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| Chemistry is beautiful: equilibriums slipping in and out of themselves. Diamonds look strange in my ears, I suppose because I can't decide if they are something real, or not, and if I am something real, or not, and if we deserve one another. Pure compressed carbon is the hardest material we have discovered, and it sparkles statically. Carbon is one element of 111-120 (depending on the hour), and no one knows why most of them exist. They arrange themselves neatly into periods and groups, creating a very useful table. But most of life is created from only a handful of crafty little building blocks that decided to make the most of what they had to offer. With four carbon atoms, one oxygen atom, one double bond, and sundry hydrogen anklebiters, 23 different compounds can be formed. And all for the just 3 easy payments of $19.95! Their incredible utility is miraculous, seeming to multiply, divide themselves into the needful places in my biology; breathing, typing, crossing my tongue and sticking out my eyes, heart beating, all shouting their mysteries as God's granted life. I am living carbon, not pressed down, but dancing blind to my own worth.
Now if only my skin would agree, and I would live in my skin. | | |
| Looks like Matisyahu, sounds like the beautiful noise of shattered "praise and worship."
There is so much of me wrapped in one song, that which I didn't know I wanted to say. | | |
| I was wrapped up in a wool blanket in summer, peeking out and seeing nothing but what looked like wheat brushing up against the gray skin of the sky. I was right where the tides come in, looking over the low water to the bridge and the fireworks reflected in a place meant for endless going out and coming in. I felt like I was camping, somewhere beyond cell phones, electric fences, before even my own birth, the place I go when I escape this century I have been given. I am blessed with a choice of reverie, but trade it for them never to be real.
If Gideon had an ephod, what do I have? Mulching petunias, I asked myself, what was the most important thing to me? I knew what, for some time, had been what I wanted most in the world: the love of my life. And making a decision can be tricky for me.
But should the thing I want most in the world be something over which I have no control? It makes for good self-pity, but will it make me happy? Why do I feel the one person who is supposed to love me has turned away?
He controls everything but my own decisions, and it may be that I am the one who has turned away, if I think that anyone but Him will be the vision of my happiness. I am not whole, and like everyone on Earth who has walked the history of the tidewaters before me, I have searched in the dirt, in books and study, in family, for the thing that will fill me up. I am waiting for him, but I should be waiting on Him.
Now, if only I knew what all of this means. So back to my petunias, I thought that the one thing that was most important to me was just to be the person that God wanted me to be. Yes, that's it. Whatever that means, of course He wants me to love Him, to want Him, so if I want to be the person He wants me to be, then I will love him.
Not good enough.
What a cop out, such roundabout, back-door obedience. I want, to want to love Him. I wouldn't want anyone to love me because they thought it was what I wanted. Well, it's not my first offense. Try again. If I can't be happy with Him, I will never be happy, my life will be meaningless. But it's difficult to think that the key to your life is always behind your ears, where you can't see.
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| The birds are picking up, gathering, and building. I can’t imagine it is a quick process to find little pieces of hair from my dog and building a home. It looked like they were working together, flying in the same direction. My dog was so happy while my dad got all the hair off of here. She makes the funnies faces, and rubs her face into the grass. It makes me giggle. I just sat in the grass, my dress down to my ankles and watched them together. It was such a lovely evening, it had been raining all week, and today was the first nice day. And what a glory. My friends, the dancing greens, came out to play.
I scrubbed myself, my face, leg, and arm, twice, with special soap to ward off the poison ivy. I liked the clean I felt afterwards, after washing just parts of myself at a time. I felt refreshed, and not like I had wasted any energy. Clean, not boiled, like a hot shower. Grooming is a personal process, and I hope that the paring down I have
done in recent years has mirrored my own personal sense of focus. Sitting in chemistry today, I was pondering on my own heedlessness at times, thinking whether I made good decisions or if I just jumped before looking. I am an RA next year as a result of a decision, and have an internship now, and I think some of my best choices are made a result, not of chewing it to tastelessness, but because I just know it is the right thing. I have peace about such things, because I didn’t have to think.
Anyway, I put up my hair and sit down to my Periodic Table. It is so easy to believe that I will find myself anywhere in the future. | | |
| Lonliness can be inescapable when you are longing for one person who alone can fill you up, and they won't come to you, there is too far a gap.
Lago's Lone Oak is legend around here; it's known all around as the summer ice cream place, and popular meeting spot. My mother and I sat there last night and talked about why I was sad, and why I was lonely, and she gave me the answer I already knew myself to be true. It's why I wear a sterling silver Greek letter around me neck, and it's why I can feel the echos at the center of my heart.
I need Jesus, the Jesus I have seen in my dreams. Lover, friend, lifelong companion. For that am I yearning; the longing that alone walks me now is an unfulfilling substitute. I do not know where to find him, I do not know if my very small voice can reach far enough, if he still, or ever has, listened to me. If he loves me. | | |
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