untitled.

So powerful is the ocean that I cannot stand with my feet at the threshold and think for one minute that life is within my control.

At the alluring, inspiring, terrifying edge of this sea of possibility,

I am humbled.

With every wave that charges the shore, I understand a little more that I cannot influence the movement of the water;

her mission is prevailing.

Releasing myself to her will, trusting she won't let me drown, letting go of every fear of the unknown, I let her take me.

Then finally the peace and beauty of the ocean consume me,

and I am free.

not a verbal processor.

I have had so much on my mind lately that I sometimes don't know what to do with myself. I sometimes (or often) find myself pacing around my house and eating unhealthy snacks and biting my fingernails.

Sometimes I have so many muddled thoughts on my mind that the whole "blog as outlet" idea completely overwhelms me. I guess I succumb to the pressure of wanting a perfectly eloquent and insightful blog post (who am I kidding?). So the online expression of heart hasn't really been happening lately, but believe me, the old school pen-and-paper journal has been getting an ear-full.

Before we get any farther, I just have to put something out there: I am not a verbal processor.

I think about things.

A lot.

To even say that is an underestimation of the thing completely.

If not distracted by something else (a conversation, a project, music, television, sometimes a book), my mind will constantly turn over with thoughts and feelings and confusion over life and it's many angles. Some time ago I coined the term "mental torment of the introspective" and it has never left me. (The phrase, as well as the torment.)

You see, I have this problem of trying to think myself into clarity. How I came to believe this ridiculous phenomenon to be attainable is beyond me. I have failed more times than I could count, but still I try.

Prayer helps.

So once the fog has cleared a little, and I have something resembling a linear train of thought, I write.

I have come to many revelations through writing--God speaks to me through writing, especially when I have many things on my mind (as I do now). Needless to say, the last two weeks of journaling sessions have been quite revealing.

God is stirring something up, and it's big. I can feel it.

It is exciting and it is painful.

Sometimes God is so subtle--a quiet whisper in the midst of unending channels of distraction. But other times I feel like God is right up in my face, and though I feel like a weakling by saying so, it makes me really uncomfortable.

I can so clearly imagine Jesus standing in front of me, looking straight into my eyes with a deep, penetrating gaze, sternly asking, "Will you trust me? Right now, no grasping at straws, will you trust me?"

"But I don't know all of the answers," I contest.

"Trust me."

"I don't know where you're taking me."

"Trust me."

"I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

"Trust me."


Lord, I pray that I will always say "yes" to you. In everything, no matter how big or small, let me be quick to obey you. In this and in everything, make me to rely on you--to not worry about the details or fear my own inadequacy.

Help me to trust.

going to the ocean.

I am nervous. I can tell because my fingernails are painfully short. I am fidgety and distracted by everything. My mind is running down eight different roads, making headway on not a single one of them due to the the seven others simultaneously pulling me back.

I think that I might be losing my mind. Again.

What is so odd about it, I guess, is that I recall thinking not too long ago that my life had strangely--somehow--settled in this place of unusual consistency and normalcy. Joke's on me then if I thought that was going to be a lasting state of being. It seems that ever since then certain areas of my life have come crashing down, yet again.

Losing control is funny. Why do I feel I need control so badly in the first place? What is it I hope to gain by "being in control" of my life? Stability? Happiness?

I suppose deep down I must think that to have control is to have peace--that in order to get along with life it must have to it a certain order in which I manipulate the variables to fit together according to my ideas of how life should be--and I crave peace, all the time.

But perhaps what I should crave is--not the things to be found in God--but God himself.

I accomplish nothing but to completely disgrace the cross with my asking God to bless my life with his sweet gifts of joy and fulfillment while continuing to go about my life according to my own guidelines, doing what I please, forgetting to pray, relying on my own strength and wisdom (if you can call it that), thinking that I can get along just fine, just as I've managed to do so far.

It is taking me a long time to realize that the gifts of God have to be unlocked in my life through the transformation of my heart, which can only be done by God, at the time of His choosing. Control will not fix it. Peace will not magically appear once I reach a certain point of getting all of my business together.

Why can't I seem to understand that the point is to be in the source (God)? The blessings are not the goal. They happen--in fact, they're promised--but they are not to be the objects of desire.

So what is standing in the way?

I am going to the ocean tomorrow. It always has a powerful way of reminding me that God is big and I never really had as much control as I thought I did. Even if only for a breath of really fresh air (perspective), it will be worth it.

new phase of life, new blog.

i've had a blog for a long time. i don't know how long exactly--long enough to have captured the significant life changes and random revelations of the majority of my college years. but having not posted anything in what must be almost two years now, i find it difficult to imagine going back to the same old page and picking up where i left off. so much of life has changed. so much of me has changed.

so rather than explain all of that, i'm just going to start fresh, and perhaps all the little revelations--all of the gradual changes that have made for one very different individual--all of the tiny little tidbits of the past two years, will somehow filter through.

sometimes a fresh start really is the best thing. sometimes.