re: time

I am never content in this time and space quantum.

I want to be a child again. I want to be joyful for no reason at all, and curious for no reason other than curiosity itself and have time to be me and to be free. I want someone to take responsibility for me when I hurt myself.

I want to be an adult. I am impatient to start my own family. I crave the freedom of deciding where to live   and the opportunity to create a life that is so unique to me that it could be nobody’s but mine own.

I’m not sure if I want to grow up.

I am caught between two worlds. I long to be in a relationship, to be known in an intimate way, but I appreciate the freedom of singleness. I want to independent, but I need advice and support. I will always be dependent, but I want freedom to explore the world. I make decisions about my future, but I need validity that they are the right ones.

I want to change who I am. I have ideals and aspirations of the person I should be and the person who is me admist the lies of the world. Is my identity dependent on my conception of time? In heaven will I be the truest of myself? Am I a dot on a line graph, moving from point A to point B, morphing into someone I will barely recognize? Or am I a wave, a multifacted identity constast, but constnatly changing?

I finally figure things out, but it seems that I am always a bit too late. I find friends, but they drift and come. No one stays, with or for me. I understand my family, but then I move away. I discover that I love someone, but they move on. He likes me, but there’s someone else in my life. I figure out the truth, but it’s too late.

Who am I? Will I ever be me, in this earth, in this body? What is man without a body? Who did God create me to be, and is it my body, heart, soul or mind that matters in the end?

Can I be happy in the present? Can I stop striving for the future and lamenting the past? I continually attempt to overcome my weaknesses because of shame in the past. I live in the past, and the past drives my striving for the future. But I don’t live. I never live. I have lived and will live. I am confined by the instant of the moment, and live in the dreams of others and the dreams of the past, but I don’t live present.

I want to breathe dreams like air. I want to drink the salubrity of the sky. I want to hear the music of the spheres.

Lord, teach me how to live.

re: vulnerability

You listen to me over dining hall pizza and cold black coffee. You listen and I see the sympathy in your eyes. You don’t say a word. Minutes earlier you were the one talking and I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe, and I thank you for these moments of joy and unconditional love.

But you stopped and listened when I said I had something to tell you. Your eyes were intent, bearing into my soul, oblivious to the people bustling around and this crappy coffee. You didn’t say much; you understand first. You listened with your heart and I know that you cared.

You listened to me over hushed tones in the fifth floor of the library; we whispered and somehow it made it easier to share. And after I finished, I heard your story about today. Your struggle is my struggle and mine, yours. I almost cried when I heard when I heard what your today was like. Mine is still significant, but it doesn’t seem as bad.

I was reluctant to tell you, but I’m so glad I did. You said you would pray for me. Right now, I can’t pray because I can’t find the words admist my frustration. So, it means so much to me that you will pray for me. It means so much when you respect my confidentiality and vulnerability. I know this beause you confide in me as I do in you.

When I tell you the parts of me that are hurting and my embarrassing moments, you acknowledge my miscomings, not afraid to give me truth. But we move on and do life together, and you give me measures of grace as I fall and rise.

I sometimes am afraid to trust people. I do not want them to hurt me. I have been hurt so many times after I have told the bitter and honest truth and the things that people never want to hear. I can be too direct. But I also do not want to pursue people because I fear that  they will not like the mess they find. I do not want them to feel cornered or like I am intruding on their personal life with my brokenness. For their sake and my sake, I turn away so many times. But when I do show you my soul, it is clear that God is listening to me and to you and that it is His love that binds us together.

We need to intrude. We need to infiltrate each other’s lives with love so that no one is alone. Fears should be quenched with love, lonliness should be sutured with kindess and uncertainty should be contronted with truth and grace. There is power in being honest with one another. It doesn’t matter if where we are; I know you will stop and listen when I need.

Sometimes I am so worn from hearing about other’s pain. I feel so burdened by mine own that I cannot sit in front of you and listen to your struggles when I am on the point of tears myself. But that’s where the Father lifts our worries, commanding us to have peace and be still. That’s when grace happens to your soul and mine, and life becomes a bit easier.