Scattered Musings

Later, a man lying awake,
he might ask it again,
just to hear the silence
charge him, this night
arching over your sleepless wondering,
...
just to remind himself
...
out of what immense good-bye,

each must make a safe place of his heart,
before so strange and wild a guest
as God approaches.

Li-Young Lee, Nativity


A poem Dr. Woolsey shared with us in London.

-------

Last night, I watched "East of Eden". A film adapation of a novel by John Steinbeck, starring James Dean. The novel is set in Salinas/Monterey, CA, which are classifiable as Northern Californian towns. Out of nowehere, I began wistfully longing, with a deep ache in my heart, for California. This doesn't happen very often; usually it occurs when I'm looking over all of my old childhood pictures and craving some REAL Mexican food. There's something very desolate about the West; something that always leaves one wondering; something that I can't quite explain, no matter how hard I try. I could use descriptors like "rugged", "untamed", and such, but I don't think that would do it justice. Of course, then again, it might. The colors there are less rich; the greens, especially. Even the blues, on the coast. Also, it rained yesterday, in Houghton, New York. It's the middle of December; it should be snowing--the snow coating the countryside like a little kid eagerly coats a makeshift gingerbread house with frosting. But it rained. Of course, it never snowed in Half Moon Bay, a town at the edge of the ocean, a town at the edge of the continent--in fact, even on a different continental plate than a town 20 minutes east by car.
A few years ago, my dad decided to take my sister and I on a trip to Monterey, as we hadn't spent a lot of time there, growing up. We usually didn't make it any further than Santa Cruz, for the beach boardwalk there in all its delight. The landscape down there is a bit different than that I grew up with. There was less sand, and more mishmashed colors in the shrubbery reaching down to the ocean. The trees were more akin to acacia trees found on African savannas. The ocean itself was more blue, more vivid, somehow; the weather was slightly more clear and less bleak. Half Moon Bay is one of the most fog-drenched towns on the entire coast of California, I'm sure. Perhaps this is why I resonated so well with London. This city with such roots in history and tradition (as I've come to associate the East Coast) yet constantly indwelt by this fog, this dampness, powerful enough to reach into the very marrow of your bone and take hold of your heart. Where is my home?
Is my home my dorm room, in Houghton, New York? My only ties to the place being my professors and my friends?
Is my home the Amish-owned house we rent in Rebersburg, Pennsylvania? A place I've not lived in for more than 3 months at a time, I think? A place my mom claims as her home.
Is my home still the house we rented in California, 756 Mill Street? With an adobe feel to it?
With childhood memories I can't quite or don't try to access?
Is my home London, a city I spent 3 months in, but that made me feel so alive? Where tea tasted somehow better than it does to me now?
All of this may just be nostalgic and sentimental fluff.
But, I'm longing for Home.
So desperately.

Psalm 85:10-11 (New Living Translation)
10 Unfailing love and truth have met together.
Righteousness and peace have kissed!
11 Truth springs up from the earth,
and righteousness smiles down from heaven.

From The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis

In Me ought thy love for thy friend to be grounded, and for My sake is he to be beloved, whosoever seemeth good to thee, and is very dear unto thee in this life. Without Me friendship hath no strength, nor shall endurel neither is that love true and pure, which is not knit by Me.

If thou couldest but perfectly bring thyself to nothing, and empty thyself of all created love, then ought I with great grace to overflow into thee. When thou lookest to the creatures, the countenance of the Creator is withdrawn from thee. Learn in all things to overcome thyself, for the sake of Thy Creator...

Forasmuch as when Thou art present, all things are delightful, but when Thou art absent, all things are a loathing.

for without sorrow none liveth in love...

Thy Beloved is of that nature, that He will admit of no rival; but will have thy heart alone, and sit on His own throne as King.

But now God hath thus ordered it, that we may learn to bear one another's burdens; for no man is without fault, no man without his burden, no man sufficient of himself, no man wise enough of himself; but we ought to bear with one another, comfort one another, help, instruct, and admonish one another.

Christ as the Bridegroom

This is one of my favorite passages of Scripture.

Hosea 2:14-23 (New Living Translation)
The Lord’s Love for Unfaithful Israel
14 “But then I will win her back once again.
I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there.

16 When that day comes,” says the Lord, “you will call me ‘my husband’ instead of ‘my master.’
17 O Israel, I will wipe the many names of Baal from your lips, and you will never mention them again.

19 I will make you my wife forever, showing you righteousness and justice, unfailing love and compassion. 20 I will be faithful to you and make you mine, and you will finally know me as the Lord.

21 “In that day, I will answer,” says the Lord. “I will answer the sky as it pleads for clouds. And the sky will answer the earth with rain. 22 Then the earth will answer the thirsty cries of the grain, the grapevines, and the olive trees. And they in turn will answer, ‘Jezreel’—‘God plants!’
23 At that time I will plant a crop of Israelites and raise them for myself. I will show love to those I called ‘Not loved.’ And to those I called ‘Not my people,’ I will say, ‘Now you are my people.’ And they will reply, ‘You are our God!’”

Isaiah 54:4-6 (Amplified Bible)
4Fear not, for you shall not be ashamed; neither be confounded and depressed, for you shall not be put to shame. For you shall forget the shame of your youth, and you shall not [seriously] remember the reproach of your widowhood any more.
5For your Maker is your Husband--the Lord of hosts is His name--and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; the God of the whole earth He is called.
6For the Lord has called you like a woman forsaken, grieved in spirit, and heartsore--even a wife [wooed and won] in youth, when she is [later] refused and scorned, says your God.

Attributes of God from A-Z

Father, You are abounding in love for Your children.
You are beautiful beyond description.
You create in us clean hearts.
Your light is dazzling, blinding.
You are excellent.
You are funny.
You are gracious.
You are holy.
You are indescribable (why do I even try?)
You are just.
You are knowable.
You are love.
You are marvelous, magnificent, magnanimous.
Your mercies are new every morning.
You are outrageous!
You are phenomenal!
You are quite beyond my expections of who I imagine You to be
You are righteous.
You speak truth.
You are unyielding in Your love.
You are victorious.
You are wonderful.
You are exalted above all others.
You are yearning for Your children to come home!
You are zealous in Your love.

Rest

According to Mark Twain, the worst loneliness is not being comfortable with oneself.

I often wonder, sometimes aloud, to my friends, how they can possibly stand being around me for more than two minutes at a time, and why on earth would they possibly want to be my friend? What could they (you, if anybody reads this) possibly see in me? I swear, they must just tolerate me. They're stuck with me.

So, a thought.

Really, I'm projecting these feelings of inadequacy onto my friends. I'm just not comfortable with myself. I don't like myself. Period.

Borrowing from the wisdom of a good friend:
as my long-suffering friends are simply there...willing to sit and simply be with me, very strongly...how much more does our Father desire to just sit with us, to just be there, among us and between us?
And in that being there, loving me silently and persistently, loving me out of my self-hatred, desiring nothing more than to dwell among me, to communicate with me, my spirit to His.

To place my entire ravaged restless heart into His care and keeping. To enter His rest.