Identity Crisis

Lately I've been thinking a lot about identity and where mine lies. I'm supposed to give the textbook Christian answer that my identity lies in Christ but I don't know if I honestly relate to that idea. I play so many parts these days that I'm not sure where the honest version of me went. Perhaps it's my own fault because of my co-dependency on unhealthy and broken people. I always fool myself into believing that through fixing someone else I can heal myself. I take on too many broken people, too man lost souls, to the point that my own is in jeopardy. I feel far away from God. I want to feel close, but the tangible relationships and things in my life are what keeps me grounded lately, not some spiritual entity. I wonder what it's like for people who deny the existence of God and the redeeming love of Christ. I've always wondered what was their motivation? Why even live a good life, to what imaginary standards are you holding yourself? Why even give a flying fuck? Then again I look to my own motivation and wonder. Just when I began to revalue my body as God's temple I desecrate it. To what use is it really to value something if not for our own self gain? Why give up things that society tells us to hold onto? Is it to give the finger to "The Man" and society as a whole? Or is it for some greater Good? I'm really good at holding onto things and making them "work". What if some things in my life just need to be let go of? There are few certainties in my life: my passion for music and the ways in which God speaks to me through it, my passion for teaching and filling young minds with knowledge of a better world than we have now, and my desire to someday be a loving mother and raise a God fearing family. If I let these things slip then what identity am I trying to hold onto? I need to ignite my passions but I need an eternal flame to keep me burning but I'm trying desperately to feed my own fire with things that are toxic and artificial when compared to Him.

Things I am learning about myself...

Things I am learning about myself:
I think I'd choose a man who listens to jazz music over metal.
I think I like elbow patches more than gaged ears.
I like Stella Artois more than PBR.
I like baking cupcakes as supposed to getting baked.
I like to dance, not grind.
I drink my coffee with cream.
I say I like to read books, and I do, but I spend time on the internet instead.
I like concerts, just not the people at them.
I wear leggings way too often.
I go places to remind me of my ex, to pretend like the sad feeling I get can somehow resurrect the two of us, hand in hand, wandering as we used to.
I try way too hard to be cool.
More will be added to this list in time-

Be In the Light.

This artificial fluorescent lighting.
All these placebo prayers.
It hurts to scrape your knees-
and to look up,
and break down.
His Glorious Light!
I have been fed.
Vitamin G-O-D.
Yahweh.
I want to walk in Your light.
No longer in the shadows.

Advice

I'm reading a Donald Miller book, "Searching For God Knows What" and finding it is full of advice. Swear to God every other page is marked or highlighted. So I guess this is a healthy step away from spending hours on Facebook or cyber-stalking my ex boyfriend. Found out he's going to San Diego for some reason. Why should I care or feel need for validation? Not sure. Actually I am sure, because for 8 months my validation came through him. My decision making process was based on him. In this book I'm reading Miller talks a lot about this void, this attempt to play the part for society and climb the social ladder because it models to us the love we once shared with God. I was getting my love and my affirmation from a direct source when I was with Martin. It sounds harsh to say that God is not a direct source. That's not what I meant by that. What I meant was that, for me, it was easier to search out momentary affirmation that I could obtain without much work. It seems like since we have been separated from God as a result of the fall, our fallen nature makes it so that we have a difficult time feeling affirmed by God. Look at how much time I spent with Martin. All that attention and now he is not in my life. So, I do what is natural an normal, I start searching it out in other forms: friends, family, academics, partying. Why can't I do the obvious good thing and search out God's unlimited affirmations for my heart? He is full of Goodness and Grace that is there for me 24/7. So, I guess, reading this book I should start looking different places for meaning and such, yet I don't. It's a cycle and a trick that we don't need God. We do. He is where we are made worthwhile. He is where we need to find our meaning- not in our friendships, or our hardships, or finances or romances. We need to meet Him wherever we are and to allow ourselves to feel unworthy and unholy and broken and ugly and used- all the emotions we would never want the popular voice to hear. For with whatever place we are at in our life, God wants to meet us there, and affirm us and let us know that we have fallen from Him, but He is still there to help pick us up- over and over again. Then maybe we can begin to start falling for Him.

Why I'm not With Martin

Satan likes to feed me lies right when God is trying to feed me His truth. Martin was not part of God's truth. Martin did not love God and did not love me. He was a physical substitution for the space in my heart that has grown so much over time. My heart has been cluttered. Occasional High Fructose Corn Syrup solutions to my malnourished soul. Martin was not fully committed and neither was I. There was something missing on both ends. I need to write this out so I can remember. There is a reason we are no longer together. No matter how much I want to dwell on what I did wrong it will not change. 8 months of my life were spent happily unsatisfied. Satisfied with his presence, but never exchanging souls. Sharing the same bed, yet not the same heart. Still, my hearts not the same anymore.
I need to acknowledge that too. What my heart needs is to mute out the recording of lies that I have memorized in my head. Recordings that I am not good enough or never will be. Recordings that I must make everyone like me or I am letting God down. Recording that I need a man's attention in order to feel pride or security in myself. Martin was not a solution to my loneliness. Neither are my friendships no matter how strong they may be. My strength must be found in confiding with this Guy who I've tried to break up with so many times, but for some reason He keeps running back to me. Come to think of it, He's the only guy who has. I've "cheated" on God so many times, but he still desires a relationship with me. Weird. How many times do I have to tell Satan to shut up and stop trying to be my pimp. Strange analogy, but true nonetheless. Satan tries to pawn me off, as property, as something to be used and reused by his lies. Christ still loves this whore. It's a beautiful beautiful thing. I need to remember that.

Body and not the Bread

I'm sick of you sending me Biblical verse
as if they are a cure-
rather, from your lips a curse.
For what could be worse?
I am not found in a page outworn-
I am found in the midst of a storm,
treading water as the King cries out
for me to walk
follow believe.
You send me words
but I drown in the thought
that you never felt an inch for me
and look at how far I've got.
I want, need, to wish you had never said hello-
For I will never be what you want
simply a sister in a large family
I cannot fulfill this companionship
when I want the body and not the bread.

nicotine

Nicotine notes
of missed goodbyes.
Torn threads,
Ragged remains-
passing for our hollow hello.
You know and-
I know,
That, this-
well, this isn't going anywhere.
I tried to give it life.
You kept up the breathing,
but your asthmatic rhythm-
Cut us off.
I soaked up your toxicity,
your second-hand excuses.
I forgive you for taking my lungs,
and filling them with air-
that left me,
once breathless
now grounded and gasping.
I'm picking up the scent again,
of gravel and bike grease.
I'm tying my shoes twice
as if somehow
the decay in my deepest, cavernous parts,
will stop.
Nicotine kills quietly yet chaotic-
a scent of you beneath it's musk.