In Between Days

Today reminded me of one of those in between days where winter isn't entirely ready to let go but you still see signs of spring. Those days where the mornings and night can have a crisp feel but the afternoon is so beautiful you forgot you the cold crisp air woke you up without the aid of any coffee. And there are those days where the April (or March as is the case now) showers show up to bring May flowers. Those showers, I don't know, they are kind of like in between days. The rain can feel inconvenient at the time especially when it shows up on a day when you had the perfect plan of how to spend the day outside and sometimes it can hurt getting pelted by the rain especially when there is a wind swaying the raindrops at just the right angle and force. Although for the most part I like a rainy day even on those days when it ruins plans or causes a little pain in the end just like the flowers appreciate that refreshing hydration and I appreciate the beauty of the flowers that bloom I can see how the rainy in between day was needed. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a in between decade because thirties are an odd age yet quite possibly my favorite thus far because I am finally finding out who I am or at least better understanding myself. Of course there are still days where the rain pours or at the very least the sky (my thoughts) gets dark and gray with threats that the biggest storm of my life is going to let loose and I won't make it through. You know I got thinking about that today and the thought came out of the blue really that I am thankful and appreciate the light because I have known the darkness. I think I started this post by putting the cart before the horse in ways but hopefully I get what I want to say out where it can be understood. To get that in the right order I guess I should write what I don't really want to write. At the top of my no doubt fairly long list of shortcomings/failings is that I tend to try to carry my load by myself because I don't want to bother people. On the other end of that I try and hope I succeed in doing my best to help others carry their loads. I try to be a person that you can come to me at any time and I'll listen to what's going on and do whatever I can to help relieve the heaviness of the load, most of the time that is just being there to listen. I'm notorious for any time I do open up or whatever whether you know it or not I go into a panic and immediately think why did I say that I've said to much oh I really wish I hadn't said that. It's pointless but I still do it. I admit and bring that up only because in the past couple or so weeks I have been reminded that we're not on this ride alone and it's okay to let that person(s) know hey I'm having a major in between day that is pretty dark and cloudy. Sometimes it's just nice knowing there is someone that is there not because they're just wanting gossip to have to spread, or to belittle you but to be there and help you. Sometimes when you carry so much for so long you just have a bit of a difficult time seeing the good that will come out of what is going on. Because I guess I was also reminded that to some degree everyone we know and meet is facing something or at some point will have one of those days. I also learned that apparently I am still good at hiding just how I feel, I'm still not sure if this is a good thing or not. I guess my point is that when you have these kinds of days may you always remember 1) that you matter, 2) it's okay to let others help you carry the load, 3) if you're like me may you always keep a tight hold on your faith/hope, 4) may you always hear and believe the voice of truth and not the one that can sometimes so easily tell such believable lies. Because sometimes the storm that was meant to destroy us in the end it makes the blossom that much stronger and brighter. I guess I've wrote enough but I will end with sharing a quote I read from a picture I recently saw (I unfortunately don't know who to give credit for saying this but it was well worth sharing) and that was: Never, ever tell me that 'it doesn't matter' because if it was enough to make you cry, it it hurt you that much then it does matter. Never think that you are insignificant or that your problems aren't important because you matter.

Broken Chains

I've had this story posted before...well a version of it that I recently read again and decided I would try to rewrite it, even changed the title (cause you know I am terrible with titles). I think I'm okay with this version, I just probably shouldn't read it again or I'll find something that I'll think needs worded differently but there comes a time you have to say a story is finished and let it be or there could be nothing to the story but a bunch of words. In case you never read the original version or whatever the idea of this came from a lesson in a Sunday School class and it was to write a few sentences of what Barabbas may have thought that day and the wannabe writer in me couldn't let it go at a few sentences so a few days later I wrote the more in depth story and after a few changes and this final change this is what I wrote. It's not meant to add or take away from anything, ultimately the end is my story.


Broken Chains

I opened my eyes unsure of whether it was day or night. Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure what day it was. When thinking is all you have to pass the time by  what day it is doesn’t always matter. As I stood up the tug of the chains that had me bound reminded me quickly of where I was. How long had it been since I was thrown in this prison? It was then I overheard the guards talking. They mentioned something about Passover and how Pilate would often pardon one prisoner. In fact, he was doing so today.
    I wasn’t going to start planning my first day of freedom yet. Honestly, could anyone really set me free? There were more people happy to see me rotting away in this prison cell than ones ready to see me outside among them again. Sure I may have broken a law or two. I’d probably do it again but I’m not that bad of a person and I’m certain there are people enjoying their freedom that have broken as many and even worse laws. My thoughts were interrupted as the guards dragged me out of my cell. They said they were taking me to Pilate. Could it be that I may have a chance to be pardoned after all?
    I soon found myself standing in front of a large crowd of people. I almost wanted to ask the guards to take me back as the voices of the crowd grew louder shouting about the other prisoner I was now standing beside. As I listened more closely to the crowd I could hear them saying, ‘Crucify Him! Crucify Him!’ It sounded like a riot could break out any moment. I looked at the crowd then at this man beside me. They called him Jesus and were accusing him of serious crimes and were really wanting Him to pay with his life.
    Maybe I can start planning for my first day of freedom after all. Wait, I spoke to soon because it was then I heard Pilate ask the roaring crowd what evil had this Jesus done and wouldn’t they rather just release Him. Great, I’m so close to being free yet still so far from its grasp. Oddly Jesus remained silent throughout all of this. When Pilate asked the people who they wanted released to my surprise it was my name they called out. Pilate must not have believed it either because he repeated the question and again it was my name they shouted. I couldn’t believe it, I was going to be pardoned. I must admit I was a bit upset Pilate was trying to keep me imprisoned and let Jesus go. However, I began to think of what all I had heard about Jesus. There were talks of how he had fed thousands and had even healed people. As I was thinking this I could still hear the crowd almost joyfully chanting ‘Crucify Him! Crucify Him!’ I then began to question why these people were so determined that Jesus shed his blood on a cross. Standing beside Jesus I found myself really seeing him. It was odd He was on the brink of being crucified yet He didn’t act mad or even try to get out of this. Here I was about to be released only because they hated the other guy more. I’d lived my whole life not really caring about any consequences my actions may have on my life or others. I’ve done wrong to so many yet I was walking away.
    Jesus acted like He was meant to be there. As if He was willing to die for someone He really loved. Whoever it is they must mean a lot to Him. That’s a strong love that’s willing to take the pain and agony of death by crucifixion. I wonder if they’ll appreciate it or even recognize what He’s doing? It was then I realized the guards were taking my chains off and began to push me away from Jesus and toward the crowd. As I stepped toward the angry people in the crowd I looked back at Jesus.
    I had a feeling that is still difficult to find the correct words to truly describe it but everything was finally sinking in on what had just occurred. I was trying my best to sort it out in my mind. Why in the world were they letting me go? There was no denying I was guilty of the crimes I had been sitting in that dingy cell for but what was Jesus really guilty of? Now these people were not even thinking or concerned that I was back on the streets living among them or that I could easily go back to my wicked ways. I should have been excited, or at the very least relieved, yet I still felt like a prisoner. I couldn’t help but ask myself why were they letting Jesus be beaten and crucified? He was dying for my crimes, for all of my sins. You may not believe me but it was as though He knew that too. That’s when I finally started understanding it all a little more. That was the reason Jesus didn’t speak up and defend himself, to say anything to get out of being punished by death. He really was not only dying for me but everyone. He did love me and care about me. When I understood and finally believed that, it was like I became a different person. I didn’t feel like a prisoner anymore, the chains were truly and finally coming unbound. All those chains of guilt, hate and even shame that I hadn’t even realized I was bound by were being removed.
    Some may remember that day as one that justice was served to Jesus, this man that supposedly broke the laws, but that’s not how I remember it. That day will forever be in my memory as the day Jesus, an innocent man and the Son of God, loved me enough to be crucified and I, the one that deserved that fate was set free…truly set free.
  


 I heard this song earlier today while listening to Pandora while working and thought I'd add it here just because it's a good song, I like it and well why not add it. 

Just a Number

As I was driving around today I got to thinking and if I'm honest I was thinking about weather or not to fully cross that line to frustration. With what, you may ask, and am I glad you did! I was about to get frustrated....okay, I was at the very least bothered by the number I saw when I weighed this morning. Oh, the number didn't go up but it didn't go down either. I'm stuck....but that's not exactly what I want to focus on because you see in the end that number that showed up is just that...a number.

That number doesn't tell you anything about who I really am. It doesn't accurately or completely show the outer shell of my being. Somehow we to often see that number on the scale (now why that and diet aren't considered bad words is still beyond me) and I, and maybe you too, think that defines us. Like if we were to look ourselves up in the people dictionary all that would be there is that number. I don't think that number would even make it because as stated earlier it's just a number. Who I am is so much more than that number could come close to showing. It doesn't show how I can find the corniest jokes funny, my favorite book, color or movie.  It doesn't show how often I go walking in the woods to enjoy the sounds and sights or to clear the clutter in my head. It doesn't tell you about the amazing people in my life, doesn't tell you about my faith or about my dreams. No, it's just a number. One that the scale doesn't show, or accurately show, just how I have been more conscious of if I am eating cause I am hungry or bored and how I have been exercising.
But you see I got trapped in that lie earlier today, that lie that all that I am and who I am is all in that number. I started trying to figure out what was wrong with me, what more I could do to get that number down. I hate labels and here I was labeling myself based on a number. Oh, but I am so much more...and so are you. May we get the idea of the perfect number and size out of our minds and just be the perfectly imperfect person that makes us each who we are.