Stability and Eternity.

"Sometimes rain that's needed, falls."

A wave of liquid joy cascades and
fills me and then I am
overflowed
heat and excitement and
shivering ice and
eyes closed and
belonging and
safe and yes,
love.
I can finally say.
Certainty and
life and
love.

In the Thick of It.

"The loudest thing in my head."

Oh how I long to
crash again
the scratches of paper
coming
from my pen
let me go
let me go
how I long to
feel again
scratching through the
surface with
the bits of hard
pine
let me go
let me go
how I long to
break again,
throwing and crying and screaming and
complete
and
utter
and
wild
and
unnameable
and
unfathomable
feeling
how I long to be alive.
How I long to die -
to feel every moment like
static electricity
shooting painfully
and oh so beautifully through my fingers
let me go
let me go
out into the woods where
the sky calls my name
and I'm alone and surrounded
and the wind can pick me up
and take me where it wills--
I'll run
I'll run and fly and
I'll run and fly so fast that
neither life nor death can
hold
me
and
I'll rip a hole in the sky with my teeth
and
breathe the atmosphere
and
finally be able to regain my
soul
life
seeing with my eyes closed
and
everything is too close and too
far
let me go
let me go
the gray dawn is never enough
but
I don't have the courage to take my finger from the dam.
Do I?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5krz56suJOg

Arrow Root in My Veins.

"If I had a boat, I would sail to you. Hold you in my arms, ask you to be true."

What do you do when
your tears are so thick,
you can't even cry them?
And your phone is so heavy,
you can't pick it up?
What do you do when
your solid heart becomes
opaque, and shimmers like a mirage
in the hot desert sun?
What do you do when,
no matter how many detox drinks
you drink,
that pit stays in your gut and won't
leave you alone?
What do you do when
the only people you can
ask for help are
Fleetwood Mac,
and all they do is throw
your questions right back to you?
(Oh, mirror in the sky,
what is love?)
What do you do when
you don't know what to do,
or how to do it?
What to say,
or how to say it?
Tell me what to do when
sorry isn't enough,
and the man at the desk is still
empty-handed.

I haven't seen Vanessa in too long.

(The Monumental Move.)

"Let's waste time chasing cars around our heads."

Time flashes by like the heat of lightning and
crawls by as slow as a crippled rabbit.
Looking back, I can't see when it happened.
When I gave my heart away.
All I know is that my heart is not where it was originally placed
(in my own chest)
it's where another's resides.
Considering the facts
(it's a beautiful cavity for residence)
I think I'm alright with the arrangement.
The only risk is the chance my heart could be completely utterly
shattered.
In my chest, I could protect it myself.
Some consider that less risky.
Considering the facts, however,
(he has a sword and I do not)
I think I rather trust him to do a good job with its protection.

Patience is something I've never had
but given the current situation
(he has my heart in his own chest)
I don't see how I can do anything but
trust that he has the necessary guidance to give us a path.
The right path.
A path that I
(have) love(d)
love
(will) love
for a very long time.
(By "a very long time" I mean, of course, "forever".)

A Projector Screen.

"And she'll be home."

I've never seen so many stars,
never been so content in another's arms.

When I look in those
eyes,
my walls torn down,
and see a vulnerability
that matches my own,
I can do nothing but breathe peace,
and thank God.

My heart keeps on beating,
though I'm sure it will stop when he's
near.

My lungs keep on breathing,
though I'm sure they will stop when he's
gone.

What gets me, though,
is that he'll never really be gone.
No,
all I have to do is look up and see
us
in the night sky,
manifest as the small twinkling lights
that refuse to
ever
go out.

Looking Upwards.

"I can tell you're cold, so let me hold the moment you've been dreaming of but never told."

Scratchy chin
Loose cotton shirt
Strong arms
Broad chest
Warm hands
intertwined with mine.

Stars overhead lend their light as the
moon beams her approval.
Wisps of a cloud sail across the sky.

Do you think if we each held on real tight
to the other,
the breeze would lift us and
carry us to
forever?

I May As Well Ditch My Dismay (Bombs Away).

"It's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes."

This feeling of caring is more than I've ever known.
It's not in loud proclamations of passion,
or in sweeping demonstrations of knighthood,
but the concern in the words,
in his voice.

This feeling of security is more than I've ever known.
He doesn't have to promise me over and over that he'll stay.
He just will.
It couldn't be any other way.

Sometimes I just picture it in my mind--
us.
And my stomach turns and knots and waves crash and birds caw and everything is spinning and I'm safe.

How can I explain when I don't even understand?
Although I have no words I can't keep silent.
The rooftops and I have become recently well-acquainted..

There are some times, though,
when I can't even whisper it,
much less shout,
because it's all too rich inside me.
I don't want to share these feelings because they're just for me,
and even whispering his name to the darkness is too personal.
So I keep him inside,
and hold on to every moment.
Every laugh.
Every word said,
just for me.
And I'm smiling.

Fading Tail Lights.

"You can't be too careful anymore."

Everything is my fault.
I am to blame.
I can't be enough of a friend.
I can't pray enough for you.
I can't give enough of myself to you.
I can't give you good enough advice.
I can't try hard enough.
I can't chase after you fast enough or far enough.
I can't show God through my life enough to make you want to stay.
And it's all my fault.

I know you best.
Inside and out.
I trusted you the most.
And the blame is mine.

If I had done enough for you,
given enough to you,
shown enough in me,
you wouldn't be here, now.
Well,
you wouldn't be there, now.
Instead of here.
Instead of where you belong.

What more can I do?
What more can I say?
I have nothing left to give.
I have nothing left to give to you.
I have no more life to give to you.

But apparently, I do.
Because it's still hurting.
Will it always hurt like this?
Even if you come back?

Sometimes the wounds are just too deep.
Are these?
Will I even get the chance to find that out?

I don't know what to do anymore.

I have nothing left to give.

Swan Dive Down.

"The sun hung from a string, looking down on the world as it warms over everything."

Standing on the edge of the cliff,
I panic.
Trembling,
I can't force myself to look down.
Who knows what awaits?
I feel the dirt underneath my
bare feet,
the sky stretching above my
winded hair,
the sun pricking my
skin with its warmth,
and then
a presence,
beside me.
Almost close enough,
but not quite.
Not yet.
Closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and
then we suddenly

jump

together.

Falling
forever
and
an
instant,

we land

together.
No going back now,
and I would never
want to.

Safe, secure, and still a little scary,
this road stretches into the horizon.
And I can't see its end.

I would never
want to.

Ninety-Nine Lives.

"Is this the line between Heaven and Hell? Is this the line where I get up and walk out?"

Watch the moon wax and wane.
Feel me do the same.
Strength?
No.

Rings echo
in an empty house.
A short beep,
a silence,
no message.

It was a dream and
I awake and
I am alone.

Torn apart by choices and by fate.

We opened each other
and
lived each other
and
breathed each other
and
knew each other
and
saw each other
and
loved.

Rings echo
in an empty house.
A short beep,
a silence,
no message.

Pieces missing from my puzzle,
and all I can do is
cry and try to
find them.
99 sheep make for sleepless nights
and held breath.

Rings echo
in my empty heart.
A short beep,
a silence,
no one there
at all.


Vanessa.

Once a Year.

"Which is the poison, and which is the wine? The scent and the colors are so much alike."

Let me forget about the Greek expressions.
Let me weep.
Let me be absent-minded and three days later rise again.
Am I a biblical study?
No, I'm going to die one more time.
Just one more time, and then my grave will be satisfied.
How ambiguous of me, to say what I don't mean.
My structure is pure,
physical,
and purely physical.
2:24,
and all is well.


Vanessa.

Shine on Beads.

"Heart beats fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid?"

So dry.

My nose lets in air,
but it's so
dissmissive,
and open,
and incorrectly spelled.

Squeeze the orange
and fill in
the cavity;
citrus brings hydration and life.
Although,
there is a slight
stinging
sensation as it goes down.

Realism is insufficient,
as is
historical accuracy.

The hourglass makes it difficult to write.

Pretend like it's going to
last
and
jot it down.
Hope in this desert.
Life in this sand.
Can I change this
reality?
Or is every switch
too costly?

Yes.
It's all too
gaudy
and
personal
for my taste.

The seventies are too far away.

Vanessa. ((

Timeline.

"And for once it might be grand to have someone understand."

Juicing the
fruit
with my teeth.
Heavy-lidded eyes.
Swallow slowly and
lick
the compass;
show me which way to go.
Gravity-filled
steps
on the dry land,
wet shoes.
A sinister violin sweeps the background away--
earthy tones
and
splashes of color.
Focus in on the future.
Maybe
the baubles will amount to naught.
Maybe
the baubles will amount to light.
I'm not a mathematician;
I wouldn't know.
The name is
effective,
though.
What are you telling us?
I couldn't tell you.
But my
educated
guess is
simply to
follow the compass.

Vanessa. ((

Five Words Are Beautiful, That's What I Say.

"You're raising these twenty-four voices, with twenty-four hearts. All of my symphonies, in twenty-four parts."

Words have been dammed up in me for a while now, and they broke out tonight. Sometimes words are beautiful because they make sense. Sometimes words are just beautiful, and they don't have to make sense.


Painting is asking on a cold February day. Is my creative gift a creation of monstrosity or of beauty? It came in unannounced-- so beautiful it's almost scary. I cried. I destroyed. Is this true? Is there no place for shelves, and organ pipes, and narratives? There's a mannequin in the corner-- exhausted by asking questions and kneeling at the cross. "Unless I die, thou canst not live." A small death on the divine image... Is it like a galaxial view of love and craters? An infusion of beauty. Now I am on the narrow path-- to die. And I fail all the time to walk it.
God provides gold for the sun just as He provides gold for the art. Strings of light, fragile as sound, trembling between the lake and the clouds. Open to journeying, I integrate and leave expression to the wind and to reconciliation. Many years later, the flavored stream flows through reality-- permeating the soil with imagination. Elusive illuminations are the tears that fall for triumph and penitence and the autumn leaves. Immersed in the temple of life, eloping with the priestess of the dark earth and of the rustling candlelight.
Weighty glass totters on the edge of summer; one push and daylight will break through. Close your eyes for just a little while longer as the icons and exit signs flash their relative meanings. The holes in shoes are a creative journey to be made, celebrated, and liberated. My bondage to decay is broken through dancing, singing, and doodling in the margins of the Holy Bible. Doodling in the margins of life.
Innocence is so easily washed away as the river of creative blood drips and swirls. In the sixteenth century, things were different. Flickering candles are devastation and four thousand pains. Faced with such a Troy, what are we to do? Dismantle the tsunami and the sneaker and the therapy. The silver is at an impasse, but conviction rings like blackberries one more time.
Ring the suit and wear the gong
one
more
time.



Vanessa. ((

La Guillotine.

"Two nails holding the walls together. One sail to take me around the world."

I need to blog something.
I don't know what yet.
So here goes.

I'm so emotional tonight... More so than usual. Which, if you know me, is saying a lot. I've been thinking about a lot of things. Like the past, and the future, and myself. Too much introspection is bad, so they say. I don't know who "they" is, but I'm sure someone has said it. And I'm also sure that it's true, because these past few weeks I have been driving myself crazy with introspection. Doubting. Calm. Unbelief. Frantic. Trusting. Wishing, wanting, waiting. Waiting on the world to change.
It's all so big, I think to myself.
This ol' world.
It's all so big.
Too big.
When I watch the news and hear about all the problems that ravage our world... our country... our state... our city. It's just all too big. Ya know? What could I possibly do? What in the Carl Edwards blue blazes could I possibly do to help any of the problems that surround me?
So I'll just retreat, I think to myself.
I'll just take care of my own things, worry about my own problems, and leave everyone else to worry about theirs.
Because in the end,
what can I ever really do to help?

Some things that have contributed to this feeling:
--the sob stories of American Idol contestants
--being isolated
--watching the speeches of the Presidential candidates
--hearing of unthinkable things happening to acquaintances and their families
--facebook stalking
--seeing sadness in my family
--looking through pictures from my trip to Nepal
--wishing I was closer to the people I used to know
--seeing this picture:
http://multiply.com/mu/genedale/image/2/photos/12/600x600/5/DefineNecessity.jpg?et=Ht7epRZOVMCS0UQO7paZlw&nmid=264203739
--watching Les Miserables

And just living my life. Because my life is so great. And yet I'm not satisfied. I'm not satisfied when I'm laying around and doing nothing and being lazy and taking care of myself and watching TV and reading and playing Words with Friends and chilling on Facebook for days on end.
What is wrong with me?
I'm an American.
This is supposed to make me fat and happy.
And I won't lie, it does, for a while.
But after days of this... It doesn't make me happy anymore.

So I decided to do some spying on myself to find out what does satisfy me.
When I'm completely exhausted but I ski down three more hills with a middle schooler anyway, I'm satisfied.
When I've spent my Wednesday night at youth group, building relationships, I'm satisfied.
When I'm in Nepal laying out God's heart to someone who's never heard it before, I may not be comfortable, but I'm satisfied.
When I'm letting someone cry on my shoulder, I'm satisfied.
When I'm praying for someone else, I'm satisfied.
When I do the dishes just because, I'm satisfied.
When I'm encouraging someone else, I'm satisfied.
When I'm loving on my sisters, I'm satisfied.
When I'm learning more about God, I'm satisfied.
When I let my parents know that they're important to me, I'm satisfied.
When I call my grandparents just to talk, I'm satisfied.
Basically what I've learned is that what makes me happy, what satisfies me, what brings me joy is doing things for other people. Making an impact, or at least trying. Saying the hard thing, doing the hard thing, seizing opportunities. Doing what's right. This is what my life is about, what my life should be about anyway.

The thing is, when I don't have time to do things for myself, I make it a big thing. "I never have any time for myself," I whine. "I just want a lazy day for once," I whine. And now that I've been full of these things I've realized that I actually don't want that. Maybe for one day I want it. But not as a lifestyle. My lifestyle needs to be helping others. Caring for others. Putting their needs above my own.

Maybe this should have been divided into two blog posts. Because I feel like I'm talking about two subjects. But oh well, one leads to the other.

Since I'm called by God to put others before myself, and since that's what fulfills me anyway, that's what I should do, right? Right. But then we come to the problem I was talking about earlier-- everything is just too big. There's so many, many problems. How can I ever even begin to tackle any one of them, much less all of them?

This issue has been somewhat resolved with some help from my mom. She's good at that.
As I was babysitting a few days ago I was talking to the mother. She began remarking about tips that my mother has given her on parenting and the great encouragement my mom has been to her. "I doubt she even knows I remember those things she said," she told me. "But I hope that I can be as good of a mom as she is." My mom had an impact on this lady for good, without even really trying. Just by the way she lives her life and the way she cares about others. My mom's circle of influence goes way beyond the people she intentionally and consistently seeks out to influence. That's what I want to be like. I want my life to have an impact on anyone who comes in contact with me. It's encouraging to me to see that, because it makes me think. Maybe people are being influenced by me even when I feel like they're not. Even when I feel discouraged and neglected, maybe God can still use me to influence people I don't even realize I'm influencing.
See, there she goes again. My mom is influencing me by influencing someone else, and she doesn't even know it.
She also reminded me today that changing your life happens one step at a time. One little thing after another. And getting discouraged is not really an option when you realize that.

Also, God has reminded me of something He taught me while I was serving in Nepal.
I don't have to do this by myself.
The Body of Christ is a team, and we work together. When we are united in Christ, He can use all of us more together more than He could use me by myself. That's one reason I'm so thankful for Union, because there God has brought me to more like-minded people than I've even known existed. There are people in Jefferson City to team up with, of course, but at Union it's like the very atmosphere is charged with godly encouragement and action. I don't have to take the world's problems on my shoulders. Not only do I not have to, I shouldn't. God has already done that, and He doesn't expect me to take it all on myself. He expects me to use what He's given me to glorify Him. To love him and my neighbor.

And that's what I'm going to focus on from here on out. Even though I'm an emotional wreck, and I'm probably good for nothing. I'll give what I can to the One who's freed me from myself... In more ways than one.

Vanessa ((

Dreams.

"You're my favorite song."

Breathe a sigh of relief.

Out of my mind.

Watching the world fly by

seems a pastime

worthwhile.

Close my eyes.
Keep dreaming till the world ends.
I won't ever see the sun
if
I won't ever let it in.
Wasting time.
Out of my mind.
The colors all blur and
the scents
take on life.
Keep dreaming till the world ends.
Wind whipped hair
is
not enough for sin,
so I guess
I'll
just
give
in,
and keep dreaming till the world ends.

Vanessa ((