Soul-Filling Silence

Let's go find a lake

Somewhere they won't find us,

Somewhere the noise

Inside my head 

Quiets or goes away.

Let's just sit here for awhile

As I remember

What it is to...be,

And please remind me

Who I am without the moving --

The constant, restless moving

And the doing.

It's something

I always seem to forget.

Maybe if you remember,

Some of the voices in my head

Will learn to just be quiet.

I'll know what stillness is

Apart from this running away

Into the hills to finally breathe.

Can we be quiet by these waters

And fill our lungs with air,

Sitting shoulder to shoulder

In this place, this connection,

Free from despair?

I'll look at you and smile.

You'll just smile back.

We won't need words here

In this soul-filling silence

Because I know I'm safe with you.

I am always safe with you,

And you'll remind me

I'll be alright. 


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I tried entering a poetry contest. I didn't place, but it's alright because if my poetry can somehow slip into the cracks in my heart and maybe resound in one or two other people's lives, then I'm content. Where are your happy places? Where do you go to escape your brain and life? 

Perfection & Compassion

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

courage to change the things I can,

and wisdom to know the difference.

Oh dear heart, I see you and I feel your exhaustion. I feel the weight of a burden too heavy you've been carrying on your shoulders and how it keeps forcing you to your knees. You keep pushing and pushing and pushing. I know because I do the same, and it seems the only way I learn this lesson of grace and compassion is on my knees, stripped of the moorings I've used in my life, with a keen awareness of my inadequacy.

We keep chasing after a perfection we think is possible to achieve without God's grace and righteousness, but it is only an illusion, a hole in the floor we fall into time after time. This hole is a suffocating place to pull ourselves out of. In this desolation, we have no hope but to cast ourselves on God's mercy and compassion, as if surrender is a last resort when it should have always been our first hope.

Why is it so hard for some of us to learn compassion for ourselves? Maybe we're molded by expectations set too high by those older than us. Maybe our environment, circumstances, or a fear of failure and disappointment formed us. If we do all things well, then we won't have to rely on this thing-- this compassion, this grace -- that doesn't make sense, that has no justice in it.

Maybe we'll never know the cause of this cruelty toward self, but it's there deep inside of us, worked into our very core -- the idea we are somehow unworthy of compassion from others, and especially from ourselves to ourselves. Oh, we would bleed from our very cores for others to know compassion and grace. We would fight for others to know rest, to know how it is to lay aside their load of expectations, their drive to do better, always to do better. What have we done so unforgivable that others are deserving of this grace but we are not?

Why can't we grasp onto the compassion God has extended and extends to us? If we cannot learn to accept God's compassion, then we will never be able to accept compassion from others or our own selves. This cycle will repeat endlessly.

We are torn equally between mind and heart. Logic and feelings. We have both, so what is missing? We raise high standards, impossible standards and become frustrated when we can never reach them. We fight against every aspect of being human with all our strength. Our wheels spin until we're burned out, and how do you come back from being burned out? How do you learn compassion for self and remember God's voice isn't the same as the condemning voice constantly on inside of your head?

We latch onto truth and forfeit grace in exchange as if the two could not exist together. Randy Alcorn writes, "People thirst for the real Jesus. Nothing less can satisfy. Grace and truth are His fingerprints. We show people Jesus only when we show them grace and truth. Anything less than both is neither."

Anything less than both is neither. 

There is no hope in truth and subsequent condemnation (I have fallen short and sinned, and now I am separated from God). There is only hope in compassion (I have sinned, and I sin, but God knows my frame is only dust. He knows. He knows. Beyond this, 'He who believes in Him is not condemned' - John 3:18a. We are not condemned. In fact, Jesus is in Heaven now as our great intercessor. As we condemn ourselves again and again, He intercedes.).

Yet, we believe so strongly in our pursuit of perfection that the pieces of scripture we let penetrate our mind show our pursuit to be right. The words condemn us because we are nowhere near where we are called to be. After all, perfect love casts out fear, and the very pursuit of perfection is driven by fear. 'Be perfect as your Father in Heaven is', and if we are not perfect or striving toward perfection with all our strength, then are we even trying?

We seem to forget how lopsided this arrangement of eternal life is in the first place. If we don't grasp a small inkling of how unimaginably absurd it is that we should have this gift, then we'll never know of God's heart. We'll never believe grace and compassion in all their wonderful colors.

Oh, if only we could take to heart the things we are shown of God's mercy, grace, and compassion. "For He has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted [persistent pain or distress, great suffering]; Nor has He hidden His face from him; but when he cried to Him, He heard." (Psalm 22: 24). God does not despise us, the poor and striving. He delivers the needy (Psalm 72: 12-14). We are the needy. Their blood is precious in His sight (Psalm 72:12-14). Our blood is precious in His sight. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds (Psalm 147: 3, 10). He takes pleasure in those who fear Him, in those who hope in His mercy (psalm 147: 11).

What He doesn't take pleasure in is the legs of men. He has no pleasure in our own strength (Psalm 147: 3), and yet, we do use our own strength. We fight for perfection almost entirely with our own strength, and we forget we are human. God never forgets our frame of dust, but we do. We forget our goodness is nothing apart from Him (Psalm 16:2) and that it is God who arms us with strength and makes our way perfect (Psalm 18:32).

So what do we do? How can we rest on this grace and in this compassion? We must grasp hold of the fact God's perfection is enough. It is not simple or something we will learn in a day. Maybe it will take a lifetime. A lifetime of accepting humbling compassion and grace from others and from God and in time, letting ourselves rest. We will fail and fall short, but we must get up and try again. We need to remember to look past our rules, regulations, and goals to God's heart because there is an easier way than the one we've chosen.

Our God is the God who said: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30). Dear heart, let us run to Jesus with all our tiredness from trying so hard and heavy burdens of unrealistic expectations for ourselves and learn from Him. This is the only way to start.

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This is something I've been struggling with a lot lately - compassion and perfection. Sometimes perfection has a way of sneaking into our thinking where we don't even realize how much we're influenced by it. I hope you felt love, compassion, and understanding as you read this. Do you struggle with perfectionism? What is something you do to offset that drive?  Happy Thanksgiving!

Maybe We'll Be Friends

Maybe we'll be friends

When we grow up

And fit inside another pair of shoes

And live another life,

Or maybe we'll only be neighbors

Who vaguely recall names

And the knowledge

We knew each other before.

We'll share similar scars

But only go skin deep.

We'll talk about the weather, 

Our cars

The jobs we keep. 

What about family?

No, we don't talk about our families.

They're the reason for our scars,

For our shallow, earthly conversations

With these people who share our lives.

Maybe we'll friends

When we grow up

And set out on our own

And cross a thousand deserts,

Only to return

To this familiar place

And make it our home.

Or maybe we could be lovers

Or friends who loved enough

To change the surface of our lives.

The thorns turn into roses.

The house needs new paint.

I think my wound started to bleed

As soon as you said hello. 

Maybe we'll be friends

When we both grow up,

Or maybe only friends right now

When something happened to align. 

Can we be friends for life?

I don't know half of what that means,

But it seems a lovely thing.

Maybe we'll be friends

When we both grow up

And fit inside another pair of shoes

And live another life. 

Two Years of Coddiwompling Along

I first started blogging in mid-2009. Like many of my other social media endeavors, I was pulled into it by a friend and had no idea what I was doing (still don't). Through the years I've gravitated from one blog to another. Sometimes it's hard to grow when you're stuck in the shadow of your younger self, and sometimes I just get the urge to set fire to everything and start over because I'm a perfectionist, and perfectionists want clean slates or you know, perfect ones. So I hopped from Where the Sun Shines to Scattered are the Writer's Thoughts to Trying to Fly to Coddiwomple with some months of absence in between.

I have had my ups and downs with blogging, but I'm not sad I started. It's not so much about this little corner of the world as it is the individuals I've come to know through joining this community. I mentioned in a post awhile back about one specific girl who influenced me most in my writing journey. Sadly, I lost contact with her, but her influence drastically changed my writing. Before I started following her blog and chatting with her, I had dabbled here and there in writing, but with her encouragement, I finished the first draft of my very first book. She even read some of my writing and overlooked my spelling and grammatical errors to see my potential #saintrightthere. If she hadn't given me that support, I'd probably have never written seriously and never reached the point where others could look at my writing seriously. There are no words to say to fully express my gratitude.

Without blogging, I also wouldn't have found GoTeenWriters, the second most important writing influence. I wouldn't have done a three-month writing mentorship which brought my writing up another level with its fine polishing. I wouldn't have found a fellow writer who was willing to read the second draft of my most important book so far and sweep me away with encouragement (and maybe I'm brave enough now to let others into my worlds). I wouldn't ever have known that my makeshift poetry wasn't just the stuff you write and hide in the bottom of some drawer. And I wouldn't have met a kindred spirit.

And that makes me glad.

Thank you to all who have read my blog, left comments, and loved my words. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you to Vanessa for being the first one to find my little corner and for sticking around the longest <3

A Post from Long Ago...

So I said I was going to post my first ever blog post, and I would have, but it's...it's beyond unepic. Essentially I talk about a jukebox I had installed at the bottom of my blog, and I thought it was the most awesomest thing ever. I pretty much used that first blog as an online diary under an alias (and I gave all my siblings 'code names' because my parents were careful about privacy. Ieuan, Sunaro, Brusselsprouts, etc. [I bet you can't guess which one was my sister]). It's great, in a very, very painful way. And I was faithful, more faithful than I am now, but oh, if only content was that easy to create :P. I finally settled on a post from my first blog (7 years back, not the whole 9) that had a little more substance. I hope you enjoy!

*Comes dashing in*
Imagine that! I haven't posted a post for a whole two days, unbelievable. Of course, I blame it on my book, ahem, a couple books to be specific.

Have you ever set about to type up some of your really old story stuff onto the computer? I mean the really old stuff. The days before you used line paper, punctuation, spaces etc. And when you look at the page you get this feeling of being real lost, and your eyes wander so that you keep on losing your place and sometimes you don't even know whose talking or what you meant when you typed this strange word. If you haven't then, *sigh* you don't know what I'm going through.

I'm typing up all my writing collection onto the computer for safe keeping. I am a pretty fast typer, when the pages are lined and understandable. Unfortunately, this isn't the case. So I usually spend a whole bunch of time typing up stuff on the computer, and by the time I'm finished my eyes are blurry and I feel like going absolutely crazy. So, I've been only getting a page of story in a day, plus a page of Beyond the Border that I wrote the previous day.

How is Beyond the Border coming? I'm losing some of my steam. Writing two pages (around 500 words) a day is starting to burn me out. I've reached the 57,000 mark and I'm puttering along. Today I left my character literally hanging, and she won't stop hanging for at least another 1,000 words (we hope more). The poor girl, what misery she has to go through for my sake. At least she has to be glad that I slightly changed her ending so it wouldn't make me cry. But this Damask Ofar guy is going to prove some trouble in the end. Oh yeah, and I'm contemplating about switching one of the numerous notgoodformuch guys into a girl so she (meaning Bethclaire for all those who are in confusion) isn't so alone in the world. I think I have the perfect character too.

Don't ask me about my story idea, it isn't coming along very good. Of course, I'm still recovering from my cold and I shared it with my brother so I was spending my days playing computer games with him (after I finished my writing of course) after all it was his Spring break. *Sniff, sniff* Only two more days till he goes back to school...and we have to put up with him going on about his classes (he's taking English, Spanish and Chemistry...or was it Biology?).

Oh back to the book. Twilight still won't let me into her world. So I decided I could only handle one complicated girl at once, so I put her on hold till Bethclaire's stories first draft is written out and then I may be able to have some brilliant idea about her.

I've also come to the conclusion that Beyond the Border can be a really good book with a lot of work.

Oh joy! *Looks at the clock and sees it is way past her bedtime*. Don't think I've surrendered to the late hours of a normal teen. This week has just been a little late. But I will get in bed earlier next week because my brother will (he has a bad habit of distracting me when I'm just about ready to go to bed). Besides I wanted to go to bed early today but we watched "Sense and Sensibility" The 2009 version.

Goodnight all! I hope you have a great weekend.

(Who is this person? Why does she seem so dramatic and energetic? Oh...but this person also put 'optimist' on her 'about me' page. So...yeah...)

Top Posts 

(These aren't the ones that appear on the sidebar BECAUSE my mom confessed she had saved my blog on those two music posts...so...)

I'll Take You to the Mountains

The Safest Place to Land

Music (January 2018 Edition)

Personal Favorites

(These are just a couple of the ones that are especially close to my heart. It was hard to choose. I'm proud of a lot I've posted on this blog, and that's something nice to be reminded of) 

Dear Anxious Heart

To Love Well 1 & 2

My Loss of Words

Random Questions

(I asked for random questions, and you delivered. Well, mostly my Twitter pals delivered)

1. Where is your favorite place to buy shoes?

Amazon! So...I know that's not an exciting answer, but I usually buy Keen hiking boots and live in them until they fall apart. And my feet still hate me. 

2. What's your current favorite song?

Definitely 'Between You and Me' by Brandon Flowers. That song <3. I've been playing it on repeat, and I hardly ever do that. 

3.If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?

Somewhere with a castle! Or the Swiss Alps because I do so love mountains. 

4. If you could star as a character in a book or remake of a movie, which character would you be?

Hmm. Maybe Muggles from The Gamage Cup. She'd always says funny things that actually make complete sense. 

5. Favorite food?

Anything cooked over the campfire on a camping trip. It can be so simple, but it tastes soooooo good. And you never seem to be too full when you're eating out beneath the stars. 

6. Favorite artform (applied?) Favorite artform (to consume)?

Probably writing, with playing instruments a close second. And I love listening to music. Somedays it's my only lifeline <3

7. Favorite genre of books?

Speculative fiction! (Or Christian non-fiction)

8. Thoughts on space?

I love space, although my knowledge of it does not equal my love of it. For some reason, other than the fact I have too many hobbies, I've never studied much astronomy, but I do love the night sky. Besides being in the mountains, nothing else fills me with such peace as lying outdoors at night and gazing into the sky and just looking at the moon.  

9. Favorite time of day?

Evenings/night! Especially in the Summer time when taking moonlit walks is easier. The high-elevation desert has cooled some. The world is stilled and so silent. Sometimes there's an owl hanging out in the neighbor's trees. The coyotes passing through. If I'm outdoors during that time, then all the trying and rushing inside my head pauses. I never want to go back inside.

10. What are your mornings like?

Not as peaceful as I'd like. For a great portion of my life, I used my nights as the time to get most of my creative work done, so subsequently, mornings became tough. I'm slowly working on setting my days to have more reasonable perimeters. If it's a good morning, I'll get up, take the dog on a walk, read my Bible/devotions, eat breakfast, and do some daily work at my Grandma's before heading to my job. 

11. Things that annoy you?

As the youngest, I didn't exactly get the luxury of being annoyed so there are very things that do annoy me. However, people who say they'll do things and don't do them get to me, and people who won't initiate. I'm trying to learn patience because humans are humans, but...ugh.

12. If you could talk to someone, living or dead, who would it be? 

Maybe Joni Eareckson Tada. She's been a lady I've admired since I was in my preteens, and I've read so many books by her/about her, including the devotion I'm reading through right now. She has been given so much wisdom through her suffering, and she has let God use her in so many ways. I think just spending time with her would be refreshing and edifying.


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What are some of your answers to these questions? When did you start blogging? Have you stuck on one blog through the years? What's your favorite part of this community? Thank you! <3