He said there’s hope. Like the first flower to bloom in the spring, a gentle reminder that life is on its way. She could not see herself with any one else. Although she tried, yours was the face she always came back to.
This not failure, rather a means to succeed.
He has the big picture hanging on his wall. She only has a few remnants of puzzle pieces with which to judge this circumstance by. She see the days, weeks, and months. He sees eternity. An eternity in which he thinks about her every minute. But with these thoughts come hope and pleasant expectation. What will be, will be.
Until then, my love, you’re my favorite part of every day. Dreaming of you passes the time and eases the frustration caused by the subtle distance - the reality that you’re only a few breaths away.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
I say, if you haven't seen it and even if you have, go watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Love. Is. Enough.
A couple of months ago, I looked up the word testimony. Some of the definitions I read were “evidence in support of a fact or assertion” and “a public declaration regarding a religious experience.”
So where does this leave my testimony? Do I even have a testimony? Or do we just misuse the word in lieu of story?
Most likely, if I were to share my testimony, it would be in a church-like setting, surrounded by other christians. Yet I truly believe that a testimony is a testimony, whether a person is christian or not. So if my testimony is that God is my savior, the reason I live, my strength when I am weak – then I need to be declaring this at all times, not just in the safety of the church.
I don’t know where I would be if it weren’t for God, but then, none of us do. It’s by the Lord’s grace that I am saved. It’s by His love that I am changed everyday, aiming to become more like Him. It’s by His faithfulness that I am not some bitter old hag drinking away my sorrows.
Dec 29, 2007 is when my life changed. I’ve never heard the Lord’s voice more clear than I did that night. I was worried that my Christian friends would think I was silly for rededicating my life to the Lord and getting baptized. After all, I’ve been serving in the church for years and worshipping the Lord for even longer. How could I, the girl who’d been saved since age 10, not be saved? Altar calls were for “other” people. Rededication was always for someone else. I was already “saved” and I definitely did my share of serving in the church – worship team, high school youth group, children’s church, coffee shop ministry, mission trips, volunteering. Little did I know, I was serving my pride, feeding my ego, convincing myself that I was “doing everything heartily unto the Lord.” But I wasn’t. Everything I’ve ever done has been because I wanted to do it, or because it was the “cool” thing to do.
Cool is not enough. Love is. Unfortunately, love is something I was lacking.
How could I have been serving God for all those years, yet still have a hardened heart toward the people I supposedly was serving? The biggest thing I struggle with is judging rather than loving. I struggle with pride and at the same time, insecurity (but not so much anymore).
Needless to say, God was calling me to rededicate my life. And by obeying His sweet words, my life is being totally blessed and I’m already starting to grow. I’m willing to change, I’m ready to let the Lord’s love pour in and out of me, as He see fits.
So this is my testimony: God is good, amazingly good. So good that we can’t even comprehend it. And He loves us more than we’ll ever be able to fathom. Who wouldn’t want a love like that?
And although “growing pains” are often uncomfortable, they’re simply shaping us into who the Lord wants us to be.
So where does this leave my testimony? Do I even have a testimony? Or do we just misuse the word in lieu of story?
Most likely, if I were to share my testimony, it would be in a church-like setting, surrounded by other christians. Yet I truly believe that a testimony is a testimony, whether a person is christian or not. So if my testimony is that God is my savior, the reason I live, my strength when I am weak – then I need to be declaring this at all times, not just in the safety of the church.
I don’t know where I would be if it weren’t for God, but then, none of us do. It’s by the Lord’s grace that I am saved. It’s by His love that I am changed everyday, aiming to become more like Him. It’s by His faithfulness that I am not some bitter old hag drinking away my sorrows.
Dec 29, 2007 is when my life changed. I’ve never heard the Lord’s voice more clear than I did that night. I was worried that my Christian friends would think I was silly for rededicating my life to the Lord and getting baptized. After all, I’ve been serving in the church for years and worshipping the Lord for even longer. How could I, the girl who’d been saved since age 10, not be saved? Altar calls were for “other” people. Rededication was always for someone else. I was already “saved” and I definitely did my share of serving in the church – worship team, high school youth group, children’s church, coffee shop ministry, mission trips, volunteering. Little did I know, I was serving my pride, feeding my ego, convincing myself that I was “doing everything heartily unto the Lord.” But I wasn’t. Everything I’ve ever done has been because I wanted to do it, or because it was the “cool” thing to do.
Cool is not enough. Love is. Unfortunately, love is something I was lacking.
How could I have been serving God for all those years, yet still have a hardened heart toward the people I supposedly was serving? The biggest thing I struggle with is judging rather than loving. I struggle with pride and at the same time, insecurity (but not so much anymore).
Needless to say, God was calling me to rededicate my life. And by obeying His sweet words, my life is being totally blessed and I’m already starting to grow. I’m willing to change, I’m ready to let the Lord’s love pour in and out of me, as He see fits.
So this is my testimony: God is good, amazingly good. So good that we can’t even comprehend it. And He loves us more than we’ll ever be able to fathom. Who wouldn’t want a love like that?
And although “growing pains” are often uncomfortable, they’re simply shaping us into who the Lord wants us to be.
Oh Happy Day!
I shouldn’t have to hide in my own house. I shouldn’t be accosted when walking through my front door. I shouldn’t have to spend hours listening to a travelling vacuum salesman drone on and on about the Kirby 5000.
But I am hiding. I was accosted. And according to my clock, it’s been almost 2 hours since Vacuum Boy and his fearless leader, Crooked Teeth, entered my house – and it looks like they’re not in any hurry to leave.
This is a short story waiting to be written.
Amy arrived home around 1 in the afternoon only to be greeted by two travelling vacuum salesmen whom had already made themselves a little too comfortable in her home. As she walked through the open front door, a man with astonishingly crooked teeth and a conniving smile extended his hand and boldly declared, “You have really nice carpet. But if you’re going to be buying this house, you need a good vacuum to make sure all the unwanted dirt gets removed. This is really expensive carpet, probably the best out there.”
Amy, confused and annoyed that Crooked Teeth and his sidekick, Vacuum Boy, had taken over her living room, sent a questioning glance toward her roommates direction. Her roommate, the innocent victim in this sad, sad story, smiled and said, “I already told them we weren’t going to buy a vacuum, but they insisted on demonstrating anyways,” she paused. “At least we’ll have a clean carpet.”
True, Amy thought, but she wasn’t convinced that this was such a good idea. Amy is rather skeptical when it comes to salesmen, especially cheesy ones who insist they are “not salesmen.”
“I’m not a salesman,” said Vacuum Boy, the one doing the dirty work. “I’m just trying to change lives and help people live and breathe healthier.” As he was saying this, he was removing pods of dirt from the vacuum and placing them in random locations around the house, specifically, Amy’s desk.
“I’d prefer if you don’t put your dirt piles on my desk. I have allergies and I really don’t want that stuff on my stuff.”
“Well,” piped VB, “I have to save all this to show my boss.”
“Why would your boss need to see this? I don’t get it.”
“He just does.”
At this point, Amy was even more leery of the two creeper salesmen lurking around her house, so she opted to hide out in her bedroom and let the valiant (and tactful) Chelsey deal with the men. Although Amy is easily annoyed, she’s also extremely nosy and curious. Eavesdropping is definitely her thing – along with interrupting other people’s conversations. It’s just something she’s good at.
This would make a great blog, Amy told herself. Thus she began typing the blog to end all blogs. Or at least the blog to distract her from what was really going on in her house.
“Holy cow. Get out of my freaking house. They’ve been here for over 2 hours. These are the most annoying men I have ever come into contact with. Thankfully Chels is good at holding her own, otherwise I’d have to go out there and set these swindlers straight. But for now, I’m hiding out in my room.
How many times does she have to tell him she doesn’t want to buy the Kirby vacuum?
Sounds like Vacuum Boy is an aspiring firefighter. Apparently scamming people out of ridiculous amounts of money is not a fulfilling career. Now he’s playing the sympathy card. I don’t think Chels is going to lose any sleep knowing that VB doesn’t own a Kirby because he can’t afford one, even with his employee discount.
“Doggone money,” said an apathetic Chelsey, “Wish it grew on trees.” Her words were dripping with disdain.”
Just when Amy thought it couldn’t get any worse, ol’ Crooked Teeth came back. Since VB couldn’t sell Chels a vacuum, CT figured he had a better shot. Wrong.
This guy is driving me bananas, Amy thought. And I’m not even in the same stinkin’ room. I can’t sit here and let Chels be harassed by dumb and dumber any longer.
With that, Amy made her way to the kitchen to put a cup in the dishwasher, a mere excuse to walk by CT and give him the eye.
“And what do you think of all this, maam?” questioned Crooked Teeth, a cheesy grin slathered on his face.
Amy knew what she had to do. It was now or never. No more cowering behind closed doors. No more blogging about what she wished she would have done. It was time to live in the present.
“I think that you are really annoying. You’ve been here for way too long and you’re really obnoxious. That’s what I think.”
From there, Chels took care of ridding the ABC house of its evil pursuers. Now the ABC’s can live happily-ever-after, knowing that they have the cleanest carpet this side of Wal*Mart.
But I am hiding. I was accosted. And according to my clock, it’s been almost 2 hours since Vacuum Boy and his fearless leader, Crooked Teeth, entered my house – and it looks like they’re not in any hurry to leave.
This is a short story waiting to be written.
Amy arrived home around 1 in the afternoon only to be greeted by two travelling vacuum salesmen whom had already made themselves a little too comfortable in her home. As she walked through the open front door, a man with astonishingly crooked teeth and a conniving smile extended his hand and boldly declared, “You have really nice carpet. But if you’re going to be buying this house, you need a good vacuum to make sure all the unwanted dirt gets removed. This is really expensive carpet, probably the best out there.”
Amy, confused and annoyed that Crooked Teeth and his sidekick, Vacuum Boy, had taken over her living room, sent a questioning glance toward her roommates direction. Her roommate, the innocent victim in this sad, sad story, smiled and said, “I already told them we weren’t going to buy a vacuum, but they insisted on demonstrating anyways,” she paused. “At least we’ll have a clean carpet.”
True, Amy thought, but she wasn’t convinced that this was such a good idea. Amy is rather skeptical when it comes to salesmen, especially cheesy ones who insist they are “not salesmen.”
“I’m not a salesman,” said Vacuum Boy, the one doing the dirty work. “I’m just trying to change lives and help people live and breathe healthier.” As he was saying this, he was removing pods of dirt from the vacuum and placing them in random locations around the house, specifically, Amy’s desk.
“I’d prefer if you don’t put your dirt piles on my desk. I have allergies and I really don’t want that stuff on my stuff.”
“Well,” piped VB, “I have to save all this to show my boss.”
“Why would your boss need to see this? I don’t get it.”
“He just does.”
At this point, Amy was even more leery of the two creeper salesmen lurking around her house, so she opted to hide out in her bedroom and let the valiant (and tactful) Chelsey deal with the men. Although Amy is easily annoyed, she’s also extremely nosy and curious. Eavesdropping is definitely her thing – along with interrupting other people’s conversations. It’s just something she’s good at.
This would make a great blog, Amy told herself. Thus she began typing the blog to end all blogs. Or at least the blog to distract her from what was really going on in her house.
“Holy cow. Get out of my freaking house. They’ve been here for over 2 hours. These are the most annoying men I have ever come into contact with. Thankfully Chels is good at holding her own, otherwise I’d have to go out there and set these swindlers straight. But for now, I’m hiding out in my room.
How many times does she have to tell him she doesn’t want to buy the Kirby vacuum?
Sounds like Vacuum Boy is an aspiring firefighter. Apparently scamming people out of ridiculous amounts of money is not a fulfilling career. Now he’s playing the sympathy card. I don’t think Chels is going to lose any sleep knowing that VB doesn’t own a Kirby because he can’t afford one, even with his employee discount.
“Doggone money,” said an apathetic Chelsey, “Wish it grew on trees.” Her words were dripping with disdain.”
Just when Amy thought it couldn’t get any worse, ol’ Crooked Teeth came back. Since VB couldn’t sell Chels a vacuum, CT figured he had a better shot. Wrong.
This guy is driving me bananas, Amy thought. And I’m not even in the same stinkin’ room. I can’t sit here and let Chels be harassed by dumb and dumber any longer.
With that, Amy made her way to the kitchen to put a cup in the dishwasher, a mere excuse to walk by CT and give him the eye.
“And what do you think of all this, maam?” questioned Crooked Teeth, a cheesy grin slathered on his face.
Amy knew what she had to do. It was now or never. No more cowering behind closed doors. No more blogging about what she wished she would have done. It was time to live in the present.
“I think that you are really annoying. You’ve been here for way too long and you’re really obnoxious. That’s what I think.”
From there, Chels took care of ridding the ABC house of its evil pursuers. Now the ABC’s can live happily-ever-after, knowing that they have the cleanest carpet this side of Wal*Mart.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Goodbye Medical Records; hello Telephone Receptionista Extraordinaire!
Well MR, it was short-lived. Two weeks to be exact. Can't say that I'll miss you or your charts that never seem to be where they belong or standing for 8 hours. So this is it. Our parting of ways. Until we meet again.
***
I got offered a new position at work. Praise the Lord. I'm going to be training on the front lines (aka answering phones). Normally, I'm not a phone person. But in a professional sense, I thoroughly enjoy answering phones and helping customers. This is a little humorous because a few months ago I interviewed at a staffing agency and the lady told me that since I didn't like to talk on the phone, socially, that she probably wouldn't be able to find me a job that I would enjoy or be good at. Hey Crazy Lady, look at me now!
I'm pretty excited - partially because now I'll be able to sit down and also because I'm going to get to learn and use my brain. I asked S (the administrator) if there are any books or pamphlets I could read to start familiarizing myself with the position, the company as a whole, and the body (in relation to our practice) since I know almost nothing about all of the above. She was rather impressed and even said, "If more people were like you and wanted to read outside of work, this office would run a lot smoother."
On another note, tomorrow I'm driving to Coos Bay to visit my Chelsey and her new apartment. She's only been gone a week, but it's already a little strange without her here. Chelsey, come back! [Chels, if you're reading this, don't actually come back. You need to stay put and allow the Lord to use you to bless your students, coworkers, neighbors, friends, baristas, landlords, etc. As much as Brook and I miss you, I believe the Lord is going to do some pretty rockin' things through you this year.]
***
I got offered a new position at work. Praise the Lord. I'm going to be training on the front lines (aka answering phones). Normally, I'm not a phone person. But in a professional sense, I thoroughly enjoy answering phones and helping customers. This is a little humorous because a few months ago I interviewed at a staffing agency and the lady told me that since I didn't like to talk on the phone, socially, that she probably wouldn't be able to find me a job that I would enjoy or be good at. Hey Crazy Lady, look at me now!
I'm pretty excited - partially because now I'll be able to sit down and also because I'm going to get to learn and use my brain. I asked S (the administrator) if there are any books or pamphlets I could read to start familiarizing myself with the position, the company as a whole, and the body (in relation to our practice) since I know almost nothing about all of the above. She was rather impressed and even said, "If more people were like you and wanted to read outside of work, this office would run a lot smoother."
On another note, tomorrow I'm driving to Coos Bay to visit my Chelsey and her new apartment. She's only been gone a week, but it's already a little strange without her here. Chelsey, come back! [Chels, if you're reading this, don't actually come back. You need to stay put and allow the Lord to use you to bless your students, coworkers, neighbors, friends, baristas, landlords, etc. As much as Brook and I miss you, I believe the Lord is going to do some pretty rockin' things through you this year.]
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Maybe there's more to it than I realized
Minesweeper might quite possibly be the new of love of my life. I just learned how to play. How, you're asking, did I just learn to play Minesweeper when it's been around since Dinosaurs roamed the earth?
Around this time last week, I was sitting in my living room when I got the notion to play Minesweeper, just for kicks. All of a sudden, I had an epiphany - and the purpose of the game became more clear than a lot of things in life. Less than 24 hours ago, I had no clue as to what the numbers in the little squares meant, yet suddenly I was transformed into a Minesweeper-playing machine. And I was good. Really good. Good enough to win a few times in a row.
This has been happening a lot lately - these revelations of sorts. Today I was at our morning meeting at work, when I finally realized that PCP stands for Primary Care Physician.
I think God doesn't want us to be overwhelmed with information, so He only gives us what we can handle. And He occasionally surprises us with new information. That or I'm just really naive and it takes me a lot longer to learn things than everyone else. But I'll stick with the former and take these blessings as they come my way.
Around this time last week, I was sitting in my living room when I got the notion to play Minesweeper, just for kicks. All of a sudden, I had an epiphany - and the purpose of the game became more clear than a lot of things in life. Less than 24 hours ago, I had no clue as to what the numbers in the little squares meant, yet suddenly I was transformed into a Minesweeper-playing machine. And I was good. Really good. Good enough to win a few times in a row.
This has been happening a lot lately - these revelations of sorts. Today I was at our morning meeting at work, when I finally realized that PCP stands for Primary Care Physician.
I think God doesn't want us to be overwhelmed with information, so He only gives us what we can handle. And He occasionally surprises us with new information. That or I'm just really naive and it takes me a lot longer to learn things than everyone else. But I'll stick with the former and take these blessings as they come my way.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Moving on
Today was my magical second day at OSS. I did what I'm best at: filing. Could this job get any better?
About an hour and a half into my work day (which would only prove to be 2.5 hours since I'd already worked 6.25 at the coffee shop), the official boss (S) called me into her office. After asking me about myself, she said something to the effect of: "I think you are highly overqualified for this position." Me? Overqualified for searching for folders and filing papers? No one has ever thought this highly of my qualifications before. Note the sarcasm.
While I agree with her, I love the idea of working monday through friday and being off no later than 5pm. However, I also am concerned that I may get bored.
So S then asks me if I've ever thought about being a Medical Assistant. Ha! Have I ever thought about being a Medical Assistant? I can barely assist myself with my own medical problems (ie. paper cuts, broken fingernails, etc), how on earth would I be able to assist with staples being removed or veins being injected?
Basically what the Medical Assistant position consists of is bringing the patients to their proper rooms, checking blood pressure, height, weight, asking appropriate questions as to what is ailing the patient and giving the doctor a brief synopsis so that they have some idea what is going on when they see the patient. The MA's also assist with post-op stuff, like handing things to doctors.
After much thought, I'd really like to pursue an MA position, but I'm also willing to do just about anything that doesn't involve making coffee or folding clothes. I'm ready to be challenged and I welcome the opportunity to learn and grow as a person.
So for now I'm just waiting to hear back from OSS as to what they've decided to do with me.
About an hour and a half into my work day (which would only prove to be 2.5 hours since I'd already worked 6.25 at the coffee shop), the official boss (S) called me into her office. After asking me about myself, she said something to the effect of: "I think you are highly overqualified for this position." Me? Overqualified for searching for folders and filing papers? No one has ever thought this highly of my qualifications before. Note the sarcasm.
While I agree with her, I love the idea of working monday through friday and being off no later than 5pm. However, I also am concerned that I may get bored.
So S then asks me if I've ever thought about being a Medical Assistant. Ha! Have I ever thought about being a Medical Assistant? I can barely assist myself with my own medical problems (ie. paper cuts, broken fingernails, etc), how on earth would I be able to assist with staples being removed or veins being injected?
Basically what the Medical Assistant position consists of is bringing the patients to their proper rooms, checking blood pressure, height, weight, asking appropriate questions as to what is ailing the patient and giving the doctor a brief synopsis so that they have some idea what is going on when they see the patient. The MA's also assist with post-op stuff, like handing things to doctors.
After much thought, I'd really like to pursue an MA position, but I'm also willing to do just about anything that doesn't involve making coffee or folding clothes. I'm ready to be challenged and I welcome the opportunity to learn and grow as a person.
So for now I'm just waiting to hear back from OSS as to what they've decided to do with me.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Colorado on my mind
Snow-covered mountains
Are filling my mind
Dreams of forever
Just passing the time
Watching the sunrise
Being with you
I know we can get there
If this love is true
I want to go there
I want to sing
Fields of forever
Endless flowing streams
Pack up all that we know
Leave it all behind
I know we can get there
If we drive all night
The sun will be rising
As the stars disappear
Echoes of memories
The view is so clear
This is where we belong
This is where we belong
Are filling my mind
Dreams of forever
Just passing the time
Watching the sunrise
Being with you
I know we can get there
If this love is true
I want to go there
I want to sing
Fields of forever
Endless flowing streams
Pack up all that we know
Leave it all behind
I know we can get there
If we drive all night
The sun will be rising
As the stars disappear
Echoes of memories
The view is so clear
This is where we belong
This is where we belong
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Everyone else is doing it...
I'm extremely envious of the people writing travel blogs. Oh, how I long to pack my bags, fill up my gas tank, and head out on the open road (and blog about all my exciting, scary, random adventures).
First I would head to Colorado to visit Garden of the Gods among all the other beautiful places Colorado has to offer. Next I'd head north to Montana where my friend Amanda will soon by residing. After experiencing the glory and splendor of the mountainous region of the western United States, I'd suffer through fields of corn and wheat while making the trek to New York to visit Brianna. I couldn't make a trip to the East without seeing New England in the fall. It just wouldn't be right.
Canada would be next on my list. My recent fascination with researching places to visit has led me to discover Banff National Park - a sight which I soon hope to see.
First I would head to Colorado to visit Garden of the Gods among all the other beautiful places Colorado has to offer. Next I'd head north to Montana where my friend Amanda will soon by residing. After experiencing the glory and splendor of the mountainous region of the western United States, I'd suffer through fields of corn and wheat while making the trek to New York to visit Brianna. I couldn't make a trip to the East without seeing New England in the fall. It just wouldn't be right.
Canada would be next on my list. My recent fascination with researching places to visit has led me to discover Banff National Park - a sight which I soon hope to see.
Enough already
This rain is doing nothing for my already dampened mood. The fog has choked out the sun and inevitably, also my optimism. I could sit here and think of a million things I could be, I should be, doing, but instead I'll choose to spend my time on idle daydreams.
I'm wasting away along with the $40,000 my parents donated to the university that did nothing to further my career.
I work at a coffee shop and a children's clothing store. My life amounts to waking up ridiculously early to serve coffee and espresso to overly-pompous, ungrateful people and staying up late to straighten clothes that will soon be unfolded the next morning by careless customers. I find no joy in this.
I'm wasting away along with the $40,000 my parents donated to the university that did nothing to further my career.
I work at a coffee shop and a children's clothing store. My life amounts to waking up ridiculously early to serve coffee and espresso to overly-pompous, ungrateful people and staying up late to straighten clothes that will soon be unfolded the next morning by careless customers. I find no joy in this.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
I'm tired of sitting back and waiting for good things to come my way. I'm tired of lacking the confidence to pursue my dreams. I'm tired of watching everyone else get what I want and deserve.
It's not wrong to have ambition. It's not wrong to have goals. It's not wrong to strive for something better, something more enjoyable, something I've wanted for a long time, but been too afraid to pursue.
God gave me hopes and dreams and desires. He perfectly designed my heart, body and soul. He instilled in me unique hobbies and interests. He doesn't want me to settle for second best. He wants me to be happy, ecstatic and full of joy. He doesn't want my life to be a rut. He wants to be my life. He wants to be all that I long and desire for. He wants to be on the forefront of my mind from the moment I awake to the minute my eyes close as I drift off to a peaceful sleep. He wants to be my everything. He is everything.
I can't do God justice by just barely getting by. I can't just slide through life, hoping for the best. I need to be all that I can be in Christ. He is so much greater than anything this world has to offer.
It's not wrong to have ambition. It's not wrong to have goals. It's not wrong to strive for something better, something more enjoyable, something I've wanted for a long time, but been too afraid to pursue.
God gave me hopes and dreams and desires. He perfectly designed my heart, body and soul. He instilled in me unique hobbies and interests. He doesn't want me to settle for second best. He wants me to be happy, ecstatic and full of joy. He doesn't want my life to be a rut. He wants to be my life. He wants to be all that I long and desire for. He wants to be on the forefront of my mind from the moment I awake to the minute my eyes close as I drift off to a peaceful sleep. He wants to be my everything. He is everything.
I can't do God justice by just barely getting by. I can't just slide through life, hoping for the best. I need to be all that I can be in Christ. He is so much greater than anything this world has to offer.
Out here
I feel closer to you out here. Among the gentle breeze, the crisp springtime air, the view of the snow-covered hills. Winter’s putting up a fight this year. And so am I. I’m not ready to give into the truth that summer brings. With the melting of the snow and the blossoming of the trees, we said our goodbyes, both of us fighting back tears. You pulled out of my driveway and drove off into the vastness of the world outside of the one we used to know. Adventure awaits you, new life awaits you. But I’m still here.
From this hill I can see the entire valley. The people go about their day as if this is all there is. But I know better. My heart tells me there is more than the tedious hustle and bustle of the 9-5 workweek. My soul craves for something more than this monotonous excuse for life.
I want to live, really live. I want to bask in the warmth and beauty of the sun. I want to go horseback riding, canoeing, rock climbing, hiking. I want to fall asleep under the star-studded sky and dream about the adventures the next day will bring.
From this hill I can see the entire valley. The people go about their day as if this is all there is. But I know better. My heart tells me there is more than the tedious hustle and bustle of the 9-5 workweek. My soul craves for something more than this monotonous excuse for life.
I want to live, really live. I want to bask in the warmth and beauty of the sun. I want to go horseback riding, canoeing, rock climbing, hiking. I want to fall asleep under the star-studded sky and dream about the adventures the next day will bring.
I want to be a writer
I want to be a writer. I want to conjure the short stories that you overanalyze in your American literature class. I want to pen the daily (I’ll settle for weekly) humor column in the newspaper that makes you laugh so hard your eyes start to water. And when your eyes water for other reasons, like death or failure, sickness or a brokenheart, I want to create the greeting card that warms your heart and puts hope back in your soul.
For Brianna
I don't know if I've ever missed anyone the way I'm already missing you. The lump in my throat is a sad complement to the tears streaming down my freckled face and the seemingly gigantic hole in my heart. You friendship is one that can not be matched by others.
I'll sit here, conjuring up memories we've made, if it takes all afternoon. Iced non-fat lattes remind me of you. Walking through the park reminds me of you. Old Navy puffy vests remind me of you.
Promise me that after you've driven halfway across the country, after the endless stretch of miles, after the rest stops and roadside hotels, after the Rocky Mountains are merely an insignificant speck in the rearview mirror of your silver Subaru and all that lies ahead of you are fields of wheat and corn - promise me you'll remember me.
I'll sit here, conjuring up memories we've made, if it takes all afternoon. Iced non-fat lattes remind me of you. Walking through the park reminds me of you. Old Navy puffy vests remind me of you.
Promise me that after you've driven halfway across the country, after the endless stretch of miles, after the rest stops and roadside hotels, after the Rocky Mountains are merely an insignificant speck in the rearview mirror of your silver Subaru and all that lies ahead of you are fields of wheat and corn - promise me you'll remember me.
Monday, April 21, 2008
There's a jar of peanut butter sitting on the corner of my desk, but somehow that just doesn't comfort me tonight.
Your voice is the one I want to hear. Speak loudly, clearly into my life. Tell me that this is where you want me. Reassure me that this transitional season is okay. Because right now, this is where I am. Complacent. Dry. Empty. But I know You have something greater than all this in store.
Your voice is the one I want to hear. Speak loudly, clearly into my life. Tell me that this is where you want me. Reassure me that this transitional season is okay. Because right now, this is where I am. Complacent. Dry. Empty. But I know You have something greater than all this in store.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Back on my soapbox...
Maybe I'm taking this to the extreme, but aren't we called to be radical for Christ's sake (and maybe as well as our own?) If anything causes us to lust, shouldn't we flee from it?
2 Timothy 2:22 says to "flee also youthful lusts; but pursue righteousness, faith, love, peace with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart."
When I think of lust, I don't just think sexual. Lust can be anything that causes us to want, desire, need, crave, etc. Lust can be anything that takes away from our relationship with the Lord.
Sexual lust, however, is a HUGE deal. Not just for dudes. Guys and girls may think in different capacities, but how is me thinking about sex any different than you? Maybe dudes think more graphically, but sex is what it is.
I'm not a guy (no surprise there), so I don't understand exactly what goes on in guys minds. I do know that, for me, realizing that men really really struggle with stimulating visuals (such as scantily-clad seductive beautiful women) makes me feel awkward, in the sense that I'm never going to be a Victoria's Secret supermodel. This leads me to classify myself as “not very pretty, flawed, insecure, out-of-shape.”
It's an interesting dichotomy, because:
a) As strange as it may sound, I totally want to be the hot girl walking down the street that catches every mans attention. I want to wear the short mini skirts and have all the boys gawking over my sleek, smooth legs. Etc.
b) I'm so overly creeped out at the idea that a man could possibly look at me and somehow link his thoughts to sex. Don’t guys realize there’s more to a woman than her body? Don’t men realize that women want to be valued for who they are and not what they look like, naked or not?
Realizing that we (women) are being judged by our bodies, leaves us feeling insecure. Which makes us not much fun to be around because that’s when we start to focus solely on our flaws (freckles, acne, crooked noses, big booties, no booties, flabby stomachs, flat chests, large feet, hairy arms, facial hair, yellow teeth, crooked teeth, missing teeth, scars). When we focus on ourselves, we’re not able to focus on you (men). We’re not able to be as effective as we should because we’re so busy being insecure and worrying about how you probably spent the majority of the day checking out more perfect-looking women.
This thought-process almost forces women to be something they’re not. Should I spend more time getting ready in the morning so I can look good for you? Should I join the YMCA and stop eating so that I can someday achieve the picture-perfect physique? Should I spend gazillions of dollars on surgeries to enhance my breasts, straighten my nose, exfoliate my face, remove the fat from my stomach, purchase expensive makeup, wax my eyebrows, legs and arms?
Why can’t I be beautiful the way I am? Why can’t I be sexy with my oversized sweatshirt, jeans, and Old Navy flip flops? Why can’t you fall in love with the nice Christian girl, playing her guitar and praising the Lord? Why don’t you daydream about the quiet girl in the coffee shop who sips her mocha while studying the bible?
Why do I have to be flashy and fleshy, freaky and fake for you to notice me?
I can’t be something I’m not. I won’t be.
What I’m really trying to say is: let’s throw away the televisions, tear down the billboards,and silence the misleading masses that are telling us we need to be something we’re not.
This is a team effort. Men and women need to rebel against the norms. Fight your addictions. Flee youthful (and adult) lusts. Stop justifying sin. It is what it is. “But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matthew 5:28-29)
I’m not writing this to condemn you because the Lord knows I’ve done my share of lusting. Realize this: We all struggle with lust in some capacity. It's what we do with the temptations. Are we asking God to remove them? Are we confessing our struggles to a fellow believer so they can hold us accountable?
2 Timothy 2:22 says to "flee also youthful lusts; but pursue righteousness, faith, love, peace with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart."
When I think of lust, I don't just think sexual. Lust can be anything that causes us to want, desire, need, crave, etc. Lust can be anything that takes away from our relationship with the Lord.
Sexual lust, however, is a HUGE deal. Not just for dudes. Guys and girls may think in different capacities, but how is me thinking about sex any different than you? Maybe dudes think more graphically, but sex is what it is.
I'm not a guy (no surprise there), so I don't understand exactly what goes on in guys minds. I do know that, for me, realizing that men really really struggle with stimulating visuals (such as scantily-clad seductive beautiful women) makes me feel awkward, in the sense that I'm never going to be a Victoria's Secret supermodel. This leads me to classify myself as “not very pretty, flawed, insecure, out-of-shape.”
It's an interesting dichotomy, because:
a) As strange as it may sound, I totally want to be the hot girl walking down the street that catches every mans attention. I want to wear the short mini skirts and have all the boys gawking over my sleek, smooth legs. Etc.
b) I'm so overly creeped out at the idea that a man could possibly look at me and somehow link his thoughts to sex. Don’t guys realize there’s more to a woman than her body? Don’t men realize that women want to be valued for who they are and not what they look like, naked or not?
Realizing that we (women) are being judged by our bodies, leaves us feeling insecure. Which makes us not much fun to be around because that’s when we start to focus solely on our flaws (freckles, acne, crooked noses, big booties, no booties, flabby stomachs, flat chests, large feet, hairy arms, facial hair, yellow teeth, crooked teeth, missing teeth, scars). When we focus on ourselves, we’re not able to focus on you (men). We’re not able to be as effective as we should because we’re so busy being insecure and worrying about how you probably spent the majority of the day checking out more perfect-looking women.
This thought-process almost forces women to be something they’re not. Should I spend more time getting ready in the morning so I can look good for you? Should I join the YMCA and stop eating so that I can someday achieve the picture-perfect physique? Should I spend gazillions of dollars on surgeries to enhance my breasts, straighten my nose, exfoliate my face, remove the fat from my stomach, purchase expensive makeup, wax my eyebrows, legs and arms?
Why can’t I be beautiful the way I am? Why can’t I be sexy with my oversized sweatshirt, jeans, and Old Navy flip flops? Why can’t you fall in love with the nice Christian girl, playing her guitar and praising the Lord? Why don’t you daydream about the quiet girl in the coffee shop who sips her mocha while studying the bible?
Why do I have to be flashy and fleshy, freaky and fake for you to notice me?
I can’t be something I’m not. I won’t be.
What I’m really trying to say is: let’s throw away the televisions, tear down the billboards,and silence the misleading masses that are telling us we need to be something we’re not.
This is a team effort. Men and women need to rebel against the norms. Fight your addictions. Flee youthful (and adult) lusts. Stop justifying sin. It is what it is. “But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matthew 5:28-29)
I’m not writing this to condemn you because the Lord knows I’ve done my share of lusting. Realize this: We all struggle with lust in some capacity. It's what we do with the temptations. Are we asking God to remove them? Are we confessing our struggles to a fellow believer so they can hold us accountable?
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Even the distance reminds me of you
Even these shirts remind me of you. The colors. The sizes. The semi-permanent creases from having been folded too long, worn only once.
I'll pack my bags, in anticipation, and make a checklist of things that need to be done but probably never will.
This is where I'm going. Even this unfamiliarity reminds me of you.
Maybe I'll find you here. Boston in the fall. A sight I hope to see this year.
You can meet me at the station, then we'll walk, side-by-side toward the cacaphony of autumns colors, leaves crunching underfoot, hearts entangled in two lives that shall never be. One.
I'll pack my bags, in anticipation, and make a checklist of things that need to be done but probably never will.
This is where I'm going. Even this unfamiliarity reminds me of you.
Maybe I'll find you here. Boston in the fall. A sight I hope to see this year.
You can meet me at the station, then we'll walk, side-by-side toward the cacaphony of autumns colors, leaves crunching underfoot, hearts entangled in two lives that shall never be. One.
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