tainted veins,
of purple and blue
colliding together,
a distinguishing hue.
a blindspot.
too dark to tell where it
starts or where it ends.
cold and damp
set apart from the
beckoning warmth
of a Father's love,
twisted in lies,
tortured by deception,
the love-child of a wayward,
imagination--
the Abyss.
it's a well crafted illusion,
by the one who wages destruction,
whose wrath rages against
the ones who pray,
they become his prey.
blissfully ignorant sheep,
struck blind by the void left
by immortality and shame.
the truth of everlasting love,
pushed far into peripheral sight,
tricks the heart and poisons the mind,
to only see the Abyss, to become lost
in the blackhole created by the one
who seeks to devastate humanity.
the Abyss,
a figment of one's imagination,
a dark place that exists in limbo,
is conquered by the truth
that
it
isn't
really
there.
31.5.10
24.5.10
foggy brain.
yesterday's hair, irish cream and my paint-it-yourself mug and a poem:
foggy brain,foggy brain,
makes everything like static.
caffeine is the only recommended cure.
also, the hope of summer, that draws nigh
with every exasperated sigh,also, the hope of summer, that draws nigh
as i study
for my
last final
of the
year.
goodbye.
23.5.10
22.5.10
Εμπιστοσύνη
"Therefore, let those also who suffer according to the will of God entrust their souls to a faithful Creator in doing what is right."
read.
read.
20.5.10
For reminiscing, among other things...
original song by Linell Catalan (2006) and major kudos to a dear friend, Elise Berg, who helped me pen the lyrics.
I had long hair!!! I wrote this song last easter (April 2009). Both of these songs were byproducts of seasons of trial in my life. I've discovered that meaningful songs tend to flow out more naturally when I really need something real and less confusing to cling to.
Blessings y'all.
18.5.10
Long Beach and idioms.
Once upon a time, Long Beach and I were like ambivalent lovers, with more animosity between us than either of us realized. But slowly, Long Beach has wooed me (thanks in part to the new church that I started attending in February) and caused me to see its beauty amidst the graffiti, the ghetto, the railroad tracks and stark white, graffitied industrial buildings in the ghetto. So here I am, sitting in a Starbucks on the corner of Atlantic and San Antonio Drive, blogging about this new found reconciliation. I mean, I also plan on doing homework, too. But first things first.Also, I'd like to mention the strange fellow sitting in one of the leather comfy chairs a few feet from me. I found myself a small round table in a corner and as I sit here and type, I can't help but notice the jutting movements of this strange fellow's head as he attempts to inconspicuously sneak looks in my direction. And I realized that I may sound a little conceited. I'm not. Though I do like to point out the obvious. It's kind of ridiculous. Part of me wants to go over there to tell him to cut it out. "Excuse me, can you please stop being creepy? Its making me uncomfortable."
On a completely different note: If you didn't know this about me, I have a hard time keeping my idioms straight. I'm not sure why this is the case, but part of me wants to blame my filipino heritage and growing up with parents, who also, in their best efforts, cannot say American idioms right. For example, when my mother, bless her precious little heart, was pseudo-lecturing me about skirting certain issues regarding friendships, etc, she told me to "stop beating the bushes."
Oh dear.
Anyway, today, I realized that I had forgotten to do an assignment that was due today and when I realized this, I decided to talk to my professor to (a) beg for forgivness and (b) see if I can turn it in later. As I was explaining to her that it had completely slipped my mind because of my ever growing list of things to do as I try to balance work, school and life, I said "Sorry Professor Dixon, but I feel like a chicken running around without my head on!"
For the life of me, I still can't really remember how to say that particular idiom. I'm sure someone out there will help me out.
Happy Tuesday!
15.5.10
God in(and) me(you).
“In this [salvation] you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” 1 Peter 1:6-7
The more I think about my life these past 5 years, the more I'm convinced that the length of time spent in journaling, serving in various churches/ministries or reading/memorizing the bible is not comparable to the the quality of my relationship with God. I am learning that before everything else, my personal relationship with God should matter the most. What good is all the things that I do, if I don't trust that God actually cares about me, that He delights in me, that His love for me is not contingent about things I do or don't do (See Psalm 103)? Not that that sort of trust will always be perfect, because it probably never will, but there needs to be an undercurrent of willingness to think on these things, if not all of the time, then most of the time. The drive to love others, to serve others, comes from this undercurrent of trust. To love and to serve is to draw from an inward love that cannot help but spread to those in proximity.
If I have to tell it myself over and over again, then I will. My heart knows it is true, but my head tends to rebel against truth time and time again. My brain knows that it's a vulnerable, delightful and unnerving thing to express myself freely before God. To know that whatever I need to say, I can say it to Him. To be aware of the flaws that I have hidden, even from myself, and trusting that in Christ, God has forgiven me of all sins, past, present and future (See Psalm 139). I must remind myself that God welcomes me into His presence with open arms. That His unconditional love is unique to His divine character and only He has the capacity to love me perfectly.
It's a daunting, unimaginable thing to consider--God has the capacity to have a deep, loving relationship with anyone and everyone who seeks after Him, those whose hearts yearn for something much deeper than human beings, or anything else, in this world can offer. That is what a relationship with Christ has to offer--it's not merely "fire insurance" that saves people from Hell, but it is a constant reminder that we are not alone in this world. In the moments when we feel unworthy, ugly, lonely or depressed, those who know Christ can know a deep love and forgiveness that has no limits. Those who know Christ can know that there is justice and hope for the oppressed. Those who know Christ can know that there is redemption and freedom from darkness.
The more I think about my life these past 5 years, the more I'm convinced that the length of time spent in journaling, serving in various churches/ministries or reading/memorizing the bible is not comparable to the the quality of my relationship with God. I am learning that before everything else, my personal relationship with God should matter the most. What good is all the things that I do, if I don't trust that God actually cares about me, that He delights in me, that His love for me is not contingent about things I do or don't do (See Psalm 103)? Not that that sort of trust will always be perfect, because it probably never will, but there needs to be an undercurrent of willingness to think on these things, if not all of the time, then most of the time. The drive to love others, to serve others, comes from this undercurrent of trust. To love and to serve is to draw from an inward love that cannot help but spread to those in proximity.
If I have to tell it myself over and over again, then I will. My heart knows it is true, but my head tends to rebel against truth time and time again. My brain knows that it's a vulnerable, delightful and unnerving thing to express myself freely before God. To know that whatever I need to say, I can say it to Him. To be aware of the flaws that I have hidden, even from myself, and trusting that in Christ, God has forgiven me of all sins, past, present and future (See Psalm 139). I must remind myself that God welcomes me into His presence with open arms. That His unconditional love is unique to His divine character and only He has the capacity to love me perfectly.
It's a daunting, unimaginable thing to consider--God has the capacity to have a deep, loving relationship with anyone and everyone who seeks after Him, those whose hearts yearn for something much deeper than human beings, or anything else, in this world can offer. That is what a relationship with Christ has to offer--it's not merely "fire insurance" that saves people from Hell, but it is a constant reminder that we are not alone in this world. In the moments when we feel unworthy, ugly, lonely or depressed, those who know Christ can know a deep love and forgiveness that has no limits. Those who know Christ can know that there is justice and hope for the oppressed. Those who know Christ can know that there is redemption and freedom from darkness.
10.5.10
Imagination
by B. Dillon:
I need to be reminded
of who I was
when I took the first steps out the door.
All I've said
now follows me around
I'm reminded...
I'm not like that anymore.
I uprooted...
and miles behind me are the
faces of
who
I left.
You've brought to my attention--
I've slowly changed. Becoming
who I wanted
to
stop.
But isn't that like, a finite mind,
setting out, with such righteous indignation?
Now, I'm at your feet, could you look at me with some
imagination.
A bush before me.
I slipped my sandals off...
I've only stopped, to look.
In the depths of the sea, in the midst of a great sound.
I run, I run...
to You.
Oh, isn't it just like, a finite mind,
setting out, with such righteous
indignation?
Now I'm at your feet, could you look
at me
with some imagination?
Remind me...
why you woke me up
and why you wake me up every
morning.
The staff in my hands,
held in by your love...
just stay close,
stay close.
Cause I know, I know my own mind--
why I set out with righteous indignation.
When I'm at your feet, please...
Please...
look at me
[with some imagination.]
6.5.10
22
if words could be put in more than graceful arrangements
and if feelings could be aligned in disarraignment
if things were to make sense between absurdity and doubt
there would be less things in life to figure out
if the mind could find ways to implode
so as not to reveal all that needs to be told--
epiphones become daily euphamisms
of a life seemingly lived in dualism
if ambiguity was an art, she’d be the master
she would muster up questions that remain unanswered
abstract thinking would become the norm
for if home is where the heart is,
maybe she isn’t quite home.
and if feelings could be aligned in disarraignment
if things were to make sense between absurdity and doubt
there would be less things in life to figure out
if the mind could find ways to implode
so as not to reveal all that needs to be told--
epiphones become daily euphamisms
of a life seemingly lived in dualism
if ambiguity was an art, she’d be the master
she would muster up questions that remain unanswered
abstract thinking would become the norm
for if home is where the heart is,
maybe she isn’t quite home.
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