an old friend.

i haven't found sleeplessness until last night. i can barely remember the last time i saw the sun come up and the moon find rest before i did. until last night, i hadn't had an empty room. andrew was at a sleepover, so the room was void of snoring. all i heard was the clicking noise of my blinds against my window and dogs faintly gossiping in the distance. insomnia, an old friend.

what i did last night to pass the time, i'm not sure. i do remember praying. i remember singing in my head. i remember thinking too much that i cried. i had no music to blanket me or inspiration to fuel me. i had nothing. i haven't felt nothing in a long time.

passing hours with different variations of reclining positions, i was complacent. a busy phone, a bored computer, these electronics were worn out. technology could only help for so long. even friends have to rest. even batteries must recharge. and i have to accept the facts.

Lord, it's just me and you now, i said.

with that, my eyes closed their shutters, and i slept.
i dreamed.

reunion.

wednesday. 14 april, 2009. 10:18 pm.

tonight, i'm going to write. my original plan was to lay down and silently listen to my ipod for the first time in months. now i'm listening and writing. just listening felt awkward to me, like spending time with your long-lost childhood friend.

for the short four-song on-the-go playlist that i made, i couldn't help but try and recollect old thoughts i used to muster up when this was an important part of my life. (i know. four songs is a slow restart, but it's a restart). i figured that i should pick songs that were from random stages of my life.

maybe old thoughts and old lyrics will have a nice reunion.

the first song was "priceless" by copeland. not the best song in the world, nor the best recording. i remember that for the longest time i had no idea what this song was about exactly. i made it about my God. this was a in a "searching" time in my life. whenever i heard this song, i wanted to stand atop mt. soledad, spread my arms and let the wind set the illusion that i'm taking flight. this was also a time in my life that i felt like if i did that, people would think i'm weird. ah, high school.

next: "delicate" by damien rice. damien's lyrics never really paralleled any part of my short existence. although, if this particular era had a melody and a string quartet piece, it would have sounded like this. this song monuments a time when the Lord lovingly cleaned up the shrapnel in my skin and the battle scars. the tender rise of the intensity of the song signified a significant strengthening. i may not have had any friends at the time, but my Beloved was mine.

ah yes. "title and registration" by death cab for cutie. this marked a changing of the times. i had just read perks of being a wallflower and i latched onto inumerable playlists that could be a backing track to that perfect drive. i remember laying down in my bed with the transatlanticism album in my headphones as i closed my eyes and tried to imagine what charlie meant. i was dreaming vivid dreams of being a passenger. eventually, a driver came along. and i listened to this song for fear of shrapnel wounds repeating themsleves. silly girl really had nothing to worry about.

finally, "falling slowly" by the swell season. whenever i heard this song or watched this movie, i was moved. i was reminded of how far we've come. how close were and are to writing songs like this. thank God i ever have someone to share this with.


and so, my playlist continues to grow with time.
chapters and entries are written every minute.

keep listening, keep reading, dear spectator.
we've only just begun.

sincerely,
-faith

selah.

Daddy,

Let me trust in You in this time.
I can't do it.

In Jesus' Name,
Amen.

working girl.

it's weird, really.
when my new boss said that i clinched the job, i didn't react like i would have liked to.
"awesome," i said quietly and indistinctly.

undoubtedly, i was excited to take on the job. my first job. i guess i was overwhelmed with the notion that i have crossed over the dividing line between dependent and semi-dependent with this part-time job. overwhelmed enough that my motor skills shut down for a couple of seconds and all i could squeeze out was a humble "awesome."

earning pocket money is not completely unfamiliar to me.
i am used to doing the mundane and enjoying every minute of it.
but now i'm in a completely different environment with weirdo coworkers and a potentially creepy boss.


Lord, thank You for this job.
I really like smoothies.

a second set of eyes.

i need a camera.
sometimes words are not enough.

to everything there is a season.

so, it looks like i'll be staying for another semester.

i've been praying lately about going to the jerusalem campus for years. YEARS. the time draws nearer that it'd be nice if i had an answer if someone asked me if i'm to go. i believe i already have my answer. the Lord has been closing doors. blessed be the name of the Lord, really. answer: no.

i have a peace about not being able to go. a peace that a lot of people would find bizarre. what is more amazing is the ministry opportunities that are coming around the bend [yes, cliche statement]. it looks like He gives and He takes away. doors are closed, others are opened. every now and then a window. i am competely content with not going.

this could only mean that there is a greater work to be done in california. temecula. calvary chapel bible college. inland valley victory church. the Spirit of God is everywhere and He will lead me as long as i allow Him.


in other news:

i can't wait for autumn to make it's way to the plate. the air is easier to breathe then. the ocean is warmer thanks to our good friend summer. the contrasting colors are inspiring.

but for now, we have summer.
she is beautiful.
but not quite the one for me.
my leah to my rachel.


yet, to everything there's a season.

the fact of the matter.

"things change. and friends leave. and life doesn’t stop for anybody."
-charlie

not too long ago, i had a very unnecessary emotional breakdown. i guess it was the summation of all my fleshly frustration that i compartmentalized in the secluded part of my brain. what i should have taken to the Lord in prayer, i let the quiet things put themselves where they wanted to go. well, this is what i found out:

the world does not stop turning for anyone. may i be the first to admit that without God, i am a very selfish person. to say that was pretty difficult. if there's one thing i know about being selfish, i notice other people are being selfish. see, now this is interesting. i have a weird desire to please everyone all the time. and if any one person shows a hint of frustration, anger, or sadness, i immediate think it's my fault. what a weird contradiction.

well, suck it up, faith.

thank YOU for being a patient, very unselfish friend.
we balance each other out.