Layer After Layer.

Honest Reflections.
Originally uploaded by iamxlcp

Back from 2 weeks in Southern Africa. I'll have to post later on specifics.

On a trip like this, you can't help but come back changed. Someone asked if I was changed. Immediately I answered yes. This was at the end of our stay in Katse and I had started seeing some of the things God had done, all very small. God doesn't always work in huge, astounding ways. But then again, whenever He does work, that's something to pay attention to.

Throughout the few weeks, transparency definitely seemed to be a theme. Which isn't so great for me. Being transparent means showing my weakness, and I know that if I'm honest, I'm horribly weak. But I have always refused to let that large part of me show. I wanted to appear strong, like I have it all together. Thus, the scars I now bear on my arm and leg. When my then boyfriend & I broke up, my way of "coping" got so much worse than it alread was. I wanted to control and prevent the emotion that I knew was otherwise inevitable. I didn't want to hurt, and I didn't want to come off to others as the weak one who crumbled after a stupid break up.

So you see, transparency and I don't mix well. I don't cry. And I don't like to let people too close. When I do, I eventually snap out of it & try to push them away. And I don't want to be dependent.

Slap on a mask. Apply layer after layer. And let that become the new face of me. Just as long as no one sees the real me.

Each morning, 3 of us shared testimonies. Everyone was so honest. They were honest about struggles, about fears and weaknesses. Weaknesses.

But I could feel the unity. And I felt a lack of judgement. The morning came for me to speak for a few minutes. I held my breath and dove in.

I started out,

"I've always left out a bit of my testimony, but I realize it's the story of the last 2 years of my life I'm ignoring. So I'm going to try to be transparent today..."

The whole way through my voice shook and I couldn't catch my breath. I said what I needed to say, though. Everything was finally out in the open.

Transparency.

Maybe that morning made a lasting change. Probably not, though, even while I did learn so much from it. I still see myself pushing people away. Even today, at this moment. ...One of my closest friends, even my mom. And then I wonder why I feel so hopelessly alone.

But perhaps it's moments like this one that peel back even just one layer of this mask. And that in and of itself is progress.

kadi.

The Story Of Innocence Lost

Conflicting emotions
Bittersweet memories
Did this really have to happen?

Sure, something good did result.
Change in my life, and maybe in yours.
You lead me to a new perspective.

Even still, things can never be the same.
The story of innocence lost
A friendship that never asked for more

Now, a heavy weight resides on our shoulders-
Something like a thick fog.
It clouds the clarity of what we did know.

We were simply labeled ‘friends’
Way back then,
When everything was right.

But I realize now, this is how it has to end.
Memories of something good
Alongside such a vivid regret.

And so after these few months
Would you allow me to ask,
What is this that we have done?

kadi.

Her Granddaughter.

My birthday is tomorrow. 16.

This time last year. Hell. I'm doing better this year, trying to stay out of it. For some reason, though, my birthday will present a challenge. I'm trying to stay away, but I'm scared that I'll give in. It's been a couple weeks. Maybe just this one day.

I say this as I'm thinking about what my mom told me today. My grandma is going to give me her first diamond necklace for my birthday. I asked mom why me, out of the rest of her granddaughters.

Apparently my grandma really thinks something of me.

Which is great. Except I live with myself, I know who I am. I know the fucking hypocrite I've grown to be over the last year or so.

She thinks I'm this amazing young lady with an amazing heart for God and amazing passion for serving and for the church.

And I was. Sometimes I still can catch glimpses of that. But too easily is it shoved out of the way by my dependent thinking. "God, leave me alone."

She sees that I want to go into missions.

And even that, as of lately... I'm having a heck of a time trying to hold onto that desire and dream and passion. I don't know what's happened.

I feel so unbelievably false.

If I mentioned this to someone, I can guarantee I'd get a speech along the lines of "It's okay. We all go through it."

Shut the fuck up. Is that supposed to help?

Sure. All Christians struggle with inconsistency. We struggle with not feeling close to God. We struggle with wanting to go our own way.

Most, though, it might be a week off and on.

For me, I'm excited if I feel a portion of that passion for even a fleeting moment. It's the other way around.

And I know "I'm not the only one." Doesn't help matters much though. Doesn't make me feel any better. Doesn't make me suddenly want to give up everything I cling onto.

I guess for the last almost two years, I've been waiting for that one thing that would change everything. I've tried so much, with so many failed nights mixed in there. I don't know where to go anymore. I get tired of trying. Tired of trying to rekindle that relationship. I miss it. Promise you I do. But I don't know how to get back, and I don't know what's left to do. What works?

She still sees her granddaughter.

An amazing young girl.

I see me for who I am.

A fucking hypocrite.

kadi.

An Enduring Patience

Eyes open, you’re on the floor
Some might call this an epiphany
A revelation of sorts
But, really, you’re just happy to be alive.

You clench your fists, then hesitantly release them
Symbolically letting go of what you’ve clung onto for so long
Over and over, the same forced motion
Yet it never makes any difference; you just aren’t ready.

You cry out for a savior, even though you still hold onto your vice
You’ve given it up before, but you fall harder each time.
To some, God means love, safety, hope, and grace.
To you, God means pain, failure, hurt, and fear.

Torn, you decide it’s time you’re honest.
You tell God you can’t leave it behind.
You’re scared of what might happen, it’s who you are
So you take it back up, leaving the cross in the distance.

“I won’t force it upon you, that’s just not what I do.
But I’ll still love you. I’ll still watch over you.
So if you decide you want me, I’ll be right here.
I’ll be waiting for you. I won’t be going anywhere.”

That’s who He is. Maybe someday you’ll recognize Him.
He’s patient when no one else around is.
And He’ll stand here with His arms open wide
Waiting for the day you call His name.

kadi.

Letter.

I needed to write. So I wrote what I wanted to say, but knew I probably never will. So Caleb, this is for you. Although you'll probably never read it.



“Can I ask you a question?”

I was hesitant, eventually responding with an “okay.” I knew what you were thinking and wanted to say. It’s why we decided to end it the first time.

“Sometimes, I’m not sure if I even love you anymore.”

I knew it was coming, yet I was still silent when you asked me what I was thinking. I didn’t know what I was thinking, only that I still love you. And I stuck with that decision, even when I hated being around you. So I suppose in that sense, in a sense of choosing to love someone, it’s been a one sided relationship from the beginning. Apparently you never made a decision of either way.

I remember when you first told me of what you deal with. “I think I love you” was your response after I told you I wouldn’t be going anywhere. You weren’t sure then, but I thought it was the spark of something.

I remember that conversation. Something along the lines of, “I want to just be able to start a family in a nice town and not worry about anything. I want to be able to hold you forever.” I really thought you meant it. But if I’m honest with myself, I guess that it could have been meant for anyone.

And I remember that nights you would say “I love you.” Three simple words, but I hung onto each letter. I would like to ask you now; did you ever believe what you said? Was there ever meaning behind your voice, or was I only pretending something was there that never was?

And now a new memory. I remember when you first began avoiding telling me, “I love you.” You wonder if I love you, and guess what- I wonder the same about you. And while you have no reason to worry, it’s looking like I do.

You tell me you wish I did this and this and that differently. I listen and take what you say into consideration. I tell you I’ll try. But never once have I come back and told you what I wish you would do differently, what I think I need from you. And maybe that’s a weakness on my part, but I just hope that you don’t think I’m the only one to blame for our relationship falling apart. Believe me, I could easily run down a list of things I feel like I need, but I’ve chosen to keep my mouth shut. A one sided attempt becomes a two sided failure.

Before I walk away, I want one thing. I need, so desperately, for you to make up your mind. And I need you to stick wit it. Your going back and forth hurts more than anything. So decide and let me know. Maybe something can be salvaged. But promise me something. Do not hold onto me because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt. Be quiet for a moment and I’ll let you in on a little secret. Te damage has already been done. Ask me sometime and I’ll show you the physical scars I have to prove it. Holding me simply for that motive only causes the wounds to go deeper. Either way, someone will get hurt. I’ll raise my hand and volunteer to be that person, just please, don’t make it hurt anymore than it has to.

And, babe, here is one last word for you. I love you. While the day may be close, or may have already come, that I no longer tell you that every night before the day ends, that is still my choice, as it always has been. While I may not be able to hold you, I’ll still be by your side. I’ll still are for you. I’ll still think you are the most amazing guy I know. I’ll be here when you need to talk or when you just need someone to laugh at your jokes. We’ll both move on. Wounds will heal and scars will fade. But I’ll always be nearby. Know that you will always have someone that care, no matter what you say, do, or feel.

kadi.

Meant To Love.

Maybe we were never meant to be alone.

I’ve always been independent. Let me do my own things, my own way. Give me space and you’ll never have to see me. And you’ll never have to hear from me. It’s like I never was here.

Maybe we are meant to go through this life together.

It means dependency. It means compromising. It means giving. It means taking.

It means “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

It means “I could wring your neck right now.”

It means “I can’t believe you just said that. Couldn’t have been at a better moment.”

It means “I can’t believe you just said that. You’re such a freak.”

Maybe in this life, we are meant to love.

Maybe it was always that simple.

Or complicated.

Depends on how you look at it. Either way, though, the answer still comes out the same.

We were never meant to be alone and stand on our own strength.

We were meant to share moments and lives with others.

Maybe it’s always been that we were meant to love.

kadi.

Motivation.

I’m wondering why, those few moments when I really want to stop, why I want to. What’s the reason behind me wanting to? Not saying it’s bad. Just saying. Right reason?

Maybe it’s a matter of proving something. Proving to myself that I’m strong enough. Proving to others that I’m still a good person, a good Christian. Proving that I have things under control.

Why do I run to God? What’s my heart’s intent when I raise my hands and try to let go?

Am I concerned about a relationship and what I can do? Or what I can get out of that “relationship”? Do I only care to see myself “get better” and not care about anything, anyone else?

What’s the reason for me going to the cross if I’m only thinking about what I can get from it, not what I can give?

Or wondering how much I can give, and how much I can get from that act in the end?

What’s the point, week after week?

If I only care about getting rid of this.

And “getting better”.

And being a good person, a good Christian.

Then I’m a fool.

I’m a fool if that’s my only motivation for falling face down night after night.

kadi.

Promise?

I told him I didn't think I would be able to make it much longer without going back to a razor.

I half expected him to tell me to keep going, to not stop, that I've already past the first and biggest step.

Instead.

"Just at least try and make it to the end of the fourty days. Promise?"

I was relieved. I was worried that I would fall and not be able to tell him.

But now I don't know if it's what I want.

I miss feeling happy. I miss feeling like everything is okay. I miss feeling like I know God.

And SI doesn't help that.

But right now, not doing SI isn't helping, either. I know it's because I took that away and I'm not letting God work. And I don't know if I want Him to.

And now. I always wanted to live when I was still involved with all of that. I wanted to live. Now I'm not so sure. I'm having an increasing number of times when it's more the opposite.

I'm worried, though, that when I do go back to it, I'll still be thinking like this. And it'll only be worse.

But either way. When 10pm passes on Saturday. I'm going to have razors in hand. I'm tired of this. And it's not worth it.

I'm thinking SI won't be worth it. But I miss feeling calm. And I miss being able to forget about everything.

kadi.

Ours to Chase

A dream yet untouched
Maybe ours to chase
A life still so pure
Maybe ours to claim

Come with me, follow my lead
Let us let go of these horrid chains
Come with me, listen to my voice
There’s something so much bigger

I love you, you should know
So let’s leave this world behind
I love you, I think you realize
So let’s make something of ourselves

Quiet down. Do you hear that?
Sounds of this life slipping through the cracks
Listen up. Do you hear that?
Sounds of trumpets announcing a new beginning

Finally, today is here
Forget about the mistakes, the regret
Finally, now is the time
I know we can begin again

So take my hand, trust my every word
Will you join me?
So take my hand, walk beside me
Join me in this moment.

kadi.

Let’s rekindle that flame that fuels our passion and yearning for a life worth living.

Show Me The Stars

I don’t want to hear anymore lectures.

No more sermons.

No more being preached at.

I don’t want to be told what I am and what I’m not. I don’t want to be told how I should be and that I’m not enough of something.

I don’t want to be told that I should talk to my parents.

Talk to my brother.

Talk to everyone and tell them what the scars are.

I don’t want to be told I should be more outgoing.

And I don’t need to be told one more time that what I’m doing is an addiction and that it will only get worse.

Or that I need to take that next step. The step after giving him my razors.

I just want to be held. I want someone to whisper into my ear,

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re safe. You can still change. He sees you. He hasn’t forgotten you. He still loves you. I love you.”

That’s all. I don’t want anything else attached.

“I love you.”

I don’t want “I love you, but…” or “I love you, so…”

Just

“I love you.”

I want someone to hold my hands, look me straight in my eyes, and tell me I’m still alive. That I’m going to make it. That I’m going to make it. That I’m going to make it.

I want to be told that there is still breath in my lungs and blood pumping through my veins. That he hasn’t won yet. And that I’m worth something.

I want someone to show me the stars, and tell me of a wonderful creation. Not the broken and abused one that tends to be the only thing I ever see anymore.

No more lectures.

No more sermons.

No more being preached at.

Just tell me I haven’t been forgotten.

And that I’m still loved.

kadi.

A Reason to Live

Over and over, the events replay
It's a broken record on repeat-
An endless, taunting repeat.

My first dream of us, I wish I could take it back
I lie awake and pray to a God
I pray it remains only a dream

Images pieced together to form our end
The two of us. Two guns. Two wounds.
Two lives that will cease to exist.

I'm scared though. Scared as hell.
My part may soon be reality.
Oh God, don't let it follow through

I stopped the intentional pain. I gave you my vice.
But with it I also gave my will to live
I gave away a fading passion to wake up and fight.

I hope you know, you're what's keeping me here.
With you, and away from reality.
I don't see how I could ever end it.

I hope it's enough. But common sense says not
Humanity will never get me far
So I pray, give me a reason to live just one more day.

I'm beginning to wonder if any of it's worth it. I gave up SI, but now I go one step further in my thoughts. But I want to live. It's SI and living. Or no SI and death. He wants me to stop. But I wonder if he'd rather have me dead or alive.

I don't think it's worth it. I don't see how it could be.

kadi.

Those Moments.

It's perfect moments...

Perfect moments like last night.

Those moments that last for only a minute, but feel like they could last eternity. It's those moments that I thought I would never know. It's those moments that I've watched in everyone else's life.

It's those moments that allow me to live another night. That give me hope that change is a real possibility. And that maybe there is still some love in my life. That someone cares and I'm not walking alone. It's those moments that explain why I'm still here.

It's the moments that I wouldn't trade for anything.

The moments that I just have to stop and say, "Thank You. You're still alive in my life."

kadi.

He'd Worry.

Caleb dropped me off and I started up the stairs to the florida room. I walked slower than usual. I was thinking about a lot. Still am. But maybe not a lot. Maybe just one thing, but it isn't the lightest thing ever to have to carry alone.

I turned around. I don't want to go inside. I don't want to see anyone.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and retraced my steps back to where Caleb had dropped me off. I stood there and paced. Beginning to cry out. Beginning to beg for salvation. "Help me," was all I could muster.

I knelt down behind my mom's car. By this time I couldn't feel my feet. Snow is on the ground. And it's getting near 18 degrees. But, I don't notice. And I don't notice until I finally leave that spot. It's in that spot I stay for the next fifteen minutes.

"I don't want to be suicidal.

I'm trying to stop cutting. I'm trying to get better. And I'm doing well. Why now do you have to throw this at me? Why now, when I finally want to see You and know You and love You?

I don't want to be suicidal.

It can't be like this.

God, help me. God, help me. God, help me."

I got up shortly after I realized I would be alone in the battle. I can talk to Caleb about my depression and SI. But not this. He'd worry. Even moreso than the SI. This time it's something that could end so quick. He'd want to say something to someone.

And he'd worry.

I don't want him to worry.

With what he struggles with... right now it's only been worse for him. I don't want to throw this in on top of all of that.

"Oh, Caleb? I forgot to mention... I think I'm suicidal. Just thought you should know."

He needs to focus on his own stuff. He needs to focus on God. I know I would only provide a distraction.

It's me and God. Can't say anything. Can't mention it. Can't hint at it.

This is my battle.

Oh God.

Help me.

kadi.

Satisfied.

Sometimes it would be so much easier.

Settle for the typical American life.

Husband. 2 or 3 kids. Job that pays just enough for us to get by.

It would be easier to be satisfied with what everyone else is satisfied, rather than have these big dreams and plans. With expectations. Goals.

And half expecting to fail.

It would be easier. But, maybe I don't always want what's easiest.

I've always been the type of person that wants to know my life impacts someone, even in the smallest way. I'm not always happy with school and family and such because it doesn't seem like I can make that big impact. Skip high school. Skip college. Let me go work with kids in Uganda or Indonesia or the Phillippines and let me know that I'm that light in their lives. Let me know that I can die and my life will mean something to someone else. Let me burn out bright.

I want to change the world.

Even if it's only a few peoples' worlds.

More than anything. I want to know I've made a change in what's around me.

I want to know I'm not useless. And that my life was used by God. That something came of pain and joy and failures and victories.

kadi.

Not Now.

My jumbled, repeating thoughts over the past day. What keeps playing on the broken record. What keeps replaying images, sounds, ideas in my head.

Friday 021508 Afternoon.

My hands are trembling. My head is pounding. My legs won’t hold me much longer.

I can’t think straight. I just want to be alone. Leave me alone.

Caleb wants me to call him. I want to. But I shouldn’t. Not like this. I was doing so well. Oh it’s a good thing I gave him my razors.

And it’s a good thing I don’t have access to a gun…

Did I just say that?

Yes. I wish I just wasn’t here. I just want to hang out with Caleb tonight, and then it can all end. I don’t care. Africa is coming up. But I don’t care. I’ll be surprised if I can go anyway.

Friday 021508 Evening.

I could stay here forever. Away from home and all the problems there. Just stay here with a guy that understands me and genuinely cares.

But I remember just a few hours earlier. How could I think that?

My hands tense. I breathe deep. I close my eyes.

I can’t believe I thought that. I would lose so much.

Saturday 021608 Afternoon.

I can’t believe I thought that.

I can’t believe I thought that.

I can’t believe I thought that.

I don’t want to have those thoughts.

I don’t want to be like that.

I don’t want to be suicidal.

What if my parents found out? Or Caleb? What would they say?

I don’t want this to be the beginning of something. I’m trying to stop SI. And I’m trying to give my depression to a God I’m learning to trust. I don’t want to deal with this now. No. Not now. Please. Not now.

I can’t take anymore.

Not now.

kadi.

You Cannot Let Him Win.

Tomorrow I'm going to sit down and tell him I've decided. I want to go these next fourty days without SI. But I don't want it to stop there. The longest I've gone is 39 days. I know I can go farther. I want this to be it. I want this to be the time that I finally begin to change. I'm ready for change.

And I'm going to tell him I need help. I want to get rid of any triggers. So I'm going to ask him to take my razors from me and never give them back. I cut my rubber bands yesterday. And I'll be without razors by tomorrow night. God, I hope You notice. I hope You see that I want to give it up.

Last night I had two people talk to me about all of this. In one night. Maybe it's time now.

I'm hesitant to give up the razors. He's right. I hide in them. Each day after school, hurting myself provided relief that most would never understand. And it was enough. But in the end, it will all "be put to shame". I tell Cara not to give up, that she would only be giving those girls what they want. Maybe it's time to listen to my own advice. Don't give up. You're only giving Satan what he craves. You cannot let him win.

kadi.

Too Far, Too Long.

I'm almost convinced that I'll never know the God that I used to know.

I've been saying recently how I'm afraid that it'll never be like it was, but there was always something that kept me hoping and believing that it will change.

But I'm really not sure anymore. I really don't know if it will happen. I don't think it will.

It's something you can't explain. Something I can't put into words, even if I'm writing it out.

I go to worship services Wednesday nights. If I'm able to raise my hands and fall to my knees and attempt to begin to knock walls down, it doesn't feel like it's enough. It's like I've gone too far, too long, and nothing can change that.

And when I'm able to calm myself down long enough to listen, it's always to listen to the lies.

"He doesn't care anymore. You're a waste of time."

I'm a 15 year old American girl who struggles with depression and SI. You ask me why I do what I do and I could rattle off some problems about school and home. But I know that my life is near perfect compared to what other people go through each day. What they go through in Uganda or the Philippines. Or what they go through in my neighborhood. Rape. Abuse. I've never experienced that first hand. So why do I do what I do? I can't tell you that.

So why would God spend His time trying to save me? Others need His attention. He's got bigger problems on His hands than a girl who hurts herself for stupid reasons.

...

Earlier this evening I was thinking about all of this. How I can never get back to where I was. I can come close, but I know I'll never know the same God I used to know. I've made Him into something I don't recognize. I don't know who I worship anymore. And you can't worship two masters.

I finished a book tonight. I'll post something else about it later. But first.
I mentioned how my problems pale in comparison to most everyone else's and how I really have no reason to do what I do. I loved what the author had to say when the main character, Charlie, was thinking somewhere along the lines of that.


"I think that if I ever have kids, and they are upset, I won't tell them that people are starving in China or anything like that because it wouldn't change the fact that they are upset. And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad. Just like that my sister said when I had been in the hospital for a while. She said that she was really worried about going to college, and considering what I was going through, she felt really dumb about it. But I don't know why she would feel dumb. I'd be worried, too. And really, I don't think I have it any better or worse that she does. I don't know. It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there."

-Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

We all have problems. Some bad. Some a lot worse. But each one seems important to that person. Maybe comparing problems isn't always the best thing to do.

I don't know. I realize I make absolutely know sense right now.

I just know that things will never be like what they used to be. I won't ever know the same God I used to know.

(How's that for two different topics put into one blog?)

kadi.

Rising of the Dawn.

Come and listen
Come to the edge of who we are
A broken people, a hopeful people
Come to realize these lines are blurred

Come and listen
Listen for the calls of a new day
Trumpets resounding, drums surrounding
Listen for the promises of a savior

The parting of the clouds
Love may soon become a reality
The rising of the dawn
A new life may finally be ours

Maybe this is me pleading to slow down… to force myself to be quiet and focus for just one moment. I’m constantly caught up in the here and now. Fighting a demon that I know is too strong and already has his hands clenched around my throat. I struggle to regain my ground. And that’s all I see- his shadow behind me. I don’t see a savior with his arms outstretched towards me. I can’t hear the promises, the ones that can finally break down this wall and show me there is still light and hope and beauty in not only this world, but my world. I can’t realize there’s someone who wishes to let me live again- if only I would recognize him for who he is, and recognize his presence.

It’s about quieting myself down. Going to the water’s edge to look out on what I could be. It’s about slowing down long enough to take my eyes off of my chains and refocus on someone who wants only to see me breathe in a real, true breath once again.

kadi.

Hatred. Blame.

It scares me.

It scares me just how easy it is for me to hate something, someone. How quick I am to blame God, blame someone else, blame something.

A friend tells me that he struggles most every night, when I thought it wasn't so often. I blame God. Why can't I help him anymore than I am? Why can I only do so much? Why did you choose him, of all people?

I believe "love is the movement". But I sure don't act like it. I realized tonight how much hate there is in my life. Not necessarily hate for anyone, at least not now, but for myself, what I've done, what I can't do, blaming God.

Regrets, guilt.

It's tearing me down.

Hearing someone who's been imprisoned so many times and constantly persecuted say he has never hated the people who want him dead... it makes you realize that you have no reason to hate.

I just want to do so much more. I want to help him. But I can't, I can only do so much which never seems like much at all. After what he's done for me, you'd think I could do some of the same for him.

kadi.

Two Gods.

It was dark. Music started and I recognized the song. “I can’t sing this,” I thought. “How can I sing this, a song about only worshiping God when I know for a fact that I am struggling with serving and worshiping two gods at this moment? How can I bow down to two completely different gods? How can I sing this song when I know I don’t mean one word of it?”

And I will worship You, Lord
Only You, Lord
And I will bow down before You
Only You, Lord

I noticed beside me my boyfriend had raised his hands. How? I know him, what he’s going through. How can he still sing these words and tell God he will bow down before only Him? I'd love to be like that. Sometimes I am. But most nights that just won’t happen.

I, honestly, could not sit down and tell you who is the one god I worship. But. I don’t know who God is anymore. The one, true God, the one who died on a cross and has scars of His own… I have not the slightest idea of who He is. I don’t know His face. I don’t know His words. I can’t recognize Him. I don’t know who He is.

And it’s just you and me here now
Only you and me here now

No. Maybe You. Maybe me. But I hope You don’t mind that I brought along another god of mine. You see, I want to worship both of you. I still love You, I’ll still bow down. But, I may occasionally have to step aside and spend some time over here.

Doesn’t work like that, does it? It seems like it’d be easier. “Just let me live and do what I want. I’ll come to You when I have nothing else to run to. I’m going to try here first, though.” It won’t happen. I’ve got to choose. One God. Or the other.

Isaiah 28:15c
“...for we have made lies our refuge, and in falsehood we have taken shelter.”

kadi.

Regrets. Guilt.

Regrets suck.

Guilt is no place to live.

This is nothing I should know.

It's the Christian thing to not regret and mindlessly repeat the phrase "let God use your mistakes." ...Or something like that. To believe in a grace and trust that there's no reason to feel this guilt. It's all blanketed in a sense of forgiveness.

I know it's true. But it's another thing entirely to act like that, and not just say it.

I do a decent job of not regreting. I screw up. Beat myself up a bit. Sometimes more than I should. But give me a day and I can move on. At least most of the time. Except for this one. No matter how many sunrises I receive, it's all the same. That same regret that promises to haunt me and remind me of that Sunday afternoon back in May. Everytime I see those scars.

Sometimes I wonder. What if no word came out of my mouth that I didn't believe for myself as well? Like all of this about grace and mercy and truth and honesty. I don't think I'd be talking or writing as much. I don't think any word would form at all.

I've been told, I've heard so many times to not regret and not live in such a place as guilt. But when it comes to this, it seems just about as possible as me waking up in the morning to find no scars and my life just like it was not too long ago.

kadi.

I Still Love You.

I woke up this morning. "Last night didn't happen. Was it real? What he told me, did that conversation take place?"

I've thought about what he said last night all day. And now it's finally sinking in. He was worried he'd hurt me. He was worried he'd lose me. And honestly, I really am upset. But only because I can't stand to think that this is what he's been dealing with all this time. It isn't right.

As the tears roll down
Signifying a relase of something-
Something like a burden.

As the tears roll down
You open the door to reveal
A closet filled with shameful skeletons

As the tears roll down
You refuse to look at me
Worrying you'll only hurt me more

As the tears roll down
You ask me to not say anything
But instead, listen.

As the tears roll down
You tell me you love me
You don't want to lose me

As the tears roll down
I look you in the eyes
I won't let this change anything

You've never given up on me
Even after so many times of failing
And now, trust me when I say
I promise I won't let anything happen
I won't let go
Please believe me when I say
I still love you.

kadi.

Heavy and Light.

It’s the start of a new year; the first day has come to a close. And it’s easy, it seems, to go into a new year with feelings filled with doubt, fear, failure- especially after a year when those words characterized each day.

Last night at the New Year’s Eve party, the speaker (Chris Collins) mentioned pain, suffering. He said we all have it; we’ll all experience it firsthand. But, it’s something that will not last.

I read someone’s words earlier today, saying how she was glad for the rain to stop as she was driving home. Maybe that’s a bit like our reality…

Everywhere it rains. But everywhere the rain eventually stops. Even in the areas where it rains for months on end, it all comes to an end and in turn reveals a sun that’s been there all along.

Pain is ever present in a fallen world, as is suffering, failure, fear. Unfortunately, though it’s what we chose in the beginning. We will go through times when we just can’t see the sun anymore. We will. But it also all has to come to an end sometime.

I’ve also heard a phrase, “heavy and light”, be used to describe our lives. Things come in opposites. Heavy and light. Life isn’t always happy, everyone can attest to that. But life isn’t always sad, either.

Life can suck; it can be a living hell. And I have scars as reminders of that truth. But maybe just the fact that I wake up each morning to a new day is something to find hope in. And maybe, too, that whole analogy of the glass half full, half empty kind of thinking- maybe it’s just good that there’s actually something in there.

I can look outside and easily see evidence of struggle and failure. But I can also see a creation so pure. I can see my God’s signature in everything and everyone, even the most beat up and bruised. And that should be something that gives me reason to praise Him forever. The fact that each morning I’m greeted with a new day that reminds me I’m given another chance, no matter how bad I screwed up the night before. I’m given another chance to learn to trust God and believe in what He can do, no matter how far I had run just hours earlier.

It doesn’t matter. He is patient, with arms always extended. He doesn’t care how many times we blame Him or how many times we ignore Him, He wants us and chooses to give us another sunrise.

kadi.

Let the Sun Rise.

New Year's Eve. For some, of course, it's a new beginning, new start. Change. But it seems like more and more lately that people look on it as just another year to stand up and be shoved to the ground. I've felt like that. I screwed up in 2007. More than I'd like to remember. And I remember New Year's eve last year. I "rededicated" my life. Promised myself I wouldn't be depressed anymore. That lasted a week. So, I figured this year wouldn't be any different. Just another year to get my hopes up about change. Then fall a week later.

But, just maybe this new year is something more?

I could very well not be here. My God could have decided that 2007 would be my last year. But 2008 has come. He's given me another year, and for some reason, I don't think God is a god of failure.

"You screwed up in 2007. I watched you as you built up walls and depended only on yourself. I watched you as you gave up on Me and refused to trust. I watched you fall this past year, willingly go your own way. But, I want to give you 2008. I know you can rise above this, rise from the ashes. I want to give you a new day. Let the sun rise. And maybe this time, let Me walk by your side."

Maybe this time next year, I'll look back and feel the same as I do about 2007. But it doesn't have to be like that.

"It's not the way it goes, it's your book now."

kadi.

You are brighter than the fireworks that paint the sky at midnight.
Jamie Tworkowski.