Posted by: bandaidchild | July 22, 2010

On the Up and Up.

In my other blog, I frequently utilized Matt Theissen’s brilliance as the primary writer for Relient K, so I felt it should be just as well on my new and improved blog.

Take a look at this fabulous writing. Relish. Ok….. Go.

Yesterday was not quite what it could’ve been;

As were most of all the days before.

But I swear today with every breath I’m breathing in

I’ll be trying to make it so much more

‘Cause it seems I get so hung up on the history of what’s gone wrong

And the hope of a new day is sometimes hard to see

But I’m finally catching on to it, yeah the past is just a conduit

And the light there at the end is where I’ll be

‘Cause I’m on the up and up, I’m on the up and up

And I haven’t given up, given up on what I know I’m capable of

Yeah I’m on the up and up and yeah there’s nothing left to prove

‘Cause I’m just trying to be a better version of me for You

A better version of me for You

To be prosperous would not require much of me

You see, contentment is the one thing it entails

To be content with where I am and getting where I need to be

And moving past the past where I have failed

But I’m finally catching on to it and yeah the past is just a conduit

And the light there at the end is where I’ll be

Never cease to supply me with what I need for a good life

So when I’m down I’ll hold my head up high

‘Cause You’re the reason why

yeah You’re why

I’m on the up and up, I’m on the up and up

And I haven’t given up, given up on what I know I’m capable of

Yeah I’m on the up and up so yeah there’s nothing left to prove

‘Cause I’m just trying to be a better version of me for You

I’m just trying to be a better version of me for You

I’m like a pot roast.

I like to stew on things for an undetermined amount of time until I feel it’s good and ready to be consumed. I’ve been thinking a lot about God’s Church, and how wonderful it is to worship with others on Sunday mornings, and how refreshing it is to talk of God’s Goodness, and less of the perceived thorn in my side. And about humility, and that I have to pinch myself as a reminder that God is on control, and that I need Him… always, not just when things are sunny side up. (I actually hate sunny side up eggs. But that’s not the point.)

Sunday I saw a woman in her thirties walk with her daughter to the front to be prayed for.

I watched her expressions as if I were flipping through pictures. Her hand motions, her eyes, her tears, her posture, really showed humility, or if nothing else, complete defeat.

and it struck me in a very stark manner. I know I am not living a life of humility like I want to, need to; and while I do express both pain and joy to God, I was reminded of how puffed up I can become. Not because I can play a set of drums, but because when all my puzzle pieces fit together, I walk away from the card table where He sits helping me, grab the car keys, and walk out the door to meet up with friends.

Seeing this very despondent woman laying everything out made me close my eyes and thank the Lord that He does not give up on me, and will wait for me to grow up. He wants me to come back to the table and look at all the other puzzles that haven’t been completed yet, and together we will sit, perhaps listening to Nat King Cole, and spend time together.

This isn’t me saying, “one day, I’ll be completely humble.” Because I don’t think that fully happens. But I can live with humility, and that will help me become the Disciple He wants us to be.

I keep wondering when I’ll burn my own proverbial paper trail. Instead I keep it organized in a notebook and study it, just to make sure I don’t forget all the ways I’ve failed. Even in this, I am acting with selfishness. God would love if I had a nice bonfire. I’m in the process of getting there, but it’s a little scary burning this book of mine, if you know what I mean.

Now? An awkward story.

On a youth group trip to Devil’s Lake in Wisconsin, I was convinced to come play baseball, and I only did because one of the cutest boys there cajoled me into picking up a bat. Unfortunately at this time, I was particularly. . . You could say, “gassy”, but I figured that my stomach would magically dissolve any of that before I stepped up to the plate.

Nope.

I think I swung and miss twice, and so at this point, it was on. The bases happened to be loaded, and we were losing. It was all up to me. I swung, and once the baseball made contact with the bat, an explosion happened from behind me. Like a rocket, my flatulence propelled that ball all the way past the fence. Even more awkward were the subsequent little guys that spurted out every step I ran to first base. By this time, everyone was laughing, hearing my little engine roar. I made it across home plate to everybody cheering, “GO BOOM BOOM!”

The rest of the week-long trip I was no longer Becca, but Boom Boom. My fart won the game. I know I’m competitive, but… I took a mildly large bit of pride in that.

Thinking back on this, however, makes me cringe. Really? I really did that?

(Thank you, thank you)

And goodnight.

-Becca

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Responses

  1. HA! Why in the world have I never heard that story?

    Good post, Becca. I’m looking forward to your bonfire. We should party and roast marshmallows. Perhaps make s’mores.

    Love you, friend.

  2. Roast marshmallows! YES.


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