I'm Leaving New York and Moving to Tibet (With a Couple Steps in Between)

Um.

Well.

Yeah.

That about sums it up, now doesn't it?

But I'll expound.

But first, I'll say this:

I am leaving in 3 weeks.

And would you really expect anything less from me? ;)

I mean, when I CAME to NYC, I only gave you 4 weeks notice.

So there that is.

In light of some recent events and happenings, combined with close to lifelong dreams that are making my feet itch, combined with news of dear friends relocating to far off places and inviting me to join them... this quick decision has been made.

I've been in New York City for well over a year now, and it's been amazing. More than I ever could have imagined or dreamed. I know that it is no small thing that years from now, no matter where life takes me, I will be able to say that when I was only 20 years old, I picked up and moved to one of the biggest, harshest cities on earth for no other reason than that it exists. Also, I know that it is no small thing that years from now, no matter where life takes me, I will able to say that when I was 21 years old, I was a part of the creation of a global non-profit that is responsible for the rescue and renewal of lives for countless of women around the world.

No small thing at all.

I have also met some of the most incredible human beings on the planet here in this city... in passing as well as in the sense of building deep and lasting friendships- some of which I know will absolutely not change over distance and time. No matter what.

But the fact of the matter is, is that I have been in New York City for well over a year now, and I am not ready to settle down yet. Not even close. I am only 21 years old and there is so much of the world left that is calling my name. It's there to see and mine for the taking, and should I not reach out and take it, I would never be truly content.

More importantly, there is something that I have, for years and years, known that I've needed to do. We all have those things on our lists to do or accomplish or gain, and for me, it is Kilimanjaro. Sounds ridiculous, maybe, but it's true. After climbing my first mountain in Africa, I've been hooked. If you know me at all, you already know this. On top of that, there have been many things that have made me miss living in Africa very much and living with Mercy Ships even more. On top of THAT, some dear friends of mine from that time in Africa are moving to Tibet in August to live in the Himalayas for the next 10-15 years and have told me to come whenever for however long I'd like.

Anyway, without making this much longer than it needs to be, I've made the decision to move myself back to St. Louis for the next year in order to prepare for the travels I will begin after my brother's wedding sometime early in 2011. The plan is to return to Africa with Mercy Ships for however long it feels right to do so, and then head to Tanzania after I feel it is time to leave. In Tanzania, I will climb Kilimanjaro and then make my way to Tibet to live with Ben and Rosie in the Himalayas until, once again, I feel it is time to go.

There is no time frame on this journey- I'm not setting one. I am going into this with no expectations of what will happen when or what I will do after it's done. This could be anywhere from a few months to a few years. I just don't know. And I like it that way. :)

I realize this all sounds ridiculous. But I'm ridiculous. And as my dear friend Lindsey pointed out when I told her of these plans about a month ago, "You've never once said you were going to do something and not done it." And if you ask me, that's a pretty damn amazing thing to be able to claim as true for yourself- and have it observed by others in your life.

So here it is.

I'm saying it.

Guess that means I have to do it now, huh?

STL, I will see you January 21-28.

NYC, I will be saying my goodbyes to you on the 21st, and then returning briefly with my dad to gather my belongings and move them back to STL around the 28th and 29th.

Minneapolis, I will be hanging out with you for the month of February.

And STL, I'll be back to stay for the long haul sometime in March.

Until leaving the United States until further notice in 2011.

It's good to be alive.

Those of you in NYC, please let me know when I can see you before I go.

I will do all that I can to make time for you.

Those of you in STL- Get excited!

I love you all.

Your Wandering Gypsy Friend,

Jamie

They Always Go Again

This is from way back in September 2007

But in light of recent events and recent restorations,

I feel it's time to give it some air.

I am in love with this piece now.

Thank you, Jesus.

It's all over now. :)

It's just another one of those nights
I have grown quite accostomed to them by now, you know
They keep me company on occasion
Like an old friend who just drops in unannounced every so often
Bringing with him stories and memories and emotions that he doesnt bother to take with him when he goes again
Just like he always does.
He always goes again.

Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm okay.
Really, I am.
I smile and laugh much more than you might think.
And I am truly so content that it is almost uncanny.
But the thing is though, that every now and then, I remember your eyes.
And I swear to you, as crazy as it may sound, I can sometimes hear your voice.
And it calls my heart to it so distinctly and directly...
And wouldn't you know it?
That little heart of mine just drops everything and runs fast and hard straight on until morning!
But really, can you blame that silly little heart of mine?
It was trained so well.
So well.
And you cant really expect it to forget all of that quite so soon, can you?

But back to those eyes.
Oh, goodness, those eyes.
They scared the shit out of me.
Still do.
But now, it's because I am afraid they will never scare me in that good way again.
But you know what I loved the most?
When they were the scared ones.
That was when they were the most beautiful.
Which reminds me...
How did you get them to be so blue, anyway?
How did you get them to be so honest?

I want you to know that it was never difficult caring for you.
I know you always thought so, but you thought wrong.
When I said "I like you just the way you are", I meant it
I still mean it.
And I mean it in the most literal sense possible.
"Just the way you are"
Including where you are.
Honest.
Even though it hurts a little more.
Know why?
Because once you left, your heart came alive.
And it was the most beautiful thing I have seen in a long long time.

Sometimes I wish for too many things.
I know, I know, hard to believe right?
Shut up, smart ass, and listen.
Sometimes I wish for too many things.
But it is absolutely necessary for you to understand something, alright?
So listen close because it is important.
I want you to know that If I could...
I wouldn't.
I'm serious.
I really wouldn't wish to change a thing.
And trust me, I cant even believe that I am saying this either.
But it's true!
Does it hurt?
Ha. Fuck. Yes. BUT.
I love you too damn much to start thinking that either one of us would be better off if you were here.

So, please, I am going to have to ask you to just kindly disregard the fact that I'm crying.
It just kind of happens from time to time.
Nothing to get worked up over, really.
Nothing to worry about, nothing to see.
Because like I said, it's just one of those nights, that's all.
I swear, they just come out of nowhere!
Sneaky little devils.
But we have an understanding.
They only stay for a little while, make their mess, and then, just as quickly as they came, they are on their way again.
Just like they always do.
They always go again.

Would it be too much for me to tell you that I miss you?
Because I do.
A whole lot.
I feel like you should probably know that.
And you should probably know that I am so very excited for you, too.
For everything!
I cannot wait to see what you and Jesus do together next.
Man, you love Him so much.
It is so inspiring.
You are inspiring.
You are a miracle.
I am continually fascinated by you.
Take the compliment.
I know it makes you uncomfortable, but take it anyway.
And just give credit Where credit is due.

Thank you for choosing obedience over easy.
Thank you for choosing "right" over me.
It would have broken my heart to pieces if you hadn't.
Thank you for just being you.

I hope I get to hug you soon.
It would be lovely.
If you want to know a secret, I am constantly praying for God to make everything lovely for you.
No matter what it is you are doing.
Even when you're sleeping.
In fact, you're probably sleeping right now, considering it is almost two in the morning where you are.
I hope the dream you are having right now is lovely.
I hope the temperature in your room is just right for you to feel comfortable
And that you finally got a decent pillow to sleep on.
I hope that those hooligan neighbors of yours are not making too much noise
And that the light that comes through your window in the morning doesn't do that annoying thing where it shines directly into your eyes making it impossible to stay asleep for as long as you would like to.
I hope it shines in that way that makes everything ordinary look magical.

I hope that lots and lots of small little lovely things happen to you tomorrow.
Like a cool breeze that comes out of nowhere the exact moment that you realize you are a little too warm than you would like to be.
(I heard it has been hot up there these past few days.)
Or seeing an exceptionally beautiful sunset.
You always notice things like that.
It is one of my favourite things about you.
But trust me, there's many more.

Anyway, I think it is about time for this night to be over.
It wasn't so bad this time, actually.
They are slowly and steadily becoming nicer to me when they decide to visit.
Or maybe I am just learning to enjoy their company more.
They really aren't so bad, come to think of it.
They never stay long.
Just long enough to make me think about you.
But I don't mind much.
Because when I get to think about you, I get to pray for you.
And I am so glad to be able to.

The thought of your joy makes me smile.
I pray it fills your heart.
Peace, too.
I love you, really I do.
And don't worry, there is plenty more where this came from.
Give it time and I will have even more things to say.
Maybe someday, I can actually say them to you.
Until then, goodnight, you.
I have high hopes for tomorrow.
I think this one's gonna be good...

Delicate

I'll admit you stole my sleep

But I woke up to a new world

One in which we are finally able to have each other as intended

Embracing the destruction of us both

And knowing once and for all that we were wrong

And that is all.

There is no blame to pass

Only freedom to enjoy

And I am walking differently now

Taller, past those places where you had held me close

Slower, through the things we built together

No longer too afraid to look at them for what they are:

Beautiful. Temporal. Real.

And how could we have ever really known?

And now that you have come through your darkness, I know why you would not let me walk beside

The truth is that I've never anything but loved you deeply

I want nothing less than the utmost of happiness for you always

That is what my love must mean

For now I know it will not be with me.

My waiting room has caught afire

And the smoke is not worth breathing in

Newer grounds will come from this wreckage

And beauty will overtake these ashes before my eyes

So finally, I will take my leave

And remove your heart from mine

Make no mistake, the sun is high

And I will never be the same.

Quit You

I miss you

But I don't

Because I don't really miss you

I miss what I wanted you, so badly, to be

I miss the glimpses

I miss the way you held me

I miss the way it felt when you knew exactly what to say

What to do

How to look at me

And I want you to hold me again

I feel as though I'm bubbling over

With just how much I want you here again

But I know it wouldn't be honest

It wouldn't be true

It wouldn't be real

Because it never was

But even still, I hope

That maybe there were moments

When you really meant the things you said

And you really cared the way you said you did

Why do I keep checking in on you

Why do I keep wondering how you are

Why do I keep hoping you're okay

That you don't let the things I said settle too deeply

Or begin to define you

Because while I meant them, I know you never meant to

And if I'm truly honest with myself, I know you cared as much as me

You just didn't know how to show it

But it's so much safer to call it all a lie

But again, I find myself here

At this crossroads

Of knowing exactly what it is I want

But knowing that it's exactly what you could not give

It's unfair for you to show me pieces of what you're capable of

And never follow through

I want to tell you

I want to see you

I want to touch you

But I won't

I shouldn't

And anyway, I can't

You left

And there's nothing more that I can do

I don't know how to forgive you like I want to

I don't know how to forget you like I need to

I don't know how to quit you

At all

I don't want to quit you

At all

I don't know if I will quit you

At all

But I must

Because it seems as though you quit me

A long time ago

Please Call Me By My True Names

There has been much to think about recently.

Therefore, there is much to write about.

Where should I even start?

How about the response to my last post...

Redemptive, to say the least.

I honestly don't know if I could put it into words accurately enough.

All I have is "Thank you".

From the absolute bottom of my heart.

Thank you to everyone that read and responded and even passed it along.

You have no idea how healing your actions were- done in response to my action of speaking up.

I feel older than I did a week ago.

Saying I feel like a "different person" would be inaccurate because I feel like the exact same person, just further along.

This is what life is supposed to feel like, isn't it?

Constant growth.

It's just that I allow myself to be distracted so easily that I allow that growth to be stunted.

By things that aren't necessarily "bad"; there is just no life in them.

That is something I have been evaluating a lot recently:

What has life in it?

What has death in it?

I wrote this in an email earlier today as part of a back and forth discussion between myself and a fellow Nomian on C.S. Lewis' essay "The Weight of Glory":

"...The one thing I do want to touch on is the mistake of calling those things "fun". Because though they look like it, they lead to death. And I remember hearing that as a child and thinking, "Sure. Death. Right. Because sin is why we go to hell. That's what that means." No. No no no. That is not at ALL what that means. Death means death. In every sense of the word. It means not being fully alive. And that doesn't just mean when your heart stops beating and your mind powers down. You can be full of death whilst still breathing..."

And at times when I am most confused and low, I hear it:

"Remember, Beloved, death has lost it's victory. Death has lost it's sting."

Death has no business being a part of my life. My LIFE.

Only that which is true is beautiful.

Give me only what is true.

I went to Philadelphia this past weekend. I saw someone I had not seen in two years. My heart has been completely restored and healed. And I have let go. That is all there really is to say about that.

Also while in Philadelphia, I had a whoooole bunch of conversations with Lindsey- as per usual. A great many where we became incredibly frustrated with one another at some point because we see a few details of the same things different ways. Every time, she was trying to make me understand something that I either couldn't grasp or didn't want to admit. Usually the latter.

I was in Barnes and Noble today reading some more of a book that I had been reading during my time there with her called "Being Peace" by Thich Nhat Hanh. I came across this and understand so much of what it is she was trying to say to me.

I will let it speak to you as it will.

If you would like to know how it spoke to me, ask me. I would love to tell you.

Blessings to you, dear ones.

You are so very beloved. Learn to claim that over yourself at all times.

Please Call Me By My True Names

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow 
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second 
to be a bud on a spring branch, 
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, 
learning to sing in my new nest, 
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, 
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, 
in order to fear and to hope. 
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and 
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time 
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond, 
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence, 
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, 
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks, 
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to 
Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea
pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and
loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my
people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names, 
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once, 
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names, 
so I can wake up, 
and so the door of my heart can be left open, 
the door of compassion.

-Thich Nhat Hanh

The Hardest Thing I've Ever Had To Say

This isn't going to start out any other way than any other thing I have ever written.

But it is very much unlike any other thing I have ever written.

Because I don't want to be writing it.

This is one story I do not want to tell.

But it is the one story that I need to tell.

Because it is the one story you need to read.

It's long, but please.

There is much to say.

Tonight, I had coffee with a dear friend of mine. Standard event, typical occurrence.

But no, not really.

Tonight was different.

I am so much older than I was yesterday.

I am going to break a few rules here and tell you the effect before the cause, her response before what I had said.

She asked me if I ever did yoga.

I answered yes.

She told me something that someone she does yoga regularly with told her once.

"You know how, sometimes, you'll be in those really difficult positions and you become so self aware that you notice something strange about the positioning of some part of your body? (She bent her right middle finger) Like, when your hand is on the mat, and you look down at it and see your finger isn't quite resting as it should and it just looks kind of... ugly. The most important way to respond is to see it. Really see it, notice it for what it is. Call it the ugly that it is. Then accept it for being such, and then soften it. Make it gentle."

Well, no matter how badly I may be fighting this right now and how much I really don't want to do this, this is how I make my ugly into gentle. This is how I soften...

The other night I was coming home late from being out with some friends. Details don't matter, all that matters is that it was late. Really late. The kind of late that turns into early. And I was coming home. I came up out of the train and after taking a few steps, noticed that someone was walking, in near-perfect synchronization , with my pace, just a few steps behind me. I became uncomfortable. I got "that vibe"- every woman knows the one I'm talking about. My phone was dead so there is not much I could have done anyway, except just keep walking. Quickly. So I did.

I made it to my doorstep with this man still behind me, and I began to walk up the stairs. The first step had me feeling like maybe I had misjudged the man and jumped to conclusions too quickly. I was safe. I was home. I was on my front step. But when I reached the second step- I was sexually assaulted. The man reached up my skirt and- to be as delicate as possible- touched me inappropriately. I don't need to expound. You know what I mean.

In all honestly, I have never wanted to cry like a child in my entire life more than at that moment, right there. My knee jerk reaction was to yell, "Oh my god!" and then choke out that sob that wanted so badly to wrench itself out of my body. But in the next instant, I was angry. Livid. Not only because of what he did, but because he made me feel that way. And he was not allowed to make me feel that way. No one is allowed to make me feel that way. So I turned and screamed at him with everything I had in me. "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

He laughed.

And walked away.

I cried that night, but functioned fairly normally for the next few days until last night, where a panel conversation among men about sex trafficking had a much deeper effect on me than I expected it to. A poem was read that left me in tears, choking back those same sobs from only 4 nights before, and after the panel, a friend and co-worker asked me if I was alright. I'm an honest person- I said no. We began to walk and talk and I started to tell her how I was feeling and midway through a sentence she stopped, grabbed my arm, looked me in the eye, and asked me if something happened.

After that question, I don't think I stopped crying for an entire hour.

Not just over this situation, another extremely hurtful and fairly demeaning one had occurred recently in my life as well; but in regards to this experience, she suggested I take action against this assault. Seeing as how I never got a good look at the man, I'm not sure if there is much that I can do. But something she said has stayed with me since that conversation. "You're not a victim if you take action."

And while contacting the police might cease to make me feel like a victim externally, more importantly to me, is the necessity of no longer feeling like a victim internally.

And for me, that means to write. The way I process, the way I heal, the way I communicate, is through my written words. And ultimately, as negative as this experience was, it made me connect with and understand something so important to me in a way that I never had before.

When that man took that action against me, something was taken from me in that instant: my value and worth. As a human being. As a woman.

In that moment, I was nothing more than an object that happened to possess the pieces necessary to make him feel a certain way. Turn him on.

In that moment, I was treated as property- though never purchased- that he felt he had the right and ability to touch and use for his own pleasure at his own leisure.

In that moment, I had no voice, no thoughts, no feelings, no soul, no mind, no emotions, no power, no potential. I only had legs and what lives between them.

And he felt entitled to it. Entitled to receive something precious and protected from me without actually knowing or caring anything for me.

This is how I call it what it is:

Ugly. Violent. Shameful. Unacceptable. Wrong.

This is how I accept it for what it is:

Painful. Hurtful. Discriminatory. Disrespectful. Wrenching. Haunting.

This is how I soften it, reign it in, make peace with it, and turn it into something gentle:

I speak. I feel. I tell. I connect. I cry. I learn. I fight.

I do not stand on that step and cry like a child, I remember my strength and I yell like a woman.

And then I remember that I do not yell only for my own sake, but for theirs too.

I yell my story, and then I yell theirs louder.

My horror is matchless to that which they endure day after day, year after year, but my heart stands with them in solidarity- in a more powerful way than I have ever experienced before.

These women, these girls who are sold like cattle, beaten as property, chained like prisoners, and abused like objects. These women, these girls, that have something taken from them 5, 10, 15, 20 times a day. I knew this. But never before had I been in the position of knowing what it feels like to have something taken from you in that way. Until now.

As someone who has resigned and committed my life to eradicating sexual violence and slavery, I must speak up for myself now that I myself have been affected by a form of sexual violence and assault. I must speak because if I remain quiet, my silence claims that it is acceptable.  And anyone who knows me well knows that if you want to fan my fire, ask me if I believe whether or not sexual exploitation, in any form, of women is okay.

Having just completed work on the initial appeal for the Nomi Network holiday campaign, I used the illustration of the power of our stories and shared the story of one of the women working with us in Cambodia (read it here). She was brave enough to share her story with the world, and it was and is my obligation to retell hers and share my own.

And the truth is: We all, each and every one of us, have an obligation to do the same. For if we remain quiet, our silence claims that it is acceptable.

We know what is right, and we know what is wrong. But do we feel it burning in our bones? Do our souls catch fire at the sight of injustice? Has it taken hold of our time, money, thoughts, energy, resources, conversations, lives? Because if not, it is only because we have tragically forgotten that we belong to each other.

Had I chosen not to share my story and invite you all into in with all the honesty and vulnerability I have in me, I would only have been laying down in the tracks of what I fight against on a daily basis.

This has made me mad as hell. Beyond that. Outraged. Infuriated. That man was not entitled to lording power over me in any way. No man is entitled to lording any sort of violence or domination or power over any woman in anyway. Ever. What that man did to me was unacceptable. What happens to millions of women around the world every single day is completely unacceptable.

We have got to stop acting like it doesn't matter if it doesn't happen to us or nothing will ever change. We have got to start speaking up, both women AND men, when we see or experience injustice.  And we have got to stop pretending like it's not happening. We have all become responsible. And if knowing their horror and knowing their captivity doesn't make you want to scream and cry and fight for freedom with absolutely everything you have, I don't know what ever will.

Long Overdue

So I'm sitting here in my apartment, listening to my Bon Iver Pandora station, knowing full well that I need to leave my apartment in about 2 hours to go to work... and yet, I am not sleeping.

I am writing.

Leave it to me so neglect something that I know builds and builds and builds inside of me and eventually explodes until the exact moment I need it to explode the least.

Or maybe things are not always as they appear.

Maybe right now is when I need it the most.

Maybe right now is the moment that I'm finally ready to say a lot of the things I haven't been saying for such a long time now.

Maybe right now holds so much more promise, possibility, and meaning than meets the eye.

Maybe all of my "right nows" always do, I'm just not really looking at those moments to see it.

I'm too busy thinking about whatever it is I think I should be doing.

I should be sleeping. (Because that's what I'm told the night is for)

I should be making money. (Because that's what I'm told makes my world turn)

I should be hanging out with people. (Because that's what I'm told gives me meaning)

Says who?

Why is it that I've placed these expectations on myself and put myself under so much pressure to do these things that I'm not really sure I need to do or even want to do all the time?

You know what I want to do?

Be.

And be with my Beloved.

Always.

That's it.

I feel like I'm coming out of a fog.

And you know what the awesome thing is?

I still can't see where I'm going.

But for once, I don't care.

Because I am so very confident in Who I am going with.

I tried for a long while there to follow other paths with lesser loves holding my hand and leading me on.

That was just silly. And eventually painful.

And I lost myself in the midst of it all.

I've been gone for a while, I really have.

Like, if anyone who truly knows me were to have looked at me through spiritual eyes over the past year, they probably saw nothing more than a blurry outline and shadow.

But now...

I think they'd see me.

I hope they'd see me.

Because I sure feel like me.

You know something?

I've been disappointed a great deal recently.

By some very dear people.

And one person who I thought could be and attempted to make very dear.

But it was so very forced.

And never reciprocated... no matter how much they may claim it was.

(Actions speak so much louder)

It made me cry on more than one occasion, I'll admit.

I fucking hate that. I hated that it held so much importance to me that it affected my emotions in the purest, rawest form.

But the honest truth is that I always knew it was nowhere near right or healthy or necessary or good.

And the honest truth is that it was kept from me, though I made many mistakes (repeatedly) while trying to hard to make it stay.

The honest truth is that I deserve so much better.

And that I was made for so much more than what that situation could have offered me.

I think about it now and it makes me shudder.

How completely silly I was.

And naive.

And willing to settle.

I knew that if I got it onto paper, I'd get it out of my system and I'd be able to let it go.

That's all it would take.

And I was right.

The disappointments are still flooding, but I am not finding myself disappointed.

I was incredibly deceived over a period of many months, but I am finding myself full.

And so very content.

And genuinely happy.

Know why?

Because I was made for so much more.

And I've decided to claim it again.

Sometimes I wonder if some people get into relationships or get married simply because they lack the creativity to think of something else to do... Or are too afraid to do what they really want to do- alone. Especially people my age and younger. They're too afraid to do anything outside of what everyone has always done and what society thinks they should do. They're too afraid to face everyday without feeling like they're in love with someone or that someone loves them because it's a security blanket. They don't think themselves brave enough to simply live. As they are. And it's sad. Because they miss so much of what they're capable of because they never learn how to trust themselves to truly be okay on their own. And the beauty found in just proving what you can do to no one else but yourself.

Without exaggeration, literally everyday, I have someone  in my life, even if they're passing through, either say to me, or write me a Facebook message, or send me a text, or contact me online in some way telling me:

-they admire the decisions I have made in my life, or

-I have inspired them in some way to see life differently, or

-I am living out one or more of their dreams, or

-they wish they could be more like me

I do not say any of this to sound conceited... I am being completely honest.

And it makes me wonder...

Why are people wasting their time saying these things to me instead of just DOING them?

Honestly, there is no difference at all between myself and them.

We are both just as smart and capable and brave and imaginative... I just think that a great many of us have forgotten these things about ourselves and have settled for what we're told we should do and be instead.

I'm only 21. I don't pretend to know everything. In fact, I really don't know much of anything.

But what I do know is simple.

I know that the people who choose the ordinary beaten path are going to be comfortable and content.

But I don't want either one of those.

Give me ridiculous. Give me daring. Give me bold. Give me dangerous. Give me unexpected.

Bring me to the unfamiliar places and I will make my own way.

I know that chasing your dreams doesn't make much sense this day in age, and in this economy,  you can't take risks with your future.

But what the hell else am I to do with it if not take risks?

And I know that people always do what they want to do.

And if you don't do it... you didn't want it that badly.

No objections. No excuses.

It's just true.

If you don't chase it... you don't want it.

And I want too many things too badly to simply settle into something that makes me feel super warm and fuzzy, but makes me forget what I was created for.

And these things are things I have to do alone. That I only desire to do alone.

I can't fully explain why... I just need to.

That's it.

So there it is.

I've hurt in my hurts.

I've embraced them, let them enter into my skin, and I've picked myself up and moved forward.

Because we all know how I get if I stand in one place for too long... ;)

I need nothing more than the promise that my Beloved is always with me.

To pretend that I need any more than that is to forget how much life there is in His presence.

Always.

Just waiting for me to take hold of it and begin walking...

So here we go...

Happy Birthday

To my darling Gracie!

http://www.graceefree.blogspot.com

She's backpacking through my favourite country (Thailand) as we speak after dancing and living it up in China for the past few months.

Check out her blog to learn more about her adventures and experience for yourself what a precious soul she is. :)

Come home to me soon, love!

Benchmark

Those benches look as if they could talk to one another.
Now, granted, they would have to shout
Being separated by such a busy street
But talk, they would
If talk, they could
And oh, the things that they would say
About us.

Those fading lights on tepid evenings
That sank us deeper into our cigarettes
And each other
As honesty lifted in the smoke that swirled above our heads
And each passerby pretended not to look
As we made it seem to them as if we actually had something to whisper about
Rather than just something that even we didn't believe ourselves
Even as we said it.

I asked first
On more than one occasion
A role that never should have been my own
But I swallowed
Still
And silent
On more than one occasion
And you soothed my troubled thoughts
With a collection of movements between:
Your head on my shoulder
Your hand on my thigh
And your eyes locked, hard, onto mine
Daring me to continue whatever it was that I was saying in the first place
...Whatever was I saying in the first place?
Whatever you wanted me to say.
Because truth be told, I only wanted you to stay.
And ask me to do the same.

But still
And silent
You never did
For more than one night at a time
And as we would walk from those benches
Feigning our own surprise
Hands clasped together for some kind of warmth
or strength
or pretense
I would already know what morning was going to bring
What morning was going to be-
An honest walk back to where I belong
But further away from who I am
And who I want to be anymore.

And so, I will let you go
I will get you onto paper and out of my system
Off of my fingertips
So that I can breathe in something else for a change
And occupy my thoughts with higher things
Than what it is that I wonder you to be doing
When you don't ask me to come around.

You will walk away
And I won't stare at your back for any longer than it takes
To realize all that I am gaining in your absence now
All that I am finally able to embrace
All that I am finally ready to become.

Out, out!
And I will make you into nothing more than black and white
Shapes and symbols
Tone and tongue
And I will take back what I tried so hard to give to you
But you were not strong enough to hold
And instead, kept at arm's length
Too afraid of what would happen should you draw it closer to your skin
Let it crawl inside and settle down within.

See, I know that there is beauty in this dark room somewhere
But I can't take the time to search for it anymore
The sun is rising and as always, that's my cue to leave
So hear me out just one more time before I do what we both need:
I have never been any less than all I needed to be
And that is so much more than nights like this will ever let you see.

The Long Journey

Everything in me is hating this. Absolutely hating this.
I keep chewing my gum just to keep myself busy- to keep my mouth occupied so I don't scream.
I have no control over this entire situation and I can't stand it.

I stand on the subway platform, surrounded by teems of people- each, quite obviously, in the exact same frustrating predicament as me, and yet, I feel no brotherhood. More like animosity. I'm unsure of why exactly this is- probably simply because my own instincts are attempting to tell me that I don't belong here. That this wait at this platform at this hour was meant for these people- but not for me. So why the hell am I here? When really, what my brain is trying to keep my conscience from asking it is, what right do I have? What sort of privilege do I own at all that allows me to spin my own reality to tell me that inconvenience is allowed to happen to anyone else but me?

A few days before, I moved out of my familiar, comfortable, convenient apartment in Brooklyn in order to sublease it to a friend in need, and save myself from a month's rent that I couldn't afford. So, without fully knowing what I had gotten myself into, I moved a few necessary belongings and my state of being up to Astoria- what I would soon find out to be a strange and distant land, heavy on the distant. The opportunity was offered to me by a generous friend who graciously opened up her home to me for the next month at no cost me. And though I am grateful, I am adjusting and I am uncomfortable. I lament over this decision and how the train changes and my lack of knowledge about said train changes are going to cause it to take me an ungodly amount of time to get back to that place I am sleeping these days.

But there is a place I am sleeping these days.

And every time another minute passes at a different transfer and the train doesn't come and I feel my spirit and legs growing wearier and wearier, I think to myself:
If I take a cab from here, it will only be...
If I take a cab from HERE, it will only be...
And so I consider my options. The very real and viable options that, although financially inconvenient, are actually fairly financially feasible.

But they are my options.

Time passes and I slowly make my way to the home stretch: the final transfer. Finally finding myself above ground, the cabin fever starts to wear off and I pull out my phone to read some news stories and occupy my time, as I have completely lost interest in my book. And as I sit inside the last of these trains that have had me silently complaining for the last two and a half hours, I discover that the number of chronically hungry people in the world how now topped one billion. And that cities across the United States are dealing with a surge in shantytowns as more and more people are losing their homes and are forced to make do with tent shelters on the streets.

I feel the world start to spin again. This time around it's rightful object of orbit- and that's not me.

The train stops. I still have a walk ahead of me. Once again, I consider a cab. I opt that because I have legs, I should probably use them, but my boots and the holes in them seem to disagree. They were unprepared to handle the rain I didn't know was going to fall tonight... and neither was any other part of me. Collectively, we drudge ourselves along these last few blocks as I feel my thoughts spinning inside my head. I hardly feel the cold misty rain on my face anymore. My steps seem to be taking me faster than I remember them taking me before, and I barely even notice the water seeping in and slowly soaking my left foot.

I climb the stairs and enter the apartment and collapse on the bed almost at once, but before I let sleep take me over, I remember something. I'm still chewing that gum. The gum that I had started chewing that night after the long and wonderful dinner I had with a good friend just after getting off work from a job that I enjoy while working with people I love.

That gum that kept me such good company on that long journey to where I needed to be.

I get up. I spit out the gum. I lay back down in the comfortable bed inside of this warm apartment, provided for me by a dear friend.

And I realize:
Heart...
We have such a long way left to go.

Nothing More

These cigarettes don't taste like your lips anymore

And your flavour no longer lingers on my tongue

That short lived dance we undertook in the pale breaking light

Has finally faded into the background of my mind

And my hands are not as cold.

Sleep, feel free to come again

We put you off so long before

We told you not to come

As we piled our pasts, one on top of the other

To see how high we could build this beauty

Until time tore it down, as we knew it should

Frozen clocks cannot command horizons

And dawn does not take its cue from our desires

A hint of rain, a hurried glance

A minute stretched unto its end

And yet you stayed just long enough to comment on the colour of my eyes.

Twice I begged what wasnt mine to ask

And twice you kept the secret to yourself

Our breath quickened, our pulses raced

But not once did we forget ourselves

I did not lose myself to you

For the memories of morning are all I needed anyway

Because truth be told, I do not have much else to give

And doubt I ever will.

This mistaken longing has once again reaffirmed itself as carnal instinct

-nothing more-

And I have never felt so free.

Bridge

Chain smoking for dinner

The acid burns my tongue

And turns it into a rudder that I can no longer steer.

I'm here alone with just explosions in the sky.

Unable to decipher thunder from the train,

and I am glad.

The view of what my life has become almost takes my breath away.

The beauty and exhaustion mix

and swell

and take me under

to where the wind is not so strong.

And where I don't have to worry about wether I will walk or crawl.

Because both are movement...

Progress...

Further from where I was before.

I want this storm to cover me.

I want this rain to wash me clean.

Heavens, release your humid air and let your change come down.

Fall, fall, fall,

so that I don't have to anymore.

The truth now has been seen and sent,

but not yet spoken, never uttered

and it makes me wonder if it will always be this way.

I'm peeking in your windows and I hope that you don't mind.

It's all I've got these days, to be honest.

That, and my endless search of what settles me,

how I'm supposed to breathe again and what difference that really makes anyway when you're breathing so far away from me and you wanted it that way.

But this isn't about you at all.

It never has been, believe it or not.

I'm still trying.

When does this repetition cease?

When will I learn that scattering pieces isn't wise when there's no one there to seek them out and put them back where they belong and I don't have the strength to anymore?

When will I learn that silence isn't something to fear?

When will I know myself to be all that I feel I am?

The thing that others see in me.

The thing that I am made to be.

Freedom is on the horizon.

I can sense its awakening in every step towards home.

Maybe all this aimless wandering isn't aimless after all.

I think I was meant to find something greater than I expected and have ever held before.

From this point of misdirection and completion.

The first sign of life after this coma.

I will be whole again.

I will be whole again.

I am whole again.

I was never any less.

Entrance and Exit

I don't know why I let you in.

Maybe it was me- in my want of something different, something delicate.

Something I had never seen.

But you teased my eyes, and twisted my sight to notice something that wasn't even there-

A whole human being, body and soul laid out, not for the taking, but for the deepening, for the healing.

Maybe it was my need to prove to myself that once again, I could feel.

That I could long, that I could desire, after so many times only being the object of such.

I had to see that I could command it, and not only receive.

Maybe it was your eyes.

Maybe it was the sadness I had seen in them for so long until that moment when it turned itself into fear.

A fear that I just couldn't give legs to by turning you away.

Maybe it was the wasteland that had spread itself before us for a fortnight prior- and of the land mines that I knew lay quietly beneath.

I couldn't bear the thought of you tiptoeing your way- backwards and blindfolded- back from where we had come so far together, or so I thought.

Maybe it was your confession- the honesty you had revealed to me earlier without even an ounce of hesitation or shame.

Uncertainty on your sleeve as I had only ever seen once before- and I was drawn to it again.

Maybe it was the darkness that swelled around us- so quite and deafening all at once.

To have seen you fade back into it and return from where you came would have crippled my deepest core- not for myself, but for you and how I know it would have made you feel.

Maybe it was the fact that for the first time in what felt like forever, I wanted to show, rather than be shown.

To discover, rather than be known.

To prove, rather than hunger for the evidence myself.

I knew that what I was ready to give is what you were unsure of if you were ready to receive- and I weighed the cost.

I never found you wanting.

I never saw your damage.

I never trembled at the history you laid bare.

And I never once wished that you had stayed outside.

You occupied the empty space in my inner room for as long as I knew you would allow yourself, and the curtains absorbed our messes with a calmness I have never seen.

And as the sun rose, your eyes faded to black, and my breathing was the only rhythm to be heard.

You stayed until the light was high, rose, and took your leave- the one I never assumed to be as final as it has proven itself to be.

But still, I am whole.

And still, I wait.

Still, I sit breathless with the thought that you may return- carrying with you the missing pieces of yourself that you set out so quickly to find.

Still, I wonder and wander, hoping that my constant movements will bring you to my door again.

That once again I will be faced with the question or whether or not to open it.

But I know what my answer will be.

I have known all along the sound of every single answer I seek- save one:

I know why I let you in...

But I will always wonder what made you come.

Do you ever wish that you were wired for it? That you were one of the ones who were programmed to achieve it? I mean, we take what we're given and we're happy. And don't get me wrong, I am. At moments. At times. When my options are plenty and my cup is full. When I am surrounded. When it's my choice. When it's my call. When I embrace the fact that this is what I was designed to be. But then there are those moments when you're in silence, alone, and it feels like all the others have a someone to sit with. A someone to stare at. Someone who makes time move. Those are the ones who are built that way and you musn't forget. That what is theirs is not yours, but similarly, what is yours can now never be theirs. They have made their choice... if one can even call it such. They did what they were trained to do. And more than likely they're thinking the exact same thing you are... only on the other side. So really, what can be done? You always god with what you're given. You play with the hand you're dealt. There is no other option than that. It's what has been decided for you by forces you cannot begin to understand. For reasons you may never know. So all you can do is just continue on. Just keep doing what you know... the only thing you know... and search. Search, not until you've found the answers, but until you've run out of time. Because you never will. You will never find them. You were not made to. You were designed to own the questions alone... nothing more. You were programmed to move from one to the next to the next to the next and on and on and on until your efforts are exhausted. But do not give up hope for yours isn't the short end of the stick. It is rather the more wondrous path. Full of options, discovery, and feeling. Void of the illusion of safety and settlement. Defined by embrace and validated by wonder. Yours is the path of inclusion and beauty. So rest assured, wanderer, you shall be defined by something more. And though you may not ever finish, you shall discover... time and time again. You shall discover all that is kept secret and you shall learn to whisper it into the winds of change.

I feel as though I've been passed around one too many times.

In more ways than one.

Never settling.

Never settled.

And though it is what I yearn for in every single way...

It's what swallows me whole as well.

Where does the walking away end?

Where does the running stop?

Is there even a finish line to be seen?

I miss you, but I have no idea who you are anymore.

Or why silence makes me feel this way.

Water is rising and my head sinks beneath.

But the racing feeling it gives my heart has become addicting.

Among other things.

None of them good for me.

So they tell me.

So they tell me...

To stop.

Slow down.

Float above.

Come back.

Stay.

Leave.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I'm not even sure I know how to do that anymore.

Without you.

Who the hell are you, anyway?

I've made my choice.

And no, I'm not naive.

I'm thinking clearer than I ever have.

And I know that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It's just that I feel like you've become so clouded to me.

So wrapped up in other people's assumptions,

That I can't even see your outline through their fog.

I miss who I thought you were and

I miss who I've never known you are.

So, you have to understand that I have to do this.

I have to leave for a little while

Because I know that you won't.

You never will.

You've told me countless times and you always keep your word.

Don't you understand that I need this?

I just have to know.

I feel... but I have to know.

Just as I've always felt.

But that's just not good enough for me anymore.

I can't keep listening in the same way I always have.

I can't keep hearing only the things I'm told to hear.

I don't know anything that is true but you.

But I have to find out who that is.

Hands off the reigns, once and for all.

Just let me do what I do best...

and walk away.

Every singe way I feel right now...

The other night, my best friend gave me an incredibly beautiful reminder of why my life must be as it is, and why I wouldn't have it any other way- even when I want to give up.

She called me from a show that she was attending of a well-known and well-loved St. Louis band called Theodore, and held the phone for the entire set. Not only are the gentlemen in this band quite talented and accomplished musicians, but they are friends as well, and their music holds for me a strong, personal sense of nostalgia and is so close to my heart in many ways.

There are definitely obvious reasons for this, such as the fact that they hail from my hometown and remind me of all the people and places I have left behind there. Also, coupled with the fact that they have been friends and coworkers themselves, is the fact that my best friend lived with them for a period of time and is in a committed relationship with the drummer. She has been one of the most influential and inspiring people in my life thus far, so their music is a constant reminder of how much that friendship has meant to me and changed me for the better. But another, much more abstract reason for this sentimental connection, is because some of the greatest memories of my happiest times have also been at Theodore shows, and one in particular stands out to me.

Every year, in St. Louis, there is a one-day music festival of the best talent the local scene has to offer called the Riverfront Times Music Showcase. This past summer, the RFT was held the day before I was scheduled to leave to go to Thailand and I almost did not attend. At the last minute, I changed my mind and decided to go to a few of the shows that friends of mine would be playing. The last set of the night for me came from Theodore at the Vintage Vinyl on Delmar. In that crowded room filled with people, I remember a certain moment, as they began to play my favourite song, thinking to myself that everything, absolutely everything, was perfect.

I was surrounded my dearest and closest friends listening to wonderful band that I knew very well. I had just made amends of a fairly hurtful situation involving my old band, and remembered just how much I loved and cherished them as well. Not only was I standing with the people that knew me and loved me the most and best, but also with a certain boy by my side who, at that time, was winning over my heart. And all of this was mixed with the fact that I was getting ready to embark on an adventure that would take me to the other side of the world to see things I never had before. This was my scene, this was my city; these were my loved ones, these were my passions. This was my beautiful and wonderful life.

But as amazing as that feeling of contentment and perfection was, it was actually very short lived.

I think back on it and remember how fleeting it was and how though that moment was marked with the utmost happiness, it was also marked with something else as well. Something much deeper and darker that was bubbling under the surface of my soul. For weeks, I had been consumed with such giant fear and apprehension of not knowing what was going to happen to all of this that I loved so much while I was gone; or what would even happen to me once I got to where I was going.

Little did I know that my entire life was going to change.

In Thailand, nothing happened like I had planned that it would, and I am forever grateful for that. In Thailand, I discovered the depths of my heart and the roots of who I really am. And that change that I had feared and dreaded so much crept up on me ever so quietly after I returned and turned out to be much less terrifying that I had thought. And much more liberating than I could have dreamed. More than the change that had occurred around me, I found a change within myself as I began to burn for things that previously, I had not even the slightest bit understood. My heart broke and broke and broke when I was there, and after I left, something in my spirit tried as hard as it could to distract me and make me forget it- it was too painful to be committed to these things. I wanted that happiness back. I wanted that comfort back. I wanted that ignorance back.

But my fears could not cry louder than the burnings in my soul for long. For reasons that I don't know if I will ever be able to fully explain, I was jolted in the gentlest of ways and found myself in New York City. Here, the things I dreamed and imagined in Thailand, that I never could have seen coming in a thousand years at that Riverfront Times show, have started to come to fruition.

There are moments when I look back longingly at that night and at that life I had in St. Louis: friends, boyfriend, bands, shows, coffee dates, community, parties, little time to myself, constantly surrounded by others, being known- and sometimes it gets me down. Sometimes I regret that I don't have that in the same way anymore. Sometimes it makes me feel a strange sense of alone.

But those moments are few and far between if I am to be completely honest. I wouldn't trade the life I have now and the decisions I have made for anything. Even though it has been rough and trying, it has grown me in such necessary and beautiful ways. And this cause, that I hold so very deeply in my heart and is so much more than a "cause" to me is worth absolutely every ingle ounce of that sacrifice of that happiness I once had- because this, what I know now, is true TRUE joy. To see these captives one step closer to freedom. To see their liberation on the horizon. To see the dreams given to me by my God within reach of being realized. To be a part of this grand movement for the Kingdom and to feel so much love constantly swelling in my soul for the ones I know, and even the ones I don't yet- is worth EVERYTHING.

An even in the midst of the news I recently received- somehow, I have peace.

Chuai and Na, two of the women in my family in Thailand recently left their homes in the village to work in the bars. "Bars" is a polite Thai-sort-of-way to say brothels, because that's what they really are. Na is Prang's youngest sister and has a nine-month old son who is constantly in and out of being ill. Her phone is off and no one can reach her. On top of that, Prang has been in the hospital. She has blood in her ears, and has been very ill and very discouraged. They can't seem to figure out what's wrong.

My heart is so broken and I have hardly been able to think straight ever since I got that phone call. I don't know what to do other than pray, and I am grateful that even in that, I am not alone- THEY are not alone.

But it's just not right.

Nothing about this is right.

Nothing about this is okay.

It should never be this way for anyone... ever.

I know the numbers, I know the statistics, and yes they alone are enough to move me as it is, but this... this is different.

This is personal.

This is family.

I feel their hearts so strongly within mine and the fact that theirs are broken and hopeless devastates me to my core. And all I can do it wait. And hope. And pray. And work here as I wait to go back to them. They are family to me... and there are many, even here, who are family to someone. Somebody loves them, somebody misses them. Somebody needs them, somebody cares for them. And I will do whatever I can and give whatever I have in order to rescue them and help them to know that they are loved.

This is worth everything. They are worth everything. And it requires much change and much sacrifice on my part- change and sacrifice that I am finally ready to make. Everything in my life is going to look very different soon- the result of a year and a half of fighting and wrestling with the fact that what I felt I needed to do, I did not want to. What I felt I was asked to give, I did not want to. What I felt I was asked to leave behind, I did not want to. Jesus' words to the rich ruler (Luke 18:22) have been the words He has been whispering to me for a long time, but I was too afraid to listen. I was too enamored by my comforts, too enslaved by my possessions. But that sacrifice has become intrinsically linked to their freedom... and I will now no longer question. I will now no longer make excuses.

Change is coming.

Rescue is coming.

Kingdom is coming.

So as I write this and the sounds of Theodore fill my apartment again, I find myself in that same state of nostalgia. I think back on so many things and realize that though I had feared what I did not know was coming, I am glad that I did not know. If I had, I may have run away at what it had appeared to be; I may have been too frightened at how scary or trying it may have looked to me at the time. I would have missed the great upside-down beauty found in this life of broken-hearted sacrifice. So I am glad that I did not know. I am so very grateful and that I had no idea.

It has been the most liberating surprise of my entire life.

What then shall we say?

That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. For I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, "You shall not covet". But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. For apart from the law, sin lies dead. I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.

Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending His own son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, He condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

You, however, are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you.

So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are lead by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with out spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs- heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, grown inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

Likewise, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself interceded for us with groanings too deep for words. And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose. For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, in order that He might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom He predestined, He also called, and those whom He called, He also justified, and those whom He justified, He also glorified.

What the shall we say about these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own on but gave Him up for us all, how will he not also with Him graciously give us all things? Who shall ring and charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died- more than that, who was raised- who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered."

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Toady I:

Saw the sun rise

Ran 6 miles

Made a new friend

Attended a NYU law school forum on Sex Trafficking

Had tea with a dear friend

Sat next to a Hare Krishna in my Cornel West class

Ate homemade Korean food with friends

Watched a movie about a beautiful homosexual hippie preacher that loved Jesus and all people

Made more new friends

Talked about love

Reimagined the world

Couldn't stop smiling all day long

Thanks, Jesus.

You're really great.

(:

Experimentation time.

I know what I want.

I know what I am capable of.

Ready?

Go.