It's personal, but I have nothing to hide.

Ben and I have essentially decided to go to Grace Center Church in Franklin, where James and Abby are the Sr. High Pastors. We individually felt God wanted us there, and we confirmed the feeling yesterday.
I now look forward to going to Monday night young adults fellowship, "Emanate," led by Allyn and A.J. Jones.
It's hard to imagine myself in high school, going to Evangelical Christian School and Riveroaks Reformed Presbyterian Church, ever attending, ever wanting to attend, a church as "charismatic" as Grace Center: teaching about "The Anointing," healing the sick, getting "words of knowledge," raising my hands in worship, etc.
Really? Am I really "that" girl now? (or at least becoming "that" girl?) I see now that these things are hardly a choice; they come when your idea of the Holy Spirit changes, when you understand that he really does dwell in you, speaks to you, gives you overwhelming feelings of joy and grace. Not that he didn't before, I just didn't receive it the same way.
I would never change my highly indoctrinated younger years (part of me really misses it) but the gradual change from that "me" to the "me" that actually believes the Holy Spirit heals people everyday through those in whom he dwells, is an amazing growth.
It makes me so excited that I want to tell all the Christians I know, get them in the same mindset (thought I know not everyone is destined to think exactly as I do, thank goodness) because I see what an incredible transformation that could take place within the Christian community; what a change we could bring to America's idea of Christianity.
And it makes me more excited to share Jesus with nonbelievers. I just have a different take on it now than I have before. I actually feel more confident in telling people, more directly filled with joy and enthusiasm when it comes to exclaiming the greatness of God. (It's great when you can tell someone how great something is and not have a ping in the back of your mind, asking you if you really believe that).
I still take what's thrown at me with a grain of salt, but I know that the Holy Spirit has so much more for us than we could ever know or understand.
Last night as I lay in bed, waiting to fall asleep, I felt a joy and peace that I don't know if I've ever felt about the Trinity.
I found myself smiling and wanting to jump out of bed in worship or in proclamation of Jesus to everyone I know.
The power of words and the reality of spiritual warfare seems more alive to me than ever before. I've felt the depths of the dark side of the spiritual world, heavy on my body and mind, but I now see more brightly than ever the side of light.
Jesus' name is power, and the angels are probably baffled at our indifference and apathy.

HAIKUS created while chatting with Mark 3 years ago.

cold fingers take rest
on my shoulder while i sleep
angel or demon



slight twist of the wrist
brings the happiest of things
be a skipping rock



the sun on my back
soaks into my pale white flesh
burns me through and through



if i were a leaf
i would land on your back porch
crushed beneath your feet

let's pretend

i like to pretend like i know what i'm doing.
i like to pretend like i'm busy, like the world will pause for me.
i like to pretend like anything i do matters.
i like to pretend that my life has meaning.

But most of all, i like to pretend like i'm pretending that this is all for nothing.

Because not matter how hard i smash him down, the Holy Spirit always manages to get his word in.
Shouting, though i usually hear it as a whisper, that it's not a lie, that the plans he has for me are great, that he will give me the desires of my heart, that i must wait on the Lord, that i must rest in him, be still and know him.

i can't shut him out, not this time.

tsunami mind

deeper than the pain of death
is the heart's breadth.

wider than a whale's jaw
is the reach of a racing mind's paw.

seven miles above the earth
aliens, hung up above, hover.

backwoods' ignorance is such
that a flood would not touch.

the wolf preys at night,
he has your children by the throat.

tighter than a vice's grip
is he making you slip.

quicker than a grandfather's life
do you tumble without advice.

the undercurrent has you by the toe
the only way to go is down.

i hope your door is painted red.

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/bloggers/2271155/posts

Bound for Glory

--More from Woody. Chapter XII, "Trouble Busting:"

(Leading up to this excerpt, Woody was having people of all kinds come to see him at his shack, because he had the recent reputation of giving good advice, or rather fortune-telling. Many called him a prophet and paid him up to one whole dollar for a visit; but Woody just saw it as talking, and he told them he never claimed to be no prophet or nothin' fancy.
I think it's such a ridiculous and humorous situation, but strangely profound.)

One day a whole crowd of ten or twenty oil field workers and farmers came to see him. As he said, "All kinds of cars were parked around my little old shack. People lost. People sick. People wondering. People hungry. People wanting work. People trying to get together and do something."
Anyway, the leader of the group asks Woody:

' What do you think about this feller, Hitler and Mussolini? Are they out to kill off all of the Jews an' [n-word]? '
I told them, 'Hitler an' Mussolini is out to make a chaingang slave outta you, outta me, an' outta ever'body else! An' kill ever'body that gits in their road! Try ta make us hate each other on accounta what Goddam color our skin is! Bible says ta love yer neighbor! Don't say any certain color! '

[...the men respond] ' This old world's in a bad condition! Comin' to a mighty bad end!'

'Mebbe th' old one is, ' I yelled at the whole bunch, ' but a new one's in th' mail! '

[...] ' Men! Hey! Listen! I know we all see this same thing--like news reels in our mind. Alla th' work that needs ta be done--better highways, better buildin's, better houses. Ever'thing needs ta be fixed up better! But, Goddamit, I ain't no master mind! All I know is we gotta git together an' stick together! This country won't ever git much better as long as it's dog eat dog, ever' man fer his own self, an' ta hell with th' rest of th' world. We gotta all git together, dam it all, an' make somebody give us a job somewhere doin' something'!' "

But the whole crowd walked off down toward Main Street, laughing and talking and throwing their hands. I leaned back up against the side of the shack and watched the gravel and dust cutting down the last of the hollyhocks.

'News reels in my head,' I was looking and thinking to myself. [...] 'News reels in my head. By God, mebbe we all gotta learn how ta see them there news reels in our heads. Mebbe so.'

This land was his land.

Reading Woody Guthrie's autobiography, Bound for Glory. I would love to give a proper introduction, but I really don't know what to say. I think it speaks for itself. But I will say he amazes me. I wish I could be as real as he was.
His words from Chapter XI, "Boy in Search of Something:"

A picture--you buy it once, and it bothers you for forty years; but with a song, you sing it out, and it soaks in people's ears and they all jump up and down and sing it with you, and then when you quit singing it, it's gone, and you get a job singing it again. On top of that, you can sing out what you think. You can tell tales of all kinds to put your idea across to the other fellow.

And there on the Texas plains right in the dead center of the dust bowl, with the oil boom over and the wheat blowed out and the hard-working people just stumbling about, bothered with mortgages, debts, bills, sickness, worries of every blowing kind, I seen there was plenty to make up songs about.

Some people liked me, hated me, walked with me, walked over me, jeered me, cheered me, rooted me and hooted me, and before long I was invited in and booted out of every public place of entertainment in that country. But I decided that songs was a music and a language of all tongues.

I never did make up many songs about the cow trails or the moon skipping through the sky, but at first it was funny songs of what all's wrong, and how it turned out good or bad. Then I got a little braver and made up songs telling what I thought was wrong and how to make it right, songs that said what everybody in that country was thinking.

And this has held me ever since.

-Woody Guthrie