I

"This is the God of the gospel of grace. A God, who out of love for us, sent the only Song He ever had wrapped in our skin. He learned how to walk, stumbled and fell, cried for His milk, sweated blood in the night, was lashed with a whip and showered with spit, was fixed to a cross and died whispering forgiveness on us all." - Brennan Manning

Amen.

Four Lines Of Iambic Pentameter

It's so vacuous to take back the essence of control from the One who set the earth in motion.

I seized the pen from the Author's hand,
And wrote myself into No-Man's-Land,
Where the thorns bereave and storms demand
My attention's turn from something grand.

I wrote this last semester. Really, I was just playing with meter and rhyme, trying to get a perfect set of lines in iambic pentameter. I got the structure right, thankfully. Kudos to Jeff for final editting. I think this is one of my favorite pieces.

Upon Acceptance of What Must Be

It is not You who bereaves me,
Dawner of day, Sultan of sea.
Not You, but the darkness in me.

It is not You who turns dusk to night,
One Holy God, Father of Light.
Not You, but this sin of birthright.

It is not You who steals our mirth,
Supreme Spirit of my rebirth.
Not You, but this flawed, broken earth.

Is it not You who changed my past,
Forever Song, Great Love so vast?
Yes, You, though I have trespassed.

Is it not You, one day to come
Love of my heart, Light of the sun?
Yes, You. You resound my anthem.

I'm afraid I must work in the morning, but I thought I'd do a short little blog thing right quick about a topic that has seemingly overtaken my life as of late-- Catholicism. Everywhere I turn, I run into it. Tonight's small group meeting really drove it into the ground for me. I don't think this is bad, in fact, it's probably good for me, ya know? Dejan's been asking me tough questions about my doctrine that I've never been asked before, I've been listening to the verbal sparring of Ryan and whoever feels like attacking him on any given Monday, and my conversations with McGee have been funneling down to one or two main points of conflict in my little, Evangelical mind.

It's interesting, though, because before I began seriously talking with McGee, or attending Jeff's English classes, Catholicism hardly caught my attention at all. I was a happily ignorant little Protestant girl. Now, I find myself literally caught in the middle of Protestantism and Catholicism, with no desire in my heart to convert to the latter. (Yet a heavy desire for celibacy-- which is a whole different issue.) I can't, however, openly admit this to any of my friends (Catholic or otherwise), because the Protestants like to breathe down my neck all the time, and the Catholics never understand why I don't just convert if I'm really "almost Catholic", as some like to call me.

Truth is, I have a serious issue with the idea of the Tradition of the Catholic (Roman or otherwise) church being the unwritten word of God. I understand the concept. In fact, I find myself explaining it more and more to most of my non-Catholic friends as though I believed it, but I can't. It isn't that I doubt that The Church is the Bride of Christ, spotless because of His sacrifice, nor do I think that we should disregard history and the theology of Godly people that have come before us in interpreting the written word of God, but if the Church, or the Pope, do all the interpreting, what is the Holy Spirit for?

As for the celibacy thing...

So, as very few know, there is a boy named Dan, who I irreversibly allowed into my heart, and who I thought had done the same for me. I was wrong.. I got played. It happens, life goes on. But with this current (and ever so deep) heartache of mine comes a renewed reminder of my possible call to celibacy.

It makes me wonder... is this call only a resort after I have been hurt? With Dan, I almost feel like I was trying out another guy just to see if God REALLY meant it when He placed this in me. Why are these guys so easy to look past? Are they just distractions from God's calling? Am I just afraid of never finding someone? All of these questions have been battling on the forefront of my mind for the past 8 months, and still I find no resolution.

I'm pretty sure that all of you are thinking, "So what? Everyone goes through struggles." But I cannot say that I've ever met anyone that has gone through this particular struggle... and what a struggle it is! To think-- I may never become a mother. I may never have a wedding day. The struggle doesn't come in what I'm giving up, though, it comes in the idea of what I might be missing. If I were to remain celibate, would God really make it worth my while? I know that is a silly question. Really, I can't believe it even passes through my mind. But sometimes, I feel like I don't know where I'm going. I feel completely out of place, completely alone, and like God's reserving me for that "something better" that may never come. Sometimes, it feels like I'm holding out for nothing.

I know I'm young, and there's a lot of life left to live, but I'd rather every moment be used by Him. It isn't like I'm not willing-- it just feels like He's not interested at the moment.

And that hurts.

Meh... I'll finish this tomorrow or Wednesday, if there is anything to finish. I've had a really, really long day and not nearly enough sleep, so I am going to head off to Dreamland.

"I just want to be something more than the mud in Your eyes. I want to be the clay in Your hands. 'Cause Gloria is silent, and glory is a silent thing." - Mineral

HOLY SONNETS.

XIV.

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

John Donne