for Dave.

5 months ago I moved in with some friends, in a little town called Crofton. Together we would go downtown to Duncan each week, to meet with people who are hurting.  People who are beautiful. With them we laughed, cried, at times were frustrated, listened, sang, hoped.
Among these people was our friend, Dave. He was kind. He shared deep story and deep questions. He let us be a part of his life, and he is a part of ours. I only got to meet him a few times, and I wish I'd gotten many more.

It's been over a month since Dave disappeared.
We don't know where he has gone, or if he is still...we don't know if he is still alive. (And it is a feeling like suddenly having your chair disappear from under you to speculate this;) it is most likely that he is not.

Today is Dave's birthday.
We will celebrate. We will celebrate because of the privilege of knowing his story. Because of his good nature in spite of terrible circumstances. Because of his smile. Because we have not forgotten him, and he will continue to be remembered.
We will celebrate Dave today, because he matters to us.

I wish he were here, and we could celebrate with him.

I'm okay.
Trying to be okay.

Struggling to be okay.
 
In a place where hope, on a personal level, seems somewhat fictional. Like an idea, something that is a reality for all others, something only I am unable to find.
I'm ashamed of this. Maybe that's why it's so hard to talk about. Maybe that's why it's so hard to find hope - the secrets and the shame, and the way I hold on to them.
 
I guess this is a confession that I sometimes fight with more fervor to protect my shame, this sense of identity, than I ever have for hope and truth. It is a confession that sometimes I lie down in the mud and give up, because it hurts too much, I'm just too damaged, I can't see a way out, I don't deserve a way out.
It is frequently hard to see, but more often than not there is someone willing to come alongside and help pull me out, but it is something I have to choose. Hope and truth -and maybe even help- are constant, but they are not one-sided things. I have to choose not to lie down in defeat. To accept an identity not defined by shame and sadness. To grasp the hand of the one ready to pull me up. To trust there will be victory. To believe that hope is not a work of fiction. Hope is real.

I wish I could leave you with these words and say that everything is peachy, but the reality is that it's not. Reaching out and stepping into community is still hard. The fight can be and has been exhausting, and failures discouraging. Embracing the truth...maybe that's the hardest of all. And though hope is not a work of fiction, I am struggling to believe it.

it's not so impossible

After a time of being very discouraged, this was an incredible week.
Kicked it all off with a girls movie and appie night. To be honest, I didn't want to go. Feeling anxious and more like a burden than able to have fun - but I decided to go. So glad I did. So glad to have had that time with those women, that lightness of heart mixed with genuine care for one another.

Follow that with a great chat with a friend of mine, and being encouraged to live as free, because the Son has already given me freedom.

Honored to sit in on a Kaleo chapel. Learning (with painfully slow speed) about transparency within myself, and how to respond to it in others.
STOKED to've had a visitor, one I'd missed so dearly, and will miss again now. Sufjan was a party. So talented, and some of it very unexpected.

I'm realizing now that I haven't been spending time with others much at all. And I am realizing now how much I missed being with people. And inspite of my real or felt rejections, how much I love them.

Some days I am thrilled to be living in Crofton, and some days I feel the complete opposite, but today I am thrilled.

The teaching Rob shared with the church was near unbelievable. I cannot number the amount of words that rose from today's service which were, with incredible likeness, what I have sprawled across last weeks journal entries. Perhaps the most significant thing about these repeated words was knowing that I am not forgotten.

I love working with kidztown. I cannot get enough!
And the more we meet with these kids, and the leaders afterward, the more I realize that we are doing more than just playing with kids on a Sunday afternoon. We are working together to give them a safe place - a place where their stories are valued and their voices heard, where they are wanted and cherished, and away the darkness of this world.
And in some crazy, incredible way it is what I am experiencing in that place aswell.

This was a day brimming with laughter and delicious food and heart-to-hearts and hope of freedom.

Sept 27.

Great day today; talking music and life with my old pals at hmv, catch up with Dan, Toy Story 3 at IMAX, exploring in the downpour with Nickers, the date for Cambodia is set, and beginning to explore/understand what it means to agapeo truth.

and the world is flawed

but these scars will heal.

Hurley!

http://www.altpress.com/news/entry/weezer_release_artwork_for_hurley/

Be emotionally honest.

It's a statement, like many statements, that is easier said than done. We can say it's important, but until we know what emotional honesty looks like, being told to partake in it isn't of much use to us; it's relatively frusterating.
Perhaps, like me, you've lived in a house where emotional honesty has been devalued and thereby, a little bit distorted. Maybe your dad yelled at you when you tried to speak up. Maybe a treasured friend didn't care. Maybe it just makes you feel weak and exposed. Whatever the case, you, like me, may have taken emotional honesty and allowed it to be twisted up until it started to look like an enemy. Please don't do that. What's happening in your heart is valid. It's important. And I/we want to be a part of it.

Emotional honesty means it's okay to express your heart. It's okay to have had a crappy day. I'm not glad that you did, but it's okay to tell me so. Emotional honesty means that when you feel hopeless in every way, or perplexed, frusterated, abandoned, excited, exuberant...you can speak it out. We need to know that we are not alone - we need to know that we are not going though these heartbeats alone.

If we can express our hearts, it means a lot. It means that others can hear you, and how often is it that we simply want to be heard? Not only that, but we can learn how to love you (forgive me, as I make mistakes in learning to do so), support you, cherish you, suffer with you, and rejoice with you. We can learn that we're not alone.

But if even that leaves you feeling like your honest emotions don't matter, consider the fact that we learn from each others stories. We were created for community. And we long for community.
In times when I have come alongside a hurting friend, when I have listened to anothers heart cry, I have learned infinitley more than I have ever on my own. I am sure that through sharing our stories we help each other. We begin to identify our behaviors and the ways of thinking behind them, to identify what is truth, and recieve healing.

Most importantly, it is good and valid and important to be emotionally honest, because we are called to, by our Creator and Friend. And if he deems it worth while, it must be.

And so because we are being honest, we can be ourselves. There is no reason to hide. Embrace knowing and being known! In bearing our hearts, lies can be exposed, and the truth of Christ spoken over. Because of that, for me anyway, emotional honesty means stepping toward freedom.

twloha blog - You matter very much.

i hope you know you're not the only one who feels the way you feel. You are not the only one who struggles. You are not the only one with questions. You are not crazy. You deserve to be heard, to be known. You deserve love.

You deserve love.

You deserve a place that feels like home. You deserve some hands to hold. Hands to pull you past the broken moments, hands to catch you when you fall. Eyes to see you. To say you're there, that you exist, that you change a room, that your presence is significant. Ears to hear you - hear your stories, hear you laugh. Ears to hear your questions and to say they matter.

Your questions matter.

Maybe call a friend today or invite someone to coffee. Tell someone they matter or tell someone you could use a conversation. Write a letter or ask someone how they're doing. Like a song too much. Feel the drums or get lost in the chorus. It means that you're alive.

It's good that you're alive. Who else could play your part?

i hope you get to a place, wake to a day, where that feels true. You deserve to know it's true.
To Write Love on Her Arms is a community of people with questions and struggles. It is for broken people and it is led by broken people. Life is heavy and light. Life is both. Beauty and pain, aches and dreams... We are saying that it's okay to talk about those things. We are saying that we need to. We are choosing to believe that stories deserve better endings. That hope is real, that help is real, that people need other people.

You are not alone today. You matter very much.

Peace to you.
jamie

I have an early shift tomorrow, but I can't sleep. Maybe it's all the chai I just drank, or maybe it's all the thoughts swirling in my head...probably both. Either way, I'm up.

This week has been fairly productive, in terms of relationship. Amidst quarrels and hard moments, there have been hearts and burdens shared - loads made lighter. Can't believe the great chances for talks that were opened up by that honesty.
Chances, too, for reconciliation. Though far from complete - steps are being made toward it, and that is so good. At the same time, lots of heart ache for relationships that have yet to be reconciled. In all of this, I am learning to be patient, forgiving (of others and even myself), faithful and genuine.
Even in incredible heartache, I am seeing how Christ longs for us to be reconciled to him. If I am longing for repaired relationship, how much more does he - who loves us so desperatley - long for restored relationship with us!

Moving day is coming incredibly fast. It's hard to believe I'll be a resident of Crofton, and of the Jones household, in under two weeks. GAH. It's exciting...I need to PACK!

"For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with each other, so that you do not do what you want." (Galatians 5:17)

There is a constant struggle between the old nature and the new in every believer's heart. The old nature is very active and loses no opportunity of plying all the weapons of its deadly armory against new-born grace. On the other hand, the new nature is ever on the watch to resist and destroy its enemy. Grace within us will emply prayer, faith, hope, and love to cast out evil. It puts on the "whole armor of God" and wrestles earnestly. These two opposing natures will never cease to struggle so long as we are in this world. With Jesus, who is always with us, the new-born nature is more than a match for its foes. Are you fighting with the adversary today? Are Satan, the world, and the flesh all against you? Do not be discouraged. Fight on! For God Himself is with you. Jehovah Nissi is your banner, and Jehovah Rophi is the healer of your wounds. You will overcome, for who can defeat omnipotence? Fight on, looking to Jesus. Although the conflict may be long and hard, the victory will be sweet. Jesus, the Captain of our salvation, assures us that we will eventually become more than conquerors through Him who loves us.

(Charles Spurgeon, Morning by Morning)

Remember her today

Today I met a very sweet little lady, around the age of 65, needed a walker for support.
I was working at the store, and she was browsing through a rack of shirts on sale. She and I got to talking, and it was then she said "I do love the sales. Especially like to shop when I'm depressed."
My heart sank with concern, she looked up and said "And honey, I'm depressed."

"Are you okay?"
"My husband just died." She sifted the racks a little longer, finding the only shirt she liked to be a little too floppy. It was pronounced a floppy shirt, but she carried it along anyway, telling me she'd wander over to the next aisle.

I followed her, to wish her a good day, and tell her if she needed a walk to please come upstairs to kidswear and find me. I'd love nothing more than a walk with her.
She looked at me with tears that she wouldn't quite let flow.

I am pleading with you, Father, bring that woman back to the store. I don't know even her name, just that she's the precious woman with a leopard print blouse.
Lay it on her heart that she come back. Cross our paths again.
I get the feeling she's dealing with this heart ache all by herself, and I can't bear that. She can't do it alone. She needs support, she needs You.
Please let us have a walk together. Please Daddy...please.

Sharing, bearing, helping.

I desire desperatley to write to you, dear friends, yet words run dry, and my mind remains relatively blank.

The longing in my heart is for deep, and close-knit, and challenging, and oh so wonderful community. Realizing that this is something I've known very little of, even on a small scale; the tendency of my heart is to wall up, and hide, and create unachieavable standards. Perhaps in creating such standards, I am trying to justify a reason to hide - but all I have really done is hurt the ones I care about. If you are reading, and have felt the sting of my distrust (as you almost surely will have) I am ever so sorry to you.

The truth of the matter is that, even now, the measure of trust I give to others is quite small. Please be patient with me, dear friends, I am having to unlearn a lifetime of distrust, and slowly learn to invite others into this heart of mine.

What does it look like to know and be known, to love and be loved?

Feeling stupid, and a little ashamed, I admit that I've not the best idea what it looks like to have friendships full of trust and openness.

Prayers, words, action, and admonishment in such things is sought and welcomed.

long overdue

Largely because the sudden jump in the number followers to this blog, I've come to the realization that some of you are still reading, and I ought to start writing to you through these virtual pages once again. These are letters of my heart, what I am learning, contemplating, struggling with, and hoping...letters I am writing to you.
I do hope you will continue reading.

Though I feel the need to apologize for the long lengths of time I sometimes go between these "letters" perhaps I shouldn't. The past few months have been a time where I simply have not had words to offer, I think we all have times like that. Sometimes there is much more a need simply for communication, and not so much an apology. So what I apologize to you, dear ones, is for poor communication - and for that I am truly sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you hanging, unsure of whether or not I would ever return to write again.
Looking at what I've just written, these questions seem a small bit silly from a blogging standpoint. But what I see is that just as I lack proper communication in this blog, I lack proper communication in day to day life. That is what I am seeing as I write to you, and that is what I am apologizing for. From blog post, to pen and paper letters, to phone calls, to days spent together, my communication skills have been incredibly poor.

Would you be willing to be patient with this heart, forgiving of this heart, as I learn how to communicate and partake in "effective relationship"?

These words are not enough to tell of Your great name

Praise the Lord with me!

The relationship my mum and I have is better than any time I can recall! We can talk, I am beginning to find an ability to express to her when she's done something that has hurt me (expressing my honesty in love...and understanding that it's OKAY to be frusterated sometimes). We've been spending more time together, doing even just simple things. Making dinner, watching a movie, looking for our new house. There is healing.

A revelation of the value of fellowship. As I speak with dear friends, perspective steps into the light. Though I have felt distant from Christ, HE IS WITH ME! It only took a moment to see this, to sit down and find words to share of how this week has been. In those moments, story after story gathered. He is teaching me, and providing for me, and making me like him (both more like him, and like him more). He has been unfathomably gracious, and faithful.
He has brought healing to friendships falling apart. He has brought the promise of hope into my own broken heart. He has brought loved ones out of darkness and into his glorious light. He has filled my friends here with courage to speak truth, even when it hurts.

He has cloaked my heart in gentleness. There is a crowd growing agitated, with the reasoning that no one cared much about Haiti until an earthquake hit, they should've cared before. And yes, they should have, but what does it matter - they care NOW. That place is being shown love now, and so I will count this earthquake as a blessing. There is hope for a city rebuilt! My hope is that this city will be built on the only firm foundation, which is Jesus Christ.

Hallelujah, the Lord is with us! Praise the Lord with me!