not what, but who.
and that His name is Yahweh and that He whispers grace and peace in my ear.
and quickly and kindly i am always reminded that the question is not what, but who.
and that His name is Yahweh and that He whispers grace and peace in my ear.
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