To go, advance, proceed, travel, move along, progress.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Guns and Drugs and Safety.

I am so frustrated with the goings on and ideas being presented in our culture after the tragedy in Newport. So being as how this is my only real outlet, here I go...
The problem in this situation and many others like it is not guns, or bombs, or knives or whatever other weapon you can imagine. The problem is the people who are holding the weapons. The problem is that we live in a world where many people come from broken homes, broken parents, broken friends, broken EVERYTHING and the outcome is that generally they themselves become BROKEN.

broken (adjective):
  1. Having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.
  2. Rejected, defeated, or despairing.
It is ridiculous to expect broken people to make whole, thoughtful, non selfish, moral decisions. I am not justifying people making these sorts of decisions I am just recognizing that it is the nature of the beast. We are a spiritually fallen race. We are apart from the peaceful and whole life that God intended. Taking guns away is not going to solve this problem, it is only going to make vulnerable the people who actually deserve to be armed when those who don't deserve it STILL get a hold of weapons because THEY WILL. You cannot punish EVERYONE for the mistakes of few especially when the the concept behind the punishment, stricter gun laws, won't actually keep the wrong people from getting them. Look at drugs. Stricter drug laws? That has worked out REAL well. Drug use has increased every year according to drugabuse.gov. Drugs are illegal right? Mhm.

Next, at the risk of upsetting some of you, why is it that anyone assumes there is any real safety anywhere?

safety (noun):

1.The condition of being protected from or unlikely to cause danger, risk, or injury: "They should leave for their own safety."
2. Denoting something designed to prevent injury or damage: "a safety barrier"; "a safety helmet".

What does safe mean? Are you safe in your home. Yes, until someone decides to break in. Are you safe at the movies? Yes, until someone decides to show up with a gun. Are you safe at the mall? Yes, until someone plants a bomb. My point is that random acts of violence by the above mentioned people can and will happen ANYWHERE at ANYTIME. If a crazy person wants to be crazy no matter how strict any law is, they will find a way. There is no such thing as safety, just the illusion of it. You aren't even safe in your car on the way to the grocery store because everyone and their mother seems to think driving under the influence is okay. WHERE ARE YOU SAFE? REALLY? If someone can answer that honestly please do, because I am of the honest opinion that safety is something we tell ourselves we have in order to function.

All that to say, the only solution to any of these problems is Jesus- and even your belief in that won't keep you safe. It will allow you to live without fear, knowing that he works everything for the good of those who love him. But look around people- we aren't safe, we haven't been for a really long time and it isn't going to get better by taking guns away or adding an extra deadbolt to your door or wearing your seat belt. Safety is not a reality in our culture. Period.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

What Goes In, Must Come Out: A Commentary On A Slice Of Our Culture

I have never understood haunted houses, or the desire to be scared in general. To me, fear is the most awful feeling in the history of the world. It is paralyzing and torturous and awful so I have no idea why anyone would pay to experience it. Life is scary enough without people in god awful masks chasing you with hacksaws in jest. The only memory (terrible, horrifying, rechid), memory I have of a haunted house was the last one I was talked into attending. I was about 17 and this particular haunted house is very well known and particularly terrifying. I went in with my boyfriend and my best friend at the time and peed myself. No, literally, I urinated in my clothes. Not enough that I had to face complete humiliation but there was pee in there. Haha, I know, lets all get the laughing out.
All that to say, I am writing this blog because it has always bothered me that we are a culture that is entertained by such horrible things. We stand in line and pay to see people dressed as though they have been brutally murdered and tormented. We line up the theaters to watch the same stuff at the movies. We tune in for prime time shows like Criminal Minds (which is really mild comparatively), and are "entertained" by stories of people having been raped and murdered. I understand we all love a a good "who-dun-it", but everything is SO extreme now. What does it say about us? Don't get me wrong, Walking Dead is my favorite show of all time and I have NO plan to stop watching it but the reality is, its gruesome and sad. People are struggling to survive and turning against each other and dying brutal deaths.
I think what this says about us is that we are completely and utterly desensitized to pretty much everything. I mean, on shows like Law and Order the story lines involve things like child molestation, child rape and child murder. These are the worst offenses any of us could ever dream of and we are watching fictional stories about them on purpose. It is not normal. Well, it is normal and that is the problem. I don't mean to get all Jesus on you and make you feel convicted about Law and Order but I am pretty sure God is up there tonight thinking to himself, "Brooks, seriously? You are more excited to watch the premier of Walking Dead than you were to go to church this morning? Something bout that just ain't right sister." I am just proposing we all think a little bit harder about what we allow in our minds and hearts and spirits because like it or not, it will effect what comes out of them.

Monday, October 8, 2012

The Things I Already Know That I Am Choosing to Really Know.

Sweet title huh?

If you have known me for any period of time you know my ongoing battle with eating and exercise. If you don't know me that well I will break it down for you simply: I have issues. I always have, since as far back as I can remember. I have ranged from not eating, to binging, to purging to never exercising to non stop exercise, never finding a true balance and never just being happy with myself. I have moments, sometimes days or weeks where I have this epiphany about all of it and do really well, and then "BAM!" I end up back at square one. In fact, I am pretty sure I have started many a blog with this exact same paragraph.
That to say, I have been doing the exercise program Insanity for a few weeks now and it is BRUTAL. Like, not normal brutal. It's all about "digging deeper" and "creating a better you". The instructor and creator says over and over, "I'm not trying to kill you, just trying to make you better!" It occurred to me today as I stood dripping sweat, barely breathing in my kitchen on my 30 second water break that the whole program is ridiculous. Like many other exercise programs it's all about "transforming" your body. If you google pictures you are sure to find an uncountable amount of photos of people who have had amazing results. People who have gone from flab to fab! Here's what finally hit me: transform my body into what? Into a hard ab-ed, tight assed push up machine? For what? What am I "digging deeper" to? I am spending appx 40min a day beating my body into the ground, looking for results that mean absolutely nothing to anyone other than myself. AND, probably not even to myself, because if I ever got to the point where I actually see results in my body I will just find something else not to like. I don't need a body transformation, the body is just a vessel. It says nothing about who I am and what I am here for. It is a temple I get to kind of own for awhile and then it's dust. Furthurmore, my body, as is, has done some pretty awesome stuff. I've carried and birthed two babies, danced all night with friends, run a 5k, given millions of hugs and worn AWESOME clothes (daily). I use it to cuddle and play at the park with my kids. This body is home to my hands that move and create art, or something like it. I get to decorate it however I want and it has yet to fail me. My body is not what needs transformation, but my mind does.
God I have spent so much of my life caught up and dominated by whether or not my thighs touch or my ass jiggles. I eat whatever, I eat nothing, I barf everything. I stand in front of mirrors and suck in, stick out, suck in, stick out. I hide the scale and then dig it out, I weigh everyday and not for months. I run, I elliptical, I Zumba, I Insanity and all of it leaves me in the same place because my body is not the problem. My mind is the problem. This is not a new revelation, but I feel like it is time to actively start living out what I know and what I know is this: I need Jesus. He is the only one who can get my head straight about this nonsense and keep it that way. He is the only one who can honestly remind me what my worth really is and why it is important to focus on that instead of everything temporary. I don't want to get to 40 or 50 or 60 and still be fighting this losing battle trying to be something that no one said I have to be except me. It is time to start actively choosing something better for myself. JOY. ACCEPTANCE. HEALTH- rather than extreme over working in order to weigh less and wear a smaller jeans.
I know I will fail somewhere along the line. I know I will have a day where I freak out about something I ate and wanna throw up or go run. I know I will look in the mirror at times and dislike what I see. But right now, I am choosing to focus on what is real, and meaningful and eternal- and those things are not my body.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

A Caterpillar.

In my church home group we are studying a book called The Cure by John Lynch. It is basically a book on grace. Letting go of law and trying to please God, and allowing Him to rejoice in us fully exactly as we are. If you are like me, this concept is REALLY REALLY REALLY times a million more REALLY's hard to grasp. In my reading this week I came upon the most amazing analogy:


 "Consider the caterpillar. If we brought a caterpillar to a biologist and asked him to analyze it and describe its DNA, he would tell us, 'I know this looks like a caterpillar to you. But scientifically according to every test, according to its DNA, this is fully and completely a butterfly.' Wow! God has wired into a creature looking nothing like a butterfly a perfectly complete butterfly identity. And because the caterpillar is already a butterfly in essence, it will one day display the behavior and attributes of a butterfly. The caterpillar matures into what is already true about it. In the mean time, berating the caterpillar for not being more like a butterfly is not only futile, it will probably hurt its tiny ears."

Holy, Moses. God sees the monarch in me even though all I see is a fuzzy brown worm? I hope that one day I fully grasp and hold onto grace for what it really is.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Missed Connections

Walmart check out
You had goldfish and a pregnancy test
I noticed how beautiful you were
And then the scars
So many scars
And not the timid ones
Not the faint lines
That I bear now hidden
By time and tattoos
Raised
Flesh colored
Bulging
Lines
They must have been
So deep
I wonder if you
Look at them now
And see then
If your heart follows
Your eyes 
Do lovers trace
Fingers over them
Drawing those lines
Over and over again
Asking questions
But never looking
For answers
Do people stare
When you bare yourself
Making judgements
About how ridiculous
You must be
Must have been
Did you run out of room
Are your thighs
Marked
Heavy
Scarred
Weighed down
With open wounds
Still
Are you ashamed?

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Invitation

And so the Pity Party shall commence

You shall all arrive
And I shall tell you of my woes
My unfulfilled desires
And my complete lack of belief
In dreaming

Because dreams are for sleep
And awake is for parties
The parties that celebrate
Realism and Pessimism
As if the two were attendees

I bake cakes laced with strife
And iced with bitterness
I serve slices that seem incomplete
Without a scoop of resentment
A drizzle of unforgiveness

I play games that poke needles
Into dolls
SURPRISE! You've hit the spleen!
I ring around the rosie
And pay special attention to the part
About ashes
Because ashes mean endings
Dust
Soft in between my thumb and finger
Becoming nothing
Against the friction of itself

The elastic holding on my party hat
Snaps
No one has come
Nothing has changed
The cake is gone
The games are old

I should really start cleaning this mess.







Friday, August 10, 2012

I Wish I Had Written This

Apologia
By Jill Essbaum

I have been sodden with wine.
I have been confused by wine.
I have been lied to by men,
And yet, I lie down upon such men,
Still and willing in the manners that they please.
Lord, I’ve been the blemish at your love feast.

And I’ve been tangled in nettles and brambles,
Have dwelt in seamy hotels, have ambled
Down roads that once, so necessary,
Seemed. And I’ve prayed, hot and overloadedly,
Having meddled in such matters
That ought be closed to me.

Darkness. I have done dread deeds in,
Hearkening to apocalyptic heathen,
Even as I cocked my lips to yours. And I have slept
On floors. And I have crept along on all fours.
And. More. I have lived briskly in nice houses.
I have swigged whiskey in icehouses.

I have been June, July, and August.
I have been riotous when I felt like I must
Or I could be. And I’ve hung on your tree like a ripe fig.
Desiring to be plucked. And I’ve flung my body to your bed
Like a white bride pining to be rubbed up against.
Like a suckling child hungry in a viper’s den.

And I have been Dismas, the penitent
Thief. And I have been Judas. And I’ve spent
My plenty silvers chiefly on my hells.
In that, I have seldom, if ever, failed.
It’s just as well. For as the ibis devours her carrion,
I feed upon what queasy defeats I carry on

My back. Thus the beggar becomes her bowl.
And the hangwoman surrenders to the scaffold.
And irrevocable acts of god and doom consume me.
Can this be mercy? I fear there isn’t any
Left. Even the chrism is bereft.
Wretched, most wretched it says.

While my guilt unfolds like a napkin in your lap.
Will a dog grow fat on crumbs the master drops?
I have been a grabber at your garment hem.
And I have been a Magdalene outside your tomb.
And I’ve bathed atop roofs, have pounded with rue,
Have pooled my pearls, the sorrowful few---

Like milky mea culpas they rattle fragile on a string.
Christ: Forgive me everything.

From: “The Best American Poetry 2010,” pages 51, 52

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Perpetual Garden

From conception
He knows us
Yet we flee from Him

From the moment
Our tiny feet
Hit the floor
We are running
Towards trouble

Towards trouble

We want more
We want more

Little feet grow large
Fit into the shoes
Of those before us
Those who left us
Under curse
And
Running towards trouble

Lines blur
Lust swirls
Eager we are
For our eyes
To be opened

And the power
Of the cross
Becomes background noise
Becomes fleeting
And forgranted

No sooner did
We lose a savior
Than we are
Giving Him back away
Hurried in our attempt
To be left alone

At least there is grace
At least there is grace

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Don't Say 'Amen'.

Today at church we had a guest speaker. He was from China, and had been imprisoned for 3 years there for printing and handing out Bibles. His story is amazing, and so were he and his family.
However, the whole time he spoke I found myself getting more and more bitter. Particularly when anyone around me said "Amen!" or anything like it. I wanted to just turn and say to whomever, "Don't say 'Amen' like you have any idea what this guy has been through or understands, just stare in awe and recognize that you will never have any idea what it means to be really persecuted for your faith." Awful huh? I felt that way the whole time and I left agitated.
So here I am at 8:05pm trying to process what my frustration was all about. The only thing I can gather is that I am just pissed at myself. I am mad at myself for living such a privileged, spoiled, American life. I am mad that I have been given the opportunity to do so much, and have done so little. I am mad that I have allowed so many things to stand in my way- things that seem trivial when propped up next to prison, or disability or any number of other things that so many amazing, life changing people have had to push through. I know this isn't God- I know He is not giving me this spirit of agitation, but I am...agitated.
I left just asking myself if I even had any real grasp on faith at all. I believe in Jesus. I believe He died and rose. I believe He was the Son of God. Do I believe that He is the same miracle worker that He was back when he was a physical person? I want to say yes- but I haven't witnessed any miracles lately. (Please don't read into this- I know every breath is a miracle and birth and blahblahblah- that is not what I am talking about). I have prayed for healing and not received it. I have resigned my own self to mental illness because it is easier to believe that it is some how in Gods plan than to keep believing for healing and never get it. So is that faith? When I sit down and really rack my mind, there are SO many things I am jaded about. Things about God that I don't understand, that I don't have answers for and that I cannot wrap my mind around. Some of that is good- I am not supposed to be able to wrap my head around God...but a lot of it is just- not good. Why isn't God healing people every Sunday when we pray for them? Jesus said I can do greater things than he ever did so why are so many prayers left unanswered?
I think it is partially just due to the fact that we are spoiled here. I know when you start researching the "Jesus Movement" in other countries, you will find that amazing things are happening. God is moving in places the same way he did in Acts. I am fairly sure this is because most of those people are truly oppressed- like physically in poverty and under dictatorship and they know what it means to be TRULY hungry and in need of God. There's been moments in my life where I have come to a place where I felt completely and utterly oppressed and God has shown up. Every time. But most of the time, I can get by on my own, so I don't yearn for my Creator. I just muddle through. I tread water and then wonder why I feel so far from God until my legs give in and I absolutely cannot tread any longer and I cry out and He shows up.
So here is my problem: how do I keep crying out, even when I just hopped in the pool? How do I remember and live in my absolute desperate need for Jesus everyday, allowing Him to work in me everyday, rather than just when I really need Him? Don't get me wrong- I KNOW the only reason I have anything is because I have God, but I don't LIVE like the only reason I have anything is because I have God. I want to be desperate for Him in my heart no matter how not desperate I may feel in my life. Does that make sense? I want to wake up everyday remembering what Jesus did for me and making sure I know that everyone around me knows the only reason I am who I am with what I have is because of forgiveness and grace. I want to do more. I want to do so much more- and I am jaded because I feel like....like I am just never gonna get there.

PS. If you attend my church and are reading this- sorry for wanting to slap you when you said "Amen". It's not you, it's me.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Circles.

It has been so long since I have blogged that blogger has completely changed its format. Fantastic.

Sometimes I find that I am walking in circles- that what I thought I was free from still grips me, even with its pinky finger. I realized recently that I am at the same rock I started walking away from this time last year. I walked and walked and walked and did really well staying away from that rock until I ended up right back at it. How does that happen? Or, why, is a much better question.

How can my mind stay so deceived that even I don't realize I am still deceived?? I do the right things and I say all the right things- I project all that is well and good and stable but my mind is still so backwards about some stuff. I have the answers and I know what to do- but when it comes to doing it I can't get around myself. I have these ideas so ingrained in me that no matter how hard I push or pull or pluck to remove them- to get them out of me, they always become settled back in, as if to say "We are who you are and that is that." So many people will confess this idea as truth because change is hard and acceptance is easy...but I know better. I know God is a God of deliverance and longs so desperately to break the chains that bind us- so why am I still bound?? Why am I gripping my own chains, white knuckled, holding on for dear life as if I wouldn't know what to do without them or be without them or focus on without them? How can you want something more than anything yet be the only thing in your own way of getting it?

Lord, how do I turn my face to you- so up and forwards towards you that anything else fades so far into the background that I forget its existence? How do I seek first YOUR kingdom instead of my own understanding of life or whatever else like it? How do I love and trust you enough to allow you to overcome me....because as much as you may like to, I am my own barricade. I don't like this rock, and although it may have been handed to me, like so many skeletons in closets, I don't have to chose to keep it. Give me the self control and discipline to just chuck it, or at the very least walk away from it and make a path that is non circular.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Panic- A Commentary.

What would you do if without any sign of distress the whole world closed in around you and your heart sped up and skipped beats and it was working so hard you could feel it against your skin and see it in your neck? What would it mean if your face became numb, full of pins and needles as if it fell asleep like a foot you've been sitting on too long and the tingles dropped from your jaw down to your arms till your hands felt paralyzed and then up to your forehead the sensation so overwhelming it felt like work to move your lips. Where would you be if you found yourself trembling, body shaking uncontrolably, teeth chattering like you've been abandoned in the cold only you haven't- you are tucked safely away in your bed lost in dreams waking up to find yourself in this state that you cannot control.
"What are your triggers?"
What are my triggers.
Breathing, eating, sleeping, laughing, crying, moving, laying, living.
My trigger is living.
I don't have an answer and I don't know how to feel and I don't know what to do but the strings attached to this puppet have names and their names are Shame, Fear, Panic, Exhaustion and Lunacy. Their names are things I shove under rocks and cover with leaves in order to hide their connection to me. I prefer to appear without strings, I like the idea of freedom...the smell and taste and relief of moments when my strings are well hidden- doused in the proper amount of pharmaceutical and laced with peace, joy and happiness.
Peace.
Is this my legacy? Is this what I have to pass onto and into the lives of my babies- their faces lost and scrunched as I try to spell out why we cannot go, why I cannot breath, why we are again in the waiting room of a hospital. As I try to spell out mental illness.
I am not.
I am not.
Surrender means acceptance. Being off the hook. Not having to fight anymore.
Hey God, could you please pass the white flag?

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Screw You.

People who are prone to anxiety may have palpitations more frequently when they find themselves in psychologically uncomfortable situations. In fact, the great majority of complaints about the heart presented to physicians indicate a psychological rather than a physical problem. An anxious person may turn his attention to his physical symptoms instead of learning to cope with the situation causing the symptoms. After several episodes in which he experiences his heart "pounding" or "beating too fast," he fears it is a sign of heart disease or some other physical disorder.

Friday, January 27, 2012

You Will Know

 Dedicated to Mrs. Shirlee, who gave me a brand new place to start growing.


You will know you have grown
When it occurs
That you have no desire
To talk about "then"-
That "then" is none of their business
(Unless of course it is their business,
which will be revealed by something
mightier than your own need to
verbally spew your life story
into the lives and minds of everyone around you-
some of them strangers!)
You will know you have grown
When listening is just as useful
As speaking
And sometimes even more so.
When there is no need to match
The trauma and joy
Of someone else's life
With that of your own.
You will know you have grown
When all that is weak
All that is hidden
All that is dirty
And loathsome
About you
No longer defines who you are
No longer defines anything
Other than your humanity
Which was given to you purposefully.
You will know you have grown
When you see the light
About yourself
That everyone else
Is talking about.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

What Farmers Do

My impermanence is alarming
At best
I keep trying to focus
On today
What was given to me
Today
Where my joy is found
Today
And all my today's
Drift by
All the while nothing changes
Nothing grows
There is no magic beans
No stalk leading up to heaven
There is just work
Digging
Plowing
Sowing
Tending
And then reaping
The reaping comes in a flash
And then passes
Leaving a new season
Of work
A good friend once told me
"Drips and drops"
Find You in those
Rather than waiting
For some downpour
Which may or may not come
I feel on the edge
Of a Great Depression
Where I must learn to
Store and save and ration
It means patience
Diligence
And faith

Raising my face to the sky
Enamoured with the dreams
Of drips and drops