letters from barabbas

Looking into faces that have drifted from my inner circle made me sad this week. It's funny how transient relationships can be in college. But, transient as they may be, they're charged with a strange immediacy, an eternal connection that assures me I'll always smile fondly at the mention of a name, of those days when nothing mattered but to know and to be known, to explore what life has to offer in the recesses of others' hearts.
I can trace the arc of my social life plainly. Freshman year John and Kara and I stuck together tighter than siblings. We held each other up. Sophomore year Chi Alpha exploded into my life and suddenly I had a dozen best friends and a hundred buddies. This year I had to tone it down and be selective about where I poured my emotions. Some relationships were deliberate, some serendipitous; some I had to fight to keep and some I couldn't hold onto for trying.
I can't regret how things have changed, though at times I'd like to. I don't wish the arc to come full circle to a senior year of three incredibly close friendships. This will be a year of pouring out everything I have received thus far, to as many as He'll allow me.

*
Something good I read this week on one of my favorite blogs:

No two friends are the same. Each has his or her own gift for us. When we expect one friend to have all we need, we will always be hypercritical, never completely happy with what he or she does have.
One friend may offer us affection, another may stimulate our minds, another may strengthen our souls. The more able we are to receive the different gifts our friends have to give us, the more able we will be to offer our own unique but limited gifts. Thus, friendships create a beautiful tapestry of love.
---Henri Nouwen

*
Two things Josh calls crucibles: leadership and relationships.
Calla Maria has opened up my heart in ways I would've wished she hadn't seven months ago. You never know how ugly (and how beautiful) you are until someone is brave enough to show you.

*
Waterdeep was my only source of music sophomore year, but for some reason Lori's solo album took an extra year and some serious expansion to really sink in. It's a terrifying piece of art: about birth and life and pain and forgiveness and surrendering and being who you were made to be. Beginning and then ending to begin again. 1Beginning, she named it.
Maybe that's why I shrugged it off at first: I wasn't ready to begin.

you will always hurt
you will always sting
because you won't let go of everything
until you're quiet one dark night
and you give up the fight you've fought so long
and find that trust is not a game
that naïve stupid people play in youth
and you let it rain
you let it flood
you let it drive out all the pain
of love

*
This moment came one late October evening:

But it took me six months to get across the table. I was terrified. We're in the same booth now, finally facing forward rather than head-to-head. It's hard to find the balance between overlooking one another's faults and spurning one another towards growth. Some weekends we swing to an extremity, but He's teaching us to lay our lives down--a maladroit approximation of His gorgeous demonstration.

*
It's been good. Does life keep getting better and better? I barely understand those people who long so much to die. I yearn to be with Him, too, at ease in Zion, but that will come in good time--and when it comes, without time. So we must learn to do more than wait resignedly. This isn't purgatory, this is life! It isn't the end, it's the beginning!

fat tires and cigarettes
romeos and juliets
stinging losses deep regrets
that everybody hides
in coffee shops and magazines
choir lofts and college flings
did everybody lose their dreams out on the playground?

you can sing
you can believe
you can be anything you want
all the time
day or night
you can be anything you want