i like you

What is this welling up inside of my very heart

should I fear the touch of your eyelashes on my check bones

whispering gently the purpose of their being

enthralled by the life in your lips and the way that they curve and bend

I cannot seem to ever leave them

Your hands are so sweet when they meet my own

I want nothing more than to lose them in your embrace

I pine for one more kiss

one more promise that this is different

can it be?

I am so bewildered by the sincerity in your voice

the desire to instill in me the belief that

I am something worth holding to you

It penetrates and evaporates all other thoughts of doubt

Your heart seeks adventure and life

in simple goodness of the day's first promise

My mind is awake with the thoughts of

what God will graciously pour into my life

I wait in the storm of your eyes

reflecting clouds and complex mosaic structures

that keep me still and at peace

for He has made you to be a heart so loving

something I have never known or dared hope for

but I pray to know deeper still

even in the simple touch of your eyelashes

against my slender check..

time, words, and fears

Oh beauty, why are you not enough?

Why am I crying after love?

- Sara Teasdale

Translucent time is closing up its moments
and ripens inwards, throwing out its roots,
it grows within me, occupies me wholly,
its foliage flings me out deliriously...
- Octavio Paz

Words hang like wash on the line, blowing in the winds of the mind.
- Rameshwar Das

a cross-centered life

Rilke said "if you think you are capable of living without writing, do not write" and I've tried to live it but it gets too heavy.. you know? I've gathered up my thoughts from this summer, weaving them together like waves, like particles of light (deb talan's method) and I too have imposed it on myself like a vow made in war: I will write or die. But you'll have to bare with me, its all very hazy, its all very grey. It's all very obsolete as everything becomes without recollection. But all the more, I figure I can at least poke at my thoughts with words and see what comes of it. Maybe a few rambled on pages, or maybe something from the heart. Who really knows?

I've come to the horrible realization of my ugly failure. Now I've said it often in the pit of inadequacy which seems to always rise around the time I must write it or die. But this time it sort of blind side hit me, with more hopelessness I could ever dare imagine. He lived the life we were created to live, and then He died to pay the price for the life we now live instead. We've heard some form of this over and over in our lives, as if it were some sort of an equation and we're supposed to figure out where we equal out, where we fit into it all. But the truth is, I don't think I'll ever be able to figure it out. What could possibly be in exchange for that kind of beauty?? And yet I do it everyday, this great exchange. We hear about the "great fall of man" This great descent into darkness. How foolish are we?! It wasn't a descent at all, it wasn't a fall, a trip, a hiccup, it was an exchange rather, a great exchange of truth for a lie. And that's why we will always be victims in a battle that we never had to fight. Then why. Why do I feel like I'm fighting everyday? If everything is said and done and paid for in the full with more grace than I will ever be able to understand or be gracious enough to pay back, than why does my brand new heart desire this world's attention so easily? If I am made new, not just a cleaned up, better version of my old self, why does my heart still love what is only temporary?

John told believers "My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense - Jesus Christ, the Righteous One." - 1John 2:1
John tell us not to sin, but he knows that if anybody does sin (which we will, and he makes that quite clear) than we have an advocate in the Father. Jesus becomes the substitutionary atonement for the believer's sin. In this way the Father's wrath is propitiated, satisfied, turned away from my sin and directed towards Christ. So when I wake up everyday with this idea of who I am, what I think I have, what I think I can do, Jesus stands beside the Father and says No. You cannot punish her for that. You cannot punish her for her sin, her selfishness, her fear, her pride, her envy and jealousy, her lack of trust in everything You are, You cannot punish Mollie for the way she is grieving you, because I bore it all. I already paid for that, and Your grace is sufficient of all things.

This hurts. A little.

So by asking God for a redemptive heart, I've discovered a few things. It hurts. Redemption is a two way process. First its repentance, and then its like a downward slope into discovering the depth of how deeply sinful I am. I am more sinful than I've ever dared to imagine, but He is more loving than I've ever dared to dream. Until we see ourselves as "big" sinners, we cannot see Him as a "big" savior.

And this is where it hurts.

John also said, God is light. in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with Him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
- 1John 1:5-7

It hurts me because It's hard to walk in the light. I can walk in the light in a lot of aspects of my life, but a lot of areas remain cold and lifeless. I can have fellowship with God, and yet I deny the fellowship around me as a witness to my family.

This conviction has knocked the wind out of me:

being able to love on friends and the young life ministry, pursuing those relationships
and yet not being able to love my own family outwardly and deeply in the same amount.
It breaks my heart over and over again,
because I can preach the gospel in my foolish wisdom, something so dangerous and arrogant,
but the real tragedy, the real hurt, the real violence that is more alarming to me than seeing them stray from the path of Christ, is not what I say over and over to make them see the need for Jesus, or my ignorant attempt to persuade them the truth, it is the way that I throw away that need everyday, it is the way that I have not lived out the gospel to them in such a way that they can rightfully blame me for the way that I live and point out the gap between my words and my actions, the gap between Christ's salvation in me and my response to it, they can point at my faithlessness so raw and lifeless that I have nothing more to say about God's joy in my life.

And the truth is any potential I have for transformation in me is Christ himself, none of it is me. And yet I don't receive it. Day in and day out I leave it there because I say Yes Christ, I believe in you, Yes Jesus, I trust in you with my WHOLE life, but right now, in this moment, I need ___ (this) to make me happy.

It makes me sick. I guess this is where I am.. On the edge of diving into the depth of my sinful nature.. where I will then repel downward into this lonely, painful place, until I have been broken down to where I can only see Christ.

....................______......................................______
......................................................\................................/......................
........................................................\_____/.......................

He will be my trampoline back up and out of my despair, and even still, knowing all of this, it breaks my heart that I can take the beauty of His grace, and accept that salvation for myself, what He did for me on the cross, and then turn that beauty into filth as I try and earn the rest of that righteousness with the way I follow Him and my behavior to constantly be proving my faith to myself, Him, and other people. Jesus says that my best attempt is like a filthy rag. Ouch.


So I guess the purpose of my writing is to make it known so that loneliness, something that Satan uses in me often by isolating and suppressing my emotions so that I feel like literally the only one going through this, wont be able to enslave me any deeper. I need to see these shattered, frustrated, and confused pieces of my life that are still walking in darkness so that I can begin to respond not simply by a 'right behavior' but by being truly compelled and consumed by a love much bigger than I ever could dream, and letting that fall afresh on my life, breaking me free of my chains, and transforming me.
The deeper I dive into the pit of my sin and need, the deeper love and electrifying grace I will find. I just pray I can be brave enough to surrender to it all, that I can have Him search all of me..

Please, make this a dialogue.
I need to see more clearly.

doctor doctor my hearts made of glass

I heard a song today and it made me think about something.
There are a LOT of songs out there that include the whole doctor metaphor.
Although, it's interesting, because the lyrics seem to reach out for more than just a doctor to help with cures or phsyical needs, but they seem to reach more profound places, touching on a need for something more.. our world is crying out for a Healer, it's absolutely everywhere, just turn on your radio and do a little more than just hearing the music.. really listen to it.


How long must I wait held up in depression?
I tried to erase my past, to make a good impression
But my broken horn's lost the tune
And only shattered mirrors fill my room
Fell for you and only got me down
Well Doctor Doctor come give me the cure
Easily obsess on an open sore
Doctor Doctor can't get no relief
This losing sleep is misery
Won't you come and rescue me?
Doctor, Doctor
- matt costa


I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said "I am terribly sorry but there is nothing I can do for you that you can't do for yourself."
He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help."
So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, "I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure.
Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile."
So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
- bright eyes


And despite what all the studies had shown
In what was mistaken for closeness was just a case of mitosis
Why do some show no mercy
While others are painfully shy?
Tell me doctor can you quantify?
‘Cause he just wants to know the reason why
Why do they congregate in groups of four
Scatter like a billion spores
And let the wind just carry them away?
How can kids be so mean
Our famous doctor tried to glean
As he went home at the end of the day
In this Nature show that rages every day
Well does anybody's intuition say
That we are all basically alone.
- andrew bird


Since my people are crushed, I am crushed;
I mourn and horror grips me.
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?
Why then is there no healing
for the wound of my people?
Oh, that my head were a spring of water
and my eyes a fountain of tears!
Jeremiah 8:21-22...


Nevertheless, I will bring health and healing to it;
I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security.
I will bring Judah and Israel back from captivity
and will rebuild them as they were before.
I will cleanse them from all the sin they have committed agaisnt me
Jeremiah 33:6-8



Praise God! There is a Healer!

i feel it

"I was shocked not so much at the blow

but by the calmness of my own voice.

But tears had jumped into my eyes."

scared

I guess if there is a place to talk about your deepest fears, this would be it.
Even though words, like everything else, fail you.

I'm scared.
Let me start off by admitting what I try to cover up. Because its not worth it, and in order for anyone reading this to understand why certain things in life get under my skin, you should probably know that its really only because I'm scared. That way, we can both be enlightened on how pathetic that really is. Okay. Good? Good. Moving on.

I kind of always knew I would struggle being a young life leader. Well, a leader at all to be real with you. I'm the most disorganized, scatter-brained, unreliable, flaky person you'll ever meet probably (it's okay, I'm going to be extremely honest with you in this blog, so don't let anything shock you even though I'm sure it hasn't yet). I was blessed to be on a team with Jen Lewis. Meet my mom of the middle creek/holy springs team. She's fantastic! I can honestly say that when I got a phone call that they affirmed my calling of being a young life leader, I was still hesitant until I saw that she was on my team, and then I decided to breathe for the first time. She is organized. She calls me when anything is happening or when I need to be anywhere, and more than half of the time, my reaction is usually "oh! I had no idea.. okay, be right there." She is patient with me, understands me, is always pursuing me and loving me. I love her, really. Austin is the most enthusiastic, energetic, positive person there is. I've probably only had about a MILLION frustrated choked-up-snot-dripping-down-my-nose kind of cries with him firmly saying "Mollie. Trust. This is going to work out. This is the Big Man we're talking about." He is the constant reminder of the group that we can do anything He calls us to do, and that kind of encouragement is hard to find. Like I said, I've been pretty blessed on this team.

Needless to say, I've never really felt that heavy feeling of ... its all on you. I mean I guess I have in some situations, but never so .. real. (Not usually fond of the leader role, keep that in mind don't forget that one its kind of important in why I suck at this, oh and also I hope you haven't already forgotten the main reason things get under my skin -scared, remember that one.) So basically, I've come to find that my responsibilities are a little overbearing right now. I'm not going to lie, I've been really frustrated with the lack of help I've received with what needs to be done before camp happens. No ones fault really, I just like to be whiny about a lot of things. But like I said, I've been blessed to have Jen who has already stepped up to say that since I am helplessly in Richmond and cannot help any girls raise money for camp, she would be around to take them wherever they need to be and stay by their side. Did I mention I love her? I mean, that's amazing lets be serious.

I was just informed that the team I love is splitting into two teams. I guess people feel like I can tackle middle creek without Jen and Austin, which I would love to see how that thought process played out, really. But in all seriousness, they feel strongly that Jen and Austin need to be at Holy Springs, and I need to be at middle creek. Let me start off by saying, I am overjoyed with what has already happened at Holy Springs. Christ is all OVER that place! I mean, I'm not kidding, I'm faint with joy about how Jen and the others have really pursued administration, kids, parents, and how such ease has been the reaction to meeting kids and introducing young life to this new school. I really had shivers at hearing about how real Christ was on the move there. Reaping the Spirit there, and those benefits.. its something to be praised, its pure and beautiful and I want nothing more than to say GOD IS GOOD!
Christ is all over Middle Creek too. In a different way, I see so many opportunities to let Him in, I see him in the need and the brokenness, It's so crazy how I personally have seen Him in just the few times I've been there.. (we're not allowed on campus here, but the days that I have been able to be there, they have not been coincidental and Christ is totally there).
So initially Jen is focused on Holly Springs (and rocking it, because shes awesome and did I say I love her 10 times yet, because I should) and Austin is both holly springs and middle creek, and has met guys at both schools, also rocking it. I am focused on middle creek. I don't have a car. But no excuses, Morgan has graciously taken me out there, not even on her team, and each encounter has been so exciting that I probably talk her ear off about how much I love them already.

I just found out that Austin is now solely focused on holly springs. I want this. But lets go back to my first problem.. I'm scared. I know that holly spring needs attention. I am excited for everything going on there. But I've heard Austin talk about his excitement for middle creek and holly springs, but I do understand its hard to focus on two different schools. I just pray that Middle Creek would know my Jesus, and I am so scared to tackle that alone.

so that's one little perspective of my big problem of being scared, now lets look at it as a whole. I mean why not? If I'm going to put my fears and insecurities and ugliness under a microscope for everyone in the world and their moms to see, I might as well examine everything.

I'm scared. I am so deeply afraid of what I'm doing all the time and who I am all the time that I am enslaved to that fear of failure, even when I know that the God of the universe personally loves me and has provided for me abundant life at my fingertips, I still chose death everyday, I still run from that life through these things that enslave me such as fear, and THAT is why I am human and sinful to the core of who I am, to my painful, broken, and poisoned heart. I. Am. Hurt. I still need Jesus everyday, just as much as I did the moment He found me and I accepted Him.

They promise them freedom, but they themselves are slaves of corruption. For whatever overcomes a person, to that he is enslaved.
- 2 Peter 2:19

This is the very reason that I fall more in love with my Jesus everyday: He refines me. He is so patient in revealing Himself to me, He never gives up on me though I give up on myself and others give up on me, His love never runs dry to the point where the concept is so absurd and no longer familiar but outrageous and becoming harder and harder to grasp in such a beautiful way that it makes me laugh..

" I chortled and then prayed, wondering if prayer and laughter gurgled up, sometime, from the same spring" - Sena Naslund

He disciplines me because He loves me, He knows the longings of my heart, even deeper than my own understanding, and even I know that the ways of this world are constantly competing for His place as Lord of my life. I fail, everyday. He is sufficient and STILL I search after love, comfort, satisfaction, happiness, in all different places, illusions, and areas of my life. Sometimes I think about why I cannot forget myself fully to glorify Him and full fill His purpose for me. This fear that enslaves me just buries pain and bitterness, anger, indifference, feelings of intense separation and nothing feels right or whole when I let it seep into my life.. I admit it, right now, to God and everyone: I let jealousy reign in my life. I compare myself as a young life leader, as a sister, as a daughter, as a friend, as a christian. It is the THIEF of all joy. I let illusions and appearance overcome me and get in the way of loving Him, even when I KNOW that charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman that fears the Lord is to be praised. It controls me sometimes and I cannot filter out what the world may think about me. I let doubt consume me, I cannot trust with so many areas of my life. It swallows my heart. I fall into self pity, when it's utterly ridiculous that something so small should upset me considering the blessings I've received. The norms of society enslave me. Am I too afraid to live a radical life for you Lord? Am I too uncomfortable with being bold for You? Wanting whats comfortable! Wanting. Why do I settle for that? I am so selfish. I am SO. selfish.

I pray, Holy Fountain, consume me with You. Captivate me with You. I constantly let my self consciousness and doubt tell me what I fear: failure. I tell myself I cannot possibly be what You called me to be. God, Let every chain break around me. Forgive me for what I am, for what I do, for what I don't do, for horribly representing your Son, for all of this fear that blocks your Spirit like a spring of living water, I am deeply sorry for my sin grieving others, for the way that it grieves You. Take me away from this place. Teach me to die to myself so that I will not be a slave to these things that have mastered me any longer, God. You are much bigger. You're presence is thick, your presence is tangible. That strength.. you never leave me. I want to yearn for your word, Put your desires in my heart, make me so open to your will, take everything else out, every selfish ambition out of my heart and purify me. I don't want to be apart of the ways of this world any longer, renew my mind, it's because of your precious Son and that he's chosen me, It's because of what Your Son has done for me that I can pray to you. Thank You God, may it continue to grow into such an absurd, beautiful love.
Amen.

novels

Sena Naslund is unbelievable with her words.. her language is so lyrical, alluring, and wise... I thought I'd share some passages i've recently come across:

          O Sunny Day, O golden sand, O loving breeze -- I would lounge and loaf forever, my spirit basking in your clear goodness, if I could. From how far away does the sunlight come to fall upon this one glittering grain I hold between my forefinger and my thumb? This grain is square as a quilt block, its edges straight as any carpenter cuts wood or glazier scores glass. Perhaps it is glass, or salt-- a crystal left by the water. I put it on the tip of my tongue and taste nothing salty. I push it sideways with my tongue and it is grit between my molars. I take it out again, all wet from my mouth. My stubborn sand grain lies drowned on the whorls of my forefinger. It can tell its fellows that it has been in a strange place. A wet, pink cave.

          Perhaps the mind as well as the mouth is a glistening, pink cave. As a child that image was available to me, for my mother read aloud how Plato likened his mind to a cave. But his was dark instead of pink. With this writing I wish to enter that opalescence and inhabit the pearly chamber of memory. Hindsight, retrospective wisdom, I leave, to the extent I can, at the threshold. But as a child, I was given much of the language of adults, and I continue to use it, even to describe my youth. I court the freshness, the immediacy, and all the resources of language that make the past tense strangely shine as though it were the present. 

___________________________________

The home where I first found my body, my feet not so much being pulled into this sandy beach as seeking downward, toes better than roots; then my mind, built not to chart this blue swell of heaving ocean, but the night sky, where the stars themselves, I do believe, heave and float and spin in fiery passions of their own..

____________________________________

I ceased looking through the window in order to contemplate the wavy glass itself. What was a window but a machine for making the opaque transparent? Then I regarded the window framing, which divided the four small lights by a slender, equal-armed cross between the panes..

_____________________________________

I sat on my mother's knee and listened to a bird sing. Mine was a darting mind, and it darted after the bird and its world, while I partly talked with my mother. With its song of Pretty, Pretty, Pretty, I imagined its crested red among the high green leaves of the tulip poplar, and then again diverted, imagined the way light shone through leaf so that you can see compartments and veins within the thin flatness.

_____________________________________

With the closing of the door, her image was lost to me again, but I pictured her by sound. When she straightened her arms, the wood rolled down to the hearth, and the rumble of the pieces jouncing each other, bruising and kissing the bark of their fellows and tumbling onto the hearthstones, was as pleasant and promising as any sound I know.

Beautiful. 

ghost

comfort was hard to find when you're a child who can't sleep.

For some reason I always found myself tracing my little fingers

along the wood design of your door

wondering if it would be okay to let myself knock.
wondering if maybe I could walk into your life and it would be okay,

It would be better.

I could usually see the light on, when I was younger.

you always seemed so much older than I was.

but even still, I was infatuated by the way you distanced yourself

the farther away you became the more I wanted to know you

but I didn't know how.
I still don't know how.

I followed you everywhere. We joke about it you know,

but I really wanted to be near you all the time.

I saved everything you made me, and the nights we fought over

silly childish things, I would cry with such strong conviction,

even so young I could feel that separation, so unsettling.

you. were ALWAYS. right.

no matter what, you knew the secrets of the universe, and I believed it

for so long. I became bitter soon after I realized it was kind of impossible

to be indulged in your world. I don't think you meant it,

but I will never forget the times you wanted to be left alone

and all I wanted to do was be anything for you.

anything.

Soon I just detached myself. Growing up for me was realizing that

you aren't really a hero.

It pains me to say it because I don't want you to think you've disappointed me

I don't want you to think that I look down on you, because I could never feel that way.

I still want that love from you, so much sometimes that I can't get past it

I get so angry.

I just want to know why, why don't you call me?

Why didn't you ever tell me you loved me, why can't we hug and talk about our lives?

no, not talk about our fucking lives but talk about who you are

and who I am

and what we really think and feel and want from these layers of life

I'm so sick of it, i'm so mad, i'm so hurt seeing your brokenness and just watching you

growing up for me was when I figured out what you need and what I need and

they're the same, we're the same.
and you don't see it, knowledge isn't everything, this is something I learned on my own

a man who is hurt will make himself an expert, but if you can't recognize that

than I don't know how to reach you and i've been looking for ways

but I've come to find its not so easy.

So I guess its like this: I'm still waiting at the door wondering

in case you're waiting on the other side and wondering..

I love you.

You should know,

You taught me how to love people.

It's hard to believe really, the way you made Jesus so real to me. I hardly knew you when we first talked about the beauty of our minds.. but seeing you weep because of it told me everything
and I never really let you go. It was a gradual thing, the way you seeped into my heart. Right down to the core of who I was - you saw all of the ugliness inside of me, and you bore every pain with silent listening. I really believed the things we lived for then, in the most pure way that I think I could.. in the most selfless way that I think I ever could.

you showed me how to forget myself.

you challenged my spirit! My settled, sleeping bones weren't satisfied with the ways of the world, all because of the way you let Jesus live inside of you. The way that He touched people through you.. the sweet nostalgia and the painful attempt to get to know my heart,

you told me that everyone wants to be known.

and you knew me because I let you in.. I let you into the brokenness around me when it wasn't even fair. Maybe I let you too close.. but I saw Jesus so close to me in the most real way. I saw Him so early in the morning that the horizon was still pink, I saw Him in the dead of the afternoon in a familiar coffee shop, I saw Him in the middle of the night in a chocolate chip waffle.. You taught me what fellowship meant. It was the painful growing that got me there. You assured me that it was okay to let my mind wander and skitter away, and you never thought that my thoughts were too 'out there'... so for the first time in my life I didn't feel alone.

And then I let you go.

a little at a time, and I saw it draining by..at first the sting was too much to feel, so I just suppressed it all and became so recluse and eventually I choked it all down. I continued to live day by day, week by week, month by month...I see you sometimes and your eyes are like glass. No more late night words. It always hurt me to see you hurting, but I never felt like I deserved to give you anything.. because I always took more than I gave and some nights I couldn't sleep because of it -but other nights I couldn't sleep because of the joy in my heart. I never knew I could be so happy that I physically could not sleep. Someone once told me that you'll always know those people that make such a strong impact in your life that they aren't made to stay in your life..and I always knew you'd leave. Like that night in the car. Like smoke in the trees.
So I just want to say thank you,
you're heart is so big that it breaks for everyone,
your heart is so big that I couldn't help but be changed by you and what is inside of you
I couldn't help but be changed by the Holy Spirit, so please know that Your prayer that you always pray has been answered in more ways than one:
He uses you, He used you in my life and I will always be thankful.
<3

conversation

i'd rather stay quiet and not let it be said, i'd rather let it be floating around me where it's still beautiful and limitless than let it be stale and familiarized. I can't understand the way it feels sometimes, and I know they can't either. Its too painful and exhausting to try and make everyone understand, it just reinforces loneliness. We sit around in circles and begin to talk, we talk about things we want to talk about and things we don't, we talk about adventures of the heart, we talk about sadness and joy and enthusiastic moments, fears and laughter, and when the layers unravel we share memories that have faded and aren't so significant to the outside, but mean so much at the same time. We remember things that no one else can relate to even if they wanted to, but there is comfort in their willingness to listen anyway, to see our painted images the best that they can and to smile at our stories that are absurd but sometimes beautifully simple.

It's a peaceful energy, its selflessness, its love. It connects us to intricate thoughts that we may never remember again, and how funny it is that something in our lives once meant so much and now struggles to be forgotten. There is something mesmerizing about the state of childhood, and everyone loses themselves in trying to get back to that place. The place when you were a child where you first connected the feeling of sadness with something sad, and your emotional maturity was so outside of yourself that it shocked you, because you were able to put something solid with a feeling. What was it that made your eyes stream with innocence and sadness? Its something beautiful and selfless, what was it that made you cry that wasn't about yourself at all but purely out of love for someone else? It is the fall of man that brings loneliness and confusion, an inability to be fully in fellowship with another, an isolation due to the illusions we create, materialistic walls and masks, taught to be composed and rhythmically in tune with the world, and enslavement to our own fears and society boundaries.

But in the brokenness of those moments isn't it so beautiful that we see God is so good, isn't it God that shows me, the desire of man is to be pure in Love, one in Spirit and community, because we weep for others, because we feel that tug on our hearts in the darkness even as children that are alien to such real concepts?! So we spend the rest of our lives in circles with each other, sometimes at functions or events, around bonfires, at park benches or looking up at the stars, we spend our lives searching the depths of each other with an aching to know one another the way that the God of the Universe knows us, and to see into the windows of our souls what little moments broke us and then made us whole again, how significant they really are...

theres something so real about it all that i almost don't want to make it known, just let it float above our heads like the memories we will soon forget, the emotions we are soon to feel, and the interwoven love that we are soon to pass on..

Astaire the Tree

The flowers on Astaire are not really pink at all, they just appear to be pink as the buds are, but the petals are white as milk, only tinted by their tiny centers. Climbing a tree was the best advice I have ever gotten, it was one of those moments that kind of resonate in your mind and seem to make everything flow together. I was told life looks different from up there, and those little pink buds reminded me of that so clearly. Her trunk is twisted and old, the little flowers seemed to snow on the ground as the branches draped over like a mother holding her baby. She cradled me in the crevice of her heart, tangled limbs above me, the dirt below. The saddest admiration I may ever know was the way she still carried empty homes in her hands and her hair, three or more little nests. They were hollow shells of once nestled sticks and feathers, and she held the nests like crusts of the earth, beautiful and forgotten. Astaire, with her milky eyes and steady heart sings a song so pure and lonely that no one can hear but the pink and the wind. But as I sat and remembered, I drank in the pink air and instantly loved her like an old friend. She is the center that I long to come back to, my sweet and divine origin

bird by bird

I am water. Am I anything I was before?
the moon was so sweet when we saw our little hands
for what they really were
God made them fly, such little hands, like paper planes that soar
quiet ripples of clouds resound in my mind
I am water, nothing more.
Your petals have crinkled beautifully, delicate and dry
they've withered so flat in the summer grass that
my hands won't hold the sky
i've been mistaken for someone else, someone never found
I sit in a bucket seat, been called your type
I laugh a hollow sound
Well here it is, is it ever endless when the water cuts so deep?
we sit in our planets and count our good roses and
such tiny hands we'll keep
bird by bird i'll make it through
at least thats what he told me

home

I literally stared at the wall for 10 minutes, it was just this naked white. just completely bare. I felt so embarrassed for it, like all of its secrets were stripped and revealed. Not just white walls but all of the furniture is gone but a few tables and beds. Its gone, its like a hollow shell of some part of me that I can never come back to. I sat there and felt the sting, it was like a heartache that shocks you every time it comes, I was myself years ago with a crush on a boy. I was myself years ago when a loved one died. I was myself staring at the wooden door frame that has been slammed shut numerous times because of family fights. I couldn't possibly dive into the pool of memories that were swimming around me, there were so many brilliant moments, so many painful ones. There were so many images coming to my mind that I haven't remembered in years, and how sorry I was for it. How sorry I am for these white walls that were washed clean of their life. I felt so old. I looked down at my hands and saw myself as nineteen. Where did it go? My childhood? Its in a box in the garage. That is the thing about time, it gradually moves who you are with who you will be, and soon you forget it all behind you. I am a ghost in this empty house, I am an outsider in this little town. If those walls could talk of the conversations they held, of the laughter they witnessed, the tears... I will never know. And soon my quiet window will be nailed shut and the roof will be just like an unfamiliar face. 

You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone. 
You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place. 

- garden state

"Hey. Could we do that again? I know we haven't met, but I don't want to be an ant. You know? I mean, it's like we go through life with our antennas bouncing off one another, continously on ant autopilot, with nothing really human required of us. Stop. Go. Walk here. Drive there. All action basically for survival. All communication simply to keep this ant colony buzzing along in an efficient, polite manner. "Here's your change." "Paper or plastic?' "Credit or debit?" "You want ketchup with that?" I don't want a straw. I want real human moments. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I don't want to give that up. I don't want to be ant, you know?"
- woman at the stairs


So like, um, for Bazin, what the ontology of film has to do is it has to deal with, you know, with what photography also has an ontology of, except that it adds this dimension of time to it, and this greater realism. And so, like, it's about that guy, at that moment, in that space. And, you know, Bazin is like a Christian, so he, like, believes that, you know, God obviously ended up like, everything ... he believes, for him reality and God are the same. You know, like ... and so what film is actually capturing is like God incarnate, creating. And this very moment, God is manifesting as this. And what the film would capture if it was filming us right now would be like God as this table, and God as you, and God as me, and God looking the way we look right now, and saying and thinking what we're thinking right now, because we are all God manifest in that sense. So film is actually like a record of God, or of the face of God, or of the ever-changing face of God.

But, you know, you don't first think of the story of the song, and then make the song. It has to come out of that moment. And that's what film has. It's just that moment, which is holy. You know, like this moment, it's holy. But we walk around like it's not holy. We walk around like there's some holy moments and there are all the other moments that are not holy, right, but this moment is holy, right? And if film can let us see that, like frame it so that we see, like, "Ah, this moment. Holy." And it's like "Holy, holy, holy" moment by moment. But, like, who can live that way? Who can go, like, "Wow, holy"? Because if I were to look at you and just really let you be holy, I don't know, I would, like, stop talking.
Well, you'd be in the moment, I mean ....
Yeah
The moment is holy.
Yeah, but I'd be open. And then I'd look in your eyes, and I'd cry, and I'd like feel all this stuff and that's like not polite. I mean it would make you feel uncomfortable.
Well you could laugh too. I mean, why would you cry?
Well, 'cause ... I don't know. For me, I tend to cry.
Uh-huh. Well ... Is, is full ...
Well, let's do it right now. Let's have a holy moment.
Okay.
(Long moments pass with them staring at each other)
Everything is layers, isn't it?

- waking life

avoidance

Pass by the morning
Though we both see it coming
We don't run.
Let the silence settle in our bones.

doubting thomas

It is a sense of space, a fear of failure.
Its a fear that we will spend our entire lives merely traveling to the place where we will leave it.
Can I be made into a leader?
The comparisons and standards and worldly ideals and definitions of success - they surround me, they take me away from the Cross, they put doubt in my mind.
Oh the Lord has blessed me and opened doors and I can see just a faint line of His picture, His perfect plan. So much bigger than I am, it was never a story about me, and how thankful I am - for I am nothing apart from Christ.
And in the midst of the joy I am overwhelmed, I am troubled by my sin. All my longings lie open before you, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you (psalm 38:9).
But I will follow the Lord, who said Lo, I am with you always (matthew 28:20).
Forgive me for my doubt, and be patient with me...
I pray that my life would be a hymn of praise to You God, and that You would guide me throughout this ministry that I get to be apart of, because You have found me, chosen me, transformed me. Use me, I pray. Amen..
In Love,
Mollie

What will be left when I've drawn my last breath,
Besides the folks I've met and the folks who know me,
Will I discover a soul saving love,
Or just the dirt above and below me,
I'm a doubting thomas,
I took a promise,
But I do not feel safe,
Oh me of little faith..
Sometimes I pray for a slap in the face,
Then I beg to be spared 'cause I'm a coward,
If there's a master of death I'll bet he's holding his breath,
As I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power,
I'm a doubting thomas,I can't keep my promises,
'Cause i don't know what's safe,
oh me of little faith
Can I be used to help others find truth,
When I'm scared I'll find proof that its a lie,
Can I be lead down a trail dropping bread crumbs,
That prove I'm not ready to die,
Please give me time to decipher the signs,
Please forgive me for time that I've wasted,
I'm a doubting thomas,
I'll take your promise,
Though I know nothin's safe,
Oh me of little faith
- nickel creek

the journey is too great

I came to understand it as I watched the laundry turn in quiet desperation.



3And when he saw that, he arose, and ran for his life, and came to Beersheba, which belongeth to Judah, and left his servant there.
4But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree: and he requested for himself that he might die; and said, I've had enough; now, O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.
5And as he lay and slept under a juniper tree, behold, then an angel touched him, and said unto him, Arise and eat.
6And he looked, and, behold, there was a cake baken on the coals, and a cruse of water at his head. And he did eat and drink, and laid him down again.
7And the angel of the LORD came again the second time, and touched him, and said, Arise and eat; because the journey is too great for you.
8And he arose, and did eat and drink, and went in the strength of that meat forty days and forty nights unto Horeb the mountain of God.

1 KINGS 19: 3-8

two ideals

Coffee is pouring out my ears
It's the only thing they have in here
And my heart stops beating
Number tree still on my plate
I heard the trains are running late
And I laugh out loud
My life is a mess
I have gone too far
In my lifelessness
-Emiliana Torrini

I was talking with a good friend - you know, the three in the morning kind of talks when the lights are out and you can hear so sharply through the night that it is almost piercing and you can't see their faces but it makes you feel so close to them at the same time...
She told me it dawned on her that most christians are after these two ideals:
One is to live a life after God's own heart. Completely surrendered not worrying about this world's desires. The other is a life defined by worldy success, or rather a "picture perfect" life in whatever way that may be, not necessarily rich but comfortable, desiring to be pretty, have a pretty husband, have a pretty family and a pretty job and a pretty life style. She said that its these two ideals that for some reason, we think we can have both of them. By packing on my make up and buying the most expensive clothes there is and saying that I follow Jesus is letting seekers know that it's okay to hold onto that other life, its letting them know that you can have both. And you can have both, but its not a full surrender, there will always be something holding you back. She said she was at a conference FULL of Godly women, and looking at them she realized. They were plastic, completely colored by the tanning bed and bleached teeth and curled eyelashes, talking about how we must truly believe that God can satisfy all of our needs. When will the world not consume me? what will it take? Then later the same night my other friend showed me a song that was so beautiful and so convicting for some reason.

used to be one of
the rotten ones
and I liked you for that
now you're all gone
got your makeup on
and you aint coming back
bleeching your teeth
smile like a flash
talking trash under your breath
or under my window
park that car
drop that phone
sleep on the floor
dream about me
- Broken Social Scene

are we all made to be radical with the way we are living? For some reason there is something in the way right now, and it's a little unsettling. I can't keep still about it.

i'm really only sure of this..

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights,
get out and look up at the sky
And I do this to remind me that I'm really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me
But it's only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I'd be because I've never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything
- Kimya Dawson

conviction

I was talking to a girl across my hall once that was agnostic and I asked her why she believed what she did, or rather why she didn't believe what she didn't and she said
Everyone wants to be loved
but no one wants to love
and as I agreed and sat in silence, I wanted so badly to tell her I was sorry. Sometimes you don't have to be painfully aware to hear the painful truth, it just kind of knocks on your door and you hear it loud.

it's the painful growing that gets you there.

I know someone that wants to love
I hope they find each other.


[ I believe in windy days when everything
gets blown away 'cause when our eyes close we're the same... - Page France ] <3::.

new year

What’s happening here?
I was once so alive and now I’m so full of dread and almost dead
Show me your wounded head that is lead to communion with the father
But where did he go? His presence seems farther and farther away each day but I’m trying so hard to steer his way
Yet still lonely and confused on this cold hard ground I lay
Speak to me wise mouth and say “it’s all good kid, it’s nothing that you did, and though it feels like I’m not here with you right now just be still and silent and listen for that sound..Shhh..Did you hear it?
Listen again.Did you hear it?
That silent voice that just spoke nothing, that is me, I’m listening to your plea with open ears Counting all your tears flowing from your irritated eyes
Searching the skies looking for that hope that beyond there lies.Oh you young worrisome sparrow, find rest
Lay your battered head upon my omnipresent breast and make it your nest
No strong cold wind could ever blow and carry you from this your home
Look around, see the life shooting up from the ground
Spring colors springing fourth and celebration of your trusting
It’s a constant process this is
Growing you into the man you are to become
But when you sense the setting of the sun know it is only rising and has just begun
Now go fourth, sing songs of faith, and lift up others in the midst of this race
And if you can’t keep the pace or lose sight of my face
Know that I’m always near so you need not fear
But don’t worry about all that right now
Just sit here and enjoy the peace I offer in my silence
When I am silent I am listening, and not abandoning.
-- Bradley Hathaway

"The world has changed a lot. We are dinosaurs walking around in a sea of digital realities;
things do not weigh as much as they used to. "
- Sean Hayes

Be present.
Be present.
Be present.

I don't think I believe in New Years resolutions. Don't ask why, it just feels too forced. But I guess if I really reflect on the upcoming year, I'd like to look back and feel that I had learned to love people more outwardly and pursue people more deeply. I want to be present. I want to abide. I want to listen and be outside of myself. But mostly I want the desire to have Him radically transform my heart.