unmasked beggars
Saturday afternoon I sat at my kitchen table, silently reviewing the last week and all the ups and downs of every day that sometimes seem like the mountains crashing into the valleys. I wrote a lot, here's a bit:
"Rachel told me it wouldn't be easy. I can feel so okay for a long time and then it all just gets to be too much again. It scares me, because I want to be able to handle life. The "mess" that life is. I not only want to be able to manage it, but be able to help Brad and Daniel make it, too. Instead I sit here, my blood pounding in my veins and my brain, wearing me down and wearing me out. I am so deeply disappointed in people. I should not be, I know I should not be. But I am."
Then I spent hours and hours talking and sipping martinis with someone I have always wanted to know deeply, but didn't think I ever could. You know how sometimes you just sit back and go, "Woah... how is it that you're here going through your thing and I'm here going through my thing... and we're in it together?" These things are not accidents. Quiet, lazy days just spent in living a few hours of life together are so good. Everything changes when a person looks you in the face and is real. I love it, it's like magic. It's scary magic, the kind that can change your whole world. But I love it just the same.
Have I said I am looking forward to Florida this weekend? I am, oh, am I ever. I have every intention of doing a whole lot of nothing at all except breathing in and out, swimming, laying in bed, and eating sushi. I am so excited:)
One can only live for so long stifling a part of themselves. Something's got to give and it inevitably will.
Back to the thing of masks coming off and people being real: I think the greatest betrayal is when a fellow human being either turns their back on your vulnerability or uses it as a weapon against you.
My brother asked me tonight about my impending tattoo. I told him it will be at attempt to make an image out of the following words. Thank you, great band. I wish you were still around, Normals. I miss you. Thanks for leaving me such great music.
We are gathered in cathedrals on a Sunday
We are shrouded in our pride and lust's despair
We have heard that You said to go to where your hearts once were
Trusting we'd arrive to find You there
We have known the empty senses of a funeral
We are haunted by the promises of death
We have asked to see Your face and noticed nothing
But a well-timed, honest smile from a friend
Oh we of little faith,
Oh You of stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of God's door
We have grown cold to the kisses of our lovers
We have rolled the windows up and driven through
The forests of the autumn,
The innocence of snow,
The metaphor of Jesus in the dew.
We have known the heated passion of the cold night,
We have sold ourselves to everything we hate.
We're hypocrites and politicians running from a fight
We've cheated on a very jealous mate.
Oh we of little faith,
Oh You stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of God's door
We have known the pain of loving in a dying world
And our lies have made us angry at the truth.
But Cinderella's slipper fits us perfectly
And somehow were made royalty with You,
Oh we of little faith,
Oh You of stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of God's door
And You have welcomed us in
"Rachel told me it wouldn't be easy. I can feel so okay for a long time and then it all just gets to be too much again. It scares me, because I want to be able to handle life. The "mess" that life is. I not only want to be able to manage it, but be able to help Brad and Daniel make it, too. Instead I sit here, my blood pounding in my veins and my brain, wearing me down and wearing me out. I am so deeply disappointed in people. I should not be, I know I should not be. But I am."
Then I spent hours and hours talking and sipping martinis with someone I have always wanted to know deeply, but didn't think I ever could. You know how sometimes you just sit back and go, "Woah... how is it that you're here going through your thing and I'm here going through my thing... and we're in it together?" These things are not accidents. Quiet, lazy days just spent in living a few hours of life together are so good. Everything changes when a person looks you in the face and is real. I love it, it's like magic. It's scary magic, the kind that can change your whole world. But I love it just the same.
Have I said I am looking forward to Florida this weekend? I am, oh, am I ever. I have every intention of doing a whole lot of nothing at all except breathing in and out, swimming, laying in bed, and eating sushi. I am so excited:)
One can only live for so long stifling a part of themselves. Something's got to give and it inevitably will.
Back to the thing of masks coming off and people being real: I think the greatest betrayal is when a fellow human being either turns their back on your vulnerability or uses it as a weapon against you.
My brother asked me tonight about my impending tattoo. I told him it will be at attempt to make an image out of the following words. Thank you, great band. I wish you were still around, Normals. I miss you. Thanks for leaving me such great music.
We are gathered in cathedrals on a Sunday
We are shrouded in our pride and lust's despair
We have heard that You said to go to where your hearts once were
Trusting we'd arrive to find You there
We have known the empty senses of a funeral
We are haunted by the promises of death
We have asked to see Your face and noticed nothing
But a well-timed, honest smile from a friend
Oh we of little faith,
Oh You of stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of God's door
We have grown cold to the kisses of our lovers
We have rolled the windows up and driven through
The forests of the autumn,
The innocence of snow,
The metaphor of Jesus in the dew.
We have known the heated passion of the cold night,
We have sold ourselves to everything we hate.
We're hypocrites and politicians running from a fight
We've cheated on a very jealous mate.
Oh we of little faith,
Oh You stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of God's door
We have known the pain of loving in a dying world
And our lies have made us angry at the truth.
But Cinderella's slipper fits us perfectly
And somehow were made royalty with You,
Oh we of little faith,
Oh You of stubborn grace
We are the beggars at the foot of God's door
And You have welcomed us in