The Exchange

12-06-14---12-07-14

Let me lavish you with beauty
That overwhelms the soul.
Let me sample you a moment
Of bliss to call you to my side.

Me extrañas,
Cuando estoy lejos?
Me recuerdas,
A cruzar la mirada
Con la luna?
No me olvides
Te espero
Ansiosamente.
No me extrañes,
Mi aliento te seguirá
Y te llenara.

I'm a singer not a player
My heart constructs sounds
While my fingers grasp at ideas,
Mere breaths of melodies,
They could spin a million webs
Yet none could house the kiss of your love

Me escuchas?
No tengas miedo.
Me buscas?
No se corra.
Siento su calor
En los pulmones
En las venas
Y en el corazón.
Mire haci a mi
Y llámame con entrega
Aquí estaré.

The exchange continues...

12.14.14 Last of My Date Posts

This one is long... and I don't think a cool date is coming up for a while so my next post shall be a real one too. This is a blurb I wrote on 11.24.14 half of this has changed today… more on that later, maybe.

          Since almost a year and a half ago if not longer I think God has been making a “connect the dots” puzzle for me, kind of like constellations. Today, I feel a peace that lingers further than the pit of my knowledge of God/subconscious, and it’s been a while since I have felt that way. Today I am okay with quiet, today I am not questioning my existence or my faith, or my heart’s desires, not in the usual crippling way anyway… It might just be circumstance and how my manager praised my hard work for once… but I think the everyday is harder to face when your core is in question, at least for me of maybe all INFPs it is, it is harder to now know why. Some odd amount of months and a year ago I was in the fringe of a transition in my life with parts I foresaw, parts I never would have imagined and parts I thought I foresaw but did not want to acknowledge because I hated the thought, it shook my core and struck me with fear. Here I will break it all down.

          So I’m some sort of art freak or “creative” junk person thing, aka artsy-fartsy, aka artist, since before I can remember I have loved making things. Noise, images, ideas, structures (mostly small ones). At a simple level they are ways of communicating, mostly only seen as communicating emotions, by some, and others define it as communicating beauty and aesthetics. I think both definitions fall short, more on that later, maybe. Nonetheless, all my life I have loved these things more than I knew at first, never more than the important things in life, but love them. All my Jesus following life I have been told they are “gifts” and when I wasn't sharing them I was “wasting” them. Alright, I can say to some extent, I could agree they are “gifts” from God but to what degree is still up for verdict, personally I don’t think they’re very much different than other good things I have received, my life, my loved ones, Jesus Himself are also things I would call gifts and infinitely more important to me than all these things I do that create things… I was going to list them but that’s silly. I was told they “glorify God” so in my young understanding I equated that to worship of God, at least in part, and purpose in life.

          For a long time I always somehow knew that I hate doing any of these things publicly. It felt alien to me, to share these things, to expose them, to exchange them for something. I put it at the back of my mind, as they say, writing it off as a stigma of pride vs false humility (without the fancy words back when I was in high school/college) or a stigma of motivations a strange argument of it being for money and fame or the love of it or something else, something occult that I didn't know about yet. However there was and is a part of me, beyond shame of questioning my faith/drive that delights in sharing, and I can sometimes see a place for it, a small one maybe, but I only come to accept that halfheartedly. Where I have struggled with this the most is with the creativity I enjoy the most, (ironically or not) music, and specifically for me, singing.

          This is where most of my angst with the arts has manifested unbridled, untamed, and wildly which affected my deepest fears of who I am in light of loving God. In search of the meaning of this so called “gift” in my life (because people I trusted called it so, and David who tamed evil spirits with music affirmed those words) I looked at the world and saw a purpose of fame and money, that didn’t sit well with an introvert who likes doing things aside, quietly, and hates money and what it produces in the hearts of people. I looked at the church and it was evangelism, money and fame, or “worship.” These were my quaint observations. So my logical conclusion of where I fit in, seeing as how I hate concerts most of the time, unless I am watching them, I thought was “worship,” weekly concerts for a group of Christians for free, or a small donation I guess depending on how one looks at it. This, by the way, was only after a strange even, occurrence, happening, I had in Peru where I was on a “missions trip” and the whole group of people I was working with was asked to sing and “lead worship.” I felt the spirit move, as we tend to call it, I had chills all over that gave me a profound sense of peace, wholeness, and as I saw a room full of desperate and hungry faces staring back at me, it felt right and it reminded me of my first conversation with God that was through a song. I started seeking out a way to commit to what I heard God whisper in my heart, once I got back to the US I wanted to be a part of that as much as I could, weekly I supposed, because of Sunday morning “church,” it was addictive to me I suppose or simply I felt I found a place for something I loved that God “gifted” me, and maybe for myself and this persona I could not understand. The “worship leader” dismissed me when I asked him with his own frustrations saying I should take over and it was never brought up again.

          Over the years I played my songs, here and there like for little coffee nights they had for whatever reason and somehow I ended up through other words and thoughts and conclusions at the School of Music at USF, my fourth year of college maybe. I was there to learn how to teach music, a combination of many of my loves and my character, hoping to leave there with tools to help the least of these, children who are forgotten and overlooked in our society, children who are given up on long before they even know who they are, searching (as I always tried) for God’s character. Summer (June, July) some odd years later when I was isolated from the church I prayed for God to give me a place to unite my love for Him with my love for this monster (my voice, my creativity not in any of these words) having met people at the SoM who were completely like me in all things but my faith. I met a kid there who by that fall (maybe September) said he was doing an Artists and Musicians Bible Study, why they are separate who knows, unbeknownst to him, to me this was an answer to my prayer. I said, beyond any doubt “I’m in.” Within a few months, that following spring semester (January) I could no longer pursue my dream of teaching, temporarily (I said to myself) this marked the time I was no longer a full time student and part time bread winner to being full time in ministry and part time bread winner.

          Sooner than later I hear more of the “gift” talk, again, and felt moved around the same time to minister to the artistic soul, souls like mine, hurting souls like mine. I tried to put the “gifts” talk aside, while I still hear it from time to time when I wanted to explore the meaning of the arts in depth because I always knew the worlds definition was coming up short, and my insides questioned the church and while my friends, in attempts to encourage me, would tell me to “try the worship team” everything in my cried “no!” I thought it was “the enemy,” false humility, pride; the feeling had a dozen names throughout the years. Soon I was becoming tired of being an introvert lost in a very extroverted institution and after I had laid the idea to rest because I felt I was discovering just how much we were falling short of God’s purpose and definition of art and hoping I would have a group of people to learn and explore this purpose at great length and depth someone (meaning well) brought up the “gifts” and “worship” question back. I asked God, “What are You saying to me?” Somehow because I always think out loud, I was urged to ask the powers that be, and I was told I knew “nothing about worship.” That could very well be true, but whatever the case was about God and my heart I knew I loved Him then as I do now, and I stopped singing that day.

          By then I felt tired of the extrovert world and I moved from full time in ministry, part time bread winner to full time head of household as my mother because more invisible to society, and I was chained to my home because we couldn't reach others. Resources are a funny thing when no one understands not having them, explaining this to those who aren't wanting is impossible sometimes. I knew God had a time of rest for me, then, oddly enough, away from the noise of a crowd, away from giving, giving, giving and I questioned is I should exist at all if I could not give my time, since I have never been able to give from my pocket and it was even more impossible then.

          When I stopped singing, at first, I thought it was because I believed that voice or it was out of spite and anger (a piece of my heart wondered what the world would be like free of the sound of my voice, and my mind) but really I was tired. I was tired of not understanding a world based on performance, and I needed to understand why we craved these events so very much. Both outside and inside the church we flock to be able to hear, see, and taste the arts, it seems to be a phenomena everywhere. I mean, I cannot think of a culture that does not have the arts. Yet it seems incomplete everywhere I know it here, in our society, by far “Christian” music seemed broken to me for many reasons, my own music included (you can ask my why if you want but I won’t address that here). I felt no desire to keep playing the game, though I did find enjoyment in it still and remembered that well, I also couldn't remember the difference between “Christian” music and “secular” music for both had potential for great beauty and I would worship God in hearing both, as well as the other arts. Soon I remembered the undeniable fact; in the arts my soul finds great and vast intimacy with God, an understanding of something quiet unspeakable, incommunicable, indescribable and I believe it is capable of giving me that same intimacy with others, I am beginning to think. Maybe I did not even have the words for it until yesterday (11.23.14) or just now, but the dots in the puzzle I think God has been giving me point to something linking these two thoughts: intimacy-community, and introversion-extroversion.

          As I asked God yesterday why we call this concert every Sunday “worship” and why it’s needed, or rather so many feel it’s needed when so many say true worship of God is with every minute of our lives, when we honor Him, and bring Him glory, why can so many Christians not even congregate without it, and if they do they feel it’s incomplete. I thought it was as simple as we are indoctrinated to think so, perhaps, but I think there’s a deeper level to it as well, for even outside the church there are concerts and get-togethers to create music. As I was asking this I hear from the stage “we don’t call this church because we believe the church is what we do every day, so why do we do this?” These are words I hear often, and they were followed by something about “unity” and it hit me. I am a little introvert in this vast room of many extroverts, and alone I can have a deep connection to God that’s meaningful and energizing just fine. I can go weeks if not years probably without singing with others and almost never crave it, and then there were the extroverts. Extroverts who are nothing like me, who process energy in a whole other way and that was when my heart rested, feeling peace about this question that came well into my heart. Alone I can have that full espresso type of energy from God, that can last weeks sometimes, but extroverts live for the large crowds, the big sounds the noise and everything that tires me out in seconds and drives me to feel insanity. Suddenly I knew something I never understood enough to explain, another piece of the puzzle, collective artistry must be there. I always knew it was designed to be there, but I was at a loss as to why, so I am at another part of my search for God’s eyes for the arts.

12.13.14 Oh the perfect date ha ha ha

This is a poem I wrote a few days ago... but today is a good number day! So I wanted to publish it!

This strange addiction, I cannot deny
You trifle, taunt, tease
Beckon me with only a glace, a thought
This itch needs to end
Needs to bend
Needs to fend for my attention, no longer
Yet I can't say there's much of anything wrong.
The moments are sweet
Tender and far beyond my temptations
These moment seduce my mind my heart my soul
To recall a creation, a birth, a breath of life

So why...
Does my core tremble so?
The mystery is too much
It's easier to care nothing of it
But,
There you are, staring at me, filling my eye
Whispering of when you and I could find the time
and get lost.
Rhymes, chimes, lyrics, spirit
All entwined and I am
Spell bound

Later
I remember the fears
I remember the doubt
I remember the moments lost and dreamed
I dreamt of a time when we would be
Just as you envisioned me
And just as I always knew within
Then as I shake
And take a breath of nothing
You breath into me again
And I live on every word you say

12.12.14

Another one of those number days... I am thinking of finishing my poem that I wrote a few days ago and posting it later... isn't 12.12.14 a pretty number, or how about 12.12.2014? So I am waiting around for a ride heh and using the internet while I can, whereabouts? That's something only I can know! Anyway, I hear I might be getting a free guitar? Or something, I'm not sure the irony of this is so intense I will write more about it later, especially it if happens. I have been challenged all week to my core, in a good way. Anyway, laterdays, or more later!

Okay now a real one, Silence can be better

I am never disappointed at the things God does in my life... I've been thinking a lot about connect the dots, and I'm posting something about that soon, after I clean it up... I am in a silly mood tonight and I think it's because after a long time of trials I have some breathing room, and lots of encouragement.

I think I say this a lot, but I might not say it as much as I think, when I speak of trials I am not in despair, deep in my heart, and my most inward core I know the truth, God is here, He is watching, He is in control, but I think it is healthy to voice our fears. I think so that we don't get entangled in them, and I think mostly because another in the same distress can feel encouraged to know they are not alone. Yes, many of us say we are never alone with God, but there's a reason He gave Eve to Adam, and there's a reason He asks us to love one another... We were not meant to live in caves.

More so on this I have been thinking of division and anger I guess because of all the things in the news about racism and I think so much of how so many voices are never heard. So may say it's opportunity, and some may say it's power struggles I'm fighting for words... But I tend to feel that we don't take each other in one at a time.

Yes it's human nature to make inferences and generalizations and categories to better function in understanding... Examples cat, dog, rat, rabbit = furry four legged creature = animal... We say a small child "mistook a cat for a dog" no, simply they know a dog walks on four legs and is furry, they see a cat and don't see the difference it wasn't taught. Okay, then we do the same with whatever categories we have race, gender, sexuality, religion, faith etc mix that in with our own hurts, pains, traumas and sin we get potential for anger, fear, violence, division and opinions that very hurt and/or reject others. However, if you add grace, forgiveness, mercy, and love into the mix you have potential for a lot of other levels. We always hear about "racist" saying "well, I have a friend who is ..." and we rant at them saying this is not a valid argument against their hatred of another race (or their own)... Why would we think it is? Well, maybe because we love our friends, and where love is racism or any other bigotry cannot fully exist with out needing to be choked out, by that love.

Am I saying that love can cancel out years of hate and injustice and cruelty? Why, of course I am saying that. I don't think any of what has happened to these people in the news is right, yet I cannot say that the white man in law enforcement who killed a black man of the community is completely and wholly evil. Why? Because I would have to say you're completely evil, or I am, okay I might be but I believe in a God who created us in His image, and I also believe sin is rampant in this world, and I also believe that His son came to tell us to love our enemies, because God is love and love concurs all evil no matter what. I don't mean to say that the pain and hurt of the victims in these stories don't matter, that is not the point.

My point is we are adding to anger is we only focus on our own hurts, what of the hurts of another. One was never taught to look beyond their own lives and understanding, then one will never want to understand and never be able to understand. If I grew up being scared of the sky and only came out when it was cloudy then what real knowledge to I have of the sky except what I have been told? I believe that is the sin committed against those in privilege or anyone really that we suppose is better off, or wiser, or more powerful. We assume they have the same values. Guess what they don't, and even if they claim the same faith and religion, they don't have your same values. If we judge by the law, our own or anyone else's, we are all guilty and deserve death. In the end this is what I try to live and breath and this is why I am tired, so tired of the posts and comments and tweets about the same pain. I get it, no I don't think it's wrong to feel pain to voice it, but aggression begets aggression, and superficial little rants about it will not fix a thing. It will only make those who are also hurt and scared just as you are to be more hurt and scared and paranoid.

What I have decided is to talk to those I love about it, one on one, and I think that's the only way anything will change. Love binds us, beyond opinions, faith, race, gender, and anything else you can throw at me. Love, cancels out all hurt. Love can make a discussion about something that has happened for centuries come into the living room of a home and change at least those in that room. I refuse to go to any link about some random story of a person I don't know at this point because it will only add to any biases my heart has, and probably even develop others. If I am branded for this post, so be it, but if you love me I would hope we can talk about it. I have done the opposite many times in the past to my shame. It's easy to close a door on someone and say you're better off, but you will be alone. I think this is the same for the white police officer who killed the black man who stole cigarettes and that whole issue and we then closing our hearts to "those people" whichever side you are on, and crying about it on the internet. We all want to be heard, but the tongue cannot be tamed by man, and the tongue steer a whole ship into fire and death. This is why I have been silent. Today I decided not to be.