I remember the bully that called me 'that' name, the others who pointed hoping to shame, the pain from disease that kept me from sleep, the things that I lost which I wanted to keep, the loved ones who passed without saying goodbye, the promises broken by both others and I, unwritten stories, unread books on the shelf, disappointed with others, disappointed with self...
On and on I could list the regrets that ring true, but it's only fair to include the other things too. The love from my family, support from my friends, new opportunities, dreams that began, wisdom I found through my journey with pain, and the me I once lost somehow showed up again. Now today as you near the close of this year, focus on what brought you joy and not just the tears. Everything works together, for a much bigger plan. In the end we can see it was all in God's hands.
Follow with dilligence what you're meant to do. Ask, seek, and knock til you find the best you. ~JDL
It is said that those who blog should never apologize for
NOT blogging when they get behind. Yet, I must. For far too much time has
passed from one who supposedly loves to write. I apologize mostly to myself for
priorities misplaced.
Why do I not write? Why do I constantly just write about why
I don’t write instead of actually writing what I should write? I sit upon a burning fire knowing that eventually it shall extinguish if I refuse to move. What a waste to be left with nothing but painful scars.
I’m weary of blaming ‘worry,’ tired of blaming ‘fear.’
Though fear still remains, it can not be blamed totally. Identified, fear has
lost some of it’s power. Laziness seems to have crept in. Shall I blame it
instead?
Oh, I’m not lazy generally. In fact, my schedule screams
otherwise…school, work, family, church…study, study, study…housework,
housework, housework. Perfection demands constant attendance.
So why blame laziness? Because it feels like laziness. When I do stop for a breath, when I finally do
catch a few hours of ‘me’ time, I opt for sleep, television (albeit but little)
or staring in space contemplating what is ahead.
I feel lazy because I’m not being productive during these
times. Yes, sleep is important, but what about this dream to write? What about
this burning within me to create…to share. I feel as if I’m destined to birth
something great…well great for me anyway. But somehow I’m way past my due date.
If it is held inside me for too long I wonder if it will die? Or will I?
All I know is that I’m not heeding to life within. Instead I
follow the ‘they’ and the ‘them’…’those’ who know so little about me and
probably care far less then I give them credit for.I seek to please when I should be pleased to
seek. Seeking something greater than those connected with insecurities. There is this voice that pulls me to care less and do more.Wisdom begs me take another road.
Less caring for their thoughts would provide more energy for
action thus leading to a transparency, authenticity. Is it a personality
defect, habit, survival mechanism…this depending on the approval of you?
Hmmmm….perhaps it’s not laziness I feel but actually
exhaustion. Rejection, not being good enough, perfection.I must make up for what I think you think of
me even though what you think is not what I am. Oh the weariness of
imagination. So with all the wondering (and wandering) I must aim higher...to be even better. To prove to you
I am more than I think you think I am. (Confused? Imagine how I feel most
days…overthinking, analyzing, critiquing...myself mainly.)
I weary with such process of compensation and end up not being
the joyful me…the one I like better, the one 'those' who truly know of me like best.
It’s easier to sleep. Easier to R.E.M. than to work toward real dreams. And that is lazy
thinkin. Wow...I’m back to where I'd started from. All that to say I’m sorry for not
writing. No wonder I’m so tired!
So off to sleep I go…Perhaps tomorrow I shall awake to truly
dream.
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. ~T.E. Lawrence
Below is a review I wrote for my university newspaper. The film really made me think about relationships in my own life. Just had to share! ~jdl A short film called "I Forgot My Phone" published on YouTube this week has gone viral after only a day. Although the film is barely over two minutes, its message appears longer lasting. What is it about this short film that has people talking? The film portray a young woman who goes through the day without her phone while everyone else in her life seems glued to theirs. Everywhere she turns to connect with others, she finds phones have become a sort of barrier to true connection. Friends and strangers alike appear pathetic as they desperately attempt to virtually connect to others or capture memories, while in reality missing out on the ‘real’ connections and memories before them. Director Miles Crawford and writer-star Charlene deGuzman attempt to portray through this short film how 'disconnected' we really are in such a constantly connected world.
The worst solitude is to have no real friendships. ~Francis Bacon
I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my
friends, the old and the new. Shall I not call God the Beautiful, who daily
showeth himself so to me in his gifts? I chide society, I embrace solitude, and
yet I am not so ungrateful as not to see the wise, the lovely and the
noble-minded, as from time to time they pass my gate. Who hears me, who
understands me, becomes mine, -a possession for all time. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson (Friendship 1841)
"I chide society, I embrace solitude..." That is so me. Yet, am I so ungrateful as not to see those who "pass my gate?" I seek that friend "who hears me" and "understands me" while at the same time, I tend to run or hide away. Perhaps I do not even deserve such friendship. Over the years there have been some that have come close to understanding the real me, yet only one has ever truly heard me, understood me and chose to stay. When I have moments of loneliness, whether real or imagined, I can go to him and he's always there.
Below are some excerpts from C.H. Spurgeon's sermon "The Best Friend."
"True friends are very scarce. We have a great many acquaintances and sometimes we call them friends, and so misuse the noble word “friendship.” Peradventure in some after-day of adversity when these so-called friends have looked out for their own interests and left us to do the best we can for ourselves, that word friendship may come back to us with sad and sorrowful associations."
"The friend in need is the friend indeed, and such friends I say again, are scarce. When thou hast found such a man, and proved the sincerity of his friendship; when he has been faithful to thy father and to thee, grapple him to thyself with hooks of steel and never let him go...."
"It is no friendship that flatters; it is small friendship that holds its tongue when it ought to speak; but it is true friendship that can speak at the right time and if need be even speak so sharply as to cause a wound."
"...there is a Friend who is the chief and highest of all friends... He is a true and real Friend... there is no friend to whom we ought to be so intensely attached as to him..."
Friend of sinners, is his name.
And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time. ~Jesus
Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there
is no path and leave a trail. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
I LOVE READING
This week I thought with dismay how summer will soon end and I have yet to cross reading and writing off my summer to-do-list.
I couldn't wait for spring classes to end so I could enjoy some summer reading. Oh to pick up some of my favorite reads by authors like Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Charles Dickens, Ralph Waldo Emerson or C.S. Lewis and just sit on a beach somewhere and read! (A girl can dream can't she?)
Also I had planned on reading some poetry and perhaps even writing some of my own. And of course to blog!
But instead my summer classes have been far more busier than expected. Never did I imagine so much information would come to me so fast! No sooner than I finish an assignment, another is due! I've done so much 'reading and writing' that I haven't been able to read or write! (Make sense?) All this required reading leaves no time for 'me' reading.
Funny thing is, I'm wondering if some of my favorite authors didn't just decide that if I wasn't coming to them, they'd come to me...for just today Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson decided to show up among my required reading. What a pleasant surprise!
What fun to read (and a requirement at that) about Emerson and his influences on the Supreme Court. My studies in the past have always been through the eyes of English teachers or philosophers, not the legal setting. So I'm getting to see him in a different light.
I plan on writing more about him and other authors, after I find my own path. But until these summer classes end, I must follow the path that others lead.
So basically this post is just a little intro for the few posts soon to follow. Hoping to find the time between summer class studies to share excerpts and thoughts from some of my favorite authors.
“Tis the good reader that makes the good book; in every book he finds passages which seem confidences or asides hidden from all else and unmistakenly meant for his ear; the profit of books is according to the sensibility of the reader; the profoundest thought or passion sleeps as in a mine, until it is discovered by an equal mind and heart.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Over thinker I am! Overanalyzing seems to be a forte (or downfall?) of mine. And that's what I did when I realized how much time had elapsed between the last post and this. Why so much white space for such a lengthy gap of time? Such silence! Maybe I've been avoiding writing because 'writing on' would push aside the last post and dishonor my friend somehow?
Writing on...even living on...can seem apathetic at times like this.
Then another thought. Maybe it's nothing more than a fear of failure...yep...here I go again. For if I don't write, I won't erase. And of course (to me) erasing is yet another reminder to how often I fail.
If only I could erase Fear !
But like the others whom I have loved and lost, my latest loss would never expect me to die merely because she had. Instead she would push me to carry on, to live...to write. So I must find the strength to get past such silly fears and look to bigger aspirations.
Lately I've been watching sports videos of people who have overcome various obstacles. I am constantly amazed at the strength some people have. It's especially impressive to watch runners with fatigue or injury continue a race even when they know winning is no longer a possibility. To them finishing is non-negotiable. Even if it means crawling, these people will pull up every last ounce of strength to cross that finish line. What inspiration!
Oh to find that kind of strength!
Winning may only be possible for a few, but finishing is realistic for all. To win is not always in your control, but finishing is always a choice. So 'find your strong'
and keep going...
*And to all my fellow fearful writers...'find your strong' and write on!
“Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong.” ~Sarah Dessen
“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” ~Anne Lamott
I first met her in a little
primary Sunday school class. I was the new kid from Florida and in a Kansas
town that merited being the center of attention; at least for the first day.
Unlike me, she loved attention, and quickly determined to make me and my sisters
her friends.
I don’t remember what drew
me to her first. Her red hair and personality were equally fiery. I do know
that I was enthralled to find someone with more freckles than me.
We really had little in
common. I was the oldest of three girls, quiet and serious, often with my nose
in a book.She an only child (well the only
child still at home), admittingly spoiled and used to getting her way. She
loved parties, singing and chatting.
We were an unlikely pair,
but we both had freckles and the same birthday month, so of course we just had to be friends. And that’s a big deal when you’re nine you know.
The next six years probably
flew by to our parents, but to us, it seemed forever.We shared fun times, secrets and dreams...those years where we went from little girl to young woman. We
watched each other grow not just outwardly, but on the inside as well.
So many memories I could
share. And over time I shall.
But while creating those
memories never in a million years did we imagine this ending. Never did we
realize as we were growing up together we were also growing apart.
Over the years she and I always
lived within an hour of each other, yet busyness and the cares of life caused
us to appear oceans apart. Now we are world’s apart and as the reminder of her death
begins to sting again I ask those dreaded “What if’s?” and “Why’s?”
Regret is tortuous, guilt
can maim…so instead I must lay it all at my creator’s feet and trust the
silence, knowing in his time answers may come. And if not, he himself is always
the answer, forever our comforter.
Tonight was her memorial
service. I expected some sort of closure but none came. In fact the service was
extra short and it seemed everyone was to afraid to speak. I wanted to scream.
Wanted to yell at everyone. Why isn’t anyone telling her story? Why isn’t
anyone singing her song? Why? Why? Why?
Yet nothing. There had to be
something…something more than the tears around me. Something more than this
deafening, uncomfortable silence. Then a finger pointed back at me…reminding me
that I too did nothing but sit. I who had shared so many childhood memories
also did nothing but stare. Waiting for another to say what I would not, or
could not.
"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” ~C.S. Lewis
Oh how I
wish I had been brave enough to speak tonight. For there were so many stories
for me and others to share...but there I sat...shocked, dumbfounded, confused.
Still not really believing any of this.
No
relationship is perfect, all come with some element of pain...Yes I do regret that we lost touch over the years and wonder why our paths diverged.
But I'm thankful for those early years shared, the memories that will always be a part of
me.
Not sure why
most of us chose not to speak at the service, part of mine was no doubt fear. But I now believe that the silence probably said more than any of us could have.
The more I
thought about that awkward silence the more I heard her speak to me.Life is more than a party. One day the
music, the voices, the laughter will be gone. One day the lights go out and you
are left alone.
What
happens then?
And as I listen to one of the songs played at her memorial service..."When I Call On Jesus"...I am reminded that there is more to
this life.
We can get so busy living
that dying doesn’t cross our mind. Not until it happens to someone close.
Someone who is part of who we are. Part of our history. Part of our heart. And it is with this death of my childhood
friend, that another part of me died this month. But it is also with this death
that I felt a sort of rebirth.
Hope. New beginnings. A
chance to make things right with those I still have near. A chance to draw
closer to my creator, my savior and dearest friend. Another chance to fulfill
the purpose he planned for me.
None of us
are promised tomorrow. No matter health, age, or circumstance. With the loss of this friend I am reminded to live intentionally, to live each day as if it were
my last, and to treat those around me as if it may be theirs.
If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting? ~Stephen Levine
