31.10.14

6:10

"There comes a point when you just have to accept the Gospel."
A point where wanting to be a better person turns into a discontentment that can be equated with self-loathing and really, really, really not liking who you are. And when you hit that point, you're eventually going to realize that where you are, how you feel about yourself—it's wrong.
The words quoted above are from an amazing friend of mine when I was telling her that I'm not that much of a fan of myself. In fact, when I look at myself, I see terribleness. Ugliness. A horrible, horrible person.
Then she told me to read Song of Solomon. Because she had, and it had overwhelmed her about how God, as she put it, is obsessed with us. Yes, she said, it's about a married couple, but look at it as the marriage between you and Christ.
So I did.
And I found this verse—6:10.

Who is this who looks down like the dawn,
beautiful as the moon,
bright as the sun,
awesome as an army with banners?

Read that again. But read it like God is saying it about you.
In his eyes, y o u are like the sunrise,
y o u are like the beautiful, silvery moon,
y o u are like the warming and brilliant sun,
y o u are like an army with banners.

You are b e a u t i f u l to him. So beautiful. So, so loved. Always. Forever. Undyingly (funnily enough, because he died).
Never forget that. Please, please don't. Truly.

Rebekah

25.10.14

I'm pretty darn excited.

This amazing woman and I hosted a real-life, absolutely amazing Open Mic Night at our church last night. Like, itactuallyhappened. It was so much fun. We sat there and listened as people played their instruments or read their words, and we just let it all soak in. It was beautiful. And it encouraged me sososo much, because remember this?
Now, of course, the two co-hosts were probably the most nervous performers. It was my first time reading something I've written out loud. In front of people. So when I did it, I was shaking. And I thought for sure I was going to throw up (same with her). Or laugh. Because when I was practicing, I couldn't stop.
But I did all right. The words—my words—flowed beautifully, and I think I got all the voice fluctuation and pausing stuff right. (On the pausing note, I love the way poetry is formatted for that reason. But that's a different idea for a different time.)
My friends, two very-used-to-performing musicians, thought it was hilarious that I was nervous. And looking back at it, I'm laughing too. But then? Ohhhhhh, Iwassonervous.

Also. I'm in the process of publishing a book of my poetry.
I'm excited.
And happy.
And ecstatic.
*Dances around giddily.*

And. It's autumn, and I'm in an autumn-y mood. So here's my (very) small playlist for this season: autumn. I hope all of you are having a beautiful fall—as beautiful and colorful and amazing as mine.
Rebekah

12.10.14

an excerpt [11]

   That’s when I realized what a true friend was.
   Someone who would always love you—the imperfect you, the confused you, the wrong you—because that is what people are supposed to do.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Rebekah
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