Life is so funny, just a tired, twisted dream sometimes...
People tell me I have joy, but I feel as though its attacked so often! I have to constantly abide in order to find that joy that comes from Him.
But that's life, isn't it?
We must stay near our Father (abide in me) in order to be full of that life abundant that He promises (You can do nothing apart from me). I must guard those precious moments when I can look into His face...especially as I approach this new school year, so full of...it's just full! Ha ha
I guess I always wonder if I've done enough...and I have a tendency (perfectionist and first born that I am) to always wonder if I've done quite enough :) I have to stop that and remember to always be putting those people and situations and the outcomes in my Father's hands.
That's the key...and grace.
Thank you for forgiveness, my Lord. Keep reminding and teaching me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVZcAzXWciQ&NR=1
Check out Sufjan Stevens...really loving his music right now.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Dust Motes and Late Night Thoughts
I had coffee...so I'm still up at 1:30 AM...joy in the morning!
Hmmm....
I process through writing (and also talking through things with other people, throwing out there the conclusions I've come to and waiting quietly while they completely dismantle it and show me the more there is to know on the issue--this sounds painful, but it's always good for me...life is humbleness for Robin, she has to learn to learn from people :)
In any case...there's no one here who really hashes things out with me (lonely) and I haven't written in my journal in forever...so I may word barf for a while right now--at least until my computer dies (and it will live forever because it's plugged into the wall MUUHHAAAHHAWWW!!!)
Please remember that it is 1:30 AM and therefore some of this may not be sane...
So I was staring at dust motes today, floating through the air. They come into the light and they glitter in this beautiful way and some of them spin and some of them just float breathlessly and others have cool curly shapes...and then they're just gone. Whee--float into the light...catch a breeze...whisper by...They don't even make any nose, they just all float together in this beautiful intircate, unexplainable pattern (except that's not the right word, I want to say that the pattern can't be fully understood and tracked by one human...like it's indesciernable, but more so...)
We are as dust motes. That was my realization.
We too float through, part of a huge group of people who will inhabit the planet. We drift by each other, some more noticeable and flashier than others (curly ones), some who have great talents (the spinners). Others just have a part to play, they make up the dance...
No one is bigger than anyother in the end. It doesn't matter how you use your time in the sun, you are still the same in front of our Maker. A dust mote, no matter the pats on the backs and ego it recieves from other dust motes, is still a dust mote. Virtually insignificant. That helps me, because I think I worry too much that the consequences for my actions will be dreadfully serious and knock everything off balance...but God showed me, today, through a dust mote, that I don't have that kind of power...
Never have...never will...
We do have great value, however, a claim which no dust mote can make. A value endowed by a Creator, who loves us very much. He puts us here not to drift through (as dust motes do) but to grow...I've recently heard this life described as a place where our souls are allowed to develop, a soul "training ground" if you will. That's the reason things aren't so cushy and effortless...we don't drift. He never wanted us to drift. We have to fight and fight hard, becuase it's only through hard work and hard times that we can grow.
I always wonder at suffering...anguished wonder. Poetry comes from these deep, uncertain places within us, where cracks have developed and everything we ever dreamed and wonder comes pouring out, becuase it can no longer be contained in the mundane life. We broke free. We see the trouble...and we have questions and we want answers and God waits...what will we say?
Job spoke to God, Job yelled, Job accused Him, he wanted to speak with Him. And God came and God had some questions for Job...
Even God has questions...
So I don't have answers, I gave up on that long ago. I have my questions, I have my doubts. I still have my ten-year-old dreams, but those have been transformed into things of beauty. I won't live for myself anymore...I've been set free. Set apart by a God who sees me as too valuable to lose. I'll live for Him now.
As dust motes, what more do we really have to offer than this tiny spot through the sun? I want to move exactly as God directs me in my tiny time of glimmer...surrendured...floating calmly, filled with His love and all the strength that comes along with that.
That would be a powerful life.
Won't you join me?
Hmmm....
I process through writing (and also talking through things with other people, throwing out there the conclusions I've come to and waiting quietly while they completely dismantle it and show me the more there is to know on the issue--this sounds painful, but it's always good for me...life is humbleness for Robin, she has to learn to learn from people :)
In any case...there's no one here who really hashes things out with me (lonely) and I haven't written in my journal in forever...so I may word barf for a while right now--at least until my computer dies (and it will live forever because it's plugged into the wall MUUHHAAAHHAWWW!!!)
Please remember that it is 1:30 AM and therefore some of this may not be sane...
So I was staring at dust motes today, floating through the air. They come into the light and they glitter in this beautiful way and some of them spin and some of them just float breathlessly and others have cool curly shapes...and then they're just gone. Whee--float into the light...catch a breeze...whisper by...They don't even make any nose, they just all float together in this beautiful intircate, unexplainable pattern (except that's not the right word, I want to say that the pattern can't be fully understood and tracked by one human...like it's indesciernable, but more so...)
We are as dust motes. That was my realization.
We too float through, part of a huge group of people who will inhabit the planet. We drift by each other, some more noticeable and flashier than others (curly ones), some who have great talents (the spinners). Others just have a part to play, they make up the dance...
No one is bigger than anyother in the end. It doesn't matter how you use your time in the sun, you are still the same in front of our Maker. A dust mote, no matter the pats on the backs and ego it recieves from other dust motes, is still a dust mote. Virtually insignificant. That helps me, because I think I worry too much that the consequences for my actions will be dreadfully serious and knock everything off balance...but God showed me, today, through a dust mote, that I don't have that kind of power...
Never have...never will...
We do have great value, however, a claim which no dust mote can make. A value endowed by a Creator, who loves us very much. He puts us here not to drift through (as dust motes do) but to grow...I've recently heard this life described as a place where our souls are allowed to develop, a soul "training ground" if you will. That's the reason things aren't so cushy and effortless...we don't drift. He never wanted us to drift. We have to fight and fight hard, becuase it's only through hard work and hard times that we can grow.
I always wonder at suffering...anguished wonder. Poetry comes from these deep, uncertain places within us, where cracks have developed and everything we ever dreamed and wonder comes pouring out, becuase it can no longer be contained in the mundane life. We broke free. We see the trouble...and we have questions and we want answers and God waits...what will we say?
Job spoke to God, Job yelled, Job accused Him, he wanted to speak with Him. And God came and God had some questions for Job...
Even God has questions...
So I don't have answers, I gave up on that long ago. I have my questions, I have my doubts. I still have my ten-year-old dreams, but those have been transformed into things of beauty. I won't live for myself anymore...I've been set free. Set apart by a God who sees me as too valuable to lose. I'll live for Him now.
As dust motes, what more do we really have to offer than this tiny spot through the sun? I want to move exactly as God directs me in my tiny time of glimmer...surrendured...floating calmly, filled with His love and all the strength that comes along with that.
That would be a powerful life.
Won't you join me?
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