Does not play well with others

This was the message my mother found on all of my report cards as a child. I always told her that it wasn't that I didn't like the other kids, it was that they didn't like me. I always blamed them. But year after year, the same me returned to school, and every year I was marked as the kid who did not play well with others. My backpacks were stolen, my lunch torn apart, my hair pulled, my shins kicked, and on and on. I had crying fits. I cried in class and hid under my desk, trying to avoid being noticed. I cried on the playground alone by the fence as far back from the other kids as I could get, and the teachers always came, wondering what sort of unauthorize activities I might be engaging in by the fence, and forced me to go back to the other kids, actively tried to find someone who would play jumprope or tetherball with me. I am perfectly aware now that hiding under my desk and wandering off alone only drew more attention to me, bringing further ridicule. My entire elementary school (and middle school for that matter) career was spent trying not to be noticed, which usually ended up drawing more attention to me and caused me more problems. When I was made fun of for wearing a patch, I could have developed as a class clown had I made it into a joke, but instead I cried, and everyone knew me as the girl who cried over EVERYTHING. It became a game to see how easy it was to make me cry. In sixth grade I was even sent to an afterschool program for children who had "emotional trouble."
Okay, so one might wonder Hmmm... Where is Jeni going with this random narration about her "troubled" childhood. And now I will tell you:
I have realized that in some ways I am still that child who did not play well with others. I still get "bullied" because I don't speak up for myself, I don't appeal to God, and I don't really do anything at all except cry about how crappy my life is or how I'm not good at anything. I cry when someone has hurt me or ignored me, but I don't say anything. I just sit over on the side, crying. Instead of hiding beneath my desk, I hide beneath this blog--It is painfully obvious what is going on underneath, but I think that people won't notice. When people come to ask me what's going on, what's the matter, I lie and say everything's fine and I'm forced to go back to the playground, to the world and hope that no one will notice I've been crying because it makes me look weak, it makes me prey to the bullies and the men and women in my life who think of me as more childish because I cry. If I had been bold enough to ask the people on the playground to let me play with them, if I was bold enough now to ask for prayer for the areas I struggle in, I wouldn't find myself in the corner, trying not to let anyone see me cry. I would be inside, taking care of the things that needed to be taken care of, crying if I needed to, but not because I thought nobody cared. I do not play well with others because I spend my life running away from them, hiding from them.
Nothing made this more clear than a conversation at church this morning. B-Boss and I were talking with Scoey, and he said something along the lines of
I know Jeni can't stop talking when she's around the people she's close to, but the rest of us don't really know much about her. The blogs are nice because they let us know what is going on in her life. That moment was more convicting to me than anything during the service. I do not play well with others because I'm too busy hiding under my desk crying, hiding under my blog where no one SEES me, they just hear my cries. Gulp--where do I begin to remedy this mess? How do I start being open and honest in person with people I've been hiding from for years?

Moving on...

Last night, my great-grandmother, who turned one hundred 2 months ago, passed away. It is very strange--I just mentioned three days ago in my post that she wasn't really living, and now she's physically not. I don't really know how to feel. I'm not really mourning, because I know that it was her time, yet I feel like there is something not right about that. But the way her life was, I cannot say that I wish she was still living on. Perhaps this poem I wrote a few weeks ago will better express what I'm trying to say:

After a Hundred Years

Her heart continues beating, her lungs still take in breath
but after a hundred years practice, it is programmed,
like a machine, she knows no reason.
She cannot hear "I love you," can't see our smiles, our tears.
She feels not lonely, nor joyful, nor sad--she knows no emotion but fear
as each day she awakes in a new place, though she's never left.
She no longer remembers names or faces.
She's forgotten where she's from, and where she's been--
Even her husband and son are but a distant memory,
long gone from this life, and from her mind.
She sits in her wheelchair, alone all day and thinks nothing
of the absence of those who could come visit, for she cannot remember
even when they are there, holding her hand,
stroking her once golden hair, which has grown pale, after a hundred years.
No shadow of color remains, no glints of sunshine bounce off the surface,
only deathly white strands, absorbing the life around her.

And now for something a bit more cheerful:

Sorry for the depressing nature of my last couple of posts. I've been in kind of a funk this week. I think it was a case of I-don't-want-to-work-tinitis. That whole vacation thing, spending a week doing the thing I'd love to spend my life doing (and I don't mean sleeping, though that would also be tempting ; ) spoiled me and the return to work jerked me back to reality where people have to work jobs that they don't like in order to pay the bills.
Right now, I am taking a break from an incredibly sad attempt at drawing a lion. After I sketched out an idea for my next tattoo, my roommate asked me to draw something for her to add to a tattoo she already has, which is the symbol for her astrological sign. She wants to add to it with a sun theme, but doesn't know SPECIFICALLY what she wants--she wants me to come up with that concept, see what I get. She is a "Leo" in terms of astrology (which she isn't really into, so the whole thing doesn't really make sense) so I am attempting to draw a lion which would incorporate the symbol. After that, I was going to attempt to have the lion's mane going outward and turn into flames around its head, like the sun. My attempts at drawing this are really rather comical. I'm not saying this in a "woe is me, I cannot draw sort of way" because I really don't care that I can't draw and I'm VERY entertained by what I have come up with. I'm not bad, but a realistic lion is far beyond my skill level. But I WILL persevere. Even if the lion doesn't look perfect, at least the idea will be clear. Perhaps when I have access to a scanner, I will post a picture so that you might be entertained, too. I wouldn't want to keep all of the giggling to myself...
And that is the end of this post that has no deeper meaning, no distraught questions or longings, just my rambling about how utterly entertaining things are when I attempt to draw.

Still struggling with self-doubt

Self-doubt is an ongoing battle for me. I have had people tell me that by doubting myself, I am doubting God because I'm saying that something he created is not good. I also frequently hear the messages of how we don't measure up to God's standards and only by his grace are we saved. I have no trouble accepting the second statement. In fact, I am EXCEEDINGLY aware of the ways I do not live up to God's standard. I keep pressing forward, trying to improve myself, but I keep backsliding, falling into habits that God does not love. I constantly find myself worrying what other people think of me, and sometimes, being the imperfect person that I am, I let that have more control over me than what God thinks of me.
Case in point: Sometimes, when people don't say more than an occasional hello to me, I think that it is a sign that they a) don't like me or b) are mad at me. I do not, however, attempt to talk to them. I let my fear of being rejected, ignored, turned away, keep me from developing relationships. Yes, I am aware of it, and yes, I do TRY to push through it, but some people intimidate me more than others. I am almost 26--there is no reason for me to be afraid of the bullies on the playground anymore. However, I constantly find myself analyzing, trying to find a reason why such-and-such doesn't talk to me. Maybe (s)he just doesn't like me. Or maybe (s)he thinks I'm a bad person. I bet that's it. But if that's it, isn't it his/her duty as a fellow Christian to let me know what it is I'm doing that is bad/unhealthy/offensive so that I might be able to improve myself. Oh shoot. I bet it's because I talk too much. Or maybe (s)he thinks that my stance on (important religious issue) is not Biblical. I wish people would just tell me what I'm doing wrong, why they aren't talking to me. Being criticized would be better than being ignored. And all the while, I am ignoring said people, in some senses intentionally avoiding them because when it comes to whether or not people like me, sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Has anyone else had such a bitter struggle with self doubt, and if so, any advice on how I can make my next step in conquering. I know it's a long process, and I've been dealing with it for a while, but I feel that I have reached a standstill, a plateau, that I am stagnant.

Sobering

Lots of things going on in my family and in the families of people I know and care about. Many of these things are not so happy, hence the title of my post. Here's some of the things that make me feel really selfish for complaining about the things I do, and realize that I am INCREDIBLY fortunate.

-My younger half-sister was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. She is a single mother of three children, and has not told them yet. She wants to wait until she finds out how far along it is and what treatment the doctors are going to pursue.
-My older half-sister is moving to Georgia because her fiancee is struggling with a custody battle with his son. He was granted custody of his son in his divorce, but his ex-wife took him to court to keep him from being able to bring his son to Reno. In a court that favors mother's rights, he was told that if he wanted to keep custody, he would have to stay in Georgia so that his ex-wife could have easy access to her son for visitation. It makes me sad for the kid to have to be involved in such a battle.
-My great-grandmother turned 100 this year--she no longer knows who any of us are, she can't hear, can't see well, but she's still breathing and eating on her own.
-I have a friend whose father has been fighting lung cancer for over 2 years. Her mother is also unwell and not expected to live much longer. Her father was recently put into hospice care, and as of this weekend, the doctors are only giving him about 2 more weeks.

Please be praying with me on these situations.

A call to action

Today, the book study I attend, led by Becky, http://crinolinepagesinb.blogspot.com, finished up our reading of God's Politics. We've been struggling to get into it for months, and finally decided it best to read the last chapter and call it done. I'm glad that we didn't skip the last chapter, because I personally found it the most insightful and the most challenging. I would like to share a passage that I found particularly convicting:

"...he began to open up to us about how a workplace conflict had left him without a job and eventually homeless.
We all noticed that Matthew always carried around a large cardboard box, which he would carefully set down next to him. Exactly what was in that box? After the last night of class, Matthew came with us to a Call to Renewal organizing meeting at the Divinity School. Afterward, as we were in the refectory for refreshments, I looked over and saw that Matthew had opened his box and placed its contents on one of the tables. People gathered around to view a beautifully crafted model of a church made from white cardboard. All along the outer walls of the steepled church were the words of the prophets and the sayings of Jesus, beautifully written in Matthew's own hand--almost like caligraphy. Over the front door, Christ's words appeared, 'Come to me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' Right beneath the words was a door, closed shut with a little padlock. The message was clear.
Matthew told me how he made his church and protected it from the elements. He smiled and said, 'Sometimes, people like the church so much they offer to keep it in their apartment for me, so it doesn't get damaged.' With a twinkle in his eye, he added, 'But they don't make the same offer to me. Only to my church.'"
God's Politics-Jim Wallis
Chapter 21 pg. 357

Really, one can take from this story whatever he/she wants, but I am convicted. I am reminded of an idea I had, a plan I made in an effort to serve those who Jesus refers to as "the least of these." The idea was based on the notion of Christmas. In college, I attempted to write an argument against the use of the term X-mas for the holiday celebrated on December 25th. I was strongly opposed to it because in my words, "We're not celebrating the birth of X!" My roommate reminded me that not all people who celebrate this holiday on December 25th, are celebrating the birth of Christ. They are honoring the day as a cultural holiday as it has been made, rather than a religious holiday... Many people don't even make the connection. But it was not right... It wasn't fair that America could just hijack the holiday, take it away from Jesus. But as I began to research for the paper I wanted to write, I made a discovery that may seem obvious to some. The early Christians (Acts, etc.) did not have a holiday set aside for the celebration of the birth of Christ. They did not need such a holiday. They celebrated the birth of Christ every day. I decided at that time that modern Christians should strive to be more like this. That we should be celebrating Christmas EVERY DAY. I wanted to figure out a way to start a non-profit organization with this principle as its foundation. I had grand ideas in which each day the Christmas Every Day Foundation would perform some service to an underpriveliged group--a different service for a different group EVERY DAY. I still think it's a good idea, and I want to do something with it... but I don't. I let it sit stagnant, hoping that someone else will start the ball rolling so that I can just hop aboard. I say I want to make a difference, I have the words of the prophets and Jesus written all over me, but when will I start letting people in?

Weeeee.... Or: How I spent my summer vacation.

In case anyone was wondering, or would like to know, this is the progress made on my vacation:
Page count: 50
Word count: 23404

I feel so accomplished right now. I can go to bed and feel good about myself, knowing that I accomplished something that was important to me. Now, to keep the momentum going. That will be the tougher part.

A goal almost reached

Page count: 44
Word count: 20799

Taking a short break from writing to make this post. My creative juices are not functioning terribly well right now. I'm feeling somewhat stifled by the fact that I have to go back to work tomorrow. I keep worrying about what sort of mess it's going to be when I get there, and it's kind of bringing me down on my writing high. But I'm pressing on. I will not let the Evil K keep me from accomplishing my goal of 50 pages. I have let that place control my life for two long. The most important thing in my life right now, aside from God of course, is my writing, and I cannot let the Evil K pull me away from it again. Please be praying that I would have the discipline to keep writing after I go back to work, even on crappy days. God has gifted me with a passion for writing, and I do not want to continue to squander it as I was doing before. It is my dream to be a writer, but in order for that to be possible, I need to write.

I just might make it after all

Current page count: 33
Current word count: 15,204

I think it's time for a break...

My mission should I choose to accept it.

So, I have been on vacation all this week, and I am really enjoying it. However, that is not to say that I took a vacation so I could sit around and be lazy and not work, which is pretty much what I did on Monday and Tuesday. But in reality, even though I wasn't going anywhere, I decided to take my vacation so that I could spend time writing more extensively than I do when I am working. So yesterday, I set myself out on that task. Total pages completed yesterday: 10. So my goal is to write 10 pages everyday until I go back to work. That way, when I go back to work, I will have 50 pages, which will be a very good start.
This is not an easy task, in any way. It seems like it should be fairly easy to write about one's own life, but when you are writing about what you've lost--even the happy parts are sad. I don't know if that makes any sense. I guess that what I'm trying to say is, it's very difficult to write about some of the happiest times of my life because right now it seems like I won't ever be that happy again. I know that this all sounds very depressing, and in some ways it is, but I can't see any other way to move past it. I've been praying about the whole thing for several years, but I can't seem to be able to let it go, so I'm trying something new. If I write about it, I will be dumping it all out--every bit of it, even the things that nobody else never knew--and maybe then, once it's out, I'll be able to let it go. It's worth a try, and that is what I'm doing.
I know that this sounds rather vague and enigmatic at the moment, but I'm still trudging through it, trying to figure out what pain is real, and what is created.

Growing more restless by the day

I only have a little over a month before I move into my friend's house... I will be living with 2 people from work when the entire situation is finalized. I will still be living with people who are not Christians, however, people who live like they are or could be. In addition, we have VERY similar interests. We all write, and have interests in artistic things. I wish that the time would go by faster, but I know that I need to be patient. It's not that I don't like my roommates now (my brother and his girlfriend) but it's like living with a married couple. My brother has gotten kinder and more considerate, and even more friendly since I decided that I was moving out, but his girlfriend, who I used to get along with really well, has started completely shutting me out. She makes plans as though I've already moved out and she seems to just pretty much ignore my existence all together. I'm sure it's nothing personal, she's just so ready to be married that there's not room for another person there. I don't mean to make it sound like I love her any less than I did before, because I don't. I just need to move on, and I've been ready for a while, but the lease doesn't end until the end of August and I JUST WANT TO MOVE. Okay, no particular reason for all of this information except that I need to express this.

Ponderings on Harry Potter

Today is the release of the sixt Harry Potter book, and my friends and I are going to the midnight party to pick up our books. Because of the timeliness of it, I thought it might be a good topic of conversation for the day.
Now, I know some people will not agree with me on this particular matter and that is fine. I just want to throw it out there.
I have, for my entire life as a Christian (5 years), heard people demonize the Harry Potter series. I've even heard it referred to by some as "Satan's work." However, the same Christians enjoy the Chronicles of Narnia and the Lord of the Rings series, both of which also touch on topics of witchcraft, magic, and mythical creatures. I have not read the Lord of the Rings series, though I have read The Hobbit so I am basing my information on that on the movies and the word of other people I know who have read the series. At any rate, what I want to know is, why is it acceptable for children to read books about magic and such as long as they were written by a Christian. The children will not be able to tell the difference. They don't know what an allegory is, and if they are old enough to know that, or have someone explain it to them, then they are also old enough to have someone explain to them that Harry Potter is not reality, that witchcraft is not Biblical, just as parents would have to explain about the Narnia and LOTR series.
I have personally been able to use things in Harry Potter to connect to people and explain to them Biblical things that they may not grasp any other way. I enjoy reading the books as an adult, and my faith in God is not in any way affected by reading them. I am taking my niece, who is 13, to the party, and I have no qualms about it because I know that her faith is also strong. I would say, if one has a history of being involved in witchcraft, and may be tempted to go back to it because of reading these books, then they probably shouldn't. If it is something that they struggle with, if they know it will cause them to sin, then they should avoid reading these books. But personally, I have no struggle in that area. I have never in my life believed in any other God, even before I was actually a Christian. Let's be honest, I have my own things that I need to stay away from. Most of the time I avoid romantic comedies because I know that doing so will cause me to fantasize about a life that is not mine. In the same way, people who struggle with their loyalty to God, like to dapple in other beliefs, or have previously been involved in witchcraft, would be safe to stay away. But it is up to us as individuals to listen to God and hear Him tell us what areas we have problems in. It is up to us to assess what things in our lives are drawing us away from God, and for me, Harry Potter is not one of them. I am tired of being ridiculed (obviously not by anyone here, or I might not be saying this) by Christians who think that their interpretation is the only one and everyone else should follow. Unless it says specifically in the Bible, "Thou shalt not read Harry Potter" then everything beyond that is a matter of interpretation and should be prayerfully considered by each of us individually.

P.S. I think a blog is an amazing thing. I would be too afraid to bring this up with most people face to face. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of a sissy and don't generally initiate face to face conversations unless I am INCREDIBLY comfortable with you. I am working on this.

P.S.S. Sorry to anyone who already tried to comment. That was an accident!

This is an old one, a little bit more refined...

This was originally a letter to my only two boyfriends (almost 7 years ago) who tried to take from me what I would not give. I'll just leave the explanation at that.


Unblemished

I have been chosen by hand by the
one who made me. Like a perfectly
ripened plum, I have been set aside.

You will never know the flavor
of my plump and juicy
strawberry lips. You will not know
the scent of my golden honey hair.
I shall remain pure as the rainwater--
clean and untouched
by your stumbling hands, while my
sins are wiped away by His perfect love.

He has gently caressed
my bruises and scars that were left
when your impatient branches
tried to penetrate my
skin. But you could not succeed
because He has selected me
as one whose sweetness
will never be known, whose apricot
flesh will never be tasted.

Calling for Rain

Okay, this is really bad, but what can you expect from a poem that was written in three minutes?


A hundred and three degrees outside
And inside nothing but pain
The weatherman says there's no sign
Of this pattern breaking today--
I want to break down, keep crying
But God's still waiting for me to pray
For relief from this internal burning,
It may be hot outside but I'm calling for rain.