edna st. vincent millay

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;

Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink

And rise and sink and rise and sink again;

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,

Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

Yet many a man is making friends with death

Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,

Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,

Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,

I might be driven to sell your love for peace,

Or trade the memory of this night for food.

It well may be.

I do not think I would.

God says

I’ll give you what you need, when you need it.

his eyes

Church on Sunday notes in my journal:

Nov. 15, 2009, Sunday

When Peter walked on the water, Jesus said, “You of little faith. Why did you doubt?” but he got out of the boat, right? Why did Jesus say that? Because his eyes deviated. He made the situation about the waves instead of intimacy. It is always about love – about being with him. It’s never about the impossibilities.

Whenever we focus on the natural – what we can see, feel touch – we think with boundaries, but he says to us, “Where are you seated?”  and the answer is “with Christ in heavenly places.” We can never lose that vantage point.

“It’s about us.” he says. “It’s about you and me. That’s my favorite part.” That’s all that matters. He’s especially fond of me and all he wants is to spend time with me. There is a perpetual invitation for intimacy.

 

love songs and pretty things

undone

your love comes from behind

and like arms on each side

-a quick breath of surprise-

it wraps me inside.

i’m not cold, but here I am shivering.

i’m not sad, but my eyes are filling.

though quiet is your song.

my heart has heard and sung

of your unrelenting love

that leaves me here, undone.

blame it on my youth

If I expected love when first we kissed,

Blame it on my youth.

If only just for you I did exist,

Blame it on my youth.

I believed in everything like a child of 3

You meant more than anything

You meant all the world to me.

Don’t blame it on my heart,

Blame it on my youth.

It’s scary to hope for love. It’s risky. This old jazz standard, the version playing on my iPod (thank you, Rone!) right now by Jamie Cullum, says a lot I think about faith. Well, mine at least. The writer dismisses everything he’s feeling, dismisses his falling-in-love experience as merely a result of his youth. Don’t blame it on my heart, he says. I can’t accredit these foolhardy emotions, this belief in something incredible, to my heart – the core of me. No, it must just be a result of the fact that I’m still a child. It’s childish to fall in love. It’s childish to hope for, to believe in something good. Something that takes your breath with its surprising whimsy and magic – love.

I think I find myself in that place, asking that question. “Do you have any magic for me, God? I hear of signs and wonders that you’ve done – healings, visions, prophecies. It’s all so beautiful, so mystical. Do you have that for me? Can I be swept away by you without letting skepticism in?” Faith like a child, he says. Wipe away that cynicism… My questioning heart wants to blame it on my youth though. It wants to dismiss my hope saying,  “I’m just young and foolish.”

But the reason I say that is because I’m afraid of getting hurt. I’m afraid of disappointment. If I say I wasn’t expecting anything in the first place then I’m safeguarded against the dry-mouthed, stomach-twisting sensation that happens when hope is deferred – when I come to that sobering realization that I’m a fool for wishing.

I went to Christian school. I used to get caught up in the code of Christianity. I knew that if I “loved Jesus” that I would wear modest clothing, I would read my Bible daily, I wouldn’t kiss my boyfriend, I would write little notes with verses on them to my friends. One day my dad reminded me, “Natalie, the work of a believer is to believe.” Oh. (a sigh of relief) That’s all? That’s all I have to do? “Yeah.” These days though, I’m understanding the truth of that statement in a different way. It IS work to believe! It’s complicated. It’s like, these are my desires, God. Which ones are from you? Which ones should I ask for? Which ones should I really believe for and which should I not be too disappointed if you don’t grant them promptly?

And then I bet him he can’t find me a place to live. I give him a lot of guidelines. “God, I need a short lease, I need them to allow 2 people in a studio, I need a parking spot, I need it close to work, I need it in West Hollywood, I need it cheap. I bet you can’t do it.” And he says, “Ok, I’ll see your $850/month and raise you $750/month, utilities included and a Trader Joe’s a block away.”

He’s like, “Natalie, believe already! This has nothing to do with your age. Blame it on your heart goshdangit, because I’m there. I’m teaching you how to hear me.”

dancing pilgrims

So the latest in my life is that I’m getting settled here in LA. Julie and I LOVE our apartment, we still love the place most people call church (we call it Expression…that probably explains why we love it), I’m strategizing new ways to pursue music (do you like the new videos on my myspace?), and I have a couple of jobs. Now, if I could only find my way out of work for a few days to set my heart straight and visit Nashville. And find a way to get home for the holidays. And buy internet. And a parking zone permit. And a kitchen table. And a couch… And pay my college loans? Hm. The ever elusive dollar bill…

So, earning money: While I’m still in training at Starbucks and awaiting the whims of the mother’s I nanny for,  I’ve been searching craigslist daily to find one-time income sources.  So far, I’ve come across a few gem positions such as one that began as “curtain operator” at a kids ballet production in Hermosa Beach and turned into the official “cupcake hander-outer.” I spent the first half hour alternately taking ticket stubs and handing out overly frosted halloween cupcakes, then for the next hour I watched hoards of tiny pilgrims with garish make-up and ballet slippers tip-toe by me and prance into the theatre. I drove a ways for that one but I couldn’t bear taking the promised $25 she was pulling out of their “Donations Only” can for me. She smiled big, handed me a $20 bill and thrust a single white rose at my chest, “Thank you so much!” she exclaimed.

Hey, it’s not much, but it’s twenty more dollars then I had yesterday! And now Julie and I have our first batch of fresh flowers. Well, flower.

final, special touches

God is funny and he knows us. I imagine him grinning when he does things like:

- not only send my sisters to SPU but put Allie in the dorm room I had freshman year, adding an extra sense of comfort and familiarity.

- not only let Joel and Lauren get married but re-fill the hairspray container after we were sure it was completely out  and we still had 4 bridesmaid’s hair to finish.

- not only give me a gig in Laguna, but let me meet a handful of people who will perhaps be significant contacts for the future.

- not only give us a church but a family with whom we feel comfortable, cared for, and at home.

- not only give me amazing friends in Nashville, but giving me means to go see them soon.

- not only give me one job but 3.

- not only give us a place to live but put us ONE block away from Trader Joe’s and THREE blocks away from my new job. (more on this amazing tale in Julie’s blogpost.)

He’s a little over the top in the best way and I am unspeakably surprised and relieved each time I see it. My life lesson? He takes CARE of us. I’m starting to remember that first, rather than after all my worries.

the hardest part

Vs. 1
If I stay, I think I might waste away
But you say wait, oh wait for my direction.
If I go, surely I will know
Every answer to all of my questions.
 
Pre-Chor
So please just let me go
There’s nothing here to hold on to
 
Chorus1
Waiting is the hardest part
When you know you’ve got a wayward heart
That’s beating so loud
You can’t keep it down
Enough to listen.

Vs. 2
I will stay and I hope to waste away
Go through your fire and rain, a wealthy recession.
I’ll let go of all that I think I know
Where you want me to go is my only question.
 
Pre-Chor
So please just hold me close
You’re all I have to hold on to
 
Chorus2
Waiting is the sweetest part
When you’re holding out your wayward heart
Giving it away
To someone who stays
Around to listen.

list of good things

1. Had a fun writing session in Santa Monica today. Looking forward to continue working with positive, energetic people.

2. Matt and Aaron have an apartment and they move in on Monday!

3. Going to The Marine Room in Laguna beach on Tuesday to listen to live music with my new guitar teacher, who is helping me get a spot on the regular Tuesday singer-songwriter set.

4. Taking guitar lessons and learned how to play the D chord in three ways.

5. ANNA BRAWNER IS COMING ON WEDNESDAY!!!!! A little bit of Nashville coming my way and I couldn’t be happier about it.