the prayer of a speechless heart

______,

there's a set of words used in homage, in respect, and in praise of You. people use these words world wide, and at times, they seem fully genuine and heartfelt. but, i feel as though those words have lost their meaning in my heart. does this speak to my heart or the words? i'm not quite sure, but either way, their meaning has left and my heart feels speechless. there are days i feel compelled to speak, but in the recesses of my heart and mind, i don't have words that You deserve. this has brought me to a place of feeling those compulsions less and less. as is the case for most parts of me: i lose a connection and forget the connection was even there, and more so, don't try to regain it.

this is my attempt at regaining it.

i want You to know that those words that have lost their meaning, they not only feel meaningless and empty, but almost pushed to the other side of the spectrum: false. not that You are false, but that the words, in their tiny meanings, are portraying You in false lights. i don't want to do that. i don't even want to try and portray You. i want You to portray Yourself to me. and in me. and maybe even through me. a terrifying thought, that the One whom words cannot capture, would move through me. i, a rotten thing, feel incapable of housing You, such a rich Thing. i believe in You. i believe You love me and us and everything. and in my head, i understand how the only way i could ever be with You was by Your volition and sacrifice, but i can't understand why. i may not need to, i suppose, but without the why, i have a hard time feeling at peace with accepting Your grace and love.

please help me. help me in my state of not wanting to be helped. in my denial of Truth and rebellion against Your love, help me, because i want to sing and speak to You again.

james

PS
i know you know this, but i thought of this last night and would like it to be the beginning of a song for You:

i'd stay in the darkness as long as it takes
i'll go blind for you because my eyes won't stop trying to see

Charlie Kaufman Can Suck It

i sign into this blog everyday with the full intention of writing something each time...and most days i feel like i have nothing to write. nothing to share. nothing to shout. so i don't write. today is no exception so i'm writing about how i have nothing to write about in hopes of sparking something in my mind that's more interesting than writing about writing and not writing. its like that movie Adaptation. the movie was about the movie. it was a rabbit hole of an experience, but i loved it. i watch the show Community (Thursdays on NBC) and a recent episode referenced this kind of an idea. poking fun at how thirsty our generation is for something that is so confusing and mind blowing that it bears the resemblance of a god we can worship. an idea i haven't considered, but after watching the show, completely realized and agree with. my favorite movie is Fight Club. you know, the one about those two guys who weren't actually two guys? confusion and twists excite me. which is another interesting thought: i hate unexpected things in my life. i like order and normality and control. there have been a few exceptions to that rule that were positive and pleasing, but mostly, the unexpected, the curve balls, the twists have been negative and painful. granted, those negative moments led, eventually, to a positive outcome of growth and learning. but on the onset of these twists, i still look on them with disdain and repel them because i don't want to hurt. so, what is it about me that is drawn to the confusion in stories while repelling it from my own life? as i think about it as i write about not having anything to write about, i think the following:

stories, through whatever medium, remove us from the pain and turmoil that actually exists all around us, even if only for a moment. and in our removal from the world around us, we tend to remove ourselves from ourselves, even if only in part. with all this removal, we're able to exist in a world where anything goes. the bad parts don't hurt and the good parts are more plentiful as we can make ourselves and our surroundings the best version of themselves we can imagine. so in my removal, i see myself as enjoying all unexpectedness that comes my way as an exciting event, full of hope and promise. in my belief that i can't do the best for myself (which i actually believe) i hope that there will be a twist coming soon to take care of that which i could not. and in stories, i'm the best at loving those twists. but in my real life, i still struggle against myself everyday, trying to make my own bed to sleep in with no hands. no ability to accomplish what is actually the best thing for me. not to mention what is best for the world around me. if only i could see the unexpected and embrace and encourage it like i do in my story world.

so, that'll be my goal: to not put too much stake in my goals.

and the best part about this whole post is that i wasn't expecting to write about not expecting things.


Charlie Kaufman can suck it. this shits totally getting a Pulitzer.