Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Because I love you.

I stand in this empty room
Angry flames lick at the walls, consuming any hope of home
I stand paralyzed
Afraid that the slightest movement
Might expose my insubstantial vulnerability

The room goes down in flames
Decomposing into ashes
A cold, cold wind whips against my lonesome body

I open my mouth, finally
But immediately my screams
Are smothered by mouthfuls of white, cold ashes
I swallow these and feel the sickness deepening inside of me

I need to purge my mind
Of all of this dementia
This sick, addicting cycle
That finds me always trapped
In a room now cold and uninviting
Later hot and overcrowded

Sleep brings only fear at night
Fear of the imminent moment
When proof enough’s provided
Of my sickened mind’s absence

I’ve let this go on for too long
I can’t find my way  back
Did I ever even leave at all?

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
I don’t know where I am
Or where I am to go
Where was I in the first place?
I know there was a place called home

Why? Why so much confusion?
Can I run and leave my thoughts behind?

I want to erase myself
Erase myself, start over
Start anew with me, won’t You?
Tear me up
Throw away this mess
Draw me all over again

I think I know where I’m going
It’s not where I want to be, at all
I’m going back to Silence
I feel myself disengaging
Tangled in misperceptions
In this burning house’s evil deceptions

The air escapes my lungs
Walls composed of my life’s every wrong turn
Are quickly closing in on me

I want to scream but can’t
I see them walking past
They smile and wave
I want to turn and run
But I smile instead
And with every smile my heart is crying
Why, why?

Because I love you, Ana
And I need You to really want to come to me
I can’t force you to come back to me
You have to desire it

But I do!
Don’t You get it?
That’s what I’m asking of You!
Do You think I really want to stay like this?
Sick, and crazy, and mutilated?
I want to come back to You!

Do you?

Yes. I mean… Yeah…

Ah, you hesitate…

No, it’s just. I think… I’m scared
I’m scared of coming back
I don’t know the way
And the journey seems so long, so daunting

Of course it’s long
There’s no doubt about that
It will be long and you will want to quit as soon as you get started
But I will be there
Right by your side
Taking the same journey
I will be there, Ana, which is more than most can do for you

But I don’t want to let You down…

Ana, don’t you understand?
I love you! I want to do this with you…
I want to be there for you.

Why do I hesitate so much?!

Don’t, Ana. Just tell me you want to do this with me and we will.
You don’t have to deal with all this junk.
I’ll handle it.


I want to. I’m tired of this.
I want to do this with You.
I’m ready… no, well, yes.
I am.
Take over.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Hoorah!

Maybe tomorrow I won't find this funny. But right now.... uh, 5:48PM, I think it is hilarious!

Friday, November 14, 2008

Wow.

Mr. Spearman talked to us about the end times on Wednesday. My, is he an intelligent man! Well, here's something I found on Godtube.com to go along with that. Very powerful. Made my heart jump.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Mangled, Healing Heart

I stand before the mirror. Beside my reflection stands a man dressed in black.

Though he's not family or friend, he's no stranger to me. His name is sometimes Thief, sometimes Liar, Snake, Death.

He watches me with sneering eyes that dance with fear. He looks me up and down and licks his lips. I glance at his reflection in the mirror and grimace.

"Go away."

There was a time, before I new him as well as I do now, when he seemed so handsome and seductive in my eyes. He came to me in a time of extreme confusion, when I thought all I needed was to feel loved. And I did, but not by just anybody.

We began to spend more and more time together. He promised to give me everything I needed. As soon as I agreed to trust him, he reached inside his coat, drew out a knife and drove it right through my heart. He skewered any love and confidence I had in myself. And as I stood there, weeping, staring up at him with shocked disbelief, my torn and bleeding heart in my hands, he caressed my face gently. He neared his mouth to my ear and whispered that it was all okay.

"You just need to try a little harder," he whispered to me. "Be a little smatter, a little prettier. Do that and you can have this" - he took my mangled heart from me - "back."

And so from then on I did what he said. Come here, go there, wear this, wear that, eat this, eat that, listen to this, listen to that, look at her, look at him. Everything he said I did. I obeyed without protesting, rarely questioning, always following.

Then one night, I had a sudden thought. 'I don't have to keep doing this...'

And so I began refusing him. He would say, "Come here," and I would force myself to stay or run the opposite way.

Obviously, he did not like that. But I knew I had to break ties with him completely.

So I found a new Friend. The best one I've ever had. He rescued me and gave my heart back to me, wounded, yes, but healing, nonetheless.

And now I stand before the mirror and Liar is here beside me.

"Go away," I tell him, reaching for a hairbrush and running it through my hair.

"Why do you even try?" Liar sneers. "You know you're not good enough. You never will be, no matter what."

I clench my teeth. His words hurt. I begin to panic. No, no, no, I tell myself. Don't listen to him. Don't listen.

"Just be quiet. Leave me alone. I'm over you," I say with my strongest voice and go on to tie my hair up into a ponytail.

"Stop it!" He yells suddenly. "I can't stand it! Stop! No matter what you do you'll never be good enough, you hear me? Never!"

I stare at myself in the mirror, my eyes wide. Old fears and insecurities start rushing back. My heart beats faster, beating itself up against my chest. He's right...

"You're right," I whisper, my voice breaking.

"No, he's not," says a third voice.

In the mirror, another Man stands beside me. His face is kind but it holds a righteous fierceness about it. There's a glow about Him that I can't explain, but I slowly begin to feel more and more at peace, though my old wounds still throb and sting inside.

The Man looks at me with eyes so full of love. "You're perfect the way you are," He tells me softly.

Liar scoffs. "She'll never get anywhere in life."

My Defender glares at him. "You don't know that. You didn't make her, did you?"

"Whatever. Look at her! She's uh-gly! And pretty stupid, too."

"She was beautifully, perfectly designed to fulfill the purpose for which she was made."

I take a step closer to the white-robed man and take His outstretched hand. He holds it firmly and draws me closer to Him.

Liar screams and punches the wall.

The Man wraps His arms around me. He pulls away gently and looks down at me, smiling tenderly. After giving my face one last caress, He gives me a little push.

"Okay, now. You're going to be late to school."

I give Him one last embrace, and leave the room. Again He has reminded me that I am beautiful. Not according to MTV or Popstar. But according to the Lord Most High.

And whose opinion can I value more than His?

Monday, November 10, 2008

Parental Consent

Okay...
So I had a freaking huge headache this morning, and the school wouldn't give me anything for it without my parent's consent.
But I can go get a freaking ABORTION without telling anyone.
Tell me, is that messed up or what?

Oh, my. It's a sad, sad world we live in.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Pain & Sickness

A boy from St. Joseph died recently.

I didn't know him. I'd never heard his names until today.

My heart hurts for his family and friends. Oh, God, how I wish I had the words of comfort that they need. How I wish I could take the pain away. I can't imagine what their parents must be going through right now...

Life is so unpredictable. You're in the car, laughing with a friend, telling him, 'Yeah, you can change that song,' and then your hearts up at your throat and you're frantically trying to swerve those headlights coming straight at you.

I wish I could do something. I feel like throwing up.

God, You're still in control. You still know what You're doing, even when it doesn't make much sense to us at all.

You're still the loving God. Be with his family, comforting them, holding them, carrying them. I love You.

Just Another One Of Those Days

Today is just another one of those days. I feel so... stuck. I know, great word. But I do. I've been trying to do some more to Jake and Remy's story (maybe I'll talk about them more eventually), but everytime I sit down to do so, either something comes up or I'm so drained that I can't think coherently.

Ugh. It almost feels like giving up on writing would make my life easier...

Okay, I had to get that out of my system. Of course life wouldn't be easier. I'd feel so gunked up inside and frustrated and tired... Like I do right now! I need to be able to put my thoughts into writing. I just wish they wouldn't all be about not being able to write.

On another happier note... God is really doing some awesome things. God is so cool. We (the Youth Alive club) sold about $115 worth of cupcakes... and in just a couple of hours! Saturday was such a blessing.

Got to run now, or I'll have the computer, phone and outings taken away.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Midnight Rant

Oh, tonight is one of those nights.

I'm tired, headachy, hungry, and nauseated. It's 12:17 AM. Everyone is in bed. Since we're still in the process of moving back here into our old house, there's clothes, books, and all sorts of miscellaneous objects strewn about the room.

There are so many things on my mind, but my thoughts are so quick and so vague that it is hard to grasp even one of them. Somewhere within me is a feeling of loneliness. But it's not my loneliness. It's someone else's.

I'm listening to Split Screen Sadness, and though I haven't really paid close attention to the lyrics, the song fills me with a sense of helplessness, loneliness, and a deep frustration.

""All you need is love" is a lie 'cause we had a love but we still said goodbye. Now we’re tired, battered fighters". This line makes my heart ache. So many don't know what true love is. I'm not saying I'm an expert in the area. I'm sixteen, and I know I have a long way to go. But, shouldn't love be something fulfilling? Shouldn't love really be all we need?

I think it is. Love really is all we need. The problem is found in our definition of love. Love is not butterfly-stomachs and chills and breathlesness. Love is not just someone to hold, or to be held by. I think these are just bonuses, little gifts from God.

Love, the real one, the satisfying and fulfilling one, comes from Him only. I think, and I've come to these conclusions from past experience, that it isn't until we let God love us completely, and let ourselves fall in love with Him again and again, day after day, that we will be able to experience a fulfilling, healthy love with another human being.

Loving God opens our eyes to so many things, and helps us to look past the things that don't matter.

When my focus leaves God's love, I begin to feel empty and alone, even while my best friend holds my hand here on earth. I begin to expect him to give me what I am not letting my God give me. I begin to wonder if we're really meant to be together. And that's where the confusion begins. Wasn't love supposed to be fulfilling? Shouldn't I feel complete?

It isn't until I find my place back in God's arms that I realize that, yes, this young man is with whom I'm supposed to be right now. It's not until we're both looking into our God's eyes that I can stand before Him hand in hand and not feel empty and ashamed.


Pardon me for ranting. God is good. I'm tired. I've succeeded in extracting my mind of not even a tenth of its intricate blend of questions and aches and wonderings. But I think that this is all I can do for tonight. Tomorrow will be another day, and will take care of filling up that empty ten percent with new questions and ideas of which maybe I will have time to ramble on about.

Until then, God bless.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

A/C Filters

It's been forever since I last wrote here. Writer's block is definitely a horrible thing. Makes one feel... ha, like an a/c filter that is so packed with junk and about to blow.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Loving Father

Why is it that we hold back from God, even when we can see how badly being away from Him is hurting us? Even when we can see how less painful our lives would be if we only took that first step towards God? I have found myself in this position many times. I stand in between God and the devil, holding sin by the hand. I can either choose to walk on to where sin is leading me, right into the devil's lair, or I can choose to take a step backward towards God, so He can crush my sin's head and redirect my path. Most of the time, I entertain satan for far too long. I'll look down at sin, take in the ghastliness of its sneering face, feel the pain of its claws digging into my hands. It will nod at me, beckoning me to follow it to my destruction, and I, knowing all this full well, will follow after it like a dumb, hungry dog. But only long enough to make satan's wretched mouth water. Then I'll stop, look back at God's loving eyes silently telling me to come back to Him, to not be foolish and do the obviously right thing. So I kick away my sin, tug my hand away from its, and take a couple of baby steps towards my Father, only to have sin back on me, practically chewing off my arm. And I stop. And the pain gets worse. Sin feasts on my flesh, all the while telling me that it'll relent if only I will follow it. And I know this is all a filthy lie! But I follow, nonetheless. And, of course, the pain does not subdue - it only increases in intensity. 'Stop!' I tell myself. 'Stop, you idiot!' But I can't. Not on my own. So I cry out, my spirit torn and bleeding. Oh, Jesus, help me! Rescue me from my sin! And instantly, God is there beside me. He shrouds me in one arm and flings sin away with the other. Whimpering, the filthy thing writhes and withers. God steps out and crushes its evil head under His foot. I bury my face in His mighty chest and sob. I weep myself dry. I tell my God I'm sorry, that I'll never leave again. And He, knowing that I will - not once - but a hundred times again, only nods and holds me tighter. "It's alright. Hush, now, hush. You're alright. I've got you. I've got you..."

[written March 14 -17, 2008]