What You Love More Than Love

So the question of the day: What do I love more than affection?

Well the obvious answer: the Gospel.

What all this means:
I'm beginning to realize how selfish I am in my love. I love "love." My favorite songs are "love" songs. Right now my Grooveshark account songs include ones like, "If You Won't"(Jesse Harris), "What I did for Love"(Original Broadway Cast), "A Wish"(Gregory and the Hawk), "As Long as You're Mine"(Indina Menzel), "Vulnerable"(Secondhand Serenade), and "The Scientist"(Coldplay). My favorite books are Twilight. Even my style I would clasify as romanitc. I am obsessed with "love." I am most definitely a hopeless romanitc.

Why?

I'll admit I love affection. I love being loved. But right now I'm working on being content with what God has given me. If I can't be happy on my own, no man will ever make me happy. So I'm looking for what I love more than "love."

I love people. I love watching new people and trying to come up with their lives in my head. Yes, yes I know I'm "judging" people, but I'm not hating on them it's just my actress side flaring up and wanting to create people from what I see of them. I love figuring people out.

I love sound. I love making music. There's not much I can say about this except that I just love the way sound conducts emotion and thought without words. I have always loved music.

I love motion. I love dance in this way, I just love letting the free energy that's been pent up for long periods of time be conducted by this previously mentioned love of music. I love regimented motion as well, the feeling of marching and being precise. Other times I love disordered motion, when dancing just to feel the wind against your skin.

I love words. I love the hidden meanings in words. This is why I love to write. I love creating new meaning for old words and using them in new ways especially when you can more clearly express thoughts this way.

I love color. However not as much as a good artist friend of mine. I love the way God creates works of art that we mostly pass by. I love the looks of the brick here on campus contrasting the huge trees and chameleon leaves. I love the combination of sight sound and smell of the ocean. The whole of it works together to create an indescribable gift that you could sit and think on for hours and never get bored.

All these things are better than affection and more necessary, however I have to keep falling back on that promise that Christ is all I need.

At the suggestion of a friend, I'm debating going on a fast for a day, whenever I have a day that I can focus on God. On this day I would go somewhere alone and spend the entirety of the day with God and His Word. No food. Maybe some water. No music. No company. Just me and God. It's all to prove to myself that God is, in fact, more necessary than water or food or company or music or anything at all. That Christ wasn't kidding when He said that He is all you need. That His "food" is to do the Father's will. I want that to be my food and not human affection.

Because I don't need it, but humanly I want it.

But I want to want God more.

~Elyz~

Bloody Bunnies

Andrea,
When I feel I'm going to vomit a rabbit I rush to a private restroom and quitely heave over the dingy sink. It takes only a moment and makes me sweat something terrible. They usually come out struggling and covered in blood however I've no idea if it's mine or theirs. I stare off and try to steady my breath. When they finally tumble out, they sprawl into the sink and shake like a little dog. A wave of sweet exhausted relief washes over me, and I sprawl out on the equally dingy floor.

I've come to realize they don't fit down a typical toilet pipe and have resorted to carrying them with me in my trench-coat pocket. I wash them in the sink, wrap them in paper towels and place them, squirming into my wide pocket. They cause a terrible fuss all day and distract me with their constant nibbling. However they aren't tame so I'm forced to hide them as if I'm ashamed.

But I'm not...not really. They are simply nothing to be proud of. They aren't greatly beautiful or talented or even cute. But monstrous disfigured things. I don't think anyone would care for them and so I hide them all day long.

Upon arriving home I lock them away in a large box with holes in the lid along with all the other vomitted bunnies. I never feed them, in hopes that the little wretches will starve, however as soon as one dies the others eat them and so the fittest never die. Some become tolerably beautiful and so I take them out from time to time and play with them and even feed them. Some I take to show others as if they were my pets, however I have to do this very carefully because I've lost several to theft and murder.

I don't desire to stop this habit necessarily. However, I do wish I could at least vomit one which would be impressive in some way. They do nibble holes all over my pockets and I am forced to sew up the holes time and again. The whole practice has become an odd habit, however I never really seem to be confident in the process as each rabbit is so vastly different from the last. I've tried several times to use this as a talent, and perform a sort of magic with it, however I can never force one out and am therefore not able to use it to much use as a profession.

I hope this does not alter our friendship, as you've always known me to be an odd individual and never had any qualms about it. In my own defense, I'll have you know that I've known several people in my day that have stranger illnesses and they seem to be just fine people all the same.

~Elyz~

(Commentary: For those of you who have not read "A Letter to a Young Lady in Paris" by Cortazar, this is a work which I've based off my reaction to reading his short story and I in no way have begun to vomit actual rabbits. It's symbolic and half the fun of reading such a work is coming up with your own interpretaion of what it means. Which I'd love to hear about as well, haha!
For those of you who have read it, I, IN NO WAY, intend to end the story the same as he does, because my point of writing it is to show that one may "vomit bunnies" without that same unfortunate ending. That you can still live with yourself in such a case and control such "bunnies."
The end.)

Like a Knife: Secondhand Serenade

Lyrics say more than I can say and somehow still less than I feel. Pandora can read minds. I've been going back and writing some more and this is more appropriate than ever. If you were wondering, yes, I am a drama queen.

Like a Knife:
by: Secondhand Serenade

I dream a lot, I know you say
I've got to get away.
"The world is not yours for the taking"
Is all you ever say.
I know I'm not the best for you,
But promise that you'll stay.
Cause if I watch you go,
You'll see me wasting, you'll see me wasting away

Cause today, you walked out of my life
Cause today, your words felt like a knife
I'm not living this life.

Goodbyes are meant for lonely people standing in the rain
And no matter where I go it's always pouring all the same.
These streets are filled with memories
Both perfect and in pain
And all I wanna do is love you
But I'm the only one to blame.

Cause today, you walked out of my life
Cause today, your words felt like a knife
I'm not living this life.

But what do I know, if you're leaving
All you did was stop the bleeding.
But these scars will stay forever,
These scars will stay forever
And these words they have no meaning
If we cannot find the feeling
That we held on to together
Try your hardest to remember

Stay with me,
Or watch me bleed,
I need you just to breathe.

Cause today, you walked out of my life
(Stay with me, or watch me bleed)
Cause today, your words felt like a knife
(I need you just to breathe.)
I'm not living this life

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3B_4wAra5P8)

~Elyz

Sink or Swim

The thing about risks is...you have to actually be willing to lose something...

A logical thinker postulates: "Easy solution. Don't risk and you won't lose." But if you gamble nothing then you stand to gain nothing. I'm not saying if you play the game well you won't lose, everyone loses sometimes. And not necessarily everyone ever wins. But if you are a follower of Christ you've won the untarnishable everlasting reward and so you are that much more free to risk earthly things because you have something that can't be lost.

My dad started a Bible Study last night at our church based on the book Radical by David Platt. (No opinion as of yet, but I'm going to be reading it and am sure I'll have a review of it up later.) So far, Platt focuses on how Jesus doesn't ask us to play it safe. Not at all. Throughout the Bible Christ tells His followers to risk their entire lives, leave their jobs and families, and follow Him no matter what. (This should be offending you by now.) But instead we are content to live boring documentary lives?? Why, when Christ gives us this gift of an above-average miracle of a life, do we say, "No, that's really okay I'll just be a clone of everyone else. I really was looking forward to wasting my life away."?

(I get excited about this.)

“And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more!"
-Erica Jong

So starting today. I'm risking things. Because I know that if I'm persuing Christ, He won't let me fall unless I need to.

"Seek me [the Lord] and live."
Amos 5:4b

~Elyz~

Rant of the Day: Junk Classes

So I know I'm very strange but I've come to realize over the past year or so that I do actually enjoy learning. I do understand that the majority of College students do not feel the same way and are most likely in college to a)party b)meet someone to marry or c)make money. However I would like to rant today on classes which teach laziness and the acceptableness of using anything and everything to make money. Newsflash: This just in, especially if you claim to be a Christian, life is NOT about money.

I was doing my very first reading for my very first homework this semester for my Fiction Literature class which appeared to be the most professional seeming classes on my schedule thus far last night. We were to read an excerpt from The Canterbury Tales, the part with the Miller's Tale and the Reeve's Tale. So I'm innocently reading this classic literature, in fact one of the first novels written in English, and I come upon some very graphic and vulgar language which I was quite shocked to have found in such a prestigious work of so-called art. Ok so maybe it's not that big a deal for people who are "normal" I'm sure that some tv shows or songs or movies portray these types of "art" all the time. However this is me we're talking about, sheltered little Christian school me. So I got quite offended. But not completely for nothing.

My first thought was, "ok, maybe this is just a slip-up, maybe she didn't really mean for us to read this version of the text." However when I went to class today she addressed it directly and said that she knew we'd all be surprised that she would assign it to us to read, but she said that the word had been brought directly from the original text and was therefore okay. The idea is shock and awe. Chaucer takes the same approach to getting points across that I have observed Burning Coal Theatre Company takes. Do not want!

The second thing that came to mind was not only how it insulted me, but how it degraded me as a woman. If you know me, you know I am most certainly not a femenist by any means, however when you just lay things out there for all to see it makes me feel like I mean nothing. It brings back the feeling that since I am a woman I cannot go certain places and do certain things because it isn't safe, because some people treat us like we are only objects to be owned. This really bothers me because God says He loves me and that I am very important and beautiful, however when you have vulgar language like this, it really demeans me. I know that myself and other women are quite capable, but I think about my cousin Mira. She is so small and adorable, however she's grown up part of her life in a culture where it seems she has been taught that she is only good for being a wife and cooking and cleaning. This breaks my heart for her, because she is so sweet and smart and creative that she can do so much more.

The question that finally came to rest in my mind was this: "How is this funny?" Now this is rhetorical, but it really bothers me. When we spoke about it in class, the entire class laughed it off. Why? Are we really that immature? Is my professor really that immature as to stoop to that level to win the approval of her students? Is this the kind of academia that we praise so highly? I'm not impressed.

Let's aspire to something higher than that, please.

Elyz

Dear Freshmen,

Dear Freshmen Class of 2014,

How can I encourage you? This past year has been unexplainable. I hope you have already begun to feel the freedom and responsibility settling in. When I left home last year I had no idea what to expect, and so I hope to give you all a few things I wish I had heard this time last year.

1) Err on the side of being too professional. First impressions on professors are everything, if a professor thinks you are a certain stereotype they will bill you as that for the entire semester. And they will grade you as such. It's almost like food service in that the professor is always right. Use humility and tactfulness in all your dealings with them and you should make the grades you deserve.

2) Don't go home every weekend. While I love my parents I may have gone home one too many weekends. Enjoy the freedom and get used to enjoying your own company. This really has been the hardest lesson for me so far, considering I have been deathly afraid of being alone. But you will enjoy this year so much more if you can be comfortable with going to a movie or going shopping by yourself. One thing that's helped me the most is using this time to be alone with God. Which you absolutely can never have too much of. And when all else fails: Wander. I have gotten so much out of just wandering around campus talking to God and running into friends. Don't ask how, but I have.

3) Let yourself make mistakess. (I originally went back and deleted the extra s, but then that seemed hypocritical.) Trust me, you WILL make mistakes, and big ones, but if you bash yourself over the head for every single one you will be a very unhappy person. Laugh it off. If you've read my blog from the first day last year you can clearly see, this took me awhile to understand too. But what you don't know was that the first semester I made all A's and the Dean's list as well as scoring a first role in my first audition. Not to say this is of my own doing, it was all God's work and He alone deserves the glory.

That's all that comes to mind at first glance, but if you ever have any questions feel free to comment them or facebook them to me and I'll try to help. In closing, pursue God; He loves you so fiercely it'd be a shame to close without echoing what I am sure you already know. Christ loves you so much, don't take it for granted.

Have fun!
Elyz

the end of life as you know it (disclaimer: very girly)

I used to hate movies like PS: I love you and 500 days of Summer, and I never knew why. I hated that there was no happy ending like every other fairy-tale movie. I hated seeing the main characters going through hard times and it wasn't until recently that I discovered that this was because I'm paranoid. Not in the creepy mental-case way, but in a way that I think we all are for awhile. We've been so conditioned to think that life is one simple story. Girl is born, grows up in a happy family with 2.5 siblings, meets one boy who changes her life and is absolutely perfect, never wants anything else in life, gets married and lives (you guessed it) happily ever after. Occasionaly Hollywood thinks it's clever and adds in a girl who finds this happiness in a job or epic journey instead however it fits the mold pretty acurately.

So what happens? The first time you truely believe you've found that "happily ever after" and it turns out that it's not, then what? It reminds me of that illustration about the teabag and the carrot. When placed in hot water a teabag will change its surroundings making them sweeter and completely altering the end product. The carrot, however, is filled with the hot water and turns limp and weak changing almost nothing about the hot water. When we choose to start again, fresh, with hope and a God who is strong enough to make us sweeter through the hard times we can really grow, not only in the Lord but also as a person. It frees us to a completely wide open future which is so completely in God's control that we don't HAVE to worry about the finer details.

However, we can always shrivel back up if we're not careful. Self-pity is a huge temptation and leads quickly to this selfish lonely choice. I heard a challange once that whenever you're feeling bad for yourself the best remedy is to go help someone else, while not mentioning at all your problems. I pass that challange on to you, because it really does take your mind off your troubles and encourages you because you are being a blessing in someone else's life.

I've discovered something important lately. Life isn't just one simple story, it's made up of many interlacing complex threads of good and bad times which leads to one glorious finale. While there is a happily ever after, it has absolutely nothing to do with us finding fulfillment in the things of this world. I told Christ this morning that I wanted to spend today with Him, that I wanted today to be about me and Him and He showed up in full force. I would encourage you, He wants to spend time with you, and I promise it won't be boring. Everyday has new lessons and blessings to learn. Him who has ears let him hear. I've been saying that a lot lately but it's so true for myself as well.

God is NOT a tame God. If you ask Him to, He will bring you to the end of life as you know it and into a life that is far beyond what you thought to ask for.

Psalms 126:5-6

~Elyz~