unfolding

I've spent a lot of time being confused about relationships... specifically between men and women.

Physicality aside, could you possibly get anymore more different than a man and a woman? The differences are enough to drive people crazy, and believe me, they do.

I am proof of that.

Sometimes mis-communication is so thick that it often feels as if I am trying to wall through a brick wall, only getting all the more frustrated with each attempt to clear it up, or "break through," if you will. I'm sure it doesn't help being intimidated by the person you are talking to or being insecure about how you words things outloud (seeing as how they make so much sense in your head), but how can a person possibly understand what you are saying when you literally can't even put your thoughts into spoken word without spitting up the all intelligent use of "like" or "whatever" or "you know."

No... they don't know. That's why you're in this mess, spit it out!

I admit, I stutter and putter around my words when trying to voice them out loud, but that aside, why is mis-communication so hard to clear up? And why do men not understand women?

OK, OK, and why do women not understand men?

How is it possible that when you ask a guy what he is thinking and he says "nothing," he literally means that there is a void of thought in his head? How is this possible? And if it is possible, then why is it so hard to accept that as a valid answer?

And so the cycle begins... it usually takes place after an argument of some sort for the purposes of seeking clarification, but sometimes it's a conversation starter that completely ends the conversation all together...

she: what are you thinking?

he: nothing.

she: but what are you really thinking?

he: nothing.

she: how can you be thinking nothing?

he: I don't know. I'm just not thinking about anything.

she: you aren't thinking anything at all right now?

he: yes. that's what I said, nothing.

she: I know that's what you said, I'm not asking what you said, I'm asking what you're thinking.

he: and I told you.

she: you told me nothing.

he: because that's what I was thinking.

she: but how could you be thinking nothing?

he: I don't know how. I just am.

she: do you not care about anything?

he: of course I care.

she: then how could you not be thinking about anything?

he: I don't know... I'm sorry.

she: I don't want you to be sorry.

he: then what do you want?

she: I want you to think about it!


I realize in looking at this, the woman seems kind of crazy, right? But if she's crazy, then we're all crazy (and that includes you Ms. Tomboy or Ms. guy's girl who hates girls). There is something in the way women are wired that just cannot and will not comprehend the mind of a man, and vice-versa, but let's face it, that's probably a good thing. Good things aside, it's still enough to make you more than a little irritated. And who hasn't allowed irritation to turn into a little bit of crazy?

Both of my hands are raised.

All this to say, I don't think one mind is better than the other... the mind of a man or the mind of a woman... they're just different. If we spent too much time trying to make the other think the way we think, I think it's a lost cause... but that's just me. Don't get me wrong, I think it's well beyond important to try and understand each other and understand where the other is coming from, but the mis-communication, the disagreements, the separation... it's all going to continue until both accept the fact that they are different and chose to love each other despite their differences.

Differences not only in being a man and a woman, but differences in their stories. I think it is vital to understand that every one has a story. How we respond to each other, react to situations, handle tough circumstances... a lot of that has to do with where we have come from and what we have been through. Seeing as that no one person has the exact same story, there's room for a lot of misunderstanding.

While I think it's important to understand and know each others stories when living in relationship with one another, I think it's also important for each individual to take full responsibility for their actions and decide whether or not they are going to continue acting based or past experiences or present circumstances.

Most importantly, there has to be grace.

I'm guilty of treating people based on past experiences. I have taught myself to hide my heart so far away that even people who dearly love me have a hard time getting in and seeing the real me. I present myself well. I would say most people who "know" me know that I am a fun, outgoing person. And don't get me wrong, I am... I love to have fun. I love to meet new people. But it's the people who get close to my heart that see a side of me that I would say most others don't. The side that's been hurt. The side that's still angry. The side that still holds resentment.

It is these people, usually the ones I care deepest for, who see such an ugly side of me because they are the ones I fight so hard against to protect my heart from. Fighting can reveal anyone's ugly side. And even though these people may know me better than the ones on the surface, they still don't get to see the real me when all the anger and resentment is removed.

Why do I fight so hard against people who not only love me, but who I care about? Fear of abandonment? Rejection? Broken heart? Fear of going through it all over again?

And while I think these are valid fears, I am starting to realize that the more I protect my heart, the harder my heart gets; which makes it all the more hard to love people, to understand people, and to give grace to people, who much like myself, don't deserve it.

These people I just mentioned... the ones who love me but have seen this ugly side of me... they have given me a tangible taste of God's grace for his people... a broken, hurt, angry, resentful people. A people who don't deserve, but so desperately desire to be loved. And a God who is so ready and willing to give it to them, despite their constant mistrust in who He is.

And so maybe I started out with the intentions of writing about the differences between men and women and my frustrations with the two, but maybe this has turned into me realizing that I can't continue to blame gender differences for (all) the mis-communication and mis-understanding I have faced in my own relationships. Maybe I need to work harder to loosen the death grip I have around my heart and allow God to work in it regardless of what the outcome may be.

Abandonment? Rejection? Broken heart? Going through it all over again?

Maybe.

But I will never be able to fully exercise my faith if I continue to allow myself to live in fear of what may or may not hurt me. And I will never learn to fully love others and show them the same grace that has been shown me if I continue to live with my heart selfishly wrapped in my own hand.

It's time to unfold.

love

I love the pacifist, masochist, heretic and lunatic.
I love the sick, the week, the meek, and the bold.
I love the ugly, the pretty, the average, the absent.
I love the silent, the loud, the empty, the cold.

I love the skeptic, the cynic, the doubter and doubted.
I love the young, the old, and right in between.
I love the needy, the needless, the many, the masses.
I love the sacred, the scared, the unmanageable teen.

I love the slave and slave master, the cop and the crook.
I love the mom whose lost hope and the dad who's not there.
I love the principal, the student, the offender, the offended.
I love the merciful, the grateful, and the ones who don't care.

I love the German, the Jew, the Christian, the Agnostic.
I love the blind, the deaf, the rich and the poor.
I love the broken, the healed, the dead and the wounded.
I love the virgin, the pure, the tainted, the whore.

I love the heart that lies within no matter how badly infected.
I love the ones who make it nearly impossible to love.
I love the insecure, the hurt, the "perfect," the liars.
I love Him who without I can't love the above.

dripping wet

Alexi Murdoch told me a secret about God and it was beautiful.

I saw all of humanity covered with flowers and dripping wet with rain. It smelt of honey and the bees were there but there was no sting and no pollen. It was peaceful and quiet, but not the least bit eerie. There was no such thing as normal and though it was quiet, through the stillness all you could hear was laughter. We were all the same yet all so different, and it was in our differences that we found a type of love that had yet to be experienced here on earth. I cried when he told me this secret, not because I was sad, but because I so longed for it to be a reality.

I went to bed and I dreamt I lived in an atmosphere so thick in love that it became all of who I was and all of what I saw when I looked in the eyes of another person. Even when the response was hate, I loved. Even when the response was anger, I loved. Even when the response was absent, I loved. It was in this love that I found a desire to live that I had never felt before. A desire to live not for myself, but for this Mysterious God who planted me here and asked me to grow for a while. I woke up and I planted a garden. Then I prayed for it to rain.


I wanted to thank Mr. Murdoch, but then I realized...

we've never even met.

p(r)aying for school

I'm spending my Friday night on Fourth of July weekend applying for loans to go to school. I thought I'd take a break to share with the rest of the world wide web how incredibly cool I am.

Before applying for loans I was packing up my books and CDs and calling used CD and book stores to see if I could sell them. Man, the more I write, the cooler I get.

Before that I was taking pictures of my bed. I'm gonna sell that too. I'll post a picture of it and if you're interested in a super nice, most comfortable twin bed ever, let me know.

I know you can't imagine it getting any better than this, but I have a few other things that I can't post online, legal of course, but they were gifts and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings in case they read this and find out I am selling something they gave me... but if you're curious and interested, let me know.

For those who are really curious... I will mail you a small mystery box* for the low low price of $25 (shipping included). I know it's kind of steep, but that's what you pay for a good mystery and a good cause!

If I can manage to part with them, I want to start selling some of my paintings. That's the problem with being an artist... I want to make a living doing it, yet I seem to want to keep everything I make. Aye aye aye.

I'll keep you up to date as other ideas come to mind. Until then, I've got to get back to my loan applications and my chocolate milk.

Goodnight.