reflect

reflections.  i've been thinking deep thoughts and stereo-typically much of it was in the shower.  deep thoughts and reflection--that's the type 4 in me.  having a billion thoughts at once interrupting each other and ten thoughts diving off the diving board of another thought and spiraling into many thoughts--that's the type one in me.

 i don't know if i can remember it all, and even if i could i made a turban out of my black long sleeved t-shirt that looks like it could be made out of lego.  there is no explaining this.  this is just something that is.

it's been strange days.  this morning the sky was smokey and the sun was reddish orange like that other time forest fire smoke wafted into our skies and i just so happened to be trying to take a family photo of the kyrah clarktton family in victoria and they all had this super weird light and all the yellows were neon.  it's just weird.  you know it aint right.

days at work have been weird without paskee and lindzee.  lil' brit is helping us out, and days go by full of hard work and heat and sweaty bodies.  sometimes ann, who is prone to lay a hand on me, does so, and her hand is burning hot and i have to say again "ann, for the hundredth time, don't touch me with your burning hot hand!"

i'm starting to force myself to think about all our stuff--what we'll keep and what we don't need and what has been dead weight for over 13 years.  sometimes it's hard to know.  other times it's easy.  like that 70s warming plate that i've never laid eyes on?  we can do without that.

i went to bed at a relatively good time yesterday and but i woke up with a start at 2am.  i felt the sting of an acute itch on my left wrist.  then i began to feel itches everywhere and my mind was instantly alert.  on hot nights i'm pretty exposed to mosquitoes.  i wear nothing but what i have to if you know what i mean, and i only pull a sheet over myself in the early morning hours when the air cools.  the thought of a mosquitoes sucking my blood, boils said blood.  i had to get up and douse my body in bug spray.  i have some aerosol bug sprays and i've decided that i'm very against aerosol bug sprays.  you breath in most of what is sprayed out and so you poison your insides and your outsides at the same time.

then i couldn't fall asleep until after 3am.  then i lagged in getting up.

one of the things i was thinking about in the shower is how my feet are the dirtiest i have ever seen.  and i don't really care.  i mean i do try to clean them in the shower but at the same time i don't feel revulsion or shame about it.  it's just what happens when feet like mine spend all day working in flipflops.  and there's no shame in getting dirty when you work.  and my hair and feet reveal to the world my raggamuffin ways.  i am what i am.

that wasn't the deep thought though.  that was just a surface thought.  one of the other things i was thinking about was that of all the temptations that come to me on a daily, the most common and amongst the strongest is just the temptation not to pray.  to put it off.  to do it another day.  to do it later.  to just sleep this time.  i'm feeling this resistance all the time.  and it's a pull to wander from God.  not to do anything bad, just to wander from his presence, to distance myself in our relationship.  to wander life's paths on my own for a bit.  i was thinking about this urge, this temptation that i find myself continually grappling with.  there are some times when prayer is the first thing i want to do.  if i'm feeling the spirit, if i'm feeling grateful, if i'm worried about someone, if i feel a need for divine help, comfort, guidance or intervention.  but that's just the thing.  i always need it.  and a close relationship with Heavenly Father, a daily walking, talking and sharing with him, the ability to do that, the fact i know how, the fact that he's available--that's the beginning of everything.  that's the source of strength, resilience, inspiration, faith, diligence--it's everything.  so i know that there is a reason i feel such a great resistance to prayer sometimes.  and i purposely resist the resisting.  even if i'm tired, or feel unworthy, or mad, or sad, or bored, or dead inside, or lonely, or crazy, or lost or uninspired--there is no perfect time to pray--or i should say, they are all perfect times to pray.  there is no perfect mind set to wait for. all of the mind sets are right.  because i need God in every moment.  and there is no moment that won't be made better if i share it with him.  and my reaching for him can be imperfect.  maybe my prayer is a dud in all ways that people might judge it.  maybe my mind is dumb of the right thing to say to him.  maybe i'm not eloquent or lyrical.   that's just dumb.  as if God needs that.  God will literally take anything i can give him from my imperfect mortal self and accept it.  if i feel angry and even jealous or evil or prideful, or just wrong hearted in anyway and can't utter the most worshipful and holy words but manage to talk to him and tell him what i am going through and ask for his help and a way out or just even a softening of my own heart.  i have faith that God accepts that.  God will work with that.  and doing that is infinitely better than not praying.  so i fight to make myself pray especially when i don't want to.  and i have faith that Heavenly Father will make even that willing--unwilling prayer into something good for me.  he hears me in all my extremities and in all my depths and heights and in all my medium ho hums.  and he answers my prayers.  always.  he has answered me innumerable times.  it so often surprises me how generously he answers my prayers. because here's the thing.  i'm not holy.  i'm not great or super good.  i struggle all the time.  and i am always repenting and failing and repenting again.  i mean it.  i am not a pure worthy vessel of the Lord like i would like to be.  i have faith and hope that one day i can overcome this wretched mortal weaknesses and offensive bits of soul hanging on to the gold inner me.  i have faith that Christ can create lasting change in me.  but i'm not always the best at partnering with him.  i know prayer is key.  but my point is, even as a moldy stinking wreaking heap of a blackened mortal creepo that i feel like some days, the moment my heart and soul reaches out to my Father in Heaven in any capacity, even a lameo try, even a try hampered thoroughly by the weight of my fleshy mortality--that's all he needs.  he needs me to chose him, and i chose him and use faith any time i pray to him, that's all he needs to answer me, to be there for me, to send me help and light and inspiration and voices of wisdom and learning and comfort and everything i need and have the capacity to accept and see and understand from him.  he is that kind.  he is that merciful.  he is that consistent in his love.  he is that patient.  and he sees me.  he sees the mold and the dark and he sees the golden core.   he doesn't balk from the festering wounds and worm eaten neglect and stinky black and bleak.  that stuff doesn't bug him at all, if a child of his is turning to him, and chosing him, you, and by you, i mean i, better believe he is not deterred by that filth one bit.  he knows that he can heal that.  he knows that he can cure that.  he knows that he can purify that.  he knows that he can shine me all up and make me new.  and he gets to work on that every time i chose to let him into my life, my soul my terribly messy and messed up mortality.  the power of love is greater than any other power that exists.  God is love.  Jesus is love personified (God personified).  i am his mission.  we all are.

and i think we so often make the mistake of attributing mortal emotions and reactions to God.  taking our own fears and feelings of  guilt or worthlessness or whatever it is that's negative.  maybe we can't see how God would be patient or forgiving or gentle because we personally can't feel that way about ourselves or someone else.  but God isn't limited like we are.  he is perfect.  and perfection isn't cold and accusatory.  it's not impatient and uppity.  perfection is the warmest purest sweetest love.  and yes it's true that God can't and doesn't accept sin but that's what his whole plan is about.  helping us to overcome and perfect and come back into his presence joyfully not because we are so great, but because we chose him, and we had faith in Jesus Christ and put our trust and faith in his atonement and used it.  and every time we fail we tried again and again.  and every time we repent he forgives us.  because he loves us.  and this is his plan.  his love is real.  it's not just a word.  it means something.  it means everything.  and whatever messages we receive that steer us away from him are just not true.  like it's too late, or i've gone too far.  or i'm hopeless.  or i can't change.  or he doesn't hear or see or know me.  or i'm not good enough.  or whatever it may be.  it's just not true.  he'll take us exactly how we are and at whatever level or spot we're at and our progress may take infinity.  he doesn't care.  he'll go at our pace.  he'll walk at our side.  he'll hold our hand.  if there is one thing i do know it's that God is real.  and he really is our father.  and he really does love us.  and there's lots i don't fathom.  but i do know that.  because he's shown me.  and i'm sorry i'm wanderer.  and i'm sorry i live beneath my privilege so often.  but i have hope that i'll get better and overcome the more i turn to him.  and that just act of turning to him in prayer is a step towards all that i lack and i refuse to let go of that.  thank God for  prayer.  i do.

well that was one of my deep thoughts.  and that's my testimony.  thanks for being here with me, i appreciate you.  i know readership is few and far between but i feel like i want to write anyways.  because first of all it's good for me.  and second of all i think of you all when i write even if you don't come here to read, especially my sisters,(including sisters in law) my friends, and my mom.  i'm writing to you, and i'm writing to me.