Jeremiah 33:2-3 “Thus says the Lord who made earth, the Lord who formed it to establish it – the Lord is his name: Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.”
I have asked myself ten times over: Who am I? In the past, I would banish any self-doubt by rushing into an ill-prepared answer without over-thinking the truth behind that question. Frankly, I did not want to be honest with myself. I wanted to find a quick definition that would connect me with those I was trying to impress. Have you not ever tried to press yourself into two or three molds in order to reflect back the same visage or personality embodied by the environment of people you wish to impress or be accepted by? Whether you have or not, I have. And, it began to wear me thin. I became obsessed with defining myself as others may see me, and in the process, I forgot that only one set of eyes are worthy of my impression.
Not everyone who reads my blog will believe in God, but I do and I can’t deny that fact anymore. Because…God is the only one I should be worrying about impressing. And to impress God means that I don’t conform to how others would want me to act or look or define myself, but rather conform to the image represented by God – love of others, purity, self-control, slow to anger, etc. These are qualities that keep me focused on developing a gentle spirit that longs to see the world come to understand saving grace and acceptance and eventually joy with the understanding that there is life after death – a triumphant life with God – worth pursuing without fear of what others may think.
All that being said, you are going to see a pretty drastic change in the subject matter represented in my blog. I won’t be deleting any posts because I think it is wise to know from what state my heart, perceptions and words have developed and grown. I am not dissatisfied with the words I have been sharing with you thus far; I am just dissatisfied with their content. I’m not ashamed of anything, but I think God has a bigger purpose for this little blurp of space occupying the internet and so I’m planning on making my words count for a higher purpose.
I’m not planning on everyone agreeing with me, but maybe, together we will see how words can truly affect people’s lives for the better. That is why we write in the first place, isn’t it? To persuade people to view life differently. To highlight alternate perceptions of the reality we all share. I hope that you will join me and we can debate issues and conquer questions that plague our hearts. Hopefully, through sharing with you my faith and unaltered opinions on truth and love, we can discover real truth after scraping away all that seems convoluted by jargon and deception.
I love to sleep. I mean, I really do. I love taking naps. I love sleeping in till mid-late morning. I love how the pillow conforms to my head and the fleece blanket is light but warm enough to keep my cozy. My bed is definitely a sanctuary. In fact, my room when ten o’clock to eleven o’clock rolls around transforms into a separate world from the rest of the planet. I like to think of my bedroom as a space ship having crash landed on an alien planet, and inside this space is all my necessary elements for personal survival. I have my collection of note books and journals, my easel and oils, my candles and fragrances and my posters. I have my computer here where I do the majority of my writing and anti-social activities like play an addicting game on facebook. I do not really like to admit that I play a hidden-pictures game, but I do and find it extremely relaxing. I refuse to let it rule my life currently, but tomorrow is a new day after all. Anyways, I did not want to get into that. You should know that I love to sleep. Perhaps it is more than just the need for rest that compels me to sleep as much as I do. Honestly, I think that I sleep because I love to dream, and my dreams end up as the fodder for many poems and stories that I write.
I had a dream the other day that involved my friends, but for the life of me, I can’t remember any of the details. Isn’t that the most frustrating thing in the world? As a human, I marvel at the functionality of our brains, but it totally baffles me how I can have this killer dream that I KNOW would be the perfect story or poem or painting, but when I wake up and return to the world of the living, the dream has melted and not even a lingering whisper of what it was is left behind in my conscious mind. Perhaps it is suspended somewhere in my subconscious like a bowl of whipped cream with cherries buried in it that requires a decent spoon to dig them out. I don’t fancy the idea of someone scooping out my subconscious with a spoon, however, so I can resign myself to be satisfied with the dreams I do remember and not let frustrations rule my perspectives.
For a large majority of people, I have come to understand that 11:30-Midnight is not very late, but for me, I feel like a zombie currently in search of a comfy grave to rest my restless bones. I wanted to write a long post about sleeping and dreaming, and instead have fallen away from that goal to tell you about how sleepy I currently am. Is this an example of blogging in the moment? I don’t know. All I know is that the pile of crumpled up blankets and disfigured pillows on my bed is singing a lullaby that makes my fingers heavy and my eyeballs droop. The honeycomb candle flickering on my desk and causing shadows dance for me along the walls is lulling me to sleep as well. So, dearies, I think it is time for me to say goodnight and wish for you most pleasant dreams (that you can remember in the morning), and sign off for the day. I need to plug in my brain charger.