Showing posts with label New Years. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Years. Show all posts
Friday, September 10, 2010
6 years
This time of the year is always really, really hard for me.
Last year, I really got it out in this post.
I got a lot of flack for it, by people who think I should "move on" or "get over it."
I have a bit of a news flash for you. When something serious changes in your life, especially as a young child, it takes a lot of time and effort to process and work through.
Basically, for me at 14, it was like a death.
You don't just "bounce" back (yes, that is a movie quote). You CAN'T pretend like it didn't seriously wound your heart or change who you are as a person.
At this point, this year, I think I can claim to be much better. I spent my anniversary driving around old familiar places. My grandmother does not like the word, but I have my own personal definition.
I found closure.
Yes, I was deeply wounded.
They have changed me, made me who I am today.
And, I have accepted myself for who I am.
The wounds have scarred over, for the most part, and I have found a reason to keep my heart alive still. I have finally reached the point of accepting that I live here. That I will be in the United States for the rest of my life, except for occasional itching-feet-vacations.
Yeah, for those who did not know I have hated being here for years.
I am also moving on as far as blaming. I blamed a lot of people for what happened, and mostly myself. I was young and I felt that I could have changed things if only I was better, or done more, or tried harder....or something.
But it had nothing to do with me. Like a pawn in a chess game, I was at the mercy of everything else and could not do much.
I have stopped blaming myself.
When something happens that deeply affects you, it is part of your history. Part of your unique story. Part of your fingerprint. Hiding these things is like hiding an elephant with pink toenails in a cherry tree. People can tell it is there, but they do not have an explanation. Especially, with the people who care about you, hiding things or pretending is a bad idea, and could damage or completely ruin your relationship.
I have begun to talk about what I have been through.
Talking is a healthy thing. Most people are not mind readers.
Lastly, I have been allowing the possibility of forgiveness. Yes, very bad decisions lead to years of pain, dysfunction, and stupid crap. It caused way too much chaos in the lives of hundreds of people. Yes, hundreds!! Every person affects other people, who in turn affect others. No one can repair the damage without humility and sincere honesty. I cannot repent of anything that I have not done. But I can free the other person from the place of anger, resentment, and fear in which I have imprisoned them. They have been pushed far enough away that they cannot cause me pain. I free them to work before God with all their serious problems.
I let go.
And now I wait with open hands.
Last year, I really got it out in this post.
I got a lot of flack for it, by people who think I should "move on" or "get over it."
I have a bit of a news flash for you. When something serious changes in your life, especially as a young child, it takes a lot of time and effort to process and work through.
Basically, for me at 14, it was like a death.
You don't just "bounce" back (yes, that is a movie quote). You CAN'T pretend like it didn't seriously wound your heart or change who you are as a person.
At this point, this year, I think I can claim to be much better. I spent my anniversary driving around old familiar places. My grandmother does not like the word, but I have my own personal definition.
I found closure.
Yes, I was deeply wounded.
They have changed me, made me who I am today.
And, I have accepted myself for who I am.
The wounds have scarred over, for the most part, and I have found a reason to keep my heart alive still. I have finally reached the point of accepting that I live here. That I will be in the United States for the rest of my life, except for occasional itching-feet-vacations.
Yeah, for those who did not know I have hated being here for years.
I am also moving on as far as blaming. I blamed a lot of people for what happened, and mostly myself. I was young and I felt that I could have changed things if only I was better, or done more, or tried harder....or something.
But it had nothing to do with me. Like a pawn in a chess game, I was at the mercy of everything else and could not do much.
I have stopped blaming myself.
When something happens that deeply affects you, it is part of your history. Part of your unique story. Part of your fingerprint. Hiding these things is like hiding an elephant with pink toenails in a cherry tree. People can tell it is there, but they do not have an explanation. Especially, with the people who care about you, hiding things or pretending is a bad idea, and could damage or completely ruin your relationship.
I have begun to talk about what I have been through.
Talking is a healthy thing. Most people are not mind readers.
Lastly, I have been allowing the possibility of forgiveness. Yes, very bad decisions lead to years of pain, dysfunction, and stupid crap. It caused way too much chaos in the lives of hundreds of people. Yes, hundreds!! Every person affects other people, who in turn affect others. No one can repair the damage without humility and sincere honesty. I cannot repent of anything that I have not done. But I can free the other person from the place of anger, resentment, and fear in which I have imprisoned them. They have been pushed far enough away that they cannot cause me pain. I free them to work before God with all their serious problems.
I let go.
And now I wait with open hands.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Job 42:5-6
My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.
Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.
Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Mishmash
The moon is full for the next few days.
"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" is my top song
It is that time of year again.
I am glad to say that (probably due to not-thinking-about-it, or complete exhaustion (my mom keeps complaining about the dark circles under my eyes), or other-more-emotionally-draining issues) I am not as depressed as I was last year.
I even smiled at the moon tonight.
"Well it's a marvelous night for a moon-dance, with the stars up above in your eyes..."
Oh, and I like that movie.
Yet, for all the pretending and rutting-out-of-mind, deep in the pit of my stomach I know how hard it will be....
"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" is my top song
It is that time of year again.
I am glad to say that (probably due to not-thinking-about-it, or complete exhaustion (my mom keeps complaining about the dark circles under my eyes), or other-more-emotionally-draining issues) I am not as depressed as I was last year.
I even smiled at the moon tonight.
"Well it's a marvelous night for a moon-dance, with the stars up above in your eyes..."
Oh, and I like that movie.
Yet, for all the pretending and rutting-out-of-mind, deep in the pit of my stomach I know how hard it will be....
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Today
The title is actually misleading. because it was today, 5 years ago, that I am thinking of.
5 years ago, I took one last look at everything I had ever called "home."
5 years ago, I left everything I loved that did not fit in my allotted portion of the 70lb boxes we could take on the airplane.
5 years ago, I gave my cats one last hug, and never saw them again.
5 years ago, I turned away, and stepped into the waiting van.
5 years ago, I stepped into an airplane.
5 years ago, that airplane lifted me high up and 11 thousand miles away from all of that.
5 years ago, I lost my heart somewhere in that green-and-white-and-blue ocean and island.
5 years ago, I buried it deep, where no one could find it. Maybe it is not dead, though. Maybe someone found it and kept it safe for me.
5 years ago, I wanted to die.
5 years ago, today, was the hardest day of my life.
Are these wounds healed? Have I found a new life and meaning here in this country? Has God been working in me?
To answer the last question: Yes
To answer the first question: No, otherwise I would not be weeping my heart out as I type.
As for the middle question: I don't know. I have tried to understand and reach out and be acceptable. I still feel like an outsider, a loner, and a foreigner. I have formed some deep friendships. But my roots are still volatile. In shock. Fearful. Distrusting.
Life is never easy. But today, as it was 5 years ago, life is intolerable.
5 years ago, I took one last look at everything I had ever called "home."
5 years ago, I left everything I loved that did not fit in my allotted portion of the 70lb boxes we could take on the airplane.
5 years ago, I gave my cats one last hug, and never saw them again.
5 years ago, I turned away, and stepped into the waiting van.
5 years ago, I stepped into an airplane.
5 years ago, that airplane lifted me high up and 11 thousand miles away from all of that.
5 years ago, I lost my heart somewhere in that green-and-white-and-blue ocean and island.
5 years ago, I buried it deep, where no one could find it. Maybe it is not dead, though. Maybe someone found it and kept it safe for me.
5 years ago, I wanted to die.
5 years ago, today, was the hardest day of my life.
Are these wounds healed? Have I found a new life and meaning here in this country? Has God been working in me?
To answer the last question: Yes
To answer the first question: No, otherwise I would not be weeping my heart out as I type.
As for the middle question: I don't know. I have tried to understand and reach out and be acceptable. I still feel like an outsider, a loner, and a foreigner. I have formed some deep friendships. But my roots are still volatile. In shock. Fearful. Distrusting.
Life is never easy. But today, as it was 5 years ago, life is intolerable.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Bearing-the-Cost
Just then, she looked up at the cliffs above her head and [saw]. In a tiny crevice of the rock, where a few drops from the trickling waterfall could occasionally sprinkle it, was a single plant. It had just two or three leaves, and one fragile stem, almost hairlike in its slenderness, grew out at right angles to the wall. On the stem was one flower, blood red in color, which glowed like a lamp or flame of fire in the early rays of the sun.
Much-Afraid stared at it for some moments, noticing the wall which completely imprisoned it, the miniature aperture through which it had forced its way to the light, and the barren loneliness of its surroundings. Its roots were clamped around by sheer rock, its leaves scarcely able to press outside the prison house, yet it had insisted upon bursting into bloom, and was holding its little face open to the sun and burning like a flame of joy. As she looked up at it Much-Afraid asked..."What is your name, little flower, for indeed I never saw another like you."
At that moment the sun touched the blood-red petals so that they shone more vividly than ever, and a little whisper rustled from the leaves.
"My name is 'Bearing-the-Cost,' but some call me 'Forgiveness.'"
She gazed at the little flower and said..."Why do they call you that?"
Once more, a little whispering laugh passed through the leaves and she thought she heard them say, "I was separated from all my companions, exiled from home, carried here and imprisoned in this rock. It was not my choice, but the work of others who, when they had dropped me here, went away and left me to bear the results of what they had done.
"I have borne and have not fainted; I have not ceased to love; and Love helped me push through the crack in the rock until I could look right out onto my Love the sun himself. See now! There is nothing whatever between my Love and my heart, nothing around to distract me from him. He shines upon me and makes me to rejoice, and has atoned to me for all that was taken from me and done against me. There is no flower in all the world more blessed or more satisfied than I, for I look up to him as a weaned child and say, 'Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire but thee.'"
Much-Afraid stared at it for some moments, noticing the wall which completely imprisoned it, the miniature aperture through which it had forced its way to the light, and the barren loneliness of its surroundings. Its roots were clamped around by sheer rock, its leaves scarcely able to press outside the prison house, yet it had insisted upon bursting into bloom, and was holding its little face open to the sun and burning like a flame of joy. As she looked up at it Much-Afraid asked..."What is your name, little flower, for indeed I never saw another like you."
At that moment the sun touched the blood-red petals so that they shone more vividly than ever, and a little whisper rustled from the leaves.
"My name is 'Bearing-the-Cost,' but some call me 'Forgiveness.'"
She gazed at the little flower and said..."Why do they call you that?"
Once more, a little whispering laugh passed through the leaves and she thought she heard them say, "I was separated from all my companions, exiled from home, carried here and imprisoned in this rock. It was not my choice, but the work of others who, when they had dropped me here, went away and left me to bear the results of what they had done.
"I have borne and have not fainted; I have not ceased to love; and Love helped me push through the crack in the rock until I could look right out onto my Love the sun himself. See now! There is nothing whatever between my Love and my heart, nothing around to distract me from him. He shines upon me and makes me to rejoice, and has atoned to me for all that was taken from me and done against me. There is no flower in all the world more blessed or more satisfied than I, for I look up to him as a weaned child and say, 'Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire but thee.'"
Labels:
Bible,
books,
Hinds Feet quotes,
New Years,
quotes
Monday, July 20, 2009
Pieces
Having grown up in a culture other than the one my parents grew up in, I have a mixture of the two that is the definition of me.
It has been almost 5 years (4 Years 10 months 10 days, and I've lost count of the hours now...) since I left the culture that I grew up in. I have used the language only slightly since then. I keep some parts of it up in songs, thoughts, dreams, and occasional reading of letters that people had/have since then given me. I have felt the steady decline of less-used words. Things don't come as easily, and I sometimes stayed for hours, trying to translate "simple" words that I had completely lost the meanings of. Then, there are the times where random words fly at me, and I instinctively "know" what they mean...and then I begin to question myself. I roll the words around on my tongue, finger the meaning, and try to remember if I was really sure as to its meaning.
Opening my Cebuano Bible is a rare occasion. Every time I do I am confronted with words which I never really understood. I am still somewhat ashamed of how I stuck with the slang, but not that the old words were used that much either. Englisera and mishmash had taken the place of a lot of "functional words". Religious terms thought up/applied by the original Bible/song translators have little normal use in the first place. Almost like a ghetto child would hardly be able to comprehend the meaning of an KJV passage.
Last night, I was suddenly struck with a mental image that I knew I needed to turn into a poem. The problem is, that the image was in Cebuano (don't ask me how, it was), and I could not get the words out of my head. I "knew" but I could not form it into a cohesive word package.
It was then I realised that I was TRANSLATING. I was taking english expressions, phrases, the turn of the words....I was trying to fit them into this Cebuano picture. I could not help but burst into tears. It was like I had lost a peice of myself. I could no longer meld into my other half, the side of me that was brown, with brown eyes and black hair, the side that gets goose-bumps (it had happened) when the temperature is below 65, and others are working up a sweat. Next thing that will happen is that I will forget how to swim!!!!!!!!!!!
Then as I cried, a little voice started coming through. I wrote out the most lovely poem I have ever written. It was a heart-poem in my heart-language (one of them, at least). It came for someone who was struggling. It came from someone who was struggling.
Our struggles make us. Our struggles break us. Our struggles force us to take the little million peices to the foot of God's throne. Our struggles make us say: "Here, You take them, because I am at the end of my rope."
Life is a struggle.
I am in little peices.
Oh, and just an FYI: The poem is not available to read. I often find that putting poems up is a very open/vulnerable thing. When I am dead and my older sister publishes all the bad ones in a posthumous volume, you can look for it and remember.
It has been almost 5 years (4 Years 10 months 10 days, and I've lost count of the hours now...) since I left the culture that I grew up in. I have used the language only slightly since then. I keep some parts of it up in songs, thoughts, dreams, and occasional reading of letters that people had/have since then given me. I have felt the steady decline of less-used words. Things don't come as easily, and I sometimes stayed for hours, trying to translate "simple" words that I had completely lost the meanings of. Then, there are the times where random words fly at me, and I instinctively "know" what they mean...and then I begin to question myself. I roll the words around on my tongue, finger the meaning, and try to remember if I was really sure as to its meaning.
Opening my Cebuano Bible is a rare occasion. Every time I do I am confronted with words which I never really understood. I am still somewhat ashamed of how I stuck with the slang, but not that the old words were used that much either. Englisera and mishmash had taken the place of a lot of "functional words". Religious terms thought up/applied by the original Bible/song translators have little normal use in the first place. Almost like a ghetto child would hardly be able to comprehend the meaning of an KJV passage.
Last night, I was suddenly struck with a mental image that I knew I needed to turn into a poem. The problem is, that the image was in Cebuano (don't ask me how, it was), and I could not get the words out of my head. I "knew" but I could not form it into a cohesive word package.
It was then I realised that I was TRANSLATING. I was taking english expressions, phrases, the turn of the words....I was trying to fit them into this Cebuano picture. I could not help but burst into tears. It was like I had lost a peice of myself. I could no longer meld into my other half, the side of me that was brown, with brown eyes and black hair, the side that gets goose-bumps (it had happened) when the temperature is below 65, and others are working up a sweat. Next thing that will happen is that I will forget how to swim!!!!!!!!!!!
Then as I cried, a little voice started coming through. I wrote out the most lovely poem I have ever written. It was a heart-poem in my heart-language (one of them, at least). It came for someone who was struggling. It came from someone who was struggling.
Our struggles make us. Our struggles break us. Our struggles force us to take the little million peices to the foot of God's throne. Our struggles make us say: "Here, You take them, because I am at the end of my rope."
Life is a struggle.
I am in little peices.
Oh, and just an FYI: The poem is not available to read. I often find that putting poems up is a very open/vulnerable thing. When I am dead and my older sister publishes all the bad ones in a posthumous volume, you can look for it and remember.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
B-Day meditations
I am now 19, dear blog-readers.
Yes, THE age. What is so important? I don't really know. But for some reason, my young mind always saw 19 as THE age.
I would surely be perfect by 19. (rotfl!)
I would be married, or getting married soon. (hey, little girls have all this planned out right?)
I would be jaw-dropping beautiful (it doesn't hurt to wish?)
and most purely loving. (well....even little girls exaggerate sometimes)
Now, I am 19.
Well...... you can see for yourself!
Yes, THE age. What is so important? I don't really know. But for some reason, my young mind always saw 19 as THE age.
I would surely be perfect by 19. (rotfl!)
I would be married, or getting married soon. (hey, little girls have all this planned out right?)
I would be jaw-dropping beautiful (it doesn't hurt to wish?)
and most purely loving. (well....even little girls exaggerate sometimes)
Now, I am 19.
Well...... you can see for yourself!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
New Years
These seem to be a repeating post factor on my blog.
(I just went back and re-read my previous "new years" posts)
New Years rolls around again. I suddenly get gripped by a terrible panic in my chest. I NEED the sea, I NEED to be out in the gazebo with everyone, I NEED to see some light-brown faces and I NEED to sing my heart out. I NEED to walk down to the dagat and watch the sunrise while the boys do flips and "karate". I NEED to walk back to the house all light-hearted and looking forward to a new year. Laughing at everyone being sleepy-silly, talking with special people about new year resolutions. I NEED to wave goodbye to everyone in the grey light, go inside, clean up and grab a couple hours of sleep. I NEED to wake up and hear some of the boys compare how little they slept and how great they still feel.....
It is interesting how tradition affects one.
It is hard how tradition pulls.
(I just went back and re-read my previous "new years" posts)
New Years rolls around again. I suddenly get gripped by a terrible panic in my chest. I NEED the sea, I NEED to be out in the gazebo with everyone, I NEED to see some light-brown faces and I NEED to sing my heart out. I NEED to walk down to the dagat and watch the sunrise while the boys do flips and "karate". I NEED to walk back to the house all light-hearted and looking forward to a new year. Laughing at everyone being sleepy-silly, talking with special people about new year resolutions. I NEED to wave goodbye to everyone in the grey light, go inside, clean up and grab a couple hours of sleep. I NEED to wake up and hear some of the boys compare how little they slept and how great they still feel.....
It is interesting how tradition affects one.
It is hard how tradition pulls.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Psalm 90 meditations
This is not just because of the "New Year", but more what I have been mulling over for a while now...
1 Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations.
2 Before the mountains were brought forth,
Or ever You had formed the earth and the world,
Even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God.
10 The days of our lives are seventy years;
And if by reason of strength they are eighty years,
Yet their boast is only labor and sorrow;
For it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
11 Who knows the power of Your anger?
For as the fear of You, so is Your wrath.
12 So teach us to number our days,
That we may gain a heart of wisdom.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
2007
I didn't stay up all night.
I didn't have sugba.....or go out to the beach to see the sun rise.
No actions, and no singing all night with best of friends.
BUT
I did stay up most of the night.
I watched two movies, and cried my heart out to a 14 year old
I was with some friends.
SO
May 2007 be full of opportunities to glorify God
And may He come quickly!!!
I didn't have sugba.....or go out to the beach to see the sun rise.
No actions, and no singing all night with best of friends.
BUT
I did stay up most of the night.
I watched two movies, and cried my heart out to a 14 year old
I was with some friends.
SO
May 2007 be full of opportunities to glorify God
And may He come quickly!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)