Tag Archives: memory

Re.Make.

Posted on
11

I’m getting itchy. Restless. Wandering. Listening. Questioning. Wondering. Waiting.

This kind of inner stillness is rare, and it always catches my attention–with its certainty.

and rush.

and standing.

I wonder how long it’ll last–but it won’t be long enough. There is little time. The moment will soon fade into the past.

In this moment I want to remake. I want to get out there and find the person I want to be. And I want to internalize all that she is, until I am she.

And I want the sound of my voice to sound like my own best friend, not my worst enemy.

I want to hear truth. I want to hear the things I want to want to say come out of my very own mouth.

I want the mirror to match my memory.

I want to be her.

Again.

Instead, I am poor.

A year to forget…

Posted on
60

I know a lot of you have faced tough situations this year; so have a lot of my friends, family members, and church family. The phone calls, faces, hospital visits, letters, and questions are rolling through my mind as I type this. You know who you are and you’re on my mind.

This year, for many, has been a nightmare and a lot of us are ready for this round to be over. So, this post is for you: For those of you who don’t think you can take one more blow this year. For those of you who have been to hell and back and live to tell about it. Who have dealt with loss. With confusion. With anger. With disappointment. For those of you who see 2010 as a year to forget. For those of you who know 2011 has got to be better than 2010.

This is your time to think about it. To hope about it. To maybe even offer up a typed prayer to the heavens for a better year ahead. For some of you, it wouldn’t take much. It wouldn’t take much at all to spark a tiny flame of hope in your heart… What could light that flame? What’s something you can hold on to–some tiny piece of hope–that would assure you that 2011 is better than 2010?

Type it out here. And I promise you that this little blog community will be praying that our God of Grace reaches down to give exactly what you’re asking for.

Only One: Friend

Posted on
32

5 years have passed since the memory wipe-out, and the first year was difficult, but you’ve adjusted. you only have to visit your therapist 4 times a year now.

unfortunately, you lost all of your significant relationships. but, considering that you were an ex-con, there weren’t many people still around in your life (sorry, its my blog – i can say that if i wanna! ha ha).

you’re walking down the street, heading for the corner coffee shop. and you see someone. you immediately feel a sense of recognition. a sense of connection. a sense of familiarity.

and this person smiles. smiles as if they know you.

so you stop. maybe they DO know you – the you that you once were. then, you have a rush of loneliness mixed with the emotions of homecoming… it’s as if your soul wants to remember, but there’s nothing left to find. it’s as if your soul instinctively knows how significant this person was to you. the shared experiences. the talks. the laughs. the memories. bu the memories are gone.

this person has stopped as well – just looking back at you as if waiting for something – expecting something. so, apologetically, you introduce yourself.

they smile and say “i know. i heard what happened. i’m your friend ____________________. we used to__________________”

ok. you fill in the details. who are they?