I read a very amazing and very close to home post by someone I know...and it's very much where I'm at right now. Go read it, and enjoy:
http://outoftheair.wordpress.com/2011/12/03/a-is-good-but-b-is-good-too/
Isn't it amazing how God can bring light into a situation where you understand nothing? I'm at quite a crossroads in my life - I have to choose what comes next, and I'm very unsure of what to do. A person told me that what she believes is that God has set many paths before me, and no matter what I choose, He will bless it. I love that He has done that, but...it makes it harder for me to choose. It's part of becoming an adult, I suppose, but it's still hard. It would indeed be easier if He showed me just one clear path, but again, refer to that post above.
I will simply console myself with the fact that no matter what I do, I will yet have a Savior, and that He won't change his view of me on what I choose. He's teaching me to lose control, and to step into things that I never have before. This season of my life, learning, changing...it's been hard, but it's been good, too. So many things never would have happened but for a silent season of my life - a season of hardship, a season that seems directionless. I'm by no means out of that season, but I want to embrace it with all my heart. In all my uncertainty, it gives me a chance to draw closer to Jesus, and to learn to lean on him.
To all you who know what you're doing - I applaud you. Only don't forget who put that idea or dream in your heart, and the path before you.
~Fumble
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
To Sleep; Perchance to Dream
It's a hard thing, to know that you set yourself up for disappointment, time after time - and to know that you are disappointing. I dream my impossible dreams, and find myself in the midst of the fragrance of crushed hope. You might wonder why I even bother dreaming, and I would have to wonder along with you. There is little hope in dreams - but I cannot forsake what I know my heart to long for. To dream for something is to, for a short moment, have that thing, if only in your mind. So, even if dreaming is only for a moment, I will keep on.
Perhaps you would understand my obsession with dreaming if you knew how much a part of me it was. For a period of time - perhaps a year - I lived to dream. My days were monotonous and long, and my only escape was to dream. So, I would survive the day, and hasten to sleep. At that time in my life, dreaming was better than being aware - because awareness hurts. Awareness reminds us of our faults, hits us in a place that hurts beyond other hurts. I don't desire to be perfect...but to be good? Even at one, small thing, to outshine others? It's a hope that will forever be crushed. Hope is irrational. So is dreaming.
But I won't wake from the dream - even if disappointment is all I find - because to dream...to hope...this is all I know.
"For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently."
~Romans 8:24-25
Yes, hope can be disappointed, time and time again. Hope can grow faint - but it is still hope. So I will continue to aspire to hope, hope to dream, dream to aspire. Why? Because I want to wake up and find that reality is better than my dreams.
~Fumble
Perhaps you would understand my obsession with dreaming if you knew how much a part of me it was. For a period of time - perhaps a year - I lived to dream. My days were monotonous and long, and my only escape was to dream. So, I would survive the day, and hasten to sleep. At that time in my life, dreaming was better than being aware - because awareness hurts. Awareness reminds us of our faults, hits us in a place that hurts beyond other hurts. I don't desire to be perfect...but to be good? Even at one, small thing, to outshine others? It's a hope that will forever be crushed. Hope is irrational. So is dreaming.
But I won't wake from the dream - even if disappointment is all I find - because to dream...to hope...this is all I know.
"For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently."
~Romans 8:24-25
Yes, hope can be disappointed, time and time again. Hope can grow faint - but it is still hope. So I will continue to aspire to hope, hope to dream, dream to aspire. Why? Because I want to wake up and find that reality is better than my dreams.
~Fumble
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Time Enough
Sometimes, it's fun to take life at a fast pace - say 1.5x. But sometimes...it's just a tad much. School is much like living at 1.5x, whereas summer, to me, is more like normal, or 1x. After too much 1x, it's hard to get back into the rhythm of 1.5x, but once you do, it's rather catchy. There lies the problem - had you ever tried listening to something fast, then slowly? It's agony, listening to notes that used to take a mere split second drag on for what seems like hours. If you're used to living quickly, then it's nigh on impossible to slow down to normalcy.
The change is hard, yes...but most often, it's good. When I'm speeding on down the road, enjoying speed, I forget how I love to reach my arm out the window and pretend to fly, or the teasing pull of the air in my hair, whipping it into my eyes and stinging them. I forget how I love to drive slowly along the streets, noting each tree and house, and enjoying how unique each is.
Maybe that's why I love autumn so much...it's a time of change, but it's slow and tangible. It doesn't happen overnight, and yet somehow it creep up on you. I walk my paths, the leaves falling across my way, the wind caressing the same leaves, urging them to let go of all they've ever known, assuring them that the fall is not painful; that they will guide them.
How simple, how pleasurable it would be, to be a falling leaf, crossing the sky, then falling to rest gently and skittishly on the ground, 'til the wind chose to guide me farther, in whirling eddies in the streets, or joined with many others and serving to cushion children as they lay on me. Or, to serve a great honor, and be taken up by a child, and become part of a collection, chosen to show my beauty for years to come.
Ah, yes...when I am moving at 1.5x, I forget what it is to live simply, and to take joy in that existence. I forget how I love God, and the wonders He works upon the world at the change of seasons. I forget the change that He wants to work in my heart, even as the cool wind sweeps in and changes the season.
But He works, and is faithful to complete His work.
"There is a time for everything, and a season for ever activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil - this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere Him." ~Ecclesiastes 3:1-14
There is a time to live in 1.5x, and a time to settle in 1x.
~Fumble
The change is hard, yes...but most often, it's good. When I'm speeding on down the road, enjoying speed, I forget how I love to reach my arm out the window and pretend to fly, or the teasing pull of the air in my hair, whipping it into my eyes and stinging them. I forget how I love to drive slowly along the streets, noting each tree and house, and enjoying how unique each is.
Maybe that's why I love autumn so much...it's a time of change, but it's slow and tangible. It doesn't happen overnight, and yet somehow it creep up on you. I walk my paths, the leaves falling across my way, the wind caressing the same leaves, urging them to let go of all they've ever known, assuring them that the fall is not painful; that they will guide them.
How simple, how pleasurable it would be, to be a falling leaf, crossing the sky, then falling to rest gently and skittishly on the ground, 'til the wind chose to guide me farther, in whirling eddies in the streets, or joined with many others and serving to cushion children as they lay on me. Or, to serve a great honor, and be taken up by a child, and become part of a collection, chosen to show my beauty for years to come.
Ah, yes...when I am moving at 1.5x, I forget what it is to live simply, and to take joy in that existence. I forget how I love God, and the wonders He works upon the world at the change of seasons. I forget the change that He wants to work in my heart, even as the cool wind sweeps in and changes the season.
But He works, and is faithful to complete His work.
"There is a time for everything, and a season for ever activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil - this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere Him." ~Ecclesiastes 3:1-14
There is a time to live in 1.5x, and a time to settle in 1x.
~Fumble
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Remember the Past
Right and wrong. How can what seems to be a simple concept become such a beast to understand? And what if there is no right, and only wrong on either side of the equation? In the Dakota War of 1862, neither side was in the right. Certainly, the Indians committed great savagery, and I'm not justifying it, but consider what was going on between the Europeans and the Indians at that time. Just as there was savagery on the part of the Native Americans, there was also a "refined" savagery - if you can call slowly killing a people through starvation and debt. One way or the other, the whites would have been the death of the Indians - and sooner or later, the Indians would decide that enough was enough and retaliate before another blow could hit them. The impulsiveness of four braves would cause the deaths of hundreds - both white and Indian.
Each side had their reasons; their "right", but you ask me who was right, and who was wrong? There is no answer. There is no gray. History is oft a hard lesson; why? Because we learn that we are not infallible; the human race, whatever skin color, will ultimately fail. We've seen it again and again in history - as it is said: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."(George Santayana) In my words - if you refuse to learn from what has been proven to happen, if you refuse to believe that the heart of humanity is depravity - then you refuse to realize that you will repeat it.
Reaching into a fire will cause pain and burns, but to be so foolish as to reach for it once again?
God is our only hope. Why?
Because He's the only one who can stop our nation from going to Hell - and staying there.
~Fumble
Each side had their reasons; their "right", but you ask me who was right, and who was wrong? There is no answer. There is no gray. History is oft a hard lesson; why? Because we learn that we are not infallible; the human race, whatever skin color, will ultimately fail. We've seen it again and again in history - as it is said: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."(George Santayana) In my words - if you refuse to learn from what has been proven to happen, if you refuse to believe that the heart of humanity is depravity - then you refuse to realize that you will repeat it.
Reaching into a fire will cause pain and burns, but to be so foolish as to reach for it once again?
God is our only hope. Why?
Because He's the only one who can stop our nation from going to Hell - and staying there.
~Fumble
Monday, September 19, 2011
The Last Laugh
Why is it that every time I think I start to understand something, I end up more confused than ever? Is everything in life going to have that extra facet, just around the corner, that stumps me and sends me right back to the beginning? I mean, really, what's the deal? God, couldn't you make anything simple enough for me to understand? But then again...I suppose if I really understood things, I'd take them for granted, and then eventually I would have more losses...but I take things for granted anyway; my friends, my family, church...I even take God for granted. It's so very hard knowing that I am the heart of every problem I have. God has never been the source of my problems; it's always been me trying to excuse my behavior, my thoughts, my inclinations.
Fortunately, He's always there to help me back on my feet, after I cripple myself. Honestly, the human race is so self-destructive...before we can ever get ahead, we hamstring ourselves with our ideals and fancies, when God has a simple, relatively "easy" plan to follow. All He asks is that we cast everything aside and follow Him, and only Him, with nothing between us, or any such. It strikes me that it really should be easy. In fact, it's laughably easy - at least, until I try to do it. But then, in come all the places where I've compromised myself, all the things that I've put higher on my priority list than God...it's a painful realization, that I have so very many things that I "love" more than my Savior.
And yet it's so hard to give them up. Sometimes I feel as if the only way I could ever truly give everything up for Him is if I was at the point of Death, and understanding the regrets I had never understood before, and He brought me back. It seems as if my impossibly hard heart would need a radical change like that. Otherwise, it's too easy to slip back into every habit, every pattern of living I had hoped would have been left behind.
Truly, the only thing between God and myself is, indeed, myself. To die to oneself...it's a hard thing, but necessary. To give up everything and follow Him, daily taking up my cross...I know that the only way that will happen is if God gives me grace to do so. It'll be a choice I have to make eventually.
Either way, God will have the last laugh.
I can only hope I'll be laughing with him.
~Fumble
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Safety
Hopeless.
It's a feeling that's become all too familiar to me...one I live with daily. I try to make things right, but it seems my effort is wasted. Or, rather, it's not wasted, it just causes things to move in the opposite direction.
Ever been in a situation you know you can't get out of? Then you'll know exactly how I feel right now. I feel literally and figuratively trapped. It's not a pleasant feeling...
Hopeless. Helpless.
No matter what I am right now, it's "less". School will start in a few weeks, and I will be able to escape through that, at least a little. And I don't have to agree to anything - the only contact will be the inevitable, and it doesn't have to be that much.
Don't hate me for wanting to back out of this. If friendship is all about being the same and doing the same things and depending so heavily on the other person that if one of you goes down, the other follows, then I refuse to have friendship. If that is how it is "supposed" to be, then I sincerely hate it. I will run away and hide.
Why?
Because I can't deal with it, truthfully. Every attempt drives me further back, cuts me away. There are much better ways to spend sleepless nights. I can't handle it, and I know it full well.
I've had to be very good at hiding. If you're good at hiding, then so-called "relationships" cannot hurt you. You simply don't get close enough for it. It's kept me safe all my life, if a tad lonely.
But I can deal with lonely. I'd much rather have no close relationships if they had to be so close they cause asphyxiation. I can walk my path alone, and never have any regrets.
I can stand loneliness so long as I'm safe.
~Fumble
It's a feeling that's become all too familiar to me...one I live with daily. I try to make things right, but it seems my effort is wasted. Or, rather, it's not wasted, it just causes things to move in the opposite direction.
Ever been in a situation you know you can't get out of? Then you'll know exactly how I feel right now. I feel literally and figuratively trapped. It's not a pleasant feeling...
Hopeless. Helpless.
No matter what I am right now, it's "less". School will start in a few weeks, and I will be able to escape through that, at least a little. And I don't have to agree to anything - the only contact will be the inevitable, and it doesn't have to be that much.
Don't hate me for wanting to back out of this. If friendship is all about being the same and doing the same things and depending so heavily on the other person that if one of you goes down, the other follows, then I refuse to have friendship. If that is how it is "supposed" to be, then I sincerely hate it. I will run away and hide.
Why?
Because I can't deal with it, truthfully. Every attempt drives me further back, cuts me away. There are much better ways to spend sleepless nights. I can't handle it, and I know it full well.
I've had to be very good at hiding. If you're good at hiding, then so-called "relationships" cannot hurt you. You simply don't get close enough for it. It's kept me safe all my life, if a tad lonely.
But I can deal with lonely. I'd much rather have no close relationships if they had to be so close they cause asphyxiation. I can walk my path alone, and never have any regrets.
I can stand loneliness so long as I'm safe.
~Fumble
Saturday, July 9, 2011
The Big Deal
I would hate to think that we do things because we feel bound by some "sense of duty"; that we feel we should do something because we "owe" it to someone. That would be finding the cure for cancer because you had "nothing better to do", not because it would save millions of lives. What is the point in doing something if it is merely some strand of conscience that tells us it's the "right" thing? Why should what we do be determined by something as unfeeling as whether it's "right" or "wrong"? What if what is "wrong" according to society is truly "right" as from God's point of view?
I just can't get past the fact that the only reason we do some things is because we feel some sense of duty to do it, that we owe someone something, therefore we will do something for them. Do something for them, that is, out of a desire to not owe them, to not have some duty to them. Shouldn't we do something for someone without a reason as shallow as that? Should it not be out of love, which is an action, not a feeling? Shouldn't service be done with no higher aim in mind, then to serve someone without something in return? Shouldn't what we give be without attached strings?
How easily I fail at the simplest of tasks. How selfish I am, daily.
What's the big deal?
~Fumble
I just can't get past the fact that the only reason we do some things is because we feel some sense of duty to do it, that we owe someone something, therefore we will do something for them. Do something for them, that is, out of a desire to not owe them, to not have some duty to them. Shouldn't we do something for someone without a reason as shallow as that? Should it not be out of love, which is an action, not a feeling? Shouldn't service be done with no higher aim in mind, then to serve someone without something in return? Shouldn't what we give be without attached strings?
How easily I fail at the simplest of tasks. How selfish I am, daily.
What's the big deal?
~Fumble
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Acceptance
A little hope. Even when the task is a monster, and too large to tackle comfortably, there's a little hope. Even if he's running farther and farther ahead of me, there's hope. Why? Well, I have legs, don't I? When someone runs away from you, what do you do? You chase after them, of course. You might be far ahead, but I'll chase you until I catch you.
After a wonderful weekend of some very close-to-home teachings, I feel as if I understand my heart a little better. Which is good, because it's hard to understand oneself. Do you realize how hard it is, in this god-forsaken culture, for someone to understand and love themselves? An actual love, that is, not some narcissistic vanity and misconception about one's worth. As a girl, I can say that, even though I've been brought up having things a lot of girls haven't had, I can say that there were times I looked in the mirror and absolutely abhorred myself. Now I'm learning to look and appreciate some things...and to love myself the way I was made to be. I'm not "beautiful" per se...I'd be the first to admit it; I'm not a fashion model or anything to be accoladed as such, but I'm not ape-ugly either. I'm not ugly, no, but I'm not astonishingly beautiful; I'm just...me. And it's fine to be just me...I like my eyes, my hair, my face...I'm kind of out of shape, but that's something that I can take care of.
It's important to understand and love yourself.
Why?
Because only then can you understand and love others.
~Fumblebee
After a wonderful weekend of some very close-to-home teachings, I feel as if I understand my heart a little better. Which is good, because it's hard to understand oneself. Do you realize how hard it is, in this god-forsaken culture, for someone to understand and love themselves? An actual love, that is, not some narcissistic vanity and misconception about one's worth. As a girl, I can say that, even though I've been brought up having things a lot of girls haven't had, I can say that there were times I looked in the mirror and absolutely abhorred myself. Now I'm learning to look and appreciate some things...and to love myself the way I was made to be. I'm not "beautiful" per se...I'd be the first to admit it; I'm not a fashion model or anything to be accoladed as such, but I'm not ape-ugly either. I'm not ugly, no, but I'm not astonishingly beautiful; I'm just...me. And it's fine to be just me...I like my eyes, my hair, my face...I'm kind of out of shape, but that's something that I can take care of.
It's important to understand and love yourself.
Why?
Because only then can you understand and love others.
~Fumblebee
Monday, June 6, 2011
Far Away Places
Why do I somehow think that people are interested in my life and my thoughts? I mean, I can't get off saying they don't have value, or I'm some sort of emo-drown-in-my-sadness-worthlessness person...but I can't really say that anyone other than myself, perhaps, sees any value in what I say. That, or the people who are seeing something simply refuse to talk. Ah well...
I've had many, many thoughts lately...there's no way I'll be able to fit all of them in a single blog post, the the point of my having a blog is sharing what I think when I think it's time to share it. I write down notes of what I'm thinking, so if I'm at a loss of what to talk about, I can always pull out my notes and make a post from that.
Funny, isn't it, how life seems to fly by when you're trying your hardest to take things slowly? I really, really want my summer to feel a lot longer, but the problem is, if I try to accomplish things, it'll go even faster, so I'm actually better off not trying...but where's the fun in that? Besides, if I'm not trying, I'd end up working without pay or something. I do enjoy working, but...it depends.
Wow. This is post number eighteen, and it's June. I've been posting for roughly two months, and fairly regularly. I'm proud of myself. Yes, it's only a small thing, but...I've got to be proud of something, no?
Here's a little something I wrote:
My thoughts on some things that have happened to a friend...I'm rather jealous of the place he's at with God, as it's a place I'd like to be, but...I don't completely understand myself yet, and I know it's not for me right now. I still can't help feeling this way, though. Happy, yet longing for something tangible, such as that.
It's not a very comforting emotion, jealousy...and it really isn't worth the guilt it brings.
I guess I still have some habits to break.
~Fumble
I've had many, many thoughts lately...there's no way I'll be able to fit all of them in a single blog post, the the point of my having a blog is sharing what I think when I think it's time to share it. I write down notes of what I'm thinking, so if I'm at a loss of what to talk about, I can always pull out my notes and make a post from that.
Funny, isn't it, how life seems to fly by when you're trying your hardest to take things slowly? I really, really want my summer to feel a lot longer, but the problem is, if I try to accomplish things, it'll go even faster, so I'm actually better off not trying...but where's the fun in that? Besides, if I'm not trying, I'd end up working without pay or something. I do enjoy working, but...it depends.
Wow. This is post number eighteen, and it's June. I've been posting for roughly two months, and fairly regularly. I'm proud of myself. Yes, it's only a small thing, but...I've got to be proud of something, no?
Here's a little something I wrote:
He's at a place I can't match...
Awe. Confusion. Longing. Loneliness. Jealousy...unwilling jealousy...a tad of sadness.
I want that.
No matter what I do, I can't catch up. I look at you and see a place I have yet to come to. It's very uncomfortable, very disconcerting...because I want to be there, to be with you...but it's not going to happen. What I feel, what I think, what I understand...it's not enough. And it never will be.
I feel rather alone. Not an unfamiliar feeling, but not necessarily a "good" one.
Awe. Confusion. Longing. Loneliness. Jealousy...unwilling jealousy...a tad of sadness.
I want that.
No matter what I do, I can't catch up. I look at you and see a place I have yet to come to. It's very uncomfortable, very disconcerting...because I want to be there, to be with you...but it's not going to happen. What I feel, what I think, what I understand...it's not enough. And it never will be.
I feel rather alone. Not an unfamiliar feeling, but not necessarily a "good" one.
My thoughts on some things that have happened to a friend...I'm rather jealous of the place he's at with God, as it's a place I'd like to be, but...I don't completely understand myself yet, and I know it's not for me right now. I still can't help feeling this way, though. Happy, yet longing for something tangible, such as that.
It's not a very comforting emotion, jealousy...and it really isn't worth the guilt it brings.
I guess I still have some habits to break.
~Fumble
Monday, May 30, 2011
Family Ties
For once, I really need someone to talk to. And yet again, I have no one. I try not to unload all my problems onto other people, since they all obviously have their problems as well, but...sometimes it's hard alone. It's easy to be wrong when you're alone...I'm convinced that it's knowing and talking to others that makes us understand what "right" is.
How funny, that it's easier to be sorrowful and melancholy than angry - at least, it is for me. I can be intensely angry for a short time, but all too often, my mind starts showing me all the reasons I shouldn't and can't be angry. I get a taste of what it is to be in the other's shoes, and that dissolves all the anger...and in its place is guilt, plain and simple. After the guilt wears away, all that's left is sadness...the kind that washes in and out like waves, taking away the old melancholy and bringing in something new with every slam of water on shore. I'm a sandbar subjected to this, and it's not too long before I've changed shape, or even disappeared.
Perhaps I should stop trying to be all poetic and simply talk. It's...difficult, though. I don't want to accidentally show people I know what I'm feeling, but there are a few I trust enough to let them see...but very few. My heart is a Swiss safe, and I'm rather reluctant to give out the key. Here's the gist of it, I suppose. I love my family. Perhaps a bit too much, but...family is family after all. Roughly half of my siblings are not walking with the Lord, and it often makes relationships tense. I myself am often the subject of teasing...but I'm not so worried about myself. I really fear for my siblings...I love them, but I absolutely don't know what to do, except pray.
I'm afraid I can't really expand on that. I mean, I could, but I don't really know what to say. I don't really understand the situation myself, but I do know I don't want to see someone I love go through and to Hell.
I'm too emotional, I know...I really am lost on this one. Ah well. Yes, prayer. It'd be nice to know I wasn't alone, though...
~Fumblebee
How funny, that it's easier to be sorrowful and melancholy than angry - at least, it is for me. I can be intensely angry for a short time, but all too often, my mind starts showing me all the reasons I shouldn't and can't be angry. I get a taste of what it is to be in the other's shoes, and that dissolves all the anger...and in its place is guilt, plain and simple. After the guilt wears away, all that's left is sadness...the kind that washes in and out like waves, taking away the old melancholy and bringing in something new with every slam of water on shore. I'm a sandbar subjected to this, and it's not too long before I've changed shape, or even disappeared.
Perhaps I should stop trying to be all poetic and simply talk. It's...difficult, though. I don't want to accidentally show people I know what I'm feeling, but there are a few I trust enough to let them see...but very few. My heart is a Swiss safe, and I'm rather reluctant to give out the key. Here's the gist of it, I suppose. I love my family. Perhaps a bit too much, but...family is family after all. Roughly half of my siblings are not walking with the Lord, and it often makes relationships tense. I myself am often the subject of teasing...but I'm not so worried about myself. I really fear for my siblings...I love them, but I absolutely don't know what to do, except pray.
I'm afraid I can't really expand on that. I mean, I could, but I don't really know what to say. I don't really understand the situation myself, but I do know I don't want to see someone I love go through and to Hell.
I'm too emotional, I know...I really am lost on this one. Ah well. Yes, prayer. It'd be nice to know I wasn't alone, though...
~Fumblebee
At What Price?
A poem I wrote for Memorial Day. Inspired partially by Langston Hughes' "Refugee in America" poem. Untitled as of yet. Dedicated to all soldiers and all those who love them and America.
There are words like "freedom"
I do not understand,
Nor will I ever know
Until for them I fight.
There are men called "soldiers"
Who daily risk their lives
To protect this "freedom"
That you and I enjoy.
There are souls called "saints",
Solders loved and passed,
Watching freedom fade
And men losing love
For...
This country, bought with blood and tears;
This precious land of "freedom";
They forget about our men
Fighting in a foreign land.
I still know not what "freedom" is,
But soldiers and saints are teaching
What it is to love my country
And sacrifice my all for it -
America the Beautiful;
Land of the Free, Home of the Brave;
Land that I love, my birthplace, and,
The land for which many saints died.
I do not understand,
Nor will I ever know
Until for them I fight.
There are men called "soldiers"
Who daily risk their lives
To protect this "freedom"
That you and I enjoy.
There are souls called "saints",
Solders loved and passed,
Watching freedom fade
And men losing love
For...
This country, bought with blood and tears;
This precious land of "freedom";
They forget about our men
Fighting in a foreign land.
I still know not what "freedom" is,
But soldiers and saints are teaching
What it is to love my country
And sacrifice my all for it -
America the Beautiful;
Land of the Free, Home of the Brave;
Land that I love, my birthplace, and,
The land for which many saints died.
To all out there, no matter what you're doing, don't forget - freedom comes at a price.
~Fumblebee
~Fumblebee
Friday, May 27, 2011
Melancholy Memories and Fading Footprints
It's funny, how one of the most beautiful days can seem grey and cold when you're alone...and even if that loneliness isn't absolute. Sometimes you can imagine you're the only one in the entire world, because your entire world is merely the area around you that you can see and hear and feel...
Looking back through papers, stirring up old memories with the dust...remembering what your world once was and who was included in it. Dear friends, beloved family now long gone...relationships that gradually faded away...knowing that you allowed it to happen. It's not a guilty feeling, not completely, but there's definitely a feeling of loss. It's hard to remember what could have been and wondering where you'd be today if it had continued. Ah, sorrowful regrets.
How funny, to look back and recall all that you fumbled through, and laugh at your own mistakes. How amazing, to look at who you once were, and see how far you've come, how much you've changed - and whether it's for the better or not.
It's hard, knowing you've never visit those times again. They're over for good, and nothing will change that. I guess all we can do is keep moving forward and making new memories...because there's really nothing else to do. To stay at one point of time forever is to be obsessed, and wrongfully so. I don't want to be stuck in one place. I know there are people waiting for me. I'll never know who they are if I don't keep plowing on through the mud of life. Maybe they'll need me as much as I'll need them.
It's nice to be needed...and even better to be wanted and loved.
So I'll remember, perhaps in a melancholy way, but with a bit of hope for the future, as well. I will always be fond of remembrance, and I'll always love those people, even if they are gone...but even as memories fade, love will find a way to grow...and I'll keep walking until my footprints cross with his.
Then we can continue into the horizon, the waves washing clean the tracks behind us...walking side by side until the world I know now can no longer see us and is left with a memory...
...Just a memory of love.
~An Overcast-y Sort of Fumblebee
Looking back through papers, stirring up old memories with the dust...remembering what your world once was and who was included in it. Dear friends, beloved family now long gone...relationships that gradually faded away...knowing that you allowed it to happen. It's not a guilty feeling, not completely, but there's definitely a feeling of loss. It's hard to remember what could have been and wondering where you'd be today if it had continued. Ah, sorrowful regrets.
How funny, to look back and recall all that you fumbled through, and laugh at your own mistakes. How amazing, to look at who you once were, and see how far you've come, how much you've changed - and whether it's for the better or not.
It's hard, knowing you've never visit those times again. They're over for good, and nothing will change that. I guess all we can do is keep moving forward and making new memories...because there's really nothing else to do. To stay at one point of time forever is to be obsessed, and wrongfully so. I don't want to be stuck in one place. I know there are people waiting for me. I'll never know who they are if I don't keep plowing on through the mud of life. Maybe they'll need me as much as I'll need them.
It's nice to be needed...and even better to be wanted and loved.
So I'll remember, perhaps in a melancholy way, but with a bit of hope for the future, as well. I will always be fond of remembrance, and I'll always love those people, even if they are gone...but even as memories fade, love will find a way to grow...and I'll keep walking until my footprints cross with his.
Then we can continue into the horizon, the waves washing clean the tracks behind us...walking side by side until the world I know now can no longer see us and is left with a memory...
...Just a memory of love.
~An Overcast-y Sort of Fumblebee
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Peer Pressure
I've considered putting up some of my actual writing up, and couldn't decide...but I've decided now to share at least some of it. Here's something I wrote roughly 6-7 months ago, while sitting in the UCSC. It's a little odd, I suppose, but it was very enjoyable to write.
Feedback would be greatly appreciated. =)
~Fumblebee
Peer Pressure
Glancing around, the tension of the moment heating your face up, you hope no one will witness this. Or, if they do, maybe they'll pretend it didn't happen, that they didn't hear it. That is the worst part, you think, knowing that someone might choose to hear, and not being able to comprehend what they might do. Truly, this is a terrifying task you have set up for yourself.
Okay. You flex your fingers while telling yourself, "Who cares?" Alright, fine, you do...but they couldn't know that, could they? You can feel the smooth ring, with the jagged edges you know are tucked underneath. Only an idiot could cut themselves on something like this. An idiot, or someone who doesn't care like you care. A cut could only make things worse than they will be already.
Steeling yourself once more, you gently pry the ring up a fraction, then scoot your thumb underneath it, carefully. You're not an idiot, but you don't want to take chances, either. Then, slowly, ever so sluggishly, you put pressure on the aluminum ring, bearing up with your thumb while holding the ring in place with your index finger.
A creaking, groaning noise escapes the ring, and you pause for a moment, wondering if people were already listening. The worst is still yet to come. The disturbing thing is knowing that if you did it quickly, no one would truly notice, or if they did, they would know that you are strong, and unafraid of what they could do to you, and therefore they would keep their silence. You could beat them that way, you suppose, but...somehow, you can't. You're not that strong, not that confident. Oh, curse your shyness, your fear of man, that this should be such a terrifying quest!
Still you press on, now pulling the ring rather than raising it. The beast will be here any moment, ready to tear you apart. A final rasp echoes from the metal, and then, finally, terribly, a gunshot fills the air.
Almost as in the garden, when even the angels fell silent to watch what man and woman would choose, there is a stillness in the air. No one moves, no one dares breathe. Not even you. God Above, save you from the silence, from the beast who is waiting just behind you.
After an infinity of angels holding their breath, you dare to flick your eyes to the side. No one has looked up from their appointed tasks, no one has chosen to hear you. To the right is a firmly painted wall, with shades of the Holy Spirit added by meandering pencils. Ah, the calm of stone is a blessing, and you dare to touch it, if only with one finger.
The beast still lurks, but you've moved on to brighter corners. The ring is terrifying no more, and the threat of a paused, listening ear has been vanquished. The crisis is over, the new day begun.
And best yet, you can drink a toast to the empty room, and God who waits within, toasting you in return.
Feedback would be greatly appreciated. =)
~Fumblebee
Monday, May 23, 2011
Blame
Why is it that when someone hurts us, we think, "They'll be sorry if I die today," or similar things? Why are we always at fault? And why is self-injury always our response? Certainly, the people who hurt us would sorrow if some injury would come to us, but why should we need to hurt ourselves in the first place? Hurt is so easily received, especially when it was the thing least intended. Again, the problem of having a tender heart - it's far too easily hurt, too emotional, too prone to react in the extreme.
I just wonder why we blame ourselves immediately, especially when there is nothing to be blamed for. I suppose it's that it's easier to blame oneself than accept that the other person is in the wrong. After all, who wants to always go around pointing out other's faults? Not I, at least. No, it's much safer to be alone in one's misery, and to be content with keeping the blame to oneself. That way, you don't have to risk being injured more deeply through arguing over blame.
I am not a very loud person, or at least not inside. Certainly, I have an energetic, never-shuts-up front, but that is merely a deterrent so no one will look any deeper. When you appear shallow, that is what people accept as "you". Inside, however, I hate to cause problems, and so try my best to be peaceful. If that includes taking the blame for things completely beyond my control, so be it. So long as everyone else is happy.
I am not unhappy about this - resigned, certainly, but not unhappy. It's not always bad, taking the blame...if only a tad lonely. I'll gladly apologize and repent if it'll save someone else. After all, not everyone is as well acquainted with loneliness and sorrow as myself.
~Fumblebee
I just wonder why we blame ourselves immediately, especially when there is nothing to be blamed for. I suppose it's that it's easier to blame oneself than accept that the other person is in the wrong. After all, who wants to always go around pointing out other's faults? Not I, at least. No, it's much safer to be alone in one's misery, and to be content with keeping the blame to oneself. That way, you don't have to risk being injured more deeply through arguing over blame.
I am not a very loud person, or at least not inside. Certainly, I have an energetic, never-shuts-up front, but that is merely a deterrent so no one will look any deeper. When you appear shallow, that is what people accept as "you". Inside, however, I hate to cause problems, and so try my best to be peaceful. If that includes taking the blame for things completely beyond my control, so be it. So long as everyone else is happy.
I am not unhappy about this - resigned, certainly, but not unhappy. It's not always bad, taking the blame...if only a tad lonely. I'll gladly apologize and repent if it'll save someone else. After all, not everyone is as well acquainted with loneliness and sorrow as myself.
~Fumblebee
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Careworn
How can you relate to someone who is going through a depth of pain you will never understand? And when they don't want you to relate in the first place? How can you just stand there and watch that person slowly suffocate in their prison of glass? Why, oh why, must they stare at you with such eyes, asking you to take their pain away, when there is absolutely nothing you can do? Certainly, you can be there for them, and hold them, but other than that, there is nothing.
And when you have everything that they've lost, how can they ever trust you again? Whenever you are with them, you carefully censor everything you say and do, because it's not worth the pain caused. You refuse to hug your dad, just because your friend doesn't have a dad anymore, or theirs have left. You can't understand their heartache, so you try to make it impossible to remind them. And, somewhere in all the confusion and silence, you realize that you've lost sight of their hearts, and they are too far gone to bother baring it to you again. That mutual love is much diminished...and you wonder why you're still there. Every time they need a shoulder to cry on, you're still there, but somehow you can't cry with them anymore.
What's wrong with you? How can you possibly be so heartless?
Well...maybe my heart is tired of caring...you could say it's a tad careworn at the moment. It's run out of tears to cry; it's a limp rag. Give it some time...and hopefully it'll come around.
'Cause with your heart out, you've lost the round.
~Fumblebee
And when you have everything that they've lost, how can they ever trust you again? Whenever you are with them, you carefully censor everything you say and do, because it's not worth the pain caused. You refuse to hug your dad, just because your friend doesn't have a dad anymore, or theirs have left. You can't understand their heartache, so you try to make it impossible to remind them. And, somewhere in all the confusion and silence, you realize that you've lost sight of their hearts, and they are too far gone to bother baring it to you again. That mutual love is much diminished...and you wonder why you're still there. Every time they need a shoulder to cry on, you're still there, but somehow you can't cry with them anymore.
What's wrong with you? How can you possibly be so heartless?
Well...maybe my heart is tired of caring...you could say it's a tad careworn at the moment. It's run out of tears to cry; it's a limp rag. Give it some time...and hopefully it'll come around.
'Cause with your heart out, you've lost the round.
~Fumblebee
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