Tolerance, Hurt, and Plain Randomness

I have no idea what I'm doing writing something perfectly random in this blog. I'm supposed to be writing something else but I just couldn't. I want to write this instead but I still couldn't bring myself to express the words that this hyperventilating heart wants to say. As much as I want to write about a multitude of things, I am the most problematic when it comes to organizing my thoughts. If only my mind were a room, you'd find eggs half-cracked and flying, and dancing light bulbs that sing at the same time. I am weird and I want to write about this weirdness' consequences but it's just too hard.

My heart is, let's just say, aching. And that's an understatement. Thank you, weird me.
I know this has something to do with my hamartia: feelings. As confusing as it sounds I did read that thing again. I know! I think I might just have become a masochist over the summer. Yes, I read it over and over again even though it never stopped hurting me, and even though it always brought me to tears at first because of bitterness, but eventually because I knew I could never do anything to bring back what was lost. It was my fault. It was because I haven't learned to put a muzzle on my mouth and thumbs (when I text, of course). And I read it when I feel like it because I know it spoke the truth. That it truly was my fault. I thought I'd get over it, but somehow something's holding me back, taunting me.

Hello, reader. I know you have no idea what I'm rambling about, and I do not expect you to understand, much less finish reading this. But girls like me just have to write, you know. I realized, I've been short of friends I could truly trust this summer, being a loner at home, and this blog is the closest I could get to having my best friend beside me. And I just realized, every single time I read a novel, I find myself conforming to some of the protagonist's unusual habits and thinking patterns. I'm currently reading The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank, and here I am, writing on this blog that Anne would have called Kitty to match the diary she had kept for years.


Remember how I said I have problems organizing my thoughts? Yeah, well, I actually started writing this without knowing how to end it. Now that I want to close this post ASAP (because I'm getting tired), I have no idea how to do it. See, that's my weirdness and randomness working, my friends. Wait, wasn't I just talking about how hurt I am? Haha. Gah, I think I have a bipolar disorder. :/ But I'm hoping this would be a good sign - that I really couldn't hold on to bitterness for too long.

*insert a paragraph to close this post*

K, awkward abrupt goodbye here. Until my next much more decent post. :)

Review: The Fault in Our Stars (John Green)

So far, I've read about three new novels since summer. Right, I know that's a pretty slow pace but hey, it's summer and people are supposed to be frolicking under the sun going from one beach to the next. I didn't have too much time to sit down and read a book in one sitting (which I always did until summer when I had no choice but to settle for the electronic books that always were interrupted by rotating black outs). I've read a series of amazing books, this time. And this, I must say, is a huge improvement on my part as I often had read shallow novels that I only managed to scavenge from Booksale, the only decent (not really, even) bookstore Iligan City is probably going to get for the next several decades. Sad, but true.


I haven't been writing as much lately too and I figured writing reviews of the books that I've read would keep me from being entirely unproductive as I had not been taking summer classes anyway. I do not know whether or not I should have a separate blog for this, but I think it would be safer to stick to this blog for the mean time. Tell me if I should.

I am supposed to be reading The Diary of A Young Girl by Anne Frank right now, but I didn't want my high for The Fault in Our Stars by John Green to wear off until I finished writing about it, so here I am, fingers ready for this "review". The word "inspiration" couldn't have been more meaningful to anybody than to writers who struggle oftentimes for creative juices. Get what I mean?

This is a story of Hazel Grace Lancaster, a sixteen year-old cancer-stricken girl, and how she faces subtle realities only she seems to care about. Except for Augustus Waters, of course, that one person (also has cancer, unfortunately) who randomly shows up one day at Support Group and changes her in ways I couldn't even put into words. It was beautiful, their story.

Honestly, I didn't always notice cancer patients the way most people in the world wide web would. They were almost everywhere, I thought, that my mind didn't really sympathize like the rest as much as I sympathized with those people from the third world who had AIDS, or polio, or any incurable disease for that matter.

Maybe this was the first time I have had a glimpse of what it would be like to be there, in a way helpless. Even if you do act tough and even when you think you could get through it, escaping by numbing from the pain, you just couldn't. That's the thing about pain...it demands to be felt, Augustus had said. All you do everyday then, even with cancer written all over your body, is just convince yourself you're better than yesterday when in fact every part of you is dragging you closer to your funeral. The saddest part is, you couldn't do anything about it. Not even with medical help.

It was too painful, even for me. Augustus and Hazel were so real, I almost believed they exist somewhere, waiting for me to fly to wherever they are. But of course, fiction tends to disappoint you at some point. After you read every word of the story and after you close the book, shedding a few tears, you realize none of it had been real, none of it is real, and it was just that, fiction.


I didn't really like Hazel, to be honest. She cusses too much and is way too skeptical for my liking. She's a deep thinker. That I admire. Plus she reminds me a lot of my serious self. She doesn't believe in God though, and she's too cynical towards almost everyone around her. She thinks nobody really cares, and all they do is show up at your funeral and remark on how "great" you have been. It sickens her. She does have a point, but sometimes I think her thoughts are too much, she might need a few lessons on being appreciative.


“I'm in love with you," he said quietly.

"Augustus," I said.

"I am," he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you.” 

This is what Augustus is like. He has a way with words and I, although not Hazel, found myself falling for his character. Yes, I'm pathetic like that, temporarily falling for a fictional character. It was his charm and wit that didn't let me get off the book, really. And his name. There was something about Augustus and Waters that created that tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach like it just knew he would be my fictional soul mate.


Overall, I find the plot okay and not really extraordinary. With its witty humor, I laughed a good couple of times, yes. And although I did cry towards the end of the story, I'm kind of wondering now if it had something to do with the pressure of being moved by it as most of the readers I knew did say it did move them. Unlike the other excellent novels I had read, The Fault in Our Stars didn't really have the activity that I had expected. It was like a birthday present, wrapper ripped slowly in a sentimental manner enough to make you wonder about the 'truth' it offers and enough to stir your emotions. It was never the plot but the genuine characters and the art of putting the right words together that made the novel gripping and yes, beautiful.




Overall Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

I could've just rated it an easy 3 stars had I been too critical about it. However, you couldn't really rate a book without including your own feelings, so, because I was moved (and I admire how Green could create such endearing characters) and it managed to purge out those tears that weren't really that hard to do, I decided it deserves one more star.

Will I recommend this book?

Why not? If you love to read, then go ahead. I have to warn you, however, that there are philosophies thrown by Hazel, especially, that might push you from the track if you aren't strong enough. I, however, did not mind reading over them because as I've mentioned earlier, I didn't like her (and most of her ideas) as much as I liked Augustus (who, by the way, is more optimistic than she is).


_________

I almost didn't write this review because I felt like I was pressured to write with so much passion and logic to match the other good The Fault in Our Stars reviews I had read earlier. But I already told someone I'd do this and I didn't want my yes be no, so here you go, Ruth! Haha. Now off to my next book. :)

Laying Down My Desires

What kind of girl doesn't want to be married and wear a white gown with all grandeur? What kind of girl doesn't want a prince to be with? What kind of girl doesn't want to raise a child who resembles her? What kind of girl looks at the sunset and doesn't find it romantic? What kind of girl shuns romance? Of a one-of-a-kind love story?

Ever since I had been aware of stories of humans falling in love with each other, I secretly wished God would one day reveal to me my own - that one day when my heart would pump so fast, I'd forget how to breathe.

I was like that: a princess that walks in the garden, feeling every flower, inwardly searching for that one rose God might have set apart for her.

I am writing this because recently I have gotten in this fear of being so set apart for the Lord that I should deny marriage. It was during my devotionals when this thought came taunting me, interrogating me of how far I would be able to sacrifice. Am I able of sacrificing this great dream of being a wife with a loving family? No, God was not telling me to forgo marriage. At least not yet. And I sure do hope He wouldn't. I am writing this because God told me to lay down and tell Him my desires and my fears.

It was too painful that night that I only knelt and cried. Lord, this is my desire. It had been one for a very long time. I'm supposed to be almost there now. I didn't always tell God my desires and fears with such passion, but I had learned that it is complete exposure that draws us more into intimacy.

If God tells me to deny marriage and the possibility of becoming a mother, then I have no choice but to humbly accept the calling and do as He tells me to do. As for now, all I could do is lay down my desires, pray, and listen to what He really is telling me to do. Hannah was a barren woman but she prayed with passion, she quivered. She asked. And lo, God answered her and gave her Samuel. I, then, must be as faithful as she had been, mustn't I?

I still couldn't get over the possibility that I might not be able to have the dream that I had always written about in my old diaries and short stories. Whatever happens though, I will submit to my ultimate Bridegroom's demands of love. It might or might not be what it seems to me because my mind is finite. Still. The will of the Lord, the God of Abraham, be done. Yes. All I could do right now is be on my knees and pray.


Lord, open my ears that I may hear my Shepherd's voice. Open my ears that I may hear what Your desires for me are. Open my heart and let me understand. Your child, Aine.

The Need For Intimacy

 
Our private life of intimacy with God must always exceed our public world of ministry. Ministry is only a working out of what God has already worked into our lives. - Susan Tang


We are well aware of how conception takes place. A man and a woman must first become intimate with each other before a baby, their fruit, is conceived. Susan Tang, Author of Demands of Love (a book I'm currently reading), helped me realize that the same process also takes place in the spiritual realm. We are the church, and the Lord is the Bridegroom. Why aren't we being intimate with Him yet? Are we even thinking that public ministry could be a substitute for intimacy?

This question should be posed to the churches of this generation: Have we been intimate enough to hear His demands? His desires for us?


Now, I'm not trying to duplicate Susan Tang's book. I just wanted to share what I had learned from what I've read. Honestly, intimacy is also one of the things that I had been struggling with. I didn't know how, and as time went on, I did not even care to identify personal intimacy with the Lord from public ministry. I had, without realizing it, substituting my intimacy with the Lord with "work"! I thought I was closer with the Lord each time I served His church. Trust me, you do not want to be in that situation. And if you already are, please, go back to your First Love. Please.

"I know your deeds, your hard work, and your  perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and endured hardships for my name and have not  grown weary.

Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place." Revelation 2:2-5


There was a time when I was too engrossed in the ministry entrusted to me by the Lord, that my personal moments with Him had become a monotonous routine. I read the Word and prayed everyday, but the flame for genuine intimacy had slowly shrunk to embers that not even public ministry could fan. Outside, though, I was working and being joyful about it. I haven't realized what was wrong until I was forced to step out from the field. Depression overwhelmed me when I was made to stop abruptly. I thought that was the end. And each time I thought about the ministry that I had been in, my heart hurt. It was so painful and I questioned the Lord every night. "Lord, didn't you want me to serve you? I could serve you even if my life was endangered. Lord, can you even hear me? Please hear my plea. Why are you turning your face away from me?"


But He wasn't. Instead, He was drawing me CLOSER to Him. He is drawing US to Him. The Lord wants intimacy from us, not our efforts. Because only through intimacy with Him will we be able to conceive - His desires, His burdens, and His visions. I realized, if we, His church, continue to just work in His church, doing what we think is right and pleasing, forgetting the basics of intimacy (and of complete exposure and brokenness before the Lord, ready to be molded even in the most painful ways), we would only be running in circles. How could we please God, without actually being intimate with Him enough to know what He wants? How could we bear fruit without being intimate with our Lover? Doesn't it make sense? It does to me now. I hope it also does to you.


Brethren, I encourage you to spend time reading Susan Tang's Demands of Love to learn more about Intimacy with the Lord through the Holy Spirit's leading. Believe me, I didn't even share a hundredth of what you will be reading from the book. :)

May we be like David who longs and even thirsts for the Lord Himself.

"You, God, are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you,
my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
where there is no water." Psalm 63:1

A Thank You I Never Thought I'd Say

This post is for that one person who had realized long before that I should go on my own for a while.

Dear you,

It was stupid, even for me, to insist on what my heart had nagged me to do months back. That...separating was useless and would only leave me as torn as before. As usual, I was wrong. That space had my soul searching for what it was intended to look for. In the space, in mid-air, I found a Hand that led me towards the dead-end that never actually was. It was a dead-end that had the portal to transport me to the deepest part of the ocean where there were no waves nor ripples but stillness and peace. His peace. His embracing arms. Back to the presence of my First Love.

So, thank you for being the instrument I never knew would come. Thank you for the sensitivity. The Lord bless you and keep you, igsoon. And somewhere, somehow, we will meet again, in His time, and I would be able to say my thank you in person. SEE you, eventually. :)

"I thank my God every time I remember you." Philippians 1:3

Your sister in Christ,
Aine

Something Unordinarily Ordinary

Hi. I know. This blog had been personal, but not personal enough to be thrown with unnecessary details. I do not even remember how to write in a diary now. It was always a series of stories or essays, but never that simple documentation of what REALLY went on my life, not that it matters, right?

So I met this guy. He was fun and oddly displaying too much affection and attention needed, though he was younger than I am. I heard of him first from a mutual friend who warned me about being "caught" in this guy's net, which might take forever to get out. It sounded rational, hearing from her but of course, I do not want to be the type of person who would be too quick to judge, so I weighed things and decided as long as I do not entertain him, nothing exactly bad would happen. I figured, this guy needs the Lord, and he needs lessons on the basics of waiting for true love. So there we were, spending everyday on conversations. Most of the time, he'd prefer throwing flirty remarks which I patiently brushed off (c'mon, I'm older here). Eventually, though, he warmed up to the idea of true love and even God. Hm, or so I thought. I don't know. Maybe he thought I was too conservative to be dealt with. Communication suddenly went down the pits and aside from liking photos and statuses on Facebook, we no longer had contact. I noticed some activity going on between him and a pretty girl and I thought to myself, "Tsk. I thought there had been a change of ideals." I feel sorry, really. I do not know if I should have done better. We're meeting this June and whatever happens, well, happens.

Haha. I do not know why I'm writing about this. I just scrolled down though my feed on Facebook, and paused when I saw his name. Then everything came flashing back, as if taunting me that it had been "this" close to a change. Whatever, I'm blabbering. Thing is, sooner or later, more things that I couldn't change would come. And no matter what I do, they are just not bound to be changed by anything that I choose to do. God has other plans.

Really. I just wanted to write about something to at least get my mind off its monotonous activities. Thanks for reading and making this worth the effort. Until my next post. :)