l5p

I just got back from l5p in atl. Much different than what I had expected. Much. Some amazing vintage shops. I am always being accused of being part hippie. Though I don’t look it often, my preference is to dress “vintagey” or urban if you will. I’ve always been the girl with the long hair. Often in braids & head bands. Wearing peace signs, holding them up promoting freedom & what not. Never was into the drug scene which I guess would push me arguably the other direction, since that tends to be characteristic.

My disclaimer on this blog is that I will not tell you one way or another my stance on drugs. The purpose of this blog is neither to bash drug users nor to promote them. Take my words for what they are. I have a lot of friends that are currently or have been into the hard drug scene; therefore, I am not one to judge them. I care about the general well being of all my friends. I love them, yet I will allow them to make their own decisions & no matter what the outcome may be, I will always be there for them. I do my best at clinging tight to my belief that life is a gift that can be taken from us in an instant. That is my disclaimer. Now maybe you can listen to my story with an open heart.

Going to l5p, you have to have a free heart. An open mind if you will. If you don’t have an open mind, you will drown in the place. The place will either leave you scowling or it will leave your eyes open to the things around you. Perhaps give you an appreciation for what people go through. The latter was my experience. Many times I worry that my tolerance for things will eventually lead to my acceptance…like tolerance often does. Yet, at the same time, my experiences have only led me to the discovery of myself. It forces me to question who I am. And that question I am still in search of.

I can honestly say that I have not been around a scene such as l5p before. Perhaps it has been my somewhat sheltered life. I remember very little about the heaps of marijuana in Antigua other than the nauseating smell & the pitch black night. I also remember the same nauseating smell at the concert I was at a few weeks ago due to the large amounts within a small area. I have lived with drug users & abusers. I have sat also sat up at night praying to God that they would come back safely due to ignorance & irresponsibility of their drug use. I have lived in a small capacity with the worry that they would not come back. This time in my life was very short lived, but I’m sure it will not be the only experience in my life such as this.

Honestly it took me a while to get used to being downtown in this spot. Parts of it I loved. I love anything that is different. That goes against the status quo. I hate conformism. Just as everyone else claims to hate. A nice man with a guitar played me a song. Musicians line the streets with their instruments hoping to earn a little money. For what? I have no idea. Alcohol & drugs? Most likely. But the honest to God truth is that I don’t really care what they are using it for. All I care about is loving people & showing them the Truth. Showing them the Light…the best that I possibly know how. It reminded me of new york. I’ve never been to new york, but I imagine that musicians in new york must be something like that.

I also met another boy. Thin, yet attractive. Taller. A little dirty, yet stylish. Kind of a little bit of punk rocker looking I suppose. As I rounded the corner that most of the “druggies” sit at in bulk I peer over to my left & there he is. Lanky. Smiling with one of the biggest grins I’ve ever seen. And waving like a mindless idiot. Making it virtually impossible for me not to smile & wave back. From this stage he proceeded to tell me about his large amount of pcp intake & that he wanted to make out with me. I am 22 years old. I thought I had heard every line in the book. I was wrong. Haha. I laughed embarrassingly loud & I shook my head assuring him that I was not interested & continued on my way. Bless his heart…but I have been thinking about that boy all night. I have been thinking about the majority of people I ran into tonight. I am thinking about those homeless men lying on the street with nothing. My concern isn’t so much about their drug use to the point of it overtaking their lives. Instead I suppose it should be about the condition of their souls. Most of me wonders what in their lives drove them to an option such as this? How much pain must a person endure before they give up the fight for life? It reminds me of a song I heard earlier. I wish I could remember the lyrics, but I think it said something like… “whoever told you that life wasn’t worth the fight was lying.” I don’t really know if those were the words, but you get my drift.

The change that needs to take place in my very own life seems overwhelming to me most days. My cold heart needs to change so much that I know that I can not do it alone. Only the God of the universe. The Creator of my very soul can heal my wounded heart. Can clear my clouded mind. Most days go by & I don’t even think about Him. I then feel shamed that I can’t even make time for the most important aspect of my life. This in turn I feel has accounted for the majority of my confusion. I have let society dictate who I am. I have let society tell me that I am not good enough. Not thin enough. Not beautiful enough. & so on & so on.

I so desperately want to be a woman of character. A woman who puts God first. Yet why is it that I am always filling up my life with everything but Him? Why is the only stable unchanging thing in my life the only thing that I put on the backburner? These are the questions that I ask myself. Why is it that He loves me so much to the point of death & I forget Him? My relationship with Him has been hanging by a mere thread. Honestly I’m tired of living like that. I’m tired of living with doubt. In my heart I know the Truth, yet the world tears at me. It makes me question who I am. Certainty is something that I ache for in a world that is so incredibly uncertain. And certainty can only be found in Him.

My mom & I were on our way to get our car to go home when I said, “all of these people are just living to die.” Living to die. Think about it. Eat a sandwich & ponder it again.

I don’t just want to live to die. If we are all just living to die, then what’s the point of living at all? I want to live…to truly live. I want to live to ache for other people. I want to live to ache for His heart. These are the things that recently I have forgotten. I have lost sight of my passion in life. I have unfortunately lost sight of His heart. I haven’t heard His voice speaking to me in so long. Solely on account of the fact that I haven’t been listening to it. I miss Him. I miss His voice. I miss my certainty. So many things in my life have seemingly fallen apart. But I must trust. Trust that He will restore my life. my heart. my entire life.

I realize that veered slightly from my original story, but those are the things that needed to be said. I walked past that boy I was telling you about once more. As I had already passed he yelled out something to this extent… “do you want to adopt a hippie!?!” of course referring to himself.

Well…you know what?

I think that I would actually love that.


I think that I would love to adopt a hippie.
I think that I would love to adopt a druggie.
I think I would love to adopt a homeless person.
I think I would love to adopt a prostitute.
I think I would love to adopt an alcoholic.

I just love to love.
Just like my Jesus does.
He teaches me how.

Despite circumstance.
Despite pain, discomfort, fear.
In the midst of judgement.
In the midst of shame.
Love.

As He whispers in my ear… “And the greatest of these is love.”


I choose love.
Because He first loved me.


Tonight I went into this store called “earthtones.” A rasta who reminded me of my time that I spent in the caribbean made me a beautiful bracelet which is now one of my favorites. It’s very urban, hippy, bohemian (pick your choice of word)…it fits my style perfectly. It is a thin band of leather painted brown with black edges. Engraved in the center is the word LOVE. That’s what I asked for, but little did I know the implication it would have for the night. My sister surprised me with it later on that night. I didn’t realize that I was actually going to get one. Being the simplistic mind that I am, I wanted the word love on it & nothing else. My sister asked the man to do what ever he thought would look good. Thankfully, there were no sissy looking hearts next to it. Instead there were 3 beautiful sideways “s” looking symbols on each side of the word love. It turned out perfectly. When I wear it, hopefully it will always remind me of tonight. & the love that I feel in my heart for people. For the brokenhearted. The Lord clearly gave me the specific scripture in Isaiah. Chapter 61:1-4. He gave that to me many years ago as the calling that He has placed upon my life.

I know why.

:)


“if grace is an ocean we’re all sinking.” –john mark mcmillian