courage

PTL. Sin of fear slowly getting conquered, piece by piece, trial by trial. I've never in my life done or wanted to do what I got to do today, and I've also never felt that brave. The aftermath was overwhelming, butterflies-in-my-stomach, shuddering-like-it's-the-dead-of-winter kind of nervousness and relief. Courage only God can give.

Afterwards, He told me,

It is not about your reputation, your relationships with others, your life group, your church, your contributions, your work ethic, your intelligence, your creativity, your past, your future, your flaws, your emotions, your pain, your money, your education, or even why you are who you are. Most of these things are important in the process of things. Some of them you do need to work on. But how many times do I have to tell you? You are not reaching out in order to build relationships. You are not contributing for the sake of contributing. These things should be part of the process, not the goal. Instead, you should be doing all these things for my glory, and mine alone.. For if you struggle or collapse in one area, it does no good to yell at me as you have in the past, but it does all the wonders in the world to thank me for the trial, then courageously ask for my help.

this is so beautiful :)

Words I Couldn't Say - Leighton Meester (country cover)


In a book, in a box, in the closet
In a line, in a song I once heard
In a moment on a front porch late one June
In a breath inside a whisper beneath the moon

There it was at the tips of my fingers
There it was on the tip of my tongue
There you were and I had never been that far
There it was the whole world wrapped inside my arms
And I let it all slip away

What do I do now that you're gone?
No back up plan, no second chance
And no one else to blame
All I can hear in the silence that remains
Are the words I couldn't say

There's a rain that will never stop falling
There's a wall that I tried to take down
What I should have said just wouldn't pass my lips
So I held back and now we've come to this
And it's too late now.

I'm aware of what the real message is, but for me, the song resonates with the lack of confidence I have in praying out loud.. What are you so afraid of? The opportunity God is asking for to speak through you is given only once in that one instance, that one specific moment in time. There is no going back to relive it, and you can only try again in the future, in another setting. In a similar way,

1 Corinthians 14:16-17 If you are praising God with your spirit, how can one who finds himself among those who do not understand say "Amen" to your thanksgiving, since he does not know what you are saying? You may be giving thanks well enough, but the other man is not edified.

The unspoken words of the past will never exist except in your regret. There is no second chance.. Thus, in the words of Taylor Swift, speak now. :)

my november guest

Robert Frost, 1915.

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

The best part about this poem.. is not the nature or the personification of sorrow, but the speaker's transformation, upon finally receiving the ability to love that which he once always found so difficult to love.

FAVORITE books.

Here you go!

1. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger

I don't know ANYONE who didn't like Catcher in the Rye. I thought it was funny and terribly depressing at the same time. It's about a boy who gets kicked out of boarding school for the billionth time and just wanders around, finding things for himself to do in a very whimsical and, at times, passive-aggressive way.





2. The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls

I wrote one of my umich application essays on this novel because it is SO GOOD. It's so honest and endearing, detailing a very lively family lifestyle headed by an intellectual but destructive alcoholic father.







3. The Secret Life of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd

The reason why I really, really like it while a lot of people don't is probably because it's kind of girly and doesn't have any particularly engaging direction. It's a coming-of-age novel about a fourteen-year-old girl somewhat tracing her deceased mother's footsteps. I love the way she thinks because it's so much like my own thought process.. I think I've gushed about beekeeping too before :).




4. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have liked The Great Gatsby if we hadn't dissected it in high school. But I'm so glad we did because there is a heck lot of symbolism and talk about the American dream, which can get really sentimental and deep. I'm sure most of you have already read it for school though!




5. Le Petit Prince, Antoine Saint-Exupery

AHH. I love the complex simplicity of this book. It's so cute but it's crazy deep. Read ittt :) If you can read French, I'll let you borrow my copy!







6. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

I think I just really like historical coming-of-age stories. And symbolism of trees :) This novel also talks a lot about the American dream too, and the early 1900s American education system, both of which are SUPER interesting, in all seriousness.

scratching the surface

Like You spilled Your blood, I spill my heart as an offering.
-Hillsong

I really got broken at this past retreat. Always when that happens, I get stubborn. Most of the time I get angry or irritated at God, and myself. This time I'm so sad.. I've realized that I relish this handful of relationships in my life that have become tainted with satan's work. I love these people, and I love their approval and being on good terms with them so much yet I can't keep on this way with them because satan has indirectly used each of them to hurt my relationship with God.

Are you willing to sacrifice human relationships for a stronger relationship with God? At one time I thought this wasn't possible, because doesn't God want you to build relationships and love people? But an older sister told me, loving someone doesn't mean becoming best friends with them, or hanging out with them often, as Christ-centered as it may be. Loving someone sometimes means confronting the fact that the person is causing you to idolize and sin, and it means sacrificing that relationship with him or her for the glory of God. Even if neither of you have done anything particularly wrong to each other, satan's messed with your feelings and your motives, and the consequences all wound your heart.

So the only way to let God heal your heart, is to let go...

thoughts of a dining hall substitute greeter

I am so tired.
I just saw him, whom I replaced, and he laughed
You're still early!
I have time-related stress.
The hallway is empty
Occasional man in a suit, woman confused
Where is the bathroom?
It is down that hall - which hall?
I don't know.. I'm not familiar.. That one?
A boy smiles as he shakes his dreadlocks
At a girl who fumbles (with her card)
Down it goes, she picks it up
Two older men amble past with hasty words
One alumni I know, from high school, doesn't remember me
Asks me if I live here
I say no.
She is the queen of the world, a fashion blogger
I watch her pass by three times.
Someone else: Sorry my card doesn't work.
I typed in the ID wrong.
Another boy comes, relief because he is normal
Chatting on the phone, so casual
I eavesdrop and hear, I have to go
Call me if you ever need prayer, or to talk.
I smile at him and he smiles at my cross.
Then no one comes for ten minutes
So I draw on my hand
A moon, quotes, the words,
Do you need prayer?
Do you mind?
Hi, hello, how are you? Good. Thank you.
These are the words they say
But which ones are real? Which ones are fake?
Some laugh confidently, some whisper their gratitude
At the girl who swipes their card
In a cap, zoning out, drawing on her hand
The two hours run past quickly
She sighs in relief as the next shift comes in
A new greeter.
A big deal.

shades of gold

It seems that even if I've "forgiven" people, God, and events, I still hold onto the memories for a long time afterwards not out of spite, but out of a reluctance to let go of a feeling I've held onto for so long.

My life group leader pointed this out to me, when she asked why the heck I was holding onto a job that proved useless, something I signed up for during the summer only out of bitterness towards God. I don't need it financially, and I don't need it to build character, because honestly, the only character-building I've gotten out of it was to how to serve food at a faster pace. I'm incredibly grateful to my co-workers, both the generous and irritable, but it's not a job worth anything more than a constant reminder of the frustrations of my past summer.

And I can't believe how good Bible study has been, the stories told so vivid that I am often reminded throughout my days of the lessons they teach. Am I going to let God touch this area of my life? Why must I have to be directly affected to be moved by Him? Am I only talking to this person out of obligation or out of a genuine desire to love? And furthermore, God recently pushed me out of all my comforts to apply for alternative spring break, and I went for it, solely for the motivation of pleasing Him. But then, when I started praying for revival yet at the same time worried that it might mean God would take that opportunity away, I got so confused about whether I was doing for Him anymore.. After all, I don't know about my chances of going on an ASB trip but it was the very opportunity I thought He had pushed me into going for in the first place. At what point in time did it too become tainted with selfish motives, like all the events of this past summer, another issue added to a long list of things I didn't want to let Him touch anymore?

In this way, either you keep holding onto these selfish treasures forever, or you surrender everything for His better plans, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). And it's so easy to believe, something you're so confident about, but why can't you go ahead and do it, taking that leap of faith?

1 thessalonians 2:4

We are not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts.

Either way is exhausting.

light

"Shoot all the bluejays you want, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird." That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it. "Your father's right," she said. "Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us."
-Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

"Did you know he wasn't like the others?"
I didn't.
"Did you know how much room he was taking up in your thoughts?"
Yes.
"So what are you going to do about it?"
Pray?
She frowned down at me with coldness, her pale, bony hands reaching for the thick folder that contained all my files, like hundreds of private journal entries organized into perfect charts and comment boxes. I was afraid they would all slide out in one, graceful mess, but her grip was firm, and the folder landed neatly on her lap. Slap.
"Next week," she told me, hastily jotting something down on a post-it and sticking it on the inside of the folder. She licked a finger and turned a page, licked her finger, turned another page. "We'll try light therapy, since your brain has seemed to adapt too quickly to the..."
"Uh, no," I said very quietly, shaking my head. "I think I'll be okay."
"Excuse me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "You haven't been reacting to the melatonin, and according to what you've recently reported back, your mind has not been in any condition to--"
"No," I said again, this time a little louder. As if she knew, so quickly and certainly, that I was unstable. As if she knew any of the things I never told her and exactly what I needed, like she was some kind of prophet or mind reader. "I'm okay. I'm fine."
"Your mother won't allow it," my therapist rolled her eyes and shuffled the rest of the files in a cabinet drawer beneath her desk, stuffing mine in. "We did everything to get that person out of your life, and now we need to remove him from your mind."
"That's not possible. I don't want that."
"You should want it," she walked around her desk and grabbed my wrist so hard, I prepared myself for a fracture. "It's the only way you'll be able to live a normal life."
I stared down at her hand and then into her stern face, the glassy eyes behind her old-fashioned wire rimmed glasses. A normal life, I repeated to myself as she dragged me out the door and smiled, distracted, at the receptionist who rushed to minimize several windows on her monitor.
"Set up an appointment for her in the next week, for light therapy. Goodbye now," was all my therapist said, noticing barely and releasing her grip on my arm to pat my head. The receptionist nodded and started click-clacking noisily on her computer.
"Is your wrist all right?" she whispered as my therapist retreated back to her office. "I don't believe Patricia was in one of her better moods today.. Would you like some ice for that?"
I turned to her slowly, raising my arm halfway and staring into her worried eyes. I was tired, hungry, and, most importantly, distracted by my thoughts of that person. A normal life. Like anyone wanted one of those. "Okay. Can I get it to go?"