Rivers and roads, rivers till I reach you

Moving on isn't so much about closing the doors in your heart. It's about opening them, and letting the air circulate freely together - the old and the new, the past and the present, the painful and the hopeful, the sad and the happy.
I don't want my heart to be  closets and corners. I want it to be open halls and rooms.

He makes me new, He is making me new.

I know that Christianity isn't about "becoming who you want/need to be," it's only about Jesus. But part of the freedom we have with Him is being able to have a person to be. As long as it doesn't conflict with His perfect laws, we can be however we want to be.

Live every day like you have a purpose. Because you do.

It's better to go to sleep on an empty stomache with the knowledge that there'll be breakfast in the morning than to go to sleep full not knowing when the next meal will be.

On the wings of winter

To say that the last few months of my life have been devoid of inspiration would be an understatement.

I put down my camera around February and have barely touched it up until recently. I've been using my mom's old Minolta 35mm, though, and I have been pretty pleased with it. But the bond with my camera, and, more importantly, photography, has been pretty much severed.

I'm not typically one who talks about "inspiration" or losing and gaining it. I kind of thought of hobbies, talent, and passion as three separate things. Any photographic skills I posses have nothing to do with passion or "expressing" myself. Or, that's what I used to think.

I've been trying to re-build my relationship with my passions and hobbies. I did a photoshoot for a family on Sunday, and it went really well. I've been lugging my camera around everywhere with me again. I've been seeing moments as photographs again.

I've even been playing music again. I never really stopped playing my cello, though, admittedly it was mostly out of guilt knowing my parents are paying a monthly bill for me to keep it.

I found the sheet music to one of my soul songs a few days ago, and I've been working on it with the piano. It's difficult; it will take me a long time to master. The point is, I'm motivated to play it. I long for those notes to come out of my fingers, not just into my ears.

I've been wanting to paint very badly, as well. I haven't really had time to, but the important thing is that I want to. I want to create, even if to other people (and usually to myself as well), it's just blobs of pain on a canvas.

It's like I'm crawling back to an ex or something. I feel like I'm asking forgiveness from music, art, and books. Forgiveness for leaving; forgiveness for closing myself off emotionally from even them. I know I sound crazy. But I have a relationship with these things.

It's such a sweet release. Putting my finger to the trigger of my camera, having the knowledge that I know all it's nooks and crannies - I know it better than I know myself, it seems. It's an old part of my soul that, for some reason, I let go of several months back.

I feel as though having these things in my life restores some sort of normalcy. As I'm coming to re-know myself (another thing I don't usually believe in - the idea of 'knowing' or 'finding' oneself), I'm allowing these things to be in my life again.

I haven't come so far as to write music anymore. I don't know if I ever will again. But it's slowly seeping back into my soul, on the wings of winter, it seems. The blood of strangers that's been flowing in my veins for awhile now is being replaced with my own blood - the familiar warmth of myself.

Faith is the process of unlearning your irrational fears

How do we, as humans, find happiness? I understand that as Christians, joy comes from the Lord. But we still live life. Do we find happiness in being busy or social? Or is that because we've unlearned how to sit still?

I guess I'm just confused about life and living in general right now. I'm having that panic attack about having never felt true happiness before...sometimes I still feel broken. Sometimes I really just want to cry and drink coffee - like right now.

But what I really want is to be done with this world. What I really want is to see my mom and dad stop hurting, for my siblings to stop lying and cheating themselves, and to be forever in a place where complexes don't exist. What I really want is to be home.

"42, please. 42."...."last call for 42."

I hate days like this so much...I can't wait for winter and winter clothes and cold days. And long nights and movies. Except I might be in Africa! Haha, I hadn't even thought of that. I'd take Africa over Christmas any day. A year of summer...hm.

"Though I sit here in darkness, the Lord, the Lord alone, He will be my light."