Of Passion

I've never run up a hill with my arms thrown wide in a nun outfit belting in song. Have you?

I have however, run around a bedroom on stage in pajamas...belting in song. The Sound of Music is the one real play ever to receive my secret acting talents upon its memory. I had a prestigious role: VonTrapp daughter, Louisa. Approximately 7 lines in the entire play (not counting songs) and one fluffy pink party gown (the highlight of my acting career). I was fourteen.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings, these are a few of my favorite things."

I sang this song (and danced to it, too!), but apart from the "raindrops on roses" (only if they're yellow), the lyrics listed very few of my favorite things. Bright copper kettles remind me of scrubbing for hours. Warm woolen mittens make me want to buy anti-itch cream. But we all like to talk about our favorite things. We all like to share what quickens our hearts, what widens our eyes, what makes us gasp, what makes us smile, what makes us secretly want to throw out our hands and run up a hill in song (okay, maybe not that far).

Everyone has loves and hates. A professor of mine started a semester class with, "Write down two loves and two hates." Then, "Share them with your neighbor." The room exploded with passion--from hatred of celery to the love of waltzing. From loathing fruit-scented candles to joy in a baby's giggle.

We. Have. Passion.

"passion"--n. strong and barely controllable emotion

We have passion from the small to the unfathomable--from pet-peeves to life-long beliefs. It is meant to be shared, like smiles, hugs, and scar-stories. So (accepting that God and His Word are givens and in a different category anyway), here are some of mine.

Small loves:
Yellow Roses
Sunrises
Laughter

Small hates:
Crinkled paper
Black licorice
Darkness

Serious loves:
Unity among people
Communication
Passion

Serious hates:
Arguments
Being fake
Crude humor/sarcasm

I know you have passions--loves and hates. Write them down somewhere--recognize your passions. Why? Because it reminds us how real we are and how much depth we have. It reminds us that there are things we love and cherish, that there are things to cherish--things we want to weave through our lives with thicker strands.

Passion can't be faked.
Passion can grow.
Passion is always beautiful.
Passion is real.

I pray that I act on my passions--that someday I encourage unity, I pursue communication, and I maintain and grow in my passion. And maybe someday I'll stop my arguments, avoid being fake, and preserve clean/wholesome humor.

There's Just Something About...

.
...The Sun.

A sunrise gives energy and joy at 6:30am. It makes walking in freezing weather pleasant. It sprinkles melting diamonds on barren trees. It helps me ignore my shivering fingers as I snap pictures of bits of waking Earth. I would call sunrises a "praise weakness".

No matter if I'm angry at, frustrated with, or distant from God, my soul crumbles with a sigh and sings notes equal to the praise of the perfect light gracing the horizon.

...The Weekend.

If I could fly, Warrensburg would be far behind me right now. Not because I dislike it, but because I'm so...relieved it's the weekend. I feel light. I'm not always thrilled about these classless days--they can be very lonely, they can be very long, and sometimes (because of my own wastefulness) they can be very empty. This week, I love the weekend because I have time and I need time. Time to work out some arguments with God. Time to organize my inner and outer turmoil. Time to take a deep breath.

...Music.

The chapel on campus holds two pianos. I sneak in there (even when it's locked). God unlocks it for me. He always does, because He understands that sometimes my soul needs to cry, and music is the perfect handkerchief. There is an hour and a half break between my last class and clinic--the perfect moment when the sun shouts its rays through the stained glass windows onto the piano keys I ache to touch and the wooden pews polished with heartfelt prayers. It's like a hymn from the sky.

...Answered Prayer.

Yesterday, my head lay heavy on my pillow because of the answer-less thoughts playing badminton in my brain. God and I have had multiple discussions lately, which usually consist of me talking nonstop, asking questions, jotting annoyances, and arguing about verses I don't understand. He just leans back in the spiritual rocking chair, patient and silent.
Last night, I prayed in irritation. I can't even say it was a prayer, it was more like a demand:

"Lord, I would really love to sleep well tonight."

What I mean by "sleep" is rest. Sure, I sleep every night, but rest doesn't necessarily come--it skips like a gnome on the windowsill and laughs in a squeaky voice when I try to catch it. My gnome-catching butterfly net has a hole in it. Thankfully, God's doesn't. Today, He woke me with a dose of energized dawn and a song in my head--the first thing I heard when I returned to consciousness.

"How can I stand here with You,
and not be moved by You?
Would you tell me,
How could it be any better than this?
'Cause You're all I want. You're all I need. You're everything. Everything."

I've only heard Everything by Lifehouse once in my life--I played drums to it in a worship band and thought, What an interesting song. That was about 5 years ago, yet here I was, waking rested at 6:30am with the perfect lyrics and melody slow-dancing with the sandman.

Only yesterday, I wrote out a prayer. "...could You touch my heart? Just come and touch it in a clear way?"
The request sounds quirky to anyone but me and God, but He knew what I meant. He even knew I doubted He would do it. But today...even with my exhaustion, frustration, trials, and complaining, He came through. He touched my eyes with sunrise, my mind with lyrics of praise, my fingers with stained glass, my fatigue with hopeful rest, and my heart...my heart with His arms in a glorious hug.

"Give heed to the voice of my cry, my King and my God,
For to You I will pray.
My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord;
In the morning I will direct it to You,
AND I WILL LOOK UP."

Psalm 5:2-3

I still don't have answers to my questions. I still look at Him with confusion every time we talk. But, there's just something about the way He works. The way He talks. There's just something about...

...God.
.