Writing seems to be the only thing not foreign to me, lately. Today I woke up with a different kind of facial expression. I woke up feeling rejuevnated, tired, but ready all the same. I went to all of my classes, and I read all of my books. I existed more than just a homeless looking girl sitting behind a computer. Seemed like more than someone who forgot the last time she showered or wears bracelets that smell like crisco.
I understand now that they care. That it hurts so much, because they care so much. That it's hard for me to understand that people care, when they're not with me. I'm so used to people leaving me that I just have a hard time believing they're there when I physically can't hold them or see their face.
Things will be fine. We all fall into dark places for a reason, and I just hope this weekend is good. Lexie's train comes in around 9ish and I hope this weekend is filled with ridiculousness that is good for both of our souls. That it won't be disheveled and we'll be able to longboard on top of the parking garage, and throw tortilla's off the roof like last time. Blare Ben Rector and Trevor Hall while looking at the night sky. I hope for that kind of weekend. A weekend that can make me forget about this week, and only look towards good things; brighter things.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tossing and Turning.
Not sure why I allow myself to feel this way. Let anything and everything swoop up from under me and swallow me whole.
My boss tried to kill herself yesterday. You don't know her so you wouldn't know the type of shock I expirienced from the news. She was in a coma because she overdosed on her anti-depressants and here all along I've thought she was the most joyful person. So I guess I don't know her all to well, either.
Last Friday I told her about Africa. We sat at The Bow Shop for about an hour talking about the Lord and missioning and she told me she wanted to donate to help me go and also send over a box of bows to the orphanage. She told me I could have my job back when I returned, if I wanted it, that is, and I had never felt more supported. Well I had...but just the passion behind her voice reminded me of my own.
She woke up today which is awesome, and that miracle was so prayerfully centered. I took her husbands spot at work today and he updated me on everything. Said she's not exactly coherent but she know's who he is and she ate today which was good. Before leaving he told me that Tina thinks the world of me and opened his arms to give me the biggest bear hug and when he had let go, I noticed he was crying.
People surprise you. In good ways...and in bad. I allow myself to be sucked into the pit and more times than not it's so incredibly unbearable that I just look for a hand to hold. I yearn the physical touch of what it feels like to just be held amidst all this chaos. I just want to be able to let go and cry, and for someone to tell me I'm okay in doing so. But I feel alone. I open Radical and remember that I am not...but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
I can't sleep at night, but I toss and turn during the day, too.
My boss tried to kill herself yesterday. You don't know her so you wouldn't know the type of shock I expirienced from the news. She was in a coma because she overdosed on her anti-depressants and here all along I've thought she was the most joyful person. So I guess I don't know her all to well, either.
Last Friday I told her about Africa. We sat at The Bow Shop for about an hour talking about the Lord and missioning and she told me she wanted to donate to help me go and also send over a box of bows to the orphanage. She told me I could have my job back when I returned, if I wanted it, that is, and I had never felt more supported. Well I had...but just the passion behind her voice reminded me of my own.
She woke up today which is awesome, and that miracle was so prayerfully centered. I took her husbands spot at work today and he updated me on everything. Said she's not exactly coherent but she know's who he is and she ate today which was good. Before leaving he told me that Tina thinks the world of me and opened his arms to give me the biggest bear hug and when he had let go, I noticed he was crying.
People surprise you. In good ways...and in bad. I allow myself to be sucked into the pit and more times than not it's so incredibly unbearable that I just look for a hand to hold. I yearn the physical touch of what it feels like to just be held amidst all this chaos. I just want to be able to let go and cry, and for someone to tell me I'm okay in doing so. But I feel alone. I open Radical and remember that I am not...but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
I can't sleep at night, but I toss and turn during the day, too.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Shelter.
I'm sitting at school between classes biting my finger nails, not knowing what's next in my life at all. My acting teacher spots me and starts approaching-and I only bite my finger nails more because I dropped his class and I am a theatre major.
He sits next to me and says "I've missed you in class" and I proceeded to tell him that I dropped the class. He asks why and I said I was taking too much and had to focus on my other classes, my job, and preparing for Africa. He asked me about Africa and I told him. This guy who is the biggest pessimist, biggest athiest, and the stubbornest person alive said "you sound a lot like me when I was your age" and I sat stunned, eyes wide, mouth recklessly hanging open. He told me that I needed to do what I was passionate about now, so I can be motivated and have direction in my life later. In school, atleast.
He gave me tips and resources and advice on school stuff, and then said "hey, don't worry about what anyone thinks of your decision. The world needs more crazy in it" and I've never felt more lifted. I'm just sitting there learning more I ever have from a human being that I've never respected.
"You know what they say in the peace core, Kelsey? 'It's the worst decision you'll ever love'. You'll be okay."
And suddenly...I respect him more than I ever thought possible.
He sits next to me and says "I've missed you in class" and I proceeded to tell him that I dropped the class. He asks why and I said I was taking too much and had to focus on my other classes, my job, and preparing for Africa. He asked me about Africa and I told him. This guy who is the biggest pessimist, biggest athiest, and the stubbornest person alive said "you sound a lot like me when I was your age" and I sat stunned, eyes wide, mouth recklessly hanging open. He told me that I needed to do what I was passionate about now, so I can be motivated and have direction in my life later. In school, atleast.
He gave me tips and resources and advice on school stuff, and then said "hey, don't worry about what anyone thinks of your decision. The world needs more crazy in it" and I've never felt more lifted. I'm just sitting there learning more I ever have from a human being that I've never respected.
"You know what they say in the peace core, Kelsey? 'It's the worst decision you'll ever love'. You'll be okay."
And suddenly...I respect him more than I ever thought possible.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Untitled.
Trying to put into words what I've been feeling, lately. Just literally yearning for a wordly explanation, but I fall to my knees speechless.
I always expect the worst to happen at this time of year. Every year since I can remember, this season has brought me much pain. And in this season I just think about her, and him, and me, and them. I think about how I'm not bringing them any happiness for what I am doing here...just sitting and not moving. Just thinking these thoughts and going against my muscles and my heart.
Trying to form sentences, I'll go ahead and spill...
I am scared. The people I care about I can count on one hand, and the rest don't really need me or want me-I don't think. I am scared that I am already feeling this disconnectedness and that Africa will only solidify the fact that we are growing apart. That as much as we care about each other, me and the people on my one hand...I will be on a different continent. I will have a different vision. I'll be away. They won't need me.
I am scared. Entering this season makes me vulnerable and sad. Sarah and I sat on the balcony a couple nights ago smoking a cigarrette and talking about her for the first time since her funeral. Just about how close we all had gotten after she died, and how close we would all be with her if she was still alive. We talked about our last conversation, and how we saw her only 48 hours before she was gone. It's even hard to type. I just wanna curl up in a ball and cry sometimes, but try as I might...I can't muster up the tears. And the reason I can't, is because I'm afraid I'll never stop.
I am scared. About a year ago I almost lost someone I care so much about, by choice. I sit in her room a week after she tried to end her life, and I look at the wounds all up and down her and I know I can't heal her this time. That this is beyond my control, and this girl is broken more than I could ever know how to fix her. And one year later...she's still drowning.
I am scared. I am drowning myself. I keep having night terrors again and I'm literally trapped under water and I can't breathe. And when I try and come up for air, he pushes me back down and there's nothing left.
I am scared. I am going to Africa...but I know it'll all made well and clear and this is all for a purpose. You're the only one who brings me peace. Still running in circles over here. Just needing to grab onto Your hand, Daddy.
I always expect the worst to happen at this time of year. Every year since I can remember, this season has brought me much pain. And in this season I just think about her, and him, and me, and them. I think about how I'm not bringing them any happiness for what I am doing here...just sitting and not moving. Just thinking these thoughts and going against my muscles and my heart.
Trying to form sentences, I'll go ahead and spill...
I am scared. The people I care about I can count on one hand, and the rest don't really need me or want me-I don't think. I am scared that I am already feeling this disconnectedness and that Africa will only solidify the fact that we are growing apart. That as much as we care about each other, me and the people on my one hand...I will be on a different continent. I will have a different vision. I'll be away. They won't need me.
I am scared. Entering this season makes me vulnerable and sad. Sarah and I sat on the balcony a couple nights ago smoking a cigarrette and talking about her for the first time since her funeral. Just about how close we all had gotten after she died, and how close we would all be with her if she was still alive. We talked about our last conversation, and how we saw her only 48 hours before she was gone. It's even hard to type. I just wanna curl up in a ball and cry sometimes, but try as I might...I can't muster up the tears. And the reason I can't, is because I'm afraid I'll never stop.
I am scared. About a year ago I almost lost someone I care so much about, by choice. I sit in her room a week after she tried to end her life, and I look at the wounds all up and down her and I know I can't heal her this time. That this is beyond my control, and this girl is broken more than I could ever know how to fix her. And one year later...she's still drowning.
I am scared. I am drowning myself. I keep having night terrors again and I'm literally trapped under water and I can't breathe. And when I try and come up for air, he pushes me back down and there's nothing left.
I am scared. I am going to Africa...but I know it'll all made well and clear and this is all for a purpose. You're the only one who brings me peace. Still running in circles over here. Just needing to grab onto Your hand, Daddy.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Basket case.
I am this and I am that and I am just everything in between. I am a basket case.
I sit feverishly cold in my comfty bed last night, just praying for them. Praying for the children left hungry, cold, and alone...without even the comfort of touch, much less the warm bed I'm sitting in. I pray for the children at Amani, and Amazimi, and I pray and pray and pray for those little hearts in Ekisa. I pray for Debrah and Walter and Zac as I don't know them and they don't know me-but I sure do love them all the same. They are taped all over my walls and just plastered across my heart. I bend low like Katie Davis and I pray hard like anyone who listens to God and I just yearn for change. I yearn and thirst for a change in the world and a change in my heart. I am a basket case. That's what I am.
I sit feverishly cold in my comfty bed last night, just praying for them. Praying for the children left hungry, cold, and alone...without even the comfort of touch, much less the warm bed I'm sitting in. I pray for the children at Amani, and Amazimi, and I pray and pray and pray for those little hearts in Ekisa. I pray for Debrah and Walter and Zac as I don't know them and they don't know me-but I sure do love them all the same. They are taped all over my walls and just plastered across my heart. I bend low like Katie Davis and I pray hard like anyone who listens to God and I just yearn for change. I yearn and thirst for a change in the world and a change in my heart. I am a basket case. That's what I am.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Graceful. Gracious. Grace.
"I am painfully concious of my need for further grace."
I am ashamed of my lack of desire. I am ashamed at my lack of desire.
Why is life like this? Why aren't we truly and madly in love with our creator? Like what? Why am I not striving to love Him and to please Him every moment I have the chance? And even when I don't have the chance. Even when it's inconvinient why am I not thirsty to go to great lengths to be with Him like I would for anyone I love. Like driving 4 and a half hours to Waco to be with my wonderful Kivu community. Like spending hours on end trying to convince my friend that her life is worth living. Like ditching homework and everything else going on because my other friend was heartbroken. Like holding someone when they cry and letting their tears soak into your vneck. Like sacrificing so much for the one you love. Or the friends you cherish. Or the family you're in. Why are we not surrendering everything for Yahweh. Why.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Unexpected change.
I'm sitting here at work, watching all the lonely faces go by and I can't help but feel atleast a little bit blessed. Not because there's all this brokeness around me-but that I am not alone.
For some reason, I keep believing this lie. I know it is a lie because I know that God has very specific ways of using me, and I never get a big head about it because it's always Him. But the lie was very convincing and Satan keeps whispering in my ear is "Kelsey...no one needs you. No one. Quit trying. If your God was all powerful then He'd show up, and where is He now?" He just sat perched on my shoulders all day, weighing me down. And that feeling of defeat swept over my whole body and no matter what anyone said to try and relieve it-it was louder than ever.
This stupid but very loud lie kept resounding in my head for the last couple weeks. At first I tried to shut it out, then I tried to talk it out, then I tried to let people convince me otherwise, but nothing worked. I would wake up feeling anxious and lonely and I would just stay in my room in my bed just dreading any form of Vitamin D because I was alone. And nothing and no one could change that. Yesterday I woke up for school and I just couldn't will myself out of bed, so I didn't. I prayed for hours and I opened Job and started to let it pour out all over me but I couldn't hear God. I didn't doubt His presence, but I was hearing Satan way more than Him and it scared me. Hunter and I sat on my favorite roof last night just talking. I tried explaining all of this, but it's jut hard to put into words. Even now I struggle with which buttons to press because it's all so stuck in my head and it's all so painful. And as I was talking to Hunt today about how loud and obnoxious the devil's voice was...something happened.
I reached in my fridge and took a big swig of my mango OJ because that always seems to lift my spirits. I burned a stick of nag and I opened my bible with a sigh, knowing I would be going straight to Job-like always. And right as I opened it...a neatly folded, but torn piece of paper fell into my lap. I mean if that wasn't already a direct sign from the good Lord, I don't know what would be. On the outside it said "SIDD...sorry I don't date" and tears and laughter escaped my body, and I knew it was from Hunter. She had given it to on one of the last days of camp and I guess I had stuck it in my bible after I'd read it. I hadn't read it sense and there it was, sitting on my lap, waiting to be opened.
"So like why is He so good to us? Kels, the Lord is ALWAYS working. How can we ever doubt?"
WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT. Hunter said something to me just minutes before about how she's really excited I get to have lunch with 2 of my campers, tomorrow. She told me to remember how I've impacted their lives and I just couldn't think of it because it made me think of camp and that hurt. So I didn't think about it, which was even worse because I needed to. I needed to remember how God used me because He did in HUGE ways.
"I know you're worried about tomorrow and scared to let Caitlyn go-but He is faithful. Kels, He knows what He's doing whether we see it or not. He is always moving when we least expect change."
OKAY LITERALLY VOMMING. Caitlyn was one of my favorite campers. She's sassy and outgoing, but you know that there's so much going on beneath the surface. So at camp, I dug. I took her aside while we were sitting in God's creating on a bridge over the river, the mountains everywhere you looked and breathing in only the good. I asked her how her year was. It didn't take her alot to tell me...everything. About her drinking problem that started at 15...about her parents divorce...and about her dad's violent behavior. Caitlyn was living in one of the most abusive home's I had ever heard about. Stuff that happened even right before she entered the gates of camp. And I knew that my story now made sense, and I knew that God put her in my cabin for a reason, and I knew she needed to be delivered. That she wanted to be. When Hunter gave me this note, it was the day of parents day. The day her dad was going to come through these same gates, and take my Caitlyn away from me. This safe place she had been in for 2 weeks was about to be diminished and I was breaking in more ways than I ever thought possible. Only hours after Hunter left this note on my backpack, the women's director of camp came up to me. She told me that Caitlyn's mom was here to pick her up, and that she wasn't going home with her dad anymore. I have never felt this kind of pure joy in my life and all I knew to do was to get on my knees and pray to the one true Daddy that would never fail us.
So as I read Hunter's note, I began to sob. We both had no clue what was about to happen just hours after I read the crinkled piece of paper.
"Kels, He knows what He's doing whether we see it or not. He is always moving when we least expect change."
It's been ringing in my head all day. That, and "How can we EVER doubt." I can never doubt.
For some reason, I keep believing this lie. I know it is a lie because I know that God has very specific ways of using me, and I never get a big head about it because it's always Him. But the lie was very convincing and Satan keeps whispering in my ear is "Kelsey...no one needs you. No one. Quit trying. If your God was all powerful then He'd show up, and where is He now?" He just sat perched on my shoulders all day, weighing me down. And that feeling of defeat swept over my whole body and no matter what anyone said to try and relieve it-it was louder than ever.
This stupid but very loud lie kept resounding in my head for the last couple weeks. At first I tried to shut it out, then I tried to talk it out, then I tried to let people convince me otherwise, but nothing worked. I would wake up feeling anxious and lonely and I would just stay in my room in my bed just dreading any form of Vitamin D because I was alone. And nothing and no one could change that. Yesterday I woke up for school and I just couldn't will myself out of bed, so I didn't. I prayed for hours and I opened Job and started to let it pour out all over me but I couldn't hear God. I didn't doubt His presence, but I was hearing Satan way more than Him and it scared me. Hunter and I sat on my favorite roof last night just talking. I tried explaining all of this, but it's jut hard to put into words. Even now I struggle with which buttons to press because it's all so stuck in my head and it's all so painful. And as I was talking to Hunt today about how loud and obnoxious the devil's voice was...something happened.
I reached in my fridge and took a big swig of my mango OJ because that always seems to lift my spirits. I burned a stick of nag and I opened my bible with a sigh, knowing I would be going straight to Job-like always. And right as I opened it...a neatly folded, but torn piece of paper fell into my lap. I mean if that wasn't already a direct sign from the good Lord, I don't know what would be. On the outside it said "SIDD...sorry I don't date" and tears and laughter escaped my body, and I knew it was from Hunter. She had given it to on one of the last days of camp and I guess I had stuck it in my bible after I'd read it. I hadn't read it sense and there it was, sitting on my lap, waiting to be opened.
"So like why is He so good to us? Kels, the Lord is ALWAYS working. How can we ever doubt?"
WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT. Hunter said something to me just minutes before about how she's really excited I get to have lunch with 2 of my campers, tomorrow. She told me to remember how I've impacted their lives and I just couldn't think of it because it made me think of camp and that hurt. So I didn't think about it, which was even worse because I needed to. I needed to remember how God used me because He did in HUGE ways.
"I know you're worried about tomorrow and scared to let Caitlyn go-but He is faithful. Kels, He knows what He's doing whether we see it or not. He is always moving when we least expect change."
OKAY LITERALLY VOMMING. Caitlyn was one of my favorite campers. She's sassy and outgoing, but you know that there's so much going on beneath the surface. So at camp, I dug. I took her aside while we were sitting in God's creating on a bridge over the river, the mountains everywhere you looked and breathing in only the good. I asked her how her year was. It didn't take her alot to tell me...everything. About her drinking problem that started at 15...about her parents divorce...and about her dad's violent behavior. Caitlyn was living in one of the most abusive home's I had ever heard about. Stuff that happened even right before she entered the gates of camp. And I knew that my story now made sense, and I knew that God put her in my cabin for a reason, and I knew she needed to be delivered. That she wanted to be. When Hunter gave me this note, it was the day of parents day. The day her dad was going to come through these same gates, and take my Caitlyn away from me. This safe place she had been in for 2 weeks was about to be diminished and I was breaking in more ways than I ever thought possible. Only hours after Hunter left this note on my backpack, the women's director of camp came up to me. She told me that Caitlyn's mom was here to pick her up, and that she wasn't going home with her dad anymore. I have never felt this kind of pure joy in my life and all I knew to do was to get on my knees and pray to the one true Daddy that would never fail us.
So as I read Hunter's note, I began to sob. We both had no clue what was about to happen just hours after I read the crinkled piece of paper.
"Kels, He knows what He's doing whether we see it or not. He is always moving when we least expect change."
It's been ringing in my head all day. That, and "How can we EVER doubt." I can never doubt.
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