I live in an oven.
But not just an oven, this is an oven that melts stuff. Like metal. Like tungsten I can melt tungsten in my room. The melting point of tungsten is 6150 degrees Fahrenheit. So I meant to post this post awhile ago, and then I started hating everything I wrote so it got lost. I still am not a huge fan of my writing right now but....
0 Comments
"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate" (Abandon all hope ye who enter here) I guess putting what Dante said was inscribed above the gates of hell as the opening to my blog isn't the best idea. But I guess if I set the expectations low enough you won't be disappointed, right? We're all just a bunch of people holding each other like we were pomegranates.
We want so desperately to know each other, to taste, to see, and to feel one another. But we are terrified of getting a stain on us. We know that if we try diving in we might get messy. We might get really messy. And we might get hurt. And we might lose something. But have you tasted a pomegranate? They're delicious. I love pomegranates, and I want to love people like I was a little kid who wasn't afraid of getting messy. And I want people around me to love me that way too. Because I know I'm worth it. You, all of you reading this, you are worth it. I will stain you, and you will stain me, and together we can go through this life all with all our shirts dyed red from each others messes. I'd rather walk hand in hand with my closets friends knowing I didn't hold back, than to have a clean shirt. Pomegranates are in season. I want to get to know you. I want you to know me. So please open me up. I want to be known. And I want to know you. Ivy grows on my walls,
it over takes my body, it reaches deep into my throat, and coats the walls of my lungs. my feet turn into dirt, my bones into sand, water comes from my ears, and my heart explodes. all that i am is decaying away, everything I've held falls, I am laying in a pool of myself, what do I have that I can hold onto? I am a pool of water unmoved, I am the stale air that sits in a cave, I am a rock that sits under a rock that is covered by a bolder that is covered with dirt. I am unseen, unknown, and unwanted. I have no purpose. unless someone jumps in. unless someone climbs into me and breaths me in. unless I am dug up and uncovered. unless I am found. when I am found, and when I am held. I will be to you as gold, as silver. I will be diamonds. more loyal than a dog. and more loving than a flower. when I am found, someday. I will be ready for you I will have value, to you. and when I find you and I will. you I can hold you. we will run through the halls of life, your hand in mine not looking back and also not forgetting it, and when we come to the end of ourselves we will burst through those curtains take our final bow, and together we will turn into dust into ashes into dirt So I have been writing Yahweh in Hebrew on my arm for awhile. I'm thinking about getting it tattoo on there and lots of people have been asking me about it. It's lead to some pretty cool opportunities and conversations.
Lots of them have revolved around the ideas of sex and dating. I'm not sure why that's one of the first things people ask you when they find out you believe in God, but it seems to be a pretty common trend lately. So here it is, my thoughts on dating and sex. I just stood there, looking at that fridge.
It was... It was beautiful. In the most classic, purest, true form of the word. It was beautiful. Never has a fridge caused such a rush of emotions in my life, and I would venture to guess never again shall it. To be honest tears almost started to form in my eyes. It was one of the weirdest things. But ode to my mini fridge. How I love thee. I'm not a kid anymore.
I just sat and looked at myself in the mirror for five minutes. Just staring. Wondering at the person I've become, wondering about the person I will be. Wondering what happened to time. When did all this hair start to appear on my face. That's the thing that's been getting me lately. No I can't grow a beard or any of that stuff. Oh how I wish I could. But I can't. But I do have facial hair. And as I see it on my face and I look at my jaw, and just the shape of my face, I feel like I'm looking at a stranger. What happened to time? When did I become a college student. I can remember as though it was yesterday my 6th grade jr. high retreat. I remember putting candy, pickles, and a card in a girls locker for valentines day. I remember my voice changing. I remember playing the nasty drink game at lunch. I remember sleepovers. I remember the first coed party I was invited to. I remember running into a door and getting a bump on my head. I remember AIM. I remember mybuddyprofile.com I remember DaDateDoctor123. I remember the plays I was in. I remember standing up for Nathan on the playground. I remember writing poetry. I remember the song "Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down being my favorite song. I remember moving schools. I remember California. I remember eating lunch alone. I remember being lonely. I remember being so happy I would burst into laughter even when I was alone. I remember just being a kid in everyones eyes. I remember being a kid. I want to tell you something.
You are beautiful. Your personality, your laugh, your smile, the skin that is stretched over your bones. You are beautiful. And you are loved. You have value. You have worth. And you, you make God happy. He didn't mess up when He made you. And He doesn't regret making you. He loves you I think we all hold on to the past in some ways.
There is always something that we wish we still had that we lost somewhere along the way. It’s hard to fully jump into the present or the thought of the future. Especially when everything around you is changing. This season of my life has been marked by change. Pretty much everything in my life now is different than this time last year. And I have found my self trying to hold onto the past. Trying to somehow bring it back to life, to somehow shock a corpse back into existence. But I’ve found that it doesn’t work. No matter how hard I try, the past is gone. Everything’s different. And that’s ok. Maybe we hold onto the past because it is familiar. Maybe it’s because we are afraid that the future cannot complete with what we once had. Or maybe it’s because we are afraid of what’s ahead. But I do know this. We are called from glory to glory. God did not call you out of something that’s giving you life to give you death. He moves us from glory to glory and it’s the glory of God to conceal a matter, and the glory of kings to search it out. We must search out God’s will for us in the present. We will never grow if we stay living in the past. Maybe we should appreciate the past but move forward not thinking about what is behind but straining for what’s ahead. He hasn’t called us to fear or worry, but to trust. So I show up to English class and our assignment for the day was to go out somewhere on campus and observe people. This is what I saw:
A light haired man leans against a wall. He is a stoic character. In his eyes it looks as though he is pondering something deep and profound. The meaning of life or the way the West was won. He moves under the awning of the building as to shield himself from the harsh heat of the sun. He is alone. An island unto himself. Likewise a woman sits alone on a bench. Her only friend is her phone and her cigarette. She takes deep breaths from the cigarette as though she is reuniting with a long lost lover. Her cigarette glows with the warmth and passion burning inside the two. |
Archives
October 2019
|