Thursday, October 10, 2013

For the win.


I just want to write.  Im reading this memoir that is written beautifully, but I cant seem to really read it right now. I also tried to throw some pots on the wheel earlier, but I couldn’t get them centered. If you know anything about pottery it is impossible to throw anything worth keeping if you cant center the clay first. I went on a run at 1045 am. That also didn’t seem to work for me. I tried to run on the track but I kept counting the circles as I ran. It made me dizzier than I had anticipated. My alarm went off at 450 am. I didn’t wake up til 545. The day began without me.

I just found out that tomorrow is the deadline for something important. Its 1146 pm. I haven’t started that something.

Needless to say, today wasn’t exactly a win. If you know what I mean. But I think there were some great things that happened.

I yelled at God this morning. I don’t mean that figuratively, I Literally yelled at him. When I had to pull off on the side of the road in the pouring rain at 6 am to fix my truck bed, I literally was yelling at him. Screaming actually. It was semi funny though. But ya know what? I enjoyed yelling at my father. Because I knew he was actually listening to me. As cars are whizzing past me and my hazard lights, he could only hear me. He tunes out everything else. Just me.

I wish I could do the same in return for him.

Anyways. I laughed a lot at myself after that. Cracked up in my truck. Because even though I was pissed, I felt joyful. I love rain. And I love the sound of whizzing cars. And I love the bitter cold when it hits my face. And I love that I can yell at God and know that he genuinely wants to hear me. And I love that he was probably laughing at me. Doesn’t it make you joyful thinking about God laughing? I am laughing now at the thought of it. Well silently laughing because im in the library. I know. Weird that im here.

I also prayed a lot today. Which is hard for me to do sometimes. But as I ran around the track I just prayed the whole time. I dedicated each lap to something different. Maybe that’s weird. But it was cool for me. It was like my run really had a purpose. I got discouraged because I got tired. But then I thought about Jesus running next to me. Which also made me laugh again. I mean I know he is probably a fit guy. But come on. Imagine Jesus running laps around the track. Would that not be the best?

This blog post is probably boring for you to read.

How is it that I can sit here and write this in a matter of minutes, yet I fail to write anything for school? Its silly. I love writing.

Another great thing. Watching Dave throw on the wheel. Pure joy. He made something really ugly. I think I can say that. Mostly because its true, but maybe because were friends. Anyways. I appreciated it. because i was frustrated. And its nice to be reminded of how fun things are supposed to be. 

But here is the heart of my post tonight. It happened about 45 minutes ago as I stepped outside the ceramics studio. I had just destroyed a pot on the wheel and so I stepped outside to take a break. To breathe in the rainy air. And it was perfect. I just stood there. In awe of the mist that lightly coated my clay covered hands. Leaving only the trace of a mark. And it was perfect. The entire day I think lead up to that point. Where I could just breathe in the goodness of creation. The newness of life. The beauty being made out of the dust on my hands.

All the losses are worth it. For that one win. 

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Bright Street & Fireflies



Last night was one of the coolest nights that I have experienced in a long time. Part of it had to do with being adventurous. But I think the real reason I loved it so much was because I felt Jesus at a very close distance. Closer than He has been to me in a long time.  And I know he is always right there, but last night He was literally, RIGHT THERE. Reaching my hand out the window was like running my hands through his presence. Maybe im crazy.

My friend Jacob and I went on a search for this pyramid in Fredericksburg but by the time we began to look for it, it was dusk and the sky was running out of light for us. But driving through winding roads with the silhouettes of trees on either side of the car, only giving way for passing fields in the distance, made me think a lot about Jesus. How much he loves me. And how much he exists here in Fredericksburg with me. I didn’t want to come back here this summer. In fact, I was ready to run completely away from this place and the things I have felt here, the hurt I have experienced here, the loneliness I have found in my heart here. But then there are days like yesterday, and nights like last night where I realize that God wants me here. To be with Him.

We gave up on the pyramid and starting driving.  I had no idea where we were. Jacob, I think, knew where we were. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know. All I knew was that I belonged in the seat of that car, with my hand out the window, singing sweet songs about Jesus. And that was more than enough for me. The moon was a fingernail and the fields that we passed were covered with the flickering lights from fireflies. All I could think about was how Jesus has promised to make me new. Not just sometimes, but all the time. And I have been praying for new things. Better things. Do you ever just feel the weight of a tired year?

I don’t want to be tired anymore.

I needed last night to feel new again. To rejoice in the presence of my king and sit on train tracks and stare at the sky. To know that this year will be good. And that Jesus has promised that my soul will feel well.

That He will make beautiful things out of me.

As the night ended, I came home to an empty house. Filled with things, but empty.  I was scared to be alone. To feel the weight of loneliness just like every other time before. To be reminded of this past year.  And at first, I was. But I think it was a different kind of lonely than I had ever felt before. Instead of being lonely for the presence of another soul, I was lonely for the presence of God. Because I came home and realized that I wasted an entire year searching for comfort and belonging in faces that could stare at me but never see me. arms that could wrap around me but never hold me. Words that could speak to me but never tell me truth.  Empty things. But this house, being empty now, will soon be filled. With new, beautiful things.

Bright things.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Chapter Two: A Temporary Box.


I have always felt like the world has held me in its view, like I have been kept by it. Confined. Lately I have witnessed my soul wandering from the confines though; searching for things that I can’t see, hoping for things that I know are there, fighting for the presence of truth within the world. In the article, Naming the Elephant, Sire states that, “A worldview is the fundamental perspective from which one addresses every issue of life.” I have a hard time with this vague definition because my view of the world is so much more than just pondering the issues of it; I want to find hope within it. I devote the entirety of my days to that hope. When I look at the world, I see so much more than the present-ness of things.  My “Weltanschauung” has become heaven. Eternity.
The art that I create reflects that sense of wander.  I am constantly searching for the ability to explain things with paint rather than words, to ponder life by means of a paintbrush, to find meaning within a blank canvas. It is all right in front of our faces. The world is right there. But beauty is found within the fear of something more than just the world, more than just what is in front of our faces.  The world can only give us so much. It can only show me so many things. Because even if I were to see the entire world and all that it contains, I am almost certain that I wouldn’t be content. Ever since finding God within the depths of my heart, my view of the world has become so much bigger than just, the world. Yet, even with the certainty of heaven, I still find myself wondering how it is I can feel so contained by the world in which we live.
If I am free, then why don’t I live that way? If I am promised eternity, then why do I live with so much weight pressed on the present circumstances of life? If I am given truth, then why do I dwell on worldly lies? Searching for answers from the world has left me alone so many times. But God never intended for things to be the way they are, so I will hold on to the promise of eternity, and all that lies within that one word. I will view the world as a temporary box. I will create art that is temporary. At times, I will believe that temporary things will give me life, but I hope that by experiencing the temporary, I will only long so much more for that which is lasting.  For eternity.   

Monday, March 4, 2013

Chapter one: Collision

There is nothing better than finally smelling that old familiar air. Or hearing the monotonous drone of the pilings hitting the wheels of my car, trying to keep beat with my own heart, but failing to match the excitement within my chest. The rise and fall of two worlds suddenly meeting up again. As if this time they will actually get along. The ocean air finding its way into my car without an invitation. But once its there I remember the love that it brings, so I roll down the window. Theres nothing better.

Sometimes I wonder why it is so hard to come home. Why I fight the familiar. Because ultimately I think home always wins. No matter how much I fall in love with Fredericksburg, no matter how many friends I find at Mary Washington, no matter how content I become with the life I have created for myself, home will always win. I am contained here. Not confined, but contained. Kept. Even when I finally graduate and start yet another chapter in my life, Virginia Beach will always keep me. At least, I hope she does.

Growing up next to the Atlantic is something I never thought I was taking for granted. After moving to Fredericksburg for college, I realized just how much the ocean has grown me. From the time I was only a child I can remember the wonder that stole my eyes as I looked toward the horizon. She is the reason for so many questions, but also the reason for answers. I still look to that horizon with the same eyes as before. With a lot of the same questions too. Most of them dealing with the expanse of my life, who I'm going to be, what I'm going to amount to, things about myself. But my world really isnt that big in comparison to the ocean. Humbling. I still walk to where the sea meets the sand, in hopes of finding more answers. I know one day God will answer me through the waves. So Ill keep waiting.

I try to bring Fredericksburg home with me sometimes. But my two door 98 Acura only allows for the essentials. Ya know, my dirty laundry and a backpack full of books that probably wont be read. Those types of things. Occasionally a blank canvas or two and some left over paints that need to be used up. Other than that, nothing really fits in my car. The stories from my semester, the Rappahanack river, my favorite running trail, the futon, my best friends. They just can't come with me. And bringing them with me just wouldn't do them justice, because they belong there. And really to experience Fredericksburg, you must go to to Fredericksburg. Its as easy as that.

I went running yesterday and tried to make sense of my two worlds. I tried to think about them together. What it would be like if I could bring them to live together. It just doesn't seem possible though. Ive found myself in both places. Ive found God in both places. Ive found love in both places. Heartbreak in both places. Tears. Laughter. Roads to nowhere. Places that remind me of the other. Places that remind me that there is more than just places. and things. and people. More than just Fredericksburg and Virginia Beach. And the collision of the two worlds.

I was reminded of the horizon. And what lies beyond the opaque line that divides the sea and the sky. The beyond, that my 98 acura will never travel to. And for a moment, a tiny moment, I felt peace between the two worlds. I felt peace at the dividing line.