Purposeful Wanderings

Jesus Advisory

2010-09-16T17:44:00.000-07:00

There really should be a warning outside of all churches: "Real devotion to God will rip your heart out of your chest and splatter it all over the ground". Then upon giving your life completely over to God, you will have at least been warned.

You know I was thinking, we sing these songs in church about "complete surrender" and "giving your will over to God" and "trusting and knowing". How in the world do we sing these songs so calmly?! How are we not running toward to doors everytime we sing those words?

I recently moved across the country to Texas. To a town in which I know no one. Well, almost no one. To a place in my life that is lonely every single day. To a place that literally feels like it's just me and God. How comfy, how cozy, right? No, how hellish. God is cool and all, but let's be honest. Trusting him with my EVERYTHING?? No way.

You see, I am an exceptionally relational person. My life is one big dance of relationships. And my favorite kind are the boyfriend-girlfriend kind. I can't wait to get married. I can't wait to commit to one person for the rest of my life. I can't wait, even after everyone telling me that it's the hardest thing you can ever do. And, ironically, the guy I thought I was going to marry is no longer my boyfriend. And you know what I have to do with that? TURN IT OVER TO GOD. That's pretty much the last thing I want to do. I want to fix it. I want to make it happen. I want CONTROL. I hate not knowing the future. But I did this silly little thing...I told God I would give Him all of me. And I meant it. Down to the one thing I cling to and run from whenever He asks for it- my relationships.

So here I am. In a place I don't know, with people I don't know, at a job I don't know how to do, and fighting everyday to not take control of it all. It's by far the hardest thing I have ever done. No one told me how gut-wrenching this would be. You know, I don't know what open-heart surgery without anesthesia feels like, but I'm betting this is close to it. Letting God rip out the desire, the need to control this relationship...learning to trust him, to SURRENDER to Him...I cry out everyday. I can't do this. This is beyond me. This hurts too damn much. The only thing that keeps me from slamming the door on Him and running the other way is a tiny hope that it will be worth it. I sure hope so.

Pennsylvania Summer

2010-08-12T16:55:00.000-07:00

That summer evening the air was just how I like it. Breezy, cool. It had just rained. It was evening and the sun was setting. On the side of the farm the sky was yellow, blue, pink…another summer sunset in Pennsylvania. “Not too many more of these” I thought to myself. I stood in the air and let it surround me. I closed my blue eyes and felt the breeze whisper over my pale skin. My skin bristled as it felt the chill of the damp evening air. It smelled like summer rain. It smelled like freshness. A fresh start. I opened my eyes and looked around, nostalgically. This is my home. This is where I had my first kiss, where I learned to drive, where I toiled in my “teen angst” and had my first heartbreak. This is where I went off to college, where I learned and matured. And this is where I am leaving. Leaving the air that I know so well. The people I have grown to love. Off on another adventure. I heard Him then like a bird miles off, song trailing in the wind. Inaudible but penetrating my heart. “You have yourself now. You have your independence. Fall into it”. I felt no confusion, no resistance. I knew what it meant. It meant this time was mine. To explore, to try life, to succeed or fail of my own accord. To cut my hair, dye my hair, get a tattoo, buy a car, and paint the walls of my (imaginary) house any color I wanted. This was the life I fought for as a teenager. And now, standing barefoot in the wet grass it took everything in me not to run away.

COFFEE ADDICTS UNITE!

2010-03-23T14:24:00.001-07:00

Holla to my fellow coffee addicts. I wrote this poem for a friend at college who is equally addicted to coffee as I am and I thought I would share it!

ODE TO COFFEE
By Brittany O'Reilly:

Coffee, you are oh so cool
When I see you, I want to drool.
I'm so in love I'm actin a fool.
If I saw you drowning I would jump into the pool.
Like air, you are my living tool.
You are the only reason I'm passing school.
You and you alone are my goal. Let's roll.

Sex, Would You Mind Leaving the Room for Like Ten Seconds?

2010-03-17T17:45:00.000-07:00

I just left Border’s Book Store in King of Prussia. I just left the ‘ love’ section of Borders. I left, also, with a feeling of how far off track our society, my generation, and myself have all become with our perceptions of love. Granted, I am not married so I only have so much insight into this crazy phenomena called love, but I have had enough broken hearts and made enough mistakes to feel at least remotely qualified to make a comment or two.

First of all, the love section at this Border’s Express was about a 6 foot wide section; there were many books. I was slightly taken aback to realize that 90% of these books focused entirely on positions, technique, and “The Top 1,000 Places in America to Have Sex”. Maybe 10% of the books had some mention of emotional connection, sharing intimacy without sex, or the actual process of “falling in love”. I had just read a New York Times article on what it means to be a man in a “hypersexualized culture”, an article written by a man with prostate cancer. It came to mind as I realized that there is very little recognition of “manhood” in America outside of the stereotypes. All Christian teaching aside, I couldn’t believe that only a few books had any remote recognition of emotions or feelings (other than pleasure) or even more importantly the feelings of your significant other.

I think intimacy, sex, love, partnership, and marriage are all extremely tricky subjects. I only have experience with a few of those, so I’m not sure how accurate my opinions are. But, in recently talking to someone about the potential benefits of taking sex out of an already established sexual relationship, I thought more and more about what true intimacy is. Sex runs ridiculously rampant in our culture; there is no need for cleavage in a dish-soap commercial (especially, let’s admit it, since women are usually the ones washing the dishes and using the dish-soap), yet it is everywhere we turn. I started thinking about how scary it is to be TRULY vulnerable with someone and that contrary to what church has been telling me since I was about 9, it is often times much easier to be sexually intimate with someone than it is to bear your soul to them and trust that they will be there in the end. For my generation in particular, the generation in which some 65% of girls have had sex by the time they are 17, I wonder what would happen if we slowed down right now and re-trained our brains. What if, regardless of any past “mistakes” we may have made (which, really…who gets to determine if it is a mistake or simply a foolish choice that will later greatly help someone who needs someone who has been in that exact situation) we all decided to focus on TRUE intimacy. And to be honest, I don’t even really know what that would look like. Maybe, instead of trying to placate or fix things with sex, we tried to open up and say with gentle words what is really on our minds. Or, what if instead of falling into bed, two unmarried people spent more time cooking together, or playing video games together, or trying to train a puppy together. It doesn’t seem to me that it has to always be drastic (not everyone has to substitute sex for volunteering at a soup kitchen), but I think starting somewhere would be awesome.

Again, all of this may be crazy or dumb or way off track…I can’t say; afterall, I have no rock on my left hand. But I do have engaged or married friends and I have parents. And I just think it seems like a good idea. Who knows.

New York Times article: http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9C07E1DC133AF935A25751C0A9669D8B63

Don Miller, You Have My Attention

2010-02-13T18:12:00.000-08:00

There are a few things in life that I think are underrated. Among these are: the power of an apology, Jolly Ranchers, waves on a beach, and those moments we have that are the proverbial “fork in the road”. I just got that fork in the form of a phone call. Well you see my friends, I have been offered really the chance of a lifetime…a trip to El Salvador to work in an orphanage with children of prostitutes. Did I mention I work at a crisis pregnancy center in Kennett Square and my sole responsibility is translating? Did I mention I have a well-known soft spot for women in abusive or difficult relationships? Did I mention I would be translating on this trip? God really has some crazy plans. So I stand at this cross-roads, nervously shifting my weight back and forth from foot to foot. Up until now the idea has seemed perfect; well it is perfect. But now reality hit: El Salvador isn’t the safest country, my Aryan nature probably won’t fit in very well, what if the women don’t accept me, it’s a costly trip, I need to find a job after graduation...well, you see the pattern. Not so coincidentally I have been reading Don Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. He talks about creating good stories with our lives- that to create good stories we have to do those things that scare us, and do the things that seem just a little crazy. If I give up this opportunity because I’m a little scared, I won’t be living a good story. I’ll be living a pretty darn wimpy story. And when my kids ask “Mommy, what did you after you graduated college?” I think they will think their Mom is “wicked awesome and cool” if I say “I hopped a plane to a not-so-safe country and hung out and chatted in Spanish with some awesome kids” rather than “I took the first safe job that came along to have health insurance and feed my weekly Starbucks addiction”. And let’s be honest, if my kids are anything like me, they won’t be afraid to tell their Mommy she was living a pretty boring story. So, here’s to adventure, a little fear, and celebrating an underrated life moment!

Don't Run With Judgmental Words, Someone Could Get Hurt

2010-02-11T16:55:00.000-08:00

In the quiet of our rooms God hears us. He hears as we silently weep over mistakes made and innocence lost. He grieves as our hearts break for our own sin. It is my desperate belief that He sees us, pains with us, and somehow cradles us in His infinite mercy.

It is my newly discovered realization that we have absolutely no idea what those among us are going through. Each of us is already dealing with, maybe at the breaking point, of looking in the face our own shortcomings. Imagine this: a girl holding it all together, realizing her whole life has been a walk down the wrong road. Thousands of tears shed over the pain of her sin, hundreds of times wishing she could take it all back. Imagine now that in the midst of this she hears over and over the judgmental, narrow-minded responses etched in the minds of many holy others. She feels defeated, hopeless, like an utter failure and well beyond repair. Broken and needy she comes to the mirror every day, dealing with her own shame and guilt. No one needs guilt and shame piled on by others when they already have a mountain of their own.

It could be yours that is the judgment that makes her give up. It could be my insensitive comment that causes her to break down. Who are we to judge others when we have no idea what their deepest aches and regrets are? Why not be more like Him? Why not hear one another? Let our hearts grieve and not judge. Let us just be with others. Even cradle them in mercy. Why not hear the words they can’t say…the whispers and silent cries we utter in the quiet of our rooms.

Hey Life, I Think I'm A Grown Up Now??

2009-10-13T11:25:00.000-07:00

I recently turned 21- a big deal to those under the age of 21. I spent the subsequent months tossing back shots of freedom and regurgitating statements of independence. Legally, I can now do pretty much everything...with I think the exception of renting a car. The relationship between my parents and I has shifted from parent-child to friends. The only problem is that no one warned me about the downside of all this freedom. I am now solely responsible for every decision that I make. If for some reason I make a wrong one, the blame can only be placed on me (kind of a scary feeling). I have also felt a strange shift in my relationship with my Mom. What once was completely normal telling her everything and all the gory details, now seems that I should learn to keep some personal details to myself; to make my own decisions based only on my own perspectives. Feeling all that responsiblity has somehow lead to asking hundreds of opinions on any remotely big issue, which if you have ever done, is entirely paralyzing. In thinking about this the other day, it made me smile at the ironic nature of life. An event that one thinks will bring whole freedom can simultaneously bring more challenges and pressures. The transitional, even paradoxical nature of life helps to keep me smiling :)

Welcome Back to Civilization, Take a Rock

2009-09-10T16:47:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I know it has been a long time since I have updated this. I keep telling people I'm "too busy"...in all actuality I am (extremely ironically) embodying a kindrid spirit from some book of the Bible in my efforts to hide from God. That, I may add, is a task that I'm not sure even James Bond could accomplish. Here's the deal my friends...I am at a total loss for what exactly I believe leading consequently to a rather poignant confusion as to esentially who I am, which kind of hinders the writing process. As you can see then, I have no deep or relatively unsolvable issues on my mind. I am currently a senior at Eastern University and until very recently was wholly unaware of exactly how little I know. Apparently I am graduating knowing way less than I did entering college. As a personal form of punishment, I voluntarily took a class called "Theology of Culture". This may sound like fun and games to the untrained eye, but I assure you that debating life and God with a bunch of b**s**ing youth ministry majors is about as enjoyable as having bamboo shoved under your nicely manicured fingernails. So picture this...it's the first day of class and we (we being 15 triple- major-biblical studies-youth ministry-theology boys and me, a Spanish major clad head to toe in pink) go around the room to say why we are taking the class. The other 15 answers sound something like "I am looking to expand my faith with the knowledge of our heavenly trinitarian God in a way that without this class I would have no possible way of obtaining, I have come to the conclusion that Eastern Orthodox is the supreme denomination, and I am yearning for someone with the vast knowledge that you, Professor Awesome, have to teach me about being a (I would use another word here) Christian". BLEH! Can we at least get some variety here, boys? Then there's me. My answer went something like "After almost 4 years at this school I'm tired of hearing the same trite b**s** in every class and I want some real answers. Oh, did I mention I am going through a crisis of faith and want all of you to stop lying and padding the answers and get me to actually believe in God with facts?". I'm pretty sure they were expecting my head to spin around after that. You could see them picking the stones up out of their bags to begin the process that, biblically, my reaction waranted. Welcome to day one of Theo337. Join us every Tuesday and Thursday for our new program "Who Gets to Stone the Heretic". No, just kidding...about that last part.
So there it is, all out and open. I am totally lost in my faith right now, which somehow, in some inexplicable way, leads me to also be entirely stranded in my writing. Nothing seems to fit what exactly I am feeling.
Next time though, things will be much lighter. I mean, anything has to be up from being the campus "atheist", right?

I'm In No Hurry

2009-04-22T01:05:00.000-07:00

I feel my legs running.
But now I don't flee, I'm just free.
I hear my voice shouting.
But not out of fear, just so you can hear
my new song and see my new dance.
It is the song of a child:
laughter, joy, and peace.
It is the dance of a girl:
twirling, running, and release.
Somewhere in the ocean
or along the waves of the sea;
This is where you can find my new motion,
Where you can see me finally just be ME.

Meetings with my Savior

2009-04-06T07:57:00.000-07:00

"Let Go"

I’ve been down roads no one should have to go.
I’ve made in others tears like a river flow.
Great has been my shame
And only I have been to blame.

Recognize.
Realize.
Apologize.
Then
Exercise the power of letting go.

I’ve learned which paths lead to tears.
I’ve built bridges over those rives to mend the years.
Birthed out of shame has been humility,
And a reason to yearn for accountability.

With every darkness comes a new light.
With every loss comes a new reason to continue the fight.
When in myself the depths of my depravity I see,
Only then can I begin to be set free.

Restoration

2009-04-06T07:56:00.000-07:00

"Coming Home"

There was a soft glow coming from under the shallow crack between the end of the big oak door and the beginning of the blue tile floor. It had been a while since she ventured to the other side of that door. Not much remained to entice her, with the exception of a few tired pictures and one or two old pairs of shoes, still left next to the dresser by the closet. She just never felt the urge to open that door anymore. I suppose it would be better said that she was too ashamed to open that door again. Not after where she had been…
And now here she was, in a long-suppressed place thinking back on all the twists and turns she had taken in her path. But the door that stood before her like the ominous presence of an angry lover assured her that she hadn’t imagined it all. Taking one wary step forward, then another, and finally another until she stood squarely in the face of this solid oak division, she placed a firm hand on the doorknob and turned it cautiously. The creaking noise sent a violent chill down her spine; she released the knob immediately. It wasn’t the right time; she needed to do so much before she would be prepared to enter the room. And for what reason was she interested in forging back into that room anyway? Was it not simply a dark, cold room filled with musty air and the muffled cries of a shrieking heart? Somewhere within her, the light was speaking to her and whispering that things could be different. Dark rooms could become light and cold rooms become warm. But not on their own. So, who then, she wondered, was working in the other room?
After a few days the light seemed only to be growing stronger. Without hesitation she opened the door and confidently walked into the transformed room that still stood as an irrefutable symbol of moments past. She took in the scene around her, dizzy with both joy and pain. Everything seemed restored and refurbished; even the windows were clear and clean. But there was one element that caught her eye more than any of the others. There, in the middle of the room seemingly staring her in the face, was the stake in her heart. It looked more beautiful than she had ever remembered, with blue and gold sheets replacing the old ones. Light tears streamed down her face as she dropped humbly to her knees. In the weakness of her awe all she managed to mutter was “restore me”.

Poema en español

2009-03-25T05:57:00.000-07:00

Last weekend my friends and I went to Granada. On the bus ride home I was reading a book for my lit class and was daydreaming about the characters in the story and their grand declarations of love to their "queridos" (loved ones). Then I was thinking about a kind of really profound love that I still have yet to experience. I decided to try to write a poem in Spanish trying to capture what I think that feeling would be like. I guess it´s the hopeless romantic in me :) Soooo here is the outcome of that thought.

"Un amor prfundo"

Estoy aquí,
muriendo sin tí.
No puedo negar más
que ahora sé cuanto me amas.
Y no puedo respirar,
como si mi corazón va a parar.
Eres lo único para mí
y quiero ser tuyo hasta el fin.
En el mundo, no hay suficiente años
para terminar el amor entre nosotros.
Te amo,
te amaré,
y nunca se acabo.

For those of you who do not speak this lovely language, here is a rough translation:

"A profound love"

I am here
dying without you.
I can´t deny anymore
that now I know how much you love me.
And I can´t breathe,
as if my heart is going to stop.
You are the only one for me
and I want to be yours until the end.
In the whole world there are not enough years
to end the love between us.
I love you,
I will love you,
and it will never end.

I couldn´t maintain the rhyme when I translated it, but that´s the rough idea :)

Bendita la luz

2009-02-15T23:27:00.000-08:00

I was thinking today as I was cleaning my room in SPAIN (ahhhh!!) about the transformative powers of our Creator. The sun was shining through my open window illuminating the whole room and it made me think about the way that God, if we allow Him, at times illuminates our minds and souls. It can be similarly refreshing and comforting as when a cool breeze flows through the curtains and dances along with the rays of the sun.

“Renewal”
She is new; never been like this before.
There is a calm she can’t help but adore.
Strong, independent, daring;
Purposely she shows that she is caring.

She is out of the box; no one can put her back again.
There is color in her world that she has decided to let reign.
Laughter, smiles, gentle words;
These are the rulers of her world.

She has found her place; so long had she been searching.
There is comfort and tranquility in this place He is working.
Precious, beautiful, sacred;
Effortlessly these are the thoughts that fill her head.

Many the Miles

2008-12-11T16:03:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is my last final for the fall semester. That is exciting, right?! Well yes, and no. That also means that the next finals I take will be in Spain (and yes, I will blog from Spain). God and I have been having an interesting time lately. He has been pushing me toward ideas that I never would have ever given second thought to. The latest one of these, and one that I tossed at my Mom today was the thought that God may want me to live in a foreign country for some time- and maybe more than the next semester. Ever since I was little I have had this insane passion for Spanish language and culture. My parents jokingly called me the "South American Queen" when I memorized all of the countries and capitals in South America as a 7 year old. So, this passion is well-entrenched. I was listening to a song by Sara Bareilles today (I do my best thinking listening to music) and I felt engulfed in the words. She is not a Christian singer, but check out these lyrics to her song "Many the Miles"--she sings:

"Red letter day and I'm in a blue mood
Wishing that blue would just carry me away
I've been talking to God
don't knowIf it's helping or not
But surely something has got to got to got to give
Cause i can't keep waiting to live.
How far do I have to go to get to you?
Many the miles. Send me the miles
and I'll be happy to follow you love"

This really challenged me to accept whatever plans that He has for me because I should know that whatever He has in store for me is greater than anything I could ever imagine. If this means leaving my family and loved ones behind to pursue a calling in a foreign land (how very Biblical, no?) then I should trust and obey and be "happy to follow You Love".
It's awesome how God can use a totally unrelated thing to get my attention.
I love his lack of subtelty sometimes :)

The Vacuum God

2008-11-09T11:42:00.000-08:00

Today I was vacuuming my [teeny] dorm room and I was thinking about our Christian lives in relation to a vacuum. (the cleaning kind, not the black hole kind). The vacuum that we have in our room is so small it's more like a mechanized dust pan. It barely does the job, and I find myself picking up leaves well after I am done cleaning, or going over the same spot multiple times, only to find the same cluster of dirt in that spot ten minutes later.
It seems to me that even those Christians who are doing their very best to do what God asks of them, and esentially "clean up" the mess that is their human life, we consistenly have to go back to pick up that same leaf that never wants to leave (no pun intended ;)) In this dorm room that represents my whole world, God is my industrial-strength vacuum. What I spend my entire life toiling over to change, He takes one run over it with His vacuum and it is gone. It made me stop and think how foolish I am for thinking that by my own will or desire I can change things within myself that, if I am totally honest, will never change if I don't turn them TOTALLY over to God and allow His grace to change me and shape me.
How much simpler cleaning my life would be if I just let God do it for me :).

Hope Dawns

2008-10-30T20:06:00.000-07:00

I sit in the stillness of a new dawn.
The thoughts on the horizon glisten in the quietness that surrounds them.
Hope pours from the sky in rays of light
that break through even the darkest cloud.
The creatures of nature sing their songs, encouraging the smile to rise over the trees.
In this moment I am free from myself.
A strong wind breathes around me,
and my spirit returns to life.

Winding Roads

2008-10-25T20:41:00.000-07:00

I drove for miles and miles and I don’t know what to say
Beauty on the outside, inside more confused than today.
Sunday morning and still I’m calling
Foolishness, deliver me from yet another play.

Open up your blue eyes, read the writing in the clear skies,
Close them now, be still, and remember long-lost lies.
Keep yourself in tact, yet another day free-falling
Into the world where at least someone tries.

I never let it get this far, somehow my heart let you in too far.
I can’t loose my grip on hope or get myself out of this car.
Onto the floor, all our pictures I’m sprawling
Scared and not knowing who or what we are.

Raw

2008-10-21T08:32:00.000-07:00

So, I have been sitting here for roughly 40 minutes picking and choosing a piece to put on here, yet none of them seem "finished" or "appropriate". Again, I refer you to my first entry- anyone see a fear of failure or judgment in not finding a piece suitable to post? Anyways, I found this one that was written during a time of pretty raw emotion. Actually, let's not sugarcoat it- I was downright depressed when I wrote this. So I decided there is probably no better way to overcome this fear than to put a very personal piece on here. But I think there are some redeeming qualities, so hopefully it won't be too much of a Debbie Downer :). This selection is in reference to the experience of facing my own self-centeredness. Ironic, right?

There it was. That great ache in my body that penetrated deep down into my bones. It was a kind of pseudo-depression that threatened to break free with even the slightest prompting. I liken it to what I hear women who are pregnant experience; when you feel the urge to cry for no specific reason and not sure if you can handle any external negativity. My eyes felt heavy and confused, my mind cloudy and unsure. Even the length of my stride seemed to shorten in fear that it might get ahead of itself. But He was there, in that overwhelming, ‘I-can’t-deal-with-you-now’, kind of presence. The last thing I felt I needed was some perfectly Supreme being lording his righteousness over me. After a while, I realized that she was there too. It had been a while since I had seen her, but across the room, in a murky shadow by the window, she sat with her back to me. And then I knew that it would be a while..
It would have been wonderful to turn and run for the door; don’t think I didn’t try it. But there is only so far you can run when you know what the right thing is. So we sat and talked. First I talked to Him. I told him that I was afraid. No, I was petrified of being alone. And of being forgotten. Then the tears started. I didn’t even know why I was crying! But I was- giant, wet, full tears that seemed to get heavier and faster as I spoke. He asked me why, and I replied ‘because I’m a wreck’ somewhat sarcastically. Apparently she felt this was a good time to interject. In the overbearing way that came too naturally to her, she barged in to explain why I wasn’t a mess and why I had every right to do what I wanted, in the timing that I wanted. There was an anger in her voice that seemed so raw, but so scared at the same time. He listened patiently as she pleaded her case, and then turned his attention back to me. ‘Why do you fear being forgotten?’ he gently inquired. My response was slow and deliberate, if a bit shameful: ‘because I am proud, and I need to be the center of attention with a lot more people than I realize. I need to feel their validation by being their topic of conversation.’ And then it made a little more sense. How could a single wedding send me into such a tailspin? Because I would not be the focus of conversation among people whom I need to be validated by. Someone else might be seen as prettier than I am. Someone else may be perceived as more worthy of love from their boyfriend. Someone else would be sharing all of the wonderful things happening in their life that weren’t happening in mine. And someone else would be the center of attention. I suddenly felt sick. When did I get this self-absorbed when I thought I was making progress? Interrupting my thoughts was the shrill voice of an indignant girl: ‘It’s not your fault! You can’t help how you feel…it just is what it is. Stop caring so much about fixing it!’ I tried to be patient as He had been with her, but I couldn’t. I felt my own humility slipping away, and that deep, agonizing depression-anger taking its place.

A First Post

2008-10-20T17:39:00.000-07:00

It's fall, and with the changing of leaves I figured it might be time to change that part of me that doesn't take risks for fear of failure and judgment. Ergo, the blog. You know those little inklings you get that The Big Guy wants you to do something, but you brush it off because you can rationalize it away? Well, I have been doing that in regard to doing anything further with my writing than just scribbling in a notebook. So here is the first step toward something with which I am not intimately familiar: obediance. Hope He likes it.