Like a parasitic leach...

Like a soft, warm towel that gently smothers and dulls the senses. Four walls and silence that all the more scream out the solitude and hopelessness of my limitation. Where do I go? nowhere. Who do I see? No one. What do I want to do? Nothing, just keep on sleeping. Anything to make a dent in the endless detestable excess of time I have.

The parasitic leach punctures my soul and takes, takes, takes and drains me until it's fat and satisfied. In anaesthesic heaviness of spirit, I stagger into a smaller space, a closet -- a tactic I would resort to as a child when I felt lost or angry. Being in this little area all to myself helps me focus inwardly more easily, helps me deal.

What a child indeed. I long for something, some relief from this darkness, but at the same time so enticed by the darkness. The devils of my brokenness delight in triumph as they gorge themselves on my weakness; up until now too scared to come out in the searing brightness of hope. Hope?! Where do you go, why do you hide your face from me. I am lost, I am lost. Come back and help me find my way.

A parasitic leach is what I would describe my afternoon-evening depression episode yesterday. I think I should stop taking naps, or at least, naps that last over one hour because I wake up and it's all bad from there. Somehow, coffee has been giving me some energy and boost of liveliness, so perhaps at the end of this recovery I'll be a caffeine addict who hates naps.

Anyways, that italicized bit from above sounds pretty dark and depressing huh? I was musing to myself while I sat in that closet that HMM, it would really be great to have some person at this time of recovering from my surgery who would be by my side 24/7 to take me to go wherever and do whatever I wanted. Friends are good too, but I can't expect them to drop their plans for the benefit of my own amusement. Yeah, someone like a personal assistant... or a boyfriend!! Probably the former because they're paid and would do a better job at making me feel better (or a personal assistant that's my boyfriend? ok that's just crazy).

But it was honestly how I felt yesterday and honestly, I feel better now just waking up to a new day and writing that out. But I know I have to be careful. I know I have to continue to trust in God and be good about giving over my broken spirit over to Him because this shit just escalates into more and more negativity until I really do let the darkness triumph over letting God's hope and love in.

I am weak. I do not have it all together. That shouldn't be so much of a surprise though x)

Stick it to the man part 1

<sup>How can I, a privileged and middle-class Asian American female, know what it is like to live sub-standardly? To live with hunger and lack as constant states of being? What a grand notion, to be worlds away from poverty, but be somehow drawn to confronting it, thinking that I can make a difference or something. Does that make me naively idealistic?

I've been inspired lately to ruminate about my socioeconomic status and how it is not something neither to be ashamed about when I see begging, starvation and the underprivileged nor proud of when I know I have the spending power to bring myself some material satisfaction. How can I be used to challenge what the world says what I need and have the right to own and instead seek and live out the truth that God is the sustainer of life (and not my things)?

From a book I'm reading by J. Matthew Sleeth:

Ten percent of the women and 3 percent of men in our country need an antidepressant to get through a day, a day with no fear of starvation, invasion or want. What's wrong? We find that we can buy a house, but not a home. We can purchase entertainment, but not contentment. We can travel the globe, but we feel utterly imprisoned. We have degrees, but little wisdom.


Indeed, what IS wrong? Why are we not deeply happy with our fancy phonemP3googletalktouchberries? Why is it that when I used to go on shopping sprees where I would spend hundreds and come back with beautiful and new things, it still wouldn't be... enough?

This summer I was going to learn a lot about poverty and social justice for those living on the fringes of society. But I realized I can and deeply want to make concrete changes RIGHT NOW in the way I think and live that could break down the way the world has dictated how I should live for money and materials. These things aren't mine, they are God's.

What does this mean for what career I will pursue, what kind of neighborhood I will live in, what kind of shampoo I will buy, and even the rest of my life?

And this is just part 1 of my ruminations on how I not only want to say eff it to "the man", but to actively act on how this serves the Jesus of compassion and justice, who had a heart for the poor and was generous and loving on all occasions.</sup>

I end with a very convicting verse from 2 Corinthians 9: You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

Amber

It's my party and i'll cry if i want to

Crying is so awkward. Someone starts to get wet eyes and all of the sudden we all freeze up and don't know what to do -- comfort the person? leave him/her alone? give a hug? give space?

I was curious as to what the purpose and function was of tears and found this on the one and only WIKIPEDIA!! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crying this can explain it better than I can.

Anyways, I think crying is wonderful. For someone like me who tends to bottle things up, ignore or delay the exasperation of my feelings, crying is like releasing the flood gates and letting all those collected feelings meander out of my system.

The fact that the human body can trigger this hormonal release that is a physical sign tied to a person's emotions is pretty amazing.

I thought I was an invincible tower that only slightly shook at the sign of a storm. No turbulence could vex or faze me. I am used to bouncing back within hours, a day or two at most of being disturbed. But I realize I am just as weak and fragile as anyone else. And... that's okay.

My good friend Shuyin sent me this passage from a book by John Piper, Suffering and the Sovereignty of God:

"God is God. He exerts a high and purposeful sovereignty. But we often misapply God's sovereignty when it comes to actually helping sufferers--both ourselves and others. Here is a common misapplication: "God is in control, therefore what's happening is his will. You need to just trust the Lord and accept it. Ignore your feelings. Remember the truth, gird your loins, and get with the program." Somehow stoic conclusions are fashioned from a most unstoic truth about a most unstoic God!

It's okay to plea with desperation, to lose my cool and to just not know what the freaking hell is going on. I can say more but I think I'm just going to end here and enjoy my peace =)