james

let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.

get the earwax out and recieve whats implanted in you with humbleness; it saves your life.

dont just take it in, let it flow out. do what you are recieving in your hearing.

i cant just look at my flaws and say, hm, interesting. and forget that God calls me to something higher.

be with the vulnerable in their affliction and keep myself unstained by the world.


all of this is hitting me hugely on all accounts. im so glad i went to singular today. although i hate the name. meh- digression. ikki brought up tantrums. i laughed alot inside, and a little outside. ive got lots of tantruming under my belt. towards others, and God. mostly God. ive ffound i cant hear him unless i tantrum first.
hm. do i feel he doesnt hear me, doesnt understand me until i get really loud and forceful? that would line up with how ive related in the past. sometimes how i still relate. anyway.
this quieted me in a good way. [probably, quieting me most of the time is good!] i can almost be an advocate for anger. i think its very useful as a megaphone for something else going on. but it also helps me get things done and gives me strength. which is not its purpose.
im not quick to hear the Lord. i want to get all my fussing out first. i want to rail on him. he can take it- yay. :/
i wonder- if i step back a minute and think about how all my acting out would look toward a husband or a father.
its a tantrum. i see a man taking in what im doing, but not doing anything. and rightly so! not giving me a reaction like i want. allowing me to feel the stupidity thats there, and still staying present and loving who i really am.

next :
do i really want to be a doer of the enriching speech and knowledge etc.(1 corinthians 1: 4-7) that ive been given? that requires things of me. that makes me responsible. and i have to admit, i hate being my brothers/sisters "keeper" sometimes. its a dicsipline and relenquishing of myself and what id rather do.
hm. my pride and self-centeredness feels correctly disgusting right now.
::i think another reason why i have a hard time doing, is that it doesnt feel super clear, and i'd like a big reason. not just the reason of, well, maybe (s)he is having a crappy day and you can show true love to them by smiling and caring about the reason behind their scowl.

that brings me to the third thought, that i may have alluded to at some point in a past blog...i have spoken frequently about this recently- i dont love people. i dont really care about the people around me. if i did, my eyes wouldnt be growing inward so much all the time. how many times have i asked God for his eyes to see, his ears to hear, and his hands and feet- and then cussed out my next door neighbor for the banging that is going on at midnight[ i think he was moving furniture or hanging something]? how many times to i divert my eyes from the person on the corner, because i dont want to see their lack of hope? how many times do i decide not to call a certain friend or friends, because well, they never call me? when Jesus pours himself out like a drink offering and then askes us to be like him- im left with wrinkles on my forehead and the breath out of me. what in the world does that look like? ! i think im trying to allow that to happen- trying to keep my eyes open to it, asking him to flow through me- and still i get in the way. still i shut down . still i whine and say its too hard.

i was struck when i was in corpus this last time by the darkness that was easily surrounding me. i was seriously asking God why he couldnt just wipe away all the ucky- certainly when people would see the glory and innocence to be had, they wouldnt want anything else!
and then i looked inside i knew with crushing certainty i would very easily, even in my desire to live my life out in praise to him, choose against him. [i was really trying to keep free will and Jesus dying in my analogy. ya know, not reworking the whole salvation plan.]

im pretty muchly done.

it feels like the shingles are being blown off the roof of my heart. the cold wind is whipping around inside and stirring up different corners of dust.
[my dustpiles]
=fear
=hopelessness
=worry for others
=past being replayed
=

its whipping around my face and stinging my eyes.
evil crouches at our doors. our doors of hope. it cant be on the other side; it has to try to just block us from walking through.
how hard to hold grief and let it be, while not letting evil blind the way over the threshold. evil holds these phantom doors up, these doors that strangely resemble dust. its not too hard to do, when the wind of pain is utilized.
what we cant forget is- painful wind can be clearing and healing. the dust whips and buffets my self. and leaves soft vulnerability. it stings my eyes; i find relief in tears. and i know and believe hope now. because its seen clearly.

no grace groups. had a massage today during lunch. have to feed graham (linds K. 's cat that rache is keeping) , because rache is having huge asthma problems. shes in the icu.
i have to go in to work tomorrow early because one of the hygienists is sick- has been, and the schedule didnt change. the doc that is preggo is about to pop, having pain, and overall im a bit stressed. i think the massage was timely. didnt know how much i needed it when i called them last week. the guy was really surprised [as was i] at the amount of tension in my back. i can take a lot of pressure. i asked him for firm to deep presssure, and he still couldnt work out some of the balled up muscles i have. looking at and feeling my small boney frame- well, i think he was kinda at a loss. he put me on a schedule. 1-2 times a week for 3 mo. im going once a month. he also asked that i stretch 3 times a day. whatever. well, fine, i'll try. i guess i should take better care of my frame.
i had a thought today. i willlet you put an adjective in there. ive always had a massage by an older man, or women. the one guy was at least in his 40's. women cant massage me well. they arent strong enough for the pressure i like. anyway. this guy today was at most mid 30's. it was kinda strange...i wondered for a split second if it is ever hard for him to massage beautiful young women:)
he was professional (of course)and those thoughts quickly left. lemme just say- there are muscles i didnt even know i had- and they were angry for being overlooked for so long.

a little boy bit through my skin today. thats a first. thankfully it was a family i liked. i still cant really feel the tip of my finger. usually, a normal clamp- down has feeling by now. the nail will stay sore for at least a day...im thinking in this case, through the end of the week.
im thankful for peace. especially the kind he gives.

i want, on these nights, to have friends around. but thats usually not feasible. so, i will think about you, my friends, reading my thoughts that i give you and pretend that we are sitting face to face.