Month: October 2015

Spoken Word

Anxiety

Rebekah EckardLeave a comment

What if I wrote a poem about my anxiety attacks? I said to myself one day.

The funny thing is, I  actually thought it was a good idea until now.

But, it’s too late and I’ve spent too long pouring over each and every word to make sure it’s as close to perfect as I can manage, so here goes vulnerability. I’ve struggled off and on with Anxiety for about 2 1/2 years now. Change and I aren’t the best of friends (if she’s walking down one sidewalk, I will jaywalk across 6 lanes of traffic to get to the other side so that I don’t have to run into her). Roughly 3 weeks before I graduated colleges in 2013, things started to get messy. Things meaning me. I was a mess. I ate PB&Js for 2 weeks straight (all meals) because I couldn’t force myself to eat anything else. I had a full time job that I adored lined up for the summer, and Graduate School after that, but I just didn’t want to leave the city that became my first home and the friends that loved me like family. That’s when the anxiety attacks came. Over the years, I’ve gone to several counselors (and still am now) that have helped me learn to manage and even stave off the anxiety . It’s been a extremely difficult, but really amazing (just not at the same time). 

This poem obviously reflects the darker side of progress, but as my favorite author Andrew Peterson always says, “it’s always darkest before the dawn.”

Anxiety

I fill these hands to empty my mind.
Weave. Write. Work. Make. Do.
Make do.

But I can’t ignore that I’m waning with each new breath.
How long until I suffocate here on dry land?
How long until my lung refuse to fill?
No, don’t think about that.
Weave.Write. Work. Make. Do.
Make do.

Through the windows, the darkness enters
and I can’t find a match.
I tell myself to keep trying.
I will my hands to move,
to fumble through pattens weaved in this chaos.
trying to make these knots curve right.
My fists wrap tighter and tighter ’round these rods of iron
but I keep finding holes in my work.

War drums beat within my chest,
and I know the enemy is nearing.
It’s inside my own flesh.
I cover my eyes to shield the darkness,
but we all know that’s not how darkness works.
It follows you into your hiding,
so you must learn to fight your way into the light.

So, I uncurl myself from this cocoon
stepping out to take hold of the ancient book
And as my hands grasp hold of it’s pages,
my heart begins to cling to the Word I find within.
My eyes scanning black lines to search for you,
just trying to imagine you there in living color.
I am willing you to come out of these pages-
willing these words to form your very flesh

Like the match that I was missing
You strike yourself against my sole.
Light penetrates my darkness, illuminating your form
I see you.
And this ever growing flame is soaking up the oxygen
but somehow I’m finding it easier to breathe.

Ramblings

Why I Love Knitting

Rebekah EckardLeave a comment

So, I haven’t done a post yet about Knitting.
Probably because I get made of fun for it.
All. The. Time. (See if you get a scarf for Christmas, Philip)

But it’s what I’ve been spending a lot of time doing lately. School is crazy and when I’m not studying (or working), I just want my mind is numb. You know how TV is supposed to leave your mind in a vegetative state? Well, that sounds spiritual right now. The idea of turning off my mind a just relaxing… oh man… that’s better than chocolate cake without calories.

So, I’ve turned to knitting as my craft of choice right now. There is just something about picking up those needles and thread that usher in the literal calming presence of Jesus. It’s how I am able to get a way from the world for a while. As much as I like the idea of packing an extra pair of clothes and leaving the world behind for a few days, I’d be just as happy sitting on my couch watching Cinderella and knitting all weekend (which actually happened last weekend).

Yes, I know how lame that sounds.
No one ever called me adventurous.

Knitting is an escape for me. Picking up those needles forces me to drop everything else I’m carrying. And that’s the power of creating for me. It’s a place of peace and rest. Sometimes that means setting aside my thoughts to pick up yarn and needles. And other times that means bringing my thoughts to the table as a means to process them through word or song. Either way, it is a time of rest and relief for which I am grateful.

 And because this post wasn’t originally intended to be a rant, Here’s a little bit of what I’ve been working on. Alabama has finally started getting a little cool (between the hours of 7pm and 8am at least) and scarves and sweaters can finally removed from storage (even if we sweat a little while wearing them). And so I’ve already knit two scarves this season- one for me and one for a friend.

IMG_7830-0
When the scarf ends up being taller than you, you know it’s gonna get you all those warm and cozy feelings.
This scarf took me over 15 hours to make, but doesn’t my bestie looked amazing. Totally worth it.
And because I loved the scarf so much, I made a headband version of it for myself.

The headband is available in my etsy shop. 

And because you guys are my favorites, get 20% any item using the code #CreateInMe365

Spoken Word

Psalm of Lament

Rebekah EckardLeave a comment

Have you ever felt like the Lord gave you a dream, or a passion to do something, and you’re all in.

“Yes Father. Let’s do this. I’m ready. Pick me.”

You can see the finish line, “the promised land” if you will, and you know you can make it there. And then everything goes wrong, and you feel as if you’ve been teleported to a place 576 miles from where you were before, and it’s 576 miles in the wrong direction. When the Israelites sent spies into the Promised Land, it must have felt so close. They were finally ready to cash in on the Lord’s promise after all this time. But then the spies came back and they were afraid of the people groups already in the Land. And they feared these men more than they trusted the Lord who had brought them out of Egypt. Just like that, the Promise was taken from them, and they wandered in the wasteland for forty more year. That’s how I feel sometimes, you know? I begin to doubt what I know to be true about The Lord and who He is. And so I come before Him and boldly ask, “What are you doing here, Father?”

A Psalm of Lament 

You gave me visions of honey;
By your hand have I tasted the sweetness of freedom.
I danced for joy and sang your praises
sweet praises to Yahweh for his faithful love.

We walked across this empty space together
this place of eager expectation;
And you showed me all that you had promised.
Yes,on the other bank laid all that I had longed for.
Across the river you pointed out of the wealth
of this land flowing with milk and honey.
My hand grasped at all that I saw;
my mouth watered for what would soon be mine.

But then we turned to wander in the wasteland,
and You led me away from what my soul desired.
Why, oh Lord, do you torment me so?
Why, faithful Yahweh, do you taunt me?
Did you bring me out to the desert to die?
Will I wander here for the rest of my life?
Is 40 years my punishment?
Was this in your plan all along?
Was what I saw only a mirage?
Or will I ever taste of what I have seen?

{pause and remember}

Still, I have followed you across this desert,
and I will follow you through it once again.
You, oh Lord, are my guiding light;
Without you I know not which foot to step with next.
And should I wander in this waiting land with you forever,
It will be enough.
You, oh Lord, are far more glorious;
You are worth more to me than all riches and pleasures.
This waste land has become an oasis in your presence;
And out of rocks, you have brought fresh water.
You have provided the manna.
You have provided with your presence.
And You are enough.