sweatshirts are the best kind of kleenex

with tears sliding down my face faster than the ice melting off our tin roofs, i stare at a ceramic plaque hanging in my bathroom that i made a few years back in maggie valley that reads faith. hope. LOVE. and i question why and what that really, truly means.

if the bible teaches us that love is greater than hope and faith even, then i'm left questioning why we aren't allowed to do just that? the bible teaches us that when two or more agree together in prayer, the Lord is in the midst of them (Matthew 18:19). that it is not good for man to be alone (Genesis 2:18) and God gave him a helper who is just right for him. that three things are eternal: faith, hope and love; and that the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:13).

i'll be the first to admit, that love is the greatest feeling i know. but why, right now, does it create the worst pain imaginable?

i see the biblical representation in us presenting our relationship to the lord as our sacrifice, as our offering to him to show our obedience and our commitment to lay anything down for him to pursue His perfect will. i get that. i even somehow have managed to agree with it. but i don't understand why we can't do this together, as one? why our relationship couldn't just continue to glorify the Lord and bring us together in His love?

and we say, its for personal growth. that we can grow obedient and open to God's call on our lives regardless of what an inconvenience that may be some times. but does growth only come from experiencing heart-wrenching pain? am i more apt to hear and seek the Lord when the hurt in my heart is so overwhelming that i can't do anything but sob, or hide the pain away where no one else has to see, experience, or hear about my misery?

there's no use in wallowing in my own self-pity, but when i can't talk about it, i can't cry about it, and i can't hold it in, i have to have a release. and right now, this serves that purpose.

please pray for Godly comfort over the wounds of my flesh. pray that i develop a Proverbs 3:5 mentality in which i can truly trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding. we often tend to overlook the following verse: seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.

i applaud james in following his conviction in making the immensely difficult decision to adhere to Proverbs 3:6. honestly, a man that loves the Lord and wants to be so totally open to His will is one of the most attractive and heavenly beautiful things one can witness. i'm proud to have loved this man, with such integrity and caliber. and i trust that if we truly trust Him and seek His will, that He will faithfully show us which path to take.

hepburn and indigestion.

growing up, i've always been pretty average. above average at best; but never excellent. i was a good student, boasting of mostly A's, save for two B's in college. i was always elected to student council and class cabinet and participated in a host of other extra-curricular's like cheerleading and soccer and yearbook. as i've grown, i've taken an interest to photography and cooking, sewing and writing.

i feel competent in most areas, even good at several of those things. i was just always elected to SGA, but not to a position. Was co-captain of cheerleading, but never captain. i can usually capture full flavor in preparing a meal, but there's always one thing thats off. i have an eye for a great photo and composition but i don't have the know-how in editing to really make it stand out as unique and professional. especially in my walk with the Lord, i can be so committed and dedicated for weeks at a time, and the next moment become lax and apathetic.

if there is one thing that i really feel like i excel at, something i truly can boast of in the Lord, is my ability to love. its what i do. it's what i've been created to do. it's what i've sought jesus on, and through his model, have imitated and perfected and sought so badly to give out christ-like love that it has almost become a flaw.

i'm in no way trying to toot my own horn (and if you feel that way, revisit the laundry list of things i'm only mediocre at). but the one very thing that i feel created to do, that i so strongly desire, that i actually feel good at, has been ripped out of the grasp of my delicate little fingers. if i've learned anything in my walk with the Lord, i feel like it is how to love: unconditionally, eternally, forgivingly, peacefully, and fully. i'm by no means perfect at this type of love. i only try my best to replicate the love Christ has for all of us. and, as audrey hepburn once said: "i was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it."

in my relationships, i learn to love, and forgive, and be patient. to serve, selflessly; to love, unconditionally. to give, to strive, to encourage, to edify. to affirm, to rejoice with, to make laugh and smile. i feel like i am able to be more of myself when i have someone to share that with.

and now that i'm without, it hurts, so so so very bad. i've got so much love inside of me that it wants to spill from my lips and seep through my sockets and flow from my fingers and burst from my chest. i want to nurture and care-for and serve whatever needs need to be met. its an aching, a yearning, to give my love away and have someone recognize my gift for doing such. to have that, and then to lose that, hurts my heart so much.

i feel like the one thing i'm good at, the one thing i do really well at, i'm no longer allowed to do.

i hate this, i'm not going to lie. it's more than a void of what was there. its a void in my soul of how i was created.

i won't lie; i've wondered if this is some sick joke that the Lord is playing on me. if my gift, is in fact a curse. why would God make me this way only to prevent me from being who i was created to be?

its hard to focus my attention elsewhere when so much of what i am tells me this is exactly who i was created to be, and the word tells me to be content in the way the Lord has created me.

please be praying that i don't begin to view my gift as a curse. i'm praying this is only temporary, and that the patience i cultivate in this season will not hinder, only further my ability to love. fully, without reserve, forever.

honesty is the best policy. unless you have USAA insurance.

as a girl, comparing ourselves to others comes just about as naturally as being emotional, developing an affinity for chocolate, or pairing the right shoes with the perfect dress. by comparison, we usual don't stack up to our competition, and often times, we use that as motivation, even if an ill-fitted practice, to be better or do better at something. i've often heard, and even repeated, that girls don't glam up when they go out to impress the guys; they do to outshine the girls. you're only as (insert superlative here) as the friends you keep doesn't really hold much weight when you're talking about self-image. and i speak beyond physical looks, height, weight, and dress. for girls, it goes much deeper.

everything around us has taught us that we aren't good enough. and, for starters, i hate the word enough. it implies that you're not only not reaching absolute perfection, but that you're barely, merely scraping by. it recommends the bare minimum, which in turn, only makes you feel like you've reached the same.

there's proactive, if you skin isn't clear enough. diet supplements for those whom can't lose enough on their own. ritzy wedding shows for those that don't have enough money to dream about. feel-good movies aimed at keeping one a hopelessly in love with the idea for those whose lives aren't romantic enough (guilty as charged; i watched confessions of a shopaholic, which suggests i don't shop nearly enough).

but by who's standards are we deemed good enough?

our friends? our families? the celebutantes parading across celebreality tv? to be honest, i don't think its the outside world judging us. i think we are most guilty, judging ourselves, based on what we judge in others. i find myself participating everytime i turn on the tv. okay, so i don't watch tv that much; but any media outlet. anytime i go to the mall; look at an ad on Express; any time i stalk through engagement/wedding/baby photos on facebook. she wore that? he's dating her? she lost how much?! i wish i was that tan. she's too blonde/tall/thin/annoying/photogenic/social/alive. I find that most of the time, i'm more or less comparing myself to what i see or experience. compared to half the people i know back home, i'm too old to not be married. looking at so-and-so's photos, i'm too big compared to my itty-bitty friends. i wish i had hair like the girl in that movie. i wish i had that love story. i want a british accent. bottom line: i'm not good enough.

unless were deaf and blind, it's a lie we've been fed from the time we started picking teams in elementary phys ed. i'm just not good enough (the way that i am).

but the truth is, we are. "for we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago." did you hear that? You are God's masterpiece. there is no mistake in our creation when the Lord has fashioned us as his masterpiece. each part of our creation is an explicit calculation for his plans in us. fortunately, as the Lord told samuel, although "people judge by outward appearance, the Lord looks at the heart."

when i struggled deeply with acne and depression a few years back, i was devastated. i couldn't understand why the Lord would allow me to go through such a dark and frustrating time. but looking back on email correspondence with christina, as i cried to her with raw, unabashed emotion, i see what the Lord has brought me through. although ugly, and mean, and vain, what an experience (as self-centered as it sounds) to endure. i love that we got to share in that pain together. what a wonderful friend; the encouragement and deep sympathy she offered.

i wish we would learn not to compare ourselves to others, or judge ourselves on the basis if we're good enough. i wish i would stop beating myself up over not having long enough hair, a pretty enough smile, smooth enough complexion, tan enough skin, a chic enough wardrobe, or a small enough waistline.

fortunately, jesus wasn't sacrificed for only those that are good enough to receive it. his life was given, he paid the price, for all of us-- the flawed included. Romans 5:7-10 reminds us that most people wouldn't be willing to do for an upright person, although someone might perhaps be willing to die for a person who is especially good. but God showed His great love for us and sent Jesus to die for all of us, sinners. i'm thankful that his love isn't exclusive to the righteous religious or those of us who have it figured out.

but that doesn't negate the fact that the majority of us, even if we are, have a hard time feeling beautiful.

Paul charges us in 1 peter 3:3-5 to focus on our inner beauty, as it is most pleasing to the Lord:

"Don't be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God. This is how the holy women of old made themselves beautiful."

i'm challenging myself to rest assured in my beauty and worth in the Lord. to flaunt my love and selflessness instead of prada or gucci. to carry my cross instead of a pricey, yet worthless handbag. to let my spirit and the glory of the Lord shine brighter than two-carats on my left hand.

afterall, "beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is worthy of praise." (Proverbs 31:30)

je ne sais pas.

in a society that has ushered in technology to encourage us to multitask on cell phones (i once deposited a check after checking my email, while using the restroom), there's not much time built in for slack. unlike the laid-back ways of siesta-practicing spaniards, the untimeliness that is south america, and even a throwback to mayberry, our culture has learned to do more, faster. we have torque converters to get us there quicker, with more power. microwaves to nuke our meals in less time than it takes to feed the dog. iphones so that, at virtually anytime, one can accomplish a number of tasks and errands, all while planning a schedule and ordering dinner online. we've taught ourselves that more is better: more school, more work, more pay. we pride ourselves on the number of items we are able to cross off our to-do lists. and if you're anything like me, you've even created a flow-chart of all the possible major-life-decision options your facing, with their corresponding arrows pointing to all the possible next steps. (okay, so maybe that was overkill).

overall, we're awake more than ever, we're going through more school than ever, to work more hours than ever, to make more money than ever, to buy a bigger house than ever, to never live in because we're too busy everywhere else. we have learned that being busy is not only a social norm, but it's the preferred way of life.

but by who's standards?

currently un-employed, post-grad, sans relationship-- i've discovered i have beaucoup de temps on my hands these days. and its unsettling. i've never learned to sit still; it's in our over-caffeinated blood to keep moving. i get cabin fever after only a few hours, and if i'm not out of town at least once a month, my feet get a terrible itch to run. i've learned balancing acts of social life, spiritual life, alone-time life, school-life, work-life and travel-life. i've become ambidextrous so i could simultaneously highlight and write marginal notes while working on my thesis. i miraculously made it through a semester of school, thesis, break-up part une, portfolio, praxis exams, and exit presentations without flaw (again: miraculously). but if there's one thing i never mastered (and there's far more than just one) it's that i haven't learned the value of stillness.

God finds the still rest both tranquil and necessary. when he created the earth, whether you're under the school of thought that believes in a literal 6-day time span or a more liberal interpretation, God took a day... to rest. If even God Himself needs a day of rest, how important might it be for us to take heed of His example?

we have learned to find our value in how much we can get accomplished by the end of the day, but have we ever learned to value how much the Lord can accomplish in us in our still, slow, quiet times?

for me, this current bout of forced stillness is tough because it goes against the brainwashing i've succumbed to all my life. but i think its about a whole lot more than my comfort.

as mentioned, in august i had my plate full. i can still remember that tuesday morning, driving to our on-campus in-service and crying out to the Lord. i did not know how i was going to make it through with everything that was on my plate. i knew before it even started that on my own, i would become overwhelmed and worn. so i didn't even attempt it without first calling on my heavenly father. little did i know the size of the burden i would bear until james and i broke up unexpectedly that evening. without that on my plate, i knew God would have to pull me through the semester; but staring that down the throat, i knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if i even made it through alive that all the glory would be His.

in light of the contrast of all that was going on, the pendulum has swung to the other extreme. i have nothing to take my mind off of this journey, nothing to place my focus on, aside from Him. i'm being forced into a game of limbo in which i don't have the strength or patience to play.

but if there's anything i've learned about my creator, whom has precisely placed the earth not a foot too near or far from the sun, at a perfect tilt to sustain life: he has it calculated. certainly, there is a point he is trying to make in this forced stillness. rest. be still. be quiet. slow down. fill your time with me. let me take care of the details. have i not been faithful?

(which in and of itself, is another blog topic; but i think i'll take the B train connection and then meet back up with my mainpoint).

last semester, in all its beautiful disaster, the Lord provided. strength. rest. contentment. i won't go as far to say happiness, at least not for the first few months. financially, the one i worry most about right now. i stopped working full-time last may, working 20 hours in just two over-night shifts during 40-hr school weeks in June, and just three days a week in july while making summer excursions every-other week. beginning in august, i interned full-time while finishing school, my thesis, and more portfolio work than i could have imagined. i didn't have time to work. then christmas came, and so did a two-week vacay home; followed by a week stint as a single mom, and 12 days in arkansas trying to sort out life. i haven't had a job in 6 months, and the Lord (with the help of USAA) faithfully provided for me in many unexpected, yet perfectly calculated ways. if there is one godly-characteristic that i heave learned more fully about the Lord in the past six months, it is faithfulness fulfilled.

i'm left questioning what it was i had missed in the midst of the chaos that ensued betwixt august and now. i'm left feeling like it was obviously something, because it seems as if God is like "well, i didn't reach you by taking care of it when you were uber busy; so i'll try another route, and force you to slow down."

its humbling. its embarrassing. its monotonously, painfully, awfully still. and yet, i must be still. God knew i couldn't do it on my own accord, so He seemed to make mafia-style arrangements so that He could be certain i would be still.

so now what? You've got my attention, Lord. the cries of the Psalmist both command and assure: "wait on the Lord. be strong, and take heart. and wait on the Lord," (NIV). The New Living Translation puts it a little different by encouraging us to "wait patiently for the Lord. be brave and courageous, yes, wait patiently for the Lord." both convey the same emphasis: we are to muster strength and courage as we wait patiently for the Lord to move; move us; move in us.

i've said it no less than five times already: this is so not easy. the last thing i want is this blog to be is a hoity-toity, holier-than-thou checklist of christian ideals as i master them. rather, i want it to convey the raw state of my heart. my stand-off with the lies of the devil. i wish i was patient. i wish i could say that my heart feels no pain because the grace of the Lord is sufficient enough that i'm fully satisfied in Him and Him alone. i'm striving for that, and Lord willing, I'll get there. but from the base of this mountain, the ascension is terrifying; i will climb with everything i've got. i may have to backtrack at crevices. i may never reach summit. but i will climb, because the Lord is both my motivator and motivation.

the psalms recollect prayers, songs, and cries to the lord, and being still appears to be a running theme through several of them. in psalm 47, we are reminded to "be still and know that I am God." researching translations of the meaning of the hebrew words used to make this declaration, the psalmist suggests our stillness as a surrender in order to know that the Lord is in control; encourages us to let go in order to recognize the saving power of the Lord in our lives (reference/translation taken from here).

i received an encouraging text last night that, too, out of psalms that reaffirmed that "not one person who waits for You will be disgraced" (Psalm 25:3, CSB). that's a comfort to know; especially in light of this really difficult time for me.

***

i wish i could have conveyed all of this more concisely, more precisely; perhaps i should've addressed in in 2 separate entries. unfortunately, my mind has trouble compartmentalizing thoughts. no, really?

blahhhhg.

at precisely 4:49 a.m., (that's latin for awake is a miracle) the morning news is dropped at the doorstep of many of the homeowners in our towne-home compound. how would one know this? for quite the same reason i know that Express sends out their exclusive emails at approximately 4:52. (they've added shoes and swimwear to their collection of must-haves that has recently turned into can't-haves-because-a-job-is-a-must have. but you can't penalize me for looking; after all, what else is there to do at 4:52

a.m.?)

at 4:45 a.m. and a feels-like of nineteen one can imagine that the world, apart from third-shifters, street cleaners, and the ungodly few that haven't yet called it a night, is in bed working through their REM. i, however, having just returned from braving the roads, the cold, and narcolepsy to shuttle the Schmicks to the airport, am crawling into bed more awake and alert than my less-than-healthy-amount-of-sleep body should be at a time nearly 5 hours prior to my biological alarm clock.

it's early, cold, and exhausting. but i couldn't let the parallels go without noting. i am only in the beginning of this journey. it's far to early for me to be completely aware of all this day has to offer me. and it is cold. i hate the cold. but i choose to live here, so it's sort of the really annoying friend that you put up with because she is terribly nice to you, and despite her downfalls, you still enjoy her the other 75% of the time. and i am exhausted. even in praying during my drive back i sent the abbreviated e-mail to God with a sunday school style petition for prayer request on His behalf. (hope i didn't short change the children in Haiti by not listing all their needs. i mean, he's God. if he doesn't know, then i certainly don't have a hope.)

what struck me (as that paragraph was quite the prime example of there's-a-purpose-to-this-at-least-in-my-head) as worth mentioning was that on this, somewhere between the second and third day, at an ungodly time and temperature, and for no issue of my own, i found myself praying. unprompted, and although partially begrudgingly, involuntarily praying. so maybe i wasn't able to do it in a cheerful spirit (note: cheerful spirits do NOT exist without the aid of caffeine until at least 8:30).

i know you're thinking, you woke me at a quarter of 5 to tell me you were praying?! and no, i don't want a cookie. i just love that this early, this early on, that was my body's natural response. it needs a lot of work, but clearly, i'm headed in the right direction.

and that direction is in between a fitted sheet, a blanket, and comforter.

mid-last-post, my good friend justin called me from back home with a story that just made me want to delete what i was already writing and start over on an entire different topic.

and then another came to mind.

so here is their resting ground. sort of like buying someone a graveyard plot, ya know, prior to their death.

proud. a good proud.

and still. a mean, horrible, awfully monotonous, yet necessary still.

so bigfoot walks into a bar...

leaving subbing orientation today left me, well, to be quite honest, lost. even though driving back to nashville felt as if i was driving home for nothing, i at least had orientation on my agenda. as i left, i realized i honestly had nothing to do. and no money to do it with. (this whole, not-having-a-job thing but still-having-my-bills thing totally cramps my typical "nothing-to-do" days of shopping, pedi's, or working out (canceled my gym membership to save money, too.).). [ i don't even know if that punctuation is legal. ]

passing through woodmont, i pondered what i would do once i got home. catch up on my lack of sleep from last night? no, i have an early morning and could use my exhaustion like ambien tonight. blog? no, because writing comes from, and leads to, great thoughts. and great thoughts comes from, and lead to spiritual epiphanies. and spiritual epiphanies, well those... they come from pain. and i was feeling good today. i did not want to do anything at all that would remotely remind me that i should be, and likely was in denial about being, in pain.

immediately, that brought me to prayer; knowing that this is going to be a daily battle. this is going to, has got to, become a daily sacrifice. my contentment with the moment is just that. its not happiness. and its not secure and permanent. it's contentment. mine. momentary.

God's word tells us in Luke (9:23) that we are to deny ourselves, to take up our cross daily and to follow Him. daily, i have to surrender all my fears, my burdens, my plans, even my contentment. i have to deny myself the satisfaction of trying to just get by or be happy. i have to bear my wounds, in all their vulnerable and unassuming glory. to put all my faith in the Lord, and regardless of my own selfish desire for contentment, happiness, or gosh, even just numbness, i have to trudge through the pain, following Jesus and trusting that in Him my confidence can be found. in Him, my faith finds meaning and is met with a response. in Him, my faith becomes more than just empty words. it becomes a walk, a mimicked example of how we should live like Christ and seek the Lord.

but God isn't some elusive sasquatch somewhere amongst the redwoods out west. he's not just a destination point we plug in to google maps and monitor the distance from here to there. it's funny; cos God is more than that, and all that is in between that at the same time. He is far to vast and outside of our comprehension level. but He is in every breath, every blink, every tear.

so how are we to seek something that is so obscure, yet so vast, simultaneously? i don't know. and i don't have a witty remark or non-sequitur analogy about bread or big foot to answer it. but i do know this. we are called to daily surrender and pursuit of the Lord. and today, i do that gracefully, peacefully. and pray that the Lord gives me strength and encouragement enough to do the same for tomorrow.

i guess epiphanies aren't fully contingent on pain after all.

bulimic, clincally depressed, skitzophrenic, and just plain crazy.

i'll get to updating the page in the right manor and working out all of that when it's not 12:40 in the morning and my mind isn't reciting all these words in a british accent as i type them. (which i'll address that in an additional update as well).

but i just need to write. a lot of times, i don't even know what is in my head, what thoughts i am suppressing until i allow them to flow out of the tips of my fingers, purging like a proverbial bulimic just trying to understand the why and how and meaning behind it all.

***

and there i was. standing amidst the pringles and fritos and cheetos and munchies. i was lost. i don't even eat that stuff. nor was i even hungry. but i found myself, ironically, lost in the snack aisle at quite possibly the most well-maintained gas station outside of west memphis en route back to nashville. the ambivalence of coming-to, of realizing where i was and that i had no clue what i was doing there, of what i was doing anywhere, was frightening. i realized that i was lost.

i tried to evade the imminent truth almost as nonchalantly as i managed to evade the trooper slightly before the 540 split in which i took the exit for 40 towards little rock. i jumped through hoops (like, eating at McDonalds, and staking out low-budget hotels for free wi-fi) to download the audiobook version of "Bergdorf Blondes" on my iPhone so that the drive would be more bearable; and perhaps, and escape from having to actually think during the 8+hour drive back. (Why i chose to hear instead about the failed love, and suicide attempts, of some undeserving trust fund upper-east-sider is beyond me).

but it all caught up to me there. and i had no where to turn, aside from the mountain dew and oreo cake dinner that my stomach will no doubt protest by morning.

i felt so empty. not need-sustenance-in-the-stomach type empty (clearly, from my choice of dinner), but empty, as in void of meaning. i wasn't wanted in arkansas. i wasn't needed in nashville. i was driving between two places that had just weeks ago both felt like home, and now, left me feeling shunned and to be quite honest, jaded.

newly a non-student for the first time since, oh, 1989. newly 25, which meant, newly closer to my ten-year reunion than to being legally allowed to purchase liquor. newly unemployed, which meant newly not-tied to nashville. and now, newly single. which apparently, the random combination of the aforementioned means newly into drowning your failures with a newly acquired hankering for gas station junk food.

***

after the equivalent of, well, to be quite honest, i don't know what it was the equivalent of, but it wasn't pretty. driving home, i lost it to the Lord. i yelled and cried and screamed and begged. i confessed, i doubted, i confronted. and then, i was still. i wish i could say that in the stillness i heard His voice. i wish i could say that in any of it i heard His voice. but i didn't. instead, i'm left wondering if i'm putting words in His mouth. if i find what suits my heart, and i slap quotes around it and a tagline with God's name on it. is that doubt? or is that what modern thinkers call 'being realistic'? (seriously, this all sounds brilliant in my head. but it is very likely that it is just the British accent talking, and not at all the words that are being said).

***

i saw this vision. okay, maybe it wasn't a vision like in King David days or whatev. it was more of a concept, that i just, like, understood. it was kind of like a curved load of bread. think, half-circle-meets-rope ( i suppose some people refer to that as the letter C ). this was our (james' and i) offering to the Lord. and it represented our relationship (which, is naturally brilliant that the symbol used for our relationship is food. duh.). we were bringing this to the alter, or table, or gosh, even the receptionist, of the Lord. this is what we have, to give. this, is what we have to give. note the emphasis on each. when the Lord asked Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac, whom Abraham loved and cherished deeply, he still wanted to please and obey the Lord. So he brought Isaac to the altar, believing with "pure and simple faith that if this is what God was telling him to do now, this was surely the right thing to do" (quoted from the highly-credible wikipedia). when the Lord saw his obedience as he prepared to kill his own child for the Lord, He stepped in, and said:

Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.

[ see. the bulimia. its happening. when i write, things make sense. praise the Lord for creating me that way. because i saw part of this in the drive. but the Abraham parallel totes came out of HS thin air and landed front. and. center. God is good. esp for the way he reveals His truth and comfort and understanding to me. PRAISE HIM!]

abraham was thrilled to have a child in his late life. isaac was a fulfillment of a promise to abraham from the Lord. there's no doubt in my mind that abraham knew the potential his child held for his future, and that he loved him deeply. but, he loved the Lord first and foremost.

so, back at stage right, Abraham has built this altar and placed his beloved son upon it. brought him to the Lord in obedience and is prepared to lay him down at his feet. and God says: now i know that you fear (or obedience, that grows from faith) God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.

so many things: first, the parallel. replace the word son with something it is that you love dearly; that you feel was a direct answer to a prayer, a fulfillment of a promise from the Lord; e.g.: our relationship. gah. the vastness of the LORD! we are not the first that have had to lay something we love down. (PS the bulimia is like diarrhea, and can't be stopped; and it kinda goes everywhere and gets really messy, too. and, you can't just stop it cause you're tired, and its 1:46, and you've got a really big day of orientation tomorrow morning. case and point:) God's been there before. we're not the only ones. its required of all of us, really. abraham wound up blessed beyond belief, and his obedience was so pleasing to God that he became, like, THE Godfather to the nation of Israel.

so back to the 'c' shaped bread. here we are, giving it to the Lord. (PRAISE HIM, now the recitation is like, in totes val-gal style and no longer the faaar to serious tone of Ms. Brit!) That is what God is calling us too. he wants our bread. and not like he doesn't have enough of his own bread; but if we are going to have our bread, he needs to know that we are willing to give it up to Him first. and that if he chooses to bless it and give it back to us, then totes AWES! but should he not choose to do so, it was only ours to offer Him in the first place. the bread, our relationship, is our sacrifice, our Isaac.

maybe its the mountain dew. or the fact i'm exhausted. or maybe i'm just terrified to go to sleep in my own bed, alone, without a soul here, for the first time in over a month and a half. but connections are being made in my head left and right. i'm researching the original hebrew of the bible and comparing translations for the word "fear", for really, no good reason, aside from i'm excited about what God is showing me in thus, my first of many, miserable, miserable nights.

***

my room smells of febreeze; and i'm not at all opposed to it. it reminds me of italy, and is rather delightful, although i'm a little perplexed as to where indeed it is coming from.

again, it all sounds better with a british accent. re-read it in one, and you're likely to have a chuckle and agree. and i'm likely to receive a referral to a shrink.

***