Party Curse

[Warning: pity party ahead]
I have a party curse.
- I don't get invited to peoples' parties. It started in middle school when the snotty girls invited everyone but me to their birthday dance. It hasn't ended since. Nothing sucks more than finding out that people you hang around with an consider friends decided to do something fun and not bother to mention it to you until after the fact.
- When I plan them, people can't come. Even if they plan to come, on the day of the party, they don't show up.
- When people plan a party for me, they get canceled. It's happened more than once, the most notable time being my 16th birthday when my friends had planned a surprise party for me, and then a giant snow storm came and ruined it all.

I can't help but think it's because I'm not exciting enough to be a priority. Or maybe people are just afraid that I'll ruin something, so they don't invite me to theirs. I have a party curse. I really do. People have good excuses not to come but no one's there. My parties have to be postponed and no one can show up. Whatever party I plan just doesn't seem to work out how I plan it.

Okay, I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself because I had two parties planned this week, and it looks like neither one's really going to work out. My mom's turning 60 and I planned a good surprise party for her, but now she's stuck in Rochester with my dad at the hospital because he needs more tests on his heart. Goodbye well-planned surprise party. Hello "meet my mom for lunch if you can".
I booked a Lia Sophia Jewlery party back in March or something, because it got me a good discount on something I wanted, and there were a couple of other pieces of jewlery I liked but couldn't afford. The only RSVP's I've had have been "no's".

What's wrong with me? Do I pick bad days? Are people not entertained by the same things I am? Are they afraid that they'll be bored? Augh! Probably it's all in my head, and everyone feels like this. But maybe it's a party curse.

Take it from Here

I've had this song in my head for a few days now. I think God's maybe trying to tell me something through it.

Take it From Here by Christine Dente

I've been driving all night long
Trying to find a simple song
To cut through the dark
Lighten up the heart of a world gone wrong

One too many reckless days
Took a toll we couldn't pay
Now we're so lost
We never thought we'd end up this way
But we took off down the back roads
And we tried to go alone
Took the wheel in our own hands
But we couldn't make it home

Would You take it from here?
Cause we've carried on as long as we can
And You've made it so clear
We can't make it on our own
Could You take it from here?

So it goes the old refrain
We know we don't have what it takes
And it cuts to the heart
Lightens up the dark of the world we've made
No more trying to water
Seeds You haven't sown
No more trying to buy the time
We could never own

So would You take it from here?
Cause we've carried on as long as we can
And You've made it so clear
We can't make it on our own
Could You take it from here?

Tiffanie's Place

The house they live in is one of those old mansions that was probably built around the turn of the century when the neighborhood was new and beautiful, with long stretching lawns and no businesses around. Now it's a run-down former apartment building surrounded by businesses and other run-down houses. It's a little unnerving when you first show up to visit, but when you come inside, you are welcomed and you feel a sense of warmth. Tiffanie's decorated it with her own flare, with decorations that detract from the shoddy paint jobs, loose boards, and watermarks. She moved there with her family (husband and four kids) to "do ministry" in the ghetto through a church whose mission is to reach out to the urban community in our area.

She keeps her home like she lives her life--beautiful, with a welcoming air, not afraid of sharing her weaknesses and struggles. Her past is a long story full of scars and darkness, but her life in Christ is new and fresh. Just like her home, the outside might look similar to everyone else's in the neighborhood, but inside there is a contrasting peace and elegance. I want to be that way. I want to be comfortable wherever I am, willing to share my life and goods with others. I want where I live to be a reflection of that, no matter what neighborhood it's in and how old the house is. I want my friends to feel home with me.

I don't see Tiffanie very much anymore, because so many of the things we did together have changed. But I don't mind the chance to visit her in her "Haven in the Hood" and talk about things pertaining to life and godliness. I consider it a privilege.

a graduation poem

I wrote this for a girl I've known for several years now who just graduated from high school. I love her and really hope the best for her life.

For Taffi (Graduation)

You’ve grown up like a little rose
tender among the thorns
you fight to be heard
and long to be loved
even through the pain
even while the thorns prick at you every day
You’ve decided it’s normal
and it’s your lot in life
but sometimes the pain is more than your soft pedals can stand
and sometimes you wish you were dead
and you’d rather give up
than be hurt one more time
But still you rise. You bloom
and try again
hoping for the best
facing disappointment and loss
agony too deep for anyone else to understand

But you are a little rose
for all the beauty inside you
like a gem, glimmering bright there
amidst the thorns
Valuable because you are
beauty in itself
no matter who appreciates it
And you were created for a purpose
maybe you’ve yet to find
unfolding, as you live this life
like pedals that grow
full and bright
you will bloom
some day soon
and it will be hard to recognize you
from the place you began.

Little Rose, these thorns can be cut away
and we will all be amazed
at everything you accomplish
in those days
when you are raised from death to life.

Longing

On the same subject as the previous post, I wanted to add this. A couple of months ago my adult bible fellowship went through Beth Moore's "Patriarchs" study. I'm not one of those die-hard Beth Moore fans, although through the years I've gleaned some excellent things from her material. This poem she wrote and spoke at the end of the study (put to music by Travis Cottrell) has lingered in my mind since I heard it, haunting me sort of. It's her relevant application of the life of Abraham. How well it explains my heart these days, as I yearn for something I can't quite find.

Longing (Abraham's Song) words by Beth Moore

I am longing, longing,
For a place I cannot find
A place no one has told me
A land of a fairer kind.

You have kept Your promise to me
I have all a man could want
Yet I stare into the distance
I ache and still I long.
I'm surrounded by Canaan
Laughter echoes loud
I've loved and lived and followed
Built altars and I've bowed.
I'm longing.

(chorus)

O foolish man, O dreamer
ungrateful in my lot
Am I not here? Is this not dear?
What else could yet be sought?
Where are You, Lord, where are You?
Where is the home You, keep?
You came and wakened longing
Then You hid within the deep
And I'm longing.

(chorus)

I yearn to hear Your voice again
To feel Your presence near
You showed me there is
So much more, so much more then
left me longing here.

Somewhere beyond the stars
I counted one by one
A better country calls me
"Come home, true Canaan's son."

Getting In

Last week and the previous one, I helped with theatrical camp at my church. I got to write the devotion books for the kids to use for the two weeks. This year the play was about Exodus. Basically a kid's version of the 10 Commandments. I wasn't really happy with how the homework turned out, because to me it seemed too difficult for 5th8th graders. There were some who agreed with me, and others who thought they were great. Either way, the work I did on them got me thinking about the Promised Land. There's too much theology in there to explain where my thoughts ended up going, but since then, I've been thinking about heaven and wanting it more and more.
I know that we get to experience God here on earth and find home in Him, but I've felt so unsettled ever since I lost Grace. I want to be there now, where the pain will be gone and I can just hold my little girl and see her in the true image of God. I don't want to live through this life and watch bad things happen and try as hard as I can to be like Jesus but continually fail. Some days I'm tired of the dim glass we have to look at God through. I just want to be there with Him.
It's probably just a piece of my grief surfacing. Lately talk of heaven or songs just cause me to well up with such strong emotions that I cry. I hate being that way because I never used to be "emotional", but there's no way to change it. I want heaven. I want Jesus. I want to see God and know Him fully.
I've been familiar with this quote for many years now, since my brother-in-law attached himself to it. I discovered it about the same time as he did, but it's his, so I haven't used it like it's mine. But these last few months, it resonates so true with me:

"At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of the morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in." C.S. Lewis

Some day.