humanity. accept the frame of your being. embrace the grace that is God within you, and there you might find peace. Because we know how weak we are. We're often scared to admit it. We try to build up empires, conquering places, making wars and filling pieces of paper that prove a piece of property as belonging to us. It never does. We have so little... yet the temporal sense holds us together in a way we probably take for granted. It keeps us united.
I know I'm going to be flawed! I am flawed!
Accept!
Change the things that you can, leave the things you cannot, have the wisdom to know the difference.
I would rather be flawed together, falling together now, than alone.
Together we fall now. Together we fly forever if we embrace the God in us.
Lately it's more clear to me than ever that the only one I have to make proud is God. If I can fulfill his smile, my happiness unfolds a thousand times. It's such a simple gift of joy! And yet, giving into my human weakness can take it away from me! We pretend that shying away from God is sufficient. It is not. It balls up and tears our soul down from the inside out.
To make Him smile.
I pray for grace in all my mistakes.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Strutting In Nothing/Everything
Arabella Street, or at least the part stretching from Magazine to St. Charles, is indeed an interesting stretch of pavement. The stories mostly found crumbled, I'm sure, in the unusually bland cemetery across from a very charming grocery store. Along this walk, I chose to investigate the grocery store, the persona of a family-run local market called Langenstein's. It packed a lot of the good stuff - including local ice creams, which upon catching my eye made me completely forget about checking whether or not they had the yogurt variety that Winn Dixie so graciously and expensively offers. Something about groceries, especially small ones, is very comforting to me. Knowing that there is indeed a little niche of the world that always restocks my favorite and potential favorite foodies, even if I cannot actually cook or bake them, puts my overworking mind at rest. Perhaps this is due to my emotional eating tendency, but if it is, at least that's one nice release about loving to eat. It gives back like that.
The houses ascended to greater heights and even more massive hedges as I approached St. Charles from Magazine. The streets were in true Uptown fashion, up and down with the roots of the oaks. I spotted a magnificent spider web stretching from a palm tree to another overgrowing yard, and it seemed miraculous how such a fragile sheet of silk could survive to become the size of a full grown pumpkin! Even with the rain!
Oh the rain. The rain deters but does not dictate where I go. I ran straight across Tulane's campus from Willow to my dorm, becoming completely drenched, leaving my backpack open, yet miraculously finding my laptop to be completely dry. The other night, upon an evening flood, the rain stopped and the moon glowed out and the lightning flashed more than I had ever experienced in a single night. The whips of light were incessant; I felt eerily small trudging through the small rivers created on Freret and the academic quad. Umbrella overhead, snow boots (that double as my rain boots) afoot, and the strange, fluctuating sky that I felt was more comforting than threatening guiding my way. Three flights of stairs and class was cancelled for the fifth time, but I still felt better for braving the foreign land.
Still wishing that I could be excited about being where I am. I resist every environment I come into. Part of that was answered by Sophie Ward, who always seems to reach out into my heart and pull out the words that it needs to read. The changing bits of life are what make us frustrated and relieved, and striving for finding an ultimate place to establish peace is almost too ridiculous, for we always look to a new place even once we've settled. But perhaps that is just my youth feeling this need to get out. To get out get out get out I crave it.
I crave it.
Yet let me know that the journey is just as important as the destination.
The houses ascended to greater heights and even more massive hedges as I approached St. Charles from Magazine. The streets were in true Uptown fashion, up and down with the roots of the oaks. I spotted a magnificent spider web stretching from a palm tree to another overgrowing yard, and it seemed miraculous how such a fragile sheet of silk could survive to become the size of a full grown pumpkin! Even with the rain!
Oh the rain. The rain deters but does not dictate where I go. I ran straight across Tulane's campus from Willow to my dorm, becoming completely drenched, leaving my backpack open, yet miraculously finding my laptop to be completely dry. The other night, upon an evening flood, the rain stopped and the moon glowed out and the lightning flashed more than I had ever experienced in a single night. The whips of light were incessant; I felt eerily small trudging through the small rivers created on Freret and the academic quad. Umbrella overhead, snow boots (that double as my rain boots) afoot, and the strange, fluctuating sky that I felt was more comforting than threatening guiding my way. Three flights of stairs and class was cancelled for the fifth time, but I still felt better for braving the foreign land.
Still wishing that I could be excited about being where I am. I resist every environment I come into. Part of that was answered by Sophie Ward, who always seems to reach out into my heart and pull out the words that it needs to read. The changing bits of life are what make us frustrated and relieved, and striving for finding an ultimate place to establish peace is almost too ridiculous, for we always look to a new place even once we've settled. But perhaps that is just my youth feeling this need to get out. To get out get out get out I crave it.
I crave it.
Yet let me know that the journey is just as important as the destination.
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