Overflow

If I tried to give of myself, you wouldn't like what I'd have to offer. If the cards I put on the table belonged to me, I'd quickly lose. And I know this. I know that I have nothing to offer anyone. And yet, I try to find something of me to present to others, and I come up short every time. I pour out all of me and am turned away, being found to be not good enough, not quite what they were looking for, and completely empty. And I ask, "when will I ever be enough?" But I won't, I won't ever be enough. Anything I have will never be enough. I'm looking to myself as the source of satisfaction, the source of wholeness and fulfillment. Oh how I fail! I am so far, so unimaginably far from being able to sustain myself-- to, in my own person, keep myself satisfied. If I thought I was close to being able to do that, I would probably work for it, I would just kill myself to get there, to achieve a sort of divination. But I know I am hopeless. So I turn to the only hope I have, the one that used to fill me, and I let it fill me again. It renews me, it pours into me, replaces what I handed to others and what was turned down. I give of that, I present what I've been given. Surprise, surprise, what I give away, he replenishes. I am satisfies once more. Some accept what I give, others reject it. But I know that I am filled again, and so I do not wait to be satisfied by them. I do not hope that they will give of themselves when I've given of myself. He gave of Himself so that I might be able to give of myself to them. So I give, I give, and I don't wait to be given to. I am filled by Him. He is my source. And so I give and I let them receive. I expect nothing in return. I find unexpected joy in their giving of themselves. Of course, I now am being filled by my eternal source, and what they give simply pours over, and what a blessing overflow is! I am receiving, I am giving, and grace flows through me, love passes through me; and I remember that it is not my own. And so what I give is simply the overflow of the Giver Himself. I am no perfect giver, I sometimes reject the source, I seem to think I've become a source myself. I am never a source. I am simply a vessel. And as a vessel, I am not in charge of myself. A vessel is supposed to be possessed and used by someone else. I rather not be in charge of my life, I like depending on someone who knows better.

Airhead

I keep wondering, why is life so dandy right now? I'm getting closer to 8 hours of sleep than usual --every night, I'm going to all my classes, keeping up with friends, and having a blast doing it. I'm feeling a little less tired than usual and I've stopped drinking coffee by the pint (not going to lie, the first two days my coffee was replaced with migraines). My days are literally packed from the time I step out of my dorm till the moment my head hits the pillow. I get 30 min-1 hr breaks between a few classes or events/commitments, but honestly, I cannot buckle down in that amount to time to really do anything productive with my life, so I fill that time with the socializing, the keeping up with friends. That way I get little doses of friendship between the crazy, and I get to sleep soundly at night. And yet, when I crash at night, I don't feel drained or needy. I feel accomplished, I feel energized, I feel happy, and it feels like nothings is going to knock me down. I don't mean for that to sound like an "I'm invincible" kind of thing, but just that life is good right now, and the crap people are pulling around me is not going to mess with it. I feel comfortable. Comfortable. At ease.. comfortable. And then that word becomes uncomfortable. "Comfortable." Ehm, I don't know if I like the sound of it. Maybe I'll try something else, like "at peace with life," yeah. I can dig that.. but now that's uncomfortable. Why am I so comfortable?

Why am I comfortable right now? Why do I get to be comfortable? Why does that word feel so wrong? Maybe because I shouldn't be comfortable? But.. I mean, if I CAN be comfortable, why not? If I can juggle this life right now, why not? At the end of the day, I've let things slide, I've laughed, I've enjoyed my time, and I've made the best of my name-- I sure have made myself feel great. It's so easy.. it's so natural. Why would that be wrong? It's what I seem to do by instinct. At least.. it sings a louder song, and fills my ears with the beautiful lyrics "me.. happy happy me, wouldn't that be great.. for me?" It catches my attention, but something tugs lightly at my mind. "Him.. them... her.." but I've already decided the sounds of "me" are sounds sharper and stronger. So, I go for the song. I go for the easy, and I enjoy it, OH do I enjoy it! I love every minute of it, why wouldn't I? And soon enough the song in my head pours out of my mouth as well. "Me, oh me, did you just say me? I love me, don't you?" Or at least that's what echoes through my ears. And I'm disgusted, but it's so easy. It's so addictive. And I can't seem to stop.. is that right? People don't want to hear that though, but I try to yank them back. And some smile politely, some might even think I'm not blabbing about myself, but I know what this is about. I've decided that I matter more. I matter more than the people giving me crap, I matter more than whatever crap they're dealing with, I matter more than the name I've proclaimed, I matter more than you. And so I keep talking. I keep taking, and I take and take. Did I get tired of giving?

A leech. I guess that's what I'd call my "comfortable." I'm sucking from everything and everyone. I'm not giving anything.. to anyone. I've decided I matter too much, why give to the people pissing me off when I can just drop them and take from the people feeding my pride? So I decide that I'm in control of what I give and what I take. I've shut down all outward action--except for my mouth of course-- and I've upped the levels of intake. I've decided I don't need anything else. Me. Yeah, that sounds nice. I've got my friends-- the ones that make me look good, and the rest is under control. I can surround myself with all sorts of people and things that will huff and puff till my head's full, and I disregard anything or anyone that would need something from me-- anything that I have to work for. But I'm comfortable.

So maybe I rather be uncomfortable. Or maybe I know that this "comfortable" I feel right now is taking a bad toll on me. It's slowly getting its dirty claws on my heart, on my soul. He fought too long and bled too much for me to give in. So I have to fight this uncomfortable. I guess I'll start the fight. I'll fight the "me" ringing loud, I'll pay attention for the "Him.. them.. her" that leaves its faint echos. I'll lay down my crown made of plastic shiny crap that I bought at Hobby Lobby and I'll shut my mouth. I'll ask them about them. I'll try to fix what I've shattered. I will try to deal with the crap, to get to the person. I'll put aside my empty stories and listen for their stories. I'll minimize my mouth and max out my ears. Or at least that's the plan.. the theory for now.

I'll stop doing every thing in my day for me. It's about time I take part in things for the sake of others. It's about time I don't look at a picture of a starving child and go "oh, that's unfortunate.. listen to how I fed a starving child!" and I'll actually put my hand to the plow to do more than I talk about. It's about time I think of others not in relation to me, but to Him and to them.

And sometimes we get fed up and won't play along. And sometimes.. I won't fight.

"In God We Trust"

Though some people may call The United States a "Christian Nation," it is far from being a nation based on Christian principle and faith. If anything, the easiest way to function in this country is to be lax about your religion, and faith will clash with the "freedom" of these people. I guess it's good we don't hold to religious standards that aren't met by faith, but I'm used to living in a much more religious country-- not so much filled with God-fearing men and women of faith, but a country that has a holiday every few weeks for the sake of Saint someone or Mary Virgin of someplace. All I'm trying to say is that Colombia is flooded with the Catholic religion-- and this is reflected in the holidays. I'm used to a Spring Break that is more often referred to as Holy Week, because we get that week off from school the week between Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. The week is more sacred for people, even if only for the sake of religion, but it helps Christians take the week more seriously. It's hard to step back and take the time to take in Christ's sacrifice as we inhale and remember his risen body with every exhalation. With the kind of week I've had, it was hard to crunch out those minutes to be able to really meditate, soak it in, and reflect. But when I did, when I just wrote, read, and thought, I was so humbled, so convicted, so broken, and so thankful. We've learned all about crucifixion in New Testament Survey and I couldn't watch that church Easter play in the same light tonight. We downplay or try to brush past the pain of Christ's suffering. We break it down to flogging, carrying a heavy cross, and the piercing of his hands. As the man playing Christ walked down the aisle with fake cuts and blood as he carried the cross and a Roman soldier beat him on, I noticed some people watched intently, others glanced and looked away, as if hoping that he would hurry up and be crucified already so they wouldn't have to watch anymore of it. I found myself thinking "this is kind of awkward.. are we supposed to just watch him.. or..?" Then I remembered, Jesus went through a lot worse than this, and I felt awkward.. good job, Sierra, you're shallow.

What I came to write about was Holy Week-- how this time last year I had just gotten back from one of the most amazing weeks of my life. This year? I am currently trying to repress this week into my subconscious, from which it will never emerge again. It's honestly a blur, one that I only want to get blurrier. Back to last year. I miss it, I miss it terribly. I miss the faces, I miss the songs, I miss the languages, I miss the river. My little brother got back yesterday from the trip I went on last year to the Amazon. Lilia put up pictures and wrote on my wall that the kids were asking about me.. by name. We were there for 8 days, providing medical care for a few Ticuna villages. Of course, I had nothing to do with the medical stuff, I just played with the kids and painted. I was especially touched in the third village, 2 de Mayo. By the end of our few days there I had accumulated a little gang of boys, ranging from about 6 years old to probably 10. They were my body guards, my buddies, my tree monkeys. I remember the first time I met them was when I was painting bible verses on the outside of houses and a couple of them started following me from house to house. They didn't say a word the entire time, I'm not even sure many of them spoke Spanish. But they stuck by my side, and I put them in charge of designing something to go along with the verses. I gave them each a brush a let them help. Soon enough it started raining and we joined Ruben in the river, playing and wrestling. When everyone went into the jungle on a little hike and we stopped at a fruit tree at the end of the trail, they had filled a huge tree and were throwing the fruit down at me, filling every one of my pockets and theirs with snacks. They ran along the trail, winding in and out of the yuca plants, playing tag, making quick appearances every few minutes as we all walked back. I loved those boys, and I miss them. They taught me how to count all the way up to 4 in Tikuna and they had a great time with my name.. "Sierra, cierra la puerta!!" I love that Lilia and Leo and my brother and the whole rest of whoever went got to see them and play with them, but I wish I could have. I wish I could bring back more t-shirts covered in paintings and hand prints.

On to other things I miss. Friends. Or better said, specific friends. I know people change, but some people just seem to get shadier.. at least the people they are with and places they go. I miss hanging out the way we used to. How we could spend hours doing nothing.. at least it wasn't quite as shady. So I get tired of shady, and I stop coming around. But there are other people involved, and I miss out on them too. The less shady, that is. We all notice that we haven't seen each other in so long, and we all miss it, we all want it back. People started thinking I got shadier, and maybe I did, maybe my life had become slightly questionable-- or at least from the outside. And I wanted to reassure them that I'm the same person, but I might have risked too much by not trusting that they trusted me. I am no circus performer, my balance is all too flawed. I think I had that balance for a few weeks.. but I got tired of shady, I got tired that it was always shady, that it couldn't move from there. So the group I had once neglected, I embraced, and so neglected what I had embraced all too easily at one point. I've been told that I'm really good at making friends. And yes, I think I can admit I'm a people person, but the problem comes when I make friends with people on both ends of the spectrum. I mean, I really do love it, it's diverse, and we know I'm ALL about that diversity stuff! But there's no middle. These different groups never seem to overlap, unless I'm pulling one into the other.. very forcefully. It's tiring, going back and forth. Trying to involve them. It's tiring when I want so badly to pour all of myself into all of the groups, all the while trying to be a responsible student (if you know me well, you know my efforts aren't significant). Some give back so much, and others, though they say they miss me when I'm gone, don't seem to enjoy me too much when I'm around. I carry too much baggage from the other groups, too much "shadiness" let's say. Everyone else in the group is completely giving to the group, but I can't, and I'm not sure some of them are okay with that. I'm afraid what I can give them, if I want to maintain some of the other groups, isn't enough. So I've been trying to give more, but I'm feeling it everywhere else. And so it's all thrown off balance.