it's late

the clock is creeping past one
and i'm wide awake
dang you dr pepper and lack of self-control surrounding all-things-food

we watched under the tuscan sun tonight
for the first time
next up: life is beautiful
since we're on the theme of italy
and screwing up my heart

because i had buried the desire for love deep down in my heart
and covered it with layers of dirt
and i hadn't watched a real romance movie in at least six months
but blast! we watched this movie tonight
and the thread has been pulled
now my whole cover is unraveling before my eyes

because i did want love, and then i really didn't
and now, that want re-emerges
and i forgot how sweet love could be
but now i remember
and i wanted that desire to go away completely
(because apparently, i'm not a girl anymore??)
so that i could focus my attention on other things
things that don't make me nauseous and heartsick and scared out of my mind
things that really truly seem to be life-or-death
Truth and Freedom and Life

this season (and i hate saying "season" because it sounds so "woman retreat-ish" and old...)
has been about growth and transformation
and vulnerability
and finally releasing the Holy Spirit from the "silent treatment" i had shackled Him with for so long
and holy cow, it's been a journey
but i kinda sorta love where i am
and i wouldn't want anything to distract me from where i am going
from where He is taking me
not anything, anything, anything
i guess the proper word would be: nothing

nothing, right now, seems more important
than living in the Truth that i've discovered
or walking with the creative spirit that brings life

nothing, right now, seems more important
than my nighttime walks
painting murals
discovering the truth about my human nature
or the nature of His divinity

and it's love, but in an all together different way
than i ever expected
and that is all there is to it.

goodnight.

because i'm on the topic of childhood...

there's a long-standing joke, where we laugh at the fact that i can't remember much of my childhood

"do you remember....?!?!?!"
"no. i didn't have a childhood."
hahahaha!?

or the like. half-joke.

i have this friend
a boy
who, after a conversation that somehow mixed
relationships and this "joke"
had the most beautiful, surprising idea i've ever heard

i couldn't believe that a boy would think of something so great
so rich

a day in which some wonderful boy who i don't think exists
would plan event after event
a whole day filled with childhood activities
and all sorts of fun things
to create the memories that my brain can no longer find

what?!?
who comes up with this stuff...?

He breathes; i respond, with hesitation

He has this way of bringing things together.
i understand only from what i can see, and what i can see are the pieces of this collision in my life.
i want to write.
no, i want to draw.
wait, wait, wait…i want to study.

so on my desk, strewn about in no particular order, spilling onto my lap
i have my 18-pack of Pentel Fine Point Color Markers
and every highlighter that i own
as well as three or four different pen options: a normal, everyday, pack of 20-black pen, a red pen, and my personal favorite, the fine point roller-ball pen with the liquidy ink that smears if you accidentally touch it too soon, but if you don’t, it dries so dark and i daresay, gorgeously that it makes even writing pages in a blue book more appealing
and i’ve got my sketchbook, doubling as my sociology notebook
and my journal
and my manuscripts: acts, and mark
and my dictionary of biblical imagery
and my heart is quiet, in anticipation
i am ready

inspiration comes at any moment these days
sentences flow through my brain as if they are being whispered in my ear
memories are unlodged and free floating
and i want to catch them, all of them, like lightning bugs in a mason jar
i have to capture it all, or i watch it slip away into the abyss of former ideas, beautiful images, the creative “could have beens”
i no longer believe in those
i believe in what is and what should be
so now i find myself chained to His creative Spirit
desperate to see these “shoulds,” these dreams, become a reality
--------


i am not an artist, by any means, but He has given me a vision
or two or three or twenty
and i feel them bursting out of my skin, dancing onto whatever canvas is waiting
my journal? okay, i scribble down words and ideas so quickly that it’s chicken scratch, illegible to anyone but me
my sketchbook? okay, i will draw, for my eyes only, to try to express the image that is playing, developing like a beautiful story in my mind
He has breathed life into my imagination
He said, “come awake”
i respond, with hesitation: “okay.”
--------


it’s quiet as i tip-toe out to the water
i am alone
i let go of my towel and let it drop to the cement beneath me, falling against my bare skin on the way down
the water is dark, but oddly inviting
steam is rising from the surface and i’m sure that His Spirit is hovering.
there is a distinct chill in the air around me, so again, i tip-toe to the water’s edge and hesitantly slip my toes in. in and out and then, in again. it’s deep, yes, but it has to be.
i’m sitting on the edge now, easing my body into the pool of water that feels like silk against my legs.



yes, His Spirit is here.
a quick breeze comes and i turn, shielding myself from the chill.
there is no chill. only warmth, and the waters are stirring.
again, the wind rises, and i can hear it racing through the trees, pushing through with force. but it gets to me, and it stops; it approaches from behind and gently whispers in my ear.
the warmth of His breath is surprising, and i can feel the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up.
“dive in.”
i respond, with hesitation: “okay.”
--------


i am a mirror, or something like that.
i am a mirror who has fallen with such great force into the harshness of the world
i am a mirror, and i am shattered, but i will try to reflect You
so, what do you see?
it has been sung: “i do not exist, only You exist.”
do you see me? what is me?
my embodied body is disembodied and i no longer live but Christ lives in me
so, what do you see?
come breathe on me, and hide Yourself in the cloud that appears
my naked eyes cannot bear to look at You
breathe on me, at every moment
i only believe in what is and what should be
this is: Your breathe; Your breathe is
and You are: YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE


i’m in love
--------

He knocked on my door and asked me a question:
can Kara come out and play?
i respond, hesitantly: “Okay.”

i’m a child again
i’m a child again
i’m a child again!!!!!

tire swings and tree houses and tickle wars
the sandlot and attempts at cartwheels

i have a lot to learn about
childlike faith
childlike vulnerability
the heart of a child

so be it, i’m in love
--------

this campus is groaning for life, begging to be free.
it is soon coming, soon coming, soon coming.

new favorite thing:

late-night walks around campus
with the air so warm
no sweater necessary :)

to be a child

the dishes are done and put away
and we're all sitting in the living room
enjoying the cool breeze and the whirring of the fan
after a beautifully hot day
it's blogging time

sorry for the wait
(if you were waiting, that is...)
i just haven't known what to write
because each day is a process
each day unearths something new
and it's hard to put into words
how wonderful it has been

something has been stirring
and i've had a strong sense of hopeful expectation
as if i've been waiting for something
that i would not believe, even if i were told
and it's happened
even still, i don't believe it

i'm rediscovering my childhood
in the most beautiful, organic ways
outside of the reality of the passage of time,
the child in me is waking up

i'm stepping into the deep pools of healing
and from the very very inmost part of me
i want to jump up and down
and twirl around and around, unashamedly
and laugh like i haven't laughed in so long
i'm being invited to dance and play and explore

things that i should've experienced as a child
are mine, now
nothing can keep me from them
so yes, i'll sit on my dad's lap and tell him i love him
and yes, i'll sit on a blanket in the sun and read "The Secret Garden"

i'm listening to the message of Love
and rejoicing in the fact that
life is wonderful
and i'm letting myself be romanced by
the beautiful things in life:
flowers behind my ears
blankets in the sun
letting my imagination run free
childlike vulnerability

it's good
i'm free

it's just such a beautiful form of redemption
that i never saw coming
His love does not know the bounds of time;
His redemption does not know the limits of past, present, future
what i thought He would do, even my wildest dreams
do not compare
to the reality of what He is doing
it's so much sweeter than i could've ever imagined

sunscreen...should've thought of that...

yaaaa....that "cumulative four hours" in the sun=sunburn.

baaaad.

yaaaa...that "light, flowy, feminine dress"=the most awkward tan lines.

ever.

sunshine :)

i sat on the grass today for a cumulative four hours
because i belong outside
with the sun shining down on me
and the wind rubbing up against my bare skin
tickling my arms and legs
a dress with no shoes and
i feel beautiful

oh, how we need days like today
to remind us in the most organic of ways
how sweet His love is

it's nice to wear a dress that is
light and flowy and feminine
as i sit in the sun with my journal
and ponder what kind of girl/woman i am
or i am becoming

there was a time when the only dream that my heart would allow
was me, with a boy
his ambiguous figure constantly present in my imagination
as i created glimpses of our adventure in my mind
a great romance, beautiful redemption

it feels odd to be sans ce rêve
because for so long, it defined me
and i wanted to be beautiful for him
and i wanted to be lovely for him
and i wanted to be alluring for him
there was so much love to be given
and i ached for the day when it would no longer be a dream

i don't know that i want him anymore
i don't know that i need him for my grand adventure
or that i need him to define me, to tell me i am
beautiful, lovely, alluring, valuable, good
i don't know that i could truly love him
while i am still learning to love myself

i have embarked on a journey
of self-discovery
because i have been trapped by my own dreams
and by my own ideas of self
and i am finally finally finally letting them go

but when i say "letting them go," i mean,
my heart has been hardened
maybe it's pride, or fear, or some strange mixture of both
maybe it goes much deeper than a desire for freedom
and when i say "maybe," i'm trying to pretend like it isn't pride, or fear,
or that it isn't bad that my heart has been hardened to this kind of love
though i know it is

but i am twenty, inching closer to twenty-one
i am on a journey towards love and gradual softening
and my heart is closed towards him
but is open wide to the
sunshine and the wind and
living barefoot in my pretty dress

thing things

i've been working all day on a depressing paper
depressing topic, struggle to formulate sentences
bleckhasdfiuasd
so i'm glad that i'm ending my day with this
and a glass of orange juice
and some sixpence/eisley/sufjan/j fo

tomorrow: breakfast, read/pray/journal, meeting, church, tea time

hopefully another beautiful day

and the things that are on my mind these days:
a. i am so terribly happy that i came back to san diego. leaving was such a weird but necessary decision; coming back has been the best. i never want to leave. i'm terrified to graduate. one more year is not enough.
b. i have a sense of expectation in my heart, hopeful expectation, as if something BIG is about to happen. i'm excited :)
c. friday is good friday. i love good friday. i'm excited for passover, round two.

more on all of that later, my body is craving sleep and i'm giving in