Patience

Hm.

Another friend of mine is engaged. Happily engaged. And I am forced to do that "mind thing" where I remind myself that it's okay that it's not me. Because I love him, and he loves me back. I trust that he, and more importantly, God, has a great, unique, taylor-made plan just for us. I'd rather wait another 10 years, enduring a seemingly endless dating purgatory than to do things too soon.



I'm okay.

Full Plate.

My life is like a steady stream of chaos right now. My plate is full. Pilled to capacity with carbohydrate-rich foods, salty vegetables, and meats. Socially, I have a waiting list of people that I need to hang out with. And I'm worried about all of them.

"Brittney! You're ignoring me! We have to catch up!"
"Hey! When are we going to hang out?"
"I want to see you! Can we have lunch tomorrow?"

::slops on mashed potatoes::

I've been in a game of phone tag with a friend for about 3 weeks and I can't seem to have the time to talk to her.

"Stop ignoring my phone calls!" (via message)

::piles on collard greens::

I haven't called my mom in a week. I have 3 graduate classes that all have papers/projects due in the next seven days. I've cooked a real meal in my kitchen once this week. I'm juggling two part-time jobs and attend two small groups a week. I'm worried about using my boyfriend's gas allotment to get me back and forth to work; among his other problems that he's dealing with. I signed up to make two sweet potato pies for a dinner I'm attending this weekend. I'm in therapy (basically) and I need to start looking for an internship to get my supervision hours. My computer's at the shop to be fixed, and I need it to do homework.

::adds a slab of chicken-fried stake::

I want to go home. I want to sleep. I want to bake cookies and watch The Cosby Show. I want to snuggle underneath my boyfriend's rib and not move an inch.

No matter what I do, or how hard I try, someone goes without something they need from me. I'm worried about flunking an assignment. Or being a bad friend. Or being undependable.

God knows I can't do it alone, so I'm trying to trust him. Meanwhile, keep up with the momentum.

The Language of My Politics

I believe that the political arena was created by people to help people. And there are moments in our history where it has served that purpose. The first settlers came to this land because they didn't want to be told how or who to worship. Some say that America was founded on Biblical principles. It's no matter to me, personally, because you can hold a Bible in one hand, and still grip a whip in the other hand. You can shake the hand of a red-skinned man in a gesture of brotherhood, while concealing a rifle behind your back.

Woefully, America was doomed to pay for her sins.

The same battle for freedom that the first Europeans sought from a harsh theocracy is being reflected in the subtle war of religious variety in America today. If you wish to build a land that is free from an established religion, then it must be just that. The tide will be determined, not by the power of the Christians, but by the heart/courage of the Christians. God decided to bring the Savior to earth during a time where one of the most feared rulers reigned. Why do believers feel that we are entitled to theocratic submission in a democracy? Go vote, yes. Shine your light, definitely. But don't think it strange when there are Muslims, Buddhists, and Atheists who are openly adamant in their faith. The existence of other faiths should not threaten yours. I believe in a God who is real, whether or not I believe in Him or worship Him. He will Be when America is long gone. He was here before its first Natives stepped on to its soil.

We need God back in our land, yes. But not necessarily back in the White House (assuming it ever was), or in the Pentagon. But in the people. The desperate, lost ones that walk the streets. The hurting and afraid that aren't even old enough to vote yet. We argue and bicker on the internet, in coffee shops, and in dorm rooms over policy but will go no further.

Our politics, though they can carry the weight of great moral conviction, has been reduced to propaganda. The same type that rallied naive Germans into slaughtering millions of Jews. Because it distracts and it prevents us from seeing what happens around us every day. Today, everyone's focus (and a pointed, accusatory finger) is aimed at Washington. I've seen with my young eyes, that it produces strife among friends. Disharmony among brothers. And contempt among citizens. I, for one, am sick of being handled by the machine.

See You Later, Darling...

I still get sad when he leaves.
Not all the time, and not in a way that cripples me.
But I do dread that moment when he shifts in his seat, checks the time on his phone, and says,
"I think I'm going to get ready to head home."

I'll admit it.
My heart sinks a tad.

Yes, I know that it won't be long before I see him again.
And I have that first hug/touch/smile to look forward to...

Still.
Seeing him walk/drive away isn't always fun.
I think I'm dealing with the "see you later" becoming a possible "goodbye".
Sure, that's pretty pessimistic/paranoid, but it only takes losing someone once without warning to get you thinking about the moments you're allowed to have with those you love.
There are times where I wish he'd come back for one more hug. One last look into my eyes to subliminally tell him that I thank God for him.

I'm not sure how it became the norm, but every time he drops me off at my house, he will wait until I get my key into the door, for it to open, and for me to turn to look at him sitting in his car...before he waves at me. And I'll wave back.

He does that every time.
And that wave isn't frantic like a "goodbye" (you know, how you see at the end of movies...), but it's a subtle, unconscious "see you later". Which is why that first hug/touch/smile is so electric to me. It's like God gave us a gift in the form of a fulfilled "see you later".

Because none of us knows if we will every see anyone later, right?

Welcome Home?

At this very moment I'm sitting in my first (rented) duplex house.

Mine. 

Lounging on a bed/comforter that I paid for.

I'm a little nervous...

Not because I can't live basically alone (there's another tenant with me, but she's here temporarily). Or that I can't handle the rent payments.

I'm nervous about calling this my "home". 

Because it's just me here.

Running for Dear Life. (Feelings in Figurative Speech)

I am a fugitive. 

Desperately fleeing the snares that pursue me. Nipping at the back 2 inches of my heels, I breathe deep and pound my feet harder. So swift sometimes, I am, that I no longer feel the ground. No matter if it's land or sea, my pace is so rapid that I maneuver my steps on the water's surface. My heartbeat throbs with fear, mixed with a desperation to keep my soul in tact. At times, my foot catches a blade of grass or my knees buckle from sudden pressure...but through my stumbling I fling my body further ahead. No need to look back because I know well what hounds me. And I run because it had me in its clutches before, and I dare not let it seize me again. Dear Lord, not again...

Timing.

I am a dichotomy of sorts. At times my ideals conflict with my actions. One of those being that of timing. I have an awful sense of timing; despite having a strong reverence for the value of time itself. Losing my brother at an early age opened this door to my mental; showing me that time is precious. No words should be left unsaid. Actions are meant to be intentional, meaningful, but sure. We're only given one life, and a numbered set of chances. Surprisingly, even to myself, I've had my brave moments.

I am not, by far, one of those people who go from spontaneous moment to the next. Maybe because I feel peace when something I put work and effort into, actually meets success. Some things are meant to have the accompaniment of planning. Even important, lofty things like dreams cannot become reality without your own two hands' determined grasp. Regardless, unplanned or thought out, each transition from one season to another is birthed through a single moment. Where you make a decision to move or act. Granted, it's only 1/18 of a second in light of a lifetime, but these moments are the vehicles of our lives.

The moment where I decided to pick up that pencil and paper and write my first poem.
...Where I filled out that college application.
...Where I stood in front of a microphone at my first open mic.
...Where I kissed him back and peeked open my heart.
...Where I prayed that prayer with my pastor.

I've had my brave moments. But I wasn't alone.
Something was always present; beckoning me on. Calling me higher.
Encouraging me not to live life afraid; hiding from the bad moments.

Which is why I don't see life as a rollercoaster meant to only be enjoyed and endured until the ride is over. Each turn, rise, and fall is meaningful. The destination is sure to come, but that doesn't make the journey any less beautiful.

Look up from your grind and notice the handwriting in between each minute on the clock. Pay attention to the hidden pull of Love, and its urgency to call you higher from where you've settled.

Timing speaks and it says that there's more.

Love & War

After much self-inspection, I am still not sure exactly how I survived the past 16 months. While I am grateful that a Being more sovereign than I saw fit to accompany me every step of the way, acting as a guide/protector, I am still taking inventory of all that my heart has endured. Years ago, I would have submerged myself into a vat of self-pity labeled "Victim-mentality", but with 25 less than 3 months away...I'm finding a different perspective. On what it means to live. Truly live. But foremost, on how to truly love.

One cannot be sure how strong the bond is between two people unless it has been tested. Taken through a variety of turmoil and even betrayal. However, I feel that it isn't just the strength of the love that's stressed, but the power of the Will of each person. At any moment after a betrayal or crisis, only one person is needed to decide not to continue. To be committed to another person is the weightiest vow a human being can give, because he/she knows that love alone just isn't enough.  We gladly give our lives (and rightfully so) to the notion of possessing love. To give ourselves completely to it. We innately desire to be disassembled by its ways; changing us from the inside out. Then, we realize that intense feelings can be duplicated from person to person. The addicting high that comes with connecting with another person can be experienced repeatedly (as you move from person to person)..and we can feed off of the excitement of an individual's mystery for years. The Love is there, but the Will has not yet taken the reigns.

The first time I fell in love, it ended because he slept with another woman. After 2 years of dating, we had just begun to get to know each other. It was my first adult relationship and we both knew early that we wanted it to lead to marriage. We were insanely in love and it drove our lives. I had just gotten over a 5 year crush/fling that left me empty and afraid. I was war-torn. I can remember the first time he held me, because it was the first time I'd ever been held like that by a man. I was intrigued and enamored by him. So, we allowed ourselves to be caught up in the ebb and flow of our love; with nothing else sustaining us. In retrospect, I believe that we could have worked it out. We could have taken this season of war and used it to strengthen a love that was already present. But we did not.

I allowed that relationship to form my original philosophy on relationships: Love is a Choice.

Afterward, I stopped being afraid of enduring war in Love. I realized it was necessary, and a testing agent to how strong the Love is. Currently, I am still in awe of how much stronger my heart is now. Because it had been broken, subtly and repeatedly. Others have broken it intentionally. However, my Love for my Beloved is so much stronger than it was 16 months ago. My choice to love him is as fiery and passionate as a summer fling, but it's girded with the stuff that allows Love to see its golden years.

Speak. {Part 1}

For most of my childhood, I thought that my voice was either insignificant or incompetent. I grew up as a soft-spoken soul in the midst of a loud family who needed to shout to get their point across. My peers and I, in grade school, held the belief that the people who talked the loudest/most were heard/reverenced more. I was neither. However, my silence gave me maneuvering abilities. I was able to observe without being noticed, and I witnessed many truths and life lessons. I literally learned through the mistakes of others, and that gave me a bit of wisdom that most teenagers did not have. In a way, it made it easier to stay out of trouble, because I was close enough to see where some paths lead. Superiors and mentors in my life began to take notice. And suddenly, I became an "ideal" teenager; with a clean lifestyle and wisdom, conjointly. Through my silence/docile nature, I had finally been given a voice.


Somewhere around my 21st birthday, I became more and more vocal. Confident in spiritual matters because I'd been groomed to be the leader. The fault-less standard of holiness that others could look up to. The one who not only lived above reproach, but made sure she told everyone else how they should straighten up. I became less afraid of speaking up; and caring less about the consequences. It was liberating, truly. Considering that I was forced to keep silent; be seen and never heard, I took most opportunities to open my heart and mouth and use it as a method to teach and educate others.

My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment. Even so, the tongue is a little member and boasts great things.   --James 3:1,5

 The moment I was given a voice, I also accepted the tendency to be judgmental and haughty. I assumed that I'd been given a gift of oversight to correct others. I was, unknowingly, using a vehicle of condemnation; calling it a gift of teaching. Meanwhile, I myself struggled with correction, and was more condemning to my own heart than anyone else. "This is the way that it has to be, right?" "People won't change unless you give them hard truth and pierce through their emotions!" I think this passage in James says that those who wish to teach must have a clearer sense of grace, empathy, and humility than those they teach. Teachers will be examined more thoroughly, because of the responsibility attached to carry truth to others. If the teachers misuse their role, then people may not receive truth.

Let everyone be swift to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger because the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God. -- James 1:19-20

Learn The Lesson.

"Life is a long lesson in humility." -- James Matthew Barrie

We live in the age of the Hater, where we place emphasis on having victory over odds and others. From birth, we are taught to pursue what we want in life, and that the most important opinion is our own. The toughest heart is girded to hold to the belief that you can only count on yourself. You are all you have. Even religious-minded people hold similar thoughts: "Trust no man, only God." " Only God can judge me."  Circumstances, which are meant to chip away the hardness of our hearts, only add to the boulder on our shoulders. Overall, it's puzzling to me why we end up choosing to grasp tighter to ourselves, instead of letting go. Is it that we think we'll end up losing ourselves at the end of it all? But that's impossible.

We are who we are.

When God created us, He didn't just mold our outer shells. He also placed an inner nature deep inside. That, which is "in His image". But, as the story goes, we believed a lie and took on another, false nature. True love is self-sacrificing, but we are taught that love is indicative on how a person makes us feel. We weren't created to deny our feelings, or be led by them. Yet, God knew that a passionate heart, tainted by a sinful nature would equal disaster. Which is why we, as human beings, are in a constant, ever-abounding need of an ego check.

All of us. From Hitler to Mother Theresa.

Our society desires to keep us occupied on the dissension that lies between us, instead of the real battle that's going on. I'm not downplaying hurt, rejection, or any of the other forms of heartache that one can endure in a lifetime. However, we are taught that the remedy is to increase your self-love. That if you'd simply love yourself more, it will help you make sense of all you've been through. But, that is incomplete.

It's amazing the point of reference you have when you take the stance of a servant.

As Always....He is the Last Thing I Think of...

It's something about that initial contact.

That moment.
I mean, we exist a part from each others sights consistently.
It could be days before we are next to each other, and that doesn't make me question whether or not I am on his mind...Like he is on mine...
I don't wonder if the love is fading, because I feel that the exact opposite is true.

Still.
It's something about that first hug. The "hello" in his hand grabbing mine.
The second his fingertips graze my cheek.
I anticipate the electricity but am still caught off guard at the point of impact.
Sometimes, I want to go through intentional bouts of long distant agony, so that I experience his touch at maximum strength.

It's love.
I know.
But in that moment, it's as if I've always known...but not quite enough.
I missed a detail. A hidden, minuscule portion of the obvious.
That contact overwhelms my awareness.
And if doubt could ever manage it's way into my heart, it could never be then.
In that moment.
...There's just no room.

Ugly. (Part 2...before Part 1)

I carry a beauty inside that I do not understand.

I have never thought of myself as an especially attractive person, but I do see a beauty when I look into my own reflection. I see beauty in most things, actually. There is beauty in the embrace of two enemies. In the giggle of a carefree child. In the random, purposeful flight pattern of a butterfly. Even in the surprising crescendo of melody during the bridge of a song. It’s as if a surge of emotion comes from a hidden place inside of you, and for a moment, you connect with God’s original design. Sometimes, I’ll want to stay and linger, because it feels like I am literally walking through the Garden with Him. It feels familiar; like I am back in a place where I am welcome. Home.

I tend to hide in the background.

Even though I stand at an even six feet, I am most comfortable preparing others for their individual callings for greatness. I’ve had moments where I’ve witnessed God’s light within my own soul. However, I try my best to shy away from it after a while, because I do not want to get contented with the idea that God wants to dwell permanently within me. I understand that for salvation and righteousness purposes, God wants to set up his dominion. He wishes to have complete Lordship over my heart, and to this, I gladly comply. Still, I am uneasy with the fact that He not only wants to own me, but He wants to live in and through me.

A landlord is not required to live in the same apartment complex as his tenants, but a good landlord will commit to the well-being of those who live there. The landlord who lives among his tenants wishes to be readily available to them. I will never understand why Christ saved my soul, only to set up a gorgeous palace in the center of its ruins, and then rest there.

He is my beauty.
He’s the beauty that I do not understand.
...That I am scared to death to live without...

Out In the Cold.

Love subjects you to the worse kinds of treatment. It is literally a call to submit one's will to that of another. That may mean forgiving an offense quickly. Biting your tongue when misunderstood. Embrace when you're not ready to. Love never looks out for itself...it is constantly, intentionally self-less.

Easier said than done.

Oh, it's quite easy to give your last dime when you don't have any issues standing in the way of you and the person in need. It's pretty effortless to give Love in the middle of June, on a gorgeous beach...as you and your baby stretch out next to one another; picking out clouds and deciphering their shapes.

Sure.

But, to me, Love is the dead of winter. Two embittered people stung by circumstance and hovering together underneath one umbrella...Meanwhile the harsh cold winds blow and the stinging snow comes down unmercifully. There is a chance for survival, because they are in it together. There will be times where the other person will slow his/her pace. Or get weary. And will need encouragement and a strong arm to hold them up. Soon, it may be your own feet that drag from the journey in the cold. Love knows that it will die without exercise or freedom of movement. So, in the cold it moves as much as it possibly can...

But what if there's only one person? A solitary soul...out in the cold.

"...if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?"
--Ecclesiastes 4:11

What happens to a person that has no other to keep him/her warm? To aid him/her along in the journey? Always possessing the Source/Creator of Love, but having no one to exercise Love to? Or having a body to keep warm, but receiving no warmth themselves in return? How does a heart survive without true empathy, selflessness, and kindness?

How long will that soul travel the streets before someone stops to join him/her?

Love Musings.

1. It isn't until he sees her laugh at another guy's joke, or say hello to him while making direct eye contact, that he considers maybe bachelorhood wasn't as wonderful as he thought. For a second, he thinks that possibly...he had it good for a little while.

2. Single people long to be in a relationship. Married people secretly wish for their single or courtship days. Widowers mourn over lost lovers. It's a harsh reality: love is hard.

3. I am amazed at how discontent we are with one another's humanity in relationships. Truthfully, everyone wants someone that they can rest their hat and coat with. To be faced with their plain face, morning breath, and grumpy moods...and still consider them worth keeping around.

4. Speaking of plain faces: I make it a habit of not wearing make-up regularly when dating a guy. Simply because I want him to make sure he sees what he's getting.

5. Anyone deciding to chase after love must be prepared to endure a triathlon. Love tends to involve various disciplines and demands eclectic skill. It isn't just running for great distances, but a trek across land and sea.

6. I still wonder what he is thinking when he looks at me....

7. "Love at first sight"....but what about Mothers and unborn babies? Love transcends sight, I think.

We've Come So Far, but have So Far To Go.

I have loved the same guy for over 2 1/2 years. He's been my friend for over 3 1/2. It was a short time before I fell in love with him, that he was my Best friend. In the span of 18 months, we aimed and shot emphatically at each others hearts....pacing at the speed of light. Passion and emotion, mixed with a deeply poetic connection and Spiritual accord to boot, and you have a duo that became almost infamous among our circle of friends.

Life did what it's known to do. It proved to be bigger than we could handle with our overeager hands. The title became too much of a weight to carry. And the future, with all of its expectations and hope, took his breath away. Thus, the status became "complicated".

After almost 7 months of being "just friends", there's still a glow growing between us that we can't seem to smother. Close friends of ours watch closely to see if we'll eventually disintegrate like most in the same scenario do. The title has been stripped; resting on a strategically placed mantel...hidden away. But, laughter and camaraderie still exists as strongly as it ever did. Granted, it took some work to get there...but we're still here. Still friends.

I look back at the path we've taken to get to this spot, and it's littered with debris from all that we've endured at one another's side. And then I squint my eyes at the trail extended before he and I. It's straight and narrow, yet wide enough for two pairs of feet. And it seems to stretch for miles.....

Final Thoughts for Tonight...

Who is this voice telling me not to trust him?
...dear God, I hope he doesn't hurt me...

Court Jester.

I'm very good at making myself look like a fool for him. Since enduring the Great Hurt in high school, I promised myself that I would never conduct heart matters without a heavy amount of dignity. Now, all of my mature intentions have gone completely out of the window. I am utterly devoid of "cool points". And I could care less.

Even though I can feel my inner feminist cringe and flinch whenever I smile insanely at a text from him, look at his picture for the millionth time, or jump at the sound of his ring-tone, the romantic little girl in me comes out of hiding. Each day, I experience the same blended emotion:
gratefulness because of our friendship, and fear of losing his love forever. I live in the moment, emphatically....times 4. Because not only am I purposefully NOT thinking about getting back together, I am so thankful for every second and moment I get to spend with him.

I'm constantly in the mode of making a memory. I take longer looks into his eyes. Wrap my arms around his neck for a second more. I listen intently like a friend would, but at the same time...I am paying special attention to the light in his eyes when he discusses certain topics. I memorize the moments his dimples fade and reappear. The rise and fall of his smile when he's trying to hide a thought. I listen. More than he realizes.

I express purpose in my speech...so that he never misunderstands that I am appreciating every moment. And that is so foolish of me.

Because he doesn't need all of that, does he?
He doesn't need such attention or sincerity...

...rather a warm body at night, that is gone by daybreak.
Or an open, willing heart with no strings attached.
And I am a fool...because I would give it.

My Heart Benches About 350...

I'm known to be a slow gravitator towards retaliation. Even as a teenager, I can count on my hands the number of times that I actively sought revenge. Not that I've never wanted to hurt someone who hurt me...but I think that I have always feared what it would be like to hold vengance in my heart for too long. Long enough where it would change me...

This has not kept me from getting hurt, mind you. Sometimes I feel that my pain is more severe than others. The blow of disappointment and betrayal sharper because I choose not to deflect it by blaming others or focusing on revenge.

I've been told that I am too sensitive.

And that my heart is too big for my own good.

That I take to heart things that the average person would shrug off easily.

All are correct....

But, in doing much soul searching, I've come to realize that I actually....like...this part of me.

Though it curses me to exist with a wide open heart; increasingly susceptible to hurt...I have been given a Strength that girds my heart with armor. The unpentrable nature shows on the inside rather than permeates the outside...like most hearts seem to be.

I'm not of the weak, naive, or ignorant.

I look at pictures of old loves with new loves and can smile.

Shake the hands of those who used them once to do me harm.

And strive to live peaceably with all men.

Each time I extend an embrace. Take notice, but Forgive a personal grievance.

Consider my own short-comings before estimating another's character.

And plead with a fair-weather friend for restoration.

I feel my heart getting stronger.

Bigger....but stronger.

Blank Pages (Random Thought)

It's time for the dysfunction to go.

My wings have been strengthened throughout the length of the journey, but I've got my eyes on higher skies. Ready to close some chapters so that the Lord can tackle these blank pages...

Beat of Life...(Random Thought)

At the end of the day, people don't want good music, or truth to convict their living, they just want an ill beat to dance to; numbing them of their problems. People want a sweet distraction, a gorgeous body to cuddle next to, and a string of euphoric moments disguised as peace of mind.