[ten things i know to be true]

1. Change tastes like tears-- the celebratory kind and the dripping heart kind together and all at once.
   
2. Sixpence None the Richer's version of "Silent Night" is the best I've ever heard.
3. ^ That music video is hecka scary. I know cuz I just found it and watched it. I think it's the eyes.
   
4. It's next to impossible for me to keep my room clean for 3 consecutive days.
5. I'm being re-wired even now; I'm trying to unlearn unhealthy habits, behaviors, and beliefs that I've clung to since childhood. It's hard.
   
6. The promise of bacon in the morning can get me up like no other. Not even 3 alarms can pull that off quite as well.
7. "Coming To America" is by far Eddie Murphy's best movie. So quotable! "To be loved, to be loved! Ohhhh what a feeling-- to be loved!"
8. That "Tangled" scene with the parents running to meet her (at the very end) gets me every time. Every. Single. Time. (Ask me about it sometime and I'll for sure get all weepy on you).
9. I am physically unable to see chocolate-covered strawberries and not buy them. (This may be a lie, but there's truth in it).
10. Deep down everyone just wants to be known and accepted and loved-- in spite of themselves.
    

Earth's creator, Everyday God,
Loving Maker, O Jesus,
You who shaped us, O Spirit,
Recreate us, Come, be with us.

In your presence, Everyday God,
We are gathered, O Jesus,
You have called us, O Spirit,
To restore us, Come, be with us.

Life of all lives, Everyday God,
Love of all loves, O Jesus,
Hope of all hopes, O Spirit,
Light of all lights, Come, be with us.

In our resting, Everyday God,
In our rising, O Jesus,
In our hoping, O Spirit,
In our waiting, Come, be with us.

In our dreaming, Everyday God,
In our daring, O Jesus,
In our searching, O Spirit,
In our sharing, Come, be with us.

God of laughter, Everyday God,
God of sorrow, O Jesus,
Home and shelter, O Spirit,
Strong and patient, Come, be with us.

Way of freedom, Everyday God,
Star of morning, O Jesus,
Timeless healer, O Spirit,
Flame eternal, Come, be with us.

Word of gladness, Everyday God,
Word of mercy, O Jesus,
Word of friendship, O Spirit,
Word of challenge, Come, be with us.

Our beginning, Everyday God,
Our unfolding, O Jesus,
Our enduring, O Spirit,
Journey's ending, Come, be with us.

Alleluia, Everyday God,
Now and always, O Jesus,
Alleluia, O Spirit,
Through all ages, Come, be with us.

[NEWS]

I LOVE MY NEPHEW AND MY GODSON
THEY ARE SO FREAKING CUTE OH MAH GAHHHHRSH!!


Just sayin'. :)

"can't stand it // i know ya planned it"

i eat oatmeal at four in the morning.
i google lyrics to obscure songs.
i pace.
i organize files on my computer.
i play bejeweled.
i hide.

[hear me through my silence]

(this has my fingerprints all over it
and it reeks of the familiar).

i remember losing my balance,
being bent over backwards
and tossed about in the waves.
i remember pleas that i cried out on keys
at hours of the night when nothing good ever happens.
i remember the calls i'm ashamed i made
thinking that if could draw out tendrils of feeling--
even if it was pity--
i could draw it about me like a blanket.
i never stopped to think
that i'd lose me in the process.

i see you. and i'm sorry.
but i can't be the one to fix you.
and sometimes it's better to be broken... first.
would you let Him pick up the pieces that you and i can't?

(this is for me too).

[my questions are never fair]

it's about control - and this is why i clean my room - why my floor is immaculate tonight - this morning - why my pens are all the right side up and my receipts are all in order - this is why my dollar bills all face the same way and why my books line my shelves - it's my way of saying my world is alright - that there are things i can fix - that i can force to stay - and be - here - in this way

[the leaves are changing and flying by]

This morning he asked me to describe this phase of my life in one sentence.

this odd transition year, filled to the brim with change. learning how to live this post-grad life. how to maintain friendships and try to branch out for new ones at the same time-- feeling defiant and lonely at the same time. longing for a time when friends were less than a phone call away-- they were right down the street or right down the hall or next door. figuring out community and ministry in a new place. being in a new place! working with a team-- learning how to be. finding my voice, rediscovering myself in a sense. or maybe just re-establishing. being a shoulder and a nudge, a comfort and a push at the same time. learning how to love and challenge in one fell swoop. knowing just when things start to gel that i'll need to leave. feeling the urgency of the temporary. constant change, always whooshing past me. whirling around me. on to the next thing. uprooting and re-planting like steps to a dance i don't know quite yet. stumbling and bumbling over my own feet and choices and breaths.

Indeed. The leaves are changing and flying by. It's all I can do to keep from getting bowled over.

sometimes i think of you and i'm angry again - not usually, not even often or once in a while - but on those rare occasions that i think of you - and i remember - i want to blame you for everything - for the snowball of hurt that you sent my way - that just picked up speed on its way down - knocking others over in its frenzy - because it's not fair - i broke a heart like it was no big deal - like snapping a leaf off a tree branch - and i can't blame him for being in pieces - no more than i can blame myself for being angry - at you - because you said forever - god, how freaking cliche - because you said it was you and me - in it to win it - but hell, i was in it - and yeah, you won my heart - but where did that get me - what did that get me - (it's 3AM and i must be lonely)

i hate that you have so much of me - my living journal, my walking diary - so many stories told and found in you - now lost forever - it's no wonder i made the cry of a wounded animal - when i hurled your news across the room - i knew a part of me was dying or would - do you even know how you broke me - how i am still picking up the pieces - shouldn't i be done by now - isn't this over yet - (i hate that your memory can still hurt me)

and i just feel it all over again - the pain comes crashing over me - like an old friend with a bear hug - crushing me to itself until i'm forced to remember - and i'm forced to feel - and that old ache swells again in my chest - and the lump rises again in my throat - and i remember how it felt to be choking on air - suffocating amidst the dust of my world in shambles around me - i can feel it

and in moments - it's gone - and i remember the boy - but i don't remember the feeling anymore - all i know is that it is not in my nature to forgive - i wonder if i'll ever really get there - but i'm breathing now - and that must mean something

"Every woman I've ever met feels it--
something deeper than just the sense of failing at what she does.
An underlying, gut feeling of failing at who she is.
I am not enough, and, I am too much at the same time.
Not pretty enough, not thin enough, not kind enough,
not gracious enough, not disciplined enough.
But too emotional, too needy, too sensitive,
too strong, too opinionated, too messy.
The result is Shame, the universal companion of women.
It haunts us, nipping at our heels,
feeding on our deepest fear
that we will end up abandoned and alone."
- Captivating by John & Stasi Eldredge

sometimes i think i feel too much
(all that's left is all of me)

[on resolutions]

I said I'd give You my attitude, didn't I?
Help me give it to You again today.
And tomorrow. And the next day.
And the next...

[and as these shadows fall on me now]

"Shut up," Ender whispered.

Because she saw that his chest was trembling, because she knew that she had indeed hurt him, because she knew that just like Peter, she had found his weakest place and stabbed him there, she fell silent.

[asphyxiation]

i've always been a sensory sort of gal
in uncannily amelie-like fashion

the sound of clacking keys beneath my finger tips
the feel of inky black pens carving thought
into the unwilling softness of white
the scent of sharpie permanence

--just itching to feel
because i don't know myself
without words

[what is love?]

it's what frees you
to be exactly who you are
and could be

[seck you lerr]

Soon I want to blog about why I hate the term "secular."
Hate it. Abhor it. With a passion.
Soon.
Not now.
But soon.

[mmm]

Is it weird to be nervous about being too happy?

A few things from today:

(in no particular order)

1. I love raw conversations. And the fact that Poca and I are both external processors.
   
2. I love Southeast-Asian curry more than any other curry.
3. My family is ten kinds of ridiculous... but I wouldn't have it any other way.
4. : )
5. And I'm pretty screwed up. But really... we're all pretty screwy.

[what i was thinking about during service that i don't know if i feel anymore]

when i look in the mirror
i don't see me-- i see my mother
and i'm not sure if it's because of my olive skin and Spanish temper
that blazes like a firecracker
or simply because i can hear her voice in my head
telling me who i am, but even more
who i'm not and should be

when i look in the mirror
i see her failures... and mine
i see her grip on my shoulder, pushing me
to be everything she ever was
to redeem every single thing she wasn't
wanting a better life for me than she ever had for herself

yet in my own eyes i find her disappointment staring back at me
i find buried memories
that adamantly refuse to be forgotten and stuffed under the bed
and i stare
and i remember
and i'm sorry (for who i am and who i'm not)

but as it is, we remain two sides of the same coin
ever flipping over and over, 'round and 'round
telling the same sad story
of heartache and regret and shame
to the point where i forget whose reflection is whose
when i look in the mirror.

[allison]

I ran into an old friend from high school earlier today. I hadn't seen her in years. And yet she said she still recognized my voice behind her in line for Panda Express.

It's funny how memories come at you in waves. They taunt you and draw you in... until you're completely immersed in the past. From head to toe you feel the you that you once were. And you remember. More than any details, you remember how you felt.

And so as we made small talk about how we've been and what we plan to do in life, I felt the past creep in bit by bit. I remembered trying out for the school musical with her. How we'd been so excited to try out together; how sad I was when she didn't make it with me, since she was the one who encouraged me to try in the first place. I remembered the day she told me that her dad had cancer, how calmly she seemed to put it all out there... and yet in her crossed arms I could see her trying to hold it together, almost succeeding. I remembered not quite knowing what to say, but how I hurt for her. How all I could do was put an arm around her and sit in silence. I remember hearing that she was dropping out for a while because he passed away. How I was too nervous and unsure of how to even approach the subject when she came back to school. How I wanted to tell her I was sorry-- and yet fearing somehow that it wouldn't help at all. I remembered, before graduation, taking her yearbook and scrawling out the heartfelt words that I never knew how to say out loud before. Hoping it was better late than never.

...I'm not sure how to wrap up this story. There's no neat and compact way to file this one under Lessons Learned. All I know is that it leaves me feeling unsettled.

1. I hope that I'm never that kind of person again. Too self-conscious to go out on a limb for a friend.
2. I need to remember that everyone has a story. And most of time time, it takes a closer look to realize that.
   

[invitacion fountain]

Even if half of the time I just feel like a little kid playing the role of a "grown up"... :P

where you lead me, Lord, i will follow
if you lead me, Lord, i will go

[hand over those digits]

"And they talked for a time of their plans and wishes...
gravely, earnestly, hopefully as youth love to talk,
while the future is yet an untrodden path
full of wonderful possibilities."
- Anne of Avonlea

This week has been chock-full of talk about relationships. Seriously. From ideal physical features of a significant other to how DTRs should be conducted, from sharing our dating age ranges to how exactly we'd like to be swept off our feet. Most of these discussions have been 2 parts silly, 1 part uncomfortable, and 5 parts hopeful. (Something like that anyway).

But what I've really come away with is a lesson my parents have been trying to teach me for as long as I can remember. "J, you need to learn to have open hands." What they meant was not to hold onto anything in life too tightly. Don't clench those hopes, ideals, or dreams so tightly in your fist. What they meant was that I needed to hold everything, hold life with an open hand. Because when you hold something with an open hand, you're really not holding anything at all. It's acknowledging that God already has everything in His hands. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.

And so I'm rethinking all this talk about dating and relationships... and I'm thinking about how I'm acutely single-- not to be confused with "cutely single"-- and I'm thinking... this is quite alright. So that old five-year-plan that flew out the window so long ago isn't being adjusted to become a hopeful three-or-four-year-plan. Here's the new plan: yield. I trust that God is good and that He wants His best for me, whatever that looks like. And that any guy worth having will want a woman who yields her life to Christ anyway. Open hands.