how quickly we forget

It is our God who created this world, how quickly we forget.
We stumble around as if darkness is unfurled,
we do things that we regret,
instead of simply dwelling in
the sunlight
we forget.

It is Jesus who died for us, how quickly we forget,
we live as though He's dead to us,
In the grave we lay in sin
when it is His blood
that paid for it
so soon do we
forget Him.

The Holy Spirit indwells within, how quickly we forget.
How quickly fear engulfs us,
how soon we turn to run,
how suddenly do we not realize
that we are not alone,
we have a helper inside of us
He is leading and guiding us
how very very quickly
do we now
forget.

And when there is a blessing, let us not forget,
let us dwell in thankfulness, never to forget,
and when the blessings all abound,
let us not forget who gave,
His life, Himself, His Spirit,
In all and through all made
complete and in His love for us,
the reason why we live
let us ever abound in thankfulness
let us remember
Him. 

Hugs

Hugs are so great,
hugs are so fluffy,
they make me smile big
cuz they are so comfy.

Hugs make me happy, when I am sad,
Hugs tell me its ok, don't you feel bad,
Hugs say I'm here for you, and always will be,
Hugs say I'm glad that you're here next to me. 

I like hugging you cuz it just feels right,
so please won't you come here and hug me tonight?

Looking for you.

Looking for you is like looking for one grain of sand,

it is like climbing a mountain that never ends,

looking for you is hopeless.

Its like you are the lighthouse whose light is to dim to follow,

and I'm the boat about to be dashed into the rocks,

if you could just reach out a little farther,

if you could just shine a little bit brighter,

than I could reach you,

but no.

Following you is hopeless.

It's like you are a butterfly flitting right above my reach, 

shadows dancing before me, taunting me.

Showing me what might have been.

What could have been.

Reaching out to you is hopeless.

Hopeless, hopeless, yet my heart is full of hope,

and hope says I will climb the mountain and reach the top,

hope says that you are this way, that I must continue,

hope says that you are within my grasp.

Hope speaks about our lives, and shows us the future,

and in the future there is no hopelessness.

There is only you.

And me.

Hope says that you will be happy to see me,

that you will take my hand and tell me how glad you are that I never gave up.

That I never stopped hoping.

I don't like hanging on by a thread of hope,

but sometimes that thread of hope is connected to something far better than anything we could settle for.

Sometimes its worth it holding on to hope,

even if the chances are slim, more slim than any thread.

I will hang on, and in my heart,

I will hope.

for you.

 

For the moments when I don't belong

I want to go home,
God please take me home.

I've been running in circles, my head now is weary and I feel like there's nowhere to go
Through fire and brimstone, conversing with strangers, the only place left is home.

I want to go home,
God please take me home.

To go to the place where I am accepted,
Where I'm free to live and in no way rejected,
To the place where I'm meant to be,
Home is where I need to be.

I want to go home,
God please take me home.

But there's alot more to run, and a long way to go
To cross distant shores, until my race is done,
I cannot go home, I must continue to run.
Till on the Horizon I and my Maker are one,
and then with a smile He'll tell me,
"Well done."

"You have done well," He'll look at me and say,
"You've completed the race, let us rejoyce today,
For my child has fought and never has stopped,
and with my strong hands I lifted you up,
and carried you here to the place you belong,
And now all of Heaven will join you in song,
for one sinner has finally come home."

Flying. I think every man has experianced this moment. The moment before something happens. When you know that right now something big is occurring; that what you choose at this moment will change the course of your life. A twinge in the pit of your stomach right before takeoff. An Olympian right before the race; a soldier rigt before battle; a girl right before the birth of her first child. Life is full of these crucial moments; and with them the choices we make that make these moments important. Its like standing on the brink of a cliff. You look down below and can't fully see the bottom: it is shrouded in a mist and fog so below all looks like a gray blur. It is hazy and you begin to have doubts about whether or not you should go through with this. Fear creeps up and lightning streaks across the field of your mind illuminating worries that you couldn't see before. What if I don't make it? What if this mountain was too high to begin with? What if there is something bad at the bottom that I don't know about? What would happen if I turned back now? What if I get hurt? You begin to consider.the possibility of turning around. Of making your way back down the mountain back down the road you already know. Your mind wanders to the road that brought you here and for a moment you think you can turn back. But then you remember the things that brought you here. All the pain and trails that have lead you to this place-for what? To turn around would mean for nothing. And then you think... it is for what is awaits, beyond the fog that shrouds the unknown. For the life you have to live beyond where you are right now. For the beautiful beyond that await beyond this bend. You can't go back now. And so you don't. With a victory cry that resounds of the rock you plunge headfirst onto your fears and watch them peel back like rain till there is nothing left but sunshine. As you drift through the clouds and onward you still are unsure that you made the right choice- but this is the life you have chosen to live. A life made to shine and to overcome. And that is the life I choose to live now. But i will jump knowing that You'll catch me. That the gray blur of the future is not unknown to You. And that You are calling me to jump out and shine. And I will do that and more. I will soar.

Brave

I am not brave.

I hide my face,

instead of fighting,

I run away.

Its not that I don't want to be

where you are

its just I'm more comfortable

watching from afar

I am not brave.

And so I'm here, 

writing this today

trying to say

what I cannot say,

to your face

I cannot be

everything I wish I could be

everything I wish I could say

even though I run away,

Though, in my head, to you I'll stay

And try my best to be

 brave.

The epic of the giant pink frog

I tis bored,
tis bored I am,
a strenuous, complicated predicament my friend
so instead of doing nothing, you see
I will sit and write boredom poetry
About duck, and chickens, cars and dogs,
about stars and moons and a giant pink frog
who tried to jump over Saturn.

"Don't do it," cried the duck and chickens and clucking away
the cars revved their engines and begged him to stay,
the dog covered his ears and tried to run away
while the stars and the moon just shone.

But the giant pink frog was adamant that was what he wanted to do,
So with a lot of sighs and tears and boo-hoo's
the giant pink frog jumped past the moon
and landed among the stars.

But there was one problem for the frog that he overlooked,
he forgot to read his science book,
that talked about oxygen and the need for frogs to breathe
but since he forgot to read
he couldn't jump to Saturn.

So the pink frog was really depressed, not to mention slightly compressed
because his lungs couldn't handle it,
but he gave one last leap with all his might,
and when he looked upon his right,
it was there that he saw Saturn. 

And then, in that instant he died,
and it was a sad goodbye
for he was the last of his kind
and the only to jump past the moon.

But his memory will be ranked with the greats
among ducks, chickens, cars, and dogs
and the stars and moon will never forget
the brave giant pink frog.

I miss home.

There was a place I could go,
where I could walk out,
and I know
that this was my home.

Where smiles surrounded me like air,
and love flew up from everywhere,
And freely I laughed, as I know
that this was my home. 

But then I went down the road,
and around the bend,
and when I looked back,
I couldn't find home again.

So I kept walking down,
down to the next bend,
where the road turned,
and so I went
till I reached another home.

And I was happy there, and sat for a spell
until the shadows came back and I grew unwell
with the wraiths of a smile, and complicated air,
and with feelings of love, that weren't really there.
And with a start, I realized
This was not my home.

So I tried to run back as fast as I can,
but the shadows followed me close as I ran,
and took me across to another land,
far away from my home.

And so I grew up, under the moon,
with the shadows to guard me there, and soon
like memories of a sunny day,
my memories of home began to fade,
and I forgot my home.

But now and again I shed a tear,
and remember that I am here,
far away from what once was known
far away from my home.

Someday I hope I might return again,
I'll walk around and around the bend
Till I reach my happy home,
Greeted with the smiles I once have known,
and maybe then I'll be content
For I have found my home again.
 

 

Memories

I like to dwell in memories,

Back how I wish it could be,

back to when the frost was green,

and happiness lept around unseen

among the smiling trees.

I like to dwell in memories,

back to how I liked it to be,

with raindrops as smiles, and sunshine and clouds,

when love was alive, and life was loud,

and so it shall still be.

For in my memory, you and I,

we jump on clouds and touch the sky,

and the sun shines down with its warming gaze

and melts all the sadness away,

And all the frost melts off the trees,

and happiness is once again set free,

and the sun comes out and the raindrops smile

and the rainbow decides to stay for awhile.

And then all the earth comes alive,

for in my memory you survive,

and dwell awhile with me,

alas, but only in memory.

I stand alone.
Watching the world spin all around me,
rejoycing in the love of others, yet never experiancing it for myself.
I stand alone.

Yet, I am never alone,
You are here with me always,
I am not alone.

Forgive me when I want something that you have not meant for me to have,
You have ordained each moment of my life,
You have counted each second and You are in control of them.
You have created a good life for me, every moment is for my good.

And yet I sit here, reveling in my own selfishness.
Blind to all that You have ordained.
Blind to what you have planned.
Blind to what is for my own good,
I sit here alone,
But I am never alone.

You call my name, but I don't answer.
You shower your blessings upon me until my cup overflows,
but alone I still sit, thinking about the one thing that You have not given me.

"It is not the time, Bethany."
"Be patient, and trust me."
"Open your eyes and see what I have given you now."
"It is good"

I am so foolish Lord,
My heart is so blind and selfish.
Thank you for opening my eyes,
Open my heart to know that You are all I need.
You are more than enough for me.
Lord, help me to see.

A slightly unacurate portrayal of what life is like oversees.

So, I live in Indonesia. And whenever I go back to America, especially when I went to public school, everyone would ask me what life is like living in Indonesia. So I thought I would write something telling how my life is like here.

Every morning I wake up around 4 in the morning to the glorious sound of the mosque and the cows mooing. I jump out of bed and go to the back of the house and take a mandi (a mandi is a type of shower like thing where you scoop the water on yourself with a big plastic ladle) in the well we own right outside our house. The water is cold and the air is fresh. 

After that is done, I go get my usual breakfast. Rice! I usually eat rice 3 times a day for every single meal, and sometimes for desert. I eat the rice with rice cakes and rice meat, so as to add some variety to my meal. 

On some mornings my father sits at the head of the table wearing a sarong, which is a skirt-like thing that men wear here, it is sorta like a kilt but longer. He sits and preaches to us in Javanese for 2 hours. Since there is three tinkats, or levels when speaking in Javanese, it takes especially longer for him to preach because he has to address my mother using one, me using one, and my younger siblings using another, so as not to offend anyone or use the wrong level. If you use the wrong level of Javanese then people tend to get offended, especially if they are a position of high authority and people have permission to hit you 3 times over the head with sticks, to punish you for your insolence. But my father is very good at Javanese, so he has received less head beatings then the usual foreigner in Indonesia.

After breakfast I go to school. Some days I ride the family's elephant, but my dad usually rides the elephant, so I end up riding the neighbors water buffalo to school. The water buffalo is a large cow with horns, that is used here for harvesting rice. The water buffalo is quite good for harvesting rice, for it is strong and can pull a heavy plow, and the farmer who sits on the back of the plow, and the little kids that ride the water buffalo while the farmer sits on the back of the plow, and the occasional farmers wife that sits with the farmer and the kids while the water buffalo is pulling the plow. It is a very advanced level of farming technology, that I think should be implemented in the states. The water buffalo rice is the best kind of rice, which is why it is eaten for every meal. But unfortunately, water buffalo's are not built for speed, so the 10 minute walk to school often takes 30 minutes while riding the water buffalo. Sometimes more if it stops to poop,  or it gets distracted by another water buffalo walking down the highway. But because of the delays I often end up going to school late.


Now, in American schools you get a tardy slip, or lose the perfect attendance award or something. But that is not the case here. Here, if you are late you get hit with a stick. And then if you come at the wrong time you also have to dance. Because in the morning we have exercise time, and so the whole school comes out and marches around the soccer field, and does aerobics to patriotic music, and sometimes to Justin Bieber. The music blares full blast from the speakers, so loud that the whole ground shakes from the bass. So if you arrive late, you have to dance in front of everyone.
 

For the moments I have no one to talk to.

I have no one to talk to. So I talk to myself.
And tell me whats going on.
It is a fascinating pastime, for it passes the time.
But leaves me feeling quite unsatisfied.

Because this world is so much bigger than me.
With sadness and pain and struggles for peace.
There are so many people and yet here I sit,
talking to myself.

"How's the weather today Bethany?"
Quite fine, today we had rain instead of sunshine.
"How was school today Bethany?"
It was great, for lunch I ate a rainbow cupcake.
"what's your life like Bethany?"
Oh its fine, I'm having a conversation with myself to pass the time.
"And does that make you satisfied?"
Not really, honestly it feels kinda silly,
to think that I, am talking with myself to pass the time.

So, up I get from this silly old chair,
this old chair that keeps me sitting here,
Up I get from my thoughts, my silly little thoughts,
this is the end of the conversation with myself.

My silly heart.

My silly heart, I fear has run away again.
Set off dancing in the breeze,
unaware of logic or reason,
 abandoned to reality.

My silly heart run as fast as you can,
spread your wings and soar,
only tell me when you decide to come back again,
so I can make sure you don't fall to the floor.

My silly heart has a mind of its own,
and with it comes joy to spend,
only I hope my heart stops being so silly,
so that I can be content.

What is now.

A flash. A blur. A sunset in between.
I must focus my mind on the things unseen.
To sing with the birds, and flow in the breeze,
I must learn to be still and wait.

As time hurries past, I must sit.
Not let myself be swept away, I must resist.
As God by my side, I have a new life
I must remember His promises.

Remember His promises, as life rushes on,
Remember His Word, not the things
that have gone.
Life is more than what's in front of my eyes,
I must learn to have life in Him.

My life is in Him.
The Giver of life,
He is all I need
I know He will provide.

Little dream

Sometimes, I close my eyes and see what is not there. Or what is not here. A story comes into my head, and I follow it, and wind around where it takes me. I think its called daydreaming, except I don't usually do it in the day, and I control where it goes, or at least some of where it goes. I always land in the middle of something, and the story goes from there, although I haven't a clue as to HOW I got there, but my subconscious seems to know where I am, so I trust and follow. Today I had one, and I will try and but into words what my strange mind visualizes.

So, I am on a rock overlooking the ocean. And I am happy, not because of where I am, but because of who I am, and who I am with. I am leaning against the shoulder of a guy, and he is playing the guitar. And he is rather good at the guitar, and I am rather content to just sit there and listen to him play. And I am rather content to rest there on his shoulder and look as the sun glows orange and the stars peek out, and the waves crash against the rocks. And I am rather content in general. My heart has a fuzzy warm glow to it, that resembles the glow of the fading sun, and bubbles over until I can't help but smile. I reach for his hand, and our fingers entwine and I sigh and pat his hand. He laughs then says, "You do realize that I need 2 hands to play the guitar, don't you?" I tell him that real guitarists don't need to use hands to play the guitar. And he laughs. I am a witty person. Then I decide that I shall appeal to my true lady-like self, and complain of feeling faint. He raises an eye-brow, and I tell him that I am about to keel over and die, so I maneuver myself so that I exert even less energy than the very little energy I was exerting, and am conveniently positioned in his lap. He smiles and begins to play with my hair. We sit there, in warmth and in comfort, while the waves break below us, and the stars come out above us. And I am content.

Yes, this is realistic.

When I get married, I want to have a husband like Adam Young. And he shall have brown eyes, and he shall be brilliant and see the world in a magical way. And we will go hunt down a rainbow and find the source of its color and then steal some of the rainbow color from the place that they store the rainbow colors, and put it in our house, so our house will look like a rainbow on the inside. And then, when the sun comes up, the house will light up with color and light, and the sun rays will be illuminated by the rainbows, so I will have sun rays, rainbow style beaming throughout my house, and it will be magical. And then he will make me breakfast and I will eat it and be in love with the world, and him, and my house.

The legend of couch potato

Once upon a time I fell in love with a potato. And the potato fell in love with me back. And i was super happy. I could definitely see a long and happy relationship between me and the potato. The potato could understand me inside and out, it could even finish my sentences for me, like all the cheesy couples do. Like one time I was thinking "Boy, I sure do feel like a..." and he filled in "potato" for me. And I realized that was exactly how I felt. The potato was so smart. I wish all boys could be like that potato was. And I wish all girls could find someone like the potato was for me. But sadly our relationship was not meant to be, even though I could have sworn that it was from the start. One day my father found the potato and decided that he was hungry and put the potato in a pot. When I got home from school, i found my potato in the pot. With a gasp I removed the potato, but it was too late. The potato was already too far gone. That night I cried myself to sleep. The day after that I could not eat, or do anything pretty much. I felt numb. I sat on the couch all day just thinking about my lost potato. The day after that was the same. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that. I could swear that I barely moved from that couch. After several years had past my father saw me on the couch and was like "wow, your like a couch potato!" and then doubled over in laughter because he thought that was the funniest thing ever. And from then on the term "couch potato" was used to people who just sit on the couch and don't accomplish much. Which I find to be slightly offensive. So, the moral of this story is: father's are not very sensitive, and don't fall in love with anything that dies when you boil it in a pot of water.
The end.

People wonderings :)

Sometimes I really really don't understand people. I mean, I love them, but I really don't understand. I think nobody really understands, although many people have tried. Hence all the philosophy and the physiology and everything else dedicated to understanding the human being. You can cut them open, you can take out all their insides and piece them back together. You can try to understand their minds and how they work, you can devote your life to study and to understanding them. You can live in different cultures, and experience different people. You can read books, and take medication. You can spend your entire life living among them. And yet, they can still surprise you. Their laughter, their kindness, their creativity, and even their cruelty. They can scare you, astound you, they can make you happy, and they can make you angry. There is so much variety, I don't think, we, as people, will ever be able to understand. But it makes me wonder, if there was no God, how in the world did the world get there? I mean, the fact that despite all the understanding there is, people can still surprise you, and I think will always be able to. How could all this creativity, and brilliance, and innocence, and variety show up from nothing? But, as I do know God, it just makes me wonder. Wonder. Because MY God, created all of this. What a large, complex God I must have that he would create all of this and still love me. I think as I will never truly be able to understand people, I most definitely will never be able to understand God. But I can be satisfied that, unlike people, my God will always and forever remain my God. And will love me even when no human ever could.

The only thing I can ask you to pray for is so that I will see God.
A constant glimpse everyday. I know that will make all the difference.
- Ha Ram Kang

Imagine.

Someday I imagine. The image is blurry, like it is out of a dream, like there is a film over the entire picture, the screen, blocking me from seeing it clearly, but I still know. Someday I imagine. I imagine the joy, I imagine the warmth, I imagine the laughter, I imagine that I no longer have to imagine, that I will have everything I need right there. There will be no need to imagine, for life will be beyond what I can imagine. It will be that feeling you get, when you are completely content, when you are completely happy. It will be the the galaxies and beyond there. It will be You. That is why I cannot imagine it, because you are too big for my imagination. All I need is faith.