East and West.

Looking back, even only as far as yesterday, my vision is blurred by my failures, my lapses in judgement, my mistakes, my shortcomings. This last year seems to have been filled with things such as these, and when I review it as a whole, they are all I see. I have not seen the new insights they have provided. I have not seen the ways in which they have allowed me to become more self-reflexive in both thought and feeling. And – this is the pivotal point – worst of all, I have not allowed myself to fully experience grace; a conviction I have always held on to tightly and made my song, and something that I have always tried to impart on others.

Love, forgiveness, grace.

I allowed myself to become consumed by my own guilt. And yes, by ‘consumed’ I mean destroyed, burned up, devoured. It affected the way I viewed and approached new situations in which I found myself, even though they presented me with opportunities for something new – untouched by hurt or shame. I feel as though I have been stumbling around in darkness, constantly looking behind me, and never ahead. I have let those things dictate to me, and let them erode at who and what I have known and believed myself to be. I have been living in the past, almost intentionally, and have allowed this to blind me in the present.

In the last few weeks I have realised that I have been a complete hypocrite. Though perhaps not in the conventional sense. I have believed in grace and forgiveness for those around me whole-heartedly. Though when I turn those same principles back on to myself, I don’t believe them with quite the same confidence. Perhaps “believe” isn’t the right word, but I haven’t allowed myself to experience them in all their richness. How can I believe in the gospel strongly when it comes to others, yet deny it in myself? Aren’t times such as these exactly what Christ spoke about when He said that we have been called by new name? Isn’t this exactly what the Father meant when He promised to remove our transgressions from us as far as the East is from the West?

And what has this time of self-condemnation contributed to my life? Absolutely nothing. It has blinded me, and caused me to backpedal in every sense. I haven’t allowed myself to see ‘me’ as Christ sees me. Instead, I have accepted a distorted image of myself, and let my mistakes call me by name, rather than letting Him, the sovereign creator of all, do so. Which gospel am I following then? Have I been blatantly denying God’s love and grace – throwing them back in His face? Grace isn’t something that can be earned. None of us can change our wrong-doings, but we can accept that the love and grace He gives us so freely, were bought at a price. Grace isn’t a commodity, which we can choose to make use of how and when we please. Isn’t the whole point that we never deserved any of it? And the irony of it all, is that I’ve known this all along.




The Hoard - As Cities Burn:

They say that good boys walk straight on white lines
Good boys keep their livers clean
And smoke out of their lungs
‘Cause it's all about what you've done
Good boys don't make mistakes to learn from

‘Cause when heaven comes
They won't be caught being young

Grace make your way to the well
To those who deserve it
After all they've earned it
But vain, its in vain
‘Cause they don't need it

They're steady breathers
Who won't lift a finger for the gasping weaker
You just hoard your hollow completion
Like it's something wearing thin
Like it's gonna get you in
When heaven comes

‘Cause when heaven comes
I swear it comes in love

Grace make your way to the well
To those who deserve it
After all they've earned it
But vain, it's in vain
‘Cause they don't need it

Now I let go of your hand somewhere between
Love and what it demands of me
Grace, make your way…



I’m a silly sinner, but I never want to throw what He did back in his face, ever again. I am no more (or less) deserving of His grace today than I was yesterday.

Dirty and Left out.

Jesus, Jesus.

There's something about your name.

Master.
Saviour.

Jesus.

Rainy days and infancy.

Tuesday, 13:25pm

It's storming outside. This morning I started my day by stumbling up the copious amount of steps that lead to my university, with the rain pelting down on my friend and I like frozen bullets, as we frantically clung to her flimsy umbrella (which only served to make the cold rain water run down our into sleeves), only to attend a series of lectures that made me wonder why I hadn't just chosen to stay in bed instead. I am currently tired, wet, hungry and cold. Complain much?

But none of that matters. Contrary to my natural inclination, in my 5.5 hours of being awake and experiencing this day, I have taken the time to notice the small, imperfect joys that we tend to overlook. Ironically, as I learned in the first (and only) ten minutes that I attended of my Psychology lecture, an infant appreciates each new texture, sight and smell, however mundane it may seem to us in later life. An infant cannot yet decipher whether this new thing is good or bad, or whether it will serve as a benefit it or not. Because it is simply that: New. A treasure in the midst of what we (arrogantly?) classify as mundane. I am trying to take that approach today.

Today, I delighted in running up those steps with my best friend, laughing and squealing like children. I took pleasure in watching the hot steam escape from the small opening of the plastic cover of my cup of coffee(as I braved the rain once again) and seeing how it mingled with the rain drops and frozen air, only to disappear into the fresh greyness. I was thankful that the sick, sinking feeling didn't appear, even when I had expected it to. I marvelled at the way the clouds looked like green ships in the sky. I truly appreciated spending time with a friend who has lived across the road for a year now, and sharing our fears and failures like they were the most natural thing in the world. It gladdened me to see a somewhat tired but sincere smile reappear after its temporary departure, and the way it lifted my spirits when it did. I felt grateful to wake up this morning feeling entirely at peace once again (even if just for a day). And I will love switching my light off tonight, knowing that I am being held in gracious, faithful and everlasting arms.

For a cynic, I'm pretty optimistic today.

Like a yoyo.

New habits and Night Drives.

(15 August, 23:45pm).

I have developed a new habit over the last while. It started on a night when that sinking, nauseous feeling finally hit me, after I’d managed to circumvent it for awhile. And when it finally (and irrevocably) arrived, it caught me so completely off guard, that I couldn’t face going home to an empty room and a head splitting at the seams, for all the hurt and confusion and frustration. I found myself driving late that night, as far as the street lights of that particular road would take me, music blaring. And all I could do was drive and sing and pray, beseeching God for His grace, until that awful suffocating feeling dissipated.

Since then, perhaps once every two or three days, I drive along that same route. In those awful moments, the music and the flickering street lights of that road are what I need to keep myself grounded.

I drove tonight and completely let loose. The songs I listened to in particular were two of my favourites: "The Widow" by As Cities Burn and "Jesus Christ" by Brand New. These lyrics stir me every time I hear them:

Jesus Christ – Brand New:

“I know you'll come in the night like a thief
But I've had some time alone to hold my lies inside me
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust
But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up

So do you think that we could work out a sign
So I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try

I know you'll come for the people like me
But we all got wood and nails
Tongue tied to a hating factory”

The Widow – As Cities Burn:

“But I believe there is something here to be learned of grace
'Cause I can't help but love you
No I can't help but love you, even with a heart that breaks, like
The promises that you made
Like the promises that you made
The promises that you made.

No, I can't help but love you.

My God, what a world you love.”

Alice in Wonderland.

Okay, so I decided that my first post needed to be about something that excites me. One of the items on the top of my list of excitement, is Alice in Wonderland. Lewis Carol, you are a wonderful man, and I refuse to believe that you were a paedophile, just because you wrote the Alice stories on a boat with a little girl. Disney's film version of the story has been one of my favourites since childhood. BUT, the Tim Burton version will be coming out soon. I CANNOT wait. I know it's going to be beyond amazing. Here is a trailer and some images. Absolutely beautiful. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hiPR6kA4_iU

Hello.

I have a blog. Good for me. Let's hope I actually use it.