Baby, it's cold outside.

I'm failing terribly at doing my homework tonight. But hey, it's a Friday. I can slack for an evening, right? Maybe?

Here's a poem. A Shakespearean sonnet actually. Based very roughly on true events.

The winter bites and cold winds chill my soul
And frigid air does nip my poor red nose.
What I would do for a warm lump of coal!
My ears could crack and break off, I suppose.
I look to you as you trudge through the snow,
Your hunched and tired body pushing on.
Your sideways glance leaves me to feel hollow
My hands are growing pale, my face is wan.
My soul and body ache with sore longing
For icy eyes to turn to me and melt.
I need to feel some semblance of a thawing
Instead of pelting sleet that that I have felt.
But when you chose to hold my hand in yours,
You warmed my heart in this frosty outdoors.


God bless.

Shy is Okay

Okay, so it's totally a trend right now, especially on blogs and such, to be like, "I'm this way and that's okay! So stop hatin'!" (Eventually hopefully people get the picture and we won't have to keep doing this for every characteristic under the sun.) Well, I'm going to be super original and do the exact same thing for a trait that I don't think has been widely addressed yet: shyness.

A big thing that people have been nobly trying to raise awareness of lately is introversion. I am an introvert, so I appreciate the hoopla. Maybe the world will finally understand me and my kind!

But many of the articles and things that talk about introversion always make this point: being introverted does not mean being shy. As if shyness is a bad thing and introverted people should be offended when people accuse them of it.

Well, I'm shy, okay? I'm both introverted and shy. Is this an inherent flaw in my personality? Pshhh.

A lot of people would be slightly to severely shocked if I told them this. Yes, I have lots of friends. I have fun. I can certainly be loud. I've taught myself (sort of) to talk to strangers. See how I can't be put in a box? Is anyone else noticing that boxes are stupid? (I also addressed this about two years ago in Stereotypes Are Bad.)

The world has taught me that it's bad to be shy. That I have to come out of my shell right away. Let me tell you: coming out of my shell organically is wonderful. Coming out prematurely is painful. It can yield wonderful results, maybe, but it's really, really hard and unnatural. But if I don't rush it, I'm lonely. I'm labeled "the quiet one." So I have to come out.

Anyway, what's wrong with being shy? What's wrong with taking my time to warm up to people (which is really all shyness is--for me anyway). Nothing. Nothing is wrong with that.

I guess I thought I had more of an argument to make, but that's all I have. Shyness is okay. Please be okay with it. That's my point. The end.


God bless.

In the World, Not of it

I mistakenly thought that the phrase "Be in this world, but not of it" was in the Bible. It is not, but there are passages that strongly allude to such an idea, such as John 15:19, 17:14-19 and Romans 12:2.

I see Christians that lean more toward "in the world" side of things and Christians that lean more toward the "not of the world" side (the latter perhaps seeming prude and old-fashioned). Which side is better to take? What should the balance be? Heck if I know. But I'm going to talk about it anyway.

Here's an illustration: I know Christians who do not drink, do not visit bars, and avoid associating with drunk people and "partiers."I know others who say, "In order to reach out to the drinkers and the partiers, we must be like them, to show them that we're normal, sane, relatable people."

Perhaps I err in choosing a topic in which I know where I stand (however, I fail to live up to my own standards). I think the middle ground is most appropriate. Although many modern Christians believe drinking is in itself, wrong, the Bible says nothing of the kind (not that there are not perfectly legitimate reasons to abstain). What the Bible does say is that drunkenness is wrong. So, as Christians, we have options. We have the freedom to attend parties, to drink, to befriend other people who do so, but we are not to abandon all moral principle for the sake of those we are trying to relate and reach out to.

Here is another instance where the middle ground is probably most appropriate, but where I see many people trying too hard to be "in the world." Many Christians have given up any semblance of verbal purity. It no longer matters if a particular word is "improper" or not; say it! Put people at ease! There is no such thing as proper and improper anymore. It was recently pointed out to me that many modern pastors have started throwing cuss words into their sermons and everyday language. Pastors cannot be without sin, of course, but their behavior is actually encouraged. It helps them "relate" to the people. It makes them more "approachable." However, the Bible has a lot to say about keeping the mouth and tongue pure.

I, personally, try to be "not of this world" in this arena; I don't use cuss words at all unless I am quoting or reading something, and even then I try to censor what I say. There are certainly many other ways that I have impure speech that I need to work on. Some people love how unfiltered and borderline vulgar I can be at times; I am rude and offensive and sarcastic, either for blunt honesty's sake or for the sake of humor, but I see these as areas I desperately need to work on.

How, then, do I respond to other people who do not have pure speech? Do I reject them? Do I become offended by their words? Do I accept them with no questions asked? Do I lovingly point out their sin? I find that if someone, especially a non-Christian, is talking to me and they use a cuss word and, sensing my stance on proper/improper language, apologize, I shrug and say, "I don't mind at all. I don't say those words, but I don't mind hearing them." Is it right for me to say this? Is it even true? (Not really.) Sometimes I really am offended! Is it right for be to be? Should I just get over it? Is it loving to allow this behavior? Is it unloving to be offended by it? Or is my personal purity more important? I don't have the answer to this.

It is obviously important to be "set-apart" and refrain from sin at any cost. But to what degree must we be in the world (rather than retreating to our Christian bubbles, as I so often find myself doing)? How much must we immerse and surround ourselves with the culture, without actively participating in it? Must we put ourselves in tempting situations on behalf of the world, hoping that we stand up under the temptation and do not sin? The fact of the matter is that here we are, on Planet Earth. And the fact of the matter is that we are aliens here, mere visitors. Our citizenship is in Heaven. When in Rome, do we do as the Romans do? Or do remember our identity as Americans and behave as such?

Please post your thoughts in the comment section below, or other examples if you can think of any. I would love to dialogue about this.


God bless.

Unfinished Poem

I was recently reminded of this (true) poem that I began almost exactly a year ago. I worked on it for several months, then got stuck on how to continue or end it. It may never be finished, I suppose, as no true story ever is, but what I have here rounds out fairly well. You may notice a strict pattern when it comes to the number of syllables per line and stanza.

Two lifted eyelids revealed

Warmth from the other side of the room--

Breathing, blushing, under her halo of hair.

She was a clear oasis

That dying men desperately needed,

Causing falling to knees and weeping relief.

A bird that flies in the sky

And hopes to make an awed impression

May not be noticed by every pretty eye.

Such it was with the poor wretch;

A dying man or a flapping bird,

And indeed he got her glance, which was something.

The dreadful seize in his heart

From then on, her every appearance

Shattered him with the blunt fact that he loved her.

It was the sound of her name

The echo and trail of her footprints

That caused him to set sail into the unknown.

She saw him as a meek child

Ducking safely behind his mother.

When curious boys find bugs, their eyes are wide.

Vases are filled with water

Or with hardening cement as chains

But her vase was filled with blood and she heard him.

When vases fall to the floor,

The shattering glass is like laughter.

And so both were fooled into believing it.

Their lives were magnets that won’t

Decide if they want to pull or push

But knew if the hands let go, they would unite.

Instead they thrived in a world

That was imaginary, painted

Created by stupid dreamers in love.

When God grips hearts, he squeezes.

Fresh blood and tears roll down his forearm

But he cries too, and sweats blood. He’s waiting too.

When her vase was shattering,

He said, “God may hear you, I suppose,

“But he never has and never will hear me.”

Love was a salmon he chased.

Futile, he swims; it slides from his grip.

But now it leapt to him because of his need.

Love should not be a hotel.

It should be a house, mortgage paid off.

It was not her fault she was just a hotel.

God fills voids we least expect.

He had a void, and her void was his.

So he was empty, and she felt the same way.

The void’s memory she tried

To push out between cracks in her skull

But it whispered to her, murdered in secret.

His lived in a well, his void,

A home he could not forget was his

But he tried and failed to climb out after her.

She left, the end, why not die?

How often can one say he is loved?

Perhaps only as often as one is born.

A birth begins a new life

And then that life lives and dies somehow

And so when love had probably died, no more.

Breathe in, breathe out. Slow, slow down.

That’s what carbon monoxide will do.

Breathe in, drain. Breath in, drain. Breath in, drain. Until.

The God of Love will find you

He will scrub your lungs and pick you up

But you won’t know yet why your feet feel your weight.

He finds her panicked weeping
Because love hasn’t died, nor can it.
Prayers rise like incense till God comes in a storm.

God bless.