Personified

I'm studying fetal development, chapter 7, which happens to be 35 pages long...

It says that the little one doesn't even look like a baby at first, but like a little lizard. Soon, even at 7 weeks, the little guy starts to look like a person and has the very beginning of all the major things that he will have when he's born. I'm not sure by when, but if he's a she, she even has all the eggs of her future babies inside of her before she is born.

and in all this, I find myself wondering how in the world God, who is so big, can have small enough fingers to formulate these things that go on inside the mother of a little baby. I guess I picture an enlarged version of my dad when I personify God. But I know that if God were my dad, he would never be able to manipulate his fingers in those tiny spaces.

Even with all the intricacies that go on in our bodies and make our eventual three and a half pounds of brains functional, we're still limited in our thinking. We think about things we can't see as though we could see them.

But our development goes beyond birth, even beyond death, and in the end, we will know even as we are fully known and see the unseeable person of God.

A Possibilities Girl

Possibilities are sometimes more real to me than reality. And so in this world, where perfect possibilities and undashed dreams fail incessantly to come to pass, there is a deep, overwhelming sadness.

But I think the sadness swells from other rooms flooded with some lies.

Things proposterous like, "My sin is greater than everyone else's, so God shouldn't forgive me."
Things proposterous like, "I'm so bad, God's arm is too short to save me."

It's really a pride thing when everything unboils itself to the raw truth. "What makes you so great, kt, that you are capable of outpowering God's grace?"

Do you ever feel like God's just asking you all these questions? I feel like that lately. So often, we ask Him all the questions, but have you ever thought that perhaps He is asking you just as many questions?

"What are you going to do with this huge house I have given to you to take care of? How will you manage it? What else can I entrust you with?"

"What do you think about this topic that I have 'coincidentally' brought to your attention (Makes me chuckle to think of God using 'quotation marks')? How are you going to pan through this in your mind?"

"Are you going to rebel against me in this place?"

"Are you ready to skip a grade in this school? Can we move on to more important things?"

Oh! How I long to be faithful! And even here, this possibility is often dashed to pieces, only, His grace is real. The possibility of someone completely loving and beautiful is one that is truly fulfilled. And unity with Him will be accomplished in full one day.

Oh, That Day!

A Journal Entry from August 31, 2005

"...this world is not my Home, and I can think of nothing sadder or more melancholy than the evidence of this wretched existence away from my Hope's fulfillment.

"But One Day."

The paradox: death and life

There is a man that doesn’t have to experience tragedy in life in order to gain the wonders of tragedy. Somehow, he is free to experience life deeply, and even when tragedy comes, he can still feel. He stays free to feel.

I have theories about why. Like that he hasn’t been hurt enough to shut down his feelings; he can be open. Or that during the formative years, he was nurtured in such a way that he doesn’t have to fear. But those theories never turn out quite right. The truth is, I don’t know why, but he is different, somehow, than everyone else.

And I suppose there is a little bit of that man in all of us: the part that puts down our defense mechanisms of avoidance or projection or the blame game or intellectualization or whatever defense we are best at using and lets death come in even though it hurts. The part that accepts life the way it really is, even if it only lasts for a moment.

We feel.

Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

thoughts on "him" revisited from Dec 2005

Lord Jesus, Let me make him a better man
and never a worse,
Let me make him more beautiful
and not bring on him a curse.
Let my influence never be from Folly's way.
Let me speak words of Life, come whatever may.

Is it better to be once and then never again
if Folly falls too and sees her end?
let me not detriment the Vow I hold dear!
Then let this prayer be the one that is clear:
"Take me, dear Lord, before Folly has o'retaken;
and let not dreams sleep from fears awakened."

beautiful girls

I babysat some girls a few nights ago.

Have you ever noticed how statements like that sometimes seem like frustrating preliminaries? They provoke in you some emotions, because you understand everything that is associated with that sentence, but to others, it is a frustrating preliminary.

Nevertheless, I babysat some girls a few nights ago.

They were beautiful. It struck me. They were each intrinsically, inherently captivating. The kind that melts your heart and makes you want them to only experience the best all their lives and not be tattered ever by the world and its ways. 10, 7 and 2. I think. They all had the same mother, but three different fathers, and even though I have never met any of their fathers, I could see them in those girls.

The youngest they called Tator, a little girl who is as raw in her beauty as two-year-old girls should be. She behaved in such a way that results from the mindset and heart attitude, "Look at me! Look at how pretty I am!" - a mindset us older girls lose grips on much too quickly.

We watched Old Yeller which produced in me, as movies often do, an array of a deep monologue of thoughts and a representation in symbols of concepts deeper than the actual movie (that is worthy of its own blog), but the present demand for attention is one little girl who didn't care much about anything on the tv, but stared at me as I watched it. In her gaze, she reached her little glommy hand over and touched my arm softly. She was enamored as little children often are with new and had a grin as she looked at me. But there was a question she asked by her gesture. Am I lovable? Do you, new girl, do you love me? Am I lovely?

Of course you are, dear one, "Do you want to come by me?" She nodded in response and came next to me where we watched the movie together.

Organization of a Girl's Deepest Fears

There is a certain girl who longs for Prince Charming. And while she waits, fears grip her. They try to sink their talons deep inside of her and captivate her so deeply that she is far beyond the reach of liberty.

They do for a time. The fears grip her. They make her hate. They make her doubt. They make her feel worthless. They make her feel unlovable.

1) The first fear is that no Prince Charming actually exists.

I have, for a time, believed the series of lies that this fear whispered to me - the lie that there truly isn't anyone who is worth waiting for.

The series of lies might be best introduced by a man's explanation to me: "It's every man's final goal [to get a girl in the sack]. It's built into us." That every man not only has within him an obsessive desire for sex at some time, but also that every man harbors it and lets his mind violate women while licking his chops and not caring for her in any way. He reduces her to a thing that gives him intense, mindless, brute pleasure. He takes no note of how it makes her feel. And he will never change.

This man makes her feel afraid - like the whole world is unsafe and every man is abusive and longs to lord his hot dragon breath all over her. She feels hate. He has no regard for what lies she considers true: she is nothing more than sexually appetizing. She is repulsive in every other way. If she really wants a man, she must settle for one of these because they are the only type of man that there is.

The fear: all men are only capable of caring about what she is and desires her only sexually. He neither cannot nor does not care about who she is or value her in any other way. There are no good men, only no-good men.

This fear, if harbored, gives her a twisted outlook of the way of things. When she compares herself with him, she seems better, higher, somehow more noble. Her place above him may be due to her vision of herself too high, her vision of him too low, or both.

On the side: I really believe that the whole movement of feminism exists because, at least in part, of this world view. Women, and, for that matter, men also, are, in and of themselves, truly amazing - fearfully and wonderfully made. But because of men like these, women question their own worth. After a battle deep inside themselves, those women recognize a truth - they are worth much more than those men think. They launch a crusade on that truth's behalf demanding due honor and respect. They demand appreciation, but the men in their lives deny that they are anything besides sex appeal (or dishwashers or whatever dimishing lie those men believe). Those men lord their power over them, and those women fight to keep their reputation upstanding. They know no other choice because all around them, there exists the whole male dominated world who refuses to acknowledge their worth. The whole world is against them, and they must fight against it.

2) The second fear is that if Prince Charming, a man that is desirable and does not cultivate lust exists, he will not find or he will not pick me.

These lies I have recently stopped believing still make me shudder:
There are too few Prince Charmings. The ratio of good men to good women is like that of a ballroom dancing scene in Pride and Prejudice, "Men were scarce and many were in want of a partner."
Someone else will captivate him first. I will just be lucky enough to be too late. Or I will be on time, but he will have arrived at the place much too early.
Or we will just miss each other and never know it. A fluke will keep us from walking our destined-crossed paths.
Or I will meet him and recognize that he is Prince Charming. I will know him, but he will not find or take the opportunity to know me. He will be far off, and I will watch longingly as he passes by just out of my reach.
Or we will meet and we will know each other, but he will want something other than everything I possess. He will think that I am repulsive, or, at best, entirely uninteresting. I will not only be rejected, but I will know that he has rejected me and will experience the pain of that rejection.

The fear: good men exist who can both appreciate and desire women , but those good men will never desire or appreciate her.

This fear, if harbored, gives her a twisted outlook of the way of things. When she compares herself with him, he seems better, higher, somehow more noble. His place above her may be due to her vision of herself too low, her vision of him too high, or both.

3) The third fear is that Prince Charming exists, but he will not think that I am desirable.

We will meet and we will know each other. He will think I am interesting. He will appreciate me and make me feel like I am worth something. He will want to be around me. We will share dreams and exchange thoughts. We will be of like mind. Life around him will be wonderful because he will treat me like a precious girl, but I will only be that to him, a precious little girl. Like a sister, or a daughter. He will not want or he will not pursue more.

Some can cope with this. Some can not feel sorrow at this. In fact, I am there in my relationships with many men and even hope for this type of relationship with many more men. But the fear comes with the thought that this will be the only type of relationship I will ever experience - that the other part of me that longs to be desired will always go unsatisfied.

The fear: men appreciate her for all that she is, but will never have any desire for her beyond the realm of friendship.

This fear, if harbored, gives her a twisted outlook of the way of things. However, all unhealthy comparisons are gone. He is at the very place where he should be; she also is. She values him. He values her. But thise type of relationship coupled with hopelessness has the potential to leave a girl feeling quite sad. What if she can only be seen as untouchable to every man all the days of her life?

But this girl is beginning to be freed from those lies. In fact, someone keeps on pursuing her freedom from captivity. He prevails over and over again. He whispers to her regarding her first fear, "Men are evil, but I have redeemed some of them. Some of them look like Me because they have gazed on me. I have taught them how to love." About her second fear, He says to her, "I have created you, my love. You are exquisite. You are lovable. You are beautiful. You are captivating. I take utmost interest in you. Be satisfied with My love. It is satisfying." And her third fear - her third fear is a wonder. He takes special care in revealing to her the truth about her third fear. He gives her someone at just the right time. He gives her one of the men that He has redeemed - one of the ones that look like Him because he has gazed on Him. He gives her someone that He has taught how to love, and He lets him love her. Her creator loves her through him. And He says to her, "You will experience this love. You will not be an old maid forever. I have made one just for you. See?"