I've been walking around, spaced out, with my back turned to the Lord for quite some time now. I think it began in January... No, it was before that. Even in Japan, I think that although I was walking toward Him, my head was turned the other way (if you can picture that), screwed on backwards, whatever you want to call it (yes, it was very uncomfortable and yeah, many times I didn't know where I was going). This week, I decided to turn back. Sunday, I took my first glance (behind the left shoulder), just to make sure. And I saw Him there. I knew He'd be there, but I didn't get that "why are you there? why are you always there?? aaaaaharhgafblah just leave me be" (my rendition of Job 7:17-19) feeling, the one where you sort of shoo away with your arms and hands and kick with your legs and feet. Instead, a feeling of quiet resignation, submission. "Yeah, I'm ready..."
It didn't come as an epiphany, a huge realization, or a bonk on the head. It just came and I just turned. It came as I was leaving one service to go to another, walking to the T - it was a thought, silent and clear -
I didn't get what I want.
That's what it essentially came down to. I turned my back on Him because He didn't give me what I wanted. Pretty immature, huh? The past year I shared this reason and that as to why I was struggling: I thought of it as a combination or culmination of all things that had recently happened and in years past. But as I deconstructed I saw that I myself laid at the foundation of my disatisfaction with the Lord. Maybe it's a repercussion of being the youngest of two - Brain's words - "Quit your whining!" - rang all too true, quite poignant although taken out of context. Underneath this "wise" 24 year-old is a bratty, selfish kid who got so caught up in her own stuff that she forgot who God is, what place He holds. I was disgruntled for not getting my piece of cake and I let that feeling stew until I found myself hesitant, fearful to go back, separated, at a distance, displaced in His house and skeptical of His family... How quickly I forgot what I learned that night at Gusto with Soo and Shally - that the Lord never promised me so many of the things I held on to. What He really promises is in His Word. And I was reminded of this again as an excerpt from Narnia was preached to me -
"Are you thirsty?" said the lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the lion.
"May I - could I - would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience. The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to - do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the lion.
- and that night in the bathroom thinking about Job and how what I went through is beans (dude, not even beans) compared to what He endured and yet his eyes remained fixed while mine wandered all over the place. All those times where I told myself that I'd never deny Christ, but like Peter jumping ship at the first sight of rough waters. How foolish to think that strong meant self-reliance, independence
But Sunday, for some reason I accepted what was given to me rather than ask question after question and turn the blame on Him for things that I had wanted, asked for, and done (I think someone was praying for me, or, simply grace?). Only two days before as I awkwardly waited for praise to start, I scribbled in my notebook "Lord, how can I sing you praise when I am feeling like this? You remind me that it's not about me, my condition, the state of my heart... It's about you. But Lord, what if I don't - or can't - believe with my heart and all of me that the words I sing are true? ... ... What do I do? Please help me Lord. What do I do? Is that what it means to take a step of faith? To sing empty words and hope that my heart will be changed? Hope that something magical will happen? Or, hope that nothing will happen but that You would be glorified? That you would be pleased with a trying heart..." And now, this.
I don't see the year or so I spent in my head as time wasted. Yeah, in a way it's unfortunate and I do wish that certain happenings had been more meaningful to me, more heart-friendly, made a deeper impression. But they didn't. That's just where I was, where I'm trying to get out of. I walked around in a daze with the world and people moving around me but with nothing sticking, thinking about everything while trying to remain unaffected by it all, and although I knew that real strength is coming back after being hurt, I wanted to choose to be superficially strong by walking away from it all, tears in eyes but head held high, extra careful not to step where I stepped before, careful not to make the same mistakes twice (remembering what Leslor always says: "hurt me once, shame on you. hurt me twice, shame on me!), careful not to fall. Somewhere along the way, while I was thinking about all this strength stuff, I remember this thought entering my brain: "duh, of course true strength isn't walking away. who has to have the greatest strength? God. and at what point did He exemplify this? on the cross. yeah, you're hurt, but who was most hurt? Christ. Did Christ walk away when He was most hurt by His Father? no. THAT Jenn, is real strength. being hurt, knowing you'll be hurt, knowing it will hurt, but going - doing it - anyway. you have your scars, but you are all the more resilient, glorious" At that time, I shooed that reminder away as well. I didn't want to hear it. And as I shooed away, what kept coming back were all the things I had walked away from, a lot of regret.
I remember as 2004 came to a close telling myself and others that "2005 is going to be great. 2004 sucked, so 2005... 2005 is my year. 2005 is going to be great." and I remember not even a month ago telling Goot over the phone, "2004 sucked. so did 2005. i have no hope for 2006, so 2007 - that's my year! 2007, here i come!" and as I said those words, somewhere in the back of my mind someone said, "Jenn, the year isn't over...!" hm, maybe it was Goot. or God? but still, even though September, October, and November are always the best months, I had little hope. now, I think, Maybe 2006 won't be so bad? This is where the real strength kicks in.
it's beautiful out,
there are many things I miss
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
i don't get it
I keep turning things over and over again in my head
but nothing seems to make sense.
(but, Romans 5 / e's 3/22 / dates / Millions)
this world sucks bungholes. i'm ready for heaven. peon -- let's make a deal: you push me over the edge and i'll grab your hand while i'm falling
but nothing seems to make sense.
(but, Romans 5 / e's 3/22 / dates / Millions)
this world sucks bungholes. i'm ready for heaven. peon -- let's make a deal: you push me over the edge and i'll grab your hand while i'm falling
Friday, March 18, 2005
update
God is good. The past three months have been unexpected, difficult at times, but Excellent. It's amazing how God plans things, how He has planned my life and yours (the history of the world), from the small to the large, every moment, every thought, every realization. Yet, I have taken part in every piece of it, have felt every thing, have made my own choices, good and bad. There are things I regret, things I wish had turned out differently, but I have peace. As Youmie said again and again in her praise report, praise God. Praise God. I may whine, complain, rant, cry, be unhappy angry or bitter, but at the end of it all, all I can say is: praise God, for, my life.
My thoughts have been floating for weeks now. Everything affects me, but nothing seems to stick. Things seem to be left only partially processed in my brain. I feel, or have felt, like this: "It’s nice, these moments tiny and extended that registered as cool, awesome, bad. They do jangle around. But they've been been taken out of context, reduced to quaint memories or unfortunate afterthoughts. There’s no resonance, does that make sense? It could be just me. I think it is. I dwell on the most trivial things and can't stop meting out blame for things I regret. Nothing positive keeps very long, and even the negative are tempered into faultfinding and incessant whining rather than say learning through experience." (from Boo)
Things that have jangled but now are beginning to resonate are: my talk with Pastor Joshua on Jacob & Laban's sheep and learning about God's greater plan despite the deceitfulness and manipulations of people and having this conversation come at the most opportune time when I struggled with my own manipulations despite my being Christian and finally being comforted, topics discussed in Membership Class, the hospitality of my pastor and continued support, Romans 2:28-29 "A man is not a Jew if he is only one outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical. No, a man is a Jew if he is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code. Such a man's praise is not from men, but from God.", certain songs, certain xanga entries, chul ee's prayer that love would not be some sort of tingly feeling but that we would come to know and experience true Love, chul ee's email, boo's email, victoria's email, eunice's email, debbie, my small group, my church, the way I fiercly love my sister, Pastor Bob, things shared during prayer meetings, the generosity of my podmates Jon Daniel Jennifer and Rebecca and other co-workers, relationships and relationship building, observing people and couples, being able to watch Mitch Hedberg with Les, being able to see Ben Lee live and in person right there less than a foot away with Sue, continuous emails from Les & Goot, God answering my prayer for a support group and supporters responding in such positive ways, Ann's card, Les' advice point of view and words of encouragement "you're fabulous!", my prayers for a changed heart and my discombobulated prayer time, drinking, wondering if my sister loves me half as much as I love her, wondering if my parents love me half as much as they love my sister, knowing that my family cares despite myself, people I have met and run into, my commute, iming with Dinah and her allowing me to beat down certain topics of conversation to the bone, the peon's struggles, anice's calls, comments left on my xanga and how God connects, excerpts from the autobiography of Malcom X today's being "I don't care how nice one is to you; the thing you must always remember is that almost never does he really see you as he sees himself, as he sees his own kind. He may stand with you through thin, but not thick; when the chips are down, you'll find that as fixed in him as his bone structure is his sometimes subconcious conviction that he's better than anybody black." and being reminded of when Albert shared something similar after returning from Mississippi for VOCM and realizing again that I am condescending too many of the times, bears shoelaces and pizza, Houston's, hymns, communion and loving the OPC, reading through old poems, being consumed by worldly desires situations thoughts, really listening to the cd that Brian gave me and being blessed by the songs - Ezekiel "to hear more than echoes of your voice to have more than traces of your love to feel your heart much more than my own...you take my mind away form former things to dwell onf the things of new for you've made a way for me", the inability to hear my voice in the things I have written, being asked if I'm excited for Japan and being unable to answer.
there are many things and people i have left out
I'm still floating, but these things are real. Every day there is more and more I don't understand, but I am constantly being reminded that the truth and transforming ability of the gospel is real. I started to forget, disbelieve. But I haven't been let go. God's blessings are real, they take many forms and shapes. I feel like I'm beginning again (for the umpteenth time) -- discovering sin, deconstructing, rebuilding, learning to rebuild, reassessing, remembering, etc. It's a difficult process, but Excellent and well worth it.
I got love. can't touch that
My thoughts have been floating for weeks now. Everything affects me, but nothing seems to stick. Things seem to be left only partially processed in my brain. I feel, or have felt, like this: "It’s nice, these moments tiny and extended that registered as cool, awesome, bad. They do jangle around. But they've been been taken out of context, reduced to quaint memories or unfortunate afterthoughts. There’s no resonance, does that make sense? It could be just me. I think it is. I dwell on the most trivial things and can't stop meting out blame for things I regret. Nothing positive keeps very long, and even the negative are tempered into faultfinding and incessant whining rather than say learning through experience." (from Boo)
Things that have jangled but now are beginning to resonate are: my talk with Pastor Joshua on Jacob & Laban's sheep and learning about God's greater plan despite the deceitfulness and manipulations of people and having this conversation come at the most opportune time when I struggled with my own manipulations despite my being Christian and finally being comforted, topics discussed in Membership Class, the hospitality of my pastor and continued support, Romans 2:28-29 "A man is not a Jew if he is only one outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical. No, a man is a Jew if he is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code. Such a man's praise is not from men, but from God.", certain songs, certain xanga entries, chul ee's prayer that love would not be some sort of tingly feeling but that we would come to know and experience true Love, chul ee's email, boo's email, victoria's email, eunice's email, debbie, my small group, my church, the way I fiercly love my sister, Pastor Bob, things shared during prayer meetings, the generosity of my podmates Jon Daniel Jennifer and Rebecca and other co-workers, relationships and relationship building, observing people and couples, being able to watch Mitch Hedberg with Les, being able to see Ben Lee live and in person right there less than a foot away with Sue, continuous emails from Les & Goot, God answering my prayer for a support group and supporters responding in such positive ways, Ann's card, Les' advice point of view and words of encouragement "you're fabulous!", my prayers for a changed heart and my discombobulated prayer time, drinking, wondering if my sister loves me half as much as I love her, wondering if my parents love me half as much as they love my sister, knowing that my family cares despite myself, people I have met and run into, my commute, iming with Dinah and her allowing me to beat down certain topics of conversation to the bone, the peon's struggles, anice's calls, comments left on my xanga and how God connects, excerpts from the autobiography of Malcom X today's being "I don't care how nice one is to you; the thing you must always remember is that almost never does he really see you as he sees himself, as he sees his own kind. He may stand with you through thin, but not thick; when the chips are down, you'll find that as fixed in him as his bone structure is his sometimes subconcious conviction that he's better than anybody black." and being reminded of when Albert shared something similar after returning from Mississippi for VOCM and realizing again that I am condescending too many of the times, bears shoelaces and pizza, Houston's, hymns, communion and loving the OPC, reading through old poems, being consumed by worldly desires situations thoughts, really listening to the cd that Brian gave me and being blessed by the songs - Ezekiel "to hear more than echoes of your voice to have more than traces of your love to feel your heart much more than my own...you take my mind away form former things to dwell onf the things of new for you've made a way for me", the inability to hear my voice in the things I have written, being asked if I'm excited for Japan and being unable to answer.
there are many things and people i have left out
I'm still floating, but these things are real. Every day there is more and more I don't understand, but I am constantly being reminded that the truth and transforming ability of the gospel is real. I started to forget, disbelieve. But I haven't been let go. God's blessings are real, they take many forms and shapes. I feel like I'm beginning again (for the umpteenth time) -- discovering sin, deconstructing, rebuilding, learning to rebuild, reassessing, remembering, etc. It's a difficult process, but Excellent and well worth it.
I got love. can't touch that
Wednesday, March 9, 2005
Monday, February 28, 2005
The "Draft" box of my email reads (9)
I wish I could speak eloquently and say these things in person
Sometimes when I speak, I close my eyes --
It makes things easier. Is that wrong?
I can't look you in the eyes when I talk about how I really feel, or when...
I don't know what it is about them
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they are honest and mine are not.
That look you gave me in the kitchen that day --
I was wearing my blue sweatshirt and you came in scruffy, smelling like drinks, bloodshot
We were both hesitant.
I tried to act as normal as possible, jabbed you with jokes
but you looked at me like you... I can't even describe it. But I know that look... Something about it looks timid, searching, careful, true, hopeful.
And when you look at me that way I try to ignore you or blink or look away
I don't know why. I don't know what i'm afraid of.
That maybe that look -- when you look at me that way --
I feel it hard and heavy, It is ambitious and direct, moves quickly. I feel it in my chest, and then deep. It hits me. It hurts.
And I don't know why it hurts because it's mine.
Maybe it's because I know (or think I know, how foolish we are, I am) that it's ill-fated, that it won't work, that it can't work, that you won't let it work, that He won't let it work, that it's fleeting, that you looked at her and her that way and felt the same wayl. But I wonder if you really did and if they still believe it too and hold on to see it one more time. Sometimes I look at you and hope to see it.
I'm sad a lot these days. I figured it out last night, where it comes from. And it's not just you. It started from long ago. I picture myself: bangs, small eyes, dress, skin on face, knees pointed inwards, twisting at the hip holding my skirt, lip bit, acting, while inside I worry and am anxious. I don't think this really happened, I just picture it. As with many things.
The roots run deep, it began long ago. Started with my family --
my parents, my sister.
And last night I realized my ability to hate. No, not just my ability, but that it does exist within me. I never thought it did... Came close, but never thought it was that.
But last night I realized it was there and it's still there, right now (It didn't go away.)
I asked the Lord what to do with this,
that I knew I was depraved but didn't know it was this bad
and I knew the answer and know the answer (J-e-s-u-s), but didn't think it was enough
(but told myself it was, asked Him to help me believe it was, to take me to the cross (generically), and finished my prayer)
I should know better, and I should be better. I do know better.
But it's harder than I thought it would be. Actually, it's not.
With you, I knew it would be this hard. But
it's about many things, not just you.
Do you remember that day on the couch? The day I stopped sitting on my side and you on yours, and when we talked all of this through and I told you that you probably couldn't give me what I needed? And you responded with, "You don't think I can give you what you need? You don't think I can make you happy?" And you do, but I knew you wouldn't and can't.
I hate that I'm so consumed by all of this these days. There's so much more than this.
But I can't seem to get outside myself. I keep reeling myself back in. And I wonder if you feel the same. Or if you're waiting
for a time that's convenient
I wish I could speak eloquently and say these things in person
Sometimes when I speak, I close my eyes --
It makes things easier. Is that wrong?
I can't look you in the eyes when I talk about how I really feel, or when...
I don't know what it is about them
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they are honest and mine are not.
That look you gave me in the kitchen that day --
I was wearing my blue sweatshirt and you came in scruffy, smelling like drinks, bloodshot
We were both hesitant.
I tried to act as normal as possible, jabbed you with jokes
but you looked at me like you... I can't even describe it. But I know that look... Something about it looks timid, searching, careful, true, hopeful.
And when you look at me that way I try to ignore you or blink or look away
I don't know why. I don't know what i'm afraid of.
That maybe that look -- when you look at me that way --
I feel it hard and heavy, It is ambitious and direct, moves quickly. I feel it in my chest, and then deep. It hits me. It hurts.
And I don't know why it hurts because it's mine.
Maybe it's because I know (or think I know, how foolish we are, I am) that it's ill-fated, that it won't work, that it can't work, that you won't let it work, that He won't let it work, that it's fleeting, that you looked at her and her that way and felt the same wayl. But I wonder if you really did and if they still believe it too and hold on to see it one more time. Sometimes I look at you and hope to see it.
I'm sad a lot these days. I figured it out last night, where it comes from. And it's not just you. It started from long ago. I picture myself: bangs, small eyes, dress, skin on face, knees pointed inwards, twisting at the hip holding my skirt, lip bit, acting, while inside I worry and am anxious. I don't think this really happened, I just picture it. As with many things.
The roots run deep, it began long ago. Started with my family --
my parents, my sister.
And last night I realized my ability to hate. No, not just my ability, but that it does exist within me. I never thought it did... Came close, but never thought it was that.
But last night I realized it was there and it's still there, right now (It didn't go away.)
I asked the Lord what to do with this,
that I knew I was depraved but didn't know it was this bad
and I knew the answer and know the answer (J-e-s-u-s), but didn't think it was enough
(but told myself it was, asked Him to help me believe it was, to take me to the cross (generically), and finished my prayer)
I should know better, and I should be better. I do know better.
But it's harder than I thought it would be. Actually, it's not.
With you, I knew it would be this hard. But
it's about many things, not just you.
Do you remember that day on the couch? The day I stopped sitting on my side and you on yours, and when we talked all of this through and I told you that you probably couldn't give me what I needed? And you responded with, "You don't think I can give you what you need? You don't think I can make you happy?" And you do, but I knew you wouldn't and can't.
I hate that I'm so consumed by all of this these days. There's so much more than this.
But I can't seem to get outside myself. I keep reeling myself back in. And I wonder if you feel the same. Or if you're waiting
for a time that's convenient
Saturday, February 26, 2005
call me sketchy
You know what I miss about Korea?
the dvd bangs.
yeah, everyone told me they were sketchy and that people did dirty things on those bed/couch thingies, but i loved it nonetheless. I loved going with friends, having the whole room to yourself, sitting any which way you wanted, surround sound, big screen, movie of choice, munching on snacks from LG mart... Everytime someone said, "what do you want to do?" i'd be like, "DVD BANG!!!" and then the jokes would come. but i took them and still would.
they need to get one up in my area. if you know of one, let me know
the dvd bangs.
yeah, everyone told me they were sketchy and that people did dirty things on those bed/couch thingies, but i loved it nonetheless. I loved going with friends, having the whole room to yourself, sitting any which way you wanted, surround sound, big screen, movie of choice, munching on snacks from LG mart... Everytime someone said, "what do you want to do?" i'd be like, "DVD BANG!!!" and then the jokes would come. but i took them and still would.
they need to get one up in my area. if you know of one, let me know
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