The Creatures Within Me

An untamed creature

makes my heart its abode

A creature which roars, rolls over and cries,

melts down, rises, then explodes…

Sentiment, they call it,

this separate entity which lives within.

It duels Reason, clawing it like a beast,

and Reason, standing firm and strong,

bears the pain; it shall not give in.

The dichotomy is torment,

the tearing of what must be one.

Hark, ye Sentiment, submit to Reason,

And ye Reason, tame Sentiment

and place him at the highest servant position.

Yet how can they listen

to the voice of a distant spectator.

How odd, how curious my personhood,

that I am not one but three,

and the third with no voice.

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A Journal Entry: From Self Deprecation

“Once again I am pulled down from a place of material confidence regarding my talent for writing. It does not bother me so much, however, that I am not skilled in this particular earthly element, just as I do not make a huge deal out of my cringing voice. At the very least, for now I am able to ignore them and deny it power to effect me.

It ties in very well with the trust-and-obey theme God appointed to me this season. I do not have outstanding talent; I do not have a single innate gift that surpasses those around me. I do not impress the public with my earthly ornaments. And there lies the magnificent beauty: All that is beautiful about me comes wholly from my LORD. All that is talented about me comes from my dependence on the LORD. I am thus extremely beautiful.” 2016/02/16

I wrote this some five months ago, but it deeply encouraged me today. I am once again struggling with self esteem, questioning what worth I have in this world. I searched for qualities in me that are beautiful — am I pretty? talented? skilled in any way, or even kind and loving? — but I found none according to my standards. I knew that God’s standards are the only ones that matter, and that I am valuable according to His standards, but I found myself continuously pushing away this fact and frantically searching for beauty inside me. I discovered worthlessness, sin, imperfection, and a lonely, wandering soul.

When I read this entry after feeling inclined to read my old journal, it finally clicked: I was focusing on myself and blinded to God. Finally lifting my eyes from myself, I caught a glimpse of unbearable beauty, unlimited strength, unimaginable glory. Who am I to consider myself beautiful or valuable –even if I were talented or kind — at the presence of—-God? Who am I to pompously march out unto the world when the great and awesome God walks beside me? The image of a silhouette came into my mind: a darkened, slender figure, having no visible eyes, smile, or character, completely surrounded by beams of glory, blindingly bright. That’s me. That’s you. We are only beautiful because God is beautiful, because we are darkened for His light.

Offering Dung to the Holy God

The offering of pride turned out to be a spoonful of dung. It’s an awful joke to the King of kings, Creator of the universe, the Great Wisdom and Holiness.
And yet this great God looks through the putridness of pride and finds a grain of humility. He then uses it, and makes it beautiful.
I cannot fathom.

God, the Beauty in the Beautiful

“You are everything that is beautiful” – Keep Me Near by Rend Collective

A person is beautiful. The deeper you know a person, the more beauty you discover, the more you love. Nature is beautiful. The more you linger in the green and blue, the more you sink into its depths, the more you love. Ideas are beautiful. The more you venture through the maze of thoughts, the more you are intrigued, the more you love.
But these things are beautiful because Beauty is in them, because God has taken essential part in their existence and identities.
Thus I love perhaps the person, perhaps nature, perhaps ideas; but without doubt, I love the God who manifests His beauty in them.

You gat this!…?

The marvelous truth is, it is far better that I don’t have this together, that I am incapable of handling my works, for it is then that the Almighty takes complete control, and then that I depend completely on Him. It is then that I am absolutely certain of the good that will come, for Goodness Himself is working with His hands. It is also then that I am unquestionably certain as to whom the glory belongs.
Hence in my weakness His power is more glorified.

So Sarah, you gaaat this?
nohp.
I don’t gat this.
He’s gaat this.

—-2 Corinthians 12:8-10

Focus on the Present

A runner runs. Sweat, dripping down his forehead, dampening the ears and lips, salty, hot, and cold. The runner runs. Pain, crawling up his thighs, his waist, then chest. Breathing harsh, the runner runs.

The runner has a hat. It is a strange hat. It is a wide, round one, like a flat sombrero, and has dangling objects shifting side to side every time the runner pushes out for another step. The objects – a barbie doll, a piece of chocolate cake, a model car, a diploma, a picture of a special person, and many others all around the hat, rotating every now and then, dangling with charm.

The runners eyes move. Almost mechanically, his pupils run from one end of the eyes to the other, tracing the shaking of the object directly before him. The charm before him is a picture of a road, resembling that which he is running on at present, but with different curves, different flowers, different spectacles to view. He sees unfamiliar mountains, purple and white, ditches and puddles, dirty and dark, and a field of sunflowers down the side of the road, smiling and dancing about. Oh how exciting, he thinks. I wonder just how many of these flowers I will see, how harsh the climb of that mountain will be, what adventures await, what wonders I will see!

The runner stops. His foot is wet, heavy, and stuck on a pool of mud. He takes one more glance at the charming picture, looks down and sees his foot. Pathetic. I could have avoided that, or at least had some fun with the mud, what thrill it would have been, had I glided over the shallow areas, or ran with lifted knees and thumped the mud!, he thinks.

So the runner gently removes his foot from the mud puddle, scrapes the dirt unto the dry road, and takes a breath. He looks around – a breathtaking view. The two mountains at a distant, side by side, blue, but clothed with yellowish trees, and around him, green bushes and ferns, tinted with gold of the sunlight. The sky is blindingly white, or rather, very brightly blue.

The runner remembers the adventure he is one right at this moment. The beauty, the wonders, the breathtaking moments he is missing out on!

The runner runs. He runs, slips, slides, glides, and jumps over the obstacles before him, all the while enjoying the view. Sweat, coating his arms and legs, streams down to his ankles. As he runs the wind, cold and fresh, tingles his skin, and he smiles. He breathes in. His lungs, filled with hot air, feels sweaty from the inside, but warm, and lively.

As he runs, the enchanting picture of another road lost its color. It was no longer enchanting, but rather gray, and too separate from the road he is running on now. The picture dangles loose, and then falls off. It lands on the road, unheard, unseen, forgotten. The road it depicted will someday meet the runner, but not now.

An Entry from My Diary – on Unworthiness

“I am a useless crap. A piece of moldy cake. I cannot do anything well: I have no special talent, no good ability, nor the focus and concentration to better myself. I thought perhaps my mind is special and has a chance to excel, but it proved not. No matter how much I understand my duties and be reconciled to righteousness, I lose it all too easily and never make the action to make real my desires and determinations. I am a useless crap. 
But that is the point. I remember praying, in the midst of subtle pride, that I be weak, foolish, completely worthless, that You (God) may use me to show Your glory. That because I am so weak, so imperfect, Your strength and perfection will be revealed.” 2015.09.29

context: I was looking through my journal and read this one, from a few weeks ago. I was realizing more than ever that I am unworthy of anything, that I am not in fact beautiful. But I also realized that it’s okay to not be beautiful, because the One who matters most, the LORD, love me despite my ugliness. He doesn’t love me because I am beautiful; rather, His love makes me beautiful. This is a follow up:

“Incessantly a voice chatters in my head – subtly, with dimmed sounds… ‘nobody loves you, so you are not beautiful. Nobody makes you beautiful….so you are not worthy.’ 
So I will speak to you, Voice. You are incorrect. There are many, many people who love me. You seem to define ‘love’ as obsession, or an over-passionate eros. That is irrational. Love is not obsessive, love is not only eros. These are facts well founded in the Word. And who do you mean by ‘nobody’? If you define ‘nobody’ as the collective group of people, mum, dad, Sa***, Do***e, Aunt J***, Uncle G***, Wa****s, Ka***, Jo****, K**, and all others in my circles who, I am sure, loves me very much, then sure.
And I think that you do not understand the value of being unworthy. My worthlessness is not a conception, it’s a fact. I have fallen, I am very filthy. I am sinful. This fact cannot change. I will never be righteous until the end of days and I return to my Home. However, I am DEEMED worthy. Not only does a mass of lovely people on earth LOVE me to make me beautiful, the King of all kings, the Creator of ALL, the God of infinite glory, loves me and takes pleasure in me. HE SAYS THAT I AM BEAUTIFUL. And there is no other authority that can challenge His word. I am BEAUTIFUL and you cannot take that away from me. And besides, the fact that I am unworthy proves the extent of God’s love, how selfless and loving He is. That is my honour to glorify Him. -2015.10.07

I just thought I’d share. 🙂