• Question: aw, man, idk i didn't know it would get popular, and to be honest, you're right: it's not a work of literature. but I dunno about cheesy times /10000/ maybe only like 100 or like 150 because it was written honestly, about my life, you know? idk sorry i didn't mean to overreact or bother you or anything but i think people forget the source sees everything and sometimes the source feels sad :P - inkskinned
  • Answer:

    yeah, sorry, the x10000 was hyperbole. You’re poetry is lovely and heartfelt. 

  • Question: you called my poem sappy/cheesy ow???? ): - inkskinned
  • Answer:

    adorable, made me smile, but sappy. Very clever. 

    I don’t post a lot of poems, so i really did like it.


from sammiedee, it’s cheesy x10000, but adorable

(via sammiedee)

Source: inkskinned

Mother Teresa’s Humility List

1. Speak as little as possible about yourself.
2. Keep busy with your own affairs and not those of others.
3. Avoid curiosity.
4. Do not interfere in the affairs of others.
5. Accept small irritations with good humor.
6. Do not dwell on the faults of others.
7. Accept censures even if unmerited.
8. Give in to the will of others.
9. Accept insults and injuries.
10. Accept contempt, being forgotten and disregarded.
11. Be courteous and delicate even when provoked by someone.
12. Do not seek to be admired and loved.
13. Do not protect yourself behind your own dignity.
14. Give in, in discussions, even when you are right.
15. Choose always the more difficult task.

(via thefullnessofthefaith)


"Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing."

- Camile Pissarro  (via m-arcelo)

(via caravaggista)

Source: xkaaho

It’s easy to forget His incredible sovereignty. The in’s and out’s of being a “religious” person can become rhythmic and consume the sense of mystery that being in Him gives. I take my eyes off of Him often and onto the world and myself, as if I can earn His love or do His work, using Him as a consultant rather than begging that He use me as an instrument for His work that He predetermined would be done in His name. 

A perfect example of my fleeting mind can be found in Genesis. Every time it’s brought up in a sermon or conversation, I get either a sinking feeling in my stomach or a sense of aarogance, depending on the circumstance. When a pastor or a brother/sister tries to tell me something from Genesis, I check out because, heck, I’ve heard it already. When a teacher or a nonbeliever brings it up, I sink away for fear of attack. You don’t believe in evolution? Do you believe in science? Do you always blindly accept unfounded superstitions? All empty threats to my reputation and certainly empty in the face of my God. 

I have forgotten the magnitude of genesis. He made everything. He sustains everything. It’s all His. Everything belongs to Him and is sustained through Him. We have developed an attitude of science vs. faith becuase many people genuinely think you have to ignore science to have faith. Who gave the scientists their minds? Who gives them their daily breath and bread? Who sustains them? Have all their efforts been unglorifying, destroying rather than blessing? Truth is, scientists have done many things that have brought praise and glory to God and He Himself wakes them every morning. They may not all accept this, but one day they will know His sovereignty as well as anyone else. 

I imagine that as He watches us play around in our universities, celebrating our “discoveries”, He watches like a father with a toddler, delighting in the child’s curiosty and desire to learn. With everything He reveals, He is calling us to look deeper into His creation. It’s like He shows us something (i.e. a faraway galaxy or subatomic particles) and instantly says, “just wait, there’s so much more. I’m infinite.” 

Yet I doubt Him. Can He who created the heavens really know or care about us? Look at the scale of the known universe. We are nothing. From dirt we came and if we’re honest with ourselves, we are as temporary and significant to the universe as any piece of dirt ever will be. Small doesn’t begin to explain me. Yet he says He knows me. That a sparrow doesn’t fall without His knowing. Who is this God that designed the constallations yet knows my every thought? Big doesn’t begin to explain Him; as He tells us time and time again, He is unsearchable, incomprehensible and mysterious. 

Lord, I pray that in my insignificance, I may see your sovereignty. Without You, I am truly nothing. May I remember that you are the God who created galaxies out of nothing and that there is disgusting arrogance in the thought that anything belongs to me, let alone my very life. 

Praise and Glory to Him who is worthy of love, fear, awe and all worship- our mighty Creator. 

 { “Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!  How unsearchable his judgments,   and his paths beyond tracing out!  ’Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?’ ‘Who has ever given to God, that God should repay them?’ For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.” }  Romans 11:33-36


Why was it that Paul kept telling the early churches that he was praying for them and their “knowledge”? He makes it clear that the wisdom of the world is foolishness to those who believe, yet he encourages the early followers to a certain form of wisdom. In Ephesians, he states, "I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints, and His incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of His mighty strength,…" [Eph. 1:18-19]. 

I think one major aspect of the wisdom he is referring to is a wisdom of identity. The strength of the Gospel comes from understanding what Christ did and the unimaginable consequences. Paul knows well who he is ( “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, according to the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus,…” [2 Tim. 1:1] ) and from this knowledge, he finds his strength. His salutations often serve to remind his readers not only of his calling, but of theirs as well ("To the holy and faithful brothers in Christ at Colosse," [Col. 1:2] ). 

Yet, it seems that throughout the epistles, Paul is constantly calling them to what we may call legalistic measures and rules that appear to be contrary to the freedom that we have supposidly gained through Jesus. But maybe Paul’s calls to be set apart point again to the importance of Identity. In other words, he wants them to, at all times, know who they are, who they were and Who their God is and what He stands for (i.e. love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control [Gal. 5:22] ).

I think at the root of many of our problems is an identity crisis. We do forget who we are, a holy people, beloved by the Creator of all things. What would my life look  like if I really understood this? I mean, really understood this. For one thing, there would be no trace of insecurity. Who’s opinion matters when God Himself calls me beloved? There would be no loneliness. Like affection and warmth for a lover, my heart would be filled with joy constantly, His presence would never leave my realization. The truth of His omnipresence would be my comfort and solidarity.

 Another inevitable change is the way I view other people. This strength and hope I have was not given for me alone, but for all His beloveds. For God, unlike man, can love all without favoritism yet each one entirely and completely. I don’t need to be jealous for my Beloved’s heart, for I have it. “I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine. [Song of Sol. 2:16]” This points me towards the things of His heart, namely, other people, all people. This depth of love is a gift to them as well, whether or not they can see. This gift has been given me that I may come to this great knowledge, not for the sake of knowledge, but that I may give of myself without growing weary or tired. “My cup overflows [Psalms 23:5]” for He who fills it is faithful. 

I pray that this truth may penetrate my heart entirely. Not for my sake, but for the sake of people living in fear and anxiety. May I allow myself to be poured out, to run the race without growing weary, for Love is too great a gift to forsake. 

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the holy spirit.” Romans 15:13


I think someone once told me, or maybe I read it somewhere or i heard it in a song or watched it in a movie or analyzed it in a poem…somehow I have bought into the idea that having “room to breath” can heal relationships. What I’m finding now, through genuine experience, is that breathing is becoming increasingly more painful the farther away I walk. I can suddenly feel the mass of my lungs and measure the stretch of every inhalation. The “space” that was supposed to make things easier has made me acutely aware of my mortality.

Allowing people to intimately come to know you, to know your weaknesses and flaws, fears and hopes, insecurities and passions, has the opposite effect. You feel immortal when you’re with them. Like making memories and sharing experiences can somehow stop inevitable changes. And in a way, that’s true. Long after I leave Geneseo, I will be able to see their faces, hear their laughter and smile at the thought of their quirks. My mind will wander back to Geneseo years after I graduate, partially due to the sunsets and colors of the seasons, but mostly because of the people who made this place home.

So what happens when things aren’t so great? do you ignore problems, fake smiles and laughter, carry on pointless conversation with each other while carefully reigning in the mental commentary that accompanies? Or do you look conflict in the eye and reason it away? I think that works with anger, maybe with frustration or confusion. Hurt, however, is more resilient. It knows how to fight your rationale and logic.

Long story short, Hurt got me. It packed up my suitcase, threw it in the back of my car and drove somewhere with “room to breath”. An emotion won, I lost, and left a few confused in the process. This is brokenness unmasked. But somehow, the face of this monster has taught me why we needed a Grace so radical and strange. You can’t fight sin like this with spotless pigeons or calves.

But that’s kinda what it feels like I’m doing, fighting a wildfire with a water bottle. There’s this giant pink elephant that isn’t content to sit in a corner but rather chooses to follow me. I’m not ignoring it, I just can’t deal with it. Redemption is nice in theory, but you never really get your way. He will have His way. I’ve no doubt it’s Good, I just want to wallow in what’s familiar. I want to go back a couple of months in time and press pause. The future is no friend to me now.

This new feeling of exposure and rejection leaves me longing for healing, but unable to ask. It keeps me up at night, mind racing in circles.

This “room to breath” is suffocating me.

Maybe this is how change just feels. Maybe this is life. Maybe I do need to establish boundaries or take a couple of steps backwards. Truthfully, I don’t have a clue. I’m paralyzed with the understanding that every movement henceforth comes with consequences, and not only for myself. Relationships will change; it’s inevitable if not already done. My prayer is content acceptance.

When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, a man cannot discover anything about his future. [Ecclesiastes 7:14]

  I’m beginning to learn from a friend that even the closest of relationships aren’t remotely easy or safe. Being with the right person doesn’t make them any less of a different person; she is still very much, distinctly herself and I, the other half, am very clearly myself, flaws and all.

  She and I have lent certain things to each other, for sure. She has a deeper experience with country music and driving down back country roads and I have picked up certain vocal affects and phrases formerly unfamiliar (guys….gosh darn it!). But she is still she and I am still I. We disagree and fail to communicate and hold different opinions and attitudes. I still struggle to trust- even her- in all our time together, all her reassuring letters and comments and all the deep meaningful conversations have not managed to completely tear down solid walls of defense. A couple chips of vulnerability have been exposed. But the carefully and diligently constructed wall very much remains. I’m starkly aware of the bricks in the moments when her individuality (and thus separation from myself) is most clear.

When we argue, my recurring thought is not immediately toward reconciliation, but future separation. I go back to the old habit of reminding myself that no mortal relationship is permanent and that it was foolishness to believe that any person could be truly relied upon. Even when she’s clearly right and myself wrong, there’s the defensive retreat made to the old fortress of individualism.

In our InterVarsity small groups we’re studying Nehemiah. He built up a wall for the benefit of God’s people. The building of my wall, and those built by others like me, are keeping the body apart and reinforcing brokenness. We do not construct our self-defenses over night. We build them up, much as Nehemiah did, section by section, brick by brick, year after year, but dis-similarly, we often build them unconsciously. We never imagine that we will not be able to break them down in the moments we desire closeness. We forget that the cold thoughts and self-centered perspective may keep us safe in the midst of certain challenges, but will never serve to comfort once the offender has left. Bricks don’t give comfort or hope- they are tools of the lonely designed to protect, unaware that they will one day do far more harm than vulnerability could ever inflict.

She knows how to trust. She knows how to be vulnerable and open and honest even when hurt. I know how to run. She and I are, by the Grace of God, very different. If it wasn’t for her odd fearlessness, our friendship would have burnt out before it really began.  

God does not desire us to hide within the safety of self. He asks us to destroy those walls entirely and walk unhindered after him- facing rather than running from affronts. I often ask Him to destroy all that I idolize and, through Sara, He is slowly doing just that. It’s often challenging and can be frightening. She can walk away at any moment or change her mind without reason- but I am daring to wager that she will not. I pray that she will stay next to me for the time we have together and help tear down the walls I built in pride. I likewise wish to lift her burdens and do all I can to help her become what He wishes of her.This friendship, quirky and odd, challenging and trying, knowing and honest, broken but saved by Grace, is what (i think/hope/figure) real love actually looks like.