"The one rule in this house is: Stop. Growing. Up."

Inevitably when one marries and is with child, you feel a sudden urge to revisit your childhood and to re-examine where it is you come from, who you are. To the "me" that existed even two months ago- I believe that prospect would have been daunting, chilling and down right terrifying to me. After all, my child hood was filled with so many things that no childhood should have had- BUT- I am rediscovering so many things that not only helped me survive, but helped me grow and become who I am today. And who I am today, I love. It is not the hardships that made me who I am- it is how I fought them.

The most enjoyable part of this visit to my younger years has inevitably been all the stories I read and all the tales I loved to be immersed in. Peter Pan, Robin Hood, The Sword and The Stone- all the old fables, the Pied Piper... all of the kids books I adored, like Stella Luna, The Bridge to Terrabithia, and Where the Wild Things Are. And why don't these things remain standard reading for us when we grow tall and become "responsible"? Why do they become so forgotten for so long? It seems a shame to me- they are so timeless and true. And they often have the best reminders of what it means to be one tiny person on this big world. It's so important to remember that you're tiny. And tiny is good. :)

My prayer for my own heart in this, is that I won't ever REALLY grow up. That I'll always be willing to suspend my senses, in honor of a greater story, for a larger than life day. (Kids can do this- without ever loosing their grip on reality. We try it- and we find out that we are scared to play, scared to pretend again. But how many live their lives pretending- and not in the fun way?)

I want my heart to grow softer with the years, not harder. For my mind to open wider and wider- until it's too wide to do much of anything but write story after story and do thing, after thing. I want to give joy, passion and wit to my children- so that their smiles and their hearts will be diminished in the face of very few things. I want to live logically and illogically- soundly and loudly, and leave my small withered hand print on the face of the earth before my time comes to leave it. It is not that I want to be remembered, it's that I want to be something worth remembering.

All the pieces of my heart and my head that have succome to abuse, to hurt and to pain- they will be destroyed and replaced. Replaced by God. Replaced by love. Replaced by timelessness, and virtue- and my ever longing desire to listen to Him, wherever He may will me. And the process is in progression.

Our God is not an old man, who is too tired to run, too tired to jump, who doesn't believe in flying anymore- He is the spark in the eye of a young boy, the laughter in the middle of a war- the unrocked peace in the presence of death.. He never ages. He never gives up on the dream- and He never stops believing in us. So neither shall I.


No matter what.

My Treestand = My Happy Heart

Tristan! I love him so deeply- it is a reality beyond any words besides vows. I love how connected we are, and yet so wholly different... how much I GET him, and how much he puzzles me- but how in the end, no matter what transgresses in the center, I cannot hold any bitter taste in the mouth from that sweet kiss which he has given me. I am so lucky, blessed and joyous to have been given him. He's kinda my bestest!

A kiss sings only a quiet syllable in such a raucous opera-
In the midst of the rocking melody which is the wind to me:
Here, in the echoes of eternal love,
Which now is bound,
By everlasting affections and clasped hands...
Held close and snug in each heart is the other.

You are what our sun is to me, except you never set,
Or fade from my consciousness, my soul,
Or my destiny.
We are one in this broken, trampled sea-
Afloat by grace, and bathed in merciful rain,
Given this one chance to show the world that YES,
This can be done.



X's and O's- I love you so.

Turkeysplosion. Delicious.

What an awesome couple days it's been! I am here, celebrating Thanksgiving with the Langs- who are absolutely incredible. (I can't say I am surprised. I mean, they had a Beth! And she totally rocks!) Today is Bruce's 50th birthday extravaganza, so it's been a mad house of excitement- what with all the black friday grocery shopping, photo hunting and cooking goings on. :)

And while all of this has been fabulous- I GOT TO SEE PEGGY!!!! Finally- and it's definitely been at least five years since I have seen any of them, let alone Peg and Tim together, along with the new arrival of Claire Bear, my new baby sister. (She's about six months.) They live in my dream house. Tristan and I actually missed the turn in to the house because I was gawking and swooning- it's so stunning. These huge victorian window panels, a tall strong front door- a gorgeous porch, high ceilings, beautiful wood banisters- I could go on for days. It may even be three stories? We are planning on returning home Sunday afternoon, working Monday (and of course visiting with kittens) and then shooting right back up here a few days with Peg and Tim. I am planning on bringing some art supplies! Lots of creative flow in that venue- good place to work on jewelry.

I am feeling so wonderfully tranquil about so many things. What a glorious season of healing God has bestowed me. I am going to begin delegating a few minutes each day to trying to capture the essence of how to heal with God- I feel as if that is a very depthful subject, that often becomes shallow and hollow in one's writing, with many terms that get thrown about which are left with the reader, ultimately unexplained. It's difficult to explain how to "give your troubles to the Lord", but I am planning on letting God's voice breathe in to me. I am praying for the best! (If it's from Him, that's really what it is.)

So long!

Endorphin

There is no more precious an experience in life than deep healing in the heart. :)

Waterfall Dreams

God showed up in my dreams two weeks ago and sat down across from me, a large scalpel and a bucket of water in his hands. Nervously, I glanced over Him, searching his will, trying to understand. "Who is that for? Not me, right? You must be looking for someone else." I feared he was here to punish me, to bury me once and for all- the sinner that I am. He tilted his head and grinned sweetly, all the patience in the world exuding from within his eyes. He looked so wise, and I remember feeling so very much like a child.

"No, these are for you." He said, " You have so much I never meant for you to carry- that I died to take from you. But you have hidden those things from me- you have kept it all away in the darkest corners you can find. But you forgot that everywhere I go is light, and there is no corner in the world in which you walk that I did not create.
I wanted to do this differently, but, the time is NOW. I give you the choice. This scalpel is meant to take you apart- piece by piece, muscle by muscle- until all you are is bone and sweat. A skeleton in my hands. I am going to get to your heart and heal it- and this is the way you've left me. The water is to wash you, down to the very atoms that make up your cells, the very cells that make up every part of your body, and YOU- who makes up a part of my church. I offer you peace if you trust me. I offer you a life that you could never have outside of this acquiescence. I have no anesthesia- but I will give you peace that stands in the way of everything."

We locked eyes for quite some time.

"Do you want to know me better?" He asked gently.

"Of course." I said quickly, so small in comparison to his whisper.

"Do you love me?" He asked, taking a step closer. I drew away.

"Yes! Of course, I do." Even quicker.

"Do you believe that I can heal you- the same way I healed the others?" He knelt beside me now, down on one knee.

"Well-I ... I do believe- but you shouldn't heal me..." Sheepish and ashamed.

"Come to me, and believe no more lies." He opened his arms, wide and proud. "Will you let me love you now?"

I dropped my head and sighed a heavy tear, and crawled in to His lap, like a beaten child. Like exactly who I am- naked and burned up by a world of hatred. A world so ugly outside of Him. He lowered his voice- the scalpel ever there, the bucket of water sloshing to and fro as his arms wrapped around me. He rocked me like a child as I wailed a broken cry in to the air. Again, he cooed in to my ear, no louder than a pin drop,

"Will you let me love you?"

And for the first time in my life, through a bundle of chains and scars, with all of my heart- not just the pretty parts- I said yes.

And I will never be the same.

Thoughts over Coffee

I am working hard on realigning how I think of myself. Previously, I was seeing myself as attacked, a falling down of self, a partial crumbling- a shell of what I could have been if things had worked out differently; better, healthier, calmer. But now I am starting to TRUST that this is really in God's hands and this is heavy duty cleansingI am going through, not a breakdown. I have to be cleansed to make it to my destination. I have to drop the baggage to have the strength to carry the responsibilities I must carry as part of the body. I have a purpose, and my purpose is not to be bogged down by so much suffering. I need a forceful hand to dunk me under the river's peak and keep me there until I stop struggling and become lit aflame with life, just in time to remind me of how valuable I really am; to God.

I am trying not to be like this cat! (Yes, I am using this picture to make a point.) But also...

It's freakin' hilarious.

Anyway, so the acts of realigning my old views are going to be difficult. I am sure there will be times when I am beside myself with frustration, sorrow; who knows what else. As people it's totally easy to fall in to that "this is just how I am" mode... quickly forgetting that who we are, greatly depends on WHAT we are- and we have the power to change all of that. We always have options.

I have always embraced the theology and ideology that it is in the valleys that we grow, but I didn't realize, in any way shape or form, just how much I fought that growth process- and how often I stopped it with my choices; my need to be in control of myself, to be working out the kinks with my own hand. I told myself that God had the wheel- and a lot of the time he did, but not enough of the time to keep me on the tracks. One wheel would slide down and over, grinding in to the rocks and against the metal- and I thought that was as good as it got, that I was doing just fine. I neglected to realize that God also wants to work miracles in MY life- not just everyone elses'. He doesn't want me to be just a "survivor". He wants to give me a huge loving family, a perfect husband (well, as perfect as they can get!) a joyful, gorgeous existence- but it's not a gift he can give blindly. I have to LET him give that to me- and give up the idea that I am the world's whipping post. I never believed I was destined for anything more than that. It had to be true, that's the only way things had ever been. I've got to believe the dream.

Said

Its hard for me not too wonder why "it seems" as if things break around me more than other people. Why the people who have left me here, have left me at all, and especially when they did. Why certain people do, and did, certain things.... I don't ask why of any higher power, I ask why of myself. And possibly of you. Possibly of everyone.

Memories are eating my brain. I can't shut them off, I can't turn them down. I am having the hardest time comprehending regular things- where I was, where I am. If the sensations are real- or if they even were once. I think the problem is you can't out think pain when it's out of your head but buried in your heart. Bizarre.

Struggling.

But then that means I am still afloat- at least a bit. Otherwise, I'd just be sinking all together.

I'm asking why NOW. I am safe for the first time in my life- and here, in this sanctuary, is where I am beginning to unravel. Maybe that's it... maybe that's why. Because I am safe. I have everything I have been asking for, praying for- and I am too much of a shadow to hold it.

Even so, there are demons in my blood- and I am all but sick and tired of listening to them howl, of hearing them whisper to each other. I am more than this. I am more than these things that have befallen me. I must be. I am.

Just being around people is getting unpredictable. Things are not what they should be. Or, is there really such a thing?

I don't know much of anything anymore. My mind goes off like an alarm over the strangest things- colors, sights, sounds, things that begin to draw out this deeper enigma of myself, this past of mine I cannot recall. And that is likely best- considering the memories I do keep. This is a new haunting, from the darker depths that are hidden and masked, but those things which are naked on the surface have been chasing me for my entire life.

I am hunted.

This is who I am.