Aftermath of a storm.

Once upon a time I used to think I didn't care much for the color yellow. Actually, I didn't just think I didn't, I really didn't. To me it was just the color of pee, blondes (no offense), mustard (which I abhor), and horrid Easter dresses. It would hardly show up in crayon, and would clash horribly with my skin. In my mind it just kind of sat there in the rainbow between orange and green. I've always preferred purples myself. But it's not like this was something I spent much time pondering. I never had time for that. I mean afterall, we are just talking about color, c'mon!

But recently I've developed a renewed appreciation for amazing little miracles God put into place in this universe for us to marvel in, which, sadly, we don't most of the time and just take for granted because we see them literally every day. Things like the cricket's song or the slowly morphing clouds or our dexterous hands. Or even more basic things, things like color. He could have made everything in black and white, or something like that, you know. Now, don't get me wrong, I love the pureness of white and that black is made up of every color (and that it's slimming hehe). I love a good old -fashioned B&W movie and adore B&W photography. But my mind is now replaying the part of the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy steps out of the house into Oz and suddenly her dreary colorless existence is lit up in sparkling vivid technicolor. Oh, how breathtaking is that scene! And it's not just the surface aesthetic aspect of it (because from that point on cinema would be ever improving upon the quality of its color), it's the contrast, it's how it hits you. I can't quite articulate this, but it's kind of the little spark I get in my gut when I finally get my churning mind off of my heartache and addictions and actually think about how amazing His work is.

Even more recently I've realized that somewhere along the line I've come to adore yellow without really thinking about it. Until now. Now yellow to me is sunshine, fireflies, lightning (see last post), daisies, yummy butter, fresh pineapple, stars, and the closest representation of light other than white.

Lately I've had quite a fascination with all things light, whether literal, metaphorical, or spiritual and I don't think that's just my weirdness. God has been using the most mundane commonplace things like color and light (which now that I list those two together in a sentence all sorts of correlations between color and light other than what I'm already writing about pop into my head, but they're going to have to stay there because I digress) to teach me and bring things to my attention. It's almost as if He's staying really simple and basic with me because He knows my poor mind and heart are a bit fried from the last 5 years or so (actually, I could argue I've got some small, but always in a vicious cycle of being ripped open and bleeding and then healing again scars tracing back to age 7 when isolation made my shell become my refuge for a long time), especially the last 3, and especially ESPECIALLY the last 6 months. That last sentence probably didn't make any sense, but it did to me, so moving on. But even simple light and color are now blowing my mind! But again, I don't think it's just because my mind is too easily blown, it's that every "little" thing He's done really is and should be mind blowing. And I put "little" in quotation marks because is anything He's done actually "little"?

A few words on light. Where do I start? It's how we see, right? Literally, right? That alone is staggering. But to call His Truth light, His Word a lamp unto our feet, that is more than just a clever metaphor to me. That is reality just as much as light from the sun enabling the cones and rods in our eyes to see the colors around us. What's really staggering is that I type that and in the next instant realize how much I really know in my head that has yet to penetrate the core of my heart. I have yet to be at the point of constant unquenchable thirst for being in His Word. It's very on and off for me right now still, and that grieves me. This may be precisely why He's using what I see around me to get my attention. Another thing I appreciate much more now than in the past is the sun. I don't know when it started, but all the time I was at school at NCC last year I craved the sunlight, to run out and bask in it. Not to tan, but bask. And I haven't always been like that. I've mostly been an indoor kitty a majority of my life. Still kind of revert to indoor life by habit. But anymore I'd honestly rather be out in the sun's rays feeling the anxiety melt away in it's enveloping warmth. Have you thought about the common knowledge fact that we revolve around the sun? That it is the center? That if it were to not be at the center of our orbit life as we know it couldn't exist? That its gravitational pull is what keeps us from just floating off into the black abyss? That even when it goes "down" for the night, it really hasn't gone anywhere, it's us that have moved and turned away? That it's always there keeping us alive and giving evidence of it's presence by reflecting on us by the moon? It may just be me, but I can't help thinking that the sun isn't just a practical thing we need, but is also a powerful visual aide showing us who Christ is and what He should be to us. I didn't know until recently when my friend Jason pointed it out to me in a discussion about all this that there is Scripture that makes a direct correlation between the sun and the Son.

2 But to you who fear My name
The Sun of Righteousness shall arise
With healing in His wings;
And you shall go out
And grow fat like stall-fed calves.
3 You shall trample the wicked,
For they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet
On the day that I do this,”
Says the LORD of hosts.

~Malachi 4: 2-3

Amazing.

Another thing I've been learning about in relation to light is it's antitheses, darkness. Spiritual warfare is real, folks. Don't believe me? Look around. But I'm not going to dive into that much here other than to say I started to really see it on a whole new level last year and I felt like I had been squinching my eyes shut tight for years and had finally just barely opened them a crack. But that crack let a flood of light in, as well as let me see a bit of the lurking shadows, all of which I hadn't seen to that extent before. Mind you, I didn't have em' open all the way, still don't by a long shot, and I didn't quite know what I was looking at most of the time, and definitely didn't know how to articulate it to anyone. But it was very real. It's not that I never knew satan existed, but now I really knew. I just really started seeing more of the depths to which his darkness quietly, subtly permeates, or tries to I should say, because I also saw the darkness have to flee from the light. Funny how one point of light draws the eye from a whole expanse of darkness. An old Point of Grace song (haha yeah, yeah) pops to mind:

When you're walking in the dead of night
When your soul is churning
When your hope seems out of sight
Keep the candle burning
All it takes is one steady heart
In a world that's turning
Shine a light and pierce the dark
Keep the candle burning

One ray of light always breaks through...

Anyway, meandering my way back to yellow, I think there's another thing after light I can add to my list of what yellow is to me now: Joy. One of my favorite poet/singer/songwriter/spoken word artists Bradley Hathaway once wrote that joy is purple pastel pretty, but to me if it had to be a color, it'd be yellow. And not because happy faces are yellow. Joy isn't happiness. For me, even this has to do with light. Because the best I can think to explain it, joy is that little spark, that little candle flame that burns and pierces the dark. Happiness is like the day when there isn't much darkness, but it doesn't last just like the daytime doesn't last. But joy is that point of light that keeps even the thickest darkness from being complete around us even in the dead of night. Maybe I'm thinking of hope, but then again maybe they're closely related. That flame in the dark is peace instead of fear, joy instead of grief, hope instead of defeat. I'll admit, even now I have that flame shining in certain areas of my life, but not nearly all, as if it's a bit off center or something. Regarding my divorce and my ex-husband for instance, I have more peace and joy and hope and forgiveness and, and, and... than I ever imagined possible even just 6 months ago. Not to say that they can't develop even more, because growth never stops, but I rejoice and praise Him that at least the bulk of the shackle of bitterness and anxiety about all that has been broken off of me. I also have more of these things than I imagined I would regarding my schooling situation and other things as well.

But I can't say the same yet regarding my most recent "significant other," for lack of a better term. More often than not I'm still utterly haunted by it, more than I ever remember being about anyone, even my ex-husband, and that's saying a lot. I've cut off numerous people in my life before out of fear, anger, and hurt, all selfishness, but he is the first one I've cut off that I'm scared to let go of, angry that I have to let go of, in a world of hurt that I have to let go of him, and I'm still holding on to him in my heart and mind out of selfishness. The only thing they all have in common is that I was the one to cut ties, but I went from the one extreme of pushing people away when God didn't necessarily say to, to the opposite extreme of holding someone too close, so close to the point of taking my focus above even God, which God said not to. I don't know if this is from God or satan, probably satan, but I keep telling myself if only I'd kept myself in check and kept emotional boundaries and my priorities intact it wouldn't have gotten to the point where God had to remove me from him. I could have kept a person I care about in my life and not had to hurt him so deeply, he who's already been hurt so much in life. I wouldn't have had to see him react with every emotion, from him lashing out just like a wounded animal and thinking and saying things he shouldn't have about my spiritual leaders, to the pleading in his eyes and mouth for me to hear his concern for me, to his quiet weeping broken only by whispered pleas my ears couldn't understand but my heart could. But I've been adamantly told that all this churning in my head is satan trying to beat me up and pound me down. And hold me back. I have a hard time clearly seeing that all too often. But I DO know I can't play the 'what if.." game. I have to get it through my head that kinda like how God says "vengeance is mine," He also says "healing is mine." Whether I did the right thing or not, nothing I alone can do at this point will be what either of us needs to heal from anything in each of our pasts. When will this truth penetrate me and loosen my grasp, Lord? It's almost more than I can bear sometimes just to make it through a day without caving in to satan's constant torturous tactics trying to get me to dwell on him, grasp at anything I can use to hold on to him. And he doesn't even know it. He thinks I've forgotten him.

There's a lyric in a song by La Dispute something like, "I'm a greenhouse filled with ghosts." At least the way I choose to interpret that, that's about how I feel. There's good stuff growing and taking root in me and light is getting in, but I'm still having trouble letting the ghosts out. That little candle flame is flickering off center. I think God 's telling me for the millionth time, it goes back to communing with Him. Reading and listening to what He has to say more and really talking to Him more. I'm doing more of this than I used to, but still very sporadically, and so the light piercing my dark is still very sporadic. That's the bottom line.

And so, on that bittersweet note, I will wind this rather sprawling (but still tied together in my mind) thing up where I started. Yellow, as pictured above by my phone camera, is one final thing to me. The aftermath, the calm after an amazing storm.

I haven't been writing much poetry lately, but this whole train of thought started with me running across an old poem I wrote. It still fits.

Once, twice I look into my own eyes

All I see are these silent yellow skies

Swirling, twirling far off with a foreboding wonder

I feel drawn as my carefully crafted world goes under

What will become of me as I dance in the haze?

My mind has lost me in this eternal maze

I play with a smile in the pelting rain

It mingles nicely with the tears of pain

Ethereal sun, break through my lovely storm now

Light these portholes into my being somehow

Warm me up and set me on my feet

That I may cast clear eyes on others in need




The Joy of the Lord is My Strength

wow, so i'm thinking i may need to make myself go through old stuff i have posted on here and get rid of the particularly embarrassing stuff. o my. but just not now. also, i just spent a few minutes clicking through a bunch of my old subscriptions from when i started mine back when it was THE thing in '04 (even more than Facebook, believe it or not) and looks like hardly anyone i knew from highschool and OCC has been on here in years. yet i know at least a couple ppl just starting with xanga. is xanga on the verge of a new wave of popularity? hm. 

 

IS ANYBODY OUT THERE, OR HAVE YOU ALL BEEN SUCKED INTO THE BLACK HOLE KNOWN AS FACEBOOK AS I WAS AND ONLY JUST ESCAPED WITH MY LIFE??????!!!!!! haha, ok a bit dramatic, but still.

 

a thought just occured to me...it's surely a blessing in disguise that my Droid DOESN'T (cough, cough, stupid Droid commercials..) let me post anything to xanga from it. it's way too easy for me to become addicted to this kind off stuff and considering that i live in the country where my droid is my only constant internet access (i'm in town on my Mac right now), my droid just may be doing me a favor for my own good. thank the Lord for defective technology and helping me help myself!

 

 

Ok so I know everybody's probably sick of hearing about Michael Jackson...but too bad! lol. I'm actually in a writing mood and this is the first topic that comes to mind at the moment, surprise, surprise. Thanks a lot TV Guide channel! I'm half kidding, but I do seriously have some thoughts so don't say I didn't warn you!

Not to make myself sound so great or anything, but I guess I just can't shut off my compassion. I'm truly really bummed about his passing. Not because I idolize him at all by ANY means..but beacuse he was such a public figure it makes me sad that he probably isn't someone I'm going to see in Heaven when I die. But then again only God can make that call...I guess I shouldn't say "probably" cuz I really don't know at all. But it is true that generally speaking people in his position have an aweful lot stacking up against them centering their lives around Christ and serving Him. Jesus never said a rich man (or celebrity, whatever) couldn't be saved, but that the odds of it happening were much slimmer. Not because of Christ's unwillingness to save them, but because of their unwillingness to put Him before worldly treasures and successes. But I really don't know where MJ is right now. I guess I'll find out later...though I probably won't notice at that point :)

 But the bigger point I'm trying to make is ultimately I wish people would be more balanced in their attititudes towards people like MJ...as in not judging so much! I'm not particularly a huge fan of his and nobody has to be but it makes me sad when people go to extreme ends of the spectrum and either idolize celebrities or else hate their guts and make up horrible things about them. People do both of these without ever having met the person!

I don't personally think MJ is someone whose life would be wise to emulate...but the primary feelings I have toward him are compassion and pity, whether he actually molested kids or not...and I don't have any way of forming a solid opinion about whether he did or not. But to me, as horrible of an allegation as that is, my heart breaks for this man and other tragic figures of pop culture. Not because he's done nothing wrong (cuz he def HAS done things wrong for sure) but because he's a human being just like me when it boils down to it. Yes, he probably brought stuff on himself, but don't we all do that? Who are we to deny somebody compassion on the basis that they brought their troubles on themselves when every single one of us does that too? Granted, we might do it in completely diff or more subtle ways but that doesn't change the fact that nobody is truly better than anybody else, or at least that's what God's teaching me right now. Some people's actions and wrongdoings just happen to be a heck of a lot more visible to the world. And the rest of us get to hide away most of our demons and things we don't want anyone to realize about us. This is precisly why I DON'T find it so hard to have compassion for people like MJ cuz if you're in the public eye then not only does God see all your garbage, like He does with everyone, but now you've got millions of people seeing your every move too. I can't imagine that.

But yet people still have the attitude that they shouldn't feel compassion for celebrities cuz they have gotten what they wanted so now they should deal with it. I can relate to feeling that way about plenty of people who have loads of what seems like success and yet they're messed up. It's hard to feel sorry for someone who has everything this world values. But that's the thing...what the world values isn't really so great. People that have the world really shouldn't be envied...is it any wonder that celebrity and wealth typically go hand in hand with drama, strife, debt, lies, divorse, lonliness, heartache, tragedy, etc, etc?? And particularly with MJ, I happen to know enough of his general background info and have made enough observations over the years to know that it's not like he was some average dude who one day made a decision to become famous. No, he grew up in it from a very young age thanks to his family paving the way. And not only that, he truly was abused as a child.

I don't just believe his claims of being abused because he says so...to me the very oddities and eccentricities that got him so criticized (and praised) are actually glaring evidence that totally backs up his claims about his childhood. Even if he had never ever claimed to have been abused, I would still suspect that he had been. The most obvious one is his almost fettish-level love for all things children. His home was called Neverland and had a built in amusement park, he always wanted children around, always spoke in that almost little girl-ish voice, his use of innocent child-like language using words like "giggle" and willingness to talk in interviews about things that have made him cry so much, etc. Some say all of this was just part of the child predator persona. Well again, I have no idea if he actually did molest children (I REALLY hope not), but even if he did, is it not true that most child abusers were actually abused themselves as children? So whether the child-like innocence thing was an act to lure in victims or not, either way I think it points to that he was abused himself. And then, of course, is the fact that it is very well documented and confirmed by others that he was abused.

I prefer to think of it in the way that his odd behavior and personality were the way they were because he grew up trying to compensate for his "lost" childhood and had a massive soft spot (to the point that it made him look bad) for kids, especially sick kids who needed some happy childhood memories that he could provide for them. I do think that if this was the case and his motives truly were pure, he still made very unwise and naive (and maybe downright wrong) decisions. But if you think about it, his extreme naivete was probably also a result of his growing up in the spotlight and yet being extremely socially isolated at the same time. He never really learned what was socially normal and acceptable..it's like in some aspects, especially emotionally and socially, he stayed at the level of a little boy his whole life. Everything about him seems to practically scream this. Off stage he always seemed like the wimpiest, shyest, girliest, man ever but when on stage he could be SOOO opposite.  Some people wonder about that too and think he was faking but think about it...if you grew up on stage for literally a huge majority of your life and that's pretty much all you did when you weren't getting abused in some way, wouldn't the stage feel like the home of all homes to you too? And you'd also probably be like a fish out of water anywhere else too. He was NOT normal, whatever that is, because he didn't grow up normal or anything close to it. Ironically, I believe the same things that account for his oddities and personality flaws and mistakes also account for his artistry and facilitated his rise to fame. If he had grown up any other way I doubt we would even know the name Michael Jackson right now. So it was quite the double edged sword. It's ALMOST like he was doomed from the beginning. I say almost because there is hope for everyone. They just have to recognize it.

His death also catches my attention for a rather unimportant reason: nostalgia. He was a cultural part of MY childhood so it is rather odd to think that this seemingly larger than life cultural entity is now gone. Wierd. Thriller came out 4 years before I was born, but I have plenty of early memories of trying to do the moonwalk and singing "Will You Be There" from Free Willy at the top of my lungs, lol. BTW, has anyone else noticed how he really straddled and blurred some socially and culturally set lines? I don't know if this is good or bad, but he was a black person that ended up looking more like a white person, not only in color but in other physical features too (regardless of whether this was in his control or not), a man who had some very feminine qualities, and an adult who had some very child-like tendencies. It's like he refused to fit within the perameters of any human-defined box. Interesting. To put my opinion out there again, I actually don't think he had as much plastic surgery as everyone thinks. He certainly did his nose, but I can see how he might not have done anything to his lips, jaw and other things that people are sure he did. If you look at pictures from his early 20s, his lips were never thick and his jaw line was always pretty squared. The main things that were so visually different about him then was his color and his nose. And the eyebrows haha. But there's no doubt he had more dont than he ever admitted to. But this is all very trivial and insignificant in the scheme of things. Just thought I'd mention it while I was at it.

Also, I want to say that I've heard some angry comments about how messed up it is how much coverage and attention MJ's death is getting when our soldiers and many others are dying every day and we barely hear a peep about them. I totally agree that this is unjust. And maybe I'm hypocritical because I just spent a whole blog on MJ. But I speak for myself only when I say that I truly have just as much compassion and my heart breaks just as much for every soldier or any person who has died (and I am especially sad for anyone who dies without Christ). I really feel for people in general, not just celebrities by any means. I wrote averything above, though, not because MJ is more important, but because the controversy lies with him, not the soldiers. I don't think hardly anyone would disagree that we should have compassion and care for the soldiers. But nevertheless, they should not be ignored. This is just one of many examples of how the media is pretty much pure evil, or at least highly corrupted, in my humble opinion.

In closing, I think everyone should listen to Michael's song "Childhood"...it's very telling and revealing about him and might help you to come closer to viewing him as God viewed him, as the gifted but lost little boy who God just wanted to hear sing and dance for Him, not just people. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten so famous that way, but, as I'm figuring out myself, God truly is the best audience.