i think i'm too deep for my own good.
elaborate , but i don't know how.
i guess i feel like my thoughts are so intangible, more like emotions that i can't define with words.
these things leave me a bit disconnected.
i've had less to say, more to worry about, and i feel less experiencing, more existing.
i mean, don't get me wrong. things are so great. amazing, even. so says my head. but heart, where are you? are you getting any of this? are you still beating inside of my chest? it seems like you're missing. come on, catch up.
the future is bright, and blinding my eyes, it's high, it's a long way down, and i'm ready, i'm running, i'm running, but it's the pause before the descent, that moment suspended in time -

are you sure?

falling is like this...

make known to me your ways,
Lord; teach me your paths.
guide me in the truth and teach me,
for you are God my savior.
- psalm 25:4-5

i have heard your prayers and have seen your tears. i will heal you.
- 2 kings 20:5

once more will he fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with rejoicing.
- job 8:21

these three verses are the epitome of my past six months.

i am overwhelmed with emotion when i consider that.
the specifics don't matter anymore. all of those little details fall to the wayside, because what happened to me was quite simple and can be summed up nicely. i was broken. and he fixed me. he foretold to me these three things, and these three things he followed through with. because i got lost. because i let my compass get broken and lost direction, lost sight of his guiding star. i was so deep into the woods that it took an entire forest fire for me to find my way. and that fire was so hot and smoky and painful, i thought surely it was going to kill me. and all of those trees ached as they burned and blackened and fell and died all around. trees that were sacred, that had grown tenderly and affectionately all around me for such a long time.

but they had to go for me to find my way out.

and out i found, eventually, slowly, certainly not without running back into those raging flames a time or two. trying to stop that fire with a thimble full of water here or there. looking at all of that destruction and feeling so utterly hopeless. but there it was, the path for me to follow, in the clearing i could now see it, go to it, slowly, putting my foot out at first like testing the waters of a swimming pool, so slow at first. at times, flat out sitting down in an act of rebellion, not moving a single muscle. occasionally walking backwards. but then, with each step, slow and steady, his confidence grew inside of me. those steps were long and heavy at first. but that confidence i began to find in him turned out to be this little thing he does called healing, each step a little lighter than the one before. and progression, progression, i'm moving swiftly in the direction he's leading me.

and oh, that joy. it's been so long since that joy. it's not the isolated kind, coming from a good night out with friends or a compliment or a funny story. its the kind of joy that permeates your being. the kind of joy that happens when i can't even think about almighty without being filled with emotions of thanksgiving, praise, worship. when my world is no longer sluggish and dragging, because my soul is so energized. and i'm laughing so hard. because you are my joy, you are my joy.

a snapshot: i'm taking my time day by day, enjoying the moment, sleeping less and staying in less, because there's so much to do, so much life to experience, so many things to embrace and be in love with. and i'm this new thing. i've never been this thing before! i'm looking back with these new eyes that can see nothing but optomism, because i grew and changed and learned. because i'm growing and changing and learning. and because my god took me through something big and difficult and utterly agonizing. but he's faithful, he's so faithful! faithful and there he was on the other side, and there he is, as he always was, as he always will be - with something redeeming, life changing, breathtaking.

and i can't wait for the rest.

my mind feels spastic, all over the place.
it's a good thing, mostly.
except when it comes to sitting down and trying to write about one specific thing, when there are so so many things.

like this beautiful book i just read called traveling mercies by anne lamott. her writing is like taking a deep breath of fresh air. she's so candid and has this really neat way of making all her life's experiences sound so sacred, so real and raw, so interwoven into this beautiful long story. words don't do justice to the way her writing moves.

or the way this poem makes me feel, which i found at the start of her book:

listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is
- w.s. merwin

can you feel the energy flowing through it? do those words ignite something inside of you like they do me? do you feel it? amongst every broken place, do you feel that sort gratitude in its great entirety? it's so strong and beautiful. and again, i have no words to do it justice. its just that feeling inside of me. sacred.

anyway. i didn't take away any profound sort of intellectual knowledge from this book, which often happens for me. but i feel like i was handed someone else's soul, like i made a lifelong friend, like someone sat with me awhile and stoked the embers of my spirit alive. that's just amazing to me.

facebook technologies have ruined my life, because now i constantly want to "like" things that can't be liked, and whenever i think about what's going on in my life, i do it in the form of status updates. like if this post were a facebook status update, it would read:

mary is really loving life right now.
mary hasn't felt this good in a long time.
mary loves that god is totally faithful.
mary is taking a train to portland in an hour and is more pumped about it than anything.
mary loves train rides, they're her favorite mode of transportation.
mary can't wait to go to powells, edies five and dime, the corner of morris and rodney, kateri, SE 63rd, and the oregon coast.
mary is so so so excited for surprises.
mary doesn't have words for how ecstatic she is about seeing her old roomies.
mary hopes she gets to sleep in the tree house.
mary is looking forward to hearing neighbor drew say, 'snippity dippity, y'all'.
mary is excited for the future.

yep.
that's how lame i am.
but really, it's kind of fun to do.
and man, things are just so great...