Like A Lion

You b r o k e me

He helped me see

You          left me

He pushed me free

You

          let

              me

                     fall

He brought me to my knees.

My loneliness may have a name

But my rescuer is a lion, untamed,

For He is fiercer than my pain

And you who've left won't take my faith.

1:14 AM

I love one of the songs that Thomas wrote. I don't know the title, but the lyrics are amazing. My favorite part is:

"And do you know Him

And how could you come this

Far just to be the same,

Just to be the same?" 

I think about my life whenever I hear this. I'm running, I'm running, I'm running. There's always some new destination, some new goal, a new friend to make, a new activity to do, something, anything that I think will get me farther or better.... but I end up being just the same. Because, you see, I'm taking the wrong steps. I'm picking my own direction and following my own plan. And I end up being the same, feeling unsatisfied, yearning for something just around the corner that I can't put a finger on, can't quite obtain. I am insatiable; I crave a New thing. I'm hungry, I'm starving, I'm a fool with nothing to satisfy because I'm looking for satisfaction in all the wrong places. So often lately I cry out "God! Strip me down! I want to be nothing." I hope in my heart of hearts that I will be rebuilt into a different person. A New, True person. 

Yet no matter how far I come, I can not make myself any different by my own power. It's a hard lesson to learn: that you can't fix yourself. I never believed it until this past year. It used to be so easy for me to believe that whatever I worked for, sweated blood and tears for, I could achieve. I mean, come on, it's beaten into you by all of your teachers and mentors from the minute you reach comprehension and forward. "If you set your mind to it, you can be anything you want to be!" Yeah... shut up. 

If Christ doesn't completely suffuse everything I am, if I don't let Christ overwhelm me and become all of me, what am I doing? I'm barely getting by. What am I if I am not Christ? I am a shell. An empty, empty shell, with unending hunger, never full, always searching, echoing, in a world full of shells who fill themselves with useless CRAP, who cover themselves in makeup and nice clothes, who look in the mirror and say "See, I'm a normal, happy person", when really they are naked and starved, so sick they are dying, but too human to know the difference. I don't want to wake up forty years from now thinking that my life has been wasted to the point where I couldn't care less whether the sun continues to rise or not. 

I'm at a crossroads. I can't go back and there's a wall ahead of me. You from my past: thank you for helping me get this far. It's really up to you how much further you want to go with me to the next phase. You from my future: Are you going to let me in? Or are you going to watch me from the other side of the wall, contemptible at my feeble attempts to scale it? Because I'm going forward. 

Goodbye, Special K. Goodbye, Kristina. This is You in me, God. Give me a new name. A new song. It's time to be reborn. 

And Thomas's lyrics lull me to sleep. 

It's A Small World After All

"I step out onto the busy street

See a girl and our eyes meet

She does her best to smile at me

And hide what's underneath. 

There's a man just to her right

Black suit and a bright red tie

Too ashamed to tell his wife

He's out of work, he's buying time.

All those people, going somewhere,

Why have I never cared? 

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing 

Give me your love for humanity.

Give me your arms for the brokenhearted

The ones that are just beyond my reach

Give me your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see."

      --"Give me your eyes" Brandon Heath

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It's hard to write whatever it is you're feeling when you're blog is public to EVERYTHING you want to write about. A blog is suppose to bring freedom to the writer, in a sense, but all it really does is give the reader the ability to become offended and assume and really, all in all, restricts the writer from writing about whatever he or she wants because she has to think about all the potential viewers. 

There are days when my flesh wants to eat me alive, if that makes sense. I'm so tired of trying to figure out what I'm "suppose to be". What college am I suppose to go to? What am I suppose to major in? What kind of scholarships do I match the criteria for? What friends should I have? Where do I draw the line? God: this is so hard. And it's summer! It's not suppose to be hard! Right? 

Actually, I really don't care about readers right now. I am just going to talk to myself. Childish me. 

This is what has been going through my mind: 

1) College, majors, potential future careers, scholarship opportunities. 

2) God. I need to put Him first but I am going to be honest and show you and the world that the first thing that came to my head was college and not God. There's problem numero uno. 

3) My relationships with others, and potential relationships. I am a "pour-er out-er". And I want to be able to give myself equally to everyone and I can only do that with so many people before I stretch too thin. I want to be nice and friendly to everyone, of course. But I am realizing that I can only have a small group that I can really give myself to. ¿Comprendé? 

4) I love my family. My daddy just had surgery today. Pray for him. 

5) I am concerned for my friend and her friend. I'm not sure which one I'm concerned for more. 

6) Raquel: thank you again for coffee and forgiveness and a listening ear. 

7) I've been really, really getting into Bible history and such lately. Theology? It's so cool. 

8) Ashton I love you girl. Your new friendship is beyond words. 

Lalalalalalalalala.