For my psychology class, we have a couple assignments the prof calls "ramblings." The instructions for these are as follows: give me something that describes yourself. We asked her how long it should be. She told us that that was up to us; last year she was given a plastic bag with cheese in it from one person and a shoe from another. I have a collage of songs and quotes and my thoughts with a picture on the back. It's a little something like this...
'Cause I am a whore I do confess/ But I put you on just like a wedding dress/ And I run down the aisle/ I'm a prodigal with no way home/ but I put you on like a ring of gold/ and I run down the aisle/ I run down the aisle to you. (Derek Webb)
Did you ever notice that the sky is all the way to the ground? We're walking around in it. We're in the sky. There is sky and there is ground and we're somewhere in between. That is where we live. And sometimes some of us take wing and when they do, when their feet leave the ground, even for a second, they pull the rest of us with them. And when we rise, and when we rise, and when we notice that the sky has been around us all along. We have been walking into it. It has been this constant collision. Divinity and depravity. And we rise and we rise and we rise and we rise and we rise and we rise.... (David Crowder)
[lyrics to "I repent" by Derek Webb, quote about living in the questions (R.M. Rilke), Crowder's quote about praise--but I posted those in earlier posts]
Where there is pain, let us bring grace.
Where there is suffering, bring serenity.
For those afraid, let us be brave.
Where there is miser, let us bring relief.
Let us be the remedy. (Crowder)
I just spoke silence with the seeker next to me/ She had a heart with hesitant, halting speech/
That turned to mine and asked belligerently/ What do I live for?/ I see the scars of searches everywhere I go/ From hearts to wars to literature to radio/ There's a question like a shame no one will show/ What do I live for?/ We are Hosea's wife/ We are squandering this life/ Using people like ladders and words like knives./ If we have eyes to see/ If we have ears to hear/ To find it in our hearts and mouths the word that saves is near/ Shed that shallow skin/ Come and live again/ Leave all you were before/ To believe is to begin./ There is truth in little corners of our lives/ There are hints of it in songs and children's eyes/ It's familiar like an ancient lullaby/ What do I live for?/ We are more than dust/ That means something/ That means something/ We are more than just blood and emotions, inklings and notions, atoms and oceans./ We are Hosea's wife/ We are squandering this life/ Using bodies like money and truth like lies./ To believe is to begin.... (Brooke Fraser)
I went to Honduras last semester.
there is so much meaning in that sentence, but unless it is true for you, "I went to Honduras last semester," seems like a simple, straight-forward statement. When I say or write, "I went to Honduras las semester," I say it with both pain and fondness. It was a time of deep hurt, lonely days, lonelier nights, situations that I never expected and never wanted and pray I never have again. Most of the time, these things cloud my view of the good--both here and there.
Honduras changed me. Not a 180 degree shift, it was more of a refinement--out with the bad and in with more good. I see life, humanity, poverty, Christianity in a new light. And as I see now, I live accordingly, differently. And as I readjust, I'm learning to stand up for myself and to be honest instead of responding as they expect. This is healing. And I find hope. After a very hopeless semester, I have learned to lean on others and hold on to their hope until I can find my own. And this is good.
And after the storm/ I run and run as the rains come/ And I look up, I look up/ On my knees and our of luck/ I look up.
Night has always pushed up day/ You must know life to see decay/ But I won't rot, I won't rot/Not this mind and not this heart/ I won't rot.
And I took you by the hand/ and we stood tall/ And remembered our own land/What we lived for.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears/ And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears/ Get over your hill and see what you find there/ With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And now I cling to what I knew/ I saw exactly what was true/ but oh no more/ That's why I hold/ That's why I hold with all I have/ That's why I hold.
I will die alone and be left there/ Well I guess I'll just go home/ Oh God knows where/ Because death is just so full and mine so small/ Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears/ And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears/ Get over your hill and see what you find there/ With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears/ And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears/ Get over your hill and see what you find there/ With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair. (Mumford & Sons)
