Irrationally Happy

I can’t help but feel like the older I get, the more irrational I get. That is a little backwards, right? But is “irrational” the word I’m looking for? I mean on the surface, it would seem right to label it irrational, but something deep inside of me says it’s not irrational, it’s pure. God, listen to me! “Something deep inside of me!?” That’s just embarrassing…to sound so hopelessly romantic!

I get extremely stressed out about money, and the future, and all the novelty of my life of late, and then I spend money on the things I want, and I make huge, ambitious plans, and I jump in head first into the sea of new things in my life…because I decide that I deserve happiness…that I only have one life to live…that I probably will die in debt, so why not live with what I want?

 

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Time Mocks Us

Either we try in desperation to clutch our dream at the last by deluding ourselves with some tawdry substitute; or , having waited the best part of our lives, we find the substitute time mocks us with too shabby to accept.

-Eugene O'Neil, From the New York Tribune, February 13, 1921

O’Neil is a playwright from the Modern period. I like him. He said, “The theatre to me is life—the substance and interpretation of life” (From an Interview with Oliver M. Sayler).

It’s kind of interesting that I took a course in Modern drama this semester with everything that has occurred lately. I never really cared for the Modern genre until I found myself suddenly and forcefully transported into the psychological situations of Modern characters. I don’t think I would appreciate O’Neil’s (as well as the other modern playwrights’) work like I have if I didn’t experience what I have this semester. I definitely would not have understood this testimony of his: “I’m always, always trying to interpret Life in terms of lives, never just lives in terms of character. I’m always acutely conscious of the Force behind—Fate, God, our biological past creating our present, whatever one calls it—Mystery certainly—and of the one eternal tragedy of Man in his glorious, self-destructive struggle to make the Force express him instead of being, as animal is , an infinitesimal incident in its expression” (From A Letter to Arthur Hobson Quinn).

It amazes me that I can identify with all that la-te-da up there. I have been wondering a lot lately if this happens to everyone at some point in their lives. Everything just starts to make really scary sense. Something clicks one day…or everything you had goes down the drain, whatever…but nonetheless something does click, and your entire reality becomes absolutely surreal. I  have had chronic nausea trying to get my head around what life is lately. The conclusion: you don’t end up saving yourself, you just understand yourself.

I Think I’m Thinking

There is just no turning back now.

Have you ever got an idea in your head that eats you alive until you fulfill it? I’m getting to that point.

I can accept that the person I have been for the past month has been a product of the grandiose changes in my life, but I’m not going to let anyone tell me that I don’t know what I’m doing or understand what I’m thinking because of those changes-because of this “hard time” I’m going through. Irrationality is common after break-ups, I know; and I can admit that I have made some irrational choices lately, but I don’t think every bit of my thoughts and actions are entirely irrational.

In fact, I think that I am thinking for the first time in my life. I know that probably makes no sense; maybe none of this post makes sense, but I just have to admit this: I was living life so conventionally. I read the Bible and sang hymns in a Southern Baptist church; I graduated high school with honors; I went to a four year university in my home state; I dated my high school sweetheart for all my young adult years

…. and I expected to have a ring on my finger within the next year, a job that is relevant to what I busted my rear studying for the past four years, and eventually a family and house of my own.

And all that is changed. I know, I know; you can still have that, Amber. You’re going to find someone who deserves you and gives you all that and more. Here’s the thing, I don’t know how much I want that anymore. I have a friend that refers to this as the “cookie-cutter lifestyle”. I guess because it’s been done before and can be done again no matter how many batches of dough are thrown on the table; of course, the domestic implications probably have something to do with the reference too. I’m not saying that I don’t want a husband, or a job, or a family and house one day! I’m just realizing how much of that “American dream” I was seeping into with all my life assumptions. I don’t have to have that right now. Heck, maybe I don’t even have to have that. Maybe. I’m also not criticizing anyone who wants this pattern of life; there is absolutely nothing wrong with it if it’s what makes you happy. But I don’t know if that’s what is going to make me happy. In fact, I think the thing that will make me happy is finding out what will make me happy.

I completely enjoyed my time over Thanksgiving break with my family-I love those people with every piece of my heart, but every time I go home (and I mean to my hometown, more than just my house) I get an annoying, itching nerve to get out. For awhile, I thought, it’s just hard right now being around all the memories made around here  (I’m mostly referring to the ones I made with Jon), and it will get easier as time goes on. And though it is true that it will probably get easier to be in those places and see those faces, I don’t think the urge to get out of Mississippi is going anywhere.

Would it be terrible to explore some wilderness? To travel? To work a few different jobs? To meet a whole lot of people, and people that don’t exactly think and feel like I do?

Earth and Sky

Earth and sky, woods and fields, lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea, are excellent schoolmasters, and teach some of us more than we can ever learn from books.

-John Lubbock

One word. Walden.

Lately, I have not been able to shake the desire to get out there in the well, “out there”. How do I talk about this without sounding like a hippie? Maybe, I can’t. So, I will risk sounding like a peace and love kind of gal (without the whole being stoned thing, of course), to say I want to drink in all the Mother Nature I can! When I’m “out there” I just look around and think about God. I think this is for us. We’re in our cities with our made-to-order commodities all the time and we think that is natural. But I breathe in unpolluted mountain air and I know that I’m where I belong. Oh, I know I sound whimsical and that if I had to rough it more than a few weeks, I would probably miss my bed and running water. But you see, that’s the problem: I know that would happen.

 

I’m not going to pretend that the circumstances in my life have left me with nothing but independence to pursue. Well, that’s not entirely true; I could also pursue a death grip on anything and anyone that ever so crossed my path. And that would be so easy to do in my vulnerable state, but no I refuse. You only get so many opportunities in life to become the person you truly want to be before you’re so buried in conveniences and comforts. I want to be able to take care of myself no. matter. what. If you haven’t noticed, I’m talking on a few different levels now, but nevertheless I truly believe that spending time out in nature, depending on the raw elements for survival allows one to do the same individualistically-depend on their own raw elements.

I just wonder: What am I made of?

That may be a struggle to truly discover. Maybe even a fight. And when it comes to that, it’s best to…

{All photos via this pinboard}

It’s Going to be Alright

Hey there, Reader-Friends!

These are hard times.

I don’t know if others have noticed, but it seems that I’m not the only soul in this world having a hard time lately. One of my very best friends has been having some life trials, my daddy is having some issues healing from his recent surgery, and I have even noticed that lately, there are many ladies in the blogosphere writing about an increase in anxieties. And of course, the American heat wave of the century doesn’t improve anyone’s mood! Amen?

If you  have been reading for awhile, you probably know that I am currently experiencing an attitude adjustment, and if you are new to my blog then now you know too! It’s good. Hard. And good. Anyway, God has been filling my hands full with verses of instruction for the heart makeover I requested.

 

Here is one that I hope cheers up the reader that feels like she/he currently has nothing going right:

When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.

Psalm 94:18,19

 

This is how I understand the verse above in the context of our “nothing-is-going-right” times of life:

“My foot slips”= I’m on my way to the ground. I’m about to fall on my tail and it’s going to suuuuuck!

“…your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up”= The ever present love of Christ caught my arm! The gentlemen He is!

“When the cares of my heart are many”= When I’m stressed way, way out…

“your consolations cheer my soul.”= The Holy Spirit within me speaks the oh so needed to be heard words: “Everything will be okay.” I find rest and shelter from the storm in the arms of the Lord and a motivation to keep going in his word.

If you have had the thought that nothing is going right; if you are so stressed that you feel like you are about to break; or if you feel alone and that you don’t have anyone that truly cares about you, reflect on this very certain truth:

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Chin up ladies and gentlemen! It’s going to be alright.

Authentic

Well Happy Monday, Reader-Friends!

{Yeah, I did just use “happy” and “Monday” in the same phrase; in very close proximity even! Sorry, Negative Nancys!}

If I can say that with two upcoming tests back to back tomorrow, then you can too!

My sweet friend, Nicole is doing a challenge in order to find 1,000 things to be thankful for and it’s got me in a positive frame of mind. Thanks, Nicole! Check her page out. You just might want to get involved!

 

I just want to say: church was good yesterday. I learned a lot in life group and service. God’s convicting hand was upon my heart and I have taken a few brave steps of spirituality  personally today because of it. There are a multitude of things God has brought to my attention that I would love to share, but this is just one little post and honestly, I’m not quite ready to share yet. I will make this confession, though: I have not spent any kind of quality time with my savior this summer. The quantity of our times together has even lacked tremendously.

I’m not going to lie, that was hard to put out there. Some of you may be rolling your eyes. But some of you may completely get this: we don’t want people, especially other Christians, to know that our relationship with God is suffering. And though some of you have written this post off as boring and left, some of you are still here, and I appreciate your presence, because you are my witnesses. Blogging has become more than a fun hobby. It’s a tool of accountability. I don’t know if this is how it is for all bloggers, but I know for me, I feel like I have a responsibility to live up to the person I present on this page. In my mind, the world can see me on here, and though I may, and probably will never meet 99% of the people that somehow end up on my page at some point, I feel it a moral responsibility to be honest and authentic.

So, sincerely, here’s to honesty. Here’s to humanity. Here’s to the grace of God’s open arms when we decide to turn back around and face him.

“Return to me,” declares the Lord Almighty, “and I will return to you!”

-Zechariah 1:3

Peaceful Pieces

Hey Reader-Friends!

Do you like putting together puzzles? During the winter, when I ‘m wrapped in a Snuggy by the fire and have hot coco in hand, (wishing it was Christmas now, huh? me too!) I tend to think it’s a good idea. The only problem is: I completely and utterly suck at puzzles!

I don’t have the patience for them, they make my vision blur, and if you do get it put together, you just have to put it away in a jumbled mess again.

Puzzles, however, do happen to serve as a great life metaphor.

I always have these kind of thoughts when I go for runs and walks…

Life is SO like one giant jigsaw puzzle. You start with the most obvious pieces-the corners. They pretty much seem like they are just given to you; it seems like there are some circumstances in life that are like that too. For me, it was my wonderful parents and general situation in life. I know everyone’s corners look different…Some puzzles (see where you can insert “life” here?) are rough around the edges.Yet, don’t give up because a corner is chipped or missing because there can still be a beautiful picture in the middle.

I know one thing that helps with puzzle piecing, especially when you are frustrated with the picture not looking perfect or can’t get the pieces to fit just right (maybe the problem is you can’t find that one piece): it’s walking away for some fresh air. You need to get out of that hunched over position. You have to wipe off that scowl and stop pouring over getting the puzzle complete before you live another instant.

Here’s the thing: one day you will be going about your business and you might pass the puzzle…and with one glance…THERE it is! the missing puzzle piece is right in front of you or two pieces that wouldn’t mesh before slide together like easy-peasy!

**You all know I’m not really talking about puzzles, right?**

And every puzzle has a picture! Here’s a little bit of what mine looks like:

Here’s the really outstanding part about all this! I’m coming to terms with not understanding some things in life, because I’m trusting that all will be made known in the end. Ah, faith. Such a complex thing.

I’ve tried so hard to put together my puzzle…I’m learning to take my time.

In addition, I’ve tried so hard to be a put together puzzle before God, but oh my, have I failed. Frustration to no end. I have thrown myself against the wall, shattering into the  million pieces I started out with. And as I pondered this whole life thing on my run the other day, a song I didn’t even realize I had came on my iPod began to play. The lyrics are my anthem right now:

I'm here again
A thousand miles away from you
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard
Thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way
Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole
I've come undone
But you make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in your hand,
Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole!
I tried so hard! So hard!
I tried so hard!
Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole
So you can make me whole

-Red

Patiently and Peacefully in Pieces,

Amber Marie

Painted Red

**My Internet is down, Reader-Friends :( I'm posting this from the boyfriend's parent's house, but when it decides to work again, I will be catching up with all of your wonderful posts! Here's one I have been trying to post for days.**

I was sitting outside when my attention was drawn to the trees in my yard. My family moved into this house when I was on the late side of four years old.  There are a few particular trees that we planted ourselves and a few that were just babies when we got here. Sixteen years later, they are huge, and full, and just gorgeously vibrant with summer green. It’s happened more than once, but I just gaze at these wonders and ask myself: when did that happen?

I start looking at my house too. We live in a very pretty wooded little neighborhood. Everyone has their own little piece of land; there is community, yet privacy. Mama reflects on coming out to Hernando to view the house for sale. As she and daddy drove past cute home after cute home, the anticipation built inside her heart…and then collapsed. The guy selling the house was going through a divorce and totally let the house go. The yard was terribly groomed and there was an awful yellow color on the house that matched the barn in the back yard. Don’t get me started on the cancer infecting the interior of the house. Anyway, Mama’s magic hands have touched almost every inch of this little estate over the years-piece by piece, because we are very middle class people. The yard got some curb appeal, the barn is a bright red and the house is brick with a crisp white accent, and every room has had an update. Well, almost every room. The laundry room still has that hideous seventy’s tile that used to cascade into the kitchen and violently clash with the green and yellow plaid walls (which have been rescued by warm coat of red paint).  I’m kind of glad it’s still in that little room that no one pays much attention to, though. It’s a subtle reminder of how far this house has come. How ugly became beauty, falling apart house became warm and cozy home. When did that happen?

I just can’t come to terms with my age. I know everyone over twenty one is laughing because that sounds like such a mid-life-crisis statement, but I don’t mean it like that. I just mean when did I become a big girl? When did I start getting bills and thinking about where I’m going to get a job outside of serving food?

And I have been devoutly following Christ for nine years. And I have blossomed and matured in that department…and all of a sudden, when did that happen? Lately, I have been spending a lot of time in the laundry room. I mean that figuratively, of course. I have been noticing corners of, well, me that have some décor of the old me. Are you following this extravagant metaphor? It is okay if you’re not…most of you probably quit reading this nonsensical post paragraphs ago.

Anyway…

Seeing parts of the old me, hanging out in those rooms has made me think about where I came from…who spruced me up-made me beautiful-invested in me. Is there a point to all this jibberish? Not really. Just want to say I’m thankful for a Savior, for who he has made me, and for those who were apart of this whole growing process. AND I want to say that even though I have come such a long way, been painted with crimson just like those kitchen walls, I feel like I just took my first breath. I’m lost, completely uncertain of some things, and don’t want to be whimsical. I’m such a mess, people! A big messy pile of sin, oh and I do believe in God, and I do try to follow Jesus. But I just got to be honest, this estate, though you may think some rooms are pretty appealing, are still works in progress.

Well, that doesn’t look any more organized in print than it did in my head.

Blogging my Battles and Blessings,

Amber Marie