I woke up to find it was snowing outside. And golly did it ever snow and snow. I tried to go to prayer meeting, I really did; but what felt like 5 thousand hit curbs later, I turned around and headed home. This innocent trip had turned into a suicide mission. It doesn't help that my car seriously goes out of its way to crash. I mean, it really has no idea what to do in the snow. This afternoon it's stopped snowing but there's quite a bit of white stuff on the ground, so I can't go to the Xtreme Rat Challenge, which I've been looking forward to all year. But I did stay home and clean rat cages.
On a side note, this Harry/Ron relationship video cracks me up
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Drama Day
This morning I woke up a bitch. I went way too long without my antidepressant. My doctor told me to stop, but I knew that was going to crash and burn, which it did. I popped one after I realized I wanted the whole world to go to hell and leave me alone, which is not a normal thought for me. Anyway, I’m feeling a little better now.
I went to Unionaires, though of course I sat out since I have no voice. My friend Owen joined me. He still has a voice, but he’s got congestion that’s keeping him from singing very high and he’s a tenor. Esther was a bit ticked I hadn’t told her I was sick. “I would have brought you soup!” she exclaimed. Crap, why didn’t I tell her I was sick? She said her sister (who is, according to Esther, my long lost twin) lost her voice too. Very odd coincidence. The other coincidence of the day was that I told Tim I’d had a dream where I was going to have surgery and he had turned out to be my surgeon. Surprisingly, Tim responded by telling me if he wasn’t in music, he’d probably be studying to be a surgeon. I don’t think I’m psychic; I was just jacked up on nasal decongestants at the time.
But what’s going to keep me up tonight? Stupid boys. Trevor gave me this kind of raised-eyebrows smile today. My first thought was “Oh, crap.” That’s the kind of thing that has the most pathetic effect on me. I’m jumping up and down in my head thinking, “Someone of the male race noticed me!” It doesn’t help that I was madly in love with that certain male for a week. I mean, I’m over Trevor. Totally. I think. Owen talked to me and didn’t mentally jump up and down quite as much as when Trevor looked at me. ’Course, Owen’s taken. Later on I’m thinking, “Trevor is such a jerk. I mean, I tell him I like him. I ask him out. We talk online now and again, but only because I initiate the conversation. Surely he would deduce that I’m either lonely or I just really like him. You’d think that he would acknowledge that in some way, but he never does. Every time I see him he acts like I’m not there and the online contact is nil. But he must realize that I want to be his friend. So then he gives me this tiny bit of acknowledgement and I’m supposed to what? Smile back? If he really is ignorant of my presence it’s because he’s a selfish moron.” But I can beat against Trevor all I want; God knows I’d fly to him in the blink of an eye if given the chance. Slapping myself all the way, I might add.
On my way to my car after Unionaires I saw an accident. I don’t know what happened, but I saw an ambulance and people pulling someone (who looked conscious) from a car and putting him on a stretcher. As if that wasn’t enough for one day, my sister comes home telling me to turn on the radio because there’s been a shooting at the Von Maur in Omaha. We ended up looking it up online. Some random dude opened fire in Von Maur, killed someone and wounded others. Now the shooter was loose somewhere in the mall, which was being evacuated. Ginny kept up with the reports, filling me in while I washed dishes. It’s over now and the final count is 8 dead and others wounded. The guy who was shooting killed himself in the end.
So now this thing is national news, splashed across the front page of my email. These horrible things always happen in the most unexpected places. I mean, Von Maur? I shop there. I could have been me. My mom and I, we go to Omaha for my checkups at the Transplant center and sometimes we go do something fun afterwards. What if we had been there today? What if we had done what my mom and sister had done before and stopped at the Panera right outside that same Von Maur? We could have been killed. But, thank You God, we were here in Lincoln. We were safe. But it just goes to show, it could have been anyone.
I went to Unionaires, though of course I sat out since I have no voice. My friend Owen joined me. He still has a voice, but he’s got congestion that’s keeping him from singing very high and he’s a tenor. Esther was a bit ticked I hadn’t told her I was sick. “I would have brought you soup!” she exclaimed. Crap, why didn’t I tell her I was sick? She said her sister (who is, according to Esther, my long lost twin) lost her voice too. Very odd coincidence. The other coincidence of the day was that I told Tim I’d had a dream where I was going to have surgery and he had turned out to be my surgeon. Surprisingly, Tim responded by telling me if he wasn’t in music, he’d probably be studying to be a surgeon. I don’t think I’m psychic; I was just jacked up on nasal decongestants at the time.
But what’s going to keep me up tonight? Stupid boys. Trevor gave me this kind of raised-eyebrows smile today. My first thought was “Oh, crap.” That’s the kind of thing that has the most pathetic effect on me. I’m jumping up and down in my head thinking, “Someone of the male race noticed me!” It doesn’t help that I was madly in love with that certain male for a week. I mean, I’m over Trevor. Totally. I think. Owen talked to me and didn’t mentally jump up and down quite as much as when Trevor looked at me. ’Course, Owen’s taken. Later on I’m thinking, “Trevor is such a jerk. I mean, I tell him I like him. I ask him out. We talk online now and again, but only because I initiate the conversation. Surely he would deduce that I’m either lonely or I just really like him. You’d think that he would acknowledge that in some way, but he never does. Every time I see him he acts like I’m not there and the online contact is nil. But he must realize that I want to be his friend. So then he gives me this tiny bit of acknowledgement and I’m supposed to what? Smile back? If he really is ignorant of my presence it’s because he’s a selfish moron.” But I can beat against Trevor all I want; God knows I’d fly to him in the blink of an eye if given the chance. Slapping myself all the way, I might add.
On my way to my car after Unionaires I saw an accident. I don’t know what happened, but I saw an ambulance and people pulling someone (who looked conscious) from a car and putting him on a stretcher. As if that wasn’t enough for one day, my sister comes home telling me to turn on the radio because there’s been a shooting at the Von Maur in Omaha. We ended up looking it up online. Some random dude opened fire in Von Maur, killed someone and wounded others. Now the shooter was loose somewhere in the mall, which was being evacuated. Ginny kept up with the reports, filling me in while I washed dishes. It’s over now and the final count is 8 dead and others wounded. The guy who was shooting killed himself in the end.
So now this thing is national news, splashed across the front page of my email. These horrible things always happen in the most unexpected places. I mean, Von Maur? I shop there. I could have been me. My mom and I, we go to Omaha for my checkups at the Transplant center and sometimes we go do something fun afterwards. What if we had been there today? What if we had done what my mom and sister had done before and stopped at the Panera right outside that same Von Maur? We could have been killed. But, thank You God, we were here in Lincoln. We were safe. But it just goes to show, it could have been anyone.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
The Honest to God Truth
I want to be honest. Painfully honest. I am Rebecca Baldwin Manner and I’ve never been anyone else. I don’t know what it is to be anyone else. I’ve always been in my own world (which is often wrapped up in other worlds, but it’s my world nonetheless). I’ve never lived in any body but this one, never seen out of any other eyes but these. I’m just a 5’1, 140 lb person and what is that in the midst of the world? So I may as well be honest about what I am. Or rather, what I know about myself.
I lied to a friend and that lie got bigger and bigger after I hung up the phone because I kept going deeper and deeper into something I said was a shallow love. I said, “It’s not like that anymore because I know the ending and I can let go. Now it’s just a good book.” I suppose there is some truth in that. But really, when I read the 7th book the last time, I didn’t totally surrender to it. Now I have. I don’t regret it. I’m not saying that. And I guess I don’t regret my lie either because there really is no explaining. I best keep it to myself and inject my overflowing passion into outlets where it will not be recognized for what it is. I need to make my passion relevant to my own life because if I don’t then I may as well kill myself; because then I would only be able to focus on that world and never another. I would die of longing and being completely unproductive. Stupid, really. So I have to build my own life around the passion and let the passion seep through the woodwork, manifesting itself in my endeavors.
I suppose that’s kind of what it’s like to be a Christian. But as a Christian most things are clear cut. And does God give you this constant flow of passion, of fire? No, He doesn’t. And things are so clear cut that you can say, “well, there it is, that’s what is going to happen and here’s the map.” And then what is there? Waiting. Being boring. Looking at old, pixilated pictures of fake flowers strewn over an old Bible and thinking, “here’s my world. This must be happiness.” No, sorry. I don’t want it. I want God, sure. I really want God. But there has to be another way.
I want to live with passion, even though it drives me up the wall. Because this Harry Potter mental disease I get…well, I know I’ve been trying to sort out what to do with it, how to make sense of it for eight years. But there has to be some way. It’s on the tip of my mind. But it’s been in the tip of my mind for years. It threatens to drive one crazy if there isn’t redemption of some sort. Usually, instead of redemption I use a band-aid. A band-aid would be a distraction from a less demanding world. I put in a different movie, read a different book. But I feel so completely lonely. Because once I close one of those Harry Potter books, I’ve lost my friends and the fake-reality hits. I don’t have any friends. But that’s not true. I have wonderful friends. But I’m always chasing. I always want something better. And I usually end up embarrassing myself because, let’s face it, my social skills aren’t the best in the world. I have absolutely no figgin idea how to act around people my own age.
And don’t even get me started on boys. I want guy friends. Any male influence would be more than welcome. The male race is as foreign to me as Catholicism to a Seventh - day Adventist. I know about guys, but to the record I currently have only one real, male friend. Seriously. It makes me want to cry. Human beings were meant to be surrounded my both sexes. We’re supposed to have a mom and dad. Than, maybe, we’re supposed to have a brother. Then guy friends. Then a husband. All I know is the world of women and frankly, I’m a bit sick of it.
Okay, so obviously I’m alive which means I must have a father. And I do, of course, but I think I’m better acquainted with my uncles I see once a year than my father. The dad thing is a touchy subject and not one I’m going to talk about right now. I have no brothers (I don’t count my step-brother). I have one guy friend. And, obviously, I’m not married.
I shouldn’t sell anyone short here, though. I do have other guy friends of all ages. But I hardly ever talk to them. They’re not the kind of people I call up on a Saturday night and ask if they want to do something, or text while I’m in the check-out line at Wal-Mart. And I should really stop talking about this because it’s pissing me off more than it should. I give up. I’ve tried, I really have, but I don’t think that the guys like me. Maybe my problem is that I’m just not involved in anything where there are guys. It’s just Unionaires. But let’s not go into my lack of involvement with the human race because then I’ll just feel sorry for myself.
The point is I’m wondering if the passion, the longing I feel from Harry Potter is in any way related to my loneliness (or maybe I’m not really lonely and it just makes me feel lonely). Because really, there are times when I just don’t want to talk to people or hang out or anything. Not because I’m grumpy, but just because). I don’t know. I can’t figure myself out. Maybe I just like having fits of emotion, regardless of whether or not those emotions have any rational ground in my real life.
And I tell my friend on the phone that I would rather have this life, where there is nothing clear-cut, but it is a constant longing with seas of emotions with the world looking different every minute than the bland, dusty Christian experience (wrought with adventure as it is). I think it’s all emotional and I’m a failure as a Christian because I rely too much on emotion and she says, “I don’t think this is about emotion at all because you are trusting God to bring you through. That trust is not based on emotion.” I admit it’s not. She adds that emotion does play a role in our lives as Christians, as one of the factors included in decision making. It’s just not a deciding factor; and I shouldn’t be afraid of it.
So here I am, confused out of my mind and I don’t care. I’m just going to live and I’m going to try my best not to freak out because no new friendships are blossoming and I’m going to try and remember that this is my life and I need to live it as I see fit and not wallow in a world with no future.
And now that I’ve mapped that out in a grand total of ten paragraphs, I’m going to talk about something else. Let’s see…Today I saw the doctor and the UNL student who was helping him said I was “text-book”. This was referring to my symptoms. Apparently what I’ve had since Wednesday is a sinus infection, so now I’m on antibiotics. The UNL guy kept asking me questions and I would misinterpret them (no doubt due to the “text book” sinus pressure in my ears). Like he says, “So you’ve had kidney transplants?”
“Liver,” I say
“Liver…What for?”
“No, I had two.”
“You had two…what caused you to need the transplants?”
“Primary sclerosing cholangitis .”
After that I walked around Walgreens for about half and hour waiting for my prescription. I filled up my cart with Kleenex and other essentials needed at home and then added some Christmas cookies, strawberry jam, a bag of chips (hey people, I was starving), and a clearanced hair serum. I had to put most of it back because I called my mom and she said I could only use the credit card she gave me for the prescription and I’d have to buy the rest with my own credit card, which I know she’s having trouble keeping money on. I got the essentials…and the hair serum. I forgot to get toothpaste. On my way to get the drugs (“Prescription ready for Rebecca Manner!”) I got a horrible cough and added a bottled water to my bill. I told mom sorry, but I don’t think it mattered. Dad isn’t going to care about one extra dollar on my medical expenses credit card. Wow, my life is just so darn exciting.
After sitting like a lazy bum in front of my computer and playing guitar for a few hours I went to see my sister in the one-act play at her school. She has a German accent in it which she does really well. My mom says that when my sister is at home you just want to kill her because she’s mean and messy and totally selfish and then she sort of redeems herself every time a report card comes or she performs one of her many talents. I think my mom is right. I want to hate Ginny, but can’t. She let me drive her car home from the play so I didn’t have to wait around for my ride (I found myself car-less thirty minutes before the play) and I drove it home without my glasses on (I left them at home by accident). It was pretty dangerous I guess. I was driving a car I’d never driven before…blind. I mean, it took me 5 minutes to turn the lights on because I didn’t realize they came on automatically when you took off the brake. Everyone walking past probably thought I looked like an idiot sitting there with the windshield wipers going all different speeds.
I lied to a friend and that lie got bigger and bigger after I hung up the phone because I kept going deeper and deeper into something I said was a shallow love. I said, “It’s not like that anymore because I know the ending and I can let go. Now it’s just a good book.” I suppose there is some truth in that. But really, when I read the 7th book the last time, I didn’t totally surrender to it. Now I have. I don’t regret it. I’m not saying that. And I guess I don’t regret my lie either because there really is no explaining. I best keep it to myself and inject my overflowing passion into outlets where it will not be recognized for what it is. I need to make my passion relevant to my own life because if I don’t then I may as well kill myself; because then I would only be able to focus on that world and never another. I would die of longing and being completely unproductive. Stupid, really. So I have to build my own life around the passion and let the passion seep through the woodwork, manifesting itself in my endeavors.
I suppose that’s kind of what it’s like to be a Christian. But as a Christian most things are clear cut. And does God give you this constant flow of passion, of fire? No, He doesn’t. And things are so clear cut that you can say, “well, there it is, that’s what is going to happen and here’s the map.” And then what is there? Waiting. Being boring. Looking at old, pixilated pictures of fake flowers strewn over an old Bible and thinking, “here’s my world. This must be happiness.” No, sorry. I don’t want it. I want God, sure. I really want God. But there has to be another way.
I want to live with passion, even though it drives me up the wall. Because this Harry Potter mental disease I get…well, I know I’ve been trying to sort out what to do with it, how to make sense of it for eight years. But there has to be some way. It’s on the tip of my mind. But it’s been in the tip of my mind for years. It threatens to drive one crazy if there isn’t redemption of some sort. Usually, instead of redemption I use a band-aid. A band-aid would be a distraction from a less demanding world. I put in a different movie, read a different book. But I feel so completely lonely. Because once I close one of those Harry Potter books, I’ve lost my friends and the fake-reality hits. I don’t have any friends. But that’s not true. I have wonderful friends. But I’m always chasing. I always want something better. And I usually end up embarrassing myself because, let’s face it, my social skills aren’t the best in the world. I have absolutely no figgin idea how to act around people my own age.
And don’t even get me started on boys. I want guy friends. Any male influence would be more than welcome. The male race is as foreign to me as Catholicism to a Seventh - day Adventist. I know about guys, but to the record I currently have only one real, male friend. Seriously. It makes me want to cry. Human beings were meant to be surrounded my both sexes. We’re supposed to have a mom and dad. Than, maybe, we’re supposed to have a brother. Then guy friends. Then a husband. All I know is the world of women and frankly, I’m a bit sick of it.
Okay, so obviously I’m alive which means I must have a father. And I do, of course, but I think I’m better acquainted with my uncles I see once a year than my father. The dad thing is a touchy subject and not one I’m going to talk about right now. I have no brothers (I don’t count my step-brother). I have one guy friend. And, obviously, I’m not married.
I shouldn’t sell anyone short here, though. I do have other guy friends of all ages. But I hardly ever talk to them. They’re not the kind of people I call up on a Saturday night and ask if they want to do something, or text while I’m in the check-out line at Wal-Mart. And I should really stop talking about this because it’s pissing me off more than it should. I give up. I’ve tried, I really have, but I don’t think that the guys like me. Maybe my problem is that I’m just not involved in anything where there are guys. It’s just Unionaires. But let’s not go into my lack of involvement with the human race because then I’ll just feel sorry for myself.
The point is I’m wondering if the passion, the longing I feel from Harry Potter is in any way related to my loneliness (or maybe I’m not really lonely and it just makes me feel lonely). Because really, there are times when I just don’t want to talk to people or hang out or anything. Not because I’m grumpy, but just because). I don’t know. I can’t figure myself out. Maybe I just like having fits of emotion, regardless of whether or not those emotions have any rational ground in my real life.
And I tell my friend on the phone that I would rather have this life, where there is nothing clear-cut, but it is a constant longing with seas of emotions with the world looking different every minute than the bland, dusty Christian experience (wrought with adventure as it is). I think it’s all emotional and I’m a failure as a Christian because I rely too much on emotion and she says, “I don’t think this is about emotion at all because you are trusting God to bring you through. That trust is not based on emotion.” I admit it’s not. She adds that emotion does play a role in our lives as Christians, as one of the factors included in decision making. It’s just not a deciding factor; and I shouldn’t be afraid of it.
So here I am, confused out of my mind and I don’t care. I’m just going to live and I’m going to try my best not to freak out because no new friendships are blossoming and I’m going to try and remember that this is my life and I need to live it as I see fit and not wallow in a world with no future.
And now that I’ve mapped that out in a grand total of ten paragraphs, I’m going to talk about something else. Let’s see…Today I saw the doctor and the UNL student who was helping him said I was “text-book”. This was referring to my symptoms. Apparently what I’ve had since Wednesday is a sinus infection, so now I’m on antibiotics. The UNL guy kept asking me questions and I would misinterpret them (no doubt due to the “text book” sinus pressure in my ears). Like he says, “So you’ve had kidney transplants?”
“Liver,” I say
“Liver…What for?”
“No, I had two.”
“You had two…what caused you to need the transplants?”
“Primary sclerosing cholangitis .”
After that I walked around Walgreens for about half and hour waiting for my prescription. I filled up my cart with Kleenex and other essentials needed at home and then added some Christmas cookies, strawberry jam, a bag of chips (hey people, I was starving), and a clearanced hair serum. I had to put most of it back because I called my mom and she said I could only use the credit card she gave me for the prescription and I’d have to buy the rest with my own credit card, which I know she’s having trouble keeping money on. I got the essentials…and the hair serum. I forgot to get toothpaste. On my way to get the drugs (“Prescription ready for Rebecca Manner!”) I got a horrible cough and added a bottled water to my bill. I told mom sorry, but I don’t think it mattered. Dad isn’t going to care about one extra dollar on my medical expenses credit card. Wow, my life is just so darn exciting.
After sitting like a lazy bum in front of my computer and playing guitar for a few hours I went to see my sister in the one-act play at her school. She has a German accent in it which she does really well. My mom says that when my sister is at home you just want to kill her because she’s mean and messy and totally selfish and then she sort of redeems herself every time a report card comes or she performs one of her many talents. I think my mom is right. I want to hate Ginny, but can’t. She let me drive her car home from the play so I didn’t have to wait around for my ride (I found myself car-less thirty minutes before the play) and I drove it home without my glasses on (I left them at home by accident). It was pretty dangerous I guess. I was driving a car I’d never driven before…blind. I mean, it took me 5 minutes to turn the lights on because I didn’t realize they came on automatically when you took off the brake. Everyone walking past probably thought I looked like an idiot sitting there with the windshield wipers going all different speeds.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Just FYI
Um, so my profile is really confusing me and probably some other people. I'm in the "in-between" again. The "deciding not to decide". If you've read my old blogs from you know I went through an 8 month period of basically not being a Christian. Kinda. It's not that I didn't believe in God, not that I didn't pray. I was just...doing things that I wouldn't have done before. So here I am again, with Harry Potter and Ellen White's books right next to each other on the BOOKS section of my profile. I kinda drive myself crazy sometimes.
Basically, all my old blogs are now relevant. I pretty much feel the same way. It's funny, as a true Christian I cannot, for the life of me, understand the stuff I wrote when I wasn't being very Christ-like. But right now I can't, for the life of me, understand the stuff I wrote while being a true Christian.
Ya know, I hate being 20-almost-21 sometimes. I had a couple nights in a row where I had dreams that guys I knew were asking me out and I had to sit them down and explain that I was a kind of moody, unpredictable, sometimes flaky person. As much as it would be cool to have a boyfriend, I'd have to warn anyone expressing intrest that I'm kinda crazy. But maybe all girls are like that. I dunno. But what can I say? I'm an artist! And Italian, I might add.
Basically, all my old blogs are now relevant. I pretty much feel the same way. It's funny, as a true Christian I cannot, for the life of me, understand the stuff I wrote when I wasn't being very Christ-like. But right now I can't, for the life of me, understand the stuff I wrote while being a true Christian.
Ya know, I hate being 20-almost-21 sometimes. I had a couple nights in a row where I had dreams that guys I knew were asking me out and I had to sit them down and explain that I was a kind of moody, unpredictable, sometimes flaky person. As much as it would be cool to have a boyfriend, I'd have to warn anyone expressing intrest that I'm kinda crazy. But maybe all girls are like that. I dunno. But what can I say? I'm an artist! And Italian, I might add.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007
Faith Instead of a Warning
Dear God,
I'm writing You this letter because I'm a coward, I guess. I'm afraid of what might happen if I were to kneel and pray (though I must admit that there is fear in my heart just from writing this). I'm afraid that something horrible might happen. I dunno, maybe I'd be struck down, or maybe I'd just start crying and then get angry and, well…let the spiritual warfare commence.
But I'm here, God. I'm here. I answered You call on my heart. You showed me in a glimpse my position. You've warned me against going further. But I still don't want to be a Christian. I want God, not religion.
Why do I keep tiring myself out? What am I doing wrong? I guess I don't love You as much as I think I do. Please, God, teach me to love You so much that it is a joy to obey. Teach me to love You so much that I do not grow weary. Teach me to survive here. Because seriously, at this rate I'm going to hell.
I'll be doing so well, I'll be on fire and in love with You and then it seems like overnight I change. The temptation becomes strong. I compromise. I make some choices. Before I know it, I'm back to my old ways. Without a twinge of conscience. Dear God, help me. It seems I can't live without a longing. I'm not satisfied with being satisfied.
Obviously You know me better than I do because I thought I was fine. Evidently something in my heart wasn't right. But really, God, could You give me some warning? Guess not…guess You gave me faith instead.
Can't I be different? Do I have to be a clone?
Psalm 38:1-12, 16-22
O LORD, rebuke me not in Your wrath, And chasten me not in Your burning anger.
For Your arrows have sunk deep into me, And Your hand has pressed down on me.
There is no soundness in my flesh because of Your indignation; There is no health in my bones because of my sin.
For my iniquities are gone over my head; As a heavy burden they weigh too much for me.
My wounds grow foul {and} fester Because of my folly.
I am bent over and greatly bowed down; I go mourning all day long.
For my loins are filled with burning, And there is no soundness in my flesh.
I am benumbed and badly crushed; I groan because of the agitation of my heart.
Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You.
My heart throbs, my strength fails me; And the light of my eyes, even that has gone from me.
My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague; And my kinsmen stand afar off.
Those who seek my life lay snares {for me;} And those who seek to injure me have threatened destruction, And they devise treachery all day long.
…
For I said, "May they not rejoice over me, {Who,} when my foot slips, would magnify themselves against me."
For I am ready to fall, And my sorrow is continually before me.
For I confess my iniquity; I am full of anxiety because of my sin.
But my enemies are vigorous {and} strong, And many are those who hate me wrongfully.
And those who repay evil for good, They oppose me, because I follow what is good
Do not forsake me, O LORD; O my God, do not be far from me!
Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation!
Psalm 39:10-13
Remove Your plague from me; Because of the opposition of Your hand I am perishing.
With reproofs You chasten a man for iniquity; You consume as a moth what is precious to him; Surely every man is a mere breath. Selah.
Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry; Do not be silent at my tears; For I am a stranger with You, A sojourner like all my fathers.
Turn Your gaze away from me, that I may smile {again} Before I depart and am no more."
Lithium
by Evanescence
Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...
Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.
Oh, but God, I want to let it go
.Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone.
Couldn't hide the emptiness, you let it show.
Never wanted it to be so cold.
Just didn't drink enough to say you love me.
I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.
Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...Lithium,
I want to stay in love with my sorrow.
Don't want to let it lay me down this time.
Drown my will to fly.Here in the darkness I know myself.
Can't break free until I let it go.
Let me go.
Darling, I forgive you after all.
Anything is better than to be alone.
And in the end I guess I had to fall.
Always find my place among the ashes.
I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.
Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...Lithium,
...stay in love with my sorrow.I'm gonna let it go.
Bad Dream
By Keane
(excerpts)
Why do I have to flyover every town up and down the line?
I'll die in the clouds above
and you that I defend, I do not love.
I wake up, it's a bad dream,
No one on my side,I was fighting
But I just feel too tiredto be fighting,
guess I'm not the fighting kind.
Where will I meet my fate?
Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate.
And when will I meet my end?
Where do we go?
I don't even know,
My strange old face,
And I'm thinking about those days,
And I'm thinking about those days.
I'm writing You this letter because I'm a coward, I guess. I'm afraid of what might happen if I were to kneel and pray (though I must admit that there is fear in my heart just from writing this). I'm afraid that something horrible might happen. I dunno, maybe I'd be struck down, or maybe I'd just start crying and then get angry and, well…let the spiritual warfare commence.
But I'm here, God. I'm here. I answered You call on my heart. You showed me in a glimpse my position. You've warned me against going further. But I still don't want to be a Christian. I want God, not religion.
Why do I keep tiring myself out? What am I doing wrong? I guess I don't love You as much as I think I do. Please, God, teach me to love You so much that it is a joy to obey. Teach me to love You so much that I do not grow weary. Teach me to survive here. Because seriously, at this rate I'm going to hell.
I'll be doing so well, I'll be on fire and in love with You and then it seems like overnight I change. The temptation becomes strong. I compromise. I make some choices. Before I know it, I'm back to my old ways. Without a twinge of conscience. Dear God, help me. It seems I can't live without a longing. I'm not satisfied with being satisfied.
Obviously You know me better than I do because I thought I was fine. Evidently something in my heart wasn't right. But really, God, could You give me some warning? Guess not…guess You gave me faith instead.
Can't I be different? Do I have to be a clone?
Psalm 38:1-12, 16-22
O LORD, rebuke me not in Your wrath, And chasten me not in Your burning anger.
For Your arrows have sunk deep into me, And Your hand has pressed down on me.
There is no soundness in my flesh because of Your indignation; There is no health in my bones because of my sin.
For my iniquities are gone over my head; As a heavy burden they weigh too much for me.
My wounds grow foul {and} fester Because of my folly.
I am bent over and greatly bowed down; I go mourning all day long.
For my loins are filled with burning, And there is no soundness in my flesh.
I am benumbed and badly crushed; I groan because of the agitation of my heart.
Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You.
My heart throbs, my strength fails me; And the light of my eyes, even that has gone from me.
My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague; And my kinsmen stand afar off.
Those who seek my life lay snares {for me;} And those who seek to injure me have threatened destruction, And they devise treachery all day long.
…
For I said, "May they not rejoice over me, {Who,} when my foot slips, would magnify themselves against me."
For I am ready to fall, And my sorrow is continually before me.
For I confess my iniquity; I am full of anxiety because of my sin.
But my enemies are vigorous {and} strong, And many are those who hate me wrongfully.
And those who repay evil for good, They oppose me, because I follow what is good
Do not forsake me, O LORD; O my God, do not be far from me!
Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation!
Psalm 39:10-13
Remove Your plague from me; Because of the opposition of Your hand I am perishing.
With reproofs You chasten a man for iniquity; You consume as a moth what is precious to him; Surely every man is a mere breath. Selah.
Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry; Do not be silent at my tears; For I am a stranger with You, A sojourner like all my fathers.
Turn Your gaze away from me, that I may smile {again} Before I depart and am no more."
Lithium
by Evanescence
Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...
Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.
Oh, but God, I want to let it go
.Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone.
Couldn't hide the emptiness, you let it show.
Never wanted it to be so cold.
Just didn't drink enough to say you love me.
I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.
Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...Lithium,
I want to stay in love with my sorrow.
Don't want to let it lay me down this time.
Drown my will to fly.Here in the darkness I know myself.
Can't break free until I let it go.
Let me go.
Darling, I forgive you after all.
Anything is better than to be alone.
And in the end I guess I had to fall.
Always find my place among the ashes.
I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.
Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...Lithium,
...stay in love with my sorrow.I'm gonna let it go.
Bad Dream
By Keane
(excerpts)
Why do I have to flyover every town up and down the line?
I'll die in the clouds above
and you that I defend, I do not love.
I wake up, it's a bad dream,
No one on my side,I was fighting
But I just feel too tiredto be fighting,
guess I'm not the fighting kind.
Where will I meet my fate?
Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate.
And when will I meet my end?
Where do we go?
I don't even know,
My strange old face,
And I'm thinking about those days,
And I'm thinking about those days.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Getting Ready For Sabbath: Observations
The pre-Sabbath rat cage cleaning is made difficut by heathen fuzzies. Somebody, I still don't know who, stole a box of my Junior Mints. I just happened to hear them rattling the box under my bed. So there I am on the floor with my head stuck under the bed yelling at who knows which rat, "GIMMIE MY CHOCOLATE!!!". Francis and some other rat came over, obviously trying to distract me, and started grooming my face with zeal. I tried to fight them off, but eventually I just had to pull out the bed to get to my mints. I hope God knows what I go through to get ready for Sabbath....*sigh*Meanwhile...why in the world is Greenpeace sending me address labels with whales on them? Being a vet tech/animal welfare activist is like being an Adventist: you end up recycling a lot of useless paper you get in the mail. Bah, it's sunny outside. I ain't gonna sit in front of my computer writing a pointless blog. Toddles!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
