Into the Mysterious Dark

When he texted this to me, the force of its blow struck me so deeply, I could hardly comprehend he'd sent it to me. My immediate reaction, of course, was anger. "Why would you wait for me then?" His response? "Because you promised me you would change. And I believe you." Verbatim, this is the conversation that ended my last relationship. If you can justify giving it such a title. Never mind that this relationship was long distance; that, honestly, was the least of our problems. We had seen each other, had face-timed, had seen countless pictures of each other, video, audio, you name it. We had shared so much together, our pasts, our hopes for the future, our passion for music, and for God, and this was how it ended. Over how much I weighed, and how quickly I would lose that weight. Let's forget about the fact that I had just started to trust him, and to allow him some room in my heart. I really thought this guy could be it, the one to be diffe

There have been three people in the course of my life that have ever called me "Jenni" (for the sake of consistency to my new nickname, I'll be spelling it with an "i"): my uncle, a REALLY cute guy I knew at school, and a guy very recently introduced into my life who took me by surprise in calling me Jenni. I've been known as Jenn since first grade. You want to know why? My first recollection of being called by that name was while I was being bullied on the playground during recess. This boy (I was always bullied by boys; girls too, although they were meaner about it) was calling me names, and called me Jenn when, up until that point, I had only ever been known as Jennifer. Being that young, nicknames hadn't really made any sort of impact on me. I can remember so vividly going home with my carpool family that afternoon and telling the carpool mom about this boy, and that he'd called me Jenn even after I asked him not to, and told him outright t

Listen. You may think you know me. But you really don't. And I don't know if you'll want to. --I have a confession to make. You don't want to get mixed up with the likes of me. I'm messy. And filthy. ...I can't handle myself. I curse more than I should. I put myself down to avoid facing the wounds of my past. And I'm terrified of anything new or beautiful, unless it's on my terms. Do you still want me? After all this time, I'm still afraid of anything beautiful or alive or bearing any semblance of true reality. ...I really do have a confession to make. I honestly do. I'm loud. I'm the girl that sits in the corner because everyone is too afraid to talk to her. So she stopped saying what she really thought. Until the Light touched her. And now she's free to speak, free to love, free to smile... but she still is silent and afraid Have you ever met a dog that's been hit too many times? How t

I've had a journal entry pulsating in my thoughts like breath through lungs for weeks now: What is wrong with me?  ...I'm such a hypocrite.  Like a starved and travel-worn beggar, I was given the food and shelter I so desperately longed and called for, and the second such comfort, companionship, and safety is known, all I want to do is flee.  Like a cave-exiled creature so bereft of the light of the sun that its eyes have glossed over with blindness. This lack of sight is so intense that once sunlight, the warmth of what is truly good and true and beautiful, reaches those seeking pupils, the creature shrieks in agony and scurries back into its hole.  I've tried to journal about this for weeks, but I can never get past the greeting of the entry. I always freeze up, and throw the blank pages across the room.  Hypocrisy in one of its truest and most acute forms is that hypocrisy which lends itself to questioning that life we begged to receive, but once

"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen." I cannot tell you how many times I've been given this "consolation". You may be wondering, what is this about? Isn't that a bit cryptic? Well, in this case specifically, this is in regards to being single...and wanting that state in life to end. In the best way, of course--that being in a relationship which (goodness willing) would lead to marriage. And the above quote is what I have been told, even rather recently, as a condolence from an acquaintance who is no longer experiencing that state of constricting singularity, and will be married soon. Why is it that as soon as people who understood the longing and pain in your heart when they themselves were single, after the start of a relationship in their own lives, have no idea how to relate to you? And, surprisingly, have no idea how to understand the pain of your own longing, the longing they themselves just had? Why is

There is no great introduction to such a post. No fluffy or catching words to hook you, or to make you want to read more. To be absolutely honest, this started out of a deep hurt and anger at words thrown at me in an article I read today that stated, blatantly and without remorse, that those who say, "All Lives Matter" are racist, even if they don't realize it.  How on Earth am I allowed to respond to this? To the absolute horrors we all have been witness to? Yes, racism still exists. Anyone who denies that is an idiot and is incredibly ignorant of the world and the evils that exist in it. But how am I supposed to respond?  Do I have to be a celebrity in order for me to say, "All Lives Matter" and have it mean something? You know why we're responding the way that we do? Let me try and explain where the #alllivesmatter response is coming from, at least from me and those I know who truly believe that. Am I proud of the fact that our

Greetings from the great beyond. I hope your travels have found you well, and that your perusing this page will bring you a greater awareness of relevant topics, or at the very least entertain you in the slightest. No introduction post for this blog. Let's jump right into the good stuff. The title of this post is Emotion and Holiness. A weird title, right? You'll understand what I mean the further you read. The germ for this blog began with my showing my younger brother a trailer for an upcoming movie called, "Last Days in the Desert" starring Ewan McGregor. (For those of you who need a little memory jog, he played Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars Episodes I, II, and III.) The said McGregor plays both Jesus and Satan, in what is called by the filmmakers "an imagined chapter" of Jesus' journey through the desert before He began His ministry which would lead, ultimately, to His death on the Cross. (You can view the trailer, and a lot of other cool stuff