Monday, April 30, 2012

Flying Purple People Eater

I have to confess something. I have this alter ego....she comes out about twice a year right around finals time. She's not a friend either, she's a monster rampaging and ravaging all contentedness in lieu of satiating a hunger to complain.

Let's just say, she's baaaaaaaack. I try so hard to fight this, but after 3 years in college, I've just come to find out that this is a big ole' ugly part of me. A part I'm trying to actively repent of. And this is the horrible other side of it, I am the queen of the self-imposed guilt trip. Regardless of whether others are burdened by my selfishness, I recognize it, I know it's there, I berate myself for it, and the flying purple people eater grows.

I guess I'm still riding the learning curve when it comes to knowing myself. I know and I see this cycle, but seeing doesn't change me. These are the seasons when I am so grateful to sit back and rest in the fact that despite my selfish, conceited heart that would doesn't want to fight through the next three weeks, God doesn't leave me here to stew in my guilt.

Years ago I remember lying in my mother's bed with her stroking my hair, softly telling me to repeat after her:

For I am convinced, that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation can separate us from the love of Jesus Christ our Lord. (Rmns 8:38-39)

And she brings it back up years later, telling me to lean into it. Reminding me that I'm not yet convinced of it. That I still allow myself to think I've screwed up so badly that I'm pushed a little farther out from Love, and worst of all, that I can separate myself from the Christ. So I repeat it to myself. And I start over, allowing myself to remember that I get to reap the benefit of new mercy. 

But it is so effing hard. I just can't say that eloquently. But hardness doesn't give me the right or permission to stop trying, to stop remembering, and to stop resting. Remembering is what brings me back, it's what sustains. Remembering coddles me here again to see with clear eyes that these are the moments when Brooke Fraser rings loudly in my head singing "as I wait for You maybe I'm made more faithful." 

I may be ugly to people, but I'm asking to be conscientious enough to change. I may be guilt-ridden, but I am becoming more convinced. 

Three weeks. I can make it. I will make it. 

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


Tonight's one of those nights I just so deeply enjoy. Had dinner with my cousin, got our Coldstone on for dessert, and swung by Starbucks for the drive home.

But on the drive home I was reminded. Although I like sunrises, and enjoy blissful afternoons in the sun, the most compelling time of day for me is the twilight. I swoon over silhouettes of blackened trees against the embers of the days sky being swallowed by the black quilt of night. This, this time is when I stare. And it's then that I am reminded of my sister writing of beauty being the things that draw us in.

To be drawn in elates me. It's peaceful to linger in the beckoning of beautiful things; to let the weight of bigness, smallness, vibrancy, normalcy, chaos, simplicity seep into our being and leave me a little more hopeful than before. I lean into this truth, this peace that settles deep, because it is here that I am paying attention. Not just to beauty, but to the Beauty-giver. I love this time of day because it speaks to the vastness of who God is I get a taste of that "perfect peace".

And is that not why He created the Earth initially? To allow us to experience harmony, harmony that we lost so long ago due to our ability to exaggerate and choose ourselves over divinity. But He's good like that, He leaves us tastes, glimpses of that which we hope for.

I'm finding that the more I'm choosing to pay attention, the more I see. Eyes opened to a vaster reality than which I have been living. A reality in which I see my depravity deeply and His goodness even deeper, and the chasm between the two closing slowly through my repentance and asking. I just keep finding that I can't do this for myself. I'm a messy person with self-protectiveness written all over me, but He's changing that. He's causing me to not see less of my ugly, but to see that the ugly does turn beautiful, like One Thousand Gifts said. That all things are grace because all things can transfigure. The ugly can't turn itself beautiful because ugly is the absence of beauty.

I watch the sun tuck away, leave the silhouettes dancing for a moment, only to soon follow underneath the black covers. And for a moment I stare, reminded to not miss it. To stop missing moments because of myself.

Sunday, April 15, 2012


I have a new nickname. Beans. Holla at me playas.

No, I am not joking. For two months I worked with two people for a major project (50% of our final grade major--YIKES), and in this time they dubbed me Beans.

I'm not telling you this for no reason. I was "gifted" with this nickname for my love of coffee....okay, and the Even Stevens reference causes the three of us to snort laugh. Over on The Anderson Crew she copied the idea of writing the things she could tell one over a cup of coffee. Hence the relevance of Beans...get it? So if we were sitting over a cup of coffee in my thrift store mugs, this is probably what you'd get out of me...

I am not blogging with selfless intention. I'm avoiding studying for a test in a class I hate. So thank you for being my outlet tonight.

I have this new job, and I really like it, it makes me feel productive. I like feeling as if I am going somewhere and that these years in college have been towards something.

Bethie came to town this weekend. I got to watch her with my momma and it was a ballin good time. I love me some Beth Moore.

In about a month and a half I get to move back in with my favorite roommate in an amazing little apartment that God just kinda dropped in our laps. It was written in big fat capitals in my graces journal.

Exercising is NOT my favorite thing. At. All. But I'm trying to get better. Anyone out there here me when I say that self-motivation is SO HARD?? The only thing that makes it remotely okay is that is when I allow myself to watch Saved By The Bell. I've made it through two episodes so far. Told ya I hate it.

Redeemer had a phenomenal sermon this morning about legalism. Brother was speaking to my heart. Listen to it. I'm not playing. Go. For those of you who don't listen to me (RUDE) the gist was this: when we create rules that aren't given to us, it just festers into pride. Rules about dress, faith, tats, chew, etc. Dude, thinking that through is rough. I am one heckova proud girl but over the past year I've been changing. It hasn't been self-inflicted or even noticed mostly, but those rules have been getting ousted, and if not completely ousted, at least evident. God's just been shifting my eyes to see things, giving me a mindfulness of the self-ness of me and the Absoluteness of Him and how I have to keep coming back to my need of Him. When I do that He compels in me things that aren't my norm.

This time of year is my favorite. I love the weather, I love sun, fresh air, and fruit. The greatest of these is fruit. I could eat it all day every day if gross things wouldn't happen, and it was cheaper.

So that's what y'all are getting from me tonight, Bethie, Saved By The Bell, and fruit.