fear

I'm afraid of myself. I woke up this morning at 5am thinking about how afraid of myself I am. I'm afraid of my emotions, which sometimes seem to have a mind of their own. And I'm afraid of my mind which seems to lift off and go places without me as well. I'm afraid of overthinking things and of not thinking through them enough. I'm afraid that I'm an incredibly selfish person with incredibly selfish motives towards some of my friendships (does that make them selfships?). I'm afraid of being stuck with myself forever and not having a significant other to share myself with. I'm afraid that when/if that day does in fact come, I'm going to have a very hard time sharing because I'm so used to being with only me. I'm afraid that I'm not nearly as cool as people perceive me as. Or maybe they don't perceive me as cool at all, and I just think they do because I want them to. But regardless, I'm not that cool. I'm a makeshift hand-me-down painting created from years of summer camp, dancing in a studio, heartbreaks, insecurties, anger at injustices, moments of true Trust in Jesus, having very few friends in high school, learning the art of solo sports, disappointments, and rejoicements. I am exactly where I am and who I am now because of this winding, uncertain path that I've been walking on. Good gosh, I am afraid of myself. I'm mostly afraid in these moments where I feel the need to be brutally honest with myself and I desperately don't want to.

lacing up with lewis

I feel that I'm always armed and slaying wayward thoughts and actions in this constant battle with discontentment and high expectations for my life. Everyone says it's good to have high expectations; to hold onto those and don't settle, whatever you do. I wholeheartedly agree-- in fact, I've probably mouthed and proclaimed the very same words to some dear friends of mine who were so obviously in dumb relationships with dumb boys or girls. But sometimes it's not that obvious. Sometimes the heart, itself, settles in a space that it doesn't belong. Sometimes my mind settles in a space that it doesn't belong too. And it makes me feel uncomfortable. I itch for freedom, but I'm having a hard time recognizing what are the shackles gripping around my ankles and arms. 

I have built up high walls and then I'm telling myself that I have to climb them in order to be anything or get anywhere. I have created a troubled soul within myself. 

And now I'm becoming aware of it, and I cannot maintain this image.

The truth is, is Jesus Christ is my Savior. He's unhatched the locks that I put on my own shackles made of my own craftsmanship. He's said, "No, I won't let you do that to yourself; here, let me set you free. You are free indeed." And instead of leaping for joy at it all, I just sit there in this open prison cell with unlocked metal hanging on me, waiting for something else to come save the day. 

Everything about my life reflects the Gospel of Jesus; my messing up, his saving me, his constant redemption for me, welcoming me home, lifting me up, bringing me favor, opportunity, loving on me, instilling creativity in me. He is good good good, over and over again.

I think a part of my frustrations stem from the humanness that I feel through gravity, through the world's corruptions, war, strife, politics-- that it's not supposed to be this way. We were created for more. I was created for more. We belong to another world, but in this world we've been saved. In this world that I live in right now, I have been saved from its captivity. And hallelujah to that! The book of Hebrews is all about reminding Christians about who Jesus is, why he's so worthy to worship and follow. I'm going to start reading through it and studying it so that I can be reminded too, so that I can start proclaiming "hallelujah" and really mean it again.

please & thank you.

Sitting sipping coffee (at Please & Thank You Coffee), post-Crossfit, post-shower, pre-study. My hands are jittery.
 
Oh, I just realized that when I asked for a double-shot americano, that means that they actually put four shots of espresso in this cup total. That explains why my heart is about to jump out of my skin and I can feel its pulse in my elbow-pit and calfs.

I don't want to study.

I want to jump up and down and travel and make new friends!

Deep breath.

Lord, I pray for focus. Please.
And that I can study well for my pilates and massage exams.
I also pray that I can actually pass these exams the first time around so I don't have to study for them ever again and I can move on with real life because I'm really tired of being a student.
Thank you.
I'm thankful for you, Jesus.

Man, church was awesome yesterday.
Hallelujah!

untitled

I'm feeling something and I don't know quite what it is.
A bit of a restlessness, some would say.
However, I am also at peace, given that it is the holidays and all-- I have a reason for my doing-nothingness.

But I don't want to do nothing. I want to do something remarkable, something to be proud of.

I want to wander through woods, paint on trees, then paint on my skin, and maybe even on a canvas.
I want the people I love to know that I love them, and I want to be able to know that there are myriads of people that I truly do love.

I love my family. I really like them too. I have been truly blessed with the loveliest home in their hearts. So, moving back into the same house as mom and dad has been wonderful. It's refreshing and I feel at rest. They try to give me space, and I respect theirs as well. But there's something about being at this age that makes me want to jump ship sometimes. I wish that I was stable enough, financially, to move into my own place. I would invite over all of my cool twenty-something friends, we would talk about Jesus over beers and hot cocoas, and I would have Christmas lights strung throughout my quaint space. I would be a yoga-teaching-massage-therapist and I would wear lipstick and it would be great. Unfortunately, I'm not there yet. Fortunately, I'm not there yet. That's not where I'm supposed to be, otherwise I'd be there already. Where I'm at is okay.

It's all just swell and I need to learn how to appreciate this time in its fullness. My little fingers need to hold hands with it, firmly, like I mean it. I'll never have a time like this in my life ever again-- I'm unemployed, living with mom and dad, I don't have to pay for anything, I can go to yoga pilates crossfit etc, I get to play with my adorable nephew, I live in a huge lovely house with two beautiful pups, I live near some friends still, Kentucky is a mystery, and this is all great. Buck up and buck wild, girl. This is a good life.