Sunday, December 19, 2010


There’s something inside all of us that aches for more.
Sometimes we conceal it with a standard case of contentment.
But try as we might, we can never fully ignore the pangs of longing.
Why are there scientists? Doctors?  Astronauts?  Engineers?
Because we can’t escape the desire to learn more.  Help more.  Explore more.  Build more.
Christians say that it’s from God.  A way of reaching out to something greater than ourselves.
Evolutionists say that’s hogwash.  But even they can prove that that which has evolved, did so because it was ready for more.  Evolution is based on things growing MORE.  Nowhere in evolution did a man go back to being ape, who then decided that sludge was more fun than having four legs.
We all want more.
More property.  More money.  More friends.  More social status.
More wisdom.  More patience.  More strength.  More love.
More affection.  More happiness.  More contentment.
More. More. More.
It’s starting to sound like a non-word now, isn’t it?
Maybe it is.  Maybe “more” isn’t something you can have or attain, but a state of being.
I know that Mr. Webster would disagree.  But then we all disagree on pretty much everything now-a-days, so why not give a smart dead guy something to roll over in his grave about?
The thing with more is…there’s no end to it.
We drink because we’re thirsty.  But we always get more thirsty.  Why? Because our bodies need water to function.  We always need more.
We eat because we’re hungry.  But no one meal can “satisfy” us.  Why?  Our bodies need sustenance. Over and over again.  Always needing more.
We explore outer space, discover planets, send satellites to take pictures.  But that’s not enough.  Now we must learn if there’s other life forms out there.  We long to know if there’s more out there than we know already.
We accept Jesus into our hearts, but that’s not enough.  We seek more.  We seek His face, His heart, His arms.  We spend hours on our faces begging God for more.  Show us more.  Give us more.  Send us more.  Christians see this as a holy pursuit.
We’re never satisfied.  Not truly satisfied anyway.  Nowhere in the definition of the word does it show permanent completion or resolution.
Our bodies know when we’ve had enough food and water to meet the need of our life-giving organs, and this proves that there are times when our desire for more is temporarily satiated.  But without fail, at some point, our need for more returns.  If we don’t fulfill those needs, we die.
If “more” is an instinctual thing, inbred in all of us…than what are its parameters?
Is more of one thing worse or better than more of another?
Are they’re some “mores” that shouldn’t be attained?
Do we allow ourselves to get sidetracked by less significant “mores” when we should be pursuing only one?
Who draws that line?
Is there even a line to be drawn?
I don’t know, and I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to say that I do.  These are just the curious ramblings of a woman who wants more herself.
Which opens up a whole new can of worms.
Is “more” a want or need?
Is there a difference between the two?
While some physical “mores” are important to our survival, are there some emotional or spiritual “mores” that are more important than those?
Ah.  It is the desire for more knowledge and understanding that drives me to ask these questions in the first place.
What is my point with all this? 
I have no idea.  It’s just a stray thought that seemed worthy of following.
Perhaps it will bring a little “more” thought and reflection into your day.
And as I’ve tried to point out…
Who can say that “more” is a bad thing?

Friday, September 3, 2010


I was worried about wearing sneakers to a place like this.
I looked around and noticed that I wasn’t under-dressed after all.
The music is loud. The lights are bright. The fog machines make me cough.
I see the lyrics up on the screen, but I don’t really understand them.
I see someone next to me raise a hand and sway to the beat.
What did these people know about this place that I didn’t?
I’m not sure why I feel so out of place.
I’ve seen some of these people before.
There’s the guy who won a game of beer pong last weekend.
I didn’t know that he played guitar, or that he performed on stage.
I wonder if the other band members share this guy’s talent for stringing expletives together.
Wait…they’re talking about money now. Dang.  Nobody told me there’d be a cover charge.
I hope that the five dollar bill I put in the bucket is enough.
I didn’t hear anything about a price for this event anyway.
The screen comes to life with a recording…some kind of commercial now? 
I don’t get it.
I wish someone would just explain this to me.
There’s another guy on stage now…he’s all alone.
I think he’s some kind of motivational speaker.
I’ve seen guys like him before.
So excited about their successful lives that they talk just to impress the world.
I don’t know why he’s talking about death though.
I’m not feeling too motivated all the sudden.
But everyone around me is smiling…heck that woman is even crying!
I’m beginning to think I don’t fit in after all.
I tune out the speaker and let my eyes wander.
That guy has his hand up his girlfriend’s skirt.
I guess nobody is exempt from lust.
I hadn’t expected to see it here though.
People are standing up now, and they’re all looking at the floor.
I don’t wanna stick out like a sore thumb, so I do too.
I miss the cue to leave, and people are jostling out of their seats beside me.
Nobody even looks at me.
I follow the masses out into the sunlight.
I can now say that I’ve done it.
I’ve gone to church.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


I laid my head on my pillow last night.
Through the open window, I hear the song of a cricket.
Have you ever wondered what goes on inside that little insects head?
Scientists say that they make the noise to attract the opposite sex.
But I have to wonder...
How can anything God created be that horny...for that long?

Oh technology...

I’m alone in my room again. 

I survived yet another day in the world outside these four walls.
Not really a miracle by any stretch of the imagination, as millions of people accomplish this same feat every day.  But for me…here…right here…is where I’m most at home.  When I finally make it back here…to this place, I feel my universe right itself.

You see, when I sit at this computer and pour my soul out onto its black keys, I’m not being honest with you…my reader.  I could type anything, make you see exactly what you expect.  But you can’t see my face, distorted as it is by tears.  You can’t hear my screams, releasing the pain and frustration I feel.

I can type…”I’m fine”. While looking up ways to kill myself.

I can say…”Thanks so much.”  While I’m putting a pin in a voodoo doll that has your face.
You’d never know.

And therein lies my security.  False as it is.  Here…in front of this blinking monitor, I finally have control.

You with the perfect face, don’t laugh as you read this.  You know the idea of control all too well.  You’re so comfortable in your perfect little life…but one wrong move can have it crumpling around you.  Yeah…I know you’ve thought about it. I know it’s haunted you in your dreams.  You just keep struggling to maintain the picture perfect life you lead.  The thing is…you’ve surrounded yourself with so many weaknesses.  Any of the people you call “friends” could turn on you and send you into a tailspin.

Me?  I do have control.  Because I haven’t let anyone get close.  I’ve pushed them all away, or didn’t even try in the first place.

I am alone.

And it’s perfect.

I control me.  I control what I say and who I say it to.  I control what I eat, what I drink, what I put into my body. I control what goes onto my body too.  I control my heartbeat, my blood.  I control what I feel.

I’m alone in my room, staring at this monitor, and in what you would probably call a “twisted way”…I am content.

You don’t even know how much you secretly wish you were me.

(inspired by a movie I recently watched. these are not the feelings of the author herself. just sayin.)

Newlywed Musings

I’ve been married for seven months now. I can remember the day when I could only dream of sharing a life with someone who loved me.  Now I wake up to him every morning.  I eat beside him, work beside him, play beside him.  He is an integral part of my every day life.  I probably annoy him by my insistence that we do things together.  He dares to put on his shoes, and I’m asking him where he’s going.

Why?  Am I helpless without him?  Am I scared to be alone?


But when I stood beside him on January 10th and pledged my life to him, a desire to be with him constantly integrated my sense of being.  It’s not that I can’t be without him. It’s just that I can’t imagine why I would want to.

Not to say that it’s perfect.  I laugh when I say we have a very three-dimensional relationship.  You see, he is my husband, my best friend, and my brother.  These are three hats that he can throw on and off at his every whim.

He is my husband.  He kisses me goodnight before we fall asleep each night.  He prays with me when I’m scared of what life is going to throw at me next.  He holds me close and listens when I share my dreams. He defends me when others make me feel insecure.  He constantly tells me I’m beautiful.  He surprises me with random acts that show how much he loves me. He is the answer to the dreams I didn’t know I had.  He’s my hubby.

He is my best friend.  He often knows what I’m thinking before I can even formulate it into a sentence.  He makes me laugh like no other.  He knows what to say to turn my bad day around.  He’s the first one I tell when I have good news, and he celebrates victories with me.  He is the one I most want to hang out with.  He accompanies me to movies he’d rather not see, and shopping trips he’d rather not be a part of.  He listens to me give the gory details of a story, and even manages to appear interested half the time. We laugh at the same things, and have inside jokes nobody else understands. He’s my bestie.

He is my brother.  He makes weird noises that gross me out.  He leaves dirty dishes in his bedroom.  He irritates me with his off center jokes.  He wears the same clothes over and over. He purposefully says and does things to annoy me.  He likes to listen to music that I can’t understand.  He trims his beard and leaves the hair on the counter. We have petty fights over chores and responsibilities.  He’s just like another brother.

We have our moments of romantic marital bliss.
We have our moments of frustrated marital discord.
But all in all…

It’s perfect.  Because it’s how God planned it.  He put us together for a reason, and we’re slowly figuring it out.

It’s kind of funny, because I remember when we got engaged.  At that moment, we thought we knew why God had brought us into the other’s life.  We thought we knew the plan.
Personally, I think that was God’s way of lulling us into a false sense of security.  Now don’t think I’m accusing God of being cruel!  On the contrary, I think Him to be rather genius.
Jeremy and I got together because we thought we’d make a good team.  Our dreams seemed to work together side by side, and we could just envision how God was going to use us.  We thought that ours was a “deep love”.
Then we got married, and we began to see just how shallow our emotions really were. 
As the months passed, God began to peel back our layers, and forgive the Shrek metaphor; the onion inside each of us kind of surprised the other. It stung our eyes a bit, and stunk up our house.  All of the sudden, we didn’t understand each other at all.

Believe it or not, this was a good thing.
God, being the generous fellow that He is, let us think what we wanted while we planned our nuptials.

While all along, He knew that the reasons we were together went deeper than we could have imagined.

I’ve only been married seven months.  I wish I could write and say that I now know exactly why Jeremy and I are together. I wish I could say that God has mailed me a postcard with everything written out in vivid detail.  I wish I could tell you that I understand what God is doing with Jeremy and me.  But I can’t.
And for now…I’m okay with that.