Broken-down Poetry

Next steps

Give to me miles of tall evergreens
And the smell of the ocean and cool mountain breeze
Won’t you please? – The Lonely Forest

Welp, I am one step closer to a new life. Today I sent in my application to The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology, a grad school I’ve been looking at since sophomore year.

I think the hardest part about this break-up (yes, I’m still on that topic) is that nothing else has changed. I still have my boring class schedule; I still have stressful newspaper duties. And though there are definite benefits to a routine — especially for the times I love my job and my school work — more often than not I just want to get away.

Running away isn’t really an option yet. In May — yes.

—

I don’t feel a part of the IWU community anymore — it’s odd. It feels like everything is still going on around me, but I’m somehow excluded. I kind of like it this way. I’m still very aware of its politics, but I don’t take a part. I don’t get worked up over bad chapels or worthless classes. Maybe I’m on IWU autopilot.

This must just be senioritis at its finest.

I am past all this. My heart is in Seattle. My heart is in the land of false-hope.

December 1, 2011  Leave a comment

Good grief

My Heart is a Room
In a Ramshackle House
Where the shades have been drawn
And all scenery is gone -The Lonely Forest

—

I haven’t blogged in a while, because I’ve been sick and consequently lazy. I spent three hours last night watching The Office — and crying at Jim and Pam’s wedding. I’ve seen the episode before, twice.

Anyway, today’s Day 21, and I am doing well. I mean, my sinuses aren’t doing well, but I’m doing well emotionally.

I realized today (in the shower) that in a single day I go through all five stages of grief. Today I went through at least four.

At points I was in denial that Nathan’s no longer mine. Other times I was upset, nearing depression. Most often I bargained with my circumstances, asking what if? what if? There have been moments too when I’ve felt so much at peace, knowing that everything will be fine and is fine.

December 1, 2011  Leave a comment

28-day goals

I’ve said that I need to make goals — I’m finally making them.

I can’t live long without goals. (Heh, I’ll keel over.)

So here they are. They’re 28-day goals:

1. I will read the book of Isaiah. I haven’t read my Bible in a long time. I really haven’t. I’ve read verses, I’ve read books about the Bible, but I haven’t read the Good Book in some time. I think it’s because I’m not sure what to do with this whole inerrancy thing. But, instead of praying and trying to figure that out, I gave up on the Bible. Well. No more. I chose Isaiah because of its prophecy (hey, it’s Advent!) and because it’s both convicting and comforting.

2. I will lose weight – specifically 5 pounds from the last time I weighed myself. Yes, this is vague. That’s on purpose.

3. I will leave certain people the heck-alone. Nate and I decided to be friends. This makes me so happy. It’s one thing to lose a boyfriend, but to lose a friend too? The problem is my lack of self-control. I need to leave him alone.

I decided this weekend that my life is cyclical. I mean, I’ve known this, but I see it again. This year is just like sophomore year. I’m in love with a guy who doesn’t like me back. I’ll do what I did back then — I will play it cool. I will let myself hope (hope keeps me sane), but let the crush fade when it’s time to move on. It worked for J.D., so it can work with Nate. Sound like a weak plan? Well. I know myself well enough to say it’ll work — as long as I keep from texting Nate all the time.

4. I will not cry on Christmas. This sounds like a really pathetic goal, I know. But I cried on Thanksgiving, and I’ve cried most of these 18 days. So, on day 46 I will not cry. How is this a goal? Well, I’ll practice not crying.

5. I will find a date for New Year’s. That date may be Rachel Pyle, but a date’s a date.

—

Those aren’t the best goals in the world – go figure – but they’re goals. And they’re realistic, achievable goals.

November 28, 2011  2 Comments

Day 17

‘Cause you’re a g–damn fool
You’re a g–damn fool
You’re a g–damn fool
And I love you
Yeah, I love you – David Bazan

—

It’s Day 17, and I’m a mess.

It’s hard being at home, because I always missed Nate when I was in Fort Wayne. I remember at the beginning of summer, sitting in my room bawling because I missed him so much. Mom rolled her eyes and said it’s good for us to be apart.

I’ve cried every day I’ve been back, except Wednesday. (Wednesday wasn’t so bad.)

I decided, too, to make a chart of my emotions since the day we broke up. Maybe you’ll find this amusing (or pathetic or interesting) too:

To understand this chart you need to know that a 5 is happiness, a 3 is about mediocre (having happy moments, but with a lingering feeling of sadness), and 0 is death. So. Needless to say, I haven’t hit 0. Phew!

When they say a “roller coaster of emotions,” they were talking about me. Sheesh.

—

So if I were to pray for anything in this moment — and if I were to ask you to pray for anything — I’d say pray for peace. That’s all I want. I don’t need to be happy (5’s all the time). I need peace that God knows what he’s doing, that this is what’s best for me, that Nathan isn’t “the one,” that things will get better, that the LORD is still a romantic.

I need that kind of peace.

I don’t need to be happy that Nathan’s no longer mine. I don’t know if that’ll come any time soon. But I do need peace about it. I prayed the whole length of our relationship that I’d have peace about being with him or breaking up with him. I’ve only had peace about being with him. I don’t know how to interpret that; I guess a part of me believes that says we’re meant to be together. (A girl can hope, right?)

But right now that’s probably not what’s best for me. Hoping for that relationship may not make things easier for me.

What I need is God’s peace. I need to hear him say, “Girl, everything is going to be okay.” And I need to believe it.

—

Today I am thankful for all those who’ve helped me throughout break. I’m thankful for Mom who listened to me cry several times. I’m thankful for Russ who doesn’t get too weirded out by my tears. I’m thankful for Rachel Pyle who’s been checking in on me every day. I’m thankful for Lydia Bullock and Jeremy Courtney who believe I can do better. I’m thankful for Miss Katie McCollister who gives great advice. I’m thankful for my sissypie who keeps me distracted (and thinking about hot British guys). I’m thankful for my cousin, who told me Nate’s an idiot for breaking up with me. I’m thankful for Dr. Karnehm who said the same. I’m thankful for Molly Meyer for telling me she loves me frequently. I’m thankful for my guy friends whose texts have made my day — whether they realize it or not.

I am surrounded by awesome people. God, have I ever had such great friends? (Thank you.)

November 27, 2011  Leave a comment

Ruthless Trust, loc. 488-489

The antithesis of giving thanks is grumbling. The grumblers live in a state of self-induced stress. Like the crew of vineyard workers who had labored from dawn to dusk and felt cheated when latecomers received the same wage (Matt. 20:1-16), they bellyache about the unfairness of life, the paucity of their gifts, the insensitivity of their spouse, and employer, the liberals who are destroying the church and the conservatives who have deserted their post, the hot weather and the cold pizza, the greedy rich and shiftless poor, and their victimization at the hands of the IRS, the Immigration and Naturalization Service, and the manufacturers of Viagra. (Small wonder that the stressed-out grumblers are two and a half times more susceptible to colds than grateful people, according to Ohio State virologist Ronald Glaser.)

In his Rule for monasteries, St. Benedict considered grumbling a serious offense against community life. … In my mind, the most wonderful line in Benedict’s Rule describes the appropriate response to a “contumacious monk” who is creating discord in the monastic community. “Let Father Abbot send two stout monks to explain the matter to him” (chapter 20, italics mine). The saintly founder of Western monasticism implies that a left jab to the solar plexus and a right hook to the jaw would swiftly clear the grousing brother’s mind. — Brennan Manning

November 24, 2011  Leave a comment

Cease Striving

“Cease striving and know that I am God.”

The most beautiful thing I learned from Nathan was the importance of peace. It’s all he wants in life — now, it’s all I want.

Throughout Scripture God tells his people to trust in Him, to find peace, to fear not, to worry not, to stop crying, to love the LORD — He never tells them to freak out or make plans. God laughs at plans. When have I ever been able to predict even how tomorrow will end up?

The coolest things that have happened to me in the past four years have been without my striving. Yes, they’ve taken effort, but never striving. Consider this:

I didn’t fret about getting at job with The Sojourn. Everything came by chance. I had an opportunity to write for it first semester, then the next semester I took a class and eventually got hired on as a staff writer. The rest of my positions have been natural transitions. I’ve worked at my job. I’ve tried to get better at my skill (and I believe I have), but I never set out to accomplish great feats or anything. I just did my work well, and let that take me to the next step.

I didn’t strive to get an internship with the Indianapolis Monthly either. I just heard about it, applied, and interviewed.When I called my roommate to tell her I got it, she said, “You kind of backed up into this, didn’t you?” I did. It just happened. Yes, I had to work to get the thing. (I had the experience; I had to actually apply for the internship.) But I didn’t fret about it, and I didn’t strive.

I could tell a million more stories like these. It’s like that line in Jayber Crow: “I have been unable to shake off the feeling that I have been led.” I feel more as though I’ve been led to The Sojourn, to the IM, to the Seattle School, even to my relationship with Nathan and to other friendships.

It’s beautiful, I believe. I’m happier this way, than I would be if I slaved over the application or something like that.

(Plus, it means I’m not disappointed, because I have less invested.)

More on this subject later, believe me.

Happy Day 14.

November 23, 2011  Leave a comment

Death, and Day 13

Everything must die.

—

The word of the LORD came to me:  “Son of man, with one blow I am about to take away from you the delight of your eyes. Yet do not lament or weep or shed any tears. Groan quietly; do not mourn for the dead. Keep your turban fastened and your sandals on your feet; do not cover your mustache and beard or eat the customary food of mourners.”

So I spoke to the people in the morning, and in the evening my wife died. The next morning I did as I had been commanded. – Ezekiel 24:15-18

I’ve preached this sermon a million times, but I’m going to do it again. Everything seed must die before it grows.

This is a painful reality, friends, but it’s true. I see it time and time again.

—

When I was in eighth grade, a woman named Beth came to my youth group and spoke about her work in Calcutta, India, and what it means to let go. She said we need to learn how to live open-handedly, ready to give up what we love in an instant.

Don’t think I’ve come to make life cozy. – Matthew 10:34a

I remember a few years later when I learned that her brother Ben had decided to become a missionary too, even though his love was for drawing. That, for some reason, pissed me off more than anything. Wouldn’t God want us to follow our hearts, passions, and dreams?

I remember a few years later when my dream to work for RELEVANT Magazine died. I thought back to Ben and it made sense to me. God makes things die only so something better will grow in its place. (There’s peace in this, I believe.)

But — why let the first thing live at all?

—

My life has been full of dying. Why would I expect anything different now? In high school I felt God’s call to be Ezekiel, the “watchman” prophet to Israel. I believed it was my duty to look after my fellow Christians, to live a life worth imitating. But part of Ezekiel’s example-setting concerned his wife dying — the “delight of your eyes.”  In doing that I had to die to my pride; I had to die to my crushes and my wants. I’ve given up so many dreams these past 7 or 8 years. Why even have them in the first place?

I don’t know the answer to this. Maybe it’s God’s sick way of keeping control (I don’t really mean this). I do know that in the end I’m happier and more fulfilled than I was in the first place. I believe this will be the case for Nathan and me.

It’s day 13 and I miss him terribly. I had a beautiful day today: I drove to Indy in the rain, I landed an incredible internship. I was, most of all, reminded of my love for city-life.

I rode home thinking, “Boy, I am glad to be me in my circumstances.” I thought about Nathan fondly and didn’t let myself get down.

Well. When I got home, all that changed. I felt lonely again. I missed him. I missed him missing me (this is silly). I cried with my mom for 30 minutes in her arms. I was a little girl again. I needed Mommy.

And I do. I need her and I need God’s grace and I need him to make sense of this.

But here’s the truth: What will come of this will be what’s best. Months down the road, I’ll either be back with Nathan in a healthy, beautiful relationship — or I’ll be in Seattle, Washington, crushing over some yuppie.

Or, knowing God, neither of these will be true, but instead something better and unexpected.

Right now, my heart still aches for him. It’s too soon to think about moving on. It’s too soon to process our relationship, even. All I have the energy to do is cry or focus on other things. Maybe by Christmas I’ll have this figured out.

November 23, 2011  Leave a comment

Days 10 & 11

Day 10.

—

I woke up crying. I’ve written before how I’m the happiest in the morning, and then it fades from there. No, today I woke up crying. I am alright now, thanks to hugs and friends and coffee and the weather. (Rain, I love.)

I know for sure now that I need goals, maybe just a set of monthly goals, so I have something to work toward.

—

Pain — has an Element of Blank —
It cannot recollect
When it begun — or if there were
A time when it was not —

It has no Future — but itself —
Its Infinite contain
Its Past — enlightened to perceive
New Periods — of Pain. – Emily Dickinson

—

I feel better right now, but I feel as though I made to it the fourth stage of grief: depression.

Boy, oh boy.

The only thing that is saving me is distractions.

—

Day 11.

Yesterday got worse, then it got easier.

I called my mom crying after dinner. I had been doing so well, but then I fell weak again. Which is okay. Really, it’s okay.

That’s what my mom told me, anyway: It’s okay to cry. It’s good to cry. So I did for about 15 minutes. Then I carried on with my evening, and had a lot of fun.

Today has been good as well. I know what will get me through this break-up is keeping focused on other things. There are a million other things to devote myself to than despair.  So for today, I will focus on my grad school application, and I will focus on my senior project.

Today will be a good day.

November 20, 2011  Leave a comment