Dear and Deep Love,

I've been beaten down, I've been kicked around, 

But somehow, love takes all of that for me.

When I loose my faith, in my darkest days, 

Love is the thing that makes it possible for me to believe Christ does.

When I want my ways, and I realize they are all in vain, 

Love is found patiently waiting.

Even when I am the same, all my mistakes and pride and shame

Love puts me back on my feet.

And when that world slows down, dear.

And when those stars burn out, here.

Love will always be there holding out through everything.

This is what people call love. 

And this true, full, and complete love, this is REAL love, and it is all I need.   

      

                                                                                               -adapted from a beautiful song by Parachute 

**********

real love means feeling more unselfish. real love means wanting them to grow. real love means seeing when they doubt. 

real love is forgiveness after years of hurt. real love is noticing I was in the wrong. real love is red even when missing them was grey and losing them was blue.

real love means starting over. real love means never giving up. real love means accepting that things are going to change. real love is loving them through all of it. real love is trusting someone with every part of me.

real love means knowing hurt. real love means never wanting them to. real love sometimes means hurting them to prevent further or greater hurt. real love is supressing urges to do things I know would hurt them. real love is trying my best at self control. real love is prioritizing. real love is being willing to. real love is doing what I need instead of what I want. real love means loving someone even when I don't like them.

real love is painful. real love makes me put up walls. real love is beautiful. real love makes me knock those walls down. 

*********

But I'm bad at real love. Everyone is. Because we are human. We only get parts of it. 

But we try. And when I do, or I see that someone else does, that makes all the difference.

-clo

outside the garden of gethsemane, jerusalem, israel

Dear Facebook Generation,

I sometimes feel like we get a lot of smack. Facebook discourages social interaction. Facebook wastes too much time. Yeah yeah yeah. It's all probably true. But I think that perhaps below the complex layers of posting status hides deep desires of human beings: perhaps we all simply cling to the potential that it brings for us to "put ourselves out there." An innate desire to be understood. To be empathized with. To share. To want to tell someone how our day went.

This afternoon, I had a very intense scare as I looked into my cup of seemingly plain "fruit at the bottom" yogurt and thought that I had been lied to. My next thought was to make a Facebook status that went something like this: "It's one of those days where your fruit doesn't show up in your fruit-at-the-bottom yogurt and you are terrified that everything good in the world has been pulled from you." Because I knew it would be "liked." I knew people would understand what I meant.

Supposedly Taylor Swift has a line from a poem that she reminds herself of in her saddest moments, when she needs to know that someone else had felt that exact same way. That's a very beautiful thought, if you think about it. That we like knowing we aren't the only ones that have felt the way we feel then. It's ironic, because that's mostly the reason I listen to T-Swift at all. Because everyone experiences the same kind of stuff when they fall in love and when they break up. And perhaps the human mind simply needs to know that they aren't the only ones who feel.

Love you all, chloemichelle

Dear Connections,

I don't believe the world was meant to be lived through five-paragraph-essays, although I see the point they are trying to make.

Could it be that life is that structured? That I will grow up, go to college, get a job, be a mom in a successful, well-off home?

What if I think life is more creative than that? More beautiful then the expectation. What if I want to adopt children when I move to Cambodia? Is that allowed too? Or is continuing the system really what life is all about? Is being here, close to my parents, something I will always have? Will I ever find the lifestyle that fits me? Because I am starting to get the feeling that I don't know where I am headed. One of my very closest friends, Hannah, has a theory about multiple intelligences and she gets upset every time she talks about people who aren't really meant for this kind of school system.....and I'm starting to wonder if she is right. Perhaps I was not designed to write essays. . . . . . . . . . . . .but it's been a very long week. Who knows? Literally. When someone else figures my life-plan out for me, let me know. Until then, my friends, I'm going to keep chuggin' along,

trying to figure out where I want to be.

-chloemichelle

Dear Midterms,

Finals I can handle. No school. Just thinking time. 

You, midterms, come without warning, strike where it hurts, and when it's most inconvenient.

And then you see your best friend in the midst of writing an overwhelming paper and run into your other close friend randomly and you ditch your homework to people watch on campus and think "this is what halloween was MADE for" and then get a text to get free cookies and hot chocolate and get your fortune told by this super spiritual Asian guy and you then stop for a second and realize how impossibly giddy you are and smile to yourself and breathe:

Life is good. 

So take that, midterms! You can leave me the heck alone.

------------

On a more positive Halloween note: my roommates and I had a party. Baked for like 24 hours straight. Can I just say how incredibly awesome we are for having nothing better to do on the weekends than bake desserts together? Rachel and I got in a really intense discussion at 1:00AM the other night talking about how amazing the girls we live with are and how they make us grow. Aka: BEST RANDOM ROOMMATES EVER! 

-------------------

OH! and in the spirit of Halloween, my roommates and I all participated in running races. Katie ran the farthest she's ever run in her life. So proud! I got chased by zombies. :) What more do you need?

Dear Trust,

"When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, Lord, abide with me...
Change and decay in all around I see,
O Thou who changest not, abide with me."

                                                  -Henry F. Lyte

Dear Doggy,

        Today puppy and I had a little bonding moment. I felt bad that he cowered when I closed the door of the shower, but I audibly told him that it was his own fault. I continued talking to him the whole time, wishing that he could understand my reassurances. It's funny, really, that I felt so bad for making him uncomfortable considering that I don't even like him. He and I aren't friends. Many years of experience has lead me to conjure the idea that he and I just don't understand each other. I guess you could say it's classical conditioning that causes my brain, as he is inclosing on me through every opening of the front door, to recall all of the times he's licked me after I told him not to. And I just don't think that is a healthy relationship. He refuses to be cuddly, I refuse to let him lick me, and such is our life. Sometimes I try; especially considering I had to go an hour out of my way to bathe him after he ran through who knows what in the field.
          It was pretty cool, though, I must admit, to have a parental/divine-love-for-you-when-I-make-you-do-something-you-don't-want-to-but-that-is-good-for-you feeling towards him for a brief moment. Only, God always loves us. Even when He banishes us downstairs. (I'm not sure I can say the same for Indy.) And God always claims us as His. (Indy is definitely still Ben's dog.) I'll try not to judge him, though; I play with skunks in my life too. So thanks to all those who have ever had to clean me up afterwards. Especially God. For loving me. Even when I disappoint Him.
          And for giving me occasions that make me change my heart. I hope that they are making me more like Him.


          :D   I wonder if He ever doesn't like us.........

Dearest Friends,

I remember the Turkish rain becoming a solid sheet against our bus, making the window scene blurry. It was a day where I was figuring things out. Things were shifting. It was also the day I became friends with Hannah. I wrote her this song on that bus ride:

Hannah stirs below my head

so I lift my off her shoulder.
Wakin' up to a brand new world

don't know if we've crossed the border.

But the familiar beats of this road and these streets

make it seem like it's getting closer.

Closer to feeling like home.

Hannah cries and I cry.

Hannah smiles and I smile,

as she calls out my name. 

Are things, slowly, starting to change?

She is now one of the very closest people in my life. "Literally." :) Things are again changing. She has decided to go on a mission. So, time is now kind of short. I thought I would be really upset. I thought I would be sick of saying goodbye to the people I love. But this feels right. I couldn't be more proud to know the person that is Hannah Joy Rackham. 

I guess in a way I kind of knew hers was coming. Rachel's, on the other hand, came to me as a surprise. She and I are so similar...it's like part of me is leaving. It's strange how close two random strangers can become. Two very blessed random strangers. But my new favorite thing is watching her get excited every time she talks about her decision. I love her pure, natural, raw smile. Her happiness for the good in life. 

Dearest, dearest friends. How blessed I am. -CMS