By the Phone

I'm sitting here waiting for a reply that won't come. At least not tonight. I know I can't and shouldn't complain but I want to talk. I just don't know what to say. I need to talk to you, but I can't. So I'll sit and wait by the phone in case, by some miracle, you decide that you might want to talk. About anything. I don't care. I just want to know that you understand that I'm here to listen and that I still care about you. I'm sorry.

I'll be by the phone. Just in case

122 Days

I was digging through my drawer to look for a pencil and I found it. A journal. I've always loved to keep journals, but I've never been good at consistently writing in them. This one was quite different though. I've never read through this journal that I wrote. I wrote it, tucked it away, and prayed that I would forget that it existed. You're probably asking why I didn't throw it away. . . well to be honest, I don't know. I just couldn't. . . can't. I wrote in this journal every single day for four months. It feels like it houses part of my heart. Today, I read through it.

I felt it all over again. The break in my heart. The ache in my stomach. The pounding in my head. I felt utterly alone all over again. This journal was back from the days that I went through a really hard time in my life. It was sophomore year and my best friend and I ended our friendship. I was absolutely broken. All of my worth had come from what my friend thought about me. I had my identity wrapped in what friends told me I was rather than what God told me I was. I didn't see myself as a true daughter of God. I saw myself as the outgoing, fun-loving, goofy girl that my friends told me I was. When they stopped telling me, I lost everything. I questioned who I was and what my purpose was in living. Luckily, my mom stepped up alongside of me and reminded me where my identity is really found.

It's funny that today I worried about who I am. What I live for. What I'd die for. What I love. What my hopes and dreams are. Where I'm going. And Who will be along for the ride. And today I found that journal where my identity was unknown and I asked these same exact questions. Today I asked because I want to know God's will, then I asked so I could know my will. Looking back, those 122 days, I lived in my own little world, only concerned about me. I don't want to live that way. I see how far I've come and how different my basis for identity is. Only God tells me who I am. I try so hard to follow His lead, but it can be hard. But the thing is, those 122 days showed my how hopeless it is to try to do it on my own. I can't. It has to be God that leads the way. His way is goodness, peace, love, and joy. Mine is not.

Kenzie Mason
Laying Down Myself

What to do?

What do you do when you stand in the middle between your heart and mind and nothing makes sense? What do you do when the crossroad seems so immense that you're drowning in the possibilities before even making a step? What do you do when your forced to betray your heart no matter which way you step? What do you do when you regret things that you've thought, done, and said? What do you do when the walls close in and you don't know where to go?

I feel stuck. Being pushed into things that I'm still thinking about. I jumped into decisions before I was ready, but how do you backspace in life? What do you do when you do the one thing you were trying so hard to avoid?

I just need time to think and until the time when I know, I have a feeling that I'll be standing at this crossroad, but it could be that things will change before I'm ready. When will I be ready?

Kenzie Mason
Laying Down Myself

Maybe They Are Right

I don't often say this, but I might be wrong about something. Vastly, indefinitely, unarguably wrong. I know it's a shocker for most of you. Just kidding. If you have read any of my posts, you see that I am so very very very wrong. But once again I have this fact thrown in my face. Let me put it this way. . . I'm going to tell you the situation, then my thoughts, then I will once again sulk into my utter wrongness.

Well to say the least, I'm a little stressed right now. Here are the things I have to do in the next two days and how long each one will take:

~ Finish ridiculously long project due Friday
Three hours for writing
An hour for putting together
~ Do Physics Labs due Thursday
I have 2 of these suckers
1 will take me about an hour
The other will take me about 30 minutes.
~ Study for ALL my tests on Friday
Let's see. . . 30 minutes to study for each of them
Calculus
Bible
Physics
~Try to function as a normal human being ALL THE TIME
Though that surely isn't going to happen.

Here's the thing, I'M FREAKING OUT! I hate getting bad grades and I hate feeling like I didn't do well enough so I'm scared that it all won't work out. Now I bet you're asking the question most people would. . . If you're so stressed, why are you blogging? First of all, I need a break for 5 minutes and secondly, I need to write it down to remind myself of something.

SOMETIMES I FAIL, BUT GOD IS STILL GOD. TOMORROW STILL COMES. I AM STILL BLESSED.

It's true.
Deep breath in. . . . . . . . and out. . . . . . . .
Ok well I'm going to continue to slowly chip away at my work and in doing so I admit that I am wrong. How well I do on my test or project does not make me any more or less than I am. Thank you for listening and reminding me of that.

Kenzie Mason
Laying Down Myself

I'll Lose It.

It sounds like I'm going crazy, and maybe I am, but maybe I need to. See I went to Radiate tonight and everything just feels like it makes more sense. I understand why I'm at this stand-still in my relationship with Christ. I keep catching these glimpses of what He wants me to do and to be honest, I'm just flat-out disobedient. Call me a bad Christian. Call me a hypocrite. Call me what you will, but I just find myself to be hungry.
I always want more. I want to hear more, see more, think more, but one thing I never want is to do more. In Radiate, we talk about Christ's life being split into three main periods of his ministry. There was the "Come and See" period, the "Follow Me and I'll Make You" period, and the "Come and Die" period. As we walk through our relationship with him, we walk through these stages. I think I've been doing what many Western Christians do. I get stuck in the "Come and See" period. I don't want to do anything. I want Christ to work, but I want to sit back and watch. I can't do that anymore. Sometimes I find myself wandering into the "Follow Me and I'll Make You" period. I have a hard time staying there and not falling back into the first period. This is mostly because I'm so prideful and convince myself that I can do it on my own without Christ. I take 2 steps forward and 18 backwards.
The one section I never seem to make it to is the "Come and Die" period. I think that every person who claims to be a Christian would say that they love God, but to what extent? My mom has often told me that love is often shown through sacrifice. Whether that is time, money, or pieces of your heart, it's always a sacrifice. If God is really worth loving as much as we claim He is, He deserves everything. A complete sacrifice of our life, but I find myself holding on to many of the things in my life. For many girls, I'd say we have a problem of letting go our desires for the future. Most of us want a husband, kids, and a job, but what if you found out you wouldn't get married, would you still trust Him? Would you be willing to sacrifice that for God? I honestly, question myself in this area. Am I willing to give up my future for Him so that He can do what He wants with it? The thing is I know His plans are much greater than mine. I can't say that my heart is completely open to the idea of not getting married, not having kids, or not having a job that makes me happy, but if He's calling me to it, I love Him enough. I'll lay down my desires so that He can work in me. Maybe then I can Come and Die.

Kenzie Mason
Laying Down Myself

The Rescue Mission

            His heart raced and his mind wandered. The entire school day, he’d carefully processed exactly how the next hour was going to play out, and as he stepped of the bus the only thought running through his mind was ‘And my time starts…now’. Step-by-step he walked the two blocks to his empty house still thinking. As he approached the front door, tears welled up in his eyes. As he turned the key, his heart broke from millions of pieces to trillions. The door swung open and the smell of his house overwhelmed his senses. He imagined these moments all day and tried to prepare himself for these feelings, but how did you honestly prepare for this? He’d say to himself, ‘Travis, you’re doing this to free them, not to hurt them’. Travis threw his backpack by the door; no point in doing his homework. He checked the time; fifty minutes until it was too late. He walked to his computer and opened Word to start typing the letter that he’d been planning out in his mind all day, but as the line flashed at the top of the page it erased every pre-planned word in his mind. Tears again overwhelmed him and after trying to stifle them back, sobs broke from his lips. He thought to himself,  ‘I shouldn’t type this. This kind of thing needs to be hand written.’ Then he wondered, ‘Since when were there rules for this kind of thing?’ Oh well, it felt better to him to write it. He found a pen and some pretty, baby blue stationary that his mom used to write official letters. The pen was firmly gripped in his hand, but he couldn’t control the shaking to be able to legibly write a single word. He thought for a second then in the best handwriting he could in his state wrote:

Dear Everyone,

         THIS ISN’T BECAUSE OF YOU; IT’S FOR YOU. I DON’T WANT YOU TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS ANYMORE. I DON’T DESERVE YOU.

                                                      I LOVE YOU,

                                                                        Travis

He had thought all day about what he was going to say, but these were the only three sentences out of the book in his head that he could manage. He glanced at the clock. Twenty-seven more minutes until his dad would walk in the door. He knew that if he was going to do this, and he was, he had very little time. He walked into his parents’ room, tears still streaming down his face. He stumbled to his dad’s nightstand and opened the little wooden box that kept his dad’s most prized possessions. Through the tears, he frantically searched for a small silver key. He couldn’t find it and almost thought that this wasn’t going to happen today until he moved a letter that Travis had written him in fourth grade for Thanksgiving. He thought that soon that baby blue piece of paper would lay there beside it. As soon as the thought came through his mind though, he shoved it away. He grabbed the key and half ran out of the room. He walked into his garage with the baby blue letter in his hand. The scene was almost set. Slowly and suppressing more sobs, he opened his dad’s gun cabinet. He looked through the many hunting guns that he owned, but quickly glanced past them until he found what he was looking for. He saw it, sitting there, promising him relief. He picked up his dad’s police gun. His dad was a cop, but on Thursdays he stayed in the office and did paperwork so he never took his gun. That’s why Travis knew that it was now or never. Rarely, did he get this opportunity. He did what he saw his dad do thousands of times at the shooting range. It was a little harder because of his blurred vision. He opened the gun to load the bullets that conveniently sat on the shelf below where the gun had been. He opened the box of ammunition and a chill went down his spine and an almost scream broke from his lips. He carefully picked up two bullets and with shaking hands lodged them in the chamber. He thought for a second about why, during lunch, he had decided that two bullets were necessary. He had thought, ‘What if the first one only leaves me in pain?’ That’s when he decided that he need two…just in case. Now as the gun stood, loaded, in his violently shaking hand, he realized that it would really be needed in case he would miss. Sobs overwhelmed him for a moment, but he regained composure when he realized that his dad would be home in ten minutes. He turned the safety off. Glanced at the shaking gun. Bit his lip. Lifted the gun to his head. Paused for a second. Took a deep, uneven breath and suddenly, the garage door opened. Travis’s best friend Brandon stood on the other side smiling, but only for an instant until he fully took in what was about to take place. He ran up to Travis knocking the gun out of his hand and tackling Travis to the cold cement floor. Travis sobbed, “STOP! STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Brandon, now breathing heavily screamed, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING, MAN?!?!” 

I think most of us has seen someone going through a rough time and ignored them. I know I have. Sometimes, it's just easier that way. It's easier to look at your shoes as you walk past them in the hallway than to stop, talk to them, and try to just sit there and listen. Honestly though, when I was in a low in my life, all I wanted was for someone to go out of their comfort zone, put their arm around me, and just listen. The best prevention of suicide isn't accidentally walking into the scene like Brandon in the story. The best way is to get out of our own little selfish worlds and look around and see what we so often don't want to see. My challenge is to do what the Bible says, 

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.

I have definitely struggled with this. It's hard to see what you don't want to see, but by opening your heart to being compassionate to the situations of others, we learn to love like Jesus loved. By doing this, I hope that this whole idea of depression in our world can end and that the suicide rates would drop to nothing. Love saves lives. The love of Christ has saved our lives for eternity, but the love we can give someone on earth might be able to save their earthly lives.

Kenzie Mason
Laying Down Myself