Tears fall beneath the midnight moon
No one to see her cry
She looks to heaven asking questions
She needs your peace tonight
Smiling eyes and laughing grace
She hides an empty heart
behind that beautiful face.
She needs your peace tonight.
Rain down love on her
Pursue her with your embrace
She needs to feel your presence
O Daughter of Thine
Speak peace to her tonight.
Restore this hurting soul
Speak peace to me tonight.
We are treated as impostors, yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, and yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything. 2 Corinthians 6:8-10
To realize how many prayers You've answered recently is to know that You've answered them all. Your mercies are truly new every morning, but the greatest mercy is that You always bring morning. Springtime always follows winter. And to think, the roots of Spring grow in the winter and the day changes even in its darkest moment. The changing seasons, fall and spring, stir up something deep in our bones. Like migratory birds we hear the seasons calling us home.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
In Christ Alone
In Christ alone, my hope is found.
He is my light, my strength, my song...
The past couple of weeks I have been inexplicably bummed about Brian being gone. I’m not sure why all of a sudden it bothers me so much—it’s not like I haven’t been through this before. Like, say, every week for the past year. I guess it has only been two and a half months that we’ve been doing the two-weeks-at-a-time thing, but it didn’t bother me much the first couple of times, which may have something to do with the fact that I got to go over to Europe two times in a month.
So, the point is, I’ve been mopey about Brian being gone. I try to fill my time hanging out with friends, doing things I like to do, creating new projects for myself, having my mom visit… but when the friends go home and the projects are done and the movies are over, it still just stinks. It’s like nothing I can do can really fill the hole of wanting to spend time with Brian. Sometimes, it just makes me even sadder that he’s not here.
I was sitting at church playing around on the piano before practice and my hands started playing one of my favorite songs on auto pilot. “In Christ alone, my hope is found…” There is no substitute for Brian, nor is there any substitute for God. The ache I feel for Brian highlights two things for me: One, it reminds me of how constantly I try to fill my soul with all these substitutes for God, but they all just pale in comparison. Two, one thing I consistently try to substitute for God is Brian. I depend on him to make me feel better, to bring me joy, to brighten my day, to bring some kind of completion to my life. I try to put Brian in the role that only God can fill, and I fail. In the end, it leaves me with the same empty feeling I have when I try to fill my time with friends when Brian is gone. The thing, though, is that I have to try to fill my time and pursue other good things when Brian is gone, so even though they leave me feeling lacking, they are still good things, and it is not wrong of me to try to fill my time with them. Substitutes for God, though, do more than just leave us feeling lacking—they kill our souls. In Christ alone my hope is found, even through the fiercest drought and storm.
In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.
He is my light, my strength, my song...
The past couple of weeks I have been inexplicably bummed about Brian being gone. I’m not sure why all of a sudden it bothers me so much—it’s not like I haven’t been through this before. Like, say, every week for the past year. I guess it has only been two and a half months that we’ve been doing the two-weeks-at-a-time thing, but it didn’t bother me much the first couple of times, which may have something to do with the fact that I got to go over to Europe two times in a month.
So, the point is, I’ve been mopey about Brian being gone. I try to fill my time hanging out with friends, doing things I like to do, creating new projects for myself, having my mom visit… but when the friends go home and the projects are done and the movies are over, it still just stinks. It’s like nothing I can do can really fill the hole of wanting to spend time with Brian. Sometimes, it just makes me even sadder that he’s not here.
I was sitting at church playing around on the piano before practice and my hands started playing one of my favorite songs on auto pilot. “In Christ alone, my hope is found…” There is no substitute for Brian, nor is there any substitute for God. The ache I feel for Brian highlights two things for me: One, it reminds me of how constantly I try to fill my soul with all these substitutes for God, but they all just pale in comparison. Two, one thing I consistently try to substitute for God is Brian. I depend on him to make me feel better, to bring me joy, to brighten my day, to bring some kind of completion to my life. I try to put Brian in the role that only God can fill, and I fail. In the end, it leaves me with the same empty feeling I have when I try to fill my time with friends when Brian is gone. The thing, though, is that I have to try to fill my time and pursue other good things when Brian is gone, so even though they leave me feeling lacking, they are still good things, and it is not wrong of me to try to fill my time with them. Substitutes for God, though, do more than just leave us feeling lacking—they kill our souls. In Christ alone my hope is found, even through the fiercest drought and storm.
In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Bandaids.
I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford
I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby
Temptations lose their power
When Thou art nigh
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford
I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby
Temptations lose their power
When Thou art nigh
I need Thee every hour in joy or pain
Come quickly and abide or life is in vain
Come quickly and abide or life is in vain
Ugh. Nights after dropping Brian off at the airport are the worst. I should probably make a chocolate sweep before dropping him off. Otherwise I end up making a different kind of chocolate sweep when I get home from the airport--the kind that leaves me with a bit of a stomachache in the morning. Not to mention a guilty conscience.
These nights are the nights when the bandaid gets ripped off. Everyone always asks if we had a good weekend together, and it's always so hard to answer that question. Was it a good weekend? Of course. Was it enough? No. Which makes it really hard to say that it was good or to get excited about it. If you were craving Bluebell ice cream and you got non-fat Safeway brand would you really be satisfied? Well I wouldn't. if you were craving Tex-Mex and you got Mi Pueblo in North Carolina, would you call it "good"? Maybe to be polite, but deep down you would know it didn't satiate your craving. It's just a bandaid until I can get back to Texas and have some Maudie's.
The weekends are often just bandaids. I feel like I'm living my life in a drug store. I'm not saying that, taken as a whole, there's not a real, solid relationship there. Sometimes I just feel like it's buried somewhere under a mountain of bandaids that really need to be sifted through. Just thrown in here and there, causing lots of confusion.
The plus side of having bandaids ripped off my heart every week (or for the weeks that Brian's gone for longer, it's like having a wound dressing clawed off) is that it forces me to recognize my need for Christ, both because it causes a lot of pain and because of the way the desire to be with Brian parallels my relationship with God.
I have good days and I have bad days. Actually, it's really down to the moments. For example, I was having a good moment when I was at Ozona's with my friends. Having a bad moment when I was back home watching gossip girl and ate two cake balls. I'm pretty sure that should be illegal. That amount of sugar should be considered a drug. Oh well. Had about five yesterday.
I don't really like having bad moments, but when they come and make me do stupid things like have two desserts or cook frozen pizza or watch multiple hours of tv (concurrently doing two of those. I'm sure the frozen pizza would have tempted me if I had any left), it makes me realize how much I wish I could be with Brian, which in turn makes me realize how we were designed to be in God's presence, and walking with God all the time. It reminds me of how much I need Christ, because let's be honest, as good as two cake balls are, they don't exactly heal the hole in my heart, and when we really get down to it, neither does Brian. Which is really unfortunate because I sure would like him to. But no, Christ alone. And, I need Him every hour.
Television numbs me, desserts appease me for a second before the guilt sets in, reading distracts me. Christ alone can give me peace. Perhaps if I focus on that before settling in to my guilty pleasures I would find those temptations losing their power as the song promises.
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