awake, o sleeper

i've been on many adventures lately. i think it's good for me.
a few nights ago, 3 friends and i went to a park after hours to rappel from a bridge. when we were walking, a cop car drove by, and we all had to hide in the brush to avoid getting caught. my legs got cut up real bad. last night, i was with the same people and tried longboarding. i was really afraid of going fast and losing control etc etc, but once i got the hang of it i started getting a little bolder. we went from 15th street to campus, and on the way back, i totally biffed it and tore up my knee. i haven't skinned my knee since i fell off a bike in like second grade. the boys were really helpful. i didn't want to longboard back and was being a big baby but did it anyway. because once you fall off the horse you get back on.

however, i accidentally pushed the longboard into the sewer. fail. then i got a slurpee at the discounted rate of 75 cents in an xmen limited edition collectors' cup to compensate.

[addendum-i feel like i have a habit of twisting stories to make them more exciting. we got the longboard out of the sewer. and by we i mean they.]

needless to say, there are several battle wounds on my legs.

i started my weekend job taking care of old people yesterday. it was so different but so good. i've visited nursing homes for several years, but i've never actually had to do anything but talk to people. now i get to help them eat, get around, go to the bathroom, etc. more of the dirty work. i had to ask Jesus several times to show me how to love like He does. yesterday i was with a 92-year-old woman. i was told she had dementia, which she probably does, but i really think people underestimate the elderly. i saw how active Jesus was in this woman's life. i got to read scripture to her and pray for her and she just closed her eyes and clung to Christ. i saw her feet move to the rhythm of the revival songs she was listening to on the television. i saw her restful heart when she had me sing her ten hymns from a songbook and i saw the joy in her eyes when we talked about Heaven and how excited she was to see Jesus and her husband and have no more pain. she wanted to be free and to have the veil removed from her eyes. she told me she had dreams about Jesus and wasn't afraid to die. i witnessed the grace God was giving her in this.

the man i visited back in minneapolis told me he talked to God every night to let him know he was ready to die whenever it would please God. this stirs up a memory of a really intense time i had of dealing with the reality of death last fall. i had a lot of times when i'd wake up in the middle of the night and feel death really close. not like i was going to die, but i was just reminded of how transient life was and felt a sense of urgency. i don't know if it was from the Lord, but i was reminded of jonathan edwards' resolutions and how he resolved to think of his own death every day. i want to do that. i think it would cause me to live differently. to see things in a more godly perspective. fall semester, i was reading a book called suffering and the sovereignty of god, and one of the sections was about death. the author was saying how God will give us grace to understand and not fear death when the time comes. like a father who gives the train ticket to his child just before he gets on the train, i won't get the grace to die until it's time to die. i don't know if that makes sense, but it helps me to rest in the confidence that Jesus gives me new grace for each situation he ordains for me. i may fear it and not understand it now, but He goes before me and prepares the way. what a comfort.

i wrote a poem about this for my capstone project. about how skewed my view of death is. maybe i already wrote about this, but it's a theme that's woven into my life really tightly: i fear so much that heaven will be a place with no emotion or sensation. i fear numbness. i fear i'll have this veil over my eyes and all my senses that will keep me from feeling things.

i have it so backwards. the veil is on my eyes now. i am numb now. my senses are suppressed now. i cannot experience beauty or experience God or His creation the way He intended because of sin. when I see Jesus, he will remove the veil from my eyes and it's then i will be free. Only in Heaven will I experience all five of my senses in the rich, colorful, focused way God intended them.

---
Awake, O Sleeper

What’s that time between sunset and night?
No, not twilight— that fading part of day
when light becomes anonymous.

That’s how I dream of eternity.

A dank cellar choking on air
when you throw open the latch,
a procession of skeletons climbing
a ladder to a basilica of shrines and penumbras.

And that’s how winter was: antihistamines glazing my veins
in a hospital triage, and just like that, three days gone.
My balsa bones drift in a crucible river and I am distant,
otherworldly, serious like death.

The world without end I hide from is cadent like suffering—

where saints tie tourniquets, god washes mouths with anesthetic,
mute choirs muffle hymns through mouths of bells.
Rings of old coffee cups on tables without edges
and everyone’s mumbling something about death.

I wake.
Across the street, a wife’s heart says no more
and a husband lets go of her delicate hand.

i do not have it all together.

yesterday i met with the board of the wesley foundation and was so encouraged. i expected to be grilled, but it was more like of these three people encouraging me, counseling me, loving on me, and confirming God's purpose and desire for me here. God is being so faithful to speak to me and provide me with a vision for my ministry here, even if i'm not so faithful in pursuing his voice and his will. we talked about art and its role in ministry and worship. poetry and literature and music and visual arts. it was so good. i've never had a group of believers encourage me so much to integrate my love for Jesus and my ministry with creative writing. i am so prone to compartments.

it's so much easier just to coast along each day and just sleep in and hang out with people and make jokes and talk about music, but those things are so unsatisfying if Christ is not at their center. i see that what i'm doing is keeping Jesus as a compartment of my life. i realized that yesterday at my interview. i hadn't had good, fulfilling time with Jesus in a while, yet it was so easy for me to give Jesus answers and quote bible verses. i can't live life that way! i can't pour out unless my cup is overflowing. otherwise what i give to those i minister to will be crap. it will be from me. and it will fail people. i need rich time with Jesus. i can't operate on fumes, or i'll get burned out. it's so sweet that he's already teaching me how to operate in ministry and i haven't really begun yet. and he's being so good to me and gentle with me in revealing the sin of my heart. i feel like he wants to invade my heart with His light, but i know he won't begin the work he's asking me to let him do on my heart if i don't open it.

i am slowly learning discipline. i really want to look at 1 peter this summer, find a legit small group (i am trying one this thursday with my good friend jenny), and seek discipleship or mentorship.consistency and discipline and are such easy sins- but they're so not fulfilling or satisfying! i realized this a little last semester. i spent so much time just being lazy and avoiding studying, but i really felt better and more refreshed when i was productive and faithful.

there's another big facet of ministry i'd really like God to refine me in. i'm going to be with college students all the time, some of them older than me and most of them close to my age. it will be a really big fight for me to be the aroma of Christ to people when my flesh just wants their approval. it's fun to be clever and witty and outgoing and such, but often those things don't reap eternal fruit for me. God's teaching me how to be productive and edifying and how to build others up in big group situations. my friend jenny, who goes to church with me and is around the people i hang out with quite a bit, has been so helpful to me in this. i've had such sweet time with her. i've seen that building up and encouraging is not my default. my default is micromanaging my image. and it is not my default, i am seeing, to be loving and tender and gentle. the other day i met some people and was a little nervous around them for some reason. instead of shutting up and being a normal person when i met them, i defaulted to making sarcastic and rude remarks. i had to be honest with these people and ask their forgiveness and tell them that i want to love more like Jesus but my flesh seeks approval in backwards ways most of the time. i'm not sure if it's a defense mechanism or where it comes from, but i know it's a sin that Jesus is slowly grafting out of my life.

in other news,
10/11 days i've been here have been mostly sunny.
i found another coffee shop i like, j and b. it's a lot closer than sugar browns, and the iced soy chai is exactly the same, only cheaper :) and there seem to be more college students here.
gas is cheap here and i've learned that the cost of living in lubbock is cheaper than anywhere else in texas and the job market is legit too. and the people here are so kind and wonderful, which outweighs the absence of green and hills and water. i think what i'm trying to get at is i like it here.
i don't think i can have caffeine anymore ever. i have been drinking a lot of tea and diet coke (and by a lot i mean one every afternoon), and by mid evening i have this horrible nervousness welling up in my chest. i don't like it.
let me emphasize that there are so many stray animals here. dogs and cats. there's one neighborhood with several cats outside almost every house. i may have already mentioned this but my roommate kat and i were taking photos in this field outside an apartment complex and i found a girls' northface by a dumpster. so i took it and washed it. judge me all you want.
almost got caught by the cops last night at a park that was closed. so we had to hide in the brush and now i have terrible wounds on my legs (if terrible wounds meant big scratches i'd be telling the truth)
my roommate rachel is in africa so i get to borrow all her clothes. if i ever get bored with mine i just go in her closet and pick 5 things and move them to my own closet. my roommates are very good about sharing. it's nice.
jenny eats all organic food and no fast food or soda and says it makes her feel better. i might try that. starting with fast food. rip, sonic mozerella sticks.
i had a very nice waiter at ihop who gave us free iced coffee (of which i didn't partake, of course) and a free refill of chocolate milk etc etc even when refills aren't free. i don't know if he was just really nice or wanted a big tip. i feel like those are schemes i would pull if i were a waiter in need of some extra bones.
and my lifelong best friend (i forgot to tell anyone that i had one!) since third grade named haley lives in austin. she's the only friend i still have from grade school. and she's going to come visit me in lubbock in june. i am very excited.


i'm going to go write a letter asking people for money now.

post script

it is very hard for me not to be edgy and clever and vague in my posts, just fyi. talking about my day is not as satisfying as excerpts of poetry and song lyrics and syntactically pleasing sentences, etc etc etc.

lub a dub dub

lubbock is much flatter and run down than i could have ever expected. there is nothing green. and it's hot. but the sky is huge and blue and the sun is always out. and i hear the sunsets and stars are something to boast about.

my apartment is wonderful, though a million times messier than my room back at school (didn't think that could even happen). there's a pool and a hottub and my room is really great. i had to be really creative with decorating, but i like it. having my own space is really refreshing to me.

graduation wasn't anything momentous (one highlight- al ottley shaking my hand and telling me he still had snickers for me in his office). it was so much fun to have my roommate/new bff kat fly up to minneapolis. i'm glad she got to see my world and meet my closest friends. my graduation party was such a good means of closure. i had my best friends make me mix cd's and i listened to all 12 of them on the way down. the drive was long, but we stopped in desmoines and stayed overnight at my friend elyse's house. the states got progressively uglier as we drove south.

i feel like i'm going to collapse without structure, so i need to find some soon. i'm really excited to start going to new churches. a part of me wants to go to two services per sunday for a week or two just to truncate the search process. nevertheless, i'm so excited to get plugged into a church community.


i'm being constantly reminded of God's faithfulness and provision in all of these things.

i am being blessed.


in conclusion,
my roommates are sweet and fun and helpful,
i found a great coffee shop called sugar brown's with good music, amazing iced soy chai that i wish would never end. art, and people who like poetry. i'm already making a little creative writing network, which excites me,
i'm coming up with hilarious nicknames for everyone (e.g. bifidus gregularis, bendonesia)
there is little diversity here. i really want to find some,
i made my walls look beautiful- i hung a big square scarf on the wall with pushpins (YES!!! i can nail things in my wall now) and put pictures on it with tack like a beautiful, whimsical make-do bulletin board. i got a huge antique world map and a bookshelf. )i'm going to post some photos on facebook.)
i came home to my apartment to two boys who helped me move my things in and made kat and me a delicious taco dinner,
the heat is really dry so it doesn't actually feel that hot. i'm just happy i can breathe outside,
there are brick streets,
in july (buzzkill?) i'm moving into a pretty old house with wood floors, a fireplace, vaulted ceilings, and the most beautiful kitchen i've ever seen in july,

all the people i've met have made me feel really loved and tell me that i'll find beauty in lubbock in time.

i'll wait.

i have to keep reminding myself this is not a vacation.

i'll watch your pretty life play out in pictures from afar

my heart is being stretched.

maps

December twenty-second
was a moth-eaten almanac of highways.
No one could tell interstate vein from artery,
but there was a steady motion,
a rhythm toward something.
That day we were swaying to madness.

Exit 169.
A man unfolds his prayer rug in a rest stop
and postures his soul toward Mecca.
Above him, a daughter begs
a paper Wisconsin for a way home.
(But where was home then?)
Her mother throats, “Why don’t you love me?”

Pleading never gets you anywhere.

I want to log and unfold
and dress up my days like maps,
iron out each to one dimension,
lay it prostrate, smooth its wrinkles
and press my fingers to its pulse.

Draw valleys up
and pull mountains from their roots.
Relocate and rephrase.
Refold and enter.

blip

i've been really into blip.fm for the past couple of weeks. it's a website a lot like twitter, but instead of posting a status, you post the songs you're listening to. kind of a hybrid between pandora and twitter. only more legit than both. it's an easy way to create a playlist and listen to other peoples' music. [mine is blip.fm/abecksies.] props to gregarious for pointing me in blip's direction. elsewhere on the technology front, i have been trying to import my blog to wordpress because the layouts are so much more beautiful. but it won't really work.


i'm finished. done with work, done with class, done with finals, FINALly finished with my poetry project. now all i have to do is move out, graduate, have my little grad soiree, and drive twenty hours in my newly purchased motor vehicle with my texas roommate kat. then i'll be in my new home. for i don't know how long. doing i don't exactly know what. my endings and beginnings are starting to overlap.

now that i don't have so much attached to me [i.e. academic commitments, a job, and the like] and there's so much looming in the future, i'm already feeling a lot more creative and free. i hope i can find some kind of writing class in texas. and a life-giving, grace-giving church community. and a way to pay off school. i want a garden. i want to grow blackberries. i want a pet. and my own space to write.

my Father has already been so faithful to give to me. and will continue to be.


now,
i must consider the lilies.

slipping out quietly

i thought i'd make this big exit when i graduated and left minneapolis. you know, going to all my last classes and making a big deal about not having class anymore forever. or showing up at the last chapel of the school year and standing up when dean said "let's recognize all the seniors at their last chapel." scheduling goodbye appointments with all of my friends and sharing a tearful goodbye with someone at the airport on monday morning when i fly to lubbock.

alas,

i've slept through most of the chapels of the past few weeks, haven't really gone to much class, and am likely going to drive to lubbock now that my dad wants to get me a car. and i'm realizing that there is no possible way i can have a coffee date with every person i've loved since 2006.


i feel like my finish here is really cushioned. soft. i'm sleeping through milestones. whispering goodbyes. slipping out of a party quietly.

it's weird, and it's not what i would have picked or predicted, but i know God is being good to me in it.

write and wrong

I'm in this class about writing for profit. Basically, we're all learning how to be freelance writers. How to market ourselves. How to sell what we create and earn a living from it it. Budgets, expenses, cold calls, elevator speeches. I don't like it.

Yes, I've never taken a business class in my life. I do not understand how money works. (I mean, I thought until rather recently that banks stored the actual money I gave them in a safe with my name on it. What happens if a bank burns down? Where does all the money go?) I pay attention to and invest in things I love. It spilled out of me yesterday, how everything in my life points to this blazing center of language.

I just now realized why all of this freelance/professional writing/technical writing/grant writing/making writing academic mumbo jumbo is metamorphosing into something really undesirable to me. I want to learn writing as a craft, not as a means by which to earn money.

Writing is not a quadrant of my life or a hobby or job. It's my lenses; it's the way I see the world, the instrument God has given me to see and understand and enjoy the beauty of His creation.

Yes, God has gifted me and blessed me and ignited a fire in me for words. But I think that's why it's so sacred to me. I don't want to profane it.
I don't want my writing to be property. In my metaphorical mind, I equate that to human trafficking.


I don't want to write to make a living. For me, writing is living.

i am trying to break your heart

how do you know when you're passionate about something?

when everything else in your life points to it.


classes like philosophy and music - which would normally seem mundane and useless to me - become lifegiving to me when i see them pointing at poetry. i saw this when cadenza and melisma and hedonism and david hume started showing up in my writing.

the lenses of my eyes are poems.
my mind is a template for a poem. insert you, insert yesterday, insert grass and laundromats and nursing homes and madrid and summer and texas. . .

poems deconstruct the dams i've built to stop feeling things.
poems are reservoirs of emotion.
poems are dangerous and burdensome.



"If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the creator, there is no poverty." -rainer maria rilke