faith / life

eight years.

• by kerri

hello, I’m trying to focus but my eyes deceive me / focus — I’m witnessing history repeating.

–Made for TV Movie, Incubus

At about 12:30 am yesterday I thought about it. It being September 7th

And did not think about it again.

In semblance to what the rest of the faith aspect of my life has looked like for the last year and a half. if not more. If not more than the last year and a half, if not more distance. If not more of everything–except closer.

This was last year. And that is the same as my thoughts at present.

But I know I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve anything. I am blessed. I am blessed to be here, to be thriving, to be alive.

You keep healing me in spite of me / opening my heart and killing me for me / bring me back to life, yeah I’m gonna be alright / i got You on my side tonight.

me, october 2010

So, I will say thank You. Thank You for having patience, thank You for giving me hope, and thank You for life. Because I don’t deserve this. At all. And I need to not forget that. I need to worship, I need to love, and I need to live.

Still, two simple words raise from my heart: “Thank You”. Thank You will never be enough, Lord.

Why?

Why can I not see all around me? Feel it? Reach for it? Think about it. Why am I so resistant, so distant?

So emphatic about staying this way? So consistently pushing away from God–the only One I need to be holding on to?

I have woken up in so many ways in the past two years–why not this one, too? Why don’t I feel like I want to try to fix this? Everything that’s kept me . . . made me alive. Why am I, like everything I hate, taking this for granted? My own cynicism is obviously part of the problem–seeing people who also identify as Christians–who frustrate me by their actions of hate. The label process that I try so hard to deviate from. The things that lead me to change the Religious Views section on Facebook so many years ago from “Christian” to “I worship JESUS”.

Jesus. He’s who it’s all about. And maybe, instead of trying to wrap my head around everything that the mess that is “religion” is . . . I should just focus on who HE is first.

I want to reach forward.

But even when I do . . . I still have to open my hands.

court is in session, a verdict is in / no appeal on the docket today, just my own sin / the walls cold and pale, the cage made of steel / screams fill the room: alone i drop and heal / silence now the sound / my breath the only motion around / demons cluttering around / my face showing no emotion / shackled by my sentence, expecting no return / here there is no penance, my skin begins to burn

so i held my head up high / hiding hate that burns inside / which only fuels their selfish pride / all held captive up from the sun / the sun that shines on only some / we the meek are all in one

i hear a thunder in the distance / see a vision of a cross / i feel the pain that was given on that sad day of loss / a lion roars in the darkness: only He holds the key / a light to free me from my burden and grant me life eternally. / should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time. / should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time.

i cry out to God, seeking only His decision / gabriel standing confirms i create my own prison

i created, i created, i created, i created, i created my own prison . . .

should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time.

my own prison, creed

I create my own prison.

And I’ve been freed. I only have to walk outside of this.

faith / music

make yourself.

• by kerri

From the first time I heard the title track of the Incubus album Make Yourself seven years ago, I’ve (as I always am overanalyzing) constantly listened with a new appreciation of autonomy; of choice. The world only shapes us as we allow it to. Consciousness, mindfulness of what we are doing has every ability to win out if we let it.  Nobody is in charge of our reality except for ourselves.

if i hadn’t made me / i would have been made somehow. / if i hadn’t assembled myself, i’d have fallen apart by now. / if i hadn’t made me / i’d be more inclined to bow / powers that be would have swallowed me up, but that’s more than i can allow.

if you let ’em make you, they’ll make you papier-mache. / at a distance you’re strong, until the wind comes / then you crumble and blow away. / if you let ’em fuck you / there will be no foreplay / rest assured, they’ll screw you complete / till your ass is blue and grey.

you should make ammends with you / if only for better health, better health. / but if you really want to live / why not try and make yourself? / make yourself.

if i hadn’t made me / i’d have fallen apart by now / i won’t let ’em make me / it’s more than i can allow / so when i make me / i won’t be papier mache. / and if i fuck me, i’ll fuck me in my own way / fuck me in my own way.

make yourself.

–make yourself, incubus

There is the reality that we are shaped by our surroundings, however, we are not created/formed by them.  We can decide how we choose to let our circumstances alter our realities. It’s an intentional process of growth.

If I hadn’t made me, I would have been made somehow.

Letting go of apathy can be extremely hard–it’s evident in some past posts that I’ve been trying to let go of spiritual apathy for almost a year and a half now, and I’m still stuck.  In the process of that apathy though . . . I am allowing myself to explore my thoughts deeper through my disconnection. And that, i think, is a good thing.  Looking back on the last seven years, it is completely obvious that I have been being shaped, and then remodelling myself from what I did and didn’t like spiritually–kissing “religion” goodbye; preachiness goodbye; spiritual bullshit goodbye.  It’s not by the book, it’s not to the letter, but I am so much happier this way.

Assembl[ing] myself.

Spiritually, I’ve figured out for myself that it’s okay if I don’t follow all the “rules”. Others may not be okay with this . . . but that’s okay.

To me, that means love is love. Maybe it means “broken rules” and disconnect. All that can be okay if I let it be okay. It’s experiential, it’s experimental, it’s journeying with God . . . what’s the point of having a story if there’s not story to tell?

Powers that be would have swallowed me up, but that’s more than I can allow.

Though it sometimes perhaps felt like a curse, the fact that I simply couldn’t allow myself to become a cookie-cutter clone in the past has worked out to my advantage. The world has shaped me in many good ways, taught me many tough lessons, but in the end, I’ve still come out of it myself. “I don’t know what I am, but I’m not a category.” [inspectors of inspectors, driftless pony club.]

If you let ’em make you, they’ll make you papier-mache.

Choices, friends and good things, good influences, have lead me to where I am.  Mostly healthy in spite of this thing called chronic illness. Happy most of the time. A sense of insatiable wanderlust that is being fulfilled in more unexpected ways than I could have ever dreamed. I’ve fought myself. I’ve fought with the world around me.  And . . . I grew. To realize the importance of growing through these experiences.

You should make ammends with you if only for better health. But if you really want to live why not try and make yourself.

The world can impact me, shake me, teach me . . . but I am who I am.  If I’m not on the right path, well, I’m quite enjoying this one–so, if I’m fucking up, I’m fucking up my own way: the way that will teach me something and help me see things better every day.

If I hadn’t made me I’d have fallen apart by now […] and if I fuck me, I’ll fuck me in my own way.

make yourself.

We make ourselves. I make myself.

make yourself.


faith

all i needed was a light in the darkest place

• by kerri

–light, the rocket summer.

294089_10152346417585375_1564355214_n.jpg

God and sinners reconciled.

–hark! the herald angels sing, charles wesley

Awaiting what is coming.

Unexpected.  Unknown.  Beautiful . . .  in spite of brokenness. In the midst of chaos.

Joy. Hope. Love.

A spark.

Light.

faith

light my candles in a daze*: dissonance

• by kerri

*lithium, nirvana

did you give it up, did you give it up, did you give it up?

heard a lot of talk about the ocean / heard a lot of talk about the sea, now / heard a lot of talk about a lot of things /  never meant that much to me. / heard a lot of talk about my spirit. / heard a lot of talk about my soul. / but i decided that anxiety and pain were better friends / so i let it go . . .

did you let it go, love? / did you let it go, lover? / did you let it go, my friend? / let’s get it back, let’s get it back together, yeah.

heard a lot of talk about this Jesus. / a man of love, and a man of strength / but what He meant was two thousand years ago / means nothing at all to me today. / He could have been telling me about my higher self / but He only lives inside my prayer / so what He was may have been beautiful / but the pain is right now and right here.

operation spirit (the tyranny of tradition), live

 

 

yeah i found God and He was absolutely nothing like me […] i couldn’t take it anymore so i went back to the sea. cause that’s where fishes go when fishes get the sense to flee. / where you going now? what’s your plan?

yeah i found God, and He was absolutely just like me […] He opened my mouth, looked down my throat, told me i was thirsty / He said “i been, i been, i been, been in this water all my life, never took the time to breathe. breathe. breathe.

what you doing in this darkness, baby? when you know that Love will set you free? would you stay in this sea forever / try a little on eternity? / what ya doing in this darkness baby? looking down where the sun don’t shine. […] come on out into the light of love, child, don’t spend another day living in the sea.

where fishes go, live

 

a light to free me from my burden, and grant me life eternally / should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time.

my own prison, creed

 

its funny how silence speaks sometimes when you’re alone / and remember that you feel. / again i stand. Lord I stand, against the faceless man.

cause if the face inside can’t see the light i know, i have to walk alone. and if I walk alone to the other side i know, i might not make it home. / again i stand, Lord God i stand, against the faceless man.

the faceless man, creed

I want more of You, and less of the religion shit.

I’ve been to church once in the last six months, and to be totally honest, it didn’t do all that much for me. i’ve been stuck in this place for almost a year. And the reality is, I don’t know when that’s going to change. I used to become frustrated about spiritual passivity, spiritual apathy, in myself and other followers of Christ.

And now, I have been in that rut so long myself.

Thinking. Contemplating. Trying to act.

Refusing to move.

Refusing to listen.

my ears were clogged and it was so quiet.

are you alone?, fireflight

 

I realize this. And I do not know how to move.

I question so much, every day. I question why people act the way they do; why I act the way I do. I question what lead a person to be where they are at. I question why people who believe that Jesus changed everything; why people who say they fully believe in love waste so much time in hate.

quit playing religion games: there’s blood on your hands.

instead of a show, jon foreman

Why we judge each other: we all do; why we just shake our heads and walk away; why we do not even think about what is going on in our worlds anymore. Why we let life slip through our hands like sand and do not take a moment to realize what the potential holds for each moment as it sifts through our fingers.

I question my own choices. I question my thought process. I question in retrospect why I just walk away from a situation that I am not okay with instead of contemplating what I could do to change that situation or change my thoughts on that situation. That thought. That belief.

That dissonance.

Dissonance.

Why I do not care to change myself, yet crave this change. Why I do not know how to change myself. Why I drift further into this cyclic pattern. Why I have these thoughts day after day — why they have reached the point of no longer being questions, just passivities.  Why I cannot just grab on to You. Why I cannot own my desires to become intentional in every aspect of my being.

Why.

I succumb further to apathy.

Yet I feel apathetic towards even this.

faith

His heart ripped out to show me He loved me . . . [good friday]

• by kerri

circle encircles the earth, chance and choice break His heart, His innocent moves to save me and i, i am spared. His beautiful arm is bloody and cut off, HIs heart ripped out to show me He loved me

but i wouldn’t believe Him, He did all that He could, i still would not believe Him

i left His arms empty and tied, outstretched for me until He died

and no man shows greater love, then when a man lays down His life for His beloved . . .

and here i am alive, and i don’t have the right. and He gave me the right, costing Him His life, new mercies in the morning

i believe! what if i believe You now? could it ever change this heart? forgive me, relieve me, please come back to life.

come back to my life.

circle, flyleaf.