Who reads poems these days?!?!

Everyone wants to be a poet, but not many want to read it. 

I think it can be pretty demanding to read poetry because some poems I can just let wash over me but others I have to decipher. 

I think poetry really is a lost art form.  It's so great to write because you can harness all your thoughts and compact them into an intricate bomb that once ignited can explode in peoples' hearts. 

I am most prolific in my poetry when a) I have time to actually write and b) I have strong emotions or visions that I can't shake.  It's been years since I've written something remotely poetic, other than lyrics for a song, until last Saturday when I was at a prayer meeting and felt moved to write some things down.  And here is a portion of that:

I swallowed this seed 

and it's growing, growing,

ever knowing and more than me.

Like a kingdom tree.

My branches sprawl across the cities;

shade for the weary,

wind songs full of melodies.

A forest surrounds me.

All our roots cradling 

and leaves dangling 

but no one sees.

Hardly anyone sees.

We hear the river,

and its rushing waters 

is like a voice that rallies,

sustaining the fibers

of these sons and daughters.

These former seeds.

Til we meet the jagged clouds and 

fulfill our reveries.

That's all I got.  For now. 

The Standard of Me.

I've heard before that we could be our own harshest judge, and I think for me that is totally true.  I've begun an inward journey that includes investigating how many standards I set up through the day, expectations that I need to meet, and how often I fail.  The data is not favorable, and as a result I am anxious that I am failing as a human being.

I realized this past weekend that I do not have an overarching joy permeating into my daily life.  That is because I am constantly in threat of failure.  I'm speaking vaguely but of course I will get more specific.

When I was in high school, I had these expectations for myself that I often met or exceeded.  I had a false sense of security, and happiness.  My reasoning went, "As long as I do A, B, and C, I will feel complete."  Think of how easily this reasoning can crumble with the weight of life resting on top of it.  My senior year I went to take an AP Biology exam to earn college credit, and immediately after the test I convinced myself I had failed, and I was undone.  Hysterical.  I spent so much time fretting over the score I would receive.  It wasn't a matter of "I did my best, and it is what it is."  I couldn't accept that for the life of me.  

It turns out I scored a 5 on it, the highest mark you could receive.  (And guess what?  Jesus' words of wisdom to not worry because it doesn't add ONE hour to your life rang a bit more true.)  I probably illogically reasoned that my worrying helped me get that score.

I have these 'standards' and 'expectations' in my daily life, and it doesn't take much to make me come undone.  I was too harsh with Mercy today.  The house isn't clean enough, what would my parents say if they came over?  I didn't work out and am failing in keeping my body in shape. I'm not consistent with my blog, or any writing or reading or studying.  I forgot to pay these bills today. These things become my focus, my life, and in the meantime, I miss out on living life because I am consumed with not measuring up.  It becomes this black and white issue to me, whereas I think other people are able to shrug it off.

So like I said, I am compiling this data about how I am succeeding in 'failing' by my own measure. And because I have OCD, I tend to 'spin' (as my therapist calls it) on these thoughts like no one else.

My biggest fear is now passing on this nasty habit to my kids, namely Mercy, because I see she has some similar personality patterns.  I am determined to defeat this monster of negativity and become a hero in my book for the sake of my kids.  Is that just another standard I am setting for myself?  Perhaps.  But I think as I learn to grow and give myself grace when I fail, I will in fact be winning.

Of course I will still make lists and hopes and some standards.  I'm not trying to rid myself of that.  I'm trying to change how I view myself in these situations, and to understand how God loves me through all this.  I like His standards much better, which say that mercy triumphs over judgment, and that the grace He offers is so ridiculously vast, that our failures get swallowed in the abyss of love and are no more.