A song that stopped my heart

Feeling like a refugee, like it don't belong to me
The colors flash across the sky
This air feels strange to me, feeling like a tragedy
I take a deep breath and close my eyes one last time

Storms on the wasteland, dark clouds on the plains again
We were born into the fight
But I'm not sentimental, this skin and bones is a rental
And no one makes it out alive

Until I die, I sing these songs on the shores of Babylon
Still looking for a home in a world where I belong
Where the weak are finally strong, where the righteous right the wrongs
Still looking for a home in a world where I belong

Feels like we just failed while our hearts are just breaking
Feels like we've been fighting against the tide
I wanna see the earth start shaking, I wanna see a generation
Finally waking up inside 

Chorus

This body is not my own, this world is not my home
But I still hear the sound of my heart beating out

On that final day I die, I wanna hold my head up high
I wanna tell you that I tried to live it like a son
When I reach the other side, I wanna look you in the eye
And know that I'm alive in a world where I belong

I still believe we can live forever
I still believe in us together
You and I, we're here together now
Forever now

The Ocean Blues

Today, this is where I want to be.

Living in Chicago with my husband and dear friends is spectacular, but coastal North Carolina will always have a special place in my heart.

After long, sweaty shifts at Panera, I would hop in my car and drive to the island.  After changing into a swimsuit inside a grungy public restroom, I would mosey down to the water and spread out my towel.  Sipping a cherry limeade and listening to music was pure relaxation.  Pure bliss.

Oddly enough, I miss the sand that would peskily get lodged in my cell phone.  I miss the painful sunburns and the frustration of forgetting my sunglasses.

The beach is beautiful, and I think I took it for granted.

Yesterday

 

Living in Chicago is great.

Hmmm...

I wish I had more time to blog.  I would experiment with my layout, upload breathtaking photography, find inspiring quotes, and maybe even host giveaways (how fancy!).

Alas, I don't.

It's not like I have no free time.  I suppose that I could make it happen, if I wanted to.  But I'm not very good at prioritizing, especially since I've gotten married.  When my wonderful husband is home, my backpack remains zipped shut, and my homework is left untouched.  And I don't mind.  I get to it, eventually.  Same with blogging.

Do you guys ever feel behind in the fast-paced world of blogging?

This feels normal.

Josh and I have been married for nearly three months now.

Our wedding feels like a long time ago.  The engagement, even longer (thankfully).

Puffy eyes and morning breath.  Lazy meals of macaroni and cheese with hot dogs.  Sweatpants and television.  Some days, lively chatter, other days, quiet contentment.  The apartment isn't always clean, but there is always hot coffee in the French press and several cartons of ice cream in the freezer. 

We have heard over and over, "Your first year will be really tough."  Sure, we've had a few tense conversations, but we've never gone to bed angry.  Living with your best friend is "really tough"?  It seems pretty easy!  I suppose we could argue about how to fold laundry, or how to arrange the furniture, or how much money to spend on groceries, but those things don't matter too much.  I think the "really tough" aspect of marriage is the absolute transparency.  My husband and I know each other intimately.  Our selfishness, laziness, and general quirks are on display to each other!  If we were to wield this knowledge selfishly, stacking next to it our own expectations, we would easily become critical, manipulative, or malcontent.   However, if we use this knowledge with wisdom and gentleness, then we strengthen and encourage each other.  So far, I think we are.

Married life is now the norm for us.  Normal is good, morning breath and all.

Friday Morning

The sun pouring into our little apartment.
The kiss on my sleepy head.

The French-pressed coffee.

The textbooks and unsorted mail cluttering the dining room table.

The dirty dishes in the sink from last night's pasta dinner.
The feeling that I am behind on schoolwork, but not behind on life.

The Lord is ruining my perfectionism, day by day.  I can't do it all, and I can't be perceived well by everyone.  Surrendering my neurosis is not easy, but it brings the adrenaline of new life.  There is grace, and there is a God who loves me with frightening extravagance.

Have a wonderful day, ladies.  I think I'd better wash the dishes now.

Faith Spotlight

Hello, everyone!  Today I am visiting Jennifer at The Blair Affairs!  Hop on over to read more!