October 8, 2009

Yes, I see the huge gap between entries. There are tons of quotes in my journal; just none of my own words... Maybe it's all in the worship guides? I know this entry certainly morphed into one:]

What does it mean to be authentic? What does authenticity look like? If we throw terminology around indiscriminately, we end up lost in a semantic labyrinth. C.S. Lewis says – Behave as if what you believe is true, and the reality will follow, sink in. That prayer offered in the state of dryness is most pleasing to God. Is that not fake? Pretending?

Peterson says in Traveling Light that we are so easily swayed by what others think/say about us that we quickly fall into the trap of trying to live by someone else's script, guidelines, code. How does relinquishing all control to Jesus somehow free us up to be who we are truly meant to be?

It seems a hopeless dichotomy, syllogism. In short, it sounds impossible. But "incomprehensible" is NOT the same as impossible. And to take something on faith does not in any way imply shutting off your brain and allowing someone (whether big S or small s) to control you like some automaton. If that's the kind of creature God had in mind, why in heaven or on earth would He have given us free will? Look at all the horrors that has caused. But you have to see the Big Picture. It was so important for us to have a shot at true freedom and authenticity that God's only Son had to die to reclaim that gift for us. Imagine what refusing that gift must feel like to Him. He delights in our authenticity, because He created us to be who we are, and living anything less (any smaller) than that is stepping outside His plan.

September 11, 2009

Not awake yet, but making the effort to get up and read and pray w/ Christian and the kids at 6:30 each morning. And Scout's learning to enjoy playing in the garden. Chiropractor soon...

September 7, 2009

Brain marginally less cluttered today. Progress (of a sort) is being made. Thank you, God.

This past week sucked, but I've decided (or am trying to decide?) that maybe, just maybe, it's not a case of my getting worse, regressing, sliding back into the muck. PERHAPS I'm just letting go of the act of hiding the mess. Maybe if it all comes to the surface, the ugliness and pain and hurt will finally begin to leach away. And Christian has been pushing me pretty hard. ["Stretching," he euphemistically calls it :-).] And I suppose I haven't broken (at least not entirely) yet. I feel empty, and nauseous, but have managed to get the words "I love you" past my defenses a couple of times, and it hasn't killed me. I can't go home, and that hasn't killed me either. Does that mean there's hope?

September 2, 2009

No sleep last night.
Stressed, stressed, stressed. All these logistics about my house, utilities, etc. that Christian wants me to change... it all seems entirely overwhelming. I'm shaking on the inside, and most likely frustrating Christian to death with what appears to be intransigence, but is mostly simple fear. How can I learn to trust? Where is this elusive peace I've been promised as a child of God? Why can I not handle even the most fundamental aspects of my life without freaking out? And how am I meant to survive two weeks of cruise ship dry dock in Freeport feeling like THIS?!?

Fourth trimester resolution (since I've striving, once again, to start fresh): Completing this journal by the end of 2009. Not mandatorially writing every day, or just filling space, but finding enough to dredge out of my soul to say something on a regular basis, even if lacking in consistent profundity...

September 1, 2009

A new month.
A new school year.
A new beginning.
Fresh resolutions.
New hope.
Here's to lasting change. I can change. I am loved. I am accepted. I am beginning to belong. To this family, to this church, to this community. God is here. God is working. I have to trust that this is real, that this is true. It's not all going to collapse around my ears.

August 31, 2009

I was just going through all the vacation photos – Beartooths, Big Horn, Missouri River – and realized that, at long last, I finally feel like part of the family. Which is good, since Marilyn, Christian and I just agreed that we're extending this living arrangement at least til the end of the year (4 month intervals). That freaks me out significantly less than it used to.

I'm getting a BIG red flag though, 'cause I can't seem to write. It's all cluttered inside my head, and I can feel myself curling up inside. I can't pray; I can't look at the future without fear and panic. God, help!

August 20, 2009

The rising sun is just now hitting the hills on the far shore of the river, as I sit in the Stevens' cagin on the Big Horn, on vacation with the Cryder's.

I've missed a big chunk. Through chance and struggle and God, I ended up going backpacking with Christian, Malachi, and Rebekah. With no preparation or planning. Sorry for the lack of warning for my extended disappearance, Scout!

Not sure why I feel so reluctant to get this back up to date. It's as if putting it on paper will somehow make it less real, or pollute the purity of the memories. I had a great time in the Beartooths. Unbelievable. Indescribable. Now I sit here with Jack as the family sleeps on.

Detail soon, but first, here are the questions I'm supposed to answer: How do I see myself spiritually, a year ago, and today? What has God been doing? And, what would it look like for Marilyn and I to be 'intentional' (Christian loves that word) about becoming closer friends?

I find I possess very little in the way of vocabulary to answer such questions. I may have to rephrase, and even then I don't believe I can answer them with any degree of clarity or assurance...

My brain is overflowing. Which (counterintuitively) makes me want to commit to paper nothing at all. Because that means I'll have to deal with it. And contrary to what Christian says (and believes) with such conviction, just getting it all out there does not, by the very act, make it better. Yes, spilling my guts on Mike and Clarice's "treehouse deck" made it better for him, helped him understand what was going on and (maybe) what he can do to help, or at least not exacerbate the problems, but it made me feel like crap. For the rest of the day, at least. Particularly since he insisted on continuing to poke the sore spot the entire drive from Billings to Hardin. I know he's just trying to help, but... Again, why is the need for a quiet day so unacceptable?

[And now I'm skipping my boring factual recap of our fabulous Beartooths adventures...]