Whose Not Who

In the search for my identity I have often asked the question, "Who am I?"  Such an open ended premise being asked only in the caverns of my own mind is bound to be answered incorrectly or not at all.  I find that my mind is so finite that I answer all questions with finite answers. Instead of allowing questions to answer questions and accepting the ambiguity of things I simply cannot understand I fight for clear cut and defined definitions.

The  question of "Who am I?" is most certainly answered only when followed by another question.  "Who am I?" is not nearly as pertinent as "Whose am I?"  Which interestingly enough fully informs the "who" by asking the "whose".

The Bible says that God calls us by name.  By asking "Whose I am?" as opposed to "Who I am?" I am seeking out the wisdom of my Creator.  Who better knows the name, role and function of an item than its creator.  So, why would one think to attempt to inform themselves as to who they are by seeking out there self or others--since neither are the one who created them.

Now that it is clear that I am God's the question I ask the LORD is "What is my name?".  In knowing my name I will hear the LORD when He calls and then I can reply, "Yes, Lord your servant is listening."

The bottom line is:

If I do not know "whose I am" I will not know "who I am".

If I do not know "whose I am" I will not know my name.

If I do not know my name I cannot know when my Creator, the LORD, is calling me--since the LORD calls us by name.

I am not defined by "who I am", but by "whose I am".

With this Pen

"Granted this talk Unusual"

Granted this talk unusual,

Surplus of my mouth.

It overflows and spills anew,

These torrents old and new.

Granted this talk goes on and on,

But reaction to anxieties mound.

If I were silent I would explode,

And in my own I'd drown.

But cautions not my tale,

I'd rather walk the edges than in the center fail.

So, granted this talk unusual,

I suppose it's all okay,

Cause someday it won't matter,

For in my talk I'll lay.

"She Says"

"I'm going away," she says.

"Where no one will every find me," she infers.

But in her mind she knows that she won't stumble far from home.

She says, "I feel a push and pull."

And states, "I don't know why."

But in her heart she knows its because her heart is neither far nor nigh.

"I hate and yet I love," she says.

"Confused, I truly am," she proclaims.

But in her soul she knows that she is saved and bound for day.

So though she says and states and infers and even at times proclaims,

She truly knows it is all just fine no matter what the pain.

"It Is"

It is funny,

I love you more than you will every know,

And every winter I sit and wait for you as the falling of the snow.

I hoped you would return with love inside your heart,

But something held you back, away, you left a lonely part.

I tried to say "goodbye" to you,

But your face it clouds my mind,

And when I try to sleep at night in my thoughts you are entwined.

It is funny how I feel this way,

For a man I hardly know,

You come around as often as the falling of new snow.

You emptied out your pockets for a coin you thought was love,

But then you were mistaken by a child from up above,

Children won't be bought for trinkets or shiny toys,

They need their parents hearts and love to teach them how to fly.

So when you decide to open up,

To share with me your life,

I cannot guarantee that I will be here,

Waiting with all this strife.

"With this Pen"

A pen and paper shall be the way I clear my mind to free the day.

And when at night I feel consumed by this ink release is coming soon.

And by God's grace a prayer I write a time to breathe this freedom life.

When the storms and torrents roar,

When my fears abound once more,

And the waters never cease,

I will fear the LORD.

When the sun and moon are right,

When the sky is filled with light,

And the night gives way to sleep,

Still I will fear the LORD.

For His promise never fades,

My sins are set a breadth away,

As east and west stay part,

His love is near not far.

Daddy's Girl

Growing up in the absence of a father isn't easy.  So many young women act out, and justify not only their actions but also the consequences as a direct result of an absent father.  While I give some weight to such an argument I have often found it offensive, but now as I mull my offense over in my head I am finding that I am far from offended--I am wondering if it may be true and that scares me.

I realize that for twenty-two years I have been searching for a father.  But, while I was searching, somewhere in the midst of the darkness, I was supposed to grow up.  How does one grow up fatherless?  I have often wondered what would it have been like if he had been there? What would I be like?  Would I be better?  Worse?  Simply different?  I was never sexually promiscuous, a drinker or smoker, and for the most part, by all earthly standards, I have beat the odds.

Despite "turning out ok" I see my friends and mentors with their children and somewhere deep inside it still hurts. It is the same pain I felt as a child when I would visit a friend's house and see just how much their daddy loved them.   A river of tears wells up from a hidden cavern of pain and it is at that point that all of my insecurities come out to feed.   I fall apart and at the place of least resistance every father and every father figure becomes like a falling stone of disappointment.  

I know I have a Heavenly Father who loves me, but sometimes even that hurts.  That simple truth can leave one with so many questions and so few solid answers.  I suppose sometimes the only answer that matters is the truth and accepting it at face value, but that is easier said than done.

The challenge then is to grow-up regardless.  The search now has to end both in light of my age and in respect to the truth.  My greatest struggle though is that adulthood, at least in the United States, is one of individuality and the development of one's own family unit--thus far success is without crete.  Why is that?

Inability to Grasp Freedom

I had hoped that with the ending of a strenuous period of life would come freedom.  After four years of full-time school and almost always full-time work (sometimes plus) I thought that  I would feel a sense of relaxation.  Instead, I feel fear and anxiety not only of the unknown, but of my abilities and even more my inabilities.

The me that exists in the university classroom does not, and for the most part cannot, exist in the real world.  She is her own creation.  In that context knowing it all is expected, implored, and appreciated.  In the world this is not the case.

In the world the same people who implore you for your knowledge will most often be the same people who condemn you.  The amount of information is never right.  It is always either too much or too little.  You are either living under your potential or trying too hard.  Such inconsistency only exasberates this struggle and leaves me exhausted.

I had hoped that in this transition I would feel relieved and revitalized.  Instead I am tired and depressed.  I am not worn out, per say, but the years of work do not seem to have reaped the return I had hoped.  I wanted to walk away with my degree and years of work experience "happy", but I am far from it.  As the saying goes, "Where I go there I am" (PMVC).  

In a sense I have raped my body, mind and spirit of its energy and reserves to climb a mountain that may not have been worth climbing.  I am lonely as ever.  Books do not bring the same safety they did even a day ago.  I am striving nonetheless as best I know how.  With book after book in hand I am searching for the message I never heard.  The message where if I had heard it I may not have tried so hard in years past because trying would not have been as necessary as being.

The hope in my spirit does not burn the same as it once did.  Could it be that it was all in my mind?  A false sense of idealism built on the knowledge of men lacking the wisdom and heart of God is no place to stand, let alone a place to build a light house.

I cry from what I know, and even more I weep for what I desire.  The weight of the world is terrible--full of pain.  Too much to bare.  It leaves me tattered and naked stuck beneath its torrent and fear.  How can I be still when everything is dying around me?  When I can see and smell the rotting?  And yet, I know that I by myself am without power--I need the Lord. 

I desire wholeness and freedom that I may be able to throw off these weights and be free, but I do not know what freedom means?  Why didn't I spend four years searching after God and God alone.  I thought that I had found Him, but I know the truth is He found me.  Why did I turn my back so coldly to bury myself in the words of humanity?

I have lost the ability to connect.  Sleep no longer renews me.  It is what I do when I need to escape, and even then there is no escape from oneself.  Why then can I seemingly escape the presence of God--even when I do not want to?

For these I have no answers, but the Word says,

"The LORD is my light and my salvation--whom shall I fear?  The LORD is the stronghold of my life--of whom shall I be afraid?" (Psalm 27:1)

"Give thanks to the LORD for He is good.  His love endures forever." (1st Chronicles 16:34)

"I am the good shepherd.  The shepherd lays down His life for the sheep." (John 10:11)

"I am the good shepherd.  I know my sheep and my sheep know me." (John 10:14)

"God so loved the world that He gave is one and only Son that who so ever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.  For God did send His son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him. Whoever believes in Him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe in Him is already condemned, already because He has not believe in the name of God's one and only Son."  (John 3:16-18)

"This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men love darkness instead of light because of their deed were evil.  Everyone who does darkness hates the light and will not come into the light for fear that his deed will be exposed."  (John 3:19-20)

I do believe.  Why am I still bound?  If I cannot break free by my own volition, why then can I be bound by my own action even though my Spirit craves the freedom that only God can provide?

I do not know.  I suppose I will have to wait on the Lord.