In Order to Blog Again
I haven't posted a blog since January of '14. I feel like fifteen months practically makes me a new blogger! A younger me may have started an entirely new blog site because of how different I feel today, but I concluded some time ago that I'd better accept it's my nature to undergo great changes and cope with it. So, I need cope by building a bridge or I'll never get to writing again! Here is my bridge.
my bridge.
The last time I posted I was engaged and planning a wedding. Today my heart, which once longed so deeply for marriage, is satisfied, and that satisfaction has freed a way for so much change it's hard to grasp. I can't tell you all the topics I've wanted to write about in these ten months of marriage which have so quickly gone by. (The five before that were mostly me planning a wedding, and who has time to blog while wedding planning?) So, what's been happening? First, let's talk practicals.
practicals.
God blessed us with a great desire of my heart - a cottage. I love our little green home and it's large, beautiful yard. I can see lovely old city buildings from every window. From our front porch we watch cars drive over the Alton bridge; we watch barges as they pass down the Mississippi river. We gaze at breathtaking sunsets just over the Catholic church up the hill - whenever the weather is warm and the clouds are right at least. We love to catch storms roll into Illinois from the Missouri side. I've created a little garden and am currently attempting to lay a brick path from our patio to our rock driveway out back. Our neighbors are friendly and the community of Alton is a surprise treasure of eclectic, warm hearts. Ian loves to hang out at a local coffee shop called Maeva's. This past winter I knitted coffee cozies for the shop to sell to its patrons. We get our gas five minutes across the river where the price is twenty cents cheaper.
I am an active housewife and writer. I love cooking, creating a warmer home as the months pass, and I am so excited that since marriage I've been properly inspired to work on my current novel. We have company over often for dinner and games. In our spare time together, Ian and I read, watch movies, write, and play video games. We strive for a life full of joy and celebration. Ian is currently a campus minister. I am immensely proud of his work ethic and approach to our life.
We've been taking care of my family dog, Buddy. How his anxious, jealous heart loved being our only pet. Alas, my heart began to yearn for a pet to call my very own. I prayed for a kitten who would look distinctly beautiful, be social, and also very loving. We were blessed last month to welcome Emma, an elegant, 1 year old, grey oriental, into our home. She is a wonderful blessing with all the attributes I prayed for, and many others. She sleeps on the bed with us every night, to our great amusement and joy, and to Buddy's great annoyance. He is coping slowly but surely with her presence.
We attend the First Christian Church of Wood River where we've fallen in love with the community of Christians we've discovered there. They are a gloriously loving, immensely accepting, greatly fun family. We regularly hang out with many young adults our age at Sunday school, Bible study, and impromptu lunches at our Pastor's house. I am rewarded deeply to know some of the most beautiful young women I'll ever meet.
Yet, life is not all what our human perspectives see as positive. With all my blessed practicals, however, were attached great emotional trials.
emotional trials.
It probably isn't sufficient for me to simply say, "I was wounded," but for the respect of those involved, I can't say too much about that. I can state that I came from places of intense emotional oppression and theological frustration into a clarity of living too peaceful and sound for me to feel I could trust it. I doubted that God be so good to me. I encountered a heartbreaking falling out and a painful separation from a world expecting of me things that God did not. Marrying Ian was a vehicle to freedom from the pressure of wrongful expectations and recovery from a wound I didn't know I had. I hadn't felt its depth until the wound began to heal in the amazing light of a Christian man's love who leads me daily in the firm, simple truths of the word; joyous comfort of a family of believers who simply love to enjoy life alongside me; and a best friend who, without having discovered her abounding adoration and love, I'd have been wounded still today.
I've made a drastic switch of church cultures from that in which I was raised in and was familiar. Differences abound - such as worship style, theology, approach to the Christian life, and, to my reward and furthering humility, perspective. This is a beautiful challenge because I see God more deeply, yet He seems harder to engage with intimately - via an internal way as I was told it should be. He is forever the life in my bones so, of course, I crave nothing more than to be closer to Him relationally. However, in realizing I naturally existed in the box of my church culture, it's hard to trust and see clearly what's outside of that box - an existence I struggle to imagine. Yet somehow I do see Him more clearly here. I wouldn't be able to cope with this crazy paradox without my gracious, patient husband guiding me. It's an ongoing, beautiful challenge which continuously enriches the perspectives of my heart.
I've felt the shock of intimate Christian friends choose to deny me a goodness, the very goodness that they claim to strive for in all things and which they expected of me. It was like getting hit with a brick in both my head and heart with no evidence of where it came from. For a long time no conversation existed to help me cope. When the conversations finally did come, they were so long later that I had already felt the struggle of healing occur and pass. It was shocking and incredibly beautiful when they came back to me because I was able to let them walk upon a solid place that had once been erupting with anger and hurt. I felt a reality of forgiveness which reflected Christ's maturity for the first time. I can feel Christ's love more real and mature in me today than I ever have and it's so strange because it takes such different forms than I thought it would and was even told it would.
I've come face to face with black brothers and sisters in Christ who cry out from an oppression I was horrified to discover I partner daily to create within my white culture. The great social injustices placed against my African American family are impossible to explain to a white world which blinds itself, and I feel heart heavy even when I'm not actively aware of it for not knowing what to do; knowing that in my heart heaviness I still barely scratch the surface of the despair of never being allowed to be myself to get ahead in life and, worse, not having the full freedom to be who God created me to be in a world where the family of Christ is called to reflect His personality - including His love for all cultures and his appreciation for their individual characteristics. I feel helpless under the understanding that nothing I write about social injustice will seem to the blinded white heart more than a half meaningful, overly sensitive, personal revelation not meant for everyone who walks in the love of Christ. I can do nothing but wait upon the Lord, and I struggle with feeling that it's not enough to do because not enough Christians are listening to Him for me to believe change will happen; which means for once I can relate to a feeling my black sisters struggle to cope with every day.
And this means there are a massive amount of other social injustices I've yet to learn about, which also happen to matter to God. He's greatly blessed me though, while I've been so frustrated. There are Christians who see it. They are few and come out of the most unexpected places, but they exist. Without them I think I'd feel entirely lost of hope. In all the changes God places pocket treasures of blessings to comfort me and give me peace.
peace.
These things have changed me so much and have been in progress over such a long period of time I haven't felt I could write about them properly. Still today I can only express to my readers that they're real. I can't find the right way to talk about them in true detail. However, I've finally come to a place where I find peace within pain. I find peace while allowing remaining wounds to heal and with things which cause pain every day and seem impossible to fix. God gives me that unimaginable peace and I've finally allowed myself to accept it enough that I could make a bridge. From here on out who knows what I'll post! I'm thinking of posting a tutorial on the ottoman I recently made. Whatever it is, I promise it won't take so long to read! (:
my bridge.
The last time I posted I was engaged and planning a wedding. Today my heart, which once longed so deeply for marriage, is satisfied, and that satisfaction has freed a way for so much change it's hard to grasp. I can't tell you all the topics I've wanted to write about in these ten months of marriage which have so quickly gone by. (The five before that were mostly me planning a wedding, and who has time to blog while wedding planning?) So, what's been happening? First, let's talk practicals.
practicals.
God blessed us with a great desire of my heart - a cottage. I love our little green home and it's large, beautiful yard. I can see lovely old city buildings from every window. From our front porch we watch cars drive over the Alton bridge; we watch barges as they pass down the Mississippi river. We gaze at breathtaking sunsets just over the Catholic church up the hill - whenever the weather is warm and the clouds are right at least. We love to catch storms roll into Illinois from the Missouri side. I've created a little garden and am currently attempting to lay a brick path from our patio to our rock driveway out back. Our neighbors are friendly and the community of Alton is a surprise treasure of eclectic, warm hearts. Ian loves to hang out at a local coffee shop called Maeva's. This past winter I knitted coffee cozies for the shop to sell to its patrons. We get our gas five minutes across the river where the price is twenty cents cheaper.
I am an active housewife and writer. I love cooking, creating a warmer home as the months pass, and I am so excited that since marriage I've been properly inspired to work on my current novel. We have company over often for dinner and games. In our spare time together, Ian and I read, watch movies, write, and play video games. We strive for a life full of joy and celebration. Ian is currently a campus minister. I am immensely proud of his work ethic and approach to our life.
We've been taking care of my family dog, Buddy. How his anxious, jealous heart loved being our only pet. Alas, my heart began to yearn for a pet to call my very own. I prayed for a kitten who would look distinctly beautiful, be social, and also very loving. We were blessed last month to welcome Emma, an elegant, 1 year old, grey oriental, into our home. She is a wonderful blessing with all the attributes I prayed for, and many others. She sleeps on the bed with us every night, to our great amusement and joy, and to Buddy's great annoyance. He is coping slowly but surely with her presence.
We attend the First Christian Church of Wood River where we've fallen in love with the community of Christians we've discovered there. They are a gloriously loving, immensely accepting, greatly fun family. We regularly hang out with many young adults our age at Sunday school, Bible study, and impromptu lunches at our Pastor's house. I am rewarded deeply to know some of the most beautiful young women I'll ever meet.
Yet, life is not all what our human perspectives see as positive. With all my blessed practicals, however, were attached great emotional trials.
emotional trials.
It probably isn't sufficient for me to simply say, "I was wounded," but for the respect of those involved, I can't say too much about that. I can state that I came from places of intense emotional oppression and theological frustration into a clarity of living too peaceful and sound for me to feel I could trust it. I doubted that God be so good to me. I encountered a heartbreaking falling out and a painful separation from a world expecting of me things that God did not. Marrying Ian was a vehicle to freedom from the pressure of wrongful expectations and recovery from a wound I didn't know I had. I hadn't felt its depth until the wound began to heal in the amazing light of a Christian man's love who leads me daily in the firm, simple truths of the word; joyous comfort of a family of believers who simply love to enjoy life alongside me; and a best friend who, without having discovered her abounding adoration and love, I'd have been wounded still today.
I've made a drastic switch of church cultures from that in which I was raised in and was familiar. Differences abound - such as worship style, theology, approach to the Christian life, and, to my reward and furthering humility, perspective. This is a beautiful challenge because I see God more deeply, yet He seems harder to engage with intimately - via an internal way as I was told it should be. He is forever the life in my bones so, of course, I crave nothing more than to be closer to Him relationally. However, in realizing I naturally existed in the box of my church culture, it's hard to trust and see clearly what's outside of that box - an existence I struggle to imagine. Yet somehow I do see Him more clearly here. I wouldn't be able to cope with this crazy paradox without my gracious, patient husband guiding me. It's an ongoing, beautiful challenge which continuously enriches the perspectives of my heart.
I've felt the shock of intimate Christian friends choose to deny me a goodness, the very goodness that they claim to strive for in all things and which they expected of me. It was like getting hit with a brick in both my head and heart with no evidence of where it came from. For a long time no conversation existed to help me cope. When the conversations finally did come, they were so long later that I had already felt the struggle of healing occur and pass. It was shocking and incredibly beautiful when they came back to me because I was able to let them walk upon a solid place that had once been erupting with anger and hurt. I felt a reality of forgiveness which reflected Christ's maturity for the first time. I can feel Christ's love more real and mature in me today than I ever have and it's so strange because it takes such different forms than I thought it would and was even told it would.
I've come face to face with black brothers and sisters in Christ who cry out from an oppression I was horrified to discover I partner daily to create within my white culture. The great social injustices placed against my African American family are impossible to explain to a white world which blinds itself, and I feel heart heavy even when I'm not actively aware of it for not knowing what to do; knowing that in my heart heaviness I still barely scratch the surface of the despair of never being allowed to be myself to get ahead in life and, worse, not having the full freedom to be who God created me to be in a world where the family of Christ is called to reflect His personality - including His love for all cultures and his appreciation for their individual characteristics. I feel helpless under the understanding that nothing I write about social injustice will seem to the blinded white heart more than a half meaningful, overly sensitive, personal revelation not meant for everyone who walks in the love of Christ. I can do nothing but wait upon the Lord, and I struggle with feeling that it's not enough to do because not enough Christians are listening to Him for me to believe change will happen; which means for once I can relate to a feeling my black sisters struggle to cope with every day.
And this means there are a massive amount of other social injustices I've yet to learn about, which also happen to matter to God. He's greatly blessed me though, while I've been so frustrated. There are Christians who see it. They are few and come out of the most unexpected places, but they exist. Without them I think I'd feel entirely lost of hope. In all the changes God places pocket treasures of blessings to comfort me and give me peace.
peace.
These things have changed me so much and have been in progress over such a long period of time I haven't felt I could write about them properly. Still today I can only express to my readers that they're real. I can't find the right way to talk about them in true detail. However, I've finally come to a place where I find peace within pain. I find peace while allowing remaining wounds to heal and with things which cause pain every day and seem impossible to fix. God gives me that unimaginable peace and I've finally allowed myself to accept it enough that I could make a bridge. From here on out who knows what I'll post! I'm thinking of posting a tutorial on the ottoman I recently made. Whatever it is, I promise it won't take so long to read! (:
Ian blessed me with roses.
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