By the yard it's hard, by the inch, what a cinch

When I was a child, I was in Patch the Pirate Club, as well as had a couple Patch the Pirate cassettes. Simply put, Patch the Pirate is a MAJOR NAME in Children's Christian Music, especially in the fundamentalist Christian sect. Patch aims to teach values, not only of faith, but also of morals and character. I actually know songs about loving broccoli and cleaning my plate, about not being a wiggle worm, and many other things that really call for another blog entry. But there are a few songs that have stuck out with me, so here is the first I'm going to write about. I may write others, I may not.




"When mountains tower ragged and high,
rise to the challenge, look to the sky
Trust in the Lord, and start to climb,
Reach for the goal one step at a time

Little by little, inch by inch
By the yard it's hard, by the inch what a cinch
Never stare up the stairs but step up the steps
Little by little, inch by inch."

I think this is a powerful message and absolutely profound in a simple children's song. When I think of mental illness recovery, be it from depression, an eating disorder, bipolar, borderline personality disorder, self injury... when I think of recovery, so often it IS a mountain towering, ragged and high. It's overwhelming when we first look at it. But when we step back and take it little by little, inch by inch, it's so much easier. Recovery doesn't happen overnight. I don't know how much longer I'll be in treatment. Months? Years? It's unknown at this point in recovery. But I do know I take it little by little.

If it means when my eating disorder is in full force, and all I eat for the day is a sandwich and drink some tea, that's little by little. Each day, I can add a bit more food, be it a side, be it another sandwich if sandwiches are my current "safe" food, etc. If my depression is in full force and I don't want to leave the apartment, much less my bed, I can take it little by little. Be it just getting up, taking a shower, and getting dressed. I don't necessarily have to go DO anything, but taking the step to get up is a progress. And that's the thing - progress is a process. It's something we do little by little, inch by inch.

I think that it's important to know that recovery happens. It's possible. But sometimes, it's overwhelming. Sometimes I feel like finding the right medication combination is never going to happen. Sometimes I feel like therapy is going nowhere, sometimes I feel like progress is being made, sometimes I feel like I'm backsliding and for each step I've taken, I've gone back twelve.

But that's not the point. The point is I'm trying. The point is I'm living. The point is that every time I make a good life choice, however small, however insignificant it seems at the time, it's a step toward recovery, even if it's just an inch, even if it's not even quite an inch yet.

The point is I'm moving. The point is I'm getting there. The point is, little by little, I'm working my way towards there. I'm "reaching for the goal, one step at a time." And by taking lots of little steps, maybe one day, I'll overcome. And yes, I'll reach that goal one step at a time.

I learned it bywatching you.

Tim Hawkins summed up this song with "My son got mad 'cause I worked all the time, he grew up to me a jerk just like me. And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, and some other poetic stuff."

John Mayer sang "Fathers, be good to your daughters. Daughters will love like you do." A powerful PSA from 1980's is "I Learned It By Watching You"



The thing is, children learn from their parents, if they want to admit it or not. Ultimately, in the end, we have the choice to act on what we learned and what we were taught, but it doesn't mean that it lessens the imprint on us.

There was never a time my father was without a bear can in one hand. His breath always smelled like beer, usually Milwaukee's Best. He'd sit in front of the computer, with his bag of potato chips and his beer can, watching the telly.

I learned so much from watching him. I learned how to be a good girl. I learned how to act on and to lead people on into thinking everything is fine. I learned how to play the game that makes people think that life is fine and I learned how to throw up walls. I won't even go into what I learned from my mother.

And then it scares me -
what will I teach my children?

Every lament is a love song

My dad's dad died in 1975.
My Grandma Dixie (dad's mom) died when I was eight.
My Pawpaw (Mom's dad) died when I was nineteen.
My Mawmaw (Mom's mom) died when I was twenty-three.
There was my great uncle, my great aunt, etc, etc, you get the picture. I've been to more funerals than weddings in my lifetime.

I've had various friends die over the years. Most were ones I used to be close to but then fell out of touch with. One I used to be close to, then we had a fight and never made up. Others, I just got busy and selfish with life and we just didn't talk anymore. And it sucks. I have various memorials set up in my room to various people: a stuffed pee cup for Nick (LONG STORY), the teddy bears Rachel sent me long ago, my grandpa's beanie baby lady bug, the list goes on.

Hell, I just don't grieve well, I don't think. I stuff and I stuff and I stuff and I stuff. My puppy (Pirate wasn't even a year old when he died) died 10 years ago and I still haven't fully processed it.) But my biggest fear is that I am going to die young. I'm plagued by health problems. What if I die young? What if I leave friends behind asking the same questions I am asking now? What if it isn't my health that takes me, but a car accident? Something else? Will I leave behind a legacy?

I just can't help but wonder these things. I'm terrified of dying.

Mrs. Tanner: Sweetie, I'm seventy-four years old, I'm ready to go.
J.D.: Yeah, but with dialysis, you could live another...eighty or ninety years.
Mrs. Tanner: I think you're being a little irrational.
J.D.: No I'm not.
Mrs. Tanner: Everybody dies sometime.
J.D.: No they don't.


***

Dr. Cox: (In mock crying voice) But what about our duty as doctors? (Back to normal voice) Look. This is not about Mrs. Tanner's dialysis, this is about you. You're scared of death, and you can't be; you're in medicine for chrissakes. Sooner or later, you're going to realize that everything we do around here, everything is a stall. We're just trying to keep the game going, that's all. But, ultimately, it always ends up the same way.


***

I'm terrified of death, which is odd considering I was hospitalized in 2006 due to being suicidal and in a crisis home for the same reason in 2009. But I'm terrified of death. It scares me senseless. and that's just... I don't even know. I'm out of words to describe how it makes me feel. But I know that my health is falling apart. I know I'm not a healthy 24 year old.

And it breaks my heart that one day, likely while I'm still young, my friends will be wrestling with the same gut-wrenching questions that I wrestle with.

Every lament is a love song,
yesterday, yesterday,
I still can't believe you're gone...

Because a thankful heart is a happy heart

"I give thanks for this day, for the sun in the sky!"

It's Thanksgiving 2011. As I sit in northern Minnesota watching The Big Bang Theory wearing pajamas and mismatched socks and a mug of Nutcracker Sweet tea, I realize that I have so much to be thankful for.

I am thankful for funny TV shows, such as The Big Bang Theory, Scrubs, and How I Met Your Mother. They allow me to laugh and just enjoy things.

I am thankful for friends. Friends are family, too. I am thankful for friends that make sure I am no alone on holidays and that send me random texts throughout the day. I am thankful for random facebook wall posts, random emails, et al.

I am thankful to be alive. After the epic medication fail right after back surgery, after being diagnosed with an eating disorder, after medical test after test, I am grateful to be alive. Even though days are difficult and things like fibromaliga suck, at least my doctors are trying are to give me answers.

I'm thankful for video games! They are fun to play and give me an escape from life. And they let my mind wander and explore things.

I am thankful for gluten free food and that companies are getting better and making gluten free food.

I am thankful for comfy clothes.

I am thankful for my honey dew shampoo that makes me smell awesome.

I am thankful for the Tea Gardens! Mmm, bubble tea.

I am thankful for going to a school where there are disability coordinators who work with me and don't belittle me.

I am also really thankful for a break from school. I was approaching a nervous breakdown and about to totally fall apart from stress. Which would be bad. I don't think exploding and randomly falling apart is generally advised. I am still stressed to high heaven but hopefully the break will give me a chance to breathe.

I like writing out this thankful blog post! ^_^

Now she's left cleaning up the mess he made

I still haven't forgotten that autumn day, ten years ago. November 28, 2001. It's kind of hard to believe. I was depressed. And by depressed I mean really freaking depressed. I was fourteen years old. And I had a plan to end my life.

I likely would have gone through with it, had a friend not intervened and notified the police. Had the police not shown up at my small Christian school. I'm told I'm lucky I wasn't taken into custody or admitted to the hospital.

But even more important was that was the day I realized my dad didn't care. I was fourteen years old, depressed, and realized where my dad's priorities were. My school principal had called my church youth pastor, and my youth pastor informed my father. Less than a couple days later, my father no longer cared that I had had a plan to end my life. He was back to his old self.

This is part of why I struggle to view God as a father. Logic tells me that not all fathers are like that. I KNOW good fathers. I KNOW good, Christian fathers and I know good, atheist fathers. I know there are good Jewish fathers, there are good agnostic fathers, it goes on and on and on. But the fact of the matter is I can't wrap my mind around the concept that the father God is like is nothing like the father I had. Someone who was never there when I needed him. Someone who always had beer in the fridge, but not always a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread.

It gets harder and harder this time of year. Well-meaning people ask if I'm going home for the holidays, and I never know how to answer. I shrug it off, but it still hurts. The ache still lies inside. I have a place to go for the holidays, but gosh, it's not the same.

and I don't know where I'm going with this. :P



Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left, cleaning up the mess he made

Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

If only in my dreams

I'm dreaming tonight of a place that I love
Even more than I usually do
And although I know it's a long road back
I promise you
I'll be home for Christmas,
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree
Christmas eve will find me,
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
Listen to Josh Groban sing I'll Be Home for Christmas!

I know I'm not in a war zone. I know I have a place to go for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. But it doesn't replace the ache that lives in my heart. It doesn't replace the loneliness. And I miss the Christmases of my childhood which will never exist again, because both my grandparents are dead. Mawmaw will have been gone one year come Thursday, Paw's been gone for five years now. Christmas just hasn't been the same since Christmas 2005 - my first one without a father and my last one with my Paw.

I don't remember many Christmases before the divorce. They split the summer between first and second grade. I remember getting my tape (as in cassette, yo. Old skool!) deck for a present one year and headphones with it, only to discover it had a microphone jack, not a tape deck.

After the split, it was pretty simple. I'd spend Christmas Eve with my father, then he'd drop me off at the grandparent's for Christmas day, and then I'd go to my mom's for the evening. Some may call it chaotic, but it was what I was used to and all I really knew. And there'd be fun stocking stuffers and good food and presents and FAMILY. But all that is but a distant memory. I don't have it anymore.

I spent Christmas 2006 and New Years 2007 in the Psych Ward. To put it simply, it sucked. Don't ask me what happened on Christmas 2007. I think we went to Maw's after everyone else had left and spent the rest of the day in the new apartment. '08, '09, and '10 I've spent with friends, and will again for '11. Don't get me wrong - I am blessed and grateful to have friends who open up their hearts and home and treat me as one of the family. It's a blessing beyond measure.

But it doesn't heal the ache.
And I'm still homesick for something that doesn't even exist anymore, and I'm not sure every truly did exist.

Halloween, Reformation, and Independence

I find it interesting that my Independence Day falls on Reformation Day. I don't expect all my readers to know the details about it, but here are the basics:

Once upon a time in a land far away, there was a dude named Luther. His teachings radically reformed Christianity, and even formed a denomination (called, you guessed it, Lutheranism! Wow, y'all are a smart lot!). Luther, more or less, decided enough was enough and nailed the 95 Theses to the door of the Schlosskirche, a castle church in Wittenberg in 1517. This sparked the Reformation. That's a very barebones version, and likely not the most historically accurate. I'm not a profound theologian.

It's certainly interesting. This day is also Halloween - grim grinning ghosts, candy, trick or treat, and more. Halloween was banned when I was a kid because, you see, Jesus wouldn't go door to door begging for candy. Clearly.

But when I think of 31.10, my brain goes back to a different place. 31.10.2005. I was 18 years old, and a senior in high school. A few days later I got the rest of my possessions out of my father's apartment, but that was it. It's hard to believe I've been away from him for six years. It's hard to believe where I was when I was 18. I was still cutting at the time. I was deep in depression (understandably! I had faced things that no one ever should, and made decisions that some adults never have to make). My father later sent me emails chastising me for my decisions.

It gets more complicated because this anniversary also marks the shattering of my faith. Up until this point, I was pretty confident in my faith. But when I went to the church for help and assistance with a difficult, painful choice, and was turned away, my heart broke. When they helped him (note: he needed help, he NEEDS help so badly. But he didn't get what he needed and it breaks my heart. I still want nothing more for him to get the help he needs) instead of helping me and literally turned me away, then I got angry and bitter.

This is a song I remember hearing on Christian radio a far amount those days:

She fools all of her friends into thinking she's so strong,
but she still sleeps with the light on
and she acts like it's alright on
As she smiles again
And her mother lies there sick with cancer
And her friends don't understand her
She's a question without answers
Who feels like falling apart
And she knows, she's so much more than worthless
She needs to find a purpose
She wonders what she did to deserve this
And she's calling out to you
This is a call, this is a call out...
This Is A Call - Thousand Foot Krutch

I think this song sums up that time frame well. Replace mother with "grandfather" (who died the summer after I graduated high school) and there you have it.

I don't know anymore. I sometimes wonder if I'll ever recover from what my father did to me. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. Maybe I will and it will always shape a part of my personality.

But sometimes, oh sometimes, I wish when my insomnia is rampant I could pick up my phone and cry to my Daddy. I wish that I could find a friend to get in a car with and drive home, knock on the door, and shock him by showing up randomly. Oh, how I wish beyond wishing that I had a Daddy. But I NEVER had a Daddy - I had a father. And at times, since I don't speak to either parent, I feel orphaned. It makes for some really awkward moments in class some times. For example: "How did your parents parent you when you were five?" Cue instant panic attack from me trying to avoid thinking about it. We had to do a family survey in adol. psych and thank GOD the prof bailed me out when she took one look at my face and could tell it was distressing me.

Gosh. As much as people say it's boring to be normal, trust me, this is one place where I'd love to be normal. Trust me.

I sit here locked inside my head

All your insults and your curses
Make me feel like I'm not a person
And I feel like I am nothing
But you made me, so do something
'Cause I'm fucked up because you are
Need attention, attention you couldn't give
I sit here locked inside my head
Remembering everything you said
This silence gets us nowhere, gets us nowhere way too fast
Staind - For You

How long before you screw it up?
And how many times do I have to tell you to hurry up?
With everything I've done for you,
the least you can you do is keep quiet
Be a good girl,
you gotta try a little harder
That simply wasn't good enough
to make us proud
Alanis Morissette - Perfect

Mommy, don't you love me?
Then why do you hurt me?
Daddy, don't you love me?
Then why did you hit me?
Well I tried to make you proud,
but for crying out loud
Just give me the chance to hide away
Exhaustion takes over,
won't this someday be over?
Jars of Clay - He

I can't stop obsessing over the fact the anniversary is coming. I can't stop thinking about it. I want to stop thinking about it, but my stupid brain won't turn off. I want to be free from this crap.

I just want to be free.

Love in any language, not so spoken here.

I find myself struggling with love. It's such a simple concept, really, but at the same time it's so complex and layered. It's seemingly simple, but also complicated and painful. There are so many Bible verses that speak of love:

"Perfect love casts out all fear. We love because He first loved us." 1 John 4:18-19
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not post, it is not proud. blah blah blah" 1 Cor.

And so many more. The Beatles sang that "All you need is love." We need love at the core of our being, it's something we all long and crave for.

But the thing is? Love scares the everliving shit out of me. Imagine being a child, and your father never telling you he loved you. Imagine being a child, and the hands that were supposed to love you wound up hurting you. Imagine it. (This is also why I cannot view God as a father and cannot grasp that theological concept, but that is another blog entry all together).

People who know me know I struggle to tell my friends I love them. Sure, I show it in many ways: I send them small gifts, I send them cards, I write out Bible verses on note cards to encourage them, and so on, and so forth. But to actually say the words "I love you" is SO DIFFICULT.

And I think that is where some of my God struggles come into play: I can't grasp the fact that He loves me so. I can't grasp the fact that I am loved by Him. And it's not that I don't want to be Loved by Him, it's that I don't fully understand fatherly love. At all. Again, the father rant is for another blogpost (likely on 31.10, considering that's my independence day)

Love is so much - and something I crave so deeply. Something my soul yearns for, something my spirit desires.

But I don't understand it,
and it scares me to death.

and wonder how He could love me, a sinner condemned unclean

"Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, "Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree"—" (Gal 3:13)

I know I, at least, don't fully realize the impact of what Christ did. I mean yes, I was taught as a kid that Chris died for my sins. But the church I grew up in (an Arminian church) did not really lay this out. When we are taught the Apostle's creed, the line "he descended into hell" is omitted, and so I don't know that the full ramifications of Christ's sacrifice are felt. I mean, the Crucifixion is clearly taught, as even stated in a very popular hymn in the Nazarene church: "He took my sins and my sorrows, and He made them His very own. He bore my burden to Calvary, where he suffered and died all alone." And so, even though so much is taught, I don't think we fully realize that he became a CURSE - and that by that, he took the curse AWAY from us. HE became the curse, and by rising up from the dead and coming over the dead, he takes that curse AWAY.

and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come. (1 Thess, 1:10)

I am irrationally afraid of angry people. If someone even raises their voice in frustration, not even anger, I start trembling. If I even think I've made someone remotely angry, I start apologizing profusely. So... the thought that Jesus delivers us from wrath is comforting, because it is something that shakes me to the core so very much.


Author comments:
I love being able to tie things to hymns, and relate the way I was brought up to the what I'm learning now. It's fun!

a king, a priest, a lover.

"Imagery of Christ as a king is often exciting to Christians, and rightly so. We belong to a great and glorious king, who has made us His own." (Mueller, page 143)
"King of my heart, I crown you now. I fall at your feet, and before you I bow." I think that this is something we think a lot: we know that Christ is our King. But I agree with the fact that it says that this is sometimes viewed as a future. Christ is our king yesterday, today, and forever. He will stay our king!

"Our saviour is Christ, the annointed one, the prophet. He sreves us as our great high preiest who offeres himself as the greatest and final sacafrice for the sins of the world." (Mueller, page 143)
Ths verse in Hebrews is one of my favs. He is our priest - who makes the sacafrice and who loves us deeply.

Author reflections:
Christ is not only a king, but a great high priest. He loves us deeply, and cares for us beyond measure. What a priceless gift!

god help the outcasts

Yes, I know I'm just an outcast
I shouldn't speak to You
Still I seek Your face and wonder
Weren't you once an outcast too?

I'm struggling. I feel like an outcast - such an outcast. I don't fit the cookie cutter mold I feel it cut out for Christians. I'm "rough around the edges", sarcastic, and cynical. I don't know what exactly I believe about God, and I don't even know why I'm going into ministry. Maybe it's because I want to right the wrongs. Maybe it's because I want to prove to people you don't have to be perfect to be a Christian.

But Lord, I feel like an outcast. A crippled, limping, orphaned outcast. And the thing is?

I ask for nothing, I can get by
But I know so many less lucky than I

I have no reason to whine. No reason to complain.
So many more have it worse. I just want to help people.
To make a difference.
To help people not harbor bitterness like I have, because it's an awful way to live.

An elephant never forgets

I like elephants. That's a bit of an understatement, I love elephants. I also love monkeys, but that's for another post. Well, I'm wearing a monkey t-shirt but the picture angle kind of hides it.

Elephants. An elephant never forgets, they say. A Nora never forgets, either. It in some ways a cool quality I have, I remember when my friends mention wanting something badly, and I try to make it happen for presents. I remember old nicknames and inside jokes. But at the same time, I remember old hurts, old aches, old pains. I don't forget easy, and it's hard because so many things I'd just rather forget. I'd rather forget how much pain I've been through and I'd rather forget where I've been. But forgetting the bad and remembering the good would hardly do me any good. It would only cause further pain.

But oh how I dream.
How I wish that I could just let go of all these things that have hurt me. And only remember the good.

"You can go on living as long as your heart believes,
although the scars of yesterday remain,
let's stay together always."

The scars will remain, both physical and emotional. The scars won't fade, but it doesn't mean I can't go on living and hoping and wishing and dreaming.

at the cross you beckon me

Descent into hell: is it humiliation or exaltation? Why would you say so?

Can't it be both? It's exalation, because as the words of the worship song "In Christ Alone": "For every sin on Him was laid, here in the death of Christ I live." If he took the sins, then he therefore has to take the punishment, which is eternal damnation. If he decended into hell, then we can see the qualities of exalation: he rose over it, he reigns over it, and hell now has no power over us because he is exalted above it for he went to it, and came back. Howver, if the other includes his death, burial, and suffering, it also intertwines with that, because clearly there was suffering in hell!

The classical Christian teaching about Jesus Christ as fully human and fully divine is confessed in the creeds and councils of the early church.
This is cool. I think we often (to use Christian-ese terms) get trapped in issues of dogma versus doctrine when talking about anything related to Jesus. And we collide on such things and get into verbal fistfights about who is right and who is wrong theologically. But in almost every single Christian cirlce, this is one universial truth. And so, it's cool to see how this one crucal thing goes all the way back and was even agreed on and acknowleded then.

Author Comments:
I like things that make me use vocab, such as the exalation versus humilation, but the English major still runs deep in me even though I switched to psych and ministry. I like how many classic Christian teachings aren't just tied to one particular church, but are more universial Christain truths.

Cause you're my little girl...

"We should fear and love God that we may not despise nor anger our parents and masters, but give them honor, serve, obey, and hold them in love and esteem." (SC - The Fourth Commandment)

I have long grappled with this. I don't know how to honour my parents. Without going into explicit details, I have no contact with either one of my parents. It's not because I'm a bad daughter, but I was professionally and legally advised to sever ties. I was not honured by them, instead, I was badly hurt by them. And so, I've been trying to figuring out what honoring and obeying them looks like. I understand that it can't be the traditional view of looking at honouring them, because it's not feasible for me to have contact nor a relationship. But what does honouring them look like? I still love them for I don't hate them, despite the wrong they did. I still protect them the best I can, and try to respect them. I also know that the Bible says this in a couple places:

And, you fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. (Eph 6:4, KJV)

Fathers, do not exasperate your children, so that they will not lose heart. (Col 3:21, NASB)

It's frustrating, because I'm trying to find the balance. What do I do? Do I still honour God by not associating with my parents? What does that look like? I long to honour and respect my parents, for I know it's a commandment. But my physical safety has to be secure, my emotional health deserves to thrive. And finding the balance is beyond difficult.

(Sorta unrelated, but this is bringing to mind the Harry Chapin song "Cat's In The Cradle" And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me, he'd grown up just like me. My boy was just like me. And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon, when you coming home, son, I don't know when, but you know we'll have a good time then, yeah, you know we'll have a good time then. It reminds me of how parents treat their children turns out to be how they treat them when they get older. And how do I find the balance between honouring God and keeping myself sane? I think this is the one thing, hands down, that is my biggest struggle with Christianity).

So will we verily, on our part, also heartily forgive and also readily do good to those who sin against us. (SC, The Lord's Prayer, The Fifth Petition)

This, I think, ties in well with my struggles with my parents, yes. I realize that I need to forgive them, and have started the process of forgiving them. To do good with them, I know I need to honour them. It all comes full circle.

Author comments:

Heh. The more I go through these blog posts, the more I realize my beefs with Christianity. And, of the same accord, the more I want to fix them and use my story of brokenness to bring people back to Him.

And my wounds will be made whole

"Some of you were once like that. But you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God." 1 Cor 6:11 (NLT)

Cleansed, holy, made right. I think it's something we all long for, in some way or another. Even, I think, the most non religious, non spiritual person out there longs to be made right in some way, shape, or form. Perhaps not in the way that a Christian longs, but I think it's a longing within all of us. We long for things to be "right". I know, for me, I long for things to be right: I long to have a family instead of fending for myself and building my own out of friends. I long to not have to poor over ever food label making sure there's not something in it that my body will read as poison and make me incredibly ill. Of course, this isn't quite the "making right" that is being referred to here, but it helps me to put things in real word terms, so maybe it will help others. However, God will make us right in other ways. Maybe not now, and it's a continuing process, but as we call upon His precious name, he cleanses us (Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe. Sin had left a crismon stain, He washed it white as snow) and makes us new. He makes us right in His eyes, our faults and all.

And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. John 10:16 (ESV)

You know, the whole one church concept has always been hard for me to grasp. I've been around in churches. I was raised Nazarene. When my parents split, I went to a Methodist church, then an independent Baptist church, then back to Methodist with my mother, and another Nazarene church with my father. By high school, my mom was back in the Methodist church and my Father was at a Church of Christ. After my faith was completely shattered in the church due to a tragic, unfortunate experience, I pulled away from the church. I've been around the block since then with different church experiences and different sets of doctrine, and so the fact that they all intermingle together into one church in God's eyes is hard to grasp. I don't think it's bad, per se, that it's hard to grasp, but I do think what we go though in life impacts how we grasp and read the Bible. I do think it's cool, though, that despite all my struggles in the church, it's all one body, one flesh, one blood of Believers.

And so we know God's word applies to our life today, and God has a lot to say in His book...
(Author Comments)

Um, excuse my brief Veggietales moment. God loves His church, and views it is one. It's one of those things I know, logically, and have been taught for years. But applying it and realizing that "Hey, we ARE one body of believers, despite our differences" is another kettle of fish. And it's also cool to reiterate how God cleanses each of us!

ready to smile, and love life

Here she stands today, in her brilliant shining way
Stronger than her pain, in her brilliant shining way

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I know what it's like to have crippling depression.
I know what it's like to be consumed with hopeless.
I know what it's like to be drenched in pain, both physical and emotional.
And for the first time, I'm starting to see the other side.
I'm starting to reach out of the abyss.
I'm starting to spread my wings and leap -
leap into hope, leap into the future,
leap into a new life.
I'm a dreamer, a starry-eyed girl, passionate
I love and I live and I laugh and I learn
And I'm more than my disabilites.
I'm more than a list of medications,
a ball of symtoms,
and rattled off disorders.

I am more than an abused child,
rather, I am survivor.
I am more than a victim,
I am an overcomer.
I am more than a child with questions -
Questions about faith and life and love
and God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit
and creation and forgiveness and
sin and the past and the present and
the future
but rather, I am a seeker
Trying to place the pieces of the puzzle together,
trying to finish the row of Tetris.

I am learning to live...
and it's a beautiful ride.

this robe of flesh, i'll drop and rise to seize the everlasting prize

"He forgives daily and richly all sins to me and all believers, and at the last day will raise up me and all the dead, and will give to me and to all believers in Christ everlasting life." (SC)

He forgives daily. All sins. To me, this is baffling (not in a "I don't quite understand it" way, but more in a "say what?!" way). I struggle to forgive. I don't hold grunges easily and for the most part, but there are some things that happened to me when I was little that I still haven't forgiven people for. And to myself, I am the hardest critic. I remember one time, crying to a friend, about how God could not possibly forgive me for what I'd done. All I remember is this friend saying "Angelique, who are you to deem what God can and cannot forgive?" And I think that is how I started wrestling with the concept of forgiveness. Quoting myself feels weird, but I look at a poem I wrote in 2010 which has this line: (he has scars just like ours) [maybe some day I'll post that poem on this blog because it really shows a great deal of my faith struggles]. But he has scars, too. And those scars are the reason he can forgive, whereas mine are the reason I need forgiveness.

God forgives daily. He forgives not only me, but all believers. The believers that, in the past, have hurt me and I struggled to forgive. And in turn, He forgives me for not forgiving. And finally, on the last day he will raise up from the dead and will give to all in Christ, everlasting life. What struck me was the realization: we won't need forgiving anymore on that day. He is forgiving us daily until then, molding us until we are in the state where we will no longer need it.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th'eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th'eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.


"But of Christ we could know nothing either, unless it had been revealed by the Holy Ghost. " (LC, number 65).

We know nothing, unless it's revealed. Allow me to repeat that: we know nothing unless it's revealed. We may think we're great theologians, we may think we're great Biblical scholars. But the thing is? We really, in reality, know nothing unless it's revealed. I struggle with this because I'm the kind of person who has to KNOW things before I do anything. But the thing is, the Christian faith isn't like that. You can't really know before you take the plunge, you just have to take the dive in and trust that God will be the life jacket to keep you afloat. You just have to go with what you do already know, and have faith and confidence in Christ that He will, in His divine timing, continue to reveal things to you to enrich your faith and deepen your trust in Him and Him alone.

Author comments:
Forgiveness is a strange concept. To think that what we have done can be washed away by the Almighty. That he can forgive, and continues to forgive. And that he, in his wisdom, chooses to forgive AND reveal to us.

Pretty cool!

All things bright and beautiful, the Lord God made them all

All creatures of our God and king!
Lift up your voice and with us sing!
O praise Him, Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
thou silver moon with softer gleam
O praise Him, O praise him
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

This weeks theme is "Creating", and so using lyrics from this hymn seems fitting - for the lord God DID make them all. And so, it seems to fit well with the basic themes we are going with here - God created all, the creatures, nature, etc (at least, that's what I was taught way back in nursery school)

From Colossians 1: 15-17 (HCSB)

He is the image of the invisible God,

the firstborn over all creation;

¹⁶ because by Him everything was created,

in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible,

whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—

all things have been created through Him and for Him.

¹⁷ He is before all things, and by Him all things hold together.

He is creation, and He created all. He created what we see - the lush green grass, the shining sun, the clear blue sky. The dog with the wagging tail, and the child's laughter. But he also created what we don't see - the internal structures of our being, our souls,, emotions, hope, love, joy, peace... it all streams back to Him. And He was before them, and He is the duct tape that holds it all together.

2 Cor 5:17 (HCSB) ¹⁷ Therefore if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; old things have passed away, and look, new things have come.

God not only DID create, but He continues to create. He is creating more and more every day . Within His people, He is molding and shaping us to become better and better creations. And as the old things fade into dust, He uses the new to mold us and shape us into better creations. Creation isn't just what we see when we look outside - it's not just the freshly fallen blanket of snow, nor is it the brightly coloured leaves that flutter to the ground. But when people "convert" to Christianity, He continues to mold, create, and work towards the state of perfection.


Author Comments:
I feel like this blog was very half-hearted. First, I have no profound thoughts on Creation. I've been taught since I was a child that God created everything, and so this is nothing new to me. Really, what is there to say about creation that hasn't been said? It's hard, though, because even though I KNOW it, do I really believe it? Do I really "Praise God from whom all blessings all flow, Praise Him all creatures hear below! Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost" like the doxology says? I mean, if He created everything, then He created all those blessings. He created all those creatures, and the Heavenly hosts. But as I've said before, knowing and believing are two different things. At times I feel that I'm frozen, and that I'm waiting for a thaw. I know all these things, or I've heard them somewhere along the line, but applying them to my life and fully BELIEVING them is a new, scary concept. And I have to wonder... am I ready to make the plunge out into that unknown? I know what it's like to KNOW, but I don't fully know what it's like to BELIEVE.

I've known sorrow, I have known pain.

How ironic. Part of what I'm currently struggling with in Christianity, is right here in front of me. Aye yi yi. I had this convo with my friend Nick a few times. We both suffered from extreme physical ailments, and both lived in constant pain. Nick was one of the strongest Christians I was ever blessed to know. I wish we hadn't had those fights last summer, and I wish he hadn't died this summer. Because I would love to make up, I would love to discuss this stuff with him. But one song he introduced me to (and was also at his funeral) was a song by Chris Tomlin: "And I will rise when He calls my name, no more sorrow, no more pain."

Carry forth on to Luther!

" I believe that God has made me and all creatures; that He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my limbs, my reason, and all my senses," (SC, Article 1).

Honestly? I take issue with this. Quite a bit of issue, actually. Fine. God created me. But he created me faulty. When I complained about this as a child, I was told "God don't make junk" and that "all things work together for His glory". All fine and good and well, I suppose. But when I suffer from so many ailments, I can't help but wonder if I somehow got overlooked. I think this is the one aspect of Christianity I struggle with the most. God created me, my limbs, eyes, etc. And these things don't work right and as each day goes on, fall more and more apart. And it's a struggle, because there's so much pain in it. I hope that one day I can grow to accept it, and that I can find God in the midst of my pain. But right now? I cannot.

"For here we see how the Father has given Himself to us, together with all creatures, and has most richly provided for us in this life, besides that He has overwhelmed us with unspeakable, eternal treasures by His Son and the Holy Ghost, as we shall hear." (LC, Article 1, num 24)

I suppose this blog post isn't very uplifting. I try to have one uplifting part, but I'm sick and struggling right now, so it's just not there. I struggle with the fact that "God has provided" when I struggle to make ends meet. When I make my small amount of money I get a month get all the things I need: food, bills, medicine, laundry, etc. I know that at the end of the day all my needs are met, but the stress that goes through making sure they are all is difficult. And even though I know there are eternal treasures in store, I still struggle to believe.

Heh. Slightly depressing post this time, but I guess it happens at times. Such is life.

Author Reflections:
Kinda odd how I keep looping back to the subject of struggling with how God made me. Guess he's trying to teach me something, eh? Guess this is something I need to learn. Guess it's something that's really hitting me lately. That's okay. Maybe I'll learn and accept it, or maybe it's something I'll always struggle with. I think it's perfectly okay to not always have the answers as much as we may want them.