Chaos
I … am … blogging in the middle of a crowded hallway. That kind of sounds like a joke or the introduction to an anecdote – but it’s not. It’s just true.
I was talking to my friend Molly last night, hashing out everything that I’ve been thinking about for the past week or so. Nothing is organized. My dear thoughts are all over the place.
Breathe.
I keep forgetting to breathe.
Madelaine L’Engle in her book “Walking on Water” talks about creating cosmos from the chaos. I think I want that. But how?
I’ve been really good at compartmentalizing everything. I reserve thoughts about school to the afternoon hours, thoughts about boys to the night. But I can’t seem to do that anymore.
I want to detox.
I told Molly last night how I wish I could write poetry to get these feelings out, to express them in an appropriate way … but all my poetry comes out as prose.
This is my poetry.
The closest thing to it.
Words that don’t mean much.
It looks a lot like
Poetry,
but it’s not.
When Jesus was on a boat during a windstorm, he slept. His apostles poked him and woke him. Sleepy-eyed Jesus told the storms to stop and they do. Then I bet Jesus went back to sleep.
God, teach me how to rest during this storm!
I was reading an old Xanga blog post of mine which talked about this topic. Even in my naivety, I understood the benefits of storms – to go through them, not to avoid them. Not to organize them. But to let them change me.
Dear God, I hate this chaos.
But let it transform me.
Get out your measuring cups and we’ll play a new game
Come to the front of the class and we’ll measure your brain
We’ll give you a complex, and we’ll give it a name
November 12, 2009
3 responses to Chaos
Oh Andrew Bird.
I'm proud of you, you've become much better at expressing your thoughts. I like your style, when you write a book, let me know.
Storms suck ass. But God loves to use them to change us and make us smoother, it's such a blessing, but I hate them and I resist them with such unrelenting passion. I know I need to let that go and just let myself exist in the hands of God, but that's harder than it sounds. And like much of Christianity it sounds pithy and lovey-dovey. I suppose I should let go of that too.
Adam, only you can make "suck ass" sound poetic.
Your welcome.