The five members of my family, including me, are all under one roof tonight. The roof that covers the place we call home, to be specific. That hasn't happened in a while.
We've all done our fair share of traveling over the past several weeks, but my brother, the older of the two, has been gone the most. I've only seen him twice in the past approximately four weeks.
Most people who know me know my brother. Because we're together all the time. We've been a pair for about 19 years. With a very few exceptions, we have all the same friends. Our major interests are the same. And we happen to get along. Which is nice, because I've spent my life rarely feeling like I was without company.
For me, this past month has been a glimpse of the not-so-distant future. When one or both of us move out on our own, we won't be together 24/7. It's kind of sad to think about. But that's the way it is, and the way it should be. At some point, we must set out on the individual paths in front of us. But I have no doubt we will stay close, even if we live halfway around the world from each other.
But for right now, we have been reunited and can continue to spend 24/7 together. Tomorrow we will accomplish that by going on a roadtrip. I think it'll just be the two of us in my car, but our other brother may ride with us, too. Either way, that means lots of singing for the Harmon kids. We're like the von Trapp family, only with a few less kids....several less....maybe we'll get some three-part harmony going.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Greatest Story Ever Sung: Part Two - Good Behavior
The next song in this ongoing series comes to us from Tiffany Lee, also known as Plumb. It's called "Good Behavior."
"I was frozen in a fragile world
Of make-believe and empty lies
Dressed in the rules
Of a virtuous game
Captured by the thought of fear
And loneliness
Afraid to cry
Suffocated for trying to scream
And I want out now
To find myself
'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior
Oh, my naked skin
Feels the warmth of the sun
My eyes are opened
To the brightness of light
Driven by a force so free
To live this life not paralyzed
But with reckless abandon
So now I can breathe
'Cause I wanted out
To find myself
'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior
Don't do this, don't do that
You will be oh, so perfect
Don't do this, don't do that
You will be oh, so perfect
Perfect, perfect
'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior"
"Well-behaved" was a common character description of me as a child. And I guess I'm still well-behaved. My mom was talking to our 80-something-year-old neighbor recently, and the long-lived woman said to my mother, "You've got good kids, and I don't care if I say it to your face, you've got good kids. You've got the kind of kids they used to raise a long time ago." So it would seem that she approves of my behavior. What of my behavior she has seen, that is.
But there came a point several years ago when my good behavior started to drive me crazy. Not so much my behavior, really, but the fact that what I did never seemed to give me what I wanted, which was a sense of fulfillment inside. I started feeling like I was banging my head against a wall all the time, and instead of feeling a reward for all of my hard work, I still felt like something was missing.
Thankfully, purely by the grace of God, I never really went through a rebellious stage. Not in the typical sense. Even though I was so discontent, I never felt like jumping off the deep end would be a wise idea. It just seemed to lead to more trouble that I hoped to avoid. What I did instead, again, purely by the grace of God, was start seeking God more than I ever had before. Through that, I got to know Jesus better than ever, and he changed my heart so completely.
That's what I had been missing. It's not about what I do, it's about Jesus. Trying to be perfect all day long is pointless. I won't be able to do it, and it's not going to make me complete.
And now, the motivation for everything I do has changed. I am "hidden with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3), and because of that I strive to "be holy, because [He is] holy." (2 Peter 1:15) Jesus already saved me, and so everything I do is a result of that. My horse is before my cart, and not the other way around.
And so this song, "Good Behavior," describes me so well. The first verse was me before I fully realized the freedom I had gained in Christ, and the perfect was making me crazy. And the second verse is me after, awake, alive, not stuck anymore. It describes me so well, in fact, that the first time I really paid attention to the lyrics of this song, I thought, "Wow. Plumb is in my head." Not really, though. She's just a human like me. A human who has come alive and found all that she needs in Jesus Christ.
"I was frozen in a fragile world
Of make-believe and empty lies
Dressed in the rules
Of a virtuous game
Captured by the thought of fear
And loneliness
Afraid to cry
Suffocated for trying to scream
And I want out now
To find myself
'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior
Oh, my naked skin
Feels the warmth of the sun
My eyes are opened
To the brightness of light
Driven by a force so free
To live this life not paralyzed
But with reckless abandon
So now I can breathe
'Cause I wanted out
To find myself
'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior
Don't do this, don't do that
You will be oh, so perfect
Don't do this, don't do that
You will be oh, so perfect
Perfect, perfect
'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior"
"Well-behaved" was a common character description of me as a child. And I guess I'm still well-behaved. My mom was talking to our 80-something-year-old neighbor recently, and the long-lived woman said to my mother, "You've got good kids, and I don't care if I say it to your face, you've got good kids. You've got the kind of kids they used to raise a long time ago." So it would seem that she approves of my behavior. What of my behavior she has seen, that is.
But there came a point several years ago when my good behavior started to drive me crazy. Not so much my behavior, really, but the fact that what I did never seemed to give me what I wanted, which was a sense of fulfillment inside. I started feeling like I was banging my head against a wall all the time, and instead of feeling a reward for all of my hard work, I still felt like something was missing.
Thankfully, purely by the grace of God, I never really went through a rebellious stage. Not in the typical sense. Even though I was so discontent, I never felt like jumping off the deep end would be a wise idea. It just seemed to lead to more trouble that I hoped to avoid. What I did instead, again, purely by the grace of God, was start seeking God more than I ever had before. Through that, I got to know Jesus better than ever, and he changed my heart so completely.
That's what I had been missing. It's not about what I do, it's about Jesus. Trying to be perfect all day long is pointless. I won't be able to do it, and it's not going to make me complete.
And now, the motivation for everything I do has changed. I am "hidden with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3), and because of that I strive to "be holy, because [He is] holy." (2 Peter 1:15) Jesus already saved me, and so everything I do is a result of that. My horse is before my cart, and not the other way around.
And so this song, "Good Behavior," describes me so well. The first verse was me before I fully realized the freedom I had gained in Christ, and the perfect was making me crazy. And the second verse is me after, awake, alive, not stuck anymore. It describes me so well, in fact, that the first time I really paid attention to the lyrics of this song, I thought, "Wow. Plumb is in my head." Not really, though. She's just a human like me. A human who has come alive and found all that she needs in Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Thoughts on smart people
Today is Tuesday. Which means that I went to Bible study this evening.
After we finished, our group leader came over and asked, "How have you been?" I said, "I've been good." And then he said something that I have heard countless times in my life, "You didn't say much tonight." My answer was, "The more other people talk, the more quiet I get." "I noticed that," was his reply. He then started saying that I should have spoken up, and he would have liked for me to speak up, because I usually have good things to say. I hear that a lot, too.
True to form, my mind kicked into gear after that, and I was lost in my thoughts for at least the next several minutes. And I started thinking about smart people.
As dumb as I feel sometimes, people still insist on saying that I'm smart. And if you want to take into account academics, I do well in school, so I guess that's smart. And if I'm being entirely truthful, I do consider myself to be fairly intelligent. So for the sake of this discussion, let's say I'm smart. So I am one of these "smart people" I was thinking about.
And here's what I was thinking: smart people always have something to say, and yet you often don't hear much from them. At least for smart people like me. And this is the thought process that led me to that conclusion:
When a question is asked, a smart people always have an answer. It may or may not be right or relevant, but an answer is usually to be found. It's in their nature. Because smart people are always seeking knowledge and understanding. They're always thinking, trying to figure out things. Asking theirselves questions, in order to find out answers. So when a question is asked by someone else, they likely have an answer. And if they don't have a ready answer, upon spending a moment in thought, they usually come up with something in their vast store of wonderings.
So...I'm one of those smart people. I usually seem to find an answer for everything, some conclusion to any given situation. So it's a given that in a discussion, or when a question is asked, that I will have some kind of answer/knowledge/idea/opinion that I can share. So I could spout things off forever. Theoretically.
And where does that leave everyone else? What about their opinions? Their ideas? Their perspectives? Their knowledge? If I were to always talk when I had something to say, nobody would get a chance to open their mouths. But they should. They deserve to have their chance to be heard. They know different things than I know. They have different experiences than I do.
So I sit back, close my mouth, and listen. The more people are around, the longer my mouth stays closed, and the more I practice opening my ears. In this way, people are allowed to let their voice be heard, and I further satisfy my hunger for knowledge and understanding.
When in a group discussion, there are two things that usually get me to open my mouth, besides directly asking me a question: 1.) nobody having anything to say, and 2.) me feeling that what I have to say is so important that it HAS to be shared, and so I will try my hardest to shove my way into the conversation. When neither one of those things happen, the result is what happened tonight in my Bible study, my mouth remaining largely closed.
So if you really want to talk to me, or more precisely, have me talk to you, and share what I have to say, talk to me alone. And be prepared for (and try to be comfortable with) awkward silences. Because another characteristic of the smart person is being lost in your head. So I often have to find my way out before I can speak.
And I do encourage you to do that. I really love one-on-one conversations. They're much more intimate. And I feel like I and the person I'm talking to are able to make a much more substantial connection. And until I change my habits in group interactions, they're one of the few chances I get to say much. And as content as I am to be quiet most of time, it's good to mix it up.
After we finished, our group leader came over and asked, "How have you been?" I said, "I've been good." And then he said something that I have heard countless times in my life, "You didn't say much tonight." My answer was, "The more other people talk, the more quiet I get." "I noticed that," was his reply. He then started saying that I should have spoken up, and he would have liked for me to speak up, because I usually have good things to say. I hear that a lot, too.
True to form, my mind kicked into gear after that, and I was lost in my thoughts for at least the next several minutes. And I started thinking about smart people.
As dumb as I feel sometimes, people still insist on saying that I'm smart. And if you want to take into account academics, I do well in school, so I guess that's smart. And if I'm being entirely truthful, I do consider myself to be fairly intelligent. So for the sake of this discussion, let's say I'm smart. So I am one of these "smart people" I was thinking about.
And here's what I was thinking: smart people always have something to say, and yet you often don't hear much from them. At least for smart people like me. And this is the thought process that led me to that conclusion:
When a question is asked, a smart people always have an answer. It may or may not be right or relevant, but an answer is usually to be found. It's in their nature. Because smart people are always seeking knowledge and understanding. They're always thinking, trying to figure out things. Asking theirselves questions, in order to find out answers. So when a question is asked by someone else, they likely have an answer. And if they don't have a ready answer, upon spending a moment in thought, they usually come up with something in their vast store of wonderings.
So...I'm one of those smart people. I usually seem to find an answer for everything, some conclusion to any given situation. So it's a given that in a discussion, or when a question is asked, that I will have some kind of answer/knowledge/idea/opinion that I can share. So I could spout things off forever. Theoretically.
And where does that leave everyone else? What about their opinions? Their ideas? Their perspectives? Their knowledge? If I were to always talk when I had something to say, nobody would get a chance to open their mouths. But they should. They deserve to have their chance to be heard. They know different things than I know. They have different experiences than I do.
So I sit back, close my mouth, and listen. The more people are around, the longer my mouth stays closed, and the more I practice opening my ears. In this way, people are allowed to let their voice be heard, and I further satisfy my hunger for knowledge and understanding.
When in a group discussion, there are two things that usually get me to open my mouth, besides directly asking me a question: 1.) nobody having anything to say, and 2.) me feeling that what I have to say is so important that it HAS to be shared, and so I will try my hardest to shove my way into the conversation. When neither one of those things happen, the result is what happened tonight in my Bible study, my mouth remaining largely closed.
So if you really want to talk to me, or more precisely, have me talk to you, and share what I have to say, talk to me alone. And be prepared for (and try to be comfortable with) awkward silences. Because another characteristic of the smart person is being lost in your head. So I often have to find my way out before I can speak.
And I do encourage you to do that. I really love one-on-one conversations. They're much more intimate. And I feel like I and the person I'm talking to are able to make a much more substantial connection. And until I change my habits in group interactions, they're one of the few chances I get to say much. And as content as I am to be quiet most of time, it's good to mix it up.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
"What are little girls made of?"
I think sometimes that I sound like a Hallmark greeting card. I definitely feel like one big Hallmark moment most of the time. Something like this....
Mom? I know I don't say it very often, but you were always my hero. When I was a little girl, I always wanted to grow up and be just like you. You've made me the woman I am today. You're the greatest mom anyone could ask for. I love you! *mom and daughter embrace and soak each other with tears*
I mean, how much more sappy can you get? Really? And how much better can you describe me? I live in the land of daisies and sunflowers, and daily drink in the sunshine and fresh springwater. Like the nursery rhyme goes, "sugar, spice and everything nice." That's what I seem to be made of.
Not only do I give it careful consideration before I post it, but I also analyze what I write, what I say on Facebook, what I tweet for the world to see, long after I throw it out for other eyes to consume. And so much of the time, somewhere during the process of conception to post-review, I think something along the lines of, "Wow. Disney should make me a castmember now. I sound like Giselle. I could make any kid who walks through those gates believe that Minnie Mouse really does live in that house, and Cinderella indeed does reside in that castle, and that the three of us are going to have tea tomorrow and solve all the world's problems before dinner."
Here are some examples of recent tweets from Twitter and status updates on Facebook. Pay attention to the subject matter, the tone, and the words I use:
But sometimes I'm pretty sure I've convinced myself that I live in a storybook. I smile at the simplest things. A few months ago, there was a guy at Wal-Mart who came by me pushing a buggy and making train sounds (chooo, chooo!) under his breath, and I'm pretty sure I smiled for at least half an hour. That one brief moment made my week. And in remembering it now, I am smiling again.
But perhaps even more telling, I also seem to come across many instances in which I have to be told that something is a problem. I'm going along feeling like everything's alright, and then someone comes in and says, "Well, that's not good," and I'm thinking, "Really? What's not good about it?" And once I am informed, I feel really dumb. Why did I not see it? Why in the world did I not think that living without running water for 13 months was a terrible thing? Of course it is. I'm just really dense. Here I am enjoying the fact that I can sing the song the village girl from Jungle Book sang about fetching water, and actually fetch water while I'm doing it, when instead I should be asking, "Why me?" and rueing each moment I spend carrying a 5-gallon bucket.
See? If that last bit doesn't make me sound like Cinderella, I don't know what does. Why do I not want to sound like I was raised in a storybook? I don't know. I love storybooks! And Disney movies. And children's music. And VeggieTales. And hearts. And rainbows. And flowers. And my mama and daddy. And little kids. So what's my problem?
My problem is I feel defensive. Because I don't like stereotypes. So I'm trying to fight a stereotype of complete, pure, positive, innocent, sweetness.
Because I also like the Haunted Mansion. And The Nightmare Before Christmas. And sarcasm. And heavy metal. And pirates.
But who cares what people think? And is it really so bad to be described as "sweet?" No. It's actually a good thing. I have spent much of my life far less depressed and dissatisfied than a lot of people. I'm just too sensitive. I have to get over all those times I was taunted with the word "perfect" as a child, and all the times people wouldn't talk to me in fear that I would look down on them.
I just need to be myself, rainbows, Jack Skellington, and all. And if I sound like a Hallmark greeting card one minute and then Severus Snape the next, so be it.
Not only do I give it careful consideration before I post it, but I also analyze what I write, what I say on Facebook, what I tweet for the world to see, long after I throw it out for other eyes to consume. And so much of the time, somewhere during the process of conception to post-review, I think something along the lines of, "Wow. Disney should make me a castmember now. I sound like Giselle. I could make any kid who walks through those gates believe that Minnie Mouse really does live in that house, and Cinderella indeed does reside in that castle, and that the three of us are going to have tea tomorrow and solve all the world's problems before dinner."
Here are some examples of recent tweets from Twitter and status updates on Facebook. Pay attention to the subject matter, the tone, and the words I use:
"Thanking God for the gift of his Holy Spirit. And for the body of those in Christ. I am truly blessed."
"Good Sunday morning, friends! Missing the Thrifty Inn Church, but happy to go back to Hope this morning."
"Facebook chatting with one of my camp kids. She just made my eyes misty. I miss them."
"Emily Lynn Harmon thinks Sunday is the greatest day."
"About to go to work with my daddy. I haven't done this in a long time. We're going to paint!"
"Emily Lynn Harmon is listening to children's music. <3"
"I was awoken this morning by a chorus of little voices saying, 'Emmy, get up! We're having pancakes!' :-)"
"Morning! It's a beautiful day! @leslo96 and company should be here this afternoon and get to stay until Friday. Can't wait to see them!"
"Have I mentioned how much I love my school? Because I am quite fond of it, and I thought you'd like to know."
And all those are what came after me censoring myself, trying to not sound completely like I was raised in a storybook."Good Sunday morning, friends! Missing the Thrifty Inn Church, but happy to go back to Hope this morning."
"Facebook chatting with one of my camp kids. She just made my eyes misty. I miss them."
"Emily Lynn Harmon thinks Sunday is the greatest day."
"About to go to work with my daddy. I haven't done this in a long time. We're going to paint!"
"Emily Lynn Harmon is listening to children's music. <3"
"I was awoken this morning by a chorus of little voices saying, 'Emmy, get up! We're having pancakes!' :-)"
"Morning! It's a beautiful day! @leslo96 and company should be here this afternoon and get to stay until Friday. Can't wait to see them!"
"Have I mentioned how much I love my school? Because I am quite fond of it, and I thought you'd like to know."
But sometimes I'm pretty sure I've convinced myself that I live in a storybook. I smile at the simplest things. A few months ago, there was a guy at Wal-Mart who came by me pushing a buggy and making train sounds (chooo, chooo!) under his breath, and I'm pretty sure I smiled for at least half an hour. That one brief moment made my week. And in remembering it now, I am smiling again.
But perhaps even more telling, I also seem to come across many instances in which I have to be told that something is a problem. I'm going along feeling like everything's alright, and then someone comes in and says, "Well, that's not good," and I'm thinking, "Really? What's not good about it?" And once I am informed, I feel really dumb. Why did I not see it? Why in the world did I not think that living without running water for 13 months was a terrible thing? Of course it is. I'm just really dense. Here I am enjoying the fact that I can sing the song the village girl from Jungle Book sang about fetching water, and actually fetch water while I'm doing it, when instead I should be asking, "Why me?" and rueing each moment I spend carrying a 5-gallon bucket.
See? If that last bit doesn't make me sound like Cinderella, I don't know what does. Why do I not want to sound like I was raised in a storybook? I don't know. I love storybooks! And Disney movies. And children's music. And VeggieTales. And hearts. And rainbows. And flowers. And my mama and daddy. And little kids. So what's my problem?
My problem is I feel defensive. Because I don't like stereotypes. So I'm trying to fight a stereotype of complete, pure, positive, innocent, sweetness.
Because I also like the Haunted Mansion. And The Nightmare Before Christmas. And sarcasm. And heavy metal. And pirates.
But who cares what people think? And is it really so bad to be described as "sweet?" No. It's actually a good thing. I have spent much of my life far less depressed and dissatisfied than a lot of people. I'm just too sensitive. I have to get over all those times I was taunted with the word "perfect" as a child, and all the times people wouldn't talk to me in fear that I would look down on them.
I just need to be myself, rainbows, Jack Skellington, and all. And if I sound like a Hallmark greeting card one minute and then Severus Snape the next, so be it.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
"People! People! Surely the Lord lives!"
I really like what I'm preparing to write about. It's painted on my bathroom door. And a really great downhere song called "Starspin" is based on it. The girls in my small group got to hear this during camp this summer. And I like it so much that I'm going to put it on my blog for all those in Internetland to read. And since I can sit here and think about what I'm saying and edit as I go, you might get the more complete version.
My favorite Psalm is the 19th one. Particularly the first four verses. Well, almost four verses. I tend to cut the fourth in half and not really talk about the rest of it. Not that it's not good. But it starts a new idea. Those first three and half verses in the NIV go like this:
"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world."
Without even thinking about what that may mean, I'd like this passage simply because of how beautiful it sounds. The word "majestic" comes to mind whenever I read it. But as beautiful as it sounds, the message I have found in it is even better.
What does the word "language" make you think of? I know what it makes me think of. Words. Whether they be words I can understand or not, doesn't matter, I just think of words. Because I am a word nerd. And I am studying English in a university. As well as trying to learn German. So words are my life. What words mean, where they came from, how they are spelled, in what context they are best used; all of those things I consider on a regular basis.
But language transcends words. At the root of language is communication. The use of words is simply one way we humans communicate. But there is a plethora of other methods of communication out there in the world.
The heavens, nature, all of creation, has a language. They don't speak or write words, but they communicate. The first time I really thought about that, I was in awe. That's a big concept for my limited mind. I'm still kinda blown away by it.
And what is it that creation is communicating? The glory of God. Day after day, night after night. They tell of nothing else. All the time. Never stopping. Wow.
I feel compelled to stop for a brief word lesson. "Glory" is a word that is used a lot, particularly in the realm of the Church, that I feel that a lot of people don't really understand. I know I didn't understand it for a long time. So I looked it up in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary and this is what I found: glory - 1. a reason for pride; 2. great beauty; 3. fame.
So when "the heavens declare the glory of God," they are showing all the reasons God has to be proud, how beautiful he is, and making him famous. Wow.
This got me to thinking about my own languages. What am I communicating? Most of the time...nothing important. I'm tweeting about something weird my hair is doing, or talking to my friends for an hour about a video we saw on YouTube. Or maybe even something obviously destructive. Like gossiping about someone. Or being disrespectful. Or rude. Or not caring for someone right in front of me. Just walking by when a friend is obviously in distress. Everything I say, everything I do, communicates something. And I want to be communicating the right thing.
Can you imagine, if we all told of the glory of God just half as much as the rest of creation does, what a difference that would make? How different we would be? Our outlooks on everything would change dramatically.
David, when he wrote this particular Psalm, had the same idea. After going through and enumerating all these things that glorify God - the heavens, the law, fear of the Lord - the last verse, verse 14, says this: "May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer."
Amen.
My favorite Psalm is the 19th one. Particularly the first four verses. Well, almost four verses. I tend to cut the fourth in half and not really talk about the rest of it. Not that it's not good. But it starts a new idea. Those first three and half verses in the NIV go like this:
"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world."
Without even thinking about what that may mean, I'd like this passage simply because of how beautiful it sounds. The word "majestic" comes to mind whenever I read it. But as beautiful as it sounds, the message I have found in it is even better.
What does the word "language" make you think of? I know what it makes me think of. Words. Whether they be words I can understand or not, doesn't matter, I just think of words. Because I am a word nerd. And I am studying English in a university. As well as trying to learn German. So words are my life. What words mean, where they came from, how they are spelled, in what context they are best used; all of those things I consider on a regular basis.
But language transcends words. At the root of language is communication. The use of words is simply one way we humans communicate. But there is a plethora of other methods of communication out there in the world.
The heavens, nature, all of creation, has a language. They don't speak or write words, but they communicate. The first time I really thought about that, I was in awe. That's a big concept for my limited mind. I'm still kinda blown away by it.
And what is it that creation is communicating? The glory of God. Day after day, night after night. They tell of nothing else. All the time. Never stopping. Wow.
I feel compelled to stop for a brief word lesson. "Glory" is a word that is used a lot, particularly in the realm of the Church, that I feel that a lot of people don't really understand. I know I didn't understand it for a long time. So I looked it up in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary and this is what I found: glory - 1. a reason for pride; 2. great beauty; 3. fame.
So when "the heavens declare the glory of God," they are showing all the reasons God has to be proud, how beautiful he is, and making him famous. Wow.
This got me to thinking about my own languages. What am I communicating? Most of the time...nothing important. I'm tweeting about something weird my hair is doing, or talking to my friends for an hour about a video we saw on YouTube. Or maybe even something obviously destructive. Like gossiping about someone. Or being disrespectful. Or rude. Or not caring for someone right in front of me. Just walking by when a friend is obviously in distress. Everything I say, everything I do, communicates something. And I want to be communicating the right thing.
Can you imagine, if we all told of the glory of God just half as much as the rest of creation does, what a difference that would make? How different we would be? Our outlooks on everything would change dramatically.
David, when he wrote this particular Psalm, had the same idea. After going through and enumerating all these things that glorify God - the heavens, the law, fear of the Lord - the last verse, verse 14, says this: "May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer."
Amen.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Greatest Story Ever Sung: Part One - All At War
Music is one of my favorite things in all of creation. I am also a big word nerd. Each of those things are powerful in and of themselves, but I think that when the two are paired, the result is one of the greatest things in the world.
Therefore, song lyrics obviously mean a lot to me. And so I want to share some of my more favored ones on my blog. And maybe a little bit about what I think about them. I'm hoping to do this on a regular basis. Because there are a lot. And I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy it.
I have chosen to call this "The Greatest Story Ever Sung." Because everything, no matter what it is, goes back to God. God is, and everything else is because of him. So whatever story a song may tell, it's always just a part of the story of the creator of everything. Even Old MacDonald. Where do you think all those animals came from? And who determined what sounds they were going to make? It was God.
When I started thinking about doing this, I thought to myself, "I can't start with a downhere song." Why? Because I guess it feels like it's too easy, and too obvious. Too predictable. "Of course Emily would start with a downhere song, because she's nuts." I won't say that I'm not nuts, but I will say that I do listen to so much more music. And many a song lyric not written by Jason Germain and/or Marc Martel has impacted me someway.
But with that being said, I'm starting with a downhere song. I can't help myself. This song is called "All At War."
"I'm learning to stand
The more that I fall down
It's the law of inversion
And it's all turned around
And I'm staggered by
The clash inside my soul
So purposed for good
But inclined for evil
It's justice and mercy
The old dichotomies
All along the frontlines of my heart
In both doubt and belief
The sinner and saint
The old arch enemies
All at war in me
All at war in me
I was born depraved
But created for the divine
With death in my bones
In my heart eternal life
I'd love for Eden
But I'd kill for Rome
I'm native in a land
That is not my home
It's justice and mercy
The old arch enemies
All along the frontlines of my heart
In both doubt and belief
The sinner and saint
The old arch enemies
All at war in me
All at war in me
You are the beginning
And you are the end
Into your great reversal
I am born again
A beautiful redemption
You leverage even sin
In me, your final victory
I know you'll win
Into light, from the shadows
Into life, from the grave
Into love, into love
It's justice and mercy
The old dichotomies
All along the frontlines of my heart
In both doubt and belief
The sinner and saint
The old arch enemies
All at war in me
All at war in me"
I have been nagged/intrigued/fascinated by the whole concept behind this song for a really long time. Dichotomies, opposties, are everywhere, coexisting even when it seems like they shouldn't be able to. And not only coexisting, but in many, if not all cases, depending on each other to even exist at all. It's so mind-boggling to me, that whenever I think about it I can't seem to find where to begin.
I could probably write a book on this subject, and still not cover everything. I did write a paper on this subject just last semester, in my Intro to Literary Studies class. I explored contradictions/dichotomies in Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. There were plenty. I actually opened the paper with the chorus to this song. It fit too well to pass up. And when I wrote to Jason Germain for his birthday, this is the song I talked about. So I've obviously given it a lot of thought.
For me, this nature of contradiction has been most striking in myself. If you've read anything I write for any period of time, you can tell that I am very introspective, so that shouldn't be a surprise. Study yourself for long enough, and you're bound to find something. It seems like every time I pinpoint something within myself, characterize myself in some way, I look at the opposite and it's always just as true as the first thing. Like how I tend to be a bit of a pushover, but am one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet in your life. The list could go on.
I wish I could wrap this up in a nice little package, provide an intelligent explanation that serves to make this all seem to make sense. But I can't. Because I have neither a nice package, nor an intelligent explanation. In all of my thinking, searching, wondering, the only thing I've been able to come up with, that I have had to use to satisfy myself, is that this is just one of those mysteries that I am never going to understand. My mind is too small. That won't stop me from thinking about it (I wouldn't be me if I did), but I just have to be content with continually searching and not fully understanding. Some things in life are like that. And honestly, I'm glad those things exist, because if I could understand everything, then what would make God so special? Nothing. He would be no greater than me. That's a scary thought.
But God is greater than me. And all this makes sense to him. He understands why. He knows how it all works. And for some reason he has chosen for all of life and existence to be a big oxymoron. If nothing else, it makes things interesting. And gives me something to think about. And makes for really good material for songwriters.
Therefore, song lyrics obviously mean a lot to me. And so I want to share some of my more favored ones on my blog. And maybe a little bit about what I think about them. I'm hoping to do this on a regular basis. Because there are a lot. And I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy it.
I have chosen to call this "The Greatest Story Ever Sung." Because everything, no matter what it is, goes back to God. God is, and everything else is because of him. So whatever story a song may tell, it's always just a part of the story of the creator of everything. Even Old MacDonald. Where do you think all those animals came from? And who determined what sounds they were going to make? It was God.
When I started thinking about doing this, I thought to myself, "I can't start with a downhere song." Why? Because I guess it feels like it's too easy, and too obvious. Too predictable. "Of course Emily would start with a downhere song, because she's nuts." I won't say that I'm not nuts, but I will say that I do listen to so much more music. And many a song lyric not written by Jason Germain and/or Marc Martel has impacted me someway.
But with that being said, I'm starting with a downhere song. I can't help myself. This song is called "All At War."
"I'm learning to stand
The more that I fall down
It's the law of inversion
And it's all turned around
And I'm staggered by
The clash inside my soul
So purposed for good
But inclined for evil
It's justice and mercy
The old dichotomies
All along the frontlines of my heart
In both doubt and belief
The sinner and saint
The old arch enemies
All at war in me
All at war in me
I was born depraved
But created for the divine
With death in my bones
In my heart eternal life
I'd love for Eden
But I'd kill for Rome
I'm native in a land
That is not my home
It's justice and mercy
The old arch enemies
All along the frontlines of my heart
In both doubt and belief
The sinner and saint
The old arch enemies
All at war in me
All at war in me
You are the beginning
And you are the end
Into your great reversal
I am born again
A beautiful redemption
You leverage even sin
In me, your final victory
I know you'll win
Into light, from the shadows
Into life, from the grave
Into love, into love
It's justice and mercy
The old dichotomies
All along the frontlines of my heart
In both doubt and belief
The sinner and saint
The old arch enemies
All at war in me
All at war in me"
I have been nagged/intrigued/fascinated by the whole concept behind this song for a really long time. Dichotomies, opposties, are everywhere, coexisting even when it seems like they shouldn't be able to. And not only coexisting, but in many, if not all cases, depending on each other to even exist at all. It's so mind-boggling to me, that whenever I think about it I can't seem to find where to begin.
I could probably write a book on this subject, and still not cover everything. I did write a paper on this subject just last semester, in my Intro to Literary Studies class. I explored contradictions/dichotomies in Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. There were plenty. I actually opened the paper with the chorus to this song. It fit too well to pass up. And when I wrote to Jason Germain for his birthday, this is the song I talked about. So I've obviously given it a lot of thought.
For me, this nature of contradiction has been most striking in myself. If you've read anything I write for any period of time, you can tell that I am very introspective, so that shouldn't be a surprise. Study yourself for long enough, and you're bound to find something. It seems like every time I pinpoint something within myself, characterize myself in some way, I look at the opposite and it's always just as true as the first thing. Like how I tend to be a bit of a pushover, but am one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet in your life. The list could go on.
I wish I could wrap this up in a nice little package, provide an intelligent explanation that serves to make this all seem to make sense. But I can't. Because I have neither a nice package, nor an intelligent explanation. In all of my thinking, searching, wondering, the only thing I've been able to come up with, that I have had to use to satisfy myself, is that this is just one of those mysteries that I am never going to understand. My mind is too small. That won't stop me from thinking about it (I wouldn't be me if I did), but I just have to be content with continually searching and not fully understanding. Some things in life are like that. And honestly, I'm glad those things exist, because if I could understand everything, then what would make God so special? Nothing. He would be no greater than me. That's a scary thought.
But God is greater than me. And all this makes sense to him. He understands why. He knows how it all works. And for some reason he has chosen for all of life and existence to be a big oxymoron. If nothing else, it makes things interesting. And gives me something to think about. And makes for really good material for songwriters.
Friday, July 17, 2009
That's good to know.
As is usual for me when I come out of a social experience, I have been analyzing myself and my behavior quite a bit this week.
I am so maddeningly quiet. (Whoa, just tried to read that out loud...can't quite get my mouth around the m-word.) I'm sure it's probably not as maddening to other people as it is to me. And to be honest, it usually doesn't bother me much. But there are times when I wonder why I can't open my mouth more often and do something beyond laugh. Or sing. I see all kinds of opportunities (after the fact) when I could have said something to enrich a conversation, or be encouraging to someone else, or share something that I think is worth people knowing.
I'm too wrapped up in my head. That's why I don't say anything. By the time words come to me to say, the moment when it would have been appropriate to say them has passed, and I guess I'm not too keen on constantly restarting conversations that were had 5 and a half minutes ago.
Never one to be content to overlook the positive, I feel that I must say there are benefits to this. I am a really good listener. I tend pick up on things people say in group conversations that is lost on most other ears amidst the chatter. And I'm very observant. Usually. I take in much more than I put out.
I think that's the biggest lesson I learned this weekend, if you want to look at life as being a learning experience, and I do. I take in so much from my environment and the people around me. I hear things, I see things, I gather information that I can ponder in my head, I soak in the beauty around me. But I feel like I don't offer much to anyone else. I just take all the time. It makes me feel bad. Because it makes me feel selfish.
I haven't worked out what to do about this yet. And I may never. But you can bet I'm going to think about it until I do. Or until God settles in my heart that it's not a problem.
I've also determined that it really is official that I can sing in front of just about anybody without a care in the world. At least, not a care enough to stop me. Last weekend, I found myself busting loose with people I had only met a few hours before. That's probably the only thing I will do with people I don't know.
I really do light up when I sing. I feel like I do internally, anyway. I'm not sure externally. But I have a feeling I do. Because as skilled as I seem to be at hiding what I'm really feeling, I don't think I'm that good.
I have also reconfirmed how much I enjoy being with people. As my friend Hannah said last weekend, I am a social introvert. Meaning that I love going out and surrounding myself with people and enjoying their company, but at the end of the day, I need to spend some time alone to process everything, regroup, and recharge my batteries, so to speak.
Which leads into my next observation...I spend too much time by myself. I do genuinely need to spend time alone, otherwise I have a breakdown. It has happened with even my closest friends. But I don't require quite as much alone time as I typically get. Therefore I need to find more excuses to see people. Especially since it's still summer, and I don't have a load of homework nagging at me.
I am so maddeningly quiet. (Whoa, just tried to read that out loud...can't quite get my mouth around the m-word.) I'm sure it's probably not as maddening to other people as it is to me. And to be honest, it usually doesn't bother me much. But there are times when I wonder why I can't open my mouth more often and do something beyond laugh. Or sing. I see all kinds of opportunities (after the fact) when I could have said something to enrich a conversation, or be encouraging to someone else, or share something that I think is worth people knowing.
I'm too wrapped up in my head. That's why I don't say anything. By the time words come to me to say, the moment when it would have been appropriate to say them has passed, and I guess I'm not too keen on constantly restarting conversations that were had 5 and a half minutes ago.
Never one to be content to overlook the positive, I feel that I must say there are benefits to this. I am a really good listener. I tend pick up on things people say in group conversations that is lost on most other ears amidst the chatter. And I'm very observant. Usually. I take in much more than I put out.
I think that's the biggest lesson I learned this weekend, if you want to look at life as being a learning experience, and I do. I take in so much from my environment and the people around me. I hear things, I see things, I gather information that I can ponder in my head, I soak in the beauty around me. But I feel like I don't offer much to anyone else. I just take all the time. It makes me feel bad. Because it makes me feel selfish.
I haven't worked out what to do about this yet. And I may never. But you can bet I'm going to think about it until I do. Or until God settles in my heart that it's not a problem.
I've also determined that it really is official that I can sing in front of just about anybody without a care in the world. At least, not a care enough to stop me. Last weekend, I found myself busting loose with people I had only met a few hours before. That's probably the only thing I will do with people I don't know.
I really do light up when I sing. I feel like I do internally, anyway. I'm not sure externally. But I have a feeling I do. Because as skilled as I seem to be at hiding what I'm really feeling, I don't think I'm that good.
I have also reconfirmed how much I enjoy being with people. As my friend Hannah said last weekend, I am a social introvert. Meaning that I love going out and surrounding myself with people and enjoying their company, but at the end of the day, I need to spend some time alone to process everything, regroup, and recharge my batteries, so to speak.
Which leads into my next observation...I spend too much time by myself. I do genuinely need to spend time alone, otherwise I have a breakdown. It has happened with even my closest friends. But I don't require quite as much alone time as I typically get. Therefore I need to find more excuses to see people. Especially since it's still summer, and I don't have a load of homework nagging at me.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Downhomiepalooza 2009!
Wow. It has been a long weekend. Yet short at the same time.
Downhomiepalooza 2009 is over. *sniff, sniff* Rather than focus on specific details of things that occurred (because I could type 'til tomorrow and still not have covered all the highlights), I think it appropriate to give a general recap and share my thoughts and feelings on the overall experience (because what else would I do on my blog but share my thoughts and feelings?).
Seeing that it was the first one, I can confidently say that it was the greatest downhomiepalooza ever. We laughed and laughed and laughed until we couldn't breathe and the cows came home. (We did actually see cows on Franklin Road.) There was much loud, raucous singing. (But when we broke into three-part harmony, it was slightly less loud and raucous, and a bit more awesome.) And there was much love shared between everyone in the group.
Aside from a person that I briefly met at a Jason Gray concert (and Jason Gray himself), this was basically the first time I have ever met in person someone(s) I have first talked to over the Internet. It was surprisingly unawkward. Everyone was comfortable with each other soon after meeting, and got along amazingly well. I was surprised. It was said several times over the weekend that it felt like family, and it really did. I rarely ever open up to people as quickly as I did with them. (Now, it can be argued that I could have opened up more, but for me, I did really well. Regardless of how much I opened up, I felt entirely comfortable, and that's saying something being surrounded by people you had just met. In the past, that would have terrified me.) I think it was the deep love of Christ that connected us all. Jesus was there the whole weekend, laughing at our ridiculousness. ;-)
I also got to meet a few of the people of downhere's label, Centricity. Jesus was there, too. They were so gracious and gave us so, so much. Not just physical things, but things like time, and letting us invade their personal space until late in the night. On my MySpace, I talk about how I like every artist I've heard on Centricity, and how unusual it is to be so captivated by a record label. Now I know why. These guys not only look for talent and put it out there for the public to hear, they look for heart. And sharing the message of Jesus is important to them. Just hearing them talk was so encouraging to me. They are officially amazing. Because we all know that nothing's official until I say it.
And of course, I also got to see the boys in the band again. They are why we were all there. I can basically repeat what I've said about everyone so far and say that those guys really do radiate Christ. Seeing them, I was reminded of why I like them so much. This whole, being-in-a-band, touring-the-world thing isn't about them gaining fame or accolades, it's about sharing Christ with everyone they come in contact with. And they have been doing it faithfully for 10 years now, despite many great hardships.
For me, this whole weekend was a beautiful picture of the body of Christ. I feel more and more blessed every day to be a part of it. The backs our downhomie t-shirts say it best, "It's more our homes and not our hearts 1,000 miles apart."
I can't wait to do it all over again! Centricity already invited us back, so there's no question it will happen! And I hope more people can come next time. The downhomie family can never be too big.
Downhomiepalooza 2009 is over. *sniff, sniff* Rather than focus on specific details of things that occurred (because I could type 'til tomorrow and still not have covered all the highlights), I think it appropriate to give a general recap and share my thoughts and feelings on the overall experience (because what else would I do on my blog but share my thoughts and feelings?).
Seeing that it was the first one, I can confidently say that it was the greatest downhomiepalooza ever. We laughed and laughed and laughed until we couldn't breathe and the cows came home. (We did actually see cows on Franklin Road.) There was much loud, raucous singing. (But when we broke into three-part harmony, it was slightly less loud and raucous, and a bit more awesome.) And there was much love shared between everyone in the group.
Aside from a person that I briefly met at a Jason Gray concert (and Jason Gray himself), this was basically the first time I have ever met in person someone(s) I have first talked to over the Internet. It was surprisingly unawkward. Everyone was comfortable with each other soon after meeting, and got along amazingly well. I was surprised. It was said several times over the weekend that it felt like family, and it really did. I rarely ever open up to people as quickly as I did with them. (Now, it can be argued that I could have opened up more, but for me, I did really well. Regardless of how much I opened up, I felt entirely comfortable, and that's saying something being surrounded by people you had just met. In the past, that would have terrified me.) I think it was the deep love of Christ that connected us all. Jesus was there the whole weekend, laughing at our ridiculousness. ;-)
I also got to meet a few of the people of downhere's label, Centricity. Jesus was there, too. They were so gracious and gave us so, so much. Not just physical things, but things like time, and letting us invade their personal space until late in the night. On my MySpace, I talk about how I like every artist I've heard on Centricity, and how unusual it is to be so captivated by a record label. Now I know why. These guys not only look for talent and put it out there for the public to hear, they look for heart. And sharing the message of Jesus is important to them. Just hearing them talk was so encouraging to me. They are officially amazing. Because we all know that nothing's official until I say it.
And of course, I also got to see the boys in the band again. They are why we were all there. I can basically repeat what I've said about everyone so far and say that those guys really do radiate Christ. Seeing them, I was reminded of why I like them so much. This whole, being-in-a-band, touring-the-world thing isn't about them gaining fame or accolades, it's about sharing Christ with everyone they come in contact with. And they have been doing it faithfully for 10 years now, despite many great hardships.
For me, this whole weekend was a beautiful picture of the body of Christ. I feel more and more blessed every day to be a part of it. The backs our downhomie t-shirts say it best, "It's more our homes and not our hearts 1,000 miles apart."
I can't wait to do it all over again! Centricity already invited us back, so there's no question it will happen! And I hope more people can come next time. The downhomie family can never be too big.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Watch out, Nashville!
Tomorrow, er...today..., I am driving up to Nashville for downhomiepalooza! What's downhomiepalooza, you ask? It is a gathering of fans of my favorite band, downhere. We are affectionately called downhomies, and the name downhomiepalooza was conceived as a name for this event. I think it brilliantly describes the insanity that is most likely to ensue, and actually already has, by the looks of some pictures I've seen on Facebook and updates from there and Twitter, from the out-of-towners who came from all over the place and are all staying together in the same hotel in Nashville. Madness!
I have been looking forward to this for months. And I am seriously glad that it's in Nashville and that I live so close, because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be going otherwise.
You can be sure that I will have lots to say once it is all over. But right now, I really need to try to get some sleep. I am in for a long, tiring day, and I need to be up in less than six hours. I'm counting on the excitement and expected fits of laughter to keep me running.
I have been looking forward to this for months. And I am seriously glad that it's in Nashville and that I live so close, because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be going otherwise.
You can be sure that I will have lots to say once it is all over. But right now, I really need to try to get some sleep. I am in for a long, tiring day, and I need to be up in less than six hours. I'm counting on the excitement and expected fits of laughter to keep me running.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
My not-so-good friend Sleep.
*Before I get to the topic at hand, I just had a wonderful chat with my dear friend, Brenna. We haven't seen each other in months and we just did some catching up. If things go as planned, we'll be seeing each other at the first of August, and I'm excited! Part of our conversation inspired this post, so, beside the fact that I'm tickled that I got to talk to her, that is why I mention her.*
Sleep and I have always had a weird relationship. From my earliest memories, I never wanted to go to bed. Even before I can remember. My mom has told me stories about how hard it was to get me to sleep. I fought it like it would kill me if I succumbed. Once I reached an age at which I was capable of being rational, I didn't fight it so much. I knew I needed to go to bed, but more than that, I knew I needed to obey my parents, and the number one priority in my mind growing up was to obey my parents. (Yeah, I was a weird kid. Quite the stick-in-the-mud.) But we were still not friends.
As I grew, it started getting harder for me to get to sleep. But I still turned out my lights in a timely manner every night, like a good little girl. I would just lie in the bed, staring into darkness, until the Sandman finally decided to come my way. It progressively got harder and harder for me to go to sleep, which made lying in the dark progressively more maddening. But I was disciplined, and despite going crazy, I contented myself with staring into darkness for at least an hour, usually more, every night.
Part of me, the part that intensely despised sleep and didn't care about going crazy, was perfectly fine with this. Who cared if I didn't sleep? I still got up when I needed to. It wasn't interfering with how I functioned. I got to have some super quiet, alone time every night. So really, other than going mad, there really was no drawback.
Once I "grew up," I lost my discipline, and decided to stay up, with the light on, and do things until I felt drowsy. Which was never. Or about any time after 3 AM. That was my freshman year of college. Between that and the million other things that happened during that time period, I got burnt out. Really, really burnt out. And for the first time in my life, I started thinking, "Why can't I go to sleep? I need to go to sleep!" I would cry at night, begging God to knock me out. How could I be so exhausted, yet not be able to sleep? I noticed the change in my attitude. I still wished deep down that I did not have to sleep. But I had come to realize just exactly how vital it was to my health, so I prayed for it consistently.
After that was when I took a year off from school, and I attempted to recover during that time. But I'm pretty sure I still haven't recovered fully. When I crashed that first year, I crashed hard, and I have had my head barely above water since then. During the two years since that most miserable time of my life, I would say that my sleeping habits are better overall. But still not anywhere near great. I still have the have the habits of an insomniac. Example A: as I'm typing this sentence, it's almost 1:30 AM. But it's summer, so that's to be expected. During my last school year, I managed to be in bed before midnight most nights. Because I was exhausted. And crashed every day. I became the Nap Queen. Even when I got a full night of sleep. I just wasn't able to keep up. And, not being a fan of sleep (which I still am not, even though I know how desperately I need it), I am also not a fan of naps. I have very ill feelings toward naps, to put it lightly. Not just because they involve sleep, but because they always make me feel terrible. I wake up feeling completely disoriented. But I couldn't seem to avoid them. (I still can't avoid them.) So that definitely did not (and still doesn't) make me happy.
The biggest question I have had over the years is, "How can I be so tired, and still manage to lie awake for hours?" All night, at times. It makes absolutely no sense. Like I said, my habits are slightly better, and I seem to be holding myself just barely above water, but I wonder sometimes about what my future is going to look like. If this coming school year looks anything like the one I just finished, I will start falling asleep in class at least once every other day, and will not be able to avoid a nap when I get home most days. And I will somehow make it through. But what about after school? I don't need to be falling asleep everyday when I'm at work, wherever work may be. But my body seems to think that night is when you stay awake and the day is when you should sleep. No. And how about when/if I have kids in the future? I don't need to fall asleep while they're discovering the box of crayons and proceeding to devour them (or any number of infinitely more terrible things that I don't want to think about). Getting sleep when you have kids is hard enough for people like my dad who can sleep on cue, I can only imagine how much harder it might be for insomniacs like me.
And there's also the health repercussions to consider. I can already tell that I have changed after my freshman year. I can't stay up all night like I used to and still be bright and alert the next day. If I stay up all night now, there is no me the next day. And I feel like my overall energy level is way lower than it was. I can't help but wonder what all might start failing in the not-so-distant future if I can't learn how to get some rest. At night. And not from 4 AM to noon, or while my professor is sharing important information I'll need for a test later.
Sleep, we need to learn how to get along. I need you. I wish that I didn't need you, but I do. And perhaps if I could somehow learn to not resent you, we might make some progress. Perhaps just tolerating you isn't enough.
Sleep and I have always had a weird relationship. From my earliest memories, I never wanted to go to bed. Even before I can remember. My mom has told me stories about how hard it was to get me to sleep. I fought it like it would kill me if I succumbed. Once I reached an age at which I was capable of being rational, I didn't fight it so much. I knew I needed to go to bed, but more than that, I knew I needed to obey my parents, and the number one priority in my mind growing up was to obey my parents. (Yeah, I was a weird kid. Quite the stick-in-the-mud.) But we were still not friends.
As I grew, it started getting harder for me to get to sleep. But I still turned out my lights in a timely manner every night, like a good little girl. I would just lie in the bed, staring into darkness, until the Sandman finally decided to come my way. It progressively got harder and harder for me to go to sleep, which made lying in the dark progressively more maddening. But I was disciplined, and despite going crazy, I contented myself with staring into darkness for at least an hour, usually more, every night.
Part of me, the part that intensely despised sleep and didn't care about going crazy, was perfectly fine with this. Who cared if I didn't sleep? I still got up when I needed to. It wasn't interfering with how I functioned. I got to have some super quiet, alone time every night. So really, other than going mad, there really was no drawback.
Once I "grew up," I lost my discipline, and decided to stay up, with the light on, and do things until I felt drowsy. Which was never. Or about any time after 3 AM. That was my freshman year of college. Between that and the million other things that happened during that time period, I got burnt out. Really, really burnt out. And for the first time in my life, I started thinking, "Why can't I go to sleep? I need to go to sleep!" I would cry at night, begging God to knock me out. How could I be so exhausted, yet not be able to sleep? I noticed the change in my attitude. I still wished deep down that I did not have to sleep. But I had come to realize just exactly how vital it was to my health, so I prayed for it consistently.
After that was when I took a year off from school, and I attempted to recover during that time. But I'm pretty sure I still haven't recovered fully. When I crashed that first year, I crashed hard, and I have had my head barely above water since then. During the two years since that most miserable time of my life, I would say that my sleeping habits are better overall. But still not anywhere near great. I still have the have the habits of an insomniac. Example A: as I'm typing this sentence, it's almost 1:30 AM. But it's summer, so that's to be expected. During my last school year, I managed to be in bed before midnight most nights. Because I was exhausted. And crashed every day. I became the Nap Queen. Even when I got a full night of sleep. I just wasn't able to keep up. And, not being a fan of sleep (which I still am not, even though I know how desperately I need it), I am also not a fan of naps. I have very ill feelings toward naps, to put it lightly. Not just because they involve sleep, but because they always make me feel terrible. I wake up feeling completely disoriented. But I couldn't seem to avoid them. (I still can't avoid them.) So that definitely did not (and still doesn't) make me happy.
The biggest question I have had over the years is, "How can I be so tired, and still manage to lie awake for hours?" All night, at times. It makes absolutely no sense. Like I said, my habits are slightly better, and I seem to be holding myself just barely above water, but I wonder sometimes about what my future is going to look like. If this coming school year looks anything like the one I just finished, I will start falling asleep in class at least once every other day, and will not be able to avoid a nap when I get home most days. And I will somehow make it through. But what about after school? I don't need to be falling asleep everyday when I'm at work, wherever work may be. But my body seems to think that night is when you stay awake and the day is when you should sleep. No. And how about when/if I have kids in the future? I don't need to fall asleep while they're discovering the box of crayons and proceeding to devour them (or any number of infinitely more terrible things that I don't want to think about). Getting sleep when you have kids is hard enough for people like my dad who can sleep on cue, I can only imagine how much harder it might be for insomniacs like me.
And there's also the health repercussions to consider. I can already tell that I have changed after my freshman year. I can't stay up all night like I used to and still be bright and alert the next day. If I stay up all night now, there is no me the next day. And I feel like my overall energy level is way lower than it was. I can't help but wonder what all might start failing in the not-so-distant future if I can't learn how to get some rest. At night. And not from 4 AM to noon, or while my professor is sharing important information I'll need for a test later.
Sleep, we need to learn how to get along. I need you. I wish that I didn't need you, but I do. And perhaps if I could somehow learn to not resent you, we might make some progress. Perhaps just tolerating you isn't enough.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
And your point is...?
I would not categorize myself as a sad person. I'm definitely not bubbly, but not sad. I've come to a place where I live with this inner contentedness that keeps me rooted and generally happy. Joyful, maybe.
I also would not categorize myself as being an emotional, dramatic person. I generally keep to myself and if there's ever anything bothering me, most people don't know about it. I have to be particularly distressed before I make my inner complaints known.
The more I examine myself, the more I question all that.
If you've kept up with my blog for any period of time, you have probably seen mention of how incessantly I cry. Most of the time, I just move on, but sometimes it really makes me wonder. What's the deal with all the tears? Am I miserable? No, I don't think so. I've been pretty miserable before, prior to when all this crying insanity started, and this doesn't feel like misery.
I'm starting to be convinced that I am just incredibly sensitive. To everything. And I mean everything. I am a bleeding heart. If I confessed right now to all, or even a portion, of the things that have made me cry in just the last several months, I fear that you may 1.) start to question my mental sanity, and/or 2.) immediately feel like you knew too much about me. So I will refrain for now, for your sake, more than mine.
And that's something else....what is the difference between my willingness to write/blog about what's going on in my head and heart, over just verbally sharing it with everyone I see face-to-face? Am I not being just as emotionally/dramatically inclined by typing out my feelings for the world to see? Or even more so, maybe?
I go back and forth about this all the time: what I should write on here, and what I shouldn't. Even now, I'm contemplating deleting this whole thing. Why? Because I'm getting visions in my head of the stereotypical quiet, socially-inept, loner, starving for attention, who has no friends and no one to talk to besides her computer screen and a couple other people just like her that she "met" online, and who never writes about anything but her current emotional woes over her cat who seems to be acting strangely lately. (Wow, that's one of the longest, most awkward sentences I've written in my life.) I don't want to be her.
But as soon that worry starts to overcome me I think, "Worry not, Emily. You could never be her." 1.) I don't like cats (or any animal for that matter), so I would never blog about feline woes, other than lamenting that there's one in my house. 2.) I talk to people. Sometimes. When I'm feeling particularly verbose. (Which for me, equals saying about two lengthy sentences.) No worries there. 3.) I have friends. I just spent two weeks with some of my closest friends. At least, I think they're my friends. Meaning, I definitely have friendly feelings toward them, and I think they feel the same toward me. They seem to like me. Yeah. So no reason to fret there, either.
I just need to chill, quit being so being so paranoid. Just because I'm inclined to keep my mouth shut doesn't mean there's something wrong with me. I've found a different way to communicate, and while I don't need to hide behind that and never talk to anyone, there's no problem with it.
Anyway....I got way off topic...assuming that I even had a topic in the first place. What have we learned? 1.) I am an emotional person, just in a different way, for different reasons; 2.) I have no fear of becoming a loner cat-lady, with no friends; 3.) I like making numbered lists; 4.) I talk to myself in the third person; and 5.) I'm rather inclined to rambling. I like learning things, and I like for things to have a point, so this is good. Maybe there's something salvageable in this blabbering mess.
I also would not categorize myself as being an emotional, dramatic person. I generally keep to myself and if there's ever anything bothering me, most people don't know about it. I have to be particularly distressed before I make my inner complaints known.
The more I examine myself, the more I question all that.
If you've kept up with my blog for any period of time, you have probably seen mention of how incessantly I cry. Most of the time, I just move on, but sometimes it really makes me wonder. What's the deal with all the tears? Am I miserable? No, I don't think so. I've been pretty miserable before, prior to when all this crying insanity started, and this doesn't feel like misery.
I'm starting to be convinced that I am just incredibly sensitive. To everything. And I mean everything. I am a bleeding heart. If I confessed right now to all, or even a portion, of the things that have made me cry in just the last several months, I fear that you may 1.) start to question my mental sanity, and/or 2.) immediately feel like you knew too much about me. So I will refrain for now, for your sake, more than mine.
And that's something else....what is the difference between my willingness to write/blog about what's going on in my head and heart, over just verbally sharing it with everyone I see face-to-face? Am I not being just as emotionally/dramatically inclined by typing out my feelings for the world to see? Or even more so, maybe?
I go back and forth about this all the time: what I should write on here, and what I shouldn't. Even now, I'm contemplating deleting this whole thing. Why? Because I'm getting visions in my head of the stereotypical quiet, socially-inept, loner, starving for attention, who has no friends and no one to talk to besides her computer screen and a couple other people just like her that she "met" online, and who never writes about anything but her current emotional woes over her cat who seems to be acting strangely lately. (Wow, that's one of the longest, most awkward sentences I've written in my life.) I don't want to be her.
But as soon that worry starts to overcome me I think, "Worry not, Emily. You could never be her." 1.) I don't like cats (or any animal for that matter), so I would never blog about feline woes, other than lamenting that there's one in my house. 2.) I talk to people. Sometimes. When I'm feeling particularly verbose. (Which for me, equals saying about two lengthy sentences.) No worries there. 3.) I have friends. I just spent two weeks with some of my closest friends. At least, I think they're my friends. Meaning, I definitely have friendly feelings toward them, and I think they feel the same toward me. They seem to like me. Yeah. So no reason to fret there, either.
I just need to chill, quit being so being so paranoid. Just because I'm inclined to keep my mouth shut doesn't mean there's something wrong with me. I've found a different way to communicate, and while I don't need to hide behind that and never talk to anyone, there's no problem with it.
Anyway....I got way off topic...assuming that I even had a topic in the first place. What have we learned? 1.) I am an emotional person, just in a different way, for different reasons; 2.) I have no fear of becoming a loner cat-lady, with no friends; 3.) I like making numbered lists; 4.) I talk to myself in the third person; and 5.) I'm rather inclined to rambling. I like learning things, and I like for things to have a point, so this is good. Maybe there's something salvageable in this blabbering mess.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
"This is serious business."
This is something I've been thinking about for a while. It's nothing revolutionary, just something that hit me one day that has hit a million other people before. But we all have our journey of growing and learning, and each lesson is still just as true and valid, no matter when someone learns it. Anyway...on to the point....if I can figure out how to present the point....bluntly, I think.
This following Jesus thing is serious business. And I don't say that to make it seem like drudgery. Just because something's serious, doesn't mean it's a dull, tiresome chore. But when somebody says they're going to follow Jesus, it shouldn't be taken lightly.
In other areas of life, people make commitments, pledges, promises, and manage to follow through. And Jesus is so much bigger than anything else. But so much of the time, people who say they choose to follow Christ don't actually live like it. And I'm not singling anyone out, nor am I saying that I alone have it all right. I include myself in the "people." So this is as much for me as for anyone else.
And I'm not trying to be legalistic or imply that anybody can do anything to find favor with God or anything of the sort. God doesn't love us for what we do. He doesn't save us because we manage to do something to please him. We don't get to spend all of eternity with him because we do the most good deeds. This has nothing to do with salvation or pleasing God, because nothing we do can save us or affect how God sees or thinks of us.
Jesus did the ultimate thing that anyone could do for us. He died to break the power of sin and came back to life so that we can have life. If somebody else does something good for you, don't you usually try to at least acknowledge it and show them respect for what they did. So even more so we should do the same with Jesus.
In addition to that, God knows how things work. He knows what's good for all of us and what's not-so-good for all of us. So when he says, "Hey, this isn't such a good idea," then we should pay attention, and heed his wisdom.
That's what "the Christian life" is about. Not that we're trying to earn something, but that good exists and it is worthy of us striving toward it. Or more to the point, Jesus is worthy of us striving after him.
But no pressure! Remember, God's not going to love us any more or any less. We will fall short, but his grace is abundant. So when you mess up, don't get stuck in a rut, because it's not about what you do! Even so, this is still serious business.
I thought about this a lot while I was at camp, because I hoped that all of us as a staff, through what we said and did, showed those kids that we take following Jesus seriously. Again, not because he's going to abandon us if we don't, but because he doesn't abandon us. Ever.
I started thinking about this a while back when I started getting this "I'm all alone feeling," which is never true. Regardless of truth, though, I was feeling like I was the only one around fighting for goodness, purity, righteousness and such. I'm not, of course, and in reality I don't fight for it as much as I should. But that was the feeling, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who has felt that way. Showing that we could all do a better job at being faithful in following Christ.
So if you're reading this (which, I'm pretty sure a few people usually read what I write), let this be a reminder to you, as well as encouragement. This is serious, but not because you have to do something for God to care about you. He already does, and that won't change. We just need to keep focused on Jesus and he will give us all the strength and guidance we need to live our lives.
I'm sure this is incomplete. I hope it's not too scattered. I know my brain is scattered and what I write usually resembles what I think. Bottom line, remember the motivation behind what you do and where your strength comes from. And when that's in focus, "doing the right thing" is much less of a torturous battle.
P.S. - Bonus points if anyone can tell me what I am quoting in the title.
This following Jesus thing is serious business. And I don't say that to make it seem like drudgery. Just because something's serious, doesn't mean it's a dull, tiresome chore. But when somebody says they're going to follow Jesus, it shouldn't be taken lightly.
In other areas of life, people make commitments, pledges, promises, and manage to follow through. And Jesus is so much bigger than anything else. But so much of the time, people who say they choose to follow Christ don't actually live like it. And I'm not singling anyone out, nor am I saying that I alone have it all right. I include myself in the "people." So this is as much for me as for anyone else.
And I'm not trying to be legalistic or imply that anybody can do anything to find favor with God or anything of the sort. God doesn't love us for what we do. He doesn't save us because we manage to do something to please him. We don't get to spend all of eternity with him because we do the most good deeds. This has nothing to do with salvation or pleasing God, because nothing we do can save us or affect how God sees or thinks of us.
Jesus did the ultimate thing that anyone could do for us. He died to break the power of sin and came back to life so that we can have life. If somebody else does something good for you, don't you usually try to at least acknowledge it and show them respect for what they did. So even more so we should do the same with Jesus.
In addition to that, God knows how things work. He knows what's good for all of us and what's not-so-good for all of us. So when he says, "Hey, this isn't such a good idea," then we should pay attention, and heed his wisdom.
That's what "the Christian life" is about. Not that we're trying to earn something, but that good exists and it is worthy of us striving toward it. Or more to the point, Jesus is worthy of us striving after him.
But no pressure! Remember, God's not going to love us any more or any less. We will fall short, but his grace is abundant. So when you mess up, don't get stuck in a rut, because it's not about what you do! Even so, this is still serious business.
I thought about this a lot while I was at camp, because I hoped that all of us as a staff, through what we said and did, showed those kids that we take following Jesus seriously. Again, not because he's going to abandon us if we don't, but because he doesn't abandon us. Ever.
I started thinking about this a while back when I started getting this "I'm all alone feeling," which is never true. Regardless of truth, though, I was feeling like I was the only one around fighting for goodness, purity, righteousness and such. I'm not, of course, and in reality I don't fight for it as much as I should. But that was the feeling, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who has felt that way. Showing that we could all do a better job at being faithful in following Christ.
So if you're reading this (which, I'm pretty sure a few people usually read what I write), let this be a reminder to you, as well as encouragement. This is serious, but not because you have to do something for God to care about you. He already does, and that won't change. We just need to keep focused on Jesus and he will give us all the strength and guidance we need to live our lives.
I'm sure this is incomplete. I hope it's not too scattered. I know my brain is scattered and what I write usually resembles what I think. Bottom line, remember the motivation behind what you do and where your strength comes from. And when that's in focus, "doing the right thing" is much less of a torturous battle.
P.S. - Bonus points if anyone can tell me what I am quoting in the title.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Camp Formosa 2009
Here are the details -happenings at camp this year and my thoughts on the subject- that I said I might elaborate on in my last post.
Like I said last time, both weeks of camp this year were great. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this year was particularly good. When you get a big group of people together, drama and ill feelings and things of that nature, are likely to abound. And that has held true in years past. But this year, the drama ratio, it seemed to me, was way down. And people seemed to get along a lot better. Especially at junior camp. The staff all seemed to work together really well, and when the people you are working with get along, and you get along with them as well, it makes things so much nicer. And easier. Now don't get me wrong, not everything was peachy keen 100% of the time, but nothing in any situation is ever peachy keen 100% of the time. With that in mind, things turned out pretty well.
I think one of the reasons the staff got along so well in the working environment is friendship. Most of us have known each other for years and are friends outside of camp. The friendship amongst us has been there in the past, but it seems to have deepened. I may be way off on that assessment, but that's what I perceived. And it was, and still is, very encouraging to me. Everyone of those people that was at that camp during the two weeks, I love dearly. Like I mentioned in my last post, I am thoroughly convinced that I have the greatest friends and family (I am related to some of them, after all) ever. I am also convinced that the body of Christ is one of God's greatest blessings. I can't wait until I can see all of them again.
This is a camp for kids, and there were plenty of kids there both weeks, so I suppose I should mention them, too. ;-) We had some great kids. I wasn't sure what I was going to be doing either week, so when I ended up helping in the music class the first week, I was pleasantly surprised. That was right up my alley, and so much fun. I wore myself out doing it, because I was dancing around for three hours straight every morning, but I still had a blast. What was the best for me was when the kids who were totally not interested finally caught this spark in their eye and opened their mouths, or *gasp*, did hand motions. Whenever those kids engaged, even if it was for a few brief seconds, I wanted to jump for joy (and coincidentally, we actually sang a song about jumping for joy, so it would have been entirely appropriate).
During the second week, besides running around and doing whatever I could and just being there to hang out with the kids and keep an eye on things, I led a small group with one of my cousins every night. I love small groups. They are very conducive to discussions and really helped me to start opening up when I was younger. They still help me to open up. I felt really good about our group all week. The girls were great and I was happy about how quickly they seemed to open up. Besides that, what excited me was the fact that I was actually able to lead those girls and say things that engaged them and I didn't just sit there like a fly on the wall and let my cousin do everything. Leading a small group may not seem like a big deal, but a few years ago, I wouldn't have thought that I would be capable of such a thing, due to the fact that I am not inclined to talk much of the time, nor am skilled in that area, and tend to feel like everything I do say does not relate to anyone at all. It just goes to show that it's not about me and what I can do, but what God can do. Even through me.
Those are just a couple of highlights. Another one was when a girl came up to me and said with a smile on her face, "I just got saved." I'm still excited about that one. Oh, and on the last day of the second week, my brother and I sang the downhere song "Great Are You" a capella style. I have been dying to sing a downhere song for ages. And that one was the perfect one. It was a last minute decision, so had we planned ahead we might have been able to procure some other instrumentation, at least a guitar. But it worked, I thought. I liked the simplicity. Simplicity fits nicely with that song.
I could go on and on about all kinds of things that happened, but I'll attempt to avoid rambling instead. I definitely can't wait to get back to that place. I'm hoping that this year I'll be able to make it to more than just one retreat between now and next summer. And I'm also hoping that I'll get to spend some time with at least some of the fantastic friends I have there outside of the camp environment. Maybe gas prices will plummet. And then I can run over to Arkansas much more frequently. I'm optimistic. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. I definitely don't.
P.S. - I mentioned a newly added TV to my bedroom in my last post and how I hoped I wouldn't start watching it a lot. I am happy to say, that I haven't watched it yet. So apparently I really am just as not interested in the TV as I thought I was, and I wasn't just making it up because it was easy to say because I didn't have a TV around to watch all the time. Good to know. Now if I can somehow be just a little less interested in the computer....
Like I said last time, both weeks of camp this year were great. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this year was particularly good. When you get a big group of people together, drama and ill feelings and things of that nature, are likely to abound. And that has held true in years past. But this year, the drama ratio, it seemed to me, was way down. And people seemed to get along a lot better. Especially at junior camp. The staff all seemed to work together really well, and when the people you are working with get along, and you get along with them as well, it makes things so much nicer. And easier. Now don't get me wrong, not everything was peachy keen 100% of the time, but nothing in any situation is ever peachy keen 100% of the time. With that in mind, things turned out pretty well.
I think one of the reasons the staff got along so well in the working environment is friendship. Most of us have known each other for years and are friends outside of camp. The friendship amongst us has been there in the past, but it seems to have deepened. I may be way off on that assessment, but that's what I perceived. And it was, and still is, very encouraging to me. Everyone of those people that was at that camp during the two weeks, I love dearly. Like I mentioned in my last post, I am thoroughly convinced that I have the greatest friends and family (I am related to some of them, after all) ever. I am also convinced that the body of Christ is one of God's greatest blessings. I can't wait until I can see all of them again.
This is a camp for kids, and there were plenty of kids there both weeks, so I suppose I should mention them, too. ;-) We had some great kids. I wasn't sure what I was going to be doing either week, so when I ended up helping in the music class the first week, I was pleasantly surprised. That was right up my alley, and so much fun. I wore myself out doing it, because I was dancing around for three hours straight every morning, but I still had a blast. What was the best for me was when the kids who were totally not interested finally caught this spark in their eye and opened their mouths, or *gasp*, did hand motions. Whenever those kids engaged, even if it was for a few brief seconds, I wanted to jump for joy (and coincidentally, we actually sang a song about jumping for joy, so it would have been entirely appropriate).
During the second week, besides running around and doing whatever I could and just being there to hang out with the kids and keep an eye on things, I led a small group with one of my cousins every night. I love small groups. They are very conducive to discussions and really helped me to start opening up when I was younger. They still help me to open up. I felt really good about our group all week. The girls were great and I was happy about how quickly they seemed to open up. Besides that, what excited me was the fact that I was actually able to lead those girls and say things that engaged them and I didn't just sit there like a fly on the wall and let my cousin do everything. Leading a small group may not seem like a big deal, but a few years ago, I wouldn't have thought that I would be capable of such a thing, due to the fact that I am not inclined to talk much of the time, nor am skilled in that area, and tend to feel like everything I do say does not relate to anyone at all. It just goes to show that it's not about me and what I can do, but what God can do. Even through me.
Those are just a couple of highlights. Another one was when a girl came up to me and said with a smile on her face, "I just got saved." I'm still excited about that one. Oh, and on the last day of the second week, my brother and I sang the downhere song "Great Are You" a capella style. I have been dying to sing a downhere song for ages. And that one was the perfect one. It was a last minute decision, so had we planned ahead we might have been able to procure some other instrumentation, at least a guitar. But it worked, I thought. I liked the simplicity. Simplicity fits nicely with that song.
I could go on and on about all kinds of things that happened, but I'll attempt to avoid rambling instead. I definitely can't wait to get back to that place. I'm hoping that this year I'll be able to make it to more than just one retreat between now and next summer. And I'm also hoping that I'll get to spend some time with at least some of the fantastic friends I have there outside of the camp environment. Maybe gas prices will plummet. And then I can run over to Arkansas much more frequently. I'm optimistic. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. I definitely don't.
P.S. - I mentioned a newly added TV to my bedroom in my last post and how I hoped I wouldn't start watching it a lot. I am happy to say, that I haven't watched it yet. So apparently I really am just as not interested in the TV as I thought I was, and I wasn't just making it up because it was easy to say because I didn't have a TV around to watch all the time. Good to know. Now if I can somehow be just a little less interested in the computer....
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