Look me in the eyes

I just have to share some thoughts of mine right now...

I'm just constantly at a gap for words with some stuff lately. And the way my mind works, is somehow I just look for a rhyme or reason like crazy till things that confuse me make sense. Something that God keeps putting in my head is this... how I just can't look into the eyes of Love.

Love confuses me unlike anything else ever has. At this point in my life anyway. When you don't understand how someone can love you so much, and you feel anything you have in return is just so lowly, it's not worth even feeling. And Love still bores into you with eyes absolutely overflowing for you...

God's Love is just unbearable to me right now. Any earthly comparison is not even a comparison. And that makes me just want to cry. I just don't understand Him... I just don't understand anything about God at all. The more I learn about Him, the farther away I feel I am from ever making sense of anything about Him.

I'm the kind of person who tries to make sense of things. I try to make sense of everything and connect it all together. Literally everything is connected in my head... yes I'm a girl and my brain is likely very much like spaghetti, all connected and all together.

If you're a male, and this blog confuses you already... just be thankful my thoughts can be contained in my head. And that you have the option of only minimal exposure to what goes down under this crazy hair of mine through my blogs and all that.

A vision I keep feeling like God won't let me get away from is this... Him. Looking at me through Love, and me trying so hard to get away from it. Cause it doesn't make sense to me. Like He's holding me in His arms, like I'm a stinking baby... and burying my face because I just cannot look in His eyes. Because it's too much. But He forces me to. He will not let me get away without meeting His Love. Without seeing it. But it absolutely destroys me... because I absolutely cannot get away from it, cannot make sense of it. Cannot understand it.

It messes me up. I'm completely thrown off balance.

It's a really emotional thing for me... it messes me up.

Imagine that. Seriously. I know this blog is all over the place, but I won't apologize for that. Just think about that though. Someone holding your face in His hands, refusing to let you dodge the realness, the depth of His love. Holds your gaze, will not let you hide. It's not enough to just know that He loves you. He will not let you get away... you will see it. You will see His love. What you do after that isn't the issue. It's that He will not allow you to escape without meeting His love.

It just breaks me.

It's like all masks fall off... all lies break... all barriers disperse... there is nothing in between His Love and you. His Love and me.

Complete and utter and entire exposure.

It's absolutely frightening. Terrifying. And so real. So so real.

I keep hearing Him say to me, "Shaina Joy, look me in the eyes." And it destroys me.

Music page

Hello world!

This is a link to the new web site Zach is making for some of our music and stuff... so of course I'm gonna post it here. Check it out my friends!

http://zachandshaina.com/

And now to bed!

A fab day

Today I went into the studio to track with the Clayton Jones Band. I sang my part for "We're Gonna Make It." It was awesome. From what I heard of it today too from the guys, it sounds fab.

I felt like I did an awful job recording earlier this week for a song Zach and I wrote called "I Wish I Knew Your Name," so I admit I was nervous to get back to recording. There's always that silent pleading, "Voice... please be there for me today, ok?" Today was fun. I actually enjoyed myself. I get stressed when I record sometimes. Let's just be honest. When you sing and write as much as I do... I grow to just barely tolerate my own voice. I grow accustomed to nit picking, and hearing the flaws. But then every so often, when everything is mixed just right in the head phones, and you just feel relaxed... it's just so much fun. You're there. You're in the zone. It's a beautiful thing.

So Zach and I are staying at Nick Kulb's place in Nashville... Nashville area anyway. It's dark and cold outside. But it's just fine. I have my soft black scarf still tied around my neck. My sweater on. And a mug of peppermint tea on the table next to me. Zach has his computer out, and he's working. It's just a nice peaceful moment. I love it. I love having a moment where no one needs to talk. You can just do your thing and just be. The hum and warmth of the heater is just bliss right now.

Even though I'm upset about how cold it is in and we're in the "south."

I'll get over it.

Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight. Wouldn't that be bliss? There's just nothing on my schedule tonight. It is completely and utterly fab.

Today Zach, Rob and Jared and I went apartment hunting, and met up with Clay, Chase, Tyler and Phil (from the band) at some burrito place with Luke and Stephen (producers) and his wife and daughter. It was a fun time:)

So I think I'm going to turn in for the evening shortly. Making up for "lost blogs" that found their way into my journals instead lately. I'm not even kidding, I've written for at least a few hours everyday in the past few weeks. I thought I had bruises on my fingers from writing a lot already! Good night moon.

A new dream

Three blogs belong to January so far. And now four. I suppose apologizing to myself is a silly thing to do, especially since it's not that I haven't been writing. I've been writing nonstop. Seemingly. I've been journaling a ton. Things I'd never think to blog about. I'm a writer. If you don't see new blogs posted, just assume the words are pouring out of me and landing in a different way. Sometimes I go back to the old fashioned way. A pencil and paper.

I'm in Nashville! I should be working on my Church in the City final right now, but since I took a ton of notes and got the idea of what I'm going to write, I decided a few moments to unravel might prove beneficial.

I love it here. Is it me? I'm not totally sure. But I think I'm learning something. Not everything is me. And it shouldn't require "being me" to bear it.

How could I imagine myself in a place, in a life I have yet to live? Sometimes life takes unexpected, and turbulent turns that throw us out the window. Sometimes our cars drift and hit the rails on I-70 on the way back to school, leaving us bleeding and bruised and crying before we know what really happened. Sometimes people say things we don't understand, and other times they say things we understand all too well.

My point is this: I think I'm going to live here. I want to live here. I don't care that it's very different than my life growing up in beautiful, flawless New Jersey by amazing Philadelphia and breathtaking beaches. I don't care that it's not 50 minutes away from St. Louis, and in the middle of thousands of corn fields. It's going to be a new chapter in my life. Something I dreamed of, but wasn't sure if it'd ever be reality.

Right now, I'll accept the fact that it will be. I'll accept the possibility of having "no life" working and making money to keep up on apartment/house payments and just pleading with God to let me get one cut on a song.

But you know what? That is thee life to me right now. It's the life I'm after, the one I feel set free to live.

A word God gave me over Christmas was this: I am pouring into you a new dream.

A new dream. Something different. Something I maybe wasn't expecting. Something that is not in my past. My future holds things not of my past. Even if the dreams of my past were beautiful, which I still think they are.

So here is where I am right now. I feel sort of stilled. Yes, I feel overwhelmed by a pouring in of other new things, but I feel like I'm just waiting to be filled. With new dreams. With opportunities that don't make sense... I'm waiting to be filled with new dreams. Maybe the new things in my life right now will start to make sense soon.

These are my broken up thoughts. I just needed to write. So, here's to a new dream. Many. Many new dreams.

Throat coat

It is snowing outside. It's been snowing all day. I've been very cold all day, and decided that inside is the best place to be. Though I can walk just about fine now since the car accident... I'm not about to add to the bruises that are just starting to simmer down.

One of the best parts of rooming with another voice major, is that Trina and I completely understand how we take care of "the voice." That's what we call it. We study "the voice." When we're going to bed earlier or something because we want to sound the best we can the following day, it's always understood.

Trina likes this tea called Throat Coat, and she uses it especially when her throat feels a little irritated when she sings. Especially in the winter, it's a good thing. She's given me some, and it is not the tastiest thing in the world, but it definitely affected my singing. It just felt like adding oil to squeaky tires.

The truth is this: what you coat my throat with, affects the way I sing. It's never a good idea for me to eat peanut butter before I sing. I know from experience. Some people are different, but it's just not the bomb for me. Trina can't have citrus fruits or things like that before she sings. It makes it difficult.

So what we coat our throats with affects the way we sing.

Today I realized something. What I coat my mind with affects the way I think. Obviously... no brainer, right? But really... in the same way things just make my throat all gross when I need it to be clean and "oiled up" ready to roll, my mind is the same way. I need it to be clean, and disposed of the crap so I can use it better.

The way I think of someone affects the way I think of them. That might not even seem like a complete thought, but it is.

If I ate peanut butter before singing a solo for Handel's Messiah (The Lord must look favorably upon me because I've never engaged in any such combat...) , I'd be doomed. Somehow what I just coated my throat with would be heard. You might know know what I just ate, but you'd all know it wasn't a good idea whatever it was.

In the same way, what I coat my mind with will be heard. It will sound ugly. You might not know what exactly the thoughts were that lined my mind, but you'll know it wasn't pretty. It makes its way out. What goes around comes around. And often kicks ya in the bee-hind.

So that's my thought. What we coat our throats with affects the way we sing. And what we coat our minds with affects the way we think.

You hold everything together

I know I haven't blogged about the car accident I was in four days ago, and I don't think I can yet. But I just have to say, Vespers tonight was the first time I was in a place of corporate worship since before the accident...

It blows me away that God meets me where I am. Every time. Worship means something new to me every time I worship, because I'm always in a different place.

Tonight, the first song Center, I just loved it. I admit to being even more emotional after the accident than I normally am. It makes me frustrated that I without thinking, just breath, and when the breath comes out, so do tears. And I'm not sorry. I can't be sorry. Hearing, and singing the line "you hold everything together," in that song just pulled the tears willingly from my tired eyes tonight. Because He held me together. He held me together, from being.... just from a very different story.

He held our car together. He held us together. The people in the car. He holds everything together.

And then when we sang The Glory of It All... that got me too. Because of the whole chorus... "The glory of it all is He came here for the rescue of us all that we may live."

God impressed something on my heart after the accident. That any scars and bruises, the stains of blood on my jeans, and the nagging headaches form the bump on my head... it's all like an imprinting that He was there. That He held everything together.

To rescue us, so that we may live.

So that we'd live, even though it might not have been that way.

Like I said, every time I worship, I'm coming out of a different moment in my life. The moments I've been living lately, have been really difficult, confusing and emotional moments. I'm alive. And I just don't even know how to piece everything together.

But He holds everything together.

And He held us together in that car. And He holds me together tonight as I remember.

He is so good. He is such a good God.

Dear Zachy-Poo

Dear Zachy-Poo,

You know, I don't even remember the first time I called you that... though I'm sure it was in attempt to mess with you. Today you're 22, and I'm pretty sure I will always call you Zachy-Poo no matter how old you are.

You don't hear me say it enough, but you are the most incredible man I know. You're strong, and brave, and talented, and skilled with everything you do. You have faith that is so genuine, that if it doesn't move mountains, it's because it moves the very earth that carries the mountains. You have vision that cannot even be contained in an earthly future, and intent that stops at nothing. You're a bearer of such an incredible flame and purpose for the Lord, and I think everyone who's ever met you can see you're somethin' else. Something big. Someone who has changed the world, who has so much yet to do, and someone who will never be repeatable.

Zach, you're so gifted. God has given you such an anointing (spin around, and bow...) that is so evident in you. I think your calling is just so huge, and alive, and I don't think I'd have the certainty of what God has called me to do myself, had I not seen it in you.

Your songs are the ones that grab at everyone's heartstrings. The ones that will make every lady fall in love, and every guy think, "well crap." cause he can't compare to you.

Your crazy eyes are the ones that will never let any drunk, smelly dude touch one of your sisters on South Street in Philly.

Your compassion and understanding for the people around you, is the kind that let's everyone know they're understood, and welcome, and somehow just safe.

Your dedication and devotion to the things that matter to you is the kind that will never let you leave empty-handed, or unsuccessful.

Your hands are the ones that make music ( "... and make music with our hands!"), and that reach to God, and touch heaven, and bring a little bit back down to the rest of us.

Your feet are the ones that leave footsteps that many have, do and will follow, because they lead to a place of rest and peace and restoration, even when you're not sure you feel at rest yourself.

Your arms are those that carry little Meli and Lena and beat up your big little brother till he's yelping and punching you in the back, because he wants just to be just like you and near you all the time.

Your passion is the kind that could shoulder boulders on your back, and catch stars with your hands, and spread rain in a desert.

Your voice is the one that people quiet themselves to hear when you stand behind them, because the worshipper in you releases a worshipper in them too.

Your laughter is the kind that breaks windows and makes birds fly away (or drop dead... maybe that's what's going on lately...) because it's higher than mine. I'm just being honest.

Zach, you're the guy I'll always compare other guys to. It's a shame, really. Because they'll never meet up to the standard you've created.

I will never think a girl is good enough for you. So you can give up now.

If you really want to marry someone someday, I'll find her. Because I'd rather go through the dirty work, than give anyone the chance to break your heart. I've heard it said, "break this heart, I'll break your face." That's why I wear high heels so often. I'm just being prepared.

When I look back at growing up with you, I remember silly arguments, and hilarious times that we'd get really mad at each other. And then we'd be fine. It's almost like being mad at myself. I don't like it. But it's funny, too. So i'll probably keep getting mad at you from time to time. Just for kicks if nothing else.

When I consider how ironic it is that we ended up going to the same college, I marvel, because it's like this... how could I possibly get any more blessed? I already grew up with you. I've known you my whole life. You'll unfortunately never be able to say the same of me, since you had two lonely years without me, but it's the truth. I can't believe I'm so blessed as to have you, my brother, my best friend, only minutes away from me at college.

The times you wanted to beat people up because they made me cry are precious to me. The times you screamed and jumped, and slammed me into the wall in your sleepy delirium because I jumped out at you and scared you in the middle of the night, are by far the greatest memories. The times we wrote songs together, and the times we at least attempted and then gave up because it just wasn't working out, are amazing. The now countless road trips to and from NJ to IL and vice versa are the sweetest times.

I can't wait to see where God takes us next.

I hope you have the best birthday in the world. I wish I could give you the world. You'd probably do amazing things with it.

Zach, I don't know who I'd be without you. You are my best friend, and God gave me something huge when he made me your sister. Even though Dad says it's stupid, I'd catch a grenade for ya.

I love you. Happy Birthday Zachy-Poo!