Tuesday, February 26, 2008

kerosene

a girl can only say she's sorry so many times and then she just has to show you, but if you never give her the chance, you'll miss out on seeing how much she means it and just how beautiful forgiveness can be.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the fog comes in as a whispy white blanket atop the trees and lingers for days. if i stand on the back porch looking out for long enough i can remember nights when the voices of friends would bubble up behind me and the boards would creak beneath our feet and heavy laughter. our smoke trails lingering or mixing with the mist if we exhaled hard enough. sometimes forming the shapes of animals or insects in our imaginations and causing the younger of us to giggle, her eyes always sparkling, especially when we made them just for her. a butterfly from you, she'd say. a catipillar. an elephant. a moose if you dare. she'd clap and say she saw it even if the wind made it impossible. i can say i miss those nights, but i do not miss those days. the pain i carried was so deep and disheartening. unnessecary and overpowering. the night, the moon, the porch, the mist, the friends, they were my solace. my comforter. God revealing Himself in the mundane, offereing me a place of rest. a more consistant back porch experience, if you will. a way of taking those nights into the days ahead and not bearing my self-imposed baggage alone, but handing it over and not wallowing in the what's or where's or who's or how's, but enjoying the moments when what makes sense is that nothing make sense and without Him it would be impossible to bear the uncertainity that any given day may bring.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

this is she

i'm in the mood for a little self-actualization and honesty.

caitlin meadow mccarthy. age 22. 5 feet 7 inches tall. non-smoker. (the last one is still weird to say out loud). i have an extreme distaste for gummy bears. i had a bad experience once. i drink my coffee black. i've started calling God "da" because calling Him God seems far too impersonal compared to the very personal nature of our relationship as of late. i'm "this close" to being "educated." He tells me i'll be able to finish that degree someday. ever since i was little i've had a place i go to in my head. people who know me well or love me differently can tell when i go there. when i was younger Jesus would meet me there. i tried to push Him out for a while and sometimes for a split second i still try to hide. things get messy and dark during those times. He always comes back or finds me in the corner. not that He ever actually leaves or forgets where i am, but true love never forces the other person to reciprocate. the beauty is in the choosing. i can't eat taco bell without drinking mountain dew. but i think yellow number five and fast food are terrible terrible things. i often secretly want dread locks and a tattoo. or two. i move around a lot because it is all i've ever known, but it means i'm always missing someone. i don't hold on to jobs or boyfriends for longer than three years. i've never been fired, but i tend to get antsy and disenchanted with the work. and the boys. well i guess they get antsy and disenchanted with me. i have a small scar on my right wrist nobody every notices. it's from a kook of a rabbit i was holding when i was ten or so. it got scared by a donkey and scratched the living daylights out of me. i just remember laughing. and bleeding. "silly rabbit. stupid ass." is all my brother offered. it takes me a while to let people in. it takes an even longer while for me to fall in love. but i'm loyal. often to a fault. i used to have quite the temper. i'm painfully prideful. although i'm getting better. it is really more of a daily "bend my will to Yours Lord......ahhh go ahead and break it really. its the only way we're going to get around it anyhow." i talk about my tummy (and its relations) a lot, because its on the fritz 98% of my waking life. i'm secretly quite romantic and by the grace of God have remained so inspite of heartbreak and evidence contrary to romance's exsistence. however dismal, my favorite colour is grey. and i enjoy spelling both of those words that way. when i don't have time to wash my hair, i wear a hat. i genuinely enjoy each member of my family. immediate and extended. i've learned not everyone can say that. i like pillows. i want a room full of them someday. the idea of being a wife excites me. as does being a mother (both naturally and through adoption). but only when i am ready. only when He says i am ready. i stopped watching t.v. and am a better person for it. i use to not be able to peel oranges because of the way it made my fingers smell. i can now. i know how to be manipulative and i use to use it to my advantage. i feel sorry about that. i'm letting my hair go wild.

i think the thing that shocks me about all the things i just wrote down and all the things i didn't, is that the girl i was not long ago would have let them define her. or allowed others to define her because of them. i don't anymore. i'm in the proccess of embracing my quirks and recognizing my faults, because Jesus told me He loves me for (or inspite of) them. He is in me. and His glory is man fully alive.

i want to bring Him glory. i want to be fully alive.