Flying down 101 just a little to fast, and the speed is reassuring. No time to let my fear convince me to turn around, now. City lights behind me, highway infront of me; I am infinite.

Fog clutching hill, crawling dangerously towards me, and this is were I become a little nervous. White surrounds me, creating an empty canvas I can now imagine anything up on.

With slight hesitation the gas peddle becomes a close friend, and I press into it with an unseen fearceness. That of which is infront of me becomes a road leading to you as I morph all the street signs into arrows pointing your way.

Your face looks good on the billboards.

Yet (and here is were I am dumbfounded), appraisal and pride is accredited in those that seemingly lack fear. People without hesitation seem to be the one's recognized. Because one is able to accomplish a task before another, does that make them more couragious?

I don't think so.

Courage is being frightened more thank anything in the world, but having the heart to continue on anyways. It's being able to put aside what quickens your pulse, draws sweat to your forehead, your throat to close, and your thoughts to become sour, so that you can accomplish something monumentally impossible to you as an individual.

Why have we made it into a race? Why has courage become defined by who is less afraid, or accomplishes it faster.

If one is able to stand up and fight their own dark, why should it matter if another did the same with less doubt, or at a faster rate. If light is turned on in a dark place, does it matter who turned it on, or how, for for then it is no longer dark.

Shinning when you believe your flame to be dim is courage.

Courage is courage is courage. Don't tell someone they are not as brave, or as capable because it took them a little longer, or a little more, to finally realize that they can be a light in the darkest of nights.

Do you point out the quality of their fire to illuminate yours that is diminishing?

and you stayed inside to bide yourself some time to think of reasons to get rid of me.

Funny how it's over and I'm still here stuck on the same street.

And now that I really take the time to part the waters

and examine the creaters lurking underneath,

I can see that you were waiting for me to drown.

I refuse to scream for help.

So use up all my oxygen; blue looks good on me anyways.

And I swear I feel like plastic when I stare into your eyes.

The weight off all you've done to cover up who you've become

hides beautifully behind your thick lashed eyes.

You're such a doll.

So go ahead and feed me another lie, another line.

I like it when you're fake with me... what's a little make believe ?

And I swear it is so seductive when you call me baby becuase you've forgotten my name.

It's kind of sexy... being anyone.

Who were you thinking of this time? Did I play her well?

And when you showed me your hand,

I ran in fear from your blood on me (It’s all over me).

I know I can’t change the truth,

But after all these years I’ve had time to practice my deceitful performance.

I hate to disappoint,

But that’s all I’m really good for.

I betrayed myself for a couple of coins,

Knowing I couldn’t save anything (especially myself).

And while you were dieing,

Taking your last,

I wasn’t the one asking to go with you.

Because I was scared (I’m really scared).

Forgive me, for I know what I do to you.

I’m a tragic metaphor to death,

Just not to myself, or anything that rescues.

It took three days for the dust to settle,

But I still can’t see where I’m going,

And this bondage has started to feel good.

I mean, it’s what I deserve.

So hand me my millstone, and I’ll be one my way to the nearest lake (You should’ve let me drown).

What an amazing grace I should have been left out of.

My eyes were opened, and I soon wondered back to the dark.

The crow has crowed three times,

But I’ve already denied you seven.

And I am no rock to build anything on.

So why won’t your blood wash off?

Because really, I am not one you can depend on.

And when the darkness surrounds as I am down and out,

With two minutes to go until my heart implodes from weakness,

I can’t say I’ll stay and let you be my strength.

I’m not at all easy to hold onto,

So why fool ourselves into believing I’m worth anything to all…

All these candles have gone out around me,

And I know my light is too insignificant to stand up this monumental dark.

I can’t see past this Goliath of a problem,

And I’m lost on the frontlines of this battle.

An enemy behind private lines; dressed in your colors.

But I’ve forgotten what I’m fighting for, and will be just another casualty.

My heart is no place for someone like you to live.

All I have are these arteries clogged from all I’ve done (and I’ve done it all).

I’m weary and am in need of rest,

But I’m afraid my burdens are just a little too heavy for you to carry.

And I know I am good at running,

But it feels so bad to be alone.

And if you promise to save, then please save.

Because I do not wish to be the bearer of any such mark (I am not the keeper of myself).

And we both know I’m scared of everything you have given me,

But I’m scared of giving up…

Cause I’ve given up and it hurts.

So if you let me, I’ll take it back and wait to be found.

Two and a half years wasted. Well, nothing of the Lord comes back void, but gosh, what have I been doing? Two and a half years I have proclaimed myself a Christ follower, but never have I truly treaded on the narrow path Jesus calls us to. I have lived in the world, when I have stated publicly to not be of it. I have run down the wide path when things have gotten tough, and now I stand, completely ugly and disgusting. I repulse myself.

It's storming, inside my mind and out. It has been said that nature reflects the natural order of things. Ironic, isn't it, that my heart is beating faster than flashes of lightening and blood is coursing through me faster then the vicious waves crashing. Now that I have rolled down the back window in the attic of my mind, I can see the frightening cob webs and overwhelming dust for what it truly is: a distraction from what I am capable of.

I am guilty. Guilty of being disturbed; a sinner. That is the definition of my life. I can't take it anymore. I won’t. I can no longer hold onto the remnants of my past. When I hold onto it tightly, it leaves painful impressions in the palm of my hands. It's with me. It is me, and I am no longer any different than the person I was before I knew Christ.

Who am I to refuse to be the new creation Christ has willed me to be?

I can taste it on my lips and feel it course through my veins. Its coming: a wild storm that will blow away and cause destruction to the life that I once claimed as my own. Salt is heavy in the air. The ocean spray is traveling father inland, causing everything to taste of the mysterious sea. And just as I lick the salt from my now chapped lips, thirsting for water, I thirst for knowing God. I thirst for knowing and seeing His heart.

So I wait on the cliff, grasping onto the rusted railing that separates me from plummeting through foggy air into rock and sand and sea. But it's coming. Just as I can see the weight of wave crashing on rock, beating the life out of solid ground, I know my time is coming. The Lord disciplines those He loves, and it is time for me to own up to that perverse dealings I swam in, even after proclaiming myself a follower of the Prince of Peace.

This is going to hurt. I don't think I can even imagine the weight of my consequence. It will be more than the waves spilling over the side of the cliffs, threatening to drag me to sea. I am going to have to deal with the things in my life that I have messed up. I am going to be broken down- completely dismantled from the person I once was.

And while I watch the waves breaking below me, feeling the remnants of the crash spray my face causing me to shiver hysterically, I can't help but smile because I know He is faithful. I know that no matter what happens now, I want complete separation from the life I lived. I want to feel the narrow path beneath my feet.

So I stand, completely naked before the Lord. And I am free.

So I ask myself, Do I run because I am afraid, or am I afraid because I run.

I think it is that later. I conitually find myself running, causing the limbs and muscles in my legs to ache and scream in pain, but  I won't slow down and the only time I ever stop, or relieve myself from that constant state of moving and not seeing, is when I crash blindly into God.

I hate that I run. I hate that I run for no reason. Because really, I have no right or reason to run. I have love. I have freedom. I have salvation. I have life. Everlasting life. And I can't seem to wrap my mind around it, or slow down long enough to see the glorious and beautiful world God has created around me. I seem to be dwelling on my own disease and self-destruction and inadequacy. It's not right of me.

It's not fair of me... to myself or to God. But I can't seem to shake this raw and harsh need to run.

I think I run because I know I am volnurable. Because I can't take one more person running out of my life, or leaving me, or telling me how much they wish I am not who I am. I can't take that kind of heart ache again. And I am so afraid that He will do that. I am so afraid that one day, He will all of a sudden realise just how worthless and undeserving that I am and no longer love me.

Logically, I know this won't happen. I know that He is an everlasting and unconditional love. I've felt it. I've seen it. I know it. But I don't feel it now.

I just really need to believe in the promises God has made to me.

I have to stop believing everyone but the originater of truth.

I want, no, need to be craddled in the arms of God Himself.

Actually, for longer than two years, trips have been made back and forth between house and hospital. I don't know anymore.Receantly, just these past couple of months, he has only progressively gotten worse. I for sure thought my dad would get better. I prayed about it. Those I needed and cared about the most prayed, too.

Countless precedures have been made. My dad is tired. He can barely keep down his meals, has had surgery, blood transfusions, proscribed medicines whose names I can't even begin to pronounce. Fear and exhaustion has become permantely etched into his face, creasing his forhead and giving him the appearance of someone much older than he is. His complection is a gray color. He is waisting away before my eyes. I'm scared, and I can't fight back this awful feeling that this is not going to be the happy ending I imagined. Im terrified that he's not going to become well again, and instead, continue to decline until...

I pray that is not what will happen.

I can't help but be completely terrified that the man who has been my father for 17 years- my protector, provider, and friend, could leave me. I'm not ready to let him go. Not now. And that's just it. I have to be. His tomorrow is not gauranteed. Not like mine. So I have to be ready. I am being forced to grow up, suck it up, get over it... become numb. Because if I don't, I mean, try to surpress this feeling, then I could feel, and that, right now, would be the worst thing possible. So I am trying... I mean honestly trying to ignore this sad inclination. Denial has become my best friend. Keep smiling and pretend that him leaving is no possibility at all. Keep running away, Ari. Keep running.

But lately, what I've been running from seems to keep on catching up to me, and I don't think my legs can hold out for that much longer.

I don't think my heart can either.

I can't handle this. Not on my own. God, what is this? Why? I can't see your idea in this. Your plan is lost to me.

The other day, a friend said that it might be in God's plan that my dad does not become well again. I'm trying to cope with that. I'm trying to understand. But I can't. It's to hard. I'm not ready to lose him. 

 I hurt.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkPq0SMWG5o

-Dennis W. Felty (a.k.a- a really good photgrapher. Check him out.)

there's a horrible ache in my gut and the vile it turning in my throat.

- Michael Yaconelli

It felt like freedom.

Dark clouds took the sky by storm, causing splotches of navy to appear against a backdrop of coral orange and fiery red. It was... beautiful. As I was paused at a prolonged stop light, my breath unexplainably became sharper. Every intake of oxygen was shorter and quick. I took one last long glane into the vast seeming ocean, and for a moment, I felt like Peter Pan.

lame? yeah. I know. But, wow.

               I want to be able to forget all aspects of time. I want to lose myself. I want to exist. I want to embody love. I want so much. All my dreams, memories, and experiences occupy my time, always yelling at me and demanding for attention. It is at concerts, through music, that one can completely forget everything and loose themselves in a melody of truth. As each cord of the bass guitar is plucked, my senses are heightened, my feet itching to increase their mileage, and I'm taking deep breaths. I'm ready to run.

            A chorus of people pushes up towards the stage, body touching body. The crowd is one big wave of heat, colliding and crashing into me. I’m standing in a crowded room, seeing faces that will soon blur into colors when I look back and try to remember the event. I’m intimately close with people I don’t know, allowing them into my personal bubble- a space not even some of my closest friends are allowed to enter. Everything about concerts is one big contradiction. Though the tickets have been sold, and space has been maxed out, the lights go on, the drummer starts smashing wood unto plastic, and I am alone.

            Blood is replaced by beats, and music starts pumping through my veins. The speakers lie to the left of my ear, two inches of air separating me from them. My insides begin to vibrate. The chorus is causing my stomach to shake and tremble as the reverberating harmony pushes at my rib cage, rattling my mind and causing my peripheral line of vision to blur. With each loud crash of symbols, and angst ridden line of the song is sung, thoughts are one by one replaced with the lead singer’s voice. This continues until I can no longer decipher my own memory from a poetic line.

            The ground is wavering from the impact of thousands of feet swaying and stepping, making it appear the ground might fall from under my very feet. At this moment, I take flight. It’s not an illusion, oh no. It is truth. My mind defies gravity as it soars through thought after though, memory after memory and emotion after emotion until I can no longer tell the difference between fantasy and reality. Did that really happen? Does it matter? Times stops, the once seemingly importance of having life figured out leaves. I’m replaced with reassurance and hope whilst watching hand attack cord, lips open and close, and sweat bead down the bodies of those around me.

            Music is not a form of entertainment. Music is a therapy. It is not about the genre, or who is singing it, but fairly, how it moves you. Music is meant to make you feel everything at once, and yet, nothing at all. It is like George Orwell’s interesting idea of doublethink. Doublethink is the talent of holding two contradictory thoughts in one’s mind at the same time. At concerts, through music, this is achieved. The stress of doing life right and being perfect melts away until I simply exist. Just exist. All expectation is gone and I am.

I should have wrote all these feelings down sooner. It's hard to pull such memories from my own mind now.

I'm sitting in my photography class at the moment. I sould be looking up black and white portfolios, but I can't. I can't think right now. Can't process anything. I am just here. Just here, taking up space, unable to think. It's like my mind is void of any vaild thoughts and I have lost a part of me that I used to charish. Or maybe that little girl inside of me is just sleeping. I'm not sure anymore.

I guess, right now, all I can say is that I was deathly afriad that once I returned back to California from my mission trip, I would be no different- just the same ari that plagued the earth and had no purpose, or rather, a purpose she refused to fufill. It's hard to admitt that I am desperately clinging onto what I learned and went through this summer so I don't lose myself in familiarity and lies.

I regret to say that I am not moving forward. Nor am I even moving backwords. Time has stopped and I am at a stand still.

I need to break free.

I need healing.

I find it hard to accurately describe the tantalizing captivity the ocean holds over me. It's weird, this feeling. Something obscure and incomprehensible tugging at my sould, beckoning me to lose all innner thoughts to a mysterious pallet of blues, greens, browns and grays that sway nauseously like a ballet corp.

It was there that today I found something... or maybe lost something? I'm not to sure yet.

As I layed outstretched upon the sand, welcoming the gritty texture of decomposing sediments, a thought flittered across my mind so fast, I for sure thought it would leave as fast as it came... but it stayed with me and is weighing heavily upon my heart. I'm not even sure how to explain it, but I'll give it a try.

Every time I go to the beach, I know it is because a begrudgingly ugly and disgusting thought or action needs to be analyzed. This type of picking apart of ones self is so unbelievably... hard. Just hard. The waves beautiful symphany lulls me into a place of acceptance and tranquility as I let my mind and soul fight over what was and what has come to pass.

It is but a week before I am to leave on a one month trip of pouring out and sharing God's love... and I don't know how to do it. Am I capable of doing it? Here I am, believing in God, but it is not nearly enough. God did not call us to believe it Him. He called us to follow Him, and for the past couple of weeks, I have chosen to lead my own life, and it is going to the dogs. I'm watching history repeat itself. I know how to stop the vile cycle, but am to transfixed by the mysterious waves of the world.

I have scarcely picked up my bible and actually had quiet time with God. I am mean, and instigatting dreadful situations for not only myself, but others- as well as falling apart at the seams due to my own selfishness. I've sat ready, waiting for the opportune moment to shove my finger down my thraot and rid my stomach of it's contants because of my own insecurity, and I've let my imagination travel into desperate cornors of my own mind- ones I am to ashamed to let other people know I have thought about or done.

It's like the ocean is my world. Grotesque waves smash upon my ground, beckoning me to play in a pool of water with deciving undertoes ready to snatch me up and let me drown.

I know the water is going to be cold.. no, freezing, but I let it lure me into a false sense of security and put a foot in. Why do I act shocked when the ferverous cold creeps into my bone. The knowledge was there, but easily dismissed. So I sit there, mentally slapping myself for placing my foot into the water, yet failing to simply pull it out.

Soon my foot grows numb and I can't feel. I place my left foot in, following step, and repeat, until my whole body is submerged... and I forgot I don't know how to swim. So I quietly drown, putting up a pathetic fight, all the while honestly wondering how I allowed myself to get so deep.

Where do I go from there? I don't know how to get out of this one. I can't argue my way from this. No one is to blame but me. And here I am, still drowning, wishing I would've taken the swimming lessons my father offered me.

Utterly screwed comes to mind- as well as unworthy to resurface for air. Maybe I should let myself drown.

And when I think this, I only sink faster.

Why am I not putting my whole effort into following Christ. What am I scared of? I squawk like a bird when it comes to what I should be doing to save the world and how humanity fails miserably at helping others.

I can complain and wine all I want at the down fall of man, but I will get no where until I face the facts.

I am my own fault.

I am the reason why man is bad. It is me. Can one be so scared of their own reflection? Why am I letting the worldly image of me hold back who I am in Christ.

Am I so scared of being alone?

Will I be able to pull it together in time enough to tell God's children about the amazing love story of God, whilst convincing myself that amungst all the bad I have committed, I am forgiven. There's no rocks to hide under. Just me, and waves tossing my mind around, picking apart my motives.

Have I really allowed myseld to become so absorbed in what has happened with my these last couple of months that I have become something I dread- a zombie with heaven in their head and hell in their heart?

No, I refuse to walk away any further than I already have. Maybe I just needed to get this off my chest first. Maybe I needed to be the bigger person an admitt this somewhere other then an afterthought to a stupid decision. Is this a start? I don't know, but it is something.

Okay Ari, the choice is yours: continue to walk the direction you are going, and you will end up in your own grave. Or, turn around, and allow yourself to be carried by the creator of all things.

I want to do a 360, I do. I need to get over this fear of messing up and being unable to go back to the Father for forgiveness. I need to stop trying to swim without my flotation devices. Otherwise, I will sink faster than the titanic.

So here I go. I need to fall away from the past.

Father God, please, grant me the strength to do this. I beseech you, Father. There is something I have done. Father, there is so much I have done and said that by no means can be undone. I ask for forgiveness. My creator, create in me a heart worthy of being called Yours.

Certainly these are great words, words lifted to cosmic proportions. And over the centuries, many persons have argued that this is an extremely difficult command. Many would go so far as to say that it just isn’t possible to move out into the actual practice of this glorious command. They would go on to say that this is just additional proof that Jesus was an impractical idealist who never quite came down to
earth. So the arguments abound. But far from being an impractical idealist, Jesus has become the practical realist. The words of this text glitter in our eyes with a new urgency. Far from being the pious injunction of a utopian dreamer, this command is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. Yes, it is love that will save our world and our civilization, love even for enemies.

Now let me hasten to say that Jesus was very serious when he gave this command; he wasn’t playing. He realized that it’s hard to love your enemies. He realized that it’s difficult to love those persons who seek to defeat you, those persons who say evil things about you. He realized that it was painfully hard, pressingly hard. But he wasn’t playing. And we cannot dismiss this passage as just another example of
Oriental hyperbole, just a sort of exaggeration to get over the point. This is a basic philosophy of all that we hear coming from the lips of our Master. Because Jesus wasn’t playing; because he was serious. We have the Christian and moral responsibility to seek to discover the meaning of these words, and to discover how we can live out this command, and why we should live by this command.

Now first let us deal with this question, which is the practical question: How do you go about loving your enemies? I think the first thing is this: In order to love your enemies, you must begin by analyzing self. And I’m sure that seems strange to you, that I start out telling you this morning that you love your enemies by beginning with a look at self. It seems to me that that is the first and foremost way to come to an
adequate discovery to the how of this situation.

Now, I’m aware of the fact that some people will not like you, not because of something you have done to them, but they just won’t like you. I’m quite aware of that. Some people aren’t going to like the way you walk; some people aren’t going to like the way you talk. Some people aren’t going to like you because you can do your job better than they can do theirs. Some people aren’t going to like you because other people like you, and because you’re popular, and because you’re well-liked, they aren’t going to like you. Some people aren’t going to like you because your hair is a little shorter than theirs or your hair is a little longer than theirs. Some people aren’t going to like you because your skin is a little brighter than theirs; and others aren’t going to like you because your skin is a little darker than theirs. So that some people aren’t going to like you. They’re going to dislike you, not because of something that you’ve done to them, but because of various jealous reactions and other reactions that are so prevalent in human nature...

you want to be integrated with yourself, and the way to be integrated with yourself is be sure that you meet every situation of life with an abounding love. Never hate, because it ends up in tragic, neurotic responses. Psychologists and psychiatrists are telling us today that the more we hate, the more we develop guilt feelings and we begin to subconsciously repress or consciously suppress certain emotions, and they all stack up in our subconscious selves and make for tragic, neurotic responses. And may this not be the neuroses of many individuals as they confront life that that is an element of hate there. And modern psychology is calling on us now to love. But long before modern psychology came into being, the world’s greatest psychologist who walked around the hills of Galilee told us to love. He looked at men and said: "Love your enemies; don’t hate anybody." It’s not enough for us to hate your friends because—to to love your friends—because when you start hating anybody, it destroys the very center of your creative response to life and the universe; so love everybody. Hate at any point is a cancer that gnaws away at the very vital center of your life and your existence. It is like eroding acid that eats away the best and the objective center of your life. So Jesus says love, because hate destroys the hater as well as the hated.

Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, "Love your enemies." It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. That’s why Jesus says, "Love your enemies." Because if you hate your enemies, you have no way to redeem and to transform your enemies. But if you love your enemies, you will discover that at the very root of love is the
power of redemption. You just keep loving people and keep loving them, even though they’re mistreating you. Here’s the person who is a neighbor, and this person is doing something wrong to you and all of that. Just keep being friendly to that person. Keep loving them. Don’t do anything to embarrass them. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with bitterness because they’re mad because you love them like that. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So love your enemies.

I had STAR testing today, and as I sat in math class waiting for everyone to complete the test(I hate math), I plugged in and turned up. I got lost in my ipod <3 and just thought. Truly thought. I contemplated who I am and why God made me this way. I was so deeply lost in why I thought that way I do, and why I act the way I act... and why I let things get to me the way they do.

Life is so complicated. I know, thank you captain obvious, right? But lately, I've really been noticing it; just how complex we as a whole really are. I feel like life is going to break me clear into two peices. Would that be a bad thing? Maybe I need to realize that even though I am broken and scarred... that I'm still beautiful in God's eyes.

I don't understand why it is so hard for me to admitt that I believe I am unworthy of being loved. Last night, after the concert... after hearing Moi talk and sing about the unconditional love of God... I just felt like running up to someone, giving them a hug, and crying. I wanted to cry because I hate that I haven't been loving me... I hate that I don't know how to. I never did though... I didn't know who to go to. It was hard. All I wanted to do was loose myself, I wanted to tell someone, but I didn't have the courage.

I started talking to Craig... but for some reason, I couldn't say how I am truly feeling. I just kinda chocked on my own words. The good news? Last night, writing about it... it was a huge release for me. I am proud that I did bring it before God. That took such a great effort! I hate letting people see me when I'm weak... I'm to prideful, and I need to let it go. Going before God and confessing that I'm unhappy with who I am and I just can not understand why anyone would love me...

Well, lets just say that when I came to my senses, something in my heart really did change. Don't get me wrong, it's not like wam, bam, boom, I am all loving and all my problems have gone away, but it's getting easier to deal with. It just helps to know that no matter what, I really do have God on my side, and with Him, I can never lose. That just makes all the difference.

I want to change the world... I guess I'll have to start with myself, huh?

God... I'm yours...

15 years each way,

I think I feel safe.

And when they find I have something to say,

I hope they see straight through me, to what I really mean.

And, yes I feel it in my heart.

And nothing else can make me feel this way...

Here I am, here I am.

I am home.

I think I lost my way somehow, and now I know they way to go.

I thought about it so many times,

But here I am... and I feel fine.

And yes, I feel it in my heart.

And nothing else could make me feel this way.

Oh, here I am. Oh, here I am.

I am home, atlast.

here I am. Oh, here I am.

This barricade, of baracade, it's falling down.

It's falling down.

And nothing can compare to the way that,

to the way that I feel when I am here...

Moi, seriously one of the best bands ever, came all the way down here to play at my church. It was... stirring, amazing, inspirational? They just have something more, you know? Don't get me wrong, Moi has a beautiful voice, and Daly and Matt and Daly's lil bro (I'm really sorry, but his name just does not ring a bell) are truly musically gifted... but it's not necessarily that which makes them an incredible band... it's their passion for Christ and passion for understanding others that makes them as wonderful as they really are. I feel really blessed that they came out here and shared the evening with me and my church.

It was like having a little peice of Hume when I needed it the most.

Emotionally, there is so much going on right now. I can't even pin point what it is, and why it is effecting me the way it is... but I've been sincerly struggling with who I am and what I am here for... what I am good at.

I have set so many goals for myself, I can't keep track anymore. I've been letting my insecurities control my life, and it has put me at a really low place. I'm so scared of letting everyone down. I'm so afraid of failing. I know I should only be worrying about what it is that He thinks, and how I can please Him, but that is not where my mind set has been. I would by lying if I said I truly have been trying to live up to my full potential in Christ.

I guess you can say that tonight, I had some what of a small epiphany. I have always had trouble with comparing myselfs to others, and letting my insecurities dictate what I do and what I am capable of. Tonight, as Moi was speaking of God's unconditional love, I felt like crying. I felt like trying just breaking myseld open and exposing myself raw before God.

At Hume, I honestly did make the commitment of trusting God completely. Coming back from Hume, for a while, it was easy and I could do it. But as things kept getting hurled at me, and the tests got harder... I began to trip more frequently. I hate it. I hate dissapointing others... but moreover, I just feel horrible when I dissapoint God.

It's so hard to lay down one's pride and realize we're not perfect. My want for perfection is useless and selfish. Who am I helping by constantly worrying about whether or not I am pleasing another? It is an audience of one. I say it all the time... but I really need to start listening to it.

So, I have decided to take life one step at a time. I need to allow God to work on me, on peice at a time, instead of asking that he would change me all at one.

Right now, I really need to work on my ability to love. I need to let people love me. I need to actually believe that I am worth something, that I can be loved, and I should be loved. How am I trusting God if I don't listen to Him when He says I am significant.

It's easy to make up excuses, but it's time to stop lying to myself. No matter how much I have been hurt, or convinced that I am unloveable, well, does that really matter? At the end of the day, I am a creation of God, not the world. I have an all knowing Father that created me uniquely and I need to see the beauty He has created in me.

Maybe this sounds silly, but I think I need to get up in the morning, and as I'm getting ready to start my day, thank God that He made me the way He did. I need to be thankful that I was created in His image and that He loves me even though I am not perfect.

Though this seems like something that should be  extremely obvious, I feel like I just jumped one hurtle that has been thrown in my path. It's some sort of small accomplishment.

-ari

p.s. Check out the band The Cinematics. They were an opener for the Mute Math concert I went to and are sooo good. I was listening to their CD while I wrote this =)

I desperately need to speak with someone, but, yet again, I am at a loss for words. I am so laquacious, but never say enough. It's annoying. Today, I had coffee with my youth leader, someone I usually tell everything to: what's bothering me, what I'm struggling with, and what's on my mind. I began to open up to him, but when it came down to it, I kept my mouth shut, fearing that he too would be disappointed in me like everyone else I know.

The truth is... I'm a liar. I am struggling so bad. I feel like I'm scarcely hanging on.

I've been walking aroun with a cloud following overhead, raining non-stop, and I purposely left my umbrella at home. I feel stupid. I feel insecure. I feel like I am just one leggo used to build this leggo castle, someone pulled me out, and just shrugged their shoulders and said, "oh well, I got another one."

Completely replaceable. Frustrated. Inapt.

I am trying to hard to stand by the commitements I made. I am terrified of failing. I am wrestling with myself, and I'm getting tired.

I've turned against myself. Or, well, it feels that way. Sell-out to the max.

I'm under pressure to find just one thing that I am good at, and it has been a long search with horrible results. I feel nothing short of inadequate. I've found that I am easily forgotten.

Mission St. 9:00 am.

I sit waiting at a bus stop in San Francisco. To my left lays a sky rise, to my right, the city's latest construction project. It is but nine am, and the city if boiling with life. Jack hammers and buses are a constant noise, spilling into my ears a depriving my head of any chance of clearity. Already, I am sucked into an entoxicating world, easily lost to the small city I left behind. Pigeons, used to human contact and limited space, loitre the city side walks, diligently scrounging for scraps. The city bus comes rolling down the narrow streets, tires squeaking and people rushing. Rushing. Hastily trying to get their day started, man has clocked in. Now, it is an all out war to acompolish the unacomplishable before night falls and the day ends. haha. Good luck.

It is as if they are stuck in fast forward, ceasing to pause and truely see what is happening around them. They're stuck in a cylcle. Wake up, work, sleep, wake up, work, sleep. A never ending cycle, trying to find the end. Do they not see that a circle has no end? It's ongoing. Maybe they missed the memo?

Ahead of me lies a rather large Sam Trams bus, daring the bold to enter and drown in the diverse ecstasy San Francisco's back alleys have to offer. I myself am tempted... but then I would be unable to adress what lays behind me: the forgotten. Behing me, men and women alike sit waiting. They have no concept of time, nothing to persaude them their life is worth living for. They sit waiting paitently for a day inwhich they can be acknowledged... A day when they are allowed to exsist.

Coming into the city, I was told to never look any homeless person in the eye. But what if... what if I actually did? What if I chose to actually see them, and better yet, what if I let them know I saw them? What if I was forced to see the tragedy man has let befall upon brother? "Don't look, Ari. Never look- they might expect it from everyone else."

The reality is, they cried out for help, and we pretended not to hear. We let them end up this way, stuck in a constant state of half-living, the fear of whether or not they will live through the night never leaving their thoughts. Man does what he does best, shrink back into himself and ignore.

We are quick to judge, quick to accuse, quick to blame such sorrow on anyone but ourselves. "Well, isn't it obvious Ari, they chose this lifestyle. We could do nothing to help. They wanted this." BULL! How could anyone truely wish this upon themselves???? Are we so afraid as to admit that they are broken and need help? Or is the real reason we refuse a helping hand because then it would mean we would have to admit we are just as broken? You, who are trying to fill an empty void by voluntarily get lost in cycles of work, and drugs and drinks and sex in hopes of forgetting. You keep busy to forget who you are, and they long to remember.

We deny them even that...

Market St. 10: 33

We constantly force the homeless to relive the moment their world fell apart. Man treats them like a stray dog. "Never feed them, never cloth them, and for God's sake, never love them because Lord help us if they ever come back for more!" Man dehumanizes the homeless, forgetting they have feelings and compares them to rats; filth. We worry of no one but ourselves, undoing the studies of Copernicus, becoming our own sun and expecting everything and everyone to revolve around us.

Market St. 3: 58

I ventured further down Market until I reached the tenderloin. I have no idea how I got there, but I did. I don't think I have been called white-girl quiet so much in just one hour (7 times, for the record). Admittedly, I began to get scared, so I turned around.

It's insane, the human tragedy that lives outside our house, playing in our backyard. Why didn't we see it coming? Wrong question. Why didn't we do anything to prevent it? I can't even imagine what it would be like; concrete my bed, darkness my blanket. I pitty the homeless. Fear is written on their face, desperation shown in the lines that adorn their faces. I wonder if they saw it coming? I wondered if they tried to stop it?

I close my eyes, the city noise consuming my soul, and I swear I can hear them cry out. I swear. Men and women alike, different in nationalities, sex and experiences are joined by one thing- to the world, they are faceless. It is human nature to want. And while the majority of the world worries about when the newest cell phone is going to come out, and whether or not they are going to be able to buy that ipod, the homeless wait for a loving hand to rescure them, hoping that love could some how save them.

Out of curiosity, Alice jumped down the rabbit hole, and now she's struck the bottom. How do you help her find her way out?

-Ari

I feel like things are attacking me from all sides. Bullets are pelting me from the right, and as I nurse my new wounds, an unseen bullet strikes from behind. How do I deal? Maybe I'm just being over dramatic. No, I am being over dramatic. I just... argh.

I went to the beach today with Kels. It was amazingly euphoric. I sprawled out on the beach, determined to melt into the sand and be washed away by the emerald colored waves. Insane? Ohh, I am completely aware of my loosing my mind. I sat in the sunlight lightly giggeling to random bits of conversation, and my rythmatic breathing copied that of the loud crashing of the waves. As I layed upside down on a dune, sand sprinkled all over my clothes and hair, I just stared... stared out. I was there. But I wasn't.

I want to be able to forget all aspects of time. I want to lose myself. I want to exist. I want to embody love. I want to... I want too much.

After dropping Kelsey off at home, I started on my way home. my tank was nearing empty, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more then to continue driving. I wanted to drive as far away as my car would allow, until the tank was devoid of all gas and my car died.

It was freezing out, but I didn't care. I turned on the heat full blast, rolled down all my windows, and screamed. I guess that would've looked weird to any cars passing by, but that didn't cross my mind. I don't know why I screamed. It was such a strange impulse, and I did it.

My senses are heightened, my feet iching to increase their milage, and I'm taking deep breaths. I'm so ready to run. The real question... what do I want to run away from?

http://www.twloha.com/the_story.php

for being so consumed in letting the world shape who I am. For what it's worth... I'm sorry I haven't been me. I'm sorry I haven't been living up to my full potential. But most of all, I'm sorry for believing I was worth nothing. I'm sorry for letting those around me convince me I meant zilch. I'm sorry for believing I was uncapable of shinning.

I'm sorry for being fake. I'm sorry for becoming obssessed with what I look like. I'm sorry I thought that if I was just a little more skinny, just a little more funny, just  a little more pretty, that I could be something.

I am my own downfall.

I'm sorry for being stupid, self-absorbed, and scared.

I urgently incourage you all to watch this video. It is about the horrible suffering of thousands of children in Uganda. Each night, children from all over Uganda walk miles and miles and miles into the main city. They are greeted by unsanitary and dismal conditions and are packed into small rooms. There is not nearly enough space for all the children that make a daily treck into the city in hopes of living through one more night... but that is all the government has.

Rebels are trying to take control over Uganda. After not being able to recruit the adult population of Uganda, the rebels have turned to abductiong children in the night and forcing them into a malicious army where they are forced to kill.

The Uganda government has continually sought out America to help... yet there strife and sadness has yet to even make it into our news room.

Please, this April 28th, a group called Invisiblw Children is sponsoring an event to try to make the American community more aware of the ugly life thrust upon the Ugandan children. On the night of April 28th, cities all over the US will be meeting at a designated area to discuss theproblems of the Invisible children and ways to make the US government help these children in desperate need. Afterward, we will spend one night sleeping outside on the streets.

All you have to do is go to http://www.invisiblechildren.com and sign up at the city nearest you. It costs NO money. These children face death every single day... living seems like a miracle and hope is far away. Every night, they go into the city praying that they and their family may live just one more night... every night...All I'm asking for is one...

-Nelson Mandela

Superbly said. Maybe I should try it?

Working with little kids is absolutely different then I would have ever expected. I have been helping at KidMo for only a couple of months now and it ceases to astonish me how much I learn from

a program designed for kids. But I guess, well, I'm only a kid after all.

I woke up this morning for KidMo after only four hours of sleep. With a cup of coffee in hand, I hastily left my house with a bad attitude. Needless to say, Ari was not in a happy mood.

Today, the lesson to be taught to the children was "filling the empty seats," or rather, telling people about the truth of God by showing love. Some of the breathless responses and remarks from the children were mind blowing. It is weird how someone so young in age can be so intelligent. It was like they had all the answers. They were so sure in themselves and so excepting of everyone... it was truely inspiring. Their innocence was strikingly beautiful.

Their bubbely smiles and silly laughter melted away my bad attitude and I felt really ashamed for my dreadful behavior. It is ridiculous, how selfish one can be. I always talk of wanting to be self-less and humble, yet I fail to put actions behind my words. I am a letdown to myself. I truely want to be more like Christ. I really do want to be able to look into the hearts of others. I want to be able to overcome focusing on their flaws and see them as beautifully as God does. Is that even probable? Does it matter? I want it. I want a soften heart. I want to show love, and give love, and have love, but I have got to stop making empty promises. It's time for my actions to follow my words. It is so much easier to say this then actually do this. But I am no better then the people I judge. My best moments are nothing but filthy rags when compared to that of Jesus. I want to start living in truth.

I'm disgusted with myself. There is no way I can justify my actions... no worthy exscuse. Once again, I have caused myself to stumble over my own pride. It's time I got off my high and mighty horse and truely humbled myself before the Lord.

I live such a privileged life and I am so blessed. It's urgent that I remember this, always, and I must stop asking for the things that are meaningless. Here I am preaching about how selfish the world is, and I fail to mention that I am just as terrible. So I admitt it. I am nothing. I am a sinner. I am no better then anyone on this earth. Kids my age are so nit picky. I don't want to be like that. I don't want to be who I have been. So here's a list of things I am committing to do to lead me to the path of humility. It's not a lot, but it's a start. Right?

1) Know God

2) Read the word more.

3) Tell people I love them more then I have. It's important that they know how much they mean to me.

4) Give A LOT more then I have been. 

5) Spend more time appreciating my fmaily, friends, and life.

-ari

If I don't say this now I will surely break
As I'm leaving the one I want to take
Forgive the urgency but hurry up and wait
My heart has started to separate

Oh, oh,
Be my baby
Ohhhhh
Oh, oh
Be my baby
I'll look after you

There now, steady love, so few come and don't go
Will you won't you, be the one I'll always know
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down

Oh, oh
Be my baby
Ohhhhhh
Oh, oh
Be my Baby
I'll look after you
And I'll look after you

If ever there was a doubt
My love she leans into me
This most assuredly counts
She says most assuredly

Oh, oh
Be my baby
I'll look after you
After You
Oh, oh
Be my baby
Ohhhhh

It's always have and never hold
You've begun to feel like home
What's mine is yours to leave or take
What's mine is yours to make your own

Oh, oh
Be my baby
Ohhhhh
Oh, oh
Be my baby
I'll look after you

-the fray

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_aDpmfAzxI

When I signed up to go to Hume, I was going in the hopes of running; running from myself. As I hastily ran from the problems and follies I had caused, I ran straight into God. This past year... these past couple of years, have been a huge trial. I made the decision to accept Christ into my heart a year ago, but I never followed through with my vow. Such betrayal is sickening. God has continually showed me love, forgiveness, and grace, yet I flirted with temptation and kissed death right on the lips, throwing everything God gave me right back in his face.

Yes, this past week I escaped- escaped from all the lies I allowed the world to feed me, and was forced to truely see myself. God gave me this week to reflect of who I have been and who I should be... what I am capable of achieving. As I sat in the small coffee shop, Hume Bean, with God's glory surrounding me, I jumped off the cliff I was trapped on and fell through my sick mind. Spiraling through my thoughts, I was able to truely see who I was and what a fake I have been.

This whole time, I have been playing at a masquerade ball, dancing with deception and hiding behind a captivating dress of falseness. All this time, I allowed myself to believe that the mask I was wearing could hide my troubles and mess ups.

I was drowning in the ocean of my own mendacity. The waves came crashing down, and I was to tired to continue to swim under the crashing waves of my falsehood. I was chocking on my own dishonesty.

The clock struck twelve, and Cinderella was expossed as the soiled maid she truely was. As my mask fell from my face and shattered on the door, the waves stopped tossing and the storm calmed.

How is it that something that appears to be so easy is incredibly difficult? All God was asking me to do was admitt to my denial and trust Him.. He just wanted to see me as I truely am... no more lies. I had gotten so used to watching history repeat itself. I was so used to allowing myself to get hurt that I could not see the true beauty that was stairing me in the face.

Up at Hume, I met God face to face... without my mask to hide the true repulsiveness that I am. In his eyes, I found the back door to the universe, and saw truth in the constellation of His heart.

All God wanted was me... He wanted me. Even with all my filth, sins, and confusion, God wanted to love me. So God, I come. Take me. All of me. I want to be Yours... and only yours. I come empty handed and broken. But Father God, I trust You. I want Your love to be enough. Jesus... You are enough. You are.

I was hitching my way from city to city in God knows where, with nothing more then a backpack on my back, a couple dollars in my pocket, and my camera in my hand. Such an adventure! I don't think I've ever seen myself look so happy... even if it was only in a dream.

I feel enclosed. Trapped. Betrayed? No, that's not the right word. I need to get out of here. I'm going insane. I'm ready for life to happen. I'm ready to be on my own. I hate being dependent on people. I'm ready to blossom, but there is something blocking my sun. I feel like my family has me encaged. Is it bad that I wish to be completely independent from my family right now? Oh my, don't get me wrong. I love them all very much. I just feel like they're holding me back. Hm, that sounds a little harsh, as well.

I'm tired of having to play mom to everyone. I'm tired of being the peace keeper. My parents are continually trying to make me there little scholar. They expect intellectual greatness out of me. I can't give them what they desire. I can't be the kind of greatness they want. I'm just not that intelligent. I can't handle the stress, and I'm nearly at my breaking point. Is it possible that I am just being a drama queen? yeah... probably. I just feel like I am capable of doing so much more, so why can't my parents see that. My life isn't in books. I'm not a failure. Or atleast, I don't think I am. Voices and voices swirl around my head yelling to me who I am and what I can do. So much confusion. So much loudness, I'm going to go deaf. Would that be a bad thing?

Maybe they're right. Maybe I can't take on the world...

but I want to try.

I'm waiting for the calm to come after the storm. I'm waiting for clearity. I know they are wrong. I know I am worth more then they say I am. So why do I constantly give into their insults and slander? It's hard not to believe them. They make a convincing argument. I've tried to please them for to long. It sucks... having this feeling that no matter what you do, you will never be quiet what they wanted. Inadequacy. I'm chocking. I need air.

I want them to know me. Truely know me. Maybe that's to much to ask? After all, it's not like I know my parents all that well, either. I don't want to feel like I have to hide myself when I am around them. I want to get away, be on my own. I want to fly.

I'm here for a reason. This emotion, these family problems- they're happening for a reason. Maybe that's all I am sure of at the moment. Maybe all I know is that I'm here, feeling the way I am feeling. But that's a start. I need to be patient.

How funny. Patience seems to be the underlying theme of my life at the moment.

I want to be bigger then myself; self-less. I want to give all of myself; to know what it feels like to love with self-abandonment. Is it possible? No, but I will try. I want to see the beauty in everything. How curious it would be to be able to look at people with love like Christ. Impossible. It certainly seems so. But I will try. 

I desperately wish I could change the world.  I can no longer sit in this comatose state, pretending that this facade we call "life" is reality. I want to expose the lies and hate that we are surrounded by. I want to show all of humanity what it is like to truely live.

It's hard, sitting here and watching the large majority of man walk straight into their graves. What can I do? What can I say? I feel completely incapable for saying anything. I am no better then them. I feel as if I am screaming my longues out, but man has no ears to hear me with.

hmm... that could prove to be potentially problematic.

I'm insane...