Saturday 15 June 2013

Reflective.

8 things I have learnt from doing 40 hours of no talking...


1. I really love the evolution of technology.
I know I could have spent some time writing by hand, but Microsoft Word, my cellular phone, and Facebook gave me a much needed outlet for my words over the famine.
I actually managed to have a beautiful conversation with my flatmate. She was talking, I was typing. And we did deeply connect. Who would of thought!
So I'm glad that while maybe I was kinda cheating, I was able to communicate to my friends in a way other than just verbal conversation.

2. I am super grateful that I am educated.
It seems many cultures, poor or not, are able to speak to one another, but in some primitive cultures their language is solely oral. Yet we are lucky to be able to read and to write.
This meant I was able to communicate without just my words, and entertain myself with reading.
I'm glad I've grown up in a country where education is valued and provided.
Just another one of our privileges.

3. I get too much self-worth from the reactions others give my words.
Here it gets a little bit more personal...
Many times over the famine I felt like less of a person because I was unable to speak. It didn't just suck, it really got me thinking about my worth.
See whenever my friends were talking I kept thinking little witty things that I could add to the conversation or say to make them laugh.
Yet, of course I couldn't.
I realised I really want people to think I'm funny, yet without talking how can they?
And when I was "chatting" with my flatmate, I really wanted to encourage her with my words and say "I love you."
But I couldn't.
I am now going to work on showing encouragement through my actions, and worry less about whether people can hear how 'funny' I am.
Very good thought - I urge you to consider this sense of value too.

4. I can handle not talking to others, but not talking to myself is AWFUL.
Maaaaaaaan it was hard not talking to myself for 40 hours!
Do you know how difficult it is to write poetry when you can't say it aloud?!
Poetry is written to be heard I say. So reading it over in my head was just frustrating.
Throughout the day, especially when I am studying, I love to make little noises and read things aloud.
This was definitely the one of the tougher parts of the weekend.

5. I love singing and I feel deprived when I can't do it!
There is really nothing more to say here.
I'm not a great singer at all, but heck I love singing!
40 hours without it was the hardest part of the famine I think.

6. Praying in your head makes it much harder to stay awake while praying.
Let's face it, it's a liiiiiittle tempting to fall asleep when praying sometimes hey?
Especially at night...
I really missed praying aloud and giving God more of my attention.

7. Maybe my words make up too much of who I am.
On the first night of the famine my flatmates and I went out for dinner. One of them said,
"Laura I like it better when you can talk. It feels like you are actually here when you talk."
This made me super sad!
I realised how much of my presence is dedicated by my words.
Isn't it still important that I am physically there? That I am listening and looking at the people I'm with?
I do loooove a good yarn, but I esteem to be more than just a conversationalist.

8. Sometimes silence is the only response, and the best one.
When you cry but you're not sure why,
When someone tells you something awful,
When you see a beautiful sunset,
When you feel faster than you can think,
Silence
is perhaps
            the
            best
            response.



Thank you 40 Famine, for allowing me to partake in this beautiful experience.
And for having the chance to raise $410 for underprivileged kids!




Grace and peace,
La. x

Sunday 9 June 2013

Truth-full.

Lately I have been struggling a bit with seeing clearly.
It’s not that life isn't great right now, in fact it’s the best it’s been for a long time.
But still in the classic nature of the flesh, I've been selfish.
I've wanted more.

I've been slightly dissatisfied with my current state of being.
Mainly because I have NOTHING going on in my love life and I started fearing I was past my use-by date.
Which is a lie, but you know the crazy places a young-adults brain goes.

So, I've turned to prayer.
In seeking truth I've gone to the only place, the only Him that is truth:
                Jesus Christ.

I've asked for honestly and revelation, and He has surely given it to me.
In surprisingly beautiful ways.


See here I was thinking life wasn't quite enough, so God hung out with me for a while and showed me a deeper piece of His heart. He is grace, mercy, love, truth, beauty.
                He is more than enough.


But alas, back to boys.
I have a wee crush on a certain someone who I am sure doesn't return the feelings. Yet being a dreamer, I have conjured up silly stories in moments of weakness. Then been rather disappointed as I come back down to earth.

But no more will I live outside of truth!
I will face it boldly, and embrace things
                as
                they
                are.

And trust that they are that way because that’s where God wants them.

So I wrote a poem.
This one goes out to all the single ladies crushing on a guy who can't quite see they should really be in love with you. Hahaha! Enjoy =).



With grace and peace,
La. x





HEARTACHE FROM A DREAMER.
Written 9th June 2013

Boy, who are you
to me?
In my clouded eyes you are hope,
Full of potential and mystery.
You haven’t quite figured it out yet, but perhaps you are
the one
who is intended only for
me.

We’ll share secrets
and love
We’ll dream and plan and carry out these things
no matter
what it takes. We’ll make
mistakes
and then forgive one another, saying it doesn't really matter
because we are
in
love.

This is the you of my mind,
caged and restricted by my imagination,
under my control and
really,
even though all of this is
beautiful
all of this is
fiction.

Because boy, who are you
really?
You are a just a guy I've met a few times.
A guy a kind of know.
A guy who I want to grow
in relationship and connection with. But it may
never
happen. We may forever just be acquaintances,
loose friends,
a couple of people who kinda sorta know each another.

And this sucks, this
truth
that smacks me in the face sucks.
The truth that wakes me up from my dreams and faces me boldly each day.
Sucks.

But what’s worse are the
lies
I conjure up. The fantasies I spend moments
delighting
in. Pushing aside the fact that they are
false, created, scripted.
A habit at which I’m so unfortunately gifted.

But this truth just has to be.
For we are in this world to know truly,
and to clearly see.
In the words of Alexander Supertramp, rather than
love,
money,
faith,
fame,
fairness,
truth, give me.


So here I go, watch me,
sadly stepping out into the known, the actual,
reluctantly facing
reality.