Monday, March 15, 2010


Yes, I am a self-proclaimed sap...and proud of it! I can't help it...was born with the feel vastly and love deeply! So I am admitting to the world that I struggle with the concept of love sometimes. I know movies are movies and books are books, and that we can't compare real love to what we discover in stories. However, there is a part of me that is conflicted with that response. I believe that as people, if we are able to be moved enough to not only write stories/movies of such depth, then somewhere, someone has had to "feel" that intensely. In my heart, it can't just be dreamed up. How could the God that has given us the ability to dream so far not also give us the capacity to love just as great?

So the purpose of my post.....I have just finished reading Wuthering Heights. I have really enjoyed reading the classics lately. I love finding myself in a different time period, allowing these books to be my eyes into the way life was long before me. I was so excited to read this book, yet felt so tragically sad as I finished it. While the book was filled with rough characters, despising moments, and deep heartbreak....the common theme was love. Heathcliff loved Catherine, and Catherine loved Heathcliff. She spoke of loving him so much so that she felt as if his very soul reflected her own. Yet she married another, and they were never to be together. Other than a brief moment before her death, were they able to humbly confess their love and wrap themselves within each others arms. And Heathcliff loved none other until the day he died.

I realize that I may be spoiling the book for those of you who have not read it, but I think of their story and my heart breaks. How do you go through life loving someone with all that you are and never be able to be with that person? How do you find joy in life if part of you feels so empty? Maybe you don't, and you would react just as Heathcliff did....angry, bitter, hurt! I think we as humans can almost relate more to that storyline than one with a happy ending.

"The greater the love, the greater the fall.....except for the times, when love conquers all." I think I am going for a happy ending on my next read!

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The House That Built Me

I'll never forget the last time I walked out of my childhood house. I was home from college for the weekend. For whatever reason, my mother and I had been arguing, and I stormed out angry. When it finally hit me that the next time I longed for home I would find myself in another house, my heart completely sank. I sat outside, hiding myself between the one foot wall separating the garage doors, put my head in my hands, and sobbed. I knew, through my immature actions, that this was not the way to leave. My pride, however, kept me from reentering my house. And I left.

I left. Those words....that memory...still aches my heart with grief. I think about going back there often, knocking on a stranger's door, explaining who I am. Each time I am in town, I drive by and notice from the outside alone how much it has changed, and decide that I don't want my memories to be clouded by foreign images.

When I heard this song, it took me back. I am so thankful that no matter how far we are in life, we can close our eyes and find our way back home. When I close my eyes I find myself in my favorite childhood memories: Climbing pine trees all day long. Making forts underneath out of all the pine needles. Sappy fingers. The grove behind our house and the wild turkeys that would make it their nesting place by day. Sitting in, what felt like, a field of buttercups behind our home....and picking them out of our neighbors yard to bring home (which I'm sure they loved). The fresh smell of the mowed grass every weekend. Playing with the neighbors till dark. Riding our bikes everywhere. The color of the trees in autumn. The fresh air up on the mountain. The quietness and stillness up above city life. My moments with God on the brow....finding peace in all his beauty. Jumping off the back of the shed into our pool. Laying out on top of the shed. Water volleyball parties. My maple town world in our guest room closet. Playing on the stone wall, watching everyone enter the neighborhood. My church family. Carabining off the tennis wall...which I later knocked down with the car. The baseball field Dad made.......

I feel like I could go on and on and on. I was very blessed with a wonderful, loving, safe home. I love it so and cling to my memories because they made me who I am today. Sometimes I do feel a bit lost, not being able to go back to the place that stores so much of my heart. Yet I am so blessed that I don't have to go far to find it again.

"Won't take nothing but a memory, from the house that built me."