A Scrummicking Idiot
*grins* That's a Black Country term, so most of y'all probably won't know that. ;)
So here's me, in sweatshirt, fancy necklace and Mediæval bodice fresh from work, earbuds dangling and still distantly playing Mandisa's "What If We Were Real" album, pj trousers on and perched on a chair, typing this while gobbling up some pumpkin soup - WITH CHEESE.
Scrummicking round the house, getting fed and watered before settling down to work at home for the evening.
Y'know, it's impossible to explain the joy and peace that's been here the last few days. The period I've just gone through has been the blackest, spiritually, I remember walking through in the past four years, since my backslide when I was 17.
I don't remember what jolted me to actually fighting again. I was convinced God wasn't going to fight for me anymore, and on being told that He was waiting for me to say no to doing wrong in the weakest area of my life and wasn't going to protect me, I was like, well, stuff it then. I can't see Him using me...He's given up...
Ha, it's always that usual stuff, isn't it...sometimes, don't you get that little shaft of doubt entering your heart when you're in a good place, and you shrug it off but you're like, that's going to come back to get me later...and then ALL of them are loosed at once when you're on the edge of collapse. Ha...
I wonder where the weak place in my armour is, because I definitely need to go to the Armourer and get it sorted...
There's a crazy amount of engagements and marriages going on amongst people who used to be pretty close to me at the moment. It started three years ago and it's just getting worse. XD
And I'm just...glad for them but wondering. Cause I don't know where my life is going. I'm living. Working. Coming home and eating chips and (working and) going to bed and wondering if this is it. Trying to make the seconds and the moments count, to make a difference with them in the lives of others, and...I really want God to use me in a big changing way. And then, every time I pray He does, because I know that God wants and will use a life fully surrendered to Him, I'm wondering if He will actually use me any more than He almost invisibly is right now. Because I know I'm weak on pride and thinking I'm doing stuff in my own strength. I know I come closer to Him when life is messy (don't know whether that's because it hasn't gone right for a long enough period to know! XD) and when it's okay, I think I'm stronger and go to Him less, and that I'm liable to take the credit for myself...so maybe He will just keep using me the way He is now. Or maybe this is the wilderness for Moses or the years before Christ came to His ministry or the years Noah spent being laughed at for building the ark.
Whatever it is. I know He's here. He knows. I don't but I will and I can look back and praise Him for the bad as well as the good - and with deep thankfulness, I was able to do that again tonight (rare moments, but so thankful when His grace is given me to do that).
Diary entry today: "It's amusing to be so much half child, half woman. Sometimes I can't recognise a child aspect, and that frustrates me a bit, but a lot of the time I can see both, although I('m not able to) change any of it. It's funny to play the idiot sometimes when people don't know me very well and they aren't sure where my child-naive side stops and the playful side starts.
Walking to the station down Corporation Street in a mismatch of grey patterned sweatshirt with a flowery cream summer skirt, white leggings, flowing hair, singing out loud to Mandisa, striding and swinging my bag...I could see people look twice. I know they probably think I'm crazy and it amuses me, cause I know I'm not and it's fun to watch their instant, unconscious pre-judging definition. Only few people actually accept me as I am for who I am without trying to alter me a bit, and it's entertaining figuring out who is who.
Of course, I understand some people (who want to change/adjust me) just want to protect me...
It's funny, though. The only thing that stops the child part of me is when I stop hoping and let anger take control. People always say I look/am acting grown up when my strongest emotion is contained anger. I wonder if it's hope, steadfast, given-and-renewable-by-God-alone hope that makes me still so much like a child in some ways. I don't know..." (We'll leave it there.)
Recently I got upset with my brother, who has a mental illness, for running off and disobeying my stepdad to go and debate some Muslims in the street.
Not for running off and disobeying, but for debating, because I know his style of ram-it-down-your-throat.
I was afraid that he'd make Christianity look like a religion of lunatics, and I have no desire to be locked up in a mental institute on drugs as a Christian, when persecution hits the West, because they think that it is the way he portrays it.
Well...knowing my brother...I was partly right. And partly, very wrong.
It's hard for me, being a rollercoaster. I hate it. It's hard for some of the people who deep-know me and it's hard for me because I don't understand it. I know the pain side is easier. In a month's time, it will be a year since I was pacing the streets with a throbbing pain so severe I wondered through my unwilled tears how the hell I was still breathing. The pain still comes but less regular. Settled mostly down to the long, quiet ache predicted that I thought would never come.
I hate the way I bounce between joyful and peaceful and dependent on God and hoping in Him to the next moment being utterly black and despairing. Usually there is a cause...sometimes, most frequently, a cause I can't share but one triggered by my past or one that I've mentioned so many times I'm sure people are tired of it.
Maybe it looks like I'm crazy. I'm always hated myself for my emotional side ever since "The Dude" left, who was ever-so-ultra-logical. It sure is a good witness for Christ, isn't it?
Unable to properly form an apologetic battle and just bleeding helplessly inside as I'm watching Christians rip each other apart in defence of the world...
Unable to stay stable and balanced emotionally at least, if I have to be emotional, and be positive and pointing people to Christ... that I've had several people who are atheist or of another religion point me back to my God... #shame I should be pointing them to Him...
Fact is, I'm a mess. I look, and probably am, emotionally unstable. Fact is, you're a mess. You're a living, breathing, masking mess.
Jesus came to save the messes. He ate with the most hated tax-collectors, Jews who'd sold out to the Romans and enforced their taxes for them. They were despised by the Romans and loathed by the Jews. He spoke to the whores and the outcasts - the man in chains prowling the seashore and totally controlled by the darkness - the woman condemned to death for adultery - the Samaritan woman who went to the well in the heat of the day to avoid the mockery of the town, married so many times and just living with her new guy cause - what's the point? He healed the lepers - not a charitable thing to do, to touch the lepers, oozing with sores and with skin rotting, their stench so bad that people had to wear masks when they brought food to a safe distance.
He ate with a Pharisee and a woman of the street came to pour the most expensive thing she owned at His feet. He reproved the righteous and loved her - He said go and sin no more. He came to bring hope where there was none, where people no longer believed there was anything more. Not to where they thought they were all right, that they're in a good place and okay with God and everything. He comes to the gutter.
Ever since then, in books like the DaVinci Code, etc, He's been portrayed as a good man to a bad man, a man who lived with a whore as opposed to one rescuing her. The stain stuck with Him forever, to be jeered at by the ones who, of course, know so much better.
I'm glad He stooped to our level, people who need so much more.
Don't you love that He is a God Who wants us because we need Him so much more?
Anyway. I've spent well over an hour writing this, so I'd better get back to work. And eating my soup. And generally scrummicking. ;) Before signing out, though, I just want to leave you with this quote.
"It's not their pain you're afraid of; it's yours.... And as frightening as it may be, that pain will make you stronger, if you allow yourself to feel it, embrace it. It will make you more powerful than you ever imagined. It's the greatest gift we have, to bear their pain without breaking. And it's born from the most human part. Hope. Please...we need you to hope again." ~ Professor Xavier - X-Men, Days of Future Past
Hope is the longest tenable thing.
But it is killable.
But it is God-renewable.
And it's beautiful.
In His grace and love,
~Siân
So here's me, in sweatshirt, fancy necklace and Mediæval bodice fresh from work, earbuds dangling and still distantly playing Mandisa's "What If We Were Real" album, pj trousers on and perched on a chair, typing this while gobbling up some pumpkin soup - WITH CHEESE.
Scrummicking round the house, getting fed and watered before settling down to work at home for the evening.
Y'know, it's impossible to explain the joy and peace that's been here the last few days. The period I've just gone through has been the blackest, spiritually, I remember walking through in the past four years, since my backslide when I was 17.
I don't remember what jolted me to actually fighting again. I was convinced God wasn't going to fight for me anymore, and on being told that He was waiting for me to say no to doing wrong in the weakest area of my life and wasn't going to protect me, I was like, well, stuff it then. I can't see Him using me...He's given up...
Ha, it's always that usual stuff, isn't it...sometimes, don't you get that little shaft of doubt entering your heart when you're in a good place, and you shrug it off but you're like, that's going to come back to get me later...and then ALL of them are loosed at once when you're on the edge of collapse. Ha...
I wonder where the weak place in my armour is, because I definitely need to go to the Armourer and get it sorted...
There's a crazy amount of engagements and marriages going on amongst people who used to be pretty close to me at the moment. It started three years ago and it's just getting worse. XD
And I'm just...glad for them but wondering. Cause I don't know where my life is going. I'm living. Working. Coming home and eating chips and (working and) going to bed and wondering if this is it. Trying to make the seconds and the moments count, to make a difference with them in the lives of others, and...I really want God to use me in a big changing way. And then, every time I pray He does, because I know that God wants and will use a life fully surrendered to Him, I'm wondering if He will actually use me any more than He almost invisibly is right now. Because I know I'm weak on pride and thinking I'm doing stuff in my own strength. I know I come closer to Him when life is messy (don't know whether that's because it hasn't gone right for a long enough period to know! XD) and when it's okay, I think I'm stronger and go to Him less, and that I'm liable to take the credit for myself...so maybe He will just keep using me the way He is now. Or maybe this is the wilderness for Moses or the years before Christ came to His ministry or the years Noah spent being laughed at for building the ark.
Whatever it is. I know He's here. He knows. I don't but I will and I can look back and praise Him for the bad as well as the good - and with deep thankfulness, I was able to do that again tonight (rare moments, but so thankful when His grace is given me to do that).
Diary entry today: "It's amusing to be so much half child, half woman. Sometimes I can't recognise a child aspect, and that frustrates me a bit, but a lot of the time I can see both, although I('m not able to) change any of it. It's funny to play the idiot sometimes when people don't know me very well and they aren't sure where my child-naive side stops and the playful side starts.
Walking to the station down Corporation Street in a mismatch of grey patterned sweatshirt with a flowery cream summer skirt, white leggings, flowing hair, singing out loud to Mandisa, striding and swinging my bag...I could see people look twice. I know they probably think I'm crazy and it amuses me, cause I know I'm not and it's fun to watch their instant, unconscious pre-judging definition. Only few people actually accept me as I am for who I am without trying to alter me a bit, and it's entertaining figuring out who is who.
Of course, I understand some people (who want to change/adjust me) just want to protect me...
It's funny, though. The only thing that stops the child part of me is when I stop hoping and let anger take control. People always say I look/am acting grown up when my strongest emotion is contained anger. I wonder if it's hope, steadfast, given-and-renewable-by-God-alone hope that makes me still so much like a child in some ways. I don't know..." (We'll leave it there.)
Recently I got upset with my brother, who has a mental illness, for running off and disobeying my stepdad to go and debate some Muslims in the street.
Not for running off and disobeying, but for debating, because I know his style of ram-it-down-your-throat.
I was afraid that he'd make Christianity look like a religion of lunatics, and I have no desire to be locked up in a mental institute on drugs as a Christian, when persecution hits the West, because they think that it is the way he portrays it.
Well...knowing my brother...I was partly right. And partly, very wrong.
It's hard for me, being a rollercoaster. I hate it. It's hard for some of the people who deep-know me and it's hard for me because I don't understand it. I know the pain side is easier. In a month's time, it will be a year since I was pacing the streets with a throbbing pain so severe I wondered through my unwilled tears how the hell I was still breathing. The pain still comes but less regular. Settled mostly down to the long, quiet ache predicted that I thought would never come.
I hate the way I bounce between joyful and peaceful and dependent on God and hoping in Him to the next moment being utterly black and despairing. Usually there is a cause...sometimes, most frequently, a cause I can't share but one triggered by my past or one that I've mentioned so many times I'm sure people are tired of it.
Maybe it looks like I'm crazy. I'm always hated myself for my emotional side ever since "The Dude" left, who was ever-so-ultra-logical. It sure is a good witness for Christ, isn't it?
Unable to properly form an apologetic battle and just bleeding helplessly inside as I'm watching Christians rip each other apart in defence of the world...
Unable to stay stable and balanced emotionally at least, if I have to be emotional, and be positive and pointing people to Christ... that I've had several people who are atheist or of another religion point me back to my God... #shame I should be pointing them to Him...
Fact is, I'm a mess. I look, and probably am, emotionally unstable. Fact is, you're a mess. You're a living, breathing, masking mess.
Jesus came to save the messes. He ate with the most hated tax-collectors, Jews who'd sold out to the Romans and enforced their taxes for them. They were despised by the Romans and loathed by the Jews. He spoke to the whores and the outcasts - the man in chains prowling the seashore and totally controlled by the darkness - the woman condemned to death for adultery - the Samaritan woman who went to the well in the heat of the day to avoid the mockery of the town, married so many times and just living with her new guy cause - what's the point? He healed the lepers - not a charitable thing to do, to touch the lepers, oozing with sores and with skin rotting, their stench so bad that people had to wear masks when they brought food to a safe distance.
He ate with a Pharisee and a woman of the street came to pour the most expensive thing she owned at His feet. He reproved the righteous and loved her - He said go and sin no more. He came to bring hope where there was none, where people no longer believed there was anything more. Not to where they thought they were all right, that they're in a good place and okay with God and everything. He comes to the gutter.
Ever since then, in books like the DaVinci Code, etc, He's been portrayed as a good man to a bad man, a man who lived with a whore as opposed to one rescuing her. The stain stuck with Him forever, to be jeered at by the ones who, of course, know so much better.
I'm glad He stooped to our level, people who need so much more.
Don't you love that He is a God Who wants us because we need Him so much more?
Anyway. I've spent well over an hour writing this, so I'd better get back to work. And eating my soup. And generally scrummicking. ;) Before signing out, though, I just want to leave you with this quote.
"It's not their pain you're afraid of; it's yours.... And as frightening as it may be, that pain will make you stronger, if you allow yourself to feel it, embrace it. It will make you more powerful than you ever imagined. It's the greatest gift we have, to bear their pain without breaking. And it's born from the most human part. Hope. Please...we need you to hope again." ~ Professor Xavier - X-Men, Days of Future Past
Hope is the longest tenable thing.
But it is killable.
But it is God-renewable.
And it's beautiful.
In His grace and love,
~Siân
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Thanks for sharing your thoughts. :)