I keep having these dreams

in which I talk to you

interact with you

touch you

and they feel real: not real enough to make me believe anything, but real enough to make me miss you more

But He is Good

But He won't say the words you wish that he would
Oh, he don't do the deeds you know that He could
He won't think the thoughts you think He should
But He is good, He is good

I know you're thirsty, the water is free
But I should warn you, it costs everything
Well, He's not fair, no He's not fair
When He fixes what's beyond repair
And graces everyone that don't deserve

But He won't say the words you wish that he would
Oh, he don't do the deeds you know that He could 
He won't think the thoughts you think He should
But He is good, He is good

No one knows Him whom eyes never seen
No, I don't know Him but He knows me
He knows me, He knows me

Lay down your layers, shed off your skin
But without His incision, you can't enter in
He cuts deep, yeah He cuts deep
When the risk is great and the talk is cheap
But never leaves a wounded one behind

(Kendall Payne)

I Never Said I was Brave

You might sleep, but you'll never dream
Onward, Progress or so it seems
You might laugh, but you'll never smile
Come on in and waste away a while
My stomach swears there's comfort there
In the warmth, in the blankets, on your bed
My stomach's always been a liar
I believe it lies again(again)
No use in saying how im sorry 
So I'm trying not to speak
I'll sing in silence, as I lay beside you
My face against, against your cheek

When dreams of rings of flowers fade and blur
Giving way to that familiar ill
Come over, come over, where I'm waiting
No use in saying how I'm sorry
So I'm trying not to speak
Sing in silence, as I lay beside you
My face against, against your cheek

You're used to saying
(If you'd unlatch the window)
How I'm sorry
(If you'd let me)
So I am trying not to speak
(If you'd give me another chance)
I'll sing in silence
(If you'd forget that pain)
As I lay beside you
(If you'd unlatch the window)
My face against, against your cheek
(If you'd let me lay there on your floor) 

(mewithoutYou)

Feel

I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.

I love this quote from Chariots of Fire.

Really makes me think what is it that I do that when I do it, I feel God's pleasure?

Off the top of my head, I can't really think of anything. I can feel my own pleasure, but is that the same difference? I believe God takes joy in our joy.

The only thing that I feel I can say I feel an intense otherworldly joy is by encouraging people. I love the SOS Encouragement Box. I believe one should exist for every class period at school. I love sending people encouragement through emails or even facebook messages. I feel a very frightening joy from that because while I do it, I know I do it because I feel a very profound sadness that I am trying to counter. The strong and confident don't need encouragement. THe weak, broken and struggling definitely do. It is necessary and I'm glad to do it. Eager. 

On my Bones

What these years have brought me 
What these years have taught me 
Heartache and fame, a chance to change 
A hope to be stronger 
That beauty can smolder 
A stage and a curtain, that nothing's for certain 
Oh these years have been hard on my bones

What this world has brought me 
What this world has taught me 
Senseless spinning, never tie instead of winning 
Ice cream for licking, the clock's always ticking 
No one is free, someone must have a key 
Oh this world has been hard on my bones 
All this time I'd been seeking my own 
Oh this road has been hard on my bones

What this love has brought me 
What this love has taught me 
Patience in battle, who's in the saddle 
Joy and despair, that I really do care 
Uncertain desire the risk in going higher 
Oh this love has been hard on my bones

What this God has brought me 
What this God has taught me 
Passion and grace, how to stand in one's space 
Laughing at lilies, what truly fulfills me 
Death on a cross, it was I that was lost 
Oh this God has been life to these bones 
Oh this God has been life to my bones

(Kendall Payne)

No but really

I ache to the bone and not just from standing on my feet for the past two weeks.

God, could I ever focus?

Patience in battle. That is what I need dear Lord, more than anything

Listen

I've realized in the past two days that what I have missed most this summer is the sound of children singing to their God. It is probably my most favorite sound in the world. I didn't realize this simply doing worship with SOS. It wasn't until all the students were here and we sang that I was reminded that unified voices, loud and unashamed, fills my head with beautiful feelings. It's not happiness per-say, and it doesn't give me holy goosebumps or make my heart swell, but there is a rightness to it that I feel was missing all summer long.

I have missed the sound of worship. I have heard it in church the few times I've gone but the quiet voices of self-conscious thirty/forty-somethings singing at a stage cannot compare to the beauty of overgrown children raising their voices.

I've missed the loud Spanish songs sung by the groundskeepers at school.

I've missed the mashed potatoes and cookies in the Caf.

I've missed the smell of the waffle cone batter.

As I make this list, I realize I haven't missed much else

Sure, I love the community and the late nights sewing in the 99s and sitting on the caf porch for hours with coffee after coffee and Gnome Night at Nine on Nemsdays

But at the same time

I have known all of this was temporary

so I've been prepared to let it go without much anxiety, if any

For now

I look forward to my new world

with the sounds of trains at night 

[to remind me that there are places that aren't {here} ]

the company and Dunkin Donuts coffee on the back porch

the cat and the rat

the kitsch upon kitsch upon kitsch

the anticipation of nurturing love

perhaps temporary, albeit necessary

Joined

Tonight

I came home after the last SOS skit practice to the arms of Sarah, the final roommate, her clock, her credenza, her art magazine, her clothing mixing with mine and Lexi's on the floor, her dinnerware, her leather purses.

Then joined by Tay Rae

Then joined by Beau and Caleb

Then many others until I was a little overwhelmed. The house is quiet now but I feel noisy inside. Too much to think about.

Not just SOS!:

but the anxiety of this year (I think talking with Jake so much today made this worse just because he is part of that stressful world though I love his fire and his spirit--it's still guilty association, sorry Jake.)

and not just the anxiety of this next year, but Lord in heaven, Kyle's script and the Biola film buzz in my head. The characters visit me at odd times like ghosts that come in through the walls and sit in stillness on the furniture. I can't make them leave except when SOS demands much more attention. I told Tay. I told Jake. It looks like I am pitching this thing. I can't back out now. I hope to hopes I get this job. I hope Kyle reads the Bell Jar like I asked him to. I kinda miss that kid. I don't miss summer. I definitely miss Jenny and Liz.