Friday, January 21, 2011

Beautiful Ruins

Life.
Life is fear.
Life is strength, but at the same time weakness.
It is love, but it is also understanding.
We let it waste away, walk away, deny its existence until one day we wake up
                                                                                                                              not content.
not content with relationships.
with lovers,
                  friends,
                              ourselves,
                                                God.
We find ourselves in ruin, unable to live. to breathe. to cope.
Then we struggle. we fight. we cry. we hurt. and we crawl back to whatever we know is solid.
We pray.
We long.
We pray some more.
We pick up that bible that has been collecting dust,
and we sit.
in silence...


and in that moment in time, we know it's going to be okay.
that it's not the end of the world if we lose love
or if we screw up.
it's part of life,
existence.
We know with transformation comes aching,
breaking,
and growing.
Like a dandelion pushing through concrete,
We surprise ourselves.
We blossom into someone new,
someone totally unrecognizable to everyone,
                                                                       but ourselves.
we long for new beginnings without finishing the ones we have already started.
it is human nature.
simple as that.
with the hurt and ruin comes life. new life. brand new, innocent life.
And with that life comes the possibility of more ruin we know will happen.
such is life.
life is ruin.
life is love.
life is fear.
life is beginnings.
life is too-soon endings.
life is transformation.
life is catastrophy.
but above all else,


life is imperfection.
life is beauty.

"It feels like a precious wound, a heartbreak you won't let go of because it hurts too good. We all want things to stay the same. Settle for living in misery because we're afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked at around to this place, at the chaos it has endured - the way it has been adapted, burned, pillaged and found a way to build itself back up again. And I was reassured, maybe my life hasn't been so chaotic, it's just the world that is, and the real trap is getting attached to any of it. Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation." 
-Eat Pray Love

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Jesus ♥


I found Jesus at age 17, although technically I was “saved” at age 7. In the church it is not uncommon to be saved at such a young age, but for me my life was not altered. There’s not much sin in a 7-year-olds life, other than the occasional spurt of greed for the latest toy or pushing a boy down on the playground because he was cute. The only change I knew is that I had been baptized by my granddad and my family was happy for me. Do not get me wrong, I understood what salvation was, but I did not understand how much it was supposed to alter your life as I do now. After my salvation life went on, school years passed, and I began growing into the person I am now. When it comes to my relationship with God; it has been a bumpy, and rather rough ride, but without that ride I would not be who I am today: a sinner saved by God’s grace.

This rough ride began when I was in the 8th grade. My Grandfather was diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease) in 2004. During his struggle with this unstoppable disease I began to question God. I had always been taught God was a good God who would never let anything bad happen, so I could not understand why he was letting the Grandfather I loved dearly deteriorate and die before my eyes. I could not understand why my cries for healing were not heard. It seemed like all of my prayers were just bouncing off the sky one by one, like balloons that couldn’t escape the ozone. These struggles continued for two years until a day I will never forget. It was a day in November, the sun was shining and the sky was the bluest I have ever remembered seeing it. We got a phone call that morning, bringing the news my Grandfather had died. I remember that that was the first time I had ever seen my daddy cry. Later I would learn that my Grandfather had committed suicide.

That was the breaking point. I started to doubt God’s existence. I couldn’t understand why God would let him die; let him take his own life.  From then on I went through the motions of being a Christian. I became a pro at wearing the mask at church to please my parents. During this time I had hardened my heart; it became a muscle encased in steel so thick I believed would keep God out. Little did I know it did nothing but make it easier for him to get in.
On a mission trip to Cherokee, North Carolina during the summer of 2010 I had my “spiritual revelation” I guess you could say. I felt God, raw and powerful, and he came when I needed him most.  I had hit rock bottom. I didn’t know where to run but I knew that there were only two options: to run back to my Abba, my Father God, or to run into the arms of worldly desires that had failed me time and time again. As the worship band played a song titled “The Reason” by Hoobastank I realized just how much my past choices had broken the heart of the only One I could trust, the only One I needed.  This song is not necessarily a Christian song; it is actually recorded by a secular band; but if you take it into context as a sinner talking to God it takes on a whole new meaning. The part that touched my heart is as follows: “I'm not a perfect person/There's many things I wish I didn't do/But I continue learning/I never meant to do those things to you/And so I have to say before I go/That I just want you to know//I've found a reason for me/To change who I used to be/A reason to start over new/And the reason is you…”  
            I sat there, and cried. I finally understood everything that had happened to me in those six years. I saw why all the pain and tears were worth it, and I began to see that God is going to use me for something much bigger than myself. This is the only moment in my life I remember with perfect clarity. I remember looking up to the stars that dotted that black abyss above the North Carolina mountains with tears streaming down my face and praying to God over and over again for forgiveness, grace, mercy, and love to pour over me and make me into a new being. At that moment in time, I understood what Paul meant when he wrote: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” in Galatians 2:20. That night I died, and Christ became the ruler of my body, my soul, my mind.
Ever since that night my relationship with my Savior has only grown and morphed. He never ceases to fail me with his beauty and grace. My life is for His glory. His inspiration shows through my artwork, music, and writing. Glimpses of Him show through in every part of my life. I cannot get enough of my Savior’s love. He is the driving force behind my heartbeat and if I was a marionette he would be my Puppeteer. There is a section of verses I have discovered while reading my Bible that I believe God had shown me for a reason. These verses are the epitome of my life. They describe God’s mercy on me perfectly. These words were also written by the apostle Paul in the book of 1 Timothy chapter 1 verses 15-17: “15 Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 16 But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. 17 Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.”