|
cali_lass126
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Emilie
Country: United States
State: California
Birthday: 7/31/1982
Gender: Female
Interests: Theatre, wilderness, the world and the unknown, political nonsense and miscellaneous rubish
Expertise: "Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps. . . perhaps. . .love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath." ~L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea.
Expertise? Knowing that what is hidden will come to light and that acts of love are often unseen
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  Onemoredawn126
Member Since:
2/28/2005
|
|
| Worn ... tired... an exhaustion that seeps in depressingly in the midst of the busy hectic mess that at moments becomes my life. But my life is more than the stress, my purpose more than the tasks at hand. For I am yes what I do, but perhaps more so how I do those very same tasks, how I prepare for the dreams and things I hope for, and how I love those around me in the midst of that.
So why so often do I define myself by things that should never determine who I am or am becoming?
Why do I let others and outside things influence when they should not?
How do I define myself in the midst of all this... how do I find who I am in all the noise and busy slush of life?
short to say, I am tired and exhausted of it all at times
| | |
| There are pains in life that others feel they know or understand... pains that they explain away as oversensitivity or perhaps something that I have done wrong to bring about such a pain. I discovered as of recently a very harsh and deep pain that plagued my very capacities. While I was told of things I should or should not have done, while I was told that it was nothing, while I was told a lot of rather unhelpful things ... I realized as I starred awkwardly into the mirror that maybe this pain, in all of its hot cold sensitivity, maybe this pain in its intensity and sharp numbing-ness was not a pain from what I had done at all but rather from what had been lost. As I glanced ever nearer it became all too clear... yes... I was definitely missing one of last years fillings. It was in that moment that something else stirred. It is in the pain that I realized what had been lost. It was in the missing that I realized what I had. | | |
| The song plays... sweet, plesant and even playful... the day comes to a close, the computer on, and the music plays. Such wonderful and amazing days followed by such Mondays. The music plays and my heart just aches against the music that should lift... tears. And yet... where am I rooted? Where do I come to rest ? Where is the home and place of refudge for my heart? For it is not in the struggle, not in the ache, not in the bliss nor in the days beginning or end, but in something far greater and yet seemingly alusive... The song goes on, the mind meanders on... home has become more foreign than I would have wished, and the foreign becomes a more welcoming home as the days pass on. My heart.. now there is a precarious cosa... the Lord draws ever nearer, bringing His daughter close... songs continue to play, days continue in their passing ways, something deeper grows, something more constant and yet so seeminly alusive... here I am papa... play on... bring me those Mondays, those tearful days, bring me those Sundays and blissful events, bring me the sweet and harsh, bring it all if in you I may finally find that place of rest... that place I call home. | | |
| She didn't notice it at first. In the flow and passing days, these thoughts and feelings were not given much attention. But in their growing neglect the sadness seeped in. At first a homesick thought or two, a stressed moment met in the quiet solitude that echoes thunderously of what we least wish to hear. The sadness grew... and out of the darkness of night tears poured and an aching heart broke amidst a dark embrace. Things have been hard of late. Plans have formed to return home after this June. Part of me cannot wait to return, and part of me, in the heart of hearts can not bare to say this goodbye. It begins in words unspoken, in the slow preparation and yet such trepidation. The announcement will not be made till I return from spring break, then the reality will be unavoidable and painfully harsh. Somehow, amidst much pain and agony this forsaken city has become home. Its streets and customs do not plague my walk anymore but have become normal. I am frightened at the prospect of returning home, for the change is great, and I do not want to return to what I was, nor do I wish to remain what I am. All to say, the path starts here and your prayers are so very much appreciated. | | |
| It seems these months and weeks have had their storms, and I find myself in the midst of one now... how he leads in their midst, how he calms the hearts of man in the midst of these storms, strengthens us in the midst of weakness and hears our cries against the thunder. Could he have brought me so far for a second chance? Could he be leading onward to even greater storms I am now prepared to face? And are these battles not worth the fight? Are these storms, tears, and hardships not worth the prescience of his love and calling in the midst of them? | | |
|
