gomer

the sun is beating down on my leather-tanned skin and the wind is kissing my tousled curls in this desolate place. my mouth is dry, and the tumbleweeds keep scratching at my ankles. there's nothing as far as the eye can see except for shards of ceramic, plastic from what used to be tents, and sand. lots and lots of sand. and tumbleweeds. i bend down to pick up a shard of ceramic only to find some sort of ancient inscription on it. and it's then that i realize the full weight of where i am. now if only i can remember how i got here...

it must have started like any other story, with a woman in desperate need of rescue from her tattered and humbly patched up rag of a life. the story probably would have found her sitting curled up somewhere, hoping that her life would be more than the meager existence that it has turned out to be. it would find her broken, seeking for adventure and desiring for love to wrap her around from the inside out. it would quickly reveal that she has found emptiness in her achievements and would rather be poor and happy than accomplished and lonely. not that she's not surrounded by doting friends and family, but it just...doesn't cut it for some reason in her heart. this story will find her lacking.

and then, he will parade into her life like a white knight riding up to save his princess. and she will be floored. she will shower him with thankfulness and words and kindness to repay only a fraction of the love she feels emanating from inside of him. he will help her up onto his horse, and they will ride into the sunset, accomplishing what looks like a happy ever after.

of course, no man can ride a horse forever. they will slow down and eventually stop to rest. she will be setting up camp, completely content in the lack of forward motion. for as long as she is with her knight in shining armor, nothing could go wrong. but she will notice that he is gone from the camp longer and longer every night and that she is left to her own sentiments and feeling the same amount of lonely as the day he found her. she will be made painfully aware that the lonliness she feels cannot and will not be cured by his words or his touch.

setting, point of view, conflict, plot....the story will continue.

she will realize that she must make this walk alone, although she will dearly miss her hero. she's not very good with directions but she is sure that if she follows the sun, she will find her way. she doesn't even say goodbye to her knight, she just starts walking, hoping that this night will find her in a better place than the agonies of contentment.

and it's then she will find it. sitting on the side of the beaten path where millions must have trod yet nobody had cared to find it. what girl doesn't love some good gold? her curiosity will get the best of her and when she reaches down to pick it up, it will jump a good hundred feet into the bush. without thinking twice, she will chase it. perhaps her thoughts are silly and frivolous, that of a girl. perhaps she is thinking, "if i can just get that piece of gold, i will be instantly more beautiful." or perhaps, the only thing running through her mind is "if i can find where this gold came from, i can find the source, something even greater than the gold..."

the gold will keep skipping up in front of her, so quickly that her quick paced walk will turn into a jog, a run, and eventually a sprint. and she won't notice that the path is quickly disappearing from underneath her feet, that the bushes are housing less and less leaves, that the trees are shrinking, that everything around her is losing its green lush color and turning to brown. she won't even notice that her knight hasn't come looking for her. it won't cross her mind.

the plot thickens...the climax is here...and the story will continue.

the knight will leave her there in the comforts of a beautiful camp in the middle of a forest, hoping that a more capable knight will come along who is better suited to rescue her in his mind. she will continue chasing this small piece of something that represents something more for her. and she won't stop for days, weeks...maybe even months.

and then the gold will stop right in front of her.
she will snatch it.
only to find that sand is slipping through her hands and not soil.

and this is where the story must have found me. panicked and wondering how in the world i found myself in this place. but as i lean down to pick up this ceramic shard that's half buried by the sand (you must remember that this is where our story began)...i find a hebraic inscription saying "i am my Beloved's and His desire is towards me." there must have been women from ages and centuries and lifetimes ago that were found in this same place. which is encouraging, seeing as how i haven't found any bones yet.

He comes and takes the gold piece from my hand so quickly that my shock doesn't even realize it. and He is there, standing before me and asking me to take a walk with Him. He tells me how He loves me so, and that He's been trying for years to tell me, but my stubborn heart wouldn't listen. He tells me that it's time for me to have some time with Him to hear His confessions of love whispered gently in my ear. He tells me that He is the one that lured me here, because there was no other way i might listen. i fall to my knees in repentance, and cry out over and over again, "i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry..."
to which He replies, "I remember you, child. I remember the days I held you on my knee and you would laugh that laugh that comes from within you, the laugh that had nothing to remember but joy. I remember the days I held you as you sobbed and cried and tried to forget the damage that had been done. I let the tears come just like you did when you blamed me for the everything. I have always loved you, and it is time. it is time to stop calling Me 'Master' and start calling me 'Husband.'"
and as i walk with him, the sand starts sprouting ivy, and the grapes appear instantaneously. life comes to this supposed desert land, and my heart leaps from within me. i look into His eyes and begin to laugh. from inside of me, a song starts spilling over my lips and i sing. i sing the song that i've held inside for my entire life. i am no longer afraid to hear my confessions of love. i sing and laugh and dance and sing some more.

i have found myself in the wilderness, and He brought me here.
and i find myself no longer hoping to be rescued,
but i know i must walk away from this place someday.
i will cherish this time i have with Him, the One who will never stop loving me.


“therefore, behold, I will allure her, will bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfort to her. I will give her her vineyards from there, and the Valley of Achor as a door of hope; she shall sing there, as in the days of her youth, as in the day when she came up from the land of Egypt. and it shall be, in that day,” says the LORD, "that you will call Me ‘My Husband," and no longer call Me ‘My Master.'" [hosea 2:14-16]

seven days' truth

but my darling, when did your arms grow so cold?
why didn't you tell me that love wasn't to be found?
what did you find in me that compelled you to run?
who are you anymore? i don't know who this man is who stands before me.

i get lost in the music, you get lost in the crowd
and i know you must wonder if i miss you even in the slightest.
i've been really good at putting on a smile,
but then again, you've always been able to see right through it.
you probably know how much it hurts me to be without you.

my heart is beating, but i'm all disconnected
my lungs are pumping and you still take my breath away
i can still feel you teasing my hair between your fingers, if even for a second
my body is moving, but my soul is limping and my heart is breaking
your presence lingers and trails me everywhere i go
i answer their questions blankly, feeling nothing yet knowing
the emptiness i feel is just me realizing the spot you occupied

nobody understands how much it hurts
how badly i want you back, and the worst part?
knowing that i can't change your mind.
i just have to live with the fact that you are gone
and we might never be ever again.

i hope you never see this
because i never want you to know how much i loved you.

museum

worthiness and beauty are very important when considering a piece of art.

worthy, worthy, worthy. is it worth something? will it contribute to my apartment in a greater way or will it not make even the slightest ripple in the way things are done? i'd like to think that i could buy a painting and when i look at it, i am inspired to create, to live, to become a better me. i'd like to think that the work of art i invest in will actually impact me in a way i won't soon forget.

beauty. even if it's worth the money, who would want an ugly painting? but that's quite self-explanatory, don't you think? i mean, nobody gets inspired by something they can hardly look at. and beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. my trash/get-this-piece-of-wannabe-art-away-from-me is another man's treasured and cherished beautiful prize. so really, the beauty of it is quite subjective.

anyhow, the trick is in the appraiser's hands. they get to tell me how much the piece of art is worth. they can lie to me and tell me that it's worth nothing, or they can give it more value than it's actually worth because of the potential they see in it. sometimes, a piece of art doesn't really become beautiful until longer down the road, and that's why it's a good investment sometimes to just go ahead and set your heart to save up for the painting while it's not as costly. you just hope that it doesn't take all you have for absolutely no return. that appraiser can use his thorough knowledge of the work to tell me exactly what it's worth.

i guess i should just get to the question.
who is appraising my life?
it's most absolutely my choice. i'm the one who decides who i allow to give me my worth. am i going to give it to him, the one who broke my heart, or Him, the One who mends it and makes me whole once again? i have to decide who i will love more fiercely and whose voice i will allow to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. the applause of man is unreliable, but there is One whose love for me is thoroughly consistent. i'd much rather be given too much worth than not enough. say you didn't love me, but He did and that's what i'll hold tight to for the rest of my life.





...my brain is thriving on analogies.

nameless

no more games
it's only me, left alone with my fears
every certainty
has been stripped from me, and i'm losing ground

and yet it's in my weakness that You find me
and You sing a new song over me: (You say)

"I Am that I am
and My eyes will guide you;
I Am that I am
and your heart is safe in Mine"

one look inside,
i understand it's been me that's changing
the wind blows by
i'm wondering why i can't find peace of mind

and here it's in my sorrow that You find me
and You sing a new song over me: (You say)

"I Am that I am
and My eyes will guide you;
I Am that I am
and your heart is safe in Mine"

so i find myself in a sea of questions
and i'm lost inside the lies
and i hear you speaking to me
and i know You hear my cries.

yet it's here in my surrender that you find me
and you sing a new song over me: (You declare)

"I Am that I am
and My eyes will guide you;
I Am that I am
and your heart is safe in Mine"

i'm fine. really, i am.

sometimes, life throws you a curveball that knocks you square in the face and lands you on your backside in front of a crowd. and sometimes, life throws you a curveball that's a bit off course, but you manage to hit it and turn it into a homerun.

i'm just wondering which kind of pitch this is.