Summer 2015: Commitment

 Commitment.

A scary word.

One that is rarely heard these days.

One that young people don't dare to say.

The meaning is too deep, the implications too costly.

So they shy away and stick to less intimidating words.

But so much is missing in that 'safe' approach.

Commitment is a strong word, but with that intensity comes unparalleled beauty.

When two people date, when they fall in love, there inevitably comes a point of decision.

Will they ever know every little thing about the other half? 

Will they ever discover every facet of their being?

Understand the nuances of each laugh?

Will they ever confidently state that there is nothing they don't know, even if unseen?

NO.

It's impossible with humanity.

But at some point, that couple must consciously decide that they will embrace each other, even the unknowns, even those things which they still don't know.

They must commit to that person, taking them as they are, beauty marks and scars, saying they are willing to walk with them the road to complete understanding in that relationship, until the end.

There comes a point where we must decide that person is worth the struggle that will follow in digging deep to uncover the true self that lies beneath. 

That they are worth the joys that will result in the years to come.

But if we wait until we know 'enough,' when enough is everything, we will never experience the joy of commitment.  

We will never live in the fullness of the security, the mystery, the discovery, the solidarity, of commitment. 

It seems so scary, making many wary of it, 

But there is so much power and incredible life to be found when you commit.

A letter to myself: 2013

 Laurel,

You are not Kait.

You are not K.T.

You are not Jasmine.

You are Laurel. Created uniquely. You have a unique perspective of the world. But you are not always right. You have much to learn. You can learn so much from those around you. You need not be them, but humble yourself and learn from them. 

Celebrate with their victories. Rejoice over their joys. Hurt with them in their trials and pains. 

You have been freed by love and are now free to love.

Humble yourself. Embrace each moment for what it is, not what it could or should or would be. Live in unity, motivated and characterized by selfless, pure love. Be real, be honest, be vulnerable, but be free to be yourself in it. 

-------

What a night, when I can just let go of this fight that's constantly raging within me and rest in the beauty of this moment. It's in these times when I can truly own this freedom that's promised in Christ. So often I challenge everything that's thrown my way, never accepting anything at face value, but seeking the deeper truth behind the presented rule of thumb. Thinking is good, but I've found that so often it makes me numb to the beauty that's surrounding me every moment of every day. 

They call it getting lost in thought for a reason, for you miss out on so much of the life of the here and now when you are on that walk among the grounds of intellect, trying to make sense of each facet of each details. I'm afraid I'm afraid of finding my way back from this jaunt cause I've been lost for so long. Yet my heart longs to sing a different song. 

One of beauty, embracing each moment for what it is, one that can go with the flow, one that's not afraid to love or the the joy found in embracing the tension that seems so present. Accepting it for what it is, not what I perceive would make logical sense. Freed to enjoy every aspect of life, living in unity, holistically living fully. Yet not compromising my intellectual integrity. 

You gave me intellect, a mind that thinks critically, but why? I can't yet see how these wrestlings end in your glory. I yearn for all of these blocks to build into a magnificent edifice that is completed by the breakthroughs of intimacy, a releasing of the mystic in me that is rooted in a common orthodoxy. 

Let the floodgates burst open and let blind eyes see, let the waters of love drown me in a faith and a belief so beautiful that I can't control its depth or power, an amazing grace that takes the place of all my questions and doubting. 

Am I afraid of the quiet place cause of what I may find? A brokenness and wreckage of a life that's bitterly mine? Why can't my mind believe in the sheer beauty of complete vulnerability. Why do I bottle up what's inside as if trying in pride to hide who I really am. 

Oh, the freedom of true humility that releases expectation and lets my broken self be broken, resting in the hope of redemption that fully sees me and knows me in my depravity. 

Yet what amazing grace that still loves a wretch like me. I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. I don't have to suffocate behind this stuffy façade anymore. But true humility enables me to lay my weapons down, not looking around at who to impress, but willingly offering you the real me, brokenness complete, not hiding my sin but owning its reality, yet embracing the forgiveness that envelops me in Christ. 

These things are so easy to write down, yet there's a disconnect about the whole thing. I can speak it all day, but to live it is astoundingly difficult.

Anyway, all that to say, it's been a good day of work and play where I can see the gorgeous people around me, yet in all honesty, this park is kind of creepy at night. I might have to agree with Alex Supertramp, that happiness is only real when shared.

A Prayer: Circa 2016ish

 Search me.

Well, at least that's what I want my prayer to be.

Yet I know reality is a bit different.

I am aware of the ugliness of my own heart

And therefore, I put a mask on it, a secret art of hiding

In the silence, I come face to face with who I am

And I can barely stand to stand in my own presence

I don't want to admit I am who I am

Because it's a harsh truth

I'm not who I want to be

So I hide

I don't want to own-up to my coming-up short

So I hide

Yet I am torn by this great tension inside my own mind

I recognize the beauty and freedom in verse 23

I see how powerful it can be

Yet I try to flee

To hide

To hide my heart and oppress my mind

But today I realize the only way to be truly free is to be humbled, laid bare, and wholly me

So instead of choosing to flee

I choose to strip off every mask

Allowing eyes to see past the walls I built to guard myself

But now I choose to be laid bare

Search me, O God, and know my heart

Test me and know my anxious thoughts

See if there is any offensive way in me

And lead me in the way everlasting

See me and know me

And through that, set me free

Free to be me

Fully see, fully known, and fully set free.

Hello again, my old writing friend.

 

Oh the power of remembering. Of reflecting. Or reading words that I thought were beginning to fade with age. No. Instead of slipping away, they flood with a fresh power, deeper emotions, more beautiful as the hours go by. I thought my well of words had run dry. I thought I would never have the melody of flow on my finger tips or the whisper of life-giving words on my lips again. I thought that part of me had died. But reading through the things that originated in my heart and my mind years ago seems to revive that spark, remind me that that flow with words is still alive. And for that I am eternally grateful. Reading my own words now, chronological years and metaphorical light-years away, brings tears to my eyes, emotion threatening to burst out in the middle of this coffee shop. I used to speak in figurative language to make meaning of my life, of my experiences, but that part of me has been pushed down, stifled as I’ve tried to just survive all that’s come at me, or that I’ve walked into due to my decision-making laziness.

Painting a picture with my words. I miss it. I want to re-immerse myself in that world of life. Of expression. I don’t care if no one ever sees my rendition of my experiences, but I need to write. I need to allow the flow to flow from my fingertips as I free my mind from the clawing grips of twisted reality and the feeling that I need to be doing something else. Being ‘productive.’ But what does that even mean? When I define my life by productivity, it robs all life, sucks the joy, diminishes the light that’s breaking in. Why don’t I do this more often.