Saturday, February 16, 2013


For a long time now, I've been trying to be content.
But I guess all that time I wasn't sure what that meant.
Like, being content meant that I had to be smiling all the time.
Like being content meant I had to say everything just right.
Like being content meant being happy, being numb, being saintly.
But that just isn't me.

I'm a saint, I mean, that's what Jesus said, I guess.
But I don't have a peaceful mind when I lay down my head.
My thoughts go a million miles an hour in any direction but rest.
And those never ceasing thoughts, well, they tug at my flesh.
They water all my worries until they start to sprout
They call every last one of my mistakes out like fouls
They flash images from my past to the inside of my eyelids,
 and if that won't work, they just switch tactics until they find one that sticks.

"Who's gonna love you when they know where you've been?"
and just like that, my eyes are open again.
I lay face-up and my heart pounds in my chest,
and I think "There's no way I could ever be content."
Because being content means to be alright, right?
And how can I ever be alright?
I just wanna dig a hole and shove all of me inside
cover it up and forget it.
forget it.
Just forget and be content.

Because being content means to forget right?
It's ignoring the fact that there was ever a fight.
That just seems insane to me!
How could I ever forget suffering?
Maybe that's not what I need,
Maybe its not about everything being right,
Maybe it's seeing there's a tree after the death of the seed.

For a long time now, I've been learning about being content.
Now I'm reaching a time when I'll learn what Jesus meant.
He said "it is finished" and put down his head,
and I think in that moment, he was content.
He swallowed every drop of suffering
but he did it for beautiful things only he knew,
He suffered for the sake of a glory that is all surpassing.
And he asks nothing more of me than to suffer through
and find contentedness in his beauty, and in the things he has for me to do.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Life Inside My Head #1

(Some of these are old reflections, but they mostly relate to what's going on with me now. This isn't a super spiritual post. it's more about my insecurities.)
  • Sometimes I wonder why I write. 
    • This thing has always been secondary to the other stuff I do, but I feel like it gives me the most catharsis from my problems.
    • It's a prayer for me. I communicate with Jesus through this stuff, and I think the inspiration I get comes from the Spirit. I can't stop. It keeps me going.
    • But at the same time (next)
  • Sometimes I wonder if anyone other than God, my family and my church family cares about what I have to say.
    • There is so much pent up in this head of mine, and writing is one of the best ways for me to get it out, but no one ever discusses things with me. I want to know I'm not the only one who thinks like I do, going into the artistry of it and the poetry of a day.
    • I get the feeling people think I'm really really dim or inexperienced and whatever. I hate feeling like people think I'm stupid.
    • I feel like others don't have any faith in me, other than the ones that have to because I am in some way an investment of theirs. Like they have a stake in my success, if I fail they fail.
    • I have a couple people who pour into me that have no stake in my success, and that's so special to me, but more often than not, I'm just there to people.
    • I'm not asking to have people just blindly appreciate my existence, I want to MEAN SOMETHING to someone. Not just romantically, but...
  • Sometimes, I wonder if anyone will find me beautiful in anything but a platonic way.
    • I hate the fact that this bugs me so much.
    • Is there a tinge of Narcissism in this? probably.
    • Yeah, I know the Christian answer to this. "God made you, and you are a precious creation of his." I KNOW. I realize this.
      • is it wrong that sometimes this isn't enough?
      • Does that mean I have less faith in God? No, it's just different.
    • Statistically, I KNOW someone will, eventually. But for right now, at this minute, I need someone to say that I am not beyond hope.
    • Right now, I'm trying not to focus on this as much. I realize my value is not found in romance.
  • Sometimes I wonder if it's okay to think the way I do.
    • Is it okay to be harsh and brutally honest?
    • Would I still be so honest if I knew people would take offense?
  • Sometimes I wonder why I'm so socially incapable
    • I feel like I'm loud and annoying, but at the same time, quiet and I don't contribute anything worthwhile.
    • I feel totally incapable of making friends apart from people who are brought into my life by others or by circumstances.
      •  I WANT that. I want to feel like people want to be around me, not that they have to be.