24 May 2009

Dear you

I so despise my passions sometimes. I care so much that I hurt so passionately when others do. I may seem like a passive person at first, but I am known to fly off on you. I will probably hurt you, as forewarning.
I am an instrument, though I often find myself trying to control how I am used. Super woman I am not, though I pretend and love to play dress-up in clothes that do not fit or belong to this mortal balloon of bones.

I question my passions and how much I care. I am also known to not text or call for a little while to make sure I'm not annoying you. I constantly question my actions over and over. I don't want them to be wrong or hurtful. In doing this, I often stumble over my untied shoelaces and find myself face to face with a self destruct button. Don't relieve the pressure or you will surely blow to pieces.

It's hard for me to say the same thing to someone that I've said to someone else, because I'm scared that person will think less of my words because they aren't original. In all actuality, I probably mean it more the second time around than the first. I've learned my lesson.

I wish I could change words - change their significance. I would love to deaden the blow of harsh words that I never meant to say, but I would also love to heighten the emotions you feel when I tell you "I love you." While those words have become such customary baggage in this day and age, with each breath I take, those words take on a more heightened, precious, eloquent, reverent meaning. Telling you that, I'm sure, means nothing. Words are but words and nothing more. No amount of vocal or typographical emphasis will bring any new life to this everyday language we use. Adjectives can help if you have an imagination...and I promise you I have the most captivating imagination.

Dear Father, I pray for a rain down on this beautiful love, a rain of peace and understanding; of patience and trust. It is so hard to trust in this world where our hearts are constantly thrown at a batter with something much sharper than a bat. "Come stop your crying, it will be alright." I know it hurts you more than you are willing to say. How could something so dear not prove an incredible source of pain and confusion? Satan will take us at our weakness. Unfortunately mine is easily found and as raw as these words. I speak of hurt and pain, and yet here I bear my soul to you. Every drop of blood in me is known to you. You are well acquainted with my every nerve and know exactly which will drive me to a happy insanity in your midst.
Lord, peace...only your peace. The peace of an ocean washing away the impurities of the sand, sifting through the grains and taking with it only what does not belong...Father, this peace is nothing compared to the rain you so willingly exude. Your peace is one that will let go of the biggest insecurities and highest heights. All fear is lost in the blowing of the wind. All senses avail you to the utmost. To describe these goosebumps in your presence would be plausible only in eternity.
Father God, with a battered heart we fall at your feet. Your timing is not ours and often we are impatient. Never do we understand; no, not once. Our minds are like that of a toddler. Every time we see your face we are just as excited as the first time. Falling only hurts. We can never understand. Dear Jesus, precious lover of my soul, give us understanding and patience for what you have in store for us. How can we, creations of the Almighty, dare make plans or firm decisions concerning our lives beyond our belief in you? Doing so is only climbing a mountain with no escape from the peak but a sharp cliff and imminent fall.
Adonai, push us to new heights and new confidence shrouded in your beautiful, everlasting arms. Cloak us in nothing but You - the best of all there was, is, will be. Father, give us faith to believe, to grasp hold of your promises and never let go. Father, if we are in you, you will give us the desires of our hearts. This longing is not hear for a reason. Dear Jesus, these dreams and thoughts and heartsongs are not in vain, but rather fit in your will. Show us your way. Mend the busted seams of these hearts.

i love you,

"turn around" - josh wilson
"by your side" - tenth avenue north

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