Archive for Julie, 2011


The other day I spoke to a Muslim girl at work about fasting ect. She mentioned that, in varsity, her Christian friends used to fast with them during their month of fasting. During the week I saw a picture of a dry-cleaner with a sign that says “If you are unemployed and need a clean shirt for a job interview, we will clean it for you for free.” Also, on Monday, the assistant where I work came to work and told us her daughter, who is addicted to TIK, broke into her house and stole all her food (even her own baby’s food!) and now she doesn’t have any food in her house. The girl who works with me came up with the idea to help her by buying her the basics, like rice, pap, meat ect.

For me this is the church. Not the denomination. Not the way we pray. The way we hold each other up and defend each other’s backs when times are hard we need a friend.



It’s scary how we wore each other down so, dragging out the inevitable

How we played relationship until the game consumed our lives

And neither of us could remember why we started this game


Until “I love you” became an empty echo against the walls of an empty room

And the people we once were could barely be recognised


I remember when you used to be more than the delusion in my head

And I used to be more than the girl who waits for you

The girl who convinces herself that there’s still something worth fighting for


I’m sure I loved you once

I’m also sure I meant it


Today I couldn’t catch my breath

Today I imagined your name next to mine and your heart in my hands

Today my you filled every corner of my being


But tomorrow

Tomorrow I’ll have it all under control

Tomorrow the wind will have blown away the memory of your kiss on my lips

Tomorrow you’ll be nothing but one more boy

Nothing but another random night

Chaos and beauty

Sometimes I think it all started up there when You said “Are you sure you want to go?”

And I said “Yes, of course”

And You said “It’s going to be hard. And painful sometimes. Really, really painful”

And I said: “I know, I’m up for it”

And You said “But beautiful too. Some moments will be simply magical”

And I said “Let me go. I can do this”

And now that I’m here I sometimes lose track. In the chaos of the pain and the beauty it all sometimes seems pointless. I struggle to make sense of it all. It’s like I know there’s something bigger, but there’s this thing around me fighting so that I can’t see it. It’s harder that I could have ever imagined, but also more beautiful than I could have dreamed of.

That’s sometimes the only way I make sense of things.

Why I haven’t been writing.

I’m going through my annual crisis of faith again. Actually, my faith is in constant crisis. Sometimes not so much crisis, but let’s say…always evolving. Or devolving .Or whatever term we’re allowed to blog about.


Thing is, I can’t not believe in God. Or Jesus. They’re not “Not true”. This is proven every time my atheist friends say “God is my greatest enemy” or something incredibly miraculous happens. More so when I’m sad. When really bad things happen in my life, when I’m down, crying on the bathroom floor, when waking up takes waking up is worse than sleeping. That’s usually when me and God are tight, when hope abounds, when He is the only thing that can keep me going.


But then there are times…like now…when I’m happy. I fluctuate between content and super happy with spots of sadness in between. Then I start to wonder about things. About a God that’s we only create in our imaginations when we need Him. About people and how everyone has a different view of God. About how I see marriages falling apart, even more so with Christian friends than other friends. When I have these moments of hopelessness and making peace with the fact that I don’t think I will ever get married or have children. When I see the world and it’s real.


Sometimes I think I’ve seen too much. Studying occupational therapy shocked me from my upper-middleclass existence into a world where health systems fail, patients die no matter how much we try to help them (or worse, lay in hospital beds for months on end with no visitors.) A world where all the positivity in the world will eventually be squashed. Where dreams and good people go to die.


A little melodramatic there, because often I see really good things as well. People smiling through the pain. Laughter and strange friendships. People pursuing a dream where you wouldn’t think a dream could last a day. A different world. It’s like a see everything now. Good and bad. Great and excruciating. Life and death. Maybe this is why we shouldn’t eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil? I feel somehow unequipped to deal with this. As if “church” and “pastors” prepared me for a recipe, a formula, and then I find out the formula scarcely works and I have no idea what to do. I don’t know who to listen to or what to believe. I feel guarded and protected in my childhood, now left to answer questions the adults in my life didn’t struggle through. Now they’re leaving me to deal with the questions they effectively hid from.


When I read Donald Miller and Philip Yancey and Rob Bell, I believe in God. I can believe in that God, the God my father talks about and believes in. But I see different things too. I see different opinions and different Gods. I see people believing in the same God as me, doing things I wouldn’t do. I don’t know. The point was just me, trying to explain why I didn’t write so much anymore. Because when I write it ends up in the chaos above. Make of it what you will. Good luck. And I’m open for coffee if anyone wants to share in my confusion?


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