On Regret

What's with everybody's fear of regret? 

I remember the first time I was rubbed the wrong way by someone in highschool talking about how they don't regret their past poor decisions. I remember thinking, "why not?". I've never been afraid to regret a choice of my own. I'm totally 100% okay with saying "I absolutely without a shadow of a doubt should not have done that and thus irrevocably regret my actions." What's so wrong with that? Why do people have beef with the fact that there are a few things in my life that I actually do regret? No, I don't regret every single thing that didn't work out according to plan. But the actual poor, self-centered, and irresponsible decisions that I have made- those I do regret. And I'm totally okay with that. 

Regret: Feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over....

Um, hello? Why wouldn't you want to feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over a shameful act that brought harm to others? 

I'm thinking people are afraid of regretting everything. Or afraid of admitting that their choices amounted to nothing but harm. So we take the healthy view of accepting that sometimes things don't go according to plan and end up working out better and apply it to things that did not go according to plan cause we had no plan other than immediate gratification and now have a mess to clean up. I think it's pride that keeps people from simply admitting that a particular choice of theirs was not one where the former applies... not one that worked out better than planned.... It's pride that keeps a person from admitting that their choice was simply irresponsible, harmful, unwise, self-centered, and one in which they feel sad, repentant, and disappointed in themselves for. There is nothing wrong with that! We are human. It's going to happen. If a person seems void of regret, does it not imply they think they are above failure?

Humanity astounds me.

Character

WARNING: this will not be well-written because I am tired and have almost just saved this as a draft 3 times already. ... and I know that if I do that, I will never come back to it.

 

"Listen for the actions and words of the human characters. Ancient stories were not as “psychoanalytical” as our modern tales. We don’t get a glimpse “inside” a character’s mind and emotions. We come to know them through their words and actions. Who are these people? What are they like? How do you picture them? How would you describe their moral and ethical qualities? How do they relate to one another?" -Chaplain Mike

In this particular article he's referencing stories from the Bible, particularly the story of Ruth. The more I thought about it, the more I saw just how little our imagination works for us these days. Usually we don't have to work for it. We don't have to use our creative senses to intake a story. We forget that a story, in and of itself, is a piece of art because we are usually being given the pieces and told what to think and perceive from the story. I think this is why I like mysteries so much- because it allows me to make my own mind up about things. It's annoying that story writing has caught on to that and now tries to manipulate the desire for mystery by creating a false path for your mind to trail leading you to realize where they are already going with the story and subsequently taking away the mystery they could have had to begin with if they weren't robbing foreshadowing of its purpose.

Wow, I didn't see that vent coming. 

Anyway, back to what I was originally trying to say.... it's true these days that story-writers/tellers have taken on the habit of giving us too much detail in the wrong areas and taking away our chance to formulate our own opinions about the characters. This must be why I liked LOST so much. You could never tell who was "good" and who was "bad" until the end. You were forced to base your thoughts about a character on what their actions. 

You know, the world today is obsessed with trying to explain away our actions. "I did this because that." "It's not my fault, see- I was wounded here and you know what they say, 'hurt people hurt people'." blablabla. I understand why this is the way it is. And fine, it's whatever (I hate that phrase). But aside from being frustrated at the resulting actions that nobody takes responsibility for, I am frustrated at how it's affected writing. I believe that story writing has now gotten lazy and because we are so used to just allowing actions with nobody fully responsible for them, we write and accept these characters who have no character. These mannequins who just put one foot in front of the other, perhaps weighing the responsibility, but not worrying about it too much, cause by the end of the story, it will be justified one way or another. 

blah. this is why we have shitty movies, boring books, and irresponsible people just shooting out actions  making wake with no one answering for it. bla bla bla.

I'm going to read this tomorrow and regret posting it. I'm tired and doubt I've actually articulated what I thought when I read "We come to know them by their words and actions."Wouldn't it be nice if people could come to know the characters we are/have by our words and actions? Wouldn't it be nice if words and actions could bare the weight we give them without the support of justification by our weak human nature?

I think it'd be nice. If you made it this far, I probably coulda just posted that last paragraph. Oh well, like I said, I'm tired. That's my justification for putting shitty writing out there wasting people's time.

Rewards of Death

"Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die..."

~Loretta Lynn

Last night, my attention was arrested by this lyric. I couldn't stop thinking about the implications; You can't experience heaven, without experiencing death. I mean, I guess Enoch did/is? (Genesis 3 or 4). But for the mainstream human being- death comes. I know, I know, this is not news to you, nor is it to me. Lately, though, I've been seeing "the gospel" everywhere. Death brings life; that's my summation of it. I'm sure it's lacking. But, just so we're on the same page- death brings life.

The first thing that came to mind was how everybody wants the rewards of hard work, without having to work hard. Everybody wants the fruit, but nobody wants to labor. Everybody wants peaceful, unified, healthy relationships, but we aren't always willing to put ourselves aside for this, now are we?

Everybody wants heaven, but nobody wants death. 

This form of death is figurative, sure. Nevertheless, I submit that it is harder than literal dying. And that the heaven it promises is great. It results in experiencing heaven on earth.

On Intentions

"...sometimes the best intentions are in need of redemption; would you agree?"

~Death Cab, You Are A Tourist

I think I'm a difficult person to argue with because I don't really care about who is right or who is wrong. And I, most certainly, don't want to hear all about what a person didn't mean to do or say. I get completely hung up on understanding. I want the other to understand why what they said hurt me or struck a certain chord in me. And I want to understand what the other did mean rather than what they didn't. Something I'll never understand is why a person's initial response to another is "I didn't mean to." 

Of course you didn't mean to. If I thought you meant to hurt me, I probably wouldn't be talking to you right now. I'd probably not consider you a friend. You probably wouldn't have the power to hurt me because I wouldn't care enough about what comes out of your mouth. 

I sound rude.

It's just that... what one means to happen and what happens are not always the same thing. What actually happens creates much more wake than what is intended to happen. We are always left to pick up the pieces of actual happenings rather than intentions. It's the same concepts as actions speaking louder than words. 

Either way, I just wish that everyone understood that sometimes the best intentions are still in need of redemption.... and this is how we can know each other better.

Guest Post: What I Don't Want

This is a little snippet from my brother's journal that I had to manipulate him into giving me so I could post it all over the world wide web. After telling him how selfish he was being with his thoughts and asking him what the world would be like if C. S. Lewis or Donald Miller were as selfish as he, he finally ripped it out of his journal and handed it to me saying, "Jeff Tweedy says it best 'if the whole world's singing your songs, and all of your paintings have been hung, just remember what was your is everyone's from now on,' Emily."

What I Don't Want

I am frequently asked, "What do you want to do when you graduate?" "Where do you want to live?" "What kind of girl do you want to marry?" etc. I never know how to respond. I don't have a clear vision for my life. There are so many things I want to do, so many places I want to go, and so many people I want to meet. When I am asked these types of questions I feel like I am being asked to look into the night sky and choose a favourite star. It is kind of a ridiculous request. I like so many of them. Just like the stars, I perceive most things in this world as beautiful. Because I am drawn to so many beautiful things, when I come across something I perceive as ugly, it is obvious. It is obvious because it is rare. It is that soar thumb. It is Rosanne Barr singing The Star Spangled Banner. It is that sour note the bass player plays at a concert. I like to call these ugly things- the things that I don't want. 

Here is a list:

• insecurity
• the constant need for words of affirmation and physical touch
• the desire to be cool
• corporate ladders
• a white picket fence
• granite counter tops
• condescending speech or tone
• judgment
• when people use missions, humanitarianism, and ministry as a way to elevate themselves or feel good about themselves
• people who don't see the opportunities of singleness
• the lack of appreciate for art
• debates that don't involve an honest and humble search of truth
• excuses
• insensitivity

--------

I liked what Ben wrote because it was so sincere. I remember once he was rambling on about how so many people talk about what they want in life and it involves such frivolous things; I laughed my rump off when he said "I don't know what I want, but I sure can tell you what I don't want. And that is granite counter tops!"

He's not saying that people who want or have these things are stupid or that they are literally "ugly". What he's saying is that these things, and so many others, so easily distract people from the actual life they have now, from what they can have if they don't have these things, from the authenticity of what is. These desires have the potential to make life ugly because the human tendency is to contrast our reality with our unmet desires. 

Just thought you'd like to hear from someone other than me. What do you not want?

Happy Easter, For Mercy's Sake

This post has almost been the death of me. exaggerate much, em?

I have mulled over the idea of this post since March 3rd, 2011. That was the morning I woke up and yelped "It's March! I've made it to March! This is so good! I've made it to March."

When you share your story with the world wide web, there is much to weigh. much to filter. much to process. much to mourn. Dancing the line of dignity and vulnerability is quite the emotional workout. My fear is that people will pervert my story of mercy into a story of degraded grace that seems to justify selfish actions.  Nevertheless, I'll give my readers the benefit of the doubt and trust the power of truth to conquer whatever deceptions vie to manipulate one's id. 

---

It was at the light in front of that historic church. My eyes fixated on a cross, my heart broken- broken into a million lifeless pieces. The sort of broken that implies unable to function not just hurt. It was there that I heard, "This feeling will not last forever. You just have to make it to next Easter." Next Easter. ... This depression would not follow me to next Easter? This feeling of complete worthlessness. This shallow-breathing, near-death, existence would set with the dawn of another Easter? Was Hope telling me that the heart-wrenching pain involved in smiling would dissolve by next Easter? Was she enlightening me that by next Easter the joy of loving others would be accompanied with a thousand other joys; that it would soon be an overflow rather than my life support? 

Clinging to Hope's words, I bought myself some flowers and made myself an Easter basket. I felt pathetic. I sat at my table entranced by these souvenirs. Was Hope a mirage? ... "All I have to do, is make it to next Easter. This time next year, I wont feel so dead." I kept telling myself. 

You see? The rug had just been snatched beneath my feet. My heart had just been stabbed with the fang of a basilisk. The foundation upon which I had built all my hopes and dreams and future was rejecting me with violent bouts of resentment and bitterness. The life had been sucked out of my, once very lively, heart. What does a woman do when her other half tells her he intentionally doesn't let her meet his needs and finds her needs despicable? That he has had this mindset since the beginning of their life together? That they have only snowballed into incurable resentment? My entire earthly identity had been adulterated, leaving me a hollow shell of a human being, no less a woman.

---

One Easter later, I reflect on this death. I clung to a God who tenderly let me writhe in His hands. Full of faith, I blindly walked into a fiery furnace, my affections for union with the man I had vowed to love. Mournfully, despite my commitment, my marriage was part of the death that befell me. With that went all my hopes and dreams- the very essence of most of my being. I remember being told, "Accept My Mercy." It was an offer I didn't know what to do with. I didn't want to have to accept mercy. I didn't want to have to accept new life. I didn't want to believe it was that bad. 

It took a while before I accepted that what I had experienced was nothing more than the fallenness of the world. That it was no further from redemption than any other fallen experience a person will encounter. That God is in the business of redeeming fallenness. That the mercy He offers cultivates the ground for new life to be sewn. That mercy is only needed in fallenness. That mercy stars in the death of the redeemed. 

How symbolic that, in my life, Easter was the season that God allowed death it's way, only to conquer it with redemption? 

Well, I've made it to "next Easter" hallelujah and, without making light of the gospel, I am trying to live in  light of the gospel. I cannot deny the power of the gospel, I have to embrace the redemption of this tragedy and allow it to breath new life into my heart. I can trust that the Lord will be intentional about the parts of me He allows back to life and the parts of me He keeps beneath the waters.

The resurrection has never meant more to me. The gospel of the resurrection turns death inside out and makes it produce life. How powerful is that? God is not scared to allow death it's purpose. Life does not end with death; it begins.

Last Easter, I was singing:

"O Joy that seekest me through pain, 

I cannot close my heart to thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be."

from O Love That Will Not Let Me Go

This Easter, I'm singing:

"Let us wonder grace and justice

Join and point to Mercy's store

When through grace in Christ our trust is

Justice smiles and asks no more

He Who washed us with His blood

Has secured our way to God"

from Let Us Love and Sing and Wonder

What's The Point?

Riddle me this... Why, oh, why do drivers think there is a point to turning on their signal whilst they are turning or changing lanes? Let's see.... (...one hour later...) oh yes, I am not mistaken; the Georgia Driver's Manual states on page 91 that one should signal an adequate amount of time before making a their move for the sake of other drivers. (i wasn't kidding about that hour later. i actually researched it just to be positive i wasn't crazy. and half-hoping their was some sort of justification for all the morons who signal as they turn. see proof of my research below. do be distracted by the cuteness smothering this picture.)

 

People must signal mid-move because they think it makes them legal, right? I mean why else would one exert so much energy? It must give them some sense of fulfilling the law's requirements. They actually believe that as long as they flip their signal on at some point in their move that they are honoring the law?! I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure that these halfhearted drivers are missing the point of signaling. 

hmmm.... yet again, I am not mistaken; the definition of signal is any nonverbal action or gesture that encodes a message. I'm preeeeeetty sure the message a driver is supposed to be sending with their  turn signal is, "I am about to turn", not "I am turning". 

How about handicapped parking spaces? How often have you witnessed or heard about someone scoring a handicapped parking permit despite not actually having a legitimate handicap? They feel completely entitled to parking in a handicapped parking space. Sure, legally, they can get away with parking there. But isn't the point of a handicapped parking space to make life more accessible to people with actual disabilities? Not so people who are sly enough to obtain an illegitimate parking permit can be permitted to have front-row parking. It's not the permit that makes the spot for you. It's the handicap that makes the spot for you.     

I was thinking about this yesterday. I was thinking about how often Christiandom misses the point. It's funny how empty and halfhearted law-abiding Christians can be. As useless as it is for a driver to flip their signal on right before they turn the wheel, it can be for a Christian to read their Bible or attend church. Isn't the point of Scripture to permeate your being and the way you engage with humanity? And the point of "church"... Biblically? Isn't the point of "church" to take care of widows and orphans? Yet, somehow we've band together like a den of lions licking each other and rallying the Lord's Army?

How about prayer? How often do we observe a person praying for the sake of others to sense their holiness? Or for the sake of others to feel influenced positively by their presence? Or for the sake of others to desire to be like them? Whatever the reason, if it isn't to communicate to God, isn't it missing the point?

I'm pretty sure we've missed the point when we're gaining a sense of self-righteousness from our law-abiding acts. It has become just that- an act.