Painting heart-cries, word by word

Freewrite [4] June 2, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — verbosevictoria @ 2:28 pm
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Success. A single concept that embraces every variation conceivable to the human mind. The representation of achievement, of a thing acquired, of accolades deserved.

“What is your definition of success?” The definition remains the same, but the reason for applying it ceaselessly changes. There is always success to be had. The true question is what will it take for you to receive the success available?

I will be successful if I have a presentable house before this evening. I will be successful if, starting after dinner, I can yield to a true Sabbath rest until Sunday night. I will be successful if my children are fed, well-rested, loved, and listened to. I will be successful if my husband can enjoy my good attitude and industrious activity when he gets home. I am already successful for having written this down at all.

That’s a lot of success for one day, and I didn’t even throw in any long-term goals.

My usual trouble lies in the fact that there are always two ways each of those small opportunities of victory can go. I can be successful in lots of stepping-stone goals or–and this makes me cringe–I can be a small failure over and over and over. All my life I have let myself be defined by a fear of failure. It’s been an ever-ready trap, a mountain looming over me, a web of snakes around my ankles.

But I can see it for what it is now. I’ve known for awhile but have not named it, and there is power to be had in naming the monsters in the closet. No matter how big it is or how deep into my life it goes, it has been exposed to the light of God and cannot stand. It may not be a miraculous recovery. It may take years to undo the most apparent damage and only by God’s grace will I keep my children from being infected with the same fear. But the success lies in the fight, for me, not in perceived perfection.

Victory is already mine because I am aware of the battle, I am engaged in it, and I am learning. My desire to train is fierce. My motivation is beyond myself. My glory is the Lord’s. And my faith is constant. No power of hell or scheme of man can stand against the Christ-bought victory. I am NAMED by it.

My God loves me too much to let me settle for less than His Kingdom shining through me. And not in the cutesy “This Little Light of Mine” kind of way. No, He plans to keep me working at it until my very flesh is white-hot and translucent with the fire of His Spirit at work in me. He plans for my fleeting life on this earth to be as a spark in the night sky, whizzing past the eyes, leaving an imprint of flame on the vision long after the spark has disintegrated to whisping smoke. And that flame is not me, never me, but only Him, so that all of us will burn brightest for Him alone, reflecting His very nature and purpose, long after this world has been made new again.

Let Him be remembered! By me, by my life, by the choice to be consumed. Let me be another scintillating point of commemorating His holiness. Let me be sweet incense, as my every day life zooms through time, leaving trails of Holy-Spirit-light in my wake.

Glory, glory, glory to God Almighty!
Glorious Name, that conquers death and destruction;
Glorious Love, that burns brightest in the black of night;
Glorious Will, that inexorably reduces all things
To their original design.
His alone is the song of mankind!
His alone is the Voice of victory!
His alone is the ownership of Truth!
To Him my life is consecrated,
To Him my life rises on the wind,
To Him, all to Him.


Freewrite [2] January 14, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — verbosevictoria @ 9:42 pm
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I have been in love with crunchy peanutbutter and crips Pink Lady apples ever since I started being a mom. There’s something about natural, crunchy peanutbutter and the sweet crunch of an apple that is incredibly satisfying to my tastebuds. The energy doesn’t hurt either; it’s one of the few snacks I love that doesn’t make feel like a freight train afterwards.

It’s interesting what makes me feel good or proud of myself. I am proud of myself today because I said sorry when I realized I was wrong, I took a shower on a whim instead of debating it with myself, and my house still looks lovely after cleaning it up yesterday. I like the way I look because I actually styled my curls into a sort of submission and picked out an outfit just for fun. Most days I’m wandering around in a groggy stupor, pajamas and messy bun and glasses. No wonder I feel like a disaster. I probably LOOK like a disaster. 

I keep noticing my wedding bands today. I have a simple soft gold set with diamonds. The only unusual part is the main diamond is heart-shaped, which I love because it wasn’t something I would’ve chosen. I don’t like the practice of a girl picking out her wedding ring to make sure it’s something she’ll like. If it had been up to me, I probably would have gone with silver or platinum settings and a fiery opal instead of a diamond. Definitely not heart-shaped diamond set in gold. But I love it for that precise reason. Eric picked it out for me because when he saw it, he knew that was the best representation of his love for me and our commitment together. I do like it, every year a little more, and I’ve started to wear more gold because of it. I don’t see why I should keep all my favorite things the same just because they’ve been my favorites for years. I’m actually contemplating changing my favorite color from green to purple. Green used to be my favorite color because it was the color of my eyes when they were at their most interesting. I loved green because it was the color of the forest and I was slightly obsessed with trees for awhile. I still am, on some level. I loved green because I could wear it well and not many other people would, so it felt like MY color. It also signified life in general and genuine, vibrant things, which I felt expressed the best parts of me.
And yet, I am considering changing my answer to the perpetual ice-breaking question to purple. I’ve added purple into my life without really realizing it. I think it is the color of my life now, at least a bit more so than green. Green was when I was very young. I’m not quite that young anymore. At the same time, I’m not feeling terribly mature. Purple is such a rich, textured color and invites contemplation. I love to think, probably a bit too well, and purple is like a mental peace. The ability to converse in my head is a source of comfort for me. And it also expresses my passion and creativity. I want to be that passionate, creative, thoughtful person every day. I don’t succeed in that goal, but I still carry it in my back pocket as it were. Tucked out of sight but never quite forgotten. I want to have a purple life, now that I’ve had my green one.

–10 minutes