Inconsistency

We inconsitently cried out for consistency~

I think I'm just going to accept the fact that I cannot regularly blog, and can only blog when I have thoughts about important things. Facebook is for the unimportant, this blog for the important. And here are my important thoughts of the day and of just lately in general, because none of my thoughts occur randomly. They're a clear series that build on one another. Except maybe the title of this blog. That could very well be completely random.

So, this morning, I had in a worship CD, and the song, "Everything is Beautiful" came on. I haven't wrestled with the words of this song like I have, "Praise You in the Storm," by Casting Crowns. But the point of both is very similar. When we're in our dark places, God is still there, God is still good, and God is still loving.

These have not been easy things for me to learn. By any means. I spent a year of my life believing that God didn't love me. Not that I didn't think God was loving, I just arrogantly proclaimed myself a special case. People could testify of God's great love in their life and I would think, "Well, that's great for you, but it's not my life, doesn't mean anything to me, because God still doesn't love me."

This is an incredibly foolish way to think, I see now, but it was how I really felt at the time. So things like praising God in the midst of trouble, or finding comfort in God when I hurt were very foreign to me.

That was a year ago.

I've learned better now. Painfully, I've learned better. My year of bitterness was healed by a single moment of divine intervention. Well, God slowly softened my heart with the gospels, slowly, and then there was a single moment of epiphany where I heard his voice clearly say, "I've never stopped telling you I love you." And I felt a large rush of love within me, a movement in my very soul I'd never known before, and I knew that God loved me.

That, however, is just the background. The real story is a year after that healing.

I've been up and down in my life, been through hard times and high times. I've never felt unloved, though, no matter how upset I've been at God. So, while I still struggle and wrestle with praising God in the midst of a raging storm, I'm beginning to see how everything is beautiful, even when the tears are falling.

Sometimes, I just miss her. It happens. I just get hit, like the wind's been knocked out of me, and I want to stop whatever I'm doing, sit down, and just cry for a few minutes. But I can't always do that. I can't sit down in the middle of the mall when I'm out with my friends, and we've been having a good time, and just start crying. I have to keep walking, keep laughing, and move on to the next store.

But sometimes, sometimes I can just stop. I spent the other night in the Rose of Sharon chapel. It was just after dinner, and I got hit with that loneliness again. I didn't want to go and face my roommate with this feeling inside me, so instead I walked into the chapel. It was empty, which was good for me, and I just broke down crying, but instead of just feeling sad and missing her, I decided to pour my heart out to God. And in the end, I felt a lot better.

Giving my burdens to God is something I flat out suck at. I'm the sort who takes everything on myself. It's just my personality. So when I cry because I miss her, because I'll never see her again, I'm learning how to pour that out to God, and how to receive comfort in God. God won't reach down and fix my situation. He won't ressurrect her. At least, I'm pretty sure, 6 months after she's dead, she's not coming back. So, I'm learning what it means to seek God in hurt, to find comfort in someone who I know has the power to fix my situation, but won't because of His better judgement. It's not easy.

So, while I'm still learning what it means to praise God in the storm, I'm beginning to understand beauty in the broken. I'm beginning to see that God is still God, still just and loving and merciful and trustworthy even when I hurt. I'm beginning to see him as a comforter and someone I can turn to as a Father. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting there.

Letters

Last night I wrote you a letter, wondering if you'd ever even read it. When I fell asleep with the pen in hand, ink smeared across my cheek, I dreamed that I handed you the letter in person. I dreamed you handed me one back. We laughed at how we had written each other a letter the same night. Then I woke up. I wiped the ink off my face. I slipped the paper into the envelope and addressed it. I don't want to wait anxiously for a reply. I don't expect a reply. And somehow, even though I haven't even stamped the letter, I hope desperately something's waiting for me in my mailbox.

[//sorry for no posts. I'm... a horrible person. and a busy college student. and work's been a PAIN. i'd rant about my manager but that's not very professional of me. And I love her. She's just been totally NOT on top of things this week. blah.]