slow

Writing comes slow these days, but I've got to write.

Last night I dreamed about Hungary again. The refugee camp was much different~ much nicer, more like a small city. I remember pulling out the envelope (that is currently sitting on my desk in Cincinnati) that still has about thirty dollars worth of forints in it, and buying some ice cream. I was staying in a small room with six other girls, some of whom I know in this town. I was relieved to be back. It was different, but it was good.

I'm taking a poetry workshop class, and of course I am writing about refugees. I half hate, half love sharing poetry. It's a piece of my soul, sorta, at least a reflection of it. But I want it to be better, too, because I want to share it and I want people to be educated and feel.

Human trafficking used to make my blood boil. It was that kind of passion. The kind of anger to do things with.

The situation of refugees in the world gives a different kind of passion. It makes me so sad. Intense sadness. I read the news on Tuesday (the 15th) morning, and I cried. a lot. I'm okay with that.

This got me good.

But again, I'm having a hard time loving Americans, especially my peers. A really hard time. If we go beyond the small talk it's okay. But on topics of weather and teasing and sarcasm and complaining... what's the point? 

yeah, I want to blog today, recently, but the words are drying up again. That's okay :)

Trust

Trust.

Apparently I'm still terrible at it. Apparently God isn't going to let up on the learning. Apparently He's actually going to lay down the lessons harder.

When things are out of my control.


I don't like it.

Burst

My heart is full to burst.

So I went to Europe, alone, and I came back. There were surely moments when I half-wondered if I would get stuck there, and then there was the soft voice in the back of my head, Do you trust Me? and a sort of smile. yes. yes Jesus I trust you. Let's go.

Before I got on the plane to come home, I spent a long time waiting in the tiny town of Shwaig, Germany. Honestly, I think my time there changed my life. I realized this on some plane, or maybe it was my experience in the Paris airport, or maybe both.

There is something freeing about being unreachable. Walking along a little creek in rural Germany, smiling at an old woman on a bicycle, she doesn't know me, no one does... Free, just me and Jesus.

There is something fantastic about being desperate for help. Not fun, but fantastic. Letting go of a ton of bricks in that hotel. A ton of bricks I did not want to put down. Pleading with the man in the yellow vest at the airport to help me, though my ticket did not have the right information, and I did not speak French.

New Year's Resolutions don't work for me, but I make them anyway.

I will share courageous joy. Even when it means I will be humiliated. Jesus was humiliated, for all of us, I can be humiliated for him.

Fresh ideas.
Reading the thoughts of beautiful friends and feeling full.

Full to burst.

Changed and free and joy. Such big, loaded words.
And/But they are what I have.

I wish you a joyful new year, friends, and I wish your joy to be courageous!

real things

let's become free--
like steam,
fog in morning
an improvised melody.

let's learn to dance, the kind without steps, but movements.
the kind that will make the watchers uncomfortable- uncomfortable with a joy they cannot contain.

I'm going to Europe, alone.

A quiet excitement,
a quiet fear I am trying my best to stomp on.

magnetic poetry
vivid dreams
singing
dancing my own style
a great friend
hospitality/simple
phudge
pop music
warm lights late at night
books
sweet words from friends

wanna tell you, you're swell!

also, two friends just got engaged!
I'm runnin' to Europe! :) hahaha

I am so lonely today.
It is days like these that make me slightly panicky inside, starving for human interaction.

Days like this when I cling to God, begging him to let my life not be lived in loneliness.

delicate things

collar bones and wrists,
the delicate things
twigs that hold on through winters,
and butterfly wings.
paper snowflakes and pencil lead.
the wavering wail of a far off train whistle,
something coming but you do not know when.

I like being single!

When I was little, daydreaming about the future, it was always just me. No man.

And now, when I actually think about it, I like being single. But it seems there are NO resources for women who genuinely enjoy being single. It's kind of making me mad. All of the blogs seem to say that I should be desperately wanting a husband and I should enjoy being single... I DO! All of the articles say the same thing, pale encouragements for women who desperately want to be married. But nothing out there for those of us who think we actually like being single.

Sometimes society gets me, and sometimes in a group of people I get to thinking I want a relationship too... but I don't, really. I like this life. I do have concerns about being lonely, but I think God can take care of that :)

Anyways, I'm annoyed, because there's nothing (seemingly) out there for those of us who LIKE BEING SINGLE!