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shortness1102
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Name: Anna
Location: North Carolina, United States
Birthday: 5/14/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: adventures, being outside, singing in the shower, singing anywhere, sleeping in the grass when its warm, hot chocolate and fireplaces, sunshine, rain, and EVERYTHING in between!
Expertise: im still becoming.
Message: message me
AIM:  belovedsong 102
Member Since:
2/24/2004
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| the prompt for today: what is happening today?
Today, a psalm is being sung, or prayed, or lived, or written or whatever you'd like to do with it.
By my best guess there is among other things a healthy does of lamentation happening. I'ts not necessarily my own this time, but it is the lamentation of those I love:
How long, O Lord will you be far from me?
How long will you let my enemies assail me
They plot evil for me
They set traps with their words for me to stumble into.
O Lord, have you forgotten your servant;
Have you forgotten your promise?
Will you let them say of your servant,
He is weak he is defenseless. The words, he is useless.
I am pounding the gate of heaven,
I will storm the courts of the most high
For an answer for a Word.
I will be faithful, but it won't be easy
For me or you Lord.
But psalms aren't lived alone. A day of lamentation becomes laced with thanksgiving. And within the howling storm, upon the wind and the waves a new voice appears.
Peace, be still
Like a butterfly in the duneon of death, in the depths of despair, there is a breath of hope. A harmony adds to the dirge a lighter tone.
I have set you on a broad place, because I take delight in you.
Let not your heart be troubled, neither be afraid
For I am with you (who can be against you?).
I have reached down and removed you from the pit
I have taken you out of the frothy water.
I called you by name-
Don't you forget it.
Today, a psalm is being sung or prayed or lived or written, or whatever you'd like to do with it.
hope you enjoyed it- I'll see ya in the morning, or the moonlight, whichever comes first.
love A
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| so I'm taking a writing class- not that anything I write is that great, but I figured I would post some of it since i'm the worst web blogger person in history. enjoyez-vous. I feel like that's not very good french, but nevertheless we press on.
Something Like Love, Love is True
2/12
Today is beautiful in every way; it is true and there is no denying it. I wouldn't classify that as "capital T" truth, but it is true nonetheless. From dawn to noon to dusk, beauty and a certain "je ne sais quoi" peace have infused the day. I hope not to forget that any time soon. I hope it changes me, makes me more like itself- more true.
It's true that when that incessant (and infernal) beeping sounded at 4:45, I squashed its life out- so it is also true that today hasn't been as beautiful for as long as it could have been. But I suspect there was quite the bit of beauty even before it blurred into focus for me a short time later. Maybe I missed a shooting star, or a scent wafting in from something under my window- certainly an extra steaming cup of coffee. Oh, but how beautifully the stars shone when I did open my eyes. All in their places, they seemed to wait for my gaze before disappearing one by one.
Then came the air and the open windows… and the birds. How remarkable the birds sound after a winter of having ones' windows locked shut. It is true that their morning hymn was far more beautiful than my weary but content morning office. Just the difference between the words- morning hymn, a song of joy… office- work. It's true that prayer is both but the reminder to sing ones work should not be wasted.
The coffee smelled and tasted divine, and by the time the Psalm had sunk into my skin the soft (maybe softer than usual) pink and purple dawn had crept up to my windows and a pale breeze lapped at my toes and brushed against my cheeks. And prayers rose through the soft morning from a million other chairs or floors or tables or pews- probably more than a million. The prayers are true and they are beautiful.
And reconciliation, some simple gesture of friendship finally accepted or a grudge lifted and disbanded, that is beautiful and it is true. "That's nice, where'd ya get it?" Then an answer, "the room." Short, but not the expected grumble or panic. Better, for the first time a mutual and uncalculated unassuming smile- "Today's important you know that?" "Yeah, and it will be good." Another uncalculated unassuming smile that was true. Silver chalices and embroidered chaucibles bring a certain miracle working giddiness, that is also true. And more true than that the second naiveté of agape … perhaps even forgiveness.
The pomp of the thing proved less true, less beautiful, than usual, but it was the sunlight coming through the huge windows. The invisible Word sweeping across the stone floors- it was the repetition that proved true. Who cares what it sounds like or what it happens to be wearing on a day like today. The lilies of the field were in their outshining pomp mood- but the Word of God and the People of God conversing, in the exact same old boring way that they do every day about that time. It's perfectly beautiful. It stays true, and it washes over me whispering of beauty to come.
And at the end of the day, all alone, true and beautiful, something like Love emerges. Love- and gratitude for it all, even the parts I didn't see. It was love all along, love was true, glinting out from the morning stars. Love, in a million voices, rising with the morning light to itself. Love whispering Selah. Love breezing across the sunrise. Love giddy and forgiving. Love reciting, "my body my blood." So many things true, But all of them Love.
At the end, Love is true.
and i'll see YOU in the morning, or the moonlight- whichever comes first.
A | | |
| I had a long talk with a very dear friend the other day about the issue of vulnerability and intimacy. We both agree we're not always terribly good at it and that most people have sort of strange and skewed perceptions of them. It's been a while since I've posted, mostly because i've been busy but also because a lot of thoughts are really jumbled up inside of me right now and hard to articulate. Over the course of the summer I have realized that I don't "do" intimacy or vulnerability well. Now before you all start thinking i'm ever going to share everything that goes on in my head, don't get too excited. I'm not. I'm just not wired that way. But I know I need to share some things. "the blog" is probably not the best step as it's a lovely anonymous step, and let's face it, a pretty safe one. Only the people who care enough to stalk me (is that caring?? i'm not sure hah!) will read this anyway. And don't get all worried, I'm not a basket case at present, i'm just asking some quesitons and i'd like to hear how other people are answering them, because i'm not sure how I do or will in the future.
intimacy and vulnerability are largely the same thing- or at least for my purposes and in my head. I feel like I sometimes try to believe relationships I have are more vulnerable than they are. Like substituting theological ideas for real conversation about who I am or where I am. Or even the physical touch issue- so many of us are huggers and physically affectionate with those around us. I'm wondering if sometimes that's a substitute for a different kind of intimacy that doesn't manufacture easily or come quickly. Maybe, especially in new places with new people, we create relationships that we can fool ourselves into thinking are intimate with shared vulnerability (because we know we need it!) when really, they are shallow with a lot of words and touches being thrown back and forth into the breach. And mean 'relationships' in the narrow sense of romantic relationships. I mean the whole gamut of relationship, but most especially i mean friendships. What could be more important, intimate, and difficult than a deep and true friendship where one is known and knows the other?
I avoid emotional intimacy like the plague. Maybe somebody else who reads this does too. It's not an intentional thing, its just such a hard thing and it's pretty easy to get out of with most people. Who listens to you long enough for you to really be vulnerable these days anyway? Not a ton of people. It's scary, because when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable- in that space we make room for others to laugh at us, correct us, or wound us deeply, i'm not sure which is more painful. But at the same time- it's only when we're vulnerable that we open enough space for others to love us, treat us gently, and know us deeply. I'm not sure which is the best medicine. Jenn preached a sermon a few weeks ago on the vulnerability of God- and of course the cross comes to mind and how God allowed Godself to be exposed, nailed down, and killed. But in doing so God allowed us to draw near to his terrible and beautiful love, and occasionally, when he helps us to, say Yes, Lord, you know I love you and mean it.
I'm wondering if other people out there have thoughts? Please post or bring this up with me or email me, i'd like a dialogue :o)
for now- I'll see ya in the morning, or the moonlight, whichever comes first,
aea | | |
| I think it's getting about time for some sort of adventure. I'm not entirely sure what gives me that idea, except that feeling you get in your bones when its time to embark on something big. Or when something huge is about to change the world and you have been embarked before you knew it. Ok... probably nothing that big. Maybe just some sort of hiking, or late night excursion... just something different. I can think of a few reasons that adventure season might be beginning now-
a. fall is coming. Yeah, I know its the beginning of July, but this is the time of year I start thinking about crisp mornings and chilly nights. I've got about six months to wait, now that global warming is killing the seasons. But leaves changing is starting to slip into my mind. And that pathos that inhabits the cold and beautifully colored trees is rising even as the summer has peaked (it always does around the 4th) and begun its decent into the dog days which will inevitably lead to... you guessed it... fall. And everyone knows that fall is the best time to set out on some sort of adventure. Not sure why, but it seems to be that way. i think it has something to do with the moon, and the wildness in the air that comes with the chilly breeze.
b. gchat convo with alex ford today... adventure buddies unite! those of you who don't know alex should. and if you do, you know why I would write that. He's a wandering adventurer at heart, and it comes out when we chat.
c. led zeppelin. I listened to Houses of the Holy and CD IV today... mmmmmm mmmm mmmm good. From the opening of Song Remains the Same through Rain song I started getting pumped. It reminds you that with the fall breeze comes the urge for goin, even if you never seem to go. Then somewhere around the Battle of Evermore, well adventure of epic scale starts to be necessary. Just wait and see how bad this gets when I get my hands on my Doors CD I left in Durham!
d. photo - extravaganza. I had dinner tonight at Dave Mills (a retired Chaplain & Pastor) and his wife Sandy's and they showed me, and the other guests some awesome pictures of Machu-Pichu and the Galapagos Islands... enough said there as well. I mean, wow.
so, all in all, i was just thinking today, it's adventure time. But until i have one, i'll settle for a happy list.
Happy List Summerville Style
-packed church services with extra loud hymn singing
-parents!
-floating with great company
-big smiles and hugs
-Ms. Janie
-reading and writing some
-warm summer days
-family dinners when people take you in
-Charleston Market
-feeling at home where you least expected
i'll see you in the morning, or the moonlight, whichever comes first,
aea | | |
| wow. what a month this has been!!! I love this church. If i haven't said it before, I love this church! But it's that time of year again... patriotism time- yay 4th of July! I'm coming to a new place with this holiday. First of all, i've never been able to completely hate it as much as I have oft taken the hauerwasian line and railed against the imperialist powers etc etc. I tried. But i love fire works. I mean, like i get upset if I miss them on the 4th. I LOVE fireworks. If for no other reason, the 4th is somewhat redeemed by brilliant colored lights exploding in the sky. And as I good friend of mine (i won't say who) notes so well, "I love it when you feel it inside of you." There's just something about explosions that apparently, as an american, i am yet un-immune to.
Religiously, the fourth has always made me nervous. Rash nationalism just makes my skin crawl, maybe because were it not for the church i would probably sign on with the state. Oh, and usually it can be pretty destructive. But maybe there's something to prayerful- patriotism that excludes nationalism, and includes loving people within the state as well as out. I hope. ANYWAY. All that to say- the lovely and illustrious Miss Jodi Lampley sent me this beautiful hymn today, that i think we all profit from this time of year. It's been a long time since I heard it, and the reminder was welcome. So, as your nervously-patriotic fourth of july post (I can't believe i'm doing this) I'm posting a patriotic hymn.
This is my song, O God of all the nations,
a song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;
but other hearts, in other lands are beating
with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.
My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean,
and sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine;
but other lands have sunlight too, and clover,
and skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
O hear my song, thou God of all the nations,
a song of peace for their land and for mine.
This is my prayer, O Lord of all earth’s kingdoms:
Thy kingdom come; on earth thy will be done.
Let Christ be lifted up till all shall serve him,
and hearts united learn to live as one.
O hear my prayer, thou God of all the nations;
myself I give thee; let thy will be done.
yup, that just happened. Please, don't scorn me too much, but it's a really prayerful version of patriotism i think.
i'll see you in the morning, or the moonlight (or at the fireworks!) whichever comes first,
aea | | |
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