Right now I should be cleaning, or running. Granted I feel as if this need of being productive is a hovering cloud that never decides to leave my presence. So instead of doing something good for my flat, or good for my body - I'm going to write... then again, writing is good for my soul.
Although, there is nothing particular to write about today.
One of my favorite quotes, which comes from the women of Denmark is "Coffee is for the body, what the Word of the Lord is for the soul" And O my do I believe that deep into the depths of this weary heart of mine.
These past couple weeks have been tiring, o' so tiring. Thankful for things that did not come to be, for I would not have had the heart to deal with them, with those relationships & those opportunities - I would have had to run away in order to face these circumstances that have greeted me these past days. I will be honest I thought when I left South Africa I would come back to America - get some rest, have life a little easier. Life has been so much harder here than it was on that Southern shore line.
I don't like putting expectations on things - and I try extremely hard not to place expectations on things - but obviously I thought America would be good for my soul. And I do earnestly believe Flagstaff will be good for me in the end - but today I feel as if someone is taking a chisel relentlessly to these last few fibers that make up my heart. Which is why I do as those Danish dames; I drink a lot of coffee and I stay in the Word - because those two things will keep me going, they will help me to carry on, carry on as I do.
I'm not a graceful type of person, nor a subtle type. I try to be a Sunday morning or a sunset, but most of the time I am a Tuesday morning at 2am. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, apologizing for my awkwardness - trying as hard as I can for Swedish suave, to only tumble into the port as the sailor who has only interacted with the stars and the fish. Trying to calm the storm that has become my sea. You don't see the lightning within me, you only hear the echoes.
I know I'm adventurous, I'm rebellious and I'm independent too - a risk taker and a suffer in silence type, a strong-willed wench, and a free-spirit. And I live in a circuitousness through each of those idiosyncrasies.
I'm not exactly sure of why I do this, live like this - why I have always chosen to meander the long way around - it has made life hard, it has made me come face front with challenges a lot of people never imagine.
So as I sit here, a hot mess of self-destructive strengths that have actually become my own worst enemy, but that have always given me fulfillment and have always guided my heart back to the foot of the cross - with God bringing his glory out of my habitual oddities, Redeeming my ridiculousness. I sit and I know in order to continue pushing on, feeding my soul is more important than anything else.
So I'm off to make a cup of coffee - and to ponder the Words of the Way...
I have finally succumbed to this sentimental heart
That has been created through these vagary days
I have no choice but to change - for I've seen the face of God and Love
The Spirit is the Life of me
Flowing only through the Death of me
Endlessly, like a river, it all never seems to cease
But this river does not fear in becoming the sea
So flowing it will stay,
Some days as a trickle - other days as an engulfing cascade
I'm too infatuated and captivated with the adventures of the soul
Too simple stand still
