Wednesday Morning.

This poem was written after  "Tuesday Night." The same great teacher suggested writing a counter piece. "What's the other side to anger? Vulnerability." Again, keep in mind that although these words might have been inspired by an emotion, they are fiction.


Wednesday Morning.

Last night I said some things I didn’t mean

About anger and brown skies and the stuff in between.

I said I was over it, I wanted to escape

But the only place I’m running is back to your place.

I need you, I want you, and yeah, you make me mad,

But there’s not a man in the world who could give me what I had.

Now this sounds crazy, like I’ve lost my mind, but I’m hurting and scared

And I just needed time.

It’s easy to blame you for all that’s gone wrong, but the truth is most the blame should probably be mine.

I’m hard to please and bad at listening, and you try to get through but my tone is splintering.

I should come with a warning that says the truth, then you wouldn’t have to hurt because of what I say to you.

I loved what we were and the future that we thought of, I just want to get back to the place where we left off- the place of laughs and smiles where everything is right-

somehow we got lost in this place and it’s worse than night. But in this tunnel that we’re stuck in,

there’s got to be a light and I’m gonna run until I see it shinin’ bright.

Now I’m laughing at myself, these words sound so childish but if I can show my anger,

I’ve gotta learn to show its counter-friend.

You see, that’s my problem, it’s so easy to defend, but when I really think I’ve lost you,

I’ll willingly show you where I’ve been. 

I’ll tell you what you need to hear, no guard to fight, I swear,

But you need to do the same for me; life doesn’t, but we’ve gotta play fair.

So here I am, what’s left of me, vulnerable and scared, now show me what’s left of you,

If there’s any part to spare. 

I’m gonna change, no more blank stare; When you talk to me I’ll listen, 

and I’ll ask you not to turn the chair.

Show me your heart, and I’ll quit with this game. Nice girl, here I am, I'm ready for a change.

Though I’m not gonna smile yet,

it’s gotta be real and I’m still stuck on “ready set.”

I’m trying though, I hope you see, and I promise- 

this is the real me. 

Tuesday Night.

This is a poem that you're not going to be used to. A teacher once told me, "Anger is an emotion that scares most critics because people think skeptically." She was right. So here is anger. You just have to keep in mind that it's fiction, possibly inspired at an angry moment. 

Tuesday Night.

When you want to write but the words don't come out,
so many thoughts in your head, you're chokin' now,
at-least I think that's what Eminem said.

 You're hopin' somehow they might look at you and know what to say, what to do.
To disappoint the masses would obstruct this view-
this view you'v been given from the life that's "you". 
But the truth is, they don't know who's who.
It's not you, smiling bright saying yes and no, it's alright.
It's not alright, you're pissed off and he's ramblin' like a broken 
jukebox
One more thing you've done wrong, 
another mistake and you're cryin' out
someone please take the burden of this weight, but no one hears a sound
beneath the smiles are nothin' but frowns and the blue sky looks brown
or maybe gray, i think that's right, but either way nothin' looks bright
To run now would make you a coward, or the strongest person in the world
if you could just escape for an day or one hour
you might make it through or find a place to really be you. 
No more nice girl, no more twisted hue, just the blue sky and a new view that's you.

The clock says eleven and you think sleep might be that get away
you close your eyes and try to escape, 
but it chases you in your dreams and all day-
there's no runnin' from your problems, they won't go away, 
so you take them like a man but with the grace of a lady 

and your promise yourself it'll be the last of "please, baby." 
you're done beggin' and sayin sorry, those things lost their meaning
long ago and today it's time to give back the beating. 

You throw your hands up but you're not leaving, 

you're saving yourself from a life of bleeding- love that is; 

you're gonna find the true feeling. 
I'm angry but there's nothin' left to say.
I've written these words and now all that's left is to quit this day. 

Free Time? Is that a movie or something?

I miss the days of Starbucks on a regular basis and no class until 12:40. I miss Skype sessions that last until 4 a.m. because there's nothing to wake up and do the next day. I miss nap times and watching TV.  I miss Tuesday night bible studies and no class on Fridays. I miss lunch dates and manicures. I miss shopping on Saturday mornings and  going to the movies.

Is this to be expected- losing all of these things? Or, not losing them, but not having time to do them- ever? The years between 20-something and 40- something come with a label: "No Free Time Available." I can't remember the last time I sat down to watch TV, or had a Saturday with nothing to do. When did Starbucks become a drive through instead of an afternoon on the patio? I can't remember when I had time to stop and breathe, or actually write a blog about something other than what I don't have time to do! It seems crazy to me, that we function this way; that we function in such a rush and a strain to get all the things we need to do done. We do it though, and some of us do it with such a poise and a style that you'd never know we hadn't had a manicure or a nap or a free second since I-don't-know-when. Here's to you super humans. You must be the ones conquering the world because I can barely eat my lunch. You know, they say you'll always remember your college years, well that's because you'll look back and think, "How in the world did I ever get all of that done?" It'll be a amazing to you. Parents, next time your kids say you don't do anything, you should drag them with you everywhere you go in a day while they're at school or out with friends. Oh, and parents, next time you tell your college student they don't do anything, you should go with them through their day and see what all they're "not doing." You'd be surprised- and very, very tired.

But now that I've complained, I'm going to class. And then work. And then I'm going to wake up tomorrow and do the same thing. Again.

And it's okay...

Just in-case you've been wondering-

It's okay to paint your toe nails a different color than your finger nails...

And to paint them more than once a week... or day. 

It's okay to rent a movie and not watch it, or to watch the same movie over and over.

It's okay to write it on the To Do list instead of actually doing it,

And it's okay to write down things you've already done, just so you'll have some thing to check off.

It's okay to eat peanut m&ms for a snack... or dinner.

It's okay to pretend you are an Olympic runner, for the sake of completing that ridiculously long mile.

It's okay to dance around and sing at the top of your lungs, even when people are watching.

And it's okay to dress up like you're going to a dance- just for fun.

It's okay to cry the whole way through Dear John or P.S. I Love You, or any movie for that matter.

It's okay to pretend you've got everything under control,

And it's okay to not have anything under control.

It's okay to laugh at your own jokes. 

It's okay to talk to yourself when no one else is home.

It's okay to not understand,

And it's okay to not care to try and figure it out.

It's okay to sleep in on Saturdays.

It's okay to buy something new just because you haven't in a while, 

And it's okay to buy things, even though you know it will probably be returned.

It's okay to stalk old friends on Facebook,

And it's okay to tell yourself you look better than them.

It's okay to be happy for no reason, or to cry for no reason.

It's okay to break etiquette.

It's okay to live your life the way you want to, regardless of what the world tells you, and in the end...

It's okay. 

Happy Feet and Pink Pedals Day 1, Day 2

Now, I literally just posted the first entry. I am posting tonight about today and yesterday's ride because I want them all to be included in this series, so here we go:

Thursday: I hadn't ridden my bike in months, and to tell you the truth, I felt a little bit of nervousness and I pedaled toward the trail. As soon as I hit the dirt, my nervousness was overcome by adrenaline, and I was immediately reminded why I loved to ride so much in the first place. It was brilliant. I realized how much I'd missed this feeling, this activity, and the freedom that came with it. I spent the whole hour on the trail feeling like a kid in the candy store. Every  corner, every hill, every climb and descent had me wanting to go faster and every near-fall made my heart race a little and my eyes light up. It's a great feeling to find complete and utter happiness in something so simple as riding a bike.

Friday:  I had planned on riding this afternoon, but when a phone call woke me up at nine this morning, I called the weather hotline and couldn't turn down 76 degrees. I got out of bed and headed toward the trail. I was so excited to be going back out for another ride, I didn't even eat my breakfast before I left. I brought the bagel with peanut in the car with me! This is not a good idea, just in case you were planning to try it, but if it meant getting on the trail 10 minutes earlier, then let's do it! Needless to say, I got to the trail and spent the next two and a half hours in the same blissful state as Thursday. I rode faster today, so I was more tired, but I pushed myself through to another lap. I say pushed myself, but it really didn't take any convincing, which is a nice change from the normal ride. I began my second go round with the same excitement as the first. There were no exciting crashes, no "i hate this hill!!" bursts. It was just a good ride. I was worn out when I finished, but not the kind of worn out you get from pushing too hard or doing too much. I felt accomplished and pleased, and I was still excited and happy about riding. I don't think I'll make it to the trail tomorrow, but you better believe Sunday I've got a date with the dirt, and I'm wearing my good spandex!

On a side note, I think I've ridden better the past two days than I ever have. I think the reason for that is, at some point over my couple years on the bike, riding went from something I loved and did for fun to something I did because I wanted to be good and get better. It quit being about loving the sport and having fun. It started being about getting better times and sticking with the guys. But the question is, if you don't love what you're doing, if there's no passion behind your actions, then what's the point? What's the reward? If you're killing yourself for something that you don't love doing, won't you just resent whatever it is in the long run? There's got to be a passion for what you're doing. It's the only way anything is going to be worth while.

Happy Feet and Pink Pedals

I called this "Happy Feet and Pink Pedals" because that's what riding a bike does for me- it makes me happy. Not to mention, it literally makes you smile, but I'm not going to get all scientific on you. That's not the point of this blog. Oh, and I called it that because I have pink pedals. They are incredible; a work of art, but that's not the point either. Here's the thing: 

I rode my bike yesterday for the first time in about five months. It was amazing, and I was reminded why I fell in love with riding in the first place. It felt so good to finally be back on the bike, just me and the trail. I went again today but for twice as long. Same result- pure bliss. I even got so excited that I decided I would do  a mountain bike race called The Six hours of Herb. It's called that because it is a six hour race. Wow. I forgot to mention earlier that when I said I rode twice as long today, I meant that I rode two and a half hours instead of one. I'm only three and a half hours short of being able to complete the race- yay. So, for obvious reasons, I won't win this race. I won't even place. Heck, I am really just hoping to finish. And the truth is, I'm going to finish because there is not a certain amount of laps (one lap equals nine miles) you have to do in order to finish. You just ride as much as you can in the six hours. Technically, I could do one lap and quit, and I would have "finished." Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked.

My goal is just to do the race and not chicken out. I guess the ultimate goal would be to ride four laps, 36 miles, in six hours. Now, if you're any good at all, that's not a good race time, but for me, that would be awesome! I am going to blog about my rides up until the race and then I'll finish this blog series with the race. I guess, in a way, I'm holding myself accountable through this blog. School's about to start though, and I need to find a job. Time is going to be stretched for me and finding time to ride is going to be hard. So hold on. It's going to be a bumpy ride! 

worship or WORSHIP?

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God- this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is- his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:1-2

One of the greatest things about Student Life is the worship. Every night, regardless of your day, you go into a room with several, several hundred students and glorify a God who is forgiving and gracious. I love the worship. I love the music and the songs and the words.

And one thing I was most excited about this summer, was getting to spend a whole week in worship with Tenth Avenue North. I play their cd in my car and I know their songs by heart, so naturally I was pumped to spend the week with them. I knew they were going to be awesome, and I had built them up in my mind the be as great as they sounded in my car. So as they took the stage for our first night of worship and started singing "Mighty to Save" I felt the disappointment rise.

Let me clarify. The band was as great as I had imagined. They sang "Mighty to Save" as wonderfully as the others. I was not disappointed in the band. I was disappointed in my purpose of worship. I did not come in to worship tonight expecting to sing to a God who loves me, I came in to worship tonight expecting to hear my favorite band sing awesome songs. So let me say this:

What are you worshiping? Or rather, are you worshiping? Are you singing because  you like the song or the band, or are you singing because your God is mighty to save and he can move the mountains? I wasn't. My disappointment came from my own desires of a great concert; the the phone call I'd have with my best friend about how I was "working" with Tenth Avenue North all week. My ideas were thwarted and backwards.  I was not there to worship. I was there to hear a great show. That's where my disappointment came in to play.

But even more than that, what are you worshiping with your life? Worship is not a song. Worship is a lifestyle. It's a way of thinking and living. It's a basic foundation to build your life around. So what are you worshiping? Why are you singing? Who gets your praise?