Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

his supercalifragilisticexpialidocious vision

what do you think the vision is for your life?

sure, make it through high school.
collage, jobs, kids, marriages.

but beyond that...
what do you think God's vision for your life is?


I know what my vision for my life is.
I graduate high school with perfect grades, before heading off to a conservatory to study dance performance.
I'll live in a perfectly, Pinterest-y dorm room and have lots of friends.
While I'm there, some visiting important-person will say I'm amazingly talented and ask me to come dance on Broadway.
I'll move and dance in lots of Broadway shows, while getting married to my incredibly hot husband.
We'll have a few Jesus-loving kids and live happily ever after.

but God's vision?
err, not really sure on that one.

right now I'm struggling with some hard people that love malice and gossip.
they deliberately hurt in order to deal with their own hurt.
they seek conflict instead of peace and humility, simply because it's easier.
and.
it's.
so.
painfully hard.

because where is God in this?
where is justice?
what's the next right thing?

the prophet Habakkuk asked God the same thing.
in chapter one, Habakkuk is complaining to God about the evilness of the world. 
he asks, "How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?" [Habakkuk 1:2]

and God answers him saying, 

"Look at the nations and watch-
    and be utterly amazed.
For I am going to do something in your days
    that you would not believe
    even if you were told."

Habakkuk responds with a second complaint;

"Your eyes are too pure to look on evil;
    you cannot tolerate wrongdoing.
Why then do you tolerate the treacherous?
    Why are you silent while the wicked
    swallow up those more righteous than themselves?"


and agian, God answers saying;

“Write down the vision I am giving you.
    Write it clearly on the tablets you use.
Then a messenger can read it
    and run to announce it.
The vision I give you
    waits for the time I have appointed.
It speaks about what is going to happen.
    And all of it will come true.
It might take a while.
    But wait for it.
You can be sure it will come.
    It will happen when I want it to. 

whhhhaaaaaaaaaatttttttttt?!?!?!?

friends, His vision for your life is more amazing than you could ever imagine!
it's bigger than high school and Broadway and hot husbands.
it's SO SO SO SO AMAZING!

and all he asks of us is to wait.
to listen.
to write and read about his goodness.

today, I challenge you to stop.
to look through your journals,
read your old blog posts
think through your life.
see God's faithfulness.
see the beginning of his vision.

and know.
know that it's just that;
the beginning of an utterly amazing vision.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

empty drafts



this draft is empty,
and because can't think of words.

but then i think
how authentic
an empty page is


Sunday, March 26, 2017

don't be a victim [thoughts on love/attention neediness]


Sometimes we sit and watch other people take attention.
They take take take.
And usually it's justified,
but sometimes it's not.

Nerveless, we watch.
And sometimes, I want/need some of that love too.
So I silently begin to feel hurt.
I harbor resentment on why no-one reads my mind.
Why no one-cares enough to give me love and attention.

But that's exactly it-
people aren't mind readers.
Your friends are all psychologists,
analyzing your every finger twitch,

So please, let's stop being victims.
Stop watching
and being sad
and feeling hurt and alone.

Stand up, you strong and valuable woman,
For you are absolutely worthy of love and attention-
your heavenly father hears your every ache.
You are loved.
You are valuable.
And you are absolutely not alone.
  

Monday, October 17, 2016

blur


A very close friend committed suicide two weeks ago.
Two weeks that contained years, yet I still have to remind myself of the horror that took place.

You guys, I am completely shattered.
My heart is broken, and I'm semi-numb to reality.

This is a mess.
A tragic, dark mess.

I'm struggling to form words, much less coherent thoughts.
I have a pile of school work glaring at me.
I keep waking up throughout the night.
I keep glancing and thinking I see her.

Her dutch braids.
Plaid shirt.
Kaiki pants.
Eyelashes that make you rethink your life.
Smile that lets up the room.

But then I remember her perfect body laying in the casket.

And the reality punches all over again.

You guys, we are shadows here on earth.
Your life contains infinite value.
So.
Much.
Value.

You are precious.
Important.

And there are far
far
far
better things ahead.

xoxoxo

Saturday, July 30, 2016

sitting in this weird thing called silence

Silence breathes on my tired face.
My head hurts from the previous days of sleep deprivation due to early mornings and little quiet.

The mission trip was amazing and powerful, yet I'm not ready to form words. 
Jayna's visit was a total blast, but far to short. 
It's scary that I might not see her until we're both in collage. 
I'm not ready for our friendship to go back into a screen. 

I lay in the quiet, not sure where to begin.
So I ask God to gently unpack me. 
Unpack my emotion,
My memories,
My guilt. 
To sort through this with Him, that it may bring Him glory. 

I don't know what to think or feel or do or say. 
Yet in this quiet, I know to listen.
Listen to His whisper saying, "Rest in me. Feel with me. And do not fear; for you can do all things through me, who strengthens you."


Thursday, March 10, 2016

When All Time Stands Still



It was a grey car ride. Melancholy filled my lungs as I sat in my pink pants and tunic shirt, staring out the window. It was mostly quiet, for no one really wanted to say anything. As we approached the Seattle, my mom began putting words together. Filling us in on what to expect. “...this is probably it…I think Abbie, Ralph and Cathy might be there...think about anything you want to say…” As we walked briskly up into that little house, my legs brushed the lavender bushes I had spend hours trimming with kitchen scissors. Making sachets. Dread hung in the should-be-cheerful, yellow living room. The kitchen chairs were pulled out in order that we could squeeze. I ate a lot of teriyaki food in those chairs. My Grandma came out from the bedroom wiping a tear. Her daughter, whom she had spent 43 years caring for, was dying. Years spent in doctors offices, conferences for parents with children with special needs, staying up at night. The official diagnosis was Rett Syndrome. My aunt was the longest survivor, the first in America to be diagnosed. Us Weisz women like attention. But not that day. The second I walked in a felt like I needed to leave. My body felt like it was being crushed by a encompassing weight. I sat stiffly, with my ever present ballerina posture, staring blankly at the petite brown recliner. I made her throw pillows to match that chair. I came home from the drugstore armed with nail polish and gave her the best pedicure. As everyone made small talk about who-knows-what, I simply sat. Clenching every muscle subconsciously. Us girls left to grab some lunch. The oxygen felt good. And we returned armed with smoothies. I still remember what I ordered at Jamba Juice. Shuffling into the should-be-cheerful, yellow living room, I sat again. And then, I went in. We went in. 
Into that tiny little bedroom, I stood. I didn’t know what to do or say, or even if I should say anything. I remember running my hands through her hair. Rachel taking a picture or two. My daddy standing against the wall, talking about his sister. I don’t know how long it was. I don’t remember if I said anything. I don’t remember if I kissed her forehead, or said, “I love you.” I don’t remember. Finding myself out in the living room, my brain in complete standstill and all emotion frigid. Then they asked if I wanted to go in again, one last time. Say goodbye. And in that moment, all of the heaviness and sorrow collapsing in around my heart, I lost the battle. I said no. I found myself sitting in the hard, wooden pews at Westside Presbyterian Church just over a week later. Thinking about what I had to say about my aunt and the impact she had on me. In the moment a choose not to tell her those things, whether I needed to say one last goodbye to the woman who told me so much without ever opening her mouth. That day I choose to keep quiet about the impact of a beautiful soul. 
And today, will I lose that opportunity again? 

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

the other side of the screen


I sit here curled up in a ball.
Yoga pants and a sweatshirt cover my leotard and tights. 
I stare at this blank page, this blank post.

how do i use my voice? 

One of my goals for 2016 was to be more real. To display the complete package .
Some will view it as a beautiful wrapped present, and others will view it as a crumpled package on the floor. 
It scares me slightly. 

But I also know I long to see the imperfections of others. 
I want to know I'm not alone in my weakness and failures. 
My soul craves the naked truth of the gospel. 

grace.

 I don't try to act like someone I'm not. 
but
I am an A student. 
I am a extrovert (for the most part) and have a inclusive personality. 
I am responsible. 
I volunteer.
I communicate well. 
I avoid conflict.

I also think negatively about people.
I am a gossip. 
I make judgments about people based of their appearance. 
I over commit myself. 

What draws me to people? 
Honesty. 
A sense of 'realness'.
Inclusiveness. 


To be vulnerable, I have to risk facing your judgments of me.
And at some point, that cripples me. 
I need people to like me. 
My blog is designed to show you something you want to read. 
I want you to like my pictures, my writing, heck, even my fonts. 

But are you gaining anything of value from my font? 
Are you going to walk away from your side of the computer screen feeling relationship? 
Feeling you can relate?  

is this stupid? 

I want real.
I want truth.
I want the funny embarrassing stories. 

That's why I tell you about when I peed my paints on a hike. 
That's why I tell you about my nutcracker withdraw sympotoms
It's why I love awkward and awesome.


So I sit, curled up in my safe and cozy chair. Contemplating hitting the publish button.
My cocoon of quietness pushes me to take advantage of this rare moment. 

but will I?

Saturday, February 13, 2016

39 thoughts



  1. uhhh, why am I so tried 
  2. oh right, I didn't really sleep last night
  3. I am always in a perpetual state of tiredness
  4. like whenever anyone asks me how I am, I'm tired 
  5. It's a little weird
  6. But coffee is good
  7. so that kinda makes up for the tiredness
  8. but.....
  9. I need to stop spending so much money on coffee
  10.  Its so bad
  11. especially now that I can drive
  12. because I can stop whenever I want
  13. and for food
  14. which is worse because I'm going to weigh 200lbs by June
  15. great
  16. Cramp
  17. wait, was that a actual cramp?!?
  18. It cant be
  19. IT JUST ENDED
  20. yup, this is definitely a cramp
  21. whhhhhyyyyyyyyyy 
  22. I hate this
  23. I want to watch a movie
  24. why did I just eat all that chocolate
  25. what the heck tomorrow's valentines day I can eat what I want
  26. yeah!
  27. I'm all stiff and achy with my tired headache
  28. but hooray for yoga pants
  29. and these ones are really comfy
  30. so soft and so sleek
  31. I want more chocolate but I also want real food
  32. why must life be so hard
  33. And why do I have all this school to do
  34. and why did no one buy me tickets to my absolute favorite ballet that is going on right now 
  35. the injustice.
  36. They should make a law banning school on the weekends
  37. Because I cant remember the last time I didn't do school on a weekend
  38. that is so sad. 
  39. Sniff.