though they are dainty, they are still yellow and a welcomed sight after such a long winter. summer school is essentially code for: let's play outside. blue skies are in abundance and make me feel anything but blue. naked gers are almost as much fun as clothed ones.
I've been thinking about blogging a lot lately. Well, writing, rather. I used to write a lot. It was therapeutic and life giving for me. It helped me to be in a constant state of process where I was not just taking in life but searching for and digging for meaning. It kept me grounded and real, for lack of better word.
I have been starting to write more lately and have several little bits I'm working on. In the process of digging out my blog from the depths of the internet, I found this jewel that I wrote years ago. Yes, that's right... years ago. I thought it was beautiful and worth sharing. So, in an attempt to revive this way of sharing my thoughts and processing...
Here is an ode to my younger (and probably wiser) self:
Welcome to The Chronicles of a Confused Citizen.
Here I am, residing in the country I was born in, living the life I knew from my birth to year 22.
It doesn't quite feel right, though.
Recently, as I found myself living in Mongolia, I started feelin…
Jesus, I come into the warmth of your presence
knowing that you are
the very emptiness of God.
I come before you
holding the water jar of my life.
Your eyes meet mine
and I know what I'd rather not know.
I came to be filled
but I am already full.
I am too full
This is my sickness
I am full of things
that crowd out
your healing presence.
A holy knowing steals inside my heart
and I see a painful truth.
I don't need more
I need less
I am too full.
I am full of things that block out
your golden grace.
I am smothered by gods of my own creation
I am lost in the forest of my false self
I am full of my own opinions and narrow attitudes
full of fear, resentments, control
full of self-pity, and arrogance.
Slowly this terrible truth
pierces my heart
I am so full there is no room for you.
Contemplatively, and with compassion
you ask me to reach into my water jar.
One by one, Jesus, you enable me
to lift out the things
that are a hindrance to my wholeness.