Year - Myself

There are times that I forget myself. I don't remember that I am a person that other people might be invested in. And it is not that I think people dislike me, but I am often self-aware of my flaws and shortcomings, and how much I admire and love other people that it does not occur to me that I am as loved.

I am more comfortable with giving than I am receiving, and it is something that God has been working on with me. I am always grateful to receive love and affection, but it does not strike me as something I am entitled to have. I like earning things. I like doing work for others and the gratitude I get back from a job well done. But God doesn't work that way. He loves without expectation of a reciprocal return of being worthy or deserving of that love. And it always surprises and inspires me. I want to live into that love and mirror it in my life. But I am forgetful that others might love me too. And I am ever surprised and delighted to discover that.

God's mercies are new every morning, and I am forgetful of that as well sometimes. I wake up some mornings and don't feel especially hopeful or gracious. But God is both those things and so much more, and I want to be like my heavenly Father and learn to have that hope and grace. He is patient with His children, and gives good gifts beyond what it would be fathomable to know, and as needful that I don't even realize I cannot live without those supports.

Recently, I remembered the female fronted rock group Flyleaf, and wondered what they did beyond their debut album. So I looked them up on Spotify and learned that they had a cover of "How He Loves" recorded at a live concert. And I was able to hear the message of the song anew, in an unfamiliar context, having to reevaluate the lyrics. It was such an unusual choice that I had to really consider the song beyond how I took it for granted at Sunday worship services. I am as guilty of consumerist tendencies as anyone - what becomes familiar and known by rote sometimes does not have the same impact on the heart and mind. But the song's lyrics are beautiful and touching. "How He Loves" is such a sweet reminder of God's overwhelming care for His children. And I am so appreciative of that reminder in the strange package of a Southern heavy distortion rock group.

My family threw me a surprise birthday party after a long day. I was tired by the day's events, and had limited capacity to react properly. I was extremely surprised and flattered, but also mainly baffled. I am such an advocate for my family and their vast array of talents, skills, and loves, that I forget that they love me too. Not for what I can give them, but for me being me. I live with me all the time. I can be self-aware & occasionally self-obsessed when lost in my own thoughts and logic for how the world works and makes sense to me, but I am rarely self-impressed. The things that come natural to me I take for granted that anyone else could do because it comes easily to me. I admire traits I lack because I know that some of them are difficult for me to perform myself and I am glad to know that they are humanly possible by seeing them modelled in another. I am better at copying something when I see an example of how something can be done. And I am still learning, and am ever in the process of becoming and striving to improve and progress.

But I forget that others love me for who I am, not for any value or worth of the things I can give them. There is love that is beyond earning, and past understanding. I am so grateful for that love, but ever surprised at its depths. I think of Psalm 139, but especially verse 6. And in lacking that understanding, I can fight the flood or accept it as beyond me and accept as much of it as I can contain, hoping to lead others to do the same by pouring into their lives from the excessive love I have received. God bless my family for this reminder. And may I always remember this love with the same wonder as the first time and cherish those around me as well.

X - Nihilo

 How to create something beautiful?:

It is a mixed message. A question and a process for me. Only God can create from nothing to something. And looking around, I see beautiful things. Broken things too as time has had its way and people have worked their wills to try to shape resources for their own or society's benefit. But looking to what God can do, I sometimes feel powerless in comparison. What is my best efforts compared to that? A child's scribble, always looking to nature and seeing my own imperfections in capturing the wild beauty and brutality of the originals.

There are some times where it is tempting to look to the heavens and ask why God has allowed this disconnect to occur between what I feel to be right, righteous, and true with how I am unable to recreate or fix the brokenness. Somebody should create bumpers or safeguards so we do not mar the beauty of creation. Why shouldn't God police nature to be unbreakable?

But with love comes risk, and God loves us enough to allow mistakes to be made without helicopter parenting us to not break things. He sees us as more precious than many things in creation, "very good" in Genesis 1:31 terms. But with that love comes responsibility to be caretakers and stewards of creation, then because of sin, that job was made harder by the world's brokenness in the Fall from grace.

Everything suffers from that choice and it would be convenient to point back to that moment as to when things went wrong. Through the lens of history to blame that forebearer for everything that followed. But I don't want to dwell on that. What happened happened, and it does not do to wonder what might have been had we not fallen as a race. Perhaps a convenient myth or fantasy to frame the world, but I don't know. I only know what I can do after I came to life in this world.

So what to do? How to make something beautiful? I crochet quite a bit. It calms me to bring order to the chaos of raw yarn to shape it to my will. But I don't always succeed. I try to love my creations because I made them and spent time with them under my fingers. No one else can quite love a creation like a Creator, having pride in the unwitnessed private moments of inspiration, and seeing the flaws of what could have gone better. But ever trying to improve in the successive attempts. I feel relief if someone else finds joy in my finished product, even if it is a different joy than my own. I love passing objects to others that they might have a new home - a puzzle piece that fits. Like the Realness of the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams, or the beginning of Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society in which it was dreamed that a book can find an reader who needs and loves it. That the love of a right object at the right moment can connect people.

But how to create something beautiful is a process of patience, hope, and love. To forgive yourself and others for their faults and see the potential of how sharp and broken edges can catch on other things and drift together, connecting lives. Some times it hurts when something or someone connected to your life presses into your core self, where you are vulnerable in your own identity. But such trust and long-suffering, though risky, is a deep connection shared. If an object or person is withdrawn, from that deep core connection, it is painful and it hurts to lose something or someone who you have given pieces of yourself.

So how to create something beautiful? It is hard to put into words because what is deep inside me is hard to communicate to others. It does not fit into a universal description that I can explain clearly to others. I can talk around it to try to give the shape of what I am trying to say, but Christ spoke in parables, in seeds that grow in the hearts of his listeners to gain their own unique shape of understanding when mature. I have hope that my life and my work can be beautiful things too. But when you see something beautiful that is too overwhelming to your senses, you want to share it by spilling it to others to witness. C.S. Lewis wrote about this longing for beauty to be witnessed by others and recognized. And I see God in that spark in His creation, and in the moments I myself am able to take pride in something I have made. A sense of peace and rightness that I have made something "very good."

Treadmill - Grindstone

 I am ever in a tizzy about starting these posts. Like a coffee cup full of thoughts threatening to spill over and make a mess if I rush things. But eager to get my buzzed thoughts across lest I let them cool and have to throw them out.

I dislike waste, but I am having to let things go this year. Maybe let myself go a little farther than I ever expected. Each year I get older and every functional part of my being protests that I should slow down and not take my wellbeing for granted. Alas, I know people busier than I am and hate to lose ground or face with my own efforts of self-improvement.

There is a quote attributed to John Wooden and it haunts me to this day, "Do not mistake activity for progress." And yet I see what others are doing, learning, and experiencing and I feel guilty that I am not recognizing in myself what I see in others. There is a lesson I heard growing up homeschooled, where the metric for education can move as quickly as the learner had the ability to pursue a subject. A friend's mother saw excellent students in many subjects, and expected their child to keep up with those students' best efforts. But people are limited, and though those exemplary students were clever in many ways, to expect to excel in everything is exhausting to maintain. My friend learned this through burnout - spinning their wheels without decent traction in many subjects, their treads worn thin through overuse and poor maintenance habits.

Even God rested on the seventh day. Though it is debated whether it was a necessity, given that God is to be so great and powerful. Regardless, an example was set for creation that restfulness and breaks are a natural part of life from the beginning. However, this modern American dream involves hustle and grind. If you are always ready, you don't have to get ready. And these days have ground gears. There have been articles and conversations and media all surrounding this weirdly active stasis that pandemic has wrought. The two forces of the modern American dream of endless productivity and the counter message of "Stay put and don't become a disease vector" are at a conflict, burning all our physical and mental motors. And the dualistic lifestyle walls separating work and home life have been sacrificed in the meantime.

So who am I really? I can't separate my view of myself and my responsibilities from my immediate surrounding environment when there are not external cues to dictate my behavior. A lot of adult life is about knowing how to perform your role in given situations, but now the division between the stage and the green room is gone. So are you supposed to be performing all the time? Method actors can make their craft into their life, but it takes commitment and determination and even that has a finite cut off time during the run of the production.

I know this is nothing new. But hardly anything ever is truly novel. Ecclesiastes explores wisdom and foolishness in this way, and speaks of a time and season for everything. And I want to acknowledge seasons changing in my life, but hardly anything FEELS important in the face of this giant sword of Damocles of pandemic and people whispering and shouting about who to blame for the sword's movements, whether others are more deserving of taking the blow and being in harm's way.

Enough with metaphors I guess. I just want to dress up old thoughts in new clothes to see if I can gain a different perspective on what they could be. My thoughts are relational, I try to frame understanding through parallels to check if they fit models.

I am reading Dallas Willard's "The Divine Conspiracy" and it is long. But I need long books of this nature because I am impatient and forgetful of the things I should take to heart. It is patient with its reader and the misconceptions of Christian thought over the years, walking methodically through points. It has placed my mind in a state of appreciating worship music quite a bit. I need my identity to rest in its correct relation to God. I get nervous that I don't know enough to be authoritative and it sometimes causes me to avoid study for the shame it awakens in me that I should know these things better. It is an unproductive cycle and I am grateful for patient and encouraging teachers who remind me of the wonder and majesty of God's daily gifts to us all.

So I have been listening to delirious?'s album World Service. And today remembered the Sanctus Real song "We Need Each Other", also Phil Joel's "God is Watching Over You", and the glorious "God Of Wonders" performed live by Third Day. When I have a moment's peace, I reflect on how there is probably not a finer sentiment than "Great Is Thy Faithfulness", and so on. I am living for this every day as old things arise new in my mind, for I need the hope and strength of things that will last, like was expressed in Rich Mullins' "My One Thing."

Familiar - Pettiness

 I think I have figured it out again. I remember things well, but take for granted certain truths. When something becomes extremely familiar, I can't notice it anymore as easily.

Familiar: (adj.) 1. "Well known from long or close association." 2. "In close friendship; intimate."

So how can I describe something that I have known for so long and has probably changed so much over time?

[Because all things change in time. If not the object itself, my relationship to it changes through relativity with either itself, or the distance from everything else leaving us behind. To be at rest in relation to everything is to be stagnant, and movement is our signs of life. If I am not in motion in regards to things, I am at risk of being mistaken for being dead in my tracks.]

That parenthetical is not my main point, but a waypoint I have arrived at along the way. Related to the whole as support to where I am trying to reach.

And this is what inspires this. Parent and child. How an originating idea spawns smaller ideas along the way. How they relate to each other as each of them grows. Does the relationship between them become more tenuous as they branch out into their own further points? Will it become unwieldy and harder to recognize that one led to the other?

And it is questions like these that my mother asks me. It is answers that I give that frustrate her because they are not as blunt and quick as she would like to know. Some questions only lead to further branches of questions generated by her first question. As I try to distill what I know about some subject down to its simplest and most relevant state.

Because I care about being clearly understood. But occasionally, the method by which I am best able to reduce the opportunity of being misunderstood is to be comprehensive and long-winded. So here we are - I don't want you to get the wrong idea of what I am trying to say.

But there is a hazard in this comprehensive approach. In all the details provided, my audience may lose the thread and consider my explanation a labyrinth rather than a landscape.

So. I have brought my materials to the table so far. Thank you for your patience. My point is, rarely are things able to be both "simple" and "comprehensive". Even now, these words can be read differently.

Comprehensive: 1. "Complete, including all or nearly all elements or aspects of something." 2. "Relating to understanding."

See, the first use of it in the above paragraphs, I was thinking of the first definition - and to describe something in full can take a long time to communicate. The second definition? Well, that can be simple. Literally so, because people tend to think a "simple" concept as being very easily understandable or "easy to comprehend." But it is the assumption of a common understanding that leads to opportunities of the greatest misunderstanding. 

The things that go without saying are usually not said. Because that would be pedantic in the moment. Trying to explain something simply is very hard. Because it involves a level of precision, to be so exact and concise as to communicate in short time and words everything necessary to understand, not a word more or less. Emphasis on necessary. Which is a tricky concept because what is necessary is subjective from person to person.

Once again, I return to my relativity example in the parenthetical second paragraph. And relativity is relational. So when I am in a conversation, I have to figure out what my audience knows or holds in common with me in short steps. But this can be very difficult if I know a lot about the subject or the person to which I am talking. Because both of those relationships to knowledge and people took time to accumulate. And I have to figure out what is relevant given what I know about both. 

To which person am I speaking? It is easier to not update my impression of who I believe this person is in relation to me when I last checked. Because people are lazy and just eyeball the measurement as close enough. When you have seen something repeatedly over time, the edges and distinctions start to blur. It is like taking a long-exposure photograph. The subject is likely to move. And yet if I am taking the mental image of someone, it can be very upsetting if they have moved and now I can not define them as clearly and as simply in my mind. 

And, like in that Keane song I so enjoy and hold to be true: "Everybody's changing and I don't feel the same."

But this is the hazard with the familiar. If you don't pay attention to your relationship to it, it might flip on you and become unfamiliar. And discovering this is very disorienting to recognize.

And I am trying to be both general and specific in this post. To not list any particular grievances or place any blame along the way. Not because I am trying to hide something that exists, but rather I would prefer that anything resembling pettiness in my memories blur into being unrecognizable in my mind. I want to be a forgiving person who lets things go. I carry a lot of details in my mind because I find certain things interesting. And I don't want to have an interest in keeping perceived "wrongs" or "slights" that someone has placed on my path. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, my irritation with others in relation to me should be momentary. God is still working to shave off my rougher edges and I want to catch myself before I catch up against others and start friction. I would prefer if God changes me before I expect others to be changed by God's will to better suit me and my tastes.

Relentless - Slow

My nephew will be one soon. And he is adorable, strong, and relentless. He grins and chortles and insists on exploring areas which range from being gently prohibited to firmly so. He does not know the danger of the latter, but he remains curious to push boundaries. He has learned that it gains him attention and he delights in being seen.

I love all my nephews and one niece. They are different and love in their own ways. My older sister's oldest son really considers things and delights in telling others his observations. He is fascinated by cars and hiking in nature and points out things along the way, "Did you know this? I just learned this! This thing is worth noticing and it is exciting to be alive!" It is a joy to rediscover things through the lens of his understanding. The middle child had his adjustment period to not being the baby anymore, but he has grown proud of being an older sibling to someone. He lives without fear and is learning how to communicate effectively. He loves jumping off of new things, being suspended in space before gravity reclaims him. He has gotten into reading too, which is something I share - when immersed in a story the gravity of reality loosens it's grip on you as you explore someone else's narrative and headspace.

My younger sister has my niece being her oldest child. And my niece loves showing me things. "Look at this thing I can do. I can do it myself. Isn't it great? I know what I like and how to say 'no' to things I don't enjoy. But come with me and witness my domain as a princess - a queen to be someday, but my responsibilities weigh lightly and my freedoms are high within my small world." My sister's middle child is affectionate and sweet. He loves to cuddle with people and be involved. He watches people and waits for his chance to join in fully. He loves like few people I know. And I hope that trust is not diminished by disappointment or difficulty as life goes on. My younger sister's youngest son is a being of kinetic energy, laughing like a tiny greek god as he runs about working his will upon the world. He wants to carve his name and legacy into everything he encounters. He will rush to grow into his own strength and expand what he can do.

It is the way of the world that the younger generations grow up faster than those who came before. The road has been paved by the previous wave and they can see the way forward, and want to catch up to be alongside their forebearers to blaze the undeveloped trail. I see the relentless press of time through the lives and maturation of those around me. Time is relative and my young relatives are rapidly progressing through incremental fractions of their lifetimes by leaps and bounds.

It is a wonder to witness and it inspires me daily to press forward in my own development, slow though it may be. It takes time to learn and my heart is impatient, my mind not as elastic as my nephews who see everything as fresh and new. May the Lord grant me patience and perseverance on this next year to learn wisdom and apply it in my life.

Trailing - Middle

"I so much like being clever, but know that it is often a distancing thing socially, even without the quarantine physical spacing. So sincerely, I do have joy in seeing you living your life. I pray for your happiness & peace of mind."

I sent this message to a friend. And I meant it. Very much so. I do want to wish well to others in their lives. But I wish I could be more people than just me. That I could be an entire chorus of various people with different circumstances, but the same love & care for others. Because I am never quite certain that I am right & justified in my opinions. And I tire of myself on some days, and wonder if my interests in others would be better in moderation. Both in others seeing my words to imagine who I am, and in the other person receiving encouragement from voices other than mine.

Please be kind to one another. Not only in this time, but especially in this time. I sometimes struggle with coming off as sincere. It gets uncomfortable to be vulnerable & honest with others. I have a tendency to try to crack a joke to break tension when the atmosphere of a conversation gets to be too heavy. But I am trying to become better at sitting in that heaviness & contemplating where it might lead. Yes, humor can lighten the mood, clear the air, allow others to catch their breath, & then continue exploring the topic. But it is not always the wisest move to make, as to be the person who does it repeatedly is to draw others attention to me instead. Some flowers of thought only bloom in the quiet night, and shining a spotlight on myself will discourage it from coming to fruition when I am around.

As I stated in an earlier post, I am doing fine. At least I think I am. It is hard for me to tell what is due to my sedentary lifestyle change or whatever this virus might visit upon me. Even when I go outside, I feel vulnerable & exposed. Not only because of the virus, but out of some guilt that I am disobeying the encouraged isolation decree.


I wrote the following on a notepad about two weeks ago & have revisited it as a reminder for when I felt restless & troubled in spirit.

"Guilt is a weird burden to carry. I long to connect with others in person, but know that people are supposed to stay home right now. I don't want to mourn or complain or contaminate others. There is an internal pressure on external choices. To leave is to fill a human desire to commune, but that desire could possibly lead to me infecting others unaware.

I am having to tell myself to be quiet & secure. I don't need to go anywhere. I am thankful that God has provided a means for me to remain sheltered in place & remain financially stable at this time.

I like to explain things to people. I like to explain myself. But at its worst, this might be rooted in a fear of miscommunication or misunderstanding of how I think I present myself, and how I desire to control my own narrative.

I can bite my tongue & listen to others. I can just be here. It is fine. God loves me. I can love others & remain secure for now, praying actively for their physical, mental, & emotional health & safety. I have been placed in a season where I can try to focus on being still & knowing that there is a God. I need to walk for now, I wish to run free again. But to do so, I need to take it one step at a time. To be compliant, patient, and learn how to meditate on His word, & listen in the silence as life has slowed around me."

Pass - Overview

I have an okay life and I am grateful.

I have to remind myself of this every so often.

Community is a good thing, but I can feel selfish for wanting it right now.

Even if others are craving the same thing. 

It is an essential part of the human experience to be able to connect and know you are not alone.

In Genesis, Adam dealt with this as the only one of his kind - and it was a world that was good and he was very good in his Creator's eyes?

Was it a miscalculation or error on God's part to leave His very good creation as one of a kind and incomplete? I certainly don't know.

But what I do know is that I tend to value things more when I recognize how greatly I desire them in my lack of them.

In Plato's Republic, it was noted as a political truth that the citizens grow used to a standard of living progressing to beyond their ability of their society to sustain through their resources, so they would rather go to war with another country for new resources than scale back their lifestyle.

It is a troubling lens through which to view world history. 

I am more fond of Niccolo Machiavelli's political work The Prince, not because I advocate his theories of staying in power, but the motivating factor behind him writing it. He was so passionate about political communities and, being exiled, longed to return to them enough to offer this as a bizarre olive branch to those in power if only he could rejoin them.

It did not succeed, but it speaks to a longing of community and interests. Sometimes those driving factors have unintended consequences and side effects. Things intended for good were turned to ill purposes. Perhaps these ill times can also be turned to healthy purposes.

Currently, with this time of recommended isolation, there have been growing pains to adjust and adapt to this new schedule and standard of living.

It fits differently, providing unfamiliar gaps and restrictions on my time. Some others have discovered small joys in exploring these gaps to see how far they reach. Others have despaired at the constrictions on areas where they enjoyed freedom to exercise. On a day to day basis, I oscillate between the two - it depends on my focus and attention. It is easy to forget myself and my complaints when I am focused on something else. But in isolation, I have to deal with myself more frequently than in the company of others where I can place my attention externally.

It is so analytical and cold to state it in such terms. But it is good to be able to support others and allow them to support me. It is a give and take relationship, and in the absence of my having a choice whether to engage or disengage, it is unsettling.

Free will and self-control are two factors which have haunted me in my life, and my acknowledgement of their weight of responsibility has propelled me forward - self flagellation to provide momentum to a flagellum of an idea.

I admit that it might be a grossly simple way to frame it, but I could have 143 other options which would also be a gross way of explanation.

I don't hate myself, and I don't want to complain or berate myself into a self-destructive spiral. But there is a difference between choosing to be alone for a time and being strongly told that I will isolate for a time. From the outcome, it has the same effect, but for the object, it is internal forces or external forces of pressure and it feels different to give time to personal expansion than to be told to compress and hold myself from risk of contamination.

These are disparate thoughts in a desperate time. I am grateful to be surviving, but acknowledge that things can and should be better. I hope we all learn from this experience, but not everything has a greater lesson or purpose. It takes time and memory to try to sort out sense and narrative. I have some time at the moment to reflect, but the mirror has a tendency to get features flip-flopped and see only the short sighted present and a long way into the past rather any good view of what the future holds.

I don't know what the future holds. I am not a futurist. But I hope I survive to see it when it comes.