Broken.

Broken (adjective):  having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.
Synonyms: smashed, shattered, fragmented, splintered, crushed, snapped...
Antonyms: whole...

Broken.  Notice how there are endless synonyms for broken and only one antonym.  When you're broken, you can't think straight, you can't sleep, you can't eat, you don't remember what day it is... nothing seems 'in working order'.  You're dead, or if you're not, you might as well be.  Broken happens from deep within you and resonates throughout your entire soul and every fragment of your body.  You can feel it in your cells.  It's an infection that eats you from the inside out.  I wouldn't wish broken on even my worst of worst enemies.

Broken.

I am broken.  I am fractured.  I am damaged.  I am no longer in one piece.  I am not in working order.  I am smashed, shattered, fragmented, splintered, crushed, snapped...

And as I think about it, I was always a little bit broken.  I've been less broken lately, but right now, I'm broken to the core.  I am shattered and there is no way these pieces are going back together.  There are too many of them.  Some are even lost and I don't know where to find them.

No, not these, but new ones...  new pieces will go back together because God makes all things new.  He breaks them and makes them into a new creation that is perfect in every way because He is perfect.

Sometimes we need to be broken.  Sometimes we need to take a step back from our lives and live in uncertainty and mud for a little while so that we are forced to kneel at the feet of God.  Sometimes God forces us to lean into Him so hard that we can't see anything but Him.  And only then are we fully available to Him.  Only then can we begin to understand who He has called us to be without distraction.

Yes, I am broken.  Very much so.  More than I ever thought I could be.  And yet I still hear His very clear voice urge me to keep this love that has gone away alive in my heart because it isn't over.  It isn't the end.  It isn't the final destination.  But I am also starting to hear something I haven't heard so clearly before.  And it's a sweet voice that says, "I love you and I want the very best for you.  Seek me and know me in the innermost parts of you.  Seek my love as the glue to put you back together into the woman I've intended you to be.  Be still in my presence and drink me in like the sweetest honey.  And when you do this,  I will fill you up with the earthly love you desire most."

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God, I love you so much.  Thank you for blessing me with an earthly love I've never known before, and thank you for speaking in ways we will understand.  God, please help me to remember that you have a plan and it is bigger and better than I could ever imagine.  Take my broken pieces throw them away so that I can't ever retrieve them.  I am not a product of my past and I will not dwell in that anymore.  God, knit me into the woman that you have intended me to be who is fearfully and wonderfully made and worthy of being pursued by my earthly love.  God, thank you for breaking me and allowing me to mourn for who I have been.  Create in me a new and clean heart, God.  I love you and I praise you.  I ask these things in your sweet and precious name.  Amen.

You don't find what you're looking for in other places. In fact, you don't ever really find what you're looking for-- it has to find you. And when it dies, it won't ever leave you. Oh, you can deny it all you want, but it's there to stay whether you welcome it or not.

The thing with me is this: I can't settle. I'm almost afraid to because if I do, then what will I have to live for? Where will the challenge be? Then, after way too long, it all hit me: the challenge is not finding what you're looking for, it is learning how to work with what has already found you. It's loving even when you think you can't anymore. It's owning up to what you've done. And it's learning to live again, despite everything.

Out with the old, in with the new

Weeks went by that his things remained in her car.  She tried so hard to dissect the events that had played out to destroy something before it even had a chance to live.  But instead all she was reminded of was the laughter of that little girl she'd grown so close to in a matter of months.  It was almost an innate desperation, for that little girl kept her going.  To this day, she'll never understand why she loved that little girl or why she longed to -teach- that darling child.  As days passed, a hole grew deeper and deeper.  'He wasn't ready anyway', she told herself.  He didn't trust her.  He didn't believe that she cared for him and wanted nothing more in return  than good conversation.  Complete with the most soothing instrumental background music, seemingly played just for her in that moment.  But she did.  She wanted nothing more than to -know- him.  She wanted to take everything evil out of the world he was forced to raise his daughter in and carry it on her shoulders.  He didn't want to know that.

So, the sand was washed away from her car.  Dear friends gathered to aid in the disposal of his things.  And that was that.  To everyone else, he'd been erased from her life.  But not to her.  Still, she thought of him.  That little girl wouldn't let her forget him.  Every time she looked into those eyes or touched that long, strawberry hair, she thought of him.  But the past is the past, and we move on from it, leaving 'what-ifs' behind in the tumbleweeds of the aftermath.

... And so sometimes we have those lingering thoughts.  We always will because that's who we are.  We're human.  We hate it when we don't know the outcome of things.  We're disgusted when we feel like something should have been in our control, but we realize it isn't.  It's pathetic, really.  We need to  get over ourselves.  We're not master beings, and we need to humble ourselves and begin to comprehend that.  If we don't, we'll only continue to aid the already insatiable hunger to be a self-destructive nation.

Find yourself.  You have to.  Otherwise, you can't love.  You can't love like you're supposed to.  When you love someone, you're supposed to know them.  They're supposed to be able to feel you from the inside out and know who you are.  You're supposed to do the same for the.  The existence of true love is few and far between, if it exists at all anymore.  No one seems to cherish what is right in front of them.

That tender touch of his fingertips against your nude body should be enough to sustain you.  The way he looks at you when he wakes up next to you should be enough to keep you going for the entire day without your caffeine  fix.  Why doesn't anyone care about those things anymore?  I live for those things.  I live for his heartbeat to be my lullaby as I'm taken into a land where anything is a reality, only to wake up to something I never imagined could be more beautiful.

People forget.  They forget what keeps them alive.  It isn't these earthly things that have been thrown at us for centuries upon centuries.  No.  It isn't any of those things.  It's sheer desperation for another person.  You have to love like that.  Be vulnerable-- need someone and let them need you too.

Pillow Talk

It's an addiction.  There's something different about cuddling with your significant other at the end of a long day and sharing your most intimate thoughts.  It's ground breaking.  Pillows allow you to be vulnerable.  They cause you to open up.  There's a comfort within them that allows you to let your guard down.  I wouldn't trade pillow talk for anything in the world.  Even sex.

Bringing me to my next point: sex.  Sex these days is so... abused.  It's used to mask feelings that you're afraid of.  It's when the innocence of sex turns into solid love-making that you get scared.  That's different.  That's something you  have to hold on to.  You can't mess it up.  One wrong move and it dissipates.

You know what separates sex from love-making?  Pillow talk.

It's such an indispensable foundation to every relationship.  You have to be able to separate yourself from your sinful desires to hold one another for hours on end; copulating in pure conversation versus physical contact.  That's what -true- intimacy is.  It's the ability to talk with someone without any barriers.  That's when you know that what you have is real.  It's solid.  It's something that came about (maybe by accident, but maybe not) and, I can't stress this enough, you have to cherish it.  You have to love like you never have before.  You have to be vulnerable and let another's vulnerability captivate you.

Pillow talk is organic.  It's when things start being real.  Infallible trust is created more often during pillow talk than in any other aspect of a relationship.  Pillow talk leads to relationships that can withstand anything.  You learn about one another.  You get to know someone else's soul.  That, by far, is what intimacy is.  Take it and hold it near to your heart.


And ladies:  if a guy engages in pillow talk with you that lasts for hours on end, don't let it go.  Keep it.  Do everything you can to cradle that love in your arms like an infant.  Nurture it and keep it sacred.  You'll never get it back if you don't.

Messy Bedrooms

You walk in and you look around.  All you see are clothes (some dirty, some clean) collected in haphazard piles all over the floor.  Nothing but clutter.  It looks like no one has occupied the space in months.  You hope that's the case, anyway.  How could someone live in such disarray?  One with slight OCD just can't understand the notion.

But don't judge a book by it's cover.  Some of the greatest things happen in messy rooms.  Intellectual conversation, love-making, 'peace-making'... you know.  Messy rooms are where people come together and share their ideas.  Their experiences.  People unify in messy rooms.  They unify over commonalities and differences.  They unify over herbs that are otherwise forbidden.  You meet some people you don't like and others who will change your life forever.  Some you might meet will teach you that not every relationship is solid like your own.  You'll also meet people who teach you that you should never take mobility for granted because it can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye.

Messy bedrooms solidify your life.  They teach you  that things can be beautiful and solid, even in the midst of chaos.  Hibernating in a messy bedroom for a few hours every night helps you remember that people are broken.  They're not together.  They're having babies too early, learning about marijuana and sex at age eight, or they're stuck in a 'friends-with-benefits' relationship that they don't want because they're so desperate for something more.

The last messy bedrooms I was in taught me to be more open.  They taught me to be vulnerable.  They taught me to cherish everything and to value good conversation and dedicated friendships.  The last messy bedrooms I was in changed my perspective on a lot of things.  I was taught how to love unconditionally and passionately.

Reciprocation

It's almost always evil.  You know you're in  too deep when five meaningless hours without contact seem like a lifetime.  When a day goes by and you feel like it's been an eternity since you've looked into those eyes or smelled that sweet smell.  It's like, your heart feels something different... something you don't really want, but you don't know how to get rid of.  It feels like it's bleeding from the inside out.  The worst part is feeling alone in it all.   How do you explain that to someone?  You can't.  That's how you know it isn't reciprocated.  It's when you have doubt that you need to distance yourself before it's -really- too late, because once you're in... you're in.  It's difficult to get out of.

You're in too deep when their voice is all that calms you and when all you can smell is their scent on the tip of your nose and you desperately don't want it to go away.  It's when their heartbeat seemingly beats in sync with your own that you want to believe this is real and that it isn't going anywhere, but who really knows that?  Who really knows what is a lie and what isn't?  What matters and what doesn't?  It's just something we all want.  We all want that person we can feel so connected to; so in love with.  But it's rare.  It never happens anymore.  And when it does, no one holds on to it.  No one cherishes it.  No one reciprocates.

God...

... might be pink.

In the more recent days, I've connected with an amazing group of women surrounding the Mary Kay foundation.  I've been feeling a little less than perfect for the past couple of weeks, and just when you think you have nothing left, in pops God in the most unexpected ways.  I found myself wondering how I was going to have time to volunteer and give back to the community, work, go to school, have time for myself... all while trying to keep myself above water.  Moving out is rapidly becoming number one on my agenda because I need -something- to keep me in the "I can do this myself" mindset.  It's been straining me more than it should be, but I know it's something I have to do.

So, anyway, back to Mary Kay.  I know, I know--- makeup and skin care products.  But NO.  It's more than that.  It's about faith-building and forming lasting relationships (all while making extra money and giving back to the community).  I'm super excited.  This is just what I need to refocus on God (whom I've been neglecting quite a bit).  I need to remember that whatever I do here in my temporary home will be given back to me ten-fold (here and in Heaven).  So, that's just what I'm going to do.

Here's to standing on my own two feet, remembering that I'm beautiful, and empowering other women!

Today has been a good Monday.

And I'll share this lovely song with you: