restoration

Sometimes I wake up and I long for more. There are days when my normal life suits me just fine… when mundane tasks and normal schedules are fine with me, and sometimes refreshing… Yet there are other days-- days like today-- when I say to myself, “Charlotte… you have to do something with your life”… and the “something” can’t just be anything ordinary. Although I’ve always felt that passion has been an integral part of my personality since the day I took my first breath, living this summer for the first time as completely an adult and for the first time in isolation has taught me immeasurable lessons...lessons that I plan to write about over the next month out of fear of forgetting them but also out of joy in sharing the contentment that I have found.

Anyone who knows me vaguely well knows that I find great enjoyment in coffee shops, not only for the fact that they have coffee, but mostly because of the atmosphere. My favorite coffee shops are in Hillsboro village in Nashville. I like them so much because they provide an atmosphere that I find myself most at ease in; I kick my flip flops off, sink into a comfy chair, and lounge in the tranquil summer heat, reading, reflecting, writing, sipping on something delicious, and lavishing in the sights and sounds and smells that are the wonderful city that is Nashville … cars whizzing by, music always playing in every direction, the candle waxy sun melting down on me, the light breeze teasing my hair. I’m not hard to please. I miss my home for these reasons, and I plan to spend some time doing these things when I go back to visit next week.

Today is Saturday, glorious Saturday – the day that nothing is required of me and the time is all mine… and I was thinking Borders. Not only does Borders have coffee, comfy chairs, and big windows with sunshine streaming through, but they have BOOKS! Lots and lots and lots of them! Honestly, what more could I want? Although I came with the intention of studying, that intention quickly faded as I walked past the magazines. I love magazines simply for the pictures.

I would say that six months ago, had I walked into Borders, I would have made a beeline directly to that section. You know… THAT section… the one with Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan, Glamour, Redbook, Good Housekeeping, Lucky, Elle, Vogue, InStyle… THOSE magazines that tell me how I’m supposed to define myself… what I’m supposed to look like, dress like, act like, how I’m supposed to flip my hair as I walk, apply the correct shade of lipstick, and make a man fall in love with me. Six months ago, those things mattered to me... those things defined me… and every time I didn’t “measure up”, a tiny piece of me would die inside whether I acknowledged it or not.

Today, I walked into Borders, took one look at that section, and walked past it, uninterested. Instead, I picked up a literary magazine combining photography and writing, a craft magazine, and southern living (just for old times’ sake). I flip through, fingering the pages tenderly, relishing the beauty on the page as my mind slips into the photograph, my heart washing away with the ocean and my soul lying bare on the page.

I am a passionate, courageous, strong woman because I serve a god who teaches me that true beauty is found in the simplicity of His creation… that I am loved beyond measure even as the world shouts at me that I am worth nothing, I deserve nothing, and I am nothing… He teaches me that I am beautifully broken, which allows Him to make me perfectly whole… that I suffer because in my suffering, I find rest with Him in the knowledge that I share in His sacrifice for me. Because of my God, my ability to love far exceeds that of this world… and I continue to pour myself out on this bleeding world that He made, that He loves so deeply, loving and loving and loving and giving until I have nothing left to give…. And then turning my face to Him, feeling Him shine on me and hold me close, healing me, restoring me, nurturing me, and whispering softly in my ear… “You are mine. I will never let you go. I love you."

hurting for our world.

we watched a video today in one of my classes showing 9 minutes of video footage from the indonesia tsunami last december. it showed the waves washing in and killing people- taking them down and washing them away. all i could think about in my mind was, "why god? why? why would you let this happen? do you really love these people? then why?" i can't stop replaying the pictures through my mind and asking those questions. i want to know why them and not me. why are they any different? i feel guilty for having a good day because i know people are suffering. i hate our country for going on living in our wealth and materialism while stuff like this is happening on the other side of our world. i feel shameful for watching that video and then just going on with my day like it never happened or just feeling sad for a little while and then forgetting about it later. how can anyone seriously be human and not be seriously upset by watching that? my teacher said the video was "touching" and that just flat out angers me. how can others' suffering be simply "touching" to us, as we slide back into our days of fancy cars and nice homes and wealth? even the poorest in america are wealthy compared to these people. i'm angry because even after watching these horrible, very real videos, people still continue to do nothing. even after no longer being able to use the excuse of not knowing, of being ignorant americans- even after being educated- we still do nothing. we still call these videos "touching" and go on with our days feeling kind of pitiful, or maybe completely forgetting about it and not feeling anything at all. god says, "to whom much is given, much is required". is it stupid that i feel like i'm obligated to do something? as a child of god, isn't it a command that i get up and do something? how can we as children of god and so-proclaimed followers of christ watch these videos, watch footage on cnn, and proceed on with our daily lives like normal? am i the only one to walk out of that classroom feeling anger and resentment, but also like my heart would fall out of my chest because that's how much i hurt for our world? and yet.... who am i? what can i do? why should it matter that i feel this way when everyone else around me is blinded by their sourness?

"and my soul wells up with hallelujah." -chris rice