Hello Fear

This weekend I got to spend a precious amount of time with an old college friend. He invited me to his church's youth camp and asked me to share my testimony, in light of my biggest fear. 

I have never given my fears much thought, and given that I have shared my story on numerous occasions, in front of numerous people, I didn't prepare as I would do a sermon.

We certainly live in a culture where fears are watered down to spiders, the dark, ghosts and all sorts of superficial things. But we rarely talk about what really scares the hell out of us (I hope hell don't scare you). We rarely talk about the things in our hearts that give us a fright, or the the amount of headspace we give to certain things keeping us up at night.

I had a speaking slot the Saturday evening, but as I sat in the sessions the Friday and Saturday morning, I began to realize that I have no idea of what scares me, and that's a big problem. We have to identify the things we fear most so that we can deliberately push ourselves into situations where we can face those fears. I doubt that there's another way around it.

Fear numbs. I know. It has numbed me more than once. The moment i look at a situation and the outcome is not as I expected, fear seeps in with its deadly poison. It numbs all of me, sometimes even my physical body. But because I didn't know WHAT scares me, i couldn't grab the thing by the throat and flush it down the drain.

I fear rejection. I fear dying without accomplishing anything. I fear 'man'. i often fear myself. I used to fear love and being loved, now I fear losing that.

I read Donald Miller over the weekend, saying, "Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just show up, don't run, stand there with your hands in your pockets and live IN the fear".

I want to live in the fear. But to resist fear, I HAVE to embrace honesty, at all levels, even if it hurts. I have to be honest with myself; the people in my life, and the stranger on the road. I often sound so in control of my life when people ask me what am I doing and where am I going, but truth be told I have NO idea where my life is going. Often times our fears are masked with confidence, and sometimes the lack thereof. I can sound so confident about my life, that no one will smell the fear its driven by.

Kirk Franklin sings this beautiful song called "Hello fear" in which he says, "Never again will I love you; My heart refuses to be your home; No longer your prisoner, Today I remember; Apart from you is where I belong".

As from today, I resolve to live in the fear. I choose to get hurt, fail, or be rejected, but I shall not fear again.

You are not alone in this?

"You are not alone in this"

I have this battle in my head. I have this battle to convince myself that I don't have to know I'm not alone in whatever crap I'm in. i want to feel like I don't need support, sympathy, help, whatever.

To say I'm between a rock and a hard place is like saying "I know I'm gonna make it; I just don't know how and when". I'm beyond that. I'm beyond believing, hoping that things might, with a crap load of luck, change for the better.

There used to be a time that i trusted the whole "you are not alone in this" phrases. It brought a comfort of sort. I used to dig my heart deep into it and for brief moments I felt at peace with who I was, no matter what. The only thing with these phrases is that it never actually resolve to anything tangible. It never becomes real. Maybe its the thought that counts but I have constantly found myself deserted and alone. In those moments I want those phrases to come alive and give meaning. i want it to take on flesh. I want it to become a phone call or a visit, or a hug.

I have people around me, I really do. I have wonderful, loyal friends, but what I did discover was that sometimes, and sadly for me, many times you are left with only yourself. Naked and alone you entered this world; naked and alone you often stand in your deepest moments of need.

I wish this wasn't as depressing as it is, God forbid, If I'm not here tomorrow, this is as it is.

Silence Within-guest post by Paula Bredenkamp @paulieepooh

It's so easy to be silent in front of other people, but to keep the silence to yourself is a challenge in itself.

Most of the time, in order for us to be silent on the inside, is to speak up.

Think about it, when we are silent towards the people who loves us, it builds up inside. But, in choosing to share how we think and feel we can quiet ourselves down on the inside. This seems a lot like extreme reverse psychology. Like everything in life, there are a few things we need to remember when it comes to this.

I spoke to a friend earlier this week, where I just completely let go of myself. It was a relieving, yet fearful moment, because I'm always afraid of bringing down the people I share with. He reminded me that it's necessary, because if we don't, who will ever. For me, it was always an issue of giving people hope when I share parts of myself with them. I never used to share the parts of me that really aches, and his words made me realize that my brokenness, in many ways can serve as a channel of hope to people. People often tell stories of how they WERE in a bad place; how they WERE struggling, but you hardly hear people telling stories of how they ARE in bad places, and how they ARE struggling to get through it.

I wrote this poem the other night, and I hope it make sense:

This is what I feel now

You keep on asking me how

How can you share this feeling

I thought you were done dealing

I choose to reply

With something as simple as a bye

Cause something like a "fuck you"

In times like this would'n do

What I do validates how I feel

Even to you it might seem unreal

I have to choose to be strong

Even though I want to do wrong

I need to stop this pain

from driving me totally insane

I really just want this to end

This broken heart can no longer mend

So don't ask me how I am

I'll just answer with a "fine, thank you ma'am"

I will keep on fighting till the day I die

But for now just allow me to feel like a fly

Useless, small, broken, alone

Thinking I'm doing this on my own

But no matter how bad this might seem

This is just the in between

So, in order for me to be silent within, I need to speak up and in order to speak up I need to learn that it's okay not to be okay, and that there's a reason that I am where I am right now. Me speaking up right no, just might be the story someone else needs to hear.

Many times we are hurt just so the person next to us can grow. So speak up; don't be ashamed of who you are and allow yourself to become silent.

This Year

Most of my past was covered with dark years. I had years where I lived in poverty as a child; in prison as a teenager; and a confused young adult trying to fit in thereafter. But there were better years, like my years as a student at Pneumatix. People often refer to years as ‘seasons of life’.

Somehow out of it all though, this year has been in particular the toughest year I’ve had to face, and the year still got 140 days and some couple hours left. I wish I could say it was a year or season of growth, and maybe it was, or is. Maybe I’m not aware of the growth, or maybe the growth will only show in due time. All I know that it was and is still painful.

I’ve spent this year mostly soul-searching, discovering who I want to be at age 28 and what I want in life, even though, for a long time I was pretty sure of what I wanted. Somehow this year has pulled a mat from beneath my feet, my head hitting the floor, causing some destiny memory loss.

I’ve fought with the voice that keeps on shouting I’m not good enough; I’ve fought with people I care about; I have lost friends and I have lost a part of myself. This year made me stagnant, fearful and passive in all the areas where I used to drink from life as much as I could. My passion and care for social justice has shifted to hollow facebook statuses, tweets, and quotes of what other people said and did. I have never loved and hated loneliness as much as I did this year. Whenever I was with groups of people, I felt extremely inferior, forcing me to rather be by myself, and when I’m alone I felt worthless.

I have never considered suicide as an option until this year. This year has been tough.

Don’t get me wrong though. I had wonderful times, with wonderful people that I will cherish forever. This year had its good parts for me as well. I had people who showed me in genuine ways they cared for me. I have a girlfriend who stood by each ache, every weight, and every depression. I had days, sometimes weeks where I woke up every morning with new courage and hope for what’s to come. During those days, the possibility of this year becoming better almost always felt possible, but then it would disappear.

Today is one of those days where I’m ready to pick myself up again and move forward. And I know if I don’t get this out; if I don’t write about this; if I keep it in, it will disappear sooner than I can think. My heart is heavy as I’m writing this but my heart is hopeful, that redemption is on its way. My heart is in the waiting of something new and fresh. By no means am I saying I’ve conquered my demons but I want to start living again for the things that made me feel alive a while ago. I wanna thrive on the things I’ve been given; I wanna be thankful for family, awesome friends, and a loving girlfriend.

I want you to pray for me. I NEED you to pray for me. Pray that these beautiful things would continue to give me reason to fight, again, and again. I want to grow and change, and be a better me this time next year. I don’t want you to pray for me for an easier life, I gave up on that long time ago. I know a lot of tough years might still lie ahead. But I also know we are more than the struggles that holds us.

We are more than the lies we tell ourselves.

We are more than the years.

I am more than the years.

Stories behind stories- Paula

Many of us go through struggles in life; Things that tears our whole world apart, even if it’s just for a mere moment. We connect and reconnect with friends over the years and we take some of their pain upon ourselves, as if we could’ve made their lives any different than what it is. Yet when it comes to helping ourselves and our stories we are incapable of realizing the worth we have.

So StayAliveFriend was created to help people not go through whatever they are going through alone.

I spoke to a friend the other day and she explained to me she doesn’t want to read other people’s stories. She thinks it would just make her more depressed. So I started thinking about it. I definitely saw what she was talking about yet I just couldn’t comprehend the idea of not reaching out to people; not at least attempting to help them in some sort of way.

So I was watching Private practice this week where a young boy lost his mom to cancer and how everyone was telling his father how to handle him and force him in to certain things so he could start dealing with his mom’s death. The only thing the father saw was that he just wasn’t there yet. His son just wasn’t ready to deal with the loss of his mother. There’s no formula in dealing with pain and loss, nor are there any quick fixes to it. Each person we meet in our life is “composed” differently so we need to treat people differently in the various aspects of their lives. We need to be able to put aside our passion to help first understand the person we are dealing with and only then can we actually help them in a way that is helpful to them.

When I wasn’t there yet I needed to hear people’s stories. I needed to hear that everyone has a past. I needed to see that the people whom I thought had it all together; the people I placed WAY up THERE had crappy days just like me so that I could find the hope that would get me there someday.

So if you’re not there yet find people that would be willing to find you so that you can reach the top the way that YOU need to.

We are put in this world with people but not so that they can form you to their liking. You can only be formed by what you believe in. So keep strong and keep holding on and you’re “not there yet” will soon enough change into “I have arrived”.

Paula

Be the rescue.

I'm not broken for myself. I'm broken to be poured out. I'm broken so that other people can embrace their brokenness; so that they can see that the end of life is NOT where the pieces lay scattered. We are called to be the rescue, but to rescue you have to understand what it means to have been on the receiving end of the rope.

I had a moment last week where the the questions I'm facing didn't collide with the answers i've been offered out there. I'm asking questions to better understand the chaos inside my head; chaos mostly influenced by emotions; emotions mostly stemming from rejection; rejection mostly deriving from not fully accepting myself.  And when this chaos gets to heavy to bear, I'm looking for an escape, everyone does because its the only thing that would make sense; to get rid of it as soon as possible. i took comfort in friends; people that understands me, and accepts me, and know that when my demons creep up on me, I can reach out to them and they'll respond with an "AHOO" battle cry, like the Spartans from 300. That is comforting to know.

There's others who's not so fortunate to have an army of friends to stand shoulder to shoulder with them. There's some of us who HAVE to fight it out all by themselves, and that's sad, and my heart goes out to you. Although I know what it feels like to be lonely, I don't know what it feels like to be lonely AND alone, cos that's two different things.

Early this week I had a friend reaching out to me because the pressure of the chaos is eating her, and she can feel it slowly getting the upper hand. She needed someone to talk to; to pray with, and for her. What a feeling it is to know you can pour yourself out for a friend because just a week earlier others have emptied themselves for you, in prayer, phone calls, messages, words of encouragement.

This morning I heard about a friend of Meegan who just couldn't keep up with his chaos. i didn't know the guy but it shatters my heart to know someone has been left by himself; someone were carrying a burden and no one was there. Or maybe people were there, who knows. it just saddens my heart. I always feel like a piece of myself gets taken away when I hear of young South Africans committing suicide.

That is the reason I started StayAlivefriend. For the ones who are forgotten. The ones who cannot control the chaos. the ones who struggle to accept themselves. It is for them, but in so many ways, it has been for myself as well. We all need rescue.

StayAlivefriend need more voices out there. We need rescuers to point their friends towards our Facebook page and our blog. The rescue always starts small.

Peace to you.

https://www.facebook.com/StayAliveFriend

My Suitcase: a guest post

Sometimes the only we we can make sense out of the madness is by diving head on first into it; standing up against it and convince yourself there's more to it than what there seem to be.

A really heartfelt guest post from a dear friend:

Stuck between these walls that once seemed so familiar. This was supposed to be my safe place and all of a sudden it just reeks of pain and disappointment.  I wake up every morning trying to find reason in this ridiculous thing we call life.

People keep on telling me, don't lose hope things will get better. But just as the one thing gets better the next bad thing happens and it starts all over again.  How much longer do I have to keep on hoping for a better future? 

Everything that happens to me, good or bad, gets tucked away is this suitcase that just travels with me as I think I'm running away from it.  Then I stop and think what will happen if I turn back for just a second and visit my past?

No one is asking me to unpack my bag and move in. So then I open my suitcase and being human I get caught up in all my stories and think but what if... Not being able to just take a glimpse and seeing how far I've come and move forward... I've been struggling with depression for a while now, resisting the urge to cut; to try and just end it all EVERYDAY. People keep on telling me do this; do that but in the end I have to make the choice for me. Regardless of all the people that supposedly loves me. I'm the one that has to get on with my life and I won't always have the same people around me that will understand my stories the way I need them to.

Maybe being stuck in a empty space isn't all that bad. I'm not getting pushed into something I don't want. I can be in the emptiness and just wonder about me, and what I should do to get through this.

Still loving the people around me just learning to love me in the process. One day I will be able to close my suitcase again. Until then I will keep hope despite everything I believe about it because it's hope that get's me out of bed every morning just begging me to try one more time. Maybe this time it would be OK and my house filled with pain and disappointed will turn into my home again. 

Paula

I don't know if this makes sense but ya...

"Although the scars remain, we remember the good times".

Who we are.

The past weekend presented the opportunity for us to be on stage during a dear friend's Benefit Show. Every second of it felt like this is what we're called to do as a movement. We are called to share, in unexpected moments about things unspoken of in our society.

It is true: our stories are important and it needs to be lived, but not a lot of us believe those words, like we don't believe in the government. We end up moving away from our true stories because the pain is too much; our stories don't make sense, or things simply didn't turn out the way we hoped it would. Life is full of surprises. It can sometimes force you to be someone else. many friends, live lives not cut out for them; living to which they're not called to, including myself.

the urge to be someone other than yourself can be pretty overwhelming at times. You know who you are, and yet you can feel yourself slipping away slowly. "This is NOT what it's supposed to be like", you'd say, and yet there's not much you can do to avoid it.

Merique got an opportunity to represent South Africa in Los Angeles at the World Championships for Performing Arts. What an honor that would be for her. But I remember her singing one of her songs that says "this is the moment that I've been given to show the world who I really am". Aren't we all hiding away at times the very person we truly are? the financial challenges for Merique is quite heavy but she stepped out of who the world wants her to be so that she can show the world who she really is. That is exactly the turning point in all of our lives. We HAVE to step out. it's the only way the REAL ME can come forth.....

#stayalivefriends

Fixed

My song for the week is Coldplay’s “Fix you”, and I think many have find some sort of comfort, story, or have lived themselves vicariously through every letter of this song. Mostly because, we all have to agree, we know what it means to be fixed by someone, whether it is a person, a being, or yourself. We were all in need of a fix, good or bad.

I was fortunate enough to have seen Coldplay perform this piece of art live at their Cape Town show, and I remember screaming every word along with the thousands present. I remember how connected I felt. I hugged strangers around me. We looked like loyal rugby fans, singing shosholoza. It was just spectacular. There were fireworks, everywhere. It was better than any revival show. It felt like God was in the mix.

Apart from us all having been fixed once, this song just echoes humanity. It shouts our raw nature to love and be loved. I once loved a girl, but I wasn’t completely myself around her because I wanted her to love me also, and she did. We both were broken and wasn’t exactly sure it was what we wanted. She was and is truly beautiful, but for years she had built these walls around her heart. We tried to fix each other but it wasn’t long before we decide it best to go our separate ways.

Sometimes we think our fixes come in neatly sealed packages, but most of the times our fixes come from our brokenness; from our deepest aching. I was crushed after I parted ways with her, and I lived a total reckless life for a while afterwards, but I’m fixed now. I’m fixed because I was broken. I’m fixed because I risked my heart for something, and even though that something wasn’t for me, it was worth it. I loved again, and this time it’s more beautiful.

Never give up on love; it’s too beautiful a thing to let it go to waste. You might not want to love now, or maybe you’re not ready for it. Or maybe you are ready but nothing is happening.

“Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones”.

Something somewhere will spark inside you, and you’ll be fixed from whatever distorted your picture of what love is supposed to look like.

“But if you never try you’ll never know, just what you’re worth”.

You have to put yourself out there and risk it for love. Love is taking a chance on someone with your heart. Letting them into who you are, without assurance of getting anything. I have a friend who is so, so beautiful, I’m sure she’s a goddess, but she hasn’t been on a date in months. Many times she would question her beauty and I have to reassure her over and over that love will find her at the right time. As much as I want her to find love, I want her to find her worth from within, with or without someone to love. The person that will love you will just add to the worth you already possess, but don’t find worth only after you have found someone.

Lights will guide you home. 

"Shadow Days"

One have to admit, even after being tortured at Pneumatix by all the John Mayer lovers and their commitment to trying master the art of John Mayerness (if there was something like it) , the guy is magic to the ears and especially to the soul. I don't know what makes him such a good musician but i know that when he writes, it must come from somewhere deep within. i doubt that anyone writing for the fun, and the money of it, would be able to put words so lyrically beautiful together, and still be able to make good, quality, appreciative music.


i had my ears on on his latest single, "Shadow Days", which is also the title for this post. Not all our days are brightly shining with moments unforgettable. How we wish that could be the case, or not. Mayer suggests that it was hard times that have helped him see. how true is that? i remember the times I was caught up in the lies i believed about myself, and how hard it was for me to get to the truth. But those hard times, just like shadow days, eventually blew over and i was able to see. i was able to appreciate the "me' now.

"Some people been known to do it
All their lives
But you find yourself alone
Just like you found yourself before".

Some people choose to believe in live lies all their lives. Lies can become comfortable. Lies can assure us that it's not as bad as it looks. Like, you don't have to reach out and make friends; be honest; reconcile; forgive. Lies can leave us in pieces, and only truth, authenticity, can mend those moments we want to forget.

We have to learn to let go of the lies we believe about ourselves. Our lives are flooded with beauty, but our lies entangle us and we get distracted by the things we're not, instead of seeing the thing we are. Human. Loved. Graced. Beauty. Living Stories.

"Well it sucks to be honest
And it hurts to be real
But it's nice to make some love
That I can finally feel
Hard times let me be"

Honesty, most of the times is hard to live with. it hurts to live with it. but its the only way for us to be free. When we look at our scars; when we look at our flaws, the only way for us to deal with it is staring it in the face and be honest to ourselves about it. We are in need of help. We are in need of redemption. We are in need of other people.

Our shadow days never lasts forever. Our truth does.

Our Heads

"Our heads are horrible places to live in", a friend used to say. I would always know exactly what she meant, because for some reasons, unwanted truths or accepted lies, she struggles to feel loved. She would accept compliments in shy, unbelievable ways, smiling at least. No matter how many times I try to show her how loved she actually is, and she get show a lot, her head refuses to accept it. She said sometimes she would long to hear she's loved but when her longing are met, she shy away from it.

Last night I had a conversation with a friend whose brother died in an accident couple weeks ago. Her world completely collapsed because he pretty much was her world. People often say we shouldn't make someone our world. Parts of me wants to agree with that but there's also a part of me that want to know what it feels like to pour your everything into a person, opening yourself up completely, and in return, being drawn into their world and explore what adventure, love, joy, hopes, dreams there might be.

My friend battled depression for a long time, even before her brother's accident now, and she'd been playing hide and seek with cutting also; hiding from it more than seeking it. But our addictions have funny ways of sneaking up on us when we expect it the least. truth can be hard to find when all we've known are lies, and when that darkness come it overshadows whatever little we knew to be true about ourselves.

I want to fight for my friend. We have to fight for them when they cant fight for themselves, because most of the time when they're pushing you away its when they need you the most. depression and his friends, they don't get tired. they're constantly battling to see you find comfort in the homes. Sad thing is, as inviting as their homes may be, they always finds a way to kick you out and make you feel like you feel like you need them.

Truth is, you don't need them.You don't have to live in your head. You can throw the blanket off. Accept your value like soft silk.

Stop living in your head.

Death and his friends.

In less than a month I had to hear from three of my close friends that someone close to them had passed away. Three times in less than a month I had to come up with words that could offer hope and understanding in situations that will never be clear to anyone, but would still be painful to everyone. Both life and death is ironic.

Death has no respect for the living. The fucker shows up without an invitation; barging though our backdoors while we try to enjoy every slice of toasted brown bread to stay healthy. I guess sometimes his presence serves as reminders that we have only so much time to do the things we love and take enough photos with the ones we love but I still hate the cowardice son of a bitch. No one gave him any right to step into my friends’ lives; mess up their rooms and leave their floors scattered with wet tissues- confetti of his after party.

I have lost my parents at an early age. I was three when my father passed away; 21 and in prison when my mother died. I have no recollections of my dad and my mother left two brothers and two sisters with a house and no will. I can’t remember crying when my dad passed away and I remember I didn’t shed a single tear for my mother. I wasn’t even allowed to attend her funeral. I have lost all respect for death and every friend he brings along: chaos, fear, pain, confusion, remorse. I don’t shake hands with them and I certainly don’t eat with them after the funeral.

What makes it okay for people to say that no parent should outlive their children? Where does this come from; as if it is supposed to be okay for parents to die before their children? I don’t get it. The Bible says a wise person think about death a lot while the fool thinks about only having a good time now. Isn’t that called living? To laugh, have fun, and seek eternity in each moment?

I find myself to be awkwardly, and extremely superficial at funerals. I feel like Hitler who would, by some miracle chance, stand in front of the Jewish community and show true remorse for the evil he had done to them. Truth is, at all the funerals I’ve been to, whenever I find myself circling through the perfect clichés, hoping this time I would mean it, I walk away hating myself for it a little bit more than the previous time. Every time I’m at a funeral the barbarian in me wants to scream, “Death is assured but it’s not ultimate”. We’re all going to die. In the flesh, no one makes it out alive.  Not that anyone would care because no one prepares for it, except with funeral plans and Sanlam policies.

Our stories are precious and sacred. It doesn’t matter how bad a person has lived their story, the value of it can never be decreased. Also, to have lived a long life doesn’t mean necessarily you have lived a full life.

Last night a young 16-year old boy’s story was cut short. The last words he spoke to his mother was, “I’ll be back”...so painful yet so profound. Pain always has beauty locked up somewhere inside of it every time, if we choose to search for it.

 We shall return, all of us. In the new, in Christ we shall be back. In Christ we shall be renewed and return without the hatred towards death because only through death will we appreciate the resurrection.

And the resurrection is always a beautiful thing.